#kai's next on the list

[lumagarden]

built lloyd’s titan mech today :D!!!!

[poparthuriana]

A likely-incomplete list of streets named after Sir Kay

Lane of Sir Kay, Garner, NC, USA 27529

Sir Kay Way, North Salt Lake, UT, USA 84054

Sir Kay Court, Godfrey, IL, USA 62035 |

Sir Kay Drive, Lewisville, TX, USA 75056

Sir Kay Drive and Sir Kay Court, Chesapeake, VA, USA 23323

Sir Kay Drive, Millcreek Township, PA, USA 16506

Sir Kay Drive, Markham, Ontario, Canada L3P 2Y9

Sir Kay Street, Odogunyan, Ikorodu, Lagos State, Nigeria

[unbound-space-trash]

the audacity of my real estate to email a list of petty cleaning grievances when they came and did an inspection an hour before our scheduled time while I wasn’t at home

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.9 words you've been wanting to hear

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

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

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

ᰔ chapter. 9/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 15.6k (WHY DO THEY KEEP GETTING LONGER)

a/n. HELLO MY DEAR KICKOFF READERS IVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH i am soooo sorry for the wait on this one. this chapter felt very vulnerable to write for some reason lmfao, but i really hope it was worth the wait :''') see you at the bottom!! if there are typos or some things don't make sense i'm so sorry i literally gave up on proofreading this i just ended up raw-doggin it and then posting it

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

an additional author's note. hellooo ellie here. there are some additional warnings/tags for this chapter, i added them to the tags above, so if you know you have any sort of triggers, please refer to them before reading! but if you don't have any and don't want to be spoiled ab anything then you can keep reading lol. thank youu <33

--

The restaurant address that Kai sent you was just a ten minute taxi ride away, save for the five minutes you spent trying to evasively maneuver through the hotel lobby in order to avoid running into people you’re not too keen on seeing right now, a list that stacks up to just one person at this moment.

It’s a Korean barbecue place, it’s been ages since you’ve been to one, probably since they’re way too expensive for any sort of outing you could afford these days, but the crisp sizzling sounds of the grills and the savory air has your mouth watering in a way that makes you indifferent to the cost. Anything to get this churning feeling out of your stomach. 

It’s instantly brought to your attention that Hana’s tipsy off of Soju because she’s slid out of the booth the second you emerge to the tablestide, and she’s onto her feet to pull you into a hug. You hug her back.

“I’m ssssoooooooo glad you’re—hic—here,” she says, voice sounding loud near your ear, but her embrace is surprisingly calming to you.

Her face appears flushed when you pull away, and you give her a smile and a kind hold of her elbow. “I’m happy to be here, sorry for coming late, I just decided I wanted to have dinner with you all.”

Minato is pulling on Hana’s arm to get her to sit down, which she finally agrees to, and you glance to the left side of the table where Kai sat, meticulously turning over pieces of meat on the grill. His eyes are on you, and the seat next to him is empty.

“You look nice,” he says, eyes falling to your lap under the table once you’ve taken a seat next to him.

Your eyes fall to your lap as well. “Oh. Thanks. I wasn’t really trying to look any sort of way, though.” Just faded jeans with a few rips & holes you made yourself, way back in high school when that sort of thing was trendy.

“I know,” he says, smirk heard perfectly through his words, “I like that.”

You ignore him, a fleeting thought passing through your head of how annoyingly forward men are to women they’ve met within a day, just something you’ve noticed recently, and then you’re accepting the glass of Soju that Minato’s poured for you. Quick to tip it back, you feel a burn on your tongue that’s just enough to distract.

“Today’s game was pretty interesting,” Minato speaks up, picking up a few pieces off the grill with his chop sticks and placing them on Hana’s plate first before taking some for himself. You find the gesture sweet. “The first half was intense.”

Hana nods enthusiastically, elbows rested on the tabletop as she waves her hands around in the air. “Uh huh, uh huh, the boys kicked the ball like whoosh. Goes all over the place! Can’t get a—hic—can’t get a single shot. No, I mean me, I can’t get a camera shot. Not them, they can get the shots of goals. The goals of shots? Huh.”

“Alright, you’ve had enough,” Minato grumbles as he drags the glass of Soju that she was nursing away from her. 

Kai lets out a laugh beside you, his knee bumping against yours under the table. “I’ve watched so many of these soccer games for this job, and I’ve still got no damn clue what the rules are.”

You blink down at your empty plate for a second before grabbing the silver chopsticks laid neatly on your napkin, and taking some food from the center of the table. “Really? I’ve only been to a couple, and I feel like I get the gist of it.” Maybe it’s because you had a personal interest, though.

Kai lets out a low whistle next to you. “Okay, you’re a smartass then.”

You give him a sidewards glance. “Maybe you’re just dumb?” 

Your own words startle you a bit. Minato lets a laugh out, but under his breath, while Hana does absolutely nothing to conceal hers. Kai’s eyes just widen. You bite down on a carrot stick.

“Hey, hey, hey, y/n,” Hana chirps, tapping at your wrist, “do you know any of the soccer players? Utahime said you doooo.”

You swallow slowly to buy yourself time, but give a preliminary shake of your head before answering, “no, not really.” You catch a whiff of the cologne on your wrist when you lift your glass to your lips.

“Oh,” she sulks her shoulders and then sinks down into the booth again, her head falling onto Minato’s shoulder. The man stiffens a bit and then there’s a content smile playing at his lips. A hint of a smile develops on your face too at the sight when you put two and two together. What an adorable little crush. It makes you feel sick.

Kai pours you some more Soju the second you drink down the last of it in your glass, and you nod to him as a thanks. “Pretty sure most of my photos from the first half are fucked,” he says, dragging the opening of the bottle against the rim of your glass before pulling it away, “didn’t realize until way later that my aperture was way off.”

You bring the glass to your lips, inhaling before taking a sip. You’re about to speak up about that when Minato beats you to it.

“Are you serious?” he asks, disappointed, like they’re suddenly talking business now. “I better see some good shots. Your side was where most of the action took place. Like that through-pass, tight behind the defensive line, from Nanami Kento to Gojo Satoru before he sunk it a couple mins before the half ended.”

You choke a little on your Soju at the mention of Gojo’s name, and then all three of them are looking at you. You wave a hand in front of your face. “Sorry.” 

Kai grumbles something under his breath and then stuffs a piece of pork belly into his mouth. “Yeah, whatever, man. I’m pretty sure I got some good ones. Don’t worry.”

Dinner goes on like that, where you count the number of times Kai thinks that someone saying something funny across the table is an excuse to press his thigh against yours, but at least the cute way that Hana and Minato seem to inch closer to one another all night is enough to put you at some sort of bitter ease. But that unsettling feeling in your stomach from a couple of hours ago still lingers.

The four of you stand outside the restaurant, heels rocking back and forth in the cold as you all take up the last chance to debrief the day, and then Minato’s glancing at his watch.

“Alright, it’s probably time to head back. We can all share a ride to the hotel, it’s cheaper that way,” Minato says. Hana’s clinging to his sleeve.

“Oh, uh, I was going to stay here. There’s a cool camera shop around the corner. I was gonna check it out,” Kai says, pointing over his shoulder before glancing at you. “Wanna come? I saw they’ve got used film cameras.”

You twiddle with the hotel key card in your pocket. It’s cheap plastic, could break easily with just the right amount of pressure. Like your resolve right now. “Sure.”

He smiles at you.

“Alright, well I need to get this one back to her room,” Minato says with a sigh, pointing to Hana, “so I’ll see you all at the next game?”

You and Kai nod at him and then watch as he walks away with Hana on his arm towards the curb, pulling his phone out to call for a ride.

“Where’s this camera shop at?” you ask Kai once the silence between the two of you stretches out a little too long. 

“It really is just around the corner,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He starts walking down the row of miscellaneous shops and establishments under dim street lighting, and you follow after him before the two of you circle to the adjacent end. A tiny shop in the distance catches your eye. The LED sign above the storefront was blinking sporadically, and read 17th St Camera & Rentals, except half the letters were extinct of any light. Next to it was a 24/7 liquor store.

It’s only when you walk right up to it that you realize the sign dangling behind the glass door that says closed.

“Oh. Bummer,” Kai comments in a flat tone. “I swear it was open before I got to the restaurant.”

You sigh, pulling your phone out to glance at the time. “Yeah, at 8pm? It’s past 10 now.”

He looks at you and taps the camera case still hung at his neck. “That’s fine. I’ve still got a camera to show you, anyways.”

You blink your eyes at him, suddenly feeling a bit exhausted and then glance over your shoulder at the curb of the street to see if Minato & Hana were still there waiting for a ride. You don’t see them anymore. 

A distraction. Wasn’t that what you wanted?

“Yeah, show me.”

Kai seems to know the area better than you, since he walks down the haphazardly lain sheets of concrete across the ground with more confidence than a tourist would. The thought occurs to you that maybe the newsletter photographers have eaten here before during their time in Kyoto.

“What made you start working with the newsletter?” you ask, glancing at him as the two of you walk down further, into what seems like a neighborhood.

He shrugs. “First job I could find out of college. I had a lot of freelance experience, so I’m assuming that’s why they hired me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow. “What about you?”

“I’ve known Utahime for a while. She was impressed with my work.”

“Ahh, connections,” he muses, “smart. That’ll get you far as an artist.”

He suddenly stops walking and peers off to the right, into a darkness that you can’t really make anything out of until you’ve spent a few seconds staring too. He walks in that direction, the loud echoing stomps of his boots on concrete no longer audible once he crosses the threshold onto grass, and you follow behind to what seems like a deserted children’s park. You wish there were more trees in the city. There are a lot here in the countryside, and it makes you homesick for something you’re not even sure of.

A gust of wind brushes through, rattling the set of swings hung on rusty chains. The wood chips underneath your feet feel stale, with no snap to them at all as you follow Kai through the playhouses set up in connected fashion. There are two picnic benches, one looks like it’s been freshly painted with faux effort to improve its image in the line of sight of the street, while the other has red paint peeled back to reveal bronze underneath the moonlight, neglected and tucked behind a few trees. The latter is what he chooses.

He slides into the bench, and he shakes his head when he sees you try to take a seat on the other side before patting at the seat beside him. “It’d be easier for you to take a look at my side.”

He has a point, so you sit next to him instead. Although at this point in the night, you were feigning interest. He zips his camera bag open and you take a better look at the lens. There’s no way it was as cheap as he told you it was.

“There’s no way this was as cheap as you told me it was,” you say.

He laughs, pulling the camera out and handing it to you. “Yeah, maybe the guy cut me a deal since I’ve bought from him before.”

You’re smart enough to put the strap around your neck, even though you’re only holding it a few inches above the table, because a camera like this deserves the care and respect. The material is minimalist and sleek, and it’s heavy in your hands. You click the shutter button, screen coming to life with a few mechanic chirps. “Woah. Is it LCD or OLED?”

“LCD.”

“That’s nice,” you say, “paying for the OLED just seems silly to me.”

“I concur, Canon. Color accuracy is king.”

He shuffles to pull something out of his pocket while you continue to inspect the camera in your hands, and you see him fidget with said thing over the table in the corner of your eye. The flick of something and the light of something makes you turn your head to face him, and he’s pinching the end of a joint to his mouth, lighting the other end.

He gives you a glance when you stare for too long, inhaling from it before pulling it from his mouth. “What?” You can see the smoke leave his mouth in the chill of the air.

“Is that why you chose the secluded bench?”

“I did? Didn’t even notice.”

You blink at him, and he places his elbow on the table to lean closer to you. 

“Do you mind it?” he asks.

“No, not really.”

“Wanna smoke with me?” Two fingers pinching the origin of smoke tilt towards you. “This is my good weed, though, so, I charge by the drag.”

“That’s ridiculous, and no thanks. It doesn’t suit me.”

He lets out a laugh, releasing whatever tension he was building in your space, and the smell of weed is nauseating, but at least it's a new sensation to you.

“You’ve gotta be the only film major on the planet that doesn’t smoke weed. How do you manage?” he asks, the orange flicker of his joint being the only color you can distinctly see under the similarly flickering street lights. 

Your finger traces the rim of the camera lens and is careful to not smudge the glass. “I think I manage just fine.”

“Yeah. With delusion,” he says, coughing, scattering smoke into the air this time instead of a clean blow.

You turn a bit in your seat to face him more, placing the camera down. “You’re extremely blunt.”

His eyebrow raises in amusement and you close your eyes with annoyance at the pun. You brush it off.

“I mean, seriously, I get you’re probably just looking out for me, I guess. I appreciate that. But do you really think my dreams of becoming a filmmaker are that far-fetched?” you ask. There’s a crack to your voice at the end that you didn’t like.

He sighs, setting his wrist down on the table. There’s a long pause where he thinks about what to say. Probably the most you’ve seen him consider what words leave his mouth next. “I was in the same shoes as you, y/n. A couple years ago. I, too, had big dreams of making movies. I was going to apply to film grad school as well, although you’re shooting higher than I was at the time. There’s no way I would’ve gotten into UTokyo’s.” He tilts his head to the side a few times while looking straight off ahead. “I sent scripts in everywhere. To every fucking production company, creative agency, you name it. Never got a callback, not even once. While all my fellow grads were landing decent, respectable jobs.” He brings the joint to his mouth again, but he doesn’t inhale, just bitterly bites it. “I could’ve went on like that, but,” his brow furrows, “I’ve seen my peers torture themselves for years for those dreams of theirs. I swore I wouldn’t be one of them. Because they’re all delusional fucks.” He finally glances at you. “Are you one, too?”

Your shoulders drop a little and your lips purse. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early to say.” 

“It’s never too early to say, if the outcome is all the same,” he tells you. 

You consider his words for a moment. It’s the easy way out. You should consider yourself lucky. Everyone wants a reason, a sign, to turn away from the one thing they’re scared to think about. And here he was, giving that to you on a silver platter.

But if what you wanted was really all that fragile, then it means there’s nothing to show for any of it. For all the effort it took you to get here, and all the effort you’re still willing to give. 

“I’ll keep going until I fail,” you say, “or until I succeed.” It’s not really something you say for him, but for yourself.

He juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows, slowly nodding his head, like he’s impressed by you. But his posture remains lax. “I mean, you’re working this job. You’ve got some sort of plan, at least. It’s not like I’m your parent to tell you what to do and what not to do.” He finally takes another drag, eyebrows pinching together at the same time his fingers pinch close to the burn of his joint to pull it away. “What’s that one saying? You can take a horse to the water, but you can’t make it drink.”

“Wow. You don’t sound a day older than sixty-five.”

He smirks at you. “You’ve got a lot of attitude, Canon. Where does it come from?”

You sink a little in your seat, turning away from him to look down at your hands that were still messing with the features of his camera. “My annoying feelings lately.”

“Feelings about what?”

You consider telling the truth. But you don’t. “My car is in repair and I’m not sure I can afford to pay for the bill, since things keep coming up with it.” It was the thing at the top of your mind at the moment though, for some reason, so partially truthful.

He laughs. “Yeah, cars have a way of doing that when you’re finally getting caught up on bills.”

“At what point does spontaneously picking up random, obscure jobs go from omg I’m so excited to have this opportunity to I just need the money?” you ask.

“You mean you’re not already at that point yet?” he says with a scoff. “Soon, then.”

You sigh.

“Y’know I used to work at this lousy cinema a few miles away from Central,” he tells you, hand tapping the table with a rhythm that makes no sense. “Busted my ass working minimum wage on night shifts because I thought I’d catch a big break in conversation with a director, as if Martin Fucking Scorcese would choose to host his opening night at a random Edwards in Tokyo.” His tapping on the table stops. “Tell me that isn’t pathetic as hell.”

“That’s pathetic as hell.”

“The things you’ll do for money,” he says with a sigh. He sounds detached, like it’s really just a message for you.

You lick your lips, skin feeling dry from the wind that occasionally brushes by, and when you glance at Kai again, there’s a grit to his jaw.

“Should’ve been born as one of those damn college athletes,” he grumbles, sucking in fast through the joint that was close to withering away. “Those fuckers don’t pay tuition.”

The harsh colors of the soccer team’s color-coded practice schedule on your phone are visible when you blink, as well as the exhaustion under Gojo’s eyes in the warm lighting of the hotel lobby earlier tonight. “They work hard.”

He looks at you. “I work hard, too.”

Your shoulders tense. “I’m sure.”

“You work hard as well.” Just to include you.

“Yeah.”

“I mean, you can’t tell me that it’s fair.”

Your mind wanders to some of the people you’ve met on that team, who have been nice to you. You think of Gojo, and the memory of him makes you wish you were with him right now. Despite everything.

“I guess it’s not fair,” is all you say, a tactic to diffuse the conversation, one that you’ve had to use twice with him today. The sound of the swing chains clinking together from the wind in the distance runs a chill down your spine.

You feel heavy in your chest, and you glance at the joint pinched in between Kai’s fingers. He’s not keeping an eye on it, so it’s easy to steal, and you bring it to your lips before sucking in. You instantly let out a few coughs. He’s looking at you with surprise. And you’re still in desperate need of that distraction you’ve been craving.

“How long does it take for it to kick in?” you ask, coughing again and pressing a hand to your chest.

“Super long when you can barely stomach a single drag.”

You try again. He watches you. You swear you feel a buzz this time, and you hand the joint back to him. You feel like you’re having an out-of-body experience.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Good,” you tell him, “really good.”

“That’s gotta be placebo, Canon.”

“No, really,” you sigh it. Even if it was, maybe your mind was just blessing you with a single moment of reprieve. “I feel…really good,” you say with your head in a haze. “Best I’ve…” you don’t know why you have to blink back tears, “best I’ve felt this whole week.”

Kai’s silent next to you. You look over at him, and he’s got a scrutinizing expression on his face. His eyes are glazed. “You seeing anyone right now, Canon?”

It’s the savory question you know has been on the tip of his tongue. Ignorantly asked, as if you would’ve been sitting here with him right now in the dead of night if the answer was yes. 

“No.”

He’s leaning towards you, and you’re dazed and also sleepy. His face is close now, there’s an urge to giggle, which means there’s no way this is all just placebo, and when his lips dip towards yours, you’re conscious enough to push him away by a weakly fisted hand pressed to his collarbone.

“Oh. I. Um,” you stutter.

“What?” he asks, eyebrow raised, still close to you.

“No. No thanks.” Because it felt wrong. 

He fully pulls away from you, and runs a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving him. “Alright.”

You’re breathing faster now, surroundings feeling vague, like you’re in sweltering heat but the air only bites cold.

You stand up suddenly. “I…I want to go back.”

“Go back where?”

“To the hotel. To my room.” You pause. “I mean, by myself. Not with you. We can share a ride, though.”

He stands up too, hands reaching for you, gripping the straps of his camera still hung around your neck and he pulls it off to place it back into the case. You feel like you’ve lost favor with him somehow. “Okay. Sure.” 

“But not with you.” You felt the need to clarify again.

“I get it, Canon. It’s fine.”

—

“Maybe you just need to fuck him aggressively without mercy.”

“I beg your finest pardon?”

You’re sitting in a booth inside this streetside KFC with Mina sitting across the table, waving a fry around in the air, and with Nobara next to you as she tries to open a packet of ketchup with her teeth. The hangout the three of you have been hyping up all week, just to be sat in the same place you always go to. You were about to take a bite out of your sandwich, but you set it back down on your tray.

Mina points the fry at you and shrugs. “I’m saying. Maybe you’re having such a hard time getting over Gojo because you got so close to fucking him in that bathroom, but you didn’t, and now you’re in, like, this constant state of edging.” She bites down on the fry. “The clit knows what the heart doesn’t.”

“Your theories never fail to amaze me,” you mumble, sinking further into the booth. 

“Perhaps it’ll take the edge off.” Mina sucks through the straw of her Diet coke. Nobara finally succeeds in opening her packet of ketchup.

“I doubt it. Besides, I technically already gave him an invitation to,” you say, fingers rubbing at your eye with a swipe as you wince from the memory, “and he rejected me, so, still swimming in the self hatred from that one.”

Mina hums. “There’s no way he’s not foaming at the mouth for it, y/n. Men never let a meal they were craving go unfinished,” she states, dramatically stabbing a chicken nugget with a fork.

“What kind of pigs do you guys associate yourselves with?” Nobara asks. She’s a lesbian, by the way.

“I raise another question. Why are we talking about this in a public restaurant?” you offer.

“Listen, babes,” Mina continues, like your words fall on deaf ears because she’s got some point to make, “it’ll either poof. Make your feelings go away like the drop of a hat because you find out he’s a bad lay. Or it’ll be so good that you realize you’re never getting over him and you’ll be thinking of his dick instead of your husband’s on your wedding night.”

“We’re. In. A. Public. Restaurant.”

Mina steals a biscuit from your tray. “If it ends up being the first outcome, then the whole thing was my idea. If it’s the second…then just know that Nobara has steered you wrong.”

“Why the hell do you have to drag me into this?” Nobara asks.

You’re about to take a bite from your sandwich again when you’re interrupted by the buzzing of your phone in your purse. You pull it out and glance at the caller ID, then let out a sigh.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” you mumble, slipping out of the booth and towards the restaurant’s exit, pushing the tense door open with a gust of fresh air brushed through you.

“Hello?” It’s the car repair man. “Really? I thought you said it was fixed.” Apparently something else came up. “Okay…how much longer will it be in repair?” Much longer than you had thought. “And how much will it cost?” Much more expensive than you had thought. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, really, I feel as though every time I’m on the line with you all, I have to wait longer to get my car back, and the bill just racks up higher.” They’re trying their best. “I know. Is it necessary to fix in order to drive, though?” State laws require it. “Okay…thanks for the update.” And then you hang up without another word, and with all the frustration in the world.

You head back inside and grumble about your car woes to Mina and Nobara, who try their best to respond with interest.

“Why can’t your insurance cover it?” Mina asks.

“Apparently they can’t claim it’s because of those rocks I drove over,” you sigh, “since it looks like it’s been a problem for longer than that.”

“Can you afford it?” Nobara asks.

“Not really,” you say. “I’ll just have to postpone having my car for a bit.”

You sigh with a glance out the window of this fine dining establishment, into the blue skies just beyond, head drowning out the voices of Mina and Nobara as they continue to grill you about all sorts of questions that you don’t have the energy to answer right now. You had another student loan payment to make once you got home today, and just the thought of it makes your heart drop a little. And you realize you just can’t afford to be picky about your financial situation anymore.

—

“Thanks for helping me out with this,” you say, footsteps over familiar grassy hills as you head towards the UTokyo’s practice field, your digital Canon EOS hanging from your neck. 

“Sure,” Kai says as he keeps pace next to you, “why the sudden mission, though?”

You’re gazing off straight ahead, a nervous pit in your stomach since it’s been a while since you’ve walked across this landscape towards the field. 

“I just feel like I need to diversify my income somehow,” you sigh, the buzzwords leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you say them but it was the reality of your situation, “to make ends meet. When you mentioned freelance work during our conversation last week, it made me think it’s time for me to pick that up too.”

Kai hums. “Yeah, it’s a good plan. I’ll try to show you what I know.”

Once you’ve made it to the top of that hill, the one that oversees the field, your eyes instantly scan the field for familiar silhouettes, and your breath catches in your throat when you spot Gojo passively kicking a ball back and forth between one of his teammates for warm-ups.

It’s the second time you’ve seen him since that argument the two of you had in the hotel lobby, the first being at the post-game conference in which you did everything in your power to swiftly avoid him, and you plan on keeping that up. There’s also an urge to run away, but you’re starting to realize that’s not much of an option anymore.

“Honestly, you don’t really need to worry too much about shutter speed with freelance like you do for shooting sports,” Kai is mumbling next to you as he messes with the settings on his camera, the two of you making your way down the hill towards the field, and you’re not really listening because your eyes are on Gojo, who’s yelling something across the field to his teammates with a look of concentration on his face.

“Uh huh, I see,” you say. You see Kai glance at you in his periphery.

“You again!” you hear a familiar harsh voice call out, and you turn on your heel to face Coach Yaga who’s standing a few feet away in his custom UTokyo tracksuit with his arms crossed against his chest. “Why are you on my field?”

You hold your breath for a second. “Hi, Coach Yaga, so sorry, but I’m just here to take some more photos.”

He lets out one of his hmphs, unrelenting. “You’re a distraction. Get off my field.”

“D-Distraction?”

“Coach!” Suddenly, Geto’s in your line of sight as he emerges with a light jog up to your side. “You should really be nicer to our photographers, they give us a lot of publicity for our games. And publicity means funding.”

Coach Yaga narrows his eyes. “I need all my players focused right now. Even during practice.” He gives you a disapproving glance and you’re still confused, but also weirdly angered.

“Excuse me, Coach Yaga, but last time I checked, this field is technically open for all students. And I’m a student,” you say to him, crossing your arms across your chest now. “So, I can be here if I want.”

You have no idea if that’s true at all, but sometimes you’ve just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.

Coach Yaga grumbles something and then waves his hands in the air. “Fine! I’ve no bandwidth to argue about this anymore! Just don’t distract my players.”

You’re shocked that it worked, and Geto nudges you with an elbow to correct your expression so that Coach Yaga doesn’t catch on to the bullshit you just spewed. 

“Are you here to take some photos?” Geto asks, facing you. He’s got his hands on his hips, breathing slightly fast, some of his hair falling onto his forehead. 

“Yeah, I am, just for practice though. I’m here with—” you glance at Kai, who’s standing with his fists shoved into his pockets, “Kai. He’s also with the newsletter.”

There’s a moment where Geto studies the two of you for a second before speaking. “I know,” he says, extending his hand out for Kai to shake, which he does, “I think I’ve seen you around. Not sure if we’ve formally met, but it’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, likewise.” Kai’s hand is then shoved back into his pocket.

You feel awkward suddenly, and then quickly say something to Geto about how he should probably get back to practice, which he agrees to, and then you’re standing at the chalk sideline with Kai as he shows you the ins and outs about digital photography.

“Have you tried shooting in burst mode?” he asks, switching the feature on your camera and then handing it back to you. You sling the strap around your neck.

“Hm…” you start, pointing your camera across the expanse of the field to multiple areas. The trees off into the distance, the goal posts, Coach Yaga’s yapping Pomeranian. “Not really…” The grass beneath your feet, the sky above your head, and then blurrily focused before settling on Gojo who stood in the distance straight ahead.

You see through your viewfinder that he’s caught sight of you too, a look of surprise on his face seen only by the level of zoom, and you glance up from the screen to make eye contact with him in reality. He’s fully staring at you, and you can barely see the way his expression relaxes from that one of athletic concentration to something wistful and strange that you’ve had a hard time reading lately.

“Canon? Are you even listening?”

“Huh?” you snap out of it and look at Kai. “Sorry. Could you repeat that?” You quickly glance toward Gojo again, and his line of sight points towards Kai now.

“I was asking if you’ve tried panning before,” he says, reaching for your camera, pulling it towards him, but the strap around your neck means you’re pulled closer to him too. 

“Satoru!” Coach Yaga yells in the distance. “Eyes on the ball!” 

“Just got to set your camera to manual mode first,” Kai mutters, confusion in his voice. “Where the fuck is it?” He’s turning your camera in his hands, which only has you stumbling with another small step towards him, your chest pressed flush to his arm, and he looks down at you for a brief second with a smirk on his face.

You hear the sound of a ball being kicked on the field, followed by the shout of one of the players.

“Ah, here, found it,” Kai says, handing your camera back to you, and just as you’re about to say thanks and you hold your camera up, you’re hit straight in the face by a flying object and fall backwards onto the grass with a painful thud.

What the fuck?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Okay, that’s dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.

There’s shouting in the distance as you hold your head with a groan, eyes shut tight with images of your life flashing behind your eyelids, and when you open your eyes again from where you’re sat up on the grass, you’re surrounded by soccer players.

Gojo’s suddenly in your line of sight, knelt down beside you and he’s holding your shoulders, trying to get you to look at him but you’re still blinking away the stars you’re seeing. “Fuck, y/n, are you okay?” he asks, and you register the concern on his face.

“Dude,” one of his teammates kicks the heel of his cleat, “where the fuck were you looking? It was clear as day I was tryna pass to you.”

Gojo grumbles something to him, his brow furrowed, and he’s lowering his head to try to make eye-level contact with you but you’re still holding your head with a wince.

“Oh shit,” Kai comments, “she’s bleeding.”

You pull your hand from your face to glance down at the wetness that you feel, and bright red color stains the tips of your fingers.

The next thing you register is Gojo picking you up off the hard grassy ground into his arms, and starts carrying you away down the field.

“W-What the hell are you doing?” you ask, his pacing across the grass is fast and you have to wrap your arms around his neck to keep from getting dizzy.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says, voice strained in his throat, and you’ve never seen him look so worried before. 

“The hospital?! Please don’t, I don’t have health insurance right now.” His face is so close and you’re distracted from the pain of your headache.

“You’re bleeding on the face, I’m taking you whether you like it or not,” he grumbles.

You dig your nails into his shoulder through the nylon of his shirt, and he hisses from the pain before stopping in his tracks. “I don’t need to go to the hospital, Satoru, I just need a fucking bandaid.”

“You could have a concussion.”

“A concussion?!” You kick your feet for him to let you down but his grip on you only tightens. “You’re being ridiculous. Let me go, or I’ll bite you.”

He scoffs at that and continues walking forward. “You’re gonna bite me? That’s the most threatening thing you could come up with?”

“I’m being so dead serious, Gojo Satoru. No hospital.”

He grumbles something under his breath at your use of his full government name, and then says “fine” but he’s still walking down the grass until his cleats begin to tap on concrete, and then on what sounds like tile as he carries you into a building a few yards from the field.

He seats you on a cold counter, your hand gripping the faucet of a sink, and you finally take a comprehensive look at your surroundings. light blue, faint scent of chlorine in the air

“Is this…a locker room? The men's locker room?”

He sighs, bending his knees a bit to look at your face closely. You flinch when his hand reaches out, and he pauses, but you relax slightly and then he rubs his thumb over your cheek. You feel the smear of a droplet of blood. “Yes. I need running water.” He turns the faucet of the sink on to run his thumb under.

“For what?” you ask. His thumb is running over your cheek again.

“To take care of this cut.” He disappears behind a tile wall for a moment. You can hear metal clanking, probably of a locker opening and closing, and he re-emerges with a first-aid kit.

You slide your butt across the counter to the edge, about to hop off and make a run for it when he grabs your hips and puts you back into place. “Don’t even think about it,” he grumbles. He leans forward, grips you strongly, and you see that he’s still breathing heavily from practice, strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and you can practically taste the salt on his neck. 

You press your shin to the front of his thigh, desperate to put some space between the two of you. “I don’t wanna be in here. Men are scary.”

“Well I can’t take you into the women’s locker room,” he says, ripping the packet of an antiseptic wipe open with his teeth, “I’d get registered as a sex offender.”

You attempt at an escape again, and he’s quick to get his hands on you to stop it.

“Quit manhandling me, or I’ll scream,” you threaten through gritted teeth, because you’re still mad at him. For everything.

“Go ahead,” he says, using his knee to spread your legs apart, then finds a place to stand between your thighs to get closer to you. “I’ve got a lot of ways I could shut you up.”

You blink at him, breath catching in your throat, and the expression on his face tells you he’s not interested in dealing with your stubbornness anymore.

“Just hold still,” he grumbles, placing the packet down on your thigh and then stepping off to the side to wash his hands under the sink.

“What exactly happened?” you ask, watching him dry his hands off with a few paper towels. One moment, Kai was trying to explain good digital photography to you, and the next you were dizzy from being knocked back onto the ground.

“You got hit by a soccer ball.”

“I know, but how?” You remember your camera hit your face from the impact too, and now you’re worried about it.

“I…wasn’t paying attention when my teammate passed it,” he admits with a sigh, finding his place in front of you again, the knuckles of his clean hand brushing across your cheek, caressing. Your expression softens slightly. He uses a hand spread across the small of your back to push you forward to him, then he gently passes the wipe over your wound.

“Oh okay so, you failed to protect me from a flying soccer ball.” 

He pulls his hand from you to read the lettering on the back of the packet. “I’m patching you up now, aren’t I?” he says, annoyed. “…oh fuck, I was supposed to go in with water first.”

“So glad to be in such good hands right now.” 

He gives you a pointed look, but you ignore it and turn your torso to see your reflection in the mirror for the first time. You had a small wound on your cheek, right over the bone, with some bleeding and it’s wider than it is deep. But when you look at Gojo again, who’s putting some ointment onto a Q-tip now, the look of guilt and worry on his face makes you feel satisfied for some reason, and you wanted to make it worse.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, brow furrowed, applying the cold gel to your cheek.

“Mhm. A lot.” Not really, no.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he sighs, head dipping towards you slightly to get a better look, “can you feel this?”

“Ahh, yeah. Ouch. So much.” Barely.

His other hand is placed flat on the counter next to where you’re sitting, and you allow it when his thumb starts to run soothing circles over your hip.

“Hmm…” you start, wide eyes looking up at him as he seems to lean closer and closer to you with every word that leaves your lips, “I really wonder if it’ll leave a scar.”

He looks tortured. His hand that was maneuvering the Q-tip in his hands drops to the counter now, and he brings his other one to your face, cupping your cheek. His eyes dart from the wound, thumb pressing at the plush of your cheek, and this time, it hurts a little so you wince. His expression is tense, some sort of inner turmoil you could read across his forehead, and then his jaw hardens.

“Who was that guy you were talking to earlier?”

You blink a few, then tilt your head slightly. You feel like you’re on a game show, where there’s four options and only one right answer. New boytoy, gay best friend, fuck buddy, or— “He’s my coworker.”

“That’s it?”

“Mhm.”

“Has he tried anything funny with you?” 

You almost roll your eyes. “No, dad, he hasn’t.”

“Woah. Say that again but make it daddy.”

“Hey just a quick question for you. Where do you get the audacity?”

His bent index finger finds a place under your chin, tilting your head up so you’re forced to look at him. “It’s your fault, really. I can’t help it sometimes,” he says, voice lower now. You’re squirming a little, wanting to push him away but his lips get close to your cheek, brushing near your wound, like he wants to make it all better somehow. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, near your ear. There’s a whimper you have to stifle in your throat. He pulls aways just enough to where he can look into your eyes. “A cut…” he starts, thumb now passing over your bottom lip, “on your pretty face.” He sighs. You shouldn’t, but when he prods, you tuck his thumb under your front teeth and your tongue presses slightly against the padded skin of it. He looks like he’s being driven to insanity, and his other hand has no shame at all in pulling you towards him, to seat you at the edge of the counter, and you miss the texture of his thumb on your tongue when he pulls it from your mouth. But it’s so he can dip his head down to kiss you instead.

Of course the sensation of his lips on yours only lasts for a second, because the universe really fucking hates (or loves?) you, so the loud clanking of a metal water bottle against tile interrupts with harsh reverberation throughout the locker room walls, and he pulls away from you when you jump at the sound.

You both turn your heads towards the origin, located at the curved end of the entryway hall, and one of Gojo’s teammates is standing there with his duffle bag slung around his neck and hanging heavily to his thigh, his water bottle clutched in his hand. He blinks at the two of you.

Oh. It’s the one you kissed at that party a few weeks ago.

“What—…Why is there a—” his teammate starts, panicked, turning his head to double check the sign on the locker room wall as if he’s hallucinating, and when his eyes land on you again, they widen with recognition. His gaze shifts, and his chin tips down at the sight of Gojo’s irritated side eye from where he was still all up in your personal space. “…you know what. Nevermind.”

His teammate’s eyes are on you again, and you give him a shy little wave, just a fluttering of your fingers in the air paired with a small smile, legs swinging back and forth under the counter. He lets out an amused scoff from the entryway, lifting his hand to return the gesture, some cheeky grin on his face as he then scratches the back of his head before turning on his heel to leave the locker room, out of sight. You let out a sigh, hand dropping to your lap, and you don’t need to look at Gojo to tell that he’s staring at you with disbelief.

“What the fuck was that—”

“You,” you interrupt him, finger jabbing at the center of his chest, “have seriously got a lot of fucking nerve,” you hop off the counter, “to not only allow a soccer ball to sock me in the face,” he’s taking a step back with every harsh jab of your finger, “but to also hold me hostage in a mens’ locker room,” his back is pressed up against cold tile wall now while he just looks down at you with wide eyes and something akin to fear, “and then, oh my god, the audacity to kiss me?”

“I—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” you yell, which shuts him up. “You really are just a fucking player.”

He’s stiff, not wanting to catch a punishment from you right now.

“But it doesn’t matter,” you grumble, still drilling your finger into his ribcage with the intent to cause pain. You didn’t need to be this close, but his body is warm, probably due to the blood pumping from practice, and it feels nice to be pressed up against. “Because I don’t have feelings for you anymore, so just fucking get over yourself.” It was a lie if you’ve ever told one, but you wanted to believe it so much that it could come off as the truth.

His eyes narrow down at you, eyebrows flattening. “You don’t have feelings for me anymore?”

“No, I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

You roll your eyes. “Why? Because you want me to keep suffering?”

He grabs your hips, then makes a motion that is evident of his desire to pull you flush to him, but he stops himself. There’s a moment where he just takes a few deep breaths and looks at you with a hardened expression, then a split second where his eyes fall to that little cut on your cheek, and every single feature of his face softens, and then he lets you go.

You take a small step back, breathing heavily of your own, and you feel the ghost sensation of his fingertips wrapped around your hips. It makes you feel dizzy, and your thoughts are a mess. 

He sighs. “Sorry. For the soccer ball, and this locker room. But I’m not really sorry for kissing you, and if that makes me a jerk, then so be it.”

Your heart is beating fast. “You are a jerk, Satoru,” you say. He doesn’t like you, he doesn’t want you. A mantra played over and over in your head that you’ve started to hear it at night. “A real fucking jerk.” And you leave him standing there in a way that feels like the hundredth time.

—

2:34pm kaito (work): yo

2:34pm kaito (work): i had my guy look at your camera

2:35pm kaito (work): it’s pretty fucked up

2:37pm you: :( oh okay isee. does he have an estimate for the fix? the lens is okay though right?

2:39pm kaito (work): yeah lens is fine, you should really count your blessings on that. 

2:40pm kaito (work): but nah, fix would be around the same as the cost of it, so you’re better off getting a new one

2:42pm you: i don’t have thousands of yen laying around unfortunately. my car bill has sucked me dry

2:44pm kaito (work): well let me check with him. maybe he can hook you up with a good deal on a used one

2:45pm kaito (work): i got a 50% off on one of my canon cameras i bought from him a few years back. maybe he’s still got some like that

2:46pm you: yes could you check with him please? thanks so much, really

2:48pm kaito (work): sure. although i think the guy that kicked the ball to your face should be paying for your camera replacement

2:51pm you: they were just practicing. it’s their field

2:56pm kaito (work): alright. btw, you free tonight?

You blink at your phone screen from where you were sprawled across your bed. Before you have a chance to type out a response, your phone lights up with a phone call from kaito (work). You accept the call.

“Oh, hi,” you say.

“Hey, are you free tonight?”

“Oh uhh, I was just about to check my schedule.” You shake your head at your inability to come up with an excuse on the spot.

“Okay,” he says on the other line. You hear the sounds of cars honking in the distance. “Well let me know. I just left my camera guy’s shop, and he was telling me about how one of his friends does visuals for a short-film director, and that the director is looking for an assistant.” Kai grumbles something about someone he walked past being rude. “I think the director’s agency is Verve Films, so.”

You sit up in bed, eyes wide at the mention of the name. “Oh, oh wow. That’s insane.”

“Yup,” he says, “anyways, apparently the director is busy as fuck, so he left the hiring process up to my camera guy’s friend. I told him I knew someone that might be interested. Are you?”

You take a deep breath in and out. “Yeah, I am. Most of my experience on my resume lines up with short-film, so I’d be able to—”

“Alright great,” he interrupts, “so we can hold the interview tonight.”

“We?” you ask.

“Well yeah, me, my camera guy, the hiring guy. Maybe go for drinks or something.”

Your brow furrows. “That hardly sounds like an interview.”

Kai sighs. “Well, it’s not an interview for a desk job or something. It’s more of like—well, like building connections. I know you know all about that, since Utahime got you the newsletter job.”

Well, yes. She put a word in for you, which helped get the interview, but you still went against qualified applicants. “I guess.”

“It’ll be like that. Most opportunities you’ll get if you still want to pursue filmmaking are going to be like that,” he tells you, “if it feels informal, it means you’re doing it right. You might not think so now because you’re still in school, where they practically serve opportunities to students on platters, but it’s going to be different in the real world.”

You lay your head back onto the pillow, feeling like you’re receiving a lecture you didn’t ask for, and your first instinct is to pretend that you know better than he does. But when you think about all the stress recently, all of the not knowing, and the unsure, you question if you should start leaning into the advice of the people around you, and start to accept this career path for what it’s known to be. Unruly, unconventional, and a lot of times, unfair. 

“I see. Well, can I think about it? Tonight is too soon, I’d need time to research the director, put a portfolio together, and also do some interview prep,” you say, pulling your phone from your ear to glance at the time.

“Well, tonight’s the only night that works since their team’s shooting abroad for the weekend and they leave tomorrow morning,” he says.

You purse your lips together.

“But also,” Kai says, “it’s the nice thing to do, y’know, since my camera guy is taking the time to look at your camera for free, you could at least help his friend out. By the way, he just texted me, he does have some used Canons available at discount.”

You close your eyes for a second, just trying to process this conversation right now. Kai was speaking too fast, hardly enough time for you to even think.

“So do you want to do the interview tonight?”

“Yes, sure. Okay. Just— just send me the details. I’ll be there,” you say.

“Alright cool, will do.” 

You say bye, and then he hangs up.

A few hours pass by, where you spend some time putting together a flash drive of a couple of your best short films you’ve worked on in the past with other directors, as well as a portfolio of some recently developed film photography. The last thing to do was grab your emergency stash of print outs of your resume, and then you stuff it all into a folder before glancing at the mirror to take in your reflection. It felt extremely weird to show up to a job interview in something as casual as what you were wearing right now, but Kai insisted to not wear anything business. But at least you opted for jeans that don’t have any DIY holes in them.

Your face is glued to the navigation on your phone screen the second you get out of the taxi, and you walk down the bustling nightlife streets of Tokyo to get to this bar that Kai sent you the address of. But just as you’re about to turn the corner to your destination down the bar strip, you bump into someone’s chest due to lack of paying any proper attention.

“Ah— I’m so sorry,” you say, your grip on your phone tightening when you realize it was about to get knocked out of your hand, and then you look up to see a familiar face.

“Oh!” Geto exclaims from where he’s standing right in front of you, “You’re everywhere, y/n. What are you doing here?”

You open your mouth to speak, hesitate for a second, and then continue. “I’m here to…get drinks with some of my friends.”

He gives you a smile. “That’s nice. I am too.” He points over his shoulder to behind him. “Nanami got into his MBA program earlier this week, so, Satoru, Choso and I are buying him a few rounds. Or possibly a million. The plan is to incapacitate him as punishment for giving up on playing in the national league with us.”

You humor him with a laugh. “That’s sweet. Or not? Well anyway, tell him I said congrats.” Your heart starts to beat a little faster, because from the direction Geto came from, it meant Gojo was likely just around the corner somewhere. “Where are you heading to now?”

“We’re bar hopping, and I think I forgot my phone at the last one we went to over there,” he says, pointing across the street. “So I’m going to go look for it.” 

“Oh alright,” you say. “Good luck with that. I’m going to go find my, uh, my friends.”

Geto tilts his head at you and had a slightly more serious expression on his face, glancing at the folder in your hands. “Thanks. And stay safe.” 

You nod at him and then walk past him to round the corner onto the street that had groups of people loitering in front of restaurants, bars and all sorts of establishments as they wait in the cold to get inside or be seated. You recognize the name on one of the signs hanging as the one Kai sent you in his message, and when you’re a few feet away from it, you spot Kai. He’s wearing his typical street photographer wear, with a red flannel over a gray shirt and pants that are possibly a size too big for him, but that’s likely the style he was going for. He’s standing with two other people.

“Hey,” you greet Kai first, who has a pleasant look on his expression before he greets you back and gestures to the two people he was with.

“Yo, this is Junichi, my camera guy,” he says. “Don’t bother shaking his hand, he’s a germaphobe. Gotta keep ‘em clean for the electronics.”

“Oh,” you say. Junichi is a big man, broad shoulders and thick muscles. His neck is almost as thick as his bicep, and he has no hair on his head. His arms are crossed. “It’s nice to meet you. Thank you for taking a look at my camera.”

He nods at you in acknowledgment. “Sure thing. Pretty Boy here says you want to buy one of my used Canons. I don’t refurbish them, so you’d better know how.”

Kai sighs, nudging Junichi a little with a fist. “Relax, dude, we can talk about that later. Also, stop calling me that.”

Your eyes flicker to the right, where another man stood, who you assume was Junichi’s friend and this Verve Films director’s visual effects specialist. He’s similar in stature to Kai, with that casual artist look, and he has a scuffle of facial hair littering his jaw in less of an intentional fashion but rather a five-o-clock shadow fashion. You vaguely register the scent of weed, familiar to the one that lingers in the photo lab on campus after class hours. He reaches his hand out to you first.

“Hi, I’m Ren. I work in visual effects for director Akira Ko at Verve.”

Your eyes widen as you shake his hand.  “That’s amazing. I’ve studied a lot of his contemporary works, I’d love to learn more about his process.”

Ren lets a fast exhale out through his nose. “Yeah, you’ll learn a lot under him.” He pauses to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Most of his assistants always do.”

“We’ve been waiting for too damn long,” Kai interjects before you could ask any questions about the assistant position, and he glances at his watch, “and there’s still a lot of people ahead of us.”

You glance around to the small groups of people gathered in front of this bar on a lively Friday night, eyes jumping from one area to the next, until a familiar silhouette catches your eye.

You see Gojo standing with Nanami and Choso a few strides away, near the lamppost. He’s mostly turned away from you, Nanami nudging his arm annoyed at something he said, and the sound of his laughter in the air makes your heart feel like it’s at stray. Like that was where you were supposed to be right now, not here.

You watch him from the distance as he sighs, shrugging his shoulders up and down slightly before crossing his arms when Choso gestures towards the entrance of the bar, and so he looks in that direction too. He’s frowning slightly and he brushes some of the hair fallen over his forehead away from his eyes, in that boyish way that makes your heart skip a beat, and you know he’s just doing it to see a little bit better, but it makes you want to cry. 

Geto walks up to them and rejoins their little circle, and holds his phone up in the air, and then there’s the melody of their voices bouncing off one another’s again. Geto rests his elbow up onto Gojo’s shoulder, leaning in a bit closer to tell him something, and when Gojo hears it, you see his entire body tense before his wide eyes are searching his surroundings, until those eyes land on you.

Your breath catches, and you hold his eye contact for only a moment before you look away, because it almost felt like too much to bear.

“What’s that folder in your hand?” Ren asks you, and you turn completely to face him so you can’t see Gojo in your periphery at all anymore.

“I just brought some of my work, for your—er, I guess Mr. Ko’s—reference if he’d like to see it after today’s…interview,” you say. “There’s a flashdrive, too.”

Ren has an amused look on his face and he shoves Kai’s shoulder with his palm. “Dude, you didn’t tell her?”

Kai shakes his head. “Tell her what?”

“Ohh, I see how it is,” Ren muses.

“What?” Kai asks, starting to sound annoyed.

Ren tips his chin up slightly to study Kai’s face, and then his look of amusement dissipates into one of understanding. “Nothing.”

“Tell me what?” you prod.

“Just that you didn’t really need to bring all of that with you,” he says. “Sorry for the trouble.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine, but if you could still give it to him—”

“I’m surprised Kai suggested someone when I asked if he knew anyone,” Junichi jumps in, “I’m used to him grumbling on and on about how shit the work is in filmmaking. Would’ve thought he’d convinced you to look the other way by now.”

You blink at the gruff man, then look at Kai, and he’s just staring down at the dirt of his shoes. “Well, we had a conversation about it. But I’m pretty set on what I want to do,” you say.

Kai lets out a scoff. “Yeah, I don’t really know how else to warn you about the shit show you’re in for, but if you want to be in debt to grad school for the next couple decades of your life, then it’s up to you.”

“Hey, jackass, try to be a bit nicer,” Ren speaks up. “She’s got some goals. Big fuckin’ deal.” He turns to you. “Although, he’s got a point sweetheart, school’s not going to get you anywhere in this industry.”

You frown. “A lot of directors I look up to went through graduate schooling. Most, I would say. I don’t understand where this rhetoric is coming from.”

“It’s coming from real people with real experience,” Ren says, and you dislike the way he takes a step closer to you to reiterate his point, “honestly, you should save yourself some time and give up on applying. It’s not worth it.”

“I’ve already put my application together,” you say, brow furrowing slightly, “I’ve asked professors for my references, spent the past four years working on my profile—” 

“But working under a director, I mean really getting to work under one, beats all of that. Which is why you’re here, right?” Ren asks, but it’s not curious, it’s testing.

You feel a sheen of sweat build at your forehead, even in this cold, and you clench your hand into a fist once, twice, thrice. You’re breathing fast, and the three sets of eyes that are staring so scrutinizingly into your soul right now have you faltering, like if they took another step forward, tried to intrude what you thought you knew one more time, you’d fall backwards over the cliff.

Suddenly, a hand wraps around your upper arm, and when you turn your head to the left, you see Gojo standing there.

“Hey,” he says to you, sparing one single sidewards glare towards Kai, who immediately averts the eye contact, before Gojo’s eyes are on you again, “can I talk to you for a second?”

You look at the three men in your circle, who suddenly adopt skittish body postures, and Gojo doesn’t really wait longer than a few seconds before he’s pulling you away from them over towards the edge of the curb towards the street.

“What?” you ask once he lets go of your arm.

“What are you doing here with those guys?” he asks.

“I’m—…why does it matter to you?” you ask.

“It matters to me because of the fucking absurd conversation I just overheard,” he says, “now answer me.”

His tone annoys you, and you cross your arms. “Are you eavesdropping?”

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he says, taking a step forward to you, “who are those guys, and why are you here with them?”

You blink at him, furrowed brows relaxing slightly as you drop your crossed arms to your side, and you stare straight ahead at the blankness of the white t-shirt he’s wearing, as your mind runs blank to his question. Why were you here with them? Was it because you had no other plans? Was it because the opportunity sounded too good to be true, and you just had to see for yourself? Was it because you’ve been unable to sleep at night from all the stress, the financial worries, the rejection, and you just want to finally feel like you’ve done one good thing for yourself? To feel like you’re at least making one step in the right direction, no matter the cost?

“I’m here for a job interview,” you say to him. Your tone is flat, and you feel numb.

“A job interview?” he asks, with just about as much incredulity you would’ve expected to hear from him at that answer, “At a bar? How does that make any sense?”

“It…” you start, “sounded fine.”

“It sounds shady as fuck.”

“This doesn’t concern you, okay? I’m—…I’m just trying to make my goals work for me, Satoru, and I really don’t expect you to understand.”

“Why wouldn’t I understand?” he asks. There’s confusion in his voice, and maybe even a little bit of hurt.

“Because you can’t even understand how unfair and painful it is for me that you keep—” you have to purse your lips together briefly to fight back the knot in your throat, “…that you keep interfering with my life everywhere I go.”

His expression softens, and he silently stands in front of you for a moment. His eyes dart across your face, and then he reaches out to grab your hand. “Listen, if you still want to get drinks tonight, then just get drinks with us. But don’t hang out with those guys. They’re bad news, especially the dude with the flannel, and I don’t think you’re in a good place right now to see that.”

Your eyes see white fury at that, and you all but snap. Because the irony of this whole situation, is that you’re not in a good place right now because of him. Because of all the pain that he’s put you through, for promising to stay away but then always being near, for saying he doesn’t want you but then acting like he does. 

“You know what I think, Satoru?” you ask through gritted teeth, yanking your hand from his grasp.

He’s looking at you, studying. “What?”

You take a step forward, threateningly, and he takes a step back so that he steps off the curb and onto the road, and you’re at eye-level with him now. “I think that you’re jealous,” you say, eyes glaring daggers into his.

He blinks at you, almost dumbfounded for a moment before he says “what?”

“You’re just fucking jealous that I seem to be moving on after you rejected me, because for some weird reason, you think it’s okay to not want me, and yet not want me to be with anyone else,” you say, practically hissing the words. “You don’t like seeing me with any guys other than you? You don’t want to believe me when I say that I’m over you? You’re not sorry for kissing me? Even after knowing,” you take a pause to breathe, because you feel like you can’t, “even after knowing that I like you,” eyes blinking fast because you don’t want him to see you cry right now, “you know that I like you so fucking much, and that it’s hurtful, and that it’s wrong— and even after all of that, you act the same, and still won’t promise me any commitment of your own.”

He’s looking at you with an expression you can’t read, but you’ve lost all interest in trying to understand it anymore.

“You don’t want me hanging out with them?” you repeat after him, “I’m not listening to that. Because it’s possessive. And it’s wrong.”

At the mention of them, Gojo clenches his jaw. “That has nothing to do with you and me, right now. What they’re trying to convince you of doesn’t make any sense, and it won’t help you achieve your dreams either, y/n.”

“You don’t know anything about my dreams, Satoru,” you say, just to hurt him. But you think about the sincere expression on his face the first time you met him when you told him that you wanted his help with your assignment. You think about the playful nudge of his elbow that night he stayed with you on the curb, and told you that you just had to try to put yourself out there, because you couldn’t accomplish anything without facing your fears. You think about how he’s always the first to like every single one of the slideshows you post of your pictures on Instagram. You think about the adoration in his eyes, reflected off the moonlight through the hotel window, when you told him about a little cottage on the countryside, one you’ve always wanted, and those eyes told you that he was really rooting for you. “You don’t know. Because you—” there’s an echo of words in your head. Someone else’s words, not yours, “Because you’re a college athlete. And—” you let out an exhale, “and you don’t pay tuition.”

His brow furrows. There’s a beat of silence as his confusion settles in. “What?”

“You were born blessed with talent, and you’re popular, and people adore you, and you don’t have to worry about internships, or jumping from job to job just to make something of yourself,” you say, picturing your life in your head along with all the strife, “or about all of the sinking debt, and the worry, and the— and the car repair bills,” you say, almost with a scoff, eyes sheening with tears, like you’re losing your mind, “all of the fucking car repair bills.” Your chest is heaving as you shake your head. “Because you’re set for life as long as you kick a fucking ball.” 

His lips purse together, like he can tell there’s more on your tongue to say, more hurtful words, and he wants to hear you say them. And so you do.

“You’ve never had to suffer or worry about a single thing in your life. So don’t pretend like you understand what I’m trying to do here tonight,” you say, inflection signing off on the end, to tell him that you’re done. 

He stands in front of you, practically motionless except for the slow movement of his chest as he breathes. His expression, tense and hurt, softens slowly, and you see him digging his nails into the skin of his palms through fidgeting clenched fists at his sides. And then he relaxes them, too.

“Does that make you feel better?” he asks.

His question confuses you, and for some reason, regret washes over you. “What?”

“Does thinking of me that way—…does it make you feel better about all of this? Between us?”

You’re breathing fast, eyebrows pinching upwards to look at him, and the defeated expression on his face makes your heart ache. He’s waiting for an answer, and so you give him one. “Yes.”

He glances down at the ground for a moment, then at your collarbone, before meeting your gaze again. “I’m sorry. For everything. And I—” the words catch in his throat briefly, “I’ll try to leave you alone tonight.”

His use of the word try doesn’t escape you, but you give him a furtive nod, and he studies your face for a few moments before he steps back up onto the curb and walks past you. You watch him walk all the way, no longer with that confidence or conviction you’re so used to seeing in him, as he steps back into his circle, to Geto’s side. Geto gives a small glance over his shoulder to look at you with discerning eyes before looking at Gojo again, and then he’s turned away from you. 

Heavy feet drag you back to Kai, Ren, and Junichi, and you feel feverish. They mention something about the table being ready, and you nod. The bar is rustic, with more tables than barspace, and the four of you are seated and then presented with a small food menu. You’re seated next to Kai, Ren is right across from you, and Junichi is to his right. You watch a waitress usher Nanami, Choso, Geto and Gojo to one of the tables as well, two away from yours, and you forcefully blur your vision so you don’t have to catch sight of the expression on Gojo’s face.

“So,” Ren speaks up as his eyes peruse the food menu and Junichi waves the waitress over to order a round of sake, “tell me more about your experience, sweetheart.”

You blink at him, eyes feeling heavy, heart feeling heavy. “I’d prefer it if you called me by my name.”

Ren lets out a coo, and you briefly glance at Kai who’s shaking his head with a sigh. “My bad, y/n. Your experience?”

Your hands play with the folder sitting in your lap. “I started writing screenplays for small-scale directors when I was a freshman, and was greenlit on a couple into my sophomore year. One of the films I worked on, I had directing credits for, and it was nominated for best screenplay at Etoile Film Festival the year following.”

Ren swallows slightly, shifting in his chair and pushing his shoulders back, like he’s trying to establish himself now. Kai is clenching a fist on the surface of the table.

Ren clears his throat before speaking again. “Wow, okay, so you’ve actually got some serious shit going on.” His voice is a faux octave deeper. “What do you know about being a good assistant? Ever worked in customer service? Secretary?”

“Oh, I mean I have worked in customer service, but I wasn’t done sharing about my experience—” you try to say but Junichi cuts you off.

“First round’s on me,” he declares, “for bringing her out here.” He tips his chin to you and then sends Kai a glance.

A waitress brings by a bottle of sake, and Junichi begins pouring drinks into the glasses, then slides them across the table. Kai gives Ren a pointed look. 

“Don’t get too wasted,” Kai says to him as he brings his glass to his lips, “you start running that mouth of yours a little too much when you do.”

Ren grins at him and immediately knocks down the glass Junichi barely finished pouring from him in one go, and the gruff man beside him is grumbling. “Whatever you say.”

Something had been bothering you since you came here. “Wait,” you say, pointing between Kai and Ren, “do you two know each other already? Because,” you turn to look at Kai, “on the phone earlier, you sounded like you didn’t.”

Kai’s eyebrows raise in surprise, as though he’s discovered you have some skill for foresight. You glance at Ren, and he gives Kai a puzzled look.

“Uh, yeah. I’ve known Kai for years,” he says, “we go way back. We went to highschool together.”

Kai shifts a little in his chair. “Sorry. Probably forgot to mention it.”

You glance down at the glass of sake in front of you, and the way it twinkles under the lighting of the bar. You slowly bring it to your mouth, taking a small sip, and the way it coats your tongue is less than pleasing. 

“Can you tell me more about the assistant position?” you ask Ren, who’s emptied out the bottle of sake and waving someone over to order more. He already has a slightly flush to his face.

“Yeah, yeah, will do,” he says, “but first, let me tell you about what I do in visuals.”

Another round of sake is dropped by, and then another, followed by another, as Ren continues to ramble on and on about what he does for work, and how it’s entirely integral to the final piece of the film, although you’ve never really had a terrible level of appreciation for visual effects in short-film craft, since it’s hardly much work. But you wouldn’t say that, you just continue to nurse your one glass of sake as the three men surrounding you knock back more and more, and there’s slurs to their speeches now.

“Sooo, I’m so sorry, sweetheart—I mean y/n, for cuttin’ you off earlier,” he says, “but what was that experience you wanted to talk to me about?” Ren asks from across the table, and his eyes are all traveling over you.

“I…” you start, “well, I started to work with one of my professors last year, she’s a two-time Cannes Film Festival winner, and she let me under her wing for one of her projects last year.”

“Who is she? Oh wait, nevermind, probably wouldn’t have heard of her anyways,” Ren says, but when you fail to laugh, he waves his hand in the air. “Joking, joking. What’s her name?”

“Naoko. Naoko Ogigami.”

“Oh shit. I have heard of her,” Ren says, followed by a shallow hiccup. Junichi shrugs his shoulders, and when you look at Kai, he’s nodding slowly and toying with the rim of his glass with a finger.

“Yes. Well, anyways—” you start up again, before Kai sets his glass of sake down particularly loud.

“This is all bullshit. Really. I told you, filmmaking is a waste of time. Just focus on your photography, and your freelance or whatnot,” Kai says, grit to his jaw, face looking red with possibly something other than just a tipsiness. 

Ren lets out a laugh. “Fuckin’ Kai. What a pessimist. Don’t listen to him, sweetheart,” he says, slurred, and you furrow your brow at him with a glare, “sorry. Don’t listen to him. Trust me, you’ll learn a lot under Mr. Ko. He’s a suuuper nice guy.”

“What’s the compensation?” you ask. It’s a brazen question, one you’d never ask so soon in a formal interview process, but this table was hardly anything formal.

“Real good. Mmm I think like…5200 yen an hour, and then also, you get your foot in the door.”

“Oh,” you sit up a little in your chair. It was higher than most entry-level anything for undergraduates or even new grads. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he drawls when he sees you’re more interested. “Good stuff. Kai used to pick these kinds of jobs up, too, back in his college days. I remember. Although, he’s hardly Mr. Ko’s type, so I doubt he’d be any good for this one.”

Your head snaps to Ren again at his words, face tensing. 

“Tell her about what a job like this—hic—entails,” Ren says as he extends his glass out for Junichi to pour him another.

Kai glances at Ren once, and you watch him grind his teeth for a moment, and then there’s a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Oh. Y’know, clerical work. Stuff like printing scripts out,” Kai starts, Junichi filling up his glass and then he raises it into the air to watch the liquid swish around, “grabbing him coffee. Making sure his trailer is stocked.”

“Blowing him in said trailer,” Ren says. It’s something quiet, under his breath with a small laugh, where you could barely hear it across the table. But you heard it nonetheless. And your heart sinks to the core of the earth.

“Excuse me?” you say. The benefit of doubt sitting on your shoulder, watching in disbelief as well.

“He’s joking,” Kai says, quickly, “runnin’ his mouth.”

“Oh fuck off, Kai,” Ren says, throwing his hands up in the air, “don’t act like that’s not why you brought her here.”

Your head slowly turns to Kai, who can’t meet your gaze. Your eyes flicker to Junichi, who looks amused. 

Ren leans over the table, elbows resting on top, to look you straight in the eyes. He’s got a sleazy smile, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath, and he dips his tone down low enough to where you can hardly hear it over the sounds surrounding you in the bar. “That’s how you’ll make it in this industry, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not, you’ll be working under those directors until you make it.”

You stand up so fast that your chair falls behind you, hand raised in the air, and you swiftly slap the man across from you so hard across the cheek that it leaves his skin even more red than the flush from before, and your palm is stinging. 

There’s gasps all around the bar, hushed voices, eyes on you, but you don’t care. There’s not a single thing in the world you care more about right now than the anger swelled in your chest.

Ren holds his cheek, surprised, blinking like a pathetic animal. He almost looks like he’s about to cry, and you let out a scoff at the sight.

You turn to face Kai, whose eyes are wide and he’s staring up at you. Your fists are clenched at your side.

“Is this why you brought me here tonight?” you ask. Your voice is trembling, anxiety at the wake, the white anger spotting your vision. But there’s also pain. So much pain, and you’re just so fed up with all of it. “Because your belittling, condescending words weren’t enough to tear my hopes apart, so you had to humiliate me in front of your friends instead?”

Kai holds his hand up. “Woah, Canon, relax. He was just joking—…” Kai glances at Ren, who’s still holding his cheek and biting down on his lip, and then his gaze hardens. “Y’know what? It’s about fucking time you get this wake-up call, y/n. I’ve been trying to do the nice thing to steer you in the right direction, and the least you could—”

“Steer me in the right fucking direction?!” you’re yelling now, registering the way your voice echoes in the bar. “You know what I think this is all about, Kai?” You grit your teeth, “You’re a sick, stupid, sexist fuck who didn’t have the balls to go after what he wanted. So miserably pathetic that you’ve got no other fucking business than to pull people down to your level.”

Kai pinches his eyebrows together, hand on the table clenching into a fist. 

You lean down closer, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Why don’t you go be his assistant instead? Since I’m sure you’re good at taking it up the ass.”

Kai’s eyes twitch, “you fucking—”

You grab his glass off the table and throw the alcohol into his face, eliciting another round of noises around the bar, and his mouth falls agape in shock before he gets up out of his chair, hand reaching out to grab for you. You close your eyes shut with a flinch to expect pain. Any sort of pain. But you don’t feel anything at all.

When you open your eyes, you see Gojo standing to your left, veins of his arm tense with the tight grip he has on Kai’s forearm, and you can see he’s practically shaking with rage. He steps in front of you, guarding, and you can’t see the expression on his face, but the fear in Kai’s eyes is enough to say it all.

“That’s enough,” he says, the clench of his jaw evident through the strain in his voice, “try to put your hands on her again, and I’ll split your fucking face in half.”

You can see Kai’s breathing pick up from where you’re peering over Gojo’s shoulder, and then Gojo shoves him backwards right as Choso kicks the fallen chair to his feet so he trips over it backwards then hits the ground with a loud and indignant thud.

Gojo’s hovering over Kai, his hands shoved in his pockets as he glares down at him, while Geto and Nanami put space between you and the other two men at your table. You feel a searing flush to your cheeks. You’re breathing fast, the peering eyes all around you are scrutinizing, looking at you with surprise, confusion, shock, and pity. Your mind is racing, and you wonder what your parents would think of all this. What your friends would think of all of this. What the people who support you would think of the fucked up situation you’ve found yourself in, and the humiliation courses so deep through your veins that you just want to run away and hide. The ground could swallow you whole right now, and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You take one step back, then another, before you turn on your heel to rush out the door into the night, and you barely register that it’s raining. You can feel your heart thumping fast in your chest and in your head, that familiar knot in your throat twisting tight as you walk fast down the street and ignore Gojo’s call of your name from behind you.

You don’t want to see anyone right now. You don’t want to be seen by anyone right now. Especially Gojo, of all people, because he was right about everything, and the fact that you had shut him down about it, and the way that you had shut him down about it makes your head numb and your breathing pick up fast.

“y/n,” you hear him call out from behind you, his pace is getting faster and so you’re resorting to longer strides as well, puddles of water splashing under your feet with every step, “just wait—”

“I’m seriously,” you start, and the tears begin to fall, “I’m seriously so, so, so, so, so fucking embarassed right now,” you gasp out the words with no air left in your lungs to breathe as you continue to run away from him, “so please, just leave me alone.”

You can picture it all in your head. Something like I told you so from his lips, because after what you’ve been put through tonight, you just want to assume the worst in people.

But just as you round the corner into an alley, feeling lost with the sight of a dead end, you feel a hand wrap around your arm and then you’re being pulled into an embrace.

Your eyes are blinking with tears streaming, your face buried in a chest that is warm, with a heart beating so fast that it’s keeping time with your own, and the fragrance that surrounds you is so painfully him that it makes you sob even more.

Strong arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and Gojo rests his chin at the top of your head. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, and you can feel the rumble of his voice, “I just needed to stop you from running.”

Your arms are weakly raised, an outline over his torso but not yet grabbing on, until you hesitantly do. And when you hold onto him, it’s so tight and strong, and you realize that after everything between the two of you, it’s the first time you’ve been wrapped in his arms.

“I feel so stupid,” you start, already hating the words because you want to be stronger right now, but you can’t.

“You’re not stupid,” he quickly corrects you, “those guys are fucking insecure losers. You’re just trying your best. You always have, for as long as I’ve known you, and it’s something you should be proud of yourself for.”

You don’t know what to say to him, you just cling to the damp fabric of his shirt in the rain.  

“Things are going to work out for you, no matter what, because I know you’ve got what it takes and you’re willing to work hard for it,” he says, his chin nuzzling so you’re tucked into him even further, “and if things don’t work out, that’s okay, you’re strong and you’ll always get back up. And I want to be there to help you through everything.”

You pull your face from his chest to stare up at him, droplets of rain falling to your face and making you flinch occasionally. “I’m confused.”

His hand comes up to cup your face, swiping at a tear on your cheek, or maybe it was rain. “I thought that—” he starts, his thumb briefly running over the small cut still healing on your cheek, his brow furrowing, “I thought that I’d be okay with watching your life from afar, through cropped pictures on a screen,” he says, a chill running through you, “but I can’t. It’s killing me. And I’m really sorry that it took me this long to tell you this, but I like you so much and I really want to be with you.”

Your eyes widen at his words, and you don’t know how to feel. You push your face into his chest again. His thumb runs circles at your side through the dampness of your shirt.

“There are a lot of reasons I didn’t feel like I could date you, or show up for you,” he says, “but the pain of not getting to be with you, of not getting to hold you, and just share my life with you is way worse than whatever reasons I kept trying to convince myself of.”

You nod slowly, because there was a part of you deep inside that knew that all along. 

His grip on you relaxes slightly and you take that as a request from him for you to look up at him, so you do. “I know I’ve put you through a lot of pain, and I’m really not a perfect person, but if there’s room in your heart to forgive me, I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to make you feel happy and cared for.”

Your eyes study his face for sincerity. They’re words you’ve been wanting to hear, words you could’ve pictured in your head, but the adoration in his eyes makes you realize you never could’ve imagined the true sweetness of those words when they’re said from him.

You press your cheek to his chest again. You’re not crying anymore. “I’m sorry for what I said to you earlier. About kicking a soccer ball, and having it easy,” you bite down on your lip, because now there’s tears in your eyes again, “I didn’t mean it.” You sniffle a little, “I know you work hard. And it was a really mean thing to say.”

He sighs, holding you flush to himself. His cheek presses against the top of your head. “That’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for that.”

“But I do.”

There was no grudge at all. There was nothing withdrawn from you, nothing taken away as punishment. He just held onto you, exactly as you are, and you felt so safe in every second you spent in his arms.

You look up at him again. His hair is damp, strands clinging to his face in all the places they usually fall over, droplets of rain falling from his fringe onto your face and he does everything he can to wipe them away. “It’s too late,” you tell him, and he immediately knows what you’re referring to.

He just holds you closer. “I know.”

“I don’t have feelings for you anymore,” you say through a sniffle.

He knows you’re lying, and that you say it just out of spite, but he holds your head to his chest. “I know.”

“You’ll have to beg and grovel, and even then, I might not like you ever again,” you say, gripping so tightly onto his shirt for purchase, your voice sounding muffled as you breathe in the scent of him. “That’s your punishment.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. A firm press of his lips, lasting as he takes a few deep breaths. And then he kisses the same spot again, staying still in that position as he repeats himself.

“I know.”

--

a/n. phewww thank you for reading, i swear, this chapter felt like a goddamn war to write. my emotions were all over the damn place, i think cause i wrote from a place of bitter experience lol. i dedicate this chap to my lovely friend she’s a film major (she inspired me to create this story) and i srs wouldn’t be able to write kickoff without her 😭💕 dear M♥︎, i thought of you sm while writing this chapter, i can only hope i’ve captured even the slightest bit of the understanding i will always aim to have of you, and that you feel seen. i’m incredibly proud of you, always rooting for you, so often thinking of you, and terribly missing you so much rn (plsssssss visit meee😩💔 ) dedicated w sm love 💕 -bitchasshoe this chapter is also dedicated to anyone who’s going through a hard times n maybe just trying to figure themselves out :”) i am so proud of you, you should be so proud of yourself, there’s still so much to live and learn, and i hope the universe blesses you w everything you’ve ever wanted!! big thank u to my lovely m00t @quinnyundertow she pulled me out of my writers block for this chapter and also beta read a lot of it for me there’s only three chapters left for kickoff (i’m gonna cry just thinking ab it :”)) which doesnt sound like a lot but there’s still a lot i’ve got planned 😭 i’m just noticing that i very poorly planned the second half of this series. chapters 1-6 combined have less words than chapters 7-9 combined 😅✨ sooooo i may increase the chapters from 12 to 14 by splitting them up to make it easier on me, or just stick to the plan and come out with long chapters like the last two. idk. i’ll figure it out. thank u to everyone for reading i love you all dearly 😭💕 i’ll see you in the next one!!

➸ take me to chapter ten!

➸ wrote some kickoff headcanons here

--

taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd @ronniebird @bloopsstuff @mwtsxri @witchbybirth @tetsuski @fffinskye @gh0ulkz @beabadobeee @mandysfanfics @erencvlt @laviefantasie @sukunamylovexoxo @girlkissersco @itzjuliana @yell0wdreams @1dimas7 @strayedjeno @mo0nforme @yungbloode @sullybrothersmate @oaooaoaoaoa @swagangelllamawolf @banenemilk @inniesblog

(hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)

[miupow]

⋮ ♯; ⤷ SILENT TREATMENT W/ TXT .ᐟ

how tubatu reacts to you using the silent treatment on them after an argument!

★ ── ot5 x gn!reader ⸝⸝ fluff, slight angst, suggestive in soobin’s, arguing and making up, pouty yeonjun lol, petty gyu, serious bf tyun, kais is genuinely kind of sad

੭ ⭑ 𓂃⠀⠀⠀ [ m. list ] ⭑ [ reblogs and feedback appreciated! ]

. . . SOOBIN !

originally acts like he doesn’t care

thinks the silent treatment is childish and gets kind of spiteful about ignoring you back

but he hates you being mad at him more than anything in the world and he breaks pretty fast

being without your love is unbearable for him :’( he can’t stand staying away from you

and the more he’s left to stew about your fight the more guilty he feels about hurting your feelings

gives you a big, heartfelt apology with gifts and cuddles and sweet kisses and hot rough makeup sex

. . . YEONJUN !

gets so pouty omg

he will actually die and wither away from lack of attention you don’t understand this is the end for him

follows you around like a lost puppy begging for attention and kisses </3

literally whining like a big baby

genuinely doesn’t know what he did wrong

but would do absolutely anything you wanted to fix it

and you just won’t tell him what he did!! and it’s driving him insane!! just tell him what he did wrong so he can fix it and make everything right again??

will just pester you until you break

. . . BEOMGYU !

oh you wanna play games now?? beomgyu won’t talk to you either.

will make it a big competition on who can keep it up for longer or who will get sick of it first

he’s so petty it’s not even funny the silent treatment is like a warzone with him

you’re the one to break first lmao

he’s lowk even better at it than you are and it drives you insane like you’re not even the one that’s mad???

so after a while you’re just like fine ugh lol

will stop when you stop tho, ready to talk it out and apologize and make amends ^^ never holds any grudges or hard feelings about silly fights

. . . TAEHYUN !

honestly kind of pisses him off

he’s very big about open communication in your relationship so he would be irritated that you wanted to be petty about the fight instead of talking it out with him

tyun hates arguments more than anything and he will not let any dumb silent treatment last longer than an afternoon

he will get you to talk to him dammit!

but tyuns just so gentle with you, he doesn’t want to upset you any more than you already were by getting angry

 gives you your space for a bit and then will sit next to you and get you to talk with him regardless of if you like it or not

and you will make up. he will make sure of it.

he will talk to the back of your head for hours he doesn’t care try him

. . . HUENING KAI !

literally devastated

like genuinely it hurts his feelings really bad pls don’t do that to him :’(

literally pleading for you to talk to him

you being upset with him makes him physically ill actually like nauseous with distress because you got into a fight

will say he’s sorry a thousand times even if he’s not sure what he’s sorry for

you can’t keep it up with kai so vulnerable

no matter the fight you always forgive hyuka quickly because you just can’t stay mad at him

clings to you and won’t let go for the rest of the night

[mortalmab]

Merlin puts up a sheet in the armory where all the knights can see. It’s their names in brackets like a tourney list. They were not aware there was a tourney coming up? What is this?

They notice Merlin observing them and making some notations. Not just during practice but all day. When he sees them around the castle, when they are relaxing at the Rising Sun, everywhere. It’s getting unnerving.

After a few days, some of them have moved up in the lists and some have not. And they have no idea why. Sir Ban seems to have bested Sir Agravaine (though let’s be honest, most of them would say they weren’t surprised). Sir Gareth won against Sir Kay and would now be facing off against Sir Devore who had won against Sir Mellion.

Now the knights are on their best behavior whenever Merlin is around. They still aren’t sure what they are being judged on, but damn if they aren’t going to WIN!

The next time the brackets go up, more knights are knocked out of the running for…whatever the criteria are.

The knights are now doing their absolute best on the practice fields. King Arthur commends each of them for their form - on point like he has never seen. Some kind of fire has been lit under them and he doesn’t know why but he likes it!

The next brackets go up and still they are no closer to figuring out why the winners are winning. You would think they would be insufferable about it - like any tournament - but since they don’t know why they were winning, they can’t be sure they are doing the right thing to win next time.

The knights of Camelot are suddenly the most chivalrous, most well behaved, most dedicated to their craft in all of Albion. The people are amazed at their sudden kindness and generosity. Meanwhile each of them grow more and more paranoid as the brackets keep going up.

Quests! Maybe it was quests? The knights start going out on quests and the word fame of Camelot spreads.

Arthur cannot figure out what has come over them all.

Arthur: Merlin, have the knights seemed…different to you?

Merlin: oh, you mean since I put up the lists?

Arthur:…what lists?

Merlin: the lists where they think they are competing with each other.

Arthur: competing for what?

Merlin: I have no idea what they think they are competing for but they sure are working hard to win it!

Arthur: and how exactly are you determining these “winners?”

Merlin: oh I’m just flipping a coin. They don’t know that though and they are all being extra nice to me😁

Arthur: so this was all…

Merlin: for shits and giggles, yeah

[novelbear]

valentine's day scenarios (but it's enemies to lovers)

prompt list by @novelbear

"you have a date? how much did you pay them?"

crashing their date with another person purposely

^ and it all was definitely out of spite. not because they were jealous. never. totally not.

sending them flowers that they just know sets off their allergies

^ probably left with some smartass note too

laughing at them simply because they seem to care about the holiday

"you celebrate this corny day?" "just say you're lonely and have no one to spend it with, next time, 'kay?"

"i told my friends i'd go on this stupid double date with them." "and that's my business because..?" "..i don't have a date."

catfishing the hell out of them online leading up to the holiday

and then it backfiring because they realize, they're actually pretty nice and sweet outside of all the arguing.

"i thought bringing you roses would be a romantic! you know!?" "not when they still have the thorns on them, dumbass!"

giving them those boxed chocolates, but replacing the filling with something else instead (like wasabi for example lmao)

"you've been teasing me all this time about being single just for you to get stood up?" "....." "move over, you're lucky i'm hungry."

giving the other candies because it was simply "left over" and "definitely stale"

perfect chance for a little secret admirer thing to go on since one may be just too embarrassed or scared to face things head on

[iceunhie]

— phaethetically in love !

premise. belle thinks her brother is the most oblivious person in sixth street. the reason? one: because his (super obvious) crush on you is practically the worst kept secret in new eridu, and two: because he can't even see that said crush is reciprocated! good thing he has one (1) amazing, wonderful, nosy sister to help him out, yeah?

or, belle thinks the two of you are a prime example of an s tier romance movie; and she really wants to skip to the final arc already.

pairing. wise x gn!reader.

warnings: kinda ooc wise (i just started the game), wise is a loser (lovingly), belle is an instigator (proudly), comedy, facepalm moments.

a/n: for @vxnuslogy and @milksnake-tea bc yes wise kissers yes

MY (rlly cool btw 🥺) MASTERLIST || INBOX !

“you're in love with [name], aren't you?”

like all siblings in the world—or what's left of it, belle schemes.

(against wise, of course. obviously.)

her brother bursts into a mess immediately, nearly spilling his cup ramen all over his new shirt, chopsticks sticking out. laughing nervously. general chop would not be proud. “who told you that? i mean— haha, who said that, belle?”

his sister rolls her eyes. “me, myself. i.” she emphasizes, leaning her elbows against the table and putting her palms together; the grin she wears right now is so serene, but not in the angelic, nice way. belle smiles and wise finally thinks, oh. my sister may need to book herself to the closest self-help guru in new eridu.

“i have reason to believe that you, my dearest brother, are in love with [name].”

her voice goes up an octave at the last bit, leading wise to stuff her mouth with potato chips. already, heads have turned. “mff.”

“keep your voice down! and stop broadcasting it to everyone here-”

“what, i am right, aren't i? they clearly like you back, so why haven't you confessed yet?”

“keep. your. voice. down.” wise says, and belle's shit eating grin only widens as she sees her brother's ears tinged with pink. “and... how did you even know that?” he asks, mortified.

“well, one: because it's obvious—like, have you seen how obvious you are?” belle huffs, taking a bite of the potato chip with force (personal grudges are involved). “and two, because they like you back, dummy!”

because when belle sees the two of you together, it's like wise focuses on no one else. you are the center of his world—and he is just being pulled to bask in your light. his eyes soften like they melt only for you, and wise looks like all he is is, all he wants to be, is to belong with you.

(and, wise likes to stare at you for ungodly amounts of time. belle even caught him staring when you were petting a cat by the street and decided to name the stray ‘wise’; courtesy of him, apparently. the cat literally just had grey fur.

“wise.”

“hm?”

“you're practically spawning heart eyes now.”)

it's sickening. (in a oh my god my brother is in love kind of way, mind you.)

“so!” belle says, a devilish sparkle in her eyes. “allow your dearest sister to help you out, 'kay?”

wise nearly coughs up blood.

“what?!”

so at present, belle compiles her (hastily written) list of romantic moments you and wise have shared. she's not surprised—the number can be counted on one hand. diabolical, disappointing, world-ending! she resists the urge to cough up blood.

first, a coff cafe date with tin man's help: a fail. tin man's wingman capabilities were very superb, but she never heard the end of it when wise was lecturing her about how tin man kept sending over heart shaped desserts and little fortune cookies. the fortune cookies in question which said ‘you can do it!’ and a latte with art of caricature tin man making a heart. (you were very confused). belle thought it was motivating. wise thought it was mortifying.

next, even instilling help from fairy to calculate statistics about what event would you two be likely to be together. fairy said, and belle quotes: “probably never. that kind of pining's for the long run, with the other master's current experience. give it a year or six, master.”

so, she's currently face-palming.

did her brother really have zero game? why were the two of you just dancing around each other?! she's tried everything—from letting you two spend more time with each other in commissions, her inviting you over more to leave you to chat with her brother, and even the entirety of sixth street has lent their aid! how were you two not dating yet?!

“didn't they go on an arcade date at random play yesterday?” belle mutters. “that should've increased your progress by a long mile, bro! even general chop said you two were really, really close in the noodle shop....”

just what was she going to do now? at this rate, her brother would be relationshipless in no time! in fairy's words again, it would be phaethetic. and that would be a phaethal blow on her pride.

“...master, i said no such thing.”

“well, now you did.”

“The Ethereal Reckoning,” there's a pep in your step, the boxes full of movie DVDs in your arms as you walk back to the movie store. it was heavy, but at least you got to walk with the grey-haired proxy beside you. “That movie was great! Thanks for recommending it to me.”

Sporting a dopey, lovesick grin in response, wise nods at that, content to listen to your voice. it was actually belle's idea to let you lend movies you like over so the two of you could talk about it back and forth. wise would need to (begrudgingly) treat her to a bowl of ramen later on.... she saved him—he probably wouldn't even be talking to you for this long at this point, let alone hang out with you without her. for someone so nosy, he guesses his sister was a pretty good wingwoman.

“the main character was pretty similar to billy, you know?” you ramble on as wise listens. “i mean, because they were an android too, and...”

he finds that he's content to listen to anything you say, really. (right now he doesn't really know what you're saying, something about a horror ethereal movie, but you could just tell him anything and he would listen).

“i feel like the heroine's death was unnecessary, though.” you sigh, “too much tension just for it to end like that? how anticlimactic.”

your voice was so nice, so warm and easy to listen to, and wise can't even say anything to retort, simply staring with a growing (lovesick) smile on his face. talking to people was hard work, and talking to you? it might just make him combust.

“...ise? wise?”

“ah, huh?” he snaps out of his trance, only to find you mere inches away from his face, the only thing keeping you apart the boxes full of movies he's carrying. “...!”

“are you listening?” you furrow, and someone really might be out to get him right now because in that moment, wise flinches from the proximity, bumping into you.

then, because the universe thinks his life couldn't get more dramatic than it already was—you stagger, about to fall forward.

he moves before he thinks. “watch out!”

and wise.... practically astral-projects to another plane when he feels you fall into his arms, his hands on your waist. he can feel the warmth of your skin on his, the flustered look on your face. (he feels like he's going to die).

the two of you lock eyes for a moment, and wise feels like he's about to so something very stupid and his hands are still on your waist—

“....”

“.....”

someone save him.

“ah...”

“sorry!” you recover first, hurriedly letting yourself pull away from him (much to his disappointment). “i wasn't looking, and i- are you okay, wise?”

“no, no, it's fine.... i-i'm fine....” he hopes his voice isn't as small as it is, he couldn't be smooth to save his life; and wise helps you gather your bearings, his hands brushing against yours, blood rushing to his ears. sheepishly rubbing at his nape. “sorry, i was distracted.”

perhaps in the mood to lift the atmosphere, you sputter out, “no worries! it's fine! besides, you listened to me all this time.... i really enjoyed the movie, really.”

“of course i'll listen.” and before wise can think to stop his traitor of a mouth, the words spill out of his lips like it always wanted to be.

“you're worth paying attention to.”

it's automatic—your face heats up, warming like the sun on a hot day in new eridu, and god, he is such an idiot-

“you think so?” wise gulps. you looked bashful, and were way too adorable right now, and his face felt like it was on fire.... wait, that's not the point! he has to answer you, at least. this is a chance to make progress!

“y-yeah. definitely. i enjoyed... watching the movie with you.” he says. did his voice just crack just now? “we can hang out more often too, even without belle.”

he feels bad for throwing his sister under the bus like that, but—wait, did he just ask you out on a date? (accidentally)

well, it didn't matter because wise feels like he won the lottery right now, because you brighten up immediately. “really?”

then you cough and compose yourself. “i mean, sure! i'm sure it'll be fun, haha...”

awkward silence ensues. uh oh, did he say something wrong? was he too forward? he wants to say something, but something is lodged in his throat, and wise can't bring up a response. (his heart was beating like crazy right now, though).

“uh...”

“....”

then, something soft brushes against the side of his cheek. as fast as it was felt, wise felt the sensation leave just as easily. did you just-?

you just kissed him. on the cheek.

“thanks for hanging out with me, wise.”

“you're welcome- wha- huh?!” he nearly drops the stack of dvd's he was holding. you pull away, an enigmatic smile on your face. face flushed.

before he can even respond, the two of you finally arrive at the movie store. damn it, gods of the world. why did his luck run out now?

“i guess this is your stop.” he blinks, your voice coming back to him. “and, wise?”

“ah, uh, yeah?”

“it's a date, then?” your eyes sparkle and shine a light through his heart. super effective!

is this really happening? is he really going on a date with you—oh, he's so thrilled he could actually burst into song and kick his feet, but belle would tease him ruthlessly after. nosy sisters were so much work....

“yes!” he almost yells it out, but because he didn't want to look uncool in front of you, wise composes himself. play it cool, play it cool. don't mess up this chance! “yes, definitely. it's... it's a date.”

you put down the other stack of dvd's down the table, flashing him a dizzying, lovely smile smile. wise swears he falls even harder for you.

“then it's a date.”

BONUS.

“seriously?! you're going on a date with them?!” belle shouts, so unceremoniously that wise slaps a hand on her mouth.

“not so loud! but, yeah.” he says, face heating up. “your plan worked, sis.”

“yes! yes! finally!” his sister practically cheers, “i can finally be free of your sickening heart eyes... and finally, our street's most anticipated couple is here!”

wise can't help but sigh in fond exasperation. he guesses he'll let her have this one today.

“also, belle?”

“what?”

“you didn't tell anyone about this, did you?”

...

“uhh....”

(on the day of the date, wise receives an abnormal amount of good luck posters. he also gets a disturbing amount of thumbs up from the neighbors.

the last straw? tin man, giving him a baked cake with the words ‘rooting for you!’ covered in pink heart sprinkles.

he facepalms. belle...!)

a/n: d d do you guys get it..... phaethetically...... phaethon..... wise is phaethon and he's awkward in love lol hahahahaha (💀)

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

[rizsu]

the cat accident or incident ? gojo satoru.

sum. what happens when you mindlessly pick up things without reading when shopping // short drabble, satoru turns ur cat into a minion ( ref image at the end )

"would you love me if i was a worm?"

"no."

"what about if i was a dinosaur?"

"you'd be dead."

"okay, what if i was a skunk?"

"satoru, what do you want?"

he fakes a laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "whatever do you mean, my dear?"

you sighed, reverting your attention from your laptop to him. in this house, online shopping is near impossible when satoru's around. it's painfully obvious he's up to something mischievous — or, he will be up to something.

a long stare in silence doesn't take long to break him. plopping himself on the bed, he raises both hands in a defensive gesture before speaking, "okay, don't get mad at me but i think i accidentally dyed our cat purple."

"you WHAT?!" you sit up, shoving your laptop off your thighs. out of everything he could've done, accidentally dying the cat purple was not in your list. you give satoru a simple task and trust he will find a way to make it difficult.

he waves his hands side-to-side, standing up to justify himself, "i didn't mean to i swear—" he cuts himself off, taking your hand to lead you to his disaster. "actually, just come see for yourself."

entering the bathroom, a shocked gasp escapes you. the scene is just chaotic: a bathtub coloured purple, a cat that's busy with his tail, discarded gloves, and a bottle of purple shampoo. you tiptoe around the wet floor, bending over to carefully retrieve your beloved cat from the disaster.

"babyyy, look what you did! he's purple now!" you complained, giving gojo a 360 view of the cat.

"oh my god, it's almost as if i didn't know that," he replies sarcastically, forcefully grabbing the damned bottle that started everything. this marks the beginning of him explaining the previous matter.

"i bought this a while ago thinking it was one of those colour correction shampoos, right? lo and fucking behold it turned the thing purple," he wiggles the shampoo in his hand, screwing his face at it.

you're not looking at him, too busy pouting at your now-purple cat, "hey, he's not 'the thing', his name is toots!"

"babe, that's not any better."

"yeah, yeah. unpurple my cat before tomorrow, satoru," you changed your voice's tone, replicating one that warns him of what's to come if he doesn't restore your toots back to his colour.

gojo does nothing but rolls his eyes, squinting at the cat. he's not even worried about it, he thinks, observing the way toots calmly enjoys being in your arms. the privilege he has is tremendous. he's all purple staining your clothes but had gojo been the one he would've been sent to the next year.

"stupid cat."

"did you say something, satoru?"

"yeah, i said i'll book an appointment at the pet's shop thing."

"'kay," you gave him a quick smile before it turned into a pout again. the sight of your toots saddens you. he now looks like the purple, crazy minions.

the purple minion:

[adrienneleclerc]

Book Boyfriend Challenge

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: where Y/N has her fiancé reciting lines from her 3 book boyfriends.

Warning: 18+ lines used, spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: I’m also working on an alternative version where Y/N has no idea Charles has read her books and decides to recite the same lines to see how she reacts, let me know of you want that posted. This takes place in the same universe as The Drive Thru Test

Y/N has seen TikToks of couples doing this challenge so he has picked out three books, Throttled by Lauren Asher, Eleven Eleven by Micaela Smeltzer, and Camera Shy by Kay Cove.

“Charles, muñeco, Can you come here for a second?” Y/N called from their living room, the books lined up on the coffee table. Charles comes in from the kitchen.

“Yes, Mon ange?” Charles asked.

“I have another TikTok challenge for us to try.” Y/N said. Charles playfully rolled his eyes and sat besides her on the couch.

“What is the challenge, Mon ange?” Charles asked. Y/N smiled.

“Okay so I have 3 books here, they are my favorite book boyfriends, there’s Noah Slade, Finn Harvey, and Reid Astor Crawford, I personally love these books, but I want you to choose whatever lines from these 3 books and recite them.” Y/N asked. Charles picked up the Throttled book.

“You’ve read an F1 romance book?” Charles asked, flipping through the pages. “Is bandini supposed to be Ferrari? Have you read this thinking about me?” Charles kept asking questions.

“Okay so I’m not the only one who fan casts you as Noah Slade, I’ve seen people make TikToks casting you as Noah, Lewis Hamilton is Jax, Carlos Sainz is Santiago, I’ve seen very mixed opinions about Liam, sometimes is Sebastian Vettel, others it’s Max Verstappen…” Y/N was explaining but Charles cut her off.

“You actually like this Noah guy?!? He’s such an asshole in the beginning.” Charles said as he was reading the first few pages of the book. “I can’t believe people imagine me as Noah.” Charles mumbled. “I’m a nice guy!”

“Muñeco, just pick a line, I’ll let you read the book after we’re done.” Y/N said,

“Fine.” Charles said. It took Charles a few seconds to pick a perfect line. “Okay, I got it.” Charles cleared his throat. “I’m not like any of the guys you’ve been with before. I May not be your first fuck, but I might as well be.” Charles said and Y/N started giggling. “What’s so funny, ma Belle?”

“Nothing, it’s just you’re so cute, I can’t imagine you saying this. But I must admit, your accent makes it hot.” Y/N confessed, kissing Charles. They broke away and Charles said the other line he has chosen.

“You’re a naughty little thing.” Charles tried to say in a seductive matter and Y/N covered her face with her hands.

“Okay that was hot.” Y/N confessed and now it was Charles’s turn to giggle.

“Okay this line is so stupid. ‘But I fuck like an A-list porno.’ I don’t know what more shocking, that the author thought it was a good line, or that you actually like that, I see you blushing, Mon ange.” Charles said and Y/N just shook her head.

“I like the book! Also, lines like this work because it is fictional, if a real man tried to say this to me, I would laugh in their face. But again, I think your accent makes it acceptable.” Y/N said and Charles kissed her.

“Okay I’m keeping this book, I need to know what people imagine me act like.” Charles said, getting off the couch to place Throttled in their bedroom on his side of the dresser. He came back, sitting next to Y/N, and chose the next book, Eleven Eleven. He was skimming until… “HE JUST TURNED 21?!?” Charles asked yelling. “She’s 32, that feels illegal, Mon ange, come on.”

“If you forget about the age, the way he is considerate, sweet, yet kinda cocky is such a turn on for me.” Y/N said.

“Am I competing with your book boyfriends?” Charles asked,

“If you really had to ask…” Y/N muttered. Charles found the line he wanted to refute but first he wanted to have a heavy make out session so Y/N would have full effect of the line. He leaned in to kiss her, he slightly bites her lower lip to insert his tongue in her mouth, both tongues fighting for dominance, Y/N had her hands in his hair but Charles was the one to light pull on her hair, making her moan. They pulled away and Y/N was panting/breathing heavily. Charles had his hand on Y/N’s inner thigh, rubbing lightly.

“Don’t get shy on me now, not when my tongue has been all over this sweet pussy.” Charles said and Y/N just stared at him incredulously.

“I can’t believe you got me hot and bothered just to say that line.” Y/N pouted and Charles laughed. “But that line worked on me, can’t lie.” Charles then cupped Y/N’s face in his hands.

“No man is ever going to make you feel this good. Not the way I can.” Charles said, ending the sentence in a cute little smirk.

“I thought I was going to cringe at some of the lines, but so far so good. You’re doing great, mi vida.” Y/N said, giving Charles a quick peck before he picks up the last book. “I know a lot of people on GoodReads are not a fan but I really liked it, I related to Avery so much.” Y/N said with a pout and Charles faintly smiled while reading the first few pages.

“This Mason guy is an asshole.” Charles said.

“I know! Like who dumps someone in their birthday?” Y/N said. Charles nods in agreement and starts skimming a few pages.

“He’s a boudoir photographer?” Charles asked and Y/N nodded. “You wanna do a photo shoot like that for me?” Charles asked suggestively.

“Sure thing, muñeco, but you’re buying what you want me to wear for this photo shoot.” Y/N said and Charles kissed her temple, still skimming until he found the line.

“Okay, this is kinda long.” Charles cleared his throat and tried to make his voice sound a little deeper and raspy, and looks into Y/N’s eyes. “You’re not going to speak. I’m going to talk to you. I’m going to strip you down and point out all the things I love about your body. For 5 minutes, Lu are going to enjoy a man who you think fucks like a porn star, worshipping you.” Charles recited, not breaking eye contact. Y/N blushed and looked away.

“How the hell did Avery not melt at that. It is official, you can make all these book lines sexy as fuck.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled.

“Well I’m glad this is turning you one, Mon ange.” Charles said, he skimmed until he found another one. “I’m going to make you vocal during sex, I’m going to have you screaming when you come, trust me.” He recited.

“Mm, not as hot.” Y/N said.

“Yeah, I agree, you’re already vocal during sex.” Charles commented and Y/N swatted his shoulder. “What? You’re acting as if that’s not the truth.”

“Just pick the next line, muñeco.” Y/N said.

“I bet you’re so fucking wet for me right now my tongue could go swimming, sweet girl.” Charles said in a raspy voice and Y/N covered her face.

“You did not pick that.” Y/N said.

“But I did. Mon ange, do you real,y enjoy ready these smutty books?” Charles asked.

“Yes I do, I like a modern romance, the smut is a bonus. I find them entertaining though.” Y/N said.

“Mm, should I buy you more books like this then?” Charles asked, pulling Y/N onto his lap so she’s straddling him.

“If you want to, of course.” Y/N said. Charles smiled before kissing her.

“I’m going to read Throttled when I’m on the plane for my next race.” Charles said.

“Okay, let me know what you think.” Y/N said.

Liked by pierregasly and 3,562,924 others

charlesleclerc I discovered that Throttled by Lauren Asher is one of my fiancé’s favorite books so I’ve been reading it and I have a few questions. 1, if I’m Noah Slade despite actually being monegasque, does that mean Y/N is Maya even if she’s Latina and not a Spaniard 🤔? 2, I know I am flirty but I am definitely not as flirty, forward, and cocky as Noah. And 3, I’m a nice guys, a relationship guy, and a family guy, Noah was nothing like that in the beginning! Anyway, not finished yet but so far so good!

View all 10,352 comments

user29 OMG HE’S READING IT!!!!!

user31 Y/N is my favorite WAG and now I have another reason

yourusername muñeco, you were supposed to call me with your thoughts on the book,

charlesleclerc well I’m currently thinking we should recreate that scene in Milano, you want me to choose the restaurant.

yourusername 😳🫣

user35 LORD PERCEVAL!

pierregasly I think you broke the internet, mate

use56 PETITION TO CAST CHARLES AND Y/N AS NOAH AND MAYA FOR A THROTTLE MOVIE!

user23 yes!! They’re perfect

lewishamilton am i supposed to be this Jax guy?

carlossainz55 and me Santiago?

yourusername yes and yes, that’s what TikTok says 🤭

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Three Generations - Rooster

Pairing: Rooster / Fem!Reader (Wife!Reader)

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Rooster is a Dad; Female Reader with No Name or Physical Description, No Y/N, Third Person POV; OC Bradshaw Kid without Physical Description (minus a reference to his smile being similar to Rooster's)

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: Rooster is married. Maverick found out when the paperwork got filed with the Navy, but he doesn’t have a chance to ask Rooster about it until after the mission

Master List

Sequel: A Day with Duckie

Maverick remembered the text that he received from Ice about four years prior to the mission.

The kid’s married.

Three little words that felt like bullets straight to Maverick’s heart. Bradley was married. Married. Maverick shouldn’t have been surprised, really. Bradley was more than old enough for marriage. Especially for a naval officer. But it still hurt, it still stung that he wasn’t there to see it.

Ice gave him Rooster’s wife’s name but he couldn’t find many photos of the two of them together. Rooster’s wife’s profiles were all set to private, but Maverick did find some photos posted by one of the bridesmaids. He printed them out and hung them up in his hangar, next to his old photos of Rooster. Even if he cried like a baby while he did it.

It wasn’t until after the mission, when they were sitting alone in their hospital room together, that Maverick had a chance to ask Rooster about his wife.

“You got married?” Maverick asked Rooster quietly.

Maverick gestured to his own left ring finger, which made Rooster fiddle with his gold band. Staring down at his wedding ring for a moment, Rooster tried to figure out how to respond properly to Maverick’s question. Nodding slowly, Rooster turned back to Maverick.

“Yeah, I did,” Rooster answered quietly.

“Congratulations,” Maverick replied softly.

“Thank you,” Rooster returned, fiddling with his ring again.

“How did you meet?”

“She was in the Navy. She worked in intelligence, though. We met through mutual friends and I asked her out. We went on a date to a karaoke bar and never looked back,” Rooster explained, smiling at the memories. “I asked her to marry me about two years after that.”

“And you’re happy?”

“Extremely,” Rooster replied without missing a beat. “Her and Kai, they’re my whole life.”

“Kai?” Maverick asked curiously.

Rooster, seemingly realizing his slip, shrunk a bit into himself. He looked nervous. Incredibly nervous. Fiddling with his wedding band again, Rooster slowly turned back to Maverick.

“Kai is my son.”

“You’re a dad?” Maverick asked, unable to stop the emotion from dripping into his tone.

Not only had Maverick missed Rooster’s wedding, but he also missed the birth of Rooster’s child, and all of the little milestones along the way. And that ache in his chest quietly intensified, though Maverick tried to not let it show.

“Yeah, I am.”

Rooster reached for his phone, pulled up a photo, and passed his phone over to Maverick. He grabbed Rooster’s phone and stared down at the photo. And Maverick would have been lying if he said that he didn’t get a little choked up at the sight of it.

Rooster and a woman that Maverick knew was Rooster’s wife were standing together with a little baby boy sandwiched between them. A little boy that had his father’s smile—albeit one with a few missing teeth—and a matching Hawaiian shirt. Rooster’s wife smiled widely at the camera with her cheek smushed against the top of her son’s head.

And Rooster looked happier in that photo than Maverick had seen him since before Carole passed, even though Rooster wasn’t looking in the direction of the camera. No, Rooster was far too busy smiling at his little family.

“Are they coming to see you?” Maverick asked, handing the phone back to Rooster.

“Yeah, uh, their flight lands tomorrow morning. Phoenix said that she would pick them up from the airport and bring them here,” Rooster explained, placing his phone aside. Rooster paused before turning back to Maverick. “And . . . can you . . . can you not mention the part about me defying a direct order and everything that happened afterwards?”

“I won’t,” Maverick promised, earning a thankful nod from Rooster. “But, at some point, Brad, I think that you should be honest with her about it. As much as you can, given the sensitive information, anyways. Not that I’m in any position to give anyone marriage advice but . . . you should be honest with your wife.”

“I will,” Rooster returned quietly. “It’s just that she gets really stressed when I’m in the hospital. I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“Are you scared about her reaction?”

“A little bit,” Rooster admitted honestly.

Maverick chuckled, reminiscing about how Goose always looked when he was worried about telling Carole about whatever shenanigans they got into back in the day.

“I’m sure that you’ll be fine.”

~~~~~

Maverick and Rooster were discharged from the hospital the next day.

Phoenix, along with Rooster’s wife and Kai, were supposed to pick them up. Rooster spotted Phoenix’s car and walked after it. The passenger door flew open and Rooster’s wife. She walked around the car to see that Phoenix was helping Kai out of the back seat.

Kai slid out of Phoenix’s car and immediately perked up when he spotted his dad quickly making his way over. But knowing her son, Rooster’s wife snatched him by the back of his shirt before he could run out into the parking lot.

“You have to hold Mommy’s hand when you’re in the parking lot,” she reminded her son.

She looked up and down the road before leading Kai across it. But once Kai safely stepped up onto the sidewalk, she released his hand and let Kai run to Rooster.

“Daddy!” Kai yelled happily, running into Rooster’s waiting arms.

Bradley bent down and scooped Kai up. Holding Kai to his chest, Rooster pressed a kiss to Kai’s hair as he rocked his son back and forth in his arms. Almost like Rooster was trying to soothe himself with his son’s presence.

“I missed you so much, Kai.”

Rooster pressed another kiss to Kai’s head before turning to his wife. She looked like she was trying to hold it together and just barely managing it. But when she caught Rooster’s gaze, she let some more emotion show. Wordlessly, Rooster held out an arm to her and she immediately ran into his embrace, officially reuniting the family of three.

“I’m alright,” Rooster assured her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m okay.”

As Rooster reassured his wife and son that he was fine, Maverick walked around them to stand beside Phoenix. After his wife and Kai were soothed, Rooster turned to introduce them to Maverick.

“Guys, this is Maverick. Mav, this is my wife,” Rooster stated, wrapping his arm around his wife’s waist.

“The man who pulled your papers?” Rooster’s wife asked sharply. Maverick winced at her tone.

“We got past that,” Rooster assured his wife, which caused her to immediately relax.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you then,” she replied with a much warmer tone. Rooster’s wife walked over to give Maverick a proper hug that Maverick was happy to return. “And to put a face to the name after all the stories.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” Maverick replied, releasing Rooster’s wife.

“And this is my son, Kai,” Rooster added, bouncing his son lightly on his arm. Smiling at his son with complete and utter adoration, Rooster nudged him in the side. “Kai, this is Maverick.”

“Hi,” Maverick greeted Kai softly.

“Hi,” Kai returned shyly, resting his head on Rooster’s shoulder.

“Mav’s a pilot like me,” Rooster explained to his son, causing Kai to pick his head up again. “And he used to fly around with your Grandpa Goose.”

“Really?” Kai asked his dad, earning a nod from Rooster.

Kai stared over at Maverick with newfound curiosity and Maverick tried to not choke up at the clear similarities between Kai and Rooster. Kai wasn’t so much his dad’s twin, but he had that same expression and look in his eye that Maverick saw all the time on a younger Bradley. Offering a small encouraging smile to Kai, Maverick decided to approach.

“Yeah, your Grandpa Goose used to sit in my back seat,” Maverick replied, nodding along. “And he was the best at what he did.” Trying to not burst out into tears at the fact that he was talking about Goose while Baby Goose was holding Grandbaby Goose, Maverick managed a small smile. “Your grandpa’s callsign was Goose. Your dad’s is Rooster. What bird do you want as your callsign, Kai?”

“Mommy calls me ‘Duckie’,” Kai informed Maverick, ending his sentence with a giggle.

“Yes, because he’s impossible to pull out of the water once he’s in,” Rooster explained, shaking his head playfully at his son. “And he pretends that he can’t hear us.”

“No,” Kai giggled, clearly lying.

“He’s also a great liar,” Rooster quipped, tickling Kai’s stomach.

Kai squealed and pushed his dad’s hand away, but he couldn’t stop giggling. And Maverick tried to not burst out into tears again. Baby Goose had a baby. The little baby that he used to babysit and take for extra ice cream had a little baby of his own now.

God, Maverick was getting old.

~~~~~

After spending the day with the rest of the Dagger Squad, Maverick and the Bradshaw family of three retired to Maverick’s quaint residence in town. Rooster grew up in the house after Carole’s death and his old bedroom was perfectly preserved from that time.

It was only about a half an hour before Kai’s bedtime when Rooster approached Maverick in the kitchen.

“Can you watch Kai for a second?”

“Yeah, of course,” Maverick agreed, nodding along immediately. “But why? Where are you going?”

“I just thought that I should tell her,” Rooster explained, keeping his voice low. “There were too many close calls as it was with the rest of the Dagger Squad, so I need to tell her. About the mission and . . . my little stunt.”

“The couch is very comfortable,” Maverick joked, earning a tired sigh from Rooster. “You’ll be fine.”

“I hope so,” Rooster replied, straightening up.

Rooster thanked Maverick before the two rejoined Kai and Rooster’s wife out in the living room. Rooster managed to find an old Connect 4 game in the cabinet and his wife tried to teach Kai how to play. They were sitting around the coffee table with Kai studying the layout closely.

“Can I play with you, Kai?” Maverick asked, moving to sit down beside Kai.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, not taking his eye off of the board.

Maverick saw Rooster lean down to whisper something in his wife’s ear before she nodded. Turning to Kai, Rooster’s wife leaned over and tapped him on the shoulder, causing Kai to look up.

“Behave for Maverick, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

Rooster and his wife got up and headed out of the room to talk. Kai turned to Maverick once his parents were out of sight.

“Why did they leave?”

“They just needed to talk about some things. Adult things. Nothing fun,” Maverick stated, causing Kai to nod with a slight pout. Maverick moved to take the seat that Rooster’s wife was sitting in and picked up a yellow piece. “Did you take a plane to get over here, Kai?”

“Yeah,” Kai stated, smiling up at Maverick.

“Do you like flying?”

“Yeah.”

“Has your dad ever taken you flying before?” Kai shook his head dramatically, causing Maverick to nod along. “You just fly with your mom then?”

“Yeah. Daddy gets scared,” Kai informed Maverick, leaning on the coffee table.

“Well, it’s a little scary when you’re a pilot and someone else is flying the plane,” Maverick replied, very well acquainted with the control freak tendencies that popped up when a naval aviator flew commercial. “And your daddy just wants to make sure that you and everyone else is safe.”

“Mommy tells him to relax,” Kai replied, emphasizing the word with a wave of his hand.

Kai must have seen his mom do that exact routine at least a thousand times because he seemed to know the part by heart. He had the expression, the wave of his hand, and the tone down perfectly. Maverick couldn’t help but laugh.

“Does he listen to her?” Maverick quipped, failing at hiding his amusement.

“Sometimes,” Kai answered with a giggle.

“Like you?”

“Yeah.”

Maverick was about to ask Kai another question when Rooster’s wife’s voice echoed around the house. The door to Rooster’s old bedroom did little to muffle the shock and sheer incredulousness of Rooster’s wife’s question.

“You did what!?”

“Have you ever seen the moon, Kai?” Maverick asked the toddler, quickly getting up to his feet.

“Yeah,” Kai replied as Maverick scooped him up into his arms.

“Well, looking again wouldn’t hurt,” Maverick reasoned, setting Kai on his hip. “And maybe we’ll even see a few stars too.”

“Oh-kay,” Kai agreed with a sigh, laying his head on Maverick’s shoulder.

“And where was your brain during all of this!?” Rooster’s wife snapped loudly.

“Yeah, let’s go look at the stars, Kai,” Maverick stated quickly, hurrying out the back door.

“Was that Mommy?” Kai asked, staring back at the house.

“No, I don’t think it was her.”

Sequel: A Day with Duckie

[babyleostuff]

SUPER DRIVE

・❥・ for the 2k followers event

summary: the one where your boyfriend tries teaching you one of their choreographies, but you end up in the hospital

pairing: idol!hoshi x fem!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship | word count: 2k

warnings | a couple of swear words, and one suggestive joke

“Are you trying to get me killed?” 

Having a boyfriend who was a dancer was a dream and a nightmare at once. You loved watching him on stage and in practice, how he changed into a whole different person when he worked on a new choreography, working his ass off until dusk - you felt so proud whenever he ran straight to you at the backstage after they won an award.

But right now you wanted to curse him more than ever. This wasn’t the first time Hoshi tried to teach you one of their choreographies, but it had to be the first time that he wanted you to fall face flat into the ground. 

“How am I even supposed to move my foot like that?” You looked at his reflection in the mirror, horrified. “Oh come on, it’s not that hard, you just have to,” and then proceeded to make the most confusing moves known to humankind.

Your boyfriend was an excellent teacher, that was not up for debate, but it seemed that he forgot you weren’t a dancer - you struggled with learning the choreo for Darling, and now he wanted you to dance to Super like it was Macarena. 

“Baby, slow down, please,” you whined, pulling at his arms to stop him from moving. “I know you’re this cool super star dancer and shit, but I don’t know if you’ve noticed, I’m not,” you pointed to yourself, looking at him with a serious expression.

He laughed, pulling you to a sweaty embrace, his arms tightly wrapped around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, I’ll go a bit slower ‘kay?” He looked down at you with a smile and you rolled your eyes, because you knew it wouldn’t help much. “What are you smirking at Kwon Soonyoung?” 

“Nothing,” he murmured, running his knuckle across your cheek. “Very funny,” you snorted, pushing him away, though he didn’t move much. Damn you muscles. “Keep joking like that, and you won’t get dinner for the next month.” 

“I could live without that,” he smiled, turning back to the mirror. 

“Okay then, I won’t suck yo-,” 

“Okay, okay, I get it. Let’s get back to dancing.” 

You smirked watching how his ears turned slightly red, as he tried to concentrate on the choreo. 

The sun had long set when you finally got the first steps and could easily dance the chorus of the song, which earned you a total of fifteen kisses from Soonyoung messily placed all across your face. “I told you you could do it,” he couldn’t stop smiling as he watched you dance more comfortably now.

Soonyoung loved dancing as much as he loved you - he breathed and lived for performing, and he never thought he’d find someone who’d be as supportive as you were. Even if you had to come to the studio in the middle of the night because he was having a mental breakdown - you never complained, you were there for him through thick and thin, and he’d never be able to thank you enough for that. 

You were his comfort place, his safe haven, and Sooyoung would do anything to make you happy in return. 

But almost killing you - that wasn't on his list.  

“Okay, babe, let’s teach you the next part.” 

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. You weren't sure if it was because you had been dancing for the past couple of hours, or if it was just because you were hungry, but you felt your vision blur a bit. But that didn’t matter - your boyfriend looked over the moon as he showed you the next steps, trying to take it as slow as he could so you could match his pace. 

Besides, you were sure you'd get better in a second.

“Did you get it?” Soonyoung turned around, his sweaty black bangs sticking to his forehead. If you weren’t feeling so bad you’d run your hand through his hair, pushing them back from his eyes. He always scrunched his eyes adorably whenever you did that. “Baby, you okay?” your boyfriend asked, this time more concerned.  

“Of course, don’t worry,” you tried to sound as convincing as possible. You didn’t want to cut your date short just because you were feeling a bit off. With their tight schedule and overseas trips you weren’t sure when would be the next time you’d get so much time for yourselves, and if you told him you weren’t feeling good, he’d immediately make you go home. “I just had to take a short break,” you smiled. 

Although Hoshi didn’t seem that convinced, looking a bit sceptical back at you, he resumed his explanation on the choreo as you tried to follow along. A couple of minutes passed and you actually started to feel a bit better, you even went back to bickering with him, as he laughed at you failing miserably at a certain step. 

“Next time,” you said, gasping for air. “We’re going to have a cooking date, and then we’ll see who’ll be the one laughing, you moron.” 

“Hey! You didn’t have to agree to this,” your boyfriend whined, looking at you with the biggest boba ball eyes. “I’m just kidding, baby, you know I love dancing with you. I just didn’t realise how extreme this choreo is.” 

“Let’s just finish up this part, and go home, yeah?” 

You nodded, as Soonyoung placed a kiss on your forehead, caressing the back of your head. “You’re doing such a good job, baby. No matter how much I laugh at you, you’re fucking amazing,” you scrunched your nose at his corniness, as he pecked your forehead again. 

And that’s when the blurriness came back. With nausea this time. 

Now you were sure you needed to eat something or else you’d collapse, but that would mean you’d have to leave the studio because neither of you thought about bringing any snack with you. You just decided to push through it, a couple of minutes wouldn’t make a big difference anyway. 

“And then you do the jump, but watch your feet because you have to kind of twist them like this when you land,” Hoshi showed you the footwork and how you were supposed to finish the step, looking at you carefully through the mirror. “Got it, babe?” 

You nodded your head, though you weren’t sure how much of what he had just shown you you got. Soonyoung pulled out his phone, turning on the music, totally oblivious to how much you were struggling next to him. 

For a while you were doing great - you followed Hoshi’s every step as best as you could, paying attention to your footwork and arms. You could do this, it was almost over. 

But the moment your foot touched the floor after the jump, you felt a sudden ache in your ankle radiating up your entire leg and before you knew what was happening, you fell unconscious to the floor. A panicked “baby” was the last thing you heard before everything turned black. 

Soonyoung knew something was wrong, he was your boyfriend - of course he knew when you were unwell, he was too in love with you not to notice it. If he only knew how badly you were feeling he’d carry your stubborn ass home himself, because he knew that there was no way you’d leave the studio, you’d just keep on repeating that you were fine. 

The plan was to finish the last part of the dance, hug the shit out of you as a reward, and drive you home, so you could eat and rest, but everything went to shit as he saw how your foot twisted in a weird angle, as it met the ground after the jump. Hoshi had never been so grateful for his quick reflexes, because the moment he saw your body unconsciously fall to the floor, he rushed towards you, catching you in his arms. 

"Baby? Baby, please open your eyes," Hoshi felt his arms shaking as he gently lifted your head off the floor to place it on his lap. "Baby," his voice cracked with helplessness. What was he supposed to do now? Wait until you wake up, take you to the hospital, or call an ambulance? 

The only thing that kept him from going completely crazy was the slight rise and fall of your chest - you were breathing. 

"Why didn't you tell me you felt so bad, you idiot?" he sighed, brushing your hair away from your forehead. 

The cold December air was blowing through the open window and Soonyoung could feel the goosebumps on your skin, but he didn't want to close it, you had to have some access to fresh air - it was the least he could do - but he also didn't want you to freeze. He quickly took off his flannel shirt and covered your body with it. Maybe it wasn't the warmest, but at least because it was a few sizes too big for you, it covered your whole body.

"Hey, baby? Please wake up," he whispered, his lips against your forehead. He kissed it tenderly, and in that moment, Soonyoung promised himself that when you woke up, he wouldn't leave your side for the next week. He would follow you everywhere, he would be as clingy as a puppy, but there is no chance that you would get rid of him. 

He had no idea how long it was before your eyes finally slowly opened. "W-what happened?" You croaked, trying to get up. “Hey hey, not so fast,” Soonyoung scolded you in, holding you down so you were still lying on his lap. "You overworked yourself and fainted. Why didn't you tell me right away how bad you felt?"

You sighed and looked at his worried face. It was obvious how concerned he was. "I didn't want to worry you, and besides, I knew that if I said something, you would tell me to go home. And... I thought nothing that terrible would happen," you admitted.

"Of course I'd tell you to go home, you little genius,” he snickered, rubbing soothing circles onto your hip. “I can't believe you're the one who's always mad at me for working too much and when you're the one who's worse!"

You would have agreed with him if it weren't for the pain in your ankle that wouldn't go away.

“Could you check my ankle, honey? It hurts,” you said, and quickly noticed how your boyfriend’s brows furrowed even more. “I’m sure it’s okay, it just stings a bit,” you tried reassuring him. 

You heard him curse silently, and you were about to ask him what was wrong, when you felt pain shoot through your ankle, making you whine because of the ache. “Shit, we have to get you to the hospital,” he said, gently laying your foot down, so he wouldn’t cause any more pain. 

“What do you mean?” You asked concerned, and tried lifting yourself up to look at your foot. “Lay down or I’m going to tie you down,” he said, and you decided to do as he said because you felt sorry for how shaken he seemed. “Soonyoung, baby, look at me,” you said, running your hand over his cheek. "No, no, we have to call an ambulance a-and they will take you and it won't hurt anymore, I p-promise."

“Soonyoung, calm down!" You had to raise your voice slightly because it looked like your boyfriend was about to cry. "Everything's fine, it’s just a sprained ankle."

“Excuse me for freaking out, I only thought you were dead!” He yelled, tugging at his hair, making a mess on his head. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and you seriously had to do something to calm him down.

"But Soonyoung, you can take me to the hospital, we don't have to call an ambulance," he looked at you, surprised for some reason. "You want me to drive you?"

“Yes,” now you were the one who was confused. Why was he so surprised that you wanted him to drive you to the hospital?

"So you trust me behind the wheel?"

"Baby, what do you mean? Of course I do," you said immediately, grabbing his hand.

"And you're not afraid to come with me?"

“Soonyoung, what are you talking about?”

"I just feel like not everyone feels safe with me driving, and I thought you'd feel better taking the ambulance," he said quietly, looking down. As if the pain from your ankle moved to your heart, you grabbed his hand tighter and brought your joined hands to your chest.

"There is no other person in the world with whom I feel as safe as with you."

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[after-witch]

Yandere Overhaul first time having sex headcanons

Title: Yandere Overhaul first time having sex headcanons [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis: Headcanons for yandere Overhaul's first time having sex with reader.

Word count: 1000ish

Notes: Kidnapped reader, dubcon, descriptions of sex, reader is afab

Preparing For Your First Time

Your first-ever kiss was impulsive. It was the first truly intimate skin-to-skin (well, lip-to-lip) contact and it took you both by surprise.

But this? This is not impulsive. This has been put onto his schedule, both the flat calendar he keeps on his desk and on his phone. He has, he says, cleared out the afternoon through tomorrow morning. You’re not sure if that’s flattering or not.

The schedule is not the only thing that’s been pre-planned. 

Overhaul gave you a checklist. Brush your hair. Brush your teeth. Shower–three times. Once to rinse yourself off, another to scrub with soap and rinse. And another scrub and rinse, for good measure. 

He’ll be doing the same, he told you, as if that lessened the feeling of shame. When he saw how your hands trembled holding the list he tilted your chin up with a gloved finger. “You’re not… dirty, darling. But one can never be too careful.  You understand, don’t you?” And you do, of course. So you head into the shower and force away nagging thoughts.

There’s a silky white nightgown waiting for you when you step out of the shower. That doesn’t surprise you: it’s how he prefers you dress at night. What does give you pause is the small vial sitting on top of it… a perfume. A scent you used to like from before. He stopped letting you wear scents when you came here. It’s a gift–one that makes you smile from ear to ear. You put a little behind your ear and relish the scent of it.

Continued:

Your First Time Together

He leads you into the most sacred of places: his bedroom. His bed is just as you imagined it. Black sheets, freshly pressed. Standard pillows in cases that you’re sure are antimicrobial. It would kill the mood, so you don’t ask. 

Your stomach starts to do awful flips as soon as he gently directs you to sit on the bed. Is this the right step forward? What if he hates it? What if you hate it? Are you even supposed to want to do this with him? But to answer that last question would undo the protective web you’ve built up around yourself over so long, and you force it away

Overhaul gently pushes your shoulders down so that you’re propped up on his pillows.

“Stop thinking so much.” Gentle, firm. An order, all the same. “You’ll worry yourself into hysterics.” 

Yes, you will. So you smooth over all the worry and guilt and remind yourself that Overhaul, that Kai knows best. Always. 

Yet that knowledge doesn’t stop the oppressive flutter of your stomach when he crawls on the bed and lifts up the hem of your nightgown. He leaves it on you, bunched up around your hips; the soft fabric tickles your thighs.

He takes off his own clothing, however. You watch as he neatly folds them and places them in a laundry bin against the wall marked DIRTY. A bin next to it is marked CLEAN.

When he returns to the bed, you finally get your first sight of his erection, pressed up against his stomach, covered in the thin clear material of a condom. Your heart hammers. It’s happening, isn’t it? 

It’s then that you notice–he hasn’t removed his gloves. ���What about…”  You ask, looking at his hands. 

“I need them,” is what he says, with a tone that means it’s not to be questioned. 

Still, you squeak out a “But–” before he crawls onto the bed and gently pushes your legs open wider.

He ignores your utterance.. A smile is on his face. “You’re so sweet, aren’t you? My angel. Now try to relax, it will make this easier. I know it must be… anxiety-inducing.”

There is some small part of you that wants to snap back. To tell him that you’re not all sweetness and nightgowns,, that you’ve had sex, for fuck’s sake, just not like this. Not with him. Not under these circumstances. 

But that isn’t what Overhaul, what Kai wants, and you don’t want to ruin everything. Really, he’s right, isn’t he? You do think too much. It makes things too complicated.

So you lean your head back and go quiet and he takes that as a sign to begin. His gloved finger goes inside you too quickly, and your breath hitches. 

“Relax,” he says. It makes you think, abruptly, of when he takes you into the clinic. The tone he uses when he’s about to stick you with a needle. Relax, relax, relax.

Another finger begins to rub your clit. It’s meticulous and practiced and feels almost clinical. Your breath begins to stutter on cue, you feel yourself getting warm and wet, but it’s like your mind is blank even as the pleasure builds and builds.

You can feel yourself starting to lose control. Your thighs tremble so much you’re worried he might stop, your breath comes out heavy, and sweat begins to bead at the back of your neck.

You orgasm on his gloved fingers and he lets you ride it out, clenching his digit, before he removes it. He pulls off both gloves (he hides his distaste, at least you think so, and it makes your heart flutter) then tosses them into the DIRTY bin, and leans over to retrieve a clean pair from his nightstand.

Then he’s leaning over you and you finally feel the warm, firm press of his cock lining up against your entrance. 

It hurts at first. Uncomfortable with a dash of pain–you feel  too full, too tight. Enough to make tears prick at your eyes. But not for long. He did prepare you, after all, and it’s not long before the uncomfortable tightness gives way to a more pleasurable friction.

You want him to come undone. To look vulnerable. But he doesn’t, despite his thrusts getting faster, despite him pressing his palms against your wrists to keep you in place as he begins to grunt softly above you. 

“Relax,” he tells you, when he catches you staring. “You’re doing so well for your first time, aren’t you, angel?”

You want to correct him, but you know of the few options you have in a moment like this, it would be the worst one. So you nod and bite down a whimper when he thrusts particularly hard.

He’s in control, even now. Like always. It was silly to think you’d see him come undone above you, even like this. 

He finishes inside and kisses you for the first time during the whole evening during his afterglow. He coos at you, gloved fingers holding your chin, praising you for how well you did. 

After he pulls out, he quickly disposes of the condom in the DIRTY bin, along with his gloves. New ones get snapped on. 

He goes to the bathroom and returns with a clean rag and a bin of water, so that he can clean you up. He tells you to roll over on your side, explaining in calm detail what will happen now. “You’ll be sore,” he says, “and it might feel a little funny. Don’t worry about that. It will pass. It won’t be as strange the next time.” 

All you can do is pretend he’s right and listen to your breath hitch as he wipes you clean. 

You stare at the bins pushed up against his wall.  DIRTY, CLEAN. Which one would he put you into, if he tossed you over?

[yourbloodysunrise]

Loved the tall readers Have. Can you do short reader next?

🌤 — sure, why not!I like writing this :з

🌤 — despite the fact I know what about that request, pls, don't forget about mentioning fandom, it really makes it easier when I sort out requests in askbox.enjoy!

❝ What a cute little damn dangerous ninja! ❞

— FANDOM: NINJAGO

— PAIRING: MAIN NINJAS X SHORT!READER

— ROMANTIC

— HEADCANONS

— READER IS GENDER NEUTRAL

— TW: BAD ENGLISH, BAD GRAMMAR, OOC, READER IN NINJA BY DEFAULT, SOME NINJAS ARE TURNED OUT CLINGY :o

LLOYD:

☆ ┈ Considering Lloyd behaves yourself kinda childishly with a tall reader, then short reader is more fortunate.

☆ ┈ It doesn't matter if you're shorter than him or the same height as him, Lloyd doesn't really care.

☆ ┈ He looks a bit like a golden retriever to you. He often hangs around you, behaves nice to you, worries about you and protects you like the apple of his eye.

☆ ┈ Towards you, Lloyd is more of a gentle guy than your leader. Sometimes you will have to remind him of this when he starts to worry about you.

☆ ┈ He often worries about you, but not like other ninjas. He can be paranoid because of his past, and can often worry about you for a while so that he does not leave you for some time, but he respect you as a ninja so this is not happening often.

☆ ┈ Misako adores you!She like a second mother to you, always listen to you and help you with advice. About Lord Garmadon..It's more complicated, however, at the time when he was Sensei Garmadon, he treated you with respect and found you and Lloyd sweet as a couple.

☆ ┈ Lloyd may make jokes about your height sometimes, but he won't tease you about it. After all, he knows what it's like when you're short..

☆ ┈ If someone makes fun of you because of your height, consider that Lloyd has already gone hunting. After all, green ninja can't afford to have his partner insulted, right?

☆ ┈ In your spare time, he will invite you to watch a movie together while eating sweets. Of course, you can choose not sweets, but then bring him some, okay?

☆ ┈ In the ninja team, you are his soft spot. Lloyd may be a good leader, but he is a little embarrassed by the fact that he will command his partner.

☆ ┈ Dude just think that you're cute???

— "It's pretty cold outside..Wanna hold hands?We should stay close."

— "Oh, okay.."

— "It's summer, guys."

NYA:

☆ ┈ Okay, she's a little confused, but it doesn't last long. Anyway, it's not so important that you're short, is it?

☆ ┈ As with a tall reader, Nya don't care much about your height, although in this case expect even more gestures of affection.

☆ ┈ For example, Nya will often pick you up in her arms if you can't reach something, or wrap her arms around you when you hug.

☆ ┈ She can be tactile, but it usually happens when you two are alone. Most of the time it's either a hug or you're holding hands, mostly because it's her favorite.

☆ ┈ Despite the fact that she is confident in your relationship, she is quite jealous. Even if it's just some random person flirting with you, or your fans, she's feels annoyed about it anyway. And if it's one of the villains, she's ready to tear them apart.

☆ ┈ Nya loves you, but she doesn't know how to say it, or even show it. Most of the time, the actions in your relationship are not as romantic as those of other couples, but you two have enough of it.

☆ ┈ You can take some of her old things, she doesn't mind. She's even amused by the sight of you walking around in her clothes.

☆ ┈ She's definitely not the kind of person who would worry about you just because of your height. Nya, of course, can certainly worry about your well-being, but she also knows that you can stand up for yourself.

☆ ┈ Kai can tease you about your height, but then he gets a portion of water on his head from Nya, so he usually doesn't do that.

☆ ┈ It still doesn't matter how tall you are, she just loves you.

— "What's so bad about be short?"

— "Do you want list or something?"

JAY:

☆ ┈ Okay, let's be honest, he adores you with all his soul.

☆ ┈ Although, at your first meeting, Jay could have laughed at you for your height. Like, who are you, a child or a dwarf?

☆ ┈ Very soon he will be ashamed of it, and if you mention it, he will scream in shame and start asking you for forgiveness without stopping.

☆ ┈ Jay most likely fell in love with you when you first met, but don't understand it himself.

☆ ┈ For him, you are someone unrealistically cute because of your small stature, he will often mention it, but in the most parts he pretending it's all a joke.

☆ ┈ He likes how short you are. He always hugs you in a difficult situation, he copes with stress this way and feels more comfortable. You are his antistress, in a good way.

☆ ┈ Edna will cook for you everything that contains foods that are useful for growth. It's not because she doesn't like your height or anything, she just genuinely thinks you're vitamin deficient. Ed and Jay won't be able to talk her out of it, so suck it up lol.

☆ ┈ Jay is still a tame partner, but he protects you more. Yes, you are a ninja like him and everything like that, but what if you get hurt in a fight?Just let him be by your side, please?

☆ ┈ It can be repulsive, and if he notices it, he will stop following you everywhere, although he will still check on you over time. He's going crazy with longing and excitement, but he prefers not to tell you this.

☆ ┈ Guy just afraid that something bad might happen to you..Don't forget to tell him that you can take care of yourself, it calms him down a little.

— "Do you love me?"

— "We're literally dating!"

— "Yeah, but as friends or-"

KAI:

☆ ┈ Although he won't show it to you, but he's just happy.

☆ ┈ Are you someone handsome, short and strong at the same time?Damn, you are literally his ideal!

☆ ┈ He sincerely believes that he should be a hero to you. His dream is that one day you will get into trouble, and he will be the one to help you. It's something for him..romantic.

☆ ┈ Kai always strives to present himself as the best ninja in your eyes. After all, he has to look presentable in his partner eyes!

☆ ┈ So expect him to often do something for you just to hear your praise. Although he sometimes does not understand it himself, he is literally fascinated by you. Kai has a great contrast in behavior with his partner.

☆ ┈ He is passionate but gentle with his partner. He often flirts with you and likes to touch you, but he also likes to be romantic with you, calling you sweetly and hugging you.

☆ ┈ In front of ninja fans, he always praises you, and if anyone tries to deny his praise, Kai would be really mad at them.

☆ ┈ In the original, Kai loves attention and wants to have a perfect reputation, but in a relationship with you, he focuses his attention more on you.

☆ ┈ You and Nya are best friends!Kai is constantly trying to protect you, but the two of you are still running forward towards dangers. Poor Kai…

☆ ┈ In battle, you act as a unit, you fight without problems, helping each other. You can say that you have a balance in your actions.

☆ ┈ A random idea that came to my mind: one day, you and Nya put dye in Kai's hair gel. In the morning, he didn't notice one and smeared it on his hair, which caused it to stain, and you and Nya watched it. As a result, the two of you had to run away from him, although you were more lucky because because of your short stature you hid under the sofa, but Nya was quickly caught...

☆ ┈ You are just a couple in love :3

— "Did I tell you that I love you?"

— "Yeah, right now."

— "Good."

ZANE:

☆ ┈ It's not like Zane cares about your height, but he finds you cute.

☆ ┈ Like with a tall reader, he wants to make sure that your height does not cause you problems. The least he would want is for his partner to be upset about their height.

☆ ┈ Loves physical affection very much. Of course, Zane can verbally plunge you into the ocean of love, but there is something about when he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his arms.

☆ ┈ You most likely fell in love with each other at the same time. You liked him because he was cute and funny with you, and he liked you for your personality.

☆ ┈ Sometimes you are both dependent on each other for something. He needs your help if something is wrong with him, and you need his help when you have problems because of your height.

☆ ┈ Zane is a gentle lover. He will never be able to tell you anything that could offend you. Zane loves to see you smile, to see how happy you are when you are doing what you love, and etc.

☆ ┈ I think Zane will often ask you to cook with him. Basically, you're just helping, he doesn't trust you with knives and a stove a bit, so you can do something basic. We all know that Zane is a damn good cook, but he is especially pleased to hear compliments about his food from you.

☆ ┈ He will support you in any of your hobbies, just tell him about it! (as long as it doesn't cross the line, of course)

☆ ┈ I think it would be a very nice dynamic: a tall, calm guy and his short partner, bonus points if you, reader, is chaotic or very active. Although these are just my personal ideas.

☆ ┈ Congratulations, you got a caring, sweet robot boyfriend!

— "We've been hugging for two hours."

— "Do you want to get up?"

— "No."

COLE:

☆ ┈ Jeez, hope someone will help you...

☆ ┈ Cole is the tallest, so against his background you look like a little person next to the Eiffel Tower.

☆ ┈ He loves physical affection. Holding your hands, hugging you while he completely blocks you with his body, or lifting you up in a wedding style to kiss you is everything for him.

☆ ┈ Cole adores you, adores your height, and adores feeling when you get mad at him for teasing you.

☆ ┈ He is most likely much stronger than you, so he always tries to be careful with you, because he is afraid of accidentally harming you. At first you didn't understand why he was so careful with you, but then yoy just got used to it.

☆ ┈ Cole is still a watchdog for you, so no one can bother you, and if one of the ninjas does it (cough and look at Kai and Jay), then don't let them wonder why there will be stones everywhere in their things.

☆ ┈ As with tall reader, he will do his best to make a good impression on you. Even if it's dumb stuff..

☆ ┈ Likes to do things for you. There are times when Cole just decides to help you with something easy, he doesn't even try to explain himself.

☆ ┈ I imagine how you often dance with each other, but sometimes because of your height difference, you can trip over him and you both can fall. I hope he doesn't run over you…

☆ ┈ When you sleep together, you lie on top of him, because he is afraid that if you sleep next to him during sleep, he may lie on top of you and pin you to the bed.

☆ ┈ Perfect dynamic: the tallest ninja and the shortest ninja.

— "Could you stop trying to pick me up?It's start getting annoying."

— "Nooope."

— "Why?.."

— "You look funny when I do that."

..:*･ﾟ☆.｡.:*･ﾟﾞ｡.:*･ﾟ☆.｡.:*･ﾟ🌤

🌤 — another request done, yipee

[beomglocks]

☆.｡.:* pairing: asshole ceo!hyuka x assistant!reader

☆.｡.:* warnings & other : enemies to less hated enemies/lovers, kai is an asshole, very mean, reader is nonchalant, sub!reader, softdom!kai but like meandom aura idk how to explain it, reader lowkey likes kai but like hell no that's ur boss!, unless..., idk if i will ever expand on this concept but fhwuwe i just love the thought of mean CEO kai, im back just for this ig

☆.｡.:* wc : …

you hum to yourself quietly, picking up a white collared shirt that you believe best fits the vibe of the upcoming business meeting.

"what do you think of this one?" you ask calmly. you watch silently as your boss glances up briefly from his phone to look at the attire you've chosen. he cranes his neck back and forth before groaning dramatically.

"i hate it."

you stare at him with a neutral expression on your face as he goes back to gluing his eyes to his phone as if whatever he was doing on there was more important than the task at hand. "that's the fifth one today sir," you speak up.

there's not a hint of mockery in your tone whatsoever. you're just doing your job after all. was it easy? hell no. however, you weren't about to let this stuck up brat get you out of line.

you were used to kai's constant demands. as his secretary and right hand women it's only normal for you to be able to deal with whatever bullshit was thrown your way. you were tougher than he gave you credit for and he had never acknowledged it but you were the only one who had stuck around.

the thing was, kai was used to getting everything he wanted but that all halted once you became his assistant.

normally he could get anything and anyone no matter what. the latest car or prettiest girl to play around with, you name it. he had a habit of fucking around with his assistants until you showed up. the moment you stepped into his office for the interview you were already on his hit list. thankfully you had a friend who worked here already so you knew of his advances towards the woman he worked with.

"its a good thing you're pretty, we'll look good standing next to each other," he had quipped once you sat down. you had held a straight face and answered plainly, not giving in to his advances.

"with all due respect sir, im here to work, not be a trophy on a wall to you." you still remember the way scoffed at you. as if to say, "we'll see". you can tell he didn't like that one bit.

sure, he had hired you despite the rudeness you gave him on the first encounter, why wouldn't he? your resume was impressive. long list of amazing companies he rivaled with in the past and you were smart. sure, he cared about all that in the grand scheme of things but he mainly hired you because you were his type. however, he kept you on a tight leash. metaphorically but he wouldn't be opposed if it were literal. he knew you weren't the type to condone his flirtatious advances and he hated that so he made your life a living hell in return.

no longer was he the boss who occasionally flirted with you and held the door open whenever you were running late. no. he had turned into somewhat of a tyrant, throwing fits over you not liking him in that way and penalizing you for even being just a second late. everyone in the office knew it was never a good day for you if you had to physically be around him.

he sighs, throwing his phone haphazardly on his bed. he rubs his face with his hands as if he's trying to cool himself off from exploding at you. you put the shirt down on the chair closest to the walk in closet, preparing for whatever he has to say to you.

"y/n-" he pauses to look up at you. his blonde hair is strewn all over the place and he has a bored expression. his eyes are narrowed and the way he's looking at you should make you feel small but it doesn't work. at least not outwardly. you'd be lying if you said the way he looked at you didn't make you throb a bit. but you couldn't and wouldn't ever let him win. you didn't care if he was nice or mean to you.

right now though, he's clearly masking the irritation in his eyes with a neutral face.

"i give you the keys to my very expensive, very lavish house not so you can chastise me about my fashion choices and my likes and dislikes but so that you can do your goddamn job and choose the best option for me."

"if i knew what i wanted to fucking wear i wouldn't have hired you in the first place don't you think?" he finishes. you raise your eyes row when he curses at you but remain silent.

he must've really been in a bad mood to curse at you because you don't think he's ever done that. he was mean but never to the point of swearing at you. that's how you knew today he wasn't having it.

he walks up to your still figure at the front of the closet. you're significantly shorter than him which he uses as a way to assert his dominance. he holds your jaw and inspects your face. he hates that you have such an indifferent expression on your face, you swear you see his eye twitch a bit.

"i hate that stupid look on your face," he mutters. "i curse at you and you don't even flinch, i flirt with you and you turn me down.. what do i do to break you?" he asks more to himself than you.

he holds that position for a while, waiting for anything, any sign that will help him out in this situation. you purse your lips because you know exactly what he's waiting for.

an invitation.

"im just here to do my job kai. i don't want to fool around with you." you say. "no matter how you are," you say to yourself. you hope your voice isn't faltering because kai has always respected your personal space but now he's all in your face. "are you serious? you're telling me you haven't thought of me fucking the mess out of you not even once. i mean.." he glances at his king bed for a second. "we're in my room right now, don't be so crass, its offensive.." he smiles a bit at his own intentions.

you hold your stare to the best of your abilities although the wetness that's pooling in your underwear is telling you to just give in. sure, he's your boss, your hot boss who has mentioned time and time again how badly he craves you, so what harm is it?

before you almost let your pussy do the thinking, suddenly you remember the fact that he only wants you just to say he broke you. it was almost like a game to him and you were the prize. you definitely weren't gonna let him win.

you clear your throat, trying to pull away from his grasp. "your meeting will be soon can we please get you dressed?" you say it with so much monotonous that it causes kai to blow another short fuse.

with a light shove he removes his hands from your jaw and sighs heavily. "the day i fuck the indifference out of you will be the day this whole building hears my name," he says to himself as if already imagining how it'll go down. "but it's ok, i suppose i can keep playing this game."

he turns around to look at you still standing stupidly near the closet.

"although im not sure how much longer im willing to play."

[sugarverse]

𝙲𝚑𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝙾𝚞𝚝, 𝚃𝚠𝚘 📖 📕

word count: 6.1k

mentions of: reader crying during sex, vulgar words like cunt lol, smut, calls the reader angel, baby, slut, other pet names I think. kinda dub-con? reader says stop in an overwhelmed way but not a genuine "get off me" way

authors note: the smut is right after the date finishes,  I'm sure no one needs reasoning on why he's a little ooc but heres it anyway. I like to believe as he gets older he has a degradation thing for others. yk you get bullied for fucking ever you'd like to be in control, and for christ sakes he's 25 in this, he's not gonna be the same stuttering beginner deku. kay thats all lmfao

part one! moodboard for the fic by @fizziedoodle

“Welcome back, Mr. Midoryia!” The older brunette said happily, she looked to be in her early 40s, standing tall as her eyes roamed down his body before searching down the list. “You brought a woman this time, Finally not a business deal?” She joked, smiling at you happily. “Your dress looks stunning,” She says to you before meeting eyes with Izuku. He was obviously flustered, a big hand going to rub his neck once more.

“Its for 6:30, Miss Jacklynn.” She waved him off, “Don’t get all proper because you have a cute date. You know the deal,” She grabbed two menus and silverware, walking you both around the corner where a live band had been playing. Music and echoes of laughter filled the dining room. It must have been muffled by the walls near the hostess stand because it seemed way louder than before. You squint slightly as you adjust to the noise, watching the hostess set the table accordingly. “Your waitress will be here shortly,” Izuku let you sit first, sitting across from you with a big grin on his face. “Hope you enjoy!” Jacklynn chirped, winking at the two of you before walking back to the hostess stand.

“Who’s that?” You ask, looking around and smiling under the bright lights. You were trying to hide the annoyed look you wanted to keep on your face, it was unnecessary for that chick to keep babbling after Izuku already looked flustered. But you knew not to overreact right away. You scooch into the booth, sitting onto the comfy red seats. You traced the designs in the dark wood table with your nail, looking up to see him again.

“She normally helps me get deals whenever we have big hero galas here.. She’s always helping my table and stopping by extra to help. She's a really good friend!” He opened  and closed the menu slightly, hearing the click noise it made. Your eyes trailed back to him, nodding and opening your own menu. You kept your thoughts to yourself, looking for the drink options. 

He already knew exactly what he wanted, opening his menu to the drink page and placing it next to you. "Do you like wine?“ He pointed to the list of wine bottles, then moved to the other side of the page. "They have good margaritas too, if that’s more your thing?”

You close your own menu, leaning over his slightly to read the top. “I.. don't know,” You looked over the drink sections some more. There was so much to try, it was hard to see anything new to try. Maybe you just wanted a fruit cocktail or something? You were tired of trying something new and not liking it. There had just been words to describe the drinks which really doesn't help, No pictures. It just seems easier to look at a drink and say you want that instead. You bite your cheek, trying to decide. 

“I was going to get a Cadillac Margarita.. Kacchan comes in and gets the fanciest he can- But the first few times we went drinking, he told me to try it and I havent tried anything else since. If you want, I can buy two and you can get whatever else you want if you don’t like it? If that sounds good?” He stared down at you, grinning ear to ear. 

You hummed softly in agreement, watching your nails as they tapped against the wood. “I was going to say a more confident yes, But I don’t like lime like that. I’m not gonna waste an entire drink because I'm picky.. I found a pineapple one I can drink!” You pointed to the menu, seeing the small description read something about it tasting like a fancier pina colada. “You get your fancy ass drink and I’ll take a sip. You can try mine too!” 

“I get sugar around the rim. You okay with that?” He asks, he hadn’t broken eye contact yet, watching you look at his lips then back to his eyes. You hummed a soft agreement once again, smirking a bit at his seemingly still flustered state. “Good Evening you two!”

A voice interrupted, causing you both to look over at the woman. “My name is Emilie, Do you know what you want to drink tonight?”

Izuku nodded, showing off that pro-hero smile he wore mostly for cameras. “Yes Ma’am! I wanted a Cadillac Margarita with sugar around the rim, In a fishbowl glass if you have it, Thank you!” The waitress looked at you, smiling and quickly scribbling down what Izuku had ordered.

“And for you miss?” You smiled. “A pineapple margarita on the rocks with salt around the rim,” You shot Izuku a teasing glance. “A regular glass is fine with me.” 

She nodded, writing that down as well. “Any appetizers for you two?” He chuckled, moving pages of the menu back and forth. “We’re still looking, But I’m assuming yes.”

“Perfect! I’ll be back with your drinks!” She left, looking down at her notepad. You open your menu to look as well, trying to find the section that looked the most appealing. It seemed like the menu went on for ages. 

“You wanna try the calamari?” Izuku suggests as he finally leans back into his seat to relax.

You rolled your eyes. “You know this stupid thing like the back of your hand. We can get.. Whatever that is. Don’t tell me until I eat it!” You finally found genuine entrees, hearing him laugh loudly at your statement.

“I wont, I wont. You want filet mignon? I know you said you like steak.. I wanted to get some Nigiri and Maki. So you can try both if you want?” Your eyes grew wide, nodding. 

“Of course I want filet mignon!” You said happily, shutting the menu. You already knew your sides were going to be asparagus and mashed potatoes. Nothing too complicated and food you know is hard to fuck up.

“I’ll order everything when she gets back. What else would you like?” He chirped, shutting his menu and setting it on the edge of the table next to you. You crossed your arms. “What makes you think I can’t do it myself?”

He laughed, knowing you were kidding. It didn’t take away from the dark look in his eyes. “Don’t be a brat, Tell me what you want to eat y/n..” Your eyes widened, going to retort to his comment before the waitress placed your drinks down. Izuku began telling her what you both had wanted to eat, glancing at you to see how you wanted it cooked. You were sorta still in shock, mouthing the way you wanted it cooked and your sides to him as he ordered. You sipped your drink, squinting at him and setting it down. He took a sip of his own before reaching over to take yours. 

The comment still rang in your ears, a smirk resting on your face as you grazed your tongue over your teeth. “You wanna swap spit with me already?” You joke, taking his glass with both hands. It looked like a genuine fish bowl with a stem.. There was no way he was finishing this whole thing. You licked a small part of the rim, taking a sip as your face scrunched up. You pushed the glass towards him, laughing and shaking your head a few times. “That’s fuckin’ strong Izuku- Oh my god-” You laughed, covering your cough before listening to your nails tapping at the glass.

The words fell from his mouth quicker than he could correct them, “I would gladly swap more than just spit with you.” You felt your face heat up, staring at him for a moment. He thought he had mumbled it, standing slightly to swap your drinks. He watched your manicured hand grab his tie loosely before he could sit back down. Your gaze stayed on his lips, hearing both hands be placed onto the table with small taps of your nails. He leaned forward, giving you a small kiss on your lips. It felt right. Was a kiss what you wanted?

You smile, kissing back and tugging his tie closer to you before he could pull away to give some lame peck. He felt his face burn, pulling away slowly and sitting down with a happy, almost woozy, grin on his face. He looked down at his drink, picking the glass up between his fingers and bringing it up to his lips. “You kiss like an angel. I thought I was in trouble at first..” He laughed to himself, bringing his drink to his lips once more.

You watched his facial expression change as he felt your heel creep up his leg and to his thigh. He didn't say anything, taking another big sip before setting the glass back onto the table. You watched his face turn cherry red, looking at you like he needed to speak. He opened his legs a bit more, feeling the tip of your heel rub against his inner thigh. You scoot down in your seat, heel now against his bulge. “The opposite of trouble, ‘zuku..” You flash an innocent smile, moving your foot side to side against him slightly.

He groaned, covering it with a small cough and another drink. A big hand suddenly grabs your ankle, yanking it towards his stomach so you slip downward in your seat. “You're playing with fire, honey.. Too many people around.” He leaned over the table to speak in a low voice, rubbing the soft skin of your calf before setting your foot back onto the ground. You smile, the tip of your heel slipping into his pant leg slightly as you rubbed against him.  

Malachite eyes watching your pretty lips sip at your straw, long eyelashes batting up at him. He couldn't wait to get out of here. The calamari came to the table, along with a few plates by someone other than your waitress just to scurry off. “I say try it with the sauce and then without..” He scooted closer to the table, adjusting himself in his pants as discreetly as he could.

“Ill try both just for you..” You tease, trying the calamari. It wasn’t half bad! I mean, It was fried but it was still kinda… squishy? You looked up from the plate to see him already munching on a piece. “What is it?” You grabbed your fork, poking around the plate to see if you could determine for yourself what it was.

“Squid.” He ate another piece, watching your face scrunch up. He let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with one hand so he hadn’t spat everywhere. “You didn’t look like it was that bad!” He couldn’t help it, your face was very expressive and he knew you didn't like the sound of that.

“Squid makes it so much more.. gross.” You tried another small piece with your fork, watching the waitress visit the table. You looked over at her, seeing Izuku from the corner of your eye straighten up.

“You guys like it?” She asked with a smile, looking back and forth between the two of you. Izuku nodded, answering for the both of you. He knew you didn’t really like it. But he didn’t want to say no. Maybe he’ll finish it off later? “I’m glad! I checked on your food and it will be out in no time!” You smiled, nodding as she walked to visit another one of her tables.

“You can bring it home.. I don’t know if this shit warms up well- I’ll pay for it.” You grabbed your bag, huffing and feeling his scarred hand reach across the table to lay against yours.

“Don’t, it’s okay. I told you I got it, angel.” He pulled your hand up to his lips for a kiss. He didn’t mind whatsoever, it was good! You smiled, messing with the cloth napkin that your silverware laid upon. He is so sweet..

“I could get used to being called angel..” You murmured, pulling out your phone. “We should at least take a picture! First dates are important!” You smile up at the hero before earning a smile back. You quickly got up, plopping right next to him. You extend your arm out, taking the picture as the two of you shined your teeth at the camera. You then took another, this one had just been you kissing him on the cheek. His face turned a bit red, not expecting it, but not minding. 

You sent the two photos to him, going to get up until he slid an arm tightly around your waist. You then see a hot plate of food being placed in front of the two of you. You giggled, staying tightly against him and watching the steam rise from your food before he got his sushi and lobster. 

You beamed, thanking the person who had brought you the food before grabbing your silverware and setting it next to you once more on his side of the table. Izuku chirped in a thank you as well before digging into his food. He cut off a small bite off of what he had just to put it to your lips. “Try it, I bet you’ll love it.” You huffed, opening your mouth slowly. It looked.. wet. Slimy even. Although it looked like it wouldn’t taste as good as it did.. You liked it!

You begin cutting your steak, “It’s good! You want a bite of my food?” You hold the fork out in case he said yes. He thought for a moment, finishing whatever he was chewing on to lean down and eat the bite you had given him. Steak wasn’t his favorite, but it was good too! You two shared a few more bites back and forth, finishing your own food of course. You both were stuffed! It was delicious and you were glad you were having such a good time.

You two were still leaning up against each other when the waitress bought the check. She stopped in her tracks a moment, deciding to give it to you since you sat outside the booth, Just for Izuku to kindly take it from your hands. You attempted to look at the price, but he didn’t even look! He placed his card in and handed the check back.

He looked down at you, staring at those pretty, full lips. He wanted them around his cock. Bad. That wasn't just the liquor talking either. He couldn't stop thinking about in the limo, it had been awhile since he's been with someone intimately and you were just so warm and inviting. “Hey Angel, You wanna watch a movie after this?” He rubbed his hand up your arm, silently asking to play with your hair. You leaned into his touch, watching him twirl the ends of your hair between his fingers.

“Sure, I’d love to..” You tapped the table with your nails. “Your place?” You had been all dolled up, it wasn’t really.. movie theater appropriate? You’d rather go to your/his place to chill out.

He nodded, kissing your cheek softly. “My place. You wanna change at my place too? I’ll give you some of my old clothes. I know you want this dress off fast..”

“Not as fast as you want it off.” You teased, watching the waitress come back. She handed the card and receipt to Izuku who seemed to be trying to keep it together. 

“I hope you two have a good night!” She spoke, attempting to scurry off before Izuku started speaking. He took the receipt and tucked it into his wallet along with his card, pulling out a fifty and handing it to the woman. “Here, I know you’re busy tonight. Thanks for takin’ care of us.” He smiled, watching her squeal and take it. “Thank you so much!” She laughed happily, running off to go tell her friends or.. whatever she was going to do. She’s not relevant to the story anymore-

You scooted out of the booth, putting your hand out for him to help him up. He scooped an arm around yours, walking right out the door. The limo was right outside, waiting for you two to get in. Did he text the driver? Had they been there the whole time? You didn’t give it much thought, watching Izuku open the door for you. You smiled at your reflection, reapplying lip gloss before climbing inside as Izuku followed. 

Almost immediately after he shut the door, he starts to speak. “Can.. Can I kiss you? On the lips again?” You could tell by his face he felt a bit flushed. You nodded, leaning up just for his big frame to pull you up out of your seat by your hips. He sat you on his lap, pressing his lips against yours feverishly. 

You whimpered after feeling how needy he was for just a kiss. It was sloppy.. But it was so passionate at the same time. You began to sit up a bit more, feeling him place a hand onto your thigh. You were still much smaller than him, having to sit on his lap for a proper kiss. He is so fucking strong.. Picking me up like it wasn’t nothin’. You thought to yourself.

He slowly opened his eyes, staring at you with a cloudy, hazy look. He wanted to see if there were any signs of resistance.. But after you hadn’t pulled away, He closed them once more. He couldn’t stop tugging on the silky fabric of your dress, it was so soft.. He wanted to rip it off your body. Would you let him? He’ll buy you a new one. He swears by it.

You began running your hands through those pretty dark green curls. Hearing him letting out soft whimpers before mumbling something against your lips. The next thing you knew, the hero was shoving his tongue down your throat. You made sure to keep him close, feeling your poor clit rubbing against his bulge from his impatient movements. Despite not trying to, you let out a few moans as well. Tugging even harder on his curls. He groaned, letting his eye peak open slightly at the feeling of the limo arriving at his place. 

He pulled away from you, panting quietly as he planted another soft kiss onto your forehead. He had lip gloss smeared on his lips, they glimmered in the low light of the vehicle. “Come on Angel, We’re here.” He let you get out first, kissing your shoulder as he stood behind you. He shut the door and held your waist close to his hip as he walked up the steps to his home.

You stared up at the house, There was enough for himself and at least 3 extra rooms to hold. Why would he have such a big house to himself? You thought for a moment, hearing the door click in front of you. He held the door open, rubbing the small of your back.

“Go ahead angel,” He spoke softly, turning a few lights on as he followed you inside. He took his shoes off, locking the door behind him. He knelt to undo the clasp of your heels, sliding them off of your feet and setting them next to the door. “Are you ready to change now or do you want to wait?” He didn't want to rush you out of your clothes… Well, not yet at least. He wanted to make sure you were comfortable first.

Your eyes flicker to him, still soaking in the smell of apple and cinnamon from his home. It was beautiful.. Marble counters, a leather sofa, a 75in TV.. “Now is fine, You think I'll be able to fit your clothes?” You giggle, holding his hand as he guides you to his bedroom. Picture frames hung upon the walls, His family maybe? Friends and other pro-heros you’d seen on the news posed with him on his beige walls. His bedroom door creaked open, a king-sized mattress with silk pillowcases and a dark gray bedspread sat in the middle of the room next to a dresser. A small nightstand, alarm clock, and lamp sat on the other side of the bed. He had been pretty organized, more than you thought a pro hero would be. 

As you look around the room, he lets your hand go in search of comfy clothes. He found an old shirt from days where he'd train with All Might, the dingy yellow fading out from how much it had been washed. He sets it onto the bed, quickly finding a few pairs of pajama pants to set next to it. “I’ll go change in the bathroom, Let me know when you’re done!” He grabbed his hanger for his suit, looking for his own clothes to wear as he loosened his tie around his neck.

"Thank you, Zuku..” You watched his shoulders tense a bit. Did he not like the nickname? You just said it not too long ago.? You sat on the bed and began to take out your earrings.

“Of.. Of course y/n..” He liked the name, just not used to someone being nice to his name. You get called Deku all your life you forget your real name can be just as sweet. He leaned down to kiss your cheek before walking to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. He looked at himself in the mirror, flustered and scrambling to keep himself together. You gave him butterflies with that honey-laced voice of yours. He froze for a moment, looking for any wipes so that you would wipe off your make-up. Were you spending the night? Did I even ask?? It might have been rude to assume.. Did you even want to take your makeup off? Was that stupid to assume too? He didn’t want to ask, whatever happens will happen. He’s not going to make you feel obligated to do anything. He looked all over for wipes, sighing when he realized he hadn’t had any. After hanging his suit onto the hanger, he knocked on the door. “If you aren't done, Take your time! I was going to go pop in a mo-”

You opened the door, cutting him off. His pants were too long on you but they fit otherwise! You looked up at him, “What was that sweetheart?” You stood to the side, watching him go to hang up his tux. What you hadn’t noticed was where his eyes went as soon as the door opened.

“Whatever you want. I have Hulu, Netflix, We can watch some movies on HBO or something?” So cute in my clothes.. Were you wearing a bra? God I bet your tits are so fucking pretty.. He thought to himself, feeling his cock twitch in his boxers. You shuffled your feet onto the carpeted floor with a smile, heading towards the couch and sitting down comfortably. He sat next to you, a bigger grin placed on his face as you scooted closer to him. He wrapped an arm around you, flicking through the movies on Netflix first. “Anything certain you wanna watch?” He asked, leaning his head onto yours.

You shrugged, taking the remote from him and looking for yourself. It didn’t really matter what movie was picked, Whatever would be good background noise right? You turned on some comedy movie, leaning over to snatch the blanket that had been thrown onto the arm of the couch. You put it over the both of you, leaning to set the remote onto the glass coffee table. He had little all-might too coasters.. How cute.

He grabbed his phone, using it to dim the lights in the living room before rubbing your shoulder. “y/n?” He asked softly, moving his head from yours to look down at you. He watched your eyes meet, leaning down for another kiss like earlier.

You kissed back without hesitation, cupping his face and letting his scruff lightly scratch at your palm. He wasted no time pulling you onto his lap again. His hungry state had been the most uncaring he’s been all night, shoving his tongue into your mouth and gripping your hips so hard they might bruise. He needed you. Grinding you against him like a hungry animal. Allowing his bulge to bump against your clit, feeling you moan into his mouth. You were intoxicating..

He dragged his wet kisses down to your neck, chuckling as you struggled to catch your breath. Did he make you feel that good? He ran his hands up to your chest, feeling you grind without his force. He bit your neck softly, feeling you lean in before he left a small red hickey on your shoulder. 

Staring down at your chest, his eyes flickered up to ask for permission to continue marking you. You gave a small nod before seeing his eyes light up, He proceeded to leave hickeys and love bites all over your naked torso. You gave a sharp tug at his hair before he lifted you into his arms. He looked up at your slacked jaw, taking a small bite onto your side as he carried you to his room on his broad shoulder. You let out a loud giggle or two as he laid you against his bed, lifting your shirt and swirling a tongue around your nip. He teased for a second, sucking on one and pinching the other between his fingers. He switched sides, wanting to give your entire body his attention.

“You really want me baby? You want me to ruin you?” He stood up properly to take his own clothes off, watching you strip under him.

“Yes, Please Zuku..” You muttered, letting your arms cross upon your face. The feeling his hands moving them away made you whine. He didn’t speak at all, but you got the message and kept your arms above your head. Your eyes traveled down his bare chest, shutting your legs around him in a failed attempt to close them at the sight of his happy trail.

“Can I fuck your tits first? Please?” He gave them a soft squeeze before taking his hard-on out. He tugged off the rest of his clothes for you, not breaking eye contact.

You nodded slowly, feeling him cup your face. You let your eyes drift down at his cock, feeling your jaw drop slowly at the sight before he shut it. “You just sit there and look pretty for me..” He mumbled before sliding his dick through the valley of your breasts. He pushed them together with your hands, letting out soft whimpers into the air. The noises he let out were heavenly.. You couldn’t explain it. You watched his face contort into pleasurable looks, drool pooling in his mouth. You smirked softly before licking his tip each time his head passed all the way through.

He went much faster. You were such a good girl.. You made him feel so fucking good. He already felt as if he’d cum all over your face already. You looked so pretty. Where had you been all his life? He practically had hearts in his eyes as he stared down at you. He imagined creaming inside of you, causing him to spill all over your face without warning. His hips gave a small stutter, pulling away and soaking in the sight of you.

You whimpered, swallowing the bit that got into your mouth before glancing up at Izuku. He had gone to grab a tissue from his bed stand, quickly wiping your face off. “My poor girl, I’m so sorry.. Let me make it up okay?” He slid his hand down, rubbing your clit in circles. Your back arched involuntarily off of the bed, eyes rolling back almost immediately. He had found it so quick. What a pro, Who else had he touched like this? You squeezed your eyes shut at the stupid thought. Who cared? He’s between your legs now, right? No one else mattered.

He hummed, switching to his thumb over your clit and easing a finger in. He knew his fingers had been pretty thick, calloused from all of his hero-work. He listened to you gasp and watched your lips quiver. He loved seeing you fall apart with a few touches.

You whimpered, wrapping your arms around him and pulling his body closer so you could hide the noises you made into his skin. He didn’t mind, shoving another finger in and curling them slowly. It was going to throw you over soon, hearing the wet sounds of your cunt and your gasps filling the room.

He stared at your eyelashes, watching your eyes shut tighter before cumming against his fingers. He kept your legs apart, feeling them start to close. “Its okay, Keep cumming baby..” He smacked your thigh with his free hand, keeping your legs wide open before shoving his fingers as deep as they’d go into your cunt.

You spasmed, scratching at his shoulders as he guided you through it. “Zuku.!” It was more of an oh my type of name call. He didn’t respond, pulling his fingers out of you to clean them with his tongue. You watched his eyes flutter, causing you to close your legs a bit embarrassed.

“We’re not done yet.” He finished sucking on his fingers, his cock twitching against your clit as he leaned your legs up to your ears. “I wanna fuck you. So stay still and take it for me..” He mumbled, looking up at you for any signs of wanting to stop. After he saw your little nod, he eased into you.

You smacked at the sheets, gripping them and shutting your eyes tight. Why was he so fucking big? You pulled your hips away only for him to grab them. He pulled you closer, shoving his cock deeper into you. “Don’t run now, Take it baby.” He growled into your ears, sending butterflies right to your tummy. 

He made sure you were alright, kissing your cheeks and mumbling soft praises as he shoved himself at his halfway point. It wasn’t slow at all. You had been so tight he might split you open. No one else ever made you so.. full. He wanted to try shoving in the other half so it would be quick and less painful, seeing some tears spill from your eyes. “Don’t cry, pretty girl. I'm right here..” He laid his hands next to your head, sighing softly. 

“I’m not cryin’..” You used your finger to wipe off some of your tears, ruining your makeup a bit. You hadn’t even closed your eyes fully before he slammed into you. “Fuck!!” You cried out, clinging onto him quicker than you ever had. You felt tears rush down your cheeks, your chest rising and falling quicker than before.. The full feeling in your tummy was just too overwhelming.

“Watch your mouth, Angel.” He kissed your shoulder, giving you time to adjust. He really was spitting you open. You were too fucking tight and he’d have to move soon. He tried to give you the time you needed, but he couldn’t wait that long. He started slowly dragging himself from your cunt, moving his hand to rest on the head board and the other to lay you down. “Let me take care of you..” He rubbed your clit with his thumb, watching his cock twitch inside of you.

You continued to pant like a dog in heat, letting out moans and leaning into his touch. “Zuku please...” You mumbled, tears starting to glue your lashes together. It felt so good but there wasn’t much to do but beg him to stop. It was too much, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t hardly handle it.

He didn’t listen, watching you cry and your mascara drip from the first and only thrust so far. “What? Adjust to me.. I know you can do it baby..” He put a bit more pressure on your clit, rubbing it faster. He heard you hiccup and moans get louder, thinking about how bad he wanted to just slam into you. 

You simply nodded, moaning louder as he made you cream once again. Your cunt disobeying you and closing against his cock only made you pull him back in. “It- hah-.. It hurts Izuku..” You mumbled, not that he was listening nor did he care. You let him poke at your cervix again as he really moved. You were seeing stars.

“It hurts baby?” He groaned, letting his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. “Aw.. It's okay, I’m right here.” He gave long, irritatingly slow, thrusts into you. He watched you smack at the blanket next to you, crying and whimpering even more than before.. He wiped off your tears, chuckling a bit and rutting in roughly. He watched your body flinch, jumping back from the force just to suck him back in again. “Can I move now, Angel? I’ll be gentle..” He lied through his teeth.

“y..yes..” And you believed him. He started slow, but gradually began pounding into you at more than a gentle pace. You could feel your walls cling around his cock, threatening to drain him of all of himself into you. You shivered, hugging your arms around him as you cried louder. The make-up you wore now beautifully ruined by his roughness.

“Am I makin you feel like this? You cryin 'cause of my cock?” He teased, feeling a sense of pride as he went on and on about how much of a slut you were for him. He could feel himself bruising your hips, but he couldn’t stop himself. It felt too good. He was too excited to even put on a condom.. Maybe he’ll trap that pretty pussy along with you. 

He leaned down, kissing down the valley of your breasts as they bounced near his head. He could feel your nails running through his hair and scratching at his scalp. Once you pulled on those green curls? It was over. His hips stuttered, letting out the loudest moan he had kept in his throat all night. He hadn’t stopped either, slamming into you harder as he broke his rhythm. “You’re mmm..mine, Mine, Mine.." 

You nodded as you continued to pull and scream out in bliss. You shivered, creaming onto his cock for the final time before feeling him pull out and make a sticky mess all over your stomach. You hadn’t minded one bit. You let your breath steady out as he went to his bathroom and warmed a rag to clean you off with.

Once he came back, cock clean and covering himself a bit as he wiped your body off. "You want me to wash you up, y/n?” He kissed your forehead, wanting to make sure you felt alright. After earning a nod from you, he carried you to the bathroom. It was huge. 

“Let me down!” You laughed, despite clinging around him. Once he let you down, you shoo’d him out so you could pee before hopping in the bath to start cleaning. He came back a bit later, washing you gently like he said he would. He didn’t want you raising a finger. 

He needed a woman like you all the time.

a/n: this is genuinely a draft before COVID that i posted on my very dead account. I rewrote and tweaked but it is still a very old concept. Idk i know I can write better than this but I felt like this needed more love first? sorry it's butt BAHAHAHA

side a/n: if you can't tell, i am ass at aftercare. mainly because I get too hot to lay together, I need weird me time after I have sex so I guess I've just never,,,learned?