#and like two pieces of cake for the same meal.

[david-watts]

gonna get screamed at for wanting to eat again :) like ok if I make myself a sandwich like I want to. I will be in massive amounts of trouble for using the fresh bread since well that's the only bread available aside from english muffins which I don't want to use because I actually respect the fact my m*ther bought those for herself and she rarely gets to eat most of them when she does that. I will also probably get called a pig. but if I make myself something else I will get in trouble because 'you ate such a big meal for lunch' and get called a pig again. literally cannot win

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 ❞

❝ EVERYONE WANTS SATORU GOJO, SO WHY ARE YOU THE ONE STUCK GUARDING HIM ? ❞

✧ pairing: rich boy! gojo x bodyguard! reader

✧ summary: after the gojo family receives threats to their lives, you're hired to protect the heir to the company, satoru gojo - you just didn't realize how charming the rich heir would be - and just how hard it would be to resist his advances.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, reader is around the same age as gojo (both in their 20s but age is vague), virgin! gojo, switch! gojo, oral (f + m), handjob (m), dry humping, fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), depictions of violence, mentions of yakuza, dirty business dealings, gojo's made up dad and suguru make an appearance

✧ wc: 15,311 (i don't know what to say at this point)

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 1 has been sold to @forest-hashira and two anons!

“So, is this your first time?”

Satoru Gojo would be the end of you — one way or another. 

One way would be you sacrificing your life to protect him — fairly run of the mill when it came to guarding someone, the risk of putting your life on the line, though the chance of death usually was fairly slim. You had only come close — twice. 

You didn’t care to make it a third. 

The other, increasingly more likely, way was that you would lose your mind to his incessant yammering before you even had a chance to neutralize any threat to his life. 

You nearly spit out your drink at the question, wiping your mouth with a napkin, before managin to choke it down, “Excuse me?” 

And his lips annoyingly curl, “Your first time guarding someone,” 

The heir seemed fairly nonchalant, even after his father had sat the both of you down in a room filled with more security agents than the prime minister of Japan himself had, and had lectured him about the importance of staying with you the entire time and to respect your authority — well one out of two wasn’t bad. He’s eating a piece of cake instead of a meal, his fork digging into the back of the cake again and again, toying with his food as he did with you, “I mean, you seem fairly young, but old enough to be entrusted with my safety,” 

“Well, since you insisted on going to school, your father needed someone unassuming who looked around your age,” you lean against your hand, your other drumming against the table, as your eyes scanned the area — table of frat boys, group of girls sneaking glances at Gojo, various other students, no real threats — unless you counted the girls’ death daggers towards you, “someone who wouldn’t look out of place with you, raise any suspicions, but who could still protect you,” 

His lips curl, as your eyes find their way back to the young heir, “So basically, you had to look like my girlfriend — shouldn’t I hold your hand? Sell the act? All in the name of my safety,” 

You jerk your head towards his group of admirers, “I think what we’re doing now is plenty — unless you’d like your guard to get mauled by a bunch of hormonal college girls,” 

His eyes slid to his adoring fans, as he pities them with a wave, erupting squeals from them, “I think you could take them,”

“How flattering,” you reply drily, picking at the food in front of you, “now finish your lunch so we can get to our next class on time,” 

“Are you still upset that we were late this morning?” 

“No, I’m upset that we missed half the class and I had to take the fall for it,” the heir had oh so kindly told the professor that you had made them run late (even though he was the one who spent far too long in the bathroom). 

And even though you wouldn’t be attending this school for long, you hoped that you wouldn’t have to make yourself look like a fool the entire time you were here — but — your eyes found Gojo’s again — sticking with Satoru Gojo almost made that a guarantee that you would look like a fool — one way or another. 

And you were already the fool — for thinking that a college aged boy would have any real food in his refrigerator. Although, Satoru Gojo was a different breed — instead of alcohol and questionable containers of takeout, there was...sweets. 

So. Many. Sweets.

Not just cookies and candy — but literally six different kinds of mochi (for some reason?) and almost any pastry you could possibly think of was stocked in the house. And the freezer was more of the same — seven different containers of ice cream and one aged bag of edamame stuck in the back. 

“Gojo?” you stare into the open refrigerator, while Gojo lays back on his couch, scrolling on his phone mindlessly. 

“Yeah?” 

“Do you have any food?” 

“What do you mean? The refrigerator is full of food?” and his voice is thick with genuine confusion and you’re almost wondering how this man survived to this age. 

Oh yeah, he’s rich. 

You sigh, closing the refrigerator doors, and striding over to him, only to snatch his phone out of his hands, “Sweets are not real food — how do you eat like this and function?” 

He only shrugs, lips curled into a grin, “I’m just built different,” 

“You mean like a person who won’t make it to age fifty?” you toss his phone back at him, “get up,” you grab your sweatshirt hanging by the door and throw his jacket at him. He barely catches it, as he sits up, his face displeased with your sudden need to get him up. 

“Where are we going?” 

“So,” Gojo says, his hands in his pockets, as you both walk the aisles of the grocery store, “why did I have to come with you?” 

“Because I’m going to show you how to actually shop for groceries, so you don’t have a heart attack and die before my stint with you is up,” you grab essentials and basics — oil, rice, cereal, pasta, spices, flour, sugar (although did he really need sugar with the amount he was already consuming?), “you know it would suck if my client died before we eliminated the other threats on his life,” before you add with a smile, “though I think your eating habits are more likely to kill you,” 

“You know men really hate sarcastic women,” he bites back, before something catches his eye in the aisle and he places it in the cart, “major turn off,” 

“Well, mission accomplished then,” you roll your eyes, as you look back at the cart to see a box of cookies, “you know when I said you were a moron, I was half kidding, but now,” you lift up the box of cookies, “you have a million cookies at home,” 

He pouts — why do you feel like a mother refusing their child their candy at checkout? — “Not these ones,” you take the box and put it back on the shelf where it belonged, and he relents. 

“Did you eat like this before college?” 

He shook his head, “My meals were prepared for me by the chef at my home, I never really had much of a say in what I ate, or anything really,” and you shake your head, “my father wasn’t really the type to let me handle anything on my own — thus the need for a babysitter,” 

You nod, “So no one really taught you how to take care of yourself?” and he shakes his head. 

“Guess not, but I guess no time like the present to learn,” he examines the box of baking powder you had just placed in the cart, “like what this is,” and you snort, taking the box from him and placing it back in the cart. 

“Maybe by the end of this trip, we’ll have you making it past the age of forty,” 

He raises an eyebrow, “I thought you said fifty?” 

“The cookies made me lose more faith in you,” 

The two of you continue to shop, as you help him pick out vegetables, meat, and other necessities for the house. You separate the things for you and for him meticulously, as the two of you head over to the checkout, and he’s placing everything on the conveyor belt together, including your own things, “No wait, those are mine—” 

“Consider it payment,” he stops you, as you continue to try to argue, but he’s only blocking you from the conveyor belt with a raised arm, a real smile on his lips, “just let me do this for you,” And you can’t find any words, so your mouth shuts, and you nod — as you watch him speak with the older cashier with his patented charm. 

And the cashier stops you right as you’re leaving, whispering, “That’s a good one, don’t let him go, ok?” and you pause, her words sinking in as blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“We’re not—” 

“I know,” the older woman chuckles far too knowingly, as she hands you the receipt, “but you never know.” 

“You coming?” Gojo calls, turning to look back at you, as he pushes the cart of groceries, and you look from the cashier to him, before fleeing with a quick ‘thank you.’ 

And as you go home, you glance at Gojo, maybe there was more to him than you initially thought. 

“This is so boooooring,” Gojo’s whining for, what you assume is, the billionth time, “I hate philosophy, moral arguments? It’s such bullshit,” 

“You know philosophy is literally a subject that encompasses everything right?” you tilt your head watching him lay on the floor as the two of you sit at the table, his head right next to you, as you sit cross legged, “there’s no avoiding it in life,” 

“Well can’t I avoid it in school at least? Because college feels very different from real life,” and you roll your eyes, flicking him between the eyes. 

“Just write your paper, I already finished mine,” and he perks up. 

And he slides his laptop over to you, “Then you can write mine,” 

“That’s not happening,” and he groans again, “you know if you spent all the time that you whined working on your paper then you’d be done,” 

“Were you this much of a buzzkill when you were in college?” Gojo stares at you, “what do you even do for fun?” 

“Why is this relevant to you writing your paper?” 

“Why is writing my paper relevant to protecting my life?” and you open and close your mouth, “c’mon give me something, anything,” 

“How about this — when you finish a page, I’ll answer a question, any question,” you offer, and he grins, as he sits up and begins to type away at his laptop. 

You sit back, lying back and using your phone, until about fifteen minutes later when he’s holding his laptop up, showing you that he completed a page, “That fast?” you’re skeptical, and then you grab his laptop, skimming the page, wondering if he was trying to trick you — he wasn’t. It was good, more than good — it was a wonderful discussion of deontological ethics. 

“How did you finish this so fast?” you raise an eyebrow, “you complain so much, but you wrote this page far too quickly,” 

He shrugs, “I’m good at everything, sweetheart,” and you roll your eyes, “jealous?”

“Totally,” you scoff, before grinning,  “so get back to work,” and he gapes at you, before groaning dramatically, lying back on the floor again. 

“Ugh, this is too much work,” he whines again, “I don’t know why I had to take this stupid class,” he grumbles. 

“Then why did you?” you scroll through your phone, checking for any new alerts or updates from his father or any other member of the security team, “you have a choice in what classes you sign up for, don’t you?” 

And for one of the first times, you saw Satoru’s playfulness ebb away, replaced with almost a bitterness — as bitter as his words were usually sweet, “Maybe most college kids do, but I don’t have a choice in most of the things I do, including the classes I pick,” 

You tilt your head, “Your father?” And he nods, “did you even choose your major?” 

His eyes drift to the ceiling, “Is it a choice when your father tells you you’re either being groomed to run his company when you graduate or he’s not paying for you to go to school at all?” 

“No, it isn’t,” you admit, “but it could be worse, he could have stuck you with a glorified babysitter on top of it,” 

He cracks a smile, “I don’t know, maybe I have a thing for babysitters,” and you roll your eyes, cracking a smile. 

“Get back to work.” 

“Fuck,” Satoru muttered, watching the rain come down as he waited outside the university awning of the building he had just finished his class in. You had left him to go to class by himself — you trusted him enough not to get murdered while in class and on the walk back (high praise) — and said you’d likely just meet him back at the apartment. But now, he didn’t know how he’d get home without getting soaked. 

He checks his phone for any rideshares nearby, but there were none. And he would rather go drown in the rain than call his father’s driver, and guarantee a lecture about being prepared for “any given situation.” 

Shit. Maybe he would just risk walking. 

So he did. The rain soaked through his clothes all too quick, the wet fabric clinging to his skin, and the cold leeching the warmth from his body. And he couldn’t help but think if you were with him, you would have remembered to bring an umbrella. 

Weird, when did he ever really rely on anyone else? 

Yes, his father had maids, cooks, and personal shoppers when he was growing up — but they weren’t people he relied on — he did, but it was expected. It was their job. And yes, he was a job for you too — but…it was different. 

Satoru didn’t know when it happened but he had gotten used to your presence in his life. Whether it was at home or in class, you were always there. And it wasn’t as annoying as he thought it would be. It was…nice to have someone there to lean on. But, as he glanced up at the storm clouds, holding a hand above his eyes — rolling dark clouds with no signs of the rain letting up — this would be his reality once the threats were a distant memory. 

“Gojo!” He blinks, his eyes snapping forward, and he sees someone coming over the horizon. 

It was you — umbrella in hand, as your footsteps echoed with the splashes of water from the rain that collected on the ground. And you found your way to him, holding the umbrella over his head. He stared at you as you grew closer, wondering if you were real. And he wasn’t surprised you found him —

“How did you know?” He asks when you stand, catching your breath, short pants, as your eyes flicker up to his. 

“You always forget your umbrella, so I figured you needed one,” you shrugged, “plus I finished my meeting early so I came to get you,” and he only stares at you, “what?” 

And he only shakes his head, as he takes the umbrella from your hand, fingers brushing, as he holds it up over the both of you, your shoulders brushing as you begin to walk home. And he found himself wishing for a split second that the threats would never stop. 

“Just wondering if it’s in your job description to protect me from colds too,” and you snort, lips curling into the same smile he loved to see. 

“With you? It is.” 

“A party?” 

“Yes, known as a gathering of people where—” 

“I don’t need you to define the word,” you grit your teeth, as you watch him pull out shirts from his closet, holding them up, before shrugging, “do you know the kind of danger you could put yourself in by going?” 

“I know, the party might go into a frenzy at the sight of me, think of all the students who’d glare at you then,” he grins, as he finally settles on an outfit — charcoal gray shirt and a blue button down, “might have to call another bodyguard to guard you instead, princess,” 

“Aren’t you the princess if you’re the one being guarded?” you bite back, and he only laughs, hands in his pockets, “Gojo, you have serious threats that have been levied—” 

“Against my father—” 

“And you, the heir to your father’s company,” you cut him off, crossing your arms, “are you seriously going to risk our lives because you want to get drunk and fuck around with a bunch of idiots?” 

The answer was yes, of course. 

And now here you were, stuck babysitting this spoiled heir at a party. You hadn’t really been to any parties — hadn’t bothered to. You had gotten through college at a young age, perks of skipping a few grades, and you ended up in the family business regardless — so you didn’t bother to party much. Not when you had things to accomplish — babysitting a drunk heir wasn’t one of them. 

It has started as you expected. Gojo had flitted away from your side the first moment he got, disappearing into the throng of horny and drunk college students. You wove your way through the crowd, careful not to trip over the students making out, dancing, or drinking on nearly any available surface. The smell of beer and cheap cologne wafted through this dorm. And you had almost given up on finding him when you spotted him stuck to the sides of three girls, all of them far too eager to hang off his every word. 

You sighed, this was going to be a long night. 

“You one of Satoru’s girlfriends?” you glance to your side and see Suguru Geto in person. You had learned all about Satoru Gojo and the people he hung around. Like those three girls — one of them had a long distance boyfriend, the other had a cheating situationship she was trying to make jealous, and the other just wanted to fuck him for the experience. Suguru Geto was one of the only friends of Gojo you had liked from what you had read about him — humble background, on scholarship at the college, but one of the best students here — and a philosophy student of all things, the very subject his best friend hated. 

You want to say no, but unfortunately, you have no idea what the idiot has been saying to other people, “Something like that,” you sip at your drink to make the bitter words slide down, “why? Are you?” 

A chuckle slips past his lips, as he takes a swig of his drink, “Well I already like you better than the others. You have a sense of humor and seemingly more than two brain cells,” 

“Don’t give me too much credit,” you snorted, leaning against a wall, “I did end up here after all,”

“Fair enough, how’d he convince you to come?” And you shake your head — good question. What choice did you really have? You could have let him go alone, but probably not a good look 

“I don’t even know honestly, feel like I’ve been dragged here to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid,” you glance at him and the gaggle of girls, “though maybe I already fucking failed at that,” 

Geto shrugs, as his gaze slips from Gojo to you, “I mean until he sticks his tongue down one of their throats, I think you’re doing pretty well,” 

You laugh, “Good to know,” and you both continue to chat, and unbeknowst to you, while your focus is torn away from Gojo, his attention is fully on you. 

If looks could kill, Satoru imagined his crystal eyes were nothing more than daggers ready to strike, as he watches you and Suguru talk. 

It was his fucking idea to come to this party, so why were you having more fun than he was?

He swirled his drink miserably — he had barely taken a sip of the beer poured for him — why would he when it tasted like piss? He didn’t understand why people liked to drink — especially when they could eat mochi instead — but now, as he stares at you and Suguru, maybe he was starting to understand. 

He can’t hear what either of you are saying over the blaring music and the chatter of students surrounding him, but he can see the smile on your lips and the laugh that left them. 

Why the fuck do you look so happy to talk to Suguru? 

You seemed so bored when he was with you—and did you just fucking laugh again at something Suguru said? 

The crinkle of plastic and the distinct feeling of a spill made his gaze snap to his hand — he just crushed his plastic drink cup. He sighed, as he simply placed it among the other abandoned drink cups on a nearby table, before wiping off his hand with a napkin. 

Why did he even care? You were nothing but a nuisance anyway. All you did was follow him around, make him go to class on time, make sure he was safe, care about his well-being— 

What the fuck was he thinking? 

His eyes couldn’t help but slide back to you as he tried to enjoy the girls' company, their slight touches and soft pouts and sweet words not going unnoticed by him. But that was how it always was. Once people found out he was rich, people wanted to be his friend, they wanted to date him, they wanted him — but not really him, they wanted his money. 

First world problems, right? 

But you — you hadn’t been like that. You were irritatingly punctual, unfazed by his money, didn’t care in the slightest about his father or who he was — you just wanted to do your job. And he was your job, for the time being. 

And now he got to see you smile — your lips perfectly curled in a smile that both he wanted to see all the time and grated on his nerves — but you were smiling at someone else. And Suguru no less. 

“C’mon Satoru, you gonna make eyes at your boyfriend all night?” Aiko said, nudging him teasingly, her words far too slurred. 

“Help us finish these shots,” Yumiko whines, as she offers him a shot, urging it into his hands. 

He’s grimacing, he hates alcohol — he hates how he feels during and after; he hates the disgusting, metallic taste; and if it couldn’t get worse, he’s a lightweight. He stares at the shot. 

“It’s just one shot,” Misaki grins, holding up her own, clinking hers to his, “you’re already three shots behind everyone else,” 

And he’s about to open his mouth to refuse — make up an excuse of having to wake up early or stomach being unsettled — and that’s when you catch his attention. You were laughing now, a noise far too pretty for his liking, as you shoved Suguru’s chest playfully. 

Fuck it. 

He downs the shot, the liquid searing down his throat, dragging down until it settles in a burning pool in his stomach. Finally he tears his gaze away as the girls offer him another shot — as you grin at Suguru — this was going to be a long night. 

“Hey,” Geto jerks his head, “you might want to deal with that,” 

You whip your head around. 

“Oh what the—“ 

Gojo was hanging all over the girls he was with, barely able to stand on his two feet, as he swayed from side to side — his cheeks glowed with the telltale glow that told everyone he had been drinking (if that wasn’t obvious by literally everything else). 

Fuck. 

You had kept an eye on him. You swore he had only taken two shots of alcohol, how was he this drunk already? You examine and sniff the two shot glasses he used — no peculiar smell or residue — you run through the gamut of tests you could do on hand and conclude two things: 1) Gojo wasn't drugged and 2) he was a lightweight. 

But that didn’t stop him from acting like he wasn’t, as girls egged him on to take more shots, and from the way they were eyeing him, their intentions were anything but pure. 

You sigh, walking over, slipping past a drunk couple making out, a person passed out and sleeping on the floor, and a cluster of cheering onlookers as a student chugged what you can only assume was a disgusting concoction of alcohol. 

Until you finally reached his side. 

“I think you’ve had enough, isn’t that right, Satoru?” And he’s blinking at you, before he’s grinning, slurring your name.

“You’re no fun,” and he’s clinging all over you, his hands curled around your waist, “such a buzzkill, don’t even like to have any fun with me,” 

“Looks like you had too much fun without me,” you murmur, your arm slinks around the middle of his back, “let’s get you back to your dorm,” 

“Hey he’s fine, he’s having fun with us,” Aiko glared at you, a hiccup leaving her lips, “don’t go crashing our good time because he’s not interested in you,” 

“Yeah why don’t you go hang out with Geto or whatever? We’ll take good care of him. C’mon Toru, let’s go to my place in Shibuya, I have a huge house there,” Yumiko says, barely coherent, and you raise your eyebrows at the nickname, as she leans in to whisper, alcohol wafting off her breath, as she lifts up her middle finger, “fuck off,” 

Honestly the only reason you can understand the gist of what she meant was because of her middle finger. Their other friend is passed out on the couch. 

“I don’t think any of you can even care for yourselves,” you scoff, and Satoru is hanging all over you already, mumbling words you can’t make out in your ear, “I’m taking him home, you should take your friend home,” 

“Geto, wanna help me out?” And Geto nods, trying to take Gojo other arm, but Gojo pushes him away, instead clinging to you, you stumble a moment before catching both of you, “Gojo—“ 

“No, wanna go home with just you,” he’s officially whining, and you’re having flashbacks to the summer you spent babysitting, but — you look at the drunk white porcupine clinging to you — somehow this idiot is worse than the kid. 

You sigh, “Geto, make sure that girl gets home safe,” you gesture to the one passed out on the couch, “I’m going to deal with this one,” 

Geto stares at the two of you, the far too tall Satoru hunched over onto your body, “Can you—“ 

But you’re already walking away, able to drag Gojo away with relative ease (it’d be far easier if he’d pull his own weight, but at least he was quiet). 

That was, until you got outside. And then the whining began again. 

“How can you treat me like this?” Gojo’s hands cling to your arm, his face buried in your shoulder, “you shouldn’t ignore the one you’re supposed to protect!” and he’s shaking his head like a petulant child, his bottom lip quivering. 

“You’re the one who left my side, not the other way around,” you grumble, as he’s finally beginning to walk by himself but he’s still stuck to your side like an overgrown cactus, “you’re the one who wanted to go to this goddamn party,” 

“Yeah but you’re the one who's supposed to protect me,” he pouts, as he stops right in front of his building, “I can’t do your job for you,” and he’s finally standing in front of you, his cheeks and nose still flushed from the alcohol, his hand still clutching at yours, “do you even know how to do your job?” 

You grit your teeth. Would punching the person you’re hired to protect be a breach of contract? You rub your temples, it may come to that. 

“You’re an idiot,” you jerk your hand away, shaking your head, “my job is to protect you, not to stop you from doing stupid college boy shit,” 

He’s crossing his arms, “I could have been in danger — what if that alcohol was poisoned? I feel really sick,” he grips, holding his stomach with pursed lips, and you’re thoroughly unimpressed. 

“I looked at it, it wasn’t poisoned,” you raise an eyebrow, before sighing, and shrugging your shoulder bag off your shoulders, rooting around in the pouch, “but if you want, I have something in my bag that will turn your stomach inside out and we’ll be sure to get the poison out,” 

“Nooooo, no! I’m fine,” he’s shaking his head, his voice grows soft, “I just need to get to bed,” he mutters, and you roll your eyes, but grab him by his wrist. 

“Come on, we’re going inside,” and it’s a struggle to get to his apartment — more like a luxury penthouse — on the top floor, but somehow you get him inside and shepherd into his bedroom. And he’s shrugging off his button up before pulling off the shirt underneath. 

Your gaze snaps away, cheeks burning, your eyes trying to erase the glimpse of his fucking unfairly chiseled physique — complete a surprisingly broad chest and shoulders — how the fuck was that hiding under his clothes? He looked like a stick normally with his clothes on. 

“See something you like?” he’s snickering, as you hear the click of his belt and the and sounds of rustling — assuredly stepping out of his jeans. 

“No, just not used to clients stripping for me,” you turn your back to him, as you hear the creak of the mattress and the crinkling of his comforter and sheets. 

“Am I just a client to you?” his words were still mildly slurred, and you knew he’d be pouting if he had enough brain cells to do so, “you can turn around, I’m under the covers,” he adds with a grumble. 

You turn and see him curled up under his blanket and you have to bite back your smile — now he most assuredly looked like one of the kids you used to babysit. 

“Well what else am I supposed to see you as, Gojo?” you cross your arms, and he’s muttering under his breath, “what?” 

“That’s just it. You don’t even call me by my first name,” he’s brooding, face twisted in a scowl, “I don’t have a lot of people I trust. Most people are just after my money or my looks,” he looks at you, “you’re different. Kinda weird,” 

You quirk an eyebrow, “is that a good thing?” 

“Well I trust you,” he admits, and you note the tips of his ears barely visible outside the comforter are red — is it still the flush from the alcohol? “I don’t really have many of those,” 

And you’re taken aback — you thought you were nothing but a nuisance to this party obsessed prince, but maybe there was more to him than you thought. You toyed the ring on your finger, maybe you had more in common than you thought. 

“Thank you, I’m glad you do, because you can, trust me that is,” you say softly, “good night, Satoru.” 

And he does sleep after that, as you spend the night keeping watch, half to ensure his safety and the other to make sure he slept on his side in case he threw up

(and he did, twice). 

“I need to talk to you,” Suguru Geto barely looked up from his phone when he saw Satoru in front of him, his best friend looking more irritable than usual — his usually bored affect seemed to be on holiday, “Suguru?” 

“I heard you the first time, what is it?” and Satoru snatches the phone from Suguru’s hands, “what the fuck—“ 

“What were you doing last night?” and Suguru tilts his head, before rubbing his temple.

“Give me my fucking phone—“ 

“What did you talk to her about?” And Suguru stares at him, his brow furrowed, smart mouth ready with a reply about a stint in a spa or a retreat was needed before his lips curl. 

“Oh. Her,” and he’s leaning back, a lazy shrug, “this and that,” 

“Cut the shit, Suguru, do you like her or not? Did you get her number?” And Satoru is trying to unlock Suguru’s phone, as Suguru watches with a tilt of his head and a wry grin on his lips, “huh? what is it?” 

“So you like her, that much is clear,” and he’s crossing his arms, “I assume you didn’t tell her or you wouldn’t have come in swinging and stealing?” 

Satoru stares at him, slack jawed and cheeks turning a deep pink that only carnations could rival, “No! She’s just a…friend of the family, and she’s not supposed to be with—“ 

“She told me she liked you,” his heart catches, mouth falling open, before Suguru’s lips curl, “well, she said that she was one of the many, rather,” 

Satoru’s cheeks burn, “It’s not like that, she barely even fucking looks at me. Can you believe that? Me?” and he gestures up and down his body. 

“I see your ego is still intact,” Suguru scoffs, shaking his head, before leaning back on his palms, “just tell her how you feel, Satoru, what’s the problem?” 

“The problem is I have no idea how she feels and it’s all your fault!” And Suguru raises an eyebrow, “you charmed her and I’m sure you’re the only one she’s thinking about now,” he covers his face, “and after what I said to her last night…” he couldn’t believe he admitted that you were the one of the only ones he trusted. And he called you weird. 

He honestly didn’t know what was worse. 

“What did you even say?” 

“Say to who?” and Satoru turns, finding you standing behind him, arms crossed. 

And Satoru cuts Suguru off before he can say a thing, “Not important. What are you doing here—“ you grab him by the wrist, a wave of heat makes his nearly burn red as you begin to drag him away, “what are you—“ 

“Bye Geto,” you say, waving at the raven haired student, before taking Geto’s phone and tossing it back to him, “I’m taking the idiot—“ 

“HUH?” 

“Good luck. He might need to be fed — he’s in a mood,” and he waves back, same smile on his lips. 

“What did you two do, adopt me?” Satoru grumbles as you pull him away, “where the hell are you dragging me? How did you even find me?” 

“The post hangover suits you well, we have to get to class, and I placed a tracker on you,” and he’s jerking his hand away, staring at you, “I have to be able to find you, don’t I?” 

“Where?” 

You tilt your head, “Why would I tell you? Don’t worry about, I’ll remove it after we’re done here,” 

You weren’t going to budge on this — and if he argued more, you would take it up with his father. And he would like to avoid that as much as possible. He sticks his hands in his pockets, , “I’m tired, can’t you just go and take notes for me?” 

“I thought you’d be more concerned about the threats against your life, instead of sending your bodyguard off to your class for you” you hiss, and he’s pouting again, unable to meet your gaze, “what’s your problem, Satoru?” 

And he pauses, the retort on lips dying as his brain looped in an infinite spiral of his name on your lips, “You called me ‘Satoru,’”

You tilt your head, “you told me to last night,” and then you add with a wicked grin, “remember? When you said I was one of the only people you trusted,” you tease, but he’s too busy hearing his name repeat in his head again and again, “Satoru—“ 

“Better be careful, sweetheart,” his lips curl into that annoyingly charming smile, “keep calling me by my first name and I may fall for you,” 

You glare at him, before rolling your eyes, “I see you’re feeling better now,” you walk forward, glancing back at him, “you coming?” 

And his wrist tingles still tingle from your touch, his lips quirk into a smile, “Yeah.” 

“Why did you become a bodyguard?” Satoru asks you, the movie you had haphazardly chosen still ongoing had all become background noise while you spoke, the illumination from the television screen being the only thing that kept your faces lit in the dark living room (he had insisted on shutting the lights off for an “authentic movie watching experience”). 

It had been a few weeks, with no signs of the threat posed ever being eliminated — still new threats were being made, and the Gojo family was still on edge. 

But you were on edge for a whole other reason. 

His fingers were still shoved in the bag of kettle corn he had been snacking on this entire time, but you could feel his gaze on you, instead of the movie. 

“What do you mean?” your eyes slide to him, as your phone’s ringer goes off with a spam email, and you silence it, keeping it on vibrate for emergencies, “and what’s with the sudden question?” 

The two of you had settled into your routine — days spent in class, meals shared, grocery shopping, and nights spent either in or out — but again, always together. And, it wasn’t bad — some of it was fun, to the point you almost forgot you were working. 

But you were working. Even now, as your legs are thrown up on the couch, crossed underneath you, your knee brushing against his thigh. 

He shrugs, “You owe me a question, remember?” and he reminds you of your promise from weeks ago — you had wondered why he had never asked you anything that night, “You never talk about yourself. You implied you have your degree, but not much else. From what I’ve seen of you, you’re intelligent — you could have done anything, why this?” and his lips curl into that mischievous, “unless you just had to guard me when you found out it was me,” 

You toss a throw pillow at him, but he catches it with ease, “If only your body was as bulletproof as your body,” and he huffs out a laugh, as you sigh, “why are you interested anyway?” 

“Because I am,” you scoff. 

“Nice reasoning,” he only grins, a thousand watt even in the dark. 

“I thought so,” and he’s holding the pillow to his chest, “c’mon, can you not tell me even one thing about yourself?” 

He wasn’t going to let this go was he? And you relent, chewing on your lip, “My family has been in this business for years — my grandfather, my father, my uncles, and my cousins, and I wanted to be one too. To protect people — it’s a lot more work than it seems. It’s quick thinking, critical reasoning, and analytical skills. It’s all I ever wanted to do after watching my dad do it,” you say softly, “but he didn’t think I was capable of it. He thought I was too soft. Too weak. So I decided to prove him wrong,” 

“You weak? Has your father met you?” and you huff a laugh, “I’m serious,” his cerulean pools meeting yours with not a ripple of hesitancy in them, “I’ve seen you — I don’t I’ve met anyone this determined, or stubborn,” he adds with a smirk. 

“I’m stubborn?” you gape at him, “this coming from the king of stubborn,” 

“Only if you’ll be my queen,” and you roll your eyes, but your cheeks burn, as your gaze turns back to the movie — why did your heart catch at his words? “but trust me, I’m very flexible in other aspects,” 

“Oh my god, is every other sentence that leaves your mouth a pick-up line?” and he opens his mouth, “don’t say ‘only for you,’ or I will be the only threat you have to worry about,” 

“Promise?” you grab another pillow, but he catches your wrist before you can toss it. Your breath catches, and you can’t meet his gaze — you can’t, because you know if you do— but then he whispers your name. 

And you can’t help it. You look at him. His eyes are so pretty. They were really the first things that struck you when you met him — that was before he opened his mouth. They looked like they contained multitudes, a far too beautiful ocean tucked behind sunglasses and an irritated scowl. But it wasn’t a secret that Satoru Gojo was attractive — especially not when every other person glared at you for simply being in his presence. But physical attractiveness meant little if a person wasn’t good — because superficiality could only take you so far. 

And you knew what it was like to be only judged superficially — and by the way Satoru’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when these people chatted him up, he was far too used to it. 

And once he did speak, you had written him off as another rich kid — you had seen them a dime a dozen throughout your schooling and from the people your family was protected to hire. But there was something about him — something you couldn’t quite shake, even though every part of you was telling to do so. 

“What is it, Satoru?” And his fingers tug you a little closer, gently, his hand loose enough for you to slip away, but you don’t. Why don’t you? 

“You don’t always have to have your guard up,” his voice is soft, far too soft for the far too loud heir, “it’s okay to open up,” 

You shake your head, but still unable to pull away, “It’s dangerous,” and he laughs, a sound that only warms the thin icy barrier between you both, melting it to nothing. 

“Isn’t danger the whole reason we met?” And now his thumb brushes up and down against your wrist, and you wonder if he can feel your pulse roaring just underneath. 

You pull away again, shaking your head, as you cross your arms, trying to hold your resolve together, “I can’t do my job if I’m distracted,” and you couldn’t, even now, you weren’t evaluating any risks, you weren’t trying to find the source of the threats — no, you were too busy trying not to inch closer to your client, trying not to look at his lips, trying not to give in to what you wanted. 

“And I’m a distraction?” he looks far too pleased, but a thought seems to sour his smirk, “I thought Suguru was more of one,” and his lips are caught in a slight pout. 

“Geto was just keeping me company while you entertained those girls hanging on your every word,” you can’t dull the point to your words, and it replaces his pout with a grin. 

“So you were jealous,” 

“You’re the one who was jealous — you could have killed Suguru with your glare alone,” 

“But you didn’t deny it,” and it makes you stop — why didn’t you deny it? 

“I can’t do this,” and you’re pulling away, before flicking off the tv and rising from the couch your phone in hand, turning towards the hallway, “it’s late we should go to bed—“ but he’s catching your wrist again, “Gojo—“ 

“Satoru,” he corrects, and you hated how gentle his fingers felt around your wrist, “how are you supposed to protect me if you’re too busy running away from me?” 

“I’m great at multitasking,” and he’s drawing closer to you, his soft footfalls against the carpet, even as you step away from him, “my job is to protect you, we can’t get distracted—“ 

“I thought you were so good at multitasking,” he chuckles, his fingers find your wrist again, slipping to intertwine with your own, fingers interlaced, and your phone falls from your fingers and onto the couch, “what I said that night when I was drunk was true — I don’t have a lot of people I trust. People don’t understand. They put me on a pedestal or they don’t want me, they want the concept of me — not the reality,” 

“I’m not licensed as a therapist you know,” and he’s sighing. 

“Do you always have to deflect with humor? Because if we both do that, we’ll never get through a conversation,” and he squeezes your hand, “which I guess I don’t mind if that means you’ll stay,” 

“Satoru—“ 

“We don’t have to do anything now — we don’t have to do anything at all,” and you can feel his words warming your skin, “but don’t you feel something?” 

You hesitate, and you can’t look at him,  “No, I don’t,” 

“You’re not a very good liar — don’t they teach you that in bodyguard academy?” 

You snort, holding your head, “Is that where you imagined I got my training done?”

“Well, you don’t exactly like to share, now do you?” he’s stepping forward again, and you can’t bring yourself to run away anymore. 

“I shouldn’t,” and you hear the faint sound of his breath hitching, “but I do,” 

You don’t need to look at him to hear the smile on his lips, “so maybe it’s a distraction worth having,” 

“But—” and he’s gently turning you to face him, his fingers brushing a stray hair from your face, heat blooming with his touch, “Satoru…” 

“Why do you keep saying my name when you know I like hearing it?” he’s teasing, but you’re not shying away from his touch, as his fingers cup your chin now, upwards, so you meet his gaze, “maybe we should have had you pretend to be my girlfriend,” 

You chuckle, “Oh I could see that going wrong in so many ways,” and he’s leaning even closer, as he’s left the line you’d drawn far behind, marred it with his touch, and is luring you over to stumble over the edge with him. 

“Is this one of them?” 

“Probably,” and his lips brush against yours — he tastes sweet, the taste of kettle corn lingers, as his fingers cup your cheek now, and find purchase on his shoulder. It’s brief, a soft press that leaves you far too breathless, as if his touch had taken the air from your lungs, only to leave heat behind, “definitely,” 

“Is that a good thing or—” and your lips find his this time, a gasp you swallow with a smirk, and he melts into your touch, eager fingers grasping at the front of his shirt. And he responds in kind, his fingers tracing a path, as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before his hand settles on the back of your neck. 

His touch set every nerve ending on fire — a desperate wildfire that burned a trail across your mind and body — leaving only the crave of his touch behind, that left you wanting more, needing more.

“Was that good?” you murmur, as you take in your handiwork, his pink lips were bitten red by your kisses, his marble skin a lovely flush, and his gaze far too needy. God, it’s far too easy to get lost in him — pull your anchor from the shore and get lost in his gaze and touch, “god I shouldn’t ask that, we shouldn’t be doing this—” but your body refuses to pull away, and you don’t think by the grasp he has on you, that you’d be able to anyway. 

But he only gives you the same answer to each of your statements — he kisses you again, slower and more languid this time, as the two of you walk towards the bedroom, your hands reaching for each other and the walls, as you both stumble into his bedroom. 

“We don’t—” he says, between kisses, “I didn’t—” 

“I didn’t either, but—” you can’t stop touching him, you don’t want to, despite the logical part of you screaming at you to leave his room, it’s overridden by just how much you want him. He’s frustrating, he’s an idiot, he’s sweet, he’s cute, and he’s a little pathetic — but you liked that in a man. Every sense of logic is screaming at you to stop — but it all turns to white noise  “but I don’t want to stop.” 

He’s grinning as he pulls you into another kiss, his arms wrapping around his waist, pressing you against him, “That addicted already?” lips parting as he kisses down your neck, pulse jumping under his touch. 

“You’re just lucky Geto didn’t get to me first,” and he furrows his brow, before his teeth graze against the juncture of your neck and shoulder, drawing a gasp from your lips, “Satoru, what was that for—”  

“So everyone knows you’re mine? Including Suguru,” he’s sucking lightly at the mark, soothing his tongue, “and I’ll make sure he knows,” 

“Oh, I trust you’ll be subtle,” and he’s guiding you towards his bed, both of you falling onto it, his knee pressing your legs apart, as he hovers over you, his ocean gaze dark as a storm ridden sea. 

“Oh you know me, princess,” and his knee presses against your clothed cunt, rubbing against it teasingly, “subtlety is my specialty,” 

“Subtle as a truck,” you murmur, and he’s laughing as he kisses you again, making your lips curl, as his hands slide up your sides, squeezing your hips, “Satoru, please,” 

“What’s the fun if I don’t get to tease you?” he’s kissing needy kisses to your neck, as his knee doesn’t relent, grinding lightly against your increasingly wet core, slick leeching through the thin material of your shorts, “gotta make sure you want it right?”

“You treat all the people you bring home this well?” and he’s pausing, lips against your neck, “I didn’t mean anything—” 

“You’re the first,” you stare up at him, and he’s hesitant for once when usually he’s always barreling forward, “I’ve never brought anyone here,” and he licks his lips, a deeper flush settling over his porcelain skin, “I’ve never actually—” 

And you blink, “Really?” 

He huffs, “Is it that surprising—” 

“I mean a little, from the way everyone acts around you, and the way you act—” 

“Well, ‘act’ is the key word, now isn’t it?” he’s licking his lips as he looks down at you, “it’s easy to act when you know what they expect from you — a role to play,” 

“Well, the role’s been filled, so how about you just be yourself for me?” you murmur softly, a featherlight touch as you trace the curve of his jaw, and his lips find his smile under your delicate touch, “so I can ask, is this your first time like you asked me?” 

And he’s leaning up to kiss you, your hand resting against his chest, his heartbeat galloping under your touch, “And if I said yes?” 

You smile, before flipping him onto his back, his gaze wide as he stares up at you, “Then we better make it memorable.” 

“Please, I want to—“ his soft pants left his perfect lips, chest heaving as your fingers curled around his erection, far too hard from just what you had done. You’d stripped yourself and him bare — your inhibitions left far behind — as your lips kissed the tip of his aching cock.

“Lemme make you feel good, Satoru,” you murmur, looking up at him with fluttering eyes, your fingers smearing his pre cum along his length, and he’s pressing his head into the pillow, “s’big, can’t wait to feel you inside me,” you murmur, and you slowly pump him, drawing moan after moan from his lips. 

“Won’t last long—can’t—“ he’s biting his lip, his hips thrusting into your touch, before your lips suck at his tip again, and he’s gone, cumming hard all over your face and fingers. God, it never felt that good when he touched himself. Your fingers even brushing against him made him want to cum almost instantly, your soft touch and lips were enough to send him over the edge over and over again.  

He’s panting, eyes fluttering open to see you licking your lips clean with your tongue, as you meet his gaze with a grin, slowly sucking on each one of your fingers until you’ve cleaned yourself of his cum. 

“Princess, fuck,” he’s lying back on the pillow, as your lips slowly kiss back up his body, your tongue dragging between the fluttering muscles of his stomach and chest. 

“Already hard again?” You murmur, a smirk on your lips, “so sensitive for me,” 

He’s keening at your words, a whimper leaving his lips. His eyes are blown out in pleasure as he meets your gaze, and you kiss him again, sloppy and messy, as his tongue brushes against yours, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection. 

“Please,” he can’t help the words leaving his lips, “I need you,” 

“Is this the first time you’ve begged for something?” You tease him, smirk on your lips as your thumb teases one of his nipples, pulling a gasp from his lips, “such a good boy,” 

He hissed at your praise, “fuck—“ 

And you’re grinding against him, he’s already embarrassingly hard, blood rushing back to his cock as if it never left, as it drags against the all too wet fabric of your panties. And every small moan that leaves your lips leaving him needing more, his pre cum mixing with your cum that seeps through your panties, and is the second time he comes with you gonna be just grinding against each other on this bed? But he can’t help it if you keep nibbling at his neck like that, your pretty little pants in his ear, the head of his dick catching on your clit — so fucking good. 

“Toru, c-close, ngh, g’nna cum—“ and he’s nodding, forcing his eyes open to watch you cum, your chest shaking, as you hover above him, your eyes squeezed shut and lips parted as you said his name. 

“S’good,” he’s grunting, “Cum f’me,” and you both do, the slick and stickiness between your bodies almost unbearable, as you both pant, as you rest your head against his shoulder. 

The silence sinks in for a moment, as you kiss his cheek, “we can stop here if you want,” your voice is soft, nose brushing against his neck, “don’t want to make you—“

And he’s flipping you onto your back, his fingers finding the waistband of your shorts, your breath hitching as he drags the material down your legs, and tosses it behind him, “I want this, I want you, and I won’t stop saying it until you believe it,” he leans down, breath warming your breasts through your shirt, before his lips suck at your clothed nipples, making you shiver, “you like that, huh?” 

“Shut up,” your cheeks burn, but he’s only tugging your shirt over your head and off, his gaze hot as he drags his eyes down your exposed body, and it makes you squirm, “Satoru — please—“ 

“Now who’s the one doing the begging?” he leans down to suck on your nipple, while his fingers toy with the other between his thumb and forefinger, “I wanna learn what makes you feel good — wanna make you cum under my touch, wanna taste you,” he switches sides, his teeth grazing the skin of your breast, sucking a mark before soothing it with his tongue, “mine,” 

“Satoru, fuck, I want—“ and his fingers trace down your body, making you gasp, he’s kissing down your chest and then your stomach, tongue dipping into your bellybutton, “you fucking—“ 

“Gotta make you feel good don’t I?” he has a shit eating grin on his lips, as he settles between your thighs, and his fingers press against the growing wet patch on your panties, “though it looks like you’re already feeling good,” 

You bite back a whimper, “Are you gonna make me feel good or are you gonna keep talking—“ you moan when his thumb bears down on your needy clit, rubbing it through the nearly translucent fabric of your underwear. 

“What was that, sweetheart?” And he’s snapping the waistband of your panties against your skin, “couldn’t hear you,” 

“You fucker—“ and he’s kissing your clothed cunt through the wet fabric, nose brushing against your clit, making you nearly shake, as he inhales before he moans. 

“So sweet, must taste even sweeter,” he murmurs before tugging your underwear down, before you’re kicking it off, making him chuckle, “so eager,” and you scowl up at him, ineffective from the way lips are parted, “you’re so cute,” 

“I’m not cute,” you pout, and he’s laughing, a noise you could drown in, just as you do his eyes. 

“You’re very cute, and I’ll tell you as many times as it takes you to believe it,” and his lips press soft kisses to your thighs, “my cute bodyguard, you gonna guard my heart as well as you do my body?” 

And before you can reply his breath is warming your soaked cunt, his fingers parting your folds apart, your clit was puffy, your sex slick with your mixed juices, “so pretty, this all just for me?” And you hiss as he holds your outer lips apart, “so this is what your pussy looks like, huh?” And your thighs are twitching, trying to shut, but his palms hold you apart, his heated gaze meeting your shy ones, “you’re perfect, don’t hide from me, you’ve done enough of that,” and he kisses your clit, making you moan, “and I won’t have that anymore,” 

“Satoru—“ and his tongue drags over the length of your dripping pussy experimentally, tip of his tongue flicking against your clit, fuck, how can he this good at this? Your toes are already curling as he groans, his fingers sliding under your thighs, and tugging you impossibly closer to his face. Your fingers weave into his white locks, “‘ngh— 

“Be a good girl and take it,” he grunts against you, slurping your juices, the sounds of his tongue buried in your cunt, fucking you open, dragging across your walls, “taste s’fucking good, how’d I hold out this long without tasting you?” And your eyes flutter open at his groans, seeing him grind down on the sheets, so fucking horny from eating you out, “g’nna just cum from your taste alone, Princess,” you’re so incredibly soft, so soft, despite your walls being so tough, and it makes only eat you eat you from the inside out. 

You’re so close, and all you hear is the sounds of his greedy tongue swallowing you whole, and the sound of your heartbeat and short gasps. Your walls flutter around his tongue, your thighs twitching under his touch, hips jolting forward to meet his touch, his tongue so fucking deep that you can’t see straight, “Toru, please, I’m so close—“ 

And you feel him groan into your pussy, redoubling his efforts before his fingers find your clit and rub at it while he sucks at your cunt. You cum hard, fingernails digging into his scalp, as your back arches as he eagerly eats you out through your orgasm. The wet squelch of your cunt and his tongue slurping against you, drinking every drop you offer him. 

And then finally he’s pulling away with a pop, his chin and mouth dripping with your release and his spit, pink tongue darting out to clean up your cum from his face, wiping off the rest as he looked up at you from white lashed half lidded eyes. 

And you can’t even speak, still coming down from your high, as he kisses up your body again, your thighs still shaking from your orgasm, your fingers reaching for his cheek, tracing his jaw, before cupping his cheek. 

“How the fuck do you know how to do that well?” And he flashes a pretty smile, as he drags his thumb down your lips. 

“I said I was a virgin, I didn’t say I didn’t know how to do some things — and as you know, I’m an excellent student,” and you huff, raising an eyebrow, “and I’m naturally good at everything,” 

“And always so humble,” he laughs, before he kisses you again, letting you taste yourself on his sweet lips, and you’re rolling him over onto his back, his erection slick with precum, pressing against your sensitive cunt, “let me make you feel good now,” you murmur, his cock twitching against you, “wanna ride you, Toru, need you in me,” 

And he’s hissing, as he moves to sit against the headboard, “You keep talking like that princess, I’m g’nna cum before you even—“ and your fingers are reaching between your bodies, and you’re stroking him, smearing his precum over the length of his shaft, making his hips jerk, “fuck—” 

You’re so fucking pretty — your teeth baring down on your bottom lip, as you straddle him, hovering still, his aching tip barely brushing against your dripping cunt, “are you sure?” you murmur, eyes meeting his own, and his lips quirk into a smile. 

“Never been more sure of anything,” and you sink onto him, thick length parting your folds, and he groans, as you fit him in your pussy, inch by inch, until your hips are flush. And fuck, he’s never felt anything better — pleasure runs up and down his body, as his hands find their way to your hips.

You’re tense at first, your back slightly arched, and when he shifts under you, a moan is ripped from your lips, as you begin to adjust to his size, “s’big, Toru, gonna make it hard for me to last too, feels too good,” you’re mumbling, and he’s holding his hips taut, making sure not to move — or else, he’s sure he’d cum in one stroke, “g’nna move ok?” and he’s nodding desperately, your walls already fluttering around him — slick and warm, better anything he’d ever felt. 

You lift up to the tip, before beginning to rock steadily up and down, as he moans, your sweet cunt swallowing him eagerly, as you began to fuck yourself on his cock. Your chest bounces as you ride him, and he can’t resist leaning forward to take a hardened bud in his mouth, your moan making his cock twitch inside you. And he knows why people become addicted to sex — hell, he knew was an addict for it now, but only with you. 

“Fuck, never felt anything this good before, sweetheart, feel s’perfect for me,” he’s grunting, the coil in his stomach growing tighter, as your pace grows more and more sloppy. He wasn’t going to last long, and neither were you from the way you were groaning his name again and again. The wet squelch and smacks of your bodies meeting again and again, only making it harder to hold back, and when he looks to see a white ring of your precum pooling around the base of his dick, he’s nearly gone, “fuck, baby, need you to cum with me,” 

“It’s okay, pretty boy, cum for me,” he keens at the praise, but he’s stubborn, as you established, and he won’t cum until you do too — and so he ensures it, reaching between your bodies to rub meanly at your clit before meeting your thrusts with his own. 

And his tip brushes against that spot that has your vision blurring and toes curling, “Toru, ngh, I’m—” and you’re cumming hard around him, making him spill his warm and thick seed inside your cunt, and he’s groaning you name as he does, your body slowing as you both come down from your highs, your head resting on his shoulder, as your bodies grow limp, resting, his back pressed to the headboard of his bed. 

His fingers trace the curve of your back gently, as he turns his head to press soft kisses to your neck, “Am I still just a distraction?” his lips curled into a smile, and you chuckle, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“Definitely,” but you lean back to cup his cheek, and look at his pretty face again, “but one worth having.” 

You don’t wake from your alarm the next morning. 

Instead, you wake to banging on the door. You both jolt awake, and he’s pulling you into his arms, even as you move to get up, he won’t let go, strong arms around your waist. You’re easing his arms off, trying to be gentle, “Toru, let go, and wait here, your father had a panic room installed in your closet, you hear anything, go inside—” 

“No, I’m coming with you,” and you shake your head. 

“I’m hired to protect you, not the other way around,” you leave his embrace, and face him, his crystal eyes blurred over with worry, “I can handle this,” you reassure him, your fingers intertwining with his, as you press a kiss to his knuckles, “I promise,” 

“But—” and you kiss him gently, silencing his protests, before you slip away into the hallway. 

You enter the living room, shutting the bedroom door without a sound, stalking through the hall, as you grab a knife and pepper spray from the chest of drawers that was pressed to the wall of the hallway — you had several self defense tools hidden all over the apartment. Your heartbeat thunders in your ear, mouth dry, as you approach the door from the side. 

“Who is it?”

“It’s Mr. Gojo, open this door,” and you sigh, relaxing, as you check and unlock the door for him. 

Shinsaku Gojo was only a man you were able to meet once before your work for him began. And it was a privilege even to see him then. His schedule was always packed — multiple meetings, multiple clients, and multiple women, all vying for his attention. Even as you spoke with him the first time, his eyes were on his phone the entire time, except when he had warned you, not to let anything distract you from protecting his son. 

And you had done just that — and even worse, his son had done the distracting, “Mr—” 

“Where’s my son? He hasn’t answered his phone all morning, and neither have you—didn’t you hear from your agency?” his voice is raising, as he dials your number again, and your phone vibrates on the couch. He scoffs, disconnecting the call, as his hard gaze turned back to you, “what if there was a threat? You left your phone—” 

“Dad,” Satoru emerges from the room, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, “it’s not her fault, she forgot it last night when we were watching a movie,” 

“Watching a movie?” he sneers, his cerulean gaze the same as son, but without any of the warmth Satoru had — an icy tundra compared to a warm pool, “she should be watching you, that’s her job—” 

“She was watching me — something you never bothered to do,” and his father’s eyes narrow, “she’s shown more concern for me than you ever had — and she only met me a few weeks ago. What’s your excuse for being a pathetic piece of—“ 

“Satoru,” your fingers brush his shoulder, shaking your head, “sir, I take responsibility for this lapse of judgment. Don’t blame your son,”

Satoru lowers his voice, “it’s not your fault—“ 

“It is. I disregarded by duty to protect you,” your cheeks burn with shame — “what if i had missed an alert you were in danger? What if I failed to protect you because I wasn’t focused? What if—“ 

“Nothing happened,” he says softly, and the twitch of his fingers tells you he’s gonna reach for you, but you step forward, shaking your head. 

“Nothing did,” and you turn to his father, “I’ll protect Satoru until you can find a suitable replacement for me. But I compromised my mission to protect him. I would like to resign as soon as possible,” 

“No! I—“ 

“Agreed,” his father says, “I’ll have your replacement here in an hour, make sure you’re packed up by then,” and his father leaves without another word. 

You brush past him to gather your things, but he’s caught you by the wrist, “Why did you do—“ 

“Gojo,” and you can’t bear to see the hurt in his eyes, “I can’t let my feelings get in the way of keeping you safe—“ 

“I don’t care—“ you cut him off. 

“I do, I couldn’t stand if something happened to you because of me. What it was an emergency last night and you got hurt because of my own carelessness—“ 

“It wasn’t careless what happened last night—“ 

“It was,” you say, walking to your room, “and it won’t happen again.” 

You left. You had expected a fight, an argument, a dramatic show of tears — but nothing. Satoru hadn’t even opened his door to watch you leave. The other bodyguard arrived quickly, and you left the penthouse and didn’t look back. 

It was for the best. 

You had a duty, a role to play, and more than that, you couldn’t let him get hurt because of your inability to compartmentalize. Even so, Satoru’s father was kind enough not to have told your father what happened — or you supposed it was pity in exchange for your quick and easy resignation. 

Fuck. Why were you still thinking about this? You rolled over in bed, burying your head under your comforter. A week out, and you still couldn’t stop worrying about Satoru, about his safety, about the hurt on his face, about that night… 

You had fucked everything up, and fucked Satoru up in the aftermath. 

You poke your head out, and stare at your phone on your bedside table — 7:45 PM, no new messages — you had written out six different messages to him again and again, before deleting them. You wondered how many more you’d write before you finally would rid your mind of him. 

Would you ever rid your mind of him? 

And that’s when your phone rings. But it’s not flashing Satoru’s number — it’s his father. You scramble for the phone — why was he calling? And you can only think of one reason. You can’t say a single word when you pick up — his father already hissing his first question.  

“Where is he?” your words are lodged in your throat, stuck on your heart that had leapt from your chest. 

“What?” 

“Where’s Satoru? He came to you didn’t he?” he growls, and you hear a slam, assumedly his fist against his desk, “he shook off his new bodyguard, and his phone is off,” 

“He hasn’t — I haven’t talked to him since I left—” your mind is running a mile a minute, racking your brain, placing the call on speakerphone, as you text Satoru, where are you? “Where did the bodyguard see him last?” 

“He had him at the dorms, he said he was going to see a friend, and then gave him the slip,” his father groans, “you hear anything from him, otherwise—” 

“I’ll let you know,” you cut him off at the threats — you had more important things to do. You checked your messages, but your messages hadn’t gone through, and you tried calling him — but it went straight to voicemail. Satoru was upset — he could’ve blocked you or turned off his phone to piss off his father, but you didn’t see him doing that. He was an idiot, but he knew his father would lose his shit. 

And then you remembered. The tracker you placed on Satoru — you never took it off. You had sewed it into the insole of his daily shoes (the man had far too many clothes and shoes, but he rarely found the energy to not wear anything besides the shoes he always wore). 

You turned it on, biting your lip as you watched the tracker loaded, and his location popped up — and it wasn’t at his apartment. 

It was in Shibuya — you typed in the address and he was at a house. 

You furrow your brow, who did he know who lived in Shibuya? And then it clicked. 

Fuck. 

Those girls. 

Satoru groaned, fuck, why is his head hurting so badly? 

It wasn’t exactly unusual the last few days. He hadn’t been sleeping much since you left, he spent most of his nights watching TV and rotting in his bed. But everything reminded him of you — his bed, his couch, and even the shows he watched (he had continued one of the shows you both had started one late night). 

His apartment was a disaster — a mess of empty soda cans, empty wrappers of candy and old takeout containers. But he couldn’t be bothered with it — to clean it up or call someone to clean it up. His bodyguard had taken up residence in your room — or rather the guest room — and hardly emerged, keeping an eye on him through cameras his father had installed around the doors and hallway. 

Not that he really needed to, Satoru rarely left his apartment, even had skipped classes for a week — sending an email that he had a very contagious illness and that he’d be happy to attend class if necessary. They sent him materials to work on classwork from home, piled untouched on his kitchen counter, with a possible smudge from the hot fudge he had last night. 

He had made progress — instead of staying in bed, he moved onto the couch for his afternoon nap, and he had just fallen asleep when there was a banging on his door. He groaned into the couch pillow he had just gotten comfortable on, before pulling it onto his head, trying to block out the sounds of the knocking. 

“Satoru! Open up,” he hears Suguru’s voice through the door, “open the fucking door, I know you’re not sick,” 

He pulls himself up, groaning, as he wipes the small amount of drool from his lips, as he meanders to the door, throwing it open. 

“You look like shit,” Suguru says, brushing past him to enter. 

“No ‘hello, you look like shit?’” He mumbles, still rubbing his eyes, “what are you doing here?” 

“I should be asking you that,” he stands, hands in his pockets, as he takes in the mess with a wrinkled nose, “although I see you’ve decided to redecorate,”

“Hilarious,” Satoru replies, lying back on the couch, “did you come here just to hassle me?” 

“I’d be lying if I didn’t say that wasn’t part of it, but the other was to see if you’re ready to pick yourself back up after your breakup—“ 

“It wasn’t a breakup,” Satoru snaps. 

“If it wasn’t, then why does it look like you haven’t showered in several days since she left?” Suguru raises an eyebrow, and Satoru scowls. 

“I’m sick,” he turns away to face the couch, “I don’t have the energy to shower,” 

“But you have the energy to eat about half a dozen mochi doughnuts?” Suguru holds up an empty doughnut box, and Satoru holds a couch pillow to his chest, “Satoru, come on, it isn’t like you to wallow like this,” 

“I’m not wallowing—“ 

“Yeah, yeah, you’re sick, right?” Suguru says sarcastically. Satoru doesn’t need to look at his best friend to know he’s rolling his eyes, “well you don’t seem like you’re sneezing or coughing so go take a shower or something,” Satoru gives a weak fake cough, and he could feel Suguru’s glare, “fine, rot in bed, but you have to get up sometime, just text me when you’re ready to,” 

And Satoru hears Suguru’s footsteps recede to the door, swinging shut with a click behind him. He buries his face in the pillow. It wasn’t a break up. How could it be when you didn’t even have a relationship to begin with? You had made that clear enough when you left without another word to him. He didn’t leave his room until he heard the door shut behind you, and he made his way out to watch you leave out the front door of the apartment. And you didn’t even look back. But you weren’t the type to. 

He felt like he was always looking back — one way or another. 

And even now, as he came to — he was trying to remember what he had done after Suguru left. Someone else had shown up — knocked at his door. Offered to get him out of the house — offered him free alcohol and a distraction. 

And he had agreed — if only to forget about you for a moment. Drinking was the only thing that made him forget — if he only could somehow forget how terrible alcohol tasted. 

His head spun, so was this a hangover? It’s certainly worse than the one he had before — the last one felt like his brain was fuzzy and nausea clawed at his stomach — this time, it felt more akin to someone taking a blender to both of those organs. And his neck, he stretched it both ways. How had he fallen asleep? 

And then he tried to lift up his hand to rub his eyes, and he couldn't, wrist straining against something — his brow furrowed, what was arm caught on — and his eyes fluttered open. It was dark — the only light came from another room, peeking through the crack at the bottom of, what he assumed was, a door. And then as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he looked at his arms. 

Ropes. Twisted around both his arms, binding his wrists and forearms to the arms of a chair, and his vision blurs — what? His legs jerk instinctively, but ropes dig into the flesh of his ankles, and he glanced down only to find what he expected. 

“You’re awake,” the light flicks on, he lifts his head, blinking away the fog in his head and the burning tears slipping from his eyes, “didn’t realize the drug would knock you out for that long,”

He blinks again and again, light flooding his eyes, until he can see and sees a familiar face — “Misaki?” the light sends a piercing jolt through his head, “or is it Yumiko?” 

“Well that’s flattering, you can’t even remember my name?” she sighs, crossing her arms, “well I unfortunately don’t have the same luxury,” and then she adds with a quirk of her lips, “it is Yumiko,” and she steps forward, as his eyes squeeze shut, his head still banging, “sorry what I gave you to knock you out can cause some light sensitivity,” 

It’s slowly sinking in, “I don’t know what kind of weird kink you have, but I’m not interested,” and she scoffs, pressing her knuckles to her chin, “where am I?” 

“Do you think I’m really going to tell you that?” she raises an eyebrow, “I did send you threats after all, you don’t think I’d be that stupid to tell you where I am,” 

He needed to buy time, he needed to find a way to get out of here, and to do that, he needed time, “What? Are you obsessed with me or something? Do you want my body?”

“I’m going to stop your overinflated ego there,” she sighs, leaning against a table that was behind her, “I have a debt to pay and you’re the price,” 

“Debt?” he repeats, “is this where you explain your whole plan? And villain speech? Because I usually I could care less, but I’m feeling a little generous with my time, as I’m a little tied up at the moment, so—” 

“Do you ever shut up?” 

“It’s known to happen on occasion,” she rubs her temples, and then something occurs to him, “how did you get my address? You showed up and invited me,” 

She shakes his head, “You think I couldn’t find out your address after sending you threats?” and she sighs, “You know this is why I tried to do this at the first party — get it over with so I wouldn’t have to deal with this. But then you crushed your beer cup, your little girlfriend got in the way, and that idiot Misaki accidentally switched her shot glass with yours, so I couldn’t get you dosed,” she grits her teeth, “and then the rest of the semester, your girlfriend was up your ass the entire time — but she wasn’t your girlfriend was she? She was your bodyguard,” he says nothing, “you don’t need to confirm it for me, I already found her information, her name, her address—” 

“What do you want? Money? My father will pay anything to get me back. Tell me who you need to repay and he’ll do it,” and her lips curl. 

“So serious now — and so cooperative, maybe I should have kidnapped her too while I was at it,” she shrugs, while she grabs her phone from the table — a burner — “my father will be here to escort you to where you need to go. The yakuza will take it from there,” his blood runs cold, “Don’t cause a fuss and i can promise your girlfriend will stay safe,” 

He grits his teeth — he was so stupid. This was exactly the kind of shit you were trying to protect him from. And it was the thing he landed himself in the moment you left. But he didn’t care — because it was better this way, because you were safe this way.

“Wow, you’re pretty cute when you’re all quiet,” and she’s walking over, and he’s flinching as she drags a manicured nail down his cheek, before tilting it up, “it’s just that mouth that’s a problem,” and her thumb brushes down his lips, “don’t bite, or we might have a problem,” 

And he doesn’t, but then he smiles back, “you might like it when I bite,” he smirks, “why don’t you come here and find out?” And she raises her eyebrows, leaning closer, and he smashes his forehead into hers, “fuck off,” 

She stumbles back, losing her balance, and leaning against the table as she clutches at her forehead. Satoru watches her, trying to wriggle out of his constraints, rope chafing against his skin, red welts rising on his skin, but he only manages to get one hand free before she’s starting to get her bearings, and then he’s trying to free himself, his chair tipping over. And now he’s lying helplessly as she stumbles forward over to him, clutching a knife she grabbed off the table. 

“I have to hand you over to the yakuza, but they didn’t say you had to be completely unharmed,” she presses the tip of the knife to his cheek, “maybe we’ll do something to that pretty face of yours,” he grits his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. 

CRACK. 

He hears a body slump over, and the clatter of the knife against the cement floor, and his eyes open to find you kneeling beside him. He’s blinking, murmuring your name, “What are you—” 

“Well I never did remove that tracker did I?”  You’re cutting the ropes on his wrists and ankles with the knife, “and I’m lucky you wear the same damn shoes everyday,” 

“Why did you come for me?” he says, as you finally free him his restraints, your fingers gentle as they examine the welts and bruises left on his skin, “you could have just told my father where I was or the police,” 

“I could’ve. I saw where you were and I figured it out—“ and your voice wavers, “but all I could think was that I wanted to find you. And I didn’t wanna wait for anyone else. I didn’t want something to happen just because someone else was too slow,” the lump in your throat grows only larger, as you sit, “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you,” 

“Why?” he asks softly, his fingers brush against your cheek, and he knows why — he does, but he needs to hear it. 

“Because I just want…to be the one to protect you,” you admit, tears burning at your eyes, as your thumb traces over his rope burns and bruises, “I wish that I could have,” 

“You did a pretty good job, considering I almost was about to get my face cut up,” and he gently wipes your tears away, “imagine what a tragedy that would be,” 

You give a watery chuckle, cupping his cheeks, “I’m sorry,” and he opens his mouth, “no i really am. I shouldn’t have slept with you, only to cut and run after. I thought…I thought I was doing you a favor,” 

“How?” And you sigh, blinking away your tears. 

“I put your life in danger by doing that. I couldn’t do that. I knew the only way you’d let me go is…if I lied to you and said I didn’t care about you,” you bite your bottom lip, “and I’m sorry because I only hurt you more in the end,” 

He kisses your lips gently, chastely, his breath warming your lips as he parts from them, “you did,” and you scoff, pushing him playfully, “but as long as you promise not to do it again, I think I can find it in my incredibly generous heart to forgive you,” 

You kiss him again, softly, your fingers sliding to the back his neck, into his undercut, “I promise,” and he grins, before leaning back to kiss you again, when a cough behind you catches your attention. 

“My father will be getting here shortly you idiots, while you gaze fucking stupidly into each other’s eyes,” she sneers, and you raise an eyebrow. 

“You think I’d come here without calling the police? They already have picked up your father — and they should be almost here—“ and the sounds of an ambulance and police sirens come into earshot. 

“Good timing,” Satoru mutters, as Yumiko tries and fails to stumble to her feet, and you get up and pin her to the ground. Satoru raises an eyebrow, and watches, as you glance back at him, tilting your head in question, “nothing, it’s just…hot to see you in action,” 

You laugh, “Did she hit your head too?” And he shrugs, as he gets onto this feet with shaky legs, “Satoru—“ 

And he sits next to you, leaning on your shoulder, “just let me rest here for a minute,” he mumbles. 

For the first time since you left, Satoru felt like he could finally rest. 

And Satoru did rest, he realized as he blinked awake to the ambient sounds of the hospital room, the distinct beep of the heartbeat monitor, the dim light of the moon filtering through the shades, and the distant sounds of people walking through the hall. He hears the sounds of sheets rustling, and his gaze snaps over to his left. 

His gaze softens. You were fast asleep beside him, your arms tucked under your head, your breaths were soft, as they were the night you two had spent together. He sat himself up — fingers running through your hair gently. You had fallen asleep before him that night, face buried in the crook of his neck, and your legs entangled with his. And now you slept beside him on a chair, leaning on his bedside. 

His fingers carded through your hair again, and you stirred, as he swore under his breath, your eyes fluttered open, “Toru?” you mumbled, still half asleep, and he hummed. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to wake you,” he sighed softly, “why are you sleeping here? You should have gone home,” you sit up, stretching, as you furrow your brow, eyes scanning him for any sign of an injury or distress. 

“I wanted to make sure you were okay — you were unconscious, but no concussion thankfully. I tried to wake you up but you wouldn’t wake,” you sigh, words tumbling out almost faster than you can think of them, “they mostly kept you for observation, but are you feeling okay? Should I get the nurse—“ 

And he’s pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around you, as he sighs, burying his face in your neck, “I just want to stay like this for a while,” he murmurs, “I got everything I need right here, got it?” He feels you nod, and he feels the hint of your tears on his skin, but says nothing, only his lips quirk, “you did mean your promise?” 

“I did, I won’t leave like that again,” and he’s leaning back, head tilted, and you chuckle, “I mean I won’t leave you at all, how’s that?” 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, leaning closer, and his heart squeezes when he hears your breath hitch as he does. His eyes flicker to your lips and back, “can I kiss—“ 

But you kiss him first, softly, your fingers brushing his cheek, and god, why was it that a single touch from you melted him away to nothing? Whittled his world view to a pin where all he could feel, all he could see, was you. 

And then you kiss his cheeks, his chin, his jaw, and then your teeth graze the soft part of his neck, drawing a pretty gasp from his lips, as you suck lightly on his skin. 

He’s whispering your name, breath sucked from his lungs as if your teeth had pierced through his throat instead of just his skin, “what was that for?” 

And you smile, “so everyone knows you’re mine.” 

“You’re changing your major?” Suguru raises his eyebrow, as he lounges on Satoru’s couch, holding his head up with his elbow propped against the top of the couch, “your father must’ve been thrilled about that,” 

“He lost his shit, but that geezer can fuck off,” Satoru shrugs, “he threatened to not pay my tuition, but once I threatened to go public with his dealings with the yakuza, he saw it my way,” 

Suguru tilts his head, “His what?” 

You bring over tea from the kitchen, placing it on the table, “After what Satoru found out from Yumiko and her father, their debt to the yakuza would have been paid off by kidnapping one of Satoru’s father’s close relatives, but I was wondering why was the yakuza so eager to do so?” 

“Apparently my old man had the brilliant idea of entertaining the yakuza on some deal he was making,” Satoru explains, leaning back on the couch, as you sit against his legs, “and when he backed out, the yakuza wanted to push it through anyway — and well, thus their blackmail of Yumiko’s father, once they found out his daughter went to school with me.” 

“Yeah, turns out her father had gambling debts owed to the yakuza,” you sighed, “she got caught in the crossfire — I almost feel bad,” 

“Speak for yourself, she drugged me, tied me to a chair, and held a knife to my face,” Satoru scoffs, sipping his tea that he had you drown in sugar. 

“Well you didn’t complain when I did that last night,” you reply, making both Satoru and Suguru choke, and you laughed, squealing when Satoru lifts you into his lap to bury his face into your back. 

“You two are officially sickening to be around,” Suguru grimaces, still coughing from choking down his tea, “I think I liked it better when he was wasting away in his apartment,” 

“You wasted away after I left?” You turn to look at Satoru, who shoots a glare at Suguru, “sorry Geto, that’s not happening again,” and Satoru softens his gaze, pressing a kiss to your head. 

“Alright, that’s it, I’m leaving,” Suguru gets to his feet, as he glances back at you two, “don’t rush to get up, I’ll see myself out,” he rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t worry we weren’t going to,” Satoru pulls you closer, and Suguru narrows his eyes, before his lips curl into a grin. 

“Just for that, I’m sending your girlfriend a picture of the mess you looked like when she left,” Satoru gapes at him, while you bite back a laugh. 

“Suguru!” Satoru calls, but the door’s shut, and you’re starting to giggle. He’s pouting now, “so my girlfriend thinks it's funny to see me in the pathetic state she left me in?” 

“Oh your girlfriend finds it very funny, and she might even make it her boyfriend’s contact picture,” you smirk, and he’s biting back a smile, “What?” 

“This is just the first time we called each other that,” he mumbles, a slight dusting of pink on his cheeks, “it’s nice,” he admits. 

“Well, I am yours, aren’t I?” you smile, and he presses a kiss to your lips, as he would again and again. 

“My one and only.” 

✧ a/n: so this fic was so freaking long. i'm sorry it took so long to post this - i got a little sidetracked by prof geto haha. but i'm hoping to start on the next one soon :). i think i'll put a poll up on which one i should write next! edit: forgot to tag the people who requested this, its now added in T_T

✧ taglist: @teatreeoilll, @intrxspectiv, @marvel-fanaticz, @ilovemybabes, @lwustyz, @jayathelostdragon, @vampzys, @sleazymac-n-cheesy, @soilmayo, @iwassentfromhell, @lobotomy-kaisen, @gojoallmine, @forest-hashira, @h3artpiecexx, @lailarratx, @gummibat, @hanlay, @ilovewoo9, @nvmlolo, @h6avenly, @eriyvesa, @alexandraioann4, @eclipsephase, @sokkasmoon, @aizzon, @makotome9, @daddytojji, @fluffy-pancakes01, @imjustmememe, @spookyy-gracee, @forest-fruits-jam, @that-goth-bisexual, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @lookinreality,

[aetherdoesthings]

would you like some cake? (pt 2)

forethoughts: if you want to read part one it's would you like some new toys :D. i'm literally going to go home in a few hours and pull for arlecchino i'm so excited so happy so on adrenaline i can't ahhhh

notes: gn!child!reader, but fem!reader in mind. NOT AN X READER, READER IS A CHILD!!!

You don’t remember when was the last time you stepped foot in the playroom again. Father said she would take you to a different playroom, away from the others. You spent every day in that new playroom with Father. Father always gave you an option to go back. The door was always wide open. Distant sounds of the other children laughing and cheering rang in your ears. 

Father said you were getting better day by day. Much more used to your new toys. Father even allowed you to bring your toys with you everywhere. One inside your boots, one strapped to your belt. Father even allowed you to bring one to your room. 

Your room. Instead of the room you shared with the others, Father had moved you. Closer to her office. You have your own room now. Father had decorated it herself, she said. The mattress felt like three of the mattresses in your old room stacked upon each other. The room made you feel tiny. Alone. But Father was always there. Father was always with you.

Father said you were almost as skilled as the guards that stood outside the orphanage. 

Father was proud.

Father was proud of you.

Father always read you bedtime stories. Tucked you in, planting a soft kiss on your forehead before turning off the lights. Father always taught you to not listen to what the other children said. That the only person you should be listening to is her and yourself. 

You don’t remember when was the last time you felt eyes casted on you and words piercing your heart when you ate your meals. You still ate your meals in the hall with the other children; Father was adamant that you would still have some interaction with the others. But you didn’t care. 

Father made sure you knew your worth. 

~

Using your chopsticks, you fished up a bundle of noodles, putting it in your spoon and then in your mouth. You chewed, and then fished up another bundle of noodles. The children behind your back were loud and rowdy as usual. Father said to pay no mind to them. This time was different.

They were talking about Father.

It was Father’s birthday tomorrow. 

Father was always secretive and didn’t reveal much about herself. They were planning on surprising her with a big party in the playroom. Of course, you weren’t part of it.

Father was always there for you, you thought. Never shy from giving you gifts and words of advice on the days you needed them. 

You stood up from your seat, carrying your empty udon bowl to the sinks, giving it a quick rinse before putting it on the racks. You walked out of the hall, letting your feet take you where your mind wanted to go.

You closed the door to your new room, taking a seat behind your desk as you took out two sheets of paper, and some crayons Father had gifted you. While the rest played and had fun, you were in your room, scribbling away as best as you could with your black crayon. With your second piece of paper, you took out more colors from the box.

Father was always there for you.

You’d be a bad kid if you didn’t do the same, right?

The other’s idea of a celebration was tricking Father to go to the playroom, then cheering and singing happy birthday to Father while they played with Father. That meant that Father was unavailable to give you your daily lessons on how to properly play with your new toys. Fortunately you were busy too.

You entered the kitchen the moment you heard everyone else chant happy birthday in all different keys, the wide empty space with high workstations and cabinets sending doubt into your head. You shook it away, closing the door behind you with two hands, before taking a small tour around the space you would work with. Seeing that dinner was just served, all the cooks were done, leaving you a window of time to carry out your plan. Using a nearby stepping stool, you climbed onto the counters, reaching the high cabinets that were attached to the roof. Just as fate intended it to be a cooking book fell onto your lap, flipped to the page you wanted to go on. You closed the cabinet door, placing the cooking book by your side as you placed your boots on the stepping stool. 

Father said you were good at looking for what you needed.

Father said you were good at doing what you wanted to do.

You prayed Father was right.

With the big book set on one counter, you scurried around the kitchen, gathering all the required ingredients and items you needed next to the book. You found two more stepping stools, allowing you to move around on each stool like different stations. 

Father said your academic level was higher than the rest; you were doing exams meant for ten year olds.

“Pour… flour… in a bowl…” You muttered, finger on each word. You did as the instructions said, scooping out some flour and dumping it into a bowl.

“Egg…Sugar…Mix… Bake…”

For the rest of the day, you buried yourself in work, making what they called a ‘batter’. You had nearly dropped your hard made batter when you had to place the mold inside the oven, a new lesson learnt the hard way. After as much time as the book said, you took the mold out, this time wearing the funny shaped gloves on top of the counter next to the oven. With all your strength, you lifted the baked circular batter into a cart, before wheeling the cart back to your workstation. As the batter was baking, you had prepared a frosting, as they called it. Using a flat rectangle shaped object that had its corners rounded out, you spread the frosting over the top of the cake, before adding a fresh cherry to the top. 

The celebration had stopped. 

You heard Father’s voice tell the children it was time for bed. You gripped onto the counter, trying not to get shaken by the earthquake created by the hoard of orphans storming up to their room. Holding your breath, you waited until you couldn’t hear Father’s footsteps anymore, before letting out a sigh. You placed your finished cake on a pretty plate, using two hands to hold each side before exiting the kitchen.

~

You let out a deep breath, looking at the gold and crimson ornate double door in front of you. With the papers in your pocket, cake in hand, you used your shoulder to turn the doorknob, stumbling into Father’s office. 

“Y/N?” Father. You turned around, facing Father. Father was behind her desk, hand moving from her forehead to her chin as she looked at you with a playful grin. Since your back was still turned to her, she couldn’t see the cake you made.

“I was worried sick about you, my dear. I didn’t see you at the celebration the others held for me.” Father chuckled. “Where were you? Not even the caretakers or workers could find you.”

You opted to not answer her question, rather hobble your way over to Father’s desk with your little legs. You placed your creation on the same place Father had set you when you got injured. Father looked at the cake, her eyebrows raised as she tried to conceal the grin that was spreading on her face. She pointed at the candle that was stabbed into the cake next to the cherry with her index finger, and the wick was instantly lit on fire. 

“U-Umm…. I overheard it was Father’s birthday… so I wanted to do something special for Father…” You mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve as you tried to maintain eye contact with her. “I-I made you a cake. I t-tried my best. Would Father care to try my cake?”

Father let out a chuckle, looking at you with a soft and warm gaze. “You made a cake? All for me?”

“I-I wrote a c-card too…” You pulled the card and the second piece of paper out of your pocket, placing it next to the cake.

“Y/N… I…” Father chuckled, the corners of her mouth reaching her eyes. You’d never seen her look at you like this. Yes, she was always happy and cheerful. But never this much. Even as she tried to conceal it, you had spent enough time with her to know that she was feeling much more than a simple grin. 

“Of course I would love to try your cake.” Father took the fork that was placed next to the cake, digging out a portion of your creation before putting it in her mouth. You could’ve sworn you saw a glimmer in her eyes. She took another bite, nodding her head and smiling at you.

“D-Does Father like it?” You asked with a worried tone. 

“I love it, my dear.” Father hummed, forking out another chunk of your cake, putting the fork in front of your mouth. “Why don’t you try your own creation?”

“But it’s Father’s cake.”

“I insist.”

“O-Okay.” You wrapped your mouth around the fork, chewing on the cake you made. A smile crept on your face as you swallowed the bite. Thank the gods you had actually made food and not poison.

“Come here, my child.” Father patted on her laps. You walked around her desk, climbing on her laps as you looked up at her. She continued to spoon feed herself and you, wiping away any crumbs on your lips with her finger.

“H-Happy Birthday, Father.” You exclaimed.

“Thank you, my dear Y/N.” Father smiled at you, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. “I loved it, my little cook. This was the best birthday present ever.”

You could feel serotonin rush through your body. “R-Really?”

“Yes! Why would I ever lie to you, my dear?” Father hummed. “Thank you for such a wonderful birthday gift, my dear.”

~

Arlecchino sat on her chair, a sigh exiting her mouth as she looked at the card you had written, as well as the piece of paper. She had read a quick bedtime story to you, tucking you into bed before going back to her office. Arlecchino opened the letter, as the words entered her heart, fueling that flame of hers she carried and protected.

“Father,

haqqy dirthbay. I hoqe you hab a goob bay anb are haqqy. thank you for everything you bo for me. i really like my new toys.

Y/N.”

[cinnamoneve]

𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐧.

eonian \ əʊnɪən \ (adj.) - continuing forever or indefinitely; lasting for an immeasurable amount of time

❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x gn!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: food always tastes better when it's shared with someone you love. even if you're too tired to appreciate it ❆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader doesn't like red bean paste lol (this is self indulgent because i do not like red bean paste. im sorry.) ❆ 𝐰𝐜: 2k ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: i love domesticity i love boring things about being in love!!! in my mind gojo isn't sealed and nothing bad ever happens to him, he's eating taiyaki on the floor and happy ♡ please enjoy

satoru said he’d be home hours ago.

tracking him down when he was out on a mission was near impossible. you both agreed that if there was any kind of emergency, he’d definitely find a way to get to you. but if not, no news was good news with satoru’s work.

unfortunately, this made any type of planning difficult for the two of you, so you had to soak up all the time together you could.

by the time you had finished dinner, your appetite was gone, and you’d realized that the last thing you wanted to do was eat by yourself in the quiet apartment. you covered the food, as if a thin layer of plastic would help to preserve the presentation and flavor. satoru would eat when he’s home, and you’d join him, you thought.

mealtimes always made satoru a little bashful. he refused to eat without you, and would pout if you didn’t uphold your end of it as well. satoru firmly believes that food always tastes better when you share it with someone you love. whether or not it’s true, or whether or not you believe it yourself, satoru has an almost parasitic way of infecting you with every inch of him; so throughout your entire relationship, you can count all the meals you’ve eaten alone on one hand.

hidden beneath the five languages of love, there has to be a secret, sixth one that satoru has surrounding food. what better way to tell you he loves you than to cut your apples the way you like? or remember your takeout order? not to mention the sampling of any dessert place within a certain radius of his mission, just for him to steal a bite. or two. or three.

sharing a meal with satoru felt deeply intimate. with every bite from his plate, it felt like his love was devouring you at the same time. whole, or piece by piece, even. he had always wondered if you’d caught on that his sweet tooth developed after he kissed you for the first time. he’s just hoping to find something sweet enough to hold himself over until the next time he gets to fall in love with you again, and again.

collapsing on the couch, you drifted off thinking about what dessert he’d bring you this time. some type of pastry? a sweet bread, doughnut, or maybe a cake sampling? you wondered if he’d smear icing on your nose so he could kiss it off again, or how many kisses he’d steal between bites. or even, the gentle way he held his hand underneath your chin to catch any stray crumbs.

your daydreaming got the best of you, however, and you hadn't realized the time when you heard the all-too familiar sound of a key jingling in the door handle.

you sit up a bit and make yourself look like you weren’t fantasizing about a man who is already and desperately yours. you didn’t want satoru to feel guilty–he wouldn’t want you to stay up too late for him.

it’s around 3am when the door opens.

he looks wiped. your poor, pouty boyfriend melted in your arms when you met him at the door.

“i missed you, love,” was all he managed to croak out before exhaustion hit him, nearly leaning on all of you with his weight to keep himself stable.

“i saved you something to eat, satoru,”

“oh, thank you. i love you,”

he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead after mumbling the confession, and shuffled his way into the kitchen. not even halfway in, his legs called it quits and he resorted to sitting down on the cold floor.

“i don’t think i’m moving from this spot”

“i’ll join you, honey,” you spoke softly, almost nervous that your words would shatter him. 

you leaned down and helped him take off his blindfold. he ran his fingers through his hair, eager to loosen it up and relieve the tension building. 

you notice a white box wrapped in delicate twine. 

“can i take that from you? where can i put this?”

satoru rubs the day out of his eyes. “anywhere’s fine. this shop near me today is known for its taiyaki. i couldn’t remember which filling you liked, so i got them all. we don’t have to eat them now”

satoru had watched you order taiyaki before, on numerous occasions. for a man who can remember every detail of orders from restaurants you like, there’s no way in hell he could ever forget which filling you preferred. chalk it up to exhaustion, maybe, or his own selfish intention of eating the ones you don’t like.

you grabbed the box and put it on the counter, silently.

satoru watched your every step as you carefully reheated the dinner you made. although, a puzzled expression crossed his pretty face when he saw you reheating two plates instead of one.

“you didn’t eat?” he asked, almost whispering.

“hm?” you almost didn’t hear him. “oh, no, satoru, how could i? i wanted to wait for you”

he rests his head on the cabinets behind him, gently pouting away from you.

“it’s late, love, you could’ve eaten without me.”

his voice was sincere, but you knew his words weren’t. eating alone would’ve been the straw that broke the camel's back, he realized, and he regretted his bold-faced lie the second the words left his mouth.

all you did was continue to heat up your plates, a soft smile adorning your tired features. satoru looked at you like you were made of an ornate and delicate glass, something precious to admire but never touch. you were almost a heavenly treasure, tonight especially, and he couldn’t help but watch in silence.

you grabbed your plates and sat with him on the floor, just enough to be close but not in his personal space. extending out your legs to get comfortable, satoru gently laced his long, spindly legs with yours. anything to be in your space.

“eat up, it’s hot,” was all you said.

satoru did as he was told, grabbing the plate from your hands gently so as to not burn himself.  

“thank you for the food,”

you sat in silence for a bit, just enjoying the meal you made and each other’s presence. usually, satoru is buzzing to tell you about work missions; the kind of curse, how his students did, if he had to dramatically save them (and how cool he looked doing it too). tonight was different. you’re not sure if something happened or if he was just too tired to even bring it up, but you still wanted to ask.

“do you wanna talk about your mission today, satoru?”

“mmm, there’s nothing to talk about, babe,” he added between bites, “it was super lame and long. i missed you the whole time, though”

“thinking about me with an ugly curse in front of you, how romantic”

“ah, hush, you know what i mean,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his leg against yours. “how about you, how was your day?”

you finish your meal and set your clean plate on the kitchen floor with a big sigh. 

“booooring,” you shifted closer to satoru as he finished up as well, “i had no work to do, so i just hung out here all day.”

“mmm, sounds fun though. a day to do nothing, i mean” satoru put his hand on your leg as he looked off at the floor. 

he wondered how he’d spend a day off. his first thought was to spend it with you, and the next, would be to take his students out. maybe to an expensive shop nobara wanted to see so he could spoil her a bit, or take yuuji to some movie he’s begged someone, anyone, to see with him. or actually, the day could be spent finding megumi a quiet bookstore in a quaint and cozy town so he can truly soak up some alone time.

naturally, his thoughts go back to you, and how you could spend the time together. god, the possibilities were just endless. a day trip? a movie marathon? a romantic day together filled with any type of date you’ve ever wanted? he didn’t care. a day in bed with you would be a day fulfilling and well-spent.

not once did he consider spending it alone. he was selfless like that, but also selfish like that. 

you grabbed his plate and stood up to put it in the sink, grabbing the pastry box on your way back to joining him on the floor.

“doing nothing is fun, i guess, until it really isn't. it’s lame being alone,” you say. you sit a little bit closer to him than before, throwing out your regard for satoru’s personal space. if anything, his hand on your thigh was an indication, a blinding one, really, that you should be closer to him.

satoru’s leg finds yours as his hands reach for the box. 

“what, you miss me or something?” 

his ridiculous question forms a reluctant smile on your lips. you look at him as he gently holds one of the taiyaki between his teeth, passing you the box and avoiding eye contact.

“hmm, maybe a little,” you answer, grabbing the box from his lap.

satoru takes a bite and looks at you, exaggeratedly offended.

his mouth is full.

“only a little?” 

“yeah. just, like, a teensy bit”

satoru sighs dramatically after he swallows his first bite.

“and to think i brought home your favorite filling too, from a famous taiyaki shop”

you meticulously pick out one of the crispy fish from the box, hoping you guessed the filling correctly.

“i thought you didn’t remember my favorite,”

satoru stops chewing for a second to mull it over.

“c’mon. did you really believe that?”

“hehe, no,” you giggle, “you’re not good at lying to me, you know”

“whatever,” he groans, finishing off his last bite.

biting into yours, you realize you picked wrong, and the taste of anko fills your mouth. you stop chewing immediately.

“blegh, i got a red bean paste filled one,” you moan.

“i’ll eat it, baby,” satoru grabs the fish and the box from your hands. he picks out another. “this one is chocolate filled, and this one is custard. i wasn’t sure if you liked matcha, but i got a couple of those too,”

you grab your favorite from the ones he pointed out, and scoot up to kiss him on the jaw.

“thank you, satoru, this is sweet.”

“i don’t even know how you function without liking anko,” satoru replies, “even if it’s a red flag, you’re so welcome,”

you both continue to eat your treats together, commenting on how the shop lives up to its reputation. satoru helps you to your feet as you begin putting the leftovers away for the night.

as you turn to the bedroom for your long overdue sleep, satoru doesn’t follow.

“coming to bed, honey?” you ask.

“i’m gonna clean up a little. you don’t have to wait for me,”

“leave it for the night, satoru, it’s been a hell of a day,”

if one person cooks, the other cleans. it was an unwritten rule in the household. satoru liked keeping a clean house to maintain a clear mind, but he was relieved to hear tonight was the exception.

he turns off the lights and finds you on his way to the bedroom.

“thank you for waiting for me tonight, my love”

“i only did so the food would taste better, you know,” you laugh back.

“i’d say it was worth it then.”

if only food could taste this good forever, could be this sweet, you would wait a million years just to sit with satoru on the kitchen floor.

all content © cinnamoneve 2023. do not repost, modify, steal, or copy without permission.

[clairdelunelove]

the problem with yuuji’s birthday is that he’s fine with literally anything. 

he isn’t the type to extravagantly celebrate the day and typically spends it running through his daily routine. he's a simple guy. doesn’t deviate from the usual unless his friends decide to throw him a party or plan a reservation. and he’s extremely grateful for it! don’t get him wrong! but honestly, the most he’d do is treat himself to his favorite restaurant, order a piping hot rice bowl with loads of toppings, and call it a day. to him, it’s just a regular, standard day. this is the same guy that immediately gravitates to wearing hoodies because he’s indecisive! it means everything to you, however. and its significance only grows when the two of you start dating and the precious day looms closer. 

“there isn’t anything that you want for your birthday?” you tilt your head as you desperately pry for some sort of lead that could point you in the right direction, “it could be anything!” 

“y’know that I’ll like anything you get me!” 

the statement is normally an automatic response for most people to say as a way to portray a bit of humility. similar to a dismissive wave of the hand. but when you peer at the blushy haired male beside you, he’s the epitome of genuine. like he truly would appreciate and cherish anything that you gifted him. no matter how trivial or insignificant it is. his eyes are wide, sincere in that oblivious habit he has that causes your cheeks to burn. 

“how about we go somewhere?” you suggest before rattling off a couple places that most would deem fun, “maybe to the new cafe that just opened? an arcade? we could take a trip to an amusement park?” 

his lips curl into a soft grin as his broad shoulders lift into an easygoing shrug, “sounds fun! as long as you’re goin’ with me!” 

-

you end up deciding to spend the day at the nearest park and having a picnic. and you’re bustling around– cooking/packing his favorite meal, rushing to pick up a small cake at the local bakery, and setting up at the perfect spot that overlooks the gleaming pond. you spent countless nights planning this day and you’d do anything to give back a fraction of the amount of happiness he continually gives you. so you’re sweating by the end of it. huffing and swiping at your flushed face while yuuji heartily laughs at your impassioned effort. 

“it looks great,” his hand drops to yours to give it a reassuring squeeze, “come and relax with me, yeah?” 

he pats at the spot beside him, gently guiding you to obediently sink down and finally rest. it’s adequately comfortable due to yuuji stripping off his jacket and spreading it over the picnic blanket so you can cozily sprawl. and the gesture is so sickeningly sweet– so yuuji. especially with how his eyes lowly droop to where his slender fingers reach to press against the frilly outfit you’re wearing. it’s a delicate piece that you bought just for the occasion and he murmurs his admiration for it. you’re just the prettiest for him.

but your mind is still frazzled. instinctively moving to open the wicker basket, you’re whisked away in another task and the loss of contact has him childishly grumbling. he’s tugging at you in an attempt to coerce you back to him. just needy, grabby hands at your waist. he wishes for you to unwind because it genuinely has been the best birthday he’s ever had. sees the effort you went through to put this all together. all the care and consideration that you’ve put into the small details that cause him to melt into a puddle. doesn’t understand how he’s deserving of your adoring love. 

the confession tumbles out from your pouty lips before you can process it, “everything has to be perfect, though. it’s your birthday, yuu.” 

and the sentiment has his heart crooning for you even more. he gazes at you, patient and tender. you’re beautiful. bathed in the sun’s rays and glimmering as the field’s flowers act as your backdrop. you’re a vision that he’d dutifully bid his time into studying. he’s memorized the slant of your brow and the sweep of your lashes. he would search for you in every life. fortunately, luck was on his side during this one. 

leaning in, he presses a sugary kiss onto your glossy lips. licks his own when he pulls away in a pursuit to taste you better. his strength and weakness is, inherently, you. 

then, he rests his forehead against yours before whispering, “it is perfect. I have you.”

-

isn't my best work but I wanted to write a lil something for his bday. happy yuuji day, loves •ᴗ•

[twiixr4kidz]

Hii I was wondering if you could make Seven evil exes x reader and it's like their first anniversary hehe thanks!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

I AM SO SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE I HOPE U ENJOY IT ANYWAYS

matthew patel

he's been preparing for MONTHS

he wants everything to be absolutely perfect

you're gonna come home to the house being covered in rose petals and balloons

the smell of a fresh, homemade meal wafting through the halls

the sound of a hot bath being drawn, filled to the brim with the most delicious-smelling bubble bath

and matthew, with a small gift in hand

in that box may or may not be a specific piece of jewelry you'd been eyeing for like, ever :3

matthew LISTENS

lucas lee

he invites you over and hands you a fancy outfit, perfect for a night out

he tells you to take all the time you need to get ready while he does the same

once you're ready, he will not shut up about how fucking incredible he thinks you look

and then, it's time for the bougiest dinner you've ever eaten

the sky is the limit, and lucas is more than willing to pay for whatever you want

he even gets the most expensive champagne

AND DID I MENTION IT WAS A PRIVATE DINING ROOM???

todd ingram

spoiler alert, he's been writing a song about you since he first began having feelings for you

definitely sits you down beforehand to plan something, except he doesn't tell you that it's for your anniversary

he wakes you up with breakfast in bed and a fresh pitcher of your favorite flowers on your bedside table

he lets you sleep in, but not TOO late - you have a very busy day ahead, full of the most stomach-churningly sweet romantic activities ever (todd's a little bit of a cornball but in the best way possible)

roxie richter

roxie gets so excited the night before that she literally keeps you up until midnight just so she can scream "HAPPY ANNIVERSARY" and pop confetti canons that somehow?? spawned into her hands??

she does let you sleep eventually, but she wakes you up as soon as she sees fit

the entire house is fucking COVERED in the tackiest party city decorations

for breakfast? a cake. that she made. at 3am. (she didn't sleep)

she also wanted to do something fun for your anniversary... by fun i mean a nerf gun fight

plus side, if you win, you get to pick dinner!!

kyle katayanagi

at first, kyle sort of brushes off your anniversary

trust me, he cares. he cares A LOT. but he literally has no idea what to do for an anniversary so him brushing it off is his way of saying "WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO"

the day of, he'll invite you over without saying much

when you get to his house, he (nervously) greets you with some hand-picked flowers and your favorite drink

he's the kind of guy to get you one of those little gift baskets that has things like your favorite snacks, a movie, a comfy pair of pj pants, a stuffed animal, and a little giftcard

at the very bottom, tucked into the folds of the pj pants, is a letter where he expresses how lucky he is to have you in his life

ken katayanagi

ken's a big planner but a bad celebrator

similarly to his brother, he also isn't really sure about what to do for your anniversary

he's probably going to keep it on the simpler side because he doesn't want to overwhelm you

he pays attention to the things you say you like and you want, and he'll pick out a couple that he knew you really wanted

and of course, he's going to treat you to dinner because what kind of gentleman would he be if he didn't??

gideon graves

i've said it once and i'll say it again, gideon LOVES to spoil you

he gives you gifts all the time, and your anniversary is no different

the gifts that he gives on your anniversary are one the more expensive side

he either makes or buys all of your favorite foods for you

AND, when you thought he already did the most, he surprises you with two tickets for a trip to a dream location of your choice, including plenty of fun activities, lots of sight seeing, and LOTS of rest n relaxation

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Deal Breaker

Trans!Santiago Garcia X GN!Reader • Rating: PG  Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info •

A/N: Written for @romanarose's Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024! (Super late, but this is for the 'coming out' theme, thank you for letting me post it so late💚) This is super self-indulgent and just like *dreamy sigh* what would be the nicest reaction someone would have to someone else telling them they're trans.

Summary: Santi has something to tell you.

Warnings: overuse of italics, swearing, Santi being anxious, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 1014

Santi paced back and forth outside of your house, practically wearing a groove into the pavement. (And trying not to walk into the lamp post again.) 

He’d been there for over ten minutes, trying his best to work up enough nerve to knock on your door. 

You’d been on one date, a chill one. Just a drink and cake at a little coffee shop he’d recommended. (Or, more correctly, Will had recommended and Santi had taken credit for.) You’d both ended up staying there talking for almost four hours. 

You've been messaging everyday, joking, sending voice notes, videos and pictures. Everything was going great. He liked you. A lot. 

And now he was going to fuck it all up. 

“Hi, just wanted to let you know…” He muttered under his breath, repeating what he was going to say, what he needed to say. “I just thought you should know… you know… before this gets any further, not that things have to get further, I mean… I want to say I like you and I’m… I’m…” 

“Santi?” 

He jumps, visibly jumps, his eyes wide like a rabbit startled by headlights. 

You find it quite endearing the way he looks at you, a bright panic. You’d just been grabbing some last minute bits and pieces and your local corner shop for the meal you were making together tonight. 

“Trans!” Santi says a little too loud. 

“What?” 

“Erm…”

“Trains?” 

“No.” 

“What did you say?”

He pauses, biting his bottom lip. Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck. “Trans.” He says very softly, closing his eyes for a second. This was not how it was meant to go. “I’m… I wanted to tell you before… I really like you and… you should know… I’m, I’m trans. I’m a trans man.” 

He looks up at you, ready to see disgust. Rejection. 

Instead you smile warmly and nod. “Okay, thank you for telling me.” You point to your front door, “you wanna go inside?” 

He pauses, staring at you for a long moment as his brain tries to and two and two together but keeps getting minus seven. “I… erm… inside?” 

“For the food, the meal date? We were gonna cook together?” You say politely, mistaking his confusion.

“You, you still want to… go out with me?” He doesn’t mean for the words to come out so softly, so small. 

It’s your turn to pause and truly absorb what he said. Your eyes widening as realisation dawns. “Oh, of course! Santi, fuck, sorry,” you put you hand on his arm and squeeze reassuringly. “It’s not a problem for me that you're trans, no problem at all. Doesn’t affect anything. I really like you too.” 

He gives you a brilliant smile, all of his nervous energy outpouring as relief washes over. 

He nods and walks with you as you both move towards the door, taking your shopping bag for you as you fish out your keys. 

“Do you, erm,” he pauses for a second to take off his shoes as you do the same, “do you have any… questions?” 

You turn away just to shut the door before you look back at him. “Questions?” 

“Yeah… about the trans stuff.” He shakes his head, trying to sound more assertive. Fuck, being shot at was always easier than this. “I mean, me being trans.” 

“Do you usually get questions?” 

He nods. 

You pause, thinking it over for a second. “Do you want me to ask questions?” You say sincerely. 

He smiles and rubs the back of his head. “You know, no one's ever asked that before.” 

You smile back.

“Erm, yeah, yeah,” he nods, “questions would be good actually. Normal.” 

You laugh good naturedly, “kay,” you make your way to the kitchen, pointing out the different rooms as you go. 

“Your house is really nice.” 

“Thank you.” 

“And thank you for, well, being so… for being normal about how I blurted it out outside, usually I’m a bit more together.” He says, a touch of bashfulness in his tone. 

“Are people usually not normal? Wait, that’s a numb as fuck question.”

Santi laughs as you pull a face. “A lot of people are very normal about it,” he smiles, “but I don’t tell a lot of people.” 

You nod as you start to unpack your bag, Santi jumps in to help. “So, when did you transition?” 

“Well,” he takes a deep breath. “I know it’s a cliche but I kind of always knew, you know?” 

“Not cliche, just a common experience.” You smile and nudge your shoulder into his. 

He grins. “Started ‘dressing like a boy’ when I was 15, but it wasn’t until I was 18 and out of the house that I changed my name and stuff.” 

You nod. 

“Been on T for a long time now. Managed to get top surgery when I was 24.” He pauses, “sorry, I’m word vomiting all over the place here and-”

“Hey,” you smile warmly, taking his hands, there’s a slight tremor to them. You rub your fingers over his skin reassuringly. “It’s good, great. Not oversharing, thank you for wanting to share with me.” 

He returned the expression a little shyly, “thanks, I just…” He screws up his eyes and sighs, “need to overshare one more thing.” 

“Go ahead.” You give his hands a soft squeeze.

“I’m, I haven’t had bottom surgery.” He swallows, keeping his eyes closed, “I don’t know if that’s a deal breaker for you, I understand if it is.” 

You lean forward and kiss his cheek. “Not a problem.” 

He opens his eyes quickly, looking at you like you painted every pink sunset cloud in the sky, before he presses a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. “Thank you.” He mutters, stroking your cheek and kissing you again. 

He slowly steps closer, pressing flush against you and snaking his right hand to rest on your hip, giving him all the leverage he needs to gently press you back against the counter top and slip his tongue into your mouth. 

It is a long time before the half unpacked groceries are remembered. 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes @lonelyisamyw-0love @queerponcho

@steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie

@silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

@alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @soft-girl-musings  @spxctorsslxt

@novarosewood

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[literatureloverx]

HIII>< Good day to you my dearest🤗🤗 Have you eaten? Drink? If not then please do! I know I said It might not be able to interact with you but like the weather is so bad in my country(there's like three storm rn), also some volcanic activities and some freaking illness going around rn😭😭 Whatever spiritual power there is hates my country cause what is this😭😭. Anywayyyy, I lost track again°>° well uh I just got suddenly curious on how, when, where fyodor and his darling got married. Like what was the process of it, the preparation, the people invited and such. I'm imagining it as somewhat very private event and very intimate (It's fyodor obv) Probably not a lot of people invited. It'll obviously be in a cathedral of sort with a priest and such. Ohh now I wonder how it'll work considering different cultures and religions (of darling). Like in my culture you can invite the whole village! Your distance cousin's friend might even be there😆 I'm kinda exaggerating but it does happen. Also the wedding clothes of darling and Fyodor! Ahhh I'm imagining Fyodor rn🥰🥰🥰

Also I'm really really sorry🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️ for overwhelming you with my ask! Well that's the end of it! Ig??? I'm going to do my projects now... Thank you for listening to my yapping and being so kind! 🫵❤️❤️❤️Truly you are amazing. I hope you have/gotten a good day🙏

Sincerely —🧛🏻‍♀️🫀Anon

Good day, my love, 🧛🏻‍♀️🫀-anon! ♥️ I’m doing well and hope the same for you. Please take care—it sounds truly concerning. 🥺

Regarding your request, I must admit I never thought about it either, lmao. By the way, you can invite the whole village in my culture too—though I wouldn’t do that! 😭 Close family and friends are all I need. ♥️ I wrote some headcanons, I hope you enjoy reading them!♥️

Also, I’ve come up with pictures for my 🍷💝-anon who needs visualizations.

Fyodor x ideal type fem!darling, marriage, wedding, visualisation, religious themes etc.

Fyodor & his darling’s wedding

The process would be very thorough, with high security measures and many people involved in the preparations.

As Fyodor’s little princess and soon-to-be bride, you won’t experience any discomfort because of it.

There will be plenty of people handling the arrangements for you.

All you need to do is relax, choose your wedding gown, select your jewelry from the exquisite vintage pieces Fyodor orders from around the world, and provide your preferences for the cake flavors and the flowers.

You’ll only need to engage in the preparations that interest you—your fiancé ensures that you’re always comfortable with everything that’s happening.

I don’t see either of you inviting many people due to security measures, and honestly, Fyodor has no one to invite.

So, it will likely be just the two of you, your close family (such as your parents and siblings), and the priest along with the staff who will be serving you.

Since you’re marrying Fyodor, it will naturally be very intimate and private. We can’t expect much glamour or razzamatazz.

The vows would be exchanged in the cathedral, and later you’d move to a medieval-themed setting for the wedding celebration.

There, you’d enjoy a meal and your wedding cake. Perhaps you might even dance to your favorite waltz—who knows?

Considering different cultures and his ideal type, your darling, being introverted and easygoing, would likely embrace Fyodor’s vision of their wedding.

This means there might be no village invitations, which could seem a bit sad, but it’s all part of Fyodor’s unique way of doing things.

~

Those are elegantly feminine. Fyodor would certainly admire the lace, as it’s traditionally seen as a symbol of femininity—something he would appreciate for its delicate beauty and timeless charm.

Those gowns are fine, but they show the maximum amount of flesh permissible for a cathedral setting, especially when marrying a traditional, possessive man like Fyodor.

You’d definitely need a veil if you choose to wear such a wedding gown.

Fyodor could wear just about anything, but here are some classic groom outfits. I can definitely see him opting for the white one, as most of his clothing is white and he associates himself with the color.

However, the darker outfit could also suit him, especially considering the official picture of him in a fancy dark-colored tuxedo.

Cathedral of Christ the Saviour in Moscow

[paintingwhiteceilings]

My request is completely self-indulgent but if you want to can you write for seventeen reaction to their S/O preferably she/her pronounce but u can change it you want having a twin brother?? Also I apologize if by any chance you see this request repeated multiple times in your inbox it’s just my internet connection being slow and weak asf 👎🏽

❃Seventeen and their S/O’s siblings❃

Ahhh so sorry this took as long as it did! I had a crazy few weeks and somehow my asks ended up under a pile of notifications. I mayyy have changed the ask to a general sibling prompt. I don't really know any twins so I don't think I could successfully write that kind of sibling dynamic repeatedly and get away with it. Instead, I included a variety of different sibling dynamics (with a couple of twin brothers); I hope you don't mind!

Scoups/Seungcheol:

❀ When you finally decided to introduce Coups to your older siblings, you hadn’t really been worried about whether they would like him or not. After all, he is very responsible and mature, being in charge of his twelve younger members; it wouldn’t be too difficult for your older siblings to trust him with their youngest.

❀ What you hadn’t been expecting, however, is for them to love him and treat him as if he was their own younger brother. Being the youngest in his own family and, let’s be fair, a pouty, whiny baby in Seventeen, he easily fell into the role of the youngest once he shook off his initial shyness and your siblings ate it up.

❀ Even worse, where you often struggle to get your siblings to do anything for you, all Coups has to do is pout or act cute, and they will sacrifice the world for him. They will even offer to pay for his meals and take him out to fun family activities regardless of whether you are able to make it. You’re half convinced Coups has become the favourite because he has no problem with spending an insane amount of money on your family, and he refuses to let them pay for anything.

❀ Yeah, needless to say, you’re feeling a bit salty about the whole situation. That was until Coups took you to meet his family, and you immediately became their favourite adopted child; it felt like the universe had righted itself once more.

Jeonghan:

❀ You regret introducing Jeonghan to your twin brother; for the past few hours, during your mandatory weekly family game night, he has been whispering in your ear that you should tap into your twin bond so that you can predict your brother's strategy. Jeonghan is absolutely adamant you two have a telepathic bond; he won't listen to you repeatedly telling him that you can't read your brother's mind just because you are twins.

❀ He will definitely try to figure out how to use the twin exploit to his advantage. Jeonghan will find a way to use this newly discovered information for chaos, either to prank someone else or to get his hands on new teasing material from the person closest to you.

❀ He will absolutely try to convince his members that he just happened to stumble on your male doppelgänger if you look anything alike, exclaiming in wonder that you two have even been born on the same day. Truly, what a coincidence.

❀ Overall, he would become such good friends with your twin brother; Jeonghan has such a charming and calming personality that it is difficult not to get along with him. Jeonghan also strikes me as the type of person who would put a lot of effort into getting along with their significant other's family, spending time with them whenever he can in order to maintain a good bond. 

Joshua:

❀ Joshua is the prime example of the naive only child unprepared for the stuff that siblings put each other through. Sure, Joshua technically got saddled up with twelve brothers after joining Seventeen. However, he didn’t have to deal with siblings and their shenanigans for most of his childhood, leaving the concept of fighting over the last piece of cake, not because you want it yourself but because you don't want your sibling to have it, a bit foreign to him.

❀ He is trying so hard to maintain the peace when you and your younger sister get into another heated argument when you discover she has borrowed a piece of clothing of yours without asking. Your parents love him, as when he is around, they can finally take a break and let him defuse the situation.

❀ Your little sister adores him, too; Joshua has a lot of arts and crafts days with her, where he teaches her how to make bracelets and knit scarves. They even made you a bracelet together; it almost made you forget about her remarks on how Joshua is her favourite older sibling.

❀ At this point, your little sister listens more to Joshua than you. Whenever you want her to do something, and she isn't listening to you, you have now resorted to simply calling him. For some reason, his asking her in a sweet voice to let you use the bathroom seems to work without fail.

Jun:

❀ It doesn't really matter whether you have older or younger siblings; Jun is THE person to bring home. On the one hand, when it comes to younger siblings, he is their favourite playmate and the person they turn to for advice. When it comes to older siblings, on the other hand, he will be cherished and loved as if he were their youngest brother.

❀ He truly shines when it comes to younger siblings, though. Jun is shameless when he plays with your younger siblings; he will crawl over the floor as if he is a snake or meow like a cat for hours on end. His acting skills are definitely paying off, and he will fully commit to whatever role your younger siblings need him to play. In all honesty, he enjoys playing with your siblings as much as they do; he is such a kid at heart.

❀ Jun is also THE person for advice. He never judges them and he is always willing to hear them out about whatever is troubling them. It doesn't leave the room either. He will never share whatever they confided in him with you unless they specifically have told him it is okay to do so.

❀ Honestly, your siblings will be threatening you to not break his heart or break up with him. They adore him and have already begun planning your wedding; you're stuck with him now.

Hoshi/Soonyoung:

❀ Initially, you were incredibly worried about introducing this delusion tiger man to your older sister because you were sure that she would ask you whether you wanted to date a madman. You forgot, however, that Hoshi can be incredibly shy when meeting people for the first time. He is so timid, glancing over at you for assurance every so often, that your sister has to pull you aside to ask whether this man truly is the same insane one you have described in your stories.

❀ He acts shyer and younger around your older sister, reverting to his younger brother role, and she dotes on him so much. He gets a lot calmer around your sister, and quite often, he tends to sit back to watch the two of you bicker back and forth, reminding him of his older sister.

❀ In your sister's eyes, he is the perfect boyfriend for you. He always texts her whenever he wants to buy you something, double-checking with her whether you will like the gift. Their private chat consists mostly of your sister sending him gift ideas based on what you mentioned or looked at during your last shopping trip.

❀ You have repeatedly told her to stop supporting his delusional tiger agenda. Whenever she sees anything tiger-related, she makes sure to buy it to gift to Hoshi the next time you meet up with her. She even goes to the extent of scolding you when you tell him to knock it off.

❀ After he gets more comfortable and his crazy side comes out to play, she will lean over to you to ask whether you have replaced him with a clone.

Wonwoo:

❀ Wonwoo can be incredibly introverted and shy, so when you proposed introducing him to your twin brother, he had a full-on mental breakdown, pestering Mingyu constantly for advice. He knew that you were very close to your twin brother, and it would mean the world to you for the both of them to get along nicely. He couldn't afford to mess this up.

❀ Initially, the meet-up was incredibly awkward, neither saying very much and, instead, sending you countless help-me-out glances. Fortunately, you knew exactly what topic to bring up to get the two socially inept souls talking: video games. You hadn't been particularly worried about the two not getting along, knowing that both of them were enthusiastic gamers.

❀ Nevertheless, a part of you slowly started regretting bringing up video games. The two had been discussing LoL and PUBG strategies for the past hour, and even though it was interesting, you would appreciate the occasional change in topic.

❀ Even worse, after the two of them exchanged user names, you now have to share your boyfriend with your twin. At this point, Wonwoo is spending more time with your brother duoing on Valorant than taking you on dates.

Woozi/Jihoon:

❀ All the training Seventeen has given him, preparing him for the day he would get a significant other with siblings, has been for nought. He still acts like he has never seen a child before upon entering your house. He is so worried that he will mess this up that you can see his hands shaking as he stares at your younger siblings.

❀ Fortunately, Woozi has a superpower; he is loaded and doesn't care to spend it on himself. The moment he offers to buy your younger siblings food with his black card is the moment he becomes their all-time favourite person. Armed with this valuable information, he spoils them rotten; your siblings only have to mention something or point at something in a display, and he will almost trip over himself to get it.

❀ You have tried getting him to stop, as you don’t want your siblings to continuously expect expensive gifts, but Woozi refuses to listen. Just as he does with Seventeen, he treats them like his own family, ensuring that they know he treasures them by burying them underneath a pile of gifts.

❀ One of your younger brothers is convinced he is Iron Man or Batman because someone that rich surely must be a superhero. You may have accidentally let it slip and told Woozi. He has never been more determined to empty out his bank account.

DK/Seokmin:

❀ DK is one of those people that is immediately loved by your family. He is such a sweet and happy person; how can anyone not fall in love with him? DK, in addition to that, is one of those types of people who want to be close to their partner's family and dedicate a lot of time to hanging out with them.

❀ He is perfect boyfriend material when it comes to dealing with your younger sibling, spending hours and hours playing hide and seek with them. In all honesty, DK is far more energetic than your younger siblings, and after spending an afternoon running around with him, they always immediately pass out.

❀ DK is so thoughtful when it comes to older siblings. He makes sure to put reminders for their birthdays on his phone, and he always seems to remember whatever they briefly mentioned wanting for a gift during a conversation five years ago. Does your older sister like theatre? Well, guess what. DK somehow managed to get his hands on tickets for that new popular musical. He only spent the past five hours calling every actor in his contact list to ask whether they could get him in. 

❀ DK would absolutely love to have a big in-law family with many older and younger siblings to surround him. The constant chatter and energy remind him of Seventeen, and, in his opinion, nothing beats that. 

Mingyu:

❀ Hear me out. Mingyu is husband material and the dream of every mother-in-law. That being said, your siblings at first couldn't stand him. It wasn't even anything Mingyu did, but from the moment he stepped into your house and met your mother, she completely fell in love with him.

❀ She keeps comparing Mingyu to them. They can't escape her mentioning Mingyu and his amazing qualities in every other conversation, resulting in a bit of resentment. “Mingyu would cook for me.” “I wouldn’t have to ask Mingyu to put his laundry in the basket.” “Mingyu would at least offer to help me clean the house.” 

❀ They would have been able to ignore her if the guy had any flaws, but no, the guy is tall, handsome, rich, talented and intelligent. They begrudgingly admit that maybe they could be more like him, and the world would be better off for it. They also have to begrudgingly admit that they too, are completely charmed by Mingyu.

❀ Poor Mingyu thinks that he has done something wrong and that they absolutely hate his guts. However, when Mingyu reveals he had a rough week due to an insane amount of random hate comments on his Instagram, they surprise him by declaring war. They have been fuming behind their laptops, insulting anyone who dares to hate on Mingyu. It made him tear up.

The8/Minghao:

❀ He was incredibly anxious when you wanted to introduce your little sister to him; sure, he is good with children, but he never had to deal with younger siblings. Even within Seventeen, he is one of the younger ones, and he already struggles to keep up with the chaos of his twelve members, lovingly (but harshly) scolding them whenever they tired him out. What if he accidentally loses it when your little sister bounces off the walls and insults her, forever damaging her self-esteem???

❀ Well, he had nothing to worry about. Sure, it takes him a second to realize that philosophical discussions with a barely ten-year-old won’t work, but the moment he discovers that your sister likes dressing up and drawing, he knows he will do fine.

❀ He organizes an entire fashion show for her and helps her assemble the most stylish outfits. Every morning, your little sister forces you to send Minghao pictures of her outfits, and he never fails to send a heartfelt compliment back.

❀ Moreover, Minghao spends many afternoons teaching her to throw paint at canvases. One of the paintings hangs proudly in his apartment for everyone to see, and another has replaced you as his phone background. You would be upset if it wasn’t so adorable.

Seungkwan:

❀ Seungkwan fits right in with your older sisters. Maybe it is because he has two older sisters himself, but somehow, it's as if he always has been a part of your family. You feel like he broke a record as he got them to love him in less than five minutes.

❀ The three of them have a private group chat where they share the latest tea and gossip. Neither party knows any of the people the other mentions. Still, whenever anything remotely exciting happens, it will be discussed at length in the chat.

❀ Recently, they have upgraded to calling, and Sarah-from-work's not-so-subtle move on their married boss may have interrupted your date. Then again, you were quite invested in what Sarah-from-work did this time as well, making Seungkwan put them on speaker.

❀ He is so comfortable with your sisters that they have no issue roasting each other. The moment they hurl an insult at you, he has got your back, ready with an arsenal of embarrassing moments they entrusted him with. It never fails to make you love him more.

Vernon:

❀ When you told your older brother that you had a boyfriend, he was ready to give them a good talking to, intimidating them the way an older brother should. However, the moment you introduced Vernon to him, his entire game plan went out of the window. Your brother quite quickly realized that Vernon had drunk enough respect-women-juice that he would never intentionally hurt you.

❀ Moreover, the two of them connected over some obscure film that you had never heard of. They spent most of the evening discussing what they thought of its plot and how the cinematography masterfully added to the atmosphere in the scenes. You could tell that your brother was impressed by how well-articulated and well-thought-out his points were.

❀ At the end of the evening, your brother has completely forgotten about the if-you-hurt-my-sister talk he was supposed to have. The two of them even make plans to go to an indie film that is releasing in art cinemas next week.

❀ That being said, I do not think Vernon would be the type of person who needs to be best friends with your siblings. Sure, he would want to be friendly with them and would not be opposed to the occasional hang-out, but he wouldn’t go out of his way to do stuff with them one-on-one.

Dino/Chan:

❀ It doesn’t really matter whether you have younger or older siblings. Dino is used to both. He grew up with a younger brother and is fully aware of how annoying they can be and how much responsibility you feel towards them as the older one. Dino also has had to deal with twelve annoying older brothers who don’t let him breathe.

❀ Bro is ready with the quick comebacks. Do your siblings want to tease him about something potentially embarrassing he did? Good luck. His members have completely desensitized him. Do your siblings betray him in a game of Risk? He won’t get upset; his members have tried sacrificing him in games even when it wasn’t needed.

❀ Your siblings can’t help but be impressed by how witty and quick he is. When he mentions it to his members, they have the audacity to tell him that this has been part of their plan all along. He definitely believes them when they argue that all the years of teasing and borderline physical harm were for the day he would meet his partner’s sibling, easily able to remain calm regardless of whatever teasing remark was thrown his way.

❀ “What if my partner would have been an only child?” They suddenly get really quiet. The wall has become interesting.

masterlist

[dreamerwitches]

Could you have a three course meal with only Madoka merch?

I've seen things like this before with Pokemon or Evangelion but I wanted to try it with Madoka, it would probably be a little more difficult since it’s a lot less popular than both but here we goooo!

So we’re looking for food and crockery for this! We want a starter, a main course, a dessert and a drink for our food. And for crockery we want a plate, perhaps a bowl (for starter or pudding), a knife, fork, spoon (perhaps for dessert) and a cup or glass.

I’m more confident with the crockery so let’s start there.

There are plenty of plates to choose from! So let’s go with the Broccoli line which includes every girl, Kyubey and Charlotte. Originally sold for ￥1200. I’ll choose Mami :)

I could only find one bowl in contrast but that’s good enough. From Movic, we have to choose a Kyubey for this one... sigh... at least we can pretend we’re drowning them XD This one’s a slightly pricier￥1260.

Now cutlery is a lot harder... I couldn’t find any knives or forks but we can compensate! It may be harder for certain dishes but we can use the Penguin Parade chopsticks! Originally selling for ￥840, we’ll choose Mami again, of course.

However another option is the cake forks from the "I'm not afraid of anything anymore" cake set selling for ￥5880 altogether. Perhaps we could use the forks for our main but it could also be for dessert depending on what we choose (though if we’re buying it all we might as well choose the cake that comes with it too XD )

Even though we have a cake forks, let’s still prepare well with a spoon! This is actually the reason I wanted to do this in the first place XD I saw a set of spoons on a regular ebay trawl! I believe, these are limited from the Madoka Magica cafe. Unfortunately the listings for these settle to around $150 since they’re limited items from a no longer running cafe...

But fear not! Perhaps instead we can choose the spoon from the Kyubey cake set! Now we get two cakes for dessert! This one is certainly cheaper than the first option at ￥3780.

Next let’s choose a glass and a cup! There’s certainly plenty to choose from in this category. Let’s go for the ACG glass set and choose the lovely Charlotte! This set also includes a Kyubey design, a generic fancy design and runes. You can buy three glasses for ￥2800, we can bring guests!

Let’s go a bit more modern for our cup! The glass was from 2014 now let’s jump to 2021! A lovely cup designed by our favourite Inu Curry for ￥1500!

Now we’ve got our crockery, let’s move onto food! I have a feeling this will be far more tricky...

We can’t really have a traditional starter but what about some bread hm? No, what if I put it in a can for you? Canned bread! We’ve got the same lineup as our original plates but sadly missing Kyoko as many early merch pieces do... sorry Kyoko... I know you would’ve appreciated the bread... This is only a low price of ￥700 hooray!

Now onto our starter! What luck, we have a choice! Would you like the curry for ￥683? 

Or the ramen for ￥893? I’m surprised they sold full meals, I don’t know about you

We already bought our dessert with our cutlery so we have another choice of two! Would you like the peach and pineapple Mami cake?

Or the vanilla and raspberry Kyubey cake?

Wasn’t that tasty? Now why don’t we top off our meal with some tea in our 10th anniversary cup! Let’s have the black tea from Mami for ￥525!

So let’s run the maths, how much did our lovely meal cost? A-Ah... ￥40982..? just shy of $300..? P-Perhaps it’s not such a good idea then... shouldn’t’ve bought those spoons...

[matthew-gray-gubler-lover]

Sex With Spencer Reid All Seasons (season 9)

If you are under the age of 18, please do not read this story. Thank you.

This will cover what I believe sex would be like with Spencer Reid from season 1 to 15. Warning contains adult situations, Sex. Dirty talk, Orgasms, Crying, Spoilers for all seasons and Spencer Reid being a sex God.

Also includes fingering and oral sex. (Female receiving only.)

These are a little bit longer than I anticipated them to be because I wanted to give a back story as to why the sex is the way that it is for each season. To give it in depth feeling of why Spencer was the way that he was in bed that season.  So I will be posting them by each season rather than all at once. I hope this gives you something to look forward to, and please leave comments,  I will be leaving links to the next season below.

You are a new agent at the BAU and Spencer Reid's girlfriend, the one who takes his virginity and has sex with him for all 15 seasons and beyond.

Spencer Reid knew the first time he saw you walk through the doors of the BAU that you were the one that he was going to love forever. The first time you smiled, he knew it was the only smile that he ever wanted to wake up to. The first time he touched your hand, he knew yours was the only hand he ever wanted to hold. The first time he kissed you, he knew your lips were the only ones that he ever wanted to have pressed against his own. and the first time he made love to you, he knew you were the only one he ever wanted to do this with, and he also knew he would never be the same you or his life now, his love and his only desire.

season 9

In season nine you and Spencer are officially getting married. Spencer chose Valentine's Day as it is the day of love.

Something that you find very romantic. Even though you know that the day is more than just about roses and heart-shaped boxes of candy, you both know that it is a true symbol of love Valentine's Day Has always been a very romantic day for the two of you.

You almost thought that you weren't going to make it to your own wedding. Since Spencer couldn't keep his hands off of you, he wanted to enjoy making love to his fiancée one last time before you were his wife. 

After four mind-blowing orgasms from oral and intercourse, Spencer was finally satisfied with the Amount of loving that he had given you.

When you pulled up to Rossi's, you saw all of the beautiful twinkly lights in the backyard, the archway for the two of you to get married under, rose petals leading the way to the altar/archway.

And there was Penelope, all dressed up in her bridesmaid's dress, light pink with rose petals embroidered on it, and her hot pink heels went wonderfully with it.

JJ and Blake's dresses we're a little bit longer than Penelope's. Penelope's was in true Penelope Garcia fashion, and you wouldn't have her any other way.

While the ladies helped you get ready doing your hair, putting on your makeup, zipping your beautiful white gown up, a ball gown with pink roses embroidered on the bottom, Rossi of course covered the charge of the dress. He told you and Spencer that he thinks of you as his daughter and Spencer as his son, and since he didn't have a daughter to spoil, he wanted to spoil you on your wedding day.

You could see that Spencer was starting to get a little teary eyed as he watched you walk down the aisle on Rossi's arm.

The wedding was beautiful. You had a delicious meal afterwards, catered by Rossi's favorite Italian restaurant.

Then it was time for cake. The four-tiered chocolate cake with chocolate fudge frosting and the cute little bride and groom on top. Spencer and you cut the first slice and he sweetly placed a piece of cake into your mouth before kissing you. It was the most romantic thing that the team had ever seen and would truly never forget this amazing moment. Neither would you or Spencer.

After a day of dancing, partying and eating.(you know how the team of the BAU does a party) Spencer took you home for your wedding night. Even though he has made love to you millions of times by now, and again those four orgasms he gave to you this morning.  there was something different about seeing you in your wedding gown and slowly unzipping it.

it was as though he wanted to make the moment last forever.

It was like Spencer was in a trance. You looked so beautiful, even though you always did to him again, there was just something more special and magical about tonight. He couldn't wait to Make Love to his wife for the first time.

Before he pushed inside of you, he looked at you with so much love in his eyes and was rubbing his hands up and down your thighs and hips. "I love you so much my beautiful bride", he told you before kissing you and pushing inside.

You both let out a sweet moan, and he couldn't keep his lips off of you. "I love you so much. I'm so glad that you're my wife" he told you, each word being punctuated by a kiss.

this time lifting your hips slightly so that he could slide in even deeper, something that he had never done before. Maybe he was saving it for your wedding night.

The love making that night was sweet and slow. He didn't want it to end and neither did you. The sounds of kisses filled the room and you couldn't have been happier. 

That night, Spencer gave you seven orgasms. You'd never thought that that would happen in your wildest dreams when you were younger, but after you met Spencer, you knew that he was a special man and would always be able to take care of you.

When morning came, Spencer made love to you once more, Again his hands ran up and down your legs and thighs. This time he even wrapped your legs around his waist and kissed your neck saying "I love you so much baby"," it's you and me forever". "Only you You're the only one I ever want".

This is how the two of you spent your honeymoon in your shared apartment, making love for a whole week, something that you both wished would never end. Sadly though the week had ended, you had to go back to work. 

That didn't mean though, the Spencer couldn't still take care of his loving wife in hotel rooms. And he did.

If you would like season 10 please leave comments, thank you 💗

[toptierteaser]

Pushing a Fatty's Limits

This is wild, fat boy. You’ve really been letting me push your limits, haven’t you? You’ve really been allowing me to spoil you, to plump you up, to fatten you until you’re busting at the seams.

                It’s been a while now, since you agreed to let me feed you for my own entertainment. For my own satisfaction. And for yours. You can’t lie about that, of course. You know how much you like my cooking. You know how much you like my food. The way I spoil you, fatty. The way I tease you, call you names, as I coax one sugary treat after another between those plump, insatiable lips, as I stuff your eager face with savory, fattening snacks and meals. As I stuff you until you’re barely able to move.

Call it a mutual symbiosis. You get to eat to your heart’s content and I get to watch you grow. I get to watch you fatten. I get to watch you wriggle and squirm as you try to adjust your blimping ass in your seat, as your thickened thighs rub, the fat on your legs battling for space, your stomach threatening the button that barricades the juicy, grabbable band of fat that puffs out, fatter and fatter at your midsection. You know how much I enjoy feeding you, fat boy. And you know, from the smile on my face as you huff and puff after a record stuffing—as you adjust yourself, trying to get used to the new fat rolls that have accumulated beneath your arms, the love handles that press up against your elbows every time you sit—how much I enjoy watching you struggle!

It's so easy. Feeding you. Teasing you. You’re always so hungry, so willing to gobble down whatever snack I dangle in your handsome face! And you get so embarrassed, fatty, by the way I tease you. How I like to grab the fat between your belly button and your waistband, how I like to squeeze it softly, how I like to give it a good jiggle, a solid shake. How enjoy smacking the sides of your doughy gut, giving it a slap after you binge, leaning in behind you, a hand on either side of your tubby frame and shaking your tank while you gasp and squeal!

It’s so fun too, watching the aftermath. Watching you waddle off the chair in shame. Hearing it creak louder with every seat, groaning in relief with every departure. Watching your ass as it widens and expands like thick, blubbering buns, as it fills out your shorts, as it threatens to rip them right up the inseam! Watching your cake jiggle back and forth, your jiggling cheeks rubbing as your fatty bounces behind you. Watching you blush as you notice your shirt riding up, as you yank on it, tugging it over your exposed love handles. Your tits wobbling with every step. Even your handsome face, chubbing up after every feeding, getting more embarrassed as you notice the soft double chin beginning to form beneath your once-defined jawline.

But of course, all that is nothing compared to the denial you are in. it’s evident that you have yet to except what I have done to you, fat boy. I know this, because I see you, trying to fit into the same spaces. Caught off guard as you struggle to buckle your seatbelt in the car, as you watch with alarm as your stomach quivers with every turn of the wheel, with every jostle of the vehicle. The way you huff and puff behind me when I walk too fast in public. How you still try to fit into the same clothes, despite your chub being well exposed by the result of the stuffings.

It's cute, watching you wiggle around in denial. Watching you attempt to retain some semblance of dignity, some piece of your former, fitter self. Of course, it’s useless for you, fatty. There’s no going back. And for me, it’s pure entertainment. Because at the end of the day, chubby, I know you’ll never say no to my treats and my snacks. I know you’re too lardy and pathetic to ward off my prodding, my pokes. I know you can’t rebut my teasing, as you lard out of your clothing and spill off the sides of your chair… So there are only two things left to do now for you fat boy…eat…and grow…

[theplottdump]

ＳＩＤＥ ＰＬＯＴＴ - ＰＵＲＥ ＨＥＤＯＮＩＳＭ - PART 2 🔞 - 𝙶𝚎𝚗 𝟼: 𝚅𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚍 -

heat level: 🌶🌶🌶🌶🌶 (It's Smut with a Plot) content warnings: simdick, choking, graphic depictions of gay sex, I'm literally warning you now!!

Forward: This scene is something that I wanted to write anyway for the main plott eventually, and the PG-13 parts will end up popping up again in the main storyline - but for Valentines smut sake I thought it would be fun to jump ahead and take way farther than reasonably necessary. Godspeed. Don't say I didn't warn you.

PART ONE: ( The One with the Plott, Rating PG ) PART TWO: ( The One with the Smut, Rating R )

~ continued from part 1 ~

Leanne nodded a goodnight to her boys and left the room as wordlessly as she entered it. They might have taken the time to actually notice her departure if their eyes weren't fiercely locked on one another, both mentally preparing for the battle to come.

"Valerian, you're overreacting again." "Kindly explain how." "You're sure you want to do this right now?" "I'm not afraid of you darling."

Ask any couple about the secret to a long happy relationship and they'll likely explain the importance of communication and compromise. Sure, the two had their fair share of arguments and disagreements over the years, especially when it came to raising their baby girl-

-but they communicated and compromised just as much as any successful normal domestic relationship.

The only caveat: their communication and compromise skills often presented themselves in more… explosive manner.

And it was at this point as Chad studied Val's practiced stony expression that an idea started to take shape.

Tonight, he wasn't going to compromise. Oh no, Tonight he was going to 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙝𝙞𝙢.

Chad rested his forehead against Val's temple, looking up at him like a fox playing with it's next meal.

"We don't have to make it into a big deal, just some friends and family on the beach." "I don't have friends."

"You'd get to dress up, Sexy lil suit, Sunny can be our flower girl... I'd only have a few demands."

"Demands?" Val studied him, attempting to predict his partner's next move. It was like a mental game of chess, but if all the pieces spelled out 'this man is going to eat you.'

“I want a cake animation that doesn't work, flowers we forget to use-“ “Okay, fine.” “I want to try that mod that lets HANSEL walk down the aisle with a bouquet” “Maybe.” "And I want Poppy there." "No." "I want 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 to walk me down the aisle." "I said no."

Chad snaked his arms around Valerian's waist, pulling him to his hips, effectively closing any distance between them that might have led Val to believe he was getting out of this easily.

"I believe is what you actually meant to say is 'Yes Chad. Whatever you want my darling.'"

"You're delusional if you think I'm going to let that woman anywhere near my happiness. She would just poison it like she poisons everything good in her life." "You're just mad because she read you like a book. I do the same thing Val." "Yes, but I actually like you."

"Mmm, yes, I can tell." Chad slowly starting to grind his hips against Val's thigh, slipping two fingers into the waistband of his joggers and giving them a quick 𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘱.

Val's eyes darkened again as they fought, rain against fire- Chad smile grew as he observed his favorite little cracks starting to form on Val's evil mask of concentration.

Yes, the Agent decided, this was going to be quite fun for him indeed.

"You're being ridiculous-" "Then tell me to stop." Any lightness in Chad's tone had been completely lost, leaving only a deep predatory growl in its place.

Val raised a hand to protest, his partner snatching it from the air without breaking eye contact, holding him close. Chad continued on in his low growl, "But know this 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳. If you concede, 𝗜 𝘄𝗶𝗻."

"Those rules hardly seem fair."

Val's demeanor had retained it's cool quality so far, but the cracks in his facade were growing deeper and more fractured. Through the gaps between the pieces, Chad could see his beautifully soft overgrown edgelord, and feel the prize for all his coercing stiffen against his leg.

He slowly brought Val's captured wrist to his lips, keeping a dedicated eye on the man's face. Chad wanted to watch his favorite part of their little dance. Mouth met it's target as tongue tasted heartbeat- villainous mask falling to the ground, leaving Val vulnerable once more.

His heart, which Val professed died long ago, was beating deliciously faster than the man wanted to let on. Persona broken, Chad earned an involuntary shiver from his beautiful, overzealous, and positivity fucked supervillain.

"Oh my love, you know I never play fair."

( concluded on Pillowfort - explicit content ahead 🔞 )

[heavenlycloud]

it’s just a kkaennip: yunjin x 6th member! reader

request: yunjin claims she doesn't get jealous during a vlive...but her actions prove otherwise

warnings: swearing, light angst

eunchae raised her hand and both you and yunjin turned to face her as she explained, "let's say that your boyfriend is eating with you and your friend that's the same gender as you- wait is that right?" she paused and thought before answering her own question, "yeah it's you, your friend, and your boyfriend. you are eating together and your friend is having trouble getting only one piece of marinated perilla leaf, she can't get just one. so your boyfriend saw it, and the question is: is it okay for your boyfriend to help your friend or not?"

yunjin asked easily, "isn't it just a vegetable?" eunchae responded, "it's a perilla leaf, but you're right there and he helps your friend out. is that okay?" you then leaned over and asked genuinely, "is this supposed to be like a trick question or something?" eunchae shook her head and laughed, "no it's a real question!" you shrugged and answered, "it's not that deep." beside you, yunjin chimed in, "i don't care!"

yunjin asked easily, "isn't it just a vegetable?" eunchae responded, "it's a perilla leaf, but you're right there and he helps your friend out. is that okay?" you then leaned over and asked genuinely, "is this supposed to be like a trick question or something?" eunchae shook her head and laughed, "no it's a real question!" you shrugged and answered, "it's not that deep." beside you, yunjin chimed in, "i don't care!"

eunchae shook her head and put her hand up as she started laughing, "you two are americans!" yunjin looked at you then back at eunchae and said, "i don't think we'd put that much meaning into an action like that." you nodded in agreement and eunchae insisted it was because the two of you were foreigners.

you sat silently for a second, thinking genuinely about the debate that took the country by storm. yunjin pointed to you then laughed, "are you actually thinking about this?!" you smacked her arm lightly as your face flushed with embarrassment. quickly you defended yourself against your two members, "no because-" you switched to english subconsciously, "if my partner didn't help her i'd be more mad because she's interrupting my meal! i'm trying to eat my fricking food bro!" both eunchae and yunjin leaned towards you as they fell over laughing at you.

eunchae then asked, "so final thoughts: you two wouldn't care?" yunjin shook her head, "it's just a 깻잎!" eunchae looked at you for an answer and you shrugged, "i just wanna eat my meal." yunjin paused then added, "besides i don't get jealous like that." the comment went in one ear and out the other for both you and eunchae, but then the two of you realized what she said and stared at her with raised brows.

the brunette asked in slight surprise, "what are those looks for?" you and eunchae leaned back in your chairs and made eye contact, nodding in agreement before sitting back in your chairs and shrugging the question off. yunjin asked again and you answered nonchalantly, "if you know you know."

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

*time skip and yunjin is blonde now*

"y/n, i missed you today." chaewon told you as you walked into the practice room in the afternoon. that morning you'd had a photoshoot by yourself as part of being an ambassador of a fashion company. you held up a bag with two small boxes in it, they were small cakes you'd been given as gifts from the fashion company before you left. instead of saving them for yourself you decided to share with your members.

the second the girls realized what you had they were rushing over to get a look. you gave each of your members a pair of chopsticks because that's all you had in the bag with you. each of them stood around the counter, taking small pieces of cake and talking over each other about how good it was. chaewon finished all she wanted and walked closer to your opened your arms. eunchae, yunjin, and kazuha bombarded you with questions about your day while sakura and yunjin listened.

chaewon turned herself around in your arms so you were back hugging her closely. the height difference between the two of you because of your boots with a slight platform, gave you room to rest your chin on her head. you noticed one of the small boxes had a small amount of cake left and pulled it closer to you for a piece before it was all gone. after you took a bite an realized chaewon was staring at the last piece, you held it up to her and she nodded. she opened her mouth and you fed her the last bite to which she hummed happily and leaned her head back against your shoulder as a thank you.

for a moment you didn't realize until you looked over your shoulder that yunjin had moved and was now glaring at you from the floor. the latter didn't say a word which prompted you to laugh awkwardly then ask, "you good?" she only stared at you blank faced, rolled her eyes in annoyance, then looked back down at her phone.

sakura noticed the interaction but the other girls were completely engrossed in their own conversation, and didn't notice. the eldest found a place on the floor next to yunjin and elbowed her gently to get her attention. yunjin put her phone down and gave her complete and undivided attention to sakura with a smile on her face. as if that wasn't enough, she placed a hand on the other member's thigh, gently squeezing it and laughing when sakura flushed pink. you didn't miss the way she slowly stared back up at you with a pleased smirk on her face, as if to challenge you. however, you turned completely away and held your tongue for the sake of everyone else in the room.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

three days passed and yunjin was still purposely avoiding physical contact with only you. from the minute she woke up she was clinging to sakura instead of her usual which was you. whenever you happened to look her way, yunjin had a hand on the older woman's thigh, holding her hand, or an arm around her waist. meanwhile whenever you so much as stepped within a three foot radius of her, she moved away without a word.

it was nearing midnight when your bedroom door creaked open and you heard someone tiptoe into your room. you sat up in your bed and asked with a fleck of hope in your voice, "jen?" the reply made your heart sink a little bit, "nope, just me." the corner of your bed dipped and chaewon crawled into your bed beside you. she pulled your arm over her shoulder and settled her head on your chest without much thought. her hand rested on yours and she sighed but before you could ask she murmured, "i don't wanna talk about it." all you did was hum in understanding and wrap your arms tighter around her, knowing already why she ended up in your room tonight.

in the morning you woke up with chaewon still in your arms, her legs tangled with yours. it was a familiar feeling but with the wrong person. this morning you didn't wake up with that stupid grin you do for one person only. chaewon rolled over you and stretched her arms and legs, teasingly you pushed her off of you and laughed when she just rolled back on top of you.

eventually the two of you got up and headed to the kitchen for breakfast. when chaewon opened your door she nearly walked into yunjin who was walking down presumably to your room. before either of you could ask, she turned back around and went back to her own room, slamming the door behind her.

in the kitchen sakura pointed with her head as she ate her breakfast, "yeah, you need to deal with that." you rubbed your eye sleepily and hummed, "hmm?" sakura took a sip from her mug then explained, "i mean- don't get me wrong, i'm loving the attention i'm getting. but i don't want to be caught between the two of you so..." chaewon chimed in, "yeah what's with that?" you shrugged and chaewon asked, "how don't you know why she's mad at you?" getting slightly defensive you huffed, "i dunno- i just dont! i literally didn't do anything. she's been avoiding me like the plague all week!"

sakura looked between you and chaewon then let out an amused laugh, "awe my yunjinnie is jealous." for a minute the words didn't register, but when they did you asked, "of what? why? what are you talking about?" sakura shrugged to you, "you're a big girl. you can go ask her yourself." you contemplated on it for a minute then chaewon chimed in, "you have an hour to figure it out before i do it for you." only then did you literally run down the hallway, sliding across the floor on your socks.

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹

you knocked on the door in front of you and there was a soft, "come in" on the other side. when you entered it was evident that she wasn't expecting you based on the way her smile faded and her shoulders drooped. she asked bitterly in english, "what do you want?" you closed the door behind you and said, "that. i want to know why you're doing that ignoring me thing. i didn't do anything and you're suddenly ignoring me."

yunjin looked at you incredulously and hissed, "'didn't do anything?' yeah sure y/n." you narrowed your eyes and replied, "then enlighten me or drop it." she stood up and walked towards you as she answered, "literally you sat there all up under chaewon all week- touching her and holding her hands and kissing her cheeks and shit. then i see her walking out of your room this morning all giggly. and you're telling me you did nothing?"

for a moment you didn't even make a connection between what sakura mentioned and what yunjin was insinuating. you backed up a step just to end up cornered to a wall with yunjin standing over you. she waited for you to reply and when you didn't she turned around muttering under her breath, "yeah that's what i thought..."

you reached your arm forward and snatched the back of her t shirt, "you have the wrong idea. i always touch all of our members. i'm always giving eunchae hugs. i'm always back hugging chaewon. i'm always putting my arms around zuha's shoulders. i always link my arm with kkura. but i'm always clinging to you the most."

yunjin pulled her hand back and refused, "not this week!" you exclaimed in frustration, "because you kept avoiding me to run off to sakura! if anything i should be mad because you were trying to piss me off like a little ass kid!" by now the two of you were yelling and certainly woke up the other two members that were sleeping. the door handle clicked and opened, letting chaewon enter with a more than annoyed look on her face.

chaewon pushed yunjin away from you lightly then said, "when i said handle this i didn't mean wake up the entire building." yunjin looked between you two and scoffed, "and look at you coming to y/n's rescue. i know you sent her here to begin with." chaewon snapped back, "i wouldn't have had to if you let her in last week. now will you both just apologi-" yunjin cut her off with a low mumble, "y/n was too busy letting you in her bed anyways..." you turned your attention back to yunjin and pointed, "that's a low blow and you know it."

your leader froze between the two of you, staring at yunjin in disbelief from her remark. it was known that chaewon struggled personally with the events that followed your debut era closely. it took a toll on her mentally and emotionally, and newfound insecurities on if she was cut out for her leader position soon followed. she was plagued by running thoughts until all hours of the night, ending in tears or all nighters. she found solace in your presence and in your listening and giving advice when she needed it the most. so to have it thrown back in her face so abrubtly, especially someone who knew the extent of her situation...it hurt.

chaewon took a deep breath and blinked back the few tears that welled up in her eyes. she smiled politely, but pain was evident behind the expression as she softly said, "you two can figure this out. quietly." she exited the bedroom and closed the door behind her, the front door opening and closing shortly after.

you threw your hands in the air and said, "you're unbelievable- like what the hell was that? why would you say that to her?" it was as if everything was just catching up to yunjin now as she paced her room with one of her nail between her teeth. you prompted once more, this time with more urgency in your voice, "well?"

the blonde girl blurted out, "i don't know okay? i saw you and her all week and it made me scared or angry or- i don't know?" you pressed on, "why are you mad at me and her being close? how was this week any different from these past few months? years?" yunjin chewed on her lip as she debated on telling you the truth. you sat on the edge of her bed and awaited an answer. finally yunjin quietly admitted, "i didn't care about you like that back then..."

you sat up straighter and asked curiously, "i'm sorry what?" yunjin started pacing her room once again and rambled, "i don't know why or how or when anything changed but all i know is i want to be the one you're always holding on to. i wanna be the one you're up late laughing with and talking about everything and nothing with." as much as you wanted to be happy that she basically admitted to being in love with you, there was still something that went untouched. you told her, "that still doesn't explain why you said that to chaewon."

yunjin stopped walking in front of you and sat down beside you on her bed, "because i was scared of losing you. i've never been able to keep someone. they always end up leaving me for someone or something else and-" her voice cracked and a tear fell into her lap as she continued, "goddamn it- i just want someone who will stay."

this time you stood up and moved so you were in front of her, standing between her thighs. you brushed the tears from her cheeks with your thumbs and said, "i'll stay. there's not anyone else that i want to be with the way i am with you...whatever that looks like now and in the future. it's just you. okay?" she nodded and sniffed while you added, "besides we signed a seven year contract so we're kinda stuck with each other for a while." there was a flick on your forehead by her freshly manicured nails and you whined, "ow! why'd you do it with the rhinestone finger?" yunjin laughed and pulled you closer to her, resting her face against your stomach. you carded your hands through her blonde hair and said, "and you tried to say you're not the jealous type." yunjin looked back up at you and asked, "do you want to get flicked again?" she pulled you lightly in attempt to pull you onto her bed, but you stopped her.

before she could fully rope you in, you pushed her away lightly, "no no no. first-" she frowned at the loss of contact as you seriously stated, "you need to fix things with chaewon first then we can get to us." yunjin stood up and headed for her door and looked back at you to which you mocked her voice, "iTS jUsT a kKaEnNiP." she flicked you off but you only doubled over in laughter as she rolled her eyes and murmured slightly unamused, "you suck."

[sucker-for-yanderes]

Secret Admirer Pt. 2

Yan!Izuku x Reader

Contains: Stalking, hidden cameras in reader's home, unhealthy obsession and other yandere behavior, masturbation.

The green haired boy let out a light, disturbing chuckle as he now had full access to a certain someone's house. Due to all the secret cameras he had hidden to the spare keys he made himself. He could easily slip in and out whenever he pleased. He could take her whenever he pleased. After all, with his super human quirk, it'd be a piece of cake. This girl was quirkless after all so it's not like she could defend herself even against a person who had a lowly type quirk. But where was the fun in taking her so soon? No, Izuku liked playing the waiting game. There was something about the stalking and watching from afar that he loved. He liked the thrill of the waiting game. To be able to observe her so closely yet not getting caught or even suspected once! Man, he was a natural at this. He sighed lovingly as he watched her get ready for work. She put on the same uniform that they had met in. 

Izuku first laid eyes on her at a coffee shop he visited frequently. She was the new employee they had hired. This was her first job. How did he know? The questions she asked and the way she operated and not to mention her inadequate social skills. Anyone could tell she was a newbie. In fact, she had spilled coffee on his pants. That was the first time they'd actually conversed besides her taking his order. She frantically apologized and began wiping the hot liquid off of his pants causing the two of them to blush. She apologized again and offered to give him some spare clean pants they had laying neatly folded in the back room. He turned down the offer as he saw there was no use crying over spilled coffee. It was from that interaction that the two of them began talking more and more everyday. And it was from there that an obsession grew. It started off small, Izuku not even noticing it. But he subconsciously began doing things out of the ordinary such as spilling things on "accident" or ordering a large meal and then offering (Name) to sit down and eat it with him. He would even watch her up at the register, cleaning, and making drinks. His eyes observed her well sculpted face, down to her firm breasts, to her curvy build. He even found her legs to be appealing for some odd reason and her small hands as well. He took notice to the little details about her and it only made him admire her more. He adored seeing her in that uniform. The light tan jeans that fit her legs so comfortably. Her black, short sleeved shirt fit her so snug. A short, brown apron with the coffee shop brand logo on it hugged her waist perfectly. Not to mention the uniform accented her breasts, thighs, and ass all in one sitting. Izuku had never seen anyone look so cute and even sexy in a coffee shop uniform before. Never. But that wasn't the only thing he cared about. No. He cared about so much more. Her voice, her kindness to others, her enthusiasm, determination, patience, and the way she could light up the room when she walked in. Izuku was so intrigued by this girl. You could find a girl with a good body anywhere, but to have a good personality combined with that was rare. Izuku was so intrigued by this girl that it didn't take him long to find out where she lived. She even lived close by his apartment. How convenient~

Now, in present day, it was after work that he managed to slip into her house without being detected. Izuku thanked the gods who gave him such stealth. Whatever room she was in, he was watching from another. His heart raced. Oh, how he loved the thrill. The risk of getting caught. It was a wild high. But the thing he truly loved was being close to his crush. The one he admired most. The one who occupied his heart. Izuku couldn't help but bend down to the ground and bring his hands to his now red face. He was internally fanboying over that girl again. He couldn't wait for the day he would be able to call her his. The day she would moan his name over and over again. The day she would say " I do." It was all so exciting to Izuku. But he maintained his composure for now. There was a time and place for his fanboying and fantasizing. 

Izuku was now standing in the bathroom. The hot steam from the shower filled the room as mist formed on the mirror. Izuku began blushing madly as he was standing not even four feet away from the girl of his dreams! It was easy for him to slip in undetected as she liked to listen to her casual tunes whilst in the shower. Izuku could only imagine what lay on the other side of the curtains. They were in the same room. One clothed and one naked. Only to be separated by a curtain. (Name) was focused on cleaning herself until she shivered due to a sudden chill. Izuku had left the door slightly cracked. However, she found it not to be a big deal as she was getting out soon anyways and didn't want to get out of the shower, close the door, then get back in. Absolutely clueless. Focused on her own tasks at hand because that's the kind of person she is. Focused on herself in order to keep improving and moving forward. Yes, that's right. Keep on doing what you're doing. Minding your own business as the boy so close to you watches. Nothing kept secret. 

(Name) twisted the knob in her shower causing the water to turn off. Izuku swiftly stepped out of the room into somewhere he wouldn't be detected. She opens the curtains and dries herself off, turning the bathroom fan on to dry off the moist room. The girl then continued with her nightly routine, all while Izuku watched. However, he was respectful to turn away when she was completely nude as he wanted to save that for himself one day. The day he would see her fully naked would be the day he would take her, not just watch her. And he couldn't exactly take her right now, it would screw things up. Izuku concludes the night while watching his precious girl sleep from the window. The gods seemingly blessed him again providing a tree with the perfect, supportive branch to watch her from. Izuku watched her sleep for hours and hours before he had to go home. However, that's okay. The micro cameras he set up in her room would allow him to watch her in the comfort of his home while she was comfortable in hers. And there, he would continue his fun. 

Midoriya was so smart to have done that. He pat himself on the back for it. Yes, he absolutely loved watching you up close and personal, but he couldn't all the time. He looked at the tapes often. Her sleeping in bed was enough to turn him on. As usual, he pleased himself to her. Fantasizing. What her naked body would look like pressed up against his. What her mouth would look like around his long, thick meat. What his cum all over her face would look like. She would look so adorable. This was the only thing that kept Izuku restrained. It gave him a sense of self control. But make no mistake, he was definitely planning on how to make (Name) his forever. He wanted (Name). He coveted her so bad. Izuku wanted to own her. Own everything about her. Her body, her psyche, her soul, her very entire essence, and most importantly, her heart. She would be his entirely.

[satureja13]

First Witch: "When shall we three meet again? In thunder, lightning, or in rain?" Second witch: "When the hurlyburly’s done, When the battle’s lost and won." Third Witch: "That will be ere the set of sun." (Lines above are the opening of Shakespeare's MacBeth)

Noxee arrived at Hummelshain Castle ere the sun fully rose up over the ocean. She left Moonwood Mill before Greg woke up or otherwise he wouldn't have let her go. They just had a few hours together after he returned from training the Boys beyond the Veil. Since Noxee is co owner of Strawberry Cake Fashion, she picked some clothes from the new pack and this outfit was one of the very few pieces she liked. (There are so many talened creators out there, why do we get such ugly clothes? for a romance pack at that. And if there's something nice, the colors are so ugly.)

The girls are still busy. Noxee decided to wait in the kitchen and make some Churros for their meeting. She will need all the good vibes she can get ö.Ö' Noxee knows how much Ms Coombes hates Jack...

Churros are the only meal Noxee can cook and she hopes they will meet the taste of the girls. Noxee loves her kitchen at the Bunker, but this one is just amazing. It makes her almost wish she could really cook ^^'

The girls are done with their seance. First Witch Ms Coombes: "Ach, these Boys!" Oh oh, Ms Coombes doesn't seem to be in a good mood... I wonder what she saw in her crystal ball ö.ö And poor Noxee has to try to convince her and the others that Jack and Kiyoshi can be mates, just mates...

At least Francine greeted her cordially. Since Francine is Jeb's grandmother and Saiwa is Noxee's 'Baby', they are quasi family :3 (They are utterly convinced that Sai and Jeb will find their way back together again - and if they are, who am I to question it ^^') Dtui is Kiyoshi's mentor. And she's also Ms Coombes fated mate. They even have the same hairstyle today... So she will be on Ms Coombes side as it seems ö.ö

Ms Coombes looked at the Churros: "As sparkly and glittering as the cook who made them." Is this meant as a cut-up or intended to be funny - or as a compliment? Noxee, always on the bright side of life, goes for a diplomatic: "Thank you, I'm glad you like them."

Ms Coombes: "I know you want the Boys to be happy. But we have to think of the future of the Resistance. We never had a diety within our rows. And Kiyoshi hasn't even reached his full potential yet. All the good he can do for all of us. We can't let Callahan drag him down. He will keep his distance to Kiyoshi." Noxee: "Kiyoshi worked himself sick at the Temple and as a mole for the Resistance. He even had to leave the Temple. He already did a lot of good for all of us - until he broke." Ms Coombes: "It was Callahan's fault Kiyoshi had to leave the Temple! He asked to much of Kiyoshi, wanted him all for himself with his groundless jealousy and paranoia. He almost killed Kiyoshi! And himself! Noxee, you've seen yourself how broken Jack was. These two are not meant for each other. Fate must have made a terrible mistake." Spoken this, thunder roared over the castle. Dtui: "Rita, you know that's not true. Jack is Kiyoshi's fated mate and Kiyoshi failed him because he believed he had to make it up - for all the wrongs his family did." Ms Coombes: "We never asked anything of Kiyoshi, all he did for the Resistance was of his own free will." Noxee: "I think we all agreed to not overly mess with their lives. They are all grown up and they should be allowed to make their own decisions. It's not on us to tell them with whom they should hang out and with whom not. They don't have to listen to us anyway." Ms Coombes proofed Noxee wrong and showed her the contract: "Oh, they have to when it interferes with the guidelines of the Resistance. They all agreed to this, see? Kiyoshi is an important member of the Resistance and Callahan puts his powers in jeopardy."

Francine: "Let's all calm down, hm? Kiyoshi did so much better with Jack around. And the sad truth is that Kiyoshi wasn't of any help for us for months. He might never fully return to this realm and only drift further away." Dtui: "And Kojin likes Jack." Well, that's a knockout argument. Kojin is Dtui and Kiyoshi's diety, the one who saved their lives at their execution. Without Kojin, there would be no Kiyoshi - and no Dtui either. They owe him. Dtui: "And I know of a certain couple *she looked at Ms Coombes* who also dated against the will of the Resistance back in their days. They stated, a roughneck like you, Rita, would drag me, the Resistance's Golden Child, down. And look how strong and powerful we became together, hm?" Ms Coombes stopped Dtui before she spills more of their tea: "Ach, fine! Let them be mates, just mates or whatever!" Phew - Ms Coombes drives a hard bargain. But in the end, she agreed that Kiyoshi and Jack can be mates, just mates (or whatever). Francine chuckled. Just like herself, Rita and Dtui are also loyal receivers of the spicy monthly subscription boxes of Ye Olde Magick Shoppe.

After these exhausting negotiations, and to reward herself, Noxee so needed to go shopping. She went to Moda Capoliveri. Her favourite shop at Tartosa. Here she gets inspired by the latest fashion trends for Sai and her online store Strawberry Cake Fashion. And she also hopes to find some hot dessous - to reward Greg.

Noxee stays at the castle over night and just returned from the bathroom, where she took a long, hot shower and tried her new, hot outfit on. Back in her room, she found Greg waiting for her! Noxee: "Greg! What are you doing here?"

Greg: "Gods, you look gorgeous!"

Greg: "I missed you. Didn't want another night without you." And then he kissed her.

Greg: "This outfit is so, so hot. Do you think the gems will stay in place when we..." Noxee: "There is only one way to find out."

They did stay in place.

Greg seems to sense that Noxee has something on her mind. But she had promised Jack not to tell Greg about his condition after the bolt hit him in his chest. Greg: "I won't push you." Noxee: "I love you."

Greg: "This glue is just like magic. If the gems survive another round, I'll order it for my shop." Noxee: "Another round, hm?"

Spoiler: After thorough testing, Greg ordered the glue for his shop ;) (So Greg seems to have a jewelry shop in the real world too, not just ingame. Tiny Can being very accurate again ^^)

'See, don't ever set me free I always wanna be by your side Girl, you really got me now You got me so I can't sleep at night

Yeah, you really got me now You got me so I don't know what I'm doing, now Oh, yeah, you really got me now You got me so I can't sleep at night' You really got me - The Kinks

Outtakes

Now I know where Jeb has it from ^^'

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter: 'Here comes the Sun' from the beginning ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Who killed Jack?' from the beginning ▶️ here

���� Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-28