#Ii live this universe so much

[yewstronaut]

stayed up all night reading The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett, no regrets

[satoruxx]

ANGEL ON MY SHOULDER.

✧ PAIRING: gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader (hinted) | 5k words

✧ SUMMARY: ghost!reader, major character death, jjk manga spoilers, so much angst bc you literally die lmao, longing, mutual pining, suppressed feelings, everyone sucks at love, some fluff, banter, might be slightly suggestive, lots of hinted feelings (read: suguru), arguments, overall this is painful so read if you enjoy angst !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: this idea randomly came to me before i went to bed a few days ago and in the spirit of halloween, i figured why not? i live off of angst and need to share the pain with everyone lmao oops. this is late for halloween tho my bad !!

i. 2007

satoru brings one more flower than he did the day before. morning glories again, of course, but an extra one. he had added one more to the the bunch every day since the day you died. the first day, he brought three, wrapped with a cheap blue ribbon that he found in his desk drawer. it was hardly a respectable bouquet, but those three flowers were the ones he'd grown for you, so it only seemed fitting.

he didn't care much for gardening. but one day you asked shoko what her favorite flowers were so you could give her some on valentine's day. she asked you what yours were so she could return the favor.

satoru never forgot morning glories after that day.

he's not even sure if morning glories are appropriate to bring to a grave, but he knows you'd like them.

you would tell him it didn't matter anyway.

ii. 2007

(suguru did not cry when you died. satoru watched, intently, because there was nothing in the universe that his six eyes couldn't catch. he waited for it, even a sliver of emotion that would betray suguru's bleeding heart, but he gave nothing. he just stood in front of the stone that marked the end of your life with a deep stare. something had settled there in his eyes, cold and resolute.

a few months before you died, you had told satoru that there was something wrong with suguru. you said that he'd been distant, somewhere far away, and you worried for him. you always did, so open with your affection for him.

"don't want him to get lost." you had hummed, your shoulder brushing against satoru's as you raise the mango ice pop he brought you to your mouth. satoru watches your lips out of the corner of his eyes, his stomach flipping eagerly even as he keeps his face impassive.

"he said it was just the summer heat," he answers, ignoring the sweet mango juice dripping down his knuckles. "should be nothing."

you don't look all that convinced, turning your head to look up at him with meaningful glance. "you sure?"

he stares at you for a lengthy second, cerulean eyes darting over your facial features, before he reaches up and knocks his knuckle against your forehead. "yeah. he'll be fine." he assures, and your shoulders relax as you continue to eat the ice pop.

you were right about it all. four days after you die, suguru massacres an entire village.)

iii. 2008

satoru shifts in his bed, grunting quietly he begins to stretch his stiff joints. his eyes crack open, still heavy with sleep as he waits for his dark ceiling to come into focus. except it doesn't, because all he can see are a pair of very familiar looking eyes. unsaturated, but still so obviously the color he once knew. his own eyes snap open, all traces of sleep gone as he finally makes out someone who looks exactly like you, perched on his stomach with a confused and slightly panicked expression.

he shoots up, and you pull back a little. it looks like you're on his lap, and yet he can't feel you on him at all. he gulps.

"hey toru." you say quietly, and his stomach drops. the same eyes, the same voice. gods above.

"you're dead," he says simply, trying not to betray the way his pulse is jumping at even the smallest glimpse of you again. "you're not real."

"i'm dead," you confirm, nodding your head as you look down at your translucent palms. "but i'm here somehow."

he sucks in a breath, reaching out a hand as if to touch you. the disappointment he feels when it passes through your form is sickening.

you smile shakily, shrugging your shoulders as you attempt to make light of the situation.

"guess i couldn't stay away."

he stares at you for minutes without saying a word and you stare back, equally silent.

iv. 2007

(nanami had carried your body back, his teeth gritted as his blonde hair fell over his eyes. satoru never brought it up, but he knew that nanami remained bothered by it for the rest of his life. your death was bad timing, especially after they had just lost haibara a few weeks prior.

nanami had no reason to blame himself though. if anything, it was satoru's fault you were gone.

shoko had called him from the infirmary, her voice hard and pinched as she spat out three words: "get down here."

when satoru saw your body, he didn't say a word. just took a few long strides until he was at the table where nanami had placed you down. your eyes were shut, face resting in a way that seemed so unnatural. he opened his mouth to ask shoko something, but felt like he was choking on air, so he stopped himself.

then he grabbed your limp fingers, squeezed them gently. they were still a little warm, but not as warm as you usually run. shoko didn't say anything, just stood there with her hands clenched, short brown hair falling over her dark eyes.

satoru remained there for the next thirty minutes, waiting for you to sit up and laugh at the prank you were no doubt pulling. as if your blood wasn't still dripping all over the table.

shoko was the one who finally pulled a sheet over your body with shaking hands. she didn't look satoru in the eye, and didn't spare a glance when suguru burst into the room ten minutes later.)

v. 2008

it takes satoru a while to get used to the fact that you're not physically there. he has to bite his tongue when he moves to bump your shoulder or flick your forehead only to find that his skin goes right through yours. you always give him that same little rueful smile, and he sighs to himself.

he doesn't make an effort to figure out why you're there. he figures it's similar to how jujutsu users can come back as curses due to strong feelings. when he thinks about it though, guilt lodges itself into his throat, because the first thought he had when he heard you were entering death's door was no, don't you dare die.

every day he wonders if he's the one who cursed you to stay.

you act like it doesn't matter, hovering around him as he busies himself in his empty room. at first you're quiet, as though you've forgotten how to speak to him in your incorporeal form. but then you start asking him questions, and it's one question that satoru dreads to answer that you finally bring up.

"where's suguru?"

he's not stupid. he knows there's more you think of suguru than you've ever revealed. of course you'd want to know. but that doesn't mean he wants to be the one to tell you. you had died with nothing but a good impression of geto suguru. you'd probably died with your feelings for him still intact too.

it'd be selfish of satoru to ruin that.

"nothing, don't worry about it," he dismisses, voice clipped as he busies himself with preparing dinner. he knows that won't deter you.

you huff, moving to hover in his line of sight. you cross your arms as you glare at him seriously, and satoru hates how nostalgic your expression makes him feel. he tongues his cheek before sighing.

"he's gone." satoru answers simply. he tries to keep his tone even but it comes out bitter and strained. he can hear your quiet gasp, and feels your form move closer to him. if you were alive, he'd be able to feel your breath on his skin now.

"what do you mean, gone?"

satoru sighs again, turning to look at you completely. he hated everything about this. "he left school. went crazy. killed a bunch of people, including his parents."

he would've laughed at the comical way your jaw dropped if you didn't look so hurt. you sputter over your words as he picks up his bowl and moves to the table, trailing after him and demanding more information.

he doesn't hesitate to share, because he's always hated keeping secrets from you. you had this uncanny ability to see straight through him, and it never failed to make him feel unsettled. so he tells you everything that happened in the few weeks after you died. suguru leaving, their confrontation in shinjuku, his plans for non-sorcerers. he leaves nothing unsaid.

when he's done, he finally looks at you, trying to gauge your reaction. but you're just staring at his food with a bitter expression, brows pinched and lips pursed. satoru says your name once.

you glance at him, and it's too quick for him to look for any accusation in it. doesn't matter though, because he's ready to own up to his mistakes.

"you were right back then. about suguru." satoru admits quietly, turning to his food. he doesn't want to look at you anymore, because he's scared you'll show him how disappointed you are with him.

you don't say anything in response. but you sit down at the small dining table and watch him eat with soft eyes, one bite at a time. satoru doesn't admit it, but the whole time he imagines that you're gently rubbing his shoulder, and he thinks he hasn't missed you more than in that moment.

vi. 2007

(it was satoru's fault you died. if he hadn't been so selfish, you'd still be next to him, shoulder brushing his as the two of you walked through the streets of tokyo.

you had knocked on his door that morning before you had left for your last mission, rocking on your heels. he opened it groggily, still half asleep.

"you going on a mission?" satoru had yawned, drowsy eyes trailing over your uniform. you nod with a grin.

"mhm, with nanami. there are two separate areas with curses though, so we'll split up when we get there. should be simple enough." you shrug, toying with the collar of your uniform jacket.

satoru decides to be annoying. "then why are you here disturbing my sleep? get out." he groans dramatically, peering at you with narrowed eyes. you smack his arm, scoffing. you've stopped questioning why he keeps his infinity down for you do those things to him.

"i was gonna ask if you wanted to come with," you hiss, crossing your arms defensively. "but i'm taking it back, asshole."

he grins. "what? can't stay away?"

you roll your eyes, shaking your head with a sarcastic laugh. "don't flatter yourself."

satoru pauses for a second. "i was gonna go back to sleep." he admits, feeling a little guilty. he had just come back from a mission the night before, and he doesn't feel like leaving again. he doesn't know how to say that to you though.

but you see right through him, like you always do.

"you've been going on missions a lot lately," you smile earnestly, patting his shoulder. "no wonder you're tired."

"'m the strongest, i don't get tired." he protests, crossing his arms with a scoff. you roll your eyes again, sticking your tongue out at him as you heft your weapon over your shoulder.

"keep it up and you're seriously gonna fry your brain or something," you say with a shake of your head, eyes betraying your concern for him. he notices it, and tries to smother down the way it makes his stomach flip. "i'll be fine. you can come on my next mission with me."

fair enough, he thinks. he hadn't gone on missions with you or suguru in a while. he should remember to ask yaga to let him go on your next one. just the two of you. you and him. maybe he'd buy you a mango ice pop on the way back.

"fine." he acquiesces easily, not even thinking to protest. he'll see you later anyway, so he'll talk to you more when you get back.

you smirk a little, motioning to his bedhead, before gently kicking his shin. "go back to sleep then, stupid."

he rolls his eyes, reaching up to knock his knuckle against your forehead like he always does. "whatever. bring me some sweets on your way back, yeah?"

the laugh you give him as he shuts the door is the last thing he ever hears from you.

he should've gone with you.)

vii. 2012

satoru hates the way you're looking at him right now.

it was a stupid little mistake. he had gone to see little megumi and tsumiki earlier that afternoon, and as usual, you had tagged along with him. you'd watched him raise up the two kids over the last few years, never failing to tease about his newly acquired fatherhood, or how much he seemed to care about them despite his efforts to hide it. he didn't ever think to say that you'd helped him raise them up too. even in your incorporeal form you'd always been around to tell him what meals he could prep or to remind him that megumi liked black forest cake for his birthdays.

he'd gotten so used to you being around and he slipped up once. that afternoon when he had walked megumi home from school, teasing and poking fun at the kid, he'd made a stupid joke. megumi had rolled his eyes and told him to shut up.

and then without thinking, satoru had turned to you as you hovered next to him and groaned your name out dramatically before whining, "this kid is so mean to me!"

your eyes widened immediately, and if you were alive he'd probably see the color drain from your face. his stomach had sank and he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, even when megumi glanced at him with a raised brow.

"who are you talking to?" he asked, and satoru gulped, shaking his head as he broke eye contact with you to look down at the kid.

"nobody." he had answered.

he tries to ignore the meaningful stare you pin him with for the rest of the afternoon, hoping that you'll just forget about it. but as soon as satoru has left the kids and he's back in his own room, you're on him. he busies himself with making a cup of hot chocolate, even though he feels sick to his stomach.

"satoru you have to figure out how to get rid of me!" you plead, eyes so sad it makes his stomach churn. "i'm gonna drive you insane!"

"i'm fine!" he snaps back, shaking his head as he takes a sip from his mug, the warmth distracting him from whatever it was you were trying to remind him of. he places it down on the table in front of him and crosses his arms defensively. "it was a stupid mistake. won't happen again."

you shimmer in and out of focus, manifesting in front of him with a glare, though your eyes are still the same. wounded and hurt. "it wasn't and you know it! you can't keep living like this. i've been haunting you for years, toru!"

"well who asked you to go ahead and die?!" he yells without thinking, and it's like he sees your hurt bubble forth in slow motion.

"i went and died because i made a stupid mistake on a mission! quit blaming yourself, you dumbass!" you shout, voice raised higher than he's ever heard it.

satoru's mug shatters against the wall.

the two of you immediately turn to look at the mess with wide eyes, before slowly turning to each other to ensure that it really did happen.

"how'd you do that?" satoru asks quietly, his voice strained as he takes a few long strides towards you. you look down at your hand, the same one that you had lifted to swipe at his mug during your fit of rage. you look back up at him with wide eyes and parted lips. satoru's head is pounding, some kind of sick hope stirring within him. "you had to have touched it."

"i don't…" you trail off, voice filled with awe and a bit of fear. satoru reaches up a hand, ignoring the tremble in it, and moves to touch your face. he will never admit to the amount of times he begs in his head, please please please.

his hand goes straight though your skin, and your eyes soften. satoru lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, hiding his disappointment as he takes a step back and turns away.

viii. 2006

(satoru thinks gardening is ridiculous. plants are so fragile, needing to be constantly monitored and cared for like children. he can't understand why anyone would choose to garden as a hobby when there were less stressful things to do in spare time.

even the process was time consuming, he realizes as he scoops out piles of dirt into the small pots he had set out on his windowsill.

he thinks back to the silly little grin you had on your face as you answered shoko's question.

"morning glory," you had said, leaning against her shoulder. "i like the way they open in the morning and close at night."

shoko hummed, staring at the sky even as satoru quietly eavesdropped. "you got a favorite color?"

"the blue ones," you answered. "they're the prettiest."

your voice echoes in his head as he places the seeds into the soil, and he sighs heavily. why he was doing this for you was beyond him.

the thought makes him annoyed, and he huffs in frustration the entire time he plants them. gardening had to be the stupidest hobby ever.

and yet when three blue morning glories bloom against his windowsill, he can't hold back his grin.)

ix. 2017

satoru's grateful that you don't watch him kill suguru.

he tells you to go, and you give suguru a long stare, face pinched and sour even though your translucent eyes are shining. it's a shame suguru can't see you though, because satoru thinks you look so pretty. suguru would've been lucky to have you be the last thing he ever saw.

you turn away and disappear without a word, and after one last exchange, satoru finishes the job.

it's only after he watches rika's final goodbye to yuta does he realize the extent of what a goodbye even means. he'd said one to suguru, and yet he can't help but miss him as he walks back home. he wonders if suguru wouldn't have had to die if you were still around.

satoru had never gotten a goodbye with you though. you're somehow still with him, but he misses you so much. it puts an ugly feeling in his gut, twisted and dark. it weighs down on his shoulders as he finally opens the door to his room, heavy and overwhelming as he sees you sitting on his bed, face vacant.

he says your name, and you don't move. he takes a seat next to you, and something about your sad expression makes him so unbelievably angry.

"quit being sad about it," he finally spits out, the truthful extent of his feelings coming out. "it's not like you're even alive that you'd be able to see him."

you scoff as you give him a sidelong glare. "what's that supposed to mean? one of my closest friends just died and you expect me not to be upset about it?"

"at least he'll find a way to you!" satoru hisses, clenching his fists so hard that his nails leave crescents in his skin. "you two can have fun together for all of eternity."

there's a tense silence that follows as he grits his teeth, turning away from you. he's so disgusted right now. with suguru, with you, with himself.

"i'm all by myself." satoru mutters bitterly, the words so foreign on his tongue as the truth hits him.

god he misses you so much.

he suddenly feels a sharp thwack on the back of his head and he's turning around with wide eyes.

"don't you dare forget about shoko!" you hiss, tears in your eyes as you glare at him, hand raised. "i'll never forgive you!"

his throat goes dry, because the smack you just gave him was the first time you'd touched him since the day you died. there's a storm in his throat that threatens to break free, but he tries to keep it lodged in his throat. even with your teary eyes, he thinks you look just as pretty as you did with life flowing through you.

he misses suguru. he knows you do too, because there are translucent tears dripping down your cheeks and he has never ached to touch you more. but he can't because you're dead.

you remain in front of him all night, barely saying a word in between your sniffles. he doesn't say anything either, just watching you.

he doesn't know what there is to say. the only thing he ever wishes he got to say to you was goodbye. but you're here, in front of him, so a goodbye seems pointless.

when the sun comes up, you wish him a merry christmas, and he swears you never left him.

satoru says it back to you. you smile sadly.

he misses you so much.

x. 2007

(satoru had cleaned out your dorm room three days after you died.

he didn't really understand why he was doing it so early. shoko had frowned when he told her that he planned to pack away your things, frowned in a way that made her look like she disagreed.

well even if she did disagree, it didn't stop her from sitting in your desk chair, chewing on her nail quietly as she watched satoru fold your clothes. he didn't even understand why he was doing this.

maybe it was because every time he walked past your empty dorm room he felt sick to his stomach. there was a twisting feeling in his gut when he realized that you'd never curl up in that bed again. never sit by the window with a grin watching him and suguru bicker as they threw playing cards on the floor. he figured the faster he got rid of your remnants, the quicker the feeling would go away.

that's what he's hoping anyway. but when he picks up your jujutsu uniform he feels something claw at his throat, and he unconsciously digs his fingers into the fabric. he hears a sigh from behind him and then shoko is at his side, wordlessly easing the cloth from his hand. she lays it on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles before folding it carefully. when she places it into the box, satoru thinks her hands shake a bit.

there's a bitter expression on shoko's face that he's never seen before, and it makes his stomach twist.

they work on your room for the next few hours, until the sun has disappeared behind the horizon and the cool evening breeze bullies its way into your old space. neither of them say anything, save for the occasional nostalgic hum as they remember something that you did or they're reminded of the story behind one of the trinkets in your room. otherwise it's silent, and for a second satoru feels like he can hear your laugh.

it isn't until night has completely fallen that they are interrupted.

"what are you doing?"

satoru turns around just as shoko looks up, both of them finding suguru standing in the doorway. he hadn't taken a step in yet, eyes still trailing over the emptiness of your old room from behind an uncrossed line.

"cleaning." satoru answers, his voice oddly clipped.

"it wasn't messy…" suguru mutters back, his lips slanting in such an unusual way. there was an uncharacteristically determined look in his eyes, as though there was something in him that was struggling to burst forth. satoru didn't understand what it was.

"never said it was." satoru replies noncommittally. he hears shoko inhale deeply, shifting in your old chair as she watches the two of them stare at each other. there's a tense silence as he notices suguru frown.

satoru can't remember the last time he even had a full conversation with suguru. he remembers seeing you leave for your last mission, and he wants to kick himself for not asking earlier to be sent on group missions with the two of you.

even now, he doesn't really know what to say to suguru. all he can do is tighten his fingers around the edge of the box with your stuff neatly packed in, and watch his best friend sigh.

suguru wets his lips, eyes darting over your desk. there's an odd expression on his face, and his brows pinch as he notices something. then suguru reaches out to pick up an old polaroid, and satoru knows exactly which one it is. your arms slung around suguru's shoulders, smile so wide your cheeks probably hurt. suguru's expression was uncharacteristically gentle.

satoru remembers it so well, because he's the one who took the picture.

suguru looks at the polaroid without a word, rubbing the corner between his thumb and forefinger, and his expression suddenly mirrors the gentleness in the picture. his eyes remain stormy, deep and unsettling as he reaches conclusions that satoru will never understand.

the three of them stay quiet for a few minutes, even though satoru has so many questions that he can't figure out how to phrase. shoko toys with a cigarette between her lips, leaving it unlit because you've always hated the smell of smoke. suguru just stands there, silently eyeing your unfiltered smile through the lens of a camera.

satoru wonders if suguru's trying to say goodbye to you. he doesn't ask, and suguru doesn't say.

only after something had clicked in suguru's eyes, did satoru realize something was over. he couldn't help but feel like he had just buried you in that cardboard box with all your things, and he swallows hard.

then suguru clenches his fists, veins flexing as he looks around your room, almost like he was committing it to memory. satoru didn't understand why; it's not like suguru couldn't come see your room anytime he wanted.

then he turns away, hand lingering on the doorframe heavily, without another word.

just as suguru walks away, satoru thinks he hears your voice whispering in his ear.

"don't want him to get lost."

xi. 2018

something is wrong. something happened. something is wrong.

satoru knows he needs to wake up. but he's so tired, so exhausted from carrying on all by himself. he suddenly remembers the taste of frozen mango, sweet and chilled, and he wants to keep thinking about it for the rest of eternity.

but something is wong. he needs to wake up.

the minute satoru forces his eyes open, he can ignore the taste of blood in his mouth because you're there.

you're kneeling at his side, sunlight shining behind your head in a way that makes you look almost angelic. he'd believe it if you said you were an angel, because you've been dead for so long now.

you'd been a ghost for so many years, hovering around him and getting him through everything that had come his way. isn't that what guardian angels were supposed to do, guiding humans through their own trials? isn't that what you were doing to him since the day you died and came back to him?

you'd been a ghost. you'd been his angel. you'd been haunting him.

you'll always haunt him.

you seem to know it too, because the expression on your face is understanding, soft and yet so sad.

for what seems like the millionth time in his life, satoru aches to touch you.

he tries to move his hand but finds that he can't. synapses misfire. he can't feel his body anymore.

he wants to touch you. gods above, he wants to touch you so badly. please just this one last wish.

your translucent forms shimmers in the sunlight, and satoru can't tell if he's hallucinating or not because you suddenly seem to become fully physical. the particles of your form solidify, slowly filling with more color until you don't look quite so dilute. the saturation of your eye color comes back, and satoru can't look away because he's never seen a ghost so pretty before.

his breath hitches as you gently cup his cheek in your palm, warm and gentle. the melancholic look on your face makes his eyes sting.

"it's good to see you." he says with a weak smile, ignoring the metallic taste on his tongue. his breath is short, mind racing because your skin is on his again. finally, after so many years. you're so soft, just like he remembers.

"you weren't supposed to join me this quick." you sigh, eyes shining as you smile down at him ruefully. your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, and satoru's cerulean eyes flutter.

no. no more waiting. he'd missed you too much. he doesn't have it in him to stay away from you anymore. he'd done it long enough. your fingers tremble against his skin and he almost laughs.

no more haunting.

there's a resolute part of him that knows you'll be the first thing he sees when he gets to wake up again. he decides that, when he does, he'll get you a mango ice pop and plant some morning glories with you.

his eyes fall shut with a sigh.

"guess i couldn't stay away."

[fagus-sylvatica-beech-hedge]

okay buckle the fuck up because I've got a lot to say and not much time to say it.

the central theme and purpose of dan and phil crafts, at least in my opinion, boils down to trust.

the trust that they have for eachother and have had for years, and the trust they place in us as an audience.

for example, the sheer amount of trust that (crafts) phil had to have in (crafts) dan to let him sacrifice him multiple times, and believe that he would be able to successfully complete the ritual and bring him back to life, in a way mirroring the fact that (real) phil willingly went back into the closet after living somewhat openly as a gay man for several years in university, for the sole purpose of letting (real) dan process his sexuality in his own time, therefore "sacrificing" that part of himself for a time and trusting that dan would eventually get to a point where he would be more comfortable being out.

PART II: THE HAND HOLD

of course, now in the present day with both of them firmly out of the closet, having lived together for over a decade and built their "forever home" from the ground up, they understand the implications that can be drerrived from their more "coupley" actions, especially knowing how the phandom used to be.

if you have been in this fandom for any sizable amount of time you might remember how any "sighting" of them possibly holding hands was prone to much speculation and excitement,

images such as the ones presented below were posted and reblogged many times, with varying amounts validity.

[images taken from pinterest as I couldn't find the original posts, if you know who posted these please do let me know]

so, them standing front and centre, unabashedly holding hands symbolises this new era that we have been entering since the revival of dan and phil games, this era of acceptance and the trust that they are placing in us as an audience by letting us see a bit more of this side of them.

"we know you know" and all that.

so then, devotion, to a god, to an influential online figure, or of course devotion to a partner.

and what is devotion if not trust? and then again what is trust if not love.

thank you for coming to my ted talk, I have no idea if this makes sense to anyone else, I wrote this whole thing in about 15 minutes while slightly delirious from the heatwave currently boiling my whole city alive.

so long and thanks for all the fish

-fagus.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Birthday II

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: It's your first birthday

Morsa is living in the phone again.

She's a lot smaller when she lives in the phone than when she lives with you and Momma. You think that's kind of weird but there's some cake sitting in front of you so you don't dwell on it for too long.

Today is a special day apparently.

Today is the day that Morsa is supposed to be visiting. It's your birthday too but you're more focused on the first thing rather than the fact that you're getting older now.

Morsa is meant to be coming today but she isn't here yet and now she's stuck in the phone again.

"And here's the birthday girl," Momma says to her," She's about to enjoy her cake."

You look down at your slice of cake. You don't get given cake a lot, especially not fancy cake that has writing and pictures on the top. You don't really care about the stuff on top but you know the cake is fancy because it's there.

You grab a chunk of cake in your fist and raised it to your mouth.

It tastes really nice and you grab more.

"Birthday girl looks very happy," Morsa comments," Is that right? Are you enjoying your cake, princesse?"

You grunt as you shove cake into your mouth.

"She's very much enjoying it," Momma agrees," Birthday girl got spoiled a lot today."

"I'm glad. I'm sorry I couldn't be there."

A match late last evening had Magda unable to fly out yesterday night. She'd booked an early morning flight today, hoping that it meant she could still spend your first birthday with you without missing much.

But she'd gotten to the airport and found her plane delayed. There was no eta and it kept getting pushed back further and further to the point where Magda has to spend your birthday on the phone rather than in person.

The presents in her carry-on feel like weights as she watches you shovel more and more cake into your mouth until your plate is empty.

You're sitting up in your high chair with a beaming smile in a tiny Wolfsburg kit that Magda knows was given as a present to you. A big birthday badge is clipped to the jersey and a discarded birthday hat is sat on the tray next to your now empty cake plate.

It makes her heart ache thinking about how much of this she's missing.

It's just not the same seeing it all through a phone screen.

"My flight should be taking off in a few hours," She tells Pernille as you entertain yourself by picking up the birthday hat and shaking it," I'll probably get to yours around midnight."

She can't see Pernille with the camera on you but Magda's sure she's frowning.

"We can pick you up from the airport," She says," You don't need to get here on your own."

"It'll be too late for Princesse. She still needs sleep."

"Are you sure? I don't mind. She'll fall asleep in the car anyway."

"I'm sure," Magda insists," It's fine. I've got keys. I'll let myself in."

You drop the birthday hat and pout.

"Oh," Pernille chuckles," What's with the long face, princesse? Did you drop your hat?"

You kick your legs impatiently and point at it, whining. You look like you're about to whine more but Pernille places another slice of cake in front of you and suddenly you're distracted again.

You cram as much cake possible into your mouth, smearing your face with crumbs.

The cake is nice but you do feel a little bit cheated. Momma woke you up this morning saying that Morsa would be here to celebrate with you both but it's rapidly approaching bath and bedtime and she's nowhere to be seen.

That's a little mean of her.

It's even meaner of Momma to put you down in your crib and make you sleep before Morsa got here. They're both quite mean today even though it's your birthday and people should be nice to you when it's your birthday.

You wake up the next day ready to let your displeasure at being lied to known to Momma when she comes to grab you.

You don't get the chance to though because someone lifts you out of your crib with a smile and a soft voice.

"What's with the pouty face?" Morsa coos," Is being a one year old really that bad?"

For a moment, in your sleepy haze, you don't recognise her, a big pout and a grumpy look upon your features. Slowly, you blink awake fully and your pout morphs into a big happy smile.

"There she is," Morsa says," There's my happy baby! Look at you, my happy little one year old."

Your legs kick out as Morsa presses soft, ticklish kisses all over your face.

"I'm sorry I missed your birthday, princesse but I brought presents!"

You know that word. After yesterday, you've decided that you really like presents.

You hope Morsa's brought you some good ones.

You giggle.

"Yeah?" Morsa says," You like that? I've got lots of presents for you to open!"

[kestisvrse]

good luck charm

part i, part ii

pairing ⋆ hockey player!luke castellan x fem!reader au. fluff.

synopsis ⋆ the rivalry between you and luke had ended, revealing feelings that were buried and how badly he wanted to call you his.

warnings ⋆ i know nothing abt hockey i’m just canadian let me live, swearing, fast paced sorry😭 | wc: 1.3k

♫ - nervous by the neighbourhood

life recently felt like a parallel universe, it felt almost wrong to wake up every morning with a good morning text from luke castellan.

you weren’t exactly close, but you had gotten to the point where you could talk and you didn’t insult him the entire time, and even found yourself cheering for him at his games.

your brother nagged at you for details about what happened that day, as you responded with nothing other than you apologized for being rude to him. he wasn’t buying it all, he had yet to see the fact that you texted luke daily, he only noticed the lack of comments you would make towards him and the fact that you would smile towards luke, something he thought was physically impossible.

you had realized pretty quickly after that day that despite ‘hating’ luke, it was to get rid of the butterflies you felt everytime you saw his curly black hair in a room, or heard his raspy voice with the smirk he always wore. it embarrassed you to think about, to think like this over a boy, but you couldn’t help it.

luckily, it was obvious he likes you, it was obvious from the first day you met him and how often he would be distracted from his tasks by you, but now that you were friends? some people could consider it insufferable how he would act with you, one of your friends called him ‘lovesick’.

which he was, it was such an odd realization, going from hating the boy to secretly liking him while he acted like your boyfriend, constantly texting you, sending you videos of how it reminded him of you or that you two should do a tik tok trend that was obviously made for couples.

he wasn’t embarrassed, he wanted you to know from the start how he felt, but the walls you built hid you from the truth until he broke them down.

despite how it all felt to you, rushed and weird, you found yourself sitting in his car, looking over the ocean as the sun set.

you couldn’t help but overthink everything, after all you said to him, here he sat, admiring your face unable to tear away, like you were a mirage he didn’t want to fade away.

“you’re staring, castellan.” you broke the silence between you two.

“thank you so much, captain obvious.” you could hear the smirk that formed as he said his clever response, earning an eye roll from you, but your own smile creeping up, “you coming to the game tomorrow?”

“yeah, why?” you ask

“great, i want you to wear this.” he reaches into his backseat before returning with his jersey, his eyes full of joy as he offers it to you.

“luke..” you stared at the jersey in your hands, “are you sure? i mean people will probably think i’m your girlfriend.”

“that was the plan, yes.” he says, “just, try it on.” he motions to you, you shrug it over your hoodie looking for his reaction.

to say he was in awe was an understatement, he was stuck in a trance at the sight of you wearing his number, like a deer in headlights he stared at you.

“luke…?” you spoke up, he snapped his head up to make eye contact with you.

“please wear it to the game.” he stuttered, his cheeks flushed red and suddenly his car felt very hot.

“okay, i will.” you whisper.

↦

the freezing air against your face from the rink was so familiar it barely bothered you anymore, you had yet to see your brother and you wondered just what would go through his head at the sight of you, a hoodie on with an extra layer of the team’s colours, sporting luke castellan's number.

you didn’t even think of luke’s reaction, something about really seeing you with it on at the rink, he knew he was done for. when he exited the dressing room he immediately froze at the sight of you, and your smile that you reserved just for him, he was bright red at this point.

“luke!” you blurted, running up to him.

“hey.” he breathed out, unable to take his eyes off you.

“goodluck, you’ll do great.” you praised him, biting back a smile as you stared up at him.

“i have a good luck charm today, i think we can win.” he told you, a cheeky grin appearing, you tilt your head asking what it was, “you.”

before you could answer he was dragged off to the ice, you could feel your own blush rise up at his words. quickly rushing to your seat, your brother spots you and mid smile his jaw drops.

you sent him a sheepish wave, as luke grinned at the sight of him.

and then the game started.

as per usual, luke whipped around the ice. easily dodging and weaving his opponents as if they were made of air. it was mesmerizing to watch the way he moved, he seemed so focused on the task at hand, and yet even while he skated down the rink with the puck at the end of his stick, he still found the opportunity to look at you.

he was bound to get player of the game you thought to yourself, the way he boosted his teammates up, making sure everyone got the chance to make an impressive move even if that was the complete opposite point of the sport.

as the final buzzer rang, you jumped from your seat, the crowd watching erupted into cheers at the teams win as they watched the boys tackle each other into hugs.

you quickly dodged and ran through the stands to get to the entrance to the rink, to congratulate the team, as luke watched you make your way to him, he threw his helmet to the side to grab you and bring you into his arms.

“you won! you fucking won the tournament castellan!” you squealed into his neck.

he stopped spinning you and placed you onto the ground, and the way he looked into your eyes made everyone in the rink disappear. the cold air that previously nipped at you was replaced with a warm cozy feeling as you stared into his eyes.

he went to ask you the question, but his words wouldn’t come out, he felt his team stop and stare at the two of you, as you nodded towards him just from the expression in his eyes.

the expression was him asking if he could kiss you.

you swore you heard fireworks when he lent down to meet your lips, his gloves discarded so he could put his sweaty hands on your face, the feeling of his chapped lips against yours was enough to make you completely ignore how sweaty he was from the game.

he pulled away from your lips, as badly as he wanted to stay there forever.

“been wanting to do that for awhile.” he breathes, awestruck as he stares at you, as if you were the most extraordinary thing in the world.

“i knew it!” your brother's voice called out, distracting you from answering, “i knew you were sneaking out to see him!” your brother's jaw was on the ground.

“uh… sorry?” you muttered

your brother gave luke the iconic ‘you hurt her, i kill you.’ look before wandering into the dressing room.

luke just turns to you, “can i take you on a proper date tonight, good luck charm?” he asks

you snort, but begin to grin, “once you wash all this sweat off, i would love to go on a date with you.” he smirks and goes to kiss you, but you place your palm on his chest to push him back, “shower, castellan.”

despite how fast he flew down the rink, he definitely ran faster to the shower, in desperate need for another kiss from you.

[pitchsidestories]

Just a little crush II Kim Little x Beattie!Reader

masterlist I word count: 3192

a/n: sorry, It's a lengthy one, but we hope you still enjoy it. ❤️

“Lee, who’s that girl talking to Jen?”, Kim Little asked Arsenal’s vice-captain while licking her lips nervously. They and some other family and friends gathered for a party to send Jen Beattie off who was going to California to join Bay FC.

There was something about that young woman standing next to her friend which was making her feel and think things the midfielder never did before, but she didn’t want to dwell on them any further as it would lead to much more questions and less clear answers.

Amused Leah Williamson raised her eyebrows:” Oh Kimmy, you don’t recognize her? It’s Jennis baby sister, she’s fresh out of Edinburgh University!”

“That’s not Jen’s sister! She looked so much younger last time.”, the Scottish woman shook her head in disbelief.

Still smiling the England captain replied: “Yes, it’s, she’s 25 now.”

“Oh wow.”, Kim muttered.

Noisily Beth Mead took part in their conversation:” Who are you two gossiping about? I want to know.”

“Jens little sis.”, Leah answered with a smug smile on her face.

“She turned into a real beauty, right?”, the blonde forward winked watching Kim turning red.

Much to her dismay the defender noticed it:” think our captain would agree with you.”

“Stop it.. I’m not.”, Kim explained slightly embarrassed.

“Having a little crush?”, Beth teased her teammate grinning.

Tuning in Steph Catley chirmed:” Oh Kim, that’s so cute.”

“I don’t have a crush.”, their captain disagreed. She felt relived when Jen came along distracting from the gossiping football players.

“Hi guys, remember my little sister?”, the tall Scottish defender asked.

Cheerful you greeted them:” Hi, everyone.”

“Hello great to see you again. Even though the reason is kind of sad.”, Beth responded with a sad smile.

Empathetically you nodded:” No, I agree but shamefully can’t wait to visit her soon in Cali.”

“You all act like I’m disappearing forever.”, your big sister laughed. Even though you knew the farewell felt equally as bittersweet to her.

Quickly Lia Wälti hugged her: “We can’t help how we’re feeling, Jen. It’s a big loss for us and a big win for Bay FC.”

“You girls are the sweetest.”, Jen whispered, she was so grateful for the friendships she made during her time at Arsenal.

Big eyed Steph Catley responded:” I’ll miss my favourite neighbour.”

“I’ll miss living next to you too, Steph.”, the defender answered truthfully.

This was the moment you found the time to talk to Kim directly to express your gratitude towards her:” Thanks for letting me stay at your place for a few weeks, Kim.”

“You’re welcome. Now that your sister can’t let you stay anymore.”, the older woman waved it off.

“I really appreciate it.”

With a small smile the midfielder told you in a reassuring tone:” You can stay as long as you want. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m sure you’ll have a great time together.”, Jen intervened confidently.

You gave your sister a nod: “I’m sure we’ll.“

As the evening progressed, the atmosphere became more and more relaxed. You felt right at home with your sisters teammates who happily shared stories about Jen with and made sure your glass was never empty.

It was only after midnight that Kim appeared right in front of you, reaching out a hand towards you: “Come, I’ll get you home.“

“Now?“, you asked, surprised by how drunk you sounded already.

Kim just raised an eyebrow but did not comment on it: “Yes, it’s late.“

“Bye, Jen!“, you shouted across the room to your sister while Kim helped you into your coat.

With one swift motion, Jen came over and pulled you into a tight hug: “Bye, you two.“

Luckily, the way home in Kims car was short. You were by sleep and found it difficult to keep your eyes open. Once Kim led you into the guest room of her apartment, you let yourself fall onto the bed with a relieved sigh. Kims dog curled into a ball at your feet.

“This is really cozy.“, you mumbled, burying your face into the soft pillows.

Kim watched you from the doorway: “Glad you feel at home here.“

“Good night, Kim.“

The corners of her mouth quirked up as she closed the door behind her and you fell into a dreamless sleep.

You woke up early the next morning and decided to make coffee for yourself and Kim. The coffee was just done brewing as Kim came back from walking her dog. Beaming, you handed her a mug: “Morning, this one is for you.“

She gave you a surprised look first but then took the coffee from you: “Oh. Thank you.“

“You’re welcome. Also I hope I didn’t say anything weird when we went home last night.“, you said as you sat down at the kitchen table together. You took a sip of coffee to hide your reddening cheeks behind the cup.

“No. Like what?“, Kim asked inquiringly.

You decidedly ignored her question and only reacted to the first part: “Oh good.“

“You almost immediately fell asleep.“, she explained plainly.

Changing the topic, you suggested: “Do you like Pizza? When I’m done with my interview, I could get some on the way back.“

Finally, a small smile appeared on the football players face: “Sure, why not?“

“Okay, great.“

With a glance toward the kitchen clock, Kim announced: “I have to leave for training now. So, see you later?“

“Yes, see you.“, you smiled at her.

Just before Kim walked out, she paused for a moment: “Oh, wait.“

“Uhm, yes?“, you patiently looked at her as she walked back into the kitchen.

“I forgot to give you the keys.“, she said, carefully tossing them in you direction.

You caught them with a grin: “Right. Thank you, Kim.“

“See you later. Good luck with your interview.”, Kim replied.

You were almost at the door when you turned around to face her beaming with hopefulness: “Thanks. Have fun in training!”

During training Kim warmed up with Cloé Lacasse. The Canadian striker asked her curiously:” So you got yourself a roommate, Kim?”

“I was more or less assigned a roommate, Cloé. She was supposed to stay with Jen, but she decided to leave us.”, the Arsenal captain explained with a deep sigh.

With a mischievous smile on her lips Leah came to a stop right next to the older women: “The most important part is though that Kim has a Girl crush on said roommate.”

Annoyed by her comment Kim rolled her eyes at the defender:” I don’t have a girl crush, Leah.”

“Kim is straight too.”, the Canadian forward added.

“Right.”, the Scottish midfielder nodded. Although deep inside of her something didn’t sit right with it although it has been true for so many years at this point. Why did your presence make her question things she thought she knew about herself.

This didn’t impress Leah in the least: “You should have been there Cloé when they met at Jens Farewell Party.”

“Well, I can’t wait to hopefully meet her soon.”, Cloé answered politely.

Frustrated Kim intervened:” You guys are making a way too big deal out of it.”

“If you need to chat though we’re here for you, Kim.”, Beth offered warmly.

Stubbornly the Scottish woman shook her head: “I don’t need to chat. She’s just staring at my place.”

“Alright, just saying.”, the England forward mumbled.

“It’s not a big deal.”, her captain repeated in a serious tone which made obvious that she was done with talking for now.

Reading the signs Leah decided:” Let’s get back to training.”

Finally, Kim thought relieved as they started to move again, distracting from the whirlwind, which was currently inside of her, giving her a peace of mind for the moment.

In the early evening you returned to Kim’s place announcing cheerfully:” Hi, I got the pizza.”

“Thanks. How did your interview go?”, she wanted to know from you.

As you were setting up the table for dinner, you told her about it:” Not too bad, actually. They said my writing is promising but they asked me if I really want to stay focused on women’s football.”

Interested the Scottish woman looked up to you:” What did you say to them?”

“That I don’t want to change my focus, I love writing about women’s football and the culture surrounding it.”, you responded.

Proudly Kim remarked:” Your sister would have done the same in your position.”

“She would’ve, right?”, you asked her cautiously.

Kim nodded once with conviction: “Absolutely.“

“There’s still such a long way to go… although the recent success helped a bit.“, you thought out loud, a sad smile tugging on your lips.

“You don’t have to tell me.“, Kim replied with her gaze trained on the kitchen table.

You could sense that the football player felt a similar way about the topic. Your curiosity was piqued so you continued: “For you and Jen it must have been an amazing progress to live through.“

“Yes. We’re lucky to be part of this generation. Selling out stadiums is something that a few years ago we thought was impossible.“, she explained calmly.

You were reminded of your sisters first football games. She was not getting paid to play yet and the number of fans was ridiculously low compared to this season. You bit your lip: “Yes, I remember that too.“

“I appreciate that you want to keep focusing on womens football.“

Hearing her say that made your heart flutter for a brief moment. But you were also reminded how quickly the atmosphere had changed. You sighed and with all the enthusiasm you could muster, said: “We should eat the pizzas now before they get too cold.“

“You’re right.“

As you both sat down, taking the first slices of the pizza, you admitted: “But I do love talking about football with you.“

“We can continue at another time if you want.“, Kim suggested a little more relaxed.

“Yes, I’d like that very much.“

“Me too.“

“Great.“

Kim put her slice of pizza down and looked at you thoughtfully: “We’re playing at home on the weekend. You should come watch.“

“Yes, I’ll be there.“, you politely smiled back at her.

Kims focus had already shifted back to her pizza: “Great.“

 The stadium was starting to fill on the following Sunday while players walked out to warm up. You were engrossed in a conversation with your friend Emily who after a long time of convincing had finally agreed to come to the game with you. You completely missed that Cloe Lacasse walked out on the pitch with Kim and curiously nodded in your direction: “So that’s her?“

“Yes, that’s her.“, Kim replied, a frown on her face as she spotted you close to the field.

“Is that her girlfriend? The one who’s standing next to her?“, the Canadian wanted to know.

Kim shrugged and shook her head: “She didn’t say anything about a girlfriend.“

Still, her gaze lingered on the two of you for a little longer.

The game ended with an easy win for Arsenal. Apart from the goals of Cloe and Alessia Russo, Kim also converted a penalty. The atmosphere in the stadium after the game was great and you immediately felt at home. However, the mood between the players on the pitch was less elated.

Leah Williamson bumped her captain with her shoulder: “Kim? You’re even quieter than usual.“

“What? I’m just focused.“, the midfielder replied, pulling away from her teammate.

The younger player couldn’t ask any further as you hugged the Scottish woman and sung:” Kim, you had a fantastic game, Kim!” Seeing the England captain you added blushing:”Hi Lee.”

Smiling Leah couldn’t help but to notice the height difference between you two, you were almost as tall as Jen while your roommate was fairly small: “Our skipper was great, right?”

“Yes, she definitely was.”, with that said you let Kim down.

Much to your surprise she didn’t look happy despite the comfortable win:”Thanks.”

The midfielder didn’t say anything further instead she left the room and left you clueless. Puzzled you turned around to look at her teammate: “Well, that was a bit strange do you know what’s going on, Leah?”

“I think she’s a bit jealous.”, the blonde replied seriously.

Baffled by that you let out a shaky laugh:” Jealous? Kim?”

Leah grinned: “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Because you brought your girlfriend.”, the defender replied, crossing her arms in front of her.

“My girlfriend? Emily is just a friend!”, you corrected her, shaking your head in disbelief.

Sceptical Leah rose an eyebrow at you:” Oh, is she?”

“Yes, wait, did Kim think that Em was my girlfriend?”, you questioned her.

Thoughtfully Leah responded:” Maybe.”

“I need to talk to her.”, you decided.

With an empathetic smile on her lips the blonde held you back: “Maybe not now.”

You listened to her advice, so you went back to Emily and brought her home before making your way slowly to Kim’s home. In your mind it already was yours too.

On her car ride home Jen phone called the Arsenal captain:” Hi mate, great game!”

“Thanks, Jen. How’s California?”, Kim asked her.

“It’s been really great so far., the defender sounded happily before turning more serious, but you texted that you needed to talk?”

Earnestly Kim told her: “Yes. About your sister. Did you know that she’s dating someone?”

“What? No, she’s single.”, she mumbled convinced.

“What do you mean? She brought someone to our game today?”, the midfielder frowned.

Quickly Jen explained: “Yes Emily, she’s just a friend of her, Kimmy.”

“Are you sure? They seemed close?”, Kim almost felt something like relief by her former teammates reply. Although she didn’t dare to trust the news yet.

“Kim, I’m sure of that besides Emily has a boyfriend.”, Jen chuckled.

“If you say so.”

“But you can ask my sister again. Kim are you jealous?”, the defender wanted to know from her friend.

Offended Kim scoffed at her:” Why would I be jealous? I was just wondering why she’d stay with me when she’s got a girlfriend here.”

“Now you know. I need to go to training, hope to hear from you soon, mate?” After a few goodbyes they ended the phone call and the Arsenal captain tried to focus on the drive instead of the turmoil which was inside her.

When the door closed behind Kim, you looked up from the food you were cooking. While the Arsenal players showered and debriefed at the stadium, you had hurried to get home and surprise your housemate with a freshly cooked dinner. “Kim? Hi, I started cooking…“, you greeted her.

The football player raised her eyebrows in surprise: “You’re already here?“

You nodded: “Yes, Emily had to go back to her boyfriend who has a bit of a cold. Otherwise we might have gone to a pub. Do you want a drink to celebrate the win?“

“No, thanks. I usually don’t drink after games.“, Kim answered plainly, putting her bag down next to the kitchen table.

You grimaced: “Oh, right. Sorry. So water?“

“Sure. What are you cooking?“, Kim asked, looking over your shoulder at the food while you poured two glasses of water.

You smiled while handing her one of the glasses: “Some pasta dish. It’s one of the few things I can cook.“

The football player nodded impressed and smirked slightly: “That’s more than your sister can cook.“

“That’s true.“

You both sat down to enjoy your home-cooked meal, talking about the game again even though Kim kept her answers short. You took the empty plates and set them down at the sink: “I guess I’ll let you sleep now.“

“You don’t have to. I can’t sleep yet anyway.“, Kim replied to your surprise.

You slowly turned back to her, biting down a nervous smile: “Okay but you know you can just ask me on a date instead of running away and sulking after the match, right?“

Her eyes widened in shock: “Wait, what are you talking about?“

“Leah said you were jealous because of Emily and you really don’t need to be.“, you shrugged, trying to keep the nonchalance in your voice.

“I wasn’t jealous.“, she protested.

You looked back at the dishes in the sink, waiting: “Good.“

“That’s ridiculous.“

“Kim…“, you started but when you looked back to her, she had already bridged the gap between you two and pressed her lips to yours. You gasped into the kiss: “What?“

“That was a mistake. I’m sorry.“, she sighed, shaking her head in a mix of confusion and guilt.

She wanted to turn away from you but you grabbed her wrist: “No, please, do it again.“

There was an urgency in your voice that made Kim search for your eyes: “Are you sure?“

“Yes.“

“But… okay.“

She kissed you again, more patiently now. This time you could savour the taste of her lips on yours and only then you realized that she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach you. You were so charmed by this that you could not stop yourself from smiling.

As you both pulled away, you could see an uncertainty in Kims eyes. It was definitely not the kiss, you could feel that you both enjoyed it. Another thougth raced through your head: “Am I your first woman? Don’t worry, we have time. When is your next free day? Maybe we could go to a restaurant.“

“I have tomorrow off.”, she told you straight away.

A relieved sigh escaped your mouth:” Perfect, with a smirk you continued, also, you’re not a bad kisser, captain.”

“I never said I was.”, Kim laughed, you could tell some weight fell off her shoulders.

“No just saying.”, you shrugged.

The midfielder put a loose string of hair behind her ear:” Thanks.”

A month later Kim and you had a video call with your sister. The first thing you told her was that you two became a couple. “You two are dating?! You better take good care of her little sis!”, Jen warned you in a jokingly tone.

“What?! Me?!”, you huffed.

Grinning the defender nodded: “Yes, you heard me.”

“Wow.”, you ran a free hand through your hair.

Meanwhile your girlfriend seemed to have ignored that part of the conversation as she reassured Jen:” Don’t worry, I’m taking good care of your sister.”

“I can already see that.”, your big sister observed amused.

“Jen, you’re a terrible big sister.”, you teased her.

“I’m the best big sister.”, she countered quickly.

“Sure.”, you rolled your eyes at her.

“Stop it you two.”, Kim demanded in her captain voice.

Smiling Jen answered:” No, get used to it, Kimmy. You’re part of the Beattie family now.”  

“Oh yes.”, you added, while giving the midfielder a kiss on her blushing cheek.

Coming to London to move in with one of your sister’s oldest friends was one of the best things that could had happen to you.

As for Kim she never knew she could fall for a woman until you came into her life, but the midfielder was very happy to have let her change her mind about that. Turned out you were more than just a little crush.

[updownlately]

how could i ever (treat my baby that way)

| leah williamson x reader | angst | 4.7k | inspo: never keeping secrets by babyface | a/n: got this ask a long ass time ago and it's finally gone somewhere. this is part one to a two part fic! (read part ii here)

~~~

You’d think that between the chilly air coming out of the air conditioning in the room and the freezing cold drink in your hand that you’d be comfortably cool, body not overheating despite being in a slightly crowded bar. 

You hoped that would be the case, just like it had been many times before. Yet, the way your body was burning right now contrasted your prayers, unusual for you, yet not surprising given the circumstances.

You knew you were pissed, could nearly feel the steam coming out of your own ears before your emotions could even make themselves known. It sucked, having to accept your fate, letting yourself get more and more agitated at the sight in front of you, hand tightening on your glass, fingertips white. But that’s all you could do, invisible rope holding you back, keeping your hands tied, the artist no other than the one you loved.

Letting your eyes drift over to the blonde, your blonde, in the middle of the dance floor, your jaw tightened. 

You knew she was yours, the two of you having been together for over a year now. You knew she was yours, your apartment being the one she resided in the most. You knew she was yours, ‘I love you’s’ whispered in the mingled breathes you shared late into the night. You knew she was yours. So why didn’t it feel like it?

Your unwavering gaze, almost like two laser beams, focused on your girlfriend, mentally begging her to look your way, to see the hurt in your eyes.

Taking a deep breath to try (and fail) to calm yourself down, you quickly downed the rest of your drink, thankful to have gone the sober route tonight. You didn’t know what drunk you would’ve done in all this hurt, and you surely didn’t want to find out.

Contemplating whether you should swim your way through the sea of people to the bar, you waited. You waited, and waited, and waited, pleading to the universe that she would meet your eyes.

She didn’t look. 

Not a single glance was sent your way.

She didn’t care. 

Shaking your head, anger quickly turning into disappointment, then sadness, you stepped out of where you were in the corner, having preferred to stay back by the booth as the rest of the girls enjoyed their night. 

Making your way over to the bar, you ordered yourself a water, hoping it would soothe the ache in your chest. 

Downing half of it as soon as the bartender passed it to you, you turned, eyes once again finding purchase on your girlfriend subconsciously.

You watched as she danced with the Chelsea player unashamedly, almost proudly, as if she didn’t have a girlfriend to go home to at the end of the night.

Naive and infatuated, you had never bothered to consider the difference between private and secret back when the idea was suggested to you. Now? Now you utterly resented the distinction between the two words.

Feeling the hair on the back on your neck rising however, you blinked out of your thoughts, quickly zoning back into real life, scanning the room for the cause before ocean eyes met yours. 

Leah.

The blonde was finally looking right at you, the girl in front of her continuing to dance in close proximity, her eyes closed- too gone with the music, to notice her distracted partner.

Raising an eyebrow in silent question, you waited.

You waited for a reaction, an apologetic smile, a mouthed sorry. Something to show she realized how her actions were hurting you. Anything. 

You waited a second, then another, and then another. 

Instead you got nothing, a continued blank look shot your way as she continued looking at you, head tilted.

You were well aware you didn’t have to say much, nearly a year of being in a relationship, a little over two of living together meant she knew you- quite well too, if you had an opinion on the matter. 

In this moment though, it felt like not enough. 

All the memorized takeout orders, her awareness on how you liked your coffee, what your moods were and how to best comfort you in your lows- her knowing all of that didn’t matter if she couldn’t understand how absolutely heartbroken you felt right now, watching her keep away from you, dance with another body that wasn’t yours, marking a win that you both shared, but only one of you were celebrating.

It didn’t matter if she didn’t realize she was hurting you. 

Bringing your drink towards your chest, you ducked your forehead down, letting the cool glass bring you some reprieve to your growing headache, no doubt caused by heartache. 

Wanting nothing more than to leave, teammates be damned- this night was over for you long ago- you placed the glass back on the bar top, thanking the woman behind it once again before heading over to the team’s table.

Quickly grabbing your coat, confident that Leah could find her way home- not out of malice but with the staggering number of your shared friends, teammates, and rival players in the club- you bid adieu to Steph and Kim, the only two by the table, citing a tired body as your excuse. 

Exiting the stifling atmosphere and slipping into the cool air, you took a deep breath in, forcing your shoulders to relax in an attempt to convince yourself you were okay. 

Well aware that Leah’s eyes had followed you out, you committed the sound of only your footfalls in the late night into memory, eyes stinging, shaky breaths escaping you. 

Beginning the trek home, your apartment not too far, you let yourself get lost in your thoughts. 

~~~

It’s much, much, later when you hear the unmistakable jingle of Leah’s keys by your front door- three forty-three am to be exact. 

You weren’t surprised to hear her here. It was very much expected in fact, the blonde spending nearly all her days and nights here since quarantine started, not bothering to move out once you had made things official. 

Sighing at the fact that you hadn’t slept a wink since you had reached home, not for a lack of trying but for having to console your dejected heart, you internally groaned at the thought of dealing with a drunk Leah. 

Putting your grief aside for the time being and rising out of bed, you rubbed the tiredness out of your eyes and padded over to the kitchen just as Leah stumbled into the entry hallway in front of you. 

Taking in the sight before you, you sighed warily. 

The blonde looked absolutely disheveled- hair matted to her forehead but sticking out everywhere, heels in her hand, and exhaustion pouring out of her eyes.

Watching her stagger blindly towards the island, you quickly put an arm around her waist, leading her to sit on a barstool as you silently grabbed her some water.

Placing the glass in front of her, you turned, planning to head into your shared bedroom to get a set of clothes for the midfielder to change into when her groggy voice interrupted your actions, derailing your thoughts.

“You left early…”

The accusatory tone wasn’t lost on you, your defences immediately going up. 

Baffled at how it was your behaviour being questioned, you shook your head in shock. 

“I did,” you state matter-of-factly, turning to face her. 

You paused for a second, waiting to see what the blonde would say next, already on edge from the rollercoaster of emotions from today.

“Why?”

The question put you in a state of incredulity, your anger and hurt resurfacing.

“Why? You’re really asking me why?” Your voice came out louder than you would’ve liked, given the time, but you didn’t pay much mind. 

“Leah, you spent the whole night getting cozy with another girl. The whole night! While I was there! And you’re asking me why I left early?”

“We were just dancing…it’s not like I was making out with her in the middle of the dance floor.” The slurred words combined with the eye-roll from the defender had you shaking your head. “It was completely platonic.”

You couldn’t believe this.

“You’re joking right? Or did you get a concussion mid-game that I don’t know about?” 

“Relax... just because you can’t go a few hours without me doesn’t mean I have to do the same.” 

The slurred words coupled with the nonchalant tone with which Leah expressed herself caused you to lose your breath for a second, mind baffled.

“Did you-,” collecting yourself for a second, you asked her, “…did you just call me clingy?”

Swallowing hard in the silence that followed, you felt your stomach sink.

“You’re really calling me clingy?” The shakiness in your voice made itself known, disbelief becoming apparent.

“It was friendly.” You watched as Leah turned her body away from you, choosing to rest her head on the cool countertop in order to find some relief from her probable headache.

“Was it? You want me to go fucking drape myself all over Millie the next we go out with the United team? Let me know if you feel ‘clingy’ then?” Voice rising more than quiet words once more, you took a step back, trying to put space between you and the other girl. 

“Oh come on it wasn’t that big of a deal…” 

You would have agreed it this hadn’t happened so often, so many times in the past- tonight being your tipping point.

There had already been multiple team events where the blonde stayed the furthest away from you, never bothering to celebrate your goals with you, avoiding any physical contact, almost as if it burned her to be near you. Hiding away any photos you took together, platonic or romantic, in her phone, them never once leaving her library. 

You didn’t know how much more of this you could take, really. 

Ignoring that she couldn’t see you, you shook your head at Leah. Clenching your jaw, you decided to forego taking care of the blonde like you had planned.

“Great, then neither will be you going to bed alone tonight,” you scoffed. 

You saw the midfielder immediately shoot up into a sitting position from her slumped state, eyes wide, body tense.

“We haven’t slept apart since the pandemic, you know that,” her timid voice echoed in the dark apartment.

It was true. You’d both had gotten lucky since and had even been paired up for the handful of times the team had stayed in a hotel, the only time spent apart being during international breaks.

“Well I feel like I was too clingy earlier so I wanna give you space now, since you so clearly crave that.”

“Babe…” 

Well aware that you were too upset to think rationally, you continued ignored Leah’s pleas. Turning on your heel, you started to make your way to grab your pillow and head to the guest room, choosing to kick yourself out rather than disturb the midfielder.

Hearing footfalls behind you, you shook your head as you continued on your path.

“Leah, go to bed. I’m sleeping alone and that’s final.” Your voice came out cold, almost stoic.

The blonde reached for your hand, fingertips barely skimming yours as you harshly pulled your arm to your chest, cradling it.

“Leah I fucking mean it.”

Shoulders dropping, the blonde dejectedly agreed, too out of it to protest again.

Hearing a lack of footsteps behind your own as you made your way across the hall, you shuddered as your heart sank deeper, the weight in your chest settling torturously.

Why did love hurt?

~~~

You didn’t know it but Leah’s miserable the next few days without you. She’s well aware she’d put her foot in her mouth far enough, dug her own grave, but she misses you terribly anyways. 

She misses your hugs in the morning and how you’d let her cuddle you as you cooked breakfast. She misses your kisses and the way you’d randomly just come sit with her during your free time. She misses you being around her, you always hyper, your energy infectious, always brightening her moods. She especially missed your mere presence, you now never spending more time than needed in the same room as her now, instead electing to leave for practice much earlier than needed, picking up takeout and eating in your room, doing anything and everything to ensure you both would never cross paths for longer than a handful of seconds. 

The distance between you had been so noticeable that it didn’t take the team long to catch on, the way you didn’t gravitate to Leah at every given chance during training a stark contrast to your regular shenanigans. 

It had gotten to the point where the team had even been too scared to ask you directly, your frustration clear enough on the pitch with how hard you trained, interactions with the rest of your teammates minimizing as well.

It’s why Beth and Lia had quietly confronted Leah, both uneasy at what had changed between you both. 

“You two okay? She keeps avoiding you at practice, and to be honest, it’s slightly worrisome…” Lia’s voice trailed off as her, Beth, and Leah made it back towards the locker rooms post-practice.

Taking a quick look over her shoulder, not finding you trailing behind, Leah faced the Swiss captain, voice dropping lower. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine. She’s just going through some personal stuff. She’ll be okay…”

The ‘I hope so’ went unsaid, but the way Leah’s pitch rose at the end of the statement had the two other player’s eyebrows raising in silent question, thoughts they both chose not to voice on the tip of their tongues.

Nodding in response, the trio continued their walk in silence, no one wanting to push too hard.

Unsaid or not, all three knew that nothing was fine, Leah more so than the others, and it scared her immensely. 

~~~

Stress clear on her face, Leah sprinted off the pitch after the game against Chelsea, chasing you down the tunnel before the rest of the team had even left the field. 

Catching up to your tired body, she grabbed your hand and pulled you in the opposite direction to a more secluded spot, uncaring of how drained you absolutely were.

Too tired from the past few days to refute, you let yourself be pulled.

When the blonde figured you two had made it far enough down the tunnel to talk without being heard, she quickly turned on her heel, stopping and looking at you, face screwed in displeasure. 

“What the fuck was that on the field today? Why were you so aggressive?! You got carded for fuck’s sake- you don’t get carded…ever!”

Sighing, barely scrounging up the energy for the conversation, you closed your eyes, pulling your arm away from her hold.

“I played the game. That’s what I did. Fouls are part of the game,” Your voice was rigid, no fight in you, not after how horribly you’d been sleeping as of late, the argument from nights ago not only affecting the blonde. 

“You played dangerously, that’s what you did! You were irresponsible, careless, and…and reckless! Not to mention selfish! Do you know how much of a difficult situation it would’ve been had you got a red? And with the way that referee was calling fouls, it’s a miracle you didn’t!” 

You could’ve gotten hurt. The words go unsaid.

By now the blonde was nearly yelling, face red from frustration.

Please just let me go.

Biting the inside of your cheek to stay calm, you sighed again.

“Game’s over either way. I didn’t get a red and we won…I don’t see a problem here.” Your voice curt, you made a move to step past the midfielder.

You didn’t get far however, the other girl’s hand coming to grasp your wrist to prevent you from stepping away any further. 

Stopping briefly in your tracks, you didn’t turn. You couldn’t. You couldn’t because if you did, she’d see the tears that were threatening to fall, heart exhausted. 

Instead, you shake your head, tugging your arm out of her grasp and bringing it to cautiously wipe away the few tears that had escaped. 

Watching your figure walk away, Leah’s face fell at your lack of care. 

Dejectedly, she followed you, a fair distance away. Making her own way to the change rooms with a flurry of thoughts in her head and an ache in her chest, she swallowed the lump in her throat.

She couldn’t even blame anyone but herself. 

~~~

Entering the locker room, Leah took a quick look around, the rest of the team nearly showered and changed out of their kits, save for you. 

Ignoring Lia and Katie’s questioning, the blonde walked over to her locker and began to get ready to shower.

Lucky that this was a home game, Leah knew she could take her time.

Taking a quick shower, she tried to casually wait for you to finish up- well aware that you were trying to drag out your own shower, hoping that you wouldn’t cross paths with your girlfriend (ex?- you didn’t really know.) 

The Gunner relented however, making up a lame excuse at Beth’s plea for her to join her on the walk out.

Patiently sitting, nearly alone in the locker room as she watched the rest of the girls file out, she waited. 

She waited as the patter of water ran longer than usual. 

She waited as she slowly heard it come to a stop, an eerie silence consuming the room.

She waited as you finally stepped out minutes later, wet hair tied in a messy but, club gear resting comfortably on your frame. 

She waited as you realized she was still here, eyes widening as a quiet fuck escaped your lips. 

Patience wearing thin now, she stood up, her own bag forgotten as she made her way to you. 

“Listen-“

You didn’t even let her finish though, instead cutting her off before another word could be said, your hand held between you to keep a distance. 

“Honestly? Save it.”

“No, but-“

Shaking your head, you slipped past her, beginning to quickly throw your dirty kit and toiletries into your kit bag.

Silence covered the room for a moment, only the noises of you angrily packing your kit bag to be heard. 

It didn’t last long however, timid words cutting through the tense atmosphere. 

“I’m sorry.”

You froze in your spot at your words, your sweaty jersey just barely dangling in your hands as you inhaled sharply.

Collecting yourself, you shook your head, Leah’s words meaning nothing to you. 

“Okay.”

The blunt, one word reply of yours hit Leah harder than she anticipated, this not at all how she was expecting this conversation to go.

Swallowing hard, she stepped around you, coming to a stop a short ways away, standing between the door and you. 

Wringing her hands nervously, Leah’s voice came out meek, eyes nearly downcast and heart pounding.

“Is that all you’re going to say?”

Laughing darkly at the other girl’s words, you stopped your movement again, turning around with your hands resting on your hips, a cold look in your eyes.

“What else do you want me to say?” Clenching your jaw, you gave Leah a blank look. 

“I-…”

Raising her eyes to meet you, the skipper straightened her back out, nerves rising as she took note of how rigid your posture was- how distant you were from her despite only being a few feet apart.

As you realized she wasn’t going to say anything, you decided to confront her on what had been on your mind throughout the second half of the game.

“You wanna explain what I heard at half-time? Because I’d really love to hear how you plan to spin this one on me this time…”

The deer-in-headlights look you got in return let you know she knew exactly what you were talking about.

At half time, just as the players were headed back in, a young fan had nearly begged Leah to sign her jersey. 

Never one to say no to a supporter of women’s soccer, much less of Arsenal and a young teen, Leah had quickly veered off, making small talk with the girl as she signed and posed for a photo.

Everything had been smooth sailing really, in fact, you watched the whole interaction with a smile on your face as you approached the tunnel.

Too bad good things never lasted.

Just as Leah had been ready to walk away from the stands, the young girl had innocently asked the question that had changed your whole mood.

The high pitched voice asking whether you and Leah were dating had easily carried over to you, repeating in your head since, a broken tape recorder you just couldn’t turn off.

What stuck with you however, was the Gunner’s response- the immediate scoff, zero hesitation or regret on her face as the words ‘absolutely not…she’s not my type’ escaped her. Words that were followed by a shrug and a cheeky grin that haunted you for the second half. 

You always had a feeling you weren’t good enough for her, your insecurity a topic of conversation for many nights in the past- nights where the blonde spent countless hours convincing and proving otherwise. 

Now though? Now it all felt like a lie- recollections of all those middle-of-the-night cuddles and hushed conversations making your heart heavy with the way her denial of your relationship came so quickly, so easily. 

Maybe this wasn’t meant to be, not as much you had wished it was.

Since the start of your relationship, when going out, whether it was with the team or just the two of you, Leah would distance herself from you, never sitting beside you even though she claimed you two were the bestest of friends. Choosing to be anybody else’s partner during media days. Hell, even going as far as standing on the opposite side to you during pre-match photos. And you’d be lying if you said it didn’t twist the knife in your chest just a little bit more each time that it happened.

If you were honest, you didn’t know how much bigger you could let the gaping wound get, unsure of whether your heart could handle another twist.

It’s why your next words physically hurt you to say, your voice quiet, its echo ringing in your ears.

“if you’re really that embarrassed of me, maybe we shouldn’t even be together…”

A shiver runs through your spine as you continue to look at Leah.

The admission feels heavy, the bright lights of the room unable to lift the somber mood in the slightest.

You can see a shuddering breath wrack her body at your words, and you can feel the distance between you two growing, mere feet feeling like hundreds of metres, goosebumps rising as the room grows significantly colder.

The reply comes slow, but the intensity, the anger, the defence in her voice at the words nearly knocks you back.

“It’s not like that…” 

The words are emotion laced, Leah’s head tilted to the side as her eyes search your face for any indication of what’s on your mind.

“Really? Then what’s it like? Is it just going to be you denying our relationship till the end? Is it just going to be you getting cozy with another girl and calling me clingy and overreactive? Is it just going to be you claiming you’ve done nothing wrong? Telling Lia that I’m going through something?” 

Shaking your head, a wry smile crossed your face. “Don’t be surprised- at least Wally cared enough to make sure I was doing okay, y’know? Something you haven’t asked me once.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me near you…” The timid admission had you shaking your head, displeased with her response.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, eyes closing as you tried to hold back your frustration, you spoke.

“Thats the issue Leah….you just don’t fucking know. You don’t know what you want. You don’t know how this relationship is going to work. You don’t know when you want to tell everyone we’re together. You don’t see how much it hurts me every time you deny that we are anything more than teammates, even friends! You just so happen to not know you’re breaking my heart each and every goddamn day!”

Chest heaving in frustration, you swallowed hard, you ears heating up in embarrassment of your outburst, eyes going everywhere but to the girl in front of you.

 It’s as you contemplate your next words that the blonde sees your anger turn to sadness, eyes dropping, shoulders sinking.

“You know what? I think- I think we’re done Leah.” 

Your voice was a whisper, the words strained, almost as if it cut you to say them.

“I can’t do this. I really can’t…”

“Wait no…”

You shook your head, barely any energy left in you. 

“How many times Leah? How many times are we gonna go back and forth like this? How long do I have to wait for you to get on the same page? It’s nearly been a year for fuck’s sake.”

Taking a deep breath, you grab your bag, your eyes firmly trained on the floor as you side step Leah and take off to your car, not once looking back.

If you had though, you would’ve seen the broken way the taller woman stood at the exit, eyes damp, body rigid in shock, fists clenched at her sides as she struggled to process what had just happened. 

Being snapped out of her daze at the slam of the door shutting by its own weight, the blonde came back to reality, the weight of your words finally sinking in. 

Swallowing hard as the alarm bells went off in her head, she turned on her heel, yanking the door open and running to follow you.

You are nowhere to be found though, she makes her way to the carpark, just to notice you pull out of your spot, not an ounce of hesitation in your actions. 

Hearing a pair of footsteps beside her though, ones that were most definitely not yours, Leah tensed at the thought of another person’s presence where you should be standing.

Glancing over to see Lia, the English captain tightened her jaw, closing her eyes in an unsuccessful attempt to hide just how broken she felt right now. 

“She told me to give this to you- said something about having an issue to attend to…” The words came out quiet from Lia, your set of keys for Leah’s home in her hold, dangling in the space between the two national captains, nearly mockingly.

Voice dropping an octave, Lia decided she had enough of the wait, eyes growing in concern at her counterpart’s disheveled look.

“Leah what’s going on between you two? She seemed pretty upset leaving…”

Swallowing, the Gunner knew she had her chance to come clean, to finally admit to herself that she hurt you, more than she ever thought she would.

Instead though, she didn’t- the idea of saying out loud that you left her too unbearably painful to speak into existence.

“I don’t know,” she shrugged instead, schooling her own expression into a somewhat relaxed one, “we didn’t talk much in the locker room, she seemed pretty stressed in there.”

Raising her eyebrows, Lia didn’t seem to buy it but she didn’t push and Leah didn’t know whether to feel relieved or not.

Grabbing the keys firmly from the Swiss’ hold, Leah turned towards the locker rooms once more, this time not bothering to wipe her tears as they fell, glad for the lack of footsteps behind her. 

With no idea as to where you went or when you would be back, she had no option but to wait and hope it would be soon- soon enough that she could rectify her mistakes and make you hers again- the best thing she ever had, gone, just like that.

~

(read part ii here)

[xiatarot]

pick a pile: how do they feel about you?

< choose an image >

for entertainment purposes only.

take what resonates, leave what doesn't. ♡

-

I.

your person sees you as someone that changed them for the better. communication with you for them has always been very introspective and your words and way of doing things always pushed them to become the best version of themselves. they see you as someone very kind and sweet, someone nurturing and full of love who likes to take care of the people in their life and make them happy. you make them feel very calm, i’m hearing ‘like coming back home after a long day at work’. they hold so much respect and admiration towards you. a lot of affection as well.

i’d be surprised if you and this person were in communication right now, because it seems like there’s distance between you two and a lot has been left unsaid. i don’t think this person has ever told you how they feel about you, i feel like they want to keep this hidden, so if they’re acting really distant and not communicating, that’s why.

they have a lot of anxiety towards this situation, because they want to come forward and open up their heart to you, but they might fear rejection or a situation that won’t go anywhere. i think that if they want to have something with you, they want it to be secure and long lasting. despite their fears, i do think they’re gonna come forward and very soon as well. they have a lot they want to say to you but as of now they’re still just daydreaming about it.

when they do come forward, they’re going to do it in a very lighthearted way, they might crack some jokes here and there or just act like they don’t care much, but they’ll be freaking out on the inside. they will want to test the waters first and then they might drop a bomb on you very unexpectedly, telling you how they truly feel. you might be caught off guard.

zodiac signs: taurus, leo, sagittarius

channeled song:

get your personal reading here: ♡

-

II.

your person definitely has romantic feelings for you, however i don’t think they’re ready to tell you that. you might be in the same friend group or have just known each other for a very long time, i’m hearing childhood friends. it seems like they’re scared to open up because they’re not really sure about how you feel and if they told you and you didn’t accept their feelings, things between you two would become awkward and they don’t want to lose the connection you two already have. if they want to come forward, they want to make sure that they’re not risking losing your friendship in the midst of it all.

they might’ve tried to open up to you in the past, maybe in a social setting, because i’m seeing them regretting not doing it and wondering how things would be now if they did. you’re really a dream come true to this person and inside of them they’re very determined to make your friendship more than just that but i think that when they see you all of their courage turns into weakness, and they let their insecurities and fears take over.

they might be putting a facade on, in order not to let you know how they truly feel, and that is hurting them deeply. they’re giving me a very frustrating energy.

you and this person could have had past lives together.

they might ask you indirect questions sometimes in order to understand if there’s a possibility of you reciprocating their feelings. i think the universe is kinda pushing them towards you so that you two can finally be together.

zodiac signs: aquarius, taurus, leo

channeled song:

get your personal reading here: ♡

-

III.

this person is fighting with their feelings right now. i feel like they do have strong romantic feelings for you but they’re just not ready to acknowledge them at the moment, so they’re trying to convince themselves that they don’t feel anything, but, big spoiler, they do, and it’s a lot. i feel a very very strong sexual energy, so if you were intimate with this person i feel like they just can’t get it out of their head. maybe they expected this to just be a physical thing, but it turned out they want more with you. this could be someone that’s not used to genuine romantic relationships and just prefers to keep things physical. could be a bit of a control freak too, and that’s why this situation is very frustrating for them.

they do want to open up and tell you about this but i feel like their ego is way too strong right now and they’re letting it lead them. they could be making up excuses as to why they can’t tell you about this or how things could go terribly wrong if they did. this person will have to figure out some stuff, do some shadow work and understand the reason why they act the way they do before they can commit to someone and have a healthy relationship.

they might be acting cold towards you and i wouldn’t be surprised if they ghosted you even. there’s a lot going on internally for them and i feel like you unconsciously triggered some stuff that they’ve been trying to suppress for a very long time.

as of now i don’t see them coming towards you in the near future because they need to work on themselves, and my advice for you would be to detach and just let things flow. focus on yourself and your needs and if this person is destined to be in your life, they will be when the time is right.

zodiac signs: leo, aquarius, gemini, libra

channeled song:

get your personal reading here: ♡

[mojogojocasahouse]

Just in Time Part I

Satoru Gojo x f!reader (Principal Gakuganji's daughter)

On the eve of a wedding of your father's arrangement, you call upon your reliable yet agitating old flame Satoru Gojo in an act of desperation and defiance

words: 4.7k content: infidelity (in an arranged marriage so does that even count?), smut, unprotected p in v, oral m-receiving, face fucking, rough sex, minor choking, spit kink, creampie, jealous!Gojo, protective!Gojo (moreso in part ii), minor degradation 18+ only

[9:37 pm] Are you busy?

[9:38 pm] Aw. Kamo family party not as lively as you’d hoped?

[9:38 pm] Just answer the question, Gojo.

[9:38 pm] Gojo is busy. Satoru on the other hand can be persuaded. 

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath, scanning the room again for anyone who might be taking an interest. Of course, no one seems to even remember you’re here at all.. 

[9:45 pm] Yes or no

[9:45 pm] What’s in it for me?

[9:45 pm] You’re joking

[9:46 pm] With all my options, why do I choose the Kamo bride tonight? Hmm? 

[9:50 pm] You’re a piece of shit. 

[9:51 pm] HARSH!! You’ve convinced me. Send me the address. 

[9:52 pm] Oh and tell daddy hi for me!

“Fuck you!” you hiss under your breath, sighing as you toss your phone back into the small bag you were carrying. 

Your history with Satoru Gojo has always been…tumultuous. It started in high school, as the daughter of the principal of the Kyoto branch, you sought him to get back at your father, Principal Gakuganji, and he’d been more than happy to oblige for the same exact reason. Exchange events had been less about competition and more about the time stolen in dorm rooms and behind buildings, far more than goodwill being spread. 

It had all come crashing down the day you turned 18. 

Not that there had been an air of commitment between either of you, but whatever physically beneficial relationship that had sprung up and the hopes that it would be more frequent after graduation were wiped away with one sentence. 

“You’re getting married,” your father had said, the Kamo boy from a year ahead of you smiling at his side. 

That was the day you’d realized you’d been nothing but a pawn from the day you’d been born. Despite being a Jujutsu sorcerer, you’d begged to go to university, prolonging the inevitable for as long as you could. Gojo had frequented your dorm room there, too, arriving at your door with his cock already stiff, you barely made it inside before you were on your knees, pulling him into your throat. 

Those years were as close as you got to happy. 

The Kamo clan had taken possession of you two years ago, and while meetings with Gojo became less frequent, they also grew more hostile. Satoru Gojo wasn’t known for his kind, warm nature, and his frustration in losing his favorite toy was on full display whenever you’d been able to get away from lackluster events and days of learning customs you couldn’t care less about; you were too weak to end it entirely with him. He made you feel too good, it was a reprieve from the life you faced day in and day out. But maybe it was just a different breed of nightmare. 

As things continued, you realized it wasn’t actually you that got his cock throbbing. It had always been the satisfaction of how much your father would hate Gojo being in your presence, never mind your bed. You felt the same, being with a man your father loathed above all else was just as thrilling to you. And now, on the evening of your arranged wedding, you’re standing outside a small sushi cafe in a misting rain waiting for a ride to the lavish Tokyo apartment Gojo uses for one thing only. You can’t help but wonder how many others have seen those barren walls. 

Typically, he sends a taxi service, letting you know the details of the car to look out for, but it’s been twenty minutes and you’ve received no information. 

[10:19 pm] You better not have fucking bailed on me. 

You hate how the thought makes your cheeks burn and your chest hollow in what you try to convince yourself is anger, but you know the truth. 

“Why would I bail on you!?” The sound of his voice yelling from his downed window has the muscles in your shoulders loosening. “You look ridiculous. What is that makeup?”

“Fuck you,” you spit at him, rounding the car to slide into the passenger seat, “Just go.”

“Well, aren’t you tense? What’s a‘matter? Already hating marital bliss?”

The disregard he displays about your impending doom digs under your skin. Your bladed gaze shoots over to him, you’d just noticed he was wearing his white bandages over his eyes still, the high collar of his uniform unzipped just enough to reveal the stretch of his throat you’d be decorating soon. 

“Were you working?” you ask, the hour a little strange for a teacher to still be on the clock. 

“Uh-huh,” he practically purrs, flicking through the songs quietly humming from the radio.

Well, that explains why he was the one that rolled up to get you. However, more dangerously you consider that he’d dropped what he was doing for you. 

“Seriously, what are you wearing?” he asks again with a chuckle.

“Shut the fuck—“ your retort was cut short by a long, slender thumb pressing down on your tongue, your lips locking around the digit and sucking instinctively. 

“I’m gonna tear it to shreds.” The whisper is almost menacing, and your core throbs at the husky tone and malicious intent. 

When you’d texted him, you knew tonight would be different. Tomorrow you’ll be signed away. Not that it will change your arrangement, at least you had no intention for it to, but it won’t be the same. It couldn’t be. You’ll be princess to the Kamo clan, officially, and while you find pockets to escape now, soon there will be hurdles even Satoru Gojo can’t leap over. 

“Did you have any trouble?” he asks as the car comes to a smooth halt at a red light, your lips pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb before he can pull it away completely and check whatever alert had just pinged his phone. 

“No,” you answer, turning your attention out the window.

In fact, the lack of resistance had given you pause. When you’d told your father you wanted to head home, he hadn’t even asked why. You’d already prepped the excuse of a headache and buzzing nerves, but he’d waved you off and returned to his conversation with one of the many Jujutsu society higher-ups in attendance. You hadn’t even bothered to check in with the man you were set to marry in just over twelve hours. Instead, you took the easy way out and ran.

The apartment is pitch black when you arrive, Gojo forgetting to turn the lights on as he throws his things onto the kitchen counter and heads straight to his fridge, grabbing a glass bottle of soda and sending the metal top skipping across the floor. Your eyes can’t help but try and follow it, even in the dark, the thud of Gojo’s hands slamming against the door behind you echoing in each of your ears. He’s centimeters away, his sweet strawberry breath huffing out against your lips, and your lungs seize up, your chest shaking with traitorous little gasps. It’s been almost ten years of this, and still, he leaves you quivering.

“I know what you wanna do.” His voice is smoother than melted chocolate, sweet and rich.

“You don’t know shit.” Maintaining this ruse is futile when your voice is trembling, but you try anyway.

“Oh? I think I know you best of all.”

He’s right, and the fact that he knows that has your stomach knotting. As he flashes that cocky, toothy grin there’s no helping the relief that floods through your body. The night had been tense, you’d been nothing but a stranger in a strange land, sat down and expected to abide by customs and etiquette that made you sick. It was a hierarchy, and you were the very bottom rung of the ladder, only there to push the others around you up higher towards their goals.

“You called me, remember?” he croons, backing away enough to have your body following his on pure instinct, “So come and take what you want. I’m all yours.”

For one last night. The leather of his belt is smooth as you grip it with one hand, yanking him back into you. He has a significant height advantage, but when you seek his lips he’s already curled himself down, the kiss you find solace in waiting for you. It’s sugary and warm, the soft cloth of his eye-covering pressing against your forehead as his palms swallow your sides whole, he’s learned the intricacies of your preferences in ways no one else ever would. He knows to tease you until your fingers thread through his hair, a gentle tug the welcome invitation to swipe his tongue along your swelling lower lip, but he’s also well aware you won’t take that step, but it’s one he’s always happy to leap into.

Snowy, white strands fall over the back of your hand as the bandages around his eyes loosen and drape over your noses, your nails still raking through the buzzed hair of his undercut and you know if you dared open your eyes, the infinite blue that the sky itself envied would greet you. Both your fingers and his work to pull the troublesome fabric free, his succeeding before threading with yours and pinning your hand above your head, the fraying edges of the cloth dancing against your hair as his pace picks up. 

Every inch of your body burns, the tight material of your assigned outfit suffocating and the room growing seemingly smaller around the broad shoulders in front of you. All you can smell is him as you search for the zipper of his jacket with your free hand, pulling it open and making quick work of the buttons of his overpriced shirt. His skin is smooth and cool to the touch, the peaks and valleys of his defined torso solid beneath your brushing fingertips. It takes all your concentration to keep up with him, he’s almost frantic, pushing you further and further into the wood behind you as his chest heaves until suddenly he pulls away. 

You’re left cold and buzzing in anticipation, his predatory gaze burning through you from where he stands just out of reach. 

“I want that off,” he mutters, low and menacing, his teeth gnashed together, and you know he isn’t talking about your clothes.

He’s faster than you are, his pointer finger and thumb gripping the gold ring on your left hand and tugging, the ping of the metal skittering across the floor after his haphazard toss in sync with the speed at which he claims your mouth once again. You knew he could feel it catching in his hair and grazing over his chest. Typically, you remembered to take it off prior to even stepping foot in his building, but today the surprise of Gojo himself pulling up to get you had sent everything out of whack. 

“Satoru,” you sigh, his appreciative groan from hearing his given name falling from your lips hitting where he was currently mouthing at your throat, “Satoru…”

You sound pathetic and you can't care less, he’s eating your blatant need for him out of the palm of your hand. He always does, and you wonder if he’s like this with everyone else who gets to see these walls. 

When your hand shoots to his belt, undoing the buckle and finding the button and zipper that’s keeping him contained you can feel the stretch of his smile against your neck.

“I win,” he croons, tugging his arms free of his sleeves as you push his pants and boxers down to his ankles. 

“I volunteer,” you correct as you sink to your knees, his finger keeping your chin in place and eyes on him as you drop down. 

Satoru usually won this little tradition, his hand diving between your legs first and claiming himself the “loser” as he spread your thighs wide and worked you on his tongue until he’d had his fill. Tonight, however, belonged to you, his cock thick and long as you ran your tongue along the underside, greedily collecting the small pearls that had already begun to leak from the tip. 

“Lookit me,” he slurs, mouth already hanging open as you keep his flushed head sitting on your tongue, “Good girl.”

His thumb rubs reverent circles on your jaw as he spits along his ridge, your mouth immediately locking around him and sucking him clean. With each bob of your head you take him a little deeper, your lips loudly suctioning around him as his head falls back in bliss and his shoulders drop from their tensed state. He sighs in relief, his thighs flexing beneath your hands when your throat constricts around the intrusion, your hair quickly knotting in his grip as he takes two steps forward, pinning you against the door. 

“Come on, princess,” he urges, pinching your chin, “don’t be a tease. Gag it down. All of it.”

It’s times like these when you remember the man towering above you is just a few criteria short of being a monster. Spoiled rotten and all-powerful—there is nothing the world could offer that was out of his reach. His confidence is otherworldly and earned, there is no task he isn’t proficient in, and in turn, you’ve always worked hard to stand toe-to-toe with him in all things. Even this. 

A wicked grin stretches across his face as he watches your expression morph into one of ire and determination, he knows how to push every button and pluck every string and he’s well aware of it. With your head firmly in his grasp, his hips start to move, his cock sliding over your tongue like silk as you try to force back the urge to wretch it out. Your eyes burn, tears sliding down your cheeks and mingling with the drool coating the lower half of your face, and he doesn’t relent, nor do you ask him to. 

“There we go,” he praises, yet your nose still hasn’t touched the thin patch of white curls that’s still an inch away, “Fixed that hideous makeup.”

He can tell that you need air, and he pulls himself free while still keeping you pinned by the hair, a string of spit connecting your gasping, swollen lips to the shining tip of his dick. He’s chuckling to himself at your haggard state, your lungs burning as they pull in the air that tastes like him. He bends, forcing himself to your eye level, his free hand thumbing at your gaping mouth.

“You’re such a whore,” he whispers, and it sounds like a compliment in his tooth-rotting, sweet tone, and he spits once again straight onto your tongue. 

“Prick…” you cough after swallowing down what he’d left, his high-pitched giggle echoing in the room as he stands back to his full height. 

“Well, you don’t come here cause I’m nice to you. Do you? Open up.”

Your response is a swift obeying of his command. 

“You like this kind of attention,” his tone is lower now.

Once again, you have to resign to the fact that he’s right. There’s no warning now, no preparation, just his cock slamming into your throat, and your eyes snap shut as you breathe through your nose. He reaches down to feel the bulging of his thrusts, being careful to not pinch off whatever airflow you may have just yet, his hum of approval shooting straight to your throbbing core. 

“And only I give it to you,” he finishes, your tongue laving out against his sack drawing out a whine, “Stay still.”

He knows exactly what you can take, moving his hips at a speed he knows won’t be too much and stopping when your mewling turns frantic, kissing your lips as you suck in air before returning to fucking your throat hard enough the door rattles on its hinges. You want to reach between your legs to relieve the ache that’s becoming unbearable, but you know he’ll scold you, prolonging any relief indefinitely. 

“And what would daddy think of you now?” he snarls, pulling out and smacking the side of your face with his cock, “When are you gonna stop letting that old man run your life?”

The question comes out of nowhere, shocking you enough to give you pause. His nostrils are flared again, and his chest heaving; he looks furious. He takes full advantage, a firm grip around your upper arm pulling you to your feet before he does exactly as he’d threatened, tearing your outfit off in one effortless tug. The question of what you’ll be going home in flits across your mind, but it’s background noise, drowned out by the confusion at his sudden uncharacteristic question and the oceans swirling in his eyes staring down at you.

“I hate what you do to me.” Words you weren’t sure you were meant to hear push the air from your lungs as he tugs you towards the bedroom, your feet following until your back hits the soft down comforter stretched across his bed. 

You want to contemplate what he means by that, but he doesn’t give you time. He’s nudging your legs apart with his knees, his cock flushed practically purple in his grip as he finds you dripping wet and ready for him. There’s nothing slow or gentle about the way he fills you in one hard thrust, his arms immediately pulling you upright and flush to his chest, your thighs trembling from the burning stretch between your legs as he lifts you slightly and lets you sink down onto him.

“You know, out of everyone,” he purrs, all signs of his previous anger neatly tucked away, “your pussy is still my favorite.”

Whatever of his anger had quelled now coiled in your belly at his words, and you shove at his shoulders, his unsuspecting body toppling over with a clumsy “oof!” as your knees straddle his thin waist. 

“Ohoo, ha! That makes you mad doesn’t it?” he taunts as you do your best to pin his wrists above his head with two hands, “That you have to share.”

It’s a thought that shouldn’t irk you in the slightest, but it makes your eyes flash green with envy. He doesn’t even flinch as you hold him in place despite how easily he could overpower you in less than a second. Tufts of white hair fan out around his head like a halo for a man anything but angelic, his hands wriggling free just enough to entwine his fingers with yours. You go from feeling in control to once again at his mercy as he cradles your palms in his, the gentle press of his lips to the point of your chin waking the butterflies in your stomach. There’s no reason for him to be this reverent, this intimate, he was spitting in your mouth just minutes ago, but he continues his soft path, your head turning to allow him to trace your jaw and find the sensitive hollow behind your ear.

“Now you know how I feel,” he breathes, and you clench around him as a shiver shoots down your spine.

The sharp point of his nose grazes along your skin and you’re twitching on him now, but you’re too content like this to move. He’s so close, you feel hypnotized, almost serene as you breathe him in and just feel him. The worst part is that he gives in, letting you have this tease of a moment, a flickering and fleeting ruse of something that will be ripped away. You like holding his hand, as it turns out, his grip is strong and delicate all the same, his fingers practically at the bend of your wrist. You’re just breathing each other’s air now, noses bumping as your eyes flutter closed, and part of you just wants to collapse and fall asleep.

“Am I still a prick?” he asks with a devious lilt.

“Yeah,” you confirm, but for reasons that aren’t entirely his fault.

“Hmm. Want me to be nice to you?”

Life will be easier moving forward if you refuse his offer, but before your train of thought catches up with the autopilot currently in control, you’d already nodded. 

The pillow is soft under your head as he flips you onto your back, your bodies still connected while he situates himself comfortably between your legs. With the first slow roll of his hips, a kiss to your forehead sends your knees into his ribs, his smile stretching across your dewy skin before he repeats it all over again. It’s cruel, and immediately you loathe the woman who has seen this side of him before you have. 

“You need to relax,” he commands, flicking his tongue out against your pursed lips, “Before you drive me insane. How long d’you think I can make it with you clamped around me like this, huh?”

“Aren’t you the strongest?” you sass in reply, trying to distract yourself, and he laughs.

“Most of the time.”

He’s found the angle that drives you mad, every drive of his cock hitting that spot deep inside you that inches you towards ecstasy. Your vision goes white around the edges, his lips still close enough to kiss but neither of you can focus enough to close the distance. At some point, your fingers had wound into his hair and his in yours, the muffled whines and gasping breaths escaping into the room more obscene than the guttural cries of his name of times past. This was raw, honest, desperate. He’s muttering obscenities as he tugs hard enough to have your scalp twinging, the sudden pressure of a hand clasping your throat dragging you up to the surface.

“I need you to…” He’s wrecked, sweat dripping down his temples, his hair stuck to his face, “I need you to come. I can’t…”

A reassurance that he can cut the act and do what he needs to is cut short by a blinding, white-hot wave surging from your middle outwards. Your nails seek to permanently indent their half-moon shapes into the marbled perfection of his back while your face buries in his neck. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but you can feel the vibration of his voice against your cheek until your senses begin to regulate, and it’s then you realize it’s a pleading whine of your name he’s been chanting like a prayer. 

Panic sets in, he looks like he’s in agony, his face twisting and eyes clamped shut but when your hands cup his jaw it melts away. A lazy kiss allows you both to settle, lips tugging and pulling, tongues brushing softly, and you can feel him softening inside of you as his cum and yours soaks your inner thighs and drips onto the bed. You want to know what he’s thinking, but his face is unreadable now, it’s almost as if he’s half asleep, opting to rest down on your chest for just a moment, his ear directly over your still-hammering heart.

There’s no time to decipher exactly what had just transpired. It’s better that way. He lifts you with ease and carries you to the shower, his fingers scrubbing your hair before he drops to his knees in front of you–a silent plea to return the favor. You take it slow, scraping over his scalp and combing through his thick locks until his head falls to your stomach. You stay until the water runs cold, not a word is said, and there’s no use in translating the silence. It doesn’t matter anyway. 

“Guess I didn’t think that through,” he chuckles as he passes you a t-shirt from his drawer, watching intently as you pull it over your head before focusing on the way the hem hits the middle of your thighs, “Maybe you’ll have to climb in through a window like the old days.”

The memory makes you smile. 

He’s in nothing but sweatpants when he walks out with a wink, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed with a towel in your hair. Once you leave this room he’ll call you a taxi, and then it’ll be tomorrow. So you sit there surrounded by everything that makes Satoru him. Empty soda bottles on the nightstand, mochi wrappers surrounding a half-empty trash can, his uniform for tomorrow folded and set neatly on a chair in the corner of the room beside the moonlit window, expensive watches he rarely wore, an array of sunglasses, and a single photo of him, Shoko, and Suguru Geto from their second year at Jujutsu High tucked back on the dresser like a relic he dares not move.

When you finally shake the lead from your feet and trudge into the kitchen, Satoru’s at the stove, music playing lightly from his phone on the counter, the symphony of the orchestral tune mixing with the sound of metal scraping on a pan. As you approach the table, he slides a plate across to you, your stomach rumbling at the sight.

“What’s this?” you squeak out, staring down at his offering.

“An omelet,” he states bluntly, flipping the one he’d started for himself.

It’s like an anvil has been dropped on your chest, the control on the tears that had been threatening to break free since he’d pressed worshipful kisses to your stomach in the shower waning. It’s insane that for a moment you consider he actually cares, the lack of common decency you’re shown in your daily life making every gesture grand, even something as simple as this.

“Do you…not like omelets anymore?” he asks, you hadn’t realized how long you’d been in a staring contest with your late-night snack.

“I do.” Your throat is closing in on itself and it’s becoming impossible to mask.

“Okay…”

Etiquette takes over, and you sit to take a bite of what he’s prepared for you, but the small piece you’ve cut off only makes it halfway to your trembling lips before it goes clattering down to the table. 

“What is–” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Why?” The question is much more harsh than you intend.

“Why what?”

“This.”

“Because your stomach has been gurgling since I picked you up. It’s annoying. And you said you wanted me to be nice to you.”

You can’t help the knowing laugh that snaps you both out of whatever daze you’d been trapped in. Your appetite ducks and runs once again and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. It’s all part of the act; he could be whatever it was you wanted, all you had to do was ask as long as the request wasn’t honesty. If he won’t call you a cab, you can get one yourself, and you find your discarded bag on the counter on the other side of him, but of course, he blocks your path.

“What is your problem?” The concerned furrow of his brow almost makes this all believable, like he can feel remorse.

Footsteps coming up the sidewalk catch not only your attention but his, and although he slips around you to separate you from whatever lies on the other side, his arm held out to keep you safely pressed behind him, your anger has already taken over.

“Have I overstayed my welcome?” you snap, shoving at the barrier of infinity he’s activated.

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Is your next visitor here? It is a Friday, I’m sure you’re busy.”

“Tch. I was working before I dropped everything to come rescue you. Left poor Megumi to finish the job on his own.”

“As if you couldn’t have just done it yourself.” You mimic the way he unleashes that destructive purple technique, flicking against his invisible wall right behind his ear with your middle finger, “Just let me leave–”

“With no pants? Good luck.”

The color drains from your face when it isn’t a woman’s voice heard on the other side of the door, but a very familiar one. Three raps of a wooden cane echo through the palpable silence, your body going rigid in terror as the sound of your pulse turns deafening.

“What did you do…” you mutter under your breath, backing away from Satoru who’s playing the part of shocked exceptionally well, “What the fuck did you do?”

“What did I do?!” he responds in a hushed, frantic whisper.

“You called him.”

“Of all the stupid conclusions you’ve had in your life!”

“Gojo!” your father’s voice echoes through the room, “GOJO!”

Part II is almost done! Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs=love

{{Masterlist}}

[wileys-russo]

going the distance II unc!a.russo x reader

as always unc!era remains god tier, based on this request

going the distance II unc!a.russo x reader

"-and you're sure she doesn't know?" you asked lotte for the tenth time who rolled her eyes. "yes i'm sure! have i ever lied to you?" the brunette chuckled, keeping a careful eye out as she ushered you through the campus.

you'd met your girlfriend when you were sixteen at a house party, she'd gone along with a few of her under nineteen national team after a big win and the cheers the small group had gained as the entered captured your attention.

you'd known lotte for years having grown up a few houses down from her your families had become quite close, though once things with football became more serious you'd seen less of her still at school yourself.

so quickly making your way over for a hug and hello was when she'd introduced you to a few of her friends, alessia a little tongue tied around you much to her friends amusement as she seemed to follow you around all night not unlike a lost puppy.

you'd exchanged numbers and hung out a few times. her crush on you was anything but subtle as you finally grew inpatient of waiting for her to make a move after weeks of pining and made one of your own, catching her off guard.

from then on her confidence grew as did your feelings for one another and the rest was a story she loved to tell people at any chance she was given, especially now that you both lived in separate countries and were doing long distance.

which lead to right now as lotte let herself into her dorm room, ushering you inside with a worried look around, knowing alessia was due over anytime now. it was the final game of the season, the championship, and you'd lead alessia to believe you'd not be able to be there for it.

your own university had broken up last week despite you lying to your girlfriend of almost two and a half years now that you had another fortnight of exams and wouldn't be able to come and support her, which she was gutted by but made sure not to show this to you knowing your own education wasn't any less important than hers.

you'd come and seen her in north carolina a few times now though rarely while she was mid season given your university semester dates seldom allowed you to, and you relished in the few weeks every term break where she was back home and the two of you fell into your old routine together.

distance does make the heart grow fonder but the small lapses in it where you were back together again just meant leaving one another and going back to having that distance was so much harder, and it hurt a lot for the first few days adjusting back into it.

the blonde was by nature incredibly hard to surprise, always working out your plans before you had a chance to even try much to your growing frustrations and her insistence that it was an 'accident'.

so spurred on by her family you'd concocted this plan and roped lotte in to help, alessia's own family were due to touch down in a few days time and you'd stay with them for the most part but lotte had pulled some strings with the coaches that would mean you could stay with alessia at the uni for a few days beforehand.

but first, came the seemingly simple task of surprising her with your presence. however you knew nothing was that easy with the stubborn striker and the lack of contact from you for a couple of days as you'd flown over was sure to have raised her suspicions.

you'd even gone as far as to memorise the time differences, making sure you weren't texting her as you normally would once you touched down, since you were supposed to be sleeping.

you'd excused your lack of contact and drawn it down to your need to study for the exams which didn't really exist, alessia being understanding as usual though you knew from chatting with lotte on the way back from the airport that your girlfriend had been miserable.

"get in the closet."

"what?" you gave the taller brunette a bewildered look as she opened the door, dropped your bags down and gestured inside. "lotte!" you huffed, this not a part of the original plan.

"you want to surprise her right? you can jump out and scare the living daylights of her, very romantic." lotte grinned gesturing again for you to get inside.

"i came out of the closet three years ago wubben-moy, this feels slightly homophobic." you huffed as she shoved you playfully and you stepped inside, hurriedly closing the door as knocks sounded on the other one.

your heart rate accelerated hearing your girlfriends voice as she entered the room, knowing she was only a few metres away after not seeing her in person for months now.

"lotte why do i have to help you catch up? you're normally so on top of your assignments this is very unlike you." you heard alessia groan and the squeak of a mattress meaning she'd likely collapsed onto the bed, and you could very near imagine the bored look which would be etched in her features.

"oh its not me who needs help with their studies." lotte stated and you heard her knock twice on the cupboard door signally you were good to go. "what the hell do you mean its not-"

"surprise!" you shouted as you barelled out of the closet, both you and lotte grinning as alessia jolted up and very near went flying off the edge of the bed as she just caught herself.

"can you help me study for my exams please babe?" you smiled, a flash of blonde flying toward you and you laughed as her hands hooked under your thighs hoisting you up into a bone crushing hug, your legs wrapping around the taller girls waist.

"surprise, finally got ya russo." you chirped with a grin, softening as you wiped a few stray tears from the corner of her eyes. "baby don't cry." you laughed, hugging her tightly and running a hand through her hair, winking at lotte who was filming a few feet away.

"but you were-and then you said-but you had to-don't you have-" the striker rambled out among her sniffles, hopelessly lost and most definitely shocked as she struggled to even get out a sentence.

"i know, might have told a few white lies love but in my defence you are incredibly hard to surprise. so nosy!" you teased, your girlfriend placing you back down on your feet and pulling you in for another hug, your face pressed into her shoulder as she clung onto you as if worried it was all some sort of dream.

"are you really here right now?" "i'm really here right now, and you've got me all to yourself till we fly home for spring break."

"seriously!" alessia's eyes widened even further as her lips finally curled into a shit eating grin. "if thats okay?" you clarified, not entirely sure of her schedule as her head nodded about a million miles per hour, grin somehow widening even further.

"alright lovebirds it was a pleasure to help meddle in this little plan but i don't fancy a live show of you 'catching up' so please, exit stage left!" lotte smiled, opening her door and waving for the two of you to leave.

you tried to grab your bags but your girlfriend had them all in her hands before you could even try. "shut up." the blonde smiled shutting down your protests, sweetly kissing your cheek a few times as lotte jokingly gagged and your stomach fluttered at even just the brief sensation of her lips against your skin.

"less let me just take one!" you laughed as she struggled, shifting your duffle on her shoulder so she could free up a hand to grab yours, the two of you mostly you, hugging lotte goodbye as you departed for alessia's own room which was only luckily just down the hall.

you'd been here before so there wasn't any need for a tour, just time to make up for as your girlfriend jutted out her hip and nodded for you to grab her room keys from her pocket. unlocking the door the two of you hurried inside, alessia dropping your bags the moment it clicked closed again.

"god i missed you." she exhaled shakily and within seconds her hands were on your hips and your body was being pulled flush into hers, her head dipping to connect her mouth to yours as your knees nearly buckled from the breathless passionate kiss you were rewarded with.

"missed you more." you mumbled against her lips, hands resting on her cheeks as she pulled the two of you to sit down on the edge of her bed, never breaking the kiss for even a second.

"hi." you finally pulled away, pressing your forehead against hers. "hello gorgeous." the blonde beamed, unable to keep the smile off her face as you wrapped your arms around her neck and the two of you collapsed with a laugh back into the mattress.

"you really had no idea at all?" you questioned, slotting your legs between hers as she firmly shook her head. "not a single bit. i was moping alot because we weren't talking much, lotte told me i was becoming insufferable to be around." the striker pouted which you made quick work of kissing away, grinning at the slight blush which coated her cheeks afterwards.

"now thats hardly a championship winning attitude baby." you smiled in amusement as again she perked up, pushing herself up to rest on one elbow. "you'll be here for the game!" alessia realized excitedly, flopping down on top of you and peppering your face with kisses as you laughed and pushed her off.

"you can wear one of my jerseys, i'll braid your hair, you can sit with my family and- wait do they know you're here too?" your girlfriend rambled on as you nodded. "sure do. honestly shocked neither one of your brothers let it slip, they're just as bad as you are with surprises." you teased with a grin.

"its a russo family curse i'm afraid my love." "what to be hopelessly nosy?" "hey!"

~

"less!" you laughed, trying to take a seat as your girlfriend slid her body left and right, blocking you at every opportunity as she patted her thighs expectantly.

"only one seat left i'm afraid, sorry babe." the striker grinned, wrapping her arms around your torso and pulling you down to sit on her lap as you rolled your eyes. "are they always like this?" one of her teammates katie asked lotte who hummed as alessia smacked her shoulder.

"don't be jealous now girls." the blonde winked as you sighed dramatically causing her to playfully pinch your side. "hey we're hardly jealous, its your little love bubble which caused you to be late which means you're running the beep test solo this afternoon at training." katie smirked as your girlfriend groaned loudly, forehead thumping into your back.

"i would like the jury to know that it was not my fault and i tried for a half an hour to encourage her to get up and out of bed but she refused." you spoke loudly as lotte smacked her fist on her textbook like a judges gavel proclaiming your innocence.

"i'm not a morning person and i don't understand why we have to go for a team run at 6am in summer!" alessia huffed as you twisted around and played with the rings on her fingers absentmindedly.

"that doesn't sound very team orientated of you captain russo." you smirked, katie cheering and giving you a high five as you felt your girlfriends glare burn into the back of your head, stretching around to smile and peck at her lips.

"you should come watch, see your girlfriend all sweaty and hot." madeline another one of her teammates grinned from beside lotte. "more like puffing, panting and on the ground half dead. its boiling out there and again need i remind less; beep test." katie added on as alessia groaned even louder, squeezing you tightly.

"i'll be sure to bring a video camera." you nodded eagerly, her teammates roaring with laughter as your girlfriend continued her whining, disappointed when no one took her side or agreed to her plan to try and get out of the beep test, all of them having been up and ready in the morning and lacking in sympathy.

luckily for alessia given that it was so close to the championship training was a closed afair so she'd left you to occupy yourself in her dorm room, almost making herself late again as she'd insisted on about a hundred kisses goodbye.

"alessia you'll be done in a few hours and i'll be right here, you're not off to fight a war love get out!" you laughed pushing at her chest as she puckered her lips for another kiss, sighing dramatically and blowing you one final kiss as she raced out the door.

arriving luckily with just a few seconds to spare she saved herself any further punishment, the solo beep test enough of a grueling humiliation as the rest of her team sat with ice vests and water bottles on the sideline cheering her on.

finally making it to the last level alessia could run no more, collapsing onto her back and covering her eyes with her arm, nodding along to her coaches words and heeding the warning if she blew off a single training she'd be benched and stripped of the captains armband.

though it seemed harsh she knew it was fair and that as captain she needed to step up and set a good example, her team mates helping her up and strapping an ice vest on, helping her to sit down and chug a powerade as everyone stretched and chattered about the weekends match.

finally dismissed the girls dragged themselves off the pitch, alessia practically peeling herself off the bench, grabbing their bags and all reminded firmly that there was to be another 6am run tomorrow and everyone was expected to show at 5:45am sharp.

now she could breath and somewhat walk again the teasing began, alessia taking it all on the chin as slowly the girls branched off in small groups heading for their respective dorm buildings and agreeing to meet up later to do dinner together and some team bonding, a subtle request from the coaching staff.

hearing alessia's key turn in the door she'd opened it before you could even stand, sat with your feet propped up on her desk reading a book. "hey baby." you greeted her happily, a grin curling onto your lips at the disheveled sight of her.

"how was the beep test?" you teased as she dropped her bag and kicked her slides off by the door, collapsing to lay down on the floor with a deep sigh. "that fun huh?" you laughed spinning around in her chair, still adjusting from the english cold you were certainly feeling the heat yourself. so you couldn't even begin to imagine running around in it for a few hours like alessia had been.

"go shower lessi, you'll feel much better." you encouraged, poking her limp form with your foot as she whined and pushed it away. "too hot to move." alessia mumbled, patting the floor beside her clearly expecting you to lay down with her.

"not till you shower, i can smell you from here." you smirked, an u impressed glare sent your way as your girlfriend slowly got up to her feet with a groan of pain. "thanks for your sympathy babe." she grumbled as she did.

"alessia!" it was now your turn to groan as she wrapped herself around you, her skin sticking uncomfortably to your own. "get off you're disgustingly sweaty." you moaned trying to wrench her hands off to no avail.

"didn't you miss me baby? honestly you're so rude." she mumbled into your neck making you roll your eyes. "are you studying?" she frowned at the book in your hands. "no! some of us like to just read...for fun." you smacked her forehead with the book.

"mmm my smart pretty girl, soon to be a lawyer!" alessia grinned wolfishly, pecking your lips and gratefully peeling herself off of you. "more like in three more years baby but thank you for your support." you chuckled.

"i still tell everyone my girlfriends studying law, very very very proudly." alessia beamed, hovering over you as she held herself up, hands gripping the arms of the desk chair you were sat in.

"as i tell everyone my girlfriend is going to win gold for england in the next olympics, very very very proudly." you smiled up at her, both your eyes shining with adoration. "that medal will be going right around your neck baby, my good luck charm." alessia mumbled as she pressed her lips to yours, you pushing her away before she could go any further.

"go shower! then we can makeout." "or we could shower together and makeout." "well women are supposed to be good at multi tasking right?" "mm exactly love. so lets go prove their point then."

~

"that was pathetic! you can do so much better than that." alessia laughed, effortlessly stopping the ball with her foot and shaking her head. "you're supposed to be coaching me here not insulting me!" you huffed crossing your arms with a pointed stare.

"i have told you over and over how to kick it, i can't kick it for you baby." alessia grinned, rolling the ball back to you as you sighed, smiling sarcastically as she commended your trapping it.

the two of you were messing around kicking a ball on a spare pitch she'd been given access to as captain, having accompanied your girlfriend for her afternoon workout, even joining in much to her utter delight.

though you knew really alessia only encouraged it so that she could have her hands all over you in nothing but a pair of bike shorts and a sports bra as she 'helped you' use all the equipment as if you'd never stepped foot in a gym before, but hardly disliking her hands all over you you played into it.

for a cool down she'd suggested the two of you kick a ball around, the sun setting the perfect backdrop for you to agree as you'd spent more time taking photos than playing any form of football as your girlfriend has confiscated your phone.

"football is your thing not mine!" you huffed as again your shots were all easily blocked by your girlfriend in goal. "okay now i'm going to defend and you have to get past me and shoot, no one to stop you scoring once you do. easy!" alessia stepped forward as you grabbed the ball and placed it by your feet.

"give me your worst babe."

of course, even your very worst was no match for the footballer between you, alessia taking the ball off you with ease every single time.

"ref! where's the ref! contact!" you yelled as your girlfriends arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off the ground, carrying you easily in one arm as she expertly flicked the ball into the back of the net.

"referee! obstruction!" you laughed, alessia throwing you over her shoulder as she pumped her arms up in victory, spinning the two of you around before collapsing to the ground and taking you with her.

"dirty cheat, you've been in america too long!" you laughed, moving so your head was resting on her bare stomach, both of you just in shorts and sports bra's as the thick summer heat was pelting down even as the evening ascended.

"russo! clear off please the juniors have to train!"

~

"-and then my mum said they're already headed over with some of the other families so to meet them at the field." your girlfriend informed as you hummed, her head laid in your lap as you sat against the headboard of her bed.

"we should really get going love, you're starting to cut it fine." you reminded with a smile, chuckling as she sighed and buried her face in your stomach. "i'm nervous."

"what?" you frowned, not quite hearing her with her face smushed into your top. "i'm nervous." she sighed, sitting up and moving so she was beside you, your hand quickly grabbing hers.

"thats to be expected baby this is a big game. but you've played big games and all you can do is give it your best and no one can ask anything more of you!" you stated firmly, moving so you were straddling her lap and grabbing her face in your hands.

"you are a phenomenal brilliant passionate talented footballer lessi, you've already played for your senior national team three times and you're only twenty. thats huge!" you traced her jaw with your thumbs as she nodded.

"you're the captain of this team for a reason and i have not a shadow of doubt one day you're gonna be captain of england. this is that first step you have to take toward it, next up is the euros and the olympics and the world cup, onwards and upwards. but for now you need to go out give 100% and inspire your girls to do the same! you're going to win this and lift that championship trophy, i know you are." you promised.

"can you repeat that? i'm going to need to write it down and give it as my captains speech." the blonde joked though you were relieved to see the tension in her shoulders ease a little at your words. "i love you. i am so fucking happy you're here and you have no idea how much it means to me." alessias hands caressed your thighs with a gentle squeeze.

"i love you more, my star girl."

~

"i have to say the pink tape wrap headband she's rocking is something new, is that an american thing?" gio tutted as you rolled your eyes and pushed him, luca mumbling to focus on the game as the match ticked down to its final minutes, unc ahead by just a singular goal they'd well and truly parked the bus.

"this is it, this is the last play." you exhaled shakily as the injury time ran out and the opposition gained a corner. "i can't watch." you shook your head, covering your face with your hands as alessias mum carol rubbed your back with a chuckle on your other side.

you peeked through a crack in your fingers as there was a thump and the baill sailed through the air, a sea of players decked out in both baby blue and red pushed and shoved one another desperate to make first contact.

it was the opposition who got the first touch, smacking the ball at goal as it just grazed the keepers fingers and there was a sharp inhale from the home support, no one uttering a word.

but as the body of players parted it revealed the unc goalkeeper did make the save, curled up around the ball as the whistle blew for full time and there was a thunderous roar as everyone around you all leapt to their feet with whistles, screams, claps and cheers.

you jumped about and hugged alessia's family and friends, watching on with a heart swelled up with pride as your girlfriend raced around the field with her team.

"thats your cue!" gio nudged you as she appeared at the barrier grinning up at you, ignoring her brothers making kissy faces as mario told them off and you made your way down toward her.

"told you you could do it." you beamed as you hung over the barrier, your girlfriend pulling you into a hug as you whispered her praises into her ear, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"proper one for the winner?" the blonde grabbed your jersey in her fists with a grin, tugging your lips to meet her own as you kissed her, cheeks flushing red at the wolf whistles from her team mates who alessia flipped off without even needing to break the kiss.

"my winner."

[perlelune]

Dollhouse | Rafe Cameron | ii.

The moment your mother marries Ward Cameron should have been the moment your life changes for the better. A fresh start out of the Cut for the both of you. And for the first seven years of living with the Camerons, everything truly is perfect.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Pogue!Reader, Stepcest, Secret Relationship, Manipulation, Jealousy, Drugs, Drinking,

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

You let your fingers wander over the edge of the car window, a big smile spread across your face. The gentle breeze flutters across your skin and birdsong fills your ears. You bask in the warmth of the sun and the comfortable feeling sitting inside your chest. The morning was spent visiting the university you’ll be joining in the coming fall. You were given a tour of campus and all the historical buildings you’ll get to wander through soon. It filled you with anticipation, getting that brief glimpse into college life. You’ve been in Outer Banks your whole life and while it’s pretty much a paradise, you’re looking forward to experiencing something new and exciting.

Dad insisted on driving you since you don’t have your license yet. The two of you constantly got wrapped in animated chatter on the way to and from campus. While it’s hard for Ward to watch one of his baby birds leave the nest, you appreciate how supportive he’s been overall. After long hours coaxing him with Mom of course. Dad was skeptical at first. He even suggested you take a gap year to mull it over, like Sarah did. But you and Sarah are like the sun and moon. She’d be the sun of course. While your big sister is content running off with the Pogues on wild adventures and setting aside college for now, you can’t picture yourself doing that. You’re a Cameron, but you’re not Sarah Cameron. With her sweet disposition and golden mane, your sister could probably get away with murder by batting her lashes and flashing her signature sunny grin. Things are different for you. Very different. You haven’t forgotten where you come from, much as everyone in the family pretends you’re just as quintessentially Kook as the rest of them. 

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you pivot to Ward.

“Thanks for driving me, dad.”

He beams, his blue gaze drifting away from the road as it lands on you.

“No problem, sweetheart. It’s an amazing school. Great program. Campus looks good too. I know you’ll fit right in.”

A wave of warmth blows through you. “Thanks.”

Sighing, you turn to the epitome of gloom and petulance in the backseat. His arms are folded over his broad chest, his irate blue eyes glued to the window. Your brother’s been cranky all morning. Any trivial inquiry or mundane remark set him off. He barely uttered a word to Dad and graced you with nothing but stubborn silence. It’s blatant he isn’t handling the prospect of your imminent absence well. The silence concerns you a little though. Rafe isn’t one to chew his words or swallow them. So whatever resentment he harbors about your decision to go away for college must run deep. It casts a veil of despondency upon an otherwise wonderful day. 

Of all people, you’d expect your big brother to support you the most. 

His sour-faced demeanor never relents, even when Ward stops the car in front of Tannyhill. Dad sighs as he parks the truck. He’s already lectured Rafe twice on the way back. You note the disappointment etched on his face, the way he squares his shoulders and readies him to march towards his son and lash out at him again. You put your hand on his shoulder and shake your head. The last thing you need is your brother and father at each other’s throat again. It’d be nice to linger in the exhilaration the campus left you with a little longer. 

“It’s fine, dad. Let me talk to him,” your say. 

Dad’s shoulders sag. He yields, heading inside the house and leaving you with Rafe. You lean next to him on the truck, head tilted in concern. 

“Hey…You haven’t said a word since we came back. What did you think?” 

When he fails to reply, his face taut, your frustration swells. “You’re the one who insisted on coming.”

It’s when he snaps, the vein in his forehead pulsing. He swivels to you. 

“I just don’t understand why you have to go to a school so far from us, y’know? A five hour drive, really?”

Your brows crumple to a frown.

“Rafe…”

He cuts you off with a mirthless laugh, annoyance flashing in his blue eyes. “And the way you kept gushing about college parties and college boys…” His jaw ticks. “I just don’t like it.” 

Rafe pauses, licking his lips and humming as if lost in the depths of reflection. “I think…”

When he trails off, you urge him to go on, impatience clear in your tone, “What do you think?”

He shrugs before casually stating, “I think you’re gonna land yourself into trouble like the airhead that you are and come crawling back home.”

Your face comes ablaze at his words. You punch his shoulders as tears rush to your eyes.

“You can be such a jerk sometimes.”

You stomp away from him, ire radiating from you in waves. He catches up to you with ease. An apology creeps on his face, his fingers clasping around your arm.

“Wait, princess.” 

He impedes your path, forcing you to halt in your tracks. He puts a hand on his chest, his expression earnest. 

“Look I’m just trying to look out for my little sister here, okay?” A hint of sadness seeps through his tone. “I thought you at least appreciated that.”

Your shoulders slump. 

“I do, Rafe, but…I’ll be gone soon. I need you to accept it.”

“I just think it’s too soon.”

“Rafe, I’ll visit. So often that you guys will get sick of me,” you say, your tone reassuring.

The suggestion does little to assuage him, his eyes rolling in annoyance. 

“You could take a gap year like Dad said. It wouldn’t be a big deal. You’re a Cameron.”

You nibble your bottom lip. You’re keenly aware Rafe will abhor the words bubbling in your throat before they even leave your mouth.

“Well, not exactly...”

He snickers. “It’s those Pogues…they got in your head, didn’t they?”

Your brows furrow. In your brother’s eyes, everything’s always a Pogues’ fault. He’s never been too fond of the fact that you still hang out on that side of the island sometimes. The phrase ‘You’re a Kook now princess, act like it.’ has left his mouth a numberless amount of times in the past seven years whenever he found you drifting a little too far from the family.

“What? It’s got nothing to do with my friends, Rafe,” you retaliate. 

Your gazes clash, a silent war of unwavering wills as your brother looms over you. He works his jaw and unleashes a long exhale. 

“So you’re just gonna leave us? It’s final?”

Reluctance drips from your clipped tone. “Yeah, it’s final.”

“I see.”

He gives a sluggish nod of acknowledgement before rushing inside the house.

You trail behind him, panic fluttering through your chest.

“Rafe…”

His back remains turned. Your stomach sinks, his staunch ignorance driving a blade through your heart. The last thing you want is to be away from Rafe, away from your family. But college matters to you. Why can’t he see that? 

Mom stands by the counter, dumbfounded by Rafe’s furious stride up the stairs. 

“What’s gotten into him?”

A deep sigh ripples through your lips as you meet Mom’s concerned stare. “You know Rafe…”

You turn to her.

“You wanted to talk to me, mom?”

She beams at you. You straighten your spine. 

Mom texted you on the way back. She mentioned Sarah would be here too, causing your suspicions to hit a peak.

Nearly every talk with Mom devolved into a firm reminder to behave in a manner befitting a Cameron, befitting Ward Cameron’s daughter. Your mother’s foot never eased off your neck in the last few years. 

Nothing besides perfection is allowed.

Perfect grades. Perfect smile. Perfect behavior. Not a single blight or misstep shall ruin the blended nuclear family image Mom and Ward strive to project. Dad might be more subtle about it, but you know his expectations of you align with Mom’s. 

Whenever Sarah slackens, the burden passes on to you. You’re supposed to set an example for Willa and Wheezie to follow.

Mom glances between you and Sarah, the latter already sitting on a stool by the counter. It’s clear your sister would rather be anywhere but here. Likely hanging out with John B or some other fun thing. “To both of you, actually.”

You and Sarah exchange a look, one you have countless times before. The quiet acceptance that you’re both about to be lectured by Alice Cameron.

Resigned, you plop down in the stool next to Sarah’s. 

Excitement oozes off Mom’s voice as she starts speaking. 

“You remember when I told you about the Calliopean Society Debutante Ball?”

Sarah’s lips twitch as she tamps down a grin. “You mean the one you’ve been massively subtle about?”

It’s true. For months, Mom has dropped heavy hints regarding her desire to see both you and Sarah become debs. Even amongst Kooks, being picked to represent the institution is seen as the highest honor. Only a handful of young women from prestigious families in North Carolina are picked, ones whose families have made significant contributions to the county. 

A series of events antecedes the ball, including but not limited to Midsummers, a variety of tea parties and galas. The whole thing is archaic at best and cringeworthy at worst. 

You’ve tried to get Mom to relinquish the idea of you joining it. But she’s been relentless. The symbol of status it epitomizes isn’t something she’ll let go off so easily. 

Not when she’s tried to make everyone on Figure Eight forget where she comes from. Mom would do anything to bury any hint of her past as a Pogue.

You bump Sarah’s elbow, berating her with a frown, “Sarah.”

She chuckles and stands a bit straighter. 

Mom sighs at her antics, her forehead creasing.

“Girls. I need you to focus.”

“Sorry, Mom.”

“Sorry, Alice,” Sarah echoes.

Mom marks a dramatic pause, causing dread to tickle your insides. If she’s this excited, it’s almost a given that you won’t be.

Indeed, her next words confirm your inkling.

“Well, I managed to slip in both of your names in the short list while attending the Midsummer’s committee,” she says.

You wince. “Mom…why would you do that?”

Her elation doesn’t waver. “They’ve never had a young woman like you in their ranks and they’re trying to be more open-minded this year.”

“Mom, this is old-fashioned and gross. The girls are presented like broodmares to be sold.”

Her brows knit. “That is not what this is. Being chosen is an honor.”

Sarah rolls her eyes and you purse your lips. Mom squints at you, folding her arms.

“I want you two to participate in all the events leading up to it.”

Sarah blinks in disbelief. “Come again?”

“Isn’t Midsummer enough?” you refute. 

It’s bad enough you’re not given much of a choice in attending the stuffy event. The fact that Mom wants you and Sarah to take it one step further is wild.

“Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your place, sweetie?” she laments, looking straight at you. “It’ll be an opportunity to bond with young ladies your age.”

This doesn’t stir you. You doubt you have much in common with the kind of girls picked out as debutantes. This was probably the same crowd you’ve exerted great effort in avoiding at the Kook school. 

“Kie will be there too, but only if you go,” you specify.

This catches your interest, mostly because of how absurd that statement is. You’re pretty sure Kie would likely chop off an arm before agreeing to be a debutante, even if you did it too.

Sarah’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.

“Kie? No way, you’re making this up.”

A mischievous smile unfurls on Mom’s lips.

“Well, it wasn’t easy to get her to agree but her father threatened to stop paying for her unlimited data plan.”

Oh so it’s like that? Kie’s parents resorted to blackmail. Makes sense. You just can’t picture your rebellious friend agreeing to this without an incentive. You surmise threatening to cut off her only means of constant communication with the Pogues might sway her mind a bit. 

“Yeah that…tracks.”

“Can you do it, please?”

Your shoulders sag. “Mom, I really wished you stopped trying to impress those women. You do realize they’ll always look at us the same way, no matter what we do.”

Mom’s face dims at your words. An instant wave of guilt fills you. You should have kept your mouth shut. She tosses her hands in the air.

“Fine. I never ask you girls for anything, but okay.” She starts frantically cleaning the kitchen, loud clangs echoing as she grabs random pots and pans from the oven and cabinets. “When I was your age…” You suppress an eye roll. Here we go. You and Sarah trade a knowing glance. Anytime she starts a sentence that way, you know you’re doomed. “I’d have killed to get an opportunity like this...” 

Mom continues rambling about how privileged and spoiled you and Sarah are, how she was never given those kinds of chances. She mentions her rough upbringing and hammers in the sacrifices she made to raise you. She reminds Sarah all the times she showed up for her and that she loves her the same way a mother would. You spot the exact moment your sister breaks. By the end, the guilt both Sarah and you feel is palpable, its weight clogging the air. 

“Ugh…Fine, we’ll do it,” Sarah relents.

Mom’s sour face immediately shifts to a triumphant expression.

As the evening rolls around, the sky shifting to duskier hues, an unexpected presence slips through your bedroom door. 

You sit up, your pink headphones tumbling down to your neck. 

“Rafe!” you exclaim, eyes widening in astonishment.

A lopsided smirk unfolds on his face at your reaction. He slowly closes the door and strolls to your bed. The mattress bounces when Rafe tosses himself on it. He drags his fingers along your sheets for a while, the golden family ring on his finger glimmering dully. You wait anxiously with your legs crossed.

After what seems an eternity, blue eyes swing upward as he sighs.

“I’m sorry I was a jerk earlier,” he blurts out. He licks his lips and holds your gaze, his fingers wandering to your knee. Rafe’s deep voice lowers, oozing sadness. “I just know everyone in this house will drive me crazy if you’re not there.”

“There’s always Sarah.”

That draws a burst of laughter from him. He shakes his head.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”

Your face breaks out in a grin. Throughout the years, it’s always staggered you how different the dynamic between you and Rafe is different from his relationship with Sarah. Everything’s a competition for Rafe when it comes to Sarah, starting with the ceaseless quest for Dad’s approval. Meanwhile, since that day at the wedding, Rafe has never failed to be there for you. He’s been the best big brother, attentive and kind. While on the exterior he could be a jackass to everyone, including your Pogue friends, he’s never been that way with you. You could talk to him about your problems, however trivial they may be. He’s the one who made you feel most welcome at Tannyhill, impugning every presumption you harbored about what having Rafe Cameron as your brother would be like. And now you can’t picture your life without Rafe in it. 

“It’ll be fine. We’ll text. I’ll call you every week.”

“Won’t be the same.”

You take a deep breath.

“For the record, I’ll miss you too. A lot.”

“You better.”

You chuckle.

“Hey, I never gave you your birthday gift…” Rafe says, fishing for something in his back pocket. A sly smirk tugs his lips. “I wanted to do something a little different this year.” You’re filled with shock when he produces a little bag full of white powder. 

You blink rapidly as he holds it up. You’ve seen him take some at parties, sell it to his guests. Once or twice, you got curious and asked to try. He vehemently turned you down, insisting he’s not about to let his little sister get fucked up…despite spending the whole night getting fucked up himself.

“Really?”

Rafe’s smirk broadens. “Really.”

Excitement flushes through you. You can’t deny you’ve always wanted to know what it feels like.

“You like…never let me try before.”

He laughs, shifting closer to you. 

“Because I was trying to keep my sweet little sister pure. Can you blame me, princess?” he says, fingertips tracing your knee. 

You swallow thickly, your face heating when he places the little pouch in your hand.

“I actually have no idea how to…”

“I’ll show you, of course. It’s my job as your big brother to teach you everything.” His voice dips to a velvety bass as your eyes lock. “So let me pop your cherry, princess.”

When you stare at him, slack-jawed, Rafe snorts. 

“It’s just a phrase, relax.”

Amusement dances in his blue eyes at your clueless expression. He grabs a paper from his pocket and begins rolling it. 

“Here, I’ll show you how it’s done.” He gently swipes the pouch and takes your hand, opening your palm to pour just a tiny amount of the white powder in the middle. “Let’s just keep this a secret between us, okay?” His eyes twinkle. “I don’t want Alice to think I’m… corrupting you or something.”

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 2,382

Warnings | +18, bullying, for the moment only this

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | This work originated in Italian, so i apologize for any errors you will find, i am not a native english speaker, so go ahead and write in the comments where and what i can improve! 🥺❤

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

There was something in the air that day, something that weighed down her chest and left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

She looked outside her room and saw large gray clouds looming ominously, it was probably an approaching storm, and even so, she would still have to go to school, she could not escape her school obligations.

She had done so much to escape the harsh judgment of her family members, she knew that attending college was a huge expense for her parents, especially for being an out-of-towner with so much rent and bills to pay, so the only thing she could do to repay them was to get good grades and come out with a more than excellent GPA, without mentioning her problems.

So the girl prepared herself for yet another stressful and gloomy day, surrounded by prof's coaches and daddy's boys who wouldn't stop bragging about their possessions for a moment.

She adjusted her jacket and grabbed the bag containing all the necessary books, grabbed the house keys on the fly and locked the door behind her, not before nodding in the direction of the elderly neighbor who came out with her adorable little wagging dog every morning at that hour.The little Maltese barked in her direction and with a smile walked over to the couple, stroking the soft coat of the dog who, excited, hoisted himself up on two paws, accompanying her caresses with his head. Y/N burst out laughing at that warm expression of appreciation, could it be that only a dog was able to accept it without judgment?

"Do you go to school, Y/N?" asked the lady with a smile.

The girl nodded, "That's right, Mrs. Choi...I have a test today, I hope everything goes well."

"Oh, take it easy, my dear. I really feel that something new will happen for you today," the elderly woman's smile widened and Y/N was interjected.

She was no stranger to the strange outings of the woman, who very often seemed absent-minded and pensive, but a strange chill caught her. She tried to dilute the air with a giggle, "I hope it's also something good," she joked lightly, the woman rippled her lips.

"It depends on your point of view," she shrugged.

Y/N's smile faded away, not wanting to inquire further she decided it was getting quite late and waved a little awkwardly to her wacky neighbor, giving one last caress to the little dog, who continued to bark in her direction, trying to call her back.

"Come on, Y/N...you can get through this day too without too many hiccups," she said to herself, trying to mentally build up her courage. She arrived at the university with a lump in her throat, aware that once she entered the classroom she would see the haughty faces of her classmates again.

She was an outcast and the only classmate with whom she had come to form a decent bond of friendship had to change her address because that faculty was not suitable for her. But to say that she had simply grown tired of being bullied was perhaps easier.

She took a deep breath and entered the classroom, as she presaged, smiles filled with mockery accompanied her all the way to her seat, she took out the appropriate book for that hour of class and ignored everyone, no one however lent her a further glance, the arrival of the teacher had nipped in the bud any attempt at mockery.

Taking a test at the first hour was never easy for anyone, but the girl more than gladly accepted that chance to escape her foolish classmates.

She carried out the task in complete silence, interrupted only briefly by a few balls of paper and notes, some asking her to have her copied, others admonishing her not to sully their own air with her presence. Y/N swallowed, such doggedness seen from an outside eye might have seemed surreal, but to her it was normalcy.

They bothered her just for the sake of it, because she was the one without money, she was the unfashionable girl, she lived in a miserable apartment in a miserable neighborhood, she was everything they were not.

"Psst... Psst, little one!"

Y/N initially ignored that low whisper, but at yet another ball thrown at her head, she turned away in annoyance.

This was Kang Yoozu, one of the boys who worked hardest to make her school life a living hell; he seemed to take pleasure in constant torture and Y/N was often one of his favorite victims.

"What the hell do you want?!" she growled, impatient. He shrugged, "I just wanted to ask you if you were free later."

Y/N frowned, what was that jerk saying?

"Why would you care, Yoozu?" she asked, strangled.

A wicked smile spread across the classmate's face, "Your parents are street food vendors, right? How much can they possibly make per month?"

Y/N found herself gritting her teeth, ignoring the amused exclamations of the others; the professor seemed to have disappeared into thin air, which frustrated the girl even more.

"I don't know what you're getting at, but I suggest you shut your mouth," she said harshly and Yoozu's eyes narrowed.

"I'm just wondering how they were keep you, don't you think it's incumbent on them to lighten their load and earn money in other ways?"

The young woman blanched at the outrageous statement-what the fuck was she implying?! "And let's hear it-what would those ways be?" she rose from her chair under everyone's gaze.

Yoozu looked around with feigned interest, then elbowed his seatmate, chuckling.

"Well, I have a lot of money, a fuck or two wouldn't hurt, don't you think? You would earn honestly on your own strength," the whole class erupted in convulsive laughter, Y/N felt humiliated. She had endured much from them, had swallowed a myriad of bitter morsels, but no, that one would not let her get away with it.

In a very brief instant she found herself facing the smug boy who stared at her with satisfaction, and soon the scarlet shape of five perfectly outlined fingers was stamped on the candid face of that being, a being who for two years had made it unbearable for her to study for a better future. The noise was a dull pop and everyone fell silent.

Yoozu's eyes turned icy, and soon he jerked up from his chair, flipping it behind him.

"You dared too much, beggar" he made to approach threateningly, no one would intervene, she knew, but fortunately the professor's voice stopped whatever was about to happen.

"What the heck is going on in this class? Y/N! Yoozu! Go back to your seats immediately before I suspend your test."

The man's threatening voice made the boy take a step back, Y/N went back to her seat, but she felt the threatening gaze of her companion behind her the rest of the time, until the end of the hour sounded and everyone got up to leave their verifications on the professor's desk, who collected all the papers and added something to the register, which Y/N guessed was about her and Yoozu. A sick feeling invaded her stomach, she did not want her average to drop because of a bastard like Kang Yoozu, he had practically invited her to prostitute herself. With him.

Disgusted she took the art sketchbook from her bag, a small smile was born on her lips.

Classes with Professor Jeon always gave her a chance to get through the day in a slightly more uplifted mood.

He was a young boy ready to put himself on the front lines to help his students, older than her by five years, he had found a place in the university where he had studied because all the school staff thought he was deserving of getting a professorship there. And, Y/N admitted at least to herself, he was handsome as well as kind and helpful. She felt her heartbeat increase when her favorite professor made his entrance into the classroom, greeting all his pupils with a bright smile, exchanged a few words with the older professor who gave way to him, and during that conversation the girl clearly heard the excited murmurs of her classmates. They did not think much about it, giving vent to their shamelessly enamored sighs.

Y/N merely shrugged her shoulders as the young professor took a seat behind the desk and gave everyone a jovial look.

"Good morning, guys" he said quietly, a chorus of "good morning" and "hello" rose from the desks.

Y/N watched spellbound as the corner of his lips slightly lifted in a satisfied smile of the man, her professor's long hair that day was tied in a ponytail that the girl found damn adorable, which contrasted with the tattoos that decorated the entire arm left uncovered by the pulled-up shirt sleeve, the man crossed his arms and his biceps swelled in a hypnotic movement that caught the girl unprepared, she felt her body set on fire and with shame removed her gaze.

What she did not know was that Jungkook was also watching her. He never let her out of his sight, in truth.

From the first time he had caught her rushing into the classroom, wet as a tender chick, Jungkook could not help but feel a strange flutter every time he laid eyes on his pupil. Their eyes had met for the first time that day, a rush had gone through him from side to side, thunderstruck by that little figure who had bowed in apology over and over again.

And it was wrong, he should never have taken an interest in one of his students like that, but he was a man, a man with secret feelings and appetites, and everything about Y/N screamed timidity and fragility.

He wanted to protect her, wanted to take her away, wanted to make her his.

He knew about the way her classmates treated her, his colleagues sometimes talked about it during lunch breaks, this was terrible for him, it hurt him to even imagine the way the girl felt, he would have protected her if it was possible, but each time the bullying happened in his absence, and as a professor he could do nothing if Y/N herself did not ask for help. He could not punish the perpetrators without catching them in the act. The young man sighed, before lowering his eyes to the register, frowning at what he found written there.

"Park Y/N and Kang Yoozu were found standing during testing time, they looked like they were about to start a fight, I intervened in time to put them in their place."

Jungkook gritted his teeth as he read his student's name next to Y/N's.

The girl was too quiet a person to provoke a quarrel, his dark irises stopped on Yoozu, who was giggling along with his partner as his scribbled something in sketchbook.

Y/N, on the other hand, waited quietly and composedly for her class to begin, and that told Jungkook a lot about the dynamics of the strange event described by his colleague.

He rose from his chair clearing his throat, all eyes were soon on him.

He sensed the mischievous glances of the girls in his direction, he knew he was very much desired, after all he was the only young professor in the institution, but he did not let those attentions buy him, the only gaze he wanted on himself was that of the same girl who was anxiously crushing her fingers.

He leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms again, and in Y/N's gaze he read something very much like... desire? He looked at her, biting his lips for a thousandth of a second, clenching the tender flesh between his teeth, but that minimal amount of time was enough for the girl to widen her eyes and lower them immediately afterward, her cheeks flushed. Jungkook felt himself tightening in his pants, thinking that he was so adorable that he wanted to fuck her right then, in front of everyone.

He would have gladly made her cry as his cock penetrated her deeply.

"Guys, today I'm not going to talk to you about history and artists," he began, his voice crystal clear and smooth, "But about a subject that, unfortunately, will never stop being talked about," he paused behind Yoozu's desk.

He observed the lines drawn by the boy on the once-clean page, Yoozu made to cover his scrawl, but Jungkook was quick to catch him, "Let me see a bit, Kang," he said, before taking a better look at that jumble of shapeless lines, which took on the appearance of a naked girl with a tear-streaked face, there was a uniform at the corner of the paper and a bag, which Jungkook immediately recognized, raised an eyebrow in the boy's direction and returned the object to him, not without first tearing up the page, "Drawing your companions without clothes is not what I asked you to do, Yoozu.

Employ my hour to draw something in good taste, instead of indulging in such disgusting antics," the man scolded him harshly. The student bowed his head, humiliated, apologetically, and his deskmate turned away, as if to put some distance between himself and his friend, which the teacher laughed at internally. It was precisely people like Yoozu who had no friends.

Jungkook finally turned around and walked in Y/N's direction, stopped just behind her and lowered himself until he reached her ear, "Today's lesson is about bullying," he murmured, the girl felt her legs trembling under his low and sweet tone, she meekly nodded, writing on a vacant page the theme, then Jungkook raised his voice slightly, "I would like you all to draw a representation of bullying, also writing a small dedication to the kids who experience it firsthand."

When the young teacher turned away from her, Y/N resumed breathing normally.

Everyone caught the stinging reference, the girl gazed admiringly at Jungkook's strong shoulders, perfectly aligned in a proud posture that Y/N had no trouble finding attractive, clutched the pencil grip and set to work, unaware of the forbidden desire she aroused moment by moment in her teacher.

[fushigowo]

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄 | 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐅𝐓. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

╰┈➤ professor!gojo x student!reader x professor!getou

╰┈➤ synopsis: your friend, maki, set you up on a date with her friend named okkotsu yuta but unfortunately, your beloved professors were opposed to this so-called date.

╰┈➤ warnings: teacher x student (gojo and getou are in their mid 30s and reader in her early 20s), dubious consent, dom/sub dynamics, threesome, overstimulation, oral sex, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, sex toys, size kink, dumbification, nonconsensual filming, bondage, degradation, squirting, tummy bulge, orgasm denial, getou and gojo are so mean :((

╰┈➤ a/n: well well well look who posted a fic again after suddenly disappearing

╰┈➤ PART I ➸ PART II

Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru are both great professors. In front of class, they both have their own unique ways of teaching and how they interact with their students, which makes them both fun and great professors. Seeing how friendly they are to their students and colleagues, how they’re considered a fun duo, and how lively they are, one won’t seem to think of them as rude and rough and aggressive towards other people. Well, that is what others think, including your friends, Nobara, Megumi, and Yuuji. You though—you know damn well how rough and aggressive your professors are behind closed doors.

At this point, you basically have a hidden relationship with your professors and every night you pray that both men won’t leak the lewd photos and videos of you fucking your beloved professor Gojo and Getou. Despite worrying about some homemade porno of you fucking them, you can’t deny the fact that you like it. You like every bit of it; the attention, the mixture of pain and pleasure, and the mere thought that you’re the one who just so happens to have a sexual relationship with the professors who are constantly fantasized about in your university.

In class, however, you try your best to focus on the lectures and papers and work that your professors would give. Sometimes, they would tease you and sometimes they would completely ignore you. As much as you want to focus on your works, you don’t want to be ignored as if you’re now a useless thing for them to throw away. You wanted their attention; you want them to only have eyes for you and yet you also don’t want anyone else to know that you’re fucking two of the hottest professors in your university.

Even your friends don’t know about it because god knows what Nobara will say when she finds out. She won’t just say anything, she would freak out. The only thing you could pretend to do is, to pretend you aren’t seeing anyone, which led to Maki setting you up on a date with her friend from another university.

Now, you’re waiting at a nearby coffee shop for Yuta, which Maki said his name was.

You can’t deny the fact that you’re interested in this guy. As much as you want to spend your time alone now that your schedule is clear, you’re curious what kind of guy Yuta is and hopefully, this date would be the start of another romantic relationship for you. Waiting for Yuta had your mind occupied with something else other than thinking about your professors, Gojo and Getou.

“H-Hey,” you heard a voice called out.

“Oh, hi!” you smile at him, making him smile back.

Yuta possesses disheveled black hair with bangs hanging down to his forehead, dark blue eyes and bags under his eyes that, you think, added to his attractiveness. He wears a casual clothing, black shit underneath a denim jacket and pants with black leather boots.

The sight of Yuta smiling in front of you had you flustered and you didn’t even notice how long you’re staring until he shakes your shoulder, taking you out of your daydreaming.

“You’re the one Maki told me about, right?” he ask.

“Yes, that’s me,” you smile. “And you’re Okkotsu Yuta, right?”

“Just Yuta,” he scratches the back of his head. “You look great, by the way. To be honest, I’m really nervous about this date thing since I’m new to this.”

“Don’t worry, I am too,” you smile. “Come on. There’s this coffee shop near my university where we can talk. The food they serve there are amazing!” you took his hand as you lead him to your destination and Yuta didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he was joyous at how lively you are and he just knows that he’ll enjoy your company for the next hours.

Coffee date with Yuta is by far the most enjoyable date you’ve ever had. The both of you talked and laughed together and you liked how Yuta went from being shy and nervous to talkative and comfortable.

The coffee shop is packed, mostly students who are busy finishing their work or studying for exams and the constant ringing of the bell on the front door of the shop didn’t bother you at all until you saw two tall figures came in, one possessing white hair and the other with black hair.

Seeing your professors, Gojo and Getou, outside of the school grounds and with Yuta might not be the best scenario for you. Who knows what they might say or do to ruin your special day with someone you’re actually interested in.

Your eyes were too busy tracking down Gojo and Getou’s movements and your mind was too occupied to listen to Yuta as you thought about your professors ruining your date. Yuta seems to have notice about the sudden lack of attention so he asked what was wrong, snapping you out of your thoughts and your eyes are now back on Yuta. You apologized to him for not paying attention, to which he said it was okay but not a minute later, your gaze were back on eyeing Gojo and Getou. But then again, the two of them haven’t spoken to you or called you to their offices for weeks now and you couldn’t help but think that they’re tired of you so why not occupy your time and attention with someone who’s really interested in you? Wasting your time with your horny professors aren’t worth it so you sat there, now paying close attention to Yuta.

“Where do you want to go to next?” he asks. “We could go to the arcade if you like? Or watch movies?”

“Both are great. We could go the arcade first then we can watch movies at the cinema,” you smile. “Come on, let’s go.”

You stand up from your seat and take Yuta’s hand and walk towards the door. A pair of cerulean eyes seem to have notice your presence, making him look over his shoulder, only to see you smiling and holding another man’s hand. Gojo scoffs before pointing you to Getou who is now handing him a cup of coffee.

“Oh? Looks like our precious student found a replacement for us,” Getou chuckles.

Gojo might be mean behind closed doors but Getou is by far crueler than him. It’s as if the two of them are competing over you on who makes you cum the fastest or who’s got the better dick between them. You, however, were too fucked up to care which of them has the bigger dick. Maybe when it comes to personality, Gojo wins that title.

Gojo follows Getou out of the coffee shop as he walks towards you. The black-haired man tied in a man bun placed a hand on shoulder, which startled you, making you look over your shoulder. You feel Yuta’s hand tighten around yours and he couldn’t help but pull you even closer to him.

“Easy there,” Getou chuckles as he put both of his hands up in the air as if he’s being arrested. “We’re looking all over for you,” he says to you, making Yuta raise an eyebrow.

“Do you know them?” Yuta asks.

“Oh, she knows us very well, right, Y/N?” This time, Gojo interrupts. “We’re her bodyguards. Her mother is looking for her since she has a date coming over their place tonight.” Gojo puts both of his hands on top of your shoulders, giving it a squeeze as he smiles at Yuta, who is still suspicious about the situation.

“It’s okay, Yuta. They’re… they won’g hurt me, it’s fine,” you say. You turn your back against Yuta and faced Gojo and Getou. “My mom didn’t tell me anything about having a date for tonight. Tell them I already have a date and I don’t need another man who I’m not interested in.”

“Sorry but we’re just doing our job. We still have to take you home,” Gojo smiles. “Well, if you want your parents to get angry again—which you probably don’t—we’ll let you carry on this date. Let’s go, Suguru.”

“Wait!” you call out to them before looking back to Yuta. “Let’s continue this date some other time, okay? I’m really sorry, Yuta, but I have to go. I had a really great time with you. I’ll see you next time.” With that, you give him a kiss on the cheek before waving goodbye at him and join the two men.

“Call me when you get home, okay?” he waves goodbye, his cheeks blushing and he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“I will!” you yelled before getting inside Gojo’s car.

The white-haired man hops on the driver’s while Getou sits beside you. You moved further away from him and sit beside the window. You kept quiet for the first minutes of the ride, asking yourself why you had ruined your date with Yuta by going along these two men who ignored your presence for a weeks. Maybe it’s because you wanted their attention again? Or maybe it’s because you wanted them to make you feel good again after what feels like an eternity of ignoring you.

“He’s a keeper,” Gojo chuckles. “You got yourself a good one, sweetheart. Did you tell him that you’re fucking two of your professors?”

“Shut up, Satoru,” you rolled your eyes at the man. “I really wanted this date to go well but you two decided to ruin it.”

“If you wanted it to go well then why did you come with us?” Suguru asks, making you silent.

You know damn well why. You couldn’t admit out loud how you missed Suguru and Satoru’s kisses, how you missed their hands roaming around your body, and how they make you feel good. However, you are still ashamed that you had left Yuta to come with your professors. You like the man. You really do. You like how Yuta makes you comfortable and how he attentive he is to you, how he makes you flustered even with the little things he does and you thank whatever god there is for making you and Yuta get along so well. But if you want to make this work with him, you have to stop the sexual relationship you have with your professors, which is… something that you can’t seem to let go.

Suguru’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, you look at him and see his fingers signaling you to come towards him. You bite your lips, trying to stop yourself from doing so yet your body gave in and the next thing you knew, you’re sitting on his lap, arms circled around his neck while his hands are on your waist.

“Why did the two of you ignored me the past few weeks?” you ask. “I thought you—you wanted to stop. I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

“Why did you think that?” Suguru whispers. “We were avoiding you because you don’t want others to know of our relationship, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“We were avoiding you because we’re protecting you, sweetheart,” Gojo was the one who spoke this time. “Don’t want others to think that you have something going on with your professors, yeah?”

“Yeah… I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“You should be sorry,” Suguru says before pressing kisses on your neck, making you tilt your head up to give him more access. “We didn’t like that you’re hanging out with that guy,” he whispers in between his kisses.

You let out a soft moan when Suguru bit your neck and his hands start to roam around your body, feeling your warmth as you press yourself on to him, your hips grinding against his crotch. Suguru removes your shirt and letting it drop on the floor of the car. The cold air inside the vehicle sent shivers down your spine as you were left wearing your bra. Suguru’s hand unclasped the hook expertly, tossing the undergarment somewhere.

“Wait for me, you impatient assholes,” Satoru scoffs yet you and Suguru decides to ignore him. All you could let out is a yelp when the black-haired man suddenly bit your nipple while his hand is rubbing circles around your clothed cunt.

“Ah, Sugu—Suguru,” you whimper against his neck, letting your hips grind against him.

“That’s not what you call me.”

“‘m sorry… Sir.”

Suguru’s slender fingers pull your panties to the sides, your wetness coating the tip of his fingers as he rubs your slit, making you grip his shoulder. His kisses went even further down, leaving marks on your collarbone and chest and even sucking and biting your nipples that caused you to let out a whimper. You’re panting hard when Suguru suddenly pushes you down the passenger seat, fully removing your skirt and panties as if he’s trying to tear your clothing apart at how aggressive and rough he is.

You couldn’t even protest when Suguru suddenly positioned himself in between your legs, letting it rest on his shoulder. A pornographic moan escapes your lips when you suddenly feel Suguru’s tongue meet your wet slit, licking it from top to bottom. He hums against your pussy, making your back arch as his moans sent vibrations. Your hands went to grip Suguru’s hair, tangling the strands in between your fingers. His tongue continues to pleasure you, licking and sucking your clit as if it’s his last meal. Even though his tongue is already too much for you, he smirks and slowly inserts one finger inside you, making you whine and grip his hair even tighter in your grasp.

“Oh, fuck! Ah—Sir, wait!” you whine when he inserts another finger in you. This time, his tongue is licking and sucking you while his fingers are thrusting in and out of you in a fast pace.

You didn’t know whether you’d push Suguru away or press yourself even more to him. The sensation is too much for you and yet you wanted to feel more of him after ignoring your for weeks. Suguru can’t deny that he misses your pussy. He had to endure the past few weeks without fucking you because of Satoru’s stupid idea of ignoring you in order for others to not get suspicious. He spent the entire weeks fisting himself to the thought of you and to every photos and videos he has on his phone, fucking you mercilessly.

The thought of it had Suguru picking up the pace, thrusting his fingers rapidly as his tongue alternated between licking and sucking your wet folds. You didn’t know whether you’d grip his hair or cover your mouth or hold on to the leather seat of Satoru’s car. The white-haired man chuckles as he watches you squirm underneath Suguru’s grasp and noticed how your hands don’t know where to hold on to. Satoru creeps his way onto the back where you’re sprawled on the seat as Suguru continues to eat you out. Satoru guides your left hand to the base of cock, motioning your hand in an up and down motion. Your entire body shook as you feel yourself getting closer and closer into climax, your back arching and your toes curling against Suguru’s back.

“Ngh—Fuck! I’m—’m cumming!” Just as you’re about to reach your orgasm, Suguru suddenly pulls away, making you whine as he smirks above you. “N-No, why’d you stop? I was—ngh—I was so close.”

“I don’t think you deserve to cum after seeing what happened today, right, Satoru?” Suguru chuckles as he wipes his lips.

“Yeah. To think that we’re protecting you from allegations and here you are, replacing us for such a lame student,” Satoru grins. “That doesn’t seem fair, sweetheart. Now, let’s continue this inside, yeah?”

“Mmph! Nngh…” you whimper as you try to struggle out of your restraints.

As soon as Satoru and Suguru brought you inside Suguru’s house, they immediately tossed you on the bed and restrained your wrists to the bed, legs spread because of the spreader bar around your ankles, a vibrator pushing against your clit and a ball gag to silence your moans and whining. Your face is soaked with sweat and tears as you wait for Satoru and Suguru to finish grading some papers. It’s so cruel of them to leave you inside the master bedroom, all tied up and muffled and a camera set up in front of the bed.

It’s been—what? An hour? An hour and you already came four times. You’re so fucked out yet the men who’s taking possession of the remote of the vibrator kept setting it on a high level, making your back arch and your toes to curl. The bedsheets are now wet and slicked with your juices yet it was the last thing you could think of. When you felt the vibrations lower down, you relaxed yourself on the bed, panting hard and trying to keep yourself awake until suddenly—

“Mmph!” you whimper when the vibrations suddenly went high, even higher than before. You’re guessing it’s the maximum level, which made your back arch and your toes to curl as you climaxed again for what feels like the umpteenth time.

A few minutes after, you hear the door clicked, revealing Satoru and Suguru. Your vision is blurry because of the tears yet you could still see the sinister grins on their faces as they walk towards you. Satoru removes the gag around your lips and the first word to escape from you is please.

“You’re so fucked out,” Satoru chuckles. “We haven’t even started yet.”

“Satoru, get her out of her restraints, but don’t remove her cuffs. I have an idea.”

Satoru did what the black-haired man told him to do. The vibe against your clit is gone now, so is the spreader bar. The only thing left on you is the cuffs around your wrists behind your back. Suguru forces you to sit on his lap in front of the camera while Satoru settles himself in between your legs.

“W-wait, ‘Toru,” you whimper and try to push his head away from your pussy. “’m still—still sensitive… need a break—ah! Fuck!”

You let out a moan as Satoru’s tongue met your aching clit, still sensitive from the vibrations earlier. You try to close your thighs yet Suguru holds both of them, opening your legs even wider and knowing that Suguru is much bigger than you, he is also stronger so there’s no use to trying to close your thighs despite the overstimulation, your head fall backwards on Suguru’s shoulder.

Satoru would moan every now and then, sending vibrations to your clit, making you whimper while Suguru spreads your legs even wider as his lips travel down the sides of your neck, leaving marks and hickeys on your skin. Suguru’s hand travels up to your face, cupping your jaw to make you look at the camera in front of the three of you, capturing the lewd sight and showing how fucked you are.

Your toes start to curl and your back starts to arch, making you squirm against Suguru’s hold while Satoru continues to eat you out. Your moans are almost pornographic as you can feel yourself reaching your climax again.

“Toru! ‘m gonna—oh, fuck—gonna cum! ‘m so close, please!”

“Then cum, slut,” Suguru whispers, enough to make you see stars and your mind to go blank as you cum on Satoru’s mouth. “C’mere, Toru,” the black-haired man says from behind before pressing his lips against Satoru’s, tasting your juices that is coating his mouth.

“You bit my tongue, you asshole,” Suguru says, pushing the white-haired man.

“My bad,” Satoru chuckles before turning his attention back to you. “C’mere, sweetheart,” he mumbles and you immediately obey, settling yourself in between Satoru’s legs, your face on level with the bulge inside his pants.

Satoru opens the top buttons of his shirt, allowing himself to breathe before pulling down his pants and boxers, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen. You gulp at the sight of its pink tip leaking with pre-cum and how aching it is to be sucked by you and to fuck you mercilessly. You didn’t utter another word and immediately licked the tip of his cock, making him take a sharp breath.

“Oh, fuck. God, I missed this mouth of yours,” Satoru moans as you take him in deeper, in a slow and sensual way possible. Satoru sits on the edge of the bed while you’re on the floor, sucking him slowly.

“Lift your hips for me, love,” Suguru whispers behind you, which you obeyed. The black-haired man settles himself on the floor in between your thighs, giving him a clear view of your glistening cunt.

“Suguru, what are you doing?” you ask. “I—ah—I’ll crush you down there.”

“Don’t worry about it, babe. He likes it when his face is being sat on,” Satoru chuckles. “Tell you what, if you make me cum first before Suguru makes you, we’ll give you a reward.”

“What kind of reward—ah!” you shriek when Suguru suddenly slapped your cunt before licking your slit and burying his nose on your clit.

“Let’s change the agreement then. If you cum before I do, we’ll punish you.” Satoru mumbles. You nod before continuing to suck him off as Suguru eats you out.

Suguru’s tongue alternates between licking and sucking your cunt as his nose touches your aching clit. You couldn’t help but moan around Satoru’s cock, your pace becoming faster that the room starts to fill with the lewd noises that you’re making as you suck him off. The more you try to lift your hips away from Suguru’s mouth, the more he circles his arm around your thighs to keep you in place, leaving you no chance of escape against him. Even Satoru’s hand is on your head, guiding you to continue giving him pleasure.

Your pace became even faster when you felt Suguru insert his tongue in between your folds, making your legs shake. You sucked Satoru's cock deeper, hitting the back of your throat and that your nose is buried on his pubes. Satoru releases a moan as he guides your head. Your eyes start to fill up with tears, both from gagging and the overstimulation that Suguru’s tongue is making you feel.

“Oh, god! Fuck! Keep going faster, baby. C’mon, you can do it—oh, shit!” Satoru can already feel himself getting closer and closer yet he doesn’t want to give in. Not until you cum first so he can punish you.

You feel Suguru chuckle against your cunt, sending vibrations which made you moan around Satoru’s cock. Suguru’s licking and sucking intensifies that it had you grinding your hips against his mouth, forgetting about your agreement with the white-haired man, for your only thought right now is to make yourself cum.

You notice Satoru’s breathing became even heavier, his abs flexing as he can already feel himself getting closer and so do you. You’re so close yet you also want to make Satoru cum. When you suddenly feel Suguru’s fingers slide inside your folds, you lost it. You moan against Satoru’s cock, feeling your orgasm rip through you as your body shake above Suguru’s face.

Satoru’s hand pushes your head, making you pull away from his cock. A smirk is visible on his face, knowing that you lost the agreement that the both of you had decided on. His slender fingers wipe your tears away while Suguru gives your cunt one last lick before standing up the floor. You whimper from the overstimulation but that doesn’t stop the both of them when Suguru removes his belt to circle it around your neck while Satoru brings out their favorite toy to use on you—a silicone dildo—almost as big and thick as the white-haired man’s cock. Well, scratch that. It wasn’t the dildo that was their favorite toy, it was you.

Satoru suctioned the toy on the wooden floor in between your thighs, signaling you to lower yourself on the dildo right in front of the two of them. You watch the two of them make out with each other as you whimper, feeling the toy sink deeper into you, coating it with your juices. You hear Satoru’s mumbles against Suguru’s mouth as the black-haired man run his hand up and down along Satoru’s cock while you watch, riding the toy up and down in slow pace.

“Faster, slut,” you hear Suguru’s reprimanding tone, leaving you no choice but to ride the plastic dick even faster. “That the best you can do?”

“Ngh—can’t. I can’t take it, Suguru. ‘m so—so sensitive,” you cry, making the black-haired man roll his eyes before yanking the belt around your neck to make you look up at him with tears blurring your vision. “I can—I can go even faster, sir. I’m—I’m sorry.”

“Nah, I just need to do all the work for you,” Suguru smirks. Something that you have a bad feeling of.

Suguru orders you to stand up, leaving the dildo on the floor that is coated with your essence. He, then, told you to sit in between his legs while he sits on the edge of the bed in front of the camera that—you didn’t notice—is still in front of you. Suguru spreads your legs once more while his other hand is holding the dildo. You squirm against his touch but couldn’t do anything because of how big he is compared to you. Without any warning, Suguru slowly inserted the tip of the dildo inside your soaking cunt, making you yelp and squirm against him.

“You can take it, right, doll?” he whispers against your ear. All you can do is nod as he slowly plunges the entire length of the toy inside you. “Atta girl.”

Suguru plunges the toy in and out of you while Satoru pleasures himself behind the camera, stroking his cock that matches the same pace that black-haired man inserts the dildo inside of you. Your soft groans and whimpers turned into moans as Suguru’s pace starts to quicken.

“Ahh! Suguru! S-slow down, please!” you cry, but instead of slowing down, Suguru’s pace became even faster.

The pace was enough to make you curl your toes and bit your lips as you can feel yourself releasing another orgasm again and it didn’t help when Suguru’s other hand came down to feel your sensitive clit while the other plunges the dildo inside you in a merciful pace. The combination of Suguru’s fingers against your clit and the dildo going in and out inside of you was enough to make you squeal and a transparent liquid starts squirting out of you, making you mumble under your breath, saying your sorry for making such a mess.

“Think you can do that again, doll?” Suguru whispers against you. You shake your head, telling him that you can’t take much more.

“You’re—ngh—you’re gonna break me,” you cry against him.

“Well, that’s the whole point.”

“Do you want me to answer it for you, sweetheart?” Satoru asks as he stares at your ringing phone beside you on the creaking bed.

Your face is buried on the sheets, hands clasping on the pillows as the white-haired man takes you from behind. You try to ignore the ringing and even shook your head to tell Satoru to leave it alone. But, as expected, he didn’t. Still continuing his thrusts, Satoru picks up the phone and answers it while you try so hard to muffle your whimpers and moans on the sheets.

“It would be rude not to answer,” he chuckles as he holds the phone in front of you.

Seeing the contact name, it’s Yuta. You didn’t even remember anyone with that name but your mind suddenly wandered off to the man you had a date with earlier. It’s only been a couple of hours yet you had already forgotten him, thanks to your dear professors.

“Hello?” you ask, trying to muffle your whimpers.

[“Hey, it’s me! You didn’t call earlier so I got a little worried. Did you get home safe?”]

“Ngh, fuck—yeah, yes, I’m fine. I got—got home safe.”

[“Are you okay? Sounds like you’re… running or something?”]

Without any warning, Satoru pulls his cock out and plunges into you so suddenly, making you yelp and grip the sheets even tighter. His pace became even more faster than before, making the headboard create even more louder banging against the wall.

“Oh, god—fuck! I’m okay—I’m fine, Yuta.”

[“Are—are you sure? Hey, what’s going on?”]

Satoru rolls his eyes and takes the phone from your hand, bringing it up to his ears.

“Heya, buddy. She’s kinda busy right now and probably too cock-drunk to make a conversation so… bye!” the white-haired man chuckles before ending the call. “Heh, you’re lucky I didn’t open the front cam.”

“I hate you, ‘Toru,” you whisper.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

© fushigowo | 2022

[spacedace]

Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.

Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.

(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)

-

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.

A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.

It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.

Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.

Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.

But they were still kids.

Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.

Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.

Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.

Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.

They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.

Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.

Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.

They all knew why.

The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.

That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.

Robin II was an Alley Kid.

A true child of Gotham.

Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.

Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.

He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

Bad things happened to good kids all the time.

And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.

Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.

The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.

Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.

Or so the rumors said, at least.

That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.

Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.

And then the news came in.

There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.

Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.

Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.

Alone.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.

The Joker wasn’t most folks.

And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.

Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.

And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.

Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.

But the Bat would find him.

They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.

It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

The Clown still lived.

The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.

No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.

That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.

They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.

And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.

Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.

Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.

Not Robin II either.

Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.

No.

It was a new Robin.

A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.

Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.

The Clown had killed Robin II.

Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.

Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.

The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.

But he never did.

Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.

Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.

And then the Bat stepped in.

Revived the fucking Clown.

A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.

He was a good kid.

He deserved better.

Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.

Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.

It was their turn.

[edgarallennope]

Honestly I love the kiss so much, but I love it even MORE as a response to the constant debate that Neil Gaiman has kind of been made to be in the middle of. That only a kiss would make it canon, that it wasn't "real queer rep" otherwise.

To which Neil Gaiman said, fine! You get three queer couples this season.

Here are Nina and Maggie. They are both women, they are both explicitly gay. They will be something someday, probably, but not yet. They need time, but they know they like each other. They do not kiss.

Here are Beelzebub and Gabriel. They are genderless beings that come in He and They flavouring, and they are very explicitly (and DISGUSTINGLY) in love, and they hold hands and serenade each other and everything. They do not kiss.

Here are Aziraphale and Crowley. They are genderless beings that come in a variety of flavours but have most frequently been He-ing it up. They have known each other over 6000 years. They have loved each other almost the entire time. They know each other better than any other beings in existence. They have lived their entire existence pretending there's nothing between them, far too afraid to call attention to the love that dare not speak its name, for fear at first of retribution, but deeper than that there is a fear of driving away the only being in the universe who understands and accepts them fully. Of losing the only friend they have in the world.

They kiss, and it is NOT a happy kiss. It is the FURTHEST THING from a relationship confirming kiss. It is a goodbye kiss, a throwing-sand-over-the-fire kiss. It is a truly DESPERATE kiss (and I've seen Richard II I know damn well that David Tennant can do a longing and fearful kiss when he needs to), and it hurts more than anything else.

There, Neil Gaiman says. You got your kiss. Are you happy? Are they real now? More-so than before?

TLDR: newsflash asshole they've been in love and queer the entire goddamn time.

[sheisjoeschateau]

misha's masterlists

Hi, I'm Misha. Thank you for diving into my stories and supporting my writing :)

My fanfics [+this blog] are dedicated to Steve Harrington. All fanfic series, one-shots, blurbs, etc. listed below are written by me. Do not repost or share anywhere without proper credit. Thank you.

SERIES MASTERLISTS:

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..."

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

[PART I] | [PART II] [PART III] | [PART IV] | [PART V] [PART VI] | [PART VII] | [PART VIII]

[Part IX - blurb] | [Part IX - full]

[Part X] | MORE COMING SOON

SUMMARY: WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU.

HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU...

BUT WILL HE?

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"You're there. You've always been there."

Steve Harrington x OC!fem!reader Childhood friends to lovers. Sloooowburn. Angst. Romance. Smut with plot. Action. Told from second-person view, reader is Nicole (character from S1), different POV, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, pre-S1-S4, eventual post-S4 universe.

[PART I] | [PART II]

Summary: Steve Harrington was six years old when he met you: Nicole St. James, the girl who carries the other half of him. Since 1972, the two of you have been inseparably tethered by the soul. You give Steve a home in his big house with no parents, and he gives your introverted heart a longing for someone. The King of Hawkins High and princess of this small town, you tell each other absolutely everything...except that you are in love with each other.

Everything changes that one afternoon at school, when you catch the school's social outcast -- Jonathan Buyers -- has been stalking Steve, his posse and his girl, Nancy. Little do you both know, the monsters in your favorite fairytales are real. And you're both going to have to fight them together.

You both share the best days and worst days, through childhood and teen years, until you both find yourselves roped into the perils that exist beneath your feet in Hawkins.

But through it all, despite all the doubt, Steve knows one thing: you're there. You've always been there.

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"At the Chateau, We'll Be Alright."

Steve Harrington x Jonathan Byers x fem!reader A crossover au inspired by Saltburn and Call Me by Your Name. Additional Inso from Joe's theater performance as in Spring Awakening. Song Inso: "Chateau" by Djo

Strangers to best friends to lovers. Slowburn. Angst. Romance, with polyamory themes and schemes. Smut with hella plot.

[MULTI-PART SERIES] COMING SOON. Click here for a preview.

Summary: The reader lives with her parents at a fancy chateau, in France.  This year, her father offers their home as a housing sanctuary to a select student or graduate.  He decides to invite two graduate students to live with their family over the summer, coming from different working class backgrounds, and help with their academic paperwork as a professor of archaeology.

Steve Harrington: a rich kid from a swanky boarding school with a bad boy reputation and too much charm for his own good.  Surprisingly, his grades say otherwise.  A’s and B’s, his parents claim that is seeking one-on-one tutoring so that he can progress in his studies — but it sounds more like an excuse to ship him off for longer periods of time, giving them an out for having their son around during the summer.  The pretty boy’s all about ladies…but that’s only because he hasn’t met a boy who awakens his bisexuality.  Yet.

Jonathan Byers: a kid from the lower working class, excelling in his studies and AP programs at the same boarding school as Steve which he only got into because of community sponsorship and grants.  Quiet wallflower, little to no friends, a bit cynical.  A closeted gay, he’s more determined to stick with being perceived as “ace” than come out of the closet.  Until he goes to stay at a chateau with a handsome boy, and a beautiful girl who understands him.

Twists, turns and terrifying risks, you all put your hearts on the line that summer at the Chateau. Add the reader's cousin Eddie into the mix, along with her best friend Robin, Steve's ex-girlfriend Nancy, Jonathan's estranged mother and your progressive parents alongside Steve's absent parents -- it's a cruel summer.