Phainon X Gn!scholar Reader, Phainon Is So In Love And Reader Is Oblivious

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ LUCKY — GOJO SATORU.

contents. baths + non sexual nudity, established relationships, tired toru :(, lots of kissies and praise for the babie :(, solid proof in the form of writing of how embarrassingly lovesick i am for this FOOL

it’s past midnight when satoru walks into your bathroom. he doesn’t even question why you’re in the bath so late—just gives you a lopsided grin tiredly as you smile.

“you’re home,” you brighten.

“look at you,” he coos, staring down at you with amused eyes, “waitin’ for me?”

satoru is tired—you can tell from the way the his shoulders are slouched and his blindfold is clutched in his hand. “i was,” you hum in agreement, “c’mere.”

it’s all it takes. he’s stripped down and waiting for you to move up so he can slide behind you in seconds, hand waving to motion you forward. but you’re stubborn—you shake your head as you hold an arm out for him.

“baby,” he whines, “c’mon i was out fighting big bad curses all day. jus’ lemme hold—”

“no. just come here, toru,” you insist.

there’s something about it—something about the way your voice is so gentle, so insistent, so knowing. it’s like you can read him more than he can, sometimes. satoru is tired, you can see it, you can feel it. you can’t carry his burdens, but you can hold him while he holds the weight of the world for a night.

maybe it’ll do for now—maybe it’ll even be enough and more.

“what? feelin’ like pampering me today?” he teases, “aren’t i a lucky guy,” he hums—but he climbs into the tub anyway, settling between your legs, leaning his back against your chest as his head falls back against your shoulder.

instantly, two gentle kisses plant themselves against his head, and his eyes flutter shut. he’s starting to feel the beginnings of a headache form—the gentle thump in his skull just barely there, but persistently present.

your thumbs rubs along the sides of his head, enough pressure to soothe the pain like you know it’s coming—he thinks you must.

“you are a lucky guy,” you giggle, “look at me. such a catch.”

he grins, chuckling that boyish chuckle of his freely in your arms as he relaxes. it’s been a while since he’s relaxed, you think—it’s half past midnight and he’ll be up with the sun in a bit to head back to the school, but it’s nice to know he’s relaxed. even just for this short, rare moment.

“oh yeah,” he nods, lips curled into a grin as he cracks an eye open and peers up at you, “s no catch like my pretty ‘lil baby. i’m living it up.”

“glad you know your privileges,” you murmur contently, shaking your head in amusement as you wrap your arms around his body. one hand rubs over his abs—he wants to tease you about feeling him up, wants to make a sly comment about missing his body more than him while he was gone. but there’s something about it, about the way it’s so slow and soothing and soft—it’s so painfully soft, satoru swallows.

finally, he lets his body go slack against yours, sliding down so his head rests against your chest and the water soaks more of his body. it’s warm. the water and your arms. it’s all so, so warm and forgiving.

“aren’t you gonna tell me how lucky you are too? i’ll listen, don’t worry. no interruptions.”

“yeah?” you chuckle, threading fingers through his hair and pulling a soft sigh from him, “wanna know how lucky i am?”

“course,” he murmurs, “well, i already know you’re lucky. it’s me after all—but i’m not opposed to hearing it.”

“how humble of you, satoru,” you snort.

he grins wider—he hasn’t had a chance to smile all day. not properly, at least.

“feel free to start any second,” he says with a wink. then his eyes flutter shut again as your thumb traces his cheek, ever so gently running along the soft angles of his face.

it’s pretty—everything about him is pretty. there are no ugly parts to satoru. just the parts painted from cruel hands. they’re beautiful too, you like to think, in their own, fragile little ways.

“okay,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his head, “i’m very lucky,” you murmur into his hair.

he hums, mumbling a quiet, “knew it.”

“lucky i have such a handsome face to greet,” you pepper kisses along his forehead and find his cheek, giving it an affectionate little bite that makes him huff out an amused chuckle. “and he’s so tall too,” you add, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“that all he is?” he pouts, “just a pretty face? you’re breaking my heart, baby.”

“no,” you say quietly, grabbing his hand and brushing a thumb over his knuckles, “he’s also kind. too kind, sometimes,” you say quietly, “he comes home a bit later than usual every once in a while because he took his students out to eat. he loves them a bit too much, i think.”

“no such thing as too much love,” he hums, squeezing your hand.

you smile, admiring him as he lays against you, small in your hold even with the larger than life weight he carries.

“and he’s strong,” you add, “really strong. it’s not fair sometimes,” you whisper, “he’s got so much on his plate.”

“he handles it fine,” he assures, “he always does.”

“and then he still makes time for little old me,” you say fondly, kissing his shoulder, “never lets me feel lonely. he’s too good to me.”

“there’s no such thing as too good for you,” he gasps offendedly, pouting like you’ve insulted him, “he’s definitely not—”

“and sometimes, he comes home tired. and he tries to act like he’s not because he’s a bit of a prick who doesn’t let me help, but i’m smart and i know him well so i’ve figured it out. and if i’m extra lucky, i might get to hold him for a bit like this and help him relax.”

you squeeze him gently for emphasis, holding him closer as you press your nose into his neck and breathe in his smell. it’s like cologne that’s rudely expensive and that sweet smell only satoru has—it’s all you want to breathe in for the rest of your days.

you hope he’ll allow you that much. something tells you he will.

satoru swallows thickly at that, rubs a thumb over your bare thigh as he rests his free hand over it, the other still in your grasp.

and then, quietly, “maybe he’s fine just coming home to you,” he shrugs, “who can stay tired with such a sweet face waiting at home?”

“i don’t know,” you say thoughtfully, “he’s got a lot to take care of. wonder how he does it.”

“he’s probably the strongest,” he shoots with an easy grin, “sounds like the strongest to me.”

“he is,” you nod, “he’s a lot more than that too. i’m lucky he’s mine.”

“oh yeah?” he drawls—there’s something a little shaky about his voice though.

you choose not to mention it, pressing soft, delicate kisses along his jaw as you murmur, “yeah. he makes me feel really, really lucky. love him so much.”

“love you too,” satoru breathes, “guess we’re both really, really lucky.”

don’t talk to me i don’t want to be perceived. that’s enough softness for a lifetime so the next time i write him he’s getting hit by a bus

Prompts where two characters are angry then start kissing?

You had no right to stop me!“ It burst out the second the door had closed behind them.

"You could have died.” Low, dangerous, coming at them with stalking steps. “You could have been hurt.”

“I’m not a child, I can-”

Fingers closed snarling on the front of their clothes, shoving them against the wall. A mouth crushed heated on their own and for a second the anger sputtered out stunned, before returning full force. Because if they hadn’t stopped them - because of this, because of this goddamn sentiment-

They flipped their positions, relishing the catch in the other’s breath. “You had no right.” Another kiss, breathless, drowning. A scrape of teeth against the other’s lip. Somehow, the ice of the other’s rage only boiled inside them more.

Nails raked unforgiving into their skin. “I had every right to protect what’s mine.”

DOUBLE KNOT TEASER PICS: LEE KNOW, SEUNGMIN AND HYUNJIN

Betrayal & Regret Sentence Starters

“I told you not to get too close to me.” “From the day we met, I knew I’d hurt you eventually.” “I wish you never had trusted me.” “I told you to leave, but you didn’t. I gave you the chance!” “We were never friends. I’m so sorry.” “I did something terrible.” “It was inevitable, but I regretted it every step of the way.” “I’m mainly sorry that somewhere along the way, I started to care about you.” “I guess this is a lesson in not trusting people, right?” “How long?…Since the beginning.” “I wish I could just make a wish and become a better person.” “None if it was real, but I wish it was.” “Do you think I liked hurting you?” “I hurt people. It’s all I’m good at.” “I did it because I had to, not because I ever wanted to.” “I -did- care about you, I just had no other choice.” “You should have walked away when you had the chance.” “If we had never met, it would have saved us both some grief.” “I know it hurts, but I’m still glad we had the chance to know each other.” “Hurting you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” “I didn’t want it to be like this, but I had no control!” “I guess I’ve just never been a trustworthy person.” “I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to forgive me either.” “So? Aren’t you going to say something?” “If I tell you what I did, we’ll probably never see one another again.”

“When were you going to tell me about this?” “Why me? Of all people, why me?” “You planned this all from the beginning?” “I wanted so badly to think you were different.” “How could you lead me along like that?” “None of what we had was ever real, was it?” “So, our friendship didn’t mean anything to you?” “I would have done anything for you, but you’ve ruined all of that.” “All of the things I sacrificed for you didn’t mean a thing?” “I wish I had known when we met that you were such a vile person.” “If I could go back, I would just walk away.” “I forgive you, but I’m not going to forget what you did.” “No. I don’t accept your apology.” “After all your lies, how do I know you mean it when you say you’re sorry?” “I hope you realized what you did was cruel.” “I still care about you.” “Just tell me that your feelings towards me were genuine.” “What on earth is worth betraying someone who loves you?” “If you want to regain my trust, you have to earn it.” “Don’t just say you’re sorry. Show me that you’re sorry.”

hello everyone!

i saw a lot of my mutuals reblogging stuff for writing and i thought i'd share my notes back from when i started writing and was obsessed to sound like i have a lot of vocabulary (i dont really care anymore now haha)

hopefully you guys can read my handwriting from years ago. english isnt my native language so i put down several explanations for a few words. i hope this can be useful to everyone who sees this :D

i have several other things in my notes (they're not too much compared to this list) but let me know if you guys want more :) im happy to help and share them.

i cannot promise that every single one is readable as my handwriting really changes over time 😵‍💫😵‍💫

taeyong is so fond of the dreamies ♡

“Can I tell you a secret?” They tugged their fiance closer. “I’m getting married tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Their fiance pressed them to wall, catching their mouth in a searing kiss. Playing at flings and strangers. “Tell your fiance they have excellent taste. I’m engaged myself. Lovely thing. Amazing eyes.”

“Fantastic kisser?”

“Now you’re fishing.”

Whumptober - day 30: major character death

(CW: death, blood loss, this one is just... pretty Sad, so be warned y'all)

“Villain,” Hero gasps through the phone. “I need your help.”

Villain frowns, rubbing their eyes and looking out the window. It’s not even dawn yet. And Hero’s never used the number they’d given them on a whim before.

Villain sits up in their bed, something cold pooling in the pit of their stomach. “What’s wrong?”

“I, I made a mistake. I thought I could do this on my own but there are so many…” Hero pauses as muffled noises fill the line. When they speak again, louder over screams and threats, Villain can almost see the fear lacing the words. “There are too many enemies, Villain. Can you... I need your help, can you please… I just, can’t– I, I can’t–”

“Where are you?” Villain cuts in, already slipping out of bed and into their suit. “Give me the address and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Hero says it, and without another word, Villain hangs up and rushes out of their house and into their car.

They’ve never heard Hero like that before. Vulnerable. Scared.

Not when they’d been a second away from losing the city to Villain, not when they’d been hurt, not when everything seemed impossible. Villain can’t stop playing it over and over in their head.

If anyone’s touched their Hero–

Villain steps on the gas pedal and races faster through the streets, dodging cars and pedestrians as they cross red light after red light.

They don’t take long to get there. Not even half an hour to a place they would usually take an entire one.

But in the end, it doesn’t matter.

Because when Villain gets there, barely parking before jerking the door open and sprinting out, there are no more fighting sounds. No roaring enemies. There’s only silence, deafening in its stillness.

Villain’s rushed footsteps stop as they spin in the middle of what used to be a warehouse, looking around the rubble as their heart fills the soundless void, hammering so loud against their chest that they barely hear it at first.

The sound of too fast, too shallow breathing. The almost silent whimpers that accompany it.

And then they see it – blood on the floor, nearly black under the fading stars, marking a trail to where Hero’s body lies limp behind a fallen pillar.

“No,” they whisper, frozen in horror at the sight of Hero’s blood-soaked uniform, their chest rising and falling in painfully erratic movements. “No.”

Hero moans, and Villain snaps out of their shocked daze, rushing to kneel by their side.

“Wake up,” they say through gritted teeth, cupping Hero’s cheeks and turning their pale face upwards. “Hero, wake up. I’m here, I came, now wake up.”

There’s too much blood. Everywhere. On Hero’s ragged uniform, feeding a crimson puddle under Villain’s knees, staining their hands.

“Hero, open your eyes!” Villain yells, voice cracking when despair filters in. “Look at me. Come on, I came as fast as I could, you cannot do this–”

“I knew it,” Hero coughs, voice small and hoarse. Their eyes flutter open a moment later. Villain nearly starts crying when their nemesis smirks at them. “Knew you’d come. When I called. I knew it.”

“Of course I’d come,” Villain huffs. As gently as they can, Villain lifts Hero’s head and places it on their lap before pulling out their phone and dialing the ambulance number, barely acknowledging how much their hands shake as they do.

“I thought I…” Hero mutters, throat bobbing when they swallow a moan, half-lidded eyes fighting to remain open. “Thought I could do it. Thought I could... win. I, I tried. Really… really did. B-but there were… so many of them.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay, I know you did. But now you have to try again, alright? You have to try and stay awake for me.”

Villain calls for help, all the while staring at Hero’s glazed eyes, their parted lips and colorless cheeks haunting in the dim light of the moon. Hero simply blinks at them, slowly, watching their lips move as Villain talks on the phone.

“Help is on the way,” they say as soon as they hang up, running trembling fingers through Hero’s blood-matted hair. “You just have to stay with me a little longer, okay?”

Hero nods, the movement reluctant and frail, but there. Villain tries to tell themself it’s a good sign, even when a moment later Hero whimpers and winces, their fingers curling over the gaping wound crossing their stomach.

Villain places theirs on top of Hero’s, and presses down. Hard. Hero wails.

“Sorry,” Villain whispers.

Hero leans their head back on Villain’s lap, neck bared as they stare up at their nemesis.

“Y-you’re scared,” they breathe.

“No, I’m not,” Villain replies with a frown, keeping their eyes firmly focused on the ever-growing puddle of blood around them both.

“It’s okay,” Hero says, free hand feebly finding its way to rest on top of Villain’s, their touch so terribly cold. “Don’t be scared.”

“Hero–”

“I’m not.”

A sob tears through Villain’s throat at that, both disbelieving and terrified.

“Stop that,” they croak, turning their teary eyes to Hero’s calm ones. They look almost peaceful, looking at Villain like that. “I know what you’re doing but help is on the way. You just have to hold on for a little longer. So stop trying to say goodbye.”

“’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to–”

“You came," they whisper breathlessly, voice wavering and cracking as they go on. "I, I called and you… came. Did w-what I asked, b-but I… can’t do w-what you're asking. I’m… sorry”

For a moment, Villain can only stare at Hero, tasting salt through parted lips as tears they hadn’t even realized were falling drip down their cheeks.

“Hero don’t you dare give up,” they snarl.

“I’m just so… tired.” Hero says as their eyes close, and for an instant Villain looks down at their chest, scared of what they’ll see when they do. But Hero’s chest rises, slowly, painfully, but rises, and then falls. Their eyes open back up a moment later. “Just wanna sleep.”

“No, Hero do not dare to close your eyes again.”

But they do.

Villain shakes them as gently as they can, and Hero dazedly blinks at them yet again.

“Keep your eyes on me,” Villain commands, pressing harder on their wound until a small sob slips out of Hero's lips. “Just a little longer, Hero. Please, just stay with me a little longer.”

“Sorry, Villain,” Hero murmurs, a too shallow breath making them whimper, mouth opening just long enough for Villain to see red shining around their teeth. “Can’t.”

“No, Hero, look at me!”

Instead, Hero’s eyes fall shut. Villain shakes them again, looking up when the distant sound of ambulance sirens reaches their ears.

“They’re here! Hero, help is here, just open your eyes one more time for me, alright? Just, just one more time, help is here.”

But when Villain looks back at Hero, expecting a hazy gaze and painful too-shallow breaths, all they find are closed eyelids and an unmoving chest.

“NO!” Villain screams, hugging Hero against their chest, hands slippery with blood as they clutch their enemy’s uniform and shake them as hard as they can. “Wake up! Hero, wake up, look at me! Come on Hero, don't die on me, please!”

Hero’s head lolls against their shoulder, almost as an answer, limp as Villain shakes them again and again.

Villain doesn’t let go. Not when Hero's skin starts cooling down in their embrace, not when the ambulance sirens become colorful lights, not when their throat feels raw as they scream into their nemesis’s bloodied hair.

But no matter how much they wish and scream and cry, Hero’s chest doesn’t rise again, and their eyes remain closed.

-

tagging @ladygwennn @burtlederp @despairdragon

jisung: chan truth or dare?

chan: truth

jisung: how many hours have you slept this week?

chan: dare

jisung: go to sleep

chan: i don’t like this game