#i mean i get the “understanding what you hear” part but... it’s okay.. i can tell you about it... we can learn korean together hahshdnsnqjg

[stellar-haikyuu]

hear you out ☆ iwaizumi hajime x reader

synopsis: you deserve to have someone listen to you nerd out about your interests. unexpectedly, you meet the person who's more than happy to listen (and perhaps learn more about you in the future). details: fluff | first meeting | strangers to lovers | ~1.3k words | speech-language pathologist gn! reader | timeskip! iwaizumi (a little flirty too lol) | dedicated to @sahrberrii

“Iwaizumi-san, your vocal cords are muscles,” you explain, showing him a video of the anatomical structure. “They contract and slam against each other whenever you shout or use a harsh tone.”

The athletic trainer nods, eyebrows drawn together as he observes the laryngoscopy video you use as an example for your clients.

“But I think you, out of all people, know what happens when you overuse muscles.”

“They get injured,” Iwaizumi whispers in response. He chuckles a little, but the action makes him wince.

“Take it easy,” you smile, almost reaching out to pat his back before stopping yourself.

“Thankfully, you don’t have any nodules, like this person.” You swipe through a few videos before landing on the one you’re looking for. “Nodules are a result of repeated trauma between the vocal cords. Kinda like the finger calluses guitar players get from pressing down on the strings all the time.”

He nods, grimacing as he listens to the person with vocal nodules attempting to produce higher pitches. You understand it perfectly; even after all the voice clients you’ve seen, you never get used to how painful it sounds.

“So, if you continue to overuse your voice, especially in this state, you can get nodules. Or, something worse that would require surgery. Think of a strain or a sprain, compared to a complete tear.”

The video ends, but a part of you still wants to show him more—just enough to keep him around a little longer. However, you still need to be mindful of your time, so you close the tablet and place it on your desk. “So, it-”

When you look at Iwaizumi again, he meets your gaze. Your face grows hot at his attention, and you can’t help but dart your eyes to the side.

“Uh, I meant to say that you should focus on resting your voice for the next week. And I mean full vocal rest. No whispering. You can write on a whiteboard, type, use text-to-speech, gestures, whatever you want.”

He gives you an eager thumbs-up. Cute.

“Okay,” you giggle. “That tells me you understand. I’ll give you a list of other exercises you can do to help with vocal strain. But for now, let’s focus on getting rid of the inflammation. Whenever you feel like your throat is tense or a little painful, you can massage it…”

You gesture at his Adam’s apple, but you happen to glance at it just as he swallows. 

“Uh.” You blank out for a moment, your hands freezing midair. 

Oh, man. Get a grip.

Snapping yourself out of it, you reach for your throat with your middle finger and thumb, demonstrating what you were talking about. “Just go in circular motions, up and down the neck. It’s up to you for how long.”

Suddenly, Iwaizumi raises his hand a little. He unlocks his phone, typing something on the notes app before showing it to you.

“Ah…” You hand his phone back to him. “That’s also up to you.”

“Oh. Me? Uh…” 

Does this mean I’ll have to touch him?

“Usually, I apply this much pressure…” Your fingers hesitantly hover near his throat. “Can I, uh-”

You don’t even complete your question before he consents with a nod. 

“Okay, um.” Your gloved fingers make contact with his skin, and you pray that he doesn’t feel your hand shaking.

Holding your breath, you press down. “This much, usually. Does it hurt?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head and gestures at you to continue.

“Okay, so you just keep doing this. How does-” You glance at his face, which no longer holds any tension. Relief floods over you at the immediate effect.

“How does it feel?”

You grin at the little smiley he leaves. “You’re welcome, Iwaizumi-san. Why don't you give it a try in the meantime?"

As Iwaizumi attempts to replicate what you’ve done, you grab a notepad from your desk, jotting down a few reminders.

“Anyway, I’ll send an evaluation report later for occupational or medical purposes. I know some insane bosses who seem hell-bent on making my clients’ lives harder. Hopefully that’s not the case for you?”

“Oh, goodness, poor you.” You can’t help but laugh as you imagine it. “Well, if you need someone to talk some sense into them, I’m here.”

A quick exhale leaves his mouth in amusement. You remind yourself to look up his team later.

“Okay, if you’re free next week, you can come back here so we can check on your progress. A call would be alright too, if that’s more convenient.”

Normally, you don’t even think twice when giving your clients your contact details; sometimes they keep in touch, sometimes they don't. But secretly, you hope Iwaizumi worms his way into your schedule.

“Anyway, sorry if most of this felt like a one-sided conversation. I hope I didn’t bore you too much or make it too technical-”

Iwaizumi shakes his head frantically, waving his hand. Then, he fumbles a little as he tries to enter his phone’s password.

Ah. He wants to say something?

“I…” You feel your heart swell at his sincerity. “Thanks, Iwaizumi-san. That means a lot.”

And for the first time in the last hour, you get a glimpse of the crow’s feet around his eyes as he grins.

Oh, dear.

Truthfully, you were a little nervous when he entered your office an hour ago. Nervous is an understatement—you were intimidated. He looked like he could just knock you out with a punch if you managed to upset him.

(Okay, he probably wouldn’t punch you, but you've had your fair share of dismissive, aggressive, and moody clients before.)

But now, Iwaizumi’s expression is washed over with a gentleness you didn’t think was possible with his sharp features.

You can’t find it in you to end the interaction, even though you have to.

As you muster the courage to finally send him off, he sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. He takes out his device again, typing something down. It takes a much longer time; he presses the backspace button repeatedly.

“Um, Iwaizumi-san, do you have a concern?” You fiddle with the hem of your scrub shirt. The silence was starting to have more weight to it.

He meets your eyes for a moment before he resumes writing his message.

What is it that has him hesitating so much?

When he shows you his phone screen, you almost gasp.

"Oh!" You don't need a mirror to tell that your face is flushed. "I- That means a lot. Thanks. Um..."

You scramble for a response as he prepares to type something again.

"But, uh, sure! Just let me know if there's something you want me to talk about. Hopefully, you don't get sick of my voice, Iwaizumi-san."

Then and there, you're pretty sure you short-circuit.

"Oh? No one's ever told me that before." You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. However, when you catch the earnest smile on his face, you feel your heart set alight.

"Anyway, thank you for giving me your time today, Iwaizumi-san."

A/N (or Iwaizumi's case history):

Hey, it's Stellar, your soon-to-be speech-language pathologist. I wanted to share my love for the profession through my fics, and decided to start with dear Iwa-chan.

To explain what's happening here, Iwa has a case of traumatic laryngitis, caused by vocal overuse and abuse (constantly screaming at the JNT to stop fooling around during training). Thus, his voice is very hoarse and breathy (sometimes, he can't even make a sound), and speaking hurts. Iwa would have tried remedies like throat sprays and hot tea, but they're not the key to recovery. Vocal rest is!

However, with how busy he is, he still needs to talk to multiple people and resorts to whispering. But, I must emphasize that whispering does NOT aid recovery, because you are still putting stress on the vocal folds.

In these cases, most people will wait for the problem to go away. If it's taking too long, they'll go to an ENT (ears, nose, and throat doctor; otorhinolaryngologist is the fancy word). Sometimes, it stops there, and patients are sent home; but in more severe cases, patients are referred to a speech-language pathologist (reader).

Anyway, since Iwa's case is caused by unhealthy vocal habits, it would help to have the voice specialist handle the case, especially during the recovery phase (dealing with any potential problems in pitch, loudness, and quality). This would increase the chances of a better prognosis/outcome! :)

The laryngeal massage that reader did on Iwa is recommended to most voice patients, especially if their vocal complaints are pain and tension. However, other things can be recommended to promote vocal relaxation, such as straw-blowing exercises (I'm not kidding! They're called semi-occluded vocal tract exercises). I just didn't talk about them in the scene because it felt like info overload, hahaha!

But Iwa's case is relatively mild (assuming he follows home instructions). There are other situations where vocal cords can be paralyzed, weakened, or spastic. Besides nodules, polyps and other growths can form and require surgical removal. Sometimes, one's voice may not be able to return to normal, so the focus of rehabilitation is to restore the most functional voice possible.

[Sidenote: Since this fic leans in a romantic direction, I should clarify that reader will follow professional ethics/rules. They both wait until Iwa is no longer a client at the reader's clinic/hospital before getting together.]

I hope you guys found the fic and A/N interesting in some way! :) Please take care of your voice; don't take it for granted! If you happen to have any questions about the voice, feel free to leave a reply, come to my inbox, or send a dm! <3

This video does a good job explaining AND showing stuff about vocal nodules (I like to think that this is what the reader shows Iwaizumi, hahaha). A fair bit of warning if you're sensitive to internal body imaging, but it's not that gross or graphic.

masterlist

[dddvader]

Nights like this (3)

It’s not quite the Void, but John can feel its presence around the edges, and Bob’s room seems darker than usual, his stuff scattered across the floor.

He’s a mess.

Holed up in his bed, under the blankets, miserable and hurting inside.

John hates the look on him – and hates that he actually cares, because that means he wants to help. And he can’t.

It’s not about you, he thinks with a pang of annoyance, trying to put his big ego aside for once. It’s not like he really thinks he’s, like, the main character or something – he might be an asshole, but he’s not delusional. It’s just… some kind of defense mechanism, so he can convince himself and everyone else that there’s no depressive shit in his head. That he’s not like the rest of them. He’s not fucking broken.

But neither is Bob, John believes. Not broken – just different. More… fragile. That sounds lame and stupid, and kinda lovesick even in his head, but John feels like it’s true. Maybe part of him wants it to be, because that would mean Bob can get better. Can feel better. That some time, and care, and understanding can bring him back to the middle.

Middle isn’t quite happiness, but it’s something. So John tries his best.

“Hey, buddy,” he murmurs, leaning against the doorway of Bob’s bedroom with a plate of his special high-protein pancakes in hand. “Need to eat something.”

Bob doesn’t really react, except for shifting slightly, but only to burrow deeper into the nest of blankets. John sighs and walks over to the bed, circling it so he can see Bob’s eyes.

And Jesus, tired he looks, watching him with such sadness it makes John’s stomach drop. He sets the plate on the bedside table and lowers himself onto the edge of the bed, facing Bob.

“Let’s try it together, huh? Just a couple bites. There’s blueberries too – you like them, right?”

“Dunno,” Bob mumbles, and John can barely hear him from under his cocoon.

“Don’t know if you still like ’em?”

“Don’t know if I…” He stops, sighs, then drags the blanket down a bit, and John sees the tight press of his mouth. Bob seems to be weighing whether it’s smart to keep talking, and John hopes his own face looks open enough when he carefully looks back, eyes searching Bob’s expression.

“Don’t feel like I… like I deserve it,” Bob finally continues, his voice fading away at the end.

John frowns.

“What do you mean – Bobby, you don’t deserve food? It’s not something to be deserved. It’s a basic need. Ever heard about basic needs?”

Bob visibly shrinks at that, pressing his eyes shut.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Well, you’re right, I don’t. Because this is bullshit,” John replies, trying hard to keep his voice steady, even though all he feels is frustration. “Why would you say that?”

“I don’t deserve anything,” comes Bob’s quiet, defeated response. Another piece of bullshit. He shifts again, as if preparing to turn away, but John stops him, moving closer to lay his hands on Bob’s shoulders, holding him down.

“Bobby, look at me,” he asks – and he means to ask softly. But Bob doesn’t listen. Just lies there, eyes closed, lips parting on a shuddering exhale.

John watches him and feels his insides twist. Feels so… helpless. Useless. It stirs anger in him – at himself, at the situation. At Bob’s nonsense, if he’s being honest, but he knows that now isn’t the time to judge. Even he understands that much.

He has close to zero experience with depression, no clue what the right words are. But he can’t just walk away either.

So he lets go. Backs off with a heavy sigh, dragging a hand over his face.

“Can I at least stay?” he asks after a long moment, listening to the ruffle of sheets as Bob finally turns away.

“Why?” comes the quiet and awfully apathetic response.

“Because you’re obviously not okay, and I don’t know how to… I don’t know what else to do.”

“I don’t need to be fixed,” Bob mutters quietly, curling into himself even more.

“Don’t wanna fix you,” John murmurs back, slowly lowering himself down beside him. He shifts closer, until he can feel Bob’s body against his chest through all the fabric Bob wrapped himself in. “Just wanna be there for you.”

The song that helped me put my thoughts into words is Sleep by Archive. Couldn’t find it here, so…

[autumnwoodsdreamer]

I would like to explain that the reason I didn’t like that last shot of Andor is because I don’t like the way Bix left in the last arc.

(Putting this under a cut so you can skip for spoilers or skip if you just don’t want to hear anymore about it. Perfectly understandable.)

Let me make this clear first: Bix leaving in itself is not the problem. I’m so glad that after everything they put her through, they didn’t just kill her or make her fight and keep fighting when she doesn’t want to. I’m glad that the last we see of her, she’s finally looking healthy and at peace. How often do we get such a quiet, fulfilling ending for a character (especially in Star Wars, and especially in the Everyone Dies Show?)

We all knew going into this show—and this season in particular—that Bix had to make an exit somehow because we don’t see her in Rogue One. The first option I think occurred to everyone (myself included) was: she gets killed. And the next thought I had was: that’s terrible and it would be the laziest option. As this season progressed and we saw her struggling so much, the more I hated the idea of them killing her off because I hate when they decide to just kill off a traumatized character like that’s the only mercy they can contrive for them.

Having Bix choose to leave is so much better.

But here’s the crux of the matter (for me, at least): it’s the way they had her leave.

I’ll admit: I didn’t mind the Force healer. Initially. The scene with her does resemble some of that overly cryptic, poetic, ominous prose that I usually associate with Doctor Who—you know? Someone standing there with a haunted look, gazing at the main character like they’ve just watched them die in front of them a thousand times, and then they go on to allude to it in the vaguest, least helpful way possible? But later when you, the viewer, see the finale and see the dots connect, you’ll know what it means? (And it makes for some really cool edits later)

Yeah, the Force healer’s speech was terribly on the nose but I enjoyed it. I liked that they slipped a little bit of Jedi stuff into the No Jedi Allowed Show. And the concept of a Force healer on Yavin just sparks so many ideas and stories for me.

But I didn’t like that, because of that one single ominous and vague interaction, suddenly, Bix reveals she’s had all these feelings and dreams for so long that Cassian is meant to do something in particular, like he’s so special and destined for it and she’s not supposed to be a part of it.

What?

I don’t blame Cassian for freaking out a bit at that because where is all this coming from? Bix earlier does express belief and faith in him, she does feel he’s an asset to the Rebellion and she does want him to fight, okay, but now she’s been sensing destiny? I thought the point was supposed to be that Cassian wasn’t a Chosen OneTM.

Then Vel comes and tries to convince Bix to convince Cassian to give more to the Rebellion, stay in line a bit more so they can actually use him. Okay. That’s fine. I don’t have a major problem with that. What I do have the problem with is that, somehow, Bix takes this and connects it to the Ominous and Vague Interaction and decides Cassian is a Chosen OneTM… in the There Is No Chosen OneTM Show.

So then, after Ghorman, Cassian returns and expresses a desire to leave. He wants a quiet, normal life. Bix takes away his choice, tells him she’s choosing for him.

When I first saw that message, I suspected the writers made her pregnant, but I really thought they wouldn’t go there.

It’s not the tragedy that Cassian has a child that he’ll never know that gets me; it’s that his choice for how to live his life is taken away and someone who claims she loves him did the taking away based on some vague notion that he’s a Chosen One.

Having Bix choose to leave because she doesn’t want to fight anymore is fine. Letting her return to somewhere she made connections in the community and found meaningful work is fine. Having her go on to have a family of her own is also perfectly fine.

Making that baby Cassian’s is not fine.

A part of me wouldn’t have minded if Bix had told Cassian and they had an actual mature discussion and decided she needed to leave and have the baby somewhere safe. Logically, Cassian would want to go with her—we want Cassian to go with her—but they could have had it that he agrees to follow and find her after he’s done with this mission he’s already committed to (this would work really well if the Bix leaving stuff was pulled forward to this arc. They could have done it; their hands weren’t that tied). Then you can still have Rogue One happen all the same but with some different context as they hammered home in the advertisement of this season (but why doesn’t Cassian mention Bix? Because he’s keeping her safe and it just doesn’t come up. Not a lot of time for casual conversation when the Death Star looms, you know?)

It’s just too obvious they wanted extra layers of tragedy and having Bix choose to leave because she fears she’s getting in the way of Cassian’s contribution to the rebellion is a cheap shot already, adding in a child he will never know (but made a sunrise for, yeah, okay, we get it “poetry; it rhymes”) is an even cheaper shot that I did not expect from a story that provided so much deep, complex writing in the first season.

And the thing is: this isn’t a tragedy for Cassian. Alright? He doesn’t know. The tragedy for him is Bix leaving and making the choice for him to stay in the fight. The baby is just supposed to be a tragedy for the viewers.

But had it been Bix choosing to leave, choosing to start a new life, choosing to have a family somewhere peaceful, then I would just enjoy it (and that’s how I’m gonna headcanon-fix-it for myself)

[goldenlionprince]

Cigarette Breaks

for the @jilypad bingo prompt "Sirius falls first" [AO3]

Sirius should have known that helping James woo the girl of his dreams could potentially backfire.

He just wasn't prepared for the way it would.

“What do you mean her eyes look like freshly pickled toads?” Sirius asks horrified as he looks at the piece of parchment James is scribbling on.

“I mean the shade of green. It's very bright and luminous and she likes potion ingredients, okay?” James says defensively and tries to cover his messy writing from Sirius' view. “And this is private. Have you ever heard that word in all your life?”

“No, and good for you or you'd have an ex-girlfriend very soon,” Sirius huffs, leaning against the bedpost of James' bed, arms crossed over his chest. “This is horrible, even for your standards.”

James glares up at him. “Because you could do so much better, Mr Poet.”

It's true that Lily Evans' eyes have a very particular shade of green. It's also true that fresh pickled toads would come close to it, but what girl wants to hear that the colour of her eyes reminds one of a dead, slimy animal?

Emeralds would do the trick, especially in a particular light, gleaming from the inside out, but it's kind of a lame comparison. Sirius doesn't want to know how many boys have told Lily that her eyes look just like emeralds. At least in that regard the pickled toads would be creative.

Emeralds are not special enough for Lily Evans anyway.

“Ha!” James says, all smug, leaning back against his headboard. “You can't come up with anythi-”

“The first new leaves on trees in spring after a long winter. That would also compare her to a breath of life and new beginnings after a spell of darkness and cold. There is also a kind of moss growing on willows in the deeper parts of the forest, glowing softly only in starlight. Something special and beautiful and unexpected and entirely magical.”

James blinks at him. “That's... actually not bad,” he says and grabs a new piece of parchment. He pulls it onto the book in his lap that he uses as a writing desk and starts to scribble on it again, a teasing grin on his lips. “How much time exactly have you spent on thinking of my girlfriend's eyes, Padfoot?”

“I don't...” Sirius starts but then stops. He's not thinking too much about Evans, right? It's just a normal amount of thinking. She is becoming a constant presence in his life now, it's just normal to want to know things about her, right?

He just wants to understand why James is so interested in her. It's just in James' interest that Sirius has come to the conclusion that, yes, Evans is pretty amazing.

She's clever and funny. Her humour can get a little dark, which Sirius actually adores. She's witty. Their back and forth about all kinds of subjects are enjoyable and interesting. He likes to needle her for fun, just for the thrill of arguing with her. She's giving back just as good as she gets. She's cheeky. She's headstrong.

Sirius is starting to really like her. That's completely normal, right?

Right?

He doesn't have a stupid crush. That would be ridiculous.

“Hey, can you come up with something to compare her laughter to?” James asks, not looking up from his parchment, therefore not seeing the way Sirius slowly grows paler. “She did call me fit the other day, she deserves a really nice note.”

And doesn't that comment just open up another door of doom for Sirius. Because it makes him think of a conversation he had with Evans only a few days ago.

“What do I say to him?” she had asked Sirius, following him down the corridor after Arithmancy like a lost little puppy. “I don't want it to sound stupid and you know what he likes. Do I compliment his hair?”

“Please don't, Evans,” Sirius had said to her with a sigh. “He already doesn't brush it, if you say anything nice about it I fear it will turn into its own sentient monster soon.”

Lily had laughed. “Okay, but then what do I say?”

“Just tell him he's fit. He's going to love that.”

And clearly he had. The slight blush and huge grin on James' face at just mentioning what Evans had said to him is telling Sirius everything he needs to know.

The thing is, it's true too. James is fit and that realization hits Sirius over the head like a branch of the Whomping Willow.

James is fit and Lily is gorgeous and Sirius might be in trouble.

A balled up piece of parchment hits Sirius between the eyes, ripping him out of his thoughts not too gently, followed by James' laugh.

“Lily's laugh,” James prompts with a grin. “Stop daydreaming about her and give me something to write.”

“Smile,” Sirius corrects him, sounding a bit dazed to his own ears. The way James' grin drops a little he's catching on as well but Sirius pushes on, giving him no room to ask what's going on. “Take her smile instead. Compare it to the warmth of spring sunshine if you're going for a spring theme in your note overall.”

“Wow, you're bloody good,” Peter says from his bed, sounding awed and excited. Sirius has forgotten he's in the room as well. “Can you do me next? I want to get Kate to go to Hogsmeade with me.”

“No,” Sirius says and pushes away from James' bed. He ignores them both as he walks the few steps over to his own bed and drops down onto it, pulling the curtains shut. He sets up a silencing charm and a mild stinging hex on the curtains, just in case.

He needs to have this crisis in peace.

****

Sirius manages to get through the rest of seventh year without trouble. If he's good at anything it's pushing away feelings after all. And if things get a little too much, if Lily sits a little too close to him on the couch in the common room, if James' fingers brush his neck and shoulder just a little too much from where he has flung his arm over the backrest of the couch, Sirius just gets up for a cigarette break. No big deal. It's an easy escape.

And if his smoking gets concerningly much and frequent the more the school year goes on, it's easy to blame NEWTs stress for it.

It's after they finish school where Sirius should have known his avoidance would come to bite him in the arse. But in his defence he really thought his embarrassing little crush on his two best friends would have left him by then.

It's still there.

Living with James in a nice little flat in London means living with Lily as well. Sirius should have seen that coming.

He also should have been prepared for Lily running around the flat in nothing but James' shirts, the hem of them barely brushing the tops of her thighs. It's summer after all. It's hot, especially here in the city.

Which also means James is running around mostly shirtless, since Lily keeps stealing his shirts.

And even that wouldn't be the worst. Sirius can allow himself a little bit of looking every once in a while, just a peek, and then keep his eyes to himself for the most part. Only James and Lily seem to forget more and more that they have a bloody roommate, which means Sirius catches them in compromising situations all around the flat multiple times.

Also the walls are rather thin. Silencing charms are in high demand these days.

Sirius very slowly loses his mind.

That's why he finds himself once again on the balcony, pulling a cigarette out of his pack and shaking his lighter free. It's the one place in the flat he can be sure he won't be suddenly confronted by too much naked skin or interlocked lips and wandering hands right in his field of vision. The one place where he doesn't have to watch Lily in James' lap, feeding him bloody strawberries.

The one place where he won't go insane.

“Your amount of smoking is getting really concerning,” Lily says, leaning onto the balcony railing next to him, wearing, once again, only a bloody t-shirt.

Sirius sighs and puts the cigarette between his lips. So much for his last place of refuge for his sanity.

“I only smoke – ”

“To avoid people, yeah, I know,” James says from the balcony door where he leans in the doorway, blocking the way back into the flat.

“Then why is everyone out here?” Sirius grumbles and lights his cigarette, cupping the small flame of his lighter against the wind. They have the whole damn flat, there is really no need to crowd Sirius out here too.

He successfully lights his cigarette, taking a drag as he puts away the package and lighter, only for Lily to lean in and steal it. She smiles at him as she puts the cigarette between her own lips, taking a long drag of her own.

Sirius rolls his eyes and reaches for his pack of cigarettes again to get out another one, but Lily catches his hand along the way. Her fingers circle his wrist, small points of too much contact, as she takes another long drag of the cigarette. Sirius watches the smoke as it gets blown away by the soft breeze.

He tells himself it's just the cigarette he longs for.

Lily watches him, her head tilted slightly as she puts out the cigarette in the ashtray attaches to the railing with a little bit of magic. “There are better things you could do with your mouth, you know?”

“Like what? Chewing gum?”

Lily laughs. “That too”, she says and then Lily, brave Lily who never backs down from anything, leans in and brushes her lips gently against Sirius'.

It's a barely there whisper. There and gone. More a suggestion than anything else.

Sirius freezes. His eyes dart from Lily to James, who watches them with a soft smile.

“A better use for your lips, no?” Lily asks, voice low like she's speaking to a spooked animal. It almost masks the slight insecurity that creeps into her voice as well, unsure about his lack of reaction.

If she'd only know how his heart is trying to escape his chest.

“Don't toy with me.”

It comes out a lot more raw and vulnerable than intended, spills right out of his heart without permission.

It might slip past Lily's notice if he's lucky, the way his feelings are right there in the open, only because he kept her from reading him too well so far, or so he hopes at least, but there is no way it slips past James'. He, of course, understands. It's there in his eyes, in the way he looks at Sirius.

“Never,” James says.

I'll hold your heart tenderly, he means.

And when has James Potter ever lied to him?

Sirius looks at James, watches as he pushes away from the door and steps out onto the balcony. He stops in front of Sirius. Sirius can't look away from his eyes, at the way the sunlight brings out the golden amber tones in them. His breathing is shallow, the only thing that betrays his nervousness. “Stop running,” James says, his voice barely a whisper as he leans closer. “Please.”

And then James kisses him. A soft, little kiss, almost scared.

Lily's lips already rattled the foundation of Sirius' world. James' kiss unsettles it completely.

A distant part of Sirius wonders if this is just a dream. Another way of his tired mind to come up with a way to torture itself with something he will never be able to have.

James slowly pulls back and looks at him with so much hope in his eyes. Lily leans against his side, a line of solid warmth.

If this is a dream, Sirius never wants to wake up again.

And if it's not...

Sirius crashes his lips back against James', his fingers tangling in James' wild curls, keeping him exactly where he wants him. James makes a surprised little sound against Sirius' lips, one that Sirius swallows eagerly, before James melts against his chest, almost boneless.

Lily laughs softly at his side, her lips brushing the fabric of Sirius' shirt at his shoulder.

When he's done with James he'll devour her next.

[napoftustar]

my best friend came to me said “one of our friends wanted to know/try out kpop and while others were sending blackpink, exo, bts songs i sent her txt!!! i’m the best, right???” HAHAHSGQGSHFJFJEJKDMQHF and i was like “proud of you lil soldier” hahsbdnwjqkdjxdmwkkf

[bueris]

okay maybe I should seriously reconsider my path in life and sell my soul to marketing or journalism instead

[littlelamy]

title: he tries to come back

warnings: 18+, language, angst, part 1 part 2 part 3

your phone won’t stop buzzing. text after text, call after call, rafe’s name flooding your screen like a goddamn sickness. your stomach churns at the sight of it, thumb hovering over the block button, but you don’t press it—not yet. not because you’re entertaining the idea of listening to his bullshit, but because blocking him feels like an admission that he got to you. and fuck that. he already took enough.

you let the phone ring, his name flashing, vibrating against your nightstand like an incessant mosquito. eventually, it stops, only to be followed by a long string of texts, desperate and fractured:

rafey: baby, please

rafey: i swear it was nothing

rafey: just pick up, just let me explain

rafey: i can’t fucking lose you

rafey: fuck

you squeeze your eyes shut, inhale deep through your nose. the audacity of this motherfucker. after everything—after sofia, after his bullshit excuses, after the way he snapped at you like you were the one out of line—he still thinks he has the right to your time, to your attention. to you.

you sit up, grabbing your phone, thumbs moving before you can second guess it.

you: your shit is at my house. pick it up and leave me alone.

his response is immediate, like he was just waiting, holding his breath.

contact name changed ✓

kook bitch: baby, please, don’t do this

kook bitch: just talk to me

kook bitch: where are you? i’ll come now

you toss your phone onto your bed with a scoff, standing too fast. your head spins slightly, but you ignore it, already moving. you don’t want to see him. you don’t want to hear whatever manipulative garbage he’s rehearsed. you just want him out of your life, out of your space.

so you gather his things. the hoodie you used to sleep in, the cologne bottle he left in your bathroom, the stupid baseball cap he always made you wear backward when you rode him in his truck. it all smells like him, like cedarwood and something inherently rafe, and it makes your stomach twist.

you shove it all into a bag and dump it on the porch.

a knock rattles the door not even twenty minutes later.

you hesitate, breath catching in your throat. then you force yourself to move, to unlock it and yank it open. and there he is—disheveled, breathless, storm-blue eyes scanning your face like he’s searching for a crack in your armor. his hands are shaking.

“baby—”

“don’t call me that.”

a muscle in his jaw twitches. “just—just let me talk, okay? just five minutes.”

“no.” your voice is cold, steely. “your shit is there. take it and leave.”

he doesn’t move. doesn’t even glance at the bag.

“i fucked up,” he says, voice thick, eyes glistening under the porch light. “i know that, i swear to god, but i love you, and i can’t—i can’t fucking breathe without you.”

his desperation is palpable, clawing at your skin, but you don’t let it seep in. not this time. because it’s not love. it’s possession. it’s selfishness. it’s rafe being rafe, taking and taking and never thinking about the wreckage he leaves behind.

you exhale sharply, shaking your head. “you don’t get to say that to me. not after what you did.”

“it didn’t mean anything,” he pleads, stepping closer, hands twitching like he wants to touch you. “i was drunk, i was stupid, i—fuck, baby, please.”

before he can reach you, before he can spill more poison into the air, your hand flies out.

smack.

the sound rings sharp between you, echoing off the house, slicing through the thick, humid night. his head snaps to the side, a stunned silence stretching between you. his cheek blooms red where your palm met his skin, and for the first time, he looks like he understands.

he doesn’t deserve you. not even a little bit.

his chest rises and falls, his lip quivering, but he doesn’t say anything. he just stares at you, his world shattering in real time. and you watch, unblinking, unfeeling.

“don’t ever come back here,” you whisper, voice steady, unshaken. “we’re done.”

he swallows hard, something breaking behind his eyes. but he nods. because he knows.

he knows.

tags: @rafesbabygirlx @namelesslosers @drewsephrry @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @rafedaddy01 @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @lil-sparklqueen @rafessweetgirl @esquivelbianca @p45510n4f4shi0n @palomavz @cokewithcameron @donaldsonsgirl @yncoded @lilbunnysfics @solaceluna @icaqttt

[all4yoi]

𝒩ot a bet﹕hyung line

𝑒nhypen x fem!reader ⚹ cw: each member ranges from 5-1k wc, fluff, lowercase intended, they swear, crying, uh someone kneels, not proud w heejake's 😞, not proofread ( lmk if i missed something! )

synopsis : upon learning that you were merely the stake in a bet, they wasted no time in mending your relationship.

part one !

★ LEE HEESEUNG ( 0.8k wc )

"y/n wait!"

heeseung's voice only made you walk faster. you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by stopping and talking to him. all you wanted to do now was to just march out of the school, go home, lock yourself in your room and maybe eat a tub of ice cream while you ugly cry yourself to sleep.

"y/n, please." heeseung pleaded, taking your elbow in his grasp as he spun you around and pulling you closer to the point you can feel his breath on fanning your nose.

he looked at you pleadingly. "it's okay," you managed to say in a shaky voice. "i understand, you can all laugh at me all you want now-" he shook his head, "it's okay really!" you added, pursing your lips.

"i just want to be left alone now okay?" and even if he knew you didn't mean just 'now.' he'll respect your wishes and let you go, but he won't give up.

heeseung watched you walk away from him with a heavy heart, wanting nothing but to just explain everything to you before it was too late. he couldn't lose you, not like this.

when he couldn't see your figure anymore, he messily messed his hair and made his way back to the gym eager to teach a guy how to not spit nonsense.

it's been a week since that happened and a week since he's seen you in the school. he asked some of your classmates and club members but all he received were nasty glares and short cold answers. what happened between the two of you spread like wild fire the following day you walked away from him. everyone knew you were kind of a nerd, but they also knew you were a complete angel and had a heart soft as a pillow.

they also knew that betting on a person's feeling isn't exactly it. — more under the cut!

so throughout that week too, his popularity decreased day by day. he used to receive heart eyes on the hallways and joyful 'good morning, heeseung!'s by random students, now all he received were judgemental glances and they avoided him like a plague, scared to be the next target of a cruel bet.

he didn't care though, all he cared about was your wellbeing. it's been a week and you've still yet to show up to class, so imagine his surprise when you suddenly walk in to the room with your usual hair do, your bag slung over on your shoulder and your glasses almost falling off your nose bridge.

he sat up straighter, gulping as his eyes followed your every move. he could feel hear heart beating louder, as if it was calling for you, desperate to be near you again.

he needed to fix this, asap.

it felt like forever before heeseung heard the bell ring. as soon as he heard the annoying sound, he messily packed up his things and ran after you.

"y/n!" your forearm was then again grabbed by him. although this time, he turned you slowly. heeseung silently admired your face. he missed you so much.

"let me explain, please. it's not what you think. i promise." he whispered, vulnerability in his tone. the simple nod you gave was his signal to interlace his fingers with yours as he looked for an empty room.

you ignored the looks everyone threw your way, either worried and judging. all you could focus on was his warm hand on yours and how you missed it so much, you didn't even realize you both were now inside an empty classroom.

"there was no bet." you furrowed your brows, looking at him with mixed confusion and frustration. "i promise, there was no bet."

"why would they say that then?"

"i don't know, but i promise there's no bet. throughout the months we've been together everything i've said was real." he said, desperate.

heeseung stepped closer.

"what i felt for you was real," he scrambled to get his phone from his pocket, opening his messages app. "you can go through my phone all you want, ask any of my friends-" you raised a brow.

"not those friends! i mean sunghoon, jay, jungwon.. you know." your raised brow made him sputter. "to be completely honest, they've been ignoring me after they heard about what happened.."

you looked at him hesitantly as you scrolled through his messages with shaking hands. you scrolled for so long, you even reached to the messages months before you both got together.

he didn't have any messages to his basketball team group chat unless it was announcements from his coach. the group chat with his actual friends were only filled with his pining over 'the girl on the back of his biology class.'

"heeseung.."

"there's no bet, baby. i'd never do that to anyone." he whispered, stepping closer. "i can't lose you like this.. i love you."

you sniffled as you came crashing on his chest, letting tears fall again. heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, sighing in relief as he finally have you back in his arms.

"i was so worried baby." he mumbled, kissing your head.

"i love you forever. i'll kill everyone who tries to get in between us again," heeseung pulled you closer if it was even possible.

"and if they do, i'll make sure to fix everything even if it means the whole world would hate me."

★ PARK JONGSEONG ( 1.0k wc )

jay was confused.

the both of you had a very well planned date tonight, so he was utterly puzzled to see that you weren't responding to his messages. for heaven's sake, you didn't even read his messages, he was just left in delivered.

he had tried calling multiple times but was only met with your automated voice telling him to leave a voice message. it came to the point that he had enough and decided to drive to your house.

throughout the drive, jay wondered what could've happened. he couldn't think of anything that would make you upset like this, he hoped that you just fell asleep and forgot to have your alarm on.

walking up the porch of your house, jay rang the doorbell and was met with your mom who opened the door with furrowed brows when she laid her eyes on him.

"good afternoon mrs. l/n, is y/n home?" your mother's frown deepened, hesitantly looking at the stairs behind her before looking back at him. "i'm sorry jay, she said she doesn't want to see you?"

that caused jay to furrow his brows as well. "wha- may i ask why?"

"i was hoping you'd tell me." if jay was confused a while ago, he was even more confused now and frustrated.

"can i see her, please?" he pleads, the older woman hesitantly opened the door wider to invite him in, and before he could ascend up the stairs, your mom stopped him.

"jay.." he looked back. "i don't know what happened to you both but take it easy on her, alright? she's been crying, i can tell." jay gulped and only nodded, sending your mom a pursed smile.

he knocked on your bedroom door, when no response came, he tried to turn the knob and was thankful that it wasn't locked.

jay slowly opened your door, seeing you curled on one corner of your bed as your body shook from your sobs you tried to keep silent.

he could feel his heart break at the sight. stepping a foot inside the room, he mentally cursed at himself when he accidentally bumped on to your mirror causing your head to shoot up in alarm at the sound.

your already glassy eyes was once again filled with tears as your eyes met his. jay barely dodged the pillow you threw at him, screaming at him to "go away and never show your face to me again."

jay frowned and came closer until he was sat on the edge of your bed, ignoring the words you just shouted at him.

"baby.. what's- what's wrong?" he asked, attempting to hold your hand but you retracted it and tried to throw another pillow at him. he swiftly caught it and brought it back down gently beside you.

"was it worth the one month of free car wash?" you spat through hiccups. jay stayed silent, confused.

"of course it probably was, that's what you do right?" the sight of your swollen and red face kept breaking his heart, he was still confused on what you were talking about but he'll let you talk.

this way he knew how he'd make things better.

"make me fall in love with you in exchange of a month's free of car wash.." you muttered, your eyes still boring on to his. at your words, it finally clicked. "..am i really worth just that much?" another sob.

right, he had forgotten to end the call when his 'friend' came barging into his apartment. you had probably heard all the nonsense the guy sputtered.. but surely you must've heard the way he defended your relationship and swore at that him too?

"i thought.. high school days were done jay. please just leave me alone now. you got what you want." jay shook his head, coming closer and pulling your body to his.

he wrapped his arms around you, his hand rubbing your back as you sobbed hard. he didn't try stopping you when he felt your weak punches that you threw at his chest, his own tears clouding his vision but he didn't dare make them fall.

"you got it all wrong, baby." he whispered, rubbing your nape as your face now rested against the crook of his neck. he ignored the wetness there. "i'm guessing you overheard the conversation with sungjae?"

you nodded, now calmer but not pulling away.

"did you also hear the way i told him to drop the stupid bet he kept insisting to happen? the way i kicked him out of my apartment?" you stayed silent, only sniffling as a response.

jay sighed, wrapping his arm around your waist tighter and pulling you closer.

"the whole campus knows sungjae's an asshole, baby. he was a jerk who thought that being a dick to others were entertaining, and i guess that's why i was like that back in high school.. i wanted to be accepted in their group."

"but we're in college now, i left that group but somehow sungjae's here and is pathetically still stuck in the past." he pulled your face from his neck, cupping your cheek and wiping away your tears.

"i've loved you since high school.. and there's no bet, baby. the moment he had found out i was dating you, he kept bringing up a bet about how long we would last.. but i always shut him out, told him to cut it out and that there will be no bet happening, especially if you're the one getting betted on."

new fresh tears come rolling down your cheek, this time they were tears of relief. glad to know that everything was real, that you weren't just a toy.

"you promise you'll cut him off starting now?" you whispered, looking at him with big glassy eyes.

"i've cut him since high school, y/n. it's him who's keep clinging to me. but i promise he won't be saying anything about the both of us anymore." jay pressed your foreheads together, pressing a soft peck on your lips.

"you will forever be the prettiest and the only one i'll ever love this much in this world, my baby."

★ SIM JAEYUN ( 0.5k wc )

jake watched you run away in confusion, staring at the laughing crowd and turning to look at your locker only to be met with the note he has been telling everyone to throw away.

he angrily took it from your locker, ripping the small paper into pieces. "how many times have i told you to cut this shit out? do you want me to report all of you for harassment and bullying?" he raised his voice at the crowd who had stopped their laughter.

"that's what i thought." he frowned, pushing past them and running after you.

jake knew what everyone was doing the moment it spread that he was dating you. he had received dms telling him he could do better and if he was merely toying with your feelings.

he had told them countless times to drop it, even going far as to almost punch the person who has created the bets if it wasn't for sunoo holding him back. he had hoped that it wouldn't reach you. it was another one of his reasons on why he always went to school earlier, just in case it was placed on your locker. unfortunately, you were earlier than him today.

it's not like he was tolerating it, he had tried countless times to report it but they'd only say it was probably only for fun and he shouldn't take jokes seriously.

but jokes were meant to be funny, right?

jake opened the door that lead to the rooftop slowly, peeking his head to look if you were there. to his luck, you were.

your back faced him while your bag was placed down carelessly beside your feet. jake approached slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you further.

"baby?" he mumbled loud enough for you to hear. you turned your head towards him, showing him your tear stained cheeks. "oh, y/n." he sighed and held your cheeks, wiping away the salty liquid off your precious face.

"jake.. why are you dating me, of all people?" you ask through tears, avoiding his eyes.

jake's eyes softened, he dated you because you were different from everyone who wanted to be like the everyone else, did that make sense? you were your own person, you didn't care about social status, wealth, his circle of friends, and whether someone was good looking or not. you were soft hearted, to the point that you had let others take advantage of that leading them to walking all over you.

and he hated that.

"why not you?" he said softly, tilting your chin up so that you could meet his eyes. "you're everything i've ever needed."

"you can tell the truth." you mutter, looking at jake. his mouth formed a pout, heart broken at the way you had so little love for yourself.

"i am telling the truth, baby." he whispers, taking your hands and placing them on his face before putting his own hands back on yours. "everything is a joke to them when i'm involved." you whisper, ignoring the way your voice broke.

"we don't care about what they think, they're all just jealous. everything we've been through and what i feel for you are real, no jokes." he smiled, pulling you closer to him.

"you promise?"

"baby i'd choose you over anyone in this world over and over again until the heavens above is tired of me."

★ PARK SUNGHOON (0.7k wc)

sunghoon frowned, confused and hurt. he wanted to fix whatever happened, so he took his phone from the couch and his car keys from the wooden bowl in his foyer.

it was when he was in the elevator that he noticed his phone was open. his breath hitched, finally knowing the reason for your departure and choice of words. sunghoon quickly left the group chat and started dialing your number.

it was true that you were a bet. were. he didn't even know why he agreed, maybe because he wanted so badly to fit in. he didn't want a repeat of middle school, so instead of being the bullied and made fun of, he was now the one doing those to others. he wasn't proud of it at the slightest.

that doesn't excuse his actions though. the longer he spent time with you, the deeper he fell. sunghoon never planned for you to find out this way, he already had a plan. first he had to get rid of his 'friends', tell you everything then ask you if you still wanted him to meet your parents.

guilt always ate him alive whenever you would stay over and sleep by his side. he couldn't bring himself to meet your family knowing he hasn't told you everything and the truth.

he felt like his heart would jump out of his chest as he stood infront of the door of your house. if he died tonight on the hands of either your father or older brother, he'd welcome death with open arms.

i deserve it.

he audibly gulped when the door opened, revealing.. you. the way your brows furrowed at the sight of him tightened his chest. he stopped you before you could even close the door on him.

"y/n please, let me explain everything.. o-okay?" the way his voice cracked and the unshed tears in his eyes almost made you give in, but upon remembering what you've read, the anger in you was back.

"explain what?" you spat, turning to look over your shoulder before back at him. "that all those months i've spent loving you," you pointed at him harshly. "was just for entertainment? tell me, what was in it for you, huh?"

sunghoon shook his head, the tears now flowing down his pale cheeks. "no, no! i promise, please i love you." he reached out but you stepped back, biting your lip as you held back the tears.

"just.. leave me alone sunghoon," he felt his heart crack even more. "you've had your fun, you can laugh about i all you want now." you were taken aback when he knelt infront of you, hugging your waist as he sobbed.

"what the-" sunghoon tightened his grip on you, muttering along the words of 'im sorry', 'never meant to be like this', and something along the lines of regretting something.

"sunghoon- oh my god." you groaned as you descended to face him. "please, i didn't mean to. i-" he hiccuped, "i'm sorry, i know it was stupid and there's no reason for me to accept the bet- but i just wanted to fit in. i wanted them to take me as a part of their circle- but, but i soon realized that it was stupid." he looked at you with swollen eyes, desperation swam in his dark irises.

"because i realized that hurting you isn't worth being a part of their asshole group. it started with a bet, i admit, but i truly love you, please believe me." a sob made its way out his throat as he clung into you, his arms circling your neck. "it wasn't a lie whenever i said i'd meet your parents, i was constantly trying to get rid of them first before i met your family, i didn't want to meet them until i've told you the complete truth."

your own tears descended down your cheeks, your heart hurting for yourself and sunghoon. you stayed on the floor wrapped around each other for a moment before you both helped each other up to your feet, he looked at you intensely with red bloodshot eyes. "i'm sorry, i understand if you don't want anything to do with me anymore."

"i understand hoon," you whispered, bringing your hands to cup his face. "but you have to understand too that i can't trust you fully right up again." he nodded, putting his own hands on yours as he kissed your palms.

"i know.. and i'll spent the rest of my life earning it again. i love you."

— ౨ৎ thank u for tuning in ! @j-jinxee @slp23 @unsurereader @heelovesmeknot @sunshine-skz @hoondrop @jooniesbears-blog @jordan1024 @heeswif3y @outroherrr @harufluff @cheeseball0 @yjwluver @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @itjengirl @emiliasstuffs-blog @isa942572 @lufcxx @alienqbrain @woniebae @baekxo07 @titttuaf @chuuswifereal @kyanmeai @isabellah29 @deezbin @skzenhalove @eneiyri @a4ruby @saxytalks @denleave1088 @imdelulu @powerpuffstuts @hoonatic @dollydigital @chososloverfr @dummyf @chanyeolchannie @oddracha @wonwushu @strawberrynull @ceciloveshee @loumin908 @cexg68 @grassbutneo @gardenwons @pag-yerin @bora04 @iluvnikism @jellymiki

— i couldn't tag those who's usernames aren't in bold :(

[alexiroflife]

jjk men calling you annoying...

"hi! ik u have a few reqs to do and ur going on vacation but i was reading some of ur works and saw u did a headcannon for calling jjk men annoying. i was thinking what if u did the opposite w the jjk men calling reader annoying? if u dont decide to do this thats okay! cant wait to eat up your other upcoming fics <3" -anon

some angst, jjk men being assholes (except for nanami)

satoru, suguru, kento, choso, toji, sukuna

satoru gojo:

normally, satoru is the one that is considered to be annoying. every higher up, coworker, and student of his alike would agree that satoru’s personality is pestering on its own, for his behavior doesn’t align with the severity of the jujutsu world in the eyes of others.

satoru has never cared how others judged him, for he often takes to picking on others for the sake of getting a reaction. he enjoys lightening the mood of drab situations, therefore he’s tossing around inappropriate jokes during meetings, teasing utahime for the umpteenth time, or trying to force megumi into spending quality time with him while the sixteen year old does his best to pretend he doesn’t know him in public.

and with you, he’s far worse. satoru can not bear being away from you or your attention being focused into anything other than him for longer than two minutes, and he’s always making an excuse to abandon whatever he’s doing to be by your side. satoru is the very definition of clingy, and while everyone finds it annoying, you can not deny that you adore how the strongest glues himself to you as though he can not bear for the two of you to be parted.

those around him believe it’s impossible for someone as annoying as gojo to actually be annoyed by anything, but you know what pisses him off. you know that he can not stand the jujutsu higher ups and how they antagonize children who were given no choice but to live the lives they lead. he can not stand the way they order him around to carry out unfavorable tasks with no regard for his past experiences or the experiences of the students that he is meant to monitor. he can not stand the lectures, the judgmental tones, the expectation of respect when it is not given in return.

and he can not stand when he is forced to attend hearings or meetings with them, where he has to listen to them drone on and on about how irresponsible he is when satoru is the only one truly looking out for the good of all groups. they demand so much of him, yet treat him like trash in return. nothing peeves him off more.

he knows that you understand this about him as a jujutsu sorcerer yourself, but you have the tendency to be more tolerant of injustices than he is. what he means is that you know how to save face for the sake of your own sanity and pay the elders no mind whilst simultaneously making them think that you are in cooperation with them. you know how to feign manners and respect, which satoru does not bother to do.

consequently, when you tell him that the upcoming meeting that he has scheduled with the higher ups is one he should attend instead of skipping due to its level of importance, he can’t help but be irritated with you.

“i’m just saying, satoru,” you say into the speaker with your phone pressed to your ear. the blue eyed man is on his way to said meeting after you practically forced him to attend, and he’s not at all happy about it. “once you’re in there, you’ll be out in no time.”

“(y/n), somehow those pricks make a half an hour feel like two,” your boyfriend complained into the phone. you place your hand on your hip and look up to the ceiling.

“you’re being so pessimistic about it,” you sigh. “it’s gonna be worse the worse you talk about it.”

“no, it’s gonna be bad regardless because these higher ups don’t know up from down or left from right.”

you can tell he’s growing aggravated, which was the opposite effect you wanted this call to have. you lower your head and attempt to shift, to reassure him in a different way.

“it’s gonna be okay, toru,” you tell him. “you’re above these people anyway, no matter what the hierarchy at this school is-“

“if you really thought that, you wouldn’t have made me go.”

you frown. “you didn’t really have a choice with this one, you know that right? whether you like the assholes or not, the meeting itself is important. you need to be there.”

“i really wish you’d stop saying that,” he exhales, agitatedly.

“stop saying what?” you scrunch your face, hand falling from your hip. “that it’s your responsibility?”

“yeah, actually,” he snaps. “hell, you’re starting to sound just like everyone else.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you scoff. “satoru, i’m just trying to help you. sometimes you just have to suck it up and deal.”

“suck it up?” he repeats incredulously. “i suck it up every day of my life. everyone wants me to do something for them, but expects me not to have my own opinions in return and that shit doesn’t make any sense.”

“that’s not what i’m trying to say-“

“then what are you trying to say? to just go along with all the messed up shit the higher ups want me to do?”

“no.”

“then what?”

“to just attend a meeting for the sake of your job, satoru. my god, that’s all.”

he tchs, and you can imagine him rolling his eyes on the other line. “fine. whatever.”

“what’s with your attitude? i’m genuinely just trying to look out for you, like…?”

“you’re not helping, (y/n). you’re being annoying.”

his words sting, and you stand still in the hall to your classroom as you register satoru’s tone and accusation. there’s silence, and satoru knows that when you say nothing more, he’s crossed a line.

even so, he’s too heated currently to own up to it in this moment, so he lets the silence swallow you both as he walks.

“okay,” you mumble apathetically after a while. “bye, satoru.”

you hear him prepare to say something, but your thumb is already hiding the end call button.

throughout the next half and hour, you try your best to focus on teaching your lesson to the second years, but you find yourself struggling.

you understand satoru’s frustrations with the higher ups, but to take that frustration out on you is completely uncalled for.

and to call you annoying? for ensuring that he doesn’t further endanger his already shaky position with the the authorities over him? how ungrateful is that! how could he label you as a disturbance to him when all you’ve ever done was try to lighten his load?

you don’t understand it. and it hurts to know that one little thing in comparison to the plethora of clingy annoyances that satoru has the habit of displaying that you don’t even find aggravating is enough to send him over the edge.

you’re aggressively erasing your chalkboard at the end of your lesson when you hear the sound of air flushing and papers fluttering behind you. immediately, you feel satoru’s presence much to your displeasure.

“baby?” he calls you tentatively, though you already know full well that he is there in your vacant room. you don’t reply, continuing to swipe your eraser over the chalk. “baby, please don’t ignore me,” he sighs guiltily. “can i… can we just talk?”

“get out, satoru.”

you can physically feel Satoru’s mannerisms droop behind you, but you do not fall for it. he deserves your standoffishness, your unwillingness to engage.

“i just wanna talk, (y/n)… just five minutes?”

you clench your jaw, brows angling tensely as his earlier words run through your mind again and again. your pace picks up and your movements grow harsher.

before you know it, you feel the white haired man brushing behind you inches away, reaching a hand to your shoulder. “(y/n)?”

“stop!” you rip away, stepping back. satoru retracts his hand quickly, crystal eyes blown wide as he watches you. you slam your eraser down onto the ledge and hold your hands up. “just stop! you don’t get to be rude to me and then just come back around as if everything’s okay. what if I don’t want to talk to you?”

having removed his blindfold before coming here, you can see the pain and remorse circling in his gaze. “pretty, i didn’t mean to say what i said,” he starts again slowly. “i-i’m sorry, i was just overstimulated and angry- not even at you, and you were telling me to do something I didn’t want to do but had to do, then i…” he huffs. “i’m so sorry.”

you fold your arms and stare harshly at the board, brows twitching as satoru’s smooth, genuine apology flows through your ears.

when you still don’t say anything, satoru’s mouth tugs downward and his lashes fluttere prettily over his cheek. “it’s okay if you don’t wanna talk to me or see me right now. i was being shitty, and i didn’t mean it, baby. i just had to come and tell you that as soon as the meeting was over… and you were right. i needed to be there.”

you close your eyes. “why don’t you ever listen to me?”

satoru practically jumps when he hears you speak. “what did you say?”

“you never listen to me, toru,” you look at him desperately. “you always do what you want to do, and when i have to make you do something, you pout. is what i say really that unimportant to you?”

“no,” he rushes out, swooping in to stand before you so he can meet your eyes up close. “no, no, no. no, that’s not it.”

“then what is it?”

“i listen to you, baby. i do, i just struggle when you give me suggestions about work because we have completely different approaches. you play by the rules more and i do what i think is best even if it’s not what I’m told is best. which is okay. i’m not saying that either way is better than the other, it’s just that difference between us clashes sometimes.”

you hum.

“but that doesn’t mean i don’t listen, or don’t respect you, (y/n). i respect you more than anyone i know.”

“then you should act like it.”

“i know,” he pushed out his bottom lip, taking your forearms in his hands. “i know, i can be all over the place sometimes. i’m sorry pretty girl.”

you wish you could stay angry, but satoru’s touch almost instantly melts away the tension in your body. almost.

“please don’t call me annoying like that again,” you look over him. “seriously, that wasn’t nice.”

“never,” he swears. “i promise, never again. i don’t even know why it came out in the first time. please forgive me, baby, I’m sorry.”

you exhale, and before you can respond, satoru is ducking down and suffocating your face with a plethora of kisses from your forehead to cheeks and down to your jaw. murmurs of apologizes slip through as he attacks you, and you squeal as you try turn away.

“okay!” you shout, pushing at his chest. “i forgive you, get off!”

“i love youuu,” he lands a particularly long kiss to your nose. “so much. let me take you out tonight to apologize properly, pretty. will you let me?”

you stifle a smile, keeping your hands to your chest as you glare up at him when he pulls away with a grin. “fine.”

suguru geto:

suguru loves you dearly, truly he does, but he notices that the longer he is in a relationship with you, the more entitled you become. granted, he spoils the hell out of you because you’re his one and only, therefore he only feels it is appropriate to shower you with the unconditional love that he has for you.

you know that suguru rarely ever says no to you. hell, he doesn’t want to deny you of the things you ask of him because he should be the person that you always come to for anything. along with his girls, you’ve stolen his heart, and his love language is taking care of you - making you rotten.

so when suguru can not abide by what you demand, you pout and poke and prod and pester. in some ways, you remind him of how satoru used to behave in his company, so commanding of what you want from him in the most combative, brattiest way that it has him rubbing the space between his forehead with angled brows.

and the attitude on you is criminal. suguru knows he can not necessarily talk because his attitude is just as bad, but the moment suguru disagrees with you about something, you make it a point keep pressing the matter sassily.

there are a million things that suguru finds to be more of a pain to his peace than you, but he can not deny that when you get on his nerves, you truly tick him off.

suguru is known to have very little patience in general. he chalks it up to his occupation, having to deal with idiotic human beings all day to the point where it wears down his capacity for bullshit. he needs things to resolve themselves at his pace in order to feel as though he can go about his day, but when they don’t, it frustrates him to no end.

that is why when you fail to give it a rest after suguru has told you no four times now to getting lunch with you because he has business to take care of, he is beginning to lose his cool.

“(y/n),” suguru exhales your name in exasperation. he’s on his way out of the front door. “angel, you know i’m busy today. you’re usually a lot more understanding when it comes to my schedule, i don’t know where the disconnect is right now.”

you’re growing upset, for you’ve never enjoyed watching suguru leave, but for some reason you are feeling all the more sensitive to his departure today. the dark haired cult leader has been so busy lately that you and the girls have hardly been able to catch him for longer than five minutes when he’s home. you want to sit and talk with him, to at least have a quick thirty minute meal together, but he’s still refusing you, and you never fair well with being refused by geto.

“but suguru,” you curl your brows and gaze at him sadly. “I’m just asking for one day. that’s all, we don’t even need to be out long. i already have a place in mind that’s right around the corner from the group- i can even pick you up. you won’t have to worry about a thing. please, just this once?”

the hazel eyed man can not stand saying no to you, even more so when you look at him with such pleading in your eyes, but he’s told you a hundred times that he can’t do what you please today. as much as he’d love to go to lunch with you, there are no exceptions. he’s already pushing himself behind by trying to reason with you.

“the answer is no, (y/n),” he tells you with soft sternness. your frown deepens leading Suguru to walk over to you. he guides his hand to your waist and presses a kiss to your forehead in an attempt to make you feel better. “i’m sorry. i know things haven’t been the best lately with me being home, but i’m trying my best.”

you want to be more supportive, but you miss suguru. you do, and to feel like a second priority to a cult he doesn’t even like makes you upset.

you grumble incoherently under your breath and cross your arms. suguru feels your stature shift, and he pulls away to eye you. you avoid his gaze purposefully, and suguru instantly knows what’s going on with you.

“don’t start,” he advises as a warning. you don’t take well to the comment, the muscles in your face tightening as you go to ease away from suguru’s grasp. he doesn’t have time for this right now. “i mean it.”

“i’m not even doing anything,” you murmur, looking down as suguru examines you closely.

“you’re sulking.”

“okay, and maybe that’s because i don’t want my boyfriend to leave?” you snap.

“i know, (y/n). you’re acting like i want to leave too, but this is work.”

“and clearly work’s more important now,” you roll your eyes.

suguru shakes his head and pulls away with narrow eyes. “you’re being incredibly irritating right now.”

you freeze, geto’s words stabbing you through the chest like a stake to the heart. “what?” you repeat weakly, your grit having gone.

“you aren’t listening to me. it’s getting old and it’s irritating,” he says again, this time as he turns away and walks back to the door.

you stare at his back blankly. your heart hammers against your chest, and your face falls. normally when you behave a certain way that suguru doesn’t appreciate, he spends his time either circling back and trying to reach and understand or punishing you. but now, he’s just walking away with no intention of doing either. you expected more, and you hadn’t expected for him to outright call you annoying.

sure, you push a little too much sometimes, but annoying? all you want is him. is it annoying to desire such a simple thing?

“i’ll be home later, alright? we can talk about this when i get back,” he tells you, pulling the door open and allowing the sunlight to peer in. when you do not respond, he speaks again in annoyance. “alright?”

you still don’t answer, and this time he turns over his shoulder to see what is keeping you from giving him a verbal affirmation.

his face relaxes, however, when he says you standing silently with your hands at your sides. your gaze has turned to one of subtle embarrassment as you frown, mulling over suguru’s emotions in a less stubborn, more deflated manner.

despite suguru’s irritation with you, the moment he sees your discomfort, he’s flipping the switch in an instant.

slowly, he shuts the door again without a word. he figures it won’t hurt anyone to be another five minutes late, for he is the founder of the religious group after all. what he says goes, and he will not leave until this mild conflict with you is sorted out.

he walks over and takes your head in his hands, tilting your face up to reveal your big, shiny eyes. with another quiet sigh, he’s taking one hand and rubbing your shoulder as he holds your stare.

“i didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” he tells you gently, immediately knowing what is plaguing you. “i’m just frustrated.”

“…frustrated with me?” you ask slowly.

he presses his lips together. “yeah, angel. i am a little bit,” he confesses honestly. while this isn’t the response you wanted, geto knows it’s the response you need to hear… even if you struggle to accept it, your head nodding stiffly but your eyes telling a story of humiliation. and he hates it. he hates how unhappy you look, but no good has ever come from partners lying to one another about how they feel.

“but,” you start as suguru’s swipes a thumb over your brow lovingly. “suguru, all i wanted was to have lunch with you. is that such a crazy thing? you’re hardly around anymore.”

“i know, (y/n), and no it’s not, but you’re not respecting the fact that while i want to more than anything, i can’t. not today,” he says once more. “i do this for you and the girls too, you know. it’s not just for me. any money i make is yours, and if i need to work my ass off to provide for you and our future, i will. and it’s not fair for you to throw a fit when i can’t drop all of that when you ask me to.”

it’s a hard pill for you to swallow, but you know that suguru’s point is more than valid.

you inhale and exhale deeply, his touch swarming you tenderly despite how he feels. “I’m sorry,” you apologize. “im sorry for pushing. i just want you here. it gets hard sometimes, you know?”

“I know.”

he pulls your face in to kiss your cheek softly, your hand going to cradle his wrists.

“and i’m sorry if you’ve felt neglected in any way, and for calling you irritating. there was probably a better way for me to say that.”

“it’s okay,” you mumble as pulls away. “i probably was being annoying anyway...”

geto smiles softly. “you were,” he chuckles, and you gap at him.

“suguru,” you frown and he laughs again.

“sorry.” the hazel eyed man leans in to capture your lips in a soft kiss before you can pour any longer, eyes gleaming kindly when he draws back. he at least does not look aggravated any longer, his features much calmer than before. “how about a day out this weekend? you, me, and the girls.”

your eyes light up. “really? you’re sure?”

“yeah, angel,” he nods. “i miss you all too, you know. you’re all i think about when I’m dealing with those monkeys all day.”

“…can we maybe go to the farmer’s market?” you suggest. “i wanna get some stuff to make a big dinner for us, and the girls want to get some flowers.”

“absolutely we can. sounds great.”

“thank you,” you smile, wrapping your arms over his neck and tugging him down into a tight hug. suguru laughs gently, sliding his arms around you. “i hope you have a good day today. i won’t pester you about work anymore.”

“okay, baby,” he rubs your back. “I gotta go now, okay? i’ll try not to be out late. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

kento nanami:

despite kento’s remarkable talent in serving you as your partner, he is still a human being subject to human emotions. when he’s annoyed with you, he doesn’t make it your problem. he simply makes it known that he is beginning to be plagued by the feeling, and though it hurts your feelings, you understand and give him the space he needs.

kento does not get irritated with you often at all. you are a gift upon his stressful life, and it’s difficult for you to pose as a source of stress when the rest of his life is already so anxiety-inducing. you’re his everything, and even when he does get ever so slightly annoyed with you, it’s never at the same level as other factors - like gojo. you don’t even begin to compare.

the only time nanami finds himself growing upset because of you is when you choose not to listen to or communicate with him.

nanami works hard to put your needs before his own and he is more than happy to do so. he feels it is the only way things should be, for as long as you are happy and well cared for, he is content.

however, there are moments when he does so that can come off to you as a tad overbearing. he cares for your physical and mental wellbeing, so that also comes with constant check ins about whether you’re eating properly or how much sleep you’re getting. it’s sweet, his persistent doting, but you don’t always fair well with how often he’s interrogating you about your lifestyle when he literally witnesses every second of what you do as your fiancé.

and of course, when you react poorly by getting even the slightest hint of an attitude or portray your own annoyance in a poor manner, nanami, who always tries his best to find a solution to problems if you are bothered by something, is bothered himself when you do not cooperate.

nanami is incredibly patient with you, and he tries his best to practice patient with you when he internally feels you are being unreasonable.

so he resorts to silence as he ponders what to do next. you’re both sitting at the kitchen table as tension swirls about. your knee is frantically bouncing as you glare ahead. you don’t like when kento does something to bother you, for everything he does is so perfect you feel like you don’t have a right to be bothered, and you rarely ever are. and you may try to hide when you’re upset, but nanami sees you so clearly. he knows you like the back of his hand, therefore, there is no hiding.

and of course, nanami would never grow annoyed with what you feel… it’s how you communicate with him when you feel a certain way. you shut down and make it impossible for him to talk through it, and as someone who likes to work through things while they are occurring, it’s a bit of a pain when you go quiet and refuse to give him anything.

now, you both sit rather annoyed with one another, for that is likely the only instance nanami will feel some sort of irritation sparked by you. the blonde taps his finger against the table with his legs crossed, unsure of how to move forward. he’s tried calling your name, tried asking you what’s wrong, tried suggesting anything he can do to fix it, but you, afraid to even further speak truth into your emotions, reply with shrugs and mute shakes of your head.

it takes at least another few minutes for nanami to rise slowly, fixing the collar of his shirt and clearing his throat you look up and see by his rigid posture that he is not in the happiest of spirits, and when you finally notice, you realize that he had been silent along with you for quite some time now, his series of questions having ceased.

“i am going for a drive,” he announces formally. you blink up at him, your knee still bouncing. his chocolate eyes meet yours with a hefty sigh. “i won’t be longer than forty minutes.”

forty?!

“…okay,” is the very first word you have said in a while, and nanami nods curtly. though he appears indifferent, his shoulders are tense, his jaw is taut, and a dent creases the space between his brows. you can tell by these signs that he has grown to match your previous feelings. “where are you going?”

“to clear my head. i don’t believe anything productive will come from the both of us sitting here like this.”

you furrow your brows. “are you angry with me now?”

“no,” he gathers his keys. “i am not angry. only, admittedly, a bit perturbed,” he says without looking at you.

you know that nanami had annoyed you first, but to hear him tell you so is humbling nonetheless. what reason does he have to be annoyed? what did you do?

“um,” you stumble. “why…?”

the prospect of you now trying to interrogate him after he had spent so much time trying to get through to you, or at least a word out, does very little to ease the man.

he lifts a hand, guiding his palm out to ease the conversation before it can escalate. “(y/n), i’m not in any state to talk about this right now. give me a bit and i will be back.”

his eyes find yours to ensure that you see that earnest in his brow hues, and your shoulders slump, your knee stilling completely.

“is that alright?”

you nod slowly. “yes. that's alright.”

kento nods again, swiping up his jacket from the back of his chair before stepping out of the door, clicking it shut behind him.

you reel in his absence, sitting in the aftermath. maybe you reacted poorly… but you couldn’t help it. you don’t always enjoy being overwhelmed with a series of questions from your boyfriend as though he is your doctor or father. sometimes you just wish to be.

you know he only does so out of concern. you know he loves you, better than anyone has ever loved you, but your reaction had been involuntary.

the look on nanami’s face only proved that you should have handled the situation differently. you hate when he’s upset, but that way of thinking alone is unfair. he likely hates when you’re upset too, and you shut down when he was trying to help.

as guilt swarms you, you retreat to the living room where you mindlessly flip through the tv channels, your focus elsewhere.

kento ends up returning hardly twenty minutes later. you look in surprise to the door as he enters with takeout in his hands. he looks up, his face a bit more relaxed as he enters.

neither of you speak as he kicks his shoes off at the door and makes his way toward you. he sets the bags of food down on the coffee table before you and slowly sits down next to you, hands to his thighs.

“i got us dinner,” he says as you shuffle to make room for him. the aroma of your favorite thai food fills your senses and makes you become rather aware to your hunger, for you haven’t eaten in a while.

kento sits with his forearm resting on his knee, his body facing you. you look away, embarrassed to even speak to him, though you do whisper a ‘thank you’ that is only audible to nanami because he is seated right beside you.

he reaches a hand out to hold yours, his other sliding over top to caress the back of it. “honey,” he starts softly. “I don’t want this to go on longer than it should.”

“you’re back earlier than you said,” you mention, looking down at his hands over yours.

“i didn’t need to be gone long to want to sit down with you about this again.” you nod. “are you okay?” he asks you, and you nod again.

“yeah, are you?”

“i’m better,” he answers. “my intention was not to leave on a bad note so abruptly. i just needed a moment to myself.”

“no, i understand, ken. i don’t blame you for taking a step back.”

“are you okay with me telling you why i was upset?”

“of course i am.”

he gives a gentle smile before proceeding. “it seems that every time i try to work through something with you, you do not wish to cooperate. if you were to tell me that you need space before explaining, i would understand better and give you time, but you say nothing. you barely even look at me, and i try my best to give you the patience you deserve but you do not do the same for me.”

“it’s not that- I wasn’t trying to be impatient with you, it’s just that sometimes i don’t want to talk about things.”

“then I would prefer it if you’d say that instead of shutting me out, because then i’m left to pick up the pieces with nothing to go off of,” he pleads. “and it’s unhealthy for you to harbor everything that bothers you inside. you could get sick doing that, and it hinders our communication.”

you can tell he is about to give you another lecture, which is what led you here in the first place. you take in a deep breath and try to regulate yourself, glancing down. “yeah, i hear you,” you mutter. “i just get… i don’t know, it feels weird to tell you when something you’ve done bothers me.”

“why, sweetheart?”

“because you’re so good to me,” you frown. “you don’t deserve to hear that i’m upset with you for probably no reason.”

“look at me, honey.” you oblige, locking eyes with his once again shyly. “as good as i am to you and you are to me, getting angry or upset or irritated with one another is normal. it’s healthy. no relationship is free of trials, and if this is our worst problem, i’d confidently say that we are doing quite well.”

you listen to him carefully, taking in his words as you look over his face.

“now, will you tell me what it was i did to upset you earlier?”

“it’s so stupid, ken.”

“your feelings are not stupid. please. i need to know so i don’t repeat my mistakes.”

you huff and eventually give in. “well, sometimes... you do this thing… where you lecture me… and i appreciate you looking out for me all the time, but sometimes when you ask me a hundred things at once about stuff that I’m more than aware of as an adult, it makes me feel like you’re patronizing me.”

a stern look of realization crosses the blonde’s features. “i had no idea.”

“i mean… i never told you, so i was getting upset with you for something you weren’t even aware of,” you exhale. “i’m really sorry, kento. I struggle with communicating certain things, and i shouldn’t have allowed myself to get so irritated in the first place.”

“there’s no need for you to apologize,” he dismisses. “i apologize for making you feel as though I’ve been speaking down to you. i only check in so often because i care.”

“i know,” you lean in. “and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“but i can see how it may be a bit overbearing,” he admits. “i’ll try to mind myself in the future.”

“oh, it’s okay, ken,” you lift your hand to his cheek, smoothing a thumb over his cheekbone. “you’re perfect, baby. i’m sorry if i made you feel otherwise.”

“i am far from perfection, my love,” he kisses your inner palm. “i make plenty of mistakes.”

“so do i, clearly,” you chuckle.

he smiles again, and this time it reaches his warm eyes. “yes, but the way i see it, you would not be perfect without them.”

choso kamo:

choso, bless his heart, has never found anything you do to be even remotely close to what he could find annoying. everything you do in his eyes is perfect, flawless, and he clings to you so much that he finds it impossible to think of your actions or words as something that poses as an aggravation to him.

what he finds irritating is when yuji will borrow his shirts without asking and fail to return them for days, or when he’s been assigned on a mission and it lasts far longer than he intended to be there, the task cutting into time he could be spending with you, or even when other people serve as a nuisance to you. you have never, ever been on the list of things that get on his nerves, and he doesn’t think you ever will be.

that’s why he feels such guilt when he starts to feel that familiar sense of annoyance bubbling in his chest when you keep asking him to let you know about his plans for the weekend.

you’ve asked him numerous times at this point, and he has given you the same answer: he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing with his brother or when he’ll be home, and that he’d let you know as soon as he figures it out. but you know that by the time he ‘figures it out’ it will be past the time you need to plan around his absence.

you’re an organized person, and you like to know in advance what is happening in your boyfriend’s life so that you can either prepare to spend some time with him or not waste the effort looking forward to doing so if he will be out late. this is especially a big deal to you because choso tends to get carried away when spending time with his little brother. the brunette loves his family so dearly, and you have always admired how fiercely he cares for those close to him, but his tendency to just go along with whatever yuji’s hyper mind thinks of on the spot without having the sense to think of how it will impact his brother’s girlfriend yet always gets to you.

you want choso to spend time with his brother, you do, but you just wish that he would have the decency of letting you in on what he plans to do on the days they are together more often.

therefore, it is friday and you continue to ask him to let you know what the plans are, and choso, still not completely understanding of what you want, is growing tired of the nagging.

“i already told you, love,” he reasons as best as he can with you, his voice dipping lower. “i don’t know how long we’ll be out. i promise you i’ll let you know.”

you’re moving about the kitchen while choso stands at the corner, eyes heavy as he watches you. he’s trying his hardest to mask his growing agitation, for he knows that you are very keen on picking up on his tells that reveal his emotions. when he’s aggravated, his brows angle ever so slightly and his lids weigh over bored vision, his lips curled in a frown.

you haven’t looked at him yet. your back is to him as your rummage through your fridge. “yeah, cho, you said that already, and you say that every time you go out,” you close the fridge door, carton of eggs in your hand for you to prepare lunch.

“and i always come back,” he says, shrugging slightly. “I don’t understand what the problem is… i’d never stay out all night without coming back.”

“it’s not about you coming back or not, it’s about when you come back,” you try to explain, placing the eggs on the counter to turn and reaching to grab a bowl. “i’ve definitely talked about this before, right? sometimes i stay up for you or want to hang out with you when you get back, but you never give me an estimated time when you’re with your brother so i can plan around it.”

choso exhales through his nose slowly, looking down. “the point is that if i knew, i’d tell you…”

you look up, catching the dipped pitch in his tone, and tilt your head to the side upon taking in his stature. he’s pouting.

you stop what your doing, pressing your hands to the ledge of the other side of the counter and leaning over with a suspicious look.

“are you alright?” you ask slowly.

choso meets your eye, a hint of a deer in in headlights look capturing him. “yes,” he says stiffly, quickly, and you are not convinced whatsoever.

“you sure? because your face says otherwise,” you nod toward him.

conflict is pretty foreign to the two of you within your relationship. neither of you ever want to upset the other, so in tiptoeing around certain issues, a lot of them are either brushed over and pent up. choso specifically things it’s damn near a sin to be upset with you, and you him, for he still does not understand certain inner workings of human connections.

he does not want to ruin what he has with you, and he does not comprehend why he is growing annoyed with someone he cherishes so much. he still loves you, but he can’t help this feeling. it burdens him with guilt, and he does not know how to respond once you catch him.

“is something bothering you?” you ask carefully. “are you upset because i keep asking about this weekend?”

choso doesn’t respond. he feels like it’s a trap, for he would never lie to you but to admit that he’s annoyed is an entirely different ball park that he is horrified to step into. he looks at you shamefully, face still tense but he’s trying hard to relax, to mask the way he truly feels.

you raise a brow. “…choso?”

“i’m fine,” he tells you. once again, he’s answering far too quickly.

“okay,” you exhale, shifting on your feet. choso watches you anxiously, keeping incredibly still as though moving will make the earth shatter. “I know you really well, cho. clearly the conversation is bothering you.” after another moment of silence from your boyfriend, you continue. “you can be honest with me, or else you’ll just be carrying this around with you all day.”

“…i don’t wanna upset you,” he eventually murmurs.

“I understand, but that’s not realistic,” you say with subtle sternness in your tone. “just like it’s not realistic to pretend like you aren’t upset right now when i can clearly tell you are. we both have rights to feeling whatever we feel, so just… come on, tell me what’s going on.”

with a pensive expression, choso slowly allows himself to give in. “it’s just that…” he begins hesitantly. “i’m not really sure what you want me to tell you anymore. about my plans.”

“i'm not asking anything out of the question, i just want you to plan more for my sake.”

“but i keep repeating myself when i tell you that yuji and i don’t plan… it’s a little…”

“it’s a little what?”

“just… kind of… annoying.”

you reel, staring at choso incredulously. you never thought you would have seen the day where your sweet significant other, horrified of touching you the wrong way, would call you annoying. admittedly, you’re a little wounded. you haven’t done anything wrong, and yet choso is aggravated by your desire to simply know what time he’s coming home. you’re not asking for too much. you hardly believe you’re asking for anything at all. you know that choso can be irrational, but never with you. never like this.

you nod to yourself slowly, pursing your lips. choso eyes you carefully, uncertain of how his own words have landed. you wanted him to be honest, and this is how he’s feeling. should he have just lied? should he have kept it to himself anyway?

suddenly, you resume what you are doing and turn away from choso wordlessly. the violet eyed man’s eyes widen as you go searching for a pan, and air of intensity about you.

“(y/n)?” he says your name cautiously after a while of you shuffling about. “you okay?”

“it’s cool,” you respond shortly, and choso shrinks.

he moves to round the counter to approach you slowly, but you do not slow yourself when you notice him moving into the kitchen beside you. “i don’t think it is…”

“choso, i know how you feel now and that’s that. i’ll leave it be.”

you sound mad. choso doesn’t like it at all, and he’s unsure of how to even speak to you this way. he doesn’t want to further ruin your mood, but he has to make sure you’re alright… that he didn’t cross some sort of line.

“i’m sorry,” he hastily apologizes. “I wasn’t trying to make things worse.”

“don’t apologize for what you feel,” you strictly say, moving to the other side of the kitchen the second choso gets close to you.

he stops, his traces of annoyance having completely washed away. “but you’re mad now.”

“i’m not mad, i just- i’m a little annoyed too now.”

he deflates. “oh,” he mumbles, hands falling to his sides. “then, what do what do now?”

you exhale, taking a moment to pause and turn to face choso from the other side of the space. “i wanna talk about why i’m irritated.”

“okay… and that won’t make it worse?”

“no, because i’ll at least be getting my point across.”

he nods dejectedly. “alright. why are you upset?”

“because you won’t take a second to put yourself in my shoes and understand that planning for my sake now that we live together will help ease my anxiety,” you explain, your hand moving about as you emphasize your stance. “i don’t care how long you and yuji are out. that’s not the point, and i know you don’t plan, but I’m asking you to at least start to, because i get tired of falling asleep waiting for you because i don’t know when you’re coming home. if i knew in advance, i wouldn’t have to stay up or get my hopes up about you coming back at a certain time. and then you tell me that i’m annoying you because i just want to be informed. like, that’s a little rude, choso. it’s basically like you saying you don’t care what i ask for.”

“i do care,” he cuts in passionately, brows knitted with a look of guilted sadness. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know it was like that for you.”

“because you never bothered to ask.”

“i’m sorry,” he says again. “i shouldn’t have called you annoying. that was mean. you just… told me to be honest, so i said what i was thinking.”

“that’s another thing, choso, we’re not perfect. we’re people and we react to things differently. this isn’t the last time we’ll be annoyed with each other.”

“i don’t like that,” he grumbles.

“we don’t have to like it, but that’s just how things are. it doesn’t mean we love each other any less, and we’re not always going to agree on why we’re annoyed with one another.”

“…are we fighting?”

you scoff a slight, tired laugh and shake your head. “no, we’re not fighting. we’re just talking.”

“okay,” he nods. “well, i’m sorry. i am. i’ll try to do better about planning for you. and you’re not annoying, (y/n). i love you.”

you soften. “i love you too, cho, just please be more mindful of how you react sometimes.”

“i will,” he mumbles. “…can i… i mean, is it wrong to ask you for a hug or do you need some time?”

“come over here,” you beckon him over. the brunette is quick to comply, stepping heavily over to you and burying his face in your neck. you wrap your arms around his frame as he holds you, murmuring numerous apologies to you over and over in your ear.

“maybe i’ll just stay home,” he suggests, mumbling into your skin.

“you don’t need to do that, cho, that’s not what i was asking of you.”

“i know, but i’d rather stay in with you anyway. or maybe we can make it a group thing if you want to come with.”

“i’ll see how i feel this weekend, but that’s sounds great, baby. thank you.”

toji fushiguro:

toji has a habit of getting caught up in his stress accumulated from the day. he’ll return home grumpily, muscles twitching and lips tight in a scowl. his back aches and his head hurts, and all he wants to do is crawl up into bed with you and snooze for the rest of the night.

of course, this isn’t always plausible. life presents its daily interferences that throw off his plans of laziness with the woman he loves, and sometimes, the woman he loves herself is the very thing standing in the way of his tranquility.

you don’t do so on purpose. while toji leads his life of chaos and crime, you busy yourself with your own less illegal tasks, and those tasks and your desires by the end of the day don’t always match his. and toji, despite how wholly he loves you, has the unintentional tendency to be selfish, for it’s how he’s lived his whole life before meeting you.

and that tendency especially shines through when his mind is clouded by exhaustion. if he wants you to lay still with him for the rest of the night, why can’t he? why the hell do you have to run out to the store instead? or finish up an assignment that takes an extra hour and a half to complete? or try to talk to him about your day when he just wants peace and quiet in your wordless physical presence?

it ticks him off, and he’s already moody enough before he comes home to realize that he is not going to get what his mind and heart have been set on for hours. he tries his best not to take things out on you when he is in a healthy, normal conscious state, but he can not help it at the worst of times. before he knows it, he’s snapping at you all because you wanted to show him an album of pictures you came across during your visit to your parents today.

“oh!” you gasp excitedly, leaning into toji’s shoulder as you lounge with him on the bed, your phone presenting itself to his face. you’re propped up with your back to the headboard while toji is laid flat against the pillow with a sour expression. “and this one is from halloween when i was eleven! holy shit, look at my braces! damn, they really threw off the whole costume. i still look cute though, don't i?"

toji doesn't know how you haven't noticed his lack of response as you swipe through photo after photo, your voice a blabber of nonsense in his ear as he closes his eyes in vexation. he can feel himself nearing his last straw as you shift your entire conversation enthusiastically, diving into some story about your family that is hardly related to the pictures you have been sharing.

the dark-haired man is so tired, so fed up with noise and the questions you ask him that you do not even wait for him to respond to before you're cutting in and rambling on again - not that toji even would have responded.

he just wants to sleep... you're still going on, and he wants to sleep.

"and then there was the time that i-"

you're interrupted by a loud groan and the run of toji's large hands down his face. you falter, lowering your phone and furrowing your brows at him slightly, your smile dwindling upon finally taking note of toji's body language.

silence stills the room while toji keeps his hands concealing his face and you simply watch him, stunned.

"uh..." you start pensively, confused. "...why did you just-"

"for the love of christ, girl, can you be quiet for one second?" he interjects once more with the tear of his hands away from his face and the strike of his weary, tense eyes into yours.

you jump. "what?" is all you can ask, awed by the way your boyfriend just spoke to you.

"i had a long day, (y/n). the fuck don't you understand about that?"

your face is scrunching in offense now, your body retracting and your energy transitioning into dejected anger. "toji, why the hell are you talking to me like that?"

"cause you've been workin' my last nerve since i got home," he grits out, tense hands swiping the air. you stare at him with wide eyes. "i'm fuckin' tired. i don't wanna come home to you talkin' my ear off about shit i don't care about. just let me sleep, alright?"

you clamp your mouth shut, a lump forming in your throat and a pit swirling in your chest as you take in toji's hurtful words. his face is hard as he awaits a response from you, and you can do nothing but look at him pathetically, completely torn apart by how swiftly he had made you feel as though you are a burden to him.

you had not meant to interfere with his rest time. you thought he was resting by sitting cozily in bed with you. you thought that he would enjoy seeing pictures of you from the past, hearing about old memories that you revive for the sake of his enjoyment. hell, you would have enjoyed it if the roles were reversed and toji was sharing his childhood memories with you after a long day (if of course, his childhood had been a bit more positive).

you understand that you may have misread the situation, but there was no need for toji to be so cruel to you about it. you hate when he gets like this, so rigid and ruthless with his tone and his words that it makes you feel as though he wants nothing to do with you.

you fight the urge to cry, your body tensing as you swallow hard. you tear your eyes from toji's face, the vision alone scarring you as his words seep in. the green-eyed man watches you shut off your phone swiftly and tuck it carelessly into your pocket with a scoff.

he quirks his brow in befuddlement now as you push yourself off the mattress and cooly whisk yourself around the furniture and to the bedroom door. he pushes himself up, for he didn't want you to leave. he just wanted silence.

"where're you goin'?" he asks as though you have no reason to storm off. you halt in the doorway, whipping your head over your shoulder to glare at him with glassy eyes.

"to give you your space," you hissed. "after all, i don't want to 'work your last nerve' any more than i already have."

toji can tell by the glossiness of your gaze and the tremble of your voice that he fucked up. he sighs heavily, swiping a hand over his hair. "i ain't mean it like that-" he tries to defend himself, but you have none of it.

"sure you did, toji. or else you wouldn't have said it," you growl. "it's fine. really. you can be an asshole all by yourself while i'm gone. maybe you'll be able to sleep now that your girlfriend is out of the way."

you leave with a slam to the door, the walls shaking in your wake, and toji stares at the wall harshly. the overwhelming silence now envelopes him, the silence that he had been longing for since you started talking, and now that he has it, it doesn't feel right.

he curses to himself, scratching the back of his head. he shouldn't have snapped at you. all you had been doing was sharing something close to your heart with him, and he completely blew you off. it wasn't as though you were the source of his stress - it was his job, yet he reacted in such a way to make it feel as though you were the problem.

fuck. toji knows he has issues with regulating his anger, but he continues to swear that he will work on leaving you out of it, and yet here he is again, mulling over the after-effects of dragging you into his acidity once more.

he's not even tired anymore. he tries to doze off, but all he can think about is your face and how he hurt you.

when he steps out of his room, he finds that you are nowhere to be found in his apartment. he tries calling you, but you don't pick up. he resorts to texting you, asking where you are. you read the messages, but refuse to answer, ensuring that he knows you're pissed off.

he shakes his head and goes to check your location instead, which he is grateful to find that you haven't shut off. he knows you too well. you want him to chase after you and apologize, to put forth the effort that you at times feel he would not extend for your sake.

toji finds you at a bar around the corner, your chin propped in your hand as you stare ahead over the counter emptily with an untouched drink before you. you're slumped in your seat with your phone tucked under your hand, appearing so sad before him, and toji feels his heart ache knowing that he's the reason you look like this.

"go away," you grumble when you see his bulky figure approaching you out of the corner of your eye, not even bothering to look his way. the fushiguro leans his forearm against the counter beside you with his other hand propped on his hip. he tilts his head down to try to catch a glimpse of your face, and you simply turn away stubbornly.

"c'mon doll," he attempts to coax. "don't be mad."

"don't fucking tell me not to be mad, you dick."

toji drops his head. bad start. "listen," he begins, unsure of how to proceed. he has never been good with finding words in these situations. "i shouldn't've said what i said."

you turn to scour at him. "no shit."

he wants to chuckle at how angry you are, for you start cursing up a storm the way toji does on a daily basis, and he finds it rather endearing how quick you are to violate him with your language when he gets on your bad side.

toji doesn't realize that the skin beneath his eyes is creasing a the corner of his lip is tugging upward, for you're gaping at him and smacking his chest rather aggressively. "you think this is funny?"

"no, (y/n), i don't think it's funny," he chuckles, and you fume. you go to slam a few bills onto the table before jumping up from your stool and storming away. toji panics, reaching out and snatching up your arm in his grasp. you're tugged back to him against your wishes, fiery (e/c) hues seething into him as though you seek to kill him with your gaze. "stop, i'm tryna talk to you for a second."

"clearly you think my feelings are a joke to you, toji."

"i don't think that, doll, you know that."

"do i?" you raise your brows. "i wasn't so sure when you talked to me like i was nothing but a nuisance to you."

you go to tug away, but toji holds you to him, looking into your eye intensely. "you ain't a nuisance."

"then why talk to me like that?" you frown. "i wasn't even doing anything to hurt you, i was just trying to share something with you."

"i know baby," he softens, hand coming to cup over your neck. you turn away, leading him to smooth his hand over the back of your head instead as you look off to the side bitterly. "it wasn't you, it was my day-"

"i don't care," you huff. "you can't blame the way you treat people on shitty days - especially the way you treat me! i'm the person in this world who loves you, toji. if you need me to reel in on something, then just say that respectfully, but don't you dare go yelling at me the way you just did. it hurts my feelings."

toji sighs, looking over your face and caressing your hair. "i know, doll, m'sorry," he mumbles. "shouldn't be taking my shit out on you. you ain't ever done a single thing bad to me."

"yeah, you prick," you bite, and toji lets himself smile. "and stop smiling," you push against his chest. "nothing's fucking funny."

"you're right. nothin's funny at all," he agrees. "m'just happy i got a girl who knows how to fight back when i'm bein' an asshole."

"oh, what the fuck ever," you roll your eyes. "you're lucky i don't chop your balls off and hang them on display in the living room."

"nah, i much prefer you gettin' mean with me." he moves to cup your neck again, and this time you allow him, a pretty pout still on your face. "i deserve it."

"you sure as hell do..."

he chuckles, smirk spreading. "c'mere, doll," he pulls you into him, securing his arms around your frame and pressing you to his chest. you ease into him reluctantly, glowering off to the side as your check squishes into his pectoral. you don't hug back, for toji's biceps crush over you and trap your arms within his embrace as he rocks you slowly. "what can i do to make up for it?"

"go jump off a bridge," you mutter, body relaxing into his warmth as his chest rumbles with laughter against you.

ryomen sukuna:

sukuna belittling you with his words has never been anything new to you. while you understand that you withhold a space of softness in his heart that is reserved for you and you only, at times his comfortability with insulting you can go a bit far.

and of course, you’re used to it. he calls you “brat” and “woman” as though you are a nuisance to him when in reality, you are the only person on this planet he has bestowed those names upon with his own definition of affection. he clicks his teeth and rolls his eyes at you when you talk about something that he wants you to believe is of little interest to him, when he is taking mental note of the things you enjoy talking about so that he can suffocate you with your desires long after you have presented a specific like to his attention. and of course, he tells you you are an aggravation to his soul every damn two seconds, as though loving you brings him stress after eons of having lived so freely and ruthlessly - though he still does, your presence does more to ease him into a state of mellowness than anything has prior to his commitment to you.

he very clearly welcomes the feeling and connection to you, but masks so by calling you annoying. all the time. so of course, when he does normally, you are completely desensitized to it.

unless you’re already irritated.

occasionally, there is only so much of sukuna you can handle. you love him to death, but the two of you butt heads so often due to your stubborn natures and unwillingness to allow the other to win that it tends to wear you down after a while. sukuna calls you disrespectful for even talking back, yet allows you to continue to do so as if he gets off on the way you get snippy with him.

it’s entertaining to the lord, after all. why would he spend his time doting on someone boring?

nevertheless, if you’ve had a long day and are in no mood to deal with sukuna’s rather wide range of complex reactions to even the smallest of things that you do, his habits tick you off - especially so when he calls you annoying for something that you feel is anything but.

so as you complain to sukuna about how he needs to be mindful of how many sheets he’s running through by staining them with blood when he carelessly returns to your shared bedroom from yet another colorful expedition, you're peeved by the way he stares at you so carelessly. you’ve been begging him forever to be more mindful of how he treats his belongings, especially now that you share the same things, but he always brushes your concerns aside by saying that he can just get more. but god forbid someone else were to stain his sheets, then he’d be out for blood.

his arms are crossed as he stands before you, eyes rolling over the ceiling as he makes his agitation rather evident. you’re a little thing in comparison to him, yammering on about the tenth set of sheets he has stained this month, but he wants to hear none of it. why is it such a big deal to you anyway? he has thousands of servants and limitless access to resources, so it shouldn’t matter to you whatsoever. besides, you’ve stained numerous sheets of his over the years with your arousal and he’s never complained. why does it all of a sudden hold importance to you what state his belongings are in now?

“would you quit your moaning, woman?” he snarls, overpowering voice speaking over you. his eyes are hard and slim as they stare over you, and you’re bubbling with rage the moment he cuts into what you’re saying. “it is not of relevance to me, so why is it of any relevance to you?”

“because it is, sukuna! why do you only hold value to the things you care about? we share a bed, obviously i’m affected by this too!” you argue.

“you are not a servant. servants concern themselves over such things.”

“oh, so now i’m beneath you for talking about this?”

sukuna groans. “i did not say that, brat.”

“yeah, but you insinuated it!” you retort. “i’m tired, sukuna, i wasn’t trying to make this a big thing.”

“yet you are attempting to by persisting so irritatingly.”

you throw your hands up, at your wit’s end. why does he never listen to you when there is something on your mind? why does he always push aside what you feel matters when he decides it doesn’t matter to him? why is he always so cold with you, so steely and headstrong as though he remains above you like you haven’t been by his side all this time?

you know how sukuna is, and yet him calling your opinions irritating riles you up in this moment. everything has to turn into an argument, and it weighs you down. nothing can ever run smoothly without sukuna taking offense or scoffing at the idea of you coming to him with something you feel should be fixed. you can’t win.

"seriously?" you plead. "i mean, really, i'm irritating because i don't want to sleep in blood every night?"

"christ, you don't sleep in blood. the sheets are changed before you come to rest!" he barks. "that is why i find this so annoying. you are complaining for nothing."

"you know what? you're annoying!" you point a finger to his broad chest. the king of curses lifts a brow, looking down at where your finger prods into him.

"i beg your pardon?" an amused, low chuckle ripples through him as though the sentiment is unheard of, which only pisses you off even more.

"you heard me. you're the fucking annoying one. you're always going on about how i shouldn't talk back, or how everything i feel doesn't make sense, or how the things i want don't matter because you don't want them! you act like you're so far above me, when i'm the only one sleeping in bed with you, sitting on your throne, supporting your psycho-ass ambitions - but i'm the irritating one, right? your girlfriend is such a pain in the ass, isn't she? for caring about your wellbeing and loving you when nobody else will?"

the salmon-haired king's eyes go dull as you shout at him, fury raging in your eyes as you continue to poke at him. you're playing with fire, but you don't care. you're fed up with the pretending, with the sly comments about your intelligence as a human being and the value of your interests.

"woman-"

"shut up! i'm not done."

oh. you've really lost it now, haven't you?

normally, sukuna would have made it a point to silence you and teach you a lesson by now, but for some reason, he's feeling generous. slightly intrigued by your outburst, he lets you go on with a domineering smirk.

"i don't care of you're the king of curses, or if you could kill me with the snap of your fingers, or if you've got thousands of people who bow down to you without a second thought like mindless sheep-"

"you are not those people."

"exactly!" you agree without thinking, and sukuna's smirk brightens. "i'm not! so stop- stop treating me like i am! stop talking to me like i'm unimportant and like i get on your nerves more than i do anything good for you! stop blowing me off because you don't know how to empathize! i'm your girlfriend. i care about you, and i also care about the state of your things which you always make a point to say are mine too- and fucking sue me if i'm tired of walking into your room after a long day to see blood stains from random ass civilians while your servants work to replace them in the next hour! what if i wanna lay down before then, huh? ever thought about that?

"god, i just wish you'd care! is that so hard for you to do, sukuna? to care about me and what i care about? i didn't wanna argue with you, but you make it so damn hard for me not to lose my mind! you never hear me talk about how much you drive me crazy, and you drive me crazy every damn day of the week!"

"is that so?" he pries, slyly.

"yes!"

"i implore you, tell me more about how i drive you crazy."

"have you not been listening to anything i've-?!" you freeze, reconnecting with the moment to look in sukuna's eye and see how he is enjoying listening to your rant. you stop, stepping back and lifting your finger from his chest. you breathe in and out deeply, worked up by your own emotion, and you finally take a second to realize what you have been doing. "you're mocking me," you conclude.

"i am doing no such thing."

you scoff. "whatever, sukuna. just forget it. sorry i'm so irritating to you."

you go to walk off, but sukuna is already wrapping a set of arms around you, tugging you back to his chest. you grit your teeth, peering up over your shoulder to look back and find the demon grinning down at you teasingly.

"you need to relax," he muses.

"don't fucking tell me to relax, sukuna, i'm already pissed off."

"mm. i can see that, and in feeling so you have forgotten who you are speaking to."

"see, this is what i'm talking about! i'm not your servant-"

"yes, yes, i know. it was hard not to catch what you were saying during your little tantrum."

"fuck you," you groan, moving to push away. sukuna tightens his grip, winding his arms securely over your stomach and pressing you to his chest. "sukuna," you whine.

"stop taking everything so personally," he ducks down to speak into your ear over your left shoulder. you jerk, turning your head in the direction of his voice. "you are fully aware that you are not the same as everybody else. if you were, you would not be so mouthy."

"yeah, well it's hard to tell what you think sometimes when you call me annoying all the damn time. if you want me to leave you alone, just say that and i can stop wasting my time."

"enoughhh," he hisses. "you must stop taking things so far."

"and you must stop being so mean," you mimic his speech.

sukuna snorts. "do not worry about the sheets. i will retreat elsewhere after massacres if it while cease your whining."

"oh, how lucky i am," you click your teeth.

"quite so," he turns in to press his lips to the space under your jaw. "if you were anyone else-"

"i'd be dead," you finish, involuntarily leaning into him though your face is still tense. "no one else should be in your bed anyway, you know."

"that is why no one ever will."

[manmuncher777]

Drunkly telling BSF!Geto you need him….

Bsf!Geto Who was waiting on your call for him to pick you up, he offered to be your driver so you could have a nice night out drinking with friends and still get home nice and safe. He wanted to make sure no creepy guys were trying to get you in their car (especially when you looked that good)

Bsf!Geto who was trying to hide his erection when you showed off your outfit of the night, fuck you looked good.

Bsf!Geto Who is confused and slightly worried when he sees you calling his phone only 2 hours since you’ve been out. He picks up almost instantly

“Y/n are you okay?”

“Suguruuuuu.” Your excited voice rings out, he can tell your already drunk by how much your slurring. He can hear you holding in giggle

“what’s wrong sweets, do I need to come and get you?” He’s speaking slow and clear so you can understand him in your state, his chest feels a bit lighter by the fact you don’t sound in imminent danger, just drunk

“…” a beat passes, he can hear your light breathing over the phone, it sounded like you were stood outside of whatever bar you were at

“I need you” Three words you finally spoke, suddenly sounding more sober than a few seconds ago.

“Need me to what? are you safe.” Suguru’s gripping his phone a lot tighter now, his heart skipping a beat when he heard those words. No, you couldn’t have meant it like that… could you? that little whine that left you after you spoke…

“Suguru I fucking need you.” Oh. You meant it like that.

Suguru was sure now. Like you were begging for him over the phone, he has to take a deep breath to centre himself. You were drunk- you couldnt mean it. But god you sounded so sweet and desperate over the phone. Suguru’s heart was pounding in his chest

“sweets I…”

“I need you so fucking bad, I feel like I cant even function, I feel insane.” You didn’t feel as drunk anymore, suddenly admitting your feelings brought you back. You didn’t even know what you meant tot say when suguru answered the phone, you just needed to hear his voice.

“…” He’s speechless, this sudden confession. He was excited and nervous and confused and and- god he didnt even know what he was feeling right now. All he knew was that breathy voice over the speaker was sending him insane

“all I can think about is you, I thought drinking would help, but its worse… Sugu I need you to fuck me so bad.” Fucking hell

“Darling..” He almost choked now. Squeezing his eyes shut, trying desperately to get a grip.

“please- I need to feel you, I need to kiss you. I need you to ruin me.” You didnt care how you sounded at all, you were desperate, you were willing to beg

“I’m on my way.”

Bsf!Geto Who is speeding over to the location you sent him, jaw clenched, heavy breathing. Raging boner that was making it hard for him to concentrate.

Bsf!Geto who hops out of his car, opening the door for you as you step in, you look so shy now that hes actually there. Then he’s speeding you both back to his place. He’s not talking much, but his eyes keep flickering over your exposed figure. God you looked good, it was making it so much harder for him to try and be a gentleman

Bsf!Geto who didnt know whether to politely turn you down, you were best friends and you were drunk, maybe it wasn’t a good idea. But the other part of him wanted to give you exactly what you wanted, to throw you around, fucking you to tears. God he wanted to fuck you so bad, and if you were begging him, wasn’t it mean of him to turn you down?

Bsf!Geto who went with the second option as soon as he got you into his house. He couldn’t hold back as you stood there awkwardly, blushing and apologising if you made him uncomfortable.

Bsf!Geto who had you forgetting about that, throwing you down on his bed and going to town

Bsf!Geto who was eating you out like a man starved, so fucking filthy and feral. Slurping and sucking at your slit so eagerly. The sound of your desperate cry’s were music to his ears.

Bsf!Geto Who was groaning into your pussy each time you tugged on his hair. You tasted better than he ever could’ve imagined. He couldn’t believe how wet you already were for him, you were soaked, and Suguru didn’t want to waste a drop

Bsf!Geto who was flipping you over after you came on his face, he couldn’t hold back after hearing you moan for him so sweetly

“Sugu- oh my god”

“shit baby, love the sound of my name when you moan it like that.”

Bsf!Geto who was hitting it from the back, going fucking crazy watching your ass ripple with each thrust. Your face pushed into the mattress with your back arched so pretty for him. You were screaming into the mattress with how good it felt, unable to stop the tears of pleasure falling. His pace was anything but slow, sure he had imagined what fucking you would be like, but he never expected you to feel this good. So tight around him, so fucking wet.

His cock felt fucking heavenly inside you, you had never felt so full before. Hitting that spot every fucking thrust, he was brutal with it, exactly what you were craving.

Bsf!Geto who needs to hear you, gripping your hair and pulling your face up from the mattress. Relishing in the screams of his name. Your noises were better than anything he ever could’ve imagined.

Bsf!Geto Who had you cumming on his cock multiple times that night

“Yeah good fucking girl- you jus’ needed some dick huh?” “This what you needed baby?” “That’s it sweetheart, let it all out for me.” “Feels good yeah? go on cry baby, I got you.” “Looked way too fucking beautiful tonight” “shit this pussy so good, I should’ve done this months ago.”

Bsf!Geto who was the first ever man to make you squirt. You coating his torso in you juices, fuck it was the best thing he’d ever seen. The noises of your broken moans sending him over the edge. He came so deep in you that night, watching in awe when it leaked out of you

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Dating in a Dream - Rook Hunt

SUMMARY: What would his dream be like, exactly the same as in the original story, but with the small detail that he is dreaming that you two are dating?

CHARACTERS: Rook Hunt x Reader 🏹🦐

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; In a Relationship (kinda)

WARNING: Spoilers from Book 7 and Rook’s dream (Eng Server)

WORD COUNT: 2.270 words

COMMENTS: This was written as a companion piece to the original dream story, so the parts that are the same as the game are just summarized.

I hope you enjoy 🏹

Dating in a Dream: Idia / Epel / (Rook) / Vil / Kalim / Jamil /...

“Aether signal tracking successful.” Ortho says when you land in the new dream, along with Grim, Silver, Sebek and Epel. “We have arrived at the designated coordinates.”

After Silver checks if Epel is feeling okay after the trip from one dream to another, you all realize that you are in the Savanaclaw dorm. Which makes you wonder if you are in a Savanaclaw student's dream.

“AH! Mon amour!” You hear a familiar voice say.

You look and see Rook already by your side. One of his hands holds your waist to bring you closer to him, while the other holds your hand to kiss the back of it. But that wasn't the Rook you knew, he was wearing the Savanaclaw uniform, had freckles and messy hair tied in a ponytail under what looked like a cowboy style hat. You see the dreamer's bird flying over him.

“Any vision of you is a merveilleuse one! To what do I owe your and your friends' visit today?”

“ROOK?!” Epel says in disbelief, but then focuses on something else. “Wait... Doesn't ‘mon amour’ mean ‘my love’?”

“I have a bad and cringy feeling about this.” Idia's voice comments through the tablet.

“You're Epel Felmier, a Pomefiore freshman, I believe?” Rook says without taking his hands off you. “And you're in the Spelldrive Club, if I recall... Are you here to visit our housewarden Leona?”

“Can’t you have a conversation without clingin’ to my hench-human?” Grim complains and jumps into your arms to separate Rook from you.

“Hehehehe. I see I haven't been approved by you yet, Grim.” Rook says amusedly. “Very well, it seems that the journey to prove myself to you and have your blessing continues. Until then, a forbidden love this shall be. He he. Comme c'est excitant!”

“LO- Ugh! Why're you in Savanaclaw Dorm uniform anyway?!” Grim asks. “Your hair's all scraggly, and you've got stray leaves on your clothes... Vil would throw a fit if he saw you like that!”

“Vil?” Rook asks in astonishment. “You mean Vil Schoenheit, the actor?”

You all discover that, in this dream of Rook's, Vil does not study at Night Raven College, but instead at Royal Sword Academy. And he and Neige are like best friends. Rook, extremely excited, starts telling a lot of things about Vil and Neige to the point of quoting an interview with the two of them in full. Until he suddenly says something much louder than usual.

“Would you stop yelling?” Sebek says. “You startled me!”

“Oh, pardon me. I got rather carried away there... I just have so few people in Savanaclaw I can discuss Vil, Neige, and film in general with. Which also makes it a blessing to have someone like (Y/N) by my side.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“Oh mon cher, you are as big a fan of Vil and Neige as I am. No one can match my adoration like you.”

“Thank you, Rook Hunt, this was fascinating.” Ortho says. “I'd actually like to learn more about them...”

“Truly?! Why, I would be delighted!”

The others show their discontent to Ortho, but he explains that the more they understand the differences between this dream world and the real one, the easier it will be for them to find a way to wake Rook.

Excited to tell them more about Vil and Neige, Rook suddenly runs into the Savanaclaw building. You and the others run after him because you can't get too far away from the dreamer. You run to the closed door of his room where you hear a commotion inside.

“How is it taking so long to fetch one magazine?” Sebek questions.

“D-don't worry, I'll be right out!” Rook responds trying to hide his concern. “Don't open that door, whatever you do!”

“Mrr! I'm hearin' weird noises comin' from inside.” Grim says.

“Apologies for the wait! I found more things I positively need to show you... Whoa!”

Fearing that Rook might be under attack by the darkness and ignoring his pleas for them not to enter, they break down the door and enter Rook's room. To find a room completely filled with Neige merch on one half of the room and Vil merch on the other half.

Rook laughs in a strange, almost threatening way and says that since they had seen his room they could no longer leave... without joining him in reverently watching DVDs of his favorite actors! So he forces everyone to sit with him to do it. And of course he makes you sit right next to him.

He made you all watch those DVDs for FIVE HOURS!

“The fact that they played arch-enemies just made those final smiles so... so... beauté!”

“Mrah... After marathoning all those movies and stage plays, I'm exhausted.” Grim says in a sigh.

Ortho thanks Rook for all that information and says that it is already very late and that everyone should go back to their respective dorms and get some sleep. Before they leave, Epel asks Rook about the SDC and he replies that Vil and Neige sang together and he just watched.

“We can have another watch party whenever you like. Perhaps we can put that show on next time. Bon nuit, everyone!”

As you all left Rook’s room one by one, you stayed behind to be the last to leave. Maybe you even did it on purpose to see if Rook would do something. And he did.

As soon as Epel leaves and you are about to leave next, Rook suddenly appears in front of you to casually close the door behind Epel.

“I wonder what I did wrong to receive such cold treatment from you, mon cher.” He tells you with a theatrically brokenhearted look. “I understand not getting a bisou de bonjour with so many people around you. But not even a small, discreet bisou d'adieu?”

He gets closer to you and caresses your cheek, looking you sadly in the eyes. Seeing that you don't back away from his touch, he continues.

“Oh, where did I go wrong? What mistake could I have made to receive such a cruel sentence as deprivation of your touch? Is it my bail conquer your love all over again?” He brings his face closer to yours with a seductive smile, and he sees that you don't move away, quite the opposite. “Or should I continue to claim innocence?”

“(Y/N)!” Grim shouts from the other side of the door. “What are you still doing in there?”

“Did something happen?” Silver asked.

“Stop wasting time human!” Sebek complains. “We all must go for now.”

Rook moves away from you.

“Ah... My diligent jailers. You must go with them so that their worries will cease. But I see that you are in good and capable hands.” He takes one of your hands and kisses the back of it before opening the door for you like a gentleman.

And if you thought about taking advantage of that moment to kiss him, you realized that he seemed to be... enjoying his... “punishment”. So you decided to save that possible kiss for later.

Outside Savanaclaw's dorm it was already night and you and the others talked about Rook's dream and how you could wake him up. Epel has the idea of recreating SDC's performance because it was the crucial moment that the darkness was trying to make him forget. Make him remember that Vil actually despises Neige to the point of doing what he did and Rook's betrayal. You, Epel and Grim taught Silver, Sebek and Ortho the dance steps of the choreography of Absolutely Beautiful so you could take the places of the remaining members of the original group.

The next day, you were the one tasked with getting Rook to go to the Coliseum. You sent him a message to meet you in front of it.

The time you had set was approaching, but you couldn't see Rook. He must have been getting ready to surprise you. You looked around as if you really believed you would be able to see him in time. Suddenly you feel a kiss on your cheek. You look, but you don't see anyone. You look back to the other side where he is right there next to you with a smile.

“Greetings and bonjour, mon cher. I'm here as you requested. What can I do for you?”

“I’d like to show you something.” you say.

“Show me something?” Rook smiles. “Coming from you, I wonder with excitement what that might be.”

You take him inside the Coliseum so he can see the replica of the SDC stage up close. You go up on stage to dance with the others and Rook starts to get emotional because a part of him starts to remember that day. The dream begins to distort as if Rook were to wake up, but at that moment two darkness figures appear: Vil and Neige, both in RSA uniforms.

As if it were a real performance, the two of them take the stage after your group and start singing together, which moves Rook again, but in a way that makes him go back into his dream world.

Epel is angered by this and gives Rook a speech about what really happened that day and who they both know Vil really is. His Roi du Poison, their queen is way, way, WAY more poisonous and beautiful! And if he really believes that cheap copy comes even close to the real Vil, and he choosing him over the real one, that makes him more of a traitor right now that he was when he cast that vote for Royal Sword Academy!

And this is what makes the dreams shatter and Rook wake up.

Darkness Vil and Neige try to convince him to back down and accept singing with them, but Rook responds by preparing his bow and pointing an arrow in the direction of the two fake figures. Darkness Vil stands in front of Darkness Neige to protect him.

“What noble friendship you share...” Rook says with tears in his eyes. “And yet that very harmony is proof of my terrible betrayal!”

Rook and the others fight the fake figures and make them melt into darkness.

“Oh, dear pommette! To think I would be woken from my slumber by one bearing a poison that can put anyone to sleep.” Rook hugs Epel so tightly that he gasps for air. “Apologies...” he sobs “Oh, pommette, I can only beg you to forgive my betrayal.”

Epel tells him that he doesn't need to cry, but when he offers him a handkerchief, he realizes that he doesn't have one with him and the two comment on how Vil was right in telling him to carry one. The others talk about their own struggles in their respective dreams so that Rook knows that he wasn't the only one who forgot important things, that this was how those dreams worked to trap them.

“Merci! Oh, merci beaucoup! I cannot thank all of you enough. But there is one of you to whom I owe more than thanks, I owe an apology.” He walks up to you with an embarrassed and regretful face, and he kneels in front of you. “(Y/N), I'm so sorry for causing you so much discomfort. I never hid my love for you, so this part shouldn't have come as a surprise to you, but I can only hope that my behavior has not crossed any boundaries of yours. Please, forgive my shameless audacity. Whatever I can do to be worthy of your forgiveness, please tell me. I will do anything to redeem myself and have a fraction of your trust again.”

He was being so dramatic and still had tears in his eyes that it looked like he was trying to save himself from a death sentence for a horrible and unforgivable offense. The thing is... you like him too... and this was your chance to reciprocate the feeling.

Luckily for you, a simple, almost imperceptible smile from the corner of your mouth is enough for Rook to understand everything.

“Unless...” He stands up and looks you in the eyes with a smirk. “In truth, you enjoyed the experience of having me as your lover.”

You don't need to say anything. Your smile, whatever kind it is, is more than enough for him to understand perfectly. He holds one of your hands. That's how he saw, from the glove he was wearing, that he was still wearing Savanaclaw's uniform.

“In that case,” In the snap of a finger, Rook was back in his Pomefiore uniform and signature bob-cut. “Should we make it real?” he kisses the back of your hand. “Would you be so generous as to make my dream come true, my dear trickster?”

If you try to kiss him, he will stop you with a finger on your lips.

“Non, not yet.” he says despite the pity in his voice. The finger that interrupted your kiss slides to caress your cheek. “As much as I long to discover the wonderful feeling of your lips on mine, this must be something to be discovered in reality, not in a dream. I will wait impatiently for that moment. But sometimes it is this agony of waiting that makes everything so much more special... and intense.”

“ARE YOU DONE OR NOT?!” Grim complained. “Hurry up, we have another dream to go to!”

.

When you return to the real world, no matter what the state of Twisted Wonderland, Rook will find a way to lure you to a secluded place to finally taste your kiss.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[3liza]

after meaning to get around to it for years i finally listened to almost the entirety of Sold a Story and it is as groundbreaking as everyone says it is. it's also the most confusing, to me, single event in American culture in my lifetime and my reasons for thinking that are pretty complex so im not sure theyre fully formed yet. there's a list of shit in this podcast that made me feel like i was going insane

i KNEW something was going on at a population level, i've been noticing it for years, people kept telling me i was imagining things, but i was RIGHT, two generations of kids have been reduced to barely-literate levels of language function because of this shit and you CAN see it and hear it while talking to people in the world!

the entire adoption of the Calkins programs in the first place were based on the majority of people responsible for American child education deciding basically overnight that "children don't need to learn phonics in order to become strong readers" which is literally and not figuratively equivalent to saying "children can learn algebra without learning what numbers are". it is so self-evidently false i dont even know how to respond to such an assertion. you have to be fundamentally devoid of common sense to think this is true. language is comprised of sounds (phonemes), sounds are represented by letters, letters make up the alphabet, the alphabet makes up words, and words make up sentences. you cant just skip over the parts of this you dont like, it's the basis of our entire civilization. "i dont need to learn individual notes i just want to play to saxophone" okay well. too bad? you cant

american primary education apparently has no communication whatsoever with the scientific fields of human behaviorism, pediatrics, neurology, linguistics, the science of learning generally, and there is next to zero communication between teachers who are actively responsible for educating children and the entire research field of educating children. they just dont talk to each other, at least in huge swaths of the country. in retrospect this is obvious, i just have been assuming incorrectly this entire time that maybe, surely, some aspect of how our public schools are administered is in some way being guided by scientific evidence and research. this has apparently not been the case for 20+ years. Lucy Calkins herself claims she "didn't know" that the research on how children acquire language had been essentially settled by the 1990s, she just wrote her stupid book based on her own self-assurance that what she THOUGHT children were doing when they learned language was correct. she ddin't check, she didnt ask about research or studies, she didn't test her hypothesis, she just told everyone she had figured out how to teach kids to read based on nothing but her own untested assumptions. and everyone was like "okay sounds good". every single person involved in this process is or was in a position of responsibility for educating american children. and almost none of them thought to ask "okay, but have you tested it? does it work?" because they didn't test it, and it doesnt work, and for some reason that was never even brought up

teachers kept being interviewed on this podcast who kept saying things like: "they never taught us how to teach children to read" and "they didn't teach us how children learn so i had no idea how it worked" and then explaining this was why they were so easily hoodwinked by the Calkins program. i don't understand this. what is actually taught during the two year degree programs at teaching colleges? if it's not child psychology, pedagogy, neurology, and actual techniques for teaching children, what are they teaching you to do there? one of my friends who went to a teaching college told me they mostly provided classes on lesson planning.

individual teachers apparently are not reading books or articles or papers on any of these subjects either. so having graduated from a teaching college knowing nothing about children, teaching, or even basic english literacy ("i didn't know how to teach phonics and no one told me" is another thing actual teachers kept saying on the podcast. girl, SESAME STREET can teach basic english phonics, and it does), almost none of them actually do any investigation on their own. they just show up to their workplace (the school) and "teach" whatever admin hands them. ?????????????? how is this possible?

i realized last night in a fugue of post-exertional malaise that the three-cueing method of teaching reading is training children to approach language very similarly to how a large language model does it. they laboriously instruct the children to guess what the next word in a sentence will be, often by actually covering the word with a post-it note and then cajoling and badgering the child until he guesses the word under the post-it, based on the vibes on the sentence he's reading. this doesnt teach you to read, it teaches you to act like youre reading

this isnt directly addressed in the podcast but we used to just teach everyone english like it was an actual system that has parts and rules and structures, because that's what a language is. everyone would start with phonics and the alphabet, then later do stuff like sentence diagramming and grammar, neither of which have been taught in primary schools in decades. i think i was probably the very last generation of kids to get ANY of that stuff unless they went to an exceptional school, and it was only because my 8th grade teacher knew it was important and went against school admin's instructions in order to teach it. the couple days of sentence diagramming and grammar he gave us, out of SPITE, have been more useful to me in reading and writing than the entire rest of primary english education i received in public school, and i didn't even go to a school that had adopted three-cueing stuff yet.

[snail-day]

You got this, Nerdjo!

Part One // Next Part // Masterlist

Gojo Satoru was not stalking you. He just happened to be standing in the board games aisle of the popular bookstore near campus. At the same time you were. For the third time this week. Total coincidence. Really. He was just hear for an expansion pack. For Dice. Okay maybe he is here for you. He's been thinking about you since the moment he saw you checking out the Gundam section last week. Really. He wanted to give you his opinion but...he didn't want to seem like a total dick. A mansplainer of sorts.

Oh god, there you are again. Picking up a game. Oh you look so focused. So beautiful. So smart. Wait, is that - oh no. Not that one.

You were reaching for a notoriously convoluted board game, one even Redditors have many complaints about, and before he could stop himself, his feet were moving. Mouth was moving. Everything was moving except his common sense.

Okay, Satoru. Tap the shoulder. Speak. Be your usual charming self. It's just a girl. A very pretty girl. Say something. Be normal.

He tapped your shoulder. Lightly. You turned to look at him with the kind of expression one might give to a stranger who had absolutely no business tapping them in a bookstore. Which, honestly, he didn't have the business to do. Then cleared his throat - loudly, awkwardly - and blurted out:

"Ireallydontthinkyoushouldpickupthatgametherulesaredifficultactuallytherulesdon'tevenmakesenseImeanwhoevencameupwiththem - "

Oh my god. Oh my god. Did I just say that out loud? What did I just say?

First, your brows knit together slowly as you blinked, turning towards him with a touch of confusion and offense on your face.

“You don’t think I can understand… the rules?”

Shitshitshit

His heart dropped straight to his ass.

Going to throw up. Going to throw up. Going to throw up.

How am I fumbling this bad?

He could practically see the social bar above his head draining to zero. As your very pretty, bright eyes stared up at him. He wondered just where did you get those eyes from? His future mother-in-law or father-in-law? Wait no don't be fucking weird.

“No, oh god no! I didn’t mean - uh, that’s not - I think you could totally get it! I mean, you probably solve logic puzzles for fun! You look like you’re really good at thinking! Wait, not that you look like a nerd, but - uh - like, in a hot way - shit, no, I mean - "

End me. Just smite me down right here between Settlers of Catan and Uno.

Waving his hands now, panicking in real time. You, somehow composed, just turned the game box over and calmly read the back, letting him spiral like a dying Beyblade.

“I just meant - it’s a bad game,” he added weakly. “Like, the win condition is unclear and the rulebook has typos and there’s no official errata - it's just, um… bad design.”

You finally looked back up at him. “So what game would you recommend?”

For a second, Gojo just stood there.

You're still talking to me. Oh god. Oh no. You, beautiful and stunning, want my opinion. My professional opinion. I can’t screw this up

“S-Splendor,” Satoru blurted, voice cracking at the edges. “Or maybe Wingspan? No wait. Cascadia? Or - do you like deck-building mechanics? I could make a whole list. I actually have a spreadsheet. A whole reddit. ”

You absolute loser.

But you were… smiling. Just a little. And nodding like you were genuinely interested.

Gojo, poor nerd Gojo, practically short-circuited on the spot.

You ended up leaving the store with a board game you didn’t plan on buying. Not because of the game, really. But because the tall, twitchy, white-haired guy with far too much enthusiasm had somehow roped you into a monologue about probability mechanics, game balance, and “that one time my friend Nanami rage quit a co-op dungeon crawl.”

He was… weird. But kind of charming. In a feral raccoon digging through your trash for affection kind of way.

“So, uh,” he said, hovering beside you outside the store, practically bouncing on his heels, “if you ever want to, y’know, play a game or something - like, totally casually, not like, a date, unless you want it to be, which - no pressure - uh - I just thought maybe you’d be into - um…”

He trailed off. Heart thundering. Couldn't even ask Reddit for Advice You stared. He swallowed. Blinking rapidly, those pretty-blues darted anywhere but you.

“…I run a D&D campaign,” Satoru said suddenly. “Every Friday night. Very low-commitment! Very chill! High-level story arcs. I made all the NPCs. I do voices. I - it’s cool. I swear.”

What are you doing what are you DOING you weren’t supposed to tell them about the campaign yet they’ll think you’re weird this is why you don’t have a girlfriend Satoru you idiot -

But you smiled. Then handed him your phone - little charm dangling off the case. Something cute. You probably picked out without a second thought. God, he’d kill to have matching phone charms with you.

“…Add your number,” you said. “Text me the details.”

He blinked at the phone, questioning how he is worthy enough to text you. Then promptly fumbled it, typed his name with three emojis, deleted them, re-added one, panicked, backspaced everything, and tried again.

You mentioned you had class.

Right. You're busy. That's fine. Yes. He has your number. Oh god why is his heart pounding so loud. Can you hear it? Could you feel it when his hand brushed against yours?

Satoru nodded too fast. Rushed words as you trailed away with a wave. He was left there wondering what your major was. Who you knew. If you'd actually show up next Friday. If he’d just imagined all of this.

When he finally texted you later, it read:

Hey it’s Gojo from the bookstore 🧠 I asked my party and there’s a spot open in the campaign 👀 you’d be perfect. Unless you hate fun. Then we can just play Wingspan lol anyway let me know!! pls 🥺

And before you could even respond, another message came in.

also pls ignore any typos i'm at the gym 💪getting ready for all those monsters we're going to be slayin ⚔️

Friday night. Gojo’s apartment. He had cleaned. Like, deep cleaned. Scrubbed corners no one would ever look at. Decorated the bathroom. Lit a candle that smelled like vanilla and cedar. (He may or may not have spent an hour on Reddit reading forums titled “What candle scents make girls fall in love with you?” and this one had the best upvotes.)

He had set the scene. Maps unfurled like ancient scrolls of destiny. Dice sets lined up in a neat little rainbow offering to the gods of chance. Snacks meticulously arranged in what was supposed to be a dragon shape, though now it looked like a pile with tiny wings. Still. It was the thought that counted.

Everything was ready.

You're coming. Oh god. You're really coming. You're gonna sit here. With me. Maybe next to me. Or maybe not. No - no, no, you can sit next to Shoko. Or Nanami. Shit. What if you like Nanami? Oh my god, what if you like Nanami and not me? He’s got that broody thing.

He paced.

Screw it. Just play my campaign. Laugh at my jokes. Please. Just - please think I’m cool. Just once. Please don’t see through how desperate I am.

He adjusted his glasses. Then adjusted them again. Re-checked his rulebooks even though he wrote half the notes inside them himself. He’d already rehearsed your character’s intro fifteen times. But he did it again.

“…and as the tavern door creaks open, a figure steps through the mist. Cloaked in shadows, yet - no. No, too dramatic. They’ll think I’m trying too hard. Which I am, but like, subtle. Okay. Again - ”

His voice cracked mid-practice. He flopped down into his DM chair, then stood up again two seconds later, muttering, “Nope, can’t sit. Gonna combust.”

They’re gonna be here soon. They’re gonna walk through that door and I’m gonna die. Literally die. Headlines: Local Dungeon Master Dies When Pretty Person Shows Up.

The doorbell buzzed. Satoru physically jolted. Then stood there frozen in front of the door, hands out like he was about to catch a falling star. Or a live grenade.

Okay. Okay. It’s fine. Just breathe. Be normal. Don’t say anything weird. Don't tell them about the custom soundtrack you made for their backstory. Don't confess anything emotionally compromising in the first five minutes.

He opened the door. A stupid smile formed on his face.

Is he blushing? Please don't be blushing. Oh no. They’re even cuter than I remembered. I’m so screwed.

Wearing the coziest hoodie. Carrying a dice bag. Smiling. Beside you - because of course - was Geto Suguru. Satoru’s longtime friend. Fellow player. Tall. Cool. Calm. Hair tied back in a lazy bun that somehow made him hotter. That bastard. Satoru barely had time to panic before you laughed at something Geto said. A soft, amused laugh that curled around Gojo’s ribs and squeezed.

Then it happened. You looked at Geto. Blushed. Just the faintest pink brushing your cheeks. Just a second too long of eye contact. Just enough to punch Satoru square in his already fragile, overly romantic, nerdy heart.

You don’t like him. Right? No. It’s just warm. It’s almost summer. The hallway’s probably stuffy. Your hoodie’s too thick. That’s it. That’s all it is.

“Hey,” you greeted, blissfully unaware of his internal collapse.

“H-Hey!” Satoru yelped, voice cracking at a completely unnecessary octave. “You made it! That’s so cool. That’s - you look. Uh. Dice. You brought dice. Awesome. Good job.”

What the hell are you saying? Shut up.

Geto smiled at him. That smug, easy smile that Satoru had seen melt hearts and start trouble since freshman year.

“You didn’t tell me your new player was cute,” he said, tone maddeningly casual. You blinked. Satoru stopped breathing.

“Oh,” you said, voice softening, eyes flicking away. A little flustered. “Um. Thanks.”

You’re just being polite. That’s not real. That wasn’t real. Right?

Satoru forced a smile that came out more like a grimace. His brain was melting. His heart was clawing against his ribs.

“Haha! Yeah. So anyway! Let’s, uh. Go. Sit. Down. And have a drink. Or a seat. Or both. Whatever people do. When they enter rooms. With other people.”

Oh my god, please shut up. Please shut up. You’re going to die here and your ghost will be a virgin forever.

a/n: if you see any mistakes...no you don't totally not editing this while getting ready for wicked...totally not

[life-is-more-than-just-a-game]

Can you make a jealous chishiya? Where chishiya tells the reader to thet information about arisu but the reader and arisu gets along prety well and chishiya gets jealous? Thank you.

♠️ Chishiya being jealous about you and Arisu getting along pretty well ♠️

A/N: Hey, sorry for letting you wait so long. Maybe you have already forget that you wrote me this request but I like the idea behind it, so I decided to make this my "comeback". 👀

I'm actually not sure if I understood it the correct way, but I definitely understood you want a Chishiya who is jealous about the fact Arisu and you are get along splendidly. 😋

Hopefully it reaches you and I also hope you will enjoy reading this. ♥️

Characters: Chishiya

POV: gn!reader

Warnings: Not given.

C h i s h i y a

I don't see him being a jealous person actually.

Unless you give him a reason to ...

Chishiya isn't even a person who falls in love easily.

But when he is falling for someone, he falls pretty hard.

So, you have to deal with his feelings and his behavior when he sees you together with Arisu, chatting and laughing together as if there would be no tomorrow.

Okay, to be fair, nobody knows if there would be a "Tomorrow" ... but that's something different!

Arisu may be a great help to him when it comes to collecting all the cards, but sometimes Chishiya thinks Arisu is his downfall.

Especially when it comes to you.

Yeah, but don't think he will talk about it- he is more concerned with hiding his feelings from you than actually speaking about them.

Even if you already have realized something isn't okay with him, he wouldn't admit it.

"I'm used to it that you are not talking much when there is nothing important to discuss about." "I can hear your "but" even though you didn't said it yet." "Then guess what I wanted to say next." "I don't have any problems, I feel fine, no worries."

Nobody said it would be easy with him. He can be as cold as he looks and it's hard seeing through him, even for you.

Still, he can be a calm and cool person as much as he wants- but he's just a human being. You can endure a lot, but at some point everyone reaches their limits.

You and Arisu are talking a lot? Fine.

Arisu makes a joke you find funny, so he watches both of you laughing and having fun with each other? Alright, you aren't his trophy, everyone can have other friends next to his own partner.

But seeing both of you hugging after a game ...

Because you saw someone die in front of your eyes and you are now overwhelmed by many different emotions ...

Well, enough is enough.

"Step aside, Arisu, that's not your part, alright?"

He was waiting for you the entire time you were in the building, so it's not hard for him to find you both outside being ... needy.

"In the future, you'd better keep your hands to yourself." "Excuse me what was that?" "You already understand."

While Chishiya switches positions with Arisu and holds you captive in his arms, he just gives the dark-haired man a warning look.

… Even if unintentionally.

… And unconsciously.

"Well ... I better go then and ... leave both of you alone ... for now." Arisu lets off of you, leaving you to the person who means the most to you. "You better do."

Trying to catch your breath and calm down, you look up to Chishiya and Arisu alternately, feeling the tension between them.

Still, you can't help but start giggling a little.

Arisu und Chishiya both start looking at you now, irritated and confused.

"W-Well, wait ... just to make it clear- is there someone ... really ... jealousy?" "Yes, he is." "No, I'm not", he says calmly. "Okay, then ... let me hug Arisu again ... s-shouldn't be a problem when everything is okay. Right?"

Silence.

You smiling up to Chishiya, who is now biting his tongue and pressing his lips together, not even thinking about letting off of you.

Arisu watching in amusement.

"I'm ... just not fine seeing another one be there for you while I can be there for you. It's my job to cheer you up- even though I'm not the best in it, but I'm trying very hard." "You ARE jealousy, Chi!" "Oi, stop saying this, will you ... ?"

[unboundprompts]

Hello! Can you help me and/or give me examples of how to write a pre-teen? Specifically a slightly mature for their age but still socially-awkward, selfless, empathetic, extroverted 10-year-old

How to Write a Pre-Teen

Voice and Language

Simple but specific vocabulary: Pre-teens might not use very complex words, but they often know and throw in some “big words” they’ve recently learned or mimic words they hear adults use. Don’t overdo it, though—they’ll often misapply or half-understand these terms, which can create natural, humorous moments.

“It’s totally, like, a catastrophe that I forgot my project.”

Expressive dialogue: Pre-teens are enthusiastic and often exaggerate. They can also shift quickly between emotions, from excitement to frustration.

“That was the best movie ever!” might turn into “Actually, I mean, it was kinda boring in some parts, but, you know, overall…”

Thoughtful yet blunt: Kids this age often haven’t fully learned the “filters” adults use. They can be direct and say things that are surprisingly insightful or unexpectedly honest.

Thoughts and Perspective

Developing identity and opinions: They’re beginning to form their own beliefs but still echo the views of family, teachers, or friends.

“Mom says people should never lie, but I wonder if little lies are okay if they help people feel better…”

Questioning and introspective moments: Pre-teens are curious about life, relationships, and “big ideas.” They may ask questions, but sometimes keep their deep thoughts to themselves, exploring them internally.

“If friends are supposed to be there for each other, why do I feel alone even when they’re around?”

Struggle with abstract concepts: At this age, they’re just beginning to understand abstract ideas like justice or friendship but often approach them in straightforward, literal ways.

Behavior and Actions

Impulsivity and energy: They might shift quickly between activities and emotions, getting distracted or excited without much control over it. They may also blurt out ideas or act before thinking, especially if they’re extroverted.

For instance, a character might immediately jump up to help someone even if they aren’t sure what to do, or they might “borrow” something without fully considering the consequences.

Physical awkwardness: Pre-teens can be a bit clumsy as they’re still growing into their bodies. This can lead to endearing, awkward moments.

They might knock something over, trip over their own feet, or feel self-conscious in ways that show they’re still figuring themselves out physically as well as socially.

Friendships and Social Dynamics

Navigating social rules: Pre-teens are very aware of social “rules” but may not fully understand them. This is an age when they care a lot about what their friends think, but they’re also just beginning to question these dynamics.

A pre-teen might want to befriend the “cool” kids but feel conflicted when they realize their values don’t align. Or they may try too hard to impress friends and feel self-conscious afterward.

Conflicted loyalties: Friendships are often intense at this age, and they might struggle with conflicting feelings if friends argue or if they feel left out.

“I really like hanging out with Sarah, but I know Emma doesn’t. Maybe if I can make them both laugh, we could all just… get along?”

Small gestures: Pre-teens often show they care in understated ways, like sharing snacks, giving a small gift, or cheering someone up when they’re down. For a socially-awkward pre-teen, these gestures may come out clumsy but sweet.

Insecurity and Self-Awareness

Self-consciousness mixed with bravery: Pre-teens often fluctuate between trying to fit in and wanting to stand out. They might do something brave but then doubt themselves or quickly retreat if things don’t go as planned.

For instance, a character might volunteer to speak in front of the class only to feel panicked once they’re in the spotlight.

Hyper-awareness of themselves and others: They’re beginning to notice how others perceive them and may get flustered easily or worry about little things, like if their clothes look okay or if they sounded silly.

“I shouldn’t have laughed like that… I bet everyone thought I sounded so weird.”

Joking as a defense: Pre-teens often use humor to cope, covering up their awkwardness or discomfort by making jokes.

Reactions to Conflict and Emotion

Quick emotional shifts: They might go from laughing to frustrated to embarrassed in just a few minutes. They feel emotions intensely and may have outbursts or react strongly to things adults might dismiss as minor.

Heroic ideals vs. real-world disappointments: Many pre-teens have an idealized view of right and wrong, fairness, and heroism, and they may be disappointed when things don’t align with these ideals. They’re just starting to understand that people aren’t all good or all bad.

“I don’t get it… why would she lie about something like that? Friends are supposed to be honest!”

[aajjks]

Pu$$y Drunk (m)

synopsis. an insatiable pussy hungry Toji Fushiguro.

warnings: 18+ thèmès, èxplïcït cöntènt, smüt, püssy hüngry tójí, bèggïng (yùmmy), ôrál sèx (fèm rècíèvíng), fèràl tójí, nèèdy tôjí, prófáníty, tôngúè fückíng. MDNI

note. Toji makes my brain rot so here we go. if this is shitty to you. I am so sorry but if you like it, oh my God, yay. Oh my God guys enjoy and please follow me hehe, like this and re-blog this because I know some of you need this *wink*

header not mine, cr to owner, I found it on Pinterest!

“The fuck yn.. please don’t make me fuckin beg, baby.”

He doesn’t really like to beg because he’s always getting used to what he wants, especially from you. He doesn’t mean it in a good way, but you are quite easy.

But he doesn’t blame you because he is irresistible, and really fucking charming and sexy. And he knows that.

“Fuck.. please please I need this..” he says, looking into your eyes as he is parting your legs further apart.

you know that your resistance? it’s useless but it’s just fun to see him like this.

You really like it when he’s desperate like this. He needs to know that you control him. It’s fun to be in control of someone like him.

“eh I’m not interested OK.”

You reply, dryly. Suddenly your nails looks so interesting to you as you stare at your nails, avoiding his eyes because you know that his eyes get you weak.

His eyes are so… sexy.

Everything about him is sexy. “Nooo you don’t understand. I really need this.”

Toji doesn’t stop trying to pry your legs apart, you are no match to him when it comes to strength. But he knows what you want and he’s willing to give it to you.

As long as he gets to eat your pussy.

“Look at me yn! fuck— fuck, look at me baby.” He says, his voice deep and soft. “Please fuckin let me eat your pussy?” He says in a soft tone.

He can be soft if you want.

“Fuck… you know how much I love this pretty pussy of yours, the only thing that gets me goin’ you know it!”

Your heart flutters.

He groans, a smirk takes over his features as he manages to put some distance between your legs.

Oh, he loves your pink panties.

“So fuckin pretty.” He kisses your inner thigh, his skilled fingers grabbing the hem of your panties as he drags it downwards.

“Mhmm smells so good..” Toji sniffs, your resolve has already weakened and now you’re fucking horny

His words are doing things to you, you want to rub your legs together but you can’t. “A-Agh stop talking!” You finally manage to get it out.

But he only continues to kiss your inner thigh, and he slips one of his fingers gently inside your awaiting cunt.

You gasp, he sighs.

“Ohhh so tight already, goodness you’re already wet yn..” he speaks in such a low tone, you can barely hear him, it’s almost like he’s talking to himself… but you’re now to engrossed into the feeling of his finger inside you.

“a-ah..” you let out a sound, so pretty that he adds another one, stretching you out, it feels so fucking good.

“Oh baby.. fuck.” He starts to piston them in and out, you’re soaking, groaning as he teases you.

“Oh fucking stop it and fuck me with your tongue please!” You finally say it, Toji has you exactly where he wants.

He’s won, like always.

Even if it took a little bit of begging.

“Ahh okay okay.. fuck I love you.” He laughs, a breathy chuckle leaves his mouth and soon it’s on your pussy, attacking it with a vigorous passion.

The hunger is so intense as you feel his tongue deep and directly into your pussy, Toji licks, spits and licks again.

He’s just started but he’s so messy, too desperate to care. Your pussy drives him crazy.

His tongue feels so hot, avd wet as he explores your right walls with it, you’re fucking dripping as he eats you out furiously.

“nghhh mhmm ahhgnmmm!!~”

The noises, oh the noises, he’s so vocal, shamelessly so, your moans are uncontrollably loud too. You’re both such a mess.

Your legs begin to shake so you grip on his shoulders, his grip on your hips steadies you, you sigh in relief.

“oh fuck ohh..” you cuss, feeling your own orgasm building up. You instinctively push his head deeper, his mouth is so sloppy yet so skilled.

“ngh- Ahh baby don’t stop mhm..” you breathe out.

“Oh I— ngmmm— won’t.. just cum f’me.” He continues to eat you out, sucking your soul through your pussy so eagerly.

Only Toji can do that.

“A-Aghhh yess I’m- o-oh- I’m gonna cum.” You reply in a cry, your moans keep on rolling out of your agape mouth and his pace fastens, his tongue working extra hard.

And you cum all over his mouth, inside his mouth.

a loud moan of pleasure leaves him as he starts to lap at it.

“nghh such a good fuckin girl- mhm..”

You’re so exhausted, your visions blurry as you recover, try to recover from your orgasm, but when you think he’ll let go, suddenly his grip tightens even more.

“n-not *breathes* enough. Need more… cum for me *breathes* again…”