. ⋆ ♱ 𝔯𝔲𝔫, 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔥𝔦𝔡𝔢 ♱･˳ .

Rich boy gojo latest obsession: Spider woman aka you

Gojo Satoru was everything you weren’t. Wealthy, popular, and effortlessly charismatic, he ruled the school like a king. Girls wanted him, guys wanted to be him, and he basked in the attention without a care in the world. You, on the other hand, were invisible. Quiet, studious, and focused solely on your dream of becoming a mechanical engineer, you kept to yourself. You had no time for the drama or distractions of high school life—not that anyone tried to drag you into it.

For years, Gojo hadn’t even known you existed, too busy dating every pretty girl in school and living his high-society life. But you didn’t care. As long as you had your books, your love of science, and a clear path to graduation, you were content.

Then, everything changed the night you got bitten.

It happened as you walked home from the library, your bag heavy with notes and textbooks. A sharp sting on your hand made you pause, and when you looked down, you saw it: a spider, glowing faintly with an otherworldly hue. You brushed it off, thinking nothing of it at the time. But by morning, your entire world had turned upside down.

The changes were drastic, to say the least. It felt like you had the strength of five men combined. You could climb walls, stick to surfaces, and—most astonishingly—shoot webs. At first, it was chaos. You’d knock over furniture without meaning to, stick to walls by accident, and fire webs at the worst possible times. Balancing your new abilities with the demands of high school was a nightmare. And then there were your parents, who couldn’t understand why you suddenly seemed so…different.

Eventually, though, you got the hang of it. Slowly but surely, you found a rhythm. By day, you were the quiet girl no one noticed, slipping through the halls like a ghost. By night, you were Spider-Woman, swinging through the city, saving lives, and trying to make a difference.

One of those lives, unfortunately, was Gojo’s.

You’d saved him multiple times—once from a mugger in a dark alley, another time from a runaway car. Each time, you prayed he wouldn’t recognize you under the mask. But Gojo, being Gojo, became utterly and completely obsessed. He couldn’t stop talking about Spider-Woman. It was Spider-Woman this, Spider-Woman that. She was all he thought about, all he cared about. He’d defend her fiercely to anyone who dared criticize her, becoming your personal lawyer without even realizing it.

When the media started painting Spider-Woman as a delinquent—a vigilante who caused more harm than good—Gojo was furious. He went so far as to call his dad, threatening to sue the newspaper that ran the story. How dare they? Didn’t they know how much Spider-Woman sacrificed to keep the city safe? The idea of anyone tarnishing her name was enough to make his blood boil.

Then came the night at the nightclub. Gojo, carefree as ever, found himself cornered in a dark alley, moments away from being robbed. You swooped in, taking out the muggers with ease. But before you could leave, he stopped you.

“Wait!” he called out, breathless and his sky blue eye wide. “I… I just wanted to say thank you. For everything.”

For a split second, you hesitated. His voice, so familiar yet so different, made your heart skip a beat. But you couldn’t risk it—not with how obsessed he was. Without a word, you shot a web to the nearest building and disappeared into the night, leaving Gojo standing there, more intrigued than ever.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

The cafeteria buzzed with chatter as students clustered at their usual tables. Sitting alone with your tray of food and your notes, you tuned out the noise. Behind you, however, the loudest group in school had taken their seats—Gojo Satoru and his friends.

“Dude, I’m telling you—she totally recognized me,” Gojo said, his voice carrying across the room as he threw his hands up in frustration.

“Satoru, you’re delusional,” Geto drawled, brushing his long hair behind his ear as he gave his best friend a look of pity. “You know how many people she saves, right? Why would she only recognize you?”

“Because I’m pretty, that’s why,” Gojo shot back, leaning uncomfortably close to Geto’s face, his striking blue eyes glinting with mock indignation. “Who could ever forget this face, huh? I’m too handsome.”

Geto blinked at him, unimpressed. “You’re beyond saving.”

“He’s right,” Shoko chimed in dryly from across the table, casually popping a fry into her mouth. “You need professional help, Satoru.”

But Gojo wasn’t listening. He leaned back in his chair, dramatically running a hand through his white hair as though to emphasize his point. “I’m serious, guys! She’s so cool—like, way cooler than anyone else in this school. I have to meet her. But she doesn’t have an agent or an email or…anything! How am I supposed to contact her? Ugh, it’s torture.”

“You’re not supposed to contact her,” Shoko replied, not even looking up from her fries.

“Wait, wait,” Gojo interrupted, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Do you think she’d date me if I offered her money?” He turned to Geto and Shoko, searching for validation.

The two stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Money? Really?” Shoko snorted, clearly unimpressed. “Satoru, she’s a superhero, not a gold digger.”

Geto sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, and even if she was into money, why would she pick you? You’d probably get robbed while on a date with her.”

“Hey!” Gojo huffed, crossing his arms. “She saved me multiple times. Okay, a lot actually . That means something!”

Shoko raised an eyebrow. “It means you’re really bad at staying out of trouble.”

Behind them, you fought the urge to roll your eyes. It was bad enough Gojo was obsessed with Spider-Woman, but to hear him talk about her with such unfiltered arrogance made your food taste worse. If only he knew how much effort it took to not acknowledge him during every rescue.

Still, you couldn’t deny the small flicker of amusement at the thought. Gojo Satoru, the most confident guy in school, practically pining over you without even knowing it.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

Gojo Satoru thought he was a genius. Actually, scratch that—he knew he was a genius. After all, if Spider-Woman was going to save him every time he found himself in trouble, then logically, he just needed to get into more trouble. That way, she’d have no choice but to keep saving him, which meant he’d get to see her more often.

“Wow,” he muttered to himself one day as he stared at his reflection in a classroom window. “I scare myself sometimes with how brilliant I am.”

And so, his master plan began. Every day, without fail, he’d find himself in increasingly dangerous situations. Whether it was wandering down shady alleys, conveniently “forgetting” his wallet in sketchy neighborhoods, or trying to provoke muggers by flashing his expensive watch in public, Gojo made sure to play the role of helpless rich boy perfectly.

And every single time, you were there. Swinging in at the last possible second, rolling your eyes behind your mask as you pulled him out of harm’s way.

For two weeks, this went on. Two excruciating weeks.

“Are you serious right now?” you snapped one night as you yanked him out of the path of an oncoming car he’d nearly walked in front of. “sir, What were you even doing in the middle of the street?” Your trying to make your voice deeper so he couldn't recognise it.

“Me?” he asked innocently, flashing you a grin that somehow managed to be both charming and infuriating. “I was just testing how fast that car was going. You know, for science.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “You’re unbelievable.” you whispered. You didn't want to talk to him too much and feed his delusion that he is somehow special to you.

“Thank you,” he replied, as if it were a compliment. “So, what’s your name? Your real name, I mean. Do you like movies? Dinner? Long walks in the rain?”

You ignored him, as usual, swinging away before he could say anything else. But Gojo was nothing if not persistent.

The final straw came on a rainy night after an already horrible day. You’d had a blowout argument with your mom that morning, and the weight of your double life was catching up to you. Your grades were slipping, exhaustion was eating away at you, and the constant pressure of keeping the city safe was unbearable. To top it all off, Gojo’s ridiculous antics were only making things worse.

So when you find him once again—this time standing at the edge of a rooftop of the hotel his rich father owns, "balancing practicing"—you snapped.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you shouted, storming toward him as the rain poured down. Your mask was soaked, and your voice shook with frustration and fatigue. “Do you have a death wish? Or are you just this desperate for attention?”

Gojo turned, his soaked white hair plastered to his forehead, and gave you that same infuriating grin. “Hey, Spider-Woman! Took you long enough. I was starting to think you didn’t care.”

You grabbed him by the collar and dragged him back from the edge, your patience completely gone. “Listen, rich boy,” you hissed, your voice trembling with anger. “I don’t know what kind of game you think this is, but I am not playing. You don’t get to make my life harder just because you’re bored or obsessed or whatever this is.”

For the first time, Gojo seemed taken aback. His grin faltered, and his usually sparkling blue eyes softened. “Wait, are you okay?”

You froze, caught off guard by the genuine concern in his voice. For a fleeting moment, the usual arrogance in his tone was replaced by something softer—something real. But the dam inside you had already broken.

“No, I’m not okay,” you admitted, your voice cracking under the weight of everything. “I’m also a human, you know. I get tired too... I—”

You stopped yourself mid-sentence, biting your lip hard enough to hurt. No. You’d already said too much. Letting him see even this much vulnerability was dangerous—too dangerous. You didn’t owe him an explanation.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you grabbed him by the arm and picked him up effortlessly, carrying him away from the edge of the rooftop. You set him down on stable ground, saying nothing as you turned to leave.

“Wait,” he called after you, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Okay? Please, just listen to me.”

You hesitated, your back still to him.

“I didn’t mean to make things harder for you,” he said, his usual confidence completely gone. “I was just... I thought I was being clever, but I wasn’t thinking about what it was doing to you. I just... I wanted to see you. To talk to you.”

His words hung in the air, raw and honest, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn around. The rain poured down harder, mingling with the tears that began streaming down your face. You clenched your fists, willing yourself not to break down completely in front of him.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Just... stay out of trouble. Please.”

You swung away without looking back, leaving him standing there in the rain, his figure growing smaller and smaller until it disappeared from view.

As the wind whipped past you, the tears kept coming. The frustration, the exhaustion, the overwhelming loneliness—it all spilled out in the safety of the storm. For the first time in a long time, you let yourself cry.

And behind you, on that rooftop, Gojo Satoru stood drenched and motionless, staring after you with an ache in his chest he didn’t fully understand. He had never seen you like that before—so human, so tired, so vulnerable.

And for the first time, he realized just how much he’d taken you for granted.

<^><^><^><^> <^><^><^><^><^><^>

For two whole days, you slept. The world kept spinning, but you didn’t care. You were beyond exhausted—mentally, physically, emotionally. It felt like your body was trying to shut itself down for repairs, and honestly, you welcomed it. After all, who cared about you? Why should you care about the world when no one seemed to care about you?

Meanwhile, Gojo was in his own spiral of chaos. The guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. He couldn’t shake the image of your trembling voice, your soaked figure disappearing into the rain. He knew he’d messed up—badly. He wanted to apologize, to tell you how sorry he was for being selfish, for not thinking about what you were going through. But... how? How was he even supposed to find you? It was like you’d vanished into thin air.

To make matters worse, there was the looming deadline for his big mechanical engineering project. Normally, he wouldn’t be too concerned. He was Gojo Satoru—charming, brilliant, and capable of pulling off a miracle at the last second. But this time, there was a twist. His professor had assigned him a partner: Y/N L/N.

He didn’t even know who that was. Sure, he’d heard the name in passing, but it wasn’t like he paid attention to anyone who wasn’t in his usual circle of admirers or friends. Now, in the middle of his existential guilt-fueled meltdown, he had to deal with the stress of finding a partner he probably wouldn’t recognize if they stood right in front of him.

His friends noticed immediately that something was off. Gojo was usually the epitome of confidence, breezing through life without a care in the world. But now, he was pacing, muttering to himself, and radiating the kind of energy that screamed, I’ve screwed up.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” Shoko finally asked, leaning back in her chair and eyeing him suspiciously.

“Yeah, you’ve been weird for days,” Geto added, sipping his coffee. “This is, like, the longest you’ve gone without flirting with someone or bragging about yourself. Should we be worried?”

Gojo ran a hand through his damp hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. “It’s Spider-Woman,” he admitted, slumping into a chair.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Shoko groaned, rolling her eyes. “What did you do now?”

“I think I—no, I know I messed up,” Gojo said, groaning into his hands. “I was being an idiot, okay? I kept getting myself into trouble so she’d save me, and... well, she finally snapped.”

“Wait,” Geto said, raising an eyebrow. “Are you telling me Spider-Woman, the literal superhero, got mad at you? What the hell did you do?”

Gojo waved his hands wildly, exasperated. “I just wanted to talk to her! Is that so bad?!”

“Yes,” Shoko and Geto said in unison.

“Ugh, whatever,” Gojo grumbled, burying his face in his arms. “She disappeared after that night. I don’t even know where to find her now.”

“Maybe you should stop obsessing over her and focus on that project,” Shoko suggested, popping a fry into her mouth. “What’s the name of your partner again?”

“Y/N L/N or something,” Gojo said absentmindedly, frowning at the table.

Shoko froze mid-chew, exchanging a quick glance with Geto.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Geto said, trying to suppress a grin.

Gojo blinked at them, confused. “What?”

“Y/N L/N,” Shoko said slowly, smirking. “You mean the quiet girl who never talks to anyone? The one who’s always in the library?”

Gojo’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? No way. why godddd." he dropped his head to the table and started banging his head.

“Yep,” Shoko said, crossing her arms. “That’s your partner. Good luck, lover boy.”

Now, not only did Gojo have to figure out how to apologize to Spider-Woman, but he also had to track down his elusive project partner—

And honestly? He wasn’t sure which task was going to be harder.

going fishing or something

in a fight right

Boyfriends

“no.” diluc’s stern voice rung through the air as he denied an already way too intoxicated kaeya another drink. “you’ve had enough.” pinching the bridge of his nose, diluc winced at his brothers irritating whining of protests as you sat on the stool besides him, lazy smile resting on your face.

“listen to your brother.” you flicked the back of kaeya’s ear gently in discipline as the calvary captain winced and looked up at you with sad eyes. “how mean!” he cried out dramatically, voice heavy with a mix of exhaustion from drinking and playfulness. “you’re both horrible to me… i don’t even want to imagine how awful your children are going to be.” he muttered the last part, gaze cast down to the bar miserably.

“children?” you scoffed, eyebrow raised at the knight. “yeah?” kaeya droned on, words slightly slurring together. “diluc said he sees a future with you so i presumed he also meant he saw himself having kids with you… or am i wrong?” he smirked, face resting in his palm as he tilted his head towards the now flustered bartender.

“i never said i wanted kids.” diluc hisses, grip increasing on the poor glass in his hands. “if they don’t want kids then we don’t have to have them.” he corrected, head turned away from the two of you. heat rose to your cheeks as you processed diluc’s words.

a future? with you? diluc wanted that?

you had been friends with the two brothers for as long as you could remember and while you were prone to kaeya’s teasing over diluc, you hadn’t thought much of it. kaeya had always had an annoying streak to him, a brotherly annoyance, yet diluc wasn’t a fan of the flustered state kaeya often brought over him whenever he’d bring up the red heads obvious crush on you. thank god you were oblivious to it.

“didn’t know you thought about me like that.” you teased, as you smirked over at diluc who wanted nothing more than for kaeya to get up and leave. ‘why did you have to open your mouth’ was all diluc could think as he glared at his painfully drunk brother. “i don’t.” diluc stated flatly, gaze still averted from yours as he refused to meet your curious eyes. if he had to confess then he’d do it somewhere without a crowd and preferably without kaeya.

“liar. all you do is talk about them and how obsessed you are.” kaeya snickered. diluc rolled his eyes before beckoning over one of the knights to take kaeya back to the headquarters as he was in no state to get back there himself. “i’m not obsessed.” diluc scoffed as kaeya shrugged his shoulders and stood up, waving off one of the younger knights who had tried to help. “right,” kaeya grinned. “and i’m not drunk.” sending the two of you one last playful wave, the captain left the tavern leaving an awkward atmosphere behind him.

“sorry about him.” diluc started, placing another glass down. “he knows his limit but sometimes he can’t help but push it.” trying to change the subject, he cleared his throat and looked up at your amused expression as you refused to let his eyes break away from yours.

“so kids huh?” you snickered as diluc groaned. this isn’t how he wanted to end up confessing to you but thanks to kaeya, he had no other choice now. “only if you want them.” he sighed, letting the embarrassment consume him now as there was no turning back now.

taking his hand off the counter and into yours you gave it a reassuring squeeze. “i’m not so sure about kids,” you started, thumb stroking his inner palm. “but i am sure i’d like some sort of future with you… if you want that of course.” diluc’s throat felt dry as he processed your words. you had no idea how long he’d waited for this opportunity, maybe kaeya wasn’t so awful after all.

“i do want that.” he breathed out. “are you sure?” you teased, leaning forwards to get a better look into his vermillion eyes. “i thought you weren’t obsessed with me?”

rolling his eyes for the nth time that evening, diluc scoffed before leaning in. pressing a warm kiss to your lips, he melted in your touch as past worries over you lifted off of his broad shoulders.

“i’m a little more than obsessed with you.”

the daddyfication of ran haitani

a/n: 18+!!!! nsfw!!! i got this request for hiding a pregnancy from ran and went cuckoo bananas this is gonna be multiple parts OOPS!!! please enjoy!!! ((for context, this is in the same world as boyfriendified ran!!))

content: unprotected sex, shower sex, mentions of vomit, pregnancy, lil bit angsty!!!

word count: 2.6k

ran's pacing in his office, exerting a significant amount of energy trying not to appear visibly upset by your phone call. across the room sat rindou and kakucho, who he'd been having a glass of whiskey and a nice chat with to celebrate the end of the work week before you called.

"baby?" your voice reminds him he hasn't responded to you yet.

"uh," he forces out the sound. "sure. that's fine. no dinner tonight. what did you say's goin' on?"

"i think i have food poisoning," you sigh, clearly exhausted. "i've been throwing up since i got home. they catered lunch at work today, maybe it was that."

"i should kill that caterer for ruining a night with my girl."

he's no more than 70% serious. probably.

you laugh into the phone and he turns his back to his brother and kakucho so they won't see the way he's smiling at the sound.

"thank you for that, but it won't be necessary. can we try for date night tomorrow?"

"'course," ran nods his head, hoping his tone didn't give away how disappointed he was to not be seeing you in the next hour like he'd planned.

"you sound sad," you sigh. he should've known you'd see right through him, you knew him better than anyone. "i'm sorry, baby. i'm sad about it, too."

"it's alright, babe," he starts back toward his seat. "really it is. i'll call you later? love you."

he hangs up and drops back into his chair, lifting the whiskey to his lips. rindou gives him a curious look. "my girl's got food poisoning," he explains simply, reaching for the bottle. "anyone up for another round?"

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

the food poisoning leaves you feeling a bit weak for the rest of the weekend, waves of nausea occasionally hitting you, but nothing as serious as when you'd called off friday date night.

you take it easy throughout the week, even calling out of work the next friday to get an extra day to really rest. ran takes the day off, too, so you can spend a whole long weekend together. and by friday morning, you're feeling good. so good that you're happily pressed against the cool tiles of the shower wall as ran thrusts his cock inside you.

the wet sounds of your pussy contracting around him are drowned out by the water running from the shower head, and you only hear ran's heavy, panting breaths because they're right in your ear. "fuck, you're so wet for me," he grunts. "look how easy i'm goin' in. love bein' in this tight little cunt."

"m-missed this so much," you whimper, nails digging into his back where you're holding onto him. it's only been a week since you'd last had sex, you wanted to be cautious about exerting yourself after being so sick, but even one celibate week for the two of you felt like months. ran chuckles in your ear, loving knowing that you long for moments like these the same way he does, and speeds up the motions of his hips.

you cry out, voice carrying through the apartment. at this angle, every stroke has his tip striking a spot inside your velvety walls that's making your head spin. "fuckin' cum around me," his words come out through gritted teeth. "squeeze my fuckin' cock the way i like it. need you to cum."

he hoists you up a bit higher on the wall, shifting your body onto one arm so his other hand is free to seek out your clit. as he rubs against the sensitive nub fervently, it hardly takes another minute before you're unraveling, toes curling, moaning loudly as you cum.

"shit, just like that," his hips stutter, the feeling of your slick cunt shuddering around his length always bringing him right to the edge of his own orgasm. your moans are only getting louder as you get more sensitive and the continued drag of his cock in your walls threatens to be too much for you.

"too much, ran," you whine. and just like that, his hips still for a moment as he releases in hot ropes deep inside you. he fucks his hips up a few more times, pumping his cum deeper, mind going a little cloudy as he comes down from his own pleasure. you squirm in his arms, kissing all over his face as he gently pulls out and sets you onto your feet.

"stop cumming inside me, perv," you tease after you've caught your breath. ran throws his head back and laughs.

"yeah right," he steals a quick kiss. "you love it too much."

you giggle and roll your eyes, reaching for the shower head so you can start cleaning up the mess he made between your legs. ran offers his arm to you for balance as you get to work.

suddenly you don't feel good at all. it's like a switch flips, the feeling coming over you so quickly you almost panic, shoving the shower head into ran's hands and almost slipping in your hurry to get out of the shower.

you barely make it to the toilet before you're heaving. the shower turns off behind you, followed by the sound of ran's wet feet on the tile. he wraps a towel around his waist then drapes one over you, rubbing your back through the fluffy material in absolute silence.

when the nausea passes, you flush the toilet and tug the towel tighter around your shoulders. your legs feel like jello, you doubt you have the strength to stand. so you plop to your butt, sitting cross legged on the floor and looking up at ran where he stands beside you.

finally, he clears his throat to speak. "was that my fault somehow??" what the fuck just happened?" he looks like a deer in headlights.

"how would it be your fault?" you smile weakly, reaching out for him.

he doesn't return the expression, but takes your hand, squeezing tightly. concern is written all over his face, mixed with something else you can't quite read.

ran plops down onto the floor beside you, examining you with too much intensity. he lays the back of his hand across your forehead, frowns, and drops it into his lap.

"stop looking at me like that."

"are you kidding me? i'm fuckin' worried about you," his eyebrows knit together. "one minute i'm fucking you in the shower, next minute you're throwing up, i'm not supposed to be a little fuckin' concerned?"

"you're yelling."

ran hadn't noticed. he usually didn't when he got emotional. it was something he'd been trying to work on, now that he had a girlfriend he loved and had been dating for just over a year. keeping himself in check was never very ran, but he tries his hardest for you. he inhales a sharp breath, forcing himself to calm down.

"i guess i'm still sick," you finally say.

"no way it's food poisoning then," his eyes narrow, skeptical but concerned.

"then what it is?" you sigh, pushing off the floor to try and get to your feet. ran jumps to help you up and you shrug him off, a bit too roughly by accident. "i'm fine," you snap. he stares at you, trying to read your mind. he decides not to comment on your sudden out of character hostility.

"we should get you some fuckin' medicine or somethin," he walks out to the bedroom. "get dressed."

you suck in a shaky breath and follow him into his room. he tosses a pair of your jeans onto the bed from his closet. then a t-shirt. you can't tell if it's yours or his but it'll work. you pull it over your head and toss the wet towel to the floor.

ran gets himself dressed while you step into the jeans and tug them up. you hesitate, blinking back at yourself in the mirror. the pants gape open at the waist, making you frown in confusion. what the fuck... why are they so... tight...

you try only once to fasten the button but give up immediately when the denim refuses to give. this was absolutely not the moment to find out you'd gained weight. like there wasn't enough making you feel like shit today. ran's weird fuckin' attitude, your stomach betraying you, the way the room hadn't stopped spinning since you'd stood up... it was all too much for one day. you don't even realize you've started crying until you hear your own choked sobs fill the room.

ran is frozen at his closet, watching you with wide eyes, and you feel so fucking stupid, bawling in his bedroom for no apparent reason, in your undone jeans.

"what's wrong?" he asks cautiously, approaching like you're an injured animal. "you don't feel good?"

"i-i don'wanna w-wear je-e-eans!" you wail, collapsing into his arms. he holds you tightly to his chest as you cry, rubbing your back but not saying a word. large hands cup your cheeks and ran presses his lips to your forehead. he looks you in the eyes, "you do not have to wear fuckin' jeans." for some reason the tenderness in his eyes, the patience he's showing you through this outburst, it just makes you cry harder. this time, though, he laughs. you hold him tightly around his middle as he reaches down to slide your jeans back down over your ass and down your thighs.

at that moment your stomach flutters. a warning.

"oh fuck," you shove away from him, kicking off your pants frantically and running back to the bathroom to throw up yet again.

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

this time, though, it doesn't stop. in fact, your vomiting just gets more persistent. ran is pacing through his apartment–no, he's practically jogging laps with how nervous he is– cursing wildly at a very patient emergency services operator who was completely undeserving of being caught in the crossfire of his panic.

"babe, do you need a fuckin' ambulance?" ran appears in the bathroom door, hand covering the lower half of his phone. you respond in a weak mnh, shrugging your shoulders before your head is back in the toilet. "yeah, send it over. pukey's not gettin' in my fuckin' bugatti." despite the way your body is violently rejecting the contents of your stomach, you manage to scowl at him. "i'll pay. i love you so fuckin' much," he mouths, eyebrows drooping apologetically.

if you didn't feel so awful, you probably would've laughed. ran was, after all, agreeing to pay $2500 for a fifteen minute ambulance ride so he wouldn't risk getting even a drop of something gross on the interior of his precious car.

the longer your nausea persists, the more time seems to blur together. it was somewhere between 10 minutes and an hour when ran came in with sweatpants and pulled them up your legs. and another 5–55 minutes later, the EMTs arrived to help you out of ran's apartment.

you send ran a look that you hope says this is so fucking dramatic and then you're in the ambulance, ran right by your side.

the emergency room nurses quickly assess your situation (looking rough, actively vomiting into one of the ambulance's barf bags) and hurry you into a room. an iv is started, a pill is swallowed down. you quickly start to feel normal again.

ran stands threateningly in the corner with his arms folded across his chest, saying nothing. a nurse comes in to run some tests and promises that a doctor will be in soon to talk with you. as soon as you're alone in the room, ran is at your side, sitting at the edge of your bed protectively.

"maybe it's just plain old sickness," you lay your head back against the pillows, exhausted from the events of the day but grateful to be having a conversation without getting sick in the middle. "stomach flu or something."

"fuck that," he grimaces. "i hate bein' sick, you better stay away from me."

you roll your eyes at him, "like you would ever let me if i tried." he flashes you a grin, adoration in his eyes. he takes your hand that's resting on the mattress, bringing it to his lips. your hand tightens around his when you feel him trembling.

"ran."

his eyes meet yours. the concerned, fearful look you'd seen earlier has been clouding his face since he made the call to the ER.

you squeeze his hand, kiss his knuckles, "why don't you go have a cigarette, honey? you're so tense."

"my fuckin' girl is in a hospital bed," he replies through gritted teeth. "of course i'm fuckin' tense."

"i know, my love, but look! i'm okay," you soothe, hoping your face is convincing enough. "i've got my fluids, they did their tests. i'm already feeling much better. you're shaking, hon. go have a smoke, feel better, and by then i'm sure we'll be ready to head home."

ran eyes you warily. the last thing he wants is to be away from you right now. but he had to admit, you knew him really fucking well. you could tell his anxiety was heightened tenfold because he hadn't gotten his nicotine fix in the last couple hours with everything going on. with a heaving sigh, he leans down to wrap you in his arms tightly.

ran wasn't a hugger usually, so you relaxed into the rare embrace, savoring the action. "this is nice," you mumble, tone nearly teasing. "fuck off," he grumbles, kissing your forehead. "i fuckin' hate this shit. i hate you being sick, hospitals fuckin' scare me. i-"

"ran," you chuckle.

"fuck, fine! i'm going."

almost immediately after ran leaves the doctor comes in. she's an older woman with light hair and kind eyes. "how do you feel?" she asks sweetly.

"much better," you tell her with a grin. "but i'd really like to know where that came from."

"was that man who left your husband?"

you shake your head, "my boyfriend." weird question, you think.

"are you sexually active?"

you nod, not particularly enjoying this line of questioning.

"do you practice safe sex?"

"like, uh–" you clear your throat.

"do you use protection?" she clarifies. your silence is enough answer for her.

"any mood swings lately?" she continues. "weight gain? headaches? fatigue?" your head starts to swim. "when was your last period?"

holy shit, when was it? was it late??

"the blood test shows that you're pregnant," she pats your knee. her reaction is ambiguous, you can tell she isn't sure if a congratulations is in order or sympathy.

"are you sure?" you blurt. "like, how sure are you?"

"pretty sure," she almost smirks. "we can run another test on your bloodwork for a more precise answer and call you with the results. you can take a home test in the meantime, too, if you'd like."

you nod weakly. she tells you the nurse will come in to discharge you but you can barely hear her.

pregnant.

the word is pounding around in your skull like a pinball machine. your hands feel clammy. pregnant. it would explain a lot. the throwing up, getting annoyed so easily with ran, the jeans, the crying over the jeans...

the door opens and you jump. it's ran, smiling as he comes in, looking much more relaxed than before. your heart sinks. what the hell were you going to say to ran??

"you okay?" he asks, grin fading.

you nod enthusiastically, "yeah! it's just a stomach bug. i was right."

the relief on his face makes you feel even worse. "i'm glad it's nothin' serious," he comes over to kiss your forehead. "you had me fuckin' worried."

"sorry, baby," you tug him down to sit in the bed with you. "thanks for taking such good care of me." he pulls your face closer and kisses your temple, "don't thank me, come on. you're my girl. m'so happy you're okay."

but you didn't feel okay. not at all.

part 2

yoon jeonghan fic recs!

✧ such a flirt ! - @amateurasterism (it’s simple: jeonghan knows he’s a flirt, but didn’t realize you flirting back was the key to breaking him.)

✧ deeper in denial ! - @amateurasterism (if there’s one thing you know about jeonghan, it’s that he’s a tease. what happens when the teasing makes it to soonyoung’s game of spin the bottle?)

✧ MON ANGE ! - @itadorins

✧ KIDULT - @hvae (jeonghan always believed he was never fond of children, especially when he took the job at your daycare. little did he know the child in him was playing hide and seek, finally revealing itself after growing to love the kids. oh, and you too)

✧ mirror mirror - @cheolism (jeonghan asks to roleplay him being jealous and fucks you like the little desperate slut you are)

✧ It's Nice To Have A Friend | yjh x reader - @sluttywoozi (You and Jeonghan have embarked on your fifth annual Best Friends trip, but it's a bit different than usual, considering he made the reservation under Yoon Y/N and told them he was your husband. What's a honeymoon between friends anyway?)

✧ a little attention - @onlymingyus

✧ MY ATTENTION - @slytherinshua

✧ when jeonghan realizes he's in love with you - @wonwoonlight

✧ 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘 ♥︎ - yoon jeonghan ! - @hoshzone (not being able to wait until Jeonghan gets off the phone with Joshua, you decide it’d be a good idea to get yourself off on his thigh. He makes sure you pay for that.)

✧ call me by his name | yoon jeonghan [M] - @sweetlemontart (to you, one of jeonghan's most admirable trait is his candid nature. he's straightforward with most people—if he's angry, they'll definitely know. but with you? he'd rather swim the ocean day and night than take his anger out on you. well, that is, of course, unless you ask him to.)

✧ to live again | yoon jeonghan - @viastro (it’s been years since your last milestone birthday; a time when everything still felt right in the world with youth and ambition. now that you’re older and times have changed, would you dare take a chance to save someone else in the past at the cost of your own future?)

✧ 彡 my heart is beating for two. — yoon jeonghan - @seuonji (daycare worker yn! x secretary jeonghan — you’re a worker at the daycare and of course, your main priority is the safety of the kids. how’d you deal with an unfamiliar face trying to pick up one of the kids one day?)

✧ the long way | yoon jeonghan - @trblsvt (it was just like any other shoot. go in, pose, drink water, don't get food on the clothes, and don't joke around with the staff. easy. except it wasn't that easy.)

✧ — ode to you  - @lovelyhan (if there's one thing you've learned from all the lives you've spent together, it's that jeonghan isn't always someone you'll end up wanting. he can be crass. he can be secretive. he can be nothing short of vexing. but in the end, he's everything you need him to be.)

✧ rain and kisses | yoon jeonghan - @babyleostuff

✧ sharing is caring - yoon jeonghan - @etherealyoungk

✧ lowkey — yoon jeonghan - @chenfleur (Jeonghan's supposed to be on stage in twenty minutes, and he's nowhere to be found.)

✧ our dawn is hotter than day. - @ikigaisvt (in which you and your boyfriend says i love you for the first time surrounded by his friends.)

𝐓𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐭

[Chapter 2] Killing Boredom

← Previous Chapter - Story Masterlist

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader x Suguru Getou

“Suguru, will you be home early tonight?” You ask through the phone, hoping that you’ll have your husband home for dinner tonight. It’s a pointless wish because you’re always met with,

“We’re really busy tonight, honey.” You hear which makes you sigh. You sigh loud enough so he can hear it, which always makes him mutter an useless apology. He apologizes but never does anything to fix it. Eating all of your meals alone almost every day is depressing to say the least.

Before he can say his apology that ends with an “I love you, pumpkin” you hang up the phone. You take a deep breath to calm yourself down before you go downstairs. You’ll dismiss the staff that works in your house and go out to loosen up. Suguru always comes home late, so there’s no point in staying here, boring yourself to death.

You’ve been with Suguru Getou for seven years. You began dating not too long after you met him. You dated for two years, engaged for one, and married for four. Suguru is a wonderful partner most of the time.

A year into your relationship with him you found out that Suguru’s parents founded the Star Plasma phones, phones that half of the world uses. A phone that you used when you met Suguru, one that you still use to this day. That was Suguru’s source of income– Or rather, his parents’. Now Suguru is in charge of the company since his parents finally retired.

Suguru has a lot of responsibility on his shoulders which means more money. Yet that also means little free time to spend with his wife. Suguru was an excellent lover for the first two years of your relationship but that all changed when he actually started working with his family. It wasn’t this bad before though. He’d at least be home for dinner three times per week.

“You’re all dismissed. Suguru isn’t coming home tonight.” You inform the people that have started dinner. They were making one of Suguru’s favorites considering Tuesdays are one of the only days that Suguru is home for dinner.

You quickly go back upstairs to get ready to go out. You’ll have a couple of drinks and loosen up, trying to forget about your husband.

You rarely go out. Suguru’s marriage was a big deal, landing on the cover of magazines. Your face is known all over the country. Perhaps all over the world, if foreigners actually care about that stuff. You just know that if you were to go out and not even attempt to disguise yourself, you wouldn’t be left alone. 

While you’d love to be flashy and show off the jewelry and designer items that your husband buys for you, you can’t. You don’t want to draw too much attention to yourself because if anyone recognizes you, it’s bad for your husband. The moment Suguru told you who he was, you were forced to stop being a free spirit. Now every decision you make has to be thoroughly thought through because there’s a possibility you’ll ruin Suguru’s image.

So before going out you put on so much makeup to make yourself unrecognizable. You wear clothes that don’t draw too much attention to you, yet they manage to be alluring. Finally, you disguise your hair and put on a wig. It’s a black bob, which would look ridiculous on some people but not on you. You manage to draw people in with it.

You do your makeup, put on your wig, your mini red dress, and your black red bottoms. You go out to order some drinks and get hit on, not much for dancing so you don’t care to think about your feet’s comfort. You mainly go out to get drinks and to get hit on by other people. It’s not like you flirt back, but knowing you’re desired by others is always a confidence boost.

When the sun begins to set, the house is empty. The sound of your heels echo as they hit the marble floor. You walk to the garage to your baby. Well one of many. Suguru’s gift to you for your first marriage anniversary. A red mc20 maserati. Your go-to car ever since Suguru got it. 

It’s a rather flashy car for someone who tries to suppress their identity. But then again, all the cars you have are flashy so you might as well pick your favorite out of the bunch. Especially since your dress matches the color of the car.

You’re quickly out of the house and on your way to the nearest bar– One that’s half an hour away since Suguru decided he wanted to live secluded from the rest of the world. You didn’t care when he initially bought it, you just wanted a mansion. But now since you’re alone 90% of the time, you get irritated that you live so isolated.

In half an hour you’re parked outside the bar and getting out of your car. At least the place is nice because it’s in the rich side of town. When you enter the place you notice how empty it is. There’s maybe two other people in the place aside from the bartenders. Your disguise is practically useless but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

You take a seat and watch as the bartender walks over to you. You smile at her and she smiles back before properly greeting you, “Hi. I’m Rose. It’s the first time I see you come in. Can I see your ID?”

“Ah, you flatter me.” You tell her as you open your purse and pull out your wallet to get your driver’s license. She checks it and quickly gives it back to you, holding back a comment on your recent haircut. Before she can say anything else, you tell her your drink, “I want a negroni.”

“Coming right up, ma’am.”

You zone out listening to the faint music that plays in the bar. It’s a reminder of your husband since the man hates the song. But you find yourself humming the tune because you like it.  You always skip it to not ruin Suguru’s mood, but you like it.

You’ve given up a lot to be with Suguru. Not listening to a song doesn’t seem like a big deal, and it isn’t, but you’ve given up so much more than that. It feels like you’ve given up your whole identity to be with Suguru. Yet he isn’t at fault for that.

“Here you go.” The thump of the glass being set on the bar startles you as it brings you back to the present. You almost felt sorry for yourself for being with Suguru. You mutter a thank you before bringing the glass up to your lips.

You begin to sip on your drink quietly, listening to the new song that plays. Rose is about to talk to you since you seem rather lonely– Unlike her other customers, but someone else walks into the place and she has to serve him. He’s a frequent too.

“Welcome back, Gojo.” Rose smiles like a fool as the man approaches. He takes a seat right next to you, and you tense up. Gojo is a common last name so it’s not necessarily him. “Sex on the beach?”

“I feel like it’s too cold to go to the beach. Maybe some other time– Wait, you mean the drink? Yeah.” He jokes and Rose laughs. You hear his voice and it’s him. It’s definitely him. You just hope that he won’t try to talk to you. You don’t want him to recognize you.

“Whatcha drinking there?” Satoru asks while the bartender makes his drink. You hold back on sighing when he speaks to you even though you were praying he wouldn’t talk to you. When you don’t answer he clears his throat and repeats the question. He isn’t ignored, never. He probably wasn’t loud enough.

“Negroni.” You respond, and your voice rings. It’s definitely familiar. So he wants to keep you talking to remember who you are. But you don’t seem like the woman who talks much. Maybe if he could see your face, he’d remember who you are but your hair is covering it.

“Hmm… Can I buy you another?” He asks and you turn your face to look at him. There’s no reaction from him which makes you assume that he hasn’t recognized you. You get to finally look at him, and he looks handsome tonight. White button up shirt and black slacks. He definitely just got out of work.

“You don’t even know my name and here you are, already offering to buy me a drink.” You chuckle. You bat your eyelashes and give him a smile. He doesn’t recognize you so maybe you can be yourself for a bit. Even if Satoru were to recognize you, he wouldn’t tell anyone. Not even Suguru.

“You’re right, where are my manners? I’m Satoru Gojo. And you are?” He’s quick to introduce himself. You smile at him, yet you remain quiet. You heard him, you definitely did, but you’re not going to answer his question. He can definitely live with the curiosity of what your name is. “I take it, you’re the mysterious type.”

“I just don’t like sharing my name with every random person I meet.” You respond and he raises his brow. “I will take the offer on the drink though.”

You hear your phone ring so you pull it out of your purse for a second, and sigh as you see a message from your husband. He’ll be home much later than usual. You put the phone away again and bring the glass up to your lips.

“Can’t help but notice that you’re married. Is your partner with you tonight?” Satoru asks, and you click your tongue, immediately knowing where this is going. You know what he’s planning but you’re too irritated with your husband to quickly shut Satoru down.

“My husband is working late tonight.” You answer. You watch the smirk grow on Satoru’s lips. His drink is placed in front of him, and he thanks the bartender before he asks for another negroni for you.

“Working late or he’s having-” He begins but you cut him off before he can suggest what he’s about to.

“My husband and I are very loyal to each other.” You state with a smile.

“So I take that we’re not going anywhere tonight.” He sounds disappointed.

“Aside from flirting, we’re not going anywhere.” You tell him. Well flirting is something for him, that’s definitely better than friendly banter the whole entire night. He clears his throat, and he decides he’ll try to impress you.

“I see you own a Star phone.” He comments and you hum. “I’m the executive vice-president of the company.”

You’re supposed to act impressed or shocked by the revelation. But you’re not because you already knew. But you can’t let him know who you are. Not acting impressed will definitely raise some questions. “Are you really? You’re lying.”

“I am.” He chuckles as he pulls out his wallet to get a business card. He shows it off to you, and once you read the name, you nod. You can’t bring yourself to actually be surprised. You can’t bring yourself to act surprised.

“You know what I have to say about your husband…” Satoru begins and you tilt your head to the side in curiosity. “He’s a damn fool. If you were my wife I wouldn’t let no stupid job get in my way.”

“Good thing I’m not.” You chuckle. “My husband is just trying to make money.”

“You don’t have to worry about money with me, baby.” He says, making you laugh. Satoru says anything to get into anyone’s pants.

“Hmm… Really? If I were to leave my husband for you, would you pay for everything?” You question and he confidently nods with a smirk on his face. “Would you actually commit?”

“Sure would. For a woman so beautiful I’ll do anything.” He replies, making you roll your eyes.

“Not sure if a man as handsome as you will keep his promise.” You ask and he chuckles. You’re definitely making yourself comfortable around him. His face is inches away from yours, and you feel his breath on your ear when he whispers.

“So I’m handsome? Will your husband approve of that?” You hear and it sends a shiver down your spine, yet you manage to laugh.

“Well he’s not here now, is he?” You ask. 

For the rest of the night you two speak, thinking that your identity was kept hidden. You flirted with an old friend until it was time to go home. You had more fun than you had in years. And just as planned, Suguru wasn’t home yet.

But Satoru definitely knew who you were. No matter how much you try to change yourself he’ll always recognize you.

🏷 @violetsaffron5 @uhremmi @13vicey @rumi-rants @somemydayy @lilith412426 @33yaeyaeeee @iam-mia9 @m00dycr4nkybitc @cloudsinthecosmos @armincasa @staromi @hopelhss @desireness @abba-simp @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @corndogwithwings @Konekobby @tojianddabisslut @yeagerfushiguro @mochikage @chanelmalandro @Katykat71114 @ur-mums-side @manidobre @itadore-you @yehet-moi-ohorat @lovemarvel16

3:19 AM | haitani r.

haitani ran x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend comes home late and hurt after a long night out

warnings: fem!reader, unedited + written on my phone, prob lots of errors, petnames (doll, babygirl)

wordcount: 1.5k ish

“you’re late.”

three hours late, to be exact. ran had told you he’d be back at midnight the latest so at the very least he could give you a kiss goodnight before you fell asleep. your schedules rarely matched up—with his business taking place during that latest hours of the night and you having to be up early in the morning for classes—but he always at least tried to lay with you before you slept for the night, knowing you couldn’t sleep well without him. and he was always sure to be with you on nights before big exams for you.

like tonight.

except tonight.

“i know, i’m sorry,” and you knew he was, you could hear it in his voice and you knew it wasn’t his fault—his work was unpredictable and dangerous but he always did his best to come back to you.

“it’s okay,” and it was.

even if you could smell the smoke and alcohol from all the way across the room.

you sat up in bed, blinking blearily from your state of half-sleep, looking across the room toward where your boyfriend was standing, unbuttoning his shirt—struggling to unbutton his shirt.

your brows furrowed, eyes narrowing trying to do understand what was going on through your half-hazed mind.

he’s hurt?

“ran?” you asked quietly, taking in the red-stained white button-up that you could barely make out through the dark, the way he was tensing and letting out soft hisses every time he moved. “ran, what happened?”

ran turned his head to look at you, a wince decorating his pretty face and you forced yourself out of bed when you finally caught sight of the dark bruises decorating his chest and face, the blood smeared across his skin.

“doll, lay back down, i’ll come join you soon,” ran’s voice was rough and you shook your head.

“ran, don’t ignore me, what happened? i thought you were going to a club with rindou and sanzu?” you ignored his words, nightgown slipping off your shoulders as you rushed toward him, nearly tripping over the bedsheets your legs tangled in.

a wry smile tugged at his lips as you approached him, hands cupping his face gently, thumbs tracing over the bruises marring his cheekbones. he leaned his face into your hand, pressing his lips against your palm, “we were, had some unexpected guests. they got the jump on us, unfortunately.”

“the blood, is it yours?” and maybe it was a dumb question, but you were still tired and ran was always patient with you. so all he did was take one of the hands cupping his face, covering it with one of his as he tossed you a wink.

“some of it, yeah,” and his grin remained but the look in his eyes was pained and your lips trembled as your gaze trailed down his bruised abdomen, one hand slipping from his face to trace down his chest over his tattoos and the blackened bruises.

“you should go to a hospital, ran,” and it was a stupid comment. you knew better than anyone that bonten did not have the luxury of hospital treatment unless they wanted to find themselves in a prison cell the moment they stepped out of the hospital.

ran ignored the comment, instead leaning in to press his lips to your forehead. your eyes fluttered shut, a shaky breath escaped your lips.

“babygirl, please go try to get some sleep, you have an exam tomorrow,” he murmured, bringing one of his hands to the back of your head, toying with your hair.

“fuck the exam,” you said, blinking back the tears stinging your eyes because you hated seeing ran hurt, you had only seen him hurt once before and it hasn’t been half as bad as this. “you’re hurt, ran, let me run a bath for you and then we can lay down, okay?”

ran let out a deep sigh but you didn’t give him a chance to argue, your fingers intertwined with his and you gently tugged him in the direction of the bathroom, squinting as you flicked on a set of lights.

you let him lean against the bathroom sink as you kneeled to run the hot water, fingers shaking as you glanced back at him through the mirror, watching him struggle to remove his slacks.

in the new light, the blood and bruises were all the more visible against his pale skin. he looked weak and haitani ran never looked weak. he was always larger than life, always the protector, always one to hide his vulnerabilities and now-

your throat was tight as you rose to your feet, making your way back over to him, kneeling down in front of him to help him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

“i can do it,” ran’s voice was probably harsher than he intended, strained from the pain, from humiliation. ran despised showing weakness, even to you.

“please let me take care of you for once,” your voice wavered, looking up at him with grit teeth, trying to hide the worry pooling in your gut because ran was always the one looking out for you, and his brother, and sanzu haruchiyo, and kakucho, and he never let anyone take care of him—not while he was hurt, not while he was sick, and especially not when he was upset.

and he only watched you, lips flat and pressed together tight, and for a second, you really thought he was going to deny you. but then his gaze averted and both of his hands fell to his side, silently giving you permission to help him take off his pants.

ran was uncharacteristically quiet as you unbuckled his belt and slipped his slacks down his thighs, helping him pull his shoes and socks off before having him lift his feet to take off his slacks.

you bit your bottom lip, fingers tracing the tattoos decorating down his left thigh and the ugly yellow and green bruises surrounding them, gaze lifting to abdomen and the even uglier colors decorating his skin.

his ribs are broken.

“c’mon,” you said quietly, taking his hand in yours and rising to your feet again, leading him over to the now full tub. his face twisted into one of pain as he lifted a leg to step into the tub, a low hiss escaping his lips as he sunk into the water.

sitting on the edge of the tub behind him, leaning down to kiss the top of his matted hair, bringing your fingers to trace his shoulders. his body relaxed into the water and into your touch.

“you should go rest,” he murmured, “thank you for running the water for me.”

“i’m not leaving, c’mon, let’s get your hair washed,” you said.

“i’m not a child,” ran protested half-heartedly, but even as he spoke, he was relaxing into the feeling of you wetting his hair, gathering shampoo to massage it into his scalp.

“i know,” was all you said in response as you leaned down to press your lips to his shoulder, nails scratching his scalp, lulling his eyes shut.

reaching past him to grab a wash rag, you watched as the clear water began to tint pink from the dried and fresh blood staining his skin, swallowing thickly as you took another glance at his torso.

“you don’t have to do this,” ran said.

“i know,” you repeated, “i want to.”

from behind him, you watched his jaw clench, grip tightening on the edges of the tub, upper body tensing.

“ran,” you sighed, and it was all he needed to relax back into your touch, and you let out a soft breath, wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“do you…” ran began and you hummed into his neck, “can i close my eyes for a bit?”

and you could hear the exhaustion in his voice and you could practically see his eyes drooping shut just from his tone. you smiled against his skin, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

“of course,” you said quietly, “‘ll take care of you, ran. get some rest.”

-

taglist: @touyasghosty @kennyb0y @portfolio-of-dreams @devinsdaydreams @sano-obsessed @rxmera @sugusshi @haitanihime @adeptiixiao @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @crackheadwithtoes @zuuki @hanmascult @4leafcloverwithawhitecraneforyou @hollypastl @kazufuyusluv @imkumichan @meena-in-a-nutshell @aces-high @obsessiontoanime @thevillagehiddenintheinternet @marism @prettyiolanthe @whydohumansss @rinsie @blvebcrry @r-xochitl @chaoticwh0re @chifuyuslilkitten @wakasasucker @shigsprincess @lundabean @crown5 @savagemickey03 @keijisprettygirl @novaresque

"jealous, jealous, jealous boyy.." ft. diluc

bro was discombobulated