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#I just know he would. I will be accepting to arguments at this time
lushaletta · 2 days
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love and its lethal consequences / tom riddle
pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader
content: muggleborn!reader, dark!tom, mild swearing, violence
summary: tom grapples between his dark desires and his unlikely affection for you. it’s deadly.
a/n: part 3 to this lil series :> pls lmk if u guys r enjoying so far!! idk how long i want this to be but we shall see where it goes
read the previous parts: one two
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⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.゚ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
Tom has decided. And once Tom decides something, nothing will get in his way.
You are to be his.
The murder would be the easiest part of all. Twice, now, he’s done it. First with that disgusting, grumbling Myrtle and second with his nasty father he can’t even be bothered to think about.
Third time is always the charm. He has it all figured out.
“Tommy!” you beam, following the daily routine. You slide over a treacle tart. “You liked these ones last time.”
He accepts the dessert wordlessly. He’s too deep in thought. You grin.
A few more moments of silence pass and you begin to be irritated by the lack of noise. You have to fill the air up somehow. “Have I told you about Murph yet?”
He’s almost sickened by the name itself. So much so that he can’t stomach the lovely tart your mother has made for him. You’re on a nickname basis now? “You have not.”
You haven’t told him anything about this boy, but he already knows everything. He won’t have to worry about this foul beast for much longer, so he’ll tolerate the giddiness in your eyes for now.
“We’ve just gone on a date. I think it went well, you know? He’s sweet. Opens the door for me, matches pace. That type of thing.”
Tom could do that too if that’s what you really wanted. “How wonderful,” he deadpans.
You’d be a fool not to notice the way his eye twitched when you said the word “date” or the poorly hidden sarcasm he laced in his speech.
“I think our next one is this Wednesday,” you continue.
He’s absolutely fucking repulsed. If he didn’t know any better, he’d march on over to that moron’s room and take care of it himself. But there’s a plan, procedure to be followed. And Tom is nothing if not methodical.
“I can’t believe it! The both of us have dates this week. What even are our lives now?” Camilla cheers, leaning back in her seat.
“I don’t think Tom is very happy about mine.”
She raises a brow. “That’s because Murphy isn’t pure. I’m telling you, Riddle’s lot is psychotic.”
“Okay, I’m not a fan of them either, but Tom knows I’m not pure. He’s been perfectly pleasant.”
“He hardly speaks!” she retorts.
You roll your eyes and urge her to continue reading her book. She complies. Camilla’s never been very argumentative.
As she settles in the pages, all entranced by the words, you lean back in your chair. It is a strange twist of fate that you’re now friends with Tom, but despite Camilla’s warnings, you can’t get yourself to leave. It’s a comfortable trap.
“Hello,” Tom says from behind you as you swing your feet on the railings.
You don’t skip a beat. “Hi!”
Tom knows by now that he can’t surprise you.
The echoing chambers of Hogwarts are bathed in soft moonlight, and no one else is around. Tom is usually by himself at this time. You only steal each other’s afternoons.
“You know,” you muse, breaking the comfortable quiet that settled between you. “You’re very important to me.”
Tom clears his throat. He’s never really been important to anyone. He swallows. “Likewise.”
He’s avoiding your gaze. You think it’s cute. His lips quirk into a faint smile, a rare glint of amusement dancing in his dark eyes, but it’s gone as soon as it comes.
Suddenly, you study his face, trying to unravel the mysteries hidden within. He’s more withdrawn recently. Even quieter, if that’s possible. You suppose it has something to do with Murph but you never can be too sure when it comes to him.
“You’re staring,” he says.
“I like the view.” He sighs.
Tom is not a good person. Far from it. Your friend realises it but you don’t. You’re a glimmer of hope in the darkness that threatens to consume him, that’s already consumed him. You’re both refuge from his despair and a constant reminder. He finds solace in your company and he hates it but now he has no choice. He can’t bring himself to kill you. He knows he never will and so it has to be this way.
It will hurt you, undoubtedly. It will make him more terrible than he already is.
Time is creeping up on him. You’re growing closer with that wretched Ravenclaw and the longer he waits, the more you will be affected.
“Murphy Atthill.”
He turns around at the call of his name and can’t help but feel uneasy. Tom’s presence tends to do that. “Riddle? What can I do for you?” he asks politely. He isn’t very good at masking his anxiety.
Tom casts the Killing Curse and he feels the unmistakable split of his soul as he recites haunting Latin incantations. He knows there’s no going back.
A chilling sense of finality looms over him and yet it weighs light on his conscience. All for the better, this is. In fact, it’s a twisted sense of satisfaction that he feels knowing that the deed is done. He knows he’s crossed a line with you from which there is no return,
But Murphy’s eyes lifeless are much prettier that way.
taglist for this series!! @mariamyousef702 @enidths @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @girlogies @unwrittenletter @helalokithor
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clangenrising · 4 hours
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Month 14 - Newleaf
Now that the nausea was behind her, Mystique was starting to enjoy pregnancy again. It wasn’t as nice as the first time, obviously, what with her being stranded in the wild territories away from her Folk, but there were perks. For one, she got her pick of the prey and plenty of it. Whenever Russetfrond would get after her for being “gluttonous”, she would remind him she was eating for three and that would shut down any kind of argument. She couldn’t tell for sure, but it seemed like he was putting in extra hunting trips just for her which was nice. 
As well, she had been able to use her growing stomach as an excuse to stop running combat drills with the Clan cats. Despite their attempts to keep it from her, she had inevitably learned about their plans to murder Razor and she wasn’t going to have any part in that. True, he wasn’t a good cat, she had come to accept that, but that didn’t mean they had to kill him. Still, Scorch in particular seemed insistent that it was the only option and she had a powerful hold over Goldenstar, or so it seemed. 
Mystique often turned her options over in her head while she sunbathed, trying to think of an alternative solution, one where no one else died and she got to go home as soon as possible. She always came up short. When it came down to it, she was just one cat. What could she do? So she tried not to think about it and focused on getting plenty of food and rest. 
Today, she was resting on top of the warriors’ den in a warm beam of sunlight, idly watching the goings on. Oddstripe and Aldertail were sharing tongues in the shade. Scorch finished talking with Goldenstar in hushed voices then joined Pantherhaze, Slatepaw, and Fogpaw as they headed out of camp. The little white tabby jumped in excitement, making Mystique laugh. It was strange to see a cat that looked so much like Ghost moving with that kind of energy instead of stomping around like an old curmudgeon. 
The new kitten, Lake, padded out of the nursery and stretched with a big yawn. Aldertail looked up and waved her over with a smile. 
Oddstripe grinned too and called, “Afternoon, Lake! How are you feeling?”
“Lots better!” Lake purred, padding over to them. “Those weird plants you gave me helped lots!” She was looking better too. Her ribs were slightly less visible under her fur, her coat glossier. Mystique had never seen a kitten look so poorly before. It was reassuring to see her improving so quickly. 
“Aren’t they something?” Aldertail chuckled. “Are you hungry?” 
“Oh, yeah,” nodded Lake. “Starving!” 
“I’ll grab you something,” said Aldertail, jumping to her paws. 
“Gee, thanks miss!” the kitten said as if it were a rare wonder. Oddstripe smiled and pulled the kitten close to give her a few licks around the ears. She giggled and sat up tall to let him. Aldertail quickly returned with a bird from the prey pile and the two adults sat back and watched as the kitten tucked into it voraciously. Mystique caught them glancing at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking. It made her skin crawl, just a little, which she felt guilty for. 
She stood, hoping to get away for a bit and put them out of mind. She noticed Aldertail stiffening when she did, eyes darting over like Mystique was about to lunge for her, claws bared. She groaned under her breath and started out into the grass. 
“Uh, Mystique, hold up,” called Sparrowpaw who was on guard duty. “Where are you going?” She’d nearly forgotten he was there. 
“For a walk,” she shrugged, “I just want to be… away from here.” 
“Well, I’ll come with you,” he said. It was a statement of fact, not an offer. She sighed. He was like a smaller, more pleasant Russetfrond. 
“Fine, whatever,” she sighed. “I’m going to the river.” 
“Alright,” Sparrowpaw said. “That’s okay.” She lashed her tail. 
“I know,” she growled. “I wasn’t asking.” Back home, no one treated her this way. No one ever told her what she was and wasn’t allowed to do. Sure, Razor had jobs for her every now and then but those were things that needed to be done, not arbitrary restrictions on her free time. She was sick of it. 
Sparrowpaw blinked in surprise but said nothing - a victory for her. She made her way briskly towards the river, not worrying about her long strides out pacing her smaller companion. Her back was starting to ache and all she could think about was dunking herself in some cool, fresh water. 
When they reached the river, she slipped into the water without hesitation, sighing in relief at the sense of weightlessness. She rolled over to make sure all of her fur was doused thoroughly then threw her head back to get the water out of her eyes as she came up for air. She hummed pleasantly and looked over to see her chaperone hovering near the bank. 
“Come on in,” she said, jerking her head in invitation. “The water’s great.” 
“I’m alright,” said Sparrowpaw, settling down. “You really enjoy getting wet?”
“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes. “It’s literally the best. I don’t know why so many cats are scared of it.” 
“It’s not… scary,” he said, “just really unpleasant.” 
“Weirdo!” Mystique called, easing herself down into the shallows to let the water flow over her. 
“Maybe,” Sparrowpaw laughed awkwardly. They sat there in silence for a good, long while. Mystique closed her eyes and tilted her face to the sun and just let herself enjoy the moment. She tried not to think about home or her Folk or her brother. 
“Can I ask you a question?” said Sparrowpaw at one point. 
“Sure,” she shrugged. 
“Have you considered maybe staying after the kittens are born?” he asked. “Like, joining the Clan full time?”
“No,” Mystique said flatly. “No, I’m going back home the first chance I get.” 
“Why?” asked Sparrowpaw. 
“Uh, ‘cause it sucks out here?” she said. “You don’t know any better cause this is all you’ve ever seen, but being Exalted is a million times better than living out in the dirt and the heat. I get free food any time I want it. I have a soft bed and lots of great toys and it's always the perfect temperature inside. My Folk give me tons of attention and pets. Have you ever been pet before? It's the best.” She glanced over her shoulder at Sparrowpaw to find him looking unconvinced. 
“I haven’t,” he said. “But don’t you think you would enjoy the freedom of living out here? There's satisfaction in hunting for your food and supporting your Clan.” He seemed so earnest, it was almost sad.
“No thanks,” Mystique snorted. “Not interested.” 
He frowned. “I mean, if you stayed, maybe you and Russetfrond could stay together. I’m sure that you could make up if -”
“Look, kid,” she rolled over to look at him head on. “I don’t really care about trying to ‘make up’ with Bee Face Mc Pouterson.” Sparrowpaw’s ears pressed back against his head. “He was a bit of fun, nothing more than that. Honestly, he’s not even really my type, I was just bored.”
“O-oh,” Sparrowpaw swallowed. He looked pale. Mystique sighed. Maybe she had been too hard on the poor boy. Or maybe she’d traumatized him with her casual language. Clearly, these wild cats didn’t know how sex worked.
“What I mean to say is, it’s fine,” she said, swiping a wet paw over her face to cool it off. “I’ll have the kits and then go home. He’s happy, I’m happy, win-win.” 
“Right,” Sparrowpaw said. “I guess we’ll just have to hope things go well.” 
Mystique squinted. “You mean with the plan to kill my brother.” 
Sparrowpaw paled further. “Uh, yeah, I guess. I thought you didn’t know about that.” 
“I’m not dumb kid,” she said, “plus the camp is small. Sound travels.”
“Right…” He looked down at his paws, tail curling around them. “I’m sorry. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.” 
“Why does it?” Mystique sat up a little taller. “Why can’t we just, like, talk to him?” 
“Because we tried that,” Sparrowpaw said, looking up at her. “He killed Smokyrose.” 
Mystique’s voice caught in her throat in a frustrated lump. “That was… That was an extreme circumstance,” she said. “It wouldn’t happen again.” 
“You have to know that’s not true, right?” Sparrowpaw said earnestly. “I mean, he’s your brother. How can you not see what he’s like?” 
“You don’t know him!” snapped Mystique, slapping one paw loudly against the surface of the water. Sparrowpaw flinched at the noise and she briefly felt guilty but she shoved the feeling down. “He’s my brother. He’s not a monster.” 
“Sorry,” Sparrowpaw swallowed. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” 
Mystique sighed, a deep frown creasing her face. He almost sounded like Aldertail. It made the Shadow Truth wriggle deep in her gut, worming its way closer to her conscious mind. She dunked her head under the water to try and get away from the feeling but even the cold shock didn’t help much. She sighed, stood, and shook out her pelt, spattering the sand with droplets. 
“I think I’m done,” she grumbled and headed back to camp to sulk.
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Letting Go | Choi Jongho
-> Pairing: Choi Jongho x Reader
-> Request: From @03jyh23
-> Synopsis: Sometimes it's better to just let go of something rather than to hold on and cause more hurt. Using prompts - “I’m so tired of fighting, and I know you are too."  and "That wasn't what I was expecting." 
-> Warnings: Pure Angst. Break-up. Arguing. Hurt. Heartache. I hope this was angsty enough.
-> Word Count: 540
-> Requests: Open.
-> A/N: I tried using all the prompts given to me but there was one I couldn't work into it no matter how hard I tried.
ATEEZ Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines
©️ 2024 woojoongstreasure - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead.
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Likes, comments & reblogs are welcomed and appreciated, thank you. 
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“I’m so tired of fighting, and I know you are too,” Y/N let out a tired sigh, her voice filled with exhaustion and defeat. She couldn't bear the constant fighting anymore, and she knows Jongho feels the same way. He stands in front of her, holding an umbrella to shield them from the rain, but even his presence couldn't alleviate the heaviness in the air. Avoiding his gaze, she turns her head away from him. "Maybe we're better off without each other. Let's end it here, go our separate ways so we never have to fight again, because fighting with you hurts too much." 
With a defeated expression mirroring Y/N's, Jongho understood her words all too well. Perhaps, they had reached a point where it was better for them to part ways. The frequent arguments had created a growing divide between them, causing them to spend more time apart. They threw themselves into their work, using it as a distraction to avoid confronting the issues that were slowly eroding their relationship of almost two years. Both had once believed they could overcome any obstacle, but now their conversations about the future had become their downfall. 
Jongho had always been clear about his desire for marriage and starting a family when they first got together. Y/N had initially shared the same aspirations, but as time went on, her fears took hold, and she began making excuses. She avoided any discussions about their future, shutting herself off from Jongho instead of opening to him and making him question if it was him that was the problem. 
Eventually he nods his head, agreeing with her despite his heart screaming at him to refuse and try again once more. He knows that would only lead to another argument and they’ll only end up right back where they are now. "You're right. Maybe it's better to end our relationship now, even though it hurts, than to let it get worse." 
"That wasn't what I was expecting," she mumbles, making the mistake of speaking her thoughts out loud. She’d anticipated another argument, a desperate plea from Jongho to reconsider, but instead, he had calmly accepted her decision.  
"What did you expect?" he questions, his irritation and hurt over the situation now evident in his voice and expression. "That I would plead with you to reconsider? To, once again, beg you to let me in and that we could work it out if you did? Why bother when you'll continue to shut me out and we’ll just end up arguing again and again and again." 
His words sting, hitting her with a wave of guilt. She never intended to shut him out, but the weight of her past become too heavy to bear. She convinced herself that walking away was the only way to protect him and herself from further heartache. As she looked into his eyes, she saw a mix of hurt and disappointment. It was a painful reminder of the love they once shared, now overshadowed by the walls they had built between them. 
"I’m sorry," she apologizes.  
"I know," he replies softly. "I’m sorry too." 
With that, Y/N turns and walks away, tears streaming down her cheeks, mixing with the rain that’s steadily falling.  
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TAGGING: @staytiny2000 - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @rainydayteacups
@green-agent - @tinyelfperson – @hollxe1 – @deltamoon666 - @skz1-4-3
@pinkies-things - @everythingboutkpop
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The reason I think Alastor should be in the wrong(or at least mostly in the wrong) in his and Vox's falling out is that I don't think their relationship would be worth exploring as deeply as it sounds like it will be next season if Vox was the primary reason they started fighting, because it would do NOTHING for Alastor's arc.
Like- okay, Alastor's arc is very clearly going to be about learning that trusting people is Okay and not a sign of weakness, right? He's literally the only character in the show that is very clearly about the power of friendship who refuses to accept any sort of help, like even the VILLAINS are constantly hyping eachother up! If they fell apart because of something Vox did, and their relationship is going to be super important next season, wouldn't that not really do anything for Alastor's arc? Unless Vox pulling some weird shit is the ROOT CAUSE of Alastor's trust issues, but, given what we know about his past and how his ego seems to be the biggest contributor to said issues, I don't think it is. Alastor would HAVE to have contributed SIGNIFICANTLY to their falling out if their relationship is going to mean anything to his arc, because otherwise it just feels more like a weird aside then anything else? Like "oh yeah we used to be friends but then he did some weird shit and now we're not friends anymore". It adds nothing. There's nothing emotional for Alastor to confront in this scenario.
Which makes for a more interesting story, the relationship between the mc and someone from their past who, while they miss, isn't the kind of person they want to be around anymore so they don't really feel bad about cutting them off who ALSO doesn't pose any real Active Threat to the mc, or the mcs relationship with someone who they respected a lot but cut off because they felt the two of them were getting too close and we can't have THAT, now can we? It's the second one. It's the second one because the second one HAS HIGHER STAKES! The first one makes for a good one episode plotline, but for a season long arc? Takes where Vox is in the wrong actually make VOX a more interesting character to follow then Alastor, because that makes HIM the only one with an actual emotional stake in the conflict. But this isn't Vox's story. It's Alastor's story. Alastor is the main character. Which means, for their relationship to provide anything of value to the plot, Alastor needs to have emotional stakes in the situation too. The best villains are the ones that force your characters to grow and become better people(unless you're doing a silly little monster of the week type of show but THAT'S NOT WHAT HAZBIN IS-), and the only way Vox being the main antagonist next season is gonna cause any kind of growth is if Alastor is being forced to reconcile with his past.
Anyways uh, yeah that's it. I could do a tangent about how their relationship lowkey parallels Fizz & Blitzø(a comparison I made in this post but didn't actually go into depth on bcuz it wasn't relevant to the post beyond supporting my argument + didn't have much backing at the time), but I do NOT have the brain power to go in-depth comparing and contrasting that stuff rn, bcuz, despite the similarities, whatever the fuck Vox & Al have going on seems to be a LOT more Complicated and Sad then an accident and some dad-induced miscommunication. So I'm just gonna leave it at that :)
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akookminsupporter · 2 days
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What if this travel show debunks whole Jikook ? Imagine Jimin saying 'it's been long since we slept together in same room' 'it's been long since I heard his snoring' or something? If they are a couple they'll be sleeping together right ? Why would Jimin say that ? Well, it's kinda debunked already because Jimin said 'I got used to your snoring because we spent time together few days before aka their travel show shoot'. He only got used to it now because he had to sleep with JK for a schedule ? Also they are acting like Jimin bumping JK in sleep is a funny moment as if it never happened before. RM asked a question like that too 'did you elbowed him this time' as the last time it happened was when they together for NYC schedule.
Anon, I have several questions in response to your rather silly message. Why does it bother you that people like me think that perhaps there's something more than just friendship between Jimin and Jungkook? Why does it bother you to acknowledge, understand, accept that Jimin and Jungkook have always been close, probably the closest in the group? Unless you're a tkkr, it doesn't make much sense, or is it simply homophobia? Though I suppose it's not that simple. Or is it the parasocial relationship you have with one of them? What's the reason?
You clearly aren't a true fan because a real fan wouldn't be desperate to confirm that two members of their favorite group aren't or weren't close. That they had problems, etc. But you know what's funniest about all this? Your argument falls apart with the simple fact that Jimin and Jungkook enlisted together and not only that, but they applied to a program that guarantees they'll be together throughout their military service. That doesn't prove they're a couple, but it does confirm how close they are and that their relationship is different. And I know that that fact, that reality, eats away at you and at everyone who thinks like you. And I also know that you're terrified of seeing or knowing what they filmed before their military service. People like you, cowards like you who hide behind a screen and the option of anonymity, are embarrassing because it's obvious how empty and sad your lives are and that the only thing that makes you feel... something is being a horrible person.
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haitani-maki · 9 hours
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*⋆.ೃ࿔⋆.I sʜᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ
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18+ MDNI
Yotsurugi Taira x Fem!Reader
TW: friends to lovers, cheating mentions(ex bf), mentions of alcohol, pussy licking, fingering, squirting, overstimulation
English is not my first language
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It was already 2 am, you had already lost count of how much you had drunk. Trying to forget the horrible argument you had hours ago with your now ex-boyfriend after discovering a cheating.
Wondering what you did to deserve such shit, inside a bar where there was no one friendly. You didn't care, sitting next to the bartender and you didn't intend to leave sober.
Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel someone sit down next to you
The person doesn't say anything, just asks for a drink.
All the effect of the alcohol you were feeling went away, a familiar voice makes you look to the side
It had been a few years since you two had seen each other, Taira Yotsurugi was your friend who you had a crush on during your teenage years. Unfortunately, you had to stay away from him because your parents didn't accept you dating the son of a Yakuza. But now you're an adult, there's no one to stop you.
He hasn't changed much. Taira stood a little taller, his lazy cat eyes that you still remembered perfectly, his blue and black hair now a little longer, he looked a little colder than before and definitely hot.
Taira hadn't seen you there, he seemed distracted
"Taira?" - You call him
"Y/n..." - He whispered your name in surprise - "Y/n, how long has it been!"
You spent a few hours talking about the events since you last saw each other, remembering some things from the past and smiling about silly things.
He looks at you as you continue talking, Taira missed you. He never told you about his feelings, he knew how strict your parents were. Taira thought it would be better this way, he thought it would hurt less...
But damn, how he missed you. Those were dark days for him, not being able to hear your sweet voice, not being able to receive your warm hugs, your beautiful smile whenever you saw him.
You stop for a few seconds, blushing a little when you notice Taira looking at you.
"Why are you looking at me like that, Taira?"
"Just thinking" - He says simplistic
"Thinking about?"
"About everything. About that time, I shouldn't have walked away from you and I shouldn't have let you go."
"Taira, I'm so-" - He interrupts you
"I know what your parents were like, y/n. I also know there wasn't much we could do." - Taira held your hand - "But I really missed you, I won't let you leave again."
And now here you are at your boyfriend's house, or better said, with your boyfriend between your legs
Lewd sounds coming from your mouth and your wet pussy as Taira's two fingers scissor you.
Your thighs trembling as Taira sucks hard on your clit, you came on his tongue.
Taira removes his tongue from your pussy, licking her lips, slowing down the movement of his fingers
"Shit, such a good pussy. I need one more, princess."
Before you could say anything, Taira's tongue flicked through your pussy again, making you scream from the overstimulation.
His fingers returning to a frantic rhythm, touching that spot that makes you see stars
Your thighs shaking around him again, your back arching and your mouth opening in a perfect "O"
You feel that knot in your stomach tightening, suddenly breaking apart into a gushing squirt into Taira's mouth
"Shit princess. I wonder how many times I can make you squirt in my mouth."
It was a long night with Taira saying "Just one more." leaving you an exhausted mess.
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©Reblogs are welcome, do not copy or translate
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lost-my-sanity · 1 day
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Morning after
Short little Kidd imagine
I woke up with a splitting headache and something heavy pressed against my ribs. As I cracked my eyes open things suddenly became clear. I was tangled up in my captain’s sheets, his metal arm wrapped around me, his face pressed into the pillow, wild hair all over the place. As he felt me stir his eye blinked open, a surprisingly soft look on his face.
“How ya feel? Are you sore?” He questioned, voice scratchy from hours of unuse.
“I… I’m a little sore if I’m being honest.. but overall not too bad” I admitted.
He smiled and snuggled me closer, kissing me on the lips.
“Ya know your mine now right? After a night like that there’s no way I’m giving you up to anyone else, I’ll fucking kill anyone that tries” he says with a wide grin and a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
“I can live with that” I say with a soft laugh.
“You know… I never really did that before but I’m glad it was with you” he confessed, his sincerity and honesty taking me by surprise.
“You never did that before, Kidd?” I question, surprise written all over my face.
His face changed to a defensive look but his eyes still remained open.
“Well.. yeah I mean I could have, but no one seemed worthy enough ya know?” He stared boldly.
My heart fluttered at what he just said.
“You…you mean I was worthy enough of being your first time?” I ask, running my fingers along his jawline.
“Well… yeah… you're hot, smart, funny and accept me for who I am.. you know me better than anyone else… except for maybe Killer” he stated, brushing my hair out of my face.
“Thank you for that…I’m glad that you trust me… and I promise I won’t betray that trust, no matter what” I proclaimed, putting my own heart out on the line now.
“Good, cause ya mine, and I ain’t sharing no matter what. Everyone’s gonna know that you belong to Captain Kidd! And when I become the king of the pirates you’ll stand by my side.” Eustass stated, with no room for an argument.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind that” I confess, interlocking his fingers with my own.
Suddenly a loud banging on the door stole both of our attention.
“Hey captain! Ya done losing your v-card now or what?
“ We wanna go explore this new city!”
“Yeah put some fucking clothes on and come ransack this city with us”
Several voices all shouted at once.
My face turned white, all the color draining from it. Kidd looked pissed off beyond belief. He gave me a kiss to the cheek before he got out of bed in nothing but his boxers.
“Hey assholes, fuck you. I’m with my lady now, fuck off and go bother someone else, or I’ll skin you all alive. If you wanna go out so bad, take Killer or something…. I’m busy!” He shouted as he opened the door, I could see Heat, Wire, and Quincy all trying not to laugh and make the captain more mad.
I couldn’t help but smile at Kidd’s words, it was official then, I was his lady. Eustass slammed the door in their faces and walked back over, crawling into bed next to me, pulling me close to his chest and resting his chin on my head.
“We're not leaving this room until we absolutely have to today.” He told me, pressing another kiss into my hairline.
I knew that from this moment on, things would be different on the Victoria Punk, and I was excited to see where it would lead, but for now, I’m going to savor seeing this side of Eustass “captain” Kidd and relish being in his arms.
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backslashdelta · 2 months
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@gleesource's 500 followers celebration day 2: Kurt Hummel
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kriscommitscrimes · 11 months
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seeing more ppl referring to kris with he/him pronouns instead of they/them ones this pride month and i dont liek it. i will play through the whole game and ger everything screenshot of their CLOSEST FRIENDS AND FAMILY MEMBERS using EXCLUSIVELY they/them pronouns for them if necessary
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bayofalgecirascranes · 2 months
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The Muse has barreled back into my head with a scene from an AU where Kuzon of Shijuichi ends up with Zuko on the Wanyi and during the scene where Zhao is like "I'm placing your troops under my command" Kuzon is like "I'm afraid that won't be possible, Admiral." And Zhao does his patented Leer and says "And what could you possibly mean by that?" and Kuzon does his patented Rock Spike Through The Throat and says "I imagine you'll find it quite difficult to take command of his Highness' crew once there's no longer a 'you' who can take command".
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bumblingbabooshka · 2 years
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Teen Rebel Outcasts Tuvok & B’Elanna
#the terrible thing I realized is that if they were both teens Tuvok would have a completely unrequited and unacted upon lil cool-girl crush#since he seems to like competent soft butch gals#which was awful to realize but I have to accept v_v teen cringe BUT more importantly they'd fuck shit up together as pals#B'Elanna: I hate my mom / Tuvok: I hate my dad (they both gasp in delight)#B'Elanna teaches him klingon cuss words which he uses poorly#and Tuvok shows B'Elanna cool secret spots to hang out#there's ZERO thought put into WHY they are both teens at the same time it's just what's happening rn in these images#I think they'd actually probably get into a lot of bickering arguments but ah well that's the rebel teen outcast life babey#B'Elanna art#Tuvok art#B'Elanna is wearing human style clothes as rebellion against her mom but she doesn't really know how to style them#they are going to smoke some of Tuvok's dad's medical/spiritual herbs to get high#and it's gonna be a BAD time but again...such is the rebel outcast life#also I think it'd be hilarious if Jara had a crush on B'Elanna just to really knock Tuvok on his ass (sorry guy I love you)#Tuvok: The sky is so beautiful...you know who else is beautiful? y-#Jara: B'Elanna~??#(Tuvok turns monochrome and cracks like a marble statue)#Tuvok#B'Elanna#teen Tuvok#teen B'Elanna#st voyager#st voyager art#B'Elanna's hair looks like that bc she cut it in the bathroom with blunt scissors and refused to get it touched up#I noticed Klingons usually have long hair so I think cutting it short would be rebellious - as well as straightening it#Voyager au where they're all teenagers and for some reason all live on the same starbase or something idk who cares#what's important are the shenanigans#bea art tag
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torgawl · 2 years
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i think venti is the "sorry he asked for no pickles" person in xiaoven
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theragethatisdesire · 10 months
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scary dog privilege - best friend!eren x reader one-shot, 18+!!
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hellooooo i have had this in my wips for like two entire months and i am giddy and ready to share it. this hopefully will just be a one-shot, but you guys know i love to create a universe for each of my erens so god only knows where we'll end up with this one. best friend eren appears to be my angstiest, broodiest one yet, and i love him lol. wanted to make some use of classic fanfic tropes, so here we get best friend eren and fake dating!! woohoo!!
beware: this is absolute, pure filth once you get into it lol
pairing: eren jaeger x afab reader
wc: 9.1k
DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.
CWs: smut, consensual hook-up, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, oral sex (fem!receiving), alcohol use, cussing, squirting, penetrative vaginal sex, swearing, use of names (baby, pretty baby, my girl), crying, multiple orgasms, eren being a menace per usual, jean's an asshole (i'm so sorry you guys know i love him but it had to happen)
have fun ;)
-
This is a terrible idea, and it had been from the start. You know it and so does he, but you had insisted. Now that you’ve made your bed, you have to lay in it, you suppose. You press your forehead to the cold, tinted window of Eren’s ridiculous muscle car, ignoring the vibrations from the rock music he’s blaring and the consistent fluttering in your stomach, and think back to your conversation earlier that week.
“Come on, Eren. It’s just one night!”
“And what about after? When you run into Sasha at the coffee place or Armin after work? Did we just suddenly ‘break up’?” Eren scoffs, pushing past you to grab a Red Bull out of the fridge. You collapse into one of the barstools in his kitchen, having prepared yourself to accept defeat from the moment you posed the question.
“I just can’t face him alone,” you sigh, “it’s only been four months and Sasha told me he’s hooked up with not one, not two, but three girls already. I haven’t even had a drunken makeout at the bar.”
“So? Just because Jean’s been whoring around doesn’t mean you have anything to prove.” Eren's tone is thoroughly unimpressed as he pops the tab to his energy drink.
“You’re my best friend. I just need one tiny favor.”
“Who would even believe us? It’s not like it’s a huge party- we know everyone going.”
You cock an eyebrow. “How many times have Annie and Mikasa tried to con us into a double date? Connie’s been teasing us for years, not to mention the waiter at lunch the other day–”
“Fine!”
“Fine?”
“Fine. I’ll be your date for one night. But all of the explaining is up to you. And,” Eren takes a sip, leveling a glare at you over the top of the can, “I’m going on the record as saying that this is a bad idea.”
He may be reckless, arrogant, and a bit of a brat, but if Eren Jaeger is one thing consistently, he was right. You chance a glance at your “date”. He’s in his typical uniform: black hoodie, black jeans, the little silver chain he never takes off, key swinging over his chest as he turns the car. He looks good, appealing even. If Jean dares to show up with a girl, she won’t consider you to have downgraded, that’s for sure.
You consider your own outfit, an anxious fist tightening in your stomach at the thought of seeing Jean for the first time as an ex. He would have hated it. Your nothing-to-the-imagination outfit is all thanks to Sasha.
You had clued Sasha in on the plan; you hoped having one more agent in on your secret would help sell the act. Sasha had gone all out, lending you an incredibly low-cut black top and some black leather pants that would have caused at least a twenty-minute argument with Jean. Had he not dumped you, you remind yourself bitterly. Sasha had insisted you borrow her all-black outfit to match Eren’s typical attire “just to be cute”. In hindsight, her enthusiasm about this whole situation should have been a red flag, but you’ve already gotten everything lined up, and it’s too late for regret.
It’s far too late for hindsight, too; you’re already ten minutes into receiving the official girlfriend treatment from Eren. He had worn you down on picking you up, opening the car door, the works. Hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled out a bouquet of roses at this point. You can hear his obnoxious tone now: Even if you’re my fake girlfriend, you’re getting the full package. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.
Eren parallel parks smoothly on Armin’s quiet street, unusually busy with the buzz of a house party and lined with your friends’ cars. It’s Connie’s birthday, but Armin always hosts. It’s an unspoken rule at this point; you aren’t sure why he keeps volunteering, especially after Sasha had projectile vomited all over his bathroom at the last get-together, but again, dig your own grave and lie in it. You and Armin are in the same boat there.
When the car switches off, Eren takes a moment to consider you, wrapping and unwrapping his long fingers around the steering wheel, a nervous tic he’s had since high school. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you sigh, reaching for the door handle. Before you can wrap your hand around it, Eren leans over and pinches you harshly on the thigh. “Ow!”
“I open the door, remember?” Eren says, visibly annoyed.
You roll your eyes at him.“Isn’t this a bit much?”
“You think I’m going to be caught dead letting my ‘girlfriend’ open her own door? I have a reputation to uphold.”
You decide to bite back a snippy comment about the many girls who cried over Eren in college and cross your arms over your chest, pouting instead. “Fine.”
If Eren can be dramatic, so can you.
As naturally as if he had done it a hundred times, Eren slings his arm over your shoulders on the walk up towards the door; the weight of it, both physically and mentally, is heavier than you’re willing to acknowledge. When you catch sight of Bertholdt, Reiner, and Annie peering through the window, a flutter of nerves erupts your stomach; you reach a hand up to play with Eren’s fingers, absentmindedly spinning one of his rings and trying to sell the look as best you can. “We better pull this off.”
“It’ll be fine, just follow my lead.” Eren pulls you closer, kissing your hairline. Goosebumps rise all over your body; not at the action itself, but how disturbingly easy the affection seems to come to him. As Eren knocks on Armin’s bright red door, you pack that thought away and shove it to the back of your mind to collect dust.
“Hi…guys?” Armin’s friendly smile upon opening the door falters in confusion as he takes you in, absorbing the sight of you two intertwined on his doorstep. Armin’s wide, blue eyes flick between the two of you, and you can see the gears churning in his head, trying to make sense of how awfully close you and Eren are. Pitting your fake relationship against Armin’s intellect is the perfect first test; a nervous sweat breaks out under your skimpy outfit.
“Sup, ‘min?” Eren smiles back, the very picture of nonchalance, extending his free hand to shake Armin’s shoulder.
“Come on in.” Armin, ever polite, turns to allow for plenty of room for Eren to pull you inside. He doesn’t outright ask why Eren’s holding you, but his eyes betray his suspicions. It seems like your plan, as terrible as it is, is working. One down, a dozen or so to go.
Never dropping his arm from around your shoulders, Eren steers you into the living room where one of Connie’s favorite bands is already blasting from the speakers. Annie and Mikasa are curled up together in Armin’s recliner, hands interlocked as usual; Sasha and Connie are positioned at Armin’s bar cart, violently shaking two cocktail shakers apiece; Reiner, Bertholdt, Marco, and Jean are on the couch, arguing over something sports-related. With a sinking stomach, you notice that there’s only one unoccupied seat left in the room.
“My two favorite lovebirds!” Sasha cries, abandoning her cocktail shakers and rushing over to give you a hug. Upon Sasha’s impact, Eren drops his arm and grabs your hand that’s closest to him as a substitute, never taking his hands off of you. His actions are pointed, purposeful; every pair of eyes in the room looks between the two of you in surprise. You can practically feel a hazel-tinted laser beam burning a hole into your forehead. “You guys are so late; honeymoon phase gotcha already?”
“Laying it on a little thick, Sash,” you whisper into Sasha’s ear, cheeks burning. To your chagrin, Eren only curls his mouth in response.
“What?” Connie frowns, still shaking his drinks. “How long has that been a thing?”
You pause, your heart nearly stopping. You should have made up a story, you realize, something to explain–
“Just a few weeks.” The still-strange weight of Eren’s arm around your shoulder returns, and his jade eyes rest on you, adoration beaming through his always-cool gaze. Against your will, butterflies start dancing in your stomach; apparently Eren’s quite the actor.
“Yeah,” you jump in, grateful for Eren’s lead, “we just wanted to feel it out before we told everyone, that’s all.”
“Sasha knew.” Mikasa raises a suspicious eyebrow. Annie smirks at the two of you, a knowing look on her face.
“It’s about time.” Marco appears from the kitchen with a huge bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and salsa in the other. “Good for you guys.”
You can’t help yourself, finally meeting Jean’s eyes. He’s openly scowling at you, which is to be expected; where Eren is a criminally smooth liar, Jean wears his heart on his sleeve. You recognize that face all too well: anger to mask heartbreak, the same face he wore when you used to fight. For the first time, it occurs to you how cruel this plan might be, how Jean might react to you moving on with a mutual friend. Guilt washes over you, cold and heavy.
“Thanks for giving me a heads-up before you moved in on my fucking girlfriend, Jaeger,” Jean snips, taking a long swallow of his beer.
The guilt drops away from you as quickly as your jaw; you’ve forgotten what a prick Jean can be. Eren has been slowly guiding you over to the singular remaining seat throughout the conversation, and after Jean’s comment, he tugs you down firmly onto his lap. He rubs a large palm over your thigh, a blatant gesture of ownership.
“Not your girlfriend anymore, Kirschstein.” You can hear the distinct note of pride ringing through his voice, hear the nasty look leveled at Jean without turning to face him. It’s been fifteen minutes of fake dating, car ride included, and you can already feel the friendship line blurring. Your head spins.
“Anyway,” Armin, ever the gracious host, interrupts, breaking the awkward tension that has settled over the room, “what bar does everyone want to head out to later? Connie gets the first pick, being the birthday boy.”
The conversation in the room picks back up into a familial bickering over the evening’s next destination. All of your friends have become accustomed to the occasional awkward moment over the years now that some of you have begun to couple up; Mikasa and Annie especially are notorious for bickering like an old married couple, no matter who’s around.
“I need a drink,” you murmur to Eren, moving to stand.
“Do you mind getting me one, babe? Don’t want to lose our seat.” Eren pecks you on the cheek, smiling up at you as if everything about your situation right now is normal, natural for him. Jean’s eyes follow you every step of the way, and your face burns.
Over the years you’ve been friends with him, it’s never been lost on you that Eren’s attractive, not after the dozens of women he ran through in his college years. Peeking over your shoulder now, however, feels like you’re seeing him for the first time, seeing him the way the world sees him. Heavy-set dark brows frame his bright eyes beautifully, his jaw’s grown sharp and severe, and his lips are soft and pouty, stretching into a wicked smirk with sharp canines. He had grown into a heartbreaker, and he’s your best friend and now fake boyfriend– you swat away your private admiration as soon as it comes, taking a deep breath to center yourself and rifling through the bar cart in a daze.
“Want me to make you one?” Sasha waves a bright red concoction under your nose. “Connie and I made them- it has three different types of liquor in it, and you can’t taste any of it!”
One sip of the tiny cocktail straw has your nose wrinkling in disgust. You’ve worked behind a bar since the day you turned twenty-one, and the drink Sasha’s offering you tastes like an overly-syruped nightmare. “Um…no, that’s okay Sash. I’ll probably just stick to beer.”
Connie sticks his tongue out at you. “Boring!”
Predictably, Sasha pouts. “Okay, but we’re definitely making you take a shot. We can chill it in the kitchen, want to help me get some ice?”
Holding up a bottle of tequila, she cocks her head toward the kitchen and wobbles her eyebrows madly. You almost laugh; anyone who can’t pick up on a hint from Sasha is walking around with earplugs and their eyes closed.
“Fine. Let me just grab Eren a beer, and I’ll meet you in there.”
“Ugh, couples,” Connie rolls his eyes, wandering over to fiddle with the dusty karaoke machine that Armin claims broke years ago. You’ve always been dubious as to the truth of that, but knowing your friends, you can’t blame him.
Opening the cooler, you smile to yourself; Armin remembered your favorite IPA from the brewery down the road and stocked the cooler accordingly, nestling a few Hazy Daze’s between Reiner and Bertholdt’s domestics. You pick your way through the haphazard seating arrangements back over to Eren, holding a cold Budweiser bottle towards him. He pauses in his conversation with Reiner, grabbing your hand that holds the beer and removing it from your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips, brushing them over in a light kiss. He looks you up and down lecherously as he does it, a dangerous curve to his lips.
You return a weak half-smile, doing your best to not appear outwardly shaken by Eren’s behavior and keep the what the fuck? thoughts from showing plainly on your face. Eren waves you off to the kitchen with a light pat on your bottom, innocent as ever.
“How’s it going?” Sasha asks, safe now in the privacy of the kitchen. Her face is already full-flush with excitement and that awful cocktail she was sipping.
“I mean, it seems like everyone’s buying it. Jean looks pissed, though.”
“What were you expecting? He’s always thought Eren had a thing for you.”
“Everyone thinks Eren has a thing for me,” you roll your eyes, “at least it’s working in my favor now.”
Sasha fixes you with a glare, wobbling slightly. “If you don’t think Eren actually has a thing for you, you must be blind. Deaf, too.”
“Sasha–”
“I mean, even if you hadn’t told me, I would have fallen for it. Is it not, like, weird for you guys? That it’s just natural for you two to–” Sasha burps, interrupting herself, and giggles. “Just makes ya think.”
“Sasha!” Connie calls from the living room. “Let’s do Eye of the Tiger first!”
“Woo!” Sasha shouts, abandoning you and running into the room to take part in the newly-revived karaoke festivities.
You stand alone in the kitchen, shell-shocked by Sasha’s observations. The truly irritating thing is that she’s entirely right. Not only do Eren’s little kisses here and there, the constant touching, even the pet names come naturally, it almost feels…nice. It’s as easy for you to receive his affection as it is for him to give it. You peek around the corner, grimacing at Sasha and Connie’s amplified wailing, just wanting to look at him. Really look at him.
Kicked back, beer in hand and jacket thrown over the back of his chair, Eren oozes charisma. Even doing nothing but holding a conversation with Mikasa, the room gravitates around him. Jean’s angry glare never leaves him; Armin has switched to drinking Budweiser, even though you know he hates it; Annie’s nodding along with whatever Eren’s saying; even Sasha and Connie are angling their performance around him, alternating between singing together and holding their microphones towards him, trying to elicit a reaction. He has this undeniable magnetic force, one that you aren’t exempt from.
You’d met him nearly a decade ago, in high school, and initially couldn’t stand him. His hair-trigger temper had hardly cooled with age, and his ego had gotten unthinkably larger, but you grew to find both of them charming– to a degree. One thing led to another, and before you knew it, Eren was the one cleaning you up and getting you drunk after every bad breakup, introducing you to all of your favorite sports teams and lending you jerseys for the games; hell, he even read that smutty fairy fantasy series you’d been obsessed with in college. Had the man you attempted Star Wars marathons with until you both fell asleep really looked like that the entire time?
He catches your stare, beckoning you over with one long, crooked finger. As his girlfriend for the night, you have to obey, even though you would much rather roll your eyes at the cliche.
“Missed you,” he mumbles as you sit back on his lap, breath hot against the shell of your ear.
“You too,” you respond accordingly, wrapping your arm lovingly around his shoulder. Eren’s eyes flit down to your cleavage, but knowing him, it’s impossible to discern if it’s part of the act, or Eren being himself.
His hands rest comfortably over the casing of your pants, one on your thigh and one on the small of your back, one thumb rubbing circles into your soft flesh. Reveling in the drag of his rings over your clothed body, you couldn’t help but wonder how they’d feel on your bare skin, on your throat, on your–
Surprising yourself at the dirty direction of your thoughts, you swallow your beer too quickly, coughing. Eren, who had coincidentally been taking a sip at the same time, laughs at you mid-sip, choking beside you and spraying beer out of his nose.
The entire room bursts into laughter; Eren regains his composure and joins in good-naturedly. You giggle along, relief coursing over your body. Sure, Eren might look a little extra handsome tonight and be a bit touchy because you asked him to, but he’s still Eren.
“They’re practically in sync already.” Hitch, Marco’s girlfriend who had apparently joined the party while Sasha and you were in the kitchen, rests her face on her hand dreamily.
“It’s a little freaky,” Annie observes with narrowed eyes, but the slight curve of her lip betrays her. Not only were they believing your little farce, but they were happy for you. That’s enough to make you flush a little, realizing how naturally everyone’s just accepted your fake relationship. Everyone but one person, at least.
Jean suddenly stands, ripping a beer from the cooler and storming into the kitchen. The laughter dies as quickly as it had come, everyone exchanging nervous looks.
“I’ll go talk to him,” Eren offers, nudging you off of his lap. You blanch.
“Eren, I don’t know if you should-”
“It’s fine,” Eren drops a soft peck on your forehead, walking away before you can stop him. You meet Mikasa’s eyes, wide and concerned. To everyone else, Eren’s walking calmly, not a hint of aggression in his gait. But you know him, know him well enough to catch the anger simmering in his eyes, quiet, but there.
Jean and Eren have always been friends, albeit reluctant ones at first, but too similar where it counted not to get along. That had abruptly come to a halt when you had fallen for Jean. At first Eren had been confused, but over time that confusion had melted into constant irritation. Jean and you were wrong for one another, you know that in hindsight, but at the time, you had chalked all the fighting up to a passionate relationship. The constant tears had driven Eren nearly to a breaking point; multiple times you had begged him not to bring his frustration to physical blows. And now, your fake-boyfriend slash best friend and ex-boyfriend with the two worst tempers out of everyone you know are “talking”. You bite down hard on the inside of your cheek to keep the worry in your chest.
“Are you alright?” The question comes from Armin, who’s placed a steadying hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry that Jean isn’t taking the news well.”
“There’s no news,” Mikasa says low enough for none of the others to hear over the music, now standing directly behind Armin.
A neat little cross appears between Armin’s eyebrows. “They’re-”
“Faking,” she interrupts Armin, “they aren’t dating.”
Armin stammers, trying to correct her and apologize to you for her at the same time, but you just sigh. “How’d you know?”
“One of you would have told me,” she shrugs, “or at least I’d like to think you would.”
“It’s just…I couldn’t bear to show up alone, not with Jean here and apparently sleeping around since the breakup.” You cross your arms over your chest, grabbing your own shoulders tightly. It’s your fault, you know it is, but you had only wanted to feel a little less pathetic, a little less heartbroken. Drama had been an unfortunate and unexpected side effect.
“Why would Eren agree to that? It seems silly,” Armin muses, noticing your glare and immediately turning bright red, “I- I don’t mean you’re silly, just, you shouldn’t-”
“You know.” Mikasa bumps him. The slightest hint of a smile plays on her face, a knowing look directed at you. You frown, trying to look confused through the pink rising to your face.
A loud crash from the kitchen catches all of your attention, saving you from an uncomfortable line of conversation but making your heart beat that much faster. Dashing to the kitchen door, the entire house party hot on your heels, your thundering heart sinks.
Eren has Jean pinned up against Armin’s cabinets, forearm tight against the other man’s neck. Jean’s still seething at Eren, raw ego washing against the cool anger blazing in Eren’s eyes.
“Need to learn how to watch your fucking mouth, Kirschstein–”
“Eren!” Your voice is surprisingly firm, given the nauseating mixture of embarrassment, confusion, and panic swirling in your stomach. “Let him go!”
“Do you want to tell her what you said, or should I?” Eren hisses, nudging into Jean further. Jean’s eyes dart to you, back to Eren, and for a fleeting moment, you have hope that maybe this all can be resolved peacefully. And then Jean makes a fatal mistake.
He spits directly in Eren’s face.
Just as Eren swings, Reiner collides with the two, just barely catching Eren by his forearm before he can make contact with Jean’s cheek. Bertholdt, as always, is Reiner’s shadow, grabbing Eren by the shoulders and wrenching him away from Jean. It takes Connie, Reiner, Marco, and Bertholdt to restrain both of them, Armin standing in the middle and shouting how ridiculous the fight is above the curses.
“It’s my fucking birthday, Jean, come on bro!” Connie growls, pinning Jean to the cabinets with his back.
“Jaeger- back off!” Reiner manages to pull him back a few inches, hardly able to contain Eren, who’s struggling furiously, in his massive arms. Jean finally relents, slouching into the multiple arms holding him back. After several seconds, Eren does the same, never taking his eyes off of Jean. Into the shocked silence, Armin bravely speaks first.
“Maybe we should leave,” he suggests awkwardly, “take the party elsewhere.”
You pity him, poor Armin and his hosting inclination. Eren finally turns to face you. The wrath laid bare in his eyes sends a chill over your body.
“We are,” he spits, sparing Jean one last threatening glance before storming over, grabbing you harshly by the wrist, and practically dragging you towards the door.
“Eren, wait–” you try to reason with him and dig your heels in, but it’s fruitless. Eren’s strong, stronger than you, and you don’t stand a chance stopping him now that his mind’s made up.
He doesn’t drop the act at the car, ripping your car door open, waiting impatiently for you to step into your seat, and slamming the door behind you. As soon as he turns the ignition, the same angry rock music you had listened to on the way over blasts from the speakers; Eren makes no move to turn it down and neither do you. After so many years together, his temper rarely scares you anymore; it’s more of a nuisance than anything when it flares. You stare out of the window, seething with anger, arms crossed and foot tapping.
Five minutes into the drive, you realize Eren isn’t taking you to your house, but to his. What he’s thinking, you can’t be sure, but you go ahead and start making your plans to give him an earful and call your Uber the moment you get there. You just can’t wrap your mind around why he would attack Jean and embarrass you like that– Eren may have been a hothead, but rarely did he let his temper escalate to that degree, especially against a friend.
Eren whips his car into the driveway, parking with such force you nearly knock your head against the headrest. You reach for your door handle, ready to throw it open, but Eren’s faster. He hits the child lock button and slams his own door behind him, storming around the car.
“The fucking child lock button?” You leap out of your seat once he’s opened your door, glaring up at him with your fists curled by your sides. “Is that what I am, Eren, a child?”
“Come inside.” Eren’s voice is low, dangerous. You’re too angry to indulge his temper.
“No,” you snap, “I’m going home.”
No sooner have you pulled your phone out to call an Uber than Eren snatches it from you, sliding it into his pocket. He repeats himself, more forceful this time. “Come inside.”
You stand rooted to the spot for a beat, so angry you aren’t sure what you want to do more: run home, punch him, or kick his precious car headlight in. Eren simply glares down his strong nose at you, face unreadable as ever, rage still glittering in his eyes.
“Come inside, please,” Eren repeats himself again through gritted teeth. You decide you’ll indulge him and go inside, hear him out, and then punch him. At least it’ll catch him off guard, and you’ll have a better chance of getting your shot in. Without another word, you stomp up the walkway to his house, into the house, and into the kitchen, shoving your shoes off. Stupid fucking kitchens, you think to yourself, kicking your bare foot against the base of his kitchen island. Immature, but the little burst of violence feels good.
Whether Eren’s house smells like him or Eren smells like his house you’ve never been able to decide. The distinct scent of him envelops you: a boyish, sharp smell, laced with a hint of the weed he kept in the living room. Ordinarily it’s a comforting smell, but tonight, it nearly makes you sick with irritation. Fighting with Eren is something you do rarely, but you know the both of you well enough to buckle down. Arguing with Eren means you have a long, nasty, and emotionally gutting night ahead of you. You’re more than ready, fists shaking by your side.
“What the hell was that, Eren?”
He doesn’t answer, swinging the fridge open and grabbing a beer. He twists the top, tossing it aside carelessly and taking a healthy swig, bun bouncing on the back of his head, making no move to acknowledge your presence.
“Answer me!” Your voice rattles the cabinets. “Yeah, was the fake dating a stupid idea? Sure, fine, it was stupid, but starting a fucking fight with Jean on poor Connie’s birthday–”
“You didn’t hear what he said,” Eren says simply, still chugging his beer and avoiding your gaze.
“What could he have said to make you do that? What was so awful that you had to–”
“It was about you.” Eren finally brings his eyes to yours, staring you down through the little hairs that have escaped his bun with such intensity that it nearly knocks you clean on your ass.
Your heart stutters. “You– what did he say?”
“Told me if I wanted to taste your ‘slutty pussy’ so bad, I could just smell his breath. S’why he spit in my face.” Eren’s fingers wrap and unwrap around the beer bottle anxiously.
Your mouth drops agape, tears immediately springing to your eyes. No, you set your resolve, praying your body cooperates. “He…he said that?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d been fucking him?” Eren spares you another scalding look. Your temper flares at his anger, one fire against another.
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Eren snaps, “this whole thing was your idea. What am I to you, just some toy you can dangle in front of your pussyboy ex boyfriend? How long have you been fucking him?”
“I haven’t been fucking him,” you hiss, “he lied because he was jealous. And you’re not some toy, you’re– you’re my best friend. I needed you.”
Eren freezes, eyeing you across the kitchen. His expression has changed, infinitesimally so, a pinch of the fury fading from his face but none of the heat. It strikes you that in the years you’ve known him, he’s never looked at you like this before, not once. “Say it again.”
“You’re my–”
“The other thing.”
“I needed you.”
“Again.”
“I needed– fuck, Eren, what is this? Some kind of game?”
He stalks toward you, silhouetted by the light behind him and looking sinful, closing you in. He’s forceful and shameless as he backs you into the counter, as quintessentially Eren as he can be. “Say it one more time.”
“I…needed you,” you indulge him, brain slowing down to pick up each little detail. His cologne– when did he start wearing cologne?– musky and thick in the air, one of his tattoos peeking above the collar of his shirt, the tangible sensation of emerald eyes dragging along every inch of you.
“I like the way you say that,” his tongue darts out, wetting his lips. You stare blatantly. His mouth is red, pouty, and full, bottom lip a little chapped from where he was chewing it in the car. “That you need me.”
Words are lost on you; even if you could gather something to say, it would probably get stuck in your throat the moment it materialized. His presence is choking you. He brings one of those massive hands up, cupping your jaw, running a thumb over your lip. His posture, looming over you, is demanding, almost hungry.
“Do you still?”
“Still?”
“Need me.”
You blink, eyes still watery. “How?”
“You’re a smart girl,” Eren murmurs, hot breath laced with beer fanning over your face, “you know. You’ve always known.”
You do know. When he ghosted a hand over your thighs at the bar, when you fell asleep on his chest watching a movie, the way he had kissed your head, nearly fought Jean, protected you at every twist and turn. You had kept it relegated to the recesses of your brain, slid a hand between your legs and allowed it to simmer to the surface, maybe for a moment, before pushing it back down. You had always known. He has you on the edge of a cliff, and with a thin gasp, you understand him now: he wants you to jump. And so do you.
“I still need you. Now.”
Something critical snaps in both of you. The countertop digs into your lower back, a beautiful, aching pain blooming up your spine to meet the sting of his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. He’s kissing you; this magnetic, maddening man is kissing you, hard. It’s all tongue and teeth, fingers wrapping in hair, hands exploring familiar places in a new way. Greedy, demanding sounds slip through his teeth as he paws at your clothes, squeezes your curves through the silken shirt Sasha had lent you.
“This shirt is ridiculous,” Eren pants into your mouth, “wish I wasn’t about to rip it off of you.”
A little whimper leaves your mouth at that, and your knees buckle. Eren catches you, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you up onto the kitchen counter; you use the extra height to wrap your legs around his hips. A groan from deep in Eren’s chest rumbles against your lips as he rolls his clothed cock insistently against you. The low, simmering heat in your stomach catches fire; he’s big, even through both of your pants, rubbing himself into where you need him most. A hand creeps up your neck, grabbing a fistful of hair and forcing you to look up at him. It hits you how large he is; six feet and some change of taut, corded muscle, bad intentions, temptation.
His voice is quiet and controlled, so close to your face that his nose moves against yours as he speaks. “I’m going to take you to my room. If that’s not okay with you, I need you to say it right now.”
You nod urgently, relishing the burn in your scalp where he holds your hair tight. “I want it- want you.”
Eren slides you off of the kitchen counter and holds you firmly around his waist, making a beeline for his room. You mouth at his neck, enjoying the little grunts he makes against your ear. You drop unceremoniously onto the bed, left to watch as he tears off his shirt.
Oh, and do you watch. It’s difficult to comprehend that your best friend is the man standing above you. You’ve seen him shirtless countless times, but not like this: chest heaving, covered in a thin sheen of sweat, muscles flexing as he reaches for your shirt, ripping it from you and tossing it away. Your eyes draw towards the defined v leading down beneath his jeans, and you wonder how it might taste under your tongue.
Your bra comes next, Eren moving down to take your lips in his again as he deals with the clasp. He pushes you onto your back, kissing down your neck, sneaking harsh bites in between the gentle presses of his lips.
“Careful, Eren– you’ll leave marks,” you gasp, pulling at his hair.
“Good,” Eren replies against your neck, emphasizing his point with another deep bite to your neck, “you wanted everyone to think I was your little boyfriend, didn’t you? Let them see.” 
Your panties grow damp and hot against your core at that; you have no other response than to choke out a stunted moan.
“Fuck, you have no idea,” he growls, traveling down, teeth scraping the top of your breast, “what you do to me. How long I’ve wanted you.”
Your mind falters, caught in the crosswires of Eren’s confession and the way you’re clutching his head to your breasts, fingers desperately threaded in his dark hair and pulling him as close as you could get him. His mouth is so hot it burns, even against your feverish skin. 
“Remember…” Eren muses, mouthing his way down your stomach, “remember college? When you’d wear those slutty little dresses out?”
“I remember,” you breathe, impatient and urging him towards your lower half.
“Used to come home from the bar and jerk myself off, thinking about this sweet little cunt,” Eren tears your pants down your legs, panties following, “could practically see it in those short ass dresses. I’d cum thinking about how you’d sound when I stuck my tongue in it.”
A lewd whine rips out of your throat before you can stop it. Eren’s pressing your thighs open now, and his words and the quick little swipes he’s making across your clit are making you dizzy.
“Fuck…” Eren trails off, eyes wide, “got such a pretty pussy. Just look at you.”
“Eren, please,” you’ve never been the begging type, but the bright green eyes peering up at you from where your legs are propped open by broad, strong shoulders take your sense away.
“I’ve got you,” he shushes you, grinning as he leans into your center. A thick stripe of a lick up the center elicits a groan from you both. “So fucking sweet. Knew you would be.”
Eren hooks his arms around your legs, dragging you down the bed to be flush with his face. Eren’s no amateur when it comes to women, you know that, but you had never dared to let yourself imagine what that might translate to in practice.
He licks little figure-eights around your clit, not quite hitting it; he’s teasing you, the antagonist that he is. You tremble under him, little gasps and whimpers puffing out of your lips. Eren smiles contentedly against your pussy, nose flush with your clit, nudging against it rhythmically as he licks through your folds, circling your entrance. You bring your hands down your body, grabbing a fistful of dark hair and pulling him closer to you; you don’t even know what you want, the singular word more ringing in your head like a church bell.
Eren chuckles. “You need something?”
“Stop fucking with me,” you breathe, inwardly cringing at the desperation in your voice, laid bare for him to see. You brace yourself, looking down to meet his eyes, and instantly regret it. The anger has faded entirely from his face, replaced by an unyielding hunger. A wet, wicked smile plays at his mouth; you can physically feel your cunt dripping just at the sight of him.
“You want me to stop fucking with you?”
“Please, Eren, I need you–”
“That’s all you had to say.”
And then, like he does with everything else in his life, Eren licks into you like his life depends on it, like he’s trying to drown himself in you. His tongue pushes in and out of your hole, swirling around your clit, and you can distantly hear the most obscene sounds you’ve ever heard slipping from your mouth. He’s so good, better than you’ve had in years; you throw your head back against the bedspread, hardly able to focus on breathing.
Just when you think it can’t get any more intense, Eren slides one long finger inside of you, curling it against a spongy spot in your walls that makes you see stars. He chuckles at the loud, long moan that you let out.
“My girl likes being full, doesn’t she?” He pumps his finger slowly, testing your limits. Your walls clutch down on him, begging.
“M-more,” you stutter, barely able to form a coherent word through your panting.
“What was that?” You can hear the shit-eating grin on his face.
“I need– fuck– I need more.”
“Magic word?”
“Please, Eren, fuck!”
“Good, good girl,” he coos, pushing another finger into you, “so sweet and needy for me, yeah?”
Your eyes fly open at the stretch, the fullness of his fingers moving inside you. His other hand comes up to push on your lower stomach; your head snaps up, and you frown at him, panicked.
“W-what are you– oh,” you hate yourself for it, but you can’t even speak as he applies pressure onto your abdomen. You feel strange; it’s just right and too much all at once. The familiar bubble of an impending orgasm swells in the pit of your stomach, but it’s more intense, wetter than you’ve ever felt it. 
“Close?”
“Mhm,” you force out through gritted teeth. Eren moves his elbow slightly, just enough to bear down on your hip bone where you’re pushing your hips up towards him unwittingly. “But it- it feels weird…I, I can’t–”
“Sh,” he murmurs, mouth back against your clit, “you can do it, just for me, I know you can. It’s going to feel so good, you’ll see.”
Your eyes roll back in your head as you teeter on the precipice, blood roaring in your ears. You want to, you need to–
“Cum all over my fucking face baby, give it to me.”
The band in you snaps, your eyes rolling back into your head. You can feel your cunt spasming around his fingers, pushing something out. Liquid sprays from you, all over Eren’s face, soaking the sheets beneath you. You can’t even hear the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth, too surprised at the gushing orgasm. It finally winds down, and once you gather the energy, you shove insistently at his hand still pumping in and out of your sensitive pussy.
“You have the messiest little cunt,” Eren chuckles at you, wiping his face and kissing his way back up to your gasping mouth, “knew you were a squirter.”
He lands a few gentle taps against your sore pussy, and you flinch. 
“I–I’ve never…” you take a shaky breath in between every word, “never done that before.”
Pride illuminates his face. “Really? I knew you could do it– just for me, right?”
You nod, sitting up on trembling elbows. “Your cock, I– I want it in my mouth. Please let me.”
You reach down to fumble with the button of his jeans, but Eren grabs your wrist, pulling your hand up to kiss it gently. “Next time. I’d never forgive myself if I busted before I got to fuck you.”
Too overwhelmed to answer, you simply nod again, sitting back as he shimmies his pants off. Once you catch sight of it, your mouth waters. He’s big, bigger than you thought, wide enough to where your fingers wouldn’t touch if you grabbed it, and long enough to make you gag. The thought goes straight between your legs, cunt still throbbing and clutching around nothing, and a rush of anticipation washes over you.
Eren flips you over onto your stomach, shoving a couple of pillows underneath your hips to prop your ass up. “Christ,” he exhales, landing a sharp smack to your ass.
“Please, Eren- oh!” You jump; Eren’s circling your asshole, using the mess you’ve already made as lube to pop the tip of his thumb in. “Eren…”
“You’d let me fuck you there, one day, I bet,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, you think. Your body tenses in response, the memory of your first glance at his cock fresh in your mind. Eren swears under his breath. “Maybe next time, then.”
You hear him spit, hear the slick sounds of him lathering himself up. You have a brief moment to think to yourself, with the last glimmering shreds of consciousness in your orgasm-dazed mind, that this is Eren. This is your best friend, pinning you to the bed by the back of your neck, rubbing your lower back, admiring you, fucking you. And then the head of his cock is pressing into you, and that last little bit of hesitation gives way.
“Oh, baby,” Eren bends over you to growl in your ear, “never gonna forgive you for keeping this perfect pussy from me all these years.”
“Eren, it’s so– oh my god,” you trail off, eyes rolling back into your head as a few more inches of him sink into you. The way your body stretches for him, the way he fills you, is unbelievable, sweetened by just the slightest burning sensation.
“Fuck,” he hisses, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck, “you feel so fucking good. Best I’ve ever had.”
You whine at that, pushing your hips back into his and forcing him to bottom out. Eren swears against your skin, nearly collapsing on top of you. Your cunt pulses around him, desperately trying to hold him. You can hardly fathom the weight of him inside you; you’re just so full, the word runs through your mind on a loop.
And when he rolls his hips into yours– you nearly start praying. He drags against your walls so nicely, you nearly cum again then and there. He works up a torturously slow rhythm, grinding his hips into yours. You bite down hard on your bottom lip, trying your hardest to suppress the obscene groan about to leave your mouth. You taste blood.
“Never giving this pussy up,” Eren grunts above you, “never letting you give this to anybody else again. It’s mine, isn’t it?”
You nod into the pillow beneath your head, tears pricking at your eyes. He’s picking up the pace now, and the exquisite push-and-pull rhythm of Eren moving inside of you coupled with the fact that it’s Eren moving inside of you is destroying any semblance of intelligent conversation you can muster.
“Say it’s mine,” his face is beside yours now. A hand grabs your hair, turning your face towards him. You know how dazed you must look, mouth open in a permanent gasp, eyes watery and full of hearts. “God, you look fucking incredible. Say it.”
“My…my pussy is,” you swallow hard around the delicious knot of shame in your throat, “yours. It’s yours.”
“That’s my girl,” Eren sits back up, thrusting even faster, “my pussy, my girl. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes,” you pant, canting your hips back against his, feeling your next orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Eren understands, already knows your body as well as he knows you, and moves the angle of his hips just so to hit that spot he had found so quickly with his fingers earlier. You keen, drooling into the pillow, letting him fuck you stupid.
Eren shoves you over the edge for the second time that night. It’s toe curling, almost violent in nature, the way you cum around him, listening to him hiss as you tighten around him, vice-like. He fucks you through your orgasm for just long enough to see you through it, and flips you onto your back the moment you begin to twitch and shove at his hips, desperate for a break.
You slowly blink your eyes open in surprise, letting the tears roll down your cheeks, expecting to see Eren lining himself up, ready to fuck you senseless once more. Instead, he’s studying you, wiping a tear from your face, licking it off of his finger. There’s a moment happening here, an important one, one you don’t have the mental capacity to absorb right now.
“I want to see you now,” Eren says quietly, “need to see your pretty face when I cum, m’kay?”
You nod dumbly, not knowing how to respond to him in the thick air hanging between you. Before Eren can get any more words out of his open mouth, a loud ring startles you both.
Your phone is buzzing on the floor where it fell from Eren’s pocket; the name on the screen nearly stops your heart. Jean.
You stare into Eren’s eyes, a long, silent beat passes between you both. Your hazy mind is scrambling, grasping at anything you can say to take his mind off of the awkward interruption, but to your surprise, Eren cracks a grin. It’s a wicked grin, prettier than the devil himself and twice as evil.
“Your other boyfriend calling? Checking up on you?”
“He’s not my-”
“Better not be. Not after what I did to you tonight,” Eren’s voice drips with ego. Something in his eyes is territorial, carnal.
You find your words, but they come out quiet. “He’s not. Never again.”
Eren’s grin grows darker. He’s nudging your knees apart with his own, reaching down and pulling one of your legs to wrap around his waist. He’s pushing himself in now, the ringing of your phone fading into the background as the all-encompassing stretch of Eren inside you takes over your thoughts.
“Such a good girl,” he coos, thumbing at your bottom lip, “such a good mouth. Always telling me what I want to hear.”
You nod again, urgently this time, pulling your other leg up to hook them around his waist, hold him inside you, make sure he never leaves again. You’re addicted already; addicted to the pressure in your abdomen, addicted to the way his tip kisses your cervix, addicted to the taste of his sweat as you lick a strip of it from his face, cheekbone to temple.
“I…” you aren’t sure how to articulate how good it is, how good he is. A defeated laugh of your own making interrupts you. “You feel so fucking good. I feel so fucking good right now.”
“God, just look at you, all fucked out for me. You love it, don’t you?” Eren kisses your forehead, face to face with you after propping his elbows on either side of your face. “Love how I fuck you like a whore, don’t you? Tell me, baby.”
“I love it,” your voice is quivering, and you’re vaguely aware of tears streaming down your face. You’re overstimulated, you at least know that, but he just feels so good that asking him to stop seems more painful than letting him keep hammering into you.
“My pretty baby, you’re so fucking perfect,” Eren rambles, “so pretty when you cry for me.”
You can’t break away from his gaze, not through the tears or the rapid-fire speed of him fucking into you. Your legs are shaking so badly you can barely hold them up; Eren’s letting a flurry of little grunts and groans fly out, grabbing onto your cheek with one hand.
“Gonna cum soon,” he huffs, hips still pistoning into you hard enough to hurt, “gonna cum in your pussy, really make it mine, okay?”
“Okay,” you whimper, clamping down on him at the mere thought of it.
“Fuck, you like that don’t you?” He seethes against your forehead, thrusts beginning to falter. “You want to be mine? Want this pretty cunt stuffed full of my cum?”
You can feel him getting closer now, sloppy thrusts punching into your cervix, the ache of bruises forming on your inner thighs as he uses you, chasing his orgasm. You force your eyes open, meeting bright, hypnotizing green. Your voice is going to break, you know it, you hate it, you love him for it. “I– I want to be yours. P-please cum in me Eren, I need it.”
He slams into you one last time, holding his hips as tightly to yours as he can manage, cumming deep inside you with a breathless curse. You arch your back, relishing the feel of his cum in you, warm and filling. Even in your fucked-out mind, you know it’s a lot; you can feel the drip of it, seeping out around his cock and down onto the sheets. The leaden collapse of his body into yours, the gradual softening of him inside you, grounds you, pulling you down from the clouds and back into the bed.
It’s Eren on top of you, sweaty skin clinging to yours, his cum that you begged him for leaking out of your abused pussy. Your eyes shoot open. He’s incredibly heavy, your breath still coming out in short puffs as you try to catch it. He slides out of you; one last pitiful whimper leaving your lips as you find yourself empty.
“Holy shit,” Eren breathes out into the tension, a humorless and exhausted laugh punctuating his statement. As he rolls off of you, you’re overcome with the urge to smack him.
“That’s one way of putting it.” You scrounge around in the bed, trying to find the edge of the sheets to cover yourself with. Eren lays beside you, arm tossed over his eyes, as if the entire axis of your friendship hadn’t just flipped on its head. After a beat, you speak your mind, testing the waters. “I should probably call Jean back.”
That catches his attention. Eren sits up, scowling at you. “Why?”
“Maybe he wants to apologize.”
Eren snorts, rolling off of the bed and pulling you up with him, bridal-style; you aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but all the fight’s been fucked out of you, and you melt into his arms, eyes falling closed. “Who fucking cares?”
“I might,” you answer quietly, adjusting to the heat radiating off of his body. When your eyes open, you realize he’s carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up. Your heart thuds sadly in your chest, overcome with so many emotions you couldn’t begin to name them if you tried. You almost want to cry again, for a different reason now.
Eren sits you on the toilet, not responding to your small confession. He drops to his knees before you, reaches a long arm behind him over to the fixtures on his obscenely large bathtub, pushing the plug in and turning the water on. You draw your knees up to your chest, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed. Satisfied with the water temperature, Eren turns back to you, one hand placed firmly on each of your kneecaps.
“You don’t need him,” he says, solemn as you’ve ever seen him, “and from what I saw tonight, you don’t even want him. You know that now, right?”
There’s something about the way he says it, a hidden thread of pleading woven into his words. Your exhausted brain holds onto that, but your heart refuses to believe in it, broken and beating wildly in your chest.
“I just–”
“I meant it, you know,” Eren avoids your direct gaze, eyes flitting over every feature on your face, “I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. Meant every word of it.”
You pause, wondering absentmindedly if he can hear the pounding of your pulse. “Really?”
“We don’t need to get into it now,” he shrugs, “but you know that. You know I’d do anything for you. You know I’d treat you well. ‘M not a bad guy.”
Your chest aches. “I know, but Eren–”
“So that wasn’t the best sex you’ve ever had in your life?” He fixes you with a singular, raised eyebrow, so serious that you giggle in his face.
“You might have me there.”
“Better than horseface?”
“Watch it.”
The light returns to his eyes; it loosens a hard little piece in your chest, flooding you with warmth. It hits you just how much you love that little sparkle amongst the green, just how much you would give to see it as often as you can. “We won’t talk about it, for now at least. I’ll get us cleaned up, and we can go watch–”
“Mamma Mia,” you blurt, hopeful.
“No fucking shot. But we can watch something else of your choosing, if you let me eat you out again.”
“Eren!” You smack his shoulder, scandalized. Both of you laugh; your fake outrage is twice as funny considering the state of you right now, smeared makeup and bruises on your neck.
He grins crookedly back at you. “That’s not a no.”
15K notes · View notes
luveline · 7 days
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Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll
ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k
Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand? 
But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.  
Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really. 
“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness. 
“I’m thinking.” 
“Aren’t you always?” 
“About you.”
“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.” 
“You’re truly humble.” 
His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again. 
Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap. 
“Is everything okay?” he asks. 
“Fine.” 
You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow. 
“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.” 
“I’m not traumatised.” 
“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.” 
He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important. 
Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen. 
You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?” 
He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.” 
“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.” 
“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed. 
“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.” 
“What did he say to you?” 
You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.” 
“Did he call you that?” 
“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice. 
“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.” 
“You’re flirting with me.” 
“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours. 
He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession. 
“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says. 
You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go. 
“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.” 
“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.” 
Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.” 
The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating. 
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helluvapoison · 3 months
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Saw your preening hcs!!! They're so cute, I love the way you write!!!
How about the same characters helping a reader preen their wings? That would be so awesome :3333
Lend A Helping Hand
Lucifer, Adam, Lute, Vaggie and Husk help reader with preening
warnings: possible innacurate bird knowledge, heaven headcanons (also probably innacurate) illusions to sexual behavior but it’s not
[i]
ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ
˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Seeing you uncomfortable physically hurts him, he has a knee jerk reaction to clutch his heart
• Lucifer’s preemptive when it comes to you, checking your wings around the same time he feels his wings molt
• Dramatically smacks a hand to his forehead, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice! Shit! Oh, duckie, I’m so sorry.”
• Praises you the whole way through, like you’re undergoing a dangerous surgery while wide awake
• Obscenely gentle when handling your wings
• You’ll receive only the utmost care from him!
• That being said, he gets distracted towards the end. Petting your feathers, admiring their color
• “You’re so prett—pretty feathers! You have pretty feathers! Aha.” Lucifer’s nervous chuckle fades as he focuses once more
• He’s more than thorough, quadruple checking his work and asking if you feel better yet
• (Tell him he did a good— no, a great job)
• “A thousand times better, thank you,”
• “Just a thousand?” Lucifer grins cheekily
• “Alright, alright, a million. And here I was worried you’d get a big head over it.”
˚✧₊⁎ Adam ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• “Sucks, amiright?” His voice lacks any sympathy.
You’re sure if you looked, he’d be wearing that punchable smirk
“Go. Away.”
“Yikes, tense much?”
Normally you had more patience than this. Today you were in no mood, whipping around and shooting him a deadly glare
“Adam!”
• Surrendering his hands, Adam turns and leaves, swearing that would be the end of it until your bitchiness subsided
• It’s not like it bothers him to see your nose scrunch in pain or dragging your hands down your face in irritation
• He blames you for turning him into a liar
• “If you make it weird—!”
“Yeah, yeah, you’ll hit me or something. Try being original next time. Now shut up so I can help you. Fuck, you’re just as bad as Lute.”
• Adam is eerily silent. In the mirror you can see his tongue poking out in concentration
• He’s uncharacteristically soft when handling your feathers
• “There,” He dusts his hands together, “Now you can’t say Adam never did nothin’ for you.”
• Fucking flabbergasted when you thank him. Outloud. Oh, you’re never living this down
˚✧₊⁎ Lute ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Treats the matter like an inconvenience, a chore that just has to be done
• “If I don’t help you, we’ll never get back on schedule,” Lute’s tone leaves no room for arguments
• Her hands shoving into your shoulders and forcing you to sit before her
• Despite this, her touch alone is mercy on your wings
• You didn’t know she knew the meaning of the word gentle until now
• Lute is diligent in all she does
• For the briefest, most minuscule of moments she thinks she has a grasp on sin. As innocent as it is, she’s not supposed to be helping you
• She won’t let you ruin her reputation
• She doesn’t dare let her fingertips linger on your feathers (no matter how loudly they sing to her)
• Lute acts as if you’ve burned her when she’s done
• “Thank—“ She’s already storming away, cheeks glowing red. From anger, embarrassment or other, you’ll not find out today, “—you.”
˚✧₊⁎ Vaggie ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• Honestly, she wasn’t going to offer at first
• Vaggie would prefer to forget about her time in Heaven altogether and helping you with your wings proves triggering, though not so terrible she can’t
• Not when the need to help outweighs her guilt
• You look so damn pitiful!
• “Here, hold still,” Vaggie sighs softly as she approaches
• She waits for you to go relax and accept the offer hanging in the air before touching your wings
• Vaggie’s touch is sweet and hesitant, almost treating your feathers like you’re made of porcelain
• “You ok?” She asks as she twists her fingers around the hardened shell, breaking the pin feather
• You smile at her over your shoulder, “Yeah. You’re much better at this than me.”
• Vaggie breathes out a light laugh, “I’ve had more practice. It’s… easier with someone else too, I guess.”
• Significantly less nervous when she’s done
•Next time, she’ll definitely offer her assistance sooner
˚✧₊⁎ Husk ⁎⁺˳✧༚
• He startles you, making you jump when you thought you were alone
• Husk, although he’ll deny it to his double death, made it his job to pay attention to people he cares about
• Watching you walk around uncomfortable, teetering the edge of all too familiar pain was hard to ignore
• “I know those things can be a real bitch.” He points with the bottle he’s holding
• “Are you trying to be sympathetic or stating a fact?”
• “I’ve been around the block a few times,” Husk shrugs, “And I might be offering my services if you need ‘em. Not just good for listening.”
• He almost regrets it when you immediately accept. He looks at his claws, tainted by alcohol and who knows what else, then your wings
• Washes his hands before. Which strikes you as odd because you’ve seen him use a dirty rag to clean glasses at the bar
• He might be qualified but surely you have someone more deserving willing to help you? Someome nicer, someone cleaner, someone better than him?
• Husk isn’t complaining! It’s just his inner thoughts making his hands tremble
• “I owe you a drink for this,” You say sweetly
• Husk hums out a laugh, “Nah. It’s my pleasure,”
~
╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ thank you so mochi, friend! i’m glad you liked them, you read my mind too and gave me an excuse to write these hehe
2K notes · View notes
gojoux · 8 months
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『 𝐖𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊? 』
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· Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader
· Summary: Five times he confesses his feelings and one time you say it back.
· CW: 10.7k (I can explain...) // Fluff. Angst. Classic 5+1 trope that I absolutely adore. Reader have trust issues. Just Gojo being whipped for you. Geto being his wingman. Slight jealousy. Heartbroken Gojo. Argument (he did/said something bad but it's not described so it's up to your imagination).
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“I like you.”
Gojo confessed proudly with a wide grin adorning his face as he looked down at you. His hands are inside his pocket as he stands in front of your desk.
You look up at him in confusion, “What?”
He looked down at you and tilted his head slightly. “I said, I like you.” His words were direct and his gaze was firm. His hair shifted in the breeze from the opened window.
“Oh...” You can't even find a word to describe your feelings to him, and you're pretty sure it's the first time he confessed his feelings to someone, let alone romantically, and to you. “I, uh, thank you.” You smile awkwardly at him.
His gaze was intense despite his wide smile, like he had a laser focusing on you. “Thank me for accepting my feelings. Let me take you out sometime.” His words were casual as if it wasn't a big deal to confess to you.
He takes a hand out of his pocket to push back his hair. “Do you have someone you like, though?” 
You think for a bit before answering, “I don't think so...” You answer, quite unsurely. “At least, not at the moment.” You give him a small smile at the end.
He hummed in response. “Hmm...” His eyes shifted as he pondered your words. “Does that mean I have the opportunity to win your affection?” He asked as his smile widened. His tone and expression seemed both confident and playful at this moment.
“Well...” Before you could reply to his words, you heard a small snicker on the side. It's Geto watching his best friend confess to you.
Then, you realized, “Are you playing truth or dare?” You ask with a raised brow, your eyes shifting from Gojo to Geto and then back to Gojo again.
His cheeks turn slightly red from your question. He glances at Geto and shrugs. “Maybe it's truth and dare,” he answers sheepishly.
“Would your answer change if it was just truth?” He follows up with a smile. Geto's smirk grows wider as he watches you two. He seemed oddly entertained by Gojo's flirtatiousness.
You rest your back against the chair. “Since you're expressing your feeling because of a game, especially because of a dare, I'd say no.” You look up to him with a somewhat apologetic smile.
Gojo's smile faded from his face as it became clear his attempt to confess had failed. He glanced between you and Geto, who was still smiling at him on the side.
“Suguru...” Gojo hissed quietly. “What?” Geto whispered back with a slight chuckle. Gojo sighed with frustration. “Forget it,” he muttered.
He glanced back at you as he scratched the back of his head. “Sorry if it felt like I was playing with your feelings.”
“No problem.” You shrug casually to dismiss the matter. He walks back to sit in front of Geto, probably continuing to play truth or dare.
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The second time he told you he liked you was a week later. You feel him sitting down next to you on the stairs and handing you a drink from the vending machine.
“Thank you.” You answer as you accept the canned drink from his hand. “You're welcome,” he replied. He looked a little tired after his training.
He was silent for a few moments after handing you the drink. His eyes shifted as he looked at you, and then out at the view.  
“Did you know that the sunset has both yellow and orange lights?” He asked you suddenly. His tone was casual but it seemed like he had wanted to tell you something.
The vending machine was on a small landing of stairs, and they faced the view of the sunset. 
“Very beautiful, isn't it?” Your eyes are glued to the view. Gojo followed your gaze. His eyes scanned the scene in front of you, at the horizon of the view and the way the light filtered into the sky.
“Yeah.” His words were slightly distracted. His eyes were not focused on the beautiful sunset, but on the person next to him. “It is. I think sunsets are always beautiful.” 
For some reason, he felt almost compelled to hold your hand. He thought it could be considered a bit too intimate when you're not even together in the first place, but he still wondered if he should do it.
“I enjoy a nice view." He adds, trying to distract himself from these feelings. “Me, too.” You nod in agreement.
His hands clenched into fists. “Mmm.” For whatever reason, he couldn't bring himself to hold your hand and make the first move. 
Gojo's eyes followed the movement of the birds and clouds. He seemed content to let you enjoy the moment in peace, but at the same time, he was eager to start talking again.
“I like you,“ he said after a few moments. “Do you understand what I mean by that?” His tone was slightly more serious now.
“Is this another dare?” You ask back with a chuckle as you finally turn your head to look at him beside you.
His eyes met yours, and he didn't crack a smile as your response. “No, this time it's the truth,” he said, sounding slightly embarrassed, and his cheeks turned slightly red. “I'm just trying to tell you how I feel...”
Gojo was not used to confession. He glanced back at the sunset, trying to escape from the situation.
“I like you, too.” You replied with a smile. “You're a great friend.” You take a sip of your canned drink before looking back at the sunset again.
The words ‘friend’ crushed his soul for a few seconds. He thought he was doing better than the previous time. Gojo swallowed the lump in his throat.
His gaze shifted between you and the ground. “...Right,” he finally said.
A tense silence hung between you as you both let the sunset wash over your faces. Gojo thought hard about his words. His eyes gave nothing away but his face betrayed some uncertainty.
“I was hoping we would become more than just friends, though.” He speaks up after a minute of silence.
“Best friends?” You offer. “It will be nice to be your best friend, and I could be your other one besides Geto.” You chuckle, trying to brush off this tingly feeling inside you.
“Best friends...” He repeated the words as if he didn't want to admit that this wasn't what he hoped for. He shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with these feelings of his not being reciprocated.
“Hey, can I tell you something?” He asked after a few moments of silence. He wanted to share how he felt, even if it wasn't going to go anywhere.
“Sure.” You look at him, waiting for him to speak.
He took a breath and let the words flow freely. “You really are someone I care about, and not just as a friend.” He paused, trying to think of the right words. “I just wanted you to know that... that you mean a lot to me.” A small sincere smile came to his face.
Gojo wasn't used to sharing his feelings quite so openly. He looked down at his hands, which were still clenched into fists.
You stay quiet and then smile at his words. “Aww, thank you.” You can't help but appreciate his efforts to express his feelings since he's not one to do so.
A small grin crossed Gojo's face. He sighed, the tension he felt dissipating a bit. “No problem. And I'm not just saying that either,” he added. “It's the truth. You're a really great person.“
His gaze shifted forward again, watching the clouds move. “Thanks for listening, (Y/N).” He seemed a bit more relieved with that exchange. “It was nice to get that off my chest.”
You smile at his words, glad that he's comfortable enough around you to tell his feelings. Not long after, you get up from your seat and he looks up at you standing up. “I'll be heading back to the dorm.”
“Oh? You're leaving already?” He asks. “Don't you want to enjoy the rest of the sunset?” He pointed out.
The sun was starting to go down, the sky filling with a beautiful orange hue. “If you leave now, you'll miss the best part.”
“I'm getting sleepy, my eyes are heavy.” His eyebrows raised slightly as you were ready to leave. He pushed himself back up, ready to follow you, but he hesitated.
Should he hold your hand like he wanted to? He had confessed to you, but this wasn't a romantic moment anymore. What if he made you uncomfortable? Gojo thought for a few moments, before making his decision.
He reached forward and took your hand, gripping it softly. “I'll head back with you,” he said to you with a small smile on his face.
You were stunned by the feeling of his hand holding yours. He's so warm, and the tingly feeling inside you spreads even more. 
“I can go on my own, you know.” You make no effort to pull your hand away from him. His expression shifted to bashful at your words. “I know. But...” 
He took a deep breath. “I wanted to go with you,” he told you. He gripped your hand a bit tighter as he looked down at it. “Is that okay with you? Or should I let go?”
“No.” You shake your head, not realizing you're squeezing his hand. “It's okay.”
Gojo's chest felt lighter when you said it was okay for him to keep holding your hand. He squeezed your hand back in response.
You both started to walk towards the dorm, his fingers intertwined with yours. It was such a simple action, but it felt so meaningful. He takes a moment to appreciate this gesture, his head turned to see the sunset once more before looking at you again.
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In more than three weeks of knowing each other better, Gojo has grown more attached to you. And you can't say that you don't feel the same.
You were now indeed best friends. His feelings for you keep growing, and your feelings also bloom for him. But you tried your hardest to not let that show.
He seemed to have become more confident when it came to expressing his affection for you. But he still didn't seem to have much confidence when it came to flirting or romance, though.
His feelings for you grew with every smile and laugh shared between you both, and he was getting impatient. Every day, he wanted to ask you out, but he wanted to wait for the right moment. He wanted your first date to be perfect.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” He asked you, his eyes lingering on his phone.
“Yeah?” You respond. “Will you go to the cinema with me?” He asks to the point. He put his phone inside his pocket and stood up from his seat.
“Come on.” Without waiting for your answer, he took your hand and led you out of the school building. “There's a movie coming out that I really want to see.” His eyes were sparkling with excitement.
“Whoa, whoa, now?” You ask as you let him drag you away.
“Yeah, why not?” He looks at you confused. He seemed to just expect you to go with him, not even questioning his abrupt proposition. He didn't seem to consider the possible answer could be ‘no’.
Geto who was minding his own business watched the two of you leave with a small smirk. “Oh, you two are finally going out?” He teased. “Yeah! See you later, Suguru!” Gojo's voice fades away after he exits the classroom.
“Why not ask Geto?” You ask him a bit breathless from the long walk and wait for an assistant manager to drive you to your destination. 
“You think I want him to watch us go on a date?” He looked at you with a chuckle. “I just... wanted it to be the two of us,” he explained quietly.
“This is a date?” You ask confused. “We're not dating, though?”
He looks slightly flustered by your words. “Well, that's what I'm hoping to change.” He mumbles to himself. “To be honest, I just wanted to spend time with you.” His tone is still quiet but a little sheepish. 
“Mmm...” You only nod at him.
The assistant manager arrives to drive you to the cinema. He's surprisingly quiet the entire ride, choosing to look outside of the window instead, and he seemed content that way. But he's seated close to you, and his hand itched to hold yours the entire time.
Once you both arrive, he opens the car door for you and gives a nod to thank the assistant manager for taking the two of you there.
The car drives off, and Gojo grabs your hand once more, not wanting to let go as you both enter the mall. You walk side by side, holding hands, and still in your uniform.
“You haven't told me what you want to watch yet?” You ask as you let him lead you toward the cinema.
He grins at you. “I want to watch the newest romantic comedy. You know, the one with the super attractive actors?” He leans in a little closer as he speaks. His hold on your hand becomes slightly tighter. 
“Oh? I didn't expect you to be excited over romantic movies.” You grin playfully at him. Your heart is beating fast from the way he holds your hand.
He chuckles in response. “Oh, I enjoy them. I find them very amusing.” He looks at you with a teasing smile. “Maybe I just like looking at pretty girls in love.”
He glances around the mall but doesn't let go of your hand as the two of you continue walking. His eyes flicker back to you every now and then.
“Pretty girls in love?” You ask again with another chuckle as you shake your head. He nods at your question. “I certainly do,” he answers. “But I feel like you already know that.”
He then looks at you with a slight grin. You feel a subtle tug on the back of your arm as he pulls you closer. “I'd say you're the most beautiful one I know,” he confesses in a soft tone. “So I like looking at you.”
You can feel your heart skip a beat and your face heats up at his words. “What a flirt.” You mumble under your breath.
Gojo chuckles again at your response. "Yeah, yeah. I think I did better than last time." He gives you a wink as you both reach the cinema.
He lets go of your hand for a moment to buy tickets for the two of you, before taking your hand once more as he guides you into the studio where you’re going to be watching the movie.
“When is the movie starting?” You look at him. “The movie?” He seems to be zoning out as he walks with you. “What else?” You ask back. “Oh, I think there's still about 30 minutes before it starts.” He then snaps back to attention. “I mean,” he adds with a chuckle. “Does that mean we have time to grab a snack?”
He pauses as he sees a concession stand in front of you. “There's even cute girls working here.” The last part of the sentence was muttered under his breath.
“Cute girls?” You repeat to yourself quietly, your gaze following him, before shaking your head, letting go of his hand, and walking towards the counter to order some snacks.
Gojo doesn't seem to take too kindly to the fact that you've let go of his hand. He frowns slightly. “Wait, what are you doing?” He glances back down at you with slightly parted lips and wide, questioning eyes. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly. “I was hoping we could hold hands...” he utters quietly, glancing down at your hand.
“You want to hold my hand while you flirt with the cute worker? No thanks.” You say as you wait in line. You try to ignore the jealous feeling in your heart and play it cool.
His expression is blank when he thinks about what you've just said. “Why would you assume I'm going to flirt with the girl at the stand?” he asks you. He glances at the girls working at the concession stand, and back at you. “They just look cute, that's all.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“We were holding hands a while ago,” He reminds you, a slightly hurt look in his eyes, but he quickly shakes it off.
Then his eyebrows raise slightly and he looks at you with a teasing expression. “Oh, are you jealous?” The two girls working behind the counter exchange a look and share a slight chuckle, clearly having overheard your conversation.
“Why should I be jealous? You're not my boyfriend.” You stuck your tongue out playfully at him.
Gojo's smile fades for a while at your words. He lets out a sigh of irritation, “I wish I was,” he utters quietly. He quickly covers it up again with his usual attitude. “But I could be,” he replies in a teasing tone. In response to your gesture, he makes a face and sticks his tongue out at you.
“Ha, you wished.” You brush him off.
Gojo keeps a smirk on his face, but he's secretly hurt by your words. “Well, if my wish was true, I would make you my girlfriend today,” he utters quietly.
“What are you going to get?” He averts the topic, his voice is slightly quieter than usual and not as playful.
“Package C.” You point out the big screen on the top. He looks at where you’re pointing and nods. The concession stand is busy, and more customers have joined the line behind you.
“I'll just order for the both of us.” He seems annoyed but still keeps a faint smile on his face. You look at him in confusion, stunned by his change of attitude.
Without you realizing it, Gojo has taken a soft spot for you, and he wears his emotions on his sleeves from how comfortable he is around you.
You see that his eyes narrow and you can tell he feels hurt from your words earlier. But that’s your assumption, you don’t want to think too much about it. He steps to the counter himself, and asks the girl working behind it, “Two Package C's, please.”
You both moved to the side after he was done ordering, waiting for your name to be called to pick up your orders.
He leans against the wall with his arms crossed. The two of you quietly wait for your orders as the movie's start time draws closer. He takes a few more glares at you, before sighing. “I think I might have been too harsh,” he mumbles to himself.
His eyes are focused on the counter and you can tell he's still thinking hard about your words. He’s just jealous and hurt, that’s all.
He glances at you in silence until his name is called to pick up the order. “Let's go sit somewhere before the movie starts.” He takes them from the girl behind the counter, he's still upset by how distant he sounds.
“What's wrong?” You finally break the silence once you both find a nearby seat to wait. You can see Gojo's jaw tighten slightly as soon as you speak. He's still struggling with his thoughts.
After a few more seconds, he sighs and gives you a tight grin. “Nothing's wrong,” he answers with a shake of his head. He doesn't seem like his usual, carefree self, but he tries to hide it by maintaining the smile. He’s still bothered by what you said.
“Well, I think something is wrong.” You shift your body slightly to the side to face him. He stares at you in silence for a while. He looks conflicted for a moment as if trying to decide whether he should tell you the truth or keep it to himself.
“I... am a bit upset,” he finally admits after a long pause. He still doesn't give you an explanation, but you can tell that he wants to tell you something important.
“Because...?” You urge him to continue.
“Because of what you said... about not being your boyfriend.” He admits quietly with a hint of sadness in his voice. He takes a deep breath and crosses his arms across his chest after putting the food package to the side. He looks at you with a conflicted gaze, like he wants to say something else.
“But it’s true, right? You’re not.” His eyes narrow at your words. You can see the sadness and disappointment on his face.
“Because I want to be your boyfriend.” Gojo's words seem to surprise you as they surprise him himself. He seems a little embarrassed as he looks back at you, his head tilted in your direction.
“Listen,” he paused for a bit. “I like you, alright?” His eyes flick to you for a split second before looking down at the floor again. “I really do.” His tone is softer, but his words seem firm and honest. He takes a breath, his expression softening slightly.
“I want to be more than just friends with you,” he answers softly. The look on his face seems to beg for confirmation. He wants to know if you feel the same way.
Your breath hitched at his confession. You know that he likes you, but you’re still unsure if he’s actually genuine and able to commit to you or not.
You do trust him as your friend and ally, but you’re still unsure if you could trust your heart to him. And you feel awful for always leaving him hanging from your ambiguous response.
Deep inside, you want to be with him. You just want to be selfish for a while longer, and you promise yourself to make it up to him after you made up your mind.
Fortunately for you in this situation, the studio door is now open, a sign for everyone to start entering. 
“Let's just enjoy the movie for now, okay?” You stand up from your seat.
He frowns, trying not to show his disappointment at you dodging the question. “Of course,” he answers quietly, following your lead and standing up to enter the cinema.
The two of you sit down and start watching the movie, and the mood seems to soften a bit. He's back to his relaxed and playful self as he enjoys the movie.
You notice that his hand is slowly creeping closer to yours. He's still staring intently at the movie but makes no attempt to move his hand away. The tension from the conversation seems to have lifted, making the atmosphere more lighthearted again.
You hear a soft sigh and see him glance at you for a quick moment. He gives you a small smile, before focusing his attention back on the movie.
A few minutes later, his hand rests on top of yours. He focuses on the movie and smiles at some of the scenes. The two of you don't say anything for a while, but Gojo continues to smile as you both enjoy the movie.
“What are you doing?” You try to sound unbothered as you can while sipping your drink.
“What does it look like I'm doing?” He glances at you then turns away quickly, acting as if he's not doing anything, but he keeps his hand on top of yours.
His gaze is focused on the screen, but he's being playfully cheeky with his response. “If you want, I can give you a head pat, too. I hear it's all the rage.” His tone is slightly teasing in response.
“Does my touch bother you?” He adds quietly.
You shake your head before saying, “No,” secretly enjoying the closeness.
He smiles and gives you a light squeeze with his hand. His eyes are still focused on the movie, but from time to time he glances down at your hands. From the way he smiles, you can tell he's enjoying this moment just as much as you.
The joy is clear on Gojo's face as he watches the movie. He's giggling and laughing at all the right places and even nudges you at some points to share his laughter while keeping his hand on top of yours for most of the movie.
He leans in a little closer as the credits start to roll. “Hey.” He leans in a little closer as if he's about to whisper something into your ear.
“Yes?” You tried to guess what he could have possibly said with your heart beating faster.
His eyes are focused on your face, and he doesn't seem to be distracted by the credits or people leaving the cinema around you.
“I really enjoyed today,” he says rather quietly. His smile seems genuine and he gives you a small nod. “I like being with you,” he continues. “Can we do it again sometime?”
You let a smile escape your lips, “Of course.” You nod. “Thank you for taking me here today.”
“No problem,” he answers with a grin. He pulls his hand away slightly and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “This was fun.”
As the credits continue to roll, the lights dim again. You can hear people start to talk and slowly leave the cinema. “Do you wanna stay here a little longer?”
You lean back in your seat, looking at the credit scene with the music in the background. “Maybe a bit more.”
He smiles and leans against the back of his seat as well. He rests his head on your shoulder ever so slightly as you both look at the credits. 
You try to keep your body relaxed when you feel his cheek on your shoulder. But the atmosphere is surprisingly comfortable, you like it.
“Do you have plans afterward?” He asks. “I was thinking that maybe we could go out for some ramen.” A faint blush spreads across his face. He looks at you expectantly, the credits still rolling in the background.
“Do you know a place for any ramen shops you recommend?” 
“Actually, I know a ramen shop pretty close to Jujutsu High," he answers. “It's a small, local family business. It's a personal favorite of mine.”
He smiles brightly and grabs your hand again. “Come on, I'll take you there.” His tone is cheerful as he sits straight again.
“You don't mind if I hold your hand, do you?”
“Why would you want to hold my hand, though?” 
His grin falters slightly and he gives you a sidelong glance. “Because I like holding your hand,” he answers simply. He squeezes your hand slightly, his thumb gently brushing against your palm.
You already know that he's the type to go into people's personal spaces— those he considers as friends though— and he's very touchy as well. 
Circling an arm behind Shoko's chair and sometimes he ends up putting his hand on her shoulder, resting his weight on Geto while they talk, and he seems to enjoy touching your hand.
And you can't lie to yourself and say you don't like it.
Your day continues with him taking you to his recommended ramen shop and treating your meals until you're satisfied, because that's what he's intended to do.
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The fourth time Gojo confessed his feelings was not long after your cinema hangout, or what he would call it a date instead.
His confession is rather different this time.
There are constant texts from Gojo on your phone, but his messages are never dull. They're filled with poems, flirty memes, and even his own original drawings and photos.
He sends you love poems, quotes with romantic context, and even pictures of landscapes that he found interesting.
He even sends you a few poems by Shikibu Izumi and Ono no Komachi, a few of the most famous poets of the Heian period.
You're not even surprised to receive these messages anymore. In fact, it's expected and makes you smile each time. Gojo is just being Gojo. And Gojo likes you, a lot.
He would send you texts out of nowhere regarding time and places like,
“I just want to hold your hand,” followed by a long message of poetry.
“Your beauty makes me weak.”
“You're everything I've ever wanted.”
“I've been thinking about you all day.”
“Every day, just seeing your face is enough to make me feel so happy.”
“I just want to be yours, forever and always.”
Or sometimes like, 
“Did you know the moon and sun both revolve around each other? Just like how we do, because we were meant to be together.”
And even more random text like,
“The day is beautiful, just like you.”
“Do you know what my favorite part of the day is? It’s seeing your beautiful face in the morning, of course.”
“Do you know what my favorite thing to do together is? It’s playing Momotaro Dentetsu together, just you and me.”
“Do you know the best thing about you? You always have such a contagious smile, my lovely one.”
Every text he sends you always makes your heart soar with happiness. It makes you smile wide in public and squeal to yourself in your room.
He keeps blowing on the wind that makes your heart fly so high. You just hope that he won't stop blowing the wind when your heart reaches up high so you won't crash and fall to get it shattered to pieces. 
There is no way you could ignore his sweet text like that, can you?
You would always reply back with some emojis or compliments, sometimes you would share a few videos and pictures. That's enough to keep him going, and he keeps getting bolder with his words.
When you're busy with your school assignment and could only reply with one text such as,
“You're so sweet. Thank you.”
He would reply with more text,
“What? I'm just being honest, my love. I'm not even close to being sweet enough for you.”
“What are you doing right now? I hope you're having a good day, you deserve it.”
He always grins when he waits for your reply, or at least until you read his text. His fingers always tingle when he texts you. He still can't believe that you haven't turned him down.
It's always making your heart race when he calls you pet names, and you're not even dating. He's just so comfortable using them on you.
On one fine day, you were eating lunch with Shoko while you told her about Gojo. She sits across from you, listening to you talk. She takes bites of her food as she listens to your stories.
You tell him about Gojo's constant flirting and how he's been sending you poems and love quotes. You mention that he also asked you out to get some food together.
“He really likes you, you know that right?” Shoko asks you matter-of-factly. From her expression, it doesn't seem as if she's surprised by the news. “It's starting to sound like you have a crush on Gojo,” she teases lightly.
You let out a loud sigh. “Because I do...” You mumble.
“So you still haven't officially started dating?” She looks over at you with a skeptical expression. “Why's that?”
“He's so blatantly flirting with you and you're so obviously into him. What's keeping you two from becoming a couple?” She tilts her head in curiosity.
“He's very popular among the girls, why would he pursue me out of all people?” You let out another sigh. “I'm just... afraid of getting my feelings hurt.” You admit before taking another bite of your food.
Shoko leans back in her chair. “He's so fond of you, it's obvious. The way he keeps texting you, the things he says. It's almost like he's head over heels.”
“What I'm trying to say is...” She pauses, looking for the right words to say. “I see how he looks at you. If he didn't have a genuine thing for you, he would have given up a long time ago.”
You consider her words carefully in silence.
Then, out of nowhere, Geto appears and pats you on the back. “Hey, (Y/N), Shoko,” he looks at you and Shoko and then back at you.
“Sorry to interrupt, but do you mind coming with me for a while?” He asks you. You shrug and set your lunch aside. “Yeah, sure. What is it?”
“Just come with me.” He walks away and you follow not far behind with Shoko also deciding to tag along. He leads you toward the training field.
There is Gojo in the middle of the field, with huge neatly arranged words of I LOVE YOU with red rose petals on the grass.
“Oh, my...” You look at the sight, speechless.
Even Shoko is stunned beside you.
“Hmm, I wonder who that could be for?” Geto chuckles and glances at you.
Gojo smiles brightly from the training field when he sees you, “(Y/N)~!!” he waves in your direction.
He holds one stamp of red rose and walks past the stairs to you. He looks confident and proud as if expecting a positive response. He holds out the rose in his hand to you which you gladly accept.
“I thought today would be a perfect day for a little surprise.” He looks genuinely happy to see you. He continues to smile as you take in the flower display. “So, what do you think?” His eyes focused intently on you, watching your every reaction.
“That is...” You try to find a word to describe it, “Beautiful.” Your eyes are locked on the field. The red rose petals look beautiful on the green field.
“I’m glad you like it.” His face breaks out into a broad smile. “Come, let me show you from up close.” He grabs your hand and leads you down the stairs toward the field where the roses are.
He doesn’t mind Geto and Shoko far behind, he’s just focused on you right now.
He walks over to the flower display and leans forward, picking up one of the roses. He turns to you and offers you the flower.
“Here, this one's for you.” His voice is gentle as he hands you the red rose. You can see the happiness in his eyes. “I didn’t get you roses for nothing.” He tilts his head to the side slightly as he smiles at you.
“How long does this take you to arrange?” You look at the small roses scattering on the grass.
He’s lucky that today isn’t windy, an impulsive reason why he just drags Geto to the field and tells his plan to set this up right away without any preparation except for his imagination on what he wants it to look like.
“That?” He gestures to the flower arrangement in front of you. “I just did it this morning, took about a few hours,” he answers casually. “It was worth it though,” he adds softly, his gaze drifting towards your hands.
Your fingers are still interlocked with his and he leans closer to you, still gripping your hand. “You know I like you, don't you?” His grip on your hand tightens slightly but still holds gently to you and caresses the back of your hand.
“Thank you for all this.” Your smile widens. He hums softly. He reaches up and strokes your head lightly. “You’re welcome.” He leans his head close to yours to kiss your cheek.
“Come.” He smiles at you brightly. He caresses the back of your neck gently as he steps back as if giving you space. “You should pick a rose. I think it would look good on you.”
“Okay.” You nod, feeling shy all of a sudden. His gaze is fixed on you, watching as you reach out to take a flower.
The rose you’ve chosen is a vibrant shade of red, one of the brighter roses among all the other blooms. It’s the perfect flower for you, with the color perfectly matching your hair and overall vibe.
“Here,” he carefully pins the rose behind your ear. The red petals fluttered in the sunlight, the rose contrasting beautifully with your hair. His gaze is still locked in on you as he adjusts the flower.
“Well, isn’t this a cute sight.” A faint smile appears on Shoko’s face as she watches from far away with Geto.
“I guess this settles it all.” The man beside her chuckles. “Satoru has been preparing this since the morning. He looks all happy about it.”
“Maybe next time, those two can go on a date.” He adds, with a hint of playfulness in his voice. “Once they officially start dating, that is.”
Gojo gently pushes the rose further up behind your ear with a smile. “I’ve said it many times now,” he chuckles, his voice sounding like music in your ears. He seems to be taking in every detail of your appearance.
“I wanted you to know that you’re all I think about during the day. And you’re all that I’m dreaming about at night.”
Gojo takes a step closer to you and lightly grabs your hand again. “So, what do you say?” His gaze is still locked on you.
“Let’s make this day a special one.” He looks at you expectantly, his face shows how excited and cheerful he is. He leans in close to you, his hand still tight in his grip on yours. The display of red roses in front of you seems to be a clear message.
You blink a few times and try to calm down your fast-racing heart before speaking, “I—” until it's interrupted by Yaga calling out to him, “Satoru!” making both of you look in the direction.
Yaga seems to appear in between Geto and Shoko who looks both surprised and apologetic since they knew you two are in the middle of something.
His smile drops instantly when Yaga calls out to him. He slowly pulls away from you and turns his attention toward the direction of the voice. “Damn it.” He curses under his breath with a look of annoyance crosses his face.
“I need you to come to my office.” He calls out again before turning to Geto beside him, “You, too, Suguru.” He adds before walking away.
“I gotta go.” He suddenly pulls you closer for a quick hug. “We’ll continue this later alright?” He pulls away from you and starts to follow after Yaga and Geto ahead of him.
Shoko walks down the stairs to approach you. “So, did you accept his confession?” She asks while looking at Gojo and Geto’s back.
You look down at the rose he gave you before looking up and turning to see the rose petals that he had arranged.
“No, I didn’t.”
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The fifth time he confessed was when you gave him the silent treatment after he did something that didn't please you.
“I know that I really upset you, but I'm really sorry.”
“Please, (Y/N),” he begs your forgiveness. “I just really don't want to lose you.”
Gojo’s texts come through every 10 minutes or so. He’s desperate for you to respond.
“I messed up, and I'm sorry. I promise it won't happen again.”
“Just... Can you, please?”
“Don't ignore me all day.”
“Please, just listen to me.”
His texts slowly get more frequent as time goes by. They start coming in every couple of minutes. You can see the urgency and anxiety his texts convey as he tries to get a hold of you.
You don’t want to block his contact, just because. But you keep ignoring him, too mad to even think of something to say to him, and right now, you don’t have any energy to deal with this.
It doesn’t stop there. He keeps following you just to explain himself to you, hoping that your view of him won't change because of what he has done.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” He sounds sincere when he approaches you. “I made a mistake.” He tries to take your hand but you pull it away.
“(Y/N), what do I have to do to make up for it? Do you want me to buy you something? I will.” His eyes look sad now, not the confident, cocky look you usually associate with him.
“It won't happen again, I swear.” He looks at you longingly. “Please, I'm begging you.”
“Can you stop following me?” You frown at him, not happy with his presence, something you'd never expect to feel around him.
“No.” He answers bluntly, sounding stubborn. He holds out his hand again. “I'm not leaving yet.” He steps in front of you. “I'm sorry...” He sounds hurt.
“I just want to be with you, (Y/N). Can we please just talk and forget about this whole thing?” His tone is insistent now. “I know I can make it up to you if you just give me the chance.” He continues to look at you with a pleading expression on his face.
“Just leave me alone, can you?” You step back away from him. “You’ve done enough. I don’t want to be around you right now.”
Your words seem to hit Gojo like a ton of bricks. He stays silent for a moment, his face looking like he’s in a slight panic. “But... (Y/N)..." He takes a step towards you, trying to take your hand. He sounds desperate when he speaks to you now.
“Do you really mean that?” He looks at you with a sad, but pleading look in his eyes. Gojo's hands go to his sides as he tries to look as small as he can. “If you give me one last chance, I'll be the best boyfriend ever. I promise.” His voice breaks a bit.
“Gojo.” Your voice is warning now, you don’t want to deal with this even further, knowing that you might say something you’ll regret later.
He goes quiet for a moment, looking down at the floor and adjusting his glasses. He seems to be holding himself back from saying anything. “Okay.” His voice is soft, almost like a whisper. “I'll just go then, and leave you alone, like you want.”
“I’m sorry...” You can see him taking off his glasses and wipe his eyes slightly as he leaves. “But you better not forget that I love you. I always will.” He turns his head slightly to look back at you.
He starts to walk away before he suddenly stops and turns back.
“Oh, right…” He suddenly reaches into his pocket and takes out a single rose. He offers it to you with a sad smile. “Here, this is for you.” His hand stays outstretched, holding the rose close to you. “I hope you’ll forgive me.”
“If you’ll take this, that is. Please?” Gojo’s voice sounds desperate and he gives you a soft, almost puppy-like look. His eyes are filled with longing as he gazes at you, the rose held out in his hand.
“I'm not accepting your apology and your confession.” You cross your arms and look away, unconsciously letting the words impulsively spill out from your upset mind.
The small smile quickly disappears from Gojo’s face as your reply reaches his ears. He stares at you as you speak in disbelief. “Huh?”
“Why not?” His hand slowly starts to lower by his side, the rose he holds slowly falling onto the ground. “After everything I’ve done for you?” His voice sounds confused as he starts to speak slowly. “You’re still not going to accept?”
“Loving you will just hurt me in the end.” You don’t even know what you’re saying.
You’re hurt from what he did, from what he said. And your mind is telling you to hurt him back.
You don’t want to, but you did it anyway.
“How could you say that?” He quickly steps forward. The rose still lies abandoned at your feet. “How could loving me ever hurt you?” He looks at you with a confused expression.
“(Y/N), I just— I don’t understand how that makes any sense.” His voice quickly turns from confusion to anger. “I’ve spent months trying to make you mine and now you’re telling me ‘it doesn’t matter’?”
You roll your eyes in annoyance, “It’s you who are the one so persistent. Don’t blame me if you don’t get what you want.”
Your comment catches Gojo off guard, making his jaw clenches. “You don’t mean that…” Another hurt expression creeps onto Gojo’s face.
“I just love you too much, okay? Is that so wrong?” He starts to step towards you while talking. “I don’t care how hard it is, I don’t care how much it hurts, I just— want to love you, (Y/N).”
Your lips tremble, trying to surpass your mixed emotion. “Don't expect me to return your love, then.” You walk past him, stepping on the small rose petal that he dropped on the floor earlier. Like you’re stepping on his feelings.
“Wait—” Gojo quickly tries to grab your hand, stopping you from moving away as quickly as you were trying to.
“I’m telling you, I’ll make this up to you. Just give me some time, please.” He looks at you desperately, still clutching onto your wrist. “I can change, (Y/N). You just have to give me the chance.”
“Give me a chance, will ya? Just let my love wash over you and let me sweep you off your feet.” His voice sounds almost like a plea now. “You’ll be so happy, I know you will.”
“You say you won’t let love hurt you, but that’s exactly what love is all about.” He says softly. “Love makes you want it even when it hurts.”
You wriggle your wrist in his hold, your eyes keep glaring at him. “Just stop trying. I don’t want it.”
“No, I can't.” The frustration clearly reaches his voice. “I need you to know how much I love you, (Y/N). Please just hear me out, alright?” His expression is starting to become pleading again
 “I can't stop now. I just— I know you're the right one. I will not give up on convincing you. Just— just don't walk away. I'll do whatever it takes, alright?”
You’re listening, to every single word he says. But with your emotions right now, you act like you didn’t.
“Gojo.” You say his name sternly again. “Let me go.”
He shakes his head stubbornly and pulls you into a tight hug. “You don't mean any of the cold things you're saying, do you?” His voice sounds desperate as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“I can't give up now. I'm in too deep and you know I can't back down.”
You grasp the side of his uniform. “Please, stop.”
“You're just lying to yourself. I know you don't mean any of this.” He pulls back slightly and looks at you intensely, his tone now annoyed. “I just want to love you. I want to make you happy. Is that so hard to understand?”
He cups your face gently despite the tense situation and a frown on his face. You could see his emotions clearly without his glasses.
“Look into my eyes and tell me you don't care.” Gojo looks at you as if trying to prove a point.
You stay silent, not knowing what to say because he’s right, before saying the only thing that crosses your mind, “I don't want to deal with you right now.”
He doesn't speak for a moment, he looks conflicted, and he takes a small step back. “Alright.” He sighs quietly and looks at you for a few moments.
“I'll let go of you now.”
“But I'm not giving up yet.” He gives you a brief smile before turning away. “I promise I'll make it up to you.”
The weight of the air changes as Gojo’s presence fades into the background. He leaves, his hands in his pockets.
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A couple of days have passed and you and Gojo are still not on the best of terms. You continue to avoid talking to him and any interactions you have to have seem cold and awkward.
Gojo, on the other hand, is still determined to make you return his feelings.
He seems to have accepted that you’re avoiding him now. Despite this, you’ll occasionally catch him glancing at you from across the room as if longing for the moment when you’ll finally forgive him and give him a chance.
You two still have many of the same classes together, so you’re practically bound to be in the same room even if you avoid each other as much as possible.
It makes Geto and Shoko confused because— what just happened between you two?
You were lovey-dovey the other day, and distant now.
Ah, young, stupid love.
You find it hard to talk to him without getting annoyed or frustrated at him. And yet, you find yourself wondering where he is or what he’s doing. You find yourself paying more attention to him than you should.
Until one day, you can’t find him anywhere after lessons.
You walk around the school casually as if you’re not looking for him.
The weather is windy, and it looks like it's about to rain. The wind blows softly on your hair, and the breeze has an oddly refreshing feeling that is not too far from the start of a rainstorm.
You finally found him on the stairs that lead to the training field. The place where he confessed with many red rose petals on the grass, hours of effort to surprise you and make you happy, all put to waste.
You remember smiling the whole time you picked up the petals once he left, replaying the words over and over again in your head.
You kept them inside a small bag where you cherished thousands of rose petals of his love declaration for you.
His head is ducked down against his arms on his knees as if taking a break. His glasses have fallen on the ground. One of his hands holds a single rose, the bright shade of red almost looking artificial in its vibrancy.
“Gojo?” You call out to him, soft and quiet, for the first time after days of not talking to him.
Gojo’s head jerks towards you and his eyes quickly open as he sees you walking towards him. He doesn’t immediately speak, instead focusing on observing your every move with a thoughtful expression on his face.
His hand shifts, the rose he holds changing position in his grip.
“(Y/N)?” He looks at you, his eyes wider than usual. He looks down at the rose in his hand and smiles briefly. The wind gently blows his hair as he glances at you.
“It's been a while.” He says awkwardly. “How have you been?”
You sit down next to him, looking at the field as you enjoy the breeze. “Good… maybe.” You answer shortly, not sure if you can say you’re actually okay. “You?”
“I've been better.” His voice is slightly quieter than normal as he places the rose next to him. “I feel bad for the stuff that happened between us a few days ago.” He looks at you before speaking up again. “I'm still sorry.”
A couple of seconds pass as neither of you speak. Both of you seem hesitant to start a conversation after what happened last time.
“I know we haven’t spoken in a few days, but I just want to say...“ He stops talking briefly before continuing to speak again. “... I understand if you don't want to speak to me and I'm sure you're still mad, but—“
He hands you the flower. “The rose is for you. I picked it up for you earlier.”
You accept the rose. “Thank you.” You say quietly. “Why were you picking up roses?”
“No reason, really.” He answers casually while looking out towards the field. “I just saw it and I thought of you. I was thinking of you.” 
“That’s sweet.” You admire the rose in your hand. He must have chosen the best one from the garden, it might be the most beautiful one he gave you.
The rose on your hand is like a silent confession and apology. It reminds you of the single rose petal that he dropped on the floor and you step on back then.
You noticed how he was more reserved around you ever since that talk in the empty hallway, and you just need to know, “Are you okay?”
He sighs and looks away, avoiding your gaze. He doesn't say anything for a couple of seconds, giving you an answer that sounds less than truthful. “Yeah, I'm fine.” He then looks at you again. “Don't worry so much about me.”
A brief moment of silence passes. Gojo glances down at the rose next to him for a few seconds before looking back at you. “What are you doing out here?”
This time, you’re glad that you let the word slip out, “I was looking for you.”
He looks at you with eyes filled with curiosity. “Why were you looking for me?” His voice sounds softer now. “Did you need something?” A faint smile appears on his face as he continues to look at you.
“Is this a chance at reconciliation?” He gives a half-hearted chuckle as he asks, deep down hoping you’ll accept him, again.
“Or were you missing me that much already?” The teasing tone is back but it holds some genuine curiosity and a hint of hope. “Are you finally trying to admit that you missed having me around?” He glances at you from the corner of his eye.
His hand picks up a single fallen rose petal next to his feet. He quickly grabs it and places it on your hand that is still holding the rose with a small smile on his face.
Your lips tremble at his gesture as you try to hold back the tears and you look away to calm yourself down with a few small deep breaths before looking down at the rose.
“You were right.”
“About what?” He asks in response as he looks at you. “What's right?”
“About that day, when we argue.” You admit. “You were right... I didn't mean what I said. I was just too upset with you that time.”
“Well, I did take things too far.” His expression softens as you speak. “I made you angry that day.”
You look down at the rose once more before looking at him again to ask the same question, “Are you really okay?”
The question is clearly getting to him and his small smile soon fades away. He looks away from you, giving his answer carefully. “Not really.” He finally admits. His voice is softer, almost sad.
“I know I screwed things up between us.” A couple of more seconds pass. “I know I messed it up bad this time.”
“But, can I tell you something?” He looks at you expectantly.
“Yes. Of course.” You keep your eyes on him, listening for what he has to say.
“I know I've made a lot of mistakes, but I still want to keep trying. You know how I feel about you… I haven't changed my mind either.” He looks at you for a few moments.
“I also know I’ve kind of, well… been bothering you this whole time.” He chuckles awkwardly. “I just can’t seem to get you off my mind.”
“Can’t escape those eyes either…” His eyes are slowly lured towards your own. His expression is almost pensive. “I just want to be with you, (Y/N).”
He looks in front of the fields, recalling that morning when he lays every single rose petal on the grass, only hoping that it could impress you.
He also recalls his first confession to you because of a dare from Geto. He already liked you before then, the dare was just the first small step that his best friends have set up for him.
He sighs again, “Maybe you're right. My love is doomed to fail... but I can't stop loving you, even though you don't feel the same.” He pauses for a few seconds before adding, “I keep trying so hard because it’s you.”
Small droplets fall from the gloomy sky and the wind blows softly, making the tiny droplets of rain feel like a slight sprinkle of coolness across your skin. The wind picks up, the few raindrops turning into a drizzle.
Gojo doesn’t mind the rain. He’s pouring out his heart like the cloud is pouring out rain right now, it increases in volume.
You stand up and kneel down in front of him, still holding the rose with one hand and another cupping his cheek, noticing how sad his eyes look.
You finally say the words he’s been desperate to hear, and they roll out your tongue just right,
“I love you, too.”
Gojo stares at you in disbelief, his eyes slowly widening as he processes your words. He remains motionless for a few seconds, unsure of how to respond. His eyes look shocked for a moment as if he truly did not expect these words from you.
“Huh?” He seems unable to register your words or understand fully what you mean. The rain drops down on his face, but he's too distracted to care.
“What did you just say?” He takes in a breath and turns your head to him. “Did you just— I'm sorry, can you repeat that again? Please…” He seems almost too stunned to respond properly.
You smile as you look at him deep in his wide eyes before saying it again with much more assuringly, “I love you.”
The rain continues to fall and Gojo lets the words sink in. “You love me too?” He repeats, as if trying to make sense of the words.
“You mean it?” He stares at you with hopeful eyes, looking between you and the rose in your hand as if trying to convince himself you really did just say the words he thought he heard.
“Please tell me I didn't misunderstand you earlier.” He sounds almost too shocked, to the point where he almost doubts your words.
You shake your head with a smile remaining on your face. “No, you didn’t.” Your thumb slowly caresses the wet skin of his cheek.
“You really aren't kidding?” He smiles for a moment before his face turns into one of pure surprise again. “You're— you're not just saying that to mess with me, right?” He looks at you as if expecting a joke to follow your response.
“Say it again. Say the words once more.”
You can’t help but chuckle at his reaction, but you don’t mind saying it over and over again just for him.
“Satoru.” You finally called him by his given name. “I love you. I always do.”
His eyes still wide with surprise he blinks rapidly before a wave of realization passes over his face as he stares at you earnestly.
“You mean it, right?” He holds onto your hand. His expression goes from surprised to happy in just a split second. He looks at you with genuine joy as his eyes light up.
“Say it again, (Y/N). Say it again.” This time, his voice sounds less desperate and more like a request. “It would make me so happy to hear it one more time.”
“How many times do you want me to say this?” You chuckle in amusement, but you say it again anyway, “I’m absolutely in love with you.” You say it once more with a bit of exaggeration but you mean it regardless.
His hand starts to reach out to your face. “Now come here. I'm dying to finally kiss you.” His voice is soft, filled with all the anticipation from those past few months.
He pulls you closer, settling you between his thighs, almost on his lap as he pulls you into a strong embrace. He grips your body tightly to him as the rain begins to pour harder.
“I've waited long enough to kiss you,” Gojo says as he brings his face close to yours. You feel your heart beating faster now as his warm breath tickles your skin. Gojo's eyes seem as intense now as the first time he confessed to you.
“Can you say you want it too?” His eyes search yours in anticipation. “Say you want my kiss.”
“Can I have your kiss?” You do what he said with an extra, “Please?”
“That's what I needed to hear.” He smiles and leans down slowly, “Let's make this a good one.” He pressed his soft lips on yours as soon as he finished his sentence. The touch is gentle but passionate, the feeling of his body keeping you warm against the rain falling down on both of you.
He kisses you deeply, with all the pent-up emotion from those past few months, and he leans back after a little while and stares at you, grinning from ear to ear as rain droplets run down your face.
He didn’t say a word before he leaned to kiss you again. He holds you close, bringing you in tight as he runs his fingers through your hair.
His lips are cold in the rain, but they feel good on yours. His warm breath mingles with yours and his arms hold you close. Your lips tingle with the sensation of the cold rain while your body feels the warmth of his body against yours.
His eyes are shut tight and his lips almost seem hungry for yours. He doesn't seem to want to break away from the kiss as his hand holds your cheek to him.
As the rain falls heavily around you, Gojo’s passion seems to burn hotter as he holds you close.
He pulls away and his voice is barely audible as he speaks to you. “I'm glad you finally admitted it.”
“Yeah, it took me long enough.” You say that more to yourself.
Both of you are completely soaked from the rain, his hair is sticking to his forehead and both of your clothes are wet.
“Well, it looks like you already said the magic words.” He leans in and kisses your forehead before standing up and pulling you up as well. “How about another kiss then, since you're already so talkative?”
“Give it to me, then.” You put both hands on his shoulder, one still holding the rose.
“Gladly.” He doesn't hesitate in leaning on you again, wrapping his arm around your waist more intimately and pulling you closer to him.
He pressed his lips against yours in a deeper kiss. If possible, Gojo seems even more affectionate than usual as he pulls you into a tight embrace, his tongue finding a home inside your mouth and his hand gently gripping the material of your uniform.
A faint sound escapes from his throat after a couple of minutes, almost like he's trying to catch his breath. “I love you, (Y/N).”
You’re breathless from the kiss, “I love you, too.” You nuzzle your nose on his.
“I'm so happy...” His voice is filled with emotion, like he's completely intoxicated with love towards you. His grip on you loosens slightly, though he still holds you close.
“Are we dating then?” He smiles at you and brings his hand up to pat your head. “I just want things to be official between us.”
“Hmm, I think so.” You rest your cheek on his body, enjoying the closeness of your body.
His smile widens as he presses his lips against your forehead. “I want you to know, I don't want to have secrets between us.” He runs his fingers through your wet hair. “I want to have more moments like this.” He pulls you closer again, this time placing a kiss on your lips again.
Gojo takes one of your hands between his own, feeling the rose that you kept on holding in your hand as he gently rubs your fingers.
“You're mine, right?”
“Always yours.”
The rose was his heart. You accepted it once and you stepped on it once. He gave you his once more, and you hold it close to your heart.
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Writing confession 5 and 6 got me emotional ಥ‿ಥ
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