You Loved Him. But He Threw It Away.

So instead of bird that got zapped, I’m like a hairless chicken who was wrapped in live wire and then thrown at the president.

I fucking love this holy balls my face hurts from smiling and giggling so much y

welcome back to frat boy, bf! katsuki, but you're taking a nap and you miss his calls for the first time...

k<3 :

u home yet??

2 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

yo. you said you were leavin class 20 mins ago.

stopped somewhere?

4 missed calls – the loml <333

k<3 :

sweet girl. answer me

not fuckin playin

7 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

i swear to fuck if ur phone died again im gonna duct tape a charger to ur bag

10 missed calls – the loml<333

k<3 :

come on

please

just text me

by the time the clock ticks past 10 minutes, katsuki’s spiraling.

he’s already speed-walked home from campus—snarled at kirishima when he offered to tag along, ignored denki yelling something about pizza—and practically slammed the front door open.

he checks every room with increasing panic.

kitchen? empty. bathroom? lights off. your shoes? by the door. your bag? slung carelessly on the couch.

his heart’s in his throat now. he storms to the bedroom and—there you are.

sprawled out across the bed in your favorite hoodie (his, of course), wrapped in a nest of blankets like some cozy little shit, hair a mess, cheek smushed into the pillow. dead to the world.

katsuki just stops in the doorway. halfway between furious and relieved. he exhales so hard it sounds like a curse, raking a hand through his hair. “fuckin’ hell, woman.”

he watches the slow rise and fall of your chest, the tiny puff of breath from your lips, the faint twitch of your fingers as you shift slightly, still completely out of it.

he pads over slowly and crouches beside the bed, bracing himself on the edge of the mattress. just watching you sleep like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen and the most infuriating thing he’s ever dealt with.

you don’t even stir.

“called you ten fuckin’ times,” he whispers, brushing your hair away from your face gently, thumb lingering at your temple. “had my heart about to claw outta my chest.”

he glares down at your peaceful expression. “you couldn’t send one goddamn text?”

you snore a little.

he huffs out a soft, involuntary laugh and leans forward to kiss your forehead, lingering there for a moment.

“stupid girl,” he murmurs, voice rough now—not angry, just overflowing with that messy blend of worry and love and the kind of fear he doesn’t even want to name.

“you scared the shit outta me,” he says, voice barely audible now.

he kicks off his shoes, strips down to his hoodie, and climbs into bed beside you, dragging you into his chest like he needs to feel your heartbeat under his palm.

and maybe he does.

he buries his face in your neck, breathes you in, and closes his eyes—like maybe if he holds you tight enough, you’ll never slip away without him noticing again.

“you ever ignore my calls again, i’m gonna kill you… then bring you back just to yell at you.”

it takes a minute for your senses to catch up. the first thing you register is warmth—a lot of it. the solid wall of heat behind you, the weight of an arm slung heavy around your waist, a hand gripping your thigh like it belongs there.

you blink awake slowly, the sunlight slicing through the curtains, warm and golden against your cheek. your mouth is dry. your head is foggy. your entire body feels like it sank into the mattress and refused to surface again.

you open your eyes fully, only to find katsuki awake. already looking at you. already scowling.

he’s lying on his side, propped up on one elbow, messy blonde hair sticking up in every direction. his eyes are sharp—wide-awake, unblinking, trained directly on your face.

“you almost died.”

you blink. “what?”

“you almost died,” he repeats flatly, voice low and grumpy. “that’s the only excuse i’ll accept.”

you shift slightly, throat dry. “what are you—?”

“my calls,” he snaps, cutting you off. “my texts. ten fuckin’ calls, sweets. not a single goddamn word.”

you glance over at your nightstand. your phone is there. fully charged. blinking with a whole list of missed notifications.

“oh my god.”

your brain stutters through memories. class had wiped you out. you’d come home, tossed your stuff down, meant to take a quick nap—and clearly crashed harder than you thought. hard enough to sleep through ten calls and a boyfriend having a full panic spiral.

you roll onto your back, face him, voice small. “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t answer. you could’ve passed out, gotten jumped, gotten hit by a fuckin’ car for all i knew.”

your stomach turns with guilt. “i’m sorry…”

he exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face, frustration fading into something a little softer. “i came home ready to break the door down. thought i’d find you hurt or... i dunno... fuck.”

his voice breaks a little on that last word.

your chest aches. you sit up slowly, sliding into his lap and cupping his face with both hands. he doesn’t resist. just leans into you, his arms wrapping tight around your waist like he needs you right there, like it’s the most natural place for them to be.

“i just passed out,” you whisper. “like… sleep coma status.”

“you didn’t even flinch,” he mutters. “thought i was gonna have to check your pulse.”

you snort softly. “i was probably dreaming about you yelling at me.”

he squeezes your thigh, resting his forehead to your collarbone. “not funny. you’re not allowed to scare me like that again.”

you can feel his heart thudding against your chest—still fast, still a little shaken. you lean against him and whisper, voice quiet: “what happens if i do scare you again?”

he pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. something soft settles in his expression. that sharp edge in his gaze dulls just a little—not gone, but mellowed, focused. it’s the look he only gives you, like you’re the only thing on the planet worth softening for.

he thinks for a second.

“first,” he says, tone completely serious. “i panic. obviously.”

you snort.

“then,” he continues, brushing a thumb along your jaw, “i break into your phone, make it so the ringtone screams your name at full volume. every time. forever.”

you giggle. “that’s horrifying.”

“i’m not done,” he deadpans. “next, i put a gps tracker in your backpack. and your keychain. and maybe your bra.”

you raise a brow. “my bra?”

“don’t question my methods, woman. i need intel.”

you laugh again, leaning fully into him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. he goes quiet. arms wrap tighter around you, firm and warm.

“maybe... i’d hold you like this,” he says, low and sure. “and not let go for a long time.”

you close your eyes as his hand slides up your back, smoothing slow circles into your spine. the rest of the world fades out, tucked away beneath the weight of his embrace and the soft beat of his heart against your cheek.

“and,” he adds, voice barely a whisper now, “i’d make sure you never forget how much you matter to me.”

your throat tightens a little. you bury your face deeper in his neck, smile trembling.

“okay,” you breathe.

“yeah?” he murmurs, holding you a little closer.

“yeah. i promise not to scare you again."

there’s a beat of silence. then—

“good,” he mutters. “’cause i might start showing up to your classes and shit.”

you snort into his shoulder, brushing your fingers through his messy hair. “i promise i’ll keep my phone on ring from now on.”

“you better,” he grumbles, then pauses. “swear to god, i aged five years in seconds.”

you smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “you’ll still be hot, even gray.”

he gives you a dry look. “tch. you’re lucky i love with you.”

you grin. “i know.”

his eyes narrow. “oh, do you now?”

and that’s when it happens—he pulls back just enough to stare at you, eyes narrowed, before reaching up and squishing your cheeks between both hands, mushing your lips into a pout.

“you have to say it back,” he barks, holding your face like a grumpy old man scolding a puppy, his thumbs digging into your squishy cheeks. “or i’ll keep doin’ this.”

you try to speak, but it just comes out as a muffled, “i lubb youuuu.”

he snorts, his grin slowly tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“i love you more, sweet girl,” he mutters, releasing your cheeks.

your lips are still puffed out from where he squished your cheeks, but he kisses them anyway—warm and slow and just a little too soft for someone who was grumbling about murder five minutes ago.

his palm stays on your jaw, thumb brushing lazily along your cheekbone, as if he’s still making sure you’re real. your cheeks are still tender from where he squished them, the warmth of his palm lingering.

you feel him press a kiss to the top of your head, and you let yourself melt a little further into him.

wrapped up in warmth and safety and the ridiculous, overprotective heart of the boy who loves you more than he knows what to do with.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ this happened to me last week and i missed the opportunity to buy what i want from mcdonalds 💔 (the minecraft toys here are ASS) hope you guys enjoyed, also how do i make them fuck any suggestions 👉👈

Pheromone Spray; G.S

-In which you listen to Nanami's wife and order a pheromone spray that was supposed to make your husband go feral. Only, things didn't go exactly to plan.

A/n: This will be rewritten soon.

Pulling you hair up in a bun and sliding on your reading glasses, you sat on the floor in your guest bedroom closet as you scrolled on your laptop.

You’d gone out for coffee with Nanami’s wife yesterday. And she’d been going on and on about this perfume that had her husband, yes even the saint that was Nanami, acting like a man starved.

So of course, you were intrigued. Because for as long as you knew Nanami, he was a gentleman. So if that perfume worked that well, what would happen if she tried it on Gojo?

You’d tried a few different websites to find that specific perfume that Nanami’s wife used, but it was proving more and more difficult.

Finally, however, you’d seen it on a website buried amongst the others. And all they sold was this perfume, special lube and horny edibles. So of course you bought them all, using your own card that is. The total ended up being $263.35. Which, in hindsight, was way expensive and just about drained your account of all the money you had on there, but that was fine as long as Gojo didn’t look.

Sighing, you finally closed your laptop and took off your reading glasses before pulling yourself out of the closet.

Finally stepping out of the guest bedroom, Gojo, bless his heart, had been trying to find you for near about an hour. You’d convinced him to play hide and seek with you, and this was the perfect excuse.

“Found you!” Gojo tried to be slick as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Not too good at this game are you?” Acting as if he wasn’t stress sweating from how hard he was looking.

Rolling your eyes, you just smiled. “Of course, yeah. I’m terrible at it.” Your smile turned to a shit eating grin as you looked away.

“Hey, I checked your bank funds and it says you spent about $100 on The Sims?” Gojo had a teasing grin on his lips as you immediately pulled away, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Shut up,” you groaned, “I needed to get some more outfits but the patreon cost money and then I went down this rabbit hole.”

“Oh baby. Poor sweet baby. Of course you’d fall for shit like that.” Gojo sighed and pet your head, only for you to bite him. “Ow! If you wanted to fuck just say that!” He whined.

A month, a whole fucking month later, the package finally came in. And the packaging was pleasantly discrete.

You’d never yanked a package from the front porch so fast, immediately racing into your secret hideout, the guest bedroom, you locked the door, then ripped open the packaging. Smiling as you sniffed the perfume, it didn’t smell bad at all, it really smelled like your usual body mist you used.

Quickly, you spritzed it on, using probably way too much but you really wanted to see it work.

Grabbing the box, you hid it under the bed but paused when you heard the front door open and close. Shit. You’d forgotten Gojo had to go into the office.

But wait. This was perfect. You could try it out on him there. And if it did work, well, you could just giggle while Gojo struggled.

Immediately, you grabbed your keys and hopped into your car. Breaking a few traffic laws on the way there. You were just so excited. You loved watching the infamous Gojo Satoru, your finance, struggle. It just made you laugh every time. For example, you’d worn the Mean Girl’s Christmas outfit for Halloween last year, and refused to let Gojo touch you. So he was forced to rock a boner the entire way to the party, the whole party, and the way home. Of course when you got home he fucked you as hard as he possibly fucking could.

Walking into the office, you made a bee line for Gojo’s office. You didn’t notice other men at the office watching you. You had tunnel vision.

On the way there you had grabbed one of those bagels Gojo adored as an excuse to be there. Walking into his office, you smiled innocently. “Hey baby, you forgot to eat breakfast.” Setting down the little bag on his desk, you stood behind it, leaning back on it as you faced him.

Gojo smiled brightly, “Oh my god I’ll combust I love you so fucking much.” He near about moaned when he smelt the bagel. “I love you, I love you, I love you— is that a new perfume?” His eyes immediately locked onto your neck before glancing back up at you.

“Ummm, yes! Nanami’s wife gave it to me.” You laughed a little nervously, before tilting your head, “you like it?”

“Yeah you smell really good.” Gojo stood up from his chair, his hands leaning on the wood of the desk on either side of you as he pressed his face into your neck. “Really good.”

“Yeah? That good huh?” You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling his nose press against your neck like he was getting his fix or some shit.

“Fuck. Too good.” Gojo groaned, his pants growing tighter as a boner formed in his pants. His heart racing and his mouth growing dry.

One hand moved from the desk to grip your hip, bringing you flush against his body. “Shit,” he groaned into your neck, before pulling his face away and staring down at you.

About to say something, the door swung open to his office, and Nanami’s wife appeared. She paused, before smelling perfume and giggled. “You got it! Oh my god!”

Nanami appeared behind her, an amused look in his eye as he watched Gojo be in the same predicament as he was not even a week prior.

“I believe the ladies would like to go out for lunch. You have some paper work to fill out.” Nanami gave Gojo a stern look.

Gojo didn’t take his eyes off you before forcibly prying them away and looking at Nanami, “oh come on, my finance is here to see me.”

You grinned before pressing a kiss to his jaw sweetly, all while your hand teasingly trailing over his bulge.

Gojo had to muffle a groan, “y-you—“

“I love you baby, I’ll see you at home okay?” You winked at him before walking out with Nanami’s wife, giggling like school girls.

“What the fuck.” Gojo sat down with a grunt, his brows furrowed in frustration as he started down at the bulge in his pants.

“I tried to tell her it wasn’t a good idea to tell your fiancé.” Nanami sighed, about to turn around to head back to his own office before Gojo stopped him.

“Wait what do you mean? Tell her what?” Gojo eyed Nanami suspiciously.

“The pheromone perfume? My wife pulled that ridiculous prank on me last week. While I’ll admit, she did it at home so it wasn’t really a problem.” He pulled at his collar slightly as he remembered the hours he spent ‘reminding’ his wife about what he thought of her pranks. He fucked her all night and took off work the next day to use the perfume again.

“You’re joking.” Gojo stared at him, his jaw clenched. “And she’s just gonna leave me like this?”

Immediately, he pulled out his phone to look at her bank account, noticing that she only had $1.22 left and that she’d spent $263.35 on that fucking perfume. “Well shit.” Pulling out his phone, he immediately sent the text that he’d be waiting for her at home, and that’d he’d needed to come early due to ‘being sick’.

“He loved it! Loveddddd it!!!” You smiled widely as you spoke with Nanami’s wife, all giggles and smiles when you got that text. “Wait, shit. He said he’s not feeling good, do you think he’s sick from it?”

Immediately your face dropped, “can that happen?” Looking over at your friend, concern written all over it.

“It didn’t happen with me and Ken, but I don’t know. Gojo may be allergic to it?” She frowned.

“Here, I need to head home. Can I pay you back for the lunch tomorrow?”

“Nonsense. I got you into this mess. Go make sure he’s okay, I know you’re worried.” Nanami’s wife shooed you off and you were thankful as you rushed home.

Walking inside, you looked around and noticed all the lights were off. “Baby? I’m home. You said you weren’t feeling well, what’s wrong?” Turning on the light, you walk into the kitchen not noticing Gojo, who was in nothing but a pair of grey sweats. The outline of his painful looking boner showing through the fabric.

“Welcome home.” He wrapped his arms around you from behind, glaring down at you, “your little perfume prank today was not very funny.” He huffed.

“Wha-“ You paused, “wait. How did you find out about it?”

“Nanami.” Gojo pressed a kiss to your shoulder, all the way up your neck before biting down hard on your shoulder making you gasp. “Fuck you still smell so good.”

“You can’t blame me, the way she said it drive Nanami crazy… I just wanted to try it on you.” You tried to be all cute and sweet, but he was not having it.

“I can blame you. Because you left me there to deal with it all on my own.” His fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, before roughly palming at your breast. “You’re so mean to me.”

A soft whine slipped past your lips as you let your weight lean against him. The feeling of his large hands roughly grabbing all over your body had your thighs squeezing shut.

“But this is what you wanted right? Hm baby? Wanted me to be rough and manhandle you, that it?” His voice was mocking and his tone condescending. Teeth nipping at your neck and jaw as he ground against your ass. Stuttered and breathless moans were muffled as he buried his face in your shoulder.

“Y-yeah, wanted you to be rough with- fuck, with me.” Placing your hands against the cold granite of the counter, you leaned forward so you could your ass against him completely, moaning softly when he’d grip your hips roughly before pressing into you.

“You definitely need to be punished.” Gojo nodded to himself, pupils huge and dark, his hair sticking to his forehead as a light layer of sweat coated his skin, “and you’re not getting out of it anytime soon.”

In a way, your plan worked. You got to see him squirm at work. And in the end you got what you wanted, just for a lot, lot longer than you’d imagined. Seeing as Gojo didn’t even show up to work the next day as he was far too busy fucking you in every room and on every piece of furniture in the house.

I mean from the bed, to the dress, to the floor and closet. To the shower, to the hallway and to the kitchen. And all throughout the house.

By the time Gojo was finally shooting blanks and his cock was so sensitive that he’d hiss if you were to touch it, he finally began to calm down.

And instead of punishing you more by making you sit on his face while your overstimulated, he just wraps his arms around your naked and exhausted body and refuses to let go.

Lololol I love the idea of some shitty perfume making your bf go batshit crazy for some puss.

Larry Johnson who…

Refuses to let you out of bed once he has his arms wrapped around you. Back against the headboard, you between his legs with your back pressed against his chest.

You’d been moving around Larry’s apartments the entire day, cleaning every single room until it was spotless.

Larry couldn’t understand it, poor man just wanted to wrap you up in his arms, smoke a blunt and get cozy for a movie.

And it took all damn day to get you into bed with him. And when he had you with him, you wouldn’t be moving for the next four hours.

His long hair was tied into a messy bun, courtesy of you skitzing about his hair tickling your neck, and he rested his chin on your shoulder. Watching as you rolled a blunt with the manga flavored cigarillo shell you’d snagged from Sal earlier that day.

“I don’t think mango’s gonna taste good.” Larry mumbled, his breath fanning your neck.

“Hush now,” reaching behind you, you blindly touched at his face till you found his mouth, “it’ll taste amazing.”

It in fact did not. Larry coughed like it was his first time hitting a blunt and cringed. His nose wrinkling as he immediately handed it back to you. “Like I said, it doesn’t match.”

“I dunno what’s wrong with you, but this shit slaps. Thank you very much.” You just huffed, and took a deep drag before blowing it in his face.

“You are so lucky I’m in love with you.” Larry rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms tighter around you.

“You’re obsessed with me.” You grinned before paying attention to the show Larry had begged you to watch with him.

I'm in my Sally Face era for the billionth time 🤭

“Why are you so clingy?” P.4

—In which, after waking up in bed with a certain someone, you start to question things.

A/n: this is wrapped up in a nice little bow. (Final part.)

<<part one, part two, part three

You didn’t open your eyes when you woke up. Your head ached, absolutely pounding.

Fucking wine.

And even tho you had a hangover that was just as bad as a kidney stone, the warmth you felt around you was intoxicating. It had you sighing softly and curly further into said warmth.

Except, said warmth loved.

Said warmth had a heartbeat.

Said warmth smelled fucking amazing and painfully familiar.

Forcing your eyes open, your whole body tensed when you were met with a muscular chest. Then the feeling of strong arms wrapped around you registered—

Oh shit.

Immediately, you sat up so fast it had Gojo jolting away. His voice rough and gravelly from sleep, his eyes squinting as he looked up at you. “What’s wrong, sweets?”

“You— You. WHY are you in my bed?” You tore at out bed so fast you were tripping over your own feet. Almost busting your ass as you yanked on a hoodie over your shirt and a pair of sleep shorts. “Did we— oh god. Oh no.”

Your skin crawled. You were mad. So mad. Mad and sick. Your stomach hurt. Why did you do this?

“What? No. You got drunk last night off wine, and I took you home. You kept whining about wanting me to stay so… I did.” Gojo shrugged and rubbed his eyes, before sitting up, back against the head board.

“..oh.” Now, that anger was replaced by embarrassment and that sick feeling only deepened.

Ok. So this is my fault.

“Relax, we didn’t do anything.” Gojo crossed his arms, biceps flexing as he did, “but we could if you wanted to.” He winked.

“You are insufferable.” You rolled your eyes, finally calming down. Putting a hand on you temple, trying to calm the migraine— you made your way into the kitchen. “This is so fucking stupid. Fucking wine.”

Chugging down a glass of water, you stared at the stove top. That was, until you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist.

And oh, that feeling of warmth and that familiar scent. It felt so nice, and yet so sickening.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” Gojo murmured against your shoulder, not missing the way you side eyed him.

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t remember?” His brows were furrowed now, almost offended.

“No??”

“You said you loved me. That you missed me.” Gojo filled in the gaps, and turned you around in his hold. Eyeing you with so much hope.

You stared at him for a long time, a long long time. Debating whether or not that was true, regardless it didn’t matter. “So what? Not like we’ll ever get back together.” You pulled away, huffing at the way your heart ached slightly as his shoulders slumped.

“Wait what?” Now Gojo was pulling you back. “It does matter, because if you do love me, we can— no we need to get back together.”

“And why would I? You’ll just become an asshole all over again. Remember? ‘Why the fuck are you so clingy?’” You did air quotes before slapping his hand away.

“But— but come on now, I’m— I was stupid. I took you for granted. I’d never do that to you— not ever, ever again. I will spend the rest of my life making you see how I’ve changed if I need too.” Taking a step closer to you, “please, please just give me another chance. Do you want me to get on my knees? Want me to beg?”

You glaring at him, “yes.” You didn’t think he’d do it. When you’d dated him before he was all pride. ‘Worlds strongest’ this and ‘chosen one’ that.

However, your breath stalled in your throat when he knelt down in front of you, literally on his knees as his hands found your hips. His eyes almost puppy like as he literally begged you.

Like a sinner at an alter, pleading for forgiveness.

You hated how much you like it. How it made you so happy to see him like this. So weak that he’d beg— on his knees.

“Please baby, I swear on everything— I swear on my eyes that I’ll never hurt you again. If I ever do— you can have them.” He pressed gentle kisses to your knuckles.

You swallowed thickly, your heart pounding in your chest. “…you ever, and I mean ever, talk to me like you did— behave like you did, to me again— I’ll hold you to that swear.” Your hand held his jaw, fingers digging into his jaw.

He nodded so fast, and when you pressed your lips against his, he was just as fast to stand up. Kissing you like a man starved and you were a tall glass of ice cold water.

Gojo’s hands held your hips in an iron grip, pulling you flush against him. Lord he was moaning into the kiss, murmuring about how thankful he was— how much he missed this, missed you.

You weren’t much better. Your nails clawed up his arms, his chest, dragged through his hair just to tug slightly hard.

“Missed you so— fucking much.” He grunted against your lips. Already hard and throbbing and oh so pathetic.

“You really are a desperate ex.” You smiled against his lips.

“Yeah, ‘m desperate for you. Sure as shit not your ex anymore.” He leaned down to press bites and nips all across your shoulders.

Now that had you smiling. “Yeah. Not my ex anymore.”

Your next kiss was sweet, all love and adoration.

This time, you knew he wouldn’t fuck this up. Who’d want to lose their eyes?

reblog if you’ve read fanfictions that are more professional, better written than some actual novels. I’m trying to see something

Vent #2

Do you ever pause and realize that you could die alone and be utterly and impossibly alone for the rest of your life?

I’ve never had a boyfriend, only have ever done a few kisses here and there. Never held someone’s hand, never been held, never got to have these cute little moments that I love to write about.

I crave it. I crave love so much that it’s all I ever think about. It makes me sick. Thinking about it, it makes me feel like there’s bugs under my skin.

I live in Alabama. Deep South. The people around me have this mindset of: graduate, boyfriend, college degree, husband, babies, retirement if possible.

But for the life of me, I cannot find someone that matches me— and if I do, they aren’t attracted to me or vice versa.

I see these people that are so in love, are so comfortable with each other and in their own skin and all I can do is sigh.

I want to be loved sooo bad. I guess that’s why I get so giddy and excited when people like the shit I write— even if it is bad. It’s validation that someone out there likes the words I put on a virtual page.

I think that maybe it’s the people around me— I’m born and raised in Alabama, I love to fish and hunt. I love mud riding and rodeos. I love working with horses and cattle. But I don’t get love back from that.

I love my friends, but I don’t think that they truly love me. Not really. I’m just that friend that’s always down for whatever, anytime of the night or day— I’ll drop everything to come hang out.

And maybe I need therapy.

If I was rich, I’d pay for someone to love me. Pay them so much they’d make it so real I’d think it was real. Get lost in that domestic life— the husband comes home from work, I get to pamper him then go out fishing. We come back, cook together, he goes to sit in the big recliner and relax and I’ll do the dishes while asking about his day. We’d watch a movie with the dog beside us, then go to bed and do it all again.

Oh I’d sell my left kidney and lung for that.

On another note, I was doing the sock method on my cart and the broke through the hole in the sock and broke my mirror— crazy shit. Lmk if you wanna buy me a muha, ill let you take my kidney and left lung.

𝘏𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘢𝘴𝘧 𝘳𝘯…

Hear me out— random ass gojo headcannons cause it’s Wednesday 😏

“Babe— strawberry or vanilla? Or should we do blueberry?” Looking up at your blue eyed bimbo (lovingly), you gesture towards the freezer section with ice cream.

“Uhhh… all of it.” Gojo grinned, and pulled out his card, only for him to pause when he feels your hands pulling him in by the belt.

“Oh my god I’m literally in love with you.” You grinned and kissed his jaw, nails lightly grazing his v-line through his shirt.

“You are an easy woman to please.” Gojo snorted, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

I feel like he would deadass be the type to like rest his hand in the pocket between your tits and where the bra like peaks out a little. And we all know this man got some long fingers and a big hand too. I FEEL IN MY BONES that he would trace the curve of your tit, from like the center of your boobs to the other side. And he would not give a damn.

You and Gojo are at a benefit dinner he was invited to, so of course by extension— you. You were dressed to the nines, looking fine as hell with a wine red dress on. It hugged your curves perfectly, tits pressed together looking amazing in that deep v-neck.

Gojo had an arm around you maybe the whole night. Especially when you got a little tipsy from all the sips you’d been stealing from his glass all night. He had your back pressed against his chest, arms wrapped around your waist keeping you flush against him. His lips near your ear, whispering things that ranged from cute to downright despicable. His hands fit perfectly on your waist, and they’d slowly slide up and down your sides. His lips giving gentle kisses to your neck, even going as far to bite down on your jewelry just to tease you.

But when the dinner dispersed into a little bit of a party, the dj definitely on some of that white powder iykwim. Rhianna cut on and your song started playing, hips swaying against him, freshly done up nails gently raking against his forearm.

And oh Gojo knew he was getting some when you tilted your head back against his shoulder and stared at him with those pretty little eyes. Batting your lashes and giving him that mega watt horny smile.

And to think, you two looked so wholesome and cute to the outside world. Little did they knew Gojo was rocking a full bone and pressing it into your ass.

“You are so beautiful,” Gojo murmured against your neck, grinning when he could feel your pulse pick up. “But you already knew that didn’t you, pretty girl?”

“Mhmm,” nodding, eyes closed with a satisfied little smile, you leaned into him completely. “Take me home and fuck against the counter?”

“Absolutely.”

You and Gojo were that crazy couple that were down to do anything. Party all night? You got it. Smoke weed? You got it. Get black out plastered? You got it. Piss off some tweakers? You got it. Flirt with random people to get a discount? Hell yeah!

Istg Gojo would be so turned on knowing that other men find you hot, knowing that they could never have you and only he could. Like he loves to make guys jealous. Hell, even women. Something about seeing that envy in their beady little eyes had his balls heavy and his tip leaking.

Someone embarrassed you? Man or woman, Gojo is petty but so are you. So when someone wants YOUR, yes YOUR man, Gojo is all with it when you wanna flaunt your relationship. This man is dressing in a suit and taking you out for cocktails and shrimp. And you two are taking all the pictures, even feeding each other and being so lovey dovey it makes a lonely bitch SICK.

But when a man wants you? Gojo’s girl? Oh hell. Gojo is buying you new clothes just for you to wear around when you pick him up from work. (Only did it so he could be passenger princess and brag about his girl.) And when he sees that look of jealousy in those men’s eyes- he laughs. Sometimes he’ll whip out his phone and take a picture.

This mf ain’t letting shit go neither. You talk shit about his girl? Fish are in your vents. How? No one knows. You think it might be Gojo- but you got no proof.

You try and pull up on his girl? Gojo is videoing his gf whooping your ass. And he will be posting that shit.

Y’all I am actually so fucking high rn I’m about to green out I can feel in my lady halls ( . )( . )

“Why are you so clingy?” P.2

—in which, 5 months after you broke up with Gojo, you see him again in a grocery store, and— he wants to be friends??

A/n: Prob gonna end up doing like an enemies-friends-lovers type shit. But it will not be quick. I refuse to just hand over y/n to him. 😒 I’ll bedazzle this when I get home.

<<part one, part three, part four>>

“You have got to be kidding me.” You sighed, opening up the fridge and realizing there was no more milk after pouring a bowl of cereal.

Rubbing a hand over your face, you sighed and grabbed a glass of water before pouring it into the bowl. Sitting down on the chair, and began eating your cereal.

Mid-bite your eyes roamed across your new apartment. It wasn’t the nicest. By any means. A big ass step down from the house you’d shared with Gojo.

It’d been five months since you broke up with him. Sure, you missed him. You missed the him he was at the beginning of the relationship. All sweet and loving. And no matter what, you’d always still have some love for him.

But the him now? Well.

“That motherfucker can eat shit and die.” Rolling your eyes, you took the last bite of your cereal aggressively. Thinking about the way he spoke to you had you angry all over again.

Putting the bowl into the sink, you moved over to the living to grab your car keys.

“Cannot believe I let him talk to me like that.” You mumbled to yourself, brows furrowed as you locked up your apartment before walking out to your car.

Sitting in the drivers side, you glanced at your phone, feeling the buzz, and paused.

You stared at the phone for a good long minute, before sighing and biting the bullet and replying. Maybe it wasn’t who you were thinking it was. Maybe it was some other person. Maybe.

“Is he serious right now? Are we deadass?” You had to close your eyes and take deep breaths. You used to love it when he’d call you pretty but now it felt so fucking condescending.

Staring at the phone, you wait for a reply. But you didn’t get one. His instant replies had turned into no reply, and it just had you rolling your eyes all over again. Putting the phone down, you pulled out the driveway.

“Okay— so I need milk,” listing off what you needed to get from the store, it only took a few minuets before you pulled into the grocery. Parking, and walking in, you kept repeating you list until you had most of it in the buggy. “—and I just need-“ you froze.

You froze, and you stared. Because right at the end of isle, was the same blue eyed bitch you did not want to run into.

Immediately, you turned around and began walking out of the isle. That is, until you felt an arm grip your wrist.

“Wait! Wait, just wait a second!” Gojo pulled you to a halt, his grip on your wrist so gentle it had unwilling memories of your relationship pop back up into your mind.

Glaring up at him, you snatched your wrist from his grip, “what.” And oh, the way you glared up at him had his heart racing, butterflies flying and bouncing all around his stomach at finally seeing you again.

“How- um, how have you been?” Gojo smiled down at you, albeit a little nervously.

“If you don’t get to the point Gojo I swear to god.” Your patience had already run thin— it’d snapped.

“Let’s be friends. I want to be friends.” Gojo blurted out, and immediately screamed himself mentally, because no, he did not want to be friends with you, he wanted to be your boyfriend again, he wanted to be yours, not some friend.

“Really? Friends?” You gave him an unimpressed look, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Yes! Friends.” He was already too far into the bit to go back, “I miss you. So fucking much. We don’t have to be what we once were— I just want to be friends. Like the good ol’ days.”

His words actually had you pausing. Thinking back, you and Gojo had always clicked so well, especially back when you were friends. It was so easy back then, so fucking easy.

“I don’t know Gojo, this doesn’t seem like a good idea…” you looked back down at the shopping buggy before looking at the exit, then back up at him.

“I can understand why you’re on the fence about this! I do! But can you honestly you don’t miss us being friends?” He could feel your hesitance, but hesitance was better than just a straight up rejection.

Groaning, you finally gave in. God you were such a pushover. “Just friends. Which means no talking about our past relationship— or anything like that! And no touching.” Glaring at his hands, you eyed him sternly.

“Yes! Thats great— perfect. I missed you so much,” he tried to pull you in for a hug, but you pushed him back by the chest.

“What did I just say?” Your brows furrowed and you took a step back.

“I’m sorry- my bad, my bad.” Hands up in defense, he took a small step back as well. “No touching, got it…. Sooooo, you free Saturday?” He tilted his head with a grin, “we can hang out? Like we used to?”

“I’m busy. Let’s just start with texting.” You sighed, ready to just leave with groceries and escape this awkward ass conversation.

“Alright, whatever you say, pretty.” Gojo shot you a charming smile.

“And don’t call me that.” You added, before just nodding awkwardly and turning to walk away.

Gojo watched as you walked away, his eyes softened, and his hands slipped into his pockets. “Fuck. I can’t do friends, why the hell do I do this to myself?” Mumbling to himself, Gojo walked down the aisle, and went to grab the certain brand of cookies he was wanting.

—

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