#it’s embarrassing having to be like hey I was just there but can I come back

[steddiecameraroll]

“Oh my god, Robin.” Steve is whispering into the mouth piece of his desk phone, begging she can hear him. Because he’s not going to be removing his hovering hand from over his mouth, while he groans into the phone, risking being overheard.

“What?” She sounds exasperated but not annoyed.

“You know the new guy? The one starting in IT today?”

“Yeah?” He can hear her clicking the ballpoint pen he thought he hid last week.

“He is so hot, and I need your help finding out if he plays for our team.”

“Your team, Steve. If he played for my team, this would be a different conversation. Why can’t you figure it out yourself?”

“Because Mike was the one that brought him by and you know how Mike feels about me. I’m pretty sure he told Eddie I was an asshole or something because he barely made eye contact. I don’t want to come on too strong and then I make it worse if he’s straight.” Steve glances over his cube wall to ensure no one’s listening. “Please, do this for me and I’ll buy you tacos for lunch.”

“Fine, oh speak of the devil. Here they come.” Steve hears her chair squeak. “I’ll call you back.”

They hang up and Steve leans in his chair trying to peer down the aisle and see if he can watch the interaction. Robin’s desk isn’t quite down the line so he can only see the top of Mike and Eddie’s head. Neither of their skulls are giving anything away so he sighs and accepts he’ll have to wait for Robin’s call.

After a painstaking 7 minutes Steve’s phone rings. He grabs it immediately and grunts an acknowledgment.

“Um.”

Steve’s stomach drops because that’s not Robin’s voice. “Sorry, this is Steve.”

“Hey, um, it’s Eddie. We just met.”

“Yeah,” Steve’s voice lilts up. “What’s up?”

“Oh, Robin said you had a question about something.” Of course she did.

“Uh, did she mention what it was about?” He’s going to murder her.

“No,” he sounds annoyed.

Think quick. “I was…do you play softball? I’m on a league and we’re always looking for new players.”

“No?” He’s probably wondering why he had Robin ask him to call. “Not really a sports guy.”

“Oh, yeah ok. That makes sense.” Steve rubs the back of his neck scrambling for conversation.

“Why does that make sense?”

Shit. “No, I just noticed your rings and nail polish. I can never keep polish on my nails during the season. Gets chipped too easily.” Eddie hums some kind of acknowledgment that Steve can’t interpret. “You’re probably in a band or something, way cooler than softball.” Steve sighs and needs to get out of this shit show of a conversation stat.

“I play guitar,” Eddie states simply.

“See? Yeah, so much cooler than softball. I never learned how to play anything. Wanted to, thought it would get me more chicks in high school.” Steve realizes what that sounds like and rushes to add. “Or anyone now.”

“Yeah, ok. Was there something computer related you needed help with?”

Steve wants to jump off the fifth floor of this building because why is he such a disaster at this? “Sorry, no. You’re probably busy. It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, you too, man.”

“Bye,” Eddie doesn’t respond and Steve drops the receiver down like he wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

“Well that was embarrassing.” Steve whips around to see Robin hovering behind him. “I set you up an easy hit and that’s what you do with it?” She has her right hand on her hip and her left hanging on the edge of his cube wall.

“You sabotaged me.” He points his finger at her then pushes himself to his feet. He needs more coffee.

“I did nothing of the sort.” She follows close behind as he weaves through the maze toward the break room.

“Yes you did. I asked you to find out and keep me away from the entire thing. You didn’t even send me a courtesy Slack message. This does not equal tacos.”

“Not fair!” She whines as he pushes the door open with his shoulder.

“It’s only fair since you didn’t do anything. I was the one who looked like an idiot fumbling to come up with something to say to the guy because my best friend refused to find out if he’s queer on her own.”

Robin’s eyes are wide and she’s not speaking which slightly terrifies Steve. He turns around to see the man of the hour pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Hmm,” Eddie tuts, then leans against the counter with a level of nonchalance that shouldn’t be doing something for Steve. “That explains that. Glad I won’t be obsessing the rest of the day about what in the world the hot guy was going on about.”

Eddie’s eyes flick up to Steve and when Steve sees the corner of Eddie’s mouth tick up he can’t help it when a blush spreads across his cheeks. Steve thinks he hears Robin back out of the room but he’s not going to turn around to verify.

“My band has a show this Friday. You should come.” He says while pushing his body away from the counter and stalking toward Steve.

“Yeah,” Steve watches the man move closer.

“I’ll email you the info.” Eddie stops a foot in front of Steve, much too close for casual, and it sends a rush of butterflies through his gut. “Harrington, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“Cool,” Eddie puts his hands on Steve’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze as he steps past. “Oh and it’s too bad you don’t paint your nails more. I bet your fingers look pretty wrapped around…that bat.” Steve feels the weight of the pause and so does his dick if the twitch it gives means anything. “See ya later, man.”

When Eddie disappears through the doorway and Steve’s alone he exhales loudly just before Robin’s pushing her way back into the break room.

“Soooooo?”

“Wanna split the carne asada plate?”

“Yes!” She fist bumps into the air. “Knew it.”

“Also, how does manicures at lunch tomorrow sound?” She cocks her head at him. “He thinks my fingers would look good painted when holding-“

“Don’t!” She interrupts.

“A baseball bat,” he says innocently.

“Uh huh,” she narrows her eyes. “As long as you’re driving, I’m game.”

[crookedteethed]

TO be a star, you must burn | r.c.

Pairing: pornproducer!rafecameron x starlet!reader

Summary: For the price of fame, you give your body to porn producer, Rafe Cameron.

Warnings: 18+ smut ( p in v ), semi-public sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, pet names, Reader gets her body examined, fingering, cursing, Naive reader(?), filming sex, Rafe takes advantage of reader for the sake of "fame", Rafe's kinda a sleazeball/manipulative in this, hinted reader is a stripper

Word count: 2.2k

You feel a twinge of embarrassment as you make eye contact with the woman standing in the corner of the room. You recognize her as the one who spotted you at ValleyDolls Lounge, the woman who told you, "Rafe Cameron can make you a star," while handing you a business card with just a telephone number on it. 

You notice the woman's lack of interest as Rafe's muscular hand gropes your plump left breast, and with his slender fingers, he pinches your nipple. 

Your nipple pebbles at the exposure of his pinch, and you feel your body hairs prickle up at the exposure of the ceiling fan that spins over your head. 

"You uh, you aren't a mother are you?" He asks, his hands now roaming down to your nether lips. You suck your teeth at the feeling of the cool breeze prickle your pussy as Rafe uses his thump to pull your left fold back.

"No, sir." You try to say with confidence, but ultimately, your voice comes out coaxed in a shaky fear. 

"I can tell." Rafe mutters, face inching closer and closer to your cunt. 

You resist the urge to close your legs consciously, but the option to do so has been prohibited, as Rafe's hand, the one not examining your pussy, holds a tight grip on your hitched knee. 

For a second, you look up at the spiraling ceiling and let out a long sigh to calm your bustling nerves. Looking away from the ceiling fan, cerulean eyes beam at you in interest. 

"You have a pretty pussy." Rafe boyishly smiles at you, now keeping his hands to himself.

You blush at his words as getting told you have a "Pretty Pussy" isn't something you're complimented on a daily, so naturally, you hide your blush behind the palm of your hand. 

"Would you agree?" Rafe asks, now going into the black duffle bag beside his desk. 

"Huh?" 

"Do you think you have a pretty cunt." This time, Rafe restated with a tantalizing tone, telling you you had no choice but to agree, so you nodded. 

"Good." Rafe smiles. "Not a lot of girls can say that, you're one of the lucky ones." 

From the duffle bag, Rafe pulls out a chunky camera--the kind they shoot movies with. Hence, a smile began to form on your lips. From the sight of the camera and from Rafe calling you "Lucky." 

The butterflies in your stomach went up the octave at the sight of the camera; this was going to be your big break.

Rafe calls to the woman in the corner: "Hey, Sarah, do me a favor and tell all the other girls waiting in the hall to come back tomorrow. I want to focus on Y/N today." He smirks. 

And just as the woman--Sarah--goes to do so, while turning the doorknob of Rafe's office, Rafe tells her: "Oh, and don't bother me for the next hour or so, and let everyone else know that as well." 

Though he'd been talking to Sarah, Rafe's eyes stayed on you the entire time, causing the butterflies to multiply. 

When Sarah's gone, silence takes its course as Rafe sets up his camera, facing the lens to the plush white couch on the side of Rafe's office.

The silence makes you remember that you were wholly bare and how odd it had been, so you ask Rafe if you could put your clothes back on.

"Y'know, it's not normal for pretty women like you to be ashamed of her body." 

As your eyebrows begin to curve in an upward pout, and you start to protest, Rafe tells you: 

"It's really off-putting for a guy like me." 

"W-what is that supposed to mean?" You question. 

Rafe motions his head for you to take a seat on the couch, and you do so, hopping off the edge of his desk (where you were once getting examined on), bare feet plopping on the cold tiled ground of Rafe's office. 

As you sit on the couch, Rafe stands behind the camera lens, half of his face covered by the camera.

"What I mean is: You being ashamed of being naked in front of me means you're not ready to be a star." Rafe says in a condescending tone.

"I'm am ready to be a star!" you protest. "I swear!"

You didn't tell Rafe that you could recite any type of monologue-- a soliloquy, dramatic, or operatic--but something told you this isn't what Rafe wanted to hear.

"Really?" He smirks. You nod your head as if you were a bobble head. "Prove it to me." Rafe says.

Right then, you notice the camera's red light blinks on and off, meaning he is now recording. 

"You ever fucked on camera before?" Rafe asks you.

You hadn't before, so you shake your head 'no'.

"Have you ever fucked ever, before?" He then goes to asks.

You had yet to have a long list of guys like the girls you worked with at ValleyDolls lounge, something you always felt slightly embarrassed about. 

You tell Rafe your body count: a whopping number of two.

And behind the camera, you can see Rafe beginning to smile.

"So you're not ran through." He mutters to himself, which you don't think was meant for your ears.

"I could tell your pussy was tight." He says snobbishly.

"Really? How so?" you naively ask Rafe, intrigued by his all-knowing of this without ever being inside you. 

Rafe takes this opportunity to step from behind the camera and sit beside you on the couch. 

"Open your legs for me," he tells you, and as you do so, Rafe praises you with a "Good Girl." 

Without warning, Rafe takes his pointer and middle finger, lightly tracing it down the flesh of your stomach and to your core, where he goes to plunge them inside of your cunt, but as foreseen, you're too tight, and Rafe can only get one finger in. 

"See, told you, you're too tight. I don't know how you're going to be able to take a dick inside of you." 

Your cunt burns at Rafe's impeccable intrusion, and you feel yourself let out a little mewl as Rafe teases your core by curling his finger deep inside of you. 

"Doesn't this feel good, Y/N?" 

You shyly nod, something in your mind telling you that this isn't right, but fuck, why did Rafe's one finger have to feel so good? And why did knowing you were being filmed on camera turn you on so much? 

Besides, this was for your dream of becoming a star, anyway. 

"There you go, sweetheart. Now you're starting to relax." Rafe coos as the sound of your gushy cunt accompanies the noises of your little pants and moans. 

"I'm going to add another finger." Rafe warns you. 

And as said, Rafe plunges another finger in, simultaneously stretching you out for his dick and making you feel oh, so good. 

Your gummy walls take on the shape of Rafe's thick, slender fingers as they pump in and out of you relentlessly—your muscles contract around him.

Unconsciously, you squirm and wiggle out of his grip, opening and closing your legs at Rafe's never-ending pleasurable assault. 

He gets stern with you and pry your legs open, telling you to be a "good girl." and "let the camera see your pussy." 

You open your legs a little wider, leaving more room for Rafe's fingers to sink deeper inside your cunt. 

"m'feels so good, Rafe " You whine out.

"Really, sweetheart? It feels good?" Rafe says condescendingly, and you nod pathetically.

Gathering slick from your weeping pussy, Rafe uses your juices to circle your clit with his thump. The pad of his calloused thump brings a burning sensation widespread across your entire body. 

"Y'know, Y/N." Rafe slowly says, fingers still pumping inside of you. "I'm still finding it hard to believe that you really want to be a star." 

"I do--" you wince as Rafe pushes down on your pulsating little bundle of nerves. 

"I don't know," he contemplates. I'm just still not sold." He fake thinks, "unless you can prove me otherwise..." 

As if on cue, he slowly pulls his fingers out of you. Rafe manages to peek at his fingers, covered in your arousal, before looking down into your wide, doll-like eyes.

And if it weren't for the gritty smirk on his face or the way Rafe had slightly man spread his legs a little wider and placed his hand over his clothed, hardening cock, you wouldn't have understood what he was suggesting. 

And as Rafe slowly leans you back onto the couch, he is still clothed, but his pants are pulled down just enough to release his pulsing dick; Rafe tells you as if it were scripted: "Don't be ashamed, sweetheart. How else do you think all the other women in Hollywood got their start?"

He's right, you tell yourself. 

So you slowly nodded as Rafe placed a warm kiss on your dome. Right after, you feel him grab his length and align his reddening tip towards your sobbing, wet entrance. 

It isn't long until you feel the slow-burning--the feeling of Rafe's fat cock penetrating inside of you deep; it prompted you to let out the prettiest moan Rafe had ever heard in his years as a pornographer.

You didn't know what to do with your arms, so you wrapped them around Rafe's body, bringing him closer to you, while Rafe's muscular hands placed themselves on your hips to hold you in place. 

"Fu-ck.." Rafe drags, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"Best fucking pussy ever." 

God, it was like you were a fucking virgin again with how big Rafe's cock felt inside of you and the way your pussy tightly squeezed it as if your life depended on it. 

A wave of pleasure washed over you as his thick shaft stretched and filled every inch of you. Your body tingled with excitement and anticipation, your senses heightened by the overwhelming sensation—a rush of desire coursing through your veins, leaving you breathless and craving more.

"More." You managed to choke out as Rafe's cock penetrated your core. Stomach fluttering at each intrusion.

Your senses were overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the moment as pleasure radiated through every inch of your body. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you, pushing you closer to the edge of blissful release.

Dark eyes stared at your twitching face. Rafe chuckles at you because "God, who knew you were such a cock slut, taking me so well in this little tight cunt of yours." 

The lewd sounds of your passionate encounter heightened the intensity of the moment, fueling your desire and deepening your and Rafe's connection. Each moan, grunt, and slap of skin served as a powerful affirmation of your mutual pleasure, enveloping you both in a world of eroticism and ecstasy.

As your bodies moved in sync, your whispers of desire mingled with the intoxicating aroma of passion. "I've never felt anything like this before," you confessed, your voice filled with awe and longing, causing Rafe to let out a loud groan. 

"Fuck, they're going to love you." Rafe grunts, making a smile grow on your lips. "Or maybe I'll keep you for myself." He says lowly. "Use you as my personal little fuck toy, wouldn't you like that sweetheart?" 

Caught off guard, you blurted out, "I'm gonna cum," before Rafe drew closer. His face hovered just above yours, his hands moving to the back of your neck. Hot, eager breaths mingled as your lips nearly met.

At that moment, waves of pleasure surged through your body, overpowering your senses and causing your muscles to tremble uncontrollably. 

The intensity of the experience left you in a state of euphoria. Still, the awareness of your surroundings brought a mix of embarrassment and excitement, forcing you to stifle your moans and contain the raw energy that had consumed you.

And like a domino effect, after you came, shortly after Rafe came, his muscles tightened, his back arching like a drawn bow, before he suddenly released, his head falling forward as he climaxed--his milky spunk painting your walls white. 

He stayed inside you for a moment, breathless and dizzy; your eyelids fluttered as both of your minds went blank.

And after catching his breath, Rafe springs off of you. 

"Put your clothes back on." he says sternly, demeanor seeming to change from when he was just praising you about how good your pussy is. 

Suddenly, your demeanor shifted as you became overwhelmed by feelings of illness and self-disgust. 

You slowly walk to your pile of clothes at the foot of Rafe's desk. 

"Hurry up." Rafe rushes. "I don't have all day." 

As you quickly put your clothes back on, from the side of your eye, you notice Rafe take a sticky note from his desk and scribble a few words with a black pen. 

"Here," he tells you, just as you put on your clothes. "Be at this address by 7 a.m. sharp, no later. We can start your filming and make you a star." He winks.

And as you hesitantly take the sticky note, you think this isn't the type of star you want to be. 

But, on the contrary... 

As you exit Rafe's office, your mind drifts to the countless times you've fantasized about being in the spotlight and achieving fame. With this opportunity, your dream finally seems within reach - all thanks to Rafe Cameron.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i want you closer, closer even still ; suguru geto

synopsis; in the midst of a rainshower, you run into your mysterious classmate.

word count; 6.1k

contents; suguru geto/reader, gn!reader, implied no curses au, fluffy summer vibes, forced proximity (my beloved <3), pining, very shoujo manga coded, vague allusions to sugu having a troubled background, (kind of same w reader), switching povs, gojo slander, stsg implications if you squint (my brand), he’s a sweet sweet boy and i love him :((

a/n; teen sugu reminds me a lot of the kind upperclassman type of otome game li… with secret emotional baggage that makes his route really hard to complete….. anyway i dedicate this fic to hit mobage jujutsu kaisen: phantom parade PLEASE bring sugu home to me please please please ple

geto looks beautiful in the rain. 

it’s an embarrassing first thought to have, as he rounds the corner and comes into view. a black head of hair, making you stop in your tracks, breathe in a gulp of humid air.

you can’t help it, though.

it’s raining. droplets ricochet against the sidewalk in an endless cadence, the sky above you blanketed by gray clouds; enveloping your city in a summery shadow, the scent of hot concrete and blossoming hydrangeas. everything smells of a blistering summer, youth in a bottle cap. tasty on your tongue.

those very same hydrangeas surround him, on all sides, framing his figure like a painting come to life. splotches of colour, flecks of purple and pink and blue, clashing with the gray sky and the black umbrella in his hand. he looks a little disheveled; hair a little frizzy, bangs sticking to his skin. a peaceful expression on his face. 

you see recognition flash in his eyes, when they meet yours, a tiny spark in the amber hue. 

you take that as your cue to move closer. 

he waits for you, always so patient, smiling as you look both ways before crossing the street — shoes hitting the concrete in a steady thud, thud, thud. a splash from the puddle you step in.

you’re in a good mood. veins flooding with sugar and buzzing with joy, raindrops sticking to your skin and the plastic bag in your hand, absently humming along to a song playing through your headphones. your clothes are soaked, but you’re smiling; swinging the bag of treats as you walk. bags of chips, colourful lollipops, bottles of ramune, clinking together for every step you take. enough to last you a couple weeks. 

in your good mood, you ended up stocking up on your classmates’ favorites — bouncing on the balls of your feet at the thought of giving them away, seeing their satisfied little expressions. you even got something for gojo. he’ll have to fight for it, obviously, but you look forward to seeing his face light up when he takes a bite of the soft mochi.

you like giving them things. it’s fun. it makes you feel like a normal high school kid. 

right now, nothing can dampen your spirits. the entire world smells of rain, and hydrangeas, and apple blossoms from the backyards behind you. a scent that creeps into your bloodstream, sneaks into your breath. 

a smile grows on your lips — blooming even brighter when you step into your classmate’s orbit.

”hey!” you chirp, raising a hand up in greeting.

”hey,” geto echoes, voice honeyed and smooth, bringing a hand up to wipe at his forehead. wet from the humid air. ”out on a walk?”

you smile, lifting your plastic bag up slightly to get his attention. raindrops stick to the plastic, to the tips of your fingers. you clasp it tightly. ”just went to get some snacks. you?”

”i wanted to get some fresh air,” he smiles. eyeing you up and down. ”did you forget your umbrella?” 

silently, he takes in your appearance. your breathing is a tiny bit laboured, and the flimsy, oversized hoodie you’re wearing is sticking to your skin. it’s all that protects you from the steady downpour; no umbrella to be seen. you look small, tilting your head upwards, meeting his gaze. he feels the beginnings of a smile play at his lips.

seeing the rain cascade down your skin, he can’t help but be exasperated. all you do is blink, seemingly unbothered, as if you aren’t straight on the road to catching a cold. you can be a little scatterbrained. 

maybe that’s why he can’t help but dote on you.

(that’s what satoru calls it, at least. suguru thinks it’s just called being nice — not like satoru would know anything about that.)

”oh. no, i didn’t forget.” you scratch at the back of your neck. ”just didn’t know it was going to rain.”

the sudden downpour gave you no time to prepare, heavy and abrupt — clouds obscuring the glowing sun in what felt like no more than a second. like someone high above flicked the light switch of the world. all you could do was pull your hood up, try to walk under whatever apple tree you came across. it didn’t help much, though. 

you shift your weight from one foot to another, soles weighed down, dripping with dew. sort of sheepish.

geto chuckles, raspy and soft. a little teasing. ”didn’t you see the weather report?”

”well, it… just slipped my mind, i guess.”

silently, you avert your gaze. now you remember — yaga-sensei did mention that, didn’t he? you heard him say it. but you just forgot.

geto is laughing at you, a little, from within his eyes; at least that’s the impression you get. so you continue, eager to defend your honour. 

”it’s fine, though,” you assure him, smiling brightly. a sunny grin. ”i like the rain!”

geto raises an unimpressed brow, but the expression fades away just as swiftly — giving way to something softer. ”you’re heading back to the dorms, right?” he asks, continuing once you give him a slight nod. ”then we can share.”

you blink. one moment passes, then two. but geto only smiles, shifting his umbrella a little, hoping you’ll get the hint. silently beckoning you over. 

you feel oddly flustered.

in truth, you and him aren’t particularly close. he’s nice to you, sure, but geto is nice to everyone. you’d like to call him a friend, but what do you actually know about him? not much. 

suguru geto is a bit of an enigma. a little mysterious. he’s polite, well-mannered, and he seems like the most normal of your classmates — but the bar is in hell, because you know for a fact geto isn’t normal either. no normal guy deliberately chooses to keep his bangs like that. 

there’s a gap, there. a kind of inconsistency. he’s hard to approach, but he puts you at ease. pulls you in and scares you off. with a soft voice and kind smile, keen eyes and a heavy palm on your head. sometimes he brings you snacks when you study in the library, or helps you with homework. kind of like a dependable senpai. someone to lean on.

but then there’s that gap. 

the real geto, who you’ve only seen glimpses of, only ever in gojo’s vicinity, is boyish and bright — he laughs and pouts and takes up space. he glows brighter than the sun. but the geto you’re seeing, right now, is more like the moon. wearing a polite, patient smile. standing up straight.

waiting for you to join him under his umbrella.

(he’s kind. but is he doing it because wants to, or because he feels obliged to?)

”… oh.” a pause. ”ah — no, it’s fine!” you take a step back, quick to reassure him. ”i can walk there without it! i’m already soaked, anyway.”

geto observes you. for a moment, something in his expression flickers; a crease between his brows.

then he shakes his head. still wearing a comforting smile, the same one he always slips on when he’s around you. ”still. we don’t want you catching a cold,” he persists, sounding something like a nagging mother. ”you’ll miss the exam next week.”

and with that, your shoulders drop. 

right — the exam. the one you haven’t been studying for in the slightest, completely distracted by the feeling of summer in the air. the one you can’t fail, under any circumstances, because yaga-sensei can and will force you into taking summer classes for it. that exam. 

a wistful sigh leaves your lips. ”god, i wish.”

geto chuckles — a little deeper than usual. it makes your heart flutter. then he’s beckoning you over, again, with a slight shake of his head. 

”c’mon. there’s enough room for two.”

he gives you that same familiar smile, and you’re forced to admit that you might be slightly weak to it. something about the way his lips tug upwards, the light crinkle of his eyes. a certain glint in them that tells you he’s not budging on the issue. 

you’re still a little hesitant. but…

(this is a chance, isn’t it? a chance to bridge that gap between you.)

silently, shyly, you join him under his umbrella. shielding you from the still falling rain.

pitter patter, pitter patter. you don’t know where the rain ends and your own heartbeat begins. he’s so close — your shoulders nearly brushing together. it makes your nerves bubble up, in rhythm with the droplets bouncing off the cover up above. you feel stiff. the tiny, miniscule gap between you feels like a sweltering stove, radiating a heat that warns you to stay away. as if his touch could burn you. like this, you can even smell him; fresh laundry, an earthy cologne. the slightest hint of caffeine and tobacco. you blame it on shoko — the whole dormitory smells of cigarettes, thanks to her. 

it’s comforting, though. his scent. blending together with the aroma of rain, wet earth, blooming flowers. with his fragrance smoothing over all your senses, the closeness between you a constant reminder of the situation you’re in, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. 

with a quick murmur of thanks, you begin to walk, in tandem.

geto can’t help but steal a glance at you, out of the corner of his eye. you look a little meek, a little flustered. he hopes the narrow distance between you isn’t making you feel too uncomfortable. 

just to be sure, he angles his body away from yours. ever so slightly, one subtle step away, to make the gap a little wider. then, as discreetly as he can manage, he tilts the umbrella in your direction — not wanting the seemingly never-ending drops of rain to graze your skin. he can feel them, now, soaking through the material of his shirt, hitting his shoulder. but he doesn’t mind. 

you don’t seem to notice, and geto is relieved. he’s pretty sure you’d protest — and as enjoyable as another friendly squabble would be, he’d prefer to avoid it for now.

you’re nice. accommodating, he thinks, in a subtle kind of way. always showing up with trinkets after your little outings, offering to get everyone a drink on your way to the vending machines. you’re friendly with the other two; always nagging at shoko to stop smoking, even when she just rolls her eyes and calls you a goody two shoes. recently, you’ve even started to be patient with satoru, even when he tries to get a rise out of you. it wasn’t like that at the start of the year. geto wonders what changed. 

he’s a little interested in you. just a little. you’re sweeter than the other two, easier to worry over. he saw you trip over your own shoelaces last week. you’re a little clumsy, a bit of a ditz — airheaded. maybe that’s why he can’t help but feel protective of you. satoru brushes everything off with a cheeky grin, and shoko is self-sustaining, but you’re often in need of a helping hand. the last time he tried that with the other two, they wouldn’t stop calling him mother geto until he smacked them over the head with gojo’s shounen jump issue. 

it makes him feel out of place — when he doesn’t have anything to tend to. itchy, a feeling of dread crawling up his throat. peace and quiet feels suffocating, when he isn’t in total control over it.

so, in his own way, small as it may be, geto enjoys taking care of you. grabbing you a carton of strawberry milk, or warding satoru away when he’s annoying you a little too much. he likes the smile you grace him with when he does. it’s pretty. and it’s all geto really knows about you — that, and that there’s a tenderness to you that’s hard to fake. it’s not much to go on.

so this is the perfect opportunity to learn more. 

(a heartfelt connection. something he’s always, always craved. something that maybe he can finally have, with satoru, and shoko, and you — 

if you’re willing, that is.)

”hey,” he starts, breaking the rainfilled silence. keeping his umbrella steady, leading you both away from a big puddle in the middle of the sidewalk. ”can i ask you something?”

you raise your head to look at him. blinking owlishly, at the sudden question, nerves beginning to rise again. he sounds kind of serious. did you do something? paranoia gnaws anxiously at the ridges of your ribs, but all you can do is swallow empty air and stammer out a meek reply.

”… uh, sure!”

geto glances over at you, his eyes meeting yours. that gaze of his is kind of heavy — the deep colour of his eyes coaxing you closer, luring you in. honey and amber, splotches of cedar and flecks of gold.

they’re pretty.

”this might be kind of a weird question,” he begins, reaching a hand up to adjust his bun, sneaking a finger under the black hair tie. voice light; to put you at ease. ”but i’m just curious.” 

he looks ahead, at the street before you, only meeting your stare once you give him a slight tilt of your head. then he parts his lips.

”why did you come here?”

you blink. 

silently, confusion painting the interior of your iris, you stare at him. waiting for a clarification that doesn’t come, before giving him a hesitant answer. ”… to get snacks?”

geto has the audacity to laugh, after such a vague question. the sound is light and breathy, melting together with the pitter patter of the rain, and for some reason it strikes you as sincere. ”not like that,” he grins. ”i mean, why did you come to the school in the first place?”

ah. 

that’s a different question. harder to answer. he must notice your hesitance, the puzzlement in your features, because he’s quick to elaborate. hiding a smile behind his fist, disguised as a cough.

(you’re sort of cute when you’re confused.)

”i mean — it’s an odd choice, isn’t it? far off the map, barely any students....” you nod along, and he continues. ”i don’t know about your background. but moving away from home must be kind of tough, right?” when he glances in your direction, you notice a sparkle of genuine curiosity in his eyes. ”so i was curious about your reason. if you feel comfortable telling me, i mean.”

a hum. it buzzes in your throat, absentminded, as you stare into space. brows furrowed. 

geto gives you time, as much time as you need, always willing to wait. for a minute or so, the only sounds that fill the space around you are the pitter patter of raindrops hitting the plastic cover of umbrella, and the sound of your shoes meeting puddles on the street. silently, you ponder the question. thinking of your answer.

geto has a point. you’ve been curious, too — about how your classmates ended up in such an eccentric little school, so detached from the rest of the world. a quirky private school in the middle of nowhere. you must all be a little eccentric yourselves. that’s probably why you feel so safe with them — you get the sense that you’re all lacking something. something that would ward normal kids away from such an unorthodox choice.

you could say you were just going with the flow. a relative of yours used to work with yaga-sensei, and heard about his position at a newly reinstated private school — heard that he was looking for students to fill the roster. 

so you accepted.

(if it was really that simple, geto would already have his answer.)

what drew you in, more than anything, was the promise of something new. a strange, small school, far away from home; from the people you know, the town you know, the life that you’ve lived. far away from the person you are, the person you was, the person you’ve always been.

an escape. that’s all it was. 

a way out.

he’s still waiting for your answer, even now, trying to read your thoughts off your face. eyes trailing over every contour. very briefly, you consider dodging the question — but his silent, steady presence squeezes a little honesty out of you. 

you want to give him a genuine answer.

”… i guess,” you begin, weighing the words on your tongue. they feel stale, a little awkward, but not dishonest. ”i wanted to stop being me for a bit.” 

the words are unexpected, surprising even to your own ears — like your mouth and your mind weren’t quite cooperating, one ahead of the other, one not weighing in on the honest choice. they catch geto off guard. 

he looks at you, silently, attempts to dissect your expression; but he doesn’t succeed. 

for a second, something flashes in his eyes. a glimmer that you just barely catch, that you can still sense behind his eyelids when they flutter shut. you’re not sure what to call it. recognition, maybe, or something like empathy. a sense of acknowledgement. it’s gone when he opens his eyes. 

he doesn’t look at you when he answers.

”… i get that.”

there’s a depth to his words that you’re afraid to uncover. you feel their weight, all the same, glancing up at him, studying his expression, the humid drops of dew that stick to his lashes. and you feel a tug. faint, non-existent, the string between your pinkies —

a growing connection. 

(it makes you feel oddly bare.)

all you can give him is a chuckle, a little breathless. ”do you?” you ask, grinning weakly. ”it’s a little melodramatic.”

geto only smiles. silent, comfort personified. there’s no judgement in his eyes, none whatsoever — because he knows exactly what you mean.

fleeing from the past. 

it’s a kind of murder, he thinks. a rebirth.

maybe the two of you are similar. similar in the sense that he recognizes the shadow in your eyes, the one he sometimes sees in mirrors; familiar in the sense that you both suffer from that same sickening awareness. 

(maybe you want the same thing he wants, what he’s always wanted — 

control.)

it’s a realization that creeps up on you, the both of you, slow and steady. a sense of kinship. it envelops you, cradles you close, in the same way molten clouds cover the summer sky.

geto isn’t lying, you can tell. he does get it. you know, just from that tilt of his voice, the way his eyelashes flutter, his absent shifting from one foot to another. and it soothes your worries.

everything is silent, for a bit. you look down at the asphalt, at your own reflection in a puddle, and geto gazes at the bushes of hydrangeas to his right. you feel safe, right next to him, under his umbrella. and he feels content to have you there. your shoulders brush together, for a moment, and it sends a jolt through your heartbeat.

geto inhales a breath.

”by the way —” 

”— have you studied for the exam?”

you both still. blurting out the words at the same time, turning to look at each other; sheepishly blinking in the other’s direction.

then he barks out a laugh.

”sorry,” he hums, a sleek smile on his lips. bright and sheepish. ”what was that? the exam?”

”ah — yeah,” you feel heat settle on the back of your neck, crawling up your ears. ”have you, um, studied for it at all?”

geto moves the umbrella from one arm to the other, smoothly directing you to stand on his right instead of his left. guiding you with his hand on your lower back, ghosting the fabric of your clothing. he stretches his free arm, a little stiff.

”yeah,” he exhales. ”not a lot, though.”

”really?” you blink up at him, trying not to blush at how easily he maneuvered you. stupid, stupid heartbeat. ”you strike me as the honour student type…”

geto scoffs. it leaves his lips before he can tug it back. ”satoru said the same thing.”

a breath spills from your lips, almost a chuckle. you’re not sure how to feel about being compared to gojo, of all people, but you’ll let it slide this once. ”well, you just kinda have that vibe.”

now he’s huffing, tethering on the edge of something childish, and your smile grows. you’re seeing him make a lot of new expressions today. 

”why, though?” comes a sigh. he must be playing it up, a little — you almost get fooled into thinking he’s pouting. ”is it the hair? i don’t even wear glasses anymore...”

”well —” you pause. ”hold on, you used to wear glasses?”

all you get is an absent hum. he doesn’t notice your wide, shellshocked eyes. ”when i was younger. i got rid of them a couple years back.”

“oh…” you try to imagine it, for a second. he’d look frighteningly good in them. just barely, you manage to keep yourself from saying it out loud. ”i think it’s more just your general personality. like, you’re responsible and polite… or something.”

and geto chuckles; the intersection between a teasing smile and a soft grin. it’s just a little bit ethereal, painted over with the humid summer air. he turns towards you.

”and that makes me an honour student?” 

”… okay, maybe not.” you bring a hand up to your hair, fixing it absently. deflating a little. ”you just strike me as intelligent, i guess.”

geto smiles, again, as always. the chuckle that escapes him is faint and fond, and awfully soft, dripping down his lips. ”well, thank you.” 

his eyes are warm, burning into yours. all you can do is glance away. you still don’t really understand this sensation — why he’s suddenly so easy to talk to. why he feels like something other than just a classmate, when he looks at you like that. 

then again, geto has always been a natural at putting people at ease. maybe that’s why you can’t help but warm up to him, compliantly, the way a child dutifully follows the first butterfly they ever see — it’s a little too pretty to resist. 

you want to slip deeper into his world, you realize. you don’t want this moment to end so soon.

”you guys really get along, huh?” you change the subject, speaking slowly, savouring every syllable. there isn’t any rush to get the words out all at once, when you’re with him. 

geto blinks, tilting his head. 

”hm?”

“you and gojo, i mean.”

a glimmer passes through his eyes, as your query sinks in. ”ah. yeah.” his gaze strays upwards, and a contemplative look settles into his face. he knows what you’re after, what you’re really asking; why are the two of you so close? why do you put up with his antics? 

what do you see in him? 

he thinks it’s a fair question. it’s not like he hasn’t asked himself the very same thing, before — satoru can be annoying. ignorant, too, and terribly rude. a little prick. when he stole his curry bun yesterday, geto wanted to kill him. spoiled little brat.

(then again, he’s…)

”he’s… well.” geto exhales, a little breathless. tasting the words on his tongue. ”you know how he is — but he’s not a bad guy.” 

and it’s true. he really isn’t. satoru is a lot of things; rude and spoiled, cocky and bratty, an expert at ticking everyone off. but there’s a kind of charm, there. an innocence that geto admires. 

satoru is childish — because he is a child. a child who knows a lot of things that children shouldn’t know. a child who doesn’t know the most basic of things. satoru doesn’t know how to make friends. he doesn’t know how to ask for help, doesn’t know how to give it. he doesn’t know what cotton candy tastes like, because he’s never tried it before. 

his childhood couldn't have been very warm. it definitely wasn’t normal. 

is that why he puts up with him, then? out of pity? of course not. the bare thought of it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. he’d never look down on satoru, like that — and he knows he’d hate him for it. if anything, geto thinks that maybe the two of them are close because he doesn’t give him any special treatment. even if satoru wasn’t treated with warmth or love, he was certainly coddled. spoiled. it’s evident, in the way that he acts.

but satoru isn’t a god, and he shouldn’t act like one. 

one punch, right across the face; knocking the white-haired boy off his feet. that’s where their friendship began. there were stars in satoru’s eyes, geto thinks, when he looked up at him from the ground. sunglasses fallen off from the impact, blue eyes entirely on display, catching the light of the sun — gleaming with a certain bewilderment. almost amazement. like he didn’t know he could be hit, didn’t know it was possible. the sun shone down on him, illuminating the vague bruising on his cheek, and geto wondered if that was the first punch the boy had ever taken.

it certainly wasn’t a first for him, when satoru lunged at him next —

it was a little juvenile. more than a little deranged. geto isn’t one to throw fists, in the first place — he’s out of practice. the punch he fed satoru might’ve been a little too forceful. he couldn’t help but feel bad, every so slightly, for putting a bruise on that irritatingly pretty face of his. 

but it still ended with satoru’s arm around his shoulder, a buzzing voice by his ear, proclaiming them as friends. cheery and bright.

geto couldn’t help but echo the statement.

(satoru is a lot of things. 

most of all, he’s really hard to hate.)

geto’s answer brings a smile to your face. ”yeah,” you hum, soft voice breaking him out of his reverie. ”he isn’t.”

he looks at you. silently, a question of his own brewing in his irises — and with you so close, close enough to touch, smiling at him like he’s an old friend… geto can’t help but indulge in his own curiosity. 

he tries to appear nonchalant, stealing a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. ”seems like the two of you are getting along better, too.” 

”me and gojo?” you blink, surprised. a little flustered. huffing out an amused breath, trying to brush off the bare thought. ”no way.”

geto laughs — it’s a deep sound, a full one. somehow very earnest. you wonder if that’s how his laugh always sounds, whenever gojo’s involved. ”oh, come on. you don’t hate him that much.” a teasing glint blooms in his eyes, as he scrutinizes you. ”or am i wrong?”

you pause. faltering, a little, gaze falling down to the pavement — then to the sky — then to him. and then back to the pavement. 

”… i mean…” you attempt to squeeze the words out from within your chest, but you can’t help but feel hesitant. as if gojo could jump out of the bushes at any moment, ready to tease you if you say anything that paints him in an even moderately decent light. ”i don’t… hate him. but he’s still annoying.” a pout slips onto your lips. “he has it out for me, you know.”

geto laughs, again. you note that you’re fond of the sound. ”isn’t that because he likes you, though? he just doesn’t know how to show it. it’s like pulling pigtails.”

”don’t even joke about that,” you scoff, shooting him a scowl. “and that wouldn’t make it any better, even if it was true.”

a fond smile. ”yeah, you’re right.” he opts to dial down on the teasing, shifting into a more sincere tone. ”you do seem more friendly now, though. before it felt like you really hated his guts.”

a hum buzzes in your throat. brows furrowing, as you mull on what to answer with. unsure how you really feel. it’s not like you’re suddenly super close, or anything — but you have gotten friendlier. just by a smidge, but still. you’ve gotten better at putting up with him and his antics, at finding comfort in how open he can be.

after a tiny pause, you speak up. 

”… i still don’t really understand him.” you gnaw at the skin of your bottom lip, trapping it between your teeth. “but i think i might be starting to.” 

you’re a little embarrassed over the words that fall from your lips, barely above a whisper. 

”… he’s not the worst.”

geto smiles, but you don’t see it — gaze still lingering on the droplets that bounce off the pavement. ”i’m glad,” he hums, earnest. ”that guy needs more friends.”

something about his tone of voice urges you to look at him. that smile of his is bright, gleaming in the rain, in the midst of the flowers all around you. a little teasing, a little boyish, but somehow very sincere. you didn’t think you’d get to see it up close.

and you can’t help but chuckle. the raven-haired boy glances over at you, confusion in his eyes.

noticing it, you breathe out a quiet chuckle. ”sorry, it’s just —” a teasing grin smooths over your lips. ”you guys bicker a lot, and you act like he annoys you… but you really care for him, don’t you?”

this time, geto almost stops in his tracks. his eyes widen, slightly, and you’re not sure why he seems surprised — when he always sounds so fond saying satoru’s name, talking about him like they understand each other fully. maybe he didn’t notice it until now. 

a moment passes, before he collects himself, clearing his throat and averting his gaze. awfully good at keeping his composure. 

(though he fails to fully conceal the flustered look on his face.)

”i wouldn’t go that far,” he mumbles, but it only makes you chuckle again. his lips curl up slightly, at the sound; despite his embarrassment. ”someone’s gotta look out for that idiot.”

”right. of course.”

geto gives you a displeased little look. you bite back a laugh. feeling at ease, by his side — you get the sense that you can trust him, that you could tell him absolutely anything, and he still wouldn't use it against you. it’s a relief.

standing there, under geto’s umbrella, in the shadow of summer, rain obscuring the world — you reach a definitive conclusion.

you want to get to know him. want to see inside his heart, hear more of his thoughts. if you could only step over that gap between you, wriggle your way into his world — 

you think you’d be happy.

so, as you walk side by side, narrowly avoiding puddles and breathing in the humid summer air, you try to coax them out of him. little thoughts, bits and pieces of the suguru geto you yearn to meet.

(unbeknownst to you, he’s doing the same.)

you continue to talk. about miniscule things, meaningless things, a comfortable sensation of trust simmering in the air between you. and before you know it, you’ve stepped onto the school grounds, stopping right in front of the dormitory.

”here we are,” geto hums, folding the umbrella and tucking it between his arm and torso. you turn to look him in the eye, taking an absent step away.

”thanks, geto,” you can’t help but smile. ”for letting me walk with you.”

”don’t mention it.” he brushes you off with ease, quick to drag the door open; waiting for you to step inside before following suit. always so accommodating. 

for a second, he hesitates. a glimmer of uncertainty, in his eyes, that you miss — stretching out your tired limbs with a shallow groan, enjoying the warm and dry air on your skin. 

finally, geto takes the leap.

when he parts his lips, his voice comes out soothing. natural and breathy, floral patterns blooming on his tongue; as silky as jasmine petals. ”you can call me suguru, you know.” he lets the silence linger, for a moment. ”if you want to.”

you turn to look at him, eyes widening, at the sudden offer, and he can’t get a good read on the emotion reflected in them. you seem caught off guard, but he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing.

after a moment or two, you fumble for a response. 

”oh. um — okay? i will, then.” you shake your head, as if brushing off the hesitance you feel, mustering the courage to imitate his offer. ”in that case, you can call me by my first name, too.” 

a brief pause. 

”… if you want to.”

geto smiles. it’s laced with relief, hard to notice, impossible to miss. instead of answering with an affirmation, he takes a more teasing approach — unable to resist the temptation.

so he says your name. your first name, dragging the syllables out on his tongue, as if tasting it. trying to get used to the way the letters bend as they come out of his mouth. despite the teasing lilt it carries, the sound is oddly earnest; he pronounces it clearly, like he’s trying to call you to his side. you almost feel compelled to take a step towards him. 

geto looks you in the eye, as he calls you by your given name, for the very first time — and you can’t help but grow flustered.

”… suguru,” you echo, for whatever reason. you think your brain may be slightly fried. but it feels right, to say it. suguru. 

(what a pretty name.)

suguru smiles at you. you think it’s just a little wider than usual, a little more sincere. almost giddy, if you squint. in the open air, the intimate atmosphere simmers.

finally, you clear your throat, glancing in the direction of your dorm room. a silent que for him to follow.

and he does. leaving the umbrella by the hall, before walking you to your door. his steady, soothing presence sticking to your skin. you’re just about to place your fingers on the doorknob, when a pang of realization hits you — stopping you in your tracks.

”oh — right!”

swiftly, you turn on your heel, facing suguru again. he gazes down at you, bemusement in his eyes. watching as you rummage through the plastic bag hanging off your arm. finally, you find what you were looking for; holding it out towards him. 

”here,” you give him a warm smile. ”as thanks.”

suguru accepts it, compliantly, allowing you to slip a pack of gum into his palm. he recognizes the brand, one he favours over others. it helps him, on days he can’t find his appetite. 

did you see him chewing it at some point, he wonders? when, though? 

maybe you’re always paying attention to the people around you. the way they like their coffee, their favoured flavour of gum. it may be a small kindness, an absentminded one, but suguru thinks that makes it all the more meaningful. a kindness that seeps out of you, that draws him in. 

he wants to know more, about you. he really does.

but for now, this is enough. a walk back to your dorm, your shared home, talking and growing closer than before. 

it’s a small step, but in the right direction. 

the pack of gum stirs a mellow, tender feeling in his chest. all he can do is give you a smile, and a thank you that you’re quick to brush off. then you say your goodbyes, and you close the door behind you — flopping down on your bed with a muffled squeal. a giddy kind of excitement swimming in your veins. because finally, finally, you feel like the gap between you has been dented.

you know what his real laugh sounds like. that the tips of his ears turn pink when he’s embarrassed. you know that he used to wear glasses, that you’re a little more similar than either of you could have assumed.

you know that you’re fond of him. fond of a boy with black hair, who smells of summer and rain and chewing gum. fond of a boy you’ve only scratched the surface of.

on the other side of the door, suguru walks back to his room. with a pep in his step, one that satoru notices — because of course he does — appearing from around the corner with a shit-eating grin.

“oh? what were you doing over there, suguru?”

suguru ignores him. popping a piece of the gum you gave him into his mouth, a flavour of apricot melting on his tongue — he sinks his teeth into it, slowly, feeling his lips curl up into a smile.

it tastes of summer and youth. a memory that both of you will savour, for many years to come.

[alchemistc]

i like your voice in person

Evan's staring at the bed like he's trying to navigate a minefield.

Six months ago that would have sent Tommy on another journey of self-deprecation, a reminder that he'd known Evan wasn't ready for this, known this was a possibility, but Evan, for all his own insecurities, knows what the hell he wants and if he'd felt even an ounce of pressure or remorse up to this point he'd have said something long before now.

Sometimes Evan likes to work it out himself, and sometimes he needs a little nudge, and Tommy watches the head tilt and the angle of his pursed lips for cues as he settles under the sheets.

"Something on your mind?" he prompts, and Evan blinks, like he hadn't realized he'd gotten lost in his thoughts.

"Uh...nothing, maybe."

"Sounds like something, probably."

Evan's smile tilts up at one corner, and he settles on the bed a little stiffly. "It's nothing major. Just. Something I've been thinking about?"

He can feel his brows jumping, can see the way Evan takes in the look with a fond expression. Evan steels himself for something -- they're still muddling through past experiences and learning how to be a bit more intentional in some of their conversations, because they both have a bad habit of reverting to flirting and deflection.

"You remember what we talked about last weekend?"

Tommy can genuinely remember about 93 percent of what he and Evan talk about at any given time, which is an astronomically high number and not at all an exaggeration. He'd be embarrassed about it if he didn't have clear evidence that Evan was as deep into this as he was.

They talk a lot, is the thing, about inconsequential shit just as much (definitely more) than the important stuff. They talk far more than Tommy can remember talking in any other relationship he's been in. But Tommy can pinpoint the exact one he means.

"You mean the roles thing."

Evan hadn't been a stranger to a little daddy talk in bed when they started to explore it, and he'd brought it up right at the start for a reason, but Tommy had taken a while to come around to the realization that Evan had sort of internalized the 'I don't have daddy issues' of it all in a way that Tommy hadn't actually meant it. There'd been little things, here and there; like Evan reaching a door before him and then bashfully waiting with it half open like he'd made a misstep; like twisting his mouth a little funny when he snatched the bill from the table before Tommy could get it. Little things.

Things that, in the abstract, yeah, Tommy liked to do for his partners, but in reality weren't actually that big a deal to him.

He'd needed to clear the air.

Evan nods. Curls a hand around his knee before he shifts his body so that he's facing Tommy. "So, I like taking care of people."

(A conversation, a month ago, Evan grimacing around "My therapist says I have to stop calling myself a people pleaser in a derogatory way.")

Tommy hums, something to remind Evan he's listening.

"And I guess I sort of built up this idea in my head that that was like, a hard stop with you."

("Everyone likes being taken care of sometimes, Evan.")

"And I'm not -- I'm not upset at you, or like, feeling guilty, I just -- I've been thinking about it, and I feel like I forgot to ask you how you wanted to be taken care of."

The thing with Evan is that no matter how often he'll deflect with a joke, when he wants to say something serious he's blunt as hell about it. There might be some hemming and hawing to get there but sometimes he says things that just make Tommy wonder if he'd ever actually learned how to say things before Evan.

"I don't really have a list, babe," he says, and then sort of hates himself for it. Deflect, distract, hey baby how about I blow you about all these big feelings inside my chest I can't articulate.

Evan, though, Evan squinches his eyes and runs a heavy hand through his hair. "I...sort of do?"

"Lay it on me."

Evan grins. "That's actually one of the things on my list."

Tommy blinks. Tries to figure out that trail of thought, but he's coming up with nothing. "Okay, can you expand on that?"

"Like --listen, you know I'm a huge fan of being the little spoon. I'd let someone put screws back in my leg just for continued little spoon privileges. But sometimes I miss being the big spoon, and in my head the idea sounded so stupid to bring up but now I'm wondering if, like, maybe I've just been denying you the joy of being the little spoon?"

Tommy thinks of Evan's hands spread big and warm across his belly, of knees tucked up behind his, warm breath on the back of his neck like when Evan stumbles up behind him in the mornings whining about coffee, and maybe he blue screens a bit because he's never actually dated someone so close to his own size, because there's always been an assumption at the outset that he wouldn't want that.

Alex had been a little too into the same dynamic he'd seen Evan stumbling through, and Colin had hated sleeping with someone's flesh touching his own. Beyond that he hadn't really dated anyone long enough to really form a preference.

Maybe Kara might have been willing, back when he'd been closeted enough to pretend it wasn't an effort to get it up when she had his dick in her mouth, but they'd been young enough that staying the night wasn't really a consideration.

"And like -- listen, I don't necessarily prescribe to gender roles as a thing in general, but a few weekends ago I spent like twenty minutes staring at a bouquet of flowers in Trader Joe's and convinced myself you wouldn't like the gesture so I didn't buy them but you have a few vases in your moms old china cabinet and the moment I remembered them I felt stupid for not buying the flowers."

There's something curling tenderly underneath Tommy's ribcage that he's not sure he's ever felt quite like this before. It's not new, exactly, but it seems to be thrumming particularly hard tonight.

Three months in, Tommy had gotten the man-flu from hell, temperatures so high he'd been grounded and sent packing to rest it off, and he'd texted Evan a jumbled mess of barely discernible things when they'd tucked him into the Uber.

Evan and Bobby had made chicken noodle soup at the station and Hen had sent Evan off with a laundry list of things he could do to help drop the fever, and Tommy had spent the duration sulking and glowering and dragging himself out of bed every time Evan had wanted to change the sheets, to keep Tommy as comfortable as he could, but when Evan had caught it four days later he hadn't hesitated to do all the same shit with gusto. Evan hadn't been particularly grateful either, because neither one of them liked being laid up when the world was out there waiting for them, but he'd at least had the grace to not be an asshole about it.

He had, though. Been grateful. A little awestruck, too, at the mere idea of someone so unafraid of just being there through all the moaning and groaning and hacking and coughing, keeping the tissues from piling up on the bedside table and switching out cold packs to the freezer so he always had one ready in case he wanted it. In the clarity of a full day without fever making his brain feel like cotton candy he'd stared down at a sleepily wheezing Evan and known he could absolutely lose his heart to this man.

"Also I don't want to toot my own horn here but I give excellent foot rubs, and I feel like there's about a million other things I've just been -- holding back from doing?"

"Because of the role thing, or because all your stupid exes told you you were needy?"

It's not a night to pull punches. Also Tommy wants to send thank you cards to every single one of them and attach them to boxes with a bark scorpion inside.

"Both," Evan says without a second of hesitation. His smile crinkles at the corners of his mouth, and Tommy is suddenly annoyed with the space between them. When he holds out his hand to tug Evan into him, Evan melts into it for the space of a moment before he pulls back. "I actually kind of desperately want to be the big spoon right now, if that's something you'd be into." Evan had definitely clocked the look on his face when he'd mentioned it, but he's keyed into the way Tommy checks in and reciprocated in kind since the start of this, so.

Tommy peels his glasses off, snags his bookmark to keep his spot in the monstrosity of the Wrangler maintenance manual he'd stopped being cagey about the fifth time Evan caught him flipping through it, and watches Evan settle comfortably into bed next to him. The problem is, Tommy actually isn't sure where to go from there, which is a ridiculous thought to have because Evan hadn't either and he'd figured it out just fine.

"How do you want me, Buckley?"

The roll of his eyes is so bitchy that Tommy has to remind himself that for all his people pleasing attributes, Evan Buckley is, at heart, a huge fucking brat. Evan tugs and twists and maneuvers his arms and Tommy sort of sinks into it, head tucked in the crook of his shoulder, draping his leg over one of Evan's when he shifts his knee pointedly, a massive, unruly breath escaping Tommy once they're all done shifting.

"You should absolutely try out the rest of your list," he murmurs into the space where Evan's shoulder meets his neck. "Although you don't need to woo me anymore, I'm actually fully wooed."

Lips against his crown, pressed tightly enough that he can feel the smile against his scalp, Evan chuckles. "You don't know how good my wooing is."

The fingers shifting up and down his arm feel somehow different, from this position, even though Evan has done it a hundred times before from the spot he likes to claim with his head right over Tommy's bleeding, three-sizes-too-big-for-him heart. It's ridiculous, and it shouldn't feel any different, but it does. He wants to be greedy with it, soak it in and then never let Evan do this again because he finally understands the appeal and he doesn't want to deprive Evan that.

"This is nicer than I expected."

Evan's soft laugh ruffles his hair, and Tommy wonders if he's dumb enough to ask Eddie how long he should wait before he can reasonably beg Evan to spend the rest of his life with him.

"Save the reviews for when I actually spoon you. It's gonna rock your world." His hand drifts up, fingers digging into the dimple of Tommy's skull.

The hum in his throat has a mind of it's own, going thin and reedy and --

Evan pauses, and Tommy can practically see the gears whirring in his mind, because this is new information.

To both of them, actually, but Tommy doesn't have time to process it because the fingers on the back of his skull spread and sink deeper, just enough pressure to be more than a glancing ruffle, and Tommy can't quite help the way he tilts his head back into it, or the way he hitches his leg to press his groin a little more firmly to the outside of Evan's thigh.

They're both too tired for it to really mean anything -- both off 48's and a fumbled round in the shower while they were already bone weary -- but Tommy wants the reminder for them both when they wake up in the morning.

He can feel his eyes drooping the longer Evan scrubs his fingers against him, and the thought pops into his head as he's drifting off. He doesn't want it to disappear into the fog, though, so he murmurs it into the soft, warm skin of Evan's neck. "I like camellia's. White ones."

Evan hums, and Tommy just knows that the moment he drops off, Evan will be reaching for his phone to google the language of flowers.

[bbydoll18xx]

I Love You (It’s Ruining My Life)

‘I took the miracle move-on drug. The effects were temporary.’

Paige Bueckers x reader 

Themes: yearning, pining, fluff (all the good stuff)

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Nothing beats intense pining and yearning. And a Taylor song to accompany it?? Sign me up but for real my little crush on Paige is getting embarrassing im 23 years old for fucks sake

I'm working on a few requests still but if you have a good idea, send it my way!! Always looking for new ideas. Also I'm thinking about writing for Kate Martin if you guys would be interested...

------------------------------------------------

Your seemingly harmless crush on Paige Bueckers was starting to get a little out of hand. 

It started out simple enough. A friendship was forged from two girls entering college, desperate to prove themselves in their own way. And now here you are, unable to fall asleep without Paige’s clear blue eyes gazing back at you in the darkness of your closed lids. 

You were so fucking screwed.

Your feelings snuck up on you over time, slowly creeping over you until you were fully smothered and unable to breathe without Paige. Yet, at the same time, it was becoming more and more difficult to be around her. You were constantly at war between satisfying the love-sick pull you had towards her and wanting to keep your distance to protect yourself. 

It was becoming embarrassing. The girls of UCONN’s women's basketball team had begun to notice the way your cheeks would ablaze from an innocent stroke of your arm. And they certainly did not miss the way the presence of a tall blonde had you acting like a fucking fool. 

The only one who, to your relief, did not pick up on your bumbling mannerisms, was Paige. She had simply equated your idiosyncrasies to your personality. And that was something you were very thankful for.

You were walking back to your dorm, enjoying the cool autumn breeze flowing through your hair when a warm body plows into you. 

Staggering forward at the sudden force, you look back, eager to yell at the person who just ran into you. Your eyes are met with Paige’s, and she’s grinning like a maniac. Your heart slows once you realize who it is, and you roll your eyes playfully at the blonde’s childish behavior. 

Why did she have to be so damn endearing all the time?

Paige throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in closer to her. You can smell her shampoo, and you fight the urge to lean in more. “Hey, P. What’s up?” You ask, hoping to play off the blush on your face on the effects of the cool air. 

“Just been missin’ you,” she replies. “Me and Aubrey are having the team over tonight. You comin’?” 

As badly as you wanted to, you knew it would not be a good idea. Paige had been partying it up a lot lately. And everytime you were around her, she would hang on you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, her breath hitting your skin in a sinful way. She would cling to you, arms around your waist, pulling you in as if she owned you.

In a sick way, she kind of did. But Paige didn’t need to know that. You were desperately trying to avoid advancing any sort of feelings towards your best friend. 

You gaze up at her, looking into those eyes, wide with hope. It almost made you completely cancel your plans, but you had made a promise to yourself. At the beginning of the new school year, you had told yourself you would try and move on from Paige. And you were starting tonight.

“I have a date,” you profess, trying to keep up an air of confidence.

Paige’s face morphs into a look you couldn’t quite put your finger on. She almost looked annoyed. “Oh. Well, have fun. Stop on by after if you’re up to it.”

You nod, a small, faux smile adorning your face, and you wave bye to her as you head back home. 

~

Music is playing softly in your bathroom as you touch up your makeup. Your date, Ross, was coming to pick you up in 15 minutes, and the butterflies in your belly were swarming horrendously. You desperately wanted to find a way out of the situation, but your crush on Paige was going nowhere if you didn’t open yourself up to other people. That is why you’ve been distracting yourself every weekend with an endless stream of guys who just did not do it for you.

You gather your shoes and your purse before walking into the kitchen. You pour yourself a shot and down it, hissing as it burns its way down your throat. You weren’t the type to casually do shots, but you needed something to calm your nerves. 

Popping a breath mint, so your date didn’t think you were an alcoholic, you straighten your skirt, and you take a deep breath. ‘I look hot. I can do this,’ you affirm. Your thoughts are interrupted by a loud knock on your door. 

Grabbing your belongings, you plaster a smile on your face and open it. You become face-to-face with a tall, dark-haired guy. His smile was heavenly, and his eyes sparkled in a way that had your stomach doing flips. He was the perfect distraction, and in your head, you were applauding yourself. 

You introduce yourself, awkwardly holding out a hand for him to shake.

Chuckling, he grabs it, and with a wink says, “I’m Ross. Nice to formally meet you. You ready to go?” 

His large hand was engulfing yours, and once more today, a blush threatened to shroud your features. You nod and follow him out to his car. You take note of its messiness, but you overlook it. It was not the time to be overly critical. 

As you buckle yourself in, Ross turns on his music, and familiar lyrics come through the stereo system. You giggle at the song. Paige loved this song, and you had heard it so many times, you knew all the lyrics.

The drive goes by quick, to your relief. Ross pulls into the restaurant and backs into a parking spot. He does it with a practiced ease that reminds you of Paige.

Fuck.

You had to stop thinking about her. Your attempts to deter your own feelings were becoming futile, you were realizing, and a sinking feeling started to overtake your consciousness.

~

All throughout dinner, everything Ross did either annoyed you or reminded you of Paige. He was cute; you couldn’t deny that. But he wasn’t Paige. And as time passed, you realized that this was not going to work. 

Trying to get over Paige with guys who made you feel literally nothing was not going to do anything to quell the butterflies in your stomach that Paige gave you when she just smiled. And it certainly was not going to stop the way your heart pounded when she would hug you, hands sliding down your back to rest on your waist with a comfortable weight. 

So when he dropped you back off, you swore off trying to force anything between you and any more random guys that could not hold a candle to what you felt for Paige. It was a harsh reality, but you simply hoped that the crush would fizzle out before things could get weird between you and your best friend.

Glancing at your phone, you notice that the night was still young. Things were probably just ramping up over at Aubrey and Paige’s apartment, and you were so very tempted to head over just so you could be close to Paige. 

Before your voice of reason could take over, you are touching up your makeup and leaving your dorm to head over to Paige’s. There was nothing stopping your lovesick brain from savoring Paige’s drunken affections; you’d deal with consequences in the morning. 

~

Meanwhile, Paige was downing shots, trying to numb the pain of your absence. The girls of the basketball team had noticed her somber spirit, and several girls had huddled in the corner, trying to decipher what was going on with their blonde teammate. 

“Girly pop is gettin’ drunk real fast,” KK observed. 

“For real. Who hurt her?” Ice agrees worriedly. 

“Maybe it has something to do with a certain someone who is out on a date right now…” Nika trails, a smug smirk on her face

Gasps sound from the mouths of the tipsy girls, and knowing looks are shared as realizations come to head. 

“She’s down bad,” Ines giggles, sipping from her cup, and the team agrees, looking over to where Paige is moodily scrolling through her phone on the couch. 

Pressing a finger to her lips, KK sneaks over behind the couch where Paige is moping, and she subtly glances over Paige’s shoulder. Her face morphs into a look of sheer glee, and she runs back to the group with a smug grin on her face. 

“Guess who’s Insta she’s lookin’ through!” KK shrieks, and the other girls erupt with laughter, catching the attention of the aforementioned blonde. 

“Act natural,” Nika shushes, and the girls move away from their gossip circle to avoid suspicion. 

Before the team could give themselves away, you walk into the apartment, immediately locking eyes with Paige. With a shy wave, you walk over to where she was sitting, plopping down on the couch next to her.

“Why are you sitting here all alone?” You ask confusedly. 

Paige shrugs. “How was your date? I’m surprised you’re back already.”

You look down at your hands, fiddling with several of your rings. “He was…I don’t know? Not what I’m looking for, I guess?” You weren’t sure how to explain it. It’s not like you could confess that the real reason you had no desire to ever see Ross, or any other guy again if you were being honest, was because they weren’t Paige. 

“Well, ‘m glad you’re here. Let’s get my pretty girl a drink,” she says, words slightly slurring. She stands up, offering you a hand, and you take it without hesitation. It feels so natural, and you attempt to ignore the warmth in your chest that blooms, threatening to give away your practiced nonchalance. 

You completely miss how the group of girls in the corner erupt in giddy giggles as the two of you walk hand in hand towards the alcohol piled on the kitchen counter.

It doesn’t take you long to catch up to the rest of the people crowded in the apartment, and you’re soon tipsy, dancing around with Aubrey and Azzi. Your hips are swaying seductively to the rhythm of the music, when Paige is suddenly next to you, wrapping a muscular arm around your waist. She brings you closer to her, and through the haze of the alcohol, alarm bells sound in your brain.

You see Aubrey and Azzi share a knowing look as Paige hangs on you, singing the lyrics of the SZA song that was blasting through the apartment. Your cheeks heat up at the contact, and you avoid the gazes of the girls who were sending you smug smirks. 

“Fuck off,” you mouth in their direction. You had been fighting the yearning allegations, and this was not helping your case. 

Looking up at Paige, you notice how her eyes were glazed over, pupils blown wide from the dark room and something else you couldn’t put your finger on. Your stare drops down to her lips, and she runs her tongue across her bottom lip to wet it. Feeling suddenly self-conscious and a bit warm, your eyes quickly dart back up to meet her gaze, and you pull further away from her to seek solace in the kitchen.

Paige furrows her brow in confusion, following you to the kitchen like a lost puppy, where you’ve already seated yourself on the counter top. A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as the distance is created, but it only takes several seconds for Paige to insert herself between your spread legs.

She places a hand on your thigh tentatively, as if she could break you, and peers into your eyes. “What’s wrong, baby?” She questions, her voice cracking as she calls you ‘baby’. 

“Just needed some air,” you mumble, feeling hot again at her proximity. She was so pretty, and her touch was igniting a fire deep inside of you. 

Shit was starting to get dangerous.

Paige cocks her head, and places her other hand on the counter next to where your butt was, caging you in. Your breath quickens, and your head spins. 

Emboldened by your lack of sobriety, you hesitantly lean forward, worried your actions would scare Paige. She mirrors you, searching for a reason not to kiss you. 

You nod your head, and before you can even think about the insanity of the situation you had found yourself in, Paige’s lips were on yours. 

Her lips were soft, and they moved against yours in a sickening fashion, pulling a soft moan from the depths of your throat. Your hands reach up, one cupping her jaw, and the other resting on the back of her neck, pulling her closer into you. Paige’s hand moves to your inner thigh, exposed from the short skirt you wore riding up, and she draws small circles, experimenting with the pressure as she goes. Her other hand moves your waist, bringing you in even closer until your bodies are melded together in the throes of passion and need. 

A whoop sounds through the kitchen, and Paige quickly pulls away to see Aubrey and KK dancing excitedly in the doorway. Your face flushes as you realize you’ve been caught, and you peek over to where Paige is now rubbing a hand across her face, a similar pink hue spreading over it. 

“Knew it,” Aubrey smirks, and she exchanges enthusiastic high fives with KK. 

Paige rolls her eyes at their antics before looking back over to you, still sitting awkwardly on the counter. 

“Let’s go talk in my room,” she mumbles, picking you up and placing you back onto your feet. 

Your heart lurches as she momentarily places her hands on the back of your thighs to help you down, and she leads you to her bedroom, shutting the door quietly.

You go to sit on her bed, thinking of ways to explain yourself for your lustful actions. You could always blame it on the alcohol, but you knew Paige would see right through that. Your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth, gnawing on it out of anxiety when Paige’s voice breaks your incessant worrying. 

“Been waiting for you to kiss me forever, ya know,” she deadpans. She’s trying to hide the grin on her face, as a look of shock engulfs your own. 

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me, P? We could’ve been doing that for the past three years?” You respond, feeling a little less annoyed than the way it was coming off. You were actually fucking elated. 

Paige chuckles, and she comes to sit next to you, brushing a strand of hair over your shoulder. “What was I supposed to do when you were always dating all those random dudes?” She asks, shrugging, attempting to minimize the gravity of the situation.

Your face softens at her vulnerability. “I was trying to distract myself from you, Paigey,” you explain quietly. Paige lets out a small puff of air at the realization, and she leans in to you once more, her breath fanning across your lips. 

“I love you,” you whisper, and she pulls you in, repeating the words as if it was a prayer, over and over again. 

~

Thanks for reading!! I'll hopefully be posting again soon

[satorusugurugurl]

The Leisure Streamer is a Hottie (Chapter Two)

Summary: Rumor had it the top donor of the-strongest-streamers chats get to see him naked! Now that you're the top donor will you get to see the goods or was it just a rumor. Time will tell.

Pairing: Streamer!Gojo x FAB!Reader

Warnings: language, suggestiveness, fluff

A/N: Part two of the highly requested LSIH!! This will probably be a four part series, maybe five IDK yet!! 💚💚💚

Part One

Voices were muffled as someone gently tapped your cheek. Nausea swirled in your stomach as you felt your eyes and eyebrows twitch as you stirred. “Hey! Come on! Wake up!” Suguru? Your new boss was calling your name.

“She saw Gojo’s face; I would pass out too if I had to see his pasty ass.”

“Fuck you, Sukuna.” Satoru snapped as you slowly opened your eyes. “Hey! Good morning!”

As you turned your head towards Gojo’s voice, you blinked slowly, making out his shape. He was standing at the edge of the couch, grinning as he elevated your legs up. Seeing him like that had your face turning red as you glanced around. Having your favorite streamer elevate your legs was the least embarrassing thing that has happened thus far.

Suguru was crotched next to you, and the whole damn shop's employees circled the couch you were lying down on, watching you.

“Yuuji, go grab her a glass of juice.” Geto stands up as Gojo lowers your feet, resting them on the cushions. “Megumi, Nobara, can you make her a sandwich to go with it?”

“On it, boss!”

The trio heads to the kitchen as Gojo hurries to your side, helping you slowly sit up. “I am so sorry.” You utter out, looking up at the six-three man who smiles, bangs falling in his face.

“Please don't apologize; I'm glad I was there to catch you.” He glanced at his phone, grinning wide. “Sorry, I need to take this call, Satoru—” bright blue eyes leave your face for a second, “make sure she eats and drinks the food; it’ll help with nausea.”

“Yes, sir! Have fun on your date!”

“It's not a date! It's just an employee and her boss going out for lunch!”

“Date!”

Suguru flipped Satoru off as he hurried to the back with the other employees. He was leaving you all alone with your favorite streamer in person. The same person you had masturbated with the night before.

“One sandwich and a glass of juice!” Yuuji grinned, handing you a plate.

“Thanks, Yuuji,” Satoru grinned, waving him off before turning his head to you. “You heard Mama-Geto, eat. Then we could talk.”

At least your favorite streamer allowed you to eat your food before talking to you. If you weren’t sitting on the couch and didn’t have some sugar coursing through your veins, you might have passed out for a second time. You were lucky that you didn’t pass out for a second time. You sat there in silence, eating the delicious sandwich that was provided to you by your new boss.

Once Gojo sees that your plate is spotless, crumbs and all he turns to smile at you. He’s so much cuter in person. Which you thought was impossible, seeing that he looked like a freaking God on his live streams. Especially last night when he was stroking his co—.

“Feel better?” Gojo interrupts your reminiscing of the night prior. The way you jump doesn’t go unnoticed. “Easy there, sweetheart. I’m not gonna bite.” He cocks a pristine white eyebrow at you. “That is unless you asked me to. Then I would be happy to bite you.”

“Oh my gosh.” The way you giggle makes Gojo smile wide. Last night, he was speechless when he first saw your face, not the adorable mochi avatar you designed. You were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his entire life. For you to get flustered over him had him swelling with pride.

The stranger you had shared an intimate moment with via WebCam the night before stood up and sat beside you. “Are you feeling okay?” for the first time since you came, there was concern in his eyes.

“I’m fine, I promise. I was just shocked to see you. Who would’ve guessed that we lived in the same town.”

“The world is a small place.”

“It most definitely is.”

Satoru beamed, holding his hand out to you. “Gojo Satoru, it’s nice to meet you!” You smiled wide, grabbing his hand and shaking it, and as your fingers brushed against his, you swear it felt like electricity passed through your fingertips. The sensation was both alarming and comforting at the same time. A strange new sensation that you welcomed.

“So you’re telling me your name isn’t The-strongest-steamer? What a rip-off.”

“Oh! So sorry, mochigurl89! So tell me, do you prefer to go by ‘mochi’ or ‘gurl’?”

“Neither.” In between giggles, you tell him your name; upon hearing it, he gasps dramatically, placing his hand over his heart.

“And here I thought I hit the jackpot! The daughter of some mochi tycoon! I was having dreams about diving into a pool full of mochi.”

“Damn, you must really like mochi.”

Satoru nods his head, “Kikufuku is my favorite! I love the Zunda and cream-flavored ones.” He licked his lips at the mention of his favorite sweet treat.

“Really? I've never tried that kind. Do you know of any cafés that sell it here in Tokyo?”

“It’s a Sendai specialty.”

“Oh, I'll have to try it if I’m ever out there.”

“Hell yeah, are you bus—”

“Gojo!!”

Your favorite streamer stiffened his head, lurching forward as the front door to the coffee shop flung open. Just as he was slowly sinking to the ground, you turned to the source of the voice. A man with blonde hair, neatly brushed, wearing a blue button-down shirt and a cream-colored suit jacket, walked inside. Honey-Brown eyes scanned the area before landing on you.

“Oh, apologies,” The man fixed his yellow and black spotted tie before heading further into the shop, “Geto informed me that Gojo had finally made his way out of his dungeon, but I guess he’s crawled his gremlin ass back down there.”

“Uhhh—”

The man was about to turn and head towards the basement when he heard the floorboards creek under Gojo’s weight as he tried to lay underneath the couch. You weren’t sure how to react or what to do in a situation like this. So you just let it play out, your eyes focused on Gojo’s feeble attempt to hide himself before darting back to the blonde man storming towards the couch.

Satoru’s attempts to hide him under the smallest space of the couch were rendered useless as he saw the stranger's shadow stretch out on the floor below him. With a nervous laugh, he turned to look up at the man who was glaring down at him as the blonde man’s eyebrow twitched.

“N-Nanamin!”

“Do not call me that! What do you think you’re doing? Why have you been ignoring my calls?”

Gojo grumbled before rolling back to try to hide himself underneath the couch. “Because you're gonna lecture me.” Nanamin, which obviously wasn’t his real name from the way he reacted, stepped around the sofa and gently hooked his foot around Satoru’s leg jerking him away from the couch.

“Damn right, I’m going to lecture you! That is my job as your PR manager!”

So, the mysterious man was Gojo’s PR manager. He was typically responsible for handling all sorts of business deals and sponsorships and finding indie games for Gojo to play. You had heard on the Discord servers that his PR manager was amazing. Not only did he make Gojo look amazingly good online, but he also helped pick out games that had blown up because of Gojo. Thus benefiting both the Satoru’s channel and the game designer.

People often praised Gojo for his honest reviews and his support of small creators. It's all because behind every good drama-free streamer was a good PR manager. And from how popular and drama-free Gojo’s channel usually was, the tall man standing before you had much to do with that. You also had heard through the grapevine that being a PR manager was a hassle, and there is no doubt that was true, too, because Gojo’s PR manager looked like he was about ready to commit a federal crime.

“You promised me that you would consider going to San Diego Comic-Con! Mind telling me why I just got an email from the guest board stating that they were sorry that you had declined their offer?!”

“I thought about it and decided I didn’t wanna go. Simple as that, Nanamin!”

“You need to go out there and meet your fans face-to-face. You'll start losing followers if you don’t contribute more to your public appearance.” Satoru pouted like a child, grumbling about Nanamin not being his dad. “You know that I’m right.”

Satoru sat up, groaning as he motioned to himself. “Nanami, what am I supposed to do? Go out on a stage half-naked in my sunglasses?! My followers don’t follow me for the games; as charming as I may be, they follow me because they like watching a half-naked man play leisure games!” The mysterious Nanami released an exasperated groan, rubbing his hands through his hair.

“This is why I keep telling you to do more streams, fully clothed!”

“Again, my followers prefer it when I’m half naked.” Cerulean eyes landed on you as Satoru pushed himself off the ground. “Isn't that right, sweetheart?”

Finally, noticing your presence again, Nanami’s eyes snapped in your direction as Gojo addressed you. For a long second, it looked like he was trying to put together what to say. Before a single syllable could leave his lips, Gojo had his arm draped over his shoulder, pulling him close to his side. The blonde man huffs out a sigh before his shoulders, relaxing the tension leaving his muscles.

“I-I mean, you being half naked is a perk to watching your streams. And I’m just speaking for myself here, but I enjoy watching your reactions and reviews more than looking at your chest.”

Nanami perked up at the bluntness of your words, which left Gojo in shock. “See, perfect example, your fans don’t just see you as eye candy; people watch you because you’re funny, you make your streams enjoyable, and you’re always giving back to the community that has welcomed you so lovingly.” you

For just a second, you thought that maybe Gojo was listening to Nanami, but when he shrugged his shoulders, giving a little ‘eh’ in response, Nanami threw his hands in the air before dropping them to his sides. There was something almost comical, watching them interact with each other; they got under each other's skin. It was quite the dynamic.

“I give up on you; I’m going to put my notice in one of these days because of the headache you constantly leave me with.”

“You would never in a million years, put your never give me your notice.”

“Wanna bet?”

The threat had Satoru sitting up straight, dizzy, cleared his throat, “I’m going to pretend that it didn’t happen, and I’m gonna introduce you to my top donor from last night.” A look of panic plastered over Nanami’s face as he examined you like you were some crazed stalker. “N-No! Look, Suguru needed an artist to help design a new logo for the café! Mochigurl89 just happened to be applying for the job without me knowing.”

“It's true; I am not a stalker.” You held your hand out to Nanami, who took it without hesitation. After introducing yourself, you bowed at the waist. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Nanami Kento, the pleasure is all mine.” His gaze focused back on Satoru. “Now, enough with the distractions, we have work to do. We have to retract the statement you gave to the Comic-Con committee. We must review new trends and games I found for you to play. It’s going to be a hectic day, so I hope you’re ready.”

Being a streamer seemed like a busy job. You were eager to have your meet and greet, but it seemed like Satoru’s day was booked. Since you would be working at the cafe, you could schedule your meet and greet for another day. You pushed yourself off the couch, grabbing your saddlebag off the ground and putting it over your shoulder. Seeing you get up, Gojo’s face fell as he rushed after you, holding your wrist and stopping you in your tracks.

“Wait, please don't go! I owe you a meet and greet!”

“No, it's okay! We can rain check for next time. Nanami seems to have a long day planned for you, and I don’t wanna interrupt that.”

Satoru grumbled, shooting a glare in the direction of his PR manager. For a moment, you could almost hear the wheels turning in his head before his pout transformed into a mischievous smirk. Satoru took several steps before draping his arm over Nanami’s shoulder, pulling him tight against his body. Sensing something was at play, Nanami lowered at his client, eyeing him up and down, waiting to hear whatever excuse came out of his mouth.

“Ya’ know, I thought you said my fans are my biggest priority.”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling through his mouth. “They are a big part of your career, but you can’t just get away with talking and meeting your fans. There is more to this, and you know that.” You shifted again, eyes darting from the exit back to the two men standing in the middle of the coffee shop. It didn’t feel like a conversation you should be involved in, but Satoru had stopped you from leaving. So it wouldn’t hurt to stick around and see what he had planned.

“Right, yes.” Satoru cleared his throat, eyes darting towards the counter of the shop. “You’re so right, Nanami Kento! What would I do without such a great PR manager? Nanami Kento is the best!!”

You were about to ask why he was yelling his name when you watched Nanami’s pale cheeks flush as he glanced toward the counter. “Nanamin!!” Yuuji and another boy practically threw themselves over the counter, rushing toward the taller man. “Nanamin! Hi!” Yuuji’s eyes glittered and gleamed, and he held his fist up in front of him. “Could you show me some new moves the next time we’re at the dojo together?! I practically mastered the ones you showed me before!” another boy wearing a beanie dug through his backpack, holding out a laminated folder towards the older man.

“Ino, what’s th—”

“A report on some of the newest trends! I also compiled a list of games I think would be great for Gojo’s channel! I could help you!”

The two young men crowded Nanami with a big grin, stars practically twinkling in their eyes. Not once did the PR manager look uncomfortable. In fact, he almost looked like he was happy to have two young men interested in conversing with him. You could’ve stood there all day and listened to their enthusiastic chatter, but Satoru grabbed your wrist and yanked you out of the coffee shop while Nanani was distracted by his two pupils.

Gojo was laughing as he looked over his shoulder at you, pulling you closer to him as he ran faster. “Come on! We got a train to catch!” A train? Why in the world did you both have a train to catch? When he said he owed you a meet and greet, you figured you’d probably do it in the comfort of the coffee shop.

“W-Where are we going!?” you laughed aloud as you followed him down the street towards the train station.

An hour and a half later, you got your answer as Satoru placed a bag in front of you. “Kikufuku! Sendai’s specialty and my absolute favorite sweet treat!” He opened the bag and pulled out a small box, placing it in front of you. “Go on! Try one!” You weren’t sure where Gojo was looking, looking through his dark sunglasses and the black mask covering his face so he wasn’t recognized in public. But as he sat in front of you, motioning to the box, you could feel his stare.

You opened the box without hesitation and pulled out one of the emojis that had brought you to Sendai on your spontaneous day trip because Gojo wanted you to try his favorite mochi. You pulled the rice cake out of its wrapper before biting it. It was chewy and soft; the flavor was sweet but earthy simultaneously, a perfect balance to the sweetness. But the whipped cream in the middle had tilted your head back in near orgasmic pleasure. Satoru wasn’t kidding when he said this was his favorite treat. Because honestly, he might have you hooked on it now.

“Oh my god, it’s so good!”

“Right!” Satoru asked, yanking down his mask and placing it on the table's surface, allowing him to eat one of the mochi balls freely. “I’m telling you, it’s the whipped cream in the middle!”

“M-Mmmhmm! It is!”

You both sat there munching on mochi while sipping on your Boba, which you had insisted on buying despite Gojo’s protests. He had been kind enough to buy you a ticket and bring you to Sendai for mochi because of a spur-of-the-moment decision. Who knew your tiny, cute little avatar would end up being the reason you got to go out with your favorite streamer? This was a dream come true, and if it really was a dream, you didn’t want wake up.

Not even twenty-four hours ago, he was a stranger to you, and now you were sitting across from him at a table at a shopping center. You were laughing and talking like you had known each other for years. You guys had just so much in common. The game shows you watched, to a similar taste and sweets. It felt like the meet and greet/day trip with some of the most fun you had had in years. There seemed to be a spark between you two, and it wasn’t because you had lost composure and had masturbated with each other the night before. There was more to it than that.

“Oh my god, that was so good, it hit the spot! And it will be well worth facing Nanami’s rage later.”

Sipping on your boba, you slowly leaned forward, getting closer to Gojo's face. “Is he gonna be mad about you playing hooky with me?” Satoru snorted out a laugh, toying with his face mask.

“Sweetheart, if anyone were going to get in trouble for playing hooky, it would be me. And honestly, it’s not the first time this has happened, and it definitely will be the last.”

“Oh, so do you take all your meet and greets to Sendai for mochi?”

“No, just the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. Someone who has stolen my breath away and has been on my mind since we signed off our call last night.” You looked away momentarily with burning cheeks before slowly glancing back toward Satoru. “I’m being serious. I cannot stop thinking about last night.”

Last night was one of the most unforgettable nights of your life. You were used to having okay days or bad days ever since your ex broke up with you. Since then, you have felt stuck in the never-ending cycle of mundane days. You were going to school, working on commissions, and watching your favorite streamers in your free time. Two great back-to-back days felt weird, but you gladly welcomed the change.

“I can't stop thinking about it either.”

“I’m going to be truthfully honest with you. I have never done anything like that in my entire career, let alone my entire life.”

“That makes two of us then.”

“Would it be awkward if I said I wanted this meet and greet to be more like a first date?”

Satoru’s words had you inhaling sharply, mid-suck on your boba. So ungracefully, you choked on the tapioca balls, sending milk tea spurting out of your nose as you coughed roughly. Satoru stared at you for a long minute, cerulean eyes going wide before he clamped his hand over his mouth. While you tried to find a shred of dignity, the white-haired man in front of you shook, his face red.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” You warned as Satoru’s face turned redder. Despite your warning, Satoru threw his head back, roaring with laughter. He smacked his hand against the table while tears flooded his eyes.

Being mad at him for laughing at your pain was hard when he looked so pretty. There was only one other thing for you to do. You laughed with him. With your laughter joining his, Satoru laughed harder, leaning his head forward, white locks hiding his face while you wiped up your mess with a napkin.

“Oh my god, oh fuck! I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time!”

“Yeah? I’m glad my suffering could entertain you.” You teased, winning a wide grin in return.

“I was going to say something inappropriate, but I don’t wanna ruin the moment.”

Already having an idea of what he would say. “First date and I’m choking on balls?” The only sound of laughter is your own. Feeling as though you made it awkward, you give him an apologetic smile, only to see the flushed cheeks and gentle grin Satoru is giving you.

“So it is a date?”

“I-I guess it is, yes.”

“Would you be uncomfortable if we take this back to my place?”

Darting your tongue out you lick the sweet traces of milk tea up. “Ooor~ there’s a love hotel just down the road.” Satoru’s eyes widened as he stood up packing the bag before grabbing your hand.

“Let’s go!” Both of you hurried out of the shopping center, completely unaware that Gojo’s mask was left behind.

LSIAH Tag List (AGE MUST BE IN BIO):

@witchbybirth @zoeyflower @missmuffinr @kalulakunundrum

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks

[kokomyass]

JJK Characters ☆ That time of the month...

JJK x Fem!Reader

Genre: ☁️

Trigger warnings ⚠️: swearing, crack

featuring: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna

synopsis: in which, the jjk men are out buying you supplies for your period, some with more experience that others....

notes!: in sukuna's part, he is true form and has like a kinda palace thing going on yk....

a/n: thought of this idea, liked it and wrote it!!! I hope you enjoy 💜🍇💜🍇

~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~

Gojo

"Heyyy babe....so about those pads you wanted me to buy....you kinda failed to tell me that there are pads for every colour of the fucking rainbow!"

You had to use all your will power in you to not start laughing at Satoru through the phone, which would consequently lead him to hold a grudge.

"Satoru, I told you to get the ultra maxi pads with wings, remember? How difficult is that?" you nagged as you heard a frustrated groan through the phone.

"Well which colour is that? Cause there's no way I'm reading allat-"

"Gojo!!" you didn't usually call him by his first name it was an easy way to show your annoyance.

"Okay sorry!! Well, Y/N, there are like 5 different ultra maxi pads! How the hell am I meant to know which-"

"Satoru, with wings."

You heard the line go silent as you heard rustling assuming he had picked the pad up.

"So...um I found it....I'm gonna get myself out of this aisle because thanks to you I embarrassed myself in front of all these experienced women."

All you can do is giggle at Gojo's dramatic ass.

Nanami

You hear the door to your house open as you lay in bed curled over from the pain your cramps are giving you.

You hear your husbands soft footstep approach your bed as you open your eyes slightly to see him bent over cupping your face careful not to wake you up to violently.

"Hello sweetheart, how are you feeling?" you hear his deep, smooth voice whisper out.

"Well...I feel like shit, but now that your here I wanna cuddle with you. It'll make me feel better."

Nanami chuckles as he sat on the bed, extending his arm out to let you cuddle with him.

"Just to let you know, I went out to buy some night and day pads, tampons just in case your in the mood to use them and your favourite snacks to keep you going. They are all here if you need." Nanami said, as he gently brushed your hair as he felt you squeeze tighter.

Nanami looked down as he heard sniffling later realising you were crying after looking down at your face.

"Honey what's wrong? Did I miss something?" Nanami's heart dropped.

"No, the absolute opposite. You always get everything right. Nanami, have I ever told you how madly I am in love with you?"

"Frequently."

Geto

You had sent Geto out to do some period shopping and by that you meant shopping for pads/tampons and snacks.

When you were on your period, you were EXTREMELY snappy and emotional. This time of the month was one Geto feared all the time. One small thing could make you flip out.

"Hey babe! I'm home!"

You were sat on the couch wrapped in blankets as you watched TV.

"I got your stuff babe, snacks, pads and all..." Geto placed a kiss on your head before sitting next you. You took the bag from him searching for your favourite sweets.

"Thank yo-...Where are my skittles, Geto?"

Geto's heart dropped. He had completely forgotten to buy that and he regretted his life choices, but it was too late because you had already started crying.

"Ughh, I really wanted those skittles...why do you always forget Geto!" you sobbed angrily as Geto pulled you apologising profusely.

"I'll go out and buy more baby....I'm sorry...."

"NO. I WON'T WANT THEM ANYMORE!" you shouted at Geto as you stood up angrily walking to you bedroom as Geto sighed letting his head fall back on the couch, choosing to let you come to him in your own time.

Time Skip

You had guiltily shuffled out of the bedroom and sat next to Geto leaning into him as he let out a sigh of relief.

"So, you feeling better??"

"Yeah, sorry babe....I overreacted. My favourite sweet isn't even skittles..."

Toji

"So babe, what size is your pussy again?"

Toji was a man with no shame and clearly no brain. He went out to get pads for you forgetting to ask what type you needed.

"Wh- Toji!! How many people are in that aisle!?" You heard Toji chuckle at your very valid question, given what he had just said.

"Princess, listen, that doesn't matter right now. Just tell me your fucking pussy size."

Before you could scold Toji and maybe educate him you heard another woman's voice through the phone.

"Um sir, just to let you know you are rather loud...and pad sizes are based on the amount of flow not-"

"Did I ask?" Toji spat.

The woman's mouth shut as she spluttered trying to say something back before Toji diverted his attention back to you.

"There is like ultra large....do you want that cause I know how big-"

"Toji don't you dare finish that sentence. Just get me large ones please...and for the record it is based on your flow, so you had no right shut that poor woman down like that."

"I call it what I want to call it, and that's pussy size."

Choso

You currently had a stuttering Choso on the phone who was clearly pretending he wasn't embarrassed.

You had sent him out to get some snacks, hinting that it was your time of the month but you didn't ask him to get pads or tampons fearing it would be too much for him to handle.

"So....um...Y/N, do you....erm do you want me-"

"Choso, baby, please spit it out." you giggled at how flustered he was as it wasn't a common occurrence.

"Do you need...pads...?" he whispered the last bit so you could barely hear.

"What was that?"

"...pads...." you had made out that he said pads.

You let out a loud laughter that could be heard through the phone, shown by the fact Choso was hushing you.

"Y/N, stop laughing! Yes or no? If yes, what type?" you could tell he was trying to be vague.

"Choso you are so cute, yes I would like some please can I have some night pads? I have enough days ones."

"Okay! I got this....okay see you and love you!!" he cut the phone after chanting to himself that he had the power to pick one product off an aisle.

All you could do was chuckle and feel warm at how much he cared for you...even if it was embarrassing for him....

Sukuna

You were giving Sukuna his daily massage in his throne room despite your cramps from your period. You didn't want to tell Sukuna that you were on your period because whenever you did he became a bit too overprotective in a murderous way....

However the cramps were unbearable.

"My Lord...May I be seated?" Sukuna's head whipped around and looked up and down your body before nodding slightly, tapping his leg indicating for you to sit there.

You sat down on Sukuna's crossed legs resting your head on his broad chest as you sighed squinting your eyes at the pain.

Two of Sukuna's arms were wrapped around your waist whilst the other two were on the floor. He tighten his grip on your waist as if he knew you were experiencing pain.

Suddenly a sharp knock was heard at the door.

"You may enter." Sukuna's gruff voice sounded out.

"I have the pads and tampons and foods you requested, Lord Sukuna." Uraume entered with a box placing them at your feet. Leaving promptly.

"It is your time of the month, is it not?"

You eyes widened as you looked back at him to see him looking down at you.

"Y-Yes my lord...how did you know?"

"I keep track in my own manner." you didn't even bother to ask how that was.

You knew Sukuna wasn't exactly the loving type, but you couldn't help but wrap your arms around his neck.

"Thank you, my Lord!" he places one of his hands on your back not saying a word just letting out a huff. After a while he mumbles out.

"It's alright woman...."

~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~

a/n: I hope that was good and all those true form sukuna fans out there hmu 😜

love you!! 🍇💜🍇💜

[hydriko]

THE BOY IS MINE.

jealousy trope but beach version : kuroo tetsuro x reader

genres / warnings : fem reader, jealous kuroo, creepy men, aged up characters, fluffy, established relationship, cursing (lmk if I missed anything!)

notes : hey everyone back at it again writing because its the one thing I can manage to do

Kuroo never seemed like the jealous type, at least you’d never experienced it first hand. He was typically laidback when you went out, but maybe that was because he never left your side and stared down any guy who even looked your direction.

But now that summer had arrived, temperatures spiking and attire requiring to be a little more revealing—something felt a little different.

You two were at the beach, and the swimsuit you wore was more or less skin-showing (as most bikinis are). You sunbathed while Kuroo went to go to the bathroom and do his thing, seagulls infesting the waters and the sound of the waves practically lulling you to sleep.

Sitting up, you decided to look for Kuroo. He was supposed to be taking a bathroom break, but he was taking an awful long time. You made your way towards a bathrooms, deciding to wait outside of the stalls. Before you could wait in peace, though, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Hey, sweetheart,” A deeper voice came from behind you, practically making your soul jump from your body. You whipped your head around, coming face-to-face with a man who was at least twice your age.

“I noticed you from over there,” He began, gesturing to a beachside bar behind him, “Couldn’t help but come over here and shoot my shot.” He held a martini in his hand, signifying that he was intoxicated—not that it made it any better.

The way he spoke offset you a bit, confidence and lust laced within his scruffy voice that just made your stomach queasy. You looked around, desperate for Kuroo to show up and save you from this weird man.

“What, cat got your tongue? Or are you just enjoying the view?” He smirked, flexing his nonexistent muscles to try and show off.

“Uhm, no. You look old enough to be my dad. Plus, I have a boyfriend.” You quipped, grimacing as you thought about his statement. You watched his face fall, unable to tell what he would do next.

“He doesn’t have to know…c’mon, doll, let’s go have some fun—” You felt an arm wrap around your waist, the sound of your boyfriends voice allowing you to let out a breath you had no idea you were holding.

“Hey, baby, who’s this?” Kuroo asked, leaning down to peck your cheek as his eyes shot daggers at the man. You looked up at him, shrugging and hoping he’d be able to tell that you were uncomfortable.

“This is the boyfriend? What a shame, I could treat you be—”You watched the man move closer, reaching out a hand to touch your shoulder.

“Alright, old man, back the fuck up,” Kuroo’s hand swatted away the other guy’s, his demeanor changing entirely. “Don’t you know that no means no?”

The older man put his hands into the air defensively, taking a step back with a surprised look on his face. “Woah there, bud, let’s calm down—”

“I’ll calm down when you leave my girlfriend alone,” Kuroo snapped back, pulling you closer to him. You silently watched, completely frozen and unsure what to do. Good thing you had a boyfriend who could handle shit like this.

Relief washed over you as the older man scoffed, walking back over to the bar to wallow in his embarrassment. Kuroo turned to you, a softer, more gentle look on his face. “You okay?”

You nodded, smiling as you began walking back to your stuff. “You handled that well,” You hummed, lying back down onto your towel. It was admirable, really, and you were glad you could see that side of him.

“Of course I did, I’m not gonna let some creep steal my beautiful girlfriend from me.” He folded his arms over his chest, the pout on his face making you laugh. He laid beside you, putting his hands behind his head.

You rolled over onto your stomach, resting your chin on your palm as you gave him a loving gaze. “I love you,” You mumbled after a moment of silence, reaching out to brush a tuft of hair from his face.

“I love you more,” He smiled, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it.

[dixons-sunshine]

Study Buddy | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: Your exams were coming up soon. While studying for your history exam, you offered to tutor your boyfriend. However, Daryl accidentally revealed that he's much smarter at school than he gave himself credit for.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 1.3k.

A/n: This sucks. I don't like this at all, but I really wanted to get some actual writing done, so I powered through. I hope you like this nonetheless.

The late afternoon sun was starting its slow descend beyond the hills. The birds' chirps were slowly being replaced by those of crickets, and the owls were making their presence known one by one. There was a lone pigeon resting on the bench outside your trailer home, but the unsuspecting creature was startled by the rumbling of a stopping truck.

Daryl Dixon got out of the truck his brother had unofficially given him, a shopping bag with multiple snacks and a few drinks in his hand. He slammed the driver's side door shut behind him before walking up the small steps into your trailer. Without even really thinking about it, Daryl walked down the familiar narrow hallway that lead to your room.

The sound of your door opening diverted your attention away from the history textbook that rested on your bed. An enormous smile spread across your face at the sight of your handsome boyfriend. You got up from the bed and walked over to him, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a soft, tender kiss.

Daryl, shy as ever, could feel his face heat up at your actions, but he didn't resist. His hand that wasn't holding the bag rested on the small of your back, his fingers lightly gripping at your sweater. When you pulled back, he gave you a lopsided smile, his eyes holding a softness that he reserved only for you.

You smiled at him, your fingers playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. “Hey, handsome,” you greeted him in a whisper. “Took you long enough.”

Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “Sorry, sunshine. Got caught up at the store,” he explained, pulling back from your hold slightly to reach into the bag and take out a soda for you. “Got yer favourite for ya.”

You gently took the drink from his hands, sending him a look of appreciation. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment, his cheeks taking on the colour of the red rose bush outside your window. “Ya might've mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well,” you began, popping the lid of the can open. “Then I definitely don't tell you that enough. I love you, Dar.”

“Love ya too, peach.” Daryl smiled a small smile, before moving to plop down on your bed. He picked up the textbook that rested on your bed and started flipping through it, his eyes skimming over the pages. “Ya already started studyin'?”

You sat down next to him, placing the can of soda on your nightstand. “Only to make flashcards.” To prove your point, you picked up the aforementioned flashcards from your nightstand. “I was just skimming through for good measure. Just wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything important.” You made yourself more comfortable on the bed, adjusting the flashcards. “You ready to get some studying done?”

Daryl nodded. “How's this gon' work?” he asked.

“Well, I wanna see how much you know, so I'm gonna start asking random questions to see what we need to pay special attention to.”

“Alrigh',” Daryl shrugged nonchalantly. “Do yer worst.”

You smirked playfully. “I'll try my best.” You shuffled the cards, selecting a random one. “Okay, let's start easy. When did the Second World War start?”

“September 1st, 1939. Tha's when it was generally considered to have started. S'when the Nazi's invaded Poland,” Daryl replied with zero hesitation, absentmindedly twirling one of the loose threads on your blanket. “The UK and France officially declared war on the third, two days after the invasion.”

You looked at your boyfriend with raised eyebrows, impressed by the way he answered the question so easily and proceeded to answer two separate questions without being asked to do so. You knew Daryl was smart, there was no doubt about that, but you were still a bit surprised. Daryl made it no secret to you that he wasn't the best student, so his perfect answer to the question was a nice surprise.

“Correct,” you told him with a smile. “Next question: How many alliances were there in the Second World War, and what were they called?”

Daryl pondered over the question for a moment. “Two. The Allies and the Axis Powers, right?”

You flipped the flashcard over and read the answer, humming in approval. “Correct again. You're on a roll, Dar.”

Daryl shook his head, shrugging nonchalantly. “Ya ain't askin' any hard questions. Everybody knows the answers to those.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully, shuffling through the flashcards again to find a different question. “Okay, then, smart guy. How about this one: Which cities did the United States detonate atomic bombs over?”

“Nagasaki and Hiroshima. Two cities in Japan. The bombs were dropped on August 6th and August 9th. The US wanted to force the Japanese to surrender.”

“Okay, time out,” you started, carelessly tossing the flashcards to the side. “Please tell me again how you're not smart? Because those were perfect answers and you haven't even read through the textbook yet.”

Daryl shrugged again, averting his eyes to the bed. “Ain't smart. Jus' heard the teacher talkin' 'bout it in class. Ain't tha' hard to remember it. 'Sides, history is interestin'. S'the only class I dun' mind attendin'.”

You laughed in disbelief, looking at your boyfriend in wonder. “You manage to find a way to surprise me every day. I thought I knew everything about you, and now I learn something new. You're a history nerd.”

Daryl scoffed incredulously. “Ain't no damn nerd. Jus' 'cause I know some history doesn't mean m'a nerd.”

“Sure,” you started, sending him a playful smile. “So I know a lot about science and I get called a nerd by you, but you know a lot about history and I can't call you a nerd?”

“Damn straight,” Daryl replied, his tone playful. “Yer a nerd. Tha's one of the many reasons why I fell fer ya.”

“I love you, too, Mr I-know-that-Hitler-was-born-on-the-30th-of-April.”

“He was born on the 20th. He shot himself on the 30th, ten days after his birthday.” You smirked, and Daryl instantly knew that he had fallen into your trap. “Oh, fuck ya fer tha'.”

“My point has been proven,” you said with a victorious smile, leaning forward to let your lips hover over Daryl's. “No need to be ashamed of being a nerd. I find it extremely hot.”

Daryl hummed, his lips grazing against yours. “Ya find it hot tha' I know 'bout the world war? Then yer gon' find it really hot when we get to the Cold War.”

“Colour me intrigued,” you whispered, before closing the gap between the two of you.

Daryl's lips moved against yours hungrily. Soon, he gently guided you to lay on your back, hovering over you as his lips trailed down your jaw to your neck. You giggled, leaning your head back to allow him more access.

“You might be really smart in history, Dar, but I'm not. I need to study,” you told him.

Daryl hummed, but his kisses didn't cease. “Ya'll be fine,” he mumbled against your skin. “'Sides, we got a human anatomy exam comin' up soon. I suck at tha'. I need to get some studyin' done fer tha'.”

You laughed lightly, yielding to the desire. Well, studying would just have to wait. You had other, much more fun activities planned for the time being.

[ddejavvu]

hi mei, i was curious if you could write about reader hiding like their childhood stuffed animal or comfort item like a baby blanket from maybe hotch or peter parker the first time they come over cuz they r embarrassed

this is not age regression shit, just to justify LOL

this works with any peter (hopefully) - the first time my bf came into my room i hurled my decrepit old childhood teddy bear into a corner and when he left i grabbed him like i'm so sorry man i couldn't let him know about you and me.

It's a testament to Peter's natural curiosity that you've been sprawled out over your bed for twenty minutes and he hasn't taken the bait and kissed you yet. Instead he's walking around your room inspecting every nook and cranny, peering into picture frames and opening drawers to paw through their contents.

"Peter!" You laugh, watching him duck beneath your desk, "The only things under there are cords; what are you doing?"

"I'm just looking around!" He insists, "My aunt always tells me you can find a lot out about a person by the space they keep."

"Oh? What are you finding out about me?"

"You have terrible cable management," His nose wrinkles as he ducks out from beneath your desk, "But that's better than what May says about me. She says my room tells her that I'm a pig person with no standards for cleanliness."

"Ouch," You snicker, "May doesn't hold back, does she?"

"Never," Peter grins, and does a final lap around your room before finally succumbing to the call of your mattress. He flattens himself out beside you and sighs, "Your room is boring."

"Hey!" You jab him in the ribs, "What do you mean?"

"I mean it's so clean!" He groans, rubbing his side, "There's no- there's no personality here, there's no trash on the desk, there's no clothes on the ground, there's no comfort blanket on the bed."

"I don't have a comfort blanket," Your cheeks rouge, and Peter zeroes in on it with an eagle's eye.

"Yes you do," He accuses, leaning up on one hand to tower over you, "Where is it? Show me!"

"It's not a blanket!" You insist, but you've implicated yourself, "It's- it's a teddy bear, okay? And I put him away because he's... fragile."

"Mhm. Fragile." Peter nods, "I'll be careful. Show me."

"He's kind of hard to get to."

"Show me."

"He's- uh, he's falling apart, too, not pretty to look at."

"Show me."

"He needs to be washed."

"Show me."

"No!"

"Come on!" Peter groans, "I'm not gonna make fun of you! I've got a stuffed animal too."

Your glare is perhaps made less effective by the way that your cheeks are on fire. Peter isn't deterred in the slightest, and the second you grumble, 'He's under the bed,' Peter's swinging himself over the side and jamming a hand beneath it.

"Got him," Peter laughs, peering at the plushie that he's dragged from beneath the bed, "This is your special one?"

"Mhm," You nod, watching warily as Peter surveys him, "Like I said, he's- he's kind of worn out and he needs to be washed, and-"

"He's great." Peter smiles, tucking the bear to his chest as he gazes fondly up at you, disarming the nerves bundled tightly in your chest, "You can meet mine the next time you come to my place."

[samandcolbyownme]

can write smth where y/n had never fingered herself and colby teaches her how to.

I Will Teach You | Colby Brock

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, biting, scratching, hair pulling, praising, pet names, masterbation, fingering, general filth

Enjoy!

You glanced over at Colby, who is sitting at his desk going over footage, from his bed. Your eyes stay on him for a few seconds, smirking when he looks over at you.

“What?” He asks with a smile, kind of getting shy.

You shake your head, adjusting your body slightly, “Nothing.” Colby tilts his head, giving you a smirk, “It’s something.”

He takes his headphones off completely and sets them down, along with his glasses before coming over and plopping down behind you, half his body on yours.

You laugh slightly as his arm goes over your waist and pulls you back, “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” You procrastinate and Colby groans, “C’mon mama. Tell me.”

“Okay.” You let out a sigh as you roll over to face him, “I just.. kinda wish you were…” you look up at him, lowering your voice on the last few words, “..touching me inappropriately right now.”

He raises his brows, taking in a deep breath as he nods, “Ohhh.” He smirks, “I see.” He bites his bottom lip and rubs your hip, “so that’s what’s going on, my girl needs some attention, huh?”

His hand slides down and you lift your leg, letting him place his hand on your thigh before you lay it back down, “I do.”

Colby leans up slightly, “I’ll help you out, but I want to try something first.” He gives your thigh a gently squeeze, “But only if you want to.”

You nod, “What is it?”

Colby leans in, his voice in a whisper, “I want to watch you touch yourself for me.” He presses his lips to yours and you can feel your heart starting to beat faster, fuck this is embarrassing.

“U-um, Colby I-“

He leans back, “Totally okay, baby.” He pecks your forehead and you laugh nervously, “It-it’s not..” you sit up, turning towards him fully, “Oh my god this is embarrassing.”

Colby looks at you with both concern and confusion, “I’m not.. following. What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never.. um..”

“Never what?”

“I’ve never, fingered myself before.” You sigh, “Okay. I know. It’s incredibly embarrassing and I d-“

“Whoa. Hey. Slow down.” Colby laughs slightly, “There’s nothing wrong with that. Just means I get to teach you.”

His brows raise quickly and you tilt your head, “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that, but I like it.” You smirk and lay back, watching as Colby slips off his sweatshirt before you pull him to you.

He moves his body to hover over yours, kissing your lips as his hands go up your shirt to find your boobs, “Take your pants off for me.”

Colby sits up, moving off of your legs to watch you. His cock growing harder with each inch of skin you reveal from under your sweats.

“Now..” Colby moves up by your head, arm laying over the pillows, “Come up here.”

You sit up, taking off your shirt before you move up, resting your neck on his arm. His hand slides up your leg, gripping your knee before he pulls it outward, “I’m going to have you feeling good in no time.”

He nods down, “Have you done anything before?”

You shake your head, “Well, okay. I did try one time but I just couldn’t get the angle right or something? I don’t know. I just mainly focus on the clit..”

He nods, “Alright, we’ll start there.” He picks up your hand and guides it down to your clit, “You can do whatever feels good to you.”

You start to move your hand on your own, lips parting as pleasure grows.

“That feel good?” Colby whispers and you nod, “Uh huh.” He kisses up the side of your face, turning his head to rest against his cheek against your temple, “Fuck, baby. Now, you can either do one or two, depending on how you feel, and just slide them down in.”

“Can you show me?” You whisper, cheeks turning red, “just so I can-“

Colby leans his head away, looking down at you as he nods, “Of course I can, baby.” He slides his hand down your arm, lifting it to move your hand out of the way, “Sit up a little bit…”

You sit up slightly, moving back more so you can rest against the headboard, “yeah, there you go. Alright. Now you be as slow or as fast as you want, I’ll go slow just so you can see.”

You nod, chewing on your lip as you stare down, watching, and feeling, Colby’s fingers slide up and down your folds, “Foreplay, my love. Is key.”

You look over at him, but quickly return your gaze to between your legs. Your mouth falls open, a moan slipping as Colby slides one finger into you.

“You might have to work to find your angles that make you feel the best, but..” Colby curls his finger up, making your hips roll as you moan. He smirks, “You wanna give it a try, now?”

You slide your hand down, watching as Colby’s finger slowly comes out of your pussy, to which you slide your finger in almost immediately.

Your fingers weren’t as big at Colby’s, so you didn’t get the full pleasure like you did with him, but you definitely got some.

You whimper as you curl your finger, freezing as you slowly slide in your pointer finger next to your middle.

“There you go, baby. Fuck that’s it, shit.” Colby watches your fingers slide in and out, “Doing so good for me.”

After a few minutes of your fingers going in and out and curling, Colby leans down, taking your one nipple into his mouth.

You groan loudly and buck your hips, “C-Colby.. baby, please.”

“Please what?” He whispers as he lifts his head, “Are you feeling close?” Colby’s fingers slip in, pressing hard circles onto your clit.

You nod and he speeds up his circles, “Cum for me.”

You take over rubbing the circles with your own hand, twisting your hips towards Colby as your fingers work hard to bring yourself to where you need to be.

“Fuck, look at you.” He groans as his hand slides down to the bend in your knee, holding your leg up as he watches, “I know you want to cum, baby.”

“Look at how wet you are, sweetheart.”

“I can’t wait to taste you.”

Moans fall from your lips with his praising words, gasping as you squeeze your legs together, guiding yourself through your high.

Breathing heavy, you look down at your hand slowly withdrawing from between your legs. Colby grabs your hand, immediately putting your two fingers into his mouth to which you gasp. You start clenching around nothing as the scene turned you on all over again.

Colby tilts his head back, licking his lips as he smiles, “Now it’s my turn.”

——

I hope you liked this! Kinda short in my opinion, but I can always add to it later! Thank you for reading and remember that I love ya’s! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[almightygremlinblob]

A Honey Trap For The Butterfly

Nanami Kento was everything you needed in a therapist, only as long as you ignored the sinking feeling in your gut.

Even tho there's nothing describing the act of s*x here, it's still a yandere fic - so minors and those not comfy with yandere stuff DNI and have a nice day! 🫶🏽

Word Count: (will update when life stops life-ing lmao)

⚠️Content Warnings⚠️: UNBETA'D, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Yandere!Therapist Nanami Kento, Gender!Neutral Reader (and no bits mentioned), Modern!AU, Hurt/Comfort, Soft Yandere, behaviour that SHOULD NOT be tolerated irl, Nanami says some very comforting shit to manipulate you, no curses.

⚠️Further Content Warnings⚠️️: Unhealthy power dynamics, HEAVY and subtle emotional manipulation, implied stalking, mention of sexual activities, professional boundaries are OUT the window.

When your gut tells you something is wrong, one tends not to believe it at first, and this causes you to dismiss any further warnings.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Sorry, I-I'm just..."

"There's no need to push. Only if you're ready."

"No, I-I'd like to."

Therapy was a tricky thing. There was the problem of getting the right medication for you. There was also the problem of finding the right therapist for you. Which is why some people - like you - search for a very a long time until you finally found one that clicked. Nanami Kento, who was practically everything you needed in a therapist.

"The nightmares are about your family, yes? They say nightmares are ways for the mind to release overwhelming emotions. Can you tell me more about them?"

"Y-yes, I...these nightmares are always the same. My family talking about me behind my back, it's...I feel alienated."

"Hm...it's no wonder these nightmares always coincide with upcoming family gatherings." He scribbles something down, and turns his full attention towards you. "If you're okay with sharing, what makes you think they're alienating you?"

"I...now that you mention it Doctor, it does seem to coincide, but...I-I don't believe I've mentioned...how did you-"

"Ah, it's just an observation." He waves his hand dismissively. "And I told you, you can call me Kento."

-------

"I-I'm so sorry!" You apologize profusely, embarrassed and just a little defeated when you turn up short at the cashier of your favorite coffee shop. There's a brisk walk, and someone familiar drops some change at the cashier for you. Though being payed for was a surprise, the person paying was not. It was Nanami, who you seemed to run into a lot. So much, that bumping into your therapist outside of your sessions was almost the norm. Something about living nearby.

"Oh, Doctor, I-I'm really sorry about this!"

"Oh don't fret, it was only a few bucks." He offers his hand. "Come, sit with me."

You're taken aback. It's not like you didn't WANT to. Nanami was a very attractive man; well built, broad shoulders, and such a handsome face. But, still, he was your therapist. There is a very faint alarm, all the way at the back of your mind, that makes you feel just a little bit uneasy at the proposal.

"A-are you sure this...I mean, i-is this okay?"

"Of course." When he intertwines his fingers with yours, his face and eyes and words are completely welcoming. Laced with nothing but care in order to hide the ugly side just waiting to devour you.

"It's just coffee."

-------

"I think last session was a very eventful one. You did a lot well this week. I'm quite proud of you." He says and hands you the paper for your medications. His warm and strong hands linger on top of yours. "See you for lunch after?"

-------

"I just can't believe they'd do that to me..." You try and keep yourself from crying any more. "They're my family. I shouldn't have to cut them off like this!"

"Hey, hey...I know it doesn't seem like it, but you made the right choice." Nanami gently cups your face with his hand. "I'm proud of you."

"It's okay. You'll be okay." His eyes go over to your lips, as he tilts your head to better align with his. The room suddenly feels awfully quiet, too constricting, when his lips meet yours.

-------

"I think I've come a long way." You sigh and laugh softly. "I'd like to celebrate but...I-I'm not sure how. I'd like to minimize my spending..."

"Well, I'd have to agree, you ARE making fantastic progress." He takes your hand in his. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to celebrate it with you. I have a few ideas we could try."

"Oh, of course!"

"Date night." He brings your knuckles to his lips. "Your apartment."

Nanami stayed over that night. Worshipped your body as if he was made for it. He was a wonderful lover but, the entire experience left you feeling wrong, somehow.

-------

"I don't know what to feel...I just...they're all dead. My family, they're all..." It was all too much, and Nanami wraps his arms around you. "I know what they did but, still, I..."

"Oh, love...it's okay. Let me handle everything; planning, funeral expenses. Everything."

"Kento, that...that's too much-"

"Nothing in the world is too much for you, my dear." He holds your face when you start to cry again. "I would do anything for you."

When he looks at you, his eyes show a devotion and adoration so strong it borders insanity. You'd never expect this 'gentle giant' to be the one that caused your family's deaths. It was nothing you've ever seen from him, and it unsettles you.

"Anything. You know that, right?" He seals it with kiss on the lips, just a bit too harsh, just a bit too possessive. "Stay here, with me - where you belong. Don't worry anymore."

"You're home now."

When your gut tells you something is wrong, one tends not to believe it at first, and this causes you to dismiss any further warnings. It is just one of the many ways that humans self-sabotage. Though, for many manipulators, the intention is to make their victim do so by putting up a welcoming and disarming front - a perfect honey trap.

.

.

Writing this was a TRIP man, ughk. It's so tame and light as a yandere fic but something about writing subtle manipulation just makes my skin crawl the most. 😭 Anyways, hope you enjoy! ✨🫰🏽

[pinkpigtailsprincess]

💿: Hey, U-Go-Girl⋆.ೃ࿔* 🎀⭐️

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₊˚💿✩; Hey Dolls 2Day we’re gonna be talking about building self confidence/ self esteem and embracing your natural self!! this post is heavily inspired by U-Go-Girl By Lee Hyori Bc honestly that song literally screams CONFIDENCE!! {Long Post Ahead}

DISCLAIMER !! some of this stuff might mo resonate with some folk because of certain circumstances like social anxiety i know bc i literally have social anxiety + agoraphobia and these are also some things ive done to cope with anxiety and stuff like that so don’t even!

⋆🎀˚⊹ PILE 1 ;

Internal > Looking the Part > Baby Steps > Take Up Space > affirmations > body language > Embarrassment

⋆👖˚⊹ PILE 2 ;

External > Cutting People off > Opinions > being desperate > boundaries > compete with your self

₊˚🌺✩ ₊˚⭐️⊹♡ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

₊˚🪼✩ 1; Looking The Part !! ୭₊˚

When you Look good you feel good!! it doesn’t matter what you look like when you’re put together + confident you’re automatically attractive!! 🎀 4 instants everyday even on lazy days always make sure you’re

Showered

Hair Put together

a cute outfit that YOU like

clean nails

fresh breathe

clean skin

moisturized + smelling AMAZING!!

Hot Tips ! ;

when it comes to Hair + Skincare + Oral Hygiene & Outfit personally i recommend Hair > Oral Hygiene > Outfit because when it comes to hair care certain products in your hair product can also have an affect on your skin and when brushing your teeth + mouth wash and scrubbing toothpaste get all over your mouth and water its messy!

₊˚📟✩ 2 ; Baby Steps !! ୭₊˚

For all my folks out there who are shy/have social anxiety/introverted or just need to get out more baby steps is the way to do it i learned this from the therapist so basically i rank things from least to most anxiety inducing (?) like sitting outside or something and i do the smallest task for about how ever long i possibly can and i keep doing it till i progress and start doing harder things !!

₊˚ 🍭✩3 ; Take up Too much Space !! ୭₊˚ (The wizard Liz Inspired)

Never dim your light to make others comfortable when it comes to confidence and being yourself you gotta be unapologetic about it!! you focus should never be on other people and how they perceive you , that literally none of your business and that’s literally a waste of time and draining your own happiness So where that dress,style your hair this way,showcase your true self and fuck how other people feel that a THEM Problem not Yours!!

₊˚ 💬✩4 ; Affirmations !! ୭₊˚

Affirmations Baby!!! Having daily affirmations is a MUST!! not only boost your self esteem and confidence but they will also bring you out of the mindset that your “below the bar” & help you validate yourself without needing outside opinions!!

What i like 2 do it is keep set of daily affirmations i repeat when i wake up & throughout the day and i like to put them all around my space like put sticky notes of mirrors,keep pinterest boards of affirmations,repeat then while getting ready,making a self concept playlist full of songs that make me feel my best etc.!! (P.S Affirmations tapes are TOP TIER)

. . . DYK?

The kinds of media you consumer can sometimes affect your over all mood,self image & mentality so be mindful of the media you consume when it comes to any form of media !!

₊˚ 🍋‍🟩✩5 ; Body Language!! ୭₊˚

SUPER IMPORTANT!! wether you’re in an active conversation or just walking down the street body language will play a huge role in not only how you feel but will also help you be confident & have people be more attracted to your energy

so what were gonna do is swap all of the awkward body language and swap them out!

Tense Shoulders > Drop & relax your shoulders and put them back

Looking down when walking > Hold your head up head

Slouching > Stop slouching and Keep your make straight

When you wave don’t shake your palm > use your 3 fingers in the middle to wave in an half way down and up motion

Sit in the Duchess Pose basically it putting both of your legs together and slant them 2 the right diagonally !!

STRUT YOUR STUFF!! I can’t stress this enough a good runway strut is always on your side i promise you this!! you gotta act like your a famous super model like naomi,shalom,yasmeen,linda etc. you gotta act like your opening for a runway or something and just be FABULOUS!!

₊˚ 🏩 ✩6 ; Embarrassment !! ୭₊˚

I Fully believe embarrassment is a SOCIAL CONSTRUCT like people who are consider “embarrassing” are literally just being themselves and when people see a person being themself they can’t handle and feel this dire urge to “humble” them and

An example of this comes from one of my favorite movies Legally Blonde!! when elle first stepped foot on Harvard campus people were automatically on her tail for just being herself and what did she do?? NOTHING. and thats exactly what you gotta do view their opinion as INVALID and keep doing you!

“Out of Sight Out of Mind”

Hey! You made it to pile 2 Lucky You!

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⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 Cutting People Off .𖥔˚ 🐬

SPOILER ALERT!! The people you surround yourself with can definitely play a role in how you perceive yourself,your individual opinions,how you think & behavioral action due to peer pressure, sometimes toxic people can seep into your social circle and you might no even notice it

Signs You need to cut someone off!

- never supporting you

- repeating the same toxic behavior

- never being happy for you

- copying everything you do

- never fully apologizing

- trying to bring you down for literally anything

- talking behind your back

- trying to leave you out

- is hypocritical towards you

- is in competition with you

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 Opinions! .𖥔˚ 👙

Again like i said people opinions on you is not a you problem its a them problem especially if it’s a negative opinion it doesn’t matter you don’t need to explain yourself to anyone especially not someone who won’t even take the time to know you before making up stupid assumptions! and you sure al hell don’t need to change to fit in with anyone , you were meant to stand put and thats okay

“No Problem i don’t care You’re you I’m me” - Jang Wonyoung

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 Being Desperate.𖥔˚ 🪸

OH GIRL!! Being desperate is embarrassing for you especially if it’s over someone you have romantic interest in unt unt that simply won’t fly with me! if they’re ghosting you,being inconsistent,telling you one thing but acting another way etc. don’t be desperate for someone like that you deserve someone better! people like this probably don’t care and its silly of you to be desperate for their attention & you’re far too special for that

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 Boundaries .𖥔˚ 🛍️

Always have boundaries and never let anyone over step them, if you set a boundaries in a friendship and they keep crossing that boundaries they don’t care about your boundaries don’t let someone continue to disrespect you & your boundaries

HOT TIP . . .

Don’t laugh at jokes that are at your expense

If someone is trying to embarrass you be upfront with them and tell them how you feel

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 Compete with yourself .𖥔˚ 🌤️

See yourself as your only competition always try to out do yourself not matter what in any category even if its doing something productive one day to have a better day than you did yesterday i adapt this mindset with my blog and my self improvement i need to out do myself all the time im the only person i need to compete with!!

[dazedandconfused-15]

Heaven's in your eyes (Part 2)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female Reader

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 1

@tatumrileyslover @nocturnest @i-keepmyideals @eddiestans-blog here you go!

______________________________________________________________

It has been exactly six days since Billy dropped you home that Monday after the trip. The following days he never fails to greet you if you cross paths in the hallways. He hasn't ignored you once, even though you haven't called him yet. The truth is, you are terrified of doing so. When you think about dialing his number, two days later, you think it's too soon and you will look desperate, so you put the phone receiver back in its place. At the same time, you keep mulling over his words. 'Call me when you feel like it'. It means you don't have to call him right away, maybe he really means to call him when you feel like it. On Saturday morning, you decide it's the perfect time to call him. Enough time has passed to avoid seeming desperate, but not so much that it seems like you don't want anything to do with him. You need to repay the favor, and even though it's pouring rain outside, you pick up the phone.

After a couple of hours of pondering and racking your brain, you decide to take the risk and go for it. You had written Billy's number down as soon as you got inside, safely on a piece of paper. As the phone rings, you're already regretting your decision, feeling nervous as hell.

“Hello,” a girl's voice answers.

“Oh, um, hello. Is Billy there?”

You definitely didn’t expect a girl to answer. She sounds very young.

“Hold on,” she says, sounding bored. You quickly move the phone away from your ear as she screams Billy’s name.

A few seconds later you hear the rustle of the phone being moved around. “...cking yelling like a banshee. Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Y/N” you say, hoping he remembers your name. It would be weird if that’s the case.

“Hey. What’s up?” he says instead.

You instantly feel relieved. 

“You told me to call you when I wanted. I hope it’s not a bad time.”

“‘Course not,” he says. “You okay?”

“I’m good, thank you. And you?”

“Yeah, same. What you’re doing today?”

“Um, nothing special.” You glance at the window. “The weather is awful. I was actually wondering if you wanted to go grab a bite?” It feels like you’re inviting him on a date. It’s embarrassing. “Since it’s raining.” Now you’re repeating yourself. You’re glad he can’t see you blushing furiously as you keep rambling. “I mean, remember you told me you wanted to see more of Hawkins? I saw the weather and thought about this place. It’s a bit outside of town. If you don’t have anything planned.”

“Yeah, sure. Just need to finish working on some stuff. I can pick you up at seven.”

“Seven is perfect,” you say, your heart still hammering in your chest. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you.”

You change clothes at least three times, unable to decide what to wear. You don't even know why you're making such a big deal out of it—it's not a date, just an outing between friends. Actually, you two aren't even that close. But don't dwell on that too much; what is the reason for your outing, anyway? Originally, it was to show Billy the rest of Hawkins. Dinner is part of that plan, but Benny's Burger isn't one of the places he mentioned, even though it's a bit more isolated. However, that didn't seem to bother him. This time, you decide to bring enough money to pay for both of you. It's the least you can do.

Despite anticipating this moment with secret enthusiasm, seven o'clock arrives faster than you'd like. You leave the house in the pouring rain to find Billy's Camaro idling in front of your trailer, its low rumble cutting through the night. You hurry to open the door and close your umbrella, trying not to let any water into the car. As you settle into the seat and turn to greet him, your breath catches. You try not to look too impressed by the sight of him as you fix your wet hair, but a quick glance is enough to get your heart racing. You’re increasingly convinced that this man has no physical flaws, and that thought destabilizes you. He’s wearing a white tank top under a black leather jacket, with blue jeans that fit like they were tailor-made for him. As he puts his hand on your seat and looks over his shoulder to back up, he manages to keep his cigarette firmly between his fingers, one hand on the steering wheel. You take the opportunity to steal a glance at him. The movement brings him closer, and the scent of his cologne reaches your nostrils, making you feel strange. His long curls are perfectly styled, reminding you of a lion.

“I didn’t think you’d actually call.” he says as he shifts from reverse to first, heading toward the end of the trailer park. 

“Oh,” you say. “Why is that?”

“Dunno.” he chuckles, his long lashes brushing his cheekbones. “Maybe you were scared of me or something.”

His sentence moves something inside you. "Oh. Not at all,” you say, your voice carrying a hint of determination. You are determined to make him understand that you may be shy, but you are not a fragile little thing. "I'm not scared of you."

“You’re not?” his voice is like a low rumble, it burns through you and sets you on fire.

“Uh-huh.” your mouth feels dry, and you distract yourself by feeling the hot air coming out of the vent with your hands.

“Good.” 

When you walk into Benny's Burger, it's practically deserted. There's just a couple of old gentlemen. From the way they are dressed, they look like fishermen. It looks like they have recently ordered because there is only cutlery and two glasses of beer on their table. Benny Hammond comes to take your order and greets you warmly. He and your dad are good friends, they went to school together here in Hawkins. Billy orders a double burger and a large portion of fries, and you order a steak with a small portion of fries. You were afraid the evening would be punctuated by few words and awkward silences. Billy is not the biggest of talkers, but the feeling of uneasiness quickly vanishes as the night goes on. You tell him about your dad and Benny, recounting how your dad was born and raised in Hawkins. When you tell him about his travels, you linger and talk a lot about California. Billy is curious about what your dad did there for five years. Then you tell him how he went to Jamaica alone and risked his life several times but had a good time. Then Billy tells you how his group of friends in California had been very diverse, two of them being a Jamaican and a Filipino. He tells you how good their mothers' cooking was when he was invited to eat at their house. You are surprised how the conversation always manages to bounce back. 

Half an hour later, Billy has cleared his plate. You, on the other hand, are still struggling to finish your steak, so he finishes it for you. You comment in amazement that he eats like a horse, then immediately apologize, feeling your face flush with embarrassment. Billy laughs and tells you he does weight training five times a week. You feel like saying you've noticed, but luckily manage to stop yourself in time and avoid further embarrassment.

You insist on paying to make up from last time, but Billy refuses categorically. You feel guilty, but his stubbornness prevents you from doing anything else. When you leave the restaurant, it has stopped raining. The smell of rain rises from the asphalt of the car park. As you walk towards the parked Camaro, you cross your arms over your chest, suppressing a shiver. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Billy take off his jacket.

"No, don't take it off, I'm good, really." you tell him, already knowing what he’s doing.

“Here,” Billy drapes it over your shoulder anyway. The weight of a jacket and the smell of leather envelop you. You try not to show your surprise as his warm hand gently squeezes the back of your neck. “Just wrap it around yourself. Don’t wanna catch a cold.” 

His hand seems to leave an imprint on your skin. You didn’t know you would like his touch so much until now. The sound of zippo rips through the silence and your mind. Billy walks past you, the orange glow of a freshly lit cigarette is the only light in the evening darkness. He opens the driver’s door and bents inside, inserting the keys and fiddling with the radio. You lean your back against the side of the car, enveloped in the warmth of his jacket, still carrying the lingering heat from his body. You breathe through the collar of it, smelling the faint scent of his cologne. 

The gentle guitar strumming of ‘Landslide’ wafts through the air as Billy closes the door, windows down, and leans against the car, beside you. You turn towards him, your eyes dragging over his body covered only by his wifebeater. He takes a drag from his cigarette, the tip of it vibrating until it almost turns red. 

"You’re sure you're not cold?" you ask, daring to be a bit bolder and nudging his shoulder gently.

Billy nudges you back, mumbling around his cigarette. “Hey, I’m a tough guy.”

You softly shake your head at his answer, looking at the trees in front of you, forming a wall of darkness, a trickle of wind shakes them slightly in the breeze. “I love this song,” you say with a soft smile. Then you look at him. “I didn’t know you liked Fleetwood Mac”.

“What did you think I liked?” Billy asks after exhaling the smoke, taking the cigarette from his mouth.

“I don’t know,” you hesitate, hoping he doesn't misinterpret your words. “I thought you were more into metal. Just ‘cause I heard you playing it from your car sometimes.” you hastily add.

Billy hums in acknowledgment. “So you were watching me, huh?”

“No, it’s not that! You just, sometimes the music is very loud.” 

He laughs, and it’s such a pleasant sound. It makes your insides swirl. “S’alright. I do play my music very loud.” he flicks the cigarette on the ground, the glowing ashes extinguishing silently on the wet asphalt. “I listen to metal, yeah, but I like rock in general. Hard rock, folk rock,” he jerks his head to his right where the music comes from. 

You hum thoughtfully, tightening his jacket around you. “That’s nice. I think they’re among my favorite folk rock bands.

“Those guys?”

“Yes.” 

Billy nods his head. “They’re cool, yeah. What else do you like?”

You hum while thinking. “There’s lots. My dad likes all these rock bands, like Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, and a bunch of others. I picked it up from him. He used to blast them in the house when I was little," you recall with a soft smile. "He's a big fan."

“Well, well, well.” Billy grins in appreciation, his smoldering eyes on you. “Didn’t know little miss was so cool.” 

You let out a small laugh, and put a strand of hair behind your ear with a shake of your head to do something with your hands. You thank the night for hiding how flustered you are. “I just…” 

“What else are you hiding?” he tilts his head toward you, the warming mood bringing him closer than before, his shoulder brushing against yours.

“Not much.” you laugh again, unable to meet his eyes. 

“Huh-huh,” he mumbles playfully, bringing the cigarette to his mouth. 

You switch the conversation on him, to shift the attention from you. “And how did you start listening to rock?” 

Billy initially stays quiet. At a certain point, you’re almost convinced he either didn’t hear you or doesn’t want to answer.

“My mom.” he finally says. You look at him, instantly feeling the shift in his mood. “She listened to all this folk stuff, like Joni Mitchell, Mamas and Papas, Bob Dylan. I remember hearing it play in the house since I was a toddler.” he muses, and for a moment seems lost in the memory, breathes a silent laugh through his nose. “She was a bit of a hippie.”  

You can imagine his mom dancing barefoot in the living room, him mirroring her movement with a smiling chubby face, his bright blue eyes looking up in adoration at her.  

“And my old man didn’t like that part of her one bit,” he says then, his voice turning acidic. He flicks his cigarette again. “You meet someone and expect them to change what they are for you. Kinda makes sense, huh?” 

Something in the way he talks about her suggests to you that her mother is part of his past. You don't know on what level, but surely the whole thing didn't end well. And that's one of the sensitive topics regarding his life in California. 

‘Dreams’ starts playing next, filling the last few seconds of silence. It makes you think about the vinyl of that album you bought in Chicago when you spent part of last summer at your grandparents’. It was the right before your mom left.

"I think it’s kind of cool. It's usually always dads who listen to that music,” you say gently in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

“Yeah, no.” Billy snorts. “Surely not mine. He thinks that’s the Devil’s music. Still into that conservative bullshit.”

“My grandma thinks the same,” you comment. “I had ‘Rumours’ on vinyl before.” you start, referring to the current song’s album. I bought it that summer when I visited them in Chicago. It got damaged shortly after buying it. I still think she broke it on purpose.

“Shit. That sucks.” 

“Yeah,” you sigh. “It’s my favorite one.”

“Do you still have your record player?”

“Yes. I have a few other vinyls too.”

As the two of you continue to talk about music, a topic you didn't think you'd be on the same tune on, the mood returns to a lighter one. Soon later, the rain starts falling again stopping you in the middle of your conversation and you both realize it got late. Billy crushes his unfinished cigarette with his boot and you get in the car.

“Thanks for paying tonight. Again,” you tell him sheepishly once on the drive back home. 

Billy slightly lowers the radio's volume until the guitar strums are just background noise, his eyes fixed on the road. “There’s lots of other ways to make it up to me, but I won’t let you pay. Sorry, sweetheart." 

His tone suggests he's not sorry at all. It almost sounds like it’s out of the question for him. You try to ignore how the nickname makes your heart flutter, refusing to dwell on its meaning.

“But why?” 

“Because,” he chuckles, probably amused by how you seem fixated on the question. “It’s just the way it works.”

“Doesn’t make sense,” you mumble quietly, burying half of your face in his big jacket still wrapped around you and suppressing a shiver. 

“Shit. Does it always rain in this shithole?” he squints his eyes a little bit as he lifts the lever to increase the windshield wiper's speed. The rain is now pelting the car more aggressively. 

“I think it’s because you’re used to California,” you say gently. 

There still are a few droplets of water on his naked arms and shoulders. However, he doesn’t seem to feel cold since he’s not shivering.

“Guess so,” he mutters. 

For the first time, you notice he has a tattoo on his shoulder. It’s a skull smoking a cigarette. You wonder when he got it done, what does it represent? 

Before you can stop, your mouth talks. Your voice is quiet, but it is still audible. “That’s a cool tattoo.”

He turns his head toward you, and for a moment he seems surprised. Then his face settles back into a composed expression, his eyes flickering with a hint of amusement. "Yeah, you like it?" he responds casually, you swear his tone betrays a touch of warmth.

“Mh-mh.” you nod, feeling comfortable enough to say what you really think next. “It suits who you are.”

He lets out a quiet chuckle under his breath. “What do you think that is?"

Maybe it’s the relentless thundering of the rain over you, maybe it’s the fact that it’s pitch dark or you’re slowly being accustomed to being around him. You feel a sense of comfort enveloping you. 

“I think… You’re tough on the outside, you always act distant from what surrounds you, like you don’t care about anything and anyone. But deep down, you’re kind-hearted and really gentle.” 

The only sound breaking the silence is the soft hum of the music and the harsh drumming of rain against the car. Your swallow seems thunderously loud in the quiet, but the collar of his jacket offers some solace. Glancing at him, you breathe in the scent of leather and him, focusing on his forearms—robust yet slender—then his hands gripping the steering wheel, long fingers lightly wrapped around it. You wonder what it would feel like to have his arms around you, his hands on your waist, neck, cheeks. Every thump of your heart against your ribcage feels hyper-aware.

“Like, incredibly kind and gentle,” you venture, sensing the weight of your words. It's why you try to cloak yourself in the armor of a rough exterior, a fortress formed by sharp cutting gazes, sharky smiles and skinned knuckles. You want to say more, but it feels too personal, too revealing. You know he wouldn't handle it well. It would make him feel vulnerable, prompting him to close off. You guess he’s hiding some things from himself and the world, afraid it would spill over and flood the fragile sanctuary of his soul. 

Billy chuckles softly, his tone light yet evasive. "You're painting me as a real softie, aren't you?" his words carry a playful edge, his gaze still fixed on the road ahead. His eyes won’t meet yours, though. There are a few seconds of silence before he speaks again. "Got it last year. The tattoo. Hurt like a bitch."

You notice his subtle attempt to divert the conversation. But you can’t blame him. You went a bit too hard. 

“I want to get one too. Someday,” you murmur. 

“Yeah?” he glances at you.”D’you have something in mind?” 

“Not really…I guess I’d have to think about it.”

“You should. It’s gonna be there forever. Unless you get it lasered off, which is a new thing. And that’s a whole other level of pain.”

Just to make you think about it makes you shiver. “Laser it…?”

“Yeah.”

Getting a tattoo is something you have to ponder for a long time indeed. And you’ve always had a penchant for changing your mind. Getting excited about ideas, projects, and it always seemed to work for a long time until you changed your mind. Or something happened and you consequently changed your vision of things. You’ve always been uncertain. Your life had a penchant for unexpected events and uncertainties as well.

“Maybe getting a tattoo is not for me,” you mumble. “I’m bad at making decisions. I feel like all of my life is going to be like this.”

“What do you mean?”

As the car slows down, you realize you’re already driving on Forrest Hill trail road.  

“I mean…” "I mean…” you sigh, uncertain whether to delve into what’s on your mind and risk exposing yourself. But Billy opened up tonight, so you feel compelled to do the same. It also feels kind of natural. “In my life, things always seem to take unexpected turns. Often in a bad way. I can never know what to expect. And I don’t like that.”

The car comes to a halt, and you find yourselves parked in front of your trailer.

“Well, I could tell you ‘That’s the beauty of it’ or some stupid shit like that. But huh…” he chuckles, shaking his head as he rattles the pack of cigarettes in his palm to extract one. “My life has been a shit show itself. So, I get it.”

“I’m really sorry,” you say softly. That’s all you can say, you can only imagine from the vague piece of information he gave you. 

Billy shrugs as if to brush it off. It’s so natural it looks rehearsed. You wish you could tell him it does matter, that he deserved to have a happy childhood, he deserves a happy life.

“I wish I could at least have a hint. Even if it’s just one piece of information. I don’t like all of this uncertainty,” you continue. You've known Billy long enough to understand he doesn’t appreciate pity, or even anything that remotely seems like pity. “I wish I could see my future. My grandma…” you stop yourself with an embarrassed laugh. “I know this is gonna sound stupid. It’s probably not true anyways. But I’ve always wanted to get my palm read. My grandma used to know how to do it.”

Met with silence, you feel the familiar burn of shame and regret welling up inside you. Why would you say that? He’s probably thinking you’re crazy for believing in this stuff.

“Wanna give it a shot?” 

You turn toward him in surprise. “You know how?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty good at it.” he shrugs, putting the pack of cigarettes in the compartment. Then places his cigarette behind his ear. “Come on.” he holds his palm in invitation. You place your hand in his, palm facing up. 

“Alright,” he begins, tracing a line with his fingertip, “This here, is your headline. It’s curved and wavy, which means you’re creative and intuitive. You think outside the box, not afraid to follow your own path.”

You watch his face, his concentration as he reads your lines. “And this one. Huh. Oh yeah. See, your lifeline is strong and deep,” he continues, his voice a low rumble. “That means you’re full of energy, and vitality. You’ve got resilience, no matter what life throws at you.”

He shifts his focus to another line, “An this, here, this is your fate line. Not everyone has one. Suggests you’ve got a purpose, something you’re meant to do, and it’ll shape your life significantly. Basically, your destiny is in your hands.”

His thumb moves lightly over your palm, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “Your skin is soft. How's it so soft all the time?” he almost mutters to himself. “Means you’re sensitive, maybe a bit sheltered. Shows you’re not letting anyone in. But it’s not a bad thing, you know what I mean?”

You could listen to his voice forever. It’s like a low melody, resonating deep within you.

“How do you know all this?” you breathe, your eyes studying his face. 

“Told you my mom was a hippie. She was into all of this stuff. Taught me how to do it. Shit”, he chuckles. “...haven’t done that since I was ten probably.”

Finally, he traces the heart line, deep and prominent. “And this,” he says, rubbing his finger across a line that nearly runs the full width of your palm. “is your heart line. It runs deep, straight across. It means you feel things intensely. You love deeply, but you also hurt deeply. See this?” he presses his thumb into the little fleshy space between the first and middle fingers, then meets your eyes. “When it curves outward like this, it means you’re willing to give a lot to the other person. Like, you give all of you.”

You are caught between the urge to look away from him and hold his gaze. His tourmaline eyes are two deep pools in which you swear you can lose yourself.

“I uh, we’ll see about that.” you manage to say. “I haven’t had anything like that before.”

“Haven’t had a boyfriend yet?”

A small laugh escapes your lips at your own embarrassment. His own slightly twitch too. “God, no. I haven't exactly been in the game.”

“So nada, huh?”

One of his thumbs caresses your palm, the other the skin of the inside of your wrist, drawing circles. It sends tingling along your body. A pleasant shiver that makes your whole body aware, a hot sensation in the pit of your stomach, all your nerves rising. You can feel something hanging in the air, a palpable tension, but you also wonder if it's just your imagination running wild. Being inexperienced as you are, perhaps it’s all in your head, and all of this is fueled by the undeniable attraction you feel toward him. Then Billy jerks his chin toward your right.

“Looks like your dad is waiting for you.” 

You follow the direction he’s pointing at. Indeed, the little light outside the trailer is lit. Your dad is peering at the small window on the door, you can see him munching a pickle in the meantime. As you’ve been burned, you quickly retract your hand from his.

You are grateful to your dad for entering the picture and getting you out of this situation. With him looking at both of you, you can do little other than simply greet Billy without a second thought. Had he not been there, you would surely have stumbled over your words.

“Oh, uhm. Sorry about that.” you chew at your bottom lip before looking back at Billy, an apologetic expression on your face. It’s embarrassing. “He was probably worried, he does that when I come back late. Oh,” you suddenly remember you’re still wearing his jacket, so you quickly take it off. “Here. Thank you. I’ll see you at school?”

Billy takes the jacket. “Yeah. See you there. Sleep tight.” 

You want to ask him if another hangout is on the program, but you don’t wanna press too much, so you hurry inside the trailer with your heart a little lighter and a thousand questions. In your bed, you keep replaying the hours spent with him unable to fall asleep. His change of tone and attitude when he talks about his parents lingers in the back of your mind. You don't know his story in depth, but you are increasingly convinced that he and you share more than you think.

[fern-funtime]

| Corvette Corvette <3 |

wc: 1,182

paring: gojo x fem! reader

warnings: 18+, gojo is cringy ngl, tw! rich people

an: if i don't get embarrassed and delete this i'll make a pt 2. maybe, if i get asked nicely -Fern xo ♡

A one night stand was never your kind of thing, yet you find yourself walking to a small rundown bar. It wasn’t exactly trashy but definitely not ideal but hey alcohol is alcohol, and sex is sex. Walking into the bar you immediately catch a whiff of cigarettes and cheap cologne. It was surprisingly busy, the booths were filled, a group of men around your age were playing pool, and there were only a few seats at the bar that were open.

You nervously walked up to the bar and asked the bartender for a drink, “Cape cod please.” He went to make your drink and all of your confidence started to dissipate.

The reason why you were alone was because all your friends were out with their boyfriends. You couldn’t come to terms with the fact that you were alone so you decided to pick someone up from the bar. Which sounded great in hindsight but actually being here…you’re thinking about your life choices. The bartender hands you your cocktail, and you gladly take is and chug half of it.

“Can I get a-“ your thoughts are interrupted by a man coming up behind you to order a drink, he looks at you for a second and seemingly losing his thought. Another brief moment passed before he looked back to the bartender “Uh- sorry can I get a coke?” The bartender nods and goes to grab his drink. You glance back at the man and he’s already looking at you. You can’t help but feel nervous, he is very attractive. Nice suit, messy white hair but it fits him, and he smells really nice. Definitely an expensive cologne. But the thing that really caught your attention were his eyes. Sadly covered by sunglasses, but you could still see their bright color.

“Hey pretty lady~” he smirks and you cringe. “Pretty lady?” you laugh “That was bad.”

He jokingly pouts “Bad?” he sighs and puts his hand over his chest “You wound me.” you roll your eyes but the smile stays, you can’t believe this is working.

“So what can I call you pretty lady?” “Well definitely not that, call me y/n” his smile widens and he leans against the bar “So, what are you doing here Y/n.”

"I just wanted to...relax I guess.” you take another sip of your drink and he raises a brow “Are you alone? A pretty thing like you should be with her friends…” he trails off a bit “Or with her boyfriend..” he raises an eyebrow.

“My friends are busy, and I don’t have a boyfriend.” you look away for a moment and see him in the corner of your eye grin ear to ear.

“Oh really now, are you looking for one?” You admired his boldness but you couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re very forward, I dont even know your name.” he rubbed his neck “That’s rude of me, my name is Satoru Gojo.” Satoru Gojo. “Well Gojo, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.”

He smirked and leaned in a bit “Wanna get out of here, y/n?” you think for a moment, you were going to say no but the way he said your name, literally made you weak, and you wanted to hear him say it more. “I’d love to.” you smile at him before getting up from your seat. He leaves the bartender a $20 and walks besides you. He opens the door for you and you both eagerly leave the bar.

You both walk to the parking lot and he takes you to his car. Which you could not tell he was rich by looking at him but his car. “A corvette?” you give him a curious look. He laughs “My corvette.”

He opens the passenger door for you before walking to the drivers side and getting in. Once you get in he turns to you and he looks a little nervous, you look back at him and the world seemingly stops, he’s much more prettier in this lighting. You started to get nervous, the very little alcohol you drank did not help. He brings his hand to your cheek and moves a hair behind your ear.

“Can..I kiss you?” he whispered. He leans in closer and you do the same, his eyes glance at your lips before going back to your eyes and he stops moving, your lips slightly brush against eachothers and you softly say “please.” with your permission he quickly, but softly kisses you.

You both sigh into the kiss feeling content, he’s warm. Pulling away he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and he smiles. Your body felt a little to warm and your cheeks were practically burning. “Are we going to your place or m-“ before he can finish his sentence you take his glasses off and bring him into another kiss.

He moves his hand along your cheek all the way to your waist and the other hand rests on your neck. You pull away and he’s looking back to you with half lidded eyes, he wants this just as bad as you do. “We can- um” he stammers a little bit and you notice how pink his cheeks were “We can go in the back or you can..” he pauses and realizes how awkward this is.

“I can what?” you know what he was trying to say, but he looked really cute like this. “Y’know..” he starts but before he says anything else you move over the center console and straddle his waist.

Once you’re on top of him he looks up to you with puppy eyes. “You look good like this.” he moves his hand up your stomach to your chest. You take his hand and move it down to your thigh, and you guide it under your dress. “Maybe…i’d look better without this on.”

His smile gets wider and he starts to pull your dress up revealing the lingerie you had on. “Wow, you came prepared.” you get embarrassed and pout “Stop you’re making me sound like a who- oh.” you’re cut off by the feeling of his fingers teasing you.

“What you were saying gorgeous?” he smirked and pulled your panties to the side, allowing his fingers full access to your pussy. You let out a quiet moan and you wrap your arms around his neck. You kiss him to hide your noises, honestly it was embarrassing at how much you were getting off just by his hands alone. Pretty soon you felt a knot bundled up and you couldn’t hide your noises, you started slowly grinding yourself against his hand.

“Aw, is the pretty girl close?” he moves his mouth to your neck and leaves soft bites along it. You let out a pathetic ‘mhm’ and before you reach your peak he stops and pulls his hand away. You furrow your brows and you go to say something but before you can even open your mouth he’s already licking his fingers and unzipping his pants with his other hand.

[live-laugh-lenney]

Hey, sorry if you aren't comfy with writing this/me requesting it but I just want to know if you could do a period comfort type thing with Arthur or Will? On my period rn and my lord it is killing me :/

the girlies are hungry for some willne content so here we go!

she had a feeling.

a horrid feeling that sat low in her stomach, along with the cramps that were contracting her muscles and the damp sensation that she could feel between her thighs, and she couldn't bring herself to leave the warmth and the comfort of the bed to see a bloodied stain left in her place on will's bed because she hadn't been paying attention to what time of the month it was. and she so badly wanted to get up, to check, to make sure she hadn't leaked too much, if at all, on his bed sheets... yet she found herself panicking.

this was the first time she'd started her period in the presence of him.

usually, she would busy her life to the point where they'd go almost a week without seeing each other because her hormones made her feel gross and grumpy and hormonal. and will wasn't stupid and yn, deep down, knew that... but he never went digging and he never forced plans to happen during that one particular week each month. if she knew she was due to start then there was no way she'd have agreed to stay at his place for the weekend.

"if you stare up at the ceiling any longer, the upstairs owner will be in bed with us."

"what?"

her features scrunch up with her eyebrows pinching together on her browline and she turns her head to look in his direction, being met with a cheeky smirk on his lips and a pair of tired eyes watching her, and she could feel her cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

"you'll burn a hole in the ceiling if you stare at it any longer," he says in amusement and she rolls her eyes, "what did it ever do to you?"

"nothing," she grumbles, grasping at his duvet and pulling it up to cover her face, "i'm going back to sleep."

there's a moment where neither of them move... until she feels him tug on the comforter to remove it from her face, only to be met with a tight grip and a straight-up refusal on her part. and he wasn't in the mood to back down, ducking beneath the covers and coming face-to-face with her.

"something's bothering you," he says softly, almost like a whisper, and he can see the emotions written across her face, "what's the matter?"

"nothing," she whines and turns her face away from him, squeezing her eyes tightly and he sighs heavily, dropping his face into the swell of her breasts that were dressed with one of his old t-shirts, "i'm just sleepy. guess i struggled to sleep last night."

"come on," he scoffs and buries his face a little more into her breast, "i know you, yn. i'm not an idiot."

there's a wave of silence and she really contemplates whether she wanted to tell him or not... it was silly for her to be embarrassed over something as natural as a period but she felt silly for getting so upset and panicky over it. it wasn't something she could control.

"you're gonna be grossed out."

"nonsense," he lifts his head and looks at her, "i'm up in your morning breath right now, nothing can be worse than that."

she scoffs and lifts an arm to whack into his shoulder, making strong contact, enough to elicit a groan from him.

"i hate you," she grumbles and he cackles softly, cosying down beside her and laying an arm across her stomach - unknowing to him that she found instant comfort in feeling his warmth and the weight of his arm resting just where her cramps were aching, "seriously, it's gross."

"what is it? i can't help if you don't tell me."

she pouts her lips out and she wants the ground to swallow her whole because this wasn't a conversation she was prepared for.

"i think i've started my period," she murmurs quietly and she's timid when she looks him in the eye, "but i have none of my stuff. no pads, no tampons, i have no paracetamol or clean pants or anything. and i think i've leaked on your sheets and-"

"is this all you were worried about?"

she gulps thickly and he smiles softly.

"oh, you're a silly goose," he shakes his head, "you think i'm not at all prepared for this?"

"prepared?"

"the only thing i don't have for you is clean pants," he admits and he removes the covers from where they were almost suffocating the two of them, "i have everything you need in the cupboard under the sink in the bathroom. tampons, pads, everything you need. as for the bed sheets, we can wash them, no worries about that."

"you-"

"you think i don't know?" he lifts an arm up and brings a hand to cup her cheek, brushing his thumb across her cheek in a soothing way, "i know when you pretend to be busy for a week so you don't have to see me. i know you keep yourself occupied so you can't come over," her cheeks pink up and, yeah, she feels a lot sillier now, "sunshine, i've been with you for over six months now. i'm not an idiot."

"i can't believe you," she giggles sweetly and she stretches her neck to press a kiss to his cheek, "i love you."

"i love you too," he grins, "now, go and freshen up. have a shower, do what you need to do, and i'll pop out and grab us some breakfast."

"can you get some croissants and pancakes?" she wonders and he nods, "maybe some fruit? and some bacon."

"i'll see what i can do," he presses a kiss to her forehead before he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands to his feet, "take as long as you want, yeah? i'll some clean clothes for you on the bed for when you get out."

"thank you," she smiles, watching as he dug through his wardrobe for a fresh outfit to wear for the morning, "now hurry up, otherwise i'm going to turn into some hormonal monster. and you won't like that."

"yes, ma'am." xx