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dilfl0v3rss · 10 months

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boxer!todo who trains almost every damn day. always wanting to be at his top physique at all times.

boxer!todo who lets you come with him to every training session or workout at the gym so you don’t get lonely.

boxer!todo who is undefeated due to his raw strength and ability to adjust to anyone’s fighting style. he’s beaten men bigger and faster than him because he’s just that good.

boxer!todo who doesn’t allow you to come to some of his fights. not wanting you to see how gruesome it could get in the ring.

“papa why notttt” you whined, feet stomping on the ground as you followed your boyfriend around the house. “cause i can tell how it’s gonna go. ion want you seeing all the blood and bruises ma.” he said calmly as he bent down to grab a water from the fridge. “but he was talkin so much shit at the press conference. talkin bout how he’s the best and how you never gon amount to him. wish i could fuck that nigga up myself.” you mumbled your last sentence, making todo chuckle as he watched how upset you were getting. you took the insults worse than him, and he was the one getting them. “don’t worry mama ima whoop his ass. jus need you t’stay here when the day comes while i go handle my business, aight?”

boxer!todo who spends his day offs taking you out or chilling with you at home.

boxer!todo who spoils you rotten with most of his money. if there’s was something you liked, expect it to be at your doorstep within the next week.

boxer!todo who makes sure you always have a good view of him at the fights he lets you attend. loving how you scream for him when he does a move he’s been working on or how you’re quick to lift him up when he takes a particularly hard hit.

“cmon pa we eat those”

“you got it baby hit him in the body”

“focus todo! you not done yet!”

“uhh huhhh he can’t fuck wit you baby”

he loved hearing your pretty voice.

boxer!todo who made sure to give you a reward for keeping him in check during ever match.

“you my good little motivator ain’t you mama?” his thrusts were quick, large hand pressed down lightly on your stomach so he could feel himself moving inside of you. “mhmm. you d-did so good daddy” you moaned. todo smiled as he began fucking you deeper, making your back arch off the bed as he caressed your cheek with his other hand. “did good ‘cause i had you there to cheer me on. love makin my pretty girl proud. you proud of me ma? lemme hear you say it.” todo didn’t care about how anyone else felt about him, but you. always seeking your validation after a good fight. “m’so proud of you. there’s n-nobody better papa.” “uhh huh. nobody.”

boxer!todo who also fucks you so good when he’s not happy with his performance after barely winning a fight that should’ve been “light work” for him. feeling that since he couldn’t give his all in the ring he’ll make up for it in the bedroom.

boxer!todo who never went out partying after his fights. always choosing to relax at home with you rather than be in a room with a bunch of drunk guys and bitches with their asses out.

boxer!todo who has you wear his chain during every match. you bought him the chain as a gift when he won his first fight as a pro boxer. it wasn’t the most expensive, but it was still worth a lot. you saved up for months to get it for him and he almost cried when you showed it to him.

“you didn’t have to-” “yes i did. you been working so hard and you deserve it. gon be the best there ever was baby” todo’s eyes began to water as he let you put the chain around his neck. it fit nice, sitting right over his strong pecs. “cant wear it while i fight so ima need you t’keep it safe f’me. that okay ma?” you nodded your head before giving him a passionate kiss on the lips. “i don’t mind wearin it as long as you continue to think of me” todo smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled your head into his broad chest. “always.”

boxer!todo who keeps a level head for most of his fights, never really letting the trash talk at the conferences get to him. he saw no point in trying to get a rise out of his opponent and felt that they should feel the same way, but they never did. there was only one time he let his anger take over and it nearly got him disqualified.

“a.t how do you feel about your ability to win this fight” the reporter said. todo kept his face serious as he thought about his answer. “well i been training real hard, learning some new skills. i feel like if i keep my head straight and fall through with my plans i should be able to win this thing.” he toyed with his chain as he spoke, not really thinking anything of this little event and just wanting to get home to his pretty girlfriend. the reporter asked his opponent the same question, and while he answered he noticed todo wasn’t paying attention to him at all. still playing with the gold around his neck. he noticed that it was the same chain he’d see you wearing when he would come to scout todo’s matches. a smirk planted on his face before he uttered something he’d come to regret. “yea i know ima win. and after i do, ima bring me a honey home. might even give his little girlfriend a taste since i heard she got a thing for winners.” loud gasps immediately filled the room as well as your living room while you watched the whole thing live on the edge of your couch.

everyone waited for todo to retaliate, but he didn’t. he kept calm as a small chuckle flew from his lips. holding his head down as he began to crack his knuckles. “we’ll see.” was all he said before the press moved on with their next question. everyone thought he was fine. his opponent even slumped down in his chair a little more as he thought his insult did absolutely nothing, but you knew the truth. todo only cracked his knuckles when he was angry. really angry. usually only doing so to keep himself from punching or breaking something. when he got home that night he acted as if everything was fine, but you could tell he thought about it all the time. by the way he’d hit the punching bag with a little more force than usual or how he nearly sent his trainer flying out the ring before walking towards his locker room. todo was pissed.

when the day came he made you promise not to come to or watch the fight. the seriousness in his tone made you worry, but you fell through with your promise because it meant so much to him. when todo came home it was a lot earlier than you’d imagine. his fights usually took thirty minutes to an hour, but at this rate his opponent couldn’t have lasted longer than the first round. “you win?” voice small as you watched your boyfriend quietly walk straight towards the bedroom. “mhm…” he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. you scrambled to your phone to see what could have him acting like this. a quiet gasp left your lips as you watched clips of the very short fight. like you thought, the poor guy didn’t last the first round. receiving blow after deadly blow from your boyfriend before eventually getting punched so hard in the face that he flew to the other side of the ring. “mama get in here! need you right now.” you smiled before taking a deep breath and skipping your way to your bedroom.

boxer!todo who fucked you the best when he was hot and jealous after a fight.

#aoi todo x black y/n #aoi todo x black reader #aoi todo x black!reader #aoi todo × black!reader #jjk aoi todo x black reader #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo × black reader #aoi x black reader #jjk aoi todo x black!reader #aoi todo smut #jjk aoi todo smut #jjk aoi todo x black y/n

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rene-darling · 1 year

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GROPING- pretty boy Xiao's body<33

He's so cute and pliable!! His years of training also make him really flexible

His body is littered with scars he's got from his past battles

He doesn't get your infatuation with his body, he personally never payed much thought to his mortal form

His stomach is really soft and squishy despite being slightly toned

He gets that when having intercourse you have to touch his body, but he doesn't understand why you go out of your way to touch his skin!!

He's related touching his skin with yours to intercourse so whenever you grope him he just assumes you wanna fuck!

You don't catch on cuz you'll never pass out an opportunity to fuck him

You and xiao had a rather rough night of fucking that's why this was one of the few times you had woken up before him

You couldn't help but admire how the sun hit his face just perfectly- he looked divine though he is a divine beast so it's understandable

Xiao shifted in his sleep turning his back to you, last night you cleaned up xiao and only put a shirt on him- which was yours, and was much larger than him, it was draping off his shoulders leaving them exposed

You moved closer to him and your hands found their way to your favorite place, in between his thighs of course you fondled them to your heart's content, they were so soft and squishy!

Your hands made their way under his shirt to his stomach running your hand along the scars that covered it and squishing his soft tummy in your hands

You continued switching from groping his stomach to now, your hand was in between his thighs drawing circles and squishing them

Soon enough xiao stirred in his sleep and finally opened his eyes, they adjusted to the light and slowly made their way down examining his body, he soon noticed you groping his soft thighs kneading them in your hand

"mhm-...y/n I can't go another round this soon.." he mumbled while slightly sitting up and turning his head to you "huhhh darling I haven't even done anything yet" "...but- your groping m-my body- don't be sly"

"darling the reason I'm groping your body is because your so fucking cute- and soft" your response just left him with wide eyes and a cute cherry blush spreading on his cheeks "uhm- i-i like your body too"

You just laughed at his cuteness and stuffed your head in his neck continuing to grope his soft thighs

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #sub genshin #genshin xiao #genshin hcs #sub genshin men #xiao fluff #xiao x reader #alatus #sub xiao #Xiao #Fluff #genshin fluff

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dolliestfairy · 8 months

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𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 ࿐ೀ

Jason Voorhees, Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, & Michael myers with Fem!Reader who is a Victoria Secret Models ✧ 𓏲๋ ⊹ ֢

𑁍 Tw : Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Denial, Insecurities, Mentions of Killing someone/murdering somebody, the word 'rotten' and 'blood'. Mostly fluff. Reader Skintone is Unannounced.

❁ Authors&Note ; THIS TAKE WAY TOO LONG CUS I'M SO FCKING LAZY 'M SO SORRYY 😭 but yea i tried my best... what do you think? i'll make part two if you like this one :) check out my Masterlist to see more stuff like this with different fandoms and community! happy reading fairies 🧚🏻‍♀️𓏲๋ ⊹ ֢

ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪ Jason Voorhees

• absolutely loved you with all of his dead heart and soul.

• and worship you as well, i mean how couldnt he? you're just soo beautiful! your beauty can even melt his own rotten heart.

• now we know that jason is a very insecure big boy, and sometimes he felt insecure and disgust at himself because he often thinks about the untruth that he doesnt deserve to have someone as pretty as you.

• now if you see him acting like this.. please reassure him that he's enough, because truth to be told; he really need it. he is just shy... you know?..

• but besides his insecurities he is absolutely over the heels for you, he also really support your carrier and would def 100% killed for you.

• if someone tryng to take down your carrier just tell him and he'll rip their heads off their own body.

• and again; this was all just for you, the only person he would love besides his mother, ever.

ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪ Vincent sinclair

• 'another draw insipration huhhh?' thats what this big 'ol boy thoughts about you when he first saw you.

• absolutely would die & killed for you. and let me tell you this guy is also has a mad respect for you.

• its like princess treatment you know.. anything you want he'll gave you it.. you want a new beautiful wax sculpture of yours? no problem baby.. he'll make it for you just gave him 1 weeks! you want something but its outside of the city? no problem! bo would do it for him. if he doesnt want to? lester would be the one.

• loves seeing you pose for yourself. it really gave him more ideas. he sometimes love to think of you in a different type of clothes.

• also loooove your confiedence, really boost his energy. his place was usually has this gloomy and just plain walls and floor with a rotten blood scent 'dancing' through his room, but once you step your feet in then the atmosphere would just like.. change for the better.

• he is actually kind of insecure about himself, but everyday he get better and better once he got those bless-kisses from you into his cheeks, and he freeaking loves it!

ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪ Bo Sinclair

• really cocky about it at first...

• but then turns out he was actually obsessed with you.

• he doesnt want to admit it though.. Hell, he would rather bury his own self alive than admitting his feelings towards you.

• its just that he felt like the feelings "love" is making him vulnerable and he just seems those as something as uneccesary and a waste of time.

• thats what he thought until he felt like he cant take it anymore as he just angrily confessed his feelings towards you with like zero preparations at all like it was all just... happen.

• this guy is a weirdo, but would never admit it anyway. and yeah... he likes you, a lot. but again.. He Would Never Say This Out Loud.

ִֶָ 𖥔 ࣪ Michael Myers

• doesnt really understand about the concept of those thing called "Victorian secret" you worked to.

• until he start observe and observe and observe.. stalking and stalking here and there.. trying to find the explanation.

• and when he finally got it, it was all just make sense to it. i mean you're a very irresistable person and it left him feeling so Struck-eye.

• but he would never admit this...

• it doesnt change anything at all tbh, the way he show about how much he loves you is that he doesnt hurt or even killed you.

• instead, at some rare occasion, you'll find yourself in your room with a strange yet pretty stuff besides it where it was covered in blood and shits.

• and yeah thats how this big dude show his scary intimidating love towards you <3 he's also always sometimes watching you sleep at night. i know its kinda creepy but uh.. at least he doesnt try to hurt you ig?.............

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deepestnightcolor · 2 months

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☾ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ’ꜱ (ᴄᴏᴄᴋ) ʙʟᴏᴄᴋ ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: It is me - and I am back with some new smut. Next up will be Sam, but here, our writer needs some help. So please, if you will, take a seat and enjoy the show.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Elliott (SDV) x GN!Reader

ᴡᴄ: 3111 words.

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: handjob, cursing, kissing, teasing, praising.

He couldn’t do it. He just couldn’t. He had been staring at the piece of paper in front of him for hours now, and he could have sworn by now it was mocking him. “The big author can’t even write a teeny tiny chapter, huhhh? Yeah, that’s right,” he heard the blank piece whisper to him. His head gave it a voice and all, and he had to wonder; why would that piece of flesh up there betray him in such ways? It was part of him, for goodness’ sake!

Groaning, Elliott hid his face in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut to fend off that annoying, pestering, absolutely stupid voice that bounced around his head like a ping-pong ball, before he let his slender fingers run through his long hair.

Alright. He could do this. He was an author, after all. A creative, hard-working author. No bare sheet of paper would force him into surrender. He gripped his feather again, dipping it into the tin of ink next to him before he hovered it over the paper, ready to write, ready to finish this book! And…

Nothing. Nothing happened. He didn’t even hear the gears in his head turning like he usually did when he was searching for ideas within the depths of his brain. Another groan left his swollen lips – he had been biting around on them all day – and in moments like this, he wished he wouldn’t have quit smoking his pipe when he had moved here.

“What’s wrong with you, sweets?” A voice from behind suddenly asked, making Elliott’s eyes flicker to the window in disbelief. He hadn’t even noticed how the brightness of the day had slowly been replaced by the darkness as the sun had slowly found the arms of the ground to rest. He had agreed upon meeting you at his shed tonight as he was leaving your farmhouse that morning. He thought back bitterly; just mere hours ago he had felt like he could finish thousands of books; that the tip of his feather would break from all the writing he was doing. He hadn’t expected that it would be his spirit breaking from the terrible blockage that kept the well of creativity sealed. Tightly sealed, at that! Scandalous, utterly scandalous.

The brunet was so lost in his thoughts, perhaps even in quite some self-pitying, that he didn’t even realize his lack of answer. An act of rudeness he would have never forgiven himself for in any other situation, but this, this was different. He hadn’t experienced such a silence in his head in ages, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Of course, all of this didn’t go unnoticed. You slowly put down the basket of freshly harvested vegetables you had brought so you and your lover could cook a meal tonight, carefully stepping up to him. You placed your hands on his shoulder slowly, gently beginning to massage them. You hadn’t ever seen Elliott this tense before, so full of… frustration. But you were glad to see that he almost immediately relaxed beneath the touch of your warm hands, his head falling backwards to lean against your chest, quite obviously seeking comfort. You brought up your hands to head and gently began massaging his scalp, your eyes falling on to the empty paper in front of him. So that was his problem – writer’s block. You yourself had been haunted by artist’s block or just plain lack of motivation when it came to your passions one too many times, which made you coo in understanding. You leaned down and kissed his forehead, getting a small, barely audible sigh in return. “Poor you,” you murmured, eyes trailing to his fist that was still tightly clenched around the feather. Usually, it was you that would have your emotions soothed by Elliott – there hadn’t been a single day in your relationship when this man hadn’t been calm, optimistic gentleman, only showing a sliver of anxiety when he had confessed his feelings to you. Which didn’t mean you weren’t happy to assist, quite the opposite, to be honest.

While you kept caressing your boyfriend’s long hair, your brain began forming an idea. Only yesterday you had come across an article that discussed about how blockades in creativity could be overcome by giving the brain a source of positive hormones, such as dopamine or even oxytocin. The problem about that was that people experiencing said blockage wouldn’t usually seek out such source themselves; too focused on trying to overcome the hurdle of not being able to do what they would like to do by simply trying to do it. The article also mentioned what could be the source of such positive hormones. You figured it was worth a try – seeing your boyfriend in such state of despair made your heart ache, and if you could be of assistance, you would try to be.

You rounded the chair your lover affectionately called his “writing chair”, taking a seat on the armrest. You were still massaging Elliott’s scalp with one hand, worry arising in the pit of stomach when there wasn’t even the meekest of complaints about how you were messing up his hair. However the fact that he had begun to melt in your touch felt good to you, like it always did. Elliott had always been sensitive to touch. Especially your touch.

Running your fingers down his arms usually resulted in goosebumps raising on his skin and a shudder rippling down his spine. You playing with strands of his hair often meant for him to lie completely still, mouth agape and eyes closed. Yes, Elliott was weak for being touched, and not even writer’s block could change that.

“El?”

“Yes, my love?” He murmured, voice soft, yet not able to cover the frustration lingering in each letter. He wanted to write, or at least know that he was able to. You knew he would be restless until that was the case.

“Would it be okay…for me to try and help you?”

Elliott’s eyes fluttered weakly as he gave you a shrug. “You can try, however… What if I am helpless case? Forever robbed of the power to access my very own creati- ah!” You had cut off his stream of words by brushing your thumbs over his nipples, something that always got him distracted in one way or another.

“What are you doing, my love? Oh!” You rolled the hardened buds between your index fingers and thumbs now, eyes focused on the writer’s face. You never wanted to go too far, and Elliott’s face was, ironically, like an open book. And right now, he was wordlessly urging you to go on. Smiling to yourself, you let your hands wander beneath the white dress shirt he always wore, even in the comfort of his own home, soaking in the shudder that rippled through his whole body when skin met skin. “Pretty boy,” you assure him, shifting on the piece of wood you had found your seat on to get closer to his face, your lips meeting his jaw and pressing gentle kisses on it.

Elliott’s breathing was laboured already; the sensations your lips and hands caused making each nerve tingle, the skin your fingers brushed burning up instantly. Your hands slipped from beneath his shirt, the loud whine of protest giving your confidence a boost and the feeling of guilt all the same. This was about him, your boyfriend. The same boyfriend that gave you his all, each day and every day. “Just gonna unbutton your shirt,” you mumbled against his jaw, allowing your lips to brush along his cheek now before pressing a kiss to the warm skin. Your lover relaxed almost immediately, his hands reaching to pop open the buttons but were stopped in their tracks by yours.

You smiled at him and began to undo each button yourself. Usually, you would take your time, tease him a little. See how far you could push him until he took matters into his own hands and made love to you, but not this time. When his upper body was revealed, you allowed yourself a moment to just take him in. His chest was toned from working on his little boat and heaving and right now, it was raising and falling quickly in anticipation.

You leaned in again, your lips finding his jaw again, ghosting over his lips which he desperately tried to meet with yours. You allowed it, albeit only for a fleeting moment as you let your own continue their journey. You kissed his neck, your kisses leaving a trail of goosebumps behind as you made your way to his chest. You sighed wistfully, eyes flicking up to his face. “Aren’t you absolutely stunning?”

The praise made a blush spread on his cheeks, but the smile that caressed his lips like yours had done just moments before was quite telling.

You smiled, blowing hot air against the spot that you had just kissed, using the gentle moan that you were rewarded with as a guide to keep going.

You got up from your seat and stepped between Elliott’s thighs, who happily obliged by opening them up to give you more space. You found your new place on your knees in front of him, hunched forward to have free access to his skin. Again, you began to kiss and lick at his skin, before finally letting your mouth engulf his hardened nipple. Not wanting to leave the other one without attention, you took it between your index finger and thumb again, adding gentle pressure into your caressing. “Yes! Yes, please…”

You were pretty sure you would be able to get Elliott to cum in his pants just by playing with his nipples; a glance downwards showed you that he was as hard as a rock already, and you would have bet money that you would be able to feel a wet spot on his boxers if you reached your hands down his pants. His hips were bucking up when he particularly big jolt of pleasure when through his body, breathless begs spilling from his mouth. He absolutely loved your touch. He would have given everything to have this feeling engraved on his skin, to always be kept on this level of ecstasy that his heart was pumping through his veins with great vigour.

However, you knew you wouldn’t let him come from just playing with his nipples a little, after all, the perfect opportunity was right in the palm of your hand. Well, maybe it was wrapped around your fingers; just before you had left your house you had slipped on the two rings that your boyfriend had gifted you for your one-year anniversary. The two of them were elegantly simple, and you loved wearing them whenever you could, though taking a closer look at them, you decided they could be of advantage, and maybe Elliott had had the same thing in mind when he had gotten them for you. One of the rings was a little bumpy in texture, while the other was smooth and soothing against your skin. You decided it was time to test your theory, pulling away from Elliott’s nipple with your eyes already trained on the crotch of his pants, when you felt a hand on your head, pushing you back against his chest.

“More,” he ordered, voice rough around the edges, but still full of despair, showing you a side of the writer that rarely, if ever, got to see the light of day. “But your-“

His hand kept pressing your lips towards him, breathing heavy as his other one reached down. You could hear the buckle of a belt, a sound that was like music to your ears, and then you could feel him struggling against the fabric. His hips rutted in the air again, but you admittedly weren’t quite sure if it the sole attempt of getting rid of his pants or him greedily trying to fuck the air. Since this was supposed to be about him, you decided to obey. Your mouth pressed kisses onto his skin against and you made sure to switch between sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, and quick, hard pecks, each sensation luring a different reaction out of him.

“Holy shit, don’t stop.”

This time it was you that shuddered – Elliott cursing? Certainly a new one. You swallowed thickly as you sucked on the man, trying to leave as many marks as possible, and maybe, just perhaps, you were selfishly trying to get more curses around of him.

Finally, you felt him settle into the chair again, his pants down far enough to reveal his black boxers. Just as you had expected when your fingers brushed over his still clothed shaft your fingertips were greeted with a spot of precum. He was desperate after all, chasing every single feeling of you touching him, not able to get enough. Maybe he just didn’t want to get enough because this was the perfect distraction. The voice in his head had gone quiet, being replaced by another, needier one that whispered nothing but please, please, please. He knew he was on your beck and call like this, but there were little things he cared less about. He hadn’t ever expected that he could have reached a cloud this high, but here he was. Touched by the love of his life and chasing a orgasm- Oh Yoba. Your fingers had found their way underneath the fabric of his boxers and around his cock. Something was different, however. Something besides your fingers was pressed against his girth. His eyes fluttered open, landing on you between his knees. Did he ever tell you how pretty you looked down there? He knew it wasn’t very polite to have you on the ground while he sat on a chair, but oh goodness you began moving your hand. An exasperated gasp left his neck and his head fell back, the feeling of something cold mixing with the warmth of your finger. His hands wrapped around the armrests of his chair, knuckles turning white from how hard he was holding on – he was sure his soul would leave his body if he didn’t. He just couldn’t make out the feeling against his dick. There were your fingers, but also something bumpy, and something so smooth that. The combination made his heart stutter, his hips snapping upward to get more. Much more.

“Please, love. Please,” he begged, and how could you deny him?

Your thumb collected some of the slick that was leaking from his tip already, using it to lube him up a bit just to clench your fingers a little tighter around him. The way Elliott was panting and rutting his hips into your hand showed you that you definitely were doing something right, leading him to the source of dopamine and oxytocin.

Your hand began to move up and down his shaft, rings massaging the veiny skin with every move. From above you came breathless moans and gasps; Elliott’s head was completely thrown against the head rest, his thighs twitching with every move of your hand, with every flick of your wrist. You were pretty sure he even kicked the air at some point. And really, the man couldn’t handle all this pleasure that was washing over him. It was overwhelming, tearing him apart, burning him alive. Flashes of hot white entered his vision; the time he had been able to see straight and formulate coherent sentences long gone.

Mumbles and groans of “yes”s and “please”s could be heard, the sound of your fist working his slicked up cock filling the shed instead of frustrated begs for his lack of ability to write to end.

“You gonna cum for me, Elliott? Hmm? Pretty please…I wanna see you cum for me,” you cooed, turning your head to the side to press kisses to the inside of his thighs, only pushing him closer to the edge.

You moved your hand fast one moment, just to use your fist to glide over his length carefully the next. He never knew what to anticipate next, because whenever he could feel his orgasm being so close, close enough for him to be able to almost grasp it you slowed down again. And whenever the lingering feeling of his peak began to loosen up, you made sure his balls tightened again by allowing him to fuck your fist and massaging his balls through the fabric of his underwear.

This was torture, really. No, it was heaven. Heavenly torture, maybe, he didn’t care. He was so close again.

He wasn’t going to finish the sentence; the cry that tore from his throat doing just little to showcase that immense orgasm that ripped through him. His legs straightened out, toes curling as his back arched in, the air being knocked out of his lungs. He was pretty sure he could smell every single colour on this green planet, and taste sounds at that. Spurts and spurts of cum covered your hand, and the inside of his underwear. But that was a problem for future Elliott; his problem seemingly was surviving right now.

“Mhm! Mhm! Oh shit, oh shit, sorry!”

The man was squirming beneath your touch now, nerve endings alarming his brain that he was overstimulated already, but he would have rather forever endured writer’s block than for you to stop. The feeling of the metal against his cock was driving him wild; drool was slipping from his lips, onto his glistening his chest.

“Gonna cum, love! Gonna-“

Panting still, Elliott’s cock was throbbing violently in your hand, that had slowed its pace by now. Your eyes were fixated on your boyfriend’s face, watching him go through all the emotions that seemingly came with his orgasm.

It took him several moments of sucking in as much air as possible, not daring to open up his green eyes. If his head already was spinning like this, he didn’t want to know what the world would look like.

“El?” You asked carefully, your hand still holding firmly onto the base of his cock.

“Oh…my…,” he murmured, voice just barely above a whisper. “What…what was that? Against..against me?”

You bit your lip, slowly pulling your hand from the writer’s boxers, holding it up almost guiltily. Elliott blinked a few times, before leaning down to take in your hand. His corners of his mouth quivered, making you unsure if he was about to cry for a split second.

“I knew they would come in handy once,” he chuckled, closing his eyes once more. You chuckled as well, slowly getting to your feet. You were about to wander over to sink to wash your hands when slender fingers wrapped around your wrist. Elliott brought your hand to his mouth without hesitation, tongue lolling out to lick each digit, before sucking one after the other into his mouth. He looked up at you while he was doing it, enjoying the look of complete shock on your face. He released your hand and cautiously pulled you down in a kiss, letting you taste him on his tongue.

The overstimulating feeling, however, made him whimper and slowly pull away.

“Thank you, my love.”

You smiled, quietly kissing his forehead that was covered by a thin layer of sweet, pride swelling in your chest.

The two of you settled into the silence, quietly holding hands when Elliott opened his eyes again, the green orbs falling onto the piece of paper that was resting on the table still. You sucked in a breath when he picked up the feather, hovering it over the paper.

And…

He wrote. A smile tugged at your lips, and you kissed his head, quietly making your way over to the basket. Thank Yoba you liked to read research papers when you couldn’t sleep.

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley farmer #stardew valley smut #sdv fanfic #smut #fanfic #sdv elliott #stardew valley elliott #SDV bachelor #sdv bachelors #reader #x reader smut #smut fic #stardew elliott

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inupibaldspot · 4 months

Text

A very short scenario which hasn’t ever left my brain.

"You think Suguru is fine?"

Gojo internally winched as he licks his popsicle ice cream. Summer in Tokyo was no joke, heat was blazing making everything extremely humid to the point it was suffocating accompanied by the sharp buzz of cicadas.

"Why wouldn't he?" He replies as his eyes slowly roll towards you. You had a small frown and eyebrow turning close to one another, a cup ice cream in your hand which you didn't make an attempt of eating. Gojo and you had lost a game of rock-papers-scissors which made you guys the pair to go buy ice cream as Geto and Shoko stays back.

Your pace was rather slow as you walk up the stairs but Gojo didn't mind, he never minds anything when it comes to you. "He hasn't been looking well, Satoru..." Nevermind, he did mind when you talk about Geto infront of him. Every time it would act as a sharp reminder that despite him having loving you for so long, you loved his friend; his best friend.

"I've bought him some snacks aswell since he hasn't been eating much but yesterday when I went to his room it was still laying in the corner." You huff. “He really needs to eat.”

“I talked to him about it…” Gojo licks some of the melted popsicle from his thumb as he turned his head to look at you; you had a curious look head tilted slightly the frown never lifting his face. He raises his hand and then gently pokes your head making you shriek .

“Satoru, that’s gross!”

“He said it’s the heat that’s making him that way.” He lips smile as you reach out for the end of his shirt to wipe your forehead,still muttering under your breath on how your forehead is sticky from the melted popsicle.

“ I guess this summer is indeed abit extreme.” You sigh as you finally enter the classroom building, finally a shaded place. “Take care of him when I’m gone okay?”

“Huhhh? You’re his girlfriend not me!” Gojo shouts making you giggle a little and somehow that’s all it takes for his irritation to subside. I wouldn’t have made you worry if you were mine.

“I won’t be here for a week… A WEEK, SATORU! So pleaseeeee make him eat and take some vitamins, it’s kept inside his shelve by his study table.“ The elders were not going easy on you these days especially since they’ve notice you can handle first grade curses on your own, they’ve been more inclined to send you on solo missions. ”If it runs out I have some more in my room, you can always get it.”

“Please~”

“Fine fine!” Gojo huffs as he surrenders, how could he not. He was yours; body, mind and soul if you wanted Gojo would destroy every inch of the country, for you… But unfortunately you were not his. “Just come back safe,you lil brat.”

Despite saying that ,how was he going to explain to you that’s not how the story played out. That your boyfriend who you’ve told to take care of had become a total psycho and ended up massacring an entire village and now is one of the most wanted people in the jujutsu scene.

Gojo doesn’t know how to explain how everything played out. Would you cry? Would you be heart broken? Would you weak and forget to eat? Would you join him…?

Now tell me how was he supposed to react when you came back, luggage in your hand from you mission. “I’m sorry, Satoru. You must have felt burdened.”

What were you talking about? Gojo despite still in shock, runs up to you to take your luggage from you hands and into his. “Did you hear what happened?”

“Yeah…” your voice soft and you slowly smile;head was dropping which covered your expression and hair falling into your face. “The funny thing was… Suguru, himself, came to pick me up and told what everything he’d done.”

Gojo stiffened as his eves starts tracing over to see if you had been injured before his rational mind reasons. There is no way Geto Suguru would hurt even a hair of yours.

“He looked better…so much better,Satoru….” You sniffed as you finally looked towards Gojo,you body finally felt weak. “After everything he told as a jujutsu socessor , I knew I had to stop him but…”

“His voice was light and slightly soft similar to the Suguru who I’ve met for the first time…who I fell in love with , his eye bags were no more, his body finally looked like he gained his weight back…” You dropped to the ground as Gojo didn’t dare do anything but simply stared. “He finally looked happy,Satoru…He no longer felt burdened with his thoughts and that…”

“That made me so relieved….”

Gojo sighs as he covers his hand with his shirt sleeves and bends to your level as he wipes your tears… Love is definitely the most twisted curse of all.

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo imagine #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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ohmark · 28 days

Text

timeline & updates on potential poohpavel new ghost-hunting series

Info/pics/text on pics from @pamteez. this is obviously not confirmed by CHANGE2561 or the author but is all speculation and my own delusion

Novel name: SingSaLaTai by MTRD.S (you can find them on Twitter with the same pseudonym)

Description: It’s about unsolved murder cases, where they find bodies where either their eyes or mouth are sewn by a red thread.

1. The author was literally giving permission about having PoohPavel play their characters & kept tweeting about it so much in February

2. Pavel then retweeted someone quote-tweeting the author

3. Pooh would play the doctor who can see ghosts

4. Pavel would play the criminal investigator

5. It would be PoohPavel dynamic again according to the novel

NEW SUS/DELULU INFORMATION;

PoohPavel confirmed they have a new series and they know the plot

Pooh said it’s PoohPavel

Pavel reposted some police/SWAT videos on TikTok which he has never done before

PoohPavel said they have a new private scheduled work on the Feather with PoohPavel live a few days ago

When Pooh said that they kept giggling and going “HUHHH??” to be all secretive about it & Pavel described it as “so hot” in English

They said they are training their bodies for “something” on Twitter

Their manager posted about PoohPavel making merit for their new project

A few days ago, the author replied to someone tweeting where PP from the Feather live had the same hair as the characters ⬇️

obviously they have a new series where they know the plot and PP have said the plot is interesting, but whether it’s this ghost-hunting one is up for debate. however if it’s not I won’t mind, especially if it’s another cool unique plot from PP! my fear for BL pairings that have a successful drama with a cool plot is if they downgrade to something boring & seen before. so i hope CHANGE keeps giving them & the PB cast interesting projects 🙏

#pit babe #pavel phoom #pit babe the series #poohpavel #pooh krittin #charliebabe #charlie babe #charlie pit babe #babe pit babe #pavelpooh #change2561 #pit babe cast #this love doesn't have long beans #garfieldbenz #sailubpon

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hannigramislife · 4 months

Note

for my own gratification bc i just ran into nie mingjue hate in the wild, would you mind making a post that defends my poor good boy? he worked so hard and got gaslit to shit before getting murdered terribly ;; literally everyone sat there telling him "youre being too harsh" and he's just responding appropriately. like yeah, if you witness a murder, ya kinda got to do something about that as a clan leader. its kinda your responsibility, even when you care about the person who did the murdering. he was also a really young when he took on the role of clan leader and idk, it just made me rlly sad to see people dunk on him cuz wtf he's literally just trying his best in an impossible situation WHILE being perpetually fucked over by his clan's own traditional cultivation cuz now the stronger he is as a leader, the closer he is to going literally insane and dying bc of it. (mingjue did nothing wrong i will die on this hill) ((sorry for going on a tirade, im just sad and defensive of my good boy rn))

Oh no! I'm so sorry you had to go through Nie Mingjue hate! Truly tragic. I went through that once when in the beginning of me reading the books, when I still had no proper opinions, and never again.

I'm more than willing to make a post about Nie Mingjue! I'm always down to talk about Nie Mingjue tbh, he's my heart and love and if I were to have been given the opportunity to be his right hand person, I would have simply never betrayed his trust and married him. Rip Jin Guangyao but I'm different.

Anyways, I, huhhh, actually think you?? Covered it all??? Pretty much?? Yet I will talk about it. This will be long and non-coherent, because I don't have the books rn to find quotes in them and honestly, I could write essays on Nie Mingjue either way.

Nie Mingjue is a central piece of the narrative, despite the limited amount of appearances he made, and the fact that he wasn't close to the main characters at all. The entire second part of the plot revolves around him- it happened because of him. His murder is a tragedy; literally, by greek standards, man has Cassandra Curse all over him, so I don't get how people can tell me, confidently, that his death was warranted. I've been told the man had asked for it, and this has mostly been by Jin Guangyao apologists.

So let me make something real fucking clear.

Nie Mingjue did not deserve to die. Let's get that out of the way, anyone can fight me on that. Nie Mingjue had more good qualities than half the people in this fucking story, despite his flaws. After his father was brutally murdered when Mingjue was only in his teens, Nie Mingjue stepped up as clan leader. We can only speculate the hardships that await someone leading a clan at such an early age. Yet, political challenges weren't the only thing he had to battle; Nie Mingjue knew about his clan's harmful cultivation, and he knew he was going to die young. So what did he do? His best. Literally his best, always. He was always giving 100% of his abilities, because that's who he was.

Let's talk about who Nie Mingjue was, shall we?

When Jin Guangyao, still Meng Yao then, describes Nie Mingjue, he finds himself perplexed, because Nie Mingjue isn't like other men. He is not frivolous, and he has no vices; Meng Yao describes how Nie Mingjue never showed an interest in arts, or alcohol, or women. All he did was train, and fight the Wens during the war. It shows that he had a one-track mind from the start, and has got a strict discipline; yet this strictly disciplined man, leader of a clan that prizes strength, continuously indulges his lazy and undisciplined half-brother, his one and only heir, despite not understanding his interests. We gather, pretty quickly, that Nie Mingjue is a bleeding heart for his brother, and for the ones he loves in general. We see the same softer side displayed in the presence of Lan Xichen, and of course, for some time, Meng Yao.

People seem to think Nie Mingjue took Meng Yao's betrayal too harshly. As if somehow seeing a man he thought to have been just and honest commit premeditated murder, then cover it up, was something he was just supposed to get over. To this day, I can't believe how Lan Xichen was so understanding of it. But not only did Nie Mingjue catch him in a cowardly act - Meng Yao proceeds to manipulate him, using the fact that Nie Mingjue cared about him, to stab him in the back. Or front, however it happened. I get that Meng Yao was in a difficult position, that he suffered at the Jins, that he felt backed in a corner; but Nie Mingjue was a man that had extended his help to Meng Yao before, and even then, he went to find Meng Yao in righteous fury, ready to help him again. To Nie Mingjue, the idea that Meng Yao "had no other choice" but to kill - to kill in the manner he did - it could have been nothing but a betrayal.

One thing that I personally highly respected Nie Mingjue for was the fact that he did not judge Meng Yao for his background. This is not up for debate; Nie Mingjue stood up for him, quite publicly, quite vocally, when Meng Yao was being insulted over it. And not only that, but he promoted Meng Yao to be his right hand man, just like that. Because he's impulsive, and to prove a point, but it was still huge of him to do. Not even Lan Xichen would have done that - In a society built on power dynamics between social classes, Nie Mingjue was one of the few characters who did not let that define his actions. It wasn't because he was born privileged (though he was) but because he he didn't let anything other than his judgment direct his actions. Nie Mingjue also never shied away from anything; if it had to be done, he did it, no matter the cost.

Nie Mingjue was decisive, and had an iron will. When Meng Yao killed the Nie disciples in Qishan, he wanted to kill Meng Yao. Meng Yao told him, paraphrasing, that "don't you understand that if I hadn't done that, it would have been your corpse up there?" and Wei Wuxian takes it to mean "Translation: I saved you so you can't kill me, because that would mean you're in the wrong." So Nie Mingjue hesitated for a second, then said: "Fine! I'll kill you, and then take my own life!" And the only reason he didn't, was because Lan Xichen was there. Otherwise, Nie Mingjue would have killed his former friend, then followed him to whatever afterlife awaited.

Nie Mingjue is often portrayed like he doesn't understand stuff, like he's stupid, simply because of his black and white sense of morality. That's not correct: Nie Mingjue understands motive, but he doesn't accept the ends justifying the means. Scratch that, he doesn't accept or justify either, if they're unjust. The murder of the Jin commander, the murder of the Nie disciples, not executing Xue Yang - how can Nie Mingjue possibly understand Meng Yao's decisions, when Nie Mingjue would rather die, any day, than live thanks to vile actions?

And then, Nie Mingjue starts falling into qi-deviation. We know that it affected his temper the most, and his judgement. I don't understand how it works, really, so I don't know by the end how much was Nie Mingjue and how much was the mess that the spirit made of him - maybe a combination of the two. But what is certain, is that the rapid qi deviation changed him.

But I could write a hundred more pages on him, meticulously going over every single scene he has ever appeared in, because I find him that interesting. I find him the most interesting, and the most appealing character, because in a story where the navigation of the cultivation world's complex politics and hierarchies with tact and diplomacy is crucial, Nie Mingjue stands uncompromising in his principles, choosing duty and honor over anything else, even when it's hard.

#the untamed #mdzs #cql #mo dao zu shi #nie mingjue #nie mingjue had his flaws #and he had his virtues #i will not allow slander on his name #when he always did what he thought was best and just and good #when he was loving and kind and hot-headed but he was also just in his early 20s with the weight of the world on his shoulders #cold absolutely freezing day in hell when i'm over him

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cowboyfromh3ll · 6 months

Note

hiii! i love love love your writings! i was thinking of something cute and i knew you would be the best person to write it! so what about fem!reader who joined the gang recently and its so obvi to everyone at camp she has a big fat crush on arthur! maybe shes too shy to say anything to him so the gang often tease her and him and are all like “when are y’all gonna date!?” i find it so cute imagining then two being so flustered around each other ESPECIALLY reader… shes just so shy around him!! imagine her doing some sewing with the girls and she doesn’t even realize shes repairing a tear in arthurs fav blue shirt! maybe abigails like “aww thats so nice of you repairing arthurs shirt” and shes like HUHHH🥺(im sorry this is so long i got carried away hehe)

Somethin' Stupid

(Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Fluff)

I'm working around the clock for y'all 🫶

Warnings: none y'all r just cute

You’d found it mildly absurd how when you first came to camp upon the rear end of Arthur’s horse, how shortly after you had integrated yourself in with the camp girls, they had begun teasing you over your proximity to Arthur. When he had first saved you from a group of Murfree Brood, you’d been weary of the man before you; convinced the devil himself had sent another of his minions your way to continue brutalizing you as some sort of unscrupulous punishment. You’d nowhere to go, and nothing to call yours except the squalid chemise on your back; you hadn’t even a pair of shoes, forced to run through the woods of Roanoke Ridge on bare foot. Though upon offering you food and shelter, with no trace of forcefulness or malicious intent in his voice, you’d slowly warmed up, hesitantly allowing him to pull you up onto his horse. By the time you arrived, your arms were wrung around Arthur’s waist tightly.

You’d explain to Arthur how your family was traveling up north until you’d been ambushed, your parents being murdered and left behind, while they took you and your wagon as a prize claim. Besides the other women at camp, you had been hesitant to trust anyone of the other men besides Arthur. You often spoke to him, scarcely with the others. It was easy to find comfort in the man who had saved you, and you revered him the same way one would revere their lifelong hero. He held a reassuring aura; it told you that he’d never allow anything to happen to you again as long as he was around.

Upon the first few days of your arrival, a few men in the camp would pass by the tent you were resting in, ogling awfully long at you with the same astound interest as a child in a zoo. You’d taken things easy, allowing yourself to rest and recover your aching body while the women took care of you. Susan Grimshaw, the motherlike figure in camp, would tend to you meticulously. She’d shoo away any men who got too close to you, including Arthur, insisting that he would be tiring you out by talking to you.

In the small windows of time where Grimshaw wasn’t circling you like a hawk, you’d invite Arthur over and entertain lighthearted conversation. Socialization proved to be one of the most healing things, and within a few weeks you’d broken out of your withdrawn and tense state.

The initial allegations over your sweetness for Arthur were uncalled for, almost downright insulting. The basis for such claims made no sense to you, and you argued that it only made sense for you to find so much comfort in the man who had saved you. That, much to your dismay, only fueled their teasing. Your counterpoints that you had just experienced terrors beyond comprehension fell on deaf ears, and they instead said it just made all the more sense you’d cling to Arthur. Your biggest teaser, Mary-Beth, swooned over your supposed love story, insisting she write something based on the two of you.

Your interactions with Arthur did not help either. What you thought was normal, was picked apart by virtually everyone in camp who watched you interact. Their main point of contention was the way Arthur allowed you to leaf through his journal, even drawing you from time to time and bashfully handing you the drawings; apparently no one else was allowed near it. Whenever you spoke of a particular flower you saw, or an animal you found cute, Arthur would coincidentally happen to have a drawing of it. There were a few pages Arthur did not allow you to look at. Initially, you thought perhaps they were far too emotional or dark, but he’d already allowed you to read every dark entry in his journal already. You’d begun having your suspicions, but out of respect for him, and not wanting to break his trust for you, you did not read certain pages. Arthur would find it far too embarrassing for you to read through his pages full of sweet nothings about you.

A few of your accusers in camp were shared by Arthur, one of which being Uncle. You could practically hear him hollering at Arthur from across camp about how he needed to fess up to you and ask you out already, to which he’d receive a grumbled “shut up”. The obnoxiously loud interaction had you blushing and fidgeting uncomfortably as people looked over at you knowingly, their gazes intensifying when Arthur would walk over to you, greeting you with an embarrassed “Hey”.

As your affections for Arthur grew, so did your coyness. You’d fidget with your hair, twirling strands around your finger. The two of you would trip over your words in a painfully kittenish attempt at conversation. Arthur would listen patiently as you tried to gather yourself after failing miserably at delivering a simple sentence because of how much you were trembling around him. And you’d grant him the same level of patience when he’d anxiously ask if you’d be okay with posing for him for a drawing.

Sometimes you’d practice certain things to say to Arthur, fantasizing over how scenarios would play out in your head and giggling as each and every time the fantasy would end with Arthur professing his love for you. It was your main form of entertainment whenever you carried out the mundane, everyday tasks that the camp required of you. Seemingly lost in your own world, you’d think up of a million ways how you and Arthur would come to a union. And as you became engrossed in your daydreams, you’d lose focus and end up pricking yourself with your sewing needle. Your fingertips were littered with pin pricks at this point.

You’d heard a thousand times “Why don’t you ask him out already?!”.

You could ask yourself the same things. Perhaps it was the crippling fear of rejection. Or the foreboding thought that perhaps you had misread all of his gestures towards you as romantic. But whenever he would hand a rock to you, stating that it reminded him of you, you could not help but believe ‘Wow, he really does think of me!’. You had an entire box full of small shiny rocks and pebbles next to your cot already.

“Sure would be nice if the men could help with the laundry once in a while.” Tilly chided, watching as a few of them sat around a table drinking.

“Don’t count on it.” Karen scoffed, laughing dryly, sewing together one of Sean’s torn trousers. “Some of ‘em don’t even do anything around camp, and they say our jobs are easy.”

The girls giggled amongst themselves. You sighed in relief over the fact you weren’t the topic of today’s conversation for once. You sifted through a basket of freshly washed and dried clothes, making your pick as to what you’d patch up today. You pulled out a bright blue button up, looking at it with a familiarity you couldn’t quite place your finger on.

Regardless, the blue called to you, and you got to work. You’d slumped over next to Abigail, surrounded by the rest of the working girls. You fell into another fantasy between you and Arthur, drowning out the spirited chatter between the girls. The tear in the shirt wasn’t a hard task, and you found the motions rather repetitive. In the months you had been there now it was a chore you had mastered.

You held the shirt out in front of you, studying it with pride as you admired your seamless work on the repair.

“Aw look at you, so sweet on the guy that you’re fixing his clothes for him!” Abigail teased, nudging you.

“Huh?!” You blushed.

Suddenly, the shirt was taken from your hands, and you looked up to see Arthur.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I appreciate it.” He told you gently, before walking off with it.

“Oh!... You’re uhm… welcome.” You choked on your own words, glad that Arthur didn’t stick around long enough to hear. Naturally, you felt every single girl look at you, the levels of their giddyness felt even by you. Once Arthur was out of ear shot, they squealed and nudged you.

“He called you sweetheart!” Mary-Beth crooned.

“Did you see the way he was looking at you? COME ON! He wants you!” Karen laughed.

“You can’t argue with this one!” Tilly added enthusiastically. You couldn’t help but giggle and go along with their teasing, cupping your cheeks as they heated up. If you could, you’d fall to your side and kick your legs while squealing about how much you liked him.

Your mind couldn’t explain it, or make it go away. You were in love.

Somethin' Stupid - Frank Sinatra

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cainluvr69 · 23 days

Text

"The Master Swordsman Smiles Fearlessly" Cain SR Story - Take My Hand

Cain: (There really isn't much info on Kirsche Persche, huh.) (I guess for right now I'll see if anyone around here has anything, and then report back--)

???: What do you think you're doing?! Give me back my wallet!

Cain: !! (That voice came from…that alleyway.) Hey there, friends. Mugging someone in broad daylight, huh?

Riquet: …! Who…?

Grey-haired Man: Huhhh? Keep your nose outta our business and it'll stay atta… …! You fucker, you're Ventisca's katana expert, aren'tcha. Who'da thought I'd see your ugly mug again.

Cain: Again…? Oh, yeah, now that you mention it, I have seen you before. You two started getting rowdy in one of our shops, so I had to smash your faces into the pavement about it.

Scarred Man: D…don't say it like that! Damn, we're gonna pay you back big time for that!

Cain: You two don't learn easily, do you… Well, whatever. I'll take you both on. Hey, you. You should run while you have the chance. Just leave the rest of this mess to me.

Riquet: I--I'm not going to run! I couldn't possibly let them fight you two against one…

Grey-haired Man: Shut the fuck up already! Take this!

Cain: …jeez.

Grey-haired Man: Gwah?!

Riquet: !! He knocked that man so far back with just one swing…!

Cain: I'd rather not get violent in front of a kid, but… I figure smashing your faces against the pavement again might get the message to stick this time. So come on, feel free to come at me however you'd like.

✦✧☾✧✦

Scarred Man: Th…then how's this?! --Ghh?!

Riquet: Attacking from behind is an act of cowardice! Now repent for your sins!

Cain: Rope darts…? Hey, you know how to fight? I totally thought you were some pampered rich kid…

Riquet: I am nothing of the sort! I'm perfectly capable of fighting with these. Please leave this one to me!

Cain: Gotcha! But I wanna talk to you when we're done here, alright? Let's make this quick. Hah!

Riquet: Haah!

✦✧☾✧✦

Those Guys: Tch… R-run for it!

Cain: Whew, we're finally done… Hey, kid, you're not hurt, are you?

Riquet: No, I am not. Thank you very much for coming to my rescue, um…

Cain: My name's Cain. Good to meet you.

Riquet: Cain. My name is Riquet. Um…what are you putting your hand out for?

Cain: What, you don't know? It's for a handshake. Even if it was a brief battle, I still entrusted my back to you. I want to express my respect for you, as well as my gratitude. If you're not opposed, just grab my hand.

Riquet: Wahh, Cain, your hand is so warm…

Cain: Ahaha, I get that a lot. How about you, do you get told that your face looks like a little kid's when you're not fighting?

Riquet: Wah, n-no, I don't! Stop treating me like a kid, you're getting my hair all messy…!

Cain: Sorry, sorry. Here, I'll smooth it back out.

Riquet: Goodness gracious… You were so cool when you came to rescue me, but I see that in truth you're rather unrefined.

Cain: Am I? But, hmm, something about the way you said that… Feels oddly nostalgic for some reason.

Training Episode: Unchanging, Even In One's Dreams

Cain: The dreams you have are always so intense, Master Sage. Could you tell me more about that latest one?

Akira: Sure, I don't mind.

Cain: Let's see, it was the one where Snow was an adult, and me and Mithra were his henchmen.

Akira: Oh, yes. Riquet and I were in a different organization that was in conflict with yours, though…

Cain: By conflict, you mean I had to fight you guys? I dunno how I feel about that…

Akira: Oh, no, it never came to that! But one time you did stop me from running away when I was scared… Seeing you be so threatening gave me chills.

Cain: I can't believe the version of me in your dreams would do something like that to you. Next time you see him, be sure to chew him out for me.

Akira: Ahaha. Now that I'm awake, it just sounds funny. Besides, it wasn't like you were a super scary person in that dream or anything. Once I actually got to talk to you, it was obvious right away what a friendly, kind person you really were.

Cain: What, really?

Akira: Yes! All of the best parts of you didn't change a bit.

Cain: Ahaha. Getting complimented like that is a little embarrassing. But rather than that being kindness, I'd say it was…

Akira: Was what?

Cain: That the me inside your dream wanted to become friends with you, too. Since, hey, that was what I was thinking when you and I first met, Akira.

#.mhyktl #.cardtl #cain knightley #almost had a real yandere moment because of this card's training ep but it's okay. we're normal #for now.

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zzoguri · 4 months

Text

here’s much to do with hate, but more with love ➵ lee sangyeon & lee hyunjae

non-idol!lee sangyeon x reader, non-idol!lee hyunjae x reader

when you land the lead role for your university's upcoming play, you expect your scene partner to be your best friend, lee hyunjae. but when your eyes discover a different lee beside romeo montague's, you're certain that the universe is not on your side.

genre/warnings ➵ enemies to lovers, slight friends to lovers (kind of), afab reader (they/them pronouns), university au, theater au (?), suggestive themes, drinking, pet names (sweetheart), huh yunjin is your bestfriend, i don't remember much from physics so my bad if angular momentum is not taught in college (or probably a basic lesson), kevin moon is the director and kibum from shinee is the teacher advisor, three different scenes and one flashback, p1harmony cravity twice and ive cameo too, theater kids do know how to have fun!, sangyeon macbeth burn, the scottish play is macbeth btw, theater superstitions mentioned!!

word count ➵ 6.1k words

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu

a/n ➵ here's my submission for the secret santa fic exchange of the deoboyznet! i got daisy @daisyvisions <3 i hope you enjoy this, and i hope i got to fulfill your request (and did justice to sangmil) <3 thank you to @vernyangel and @winterchimez for betareading this <3 also thank you to @shegotthewoobies and @sizzlingdino for sharing your theater knowledge <3 much love <3 i'll definitely consider writing a part 2 for this fic if anyone wants it :') for everyone, please don't forget to reblog (even if it's in your tbr) and leave feedback <3

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To exist is to perform. At every waking moment—every second, every location, every play—is an audience ready to witness an act, regardless of whether they attended the first act or came in the middle of the third. To exist is to perform. No matter what role you signed up for, you’re left to act as your own backstage crew, cast, and director. To exist is to perform. There’s no such thing as intermission for the crowd remains rooted in their seats. To exist is to perform. You’re born an actor; nothing can change that.

There’s an unwritten contract that comes with being an actor; it is to understand your role and scene, and then immerse in what your character is undergoing. Let the curtains draw back and feel. And most of all, never allow the audience or your castmate to disrupt the show.

(It didn’t matter if you were performing for someone or no one. The roles you undertake are made for you, after all; it’s only right to perform, perform, perform.)

(And regardless of the nature of the role—ensemble or lead, it didn’t matter because they held their own value—you knew to perform it as if it were your last show. But you’ll never allow yourself to be a ham; you would rather have someone exclaim the official name of “The Scottish Play” in the theater—scratch that, you would rather hear “good luck” at every opening night.)

For today’s play, you’re left with a monotonous role—a university student forced to listen to the blabbering of a lecturer as they teeter on a tightrope. At any second, you swear you could almost slip and fall into slumber, but the sound of your professor clearing his throat is what has you scrambling back into focus.

“So, angular momentum.” God, you need to get out of here.

Before you can find yourself falling back into your thoughts, the table vibrates. You look down at your phone to see a text from your best friend.

jennikirin: GIRRRLLL… jennikirin: i just heard that sir key posted the casting list

Your eyebrows shoot up. With hands quick to grab your phone and type out a reply, the voice of your professor turns into elevator music.

y/n: HUHHH isn’t that supposed to be coming out next week??? jennikirin: YEAA but zuha told me that sir key and kevin wanted it up early just so they could start preparing for the production jennikirin: jichang told her btw HUEYIQEYE y/n: IMCRYAINDG!?!@?@ y/n: fuck ME now i have to sit through the rest of this class knowing that the list is out already??? jennikirin: DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED i’m stuck with sir son in stupid econ… jennikirin: like I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU GREGORY MANKIW!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!! y/n: i’m learning about stupid angular momentum under sir won… y/n: like i’m only here because ITS A GENERAL SUBJECT!!! I’M AN ADVERTISING MAJOR?? jennikirin: nvm sir son is dismissing us early 💗 i’m bolting to that corkboard see ya y/n: FAWK YEWWWW

All you have to do is follow through with your role until the curtains draw close—a simple task that seems impossible to complete. If your knees were to hit the ground and your hands would come together in a prayer position, would the performance be life-changing that the show is cut short? Could you be free from your duty as an actor playing a student?

(And it’s funny because you spent countless hours studying and praying to get into this university; you were in no position to complain.)

“That’s it for today’s class! Please make sure to read up on—”

You were out of the classroom before you could hear your professor’s full announcement. The details of your next assignment don’t matter when your fate is stored in a paper posted on a corkboard.

(Though, you know it is a lie. You did need to pass Mr. Won’s class to get your degree, and you didn’t want to go through Physics a second time.)

The hallway is filled with rumbling students, off to go to their next class or itching to get some food during their break in between. As you made your way through, you could only spit out half-hearted excuses—Sorry! Just passing!—as you bumped shoulders with strangers. Different looks were thrown your way, apologetic and scornful ones to name a few.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, and you look down to see a text message from Yunjin. A sigh leaves you as you type out a reply while walking.

jennikirin: I JUST GOT HERE jennikirin: WRU y/n: OTW WAIR FIR ME jennikirin: BITCHHHH OKAY

Once you’ve made it out of the sea of extras, you can spot the brown corkboard surrounded by a crowd of students, and you can see your ginger-haired friend looking down at her phone. She’s pacing around, struggling to not look at the cast list.

“Huh Yunjin!” Her eyes land on you as you call out her name. You scurry your way to her. “Sorry! The hallways were packed.”

“It’s fine! Now, we need to check the casting list. I was practically dying not looking at it.” She tugs on your arm, maneuvering you both closer to the paper plastered on the corkboard. As she says excuses, you spot familiar faces leaving with different expressions—joy and disappointment to name a few.

You can spot Yoon Keeho and Hwang Intak walking away, sighs of relief leaving them. Shoulders down are what Kang Minhee and Ham Wonjin sported, a teary-eyed Song Hyeongjun trailing behind the two. Faces of those you knew during your time in countless productions, and others you’ve only met during auditions; they’ve read the paper that had their fates.

Every step is a dreadful one as you trudge your way through the crowd. (Or you could say being dragged by your best friend.) But before you can attest, you find yourself facing Yunjin, both of you only one look away from finding out your fates.

“Okay, are we ready?” Be still, your heart.

With one nod, you both look at the piece of paper that holds the names of those participating in the Romeo and Juliet production. As you spot Yunjin’s name beside Rosaline Capulet, your heart leaps at the sight.

“Oh my god, Yunjin, you GOT IT!”

“Y/N, YOU’RE JULIET!” You lock eyes with your best friend, eyebrows raised in confusion at her words. “Girl, look!” She moves your face with one hand and has the other pointing right where your name lands—Y/N as Juliet Capulet. Your hand reaches to your face, palm covering your mouth as you hold back a gasp. Mind jumbled, you didn’t know what to say.

Yunjin pulls you into an embrace, jumping in her place. “WE GOT IN!” Her cheer sounds throughout the hallway, earning stares from those surrounding you two and those passing by.

Your eyes trail down the list, trying to find someone’s name. The sight of your other best friend’s name has you smiling, but you’re pulled out of your utopia when you find it situated beside a character he didn’t audition for—Lee Jaehyun as Count Paris.

“Hyunjae didn’t get Romeo?” The whisper has Yunjin halting her actions.

Her eyes rest back on the casting list. “What? He didn’t get in?”

“No, he did, but he’s playing Paris.” With furrowed eyebrows, your eyes look to who your scene partner is; who is your Romeo Montague? And when you see the word “Lee”, you expect that Sir Key might’ve made a mistake and inputted Hyunjae’s name twice.

That is until you read the word that trails after the first—Lee Sangyeon as Romeo Montague.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Lighting erupts within you. The air current moves at a speed fast enough to form a tornado, and it just so happens that you’re in the eye of it. You’re face-to-face with a natural disaster, wondering its next course of action—to consume you whole or to leave you be.

Lee fucking Sangyeon; oh how you couldn’t even say his name without your blood boiling. Is there anything even good to say about the cocky motherfucker?

You shared the tragic fate of attending the same high school as Sangyeon. And just like you, he was in the theater club. At first, he was just someone like you—a student with a passion for acting. But the thing about Sangyeon is that he presents himself well, earning gushes from those part of the club, students and teachers alike. It seemed that he was the perfect actor, always landing the leading roles. At one point, you wanted to believe that it was because he was a good actor, but the reality unraveled itself when you saw what was behind the scenes.

Lee Jaehyun, or Hyunjae as he goes, shared the same dreams as Sangyeon. They both wanted to act, ideally landing leading roles. The passion the two shared should’ve fostered friendly rivalry, a way to propel them to reach heights never imagined. But the more Sangyeon received countless opportunities to play the lead role, the more Hyunjae’s determination started to crumble. What makes the whole thing even bleaker is that Sangyeon knew what his rival felt, and made the most out of that opportunity to tear him down.

What started off as genuine words of encouragement had turned into two-faced statements. And it hurt to see your best friend believe he was incapable of becoming an actor. If anything, you could name countless roles that he deserved to play the leading role, and many could agree with you. As your best friend started to crumble, you were driven by the desire to protect him. With every appearance Sangyeon made, your hostility towards him grew, and it didn’t help that he solidified it with only one interaction.

Scratchy; that’s what your sweater feels like against your skin. Perhaps it’s the heat of the hallway that has you wanting to strip your knit sweater off, or the material has just worn off. You tug on the collar, hoping that the discomfort will dissipate. Eyes trained on the corkboard that held the names of productions your club has done throughout the years, you wonder what role could you land for The Scottish Play.

It’s unlike you to audition for a big role, a leading role to be exact, for you found yourself growing comfortable in minor ones and ensemble. Yunjin has never been able to convince you to audition for the big roles, and your other friend, Kim Younghoon, could never find the right words to push you to sign up under a main character. But Hyunjae held some power over you—If you audition for Lady Macbeth, I’ll try out for Macbeth—and you couldn’t find it within yourself to say no, especially when Hyunjae was considering giving up auditioning for leading roles overall.

You can feel the coolness of the concrete wall against your nape. Hamlet, Three Kingdoms, Sweeney Todd, and more are the productions you’ve hesitated to audition for the lead roles. You close your eyes in an attempt to calm your nerves. One audition wouldn’t kick you out of the club, right? If Ms. Jang learned that you were unfit to be an actor at that moment, you put the blame on Hyunjae.

(But in reality, you knew you would blame yourself. Hyunjae wouldn’t be at fault for what Ms. Jang decides to do with you. Every failure you face is caused by you, and you need to take responsibility for each one.)

Then, the door swings open, and the cold air that the air conditioners of the theater expel hits your skin, causing goosebumps to form. A shudder runs down your spine. Your eyes peel open, and you’re ready to greet the person who exited the theater, about to wish them luck. But when you catch sight of the one person who has done nothing but tear your best friend down, the taste in your mouth is like acid.

His head whips in your direction, catching sight of you seated with the sample script that Ms. Jang provided resting on your lap. His eyebrows shoot up and his eyes trail you from top to bottom. “So, which one?”

The question catches you off guard. Although you didn’t like Sangyeon, you two didn’t really talk for there was no reason to do so in the first place. So, when he does decide to talk to you—like this moment, and it’s not like you two really talked until now—you find yourself surprised at the interactions.

When you tilt your head in confusion, he chuckles with a smug look plastered on his face. “Which of the Three Witches?”

And with just one question, you feel your resolve snap. For him to assume that you were auditioning for one of those roles felt like an insult. It’s not that you didn’t see the value of these roles; you know that the production is nothing without the people to fulfill the minor roles. But to hear such a question from him with his record of humiliating Hyunjae, you cannot help but believe he’s trying to do the same to you.

“I’m auditioning for Lady Macbeth,” you answer, venom laced with your tone. It doesn’t help that shock casts on Sangyeon’s features.

“Oh, I see,” he starts. He clears his throat, an attempt to hide his bewilderment, and shoots you a smile. “Well, I’d like to have you as my scene partner.”

Cocky—that’s all Lee Sangyeon will ever be. His ego has been inflated with all the leading roles he’s landed. You’ve never met anyone filled with pride like his; how could he prance around with confidence that he would get the role he auditioned for every single time?

You roll your eyes as you stand up from your seat, the script now in your hands. “I can’t believe you’re so confident that you’ll be playing Macbeth. Have you ever considered that maybe you won’t play the main role for once?” The glare you shoot at him does nothing to his pride.

“I don’t know, I’m pretty confident about the performance I gave just a few minutes ago.”

It baffles you. Sangyeon continues to prove that he’s never been given a reality check; maybe you should snap some sense into him.

“I’d rather settle for being part of the ensemble—no, having no role than play your scene partner.” If Sangyeon is thrown off by your statement, he does a good job hiding it, just like the supposed perfect actor when it comes to handling ad-libs on stage. He would never understand what it means to be an actor—what makes a production successful—if he didn’t appreciate the minor roles.

If he had something to say back to you, you don’t give him a window to do so for you have taken your leave. You first came with a desire for the auditions to be over, but now, you come with a desire to prove you’re an actor capable of any role. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought, especially whatever Lee Sangyeon seemed to think about you.

For the first time, you and Hyunjae played the leading roles in a production. Sangyeon was left as an understudy.

Although you were in university, it’s not that you could escape Sangyeon for you two were in theater. Thankfully, the productions you’ve had a chance to work on didn’t always have Sangyeon playing the leading role.

(Though, he did still play a handful. Perhaps he still held some charm over the university crowd.)

But due to the bigger cast and production team, it was usually easy for you to avoid him. You know when to take your leave, and you know to tune him out if you can hear him act (or speak, really). Nothing good ever comes out of interacting with Sangyeon; it’s best to limit your interactions with him for it would preserve your sanity.

But the universe seems to have other plans for you. Face-to-face with his name situated right beside the name in which your character is romantically interested, you cannot help but read his name again, and again, and again.

You wish that this is just a nightmare, that you fell asleep in the middle of Mr. Won’s class, and that you’re paying for the consequences by your consciousness presenting you with the worst outcome. God, you really did mean it when you said you would rather settle for no role than play Sangyeon’s scene partner.

Stupid Sangyeon, Sangyeon, Sangyeon. And as if it were the curse of the Bloody Mary, saying his name three times brings you to your demise.

“Huh, guess you ended up being my scene partner after all.”

You whip your head to where the devil stands, right beside you with arms crossed as his eyes remain on the casting list. His gaze lands on you, and a smug grin rests on his face. “I’m wondering if you’ll talk to Kevin or Sir Key about withdrawing from the production.”

His words make you frown. Before you can retort, he walks away, your eyes burning holes into his back. Yunjin could sense the rage within you and kept her hands on your shoulders in an attempt to calm you down.

An exasperated sigh leaves you. “I cannot believe that guy.” You look at your best friend who only holds an apologetic look. “Can’t believe I have to deal with his shit even ‘till now.”

“I know.” She bites on the inside of her cheek. Before she could say more, her phone vibrated in her hand. As she reads out the notification, she groans. “Fuck, I need to go. I just remembered I have a project to work on.” She stores her phone away. “Where are you headed?”

“Uhm, I’m gonna wait for Hyunjae,” you say as your shoulders sag down. As you hear your best friend hum, you spot a teasing smile resting on her lips and you roll your eyes. “You’ve got to stop that.”

“Stop what? I’m not saying anything,” Yunjin attempts to defend herself but you both know she’s far from innocent.

You shake your head, a giggle leaving you. “Whatever, go! I’ll see you later.” You’re left staring at the cast list as she takes her leave. Busy hands fiddle with your phone, clicking one of the contacts marked as a favorite. You bring it close to your ear, waiting for him to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hyunjae-ah, where are you?”

“I’m on the way to where the cast is posted!” His hurried reply signals that he’s running to where you are. “I just heard from Joshua that it was released early.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, I heard the same from Yunjin. I’ll wait for you.”

“No need to wait too long.” You look behind you to see your best friend standing a few meters away. His hair is tousled up from all the running but still falls back perfectly in place. His hand combs through it, a grin resting on his lips at the sight of you, as he jogs towards you.

“Hey, where’d you come from?”

His arm finds its spot around your shoulders, bringing you close to his side. All while he is transfixed on the castling list, your gaze rests on your best friend. “I just had Ethics—oh my god, YOU GOT JULIET!” He spins to face you and brings you into a hug.

“Yeah,” your arms find their place around his shoulders as his limbs rest on your waist. “But, you know, you got Paris.” When you lean back, you only see a grin on his lips.

“Yeah, but who cares? I mean, my sweetheart got the part she wanted.” There he goes again, using the pet name that started as a quip but still sticks years later. You roll your eyes at his remark, but before you can say any more, he beats you to it. “Don’t think about backing out now.”

A sigh leaves you. “But,” you glance at the name of your (and Hyunjae’s) enemy, “I’ve gone through enough of him in high school. Can’t I live my uni life in peace?” You pout at your best friend, and he chuckles at your behavior, cheeks dusted with hues of red.

“Do you really want to give him the satisfaction of making you quit such a big role?” Would it be that bad to say yes? “C’mon, playing Juliet is a huge deal! You’re destined to play that role! And, I mean, you wouldn’t want to disappoint Sir Key and Kevin…”

God, it did hurt you to agree with Hyunjae. You didn’t want to waste the time and effort Sir Key and Kevin Moon, the teacher adviser and the director, must’ve put into crafting the cast list. But to go through months with Sangyeon, all for a university play? It’s not that you were pursuing a career in theater, or acting for that matter.

But would you from a few years back—a high schooler who treated every theater production as if it were a Broadway one—say the same thing? Is this the role you wanted to take on as an actor, one willing to step down over a nuisance?

With one sigh, Hyunjae knew what your answer was. He smiles before dragging you away from the piece of paper that seems to only bring downpour. “I don’t know if this will make you feel better but I heard from Changmin that there’ll be a house party. Maybe we can drink the sour mouths away.”

“Drink the what away?” You chuckle at his choice of words. “Hyunjae, I’m so glad you aren’t a scriptwriter.”

He scoffs at your insult, “But you get what I mean.”

“I do not.”

He rolls his eyes, playfully shoving you which causes you to giggle. “Let’s just drink the bitterness away. We could be meeting our other castmates and the prod team, maybe getting to know them more.”

You cannot help but hum as you ponder over your schedule for the rest of the week. “I don’t know. I have this one homework for Mr. Won’s class that I sure as hell don’t know how to answer. I mean, I don’t even know what the instructions are!”

“Ah, just trust me! I’ll help you out with that. Just,” he stops you two in the middle of the hallway. There were barely any students for they scrambled off to their respective classrooms or looked for lunch. He pouts at you, his hands now holding yours as his fingers draw circles on the back of your dorsals. “Go with me, will you?”

It doesn’t take you a moment for you to make up your mind; you’re sure the trade-offs that come from that party won’t save your ass from Physics or Sangyeon.

But when Hyunjae leans in, his lips ghosting your ear, your breath hitches. “I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart.” You’re nothing but a puddle (and a sheep). So once he leans back, you nod. At the sight of your confirmation, he smiles. “Okay, let’s go have lunch.”

You can only hope that Hyunjae (or any of your friends, really) understood annular momentum, or whatever it’s called.

(You truly are a lost cause in Physics, and you’ll be blaming it on Sangyeon. Every inconvenience is caused by him, anyway.)

For anyone who thinks theater kids couldn’t party, they’re wrong (partially, only). Sure, there were the occasional show tunes that played from Kevin’s playlist, and a certain someone named Ju Haknyeon who belts out of the blue, but no one complained.

With only a few drinks in, you and Hyunjae are buzzed. And although you both agreed on using this party as an opportunity to get to know the other members, you still found yourselves sticking together—shoulders bumped, hands laced, or arms wrapped around each other.

Now, you two along with Yunjin and Younghoon were hanging out in the kitchen, not away from where the crowd was but quiet enough to have your own conversations.

“You know, I finally got to talk to Jihyo,” Yunjin says before taking a sip from her drink.

Younghoon tilts his head. “Park Jihyo? The one playing Lady Capulet?” A hum of confirmation leaves her as she continues to drink. “Did you see her audition for The Baker’s Wife for Into The Woods?”

Yunjin nods, letting the rim of her cup leave her lips and smacking Younghoon’s arm repeatedly. “I was able to sit in for the auditions because I signed up for prod team instead. Girl, I can’t believe she didn’t get the part.”

“Yeah, didn’t Rei get the part instead?” Hyunjae asks to which Younghoon nods.

“Didn’t she audition for Little Red Riding Hood?”

Yunjin shrugs at your question. “I’m not sure, but I do see her playing that role versus the wife.” She sets her cup on the kitchen counter behind her. “Don’t get me wrong, though. They’re both outstanding actors but I would’ve changed the casting. Some of them would’ve played different roles that suited them vocally and acting-wise.”

“Well,” you sigh. “You know that some directors are just batshit blind.” Hyunjae cannot help but elbow you, earning a whine from you as he chuckles. “I’m serious, though! Like, look at Hyunjae! He’s the perfect example.”

“Ouch. Thanks for reminding me of my tragic history.”

You roll your eyes at Hyunjae’s words, the playful tone evident in his words. “I’m just saying, some directors don’t know what they’re doing.”

In no way did you have anything against Kevin. You’re certain that he knew what he was doing; it didn’t sit right that Hyunjae lost a huge role to the same prick who couldn’t get off his high horse. But there is no point in contesting because your best friend wouldn’t allow you. All that mattered to him was that you got the role.

“Yes, but I trust Kevin. Honestly, I’m just glad I still landed a role,” Hyunjae shrugs as he sips.

Younghoon hums along. “Exactly! I heard Hyeongjun didn’t even make it to ensemble.”

A groan rips out of your throat, knowing that the two made a good point. “Yeah, I trust him, too. I just,” you shake your head at the thought of your enemy. “I’m just sick of Sangyeon.”

At the mention of the devil’s name, you feel an arm wrap around your shoulders, your shoulder hitting against something firm. And when your eyes drift to the stranger, you’re met with the bane of your existence.

“Talking about me, sweetheart?”

To hear Sangyeon use that pet name had your stomach churning. You plant your hand against his chest in an attempt to push him away, but you feel his pecs through the white, cotton material, and you quickly retract it. Instead, you shrug his arm off.

“What are you doing here?”

His gaze rests on the boy beside you, shooting him a smile. “Shouldn’t we use this time to build our chemistry?” To others, Sangyeon may have genuine enthusiasm to get to know his scene partner, but you and Hyunjae knew that his grin held nothing but arrogance.

You move closer to Hyunjae and his hand finds its spot on your waist. Sangyeon’s eyes flicker to your best friend’s hand but he still holds the same smile.

“Sangyeon, it’s just acting. I can easily fake chemistry,” you shake your head, trying to scoot even further towards Hyunjae. There’s barely any space between you two. “Unless your supposed great ass can’t fake it. Did all those years spent in theater not teach you anything?”

There’s no way to fake chemistry; everyone knows that, from actors to audiences. But when you’re face-to-face with Sangyeon, you would take any opportunity to get back at him for what he’s done—not only to Hyunjae but to you, as well.

Despite your words, Sangyeon’s expression never wavers. Stoic Sangyeon—he always knew how to get on your nerves. “Isn’t the point of this party to get to know each other?” You roll your eyes, looking away to give your eyes a break from the nuisance.

But when you feel his breath fanning against your left cheek, you’re afraid to say anything. The distance between you two right in front of your friends makes it feel like it’s forbidden, especially when Hyunjae has his arm wrapped around you.

“Especially with our kissing scenes.”

A chill runs down your spine. You know what he’s doing—embarrassing you in front of your high school friends just to rile you up, and rubbing it into Hyunjae that he got the lead role once more. Whatever place Sangyeon first held in your life didn’t matter anymore; he’s dug himself deeper into the pits of hell that you never knew of until this moment.

You want to push Sangyeon off and drag Hyunjae out of the house, alone together and far away from him, but a booming voice breaks the tension.

“Wow! It’s nice to see our Romeo and Juliet getting to know each other,” Kevin comes into the kitchen with a grin and gains everyone’s attention.

Under the gaze of your director, you don’t think twice about what you do. “Yeah!” Your arm quickly links with Sangyeon’s, and you notice Sangyeon freezes up. It’s out of character for you to do such; you can only imagine the expressions of your friends. “Just old friends catching up, right?” When you look at Sangyeon, you notice a flicker of confusion in his eyes, but your forced smile is enough for him to get the message.

“Yeah,” he smiles at Kevin. “I’m just glad that my Juliet is someone I know.” My Juliet? Oh, you’re going to be sick.

Kevin is amused with the newfound information. “I didn’t know you two were friends! I never see you two interacting.”

Perhaps your animosity towards Sangyeon is obvious but you weren’t going to allow the feud to get in the way of the role of a lifetime—Kevin can never know about the water that has gotten stained with red.

“Oh, we all went to the same high school.”

“Same theater club, too,” Sangyeon chimes in.

Kevin looks at everyone with amazement. “Oh, that’s so cool! From the same high school to the same university. I’m sure you’re all happy to see each other in the theater scene again.” Everyone but one, really.

“I’m looking forward to seeing everyone work in the production,” his eyes rested on you and Sangyeon once more. “Especially the chemistry between you two.”

When Kevin takes his leave, you all bid him farewell. And once he was an earshot away, you shrugged Sangyeon off. “See? I can fake chemistry.” Your glare finally causes a small reaction from him—the startled expression on his face makes you reign victorious. “Clearly, you need to work on that.”

If Sangyeon wants to retort, you don’t allow him to do so as you leave the kitchen with Hyunjae’s hand in yours.

A few hours have passed since Sangyeon decided to come and dampen Hyunjae’s and your moods. Thankfully, you haven’t seen him since but it could be because you were too drunk to care, or maybe you were too distracted by the boy whose lap you sit on.

“Hey, why don’t we get out of here?” Your best friend’s lips graze your ear. His hands hold onto your hip, his thumbs drawing patterns on the exposed skin that’s starting to peek. You giggle as you shake your head, earning a chuckle from him. “Why not?”

His whines have you dizzy (or it’s probably the effects of the alcohol), but you do your best to answer. “Hyunjae, we’re supposed to be getting to know our castmates better. Isn’t that why you asked me to go with you?” As you looked at everyone in the living room, you know for sure there was no chance to talk to them anymore for they were too intoxicated to remember tonight’s events.

When he presses his lips to your jawline, you cannot help but close your eyes at the sensation. “Yeah, but we aren’t even talking to anyone. Why don’t we just go back to your place and just, I don’t know, make out?” He whispers the last words as if it were taboo.

This is what you and Hyunjae were—friends who couldn’t help but enter territories that blur the line between platonic and romantic. Since you two first entered university, you and Hyunjae couldn’t seem to keep your hands to themselves, always finding their places on each other. It started in such a blur—at a party just like this, both intoxicated—but both of you couldn’t help but keep it going. You still limited your relationship to occasional make-out sessions and snuggling, but you never went past such stages with him. The two of you didn’t mind the unclear boundaries, anyway.

“I don’t know,” you finally look at your best friend. His eyes seem to glimmer, and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “I haven’t gotten to talk to Daniel.”

His eyebrows shoot up in amusement. “Kang Daniel? The one playing Lord Capulet?” As you hum, he chuckles. “I can’t believe you’re thinking of another man while you’re on my lap, sweetheart.” There he goes again, using that pet name.

“What do you mean? I just want to get to know my castmates better.” The teasing tone is evident. You crave the attention—the possession—Hyunjae seems to have for you.

And when his nose brushes against yours, all thoughts are knocked out of you. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to know anyone else, not even their names. You already have me.”

For a moment, you almost think this is it—the two of you will enter domains never traversed and there will be no way to go back from it, but you don’t mind, not with him, anyway.

His eyes flicker to your lips, and you hold your breath. “Don’t do that,” he chuckles. “You need to catch your breath before I take it away.”

Before he can do anything, you feel the couch move as someone takes a seat beside him. You’re ready to put some distance between the two of you, but when your eyes land on the stranger, you realize that the universe is not by your side or Hyunjae’s.

Hyunjae scoffs and his hand cradles your face, an attempt to get your attention back, but your blood boils over the sight of the same guy who always ruins everything.

“I didn’t know Juliet gets so touchy with Paris.” Sangyeon’s comment has you rolling your eyes. Clearly, you’re too distracted by him, and Hyunjae can’t do anything but give up. Instead, your best friend just settles on holding you close to him while your gaze remains on the devil.

“What’s with you? We don’t have to talk to each other unless it’s for rehearsals.” A frustrated sigh leaves you. “Don’t you know that all we have to do is act?”

When all you’re met with is the same cocky smile he flashed Hyunjae back at the kitchen, you shake your head. You’re about to glance at your best friend, prepared to tell him that you two should leave and retreat to your place.

That is until you feel someone’s fingers hold onto your chin, redirecting your gaze to Sangyeon. Now, you’re face-to-face with Sangyeon, the distance between you two is even smaller in comparison to when you were in the kitchen.

The air is knocked out of your lungs, your eyes looking right at Sangyeon’s. Whatever you looked like had him smirking—you were defenseless against him for once.

“Can’t handle it?” The question is meant to provoke you, have your blood boil so that you scream profanities at him. You’re sure he’s pertaining to all the little stunts he’s been doing; teasing you to get a reaction from you, acting like you two are friends, and making comments about your acting experience.

But for a second, you almost think he’s talking about himself—could you handle him not only on the show dates but also be surrounded by him for the upcoming two months?

And once more, your brain turns into mush. The lights become streaks of different colors, and they do their job of making Sangyeon look different—still the same cocky motherfucker, but now, you want a taste.

Your mouth goes dry and you’re scared to exhale, but Sangyeon only smiles before letting his hand leave your chin. It’s clear he’s happy by your soundless reaction. When he stands up from the couch, he glances at Hyunjae, and his smile turns almost sinister.

You would’ve said something like you always do, but you’re unable to form a coherent sentence. You’re intoxicated; the alcohol’s still in your system, but Sangyeon’s gaze shows that the drinks you’ve had are nothing compared to him.

With that, he takes his leave. Whatever moment you and Hyunjae shared is now lost—all thanks to Sangyeon, once again.

if you enjoyed reading this, please do reblog with feedback!

#deoboyznet #dbn: holiday party #kflixnet #bjnet #k-labels #works of moni #the boyz #the boyz x reader #lee sangyeon #lee hyunjae #lee jaehyun #lee sangyeon x reader #lee hyunjae x reader #lee jaehyun x reader

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darling--angst-archived · 11 months

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Chuya, Tecchuo, proposing to their S/O

Pt. 1 How the BSD men would propose to their shy s/o.

Just shitpost

First time doing hcs sorry if this suck

Warning: Explicit Language

Characters: Reader, Tecchuo, Chuya, unnamed criminal, Dazai(extra).

Masterlist

Suihiro Tecchuo

I could write an entire 5000 word essay on how sweet this man is. Umm totally off topic..

This man would probably just do a house date.

He knows you're shy and doesn't like crowdy places so he'd resort to a small picnic in a park.

He's soo cute like this man would call in sick with the hunting dogs even if he isn't just to buy you a ring.

Maybe he'd even go ask someone he captured for advice like the conversation would be like this:

"are you married?"

"uhh yes..?"

"any tips?"

"just get her favorite things, affordable ring that she'll like, her favorite flower bouquet and propose to a place she likes"

"k.. Thanks"

"good luck young man!"

With that the criminal would go to prison knowing that he helped the one who arrested him get married, ohh how happy that man is.

He likes to shower you with kisses afterwards.

He would go on his way to skip missions just to get you a gift or something.

What if you reject him? Simple you won't! But if you do...

"Love will you marry me?" He would shyly ask you

"Tecchuo.. I.. I'm sorry but I'm not ready yet.." you would say very awkward. He would raise up from kneeling, hug you and say:

"It's fine.. really.. I'm just too early" he said guilty

"It's not your fault! Don't feel guilty Tecchuo" you would slightly slap his shoulder annoyed on why he would blame himself for your decision.

That is if you refuse, but if you say yes...

He was kneeling there waiting for your response to the four unexpected words he said. You started to tear up, tears forming on the corner of your eyes. When he notices it he would stand up and panic.

"Baby.. I'm so sorry, did I do something worng?? If your not ready its fine..." He would say panicking on why you're crying.

"No.. its just that.. I'm happy" with your words you managed to surprise him.

"Yes.." you would mutter

"Hmm?" He said, still trying to comfort you.

"I would marry you!" You shouted from his embrace making him shock. He would smile, hug you then put the ring on your finger.

"Oh thank God.. I love you so much" he would say hugging you.

"Thank you.." you would mutter

"huh? For what?"

"for choosing me to marry you"

"aww"

Your insecurities came in and you wondered

"Would you regret proposing to me-?" Your questions was cut off when you felt his lips against yours.

"No I'd never regret it baby" he said smiling at you.

Both of you shared a brisk kiss and smiled.

Chuuya Nakahara

He would plan something so fucking romantic.

Would probably rent an entire restaurant because your shy.

If you're into a particular outing spot, he would rent it to propose.

Hell this man is soo rich! He may buy the entire place for you.

Would probably go to the jewelry store and buy their most expensive ring, necklace, bracelet, most likely the whole set of jewelry he think you'll like.

Would shower you with his money afterwards if you said yes who the fuck would reject such a fine ass rich man

He'll spoil you and be so happy

He will not cry but just imagine:

"Doll.. Will you marry me?" He asks you with a diamond ring on his hand, kneeling. You blushed and muttered a small "yes" in which he didn't hear.

"Yes!" You screamed starting to tear up. When he heard the word yes, he put the diamond ring in your finger and quickly stood up to hug you. This man was feeling so accomplished by what he did, that until...

"mmhf" you sniffled. When he heard you sniffled he halted and left your embrace to look at you. When he sees your eyes tearing up he would just panic.

"Huhhh???? Did I do something wrong doll?" He will softly ask you.

"No.. *sniffle* I'm just *sniffle* happy" you said.

"You shouldn't cry because I won't want to see you cry everyday when we would get married because I would make you the happiest woman in the world" he proudly said hugging you again.

Would probably ask someone like Koyou or Hirotsu for advice.

If you refuse his proposal it's probably going to be the same as Tecchuo.

If he doesn't know on what to do maybe he'd even ask a certain suicidal womanizing bastard.

Chuuya walked through the dungeons of the Port Mafia to see the traitor who was once his partner.

"I'm quite surprised you got caught, you suicidal maniac"

"Oh it's you"

"Why you!!"

"Oii! Shitty Dazai! Remember that you're the prisoner here"

"Yeah whatever"

"..."

"How do you propose to a woman?" He would mutter so quietly

"Hmm? I can't here you from down there.?" He would teasingly say. Chuuya grabbed his hair and shouted

"How do I get Y/n to marry me!" He didn't even realized what he said until Dazai started to chuckle

"My my.. Chuuya is in love!" He teased

"Why you!" He was cut off when Dazai actually helped him on how to propose with a few teases making the Ginger annoyed.

This is what would've happened if reader didn't die in my other fanfic ("You promised..")

#bungou stray dogs #bsd fanfics #bsd fluff #bsd chūya #chuuya x reader #chuya nakahara #nakahara chūya #bsd nakahara chuuya #bsd x reader #bsd tecchou #tecchou x reader #tecchou fluff

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petalsthings · 2 months

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Ok but I’ll never understand why so many ppl portray Jack as the head over heels pining mess and Ralph as the one who doesn’t care and just rolls his eyes like HUHHH

Ralph was throughout the entire book fond of Jack, the idea of Jack hating him genuinely shocked him and made him upset (and Jack was already pretty off the rails at that point). When Jack left the group Ralph was so distraught, trying to convince himself Jack would come back eventually. Even at the very end he still wanted to save him (and everyone else).

Ralph admires Jack, he likes him and enjoys his company, making it hurt more when Jack starts hating him. (like that “why do you hate me?” line)

They both wanted the others approval, but it was Jack who towards the end started to see Ralph as just an obstacle for full control. Which is why it surprises me that so many people think of Ralph as being the one who is indifferent and dismissive

#lord of the flies #lotf #lotf fandom #lotf ralph #lotf jack #lotf jalph #jalph #idk if I’m explaining this right #little disheveled #so bare with me lol #sorry don’t want this to come off as mean #pls feel free to interpret them however u like :)

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vagabond-umlaut · 7 months

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Fall Versus Foliage

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader; Geto Suguru Makes His Debut; Takes Place Between Star Plasma Vessel Incident & Death Of Haibara; Fluff, Very Little Angst, Humor & Drama!! Contains Spoilers. Canon-Compliant. [Geto's Already Spiralling Here.] [I Hate Canon.]

Oneshot From Series: One Day, Three Autumns

Your Best Friend is Gojo. Gojo's Best Friend is Geto. Your Mortal Enemy is Geto.

"Oi, you six-eyed cellar spider! Where the fuck you hidin', huh?"

Wrenching the shoji door open, you charge onto the backyard of your home, wading through the tall grasses overcrowding your so precious lawn. Somewhere from behind, someone calls your name in an overly frantic tone— paying them no attention, you proceed forwards, wrath coursing through your arteries and veins– colouring your vision with a furious shade of red.

Honestly speaking, this isn't how you envisioned your weekend going. You were under the impression you might be able to get some indeed very much needed rest these two days— maybe with some fun too in the mix, given how you invited your friends to this tucked away home you've in the countryside.

Then again, you never envisioned someone gobbling your Neapolitan ice cream– the entirety of it– did you, now?

"Hey, Gojo," you holler once again, eyes roaming in search of the bane of your existence, when you suddenly stop at the sight before, only to increase the speed of your attack within the next instant. "Oi, Satoru!" you yell, clenching then relaxing your fists as you march towards that messy mop of white hair partly obscured by the tree trunk its owner's leaning against, "You gone deaf or— huhhh? What the fuck is this??"

Were anyone from your family there right now, you'd have received an earful for such a horrendously unladylike language— you shove every thought of your stick-in-the-mud family members out your mind into the lake nearby, opting to focus on the masterpiece before instead.

Though you're much too unsure, which of them two the masterpiece is.

Must it be the striking painting staring back at you, the woman's eyes carrying fondness yet mystery in their depths while her lips curve in a visibly coy smile, sweet yet cryptic?

Or must it be the striking painter snoozing beside his work, tiny quiet snores leaving him while his head lolls to the side, those black shades sitting tad precariously on his nose?

A muted exhale leaving, you force your shoulders to slump down and relax, your hands reaching forwards to carefully pluck his glasses off– only to still and tense up, registering the presence of another person.

Very intolerable. Very obnoxious. Another. Person.

Suguru offers you an easy smile from where he's propped up against the tree beside Satoru's, an open book lying in his lap. You manage a barely civil smile in response, gritting out, "Why the hell are you here, huh? Never took you to be my 'Toru's watch dog... Senpai."

Even if the boy does detect the disrespect in the term of address you throw in as an after-thought, he makes no comment on it– wearing a smile as placid as before, and replying, "Never took these lawns to be out of bounds for me either— but here are we. Thinking things only to be proved wrong later on. Funny little coin—"

"I'm rather good at reading people," you cut him off, eyes narrowed in a glare as your teeth clack against each other in your attempts to rein in your bubbling irritation and rising volume: Satoru's asleep; he must not be disturbed at any and all costs– "and I think Ieiri-senpai prefers your company to Iori-senpai's when she's smoking. Why don't you go, have a smoke with her, yeah? They're in the other wing of the house."

Or, perhaps, in the same wing of the house adjoining these very same gardens— but you don't add that. With the fewest words spoken, you want Suguru to be gone the quickest, the farthest from Satoru— who seems too delicate, too vulnerable, too breakable in such a state— an uncomfortable shiver slithering down your spine on noticing that tiny scar at the back of his neck, you drag your attention away from him— to the second boy watching you: visibly delighted; tangibly intrigued.

You will your annoyance to be doused: your best friend's asleep; 'Toru Must Not Be Disturbed— his best friend leisurely flips over to another page, though his eyes drift to the new page only for a moment before returning to study you— albeit without the sliver of interest his hawk-like gaze always carries when settling on a hapless girl doomed to be his prey for the night— you observe this with an inward sigh of relief.

Be it for you or for Satoru, you never quite like those who try to come between the two of you friends. You suppose, the white-haired boy is not very fond of such folks either. That pathetic boy who tried to give you an equally pathetic rose in your third grade, still carries remnants of the thrashing your friend had given him on hearing your complaint – you know, the white-haired boy is not very fond of such folks either.

Suguru chuckles softly. "You..." he pauses for a little, seemingly in the search for the right words, then resumes, "You're not good in dealing with feelings, are you? Especially not where it concerns people close to you, right?"

It takes you two seconds before the meaning behind his words spring to life. You clench your fists to keep yourself absolutely rooted there, vision growing red yet again.

"Are you trying to tell me what I think you're trying to tell me, Geto?" you query quietly, nails digging deep crescents into the skin of your palms. Suguru's face morphs into an unrushed grin, smug and ugly. You reckon one of your nail's finally broken the skin of your left palm.

The Curse Manipulator shrugs. "That depends on what—"

"Being mean to you isn't me not knowing how to handle my emotions or some shallow shit like that," you cut him off, unclenching your fists and letting the air brush over the red-hot indents in your palm, "Being mean to you is me wanting to be; and you better not be expecting me to change that anytime soon, 'cause I won't–" A barely-heard mumble on kikufuku makes you pause. Throwing a sideways glance at the boy mumbling, you return your focus to the other boy, eyes fixed in a hard stare.

"I hate you and I'm so not the type to be polite with someone, only to bitch about them later on, behind their back— so I'm gonna continue hating you to your face— and I don't care what you might have to say on this, so you better save your breath, yeah?"

A moment of tense silence follows your question, broken not too long after by the black-haired boy's incredulous statement, "I never meant that to refer to myself. I was speaking on your feelings for–" He grows silent suddenly, eyes darting to Satoru for a brief second, before they return to you. Cheshire cat grin back in every bit of its dastardly glory.

"Feelings for someone close to you translates to your hatred for me– hm?" he says, throwing a momentary glance at Satoru yet again, grin unbudged, "You are one very weird girl, you know that?"

"Oh, yeah?" you snap back without missing a beat, "You might not be knowing this— but anger and hatred are equally valid feelings as any other— and regarding the matter of you being someone close to me?" you let out something between a scoff and a sigh, shaking your head, "You're one of the five other faces I see from my age group, at school everyday. Of-fucking-course, you're someone close to me. I'll be kind of upset if— Have you ever been told, your grin is low-key terrifying?"

Your genuine question earns one very hearty laugh from Suguru– it grows tempered soon enough, however, when you pointedly glance at your sleeping friend then shoot the other boy a glare. Sharp. Mad.

The latter smiles at you, shaking his head. "You're really one weird girl —perhaps the weirdest of them all..." he says, wiping a tear away from his eye, shoulders still shaking from his subdued laughter– "However, I can't help but wonder..."

You shift your weight to one foot, the other tapping an impatient tune on the ground as you stuff your hands into your jacket pockets. Smile dimming to grow a touch of honest curiosity, he asks, "You say, anger and hatred are valid emotions, but don't you feel they might burn you from the inside out, consume you and every bit of your life, leave your world in smoke and ash— don't you feel ashamed when you're feeling those? Helpless– miserable when your anger and hatred tears at your insides? Teasing you, taunting you— cursing you?"

It takes you few moments to grasp the entirety of Suguru's question; and when you do, you can't help but feel sorry for him— Though you know better than to offer something as trash as sympathy to another.

Not when it cannot retrieve the lost, resurrect the dead.

Not when it cannot remove the scars– seen and hidden.

Not when it cannot... let your 'Toru sleep without reliving the sight of millions of maggots swarming over him, weak, dying, dying, weak— YouNeedToMakeGetoLeaveNOW—

You fake a yawn, flexing and extending your legs, one at a time.

"Jogging, fencing, complaining, being mean, napping— these are my usual go-to's whenever I feel too overwhelmed by negative emotions," you answer, features made into one of nonchalance then add, almost as a mumbled after-thought, "or when any emotion confuses me too, to be honest. Kicking the wall or the source of your distress helps me too, yeah."

"So... violence is always an option, hm?"

A chuckle moves to fall past your lips— you push it back– misgivings standing where humor should be– when you catch the way Suguru's eyes gleam in the shade granted by the drifting clouds— though that gleam doesn't seem to be gleaming to you. One might accuse you to be unfairly prejudiced against him— but you know you aren't letting a smidgen of those biases tint your vision now.

You know that gleam in his eyes is anything but funny. Anything but light. Anything but good—

The Curse Manipulator rises from his slouch on the ground, sending you another of his easy smiles, though it no longer feels as harmless as it used to, earlier. Your feet move a few steps towards Satoru— in response to your instinct to shield the boy or your desire to be within his comforting aura— you're not very sure, which.

Suguru's smile grows, gaze flitting from his classmate to you. "Thank you for inviting us here. All of us really needed this break after... what happened last year," he says, volume dropping to a whisper, "Thanks a bunch, kid."

You just nod your head in response, fighting the urge to rush to your friend's side— the other boy lets out a muted chuckle, feet moving a couple steps away from you, before he stops and points at the piece of drawing lying before Satoru, held down by a stone paperweight. It is the one you gifted him, many years back at a beach, you recollect.

A tad too tickled statement startles you back to the present.

"Your 'Toru's made his 'sweetness' the subject of that portrait there... think, he fancies her or something?"

Not sparing said portrait a glance, you frown up at him. "But it seems to be of an older woman, Geto. Are you trying to suggest Satoru sees me as someone older than her age?"

"Maybe," he shrugs. You observe him for a moment before looking at the fast asleep boy again— dread and dejection filling every small bit of your body, slow yet so steady—

Satoru sees you as someone much older than your age. Satoru never tells you, he'll be drawing your portrait— but he has told that bastard best friend of his, everything. Said bastard best friend keeps being a hindrance, putting a spoke in your and Satoru's eons old friendship— not to mention those way too disturbing vibes he was giving off some time back— Bloody hell, Satoru also ate your ice cream up, didn't he?

"You seem to be overwhelmed with emotions, kid," the black-haired boy comments, still standing in the same place as he was, watching you attentively with hints of a smirk, "What are you planning to do?"

Honestly? You don't know. You're mad. You want Suguru to leave you two by yourselves for some time. But, you don't know how to— okay, no, wait–

Kicking something never not solves your issues... Besides, all of your friends– yeah, even this bang-haired asshole, keep themselves away whenever you and Satoru fight, so...

Stamping down the glee blooming in your heart, you throw Suguru a very unimpressed glance. "What can one ever expect me to do, eh?"

And that's the last thing you utter, before you stomp right up to your best friend, and ignoring the tiny flicker of regret, deliver a sharp and well-aimed kick to his leg— eliciting a yelp from your poor 'Toru– but, at the same time, kicking your oh-so-splendid plan of protecting your friendship, off as well.

[But, in case this plan fails? Something, the sweet half of yourself is a bit too sure, will happen— Shut the fuck up, you goody-two-shoes!!—

Simple!! You'll buy Satoru three– no, five– tubs of that Neapolitan ice cream. Offer to complete his homework, plus massage his shoulders as an apology for hitting him. And pout at him, trembling lips and big teary eyes and all that jazz, and—

Gojo Satoru will be best friends with his sweetness in no time, again!]

I do not own the characters used. Divider is by @cafekitsune. Please do not plagiarize or translate or repost this. Hope you enjoyed reading this! 😊

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Masterlist

Satoru calls his future S/O sweetness, but trust me when I say— Suguru's S/O will be the sweetest of them all. Stay tuned for the next oneshot in this series, my loves!!! 🥰

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