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peachhcs · 20 hours

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something funny?

so high school au (emma grace x gabe perreault)

advanced french 2 and econ don’t mix. gabe has no idea what’s going on, but luckily emma does!

2.1k words

wooo first real fic of the au!! this was actually so cutie to write and if anyone has any requests/ideas for emma and gabe pls send them in! :))

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emma's gaze slid towards the dark-haired boy sitting beside her furiously scribbling down work for a class that most definitely wasn't for advanced french 2. the graphs and tables for sure screamed economics or something similar because she remembered very well doing those a few months ago before she graduated.

the blonde tore her eyes away from his work and tried focusing on the lecture at hand, but for some reason she just could not pay attention no matter how hard she tried. all emma could think about was the amount of work she needed to do once class was over while praying that a table was open somewhere in the library.

god knows everyone's trying to get ahead before the semester quite literally devours them. the professor started leaving her desk to mill about the classroom while she spoke and the boy beside emma hadn't even looked up once—too focused on econ.

the other thing was that emma was feeling gracious today, so she nudged the boy's leg so he'd at least look like he was paying somewhat attention when their professor walked by. his gaze shot to hers and emma just motioned towards their professor about to breeze right past them. gabe's head snapped right and he immediately hid his econ papers as the lady walked by.

"if you're not paying attention next time she walks by, i'm not helping you out," emma whispered. gabe's eyebrows rose, amusement on his features.

"jeez, okay. didn't ask for help in the first place," the boy shrugged as he returned his focus to his other work. emma studied him for a few moments trying and failing on getting the graph right.

an uncontrollable giggle left her lips at the boy's poor, poor attempt. his head snapped back in her direction, another eyebrow raised, "something funny?"

emma immediately shook her head despite the smile still tugging on her lips, "not at all."

"something must be funny if you're laughing," gabe sneered back. he's had a long day—being up since 6am for morning skate—and the last thing he needed was some girl he didn't even know making fun of him.

"i just think it's funny watching you do econ in an advanced french 2 class," the blonde shrugged lightly.

"it's not like i need to pay attention away. already know french."

emma blinked while the boy turned back to his laptop. why on earth was this kid in advanced french if he already knew french? "you already know french?"

"mhm. fluent in it, actually," gabe's cocky smile almost made emma wanna slap it off him.

"then why are you taking french if you already know it?"

"because i can and i want to. i think it's funny. do you know french already?" there went that stupid eyebrow raise again when gabe looked at her.

"i do, yes," emma mumbled.

"so why are you taking french if you already know it?" his little head tilt and stupid smirk didn't sit well with the girl. she didn't have time to respond though because the professor walked past their section again, eyes probably trying to find the culprits who were talking in class.

"see? didn't have to help me that time," god, he was insufferable already. maybe emma shouldn't have started interacting with him. life 10 minutes ago was a lot better than life now.

"don't you have time to do all this work later?" she didn't know what possessed her to keep talking, but something about this boy intrigued her as much as he frustrated her.

"not really, no. early morning skate then actual practice right after class. by that time it's late and i'm lazy," gabe shrugged and it all finally clicked for emma.

he was a hockey player. made sense now. no wonder why he never paid attention in class.

"don't you like get banned from playing if you don't keep up with your work?" emma didn't know that much about how sports worked here, but she knew if her brother didn't keep up with his classes, he couldn't swim.

"i keep up with my work, don't worry," gabe snipped a bit. this time emma raised her own eyebrow while trying to keep in another pitiful laugh.

"mhm, sure. tell that to your econ class."

the professor walked past their section again, definitely trying to catch emma and gabe whispering. the two watched her stalk by before heading towards the front again. the blonde's eyes were on gabe's homework again, working through the problem in her mind. she immediately saw his issue—he had the wrong numbers on his graph which messed up his calculations. it was an easy fix.

"your numbers are wrong," again, despite the boy's annoying attitude, she was still feeling gracious. her curiosity about him was too high not to help.

"huh?"

"on your graph. it's supposed to be by .02. that's why you aren't getting the right answers," emma pointed out briefly.

gabe studied what she just said and looked back and forth between his numbers and graph, slowly realized she was in fact right. "oh," he mumbled.

"next time i won't help you," emma smirked.

"not like i asked for your help in the first place," the hockey player mumbled as he started redoing his entire graph with the right numbers.

the two didn't talk again until the last ten minutes of class. gabe was still furiously working away on his econ homework while emma took occasional glances in his direction. she thought he was stupid for waiting until last minute to finish it, especially in another class.

he nudged her leg first this time and her gaze snapped to his, "hey. what else you know about econ?"

he probably had about ten more problems left with no finish in sight anytime soon. emma stopped another pitiful laugh wanting to escape her lips.

"a decent amount. why?" the girl raised her eyebrow.

"probably a long shot, but any chance you could help me out later? i really gotta finish this assignment it's already two days late and if i don't, coach will pull me," gabe almost begged, but his pride and ego were too big for that.

the look on his face and big, puppy dog eyes were hard to say no to for emma despite everything in her telling her no. she'd feel bad if she didn't, especially when his mistakes were probably easy fixes. if only she wasn't so nice sometimes.

"i can give you my number and you can text me. i'll be in the library for a few hours after class," emma motioned for his phone.

"really? you'll actually help?" gabe seemed surprised she said yes.

"i feel like i don't have a choice, plus econ is easy for me. you probably have stupid mistakes that are easy fixes," she started punching her number into the boy's phone.

"how long will you be at the library for?"

"i don't know. until 6?" a good three hours seemed like enough time for emma to grind out her three page essay.

"shit, i have practice then. any chance we can meet at like..9? i know it's inconvenient, but i don't have any other time," he was such a hard no. even if emma didn't know him nor did she even really care for him, she felt bad not helping.

"9 works. just text me," the blonde nodded.

a genuine smile painted gabe's lips as well as a somewhat relieved look, "thanks so much. i really appreciate it. i'm gabe by the way."

"emma," the girl smiled back.

—

man, she should've said no. emma didn't think he was coming. it was 9:15—fifteen minutes late—and no text or anything. she left to her dorm two different times and there was still nothing from the the boy. the only people in the library at this hour were her and the few who just didn't have a social life and completely studied their asses off at any second they got.

in some ways, emma was that person just a bit more dialed down. at least she didn't spend hours in the library.

she checked her phone again and nothing. a sigh escaped her lips because she really thought gabe cared a little bit somewhere inside of him to not completely flake.

when all hope seemed lost quick footsteps came up behind emma's table and suddenly, gabe's frame was beside where she sat.

"i'm so, so sorry i'm late. practice ran over and then my friends had to talk to me for..i'm sorry," his apologize was unexpected, but appreciated. emma managed a small smile.

"really thought you'd flake on me," she laughed.

"i was gonna text, but then i forgot. i'm sorry. i didn't mean to waste your time," gabe rambled on as he sat down and dug his things back out.

his rambling actually made emma feel a little bad, especially because he looked so flustered like he ran all the way here from the rink. "it's fine. don't worry about it. i'm here all the time anyway," she shrugged him off to not make him feel as horrible.

"i respect the pjs," gabe commented on emma's flannel pj pants and boston college swimming sweatshirt that was definitely tyler's that she stole.

"oh, thanks. had to be comfortable, you know?" the blonde flushed some. gabe nodded in agreement.

"i did a few more problems, but i'm still kind of..lost, i guess. i dunno. i don't really know how what i'm doing wrong," he pushed his paper towards her feeling semi-embarrassed he couldn't do what should've been simple calculations and graphing.

"let me see," emma pulled the paper closer. she scanned her his work trying to find what the issue could be.

"hold on, i get it. you're not multiplying the right things which i think is giving you the wrong numbers. trying going row x row," emma instantly saw what was wrong.

gabe did as told and five minutes later, everything made a lot more sense than it did before.

"oh, i get it now. i was calculating wrong," he mumbled.

"see? easy fix. the other answers should make sense now," emma nodded, smiling.

"how are you so good at this? i feel like i'll never truly learn econ," gabe's gaze met hers again briefly before they both looked away.

"oh, i don't know. i've always been good at like math and stuff," doing math had always been emma's strong suit. growing up her friends always went to her when they were stuck on a problem.

"i wish i had that kind of talent. it's never made any sense to me," the boy mumbled, smiling successfully after completing all the other problems. "does this look right?"

emma glanced the page over, nodding, "yeah, looks good. the graphs are the hardest part i think because if you don't get those, everything's wrong."

"thanks, i appreciate the help. sorry again for being late," gabe met her gaze again—his eyes looked flushed and tired like he hardly ever slept. that feeling of pity returned in emma's stomach the longer she stared at him.

"it's no problem, really," her lips pushed together into a small smile.

"do you think i could text you again whenever i need more help in the class?" the boy wondered as he packed his things back up.

emma studied him again. those books about the athlete looking for help from the smart, quiet girl was seeming a little too real at the moment. the look on gabe's face though said otherwise like he wasn't trying to mess with her. he looked genuinely interested in the help she could provide him.

"why don't we like meet every other day or something and i can like tutor you. maybe help you understand the class a bit better?" the girl suggested which honestly sounded crazy coming out of her mouth because did she really have time to be tutoring this hockey player? apparently.

"like for real?"

"yeah like for real," emma laughed.

the smile on gabe's lips reappeared when he realized emma wasn't joking with him, "o-okay. yeah, thanks. i'd appreciate that. is it okay if we meet at 9 then? i would do earlier but i like don't have time."

"yeah, 9 works."

"i promise i'll try not to be late, but i can't promise it," the two shared a laugh.

"don't worry about it. see you in class then?"

"yeah, see you," her and gabe left the table together, giving slightly awkward waves to one another as they went in different directions to leave.

it was safe to say both of them didn't stop thinking about the other all night.

#gabe perreault x fem!reader #gabe perreault x oc #gabe perreault #so high school au #emma grace cooper #emma grace x gabe perreault #gabe perreault fluff #gabe perreault hockey #gabe perreault imagines #gabe perreault imagine #bc hockey #bc eagles #boston college #boston college hockey #boston college hockey imagine #new york rangers #ny rangers #boston college imagine

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steakout-05 · 2 days

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it's so funny seeing the negative fan reactions to Jax being even more of an asshole than he was in episode 1. like first of all, how can you not enjoy his dickhead antics and growing frustrations at the things that aren't allowing him to be a dickhead 100% of the time. i think it's really entertaining to watch him be a complete jackass to everything and everyone! and second of all, i feel like this is an effect of twitter fandom kiddies always praising a character who's a perfect angel or a "bad boy but he's bad in a good way..." character and deeming characters "immoral" as soon as they do something bad. as soon as that character they attached themselves to isn't what they thought they were, they get super mad about it, even though Jax hasn't really changed at all since episode 1. it's like seeing Jax have more opportunities to be an utterly selfish and destructive asshole put them off from the character entirely because "ohh he's mean now". it's so weird. like god forbid a character has flaws or does objectively horrible things that makes them more entertaining /sarc.

it's kinda like the whole discourse surrounding Pomni "abandoning" Ragatha in the pilot. a lot of people were deeming Pomni to be a terrible character because she did something that could be perceived as "morally incorrect" when 1. she was scared and confused out of her mind and practically in survival mode the entire time she was there, 2. she literally just met Ragatha a while ago and wasn't in the right place to properly prioritise anything but her own survival, and 3. characters are allowed to do """immoral""" things because it's interesting, it makes them more complex and it drives the plot. oh yeah, and they're not real!!! they can't hurt anyone!!! it's so confusing how people will see a character with flaws and then get so enraged about how immoral they are, while completely missing the point as to why a character has flaws in the first place.

i just find it funny how people saw Jax in the first episode, visualised a bad boy version of him in their heads and then got super mad when he was even meaner deliberately in the second one and isn't exactly what they wanted him to be. like you guys just pulled a full 180 and went from loving him to despising him in and instant. characters will have something deserving of a character arc and twitter fandom kiddies will become livid about it.

by the way, i thought Jax being even more of an asshole shined a brighter light on his troubled nature. like,,, to me it seems Jax's asshole-ish attitude is kind of a mask for deeper insecurities, especially when you see his face soften during Kaufmo's funeral, before quickly replacing it with anger and walking away. i think he's grappling with some heavy shit and trying to hide it behind a troublemaker attitude and constantly causing chaos and destruction to distract himself. i think that's why he got so angry and frustrated during the second episode, because he couldn't always have his way. he's definitely hiding something. whether it has something to do with Kaufmo, his situation or both, i wanna see what happens and what's going on with him.

personally, i want Jax to get worse, because it would be a very interesting look at how he deals with the circus compared to everyone else. i want him to get so aggressive and asshole-ish that he does something he deeply regrets (in reference to what a tweet from Gooseworx teases). to me, the biggest allure of TADC is the way the characters react to what's going on around them. each character has such a different way of coping with everything and i think Jax's way of coping, desiring chaos and death and destruction, would be an interesting look into who he is as a character. i want his harmful coping skills to drive him to a breaking point because hell yeah, character development!!! i want to see what makes the asshole into something closer to not really being as much of an asshole as he started out as.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #tadc ep 2 #tadc jax #honestly you guys will see a character having ugly flaws you can't romanticise and then throw a big tantrum about it /nbh #i hope jax becoming popular will make more room for more asshole characters in media because they're usually the most-#-complex ones to think about #jax kinda reminds me of scout from tf2 surprisingly. both are major dickheads and do objectively bad stuff to people but-#-it's clear they do have a soft side and a reason for why they're like that. and they're also generally just really entertaining :)#anyway yeah i think people hating on jax is stupid and silly and ridiculous. like boohoo how dare the purple bnuuy be mean waaah #fandom discourse #(also ps. i wasn't a jax simp before but watching him be a huge dickhead might change that pretty soon lmaooo)

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 3 days

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 32

MASTAPOST

Samson S. Skulker. Wealthy real estate owner, noted trophy hunter. Been on safaris in Botswana, Indonesia, India, and other countries taking big game. Guy hunted just about everything. Elephants, rhinos, tigers, elk, only to come to Elmerton Bay, just an hour away by boat from Amity Island.

It didn’t take two brain cells to figure out why. The better question was why Phantom tried to point webbed fingers at him as to the whereabouts of Danny Fenton, a move that was transparently (goddammit Dick and your puns) a lie, according to Bruce. Tim Drake slipped into the man’s more private records without even trying.

Of course, getting the data out and parsing what it meant were two very different things. But he wasn’t trained by Batman for nothing. Skulker did make cursory attempts at hiding his electronic paper trail, but cursory was absolutely not enough to keep 13-year-old Tim out, let alone his current self.

Firstly, the man absolutely hunted more exotic, more illegal creatures. That much was clear. Borrowing some of Barbara’s programmes, Tim found the man travelling to much more remote countries. His little vacations coincided with missing persons reports around the same time.

Missing metas, to be exact. Each person with a power set dangerous to themselves and others. Each person having disappeared without a trace and then never to be found again. The picture Tim was building was getting grimmer.

Secondly, the man was buying parts. Robotics parts, to be exact. Engines, weapons systems, hydraulics. Many of them sourced from Vladco, the company founded by Vlad Masters, an old college friend of Jack and Maddie Fenton, who were the parents to the missing teenager of Tim’s current case.

But Danny Fenton did not have the meta-gene, a fact Tim confirmed after yet another concerning breach of privacy. He filed that detail away for later investigating.

Tim pressed a key, letting his programmes run while he got a coffee. Oh sweet delicious coffee. He had once distilled almost pure caffeine into a syrup. It was the most horrible thing he’d tasted in his life, but the buzz kept him up all night, that was until his heart started giving out. That was less enjoyable.

What was also less enjoyable was the revving motorcycle heading into the Batcave. Two motorcycles, in fact. Just as Tim’s afternoon was looking to be peaceful and quiet.

“Don’t fucking give me that, Dickwing!” Jason called out.

“I’m fine, Jay, maybe you need to stop hovering over me like some mama bear.” Dick put down his helmet with maybe a little too much force.

Jason hopped off his own bike. “That’s bullshit and even Timbit knows it.”

Tim shrunk into the Batcomputer’s chair. He so did not want to be a part of this. He just waited for his older brothers to carry their argument out of earshot, like they had been doing regularly now. The men traded strong words with every footstep across the cave.

“Maybe I’m just a little high strung. It’s honestly nothing.”

“You literally cannot fucking say that when I saw you going full-ass Punisher five minutes ago. Like the traffickers yesterday were one thing. Those guys suck. This dude was literally just a mugger. Are you going out of your fucking mind?”

“Jason, I thought you were supposed to be the one who’s all for going full Punisher style?”

Jason groaned loudly, and then transitioned into a frustrated scream. “Do you even hear yourself?!”

The changing room door slammed shut.

That was the second argument in the last two days. If you told Tim that Mr Heads-in-a-Duffle would be lecturing the Golden Child over excessive force, he’d start working on a machine to send you back to the topsy-turvy alternate dimension you’d come from, but apparently his dimension was the topsy-turvy one the whole time. And he hated it.

Turns out Dick inherited more from Bruce than he liked to admit, including his awful coping mechanisms. And to be honest, he was way too tired to even begin to breach this subject.

He should be happy that his literal attempted murderer was going to be out of his hair for a good while, maybe even forever. But even entertaining the thought made him sick enough to avoid the topic in his head for hours, only to think about it again, and get himself sick again.

So back to Skulker it was. Joy.

It turned out his new friend Skulker had made himself a fucking Iron Man rip-off suit, capable of flight, diving, and packed to the gills with fuck-you bazookas, machine guns, and hydroplasm weapons. Hydroplasm guns that he’d sourced from the Fentons themselves, through a long and complicated chain of buyoffs.

And happy day, the man was kind enough to install cameras and microphones, and kept logs from both.

In a surprising twist, it was fiendishly difficult to hack into those logs. Tim was honestly beginning to sweat. He suspected Skulker’s friends at Vladco (namely Vlad Masters, the sleezeball. Tim never liked him at galas and this only cemented his low opinion) had some secrets that they didn’t want out.

No matter, it was only a matter of time. Tim continued typing.

And typing.

What the hell was this firewall?! Tim pinched his arm just to make sure this wasn’t a sleep-deprivation hallucination. He could’ve sworn he’d gotten through that layer of security. It was like it was shifting itself to cover up his progress and force him to start over. Almost like it was alive.

Against the thunderous backdrop of his brothers’ clashing voices, Tim set himself on overdrive. If he could just act faster than it could correct itself, then maybe, maybe.

A plain error message informed him of the results long after he’d already seen them. Tim kicked the table for good measure. The only thing he could extract was two frames of video footage. They showed, respectively, a T-shirt and pair of sneakers that matched what one of the missing metas was wearing when they were last seen.

Was it damning evidence? Absolutely. But it also proved to him absolutely nothing that he wasn’t already suspecting, nothing that could point him in a new direction. Still, it made his stomach churn. He hoped those people would get a better second chance beyond the grave.

Maybe the fact that the data was this well-hidden at all proved something.

The locker room door swung open, his brothers in civvies and glaring at each other, trying to appear civil in front of (right behind) Tim, even though they’d literally just been shouting at each other ten minutes ago.

“Timmy!” Dick called out. “How long have you been awake?”

Tim gestured offhanded to his pile of only two used mugs. “Not long enough. I’m still working. Can you take it upstairs please?”

Jason huffed, and stalked off upstairs without a word, probably too disgusted to be in his and Dick’s presence much longer.

Dick clasped his hands. “It’s fine, Tim. Honestly. Jason and I are just having a little, err, disagreement, is all.”

“Hm.” Tim inputted another set of commands. He was starting to see why Bruce liked to say that now. Avoiding painful emotions felt so good. Dick made a pained noise.

“Well, ok. I’m just gonna head back to Bludhaven now. Say hi to Alfred for me! And contact me if you need anything!” And then he sped off.

Tim shook off the awkwardness like old clothes. Thank goodness for some peace and quiet again. Maybe that was why he was working so hard to help Bruce get the demon child back, so he could return to the status quo, and not this. This hell reality where Dick was as emotionally constipated as Bruce and Jason was the one acting as the voice of reason.

The first night when Bruce called home, the entire family was in an uproar. Dick got a pale look on his face, and was halfway about to take the Batplane and go searching for Damian himself, only for Bruce to remind him that they were all still needed in Gotham and Bludhaven, and whatever few leads there were, Bruce would pursue. It was effortlessly logical, but it was clear Dick hated it. He stormed off in a rage that Tim had only seen when Ethiopia was fresh, when he and Bruce were at their lowest.

And Jason? He got this look on his face that he’d never, ever seen before. Tim had laid awake one night just contemplating it for ages.

Actually, no. He had seen it once before. It was Tim caught Jason looking into what Bruce was doing in the months after Ethiopia. Tim had subtly hacked the phone camera, and the look Jason had then was the same as how he looked when Damian was declared missing.

Tim shook his head. It was a gruesome image, what Bruce had sent them. Damian’s clothes ripped to shreds. The ground stained with his blood. No body in sight.

A little brother who may or may not be dead, something he may or may not be glad or sick to his stomach about. Brothers who were acting like completely different people, and a monster of a man who had to be connected somehow.

A ping appeared in the corner of the screen. The government siren hunting branch appearing in Panama?

Sam Manson sat up in her bed, her body finding some way to release the dread and tension. She looked on at her phone in horror and macabre fascination in equal parts.

This had Danny written all over it. She didn’t even need to hear the anchor confirming it to know.

On the one hand, she really wanted to applaud him for fucking them up this bad. The comment section was ripping into the GiW for their actions in Panama, treating the country like it was some vassal state they could romp around in. She personally screenshotted the fucking beautiful mass car crash the GiW had gotten into trying to catch him, and saved it into her favourites folder.

On the other hand, she really wanted to slap him for fucking up this bad. This could’ve easily gone wrong. Danny what were you thinking?! They could’ve got him that time!

And finally, she wanted to yell in frustration, because they had a radio communicator there. Goddammit! If only Tucker had known, they he could’ve hacked in and they could’ve talked to their best friend and actually got an update on what the fuck was going on.

And finally, finally for real, she was so glad, because the GiW would’ve announced it on every news channel if they’d actually managed to catch him. Thank fucking goodness.

Ugh, this headache. She really needed to lie down again.

Knock, knock knock knock knock, knock knock.

Dread pooled in her stomach. “Come in,” she said, resigned to her fate.

Grandma Ida, the person she least wanted to see right now, opened the door. She was the kind of woman who never carried herself very seriously, except for in matters of sorcery, and especially when warning Sam on the dangers of her craft. Dangers that Sam had ignored in order to go all out. Now she marched into Sam’s bedroom like an executioner.

Grandma stood at the foot of Sam’s bed, scanning her closely. “I knew I smelled tinged blood.” She went up to the side, and palmed Sam’s forehead. Her hand was freezing cold to the touch. “You should’ve called me immediately.”

Sam averted her eyes. She should’ve, but she didn’t.

Her parents never failed to get a rise out of her; she rejected their notions of female beauty and social etiquette in every way, their attempts to hook her up with Tim Drake-Wayne, then Damian Wayne, and she hadn’t cowed to them or submitted since she was ten. But with Grandma’s withering disapproval, she couldn’t feel more like a child if she tried.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“I warned you many times of the risks, Sammy. You’re lucky to be here, and not in the hospital or worse.”

“I know.”

Sam moved to lie on her side, facing away from Granny. Granny had questioned her decision to fight alongside Danny, but allowed it under the condition that she did so safely, and turning your body into a popping water balloon, but with blood, was so not the definition of safe.

And Danny’s fate was still in question regardless. He wasn’t able to cross Panama, and who knows what Damian was doing. What if it was all for naught?

A hand was put on her shoulder. “Did you accomplish what you were set out to do?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

“And was it worth it?” Yes. Absolutely yes. Danny bled every day for this god-forsaken town of ingrates. He’d bled for her mistake six months ago.

Granny seemed to understand her feelings. She nodded, and ruffled Sam’s hair, and the tension in Sam’s body drained away.

“Then I trust your judgement. Can you sit up? I’ve brought some more medicine for you.”

Sam pushed herself against the bunched-up pillows at the headboard. Her head spun from the motion, but she was never one to let her body’s limits confine her. “Thank you, Bubbe. I love you.”

Granny passed her a brew of herbal medicine, dozens of dried spices and mushrooms brewed together into a blackened sludge that felt like knives into your tongue, but which never failed to get her feeling better. It was a leg up from what big pharma tried to pedal for ten-fold the price.

Sam lifted up the mug to her face. And, oh yeah. Nothing like bitter liquid pain to help with a migraine. She let the hot tea flow over her taste buds, pathing them in cinnamon, star anise and a million other things.

She finished her tea in one satisfying gulp, running her tongue over her teeth and scratching out the lingering aftertaste. As she put the mug down, it revealed Grandma’s face hovering right in front of her. Sam yelped in shock. “Bubbe! You gave me a heart attack!”

Bubbe smiled devilishly. “So what did you do?”

Sam’s mouth gaped open. Leave it to her Grandma to almost kill her from emotional whiplash.

“Now come on, this is a monumental moment for a budding young sorceress like yourself. Why, when I was twenty-two, I used to run with some heroic types myself. We had all sorts of hijinks together.” Bubbe cackled and clasped her hands, eyes going wispy. “My friends got a heart attack when I pulled off my own hare-brained scheme to topple the evil overlord of the week’s central command. Hah!”

“What?!” Then Sam coughed, and lowered her volume. “What do you mean ‘heroic types.’ You just told me you went to some stuffy academy and eloped.”

Bubbe shrugged. “I did do that. Must have forgotten the extra stuff.”

Sam blinked.

She moved to sit beside Sam on the bed. “We got up to a lot of fun back in the day, and a lot of pain too. I did what I did to protect those I cared for. Did you, bubbeleh?”

She held Sam’s hand with a look that reminded her just how many years Grandma had lived, and how many adventures or stories she had yet to tell, how much heartache she’d had to endure to become the woman she was now. “I projected an illusion all the way off the coast of Panama. It hurt like nothing else in my entire life, but…” She paused. “We got Phantom out. He’s safe now, I think.”

Grandma Ida nodded solemnly, the kind of understanding that Sam craved from her parents every waking moment of her teenage career.

“I don’t want this to be a regular occurrence, ok?”

“Yes, I promise. This was an extreme circumstance.”

“Good. Now, are you well enough for some meditation? It would do well to keep your soul energy flowing.”

Ok, but you have to tell me what you got up to back in the day.”

Granny chuckled, and agreed to it. Sam kicked off her covers, letting her legs get some fresh air. She was probably pushing it, but she needed to recover as quickly as possible. Who knew when she would be needed again?

Maddie Fenton kneeled in the sand. Her hands clamped down on her gun. Her knees shook. Tears prickled in her goggles.

Her baby was right there. He was so close. So fucking close. She could almost touch him, even now.

And he ran away from her. And at first her heart shattered into a million pieces, just like it had when he’d come home after his first disappearance and flinched when she hugged him.

Then she realised. He was protecting her. Some metal menace was shooting at her defenseless son like it was some kind of sick game. The monster of a man had laid fucking landmines on a public beach.

It should’ve been her protecting him.

Bruce Wayne returned to her side, empty handed. They’d scoured this entire beach. Danny couldn’t have gone far, she had thought, only for their search to turn up with nothing.

That left only one option. That her enemy doubled back after fleeing, and snatched Danny up without either her or Bruce noticing. Maddie’s heart sank. She should’ve aimed for the head.

A name pinged in her mind. Phantom had whispered it to her. Skulker.

With nary but nod, she and Bruce mounted their jet skis again.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #mermaid au #angst #danny phantom #tim drake #mer!danny #mer!damian wayne #mermay #mermay 2024

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coryothesub · 3 days

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Can you do a Snowjanus smut where Coryo is being a brat and Sejanus puts him in his place, pretty please 🥺

Dommy Sejanus is so damn hot sjfislaidjsdfh thank you so much for the ask I guess you can tell that I really enjoyed writing this (always down for sejanus/snowjanus asks btw)

nsfw / mdni / sub!coryo / dom!sejanus

“You're not gonna tell me how to feel just because you're some fine looking district boy. You're still just a district boy, Sejanus!” Coriolanus gave his friend a spiteful look as they walked into an empty room after the reaping ceremony.

Coriolanus had enough on his plate already, not getting the Plinth prize and being assigned to mentor that crazy singing girl was already enough to make him frustrated. And the last thing he needed was this spoiled rich boy moralizing about the cruel nature of the hunger games for the millionth time.

Sejanus was caught off guard by Coryo calling him fine looking during a fight, what did it mean? It sounded so bold and challenging, almost flirty.

“Just go back to your daddy and cry about your impossible hardships, I'm sure he will find a way to bail you out of this just to stop your endless whining,” Coriolanus continued to push his buttons, he was clearly testing his limits.

“Shut up Coriolanus!” Sejanus clenched his fists. He was not having any of this.

“Why don't you make me then!?” The blonde man was now dangerously close, giving Sejanus an arrogant look as he could literally feel his hot breath on his face.

Okay, either he was truly delusional or were there indeed some sexual undertones.

A cocky smirk appeared on Coriolanus's face, he was clearly throwing down a challenge.

In a split second Sejanus grabbed Coriolanus by the hair and pushed him down on his knees, shoving his face towards his crotch. To his surprise, Coryo didn't even try to put up a fight, Sejanus's heartbeat raised as he felt Coryo's hot breath through the thin fabric of his pants as the blonde boy was fighting for air under his firm grip.

When finally let go, Coryo's face was flushed and his chest heaving. He looked up at Sejanus and he seemed unusually pliant and willing. Sejanus finally connected the dots in his brain.

“You like this, huh?”

Coryo licked his lips in reply. He was so responsive towards his friend’s dominant behavior.

Sejanus unzipped his pants and took out his half hard cock. It was handsome, thick and veiny. Coriolanus felt saliva pooling up in his mouth at the sight alone.

Sejanus chuckled softly, noticing the pure lust in his friend’s eyes.

“So you’ve been such an asshole because you wanted this all along…”

Coryo realized he was far past the point of pretending so he just nodded faintly. Eager to have a taste of the dark haired boy’s cock he moved closer, but Sejanus pushed him away. A devilish smirk appeared on his face.

“Beg for it!”

“Please Sej,” Coryo looked up at him, batting his eyes innocently. “I need to suck your cock.”

“Good boy!”

Sejanus was still grinning, he gave Coryo a few dickslaps and teased him, brushing his tip against the blonde's lovely pink lips.

“God you look so pretty like this, now take it!”

Coryo started sucking avidly, it was his first time sucking off a guy, but Sejanus just seemed to fit so perfectly in his mouth.

He closed his eyes and found his own cock, wrapping his hand around it.

“Nuh-uh, keep your hands to yourself! Don't remember allowing you to touch yourself…”

Sejanus's voice was now low and husky, his words went straight to Coryo's cock and the poor boy whined around his friends dick. He almost couldn't believe Sejanus could be this cruel.

“If you want to cum, better be good!” Sejanus kept teasing.

Coryo kept quiet since his mouth was full of cock, he flattened his tongue and hollowed his cheeks, bobbing his head up and down just like he had seen in adult movies.

“Mmmm…” Sejanus cooed. “Look at you, Capitol boy, sucking district cock so nicely. Such a slut for me huh…”

Coryo's felt his cheeks filling with red, this was so humiliating. But somehow he liked it so much. He looked up at Sejanus, his pink lips swollen and eyes fluttering.

“Such a pretty little whore,” Sejanus praised him, letting his fingers wander in Coryo's blonde curls.

He thrusted his hips forwards, making Coryo's body tremble as he gagged around Sejanus's thick member. He was so achingly hard now, yet he didn't dare to disobey his friend.

Holding Coryo's head in place, Sejanus started thrusting his hips back and forth, fucking Coriolanus's throat. Gobbling sounds filled the room as Coryo tried to hold steady, feeling his friend's tip hitting the back of his throat.

Sejanus saw small streams of saliva dripping down from the corners of Coriolanus’s mouth as the blonde man's eyes were welling up with tears, but it made him even more vicious in his burning wish to show that hot little Capitol brat his true place.

He fucked Coryo's face relentlessly overwhelmed by the feeling of the blonde's warm wet mouth bringing him closer to the edge.

“Oh fuck Coryo, such a good…” the sentence was cut off by a deep groan as Sejanus came hard, thick ropes of cum shooting down Coryo's swollen throat.

“You did good Coriolanus, so good,” Sejanus gently wiped tears off Coryo's cheek as the blonde boy was trying to steady his breath.

“Please, can I cum now, Sej?” Coryo pleaded looking down at his painfully hard member, his voice sounded soft and broken from the relentless throat fuck session he had just experienced.

“Come here, baby!” Sejanus said gently as he helped Coryo back on his feet.

“Gonna make you cum now…”

He wrapped his big hand around his friend's cock, causing Coryo to let out a desperate moan. It took less than a minute of Sejanus jerking him off at a rapid pace, their lips pressed together in a passionate kiss.

Sejanus's tongue exploring his mouth combined with his firm grip around his throbbing cock pushed Coryo over the edge and he moaned against Sejanus's lips cumming hard and shooting out a stream of hot cum all over his friend's hand.

“You were being a fucking brat on purpose, weren't you?” Sejanus chuckled softly as they both were coming down from their heights.

“That is an information I can't disclose” Coriolanus replied flirtatiously.

“But I can promise you one thing, Plinth. It will happen again.”

#thank you for the ask #coriolanus snow #young coriolanus snow #sejanus plinth #coriolanus x sejanus #coriolanus snow x sejanus plinth #snowjanus #thg #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #thg tbosas #blurb #cts ask

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very-straight-blog · 1 day

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In light of that wonderful expo, which gave us so much TGC content, can I just say that Aegon's "I've done everything you ask me to... and I try so... I try so hard, but it will never be enough" line would've hit harder (TGC's acting was so fucking good tho) if hotd would bother to show us scenes (just flashbacks, literally anything) of a young Aegon doing anything, from his studies to his training and showing off his talents/knowledge by trying to interact with Viserys and doing anything to get his attention but seeing/realizing that Viserys was never interested in him no matter what which would kick off his spiral to alcoholism and the frequent ventures to flea bottom (and finally see his book traits of being a sullen boy) and eventually becoming lazy. Instead, they included some dumb af scenes that serve no purpose other than shock factor or trying so hard to be got. They were so allergic to giving/having sympathetic scenes for the greens that some even hated the idea of Aemond being bullied instead of being the bully. Like, I laughed at the praise the show gets when it clearly suffers from so much "telling everything to the audience" instead of letting the audience come to a conclusion by describing the events and actions. BUT, then again, seeing as most of the reaction to Alicent being maritally raped, Aemond being bullied, Aemond claiming Vhagar (and literally losing an eye), and Alicent snapping in Driftmark was clearly so different, never mind lmao. But, that's just my opinion lmao. Sorry for the rant, I've been thinking about it lately but do get ready, just in case some get pissed at this lmao.

Feel you! I even had a big post on this topic - here. I won't repeat myself, but yes - there's a huge problem in the series with describing things instead of showing them. If we talk about Aegon - literally everything we know about him - we know from his words or the words of other people, and this is very annoying, especially considering the difference between what others say about him and how we see Aegon on the screen. Tom plays a depressed alcoholic with mommy issues, who makes vulgar jokes and has some dildos on the bedside table. This is his maximum. We're even shown his disgust at the sight of cruelty - I wrote about it here. However, other characters describe him as a rapist prone to sadism. What? Who wrote this script? I think about it quite often and I get terribly angry every time. Aegon was an amazing character in the book - interesting, dramatic, but in the series all the positive qualities were taken away from him, even in those scenes that we see - like the fact that he wants to escape, while in the book he agreed to accept the crown to protect his family. It's all incredibly frustrating.

#ask #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #team green #pro team green #hotd critical #opinion

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fujii-draws · 29 days

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OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.

#okay starting from the beginning of where ppl usually dislike him. apple woods chapter.#he doesn’t give hero/partner the CHANCE to explain themselves despite them being relatively good recruits up until that point.#and that legit might be my only gripe with that chapter bc!!! stories need conflict! I LIKE the conflict in apple woods!!!#hero and partner being punished so something they didn’t do!#the misunderstanding! how team skull (Skuntank) actually outplays the main duo with a clever yet rotten trick. I LOVE that it segways into-#one of the more sweeter scenes of guild members looking out for eachother. I LIKE APPLE WOODS CONFLICT.#but chatot just. not giving them a chance. is so dumb.#I’d personally fix this by having a lil montage of hero/partner fucking up on jobs. A LOT. and chatot giving them a pass every time.#and let the perfect apple incident BE the one where he puts his foot down and doesn’t listen to them. bc he’d given them loads of chances.#and doesn’t want to hear any excuse.#but yeah. I legit dont mind him during that chapter except for that really stupid and frustrating moment.#NOW. CHAPTER 17.#UGGGGHHH WHERE DO I BEGIN #Him not believing hero and Partner about Grovyle and the future being in ruin? FINE. ACTUALLY GOOD. BC CHATOT WOULD BE SKEPTIC.#IT FITS HIS CHARACTER!!#BUT WHAT DOES SUCK. IS HIM GOING ‘Dusknoir isn’t the bad guy. he didn’t do anything wrong’#WHEN HE LITERALLY KIDNAPPED HERO AND PARTNER RIGHT I N F R O N T OF HIM.#(NO LITERALLY. HIS CHARACTER IS IN THE FRONT ROW WHEN IT HAPPENED.)#and him. having the GALL to tell hero and partner they must’ve been ‘seeing things’ and downplaying the HELL they went through.#despite them being missing for hours/days. his own guild recruits. and his angry sprite showing up.#like. I think that’s when I genuinely despised him.#that and him going ‘OH I BELIEVED YOU THE WHOLE TIME HEEHOO :)’ shit was so fucking annoying.#just playing it off as a joke the second the guild started to believe hero and partner.#IMAGINE IF HE W A S ACTUALLY TESTING THE GUILD’S TRUST. SHOWCASING HIM AS THE MORE RESPONSIBLE AND RESPECTFUL RIGHT HAND OF THE GUILD.#and yes. Brine cave he saves hero and partner. but at that point I just didn’t care anymore.#he fucked those two over so much. that I didn’t care what ‘valiant’ sacrifice he had.#and he grills Team Skull for what they did OFF SCREEN. they couldn’t even give us THAT.#<<< THAT or him outright saying sorry would’ve been nice. IKIK his ‘actions’ or whatever but.#eughh again this is all imo. I’m not trying to make people hate him or change their mind.#I’ll get into positives in the second post cause I’m running out of tags

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mediapen · 2 years

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for anon: carlos, with his life split into two halves. how life feels cut when a major event occurs — before and after — maybe before and after silverstone ‘22?

[x] // richard siken, ‘straw house, straw dog’ // richard siken, ‘unfinished duet’ // [x] // jenefer shute, life-size // [x] // liz bowen, sugarblood // ethel cain, ‘strangers’ // warsan shire, ‘to swim with god' // the smiths, ‘paint a vulgar picture’ // richard siken, ‘saying your names’ // [x] // [x] // [x] // rainer maria rilke in a letter to lou andreas-salomé // phoebe bridgers, ‘garden song’ // [x] // [x] // r/Games // bhanu kapil, the vertical interrogation of strangers // [x] // [x] // [x] // [x] // cota, 2022 // [x] // clementine von radics, 'the fear.’

#carlos sainz jr #web weaving #cs55 #cs #m #i hope... this fills the prompt.#wanted to explore like. fulfilling the highest-stakes dream imaginable which you've worked towards for literally your whole life. ofc theres #a bigger dream still unachieved (wdc) but how do you handle it when the weight of your most realistic achievable dream is lifted #do you try to let it carry you? do you let yourself live in it for a little while? what if there's nowhere to go from here?#... what if you never get to feel like this again?#and THEN you immediately have the. like. most horrendous dnf a string of shit races ANOTHER horrendous dnf a FRUSTRATING dnf...#like how much do you want it now. what even is *it* any more. do you know. do you let yourself ask.#carlos is fascinating to me in ways i cannot will not speak on but i think like. he has an Awareness that he is willing to speak on that #nobody else is. and *i* wont speak on it because its real life but. anyway.#z #sorry for using the titsphoto in my defence. the concept of motorboating exists and we're clear on my feelings on it

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batsplat · 5 days

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Saturday afternoon I ran into Gibernau in the paddock. "I heard that tomorrow HRC are having a press conference," he said. "That's right, just after the race," I replied. "You'll say you're staying at Honda, won't you?" he asked. "No, actually. I'll announce I'm moving to Yamaha," I answered. I saw a flash in his eyes. First astonishment, then happiness. I could tell he had done some quick thinking and figured that it would only be good for him. He reckoned that I wouldn't do much on a Yamaha. I could read it on his face, just as I later could read it in the faces of so many other people who doubted me and my choice.

Valentino Rossi in his 2005 autobiography, What if I had never tried it

#valentino rossi #//#vr46 #sg15 #vale's autobiography is unsurprisingly circumspect about the details of that relationship and how and why it deteriorated #but the little details we get are so interesting #i think sometimes about how marc in late 2015 just would not shut up about how jorge was faster than vale but vale was 'doing his 100%'#and it's like... buddy omg. please stop. like i'd be pissed off too in vale's place quite frankly and i don't have quite that big an ego #vale always wanted to prove people wrong. endlessly aware of people's expectations of him. always willing to play with them to subvert them #literally he wanted to do 'call an ambulance but not for me' like that's one of his career go-to's. he loves being the comeback kid #it must be endlessly frustrating that he came so close to pulling off the greatest trick of them all and fell just a little bit short #i think you always have to be quite careful with him when you're talking about his 'desire to win' as if it's that straightforward or pure #of course he wants to win but it's also about what he's trying to SAY when he wins. what he's trying to do with it. what's the statement #it's what a lot of the celebrations are about at their core - sending a message. symbiotic relationship b/n victory + expressing identity #leaving to go to yamaha in 2004 was done with the full awareness that a title that year was unlikely. that it might take at least a year #if he stays at honda he sleepwalks to a title. but he just can't do it if he feels like the victory is being claimed + defined by others #ten is just a number. but when nobody thought you could claim it? then it's the most precious number of them all

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spaceshipkat · 29 days

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#anyone have the mommy issues where you’re constantly compared to your mom in a negative way #i raise my voice oh im just like your wife #i get frustrated oh im just like your wife #i get upset bc i do the very thing you’re asking for and /you don’t seem to fucking see it: and im just like your wife #how many times do i have to say ‘i am not mom’ before you fucking GET IT #i know where my mom is coming from when she talks to my dad #i don’t like it but i literally cannot change it #i know where my dad is coming from with how he behaves and talks to my mom #i also don’t like it but i cannot fucking change it #i am so tired of making an effort—what was once a conscious effort but now comes pretty damn easily #only for that effort to NOT exist the split second he gets upset #because what he envisioned us doing isn’t what happened #so instead of taking about it like an adult you fucking fester in your feelings and then dump on the very people #who are fucking TRYING to have a relationship with you #it’s a goddamn self fulfilling prophecy and i am sick of it. i am sick of constantly having to massage feelings.#i am especially sick of going to bed upset because i feel empathy for what he’s going through #and my best is apparently /not enough/ to make a dent #i am so sick of crying over this goddamn motherfucking shit #i want it to fuckijg stop i want fucking peace and quiet #and for that peace and quiet to not be tangled with worry because i am not there when i might be needed #is this part of being an eldest daughter i don’t fucking know #i am just so tired of my efforts not being seen. of them not making a difference. of them apparently not fucking mattering.#ignore me ill be fine i am just so fucking tired #i want to go to bed without guilt or empathy making it impossible to turn my head off #delete later

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lilnasxvevo · 1 year

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Jiang Wanyin’s two main love languages are acts of service and also yelling <3

#my boy…..#he’ll do anything for you from getting you a glass of water to literally sacrificing himself for you #but he WILL also be just so fucking rude to you #he’s not. really even doing it on purpose he’s just. ohhhh my god #50% of the time when he says something that comes across as REALLY Fucking Mean what he was actually trying to say was #‘I’m worried about you!! Let me help you!!’#but the words that actually come out of his mouth are like. ‘Stop fucking around and just come home you fucking jerkoff’#you know. that’s the gist.#which is why I LOVE that sangcheng Nanny comic where JC says #‘don’t you think you’re dressed inappropriately’#when he MEANS to say #‘don’t you think you will be cold dressed like that because. it’s cold outside’#(sub-subtext: I don’t want you to be cold!!!!)#but Huaisang is Normal (….kinda) and therefore interprets it as ‘you are dressed like a HARLOT you HARLOT’#like that’s just Jiang Cheng’s everyday life. he tries to say ‘I love you’ and the words that come out of his mouth are ‘Fuck odd’#*off #he’s just as confused and frustrated about it as you are!!!

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analyticallymindedaa · 1 year

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"i don't want him to be anybody but himself." "you sure about that?" "yes." "'cause i heard he told you how he felt and you bailed."

[...]

"the only thing that makes him worse...is you." "i know. why do you think i left?"

today on: i'm literally never gonna be not angry about how jemma was treated throughout s2

#like. this could have been her villain origin story.#tbh it looked like it was gonna be for a second there #but yeah going through the same traumatic event as your best friend and saving his life and trying to help him recover #right after he told you he was in love with you and wouldn't let her help when she tried #and leaving because everything you do seems to make things worse and hearing he's doing better while you're better #only to return and hear that he's been telling anyone who will listen that he told you how he felt and you bailed #still continuing to be treated. Not Great by said guy who says he's in love with you and preferred the hallucination of you he had #and gets frustrated with you when you try to literally do what he wants (to help him. to use you to talk through.)#(only for everyone to insist that you Must have feelings for him even when you continue to say you never thought of him that way)#only for him to ultimately have the attitude of 'if you won't date me i can't even try to be friends with you' p much the entire time #idk man! it'd be my villain origin story!#this is not a fitz friendly blog #every time i rewatch this show he grates on me more and more #(also to be noted: not just the way he is with jemma. the way he is with most characters.)#and like. i hated mack through most of s2 and then in s3 he became one of my favorites so like! i can change my opinions of characters!#just like how i used to love fitz and now i hate him lmao #several bad puns later – out of character.#idk i'm just gonna tag it as that for now #if u read these tags to this point you're the real mvp and i love you

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m-ayo-o · 5 months

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-> when the jjk men fuck the tightest girly around <3 tw# reader is small, unprotected sex, size kink, "fat" cock, tummy bulge, cervix fxcking +++++ reader's 🐱 is too small for them :( no sukuna bc i do not wish death upon the reader

18+ NSFW

Toji

Most women he meets are "tight" by his standards. He's used to it. He finds himself constantly dealing with complaints; too fucking big, it won't fit. But you... you're tighter. He knows he'll have to be careful. He rests his dick on your belly and just watches you panic for a minute. He looks at your body and how your legs are folded up and the way his hand seems to cover your whole midriff where he's holding you still. Your eyes dart down to his cock, that's just so... fat. He holds it in his hand and starts teasing you with the tip, sliding up and down, pushing you open. But he's just playing with you.

When you beg him just right he starts slotting himself inside while his predatory gaze fixes on your puffy lower stomach. You wonder why he's staring there so intently until you look down to see him sinking in, followed by the unmistakable rise of your stomach. Your eyes go wide. You've never seen anything like that before. He rests his hand there to feel himself and just gives you an arrogant smirk, loving your shocked reaction.

He leans in some more and your legs start trying to squeeze shut. He just gets all frustrated and mad that he can't stuff all his cock inside in one go, but he deals with it and sinks inside as far as you'll take him. Maybe he can get a nice cock ring to hug his base next time so he can get a little attention there as well. It feels wrong, not being balls deep inside you, but he knows he would literally tear you open if he got back any further.

"I'm not all the way in. Is that seriously all you can take? Pussy's so small, come here- oh, shit, tha's really the back, huh? Ok, ok, calm down, don't fuckin' cry, baby, I'll just sit nice and snug against you here- yeah, is that your cervix? It hurts? Look, there's still inches of me left, just let me have this, let me- ngh, don't tell me not to cum inside- I'll cum where I want, pretty girl."

Kento

It's your first time 'sleeping over' at his place and he's more fucking nervous than you. You've never even seen his dick before but when you unzip him while he's grabbing at his thighs trying to contain a moan you hold and squeeze him and he barely fits.

You're using two hands on his shaft and your tongue on his tip- now you can really see what you're dealing with your mouth is starting to water. You do your best to accommodate him with your mouth first, sucking only half his cock like some massive, thick lollypop. Then when he tugs at your hair and lifts you up onto his spread legs, you feel his sticky tip poking your cute pussy and you just have to try.

He lets you go down at your own pace as your body struggles with the circumference of his shaft. But he's getting in there, slowly, and he's groaning and sighing so beautifully you just have to keep going. You have to try to take him whole, but it just stops. You let out a squeal of frustration. But, to your pleasure, he just holds your back and starts moving his hips, guiding you over his massive member.

"Mmh- mm, fuck- both hands, honey, yeah- o-oh, your mouth, ah, is that the back of your throat, already? Okay, come up here, yeah keep your legs nice and wide- hold onto my shoulders, that's it. Mm, yeah, slower, slower, d-don't rush it, hah- ah, fuck! No, no, that's it you can't go any deeper, sweetie, don't worry please don't hurt yourself. That's enough. Good girl, let me do it now."

Satoru

This kitty got claws, and god damn he's gonna sink them into the fat of your ass when he's impatiently trying to get his dick in your cute little hole. He moans and cries and nearly pulls out to throw a fucking tantrum because he can't fit, but after scolding him and telling him you don't care how many inches he can get inside you his usual bravado returns. He holds the slim curve of your waist that just looks ridiculously tiny in his big hands and he just stares at where he's sinking in and out of you, getting your cream all over him.

He grabs your hair into a ponytail now, his thumb playfully slipping over your ass while he rails you with all he can give you and he starts to feel rather smug. Although he's not getting his usual treatment- a deep fucking that has sweet pussy juices of his lucky partner coating him right from base to the very tip of his perfectly curved cock- he is starting to enjoy the fact that he's just too long.

He's joked about it, sure, turning girls down, saying stuff like, 'you won't be able to handle me anyway, princess', or 'you should fuck my friend instead, his dick isn't as big'. But he didn't realise he'd ever actually find a girl so tiny that it just wasn't physically possible. It's not as if he needed an ego boost in that department, but he starts to enjoy the idea so much that he has to get his phone out to take a few pictures (that will definitely get a lot of use). Maybe he'll show Suguru, too, just to show off a little. But he really does need to get his whole cock coated, so maybe next time he'll try your ass.

"It won't fit!! Ugh, it's not fair, how come I ended up with the cutest most pretty girl who has the smallest puss- oh! Ok, I'm sorry, jesus! Don't take it so personally I just wanted to fuck you properly... tsk- yeah, at least you're all filled up, huh? Yeah? Oh, it really does feel good? Ok, ok fine let me fuck you like this I don't care- yeah, s'not my fault my dick is so big just- ugh, get on your knees, mmh- yeah show me that ass!"

Suguru

He tries to coax you open so gently and frowns like he's done something wrong, encouraging you as if he could expand the very walls of your vagina, as if he could relocate your cervix. He spits on your clit and rubs it around with his thumb in slow circles until you cream on him one more time and he sucks his teeth from that squeezing sensation that feels so much hotter because of how small you are.

And he's so fucking determined that it's his fault, but you know it's you, so you try to explain that it's all you can take and he almost doesn't believe you until he sees you wince in pain from where he's pressed against your cervix.

He looks so shocked and mesmerised, he has to pull all the way out and get his fingers inside you to check. His fingers are long and yes, they can reach close to the back too and you let out a little yelp at the familiar feeling of being filled. Two fingers. Two long, masculine fingers is all it takes and you're squirming and writhing around. He has to pin you down and sink his cock back in with new found urgency now, telling you to pinch at his nipples if you need him to ease up.

"Baby, baby shh, I know you can take some more, just- yeah, try to relax, let me open you up- mmh- maybe you just need one more, one more- that's it. No way? I can't get any fucking deeper? I- I've never fucked a girl with such a cute pussy- no it's okay don't say sorry, you're gorgeous- so fucking tight it's making me dizzy. Uh uh, no you won't just suck me off instead I'm going to fuck you stupid just don't let me hurt you, ok?"

hcs | m.list

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screampied · 23 days

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can you please please write manhandling & squirting w gojo :(

❤︎ ໋𓈒 telling your best friend satoru that you can’t make yourself squirt

warnings. fem! reader, manhandling, praise, fingering, talking you through it, rev cowgirl, dirty talk, squírting, mdni.

legs sprawled, toes all curled up, you were desperately trying to make yourself squirt. it’s never happened to you and you wanted to experience what it was like��you read through various erotic stories of how it feels way different than just your everyday ordinary orgasm. with your teeth softly digging against your bottom lip, your fingers gently rummage throughout and against your clit. after a while though, you end up sighing—on the verge of giving up before as if on literal cue, your best friend gojo opens the door.

“hey, is it any more . . oh! uh,” he’d murmur, walking in on you with your legs sprawled all open. gojo suppresses a giggle that was about to escape from his lips before he utters. “. . . should i come back another time? you seem busy.”

there was smugness dripping underneath his tone and you were far too aroused to feel embarrassed. “no,” you puff. “i need help, satoru.”

“yeahh you seem like it,” he snickers. running a hand through his hair, he hums to himself before his eyes avert towards your lazily slid to the side panties. “is that what you call fingering yourself?”

“. . . shut up,” you chastise, and his sly smirk only widens. gojo stares at you for a long while before inching closer towards you—plopping down beside you. the mattress jolts a bit from his weight and he cocks his head to the left in pure amusement. “i need help. i can’t … i can’t squirt.”

gojo sneers. “oh, you sure can. you just don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, angel, heh.”

he had such a smart mouth, the dramatically frustrated sigh that deserts past your lips was too adorable—in his eyes at least.

the way you were so dedicated to making yourself have a proper finish was so cute . . but you couldn’t, you needed his help—you wanted his help.

“hm but okay,” he shrugs with a cheeky grin, getting right beside you. gojo lightly grabs your wrist, peering at how you’d already soak two of your digits with sloppy amounts of slick before he titters. “aw, poor thing. these useless fingers just can’t do shit, huh?”

“just fucking help me.” you grouse at him, a pouty scowl ceasing against your lips firmly.

“fine, girl fine,” he rolls his eyes. “i’ll take it from here.”

and he does because once he starts to ‘help’ you, it’s in a way that has you merely speechless.

with your neck slightly whirling towards the left, you’re mindlessly bouncing up at down on his thick cock. you’re faced the opposite way, your back leans up against his chest. gojo holds you up with no problem, a brief squeeze on your thighs and you start to whimper at how close his fat tip thwacks against a particularly sensitive spot.

“f— fuckk, ‘toru,” you’d whimper out, feeling him reach the deep components inside of you.

so deliciously good, you felt a few droplets of your own saliva trickle past your lips as you slump back against him. “so deep, stuffin’ me f— full, ‘toru.”

“. . . hah,” he pants heavily, tensed abs flexing each time he drags you up and down. he’s treating you like a rag doll. you didn’t expect him to do all this, having you all up and down. although, who were you to complain—he was reaching every spot without an ounce of trouble. “guess i can reach better than those fingers ever could, hm angel?”

“y—yes, yesss,” you stammer, your voice all shaky, trembling on each syllable that you spat out. “satoru, harder. fuck me, f—fuckkk me.”

you repeat the same words out your spit-glossed lips. with such a firm grip, he’s making your hips slam up and down—such a rigorous rhythm…

you try to grind a bit against him but you only end up slouching against his bare chest. it was simply no secret, gojo was known to be lengthy, longer than thick when it came to his cock. every orifice, he makes sure to locate every spot inside of your gummy walls with the crown of his shaft.

gush after gush, you’re spasming on him and you make a cute attempt at grabbing his wrist, clammy hands piercing into his skin. “s-so good, more ‘toru. right there, pleaseee . . !”

“i got ya.” he huffs, warm breaths waft right up against your earlobe. he’s holding you in place, each time he bounces you up again and again.

your eyes do that cute thing where it rolls all the way back into your cranium. it’s cute, lewd . . but cute.

with your pretty pupils dilated, all you see is nothing but pure splotches of white. his cock’s buried so deep that you’re stuck in a trance, a trance you never wanted to escape from.

“. . . awww,” he purrs against your ear, a big hand softly cupping your chin. he feels some of your translucent spit pour down the sides of your lips before smearing it over your mouth with his thumb. “such a messy baby. you feel it comin’ don’t you?” he teases, nipping a kiss near your neck once you squeeze his wrist a tad bit tighter. “oh. you want me to hold your hand, is that it?”

“sato—ru,” you whine, a cute trembly voice making a special appearance.

but oh, the stretch…

it was so good simply divine.

each second is spent with gojo’s dick delving into your clenched walls. a syrupy ear ringing whimper snatches right out of your throat before you speak once more, “satoru, ‘toru, s—satoru.”

“hey, that’s me,” he grunts with a coy grin, feeling how well you clamp down on him—of course, he’d make a joke out of nearly anything. you’re like a bobbling doll, feeling your cunt squeeze him tight before within seconds, your thighs began to quaver.

with your legs quavering, it was as if a volcano was preparing to erupt. violently, your legs start to tense and you’re steadily pulsing and pulsing. something’s coming and it’s coming fast…

it had to be exactly what you were thinking. it felt a bit different though. pressure presses down against you and you feel gojo’s fingers intertwine with yours. “heh, you’re kinda dramatic, huh?” he teases—and right before he can give you another snarky reply, he brings your hips to an abrupt halt. teeth chomping down together, your jaw insignificantly tightens and you feel a certain sharp twinge for at least three and a half seconds.

“i- i’m about to s-squirt, ‘toru,” you warn him, and he nips another chaste kiss near the crook of your neck.

“nuh uh. you’re going to squirt, trust me. give it to me, yeah. grind against me ‘n just listen to my voice, mhm.”

his voice.. just the way he spoke to you in such a playfully deep tone was enough to make you finish on the spot.

gojo holds you still. he’s still buried deep inside. stuffing you fill of hefty inches before he brings a hand towards your swollen puffy entrance. “damn, she really is so fuckin’ sloppy,” he grunts, starting to maneuver slow circles against your pussy. he makes haste with it though, and your lips part before moaning once you even hear the evidence yourself.

squelch, squelch, squelch..

it’s loud, it rings throughout your ears—each time, it’s louder than the next. he’s so sloppy with it too, no shame whatsoever. gojo then drags a soft thumb down your slit that was just sopping. everything felt so fervent - the way he’d strum his fingers against your cunt, only to then give it a concise spank.

“s-satoru, fuckkk.” you’d gasp, leaning way back with your legs still sprawled, “i—”

“now—don’t be rude, angel. she’s tryna speak to me, let her do her thing, baby,” and he clearly referring to your dripping wet pussy. he continues, rubbing against your clit at a much more rapid speed now. your legs could barely hold themselves open. mouth twitching, you feel a rupture on the very brink of rippling out of you before his spanks against your pussy come again, and again, and again…

“sloppy girl with a sloppy … fuckin’ … cunt.”

his words get more raspy and degrading and he’s way too into it to pause. with a thumb slowly tickling against your spasming nub, he watches at you moan a shrieking whine before not even seconds later, it happens. you gush out, and it’s a lot to where you even dampen gojo’s lap. thankfully he was prepared, keeping a towel underneath you just in case you were a bit too much of a soaked.

and soaked you were, it felt so good that you didn’t even know what to say… more like, you didn’t know what to think.

your mind was blank, equivalent to an empty canvas. he’s so mean, whispering such filthy murmurs into your ear before he lets you ride out your orgasm.

wet, you felt that entire word right between your legs. gojo’s still playing with you, cock stuffing your pussy full to the very brim before he feels you bare around him.

“. . seeeee,” he pants, humming in a soft tune.

he squeezes your folds tighter just to hear that honeyed mewl rip from your sweet lips. he gradually pulls out and now you’re just laying back against his chest with the dumbest expression. “told ya you didn’t know what the fuck you were doing,” he chaffs before making you turn your neck, dragging you into a deep kiss.

it catches you by surprise, you connect your lips against his and that’s when he makes you fall back. you watch with glossy eyes before he then grabs ahold of chin with one hand, brushing it tenderly against your skin. “say ah, open that pretty mouth for me ‘n taste what a messy girl you are.”

you felt your heartbeat go straight between your legs. once you loll out your tongue for him, staring right into his bright cerulean irises, he stuffs your mouth with two fingers. the same fingers that were covered in nothing but your sweet wet arousal. “yeah, run that tongue around my fingers ‘n taste it all, baby.”

you moan, swirling your tongue alongside his digits before you briefly end up gagging at the tips of his fingers massaging against the very back part of your throat.

“good girl,” he whispers—pulling his fingers out real slowly, he does this purposeful. a sheeny trail of your glistening saliva follows out from your lips before he gives you another long kiss before departing. “now, let’s do it again. but this time,” he utters, making you lie back against your back. “i’ll make you squirt just from my tongue, angel. let’s make that cute squirt velocity a little stronger, hm?”

#★vegasbaby.#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 8 months

Text

call my name and i’ll come running ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.

word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight

a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.

“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”

satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.

usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.

but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found.

you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world.

and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.

“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”

satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing.

but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.

it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.

but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.

but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.

that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.

and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.

you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.

so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.

and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.

at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.

and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.

you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.

so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.

a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”

“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”

satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell.

so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.

”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”

satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.

he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.

he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy.

satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.

and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.

just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting.

all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?

(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)

satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now.

in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.

you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?

“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”

satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.

“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”

you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.

— and so the cup overflows.

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.

but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything.

so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room.

you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.

it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.

satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.

a moment passes.

then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.

satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.

(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)

he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.

satoru sighs.

he really pissed you off, huh?

(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)

it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.

and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad.

he just wanted to make you laugh.

was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.

more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.

he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.

it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.

he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?

satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.

your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.

everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation.

you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all.

and it only increases your growing frustration.

you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.

a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.

you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.

because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.

he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.

but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.

it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.

a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.

every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.

so that’s exactly what you do.

before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.

(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)

the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.

an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.

for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude.

— it doesn’t last, though.

“you alone?”

a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.

hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over.

oh fuck no.

great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.

in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.

“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.

at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.

but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.

god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?

thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.

“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.

in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.

how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help.

and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.

satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception.

you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.

so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.

back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself.

he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up.

you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.

entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.

with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible.

this time, however, he does falter slightly.

he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?

satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.

(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)

“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”

you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.

you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.

“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”

there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.

something is wrong, his senses alert him.

“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”

the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”

“where are you?”

satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot.

he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.

“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”

you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”

satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”

you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.”

the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”

“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.

“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.

“can you tell me what you see, baby?”

“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?”

satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?”

you blink.

of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before?

“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”

following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.

satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”

you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.

“yeah,” you gulp.

satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”

focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point.

you swallow a shaky breath.

“thanks, toru.”

a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small.

this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him.

but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.

so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.

the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared.

but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.

“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.

a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.

“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”

“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”

it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side.

(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)

“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”

you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.”

and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.

because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you.

and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.

(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)

but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.

the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.

and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away.

as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.

especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.

your eyes meet his.

with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure.

an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps.

you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.

satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.

he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world.

and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.

satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.

finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.

the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.

all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.

”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”

the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.

you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.

and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.

the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.

satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.

then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.

and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.

the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer —

but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.

and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —

satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much.

and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.

(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)

— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more.

so he’ll focus on you, entirely.

he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings.

his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.

satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.

your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.

you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable.

you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.

satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?”

his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.

squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.

”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”

there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.

you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

but you just can’t stop crying.

when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.

”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

satoru stills.

then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head.

his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.

(“you’re not even listening.”)

yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.

an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something.

it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.

next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.

because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are.

if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.

satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”

a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.

“i’m sorry.”

you blink.

for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.

”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.”

he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.

“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath.

he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.

”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.”

you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece.

“so please don’t cry.”

this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours.

your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.

”okay?”

such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.

he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained.

(he was so, so worried.)

blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.

so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”

satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin.

but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed.

(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)

now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.

all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.

you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.

“sure you’re okay now, baby?”

you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”

“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn.

your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.

you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?”

“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”

satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering.

so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately.

when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute.

“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.

satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.

the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.

“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star.

“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”

satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”

his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”

the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.

but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.

all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”

satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”

your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.

“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”

satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”

“still,” you pout. satoru giggles.

“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”

you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”

satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.

“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”

this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.

a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.

satoru notices, and gets an idea.

“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?”

when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.

so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his.

”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”

satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting.

your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what.

you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.

”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”

there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.

satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that.

so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.

he’ll always be there when you need him.

#NOBODY LOOK AT MEEEEE i was having a gojo moment ok.#i just think hes. the perfect man. a silly goofy princess 98% of the time but when u need him to be there hes so comforting n secure.#i Need him.#also obsessed w the idea of gojo only calling u ’honey’ when hes being particularly sincere like that does smth to me man.#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader

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