LOVE AND DEEPSPACE — AND THEIR HOBBIES IN FREE HOURS.

Rich boy gojo latest obsession: Spider woman aka you

Part 2 Part 1

After four days away from school, you finally returned, feeling somewhat refreshed despite the exhaustion that had pushed you to your limit. You knew you’d probably missed a lot, but at least you felt ready to face the chaos again—or so you thought.

Your optimism vanished the second you discovered your partner for the mechanical engineering project was none other than Gojo Satoru. The Gojo Satoru.

It didn’t take him long to track you down—practically the minute you stepped foot in school, he was at your side. His signature white hair and ridiculously expensive sunglasses caught everyone’s attention as he launched into a stream of words, rambling about everything and nothing.

“Hey! Y/N, right? Wow, four days, huh? You okay? I mean, not that I was, like, worried or anything—I mean, I totally was, but—anyway, the project! I’ve been thinking about it. We can divide it up, yeah? Or maybe we can do it together? I’m great at mechanics, you know. Well, actually, I’m great at everything, but mechanics especially—”

You stared at him, blinking slowly, as he rattled on and on. The assignment wasn’t even hard—just split the work, do your part, and be done with it. But he seemed determined to complicate things with his non stop chatter.

In the background, his friends were clearly enjoying the spectacle. Shoko and Geto were standing a few feet back, both laughing quietly as they watched their usually unshakable friend flounder in front of you.

You weren’t sure if Gojo was flustered or if this was just his natural state of being. He was all energy and charm—like a whirlwind of confidence with no filter. If you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought he was genuinely nervous, but that didn’t seem like his style. Still, the longer he talked, the more you couldn’t help but wonder if he really was as airheaded as he seemed.

You prayed he hadn’t pieced together anything yet. There was no way he’d recognize you as Spider-Woman—you’d been so careful. Surely, someone like him—all face and no brain—wouldn’t notice the connection, right?

You sighed inwardly. Dumb and pretty was a dangerous comb. And Gojo Satoru? He was a walking embodiment of both.

“Just do the part you want, and I’ll do the rest.”

Your voice was calm, straightforward, and devoid of any room for argument. Gojo stopped mid-ramble, stunned into silence. For the first time since you’d known him—well, “known” was a stretch since he’d never acknowledged you before this moment—he wasn’t talking.

He just… stared.

And then, without any regard for personal space, he leaned closer, his bright blue eyes studying you intently.

“Wow,” he said softly, a small, boyish grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “This is the first time I’ve heard you talk. You’ve got a pretty deep voice.”

His comment wasn’t mocking; it sounded more like a genuine observation, tinged with curiosity. But his closeness made you shift uncomfortably, and the sound of his friends laughing grew louder.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. You’d just gotten back to school, and now you had to deal with this.

“Can we focus on the project?” you asked flatly, trying to redirect the conversation.

But Gojo, still grinning like he’d uncovered the eighth wonder of the world, ignored your plea entirely. “Your voice is kinda cool, you know that? Like… mysterious. Are you mysterious? Is there a secret life I don’t know about? Wait—” He gasped dramatically, his hands flying to his mouth. “Are you a spy?!”

You stared at him, deadpan.

“Just pick your part,” you said again, turning your attention to your notebook.

“Okay, okay! I’ll do the first two pages and make a 3D model. That’s okay?” Gojo straightened up to his full height, which only made him seem even more ridiculously tall. You hadn’t really noticed before, but now, standing so close to him, his towering frame was impossible to ignore.

“Cool. I’ll do the rest,” you replied simply, not bothering to look back as you turned and walked past him.

He watched as you moved away, his usual grin faltering into something softer—almost thoughtful.

“Whoa,” Geto said, leaning over with a smirk as he watched Gojo’s expression. “Did you just… listen to someone? Like, without arguing? Who even are you?”

“Shut up,” Gojo muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

Shoko snorted, flicking a fry at him. “You’ve got it bad, Satoru.”

“I don’t have anything,” he shot back, though his ears burned red.

As you disappeared down the hallway, he found himself standing there longer than he probably should have, replaying the moment in his head. For some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way your voice had sounded—calm, composed, and completely unbothered by him.

And for someone like Gojo Satoru, who thrived on attention and chaos, it was frustratingly intriguing.

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The idea lingered in your mind all day, no matter how much you tried to focus on classes. Shouldn’t Spider-Woman have a way for people to reach out? Not everyone you saved could shout their thanks in the middle of a rescue, and some people might have real concerns or valuable tips to share.

The thought nagged at you, feeling almost irresponsible to ignore. After all, you were doing this to help people. Giving them a way to connect with you seemed like the logical next step.

So, during your break between classes, you decided to act on it.

You pulled out your laptop, leaned back in your seat, and quickly created an email account. Simple, straightforward, and easy to remember:

spider-woman@gmail.com

As you stared at the blank inbox, a wave of uncertainty hit you. Would this even work? What if people used it to spam you or waste your time? Or worse—what if it somehow compromised your identity?

Still, you reasoned, no one would be able to trace it back to you as long as you were careful. Besides, you’d set strict boundaries. You wouldn’t answer every single email, only the ones that truly mattered.

Satisfied with your decision, you logged out and closed the laptop. The rest of the day felt oddly lighter, as if you’d checked something important off your to-do list.

That night, after school, you’d made the decision to public. You handed out flyers across the city, hoping to give people a direct way to reach Spider-Woman if they needed help or just wanted to thank you. You didn’t expect much, but soon enough, the emails started pouring in.

At first, it was the usual garbage—memes, advertisements, strange videos, phone numbers, and links to bizarre websites that made you raise an eyebrow. You could barely keep up with the flood of emails, your inbox filling faster than you could sort through them. Some were from media outlets—sensational headlines, twisting your actions into something unrecognizable. Others just wanted to use your identity for their own clicks.

But then, amidst the junk, there were those emails that made it all feel worth it.

Messages of gratitude from people you’d saved. Simple, heartfelt thank-yous that made the overwhelming mess of everything feel just a little more meaningful.

You smiled as you read through some of them. It reminded you why you were doing this. The people who truly needed you, the ones who didn’t treat you like a headline or an urban legend—those were the ones you wanted to hear from.

And then, as you scrolled down the list of incoming emails, one stood out.

It was from:

Gojo Satoru

Your eyes widened for a moment before you clicked on the message. There was no way. You quickly opened it, and the first thing that hit you was the absurdity of it. The email wasn’t formal, nor was it filled with the usual 'thank you' or ‘help me’ types of questions.

It read:

"Heyyyyyyy Spider-Woman, Satoru here. You know the guy with the white hair. You saved me again. You should really stop doing that, I might get too used to it. Also, can you send me your number? I have some questions about your secret life... I mean, if you're not too busy saving the world or whatever. Also, if you need help with anything (I’m pretty good at everything), just let me know. P.S. I don't know why you thought you could hide from me. Don’t make me come find youuuuu😉"

You stared at the screen for a few seconds, blinking in disbelief. The audacity was almost impressive. Not only that, but his message was ridiculous.

You closed the email without replying. What could you even say? The man was already a walking disaster, and it was clear he had zero understanding of personal boundaries. Besides, you had schoolwork to catch up on. You quickly switched to your homework, diving into it to distract yourself from the email and the mess of your thoughts.

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Gojo knew the possibility of you replying was zero, but he still felt a sense of disappointment. He was special, important, and couldn’t quite understand why you would ignore him like this. He had stopped trying to get himself into trouble on purpose, but it was hard. He still wanted to apologize to you, but how could he make you meet him?

He had to focus on the project for now.

Y/N...

apparently, a man could have two crushes. at school he liked Y/N. and outside it's spider-woman.

Gojo wasn’t even sure if it was a crush it could just be admiration, but there was something about you. You were so cool, so unbothered. It made him want to try harder, get your attention. The other girls hadn’t figured out the formula or equation on how to get his attention: Ignore Gojo = Gojo notice you = Gojo being in love. Being unbothered = Gojo will become your dog.

He wanted to work for every bit of your affection and attention. You and Spider-Woman had managed to make him feel like he had to.

He was planning to ask for your phone number tomorrow at school or suggest working at the library together.

And that's exactly what he did.

"Either you give me your phone number so we can talk about the project, or we work on it at the library. Your choice." It was right by the lockers as school ended.

You didn’t even glance at him as you zipped your bag. "I’m going to the library anyway. We can go," you said, not breaking stride as you brushed past him, heading for the door.

Gojo blinked, caught off guard for a split second. You weren’t fazed by him, not even slightly. But he wasn’t going to let it go that easily. He jogged to catch up, his usual confidence returning in full force.

"Wait, but can I still have your number though?" he asked, his voice light but tinged with that unmistakable charm of his. He really couldn’t help himself—he needed to get a response from you, something, anything.

You didn’t answer , your pace steady as you made your way to the library.

Gojo, though, wasn’t about to back off. He was persistent, a little frustrated, but more amused than anything. “I mean, it’s not like I’m asking for much,” he added, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

You didn’t reply, your silence giving him no indication of whether he was getting through to you or not. Still, he couldn’t help but feel like he was getting closer.

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After his non stop yapping about everything and anything, you really had to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. You felt like your head was going to explode if you had to listen to him for even one more second.

You left your laptop open on the document, but there were several tabs open as well. When he noticed it was about to go to sleep, he instinctively reached out and moved the mouse to keep it open, a habit, really.

He wasn’t trying to snoop, he really wasn't but ... but you know his hand… well, his hand was doing it. He checked to make sure you weren’t anywhere nearby before starting to browse through the tabs.

There were news articles about Spider-Woman—he didn’t know you were a fan. He thought maybe if he told you he'd met her, it might impress you. Then there were music tabs, shopping, school-related stuff, and two emails. Why were there two emails? Weird

One was just school-related—nothing out of the ordinary.

But then, he opened the other one.

He stopped.

Why were there so many emails? At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Just casual messages, questions, and updates. But then he spotted the Gmail account.

The one that said spider-woman@gmail.com.

His hand froze on the mouse.

His blood ran cold as realization sank in. His brain screamed at him that it couldn’t be, but the signs were there—the news tabs, the emails, and… his own message, sitting right there, bold in the inbox.

The same message he had sent to Spider-Woman.

The room felt eerily quiet as he stared at the screen, the world around him fading into the background. His heart pounded in his chest as he scrolled through the messages, seeing thank-you notes, requests for help, and even memes and ads mixed in. It all pointed to one impossible, yet now undeniable conclusion: you were Spider-Woman.

The same person who had saved him more times than he could count.

The same person who had ignored his email.

The same person who was now walking back toward the table.

He scrambled to close the email tab, his hands fumbling slightly in his panic. His pulse thundered in his ears as he tried to compose himself, acting like nothing had happened.

When you returned, you sat down without sparing him a glance, opening your laptop again and resuming your work. He watched you, his mind racing. He wanted to say something, but what could he say? "Hey, so I figured out your biggest secret, no big deal"? Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

Instead, he sat there in silence for the first time in his life, staring at you with a mixture of awe, guilt, and nervous energy, realizing that nothing between the two of you would ever be the same again.

You were too focused on the document to notice Gojo’s sudden quietness—something that was extremely out of character for him. The only sound between you was the faint clicking of your keyboard and the occasional shuffle of papers.

Gojo’s head was spinning. You were Spider-Woman. The mysterious hero everyone talked about. The one who saved lives while juggling a life as an unbothered, quiet, and cool high school student.

He couldn’t stop stealing glances at you. How had he missed it? It was obvious now—your exhaustion, your constant disappearing acts, even your unapproachable demeanor. He suddenly felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

"You okay?" you asked, finally noticing the weird energy radiating off him.

"Huh?" Gojo jolted, almost knocking over his chair. "Yeah, yeah! Totally fine! Why wouldn’t I be fine? Are you fine? You seem fine. So, I’m fine!" He was rambling, his words coming out too fast.

You squinted at him suspiciously. "Right… Well, if you're fine, then focus on the project."

"Yep! Project. Totally focusing on the project." He picked up a pen and pretended to write something down, but his mind was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop thinking about what to do with this newfound knowledge. Should he say something? Should he keep it to himself?

Then an idea popped into his head. A terrible, ridiculous, Gojo-level idea.

"So, uh… I’ve been thinking," he began, trying to sound casual. "Spider-Woman's pretty cool, huh?"

You froze for a second but quickly recovered, keeping your face neutral. "Sure," you muttered, not looking up.

"Yeah, I mean, she’s, like, super badass, right? Saving people, swinging through the city, beating up bad guys…" He trailed off, gauging your reaction.

"Do you have a point, or are you just going to waste my time?" you asked flatly, still typing.

"Okay, hear me out." He leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "What if I told you I know who Spider-Woman is?"

That made you pause. You looked up at him, your expression carefully blank. "And who do you think she is?"

Gojo grinned, leaning back in his chair like he was the smartest person in the world. "I think it’s one of my friends, you know. Someone really close to me."

Your stomach dropped, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you raised an eyebrow, feigning disinterest. "You really think the world revolves around you, don’t you?"

Gojo's grin only widened, as if your deflection confirmed his suspicions. "Oh, come on," he said, his tone teasing but smug. "I didn’t say everything revolves around me. Just most things. But Spider-Woman? She’s definitely orbiting somewhere in my galaxy."

You rolled your eyes, shoving a notebook into your bag. "You sound ridiculous, Satoru. Maybe Spider-Woman’s got better things to do than deal with your ego."

"Maybe," he mused, leaning forward on the desk, "or maybe she’s hiding in plain sight, pretending to be all calm and collected while secretly being a total under our noses. Just saying, I’ve got a pretty good radar for these things."

You froze yet again for the briefest second but recovered quickly, you grabbed your bags and shut your laptop close. Snapping your bag shut to go home. "Your radar’s broken," you muttered. "Try focusing on this project instead of your conspiracy theories."

He laughed, leaning back in his chair again. "You’re fun when you’re annoyed, you know that? But fine, I’ll drop it."

You didn’t reply, slinging your bag over your shoulder and walking away. But as you headed for the exit door, Gojo called after you, his voice playful and full of confidence.

"See you tomorrow! Spider- I mean y/n"

You didn’t stop, didn’t turn around, but your grip on your bag tightened. He was getting too close—way too close.

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As Gojo rode home in his sleek car, chauffeured by his driver, his mind buzzed with theories. He needed to confirm everything he saw. if you really were the spider woman. And to do that, he had to meet Spider-Woman again.

The idea made him grin—dangerous, mischievous, and reckless, just like always. How hard could it be to catch your attention? you always seemed to be around when things went south. Maybe it was time to stir the pot.

Satisfied, Gojo leaned back, staring out at the city lights as rain began to fall, pattering softly against the car window. He cracked the window slightly, letting the cool, damp air wash over his face.

The city looked alive, glowing under the rain-soaked streetlights. It gave him the perfect excuse to act on his latest harebrained idea.

He casually leaned forward, tapping his driver on the shoulder. "Hey, take the long route tonight. I need some fresh air."

The driver frowned in the rearview mirror. "It’s pouring, sir. Are you sure?"

"Positive."

He waited until the car slowed down on a quieter street lined with tall buildings. Without a word, Gojo suddenly threw the car door open and bolted into the rain.

"Sir?!" the driver shouted, slamming the brakes, but Gojo was already out of sight.

Ignoring the downpour, Gojo sprinted to the nearest building and grabbed hold of the fire escape ladder. He climbed effortlessly, raindrops sliding down his face as his soaked clothes clung to him. His breathing grew heavier, but exhilaration coursed through him as he reached the rooftop.

Drenched and panting, he stood at the edge of the rooftop, his grin widening as he looked down at the shimmering streets below. Rain fell harder, a steady roar that filled the silence around him.

"Alright, Spider-Woman," he muttered, his voice almost drowned by the rain. "Come and save me."

And with zero hesitation, he stepped off the edge.

The rush of air and rain hit him like a shockwave, his hair whipping back as he plummeted. The ground raced toward him at an alarming rate, the city lights blurring into streaks. Arms spread wide, Gojo’s grin never faltered.

This is either the dumbest or the smartest thing I’ve ever done, he thought, completely unbothered.

Before the thought could settle, a sharp thwip pierced through the sound of rushing wind. A sticky, webbed line wrapped around his waist, yanking him upward with jarring force.

You reeled him up in seconds, landing you both on a nearby rooftop with a thud.

Gojo looked up at you, still grinning despite the rain dripping from his hair. "Took you long enough."

You let go of him roughly, stepping back with your hands on your hips. Your mask couldn’t hide the sheer disbelief in your voice. "Do you want to die?"

"Not particularly," he replied nonchalantly, shaking water from his hands. "But I did want to see you."

"I thought we agreed you weren’t going to do this again. Why?" you asked, crossing your arms and tilted your head.

The rain was still pouring.

Gojo, however, didn’t seem fazed. In fact, he was grinning as he sauntered closer, closing the distance between you until his chest was practically brushing against yours.

His thoughts, clearly, were somewhere else entirely.

"You two are the same height too," he murmured under his breath, almost like he was talking to himself.

"What are you—"

"Never mind," he cut you off, shaking his head as though to clear it.

You glared at him harder, not in the mood for his games. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Well," he began, dragging out the word like it was some grand revelation, "I never actually said I’d stop, did I?"

Your eye twitched inside your mask. "you were apologizing that day."

"And I did. But that does mean I would stop." he nodded as if his logic made any sense and smiled. his white hair flopping.

"That’s not how this works—"

"And besides," he interrupted again, this time actually pouting. "You didn’t reply to me."

You stared at him in disbelief as he stomped his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. The audacity of this man.

"You nearly died because I didn’t reply to your ridiculous email?" you snapped, your voice rising.

Gojo leaned back dramatically, as if your words had physically struck him. "Ridiculous? Wow, okay, now I’m offended."

"Good," you shot back, pointing a finger at his chest. "Maybe you’ll think twice next time you decide to jump off a rooftop!"

He grinned again, leaning in closer until your finger pressed against his chest. "Maybe I just wanted to see you. Is that so bad?"

Your hand fell to your side as you took a step back, suddenly feeling like the air between you had shifted. His grin softened, his blue eyes locked on yours like he could see right through the mask.

Then, he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear despite the cold rain. His voice was low, almost a purr.

"I know who you are, Spider-Woman. I know you."

Before you could respond, he tilted his head slightly and pressed a kiss to your neck through the damp fabric of your suit.

Your heart raced, each beat pounding louder than the rain in your ears. You froze, every nerve in your body on high alert. He knows.

How did he—?

How?

His proximity, his voice, the way he had shifted so quickly from pouting and stomping to this... whatever this was.

You need to go... oh God. He really knows. You need to walk up from whatever spell he put you on. You had thought he was just guessing.

You tried to steady your breathing, backing away step by step, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a physical force. Your heart was pounding, and your mind screamed at you to move, to get away.

Without another thought, you turned and bolted. You didn’t even know where you were running to—just that you needed to get far, far away from him.

The rain has already soaked through your suit as you leapt from the rooftops, your breath ragged. You needed the ground beneath your feet, something solid, something real to convince yourself this wasn’t happening.

“Y/N! Spider-Woman!”

His voice cut through the night, growing louder as he chased after you.

You ducked into a dark alley, pressing yourself against the wall and trying to disappear into the shadows. Your hands shook as you pulled off your mask for a moment, letting the cool air hit your face. Is this a dream? Did he really kiss my neck?

The realization felt like a storm raging through you, and you couldn’t tell if it was fear, embarrassment, or something else entirely that was making your hands shake.

His voice echoed through the dark alley, persistent and determined, but then came a sudden, panicked scream. It wasn’t just him anymore—you could hear other voices, aggressive and threatening.

Your instincts took over as you pulled your mask back on and bolted toward the sound.

Two men were on him, struggling to take whatever valuables they could find. Gojo was on the ground, his usual confidence replaced by a rare flicker of panic. He was trying to fight off the best he could but with no results.

It took seconds to act. You swooped down, taking them on swiftly. One man lunged with a knife, and though you dodged, the blade grazed your arm, leaving a sharp sting. Gritting your teeth, you didn’t let it slow you down.

With precision and force, you subdued them both, tying them up before they even had a chance to realize what had hit them.

Once they were secured, your eyes flicked to Gojo. He was still on the ground, staring up at you with wide eyes, his usual grin nowhere to be found. You gave him a quick once-over—he seemed fine, just shaken.

Satisfied, you turned away, preparing to launch yourself back into the air. But just as your feet left the ground, a strong hand grabbed your ankle, yanking you down.

You gasped, flipping upside down as he pulled you back, leaving you dangling face to face with him.

“I... I’m fine,” he stammered, his voice trembling slightly but growing steadier with every word. His eyes, filled with something you couldn’t quite name, locked onto yours. “But... stay with me. Please.”

The rain continued to pour around you, the alley dim and quiet except for the sound of your breathing and his desperate plea. It's a narrow space making him really close.

Your back pressed against the wall, your breath shallow, and your heart racing so loudly you swore he could hear it. Gojo’s gaze stayed locked on yours as he stepped closer, his confidence unwavering. There was no escape now—not from him. He already knew, and the realization sent a wave of both dread and relief washing over you.

Before you could muster a word, his hand slipped to the back of your head, his touch firm yet gentle. He leaned in and kissed you—through the mask.

It was awkward and strange—kissing upside down with fabric between you—but the tenderness in the gesture made you freeze. His lips moved softly, unhurried, as though he wanted to savor every second. Your eyes widened in shock, your mind screaming at you to move, to do something. But your heart? Your heart betrayed you, hammering so wildly you feared it might give everything away.

When he pulled back, a small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His blue eyes, piercing even in the rain-drenched darkness.

Your grip on the web tightened, trembling slightly as you brought one hand to the edge of your mask. Rain trickled down your face as you hesitated, the moment stretching endlessly before you finally pulled it off.

The mask fell away, revealing everything you’d tried so hard to hide.

Gojo’s smile widened, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to. You saw it all in his eyes—the understanding, the mischief, and something deeper, something that made your chest ache.

Before he could react, before he could say something to break the moment, you pulled him in, your lips meeting his with a sudden urgency.

The kiss was real now—no barriers, no hesitation. It was raw, messy, and electric, the rain soaking both of you as the world around you faded into nothing. His hands moved to steady you, holding you like he didn’t want you to slip away again.

Gojo's lips trailed from your mouth to your cheeks, then to your nose, each kiss lingering as if he were trying to memorize every part of you. When he reached your neck, the position—hanging upside down—made the blood rush to your head, amplifying every sensation.

His lips were warm and soft, his movements deliberate as he left a trail of kisses along your skin. When he reached the sensitive spot just below your jaw, you couldn't help the small, involuntary moan that escaped your lips.

Gojo froze for a moment, his lips still pressed to your neck, before he chuckled softly against your skin. "Was that a moan?" he teased, his voice low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine.

"Shut up," you muttered, though the words lacked any bite. Your breath hitched as he kissed that same spot again, slower this time, and your grip on the web tightened.

He didn’t let up. His kisses became softer, deeper, as if he were trying to consume every sound you made, swallowing each gasp and moan like they were his own. His arms tightened around you, holding you in place as if afraid you'd disappear the moment he let go.

"Gojo," you whispered, voice shaky, barely audible over the sound of the rain.

"Say my name again," he murmured against your skin, his tone smug but laced with something deeper.

You wanted to push him away, to regain some sense of control, but his lips found another sensitive spot, and your resolve crumbled. The way he kissed you, the way he held you—it wasn’t just playful anymore. There was an intensity in his touch, a need, a desperation that mirrored your own.

"Let me breathe," you managed to say between gasps, though the words were weak and your hands betrayed you by gripping his shirt instead of pushing him away.

"Not a chance," he murmured, a grin evident in his voice as he pressed another kiss to your neck.

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THE UPSIDE DOWN KISS JDMIFHJFNRUBFDEIEOFNUGBF

happy birthday my glorious king 🤴 🔵👄🔵

(idk who the artist is but credit to them)

some google searches about our oiled and double caked up king

@river-ride , @that-b-word-lol , @meforpr3sident , @khenanadeche , @webreathfandoms , @tykaii , @uniquecutie-puffs , @strxberryicecream , @tbzzluvr , @haruhatake , staarflowerr , @kouyoumarryme , @ash--007 , @junglejuicee , @nora-soramame , @exquisitelion , @elitesanjisimp , @bitchycloudstrawberry , @koshhin , @izzyb3ll4 , @sugurubabe , @qualitygiantshoepsychic , @dann-acalle , @izabellamendo , @aimsky , @khaleesihavilliard , @gumiiiiezzzz , @quinny23 , @lillycore , @ranatherealestsigma , @minaa-06 , @gorgeousgust , @rreveurdoll , @yourgirljasmine5 , @arabellasolstice , @whytfisgojosohot , @ilybbg , @ravenmoore14 , @jeon-blue , @beautiful--macabre , @r0ckst4rjk , @insomnicshello , @hakuwaii , @cherriee-ee , @fandomqueen696 , @nitskilanara , @souryoufka

“Please?”

“No.” 

“You’re missing out.” 

“Caleb, we’re literally in a Burger King.”

"Doesn't mean you can't be my main meal"

-> the subtle transition of caleb from puppyboy pathetic to daddycore yandere bucks my knees and makes me weak :C

Newt: when i said “bring me back something from the beach” i meant like a seashell

Thomas, struggling to hold a seagull in a bag: well you didn’t fucking say that, did you

PRE-BOYFRIEND!CALEB who admires you from a distance, puppy eyes full of passion and devotion. A smile was always drawn on Caleb's face every time he looked at you, his heart beating a little faster every time you looked at him and returned the smile. “I can swear you were created by gods and stars. it is impossible for a person like you, a soul like you, to be fully human.”

PRE-BOYFRIEND!CALEB who would in full seriousness introduce you to his friends in the fleet as an "angel"- he is convinced you are one and boom—his friends were calling you 'Angel' like it was printed on your birth certificate, no questions asked.

He would also use cheesy lines as "Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" which in response only would earn him a light smack. He adores you too much.

PRE-BOYFRIEND!CALEB who finds peace in your arms, not having any shame in asking you for a hug. Between smiles and winks, Caleb would use his sweet voice to persuade you to wrap him in a strong hug, a quick hug, a playful hug — it didn't matter what kind, it just had to be yours. "It is written in the stars. if you don't give me a hug, your arms will fall off, or worse you will explode!i’m just looking out for your well-being pipsqueak.”

Levi Ackerman the man that you are

Dazai's eng va said bsd would be over sooner if ranpo was given a gun so

Dazai canonically rambling about his loved ones at every possible opportunity is so dear to me.

Mori knew a lot of the things he did about Oda because Dazai told him. Akutagawa also knew about Oda and how important he is to Dazai because of Dazai's ramblings. Random, unnamed PM members know about Oda being very dear to Dazai, because Dazai praises him and talks about how great he is.

Chuuya knew straight away that Dazai had been speaking about him to the ADA. It wasn't something he expressed feeling betrayed or suprised about. It was just an immediate understanding that of all the ways they could probably have known about him and his ability despite it being confidential information in the PM, Dazai's ramblings were most likely the reason.

The way that Dazai speaks about Ranpo to quite literally anyone who will listen. To Fydor, to random cops, to Atsushi.

Dazai canonically brags about the people he cares about in an 'omg omg omg my person my people I love them look how amazing they are' way.

Unjust Tears

Sylus x Pregnant Fem!Reader

Nothing rains on your mental parade like a bad day. So bad in fact that it brings you to tears. Good thing husband is there to save the day!

Labels: fluff, cursing, attempt at non-consensual touching, allusion to vomit, vague description of kidnapping, implied torture/murder

Wc: 2.2k

Whoever said pregnancy was a beautiful thing was a dirty liar. At least that's how it seemed after such a long and taxing day. It started in the morning, when you had to ask twin troublemakers, Luke and Kieran, for help with putting on your shoes. At almost eight months pregnant, needing help with getting your shoes on wasn't anything new, but usually Sylus was the one to help you with that. He, however, had to leave for an early meeting with some dealer who thought he was too great to wait for the King of the N109 Zone, so he wasn't there to assist you. You loved the boys, but having them help you with this felt just a tad embarrassing; even if they didn't mind.

The second difficult experience of the day came when you tried to eat breakfast. Your private chef had prepared something that you were normally okay with, but today? It might as well have been prison slop. You turned the plate away before it was even set down in front of you, on smell alone. It was pungent and made your stomach turn. So what did you have instead? A peanut butter and jelly sandwich. With pickle slices and a side of orange juice. You were only able to eat about half of it before you noticed the chef give you a barely-there-but-still-visible side eye, and suddenly the sandwich was very unappealing. You excused yourself, citing that you felt full with only half the sandwich (another recurrent problem you had but that wasn't true at the moment) and went about your day while trying to shake off the shame.

You planned on going shopping for more baby clothes, despite already having plenty. After all, it never hurt to have a few extra clothes for your little one. Actually it was probably a good idea, since there was no telling just how many times you'd end up have to change the baby into some clean clothes. It was here that you met the next inconvenience on the list: the elevators in the base weren't working. They were having regular maintenance done, and it wouldn't be done until a couple hours later. The only one that was still currently running was the elevator that went strictly between the penthouse and the second highest floor of the base.

It was frustrating, but you were undeterred, refusing to back down from this metaphorical beast. So, brilliantly, you decided you'd try going down the stairs. It started well, really. You were taking them slow since you couldn't quite see past your bump, and Luke and Kieran were right on your heels to catch you in case you stumbled. After only a few flights though, you were winded and your feet were starting to hurt. Sylus may have bought you the best maternity shoes money could buy, but they weren't magic. You had to pop in on the closest floor to take a seat and rest. It was meant to only be a short break before you began your descent again, but your body decided it was nap time. So you fell asleep in a chair in the middle of the base, with the twins watching over you. By the time you woke up, the elevators were running again, but you couldn't stop beating yourself up over having fallen asleep like that.

So many inconveniences, and it was just barely about to be midday. What bad luck that the rest of the day followed in a similar pattern...

You were dead set on going to Linkon to look for baby clothes, wanting to see the sun and just generally some daylight instead of the N109 Zone's usual gloom. The ride there wasn't normally too long, but traffic on the freeway into the city was a nightmare. It took so long that you nearly peed yourself in the car. While you were perusing the many outfit options in the baby section, a random old lady came up to you and tried to touch your belly. You naturally smacked her away because, hello? You don't know her? She had the audacity to act shocked, and then everyone around you looked at you like YOU were crazy!? You didn't stick around for much longer after that.

You were hungry so you went to a nearby café for a snack to tide you over while you decided on what to buy for lunch. A stranger, for whatever reason, assumed you must've been there for coffee and got in your face about it. You screamed back at them before the boys - who had accompanied you - could do anything. It left everyone stunned as you stormed out, but the interaction ruined your appetite for the next hour.

Eventually, you managed to choose somewhere to eat, though mostly for the twins' sake. You didn't want them to be hungry just because you weren't. Luckily, your appetite came back just in time, and you were able to enjoy lunch for a while. Sylus also found some time to text you back in the middle of you eating, so that was a plus. This was the only good part of your day so far. And it stayed that way. He told you business was holding him up, so he didn't know when he'd be back home. It felt like a punch to the gut, and instantly brought your mood back down, leaving you unable to finish your meal. After lunch, the three of you decided to get dessert at your favorite ice-cream shop, but unfortunately it was out of your favorite flavor. You settled for your second favorite, but it wasn't nearly as good.

On the walk back to the car, someone bumped into you and nearly knocked you over. Luke caught you, thankfully, as Kieran called to the guy, but all you got back was a "Fuck off, Bitch!" During the drive back, some idiot who must've gotten their license by the blessings of an Etsy witch for ten gold nearly ran you off the road. On top of that, the ride was made almost twenty minutes longer because a gang war started on a main road and you had to take a detour.

By the time you got back to the base, your last nerve was worked about as thin as one ply toilet paper. The straw that broke the camels back however, came at dinner. The chef had prepared something delicious, you were devouring it, and it even seem like you were going to finish your food. That was until your baby - beloved parasite you couldn't wait to meet - decided it was time to practice their kickboxing with your ribs. In an instant, you felt full and couldn't eat anymore. Actually, it felt like what you managed to eat was going to be sent back up. You rushed to the nearest bathroom and knelt by the toilet for the next fifteen minutes until your baby calmed down. Your appetite didn't come back though, so your half-eaten dinner was discarded.

You laid down in bed, trying to relax, but could stop yourself from going over every little thing that happened today. Even now, you couldn't free yourself from whatever curse afflicted you. No matter what way you turned, you were unable to get fully comfortable in bed, your legs were sore from all the walking you did today, and your stomach felt empty and full at the same time. So as you turned the entire day over in your mind, again and again, you couldn't stop the stinging in you eyes.

Any other day, you would've gotten over it. Any other day, you would've stopped thinking about it hours ago. Any other day, the frustration would've fizzled out by now. But today? Today you didn't have Sylus by your side. You didn't have him to defend you from judgmental chefs or touchy old ladies. You didn't have him to carry down the stairs or drive you around. You didn't have him to avenge you against inconsiderate, self-absorbed assholes. You didn't even have him to hold you and tell you it was okay. So today, aided by the shackles of pregnancy hormones, the weight of the day came in the form of tears. Dripping down the side of your face and into your pillow.

You were so consumed by your emotions that you never noticed you husband coming in.

"Well this simply won't do." The words put a sudden halt to your sniffles and quiet sobs. You almost thought you had imagined them until Sylus came around to your side of the bed, kneeling in front of you and taking your hand. "Why are you crying, Sweetie? Who upset my gorgeous wife?"

You starting crying again, quite a bit louder this time. "Sylus, I had the worst day ever today!" You managed to say through sobs.

"Is that so? What happened?" His hand came up to stroke your hair, wiping away what tears he could.

After a few sniffles and gasps, you were able to speak. "First-!" You told him everything. Every little detail, from start to finish. The shoes, the chef, the oldest lady, the rude guy; all of it. And Sylus listened. So carefully, like you were telling him the secrets of the universe. He nodded and hummed along, and he didn't interrupt. He let you go on for as long as you wanted about it all. When you were done, he leaned forward and planted a soft, lingering kiss on your forehead.

"It seems the feisty kitten in front of me truly had the worst of days. Come here." Sylus got up from the floor and sat on the bed, turning to face you then helping you sit up as well. Then he hugged you. One hand on the back of your head, the other on your back rubbing up and down. You stayed like this, in silence, for several minutes before he spoke. "Do you remember what they looked like? The people who bothered you in Linkon?"

You sniffled and answered a simple, "Sylus, no." And that's all it took for him to back down from the idea.

"Alright, I won't go after a bunch of strangers, but I am firing the chef. I don't care how unusual the dish is, their job is to make you whatever you want and that's it. Any judgment is to be kept inside and off of their face. I'll have them replaced soon enough, but in the meantime, I'll stay home and make all of your meals. How's that?"

You nodded, hugging him tighter, or at least as tight as your belly allowed. "Sounds good."

"Luke and Kieran told me you haven't had a full meal all day. Is there anything you're craving right now?"

You think for a moment. After having a good cry, and having your husband by your side again, you think you might be able to stomach something. Like Sylus said, you haven't finished a single meal today, so you are pretty hungry. After some contemplation, you land on, "Strawberry yogurt and fries."

"Does it matter where the fries are from?" Like a good husband, he doesn't question the combo. The only questions he asks are the important ones.

"Do you not know where my favorite fries are from?" Hormones strike as visceral rage fills you at the thought that he doesn't know you inside and out.

"Of course I know, Sweetie. Just wanted to make sure you didn't want fries from somewhere else. I'll be back shortly." Sylus walks with a purpose out of your shared bedroom, making sure to fire the chef on his way out. The moment Luke and Kieran hear that, they pounce. Sylus already knew the gist of how your day went; the boys reported it to him the moment he walked through the door. He instructed them to wait for his say-so to take care of that disrespectful pest. He wanted to hear the true severity of the damage their critique caused from you first. He was never going to just fire the chef, but now he's certain they'll never see the light of day again. How unfortunate. Oh well.

True to his word, he comes back quickly. Your craving hasn't changed and he is safe from your wrath and your tears. As you eat, he massages your legs for you, the both of you relaxing as you watch a movie in your home theater. He's changed into a black sweater and white pants, and barely pays attention to what's on the screen. All his focus goes to you, and it makes you wonder what kind of day he's had. Did he have a bad day, too? Was it just as bad as yours? Maybe it was worse. Yet he doesn't say a word about it...

"Sylus, aren't you tired? You spent all day taking care of business, and now you're spending the rest of the night taking care of me. Don't you want to relax instead?"

His response is quick. Decisive. "I am relaxing. And no, I'm not tired. Even if I was, I'd never be too tired to take care of you."

Warmth blooms in your chest, spreading to the tips of your fingers and toes. It's moments like these that you know you married the right man, and you know he'll be a great father, too. You had a bad day today. Definitely one of the worse ones, for sure. But tonight, you'll sleep feeling lighter, at peace, because you know you have your husband to lift you up. After all, he thought your sadness was the greatest injustice in the universe.

You know you'll always be okay because Sylus has your back, and that's never going to change.

A/n: This is my first time writing in years and my first time writing for Sylus so sorry if he's ooc and seems like it was written by a raccoon with greasy hands and eyebags to mars

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

Morning glow✨⭐️