#the Two better versions of him actually do work it out…….. they get what he never did………..
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m-robinavitch · 6 hours ago
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Soft thoughts only today
Jack is the kind of man who makes you chicken soup from scratch when you are not feeling to well, including the noodles. Yes he is a doctor. Yes, he studied medicine. But nothing beats the hot soup and fresh brewed tea every few hours for comfort and getting fit again (and lots of forehead kisses). You dont need a heatpad. He has his hands, has he not?
Michael (I fucking hate how American speak that name. It's so harsh sounding to me) is the kind of person who fills up your tank without you asking. Who has your snacks of choice stocked at his home and a box with period products. Not exclusively period products tho. There are also toothbrushes, deodorant, travel sized shampoo and conditioners of all sorts. He likes to be prepared when friends are over or his son.
Two very large heavy warm hands that make your back feel so nice. And tea just tastes so much better when he makes it for you even if he does nothing more than add some honey and lemon. But it’s his grandmothers recipe. Same thing she made him when he was sick as a kid a million years ago. He’ll prop you up on the sofa so he can be close in case you need him- watching one of your comfort romcoms that he swears he hates but finds himself paused while kneading the dough to watch the scene unfold. He doses your meds for you and makes sure you’re drinking water while he also runs you a bath so by the time you get out the soup is ready and perfect.
He’ll let you lay on his chest while running his hands up and down your back as you sleep- watching that romcom that you turned in before you fell asleep from the combination of delicious warm soup, hot tea, and your husband’s solid chest to rest on. Forehead kisses or soft lips on your temple before he checks if your fever has gone down some.
But when Jack is sick he continues to work himself like a dog and-
“I’m fine honey- no no I just need a quick power nap before work, wake me in 15.” While draped halfway over the sofa, shirt partially on because he got dizzy while trying to get dressed. He’s already snoring- maybe because you gave him the nighttime version of his meds instead of the non drowsy one. Oh well.
“Okay Jack- take a quick nap.” You roll your eyes- having already called Robby to let him know that under no circumstances should anyone bother your husband in the next few days while he rests. It was inevitable that if you were sick then he’d follow suit. Luckily there’s still plenty of soup left over.
MY LOVE MICHAEL-
You have no idea how much I love that please because the idea of him being that acts of service lover I-
Anyway so-
He knows you haven’t got gas in a week- knows you hate doing it and will end up being late to work one morning because you forgot about it. He nearly has a stroke when he takes your car- the entire dashboard is lit up like a Christmas tree. Oil needs to be changed, tire is low on air and need to be rotated, windshield wipers need to be replaced, fluid needs to be added, engine needs to be checked- you’ll get around to it okay, you’re busy. Totally not projecting or anything. You scream when you turn in your car the next morning and the dashboard is empty save for your mileage. He didn’t even say anything about it- doesn’t have you pay for anything.
And when you first started dating he always had snacks you liked at his place. He was just observant, had seen what you ate while at work when you got a moment to actually eat. He had seen what you kept at your own place. So when you dug around his kitchen for something sweet one day- your favorite ice cream was in his freezer. When you had a craving for something salty and you raided his pantry- your favorite chips were stocked and waiting for you. He noticed the first time you have over that he didn’t have anything for you to use really. So next time he made sure he was stocked in case you or Jake or even Abbot came over. It was sweet. Especially since you were struggling that first night. No brush for your hair, no conditioner, no makeup remover, not even real face wash. Dammit you know he’s a man but come on Robby. At least he had a toothbrush for you.
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liesandspookyfairytales · 2 days ago
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Saviors in Shadows
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |
Pairing: Poly 141 x Black Widow!reader Word count: 2.8k A/N: I'm not entirely happy with this chapter. The transition to the smutty part sucks lol. And this is the first time I'm writing smut that actually makes sense and is in story form, instead of headcanons.
Contains smut!!! MDNI!!! 18+ content!!!
Comments, likes and reposts are greatly encouraged and appreciated!
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The next few months were… confusing. I noticed that mostly Soap and Gaz, but captain Price and even Ghost would make these kinds of flirty comments. Soap started with his ‘shopping for lingerie comments’ (which caused him to get hit multiple times by the others). I admit, I’d lost my cool with him after a few times. I confronted him, asking him what the hell he was doing, why was he flirting with me when he had three loving partners. He’d just grinned and told me that they knew he was flirting with me, that I just had to wait and see. 
I didn’t understand at first. Until Gaz sat next to me, close enough to touch. I stared at him, confused and wary, but he just winked at me, telling me that I looked lonely. After that
every time Gaz would sit next to me he’d make sure we’d touch. The captain was much more subtle. He’d join me in the rec room to do his paperwork, instead of doing it in his office, or when I mentioned that I liked the caramel ice cream that Soap always scarfed down, he’d gotten me a mini freezer for my room, where I could store my own tub, without worrying that Soap would steal it all.
Ghost was the most confusing. He only got close to me during training. I often ended up on my back, with him between my thighs. I could feel his breath through his mask, how his touch lingered and how his eyes locked onto mine.
It all came onto a head during our latest mission. We’d been sent somewhere in Marokko to track down a weapons trader working for a terrorist. I was absolutely done with the mission two days in. To say that heat and desert weren’t my thing, was putting it mildly. 
We’d spend the day scouting the area for the target. It had been going well, as well as spending the entire day in the scorching sun without sunblock could go well. Gaz and Soap had been messing around, their boredom getting the better of them after Soap’s insistent whining. The two had started with playing Simon says, but quit after the lieutenant's creative threats. They went on to play this or that, before Soap remembered he’d brought a pack of playing cards. So they were currently playing poker. Not the strip poker version, much to Soap’s disappointment. 
Price had eventually told me to join the two sergeants, insisting that he and Ghost could manage on their own for a bit.
Playing with them was amusing, to say the least. Gaz had a relatively good poker face and was good at bluffing. Soap was good too, but he was way too suspicious of me and Gaz, constantly grumbling about cheating after he lost a few too many rounds.
The last round was the most amusing. Gaz had folded, so it was between Soap and myself. I’d held my cards, smirking at Soap, who wanted to raise the stakes. “Are you sure?” I’d asked. Soap huffed, saying I couldn’t psych him out. I’d laughed, “I’m not trying to psych you out, just want to make sure you really want to do that.” He’d just glared at me and in the end, I won.
Soap immediately wanted to start another round, before Price called out that they saw the target. The three of us quickly sprung into action, switching back to the military mindset. It turned out that it was the target we were looking for. We’d quickly moved to kill the target, before all hell broke loose.
It had been chaotic. People shouting, guns firing, bombs exploding (no doubt thanks to Soap). I had been closest to the target, so I ended up taking him out. I was making my way through his followers, before putting a bullet between his eyes. I’d heard the guys finishing off the others, before silence fell. The only thing I could hear was my own panting and the ringing in my ears.
I hadn’t registered Price talking to me and I jumped when his hand landed on my shoulder. The sudden movement caused searing pain in my side and when I looked down, I saw a knife sticking out just under my vest. Gaz quickly pushed past the captain and guided me to sit down, before pulling out his medical supplies. I barely felt it as he cleaned and stitched the wound, only looking up when he held out a little bag of candy.
“For your blood sugar,” he explained. He opened the bag and picked out a few sweetheart candies. I’d looked at the message on the little heart, ‘I’m Yours’. After popping the candy in my mouth, Price told us we had to move to a secure location.
On the drive back to the safehouse Soap had stolen the bag of candy, sorting through them to look for the ‘right one’. After muttering ‘not that one’ and putting it back, he gave me three more candies. Each had a different message. ‘Be Mine’, “Kiss Me’ and ‘Let’s Get Busy’. He had smirked the entire way back.
I groaned as I lowered myself onto the ratty bed, careful of my injury and watch as the guys bring in their gear while Price is on comms with Laswell. The captain sighed as he walked in, “bad news, exfil can’t be here for another twelve hours.” I sighed and Soap started complaining while pouting. Gaz snickered, telling him he looked like a grumpy toddler. Soap cried out in outrage, before launching at Gaz. I huffed out a laugh, before settling in for a nap. The bickering in the background was oddly soothing and I quickly fell asleep.
-
I wake up to quiet murmuring. Opening one eye, I see Price pacing up and down the studio. Soap sits on the couch, his leg bouncing. Gaz sits next to him and Ghost looks like he stands guard, keeping an eye on our surroundings. “We just gotta tell ‘er,” says Soap. Gaz huffs, “you want to tell the woman who finally has some freedom for the first time of her life that you think you love her?” “Well, yeah and dinnae act like the three of ye dinnae feel the same.” “You’re planning to tell her that four people are in love with her, she’s gonna freak out,” says Ghost. 
“Maybe you should let her decide if she’s gonna freak out,” I say. The guys stiffen and turn to look at me. “Well, are ye going tae freak out?” asks Soap, looking unsure. I hum, thinking for a few seconds. “No.”
Soap’s eyes widen, “wait, really? You’re not freaked out by it?” I nod, “you told me to wait and see, right? Well, I waited and I saw.” I sit up, wincing at the pain in my side. Gaz immediately comes over to support me. I hum, feeling the warmth of his hand seep through my clothes. It takes the attention away from the intense eyes on me.
“So I can kiss you?” asks Soap, grinning while he tilts his head. “Soap” warns Price. “Don’t overwhelm her, we don’t want to rush her-” “Yes,” I interrupt the captain. Soap inhales sharply, before crossing the small space in a few strides and kneeling a leg on the bed. He lowers his head, his lips only an inch from mine. “Are you sure?” he asks. I just roll my eyes and grab him by the neck before slotting my lips over his. I hear him groan as he relaxes in my grasp, a groan echoed by Gaz, who has front row seats to our kiss.
Soap moves to sit on the bed without releasing me. He wraps his hands around my waist before gently tugging me into his lap. I follow his directions, feeling the heat of Gaz’s hand leave my back. I settle my knees on either side of his thighs. Soap slowly gets bolder, moving his lips over my own, nipping with his teeth. Eventually he lets go to suck in a deep breath.
“We can’t do this,” says Price. I turn to look at him, “why not?” He shakes his head, “this is just the adrenaline talking, you’re going to regret this when we get back to base.” I shrug, “maybe I will regret it, but that’s a problem for the future, not for now.” Price still looks hesitant. “Please,” I add. He groans before slotting himself against my back and fisting his hand in Soap’s hair. “Well sergeant? She said please.” Then he kisses me.
Soap moves to kiss my neck while Price takes his time kissing me. It’s vastly different from how Soap kissed me. Where Soap was like a raging fire, Price was water, smooth, it felt like I could drown in him.
Out of the corner of my eye I see Ghost pulling Gaz with him to sit against the headboard. The sergeant's lips attached to the lieutenant's neck. He still wears his mask, but I can see his blown pupils. In the meantime, Soap’s hands slide down my waist, brushing over the bandage, before settling on the waistband of my pants. I grind my hips down on his, wanting to see his reaction. He groans and I feel the vibrations running down my neck, causing a moan to slip past my lips, only to be swallowed by Price.
I pull back from the man, before turning to look at Soap, who looks positively delicious with his eyes blown, neck stiff from how Price’s grip on his hair. “Are you going to take my clothes off, sergeant?” I ask. He groans, before quickly turning us both around, laying me on my back while being careful of my injury. He makes quick work of taking off my clothes, leaving me naked. After throwing my clothes on the ground, he sits back on his legs, hovering over me and taking in every inch of skin.
I see Price moving behind Soap, pressing himself against his back and moving his hand to fist Soap’s cock through his pants. Soap groans, throwing his head back onto Price’s shoulder. The captain hums, before opening the sergeant’s pants, tugging them down and pulling out his cock. Gaz moves beside me, leaning over me to roll my nipples between his fingers and giving me a quick kiss. Then he moves down my body. I open my legs, desperate for some friction, but he ignores me, closing his mouth over Soap’s cock instead, only stopping when his lips hit Price’s hand. I watch as he moves his head, groaning at the taste of precum.
I whimper, trying to get their attention, to get anything. Turning my head, I look at Ghost, who’s still seated against the headboard. While he’s still in full uniform, I can see the fiery red hickies lining his neck. I’m about to reach out for him, when I feel a hand on my clit, applying steady pressure while moving in circles. My head falls back and I trace the hand up to Price. He winks at me, before pulling Gaz off of Soap’s cock and pushing him towards my pussy. “Give some attention to the lady, yeah?” Soap whines at the loss of Gaz’s mouth, but chokes when Price starts moving his hand.
I’m enamoured by the sight before me, but get distracted when I feel Gaz press hot kisses against my inner thighs. I move my hips, trying to get him where I want, but he just grins at me, placing little kitten licks on my thighs. He manoeuvres his head, ducking under Price’s hand that’s still rubbing my clit, to lick my core.
I moan out for him, new to the feeling. I’m no stranger to pleasure, but I’ve never received it from someone other than myself. Gaz starts to eat me out like he’s a man starved and my eyes roll to the back of my head. With how pent up I am from the lack of orgasms, it doesn’t take long for me to come, pleasure wracking my body. Soap comes quickly after that too, his cum splattering on my stomach. Gaz quickly detaches from my pussy to lick his boyfriends cum off of my body.
I lay on the bed, panting, when Ghost speaks up, “come here,” he orders me, holding out a gloved hand for me to take. I look at him, before obeying. I take his hand and let him tug me to him. He settles me between his spread legs, making me lay down on his chest, my head on his shoulder. 
He tugs his mask up and I turn to look at him. He quickly grabs my jaw and turns my face away from him. I whine in protest and he nips at my neck in punishment, before he mouths the tender spot behind my ear. His mouth feels rugged, it’s like he has rough scars on his cheeks. He successfully distracts me from the others, letting me bask in the post orgasm glow.
But it doesn’t take long before he gestures toward Soap to come forward. The Scot eagerly settles between my legs looking down at me with puppy-like eyes. Ghost’s gloved hand comes up to tug Soap down, slotting their mouths together, his other hand still on my jaw, not letting me see. “Take my glove off,” he orders Soap, holding up his hand. Soap grins, before opening his mouth. He takes one of Ghost’s gloved fingers in his mouth, gently biting down and tugging on the glove, before moving onto the next finger. I watch him with wide eyes, my heart beating wildly, my breath coming out in pants.
As soon as Soap tugs the glove off with his mouth, Ghost’s hand is on my clit. He softly teases the bundle of nerves, before dipping his finger in my folds. I groan at the intrusion, pushing my chest up, only for Soap to latch his mouth onto my nipple. Ghost’s finger is thick, more than I’m used to. He pumps in and out of my pussy, before adding another. My head rolls to the side and I see Price in a similar position to Ghost, holding Gaz against his chest like the lieutenant does to me. The captain has his fist wrapped around the sergeant’s cock, moving at the same pace as Ghost’s fingers inside me.
My eyes move to Gaz, amazed by how pretty he looks. Soap, clearly not happy with the lack of attention, bites down on my nipple, before smoothing it over with his tongue. I hiss, fisting my hand in his hair, janking him back to glare at him. 
I want to lash out at him, reprimand him, when Ghost adds a third finger in my pussy. He lets go of my jaw, telling me to keep it in place, before wrapping his hand around Soap’s neck. “God, you can’t even behave when there’s a pretty woman beneath you can you?” he sneers. “Like a goddamn animal.” I stiffen, shocked by his words, but Soap only moans, hardening even further against my thigh.
“Is that what you want?” asks Ghost, pulling his fingers out of me, “ to fuck her like the dog you are?” Soap nods eagerly, yeses and pleases falling from his lips. Ghost hums, “go on then.” Soap moves quicker than lightning and presses his cock to my pussy. I cry out at the intrusion, and Soap stills, pressing apologetic kisses on my face. I take some time to catch my breath and get used to the feeling of a cock inside of me.
Once I give an experimental roll of my hips, Soap begins to move. He pulls out almost completely, before pushing back in, before pulling out again. The feeling of his cock dragging inside my pussy feels amazing. I hear a high pitched whine and realize it comes from Soap. He looks utterly blissed out. Groaning and whimpering, before burying his head in my neck. I wrap my arms around his neck and drag my nails along his back, leaving red marks. Soap’s hips stutter against my own, before he pushes in deep. I cry out at the new feeling. Before Soap can move again, Ghost grabs his hips. “Right there, sergeant,” he orders.
Soap obeys and continues hitting that one delicious spot. I quickly feel an orgasm rising again. “I-I’m close,” I whine. Ghost hums behind me, “that right, sweet girl?” I nod frantically and he lowers his hand back to my clit, applying steady pressure. “Come then, come for us,” he rasps in my ear.
I cry out, pleasure wrecking through my body as I clench down on Soap, causing him to cum with a hoarse shout. The Scot sags down on me, still working around the wound, which has started to ache. Next to me, I hear Gaz moan loudly as well as he cums too.
I faintly hear someone get up, before the tap runs. The person returns with a wet rag, cleaning me up, before tending to Soap and Gaz. As Soap pulls out, I let out a deep sigh and nestle deeper in Ghost’s arms. “You better not regret this later,” he warns as I drift off to sleep.
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twowaywardorphansjournal · 24 hours ago
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Xerox
Summary: Sam's well intentioned idea leads to a minor disaster.
Content: Sam x Reader, a bit of swearing, Sam being a dork, Reader being a little sassy, really don't think there's too much to warn about
Notes: Got the idea from this post and decided it was a bit Sam-coded. Just a funny little drabble that I hope you enjoy.
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You know it wasn’t intended.
You know Sam meant well.
But that didn’t mean that it wasn’t an absolute disaster.
Leaving Dean to work through everything that came with the Mark of Cain, you and Sam had found yourselves in Alabama on a hunt. Although you were pretty sure it was your basic haunting, you never settled on an answer until it was practically smacking you in the face. You’d had too many close calls to get cocky and certain in this line of work, which was something Sam appreciated about you. After interviewing the 19-year-old employee at the xerox store, you stumbled upon something else you hadn’t expected: a conversation about hunting in the modern age.
“Do you know how revolutionary it would be to have a hunter journal in the cloud?” Sam asked, his voice loud and passionate in the confines of the car. He had practically swooned when the store clerk had started his spiel about software that converted everything to a digital file.
“In the words of your brother, you are geeking out about this, Sam.”
“No, I’m not.” Sam answered automatically. He must have felt the look you gave him, because he glanced at you from the driver’s seat. “Look, all I’m saying is there’s a new generation of hunters out there who aren’t gonna bother sitting around reading books. If we can share our knowledge, get it to them in a version they will read, think about how many more people we could save.”
Despite your teasing, you agreed that he had a point. You’d run across a handful of “Gen-Z” hunters who were more interested in their social media page than the back story of what they were hunting. If someone could impress upon them the importance of research that they would actually read, you could help strengthen the chances of them surviving their next hunt.
It turned out you were right about the haunting. The ghost of a troubled young man was haunting a record player that had been recently donated to the suite next door to the copy shop. Both of your sharp hunting skills was met with a rare gesture of gratitude; the teen employee convinced his manager to let you have access to the digital conversion software. You tried to offer some kind of payment, but Sam poked you hard in the side to shut you up. As you were getting ready to leave town, Sam considered letting you drive for about five seconds, the possibility of getting to mess around on his computer glittering in his eyes.
When you got home, Sam set to work digging through the collection of books for some basic hunting notes. Vampires, werewolves, and some of the other basic creatures that amateur hunters tended to gravitate towards. Dean even assisted with finding some of their dad’s first notes about ghosts. Everyone agreed that it was better to start off small and see if this idea even worked before delving into the entire library in the bunker.
Two nights in, while you were helping Sam put away some of the books, you happened to see a crumpled set of papers tucked in between the pages. Curious, you cracked open the spine to take a better look. After three seconds of reading, you blushed. Then you panicked.
“Sam?” You asked, your voice wavering.
“Hmm?” He didn’t look up from his computer.
“Please tell me that you didn’t scan these loose pages.”
“I, uh…” He blinked, processing what you were saying. “Loose pages? What?”
“In this book,” you repeated slowly, “the pages here. Did you scan them?”
“I dunno.” Sam replied, giving you a blank stare.
“Sam, these are letters I wrote to you.” You held them out to him. “Private, sensual letters.”
Sam met your eyes for a moment, then quickly grabbed the papers out of your hand and started to read. He cleared his throat as he got further down the page.  
“Fuck.” He whispered to himself.
Setting the paper down forcefully, he hunched over his computer. You stepped up behind him, chastising yourself for not listening to his full explanation of how everything worked. Then you noticed all the names on the page.  
“Wait, did you…” You trailed off, your stomach twisting in on itself at the horror of this getting worse.
“An hour ago.” Sam said curtly.
“Oh my god. Sam!” Gripping his arm, you leaned closer to the computer. “There are 10 people who have already viewed this! Did you scan the pages?”
“I don’t know!” Sam roared. He was scrolling furiously through the electronic pages, and you didn’t know how he was even differentiating them. He stilled suddenly. “Shit.”
“No,” You groaned, flopping your head down on his shoulder.
“It’s only ten people.” Sam clicked a few times and then let out a heavy breath. “It’s only ten people!”
You sat up, visually confirming that the pages had been deleted. “Just pray that one of them wasn’t…” You paused when you heard footsteps.
“Don’t you lose that girl, Samuel.” Dean called as he entered the room. “She’s a spicy one!”
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riteliso · 4 hours ago
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S01E09
I've decided I'm gonna do a separate thread for each season btw because scrolling to the bottom of this is killing me and I'm sure there's a better way but I DONT KNOW HOW TO DO IT
And if you've only seen she-ra a couple times you might be surprised that this isn't the second season! Last episode ended with an impressively gutteral cliffhanger but that wasn't to end our season, it was because we're in the TRENCHES of that GOOD SHIT now
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Heartbreaking: watch this disaster lesbian learn about life under capitalism
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Another Kyle death (the burn/cut gets infected leading to a botched amputation and complications with allergies to the anaesthetics)
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look they're all pedantic teens and this isn't the time to argue but why WOULDN'T she make perfuma the perfume bottle c'mon
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Worth pointing out they do the better version of this trope where the plan leads into the action so you understand what's going on in real time vs the worse version where they completely lay out the plan and then you see 75% of said plan go exactly as described just straight up wasting time
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I complain about her sometimes but she's a trooper when the cards are down
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The ipad baby has evolved into a leash adult
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Does she know
As in like no, actually, does she already know or does it take her until later to figure it out
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This is why she's a good character even if I would hate her if I met her
She bends, but doesn't break. She's consistent. She believes the garbage she spouts and acts accordingly.
I think that there's too many superficial characters out there, because superficial characters are just-- uninteresting. Who gives a fuck about an astrology girl if she's only in it for the aesthetics and the water cooler talk? Yes, superficial people EXIST in real life, and there's PLENTY OF THEM, but with writing you can choose what you want to focus on freely. There's no reason for superficial characters to exist in a story, really, in my opinion because what is there to say about them?
That superficial people suck and they're boring?
I don't need to read or watch something to come to that conclusion.
Taking character archetypes like popular girl, hippie, valley girl, etc. that are usually associated with superficiality and giving them a grounded nature and reasons why they ARE the way they are is infinitely more interesting and enjoyable. It also gives you way more to WORK WITH and ENJOY.
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They're good character foils for each-other. Mostly in this direction, but still.
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She's the kind of autistic girl who dies at 28 because she got rabies trying to pet a raccoon because she just felt like it was friendly
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"You're lying!"
"Nah no I'm not. Idiot. Fuck you."
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Here's your thing back he likes being saved
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It's like it's impossible not to be mean to him
You've got just about the kindest person within this universe talking to Kyle and he's still like "I'd really rather be in any other circumstance if I'm honest."
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I mean, find the lie
She really did kinda ditch everyone the second she figured out she could be destined for something else.
At least she gave a HALF-HEARTED attempt not to ditch Catra, but still.
ALSO SHOULDA MENTIONED IT AT THE END OF PRINCESS PROM BUT WHERE ADORA IS HOLDING ONTO CATRA AND SAYING SHE WON'T LET GO BEFORE CATRA WRESTLES OUT OF HER GRIP AND FALLS IS THE BEGINNING OF A RUNNING THEME BETWEEN THE TWO WHERE ADORA PROVIDES SPORADIC AND OCCASIONAL OLIVE BRANCHES BUT CATRA IS TOO HURT AND VITRIOLIC TO ACCEPT THEM
We get another in this season I'll talk about it more there. I think that moment where they stare at each-other right before they fall might be where they realize they love each-other in a way where they wanna kiss. I really dunno. There's so much in princess prom that I'm finding more shit to talk about the next damn day but let's continue this episode.
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I feel like ANY OTHER SHOW I've ever seen when there's a character like this I hear people marching down the streets chanting "JUSTICE FOR KYLE" but in this show nobody cares and I can't decide if that's funny or sad
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In an alternate world we have the dual perspective where the parallels are between Adora deserting and leaving Catra and Kyle leaving and deserting Rogelio
ALRIGHT SO
Here's how we're doing things, right? We're gonna go one episode at a time, and I'm gonna give my thoughts whenever they come up. This is a train of thought type beat, alright? Unlike my usual grandstanding authorial and analytical self, this re-watch is purely for the rant factor. If you don't know me, and you just happened upon this thread because you like reading she-ra rewatches, hello. I'm a writer from Canada who found she-ra in 2025 and is currently on her sixth watch through. From that, hopefully you can discern that I like this show, even if I'm likely gonna criticize parts of it. We good to go? Good. We start with S01 E01.
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RIGHT, THE SWORD PART 1! A zoom in, with an angelic singing being drowned out by digital bloopy fright zone vibes, and then Adora being a fuckin dweeb as her leitmotif plays in a decidedly crystiline synth-y tone.
Now, what do we learn from this? This, aside from one gripe I'll have more to speak on later, is an excellent introduction. With the music alone we're essentially taken from the beauty of the planet, the overwhelming dread of the fright zone, and then into a hopeful tune that isn't FREE from these sort of digital themes in the music, but is very defined and separate FROM them.
This isn't gonna be one of those things where I praise literally every single fuckin thing so keep your panties on, I'm not gonna full-on overanalyzing avatar this shit, but the most important parts of a story are the beginning and the ending.
Now, when I say that, I am speaking pragmatically. Every part of every story is important-- but when it comes to what people remember, what they love, what they never shut up about-- it's the start and the end. You need to nail the take-off and the landing, people will forget the turbulence from the rest of the trip.
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Now, what does THIS bitch's intro tell us about her? Well, a lot, honestly. Most of what we know about Adora at this point is she plays by the rules, but she is a notably goofy person. She's goofy, but she's unwilling to goof-OFF too much.
And while we get a taste of the rivalry they have instantly, with "That's low, even for you." "You know nothing's too low for me~"
We instantly see that that is not the CORE of their relationship.
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I'd like to praise the voice direction in this show for the first of many times here. The voice actors do amazing work in this, and the direction can be felt throughout.
"Come on, you look stupid hanging there" can obviously be a seen as a strange first line to show the warmth these two share, but the inflection from Catra's voice actor, AJ Mikalcha, makes it read as downright sweet.
Also don't get used to me using names of the crew besides ND Stevenson because I'm so awful with names I was still calling Catra Katara half the time on my second re-watch and I was like 90% of the way to realizing I kinned her at that point
Also don't make fun of me for kinning Catra there's no RESPONSE to people making fun of you for kinning Catra THAT DOESN'T MAKE YOU SEEM MORE LIKE FUCKING CATRA OKAY
Anyway, the following scene makes it clear that this is not a one-way dynamic. The two banter, and it's clear Adora knows how to get under Catra's skin and annoy her as well. This is notable in a few places MUCH further on, but it is a difference worth highlighting NOW.
Once Adora leaves, Catra's primary goal is still to get under her skin. She's angry about it, she's mean about it, but she's still just doing what she's always done. The relationship between the two doesn't actually change as much as the context does. I'd say the relationship itself doesn't change much until the final season, at a scene I'm sure I'll have a lot to say about.
On the flip-side, Adora's goal when it comes to Catra is simply to fight her off. But that's not all there is. At points, it's clear that Adora holds some sort of REVERENCE for Catra, and while Catra is very capable of very mean things, don't get me wrong, Adora sees Catra as more of a threat than she realistically is.
At a few moments I'll point out she also relishes in getting under Catra's skin, but admittedly those are few and far between.
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People have gone over this introduction billions of times, so I won't BORE you to death with it, but Shadow weaver's introduction does hint at a lot of what we'll learn later. I think it's very notable that while Shadow weaver brings a dark gloom that encompasses both our leads, her vile tendrils only dare to touch Catra. We learn the specifics of the dynamic these three have later, but it is a very unique and terrible situation to be the least favourite of an abusive guardian. Especially if you are repeatedly reminded of that fact.
I'm not gonna go over all the body language shit I've seen other text posts about it there's plenty of them a lot of focus in this show goes into tiny details where characters are constantly reacting to the world around them, and very rarely do we get lame stretches where anyone's face is just frozen and unflinching while they listen to someone else.
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with all due respect to the setting at this point in time the bright moon rebellion is so pathetically anemic it's the two teens, some movie night lesbians, an immortal princess queen, and a bunch of fucking trees.
And you'd think the one carrying the team would be THE IMMORTAL PRINCESS QUEEN, BUT NO, ITS THE FUCKING TREES DOING ALL THE GOD DAMNED WORK
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This introduction is fine. I don't particularly like it, nor have any strong feelings about it. It establishes the relationship between glimmer and her mother, but besides that it doesn't honestly do much. And don't come at me with "Uh, all it needs to do is establish that relationship?" Yeah, no shit, but we just had a better introduction to our other lead characters. And yes, those are the MAIN leads, the sort of heart of the show, but that doesn't mean that the other characters are unimportant. Glimmer's development later on is truly interesting, and Bow becomes a massively inspiring character. Fun jokey times are fine or whatever to show that they're immature and don't know the first thing about war, in contrast to our full-blown child soldiers raised from birth in the fright zone, but we really don't learn anything particularly INTERESTING about our best friend squad compadres in their intro, nor do we really see any of it until episode 2, to be frank.
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This is something we don't actually see much of-- Catra has this ideal of being a conqueror, but it's very clear that she doesn't want that. Her threats are vapid and aimless-- She can enjoy some chaos, sure, but a shit-stirrer isn't gonna use that feces to build brick shithouses that they never intend to fall.
I think this should have been elaborated on more, personally. Catra is comically terrible with authority, and her plan, as stated later, is to wait it out until her and Adora are the ones calling the shots. But we don't really see what she thinks conquering even looks like, and it's not clear whether that's that she hasn't even imagined it and just likes evil words, or if she genuinely wants to rule with Adora as her Queen.
I gravitate towards the first, but that's partially because I wake up and post shit like "I want to destroy the world and rule its dust" and then forget I posted it when someone likes it 5 minutes later. If she do, in fact, as studies point toward, "be just like me fr," then I fully understand. If not, then I'd like to understand.
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aw :(
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Fuckin dweeb pulling the "my mom doesn't want me hanging out with you anymore" card
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HA! Ah, what a bitch. Anyway, she's lashing out, but it's also quite tragic. A lot of people seem to think Adora IS, in some way, a people pleaser, but in reality she just has such an ingrained and violent sense of justice that she wants to right every wrong she has ever and will ever come across. She believes her validity is tied to what she can provide to the world, and she's got a natural sense of charisma, so it's natural for someone who refuses to blend in and naturally tends to put people off like Catra to have this view of her.
In reality, Adora is just-- a good person. And people LIKE good people. She's not a good person with an asterisk-- a good person with terms and conditions-- someone who falls into the definition of a good person while feeling and being treated like something else. Catra is the "a tomato is a fruit" of good people. Adora is just, like, a 1 dollar costco hotdog of a woman. An inarguable good treading water on this earth, no matter how hard it tries to pull her under.
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Imagine falling for a brat with mad hops, like a fucking 50 foot vertical, you say you're too tired to play their favourite board game and they go hang out on your neighbour's roof, couldn't be me. Get fucked I guess
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Yeah this is sad. Empathy is very much a learned skill, and people who don't learn empathy don't GET happy FOR people. Catra's not a complete person yet. She's not ready to be. That doesn't happen for a really long time, during an exceptionally long manic spiral. We'll get there, calm down, don't think about how far away that is and how much I've already yammered on.
Anyway, if you find yourself getting jealous or annoyed instead of getting happy for people, consider empathy isn't what you thought it was, and that you might still need to work on yourself.
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fucking porno framing. Immensely sexual image, really. These bitches violently gay I suppose, I think I'm picking up on that during this sixth re-watch.
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Buddy you got no idea how many problems those two already have you literally lose your little tiara at some point I think it ends up in the middle of a tree in space or something it's kinda unclear
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Adora elbows her square in the nose during this so to everyone accusing Catra of physical abuse I just want it to be clear that Adora started it :/
Actually I'd like to retract that joke immediately because I know how people get about these two
My feelings are that they are literally child soldiers who were likely raised sparring each-other.
I was raised sparring other children and I ended up fine! Not for war, for Karate. And I didn't end up fine. And neither did they. Anyway, my point isn't even specifically that because this is sci-fi fantasy it's ridiculous to hold real life standards to it, it's more-so that because it's sci-fi fantasy there's extenuating circumstances that are going to affect how these two characters treat each-other. I'll go into hotter takes later, I'm sure, and get people to send me plenty of death-threats, but I'm gonna go into the nuances of exactly what forms Catra's abuse takes, and how it differs given by the separate circumstances we're shown the two in throughout the show.
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my girl when I'm tryna live my best life playing as blue toad in mario 3d world
also holy shit we're only like halfway through this I am an AGONIZING yapper jesus fuck
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Okay, what to say about lighthope-- well, their first words are "balance must be restored," far before they say Adora's name, so it somewhat lays out their secret priorities for us there. Besides that, I dunno, they got circuits on them? I don't have particularly strong feelings about lighthope, nor their introduction. I think they serve the setting and are written well, I just subjectively am not a sucker for the way they be. Their friendship with Mara is cute tho
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I was gonna point out this is cute and how often I do this exact brat tactic but instead we data moshin, nothin wrong with a little data moshin, I'm down
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This is the only reason she even wears a ponytail I'd stake my fuckin life on it
Once she leaves the fright zone that thing's fucking vestigial like a tailbone or having "any pronouns" in your bio when it's pretty clear you're very much a "she/they" type of bitch by now
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glimmer why don't your windows have glass
or alternatively
how the fuck do you open and close that window
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you can absolutely fucking hear her from this distance what on earth are you trying to pull
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you a pillow princess tho how many of those arrows are just hitatchi magic wands attatched to a stick with duct-tape after the series ends do you think
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The fuck you mean BOTTOM drawer we lookin at left and right here
or is this similar to my pillow princess comment and she's just addressing him and giving him an order
"Bottom; drawer."
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It's established later on that he's a tech wiz but at this point in time they don't really give us much to lead us to the fact that he made that fucking thing
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she's a freak
yes it's very sweet that she sleeps this way but I don't think it's some bdsm powerplay thing or anything like that, which would honestly be more tolerable, I think she's just like that
like how the way I'd sit in high school was to get two chairs and face them toward each-other then sit cross-legged across both
even if there weren't enough chairs to go around
people would sit on the FLOOR because I wanted to sit criss-cross-applesauce across two chairs, they wouldn't even ask for one of my chairs
also since I was sitting, again, cross-legged, it would have made more sense for ME to sit on the floor
I mean I think I got asked ONCE for one of the chairs and I just said "fine" but besides that people just let me sit on my fuckin throne
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She really is kinda dumb, though. Like I ain't complaining, it's a character trait, but like obviously even if just you get in trouble Catra's gonna get blamed, you've seen it like at least once a month for your whole entire life
Mind you, can't really have Catra for the next part, because Catra's reaction to Bow and Glimmer wouldn't be "just let me have the sword" it'd be murder
oh wow we hit the image limit looks like we're doing TWO SEPARATE POSTS FOR THE VERY FIRST EPISODE YEE-HAW!!!!! THIS IS GOING TO TAKE ME FUCKING FOREVER
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warlenys · 15 days ago
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lawrence and robert same person but lawrence and Aaron. same Situation. gay in prison. suffering. caught as the lover of a married man. the love of both of their lives is robert sugden. but aaron gets away with that because unlike lawrence he isn’t robert. so robert doesn’t hate him. so robert doesn’t kill him
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secondbeatsongs · 5 months ago
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Food Crime: Frosty the Slawman
so a while ago, I saw this photo going around on tumblr:
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at first, I thought this was photoshopped. I mean, "welcome new man in your life"? that feels like a translation error, or someone being silly on purpose.
but guess what! turns out, Frosty Slaw Man is real!
and soon...he will be mine. let's get cooking
(full disclosure: I crafted this snowman and took notes about it over a year ago. and then, like with many things in my life, I forgot about him, and let him drift into the ADHD void of Things I'm Not Currently Staring At, where object permanence is tentative and largely unrealized.
but here we are! and here he is: the slaw man. it's time to share him with you, so that you can suffer as I have suffered, and/or rejoice in my gelatin creation!)
so this recipe photo originally came from Mid-Century Menu (archive link), a blog that seems like one after my own heart, and which once tried to make the Slaw Man (with not much success; but we'll get back to that)! but it's not just that blog that has copies of this ad. I also found it on reddit, and in a few different places on ebay!
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lookit that guy! he's a real guy!
both the reddit post and some of the ebay listings say that this is from 1963 (though I haven't been able to figure out which magazines it was printed in, to confirm this for myself). but in looking this up, I discovered something else fun! there's another version of this ad!
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Best Foods is what Hellmann's stuff is called on the west coast, and the "this is no place for second best" thing makes a lot more sense when you consider that the ad was probably made for Best Foods first, and then just reused and rebranded for the east coast
the more you know!
anyway the benefit of finding this alternate ad is that the scan on this image is a lot clearer, and so the recipe is more readable! and in looking at it, I've realized something important:
when Mid-Century Menu tried this recipe, they got an ingredient amount wrong.
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when they made their beloved Slaw Man, they had the water amount written down as 1/4 cup, but looking at this scan up close, it is actually 3/4 cup of water! something that might make a significant difference, considering we're working with gelatin!
(there's also another change I want to make compared to what they did, when I do this recipe. but we'll get into that in a sec.)
for now: we begin
so. there's no way I'm making a Slaw Man this large. I am just one person, and considering the ingredients of this, I don't think I'm going to be able to consume that much Slaw.
two entire heads of cabbage? three pounds of cottage cheese, a thing that I don't even like to eat? no. that's a bad idea.
so I'm starting small here and making this 1/3 the size of the original:
2 packets of unflavored gelatin 1/4 cup cold water 1 cup mayo 1 tsp salt 1lb cottage cheese 4 cups shredded cabbage
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surely this will result in a reasonable amount of Man
...okay, I started chopping the cabbage thinking it would be easier, but I've given up and pulled out a grater. this is much better! and somehow more violent (affectionate)
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the recipe says to soften the gelatin in cold water, and then stir over hot water until it's dissolved. I'm going to assume "stir over hot water" means a double boiler, so let's do that
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hmmm, the gelatin is very foamy? it’s melted, but the bottom of the pot feels really....sticky
okay. after a couple minutes more and no change, I’m calling this good enough.
so one thing that others who have attempted this recipe have not taken into consideration is the cottage cheese. you see, the others used normal cottage cheese, but the recipe says to use "cottage cheese, cream style"
I’ll be real, I’m not 100% what that means, since we don’t have that here. but I can take an educated guess! so let’s blend the cottage cheese!
(with an immersion blender. I am not willing to wash an actual blender because of this)
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mmm, yes. very smooth
...actually. why isn't all cottage cheese like this? the thing I hate about cottage cheese is the texture, so why isn't it all smooth and creamy like this?? I could eat this!!
a new discovery is made every day in this house.
okay, time to start mixing things together.
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ah, frosty. I opened a whole new thing of mayo for you! do you feel special?
(I'd make a "pre-dinner snack?" joke, but sometimes I think I'm the only one that remembers Regular Ordinary Swedish Meal Time)
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okay, the mayo, cottage cheese, and salt have been added to the gelatin. but as this cools, the texture is getting...hmm. less than appealing.
lastly: the cabbage
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oh. oh this is not very nice
next it says to pack the "salad" into a one pound container, and two six-cup bowls, but since I made this recipe so much smaller, I'm going to uhhhh. uh. find some bowls that seem like they'd be correct...snowman? proportions?
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ah. this bowl is too big.
hey, these'll work!
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now I just have to let them chill for a while, and continue another day.
(edit from current!me: ahhh oh my god I forgot this was pretty soon after we adopted Jackie! look at these cat pics that I took while I was food crime-ing!
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look at them having their little interactions! Knuckles was trying so hard to be friends with her! I love them)
hello! two days later and we are ready to assemble the slawman. and my sibling has started referring to him as "frosty: attorney at slaw", so that's fun.
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I've done a thing where, as these set, I flipped them around in the bowl so that hopefully they'd be more round. we'll see if they actually stay like this.
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I have also made some decorations for him out of peppers, olives, and carrots!
let's build our boy
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oh he's so heavy. and wobbly
no no no he almost fell over!!
okay. he's fine. but more skewers were needed.
and...okay. he is complete.
behold!
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gaze upon my beautiful man!
(he is not structurally sound! he wobbles unsteadily as I rotate him! there are already cracks forming in the gelatin around where his arms are! don't worry about it!)
 now it's time to stab him
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and...to devour him
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this tastes like...a bland coleslaw? and not even that. it's just sort of a salty, cottage cheese-y cabbage. the ingredients don't combine to become something greater, they simply...sit there. like this.
and the texture is...mmm. it's not a jello kind of texture, but it is a bit squashy in a way that's mildly strange.
it's very creamy once it softens in your mouth.
...I don't like this!
and look! taking just that one chunk from him was enough to destabilize him entirely :(
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RIP frosty. now I just have to see if I can eat all of you before you go bad.
(note from current!me: I could not.
 I ate maybe half of him over the course of many days, often adding other stuff to him to try to add some flavor: bacon, frozen peas, cheese, etc. but even with that, I just couldn't stomach him.
after a while I stuck what was left of him in the freezer, hoping that maybe I'd find the will to consume the rest of him some other day.
do you know what a frozen-and-then-thawed mixture of cabbage, cottage cheese, mayo, and gelatin looks and tastes like?
bad. the answer is: bad.
I threw him out pretty quickly after thawing him.
do not try this recipe at home)
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sketchtastrophee · 5 months ago
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old art again!! this time a rough animation of sawyer and yarnaby 😎 (looks better if u click to view 😭)
im working on a short ppt animation rn. im thinking i should post it to my youtube channel, though im not sure if people here would see it. i think i can link videos on here?? idk
okay I'm gonna talk abt more chapter 4 stuff.. this time about prototype's previous identity.. ch4 spoilers and also a theory below..
hiding the solo yarnaby under here LOL
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people theorized 1006 was elliot, which was recently disproven in the chapter 4 tape where poppy refers to elliot as her dad and wishes he were there. in the same tape she addresses prototype as a completely different person. also recall that elliot died in the 90s, meanwhile prototype met theo in 1989. so yeah, they aren't the same person
I've also seen people say rich is prototype, which cannot be true either. in a ch4 tape he speaks to one of the employees under his supervision. the kid mentions his coworkers joking about him going missing. before the bbi, it would not make sense for this to be a common rumor at the company, which means this tape had to happen after harley was hired in 1990; at a time when the company would have a reason to silence people
prototype existed in 1989 at the minimum, but considering he says "it's always been about you and me" to poppy, he's likely the prototype of HER. she's elliots daughter, she died in the 60s, meaning prototype was probably created around that time as well.
this means that rich can't be the prototype because he was human long after prototype was made
if you want my take on who prototype truly is, i'd say his identity doesn't necessarily matter. i don't mean to say his origins aren't important, just that his name and specific role in the past probably doesn't mean anything in the long run. i've never believed he was elliot or rich, and maybe in the future i'll be proven wrong but for now i'll tell you the theory i've had since june of last year
elliot's daughter dies in the 60s. he divorced his wife in 1930, so his daughter is probably in her 30s when she dies. she gets sick or injured, maybe she's actively dying or already dead by the time elliot begins his research. he looks for ways to bring her back, but it doesn't work on the rats (as he mentioned a note in the 2nd chapter)
so what does he do? he tries it on something bigger as he said he would: a human. of course he's not going to try this experimental method on his own daughter, even if she's already dead, so he finds someone else to use it on. we know that elliot wasn't evil or anything, so it's unlikely he killed anybody to use for the experiment. considering the orphanage isn't open yet (it opened in the 70s, not the 60s), prototype probably wasn't an orphan child either. if i run with my simple version of the theory, elliot may have dug up a body in a graveyard and used that. maybe a fresh one, who knows. he tried it, it worked, then he revived his daughter with the same method.
this is likely what harley wanted to know about in the chapter 3 tape (the "i learn something new about you every day" one), and also what prototype is asking harley to figure out in the ch4 tape they're both in. in that case, sawyer never actually figured out how to revive people with the poppy substance. sure, he can transfer people into the toys, but he can't bring anybody back to life
more reason to believe prototype and poppy are of the same "batch" is because it seems they are the only two who don't need food. it's outright stated about him in the ch1 trailer, and insinuated with her saying the "toys will starve otherwise" when she's talking about how nasty them eating humans is. she refers to them, not herself. her and prototype are probably the only 2 who were ever brought back from the dead, which circles back around to his monologue and gives meaning to the "it's always been about you and me, poppy. what we are". when i heard him say that i felt like my theory was lowk confirmed 😭😭
no guarantee this is right, but it's been my guess for a long time
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misslavenderlady · 2 days ago
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First off, thank you so much for the tag!!!
Second off, I can definitely see the heart you put into this! The people in this fandom are bursting with creativity and insightful ideas on a movie that came out 35+ years ago and I think that's so beautiful. Our ideas and insights and theories keep it going, which inspires even more people. I'm really proud of you for doing this.
I'll add some thoughts too, but please know I'm not trying to steal your thunder! You've just really inspired me 💜
Let me just say I do like Star. She was in no way written perfectly, but I chalk that up to limitations with movie time and the shit-ton of changes they made and stuff the cut out. That's definitely not her fault, nor is it that of her actress. In fact, Jami Gertz did fantastic with what few bits she was given to work with.
It's kind of interesting because she's both a very positive character for the era she comes from, but she's also limited by it too. Unlike a lot of the other female characters of the 80s, she's not a victim of any gender-related mistreatment. She's not harassed, assaulted or r*ped. It isn't even brought up. It's really not good that such a simple thing is considered progressive for a movie of that time, but it's still a nice palette cleanser after seeing so many gross characters look up skirts or try to grope some poor girls.
Yes, you do see that shrinking violet personality come in when David reels her in, but she isn't treated like an object for their desires. Honestly, I actually think her romance with Michael is very sweet. It may be brief and very sudden, but the passion Jami and Jason had going on irl definitely shows on camera. They're just very shy and cute and honestly, I find their sex scene to be one of the better ones I've seen in movies. I think I like their relationship because it plays on one of the few characteristics we see for her. She just wants to be normal again. She wants to be a girl in love with a sweet boy. The feelings she has for Michael are very real, and it's to a point where she trusts him to save her and Laddie.
Another thing I see in her is a sense of bravery that I don't think even she realizes she has. She's willing to warn Michael about the risk of the blood even at the consequences of David being mad at her, she sneaks away from the boys so she can talk to Michael and ask for help (that's no small task for anyone getting out of an abusive relationship), she insists that Laddie be saved first, even if Michael only has the strength to get one of them out, she gets in the faces of two vampire hunters and screams at them to protect Laddie from harm (seriously, she could have been killed), and she picks up a weapon to fight Max when she learns who he is.
It really is a shame that we don't see the Star we see in the book and certain cuts from the script. There's just so much more to her. She's a kind, playful spirit who keeps hope going strong. She encourages Laddie to hold on to his human memories, she adores Paul as her companion and a kindred spirit who understands her loneliness, and in a version of the script, she helps Michael get the killing blow in.
I know deep down she was only meant to be the love interest, but I see a spark in her that could have been more. And honestly? This movie would have been a bit more empty without her. When it comes to Michael, she's the shoulder angel to David's shoulder devil. The two of them in a quiet battle to get Michael to turn to their own side.
They could never make me hate you, queen 😩💜
Building a Better Star (aka, the Star Essay)
I like Star. I’m getting that shit out of the way right here at the beginning, just in case. I like Star, I like what she is, I think she deserves better writing. 
Also - these are my takes. These takes may not be your takes. We can have different takes.
Okay? Okay. Let’s go. 
For the purposes of this analysis and suggestion, I’m only going to be going off of movie canon Star, rather than book canon Star, because while they’re basically the same, there are a few background elements in the book that expand  on Star’s internal thoughts and relationships with the boys that you could only get from exposition in the book, and that’s not as available a source as the movie, so. 
Since I’m either posting this on tumblr for the four people who will read it, or filming myself talking about this like a normal person with normal hobbies, I won’t explain who canonically she is because that’s unnecessary for this audience of me and a discord server, but rather who she is as a character as presented.
The thing about The Lost Boys is that it exists as a double edged sword of characterization for all its characters. They’re all incredibly simple, and in that white space that’s left behind where deeper characterization would be put in other movies, here there’s just a void, leaving the audience to fill in the gaps however they see fit with whatever they can glean from the surrounding world. 
The vampires are the prime example of this - of all the characters, they get the least amount of dialogue and have the most void to fill in who they are as characters. Star is the runner up, having more character, but the same amount of void in her backstory. 
So who is Star? 
Star is The Girl of the group, a trope wherein you have a group of characters who make up the core of your main cast and usually they’re all male, with one or occasionally two exceptions being girls - if it’s two, one will be the ‘nerdy’ or otherwise ‘not strictly desirable by main male cast’ role, and the other will be The Girl, who is almost always the love interest of the main male, who, even though she’s more of a main character then the secondary girl, typically does less than them. As presented, Star fits this trope easily, as well as filling out the subtropes that it consists of. 
She’s soft-spoken, pretty, demure, stays out of most of the fights in the story, offers the protagonist advice but never tells him directly how to face the conflict of the story, offers support but never directly physically supports the protagonist. She’s an inciting incident all to herself, but never actually drives the plot forward except to be a shining prize on the mountaintop of the narrative that the protagonist must climb in order to claim. 
After being in the Lost Boys fandom for about two and a half-ish years now, there are some take-aways specific to Star that the fandom tends to play on the most. 
And I want to add in here, I do not have a problem with these traits being assigned to her. Star, like the rest of the cast, is a very malleable character. The void around her is just as vast as the other vampires, and this is fandom - we play with blorbos from our media like dolls. This entire thing is purely based on what I personally would like to see Star become, and since I’m a freak, I don’t just write fanfic, I also do this. Apparently. So take everything I’m saying with a giant grain of salt.
The traits that I most see attributed to Star are:
-She’s a shrinking violet, either unwilling or unable to interact directly with the conflict of the story
-She’s being held against her will to the point that leaving in any capacity is not only not an option, but would lead to physical harm/possibly death if she tried (ie, she’s an abused captive) 
-She cannot be held responsible for any bad decisions she’s made in the past or makes in the current story, or any bad turns the plot takes 
The first assertion is held up pretty well by the canon of the movie, and most of the fandom also agrees that it would have been nice if the movie actually did make Star a little less soft. There have been several outcries for Star to ‘vamp out’ like the Boys did, to at the very least give her a scary vampire face! Her tiny confrontation with Max at the end of the movie would have been a perfect space for that, but unfortunately, the movie has 80s-itis and being the female love interest and a victim in the plot, Star isn’t allowed to be aggressive in such a blatant manner. 
Star also hangs back whenever the Boys have presence on the screen. She’s never in the forefront, sharing the space, she’s in the background, watching them, only observing. The one time she directly contradicts them, ‘Leave him alone’ she’s told straight up to ‘chill out, girl’, and she doesn’t continue the conflict. When she does decide to try and be more forward with Michael, directly affecting things, she waits until there is no other persons of consequence around in order to do so. 
The second assertion of her being held against her will is a little trickier to pin down as a trait, but evidence of this is implied with how she contributes to the narrative - mainly, in asking Michael directly to save Laddie and her from the Boys, or at the very least, the situation she’s in. Though, it should be noted, that Star never makes a direct statement of what that situation is. She hedges that it’s being being driven to kill to sate the vampiric nature, but when taking scenes like David simply saying her name to get her to come to him, being told indirectly to back off when the Boys are hazing Michael, and backing away in a fearful manner when Michael is drinking the blood wine into consideration, there’s the darker notion that she’s being abused in other ways. 
Because the movie is meant to be a lighter flick, full of scary-yet-alluring vampire punk boys and over the top monster-hunting gore, billing it as a ‘horror-comedy’ excludes any deeper exploration or more explicit on-screen showing of verbal, emotional, or physical harm that Star may be experiencing. Doing so would take away from the fantastical and darkly whimsical nature of the story, grounding it too much, and making the Boys, though they be villains, into villains we wouldn’t love to hate.
Thus, the darker implications of what Star might be facing behind the scenes, when Michael isn’t around and before he came along, is left to the audience’s interpretation, as well as any ability Star has to struggle against them. The fandom frequently interprets as none, thanks to the plot of the movie being what it is. 
The third major assertion that the fandom tends to adopt is that Star is largely if not completely irresponsible for the missteps of other characters and for her own predicament. 
This given trait is the most difficult to back up with evidence directly from the canon as it relies heavily on filling in the blank spaces of Star and the other character’s backstories. Star is not responsible for Michael spotting her in the crowd at the concert or deciding to follow after her. Star technically didn’t tell Michael to accept David’s goading to race. Star told Michael she both didn’t know how to help him, and couldn’t explain it. Star is not responsible for Michael’s induction into the Boy’s gang because, well, she told him what he was drinking was blood. Star never directly acts to drive the plot forward until the beginning of the third act when she does admit to Michael that she needs his help, thus, cannot be held responsible even in part to Michael’s involvement. 
Lack or acceptance of Star’s responsibility for her own inability to leave the Boys is even harder to pin down, as we have no movie canon for what her life was like before meeting the Boys. The implication from the world around them is that Star is a runaway kid like many of the people seen in the opening sweep of Santa Carla, likely from a crappy home and was taken in by the Boys but soon got in over her head, but this is never directly confirmed. 
The idea that Star made a bad choice, and was not just manipulated and coerced after the ‘honeymoon’ period with the Boys is somewhat controversial as it paints Star in a less favorable light. She isn’t an innocent victim, but rather someone who made a bad call and refuses to acknowledge her own agency in that decision, instead placing any and all blame on the Boys. 
‘But what if she’s tried that already?’ Unfortunately, that lies entirely in the realm of off-screen possibilities that are not support by any canon. Star in the movie is never shown or implied to have tried escaping before, and in the book she merely has internal monologues about wanting to leave, not that she’s ever attempted it. 
Giving Star any one of these traits on their own isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Star is very much helpless in this situation - she’s in a den of immortal man-eating monsters while only being barely half of one herself, and refusing to take the option that would grant her more physical power to assert control in the situation, because the act required would be a shattering of her moral compass. Regardless of her involvement in how she got here, she deserves to be able to leave and make better choices. 
But giving Star all of these traits at once with nothing else to her flattens her completely. It does her, in my opinion, an incredible amount of injustice to absolve her of any kind of responsibility in her own problems and then rob her of any bravery to take a risk and change it herself.
And that’s not a good character. 
In order to build a better Star, we need to first accept a truth that might be a slightly hard pill to swallow: 
A good Star is not necessarily a protagonist. 
At least, not in the same way that Michael or Sam can be. Michael and Sam are protagonists in that they’re the heroes of the story. They face the main conflict head on and drive the plot forward with their actions, and are who we’re rooting for to win. We see them and their actions as ‘good’. They are absolved by the framing of blame in what is done to them. (Michael in getting in over his head with the Boys by ignoring the reservations and loose warnings of others, and Sam of murder with the fact that the Boys are man-eating monsters bent on getting back at them when one of their own is killed.)
If you make Star a protagonist in the same way, with her needing to be framed as ‘good’ in the story, but only keeping the character traits previously listed, then she’s a boring character. She becomes only nebulously ‘good’ just by virtue of not technically having done anything that could be considered ‘bad.’ Being counted as a heroine only by default. 
And that sucks. That puts her simultaneously on a pedestal where she can do no wrong, but is an empty shell that’s there to smile or cry and do nothing else. 
Often, when talking about female protagonists, antagonists, anti-heros and characters with grey morality or amorality, the added layer of them being women forces ten times the scrutiny on not just how they’re built as a character, but on their creators and why they’re choosing to build the character in the way they are. Any mistakes plot-pushing decisions made by the character aren’t as likely to be accepted as just the character acting in the story, but get traced back to the author. The audience constantly asks the question, ‘if it was a male character, would there be consequences for this act, or are you treating this character special because they’re a woman?’ 
In this case, it’s ‘Michael also fucks up, and yet is treated as a victim, deserving of sympathy and being saved by his brother rather than having to fight all on his own. Their situations are the same. Why not Star? The only difference between them is gender.’ 
This essay is not about whether or not Star is deserving of being saved, nor is it saying that she deserves being trapped in the situation that she’s in. But much like how Star reminds Michael that she did indeed tell him that it was blood in the bottle and he scoffed at her, Star deserves not to be a lifeless doll being acted upon, and a good female character deserves to not be a pretty, perfect Barbie doll that does no wrong and always looks pretty. 
So with the knowledge that a better Star cannot be purely a protagonist, how do we lower her from the boring pedestal? 
My suggestion: by inverting her three main traits
The first: If she’s billed as meek and demure and soft, then make her more aggressive and vulgar 
The second: If she seems to be kept at silent gunpoint, then give her more freedom to act
The third: Make her at least partly responsible for her own situation, regardless of whether or not she thinks she is 
The first revised trait is the most important in my opinion to building a better Star, as it will help direct and reinforce the second two. 
A large part of Star’s lack of presence in the movie is quite literally, a lack of physical presence. Star seems to hate even being near the vampires, and depending on what kind of story you wish to show her in, it could make sense. But chances are, if she’s given the shrinking violet trait, she’s been given the other two as well, and that makes a bad Star. She must be allowed to speak, and more than that - she must be allowed to show emotion. 
Let Star be angry. Let her be hurt in a way that’s not beautiful and languorous, a wilting agony of suffering in silence. And I’ll say it: Let Star say the Fuck word. As silly and simple as it may seem, such a small detail can transform a character. Star deserves to be as rough-edged and imperfect in her words and attitude as any of the rest of the Boys, possibly more if she’s in a situation that she hates! If she had the bravery to run away from home, then she should be afforded the bravery to be more than a pretty, silent, pure woman who doesn’t know what a cigarette is. 
The second revised trait is going to be the most fluid in interpretation because it relies the most on the author or artist or fan’s personal interpretation of what the relationship between Star and the Boys is really like. 
In the movie, Star seems to move with the Boys. She’s usually near them enough that they can keep an eye on her, as we see with David watching Star talking to Michael before the beach race. The only times we see Star distance herself physically is right after the bonfire, where she comes to the Emerson cabin to convince Michael to save her, or when she and Michael have sex. The first time, she seems desperate, like she may not have much time, and the second, she’s been left there on her own while the Boys go out and cavort, likely with the implication that she should stay where they can find her when they get back. 
Again, this is the trait that can be toyed with the most, but a good way to combat the feeling that she’s being held against her will is to give the notion that there are parts of being around the vampires that she likes. There are tiny hints of this in the movie, and the book expands on this. In the movie, there’s a moment during the race where Star seems to be enjoying herself while riding with David - at the very least, she’s enjoying the speed and thrill, if not the person she’s with. In the book, Star and Paul have the best relationship of any of the boys, with Paul trying to cheer her up and promising a ‘happily ever after’. To keep it from feeling like a full captive situation, give Star a reason to feel a bit conflicted over the pack. She’s there in the first place, after all. 
The third revised trait is going to be the most controversial, as it’s a hard thing to admit when people in real life do it. 
Admitting that sometimes, the problems we find ourselves dealing with, are our own fault. We make a bad call, we make a poorly informed decision or decide in the heat of the moment. Sometimes, we are lied to, but the lie is flimsy and we chose to swallow it because it’s what we wanted to hear at the time. I like to ask authors writing villains this - what’s worse and more compelling; a villain who lies, or a villain who tells the protagonist a truth they don’t want to hear? 
And, as backwards as it sounds, making Star partially responsible for her situation is giving her more agency in her story. It gives her a reasonable character flaw that she has to confront and defeat. 
Here is where I’m going to throw in an interesting observation about a specific scene that I think helps lend itself to this particular revised trait: the scene where she asks Michael for help directly. In canon, the scene goes about like this - Star comes to the cabin, Michael tells her that he knows about the vampires, and when he expresses that he thinks it’s basically done for him, Star tells him that it’s not, he’s not fully gone, and that she needs his help to save all three of them. Now, there’s something really, really interesting to me about this scene: Star is NOT a reliable narrator during it. At all. 
To say that she’s lying outright about everything would be untrue, but when you examine it, you realize that she’s being untruthful all the same. When Michael gets upset, accusing her of not caring about him because in his eyes she let this happen, she says that she DOES care about him, using physical touch to reinforce this. When she’s soundly rejected, by Michel slapping her hand away and demanding to know why she REALLY came, she very reluctantly tells him that she was hoping he’d help them. It’s her last answer, the last thing she wanted to say. Obviously hoping that the emotions would be enough to persuade him, rather than just saying that she needed help outright, which would be easier to say no to. 
Secondly, the WHY. Star states that Michael was ‘supposed to be her first, because it’s what David wanted’. When watching the scene, the delivery, the body language, and given the full context of the plot and how we’ve seen Star behave? We can only come to the conclusion that Star. Doesn’t. Know. That. 
Max’s ultimate goal is to get Lucy, and to get Lucy, he needs Michael and Sam to be on board, or at least BE vampires. Killing one of her children would hardly serve that goal. Given the ending fight, Max doesn’t give a dead rat’s ass about Star. And Star? She doesn’t even know Max exists. David telling Star to kill Michael to turn her into a vampire is not only pointless, but going expressly against Max’s wishes. We don’t know how much of Max’s plan David and the Boys know about, or given their personalities and implied relationship with him, even care about, but defying him in this instance doesn’t seem like the smartest thing to do. 
Not to mention - Star does like Michael. She hugs him at the end, she does give him a warning about the blood, albeit a weak one. She does attempt to fight Max in the end, even if she fails. As for her thoughts on David, those are more complicated. Whether the relationship is real, coerced, that she’s simply a pawn being used to tug Michael around or whether she and David did like each other at one time, is unknown, but it is clear that Star knows that David is interested in Michael, and doesn’t like it. So it would then be logical to assume, given this, that Star would assume, based on what she knows and has been able to observe, that she’d pain David in a worse light. Insinuating that it’s HIM who’s pulling the string, assuming what he wants and what his intentions are, even if she DOESN’T. KNOW. 
All this to conclude: Star is an unreliable narrator taking actions based on her own flawed assumptions. Which means she’s going to make mistakes, and miscalculate her position. She’s going to cast herself in a certain light, and like anyone, maybe not want to admit when that light is suddenly not a reflection of her best. 
So, how do I conclude this. 
Star is an interesting character, and I do enjoy her. If you managed to sit through this to get to here, and if there’s anything to take away from this, it’s that I enjoy Star and I want her to be a better…her. She deserves to cuss and spit, she deserves to be angry and sad at her predicament, she deserves to be loved as a whole person and not some untouchable angel. Let her fight. Let her bite. Let her bleed for her freedom and personhood.
Most importantly, if you allow the Boys room to be more than they are presented as on screen, then you can afford to give that to Star. 
Thank you for reading, if you did. 
@misslavenderlady (I almost forgot!)
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shy9-29 · 2 months ago
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I actually need a two faced jake where at school hes a sore loser versus when he’s alone with yn—complete menace. Biggest cocky flirt out there. At first, yn didn’t know much about jake until he bent her over and fucked the living shit outta her. I’m just down bad for Jake ok.
Two Faced, One Heart: Who is Sim Jake?
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심재윤 x reader
୨ৎ Two versions of Jake Sim—one the shy, clumsy boy who spills his coffee at school, the other the filthy-mouthed menace who had you shaking in his lap just hours before class—and somehow, you’re hopelessly addicted to both. ✉️ wc. 13.1k ⋆˙⟡ ⚠️ warnings : oral (both received), begging, teasing, cream pie, minor slut shamming, bullying, pet names, making out, swearing, harsh language, haur pulling, unprotected sex
📝: thats so fucking hot omg? I need jake so bad rn it’s not even funny
mndi · req open
———
The words come out before you can stop them.
“Do you think I could get Jake to fall for me?”
Your friends stare at you like you just confessed to having a crush on the cafeteria salad bar.
“Jake Sim?” Min gapes. “The guy who thanked the printer for working?” Jisoo raises a brow. “His Instagram only has twelve followers. Twelve. One of them is his dog’s account.” You try not to laugh. “Okay, but he’s kind of… sweet?” Min scoffs. “He wears socks with sandals.” You shrug. “Maybe I like that.” You don’t tell them that two nights ago, Jake had you bent over your tiny dorm desk, fingers tangled in your hair, voice low and smug in your ear while you struggled to stay quiet. Because no one would believe you.
Not when the Jake they know fumbles over his words in group projects and blushes when people look at him too long.
But you’ve seen the other side. The one who locks his door with a click and flips like a switch. You see him again the next day in class, right on time as always. Same oversized hoodie, same messy hair. He sits two rows behind you and doesn’t say a word.
You don’t look at him. Not really. But you feel him watching you. The weight of his stare pressed between your shoulder blades. Like he knows exactly what you’re thinking about. Then, when you stand to leave, he brushes past you. Just a little too close. His fingers graze the small of your back—light, subtle, hidden. But it sends heat shooting down your spine. You catch up to him by the vending machines, just outside the library. He’s pretending to debate between orange juice and sparkling water.
You stop beside him. “Healthy choices.” Jake doesn’t look at you. “You wore that lip gloss again.” Your lips curve. “Maybe I like the flavor.” He reaches forward, selects a drink without thinking, and pays. His voice drops, just loud enough for you to hear. “I like it better off my tongue.” Your breath hitches. A pair of students walk past, one of them waving vaguely in Jake’s direction. He nods back with that usual shy smile, all harmless and mild-mannered.
The second they’re gone, his hand brushes against yours, fingers curling briefly around yours before letting go. You’re not sure your heart knows how to keep a steady rhythm around him anymore.
You didn’t know when it started—maybe it was the way Jake always sat in the back of class, quiet and unassuming. Or the fact that, every time you glanced at him, he never seemed to notice. He’d scribble in his notebook, the only sound in the room his pencil moving across the paper. You thought he was weird at first. Too quiet. Too in the background. The kind of person everyone else ignored. But there was something about him you couldn’t shake. The way his glasses would slide down his nose when he concentrated, or how he always wore the same hoodie, despite the weather.
The first time you spoke to him was after class. Your notes were mixed up, and you needed help with something—so you took a deep breath, made your way to him, and asked.
He looked up, startled. His cheeks went pink, and he mumbled something about being “kind of bad at explaining things,” but he agreed to help. That’s how it started. He was awkward. Shy. And he was perfect. You thought about him more than you should have, even as your friends teased you about how he was “just a soft loser” or “too quiet to ever be interesting.” But something about the way he treated you—how he never rushed you, never pushed, always listened—had you intrigued.
Then, the texts started coming. Small things at first—like a picture of a puppy he saw that reminded him of you. Or a random meme about books you both liked. They came at odd times, too. Late at night. In the middle of the day. And you found yourself looking forward to them, even though you knew he wasn’t exactly the “popular” guy at school.
One night, after a study session that stretched long into the evening, you both found yourselves alone in the library. It was just the two of you, the quiet hum of fluorescent lights above, the scent of paper and coffee between you. He looked at you like he wanted to say something, but he never did. Instead, he helped you pack up your things, careful not to touch you too much, but his fingers brushed yours when he handed you your coat. You thought you imagined it, the little spark that shot through your hand, but the way his eyes flicked to yours said otherwise.
“Uh, good night,” he mumbled, voice hushed. You smiled, feeling your heartbeat in your throat. “Good night, Jake.” You didn’t know it then, but that would be the night it all started to shift.
The next few weeks were a blur of fleeting glances, stolen moments. You’d catch him looking at you in class, only for him to quickly look away. Sometimes, he’d find reasons to walk the same path as you, his steps light, as if testing the water between you. And each time, the air between you would grow heavier, electric, like something unsaid was hanging in the space between your words. It wasn’t until one rainy afternoon that things finally tipped over the edge. You were on your way to the library when you spotted him standing under the awning of a building, looking at his phone. His hoodie was pulled up over his head, and he seemed to be oblivious to the fact that the rain was starting to soak through the sleeves.
“Jake!” you called out, jogging over to him. “You’re gonna get soaked.” He looked up in surprise. “Oh, uh… I was just trying to figure out when the rain’s supposed to stop.” He smiled sheepishly. “I should’ve checked the forecast before heading out.” You shook your head, already pulling your umbrella out. “Come on. You’re coming with me.”
He blinked. “What?”
“You’re not standing out here getting drenched. You’re walking me to the library.”
He hesitated, then smiled, a soft, shy grin. “Okay.”
You shared the umbrella, walking side by side. The world outside was blurred by the rain, everything muted except for the sound of your shoes on the pavement and the occasional brush of his elbow against yours. It felt casual, but something about it—something about him—made your heart race in a way you couldn’t explain.
When you reached the library, you both stood under the awning for a second, the warmth of the building just inside. You were both still close, the air between you thick with unspoken things.
And that was when it happened.
Without saying a word, Jake leaned in just enough to let his breath ghost against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “If I walked you to class every day, would you still act like I’m invisible?” he whispered.
Your heart skipped, and you didn’t know how to respond. You didn’t know what to say, or what he was really offering. But you knew, in that moment, everything between you had shifted.
And you weren’t sure you were ready for it.
But you wanted to be.
You’d never seen Jake without his glasses.
The guy everyone knew—shy, reserved, a little awkward—was always framed by those round lenses. It was part of his quiet charm, the way they softened his features, how he hid behind them like a shield. No one really saw the guy underneath, the guy who barely made waves, who faded into the background of every class.
Until today.
You hadn’t expected this when you got the text. “Roommate’s out. You wanna come over?”
It wasn’t anything crazy. It could be a quiet hangout, maybe some late-night studying. But there was a strange feeling building in your stomach, something telling you that tonight might be different.
When you knocked on Jake’s door, you barely had time to brace yourself before it swung open.
And there he was.
Jake, standing there, no glasses. He was wearing contacts, and the difference hit you immediately. His eyes, normally hidden behind lenses, were now wide open, sharp, clear. They looked darker somehow, and for the first time, you saw something in them that wasn’t there before. Confidence. A kind of intensity that threw you off guard.
“Hey,” he greeted, his voice smooth, low—nothing like the awkward, stuttering Jake you were used to.
“Hi,” you replied, unsure of what to say, suddenly aware of how close he was standing.
Jake stepped aside, letting you into the room. You took a quick look around—same dorm, but the vibe was different. The room was tidier than you expected, clean, almost meticulous. No clutter, no random piles of clothes or books. It felt… like a space where Jake had control, where things were on his terms.
“You can sit wherever,” Jake said, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. His posture was relaxed, but there was an edge to it now, something about the way he stood that was different from the usual quiet guy you saw on campus.
You sat on the edge of his bed, but you didn’t know where to look. His eyes were still on you, and the way he watched you made the air between you feel thick, charged.
He took his time, like he wasn’t in any rush. “You didn’t expect this, did you?” Jake’s voice was quieter now, almost like he was daring you to admit it.
You shifted slightly, trying to act casual, but it was hard. “No. I didn’t think you’d be like this.”
He smiled, but it wasn’t the kind of shy, soft smile you were used to. It was different. “Like what?”
You hesitated, but then shrugged. “I don’t know. More… sure of yourself. Less… nervous.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, and there was a flash of something dark in his eyes. “You think I’m nervous?”
You nodded slowly, testing him. “Yeah. I mean, you’ve always been… kind of quiet.”
Jake took a step closer, his expression unreadable now, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m not shy. Just don’t feel the need to put on a show for anyone. And I don’t think you’re stupid enough to believe I’m some clueless guy.”
You stayed silent, suddenly aware of how close he was now, how his presence filled up the space between you.
He was different tonight. No hesitation. No awkward stutter. Just… Jake. But the version of him that you never saw—sharp, self-assured, and unbothered by anything or anyone around him.
“Want to see how different I am?” he asked, his voice lowering, the question hanging in the air.
You barely had time to process before his fingers brushed your arm, the simple touch making your heart race. And just like that, you realized you weren’t ready for the change that was happening between you—but you were already in too deep to turn back.
You weren’t sure what you expected when you agreed to come over, but it wasn’t this.
Jake leaned against the wall in front of you, and for the first time, you felt a shift in the way he held himself, like there was something between you that wasn’t there before. His gaze didn’t flicker away from yours, and his posture was different. He was comfortable—too comfortable, and it made the room feel smaller, hotter.
You opened your mouth to say something, but Jake beat you to it, his voice low and steady. “You don’t look at me the same way you used to.”
Your chest tightened. “What do you mean?”
His smirk deepened. “You’re looking at me like you’re seeing me for the first time. Like I’m not just the quiet guy in the back of class.”
You tried to ignore the way his words made your pulse pick up speed. He was right, and it unsettled you more than you wanted to admit. The Jake you knew was always reserved, always hiding behind his quiet act. But the Jake in front of you now? He was different. More sure of himself. More… commanding.
Before you could find the right words, Jake pushed off the wall and closed the distance between you. He didn’t touch you at first, but you could feel the heat coming off him. You took a shallow breath, the air between you thick with tension.
“Are you nervous?” he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
You shook your head, but you could feel the unease building in your stomach, creeping up your chest. It wasn’t nerves—it was something else. Something new. Something dangerous.
He seemed to sense it, that tiny shift in your energy, and it made him lean in closer. “You can admit it,” he whispered. “I won’t bite.”
Your lips parted slightly at the sound of his voice, thick and low. There was nothing innocent about him now. You could see it clearly. This wasn’t the guy who stumbled over his words or blushed at the slightest attention. This was a version of Jake you hadn’t been prepared for.
And now that you were seeing him—really seeing him—you weren’t sure you wanted to turn away.
Jake’s hand came up to touch your chin, his thumb brushing over your skin with purpose. He tilted your head slightly, studying you like you were a puzzle he was dying to solve. His touch was slow, deliberate, and it made every nerve in your body stand on edge.
“Do you like this?” he asked softly, his thumb tracing along your jawline. “Do you like seeing me like this?”
You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you found yourself staring at him, watching how his eyes flickered with something darker, something that made your heart race in a way you couldn’t quite explain.
“I don’t know,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Jake’s smirk only grew, and before you could react, he leaned in and kissed you.
It wasn’t a soft kiss, the kind you were used to. It wasn’t gentle or cautious. No, this was different. This was hungry. It was messy. He kissed you like he’d been waiting for this moment, like he couldn’t wait any longer. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his lips parting against yours as if he was trying to steal every breath from your lungs.
You let him. You let him pull you in, let him show you what he was capable of when there was no one around to see it.
When he pulled away, just enough to let you catch your breath, his eyes never left yours. There was something predatory in his gaze now, something that made your pulse race.
“You’ve been looking at me for a while,” Jake murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “You never thought I could be like this, did you?”
You swallowed hard, your mind scrambling for something to say, but all that came out was a shaky breath.
Jake smiled, that same smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll show you just how different I can be.”
And that was when you realized—there was no going back now.
Jake’s lips hovered just inches from yours, his breath mixing with yours, the tension in the air making every nerve in your body feel alive. His eyes were locked onto yours, and you could see the way he was waiting for you—waiting for you to decide how far you wanted to go, how far you were willing to let things shift.
You had never seen him like this. The quiet guy you knew had been replaced by someone far more confident, far more intense. His hand was still resting at the back of your neck, and the way his thumb traced small circles against your skin sent a shiver down your spine.
He didn’t kiss you again right away. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying you, watching for any sign of hesitation, any sign that you weren’t ready. His thumb grazed your jaw again, this time a little firmer, almost as if he was marking his territory, making sure you knew he was in control now.
And then, without warning, he pressed his lips against yours again—but this time, the kiss was slower. It was deeper, more deliberate, as if he was savoring it. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the heat of his body against yours.
You tried to breathe, but it was hard. It felt like the world was closing in around you, leaving only the two of you in that small, charged space. You couldn’t focus on anything except the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands shifted, each touch sparking a new wave of heat in your body.
He pulled away just enough to speak, his voice low, gravelly. “I told you… I’m not the guy you thought I was.”
You nodded, your throat tight, your chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. You could barely process what was happening. Everything about this felt different, so different from anything you’d imagined. The shy, awkward Jake had been replaced by someone who wasn’t afraid to take what he wanted.
His lips trailed down to your neck, and the soft press of his mouth against your skin made your breath catch in your throat. He moved slowly, deliberately, his hands never straying far from you. The warmth of his touch spread through you, and you felt your body responding in ways you hadn’t expected.
“Jake,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper as his lips traced along your collarbone.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with something primal. “Tell me what you want baby?” His voice was barely audible, but it cut through the fog in your mind.
You didn’t know how to answer, not with words. You had never been this close to him, not like this, not with the air crackling between you like it was about to catch fire. The way the pet name slipped so easily from his mouth made your pussy clench around nothing. But the look in his eyes, the intensity of his gaze, made something stir inside you.
Without thinking, you leaned in again, your lips pressing against his. This time, there was no hesitation. You kissed him back, a little harder this time, both groaning into the kiss as if you were trying to prove something—prove that you were ready for whatever came next.
Jake didn’t pull away. Instead, his hands slid lower, around your waist, pulling you even closer. You felt the heat of his body against yours, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His hands were firm, confident as they explored the curve of your back, the tension in your muscles, the way your body responded to him. 
Every inch of space between you seemed to vanish, and soon there was nothing but the heat, the closeness, and the feeling of his hands on your skin.
For the first time, you weren’t sure if you were in control anymore—or if you ever had been.
Jake pulled away from the kiss, his breath ragged as he looked at you with that same intense gaze. There was something in his eyes—an unspoken challenge, a promise of something you couldn’t quite yet name. You could feel the tension building, heavy in the air between you, thickening with each second that passed.
He reached up slowly, his fingers brushing the collar of his shirt, and your heart skipped a beat as he pulled it over his head, revealing the smooth skin of his chest. The movement was casual, effortless, like he’d done it a thousand times before. His muscles shifted under his skin, the soft light of the room catching the contours of his body, and it was like everything about him felt real now—far more than you ever thought.
You couldn’t help but stare, your gaze tracing over the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. There was no trace of the shy, reserved guy from before. Instead, he stood there—bare, exposed—looking at you with a calm confidence that made your pulse race.
Jake didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. His eyes spoke volumes as they flickered to yours, waiting for you to respond, to make the next move.
Your breath hitched in your throat as you took in the sight of him, suddenly feeling a shift, a hunger building within you that mirrored his own. It was a quiet power, a tension you could feel in your very bones.
Jake’s eyes never left yours as you stood there, frozen for a moment. The air felt thick, charged, as if time had slowed down, and the weight of his gaze made everything around you fade into the background.
He stepped toward you, his chest still bare, his body moving with a kind of fluid confidence that made your pulse spike. Each step he took seemed to make the space between you shrink, until you were once again within inches of him. He didn’t rush. His movements were slow, deliberate, as if he were savoring every moment.
“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice low, steady. The question hung in the air, but there was no hesitation in his tone—only the calm certainty of someone who knew exactly what they wanted.
Your throat tightened, and you nodded, though words seemed impossible to find. The only sound in the room was the quickening rhythm of your breath, mingling with his.
Jake’s hand reached for the hem of your shirt, his fingers grazing your skin as he lifted it, gently pulling it over your head. You let him, your heart pounding in your chest, your skin heating under his touch. He didn’t rush, his hands tracing the curves of your body with careful attention, like he was memorizing every inch of you.
When your shirt finally joined his on the floor, he stepped back slightly to take you in, his gaze sweeping over your exposed skin. His eyes darkened further, a look of quiet admiration in them, but there was something else there too—something predatory, possessive.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice rougher now, the words low but full of meaning.
You could barely process what was happening, but the way he said it—like he was claiming you, and yet somehow honoring you at the same time—made your chest tighten. His hands were at your waist now, pulling you closer again, and his lips found the curve of your neck. He kissed you there softly, his mouth warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.
As he kissed you, his hands moved lower, slowly, deliberately, until he was holding you, guiding you gently toward his bed. There was no rush, no urgency—just the feel of his strong hands, the weight of his body against yours, and the soft pressure of his lips as they trailed down to your collarbone.
Jake was taking his time, savoring the moments. He wanted you—he was showing you that much, but he was also letting you see a side of him that no one else got to experience.
And as he lowered you onto the bed, his lips never leaving your skin, you felt a kind of surrender that you couldn’t explain. He was confident, sure of every move he made. But so were you.
This was new. You were new.
Jake’s lips found the delicate curve of your neck, and you inhaled sharply as a wave of warmth flooded your body. His kisses were slow, teasing, each one leaving a faint, tingling trail on your skin. You could feel his breath against you, warm and steady, as he placed soft, lingering kisses along the sensitive spot beneath your ear.
His hands, still resting on your waist, tightened their grip slightly, pulling you closer to him. Every movement was deliberate, purposeful, as if he was in no rush to get anywhere, wanting to savor every moment.
“You’re such a good girl,” Jake murmured against your skin, his voice low and rough. The words sent a shiver down your spine, stirring something deep inside you. His praise, soft yet commanding, made your heart race even faster, the air between you growing thick with desire.
You couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped your lips, your body reacting to the way his voice made you feel—like you were exactly where you needed to be, like you were his.
Jake smiled against your neck, the words lingering in the air. “So good for me,” he whispered, his lips brushing the spot again. You could feel the confidence in his words, the way he was claiming the moment, claiming you. The heat that had been building between you both was undeniable now, and you knew, without a doubt, that this was no longer the shy, quiet guy from school.
This was Jake. The Jake who knew exactly what he wanted—and wasn’t afraid to take it.
The room felt smaller now, even with the space around you. The air was thick with a quiet tension, a sense of something inevitable hanging between you two. Jake was no longer standing across from you, maintaining that careful distance. He was close—too close—and it was clear that neither of you wanted to back away.
You could feel the pull of him, an invisible force that seemed to draw you in, making it impossible to ignore the heat that had been simmering between you both. You’d known this feeling, this desire, had been building for weeks. But now it was no longer just something you could push aside, something you could pretend wasn’t there.
“Do you trust me?” Jake’s voice was soft, but there was a weight to it, a seriousness that sent a ripple of excitement through you. He was close now, his chest nearly brushing yours, and the way he spoke made it clear he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity.
You nodded, unable to find your voice for a moment, the words lost in the heat of the moment. Jake smiled—genuine, a little wicked—and his hand reached out to guide you toward the desk.
The desk that had become a symbol of something you didn’t even fully understand yet. He placed his hands on your hips, his touch firm but not rough, leading you with careful, deliberate steps. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the edge of the desk against the back of your knees.
He stopped, his lips grazing the side of your neck as he whispered, “Stay still for me baby.”
There was an undeniable force in the way he held you, a promise in his words. Your pulse raced as your hands rested against the cool surface of the desk. The room was suddenly quieter, the sounds of your breaths louder than anything else.
Jake stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his breath ghosted over your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. There was a certain thrill in knowing that he was completely in control, that he was in charge.
His hands moved with purpose, sliding from your hips up your sides, lingering over the curve of your waist, tracing slow circles over your ribs. You wanted to press back against him, to feel the weight of him against you, but something kept you still, some tiny shred of self-control.
Jake's hands moved higher, fingers trailing over your collarbone, and you couldn't help the soft gasp that escaped your lips. His touch was firm, possessive, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You wanted to arch into him, to feel the weight of his body against yours, but you kept your hips planted against the desk, fighting the urge.
Jake's lips traced a path down your neck, and you could feel the smile on his face as he spoke, his voice low and rough. "You're doing so well for me," he murmured.
The words slipped out before you could stop them, your voice shaky and desperate, "I need to feel you-need your cock."
You could feel him smirk against your skin, his hands tracing slow, teasing circles over your hips. "You that desperate, you slut?" he scoffed, his words like a taunt, a challenge.
Jake's words sent heat coursing through your veins, the sound of your own whimpering catching you off guard. It was a sound of desperation, of need, and it betrayed a vulnerability you hadn't meant to show.
But he heard it. Of course he did. He was so close to you, his body pressed against yours, and there were no more secrets between you.
You could feel the anticipation building, the air around you thick with tension. Jake's hands moved with purpose, tugging at your skirt, and it came down in a swift motion, pooling around your ankles. He took a step back, giving you space, and for a moment, you were left standing in just your underwear.
Jake's eyes darkened as he watched you, the desire in his gaze unmistakable. He moved closer again, crowding you against the desk, and you could feel the heat radiating off his bare skin, the way it made your skin prickle with anticipation.
You looked back to see Jake stroking his already leaking cock, letting out a low groan in the process. You could feel a smirk form on his lips as he shoves your panties aside. “Jesus yn, you’re dripping.” His words brought a throbbing sensation to your pussy, a desperate whimper leaving your mouth. “Jake…please,” you begged. “I need to feel you.” The heat in your body was almost unbearable now, your words little more than a ragged breath as you plead with him, "Fuck, Jake." It was like all the thoughts had slipped away from you, replaced by a pulsing need.
Jake didn't hesitate. He was still gripping your hip with one hand, his other wrapping around your waist as he pulled you back against him. There was no more waiting, no more teasing. He was hard and ready, and you could feel it pressed against you, and you were slick and wanting, and you couldn't take it any longer.
With a low, guttural groan, Jake slammed his cock inside your soaked cunt in one motion, causing you both to let out the filthiest sound. 
“fuck, look at you,” jake groaned quietly, fingers spreading your ass apart. “such a filthy little thing, huh? letting me use that pussy mouth like it’s all you’re good for.”
his hand is tangled in your hair now, not tugging—just resting there, warm and heavy, like a crown you’ve earned. you try to stay quiet, knowing that the building has thin walls, spit pooling and dripping down your chin as your rhythm falters under the weight of his words. “Jake, it feels go good—“
“quiet,” he snaps softly, and your lashes flutter as you obey.
good. obedient. ruined.
“that’s it, baby. show me how good you are at taking my cock,” he says, voice almost tender if not for the filth of it. “can’t even breathe right, but you don’t care, do you? you love it too much. love being my perfect little toy.”
you whimper around him, and it makes his hips stutter. his thighs tense.
his control cracks just a little.
“god, you’re so good for me. fuck, baby—so fucking perfect.”
he grits his teeth, hand tightening just slightly in your hair. “no one else gets to see you like this. no one else can. only me.”
your jaw aches. your throat burns. but still, you don’t stop. “this pussy is made for me,” he continued, throwing his head back. “Fucking made for me yn.”
Jake was losing control, his words coming out in sharp breaths. He'd never spoken to you like this before, never so openly, so shamelessly filthy. Your mind was reeling, the sensations overwhelming as he took what he wanted from you, his words only fueling your own desire.
“J-Jake- too much.” you whisper cry to him. He giggles a bit, only looking at you the whole time. “And you love it.” he grabs onto your waist gently. 
You help fuck yourself on him a bit faster and he lets out a groan. “You’re so tight around me.. y/n..” he thinks he hasn’t stretched you out enough beforehand. “We can.. do it..” you say, already out of breath.
You spread your legs a bit more, releasing a bit of tension on him. You succeed taking on his big cock, whilst using his shoulders as handles. “You’re taking it so good..” he whispers. You go faster at his praises.
He’s been stretching you out for a while now, and it definitely got easier over time. The slight discomfort turned into satisfying pleasure for you. His swollen tip hits your g-spot every single time, making you want to cum right there. However, he’s been wanting to finish ever since you started. You feel so good wrapped around him he’s surprised he hasn’t let out any further moan yet. 
His hips move faster again, getting closer to cumming again. Your puffy cunt is crying at this point, while you let out a slight moan with every thrust. You keep going for a bit before, before rolling your eyes back to cum. “I’m— gonna… I… oh m… Jake..” you struggle. 
You don’t get to say anything—your body gives out before your voice can even catch up. Your thighs tremble around him, and you’re a mess in his lap, clinging to him like he’s the only thing grounding you. The sound you let out is raw, louder than before, and Jake just leans back in his chair, watching you fall apart with that smug, wrecked grin of his.
His hands tighten around your waist, keeping you moving even as your body begs for mercy. He’s not letting go—not yet.
“You’re not done,” he mutters low against your throat, lips brushing your skin. “Not until I say so.”
You try to respond, but it’s all heat and haze now. Your chest presses against his as your head drops to his shoulder, and he doesn’t stop—he guides you through every slow grind, every twitch of your body that draws another gasp from your lips. His voice is rough, breathless, right in your ear.
Then his body jerks beneath you, and the way he holds you after—tight, possessive—tells you everything you need to know. His hand slides up your back as you both sit there, the room thick with the aftermath, your bodies still tangled.
You think it’s over. You think maybe now he’ll let you breathe.
But then his grip shifts, and he pulls you right back down onto him, your body jolting at the sudden contact.
A gasp leaves you, and his laugh—low and dangerous—rumbles against your collarbone. “Still so sensitive,” he teases, brushing your hair back as he presses a kiss just below your ear. “Thought you could handle me.”
Your arms drape around his neck again, head buried against his skin, and all you can do is hold on. You kiss the sweat-slicked curve of his jaw, trying to catch your breath while he stays buried deep, unmoving, content to just keep you there—full, overwhelmed, and completely his.
And with one hand still steady on your hip, Jake casually slides his chair back toward his desk, like it’s just another night—like you’re not still trembling on top of him.
Just before he grabs his headset, he whispers, “You should hear yourself.”
By the time you got back to class Monday morning, it was like nothing had ever happened. Or at least, that’s how Jake made it seem.
There he was, slouched in his usual seat at the back of the lecture hall, hoodie half-zipped, glasses perched slightly crooked on the bridge of his nose. He was typing away at his laptop like he hadn’t just had you moaning his name into the crook of his neck two nights ago, skin flushed, bodies tangled.
He glanced up as you walked in. His eyes found yours for a second too long—and then he looked away, pretending to be distracted by something on his screen. You swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch, like he was fighting a smile.
You took your seat a few rows ahead of him, and a minute later, you felt the faintest buzzin your pocket.
“I had fun.”
You turned around. He was staring at his laptop like he hadn’t just texted you that. Like he hadn’t just ruined you on that same voice he used to answer class questions with a stutter.
Jake was still quiet in public, still awkward. He still pushed up his glasses too often and knocked over his water bottle when reaching for his pen. But now, there was a glint in his eyes every time he looked at you. A silent smugness. A private joke only the two of you knew the punchline to.
And when your professor called on him to answer a question, and he stumbled over the words “data structure,” turning slightly pink, you thought—no one else in this room had a clue. No one knew that he’d whispered “stay still for me” against your skin like a command. That the same clumsy guy blushing in front of the class had told you with a dark smirk, “such a good girl, you took me so well.”
You looked over your shoulder again. Jake met your eyes, and this time, he didn’t look away. Just popped a piece of gum into his mouth, chewing slow, gaze steady. And then he winked.
You almost dropped your pen.
You tried to keep it to yourself—you really did. But your friends had spent the last ten minutes at your table giggling over Jake like he was some weird cryptid.
“I checked his Instagram again,” Yuna said, sipping her iced coffee. “He lost a follower. And he posted a blurry picture of a squirrel once.”
“Do you think he even knows how to use Instagram?” Soojin added, snorting. “He gives off ‘my mom made this account for me’ energy.”
You bit your lip, trying not to smile too hard.
“What?” Yuna asked, eyes narrowing at you. “Why are you smiling like that? Don’t tell me you actually think he’s hot.”
“I don’t think he’s hot,” you said slowly, stirring your drink.
They leaned in.
You sighed, leaning back in your seat, glancing over your shoulder out of habit.
“Okay,” you whispered. “This doesn’t leave this table.”
Yuna and Soojin practically vibrated with anticipation.
“I went to his dorm,” you started, voice low. “A few nights ago. His roommate was gone. And he wasn’t wearing glasses. He had contacts in. And he—” you hesitated, heartbeat picking up. “He was acting completely differnt. And we kinda.. you know.”
Yuna let out a dramatic gasp. “No way.”
Soojin cackled. “Shut up. Jake? Jake Sim and y/n fucked?”
You nodded slowly, lips twitching.
“And?” Yuna prompted. “And? What, did he trip over his desk accidentally slip his dick into you?”
You hesitated. “We, uh… no…”
Both of their jaws dropped—and then they burst into laughter.
“No, no, you’re joking,” Soojin said, leaning into Yuna for support. “Jake? Jake had you—what, bent over his gaming chair while his twelve Instagram followers cheered him on?”
“I’m serious,” you said, laughing despite yourself. “He’s not—he’s not how you think he is. Not when we’re alone.”
“Okay, now you’re just making it sound like he’s Batman,” Yuna snorted. “By day, he’s a bio major with a screen protector on his calculator. By night—”
“Hey.” A voice cut in behind you.
You froze.
Yuna’s eyes widened.
Soojin slapped a hand over her mouth.
You turned your head slowly—Jake was standing there, tray in hand, his expression unreadable. His glasses were on, hoodie loose, hair a little messy like he’d just rolled out of bed.
“Hi,” he said, voice calm, like he hadn’t just caught you mid-confession.
You blinked up at him. “Jake.”
He looked at your friends, then back at you. “You forgot your charger last night.”
He placed it next to your drink, eyes flicking down to your hand for half a second.
“Thanks,” you said, voice quiet.
Jake gave you a lazy smile—barely there, but you knew it. You knew that look now. He turned, walked away like nothing happened, headphones already around his neck.
You turned back to your friends.
Their mouths were hanging open.
“…You’re not joking,” Yuna said flatly.
“I told you,” you whispered, trying—and failing—to hide the grin pulling at your lips.
Your friends were still frozen, processing, as Jake walked off toward the other end of the café like he hadn’t just detonated a bomb and left you to deal with the aftermath. He didn’t look back, but the slow, smug drag of his steps made it very clear—he knew exactly what he was doing.
“I…” Yuna blinked. “Was that your charger?”
You nodded, sipping your drink to hide your smirk.
Soojin finally found her voice. “Did he say last night?”
You nodded again, this time a little slower.
Both of them let out the most synchronized gasps you’d ever heard in your life.
“Girl,” Yuna whispered, leaning across the table like she was afraid someone would overhear, “what the hell is going on? That’s not even—Jake? Like, Jake Sim? He’s—he’s a meme. We literally made a Bingo card of the number of times he trips in the hallway!”
“Yeah,” you said, unable to stop the warmth in your cheeks. “And apparently, he’s also capable of blowing my back out while explaining the difference between RAM and ROM.”
Soojin shrieked. “Stop!”
You were laughing now, the kind that bubbles up and won’t stop. It was ridiculous. All of it. And yet, every time you thought about the way he kissed you—like he knew what he was doing, like he’d been waiting for the right moment to show you—you felt your knees threaten to give out.
“Okay,” Yuna said, gripping your arm. “So, wait. Is he, like… your boyfriend now? Or is this just an elite phase?”
You opened your mouth—then closed it again.
You hadn’t even thought that far.
Jake hadn’t said anything official. No labels. No talks. Just quiet texts. A stolen charger. A wink in lecture. And the memory of him whispering in your ear, voice low and breathless, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.
“I don’t know,” you admitted honestly. “But I don’t think this is just a one-time thing.”
At that exact moment, your phone buzzed again.
“also, I meant every word I said to you”
Your head snapped up. Across the room, Jake was seated with his laptop open, headset slung around his neck, biting into a sandwich like the most innocent man alive.
Your stomach flipped.
This menace. This liar. This actor.
Your thumbs hovered over the screen, a mix of embarrassment and fondness curling in your chest.
“you’re actually evil”
“i hate you”
“i hate that i don’t hate you”
A beat passed.
“you’re cute when you fluster. wanna come over after chem?”
Your friends didn’t even need to ask who you were texting. They saw your face and groaned in unison.
And for once, you didn’t even deny it.
Jake was a master of the double life. You didn’t know how he did it, but it was like he could flip a switch whenever he stepped foot in the hallways of the university.
In class? A complete disaster.
The shy, bumbling guy you’d always seen—his glasses slipping down his nose, tripping over his own feet as he made his way to his desk. He’d stammer when he spoke to the professor, barely making eye contact with anyone, and was always the first to look down at his phone when group discussions came up. The Jake everyone saw was awkward, quiet, and somehow endearing in his nerdy way. The one who sat by himself in the cafeteria, fiddling with his notebook, hoping no one would notice him.
And yet, you knew. You knew there was something more beneath that awkward exterior. Something darker, something confident. You’d seen it for yourself, just two nights ago. The quiet guy who barely spoke a word in class had turned into a completely different person behind closed doors.
But here, in the hallway, between classes, you wouldn’t have been able to guess that same Jake was the one who had you shivering under his touch, whispering praises into your ear like he owned you.
You were walking past his usual spot in the library when you caught him fumbling with a stack of books, his face scrunched up in concentration. He didn’t notice you at first, too focused on his task. But when he looked up, the usual blush crept up his neck, and his mouth opened, but no words came out.
“Hi,” you said casually, a teasing grin tugging at the corner of your mouth. “You need help with those?”
He gave a nervous laugh, adjusting his glasses and dropping the books onto the table like his hands suddenly didn’t know how to hold them anymore. “Uh, yeah, no, I—um, I got it. Thanks, though.”
You could barely contain your laughter. Here he was, this guy who had literally whispered praises in your ear only days ago, looking like a total mess in front of you. He couldn’t even manage eye contact without turning an embarrassing shade of pink.
“So,” you said, leaning against the bookshelf beside him, your arms casually crossed. “You been doing any more squirrel photography lately?”
Jake froze, his face flushing deeper. “Uh, n-no,” he stammered, grabbing his books a little too quickly. “I— I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
It was like watching a completely different person. Gone was the guy who had held you close, kissed you with authority. Gone was the guy who made you forget everything when his lips were on your neck. Now, he was just a bumbling mess, avoiding your eyes, looking everywhere but at you.
“You’re so weird,” you teased lightly. “You know, I’ve been wondering… is it really the glasses, or is it the awkwardness? Which one is the real you?”
Jake opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He just looked at you, a mixture of embarrassment and—was that a hint of guilt? Like he had a secret he didn’t want anyone to know.
“Never mind,” you said with a smirk, walking away from him. “Keep up the good work, loser.”
You could feel him watching you, probably frozen in place, but you didn’t care. It was almost unbelievable how different he could act when it was just the two of you alone in a room. The guy who couldn’t make it through a simple conversation in public had turned into the man who made you forget your own name when he had his hands on you.
But for now, all you could do was shake your head and laugh, marveling at how Jake was pulling off his double life—completely clueless and completely in control, all at once.
The cafeteria went silent the moment you walked past your usual table and headed straight for his.
Jake was sitting alone, as usual—tray of barely-touched food in front of him, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands like he was trying to disappear into himself. He was hunched over his phone, earbuds in, completely unaware of the social earthquake that was about to hit.
You plopped down across from him without warning.
His head snapped up. He blinked, startled. “Wh—uh… hey?”
Conversations around you dipped, and you could feel the whispers starting. Not subtle ones either. Real, full-body turns. Eyes darting. Forks pausing mid-air. People whispering you’re joking, is that Y/N? and she’s sitting with him?
You just smiled, opening your drink like this was the most normal thing in the world. “Relax,” you said, lowering your voice and leaning forward just a little. “You’re acting like I just declared war on the entire social order.”
He pushed his glasses up and blinked a few times. “You… you don’t usually—uh, sit here.”
“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. “But today I felt like sitting with my favorite academic weapon slash secret menace.”
Jake choked on his water.
You grinned. “Also, I think I’ve figured you out.”
He swallowed hard. “F-Figured me out?”
“Yup.” You tilted your head at him, keeping your voice low and teasing. “I think your glasses are what activate your awkward personality. Like a switch. You wear them? Jake the human embodiment of a shy turtle. You take them off? Boom. Total menace.”
His ears turned pink. He scratched the back of his neck, trying to look casual but failing completely. “They’re prescription…”
“And yet they’re also your disguise,” you smirked.
Around you, the buzz of conversation slowly picked back up. Everyone was still sneaking glances, but they were getting bored now that you weren’t making out on the table or confessing your love with a boombox overhead. One by one, people returned to their own lunches.
And that’s when he looked up at you—and really looked.
The second your audience was gone, the timid act melted off his face like it had never existed. His back straightened. His expression shifted, eyes sharpening just a little, mouth tugging into that familiar slow smirk that made your stomach flip.
“You like the glasses?” he asked, voice lower now, smooth and lazy.
You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden switch.
He leaned forward on his elbows, gaze steady and annoyingly smug. “You think that’s what keeps me from bending you over this table right now?”
You nearly choked on your drink.
“There’s the menace,” you muttered, eyes narrowing as your pulse spiked.
Jake smiled like he’d just won something. “You came to my table, remember?”
“And now I’m questioning everything.”
He laughed under his breath, picking up a fry from his tray and tossing it into his mouth like he had all the time in the world.
“Too late,” he said, chewing. “You already made your choice. Better hope no one figures out what I look like without the glasses.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Are you threatening me?”
He grinned. “I’m warning you.”
And just like that, he went back to sipping his water, glasses slipping again, hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands. Back to harmless, quiet Jake.
But you knew better now.
So did he.
You were two seconds away from dragging Jake by the collar.
He sat stiffly next to you on the couch, surrounded by your friends, looking like someone who’d just been dropped into a completely foreign dimension. His hoodie was zipped all the way up to his neck, hands tucked into his sleeves, legs pressed together like he was trying to take up the least amount of space possible.
Your friends were trying. God bless them, they were.
“So, Jake,” Yuna said, passing him a slice of pizza. “What are you majoring in again?”
Jake blinked. “Um. Bio.”
Silence.
Soojin tried to jump in. “Cool! Are you doing like, pre-med or something?”
Jake stared at the pizza in his lap like it personally offended him. “No.”
You gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs. He flinched. “I, uh… I just like cells.”
More silence.
You shot him a look.
Jake gave a weak smile. “Cells are nice.”
You excused yourself to the kitchen before your soul could physically leave your body from secondhand embarrassment. Jake followed, like a lost puppy—but once the two of you were out of earshot, you whirled on him.
“Are you serious right now?”
Jake blinked innocently. “What?”
“You’re acting like a scared freshman at their first club meeting. Can you just…” You groaned, tugging him by the sleeve. “Be normal. Be you. The you that had me on my knees last weekend.”
Jake raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You want me to flirt with your friends?”
You narrowed your eyes. “I want you to act like you’re not a socially-anxious squirrel.”
He leaned against the counter with a little too much confidence now. “Babe, I already got what I wanted. I don’t need to charm your friends.”
You stepped closer, lowering your voice. “If you keep acting like a brick wall, I swear to god I’m not giving you head again.”
Jake blinked.
Then he straightened.
“You wouldn’t.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Try me.”
There was a moment of silence. He stared at you like you’d just ripped the moon from the sky and thrown it in his face.
And then—he sighed dramatically. “Fine.”
You watched him walk back into the living room, a defeated slump in his shoulders. But right before he sat down again, he glanced back at you and mouthed, rude.
You just smiled sweetly.
You watched him march right back into the living room like a man on a mission. No hoodie shielding his face, no sleeves hiding his hands—Jake dropped onto the couch next to Yuna like he belonged there. Like he hadn’t just been threatening to pretend he didn’t know the English language five minutes ago.
“So,” he said casually, draping one arm along the back of the couch. “Y/N tells me you guys stalked my Instagram.”
Your head snapped up.
Yuna blinked, caught. “W-What?”
Jake smirked. “Twelve followers and still managed to bag your friend. Pretty impressive, right?”
Your jaw dropped.
Soojin choked on her drink.
Yuna looked like she’d just short-circuited.
“I mean, I don’t post thirst traps or anything,” Jake continued, tone light but clearly enjoying himself. “Y/n says I should.”
You were frozen. You hadn’t even known he could talk in complete sentences around your friends, let alone roast them.
He glanced at you mid-sentence, lips twitching. “What? You said be normal.”
“This is not what I meant by normal,” you hissed under your breath.
Jake only smiled wider.
“I mean,” he said louder now, eyes gleaming, “Y/N didn’t really stand a chance. She was obsessed with me from the moment she saw me trip over a recycling bin.”
You stared at him, half-horrified, half-impressed. The duality of this man was actually insane.
“You’re the worst,” you muttered, but your voice was shaking with barely contained laughter.
He leaned back on the couch, one leg crossed over the other like he’d been doing this all his life. “I prefer ‘underrated.’”
Soojin blinked at you, stunned. “Is this the same Jake?”
“Sadly,” you deadpanned.
Jake stretched his arms overhead, smirking like he’d just won something. “Told you. Glasses on—loser. Glasses off?” He looked at you over the rim of his drink. “Problem.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling.
Because he was right.
The conversation shifted, but Jake didn’t shrink back like he normally would. In fact, he leaned in. Tossed out a few sarcastic remarks, made a joke about the weird guy in your chem lecture, and even stole a fry off Yuna’s plate like he’d known her for years.
You sat there stunned, barely able to process the whiplash of it all.
At one point, Soojin gave you a look—eyebrows raised, lips parted like girl…—and you just blinked back, equally bewildered.
Jake caught the exchange, of course. He always did. He leaned over toward you, his voice dropping low, just for you to hear.
“Still mad at me?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
You didn’t look at him. “You’re skating on very thin ice.”
He chuckled softly. “You threatening me again?”
You smirked, finally glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “I don’t threaten, Jake. I warn.”
That seemed to only encourage him. “You know I love when you talk like that.”
You elbowed him under the table, but he didn’t even flinch—just grinned like the menace he was.
Eventually, your friends began packing up their things, saying goodbye, and heading out one by one. Jake stayed close beside you, still riding the high of finally breaking his “awkward loner” act in public.
As the room cleared, he bumped your shoulder lightly. “So… did I do good?”
You stared at him. “You did too good.”
He raised a brow, amused. “Jealous?”
“No,” you scoffed, gathering your stuff. “More like terrified of the monster I just unleashed.”
Jake slung his bag over his shoulder, his grin never fading. “Told you. You’re the one who wanted me to be social. You made this happen.”
You paused at the doorway, giving him a long look. “You’re still not getting head tonight.”
He laughed, following close behind you. “Liar.”
God help you—he was right again.
Jake walked you back to your dorm with a bounce in his step, like he hadn’t just caused a minor social earthquake in your friend group. You kept glancing over at him, trying to find even a trace of the shy, fumbling version of him your friends had always known—but nope. Gone. Completely replaced by this smug, way-too-proud-of-himself creature strutting beside you like he’d just won an Oscar.
“You seriously said ‘bagged your friend,’” you muttered, shaking your head.
Jake shrugged, completely unapologetic. “I was being honest.”
“You’re impossible.”
He smirked, leaning closer so his shoulder bumped yours. “But you love me anyway.”
Your heart did a weird little skip, but you masked it with a scoff. “Mm, debatable.”
He laughed, but you could tell he noticed the way your ears flushed. Jake always noticed. Which made it all the more dangerous when he decided to push.
“You sure?” he said lowly, glancing at you sideways. “Because if I remember correctly, few nights ago you were practically begging—”
You slapped a hand over his mouth before he could finish. “Don’t you dare say that sentence out loud.”
Jake’s laughter vibrated against your palm, and he licked it just to be annoying.
“Jake!”
“What?” he said, completely unbothered, mouth curling into that damn smile again. “I’m just saying, you seemed pretty in love with me when you were—”
“I swear to god, I won’t let you cum tonight.”
He grinned. “Still wouldn’t change what happened on my desk.”
You groaned, unlocking your door and stepping inside, not even bothering to push him out. He followed like he lived there, already dropping his bag on your floor and toeing off his shoes.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” you muttered, tossing your jacket on the chair, “but I kinda miss socially awkward Jake.”
Jake leaned against your desk—the very one he had completely ruined you on—crossing his arms with a smug tilt of his head.
“I’ll bring him back next time we’re around your friends,” he said sweetly. “Wouldn’t want to scare anyone.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re the worst.”
He took a slow step toward you. “And yet…”
You backed up until the backs of your knees hit your bed. Jake caged you in without touching you, just that cocky little smirk inches from your mouth.
“…you keep letting me in.”
Your breath hitched.
You hated how right he was.
He didn’t even have to touch you—just standing there, close enough to fog up your brain, was enough to make your breath catch. That same smug little smirk tugged at the corner of his lips like he knew. (And he did. He always did.)
You crossed your arms, trying to look unaffected. “We’re not doing anything tonight.”
Jake tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Didn’t say we were.”
“You were thinking it.”
He grinned. “Can’t a guy hang out with his girlfriend without being accused of crimes?”
You blinked. “Your what?”
Jake froze for half a second—just enough to catch it—then played it off with a shrug, looking entirely too casual. “You. My girlfriend.”
“Jake,” you said slowly, “we haven’t even been on a date yet.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, and?”
You stared at him.
He held your gaze, deadpan. “We’ve had sex on your desk.”
Your mouth opened, then shut again. He just kept going.
“I’ve had my tongue in you. Multiple times. You think a coffee date is gonna make it moreofficial?”
You smacked his shoulder, cheeks burning. “You’re insane.”
Jake smiled, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. “You’re stuck with me now. Might as well give me the title.”
You rolled your eyes, but your hands found the hem of his hoodie anyway, fingers curling there.
“This better not mean I have to start posting you on my story.”
“Oh no,” he teased. “Anything but that.”
You sighed. “Fine. One date. But you’re planning it.”
Jake smirked, already way too pleased with himself. “Good. I was gonna make you fall in love with me anyway.”
It became… a problem.
First it was your friends catching you two making out in the library stacks. Then it was the quad. Then the empty art building stairwell. At one point, Yuna dramatically threatened to carry a spray bottle in her bag just to spritz you both like misbehaving cats.
You tried to tone it down. Really. But Jake had this stupid, unfair ability to get under your skin with just one look. One whisper. One brush of his hand against your lower back when no one was watching.
And then there was the incident. The one no one dared to speak about—but everyone knew.
You’d followed Jake into the men’s washroom between lectures, heart pounding, brain nowhere near your upcoming lab. One minute you were teasing him red, leaking tip with minor kitty licks, the next—A very unfortunate and traumatized TA walked in at the exact wrong time.
To this day, you’re not sure who was more horrified: you, Jake, or the TA who immediately did a full 180 and walked straight back out without a word.
Jake couldn’t stop laughing. You couldn’t show your face in that building for a week.
Now every time you pass that hallway, he leans in with a whisper and a smug, “Wanna relive the glory days?”
You elbow him. Hard. But your ears still burn.
Because the worst part? You absolutely do.
You hadn’t even had a chance to settle into the cozy atmosphere of a movie night with Jake, Sunghoon, and Sunoo before everything went to hell.
It was supposed to be a simple night. You, Jake, and his friends, chilling on the couch, watching some random movie Sunghoon picked out after a few too many awkward silences. You’d been mentally preparing yourself for this, maybe even looking forward to getting to know his friends better. You’d heard so much about them, and Sunoo had been sending you memes for weeks now, always so sweet and teasing.
But instead of a normal movie night, you ended up on Jake’s lap with your lips pressed to his, unable to hold back as he slipped his hands beneath your hoodie. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, and you completely forgot about the stupid film Sunghoon had started. All that mattered was the heat building between you and Jake, the sound of his breath against your mouth, the way he was slowly getting bolder, moving his lips to your neck—
And then, the unmistakable sound of a throat clearing from across the room.
You froze, eyes widening, and pulled back from Jake just as Sunghoon and Sunoo exchanged awkward glances.
“Well,” Sunghoon said, adjusting his glasses with a little too much casualness, “This is… an interesting way to start a movie night.”
You sat up quickly, heart racing. “We—uh, we weren’t—”
Sunoo cut you off with a laugh that had a slightly knowing edge to it. “Don’t worry, I’ve seen worse. But wow, didn’t think I’d be walking in on this so soon.”
You could feel your face heating up, but Jake, the menace, only smirked, his arm still casually draped around you. “I was just showing her how comfortable the couch is. Isn’t it nice, babe?”
Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at that, glancing between you two. “Comfortable, huh? Good to know.”
Sunoo chuckled. “I guess I’m glad we finally got a front-row seat to Jake’s ‘split personality.’” His voice dropped to an exaggerated whisper, adding, “Who knew the shy, awkward guy could get so… intense.”
You looked at Jake, whose eyes were practically glowing with mischief. You knew exactly what that meant.
“I told you guys,” Jake said, sliding his fingers through your hair, his voice low and smooth. “She’s got me wrapped around her finger. Not just with the whole ‘studious boyfriend’ act.”
Sunghoon chuckled and shook his head. “I’m just here for the popcorn, but whatever you guys are doing, you’re definitely ruining the vibe of the movie.”
You swore you could feel the heat radiating from your face, but Jake was entirely too smug, his hand never leaving your waist. “Movie’s overrated anyway,” he said with a wink. “Better company right here.”
The tension in the room was palpable, but somehow, you knew this was just the beginning. Jake wasn’t about to stop teasing you in front of his friends, and now they definitely knew what he was like when he wasn’t playing the quiet, shy guy.
It had been exactly one month since you and Jake made things official, and somewhere along the way, he had somehow charmed all your friends.
Yuna, especially.
What started off as teasing glances and snarky comments turned into him greeting her with “What’s up, my other girl?” in front of literally everyone—like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You’d laughed the first time. Sort of.
The second time, your smile was tight.
By the third, you didn’t even look at him. Just turned around, grabbed your bag, and left without a word. The silence that followed was deafening.
He texted. Called. Showed up at your dorm with snacks, guilty puppy-dog eyes, and one of your hoodies you’d accidentally left at his place.
You didn’t budge.
Not when he spammed you with voice memos or when he got Sunoo to send you dramatic apologies on his behalf. Not even when Yuna told you that Jake had asked herhow to fix it, which was ironic in the most painful way possible.
A week passed. You were starting to miss him—his touch, his stupid jokes, the way he looked at you like you hung stars in his sky—but you were petty, and prideful, and notabout to forgive him over something as dumb as a nickname that made your stomach twist.
But Jake knew you. And Jake never lost.
The night you finally gave in, he showed up to your dorm without a word, eyes dark, hands careful. He didn’t ask if he could stay. Just got down on his knees, pulled you to the edge of the bed, and showed you how sorry he was.
You didn’t even realize your fingers were tangled in his hair, hips shaking as he flicked your clit around with his tongue, breath caught somewhere between a moan and a sob.
By the time he looked up, lips swollen, pupils blown wide, your legs were trembling and you couldn’t remember what planet you were on.
“Still mad at me?” he asked, voice hoarse, a little smug, but mostly sincere.
You tried to speak, failed. All you could do was blink down at him.
He kissed the inside of your thigh. “Good. Because you’re my only girl.”
And yeah—he won. Again.
The next morning, Jake acted like nothing happened.
He was sprawled across your tiny dorm bed, hair a mess, hoodie half-off his shoulder, munching on the cereal you kept strictly for late-night study stress. Like he hadn’t just given you an out-of-body experience twelve hours ago.
You stood at the mirror brushing your hair, shooting him a look through the reflection. “You’re really just gonna sit there like you didn’t have me literally sobbing last night?”
Jake grinned around a spoonful of cereal. “I figured you forgave me when you couldn’t feel your legs after.”
You tossed a hair tie at him. He dodged, laughing.
“You’re lucky I didn’t call you a cab,” you said, turning back around.
“I am lucky,” he said, voice lower now, more serious, “but not just for that.”
You paused. Met his eyes.
Jake set the bowl aside and stood up, crossing the room to wrap his arms around your waist from behind. His chin rested on your shoulder, voice soft. “I’m sorry for the Yuna thing. I thought I was being funny. I didn’t realize it hurt you.”
You didn’t respond right away. He held you tighter.
“You know I only want you, right?”
You nodded, finally. “You’re still an idiot.”
“Yeah,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “But I’m your idiot.”
You rolled your eyes, but leaned into him anyway, the tension finally melting.
Later that day, Yuna raised an eyebrow as you walked into the café together, hand-in-hand with Jake.
“Back from the dead?” she teased.
Jake smirked. “Had to perform a little resurrection.”
You buried your face in your drink. Yuna just laughed.
“Oh god,” she muttered. “Don’t tell me it was head.”
Jake shot her a look. “Mind-blowing head.”
You choked.
“Please stop speaking,” you begged.
Jake just kissed your cheek and pulled you closer.
You really were doomed.
You’d completely forgotten your parents were in town until you got the text while Jake was still whispering absolute filth into your ear in the café line.
[Mom]: Just landed. So excited to see you, sweetie! Brunch tomorrow? Bring your boyfriend!
You choked on your iced americano so violently Jake had to pat your back.
“Everything okay?” he asked, smirking like he already knew it wasn’t.
You turned your phone around to show him the message.
He blinked. “Wait. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Like—your parents tomorrow?”
“Yes, Jake. My parents. Brunch. You. Me. And them.”
He stared at you for a full three seconds, then grinned. “I’ve already got the button-up shirt in mind.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re way too calm about this.”
“I’m amazing with parents.”
“You’re amazing at pretending to be someone’s quiet, innocent boyfriend. That’s not the same.”
Jake leaned in, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Don’t worry, baby. They’ll love me.”
“You’re gonna wear your glasses, right?”
“Obviously.”
“Act like you’ve never touched me.”
“Sweetheart, I’ll act like I don’t even know what a woman is.”
You snorted, already stressed. “This is going to be a disaster.”
Jake pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Nah. I’m gonna charm them. Just like I charmed you.”
You turned to give him a look. “You charmed me by blowing my back out in a library storage room, Jake.”
“Exactly,” he said, way too proud.
You groaned.
Tomorrow could not come fast—or end—soon enough.
The next morning, Jake showed up ten minutes early to your dorm, looking like he’d walked straight out of a K-drama.
Crisp white button-up, hair brushed neatly off his forehead, his glasses perfectly in place—he even brought your mom’s favorite pastries, like he’d been studying your family’s group chat for weeks.
“You look…” You blinked, slowly dragging your gaze down his outfit. “So well-behaved.”
Jake smirked, tucking the pastry box under one arm and reaching for your hand. “Don’t worry. I left the demon version of me in your sheets.”
You nearly tripped on the way out the door.
Your parents were already waiting at the little brunch spot downtown, and as soon as your mom saw you, she lit up—then caught sight of Jake behind you and blinked like she was seeing a puppy dressed in a tuxedo.
“This is Jake?” she asked, already halfway through hugging him. “You’re even cuter than she said!”
Jake laughed, soft and shy, adjusting his glasses. “Thank you, ma’am. It’s really nice to meet you.”
You sat stiffly across from them, fully prepared for the absolute chaos that was surely coming, but Jake? He played the role like he’d been training for it all his life.
He complimented your mom’s earrings. Asked your dad smart, boring questions about work. Even waited until you were done speaking before cutting into his food.
It was unsettling.
“Jake’s in my organic chem lecture,” you said at one point, trying to keep the conversation neutral.
“Oh, is he any good?” your dad asked.
Jake smiled bashfully. “She usually tutors me, actually. I’m a bit hopeless when it comes to chemistry.”
You almost choked on your orange juice.
Your mom beamed. “I love that. I always told her she’d be such a good teacher.”
Jake nodded sincerely, resting his hand on your knee under the table, subtle and grounding. “She’s been teaching me a lot.”
Your stomach flipped for a very different reason.
By the end of brunch, your mom was begging him to come over for dinner “next time we visit,” and your dad gave him a shoulder pat like he’d just been accepted into the family.
As soon as you were out of earshot, walking back toward campus, you smacked his arm. “You manipulative little bitch!”
Jake grinned, holding up the box of leftover pastries like a trophy. “They love me.”
“You were lying through your teeth!”
Jake shrugged. “It’s not lying if I really do think you’re amazing at teaching me things. Like patience. Self-control.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re a menace.”
“And yet,” he said, stepping in close, voice low in your ear, “your mom just called me boyfriend material.”
You shoved him. “You are never seeing my parents again.”
“Sure, baby. You tell yourself that.”
And yeah, fine—he was boyfriend material. Just not the kind your parents had any idea about.
That night, you laid in bed scrolling through your messages while Jake sat cross-legged at the foot, shamelessly eating the last of the leftover pastries your mom had insisted he take.
Your phone buzzed again.
[Mom]: He’s adorable. Polite, smart, and that accent?? Keeper.
You rolled your eyes so hard your soul almost left your body.
Jake leaned over your shoulder. “What’d she say now?”
You turned the screen toward him. He read it, then bit into a croissant like he’d just won a championship.
“I am polite. And smart. And my voice is sexy, apparently.”
You deadpanned. “You’re a literal demon. With glasses.”
Jake leaned down and nuzzled against your neck with the fakest innocence he could muster. “You weren’t saying that when I was—”
You slapped a hand over his mouth. “No. My mom said ‘keeper.’ Don’t make me reevaluate.”
He laughed into your palm, biting it lightly before you yanked it back. He flopped onto the bed beside you, stretching out with a satisfied sigh like he’d just wrapped up a performance of a lifetime.
“I could get used to this,” he murmured, eyes half-lidded. “Winning over your friends, seducing your parents…”
“Manipulating the entire population,” you muttered.
Jake turned his head, smirking. “But only for you.”
You tried not to melt. You really did. But then he pulled you down beside him, arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you into the warm curve of his body.
“You know,” he whispered, voice dropping back into that cocky, devastating register, “your parents think I’m this sweet, respectful, glasses-wearing boyfriend who can’t even pass chem without your help.”
You blinked up at him, breath catching.
He leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “And they’ll never know what their daughter sounds like when she’s underneath me, begging.”
You slapped his chest with a muffled laugh, face buried in his shirt. “You’re the worst.”
Jake just grinned against your temple.
“I’m yours.”
The next morning, Jake was already pulling on his hoodie, his bags—stuffed with random clothes, books, and a few things that had slowly found their way into your dorm—strewn across your floor.
You sat up in bed, the lingering warmth of his body beside you still making your heart flutter. It had become a regular thing now—Jake staying over, bringing more of his things each time, settling into a routine that felt strangely comfortable. It was a mixture of affection and chaos, and you loved every minute of it.
“You should’ve just left your stuff here last night,” you teased, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “Could’ve saved us the trouble.”
Jake smirked, looking up from rummaging through his backpack. “Don’t want to seem too comfortable too soon, babe. You know, I’ve still got that mysterious ‘bad boy’ act to keep up.”
You rolled your eyes. “Uh-huh. Sure. That’s what you’re going for.”
He shot you a wink, tossing a hoodie at you. “Anyway, can’t let the world see the ‘good boy’ too much, can I?”
He was back to his cocky self, the guy who showed up to school acting like the confident, teasing Jake you had come to know, and honestly, you couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly he flipped between his personas.
You both left the dorm and started the walk to campus, his hand in yours, the usual mix of comfortable silence and random teasing that filled your daily routines.
Just as you were about to walk up the steps to your building, Jake, always the graceful disaster, tripped on the stairs and sent his coffee flying across the sidewalk.
“Are you serious?” you asked, blinking in disbelief.
Jake stood there for a second, coffee splattered all over his hoodie and the ground beneath him, looking utterly stunned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
You couldn’t stop laughing. “Every time. I swear to god, you’re like a walking disaster.”
Jake turned to you, the faintest blush coloring his cheeks as he scratched the back of his neck, trying to play it off. “I meant to do that. Just making sure everyone’s paying attention.”
“Yeah, you definitely got their attention, Jake,” you teased. “Don’t worry, I’m sure everyone saw your epic performance.”
He shot you a grin, wiping at his clothes like it would make a difference. “I’m not a loser. I’m just… trying to get a reaction.”
“And you definitely got one,” you snorted, taking his hand and leading him inside.
Even though he tried to play it off as cool, the truth was, you were starting to see a side of Jake that was a little more… normal than you first expected.
And as ridiculous as the whole thing was, there was something about it—the balance of confident teasing and hilarious clumsiness—that felt right.
At least, for you and him, it did.
You nudged him with your elbow. “You gonna be okay, or do I need to get you another one before you wither away in front of me?”
Jake groaned dramatically. “I needed that caffeine. My whole personality relies on it.”
You laughed as you pushed open the lecture hall doors. “Your personality is currently soaked into your hoodie.”
Unfortunately for Jake, your shared class had already started to fill up. A few people looked up as you both walked in—him with wet coffee splatter down his front, you trying not to laugh loud enough for the whole room to hear.
“Is that Jake Sim?” someone whispered behind you.
You heard a snort. “Why does he look like someone’s intern who just got fired?”
Jake sat down beside you with a huff, dropping his bag and whispering, “This is the most humbling morning of my life.”
You rached over, wiped a little splatter off his sleeve, and leaned close. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
He blinked at you, caught off guard. “Wait. You think I’m cute even like this?”
You grinned. “I think you’re cute especially like this.”
Jake slumped in his chair, defeated but amused. “I’m literally a walking split personality. Demon boyfriend at night, clumsy nerd by morning. This isn’t sustainable.”
“You say that like I’m not completely obsessed with both versions.”
He paused, looking at you with that soft, wide-eyed gaze he got when you caught him off guard.
“Yeah?” he said, quieter this time.
You nodded, bumping your knee against his. “Yeah.”
Jake smiled down at his ruined coffee cup.
“Still not over the fact I tripped in front of like thirty people though,” he muttered, and you snorted so loud the row in front of you turned around.
At least now, everyone knew—Jake Sim might’ve been a quiet loser to the rest of the campus, but to you?
He was everything.
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tokoyamisstuff · 4 months ago
Text
Second Chance At Love Pt. 3
Variant! Invincible x gn! Reader
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Warnings: angst, blood, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, not proofread A/N: don't worry, this is not over yet! and sorry to all the og Mark fans lmao
[A few minutes earlier, Pentagon Medical Ward]
"So you left my friend alone with this freak the whole time?!"
Cecil's thumb was hesitating on the trigger for the high-frequency device, not wanting to stain his relationship with the original Mark any further - but after witnessing what his variants were capable of, he's certainly not taking any chances.
"Calm. Down." he urges the young Viltrumite while trying to remain amenable at the same time. "We needed to take care of the active threats beforehand, and also...he seemed quite fond of your friend." That last part he regretted immediately after saying it aloud.
"You can't be serious!" Mark now screamed, dramatically throwing his hands in the air, thus making all nearby agents cower in fear. "It was you who told me that one of those psychos tried to lure my mom out to kill her! What else do you think this is? He made my friend believe he's me, to play some sort of wicked game!"
All that had happened those past few days...the death and destruction...Mark blamed himself for all of it, because at the bottom line everything was inevitably caused by his own lack of resolve.
And there he was, hiding away at Eve's sickbed like a stubborn child, cowardly refusing to take responsibility as earth's last hope, while others were risking their lives to correct his errors, hell, while his brother and mom were still out there!
Once again he let everyone down.
But Mark won't let any more people he cares about suffer because of his own shortcomings. This time he won't hold back...
...he'll kill this variant and make him pay for what he's done.
Picking up his mask from the counter, he bids his still comatose girlfriend one last look, very well aware how disappointed she'd be at his latest decisions. She'd want him to go. So he mutters a silent apology before rushing into the hallway, with Cecil following closely behind.
"Teleport me to them. And you better send as many backup reanimen as you can."
[Current time]
"Careful Mark. If our observations are correct, this one is way stronger than the others." The hero huffs in annoyance upon hearing Cecil's voice from his earpiece, watching his other self come out of the debris with not a hair out of place.
Well, most of the variants probably never faced any real threat or even slight disadvantage in their lives. There was simply no reason for them to train properly, since the powergap between Viltrumites and any other species was just so ridiculously high.
This version of Mark however spent his entire life preparing his vengeance on Omni-man for taking the one and only thing he truly cared about...
...and his hard work seemed to bear fruit, since a single counterattack of his was painful enough to temporarily stun the original. He seized the opportunity to pin his opponent down, landing one severe blow after another until both of them were completely covered in the original Mark's blood.
"NO!" you screamed at the top of your lungs, having thrown yourself onto the variant's back as you - brave yet very foolishly - tried to to get those two behemoths away from each other. And in the end, your struggle and pleas actually made the variant stop in his tracks. "Please...don't kill him."
For a split second you see the look of heartbreak and betrayal in the man's face, since seeing you still care so much for the original erased all hope he had started to harbor.
Your world's Mark has everything he ever wanted, and he doesn't even understand how lucky he is.
This is so fucking unfair, it's driving him insane.
The Viltrumite raises his bloodied knuckles to his temples, his jealousy spiraling into a violent, irrational urge to tear the original apart and take his place.
And yet he tries to keep it together for your sake as he couldn't bear to cause you any more sorrow. He glares you down with so much malice "That was self-defense" he scoffed through strained breaths, desperately trying to prevent himself from having a mental breakdown. "I wasn't actually going to-"
Now it was the original Mark's chance to turn the battle around, grabbing the variant by the throat as he crushed him against a mountain not far from the hill you were on.
While your former friend was completely disregarding you, rationality overthrown by his wrath, the other Invincible's eyes were practically glued to you in concern for your safety. At first he was holding back, letting the attacker use him as a punching bag in hopes it'd calm him down...
...but when he recognized the capsules transporting reanimen falling from the sky, he pounced on you with no forethought, shielding you from the impact with his own body.
"Shit, are you oka-" Another time he was torn away from you, with Mark yelling at him to keep his filthy hands off of you. And yet with every move, no matter what, the other Mark did a way better job to prevent any harm than the one who came to 'save' you from that very same man.
"Dude, that's exactly why we cannot fight here!" the variant reprimanded his counterpart while severing the head and limbs from several cyborgs. "Think about your partner's safety! We both only want what's best for them, right?"
"Huh?" The original Mark gave a puzzled look at that statement, the word 'partner' obviously made him think of Eve, but his eyes briefly flickered towards you. "What's that supposed to mea- ah, whatever."
In any other context you would've probably been so embarassed that you wished for the earth to swallow you whole - but this is neither about you, nor was it the time for this kind of talk. And luckily, Mark didn't overthink the variant's words but focused on the truth in them instead, swiftly throwing you over his shoulder to bring you away, so that they could continue their battle without endangering you.
"Let. Me. Go!" You repeatedly punch against Mark's back, horrified to see your newfound friend down below trying to stand his ground against the reanimen. "Tell them to stop! None of this is necessary!"
"Hey, it's me!" Mark tries to soothe you, convinced that you're just overwhelmed by today's events. "The real me, okay? Stop being so irrational!"
"Yeah, I know that, you blockhead!" you blurt out in anger, "And you're one to talk! You let your emotions dictate your actions, as always! I thought Invincible spares the bad guys and tries to talk it out?"
"...not anymore. We all saw today how that way of dealing with villains turns out." Letting you down so far away that you can't even see how the variant is holding up anymore, Mark is about to leave and finish the job when you manage to get a hold of his wrist. "Wait. Listen to me, that Mark is not entirely evil!"
"Are you fucking kidding me?" So not only did you know it was a variant, but now you're also defending him?! "The trauma messed with your head or something. Let Cecil's people pick you up and check on you."
"Seriously, Mark." He finally turned around to take a proper look at you, grinding his teeth as he recognized that naive, caring attitude of yours that always had a positive influence on him in the past. It made his heart swell with both admiration and envy...
...because why the hell were you advocating for a malicious version of himself, especially after throwing away your friendship over something he had no control over?!
"You know this guy one fucking day and suddenly you're on his side?" the hurt in his voice was so tremendous, you felt as if the guilt of it swallowed you whole. "You were supposed to be my friend, and he's the one who participated in making mine and many other's lives a living hell! So why?!"
"...it would be a waste to kill off a potential ally of this strenght, would it not?" Your reasoning got accentuated by the sound of metal and flesh clashing in the background, and you secretly hoped the variant was doing okay. "Maybe he can be rehabilitated."
"God, you sound like Cecil...but even he draws a line at some point. This guy is irredeemable!" Mark ran a hand through his hair, pacing around in circles to clear his head - and yet it was like your role in all this was the one drop that made the pot boil over. "He needs to be stopped! You've seen it yourself, he leveled several cities to the ground and killed a great amount of heroes! Shit, he's caused millions of deaths, do you have any idea what that means?!"
There was nothing to add to this. He was right, about absolutely everything. And yet...
"He-he needed to fullfill his part of the bargain, or Angstrom would've-" A loud bang echoed through the air as Mark's fists met the ground in frustration, effectively cutting you off. "Fuck, do you even hear yourself?! He always had a choice to join the fight on the right side instead of wasting his time chasing after yo-" There was a gleam of epiphany in his eyes that made you a little anxious whether he had picked up on the hints.
"Look, I'm not trying to justify his actions." You pry one of Mark's fists open, intertwining your fingers with his. "But we need him..."
"...we, or you?" That question caught you off guard, but when you wanted to stumble away but Mark pulled you right back. "What he talked about earlier...are we a couple in that other dimension?"
Sometimes you tend to forget that he isn't as dull as he comes across. Damn it.
"I-I-I....it's more complicated than that. I...died in his world." You shouldn't even be arguing about something so pointless right now, and you also don't want to burden him any further, but he keeps prying.
"So what, you want to become the moral support of a mass murderer?" Worded like this it does sound pretty awful. "I know you cut me out of your life, but I still care about you. No way I'm gonna let that happen. It's too dangerous."
Those feelings you harbored over the past decade were like a chain weighting heavy around your heart - but instead of communicating like an adult, you dwelled in self-pity and pushed your friend away. And as crazy as it sounds, over time you convinced yourself there's no way out of this, nothing else awaiting you...
...that was until you met the other Mark, however.
No better timing to free yourself than now, you thought, but Mark connected the dots faster than you were able to confess. "...why did you never say anything?"
"Oh c'mon, you've been doting on Eve since highschool." Mark was not the person to back out of a friendship like this, even if though he didn't reciprocate. If you had told him he'd certainly would've found a way to make this work, since he didn't want to lose you. And yet you didn't want to give the two of you the chance to overcome this, rather choosing to hurt him before you get hurt.
What a stupid, selfish teenager you were back then...
"Now it all makes sense" he speaks to himself, shyly glancing over to you again as he covers his blushing cheeks with his hands. "Fuck, I'm such an idiot..."
"Nonsense, I'm the ass for ruining our friendship over a silly crush." That was the understatement of the year - you were head over heels for this man.
He seems almost melancholic thinking back to all the moments he should've noticed what's going on. All this time wasted going no-contact when you could've worked things out instead...but it takes two to do that, and he's certainly not the one to blame.
Turning his head towards the noise of the ongoing fight, he shakes his head in disbelief. "This is so fucked up..."
"Tell me about it" you chuckle, playfully poking his side in an attempt to lighten the mood, and both of you give each other an appreciative smile. "But we shouldn't make rushed decisions in our current state, right?"
Mark lets out a shuddered sigh, realizing just what kind of hole your absence has tore in his life. But you'll manage to get back to how things were between you. This was a ray of hope cutting through the storm he's been caught into, ever since becoming a superhero.
"God, you have no idea how much I've missed you..."
There's no more time to waste, everything else has to wait until much later. Mark brings you back with him, a safe distance away from where the variant was still battling reanimen that just kept coming. Upon seeing Invincible he raises his guard again, but much to his surprise he's not attacked again, quite the opposite.
"Cecil, stop them!" your Mark exclaims into the comm as he jumps in between the crowd of cyborgs, giving a quick nod of acknowledgement to his other self. "He won't resist if we take him prisoner, right?"
"Sure..." the variant murmured, raising a brow in confusion. But indeed, the mechanical soldiers stop and he gets immobilized by Mark without fighting back. He looks up to you as if seeking your approval, and you quickly rush to their side, scolding Mark for being so harsh with his precautions.
"Are you hurt?" you whisper as the GDA agents transport you back to the Pentagon by helicopter, only the real Mark having flown ahead. You however refused to leave the variant's side, even though you've been strongly advised to go home, at least until the situation was less intense.
"This is nothing..." The Viltrumite huffs in amusement that you were worried about him of all people. He looks down to the shackles around his arms and legs that could never actually hold him, daring to crack a smile which you gladly mirrored. "But thanks that you stood up for me...even though I still don't understand why."
"Because I believe in you, so you better not disappoint me!" you chant, whearing a quiet whimper escape his throat when you put a reassuring hand on his knee. "Everything is gonna be alright, I'm sure of it. We're gonna figure it out...together, okay?"
A few hours later and you were still waiting in a hallway of the GDA, the feeling of suspense only worsened by all the pitying and disgusted looks some of the agents were shooting you. It was understandable, of course, since they probably saw you throwing yourself at the enemy live and in HD.
"I couldn't care less about whatever you two got going on" Cecil explains with his usual stoic manner, "but he refuses to talk and we don't have time for this."
You knew the opportunistic geeze was at least partly bluffing - he's most likely already planning on how to utilize Invincible's affection for you to control him.
Upon entering the prison cell you gasped at the gigantic apparatus containing him, all of his limbs encoated by a metal you didn't recognize in order to keep him from making any move. Honestly, it felt like no matter what they tried, he was only here because he wanted to be. If you told him to break out right now he'd most likely wreck this place in one milisecond.
The variant's defeated features brighten as he recognizes who was paying him a visit, but the initial excitement was soon pushed back by his newfound guilty conscience. He didn't expect to ever see you again, let alone you voluntarily entering the lion's den.
"I'll accept whatever punishment you deem necessary" he rasps, greatly worried at the possibility of them using you against your will. "Just leave them out of this."
Cecil nudged the bridge of his nose, groaning exaggeratedly. It sure isn't easy making objective decisions when you're that emotionally involved with the Grayson family - although he'd never admit the soft spot he had for them.
Not to mention, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to get his hands on one of the two literal strongest men on the planet.
"Well for starters you'll help with rescue and rebuidling" he ultimatively decides, talking to the young man like one would scold an unruly child. "Consider this your last chance. And don't you dare taking a break until this whole planet has recovered from the aftermath of your crimes. I don't want to see you eating, sleeping or even breathing without any supervision. Got it?!"
"Yes, Sir..."
A single gesture of his hand enough to make his underlings free the Viltrumite from his confinements. "Give him a new costume so he doesn't scare the survivors...and insert an ultrasonic implant, just to be sure."
Mark rubbed his sore wrists, baffled with this decision. He had expected nothing less than torture, that they'd experiment until they'd find a way to execute him...but this? Ridiculous. Hardly a punishment.
Not that he's complaining, though.
At long last, you were facing each other again, those brief hours of separation feeling like an eternity apart. Crazy to think you barely even know this man - well, the fact that he was so much like the original Mark may have messed with your perception of time...
...or you were simply going crazy as well, who knows. Anyways, it did not feel wrong. If anything you've never been this happy in years.
The Viltrumite seems conflicted, his muscles occasionally twitching out of the desire to be close to you, to touch and hold you and never let go again. But then he detects the tears of relief in your eyes, misinterpreting them negatively and backing off even further.
Right...he doesn't deserve to be anywhere near you.
"You didn't need to...you shouldn't be here." He faces the ground in shame, blinking back tears of his own as he speaks. "Not after what I did."
"Damn it, Mark..." you half-yell, half-whine as you run straight towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso as if to press all of his broken parts back together. "Just...shut up. I'm capable of making my own decisions, whether you like them or not."
What a strange one you were. He wasn't even sure if his dimension's version of you had been that amazing of a person.
"Can't argue with that..." His hands tentatively finding purchase on your sides, and you instantly feel him melt at the feel of your body against his. "But it seems like we won't be able to meet each other for a while..."
"I can wait..." you shrug, beaming up at him with an almost playful tone. "...as long as you promise to take me on another date, would you? Without robots and death-matching yourself next time, if possible."
Mark smiled.
He did so many times ever since you met of course, but it always seemed like he was mimicking genuine human interaction, as if he was forcing himself to put on a facade in order to make you comfortable.
But this one, right here, right now...it was real, and so, so beautiful.
Hopefully you see more of it in the future.
"Oh, I think after you've seen how far I'd go for you, it's safe to say I can't deny you any wish..."
[Next Part]
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chrollohearttags · 5 months ago
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makeup artist!armin…that is all 🫠
📝: black fem hairstylist!reader, friends to lovers, fluff to smut, praise, he’s also bi, alcohol use, switch!armin, choking, finger sucking, oral (a eating) missionary, cumshot, calls reader babe and my love
🎙️: I’m trying out something a lil’ different and trying to actually make my drabbles short so I hope y’all like it. Also I know like 3 of you might actually see this tonight but posting anyways bc I’m bored
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you never thought you’d see makeup artist!armin ever again..in the flesh at least. It’d been three years since you, him and twenty other attendees of one of the country’s most elite cosmetology schools had graduated as licensed beauticians. A majority of you had gone on to do extraordinary things with your newfound certifications…some working for prestigious salons, others starting their own businesses and continuing ones they were running illegally. But you and Armin? Leagues all on your own! Of course, the same could have been said when you were in school together. Seemingly attached at the hip and matching in both skills and wit. makeup artist!armin was naturally the talk among the class. The only male in a room full of gorgeous girls…chatting and keeping up with the conversations as if he were one of you. Offering advice on boyfriends and husbands, reciting the lyrics to every female rap song that played from the salon floor’s speakers as you all practiced balayage and full sets whilst the instructor watched. makeup artist!armin was a natural..able to analyze a face and turn anyone into the most beautiful version of themselves. Of course, it left much speculation on his orientation but when the question arose, his response was: “I like what I like, that’s all.”
with his fluffy blonde locks, warm blue eyes, scattered tattoos, including the pieces on his neck and hands…fingernails always donned with nail polish and sporting jewelry of some form, he was a dream. But it was him who was enamored with (y/n)..his girl to anyone who asked. Something you always figured to be a lighthearted inside joke, considering the number of empty, flirtatious passes you made at one another. Pretending to kiss, even allowing him to grasp your throat in the process because he’d only follow it up with some effeminate remark before you both broke into a laugh. “Armin moveee, you play too much.” “Babeee, c’mere. You didn’t have a problem last night. Why are you being mean to me?” But makeup artist!armin wasn’t interested in playing games anymore..especially when he saw you all over Instagram, going viral for your amazing work. Laying wigs, coloring, finger waves, silk presses..the works. You were the best of the best and people were dying to get a seat in your chair. Including an influencer with tons of followers and the money to burn, looking to get done up by the city’s finest for a club appearance. What you didn’t expect was the person traipsing behind her to be makeup artist!armin..looking even better than he had before!
“It’s been a while, my love. How are you? I see you look sexy as always.”
Hugging instantly as the excitement over took the both of you. makeup artist!armin couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you styled the influencer’s hair, watching you two laugh and chop it up..joining in on the fun occasionally. Turns out he had been working with some notorious clientele, using his talents to earn quite a pretty penny and make a name for himself in the beauty sector. But the real conversation wasn’t done until after hours…when he’d finish up with your guest and you were closing up shop. The two of you would down some of the leftover shots you had with the client as part of her pregame whilst he decided to give you a complementary beat for old times sake…
talking about life and what it had been like since you left the academy. Divulging in juicy gossip about friends and old peers alike, work and what it was like having your entire catalogue on display for social media. Of course, what makeup artist!armin and yourself truly wanted to know was if there was a special someone around..
“Me? Nah, me and my ex been done. I don’t have time for dating..the money is my only love nowadays.”
“I feel that. All I do is work and go home.”
but he was hoping to change that last sentiment. Dressed in his black button down and slit jeans with silver bands on his fingers..he’d turn your face towards him as the guise of brushing on your highlight
“Y’know I really missed this, (y/n). I’ve been watching you and I’m so proud of what you’ve done. You’ve worked hard.” “Thank you, Armin..you’re always so sweet.” “Well duh, I’ve already told you, you’re my girl..”
makeup artist!armin couldn’t hold back any longer…bridging the gap of space between you two as the bright lights hung overhead. He'd confess that he’d thought about you everyday and wished that the two of you had kept contact. It was as if all of the sexual tension and feelings that the two of you had been harboring were just seconds from spilling over. Which only in turn led to you moving to the back of your salon, lips crashing together and tongues shoved into each other’s mouth as he mounted you onto a nearby countertop. Completely forgetting his masterpiece he’d painted on your face.
“Arminnn..”
“Shhh..it’s okay, babe. I know..you don’t have to tell me. I know you better than anyone.”
a statement that rang true when he’d pull you into a kiss yet again and clutch your throat as he’d done in a joking manner many times before. A movement they elicited a smile from you both.
“You still like that, huh? So nasty..”
“You said it..you know me better than anyone, baby.”
from your lips to your neck, he’d mark you with pecks, licking and nibbling at your ear as he whispered lecherous things; from how good you looked in the bodycon dress you were wearing to how he needed to hold it up while pounding you from the back..
“Mmmm..see, there you go playing wit’ me.”
“Spread your legs for me, baby and you’ll see how much I’m joking..”
leaving you with a heavy pat to the ass as he scooped you into his grasp and parted your thick thighs. Obviously much more fit than he was when you’d last saw him. makeup artist!armin tugged down the top of your dress, exposing your breasts as he planted a hand into your tummy..peeling your panties back with his teeth before diving into that dripping center. Wasting no time in lapping on your clit, gliding a finger or two in and sucking on your folds as if it were his first meal in months. He certainly was no stranger to eating pussy..regardless of everyone’s opinions on his sexuality!
“F-fuckkkk..Arminnn..” Pushing his head and shoulders back whilst still grinding on his mouth.
“I’m sorry, babe. What is it that you want? Because you’re realllly confusing me..do you want me to stop..or should I keep eating this little pussy until you come all over my face?” Laughing as he spat into your entrance and continued lapping. (Y/N)’s legs began to quiver, breath shallow and chest heaving as your eyes rolled back..you’d never felt anything remotely euphoric as this. He knew each of your spots, what made you tick and how to pleasure you. He navigated your body as well as an eyeshadow palette and like always, he wasn’t done until he was satisfied..
“Awww, babyy—don’t cry. I know it feels good but you’re gonna ruin your pretty makeup. Here..suck on my fingers.” That soft yet dominant taking over as he shoved two digits in your mouth. What followed was a trail of saliva and his tongue breaching your puckering lower entrance. Which nearly caused you to shoot through the roof.
“Look at that..now I’m in all your pretty holes, babe..I’ve waited so long to do this. Fuck..you taste amazing.”
you’d whimper and writhe around, grasping at the marble counters as that orgasm neared..he’d push those fingers in and out until splatters of warm juices hit his chin. “Sorry, my love..I hate to stop you but—” unbeknownst, he had been stroking himself through his boxers and was ready to let you get the real thing.
“If you want to come anymore, it’ll be on this dick. I really need to fuck you.” His voice was much deeper than before and you didn’t hesitate to let him inside. Pinning your legs back to the vanity, makeup artist!armin tapped that head and shaft against your folds before gently gliding in, keeping your eyes fixated on each other with his hand still around your neck. That fat cock splitting open your wet folds.
“Shit…your pussy’s so warm, babe. God, why’d you keep this from me?” But you were too in awe to answer..completely stuck on how big he was and how well he wielded it. Slowly stroking and rubbing your clit with the opposite hand. You were fixated on his gaze and sweet words, listening to him to praise you whilst he resided balls deep inside of you.
“Oh my gosh….’s so fucking big. Fucking me so good..” whimpering and barely able to fork coherent sentences. makeup artist!armin would chuckle softly as he watched it slide in and out, the bulge appearing when he sped up. “Damn, babe. I love this look on you…but I love even more how I look inside of you.” Pounding you into the vanity with his lips melded to yours.
“Ahhhh…yes, baby! Right there..’m gonna come.”
“I told you, if you want to, it’s gotta be on me.” makeup artist!armin would continue thrusting until he drew more splashes out of that cunt, making you squirt all over his torso and the countertop. It wasn’t long until he too was reaching his own climatic peak, burrowed over you with his face buried into the crook of your neck as he called out your name..whining about how badly he missed you.
“Oh God I missed you..I missed you so bad. Can I come for you, my love? Please? I’ve been so good..I waited all this time just for you..”
and it was no question that you’d welcome it..waiting patiently as he pulled out of you reluctantly. He’d spray those thick ropes of cum all over your tummy and even catch your face..
makeup artist!armin reveled in his latest and most prized creation yet. Laughing as those fluffy lashes swatted off remnants of his seed..droplets staining the glossy nude lip he’d just finished.
“I need a kiss after that. C’mere..” “Yeah, I agree.”
makeup artist!armin had long since dreamed of what he’d say and do once you guys reconnected. He was nervous, afraid that you’d reject his feelings but it was no longer a secret. That mounting love that had been festering inside of you both had exploded into a blaze of passion that couldn’t be extinguished any time soon. And now that he was back in your life, you’d never be apart again.
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coco-loco-nut · 1 year ago
Text
Gen Z
pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader
summary: everyone seems to forget that Max is 26
a/n: not my favorite, but it’s something i’ve been working on for a while there will be no part two
requests open masterlist
—————
Breaking up with Kelly was extremely difficult for Max to do. Despite not being in love with her anymore, he was very aware of what would happen to P. Max knew it was better to break up than stay just because of P, so he bit the bullet. The next few months were lonely, having to readjust to being alone in Monaco with just his cats.
That’s when you came barreling into his life. Only two years younger than Max, you were a breath of fresh air for him. He really didn’t expect to fall for you, not so quick anyway.
You knew a bit about Formula One, but it was more to the extent that your home hosted a race, some drivers lived in the city, and your hairdresser’s son was a driver. It didn’t phase you when Max told you about his career and fame, you just thought the Dutchman was cute.
“Men who own cats are major green flags,” you told him over text when you first started dating. That might’ve been what really made Max fall for you. You made him feel young, understandably so. He was 19 when he first met Kelly, and she was 28.
Max taught you about the races, you helped him connect with his inner Gen Z. He taught you Dutch and how to game, you taught him slang and pop culture. The two of you were sitting on the couch a month before the Monaco GP, watching Cars of course, when Max asked you to join him at the race.
“Of course, anything for Lightning McQueen,” you squeeze his hand. You knew from TikTok that Charles, your boyfriend’s work husband, was Lightning McQueen, but how could that not be Max.
“Kachow,” Max says causing you to laugh. He has been watching the TikToks and reels you send him, usually something formula one or cars related.
Max is watching Cars 2 with you when he points out each driver in the movie. You store the knowledge in the back of your mind for when you watch classic races and Max explains things to you. You feel sufficiently ready for Monaco.
“Lewis, this is my girlfriend, Y/n,” Max introduces you to the Mercedes driver. You look at him, star stuck.
“I loved you in Cars,” you blurt out, causing Lewis to laugh and Max to hide his face in embarrassment. Max isn’t surprised, but he can’t believe this is how your first interaction is going. Lewis is just happy you aren’t with Max because he is a driver.
“Thank you, how old are you?” Lewis asks, ready to feel old.
“24, two years younger than Maxie,” you smile lovingly at your boyfriend.
“I forgot how young you actually are,” Lewis’s unspoken words hang in the air between him and Max. Now that you are dating someone closer to your own age.
Lewis’s statement seemed to be the general consensus when everyone saw you with him. Max looked and acted like he was 26. He was using slang you taught him, he was making pop culture references that he likely wouldn’t have known otherwise. He was getting to experience his twenty’s like he should have been, not as if he was much older than he was.
Lando was the most excited to meet you, not only were you his age, but you brought out Max’s inner child that Lando never could.
“I’m stealing your girlfriend,” Lando tells Max, wanting to claim you as his best friend.
“No,” Max deadpans.
“What if Lando is my bestie?” you ask Max, who can’t say no to you.
“Then I guess that’s okay,” Max kisses your temple.
“OMG, McLaren is doing another hide and seek video, you two should join,” Lando proposes.
“That actually sounds fun,” Max says, looking at you for confirmation.
“I’m in,” you smile, letting Lando lead the way.
The video is a hit, the fans are loving this version of Max. Max is loving this version of him too, for once he doesn’t feel like he has to grow up faster than he should.
“Stay away from her, she’s no good for you. Act like a grown up,” you overhear Jos tell Max as you come back to the garage from hospitality. You have yet to meet Jos, Max made it very clear that he doesn’t want you near his dad. The memes the two of you send back and forth are a good enough reason why, so you hang back.
“What do you mean? I am. I’m 26, why should I act like I’m 40? I am happier with her than I was with Kelly,” Max argues back, you hold yourself back.
“World Champions are serious, mature. Quit acting like Lando Norris and more like an adult,” Jos is seething.
“Ask Max to come back here, say the team needs him or something,” you as an engineer when you notice Jos getting angrier.
“Then why am I leading by a heavy margin already. You just can’t handle that I am putting myself first. What would you even know about being a champion? You never won a race!” Max yells. The engineer quickly cuts in and leads Max to you.
“You gagged him, baby. Are you okay?” Max hugs you, you just rub his back as he regulates his breathing.
“He’s an opp, for real,” Max mutters into your shoulder, causing you to snort with laughter.
“God, I love you,” you can’t contain the laughter. Max joins in, your smile is infectious.
“I did use it right, no?” Max asks between the laughter.
“You did, I just wasn’t expecting it,” you take a deep breath, calming down.
“No cap?”
“Alright, you are using too much. Where is old man Max, this is freaky,” you take a step back, the smile that remains on your face betrays your words.
“You got me into my gen z era, you get the consequences,” Max pulls you back into him as you groan in annoyance.
“I love you too,” he laughs, peppering your face with kisses.
And when a journalist is brave enough to ask about the shift in Max? He’s always eager to talk about you.
“My girlfriend forced me to watch hours of YouTube compilations about formula one memes. We are always sending different memes to each other, she definitely helps me remember to laugh more,” Max gushes.
“I guess we all forget that you aren’t nearly forty,” the journalist nods. Max answers a few more questions before finding you in his drivers room. He lays down on the couch, his head on your lap.
“What’s on your mind?” you run your hand through Max’s hair.
“Have I changed that much?” he asks, his blue eyes looking up at you.
“I don’t think so, I think you’ve just started being yourself around more people. You are still the same Max that I first met and fell in love with, everyone else is just seeing that Max,” you are confused about the question, but answer him. Max doesn’t reply, he just nuzzles closer to you.
“I like this version of me,” he says into your shirt a few minutes later, you keep playing with his hair.
“I’m glad, but I like every version of you, Max. Even old man Max,” you smile as he sits up.
“Old man? How about I show you how far from true that is,” there is a look in his eye that tells you that you just started something.
“And how will you do that?” you decide to entertain him as he slips his hands under your shirt.
“I don’t think I need to tell you.”
6K notes · View notes
bitteriekitten · 7 days ago
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kisses for the mama.
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synopsis — the l&ds finding out and meeting your baby for the first time.
content — fem!reader, singlemom!reader, fluff, angst, babies, you have a daughter (twin daughters in sylus's) in all fics and she has no set age (i have no concept of how old babies can begin speaking in full sentences and express themselves authentically. so.), mentions and implications of the ff: death, weapons, toxic relationships, toxic baby-daddies, emotional abuse, abandonment, illnesses, hospital visits, and probably so many more that i've overlooked. lmk if i missed anything !!!
featuring — xavier, zayne, rafayel, sylus, & caleb (separate fics)
notes — that poll i made was def interesting... everyone has baby fever huh.. yknow what me too 😔 but IMO writing this in jus one sitting is honestly better than going out and actually getting a baby. this was unproofread bcs i'm tired and in this house we rawdog everything. and yes, the baby names came from katseye members SUE ME their recent single slaps so good idgaf
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Xavier didn't question it when you would be so eager to get home by 6 P.M. everyday. he felt that he was the same exact way, speeding through the work day like he was going to be late for his bed.
but he was surprised to find you waiting near a popular daycare center in linkon. he happened to be passing by the street to get to jeremiah's shop when he noticed you. still in full uniform, you kneeled by the door and waved to someone inside the building with a tired but excited smile.
xavier froze on his spot when a little girl speeds out of the door and into your arms. the girl looked like a smaller version of you, with the addition of small dimples and hair in short pig-tails. she squealed excitedly as you stood up with her in your embrace, her little arms wrapped around your neck, refusing to let go.
it was then the little girl's eyes spotted xavier that he realized he was blatantly staring. before he could move away from you undetected, you had already turned around and locked eyes with your co-worker. two similar-looking faces stared at him, one in shock and one in confusion.
"oh- xavier, hey-" you stammered as the hairs on the back of your neck began to stand.
"hi." xavier replied, unsure of what to say. the little girl's eyes, unblinking, turned to you. at such a young age, she already knew how to raise her eyebrow.
"mama, who that?" she whispered, loud enough for xavier to hear.
you kissed her temple, "a friend from work, my love." you replied simply. much to his surprise, you walked towards xavier, to which the little girl tightened her arms around you in caution.
"xavier, this is lara." you said, running your free hand over her head and back. "my... daughter."
xavier smiled and bent down to meet lara's eyes. "hi, lara," he said. "i'm xavier, i'm your mom's friend from work."
lara stuck out her little arm at him, and it took him a second to realize she wanted to shake his hand. xavier chuckled, but complied anyway, her hand barely wrapping around his finger as he shook it once.
"you fight wanderrrrs like mama?" she asked pointedly.
"yes, i do." xavier replied with a grin.
xavier abandoned all his plans with jeremiah that afternoon, sticking by your side - or really, lara's side. the train ride home was quiet, save for lara's hundreds of questions for xavier, who answered her with utmost sincerity.
xavier learned that lara liked to speak in incomplete sentences and disregarded syllables altogether, creating her own unique vocabulary just because she could. she also liked to cling to your uniform like a tiny koala, but smied at anybody who she thinks would smile back.
in just a matter of minutes, she somehow already had xavier wrapped around her stubby fingers.
"mr. shaver, i wanna hunter-rer like you and mama."
you giggled as lara finally managed to pick up xavier's name, albeit a bit wonkily with her current speaking skill. but xavier didn't mind - he likes it. he loves it.
"yeah? you wanna be big and strong like your mama and i?" he asked.
"mhm. but i don't want boom-boom." lara sighed dramatically. she covered her ears with her tiny palms and quickly took them off, "hurt ears."
xavier didn't miss the way your smile faltered, and how your arms cradled the back of her head. his lips pursed together, his chest tightening at the sight - at the thought of you struggling with a baby under your wing.
"it's okay, my love. you don't have to use boom-boom." you replied, trying to keep your voice leveled. lara, adorably unaware, leaned further into your affection.
"mama sleepy." she declared with a big yawn. you began patting her back comfortingly. "okay, just sleep, love. i'll wake you up when you get home." you said.
lara quickly dozed off with her head smushed against your chest, your heartbeat lulling her to sleep. xavier glanced up at you, eyes softening at your expression.
"are you alright?" he asked cautiously, scooting closer to you on the train seat.
"...yes." you replied after a moment, running a hand over your mouth. "it's just... i wasn't expecting her to say that."
it was clear that there was something underneath your tone, behind the eyes that held only love and protection over your daughter. xavier remained silent, because maybe that's what you needed from him.
"i caught her dad at our old house with my gun." you said quietly. xavier's jaw clenched and his heart skipped a beat, eyes looking over your daughter with alert and distraught. you sighed to yourself and pulled lara impossibly close.
"she was asleep inside her bed, and he just... i dunno, he came home from the bar that night completely drunk. he was right outside her door and i just- i lost it." you whimpered.
xavier did not hesitate to wrap an arm around your shoulder, pulling you and lara into his chest. "you're here now." he told you firmly, finality lacing his voice and spreading onto his hold over the both of you. "he's not here anymore, and i'll make sure of it."
the walk back to the apartment was easier, where lara's laughter resounded the halls of the building as she rode on xavier's shoulders up to your floor. xavier, with his iron grip over your daughter's legs, mimicked the sounds of a rocket ship flying over space as he took her on a galactic adventure.
they walked on before you, with you following behind them with a fond smile and a fond heart.
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Zayne, like any other person, didn't prefer to work late. but it was getting impossible to finish his workload by the end of the work day, so he's been chained to his desk inside his office at ungodly hours.
it was 3 in the morning when he'd gone out of his office to get himself a cup of hot cocoa, when he spotted you by the vending machines. he rushed over to you, surprised to see you at akso hospital at this hour. hearing his hurried footsteps, you turned around just as you picked up your snacks.
your eyes widened as he quickly approached you. "y/n? what're you doing here? are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes poring over your figure, frantically searching for any injuries.
"dr. zayne! uh-" you gulped. zayne's heart pounded - he couldn't find what was wrong. you were in your pajamas, your eyes bleary and hair in disarray, but you didn't seem to be in any pain or discomfort.
"what're you here for? did something happen?"
"i-i'm fine, but..." you cleared your throat, scratching the back of your neck. "um, m-my daughter caught that stomach bug that's been plaguing over the schools this season."
zayne must've heard wrong, "daughter?"
"yes. my daughter, manon." you awkwardly replied, the snacks in your hands crumpling. "she's been vomiting non-stop at home and she just got that fever hours ago - i was just overwhelmed, i didn't know what else to do." you said, your voice becoming watery by the second.
"no, no - you did the right thing by bringing her here." zayne quickly reassured you, pulling you into his arms for a tight embrace. you took a moment to hug him back, your arms wrapping around his waist tightly. you let out a long shaky sigh against his chest as he patted your back gently.
you were the first to pull back from his embrace, wiping away the stray tears that clouded your vision. "w-would you like to meet her?" you asked, "i promised to get her some snacks - she was complaining about the fish you served here."
zayne chuckled, "of course. lead the way."
after a short trip down an empty hallway and into one of the private rooms, zayne watched as you gently woke manon up from her sleep. the little girl, with eyes and smile shaped the same way as her mother's, instantly spotted zayne standing by the doorway. she looked at him in confusion, then back at you, "mama, who's that?" she asked, voice weak.
you smiled at zayne and turned back to your daughter, "that's dr. zayne, love. he's my friend at the hospital."
zayne closed the door behind him and walked over to manon's bed with a small smile. "hello, manon. i'm dr. zayne. how are you feeling?"
"my tummy doesn't hurt anymore." she deadpanned, pointing to her stomach hidden underneath the bedsheets. zayne nodded, "that's impressive. you should eat right now, though - you must be starving."
manon nodded and you moved to give her the snacks you got from the vending machines.
your daughter was dozing off again in a few minutes, thankfully without any other complications. you took the granola bar from her grip and carefully adjusted her head onto her pillow, cleaning off the crumbs from the corner of her lip. you moved to stand by the window with a heavy sigh, zayne following beside you.
for a while, it was silent between the both of you, watching manon sleep without fussing or being in pain for once. zayne awkwardly cleared his throat, "if you don't mind me asking, where is manon's father?"
you smiled, albeit bitterly, "probably high in some casino right now." you replied. zayne's frown deepened as he crossed his arms, "i know - it was stupid. he was an old classmate that i happened to catch at a bar, and one thing led to another..."
you rubbed a hand over your face, "i tried to make it work with that bastard, i really did. but he just left and -" you cut yourself off with a deep sigh. you breathed out slowly, to which zayne stepped closer to you with his arms wrapping around your figure once again.
"it's alright. i'm here now." he whispered into your ear. surrounded by his endless warmth, you crumpled into tears, digging your face into his shoulder as you cried. zayne hummed, looking up onto the white ceiling, willing to do whatever it takes to take away your pain. to take away the suffering you endured to keep manon happy.
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Rafayel was astonished to find out that, even after months of you working for him as his bodyguard, he still had a lot of things to learn about you.
save for instance, the tiny girl standing in front of him in his studio that looks a little too much like you. she had on a bright pink beret on her head and her hands tightly gripped an octopus plushie, the one that he remembered winning for you at the arcade. she shyly smiled up at rafayel, a smile that had him second-guessing himself. was he dreaming, and has finally met his daughter that looked exactly like you?
you stood beside her, your smile mimicking hers. you nudged the girl gently, "say hi, baby." you told her.
"hello, mr. rafayel! i'm megan. i really like your paintings." the girl greeted cheerily and outstretched her arm to rafayel for him to shake. despite how stunned he was, he managed to pull himself together and shook megan's hand.
"hello megan, i appreciate it. why do you look like miss bodyguard?" he deadpanned.
megan's smile dropped and turned into a pout that looked exactly like yours, which ran a bolt of electricity down his spine. she turned to you with confusion, and you chuckled as you bent down to pick her up in your arms.
"rafayel, this is my daughter, megan. i wanted you to meet your biggest fan." you replied. megan smiled once again, "mama is right - i am your biggest fan! i really like your paintings." she said sweetly.
rafayel was frozen solid to the ground, barely able to process what you just told him.
"i'm sorry - daughter? you have a daughter?" he asked incredulously.
"yes, raf - she's right here in front of you." you replied exasperatedly, laughing at his disbelief. "can i show her around the studio? she can't shut up about you at all."
in just a few minutes, rafayel shooed you away from your own daughter, instead making a grand tour of his art studio just for megan. "you stay right there on the couch, and watch TV or something. that's an order." rafayel demanded.
you snorted; it was hard to take him seriously when he just basically snatched megan from your arms into his. but it seemed like you really had no choice in the matter. after making sure your daughter was okay with being left alone with your boss, you complied to his wishes.
it was a sight unlike any other. it was a good thing thomas never shows up at the studio unannounced.
rafayel, for once, was doing what he was supposed to be doing at his art exhibitions - showing off his artistry, explaining his techniques, and poring over the decisions he made in every brushstroke. all while megan, even as she was struggling to comprehend everything, took it all in, absorbing the memory into her brain like a sponge.
"now this, ah..." rafayel grinned widely at the unfinished painting situated on his easel. he bent down to place megan back on the ground and picked up the canvas from the easel. it was a painting of a sunset by a beach where he had spent several nights with you after another one of his spontaneous inspiration trips.
he paused. that trip lasted over three days, and you had traveled over seven hours just to sit and chat with him while he sketched. and to think you did all that while your daughter was probably at home, barely able to check up on her because of the terrible cellphone service at that resort.
looking down at megan, he forced himself to smile, "megan, when your mama's away on a trip - where do you stay?"
the little girl hummed as she hugged the octo-plushie to her chest. "i stay at my dad and step-mama's house, but i don't like it there. it's so messy and loud all the time - and i miss my mama too much." she replied simply, honesty dripping out of her voice.
rafayel bit his lip, indescribable guilt building up in his chest and up to his neck. he reluctantly set the painting back down on his easel and turned to megan with a half-smile. "megan, how about you and your mama come with me to an inspiration trip right now?" he asked.
megan tilted her head. "insporasho- what?"
rafayel chuckled and kneeled down to her height. "we're gonna go to a beach, or an island, or somewhere - and you'll help me pick the colors for my next painting." he told her matter-of-factly, "isn't that great?" he grinned widely when megan's entire face lit up in excitement.
"oh my gosh, really?! i gotta tell mama!" megan shrieked and ran back to where they left you in the living room. rafayel laughed as he followed behind her, hands in his pockets as megan rushed to tell you.
climbing up your lap with great effort, megan repeats rafayel's words through her limited vocabulary. "mr. rafayel wants to go on a beach trip with us, mama! i wanna go! let's go, mama!" she exclaimed.
you grinned at her as you held her in your arms, "of course we can go, baby. as long as it's alright with rafayel." you said.
you glanced up at rafayel, who was smiling fondly at the both of you. he nodded at you and sat down on the couch next to you. "you both deserve it." he muttered, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles gently.
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Sylus had noticed from the beginning just how close you were with the twins, but he never really knew why. the two seemed to hang onto every word you were saying, and they also somehow knew the right thing to do to have you instantly give into their whims. you seemed to be able to communicate with the two in a way that he couldn't.
but sylus just chalked it all up to you being a kid at heart, and the twins were still young and wanted something to do other than be his henchmen 24/7. maybe the twins just liked having somebody else to be with at the base other than their boss or some random business partner.
it was at a linkon mall event that it finally clicked for sylus. you asked him a few days before that you were holding a little dinner party at your place, just because. sylus, though confused, obliged with the invitation, speeding down the streets with luke and kieran in the backseat to get to your apartment building on time.
luke knocked on your door and adjusted his jacket like it was a suit. kieran nudged him and they both burst into giggles. sylus, even more confused, raised an eyebrow at their antics - it was probably a twin thing.
"i'll get it!" two little voices sounded from behind the door. sylus held his breath as the door opened, where two twin girls stood behind it. his heart launched up his throat, staring down at the girls whose faces look a little to familiar.
luke and kieran bore the same shock as their boss, "wh- what?" kieran trailed off.
you emerged from the kitchen in a simple sundress and an apron around your waist. you grinned at your visitors. "oh good, you're here." you said, walking over to the entryway. resting each of your hands on the twin girls, you moved them out of the way for the three men to enter into your apartment. "come on in, you guys."
sylus's brain short-circuited - it finally dawned on him why the twin girls looked familiar. as he and the twins entered your apartment, he took a good look at the girls; they looked exactly like you.
"y/n... what is the meaning of this?" sylus spoke carefully.
you chuckled and crouched down to the girls' height. "these are my daughters, sophia and daniela." you replied simply, as if you were just simply replying to a text on the phone. "sophia, daniela, these are our friends - that's sylus, luke, and kieran."
sophia, the twin who's dressed in pink, smiled widely up at luke and raised her arms, "wook!" she exclaimed happily, to which luke immediately scooped her up in his arms, his face crumpling.
daniela, the shier twin who's dressed in white, hid behind your leg when kieran kneeled down to her height and tried to do the same. kieran, though dejected, clutched at his chest dramatically, muttering about how cute this whole thing was.
"it was about time you got to meet the most important people of my life, you know?" you said with a chuckle.
sylus scoffed again - all the times you and the twins wreaked havoc at the base finally made sense. he walked over to you and pulled you in for a hug, his head dipping down to kiss the top of your head.
"you're the bravest woman i know." he whispered, his voice wavering slightly. you returned his hug gratefully, sighing into his chest.
the dinner went by quite eventfully. sophia laughed at everything luke and kieran did at the dinner table. even sylus joined in on the fun by trying to balance his spoon on his nose, to which it clattered onto the table that sent sophia into a fit of giggles. meanwhile, daniela observed the whole table quietly, cautious at the amount of new people that had entered the little world you built for the three of you.
but the twins made sure to give her just as much attention as they did with sophia, albeit through a reasonable distance. the whole table cheered when daniela finally managed to bring out a little laugh when kieran pretended to be defeated by a spoonful of mashed potato straight into the face.
after dinner, both sets of twins sat in the middle of your living room, your tv playing an old kids movie. luke held daniela in his arms both already half-asleep, while kieran fully laid down on the couch bleary-eyed with sophia already dozing off on his stomach.
you smiled fondly at the sight just as sylus walked up behind you after doing the dishes. he wiped his hands on his pants and snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you close to him.
"when i said you're full of surprises, i didn't think it was this, kitten." he whispered into your ear. you giggled and moved to face him just as he was about to land a kiss onto your ear. "there's a lot you still don't know about me, then." you teased.
"what, that you have other children with dumbasses who don't know what they had?" sylus joked. you threw your head back with a laugh and sylus took this to kiss down your neck and collarbones.
"no - you'll be more surprised that they talk a big game but leave anyway." you replied, and sylus doesn't miss the way you still sound bitter, still angry that you had to do it all alone. he hummed as he nuzzled into your skin.
"surprises or not, i'm here now." he told you firmly. "i'll keep all three of you safe. luke, kieran and i will make sure of it." he promised, hoping the sincerity was present in his eyes and voice.
you landed a kiss onto his shoulder, breathing in his scent, his warmth, his security.
"thank you."
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Caleb was on high alert by the time you sent him an can you help me out with something through the phone. he immediately dialed your number, listening to the other line ring twice before you finally picked up the call.
"what's wrong?" he asked.
"woah, hey - not even a hello, caleb?" you joked.
"you sounded pretty serious over text. is something bothering you?" he asked. you hummed, and caleb briefly wondered if someone was bothering you. it had been a month since he returned after faking his own death, and he swore that he'd make it up to you in any way you allow him to. if it meant getting rid of something that made you uneasy, or someone, he'll do it. no questions asked.
"well, kind of - but not in a way you think." you said.
caleb's eyebrow raised. "explain."
you were silent again, and worry gnawed at caleb's system - "how about you just come over? it's better if i show you than to talk about it." you said instead. before caleb could ask more questions, you cut him off with a "bring snacks!" before hanging up the phone.
in an hour or so, caleb had arrived outside your apartment, carrying an armload of snacks he stopped to get along the way. he knocked on your door, anxiously biting his bottom lip as he waited for you to answer.
when you opened the door, you quickly gestured for him to be quiet just as he was about to nag you. he clamped his mouth shut and gave you one of the bags he had when you gestured for him to give it to you, entering your apartment after you.
"why are we being quiet?" he whispered.
you gestured to your kitchen, where a brightly colored bassinet stood near the sink. "yoonchae's sleeping, and unless you want to go deaf from her crying her eyes out, you don't wanna wake her up." you replied just as quietly.
nothing was registering into caleb's brain - who was yoonchae? why was there a baby in your apartment? "whose baby is that?"
you set down the bag onto your coffee table, hesitating for a moment. you turned to caleb with a sad smile, "mine." you said. "yoonchae's my daughter."
caleb's knees wobbled, as if the news was suddenly weighing him down by his shoulders. he dropped the bags he was holding and sped over to your side, gripping your arms tightly. "y/n, say it isn't true..." he gasped.
you grinned at him, "i'm being serious, caleb."
"oh my god." caleb rubbed his face. he cautiously walked over to the bassinet, his entire heart in his throat. inside the bassinet was indeed a baby, your baby in fact - she looked exactly like you, her mouth pouting in her sleep the same way you do. yoonchae's baby mitten graze against her puffy cheek, and she shifts in her spot for a moment before going back to motionless again.
"pipsqueak..." caleb gasped again.
"i know," you sighed, walking up behind him and wrapping an arm around his waist. "i was supposed to introduce you to her a while back, but you were always busy at the fleet." you muttered.
"h-how? when?" he asked.
moments later, caleb, with his evol, successfully managed to move the bassinet to the living room without waking yoonchae up. he also figured out how to turn on the bassinet's feature where it rocks side to side to keep her soothed while she slept. he sat on the floor facing yoonchae, with you situated between his legs.
"it happened a month after you and grandma passed." you admitted quietly. "i ran into one of my classmates at university, and we ended up talking for more than just 3 hours at a bar. then... well - one thing led to another." you chuckled humorlessly, then sighed, leaning back to caleb's sturdy chest. "people make decisions on a whim when life seems to fall apart around you." you mumbled.
caleb's arms tightened around you, pressing a kiss to your temple, his heart aching. the thought of you barely able to keep yourself alive after he had passed, and then finding out that you were pregnant and about to become a parent on top of that - it punches something in his chest.
"he was helpful when i told him about the pregnancy." you said with a bittersweet smile. "he referred me to the best pediatricians he knew, helped me baby-proof the entire apartment, ordered a bunch of things for my overnight bag for when i go into labor, all that stuff. he made sure he was going to be there for us, for me, up until when yoonchae was the size of a blueberry."
"he left?" caleb asked, struggling to keep his voice leveled. he'd hate to cause a scene and run the risk of waking yoonchae up. and that's not what you needed right now.
"no, no. he-" you cut yourself off with a sharp breath. caleb turned you around in his hold and quickly wiped away the tears brimming in your eyes. "he p-passed away just after we found out the gender."
"oh pips, i'm so sorry." caleb sighed, cradling your head into the crook of his neck.
"we... we got into separate cars because he still had to work after the appointment. and- and a truck basically just bulldozed over him on the highway-" you sobbed into his skin. caleb shushed you gently, stroking your hair out of your face as he wiped away your tears with his thumb. his heart ached further with each soft sniffle you made; things should've been different.
"i did what i could for yoonchae, even if it meant that he wasn't with us anymore." you whispered.
"and i'm proud of you, pipsqueak." caleb said firmly, holding your face in both of his hands, your cheeks smushing together. "i may have not been here for when you were growing yoonchae in your belly, but i'm going to be here for you from now on."
you gave him a watery smile and wrapped your arms around his neck for a tight hug. caleb hugged you back just as fiercely, tears of his own springing up in his eyes. that was a promise, made from deep inside the tendrils of his heart.
after a while caleb pulled back from you and tucked your hair behind your ear with a smile, "did you call me here just so you could have a babysitter?" he teased.
despite the tears and the snot dripping down your face, you laughed. "you caught me..." you mumbled, still giggling.
caleb couldn't even be angry, he couldn't be as he kissed the palm that rested against his cheek.
"i'll be here for the both of you, pipsqueak. no matter what." he whispered.
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taglist 𓂃۶ৎ jus tagging random users <3 hope u enjoy!!!
@zuhaeri @almondtofuus @syxlx @berrryparfait @usertala @c9tnoos @sylusslittlekitten @sylusbigapples @dollyswishingwell @museuranae @multisstuff @atlasbreaks @daddyslittlecrow @dysphxriaii @vesearlee @zephilyr @kunipoka @serendididy @thearynn @qiyukiss @celestialforce @sixeyedgodswife
819 notes · View notes
madamechrissy · 10 days ago
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Losing Control Now
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Pairings: Mobster Gojo x bartender F!reader
Summary: Something about running the Gojo mafia just makes Satoru so bored. Boring, boring boring. Sure, he loves money, he loves women, he loves snorting snowy powder off their bodies. He loves the power that comes from it- but he's just bored. That is, until he stumbles upon you, the brand new bartender that makes him pause, falter, and then soon he becomes obsessed, with knowing you, in every single way. Paying off your mom's debts and working two jobs, you're exhausted, but something about this pretty Mob boy just makes you... excited again. How far in are you, and how far is Satoru in the mafia world? All he knows, is he must have you.
CW: Sexual content, mafia themes, drug themes, violence, obsessed Satoru Gojo, oral sex, possessive Gojo, drug use and drug dealing, lots of hurt/comfort- This part- mentions of blood and violence, mentions of drugs, A TON of fluff, cute ass Satoru being the biggest green flag, fingering, oral (f recieving) shower and car sex, breed kink, multiple rounds - wc - 7.3k
That Gojo art is by michi_ia on X, based on Satoru from Pour it Up
<<<part four - masterlist - playlist- Part six (FINAL)>>> (coming soon)
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Part Five
Your brother was even more clueless and truly less involved than Satoru really knew, Suguru and him interrogated him, but he was so fucked up and scared, it really wasn’t worth it. He knew a bit about the debt with your mother and Mei, but was not reliable. So that left one more person, your mother herself, who Satoru promised to give money to anyway.
This isn’t how he thought the first meeting with your mom would be, waiting at a seedy little truck stop in the middle of town where she said she’d meet him. He hopes you won’t get mad, but you clearly need some better people in your life, and your family is really shitty. Your mom is a starved, drug addicted version of you, bits and pieces he sees where you came from, with dead eyes.
“You’re a Gojo, huh?” She asks then, cigarette in her hand. Gojo glares a bit at it, smirking and trying to hide his disgust.
“In the flesh. And you’re my girlfriend’s mom,” he says it lazily, drawing out the words as he eyes her, tilting his head. “Have a seat.”
She sits across from him in the booth, Satoru swallows down the guilt when he sees your message, asking how his morning is. He smiles at it quickly, texting you back and hoping you’ll understand. You’re too important to him now, he can’t just listen to you, not when you’re getting screwed over by the world and he can actually prevent it from happening.
“Who’d you really get in debt with?” She sputters.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s not Mei, she’s a go between. So, who’d that gambling addiction really fall on?” She sighs now, looking away nervously at the clock ticking along the wall, fidgeting. “I can help you if you tell me.”
“I know all about you, the Gojo family, acting like you’re so much better when you’re the same.” He smirks, raising a thin brow.
“And you think you’re some great person, extorting your daughter, playing on her fucking feelings?”
“You don’t even know all I did raising her!” Her voice is high, agitated, he just calmly smiles.
“That’s your job, her job isn’t to take care of you. Do you even give a fuck about her?”
“No,” her words make him blink a bit. She sees what she’s done, covering it up, clearing her throat. “I mean of course I do.”
“Mmm, you’re very convincing,” he sips his coffee, holding the cup that looks stupidly small in his hands and leaning back in the leather plush of the booth. “I can get your debts knocked down, if you leave her alone for good.”
She blinks then, leaning forward. “How much will you get knocked off?”
“With these fists? I can knock the whole thing out.” He cracks his knuckles, smiling now, and she tenses as she sees the sweet guy in front of her clearly is every bit a Gojo. “You’ll give your house and whatever else you own in your name 0to them, she won’t need it anymore.”
He hopes you’re also okay with that.
“I can do that, but I’ll need some money to run on until I get on my feet.” She pouts and puts on a look, he chuckles then, as if he didn’t already fucking know she’d ask for money.
“The condition is that you never ask her for money again, is that completely understood?” He slides over an envelope, she pauses then, nodding as she eyes the money with big eyes. “And don’t gamble it all the fuck away.”
“I won’t, I promise. I will disappear.” He nods, sipping his coffee again and watching her practically bounce out to her junky little car in the parking lot. He picks up the phone then, calling you.
“Don’t be mad.”
“Satoru, what now?”
“Just… meet me here?”
In about twenty minutes you’re walking in, his coffee is filled with fresh sweet mocha, and he’s already got food ordered for you. You sit right next to him, pressing a kiss on his cheek as he wraps an arm around you. He sighs when he feels you against him, right where you belong, while you hug him closely, and he presses little pecks along your brow.
“Hi baby,” he says then, and you smile, before glaring. “What? Eat.”
“You’re up to something,” you do start nibbling though, sighing, you’re in your pretty work outfit. “I am starving though so I’ll bite.”
“Good, you got a break?”
“I have an hour, Mr. Nanami is pretty cool though if you need more time,” he nods then, at least he doesn’t have to worry about that, not that he wanted you to even work much longer. “What’s up, Satoru, everything okay? Now you look tired, did I rub my dark circles on you?”
“Nah, they’re still there, under that concealer,” you glare again and he grins. “They’re hot, don’t worry.”
“As long as you think so,” you nibble the eggs and hum happily, shutting your eyes for a moment. “Thank you for breakfast.”
“It’s a trashy place but the food is actually amazing, right?” You nod and he smiles as you eat, hoping the food will help your mood before he tells you. “So, like you love me right?”
Your fork clatters to the plate, blushing as you look at him. “I… you… Satoru um I said…”
“Shush, I already know you do.” He touches your thigh with his big hand, right over your stockings, sighing. “I’d do shady things - well shadier than usual - to fuck you in that on your desk.”
“Satoru!” You cover his mouth, wildly looking around at the tired patrons there, and he just chuckles again, kissing your palm and holding your wrist then, long fingers wrapping around it. “You’re insane.”
“I know, another thing you love.”
“Shush.” You shove a bite of pancake into his pretty but big mouth, he laps his lips with his tongue to taste that syrup, and at the moment it’s too perfect.
You want too much, maybe things you’ll never have, things you never thought you could have, after that night in his arms on the boat, you have been dying to see him again. Just a couple days without him hurt physically, he’s pulling you to him like gravity, making you crave him constantly, more and more. You want to be free from this, he’s finally given you that hope, and it’s just scary.
“Maybe I do love you, what would you say about that?” You feed him another bite, and his blue eyes soften, as his hand grips tighter. “That it’s insane, that I barely know you?”
“Move in with me.”
“Wha-!?”
“Yeah, I was gonna say that better…” he rubs the back of his neck, as you’re both in this dinky, dingy dive place, shoving food in each other’s mouths as you confess things that are insane.
“You what now!?” He’s shoving more food in your mouth, nodding as he looks down at you, and you shove another bite in his. “That’s insane.”
“Well, I may have paid your mom off,” he chews and blushes more, bashful at your open mouth in surprise. “And promised your house to Mei, and maybe I’m about to help Sukuna beat the fuck out of the Zenin and wash away the rest of her debt?”
“Satoru - I… what?” You’re blinking at his words just spilling, he has a pretty blush on his cheeks then, as if he’d admitted some cute little embarrassing moment of his life, not a full ass insane proposal. “You saw my mom?”
“Right before you, she was… she’s a bitch.” You can’t help but snort a bit, shaking your head and sipping on the coffee getting cooled by the fans above swirling in circles, barely cooling you down yourself. “To say the least.”
“She is, she’s always been though.”
“Well, I don’t let anyone hurt who I care for, so I’m sorry but I won’t fucking stand for it, okay?” You blink back emotions, torn between thanking him, asking him questions and kissing him - every emotion you can imagine. “I know I’m too involved, I know none of this is your permission. I’m like a red flag.”
“You’re so not a red flag, maybe an intimidating green one.” He smirks again, you cup his face gently, leaning closer to him in the booth, feeling his big hand on the small of your back. “How much did you have to give her?”
“It’s not shit for me, I bought a boat for a date.”
“True… you’re crazy, y’know?” He pouts so cute at you, the man you fell in love with so quickly it still feels like a fucking whirlwind, you’ve hardly had time to process this face.
“Does that mean you won’t move with me? If not, I’ll get you a place and pay for it for you. But the house needs to go, not just for the debt, it needs to be gone for you, it’s a fucking ghost of a house, okay?” His words hit deep, how someone who just met you knows more than anyone touches you deeply.
You’re close to crying at his words, the tears burning your eyes, when he holds you against him, your arm wraps his narrow waist, burying your face against his chest and sighing. “What’d I do to deserve this?”
“Just exist, that’s enough for me,” you lean up and kiss him, igniting the spark that’s always there around him, he exhales as he pulls back, hands gripping your body even tighter. “Is this a yes?”
“What if you hate living with me? What if I snore really bad-”
“You already do.”
“Hey! What if I’m messy?”
“Your place is clean.”
“What if I suck at cooking?”
“I have a chef.”
“Satoru,” he has an answer for it all. “You sure?”
“It’s the best way to always keep you safe - in fact marriage would be preferable, but I didn’t wanna unload all of it today. But living with me, you’ll be protected from anyone who has it out for her, or your brother. He’s also quite a character, ya sure there’s no criminal in you?”
“Maybe a bit,” you tease, he smiles then, as you take a shaky breath, feeling your pulse race from his proximity. “I don’t want you to regret asking me, then I’m a… burden.”
“Sweetheart,” he caresses your cheek, shaking his head. “You could never be a burden to me, okay?”
“Come here.” You kiss him again, pulling back and running your fingers through his silky white locks. “You know no boundaries.”
“I know,” he smiles though, as you kiss him again. “You love that.”
“When do I move in?”
“Shit, yeah?” You nod, and he grins way too big. “What if it’s all a trap, and I never let you go?”
“I don’t want to go anywhere,” your words are genuine, so sweet then, he melts even more for you. “You’ll have to evict my ass.”
“Oh yeah? Gonna pester me?” You nod, making him kiss your nose and chuckle as it scrunches up, feeling so good in his arms it should be more scary.
“All the time. When will this happen?”
“You barely have shit to pack, I’ll help you bring some things over tomorrow. Tonight I have… to deal with things.” His words get quiet, panic sets in as he says it then, you tense at his words and their implications.
“Deal with things?”
“I’ll meet you at the club after, okay?” You frown now, thinking about the danger the boy you literally love could be in. “Don’t worry about me, I’m kind of a badass.”
“You’re just a little cutie.”
“Psh. I’ll show you cute,” he’s scowling and it’s too cute, when he presses another kiss on your lips. “I’ll be okay.”
“I’ll be waiting, then. Probably panicking.”
“You’ll be the first one I see when I’m done, okay?” You nod again, snuggling against him, lost in the little world with him until you know you have to leave.
“Okay I’m going to work, Mr. Fix it.”
He snorts at that, shaking his head. “Unfortunately, people tend to be motivated by money or threats, I happen to have both.”
“Big, Bad Satoru.” You earn a playful little pinch, as he walks you over to your car, kissing you by the driver’s side door, you see the black car waiting on him, your heart hammering as you think again of what he’s getting into. “Don’t fucking get hurt, please.”
“Me? Nah, you worry too much.” He grips your chin between his fingers, kissing you again slowly, you drink him in, on your tip toes in your heels, arms wrapping around his neck.
You’re going to live with Satoru Gojo, that seems absolutely batshit, but you feel more at home in his arms than you ever did in that hollow shell of a place, littered with horrible memories. You ache to stay there, to make him drag you wherever he’s going, to somehow protect him - insane things. You know you’d just get in the way, but you can’t help but ask.
“Is this fight because of me?” He shakes his head, and you get just a little bit of a sense of relief then, the sun is gently bouncing off his silvery locks as they sway just so, and you’re still firmly in his arms.
“The main reason is Sukuna’s girl, and taking down Naoya for her, but he just so happens to be the cause of your debts. So it is a win-win situation, but not only you, there’s so much fucked shit he’s done. He does need to get taken down.” You nod and nervously swallow. “Now you get your pretty self to work, I’ll see you after, I promise I’ll be okay.”
“Okay, I um… I love you.” You whisper, he exhales at that, leaning down and smiling against your lips.
“Of course you do, pookie.”
“Hey!” You smack at his chest as he grins.
“Why wouldn’t you, I’m perfect.”
“Y’know-” he shuts you up with a firm kiss, and you melt once more.
“I do too,” his soft words are husky, he’s so terrified then, to say it for the first time, and for once he’s a little nervous about a fight, because now he really has someone to come back to. Things he’ll tell you in time, but for now kisses, more kisses, until you’re almost going to be late. “See you tonight.”
“See you tonight.” You tear up in the car, but smile and wave behind your tinted windows, watching him bend down and slip into the back of the car. Work goes by meticulously slow, as you think over and over about him, if he’s okay, what he’s doing, while you’re clacking away at your keyboard and smiling at clients.
“Everything okay, Miss?” Nanami asks softly, as you bring him a cup of coffee, you sigh then, shaking your head. He looks at you with concern. “What’s going on?”
“Just in my head, Mr. Nanami. I promise things are getting better though,” he smiles at that, as you give him a smile in return.
“Good, if you need to leave early, please do.”
“No, I’m okay!” Better to keep busy than panic further, your boss nods and continues to work as you sit back at your desk, peering at your phone every few minutes, hoping that the man who’s doing too much for you will not get hurt.
In fact if anyone hurts Satoru you’ll lose it.
*****
Satoru’s knuckles are bloody later that night, he’s punching this man with sharp jab to his chin, he’s roundhouse kicking that one, grabbing one and flipping him the fuck over till he lands right on his head, with a sickening crack. He gets one grabbing his back, arms wrapping his neck, he tosses them in one flip, until they land next to the unconscious man.
He hates this.
He's an insanely talented fighter, it's with ease that his fists move, that his hands work. Years of training for this, but also just natural talent, you don't get to be a Gojo without having it, the skill to knock out an entire room. But Gojo is just exhausted, this isn’t what he wants to be doing, it isn’t where he wants to be. He wants to be with you, near you.
He keeps fighting because that’s what he does, it’s his job really, to protect the families and to take down the ones opposing them, he supposes it’s some noble fucking thing to do, but he can’t help but feel the distaste with it all. He knocks another guy right in the jaw, ducks with ease from another oncoming, as Suguru punches that man and knocks him out cold.
He’s never enjoyed it, where he sees Sukuna and Toji getting quite a thrill from beating up the Zenin, he gets it, he really does, but he doesn’t feel the same. He never really has, in fact even this is going through the motions, just like it was before his eyes danced across a pretty girl at the bar.
This was a good thing, because next in line is the mother fucker helping cause your debt, of course there was much more in play than that, but knowing they’d be beating up Naoya Zenin did indeed give Satoru that rush. Just like he wants to beat the living shit out of Mei, but she’s very connected to the Gojos, so in her case it’s better to just cut her off, take her money.
That one is a slow game.
He has so much prepared to stop them from coming for you, but all he can think is how he just wants to fucking kiss you right now, hold you in his arms another night. While the room is a bloody mess, and Gojo and his boys are winning like it’s nothing despite being outnumbered, your vision dances across his mind, the little confession you think he didn’t hear.
It’s insane to be in love this soon, right? But it’s like Satoru knew when he saw you, it was over for him, and now he just needs to get the world on the same page so you can be by his side. So you can not be so exhausted, so stressed out all of the time and so worn down, he had to try to remember what this was for, for not just you but so many people.
After Naoya is taken down, and Sukuna really sinks in the last of the hits, the warehouse door swings open, the five men and the rest of the members of the Kamo and Gojo mob walk out. It lets in a rush of cool night air, Satoru greedily takes a breath of it, looking up at an oddly clear night for this city. Hoping that you’re not too worried, that you’re okay.
He never had this before, the overwhelming need to come back to someone, to bury his face in your neck and let you hold him, a vulnerability Satoru hasn’t shared, and hasn’t felt in his life. Before you it was going through the motions, now his thoughts are just consumed by you, consumed by how badly he wants you to live a good life, and with him.
 He hears the distant sound of sirens, surely all the noise had made someone call. “Time to get out before the feds come knocking.”
The Zenin mob retreats as well, helping their leader, who can’t even walk, but truly he’s lucky to be fucking alive.
“Coke?” Satoru offers when they get in the limo, shaking a baggie of snowy powder, and Toji pulls out a bottle of liquor from the center of the limo, where the cooler sits.
“Drinks?” He suggests, but Suguru is already lighting up a blunt, smoke filling the limo of the five bruised and grinning men.
“Smoke?” He suggests, Sukuna grins then.
“All of ‘em, fuck it.”
****
Bloody and exhausted, but truly coked up, five men get out of that limo now, walking into the club. The girls there quickly clear out any guests, so that it’s just the staff, helping clean the boys up, but Satoru’s eyes are on you. You’re terrified, he sees it then, full of fear as you run up to him, and wrap your arms around him, the blood from his hand slipping across your skin.
“Satoru, are you okay!?” You’re checking him quickly, hands brushing along a bruise on his perfect cheek, the terror setting in of what Satoru’s career really was, and what it entailed. The fear of losing someone you just got in your life eating at you, making you blink back tears.
“I’m alright, sweets, it’s mostly their blood.” He’s smirking, and you exhale then, when he holds you to him closely, as the men start talking, Satoru’s just holding you against him, you’re trembling as you hold onto him, your heart racing in your chest so quickly you feel it’s going to burst. “I’m okay, shh.”
“You’re not okay.” You pull back, but he just kisses you, dried blood from a cut on his lip busting open, dripping between you. “I need to patch you up.”
“I’m fine, sweets,” he leans low, lips brushing your ear. “Just wanna be inside you right now.”
“Fuck…” you trail off, as everyone is pouring in, cleaning up, but you two really can’t get your hands off each other. He’s walking you back into the bar, lifting your right on it and stepping between your thighs, moaning. “People can see us, crazy.”
“That’s why we won’t fuck yet,” he hums, lost in your scent, lost in the adrenaline and need to possess you, as the men are now gathering to get drinks, looking at the two of you, amused.
Sukuna and his girl are even smirking at you two, Toji is tense, Suguru and Choso are quiet, but the mood is overall good. When you’re all drinking in the bar later, after Satoru at least lets you swipe the blood off his face with a damp paper towel. You and your friend are helping pour the drinks for the boys. It seems like they’re all just exhausted, it’s a little quiet as you’re handing Satoru his favorite drink.
“I lied about it being boring.” Satoru murmurs then, holding your hand carefully across the bar, you frown in concern at that, leaning forward.
“It’s not boring?” You ask quietly, and he shakes his head.
“It’s boring and pointless, and fucking stupid. But, for once, I think we did something, something that actually mattered.” You’re back on his side soon, as he tugs you against him, and the hunger there is far too intense, the desperation in which he kisses you, holds you so close.
“Satoru, why don’t you take her home,” Sukuna suggests with a chuckle. “Before you all just fuck right here.”
Satoru pulls back and grins. “Says you. I don’t wanna know how many surfaces you’ve hit.” He says with a smirk, earning Sukuna’s chuckle.
“We have not hit… many surfaces!?” His girl tries to save face, but no one really believes that. 
“Go fuck, you two need it,” Toji says with a smirk, and you blush, burying your face against Satoru’s chest then. “We’ll be just fine.”
“All right,” you’re going to say bye but Satoru’s picked you up in his arms, you’re gasping at the far too romantic and dramatic gesture, while he holds you close, carrying you out to the big black luxury car purring and ready. You feel the humid night air gently blowing on your skin, and soon you’re sitting on his lap, tears filling your eyes when he’s tilting your chin.
“I was so fucking scared,” you say finally, he frowns, sighing and nodding, tugging you close against him. “So scared, Satoru, you can’t just go fight a mob.”
“I’m a mobster baby.”
“Fuck that, we’ll go like get a ranch or something.” He’s laughing then, shaking his head as he swipes your tears.
“You want me to be a cowboy? In Gucci?”
“Yes!” You don’t laugh, even as he’s teasing you, brushing back your hair with careful fingers and kissing your forehead sweetly.
“It’s my life baby, but with you it seems so much better,” he’s soft when you slip onto his lap now, straddling him, his length pressing insistent against you, as you cup his face, kissing him.
“Satoru,” you’re drowning in him, your pulse racing in your ears, as he pulls back from your lips, sighing and looking at your neck, kissing down it, his hands trailing over your thighs, up to your hips now, everything lighting up for him. “We can… mnh… be pirates.”
“Isn’t that dangerous too?” He teases, breathy words when he nips at your collar bone, your head falls back, hair slipping down across your shoulder, nodding and sinking your teeth into your lip.
“It is but I c-can be with you on the - mnh, ship…”
“You can’t swim.”
 “I’ll learn to swim.” 
You’re playfully nipping on his lip now, but you just earn his grin, a feral grin like when he’d fingered his cum back inside you, making your tummy clench as the hot need starts filling you.
“You want me in a slutty pirate outfit, hmm?” You’re moaning even more at that image, he’s laughing against your skin, teeth brushing it, hot breath tickling you now. “Are you staying the night at your new place?”
“Don’t have clothes…”
“Think I didn’t order some?” You shake your head at him, sighing as you run your fingers down his cheek.
“Did you just know I’d say yes?”
“Had a feeling,” your kisses are more needy now, filling the car with both of your heat, as you’re losing yourself in him even more, every touch sending you, the adrenaline in both of your veins rushing. “Sweetheart…”
“Mnh… yes, I’ll stay,” he’s devouring your mouth now, little smacks of his lips, saliva dripping as you press on him, craving him completely. “You’re still insane though, y’know that?”
“I know… I need you baby,” his hands, painted crimson with blood tug at your top as you grind on him, whining out when it tears. “I'll buy you another.”
“Shh, just fuck me, please,” you're desperate as you whine out those words, he moans and sucks on your neck at the base, while his hand grips a tit and squish it in it’s rough grip, marking it with a dark red handprint. You're whining out now, cunt soaking him over his slacks when he starts tugging at his belt.
“God, I love you,” his husky whisper makes you both pause, as you look into his eyes, and he's got his cock out, hard and leaking precum. Blue eyes in the dark share a myriad of emotions, he swallows nervously, sighing. “I do, I fucking love you.”
“I love you so much, mnh…” Satoru’s got your panties tugged to the side, teeth biting at your nipple as two fingers sink in deep, curling in your already wet cunt.
“Soaked already? F’me, yeah baby?” You nod, whining out at the pressure, your eyes rolling back as his fingers hit just that spot, squelching wetness so sloppy and fucking loud as they fuck into you, your breasts pressed against his face, as you stroke his cock, slowly rubbing his leaky tip in the dark, making him whine out.
“Need you in me,” your words urge him more, he’s fingering you deeper, so deep, as you grind on them, lost in each other. “Satoru, please.”
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he whispers, so sweet even now, pulling those fingers out and sucking your taste off them, groaning as his cheeks hollow, before he swipes it on your lips, and you’re kissing it right off him.
It’s messy and insane, the blood from his busted lip again slipping between your mouths, dripping down your chins, when he slips his tip at your entrance, groaning. “I can take it.”
“You said that last time, hmm? Tiny little cunt,” you’re slowly filled bit by bit as he drags you down further, taking more inch by inch. “Stretching you out, yeah?”
You manage a weak nod, as he eases into you deeper, you feel so full, his tip curving and hitting your spot. You’re gripping his crumpled dress shirt, soaking his length as he presses up deeper, husky moan against your lips, a hand messing up your hair as the other holds your panties to the side, tugging the material and rolling his hips while he brings you down on him.
“Ah!” The way you’re clenching him almost makes him bust then and there, you’re too tight, he’s lost then at how good you fucking feel, your sighs and how you say his name, your tits bouncing in his face as you slowly ride him. “H-haven’t been on top Toru…”
“You’re doing s’good baby, fuck you’re riding me perfect,” his words urge you, as he lifts your hips, and you’re sliding down more and more of his thick, veiny length, wetter and wetter, pulsing around him, already close. “That’s it, cum all you want, fucking use me baby, mmm…”
You’re done for then, you slip him in until he bottoms out, tip drooling on your cervix. You’re looking at him as you do, cupping his face gently and seeing those bruises form, while you roll your hips just so. He’s pressing so deep, stretching out your walls, you feel every fucking vein and ridge on his cock, crying out as he fills you so good, swallowing his pretty moans as you move.
You’re cumming with one more roll of your hips, while the two of you ride in the back of this car, arousal gushing down his slacks, his teeth sink into your neck, leaving his mark and sucking, when he jerks his hips up, smacking even deeper. He’s whispering your name as he fucks up into you now, taking control of the movements, until he’s fucking you from one orgasm into another.
“That’s it, as many times as you want,” he whispers, he’s perfect - so fucking perfect - inside you, around you, everywhere, Satoru is all there is in that moment, blissfully fucking your mind dumb. There’s no thoughts, just desire, love, need for him in every way, as the smacks get louder, and he’s taken all the control beneath you. “Cum again, sweetheart, just for me.”
You can’t help but obey when he’s running his fingers on your clit, you wonder just how fucking wrecked you look, both of you half naked and covered in dried blood all over, the people who made your life a living hell on your skin. It’s desperate and quick, the thrusts harder and harder, his hands now gripping each ass cheek, slamming you down so hard you scream out.
“That’s it, milk my cock, huh sweetheart?” You’re mindlessly grinding in little circles, aftershocks gripping his cock so good, nails pressing into his scalp as your fingers card through it. “Want me to fill you up?”
You’re nodding, choking out a yes as he’s stretching you out so good, your knees pressing into the plush leather as you cling to him, and he’s fucking harder and harder up into your cunt, so wet it’s slipping in easier even as your cunt is struggling to take how full he’s making you. Your tongues are messy as they drip, touching at the tips while his hands press into your skin, and you feel him losing his own control.
“F-fuck, baby…” He’s softly whining out then, looking at you under those snowy lashes, his blue eyes glimmering in the darkness.
“In me, please cum in me - ngh!” He’s done for at your sweet little pleas, fuck he’ll give you anything, when you’re looking at him, gripping him with your perfect cunt, walls just quivering. “Satoru!”
“Fuck…” He’s groaning out your name when his cock starts gushing white hot ropes, you feel the warmth of it then, as she does greedily milk him for more. He’s lost, his cute little whines echoing in your ears, mingling with your heavy breaths, as you two rest your foreheads together.
The rhythm slows, you’re twitching from the aftershocks, trembling in his hold, it’s a blur until he’s got you somewhat right, carrying you into his elevator, you’re still leaking his cum as he’s kissing you deeper, pressing you along the wall. He’s having you get his keys out of his pocket as he refuses to put you down, the two of you kissing even as he stumbles in.
“Shower with me?” He murmurs, eyeing your disarray then and smirking. “I made you a mess hmm baby?”
He shows you just how much of a mess when he’s got you in his bathroom now, and turns you to the mirror. You have streaks of dried blood all over, your top is ruined, bite marks and bruises from his hungry kisses. Your lips are swollen, eyes dilated and fucked up off him as he stands so tall behind you in the mirror, a huge lit mirror in a beautiful, pristine bathroom.
You look at him in the mirror, he’s just as much of a mess as you, when he tugs the rest of your clothes off, slipping them down your body in a whisper, until you’re naked for him. You have little lines from where your bra and panties pressed into your skin, marks of lace that his fingers dart across, moaning as he splays a hand on your tummy now.
“Wanna fuck so many babies into you,” his words are batshit, but you’re arching your back for him, head falling against his chest as you picture it. “Make a whole new Gojo line.”
You can’t take it, the images flitting through your head, you’re turning and stripping him now, running your hands delicately over his chiseled body. You hadn’t even seen him fully naked, the sight of him makes your throat dry, then you get emotional as you see little bruises, cuts and marks marring his perfection.
“I’m okay.” He sees it, the concern, he’s reassuring you when you should reassure him, cupping your face in his big hands now.
“I don’t want you getting hurt, ever,” you’re sniffling now, he sighs, pressing his lips on your head tenderly. “Ever, promise me.”
“I can promise that I’m strong enough to beat the shit out of anyone?”
“Ugh,” you roll your eyes, teary now, he sees them, kissing both of your eyelids as they close. “I know you’re strong but still, please.”
“I won’t let anyone land too many hits, okay?” He’s smirking even now, all boyish charm, but your glare does him in. “All right, no more teasing. Let me start a shower for you.”
Soon you’re inside his enormous tiled shower, he slides those foggy glass doors closed, peering at you carefully, touching the marks he left and moaning softly. “You enjoy that, marking me?”
“Let everyone know you belong to me, yes I do…” he’s pressing on one, sore, making you cry out, as the hot spray starts hitting both of you from overhead, the waterfall shower cascading along his back, as he runs slick hands down your skin. “Mark you everywhere.”
You want it, eager as he kisses you once more, droplets of water falling from his face onto yours, your hands slide up the strong muscles of his back, slick from the water, as he gently brushes your hair back. Soon he’s got you turned, washing your hair for you, fingers massaging your scalp, you’re moaning at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut.
“I could get used to this treatment,” you tease, but he sighs, frowning as he runs the other showerhead over your hair, rinsing the shampoo out in fragrant bubbles that fall down your legs. “It’s lovely.”
“I’ll wash your hair any time, you have been working too hard you know.” he’s conditioning your hair then, hands rubbing your shoulders, your arms, in little circles, thumbs pressing in your sore neck. You sigh in pleasure, head falling forward for more, his fingers hitting every pressure point there is. “You're gonna quit working or what?”
“Satoru, I can’t just quit working. Mnh…” He’s running his hands across your back now, turning you and pressing you against the warmth of the cream colored tiles, your eyes looking up at him, his snowy lashes dripping water droplets, forming pretty spikes that frame his eyes.
“Fine, cut back hours.” You giggle then, nodding.
“That I can do, maybe part time at the office?”
“You can be my assistant, you know.”
“You’d just fuck me all day.” He pouts.
“No, what do you think of me?” He’s kneeling then, kissing your breasts, your tummy, your hands brush back his wet strands, thick and silky against your finger tips as he eyes you. “I would get work done.”
“What work do you do though? Doesn’t… Sukuna do most of your things…”
“I look pretty and hit people. It’s very important, baby.” He’s kissing lower as you whimper now, the sound filling his ears, hot water pounding on both of you when he eyes your pussy, all puffy from him. He touches it with his fingers, watching you squirm now, smiling.
“Sore, mnh!” He’s kissing it now, making you suck in a breath.
“I’ll apologize to her,” he’s talking to your cunt then, pulling a thigh up over his shoulder, lapping his long tongue up your slit then, you’re throbbing and sore, ready again for him. “Sorry, pretty.”
“She forgives you,” he chuckles and laps his tongue up again, you’re rocking your hips against his face, leg shaking as you balance on it, his big hands pinning your hips in place. “Toru!”
“Mmm, you always taste so good, especially after I’ve filled you up,” he’s lapping at the creamy mix of his cum and yours just dripping from your little hole, his nose bumping your clit now. “That’s it, let go, I’ve got you.”
His words are more than just eating you out till you cum, they’re so much more, you’re safe with Satoru, you can breathe, let go for him. He’s slurping you down then, hungry and messy as he fucks his tongue in and out of your hole, the hot steam rising around the two of you. He’s pushing your sensitive cunt over the edge, humming as he sucks your clit in his mouth.
You’re shattering again, only to be lifted up by him, his tip insistently pressing on your sore entrance, all ready and soaked for him again. Your thighs press into his hips as he kisses you, and you taste the mix of his breath, your cunt and his cock all over his pink tongue. He’s shoving his cock deep, bottoming out in one go, you’re screaming hoarsely, weak now, lost in it.
“Mine, stay mine baby, please,” he’s begging you, as if you would think of anything else in the world. You’re nodding as he moans and fucks deeper, ever so slow, savoring every inch as it goes in and out of your heat. “Say it.”
“Yours, Toru, all yours.” He’s kissing you again, so intimate you can hardly breathe, as the steam filters through your nostrils, your mind, cunt stretching once more to accomodate his thickness inside you.
“Gonna put more in you, yeah? You want that?” You nod eagerly, and soon he’s pumped even more cum inside your tummy, you’re already pushing it out with the force of your orgasm, he’s biting you harder, sucking deeper. Leaving marks you don’t even know how you’ll cover up.
Toweling you dry all cute and innocent later, it takes a long time before you even see his even parts of his penthouse - soon you’ll be living here. It seems insane to just move in with a man you barely know, a mobster, but there’s no doubt in your mind of where you want to be. After living in constant fear and exhaustion, you’re now getting hot cocoa made for you, wearing cute little pajamas he bought.
Satoru himself is wearing pajama pants with kittens, it makes you giggle when you see them, you can’t help it. He crosses his arms and tilts his head while you sip your cocoa, sitting at one of the seats at the bar. “What’s so funny, Missy?”
“Just this big bad mobster wearing kitty pjs.”
“Oh yeah, think I’m not still big and bad,” he walks up to you, slipping his fingers across your chin, your hair is all dried from him carefully toweling it, silky from whatever insanely expensive conditioner he got. “Should I show you?”
“Another round?” He’s smirking, cock already straining against his pants. “How!”
“I could fuck you over and over, till you can’t even walk, then you’ll have to take a leave of absence.” You’re giggling but he’s dead serious, tilting your chin up with two fingers, your hand puts down the mug with a little clink. “I’m serious.”
“I cannot take more dick yet, I hurt.”
“Talking shit but can’t take it?”
“I can’t tell if you’re a jerk or sweet at any given moment.” He smiles and you laugh, shaking your head when he tugs you to stand. 
“It’s part of my charm, don’t you think?”
“Maybe…” you tip toe and hug him around his broad chest, bare and soft from the shower, still marked up in ways that scare you. “Are you sure about this, me living with you?”
“I’ve never been more sure than the moment I saw you, that I knew I wanted to take care of you,” his words melt your heart, you’re kissing him again.
It’s dangerous to kiss Satoru Gojo, when he’s rock hard with a huge cock and an insatiable appetite, you barely get a look at his bed before you’re folded in a mating press, you know it’s pretty and comfy from the glimpses you get when he shoves your face against it. When you arch for him, crying out at how sore you are, only making him harder, and making you cum more.
He’s fucking every worry out of your brain like that’s his only job in life, until he’s gotta clean you up again, until those marks are deeper, and you’re truly not sure how you’ll move tomorrow. How you’ll leave this bed, and maybe that is Satoru’s goal, to force some fucking rest and self care on the girl he loves, the one that runs off ramen and red bull.
The one he’ll never let go, in his arms that night, sighing as he tugs you so close to him, stroking a hand down your back soothingly. “You think she’ll leave me alone for good?”
“She won’t know where to find you, but yes. I think I gave her enough to fuck off. And I thought my parents were shitty.”
“Yours still were in their own ways,” you lean up now, chin resting on your hand as you study him. “If we ever… become parents, they shouldn’t be forced into this.”
“I agree,” he swallows nervously, and you blush deeply.
“I’m thinking so forward here.”
“It’s okay, I like that.” He kisses your head, brushing your hair now soothingly, as the exhaustion hits. “I’ll make sure they never have to.”
“I know you would, you’re Satoru Gojo.”
“Amazing huh?”
“Shh.” He’s chuckling as you kiss him, holding you tightly, and you finally rest for once in his strong embrace, feeling everything falling into place.
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This was just supposed to be a little mini series so it will be wrapping up next chapter, it'll be a little epilogue! ty for reading this one, I love writing Toru so damn cute after making him a jerk in my other fics lol
taglist 1 - @thejujvtsupost @moonchu @thikcems @yenayaps @luvmichu @antisocialinlw @sukunadckrider @gojoslefttoenail @genticcs @sukuxna0 @saitamaswifey @monster-effer @gradmacoco @bounie1 @bestelizabeth1 @alygator77 @arabellasolstice @naina326 @1satoruu @satorusaysiloveyou @feliaeae @jkslaugh97 @nerdybouquetofkittens-blog @simp-plague @ladyneisa @distractionforyourthoughts @erintaro @ninikrumbs @yesdere @stargirl-mayaa @wstaley2 @just-lilita @lady-of-blossoms @genshingeeksworld @yaoishipper19 @angryflowerwitch @strawberrysluttt @emochosoluvr @bluebrry05 @trishiepo0 @gina239 @bunheadusa @hazelll-trisk @simperisksksk @jud3thedude @breadsbasket @shhhhhhxoxo125 @gojosoups @starpachinko
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bizarrelovetriangel · 14 days ago
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run away.
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caleb wants to smash but keeps getting interrupted.
mdni. 18+ only. fluff and suggestive but no actual smut.
sylus version / zayne version
Lifting you up on the kitchen's counter table, Caleb slides his hands up to your thighs as he stands between your legs, kissing you with intensity that had you feeling lightheaded, yet you can't find it in you to pull away.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
You jumped at the alarm blaring off the phone in the pocket of your pants. Caleb pulls it out for you and shows you the screen, where the current time is flashing at you mockingly.
"Waaahh — I'm late for work!"
You jumped off the counter table and playfully smacked Caleb's arm that tried to snake around your waist, refusing to let you go.
They're stealing you from him again.
If this keeps happening...
He might just have to take you away and hide you where no one can find you.
Somewhere just the two of you, with no one to get in his way.
"Caleb, this is all your fault!"
He chuckles and rubs the spot you hit. "You're the one who was all handsy while I was making breakfast. Don't blame me for trying to finish what you started."
"Hmph, excuses excuses. I gotta go, bye!"
Caleb laughs again as he waves a hand, watching you almost trip as you rush out of your apartment, slamming the door along the way.
He then sighs as he looks down at the tent in his pants that wasted no time coming alive.
"Guess I'll have to take care of this myself.... again..."
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He tries again later on, same day.
After your work, Caleb is determined to make you feel so good, you won't be able to leave him and your bed the next day.
What better way to seduce you than preparing a nice dinner, then a massage right after?
It was perfect timing too because you came home exhausted after an action-packed day of dealing with Wanderers.
You had small scratches and bruises on certain parts of your body, so Caleb made sure those are taken care of first and foremost.
After dinner and shower, he joined you on your bed to help you apply healing ointments.
He hates seeing you hurt, no matter how tiny and inconsequential the injury is, but he has to keep in mind that this is your job and you're strong and more than capable of dealing with Wanderers, so he doesn't make a big deal out of it. The best thing he can do is support you, so he does his best to look after you.
"What about your head? Are you feeling any headaches? Dizziness? Confusion?"
"Nope! I'm all good, I told you!" you wrapped an arm around his shoulder and pulled his face against your chest to cuddle him. "Let's watch a movie!"
As ecstatic as he was to have his face buried against your chest, Caleb abandoned his initial plan of having sex with you.
You're clearly exhausted. He wants you to rest properly so your body can recover for the next time you have an action-heavy work day. Your well-being is more important.
"Alright, but it's my turn to choose the movie since you chose last time."
"Fine by me~"
Caleb joined you in your bed and happily cuddled with you underneath your blanket while the two of you enjoy an action-comedy film.
At the end of the day, he still got to rest his face on your chest, so Caleb was more than satisfied with his reward.
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You try to keep a straight face as you lock eyes with Caleb.
Or rather, the Colonel.
Two days later after he returned from Linkon, you ended up reuniting with him sooner than expected, in Skyhaven when you got a sudden mission to go to Deepspace Aviation Administration.
A hunter has been requested to test out a new weapon that researchers and the military have been working on, and you volunteered to go when Jenna asked who wanted to take a trip to the floating island.
You were planning to surprise Caleb by going to his house after you're done with the tests, but he's the one that showed up out of the blue, right in front of you.
You were impressed at how unfazed he was when he saw you. The only thing that implied he recognized you is the way his pupils dilated before nonchalantly looking away from you.
With a straight face, Caleb faced the researcher next to you. "I see the Hunters Association have been invited to see the new weapon."
"Yes, sir." The researcher clearly looked nervous under the colonel's intense gaze. "They are the ones that are best suited for it, so we wanted to see how a hunter would perform using it under simulation."
That's where you are right now: in a typical combat training room that can create simulated Wanderers for anyone to practice on. The weapon you're holding is a type of high-tech gun similar to ones that you've seen Caleb used before, such as his Skybreaker.
"And she has been performing extremely well and giving us positive results, so the weapon seems to be a sucess!"
Caleb's left brow twitches. "Enjoyed watching Miss Hunter, did you?"
The researcher shrinks and looks away as his face becomes flustered. "I — uh — "
You grinned and patted the man's shoulder. "I'm glad to be of service! Thanks for inviting me!"
Caleb clears his throat. "Louis, was it?" The researcher nods quickly, as if he's going to be killed if he responds just a second slower. "I'd like to have a word with our guest, privately."
"Y— yes sir!"
You waved at the researcher as he runs out of the training room, almost tripping on his own feet along the way.
Then, you turned to Caleb and gasped with surprise as you found him right in front of you with very little space between your bodies.
"Having fun, Pip-squeak?"
You could feel heat radiating off from his body with the way he's leaning towards you.
And you don't dare to move back.
You're not afraid of the Colonel.
"I am, actually." you grinned. "This weapon is so fun to use!"
At last, his mask melts and you see Caleb's bright eyes and warm smile.
"Of course it's good. I was the one who commissioned it, after all."
"Really?!"
"It's originally meant for the Fleet to use for the pesky Wanderers we encounter on our missions. We've been testing out different energy sources and mechanism for weapons, so that's the one we came up with recently. I guess the Administration wants to let the Hunters Association use it too."
You scoffed and crossed your arms. "And you didn't tell me anything about this new cool weapon you've been building?"
Caleb chuckles at your pout and squishes your cheeks with one hand. "I was going to show you when it's fully done, but some researcher beat me to it. Tell me.... did you enjoy his company?"
The way his voice had gone deeper as he spoke the last few words caused a stir inside you.
"And if I did?"
Caleb's lips lost their amusement as they curled into a tight frown. He adjustes his hand to grip your chin, not enough to hurt but tight enough to prevent you from looking away as he leaned even closer to you.
Your noses touched as your foreheads rested against each other.
"If you did.... I might have to remind you..." his lips brushed against yours. "...whose company you should be enjoying only..." he then devours your mouth with his own.
His other hand found your hips and pulled your lower body against his, sliding a knee between your thighs.
Caleb moans as you tugged on the strands of his hair behind his neck, your hand dragging him down to you to deepen the kiss, which had grew more intense and desperate at every second.
He pressed his hips harder against you, and your core clenches at how hard he'd already gotten.
"Colonel — "
You jumped away from Caleb and picked up the gun that you didn't even know ended up on the floor without making a single noise.
The door was opened and in came a familiar Fleet member: Liam.
Caleb pretends to straighten his tie while you fidget with the weapon, trying to ignore how hot your face is burning.
Liam does a great job at dismissing the tension in the air. He clearly recognized you and he has some sort of idea of your close relationship with Caleb, but he doesn't say a word about it.
"Colonel Caleb, it's time to head out for the meeting."
Caleb nods, his cold mask reappearing. "Let's get going then."
You felt a little disappointed that your time with him has been cut off short yet again.
"Thanks for showing me how to use the weapon, Caleb. Bye."
Caleb's feet became thrice as heavy as he started to leave the training room.
He can't even give you a goodbye kiss or hug. Even if it's Liam, who he trusts more than anyone else in the Fleet, Caleb still can't risk anything.
At least, not yet.
There will come a time when you and him will not have to hold back on expressing your feelings for each other.
That's what keeps him going: to make sure that your shared tomorrows are ensured.
Even if it's not easy.
Still, the smile that you threw his way just as the door closed was enough to get him going for the rest of the day.
But for the rest of the week? Who knows.
Caleb is slowly losing his patience.
He can't take anymore interruptions.
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Due to your hectic schedule, you didn't see Caleb until a week and a half later. The good news is that you'll finally have some time to yourselves as both of you are free for the weekend.
Caleb spontaneously wants to go camping, claiming that it's been a while since you two had done it, so you agreed and began preparations right away.
You started with shopping for tools and clothes, since he already has most of the essential equipment.
Because the location that Caleb has in mind is near a lake, you figured you'd want to go for a swim. Most of the swimsuit you own either shrunk or got lost somewhere, and so decided to buy one after getting the camping necessities.
"This is a little too bright — whaa — Caleb?!"
You screeched as Caleb enters the fitting room.
"What are you doing?!"
"The worker is half-asleep at the counter all the way at the front. She won't mind. You've been in here for so long, I'm worried that you're starting to feel lonely. So here I am, giving you company. You're welcome~"
"Caleb, you dummy." You lightly strike his head with the side of your hand. "At least be useful and tell me what you think of this swimsuit."
"You look great." he answers while sitting onto the bench, right next to your clothes.
"You didn't even look at it properly for three seconds."
"Don't need to."
You pinched his arm. "Be serious!"
"I am being serious." Caleb grins and tugs on your hand to pull you towards him. "You look stunning. Although... you might not wear it for long... " His fingers slowly moves towards the strings of your top. "Because I might get tempted..." his other hand traveled to your left thigh, caressing it softly before planting a kiss on your hipbone.
You bent down to capture his lips with yours, one hand sneaking under his shirt to feel his chest and abs. Caleb sighs against your mouth while his hands moved to your ass, squeezing them before leading you onto his lap.
At that moment, the saleslady's voice blasted from the store's speakers and made you jump.
"Attention to all customers: store closing in 20 minutes."
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Because the trip was pretty much unplanned, you didn't expect the weather to be cool and cloudy. It's not the best, but it's certainly not the worst time to be outdoors, so you two headed out to nature anyways.
"You cheater!"
Caleb laughs at your accusation. "Just because all the fishes want to be caught by me instead of you, doesn't mean I'm pulling any funny tricks."
"Ugh! Yoy just got lucky with that spot! I just chose a bad one, that's all!"
"Even though we're basically right next to each other?"
"There's still a big difference."
Caleb caught a handful of fishes.
You caught one small one, but it's better than nothing.
"I don't need to eat your fishes. The one I caught will be more than enough to keep me full for a whole week!"
When it was time to sit by the campfire and eat dinner, you stubbornly refuse to eat the fishes caught by Caleb.
"No way I'm eating those traitor fishes!"
"Don't say that. You might hurt their feelings."
"They're dead."
"Their ghosts might be floating around us right now and they might be crying because you won't eat the souls they sacrificed just so you won't starve."
"Pfft — alright fine, I'll take some."
Along with the fishes you caught, you also ate the food that you've packed, all cooked by Caleb, so there was no shortage of meals.
Especially not for dessert. You didn't forget about the s'mores.
"I remember the first time we made s'mores. You'd always cry and get mad because you kept burning your marshmallows completely. Then, you'd steal my s'mores."
"Well, I'm a grown woman now." you grinned before stealing the s'mores that was on his stick. "I can make my own s'mores and steal yours."
Caleb dramatically sighs and shakes his head with disappointment. "I don't know why I never learn my lesson. Next time we go camping, I have to keep away from the s'mores monster."
"Heh. You won't be able to run from me." you scooted close so you could rest your head on his arm. "I'll put a leash on you so you can't leave. You're my s'mores maker forever."
Caleb smiles and rests his chin on the top of your head. "You don't need a leash. I'll gladly stay by your side and give you anything you ask for."
Your eyes widened for a moment, sensing the seriousness in his tone; however, you say nothing and shifted even closer to him so that you're embracing his arm.
He held your hand and rubbed his thumb against your knuckles. The two of you stared at the campfire and enjoyed the peaceful sounds of the crackling fire and the nature all around you.
Camping was a great idea.
After such chaotic days in the city, the comforting whispers of nature and Caleb's warmth has already cured your exhausted mind and body.
Caleb closed his eyes, fully appreciating the moment.
At last, there was only you and him. This is how it should be.
He wished time would stop just so that moment could last forever.
No one coming after you and him. No one to separate you. Nothing getting in the way of your happiness.
Just you and him and nothing else.
"Huh...?"
Caleb opens his eyes and looks around with confusion.
He wipes the droplet of water that landed on his nose.
"What was that?"
"What was what?"
Caleb soon got his answer when more droplets of water drizzles down on the two of you.
"Heh???!! It's raining?! Are you serious?!" you cried as the campfire slowly dies down due to the cold water that came to ruin your camping trip. "The weather app didn't say anything about rain!"
Caleb sighs. "Can't be helped. We can't stay here. Come on."
You had to take down the tent that you proudly put up upon your arrival. Caleb caught your frown and smiles, ruffling your hair.
"Don't look so sad. We'll just come back when it's not raining. We can stay much longer and you can have a second-chance at catching fishes."
"Are we going home?" you asked, already feeling disheartened.
You were really looking forward to spending more time with Caleb, away from all the distractions.
You were just starting to feel relaxed, but it looks like luck isn't on your side today.
"We could, if you want." Caleb grins. "Or....."
"Or....?"
Caleb's last minute solution for the interrupted camping trip is...
A hotel.
His plan is to temporarily stay at a hotel at another, smaller city where it isn't raining. Its area still has a peaceful atmosphere and more importantly....
"There's a hot tub?!"
Caleb was just as amazed. "So that's why it was so expensive. Here I was thinking they were scamming us for a simple room just for one night."
"Weeeell, too late to back out now~"
You wasted no time putting on the dried-up swimsuit that you'd used earlier at the lake and enjoyed the outdoor hot bath.
You can't help but sigh happily at the way yoyur body relaxes at the warm water that embraced your figure.
You rested your back against the rim of the medium-sized, circular tub and closed your eyes, taking a moment to appreciate the peaceful atmosphere.
"I'm going to pretend you didn't abandon me so fast just to get to the hot tub."
Caleb joins you a few moments later, in nothing but his swimming shorts.
"Poor Caleb. I hope you didn't get lost on your way here." you gave him a headpat as he stands in front of you.
"Of course not. I'll always find my way back to you." Caleb smiles as he twirls the pendant of his necklace with a finger.
You were not expecting such a sweet comeback to your sarcastic comment, and so you caught off-guard and was unable to come up with a witty reply.
"Y—you..."
Caleb chuckles as you suddenly lowered yourself and hid half of your face underwater.
"So much for camping, right?" he mumbles, looking up at the clear sky with bright stars and the moom beaming down at your figures. "We shouldn't have underestimated the weather."
The truth was, Caleb knew there was a chance of rain but he decided to proceed with the trip anyway because he was feeling desperate to be alone with you.
To run away from everything and everyone.
To be somewhere just the two of you, where no one can take you from him or him from you.
"True, it didn't end the way we planned, but..." you turned aside to face Caleb and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, locking your hands behind his neck, before pulling yourself close to him. "But this is really nice too. I like it here too."
Caleb leans closer to rest his forehead against yours.
"As long as I'm with you, I'd be happy anywhere."
His hands slides to your waist before his thumb draws circles on your skin. "I wish every day can be like this." Caleb whispers.
"Me too."
His lips gently brushes against yours. "The days will come when we won't have to worry about being away from each other. I promise."
He drops featherlight kisses on your lips, each one filled with passion that leaves you wanting more. As the seconds go by, his pecks gradually becomes deeper, lingering longer as if he's hesitant to break away.
Your lips parted and your tongues clash just like the little waves of water all around you, dancing along with the movements of your bodies.
Overcoming to his pent up emotions, Caleb captures your body and gently nudges you against the rim of the hot tub, trapping you between his arms by your sides and his body glued to yours.
As your thighs wrapped around his hips, Caleb's mouth moves down to your neck to leave a trail of mark on your skin, moaning with his eyes closed as your right hand traveled from his chest to his hips.
Your face flushes at the way he sighs as your fingers briefly brushed against the waist band of his shorts.
Caleb slightly thrusts against your body, and your eyes widen at the feeling of his hard cock against your throbbing core. You echoed the gasp that he lets out as he's unable to hold back on humping into you even more.
"Caleb...." your lips brushed against his ear. "I want to feel you more..."
Not a second after your whisper, Caleb twitches inside his shorts, and he resists mumbling out a curse, feeling his body heating up even more.
"Me too."
Caleb flashes you a small smile before kissing you once again, while his hands quickly but carefully work on undoing the ribbons of your swimsuit. The pieces of your clothing easily slides off and you gasp with surprise as you watch them quite literally fly off the hot tub.
"Caleb! Don't use your evol for that!"
He pauses his kisses and laughs shamelessly while getting rid of his clothes.
"Forgive me for getting a little carried away. We've only been interrupted about... a hundred times."
"Not a hundred!"
"A hundred and one." he murmurs, readjusting your bodies just a little so he could rest his chin between your breasts. "For every second we got interrupted.... we have to make up for it."
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writingunderneathawillow · 9 days ago
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everything works out in the end (bucky barnes x reader)
summary: yours and bucky’s relationship is one fight away from being over. at least that’s what it feels like. when he is offered a glimpse of the future, he gets to see you and discovers that not all hope is lost. mcu timeline placement: post thunderbolts* content warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, relationship troubles/anxiety, reckless driving (don’t do it), grumpy!bucky, yearning, fluff, no use of y/n, bucky’s pov, brief thunderbolts and bob appearance, will be edited later, so just ignore any mistakes word count: 2.4k a/n: haven’t written anything good in a month but i guess i’m back :) also the angstier version is coming soon (i hope! I’m feeling a little blue so i choose to cope by making y/n’s life hard)
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Bucky’s chest heaved as he slammed the door behind him. Regret filled him immediately, but he kept walking. Down the corridor, out of your apartment building and onto the street. He stopped for a few seconds to peer up at your window and a cold iron ring settled around his chest. The curtains were drawn but he could have sworn he saw the fabric move. He guessed that you were watching, waiting to see if he would come back. The two of you had been fighting for weeks now. About everything, anything. His work, the risks he was taking, his disagreement with Sam. You weren’t necessarily not on his side, but you kept urging the two of them to talk, to find a way to get along and it was driving him insane. So, you argued. And he yelled back. And you called him an idiot. And he slammed the door. He didn’t feel ready to go back and talk it out with you, so instead he brought his bike to life and drove off, ignoring the speed limit and street signs. The howl of the motor wasn’t loud enough to drown out his thoughts, replaying the argument over and over again, and neither was the grinding of his teeth.  When he arrived at the Watchtower, his jaw hurt from the strain.  He parked the bike and had to physically stop himself from kicking it in frustration. He didn’t want to fight with you; he didn’t want to be angry with you. It was killing him to see the two of you on different standpoints.  The constant arguing was getting to him, settling deep in his stomach and not quite letting go, even after reconciling with you. It was as if you two were stuck in an endless circle of disagreements and then making it up to each other. It ate away at you, too. He saw it. In the way you sighed when he came back after a fight, or in the bags under your eyes after either one of you sleeping on the couch.  A few more hairs in his beard had lost their colour, and when he looked in the mirror, he saw a few more pronounced lines between his eyebrows. Disagreeing with you was threatening to make him look closer to his actual age.  The idea that one day you wouldn’t hear him out anymore, wouldn’t let him apologise or would refuse to say sorry for your own harsh words, haunted the back of his mind. That one day, you might decide to break his heart into a million pieces, for the better of both of you; it lingered. It ate him alive. 
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The elevator dinged chirpily as the doors slid open to reveal Walker, Yelena and Ava sitting together in the common area, sharing a bowl of snacks while watching the news. Well, only really John was watching – Yelena and Ava were stacking chips on his head while he was absolutely absorbed in the military documentary playing on screen. “You’re back!” Alexei’s voice boomed through the room, and despite Bucky’s more than solid form, the Soviet’s Supersoldier clap on his shoulder sent him staggering a few feet forward. Yelena’s head whipped to them and even from the distance, Bucky saw the knowing look on her face.  He hated that he had a tell – and even more so that she knew it – for when he fought with you. John’s attention was momentarily captivated by Bucky’s return and the chips tumbled down onto the couch which elicited a sign from Ava.
“Oh, oh, why the long face?” Alexei asked, as he took in Bucky’s appearance and Yelena chortled.  “Trouble in paradise, again?” She teased while grabbing a chip from Walker’s collar, throwing it in the air and then catching it with her mouth. Bucky grunted some non-committal sound and strode past them, heading for his room. “Come on, you have to tell us all about your troubles. I know much about relationships,” Alexei called after him and Bucky wished he didn’t have supersoldier hearing when he picked up Yelena’s response.
“Which relationship is it that’s troubling you? You and the missus or you and Sam?” “We’re all fine,” he grunted and then disappeared into his room, planning on hiding there until his statement came true.  Not five minutes later, a knock sounded at his door.  “Jesus wept,” Bucky whispered to himself and got up, opening the door with more vigour than necessary.  Bob stood there, an anxious smile on his lips as if he wasn’t sure if his presence was appreciated or not (- it wasn’t). “I know I’m probably the last person you wanna ask about relationship advice-,” he began, and Bucky cut him off. “Yeah, you got that right.” Bob gave him a short apologetic glance but then continued. “All I wanna say is that maybe not all hope is lost,” he insisted but Bucky interrupted him again. “’Cause it isn’t. Never said it was.” “Right, but you look like she ran over your grandma and then danced on her grave, man. Listen, maybe I’m not the best person to go to with problems like this but the last time someone almost broke up with me, I took a nap and then talked it out with hi- them, uh, once I felt calmer.” “We’re not gonna break up,” Bucky grumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  Bob nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m just saying, give it time. Get some sleep. Not that you need it or have to listen to me or whatever. Just… things usually get better when you take a nap.” Bucky stared at him disbelievingly, then sighed.
“Fine, I’ll take a nap,” he mumbled. He probably would have agreed to whatever Bob said in order to make him go away so that he could lick his wounds in peace. Bob’s face lit up slightly and he gave him a quick smile before retreating. Bucky let the door fall shut with a little more force than needed. Still, he found himself wanting to follow the other man’s advice and settled down on his bed reluctantly. He was exhausted, mentally and physically but still he didn’t find peace immediately. Instead, he grabbed his phone, opened the messages app and clicked on your contact info. For a few seconds his finger hovered over the call button. Your contact picture – one that he had taken not too long ago – smiled up at him, tearing at his heartstrings in both longing and wounded pride.  “Goddammit,” he whispered and locked his phone again, discarding of it on his nightstand where one of your necklaces lay as well. Dread washed through him at the sight of it. Bucky still felt too angry to reach out, not wanting to make things worse than they already were with comments thrown out in an emotion induced state.  “Can’t believe Bob’s fucking right,” he murmured and closed his eyes, praying that sleep would come to claim him quickly.
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He woke with his senses on high alert. Something was off and it raised the hair in the back of his neck.  Within milliseconds, he sat up straight in bed, scanning the room. The air was lighter, and sunbeams filtered through the curtains, giving everything a golden glow. Had he slept through the entire night? How the hell did he- wait. Curtains? Bucky practically jumped out of bed, running over to his window.  Now, he was a man with priorities. Functionality, cleanliness and stability. He had a solid bedframe, a tall wardrobe and an organised desk, the only clutter in his room a few books and worn picture frames. Never in his life had he bought curtains. Or a vanity table. That specific piece of furniture adorned the wall opposite of the door, standing there as if it belonged. Two small scratches were carved into the wooden flooring next to it, seemingly proving that someone had tried to rearrange the layout of it without the needed strength. “What the hell?” Bucky murmured to himself as he took in the rest of his room. Pieces of clothing were splayed across a fuzzy chair that he had never seen before in his life. As he picked up one of the shirts, dizziness hit him. It smelled like you.  He swayed on his feet, threatening to stumble back against the wall as panic gripped his chest.  What is going on? He lunged towards the door and would have ripped it open, if the pictures on the wall hadn’t caught his attention. It was a collection of polaroids, hung up in a specific order. Two of them he recognised, even though to his knowledge, they were supposed to be in his wallet.  The furthest one left was the first picture of you two ever taken. Outside the tower, you curled up into his side, shielding your eyes against the sun while holding onto him. His arm wrapped around you and a not quite serious, not quite happy expression plastered across his face. That had been eight months ago, when you had met the team for the first time. Afterwards, Alexei had insisted on taking a polaroid of the two of you (“To make you never forget this great day!”). The other one with which he was familiar, was one he had stood behind the camera for, himself.  It showed you wearing Bucky’s leather jacket, and half of his metal arm was in the frame as well. You had reached out for it, trying to get him into the picture, too, but he had been quicker, snapping the polaroid to only display you, a bright smile and eyes full of love as you had called out to him to join you.  A shiver ran through Bucky as he stared at the other pictures. There were more than twenty, hung up in four neat lines. It was clearly a timeline of your relationship, some posed, others clearly taken in the moment, and his heart dropped as his eyes arrived at the last picture.
His photograph-self was on one knee, holding a velvet box, while you had your hands flung across your mouth, the shock and joy on your face obvious even despite the image’s terrible resolution. Sam stood in the back corner, a proud smile on his face as he looked at whoever had taken the picture.  Bucky’s head was spinning. He must be dreaming. The fight with you had taken over his subconscious and now he was dreaming of a future of you because he didn’t want to lose you.  Like a cartoon character, he pinched his arm. And felt the pain. You can’t feel any pain in your dreams. He knew that. So, he pinched harder. And it hurt.  “What the fuck?” He mumbled, slapping himself once. His cheek stung. He held his breath until he almost passed out. Ok, so not dreaming. Maybe he had rolled out of bed and hit his head real hard, causing him to hallucinate. Or maybe he was dead and this was heaven.  Yeah, that didn’t make sense; he had survived falling hundreds of feet off a train so dropping onto his hardwood floor in his sleep would surely not send him beyond the pearly gates. And then he heard it. Your voice. He would know it anywhere, in life, in death and in whatever messed up situation he found himself in now. The sound ghosted through the closed door like it was beckoning to him, asking him to find his way to you.  His fist closed around the doorknob, pulling it open in a slow trance. The sound of your voice grew louder, and he recognised the song you were singing along to.  Desperation grabbed him. He had to see you. So, he stepped forward, following your voice and it led him to the kitchen of the tower.  Before walking around the corner, Bucky paused. He still didn’t know what was going on. If this was real or if it was some kind of co-dependency induced vision; his mind was theoretically cleared by Shuri but who knew? Maybe he was truly starting to lose it.  As his thoughts spiralled, he didn’t hear the footsteps closing in on him.  You almost bumped into him, eyes wide with shock and then the skin next to them crinkled softly as you smiled at him. “Hi, baby,” you greeted him, “I was just coming to wake you.” You reached out for him, your right hand coming up to his face to brush your knuckles across his cheek. It was such a familiar gesture, one that you had gifted him a million times before. Still, he could have dropped to his knees as you reached out for him. And that’s when he saw it, the ring sparkling on your ring finger. The one, that he had put there – apparently. Or was going to.  He didn’t know how he knew but he did. This was not a dream, not a vision born from injury, insanity or mind control.  This was his future. This was a promise. For once the universe seemed to be on his side, allowing him this brief glimpse, telling him it was going to be alright. Everything would work out. “Hi,” he rasped and leaned into your touch. The second his skin connected with yours, a smile spread across his face. You looked at him with a mix of adoration and concern.  “You feeling okay, baby?” You asked, resting your hand on his forehead. He nodded immediately and like the love drunk fool he was, he would have done anything to prevent you from worrying about him – or anything at all ever again. “Yeah, I just missed you,” he whispered. 
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He woke with a jolt, sitting up as straight as a candle in bed. It was dark in his room. There were no sunlit curtains, no vanity desk and no polaroids on the wall.  He reached for his phone and looked at the time. Barely an hour had passed since he had fallen asleep.  Set on a mission to not spend a second more than necessary without going to you and pleading for your forgiveness, he got to his feet and pocketed his phone.  He was already halfway out the building when he almost sent Bob to the floor with the force of his walk.  “Sorry,” he called out but then stopped himself from stepping into the elevator. He turned to face Bob and pulled him into a hug. “I fucking love you, Bob. You were right. A nap was all it took.”
He left the other man standing there, looking absolutely flabbergasted and slightly flushed.  Bucky pressed the elevator’s button and wondered how many traffic laws he could break on his way to you in order to shorten the amount of time spent apart from you.
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thank you for reading :) gentle reminder that likes are more than appreciated but comments and reblogs make the dream work
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