#(i know it's not really about him but it's still funny that he's a turning point for every one of these connected asks)

[crilbyte]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do an Alastor x reader one-shot inspired by the song 'Don't you dare make me fall in love with you' by Kaden MacKay?

Ooooh my gosh, I love this! This is so cute. I love the idea of an angrily lovesick alastor.

I wasn't sure if you wanted a smutty oneshot or not, so I stopped right before it.

Update! Due to popular demand I've made a Part 2. It's 18+ so be aware!

Everything had been going so well. He'd wormed his way into the hotel, Charlie trusted him, he'd even gotten her to make a deal with him. Everything had been going according to plan. Until YOU showed up.

At first it wasn't so bad. Sure, you were pretty and intelligent and the only one who could make a decent cup of coffee in the whole hotel. Sure you were funny and sweet and the only one he could stand to sit with in the study to read. You were quiet when it called for it and loud when it was okay. That was all.

But then Alastor started noticing when you weren't there instead of just when you were. He began to schedule when he would read by the fire in the study for when he'd know you were there. It was one of these times that made him realize something might be wrong with him.

Alastor went to the study, ready to read silently alongside you as you both usually did at this time only to find you missing. It was then that he heard Charlie and Angels voices from outside in the hall.

“...no, she's just taking it really hard,” Charlie says softly.

“It’s not her fault,” Angel insists. “Girl needs to chill.”

“You know how she is, her reason for being down here is pretty different from most people's.”

“Yeah, I get that an’ all… But it's still *not* her fault. That crazy motherfucker deserved what he got. Fuck him.”

“Still, she’s just like this. She feels responsible for his death, even if he arguably did deserve it.”

“So, now what? Do we just let it play out?” Angel asks, seemingly sincere.

“I… I don't know,” Charlie sighs, exasperated. “I tried to talk to her, but she won't let me into her room. She’s locked herself in. So, yeah I guess…”

*So… you are in her room were you?* Alastor thought, already beginning to fade into shadows. Then that’s where he would go…

He hadn't even fully corporealized before he could hear the quiet sobs. Alastor slowly approaches the lump in the bed, a curled-up you hiding under the covers like a scared child. He sits beside you, a gentle hand on what he assumes is your head.

“My dear, what troubles you so…?” His crackled voice asks.

With a jump, you throw the covers off of your head, not having realized he was there. The look of shock on your face would have been quite amusing if it wasn't layered over red puffy eyes and an even more pallid complexion than you usually had.

“Alastor!” you chirp, quickly looking away and wiping your eyes. “W-what are you doing here? I thought I locked the door.”

“Indeed you did, luckily I am not bound by such trivial things,” Alastor replies proudly.

You give him a slightly irritated look. He’d take it; it was better than crying.

“I overheard that you were inconsolable up here, wouldn't even let Charlie in. That’s typically my cue to step in. So do tell, what can I do for you? My purpose here is to help after all.”

You give him a skeptical look. This wasn't exactly out of character for Alastor, but you know better than to assume that he would ever do anything purely out of the kindness of his heart.

“I'm not making any deals with you, Alastor,” you say, turning away from him and pulling the covers up to your shoulders.

“Who said anything about a deal?” He replies, only inches from your face.

You scream, jumping up to a sitting position. “Hell’s sake, Alastor. I wish you wouldn't do that.”

Alastor didn't reply, instead choosing to tilt his head with a closed-mouth smile.

With a sigh, you seem to give up. You look down at the sheets, your finger tracing an embroidered pattern on the duvet. “It’s about why I'm down here” you finally admit. “It's… just hard. It's the anniversary of when it happened and it's just…”

“Let me see if I've got this straight,” Alastor asks, spinning his cane. “You feel guilty for the sin that brought you here?”

You nod silently.

“And what exactly was that?”

You look up at him, nervously. “Murder…”

Alastor's eyes glint. He would never have guessed. “And what caused you to do such a… heinous crime against God?”

“He was a friend of my brothers. He was trying to blackmail me into… into doing porn for him.”

“So you murdered a man who'd threatened you?”

You nod. “And other girls.”

“Bit of a pimp, then eh?” He grins, sounds like you did the world a favor.”

You’re taken aback by that, you hadn't even considered that. You look down at the bed, little sniffles being the only sound between the two of you. Alastor moves closer, taking your chin in his thumb and first finger, forcing you to look at him.

“Now… I believe I asked you a question,” he chirps out, voice low and ridden with static. “What do you need? Your any desire is mine to fulfill. No deals necessary.”

You just stare up at him, stunned. There had to be a catch, right? Alastor was not *kind*. He didn't do things for no reason. His goal was always to further his own plans. But no matter how much you try, you can't figure out what he could get out of this, besides your trust.

“Come, my dear. Surely there's something, anything I can do to help,” he tries one last time.

The words fall from your mouth before you can stop them. “Stay with me tonight…”

Alastor pulls back slightly, eyes widening, his grin still present, but nervous. “You want me to…stay?” He asks.

You just nod, moving towards him. “Please?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Wait, wait, wait,” Rosie throws her hands up, waving them. “She wanted you to stay the night?”

Alastor takes a sip of his coffee, nodding.

“So how'd she take the rejection?” She asks playfully, raising an eyebrow.

“Whatever do you mean?” Alastor questions, lightly placing his cup back on its saucer.

“Well you didn't sleep with her,” she says with a scoff.

Alastor doesn't respond, instead taking another sip from his cup.

Rosie's eyes grow. “Alastor. You didn't.” Her hand flies up to cover her mouth in shock.

“I did as she asked. I'm not one to go back on a promise.”

“And… so… what was it like?” She asks, genuinely interested now.

He ponders, eyes looking off into the middle distance with thought as his brows pull together. “Warm?”

Rosie chokes on her tea.

“I haven't slept that well in a long time, frankly. It's not something I've ever been interested in before.”

“I'm well aware,” she all but stutters out.

Alastor takes another long sip from his coffee before continuing. “Since then, she’s had me stay with her every night this week. Which is the subject of the advice I came to you for.”

Stunned silence. Rosie can't think of a single word. She had not expected this. Instead, she just nods, motioning for him to continue.

“At least she doesn't snore,” he jokes, his canned radio laughter echoing.

“She doesn't…” Rosie blinks a few times, realization setting in. “Wait, so you didn't…”

“Hmm?” Alastor raises an eyebrow, peering at Rosie over his monocle. “Didn't what, my dear?”

“*Sex* dear,” she says bluntly, smirking.

Alastor's eyes are suddenly as wide as Rosie had ever seen them. With his trademark grin still plastered on his face, it was a pretty comedic expression.

“Oh, no, no,” Alastor says through a laugh once his initial shock wears off. “Absolutely not, no. I have no interest in such things. No, no.”

Rosie's grin grows as she squints at her old friend, analyzing every word, every moment. Something was off, and then it struck her.

“Darlin’, you’re dizzy with her,” she says flatly, sipping her tea.

Her words actually silence him for a moment. She couldn't mean that. She was wrong.

“You must be mistaken,” he says, attempting to brush the comment off while readjusting the silverware on the table.

“Well, let's just think about it for a minute. You like her, right?”

“Indeed. She's intelligent, powerful, and quite the little spitfire when she wants to be,” he admits readily.

“And you like being around her? She doesn't make you uncomfortable?”

“Quite the opposite. She goes out of her way to ensure that I am quite comfortable.”

“Al, I think you love this girl,” she says with a squeak of barely contained excitement.

"No,” he says a little more forcefully than intended. “I do not love her. I *like* her, I will readily admit that. But I do not love her. I don't love anyone. I only find it enjoyable to be around her, and I attempt to do what I can for her to be happy and fulfill this silly desire of hers to accend.”

“And you are willing to brutally murder anyone who gets in the way of that..." She adds.

Alastor makes a point not to acknowledge her statement.

“Oh sweetie, honey, darling,” she coos teasingly, reaching a hand out on the table to him. “That’s how I felt about my dear Franklin. Well, before things grew cold between us and he had that *horrible accident~.*”

Alastor's smile is unwavering, but his eyes give away quite a bit. He was thinking, fighting these suggestions in his head, but he trusted Rosie. She'd never done him wrong before. In fact she had even gone out of her way for him on multiple occasions. If she was saying it, she meant it.

“If any other soul in this realm spoke those words to me…” he trails off, but Rosie understands.

“I might be off the mark,” she admits, throwing her hands up. “But promise me you’ll think about it. After everything that girl has gone through, she deserves at least that much.”

The walk home is far from peaceful. Alastor’s mind is plagued with thoughts of his conversation with Rosie. She was one of the only souls in hell he would ever admit to feeling anything even remotely close to “trust” in. He wants to scoff, wave away such frivolous accusations and move along; but when he tries, something deep in his brain tugs at him. Like a hook stuck in a fish that was too stubborn to be reeled in.

With a heavy sigh, Alastor walks into the hotel. There are more sinners there than usual. The sight lifted his spirits, Charlie would be happy. Though quickly his grin twists to one of chagrin. It happened again. What was this? Surely Rosie wasn't right. He knew himself. He was The Radio Demon, one of the most feared overlords in hell, serial killer, and cannibal. There was no way that he-

Alastor’s eyes lock onto you, standing at the bar, back against the wall, hands up in a defensive position while some… *kreatin* stood in front of you, fist against the wall beside your head, keeping you there. He was suddenly boiling with rage. His grin shifts to a sneer, antlers growing steadily as his legs take him closer to the offending and soon-to-be *deceased* sinner.

“No, I’m sorry, I really don't want any…” he hears your non-confrontational voice and his throat burns.

“Come on,” the man’s gravely voice insists. “What’s one drink? It's on me.”

“I believe the lady said N͇̱͐̿͛́o̷͖̤̺̥͈̲̓̓.̢͙̼͈̝ͫ͊̋ͅ.” Alastor’s voice contorts, his eyes turning to dials as he grows in size.

The man stutters, mumbling out apologies before turning and quickly attempting to escape. Alastor made to follow but feels tiny hands on him, turning harshly to see who dared to stop him, only to see your small form hugging his arm. It was as though you had poured cold water over him. He shrinks back down to size, his grin shifting from its twisted form to a much softer one as he takes in your trembling frame.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He reaches a hand up and pats your head gently and you grip him tighter.

“Thank you, Alastor…Thank you.”

Alastor closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose.

*Fuck*…

The next week was difficult…

It was as if everything was conspiring together to find new and unique ways to piss Alastor off. Between having to restrain himself from tearing to shreds and devouring a new resident at the hotel after he disturbed you with extremely inappropriate remarks one fateful afternoon, and him finding himself genuinely happy at the sight of you when you were telling Charlie about it later… It felt as though his sanity was being used as a yo-yo. But this was not the end of it, or even the worst of it to come.

On one quiet afternoon, Alastor is sitting in the study, reading a book and sipping coffee, relaxing. Or at least, he *had* been relaxing. It was rather difficult to unwind when you are being watched.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alastor can see Charlie peeking in through the doorway. Each time he looks up to welcome her in, she disappears. She even begins just walking past the doorway over and over as though she is trying to work up the courage to go in, only to change her mind at the last second. After about ten minutes of this cat-and-mouse game, Alastor can't take it anymore.

“Are you going to enter, my dear, or are you planning on just staring the entire night?” He asks, not looking up from his book.

“O-oh. Sorry,” Charlie enters sheepishly, walking to sit in a nearby plush chair.

“So what brings you to me this afternoon?” Alastor asks, closing his book and placing it on the little table beside him.

“Um,” she looks down at her hands which are stuck between her thighs. She really did seem quite nervous. “I wanted to ask you for some advice?”

He perks at that. “Of course, my dear. Ask away, I’m always happy to help.”

“It's for a friend of mine.”

Okay, that doesn't narrow anything down, he thinks.

“A mutual friend of ours,” she continues.

And that narrows it down considerably. So she is talking about you, Alastor decides.

“Yes, and what problem does our friend have.

“Okay, so… There’s this guy…”

It was as though a hole opened in his chest. Three little words. Why had they affected him so strongly? He needed to quash this ridiculous and frivolous emotion.

“And you came to me?” He asks, examining his claws. “My dear, I'm hardly the sentimental type.”

“Well, he’s uh, a lot like you. Old fashioned, proper.” She looks so nervous to be asking him this, her face is red, which was quite noticeable with her pale complexion. “She… she *really* likes him, but she doesn't know how to tell him. So I hoped maybe you could help me give her some advice…?”

Alastor wants nothing more than to ask this man’s name and hunt him down.

The thought causes him to pause. What a strange intrusive thought. He attempts to shake it off, turning his attention back to Charlie.

“Well,” he begins. “That isn't much to go on.” Alastor crosses his legs, it feels as though he was trying to tie himself into a knot. What an annoying feeling.

“Ok, so… he’s smart and generous um…” Charlie bites her lip, “Funny?”

Alastor remains silent, this isn't very useful information.

“Is he a sinner, dear?” he inquires.

Charlie perks at that. “Oh, yes actually.”

He has to suppress a growl. *So it was some lowly human then,* He thinks as though he in't the same. He attempts some deduction. A sinner who identifies as male. Old-fashioned. Proper… That likely ruled out the recently deceased. Apparently “smart” and “funny”. Though Alastor mused he couldn’t be *that” smart to have ended up on his shit-list. He was beginning to compile a list of suspects. Just as he was about to ask another probing question, there came a voice from the door.

“Hey, Charlie, there’s some new girl here who swears that you told her she could have a room with a jacuzzi?” Angel says incredulously. “Bitch, if we have rooms with jacuzzis why the *fuck* am I staying in a traditional fucking suite?”

“Oh, uh, I think she may have misunderstood,” Charlie begins before turning to Alastor. “Sorry, I think I’ll have to deal with this personally… Thanks for listening, but, honestly… you can forget it. It’s not that important anyway.”

With that, she stands and leaves, though through the doorway Alastor can swear he saw Angel playfully elbow her ribs, though he couldn't begin to guess what that was about.

A sinner who was smart, generous, and funny. This was sounding less and less like someone who would have ended up in hell. He would do more reconnaissance later. For now, he wanted to prepare for his radio show tomorrow, hoping it could take his mind off this itching feeling in the back of his head.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It's quiet in Alastor’s room. The only sounds coming from the ticking of his grandfather clock and the quiet sounds of jazz from his gramophone. It had been a rough day, well… a rough fewI days. But this afternoon seemed to be going more his way, he thought. At least until he hears a knock at his door.

Alastor sighs, letting his head fall over the back of his chair. Who could it possibly be at this hour? After so much inner turmoil, he had very much wished to just relax in his room. It seemed as though even that was asking too much. Alastor steadies himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, and stands. He opens the door only to be surprised. Outside stood a very nervous looking Charlie. With a quirk of his brow; Alastor's grin grows.

“And what, may I ask, brings you to my humble abode at such a late hour?” He asks.

“Well,” she begins with a twitchy look in her eye. “Tomorrow we're doing a sort of graduation party,” she begins to explain how she has a surprise party planned for you, that your progress was so much faster than she could have ever assumed and so she wanted to throw you a party before you disappeared up to heaven.

Each new word from her mouth felt like another weight added to the chain that threatened to drag Alastor down into some deeper pit of hell itself.

“You think she'll be heavenbound soon?” He asks, his mouth dry.

“Yes!” She replies cheerfully. “The rain she was down here to begin with was pretty shakey, anyway. To be honest, I'm surprised it's taken this long.”

“You'll have to excuse me, my dear, but I've just remembered I have something very important to take care of,” Alastor says with a harsh smile.

“But I haven't even asked what I came here to-” Charlie attempts to finish, but is cut off as the door closes in her face.

With a determination he hadn't felt in a long time, Alastor turns and I'm stalks towards his table, picking up his book and returning it to its shelf before dissolving into Shadow. He doesn't reappear outside your door, or even attempt to knock. Instead he apparates directly into your room. Luckily you were looking in the direction his shape takes form in so you're not quite as startled by his sudden appearance, even if it does shake you slightly, seeing as how you're in bed and in your nightgown.

“Alastor?” You ask as he solidifies and steps towards you.

"Darling," He whispers, a small smirk on his face at your state of undress. "I'm here to make a deal…”

"a deal...? with me?" You ask, curious.

"Yes, my dear," He murmurs, his tone turning serious. "Charlie has informed me that your ascension is nearing. I have come to persuade you to… make a different choice.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. "Oh... she said that?" You ask. "And why... is that?"

Alastor takes a step closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Because, I'd be... lonely, without you here. I've grown fond of your quiet presence, and I don't like the thought of going back to solitude.”

You tilt your head. "But you have Charlie, aren't you and her quite close?"

Alastor pauses for a moment at your question, his eyes narrowing slightly. He never thought you would question his reasoning.

"She... it isn't the same," He growls. "I want you, here... always, keeping me... sane." A hint of sadness crosses his face, but it's quickly replaced by a smirk. "Charlie and I have... similar goals. But we are not close. She doesn't need me the way you do... and she certainly doesn't have... my tastes" He says, taking another step towards you.

You give up on this line of questioning and instead start a new one.

"So you want to make a deal for my soul?" you ask. "You get my soul and in return I can have... anything I want?”

Alastor smiles again, but more genuinely this time. "Yes... that's what I'm proposing. Your soul, in exchange for anything your heart desires." He says with a grin, sitting down on your bed and holding out a hand towards you. "Do we have a deal?”

You feel the static in the air, the sound seeming to fill your ears like a flood as he leans towards you. You watch as his antlers slowly grow and green scratch marks appear in the air, forming into unfamiliar symbols that flash in and out. You look down at his hand, your gaze steeling before you tentatively reach out, but then pause. Just as he thinks you might pull back, you do the opposite, confidently gripping his hand and looking at him with a determined glint in your eyes.

"Deal.”

Alastor chuckles low as you accept his hand and the deal. The static intensifies as he grips your hand back, pulling you closer to him. The symbols in the air flare brightly for a moment before they vanish, leaving a faint glow that's slow to fade. You watch as the green stitching appears in his lips, a gold contract and a quill appearing between you.

You take the pen and sign your name without hesitation. The moment the last letter is written, a flash of green light fills the room and you feel a heavy weight settle around your neck as a neon green collar appears there. The chain attached to it leading to Alastor's still outstretched hand.

Alastor chuckles again as the collar settles around your neck, tugging on it playfully. He brings his free hand up to trace a finger along the chain, watching it with interest before he looks back at you.

"The weight of your decision…” he says. You watch his finger as it slides down the chain, your body leaning towards him. Alastor's finger hooks into the collar, pulling a little harder, causing your body to lean closer to him still. "...is now physically upon you," he finishes, a dark glint in his eyes as he studies you. He leans in close, whispering seductively, "And what could you possibly want so badly you'd be willing to trade your soul for it without a second thought?”

"If I tell you, you can't go back on it right?" You ask, your eyes boring into his. "Just like I can't go back on the deal, you can't either, correct?”

Alastor smirks, a wicked and sinister expression taking over his features. "That's right," he confirms, running his thumb along the collar before letting it fall from his fingers. "Once you've signed the contract, there's no going back. So go ahead. Tell me what is it that could tempt you so drastically. What did you desire?”

You're silent a moment, just staring at him, still leaned in close, before a single word falls from your lips.

"You…”

Alastor tilts his head slightly, processing your word as you stare at each other for a tense, long moment. Slowly, his lips curl into a small smirk.

"You desire me?" He repeats, an almost mocking tone in his voice, but his eyes tell a different story.

You nod, silently moving forward towards him, closing the distance between you. Alastor watches as you crawl across the bed towards him. Something flashes in his expression, but it's gone just as quick as it came. He moves his hand from your collar to the small of your back, pulling you gently closer by slowly reeling you in. Closer, until your body is almost flush with his, able to feel the rise and fall of his chest under his suit jacket, his lips a breath away from yours. You look up at him, blinking rapidly, mouth slightly open.

"Yes," you say in almost a whisper. "What I desire most... is you…”

Alastor closes his eyes, your words causing a visible shiver to run through him. He's quiet for a moment, just simply holding you close before he takes in a deep breath and finally crashes his lips against yours, a low moan rumbling in his chest. You gasp into the kiss, moaning. Alastor takes the chance to slip his tongue between your lips, tangling with yours as he pulls you closer against him. His hands move from your waist and up your back, pulling you impossibly close as he devours your mouth hungrily.

A groan escapes him as he can feel your tongue fighting his own for dominance. He finds he likes the challenge. Alastor chuckles against your lips, breaking the kiss for just a moment before diving back in, hands slipping up under your shirt to rest against the warmth of your skin. He matches your fight for dominance with his own, a growl rumbling through his chest as you continue.

Tonight, Alastor would claim full ownership of you...

[smuttysweets]

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ୨୧ ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Creampie ࣪ ˖ ⊹

🍰🍦 ꒱ Katsuki Bakugou x 🍡! Reader ꒱

꒱ smut, mdni, female reader, very sloppy kissing, fingiring, hair pulling, breeding kink

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

⟢ ( a/n : In this you replace Satou and your quirk is basically his but more powerful instead of just super strength )

⟢ You have always had a sweet tooth. Your family, ourselves family friends, and of course, Katsuki knew. So when your boyfriend offers to bake something with you, you immediately drag him to your kitchen.

⟢ “So, whatcha ‘anna make?” Katsuki ask as he watches you get the needed ingredients and utensils. I was kinda thinking of making a pie but I don’t really know what kind of pie I want to make!” You open a specific drawer and pull out a huge baking and cooking book.

⟢ “So many to choose from!” Katsuki admires you as you flip to a page labeled “pies”. Your finger scrolls over the different types of pies on the page. “How about a cream pie! Maybe? Maybe not?” Bakugou zones out. cream pie. cream pie? Oh! creampie! Katsuki slightly blushes but it’s unnoticeable.

⟢ “Katsu-“ “Hmph.. A cream pie is fine.” He cuts you off as he turns to the refrigerator now getting specific ingredients for the pie. You didn’t exactly have the cleanest mind so hearing him say ‘cream pie’ is kinda funny.

⟢ “Yay! Okay! I wanted to make this specific type of cream pie! I was kinda thinking off making something with chocolate, cause I know you like chocolate!..” You kinda shy away when you say that. He grins and slightly blushes. But it disappears just as fast as it came. “Alright, let me see that cook book.”

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈┈ MINORS DNI ┈┈┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

- time goes by !

⟢ You slowly place the pie into the oven with a sigh. “Well now we just have to wait!” Bakugou watches you, quietly, as you put all the ingredients away and put all the dirty dishes in the sink. “Hm! Is something wrong Baku?” He isn’t even looking at you. His face, still and emotionless.

⟢ “Katsuki-“ you yelp as he unexpectedly grips your waist and pulls you close to him. “I know the cream pie is in the oven but.. I wanna make a creampie out of you..” He says calmly in your ear. From your neck to your forehead you feel your body start to warm up as you blush harder and harder in the span of seconds. “K-Katsuki! I—“ he cuts you off with a passionate kiss. His hand on the back of your head, pulling you into him.

⟢ You close your eyes slowly in plea. You kiss harder as he does the same. Your tongues enter each others mouth. Bakugou can still taste the sweet access of the chocolaty used ingredients. Bakugou gets rougher with his movements, pushing you onto the counter behind you. You both moan as spit starts to slowly fall down both of your chins.

⟢ Your lips and Katsuki’s depart with a lustfull pop, a string of saliva still keeping your lips connected in a way. “Hands. On the counter. Now..” His demanding tone made between your legs even hotter. You immediately move to his wanted position. As fastest as you moved he moves his thick fingers to your clothed clit as his free hand lifts up your skirt.

⟢ “Lets start with some foreplay baby..” You let out a soft moan due too his movement, causing Katsuki’s cock to twitch in his pants. As soon as he lays your skirt in a position so it stays up, he lets his big erection free with a groan. He pulls your panties to the side and starts rubbing your clit. “Ba-Baku! Pl—“ “Thats not my name..” You breath hitched as you hears his surprisingly seductive voice— you and katsuki haven’t had much sexy time so this is your first time hearing it — “What’s my name?” He teases a finger to your entrance making you squirm and moan. “K-Katsuki! Please! Please put your fingers inside of me!” You her him slightly chuckle. “Good girl.” He slides in two of his thick fingers into you which make your legs shake uncontrollably. You’ve never felt something like this before.

⟢ “Ahh!~ Katsuki! Mmmh~” He forces them in and out roughly. Katsuki sticks out his tongue and pants like a dog. His hot breath hitting your pussy every time he exhales. You feel a quick sharp pain on your already shaking thigh as Katsuki slaps your left thigh with his free hand. “Ah!! Katsuu..” you whine l. “Your legs are shaking so much.. It’s so good to know that I’m the one making you feel good right now..” You look back at your hot boyfriend. Katsuki is such a mess under you. You see how hard his cock is and you clench around his fingers, forcing his movements to slow down.

⟢ “Fuck.. you’re clenching so hard around me!—“ “Katsuki!” Bakugou looks up at you wide eye. He sees your flushed and embarrassed face with a quivering bottom lip. “May you please! Put your cock inside of me..” You see his cock twitch in your peripheral vision. He immediately stands up, grabs his cock with one hand and grabs a handful of your (H/C) hair and forces you onto the tip of his cock, making you squeal and moan. “You ready for me, doll face?”— he knows how much you love ‘doll face’— “Y-yes.. I’m ready!” Katsuki, with a grin. grips your waist and pulls you onto him, inserting his cock in the process with a groan. “F—fuck! A-all the way— inside—“ You’ve never ever heard him.. Shit.. you’ve never heard your self sound like this..”

⟢ He exits almost all the way and slams back into your cunt with a raspy moan. He starts doing this repeatedly, hitting your g spot every time he enters your cunt. At this point he’s pushing your head into the counter as he scrambles your thoughts away. “K-Kah! Katsukii!~” Your tongue sticks out in pleasure. “You feel so good— beneath me.. Fuckk.. I can’t wait to cum inside of you!~” You feel him let go of your hair and makes his way down to your clit. “Ahh! Katsuki!” you yelp. “I want you.. to cum with me…” He whispers as he rest his head on your shoulder. His hot breath hitting your ear. He starts rubbing your clit viciously making you squeal and moan. “Katsukii! I’m getting so closeee~” “Then cum on one.. Five.. Four… Th-three..” You start to feel him twitch as he gets closer and closer.

⟢ “Twoo.. One! Fuck! Cum! Cum! Cum! Pl-pleasee! Cum with me!~” You feel him fill up your cunt with his warm milk. It fills you to the brim. Making your eyes roll back, babbling nonsense. “Kah! Kah..suki..” “Fuck.. I didn’t mean to break you.” He stands up straight with a grin. Sliding out of your quivering pussy, admiring the mess he made out of you. “You look so good..” ring! “The pie must be done. Here.” He picks you up and sits you onto the counter. You pussy hanging off of the counter clenching everything inside. “Sit here while I take out the pie..” You watch him zip up his pants and get hold of the oven mittens. You, still panting and flushed, blink multiple times so you don’t loose consciousness due to the pleasure you were feeling. He takes out the pie and removed the arm mittens. “Alright. Lets go get you cleaned up.” You yelp as he picks you up and put you over his shoulder. You giggle. “Katsukii~”

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶︶︶‧₊˚⊹

[moonydustx]

Law buying an Bepo bear to his shy girlfriend!

I loved the idea! I made a small adjustment on the "buy" issue, I hope you don't hate me for it. And of course, I hope you like it.

The Bear and The Target

Lawx F!Reader

warnings: fluff, F!Reader is a little more shy/reserved in this one, Law is a great boyfriend (as always)

a/n: I really loved this idea, Law doing cute things for his s/o is my weakness.

requests here | rules and guides | masterlist

Comments, reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated.

The Park's lights almost blinded you, as well as people pushing against each other, competing to get to the most sought-after attractions first. Despite having your arm side by side with your boyfriend and watching him dodge the countless proposals of "try this game and win thousands of berris" "bet and compete for the top prize", you were still dazzled by how magical the place seemed. .

"Are the two annoying people going to be a couple for the whole park?" Penguin appeared at your side, taking your arm and watching Law sulk. "Captain, don't be annoying."

"Unfortunately, I'm here for work" he pointed out, turning his gaze towards you. "But you do not."

"And I can't go to work with you?" you asked

"It's not really a job, I just need to figure something out." he tried to dodge the question, not wanting to give too many details. "In the meantime, why don't you enjoy a little night with them?"

"We can go on the roller coaster and then go to the monster house."

"No monster house." you and Bepo responded in unison, both of you clearly unhappy with the proposal. "Can we go in the bumper cars?" Bepo proposed and saw you nod.

"See you later then?" you turned to your boyfriend, who just nodded and watched as you and the group of friends left.

As much as Law was against lying in any situation in a relationship, he had just lied to you and it wasn't one of the things he was most proud of, but he had a good reason.

A few months ago, on another island, he had seen you looking at a huge teddy bear and not buying it. It took a few days for the subject to come up and he asked you why you didn't ask and again, shyness was an excuse.

Law was a reserved person, by pure choice - and almost as a personal whim. However, you were indeed shy. The only people who could break your shell a little were your crewmates and even Law had had trouble starting to flirt with you, not being able to know if he was understanding the few signals you gave in the wrong way.

For that reason - and because his eyes almost exploded when he saw you do or have something cute - he knew that that park was the best place to find what he was looking for so much, that cute and huge bear.

He just didn't expect to find exorbitant prices or bears uglier than any patch he had ever heard of, it was impossible to find something perfect.

In the distance, he could see you and the other crew members gathering around a little tent, as he got closer he saw it was one of those old throwing games, where there was definitely some trickery hidden. Seeing you further away from the others, he arrived quietly, stopping right behind you.

"What are we doing?" When he saw you turn around, scared, his hands soon found your shoulders, reassuring you. "It's just me."

"It makes me calmer, but not less scared." you laughed, your hands itching to clasp against Law, but it wasn't something the two of you usually did in public. "Well, we're trying to win something."

"And you, why are you staying away?"

"This guy at this stand is one of those funny charlatan types who love to meddle." You held back a laugh, seeing his expression darken.

Before you could continue complaining about the man, Law's mind immediately wandered to what was in the background: an immense, white, perfectly stitched polar bear that was just an orange uniform away from transforming into Bepo.

"I am going to try." Law's speech surprised you, making you follow him to the edge of the bench.

"The pretty lady decided to try?" the man said in the most charlatan way possible, but Law responded immediately.

"No, in this case, her boyfriend." He took out some coins and placed them in front of the man. "Which one do I have to hit to win one of the prizes in that row?"

"That one." he pointed to the smallest of them all, further back. "But I warn you that it may take some time."

"Captain, everyone tried and no one succeeded." Bepo commented, clearly more concerned than he should be with the simple game. Meanwhile, you remained closer to him, silently watching the bet unfold.

"There, five rings, five chances." the man passed the pieces to Law.

He tried a few times in a row and failed each time. Both Law and his friends were already sighing frustrated with the fact that almost twenty-five rings thrown in a row had escaped the hole.

"There has to be some trickery in this." Law snapped, frustrated with not getting the bear he knew you wanted. "You're fooling us all!"

"Me cheating?" the man said cynically as he accepted more coins and gave Law more chances. "You offend me like this."

"Well, captain…" Shachi approached his side and picked up one of the rings, slamming it against the counter in front of the two. Soon after, he threw a small piece of paper towards the bow and hit it. "See, you're the bad one, captain."

Law quickly connected the dots. The rings were made of some metal material - which could interfere with the weight or even have a magnet pulling it - and the paper ball was not. One look was enough for Shachi and Penguin to understand that they had to act.

"I'll try again." Law muttered, more as a point of warning to his colleagues than anything else.

"Come on man, confess, there's a scam here." Penguin pulled the guy's arm in a falsely gentle way, stealing your attention along with it. "There's no point in deceiving us."

"I got it!" Law's surprised voice drew the two of you back to the captain's attempts, who was now smiling broadly in the man's direction. "So, my prize…"

"How did you get?" the man shouted indignantly, going to check if he had actually succeeded. "I mean, okay, you can choose your prize."

"Come on, you choose." Law turned to you, seeing your eyes light up at the proposal. "Although I already suspect what your decision is."

"The cute Bepo over there?" Your voice was excited, but in a way that only he heard.

Immediately, Law pointed to the huge white stuffed polar bear, which the man reluctantly removed from the wall. Law's laughter remained contained as he watched you almost itch to reach the bear that the man handed you.

"It's so cute!" You squeezed him, burying your face against his soft fur. "It's so good, it's the best gift I've ever gotten."

"This version of Bepo at least lets us squeeze him." Ikkaku joined you, squeezing the teddy bear as well and listening to the real version of Bepo's mumbles.

"You guys squeeze me too much sometimes, I need to breathe."

"We have the need to squeeze cute little things!" you pressed the plush against your arms.

There was a little relay of who would squeeze your bear - which yes, you nicknamed B2 or as Bepo, the second of his name - until they were back at Polar Tang.

"So, did you like the gift?" Law's voice entering the room was enough to cheer you up. "Does that mean he's already stolen my side of the bed?"

"Just until you come here."

"As if I wasn't already offended since you have to squeeze cute things." he grumbled and it only took seconds for you to throw yourself into his arms, covering any trace of skin and face you could find with smacking kisses.

"You.are.the.best.boyfriend.in.the.world." with each pause, it was a new time that your lips met Law's, this time causing a louder laugh to echo from him. "I loved the gift."

"And I'm glad you liked it." He quickly kissed your lips. "I'm going to take a shower, then can we spend some time together?"

"Me, you and B2?"

"Okay, just tonight. I'm surrounded by bears that give me a hard time." he pretended to be offended, knowing that your reaction would be another kiss on him.

Despite the grumblings - and the exorbitant amount of money spent on the attempts - the vision Law found was worth it. You lay on his bed, one of his t-shirts on your body and attached to your arms, the huge white bear. You matched cute things and for him, that would be worth any game - even if a certain devil fruit power had helped him this time.

[leaderwonim]

HALF RETURN part one

pairing. park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary. you and park sunghoon reunite years later, except this time, on the court.

warnings. cursing, mentions of sport injury, mentions of excessive drinking

“Are you ready to go?” Your coach, Lauren, swings your gym bag around her shoulder, eyes widening at how heavy it really was. “Geez Nishimura, what did you put in here? We’re only leaving for 4 days!”

You laugh, taking a quick sip of your Celsius before putting on your socks. “My camera, 2 large Celsius, you can have one Lauren—my Stanley, don’t worry, it’s filled with water and not sprite this time. Oh, and extra rackets.”

“First of all, you’re not even supposed to drink that much Celsius,” Lauren clicks her tongue disapprovingly, “and secondly, your camera? You haven’t used that in a while.”

She’s right. You haven’t. Ever since the incident with Sunghoon 4 years ago, you quit film and started focusing on other things.. such as tennis, Sunghoon’s passion. It seems ironic, but that wasn’t your intention.

Turns out, you were pretty darn good after watching and filming him during your relationship.

Lauren Perret, a coach who used to attend Harvard had been at the park when she saw you play with your friend and instantly became intrigued. In a matter of weeks, she started coaching you to play for Duke with the connection of her friend who was in close hands with the president there.

“Kinda need it, we’re playing against Harvard today.”

“Ah.” Lauren looks away, already knowing what you’re implying. “How has he been, by the way?”

“No idea,” you shrug. “Soobin tells me he’s still good as ever. Heartthrob alumni of Harvard, visits to give speeches to the athletes every week.”

Soobin was one of your film friends during your time at Harvard, and was actually quite the sweetheart. He became pretty close friends with Sunghoon after graduation, the two finding comfort in drinking soju everytime their life went downhill.

For Soobin, it was a horrible quality film. For Sunghoon, it was anything. You still remembered that about him. The littlest of depression could lead to him passed out in the middle of the road.

“You shouldn’t be too worried about him,” Lauren shrugs. “Just think of him as another opponent.”

“You’re right,” you straighten out your white skirt, looking one last time in the mirror before opening your apartment door. “Let’s get this baby on the road.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

“Hey.”

You sit down in front of Sunghoon, awkwardly glancing around the place.

Despite your relationship ending badly and abruptly, he had invited you out to dinner.

It’s on me, he had told you over message. And you were surprised he still kept your number after all this time.

“Are you guys ready to order?” You could tell the waitress had a bit of a staring problem, her eyes practically set themselves dead on Sunghoon and Sunghoon only.

“Ah yes, I’ll just get the caesar salad with ranch on the side.”

“I’ll get a steak.” You say, handing both of your menus to her after she’s done putting that on the tab.

“She was totally into you.”

Sunghoon scoffs. “Was not.”

“Whatever.” You wave him off. “Caesar salad with ranch on the side, though?”

“Gotta watch my diet for championship.” He shrugs. “You should too Nishimura.”

“How have you been?”

Sunghoon laughs, and you’re confused as to why. You hadn’t said anything funny.

“We’re really delving deep before I have my first wine of the night?” You don’t laugh, which makes the boy roll his eyes. “Okay fine. I’ve been doing okay. Are you sure you didn’t want to ask me about how I was when you exposed your films to the world four years ago?”

You choke on your spit, not expecting him to be so straightforward.

“When I first saw that, I was like no way. No way she would do that so carelessly, she got into Harvard for fucks sake—she wouldn’t do something stupid like that. But when I realized it happened and there was nothing I can do about it, I got so angry. I was angry for weeks, I was angry because everybody else was angry at me. They held me up to this high standard that when they saw me break it, they went ballistic. My coach yelled at me for weeks. Said I was the biggest disappointment known to man, and I was stupid for blowing opportunities away.”

“Wow, I—I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” he laughs. “After you exposed me, you found your love for tennis. If I had rewind time and asked you now if you would do what you did four years ago, you would say yes. Admit it, Nishimura.”

“Here is your food!” The waitress comes to end the tension, handing you two your plates. “And you requested 3 wines, Mr. Park?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He places two of the wines on his side and one on yours.

“Say whatever you want to say now,” Sunghoon smirks. “I finally have my wine.”

🎾 ⊹ ‧

When it came to the day of your competition, yours and Sunghoon’s coach share a nod, shaking heads silently.

From the corner of your eye, you finally see him.

After four years, he has grown. He’s no longer the boyish college athlete that you used to date before. Instead, his stance is confident, intimidating almost.

“Hi Nishimura,” he grins. And God, God, it’s the same grin he gave you the day you first met.

“Hi Park.”

He bounces the tennis ball, eyebrows furrowing. “Why are you so tense? Relax, it was four years ago.”

“You’re really over it?” You question.

“I guess.” He stretches his back, a loud cracking sound can be heard. “Not like you ruined my career for a whole 6 months and went after my passion.”

“Alright!” Your coach mushes you and Sunghoon together. “You guys are on now.”

Sunghoon bites the inside of his cheek, already in his starting stance. “Ready anytime you are Nishimura.”

You serve the ball, adrenaline flowing through your body like a stream.

“C’mon,” Lauren whispers at the edge of her seat, “just one more out.”

Suddenly, Sunghoon swings his racket hard at the ball, hitting it right at your eye, making your entire body fall backwards.

“Shit shit shit,” Sunghoon runs over to you, ignoring the loud yelling from your coach at the referee.

“Tell me,” you say to him, blurred vision making Sunghoon look like a distant memory. “That you love me.”

“I can’t.” He whispers, frowning as he positions you so you’re now sitting on the court.

“Tell me I wasn’t the issue in our relationship, Sunghoon. Give me that at least.”

His face still remains pitiful, “Y/N, you seriously never understood, have you? Not even after 4 years?”

“Understood what?”

“It was never about you.” He says quietly. “My life, I mean. It was always about tennis.”

And although you know he’s just being honest, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.10 a fresh start

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 10/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 10.5k

a/n. hiii!! welcome to ch10!! if you’re confused about the word count, i decided to split up the original ch10 of kickoff (which was 31k words) into three installments (read more here) and sooo this is the first installment :0 i really hope you enjoy! i think this is a pretty chill chapter so no warnings or anything hahha. i’ll see you at the bottom :”)

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☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

“Let me take you out on a date.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m busy.”

“You look like you could use a break.”

“You look like you should go bother someone else.”

“I don’t want to bother someone else, I want to bother you.”

You sigh, sitting back on your heels in the chair that you’ve been balancing yourself on for the past hour or so within the business building, room 202, not sure if it’s the paint fumes coming off the brush you’re holding in your hand that’s giving you the headache or if it’s the incessant pestering of the man sitting beside you.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon and you’re working on painting a poster for the Film Club photography showcase that’s happening later tonight, and what you thought would be a peaceful moment to yourself turned into what it is now since you ran into Gojo in the hallway as he was making his way out of class, and of course he decided to follow you around like a duckling after that.

You glance to the right. He’s still got his backpack on as he sits slumped in the chair beside you, with his presentation of washed out black jeans, a hoodie that’s a shade of void darker with UTokyo Men’s D1 Soccer heat-pressed printing across in jock lettering and he’s got the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair looks thoroughly kempt for once, and not slick with sweat like it usually is on the field, or tousled from the amount of times he runs his hands through it when he’s concentrated or frustrated. But he might start now, given you’re not budging at all to his advances.

“You know how nice it would be?” he says to you with his own version of a blissful sigh, resting his elbow on the conference table and setting his chin on top of his palm, and the way he leans into your space makes you subconsciously lean into him too. “We could go out for dinner, maybe by the beach, order dessert, you wear something nice–”

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“N-Not that you don’t always wear nice things–” His eyes briefly sweep down your form, in which you’re awkwardly sitting still with your paintbrush pinched between your fingers in mid air, and then he vaguely gestures to you, “I just mean something nicer,” this time, you feign an offended scoff, “wait, no, that came out wrong, I mean–”

“Satoru,” you interrupt him, bending over the table to dip your bristles into some blue paint in the palette at the other end, “I'm actually very busy right now, so I don’t really have the mental real estate to deal with your sales pitches on why I should let you take me out on a date.”

You can see in your peripheral vision that his eyes are on you, and you only flick your gaze to his face when you notice it’s the longest he’s been silent this entire time, and you find that he’s taking in the sight of you bent over this table. He snaps out of it when you sit back into your chair.

“And you constantly staring at my ass doesn’t exactly charm me, either.”

He glances over his shoulder for a brief second, as if to confirm the emptiness of this room, then grabs your chair to roll you towards him in between the space he’s created by the obnoxious amount of spread to his legs, and you wobble a little due to your seated position on your heels. A gasp leaves your lips at how close his face is now, and his hands hold onto the armrests of your chair to make sure it stays that way. “What do I have to do to charm you?”

You blink at him for a few, startled as you take in the serious expression on his face, and his eyes are so captivating you have trouble finding words. You know why he’s asking—because he’s teetering on an edge of desperation that’s evident in the way he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from your lips, like he’s just one slip of self control away from refusing your denial of him and closing this distance between the two of you that you seem so intent on torturing him with.

“I–” you start, and you grab onto his forearm with the excuse of gaining balance, the texture of a vein pulsing felt underneath your palm, “...I don’t know, figure it out.”

It’s a lame response, but you just can’t explain it. One week of him pining after you didn’t feel like enough, not after all the suffering he put you through after he rejected you, and maybe it was a little petty but you just liked seeing him chase after you because it felt like you finally had the power, the control, and that’s exactly why you don’t have an answer for him. But also, in your defense, his attempts to charm you so far have been………….rather unique and odd, and you’re starting to wonder if he’s ever had to “court” a woman before. Actions that have you realizing pretty privilege might really be a thing since he’s gotten this far despite his strange decision making.

Like earlier this week when he showed up to your apartment with flowers, but of course it wasn’t one of those sweet bouquets you’re always eyeing from the check-out line at Trader Joe’s, no–this man had pilfered an arrangement of roses and marigolds and tulips and dandelions from the park downtown near the city library while he was on a morning run and then showed up at your apartment with them in his hand. It annoyed you, because it was six in the morning, so not only did the ring of the doorbell wake you up but you also became annoyed at the early-morning reminder about how you’re not someone like Gojo who wakes up at the crack of dawn to casually go on eight mile runs (your biggest fear is marrying someone that wakes up at 5am on a Sunday to go on hikes and he unfortunately seems the type). But when you fluffed up those flowers in a vase at the kitchen counter a few hours after you shoo’d him away all in the name of getting a few more minutes of shuteye, you noticed the softness of the stems on the roses, and you realized he plucked each of the thorns off one by one before giving them to you.

He also showed up to your door yesterday, with twigs and leaves in his ruffled hair, a tear through his nylon shirt, and a small tuxedo kitten in the palm of his hand. When you asked him where he found the tiny thing, he said he heard something crying in the bushes while he was walking somewhere. And you figured that’s all the sensory input he would’ve needed to walk through ivy and thorns to find it. Something about I don’t know, I thought you’d think it’s cute and you’d wanna keep it, and you took it from him, the tiny thing so adorable and just a little puff ball in your hands, and most definitely covered in fleas. And then you started crying, because you remembered you can’t keep animals in your apartment. And then he started panicking because he didn’t know why you were crying and he tried to comfort you and that only made it worse and you kicked him out of your apartment with the tiny fluff baby too so as not to get attached, and you’re sure he still has absolutely no clue what he did wrong.

That’s how you would describe his efforts, in all honesty. But a part of you knows that he’s trying. You’re not entirely sure why that’s his definition of trying, but you haven’t thought a lot about what dating him would look like. You were so caught up in how you felt about him, and whether he felt the same, but you never thought a step forward after that. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said you could handle staying away from him any longer.

By the way, Gojo kept the kitten. He’s still working on a name but he’s thinking Grand Theft Auto just so he can say ain’t no way got GTA cat before GTA6.

“All you are is pain and suffering,” he says. “You know that, right?” He rolls your chair even closer, to where the momentum has you threatening to fall right into him, so your hand moves from his forearm to his shoulder, and you're starting to get suspicious he’s trapping you in his personal space.

“You’ll learn to manage it,” you say to him, voice hushed, and you see it in his face that your words excite him.

It’s hard to think straight when those eyes are on you, and after a solid minute of just staring at your lips, he moves his gaze up to level with yours to prove some level of restraint. But what he can’t keep himself from doing is placing a hand on your thigh, pressure soft as his fingers press into the fabric of your jeans, and the movement is slow when he slides his palm up to grip your hip but with more intent.

Your hand that was grasping onto his shirt starts inching towards his neck until it settles on the curve where it meets his shoulder, and your fingers lightly brush against the texture of the hair at his nape. His eyes are still on yours, even with the test of your tongue swiping across your bottom lip.

“Let me kiss you,” he says, and it would sound like a demand if he didn’t say it so breathlessly. His other hand also reaches out to grip onto your hips, urging you more towards him. Another shift forward and you’d be sitting in his lap.

“Oh, we’re asking for permission now?” you chastise, thumb pressing into his neck. He sucks a breath in through his teeth, and now his gaze drops to your lips.

“Yeah, ‘cause last time you were pissed about it.”

You almost roll your eyes. “Wow, my audacity,” you comment sarcastically.

“Just give it to me,” he says, face tilting, the perfect amount to kiss you if you just gave him– “the permission.”

Your breathing picks up when he leans forward, your eyes hooded slightly on reflex, and you’re both staring at each other's lips like it was stupid you’re not kissing right now.

The slam of the door startles you, and being one inch away from him turns into a foot of distance as your head turns to face the entrance of the room. Gojo’s still gripping onto your hips, keeping your chair close to him, and you’re shifting your body weight on your heels as you try to pull off his hold of you until he finally relents and releases.

There’s a student standing at the door, posture slumped as he holds a binder to his chest, and you can tell he’s probably a first or second year with the way he’s wide-eyed and just staring. When he realizes you’re waiting for him to speak, he jumps a little. “Oh! Uh, is this…where the Film Club showcase is happening?”

You straighten your posture, in a way that means business, and struggle a little to untuck your legs from your seated position on your chair to then stand up onto your feet with a bristling sensation of nerves in them when you realize they had fallen asleep. “Yes! Yes, it is. B202, you’ve got the right place,” you say and manage an awkward smile.

The student’s gaze shifts to Gojo, who you see in your peripheral vision is leaning back in his chair, knee swinging side to side and arms crossed at his chest. You want to tell him to sit up straight and not look so nonchalant in the presence of a stranger, but there are some things about a person you can’t really change.

You see the moment in the student’s eyes when he recognizes Gojo, and those wide eyes somehow become even wider. “Woah,” is all he says with a few blinks.

“Um,” you say, taking a step forward, “I’m sorry, what’s your name?” You feel eyes on your back as Gojo watches the interaction.

“Haru!” he says, “I think I messaged the club’s Instagram page last week…not sure if you’re the person I talked to.”

“Oh, yes, I remember,” you say and introduce yourself to him again. “Thank you for coming, but the event actually doesn’t start for a while…”

“Oh, my bad,” he says, “I’ll…” his gaze flickers to behind you, “...come back soon then.”

You purse your lips together and politely nod before he exits the room and you let out the breath you were holding, face wincing a little from the awkward interaction.

You turn on your heel to head back to the table, and you see Gojo still slumped in his chair looking at you with curiosity.

“Okay, seriously, please stop distracting me,” you say as you take a seat on your chair again and pick up your paint brush, “I need to finish this now, because I won’t have time before the event tonight.”

“Why won’t you have time before?” he asks, tapping on his phone screen to check the time. “It’s at six, right?”

“Yes, but I have to finish this poster, and then rehearse my presentation. And then I have to get the supplies from my professor’s room, and also need to go get the pizza and refreshments, and–”

“And why are you doing all this by yourself?” he asks, setting his elbow on the desk and leaning his cheek against the knuckles of his curled hand. He pulls the hood of his hoodie over his head.

You sigh. “The other board members were busy this week. With midterms and stuff. I mean, I’m busy too, but this is a really important event.” You sneak a glance at him, and his earnest attention is suddenly making you feel nervous. “It’s the freshman & sophomore students’ chances to show off their works in a large capacity, and talk to some people about their photos, even book some shoots if there’s a decent turnout.” He nods at you thoughtfully. “Anyways,” you say, directing our attention back to your poster, “I didn’t want to cancel it, so I just figured I’d take on the job. But I wasn’t expecting any distractions.” You regard him with an annoyed flick of your eyes in his direction.

He hums softly, and you use his silence to get lost in your thoughts for a moment. You still need to rehearse the presentation slides, and it could be the exhaustion you’ve faced in the past week that causes you to shake a little from the anticipation of speaking in front of people, but you realize that you’re nervous. Nervous to publicly speak. Nobara usually does these sorts of things as the president, you’ve always opted out to do more of the behind-the-scenes as vice, but there’s this feeling you’ve got that makes you realize if this event doesn’t go smoothly, there’s no one to blame but you.

You glance over at Gojo for a second, who has been watching you this whole time, and he raises an eyebrow in question. You blink, and shake your head slightly, as if to say oh, nothing and then your eyes slowly travel back to the brush in your hand.

“Are you nervous?” he asks you.

Your eyes widen slightly. “Huh?” you squeak out before looking at him.

He uses a jerk of his chin to point to your hand. “You’re shaking.”

You look down at your hand, and notice it is indeed trembling slightly, and you're about to hold your wrist with your other hand to keep yourself from shaking, but his hand beats you to it when it falls over your own. You look down at the sight, and then slightly tilt your palm upwards so you can loosely hold onto his. He squeezes it once and you look at him.

“You’ll be fine,” he says.

It all feels a little silly. I mean, you can imagine the last thing in the world he could empathize with is stage fright. He plays in front of thousands of people in stands every week, of whom you’d say half of which are showing up for him exclusively, and even if the team’s down during the half or stakes are insanely high, or if the chants are so loud most people could hardly even hear themselves think, he always pulls through in the end. Something as simple as presenting in front of a handful of students in a media room wouldn’t have his hand trembling the way yours is right now, because there probably isn’t a fearful bone in his body.

“Do you ever get nervous?” you ask him. It comes out faster than you could think, but curiosity is killing you.

His eyes study your face, brows dropping a little.

“I mean, on the field,” you clarify, “when you’re playing.”

He relaxes a little bit. “Oh, no, not really. I mean, sorta, but it’s not really a feeling I can afford to give much thought to when I’m out there, so I guess not?”

“Mm…” you hum, accepting his answer, and his fingers curl over your hand to hold it a little tighter. “I see. I wonder what that’s like.”

“What what is like?” he asks.

“Not getting nervous.”

“I get nervous sometimes. Just not really on the field.”

“When do you get nervous?” you ask him.

“Usually when I’m with you.”

Your eyes study his intently and your cheeks feel warm.

“Are you just messing with me?” you ask, with a half scoff, to prepare yourself to play it off as a joke.

“No, I’m not,” he states, “I get nervous around you. Cause I’m always scared I’m gonna fuck shit up somehow.”

“Oh,” you say, shoulders slumping a little, “I thought it was a different kind of nervous.” Like a love sick, can’t breathe around the person, heart about to give out kind of soul crushing adoration-filled nervousness.

He looks at you puzzled. “What other kind of nervous is there?” he asks.

You sigh. “Nevermind.” You pull your hand out from under his, and he flexes his fingers a little, like he’s getting used to the absence of your hand underneath his, before he withdraws it back to his side.

Your hand is still shaking.

“Hey,” he says, leaning in a bit closer to make sure you hear what he has to say, “I saw you slap the shit out of a guy at a bar for disrespecting you and then telling that other fuckface to go take it up the ass. Which is probably the most badass thing I think I’ve ever seen anyone do, so I know you’ve got no reason to be nervous right now.”

You take in a deep breath for confidence and nod.

“Okay,” you whisper.

He leaves you alone for the most part after that while you work on your slides, except for his occasional loud shouts when he messes up some mission in the combat game he’s playing on his phone. And you remember he’s someone who’s supposed to be extremely busy, and probably has shit to do right now, but he’s essentially killing all day here with you.

“What are you doing?” he asks when he peers over at your laptop screen once you come back from a bathroom break.

“Oh.” You stretch your fingers out and close them into fists over your keyboard before going back to one of your open tabs. “I need to submit my grad school application.”

Gojo places his elbows on the table and leans his weight onto them, watching your laptop screen from beside you as you navigate UTokyo’s grad school application portal. You can already tell he’s dissociating.

“It’s done?” he asks as you click through the webpage.

“Yes. It’s done. Officially. I just need to–,” you take a deep breath in, “I just need to press…submit.”

Your cursor hovers over the blue button, in the same way your finger is hovering over your mousepad, and you’re stuck frozen.

Gojo leans in closer to your space to where you can smell the soft fragrance of his detergent, “then press submit.”

“I…I will.” You blink at the screen.

But you’re the queen of stalling, in all aspects of life.

He takes his elbow off the table and reaches his arm over to your laptop before pressing down firmly on the right-click cursor button, and you watch in a panic as the loading circle appear on the screen as he calmly retreats his arm, and then you see Congratulations on submitting your UTokyo Graduate School Early Admissions Application for the 2024-25 School Year!

“What–” you look at him with shock.

“You were taking too long,” he says with a shrug.

You slump into your seat with a small pout and watch your phone light up with a confirmation email as well.

“So how should we celebrate when you get in?” he asks.

“We? And when as in if.”

“Yes, we. And when. Now answer.”

You sigh. “I dunno…”

“Is there something that you really want?” he asks, nudging your arm with his elbow before he lays his cheek down on his forearm on the table so he can see your face better. And he looks so cute and boyfriend-ish with the way his hair sprawls over the sleeve of his hoodie and his cheek is plush from where he’s resting it.

You lean all the way back in your chair. “Mm…to end world hunger. Cure cancer. Bring peace and prosperity to all my friends and family.”

“Yes ok, very kind of you,” he responds, voice scratchy like he’s tired but his leg is bouncing impatiently underneath the table, “I meant something you can buy.”

“Like happiness?”

“Just be serious for a second.”

You laugh. “Hmm…I mean, it’s not really a tangible thing…but I’ve always wanted to take a roadtrip to Mt. Fuji,” you offer.

He lifts his head up off his arm with interest. “Ok, then, when you get in, I’ll take you on a trip to Mt. Fuji. All expenses paid.”

“You sound like one of those travel advisors at the mall that scam families for debit card deposits,” you snort, “also, why do I feel like it’d just be an excuse for you to annoy me in forced proximity over the span of five to seven days.”

He drops his head to rest it on his arm again with a small grumble leaving him. “You’re so cynical sometimes.”

Just a bit jaded since last week, is what you think to say. But you’re not in the mood to explain the existential dread within you since Kai’s whole posse of ultra lame losers stirred the unnerving pot of career stress within you, but maybe you just need a bit of time to come down from it.

“Ok fine. If it’s all paid for, then I guess I shall accept the offer. Er, the prospect of the impending offer.

There’s a grin on his face, kinda drowsy and sick with some sort of glee, and he uncrosses one of his arms from the surface of the table to hold his hand out to you, pinky sticking up in the air.

“Alright then, it’s a promise,” he says.

You blink at him, eyeing his pinky, but he just wiggles it in the air like get on with it. You sigh, curling yours around his firmly, and your signature addition is the press of your thumb to his in security of sealing the deal, which you realize by the slight furrow to his brow that he’s never seen it before. You shrug.

“Pinky promises are never to be broken,” he says, kinda cheekily like he knows it sounds silly, and for a second there’s a glimpse of juvenile innocence on his face. His words sound like something a parent would echo to a child, like words from his own. Your pinkies are still coiled. “You’ve gotta say it too.”

“P-Pinky promises are never to be broken,” you repeat after him.

“Sweet.” He pulls his hand from your and then he turns his face so his forehead is resting on his arm now instead of his cheek, breathing slowly as he’s silent for a minute.

“Are you–...are you sleeping?” you ask.

“Yes.” He muffles into his crossed arms.

“Tired?”

He sighs heavily. “Very.”

“Um…I need your help with some things, though.”

“...okay.”

—

“Who are we going to see again?” Gojo asks, using a shake of his head to get some of his fringe out of his eyes hands-free as his fingers spread in his hold of the box underneath them, and it’s hard not to admire the way his hands look. Large shades of pale pink where they were slightly strained, like at his knuckles and joints, and those cool toned veins that valley from the grip that he has. There’s something way more attractive about his hands when he puts them to earnest use.

You two are walking down the hallway on the third floor of the building. “Our faculty adviser for our club,” you say, reaching into your pocket to make sure you still had your keys with you, “oh, he’s also the professor I asked for my reference.”

“Ohhh, interesting,” Gojo comments. “You said he’s a fan of soccer right?”

You’re taken back to that first night you met Gojo at that frat party, and you mentioned your professor to him. Feels like forever ago. But at the same time, like yesterday.

“Yes, UTokyo’s team in particular,” you comment, “honestly I think he might faint when he sees you.”

“I wish you would faint when you see me,” he sighs.

You roll your eyes and then finally arrive at your professor’s office. It’s slightly ajar, as it usually is, and you take a small peek inside to see that he’s sitting at his desk, window open and illuminating the room with golden rays of the setting sun, and you’re made aware of the fact that night is coming soon.

“Hi, Professor,” you say after knocking once, and the man jumps in his seat when you pull the door open to step inside. You always forget he’s easily startled, and make another mental note to not scare him anymore because if he gets a heart attack and dies from shock, you wouldn’t be able to afford the lawsuit.

“Hello, hello, y/n,” he greets, sitting up in his chair by grabbing onto the arm rests for leverage, and you can feel the edge of the box push against your back as Gojo makes his way into the room too.

As predicted, your professor nearly faints and dies from shock when he clocks the sight of Gojo, and you briefly wonder if Gojo would be able to afford the lawsuit, and then your professor is running up to him and shaking his hand with a vigor that has the younger man wincing a little in discomfort, but by the short amount of time you’ve finished looking through the storage room for projector cables & supplies, then re-emerge to your professor’s office with filled up boxes in your hands, Gojo’s typing his number into your professor’s phone and apparently he’s going salsa dancing with him and his wife this weekend?

“You should come too,” Gojo says, adjusting his grip on the boxes he took from you as you two meander down the hallway back to the media room.

You dust your hands off. “To what? Salsa dancing?”

“Yeah, apparently there’s gonna be spiked brazilian lemonade,” he coos, like he’s pitching a pyramid scheme to you.

You sigh. “How often do people just randomly invite you to things?”

He glances up at the ceiling like he really needs to think about it. “I dunno. I just accept, don’t always go.”

“So you’re, like, a selective people pleaser,” you note. “Save face in the moment but then run away from the commitment.”

“Relax. I was having a good evening.”

You two make it back to the media room with no more unsolicited psychoanalysis, and you’re scrambling around to get things in order for the event while Gojo tries his best to be helpful wherever he can, but he mostly just looks like a lost puppy.

“Okay so I ordered four pizzas,” you say, holding up four fingers in the air, “and then you also need to get, like, maybe two family size bottles of Coke from the store?” Now two fingers. “A pack of napkins would be nice too since apparently we ran out.” You look through the box you got from your professor’s storage room. “And…I think that’s it. Keep the receipts so I can reimburse you.”

Gojo nods at you after every command, eyes wide and brows furrowed in concentration like he’s really trying to picture the list of tasks in his head so he doesn’t forget any of them, and you feel a bit bad for ordering him around to do all of this for you but he was here anyway so you might as well put him to use.

“And then can you also get some stuff from the trunk of my–er, Mina’s car. I parked it by the Literature building in Lot 16.” You pull the car keys out from your tote bag and hand it to him. He stands there like a statue before his fingers curl around the cold metal keys. “Please be back here a half hour before six!!”

“So I guess I’m a member of the club now?” he muses, throwing the keys up into the air a few feet to then catch them.

“Mm, no, you need to fill out a form to be an official member,” you say as you make your way to the podium and open the drawer to pull out one of the microphones.

“Send me the form then,” he says.

“It’s on our Instagram.” You tap the head of the microphone and are satisfied when you hear thumping across the room’s speakers. “LinkTree in bio!!” you chirp in club advertisement reflex.

He pulls his phone out from his pocket and half leans back/half sits on one of the tables and taps away at his screen. You’re standing at the podium computer scrolling through your logged-in Spotify account to figure out which ambient playlist to have playing for the event.

“Alright,’ he says before slipping his phone back into his pocket, “I just filled out the form.”

Your phone chimes with an email notification right after he says it. “Yay! Congrats! Welcome to UTokyo’s Film Club!” you exclaim, again, in practiced club advertisement reflex.

He smiles at you and crosses his arms. “Are there any cool perks?” he asks.

“Uhh, a chance to enter into a Kodak film roll raffle every semester?” you say, knowing it’s useless because you two are graduating in less than two months so this was your last semester anyway and the raffle had already passed. Oh, also useless because Gojo isn’t a film photographer. Your phone chimes with another email notification. You glance at it. “Oh! Someone else RSVP’d for the event tonight. Yayyy.”

“Sorry, I think that was me,” he says, “I filled out the wrong form at first.”

“Oh,” your shoulders drop in a sulk slightly, done before conscious thought can stop the motion, so now Gojo’s caught onto the fact that you’re upset about something.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, and he walks over to where you’re standing at the podium.

“I’m just a little…bummed out about the turnout,” you confess as you glance at the RSVP form for the event on your phone, “eighteen people signed up, but that includes the eight students that are showcasing their photography. Oh, and now it also includes you. So…that means only nine real sign-ups, and I guess it���s a little less than what I thought it would be.”

“Aww,” he coos, and he places his elbows up onto the wood of the podium, holding his face up to look at you. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” you say, and you blush for some reason.

He’s smiling at you now, boyish and lost in thought that probably has nothing to do with the conversation at hand.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, “I just think you’re really cool.”

“Okayyy,” you diffuse the compliment, “are you going to stay for the event?”

“Will you let me?” he asks.

“Maybe,” you say, “if you don’t do anything strange during it.”

“And if I do?” he asks.

“So you are going to do something strange?”

“Nope.”

“Well, now you seem suspicious.”

He laughs. “I was just joking.”

“When you bring the pizzas back, just leave them outside the door. I’ll take it from there,” you say.

“You’re not even gonna let me inside?” he scoffs.

“No.”

“And if I come inside anyway?”

“I’ll place a bucket of water at the top of the door,” you say, “so it’ll fall on you, except it’ll give you a concussion instead of a soak.”

He snorts. “Yeah? How are you even gonna reach the top of the door?”

“I–...shut up.”

“I can help you,” he grins, leaning forward on the podium, “reach the top of the door.”

“You’re going to help me terrorize you?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

He shrugs. “Anything if it means I get to touch your butt.”

“Wha–!! Why would that entail you touching my butt?!”

He looks confused by your confusion. “Hmm…maybe…maybe we should act out what you think this scenario would entail…and then we can act out what I think this scenario would entail, perhaps multiple times, and then–”

“Just go get the things I asked, please,” you say with a sigh.

He laughs, it’s sweet but loud, and you blush when you realize he’s just messing with you for his own amusement.

“Stop teasing me,” you pout at him.

“I seriously can’t help it,” he tells you, and he leans himself off the podium to stand up straight before shoving the car keys you gave him into his pocket, “the way you react is always so cute.”

You feel like you could melt.

“Alright, I’ll be back,” he says, and you watch him as he heads out the door. And the room feels empty without him.

Luckily there are things you can distract yourself with in his absence. Well, technically he was the distraction, but sometimes it felt like everything else was the distraction keeping you from him.

There’s still about an hour left before the film club students come in to set up the exhibits, and you set up everything else you need to set up around the room, like moving the tables around so that the walk flow is like that of a museum’s, you set the club posters you painted up on the wall, pull a plastic table cover over what will be the food and refreshments section when Gojo eventually brings them. And you spend the last ten minutes rehearsing your slides.

It occurs to you that this is the last time you’ll be doing any of this, possibly for the rest of your life. Film Club still has a few events left for the year, but they’re mostly just tabling events and then the end-of-year banquet at the Cheesecake Factory. And so as you click through slides at the podium, your eyes drift from the screen off into the still empty room. And that feeling of something coming to an end washes over you. But you’re not really sure how to feel about it just yet.

Your thoughts drown out the gradually growing bustling noise outside in the hall, and you only become aware of it about a couple minutes later, when the noises increase into loud shouts and cheers. Was there some event next door that you didn’t know about at the same time as the Film Club event? You didn’t know of any, but right before you can check the university’s social media, the door burst opens and Gojo’s standing there with a stack of four pizzas balancing on one palm, with the pinky hooking a plastic bag seemingly carrying a couple bottles of soda, and in his right hand is—…beer?

“Hey,” Gojo says, a gleeful look on his face. The noises outside are heard clearly with the door he’s keeping open with his foot, and then they disappear back into muffles once again when he closes the door. “Where do you want this stuff?”

You storm up to him. “W-Why did you buy beer?” you ask him.

“Huh?” he glances down at the couple of cases of beer in his left hand. “I mean, pizza and beer, you can’t go wrong with that.”

“What??”

He blinks at you. “I-Is it BYOB or something??”

“Satoru. This isn’t a frat party!! This is a Film Club event!!”

“There’s no alcohol at your events?” he asks, setting the pizzas down on the food and refreshments table you had set up earlier. “I assumed you had just forgotten to ask me to get some from the store when you were listing off tasks earlier.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “No. There is no alcohol at our events,” you sigh. But he’s ripping the tops of the cases anyway. “Do you know why it’s so loud outside?” You move towards the door and try to peer through the frosty glass.

“They’re here for the event,” he says. You swirl on your heel to face him, but all you see is the expanse of his back as he rips a pack of napkins open.

“T-This event?” you squeak out.

He looks over his shoulder at you. “Yeah. You said something about the turnout being small, so I posted it to my Instagram story.”

Your mouth drops open.

He stiffens. “I mean, that’s what one of the…” his voice slowly trails off, “…roles & responsibilities was…for the Film Club membership form…to be a member…”

You continue to stare at him.

“…help publicize for club events,” he clarifies.

You quickly turn to face the door again and push it open with force, almost hitting someone straight in the face, and after you apologize for your carelessness, you take in the huge line of people flush against the wall, all chatting with friends in small groups that trail all the way back to the entrance of the building. Most of them are people you’ve recognized at SAE parties and social media posts, and you quickly close the door because now your heart is beating so fast in your chest from the nerves that you can hardly handle it.

You turn to face Gojo again and walk up to him while he’s still busy fixing up the table with more finesse than you'd have expected from him. “Satoru!! I don’t have enough pizza to feed all these people!! There isn’t even enough space in this room for all of them!!” You’re panicking a little.

He tilts his head at you. “Just—…have them walk inside in a single file and round out of the room in a circle.” He gesticulates the plan with his finger in the air. “Easy.”

Right. Like the professional-grade sports conference signings he’s been a part of. “I’m just one person. I have no idea how I’m gonna deal with a group that large.”

“Relax,” he assures you, and he takes a step towards you to hold both your hands in his, “it’s going to be fine! You’ve done these events before, it’s no different than those times. Plus you’re not just one person! I’ll be here with you, too.”

His overwhelming positivity and ease and nonchalance is starting to contrast way too heavily with your anxiety and uncertainty and cynicism, and it has you pulling your hands from his because your palms are starting to get sweaty.

The door creaks open slightly ajar, and you both turn to face it. Haru, the film student from earlier, takes a step into the room.

“Hi!! This is—…this is where the event is supposed to be, right?” he asks sheepishly with skepticism, likely because he can’t believe the line outside.

“Yes!” you confirm, and you glance at the projector screen for the time, “take a seat, I’ll be going over logistics soon.”

Following him suit are a few other film students that trickle in and take seats at the tables, and you do a mental roll call and notice that only a couple are missing. But you’ve only got five minutes until the hour starts for the event, so you shut the door airtight for a peaceful ambience and rush to the front of the room at the podium.

“Hi,” you say into the mic, “thanks so much to you all for coming here!! In a few minutes, I’ll be opening the door for people to come by and check out your photo exhibits. I ask that if you do get commissions booked for your work, you write it down on the sheets provided so we can assess the helpfulness of these events in helping students secure freelance work!” You’re practically reading off a script as a coping mechanism, because your hand is shaking in anticipation. You look down at it underneath the hood of the podium, and in a second, it’s being covered by a familiar hand.

Gojo’s standing next to you at the podium now, holding your hand but discreet from view, and it gives you enough ease to finish your presentation smoothly, mostly because it goes by in a blur with the distraction of his comforting hand squeezes, and you can finally release the deep breath you were holding in.

“Awesome,” Gojo says right when you dismiss the students to start setting up their photo exhibits at their tables, “you finished the presentation. It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“You almost sound patronizing,” you sigh, but you turn your palm up so he can hold your hand anyway.

By the time you open the door for the event, your anxiety has settled, and all you feel is awe as you watch people make their way into the room. Albeit most of them just go straight for the beer and pizza at first (which you’re pretty sure is illegal to serve on campus, but whatever), and you had to make the last minute decision to change your spotify playlist on the speakers from Studio Ghibli classics to early 2000s club music just to keep them engaged, but as the event proceeds, they all start to travel down the exhibit tables and glance at students photos sprawled across tables and swiping through slideshows on their laptops, and there’s genuine conversation and interest.

Turns out frats & sororities were the target audience for professional photography all along? Considering how anal they are about their social media aesthetics and what-not. Something you’d never even really considered until today, and somehow your world has become a little bit bigger than what it was before.

As you walk around the room just to eavesdrop on some conversations and make sure things are going okay, you steal glances at the freelance commision sign up papers that the film students are keeping track of, and you see occasions written down like birthday photoshoot and grad photos and aunt’s baby shower scribbled under the event columns and you start to feel emotional. The little freshmen & sophomore film students look so ecstatic with the amount of work they’re booking in one evening, and for once you feel like a proud mom.

This is singlehandedly the biggest turnout you’ve ever seen for any event you’ve ever hosted, and for someone that has a hard time asking for help most of the times, you finally see what you’ve been missing out on when you do let someone see you for who you are and they just know what’s important to you.

When you think of it, he’s always known what’s important to you. And he’s always cared.

You’re blinking fast to fight the sheen of tears when you look at Gojo from across the room, who’s chatting it up with some people he knows and then ushering them into the showcase line, because you realize he’s made you feel really proud of yourself today, which is something you’ve really struggled with in the past week.

It’s been four years since you joined this club, with hours of hard work invested into events that weren’t going to get the front page of the newsletter like the Friday soccer games would, or get circulated around on social media like the sorority formals would, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t any less important. And it’s ironic that someone like Gojo who fits into that world of prestige and popularity and success is the one to show you that.

“Hey.” You jump when you hear Gojo’s voice near you and realize you had been too lost in thought to notice that he was approaching you. He’s pointing over his shoulder towards the door. “Some guy came by and said we’ve only got five minutes left for the room?”

You turn away from him slightly, and the sniffle of your nose is quiet enough in the loud echoes of the room. “Oh, yes, um, we only had it booked for an hour. I didn’t think we’d need more than that.”

“Oh okay,” he says, “I’ll tell everyone to get lost then.”

“But not before telling them to follow us on Instagram!!” you chirp at him in practiced club advertisement reflex, “the QR code is posted on the door.”

He nods slowly. “Sure thing, boss.” He turns to head back to the line of people still leading out of the door, but his eyes linger on your face and he turns back to you. The step he takes towards you makes you nervous, because you don’t want him to see you were on the verge of tears. You’re good at hiding these sorts of things.

“Are you okay?” he asks, tilting his head down to look at you straight in the face because it’s obvious you’re not making eye contact.

You take in a deep breath and finally level your gaze with his when you’re certain your eyes are dry. “Yes, fine. Thank you.” And you smile at him. And he takes your word for it.

__

It’s pitch black outside as you walk with Gojo across campus towards the parking lot. He’s carrying all the supplies you have to take home in boxes piled high in his arms, while you just pull an empty mini wagon along because there’s way too many stairs as obstacles for any mode of transport by wheel.

There are a few moments where your shoulder accidentally brushes against his arm, and it’s mostly because you can’t walk in a straight line for the life of you, but you like it because it just feels nice to be in his space somehow. Like those little moments when your knee bumps someone else’s under the table, or your hands touch when handing something to someone, always noticed but never addressed because it just felt natural.

On the way to the faculty parking lot, where the blacktop is barely lit by the baseball stadium lights off in the distance, the exhaustion of the day catches up to you. Gojo’s hand reaches inside his pocket and he pulls out Mina’s car keys before pressing down on a button to open the trunk.

“Gosh, I forgot you had those keys,” you sigh as you fold the wagon and slide it into the back. “I would’ve freaked out if I noticed I didn’t have them.”

“Yeahhh I considered pretending that I lost them just to fuck with you, but I got lazy,” he says with a shrug and a yawn then sets down the boxes in the trunk with a slight grunt that leaves him, then he’s dusting his hands off.

You do a quick look-through of the supplies to make sure you didn’t forget anything in the room, and then pull your phone out to text Nobara that everything went well today. Well, great. Fantastic. Honestly, she’ll be shocked by the turnout when she sees the Instagram photos you’ll be posting to the club’s socials.

Gojo pulls down on the top of the trunk and shuts it closed, then he turns to face you. “Alright, so…”

“So…” you repeat after him, and you’re not sure why the air feels a little awkward, but you twiddle with your fingers because you don’t have the desire to step into the car and head home just yet.

Gojo nods slowly, looking around himself at the ground. “I guess that’s everything.”

“Mhm.”

He scratches the back of his head, and you realize he’s not making any moves to walk away either.

“Um,” you say, “Satoru–”

“Yeah?” he responds, fast, the second you say his name.

You take a step closer to him, and lean your hip against the car. “Thank you,” you say, holding onto your elbow and rubbing soothing circles over your own arm, “for what you did tonight.”

He tilts his head at you in confusion, but then his face relaxes. “Oh, no worries,” he says with a smile, and his voice sounds a little tired from the day too, “I’m pretty sure you would’ve killed yourself if you tried to carry those boxes down the stairs.”

“What?...no, no, not for the boxes,” you say with a shake of your head, and then you remember you need to be offended by what he just said, “what the hell, that’s not true. I have more than sufficient upper body strength.”

He tucks his bottom lip under his teeth, like to stifle a laugh. “Uh-huh.”

You sigh and briefly pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance and then shake the feeling off with a shake of your head. “I meant…for what you did by publicizing the event.” And for being there for you, when you were feeling alone and nervous about the whole thing, like he could tell you just really needed someone to be with you. But you bite your tongue before you can say that part too.

His brow furrows for a moment, and you realize he’s confused about the appreciation.

“It’s just, I know what it was like when I was a freshman and sophomore, feeling like my work wasn’t really reaching anyone,” you say to him, the vulnerability on your sleeve as you speak, “so it was a really nice thing for you to do for those underclassmen today. I saw the looks on their faces, and they looked really happy. And–...I’m sure it made their day.” You glance off to the side for a moment because you feel a little shy, and then you look back at him. “It made mine too.”

He takes a step towards you, and he’s close now, to where the tips of his shoes almost touch yours. His eyes are calm, darker with minimal light to reflect off of but there are still stars in them as always. “I’m glad I could help. Uh, well, I’m a member of the club now, so, if you need any other help, then. You know where to find me.”

You laugh. “I doubt there’s much I could give you to do at this point in the year, but alright. If anything comes up, I’ll assign it to you.”

You both look up at each other with small smiles. Your thumbs still swiped over the skin of your arm, and he shoves his hands in his pockets to look at his feet, rocking back and forth on his heels slightly. You click your tongue and look up at the sky, and he tilts his head to the side a few times to stretch it out. Were you two just so brain-fried by the day that you can’t even think of a single thing to say to one another? But if that was the case, then why not just call it a day and go home?

There’s a person on a bicycle that passes by, jingling his bell in the process and that breaks the two of you out of this weird trance, and then he’s clearing his throat and you’re shifting on your feet.

“Oh, by the way—” “Um, I just wanted to—” you both say at the same time.

You blink at each other.

“Sorry,” he laughs, “go ahead.”

“No, no, you go ahead,” you say.

“It’s fine,” he gestures to you. “You first.”

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Well—,” he starts, “I’ll say what I want to say after you say what you want to say…so…no worries. Go ahead.”

“Right,” you nod in agreement, and scratch your arm a little. “I just wanted to say I’m still…sorry about what I said to you last week outside that bar,” you confess, “about…having it easy in life.” You squeeze your upper arm in anxious tendency. “ImeanIknowIalreadyapologizedforit,” you say, fast, with surprisingly no tongue twist, “but…still. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t open up to me about stuff because of what I said and because of…I guess, the…mean impression I claimed to have of you. I just don’t think I was in a great headspace, and…well.” You look up at him and his expression is soft. “I’ve really appreciated being able to talk to you about lots of things. Um. So, yeah, I just wanted to say again that I’m really sorry about it.” You take in and release a deep breath once you’re done with your ramble.

He’s quiet for a moment as he lets your words sink in, and he briefly glances down at his shoes, shoulders raising slightly to roll them back and then he relaxes them when he looks at you again.

“It’s okay,” he says, and he leans against the car now too. “I know you said that I was contributing to making you feel that way, so I owe you an apology for that too.”

You blink up at him.

“Plus, you were dealing with a bunch of pricks,” he says, “and stressed about your future.”

“Mm,” you acknowledge.

“We’re seniors,” he randomly mentions, “I think we’re all just…trying to figure ourselves out? So, I get it. And I don’t want you to feel bad about it.”

You feel a tickle in your throat, and the distracting pain of your nails digging into the palms of your hands is enough to direct your brain away from getting emotional right now. “That’s true. Figuring ourselves out. Mm.”

He gives you a small smile, and then he sighs when he remembers something. “Yeah, a friend of mine just broke up with his girlfriend of six years because he didn’t get into law school, so, stress is a crazy thing.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry for him–and, them.”

“Yeahhh he bought a ring and everything,” Gojo says, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing a little in empathetic discomfort.

“Oh my gosh.”

“Well, anyway,” he laughs a little, in some sort of fear that he’s just made things awkward, “you don’t have to worry about what you said. I–” he pauses, “I’m hard to get rid of when I want to be around. Ask Suguru, he’s tried to get rid of me on multiple occasions.”

You laugh, and he doesn’t follow up with any more jokes or explanations, like he just wants to hear your laugh in its purity. And you nod, taking in his words for a bit, letting them rerun in your head, because they leave a warmth in you.

“Have you given any thought to what you want to do after graduation?” you ask, and you’re humbled by the fact that you never even thought to ask him that before. Hell, you even asked the stranger you sat next to in stats today that question before you ever asked him.

“Yeah,” he nods, “I think I’m gonna play for the national league.”

“Oh! That’s awesome,” you chirp, “I have no doubt you’ll get it. I’ve seen those recruiters constantly coming up to you during games.” You lightly poke his arm in flattery. “Although you always look super annoyed when they do.”

He laughs. “Yeah, they have no concept of time or place.”

“But anyway,” you say, “that’s really cool. I know your dreams are going to come true, and you’ll be great at it too.”

He nods, and you notice your words seem a little lost on him, like he's distracted by something else, but he covers it up with a well-meaning smile of pursed lips and then another silence settles between you two.

“Oh, what were you gonna,” you start, pointing your finger at him, “what were you gonna say?”

“Oh, right, phew, thanks,” he exhales in relief at the reminder, “well, I guess it’s more of a…question,” he’s sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, “but we–the frat–is hosting this barbeque thing on Thursday before our game on Friday…and, I was wondering if you’d want to come.” His words hang in the air for a moment as he’s preemptively studying your expression for any clue of an answer, and you realize he’s nervous. When you keep your features neutral, he feels the need to keep speaking. “I mean I—...I’d have to send you the invite, ‘cause it’s kind of an exclusive thing…it’s also in the afternoon since it’s too late in season for us to be throwing parties the night before a game, but, uh, if you’re free,” he pauses to take a breath, “I’d really love it if you came.”

You just stare at him.

He holds his hands up in a slight panic, shoulders tense. “Not a—…it’s not a date though. Don’t worry.”

“Ahh…” you nod, feigning relief but in all honesty you forgot about how many times you’ve turned down his pleas for a date this week and you think it’s sort of cute but also sad that he felt the need to clarify. “Yeah, um, I’ll let you know.”

He smiles, it’s genuine and real and something you’ll never get tired of. “Alright, cool.”

And here you two are standing again in silence, just looking at one another. If you were on the outside, looking in, you’d think that the two of you had just met. Like a fresh start.

Your breathing slows as you gaze up at him, because the way his brow furrows ever so slightly as he looks at you is so handsome and sweet and it makes you remember how when you first met him, you wondered if you’d ever feel relaxed in his presence from how gorgeous he is. Back then, you never would’ve imagined that you would make him nervous someday.

His gaze slowly travels down to your lips, and you feel your eyes soften to where everything else around you is a blur. You want to kiss him. Maybe as a thanks, or a reward, something sweet to show him how much today meant to you. You tilt your head, looking up with doe eyes and flutters of your eyelashes, in the most obvious way a girl could silently tell a guy she wants him to kiss her. He’d have to be the most immensely dense person on the planet to not—

“You really should think about the salsa dancing,” he says, breaking any and all energy between the two of you, “I think it’d be fun.”

You blink at him for a solid ten seconds, and then sigh with a slight slump to your shoulders, because you realize he’s probably never had to guess if a girl wants him to kiss her or not. And he’s still as dense as the person he was when you first fell for him. But there’s something endearing about it, too. Simple. Simple was what you needed. “Mhm.”

After another brief moment of silence, you tuck your hair behind your ears.

“I should get going,” you say, through an awkward half laugh, “I have an essay due at 8AM tomorrow, so...I need to go home and procrastinate.” That earns a short snort from him, and you lean yourself off of the car to head towards the driver’s side. Gojo’s on your tail and then suddenly a step ahead of you as he gets the door for you and you sit inside then fiddle with the rearview mirror just to give your hands something to do because you feel his eyes on you and it’s all-consuming as ever.

“Hey,” he says, resting his elbow on top of the car door as he peers down at you, “text me when you get home.”

You look up at him while you push the keys into ignition. “I will. Good night.”

“Night,” he says with a soft smile on his face, and he hesitates for a moment before he closes the door. Like something someone would do when they don’t want a moment to end.

.

.

.

a/n. thanks so much for reading!! this was such a domestic little chapter to write haha i think it’s the most mellow of the three scenes i wrote for the original longer version of ch10 but sdkfhsdkf i still really enjoyed writing it.

anywhoooooooo the next chapter will be the frat bbq :0 i’m very excited for that one, i think it’s my favorite of the three installments aaa there’s a scene i wrote for it that is one of the highlights in the series for me so far. not because it’s angsty or dramatic or anything, it’s just really silly and cute and horny and is kinda young love vibes and i’m living for that recently because gege has ripped my heart out already i cannot handle angst rn xD hope that’s ok

again thanks so much for reading. i think some of you may know it was really hard for me to push through w writing bc of lots of reasons and stuff that was happening on my account, but all the lovely support n messages really motivated me to not give up on the chapter and i really appreciate that a lot!!

also i had fun dedicating the last chapter to someone, so i kinda wanted to do that again!! i have a lovely n sweet 🫶🏼 anon whose birthday was i think the week after i was supposed to initially post ch10, but unfortunately i didn’t get around to posting it in time even though i said it would be my early bday gift to them BAHAHAH so i wanted to dedicate this chapter to my darling 🫶🏼 anon <33 happy belated birthday my love!!

aaa i’ll hopefully see you in the next one!! :’’) love u all sm <3

- ellie 💕

➸ you're all caught up!

additional notes: please do not ask me for updates (read rules); also, i have decided to officially close the taglist! i’m so sorry, but it’s getting a little too much for me to keep track of :’’) and apparently i have to manually input the tags as well as make separate posts to include everyone because of the tag limit, and it’s too stressful for me lol. i will continue to tag the people who i have been tagging so far (if you were tagged in this chapter or in my separate extended taglist post, i will continue to tag you in future chapters), but if you were not able to make the taglist, i do post on ao3 at the same time as tumblr, and ao3 has a subscription feature where you can get emails for updates! i think that would be helpful for anyone wanting to keep up w the story. sorry!!

taglist:

@megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed

@wynney @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

@phoenix-eclipses @who-can-touch-my-boob @mo0nforme @reagan707 @lost-resonance

@foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress

@tsukikourito @getitsatoru @gabriiiiiiii @kissofife @tiredflame132

[penkura]

knowing [7/8]

Summary: Sanji knew you were the one the moment he met you.

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

Warnings: None really. Normal One Piece stuff I guess.

Note: The end is near!! Wano my beloved, I love Sanji in Wano sm. Another shorter one, compared to six and eight, but we're in the home stretch!! Next chapter is the finale and I hope it will be worth it!

Taglist:

@jzkeisuke | @arcanumlaw

[Ch. 1] ● [Ch. 2] ● [Ch. 3] ● [Ch. 4] ● [Ch. 5] ● [Ch. 6]

Your arrival in Wano started with all of you separated from Luffy, navigating your way through a forested area, hoping to find a town. Sanji kept a hold of your hand the whole time, refusing to let you wander off or get left behind somehow. Of course you weren't like Zoro with your sense of direction, Sanji just wanted to be sure you didn't get separated from the group (mostly from him).

Once you did find Luffy, Kin'emon got you all up to speed on what they had been doing. You were to help recruit more Samurai and ninja for the raid on Onigashima in about two weeks. You'd have to take on a role in the city to keep a low profile, while passing out the cards with the insignia that Kin'emon had put together. He provided disguises with his technique, Nami's being a lot more showy than she liked so she had to adjust it, but you were quick to try and reject whatever he tried to dress you in.

"No no, I think I'm fine with what I'm wearing. I'm a kunoichi already."

"While yes you are, it would be better if you could take on another role for the time being!"

"Then she'll stay with me!" Sanji nodded, putting his arms around your shoulders, Franky and Usopp both still confused since you hadn't had the chance to tell them yet, "We could pretend we're married and running a stall together!"

"Hey Sanji," Usopp was a bit concerned, but did take note of how you didn't push Sanji off or anything, "Maybe she wants to go help Nami or we could see if she can help Franky get the mansion plans. There's no need for you guys to pretend you're a couple!"

"We won't be pretending we're a couple! Just that we're married! We're already together so it doesn't matter!"

"...wait what?"

Realizing what he said, Sanji blushed a bit before hiding his face in your shoulder, making you pat him on his head. You found it funny how he seemed to become so shy about it, maybe because you two hadn't gotten to actually sit and tell Usopp and Franky.

"Poor, poor boyfriend. I don't mind pretending we're married and helping Sanji."

"B…boyfriend?!"

"Yes, Sanji and I are dating."

Franky and Usopp both shouted at you, asking when that happened and being surprised when you said it'd been about two years. Telling you it was 'super' you were together, Franky started crying while Usopp couldn't believe how you kept such a secret for so long, asking who else knew.

"Everyone. You guys were the last two we had to tell."

"Whaaaat??"

+!+

After everything had been settled and you allowed Kin'emon to give you a disguise that let you blend in like a regular Wano housewife, you helped Sanji and Usopp figure out what kind of food stall Sanji would run. The lone soba stand caught your attention, and you noticed Sanji was watching them carefully, which caused you to say his name and get him out of his thoughts. He'd been watching closely after a young girl and her mother had gone up and gotten bowls themselves.

"Hey, do me a favor. Go get in line and get a bowl of that soba."

"Uh, ok, babe, I can do that."

You stood in line for a while, Sanji and Usopp off to the side talking while you waited, until the stand owners stopped taking orders just before you got up to the front. When you went back over to them, you latched back onto Sanji's arm and apologized that you couldn't get a bowl but he gave you a smile.

"Nah, don't worry. I got the information I needed, thank you."

Confused, you still smiled back and nodded, the three of you returning to where you'd be staying during your time in Wano. You'd all had dinner, thanks to Sanji of course, before turning in for the night, and you absolutely refused to go with anyone but Sanji. Might as well really play the part of husband and wife, was your excuse when Nami said you should go with her, Shinobu, and Carrot. She rolled her eyes at you and just said not to go making any babies or anything, causing you to turn bright, bright red and threaten to revoke her honorary kunoichi status while she laughed at you.

"You could've gone with the girls, it would've been fine."

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around Sanji while he did the same to you, pulling you even closer to himself.

"I'd much rather stay with you~"

His turned bright red, no matter how many times you share a bed, it still made Sanji so nervous. He still didn’t believe that you were real, that you loved him and wanted him, he’d never had anyone return his feelings and affections before you. Maybe it was crazy, to think so much about marrying you already, when you were technically his first and only girlfriend, but it seemed like you had the same thoughts, especially after the whole fiasco with his family and the Big Mom pirates.

He didn’t want to ever put you through emotional distress like that again.

“Hey, uh—”

Sanji tried to say something, but instead, he heard you snoring already, very lightly. It made him breathe in relief, with a smile on his face. You really helped him out that day with getting his soba stand ready, you must’ve been so wiped out.

“Sleep well, mon amour.”

I’ll ask you another day.

+!+

With the raid on Onigashima just days away, you and Sanji had found less time to spend with each other during waking hours. You’ve all moved elsewhere to prepare for the raid, Kin’emon and the other Samurai helping you where they could as they prepared too. Shinobu and Raizo had taken a liking to you since you were a kunoichi yourself, both being surprised but impressed to hear you were from an offshoot of Wano, asking how the village was doing and making plans to go there once Wano’s borders were opened.

Two nights before the raid, Sanji finally worked out some time for the two of you to spend and relax, he made a dinner for just the two of you, that Luffy tried multiple times to sneak a bite from until Nami pulled him away and gave him the dinner Sanji made for all of them. The last time Nami had to drag him away made you laugh, while Sanji just rolled his eyes.

“Bottomless pit, that’s what he is.”

“We’ve known that for two years now.”

You giggled, leaning into Sanji’s arm with your head on his shoulder, causing him to kiss the top of your head before you sighed happily.

“I’m glad to have this time with you…everything’s going to be insane day after tomorrow.”

“Yeah…but it’ll be okay. We’ll free this place and then be on our way again.”

“I know, it’s just…getting there is going to be a lot.”

Sanji knew you were probably worried about him, honestly about everyone, but he was the only one you were expressing those worries to. He wanted you to be relaxed and to know that everything would be perfectly fine. Robin had talked to him about how you were seeming more worried as time went on, as the raid got closer, and he got an idea of how to maybe calm you down, but it might also make you even more worried, he wasn’t sure of what to do.

Do I ask her now…? Is this a weird time to propose?

Before he even had a chance to say anything, the two of you were being called by Usopp for something about the raid, making you sigh with a slightly sad smile on your face before looking at Sanji.

“Duty calls. But,” you stopped and kissed him before getting up to go see what was going on, both of you smiling after, “This was lovely, Sanji, you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“Stop, I’m just taking care of my beautiful girlfriend…we’ll do this again, okay?”

“Of course. I love you, Sanji~”

“I love you too, my dear.”

Later. I’ll ask her later, once everything is settled here.

+!+

"No I…I didn't do anything!"

"You're the only one who could have!"

The geishas threw things at Sanji to get him out of the room, it barely phased him as he did so, wondering what on earth just happened. He had no idea! He'd been running off from Queen and the other Animal Pirates to get his thoughts in order over the oddities he'd noticed about himself recently, so lost in thought he didn't have any clue what caused this one geisha to go flying.

Though, his greatest fear now was that he had caused her to become hurt. Maybe it really was the only thing that made sense. Was he losing himself to that Germa science raid suit?

"Let me see that Germa science, Judge's son!"

Queen kept up his attempts to rile Sanji in order to see the raid suit technology, which Sanji kept denying. This time he was still so lost in thought, wondering what you, over anyone else, would have thought seeing what just happened.

Or worse…what if I hurt [Y/N] next time?

If he hurt you because of those genetic abilities, Sanji would never forgive himself. He'd never forgive his father or Germa for anything anyway, but should their science cause him to harm the most important person in his life, all that blame would fall on his own shoulders. He'd only meant to test the raid suit, not become dependent upon it or let it awaken the monstrous abilities his brothers had from the start. He never thought that would be possible after Reiju explained why he was so different from the rest of them.

Tell me, Luffy….which would you prefer? The regular flesh-and-blood me who turns into a helpless wreck when facing a woman, or a cruel emotionless warrior of science who can kill without discrimination if you give the order? Which of these would be more useful to you, as king of the pirates?

Despite his thoughts wondering if Luffy would somehow be better served by Germa's science, Sanji's thoughts also drifted to you as he retrieved the raid suit from his pocket. Which version would you prefer? Someone willing to kill anyone without qualms if so directed, or would you still prefer the emotional mess of a man that doted on you and had your respect for sticking to his principles of not fighting a woman?

"I've made up my mind."

"Ooh," Queen's excitement over seeing the raid suit was quite obvious, "is that your raid suit?!"

"I have to assume that this thing caused the science already in my body to awaken and activate somehow," Sanji dropped the raid suit to the ground, lifting his foot while Queen watched him stomp on the canister, "Well, I can't do anything about that! But I can say no more! I won't become a Germa soldier!"

"Aww what a waste!! I wanted to see you transform!"

Pulling out a baby transponder snail, calling Zoro and letting him argue with him briefly about his reasoning for slipping it into his band, Sanji hated making such a request of Zoro of all people.

"We're gonna win this but…after the finisher if I'm not…in my right mind, I need you to kill me."

"All right, fine! I'll kill you after this is over, whatever that means!"

"And I…need you to tell [Y/N]--"

"I'm not saying anything sappy!"

There was no time to argue or fight, so Sanji just nodded. He figured it'd be a long shot anyway.

"At least I'll have something to look forward to after this. So don't die until then!"

"Thanks."

"Hey," they were short on time, but Zoro decided he'd say one more thing, "I'll tell her."

"Appreciate it."

+!+

"Oh my gosh, Sanji, what happened?!"

You had finished helping Usopp and Nami get Otama somewhere safe, and returned back into the castle to search for anyone else that needed help or to find the rest of your comrades. After finding most everyone, though you had no idea where Zoro was really and knew Luffy was on the roof, you ended up finding a room with some geishas who were tending to Sanji's injuries. You were instantly on your knees beside him asking the geisha girl next to him what happened.

"He…he fought and defeated Master Queen!! He protected me after we accused him of attacking me!"

You might have to ask him about that last bit later, but you were so relieved to hear Sanji was all right, he was just injured but was being treated by the geishas.

Of course you protected her, you sweet man..

Leaning over, you gently kissed his forehead which surprised the geisha girl, Osome, you'd later learn.

"You're so amazing. I love you, Sanji."

"O-Oh, are you two…?"

You smiled at Osome with a nod. "Yes! He's the love of my life! Thank you for taking care of him!"

"I-It's the least I could do after he saved Chuji!"

The little mouse squeaked and made you smile softly. Osome explained everything to you, while you stayed by Sanji for the moment, brushing his hair back out of his face and holding his hand. After you heard the whole story, knowing Sanji wasn't at fault for Osome being hurt and that he'd beaten Queen, you stood up when you heard some shouting about the fire.

"Can you stay with him for me? I'm going to go help some others!"

"Y-Yes!"

"Thank you!"

You ran out of the room, promising yourself and Sanji that you two would get some time alone again soon, and you'd tell him how proud you were of him.

Soon, I swear.

[dreadsuitsamus]

cw: smoking, choso x reader

i was just thinking about my first kiss and how it was with somebody i now hate and wish i never met. this kiss itself was short and nothing about the buildup was special or sweet or anything. it was a nothing kiss, and even back then i knew it wasn't good. and then i got to thinking about being at a gathering with some friends, choso being one of them, and one conversation leading to another until you're all telling stories about your first kiss.

it's your turn to go, and when you grimace rather than fondly reminisce like the others had, everyone notes it. "mine sucked." your answer, miniscule and somehow giving all the details, is quickly accepted and the focus is turned to the next in the circle.

choso's blushing, his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose dusted pink, and he doesn't meet anybody's eyes as he explains his first kiss. it was an accident, they hadn't meant to kiss at all, but some mixed signals and coincidental body language led them straight to it. it was nice during, though terribly awkward after the fact.

you can't help but use your friend's embarrassment to ease your spirits and laugh with the rest of the group. playfully bumping your shoulder to his, you giggle. "noted. don't ever try to open a door for you."

choso groans and covers his face, falling onto his back while your friends get another laugh going. leaning on your forearm as the next story gets going, you poke at choso's hands that still hide his handsome blush. "ease up, cho. it's not that bad."

"it was pretty bad." he mumbles, peeking through his fingers at you.

looking away from those pretty eyes, you pick at his sweater. "couldn't be any worse than mine. at least the person you kissed really liked you."

choso sighs softly and his hands come down from his face. his fingers graze your chin and jaw as he encourages you to look at him again. not needing a ton of convincing, you're met with almost sad amber eyes. "it was with him, wasn't it?"

nodding, you look away again and choso sits back up. him. none of your friends use his name, ever, but you all know exactly who they're talking about when they say that. you're grateful he isn't spoken of much and that there's no love for one of their former friends remaining, but the scars on your heart and perhaps even to your soul remain. you'll never forget that ex. how could you? you gave him your all.

"i'm gonna go get some air." you announce after a while, and choso ends up following you to the back porch after a moment. it's cold and dark out, the light by the door only illuminating but so much with that old bulb.

he sits beside you, his ass thoroughly chilled already by the concrete steps. tugging a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, he feels around for his lighter. he almost starts to panic, but your laughter has his eyes narrowing with an unimpressed glower. "very funny. give me my lighter back."

ignoring his murmur of "how did you even get it from my pocket? when??" once you've given it back and allowed him to light the cigarette, you rest your cheek against your fist with a slump in your shoulders. choso's hand rests on your back and he soothingly rubs at it, doing his best to ease you. "hey, relax. there's gonna be other first kisses."

"they're not gonna make me forget the first one, though."

"okay sure, you won't forget. nobody forgets the first. but... there's gonna be a better first. one that's good, one that will make you smile and happy to think about even if the relationship never pans out. and that can be your first good kiss story. nobody's gotta know the difference."

"i haven't even kissed anybody since him." you murmur quietly. it's been a couple years since that disaster went to the wayside, but you haven't found anyone you're willing to take another plunge with yet.

choso sets the cigarette down beside him, his long fingers touching your jaw once more. this time, though, he leans in and presses his cold lips to yours. he tastes like cigarettes initially, but when your arms come around his neck and it deepens, there's a sweetness there that you can only equate to freshly-picked strawberries.

"there," choso's eyes are still closed when you part, and your foreheads press together. he can't see the way you look at him, with admiration and adoration and nothing but pure love, but he can feel it. "your first good kiss. and with somebody that really does like you."

"cho..." your lips tingle as he checks the time on his watch. the hour ticks to midnight, and he kisses you a second time. this one is longer, sweet as a stolen peach and even better than the last, if it's possible. you're light as air and it's those big arms of your longtime friend that keeps you from floating off into space.

there's a bit of a squelch when you part this time, heavy breaths mixed together as your lungs burn. licking those reddened, kiss-swollen lips, choso pulls back and picks up his burning cigarette. "and that's your first kiss of today. and i'll kiss you tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. you'll never have a bad first kiss again, as long as i can help it."

biting your lip through a grin that would reveal all your true feelings to him, you tuck your chilly hands into your sweater sleeves and stand up to head inside. "thanks, cho... um..."

choso stands tall, his hand finding your hip as he plants another kiss onto your lips. "your first good kiss standing up?" his lame explanation is accepted, and you cup his sharp jaw in your hands as you resume the smooch.

once you're back in the house and warming up, choso flicks the cigarette butt and lights another. there's so many firsts he's got to cover! the first in your room, your car, before you go to work and after, and of course every day of every week, month and year... everyone remembers their first, and he intends to be all you can think of the next time somebody asks about your first kiss.

[stxrvel]

plot twist (1)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, fargiling a lot and some self-deprecation. no proofread. this is just silly writing, we're on the safe zone for now. a/n. hi guys! i was gonna wait a little bit but i'm really excited about this one so you're gonna have earlier! thank u all for the support and i really hope you enjoy this 🫶🏻

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You met them all at school. Each with their own ambitions, their different dreams, but so similar in the nature of their core. It was almost funny how everyone with their dissimilar personalities fit so strangely well into one school group. There were times when you could still remember how you used to tell them that all together they could rule the world.

Maybe that's why you didn't see them years ago.

Jeon Jungkook was an idol. There wasn't an hour in the day or a screen in the city where you weren't watching him. He was so popular around the world that you suspected that not even one person didn't know him. His voice was on every radio station, on every cell phone of the people you passed on the street and on the buses, his face on the TV sets with the last interview he had done, as if it were a national achievement. You even saw him in restaurants, chefs naming dishes after him, production companies releasing collaborations with his company. There wasn't an object in that city that didn't have Jungkook's face on its forehead. It was impossible to escape him.

He was closely followed by Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, two of the most promising models of the last decade, a national pride hand in hand with Jungkook. You didn't see them as often as Jungkook, but they still swept the international public and there was hardly anyone who didn't talk about them. Invited to catwalks in Paris, choosing their contracts and collaborations, wearing the most expensive clothes that you wouldn't even think of buying, wearing beautiful matching jewelry, expensive enough that a single outfit from each of them could buy you five houses in the small town they all came from. Taehyung and Jimin were known as the Siamese twins of modeling. Wherever one went, the other always had to be. Their exclusivity was incomparable.

In levels of recognition, Min Yoongi followed them in line. A great rapper who was well received by the general populace. Yoongi had managed to captivate a large audience thanks to his incredible command of the production of his music and his ease and gift for writing his own lyrics. His growth was gradual, but when he touched the sky he never went down again. His popularity was not low even though his presentation to the public was not that high compared to the other three. Still, Yoongi had enough charisma and talent to stand out, especially when his fans were obsessed with highlighting the duality he had when he was on stage and when he did those seventy question interviews with Vogue or whatever… that had made him one of the best rappers of his generation and probably of the last century.

Kim Namjoon was the owner of the company that made Jungkook's debut and welcomed Yoongi with total creative freedom. If he were not solely focused on music, he would surely also be Taehyung and Jimin's agent. Namjoon had inherited a company from his parents, but the success he had turned it into over the past few years, into one of the most profitable businesses in the country, was entirely to his credit and effort. His popularity was also high, because everyone said he was too handsome to be a mere businessman; not knowing, of course, that everything involved in maintaining such a business required much more than a pretty face. Of Namjoon the public didn't know too much, not probably like the other guys and you, if he was still half the person he was before.

Hand in hand with Namjoon were Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin. Hoseok was and still is to this day a national pride as he passionately played tennis since school and turned professional, reaching to participate in major international tournaments representing his country and winning one of them. However, two years after that great feat, an accident involving one of his hands prevented him from continuing to play. No one knows exactly what happened during the more than a year and a half that he almost completely disappeared from the public eye, but when he returned with his huge smile he announced that he would dedicate himself to dance, opening his own academy throughout the center of the city. Although he was not a recurrent teacher, his academy was one of the best in the country, and of course, it was financed by Namjoon's company. At one time Hoseok became Namjoon's associate.

Seokjin, on the other hand, was the one who kept the lowest profile. He was a great doctor, cardiovascular if you were not mistaken. In addition to being an amazing surgeon, his research projects were the ones everyone looked forward to the most at the end of each year. You didn't know much about the subject, but he was almost like the guru of medicine in his field specifically. The only reason he was so much in the public eye being a doctor was because he was regularly seen in the company of Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi. The four of them made up the holy grail of dilfs.

They had all had incredibly successful careers and you were glad that they had been able to accomplish everything they once talked about on the rooftop of Namjoon's house, with sneaky steps so their parents wouldn't scold them when they sneaked out in the wee hours of the morning.

You didn't know exactly what it was - or you didn't want to acknowledge it - that succumbed inside you every time you saw or heard about any of them on the news or on social media. Because yeah, no matter how low media exposure any of them had, always the faces of all seven appeared on your TikTok every week.

It was amazing how they had all moved on and you… well, you-

“Weren't you supossed to leave?”

You lifted your head from your phone, trying to hide it with trembling hands as you let Taehyung's face next to Jungkook's plunge into the darkness of your apron pocket.

“Huh?”

You tried to look distracted, returning your gaze between your boss and the notes next to the cash register. She had a soft gaze, between amused and sisterly. Her brown eyes shifted from your eyes and hot cheeks to the notes you held upside down in your hands, pretending to work as if she herself hadn't seen you completely frozen and gawking at the pair of the country's great casanovas.

“I thought you were leaving earlier today,” your boss shifted, settling her trench coat and long brown strap bag over her shoulder. At that moment she was leaving to walk around to each of the locations she had in town, just to do follow-ups. “Don't tell me you forgot.”

You followed her index finger until it landed on the red circle you had drawn on the calendar placed in your little cubicle a couple of weeks ago, with hearts surrounding it and exclamation points. Yes you remembered, of course you remembered, but at the point where you were at the time no one was going to miss you if you didn't attend.

“I didn't forget…” your voice trailed off as you looked down, your fingers finding the tips of the pages more entertaining than your boss's worried expression.

“y/n, you asked me to leave earlier this day from four months ago,” her high-pitched voice echoed in your head, reminding you how excited you had been a while ago for this day to come. “You can't just give up like that. Come on. You still have time.”

You began to shake your head, releasing your grip on the woman who was looking at you with the same worried eyes of a mother. Your boss had been one of the most encouraging people you'd ever had in your life, besides the handful of friends you had stored in your phone's contacts.

“It was a bust last time. I don't plan on going through that again.”

“But hadn't you told me afterwards that you weren't going to let that stop you? You said… what was it? I can't drown in this glass of water.”

You grudgingly resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Really you of four months ago was a deluded fool.

“I had no idea about life at the time.”

Your boss clicked her tongue, dropping her hands on your shoulders, giving little squeezes whose familiarity stole your breath.

“I'll leave Patrick waiting for you in case you change your mind.”

You shook your head, evading the memories. The man outside the store shook his head in greeting as the two of you turned to look at him, as if he knew you were talking about him.

“Don't miss this opportunity because you're afraid. It may change your life.”

You watched her leave, the clacking of her low heels drawing the attention of everyone in the store, earning every possible stare as she did every time she entered any room. Her chauffeur, Patrick, greeted her with a similar nod of his head as before and stood leaning against the black car parked right where he could get a perfect view of your nervous face.

You, unlike the great and successful lives of your high school friends whose company you still used to miss like a fool, had not had such a great and successful life.

You were a writer. Well, an attempted writer and, worse, part-time. The other part-time was this job behind the cash register at the largest pastry chain in the country. Or sometimes as a waitress, it depended on the day. There was good pay, mind you, at least it allowed you to make up for the losses you took every time you tried to sell a book and then had to market it on your own, only to have five purchases once every seven months and three of them were from your parents and brother. The other two were from your friends.

Four months ago you had been invited to a sort of convention for readers, how they had found you and why? You had no idea, but the idea of being considered in that way drove you crazy at the time. You were so excited that you had more copies of your failed books printed and prepared your booth several days in advance to present them to the horde of people who, you were sure at the time, would come to meet you.

Only one person came by to ask you about the bathroom.

You never recovered from that.

Even with all that failure, that same day you were invited to another convention and, for a while, you were excited to attend. Everyone goes through those kinds of bumps at some point in their life, right? You have to work hard to earn that kind of fame, you kept telling yourself. But as time went on and your networks didn't grow and your videos didn't get more than ten views, or fifty views at most in a week, you began to lose that spark of excitement you held for your dream. Your parents had never turned your back on what you wanted to do, but it was too demotivating and discouraging to have spent so many years at it, so many headaches and tears invested for you to just keep losing and losing money.

That was why you were sure you wouldn't go to that convention if you had to go through that mockery again. You hadn't even bothered to go and fix your booth so surely they already knew you weren't going.

“Have you seen them yet??????”

The female voice coming from the wine cellar made you jump up on your chair.

“Jesus, Yuna, you almost killed me here.”

“I don't care! We could die right now for all we care!”

“Wow, speak for yourself.”

“Haven't you seen theeeem?”

Yuna held up her phone, the screen at full brightness blinding you for a moment. The blurry dots you saw from the proximity of the device told you nothing, as your friend jumped excitedly beside you.

“God, hold still.”

Grabbing her wrist, you leveled the phone to see her TikTok and a picture of three men.

Namjoon, Yoongi and Jungkook coming out of a building. From Namjoon's building.

“They look amazing, don't they? They just came out! That means their car will pass in front of us any minute!”

Yes, Namjoon's building was just a few blocks away from your boss's place. In fact, your boss knew him and many times they would prepare large orders for parties at his company. You had never seen him set foot in this place or any other in the country, but every time he went to celebrate something he had to dial your boss's personal number and you would work until your backs burned because everything had to be perfect for the big businessman.

“Are you going out to greet them or what?” you frowned, letting go of her wrist and returning your gaze to the notebook next to the cash register.

Yuna let out an excited exclamation.

“Ohhhh~, should I? Should I?”

You grabbed her by the collar of her uniform as she tried to pass behind you.

“We're still on business hours.”

“I'm sure Sol wouldn't mind,” her almost heart pupil eyes stared down the street, her hands moving in front of her like she was a zombie. She almost seemed possessed by her fanaticism. Though of course you didn't blame her, if you didn't know any of the seven knights of the underworld you would surely be as excited as she was.

“Don't put words in her mouth. You'd better tell me if the lady's batch of cakes is out yet-”

Commotion erupted throughout the room. You almost saw in slow motion how all the people in the premises got up and running in the direction of the glass doors when you heard the screams coming from far away.

“They're comiiiiiiiiiiiing!!!”

Sometimes you wondered how they dealt with this level of fanaticism.

The ground almost shook with the amount of people running after a black car, where the three men who were causing such a furor so early that day were most likely to be, and the commotion was not tiny inside the venue where the screams erupted.

Having to deal with that on a daily basis would easily turn someone into a hater. Not that you were one... strictly...

“God, for a moment we breathed the same air,” Yuna plopped down on the table, her body doubled over with her eyes lost. You resisted the urge to smack her forehead.

“Their car windows were up.”

“So you saw them, right?????”

“Argh.”

You had to drag her back to work as the excitement in the store dissipated. You attended to another batch of consumers while Yuna fixed the display case and, in a moment of lapse you could almost tell, her back suddenly straightened and she turned to look at you with her eyes a little too wide. You passed the change to the man in front of you, who barely sent you a confused glance before continuing to claim his order at the other corner of the store.

“What's wrong with you?”

“You shouldn't be here.”

“Don't say that with that face. You look creepy,” you pulled out the bill to tuck it under the cash register as Yuna approached, leaving the frightened face behind.

“Wasn't that convention today?”

You sighed. “Yes.”

“Then why aren't you there?”

“Do I look like I want to be there?”

“Y/n! It's a great opportunity. You should-”

“A great opportunity for what, to be a laughingstock again?”

Yuna pursed her lips, looking almost pained that you would remember in that way the experience that was supposed to change your life. She had been one of the ones who had accompanied you to set up the booth and she was sure she had never seen you smile so much during all the time the two of you had known each other. Yuna was aware of how over time you seemed to have lost interest in this new convention, but she didn't think you would finally decide not to go.

On the sly, she had prepared your booth with the help of your mother and Sol, your boss.

“You were never a laughingstock! Don't say that,” Yuna patted your forearm harder than necessary. “Besides, I recently logged some purchases on the site! How do you-?”

“I know it was you and mom,” you raised your voice to interrupt her, stepping archly away from her body.

“What the… Of course not, ha, ha!”

“You're the only fools who would write down celebrity names to register purchases. Besides, the addresses don't even exist.”

“Fuck, I told her that wouldn't work.”

Under your heavy gaze, Yuna had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Okay, I'm sorry! We wanted to motivate you to go to the convention.”

“Can't you just let me do my own thing? If I don't want to go, I won't go.”

“Even if you leave Patrick waiting there?”

You followed his gaze, watching the man pull an umbrella out of the trunk of the car as the slightest breeze brushed against his body and the water droplets were smaller than a dew that the two of you had to squint to see them on the glass of the entrance.

“Whatever it is, I'm not going.”

“y/n…” Yuna pleaded, coming closer with her puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

“y/n, please…”

“No and stop doing that. You look weird.”

“I don't,” Yuna pulled away to frown at you. “I once heard you agreed with Seoyeon about my puppy face being cute.”

“I never agreed with that!”

“Seojun told me so!”

“Your first mistake is believing Seojun.”

“Do you blame me if the reason is your demonstration of love for me?”

“That was your second mistake.”

“Y/n!”

_____________________

That day you arrived home a little later than usual. Since Patrick had been waiting for you all day in the sun and mini rain and refused to let you take a cab on direct instructions from Sol, you asked him to take a ride downtown so you could buy the teokkboki your mom loved and incidentally bought some for him, even though he didn't want to accept it at first.

“y/n, dear, how did it go?”

Your parents were in the living room when you arrived playing Go. Your father left the table when he saw you carrying the bag of food and came over to take it from you.

“What does our little writer bring here, a contract by any chance?”

You watched out of the corner of your eye as your mother tried to get your father's attention by wildly waving her fan, while the man rummaged through the bag to find something warm and delicious smelling.

“Oh, it's teokkboki.”

Your mother stopped waving her arm to stare at the bag with sparkling eyes.

“The ones from the center? From Mrs. Wang?”

You nodded in her direction, taking a seat in their midst on the floor. Your parents started a pitched battle to see who would break the bag first to try the first batch of teokkboki and you could only watch them with a smile on your face. The day may have been difficult, but being home at the end of the day always made you feel so much better.

Amidst laughter and anecdotes, trying to avoid the elephant in the room because you knew your mother's furtive glances weren't for nothing, the three of you ate teokkboki until you were bursting at the seams. You organized the kitchen with your father while your mother grumbled from the living room whatever he said about her. You watched the three of you favorite soap opera on the fixed schedule and finally got ready for bed.

With your body more relaxed and lighter, you let yourself sink into the softness of the sheets, completely ignoring the messages Yuna had sent earlier and the stupid questions your brother asked at the most inopportune moments.

How do I unclog a bath?

Do I add salt to the rice???

Where do I get the kimchi mom makes?????

His independence was probably one of the worst things that could happen. You being the older sister thought you would leave home first. Even according to your twelve year old diary, you should have been married by then or at least planning your amazing, mega giant wedding, complete with helicopters and puppy dogs carrying drinks through the reception. You didn't know what kind of crazy dreams you had when you were younger, but up to that point you hadn't been able to fulfill any of your inner child's desires except to study for a career you were passionate about.

Still, what good had that done in the end? Maybe you should've listened to your grandparents to study medicine. Maybe your parents should've been a little more conservative instead of libertarian, which your grandparents always complained about when they had the chance. If you were a disgrace to anyone in the family, it was to them.

Ah, what a long day.

You didn't know at what point you fell asleep, but the incessant sound of your phone vibrating next to your pillow woke you up. With a grunt, you moved your hands to put the device in front of one of your half-open eyes to find Yuna on caller ID. Your eyes moved upward.

It was one in the morning!

“What the fuck are you doing calling at this hour? It better be an emergency because-”

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING THAT YOU DON'T CHECK YOUR MESSAGES?”

“WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT? IT'S ONE IN THE MORNING! WHY WOULD I BE DOING ANYTHING ELSE BUT SLEEPING?”

“I'VE BEEN TEXTING YOU FOR A WHILE NOW, Y/N!”

“YUNA HOW CAN I NOT FUCKING SLEEP-?”

“Well, whatever!”

You let out an exasperated snort, giving her time to say what she had to say.

“You're going to fall on your ass.”

“I'm lying down.”

“Your books have sold a thousand copies in the last hour!”

Silence. Absorbing silence…

“Yuna, if you really woke me up to play a fucking prank on me I'm going all the way to your house to pull out every single one of your hairs with a fucking tweezer.”

“First of all, gross. Second of all, I'm not kidding! Get on your fucking Instagram! What's worse is that's not the most shocking news. Well… depends on how you look at it.”

“Yuna, I don't think I'm following you.”

“Fucking Kim Taehyung was at the reader convention and he took a picture of your books and UPLOADED IT TO HIS INSTAGRAM STORIES!!!!! AN HOUR AGO! The damn shopping notifications woke me up and I think I took too much time trying to process what was going on because they already tripled!”

“What the fuck are you talking about, did you start smoking weed?”

“Ugh, why are you so insufferable? Just look at fucking Instagram!”

You didn't want to believe Yuna, but a part of you was vibrating in anticipation. You'd already seen her text messages, her exclamations and voice notes, you'd barely processed the images she'd sent you. You logged on to Instagram. The first thing you noticed was the exorbitant amount of notifications and direct messages.

You had to search for Taehyung's account because you weren't following him.

There was the colorful arc around his profile picture. The story.

You clicked on his picture on the screen.

Your books were all over his story, with his hand holding one of them.

It jumped out at you that there was a stand of your books that you had no idea where it had come from.

A description loomed between the image.

One of the best fantasy books I've read in recent years. And by one of the best writers I've ever met in my life.

Your user was next to the description. You had no idea how fucking Kim Taehyung had gotten your user when it wasn't even something related to your name. You hadn't even uploaded pictures of yourself once in all the time that account had been open.

“Did you see it?? Can you see I wasn't lying?”

With Yuna's malevolent laughter in the background, you felt your mind escape into an unknown mental space.

“You're going to be rich!!! And I'm going to meet Kim Taehyung!”

Your mind was racing a thousand miles an hour trying to make sense of what your eyes couldn't credit. His story was replaying on your screen. So many things you could say and just…

“What the fuck?”

--

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7

[corrodedbisexual]

The original plushie

Steddie | G | ~4.1k | AO3 link

This fanart of Eddie sleeping with a bunch of stuffed toys by @baleful-blurbs infected my brain and refused to leave until this ridiculous fluffy thing got written 😭 Please make sure to reblog those wonderful sketches to support the artist who inspired the plushie silliness♥️

Featuring: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, seriously beware of cavities, Light Angst, Plushies, Childhood Memories, POV Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Good Parent Wayne Munson, Requited Love, Cuddling, Getting Together, Boys In Love

The mortifying ordeal of Eddie's crush discovering his secret plushie cuddle nest turns out to be not so mortifying after all. Steve even starts borrowing said plushies to take back home with him; some time later, Eddie finds out why.

Snippet under the cut

“Who’s this?” Steve asks, grinning as he pokes at the teddy’s ridiculous smiley face. 

“Oh. That’s… that’s Mr. Boogers.” Eddie huffs and rolls his eyes. “Please don’t ask.”

Still grinning, Steve turns to him. “Well, now you know I gotta.” 

Eddie groans, rubbing a hand across his flustered face, and figures he might as well tell the story now that he’s dug his own grave. “He was, uh… kinda defective from the start, there were some stitches loose around his nose and there was stuffing coming out of it, like… well…”

Steve giggles. “Boogers. Gotcha.” 

“Yeah. Wayne grumbled about it and wanted to ask for a different one, but I was already in love with this one and clung to him and refused to trade. Cos like, you know how plushies of the same type are supposed to be identical but they’re really not ? And one of them has that perfect face and the others just seem off?” 

Eddie blushes, thinking now would be the moment he finally gets ridiculed for being twenty years old and having strong opinions on plushie faces of all things, but Steve just smiles and nods.

“Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. I once spilled some gouache on a Mickey Mouse I owned and instead of washing him, mom just bought me a new one of the same series.” Steve sighs. “It was obvious 'cos his eyes were a little closer together and his smile wasn’t crooked to the left. I knew he wasn’t the same Mickey.” 

Again, Eddie’s heart aches for little Steve, like pretty much any time the boy reveals stories from his childhood in a tone too lighthearted for the words spoken, in Eddie’s opinion. Rich people really don’t value anything, huh. (With Steve being the obvious exception.)

“Yeah, see? You get it!” Eddie exclaims, pointing at Steve and putting more excitement into the words than he feels. Mostly, he just feels relieved and pleasantly surprised at how unexpectedly he and Steve managed to bond over their shared fondness for their childhood toys. “So anyway, Wayne relented and we took this funny guy home, my uncle patched him up, but the nickname stuck. Mr. Boogers. Boogie for short.”

Steve laughs again, but there’s nothing malicious about it as he looks back to the teddy in his lap and flicks his ear.

“Nice to meet you, Boogie,” he says with an affectionate smile that makes Eddie want to burrow his face into the mattress and giggle like an idiot. 

And maybe scream a little, because what the fuck. It should be illegal for your crush to talk cute to your goddamn childhood plushies.  

Whole fic on AO3

[lotusarchon]

loverboy(s) (sun wukong + macaque x reader

content warnings: reader is IMPLIED female, second pov (you/your), foul language, minor threats, mini headcanon for macaque

author notes: to that one anon, happy birthday! i apologize for taking forever but i hope you liked this! its a bit funny seeing a few people who share the same birth month as myself (my fave lesbian genshin impact writer also shares the same birth month with me YAYY). i hope you had a wonderful day today, nonnie <3

“I told you. The cake goes on that side, fucking dumbass.”

“Who the FUCK are you calling dumbass? No, no no, come here. Come here and face me, you snarky little bitch. Come over here right now and tell me to my face I'm a dumbass. You wanna lose your other eye, huh? You want me to beat the shit out of you, is that it!?”

You mentally sigh as the monkey turns away, obviously not in the mood to actually pick a fight. Of course, it could also be because MK had begged the two monkeys to just get along if only for today, just for your sake, which, you won't lie, you did appreciate the sentiment but …

Holy fuck they hated each other's guts.

You won't deny being surprised that they had bothered to show up. MK had insisted you hold a party for your special day, and well. You can't exactly say no to the most stubborn person you'll ever meet. You'd think the party would be small and mainly of the Monkie Kid crew, but god no. 

That noodle boy invited everyone he knew.

And I mean, everyone. Even the little Bai He was here, playing with Mo.

And of course, the Great Sage Equal To Heaven and the amazing Six Eared Macaque too.

You almost contemplated making a run for it when Macaque approached you, but Pigsy gave you such a scolding to not break MK's fragile heart (pft), and so, you were trapped in a social conversation.

(Oh, the horrors.)

“Nice party you have here.”

“Thanks.”

…

Yeah, I forgot to mention; you two suck at making a good conversation. Well, not so much you than Macaque mainly, who tried, you know, he really does, but inevitably just sucks.

But that's fine. Macaque's quiet most of the time and it's a little comforting. You don't like speaking much anyway, so it works out for the both of you. A bit.

You can't say the same for Wukong though. He's…well. He's certainly very outgoing. The minute he shows up he goes straight for the food (Pigsy is not gonna be happy about that), and then he finds his way to you as well.

“Hey there birthday girl.” Wukong gently pinches your cheek. He smiles warmly, and you can't help but return his smile with your own. “Nice party you've got going on. How come you didn't invite me yourself, mmh? Too shy to meet the awesome Great Sage?”

Before you can reply, Macaque scoffs, “MK invited most of us, don't be an ass.”

Wukong sighs. He glances at his ‘friend’ for a minute, and glances back at you.

“I can't believe MK invited him.”

“I'm allowed to be where I want, thanks.”

“Uh huh. I call dibs on the cake, by the way.”

“It's not your cake you fucking dick.”

“Blah blah, me and (Name) can't hear you.” Wukong turns with you in his arms, guiding you in the opposite direction of where Macaque broods. You wave at Macaque before allowing Wukong to take you…god alone knows where, and he pats your head affectionately. “Sorry about that. Still, happy birthday (Name)! I got you something!”

He releases his hold on you, and you give him a look.

“Is it made out of hair?” You demand, watching as he pouts and looks offended.

“Hey! Not everything I have is made from hair!” He protests, but you can definitely see the way his eyes dart away―he most definitely did, in fact, contemplate giving you a gift made of hair. You loved the guy but….you really had to question how his head works sometimes.

Well. At least you don't have to worry about hair strands all over your room…

“Is it a peach?”

Wukong groans. “(Name), could you have a little faith in me?”

You look him dead in the eye, and answer gently, “Absolutely not.”

“Rude. But fair. And no, it's not a peach. Those are my specialties.”

A pause.

“And I also ate them on my way here.”

You sigh and move to call Pigsy, but Wukong latches onto your wrist and falls flat on his face.

“I haven't even finished!”

“I'm scared what you even bothered to get me.”

Wukong whines, “It's a cool gift, I promise!”

“Wukong, I am not taking Nezha's fucking brick!”

“I wasn't gonna give you that! Nezha took it back anyway!”

Now you understand why everyone wants to wring his neck every time he appears. Even you, who still admires the Monkey King, contemplated wringing his neck like a chicken.

Wukong holds you still and digs through his pockets for something. You cross your arms, waiting, and when he finally grabs the object he's been searching for, he holds it in the air like it's the greatest treasure he's ever found.

He places it in your hands, and you blink.

“A rock.”

Wukong coughs behind his palm. He seems embarrassed by the obvious remark, and you notice a light flush on his expression, a deep red. He looks away before standing, finally, and turns the rock in your hand.

It's about the same size of your palm and oddly shaped as most rocks are, but this rock is different. This rock is painted white, and on the side is a clearly illustrated drawing of a certain Monkey King, hugging a certain figure that bears a strong resemblance to you. The side you had been staring at has a carving, written in Mandarin, ‘My peach and me.’

You flip the rock back and forth, eyes wide. It looks a little silly to be considered a proper gift, but you've already come to realize that Wukong, for all of his confidence, just sucks at expressing himself properly. He has an ego but you know truthfully, he just has no idea on how to act around others and hence why he's always…a little weird.

The rock looks like a silly gift, but you can't help your smile. He could've given you something extravagant as his title, but instead.

He gives you a rock.

“Um. If you don't like it it's fine,” Wukong tries to say, a sheepish smile on his expression. “I mean uh. I'm the Monkey King y'know? I'll get you another gift―”

You cut him off by blurting out, “I love it!”

“Eh?”

You smile at Wukong, squeezing the rock between your hands. He looks back equally amazed, and equally confused.

“I love it,” you repeat, and kiss Wukong's cheek. “Trust me. You're an amazing artist, Monkey King. I hope you don't mind if I keep this in my room, right?”

Wukong blinks like you'd just told him Pigsy loves him (as if.) A smile adorns his expression and he nods, looking quite pleased with himself.

“Ha! Well!” The Monkey King laughs boisterously. “If that's whatcha wanna do, go for it! It's your gift y'know?” He scratches his cheek and looks away. “I just. Figured you'd want something…from the heart. Ehem.”

You smile, “I do. Thank you.”

You're too busy smiling at Wukong to have noticed Macaque had sneaked up on both of you, making Wukong visibly jump in surprise when he speaks. You look at the dark furred simian who barely spares the Monkey King a glance, and instead looks to you with a rare, barely visible smile.

“Since we're giving gifts so soon,” Macaque muses and pulls out something from behind his back.

Unlike Wukong's gift, which is quite frankly the opposite of extravagant, Macaque's is wrapped in a light purple colored paper, and tied with a neat, darker purple bow on top. It's a bit strange to think the Macaque would actually give you a gift, but nonetheless the gesture is sweet, especially when he seems very proud of himself to even wrap your gift unlike the Monkey King.

You accept it with a smile and allow your rock to sit peacefully in your pocket. You try to take care in tearing the paper, but give up when it tears unevenly.

“Oh? A doll?” You blink and look up at Macaque, who is smiling, but a little more nervously this time.

Even Wukong looks impressed, eying the container with a whistle. “Didn't know you got better at making those. It looks realistic.”

Macaque looks surprised at the compliment. You knew they always had bad blood ever since an incident in Wukong's journey, and yet to think Wukong still seemed to remember his old friend's hobby makes even you surprised.

Macaque coughs in his hand, nodding. “Yeah, I practiced a bit,” he admits and looks at you with a sheepish smile. “I hope you like it. Sorry it's not the best.”

A daruma doll sits in your palm, round as a squash with your brows and a smile to imitate your excitement. It wobbles with any movement, and it's really, really cute.

“It's beautiful,” you say, a smile on your expression as it wobbles. “I love it!”

You pause, and look at Wukong. “Not anymore than I love yours, Wukong. It's not a competition.”

Wukong grins, “But if it was, I'd win, right?”

Macaque rolls his eyes and remarks, snidely, “You painted a rock. Not sure how you'd win with that, dumbass.”

“It's better than yours at least. Suck my dick.”

“You should suck mines cause mine is bigger.”

“Shut up you gay ass!”

“Says the walking fruit―”

They bicker, as they usually do, but you don't stop them. Not when you're admiring your gifts, both made with you in mind, with care and consideration. 

A smile adorns your lips later that night, the daruma doll and painted rock sitting on your bedside table.

“Mine's better.”

“Dude shut the FUCK up!”

@lotusarchon , 29.05.2024, all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

[siythn]

Cruel Summer (feat. Megumi Fushiguro) [Limited Edition CD]

MEGUMIXREADER! It seemed like summer just brought the both of you together somehow. Although, you and Megumi had always been kind of attached. Maybe it was the hot summer days, or the secrecy of your relationship. One thing was for sure, you wouldn't mind it being longer than a summer fling. ❝AND I SNUCK THROUGH THE GARDEN GATE, EVERY NIGHT THAT SUMMER JUST TO SEAL MY FATE❞ (LOVER MASTERLIST)

The mission had been brutal, it’s obvious by the bags starting to appear under your eyes. As you and Megumi walked back to Jujutsu Tech, you couldn't help but notice the deep frown etched on his face, his brow furrowed in that all-too-familiar expression of annoyance.

"What's so funny?" he asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

You stifled another giggle, trying to compose yourself but failing miserably. "It's just. . .you look like you ate something sour. I can't take you seriously when you're making that face."

Megumi's frown deepened, as if to convince you to feel sorry for him. The glint of amusement in his eyes spoke louder. "I'm injured, you know. A little sympathy wouldn't hurt."

You nudged his shoulder playfully. "Oh, poor Megumi. Should I get you some candy to cheer you up?"

He huffed, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching, fighting a smile. "You're impossible."

Unable to contain your laughter, you burst out giggling, slightly turning away from him to hide your face; trying to stop the attack. "And you're grumpy. It's a perfect match."

Without warning, Megumi shoved your shoulder lightly, causing you to stumble forwards. "Hey!" you exclaimed, still laughing. "What was that for?"

"For being a pain," he shot back, but his tone was light, and you could see the humor caught in the corner wrinkles of his eyes. He slowed his pace, letting you catch up, and you walked side by side in comfortable silence for a few moments.

As you entered the nursery at Jujutsu Tech, Megumi's steps became more deliberate, you quickly picked on the limp every two steps. Concern replaced your laughter as you saw the extent of his injuries, before it came to a stop. "Come on," you said gently, guiding him to a comfortable chair. "Let's get you patched up."

Megumi sat with stillness on the padded chair, wincing slightly as he shrugged off his bloodstained jacket. "You don't have to do this, you know," he muttered, eyes flicking to the side as he watched you gather the first aid supplies. Despite his words that came off in embarrassment, it was clear he was appreciative of the act.

You smiled, unfazed. "Someone has to take care of you, and it's certainly not going to be you." You knelt beside him, carefully dabbing at the gash on his arm with antiseptic. "Hold still."

He hissed slightly at the sting, and you couldn't help but chuckle. "Oh, come on, Megumi. You've faced curses that would make most people faint, and you're flinching at a little alcohol?"

"Maybe I just like the attention," he retorted, a smirk playing at his lips. His dark hair fell into his eyes, but even through the strands, you could see the mischief he carried within himself.

Rolling your eyes, you began wrapping the bandage around his arm, deliberately pulling it a tad too tight. He cringed, making you grin up at him. "Oops, sorry about that. Guess I'm just nervous being so close to a big, tough sorcerer like you."

Megumi's smirk widened. "Oh, really? Because it seems to me you're taking advantage of my weakened state."

You shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe I am. Someone has to keep you in check."

As you finished securing the bandage, you gave his arm a gentle pat. "There, all done. Now, let's see if we can get rid of that pain." Leaning in, you pressed a light kiss to his bandaged arm, looking up at him with a tease in your eye. "Better?"

Megumi's gaze softened, and in a swift movement, he reached out, tilting your chin up with his fingers. "Not quite," he murmured before capturing your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss.

Caught off guard, you felt your heart race, a deep warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the hot summer day. As you kissed him back, you couldn't help but smile, breaking away just enough to whisper, "People are going to see us." You cast a quick glance around, but the nursery seemed as deserted as ever. But still, that itchy feeling of paranoia gnawed at your mind.

You can’t really place when you officially started to like the black-haired male. It just sort of came to you one hot day in July, watching him train with his divine dogs. As odd of a sight it was, you couldn’t help the admiration in your stare.

It wasn’t long before Megumi picked it up. While the both of you shared a meal, you slipped up and confessed. One look from him confirmed your feelings, and the both of you accepted the terms of this new relationship. The both of you sworn to keep it hidden, although. Plus, it made your skin crawl to think of Yuji and Nobara pestering the both of you about it.

You couldn’t help but like the secrecy, moments like these made it more exciting to experience young love. It was obvious Megumi probably liked it more.

"Let them," Megumi replied, his voice low and firm, pulling you back into another kiss. This time, you let yourself let go the moment, forgetting the thoughts that intruded your mind. His lips were soft but insistent, and you melted into the embrace.

When you finally parted, both of you were breathless, faces mere inches apart. The reason why the both of you ending up in the nursery long forgotten. The golden sunlight filtered through the shutters of the window above, casting a warm glow on Megumi's features. His usually stoic expression was softened by the tender moment, his dark eyes holding an emotion you’ve had the chance to see with this new profound relationship.

"You're really something, you know that?" you said softly, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

He smiled, a rare genuine smile that not many had the privilege to say they see everyday, it made your heart skip a beat. "I could say the same about you."

For a moment, you both just stared at each other, time not seeming to bother the both of you. The sunlight highlighted the contours of his face, making his eyes appear even more intense. You felt a giggle bubble up inside you, unable to contain the joy of the moment.

Resting your head on his shoulder, you let out a soft laugh. "We're a mess, aren't we?"

Megumi chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. "Maybe, but I wouldn't have it any other way." He wrapped an arm snug around your waist, holding you close.

As you sat there together, the sun setting and casting long shadows across the garden, you couldn’t find the motivation to care if the both of you got caught. As long as you were here, wrapped in his arms, what would really hurt you?

BONUS SCENE: The sun was setting, casting a warm golden hue over the Jujutsu Tech pool. It wasn’t used much, but when it was, it had always been a field day.

Clearly that reflected on you and Megumi sitting on the pool's edge, thoroughly exhausted from your splash fight and playful wrestling in the water. Both of you were soaked, bathing suits clinging to your bodies, but the laughter and joy in your faces made the discomfort worth it.

A half-eaten watermelon slice lays on a plate between you, the perfect refreshment after the exertion. You picked up the watermelon, the sticky juice already running down your fingers, and took a bite before offering it to Megumi. "Your turn," you said, squealing when the juice started to drip onto your lap.

Megumi leaned in, taking a big bite and then wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "This is a mess," he muttered, but the gaze he held with the fruit clearly suggested he wanted more. He leaned down one more time to finish it off.

"You think?" you replied with a laugh. "It's worth it, though."

Megumi picked up another full slice, holding it up to your lips. "Here, let me."

You leaned forward, taking a bite and trying not to laugh as more juice dribbled down your chin. "You're terrible at this," you teased, your eyes meeting his as you leaned up to continue chewing.

Just as Megumi was about to feed you another bite, you both froze. The sound of footsteps approaching quickly gave you no time to act, and you turned to see Yuji standing at the edge of the pool, his mouth agape. You slowly wipe your face in shock.

"Uh, hey," Yuji said, his eyes wide with realization. "Am I interrupting something?"

You and Megumi exchanged a glance. The both of you knew there was no getting out of this, especially with how close the two of you were. Megumi cleared his throat, his usual stoic demeanor faltering. "It's not what it looks like," he began, but the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed him.

Yuji's eyes lit up with understanding, and he broke into a wide grin. "Oh, I see! You two are dating!" His excitement was palpable, and you could see the gears turning in his head as he connected the dots.

You couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting you. "Well, I guess the secret's out," you said, looking at Megumi with amusement.

Megumi sighed, but there was a small smile on his lips. "Yeah, I guess it is." He puts down eaten slice of watermelon before intertwining your fingers.

Yuji's grin only widened. "That's awesome! I had no idea. You guys make a great couple."

"Thanks, Yuji," you said, still chuckling. "Just maybe keep it on the down-low for now, okay?"

"Of course," Yuji agreed, his excitement undimmed. "But seriously, this is great. I'm happy for you guys."

Yuji spent one last on gaze the both of you one last glance before walking away, leaving you and Megumi to your watermelon and your quiet moment by the pool. With a moment of silence, you felt a warm glow of contentment. You leaned your head on Megumi's shoulder, closing your eyes and savoring the closeness.

”He’s not gonna keep his mouth shut, is he?" you murmured, echoing your earlier words.

Megumi chuckled softly, his arm wrapping around you. "Probably not."

You smiled, the sun setting behind you and casting long shadows over the pool. In that moment, everything felt okay. Just right, in your words.

Is what you would’ve said before you heard the heavy steps of running and the shouts of Nobara quickly approaching, Yujis screaming echoing down the halls. In the corner of your eye, you glance at Megumi, conveying the message in the stare.

“It’s fine, let her see.”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 29 - Flirting Under Fire

@wolfstarmicrofic May 29, word count 557

They were pinned down. The Death Eaters had cornered them. Their intel had been bad, there were so many of them. How did they know? He had no idea how many of their side had made it out, but he and Remus were now barricaded in a back room of the factory. They couldn’t apparate out of there and their only exit was through the door they’d just come through that currently had at least ten Death Eaters trying to break through their defences. 

Sirius looked over at his friend and saw him shaking. His eyes were darting about searching for an escape that didn’t exist. Sirius reached out and grasped Remus’s hand in his. 

“We’re going to be okay,” He put on his best Sirius doesn’t care about the crazy murderers trying to kill them face. It didn’t help, Remus was spiralling. Sirius had to keep trying. 

“When we get out of here,” He started.

“We’re not getting out of here, Sirius,” Remus snapped. 

“Pessimist. When we get out of here, I’m making you pancakes with chocolate chips in them.” He grinned. Remus loved chocolate and pancakes, so why not mix them?

“What for dinner?” Remus had closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. 

“Oh, no baby, for breakfast.” Sirius grinned at him. 

“You think we’ll be in here this long?” Remus’s breathing had levelled out again, and he opened his worried eyes to look at Sirius. 

“No, sweetheart, first I’m gonna take you to bed.” He winked. 

“Really, Sirius, are you trying to flirt with me while we’re in mortal peril? Sirius, it’s not funny.”

“You’re so pretty when you’re angry,” Sirius batted his eyelashes. 

“Merlin, Sirius, you’re such a pain.” Remus huffed as he shoved Sirius. 

“Oh, Remus do it again,” Sirius wiggled closer, making Remus laugh quietly. It had worked, Remus had calmed down and was thinking clearly again. 

“I know what you were doing, thanks.” Remus said, just as something boomed against the door, making it rattle in its hinges. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I meant every word I said.” Sirius cooed as he turned to look worriedly at the door. Whoever was out there started shouting and yelling. More bangs sounded but further away. 

“Ha, ha, Sirius,” Remus rolled his eyes. Sirius snapped his head back. 

“I meant it, Remus,” Sirius said honestly. He leaned over and cupped Remus’s face in his hands. “I meant it,” Remus stilled and cupped Sirius’s face. 

“Are you serious?” He asked, wincing after the words came out, knowing exactly what Sirius was about to say. 

“Since the day I was born,” Remus groaned. “But yes, Remus, I am deadly serious.” He closed the gap between them and kissed Remus on his lips, just as the door flew open. 

“Really guys, we’re out here fighting Death Eaters, and you’re in here making out?” James chortled as he stood dramatically in the doorway with smoke billowing behind him like some sort of action hero. 

“What can I say Prongs, watching Moony handle a wand does things to me.” He smirked, feeling extremely cocky. Remus snorted and Sirius kissed him again. “Come on, Moony, I promised you pancakes.” He took Remus’s hand again and led him from the room they’d been trapped in and out into the night to apparate back to Remus’s flat.

[raythekiller]

I love the masky nsfw alphabet It riled up my imagination.. soo can i request for a hoodie one?? Thank youu

🗒꒰⸝⸝₊ NSFW ALPHABET ❛ ✧

Featuring: Hoodie/Brian

# Notes: its that time of the year again where i make 1 post and disappear for the next seven months <3 also DAYUM new post format?? (also also theres a new toby drawing on the way stay tuned)

A - AFTERCARE

Surprisingly soft. Wants to hold you close and maybe take a shower together. Don't get things twisted though - it's so he can keep feeling your body against his instead of to comfort you. Call it possessiveness or an ego stroke, maybe.

B - BODY PART

Thighs man through and through. Thigh highs drive him up-the-wall insane. Will also just absentmindedly knead them if you're sitting next to him, especially if you're wearing shorts or a skirt/dress.

C - CUM

Oh he likes it messy. Just enjoys having his cum on you in general - backshots, face, dripping from you after he came inside, you name it.

D - DIRTY SECRET

None. He has no shame and is very open about what he likes.

E - EXPERIENCE

Not as much as you might expect, given his demeanour. Don't get me wrong, it's still a lot, but he makes it seem like he worked as a pornstar for a few years with sheer cockiness.

F - FAVORITE POSITION

If you ask him, he'll say "all of them". But if you put a gun to his head and tell him to choose, he'll settle for doggy. Just loves grabbing your hips and ass while he's pounding into you.

G - GOOFY

He doesn't exactly make jokes, but his teasing might be a bit funny at times. He doesn't mind making things more silly or lighthearted as long as you still cum at the end of it.

H - HAIR

Usually clean-shaven, but he might get a bit lazy with it occasionally. Always at least well trimmed though.

I - INTIMACY

Usually adapts to what you like best. If you just want to get your brains fucked out and keep romance out of it, he'll happily do it. If you like something more tender with lots of "I love you"s, he doesn't complain about it either.

J - JACK OFF

A lot. This guy has crazy stamina (we'll talk about that later), I'd say maybe five times per week or so.

K - KINK

A lot but mainly: CORRUPTION!! I've said it before and I'll say it again he wants to bring the worst out of you. If you're a virgin, he wants go be your first. If you're not, he wants to see just how wild things can get when he pushes you a little.

L - LOCATION

Literally anywhere. He is a fan of semi-public sex, though. In the woods, living room of the manor when (you think) there's no one else home, in a busted alleyway, you name it.

M - MOTIVATION

Oh it's very easy to turn him on. Here's a huge one though: when you take iniciative. He's used to being the one starting shit. When YOU do it, though? When you make it clear you want him to wreck you? Fucking hot.

N - NO

Very short but obvious list: anything to do with piss, shit or vomit. Other than that, I think he's pretty open. Not even averse to being submissive every now and then.

O - ORAL

HELL YEAH BABY! Giving, receiving, whatever, he doesn't care. His mouth isn't just good for talking shit — he knows how to use that tongue. When he's getting head, though? He looks so pretty — head thrown back, moaning and whimpering with a grin on his face. Might buck his hips into your mouth for giggles (and because you sound hot choking on him).

P - PACE

Again, he'll go for whatever gets you off. If you like it rough and fast, he's in. If you prefer slow and sensual, that's also hot.

Q - QUICKIE

Biggest quickie fan in the manor. He just can't help himself most of the time and he doesn't really try to, either. If his horny, you best bet he knows how to get you horny as well and things just go from there.

R - RISK

Loves experimenting and finding new ways to make you moan. Doesn't mind getting a bit freakier every now and then.

S - STAMINA

Jesus christ what are they feeding this man. Y'know when guys are like "I'm gonna fuck you all night long" and stop after two rounds max? This motherfucker is serious about it.

T - TOYS

I don't think he'd go out of his way to buy them, but if you already have them you best believe he's using it to his advantage. Big fan of vibrators.

U - UNFAIR

This guy is MEAN. He doesn't make you wait for too long before fucking you but just those few minutes feel like an eternity with the atrocities he's whispering in your ear.

V - VOLUME

LOUD. He moans, groans, whines, whimpers, you name it. Not ashamed to make some noise and LOVES if you're loud as well.

W - WILD CARD

Likes having his hair pulled— WHO SAID THAT???

X - X-RAY

7.4 inches, cut. Not too thick, just the right girth.

Y - YEARNING

Can't go like, a week without having sex or at least jacking off. Homeboy has a lot of steam he needs to let out.

Z - ZZZ

Only god knows how he doesn't pass out immediately after. Chances are you'll fall asleep before him.

[cameronluvr]

BRUISES — toxic!rafe cameron x routledge!reader ; john b x sister!reader

summary: your brother sees a bruise on your neck, but it isn’t a hickey. he questions you about it, but it quickly turns into an argument when he discovers exactly who hurt you.

warnings: mostly john b x reader, mentions of choking, DV, toxic/abusive relationship, not much rafe x reader directly, angst, reader and john b arguing, name calling, mentions of jealous!rafe, toxic!rafe — lmk if i missed any! ✮

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you sneak into the chateau at 10 minutes past midnight, only to be greeted by your brother who had turned the light on which made you jump. “where have you been?” john b asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“out.” you say, looking down to hide your face from him. you had been crying, but he’d already noticed your red-stained eyes. “what’s wrong?” he asks, frowning with concern.

“nothing, just don’t worry about it.” you answer with your head still down as you attempt to walk straight past him, but he stops you, lightly grabbing your forearm to turn you back around.

“what, john b?!” you snap at him, yanking your arm out of his grip. you don’t mean to be mad at him, but you just want to be left alone after a stressful day. “what’s the matter with you? why are you acting like this?” he raises his voice at you, wanting to know why you’ve turned into a bitch all of a sudden.

“i’m not!— oh my god. just leave me alone!” you yell at him, turning around to rush to your room, slamming the door shut after you. john b stands in the same spot as before, loudly sighing at you.

he decided to leave you alone for the night. even though you’re older than him, he still liked to look out for you ever since your dad went missing. he went to his room to go to sleep, hopefully you’ll talk to him in the morning.

༉‧₊˚. the next morning arrived faster than you’d hoped for. you cried all night feeling guilty for the way you spoke to your little brother, but he really has no idea of the situation you’re in.

you got out of bed and slowly exited your room, seeing john b up and awake already, sitting on the couch and watching tv. “hey…” you say, walking past to head to the kitchen. “hey…” he responds, just as awkwardly as you did.

you open the fridge and grab a snack, before turning to look at your brother. “uh— i’m sorry for last night. i didn’t mean to act like that… i just…” you explain, closing the fridge door and sighing. “you’re good. it’s fine. y’wanna talk about it?” he asks, switching the tv off to divert his full attention to you.

“uh, i don’t know…” you hesitate, knowing you’re hiding a kind of huge secret from him. you had been secretly seeing his biggest enemy, rafe cameron, behind his back. you knew how badly he tormented your brother and his friends, but for some reason, he was different around you.

you hadn’t personally dealt with rafe for yourself, until now. he saw you at the beach a few weeks ago, and thought to himself about how pretty you looked in your bikini, how tanned you were, how contagious your laugh was… and that was it. he introduced himself to you as a completely different person, despite having heard all the stories about him from your brother and the rest of the pogues, including rafe’s own sister.

rafe was kind, sweet and funny at first. ever since you saw him after that, your heart skipped a beat. he was so handsome, you liked him so much, but you couldn’t do this to your little brother. your brother who had been threatened by rafe, bullied, tormented, fought with…

you knew you had to keep it a secret, because once rafe cameron claims somebody, he really claims them. and this time around, it’s you. a pogue, a routledge, someone nobody would ever expect to be rafe’s.

— “cmon, i’m here for you. you know that, sis. what’s goin’ on?” he asks, patting the space on the couch next to him, motioning for you to come sit. you sigh, knowing you won’t be able to tell him without him getting upset that you’re dating rafe.

you know that no matter how or when you tell him, he’ll be angry. after thinking for a second, you walk over to him and sit down. he frowns at you as you sit down, noticing something on your neck. “what’s that?” he asks, putting his hand on your face to look, but you push him away. “nothing” you shake your head, trying to brush it off.

“is that?— that’s not a hickey,” he looks into your eyes with nothing but concern. “just— leave it.” you look at him with widened eyes to show that you were serious. “y/n, what the hell happened? who did that?” he asks, raising his voice in frustration now.

“nobody, john b, god!” you yell as you stand up again, “don’t walk away from me, and don’t tell me to leave you alone either like you did last night. you’re acting weird lately, what are you hiding?” john b stands up too, trying to get an answer out of you. your brother is genuinely concerned for you.

you sigh, turning around to face him head on. “john b, i— ugh.” you begin to say, but cut yourself off, not knowing where to even start. “what?” he asks in annoyance, needing to know who hurt his sister.

“who?” he asks one last time.

“… rafe,” you hesitate, looking around the room to avoid seeing your brother’s reaction. “rafe?” he asks, not sure if he heard you correctly. “…yes” you nod, looking at him now with teary eyes.

“rafe did that?” he asks, getting visibly mad now. he reaches his hand over, forcing your head up by your jaw but not enough to hurt you. he looks at your neck again, before you push him away, again.

“why the fuck did he do that?” he asks, huffing through his nose with anger, looking back and forth into both of your eyes, trying not to go insane. “it’s, uh— we were… having an argument last night.” you slowly explain the story. “an argument? about what?” he asks, not seeing a reason for you to even speak to rafe in the first place, let alone fight with him…

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ᴸᴬˢᵀ ᴺᴵᴳᴴᵀ .𖥔 ݁ ˖

“i saw the way you were laughing and giggling with topper, don’t lie to me!” rafe argued, turning around to point in your face. he had walked away from you and the rest of the kooks, causing you to follow him.

“i wasn’t flirting with him, oh my god!” you argue back. rafe had somehow come to the conclusion that you were flirting with his best friend, even though you were just having a conversation. yeah, maybe you did laugh once or twice, but since when aren’t you allowed to laugh?

“yeah, sure, whatever you say.” he scrunches his face up, sarcastically nodding at you. “you are so strange, rafe. now you’re insecure about me talking to your friends? what, do you want me to just sit in the corner by myself?” you raise your voice, however he doesn’t like your attitude.

“don’t raise your voice at me.” he demands with a threatening look on his face. “jesus, rafe, we aren’t even together! who cares if i was talking to other guys, it’s not like you want me to be your girlfriend” you shrug, trying to act smart but he reached over and grabbed you by your throat, shoving you into the wall.

“oh, so you were flirting with him?” he asks, choking you to the point where you can’t breathe. you try to say no, but nothing comes out, so you shake your head drastically.

“you sure? cause i’m almost certain you just admitted you were.” he tuts, acting so casual whilst he’s got you pinned against the wall. his grip on your neck was intense, it felt like all of his fingers were slowly digging into your neck.

…

“nothing. i just… i don’t even remember.” you lie to your brother, shaking your head. “y/n, don’t play games with me. why did rafe choke you? those are clearly finger—” john b says, leaning down to look at your neck again, “stop!” you cut him off. “look. i don’t wanna’ talk about it. we were just fighting over something petty. it doesn’t even matter.” you shake your head.

“it does matter when it’s turned you into a whole different person,” john b sighs, making you sigh too. “are you seeing him?” the dreaded question comes. “what? no…” you give him a look of disgust. “are you sure? because pope told me he saw you with rafe at the golf course like… what, 2 days ago?” your brother catches you out.

“… i wasn’t with him. i just— saw him there.” you try to make an excuse.

“oh really? since when do you normally decide to hang out at the golf course, where all the kooks are?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at the word kooks, reminding you of where you came from, and that you were a pogue. not a kook.

“does this whole kook vs pogue shit even matter? i mean, seriously, how long is it gonna’ last?” you raise your voice, making him shake his head at how much you truly have changed.

“y/n, you were the one who always hated the kooks. you hated rafe, topper, kelce… and now you’re on their side? now you suddenly wanna drop the whole kook vs pogues thing, too? you are definitely fucking rafe. no wonder you’ve turned into such a miserable bitch lately.” your brothers words hurt you deeply, but he was right.

he shakes his head at you, giving you a look of betrayal. he was upset, and it was all your fault. “where are you going?” you ask as he walks away, grabbing the keys to the twinkie.

“to find rafe” he says, before walking out and slamming the door shut after him. you sit and sob for a minute, realizing you might have just ruined your entire relationship with your brother. as his big sister, he trusted you, but for you to go behind his back and chase the one person he despised, it hurt his feelings. but you are still his sister, and nobody hurts his sister.

“J. HUNTING DOWN RAFE. U COMING WITH?„

john b sent a text to jj, who answered almost immediately.

“HELL YEA MAN„

jj doesn’t even know what rafe did this time, but he’s always down to beat him up.

this was angstyyyyyy 😩 as u can see, i love to write arguments and toxic stuff lol. hope ya enjoy pretties ᥫ᭡ ᥫ᭡ WILL DEF BE WRITING A PART 2 TO THIS ; )))

@cameronluvr

[kit-williams]

I wanna know how some of the yans would react to a baseline person making moves on their darlings.

Hahahaha

(I'm sorry this took so long)

Tags:

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

You're funny. I COULD just say that they'd be a body that would never get found but how would they end up dead? Also very few of these imply that the darling is against such moves being made on them.

Azazel The baseline better pray to the God Emperor for mercy for Azazel has none. Lilith is his beautiful star of the morning and while he is aware the effects she can have on others... he is aware just how unintentionally friendly she can be... she also knows her limit. Pray dear mortal pray for your mercy... for Azazel has none.

Palion Seething intense jealousy and anger as how dare you. Oh yes he would be thrilled someone else would see how beautiful his Muse is but if he saw how uncomfortable she was it would turn into fury real quick. Depending on his mood he might kill them right in front of his Muse or he might steal her away and have the baseline locked away to personally hear their screams.

Harram Harram is confident in himself because he's actively providing for his Orichalcum. He can deal with a persistent male too as he is certain his fortifications around her heart can withstand a weaker male making his attempts. However the first sign of any wavering and the male is gone, however, Harram wouldn't blame Ori but himself not doing enough for her to keep those defenses strong.

Nogai Nogai doesn't need to do anything for his Хонгор just has to do is tell him that she is tired of this baseline bothering her... and they'll be removed from her presence. And Nogai will be there the one coaxing her to utilize his skills... come now... I can rid of him for you.

Arkyn Arkyn would be chummy with the man who was making moves on his darling. Just before he would grab them and threaten them. Arkyn wouldn't want to get his hands dirty right away but if the dog doesn't understand what he is saying the wolf will put him down.

Astel Astel will get them alone... he knows where the cameras are... he'll start a conversation with them using some bullshit about how he can smell something off with them. The scalpel is buried into their neck as they gurgle softly before he snaps something on them and just stuffing the body in some corner. To rot and be forgotten about by all... especially his little Maus.

Ghosk He really doesn't care if another baseline is making moves surprisingly. Usually Rabbit just has to show her tattoo he got her and most sane men back off... only the really persistent ones he'll dispose of at her request. Its other Astartes he saves his energy for but don't you dare try and make moves on Rabbit while he's in the room and she still showed his mark of ownership on her to them... he's got a very fickle temper.

Sirus Jealousy is an UGLY thing on a Blood Angel. He would watch and not make any moves if his Moonlight just calmly and quietly rejects the advances... Sirus will easily have a snack of the baseline man's blood should his Moonlight be receptive... after Sirus sees what he does that charms his beautiful Moonlight and then happily applies them himself to woo her even more easily.

Marlos Vauth He's curious at how someone else could get so close to his Byte. Its perhaps something like this that sets him off to just keep her all to himself once and for all. Death is slow and drawn out... perhaps he turns off their lungs in intervals only turning them back on to keep them alive. To be at the Mercy of Marlos... is to look into the merciless eyes of death.

Zul Depends on which Zul... freshly returned to his senses... he would think you're trying to steal his "golden goose" so to speak and well a bloody death awaits. When Zul has become a warlord of his own? No one with a brain keeps flirting with her after she reveals who she is... if they do he makes an example of them... he's very protective of what is his.

Tulio Oh no this wouldn't do at all. That baseline would not be the first one he has killed with his bare hands. They would be another body that this son of Guilliman would have to hide... he knows how to make it look like some wild beast ripped a man apart. His whole body would tense and twitch as he would keep a stern and expressionless face as his mind switched to how he is when fighting Tyranids... cunning beasts that best be put down quickly. Just another body to be cut down.

Solos Death can't come fast enough. They better play off the fact that they were making moves on his Lovie as being an ignorant cunt and beg for his forgiveness. Oh and pray that the baseline tries to even imply that it was Lovie who started the flirting. That's death right then and there at even implying that Lovie would be unfaithful to him. (Even if she's yelling at him that they are through)

Nakht Doesn't have to worry much about Birdie as she is a capable sorceress who can handle herself. But if they somehow play the whole being macho card, that he's been playing, oh no no no... Nakht would see your utter ruin. He might be one of the few who wouldn't outright kill any competition but he would certainly ruin them.

Zhur Would be surprised you are going after Dolli. Now he knows she can handle herself but if they somehow didn't get it through their head that she wasn't interested or by the four she actually is interested... you're a bloody smear. And depending on when this Dolli is... she might be cooing to Zhur about how she... appreciates him doing such things for her.

Jihias His neverborn is howling in his ear before he even hears or sees what is going on. The way Lamb's eyes glitter and shine at the complements... the way Lamb just blushes at the kiss on the back of her hand. If its someone from the planet she is from he handles convincing them to suddenly be uninterested in Lamb with a delicate touch. Should they be someone who came to help convert the planet... they feel the draw of the ritual knife across their stomach as they are sacrificed in a display with a horrified Lamb watching as his neverborn is summoned at the death of another.

Nubin He's old and he's patient but he also knows that his darling likes to be flirty... likes to push against the chain he has on her... push the limit of what she can get away with. He won't kill the baseline but his darling is going to be reminded that he's more than enough man for her... and how much he loves her... and how much she is part of his hoard.

Raven Guard Trio Death comes in various shades but it's most likely Sor who deals the killing blow that or Kazi. Jealousy will burn bright for the young ravenguard. Moremo will keep the boys calm until he hears a jab thrown his way... he sees his age as a boon not a hinderance in pleasing their Dove... and Sor... well he's just a malevolent specter just waiting to end the interloper's life.

Omegon He doesn't even have to do anything... his little Vixen gets jumpy when people try to get close so this baseline making advances again and again... he trusts she can push them off. However, the Primarch isn't immune to being ugly jealous as he knows he is larger, more powerful, and naturally scary that perhaps his little Vixen flirts a little... perhaps meaning a bit too much into those flirts. Omegon knows that she is still coming into her title and position as his Vixen... with the man just disappearing into the night and a cozy little dinner with his darling... he can inform her what it means to be his.

Roland Death. Is what he would want to jump to. He will restrain his anger towards the baseline as there are thousands of different ways of showcasing that you are in a monogamous relationship within the Imperium. But oh boy will Roland be cuddly and touchy with his darling after it. But if somehow the fact that she was in an exclusive relationship with him as well as him being the sire of their children was not deterring them... then death.

Bonus

Tyberos Hahahahahahahaha no one within the fleet makes moves onto the Void Mother, minus of course the Void Father, but the instant someone does start making a move... it doesn't even have to be Tyberos to stop it... it would be one of the several guards that would be around her. The Chapter Master is far too busy to deal with petty attempts at slighting him... now the brothers that guard the Void Mother... they are less forgiving especially should those moves make the Void Mother uncomfortable.

Yrac H3X doesn't understand flirting very well. So it might be some time before she realizes another Heretek is making moves on her. It stops rather quickly when she goes to Yrac and simply repeats what was told to her with the additional cock of her head, "But I thought that is what we did together in private... I don't really want another relationship." She says not fully understanding the double entandres that are laced into the binary only understanding that what the other was asking for was an activity she and Yrac did together exclusively. Yrac coos and calms his darling H3X down telling her he would take care of it. "But you have your murder face on." She would say bluntly as he would pull off his mask and kiss her before taking his Omnissian Axe with him to take care of it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Candy Girl 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you’re about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend’s dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

After a quick flight, both thankful to Thor and embarrassed that he witnessed his son’s behaviour, you don’t know if you ever want to go back. As much as you love Magni, you’re not sure if it’s worth it. He never seems to want to do anything but play video games or sex. The latter remains a touchy subject for both of you. 

You’ll let Magni cool off, and yourself. 

This isn’t the end. You would know if it was. You send him your usual texts. Good mornings, good nights, and check in when you can. His lack of response isn’t unusual. He’s probably playing around with his bike again. You wonder if he’s figured out how to put it back together yet. 

The days pass in a blur. You have work to keep you busy. With summer in full swing, you have more than enough driving around to do. 

Between deliveries, your mind wanders. You’ll have to talk to him face-to-face, get this sorted out. You're not mad at him. It was a bad morning and a strange night. You can move past it. Right? 

You grab the next order and check the address as you get in your front seat. Huh, it’s in Magni’s neighbourhood. Maybe you can swing by and surprise him. 

You turn the engine and blast your stereo. Rihanna pumps from the speakers, a bit scratchy, but still a bop. You hunch over the wheel as you follow the rush hour traffic, tapping the breaks as you crawl along. Finally, you get to a turn off and dip down some side streets.  

You turn down the A/C as the car begins to shake. You don’t use the air much, your old beater doesn’t much like any extra stress. You turn down the volume and give an anxious look to the venting in the hood. That’s not smoke, you’re just imagining things. 

Before the job, you couldn’t tell left from right but now the whole city is imprinted in the back of your head. You know which orders to make quickly and ones where you can leave the car unlocked while you run up to the door. Magni’s is the latter. 

You roll down the avenue lazily and come up before a big white house, squinting at the number on the front door. You get out and stretch, just a few more hours. You grab the insulated bag and the paper bag with the cans of soda. You bounce up the front steps and balance it all as you ring the bell. 

You wait, glancing around at the lush greenery. It’s kind of lame to dream of living in a place like this. Basic, your friends tease, but you just want to know what it’s like. Maybe it’s just as bad as what you have, just painted up nice. 

You can’t really complain. You have a roof and food and job. Could be a lot worse. 

The door opens and jolts you from your internal turmoil. You blink and step back, once more looking around. You know for sure you didn’t go to the wrong house. Thor’s house isn’t even the same colour. So what is he doing there? 

“Ah, little one, I was hoping it would be you,” he booms. 

“Huh?” You make a dumb face. 

“I thought it’d be a fun surprise,” he grins, “my friend’s,” he points up then reaches into his back pocket, “they suggested pizza and I told them I knew just the place.” 

“Oh, wow, thanks,” you smile and unzip the bag. 

“Hmm,” he hums as he counts out bills, “funny, they got a little thing like you carrying around all that.” 

“Mr. Odinson,” you chirp, “I’m not that small.” 

“Suppose most people are too me,” he grins and holds out the money, “keep the change.” 

You accept the bills with the pizza against your hip and the paper bag on top. You blink dumbly at the folded bills. He can’t be serious. 

“Mr. Odinson.” 

“Thor,” he purrs. 

“Thor, er, I think you miscounted.” 

“I didn’t, I have generous friends,” he shrugs, “we put in together. Now,” he reaches to take the paper bag, “allow me to relieve your burden.” 

You gulp and tuck away the money. You finish unzipping the bag and slide out the pizzas. It’s awkward as the boxes are so big. He gets closer to help and you slide them right into his hand. As you finish unsheathing them, he steps back. 

“How about you have a slice before you go?” He offers, “you have much to go?” 

“Halfway through,” you fold the empty bag against your stomach, “that’s real nice, but they time us.” 

“Oh, too bad,” he nods, “well, I suppose I’ll see you... haven’t lately. Not that I can blame you.” 

“Oh, uh, I’ve been real busy,” you say, not a complete lie. Still, you have been avoiding it. 

“Yes, you work hard. Wish I could say the same of Magni.” 

“Sorry,” you frown. 

“Sorry? For him? He’s not your responsibility. Only myself to blame, I am his father,” he sighs, “anyhow, don’t let me keep you.” 

“Thanks again,” you try to brighten up. “I’m... I’m going to talk to Magni tomorrow. It's my day off.” 

“Ah, yes, well, I hope it isn’t a waste of time,” he resigns and gives a wave. 

He stays at the door as you turn away, his words ominous as they leave an unsettling flutter in your chest. You hop down the steps and open the back door of your car. You toss the empty bag inside and close it, getting in the front.  

You shove the key in the ignition and twist. The engine rumbles but doesn’t flip. You huff and try again, leaning your weight into the effort. As the motor kick, you look up to find Thor still watching you from the porch. 

The engine turns and you sigh in relief. As you go to shift into reverse, there’s a pop, then a bag, and several more noises. The exhaust puffs one last time and the engine dies. No! No! Not now baby. We made it so far. 

You get out as black smoke plumes around the edges of the hood and you hear a shuffle from the porch. Shoot, shoot, shoot. Thor puts the pizza down on the bench and hurries down to you. As if you haven’t embarrassed yourself enough in front of him. 

“You alright?” He asks. 

“Yeah, fine,” you pout, “I’m not worried about me.” 

“Hm, may I?” He gestures to the hood. You shrug. 

He pops it open and moves the stick to prop it up. He waves away the smoke and squints through it. You cross your arms and stand back. You wouldn’t know where to begin. 

“Hmm, lucky it wasn’t a full blown fire. Fuel lines are rotten,” he says and moves out of the path of the smoke. “One finally burst.” 

“Oh,” you mope, “no...” 

“Sorry, little one, it’ll need a professional.” 

“Uh, at least... I guess the tip will help with that,” you sniff, “but... I gotta work. What am I gonna tell Karl?” 

“Karl?” He echoes curiously. 

“My manager,” you utter, “and my parents...” You look at him, “sorry, this isn’t your problem.” 

“I would gladly take it on,” he assures you, “why don’t you call Karl, tell him you’re having some difficulties, you can’t finish your shift.” 

“Urgh,” you frame your forehead in frustration, “but...” 

“I know someone who can look at the car. I’ll give him a call.” 

“Oh gee,” you huff and turn your head up, dropping your hands. “This isn’t happening.” 

“Don’t worry, little one, I will take care of it. Please, it’ll be alright.” 

You look at him again. It isn’t his responsibility and you shouldn’t let him but you don’t have much of a choice. What else are you going to do? Borrow Magni’s broken motorcycle? 

“Right, I’ll... I’ll call my boss.” 

“Please, I don’t like to see you upset,” he says, “call him then have some pizza and I’ll take you to mine. You can make up with Magni, eh? At least that’s something.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Odinson,” you give a bittersweet smile, “really, you don’t have to do all that.” 

“Ah, but why wouldn’t I?” He winks and turns away, “Bucky!” 

He stomps up the steps and pulls open the door, the pizza forgotten on the bench. He calls the same name again and you take out your phone. At least Karl is a nice guy. He’ll let you make it up once you get your car running again.