#I think it's the voice of the guy in that song. or the line 'I've been lonely too long oh I can't be so strong' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tremendum · 6 months

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personal lies

[not my gif. title from the song of the same name, by Djo.] pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader (afab, use of she/her) rating: explicit. (18+. mdni.) word count: 5.6k requested: Hi! Your work is so insane and incredible! I've literally been thinking about Joel Miller nonstop and was wondering if you'd write a fic where reader is flirty but also has a way of getting herself into clumsy situations- like she bends over to grab something at a party and Joel turns around at the same time and he's pressed right against reader's ass- and these situations keep happening and she just bullies him about him being a pervert until he finally does something about it ;) Keep up the incredible writing!! summary: "when you were young, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - but he was just your dad's friend, someone who would make you blush strictly because he was teasing you. now, though - he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons." warnings: healthy age gap (reader is around 23, Joel is like 47), DBF!Joel, Mean!Joel, brat tamer!Joel, brat!reader, dom!Joel, semi-public sex, light voyeurism, choking, light dacryphilia, inappropriate use of household appliances, use of word slut, its dirty, slight allusions to exhibitionism, brief choking, so much dirty talk (its joel), so much degradation, reader calls Joel a pervert, teasing, slight dumbification, brief spitting, rough sex, unprotected PiV, cum play, spanking. think that's it!

notes: okay once again, another mean!Joel for the soul! its a problem! im happy for this request bc it helped so much with my writer's block. pls pls keep sending requests i love them all u guys are amazing.

[other Joel fics: i’ve got headaches and bad luck but they couldn’t touch you fever landmines Mr. Miller Series ]

★

the bathroom window fogs much quicker than it used to.

it's the first thing you've realized since returning back to your childhood home - the lack of use in your old shower, now empty of all the half-used floral shampoos and body scrubs of your youth.

you suppose it makes sense, with your father living on his own now that you're five years out of the house - he has no real need to shower in the bathroom you'd once used as your own. in fact, as you examine under the cabinets and the medicine cupboard, it seems as though he's converted it into a storage room for cleaning supplies and the odd bundle of cotton swabs.

it makes you grin as you massage lotion into your legs, staring at your foggy reflection.

your father's muffled voice from downstairs shouts something and, in lieu of a response, you towel off and wrap it around yourself, cursing your father for not restocking towels that were large enough to cover yourself in a modest way to your trek back to your room; not that it much matters, your father's friends won't be arriving for another hour and a half, at the least.

you're struck with something from your youth when you open the door, though -

and it grunts in response.

the breath leaves your throat as your eyes drag over the expanse of chest which lies just in front of the bathroom, with a hand extended almost as if he were about to open the door - muscular arms and a familiar wristwatch - certainly not your father's.

you gape up at Joel Miller, who stares, wide-eyed, back down at your form.

your face floods with an immense amount of heat; Joel Miller, your father's closest friend.

you haven't seen him since last summer - and before then it was even more scarce. between college out of state and splitting summers with your father and mother, before your visit home last summer, you don't think you'd seen him since you left for university.

he's changed, but not that much - tan, with hair that curls at the nape of his neck, a nicely fit t-shirt that brings out the honey of his eyes. now, though, he's got slight smile lines on his face that compliment his striking, burly features and a peppering of gray through his hair; your mouth runs dry as you take in the large frame of thick shoulders and contoured biceps. christ.

when you were a teen, you'd always thought Joel was handsome - he was kind, funny, and would always buy you iced tea when he ran for some beers for him and your father after a day working around the house or in the yard. but he was just your dad's friend, someone who made you blush strictly because he was teasing you.

now, though - ever since last summer when you'd caught his eyes lingering on your figure a few too many times, he makes your cheeks flush for a whole new plethora of reasons. it was a thrilling game you came to know last summer - the way he’d flush and clench his jaw after every quip, each slight tease of phrase, wink, of riding up of your skirt when he walked by.

it makes your stomach flip still - and the most delicious part of it all is the smoldering glares he'd give you when you pushed him too far; last summer, you'd discovered the only good thing about your clumsy, teasing nature: Joel's reactions.

he’s everything the gentleman, always has been - even when you pushed his buttons, flustered him, he never lost his cool. only ever let his eyes wander and speak for themselves.

so when you open the door directly into him, you’re shocked to see him standing there, eyes wide.

his appearance throws you off, as there was nobody besides your father in the house when you'd stepped into the shower minutes before. tilting your head, you regain your footing quickly, heart picking up as you see his eyes rake over the length of your legs, exposed from the tiny pink towel you wear.

it’s been far too long you think, noting the change in his face when he recognizes you.

his eyes scour over every curve of your body, as if seeing you for the first time- you can’t hide your smirk. "can I help you with something, Joel?"

his eyes avert just as quick as they found you, staring at something extremely interesting just above the crown of your head. "was lookin' for some rags. your father spilled downstairs." he shifts on his feet, looking into the steamy bathroom behind your frame, "didn't realize there was anybody home..."

you hum, lifting a brow, "good thing I came out when I did," you send him a sly grin, "or else you'd have gotten a show." you tease, shooting him a gentle wink.

his eyes narrow slightly, tilting his head. he mutters your name lowly and it strikes you that you haven’t seen him in over a year and here you are, staring up at him, in a minuscule towel.

“watch it. didn’t know y’were in there.” he utters, sounding defensive as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.

the rumble of your name as it leaves his lips is insatiable; it bathes you in heat as his eyes flicker down towards your chest and back up to your eyes and you smirk, a light tut leaving your mouth.

"sure you didn’t, Joel.”

he cocks a brow at your implications, his head tilting slightly, but he says nothing. your father yells something about warped wood downstairs and the moment snaps, Joel clearing his throat and you looking away.

“I'm onto you, perv." you smirk, winking once again. you don't give yourself the chance to see his reaction as you brush past him, a flick of your wet hair trailing over the green cotton of the shirt that hugs his biceps. you don't hear him move even as you slide past your door and shut it.

it’s not until you’re inside your room that you hear the bathroom door slam so hard it reverberates through your walls. you fight your racing heartbeat and dull throb of arousal, pressing your fingers against your hot cheeks.

"honey?" your dad calls as you leave your room.

“Joel's here. come say hi and help us set up."

your heart skips, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you round the stairs, where the two men stand at the bottom. feigning surprise, you start down the steps towards them. "hi, Mr. Miller." you say pleasantly, "when did you get here?"

Joel's eyes flash with something as he watches you, tilting his head as if trying to decipher what you're playing at - as if he didn’t see you in a towel thirty minutes ago.

"little bit ago." he responds, shifting on his feet and watching you with crossed arms. “when did you get here?” he counters, nodding to your suitcase, which sits still at the top of your stairs.

your dad laughs at your words, though, breaking the tension he didn't even feel before you can answer Joel’s question. "-Mr. Miller? since when did you have any manners?" your dad snorts, "been calling him Joel as long as I have." you roll your eyes playfully at him, reaching the last step, still a few inches shorter than the man next to your dad.

Joel’s eyebrows raise; you look away as you grin. “trying to be polite, I guess. it’s been a bit.” you shrug.

"guess they did teach ya something mature in college, huh?" you dad smirks, nudging your arm. you flush and shrug just as Joel swallows, "haven't seen you in a while, sweetheart." he nods, "how've you been?"

you smile, "been really good, Joel. better now that I get to see my favorite old man." you tease, stepping between the two men, eyes trailing over Joel's gaze even as you walk away. despite your dad's grunt of offense at your joke, he still grins, "you look nice, honey." he says, patting your shoulder.

you smile, not breaking eye contact with Joel as you hum, "thanks, I just showered."

the crowd is thicker than you expected.

you didn’t know your father even had this many friends.

besides your own friends who you’d invited to come catch up, you spent the afternoon chatting with nearly every person in the old neighborhood you’d ever met.

if you thought being home from school while you were a student was bad, being freshly graduated at a backyard barbeque full of your dad's friends was much, much worse.

flocks of couples, neighbors, and family friends gravitate towards you in waves, asking about your achievements and new job and oh, what's it like in the big city?

you're barely able to break away for a minute to stalk over to the side of your house, nestled up in the grass of your backyard, to grab refreshments - sure, you've already had a few beers and you're not particularly thirsty, but Joel's leaning up against the side of the house and you're drawn with a heat in your abdomen towards him.

a small group of men talk just next to the coolers, engrossed in some conversation that holds no interest to you; but he's there, and something inside you screams for his attention.

you barely brush his back to excuse yourself past the bodies, reaching down into the cooler to fish out something palatable.

but your blood runs just as cold as the ice in your hand when a sudden pressure against your ass sends a shiver of desire through you.

you instinctively gasp. the pressure of someone’s hips pressing firmly but briefly against your ass, by accident, startles you as you stand up, a pulsing desire spreading through you instantly once you see Joel, face in shock, behind you.

you swallow; he must have turned after thinking someone’d tried to get his attention, just as you’d bent over. your face heats up.

you're met with eyes that hold awkward shock and a small dark flame that flickers slowly as your shame suddenly melts into a smirk, lunging at the perfect opportunity to sink your claws into him.

"s-sorry, didn't see you there." he stutters slightly. heat pools in your stomach at the flush on his cheeks, the white ring around his knuckles spreading where he grips the neck of his beer bottle too tight.

grinning, you shrug. "it's okay, Joel. I'm sure it was an accident. you seem to be prone to them." you say sweetly, voice sounding almost simpering as you smile.

from the look he gives you, it's clear he can see right through your words. "were you grabbing a beer?" you ask, watching his jaw clench.

"no, I was-" but he stops himself at the teasing raise of your brows, shaking his head as he tries to save himself from your teasing. "sure. yeah."

but just like that, he's fallen into your trap, and you smile, “just watch where you’re standing this time, yeah?” you ask. and within a split second, you're bending over again right before him, falsely digging through ice to grab a bottle that you know he likes. you shift slightly, leaning your weight on one leg as to pop your hip slightly before straightening up and handing the bottle to him with a smirk.

when you whirl back around, his eyes are up towards the sky, jaw clenched tightly with strain as if silently praying to god; though you know Joel Miller has not once stepped foot into a church in his whole life. he clears his throat tersely, eyes meeting yours again as he grabs the bottle from you. "thanks," he mutters.

"you might want to finish that one first." you say with a grin, nodding towards his half-full beer bottle opened in his hands. he looks riled as he sends you a harsh look that only makes you smirk more, shrugging as you saunter off.

as much as you try, you can’t get the feeling of Joel pressed against you out of your mind.

and, with a shivering glance across the patio, you can tell he can’t either; while fully engrossed in a conversation with a woman close to his age, you lock eyes with Joel for a full five seconds before you break away. his gaze is heavy and intent - it follows you, watches you interact with people from the town and your friends from high school.

despite the scorching stares he sends you from across the yard, you keep your distance from Joel, too. you're engrossed catching up with a few friends from high school on the patio when your dad pulls you aside, asking you to help out bringing the food onto the patio.

bowls of chips, salads, roasted vegetables, condiments, and several different variations of sweets are brought out and spread across the folded tables outside. the smell of ribs and pulled pork from your father's smoker fills the air while you fill a tub full of water for the kids on the law to bob for apples in, watching from the serenity of your kitchen.

the breeze floats through the open window as you stare out, the scene calm as you let your thoughts linger. out near the yard, a woman leans down to pick up a discarded paper plate and the man beside her places his hand on her hip; a gentle squeeze that has your eyes glued to the motion. unable to help it, your mind wanders.

Joel's hands are large; they're rough with callouses from work and the skin gets cracked during the winter, but they're warm. you start to wonder if he's got a woman to touch like that - sure, you remember a few women who'd hung out around your dad and him when you were younger, once Sarah was old enough. but there'd never, to your knowledge, been a serious girlfriend.

you watch with desire as the man taps the woman's hip, fingers close to her ass, as she straightens, and it causes you to avert your eyes. your cheeks heat as you imagine the way it'd feel if you were out there - if the man's hand was Joel's, if he were to grab you in the middle of all these people, shove you down onto your knees-

you clear your throat, eyes snapping down to the sink where the water was overflowing from the bin with a gentle bubbling noise.

you groan to yourself in embarrassment. you need to get a fucking grip - no, you need to get laid.

the tub is filled a little too high; it's unsteady as you lift it up, hoisting it above your hips to hold against yourself as you turn around. but there's a figure behind you that makes you jump in shock, jolting the tub until it spills over yourself. you're hit with a shocking rush of cold as the water tips and drenches you; you let out a sharp yelp as one hand flies to your chest. "christ!" you snap, eyes landing on the perpetrator -

"Joel!" you snap, "you scared me."

"jesus," he mutters, moving towards you, grabbing the bin from you and placing it down on the counter, "I wasn't even close t'you, sweetheart. I was walkin' into the garage."

you swallow, taking a breath to calm your tight nerves. "I was zoned out, I guess-" you curse your bumbling hands, a light breeze catching over your wet skin and sending a shiver through you. just your luck.

you sigh, tilting your head, "what are you doing, slinking around here?" you raise a brow as you accuse him. he rolls his eyes, "ain't slinking anywhere. was goin' to find apples. your dad is adamant about those kids on the lawn. afraid they're gonna tear up his landscaping."

you sigh, shaking your head, "you made me spill." you pout dumbly, heart still pounding as you become increasingly aware of how wet your dress is- his eyes narrow, "'s not my fault you're always gettin' yourself into trouble." he mutters, shrugging as he looks down at your chest, the fabric slowly melding itself against your hot skin as the water spreads.

"says you." you retort, shaking your head. his eyes catch yours after you mutter it; a quick, intense glance that sends a strike of heat through you. a warning look.

but as always, he doesn't linger on your teasing, instead clearing his throat and moving on. it drives you mad as he hums. "at least it's water." he tries, "clean you right up." he hands you a dish towel, which you take with a quirked brow. desire burns between your legs.

"I already showered today," your voice is seductive, floating through the tense silence of the room as your eyes meet the side of his face. "as I'm sure you haven't forgot." you tease.

his hands freeze from where they were, wiping some of the water from the counter with a towel. he turns slowly to look at you, face dark. the air suddenly feels thick. "what's that supposed to mean?" his voice is low, brows drawn as he stares down at you - jaw clenched, chest heaving. his eyes dare you to say it, to let him take a bite.

you hum, "don't act coy now, Mr. Miller." you tease, watching his eyes darken with your words. "I see the way you watch me. don't act like you aren't thinking about me." you add boldly, heart hammering - if, somehow, you've made it all up in your delusional head, you're utterly fucked.

but his jaw ticks and his inhale is sharp, a flicker of his eyes down to your bra as it peeks through the wet material gives him away. it lights a flame within you that nothing else ever has.

"creeping around upstairs while I'm showering. you're trying to tell me you weren't about to slide in, take a peek?" you tilt your head to stare up at him through lidded eyes, kicking the teasing up the highest you've ever done.

you push onto your tip toes, your dripping chest mere inches from his as the barbeque continues feet away, outside. "you want to see it, don't you? feel me against you, like you did out there? I'm really warm." you mutter, drinking in his silence as he heaves his chest against yours. “and so tight.” you whisper, bold courage seeping through you as your eyes fall to the straining tent in his pants.

a rush of pride tickles you when he doesn't stop you, doesn't tell you off - so you continue, legs jelly with arousal. "I'm way too young for you, but you just can't stop yourself, can you?" you whisper into his ear, "you're so perverted, Joel."

you're throbbing with heat when you pull back slightly to drink in his red cheeks, his piercing stare that nearly kills you. his glare is molten, sharp as his gaze flickers from you then out to the party, returning with a burning malice. "go change. now." is all he says.

"are you distracted, Joel?" you tease, smirking up at him. “or just too scared?”

“shut up.” he orders, the malice behind it barely surviving his bark as his eyes dip quickly to your chest and back.

you smirk, “you can’t keep your eyes away from me. you’re a sick man, Joel.” you mutter, letting your hand drag down the neckline of your dress, exposing your breasts through your wet fabric. he nearly growls, rough hand flying to your bare arm, tugging you close to him. "take it off." he hisses.

you blink up at him, shivering from the hungry, dark eyes that seem to tear you apart inch by inch, as you breathe out a defiant, "you're not my dad."

he chuckles at that, an exhale leaving his lips. "you're damn right 'm not. and you're not a fuckin' child. go change."

you settle on a darker sundress this time, to avoid another wardrobe malfunction.

your heart hammers just as loud in your throat as it did minutes earlier in the kitchen as you stare out your bedroom window, searching for one figure in the crowd of guests. Joel's nowhere in sight, yet the kids are all huddled around a tub of water with bright red apples bobbing up and down.

with a sharp sigh, you gather your undergarments and dress to bring down to the washer, flicking off your light.

the laundry room smells fresh - a breath of clean air after the suffocating tenseness of the kitchen. the thought of Joel's face makes your cunt flutter slightly; that dark, angry stare - the rouge of his cheeks at your words. where doubt should creep in, nothing but pride fills your mind, knowing you can rile up the man just as easy as riding a bike.

you've just started the wash cycle, moving to stand up when the door slams shut, making you jump once again to be met with Joel's large frame.

you raise your brows, masking your shock and nerves with a grin, "back for more, creep? too late, I already put my panties in the wash-"

but he crowds into you so quick that your mouth snaps shut; your back hits the edge of the washer as you stare up at him, shocked. "'m tired of your shit," he sneers, eyes angry, "prancin' around, wearing next to nothin' and bendin' over for everyone to see." your stomach flutters.

he sneers his next words. "you really that clumsy, or are you just too shy to admit how bad your pussy's aching for your daddy's best friend?"

your jaw nearly drops from such bluntness coming from Joel's lips. you've rarely even heard him cuss - only during football games and the one time he burnt his hand on the grill after you'd leaned over and given him a perfect view down your shirt.

"Joel-" you start, a rush of arousal flooding the seat of your panties as you're pushed backwards. he leans into your space, dipping his head until he's in your ear. "who's the real creep, huh?" he mutters, warm breath scattering chills over your neck, "you’re sick, baby. goin' after men almost twice your age." he tuts, sliding his thick jeans between the soft skin of your thighs. “you got no idea what a man like me could do t’ya.” you gasp sharply, hands gripping his thick shoulders and he pushes you back further, your spine thrumming with the rumble of the washing machine.

“bet you think you can show me, don’t you?” you challenge, raising a brow.

"tired of your bullshit, sweetheart." he shakes his head, leaning back. "how am I gonna get you to shut up?" he asks mockingly. you swallow, canting your hips slightly as a prickle of desire rolls over you. "bet you'd love to turn this into a lesson, wouldn't you Joel?" you tease back, but he moves his leg up slightly, the rough material brushing against your heat. jolts of pleasure erupt from the spot and you let out a short mewl. his hand rises to grip your jaw, firm but gentle. his skin is hot and large against your cheeks.

"don't lie, sweetheart, you love it." he growls, "you love trippin' and spillin' shit just so I can come clean up your mess for you. 's that right? you just need my attention?" his thumb caresses over your cheek, jilting a brow as he stares down at you, "answer me."

you swallow dryly, nodding pathetically, "yes."

he tuts, condescending as he tilts his head. "where's all the teasing now, baby? you're always so talkative. did'ya realize I'm too much for you?" he taunts.

you shake your head, eyes wide, "no!" you eject, flames of heat licking your cheeks as he smirks. you try to go back on yourself, play down your eagerness, "-no, you're not too much, I promise."

he tilts his head the other way this time, eyes sharp. "so what is it, then? y'afraid of all the people out there? that your daddy's gonna come looking for ya and find us in here? see me touching you, like the pervert I am? because I'll leave right now 'f that's what you want."

you shiver as another rush of arousal floods you, twitching your hips at his words, the low drawl of his voice. you grasp him tight by his biceps, holding yourself against him as you meet his hot stare, unable to voice your desires. your blood pumps with need.

"oh." he hums, eyes narrowing as he pushes his thigh up against you roughly, eliciting a short moan from you. "or do you like that?"

you swallow, eyes lowering to where you drag your hips over his leg, pathetically desperate. he chuckles and it reverberates in his chest under your palms. "anyone could walk in here, sweetheart. your dad could be on the other side." he whispers into your ear, coaxing a moan from you - he tuts, "-an the washer's not loud enough if y'gonna moan like that."

you nod, staring into his eyes; they pierce you with their intensity. he's giving you an out, asking if this is what you really want, or if its just some juvenile grasp for attention. your mind has been made up since you found out Joel was coming today, though.

"I'll be quiet for you, Joel." you whisper, nodding, "I can handle it."

you can tell, he likes that; he presses to you fully, his hardening cock pressing against your side. you sharply inhale, the reality settling in as you drip with desire, aching for his touch. boldly, with a breath of fresh desire, you snake your hand down to palm him through his jeans - he's thick, straining against his jeans as his grip on your jaw tightens.

"how long have you been this hard, Joel?" you tease, confidence sudden as you smirk, "bet you've been thinking of me since you tried to sneak into the shower earlier for a peep show."

his hand slides down to grasp your throat as your sentence tapers out: a squeeze causes a rush of pleasure through you. "quit it with the fuckin' lyin'. you're already desperate enough." his breath is hot on your face. with a grin, you accentuate a squeeze on his bulge, coaxing a short grunt from him. "says you, old man?"

this pushes him to the edge.

rough hands leave your hip and throat to flip your body over, pushing you until you're bent over the washing machine, its vibrations tremoring your whole body. "eager, are you?" you tease, gasping when one hand presses you from the base of your neck.

his voice is sharp in response, "tired of you, sweetheart. gonna fuck all the teasin' right out of you."

your cunt flutters at his words, wiggling your hips until you press against his crotch, feeling the hard thickness of his clothed cock over your panties. "-and you'll probably love every second of it too.” you mutter against the cold white surface of the washer.

a harsh swat on your ass makes you yelp slightly, the pleasure smearing arousal between your thighs, legs shaky with anticipation. you swallow heavily when your dress is shoved up over your hips, exposing your skimpy panties to Joel as his large hands splay over the flesh of your ass.

his hands grip and squeeze your skin, teasing you, as slowly his fingers graze over the seat of your underwear, toying with the ruined, soaked fabric. "you're dripping," he taunts you, the stark words causing your eyes to widen, a short whimper leaving your lips. "eager, are you?" he parrots your words.

you let out a shuddered moan, swallowing as a finger falls to rub feather-light circles over your throbbing, clothed clit. the sensation has you bucking back against his touch, but his own grip on you prevents your movement; a harsh grip on your neck, forcing you down against the vibrations of the machine.

"tell me what you want." Joel mutters, voice commanding. you resist the urge once again to roll your eyes as you grit your teeth; your own medicine tastes bitter as he feeds you spoonfuls. "come on, you've always loved to talk." he sneers, his voice taunting, as if recalling all the times you've teased him, secretly aching for him. "you had such good manners in front of your daddy earlier, didn't you? so where's that pretty please? say pretty please, Joel, please fuck me on my daddy’s washing machine." he adds, thumb pressing down slightly harder on your clit. a strangled noise escaped your throat, your eyes wrenching shut. “say you want me to use you.”

"fuck- pretty please- J-Joel, please use me-“ you whimper, giving up as he hums at your words. a squeeze on your throat.

“y’gonna knock it off with the desperate teasing?” he asks sharply, holding you towards his mouth. you swallow, trying to hide your grin at the wall and hoping Joel can’t see it.

“yes, Joel, just please, please fuck me.” you submit to his request, throbbing with desire.

you feel his chest as he leans over you, breath against your spine. "begging your dad's best friend to fuck you? you’re so dirty, baby. you should be ashamed." he tuts, kissing your spine in a feather-light touch as his other hand slides your panties to the side, your arousal already dripping down your legs.

your cheeks flush as you nod wordlessly, wiggling your hips slightly, cunt aching for him.

he doesn't make you wait any longer; his cock is thick and heavy as he pulls himself out of his jeans, running his shaft through your molten heat.

your gasp is strangled as his tip nudges your clit, a groan from his lips rumbling and low as you hold your breath in anticipation. he rocks his hips again and your legs soon tense up, cold against the washer as your hands grip the sides, "hurry, please." your voice is breathless and cracked as you ask it, exhausted and driven wild from his teasing. "need it so bad.“ you whimper breathlessly.

he has the audacity to chuckle lightly, his thickness spreading your juices and notching just at your entrance before sliding past in tease. your nails scrape the metal as your eyes clench shut - he's so big; a flood of nerves rolls over you.

"i know you do, sweetheart.” he mutters; you almost consider slapping him, but then you're sharply inhaling at the sudden sensation of his spit, dripping down onto your pulsing, aching heat. you can't help the moan at the feeling; there's a moment where Joel's hand caresses your cheek gently and you can't help but lean into his warm skin, keening at the touch, until it slides over your mouth and you realize he's muffling you.

and then he pushes forwards, breaching your tight, hot cunt.

and you’re gasping. simultaneously, you suck in breaths at the sensation, his own groan so low it may be a growl.

your brows pinch together at the tight fit; he's so big and you're tight with desire as he slowly inches himself inside, relishing in the agonizing pleasure of him nearly splitting you open. "Joel," you whimper, voice completely muffled by his tight hold on your mouth.

he whispers hot against the shell of your ear, "you better be quiet."

his voice sends a flood of arousal through you, coaxing his cock further into you, enveloping him into your warmth as his cock presses against the spongy part of you that has your back arching in a gasp. and then he's dragging himself slowly out of you, thrusting back in deep and slow.

he lets out a shuttering breath into your collarbone as your nails dig into metal. you squirm at how deep he is; sweat lines your brow as your body is forced against the machine, barely able to accommodate his size. you let out a breathless, broken whine into his palm at the feeling, his length nearly splitting you, the sounds of your arousal slicking him and coating you both as he starts to thrust with a deep pace.

he holds you hard against the machine, ensuring you can't buck your hips, the other hand sliding to your neck, keeping just where he wants you at the angle that has both your eyes nearly rolling back.

he growls as he starts to fuck into you hard and rough, the washer shaking with his thrusts. "take me, that's right." he grunts - the sentence sends your toes curling in pleasure. "fuck-" he grunts, "dirty slut, letting me fuck you right here- practically begging me all night-"

the vibrations from the washing machine send tremors of pleasure through you and with wide eyes, you can feel your orgasm growing quickly. you can't help the gasps as Joel hits the spot in you that has tears brimming at the edge of your vision.

"you close already, sweetheart?" he taunts, hand grabbing both your wrists to pin them against your back. you can't move as he pumps into you, the machine hitting the wall as the fire writhes in your abdomen.

you nod, tears almost spilling in pleasure. the vibrations are bringing you so close to the edge as he hits the spongy spot inside you that nearly makes you scream; he chuckles darkly. "you need a little more, baby?"

you nod, wailing gently against him as you try to move against him, toes leaving the ground as he fucks you into the machine. "you wanna cum, hm?"

you nod furiously, yelping, "yes!" through his muffling.

you feel a familiar warm feeling in your abdomen after a several deep thrusts and you moan out as he lifts your leg slightly up, hitting a new angle that nearly sends you over the edge. "fuck." he hisses.

his hands grip your wrists tight, "you know how t'touch your clit, don't you, baby?" he asks. you nod, looking towards the wall as you can't crane your neck further to see him. he doesn't let up on his thrusts, even as you glare at the wall, nodding with a whimper.

"why don't you touch yourself, then?" he asks, teasing with a dark lilt in his voice that sends thrills through your body. you flutter and clench at his condescending tone, his hand pinning your wrists back as you struggle to move your hand to where you most need it.

"c'mon, sweetheart, try harder. work for it."

a tear falls onto the washing machine as he thrusts deep, hard. he hums low, leaning over and hitting a new angle, lips against your neck. "you gonna stop slutting yourself out? an’ stop callin' me a pervert when you throw yourself at me?" he asks, taunting. you groan, nodding enough that your neck hurts as you keen your back towards him, on a desperate edge of something brilliant.

he hums, "'kay, baby. touch yourself. want you to cum on my cock."

your hands are released and frantically your fingers find your sensitive clit, yelping as he presses his hand harder to your mouth. the feeling is blinding.

your cunt flutters as you hit your high not two thrusts later, your whole body tense. you let out a long, loud whine of his name as you nearly short circuit.

“f-fucking tight-" he grunts, his own thrusts sloppy as he chases his own orgasm, already moving on from yours as you go limp with pleasure in his grasp.

overstimulation sends your legs quivering as he grips you tighter, fucking into your throbbing heat. your cunt, still sensitive and contracting, drives Joel crazy - though you tense as you hear a familiar voice calling out Joel's name from the patio.

your eyes widen, but Joel doesn't stop - not when your dad yells his name louder, as if he's entered the kitchen.

and, to your horror, your dad calls out for Joel, asking if he's seen you.

you don’t miss the coincidence of your dad yelling into the house in search of you while his best friend cums inside you. a groan quiet in your ear as Joel suddenly stills deep inside you, hot spurts of his cum pumping into you, both your breaths heavy. he rocks into you, shaking breath as your father once again calls for him.

when Joel pulls out of you, he caresses your spine, releasing your mouth. you suck in a breath, shuttering when his thumb slides over your ruined cunt, thumbing his cum back inside you gently, lowly groaning.

you don't say anything, too shocked to speak as he pulls your panties back over you, dragging your dress over your ass.

releasing you from his grip, he hums into your ear, "now you’ll quit your fuckin' teasing, you hear me?"

and then, within seconds, you hear him returning outside, calling back your dad's name while you try to stand upright on shaky legs.

shit.

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taglist: @satansgoatt @elissaaa @queerponcho @bbyanarchist @lapricot @umavvitch @asreadbyaj @dinsbaby @cottoncandytomu @switchbladedreamz @missannwinchester @abs-2020 @afandomidiot @cosm1c-babe @rogersbarnesxx @carleenphillips-blog @bonnibuckets @nightlovechild @jazzyspasms @girlboybug @cannolighost @pastelnap @userpedros @feministfanboi @frogers @grhowls @daddy-din @gothoppered @totallynotastanacc @robbatlover @casssiopeia @wannab-urs @redhotkitchen @joelapologist2001 @silkiers @alltheseperfectimperfections @whorror-s @scarletthefierce @

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#joel miller smut #joel smut #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #the last of us (tv)#the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #pre-outbreak!joel miller #joel the last of us

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lovingmattysposts · 5 months

Text

Friends with Benefits Part 3

(I would listen to these two songs on repeat while reading)

P1 P2 P4 P5 P6

pairing: y/n and matt sturniolo

summary: You and Matt are best friends, who occationaly have sex on the low. No string attached, just sex. Well, just sex for him. Little did he know you were falling in love and falling fucking fast.

warnings: smut, mention of an age gap (not in a creepy way, just a joke), drinking, cursing, a physical fight at the end

part three you guys have been begging for, prepare yourselves now. Just warning you this one is a sad one, love yall

xoxo, Autumn

"This one?" I asked holding up the third option of the night. "No" She stated staring at me. I dropped the dress in my hands and glared at her. "You're not taking this seriously" I said turning back to my closet. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh, I'm taking this very seriously" She nodded. I glared back at her.

The truth was is that i've been avoiding Matt all week. I respond to his texts, miss his calls. I'll say I miss him, but I won't come over. It's been a back in forth battle between my mind whether or not I wanted to do this or not. All day I'll pace around, saying that I was done. Then the night came and I would text him. He was starting to get irretated and I knew it.

Tonight was his birthday. I was texting him last night when it turned midnight.

last night:

to Matt Stromboli 12:01am

I guess you're a year older now

From: Matt Stromboli 12:01am

Is that suppose to be your way of telling me happy birthday?

to Matt Stromboli 12:02am

Something like that

From: Matt Stromboli 12:02am

How sweet of you. Oops, just got another text from my side hoe, she sent me a paragraph

I knew it was a joke, but it hit me like a punch in the face. I couldn't show it, and that's when my brain tells me i'm trying to pull back for a reason.

to Matt Stromboli 12:04

Wouldn't want to keep her waiting now do we?

From: Matt Stromboli 12:02am

Oh of course not, brb

From: Matt Stromboli 12:03am

Thank you so much for the deep message y/n/n, I can't stop thinking about you either. You are so hot and I can't wait to spend the entire night with you while you tell me just HOW happy you are that it is my birthday. 20 has never felt so good. Guess I'm considered a pedo since you're still 19, but still can't keep you off my mind ;)

to Matt Stromboli 12:04

Was that you referencing me as your side hoe and dissing my age all in one message?

From: Matt Stromboli 12:05am

Side hoe, main hoe, whatever hoe. You fit the description for all of them.

From: Matt Stromboli 12:05

....or you guys just happen to have the same name

to Matt Stromboli 12:06

So you're messing with TWO 19-year-olds. brb calling the police

From: Matt Stromboli 12:06

Lol so funny. (pls don't)

I laughed out loud.

to Matt Stromboli 12:07

I just talked to them. They said you're sentenced to no birthday sex from either of the 19-year-olds.

From: Matt Stromboli 12:07

NO PLEASE I'LL DO ANYTHING. THERE IS ONLY ONE 19-YEAR-OLD I SWEAR

to Matt Stromboli 12:08

wow never have seen you beg before. Kinda like it

From: Matt Stromboli 12:09

Don't get used to it. You've been depriving me for a week now, i'm starting to lose vision in my left eye.

to Matt Stromboli 12:08

Goodnight birthday boy

From: Matt Stromboli 12:10

God that message just made me hard

to Matt Stromboli 12:08

Oh god, doctor, he's flat-lining

From: Matt Stromboli 12:10

my doctor is a gross old man, you ruined it.

to Matt Stromboli 12:11

Sorry

From: Matt Stromboli 12:12

Can I call you?

I sighed looking at the ceiling. As much as I wanted to keep this going of pulling back. It was midnight and I was talking to the man I was in love with and he hasn't touched me in a week.

From: Matt Stromboli 12:13

Please. I just need to hear your voice. You could literally talk about anything for about 30 seconds and I'll be done for.

I smiled.

to Matt Stromboli 12:11

Am I dreaming or is Matthew Bernard Sturniolo being submissive?

From: Matt Stromboli 12:13

I can't finish without you, please. It's my birthday

I rolled my eyes before I clicked to call him. It didn't ring one time before he answered. "Matthewwww" I sang. I already heard him whine over the phone and small breaths over the phone. My eyes went wide.

"Wow okay. Already going at it I see?" I chuckled. "Shut up" He grunted over the phone. I sat up on my bed, smiling to myself. "Hey who's the one in control right now? I could start talking about your doctor again and turn you off so fast" I stated. He groaned. "Stop talking about my doctor" I heard him chuckle over the phone.

"Then stop telling me to shut up" I said bluntly. He let out a breath. "Okay, I'm sorry" He said quickly. I smiled, I loved this. "What do you want me to talk about?" I asked, he took a few second before responding.

"Anything-Anything just keep talking" He stuttered. I smiled, rolling over. "Okay" I sighed thinking. I could fuck with him. "Today I did laundry." I stated. I heard him chuckle softly. "Yeah?" He breathed. I hummed. "Yeah and then I fingered myself while wearing that shirt you gave me" I said out of the blue. I heard him moan almost immediately, making me chuckle.

"A-Are you serious?" He asked breathlessly. I chuckled to myself. "No, I just have no idea how to do this" I laughed. I heard him chucking a bit, before breathing in. "Dude" He said. "Plus I'm on my period" I lied. "No you're not" He grunted. I furrowed my eyebrows. "I have your period on a tracker" He breathed. I rolled my eyes, of course he did.

"Tell me what you're wearing" He breathed. I looked down at my big t-shirt and sweatpants. "Uhm" I hummed. "Nothing" I lied. I heard short and shallow breaths. "Just laying here, like naked you know?" I sighed looking up.

"I know you're lying" He moaned. I giggled. "Tell me about you're day" He grunted. "Just keep talking" His voice broke at the last word. I sighed into the phone. "Okay, well. I cleaned my room I was actually being really productive. Then I started scrolling through instagram then-Oh! You know that clothing account that has the like spider-web design like thing on it?" I asked through the phone.

"Uh humm" He hummed through the phone. "Well I bought like a sweatshirt off of it, and I'm actually really excited for it to come in, you know?" I smiled. "Yeah baby" He sighed into the phone. I smiled. "Lucy said it was a stupid buy, but I think that it would look really cool with those cargo pants I got, but I have no idea what shoes to wear with them. Trying out a new like cool look." I said smiling. He breathed in sharply.

"Fuck" He cursed, his breathing getting heavier. "Are you clooossee?" I asked. "Hm huh" He breathed. I sighed into the phone. "I wish I was there" I stated leaning on my hand as i started to play with my hair. "Me too" He said quickly. "Hmm, you wish it was my hand don't you?" I teased. "Fuck, yes" He moaned. I smiled.

"Just pretend that is. That I'm hovering over you, kissing your neck. Telling you to let go all over my fingers like a good birthday boy-" I almost laughed at my dirty talk, but he liked it.

"Y/n-Fuck-I-" I heard him say loudly and then moaned loudly, before he let out a deep breath. "Are you-Did you-" I asked. "Yes" He chuckled. I smiled. "Good" I stated. He sighed into the phone. "Hold on a second" He said and I heard rustling on the other end, and I waited.

"You're coming tomorrow right?" He asked. I sighed into the phone. "Yeah" I breathed. "Good" He said softly, settling back down.

"Nate and Justin come in tomorrow and they are staying with us" He explained. I nodded. "That'll be fun" I said over the phone. He sighed. "The only reason I'm saying that is because you can't spend the night tomorrow" He said, making my face drop and my heart hurt.

"Oh" I said, swallowing. "I just don't want to make it a thing you know? I mean like it's not a big deal with Chris and Nick because they like know, but I don't feel like explaining it to Nate and Justin" He said, making me breath out.

"Right" I said. I felt like an idiot. An absolute idiot. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. Feeling the pit in mu stomach form from the punch in the gut. You're not like my girlfriend, so you shouldn't spend the night when people I care about are staying with me.

"But, I am still excited for you to see them and meet them and stuff" He said. I bit my lip. "Yeah, yeah of course" I breathed. "And I'm excited to see you. Since you've been ghosting me the past week" He chuckled. I swallowed. "Yeah, sorry i've just been.....busy" I said feeling tears start to fill in my eyes.

"Yeah I know, no hard feelings. I just miss seeing my homie" He said happily. His homie. Fucking Ouch. "Yeah yeah. I just-" I took a breath. "I'll just see you at the party then" I said shaking my head. "Okay cool" He said before we said our goodbyes. I swallowed clicking off the phone.

present:

I swallowed shifting through my clothes remembering last night. "Just pick something already" She sighed. I picked out a black dress and showed it to her. Her eyes went wide. "What? It's my favorite dress" I argued. "No" She said standing. "It's Matt's favorite dress" She said raising her eyebrows. I sighed looking at it, it did make me look really good.

"Give me the shirt back or i'm wearing it" I said looking over at her. She sighed and looked at me. "No" She said. "Then, I'm wearing it" I smiled before walking into the bathroom.

We were on the uber ride there when I turned to Lucy. "I'm gonna talk to him eventually Lucy, I just-tonight's his birthday" I sighed. She looked over at me and nodded. "I'll hold my breath" She smiled making me shake my head. She pushed me slightly.

"Hey, it's your life you can do what you want. I just don't want to see you get hurt" She said quietly. I nodded. Lucy was a good friend. She really was, but I was already hurt. Constantly getting hurt. I looked down at the box in my hand, rubbing my thumb over it.

"Is that for Matt?" She asked looking down, I nodded. I opened it looking down at the ring. It was a ring that he's wanted for so long. So I thought I'd buy it for his birthday. Now looking down at it, I debated even giving it to him. I closed it before putting it back in my purse and turning to look out the window.

We pulled up to the house and their were cars lining the street. We thanked the driver and walked out and up to the house. I stood at the door for a second. Lucy stopped and looked at me. "You okay?" She asked. I looked at her before nodding, but not moving.

"You gonna go inside?" She asked pointing at the door. I licked my lips. "It feels-" I started to say. "Weird" I whispered. She sighed leaning over to me. "You look hot. If Matt can't see it then screw him. Okay? Birthday or not I'll beat his ass" She smiled making me smile.

I nodded before walking through the door. The loudness of the party came over me as we walked in. I glanced around before I saw all of them standing and talking in the kitchen. I swallowed and turned towards Lucy who was behind me.

"What are you doing?" She asked quickly. "I can't do it" I said shaking my head. She furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean?" She asked leaning towards me. "I can't be here, not tonight, not on his birthday. I can't-" I started to shake my head.

"Y/n!"

I winced at the sound of my name being called. Lucy looked up behind me and then back down to me. "They are walking over here" She whispered in between her teeth. I opened my eyes and slowly turned around. I saw Chris, Nate, and Nick all walk up to me glancing behind them seeing Matt and Justin stay on the other side of the kitchen, while Matt glanced at me. I looked away from them.

"Hey" I smiled up at Nick, bringing him into a hug. "Happy birthday" I said as I pulled back from the hug. "Thank you" He smiled. I pulled Chris into a hug as well. "Happy birthday" I smiled, he let go. "Thanks Y/n/n" He smiled down at me. I looked over to Nate.

"Y/n and Lucy, this is Nate" Nick said motion to Nate. I pulled him into a hug as well, catching Matt's stare from the other side of the kitchen. I let Nate go, leaning back. "It's nice to meet you" Nate smiled at me. I nodded smiling. "It's nice to meet you too, these boys never shut up about you" I smiled, making him look over at Chris and Nick.

"I'm Lucy, I don't do hugs. Happy birthday boys" She motioned to Chris and Nick. They nodded.

"So Y/n, do you live in LA?" Nate asked. I nodded looking down. "I do, i've lived here my whole life" I said looking at him, he nodded. "I'm gonna have to come visit more often" He said smiling, making me raise my eyebrows. Chris and Nick looked at each other. Lucy looked over at me. I awkwardly laughed.

"Oh yeah well" I cleared my throat. "You look beautiful" He said looking at me. I opened my mouth to respond when Matt came over to us. He put his hands on Nate's shoulders staring down at him.

"Nate, getting a little too friendly with my guests hm?" He said smiling. Nate just looked at him. Lucy eyed me and I just looked at her. Matt looked over to me, releasing Nate. "Y/n" He stated. I nodded at him. Nick looked between us and cleared his throat.

"Justin, this is Y/n" Nick said motioning to Justin. I looked over smiling, shaking his hand. "Hi" I smiled he nodded. Matt stayed looking at me. "Y/n/n, let's go get a drink" Lucy said pulling my arm. I looked at her and then to Matt.

"Okay" I breathed as we walked away. I let out a deep breath. "That was weird" Lucy said. I nodded. "Really weird" She nodded. I turned back around looking at them, Matt's eyes were trained on me. I swallowed turning back around as Lucy handed me a drink.

The rest of the night I attempted to talk to as many people as I possibly could so that I wouldn't run into Matt. I didn't want to deal with my feelings, if I was being completely honest. I didn't want to face him.

I've been here and hour and haven't even spoken to him. Lucy turned to me and told me she was going to the bathroom. I nodded as she walked off. I wasn't standing there three seconds before I felt someone walk up to me.

"You're not gonna tell me happy birthday?"

I turned slowly, seeing Matt looking down at me. I blinked up at him before looking down. "I already did Matt, last night" I said barley looking at him, keeping my eyes busy scanning the room. He licked his lips, his eyes trained on my face.

"You've been avoiding me" he stated making me look up at him. He was looking down at me with an expression I couldn't read.

"No I haven't" I lied. "I know when you lie to me y/n" He stated quickly. I swallowed before bringing my drink up to my mouth. He took it out of my hands, putting it on the counter beside us.

I looked down at the cup and then back up at him.

"Happy Birthday Matt" I breathed before attempting to turn, but I felt my arm being grabbed as he dragged me away. I looked up at him as he dragged me away down the hall.

"Matt" I said trying to get my arm away but he pushed me into his room before closing the door.

"Matt! What the hell was-"

"Are you pregnant?" He asked looking down at me closing his eyes briefly. My mouth fell open. That was the last possible thing I expected to fall from him mouth.

"W-What?" I asked looking up at him in shock. He sighed looking down. "Fuck Y/n are you? because if you are-Oh my god-Fuck-" he rambled.

"Matt I'm not pregnant!" I yelled at him. He looked up at me pausing. "Then what is wrong?" He threw us hands up. I sighed looking down.

"Y/n/n" he breathed stepping towards me. If I was smart, I would step away from him. But I was the dumbest bitch alive. I looked up at him as his hands came around my waist.

"Talk to me." He breathed. I let out a shaky breath. I looked down at my purse. I looked back up at him, his eyes boring into mine. I gripped my purse.

"I got you something" I whispered. He just looked at me. "For your birthday" I said reaching down and opening my bag. He looked down, stepping back for a second. I pulled out the small box and handed it to him.

He looked down at it and then back at me. I smiled sadly at him. He looked back down opening the small box and pulling out the ring. He smiled rubbing his thumb over it. He looked up at me.

"You didn't have to do that y/n/n" he breathed. I nodded. "I know I just thought-" I swallowed. I looked up at him. "Do you like it?" I whispered.

He nodded. "I love it" He said looking at it. He walked over setting the box on his dresser and slipping the ring over his finger. I looked down at my feet.

"You look pretty" he said as he turned around. I just looked at him. "Yeah" I stated. He walked over to me slowly.

"It's the dress" he stated as he ran his finger over the strap. I swallowed. "It's the dress" I said back. The dress I was wearing the first time we hooked up. He put his hands on my face. I blinked up at him.

I love you so much.

My mind screamed.

"I love the ring" he said rubbing his thumbs across my cheeks. I smiled. "I'm glad" I said quietly, almost inaudible.

I want this to be forever. I wanted this to be real. I want to be yours. I don't want to be hiding behind your bedroom door anymore.

I closed my eyes.

"I've thought about you all day long" he whispered. My eyes stayed closed. "Yeah?" I whispered back. "Yeah" he breathed before I felt him kiss me softly. I opened my eyes as he pulled away.

"Have you had a good birthday?" I asked. He smiled. "Yeah" he said leaning down and kissing my cheek so softly. I swallowed. He lifted his head and looked at me.

"Does the police sentence still stand?" He whispered as he trailed his hand down my arm. Sex. Right. I let out a shaky breath.

"I-I don't know" I stuttered. He pulled me against him, making me breath in. "I'm staying in here with you while my birthday party goes on out there" he stated as he brushed a piece of hair behind my ear.

"And I can't have you tonight" he dragged out smiling. I just watched him. "And I've missed you. I've missed this" he stated. I looked up at him.

"And you in that dress" he sighed looking down at me. I swallowed feeling my emotions starting to come up my throat.

"Matt?" I whispered. He looked up at me. "Can you kiss me?" I asked softly. He smiled and nodded before bringing our lips together in a slow kiss. I kissed him back, in my mind kissing my boyfriend. On his birthday. And after he was going to walk out there holding my hand announcing to the world that I was his girlfriend. That he was proud of me. Proud that I was his.

I sighed as I kissed him. He pushed me back by my hips and pushed me onto the bed, climbing on top me. I connected us back together in a hungrier kiss.

"You make me crazy" he mumbled against my lips. You have no idea how crazy you make me. I closed my eyes feeling the lump in my throat pushing it down. Praying it would go down.

He moved down kissing my neck hungrily, slightly pushing up my dress. I stared up at the ceiling feeling it in my chest. The reality of the situation setting in, hitting me like a ton of bricks. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair.

I felt tears start to brim at my eyes. I couldn't focus on his mouth against my neck. I couldn't even feel the sensation of it anymore, all I was focused was the tears threatening to spill over.

"Matt" I said softly as the tears pooled. "Hmm" He breathed against me moving downward towards my chest, pushing the dress up higher. I swallowed and closed my eyes.

"Matt stop. Please stop" my voice broke. Immediately from hearing my voice he sat up lifting his hands off me completely. He looked down at me with a look of fear when he saw my face.

"What? What happened? Y/n what's wrong?" His voice full of concern as he looked in my eyes. I shook my head tears spilling from my eyes. I felt his hands come up to my face and I pushed them off of me. I rolled out from under him and he sat hesitantly next to me, going to hold me but paused.

"Y/n. What's wrong? Why are you crying? Did I do something?" He asked next to me quickly. I shook my head and looked down, not being able to form words, my throat closing. suffocating me. His presence and his confusion suffocating me.

"Y/n" he said softly, placing his hand on my leg. I pushed it off. "I don't understand" he shook his head. I took a deep breath and stood up.

"That's the problem Matt, you don't understand" I said shaking my head and wiping my face. "You don't understand that every single thing you do fucking kills me! You're killing me." I yelled down at him. He just stared up at me, like a lost puppy.

"Don't look at me like-like that" I said turning my head starting to cry harder. He stood up reaching for me but I stepped back. "No" I whimpered.

"Y/n-" he started to say but I cut him off. "It's not f-fair!" I pointed at him. "It's not fair that you hold me after we have sex. It's not fair that you kiss me like you care about me. It's not fair that you tell me you think about me all day. It's not fair that tell me not to see anyone else. It's not fair that you almost rip your best friend's fucking head off for flirting with me." I said out of breath. His face turned hard and he looked down.

"It's not fair that call me yours when I'm n-not!" I yelled letting the tears stream down my face, clawing at my chest. He just blinked up at me.

"Y-You don't get it" I breathed. "You don't get that every single thing you say to me-" I took a deep breath. I couldn't think, everything that was in my mind was coming out like a word vomit.

"Y-you treat me like your fucking girlfriend and drop my hand when someone walks by. You don't even want to be the one to introduce me to your best friend. Y-You pull me into your room when you have to ask me what's wrong because you don't want people to see that you care." I shook my head, hearing it all fall out of my mouth just made it more of a reality.

"And-and I get it okay? I get it that it was my choice. I agreed to this, but how can you-" I bit my lip looking up. "How you lay there and do those things and-" I cried cutting myself off, shaking my head. "It's not fucking fair" I whispered.

Things that I've kept bottled up forever and had never vocalized before were spilling out of my mouth as I cried in front of the boy I loved most, the boy that was killing me.

"Everyday I lay there hoping and wishing that you would-" I closed my eyes trying to breath.

"You hide me like I'm some huge secret and it's killing me" I cried holding my chest. Matt stood silently in front of me with his mouth slightly parted staring at me.

"You drive 25 minutes out of your way to give me your shirt because you thought I was mad that you asked me to give it back." I breathed looking at him, shaking my head.

"Matt, you're fucking killing me" I said barley above a whisper. Silence filled the room around us. I looked down at my feet. My heart beating out of my chest. The silence slicing through me like a knife. This was it. It was all out there.

"Y/n" he breathed. I looked up at him with tear stained cheeks. His eyes full of sorrow as he stared at me.

"I was a virgin" I admitted. His eyes went wider. "What?" He asked suddenly. I licked my lips and looked down at my feet.

"I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to not take me seriously. I-I wanted this. I thought I could do it like this. I thought it would be easier, I didn't realize that-" I stopped taking in a deep breath.

"You were my first everything" I said looking at him. He blinked at me. I realized with his expression that It wasn't fair that I didn't tell him. It wasn't fair to him and It wasn't fair to myself. "What?" His voice broke. I bit my lip and looked to the side and then back at him.

"I'm such-I thought that-" I let out a breath. I looked at him, hurt filling his face. "I thought that one day you would wake up and realize that you wanted more. That you wanted to show me to your friends not h-hide me behind closed doors-" I shook my head as a sob came up my throat, realizing how ridilcious this sounded as it came out of my mouth.

"That you'd wake up and realize that you-" I let out a shaky breath along with a sob.

"Matt, I love you" I admitted, his face dropped. "Y/n-" he breathed stepping forwards. I shook my head stepping back and hitting the wall slightly.

"I can't-" I shook my head. "I can't do this anymore" I said through a sob. "I can't live another day just being the girl who sits and waits for the boy to love her back" I cried before turning and waking out of the room.

"Y/n. Wait. Please don't-" Matt ran after me. The noises of the party came back over me as it felt like everyone's eyes came to me. I looked down hiding my face as I bolted towards the kitchen.

"Y/n?" I heard Chris's voice. I looked up at him, worry filling his face. I turned and saw Matt walking quickly behind me.

"Y/n?" I heard Lucy's voice I looked up at her. Horror filled her face and she looked at Matt approaching us. "Let's go. We're leaving right now" she said grabbing my arm and pulling me away.

I nodded as we walked to the front door, a cry coming out of my mouth. I turned and saw Chris stopping Matt, pushing his chest and Matt argued towards him before I turned around leaving the party.

Matt pov

"Y/n" I breathed, tears filling my eyes as I watched Lucy grab her arm and drag her away. I went to go after her but felt Chris push my chest back. I looked up at him, anger filled his face. I tried to move past him but he stood in front of me.

"Move" I spat harshly trying to move past him again but he pushed me back again. I watched as she walked out of the door and out of my life. I felt my heart drop. I swallowed feeling tears start to run down my face.

"What did you do?" Chris asked angrily at me. I looked over at him. "I didn't-" I breathed looking between him and Nick. "Get out of my way" I said through gritted teeth, pushing him harder. I was't losing her. Under any circumstance. She can't leave like this. What if she gets hurt? What if she does something stupid? What I never saw her again? She can't walk away like this.

I felt Nick's arm pull me back. "Matt stop!" Nick said. I turned around and looked at him. "Let her go" Nick said softly. "Nick I will rip your arm off, let me go now" I spat. He bit his lip as he looked at me. I realized that the party talk had stopped around us and everyone was looking at us.

"I will fight you in front of everyone. I don't care. I can't let her leave" I said glaring at him, my eyes full of tears. He just blinked at me. I ripped my arm away from him and sprinted towards the door. I ripped the door open and ran down the driveway, the tears clouding my vision. I could barely see.

"Please" I mumbled looking around. She was nowhere to be found. "Fuck" My voice broke. I heard footsteps come from behind me as I walked back and forth down the street. No sign of her anywhere.

She left.

I turned kicking the trash can to the ground and fisting my hair with my hand. I looked over to see Chris and Nick looking at me with a worried expression from the driveway. I tore my eyes away from them, looking away as a cry escaped my throat. I covered my face with my hands as the tears came.

I heard footsteps approach me and I felt a hand on my back. I pushed away from them. I looked up.

"A-Are you happy?" I asked looking between them. They both looked at each other. I wiped my nose and looked down. "Are you?" Nick asked looking at me, making me look up at them. "What?" I spat, trying to catch my breath. Nick sighed and looked down.

"We told you-" Chris started. "I'm not talking about this with you" I cut him off pushing past him. "I told you that you were gonna hurt her!" He screamed back at me making me stop. I glared down at the ground. "She didn't deserve that" Chris breathed. I bit my lip before letting out a deep breath. I stopped, sitting down on the grass. They walked over sitting next to me. I shook my head as I leaned down crying between my knees.

"I didn't-" I shook as their arms came around me. "How could I-" I choked. I leaned up attempting to breathe. "I should have-" I stopped as I cried. "She told me she loved me" I whispered, Chris and Nick looked at each other.

"And you didn't already know that?" Nick asked looking down at me. I looked over at him. I closed my eyes and sighed. A part of me knew that. A part of me saw it in the way she looked at me, or the way she spoke to me. The other part of me just didn't want to accept that.

"You fell in love with her too, you're just too fucking prideful to admit it" Chris said making me, bite my lip. "I don't date" I said shaking my head. Chris stood up standing in front of me. "Will you get over yourself?" He yelled down at me. I didn't look up at him.

"Look at you right now! You almost fought Nick in there for stopping you from getting to her and you're gonna sit here and tell me that you don't love her?" He yelled. I glared at my feet. "You talk about her like she's the only thing you think about for god's sake!" He said throwing his hands up.

"You're private about your life with her and I get that, I do, but if you were just using her for a good fuck and that's it- wouldn't you brag about it? Wouldn't you tell you're best friends about what she does behind closed doors?" He asked making me look up at him. I glared at him, tightening my fists.

"Chris" Nick said warningly. Chris scoffed shaking his head. "No" He said crossing his arms. "No, he doesn't." He looked back at me. "What does she do huh?" Chris said raising his eyebrows. I closed my eyes. I can't fight my brother. I can't fight my brother. My mind screamed at me.

"Is she good at giving head?" He asked suddenly my eyes snapped open at him. I let out a breath. "What kind of underwear does she wear? Hm?" He asked looking at me. I felt all the blood rush to my head. He can't talk about her like that. He narrowed his eyes at me.

"Or does she even wear any at all?" He said. I stood up pushing him back. "Matt!" Nick stood up. Chris walked back to me, pushing me and then we were in a full on brawl. He punched me in the shoulder and I punched him across the face.

"Matt what the fuck!" Nick yelled between us. Chris wiped his mouth, blood present on his hand. Chris held his hand up to stop Nick from interfering. He spat on the ground before walking back towards me. "You wanna go? Let's go fuck boy" He said motioning for me to come towards him. I walked over to him grabbing him by the shoulders and onto the ground beneath us.

"Get off of each other!" Nick yelled. He pushed himself on top of me, holding me against the ground.

"You talk about how pretty her eyes are" He breathed looking down at me. I struggled beneath him, glaring up at him. He pushed my shoulders harder against the ground. I was breathing heavy up at him. "You talk about what joke's she told" He stated. I stopped struggling.

"You talk about her like you love her" He said letting my shoulders go. I turned my head and tears started to come up to my eyes again. "You just need to get over yourself and admit it" He said climbing off me completely. I let out a breath sitting up.

They both looked down at me. I avoided their eyes and looked away.

"Of course I'm in love with her" I admitted out loud for the first time. Nick smiled down at me and Chris shook his head. "How could someone not be?" I sighed rubbing my face. "I treated her like shit" I said realizing everything I've done to her. They just stood in front of me.

"Fuck" I said hanging my head. "What do I do?" I asked looking up at them, they just looked at each other.

lollll sorry i'm just gonna leave this hear (dont hate me)❤️

#christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #Spotify

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 8 months

Note

Greetings! I have assumed that because you're Welsh you must be able to sing. Am I right, or is this an unfair stereotype of your people? (Love your blog btw)

WELL. Yes. I can. No comment on the stereotypicality, but it's certainly true that group singing is a big cultural thing, particularly among Welsh speakers.

Uh, that said, I have the lowest voice of any cis woman I've ever met or seen. Zero songs are written for my vocal range. I dream of the day I find another so we can bond OR I can finally sing something with my vocal chords and gender in mind. If you're musically inclined at all for this to make sense to you, my comfortable range is B2 - C5, which means I can encompass all of tenor, a chunk of baritone in the low end, and not quite all of alto in the high end. The closest I've ever come to finding a female singer with a similar reach is Madeline in The Amazing Devil, who hits low notes even I struggle with in That Unwanted Animal; but she can go much higher than me (and is certainly more comfortable in a higher range than me), so she's just a vocal prodigy. Every choir teacher I've ever had has confidently told me "Plenty of famous singers are altos, you're not alone!" And I'm like "That would be useful, Beryl, but I'm not an alto and they all sing higher than me."

Thinking about it, though - this is entirely anecdotal and not backed up by any actual statistics - I have consistently found over the years that Welsh voices tend towards the lower end. I'm thinking back to the choir I was in in Aberystwyth, the Elizabethan Madrigal Singers. It was a student choir, so there was a mix of nationalities but mostly Welsh and English. I remember at one point the conductor stopped us on one song and made us sing one of the phrases, section by section from the basses up. The point he was making was about our pronunciation of the word 'castle'.

"Listen to that!" he laughed. "You all need to pronounce that 'a' the same way, and this is a formal piece, it needs to be long. It's "Cahstle", not "cassle". Look how only the sopranos are doing it right!"

And one of the basses looked along the line and went "Rob... that's because they're English."

And we realised that every bass and all but one alto was Welsh; two thirds of the tenors and every single soprano was English. The higher the voices went, the fewer Welsh people were present.

(Shout out to Rob, very quickly - he was an English tenor, but on reaching Aberystwyth University he'd learned a smattering of Welsh as best he could and joined the Welsh language choir as well as the Mads to practice it. He was affectionately known as 'Rob Sais' in honour of this respect. Really nice guy. I believe he's an engineer now.)

But yeah, that's a trend I have noticed over the years in other places, too. No idea how universal that is vs just my own observations in my own bubble, but there we are

#asks #tedious personal details

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sofiareidings · 7 months

Text

Coffee Runs

Summary: The guy who's been coming to the cafe you work at finally asked why you've never called him by his name.

A/N: I'm sorry this story is so late, especially since I missed Monday's post. School has been so busy this week and I've also had a bunch if extracurricular lately. I'll try and be more on time from now on (Don't hold me to that) Also! I got the idea for this one shot from @hanllo-kitty

Word Count: 0.8k

Song Suggestions: Invisible String - Taylor Swift

It was a good job, a great job really. The cafe was in a nicer part of town and people would subconsciously give nice tips so your pay was good. Rarely were customers terrible. Most people that came in were students or really busy people rushing in and going.

There were a few regulars. Like Joe, Joe was an eighty year old man who came in everyday for a coffee and a sandwich. While he waited he would talk about the lotto numbers and how his kids were doing. There was also Lola, she was a journalist who spent most of her day sitting in the corner of the cafe while refilling the same cup until closing.

But there was only one regular you would think about while getting ready for work.

Come on, I don't know his name. Don't shoot the messenger.

He'd been coming in for the past three months almost everyday, right after the cafe opened for a coffee. He always looked a little tired and acted like it too. He barely made conversation and normally shuffled out of the store in the same fashion as the other overworked people; quickly.

You hadn't learned his name yet. He always seemed to forget to say it when you asked, which resulted in you making up something.

"Guy with the sweater vest!"

"Guy in the purple!"

"Guy with the scarf!"

You get the point.

He was your favourite regular because of his looks. God, even when he was incredibly sleep deprived he looked beautiful. He had brown hair that fell just below his sharp jaw. Brown eyes that always happened to be in the light from the cafe window, making the small gold flakes in his eyes shine. He was normally dressed in a sweater vest and neutral pants, he probably worked at some type of office. The one part of him that stood out in his outfits were his converse, odd for the rest of his outfit. You could've sworn a few times you saw brightly coloured mismatched socks.

***

The sound of the cafe bell echoed through the nearly empty shop, having only opened half an hour ago. Smiling in the direction of the person walking in you quickly noticed it was 'Guy with *whatever he had on*" who came in. Something was different, he had thick glasses on. That was new.

"Hey, just the regular coffee and donut?" You put the order into the computer, looking back up at him. Taking in the new look.

"Yeah, thanks." His lips creased into a line, you called it a tired smile, the same one he made everyday. He handed over his money and poured the change into the tip jar then stepped back to wait for his order.

A couple minutes later you came back to the counter with his order. "Guy with the glasses!"

He did his usual, smiled and grabbed his order saying bye. But just when he reached the threshold of the door he paused and turned. "Why do you do that?"

Having already turned around you paused, this was the first time he'd talked to you in a clear voice. You weren't really sure what he meant. "Do what? Did I get your order wrong?"

He cleared his throat and seemed a little frustrated. "You never say my name, you just call me guy with something. Is it just to annoy me?"

"What? No, you've just never told me your name." Laughing a little, realising the misunderstanding.

"I didn't?" His face changed to confusion, "Oh my gosh, I didn't." He realised his mistake then his face flushed a shade of red.

"Don't worry, it's okay. Guy with the glasses." You laughed, looking around the cafe for a minute, strange it was still pretty empty.

"I am so sorry, I thought I told you and you just wanted to annoy me. I feel like a jerk, you seem so nice." Genuinely sorry he apologised profusely. "Can I make it up to you?"

Deciding to take the chance, you'd been daydreaming about this guy for months. "Well, maybe you could take me on a date." A little shocked by your own boldness, your face went up like twelve degrees.

"Uh, yeah…" He trailed off, clearly flustered. "Yeah, I would really like that."

"Well then, it's a date." You beamed, internally jumping up and down out of excitement. Since when were you so forward? He made that smile he made everyday before turning towards the door again.

That's when you realised.

"Wait!" You shouted, louder than you expected. Causing your coworker to drop a cup. "You still haven't told me your name."

"It's Spencer. I'll make sure to be back tomorrow." He nodded again and chuckled lightly before finally walking through the door.

God could tomorrow morning come any quicker.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #fandom #fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn!reader #sofiareidings

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sugurufic · 27 days

Text

Student of the Year (Gojo x Reader, Geto x Reader)

Summary: Saint Teresa, the planned destination for the rich, and a dream for those who can't afford it. Of course, there's a tension between the rich and the scholarship kids, the rich ones acting so much better than the others. All of that changes, when Suguru Geto, the new scholarship kid joins, blurring the lines between the two cliques. Satoru Gojo, the resident rockstar, the son of the most affluent man, the poster boy of the rich. You, the hottest girl on campus, Satoru’s girlfriend (or are you). Friends, bitches, love and betrayal - a competition to ruin all relationships.

Content Warning: fluff, fights, focused on SatoSugu, reader is rich and low-key a bitch, fuckboy Satoru, love triangle (stsg and reader) breakups, friendship breakups, typical Bollywood drama, a few swear words, ends on a positive note

Word Count: 21k | masterlist

A/N: For those of you unfamiliar with SOTY i've attached the links to the movie's songs <3 the tall guy is Sugu and shorter one is Satoru's character

Saint Teresa - the college where dreams come true, or nightmares become real. Saint Teresa is a big name with a big game - having a big division in the trust fund kids and the scholarship kids. There’s the star of the trust fund kids - Satoru Gojo - the son of the biggest tycoon of the country, who is blessed by the gods with a charming face and a gift for music, and wants to be a rockstar. Music is his passion, but he does have a lover - only the prettiest girl of Saint Teresa, the one sought after by everyone who's anyone. She drowns in luxury, dropping brand names like they were some pop stars. The only things she doesn’t lack are beauty and money.

One might think that with the prettiest girl of the school at his side, Satoru wouldn’t even look at other people, but as the first day of the new college term rolls out, you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend of four years getting a little to cosy to Tanya, his hand on her waist and her hands on his chest. You see red - the wine in your hand finding a target besides your mouth.

You pat his back, trying to get his attention, but he pushes you off in favour of whispering dirty-nothings to Tanya, the brunette soaking up his attention. The fates are cruel and the other woman notices you first, and Satoru only turns around to see you when Tanya asks him to.

He’s shocked, surprised and begins profusely apologising for not noticing you earlier, while Tanya looks at you with an annoying smirk plastered on her face.

“You know Tanya, wine stains are the hardest to get rid off,” You tell her, feeling positively malicious, directing your anger at her instead of Satoru.

“Thanks for the washing machine tip, I guess?” She responds, her voice snarky.

“You’ll need it,” you say, before throwing the remaining wine onto her white top and stalking away from the both of them.

“Baby, listen!” Satoru calls after you, catching up easily with his long legs. “Baby, I said I’m sorry, why did you have to do that?”

“Listen, Satoru,” You emphasised on his name, an angry crease between your brows. “If you don’t leave your company this term, I will leave you. Fix yourself.”

“Baby, you look so sexy, all jealous and threatening me,” Satoru teases, licking his lips as he looks down at you.

“I’m being serious, Satoru,” You say, not using any endearments for him. “You’ve been at it for too long. Stop testing me.”

A new sports scholarship student joins Saint Teresa for the new term, state level track gold medalist and a martial arts champion - Suguru Geto. He’s from a humble background, not having the flair and pomp of the rich kids, but he has the confidence and the skills to make things work. He drives his simple motorbike to the campus from the dorms, backpack on his shoulder. His long dark hair is tied up in a bun, and a few bangs frame his pretty face.

(Kukkad)

He parks his bike at an empty spot, when two guys, one blond and the other raven haired, come up to him. Suguru looks at them, a little confused, but doesn’t say anything regardless.

“Hey bangs guy, don’t you know this parking spot is reserved for the Satoru Gojo?” Ichiji Kiyotaka says. He too is one of the scholarship kids, dressed in simple clothes. His companion, Kento Nanami, seems like a scholarship kid as well with his too-neat hair and simple shirt and jeans. “Go park your bike somewhere else.”

He looks at them, scowling, but doesn’t attempt to move his bike.

Just then, the man in question rolls in with his blue Ferrari, lips turned up in disgust on seeing his usual spot occupied with a cheap bike he can’t even be bothered to know the name of.

“Kiyotaka, why is the trash here?” His voice is arrogant and full of himself, glaring at Kiyotaka and the bangs guy from behind his opaque sunglasses. “Don’t I pay you to keep my spot empty everyday?”

“This trash is called a motorbike and runs on petrol, you see,” Suguru says, voice laced in calm confidence.

“What did you say was your name again?” Satoru asks, sparkly blue eyes scrutinising him up and down from under his fluffy white hair - right from his bun and bangs to his sneakers, lip curling in disgust.

“I simply never said it,” Suguru simply says, purple eyes fixed on him, a model of confidence.

Satoru’s sidekick, another kid paying full fees, Yu Haibara, chimed in, “Are you trying to play Crorepati with us? You’ll give options and then we’ll have to choose?”

“I’m called Suguru Geto,” Suguru finally says, the air of confidence never leaving him.

“Suguru,” Satoru tries saying his name, the disinterest in his voice feigns - behind his sunglasses, his blue eyes are trying to find a point of weakness. “Well, Suguru, this is my parking spot, and I’m asking you to take your tractor away.”

Suguru doesn’t respond, going to the blue Ferrari instead, saying, “2005 Ferrari F360 Spider convertible, 400 horsepower with alloy wheels, a great car.”

“What are you man or Google?” Kiyotaka Ichiji comments.

“Maybe he was a mechanic back in his village,” Satoru says, looking down on him.

“A valet at the nightclub,” Suguru says.

“Valet?” Satoru says, giddy on finally finding a weakness. He throws him the keys of the car, which the bangs guy expertly catches and says, “Take the keys and park my car. And here’s some cash, maybe get your tractor cleaned.” He pauses for a moment, then adds. “Keep the change,”

Everyone waits with a baited breath to see the calm, confident bangs guy reaction, Satoru with a cocky smirk on his lips as Suguru calmly gets in the driver side of the car and the engine roars to life. There’s a collective gasp as Suguru takes the 2005 F360 to the muddy ground and runs it around in near perfect doughnuts, turning the baby blue to a muddy brown. There’s a crowd gathered around him, loud gossip travelling in the crowd, half terrified, half annoyed but most of it admiring the man with the bangs.

The white haired man’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest at the rage he’s feeling - no one ever dares to cross him, especially not a scholarship kid who couldn’t even afford to be there. He is seeing red, eyes bloodshot and focused on Suguru, he’ll rip the confidence right out of him with the bangs everyone is seeming to talk about.

Satoru is ready to fight, when Suguru lazily steps out of the blue Ferrari and throws the keys right back to the owner. When Satoru is in closer range, the dark haired man takes the cash that he’d been given and hands it back saying, “Here’s some cash to get your car cleaned.” Suguru steps back and takes a short pause. “And please, keep the change.”

Being insulted like that on the first day of the new term by some scholarship brat was not on Satoru Gojo’s bucket list. He is red with rage, and throws the sunglasses off and pushes his white hair back from his forehead before raising his fists to hit the new guy, but Suguru’s easy defence only eggs him on more. They’re fighting, but Suguru has a bit of the upper hand with his expertise in martial arts. But soon the two are being pulled apart by the crowd while the rest continue recording the fight. To everyone else, it was a brilliant first day of school, and gossip fodder for everyone for the whole term.

They’re both escorted to the Dean, Masamichi Yaga’s office, the old man not very happy to be dealing with silly boy fist fights on the first day of the newest term. He has been in a nice mood this morning after talking with his bonsai plant, but that’s ruined now. He sounds jolly when he begins his questions, “Boys will be boys, bad boys, right?” His jolly tone deceives Satoru who nods in agreement.

“No, nonsense. This uncivilised behaviour is unexpected from students of St. Teresa,” He scolds them both. “Which one of you started the fight?”

“Sir, he did,” Satoru says, pointing to his left. “He parked in my spot,”

“It was empty when I came,” Suguru counters, annoyed. “It’s not your father’s parking, is it?”

“You know what, it actually is,” Satoru turns to him, nerves getting the best of him. “My father is the biggest trustee of St. Teresa-”

“You must think that your dad pays my salary as well then, Mr. Gojo,” Dean Yaga intervenes in a sassy voice. “You don’t speak like that in my office, Mr. Gojo. Speaking of your father, I’ve invited him as our first guest speaker, so he’ll be here in a day or two. I’ll let him know of your antics then,”

Satoru quickly turns around, white hair flying in all directions as the anger turns into surprise, blue eyes comically widen,“Please don’t, sir.”

“Now shake your hands like gentlemen and don’t repeat this same mistake,” Yaga says, smiling sweetly. He was an eccentric man - kinder and gentler to his plants than to most of his faculty and students. The two men reluctantly shake their hands and share a plastic smile, if only to get out of the Dean’s office.

- - - - - -

“Satoru, you were acting so recklessly,” you say, applying an ointment to the bruise on his cheekbone. The brunette Tanya, not discouraged by your wine attack, was sitting right beside your boyfriend, worrying herself. Shoko, your best friend, rolls her eyes, not very fond of Tanya or Satoru.

“Who does this new guy think he is, not respecting you?” Tanya says instead, feeding into his bloated ego. “It’s good that you taught him a lesson,”

Yu agrees, always the loyal sidekick. “That’s right, Satoru, he had no right to steal your parking spot then humiliate you like that. Bloody scholarship brat.”

- - - - -

“Suguru, you’ve earnt us scholarship kids respect,” Nanami, the blond man of a few words says. “The way you handled Satoru, I salute you on behalf of all of us.”

Suguru raises his eyebrow to acknowledge his classmate, but continues going forward, excited to hear Isamu Gojo talk about his success in becoming a raging business tycoon in the country while coming from nothing.

“Where are you going?” Kento asks. “You can’t go to the front, that’s for the trust fund kids. Come here, sit with your bank account.”

“I’ll sit where I want,” Suguru says with that calm confidence typical of him. He sits down right next to Shoko, who sat with her friends - Satoru and his group of the one-percenter kids. All of your eyes flit to him, but he seemingly doesn’t care - or if he does, he is doing a great job not showing it.

You take note of his bangs, and his hair in bun - you’re half jealous of his hair and partly angry at his treatment of your boyfriend, but you also admire his confidence. Turning back to Satoru, you see him staring at bangs guy, eyes full of spite - it seems even worse than your spite towards that bitch Tanya. “Satoru, don’t,” you quietly whisper to him, putting your hand on his. He only gives an annoyed glance, which hurts you more than it should have.

“Good morning boys and girls, I am very delighted to have our first session with a guest speaker, one of the leading business tycoons of the country - Isamu Gojo!” Dean Yaga says, and the whole crowd erupts in cheers and applause. Satoru is quick to plug his ears with his earbuds, loud music already blaring through. “We’re glad that you could join us today, Mr. Gojo.”

“I hope you are having a wonderful term so far, ladies and gentlemen,” Isamu Gojo says. He too is a big, tall man with white hair and light eyes, the resemblance with his son almost uncanny. “I would like to correct you, Masamichi, I’m the leading business tycoon of the country,” he then proceeds to laugh at his own joke, enjoying the way the Dean and the teacher’s smile drops. “See, I’m not one for guiding you to bookish studies, your teachers are enough for that. Your teachers teach you the rules of the world, but keep one thing in mind: it's the winners who make those rules. So keep up your winning spirit and dedication, and play the game to win - not to learn the rules.”

He beams with pride as the crowd roars in applause, as if he just hadn’t insulted the whole faculty body of the school. Satoru too joins the applause, even though he hadn’t heard a word - he didn’t need to, hearing the condescending words all the time back at home. Somehow, he’s even more spiteful of his own father than he is of the bangs guy.

- - - - -

“Suguru Geto,” The coach says, noticing Suguru after classes a couple of days later. Everyone knows Suguru by now - his fight with Satoru Gojo, then his calm confidence in classes, with his pretty face and unique hair is the talk of all cliques. “State Level Track gold-medalist and martial arts expert… Have you ever played football?”

“I have, sir,” Suguru says, smiling politely.

“Why don’t you come for the tryouts tomorrow?” Coach says. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“I’ll be there, sir.” Suguru promises.

Unsurprisingly, Satoru and his loyal sidekick Haibara are a part of the football team. Kiyotaka is acting as the coach’s assistant - keeping things in order for him. Satoru Gojo’s clique tries so hard to ruin Suguru’s tryouts for the team, attempting to trip him, tackle him, but his graceful movements and power packed kicks are more than enough to defend and dodge himself, all the while managing to score a perfect goal. Satoru’s usually pretty face is creased with frowns and scowls, mood sour at Suguru making it into his team. He’ll be sure to rub the bangs guy in the mud once he is appointed captain, determined to show the coach that the village brat is a bastard.

“Haibara, bring me the keys to the notice board,” Satoru says, a devious plan already forming in his head.

“What are you gonna do with that boss?” Haibara asks.

“Just bring me the keys, Haibara.” Satoru says, annoyed.

- - - - -

Two mornings later, Haibara comes to Satoru with the news that the coach was not happy with Suguru and had ordered him to jog 200 laps of the school ground - which Suguru accepted without a voice of protest. Satoru feels awful for what he’s done - delivering piss to the coach’s house and labelling it as Ganga Jal (our equivalent to holy water) signed under Suguru’s name. He watches as Suguru sends Ichiji off - who was supposed to watch his laps, but continues jogging around the perimeter of the massive St. Teresa ground.

Seeing bangs accept the punishment he deserves changes something in him, it gives him a moment of introspection, of why he was villainising the new guy so much. Sure, bangs had parked in his spot, but the spot was empty when he came. He got selected in the team, but because he was actually good at the game. He was becoming the teachers’ favourite, but that was because he was polite and performed well with just enough confidence. The girls that usually fawned over Satoru and his guitar and his music, were now fawning over Suguru’s voice and bangs, never missing the chance to admire him - but Satoru shouldn’t care - he already has the prettiest girl on campus - you.

After class, the aspiring rockstar swallows the bitter pill and calls after Suguru, “Hey! Hey!” Suguru doesn’t listen, is too engrossed in his book and continues walking. Satoru’s long legs pick up speed, and he’s power walking to catch up. “Oh hello, I’m talking to you, bangs!”

“My name is Suguru, you know?” Suguru says with an annoyed sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, Suguru,” Satoru dismisses, continuing to walk beside Suguru, who bookmarks his spot in the book before turning to him. “I came here to say thanks for yesterday morning. You didn’t have to save us, you know. I could’ve handled the coach pretty easily.”

“I know, I didn’t want to do it at all either,” Suguru says, his voice level.

“Then why did you do it?” Satoru says, his cool-kid facade falling a bit.

“I was trying to act like Mahatma,” Suguru says, upturning the book he was reading. It was a biography of Mahatma Gandhi. “I wanted to know what Gandhi felt like being so idealistic.”

“You’ve got some loose screws, man,” Satoru incredulously says, motioning the loose screws with his large hands.

“I may have some loose screws, but you don’t have any.” Suguru deadpans.

“Very funny,” the white haired man scoffs. “You did listen to my dad, I suppose that is bound to make some impact on you.”

“You know, your dad isn’t crazy, he’s a little crooked,” Suguru says. “Which is a good thing, no one reaches that level of money without being at least a little crooked.”

“Show some respect to Gandhi in your hands, man,” Satoru teases, taking the book from him. “The gods made a silly mistake, you should’ve been my father’s son.”

“Why do you care so much about your father?” Suguru says, taking back the Gandhi biography from him, his thin dark eyebrow raised.

“I don’t care for my father or my mother,”

“You do, you’re seeking validation from them.” Suguru observes. “But it seems like all you get from them is money.”

“Wow, and now you’re an expert in parents’ philosophy, right?” Satoru dodges the accusation that hit just a bit too close.

Suguru looks away, the confident demeanour shaking as he says in a small voice, “I am, now that they’re gone.”

“What do you mean gone, are they on a vacation?” Satoru asks, genuinely confused.

“They’re dead,” Suguru says with an accepting sigh. Satoru stops in his tracks, wanting the earth to swallow him whole in that moment - how could he be so stupid and insensitive? “Quit the dramatics, man, yours are alive.”

“You fucker,” Satoru says, a chuckle escaping him. “You motherfucker,” Suguru smirks, accepting the insincere swearing. Satoru’s blue eyes gleam with laughter and he pats his new friend’s chest and says, “Let’s go to the cafeteria. It’s time for me to meet my girlfriend,”

- - - - - - -

You’re on your way to the cafeteria, enjoying your conversation with Shoko about the newest phone on the market when your good mood is soured by Tanya strutting in your direction, her hefty handbag seemingly weighing her down. Her friends follow her, but you don’t pay attention to them as Tanya comes to a stop in front of you, her head tilted up to look at you and a qualifier smile on her face.

“Have you heard who became the head cheerleader for this term?” Tanya teases, her annoying smirk never leaving her face. “It's Tanya Israni,” She eggs you on, frustrated by the calm smile on your face. “You must be so upset, because this position is only given to the most popular girl of the school,”

“I’m so happy for you Tanya,” You cooly say, stepping a little closer to her. “Good for you honestly,” You cheer her on, enjoying the confused look on her face. Shoko snickers behind you, fighting the laughter from her face. “You know, it’s really not my style to take pom-poms in my hands and scream and dance to catch men’s attention. I much prefer it if they notice me and try to catch my attention, you know. So, I’m so happy you got to be the head cheerleader.”

You pat her shoulders and walk away, Shoko hot on your heels.

At the cafeteria, you’re met with Satoru, your pretty boyfriend, who whips out his guitar and sings a song in your praise, and you eat it all up. It’s been quite a while since you’ve got his attention to himself - with bangs taking up most of his time and energy. You bask in the attention he gives you, eyes not missing bangs and the way his mysterious eyes linger on you as if trying to decipher you.

“All the attention on me suddenly?” You ask Satoru, taunting his last few months of hoeing around. “Are you sick? Or did you finally fix yourself?”

“I’m getting back on track,” He jokes, putting his arms around you.

“Or maybe you just want the world to know that she is still dating you,” Shoko teases. She isn’t a fan of Satoru, but she especially hates him now that he’s started taking you for granted.

“There she is, my competition,” Satoru gently punches Shoko’s shoulder, laughing. “Shoko, did you miss me?”

“In your dreams, Satoru,” Shoko shrugs his hand off, taking a whiff of her cigarette. “Besides, your competition is right here. Suguru, right?”

Suguru nods in acknowledgement as Satoru easily orders Yu around.“Haibara, go get chairs for the girls,”

“Ah, so you’re Suguru,” You say, raising your brow, scrutinising him.

“You’re saying as if you never noticed me,” He deadpans.

“I only saw you, noticing is totally different,” You say, pushing your hair out of your face. “Anyways, I’ve got to run to class now, Satoru. I’ll see you later.” You kiss his cheek and wave at Suguru then grab Shoko and rush to class. Suguru’s dark eyes follow your figure as you leave, trying to see under your rudeness.

“Don’t even think about it, Suguru,” Satoru warns. “That’s my girlfriend.”

“Well, good for you that she’s not my type then,” Suguru says, turning to his friend. “Besides, I have different plans.”

“I don’t care about your plans,” Satoru says, practically radiating with excitement. “I’m just happy that there’s finally someone who can match me.” He then shakes his head and leaves, fixing his glasses on the way out. Haibara returns with the chair, giving an odd look to Suguru, who rolls his eyes and walks away.

- - - - - - -

Friendships, breakups, jealousy, parties - all of it was a common occurrence at St. Teresa. But every other weekend, everyone got a reality check - when they went back to their homes.

At the Gojos back in Delhi, Isamu and Akihiko, Satoru’s older brother, were discussing the stock market and the impact of the changing polls on their organisation over dinner, disregarding himself and his mother. Satoru still tries to bond with them, trying to put forth some of his opinions, “Dad, I think-”

“You think?” Isamu taunts. “Since when did that happen?”

“Satoru, leave the thinking to us intellectuals,” Akihiko says. “You focus on your music, that’s what you have talent for, no? I’ll need your help finalising the music for the sangeet function at my wedding, you know. You can think about that. Leave the thinking about the stock market to us.”

Meanwhile at your residence - your mom and her latest husband discuss the gossip of people you couldn’t care less about. How that couple treated your mother, how the woman blatantly ignored her kind words of advice, how she had a horrible taste for the interior of her house - the same old, same old.

“I’m pregnant,” You abruptly say, trying to steer the conversation to some other direction.

“What did you say young lady-” Your mother starts, and your newest step father looks nearly as aghast as you mother.

“I’m kidding,” you say, rolling your eyes with a defeated sigh. “Please continue,”

Back in Dehradun, Suguru sits for dinner with his family - his Chacha, Chachi, cousins and Dadi, mustering up the courage to finally ask for some pocket money for a chemistry project.

“Suguru, everything alright in school?” His uncle asks.

“Yeah, Chachu, everything’s great.” He bites his lip then finally says, “Chachu, actually I needed some money for a chemistry project-”

“Right,” His Chachi intervenes. “Of course, Mr. Ambani, could you please give him some money from your endless bank account?”

His Dadi beats his Chacha to it, saying, “I’ll give you the money,” then she adds. “There’s a little less salt in the food, but okay I’ll manage.”

- - - - - - - -

With Monday, everything is back to normal. There’s a change in the daily life in Saint Teresa now that Satoru and Suguru have become friends, their friendship quickly becoming one of the best the college has ever seen.

The football team is practising for the yearly match with Saint Lawrence, a match that has been won by their competitors for an unbeatable record of 24 years. Dean Yaga hopes that this will change with this batch, the wonderful players he has got and even more wonderful Coach of theirs.

Coach is in a serious dilemma watching the team practice. Both Satoru and Suguru are brilliant players and would make great captains - but the custom is to have only one captain in the team. Making one captain in favour of another isn’t something he is considering, too much has already happened between the two before they started behaving civilly.

“Yu Haibara!” Coach calls. “You’re the football team captain for this term.”

Haibara, standing between Suguru and Satoru, is startled at first, then he celebrates with delight. The two friends on either side of him share a smile, accepting their unassigned-assigned co-captaincy of the team.

On the day of the much awaited match, you, Shoko, and Kento take your spot in the bleachers, while Tanya and her cheer squad stand right by the field. Your boys in blue and your opponents in red - the two teams come out of the stands and shake hands before taking positions for the game.

It’s a mess right when it starts - the boys in blue are too defensive, but they are too focused on not letting them score, where they miss the chances to snatch the ball away from them which ultimately led to a goal. Twice before halftime. Standing at an embarrassing 2-0, your side sulks and accepts defeat, ready to lose to Saint Lawrence for the 25th time in a row.

But after the half time, your boys in blue have gone from defensive to offensive, never letting the ball pass to the opposing team in red - keeping the ball to themselves. For a moment the ball goes to the red team, but Satoru is deft to act and snatches the ball away from them with a couple of his antics, not violating any rule of the game. He scores the first goal of the match for the blue team. From the humiliating 2-0 the score was now up to a less embarrassing 2-1. Your side erupted in cheers, and you were perhaps the loudest.

The next goal is just as swift, but this time it's Suguru running with the ball, easily distracting their goalie and scoring a goal. The game is now at a tie of 2-2.

The next time, Yu manages to snag the ball from the red players and then passes the ball to Suguru who keeps two of the red defenders occupied while he pretends to go for the goal and kicks the ball to Satoru whose deft attacks give Saint Teresa the final goal of the match - and the first victory after 25 years.

The team and the bleachers erupt in cheers, and the new friends and teammates share a hug. They’re jumping on the field, looking at each other with newfound respect and admiration. Suguru’s dark bangs stick to his forehead and Satoru’s white hair drips sweat down to the grass, which he is quick to wipe with the front of his jersey. The girls nearly lose their minds, but his attention is elsewhere.

“Don't kiss me now,” Suguru teases Satoru, yelling over the crowd.

“I won’t even hug you,” Satoru says as he envelopes Suguru in a bear hug, both of them feeling the sheer joy of winning and making their college proud.

Satoru takes Suguru back home to Delhi after their match to celebrate - the lavish mansion with servants at every beck and call leaving a scanning Suguru further steeling his resolve for his success, the only thing he joined Saint Teresa for. Satoru introduces Suguru to his mother, who seems like a meek, kind woman. Suguru holds his hands together in a namaste before her.

“Your father was asking for you, Satoru,” His mother says, wrapping her saree over her free arm.

“Why, is he unwell?” Satoru sarcastically asks, but follows his mother nonetheless, dragging Suguru along.

“Dad this is S-”

“Suguru Geto, I know,” Isamu Gojo shakes his hand as soon as he hangs up the call. “I’ve heard a lot about you, son. You are a popular name among teachers. I hope your determination rubs off on him too.” The way Isamu talks about his own son, his flesh and blood makes Suguru uncomfortable, but as usual he maintains his air of calm confidence.

“Uncle, but today’s victory is all thanks to Satoru, you know.” Suguru says. “If he hadn’t made the goal -”

“Oh really, I didn’t know you were capable of anything outside of playing that damned guitar.” the older white haired man taunts. Satoru grits his teeth, eyes narrowing behind his round sunglasses.

“He doesn’t appreciate it,” Satoru says, voice bitter. “Especially if it’s me,”

“If you want to hear compliments so bad, do something that matters,” Isamu challenges. “Win that Student Of the Year trophy, then we’ll talk.”

“What's the point in winning the trophy, you won't be happy then either,” Satoru says.

“It’s not about me being happy, it’s about ambition,” Isamu says, turning to Suguru, more welcoming of him than his own son. “You tell me, Suguru, would you win the Student of the Year trophy?”

“That trophy is mine sir,” Suguru says with his signature confidence, his voice smooth and even. “Now we just have to wait for it to get home,”

“That’s the spirit,” Isamu says, patting the dark-haired man’s shoulders. “I’m happy to hear that. Maybe some of your influence will rub off on Satoru with time. Now tell me, where do you see yourself in the future?”

“As you,” Suguru says, then seeing the creased brow, he elaborates on their similarities - small town kids growing up with low money, then taking the market by a storm with sheer force of will and strategic decisions. “Maybe even a bigger business tycoon than you.”

“Now this is ambition,” Isamu says, beaming with pride. “I love your confidence, my son. Maybe not everyone wants to play a guitar now.”

“Let’s go Suguru,” He says, eager to leave his golden cage.

(Vele)

Delhi’s buzzing nightlife is where Satoru takes him for their celebration. Even though it’s just the two of them, Suguru feels strange seeing his friend interact with everyone. Of course, he was familiar with the nightlife, but he’s always been there to work, never to enjoy. Satoru with his fluffy white hair and bright blue eyes and charming words is popular among the crowd - both the men and the women. It takes him some time - a couple days - to loosen up and feel the music.

Satoru is pressing up behind a giggly woman, his signature smirk on his lips and his glasses down just enough to tease the pretty colour of his eyes. He easily moves with her, going beyond just casually dancing with her. Suguru is entertaining a girl as well, but he’s not much into it - he isn’t fond of meaningless connections.

In the morning, they get a smoke - Satoru is so different from his night self - zoned out and blue eyes droopy with a longing. “Suguru… do you miss your parents?” he suddenly asks.

Suguru takes a moment to process the question, flashes of his happier times passing in his head. “Hmm, I do,” He says, nodding.

“Me too,” Satoru says, eyes focused on something and nothing at the same time.

Come the night, Satoru is back to his womaniser self - this time having two women splayed over him rather than just one. Suguru’s mind suddenly flashes your pretty face, and he wonders if you’d approve of his behaviour. He’s disgusted by Satoru’s behaviour, how he’s an attentionwhore but is not letting you go either. He might be too poor to understand your setup, he thinks.

The next night, they’re back on campus and the whole school is celebrating at the nearest club - Satoru is again getting cosy with Tanya, not even noticing you. You’re outraged and want to cause a scene, but you don’t. You don’t know what’s gotten into him in the past year, why he’s been going out and letting women get so close to him. Why did he need this much attention? Why couldn’t you leave him? You go to the bar, and to your surprise, Bangs is the one to notice your sulking self and he gets you shot. The two of you down the bitter drink, and he flashes his. And for some reason, you find yourself smiling even when he’s gone.

The next weekend, Suguru and Satoru are back in Delhi, smoking at their usual spot when Suguru finally asks him, “Do you love her?”

“I’m a little confused,” Satoru admits, looking down.

“About her?” Suguru asks, brow creased.

“About love,” Satoru admits, looking down at his phone.

“Are you gay?” Suguru asks incredulously.

Satoru chuckles, pulling Suguru close with his shirt. “Yeah, I am come here,”

“Oi, shut up!” Suguru smacks him away, laughing.

By the night, Satoru is too drunk, and Suguru drives the blue Ferrari back to the lavish Gojo house, picks up his drunk friend and drops him on his bed. Satoru mumbles at him to stay the night. Suguru too is exhausted, and he’s out like a lightbulb almost as soon as he drops to the bed. In the morning, the loud blaring of an electric guitar in an unfamiliar but upbeat tune wakes him up. Suguru goes to the balcony and sees the Gojo family, minus Satoru having breakfast and decides to join them.

“Good morning Uncle, Good morning Aunty,” Suguru greets them. “We got late last night so Satoru asked me to stay,”

“That’s alright my son, come sit with us.” Isamu says, motioning to the empty chair. “You’re listening to what we have to put up with every morning? Our little maestro is practising,”

“I was thinking I'd ask him for music recommendations for my sangeet but listening to this, I was terribly wrong.” Akihiko says. “It’s just noise.”

“Yeah, son, Akihiko is getting married, you should join us.” Isamu says. “Yu, Yaga, Coach, Tanya and the girl who is too good for Satoru, they're all coming.”

“Satoru didn’t say anything about-” Suguru reluctantly says.

“Yeah, he isn’t invited yet,” Isamu and his oldest laugh at his joke. “No need to worry about tickets and stay, we’ll go via our jet and there’s accommodation for everyone, my son.”

“Thank you, sir.” Suguru says, his smile reserved. He cannot fathom why Isamu antagonises his own flesh and blood this much. Satoru arrives as Isamu and Akihiko leave, and they don’t leave without a taunt. “Mr. Gojo just invited me to your brother’s wedding,” Suguru says, taking a sip of the orange juice as Satoru sits down next to him.

“Wow, maybe he’ll write your name in his will too,” Satoru says, rolling his eyes.

“That’s the plan,” Suguru teases.

“Remember, the dad comes with the property,” Satoru warns, mocking his father.

“With a bank balance like that I’ll handle everyone,” Suguru jokes, and Satoru just shakes his head, unaware of his own privilege.

- - - - - -

The wedding party lands in Thailand with much pomp - the first day they only relax and enjoy Thailand. Your mood is sour again - Satoru spent the whole flight flirting with Tanya and enjoying her advances, letting her touch him in ways that only you should be able to. On top of that Shoko wasn’t there, and now you had to spend the entire weekend with this.

When you land, Tanya starts enquiring about the luggage, to which you say, “Didn’t all of your clothes fit in your handbag?” and Satoru has the nerve to get mad at you - telling you that you should mind your tongue.

“Welcome to Thailand,” Bangs says, when he crosses you.

Later, you go to the resort’s beach, hoping to finally get some time with Satoru - only to see him lying on Tanya’s lap as she smothers his chest in sunscreen. Your sour mood turns bitter, and you go back to your room, eyes threatening to spill. But you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. Was it so easy for him to let loose after four years of being your boyfriend? Was he no longer attracted to you? You ponder with the thought of leaving him, but you don’t want to give him up - you love him, you think, and you don’t want your four years to go to waste.

Unbeknownst to you, bangs was feeling similar towards Satoru’s dismissal of you - seriously questioning his friend as to why he was even looking at other girls with you by his side. If it were up to Suguru and he had a girlfriend as amazing and pretty as you, he wouldn’t even look at other women.

The next morning, you see Satoru with Tanya - whose shrill voice is just a pitch lower than a moan. She’s massaging his back and letting out sounds which can only be described as ones of pleasure. You know about pleasure, of course - but you don’t sound that obnoxious.

“Should I massage your neck, while she massages your back?” You ask Satoru, voice sickly sweet. He takes off his glasses, blue eyes narrowed in annoyance and pushes his fluffy hair away from his face before acknowledging you. Tanya’s hands get more lecherous, a smirk on her face as her dark eyes meet yours.

“What do you mean?” Satoru asks, sounding almost mad at you.

You don’t back down, saying, “I thought you were too fond of massages,” motioning to the way he was sitting in front of Tanya.

“I’m only helping Satoru release his tension, he’s always so stressed.” Tanya says, her voice artificially shrill and concerned. “See, his back has so many knots.”

“Why don’t you open a massage stall then? Everyone in Bangkok would come to you to release their stress.” You snap at her, the dam breaking.

“That’s enough! Why are you acting so insecure?” Satoru has the audacity to get mad at you, looking down at you with such annoyance that you actually start thinking that you’ve done something wrong. “I’m only chilling with my friends, no? What’s so wrong with that?”

The damn holding your tears back breaks, “There’s nothing wrong, absolutely nothing,” your voice breaks and you rush away, tears spilling.

You stand by an isolated spot, away from everyone’s eyes, letting your tears flow freely. Why is everything going wrong between you and Satoru? Did he not love you anymore? Did he ever love you? You can hear Shoko’s voice, telling you to leave him, that you deserve someone so much better than him. If he does all of that in front of you, what’s to say what he does behind your back? She had said.

Suddenly, Bangs is standing beside you, and you’re quick to wipe away your tears. You don’t want to see Satoru’s sidekick come and lecture you - you’ve had enough of that from Haibara, and you don’t want to hear the same thing from bangs. “So typical of Satoru,” You say, voice nasal from all the crying. “He can’t come face me himself, so he sends his sidekick to wipe my tears.”

“Firstly, I’m no one’s sidekick,” Bangs says, handing you a white handkerchief. It has a small back embroidery of his initials. “Secondly, I’m not here to wipe your tears, you’ve got a runny nose.” You take the white muslin cloth and quickly wipe your nose. “You’re the classy type, it doesn’t suit you.” For a moment you think that he’s talking about Satoru, but you’re quick to dismiss the thought. “Now that I’m here, do you want to tell me what’s happening or sing a lovely song for me?”

You don't look at him, focusing your teary gaze on a random spot in the distance. “I’m so fed up with Satoru,” You hate the way your voice sounds nasal, giving away just how much everything was affecting you. You felt weak and exposed, but for some reason you felt you wouldn’t get judgement from Bangs. “I’ve known him for 10 years, been dating him for 4, and from the past year it feels like all of this is a big mistake.”

“Then why not leave him?” Bangs gently suggests, but it sounds more like a genuine question and not a statement.

“I don’t like breaking relationships,” You admit.

“Then do something to get him on the right path,” He says, and you finally look at him, noticing him for the first time.

“How so?” You ask, brow raised.

“Maybe take a wrong path yourself,” He shrugs, the sun hits his shades and bangs perfectly, and you can see the violet of his eyes from this close under the sun. You cross your arms over your chest, a devious plan forming in your head with Suguru’s pretty face in your mind.

(Radha)

In the evening, you decide to take the stage and perform to the song, having coordinated with the music set up and the bride and groom. Akihiko was way too excited to see his brother get put in his place, agreeing to your idea immediately. Everything is a deliberate plan - from your pink blouse to your lehenga skirt and the way it hugs your figure in the most flattering of ways you feel and look hot.

Satoru and Tanya stand in the audience as the music starts to play, stopping the hushed whispers exchanging. Her back is still pressed against his chest, enjoying the warmth he offers. For a change, Satoru has ditched his glasses and is adorning a fancy golden kurta, the colour flattering his pale complexion and white hair. Tanya too is dressed in a sexy golden saree - and they look too much like a couple for your taste. That makes your resolve all the more strong.

Satoru watches with a crease between his white brows seeing a familiar figure on the stage, but her face is veiled by the dupatta, the lighting just dim enough to make the face of the girl a mystery. The music starts to play and when the dupatta veil falls after a few steps to reveal your pretty face - Satoru is stunned. You’re too sexy, all for him to admire. He covers his face, part astonished, part embarrassed. Tanya grits her teeth, but smiles along when Satoru tells her how pretty you look. Suguru on the other hand, dressed in a lovely navy kurta that compliments his dark hair and pretty eyes, raises his hands and cheers you on.

Much to Satoru’s surprise while dancing to the music, instead of coming to him in the crowd, you go to Suguru. An indescribable feeling climbs up his throat at the sight of you dancing and enjoying with his best friend - your steps complimenting each other so well. Tanya tries to distract him, and for a while he is distracted. Until he sees you again - you’re coming toward him so he pushes Tanya out of your way - but you only push him in a mix of playfulness and annoyance and return to Suguru.

Satoru, being the rockstar that he is, easily catches the beat of the music and is able to keep up with your practised steps, trying to get closer to you.

For a moment, the three of you are dancing together, but you lean more toward your boyfriend’s best friend - disregarding him as he has been disregarding you. Somewhere with the music, your Dean Yaga takes up the Dafli and surprises everyone with how well he plays the instrument. You, Satoru and Suguru join him on the stage, and Yaga turns into a blushing mess with all the compliments.

Suguru is surprised to have you dancing this close to him, even with your dance performance over and the DJ being open for everyone. He pushes you away when you get a bit too close, for perfume all up in his nose and your pretty, decorated eyes looking up at him with such affection. He grabs your shoulders and pushes you back a little when you get too close again - worried about all the eyes on him and you - he doesn’t want to cause a scene. He can feel Satoru’s burning gaze on the two of you and he does not like that.

When you get too close a couple more times, he’s finally had enough and grabs your arm to take you away from the crowd, brows creased and a scowl on his face. Suguru doesn’t like this spark that ignites inside him with your pretty face and sweet voice and lovely outfit. He shouldn’t feel this way about you - you’re his best friend’s girlfriend, after all.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His yell isn’t loud, but his voice is scolding.

But the playfulness doesn’t leave your eyes, and you look at him as if he should be in on some secret that he isn’t in on. “You only said to take the wrong path,” you say, a teasing smile on your lips, enjoying the frustrated expression on his usually stoic confident face. “What’s a better wrong path than you?”

“Don’t be stupid, girl,” He scoffs. “Satoru is my best friend,”

“That’s why you’re perfect.” You explain, and your pretty eyes are such a tease, Suguru thinks. “You’re helping your friend by saving his relationship, and I know you won’t try to take advantage of me. Maybe we’ll also become friends by this. It’s not a bad thing, you see. Right?” You put your hands on his crossed arms, your bangles clinking as you try to shake him into agreement

His purple eyes gaze at you for a long moment, and you pretend to fix your bangles, feeling flustered under his steady gaze. You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself if he refused your offer.

“You’re not as stupid as you seem,” Suguru has a rare, genuine smile on his face, calm, steady voice returning. “So… What’s the plan?”

You look up at him with a child-like smirk, twirling your dupatta between your fingers. “Now we’re talking,” you say, then you drag him away.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru’s eyes have been following the two of you and he didn’t know he was capable of feeling such jealousy - until he saw you with Suguru - perhaps the only man who can compare to him. He cannot hear the words you exchanged, but the ways you looked at each other spoke louder to him than any words ever could. Have you ever looked at him like that? Like the way you teasingly looked up at Suguru, batting your pretty eyes at him?

The next morning, Satoru is lying in the sun on the beach, with Tanya sitting behind him, lotion in her hand. He sat up straight on seeing you, eyes peeled and sunglasses off - you’re so hot in a yellow and honey coloured bikini - hair wet from the time you had spent in the water. The sun makes your skin glow like the goddess that you are, trying not to laugh at the way your boyfriend’s jaw has dropped, the girl sitting behind him long forgotten. Satoru half raises his hands, wanting you to sit with him. It’s comical the way both their heads turn when you go past him to Suguru, who was casually laying in the sun, shades on his eyes and reading a business magazine.

“May I sit here?” You ask the pretty guy with the bangs, voice deliberately sultry.

“Yeah, sure,” He says, putting down the magazine and sitting up to make space for you behind him. Satoru and Tanya have extremely confused expressions plastered on their faces, and Satoru looks like a kicked puppy his blue eyes narrowed and lips pouty that you almost let up the act. Almost.

You sit behind him, sure to make your curves stand out just a bit more, fixing your hair to one side. You let out a small gasp, touching Suguru’s toned shoulders over his shirt. “Oh dear, you seem so stressed,” you say in the same sultry voice. “May I help in releasing all this tension of yours?”

“Please,” Suguru says with a sigh, head turned away from Satoru but towards you. You try to ignore the way his voice affects you. But can’t really blame yourself - his already nice voice is now deliberately sinful. You pull his open shirt off his shoulders, admiring his back. You don’t need to pretend to fawn over him, a realisation that disturbs you more than it should.

Taking some lotion in your hand, you begin massaging his back, both of you playing the part well of making noises that sound much like sounds of pleasure - it’s funny the way Satoru suddenly straightens up and Tanya tries to mimic you, trying to get Satoru to make noises similar to the one Suguru was making. The man in front of you sounds incredibly sexy, even if it was just pretend. Your brain begins a thought - if this is how good he sounds when pretending, how much nicer he’d sound with the real - but you stub it before the thought completes.

When Satoru doesn’t make any noises, too focused on the way you’re touching his best friend - the pretty hands that should be touching him instead - Tanya asks him to make some noise, in order to assert some sense of dominance. Satoru lets out a funny noise of complaint, throws his sunglasses in the sand and stalks away.

The two of you giggle and share a high-five, watching the squirming Satoru rush away from you. Your plan was working perfectly.

Later in the evening, you enjoy a stroll on the beach with Suguru, his silky hair down for a change, the wind making it flow in a graceful dance. You’ve never wanted to touch someone's hair this bad ever before, so you reach out and do - his hair is softer than any fabric you’ve ever touched. Suguru gives you a small smile.

He’s mesmerised by the way your eyes soften, the moonlight making you glow. He’s unaware of everything except you, of how your eyes are looking at him kindly, of how you mentioned having a rough relationship with your mother and never knowing your father, of telling you about the time his parent’s car had crashed, taking them away from him.

“He’s gone,” you whisper, and he’s pulled out the trance your eyes had put him in. “You’re such a nice actor Suguru,” you say, a cheery smile returning to your face. “Let’s go back in now before it gets too dark.”

The next morning, Suguru sips his champagne and watches you with a heavy heart, you look so pretty in your white and gold lehenga, dancing to the music with the mehendi drying on your hands. He’s admiring you from afar - seeing as you spot Satoru and make a sour face at him, then turning around to see him with a bright smile on your face. You mouth to him if she looks okay, and he mouths back that you look fantastic, doing the okay gesture with his fingers and grinning. You’ve accidentally matched - the yellows and oranges of your lehenga matching his kurta. Your focus is diverted back to the music, and your dance is graceful.

“Oi, why are you acting like Romeo all of a sudden?” Satoru says, rolling the sleeves of his light blue kurta, seemingly squaring up. “I’ve been seeing this for two days now. What happened to her not being your type?”

“Well, she is now,” Suguru says, taking a sip from his glass.

“Stay away from her,” Satoru says, brow creased and lips pressed in distaste.

“And why would I do that?” Suguru challenges, raising a brow.

“She’s my girlfriend-” the white haired man says, blue eyes wide with rage.

“Since when?” Suguru asks, steadily holding his gaze.

“Don’t play with me Suguru,” Satoru says, ready to snap. “I’m being serious,”

“You? Serious?” Suguru notes. “Satoru, your whole problem is that you aren’t serious. You don’t have the time to be serious.”

“What-” Satoru stammers.

“Meaning that - when was the last time you held her hand? Hugged her? Looked into her eyes and spoke to her? Told her that you love her?” Suguru fires the questions straight at his best friend.

“Who even -” Satoru gets defensive all of a sudden.

“Stop acting like a cool dude.” Suguru asserts. Then, with a smirk on his face, he teases, “Seeing her with me made you jealous, right? You were scared, right?” Satoru can only nod, hiding his eyes with his fluffy hair.

“Good, because that was our scheme to bring you back to the right track.” Suguru finally confesses, seeing his disheartened best friend.

“What do you mean scheme,” He began. “You and -”

“Yeah,” Suguru nods. “You aren’t going to find a girl like her, man. I mean just look at her, she is beautiful.” His voice turns softer, serene, “The way she laughs, the way she dramatises things, names fashion designers on little things. She has the brains, the anger, but she has the right too. She lacks love and affection, she wants love. She isn’t too clever, maybe that is why she is in love with you.”

Satoru is truly stupefied by his friend’s assessment of you. “You’re so sweet, Suguru,” he teases, playfulness back in his crystal blue eyes. “You did a PhD on her just to put some sense into me.”

Suguru puts his hands on his friend’s shoulders, encouraging him, “Okay, now go and be nice to her. If you let her go, I’ll catch her.”

Satoru elbows him, saying, “If you do that, I’ll kill you.” He steps away, but a thought bothers him, “Are you sure you dont like her?”

“Her?” Suguru teases. “It’s you-”

Satoru smacks his shoulder, but then pulls him into a hug. He’s so grateful to have a friend like Suguru, how he showed him what he was doing wrong.

The sound of your name from Satoru’s smart mouth has you turning around, and he takes that opportunity to finally wrap his arms around you, muttering, “I’m really sorry baby,”

“Shhh,” you hush him. “It’s said that hiding your boyfriend’s name in your mehendi, if he finds it then it may be a love to last different lifetimes,”

He takes your hand, his blue eyes full of adoration, “Shall I try?”

“Yes,” You snarkily say, taking Tanya’s hand and handing it to him.

And finally he ignores her in favour of you, muttering your name like an apology. You’re not yet done testing him, so you wipe the wet mehendi on his face, smearing his porcelain skin a dark muddy colour.

In the evening, during the wedding ceremony, as the bride enters with her brothers and uncles, you rush - the stubborn jhumki not locking properly. You hastily motion for two more minutes to the other bridesmaids, running and trying to put the jhumki on your right ear at the same time. Fortunately you see Suguru, and show him the state of your jhumki, unable to keep the smile off your face. He thinks you’re adorable like this, annoyed at a stubborn piece of jewellery.

Suguru takes the jhumki from your hand, instead styling your hair in a manner to keep the missing earring hidden. His purple eyes are so expressive in their appreciation of your yellow-gold outfit and makeup - it makes you feel so beautiful. His large hands are gentle on your hair and it comes as no surprise that he was so good at styling your hair.

You join the bridal party quickly, spotting Satoru, who makes a gesture of heat on seeing you, you return his gesture - but with a throwing-up one. He laughs, but the smile disappears once he sees his father hug his older brother, so full of pride that he’s never seen.

Tanya is quick to snatch the silver tray of rose petals in your hands, and you laugh, running your hands through your hair only to feel your absent jhumki, suddenly remembering Suguru. You turn around, trying to find him, only to see him already looking at you, a pretty smile on his pretty face. You motion him to come closer to the mandap, and when he refuses, you walk over to him and grab a hold of his arm, wanting him to stay close to you. He still refuses, but he has a smile on his face, a smile worth swooning over, you note.

A heavy hand settles on your shoulder, and Satoru’s blue eyes sparkle with a smile as they take you in, wanting you to stay with him. You refuse him at first, not wanting to leave Suguru behind, but when his bangs move as he shakes his head, allowing you to go, you let up in your attempts to get him. Satoru takes you right out of his hands, taking you close to the mandap and sitting behind the bride and the groom.

He has a quiet laugh on his face when you make a face at him, and you cannot recall the last time he had been this nice to you. Pushing that thought behind, you look at the rituals, when Satoru elbows you, telling you without words that soon you’ll be in place of his brother and sister in law. You’re quick to dismiss him, too quick, smacking his hand off yours.

- - - - - - - -

After the wedding weekend, Suguru has become a little more distant, only speaking when spoken to.

Shoko is on her way to class when she sees Suguru’s usually inexpressive eyes filled with a deep longing, only to see you and Satoru in his line of sight. You still hadn’t gotten the time to catch her up to speed, but she cannot mistake the softness of his eyes. You’re sitting on Satoru’s lap, with him making you giggle over something, his white hair all up in your face.

“Hey,” She says, walking up to you and Satoru. You say a cheerful hi, a beaming smile on your face.

“Your boyfriend’s here, baby,” Satoru teases. He gently punches her shoulder, saying, “Hey handsome,”

“Can we do this later?” Shoko asserts. “Come with me,” She tells you. You kiss Satoru’s cheek before getting up and walking out of his earshot with your best friend, curious about what was bothering her.

The sound of your name has your attention, and she begins, “Look, I don’t know what happened between you guys this weekend,” she pauses, looking into your eyes. “But I just saw Suguru, and I think that he likes you,”

“Suguru? Are you mad?” You dismiss her concern with a small shake of your head. “Satoru and I are now stable because of his help,”

“He was staring at you girl,” She says. “Only one-sided lovers look at other people like that,”

“You were also staring at him,” You tease, bumping against her shoulder with a chuckle. “Sorry, you were observing him,”

“Don’t try to act so smart now,” She says, a frown on her face. “I just let you know what I saw, the rest is your choice.” Shoko walks away, leaving you staring at her brown bob.

You think over her words for a moment, and your feet involuntarily take you to Suguru. He was easy to spot in the crowd - his tall stature and his dark bun gave him away easily.

“Good morning, Suguru,” You say, trying to be cheerful.

“Morning,” He acknowledges you, voice back to his indifferent confidence. He’s quickly turning around, not waiting for you.

“Listen!” You call, and he turns to you. “I just wanted to thank you once again…”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” He says, quickly turning away once again.

“Suguru…” You say his name, fiddling with your fingers. You don’t know why you feel this nervous. He wouldn’t be the first guy to like you, but then why was your heart beating so furiously, why was your face burning. “Is everything fine? Like between the two of us?”

“No, nothing is fine,” Suguru says, fully turning to you. His cold indifference hurts you more than you’d like to admit. It hurts in a way different from Satoru’s indifference. His indifference makes you mad, but Suguru’s detached voice makes you sad. You don’t know if it's a good thing or a bad one.

You suddenly feel the need to explain yourself for some reason, words coming out with a stammer, which was unlike yourself. “Suguru, I love Satoru,”

“I know,” He says, his voice even. “Are you telling that to me or yourself?” Your taken aback by his question, but before you can answer, he adds, “I came to Saint Teresa with one thing in mind - to make a better future for myself and win that Student of the Year trophy… got distracted for a bit, but now I see my goal crystal clear, and no one can come between me and the trophy now.”

The Competition

Dean officially announces the SOTY competition open: four phases and eight finalists and one winner. Starting from the aptitude exam, to the treasure hunt, the dance competition and the final triathlon - the competition is meant to judge the students on all grounds, and only the one who is the best at everything wins.

Everyone is spending their every waking minute preparing for the aptitude assessment in their own way - hiding the fact that they are studying from their friends. You pretend to read Vogue instead of your textbooks, Shoko pretends to sleep but holds up a torch in her comforter to read. Nanami stacks books on top of books, the ever studious man of the school. Satoru pretends to compose music but he’s actually going through his statistics notes, with you helping him with his coffee and providing motivation to each other to study. Suguru has grown a little more detached from your circle, but he doesn’t hide the fact that he is preparing for the exam. Tanya is spending her time preparing - to cheat, that is, making her settings with the nerds. Haibara tries to mug everything up, but finally gives up and starts focusing on his prayers instead.

Come the time of the result announcement - all of you make it to the top sixteen, moving on to the next round - the treasure hunt. To everyone’s surprise - Tanya makes it into the top 16, with the 16th position, Satoru makes it to the 10th spot, you make it to the 6th, Shoko makes it to the 4th, Suguru to the 3rd, Nanami to the 2nd. But to everyone - even Dean Yaga who was announcing the result, he had to take his glasses off and read correctly - it was Yu Haibara of all people that got the 1st position. Nanami nearly lost his mind, with Ichiji having held the blond man back to stop him from attacking Yu right there.

Once the gang's all outside, Kento grabs Haibara by the collar of his blazer and demands, “How the fuck did you get first?”

“I don’t know, I just said Jai Mata Di and marked all the answers,” Haibara says.

“Nanami, stop being such a drama queen,” Satoru complains. “All that matters is that all of us are in the top 16 now. What does it matter who wins or loses?”

“It matters,” Suguru says, volunteering in a conversation involving someone other than Satoru for the first time in days. “We have big intentions, and you have an affluent dad. You can easily join any university per your choice… We don’t have that privilege.”

“You’re after my dad so much,” Satoru says, making gestures with his hands. “Please take my dad and give me your intentions instead.”

Suguru just shakes his head at that, but Tanya intervenes with her sultry voice, “If you want my intentions,” she twirls her hair. “I’ll happily give them to you.”

You can feel Satoru’s hand raise, but you push it down by his shoulder, yet he still manages to blow a kiss in her direction. “The entire college knows of your intentions, Tanya,” You say, pushing down your boyfriend’s hand which blows a kiss at her yet again despite your efforts. “We’re drifting off topic here. We were talking about the competition and I believe there shouldn’t be any competition among friends. Right, Shoko?”

“Right…” Shoko says. “That’s why you were hiding when you were studying?” Satoru pushes you away, but you still hold his arm. Shoko continues, “Come on guys, if our goal is the same, there will be a competition,”

Satoru makes a pouty face, hissing to tease her,“Shoko, does that mean to win the competition yourself, you’ll make your best friend face defeat?”

“Yes,” Suguru says without hesitation, and all heads turn to him. “Perhaps,”

“He’s kidding,” Satoru chuckles, but Suguru doesn’t add to that, turning the pages of his book instead.

A couple days later, the top 16 after the aptitude test got to the fun part - the treasure hunt involving the entire campus. Four teams of four members each.

Suguru, Haibara, you were in one team, Team A; Satoru, Nanami, Shoko and Tanya in Team B and the rest were divided into two other teams. Taking their first clue, the teams rushed to solve the riddle to get to their respective locations.

Suguru opened the clue card, reading out the riddle: Neela Asmaan Upar bhi Neela Asman Neeche bhi, paana hai jawab, toh gehrayi me jaao janab. (Blue sky above, blue sky below too, If you want to get the answer, then go deep sir.)

Haibara whines on hearing the riddle, snatching the envelope and scanning it as if to see any answer that maye have been hidden. “Yaar, what does this clue even mean? How can there be a sky up and sky below too? The first clue itself has our hopes running in the water,”

“Haibara, you’re a genius!” Suguru says, grabbing the brunet’s shoulders and shaking him.

“Really?” Haibara beams, before Suguru yells, “No!” leaving him confused. Suguru takes off, leaving the three of you to chase him with your shorter legs.

Meanwhile, Satoru opened Team B’s first clue and read out the riddle: Atit ki muskaan hai ajit ki pyaari, Nazron se peechha kare, adbhut hai ye naari. (The smile of the past is Ajit's beloved, follows you with her eyes, this woman is amazing.)

“Who’s this Ajit?” Nanami asks. frowning. “Any faculty member?”

“No, it’s not a faculty member,” Satoru says, thinking hard.

“I only know one Ajit (Ajit Khan),” Nanami says, and Satoru catches up. The both of them simultaneously say, “Mona darling, sona kahan hai?” (Mona darling, where’s the gold? - an iconic dialogue)

“Anywhere,” Tanya says in her sultry voice, playing with her hair. She’s just happy to be part of Satoru’s team.

“That’s it!” Shoko screams. “It’s the Mona Lisa!” and the four of them take off running to find the room with the Mona Lisa.

In the meantime, Suguru reaches the swimming pool, where you, Haibara and your fourth teammate frown, when Suguru recites the riddle again and deciphers it to be the swimming pool. He’s quickly taken off his shoes, socks and t-shirt and jumps into the pool, finding the next clue at the bottom.

You open the clue as Suguru puts his shirt and shoes back on. The clue reads: Ped bhi hu aur nahi bhi, baat karo toh sunu bhi, khoobsurat hu aisi mai, ke baat kare guru bhi (I am a tree and I’m not, if you talk then I listen, I’m so beautiful, that the teacher also talks to me)

“Tree, the plantations?” Haibara suggests and the four team members rush from the swimming pool to the plantations.

Team B finds Mona Lisa in the assembly hall, a brick with her hair holding the clue. Even Satoru has to jump to fetch that clue. The second riddle read: Farishte ne gaaye zindagi ke geet, asmaan se aayega unka mit, sade nau baje unka milan, jawab degi suraj ki kiran. (The angels sang the songs of life, their friends would come from the sky, meeting at nine thirty, the sun's beam would answer.)

“Where will we get angels?” Tanya dumbly asks.

Satoru leans close to her, and says in an annoyed voice, “In the canteen,”

“Really?” Tanya says, seemingly believing him.

The answer suddenly strikes Satoru, and he yells out, “The Church, the Church! We have only five minutes to nine-thirty, run!”

It’s hard for Shoko and Tanya to keep up with Satoru and Nanami’s long legs, but they somehow manage. They reach the church just in time - and the sun beam is falling on the Hymn Book of the choir. Satoru is quick to snatch the clue out of the book, and reads: aakhri padav aakhri mystery, kitni majboot hai aapki chemistry (Last stop, last mystery, how strong is your chemistry)

“Let’s go, chemistry lab!” Satoru yells, and Team B rushes away.

“Wait, wait!” You yell, stopping your teammates. “It said tree so we rushed here, but there is no guru visible!”

“Yaar are we looking for this guru or the plant?” Haibara asks.

“We’re looking for the clue,” Suguru deadpans.

“I’m telling you this is not working,” You pant out.

“If you have any other bright idea why don’t you share it with the class?” Suguru says, annoyed.

“Why are you being so mean?” You snap.

“Yeah, man, leave bhabhi alone,” Haibara says, at which Suguru snaps even worse than he did at you. “Abey! Bhabhi hogi teri.” (idk how to write this in english)

“Who is the guru on this campus?” You ask, catching your breath.

“Waheguru?” Haibara prompts.

“We don’t have a Gurdwara on campus, Yu!” You say, frustrated.

“Well, there should be one!” Haibara protests.

“Take that up with Yaga!” Suguru says.

“That’s it!” You jump, clasping your hands as if releasing them would take your answer away. “The guru is Yaga! He’s famous for talking to his bonsai plant!” Then you all rush off to Dean Yaga’s office, finally finding your third clue. You snap the envelope open as Suguru lifts up the bonsai plant, and quickly start reading out loud: aazad hindustan ki peheli awaaz, khamosh kamra batayega yeh raaz. (The first voice of independent India, a silent room will tell this secret.)

“The silent room! It’s the library,” Suguru yells and all of you run to the library.

“Nanami, fast, grab the envelope!” Shoko yells. Satoru beats him to it, opening it only to find a blank envelope.

“What man, Nanami, it's blank!” Satoru gets frustrated and shoves the envelope to Nanami.

“I’m sorry on behalf of the organisers!” Nanami snaps back.

Shoko snatches the envelope from Nanami, shushing the two idiots up. “Let me think,” she says.

“Now what exactly are we looking for?” Haibara asks once you are in the library.

“Independent India's first voice…” you mumble trying to recall your history lesson. “It was Nehru,” you remember.

“Tryst with destiny!” Suguru suddenly remembers, and the four of you rush to the history section.

“You were right, Shoko!” Nanami says, rubbing the ammonia solution on the black envelope. “The ammonia makes the ink visible!”

“Okay okay, now what does it say?” Shoko asks, jumping with excitement.

The final clue is same for everyone, the riddle saying: khush toh bohot hoge tum ki yeh hai aakhri padav, savere waali ghanti se paar hoga yeh chadav, dhyaan se padhna isko aur dena apna sujhav, kyunki upar waale alfaz karenge jeet ka chunav. (You will be very happy that this is your last stop, this climb will be crossed by the morning bell, read this carefully and give your suggestion, because the above words will choose the victor.)

“The morning bell?” Haibara mutters. “Our period bell?”

Team A runs from the library, climbing up the stairs to try and reach the period bell. On their way, they spot Team B, already higher up in the floors, closer to the period bell of the school. Suguru, Haibara and you find the step ladder and pull it near to the bell, and Haibara quickly climbs up the ladder as you and Suguru hold on to it for stability. Meanwhile, Nanami has taken to walking on the roof instead of taking the normal path, surprising everyone.

Soon it’s a race between Nanami and Haibara, and Haibara wins, striking the bell first. Just then, Ichiji comes and yells, “It's the wrong answer!”

“Oh! Oh! It’s the bell tower!” You yell, excited as you realise the answer. Suguru tries to shush you, but you yell again, “It’s the bell tower!”

“Thanks, bestie!” Shoko yells from above, and the next chase is between you and her, and she is faster. From the lecture building to the bell tower it’s a hard chase, and you’re already too out of breath, so Shoko manages to climb the stairs more swifty than you can. You reach the top just as Shoko rings the bell, only to be told that this answer is wrong as well.

Both your teams have gathered back in the ground, with all eight minds thinking over the riddle over and over. Aaj khush toh bohot hoge tum, Suguru and Satoru seemingly share a brain cell and think of the iconic dialogue of the movie Deewaar. In the scene of the dialogue, Amitabh Bacchan’s character can be seen ranting to the goddess in a temple.

They both look at each other, spelling out a swear word and sprint off to the in campus temple. They are both fast, but Satoru has an upper hand of not having his drenched pants weighing him down. It’s an intense run down between two best friends having a fun rivalry - running to win rather than to defeat. Satoru takes a head start, but Suguru’s track medals have not been in vain and he manages to outrun Satoru and hit the bell just a moment earlier than Satoru, falling to his knees on the white marble of the goddess Saraswati’s temple, both of them bursting out in laughter and sharing a high five.

After Dean Yaga congratulates Team A and praises Team B’s performance, Satoru puts his hand on Suguru’s shoulder and pats his chest. “Let’s go celebrate, you win, Suguru,” He says, peeking up at him from behind his glasses. “I want to go home with you?”

“Why do you want to go home with me?” Suguru asks, raising his eyebrow.

“I am craving some home-made food,” Satoru says. “Come on, please,”

“You don’t have food at your house?” Suguru teases.

“I’m bored of my home’s room service,” Satoru replies.

Suguru shakes his head, patting Satoru’s shoulder, “Let’s go,”

“The food is fab, Dadi, it’s fab!” Satoru says, quickly gulping down a spoonful of the rajma and rice.

“You should come more often then, son,” Dadi says, a cheerful smile on her old face. She looks amazing for her age - most of her hair is still black and her eyes hold a youthful charm with the wisdom that comes as one ages.

“I had to invite myself, even today,” Satoru chuckles. “Do you know - your grandson isn’t normal. Did he fall as a baby?” Dadi laughs at that, but Suguru’s Chachi makes a sour face.

“Aye, shut up and eat your food,” Suguru says in his deadpan voice.

“Suguru, that is not the way to speak to guests,” His Chachi chides. She turns to Satoru, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Satoru, son - Can I call you son?” Satoru nods with a spoonful in his mouth. “You look much more charming and handsome in real life than you look in those Page 3 photos,”

Suguru and Dadi share a glance, stifling their laughter at Chachi’s comment. “Save some butter for the chapatis, Geeta.” Dadi scorns.

“Butter is expensive, Mother,” Chachi sneers. “We only have words to work with in this house,”

“We’re shareholders in your dad’s company, Satoru,” His Chacha says, trying to dissolve the tension. “Suguru, you must take some tips of the stock market from him and share it with me,” he chuckles. “Let us benefit from your friendship,”

“I’ll make use of his friendship,” Suguru says with a smile, holding Satoru’s gaze. It is a smile shared between friends, meaning unknown to others. “I’ll use him to my benefit so much that I’ll leave him behind,”

“Of course, you should buy the Taj Mahal,” Chachi snaps, her voice ringing in everyone’s ears. “Dreams don’t need any money,”

“Dreams are for duffers like me,” Satoru suddenly says, unable to stand the way Suguru’s Chachi speaks to him. “Suguru is a blue-chip investment. He will make you guys millionaires. You’ll see,”

Suguru’s dark eyes are filled with such adoration and respect for Satoru - for he has never had a friend believe in him this much. His support meant the world to Suguru, and he thinks that maybe letting people get close to him isn’t too bad.

He walks Satoru to the door, calling after him before he manages to get to his blue Ferrari. “What you said in front of Chachi, it felt nice,” Suguru says in a small voice, hands shoved in his jeans pocket and eyes on the grass. “Felt like my own person was saying it,” When he looks up to meet Satoru’s blue eyes, he adds in a teasing voice, “I didn’t know Mr Gojo’s useless son had this talent,”

“Yeah roast and compliment me in the same sentence,” Satoru shakes his head with a smirk. “Is that how you say thanks?”

“Okay, I’ll say it,” Suguru inhales a deep breath. “Thank you,”

“Thanks,” Satoru says, nodding as he studies Suguru closely. “Why do you always hide your emotions?”

“Why are you talking like a woman?” Suguru tries to dodge.

“I’m talking about my heart and feelings,” Satoru admits with a sigh. “There’s no one back home who will listen to me, and I don’t think [name] really gets me. So I thought I’ll try to speak to you,”

“I too lack practice in that matter,” Suguru confesses. “Those who listened to me are gone now, and Dadi has hearing aids.”

The two friends chuckle, and Satoru says, “So basically we are in the same situation,” he puts his hands on Suguru’s elbows, adding, “Whatever happens, we will always share it with each other.”

Being a tease is Suguru’s defence mechanism, so he says, “Are you going to kiss me right now?”

“I won’t even hug you,” Satoru punches his shoulder. “Okay, I’ll see you.”

“Suguru!” His Chacha’s voice comes from inside the house. “Call an ambulance - Mom - I don’t know, just call an ambulance, quick!”

Satoru follows them to the hospital, and Dadi is being taken to the critical care unit - the doctor says she had a cardiac arrest. Suguru is following them, worry written all over his pretty face when Chachi suddenly stops him, asking him where he thinks he’s going.

“Dadi-”

“We will look after your Dadi,” Chachi sternly says. “You bring bad luck wherever you go,”

Suguru doesn’t fight back, but the words cut deeper than any superficial wound ever could. As soon as his Chachi turns around, Suguru nearly runs out of the hospital, Satoru hot on his heels, calling after him. He tries to console him, but Suguru only pushes him off.

“Suguru,” Satoru says, hugging him despite his protests. He returns the hug after a moment, then pulls away quickly feeling the lump in his throat threaten to explode. “Are you okay or do you need another hug?”

Suguru smiles with tears in his eyes, not letting them fall. “I’m okay,”

The next morning, you’re there with flowers in your hands, ready to see Suguru. You wave at him with a small, reassuring smile and a frangipani bouquet in your hands - he’s holding your gaze, and to your surprise, he returns your smile and waves back.

“Suguru, I know you’re mad at me,” You say once you’re close to him. “You don’t even look at me lately, I don’t know what I did wrong but - ”

“I’m not in the mood to listen to your sad rants,” He says, voice breaking. “Dadi is unwell,”

“I know,” You say, exasperated. “That’s why I’m here Suguru.” His eyes hold so much grief and pain in them, and you want to hug him, let him cry on your shoulder and tell him that you’re going to be there for him no matter what - but you refrain. “Are you okay?” you softly ask.

“I’m okay,” Suguru nods, then turns to you, examining your outfit - it’s a short green dress with a low neckline and a pullover over it, with knee high boots. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” You ask. He eyes your clothes, and you begin to explain, “I know, I know - I don’t have any clothes suitable to come visit the hospital. I am going to go shopping today though.” He is extremely confused and you add, “I want to come here daily, Suguru.”

Suguru’s smile - so full of gratitude and his usually stoic eyes full of tears - welcome you and you take that as a step forward. You don’t know why you’re so giddy at him letting you come visit. You never bothered making friends with Satoru’s old friends before coming to Saint Teresa, but right now he’s the farthest thought in your heart when you look at the man in front of you; so vulnerable and needing support, but without the voice to ask for it.

“Happy birth-” You accidentally say while handing him the flowers, then turn away quickly, embarrassing yourself. Why you turn so stupid around him, you have no idea. He makes you nervous, you want to impress him, want him to think that you’re both pretty and smart, that you’re worthy of - what, you don’t know. You fear the answer, so you don’t dwell on it.

(Ishq Waala Love)

You turn around to look up at him, playing your embarrassment off with a confident smile on your face, and Suguru teases a smile at you, putting the frangipani to his chest.

Walking away, you’re suddenly intercepted by Satoru - he takes you by surprise - wrapping his arms around you with a cheerful greeting of “Hey, baby,” and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You had completely forgotten about him while you were with Suguru - but the pretty man with his black bangs doesn’t leave your mind while you’re in Satoru’s arms, his white hair tickling your forehead. You push him back a little, trying to put some distance between the two of you as your eyes flit back to Suguru - he’s already looking at you, back to his grieving self.

The next day, you’re back dressed in a yellow and orange suit, strutting to Suguru and Satoru sitting on the bench outside. Twirling the ends of your dupatta between your fingers, you deliberately make a show of ignoring Satoru, batting your eyes at Suguru, saying, “I want to meet Dadi,”

“No,” Suguru says, his voice soft, matching his violet gaze.

“Why?” You ask, brows knitted. “Am I not dressed correctly?”

“Yeah,” Satoru says, his voice is soft but has an edge of laughter. “Let’s go to the mandir?” You narrow your eyes at the laughing duo and stomp away. Satoru follows after you when Suguru tells him to, eyes crinkles with laughter.

Later, you sit beside Suguru when he is with Dadi, who is passed out on the white bed, connected to many machines. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, so close but so far away, too many things clouding your hearts and minds.

You’re sitting between Suguru and Satoru, the three of you drinking coffee and making jokes, when you’ve subconsciously leaned against Suguru, your head on his shoulder, looking up at his pretty smile with a toothy grin of your own. You hold his arm for a moment before coming to your senses and putting a little distance between the two of you. Satoru puts his arm across your shoulder and pulls you close, but his embrace doesn’t bring the familiar warmth. You push him away, annoyed at his lame joke and take the empty cups from both the men, throwing them in the bin.

It's the final time for Dadi, time for everyone to say their goodbyes. Suguru sits outside her room, his tall frame sulking and alone, bangs half trying to hide the pain and sorrow in his eyes. Your heart cries for him, wanting to embrace him, to show him that you will be there for him no matter what, that you care for him and you won’t hurt him.

Suddenly, Satoru is in front of you, caressing your cheek with his gentle touch, fingers roughed up from his guitar, asking if you want to go get coffee with him. It’s like you are suddenly doused in cold water, pushed out of your trance, and you blink rapidly to get a grip on reality before telling Satoru that you aren’t in the mood for coffee. He squeezes your hand with a smile before leaving you.

The sight of Suguru pressing his hands to his eyes has you right back in that trance, chest rising and falling rapidly as you feel his pain. You sit beside him, trying to give him a smile of confidence, but your eyes betray your worry. He returns your smile with a half smile of his own, but his pretty eyes swam with tears, head lowered, bangs hiding his face. You put your hands on his interlaced ones resting on his lap, rubbing small circles on the back of his hand with your thumb. You cannot stand seeing him in such pain, ready to do anything to make him go back to the guy you had met in Thailand, cocky confidence rubbing off on you. You don’t say anything, holding his teary gaze. He gives you another half smile at your comforting touch, and your eyes soften - you have the sudden inexplicable urge to hold him, let him melt into your embrace and cry his eyes out into your chest as you stand between him and this cruel world, caressing his back and kissing the top of his head. His smile falls, and the intensity of his pretty eyes has you rethinking everything, chest rising and falling rapidly as he lets your smaller hand fall between his two large hands, squeezing it.

When Dadi wakes up for a bit, Suguru takes you to see her, and you greet her softly then excuse yourself, giving them some space. You watch from outside the room as he speaks to Dadi, his back to her, shaking from holding back his cries. Dadi says something and he turns to her, holding her hand and breaking down crying, lying beside her as she weakly comforts her sobbing grandson. You’ve started crying with him, wiping your tears only to have them fall out immediately after.

The only good thing to come out of it was the fact that Suguru was with his Dadi when she passed peacefully in her sleep, surrounded by her family.

Suguru had become withdrawn after Dadi, not saying anything, keeping to himself. He barely even spoke to Satoru, and the others didn’t even see him outside of mandatory classes. Even in the classes, the ever active and teacher’s favourite Suguru had stopped answering, zoned out in most classes he attended.

Suguru is in his dorm, putting away his dirty laundry when you walk in the open door, hands held together in front of you. “Satoru’s dorm is a little further ahead,” He says, barely even looking at you.

“I’m here to see you,” You say, voice shaking.

He stills for a moment, his expression bitter. “To give me your condolences?” He forces a smile. “Thank you,”

“Satoru was saying that you don’t want to see anyone,” You start, inhaling a deep breath to keep your voice steady. You step closer to him and his desk as he grabs a book without any particular reason. “Staying alone like this-”

“I have to make a habit of staying alone,” He snaps, voice breaking at the end. It breaks your heart, tears welling in your eyes at his throaty voice. “Everyone who was close to me is gone.” He composed himself a little, adding, “You should stay away, or you’ll die too.”

“You need a friend-” you softly say, your body pulsing with your frantic heart.

“We can’t be friends!” He suddenly raises his voice, and you have to blink back the tears of frustration. You don’t know why his words cut so deeply, you’ve never cared this much about other people - not like you care about Suguru. “You want to be friends with me?” He looks at you for a moment, inhaling a composing breath. “Thank you,” he says in a small voice.

You’re staring at him by standing by his desk, back to you trying not to think about why it was affecting you so much, finding any other thing to make him talk. His pretty hair is messy and unkempt, and you want to take care of him, treat him to all the good things in life. That is when you spot your jhumki - sitting right on his desk at the edge of a mug. You remember that jhumki, the one you had been struggling to put on back in Thailand, and the way that Suguru had touched your hair to hide the missing earring. You remember his touch, his gaze, and how he had agreed to help you save your relationship.

You grab it from his desk, feeling a grin curve your lips. “Please leave,” Suguru says, seeing you around his desk. “I told you I don’t want to see anyone,”

“But Sugu, this jhumki won’t look good on you,” You teasingly say, maintaining an air of innocent confusion. “Not without it’s complete pair,”

Suguru has a pretty smile on his face, one that you are delighted to be the reason for. You purse your lips, looking at his pretty face and messy hair, taking little steps closer to him and finally hugging him like you’ve wished you could for a long time. Much to your delight, he hugs you back, head resting on your shoulder sniffling to hold himself back from crying.

Suguru is the one to pull back from the hug, pushing out the hair that has fallen to your face as you longingly look up at him, his gentle touch making you lose your mind. His large hands fall to your neck, thumb behind your ear as your eyes flit down to his pretty, worried lips then back to his eyes, the delicate touch of his thumb tickling you in just the right way. Heavy breaths fill the little space between you two, leaning closer with your eyes closed until your lips brush against his.

Your hands on his back pull him closer, and one of his hands goes behind your head while the other goes down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as your lips move against each other. The familiarity of his touch has your mind short circuiting - his kiss brings a calm security instead of the anxious butterflies, the movement of your lips and tongues filled with such desperate longing - a longing for affection and love rather than lust, the gentle kiss of a lover, worshipping, all consuming and caring. You’ve never been kissed like this before, like you are a prayer, like he is afraid that you’ll disappear as soon as he opens his eyes. It was wrong what you were doing, but then why did it feel so good? So right?

When he pulls back, you want him to kiss you more - you can see it in the sad gleam of his eyes that he doesn’t want to let you go either. His pupils dilated and brows relaxed, it’s a rare sight, and it’s a sight that you’ll never forget.

There’s a shuffling sound behind you - heads turn to the room's door only to find a distraught Satoru - hands fall to your side at the sight of Satoru’s big blue eyes filled with tears, you chase after him as he storms away without a word and you begin to chase after him, calling out his name.

“Satoru, I’m sorry! Listen to me!” You plead.

“Just leave me alone,” He says, throwing his bag. Satoru is out by the common area and there’s a swarm of students surrounding you three at the noise.

“Satoru, please!” You plead, reaching out to him with your hands raised.

“Just leave me alone and don’t touch me,” He yells. Kicking down a random stack of chairs.

“Just listen to me, please!” You plead, your voice breaking. You manage to grab his shoulders, but he is quick to push you off, face red and eyes glowering with anger. “Just leave me alone, I said!” He yells, louder this time. Suguru is quick to intervene, only to be pushed away by Satoru. It’s turning into a brawl and you hate it, you hate it so much. You hate your stupid heart, you hate yourself for not listening to Suguru and staying away from him like he asked you too. Your heart aches seeing the sheer heartbreak on Satoru’s face, his usually bright, humorous eyes filled with rage and betrayal and you despise that you’re the cause of it.

“You keep your mouth shut!” Satoru yells, somehow sounding even angrier at Suguru. “You have no class, no civility! I should never have talked to poor people like yourself. I am - was - your best friend, and you’re there kissing my girlfriend?! You are no one’s person!” He is pushing Suguru harder with each word, and Suguru accepts it, not even trying to fight back. He too has tears pooling in his eyes, messy hair falling to his face. “This is why you have no one to call your home.” Satoru’s welled eyes have turned red with rage, and with each shove his anger only seems to grow. “Everyone is dead! You mom, dad, and now Dadi-”

That is what snaps Suguru, the mention of Dadi and he punches Satoru with such force that his best friend nearly falls down. Suguru picks him up, only to punch him in the face again. “If you say anything regarding my mom and dad, I will break your face,” He snaps, voice colder than ice. “You aren’t even your mom-dad’s person, how can you even be my best friend? All this talk about class and status, what do you do? All you do is use your dad’s influence and money.”

“Dad’s money is all that you’re after right?” Satoru doubles down in his vicious words. “That’s why you befriended me, right? You wanted to have a life like me - and now you’re also stealing my girlfriend?!”

“What’s this girlfriend-boyfriend thing, huh?” Suguru doubles down as well, high from the anger coursing through his veins. “She never loved you, and you-? You’ve been out there everywhere putting your face on every other girl you see. You’re calling this a relationship? You have no right to call her your girlfriend!”

“You’re no one to tell me of my rights,” Satoru yells, holding Suguru’s t-shirt’s collar, ready to throw another punch. “She is mine, mine only!”

“Why don’t you ask her whose she is?” Suguru challenges. “She loves me, and I love her!”

They’ve started throwing punches everywhere, the whole school watching their brawl unfold. Satoru hits, Suguru punches, it’s a mess - a mess that you cannot stand, for reasons you aren’t ready to accept yourself. You walk up to them, tears glistening in your eyes and yell at them to stop. They do, but the air is still thick with tension as you speak, “What do you even know about me? About my feelings?” You speak to the both of them, voice breaking. “Nothing! And the sad part is, you aren’t even willing to listen! You just want to win me - I am not a part of any competition. I am not a prize. I am done with this whole thing.”

Suguru looks upset, ashamed of himself, but Satoru only looks angry - and you don’t know what pains you more. You rush away, before anyone in the gathering crowd as a chance to stop you and hide in your dorm.

Satoru’s anger doesn’t subside even as he reaches home. Even as his mother shows concern for the bruises on his face, he only pushes her off, not in the mood to see anyone. If his mood wasn’t already so bad, it got worse as his father came up to stop him, demanding that he treat his mother with respect.

“Look at yourself!” Isamu Gojo scolds with a yell. “You look like a street thug! Who did you even fight? Answer me.”

“I don’t want to answer anyone,” Satoru says, meeting his dads angry gaze.

“You have to, you’re living under my roof,” Isamu snaps. “I’ve tolerated your misdemeanour for so long. You can’t behave properly at home, at least mind your family’s image outside of the house.”

“You’ve not made any good image, Dad,” Satoru finally says, swallowing the angry lump in his throat. “The only thing you’ve made is money.”

“That’s the money funding your life, you know?!” Isamu yells, eyes wide in anger. “You only know two things - having fun and making a fool out of me,”

“What are you ashamed of, hm?” Satoru asks, lips wobbling as he speaks. “That I don’t want to be an industrialist? That I want to be a musician?”

“Yes! I’m ashamed that my son has such middle-class dreams!” Isamu yells back.

“Dreams don’t have any class,” Satoru says, blinking away his tears. “But only a dad would get that, not a twisted man.” Isamu slaps him, and Satoru’s voice finally breaks as he says, “I have no wish to live in your house, and I don’t want to be your son,”

“You’ve lost the privilege of being my son,” Isamu says, an angry frown on his face.

“When was I ever your son?” Satoru asks, then turns around to leave. His mother tries to stop him, but he pushes her off once again, vowing to himself to never turn back, to never step foot in any of his father’s properties again and to never take a penny from this man.

He is filled with a new determination to win the Student of the Year trophy - to prove everyone and himself that he wasn’t useless, that he was more than Mr. Gojo’s money made him. His goal had now shifted from winning the trophy to defeating everyone else - particularly Suguru.

The second last stage of the competition - the prom where everyone needs to bring a date - is close and everyone’s preparations are in full swing. The campus gym is occupied and people are busy finding dates and practising their steps, for no one ever wants to lose after coming this close.

Satoru has become a loner, avoiding even Haibara during lunch hour. Suguru too is back to his quiet self, speaking only when he deems it to be necessary. You… Well, you’ve had the worst burnt of their fight somehow - utterly messed up with your own emotions - your mind says one thing but your heart craves another, you’re avoiding everyone like they are the plague.

Shoko finds you sitting all alone, eyes distant. “Hey, what’s up?” She asks, sitting beside you. “Who are you going to prom with? Satoru or Suguru?”

“It’s not funny, Shoko,” you say with a frown. “The whole school is gossiping about me now,”

“Ignore the gossip,” Shoko says, voice serious. “Tell me about your feelings,”

“I don’t even want to think about them!” You’re exasperated, torn by your own moralities and desires.

“You love Suguru,” Shoko sternly says, trying to talk sense into you.

“Shoko, Satoru and I-”

“What about it?” She stops you. “There was nothing there - you were angry and miserable for most of the time. It was not a match made in heaven, rather a match made in your elite circles.” Her concern is genuine. “I know you’re confused right now, and you’re allowed to be confused. You should take some time. Your heart will answer for you.”

“There’s this competition right in the middle of everything,” You sigh.

“Then leave it,” Shoko suddenly says, an idea forming in her pretty head. You turn your head to her, eyes wide. “This stupid competition is not more important than your feelings, right?”

You discreetly scrutinise her fidgety behaviour and say, “You’re right, I won’t take a part in this competition. Disqualifying isn’t that bad,” you turn to her just as she suppresses her smile. “What do you think?”

“I’d have done the same thing, if I were you.” Shoko says, squeezing your shoulder in support.

The next evening, Shoko jogs up to Haibara after her gym session, saying, “Haibara, I’ve decided that I will be your date to prom this year,”

“You aren’t going to be my date,” He says, voice sassy. “You’re late.” He sounds thrilled saying your name, “She has already asked me to be her date.”

Shoko storms into your shared room and sees you checking yourself out in the mirror, seeing which dress looks pretty on you. You barely pay any attention to her as she angrily stomps her feet.

“Are you seriously going to prom with Haibara?” She practically spits out.

“Yeah, I am,” You say, feigning innocence. “I suddenly thought, why should I even let Satoru or Suguru influence my life?”

“And why did you think of that so suddenly?” She asks, voice bitter.

“Shouldn’t you be happy?” You say, frowning a little. “I don’t get this reaction,”

“What do you mean?” Shoko says, her breaths suddenly heavy with the way you’ve caught her little scheme.

“You know exactly what I mean, Shoko,” You say. “But I am not giving up on prom just to reduce your competition,” You look her up and down once, adding, “Because, lets face it, you and dance is like me and poor,”

Shoko rapidly blinks, then says, “You’re so disgusting,” she turns to leave. “I don’t even want to talk to you,”

You pat her shoulder, and bat your eyelashes, “I’d have done the same thing, if I were you.” echoing her words back to her.

Shoko leaves your room, walking to put as much distance as she can between the two of you. In the basketball court, she sees Suguru, alone and begins rambling about your confused state under her breath, pretending that she didn’t see him.

“Shoko, are you okay?” He stops her and asks once she is close to him.

“No, I’m not okay. I’ve just fought with her.” Shoko says, not hiding her anger. “She is such a drama queen I’m so tired of her!”

“Why what happened?” He asks, thin brows creased with concern.

“She says she’s confused between you and Satoru,” She says, and Suguru instantly turns to the ball in his hands, avoiding her angry brown eyes. “But she is going to prom with Haibara, so Satoru gets jealous. Then there’s no confusion, right?”

“Right,” Suguru hesitates, turning to the basket instead, his bangs hiding his heartbreak.

“Anyways, I don’t want to be in the middle of all of this,” She says, brown eyes gleaming with excitement, seeing the effect of her words on Suguru. “I’ll speak to you later, okay?” She walks away, praying that her little scheme works.

“Shoko,” He calls after her, and her heart does a little dance at her plan working out. “Who are you going to prom with?”

“No one,” She says in a small voice, her lips pulled down in a frown.

“Haibara, please help me find a date to prom,” Nanami asks, sitting on the edge of his friend’s bed. “There’s no one willing to go with me,”

“I love you Nanami,” Haibara says, sitting up with his hand on the blond’s shoulder. “But I cannot go to prom with you,”

“I don’t want to go to prom with you, I want you to help me find a date to the prom, man,” Nanami says.

“Nanami, leave,” Satoru says, storming into Haibara’s room. Nanami grumbles under his breath but leaves the two alone. “Haibara, you’re taking her to prom?! Who do you even think you are?”

“I’m Haibara,” He says, frowning.

“Did a rabid dog bite you or something?” the white haired man shakes his head, irked. “Are you crazy? You go, you go and tell her that you can’t be her date to prom.”

“Hey! Stop it,” Haibara yells. “I don’t need your permission to do things in my life. I’m not your servant.”

Satoru chuckles, shaking his head. It’s demeaning. “What about all that time you spent on my credit card, hm?”

Something breaks in the brunet’s heart at the mention, so he says, “But i’ve also given you full service for that time,” He has a rare, angry frown on his face. “Haibara, park the car, Haibara, bring me a drink. Haibara, can you take her to the mall for me, please? Can you bring her an apology card? Now Haibara is taking her to prom as his date, arm in arm and you can’t do anything about it.”

“You too are showing your class,” Satoru says through gritted teeth.

“You are no one to talk about class, Satoru.” Haibara taunts. “The only thing you have is daddy’s money, and now you don’t even have that,”

“Satoru, don’t be so upset now,” Tanya says, running her hands over his chest by the swimming pool. She undoes her robe, pressing herself against his chest, saying, “If you want… I could be your date,”

(the disco song)

The much anticipated prom night and dance competition is now here - eliminating four out of the twelve competitors - only 8 finalists and one winner of the trophy. Suguru-Shoko, Satoru-Tanya, Haibara-You, Nanami-Ichiji and the rest of the participants stand in the front, arm in arm with their dates in front of the judges with Dean Yaga introducing you to the two women. The tension in the air is thick and palpable, with everyone waiting to see who will snap first under the pressure. It was dance or disqualification, and everyone wanted to eliminate their competition.

Suguru and Shoko sneak a glance at you - Shoko with a proud smile and Suguru with a distant longing, and you feel yourself tearing up seeing your friend in his arms, by his side. You turn your head, happening to meet Satoru’s gaze. He has Tanya on his arm - the sight of it making your blood boil. You feel indifference, the discontent in your heart at the sight of Shoko and Suguru evaporating with the anger. You are there to win.

The music plays and the competitors start with their opening steps. You’re half jealous of the way Suguru and Shoko move together so gracefully, painfully reminded of that time in Thailand that you had danced with him. Satoru and Tanya have bolder dance moves, the bitter memories of the past year feeding into your determination to move to the next round.

You dance with Haibara, it’s not as natural as it had been with Suguru, but you will have to do it. You’re both there to prove a point.

The solo dancing has you moving more gracefully, and you hope that the judges give you some extra points for the performance you put up. Suguru and Satoru perform their own well practised sequence with the music - you don’t feel much looking at them now, without their dates.

The competitors dance with the beats of the music, Suguru twirling a rarely graceful Shoko in his arms and Satoru spinning with Tanya in his arms. Haibara has you in his arms in a dance similar to waltz, and you put on your best smile for the judges. For a moment, in your head, you are with Suguru - with him easily manoeuvring you around, your steps perfectly in sync and your smile turns more genuine.

The music shifts and your partners change, you land into Satoru’s arms, looking right into his mellowed blue eyes so full of repentance and regret. You cannot stand to look at him, all the nights that you’ve stayed up crying at his antics flooding your memories as you turn away from him. The familiarity of his chest against your back and his breaths on your neck as you cringing. You thank the heavens as the music shifts again - Satoru spins you around and stomps away from you in anger, the memory of you kissing his best friend too fresh a wound.

The heavens tease you with kindness, turning cruel as you end up in Suguru’s arms, unable to look away from his pretty purple eyes, his hair smooth against your hand on his chest. It’s too much - the memory of his gentle touch, his easy smile, the warmth of his lips against yours, the sight of your best friend with him. Oh you want to embrace him so bad it makes you want to cry. This competition is a cruel joke - destroying your relationships and playing with your delicate heart like some child’s toy. You cannot bring yourself to look away from his eyes, so soft and gentle as he steadily holds your gaze with moist eyes even as you step back and move away from him, hands moving from his chest to your sides and you leave the stage, barely holding back your tears.

Satoru has been eyeing you, his heart breaking into a million pieces as a cold acceptance replaces the warmth of his affections for you. He now knows - it was too obvious, you never looked at him like you looked at Suguru just then. The acceptance is what he needs as he resumes with this solo dance, determined to snatch that trophy away from Suguru.

Suguru blinks away the tears the sight of yours brought, and he has to physically restrain himself from running after you. You need space, he thinks, before remembering the trophy that had started all of this in the first place, restarting his solo dance as he loses sight of you, the determination to win that trophy dulling.

Satoru, Shoko, Suguru and Haibara are four of the eight from the now-split gang that make into the finalists, ready for the final stage of the competition - the triathlon which begins with swimming, then cycling and ends with track.

Suguru sees Dean Yaga with Mr. Gojo one afternoon, only greeting Yaga with a good afternoon.

“Hi Suguru,” Mr Gojo shakes his hand with a bright smile. “How are you?”

Yaga beats Suguru to it, beaming with pride, “By the way, Suguru and Rohan are both in the top 8. It’s gonna be a tough battle, Isamu, not easy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Isamu says, shaking his head.

“Well, you will say that,” Yaga says with a smile. “Satoru is your son, after all.”

“That’s why I’m saying this,” There’s something in Isamu’s voice that ticks Suguru off in the wrong way. “Suguru will win, my money is on you.” Isamu pats his shoulder, then says. “Good luck,”

The whole time, the top 8 finalists spend their time training for the triathlon - timing their swimming, working out their legs and spending time on the cycle. It's an intense couple of days, with much tension but no drama.

On the day of the triathlon, you sit in the bleachers by the swimming pool, watching your friends stretch and get ready before the swimming starts. Satoru’s eyes are determined and challenging Suguru, whose face hides his internal conflicts. Somehow, his eyes find yours in the buzzing crowd, and you give him a small smile, which he returns before putting his goggles on and getting ready to dive.

It’s Shoko with her slim body and fast reflexes that finishes the swim first, and quickly gets out and puts on her shoes before running out to the cycles. Haibara is next, followed by Suguru ahead of Satoru by a fraction of a second. Once out of the surveillance area, the brunet is quick to catch up to Shoko and push her off track and into the grass, promptly disqualifying her.

Satoru, fueled by rage, powers up and puts everyone behind on the cycling path, with Suguru close behind him, his internal battle now in favour of winning the trophy. Satoru is the first one to enter the race track, followed by Suguru. There’s a distance of more than 10 metres between them when Suguru starts running. Satoru runs on red rage while Suguru has the skills of the track, easily catching up the distance. Ultimately, the battle for the trophy is between the two of them and no one else.

The last few seconds are intense, Suguru has caught up on the distance, and the both run parallelly now, in the bleachers, Isamu Gojo is cheering for his son’s defeat, while his mother looks concerned. For a moment, Suguru has overtaken Satoru, everyone is sure of his victory, when Suguru slows down a bit and adrenaline pushes Satoru. The smile on Isamu’s face fades as the chances of his son winning increase. Suguru’s eyes close for a moment, and Satoru becomes the first one to push the ribbon, by a mere hundredth of a second. He’s unsure of his win, but the angry frown on Suguru’s pretty face has him accepting it.

The crowd breaks out in cheers, celebrating Satoru’s win.

Later in the evening, after everyone has changed into formals and put on the Saint Teresa blazers, they assemble in the hall, waiting for Dean Yaga to finally hand the trophy to Satoru Gojo. Nanami isn’t himself, having spent the entire week disappointed in himself and Yaga - for making this competition unfair and breaking apart his friend group.

“Boys and Girls, I’m delighted to call on the stage,” Dean Yaga’s awfully cheerful voice cuts through everyone’s ears. “The Student of the Year, Satoru Gojo!” Satoru smiles at his mother’s delight for his victory, and goes up to the stage as the crowd cheers for him. “Congratulations, many congratulations,” Yaga says as he hugs his student. “I’m so proud of you, my boy. All yours.”

“Thank you,” Satoru says, voice more serious than usual. “Each student of Saint Teresa wants to win the title of the Student of the Year. In 25 years, there have been many successful students who won this trophy,” he pauses for a moment. Satoru’s pale nose is unusually pink, as if he has spent his time crying. “I don’t want to insult anyone - but I cannot accept this trophy.” He explains, “I have my reasons, reasons that I have no wish to explain.”

The hall falls into a stunned, confused silence. You, Shoko, Haibara are all confused - he wanted to win that trophy so badly, then why was he suddenly refusing to accept it? What even happened? He walks down the stage, stopping in front of his father for a second, a smirk on his face and shaking his head at the sombre old man, then walks away.

Suddenly, Nanami loudly claps his hands in the crowd, drawing everyone’s attention and making Satoru stop in his tracks. He gets up from his place and continues clapping. “Well done, Satoru, well done!” he says, his appearance dishevelled. “Good for you! Good for you!” he turns to the crowd, “Hey! Why aren’t you all clapping now, when you should?” He takes the hand of a student and claps his hands together. “Clap your hands!”

“Nanami! Behave yourself,” Yaga scolds from above the stage. “Are you drunk? The school will not tolerate this behaviour!”

“School?” Nanami chuckles with irony. “You know what Dean, to hell with this school, and to hell with you!”

“Nanami!” Coach gets up from his place, angry at his behaviour. Suguru gets up and tries to take Nanami away, but the blond stops him.

“This Student of the Year trophy was your idea, right?” Nanami turns to Yaga, clicking his fingers. “Then you should get the award.” He pretends to pick up an award from Suguru’s empty chair. “Here is your award for the most stupid idea!”

“All because you didn’t win?” Yaga’s voice is condescending. “Look at yourself Nanami, what were the chances?”

“Yes, I lost.” Nanami admits. “But why did I lose?” he’s raising his hand, pointing his finger to Yaga. “Because of you and your stupid rules. Guys and girls will run together, a date is mandatory for the prom,” he comically dances in his drunk anger, saying in a sing-song voice, “dance to win the trophy,” he turns back to Yaga with a chuckle. “But who cares, who cares if this idiot can’t dance? And who cares that people like us,” his finger goes back and forth between himself and Yaga. “Who cares that people like us can find a partner? You should’ve known that,” his tone is accusatory and he’s beginning to cry.

Your heart cries in sympathy, while Satoru and Suguru inch closer to him, trying to get him to stop. “Let me speak, this stupid drama has been going on for 25 years now,” Nanami challenges. “Why? Because Dean Masamichi Yaga has no entertainment in his own life. He’s alone, and he wants to break all our friendships too. You know what, you are a jealous, lonely and very unhappy man!”

Yaga’s face has reddened and his eyes welled up behind his signature glasses. He’s stunned into silence, but Nanami continues, “Congratulations, sir! Your final episode is a complete hit! You ended two years of friendships within two weeks.” His voice only gets louder. “We all hate each other!” He raises his hand in a military salute. “For that, I wanna salute you, Dean Masamichi Yaga!”

He drops the navy Saint Teresa blazer at the Dean’s feet and stomps away, pushing Satoru and Suguru on his way out.

Ten years later

Nanami’s phone rings in the middle of the night, who answers, grumpy. “Hello,” the voice on the other line says something. “There’s no Ichiji here… OH! Ichiji!” He wakes up as realisation hits him. “Hi! How are you? What? Okay, I’ll come to Dehradun as soon as I can. Yeah, no worries I’ll find them on instagram.”

Now in Dehradun, Nanami, Haibara, Shoko and Tanya recall their time back in Saint Teresa from a decade ago, when Satoru enters the hospital. He’s changed completely - a black blindfold instead of his round sunglasses make up his performer personna - the rockstar Satoru Gojo. Although, he’s ditched his blindfold in favour of square glasses.

Tanya, just wrapping up her divorce with her fourth husband, is awfully delighted to see Satoru. He hugs Shoko, saying, “You’re looking like a girl now,” gesturing to her long brown hair.

Shoko shakes her head, saying, “I’m a doctor and a mother now. You’re a great person too now,”

“The consequence of leaving my father behind,” He jokes.

“I’m so proud of you,” He says. Satoru spots Haibara, and envelopes in a bear hug, the anger from a decade back forgotten. “Haibara, how are you doing?” He playfully punches Nanami on the shoulder. “How are you, man?”

“What did the doctors say?” He asks, enquiring about Yaga’s condition. Just then, their old coach comes in, complementing his intense, rockstar appearance. Satoru has piercings on his left ear now. He hugs Ichiji, now the new coach at Saint Teresa, walking with him to see the critically sick Yaga.

Suguru gets out of his white Mercedes sedan, dressed in a navy trench coat with a grey sweater vest underneath and a striped scarf warming his neck. His hair has grown out in the last 10 years, long straight hair falling down till his waist. Half of it is tied in an updo. He hasn’t changed as dramatically as Satoru, but he has grown a lot more confident and assertive.

He gets to the other side of the sedan, opening the door to offer you his hand, never wanting to let you open any doors since the two of you got together. You’ve been married for three years now, and you’re the happiest when with him. The only wish you have is that you could turn back time and have things go a little differently than they have, maybe everything would be even better, then.

Getting off the elevator, the first person you see is Shoko, who smiles sweetly at the two of you. Suguru gives her a side hug, greeting her kindly. He then leaves the two of you, knowing there are things left unresolved.

“Hey, Haibara,” Suguru says, deliberately not greeting Satoru right beside him. The long haired man with delicate features instead goes to greet Nanami and Tanya, seeing them after a long time.

“It's been a long time,” Shoko softly says, brown eyes apologising more sincerely than any words ever could.

“Yeah,” You raise your arms, hugging her. Pulling back, you shake your head with a smile. “I hoped you might call after having your baby… Such ego,”

“It wasn’t ego, it was shame,” Shoko admits.

“It’s all in the past now, forget it,” You say.

“What was even the point of doing all that?” She repents. “I’m still a normal person,”

“Let’s leave all of that,” You say, shaking your head. “Show me the pictures of your baby now,” Shoko smiles brightly at you and shows you the pictures of her little baby girl. “What’s Tanya up to, these days?” you quietly ask her.

“Looking for a new husband,” She whispers to you. “I’d advice to keep Suguru away from her,”

“I trust him,” You say, dismissing her concerns and she gives you a knowing smile. “I'll have to keep him away from someone else though,” you turn to Satoru.

“Hmm,” Shoko still has that teasing smile. “It’s a hospital, wrecking it won’t leave a good impression,”

“Exactly,” you say. “I’ll be right back,”

You walk up to Satoru and Haibara, greeting them both. Haibara leaves quickly, giving the two of you some space. You haven't spoken to Satoru since that day when everything went wrong. But you hug him for a short moment. He had been an important person in your life, afterall.

“You didn’t even invite me to your wedding,” Satoru playfully complains. “I would’ve been there from the bride’s side. I have that much right, don’t I?”

“Shut up, Satoru,” you tease him back. “What’s with that intense look?” you ask, gesturing to his all black appearance and piercings.

“A musician’s appearance must reflect his pain,” He explains. “Otherwise the music doesn’t sell, you know?”

“I’ve listened to your music, you know.” You admit. “Your latest album is amazing,”

“Does he let you listen to my music?” He asks, nodding to Suguru.

“He secretly listens to it himself,” You chuckle. “But he won’t admit that. Come meet Sugu now, come on.”

“Na-ahn,” Satoru shakes his head. “You married him and are showing your authority over me. That's not how it works,”

Suguru’s outside, texting on his phone when you find him. “It’s been ten years now, Sugu,” you try to reason with him. He pockets his phone with a sigh at your words. “What’s to lose by saying a little hello?”

“He shrieks in his songs, he can come say hello too,” Suguru counters with his soft voice.

“You’re an investment banker Sugu, not a child,” You try to convince him, placing your hand on his arm.

“And you’re my wife, darling,” He says, his eyes kind as he looks down at you. “Not your ex boyfriend’s lawyer.”

“Ex boyfriend’s lawyer, where did that come from?” You say, brows creased and nose scrunched up.

“I saw you hug him,” He counters, making you sigh. “Feeling affectionate?”

“That’s disgusting Sugu, come on,” you drawl.

“What else were you expecting?” Satoru’s taunting voice suddenly interrupts you. “He has billions in his bank but the class of a penny,”

“What did you do with your high class, huh?” Suguru snaps back, but his voice is still a model of serene calm. “You’re playing that guitar like a courtesan in front of an audience,”

“But I give great hugs,” Satoru says, turning to you with a raised brow. “Right?”

That breaks Suguru’s calm facade. He menacingly steps between you and Satoru asserting, “Bastard, mind your mouth. You’re speaking to my wife.”

“She was my girlfriend that day when you kissed her,” Satoru angrily snaps, pushing him back. Suguru punches his face, the martial arts expertise not left too behind with his stock market capabilities. Their fist-fight out in the hospital’s garden has your friends gathering, with Nanami and Haibara rushing to pull them apart at your request, only for Shoko to stop them.

“Don’t,” She says. “It’s an anger of ten years, let them get it out.”

A moment later, Suguru has Satoru's face bruised and pinned to the ground, yelling right in his face, “Why are you so angry, Satoru? It’s not just because of my darling wife,” Satoru’s red face is an angry grimace, wincing in pain. “You didn’t even love her. Then why this anger?!”

Satoru pushes Suguru off himself, standing up and pointing his finger to him accusatory. “You deliberately let yourself lose that day!” He yells, white hair flying in all directions. His mind flashes back to the triathlon from ten years ago. “Why did you do that?” He pushes Suguru, emphasising his point. “Why?!”

“Because your father was a nasty, twisted man!” Suguru answers with a yell. “He was rejoicing seeing you lose, he was wishing me luck to defeat you.” Suguru confesses, retying his messed up hair. “I wanted to be like your father, but even I couldn’t be this twisted. I thought,” Satoru’s blue eyes have lost all that electric rage, leaving behind teared up eyes on realisation. “In that moment, I realised that I could defeat the most powerful man of the country by making you win,” He inhales a deep breath before continuing. “My dad was dead, Satoru, but yours wasn’t a dad either.”

“I dealt with my dad when I left him and his name,” Satoru says, his shove gentle now. “I didn’t need your nobility,”

Suguru shakes his hand, chuckling at his ironic statement. “Nobility, wow!” He incredulously says. “What about that drama you pulled off on the stage? Huh? What the hell was that?” Suguru’s brow is creased and he’s poking at Satoru’s chest, speaking through gritted teeth. “If you knew everything that day, why didn’t you say anything in front of everyone? In front of you dad?” He answers his question himself, “Because you wanted to show to your father that you actually won,”

Satoru throws a punch at that, and Suguru returns a harder one, busting his lip. “Don’t hit my face so hard!” Satoru complains, holding his large hand against his busted lip.

“Bloody loser,” Suguru mumbles under his breath, wiping the blood on his knuckle and feeling his bruised cheekbone.

“Hey! Who are you calling a loser?” Satoru gets defensive. It’s a true comedy - how fast their fight boiled over and turned childish. “All last five of my albums have been platinum hits,”

“So what?” Suguru competes as well. “My banking business has a turnover of 500 million,”

“International music labels chase me!” Satoru claims. (it's the truth)

“Companies beg me for mergers,” Suguru claims (also the truth)

“When I perform, Wembley shakes,” Satoru yells.

“One snap of my fingers shakes the stock market,” Suguru claims.

“I’ve been with a hundred women-” Satoru says, forgetting himself in the heat of the moment.

“And I have my darling wife-” Suguru says, not hearing Satoru. “Wait what? A hundred, really?” He asks in his calm voice with his brows raised, eyeing him.

“Yeah, plus or minus ten,” Satoru has calmed down as well, but he is terribly embarrassed at his admission.

“Plus or minus?” Suguru asks.

“Probably minus,” Satoru admits.

They both burst out laughing - it starts with a smile, going to a chuckle then a full blown laughter. “You haven’t changed a bit, you bastard.” Suguru decides.

Quieting down for a moment, they assess the damage, when Satoru slowly turns to his friend. “Are you about to kiss me right now?” Suguru teases.

“I won’t even hug you, motherfucker,” Satoru says as they hug.

Dean Yaga dies with people he cared about surrounding him, happy to see that Suguru and Satoru have rekindled their friendship. Their broken bond weighed heavy on his heart, and he passed peacefully on seeing his old students back together. Satoru and Suguru are back at Saint Teresa’s campus, this time as alumni - there to show students to follow their hearts and maintain their friendships instead of seeing them as competition.

A/N: it took me nearly two weeks to complete and the last 7k words i wrote in one sitting, my hands were numb but we finished it and i've proofread it once (please ignore any errors) special shoutout to my desi girlies here, we've all wanted to be shanaya at one point lmao. I hope ya'll enjoyed it because it was fun writing this hehe. Also the reason I have Satoru or Suguru first is because here in india we address each other by first names for the most part

#gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #satosugu x reader #stsg x reader #stsg soty au #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader

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