#the fact these were some of the last words he heard

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It has been too long since you heard from Bradley. Perhaps something went wrong. Or maybe he was avoiding you. Just when you start trying to accept that the last few months were too good to be true, things start to turn around again.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being sweet

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Days went by. With only two weeks left of Bradley's deployment, you weren't really expecting to receive air mail at school with your name on it, but you certainly did miss it anyway. Your students asked about him every morning, wondering if he'd sent a new email, hoping for another video with Marty. But you got nothing in either of your email inboxes.

He was on your mind almost constantly. What happened on his mission? Did the Navy decide it was okay to cut off communication right when you were completely attached to hearing from him? Did this really mean you had to wait until the aircraft carrier arrived back in San Diego? 

It was right before your students were due to arrive in your classroom that you had perhaps the most distressing thoughts of all. What if something went terribly wrong and he didn't survive? Or what if this was simply his way of ghosting you before he had to see you in person?

Jayden raced in ahead of the rest of your class, calling your name along the way. "Did Lieutenant Bradshaw write back yet?"

You pointed him toward his desk as you shook your head. "I already explained that he may not have time to respond before his deployment ends."

Jayden just bounced in place in front of you. "Then that means he can visit us when he gets back!"

Now a small group of your kids surrounded you, and you wished more than anything that you could tell them that Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, their beloved pen pal, would definitely be visiting your classroom in a few short days. Instead you told them, "Please, take your seats so we can start our Natural History lesson."

This turned out to be your new normal. Every time you got an email notification, you jumped to unlock your phone, but it was never a message from Bradley. When you saw a box tucked in your mail cubby in the school office, you ran for it, only to find the science supplies you ordered weeks ago had arrived. You even forced yourself to go back and read some of the old emails from him, just to make sure it all really happened, but his words left you aching for more.

...I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies...

...You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?...

...Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head...

...And it's not a matter of if I touch you, it's a matter of when...

After nearly two weeks had gone by, you tried to figure out if the USS Theodore Roosevelt was back in port, but short of driving to North Island to see for yourself, you couldn't seem to find a solid answer online. And if you did drive there and found it at the dock, what were you supposed to do? Contact the US Navy? If they told you that nothing happened to Lieutenant Bradshaw and that he was perfectly fine, you'd be mortified. If they told you something in fact did happen to him in the last two weeks, you'd be devastated. That's assuming you could even get them to give you any information at all which was doubtful.

On Friday, you were on the verge of tears as you got ready for work. "You're being ridiculous," you whispered, and that fact made you want to cry even more. You tried to take the time to make yourself look presentable, thinking that may be the key to having a good day. Your outfit was cute. Your makeup looked nice. But you weren't smiling, and you didn't feel like doing so at all. 

You grabbed your bag, hoping the short ride with your favorite playlist would be enough to get your spirits up, but all you could think about was how you probably weren't cut out for life with a guy in the military anyway. Waiting around like this to see what was going on was making your stomach upset, and you weren't getting enough sleep. When you closed your eyes, you just pictured a very kissable face with a scarred cheek and big brown eyes.

"You need to focus," you scolded as you parked your car and headed into the school with your ID badge. You had eighteen kids who required your attention, and you'd once again give it to them, because you were fantastic at your job. 

This morning, Violet was the first one to mention Bradley in passing, and you had to shake your head. "Please find your seats. If I hear from Lieutenant Bradshaw, I promise I will let you know. I'm not hiding any letters or emails from you all, okay?" You tried to smile as you said, "I'd like to hear from him every bit as badly as you would. I can guarantee that."

You struggled through your morning lessons, often reminding yourself that you needed to focus on your students. Then you sat quietly at your desk with the classroom lights off during lunch, scrolling back through the dozens of emails you'd exchanged with Bradley on your phone. You pulled up the picture of the sun setting behind him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and even though you tried, you couldn't find anything other than the most sincere expression on his handsome face.

Maybe he would text you this weekend, letting you know he was back and your date was on. You had to believe he would still contact you. When the bell rang, you counted to ten, and then your students came flooding back through your classroom door. They wanted to tell you all about how Jasper from Mrs. Wynn's class got in trouble during lunch, and you humored them before saying, "I'm sure none of you would misbehave like that in the cafeteria."

"No way!" Henry promised.

"That's what I like to hear," you told him with a forced smile. "Once you're all in your seats, we'll start our math lesson. Maybe I'll put a few aviation problems on the board at the end if you show me how well you can focus for the next twenty minutes."

You had just started copying the first fraction that you wanted to discuss from your notebook onto the board when there was a sharp knock on your classroom door. You sighed and let your forehead rest briefly on the white board, knowing that another disruption would completely derail your kids after all the lunchtime nonsense. When you turned to face the door, they were already starting to chatter with each other. 

"Come in!" you called out, and every head in your room whipped around to see who was there and what they wanted. 

When the door swung open, the room went silent. The first thing you thought about was how peculiar it was to see someone in a khaki military uniform standing there. Then your eyes slid up that tall, muscular frame as your lips parted in surprise. As soon as you met his gaze, he smiled and said, "Hey, Gorgeous."

You couldn't speak. As he took a full step into your classroom and pulled the door closed, you finally noticed he was holding some pretty flowers. Then he was heading your way, his combat boots squeaking ever so slightly against the tile floor with each long stride. Bradley Bradshaw wasn't hesitating at all as he made his way directly to you while your students started talking again.

"It's Lieutenant Bradshaw!"

"I knew he'd come visit us ever since I asked him to!"

"Does this mean his deployment is over?"

"Why does he have flowers?"

He didn't stop until he was standing right in front of you, and the butterflies in your belly were fluttering so much, you were convinced you could float off of the floor. You weren't sure what else to say, so you simply whispered, "Bradley."

His smile grew as he said, "I love the way that sounds when you say it." You could only squeak in response, and his warm gaze flicked from your eyes down to your lips. At this rate you'd be a puddle at his feet in the next ten seconds. He swallowed hard, cheeks flushed as he leaned in closer, taking another small step forward until his boot gently bumped your shoe. His voice took on a raspier edge as said, "You told me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."

He didn't stop slowly closing the distance, and when you reached out and let your fingers tangle with his, you whispered, "Please." Then you closed your eyes as his lips brushed feather light against yours. You gasped. He was here. Nothing had ever felt as good as this in your life. You opened your eyes to find him grinning right in front of you, and you chased him for another one of his dreamy kisses.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw kissed her!"

"I think they're in love!"

"They are definitely going to be girlfriend and boyfriend!"

Bradley wrapped his fingers around yours a little tighter as you and he laughed, and he ducked his head before looking up at your class. His cheeks were the most alluring shade of pink as he told them, "Hey, I hope you don't mind that I decided to surprise you and your teacher."

"We don't mind!" shouter Oliver as he was practically sitting on his desk now in excitement. All of the kids were bouncing with anticipation, and you couldn't stop smiling as Violet clapped her hands together.

"Great, because I brought my responses to your last batch of letters, too. I can't thank you enough for being my pen pals for the last few months. You made my time away from home a lot more fun." He turned to look at you before softly adding, "And you made coming back home feel really good."

You wanted to kiss him again. You wanted to run your fingers along his scars and press your lips to his skin in their wake. You wanted to bury your nose against his neck and inhale the smell of his skin and his uniform collar. You wanted to feel his mustache on your lips. Instead, because every eye in the room was on the two of you, you told him, "I'm really happy you're here." You tugged on his hand so he was standing front and center, and you turned to your kids and asked, "What do we say when we have a special guest visit us?"

"Thank you!" they all shouted in unison.

"That's right," you told them. Then you looked up at Bradley, and he handed you the flowers with a crooked little grin, and that's when you noticed he had a small notebook in his hand as well. 

"Can I call each kid up to get their letter?" he asked, as if you would deny him anything at the moment. "Then I can put faces to all of the names."

You were still definitely at risk of melting. "You wrote each of them a personal letter again?" you asked him, holding your flowers to your chest and trying not to swoon.

"Yeah," he replied, opening his notebook to show you. He stood there, looking devastatingly sexy, tearing out a page for every kid. He called each of them up and talked to them for a minute. He remembered the name of Jayden's dog. He remembered that Violet loved neon-colored everything. He remembered that Henry said his grandfather was in the Navy. He remembered so much, and he was so willing to indulge all of their questions.

You just stood there with your flowers and watched this endearing man captivate all nineteen of you with his words. He let Oliver try on one of his insignia pins. He drew a diagram of an aircraft carrier on your white board. He met your gaze more often than not. He smiled at you every time he did. He told your students that the reason they were so smart was because you were such a good teacher. The butterflies were here to stay now.

When you looked around, you noticed that your kids were cherishing their personal notes just like you were your flowers. You didn't want this afternoon to end, and yet, as soon as the first bell rang at three o'clock, you jumped to attention. The sooner your students cleared out of the room for the weekend, the sooner you could hopefully have a few minutes alone with Bradley before he wanted to go home and rest.

"We need to pack up," you announced, finally setting the bouquet down on your desk while Bradly affixed his pin back on his uniform shirt.

"Do we have to?" whined Jayden. "Lieutenant Bradshaw like just got here!"

He had in fact been in your classroom for over two hours, but you couldn't blame them for wanting more. Bradley cleared his throat and looked at you as he said, "I could come back again?" with that sincere gaze you were already weak for. "Spend a few more hours answering questions? Maybe bring some engine parts with me?"

You bit your lip before you could whimper out loud, and he started to head in your direction. "We would love that," you told him.

"Yeah?" he asked you as your kids erupted into a rowdy mob, grabbing all of their belongings as the final bell rang.

"Mmhmm," you hummed, waving lazily to your students as they shouted their goodbyes to both you and Bradley. His steps had him reaching you right as the last few kids left your room, and you whispered, "You'll come back?"

He reached for your hand as he said, "I'll do anything you want, Gorgeous." He must have been able to read the needy look on your face, because when you tugged on his hand, he came all the way to you. His other hand ended up at your waist as his lips found yours, and this time, the feather light kisses deepened as you parted your lips. Bradley groaned softly, kissing you just right, and then he whispered, "I've been dying for this."

Your arms went around his neck, kissing him a little frantically, melting at his touch and the feel of his soft, wavy hair between your fingers. "Me too," you told him before pulling his bottom lip gently between yours. He backed you up until you bumped into your desk, and all you could think about was how good his weight would feel on top of you.

Your skin felt too hot when he finally broke the kiss, panting softly as you ran your thumb along his scars. "I didn't like not hearing from you the past two weeks," you told him, and his brown eyes softened even as his hold on you tightened a little bit. "It was... kind of scary."

"I didn't like it either," he told you. "And I was going to text you immediately when we docked this morning, but then I decided to just come here instead." He grinned as your fingers crept back up into his hair. "If they didn't let me sign in with my military ID in the front office, I don't know what I would have done. I just wanted to see you."

You kissed his chin and said, "Usually I hate surprises. But this one was perfect."

"Okay, see, that's good information to know," he rasped. "I only got a ride home long enough to throw my duffle in the front door and hop in my Bronco. I stopped for the flowers, and then I just wanted to get here with my notebook."

You tipped your head back and whispered, "How am I supposed to deal with how sweet you are?"

"Oh! That reminds me," he muttered, rubbing his hand along your back before releasing you and strolling over to where he left his notebook on Oliver's desk. The way your body wanted you to follow him was surprising, but it gave you a chance to look at him again from head to toe as you stood next to your desk. There was nothing out of place on this man, and you pressed your lips together as his bicep flexed against his shirt sleeve. He tore another sheet of paper from his notebook and said, "I have one more note to deliver."

He walked back over to you, and when he held it up with a hopeful look, you took it from him and read.

Hey, Gorgeous. I couldn't wait one more minute to see you. And now that I'm here, I don't want today to end. Is there any way I can convince you to let me take you out for our first official date tonight instead of tomorrow? Bradley

When you looked up from the page, his eyebrows were raised, and that crooked little grin was hovering close to the surface. "I know I said to plan for tomorrow, but I can't fucking wait that long."

You bit down on your lip, shocked by how much better today turned out to be than you could have ever imagined earlier this morning. "Yeah. You've convinced me, Bradley. Tonight sounds perfect."

With that, you were treated to a little smirk beneath his mustache. He carefully took the sheet of notebook paper from your hands, set it down next to the flowers on your desk and proceeded to kiss you senseless.

----------------------------

He's going to make me hyperventilate. Those kids were SO excited to have him in their classroom, but they were nowhere near as excited as Gorgeous! He's home! And he wants to have his beach picnic and takeout and makeout sesh immediately. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[yanderestarangel]

So I just finished reading the newest Bi Han fic that you fed us with and now it got me thinking. If it’s fine with you, how well would he take care of (ftm) reader when he finds how that the reader is pregnant? And how well of a father Bi Han would be himself?

This is my first time asking for something like this. So if you don’t want to do it, then it’s completely fine!!

Have a nice day🦾

headcanons mk1 ┊father bi han x pregnant reader

TW ┊ftm reader, pregnancy, first time parents, fluff, soft Bi Han, cute headcanons, little smut, breedkink, breasts, pussy etc are mentioned to refer to the reader, lactation, sex during pregnancy, childbirth, gender neutral baby.

a/n: I see him as a father figure... Father of my children.

໒ Sorry to place your order just now, I'm a bit busy with other things, btw, I hope you like it <3

Bi Han was still a surprise for him to discover that you were pregnant with his baby. But it wasn't a negative surprise... In fact, deep down he always wanted that, even if you would only find out later.

It was a surprise for him, but not for you, after all, every time you had sex for a year it was without a condom and Bi Han always ended up inside — and with all his commitment to being grandmaster he totally forgot this crucial detail, it was obvious that One time or another, even with your care, some mistake was going to happen and after the last meeting between the two of you, you soon started to feel nauseous and even feel sick at the smell of your own boyfriend.

So with all the suspicions, you took a pregnancy test hidden from the cyromancer — and confirming all the clear signs of the last few days... the two lines confirmed that you would be a father. You obviously got tense, cried and despaired, having a mild panic attack in the bathroom of your shared house with him. You didn't know how to think or what to think, but you knew you couldn't hide it from him.

You sent a few messages and called him soon after, you didn't usually send so many messages while he was at work so he immediately got worried and returned your calls as quickly as he could. You cried on the other end of the line while Bi Han's deep voice showed concern and irritability, precisely because you made him nervous and didn't get straight to the point.

"Calm down, breathe, what happened my boy? I can't understand you with you sobbing like that."

The sentence was punctuated with a heavy sigh coming from him and he was practically getting ready to go home to see you, when you dropped the bomb that you were pregnant, with him, you were going to be parents. You expected shouting, swearing and a heated argument, but all you received was silence and then a calm sigh heard from you on the other end of the line.

"I'll be home in a few minutes, have a glass of water and calm down, let's talk about this ok? And no, I'm not mad at you."

That was all you heard before he hung up, his voice was so soft that it scared you, but instead of you becoming desperate you just did as he told you, trying to calm down a little. You heard his heavy footsteps arrive and soon Bi Han's tall shadow was seen by you, before any words you just felt his muscular arms squeeze you tightly in a tight and safe hug, a silent way of saying that he was with you. you and not against you... It was his non-verbal way of saying that he also wanted that.

"I was really surprised, I won't be a hypocrite and lie that I expected you to get pregnant with me now but... You are my boyfriend, the man I am sharing my precious time and moments of my intimate life with, details that only you and I know, I trust you my boy, and I want you to trust me, I'm more than happy to know that I'm going to be a father with you."

A barely visible smile could be seen on the killer's thin lips as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"Regardless of everything, I will accompany you my love, I will be with you and sincerely?"

He paused, getting out of the grip and making you look deep into his brown eyes.

"You're going to be a handsome man with a round belly running around the house and carrying my children."

The dreaded Sub zero, was... happy, almost as if the heat had returned to his body, his large, cold hand was now warmer as it found your belly with no sign of swelling, for now. Soon after that, you felt the tears come, as the two of you hugged each other tightly and felt the fear and uncertainty be replaced by a warm feeling of welcome and a prosperous future. You knew that even if he was a cold man, for you, he could change into his best version to see you smile.

When your belly started to take shape, even if small, Bi Han became even more protective than he was. You weren't even lifting a finger to do anything at your house — he woke up earlier, cleaned the house, the dishes and left lunch ready for you while he prepared his lunch to take to the Lin Kuei or some money to eat at a restaurant next.

But that didn't mean he was going to leave you aside, on the contrary, his lunch hours were extended so he could stop by your house and check if you were okay or needed anything - his cell phone, which was previously on silent mode ; now all the notifications were turned on and the volumes were high enough so that he would already be aware of any signal from you. He would fill you with messages and would constantly send some Lin Kuei recruit to deliver a basket of fruit and sweets to you and he would always check if you ate everything.

"I want to see you well fed, you're going to be a father, you're pregnant with the future heir of the Lin Kuei in your belly so you better eat well, do you hear me, baby boy?"

Bi Han would be serious and placing a hot and appetizing plate of food for you as soon as he returned from the clan, he would make sure to feed you every day and make sure you didn't skip any meals.

He became more attached to you too, making a point of accompanying you to every medical appointment you needed to go to and at the baby's first ultrasound he couldn't hold back the tears that insisted on coming down, he didn't really care about the baby's sex as long as the child would be healthy and well and that you too would be well in the process.

He felt like he was in a sweet dream, seeing you looking beautiful walking around the house with a growing baby bump — you had become needier and he didn't deny that he loved it. Seeing you all touchy holding his biceps while he held you from behind and felt your belly, watching your breasts fill with milk and smiling mischievously.

"My boy is all affectionate, isn't he? You're more beautiful this way, you know? Round, with those beautiful breasts that are even more swollen... I can massage them if they're too heavy."

The ninja teased you by seeing the pout you made while he smiled and touched your breasts, his cold hands helped with the constant pain you were suffering from the formation of milk in your mammary glands. And soon after, this ends in sex, more affectionate and careful sex, since at that point your belly was already big and heavy enough and he didn't particularly want to hurt your baby. So Bi Han would always go from behind and slowly insert his dick into your pussy, holding your belly and making you use his body as a safety bar, not wanting to let you fall or get hurt. Soft strokes were given by him inside your wet hole while hoarse grunts could be heard coming from your boyfriend, his balls beat rhythmically at the entrance to your cunt while he placed kisses across your shoulders.

"You're such a beautiful man... Fuck-- do you know how hard it makes me? Knowing that you're going to be mine forever--? That we're going to have a family together? Do you know how much I love you?"

He obviously loved your body, especially the extra weight you gained during pregnancy, it was soft, sweet and he wanted to sink into your flesh.

"I can't believe my boy is so excited... Even pregnant."

He moaned as he squeezed your breasts lightly and made some milk come out of the nipples, licking his fingers and tasting the sweet taste. After a few thrusts he would pull out of your pussy and finish outside, cumming in his own hand so as not to dirty your insides and make it difficult for you to clean yourself.

"I promise I will breed your little pussy as soon as our child is born... I will get you pregnant again later, I promise."

The birth was something different and difficult, a storm of emotions ran through his mind when he saw his water break and the clear liquid coming down your legs — luckily he was late that day and managed to be home when you needed him. He saw the pain and despair in your eyes and didn't even imagine how much it must hurt.

"Calm down, calm down ok? Take a deep breath, shh... Yes exactly like that, good boy, let's go to the hospital. I'm with you on this ok? Look at me."

Bi Han would calm you down as he picked up your bag with the necessary things and put you in his car, driving impatiently and taking you to the nearest hospital.

The hours passed slowly as he practically made a hole in the marble floor beneath his feet, with his arms behind him, he heard your screams in the room and tried not to do anything crazy. He even felt his ice powers go out of control, but he took a deep breath and calmed down, thinking that in a few hours he could have you in his arms again... When the doctor came to inform him of the birth of his child he practically left running to see you in the living room, with the little baby already cradled in your arms, you were tired, sweaty and pale... But he swore to everything that he had never seen a more beautiful man in his entire life. Tears came out of his eyes again and he finally cried as he held on for fear of breaking the little baby you two had made.

"They looks like me..."

Bi Han said, trying not to let his most vulnerable side show but it was in vain, as he leaned over to kiss you on the forehead.

"You got it my prince, you gave me the most precious thing in my life, you are such a strong father..."

He said with a silly smile and saw the nurse take the baby from his arms to place it back in yours, to the little child to feed. The cyromancer observed everything and mentally promised to be the opposite of his father, to be a good father and really take care of you and his child, not to make the same mistakes in his upbringing that he had. And he kept that promise. You didn't need to wake up every time the baby cried, Bi Han did it for you and only in cases where you needed to feed the child did he wake you up, watching the baby sleep again in your arms while kissing you on the temple, apologizing for having disturbed your sleep — he also took a month's vacation from the Lin Kuei to spend the whole day looking after your child, you could see the dark circles under his eyes getting bigger but he didn't feel obliged to rest for more hours, the feeling of being a father was incredible for him, and he has never been happier in his life.

"I'm fine my pretty boy, our little snowflake fell asleep again and I don't want to wake them up..."

The grand master smiled tiredly as you saw the baby sleeping on his chest and he just let you, closing his eyes rhythmically but returning to waking up at every sign of the baby moving. Overall, 10/10, he's really pleased to have gotten his boyfriend pregnant and have a family to call his.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

I see you have your requests open. Maybe something about reader getting majorly injured? Like car accident or something. And the boyfriend Eddie hearing about it?

Request by @mugloversonly 💌💞

Eddie found out about your accident in the middle of Hellfire. The club was knee deep in the current campaign, he has thrown himself into it since you had been gone for two days at a cheer competition.

He never expected that the first time he would fall in love (after many cynical years of believing it to be a load of bullshit) that it would be with someone from the dark side.

But you were different from Jason and the rest, Eddie fell for you instantly as you did for him. Six months later and he was still in a blissful state. He missed you like crazy and he couldn't wait to see you tomorrow when you were back from the competition.

Suddenly Dustin's walkie talkie crackles to life and he hears Steve Harrington's voice.

"Dustin, I just heard from Robin who's friends with Alice on the cheer team. Princess was in an accident" Eddie doesn't hear much after that. In fact his blood runs cold and he immediately jumps into action.

"Gentlemen and lady, he nods to Erica' We will have to reconvene another time" all he can think about is getting to you.

All he heard was the word accident and he was taken back to when he heard the news that his mom died. He feels as numb as he did at six years old when he realised his mom wasn't coming home.

His eyes blur and he wipes the tears away hastily. No. You would be fine this wasn't like that. He wishes he'd asked how you got injured but Eddie reacted before he could do so.

He drives to the hospital in blind panic and argues with the nurse on reception that confirms you arrived at the hospital half an hour ago.

The frustration is building. He just wants to see you and hold you. Before he can argue some more Chief Jim Hopper has his hand on Eddie's shoulder to calm him.

"It's okay son, she's fine. I'll take you to see her okay?" Eddie nods as relief seeps into his bones.

"What happened?" He demands and Jim explains that when you and some of your cheer friends went for a celebratory dinner after winning the competition, a reckless driver nearly drove into your path. You moved at the last second but fell on the pavement and broke your arm.

"I've already arrested the little punk" Hopper confirms before Eddie can think of making the dickhead driver suffer.

Hopper has to restrain Eddie the minute he sees the guy being led out of the ward he was on in handcuffs, there's not a scratch on him and Eddie feels his anger rise again.

Only the thought of seeing you keeps him calm.

As soon as he sees you he's at your side at once. You're fast asleep, arm in a sling and he feels a rush to protect you from anything that could ever hurt you. He never wants to see you lying on a hospital bed again, the thought physically pains him.

Gently he takes your hand and reaches down to kiss your forehead. This wakes you and you smile brightly even though you must be in pain.

"Eddie" he exhales in relief when your beautiful eyes focus on him. He's so happy that you're awake but he's still furious at the dickhead who put you in here in the first place.

He's not a violent guy but if he ever got his hands on the asshole, then there would be hell to pay.

"Princess, I was so worried" a moment passes between the two of you where you both cling to each other, soothed by each other's presence.

"I'm okay, my arm is broken and I have a few bruises but I'm fine, might need my handsome boyfriend to play doctor for a couple of weeks" you tease and he chuckles, he'd do anything for you.

"I'll be the best doctor you've ever seen sweetheart, might spoil my patient a little bit though" (well a lot)

He will make sure you're comfortable, loved and that you don't have to lift a finger, this whole situation could have been a whole lot worse and he's just grateful that his princess will be okay.

♥️♥️♥️

[azzibuckets]

COMPLETE MESS [part one | paige bueckers]

paige bueckers x teacher!oc

summary: natasha meets one of her students’ sisters, and she’s enthralled

a/n: lmk if yall want me to make more parts!

word count: 3.3k

masterlist

I stretched out my back with a groan. I loved teaching; it had been my dream job since I was a kid, but sometimes it drained the life out of my bones. Third graders could be an absolute menace, especially on days like today where they’d figured out how to make paper airplanes and had started flying them across the room, sneakily giggling whenever my back was turned.

It didn’t help that later tonight would be open house, when the families of students would come to visit the school to see for themselves what their children have been learning and working on for the past few months. The parents were always nice enough, but it was a drag having to clean up the classroom, hang up everyone’s projects, and decorate the walls and desks.

I checked my watch. Half an hour to go. I knew some eager children hauling their parents along would start arriving soon, so I smoothed down my skirt. I had to make good impressions, considering the fact that a lot of parents didn’t take me seriously because of how young I was.

Wanting to greet parents in the hallway as they entered my classroom, I stepped outside, but there must have been someone waiting directly outside the door because I heard a thump and a little “Ow!” Panicking at the idea of having just sent a little kid sprawling to the fooor in front of their parents, I rushed around the door, breathing in relief when I only saw one of my students, Drew, with no parents in sight.

“Drew, buddy,” I laughed. “What’re you doing?”

Drew pouted, trying to collect the pieces of Legos that were now scattered across the floor. “I was waiting because the door was locked and you hit me!”

I bent down and started picking up Lego pieces. “What have I told you about standing there, Drew?” I reminded him. Drew was one of my favorite students - he was hyper and often forgot about things like not standing behind the door, but he was so cheerful and positive all the time that I couldn’t help but always smile at his mischievous antics.

“I know, I just got excited! My mom and dad are coming to see my Lego project and so is my big sister!”

I ruffled his hair. “Your big sister! Woah! I would love to meet her.” I couldn’t remember her name, I think it started with a P, but Drew talked about her all the time, and I could tell that he absolutely adored her. “Where are your parents, by the way? You’re very early.”

“I made them come early,” Drew explained, finally grabbing the last Lego and dumping all the pieces unceremoniously into his backpack. “But Paige had to pee, so they went to the bathroom. I think I was supposed to wait outside for them but I wanted to come here!”

“Alright.” I got up, offering a hand to Drew, who accepted but pulled so hard he almost dragged me down again. “Come inside and sit while you wait. But don’t mess around, alright?”

Much to my surprise, Drew stayed quiet in his seat, not making any noise. I busied myself with adjusting the posters on the wall for what seemed like the hundredth time. A piece of tape had gotten loose on one of the papers, and just as I reached to fix it, the entire poster came tumbling to the ground. Signing, I bent down to pick it up.

“Damn, I could study this,” a deep voice whistled from behind me.

I immediately straightened myself, mortified. Cheeks burning, I turned around to reprimand whoever had just made a ridiculously inappropriate joke in a classroom setting, with a student sitting just feet away.

Leaning against the doorway was a blonde woman, whose hair was pulled back into a clean ponytail with shockingly no flyaways. She looked young, but was intimidatingly tall. Although she wasn’t smiling, her deep blue eyes were dancing with amusement, her slightly cocked eyebrows showing intriguement. Both hands were stuffed into the pocket of her sweatpants, her stance nonchalant. Whoever she was, she was gorgeous, with one of those faces people would pause and look back at if they passed on the street.

My mouth opened, but all semblances of what was supposed to be a lecture on respecting women faded. I didn’t know why my throat was suddenly dry, my heart suddenly pounding against my chest so hard I feared my ribs would break.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to end up saying anything, because Drew jumped up from his seat and ran to the blonde. “Miss Natasha!” he exclaimed. “Meet Paige, my sister!”

My eyebrows shot up. This was Drew’s sister? All this time, you’d been imagining a timid and sweet girl, not someone who was dressed in basically pajamas but still looked like they stepped out of a magazine.

Paige stepped closer to me, a dangerous smirk playing on the edge of her lips. “I’m Paige Bueckers,” she introduced herself. “Very nice to meet you.”

My jaw tightened. I didn’t appreciate this girl’s cocky attitude. I’ve known girls like Paige before; sexy and alluring, but with egos up their asses, who thought that they could flirt with you and do whatever they wanted because they were drop dead gorgeous. Especially considering the treatment I often faced, with fathers of my students often making suggestive remarks and creepy innuendos, causing their wives to get angry at me as if it was my fault that their husbands couldn’t stop ogling at someone twenty years younger than them. So you finally gathered your courage. “I don’t know who you think you are,” you said lowly, trying not to let Drew hear, “but you don’t get to come into my classroom and start making unseemly advancements. Especially in front of my students.”

Paige’s eyes flitted down, tracing my face and dropping for a second to my lips before slowly dragging its way down my body. She was blatantly and unashamedly undressing me with her eyes, and I almost reached for my jacket.

“Unseemly,” she echoed, nodding to herself. “Yeah. Definitely a teacher.”

I rolled my eyes, already frustrated. “Drew,” you said sweetly, bending down to look him in the eye. “Where are your parents?”

“They ran into one of his friends’ parents,” Paige responded for him. “But I’m here. Why don’t you walk me through everything, teach?”

I loathed myself for the way my heart skipped a beat at her stupid nickname. “It’s hard to walk you through Drew’s progress this trimester if you’re constantly trying to flirt with me,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

“Paige, stop making Miss Natasha mad!” Drew intervened, giving his sister a little push and running to give you a hug. You smiled gratefully at the little boy, taking delight in the way Paige’s eyes narrowed with jealousy.

“Whatever, I can be chill. But I actually wanna see the projects Drew’s been talking about, so can we get started?” The blonde asked impatiently, as if she hadn’t been the one obnoxiously flirting.

So you started showing Drew’s works that he’d created the past few months. When you got to the Lego Fortnite set he’d built, he’d started rambling about the project and going into a detailed explanation of how he built it. You could see Paige attentively listening at first, but as Drew kept talking, her attention slowly shifted to you.

“Whenever we Facetime, Drew talks about his teacher a lot,” Paige mused quietly as Drew paused his tangent to look over the set and make sure all the pieces were intact. “It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.” Her eyes darted to you again, and you wondered at how anybody ever talked to this girl with how intense her stare was.

You bit your lip. It was always nice seeing the impact you made on your kids; it made all the hard work and tears worth it. It’s what you’ve always aimed to do - change their lives. “Thank you,” you said softly. “Same with you. Drew won’t ever shut up about you, especially at recess when the kids are playing basketball. You play, right?”

Paige’s eyes shined, a smile forming on her face. “I am. I play at UConn.”

You gaped at her. “Please don’t tell me you’re a freshman in college.” Although she had been the one making the innuendos, it still made you uncomfortable at the idea of an 18 year old even thinking about you this way.

Thankfully, Paige shook her head. “I’m 22. A senior. You?”

“I’m 24.”

Paige grinned again. “Perfect. Not too old for me then.”

You rolled your eyes, your annoyance returning. “Do you have no shame? I could have a significant other for all you’d know. I’m also your brother’s teacher.”

Paige tilted her head, studying me. “Do you have a significant other?” Her tone made it clear that she already knew the answer.

“That’s not important,” I said looking away. The corners of Paige’s lips turned upwards, and I wanted to punch the satisfaction off her face.

“I’ve actually always thought teachers were very attractive,” Paige murmured, her tone now husky. She leaned in closer to me, one hand stabilizing herself on the desk. “With their glasses and their skirts.” Her tongue darted out, wetting her bottom lip.

“I’m not wearing glasses,” I stammered. Every cell in my body was screaming at myself to back away and create some distance between me and this random girl, but I couldn’t.

“Maybe not, but you’re wearing a skirt. Although to be honest, I’d like it better if there was nothing there at all,” she rasped. She leaned in closer, the atmosphere between us now charged, but at the same moment Drew’s parents walked in.

I immediately jumped up and stumbled backwards, humiliated at having been caught in such a position with their daughter. I chastised myself - how could I be acting so unprofessionally while on the job? We hadn’t done anything wrong, per se, but the proximity we’d been sitting in was definitely way beyond what was appropriate for a teacher and one of their students’ family members.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bueckers!” I squeaked, clearing my throat and ignoring the way Paige started smirking as she observed my awkwardness. “So nice to see you guys again!”

Bob Bueckers looked curiously between the two of us, but nonetheless he stuck out his hand and flashed a friendly smile. “Miss Natasha! How have you been?”

I re-explained to the Bueckers all of Drew’s activities and achieevments, but this time with Paige silently burning me with her relentless gaze from behind her dad and step-mom. Every time I glared at her in an effort to get her to stop, her intensity only increased. I hated how flustered she was able to make me without even saying a word, so as soon as I finished, I quickly excused myself to talk to other parents.

Somewhere in the midst of my conversations with other families, the Bueckers disappeared, and I assumed they went to visit Drew’s other teachers. I tried to get Paige out of my mind, but for the entire night her face was burned into the back of my mind, God knows why. It seemed like the longest night ever - an endless stream of parents all fighting for my attention so they could talk about their kid, combined with my short interactions from Paige earlier that night still nagging at me. Unsurprisingly, I was completely exhausted by the time open house night ended.

It was almost 10 PM when I finished cleaning and wrapping up for the night. I locked up my classroom and headed to the bathroom for a quick pit stop before leaving. As I walked past the gym, though, I swore I heard sounds filtering in from under the doors. I paused, unsure of what to do. The gym was definitely supposed to be closed by now; almost the entire school was empty and dark save a couple janitors and lingering teachers. But it was getting late, and I honestly didn’t want to have to deal with another issue. Besides, I wasn’t sure if I even heard a noise.

So I turned around and kept walking, until a loud giggle followed by a “Shhh!” turned my feet right back. Marching to the front entrance, I tried to open the doors, but was met with resistance. Huffing, I pushed harder, but whoever was on the other end was strong. I gave one last push before jogging to the side entrance. This time, the door opened with ease, showing a completely empty gym - except for a familiar blonde woman and one of your students leaning against the doors at the front entrance.

Heat flooded your cheeks, and this time it wasn’t from embarrassment, but from anger. “Are you serious right now?” I stomped aggressively towards the two culprits, both of whom looked like guilty children that’d just been caught eating chocolate in the middle of the night - except one was a 22 year old college student who definitely knew better. “I cannot believe this is real right now.” I ran your head through my hair, my voice shocked with disbelief. “How did you even get in here?” I looked around, realizing that there had to be at least 20 basketballs scattered across the floor of the gym. “And where did all these balls come from?”

Paige scratched the back of her neck, sheepishness on her face. “Uh, we might’ve found a way to get into the storage room.”

“How did you even get inside the gym in the first place?” You shrieked, trying not to lose full control over yourself.

Paige winced. “I might’ve taught Drew how to pick locks? And he was trying to show me how much he’s been practicing.” She looked over at her little brother in desperation, who in turn ran behind her and started hiding behind her legs. “I mean, I didn’t think he’d actually be able to unlock the gym when he started showing me!” Paige justified. “But then he unlocked it and then I saw the court and I couldn’t not get a few hoops in.” She trailed off at that last part, slowly realizing how ridiculous she sounded.

“Oh my god.” I started frantically running around, chucking basketballs into the cart. “Never in my two years of teaching have I seen such unapologetic inappropriate behavior.” I turned around and jabbed a finger in Paige’s direction, my chest heaving with exertment. “You are single handedly worse than my entire class of third graders combined.”

Paige’s mouth dropped open. “Hey! This was Drew’s idea!”

“Paigeeee!” Drew whined, cowering further behind his older sister.

After collecting several more balls, I gave up. I slumped down on the floor. “Unbelievable,” I uttered to myself. “Unbelievable. A 22 year old breaking into school property and blaming it on her 8 year old brother. Unbelievable!”

Paige hesitantly walked nearer to me, concern in her eyes. “Stop,” I threatened once she got within a few feet. “Or I might bite.”

Paige started to laugh, but the look I sent her was so menacing that she immediately shut up. “Hey,” she said softly. “Look, I’m sorry. But what’s the big deal? It’s not like you’re gonna get in trouble for anything.”

“I just wanted to go home,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “It’s 10 PM and today has been the longest day of my life.”

I startled when I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder. Looking up, I was surprised to see the face of Drew. “I’m sorry, Miss Nat,” he whispered, regret in his eyes. “But Paige hasn’t been home in forever and she said she would help me with basketball when she came back. We didn’t mean to make you mad.”

I knew it shouldn’t, but my heart melted at his words. This is why you’re weak, I cursed to myself. A pair of puppy dog eyes and you’re all bent up. Shaking my head slowly, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves.

“Hey,” Paige interrupted. “The damage is already done. This gym is unlocked and I’m pretty sure everyone else has left. Why don’t we show you what we’ve been working on so you know we haven’t been up to no good?”

I got up from my crumpled position on the floor, tightly gripping my purse. “No,” I said wearily. “I think I’m okay. I just wanna get some sleep at home.”

“Please,” Drew begged. “Can I show you just one of my shots? Paige said it looks a lot better from last time!”

“Just one!” Paige joined in. “One won’t hurt.”

I stared at the two of them, both of them with their hands interlocked as if they were praying, their eyes eager and hopeful. I couldn’t even believe myself, but the words tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop it. “Fine. Just one.”

“Yessss!” The two siblings high fived each other and I fought back a smile, trying to maintain my serious demeanor.

“You aren’t ready for this,” Paige smirked, and you only rolled your eyes in response. “Alright, ready bud?”

“Ready!” Drew called back, bouncing excitedly up and down on the balls of his feet. He started sprinting down the court, and Paige quickly passed him a ball.

He dribbled between his legs, almost losing it but recovering as he made his way to the net. “Drew Bueckers on a breakaway!” Paige narrated, cupping her hands around her mouth as she mimicked a sports commentator. “Three seconds remaining on the shot clock!”

Drew started making his way closer to the net, dribbling behind his back and faking out ghost defenders.

“Three….”

Drew landed on his right foot and pivoted.

“Two….”

Drew spun on his foot and faced the basket.

“One….”

Right before Paige finished counting down, Drew cocked his arm and released, sending the ball flying up and then down, straight into the net for a perfect layup.

“And he scooooooreeees!” Paige howled, running towards her brother and wrapping him up in a hug. This time, I couldn’t help it. I found myself smiling the hardest I’d smiled all night as I watched Paige swing Drew around as his infectious giggles filled the room.

“See?” Paige yelled to me once she set him down. “Wasn’t that epic?”

“So epic.” I beamed at the boy, who was now looking at me shyly. I cleared my throat. “But now we gotta clean up before someone finds this and gets yall in trouble.”

“Ooh, so she’s on our side now!” Paige poked Drew in the ribs teasingly, and he scampered away, laughing as he started picking up balls on the other side of the gym.

Paige turned to you, her expression serious now. “I think it’s your turn.”

“What?” I took a step back. “No, I think I’m actually good.”

“You not up for a little challenge?” Paige picked up a ball and spun it on one of her fingers, and I couldn’t deny that she looked incredibly hot while doing it.

“I can shoot a ball,” I insisted, folding my arms. “I just don’t want to right now.”

“Bull.” Paige extended her arm, offering the ball to you. “I bet you can’t make it from here.”

“Are you serious? We’re like three feet from the net!” I scoffed. I haven’t really shot many basketballs in my life, but how hard could it be? The net was right there.

“Alright, then shoot it.” When I stared at her blankly, still refusing to take the ball, Paige tossed it to me so that I was forced to catch it. “We’re not leaving till you shoot.”

Sighing, I bounced the ball once. Praying that the ball would land somewhere around the net, I launched it. The ball hit the backboard, slowly rolling around the rim of the net before falling to the side. I rolled my eyes. “That basically counts.”

Paige stifled a laugh. “If that basically counted, I’d be the all time leading scorer in the NCAA by now.” I pushed her, unamused. “Hey, now.” Paige picked up another ball. “I’ll teach you.”

I backed up, about to protest, but Paige stepped closer to me, so close that I could feel her breath hitting my skin, and I suddenly lost all ability to move. The blonde swallowed, her eyes darting to my lips for barely a moment before she refocused on the ball. Gently, she placed the ball in my hands, then stepped behind me. I felt hands grab my waist and pull me to her. When my hips suddenly collided with hers, I let out a gasp of surprise.

“Relax,” she murmured into my ear, her warm breath fanning my cheek. “You’re so tense.”

Her hands let go of my hips, and my body ached for the loss of her warmth until her arms wrapped around my own and guided them to the position she wanted. After my arms were in the right form, she positioned my legs and feet with her hands. Every time she touched me, her fingers lingering, I felt light headed, as if my blood sugar was about to crash.

“Okay,” she breathed, stepping back to take a look. “Beautiful.” I had a feeling she wasn’t only talking about my shooting form, and my heart lurched.

“Shoot.”

This time when I let the ball go, it reached the net, sliding through with a satisfying swoosh. I let out a little shout and turned around, giving Paige a bright smile. She chuckled at my excitement. “Good, huh?” she teased.

“You’re not bad,” I responded as nonchalantly as I could. A little flirting never hurt anyone.

She raised an eyebrow. “Not bad, huh? You should come to one of my games. You’ll see how ‘not bad’ I really am.”

“Go to one of your games?” I smiled suggestively, closing the distance between us until we were closer than we’d been before. I licked my lips. “You’re moving a little fast, Bueckers.”

“Fast,” Paige repeated, her voice throaty. “That’s how I roll.” I finally let my eyes fall to her lips, finally noticing how pink and soft they looked.

My hands somehow landed on her chest. Her fingers touched my chin, tilting it upward. Before I knew it, her lips were on mine, and I was on fire. I grazed her cheeks with my fingertips, her skin hot and flushed under my touch. She’d barely brushed her lips against mine though, when a basketball suddenly dropped, pulling me into my senses.

I jumped back, staring in disbelief at the blonde. Her hair was slightly mussed up, her eyes darkened as she watched me. “Oh my god,” I whispered to myself. “Oh my god, you just kissed your student’s sister.” I brought my fingers to my lips.

“That was barely a kiss,” Paige complained. “How about you c’mere and I’ll show you how it’s really done?”

“Fucking hell, no!” You steppped back from Paige, glancing over at Drew to see if he’d saw us. Thankfully, he was still preoccupied putting the basketballs away.

“You guys need to hurry and clean up. I gotta go tell the janitors to lock up the gym. You need to be gone from here before they come.” You turned around, frantically looking around for your purse. Once you spotted it, you grabbed it and started rushing out.

“Hey!” Paige yelled out, her hands to her side. “Where are you going?”

I swallowed hard, not responding as the doors of the gym slammed behind me. Ice traveled through my veins. How could I have gotten mixed up in that? If I’d gotten caught by one of my coworkers kissing one of my student’s family members in a gym that was broken into, I’d be fired on the spot. Getting this job had been hard enough - no one wanted a 24 year old female fresh out of college. I could not be participating in risky behavior like this.

Paige was attractive, no doubt. But she was also cocky, and arrogant, and Drew’s sister. She also lived in Connecticut. This would never work out, I reminded yourself. So when I went home and jumped in the shower, I tried to scrub off any memory of Paige’s tantalizing lips.

[arlana-likes-to-write]

You Look Happier

Part 4 of the Family, Pawns, and Sins of the Family

Summary: After every thing you've been though, it's time to move forward. While doing just that you run into a unlikely friend that looks past the scars you bare.

Warning: panic attack, mention of past abuse, suicidal thoughts, fluff, Kamala is a joy and I love her, small scene of a guy grabbing the reader, mention of nightmares, facing past abusers in court.

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: Ignore the fact that I said the next chapter of Second Chance will be posted today, I finished this one shot instead lol. Also, this will probably be the last part of this!

*

Healing was not linear. If this whole experience taught you one thing, it was that. Some days were good. They were great. You smiled and laughed without restraint. Those good days bleed into good weeks. Then, the darkness over your shoulder would rear its ugly head. All your hard work to overcome everything seemed pointless when you couldn’t leave your bed and your moms stayed by your side out of fear you would hurt yourself. There were close calls. The overwhelming urge sometimes became too much. You wanted to feel anything besides their hands on you.

Tonight was the end of a terrible day. You shut down after your therapy appointment. The mid-afternoon nap you took was ruined by a nightmare, and the court called, and they needed you to testify against Principal Cook. It was not your day. Still, you managed to pull yourself out of bed when the Avengers came over for a cookout. You sat at the fire pit with a marshmallow on the end of the stick. The flames engulfed the sticky treat and fell into the fire. Sighing, you blew out the flame and leaned back into the chair. You pulled the blanket to your chin and watched the get-together.

“Hey bug,” Natasha slid next to you. The chair was big enough for you two to sit comfortably without touching it, but you folded it against her. You buried your face in her shoulder and felt her hand draw shapes on your back. “How are you feeling?” Lying was never an option when they asked you this question. They would rather have the brutal, honest truth than a lie. It was a hard thing to overcome in the beginning.

“I’m,” Tired. Sad. Angry. “Struggling.” You sighed.

“Yeah,” Natasha kissed your forehead. “Today was a lot.” You nodded against her.

“Have you heard from the lawyers?” It was Natasha’s turn to sigh and kiss your forehead again.

“Not yet. They are talking with Cook’s defense team and hoping the man will take a plea deal.” You nodded and closed your eyes. The constant motion and her soft humming almost sent you to sleep. “Your mama and I have to go to the tower tomorrow. Is it okay to have your therapy session online?” The other thing was they refused to let you stay home alone on terrible days. It made sense. Through all of this, they wanted you to be safe.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “That’s fine.” There was no need to open your eyes because you knew there was a smile on her face.

“I love you, our firefly.”

“I love you too, mom.”

*

Today was better. Your therapist let you discuss your relationship with Wanda, Natasha, and the twins. It was a breath of fresh air to talk about something positive. The two Avengers were still in their meeting, so you waited for them on the common floor. It was half your fault. You were looking at your phone when a body slammed into you, causing you and your phone to fall to the ground. “Are you okay? Is your phone okay? Do you have a concussion?” You blinked at the girl with long brown hair and bright brown eyes. “Oh my god, I’ve concussed you.” She cried, placing her hands on top of her head.

“I’m not-wait. Who are you?”

“I’m Kamala Khan,” she offered you her hand, which you took to stand up.

“I’m-”

“Oh, I know who you are. Peter won’t stop talking about you. He says, You’re super cool.”

“I’m-” broken. Hurt. Sad. “Okay,” she laughed, and the sound erupted butterflies in your stomach. You noticed you were still holding her hand, and you dropped it suddenly. “Sorry,” you whispered. She smiled, picked up your phone, and looked it over.

“It’s not broken. I would have hated it if I gave you a concussion and broke your phone.” you were surprised by the laugh that you let out. It only made Kamala’s smile grow. “Here you go.”

“You should put your number in it,” a surge of confidence washed through you. Her eyebrows went up. “I mean, you did assault me. I think you owe me,” her mouth opened and closed like a fish. It was cute.

“I see why Peter likes you,” she said, handing you the phone so you could open it, and she quickly put her number on it. “I have to run-”

“Hopefully, not into someone again,” you said with a playful smile. She rolled her eyes.

“But I’ll see you again. Text me so I can have your number, too.” You waved bye as she ran off. Flopping onto the couch, you sent Kamala a simple hello with your name. For some reason, your cheeks were hurting from your smile.

*

You giggled at the funny meme Kamala sent you of Yelena and Kate that she made. You befriended the girl three days ago, and her goal seemed to make you smile. Even after a tough day at therapy, you were welcomed with messages from her that made it better. “Alright, enough,” your phone was ripped away from you. You gasped as you watched Yelena go through your phone. “You’ve been giggling all night. Who are you texting?”

“Mama, tell her to give me my phone back,” Wanda chuckled, standing over the stove to make dinner.

“Give her the phone back, Belova,” the witch laughed. “But I am curious who has got you smiling so much.” Yelena refused to give you the phone.

“First off, you’ve met Kamala,” she handed Wanda your phone. Instead of looking through it like the Black Widow, she returned it to you. “Second, I am going to kill her.” You smiled.

“We ran into each other at the tower,” you texted her, letting her know Yelena saw the memes she made. “Literally,” you mumbled. Every time you thought about how you met your new friend, you laughed. This was amplified when Kamala responded, saying you betrayed her trust.

“Hey,” Yelena snapped her fingers in front of your face. You jumped, not expecting it. “Your mama was talking to you.” The Blonde rolled her eyes and left the kitchen.

“Sorry,” you apologized. “What were you saying?” Wanda smiled with a shake of the head.

“I said dinner is almost ready. Can you go wash up and get your brothers?” You nodded and closed the book you were trying to read, but you were distracted by your phone. “And sweetheart,” you stopped to look at Wanda. “She’s making you smile a lot. Is there more going on?” You felt your body heat up.

“N-no,” you stuttered. “We are just friends,” Wanda smirked. “Mama, we are.”

“Okay, I’m just teasing,” you huffed and walked to your room. You dropped your textbooks and notebooks on your desk. Friends. That was all you and Kamala were. Nothing more. Right?

*

You were nervous as you stood outside Natasha’s home office. You could do this. You could do this. Knocking the door, you heard her voice on the other side telling you to come in. You entered and closed the door. “Hey bug, what -” she stopped mid-question. “Are you okay? You look like you are going to be sick.” Instead of answering, you walked to the front of her desk.

“Can I ask you something?” Natasha nodded, the worry evident on her face. “Can I go to the movies?” The Black Widow blinked at once, twice.

“Jesus, kid, you were about to give me a heart attack,” she let out a shaky breath and placed her hand on her chest for added effect. “Who would you be going with?”

“Uh Kamala,” you played with the fidget ring Yelena gave you after they saved you from Dmitri. “She and a few of her friends are in the city, and they invited me to see Detention Disaster with them.” It was a comedy. You looked at an in-depth review of it, so you knew nothing would trigger you.

“Are you sure? That’s a big step,” you knew what she meant. You rarely went anywhere besides the tower, the park down the street, and your brother’s school. Natasha and Wanda were with you even if you went somewhere outside your comfort zone.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, but you wouldn’t grow or heal if you stayed constant. “But I’d like to try.”

*

“That scene in the cafeteria was so funny,” Bruno said as he walked next to Nakia. “And it was shot so well,” Kamala chuckled and shook her head at her friend.

“Did you enjoy the movie?” She asked you. You were walking behind Bruno and Nakia.

“Yeah, it was funny.” Even after reading the very in-depth review, the movie still managed to make you laugh. Also, the comments Kamala and Bruno made to one another throughout the entire movie added another layer of comedy. They thought they were being quiet. Still, they walked no matter how often Nakia threw popcorn at them. You liked Kamala’s friends, who included you in their group.

“Hey, there is an arcade over here. Do you guys want to go?” Bruno asked. He stopped walking so you could catch up. The arcade was loud and unpredictable. There were too many things to account for.

“It’s up to you,” Kamala said. I can take you back home.” Home was safe and predictable—well, your brothers were not, but they knew your boundaries. But you shook your head.

“An arcade sounds fun,” you said. Today was good, and you wanted to keep hanging out with them. If they wanted to go to an arcade, then you would go no matter how much anxiety swirled in your stomach.

Luckily, it wasn’t busy. A small group of kids was at the basketball game, and some were looking at the prizes through the glass box. You bought a card with your tokens, and Kamala grabbed your hand to show you all her favorite games. You were worried that she thought you were clingy, but she kept a tight hold on you. Playing video games with your brothers helped you with some of the games. You beat Kamala on some of the two-player games.

It was fun, and you pretended you were a normal kid for a split second. No deep trauma that kept you awake at night. No scars that ached when it got cold. You were a kid having fun with her friends.

Until you walked alone as you decided on the next game, you needed a few more tickets and could get a new fidget toy. Suddenly, you felt a body crash against your back, and you stumbled forward. Your first thought of who it was was Kamala. For an Avenger, she was very clumsy. “Hey, watch where the fuck you are going,” you turned around to see a guy; he had to be 18.

“You ran into me,” you said. “You should listen to your advice.” You turned away, but he grabbed your arm and spun you back around. He pushed you against the arcade machine. The corner dug into your lower back, and you let out a pained yelp. Fear washed over you. His mouth was moving, but nothing he said mattered to you. It was happening again. Why? You felt frozen. The way his hands felt on you transported you to Jason, Conner, and Dmitri. Then, a new pair of hands were touching you.

“Hey, Y/n,” the voice said. “You’re safe. I need you to breathe for me.” Your chest felt tight, and it was impossible to get air into your lungs. “What do you need?”

“Hands,” you managed. “Get your hands off of me.” They were removed instantly, and you slid down to the ground, bringing your knees to your chest.

“You know you missed me kicking Bruno’s ass in basketball,” it was Kamala. Kamala was in front of you. “I mean, I was cheating, but don’t tell him that.” You managed a chuckle, which Kamala smiled. “Are you back with me?” You nodded, licking your dry lips. “Bruno and Nakia brought that guy to the manager, and he’s calling the police.” Again, you nodded. “Do you want me to call your parents?”

“No,” you finally spoke. The reality of the situation caught up with you, and embarrassment washed over you. You jumped to your feet. “Shit, sorry that was-”

“Whoa,” Kamala stood up slowly with her hand sup. “It’s okay. You did nothing wrong.” But you did, and if you just walked away from him, none of this would have happened. “No matter what happened, he should have never put his hands on you.” You nodded again. “Come on, let’s go somewhere more private.” She let you go to a small back room used for birthday parties. You were grateful she kept her hands to herself when she opened the door. You slumped in one of the chairs and placed your face in your hands. You heard Kamala sit in front of you. “Are you okay?” She finally asked. You sighed.

“I wanted today to be good and normal,” you said. “But it’s like one step forward and four steps back.”

“Isn’t that the point?” You removed your hands and looked at her. “Healing. Some days are better than others. It’s how it is,” she carefully took your hand, and you allowed her to. “And today was fun. I had fun hanging out with you.”

“I had fun, too,” you admitted. She smiled.

“These things will happen,” she continued. “And that is okay. There is nothing to be embarrassed about. I will be there to help you. If you want me to, at least,” she added quickly. You smiled.

“As long as I don’t scare you off.”

“You could never,” she spoke with so much confidence, and without hesitation, you almost believed her.

Delete Created with Sketch.

Today was a bad day. You had to go down to the courthouse to prepare for your testimony against Principal Cool. He wasn’t there, but you had to relive the whole ordeal. After that, Billy and Tommy begged to get ice cream. However, a man mistook you for someone else and grabbed you by the arm. The cherry on top was Kamala was on a mission with Carol. You missed the way she could make you smile and laugh.

It was past midnight. No matter how many times you tried to go to bed, every horrible thing flashed through your mind. Your phone buzzing caused you to jump, not expecting a phone call. Somehow, just seeing her name made you smile. It felt like your first genuine smile all day. “Hi,” you answered softly.

“Did I wake you up? I am so sorry. I can never figure out what time zone I’m in,” you giggled and rolled onto your back.

“No, I’ve been up. What are you doing calling me?” you asked. “I thought you said it was impossible to find cell service up there.” She was quiet, but you heard shuffling as if she was lying down.

“We usually can’t, but we found some. So Carol is calling Val, Monica is calling her mom, and I’m calling you.” Oh. That was a surprise.

“Why are you calling me?” She had her parents, brother, and her high school friends.

“Because I wanted to silly,” she answered. “Now, why can’t you sleep? Are you okay?”

“I’m,” Kamala knew bits and pieces of what happened to you. You strayed away from the more graphic details. It wasn’t easy to open up to your therapist. “I’m,” you sighed. “I miss you,” you admitted instead. Sometimes, it was easier to change the direction of the conversation.

“Awe, I miss you too,” you heard the smile in her voice. “I’ll be home soon, but you failed to answer my question.” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m tired,” you pushed the calm of your hand to your eye. And you were. You wanted to move past all of this and live a normal life.

“Get some sleep. I-shit. I’m sorry, I have to go. Carol needs me.” You were lucky she couldn’t see you, or she would have seen your frown. “Look, if you need anything, you call me, okay? I may not respond right away, but I’m here.” You nodded.

“Stay safe, superhero.”

“Always.”

*

Soft knocking woke you up. Slowly, you sat up and looked towards the sound. “Kamala,” you whispered. The girl was smiling on the other side of your window. You climbed over to it and opened it. “What are you doing?” She smiled.

“To see you. Can I come in? It’s cold,” you stepped out of the way, and she crawled through the window. It was a little clumsy. Her foot got caught on the window ledge. A small yelp, and she rolled off your bed and onto the floor. You cringed at the sound and were grateful that your room was on the first floor. Soon, your room was filled with laughter.

“Are you okay?” You closed the window. Kamala nodded and rubbed the back of her head.

“My pride took a hit,” you giggled and helped her. “Hi,” she smiled and sat down on your bed.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be in space?”

“Well,” she took off her shoes. “The mission is almost over, and Carol doesn’t need me, so she said I could go home.” You raised her eyebrows at her.

“The last time I checked, this isn’t your house,” she said, looking around the room with a confused expression.

“You know, I thought my room looked a little different. There are not enough Captain Marvel posters,” you rolled your eyes. Besides, Carol may not need me, but you do,” you looked at the ground. Kamala placed her arm around your shoulders. That’s okay, you know that? It’s okay to need people.” You shrugged.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you whispered. “You are an Avenger. You have more important things to worry about than someone as broken as me.” Kamala removed her arm and forced you to sit more on the bed. You crossed your legs to give her more room. She grabbed your hands.

“You are not broken. You are healing. That is a big difference. Soon, all these scars will heal,” you stared at your connected hands.

“What if whatever they broke inside me can never be fixed?” Kamala was quiet. She moved your hands so your palms were facing up. Her fingers were arms as she traced the lines on your hand.

“Then you learn to live without those parts,” she bite her lip. “When I discovered the true nature of my abilities, the old me was gone. I had to embrace the person I am now. It’s scary, terrifying really, but you have your family to help you,” she squeezes your hands. “You have me.” You looked at her, and she had a soft smile.

“Can you stay the night?” You whispered.

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” you stood up to get some clothes to change into. Once she was ready for bed, you climbed under the covers with her next to you. “For what it’s worth,” she broke the silence. “I think you are pretty great.” You bent your arm to rest your head on your hand. She was lying on her back.

“You think I’m pretty, superhero,” she rolled her eyes and mirrored the way you were laying.

“What if I did?” You raised your eyebrows in question. “I think you are pretty.”

“Oh,” you squeaked and cringed at the nose that escaped. “Scars and all?” You questioned.

“They are kind of badass,” she said. “Makes you all hot with the ladies.” She wiggled her eyebrows. You chuckled and pushed the girl on her shoulder. She fell onto her back.

“You are such a flirt.” You said.

“Just for you, khobsurat,” you titled your head at the foreign word. “It’s Urdu.”

“What does it mean?” You questioned. Kamala faced you.

“Beautiful.”

“I don’t know how to do this,” you admitted. You were never in a normal relationship. Everyone wanted something from you. Everyone tried to hurt you. “I’ve been hurt by so many people that promised not to.” Your biological parents used you to get money. Jason promised to love you. Principal Cook and Coach Griffo were hired to protect students. They all hurt you.

“I can’t promise I won’t mess things up because I’m an idiot,” you smiled. “I can be aggressively passionate, overwhelming, and loud, but I will never hurt you like they hurt you.” You nodded, looking down at the shapes on your blanket. “You don’t believe me.” You wanted to. You tried to jump head first, but you weren’t sure if your heart could handle any more heartbreak. It was already bruised, bandaged, and broken.

“I want to. It’s just-”

“Hard?” Kamala guessed. You nodded. “That’s okay. I’m not going anywhere,” she yawned, covering her mouth. “Sorry, that was rude.”

“Get some sleep. It’s been a long day.” She nodded and closed her eyes.

“Night, khobsurat,” she whispered. Was it weird that you watched her fall asleep? Maybe. But you liked how peaceful she looked. You weren’t sure when the last peaceful night of sleep you had. You were a little jealous. Sighing, you turned to your side and hoped for a nightmare-free sleep.

*

The sound of thundering footsteps woke you up. It was your only warning before your door opened, the force almost falling off the handles. “Breakfast - hey, what are you doing here, Kamala?” You heard the girl behind you groan. Sometime in the middle of the night, you gravitated towards each other. Her arm is secured around your waist. It wasn’t an uncomfortable position. You only allowed your parents and sometimes your brothers to cuddle you.

“Not sleeping,” she mumbled. Her breath caused goosebumps on your skin. That was uncomfortable. Your mind flashed back to every time someone held you down, breathing against your neck. You tensed up. “Hey, are you okay?” You shook your head.

“Mom!” Billy yelled. “Y/n has a friend over that she didn’t ask permission ,and she’s having a panic attack.”

“Billy,” you hissed, but your brother ran off. Kamala removed her arm and created some healthy distance between you and her. You needed some space, not your brother getting Natasha and announcing you were having a panic attack, which you weren’t. Now, the hurried footsteps were from the Black Widow.

“Is she going to kill me?” You heard Kamala whisper as Natasha slowed down. That was a great question you weren’t 100% sure about.

“Kamala, what the hell are you doing here?” She asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be in space?”

“Well, you see, Mrs. Romanoff,” Kamala said slowly. “I requested to leave my mission early because she seemed upset.” Your head whipped around to look at her.

“You told me your mission was almost over, and Carol didn’t need you anyone.” Her eyes widened, frantically looking between you and the Russian.

“I did say that, didn’t I? It was a white lie,” she said. “I knew if I told you the truth, you would make me go back, and you sounded so sad on the phone,” she held up her hands, almost to defend herself. “Carol knows the truth, and she approved it. I couldn’t lie to her,” she pointed to Natasha. “She scares me more than you,” she whispered. Her comment made you laugh, but you were still angry at her even though her heart was in the right place. Natasha scuffed.

“I scare you now. Is that so?” You looked at your mom. Her arms were crossed, and she was leaning against the doorway.

“No, ma’am, Mrs. Black Widow, sir.” You laughed so hard that you snorted, which sent Kamala into a fit of laughter. Natasha had a soft smile on her face.

“Breakfast is ready, girls. Come on,”

“Thanks, Mom,” the Black Widow nodded and walked back towards the direction of the kitchen, not bothering to close the door. Kamala let out a shaky breath and slumped back into the mattress. “I can’t believe you lied to me.” You pinched her side, and the girl yelped.

“It was for a good reason,” you rolled your eyes. “Are you telling me if I told you the truth, you’d let me stay?” There was no good reason you had. “Exactly,” she pinched your side back. “How did you sleep?” She sat up and stretched her arms above her head.

“Good, actually,” your mind was blank; no nightmare woke you up.

“Good,” she climbed out of the bed. “Come on. I’m hungry. Your superhero needs food,” she rubbed her stomach.

“My superhero?” She winked at you.

“I like the sound of that,” she teased and grabbed your hand. You were a little stunned, but you led her to the kitchen, where the rest of your family was. My superhero, you liked the sound of it, too.

*

“I’d like to call Y/n Romanoff-Maximoff as my first witness to the stand,” the prosecutor said your name, and your stomach still dropped. This moment was what you were preparing weeks for. All you had to do was take the stand, tell the truth, and be free. Easy minus facing Principal Cook and the side full of his supporters. But you weren’t alone either. Every Avenger that was not on a mission seemed to be there; even the Bartons made the trip to the city. Still, you felt frozen in your seat. Until you felt a hand on your shoulder squeeze it.

“We are right here, bug,” Natasha whispered. “Eyes on us the entire time.” You nodded and forced yourself to stand up. The prosecutor smiled at you as you passed her and headed for the witness stand. You tried to keep your eyes on your section. Even when the Bible was brought over to you so you could swear the truth and nothing but the truth. But you were curious, so your eyes flickered to his defense team. His lawyer was whispering to him, but Cook was watching you. The man smiled and gave you a little wave. You looked away immediately, eyes scanning your section until you found Kamala. She smiled, and the weight on your chest disappeared. You let out a shaky breath. You could do this. You could do this.

*

“I am so proud of you,” Wanda said for what felt like the 10th time once the trial ended. Her arms were wrapped tightly around you.

“Alright, darling,” Natasha smiled. “Don’t hog her. She’s got other people to thank for coming.” With a sigh, she let you go. You made your way around the large group right outside the courthouse. You thanked everyone for their support and tried to ignore the press taking your picture. Kamala was the last person you went up to. Immediately, you slumped into her arms.

“Hi,” she whispered. “Are you ready to go home?” You nodded against her. She took your hand and led you to your parent’s car. There was no need to say goodbye as everyone was invited to the house for a small party. It was your one request to do after the trial. You wanted everyone close by for a gentle reminder you weren’t alone.

Once again, you found yourself at the fire pit as you watched the party. Kamala sat down next to you and handed you a plate of food. “Are your parents enjoying themselves?” You saw them talking with Natasha and Wanda. They weren’t at the trail; they stayed at the house to set everything up.

“They are. I hope you are ready to hear many stories of when I was a baby,” you smiled and took a bite of your hamburger. “You know Yelena gave me the shovel talk,” your eyes widened. You knew when the Blonde found out you were dating Kamala; it was only a matter of time before the ‘talk’ happened. “It was nothing bad. She did not threaten bodily harm,” you laughed, a little surprised, and sipped your water. “She did make me promise something.”

“Are you going to tell me what that promise was?” Yelena was with the Bartons. Nate was handing on her back with his arms around her neck. She caught you staring and winked at you.

“She told me this has been the happiest she’s seen you,” you looked at the girl next to you. She was looking forward, but you saw her eyes flick to you. It wasn’t the first time you heard that statement. You look happier. Everyone said it in their way. “Is that true? Do you feel happier?” It was a complicated question because there were days you were on cloud nine. Others felt it impossible to move forward. But she made it better.

“Yeah, I am,” you admitted. “So, what promise did you make to her?” She took her free hand in yours.

“Just to keep you happy,” she kissed your cheek. “And you know how much I love making you smile.” You rolled your eyes and felt your body warm up.

“Hey, lovebirds,” you heard Kate yell. “I think you should cool off.” You gasped as the cool water drenched you and Kamala. You ignored Kamala’s laughter and looked at who was responsible: your brother, the Bartons, and Peter.

“Tommy, Billy, I’m going to kill you.”

“Awe, why?” Tommy whined. “It wasn’t just us.” That was true, but you had a free pass to bully them.

“Besides, it was mom’s idea,” your head snapped to look at the Black Widow, who was now with her sister and Laura. She was smirking at you. You narrowed your eyes at her.

“Give me your water gun,” you said to Billy. Your brother looked at you, then Natasha.

“I’ll speak kindly at your funeral, soldier,” he saluted you and handed you the water gun. You placed your now ruined food on Kamala’s plate.

“Khobsurat,” she stood up and grabbed your hand. “Are you sure about this? You have a lot of life to live.”

“Oh my god, guys,” you laughed. “I’ll be fine.” Well, you hopped anyway. Besides, you knew Wanda wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You were secretly her favorite. You pumped the water gun and looked at the Black Widow. She shook her head and mouthed ‘no.’ You winked at her and used your powers to turn invisible. Since the Avengers saved you from Dmitri, you rarely used your powers. Besides the occasional training session Natasha and Wanda put you through. You were grateful for that; what they taught you kept you alive. It felt good to use your powers for fun.

You watched the Black Widow walk over to Wanda and wrap her arms around her waist. She was talking with Maria and Sam. Clever or suicide to use the witch as a shield, but it would not stop you. Carefully, you walked closer to them. “What are you doing, sweetheart?” Wanda asked. Natasha placed her head on her shoulder.

“Can I not love on my beautiful wife?” The witch narrowed her eyes at her.

“Who did you piss off?” You slapped your hand over your mouth to stop the sound of your laughter. Wanda glanced around the yard. “Get off of me.” But Natasha held onto her tighter. “Natalia Alianovna Romanova, I will not be your shield because you messed with our enhanced daughter.” Sam laughed, throwing his head back.

“You got your full government name,” he teased. You are in the dog house.” The Black Widow pouted, but her arms remained locked around Wanda.

‘Don’t even think about it,’ Wanda’s voice echoed in your head. Usually, it would scare you. Now, it was a calming presence when you felt her magic enter your mind.

‘Sorry, mama,’ You appeared behind Natasha and unleashed your water onto her back. Natasha gasped and moved Wanda to take some of it. You stopped immediately but still got her wet. You cringed. “That was not my fault,” you said. The witch sighed.

“I know,” Red Magic took the water gun out of your hands. “Run Romanoff.” The Black Widow’s eyes were filled with fear, and you laughed as she took off towards Tommy, who threw his water gun at her. Yes, you were happier—all thanks to them.

[daistea]

I love ur mithrun stuff sm can I request him and his s/o celebrating their 100th anniversary 😭 (for some reason I really like that scenario with long living/immortal characters)

Ya!!

gn reader

words: 1,296

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876,581 hours, 16 minutes, 48 seconds. More or less.

“You don’t have to do the math,” Mithrun spoke into your hair. His voice wasn’t soft, it was rarely soft, but it was quiet enough to only reach your ears. His arms snaked around your waist and his fingers tangled together in front of you. Without a second thought of what others might think, you rested your hands on top of his.

You didn’t have to do the math, he was right. But you’d heard that number somewhere. Something about 100 years averaging around 800,000 plus hours. That was a lot of hours. A lot of minutes. So many seconds, countless.

And Mithrun had decided to spend them all with you. As comfortable as you were with each other, that fact still made your heart pleasantly clench.

“I know,” you murmured. He only pressed his nose deeper into your hair, acknowledging your response.

Nearby, your friends and family were getting loud. Their voices carried through the building and mingled with the crowd. Fleki was trying to convince Pattadol to smoke something with her. Pattadol was lecturing Fleki in return. New friends that you’d met through the years laughed and chatted, but you and Mithrun stayed in your corner. Odd, because it was your party.

“Let’s go,” he said under his breath. His arms tightened around you.

You couldn’t help but make a face, “We’ve only been here fifteen minutes. It’s our party, we can’t just leave.”

You felt Mithrun’s chest rise and fall against your back as he sighed. “I told Pattadol we didn’t want this. It’s really not our usual way of celebrating.”

True enough. Your anniversaries were usually laid-back affairs, but Pattadol’s excuse for throwing a party was that this year was specific. It was special. One hundred.

Mithrun rested his chin on your shoulder. You didn’t need to look at him to know what face he was making. Your husband wasn’t one for parties, and you both had attempted to plead your cases against the celebration. Yet, one hundred years of marriage proved that Pattadol was right. It was special.

But nearby, Otta was shamelessly flirting with a half-foot girl she’d brought as her plus one. Lycion and Fleki were telling bad jokes and laughing too loud. Cithis had made a tall-man get on his hands and knees and be her footstool. Pattadol was on the brink of a panic attack as she tried to contain the crowd and throw the perfect occasion.

“You’re right,” you said, “let’s get out of here.”

Mithrun dipped his head toward your neck and pressed his lips against your skin. Your breath caught in your throat and, without another thought, you tilted your head to give him better access. He always liked it when you offered yourself, bared it all to him like land for claiming.

“Get a room!” Flamela yelled from where she sat at a nearby table. (Why had she been invited anyway?)

“If you insist,” Mithrun responded loud enough for her to hear. His tone wasn’t particularly excited, but his lips betrayed him. He pressed his mouth to your neck one last time, a final act of defiance against Flamela’s disgust.

“Come on,” you huffed as you pulled yourself from his grip. His brow furrowed ever so slightly at the new distance between your bodies, but you remedied his displeasure by taking his hand and leading him toward the exit. A quick glance at Pattadol confirmed that she was far too busy trying to wrench whatever Fleki was smoking out of her hands to notice.

Sweet escape. The moment you and your husband stepped outside, the cool night air of Melini greeted you. Mithrun exhaled and closed his good eye as if reveling in the sudden quiet.

“Our spot?” You asked.

He nodded.

A hundred years of marriage meant many things. It meant comfort, a home in each other, a connection that couldn’t be severed. It also meant that you and Mithrun often nearly read each other’s minds. He noted the looks on your face and knew precisely what they meant. Words sometimes failed but actions succeeded.

With no further discussion upon the matter, you and Mithrun walked hand in hand to your spot.

It was a grassy hill that overlooked Melini, and it was a bit of a hike. Both of you were still relatively young for elves, but over time you’d noticed a lack of willingness in your knees and back. Trudging up the hill had become more of a pain, but the view and privacy was worth it.

As you started, Mithrun turned himself to face you. He wrapped an arm around your waist— two thoughts entered your mind: he was either going to kiss you, or teleport you.

The rush of magic in your veins told you that it was the latter. The experience of being teleported had gotten more bearable through the years, only lasting half a second and not giving you nausea anymore, but the principle of the matter remained.

Yet, the view of Melini distracted you. The prickle of magic dissipated, and Mithrun kept his arm around your waist. His other hand brushed through your hair, tucking the strands behind your ear. You scanned the growing blanket of the city beneath you. Melini was all golden lamp light and old fashioned architecture. Every time you saw it from that angle, you couldn’t help but think of your short-lived friends who’d created your home.

“Usually I would snap at you for doing that,” you began to say, but the moment you looked at Mithrun, you found his gaze already glued to you. He didn’t care about the Melini landscape. How could he look at anything but you?

“You would,” he agreed, “but you’re not.”

Your heart skipped. “I’m in a good mood.”

“Why is that?” Mithrun’s long, cold fingers gently pulled out of your hair and found their home on your jawline, tracing lines across your skin, to your chin, down the delicate bones of your neck. He looked at you with calm appreciation, like a jeweler would admire and inspect a diamond. He drank in the sight of your face as if he wouldn’t see it again.

Those subtle, lingering gazes always made your heart flip. Somehow, you’d gotten through a hundred years of them without going into cardiac arrest.

“I don’t know,” you answered lightly, “I guess I just like you.”

“I would hope so.”

“Do you like me?”

“I married you, didn’t I?” His lips flickered up into a barely-there smile. “Do you recall when we first got married, and you kept asking me ‘are you sure you love me?’ as if I hadn’t just made the decision to exponentially improve my life.”

You recalled. Half of the time, you were only joking, because Mithrun made it clear, often, that he’d never been more sure about anything.

“I’ve improved your life, huh?” You asked, “Like a nice kitchen utensil or a good broom?”

Mithrun lifted your chin, “Not just a good broom. The best broom known to man.”

“Despite your words, you still manage to charm me. I wonder why that is.”

His fingers were still under your chin, but he began to lean in. You met him halfway, and your lips pressed together. You and Mithrun had rough kisses, with tongue and teeth and grit. You had soft kisses. Lazy kisses. Casual kisses.

This particular kiss felt like it held more, like Mithrun was trying to tell you something. It was heavy with unspoken emotion. His other hand left your waist and went to your cheek, and he held your face, cradling you, as if you were the most important person in the world.

And to Mithrun, that was exactly who you were.

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[giamee]

CHAPTER XII! encore

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GOING SHOPPING WAS A VERY WELCOME DISTRACTION from everything. leaving the guys after getting breakfast together, taking a bus into the busier marketplace, and perusing all the different items that mondstadt had to offer, you and layla were feeling properly satisfied.

in particular, the clothing stores had caught you and layla's eyes. the fashion was so different to sumeru's and you couldn't help but want to find some dresses and other clothes similar to what you saw the inhabitants of mondstadt wearing as they went about daily life.

layla knew a few specific brands- heard from a friend of a friend- that she dragged you along to, and you walked down the aisles together, scanning the racks of clothing. layla pauses to inspect a dress, a pretty blue one that would really complement her hair, before she turned to you conspiratorily.

"so, i knew that i said that we should ignore last night, but you and cyno, huh?"

you got flustered, gaze averting to another dress, a thick material that you thought would melt off of you during a sumeru summer.

"oh it's... yaknow."

"it didn't look like a yakno. looked a lot friendlier than that."

"you know how it is, layla. i mean, we broke up."

"and exes can't hook up?"

you looked up at her, shocked. she's smirking to herself, glancing at the dress' pricetag before grimacing and releasing it from her grip.

"i mean, hot girl summer, right?"

"and where was this energy when you were telling me to be careful, hm?" the girl simply shrugged, grinning at you elfishly.

"eh, fuck it. besides, i see the way you two look at each other. it's obvious that you two aren't over it."

"we are." your voice is quieter now, a fact that doesn't go unmissed by your friend.

"then maybe that's a conversation to have between you and him, yeah?" as if waiting for a cue, you and layla's phones both chimed, and you saw messages from the trip groupchat, as well as some unread ones from your inazuma friends. you'd fill them in later.

the place in question was a restaurant called the good hunter, one that albedo insisted was extremely popular with the locals. his recommendation proved to be right, too, judging by how busy it was around lunchtime. it was absolutely packed, the aroma of food making your mouth water as soon as you stepped in. you hadn't even realised just how hungry you were, but this was much appreciated.

albedo himself was nice enough, but there was something about him that reminded you a little too much of alhaitham for you liking. as for the man himself, he had arrived late, ending up wedged in one of the only seats left- right next to you.

the sheer volume of people talking in such a small place made this bustling restaurant... surprisingly private. albedo was seated at the other end of the table, telling your friends some story along with the help of kaveh's dramatic reenactment, and you could barely hear what the pair of them were saying.

and with everyone else's attention elsewhere, it was easy for alhaitham to scoot closer to you, leaning down so that his face is level with yours.

you don't pull away, but you eye the man warily. you never really knew what to expect with him, after all. his words and his actions told two different stories.

"so, you're getting back with cyno?"

you're glad that you weren't eating, otherwise you would have coughed everything out upon hearing that. you choke on your water, though, and you hate that alhaitham instinctively pats your back as you recover. his palms are warm against your bare skin, and you wish that you hadn't worn something that left you so exposed. you hated the fact that you found his touch soothing even more.

"who told you that?" you rasp out after finally catching your breath. his fingers linger against you a touch too long, and there's a flash of something akin to... remorse? in his eyes as he peels his hand away from your back. it feels cold without his touch.

"were you not... never mind then." you look at him, confused now. all of the mixed messages that he was throwing you in the past couple days was making your head spin.

"why the sudden interest? i thought you didn't like me." he looks confused now, more than anything, and in any other circumstance you would laugh at the way he gaped at you. it's a long few seconds before his head falls forward, his arms uncrossing to let his fingers pinch at the bridge of his nose oh-so delicately.

"i said to move on because i didn't want you or cyno to get hurt again."

"...oh."

"yes, oh."

"and not because you didn't like me?"

"...quite the opposite." alhaitham peeks up at you now, his expression uncertain, and you feel like you can finally read him. he sounded a lot softer now, the drone of everyone else in this restaurant fading away, and it felt like just the two of you again.

"then... why did you act like that yesterday?" his face scrunched up, a frown forming at your question.

"i don't know." disbelief was an emotion that you were beginning to strongly associate with alhaitham. "i thought that it wouldn't be right to tell you."

"but that didn't stop you from kissing me." he paused, looking away bashfully, before he meets your eyes again.

"that was an oversight on my part. it shouldn't have happened." the urge to rip your hair out was beginning to grow. instead, you laughed lowly, focusing your attention to the food on your plate. you really weren't hungry, but anything was better than looking at him right now.

"i'm sorry, y/n." you pick at the food on your plate with your fork, watching as it drops back down with a plop. "this won't end well, you'll both get your hearts broken again." you couldn't help but laugh at the stupidity of this entire situation.

"and what about yours, alhaitham? don't act like you're doing me such a favour by being a pussy." you spit out that last word with more venom than was probably necessary, if the way that alhaitham flinched away was any indicator. his mouth opened, and you watched him flounder for a little, but it was cut short by nilou calling your name from across the table.

you plaster what you hope is a convincing smile on your face, idly responding and ignoring the rising tide of emotions within you in favour of tuning in to the recollection of akademiya stories that your friends were relaying.

the rest of your time in the restaurant, greeting and saying goodbye to albedo, walking back to the hostel with your friends, felt like you were in some third person mode, the overbearing weight of alhaitham's inadverted confession leaving you well and truly stunned.

what now? he likes you but he's made it more than clear that he won't do anything about it. you're stuck between a rock and a hard place.

you find yourself staring down your reflection in the bathroom, once again having your inner thoughts consumed by the infuriating gray-haired man.

and like a severe case of deja vu, cyno slips into the bathroom the same time as you, his hip bumping against yours as he sidles up next to you.

"hey."

"hi." your voices sounds flat even to your ears, but cyno merely smiles at your greeting. he takes his precious moments to get his toothbrush, squeeze out some toothpaste onto it, before he turns to you- ever so casual, deliberately light tone.

"i don't have a movie to watch, but... would you want to sleep in my bed tonight?" you lock eyes with him through the mirror, those amber eyes boring into you, imploring you for an answer. cyno had always been good at that- wrangling some answer out of you that you didn't even know was there.

it's quiet, save for the water running from the tap as he wers his brush. it gives you time to think. temptation was not an ugly man- he had a sweet smile and a promise of familiarity, and you decided that that's what you needed right now.

"yeah, i'll get in after you." cyno beams, eyes crinkling with the intensity, and that's all that needs to be said for the rest of your time shared in the bathroom.

and then he's gone again, so quick that you have to reassure yourself that he was ever there at all, and you repeat the steps that he went through, washing your face, before turning to the door leading to all of the beds.

you really needed to update your friends about this. but it could wait.

✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ trivia :: despite majoring in chemistry and not architecture, albedo was able to increase kaveh's grades to solid a's while tutoring him

✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ gia's notes :: uhm. i don't have anything to yap about for once lol. my stomach hurts. ooh i know what to say cyno fuckers lovers yall are in for a TREAT next chapter 🙈 now give me one billion gajillion notes or i wont post it 🔫 also the haitham drama is over (?) now yay!!! he's emotionally constipated and rationalises his feelings away ok guys everybody makes mistakes 😞

✦ ⠂⠂୨୧ taglist :: @makimakimi @aeongiies @sukunasrealgf @ssoliva @sakiimeo @eggn0gcookie @yxcade @fiona782 @heartswonder @eunchaeluvr @clumsyphuq @pinksodacan @aelxr @themusingsofmany @obervation-subject-753 @kittycasie @aimno256 @maxineshearts @mafuyuslover @meigalaxy @mintydump @v4lerixxq @artwitchh @geo-hew-hew @imkaaayy @c4tsfr0mh3ll @kokoscutie @erzarq @eu-la @ddiluc @ichikaisflowers @rahhhmen @esmetrees @rain-and-a-nice-nap @g8mmaaa @wuthering-seas

[elliotsblunt]

Black Swan 2 | Colin Bridgerton

pairings - colin bridgerton/reader | brigderton au!

“_ _ “ = Y/N

masterlist | last part

sypnosis — you decide to push away colin, perhaps against your own will.

warnings —angst

word count — 3.3k

© elliotsblunt 2024. do not repost, modify, or translate.

Your feet couldn’t carry yourself fast enough. Heels clicked against the pavement as the summer air breeze blew against your cheeks. With squinted eyes, you called out her name again. But you watched as her carriage vanished into the night, leaving you alone with dust vanishing within the air from her departure.

It couldn’t have been possible. Colin was her Colin. The Viscount’s younger brother.

Penelope had dreamt about marrying him ever since your mother and her daughters moved across from them, pretty much at the same time you were shipped off to Spain. Your mother didn’t want to deal with taking care of you, and so she made a deal with one of the emperors in Spain—and arranged for you to live within the walls of the Royal Castle.

You never got the chance to get to know anyone here. Perhaps that’s why you received such peculiar stares.

“_ _. I’ve been looking for you. Welcome home.”

You clenched your teeth. Inhaling deeply, you reluctantly spun around, revealing your mother and two half sisters. Almost stumbling back from their bright fashion choice—all matching in blinding orange dresses—you heard your older sister, Prudence, roll her eyes.

You sent her a tight smile. “Hello, Prudence.” You nodded at Philipa, who only rose her brow at you.

“Philipa.”

“It seems Spain caused you to lose your senses,” your mother scrutinized you with bitter eyes. The tip of her nose scrunched. “You didn’t even announce yourself to your sisters nor I.“

Philipa snorted, twirling her orange curl. “Yeah. At least try to hide the fact you only came for Penelope.”

Your mother chuckled, tilting her head at you with faux confusion. “Speaking of which—where is that girl? We wouldn’t want you to get the impression she’s already grown weary of your presence,” she added in, fanning herself with her veiny hand coated with perfectly painted with her signature color. Yellow.

Your half-sisters laughed and snickered at her words, causing you to think your eyes into daggers at the trio. “It seems other people enjoy and require her company, unlike some I know.”

Their laughing grew to a halt, earning death glares as you threw your hand in the air to call your carriage. Turning your back towards them, you lifted the end of your dress to ensure you didn’t slip on the hem once again.

“Have a goodnight ladies. I’m retiring home early.”

As soon as you heard a gentleman whistle to escort you towards the ready carriage, you walked down the cobblestones pathway of the Queen’s Castle—quickly fleeing from the scene.

“Thank you, Ms. Varley,” you smiled at the older woman as she latched the necklace onto your flesh. A boy who eyed you for some time back in Spain gifted you this, following his confession. In simple words,

You accepted the gift but not the proposal.

Getting married wasn’t really on your agenda. You always assumed love would happen organically. There wasn’t a need to force anything, nor a rush. And when it came to him, there was no spark. Your tummy didn’t do flips whenever his eyes dug into yours. When his fingertips grazed your knuckles, it didn’t burn your heat with desire.

Your fingertips touched the shimmering diamonds—mind racing back to the night before. Colin couldn’t keep his eyes off your collarbone. As if he was fighting the urge to lay his sights on what was beneath it. The thought of his stormy eyes burning into your figure, made you inhale sharply.

Although you sworn to never speak to him again, Penelope didn’t have to know your thoughts. And besides, he consumed them. His touch on the small of your back, in the dark, his lips almost pressing against yours. It drove you crazy, how large his palms were compared to yours. How dominant he was—how he controlled the conversation the entire course of time the two of you spent together.

“It’s truly lovely to meet you, Miss Rockwell. I’ll be in the washing room cleaning.”

You hummed as you both exchanged smiles before she exited your chamber. And as if on cue, Penelope stormed in. You straightened out right away, turning away from the mirror to face her. “Penelope. I was about to come—“

“I’m sorry I assumed things between the two of you. Colin spoke to me and explained everything.” She apologized, offering a gentle smile. Her face looked as if it was glowing with guilt. But it made your chest do a flip at the sound of his name. “He said you both literally ran into each other during the blackout—and he danced with you so you wouldn’t leave.”

“Exactly,” you laughed nervously, happy he didn’t mention the dirty thing he said before you left. “There’s nothing going on between us. I would never do that to you, Pen Pen.”

The two of you hugged, giggling as you took in her scent of jasmine. It was absolutely lovely. “I feel like you’re the only person I truly have.”

“I’ll always be here for you.” Pen guarantees as you both pull away. You pinch her cheeks as she giggles, swatting your hand away. “Now tell me! What did you two talk about?”

You gulped, but played it cool. “You mean did he mention you?”

She blushed, turning as red as her night gown. She hadn’t changed clothes yet. This really must’ve been weighing in on her mind all night.

Guilt began to hit you.

“He did,” you notice her eyes perk up. You spat out lies. “He said there’s a girl he finds gorgeous that he’s close with.”

“I—-What? Really?”

Oh god.

“The Bridgertons are hosting a garden party today. Eloise’s sister Francesa has turned of age—I shall speak to him there.”

Shit.

Your mind went blank, biting on your finger as Penelope loses herself in her desires. “I have to decide what to wear. This could be it, _ _.” She clapped her hands, looking at you with excited eyes and a beaming smile.

“I’m going to tell him how I feel today.”

You made a nervous laugh as she skipped out your chambers, knowing you were now royally fucked.

He plagues your mind. But there wasn’t a damn thing you could do about it. Now, you had to try to get your sister to marry Colin Bridgerton.

You absolutely adored this green dress from Spain. It had golden trimming sewn at the top, and the sleeves were two puffed out rings. It was off the shoulder, showering off your collarbones, attracting stares from many gentleman.

Here in London, woman tend to show cleavage like there’s no tomorrow. Especially the mamas, it was quite gruesome how shameless they were. But in Spain, Spanish women like to let the men imagine a bit more. Fantasize you can say. And collarbones are sexy, revealing just enough to make you think. Perhaps that’s why Colin eyes showered you with glances directed at your neckline.

Golden necklaces adorned your neckline. “It’s absolutely beautiful,” you whispered in awe to Penelope, the two of you following behind your mother and her two gremlins. The Bridgerton’s garden was located behind their home, where paths filled with light pink flowers guided guests how to enter.

A fountain filled with lily pads poured crystal-like water into its stone basin at the bottom. Birds chirped whilst resting at the top. Butterflies of every color imaginable flapped their patterned wings into the clear skies of summer. Violin’s qued as rows of food appeared. Sandwiches, scones, cookies, tea cakes, bread. Blackened chicken, an entire hog, and salmon in another. And drinks such bourbon, whiskey, vodka.

Penelope began to make herself a plate and offered to make you one as well. You agreed and thanked her before going to get yourself a drink. Pen didn’t like to drink, so you decided against offering her one.

The sound of hard cider caused your mouth to water. Back in Spain, you drank that every week. The spice of the cinnamon lightly burning the back of your throat stung you deliciously. Helping yourself to the dispenser that says Hard Cider, you filled the glass halfway before taking a sip.

You were surprised they had it here.

“Here,” Pen hands you a massive plate. You nearly tip over from the weight. Forcing the liquid down your throat, it made you slightly cough out.

“Jesus, Pen. Did you get one of everything or something?” You cleared your throat afterwards, causing her to giggle.

“I didn’t know what you liked! So I got you everything…”

That made you laugh, shaking your head as you took another sip of your drink. Okay _ _. Keep track of your sips. This is your second. Don’t get wasted at Colin Bridgerton’s home. But then you realized, no one even knew you. It was okay to ease up a little, and relax. This is a vacation after all.

“Where’s your little Bridgerton friend?” You ask Pen, catching her taking a bite out of a cookie. She shrugged her shoulders as she wiped powdered sugar off the corners of her mouth.

“Are you two not speaking?”

“Of course we are. She’s just been a little busy with other things I suppose.” She clearly lied to you, eyes dodging to meet yours. You hummed with a knowing look, but decided to not say anything.

“Ladies.”

An unfamiliar male voice steps in, rich and charming almost. A boy with dark eyes and a handsome smile approaches you two, but to your luck, his sights seemed to be in Penelope. “I love that color, Miss Featherington. It looks absolutely ravishing on you.”

Pen freezes on the spot, no longer taking bites of her food. Her cheeks turned a deep pink.

“Urm, Thank you Mr. Dukeson.”

“Would you like to dance?” He offers, holding out his hand. Pen glanced at you, and when you deliver her a stern nod, she bites back a small smile before accepting his proposition to waltz. She hands you her plate, causing you to giggle, before he escorts her to the floor.

Oh—how beautiful she looked.

“Who is that?”

You nearly jumped at the husky voice behind you. It was him.

Not understanding why he wanted to know, your eyes found his. But they weren’t looking at you. No…they were focused on the pair before you two.

On Pen.

With a look of anguish and dominance.

It made sparks of lingering jealousy ignite within your chest.

He…had feelings for her.

Colin Bridgerton liked her back. It was hard to swallow, but at least you didn’t have to help them get together anymore. It was over. All you had to do was tell Pen to keep making him jealous, and eventually he’ll crumble for her. And it shouldn’t have torn you apart inside, or made your heart swell with an aching emptiness.

“You have feelings for her,” you spoke aloud, causing his eyes to snap to yours. He visibly swallowed.

“I…don’t know…”

“Come on, Bridgerton. Man up. Tell her how you feel, won’t you?”

Your words caused him to raise his brows at you, blinking quickly. Tilting your head back, you took a large swig from your drink, causing him to laugh. “By the way, gorgeous home. Or castle I should say. I mean come on, it would take me thirty minutes to find the bathroom.”

“Thanks. We could trade places, if you’d like.”

“You don’t look flexible enough to dance for the Spanish Queen, Bridgerton.”

You snort, each drink making you feel more and more relaxed. Suddenly—Colin not returning your feelings didn’t bother you. Your sister always came first, no matter what. But you couldn’t help but stare at him, noticing those supple lips of his getting trapped between those pearly white teeth of his.

You thought about sucking on it. Using his mouth for dirty dirty things. You were shameful.

Your thighs pressed together; not noticing Colin’s hungry eyes suddenly trained on you. He noticed the sweat dripping down your forehead, eyes avoiding to meet his. “Miss Rockwell. Are you fee—“

“You should tell Pen how you feel. Excuse me,” you mutter out before pushing past him, going inside the maze. Walls made of large shrubs and bushes, flowers littering the green, and yet you still felt light headed and stressed. The liquor began to make your heart race and tummy twirl with yearning.

Your hand found your waist, letting out laughs. It was unbelievable how much you yearned for his touch on yours. To feel his body against yours. What was wrong with you?

“_ _ ? Are you okay?”

It was the Bridgerton girl. Emily? Eloise. Quickly spinning around, you spotted her pretty blue eyes filled wirh wordy sweeping over your features. “Why are you here? I mean—I get it. I get it. I hate parties as well. Mama makes me attend them.”

She rolls her eyes, and since you weren’t in full control of your senses, you tried your best to be sober. “Are you drunk?”

“Drunk wouldn’t begin to cover it, sister.” Colin steps in beside her, looking as dashing as ever. His black strands fell over his eyes, a black vest matching his black coat. His greyish eyes contracted against his recently tanned skin.

“I am not drunk right now, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“You’re swaying.”

“It’s windy.”

“It’s summer.”

“Same difference.”

“Hey guys,” Pen says softly, announcing herself to the conversation. You smile widely at her.

“Pen, who’s that guy you were dancing with?” Eloise asks, looking genuinely concerned and in-excited. Pen blushes as Colin pitches in as well.

“Did he ask to court you?”

You send a glance to Colin, feeling your chest burn with a mysterious anger. Alcohol flowed in your blood stream. “Pen, do you fancy him?”

She swallowed thickly, shaking her head and shrugging. “I uh, I don’t know.”

She couldn’t meet his gaze. Setting your drink on the grass, you first took one last swig and finished your cup. “I’m going to find some more liquor.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea—“

“Actually, I’d like to dance.”

“Lovely, me too. Shall we?” Colin offered his hand, a smirk trailing onto those lips of his. You bit your lip, but saw the look on Pen’s face—and fought against the urge to accept.

“Sorry. I mean with girls.”

You grabbed Eloise and Pen by their wrists before dragging them to the center of the dance floor.

You didn’t notice his eyes on you once again, watching the three of you hold hands and jump around. You grabbed Pen by her hand and spun her and Eloise around with your other at the same time. The following the tempo of the piano, Eloise suddenly twirled you before the three of you girls continued to dance.

And at the same time, you didn’t notice Colin wasn’t the only one burning his gaze onto you. The Queen had also taken an interest, asking her right hand man about your family and background. In her eyes, you were the perfect diamond of the season. She still hadn’t announced one yet, but that was soon going to change.

Flowers began to pour down from the sky somehow, colorful petals getting caught in your black strands. You fluttered your eyes shut, jumping up and down whilst swaying your body to match the music.

Giggling and smiling with the girls, when your eyes reopened—a pair of fiery dark ones were piercing at you. Colin stood on the sidelines, hands in his pockets, two girls speaking to get his attention that was on you. Petals falling over him in the background made it seem like you were dreaming. Something blossomed in your chest. As soon as your eyes met, his pink lips curved into a slight smirk.

You were doomed.

After the song finished, Colin approached you once again. Pen and Eloise were talking to one another, yet mindful of your guys’ conversation. You breathed deeply as Colin looked at you with an intense gaze. Penelope clears her throat, but Colin didn’t notice.

“Miss Rockwell. May I speak to you for a moment?”

Your eyes flew over to Pen, who laughed brokenheartedly and excused herself. “I’ll just go find Eloise then…”

After your younger sister had walked off, you sent Colin a fierce look. “Miss Rockwell—“

He took a step forward, causing you to knit your brows in confusion. His eyes were trained on the ground.

“I would like—to get to know you better.” His words were suggestive. It made chills run down your spine, and if it were under different circumstances, perhaps you would have accepted. But this wasn’t just any suitor. This was Colin…the man Pen has been yearning for for years now. The way she described him in those letters. How dashing he looked in that coat of his, how his defined jaw clenched as he awaited for your answer.

His eyes trailed up to meet yours. “Miss Rockwell…please say yes.”

And you want to did. It was on the tip of your tongue—But it was impossible. He wasn’t meant for you to marry. You always knew that.

“W—We can’t…”

His face fell, but hope lingered in his eyes. He knew you were about to break. Did he see right through right you? Colin tilted his head, grasping your fingertips. The skin on your hand felt like it was on fire as he traced it gently. “Colin..”

“Why not?” His voice dropped an octave, turning into a harsh whisper. His patience was running thin, dropping his formal tone and replacing it with a more…desperate one. You gulped, staying silent, becoming speechless as his features pulled into a frown. “Be honest with yourself, Miss Rockwell. Don’t be a fool.”

You were angry at this whole situation. Rejecting an offer from a man you find absolutely gorgeous and intriguing. He looked timeless, raising his brows and sending you those puppy dog eyes that made your knees weak. You wanted to reach out and comfort him, rubbing his check. The stubble on his angular jaw would scratch through the fabric of your glove.

And then Penelope popped into your head. That beautiful smile that adorned her perfect little face. You never wanted to be the reason it disappeared.

“I’m only a fool if I were to court you,” the words tasted bitter in your mouth. You refused to look at the broken look on his face. In all honestly, the harshness of your words were fueled by the anger of wanting to kiss those lips of his at this very moment. But you’d never be able to.

Looking away, you released a deep sigh. “I feel nothing for you, Colin Bridgerton. My sister, however, shares a great deal of feelings for you.”

Colin’s voice wavered behind you, “Miss Rockwell—“

“How desperate are you for someone to love you, dammit!” You raised your voice, letting out a mocking laugh afterwards. You felt like throwing up. If he couldn’t let you go simply, he’d have to hate you instead.

When you spun around,

Colin took a step back.

His face had completely went blank.

Your jaw shook, looking him in the eyes. The fire inside them had vanished, now only dimly lit. Your fingernails dug into the palms of your hands. “Marry my sister. Hell, marry anybody as long as you leave me the bloody hell alone. Every time you speak to me—it kills her.” Your teeth clenched, “So please…let this be the last time we speak.”

It looked as if he had swallowed bile. “Understood.”

And with that, he turned around and exited his own garden. As you watched him leave, you realized everyone had you—eyes trained on yourself and the man fleeing from the scene. Warm liquid coated your hands, as you dug your nails into the flesh on your palm.

You grabbed a drink off the table before heading for the carriages.

[specialinterestshows]

Join your girlfriend’s found family as they prepare Dom for his title match in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic, Absolute Smokeshow.

Warnings for this section: Social/crowd anxiety, stalking mention, jealousy, PDA, parasocial behavior

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 73 of ?): From One Show To The NXT

Rhea kept a comforting hand on you the entire ride over to the next show while you did your best to stay calm. Dominik was in the back with the both of you and Damian drove, his hand moving over to rest on Finn’s thigh whenever the cruise control was on. Your head was swimming with anxiety, but the warm, loving atmosphere in the car kept it from getting to be too much. Every time you tried to focus on the present, concerns for the future seeped in.

“Thanks again for letting me tag along,” it must have been the third time you’d said it.

Need to remember to call in sick for work tomorrow, but I’m not sure how many sick days I have left.

“Take it easy, chica,” Damian chuckled, eyes fixed on the road, looking like there was nowhere he would rather be.

I’m technically not insured to have someone who isn’t me driving my car, no matter how good Damian is at it.

“Yeah, you’re Rhea’s girl, so you’re pretty much part of the family,” Finn chimed in, smile evident in his voice despite the headrest blocking your view of his face, “Family takes care of family, no hesitation.”

I need to stop looking back, but what if someone’s following us again?

“We should make her an “honorary member of The Judgment Day” shirt,” Dom suggested.

I bet my apartment complex is going to be crawling with creeps when I get back. If it isn’t already.

“I’ll style it for her - I know exactly where to make the first cut,” Rhea insisted, eyes admiring your chest.

How many more panic attacks until they all decide I’m not worth helping?

“Don’t worry, love,” Rhea quietly reassured you, clearly sensing your anxiety, “This next show has a much smaller audience, and JD is getting there ahead of us to make sure we have a path inside that isn’t crowded by fans. We’re all going to do our part to keep people from getting too close to you.”

“Thanks, Rhe. Thanks everyone-“ you said again, before being cut off.

“Fuck’s sake, lass,” Finn’s sigh turned into an amused chuckle as he explained his interruption, “You’ve helped me and Damian get together and you’ve been nothing but good to Rhea - not to mention what the three of you did last night, because I know our man here had the time of his life” - he gestured to a blushing Dominik with a jab of his thumb - “So quit acting like you’re a burden and face it: you’re worth more than you realize.”

This coming from the man whose first words to me were about some money I allegedly owed him? The fact that Finn’s position on you seemed to have completely changed made it difficult to deny the sincerity of his words, leaving you in a stunned silence.

“Good one, babe,” you just barely heard Damian whisper to Finn.

Just as Rhea had promised, JD McDonagh was waiting for the three of you when you pulled into the parking lot, giving the group directions before taking the keys to park the car. JD seemed determined to help and Finn was happy to see him - but Damian definitely wasn’t.

“Cuidado, mi amor,” he muttered, a protective arm around Finn as he watched JD slide into the driver’s seat, “He’s still looking at you a little too long for my taste.”

“You know I only have eyes for you,” Finn reassured Damian, sticking his hand in his boyfriend’s back pocket.

“Yeah, but does he know-“ Damian jumped a bit, presumably in response to the squeeze Finn had given his ass.

Rhea quickly brought up the hand that wasn’t holding yours to stifle her laughter, muffling it just enough for you to catch Damian whispering “brat” to Finn under his breath.

The topic of conversation soon turned to Dom’s match to win back the NXT North American Championship, and before you knew it, you were backstage.

Rhea held your hand tightly as you all walked to the locker rooms. “That’s her” and “belt bunny” were whispered more than once as you walked through the groups of wrestlers, managers, and technical staff. Suddenly, you were self-conscious, trying to fold in on yourself away from all the curious eyes.

Someone whistled suggestively and the entire Judgment Day stopped to look for the source - to no avail. Rhea let go of your hand in favor of putting a protective arm around your shoulders. You held her tight until you were in a less crowded area. Rhea gave you a loving squeeze before following the rest of the group into the locker room to help Dom get ready for his match.

You were about to follow them, until an arm in a dark jacket blocked the closing door.

“Hey, you’re Rhea’s girlfriend, right?”

The question came from a woman dressed in black and silver ring gear. She somehow looked simultaneously bored and threatening, flipping her long, two-toned hair out of her face as she stared you down.

“… Yeah,” you answered reluctantly, “Why?”

“But you’re not a wrestler, are you.”

It was more of a statement, but you confirmed anyway.

“I’m not, no.”

The anxiety was obvious in your voice; maybe that’s what made the woman smirk and lean in before asking:

“So is it true what they say about Rhea?”

“What do they say?” you couldn’t help but ask.

“Jacy! We still need to get ready for the match,” an excitable blonde in matching ring gear ran up and addressed the woman before she could answer you, “Come on!”

Jacy sighed, looking you over before letting out a short laugh and following behind her tag partner.

What do they say about Rhea?

“Babe?” your girlfriend opened the door in front of you, looking confused, “Come join us; we need to know where you are if we’re going to keep you safe.”

You walked in and sat in the corner of the locker room as the others talked strategy - the last thing you wanted was to make the wrong move when Rhea was getting ready for a match.

A buzz made you pull out your phone.

It was Marisol:

“Is this you? Or do you have a twin?”

The message had a photo attached of the same tabloid cover you saw at the hotel that morning, but this one seemed to be sitting at a checkout counter.

You sighed, tapping away at your phone’s keyboard.

“That’s me: Rhea Ripley’s girlfriend.”

Looking over your response as you hit “send,” it dawned on you that another part of this mess was weighing on you in a way you couldn’t have expected: Rhea had become a celebrity because of her own talent, but you were only interesting to the world at large because you were dating her.

Your phone vibrated in your hands: a reply from Mari.

“I actually had to look up who she was - not really into wrestling. Hope you won’t hold it against me.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and smiled as her follow-up text reached you:

“How are you doing, belleza?”

“Overwhelmed” you typed.

Then deleted.

“Stressed” you typed instead.

Then deleted that too.

“Wish I could just go home. But it doesn’t feel safe.”

You typed and hit send.

Marisol responded quickly:

“Let me know if you need to crash at mine, hermosa.”

You were thrown - she barely knew you.

“U-Hauling already?” you reply, avoiding giving an actual response to the offer.

“No need for a U-Haul when you have a truck” was her reply, a winking face ending the message.

By the time your eyes had read down to the emoji, another message from popped up from Mari:

“Kidding. But if you do move someplace, you can use my truck if you smoke me out after.”

“Did you hear me, love?” Rhea’s voice made you look up from your phone.

Not only did you miss what your girlfriend had said, you hadn’t noticed JD was now in the locker room as well.

“I didn’t, sorry,” you admitted, gauging her reaction.

“I said all of us are going to be out there,” Rhea said, unfazed, “So you might be on your own for a little while, but I’ll have JD run back to you after he’s done his part. Sound good?”

You nodded and she smiled before turning to Finn and Damian. Looking over at a slightly fidgety Dominik, you tune out Rhea’s lecture about postposing the eye-fucking until after the title had been won.

“Nervous?” you asked your metamour.

“A little,” he said, moving to sit next to you on the bench, “Everyone is counting on me.”

“Anything I can do to help you with your match?” you asked, knowing it was unlikely but still wanting to offer.

He looked away for a moment, a blush blooming on his face.

“A kiss for good luck?” Dom asked finally.

“…Don’t get used to it,” you replied, holding his chin gently as you leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“So they get to be distracted and we don’t?” Finn asked, making Damian laugh.

“That kiss was more chaste than any single time the two of you have looked at each other since you met,” Rhea insisted, “Now let’s get back to business.”

[end part seventy-three of ?]

-

Tag list (thank you!)

@littlemiss-fanficlover , @babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @domripley , @wiccanpriestess , @falloutboy-lover , @aut0luminescence , @riverina69 , @itsrheasgirl , @1-800-sinister

[thetopichot]

•° The Middle Ground °•

☆ Chapter II ☆

Ya'll we are soooo back

Word Count: 1.3k

As the sun rose to let the people know that it was a new day, so did Auron. However it did take quite some time to open his eyes but he eventually did as one has to for another day at work. Auron sat up in his bed as he stared blankly at the fancy door frame across from his bed blankly, without a thought in mind besides just being exhausted from yesterday. 

The afternoon before was long but the night before was even longer. Secret Shipments & just having those annoying, diplomatic discussions with other allies that helped make his secret underground running. However throughout that night, a little voice rang through his head. 'Be confident in what you do'. 

He said that to Finn after the whole outburst  from both him & that.. brat. He took a moment to think about that statement. It felt so.. hypocritical & felt so shallow. As much as Auron holds onto this facade of being a leader, there are a few times where he himself questioned his confidence. 

However without that same confidence, he wouldn't be the same man he was today. Yet, he wished he wasn't. Bygones are bygones so there isn't much he could do to change the past. Time moves on & if people cannot move along with him then, they were never truly worthy of his time.

However, he couldn't help but to be overcome with worry whenever he thought of Finn. He never truly knew why he took such an interest in this florist & came around his shop somewhat often. Could it be the down to earth vibes that the shops bring that's quite similar to his stories or could there be more to it? 

He brushed this thought away for he thought it was useless to think about it & then, he began his routine.

Auron came to his job as usual with a bit of tiredness but luckily enough, today was the last day for now & the weekend was approaching. Despite it being closer to the weekend, the day felt so sluggish & repetitive.

Of course, the repetitiveness was a sign that things were under control & he had faith in his workers. Although, he did wish that something was different. Something that catches his eye & just took him away from the thought of work in general. He doesn't want to bury himself in his own work for the sake of his own entertainment. 

He wanted more than that. Then the thought of Finn reaches his thoughts once more.

Whenever he went to that shop, Finn would always greet him with a smile. It didn't really impress him at first because that's what a person within the service industry always does including him as well. However, Finn was quite different. He would always talk to him about his floral facts all of the time.

He wasn't doing it to sell him something.

"So it's not a sales pitch?" Auron inquired Finn & he softly chuckled in response as he snipped the roses.

"Why would it be a sales pitch?"

"To make it more appealing?"

"Oh, I never really thought about it like that." Auron quirked an eyebrow. "I mean, I've been quite nervous to tell my facts. People often find it bothering them. They just want the flowers & do what they need to do. Speaking of which, why are you interested in my facts?"

Auron thought about that question. "Maybe I just want something different. Something that breaks the cycle of repetitiveness occasionally. I just want to hear something different than something I've already heard thousands of times."

"Jeez, you sound so dramatic-" Finn caught himself. "Oh, crap! I'm so sorry that it sounded so rude! Um I-" Auron laughed. Finn paused as Auron genuinely laughed. His smile was so bright & Finn was attracted to it like a moth.

"I suppose you're right," Auron smiled, "I can sound quite dramatic."

"But that was no excuse to say that to you!" Finn said.

"Finn." Auron said. "You shouldn't have to apologize. It's better to say what's on your mind rather than just to fake it. I hate when people play suck up to me." Finn becomes nervous.

"I'm assuming I have this whole time?" Finn nervously asks & Auron nods in response.

"You have to be less insecure & I don't converse with people who aren't confident in themselves. You have to believe that you can do it or else, people will walk all over you." Finn looks away from Auron with a soft frown. His eyes averted him as he felt guilt in himself.

He was right, ya know. A Lot of people have taken advantage of Finn because of how easy & lenient he was. He gladly drop anything if it meant for them to stay but they didn't stay. 

& now, he's alone with someone who he barely even knew in his own shop lecturing him about how to be less like a doormat that you walk on & cover in someone's own filth. That's all he was to most people. A doormat.

Auron sighs as he resumes his speech. "I don't want that for you. I don't know why I care so much. Maybe it's because I just feel pity for you or maybe I drank too much the night before but, I don't want that for you."

"But why are you telling me all this, Auron? Why do you care so much?"

Auron didn't answer that question at the time but as the memory lingered, he reached his answer. As he spoke aloud in his office without knowing, he answered the memory.

"Because deep down in the bitterness of my heart, I adore you."

He was soon interrupted by the sound of the intercom on his desk. He pressed the button.

"Talk." He said neutrally as he snapped back into reality.

"Hello to you too, sir." Trish's voice came from the intercom.

"Oh good morning, Trish. Finally got to work?" Auron said all snarky but in a playful, harmless manner.

"Haha, really funny. However, that's not why I called you." Trish went from sarcastic into a serious tone. Auron noticed the change & straightened his back & cleared his throat.

"Then, what is it?"

"Finn, the florist from Talk Floral, requested a meeting from you at a tea shop named, Hattie's."

"He wants to what?" Auron curled an eyebrow as he leaned over his desk staring at his intercom in confusion.

"Finn has requested you for an outing."

"Yes, I know that, Trish. I heard you for the first time." He rubbed his eyebrows together, "I'm asking you why."

"I'm not too sure. I don't think he ever talked about the reason why plus I also don't think I get paid enough to be nosey. Either way I wouldn't have much of an answer for you, kiddo." Auron audibly sighs. "Come on, don't pout. I think it would be nice for you to get out of the office & actually enjoy yourself for once. You always brood in your office alone."

"I don't brood, Trish. I do perfectly fine just being by myself. I don't need anyone to accompany me."

"More like you're accompanying Finn but, Finn is such a sweet boy & don't forget, you did give him quite the hassle with the Valentine's bouquet. Either way I don't see anything wrong with it. Wouldn't hurt to bite into something sweet." Auron softly laughs at the last sentence. "Quiet you."

"& you get mad at me for making jokes, you're quite a prude. However," Auron thought a bit. "Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to indulge in something. Things have been pretty bland around here. Wouldn't hurt to indulge into something, I suppose."

He leans back. "When is it?"

"This sunday after 12pm. He said that's when his shop closes & is able to meet with you." Auron thought about it as he opened his laptop to check for his schedule. Obviously, the office was closed for the weekend for him & the office leaves early today because it's a friday. 

But what he did after hours, it's something very hard to reschedule.

"Tell Finn that I accept his offer," He knew he was going to do something stupid but for some reason.. "& I will pick him by 11." His heart couldn't help but beat.

☆ミ Author's Notes Underneath 👇 ☆ミ

🩷 - THE HOMOS ARE BACK AFTER LIKE 2 OR 3 MONTHS OF BEING GONE!! This was supposed to be intermission but they told themselves they didn't want that so I said oh okay & here we are. I hope you enjoyed this chapter because it took alot outta me to finish it.

[twig-gy]

so mind was repainting his walls last week. he dragged me in his room as if it was some kind of intervention, but he just wanted me to watch. what? him painting the walls? seriously? it was silly. even if you disregard how WRONG it is, for him to do that, for him to throw that little bit of whole away, it was just silly! like, the walls didn’t need to be repainted! there were a few scratches, a few places where the paint peeled, dents and stuff, but like. not enough for such a practical thing like the mind to bother repainting it when he has so much better to do! he was working on a song. i think be born? i don’t know why he chose be born, we don’t like be born, as you would expect from every tally hall fan ever. anyway, so he was working on a cover of be born, i saw the sheets. he uses these really tidy sheets, mechanical pencil. it fits him. such a minute detail, it seems to fit. of course he would use a mechanical pencil. a normal pencil isn’t dignified enough, i guess. and a pen isn’t erasable which sucks when you’re doing something like music. why is he working off of sheet music anyway? it confuses me. i got sidetracked.

so he has better things to do, and yet, he was repainting the walls? he didn’t even ask me, just kind of snatched my hand. it was really like something heart would do. he was getting into my space, just kind of arranged me on his bed, and i didn’t go. i don’t know why i didn’t go, i could’ve. i’m far stronger than him - that is to say, he’s a weak motherfucker who loses in any kind of fair fight. but i just sat there, staring as mind’s blue slowly overtook whole’s color. it felt like a metaphor, and not a pretty one.

did mind want to eradicate whole so thoroughly? fucking fool’s errand, but heart and mind are fools, mind’s just a bit more subtle about it. usually, when he’s not forcing me to watch him repaint his room. his room. it’s whole’s room, truly. whole’s walls, and it was whole’s color. mind doesn’t get it. he thinks he can do whatever he wants. even heard heart calling him dawn the other day. i detest it! like, truly detest it. it’s so stupid. dawn? what was he saying, he is the dawn? when the sun rises? beginnings, golden light spilling through his window? oh, look out your window and see me? HE DOESN’T DESERVE A NAME. AND CERTAINLY NOT ONE LIKE THAT. GOD FUCKING DAMMIT. that is not the beginning. what about whole? what about Him? it’s as if heart doesn’t care. and maybe he doesn’t. i’m SORRY i tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. cause i looked at his feathers and thought, just for a little halfsecond, oh. maybe there is a chance after all. but no! those two are so obstinant i want to claw my own skin off. so arrogant? you think you deserve a name? wearing stolen faces.

{what are you trying to show me,} i had asked mind, cause i know he would be doing that - that’s just what the mind does. nothing without purpose. he tapped the paintbrush on the wall. the paintbrush splattered a bit. it struck me. not as neat as he usually is. in fact, that’s something the heart would do. regardless, i was sitting there, just waiting. maybe he hadn’t logicked this out after all. maybe he just wanted to see me? ha. i hope not. [change.] is what he returned. [i can change these walls.] there was a breath. i’d say He was taking one too. it doesn’t quite make sense, in those words, but that was the feeling i had. i could hear Him. and mind was shutting him out. [and you can too.] he was obviously really hesitant with it, immediately turning back to the wall as if avoiding my expression. what did he think i would think? {oh, you’re so right mind. thanks for showing me this.} HA. i tried to leave. his desperation surprised me. [just hear me out. just hear me out,] and he was barely skirting around the please, as if i wouldn’t notice. [you’ll see.] something in it convinced me. he was pleading to something that would never listen, and yet he went on pleading. it doesn’t matter what it was about it, cause next time i’ll make sure i’m not convinced by it again.

but it was just him and me and his little art project, so i sat down. of course, i wasn’t convinced. but a smile was twitching at his lips, as if this was a little win. war of attrition. but i refuse to break down - pity for him, isn’t that.

[soscarlett1twas]

Midnight Church Bells

↳ Andrew and his brother sneak out. ↳ 2k words / also available on ao3! ↳ This fic is literally a year old lmao?? I was sorting through docs and found this finished draft, so I polished it a bit and here we are. Please forgive past me if the prose is... how we say 'shit'.

The holidays always snuck up on Andrew the same - sudden and unwelcome, but inevitable. This year, he’d been too invested in his studies, and, surprisingly, his own love life to notice much of withering leaves or decorations, but when he turned on the radio and heard those familiar jingles, he groaned in recognition. 

Really, it was none of those things (despite how much he did tire of those songs) that bittered Christmas for him. It was the fact that once the break started, his family would come calling. And despite all protests, his parents would never let him stay at college during the advent. 

“It’s time for the Lord.” His mother’s voice lifted through the phone he propped up on his dashboard. “And family,” she added after a moment. He resisted the urge to slam his head against the steering wheel, instead opting for biting his tongue. The one time his parents didn’t want him studying. 

Her saying that added to the sting of the season. And family. It seemed that this was the only time of year where that was on her mind. 

Which all led him to the same spot he was every December 24th: Sitting on his childhood bed, with whatever book he was currently reading in his hands, and classical music playing from his phone. 

Reclining into his pillow, Andrew lifted his glasses off and put them on the bedside table, a thumb folding the wings as the other worked as a bookmark. 

Yet he didn’t close his eyes. For one of those brief moments in life, he wasn’t thinking, or sleeping, or doing really anything at all. He was just there, in a limbo between sleep and consciousness, hoping that if he purposely derived himself the next day wouldn’t come as quickly.

And he stayed like that for 5 minutes. Or maybe it was 10, or maybe no time passed at all. But eventually he gave in to rest. No matter what, the morning would come and he’d rather not fall asleep during the already tedious sermons in church. So he set an alarm, put his book on the nightstand, and laid down.

He closed his eyes, and it was like he could hear the ringing already. 

Maybe he did.

A soft patter-ing rang just outside his door, the familiar sound of footsteps on carpet blotting the silence. And just as he was about to roll over, Andrew heard his door creak open, and the silhouette of a man leaned into the room. 

“Want to go on a walk?” He whispered, twinged with a sense of boredom. 

Andrew didn’t even need to turn to know who was asking. “Give me a moment,” he sighed, and motioned to push himself off the bed. 

“How did you know I was awake?” Andrew asked, still pulling his overcoat over his arms. 

“Your light was on, I saw it through your door.” His brother responded, turning off their driveway onto the sidewalk. He was slightly ahead of Andrew, but slowed a bit so that they were walking together. 

A cloud of mist formed from his breath as he stuffed his hands into his pockets, pulling the coat closer to himself to save some of his last remaining body heat. A near-midnight flit wasn’t what he had planned, but he’d prefer it than trying to sleep. Besides, this may be the only quality time he could spend with his twin during the break. God knows the time they’ve spent at college has already distanced them enough. 

“So,” he huffed, searching for a topic of conversation. “How have you been?” 

“Fine. Uni’s been beating my ass though - we spent practically the entire week leading up to the holidays in the lab, just sweating over our assignments. Jesus, I’m not even a Biochem major but Chemistry is just not letting up.”

It had been years since he was in a lab, but with the track he was on, he got the stress with ‘crunch time’. “I understand. I’ve recently had to rush a project for my Literary Theory course.” 

“What do you even do in that class?” He questioned, half serious, half mocking. 

“Analyze texts, find out how the culture of the author influenced their works.” He could go on: Literary Theory was one of his favorite classes, no matter how rigorous the course was, but he knew his brother wouldn’t care to hear the details. 

Winding down their street, the two carried on talking about academia with a partial interest, not fully understanding either’s field of study but trying to be supportive anyways. Soughing wind bent branches to a static beat as they approached the neighborhood's egress. By and by they were talking about the more social aspects of their schooling: Andrew’s literature club, the parties either rarely attended, his brother’s friends.

“How has your roommate been?” Andrew asked, kicking a rock under his shoe and watching it roll along the concrete. 

“Good.” He sighed out a laugh. “He’s great, actually.”

Andrew glanced over to his brother, and if the slight warmth in his voice wasn’t enough, the red on his cheeks told him everything he needed to know. He chuckled too, and gave a soft nudge on his shoulder, making them both smile. 

In a weird way, they never needed to tell eachother about any of this stuff. Equal parts the awkwardness that surrounded telling your sibling, your twin of all people, who you were interested in and an unspoken alliance against their parents had kept them from ever openly speaking it. But Andrew knew his brother was into guys ever since they were teens, he just didn’t know if his brother had caught on to his own preferences yet.

The stone made a sharp sound as it drifted over to his brother, who promptly kicked it back to Andrew with the inside of his shoe. 

“Helios, right?” 

His brother hummed in response. 

His mind trailed to the man at his college, the one who he had desperately wanted to introduce to him, and found himself grinning at the mere thought. God, he hoped Isaac would like his brother. 

He opened his mouth, then shut it quickly. What would he even say? He trusted his brother, but to come out was something entirely different, and with Christmas just around the corner? No, he’d wait. Right after, though, he’d tell him. Andrew silently swore it to himself. 

“Honestly, I prefer the dorms to the house.” 

That snapped Andrew out of his thinking. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” He stopped abruptly, and threw his arms out in exasperation. “Isn’t it suffocating to you too?” 

Everytime he was in his room, Andrew could only remember the sleepless nights he spent hunched over and studying. The dining table was a barrage of moments he spent silent as his parents and brother fought. The living room was a danger zone, as he never wanted to catch his parents when they were disappointed in his brother, or worse, him. The whole house could burn down and the only memories that would go with it were the most futile. Worse was, even without flames, Andrew felt like he wadded through smoke every time he was in those walls.

He silently nodded his head. His brother just stared at him, as if he wanted voice confirmation. But how can one speak up against the pyre when its fumes had already scorched his vocal cords? 

After a moment, his brother kept walking, and Andrew followed. “I contemplated not coming back this winter.” He muttered.

“As did I.” Andrew responded, suddenly getting his voice back. 

“What could you possibly be avoiding?” 

A million and one answers filled his head, but none escaped him - no matter what he said, not a single one would measure up to his brother's reasons. So why even bother trying to compare? 

His twin huffed as he turned away, suddenly gaining some distance on Andrew, and he let him keep it. 

For a while, the only sound they made was their shoes against concrete sidewalks and the crunch as they occasionally had to step into snow. Andrew brought his hands up to his face, cupping them to breathe and warm himself up. Normally he kept gloves in his pockets, just in case. But, of course, he just had to forget them tonight. His fingers combed through his hair, forcing him to look straight ahead at his brother's back. Again, he bit his tongue. But wasn’t that what had gotten him into this situation, unintentionally pushing his brother away by not talking? He didn’t understand it, but only continuing the cycle wasn’t going to help anything. 

So he opened his mouth, just in time to slam right into his brother. 

He stumbled, but his brother didn’t flinch. Or even look at Andrew. His eyes remained trained to the tree line, frozen in place. 

Regaining his footing, Andrew tried again. “Dar-“

“Stop.” He whispered.

“No, D-“  

“Shut up, Andrew, just listen.” 

So he did. 

For a few seconds, he didn’t hear anything. His eyes fell where his brother’s were focused, though without his glasses, the details were fuzzy. 

Then, a distant chime hit his ear. 

More followed. 

A symphony of church bells rang, each peal like a glimmer in the air. 

Andrew knew they rang the bells at midnight every Christmas Eve, though he couldn’t remember the last time he had heard them. During mass, he could imagine it would be unbearable. But from here? The sound was quite pleasant. 

As the bells continued, the twins stood there, listening to it all. Andrew was the first to tear his eyes away from the church he couldn’t see, glancing over at his brother through the corner of his eye. It was the first good look he had gotten at him in a long time. 

Andrew hadn’t realized how short a decade was. Though in context of anything else, the last ten years of his life had dawdled. But with his brother? It was like the blink of an eye. One moment they were running and laughing, a mirror image of one another - even the Christmas’ were tolerable. Fun, even. The next, blooming into adulthood - mimics of who they used to be.

In fact, the longer he looked at him, Andrew realized just how much his brother had changed. His hair had definitely grown, locked into a short ponytail that hung low with swooping bangs, and he made the full switch to contacts some time ago. He even got taller, and next to Andrew, he was a lofty inch or two higher. Though that could also be accredited to the boots he wore. (Ashamed to say, Andrew didn’t remember when or how he got them. They certainly weren’t a gift from their parents, but did his brother even have a job to afford them?) He was more muscular, which wasn’t saying much compared to Andrew, but he was certainly leaner. The man never made a mention of continuing his secondary school athletics, but maybe he did as an extracurricular? Again, Andrew was straining to remember specifics. Though, he supposed any reason to play was now null, as originally it was a brilliant excuse to come home late without his parents accusing him of deviancy. 

But he wasn’t too alien to him. There was something still familiar to him, like flecks of gold shining through, no matter how small. After all, they began to sneak out when they were fourteen and are still doing it now. There must be something that still connected them. 

Right?

Just as he had that thought, he missed his brother's pass, and the pebble went flying into a curb. 

They walked in silence for a while longer, bells fading to the wind. Eventually they found themselves back on their driveway, and their silence became deafening as they lightened their footsteps. God knows what their parents would do if they found out they had been out so late.

They followed one another up the stairs, crossed the same hallway, and went to rooms adjoining. There was a time they shared one, but that was before they had moved. 

Andrew slipped open his door, the knob turning slowly as to mute itself. As he slipped in, he turned half-way to see his brother doing the same.

His brother looked up, catching his gaze. 

Andrew saw himself in the reflection of his eyes. They were bitter, burning with… not rage. But a violent form of disappointment. 

Andrew was reflected in them. And he could smell the smoke wafting. 

[my-craft]

They were a good egg.

[coconutdays]

seat taker

s. you have a crush on the smartest and sexiest guy in your lit class who happens to ride a motorcycle with spooky season around the corner. what ever might happen?

w.c. 10.6k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut! (its more so toward the end so u can read until it cuts off to that lol if u want)

a/n: based on this idea I posted about biker!geto from uni lol, I didn't really proofread so ill get to that sometime later after I shower and eat lol just wanted to get this out

"go sit next to him then."

you take a nervous gulp from your water bottle as you walk to your lit class. the effort was a bit clumsy considering you were using one hand to open and close it while the other held your phone, your friend on the other line.

"never, would I ever have the balls to do that. i may be confident but I am not as delusional as the caveman gym bro that took your seat so he could sit next to me in anthropology."

she laughs on the other end, a hysterical giggle at your backtalk.

"well then he's just gonna keep thinking you're creepy cause you stare."

you let out a haughty scoff, "as if I acknowledge his existence." a finger of yours goes up in the air, as if she could see you being a smartass about your discretion, "I never look at him. I only get in a glance or two when he asks the professor a question or when he raises his hand to answer a question."

"you're insane."

"unfixable." you sigh prettily and proudly before giving a more serious response to her first suggestion, "and it would be really awkward if I sat next to him either way. the class is packed and everyone has their assigned unassigned seats, the white haired guy that always sits next to him would probably push me off his seat if he ever saw me there."

"that is true. some girl did that to me in stats and I was like ??? have you not been sitting somewhere else this entire semester? pissed me off that I had to sit somewhere else and take someone's seat."

you're about five seconds away from your lecture hall door when you add to her complaint.

"right. and then that person looks at you funny cause you took their seat and then argh–its just a fucking domino effect." you turn around and take a step into the class, the sight before you bringing emphasis to the last words that you meant to finish off with, "fuck seat takers..."

"huh. what was that last part?"

your classroom is full. every one of the 200 seats are seemingly just taken. it's a sight you're not used to when you walk into class. normally, when you decide to go in, about half of the class is there, and you were starting to curse the fact that you gave yourself the luxury to finish the last of your reading for next week ahead of time. those ten minutes didn't seem like they'd make a difference, they sure do now...

with white haired guy sitting in YOUR seat.

its across the lecture hall from where he normally sits, next to Geto, who just so conveniently has an empty seat next to him, the only empty seat.

poker face, poker face, poker face.

it's all you repeat to yourself as you walk up the carpet steps to the row where Geto is sitting and try to continue the conversation with your friend.

there's no white noise, some people are typing away at their computers and others are chatting with the person next to them or near them, so it gives you room to explain yourself a little without being heard.

"everybody's already in class, and white haired guy is in my seat dude, and guess which seat isn't fucking taken." there's an edge to your voice, however it lays undetectable with your calm face.

"WAITTTTTTTT. AHAHA–"

you can feel your body heating up in nerves when you start walking between Geto's row, to the seat next to him.

"stop f/n. I am on the verge of committing a serious crime. I'm going to actually end up in handcuffs by the end of today. the–"

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA." She keeps laughing at you as you force yourself to not care that you're pulling out and sinking into the chair next to Geto. If he acknowledged you, you wouldn't have known, his mere presence something you deleted from your mind in order to process the current events before you right now.

a high pitched and drawn out HA is the last of her laughs you hear before she speaks again, "I basically manifested this for you. you should be thanking me."

"fuck your manifesting. I'm not excited for this." you don't care to filter your voice into a whisper, it stays at its normal tone even though you're next to Geto because he didn't even know what the conversation was about anyway.

you balance your phone between your shoulder and cheek while you begin to take out your iPad and journal for class.

"ask him for a ride on his motorcycle after heh." she pokes at you and you feel like you can hear her poking out her tongue in malevolence.

even though you're slightly grumpy at your predicament, you manage to make a comment accompanied by a sigh, "with the way midterms are looking, id need a different kind of ride."

"you can ask him for that too~"

"shut up, you menace."

"hehe," she strikes evilly, "well, I'll leave you to your class with your boyfriend."

"no, stop, the class doesn't even–"

"bye!"

and she hung up on you, leaving you to flip mindlessly through your notebook while you try to ignore the presence of the hot hot hot piece of sexiness next to you.

suguru geto has been at the forefront of your mind for weeks now. you had always slightly admired him from afar, considering your actual seat in the lecture hall was across the room from him. he was undeniably attractive, with his long black always tied up in a bun and clean outfits. and his intelligence, he was always one to garner thoughtful debates in class in response to the professors teachings. his calmness towards everything was enough to make you swoon at the thought go him being that patient with you too.

and his stupid motorcycle, the thing that made it all click for you.

you had been walking to the library after class to meet with your classmate to work on an anthropology presentation when you caught a glimpse–stare–of him getting onto a motorcycle and pulling a helmet over his head before he quickly rode off to wherever he was going. for some reason, it really got your gears grinding and wishing you could just jump this man and do some truly desperate things.

he was all you thought about after. none of the other cute guys in your classes could hold a candle to the being that is suguru geto, renouncing you into a pining mess that looked forward to every lit class–even though you pretended you didn't care for him.

god, what even was the point in all of this if you weren't ever going to make a move? if he just SPOKE to you first maybe you could get some rizz in–

"you have pretty handwriting."

"I–what?"

you perk up like a deer in headlights at the sudden voice of Geto, wondering if you're the one he's speaking to.

and he is, he's spinning a pen between his fingers while he looks at you, slightly gesturing towards the journal in your hands, your cursive covering the pages of it.

"oh!" you're still caught off guard, doe eyes in the face of his sudden and scary, to you, comment, "thank you. can't even read it sometimes though, it's like trying to understand another language when I have to study what I write after."

he smiles slightly at your comment, a whisp of his dark hair swaying near his right eye, "I think it'd be cool to try and translate."

you resist the urge to curl into a ball and wish he would just look away from you, but you persevere, holding out your journal to him.

"be my guest." you say without hesitance

he sets his pen aside when he grabs it, immediately flipping through the pages and starting to skim through your notes, his eyes moving side to side as he does. you get a good view of him while he goes about trying to decipher your writings. he's wearing a black shirt today, it's not exactly tight, but not loose either. it gives you the perfect view of his arms bulging a bit, his biceps' size is an eye sore for you.

he's wearing these black stud earrings too, only visible because of the bun that he keeps his long hair. you wish you could see how long his hair actually was sometimes, he had never worn it down to class.

"looks like I'm more versed in your cursive than you are." he glances at you, a faint smile on his lips

your eyebrows raise a little and your eyes widen, "what? you can read it?"

he closes the journal and slides it to your spot on the very long lecture table. geto then leans over to your side a bit, close to your ear, and starts to point across the room to his white haired friend.

"see that idiot with the pitch black glasses?"

the question sends chills down your spine, the proximity making your heart race.

"y-yeah."

"silver spoon baby. learned cursive when he was four and it's basically incomprehensible unless you've been sharing notes with him since high school."

a laugh flows out of your lips, etching a smile on your face. your shoulder slightly bumps into his chest from it before you turn your head to directly face his.

"and I'm taking it that you're well versed in his cursive then too?"

he looks at you with a slight dreaminess in his eyes, his height still domineering over you even if you were both seated next to each other.

"have to be, would have failed lots of class projects if I didn't"

you take the opportunity to poke about the whereabouts of his friend in your seat now that he's been mentioned.

"and why's he sitting over there then?" you blink up at him for a response

at this, geto sinks back to his original position on his chair, face a million miles away from yours now as he goes back to fiddling with his pen.

"he's...trying to flirt with the girl he's talking to right now." he shakes his head a little, although there isn't much of a disappointed look in his face, it's more entertained. he was probably used to his friend's antics by now.

"ah. at least it looks like she's into it." you dispense the weight of your head onto the palm of your hand as you look at his friend with him, "could not have been me."

"what?"

you don't turn to look at him as you respond, "this Andrew Tate gym bro took my friend's seat to sit next to me in my anthropology class the other day. tried speaking to me like those guys who swear all you need is a computer to become a millionaire. worst ninety minutes of my life."

you hear a puff of a laugh from geto

"I can guarantee you Gojo has better skills than that. he's probably talking about his Halloween party for this weekend."

you flip your head to look at him suddenly, "he's that guy?"

every big party that everyone talked about on campus was always held by Gojo. they had numerous amounts of beers and liquor bottles. always the best music, the best hookup stories, the best snacks, everything. you hadn't put a face to the name until now, although it should've clicked when you found out Geto's name. his was always being paired with Gojo, as some would put it, two pretty best friends.

geto could see the gears turning in your head and his eyes creased a little at your realization in a smile, "yea, that's the guy."

you're a bit taken aback by his confirmation and turn to take another look at gojo before looking back at geto.

amused, geto speaks again, "by all means, go for it, he's–"

you quickly shake your head and stretch out both your hands to frantically do the same, "no, god, no. i'm not into him. it's just I didn't know that was him. I always hear good things about his parties."

geto nods, "he has an affinity for making sure everyone has a good time. you ever been to one?"

you shake your head, "never, haven't had the chance to or been invited."

"you should go to the Halloween one." geto suggests, gesturing his pen in your direction before going back to spinning it around his fingers, "you know where it is?"

you shake your head again, now completely facing his direction, the attention you were giving to his friend gone and now placed on him.

geto gestures towards your journal and reaches for it, "may I?"

you nod, curious at what he was going to do.

he flips the journal and opens the very last page, guaranteed to be blank and begins writing something on it.

when he pushes it back to your side of the table, you can see what he's written now, an address.

"that's where the frat house is."

you wiggle your eyebrows a little at him, "you in the frat too?"

geto laughs fully this time and shakes his head, "no. I have my own apartment. that's just gojo's thing."

you acknowledge him and look over the address written on your journal, "I'll think about it. have to wear my costume somewhere right?"

"what is it?" he tilts his head curiously, genuine interest in what you would choose to dress up as.

you try to bite back the smile at the knowledge you have of your costume and choose to leave it up in the air for him, tapping your journal on his shoulder.

"now that is something for you to find out if you see me at the party."

just how it's entailed in mean girls, you dress up slutty for gojo's halloween party. you wore a playboy bunny costume, close to one of the sluttier things you can wear, but it's rare recently for girls to wear as opposed to the trendy fairy and angel costumes lately.

although it isn't exactly halloween yet, its the first out of the two parties gojo was holding in honor of the holiday. next weekend there would be another one on the actual day, but you didn't know if you'd go that one yet, you were going to see what this one was all about though.

you brought your friend with you, hooking her up with the address geto provided you because she had been aching to go to one of gojo's parties too.

your eyes light up when you see geto's sleek black motorcycle parked near the garage as the both of you walk to the door.

"god, there's so many people inside." your friend all but screeches in excitement and you would too if it weren't for the nerves of impending doom that geto, your everything crush and classmate, was going to see you wearing this.

the chills that come from the thought make you rub your shoulders for heat as you walk inside and the blaring of the music becomes even more booming now that it isn't being shielded by the walls of the house.

"where do you think the drinks are?" you try to speak up, a trace of small worry at bumping into geto laced in your voice.

she raises her head up and looks around to see where she could spot the alcohol until she starts dragging you by the hand, "the kitchen is over here I think!"

she pushes the both of you past clusters of people, paving the way for her desire for vodka and it makes you bump into someone a bit roughly.

you try to voice out your apology quickly as she keeps dragging you along, looking back at who you just bumped into.

it's geto.

his eyes show mild surprise, not one for entirely showing his emotions, they're widened a bit and he looks a bit taken aback while his eyes rake up and down your body–still being dragged away. he's not wearing a costume, sporting a white t-shirt and jeans instead.

the words of apology you were going to utter fall off as you make eye contact and realize it was him you bumped into, he who just got an obvious look at your costume.

you're glad the speed of your friend makes the interaction short lived due to her lightning speed in suddenly bringing you to the kitchen, which is lined with beer and liquor of all kinds, every space of the spacious kitchen taken up by alcohol.

you hurriedly reach to serve yourself a cup of strawberry vodka, hoping that the first sip and those after might make your nerves dilute. when you turn around to talk to your friend, who's probably already served herself straight flavorless vodka, she's being flirted with by her anthropology club crush. she gives you a quick glance, a combination of 'oh my god oh my god' and 'sorry' being communicated to you.

you smile at her knowingly and point towards where everyone was dancing and talking, marking that that's where you would be while you left her to go as far as she wanted with the boy in front of her.

you're halfway through the crowd to make it to the patio when a voice is suddenly in your ear from behind.

"is it as cool as people say?"

you jump at the intrusion and cradle the cup of vodka to your chest and look at who just spoke to you.

it's geto, exactly behind you, his large frame towering over your body and leaned over so you could hear him.

you're stopped in your tracks and turn around to face him now, trying hard not to feel intimated by your basically half naked right in front of him.

"yeah!" you nod

geto turns his head a little from his spot at least a foot above you and leans down again, at level heads with you

"sorry, say that again." he looks at you earnestly, wanting to be able to properly hear your answer with the loud music echoing into your ears and his.

"I said yeah! I didn't know parties could be this packed!" you say, taking a nervous sip from your cup as you look at him

"what happened to your friend?" geto keeps his posture the way it is to keep talking to you

"the guy she likes started talking to her!" you exclaim past the loud blare of music.

"ah." he nods, taking a quick glance to the kitchen and spotting your friend smiling eagerly at the guy in a jason costume in front of her. "what are you going to do then?"

you blink cluelessly, haven't actually thought about until he asked you.

"dance!" you look around the room so he could look with you. bodies pressed against each other and bodies dancing by themselves all across the room.

geto smiles and straightens himself before reaching a hand out to you and gives you a look of 'wanna take it?'

you can't help the bashful smile that makes its way to your face as you hesitantly take his hand. he softly brings you closer to him, not as close as the other horny bodies in the room, but it's a little intimate and makes you feel intoxicated. he puts his other hand high on your waist, making sure to avoid the sluttiness beneath that line of your torso considering your outfit, and he starts to sway the both of you to the music. he holds you to himself with you hook an arm over his shoulder and use the other hand to hold your drink, singing along to the music with a toothy smile.

it was playful, the interaction with him, a fun setting between the both of you. the combination of that and the large heap of strawberry vodka you served yourself and managed to finish by the second song with him were the reason for your increasing comfortable nature with him. you were laughing and laying your head on his chest frequently through your endless bursts of energy and gasping breaths for relief.

he was smiling throughout the entirety of it, never getting too comfortable though, and keeping his hands where they had originally been.

"I just wanna be one of your girls tonight!" you sing at the top of your lungs.

geto lets go of one of the hands encircling you and instead reaches for one of the hands splayed across his shoulder and chest, caressing it with a thumb.

you tug at him a little with your other hand and he leans down to hear what you're about to say.

"wanna get drinks?" you ask, craving a sweet hard seltzer instead of another pour of vodka.

"you want something?" geto asks you back

"are there any strawberry drinks?" you blink up at him

geto looks like he's thinking for a second, trying to remember the usual drinks his best friend caters, before he nods, "yeah there are. want me to get you one?"

you nod eagerly at him and follow him to kitchen. he had taken a hold of your hand when he noticed you were going to accompany him, he didn't want you to struggle getting through all those people.

he had been bent over to look through a cooler on the floor before he stood up and held out a strawberry daiquiri to you, "here."

"thank you." you nod before you jump and sit on the countertop so you could rest and drink

you notice geto doesn't have a drink in his hand when he leans against the kitchen island in front of you.

"you didn't want a drink?"

geto shakes his head calmly, "gotta drive back."

"oh." you remember his motorcycle from earlier near the garage and strike another question so he doesn't know that you know he has a motorcycle. incredible logic.

"what kinda car do you have?"

"ah, not a car, a motorcycle." he smiles slightly, the answer was humble

"oh~"you drag out–as if it was new information to you–and continue drinking from your bottle.

"you have a ride back home though?" geto asks, crossing his arms over his chest so he could be more comfortable while listening to you.

"uhh," you reach for your phone and see a message from your friend asking if it was okay for her to go to McDonalds with her crush, "well I was going to uber with my friend, but she just had a change of plans."

"I can take you home." he offers genuinely, tilting his head in await for your answer.

"In your motorcycle?!" you blurt out

he starts laughing heartily at your answer and smirks at you when he speaks again, "never been on one?"

"no." you shake your head, a bit intimidated, "what if I fall. im literally naked im gonna get cut up by the road."

geto smiles at you, "that's a fair concern, but I'll give you my helmet and let you borrow my jacket, it's big, it should cover you up a bit no?"

although the alcohol leaves your brain empty, you think it over which involved nothing but staring at him in supposed 'thought' before you nod, "okay."

"can I give you my number? so you can send me your address?" geto asks, shuffling a little bit closer to you

"mhm." you hand your phone to him and watch as he types away into your phone before he hands it back to you. when you stare back at his contact name, suguru geto, it makes a dawn of realization wash over you.

"you don't know my name, rig–"

"y/n."

you do a double take at how fast he says it and his eyes crease at your reaction.

"what?"

"you get involved in the lectures a lot." he takes note for you

"oh." you sink back into yourself

"do you know mine?"

you shyly respond with a, "yea, you get involved a lot too..."

"good to know." he grins a little, watching as you take the last sip of your drink and gesturing back towards the dancing scene, "wanna go back?"

"yeah." you confirm softly, taking the hand he gives you so you can get off the countertop smoothly. and when your feet touch the ground, you yelp, "ow ow ow ow!"

the hour of pure dancing and jumping around had not been a good rival for your new and tall heels. they were a height you had walked before, but the shoes themselves were new and not worn in, causing a great deal of pain across your entire foot.

geto held you by just below your armpits, the worry he had seeping through in his widened eyes and his leaning over to see if he find out what was wrong with you.

"what's wrong?" he asks quickly

"the heels," you scrunch up your nose in pain and sigh, "they hurt like a bitch now that I got a bit of rest."

you can tell geto feels bad about your pain by the way he grimaces for you and plants you on the countertop again. he suddenly kneels down and begins to work at the clasps of your heels.

"you can borrow my shoes. that sound alright?" he looks up at you from where he's at, already sliding one of the heels from your feet.

you're quick to deny, "but what about you?"

"satoru and I are the same size, I can just ask him for a pair, he has a million."

you give in at his response, embarrassed, "okay."

"you want me to take you home now?" he lightheartedly smiles as he works on the other heel, "I think you can walk in my shoes, but dancing doesn't seem doable."

"well yea." you say dejectedly, a little frown etching itself on your face when he finally comes back up, his lips quirk up a little when he sees it

"wait for me here then." he says, putting your shoes next to you on the countertop before he walks off a little hurriedly to you assume gojo's room.

when geto walks you to his motorcycle, he takes your heels and puts them in the compartment box of it for you, then takes his helmet and immediately puts it on your head.

an 'oomf' leaves your mouth at the sudden weight of it and he looks a little amused as he starts working at the straps of it.

"there you go."

he smirks a little as he looks at the, very large in comparison to you, helmet, and picks up his jacket that he brought back from gojo's room to put on you.

"there we go" he sighs, almost like he's proud of himself and gets on the motorcycle, turning his torso a little to pat behind him for you to get on too.

when you get on and take in the feeling of sitting on a motorcycle for the first time, he's turned around and looking at his phone, pinching and zooming in on the route to your apartment.

"you actually live pretty close to me." he murmurs, noting what roads to take.

"yeah?" you yawn, laying your head on his back

"alright," geto says, starting up his motorcycle, revving it up a bit, "hug me tight okay?"

you nod sleepily and wrap your arms around him, brain so eased by the alcohol in your system that you don't overthink it, as if your sober self wouldn't be screaming and crying on the inside during this exact situation.

geto drives off at a decent pace, some part of you thinking that this might not be the speed he normally drives off and that he was taking it a bit slower just for you. you could feel him breathe in and out all throughout the ride, his chest and stomach were rising and falling underneath your touch. you fell half asleep on him halfway through it, managing to grasp onto him like a child with their stuffed animal, and unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids.

you blink back to reality at the sudden stop of movement, the stilling air was no longer brushing past your skin and the noise of wheels screeching against the road was gone.

after geto helps you get his helmet off, he hangs it on one of the handles and takes your heels out of the compartment box.

"this is your place right?"

another yawn flutters past your mouth again and you hold out your pointer finger to say yes.

"alright." geto says, watching as you lead the way into and through your apartment and to your place. he had placed a ghost of his hand near your back in case you started to trip up from his shoes considering their size in comparison to your feet. the walk was quiet considering your focus on making it to your door and the overwhelming sleepiness dawning on you.

when you get to your door you slip off geto's shoes and them to him, taking your heels from him in return.

"thank you, geto." you hold try not to yawn again, doe eyes sleepily fluttering at him

"you can call me by my first name." he comments comfortingly, "and no problem. see you in class?"

"yeah." and this time you do yawn, again, before you open your door and walk inside, looking at him while you hold onto the frame.

"alright then." he looks down at you from across the doorway, one hand in his pocket, the other holding onto his shoes, "get some rest okay?"

"okay." you almost murmur, your bed calling out to you.

you get to class at the time you usually do the following class meeting. the weather forecast had been a little chilly, so you opted for a cozy, off the shoulder sweater. it was fashionable and you had been dying to use it the moment you saw the weather forecast the night before.

you're scribbling notes onto your iPad this time, going over lecture notes from your earlier class that day. there were some things you forgot to add and that's what you always used this time for before class started. you see the class start filling in minute by minute out of your peripheral vision as you do this.

your habit of pretending to not care about suguru's presence is still existent, so all you can see for a fleeting second when you look into your backpack for a mint is that he is indeed sitting at his normal spot with gojo.

there was no chance to look at him that day in class, he hadn't spoken, which wasn't really rare, sometimes you wouldn't speak in class either. you, however, did speak in class that day, the module that the professor was teaching that day had piqued your interest a great amount and thus called for a great amount of your interaction with the lesson.

by the end of class, you were setting quick reminders on the notes you had taken of what was the most important before you started packing your bag to leave. the sound of feet and shuffling to leave the class a bit noisy, but it could let you make out the distant loud voice of gojo, probably talking to suguru.

"I have been on my best behavior. I do not know what you mean by that Suguru." "No no no that was a favor, look where it got you." "Oh you are such a wuss."

It was only a little appealing considering the fact that you couldn't hear what suguru was saying and the things that gojo was saying didn't let you get any clues as to what they were talking about. oh well.

you wanted to go home and start studying for a test tomorrow, so you started walking out of class, past suguru and gojo's line of view.

you heard a smack, like one of them had hit the other.

and gojo's voice, "idiot."

you were sitting at your desk, going over the last of your test review when you felt your phone buzz across the desk and picked it up

suguru

hey

y/n

hi

suguru

you wanna take satoru's seat next class?

y/n

he wants to flirt with mika again?

suguru

not rlly lol.

y/n

?????

suguru

I think it'd be cool to switch desk buddies every once in a while ;)

y/n

lmaooo. I won't tell mika if that's what you're scared of

suguru

haha, that's not rlly the case, but just take his seat

y/n

okay?

when you go to class again that same week, you hesitantly take gojo's seat. there was no follow up text from suguru after you said your okay and it was a little off putting. of course it had only been that night and the day after that he hadn't texted again, but it was a little weird, especially for it being the very first text conversation he strikes with you. the only thing that had been exchanged between either of you in your messages had been your address to him from gojo's party.

there were no notes for you to go over, there was no test or important knowledge that you had to use soon in any upcoming classes, so you were left to wait for the class to begin while you aimlessly scrolled through your phone and watched people come into class.

three minutes had passed before suguru and gojo were walking into class together. gojo was rubbing his friend's shoulder rather roughly, a fang filled smile on his face as he said something to him. suguru didn't seem to mind it, like many things, his eyes still had that warmth they always had, but it looked like he had said something back.

gojo playfully shoved suguru forward by the back before he laughed evilly and walked to your original seat, if you were right, you could see his bright blue eyes flick to you for a second behind his glasses before he smiled at the girl he flirted with last week.

you look up at suguru as he finally gets to the seat next to you.

"hey." he sighs with a smile as he plops into the seat.

"hey." you smile only halfway, a little tired from staying up to finish a homework the night before.

"sorry about the cryptic texts." he starts to apologize, moving his chair a little closer to yours, "satoru took my phone."

ah. that's why it seemed so out of character

"it's fine." you reassure, "they were a little off putting to read."

suguru scratches at the back of his neck, "I'm sorry about that. I meant to text after but I felt awkward."

"really? about?"

for the first time, you see him stumble on what to say, hesitance obvious when he opens and closes his mouth for a painfully slow second before he manages to respond, "to see if you were coming to the party on actual Halloween night this weekend."

"oh." your mouth opens in a little oh, oblivious to what he really wanted to say, "I'm not too sure. my friend that I went to the party with is spending it with that same guy she left with. so I don't have anyone to go with. plus I already used my costume."

"what's wrong with using the playboy bunny costume again?"

you eye him, disappointed, and lean over to flick his forehead, "i...am not an outfit repeater, suguru. the people who saw me at last week's party are going to remember me and say 'she's using the same costume again, what a loser'"

he gazes back at you as if you pat his head instead of just flicking it, warmth and a hint of mischief seeping into his stare, "you're right, you did catch a lot of attention."

"what?"

suguru leans back in his seat and answers, "you looked beautiful. it was hard to ignore."

"for who?"

"for me and every guy with eyes at the party."

he seems calm and confident when he says it, but his cheeks and ears start to get a slight pinkish hue as he awaits your response.

you try to keep looking at him, fighting the need to look away and wait for the professor to start class, your flustered face saying all too well what you're feeling, "what am I supposed to say to that?"

"you don't have to." suguru moves forward, positions his feet to face you as well as his face, and puts his elbow on the table, slanting his body onto it a little, "The president of gojo's frat asked for your name. He really liked you."

"Zenin?!"

"You like him?" he asks, with the tone of a guy who would try to set you up with the president if you said yes.

you shake your head, gaze looking down in embarrassment, "no no. it just caught me off guard..."

"if you like Toji it's fine," he tries to lower his head so he could catch your eye again, speaking earnestly yet something about it sounds like it's fake, it's weird, "he's like a dog, treat him well and he's loyal. although he can be brutally possessive, probably the type to leave hickeys on your legs if you're going to be with him and wear a costume like the one from the party."

"no, I don't like him. he's not my type." you answer meekly, having felt a bit of pressure from his boasts of the frat president.

"no?"

"no."

and before he can continue with his intense conversation again, you're saved by your professor, dramatically entering the class and bellowing for all of you to pay attention to him.

when your class ends, you try and succeed at scampering away from suguru before he can get a word out. as if she possessed magical powers, your friend called you the moment your professor ended the lesson. within the millisecond her name popped up on your phone, you grabbed at your phone at put it to your ear.

"hello?"

"hey hey! I have a question!"

you pay no mind to suguru as you haul your backpack over your shoulders and begin to walk out of class.

"what's up?"

"do you want the extra halloween costume I bought? levi is taking me to dinner on halloween for our date and I won't get to use it."

"the fembot costume?!"

you can almost makeout the banter between suguru and gojo a way's away behind you as you walk down the concrete steps of the building.

"yeah! you can go to gojo's party in it!" she beams, before her voice gains a bit of malice, "you can dance with motorcycle guy again~"

"go there by myself?" you groan, almost wanting to stomp your feet on the pavement beneath you

"lots of girls go by themselves to parties!"

"well I've never done that." you grumble

"aw come on. use the costume and go for me. pretty pleaseeeee."

"I'm going to give you a reason to be scared on halloween if this goes south for me. got it?"

it's cold when you get to gojo's party and you're beyond psyched out of your mind. from the unbelievably slutty costume that let everyone see your naked body in panties due to sheer babydoll material and the fear of coming across a very handsome suguru or toji zenin, who as handsome as he was might be able to seduce you, but you didn't want him like you did suguru.

you're more conscious of the stares now, due to suguru's previous comment and the fact that this costume was way more revealing.

on instinct you rush to the kitchen and get a strawberry daiquiri like the one suguru got for you exactly a week ago. you didn't want to get drunk tonight considering you came by yourself, so reaching for the strawberry vodka again was not within your list of options.

your eyes were on high alert as you pushed yourself through the countless bodies dancing, trying to remain unseen.

it doesn't give you cause to hide for some reason, considering he's suguru's friend, but you see satoru strut to the kitchen in a slutty firefighter costume. he was wearing the pants and boots, and nothing on top but a set of suspenders. classic.

however, you do a double take when you suguru geto wearing that same exact costume. you swear you feel your eye twitch in frustration when your eyes see his hair finally down, splayed across his back and chest, and get a peek of a tattoo tracing his spinal structure, bone for bone, going all the way up his back until it gets interrupted by his hair. his arms are practically calling to you when he fist bumps a toji zenin wearing a prisoner costume, they flex and bulge at the action. his abs are all perfectly prominent and–

he just made eye contact with you.

you hadn't gojo walk up to him and whisper something into his ear, probably that you were here.

fuck you satoru gojo.

suguru smiles immediately and turns to walk to you, leaving you to stay in place and not run away from him.

"you bought another costume?"

"no," you feel your chest heave at the sight of him, breath getting caught in your throat with his very shirtless self right in front of you. it makes you look off to a girl dancing behind him when you continue, "my friend gave me hers because she didn't end up dressing up."

"you want me to bring zenin?" he points a thumb behind him, towards the kitchen, face the definition of calm and suave.

you glare at him this time and take a sip of your daiquiri

"what? feeling shy?" he smiles down at you, if he weren't such a peaceful seeming person, you would have said it was condescending

"I'm not into zenin." a tinge of irritation already seeping into your voice.

"you sure?" he moves closer to you, your face right smack in front of his chest.

"yes." you jut your chin at him, done with his shenanigans

his lips twitch a little when he tugs your strawberry daiquiri out of your hands, grabs you by the neck, thumb close to your chin, and says, "open your mouth." he immediately starts to chug from your daiquiri and the thought of realization dawns on you of what he was about to do.

you open your mouth and he pushes his body closer to yours as he spits the drink into your mouth, his eyes solely on yours as he does it besides for when he briefly looks at something or someone behind you rather haughtily. he's still holding you and intently watching when you swallow it down immediately. that familiar happy crease of his eyes sketched itself across his face after.

you're heaving a little, star struck by the action the both of you just committed, "what was that suguru?"

"scaring off zenin. you don't want him right?"

his eyelids flutter a bit, something yours did whenever they were sleepy and it makes you search into his eyes more. your curiosity dying when you see the sudden red veins clouding the whites of his eyes. and you push him off.

"are you kidding me? you're high?"

"and drunk." he smiles, not minding your pushing him off and still inserting himself into your personal space again.

you try to speak and can't, solely out of irritation at the fact that he did that because of his intoxicated state. you bite your lip to stop yourself from overreacting and settle for shaking your head.

"you don't like guys who smoke?" he asks, genuine concern laced with his stupid crossed persona at the moment, "I tend to never smoke, but satoru passed me his joint when I was already at the 'whatever happens' point of a tequila bottle ."

"I really don't care about that in a guy, as long as he's not a musty constant weed user that can never cope with his life." you roll your eyes at him slightly, "but you just spit alcohol into my mouth because you're crossed as fuck."

"no." he scoffs, now entirely entranced in his conversation with you.

"yes."

"I spit alcohol into your mouth so zenin wouldn't come up to you."

the response makes you cross your arms over each other, "a simple 'hey she's not into you like that' would have sufficed."

"where's the fun in that?" its a serious question for him, you can tell by the way he patiently waits for your answer

irked, you look up at the ceiling while biting your cheek, trying to gather yourself again before you say, "sober up geto." and turning to walk away.

you made it your mission to stay hidden the entire party, having entered the deal with your best friend that if the night turned sour for you, she would come with her boy whatever to pick you up in his car

after their date.

which wasn't going to end until an hour or two.

the garage had stayed open to the enormous frat house, although there weren't any people in it. people had respected the space, leaving the miscellaneous in it untouched such as the two cars and...suguru's bike.

you eyed it from the rather comfy bean bag in the darkest corner of the garage, feeling a fight or flight instinct at the mere glimpse of it whenever you looked up from your phone.

it had been almost two hours since you last suguru and you were striving to keep the streak going on longer.

"told you I'm going home satoru." a wary and very sobered up voice says when they open the door to the garage, "I drank enough water, I'm sober."

it's suguru.

there is no stagger in his step and his posture is refined as he walks to lean again the trunk of the car furthest from you and closest to his bike. you remain hidden due to the cars covering you from his line of sight as well as the sheer darkness of the corner.

he's wearing a shirt now, another black one, and he rakes his hands across face when he gives a defeated sigh. you hoped he wouldn't notice you.

this was your Friday the 13th movie for sure.

suguru pulls outs his phone from one of the spacious pockets of his fireman pants and he starts to type away immediately. there's a slight buzz from your phone seconds within the action.

suguru

are you still here?

I'm sobered up now.

he shoves his phone back in his pocket after. and you watch as he stays where he is, crossing his arms across his chest while he waits a good five minutes for you to respond, which you don't do. he gets his phone out again after and taps something randomly before he puts his phone up to his ear.

buzz-buzz-buzz-buzz

the strong buzzing of your phone on your thigh make a ricochet that gets's fine tuned ears pick up quickly.

"y/n?" he's shining his phone's flashlight on you, squinting his eyes just a little to try and make you out.

nervous, you mutter, "what."

suguru turns the light off and sighs, walking to your corner, his eyes already getting adjusted to the darkness.

"why didn't you answer me?"

"do you really not know the answer?"

"you're right." he sinks down in front of you, sitting down on the floor and brushing a stressed hand through his hair. his legs are stretched out and basically manspread even though he's not on a chair.

"satoru didn't text you to switch seats with him because he wanted to flirt with mika" he comes forth, both of his hands laying across his knees.

you're confused, "but–"

"it was a wild attempt of his to help me talk to you again." and he laughs, a burst of energy randomly gracing the intense air. suguru raises a hand to rub at the back of his neck while his chest and stomach ricochet and his teeth peek out from his mouth.

"truth is, I really like you." he's still smiling.

the declaration makes you stare blankly at him and a million goosebumps rise across your entire body.

"if you don't feel the same in that regard it's fine of course." he reassures, back to his normal calm self, "I just thought it would help explain my behavior."

"since when?" you peep

"our first class meeting," suguru seems a little bashful at the confession

"I have for a couple of weeks now too." you meekly profess

suguru seems genuinely surprised, his eyes widening, "you have?"

"why do you sound so surprised?" your brows knit.

"it felt like you didn't know I existed until last week." he grins followed by a small huff of humor

"oh...that," you trail off, embarrassed, "I thought pretending you didn't exist was the best way for you to not know I had a thing for you..."

"satoru is far smarter than me in that aspect." he says, "he insisted that you were doing that when I told him."

you giggle a little, "he read me like a book."

suguru hangs his head for a second and groans, still joyful, before he whips his head up and gazes at you, "I apologize for having never gathered the courage to approach you before. I have Satoru to thank for even getting me here with you in the first place."

"it's fine." you shrug, pulling at your own fingers, "we're here now aren't we?"

"we are." he agrees before leaning over. suguru grabs one of your hands and brings it to his lips, placing a soft kiss onto it while his eyes never leave your own.

"want to go back to the party?" you muster past your nerves, focus solely on the warmth of his hand still holding onto yours.

suguru shakes his head lightly, "I'm enjoying it being just the two of us right now. do you want to?"

"no, I like it here too."

theres a moment of silence, where both of you stare at the hands that the both of you have connected until a strong breeze passes and flutters the thin material of your babydoll up and makes you shiver strongly.

"let me." suguru says as he hastily gets up and gets his leather jacket that's hanging from his motorcycle, then brings it back to you, helping you tuck your arms into the sleeves and get comfortable in it.

he's above you when he does it and you can see the small glances he tries to avoid giving your body, especially at the sparkly pink thong peeking through the see through material of your costume. suguru is making sure his jacket is on your properly when you call out to him suddenly.

"suguru."

he doesn't get the chance to respond when he looks back up at you and you pull him in by the material of his shirt to kiss him.

he reciprocates within seconds, after the surprise wears off and places a hand on your thigh, the other next to your head and grabbing at the beanbag. his lips are soft and have no remnants of alcohol on them, a smooth flavor of his skin and flesh meeting your tastebuds when he dips his tongue into your mouth. it elicits a groan from him when you whimper at the contact.

he pushes as much as he can into your space without falling and you follow suit, trying to lift yourself as much as possible off the beanbag to meet him.

a particular whimper has suguru pulling away from you and pulling you up by the arm so he can maneuver you to sit on the trunk of the car next to you. when he plops you down onto it, he slots his torso between your thighs and pulls you for an even deeper kiss. his hands have a strong grip on your thighs as he keeps you against him and you can feel the distinctly large throbbing of something against your panties through his pants.

"are–mmmm–you hard?" you ask through kisses

suguru can't help the grind of his bulge against your core when he answers and keeps kissing you, giving small nips to your lips, "yes."

your eyes are closed into the kiss when your hands navigate to the waistband of his pants, about to reach for–

"not here." suguru mutters and keeps both of your wrists clamped under one of his large hands.

you pull yourself away from his lips and heave, a pout of sexual frustration illustrated on your eyes and lips. "okay."

he raises a hand to caress your cheek as he smiles fondly, "what?"

"nothing."you look away for a quick second, leaning in to kiss him again after.

suguru stops you before you do though, clamping one of his hands against your mouth while the other holds the back of your head.

he's smiling even wider this time, "now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you touch me before I get to touch you?"

you slouch in his hold, too upset by the fact that you couldn't touch him or go back to kissing him to care about his words.

"you know, even satoru couldn't keep his eyes off of you in this little costume of yours." he looks down for a second so you could too, "god knows what toji was thinking. I saw the tent in his pants when you took my spit and booze like a good girl."

suguru sees the way you shift your hips for a smidge of relief at his words. "are you my good girl?" he leans his forehead across yours, hand still on your mouth. you try your best to let out a muffled 'mhm' and incessantly nod your head, eyes pleading and hands gripping onto his shirt.

"are you going to answer the phone when I text you next time?"

you give him the same answer again.

"god." he warily eyes you, gaze wandering towards the outline of your breasts and the rest that wasn't covered by your thong, "you're so beautiful."

the hand at the back of your neck trails down and moves some hair away from your shoulder, then ends up holding you by your lower back as suguru leans down and starts to mouth at your neck. he starts off small with his intentions, simply placing soft and subtle kisses, eliciting a ticklish response from you until his lips become searing and he goes in with the intent of leaving hickeys on you, it makes you squirm and suguru lets you, it's not like you can break away from his touch anyway. you use your legs to keep him caged in and closer to you eventually after the third 'pop' you heard coming from his mouth on your skin, it makes him audibly laugh for a second too.

you tug at the hand on your mouth, expecting for the task to be hard considering his build, but suguru lets his hand fall away easily and hold onto your thigh.

"what are you thinking pretty?" he asks mindlessly before going for the opposite side of your neck

"mmmm–about how good–mm–this feels."

"yeah?"

"mhm"

"tell me what you want to do. do you want me to drop you off at your place after this?" he blows on your most recent hickey and smirks when he sees you jump a little, "do you want me to get you food?"

"I want–ah!" suguru bites into your neck fairly hard, enough to make you moan and yelp at the same time, "I want to spend the rest of the night with you at my place. can we watch a scary movie?" the suggestion is simple and it isn't to hook up with him, although that's what you want more than ever now, but you don't want him to think you're that desperate so its what you settle for.

"couldn't imagine a better halloween than that." he smiles

you're under suguru, on your bed later that night, the movie you had been watching was long forgotten and the t.v. was turned off the second things started to get out of hand. it wasn't his fault no, suguru's a gentleman and when you said you just wanted to watch a movie, he was just going to watch the movie with you. you were the instigator. after you had been cuddled into his arms, near his neck, you decided to place a few loving kisses...that eventually turned into what this was with suguru getting up to take off and throw away his shirt while you hastily yanked off the long gloves of your costume.

he was needy, grinding his hips into yours the moment he came back down to kiss you.

"you have no idea how fucking bad I've been wanting you." he mutters, hissing when a particular rub pleases him the right way

it makes your back arch, "I think I do suguru."

"really?" he groans into your mouth, "you touch yourself to me like I do for you?"

"yeah." you sigh, clinging onto him even more, splaying your hand across the soft skin of his back.

"move your panties to the side."

when he feels your hand move down and follow his directions, suguru moves his down too and slides a finger across your soaked folds.

"fuck, this pussy is so wet for me. were you even trying to pay attention to the movie?"

"yes, I was." you complain, and whimper when he starts rubbing circles across your lower lips, gathering your slick for added stimulation after every rub.

he separates himself from kissing you to look down at his ministrations, mouth opening in a soundless moan at the sight.

"listen to this sloppy fucking pussy." he rubs faster and you start to jerk your hips up by natural defiance at the stimulation, but he holds you down "no, let me touch you baby." he says sternly

your breathing starts to pick up and you feel that familiar knot that only you can give yourself starting to build up in your stomach and suguru notices, looking up to smile at you.

"are you close angel?"

concentrated on the feeling, all you can do is nod your head and he speeds up his pace at it, garnering close to wanton moans from you and screech like whines.

"come on come on, cum for me pretty girl, cum cum cum cum–fuck, atta girl." suguru talks you through it, mouth opening in awe at the sight of your body going limp and your breathing slowing down, his cock even twitches at how cute it is that your legs kick a little when you cum too, he thinks he'll be able to keep them still when he gets make you cum on his cock.

you start to hiss at the overstimulation when he keeps rubbing your clit after your high, "'s too much suguru."

he doesn't stop, "you want to stop now then?"

the shake of your head makes his eyes light up and bite his lip with a grin, "then just let me keep going."

it takes all of your strength to lean up with one of your elbows and grab his wrist with the other, obvious strain written across your features when you huff, "I want you inside me."

like he knew that was what you wanted, suguru's grin grows wider, "are you sure?"

you nod your head in confirmation, followed by suguru saying, "so cute." before he gets up and pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion and climbs on top of you, manhandling your legs by pinning them to either side of your head into a mating press.

he lets his cock teasingly rub up and down your folds while he leans down to nip at your ears, "let's leave your little costume on yeah?"

you nod and make a face when his tip catches on your entrance

suguru lifts his hips at your confirmation and pushes his tip in, savoring the way you're beginning to invite him inside you.

" 's so big sugu." you whimper in shock at the larger than expected intrusion

"never taken a cock this big?" he pulls out and pushes in again a little deeper

"no." you rake your hands down his arms

suguru laughs, "good thing I'm here to provide then right? see, look at you creaming around me already."

the words make you look down at where you both meet and when he pulls out again, you can see the ring and slick on his dick, it makes you shiver.

"I'll–make–this–little-fucking–pussy-take–me." he punctuates each and every one of his words with a thrust that pushes himself deeper and deeper inside you until you can fully feel his tip grazing your cervix and every vein on his dick ridging against your walls from how girthy he is.

every sound that comes out of your mouth after is incoherent when suguru starts to punishingly pummel into you and god does he keep talking to you.

"you look so pretty taking this dick baby. god, you sound even cuter than I imagined. you like getting stretched out like this? fuck, take it take it take it. wish I could make you sit on it, you'd look so cute trying to ride me."

it's all so much, especially when every thrust is accompanied by a moan or groan of his or with a sentence.

"couldn't fucking wait to get home after the party last week too. wanted to rip off that costume and fuck you till you couldn't even scream. and when you wear those skirts with pantyhose to class?" suguru groans, "all–I–can–think–about–is–bending–you–over–and–stuffing–this–pussy–with–my–cum."

"suguru!" you squeal, "im–I'm gonna cum!"

suguru tightens his hold on your thighs at the admission and starts jackhammering into you, "cum around me baby. let me fuck you through it." it almost sounds like he's starting to beg, "just cum for me, cum for me, cum–"

a silent scream leaves your mouth and you trash in suguru's hold while he keeps his furious pace.

"so pretty, angel." his eyebrows knit as he watches you orgasm and feels you clamp down on him. it has his peak lurching across his body and his thrusts grow erratic as he starts spurting his cum into you.

he leans down to kiss you as his cock twitches inside of you, leaking his cum into you each time.

at the end of the kiss, the both of you are heaving against each other, smiles on both of your faces until you erupt into laughter and giggles.

suguru is still inside you and places a loving kiss on your forehead, swiping away your sweaty baby hair, "you're cute when you cum. you kick your legs a little, I like it."

the confession has you trying to shy away and suguru laughs again, caressing your head, "why are you shying away? you wore this costume for everyone to see just a couple hours ago."

"well this is you telling me you think the way I cum is cute, its quite different than guys looking at my thong." you shakily grab onto his shoulders

"I suppose so." suguru nuzzles into your neck, "do you have a bath?"

"yeah."

"let me start one for us then." he pulls out and both of you look down at your lonely entrance until his cum starts to leak out. suguru seems entranced and you can see his cheeks start to gain a red hue accompanied by the blood starting to rush to his cock too.

suguru looks back at you the moment you do too. you reach a hand out to him and he crawls back on top of you.

"we can do that later right?"

"right."

[nezuscribe]

𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you find yourself in a marriage that you never wanted in the first place. your husband seems to hate you and you begin to wonder if anything you used to think of him was even true. who would have though a marriage to gojo satoru would be so difficult?

warnings: 18+ mdni, arranged marriage, misunderstandings and just not talking shit out, mentions of cheating, slight angst (with comfort), eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, gojo doesn't really know how to husband for some of it

word count: 10.9K (whoops)

note: part two is up! i really had a lot of fun writing this so reblogs and comments are always appreciated! as always, thank you to @jadeisthirsting for beta reading <3

jjk masterlist

never did you think that you’d be stuck in a marriage to a man who didn’t love you, but there’s a first for everything. 

you should count yourself lucky that he’s not old and bald. he’s pretty. in fact, he’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. his eyes are the bluest, bluer than the sky. his hair mirrors the winter snows, and his back ripples with muscles whenever he fights. 

his agility is unlike any other man. he fights swiftly and cleanly, never taking more than a couple minutes to get rid of whatever it was that stood in his way. he’s charming with his words (or so you’ve heard), and he knows how to make somebody swoon if he really wants them to. 

and he seems to despise you.

you had known gojo since you were a child, the two of you running around each other's fields as you chased him with your wooden sword. you remembered watching him in training, wishing him good luck whenever he went on a hunt. you could even remember how he would stutter whenever he tried to talk, something he must have worked on because he never seemed to stutter anymore. 

he was always nice to you, his cheeks rosy whenever you kissed him goodbye. he was kind back then, grinning brightly whenever he saw you. 

but as time grew and you with it, and it was only a matter of years before the two of you went your separate ways. it didn’t help that once he turned thirteen he had to leave for training and fighting in whatever it was that was needed of him, but you had hoped that he would be able to write back. 

you would send him letters whenever you could, it was tradition whenever the two of you were separated for too long to do so. each letter telling him about new experiences and embarrassing things that happened in your life, but he never responded. you liked to send one every week, sometimes including little tokens you thought he might enjoy. but you stopped sending them after the first two years and stopped asking about his whereabouts after three. 

but you were hopeful that when you saw him that night so many months ago, he’d be civil with you. you were nervous, sure, but who could blame you? you had recently gotten news that his time to serve his clan was over and that he was finally back home. it wasn’t as though the two of you had left on bad graces, so you were hopeful that he would at least remember you. but he could barely meet your eyes whenever you tried to catch him from across the room, acting as if you had never existed. 

he looked so different since the last time you had seen him. he was taller than most of the people in the room, his white hair just as bright as it used to be. he had gained muscle mass almost everywhere, and you felt yourself wondering just how much training he had to go through to look this way. you could see him talking to a girl, a smile on his face as he tilted his head to look at her better. you gave him some time to socialize, not wanting to intrude on anything. 

after an hour you decided that it was long enough, and tried to weave your way through the crowd to get to him. you had tried to call out to him, waving to him despite your mother quickly shoving your hand down, saying how improper it was. he heard you and you knew that he was purposely ignoring you, so you began to feel heavy-hearted after a couple of attempts at trying to catch his attention, eventually giving up. 

and now, despite you wanting to, you can’t even blame him for hating you. 

ever since your mother caught you, alone with him, a man you hadn’t seen in so long, she had swiftly and promptly proposed the idea of marriage only a few days later. it was really to save face for the two families, but it helped that this marriage would unify the two clans. 

you were sure he had ladies lined up to marry him, and you weren’t somebody he was actively trying to pursue. you didn’t even know if he was in love with somebody else if he shared a connection with a girl who was surely not you and cursed you for taking that away from him. 

not that it mattered now. 

all you wanted was to reconcile, to catch up on all the things happening in your lives. you wanted to hear all the stories he must have racked up over the years, not for this to happen. all the things he wanted for himself were ripped away because of one night from one simple act of kindness, and so you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him for the way he acted.

you rarely come down for dinner whenever he’s there, but when you do, you feel those eyes turn icy, tracking your every movement till you sit down opposite of him. he doesn’t say much, just mutters a quiet “good evening” and you’re sure he’s only doing it so the maids don’t start to gossip. 

whenever your hand brushes his you feel him snap back, flexing his hand as though your touch burned him. he rarely came by to ask you about how you felt, and so you stopped trying to act kindly towards him if he didn’t want anything to do with it.

any semblance of romance you had dreamed of as a young girl quickly dissipated when you realized your husband wanted nothing to do with you, so you didn’t try to pursue any sort of love, deciding it’d be easier if he just did his part and you did yours so the two clans wouldn’t worry. 

he was always gone, which might be the best for the two of you. when he’s not training new men then he’s gone in a hunt. if he’s not in a hunt then he’s somewhere in his endless home, hiding away. 

you don’t know if he does this for him, for your sake, or for everybody else. 

“did you see your husband this morning?” one of your maids said excitedly as she tugged the undergarments over your raised arm, a gleeful smile on her face as she rambled about something gojo had done. you couldn’t help but return a smile of your own, although it didn’t quite meet your eyes. 

“yes, briefly. he’s busy with having to worry about the feast,” which wasn’t a total lie. you’d seen him hurriedly brush past you, quickly glancing at you as if he had forgotten you were his wife. you felt your chest tighten up with the way he glanced at your hand, and then quickly left. 

it was only a few nights away and you knew that it was the only buzz of news anybody seemed to talk about. unfortunately, for you, it meant having to socialize with other clans. you were fine with that aspect, you’d been doing it since you were young, but this time they had a right to be nosey. you knew there would be endless questions asked about the honeymoon stage of your marriage, to which you had no answer. 

sure, you’d been making up answers to hypothetical questions, but you didn’t know what gojo would be answering with, so you were only praying some of your responses would line up. 

for a night the two of you would have to pretend to be husband and wife, and while the people around you knew you were anything, you knew you had to commit to the role for the sake of you and your family’s dignity. 

but all this worrying isn’t good for your head, you could already feel the pang as you squeezed your eyes to try and get rid of it. you tried to move on from your worries, going to comment on her necklace, it seemed new, but a knock interrupted you. the two of your heads popped up, looking at where the sound came from. 

“come in!” you called out, buttoning up the last bits of your top as you thanked myra. she nodded, bowing as she went to open the door. you could hear her faint footsteps, not bothering to look up as she greeted the person behind. you guessed it was franchesca coming with the fabric samples. 

“sir,” you heard myra say, and your head swirled around, only to see the topic of your conversation make his way into your room, excusing your maid with a swift motion of his hand. she glanced once at you and then to him, ducking her head as she left, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone. 

you felt heat prickle at the back of your neck as he looked at you and then to your room. the two of you slept separately, as per your request the first night. you couldn’t bear the agonizing silence between the two of you, and he obliged. 

he was dressed for sparring. he had a loose-fitting tunic on, and pants that would allow him to move freely and without constraint. it was in moments like these that you were reminded of the fact that gojo was the strongest warrior that any of the clans had seen, that the child who once splurged on sugar in his tea was capable (and has done so before) of taking down entire armies. 

he had matured so much since what you last remembered from him. he no longer acted rashly nor spoke without thinking about what it was he wanted to say. but you still saw him eating sweets with the same fervor he did as a kid, and it never failed to make you smile, hiding it behind your hand so nobody could hear your quiet giggle. 

it had been a while since it was just the two of you, alone, and all you could think about was that night. your cheeks heated up just thinking about it, and it seemed that gojo could tell your discomfort with the way he cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he began to speak. 

“good morning,” he started, his eyes darting around, never setting on yours. it was funny if it didn’t cause your heart to hurt irrevocably, at how the strongest warrior in all the land could barely look at his wife. 

if only you knew.

“good morning.” you offered him a quick, disingenuous smile, moving around until you found your vanity, rummaging through your laid-out earrings as you kept your back to him, not trusting your face to give you away if you were to look at him for too long. 

you heard him take in an audible breath, but he continued whatever it was he wanted to say. 

“with the feast coming up, i want to clear some things with you,” you turned around, looping the earrings in as you nodded for him to continue. it was such a shame he was so stunning, effortlessly attractive as the sun caught off his cheekbones, bouncing off of his chest. he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, and you wondered if being here was just as painfully awkward for him as it was for you. 

“we should act like we’re…” he trailed off and you felt yourself itching to leave, knowing what he meant without having to say it. 

“in love?” you finished and he slowly nodded, gnawing on his lip as you brushed past him, going to find the mirror so you could adjust your jewelry. you could see him fidgeting in the corner, and for once you could see a hint of nervousness and unease on his features. 

and a part of you hurt. you would never admit out loud that you harbored a crush on him for as long as you could remember. it hurt knowing that you acting like you were in love was perhaps the lost genuine form of love you could show. 

“what if they ask about the night we met?” you ask after a couple of seconds, looking up from what you were doing. deep down, you knew somebody was bound to ask. even if it was just your mother who had caught the two of you alone in that garden, the news of it somehow spread (she was always one to talk). 

he scratches his head, shrugging as he eventually settles on an idea.

“just tell them the truth.” 

the truth. 

tell them how he followed you after you had run outside, sick to your stomach after a man, who was as old as your father, had introduced himself as a possible suitor. how gojo, the most ruthless warrior in all the land, had carefully put his hands on your back as you retched, offering you a towel he had fetched from inside to clean yourself up. 

tell them how you hadn’t seen him in years but the first thing you had done was to hug him tightly. how his hands wrapped around your back as though they were the only things keeping you afloat. perhaps they were. 

tell them how he murmured words in your hair to bring you back to reality, his thumb running up and down your arms to calm you down. how it seemed like even though it had been years since you two last saw each other, it felt so right, so normal, to be back in his arms. 

tell them how he had looked at you with such worry, such care, unlike anybody else had looked at you, and you for once felt safe in somebody’s arms. 

tell them how your mother found you two in such a compromising position, with your head nestled in his chest as he tried his very best to soothe your cries. it was humiliating and embarrassing to be caught with a man you had only seen back in your teenage years, and especially so in such a vulnerable position. 

you shake your head, scoffing at the idea, “i’ll just come up with something,” was your answer and he nods along, realizing how the story would be too private to share with people you barely knew.

“and we need a reason for why,” he cleared his throat once again, pink dusting on his cheeks as his eyes dropped to your stomach. your eyes met his in the mirror, and one of your eyebrows raised, “well, you’re not exactly looking like you’re carrying a child at the moment.” 

you quickly looked away, the tension in the room increasing as you moved away from the mirror, doing anything you could to keep your hands occupied. you flushed at the comment, your throat drying up as you glanced at your stomach.

the two of you have barely touched, much less been intimate with each other. you were glad he hadn’t forced the idea onto you, instead, leaving it to you to bring up the topic. you only talked about it, once, the night of the marriage, and then never again. you knew that it would have to happen eventually, but you couldn’t do it right now, not with your state of mind. 

you scrambled to say something. in all honesty, you had been dreading this question. you hadn’t been answering any of the letters your mother sent, and you knew people were expecting to hear the news of a pregnancy. 

“we’ll just say we’ve been so busy and preoccupied with the politics of marriage that we couldn’t… consummate.” you offered and he just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this was the biggest inconvenience to him. 

you knew that this marriage was brought upon quickly and before either of you could object to it, but at least you tried to hide it away. if only he hadn’t acted so rashly that night, his hands on your shoulders, eyes bewildered as they racked over your figure. if only he had been more careful, or you were smarter in picking some place to be more concealed, you wouldn’t be put in this position. 

but neither of you was thinking ahead, and here you were. but he was certainly making sure that you knew of his contempt for this arrangement far more than you were. it was irritating, it scratched at your skin and ate away at your mind the more you saw each other.

“look,” he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, off of the way you were fiddling with the ring he had delicately placed on your hand so many weeks ago, “i can come up with whatever they ask, so just try your best to do the same.” you say, your voice tinged with anger, the ring on your finger acting as an anchor to the depths of the sea with the way it weighed down your movements, feeling your chest swell as he stayed silent, watching you as you opened the door. 

“i don’t-”

“um, i won’t be joining you for dinner, so don’t wait on me…i apologize, i need to work on some things for the feast…have a good day.” you swiftly murmured, shutting him in your own room as you left, your heart thumping erratically in your chest as you almost ran down the hallway. 

you had no idea how you were going to persuade the masses that this marriage was working if you couldn’t even persuade yourself. 

---

the feast of clans came earlier than you expected. 

you found yourself perched at the end of the table, gojo next to you, your stiff bodies mirroring each other as the people around you joyously helped themselves to the vast variety of food offered. 

you could barely touch the meal in front of you, your stomach churning uncomfortably with the sheer number of people that surrounded you. back home, you hated these feasts, opting to leave after a couple of bites and finish the rest of what you could pocket in your room, but here, as the clan leader's wife, you had no such luxury. 

“are you not hungry?” you looked to your side, gojo staring at your plate and then to you, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher what you were feeling.

“i can’t eat,” you murmured, playing with your utensils as you swallowed thickly, “i don’t do well in large crowds.” 

he nodded once, looking out into the sea of bodies as he inched a little bit closer to you. he was donned in expensive fabrics, although his hair still messily fell all over. the candle that was lit in front of you had different hues of oranges and reds bouncing off of his pale skin, and if you didn’t know any better, the blush on his nose and cheeks could have been from the frigid winds from outside. 

“i’ll have myra save you a plate,” he said, giving you a curt smile as he went back to eating. 

you were momentarily taken aback by his comment, but tried not to show it, going back to fidgeting with your ring as you looked at the sea of people. nobody had thankfully come up to you and bombarded you with questions, but that didn’t mean that it wasn’t going to eventually happen. 

“thank you,” you say, glancing at him and then back to your plate. 

“anything for my wife,” he replies. it’s only for show, you remind yourself, after all, when was the last time he referred to you as such? 

“gojo,” an old man had walked up to your table, his face lined with wrinkles and a beard, dressed in orange as he offered gojo his hand to shake, “i’m glad to see that you finally settled down.”

gojo blushed deeply, trying to offer him a smile as he motioned to you. 

“it’s hard to resist marriage when such a woman offers it.” he says, and you feel your eyes widen as you try to laugh off his statement. 

“yes,” the old man chuckles, eyeing the two of you. he looked familiar, and you were sure you had seen him around these sorts of gatherings before, “it was only a matter of time before it happened. we all knew just how much you liked her back when you were children.”

the two of you sputtered on your coughs, and you felt a little smile grow on your face as gojo did what he could to usher the man away. 

you could tell with the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat that gojo wasn’t expecting that, and before you could realize what you were doing you found yourself talking. 

“i’m not a fan of feasts.” you quickly said, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you could stop them. it’s not like you felt you owed him an explanation, but you said it regardless. 

gojo looked up from his plate, grabbing his cup so he could wash down his bite. 

“any feast?” he asked, and you could feel the way the air shifted. he was glad you brought up a different topic. 

“one’s as big as this,” you twisted your ring back and forth on your finger subconsciously, “i get nervous in big crowds.”

“i remember,” a small smile grew on his face as he thought back to when the two of you were children, “you would hide under the tables and force me to come with you.” 

you chuckled, blood rushing to your ears at the fact that he remembered this about you. it was the bare minimum of what you remembered from him, but you had convinced yourself that he had washed every memory of your last selves from his mind. 

a rush of distant memories came to your head; nights spent under the tables, laughing as you two tried to keep your voices down as you tried to dodge the feet. you could still hear his whispers of staying quiet, trying to sneak out so he could smuggle in some pastries for you to eat.

“the adults scared me; they were always loud and insistent on asking personal questions.”

“like they are now?” he replied back, a tilt in his voice as you nodded feverishly. 

“yes!” you covered your mouth with your hand as you let out a laugh, a genuine one as you tried to look as put together as you could, “i swear, it’s even worse than when we were young. just the other day a wet nurse came to me and told me the best positions to get into when giving birth!” it really was a mortifying moment, your eyes darting all around as the old lady even took it upon herself to demonstrate the movements, but gojo didn’t seem to mind, laughing along with you. his eyes twinkled as they took in your giggly state, years since he had last seen you like this. 

“i feel like i should apologize,” he starts, having to cover his own infectious smile as he ducks down his head in shame, “i had her sent up to your chambers.”

your mouth dropped open in shock, lightly smacking his arm as he grinned at the look on your face.

“to mortify me so that i would never leave?” your thumb moves your ring back and forth and gojo watches you as you do it. 

“you seemed sick at breakfast, but i guess she thought it was a different sort of sickness.” gojo tells you as he cuts off some of his meat, not knowing just how much his words affected you. 

you had forgotten how simple and easy conversations were with gojo. although this was under a guise to fool people, you felt at ease with him, as if you didn’t have to be on guard with your emotions when he was around. 

“do you still want to hide under the table now?” he asked a couple of seconds later, chewing on a potato as you shrugged, looking around before your lips grew into an apologetic smile. 

“…yes,” you admitted bashfully and he smiled at your honest response. 

“if you want to hide, i’ll-”

“satoru!” a booming voice interrupted your endless spiral of thoughts as the two of you glanced upwards at the sound, “it’s been too long!” 

a man with hair as dark as night and a smile wider than any ocean had come up to your table. he was the first one to do so all night, but gojo didn’t seem bothered by it. he seemed to smile, crescents forming around his eyes as he took his friend's hand.

“too long,” he emphasized with a charming grin, motioning to you and then back to the man in front of you as if he suddenly remembered the two of you and never met, “suguru, this is my wife, y/n. y/n, this is one of my oldest friends.” 

you extended your hand outwards and the man, suguru, took it, placing a soft kiss on the back of it as he shot you a playful smile. he wasn’t at the wedding, but then yet again, it was a rather quick one. the only people who had attended were your families. 

“it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he greeted, and you nodded in agreement, sitting back down next to gojo. you felt his long fingers reach for yours, enveloping your hand in his as your heart sputtered at the touch. 

“likewise,” you answered and the man grinned politely before he slightly tilted his head, looking at the two of you sitting next to each other. 

“he’s not bothering you, is he? i know satoru can be fiendish when he wants to be, so call for me and i’ll take care of him.” he teased and you could only smile tightly and laugh along, gojo’s fingers slightly tightening around yours as he moved your hand to rest on his thigh. 

“i can take care of him when he’s fiendish. i just have to take the sugar away, right?” suguru snorted and gojo glared, but it was playful the way he looked at you. 

his hands were warmer than you would have expected. you could feel the indents of calluses on his fingertips, could feel his thumb moving back and forth on your skin in a calming sort of manner. he didn’t look over at you as he did it, playing it off as second nature. 

“i apologize for not having much time to get to know you, but i have something i need to talk to gojo about. would you mind? it will only take a minute?” he asked, and gojo let go of your hand at the time of his friend's voice. you had to control your urge to roll your eyes, shifting in your seat as you motioned for suguru to talk to your husband, watching as he stood from his seat, leaving with the man as they went somewhere a little more secluded. 

you watched as gojo leaned down to hear whatever it was that suguru was whispering in his ear, pulling back with a frown on his face. he snapped something that only caused suguru to reel back, cast a quick glance at you, and then shake his head in clear annoyance. 

you saw gojo look up, his eyes landing on somebody from across the room, and you followed his stare, only to land on a girl. 

she wore a dark yellow tunic and skirt, colors from a neighboring clan. you hadn’t seen her before, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t known. just one look at the men surrounding her and you could pick up on their lovesick expressions. 

she motioned for gojo to come to her with a bend of her finger, slyly brushing her hair out of her face to make it look as though it was nothing, exiting from the dining area and vanishing into one of the halls. 

you looked down in case either of the men glanced over to see if you were staring. your eyes pierced through the meat on your plate, bile rising up your throat. 

you gave yourself some time, counting up to a minute before you looked back to where suguru and gojo were, finding suguru standing alone. you looked at where the girl was and saw a flash of white hair before it disappeared, your heart sinking as you glanced back at suguru, only to find him looking at you. 

you looked back at your plate, picking up a knife and fork as you stabbed the meat. you couldn’t keep anything down but it’s best to pretend.

---

gojo didn’t return until half an hour later, and you refused to talk to him. 

“did anybody bombast you with questions?” he teased, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. he didn’t seem to pick up on your darkened mood as your fingers dug into your dress. 

“i had a woman ask me if you had disappeared with your mistress, but that was it.” you remarked, silence filling the void between the two of you and you realized that all you had thought of him was crumbling down. 

you didn’t care for your image anymore, giving curt answers to any questions somebody had asked. you could feel his stare on the side of your face but you didn’t humor him in looking over, focusing on your plate instead. 

so what if he was seeing somebody else? you would have been naive to think that he wouldn’t wander. the two of you barely touched each other. 

once all the guests had left over the course of the following days, you did everything you could to steer away from gojo. 

you no longer came down for breakfast or dinner, choosing to eat in your own quarters. if he wanted to have his own secrets, he could do whatever he pleased. 

though you rarely saw suguru after the feast, he did try to talk to you the morning after it took place. he cornered you after you had left from breakfast, his once playful demeanor turned serious as you tried your best to end the conversation. 

“what you saw last night-”

“is none of my business,” you finished, raising your hand as you cut him off, “if gojo has his own private matters to deal with, i’m indifferent to them all.” 

“you know that’s not what it was.” his hand hovered over your arm, careful not to touch you but not wanting you to leave either. 

“i ruined his life, didn’t i?” you tilted your head a bit in questioning. after all, that’s all you could hear from the women who gossiped as they folded the laundry, or behind the hands of the girls who watched you and gojo interact and the mothers who wanted their daughters to be set up with him only sneered at you from across the tables. 

“you…where’d you get that from?” his brows scrunched together in confusion as you scoffed, hoping he couldn’t see the tears welling in the corner of your eyes at the sting of your own words. 

“i can see it on his face. if gojo wants to have his own affairs, he can have them. it’s not like we’re in love. hopefully, i find my own way out so that the two of us look happier and this marriage looks somewhat presentable to the public.” 

you didn’t want to see the look on his face, but you’re sure he reported this all back to gojo because he didn’t look at you once after it. 

you heard from a maid a week later that he was gone for another meeting with a clan, a southern one from what you picked up, and that you should probably go and wish him some luck. 

leading up to the night of his departure you anxiously paced around your room, your feet padding on the floor as your nightgown swished behind you. 

you hadn’t talked to gojo at all that day, and purposefully so. 

it was petty, you know it was, to not want to see him, but a part of you still aches when you look back on that night. at how he didn’t explain where he was even after you asked, at how it was suguru he had sent to fix his dirty work for him. 

“y/n?” a muffled voice came from outside your door. 

your head shot up at the familiar sound, quietly dragging yourself out from your bed as you grabbed the candle, hovering on the other side as you waited for him to say something else. 

“are you awake?” you heard a soft thud from his side, almost as if his head or arm had hit the door. 

you didn’t answer, still, waiting. 

“i’m leaving tomorrow and i wanted to see you before i left.” your heart skipped at his words, careful not to make a sound as you near the door. 

“if you’re sleeping i won’t bother you anymore but if you’re not,” you could hear the old stutter he had coming back, his words meshing together as he tried to regain control, “and you’re choosing to stay quiet, i…” he sighed, his forehead thumping down as he rested it on the door, “i wanted to apologize for the feast. i shouldn’t have left you alone, and if you’d open the door, i would explain why…” he could see the flicker of the candle from underneath the crack, and saw the way it blew away, darkness following suit. 

you walked back to your bed, turning your back to the door as you set the candle down on your table. 

“goodnight,” his voice was quieter than before, and you felt guilty, but pushed the bitter feeling down.

a couple of seconds later you heard him let out a sigh of defeat, his footsteps leading away from your bedroom as you curled into yourself, hoping you would let your heart stop taking control of what your head should be doing. 

---

gojo didn’t return for a while, and you grew more impatient by the day. 

it normally took him and his men a week at maximum, and once two had passed, you felt yourself growing uneasy. 

you tried to act as passive as you could, but even myra could pick up on your growing apprehension. you have never voiced your worries over your husband before, but she knew this wasn’t like any other time. 

when you went to bed, the only thing you could dream about was that night, your brain re-running the images as you tossed and turned. 

“are you alright?” he asked, his hands on your elbows as you could barely speak, your blurry vision impairing your sight. you could only see a mop of white in the darkness, your stomach betraying you as you tried to keep the sick down. 

“i don’t feel too good,” you mumbled, trying to put some distance between the two of you as you pushed him away, only to feel him coming closer as he placed a hand on your forehead and then to your cheeks. 

“you’re burning up,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you gently so that you wouldn’t trip over your feet. 

“i’m sorry, you can go back inside, i don’t want to keep you out here.” you were slurring your words as you tried not to throw up on him. you wiped at your eyes so that you could see him better, only to reel back in utter shock to see the face of your childhood friend frowning down at you. 

your mouth formed in the shape of his name, going to say something else, before you hunched over, feeling his strong hands pat your back and keep the hair out of your face as you felt your world tilt on its axis. 

you ate your dinner at the table, eyeing his empty seat as you tried to shove his last night out of your mind. you shouldn’t feel this way, especially about a man who feels nothing towards you, but your little heart was churning in its confines the more you let yourself think about it.

sitting in the same spot where the feast took place only brought back the venomous taste in your mouth, and so you pretended that you were back home, eating somewhere without the worry of your life weighing you down like a thousand weights on your shoulders. 

myra tried her best to distract you, but she could see the distant look in your eyes, how your voice never seemed too genuine. she began to worry for you, but it seemed like your mind was fixed on one thing. 

until you found yourself pacing around your room, just like you were the night you last heard of him, playing with the ring on your finger as the moon carded through your window. 

“my lady,” you heard myra through the door, her voice shaky and a bit more on edge than usual, “there’s-” but before she could finish it slammed open, revealing the man you’d been biting your nails over, standing in the flesh.

his eyes were a dark blue, squinted as they looked right through you. his chest heaved as he looked like he was trying to catch his breath. you could see the streaks of blood that lined his usually clean clothes, the red that stained his cheeks and jaw. 

he looked feral, and it was throwing you off balance. 

“out.” he snapped at myra, and before you could scold him for his tone she fled, the door shutting roughly behind her. 

the two of you could only stare at each other. you didn’t know what to think after weeks of uselessly worrying over him, not knowing about his well-being, to see him here, in front of you, but looking different than he ever had. 

“are you alright?” 

you could barely get it out, the works sticking on your tongue as you took a tentative step forward, not knowing what to do with his state of being. 

he eyed the blood on his shirt, wiping at his cheeks as if he had forgotten it was there. he didn’t look too dirty, less dirty than one would expect from a five week endeavor through the woods, but he didn’t look too good either. 

“you were awake.” is all he says, his chest still moving up and down as though he couldn’t breathe properly. 

“that night i came by, you were awake. i saw your candle, i heard your footsteps.” he says this as though it’s fighting its way out of his mouth as if it’s all he could think about to tell you. 

“i,” you pretend that you don’t care, shrugging, “i wasn’t up to talk.” 

“you were with suguru.” he snaps, his tone shocking you, and he steps back as if he had shocked himself. he jammed his palms into his eyes, tilting his head upwards before he looked back at you. 

“for five weeks you were all i could think about. i wanted to come back, i wanted to tell you what i felt but we kept running into issues with other tribes and clans.” 

“what could you possibly think about that occupied your mind for five weeks?” you so desperately wanted your voice to come out strong but it sounded weak, as though you were hanging off of his every syllable. 

“you had told suguru that you were going to find your…own way out,” he took a step forward, and here you could see the scratches on his chest, the cuts on his arms, “i was praying to every god there was that you hadn’t found somebody in these past weeks, that you hadn’t…”

you could barely believe his words, not knowing if you should feel offended, shocked, worried, or a mix of all those three. 

“what business would it be to you if i did?” you hate that this was the response you settled on. hurt flashed across his face but he tried to regain his composure. 

“you are my wife-”

“and you are my husband!” you snapped and watched as he was momentarily taken aback by your outburst, but you continued your nose flaring, “you cannot argue with me on this when you left with some girl in the middle of our feast!” you felt all your emotions finally pouring out and you had no control over them, “everybody was talking about it, everybody was looking at me in pity!” your voice cracked, tears poking at your eyes as you pointed an accusatory finger at him. 

gojo looked down, running a hand through his hair as he pointed a finger back. 

“if you had let me explain myself, you would have known that she was trying to do what you thought she was. i left as quickly as i could but you would barely look at me!” you wanted to rip your hair out, cursing yourself for ever feeling any sort of worry for this man. 

“i know that this marriage was the last thing you wanted but at least you could play the part of a husband! you didn’t send a single note, anything to tell us that you were okay, that you were alive!” you heaved, fidgeting with your ring as you wiped at your cheeks, “and you come back here accusing me of adultery? all everybody could talk about was the fact that you were warming somebody else’s bed! they said a meeting never takes this long unless something…somebody else comes up.” your voice wobbles at the end, and you find yourself furiously rubbing your tears away, hiding your sniffing as though that would do anything.  

he paused upon seeing you cry, his face falling as he tried to step forward but you angled yourself away from him, hoping he’d get the hint. 

he wanted to hold you, to tell you that all the rumors you were hearing were false and that the only room he had left in his heart was for you. but he couldn’t blame you for feeling or thinking this way. hell, he was so sure that he’d open the door to find another man comforting you that he didn’t even stop to consider what must have been going through your head all these weeks. 

“one of the clans tried to attack us, and we weren’t ready for it. that is why we took so long.” 

you sniffle again, not caring for his explanation although it did soothe a part of your past self. 

“you could have at least sent a letter telling me what happened,” you fidget with your ring, your thumb running over the diamond, “everybody asked me questions that i should have had answers to, but i had no idea where you were or what you were doing…” he nods, his lips pressed into a thin line as he agreed with you. 

“you're right,” his voice was thick with emotion, the words slurring in his mouth as he found himself anchored in place, not knowing what to do. but you were rambling, your thoughts going on and on and you couldn’t stop yourself. 

“…but i know you don’t like letters, so the least you could have done was send a parchment saying i’m alive or something like that.” you rub at your nose again, feeling like all the weeks of worry we’re coming to a standpoint. 

he looked confused now, if anything, and scratched at his jaw. 

“what do you mean?” 

you scoff at the audacity, rolling your eyes as you feel anger prickle at your skin. 

“you never once responded to any of my letters. in my eyes, that must mean you have some sort-”

“letters? what letters?” 

you glance at him, taking in his shaking form. 

“come on gojo,” you feel embarrassed as he urges you to speak, having to spell it out for him, his eyes pleading with you to continue, “the ones from when you left for training.”

his mouth opens and then closes, looks at the ground and then back up to you as he shakes his head. you could hear your fireplace crackling in the background. the only sounds circling the room were the pops of ember and your breathing. 

“i…” he feels like there’s cotton in his mouth, hoping that you’re lying, “i never got any letters.” 

the fire crackled once again and you could almost hear a pin drop as you shook your head vehemently at his statement. 

“n-no, no you did. i wrote to you every week, i sent one every week for two years and you never responded and my mother said that you must have forgotten about me…” and you trail off, the tears in your eyes stoning as he furiously wipes at his own eyes, and for the first time since you had seen him fall down when he was a kid, you saw his own tears staining his cheeks. 

“nobody gave me your letters. i thought that you,” he takes a deep breath, tongue poking inside his cheek as he tried to control himself, “i thought that you didn’t care for me anymore.” 

you hug your midsection, your emotions running wild at his words. 

“i was under the impression that you hated me.” you admit, and he looks as though you stabbed him through the heart. if only others could see the powerful warrior now, stripped bare to his conscience and all he could think about was you. 

“why…why would you think such a thing?” you two inch closer without knowing it, longing to touch each other, wanting to know that the other was really there and that this wasn’t a figment of your imaginations. 

“gojo, you could barely looked at me that night at the gala and now it seems as though you, well, look at you - you’re flushed!” you’re grasping at straws, motioning towards his face,  twinged with pink as you rub at your nose, “you seem angry whenever i am near-” 

“the only person i am angry at is myself.” gojo whispers, but his voice echoed around the expanse of your skull. 

“yes, i’m aware,” you feel cold despite the fire in the corner, your tone carrying an air of know as you scorn, “i know the last thing you expected by comforting me was a marriage but-” 

“you think i am angry because i married you?” he was moving closer, his hands shaking, his eyes wet. you could see the ring on his finger glow in the dim light of the fireplace, how it shined brighter than any of the night skies, “the only good thing that has happened to me these last few months was being able to introduce myself as your husband. i know that i stripped you bare of any love you may have had for any other man, but call me selfish for feeling glad that i did.” 

you could barely focus on what was happening, his words sinking deep into your skin, going to your bones. 

“i told myself that you had forgotten about me those years i left. when i saw you that night i was so sure you had come with the intention of finding a suitor that i didn’t want to distract you, but then i saw that man come up to you…” and he couldn’t finish, choking on his words as he stuttered, and you saw a glimpse of the boy you had fallen in love with so long ago. 

“and i followed you out. if i knew that simply being alone with you would have gotten me married to you then i would have cornered you in a closet the moment i saw you enter the dining hall.” 

a tear rolls down your chin, splattering on the ground beneath you as you struggle to make sense of what he was saying. it felt as though the months of being married to him were weeks spent pacing around your own rooms, thinking the same worried thoughts, and not having the strength to confront each other about it. 

“you…you don’t hate me?” your voice is timid, almost not believing yourself as the statement tumbled out. gojo had the audacity to laugh a bit, shaking his head as strands of his hair fell into his face. 

“my every waking moment is spent thinking of you. when i was in training, you were all i could dream about, hoping that when i’d come home i could finally have you to myself. 

“you have control over my emotions, my mind, my soul, and i cursed myself for taking away your options for a husband, but the only thing i’ve wanted to do these past few weeks was to hold you in my arms. to tell you just how deeply i yearn for your love back.” 

he wiped at his cheeks, glistening in the faint light. he looked angelic, despite the grime and blood that decorated his clothing. you didn’t want to think about the men he had killed just to come back, to come back to you, and the thought of ever losing him hurt you more than when you spent nights wondering why he never responded to any of your letters. 

you couldn’t stop your feet from leading you toward him, and you could only watch as he met you in the middle, catching you with all his strength, holding you as if you weighed nothing, and it only took a few seconds before your lips collided. 

it was rushed, and messy as you felt his hands holding you as if you carried the weight of the universe. your teeth clashed, your tears staining each other's skin as your hands gripped at his hair, using it for leverage as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, enjoying the whimper that escaped your lips when he nipped at yours. 

it was what years of longing and desperation felt like. how it felt like you two just molded into each other as if your bodies were cut out with the other in mind. you felt like your heart was about to stop beating, and you knew gojo felt the same with the way he’d whine against your lips, wanting you more than you could have ever imagined. 

“we’ve been stupid people, haven’t we?” you whispered as you pulled away, trying to catch your breath as he smiled against you. if only you knew just how much he’d been wanting to kiss you like this, to see your swollen lips as you looked at him from beneath your eyelashes. you were his venus, his only saving grace, and he could only vex himself for ever making you feel anything but love. 

“very, “ he pressed a kiss to the corner of your eyes, “very,” to your nose, “stupid,” his lips were on your cheeks, feeling like he was breathing in new air at the sound of your laughter, “people.” he pressed his lips to yours again, cherishing in the way you whined at the harshness. 

he had spent months convincing himself that you no longer cared for him. weeks of perilous training to only come back to a bed and dream of a girl who didn’t share his emotions when in reality you did. he wants to track down the letters you had sent him, to read every word carefully, as if each sentence carried its own riddle inside of it. he wanted to apologize for never having the honor of experiencing your skilled penmanship, for leading you to believe that he had simply forgotten about you. 

“gojo,” your fingers curl in his tunic, your heat transferring, trying to be rational in such an irrational state of being, “you’re bleeding, i should call for the doctor.” he didn’t stop kissing your face, moving to your jaw as he smiled hearing you shudder. 

“it’s not my blood,” he murmured and you wanted to smack him for how cocky he sounded, “and don’t call me gojo.” he nipped at your lips again. 

“husband?” you found yourself smiling at the title, but he shook his head. you saw how he was trying to hide his own grin. 

“sire?” you tested it out teasingly, hating how it sounded. he seemed to agree with the way he grimaced at the name. 

“my lord?” he wanted to bottle up your laughter forever, knowing he could get drunk off of the sound. his nose nudged up at your jaw, pressing wet kisses wherever he could. 

“hmm, what about my liege?” you're curling a strand of his hair around your fingers letting him settle you down on your vanity as you spread your legs so he could slot between them. 

“my men call me that.” he says, cringing as it falls off your mouth. you pretend to think, not knowing how you were able to live without this banter for as long as you did. 

“satoru?” you felt breathless saying it after so long. but he still didn’t seem to find it satisfactory enough, a pout on his lips as he wanted you to find a better one. 

“close, but only when you’re angry with me.” you tuck that information in the back of your mind for if you ever need to scold him, your cheeks flushed as he interlocks his fingers through yours. 

“‘toru…?” his lips broke into a giddy smile, and you had to control yourself as he swooped back in for a kiss. his eyes were so much softer when he laughed, the kind ones you fell in love with so many nights ago. 

“there it is,” his voice was husky, raw as your fingers gripped at the baby hairs at his nape. he was taking your air away with him and you couldn’t find it in yourself to fight back for it. 

“i forgot how cheeky you can be,” you bite your lip to keep the moans inside, feeling feverish as his tongue ran over his love marks, not knowing what to do yourself as you scrambled to grab onto something to keep you afloat.

“you have no idea how much self-control it’s taken not to ravage you,” his breath is hot on your skin, and he’s tugging at your shirt, fingers slightly brushing upon your breasts, “every night you’d come down for dinner i wanted something different to eat.”

“stoppp,” you mewled, not used to this. he chuckles as his slender fingers work to untie the knot keeping you together, tugging at the string until it falls, revealing your naked chest, heaving as the fabric pooled at your hips. 

you wanted to cover yourself up under his heavy gaze, to take the fabric and hide, but you felt pierced by his stare. his eyes darted to yours as if checking to see if you were okay. when you gave him a timid nod, it seemed as though it prompted him to finally move. 

his fingers were gentle as they ran across your waist, large as they covered the soft of your stomach, eager as they went upwards. he looked like he was crazed and starved, as if you were his last meal and he couldn’t wait for the sweetness death would give. 

your breath stuttered as his fingers found your mounds, rubbing a soothing thumb over your nipples as his pupils grew. he was eager as he flicked them over and over, a cheshire grin growing as they hardened under his touch. 

“you’re perfect,” he murmured, dropping down so he could suckle at your tits, his spit shining in the light of the fire, and you tilted your head back, soft moans escaping as his tongue drew circles around your buds. 

“f-fuck, ‘toru, that’s,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, his second hand coming to cup your other tit, not wanting to leave her unattended as he sucked and bruised, wanting to forever leave his mark on your untainted skin. 

“good?” he’s so cocky, and you want to smack the smug smirk off his devilishly handsome face. 

his knee is purposefully rubbing against your clothed clit, and you feel yourself subconsciously rubbing yourself against it. you hope that he can’t feel how drenched you are from him just sucking your tits, but he pinches you, pressing his tongue flat against your skin as he looks up through his lashes.

“horny from just me touching you?” he’s teasing you, it’s so painful the way you want, need him like oxygen. you tug on his hair roughly, bringing his spit-soaked lips back to yours as you bite down on his lower one, enjoying the groan you draw out from him. 

“don’t be mean ‘toru,” you taunt, and you feel him melt in your fingers, nodding to your request as he lowers himself down. 

he presses wet kisses down your torso, stopping just above your hips, his fingers hooking along the rim of your underwear, being careful and slow in his movements as he waits for any objections, making sure you’re okay with this. 

but you were in your own world, hitching your leg over his shoulders, drawing him in closer to you, sweat dotting your forehead as he licks a stripe over the cotton on your pussy, smiling to himself at the taste of you. 

you were so sweet, sweeter than any desert he’d indulge himself on. he was sure that once he had a taste of you he’d be able to repent, to go before any god, and to tell them that you were his religion.

he had spent countless nights, tossing and turning in his bed, the only thing putting him to sleep being the idea of coming home to you. running after you that night was him running home to you, regardless of where you were. he was glad he got your hand in marriage, but if he had to, he’d wait another ten years just to hold you in his arms again.

he peels your underwear off, a string of your arousal connecting to it, and he tucks it in his pants, for safekeeping. 

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he says against your heat, his nose rubbing against your clit as your eyes wring shut in pleasure. his hands grip your thighs, making sure you stay in place as he kitten licks around where you need him the most. 

“don’t let…don’t let any of your enemies hear,” your voice comes out in bits, your hand resting on the back of his head as your leg tightens around him, “don’t want them to come after me or something.” 

he snorts, pinching your thighs as if anybody could come within a ten feet radius of you without losing an eye. 

his lips come closer to where you desperately want him, a finger prodding at your tight entrance, his tongue finding your clit as he begins to suck. 

it’s all too much, the sensations far better than your own fingers have ever proved to be. 

his fingers are skilled, long enough that they reach deep within you. he sinks one fully in, your walls clamping around him as he continues sucking your clit, his teeth grazing it every so often, making your head thump against the wall. 

“talk to me, how do you feel?” his mouth discontented from your bud and you whine at the loss. he sinks in another finger to make up for it, but he doesn’t move them, waiting for your response. 

“‘s good,” one of your hands is fisting your discarded robe, trying to hold onto your senses as you desperately nod, “don’t stop ‘toru, please,” and he obliges, loving the sounds of your begging, but loving the sound of your pleasures more. 

his fingers stretch you open and you welcome the sting, your nails digging into him as you long for more. 

he switches his mouth with his hand every now and then, his tongue taking the place of his fingers as it licks at you, groaning at your taste as he eats you out with his entire being, his chin shining with your essence and his spit as his thumb rubs furiously at your clit. 

“mmhhh, just like that, fuck!” you’ve never heard your voice at this pitch, never knew it was possible to feel this way. his other hand reaches up to flick at your nipple, the extra sensation making white dot around your vision. 

you feel yourself getting closer to the sweet release, feel your wall clamp around him even tighter as that knot in your stomach builds to a crescendo. 

“come on, let go f’me, know you want to, know you can.” he spurs you on, his fingers unrelenting as they piston in and out of you, reaching that gummy spot that makes you go dumb.

“fuck, ‘toru, m’gonna, m’gonna come!” you cry out and you’re sure anybody walking past you could hear the debauchery. your thighs were starting to shake and you felt it all go black as you reached your high, your orgasm washing over you unlike anything you’ve ever felt. 

you creamed around his fingers, gushing around him as you wailed out, tears dotting your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure you were feeling. you squeezed around him, wanting to never lose what this felt like, trying to catch your breath as his mouth never stopped sucking at your nub before he was sure your climax was over. 

when he finally pulled away the only thing that could be heard was the two of you, trying to come back down as stupid smiles made their way onto each of your faces. 

he was boyishly charming as he stood in front of you, licking yourself off of his fingers as he grinned at the taste. you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed after having him just between your legs, but you still felt a heat blossom in your chest. 

“so…” you awkwardly start, sweat dripping down your face from just how hot the room had suddenly gotten as you avert your gaze, “what now?” 

he shrugged nonchalantly, despite the fact that his heart was about to beat it’s way out of his chest. you let him pick you off of the vanity and tucked you safely away into his chest as he led you to your bed, gently setting you down in your mountain of pillows and blankets as you felt sleep etch away at you. 

“i’m going to clean you up,” he pressed a kiss to your hair, smiling at the way you giddy smiled at whatever he did, a dopey grin on your face as your hand searched for his, interlocking you fingers with his as if you didn’t want to watch him go, “if you let me.” 

you yawn, your head tilting as he sat down at the edge of your bed, still not letting go of your hand as your fingers run through the soft pelts beneath you. 

“and what about you?” your chin points the obvious hard-on growing in his pants. he looks down as if suddenly realizing, and he plays it off by looking back up to you with a wink. you felt your mouth going dry at the size of it, not knowing if you could even be able to take something as big as that. 

“for another day,” he promises, and you’re sure he’s not going to forget it. not like you want him to.

“and then?” 

your question lingers in the air. you don’t want to wake up to him acting like this never happened, as if your feelings were only a figment of your wildest dreams. but his eyes hold onto yours, never letting go as he brushes some strays away from your face. 

“and then i get a bigger bed for my room because there’s no way i’m letting you sleep here alone after this.” his thumb runs along the palm of your hand, his fingers tracing patterns into the soft of your legs. 

“and then?” 

“and then you tell me all the things i missed out on when i was gone. i’ll tell you about the time suguru shaved my head, and you’ll tell me about anything on your mind.” 

“what if i run out of things to say?” sleep is overtaking your voice, and you’re already nodding off, not even truly knowing what you were asking. 

“then i’ll make up stories so that you’re not bored.” he finds a clean towel, soaking it in water from a nearby pitcher as he drags it slowly across your body, as if your fragile and made of porcelain. 

“how do i know you’re not a dream? you might just be,” you yawn, rubbing at your eyes as your finger traces his ring, “you might just be my own mind tricking me.” your eyes are shutting, but the teasing smile on your face never leaves. 

“because a dream wouldn’t hide under a table with you if you asked.” he whispers, kissing your lips with a soft peck as he pulls the blanket over you, letting you sleep into a slumber as he crawls in next to you, holding you to his chest just as he did that night, just as he will every night from now on, and just as he longed for those nights he wished you next to him.

[gorejo]

▸ A SOUVENIR FOR THE MORNING - GOJO SATORU. - forbes gojo!au

synopsis: you’ve avoided him for the last eight years, only for him to pop back into your life, leaving you with no room to run away as he asks you to kiss him. catch is, he now has a golden ring on his promise finger.

content: 9.2k words (idk how this happened, and it's unedited bc it's too long to go through) afab!reader, she/her pronouns, cursing, explicit smut, light angst, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, and anxiety triggers (picking at nails), pet names (baby, sweetheart, love, angel, good girl). minors do not interact.

The room is packed with people when you walk in. It was hard to recall some faces from the mirage of dimmed lights making you feel mildly dizzy and it didn’t help how the buzzing in your head from the smell of champagne and the loud chatter from the already drunk almost thirty-year-olds that can’t seem to contain their liquor-like novices, made you want to go home increasingly more.

“It’s only 9:41, and they’re drinking like they’ve never tasted alcohol before,” you heard Shoko mumble as she searched through her purse to reach for her perfume, “you want some?” Your best friend offered with a smile as she looked at you through the bathroom mirror. 

“I’m okay,” you smiled back, “can’t have all the boys following me around with that,” you teased.

Shaking her head in disapproval, “If you see me go home with any of these drunks, I give you full permission to hit me, no, in fact, I’ll pull up to your apartment every morning with coffee and take you to work for a week if I do,” Shoko shuddered while furrowing her brows only to quickly soften the moment she saw you lightly picking at your thumb – an anxious habit you’ve picked up throughout the years, only but the keenest of eyes being able to notice your anxiety.

“You okay love?” Her voice was sweet as she leaned against the restroom sink.

“Mhm, of course,” you faked a smile, “I guess I’m just a little nervous seeing everyone, you know,” lightly chuckling as you bit your lips. Little was underlying, when the knot in your stomach was building up, making you force down the urge to entirely vomit in the moment. 

“People are thrilled to see you again,” placing her hand on your shoulder, “it’s literally been years for you,” she huffed, pouting as she reminisced over the years she attended alone.  

“well ‘m sure one will be sure thrilled —” her voice suddenly drained from a crowd of people entering the restroom, slightly pushing you towards her, “nevermind come on, let’s go get something to drink,” Shoko muttered as she led you out, gently massaging your tense neck as she encouraged, bringing her lips to your ears, “if anyone bites, I’ll chop their dick off,” Shoko threatened with a flashing smile as she led you to a nearby table.  

It’s only 9:41 — no, 9:42.

College reunions, who looks forward to that? 

There was no particular reason for you to be anxious, it’s been years since. You’ve prepared yourself for this, meditating every single day since you got the notification in your email on a Tuesday evening — an invite to rsvp for a room at the Aman Hotel. 

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so nerve-wracking if you’ve been consistently going out to these every year since they’ve held one. But every year there seems to be a conflict in the schedule that forbade you to go.

One year it was your boss last-minute asking your team to work overtime, when a rookie employee lost all the data when he supposedly fell asleep, accidentally losing months of all your blood, sweat, and tears to make it for the deadline on your next advertising project. 

Poor kid was fired the next day.

The following year, you were determined to go, going as far as walking to the restaurant, when the sudden nausea of socializing plagued your mind. The joyous welcomings and celebrations annoyingly muffled in your ear as you groaned past a familiar voice that seemed to call out your name from a distance. Your feet walking on their own volition through your sleep deprivation. Only to wake up in your bed with countless text messages from your best friend asking what the hell happened. 

No wonder it was so fucking loud that night. 

Another was simple, not your fault this time. Shoko couldn’t make it because of her rounds at the hospital. 

Never in hell were you going to show up alone. 

And the last one, well your taxi got a sudden flat tire. That in itself was a confirmation for you not to go, nor did you have any dying wish to go. Quickly texting your best friend, huffing out a sigh of relief as you pressed send.

&lt;< sorry… can’t make it tonight. I promise, next year!! 

Today, well things seemed to have aligned. No overtime, no flat tires, no sleep deprivation, no nothing.

Maybe it was an excuse? 

Maybe you were subconsciously avoiding it? 

But ironic is it, that life seems to protect you when most fragile, only to push you out into the void when least expected making you feel even more vulnerable, feeling so exposed in such a cruel world. 

Or maybe the universe was waiting for this moment, that despite your consensus or approval, it was determined that you were ready to confront it — well it, being the owner of a pair of brilliant light blue eyes that sparkled like an aqua jewel, shining brighter than when you’ve last seen them clouded in tears as you let go of his trembling hand for the last time, crushing his pure heart as you left him with, “i’m sorry.”

Was that already eight years ago? 

But whether it was the consequence of your selfish choice or a blessing of choosing to be selfless, luck was on your side today…

… well, you hoped at least somewhat on your side.

“My … look who it is,” you heard a voice from behind you.

Turning around, though the shame of suddenly cutting him off enticed your heart as you faced him, you couldn’t help but smile at his familiar face walking over with two drinks in his hand.

Holding the same gentle eye smile, with a lock of his black hair falling down on his left side, donned in a white dress shirt with his sleeves cuffed at the elbows, no tie but buttons loosely opened with a pair of dark slacks and shined dress shoes. Geto Suguru walked over.

“Aren’t you still handsome,” you complimented with a sweet smile.

“Don’t feed into his ego like that,” Shoko chimed as she nudged your arm, “his head is already big enough.”

“Who me?” Exaggerating his response, only to soon level down to the same amiable smile, calm cadence you’ve remembered him to have as he offered you a drink, “I have to take all the compliment I can get, don’t know when you’ll go awol and go missing for another eight years.”

“Funny…” you muttered, rolling your eyes while taking the drink by the stem, “and thank you, Suguru.”

“Where’s mine?” Shoko jabbed while shooting a glare at his nonchalance.

“Not here,” Geto flashed a smile, innocently shrugging. 

“Whatever, I’ll get my own,” shaking her head in disapproval, grumbling while making her way to get a drink, but still making a point to stop in front of the man to warn, “Don’t say anything weird Suguru, I barely got her to come today.”

“Relax, ‘m just trying to catch up with an old friend,” Geto countered, making a point to whisper while smiling at you.

“I won't hurt her, that I promise,” Geto affirmed. 

Your best friend walked off only to turn around for a brief moment as she worriedly looked back at you “Text me for anything okay?” 

“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry,” you reassured.

“And don’t forget what I said, I’ll even cut his,” deadpanning while looking at your male counterpart, “I got no problem doing it, I’m medically certified anyways, there’s nothing that a sharp scalpel can’t fix, ” Shoko stated with an innocent smile while walking off. 

“So,” releasing a sigh as he pushed the strains of his hair back, “how’ve you been?” Geto smiled.

“I’ve been… okay,” you confessed while placing your lips against your glass before taking a sip, “could be better.”

“Thought you were living your life,” Geto teased, his voice laced with sarcasm, “Shoko wouldn’t tell us much about you.”

“I… I told her not to,” you confessed while leaning against your table, the pain of your heels starting to ache up your back. 

“How come? Weren’t we your friends too?” 

“I just didn’t think it was best to keep myself in the circle when I —” biting the inside of your mouth to stuff the suffocating knot forming underneath your lungs.

“ — When you broke up with him?” Geto finished your hesitation.

Nodding yes, you softly whispered, “I thought it was for the best for him.”

“For the best huh?” Geto chuckled, “well I guess you didn’t know him too well then.”

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrowed as your mouth started to feel dry, “I did it because we weren’t compatible, I would’ve been a stumbling block for him,” you stammered as your voice started to shake, “I- I would’ve halted his growth, and he would’ve hated me in the end if I selfishly held onto him when he was worth so much more than being with me,” you confessed with lips quivering as a tear fell, only to quickly brush it away before Suguru could notice.

But nothing passes with him, he reads right through you. His voice softened, “Was this your insecurity you’ve decided for him or — ” turning his body to face you while his body leaned on his arm against the standing table, “Was this something he actually would’ve struggled with?”

“I can’t change the past Suguru.” You shamefully avoided his gaze, “I still stand by my decision.”

“I don’t doubt that,” shrugging as he exhaled, “I mean, you did avoid him for almost a decade.”

“H-he seems happy,” you let your thoughts slip.

“You think so?” 

“Shoko would tell me about everyone, you, him” you unnoticingly spewed out your thoughts. “Of course not in full detail, but that you’ve established your own studio, and that you’ve finally released those photos.”

“Mhm, that’s correct, would’ve loved to have invited you to the exhibition, it was quite… a moment,” he chuckled while playing with his fingers. 

“That Megumi’s in high school and that he’s gotten in trouble for beating up the school bullies,” lowly laughing as you remembered how cute yet scarily mature he was for his age.

“Nanami hates corporate life, but still listens to what he has to say even if it’s outrageous.” Taking a sip of your drink, the sparkle of the beverage mildly burning your throat, “... and that he’s traveling the world living his life.”

Mumbling under your breath, “he’s even recently gone to Paris and had a night picnic with —”

“You stalked him?” Geto teased as he huffed out a laugh when he caught your shocked expression

“No — I mean, Shoko would tell me,” you stammered.

“Sure, whatever you say, sweetheart," Geto teased, "but just to let you know, he just got back. And from what I know, they haven’t met since he arrived. His plane should’ve landed,” while dramatically looking at his watch, “I don’t know like an hour ago? He’s probably on his way over here,” Geto handsomely winked as he suddenly placed a gentle hold of your waist and brought you near his side.

“You know… he’ll look for you, now knowing that you’re here” Geto whispered into your ear.

“How does he know… I told Shoko to not tell —”

Blinking innocently at you with a smile, while playing with his phone, “can’t avoid the poor guy forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” you sighed knowing what Geto had done, “just didn’t have a chance to run into him.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” releasing you with a smile, “ if you’re really sure about where you stand, then don’t run away from him.”

Geto's eyes flash to the entrance doors for a split second and land back on you.

“But would you look at that,” humming as he pointed to his empty glass yet his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure. It was the first in a while that you felt your heart sinking, all the blood in your body rushing out, making you suddenly feel lifeless and queasy.

“Gonna get another glass, you want one?” Suguru suggested.

“I’m okay, but thank you Suguru,” you quickly stated as your heart started to beat faster by the second.

“Sure, just don’t be a stranger again,” Suguru teased as he started to walk off, but your hand immediately reached out to catch his arm to quickly reinforce, “I- I mean it… thank you.”

Knowing your implication, smiling as he received your thanks, “No need, as fucking cringe it is,” chuckling as he shook his head, looking over your shoulder and back at you, “he’s my best friend, of course, I’ll be there for him.”

Letting go of his arm, your hands anxiously balled into a fist as you quickly turned around to avoid him, doing anything to hide from his sight. You felt your breaths becoming increasingly more difficult to inhale, and stagnant as your palms started to sweat. 

“I’m not avoiding him… I’m not avoiding him” you quietly mumbled to yourself, your words contradicting your actions as you walked further away onto the balcony, texting Shoko, 

<< I’ll be outside getting some fresh air (: let me know when you want to leave.  

Closing your phone, as you let the night breeze wash against your face, leaving light chills around your body, you nervously sighed, “It’s been eight years you say…”

— 

Your story was nothing short of the typical — difference in class and status, trying to make things work just for the convenience of love. It wasn’t hard at first to situate yourself into his life, nor was it any difficult for him to become accustomed to yours. 

They say time will change things, circumstances will get better. Be patient with your season, and you’ll be rewarded for your hardwork.

But somethings never change no matter how hard you try to alter the dice. He’s rich and you’re just average.

Money works for him, while you had to take on multiple jobs just to make your next rent at the start of your career. 

He was bound for greatness at a young age, trained by the best professionals and tutored by an exquisite league of mentors. While you had to settle for things, simply dreaming of the what can be. Thus, you worked even harder. You pushed yourself to keep up, to become of the level of who he’s supposed to be, and what he could accomplish. 

When he dozed off in class, you stayed up. You studied, pulled all-nighters, chugged caffeine, and oftentimes had to push back dates with him for simple study sessions — he didn’t complain, said he liked to just sleep with his head rested on your lap while he cuddled into your stomach while you studied. 

“Don’t mind me, I’ll be your personal radiator,” he would chime with a boyish grin on his face, taking off his sunglasses as he stretched his long legs before latching behind you like a koala, “wake me up when you’re done, I’ll drive you home,” Gojo peacefully murmured without forgetting to place a kiss to your shoulder, while you stressed over your next exam. 

With him, even the coldest days always felt warm.

And on the next day, he’ll always take you to class with some soup and hot tea, murmuring about your poor dietary choices and how you often neglect your health to study. But at least he’ll be gentle, and wish you the best on your exam with a light kiss — an innocent kiss that lasts a bit too long, his hand always gracing your body as he reluctantly releases you, brushing off the saliva that linked your lips together — his good luck charm he’ll argue, a little tease of what he’ll reward you with later when you got home for being his good girl. 

Gojo will always try to convince, “Life isn’t always about studying, baby,” stating with a pout, after your fifth time canceling a date he’s planned to instead go on a simple walk outside your flat, “you gotta live life to the fullest! And why stress when you’ve snatched me?”

“Well, I can’t live life to the fullest if I don’t study now, Satoru. And who’s gonna pay for all that ice cream you eat? All the sweets you stock up on?”

“What do you mean?” Deadpanning as he stopped in his tracks, “you have me, what more else do you need? I'm a double threat — I’m rich and handsome.”

“Satoru — I… never mind,” rolling your eyes, as you were hit with his puppy eyes. 

“Just promise,” his tall frame blocking you, “that you’ll always stick with me.”

“I’m not a piece of gum to just stick onto you, Satoru,” pushing him away, only for him to reach out to delicately hold your hand, “You know, if you’re a gum, you’ll be the sweetest one.”

“Yea, why so?”

“Because every time I eat you, you taste so sweet,” he teased with a flirty wink, “if you get what I — ow!” 

Rubbing his forearm that barely hurt, Gojo loved to exaggerate when he was with you. 

For Gojo, things came easily for him, as if the universe highlighted his life as a thousand-year blessing, nothing was out of his reach — that is, nothing but you. 

Shocking to many, he pursued you first. When asked about how you guys met, or what’s the story behind you two, or even if no soul asked… he’ll blabber on with an outrageous story, saying he fell in love the moment he laid his eyes on you, that you were the apple of his eye — an over the top fanfiction of you and him of how he just knew you were the person for him when you stumbled into the library, arms full of books and coffee in the other, and you magically just happened to just bump into him. And if it wasn’t for that encounter, then he would’ve never gotten your number. 

And without your number, he wouldn’t have been able to woo you with his charm, he’ll always add with a wink.

“You can say it’s fate,” he’ll proclaim, “I never went to the library, you know,” as he munched on his icecream with Megumi and Tsumiki savoring theirs, both unbothered by the story he’s told them countless times, “and the one day I chose to follow Suguru because he was simping over someone, I get coffee spilled all over my clothes and meet her? Damn, the heavens just wanted us together.”

All you remember of that day was that your precious coffee went to waste, with your books embarrassingly spread out on the floor, and you were stuck having to dry clean his ridiculously expensive clothes. 

But with him, you experienced all your firsts.

Your first handholding — Satoru confidently took your hand, immediately interlocking his fingers with yours, his palms engulfing yours entirely, “don’t be scared baby, I’m not scared,” flexing his muscles as he proudly smiled,  “I’ll protect you!” as he leads you through the haunted mansion, jolting through every jump scare, absolutely refusing to scream. 

You remember his palms felt particularly clammy that day. 

Your first kiss — on a spring picnic as he laid on your lap, his eyes sparkling a little more than usual as he looked up at you, innocently asking, “can I kiss you?” 

Your first argument. Ignoring him for a whole week, only for your resolve to quickly break when Suguru urgently called you to his house stating that Satoru was deathly ill — dark circles under his eyes, cheeks frail from not eating, wrapped up in his blanket as he dramatically announced his dying wishes while sneaking obvious glances at you. 

Geto’s diagnosis: pure insanity. 

To your first cuddle buddy, to innocent make-out sessions, to wonton looks and lustful touches for more. leading to your first sexual experience, both unknowing and inexperienced as he groaned into your ear in the back of his car one rainy night as you struggled to take his girth.

He was your first taste of goodness — like a forbidden fruit, you increasingly wanted him more. In soul, mind, and body, you etched yourself into him, making the tear even more painful to rip apart. 

Sure, loving him was easy — but loving you, the version who was so lacking compared to him and insecure was hard.

You tried to ignore it, you did your best to brush off the insecurity that came with each day of choosing him. But having the message that you were worth less than he was being constantly blasted to your face — the blatant discrepancies between social classes and the nature of how you both grew up, to the constant side glances you’ll get wondering how someone so normal like you, got with such a high net worth — gradually, it all made you dissociate from him. 

So you worked even harder. You stayed up longer than anyone else just to get that better grade. You worked that extra shift just to prove that you were capable. You doused yourself in knowledge, yet tried to stay humble to be seemingly perfect… but in that, you unknowingly pushed him further away, losing parts of yourself while at it. 

And your final straw? It was a text message you accidentally read on his phone while he silently napped, cutely dozing off as you massaged his scalp.

From: Mom.

>> Remember the girl I talked to you about? Nitori-chan’s family requested that we set up a date for you two. The faster the better, no need for our families to meet, it’s all settled. 

To: Minako.

<< Let’s meet. When are you free, Minako? 

From: Minako.

>> Whenever! I can meet now!

>> Is this about our potential engagement?

To Minako.

<< Yea, let's meet tonight to talk about it.

You remembered, that night you couldn't reach him.

The final trigger that blew it over. The rambling of your thoughts paralyzes you from thinking rationally.

You didn’t need to search up who she was. Nitori Minako, the youngest daughter of Japan’s leading technology company that rivaled to that of America’s fruit. A girl that was a year younger than you — smart, adamantly cute, cunning and rich — always following him around a bit too closely for your liking, preaching about how “Gojo-san promised he’ll marry me when we were young! Isn’t that so cute?”

how long was this going on for? 

Has he always been going on secret dates like this? Was he always just willing to let it slide when you rejected his dates because he had other options?

Was he leading you on this whole time before he’ll leave you for what he rightfully deserved? 

Was all of this a lie? All of what he said?

The pinnacle of your sanity breaking as your thoughts became corrosive and brittle the more you dove deeper into the pitfalls of your insecurities — of course what people said was right, there was no way someone like him can settle for any less.

... Ultimately, everything led to you quietly blurting out as he rambled about his day. 

Playing with your hand, smiling like a loser as he intertwined your smaller fingers with his, “Geez, there was this jeweler that I wanted to take you to, but dammit, the store closed early today. Maybe we can go — ”

“Let’s break up,” you suddenly announced, looking straight ahead.

The room suddenly felt quiet, so quiet that the thumping of your heart felt like loud sirens blaring next to your eardrum, and your body felt numb. 

After a few seconds, Satoru stammered, “w-what?”

Sighing as you closed your eyes, “I said, let’s break up, we aren’t — ” you reiterated.

“I heard you the first time,” Gojo hissed, still playing with your fingers but his grip now harsher, “just wanted to make sure you weren’t bullshitting right now.”

“I’m not joking, Satoru,” your voice stripped of any emotion, “we aren’t good for eachother.”

“Says who?” the man challenged. 

“It’s something that’s been on my mind,” you responded back while trying to pull back your hand, “l-let go, Satoru, it hurts…”

“Is it because of the text?” Gojo refused to let go, even more so gripping even harder, “Fuck... I'm sorry I should've explained earlier," his voice pleading for you to listen.

"I swear nothing happened, and nothing will ever happen, b-baby look at me,” your boyfriend’s — now, ex-boyfriend's — voice elevating and shaking. 

“Gojo,” softly pausing after his name, “let’s end it when things aren’t so bad… I can’t have you hating me more when we have no other choice but to break up,” finally pushing his grip off, “it’s inevitable, we’ve been walking towards a destined finish line from the beginning, let’s just call it quits a little earlier.”

“no... you can't do this, you can't do this to me,” he vulnerably uttered, his body noticeably trembling as a tear dropped onto the back of your hand as he reached over to touch you, hoping it'll mend whatever hatred you had towards him, “you.. we promised,” his voice shaking.

“I’m sorry Gojo,” you dodged his grasp, “guess promises are only good if you can keep them, and I can’t.”

Days of him begging at the forefront of your door, crying as he asked for an explanation, his missed texts and calls that would go straight to voicemail, to Suguru stepping in to ask what the hell was going on… all leading you to cut off every aspect of Gojo Satoru out of your life, except Shoko.

After two years of dating, at the ripe age of 20, you experienced your first heartbreak with Gojo Satoru, marking the end of the final chapter of your love story with him. 

To you, he’ll be the greatest warmth you’ll ever experience. 

To him, you’ll be the heartless bitch that left him cold.

—-

“Hmm,” looking at your empty notifications, “guess she’s a little busy right now…” you hummed. Despite your outwardly calm demeanor and the stillness of the serene summer night, juxtaposed was your mind with wandering thoughts that wrecked havoc in your head. 

Shoko would update you occasionally about him, not going too far into details. You knew he was successful in his craft, excelling in it as he ranked 11th in Forbes 30 under 30 list, losing the tenth spot barely to a Zenin. It would be a lie if you weren’t curious about him, your mind wandering and weak during the quietest of nights, making a burner account to stalk his socials, only to immediately regret the moment you see photos and stories that presumably show that he’s in a relationship — with a gorgeous one in fact.

You’ve briefly heard of his dating history, hearing it from Shoko directly, as it mindlessly slipped through her tongue as she complained that he’s broken up with another girl. 

Throughout the years, you’ve concluded maybe this was your punishment for leaving him. Damnation to feel stuck in the same perpetual regret of hurting his heart, of choosing to look at your fears instead of maybe trusting in him. 

But, at least he looked happy. and you clung onto that reserve.

Maybe it was for the best that things happened this way  —

Your ears perked up as you heard the tapping of shoes coming towards you, your stomach suddenly dropping to the floor. 

“Were you planning on avoiding me the whole night?” 

You were sure, there was no denying that was his voice. 

Yes, it was a bit deeper from when you last heard it. The decibel of his voice is now infused with power and confidence, yet still with the underlying tone of softness from what you remembered. 

“Ah, sorry… how rude of me,” you mumbled, the pounding of your heart beating through your ribcage. You quickly placed an arm over your chest, a hand over your heart, doing anything to muffle the harsh pulsing, terrified that he was going to hear, “it’s been a while Gojo,” you offered him a light smile, “I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me Ieiri is waiting for me,” you tried excusing yourself only to be met with his stance unchanging, unmoving. 

You felt his eyes pierce into your skull, “Gojo?… ah that’s right,” his voice guarded as he looked over in another direction, his face pointing specifically elsewhere, the moonlight highlighting his perfect features.

“I think she’s pretty busy, don’t you think?” he shrugged.

Dammit she was your ride home. Guess coffee is on her for the next week. 

“Oh sorry,” you muttered under your breath.

Grinning as he licked his lips, “You’re awfully saying sorry a lot over nothing,” Gojo chuckled, “guess old habits die hard,” his last words spewed with a hint of bitterness as he clenched his jaws. 

Only to relax seconds later, placing his drink on the railing, softly grunting as he pulled off his jacket, and placed it over your shoulders, “It’s cold, don’t want you getting sick now,” the smell of his cologne filled up your lungs, hypnotizing your senses — a bit strong but nonetheless intoxicating.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty for feeling a sense of security from the weight of his heated jacket, and in response, you started to immediately pick at your thumbs. 

“It’s okay!” You tried to object, trying to take it off only to be met with a stern yet gentleness of his voice, his large hand stopping you, now calloused and thick yet the warmth of his palm brushing against your smaller one felt nostalgic and sinful, as your eyes immediately noticed a gold sparkle on his ring finger, “it’s fine. my body runs hot, remember?” 

“T-thank you,” you muttered, the harsh beatings of your heart quickly making your cheeks feel hot. 

A ring? you wondered.  

“So, what made you come today?” Gojo huffed as he looked off into the distance.

“Had no excuse not to come.”

“I see,” his voice deep, taking the last swig of his drink, deeply inhaling to release a long breath, “It’s good to see you though.”

“Yea, me too,” you quietly responded, the awkwardness of the conversation eating at your bones, the tightness of your stomach knotting increasingly more.

Laughing as he turned around, his long legs crossed, showing a bit of his socks peeking out of his slacks as his dress shoes reflected the moon's shine. Surely, they were expensive, probably equaled to a month of your rent on his feet. With his arms crossing his chest, leaning against the railing, the quiet winds brushing against his soft hair, lightly masking his cerulean eyes as he faced you, “Liar, you were always good at that.”

Taking you off guard, your eyes immediately connecting with his, your breath stopping as if a sudden load was pushed onto your chest, you felt a wave of sadness rush over you as you ventured into his empty eyes. 

Since when did he have that ring? 

Did he find someone at Paris? Shoko told me — no, there’s no way he found someone so soon.

Or maybe he’s trying to settle down —

“Are you happy?” His question brought you back into reality.

“What?” you whispered.

“I don’t think I’ve asked a hard question,” he responded, his voice now harsh and impatient, “I asked if you were happy.”

Your finger pricks at your thumb, “I guess so…”

Rolling his tongue against his teeth, his finger playing with his ring.   

Taking no regard for catering to your comfort, he jeered, “Why’d you do it?”

“What are you talking —” you stammered.

“You know damn well what I’m referring to,” Gojo spat. 

“Excuse me,” You muttered, your eyes refusing to disconnect despite your whole body fighting against it.

“I- I got to go, Ieiri is waiting —”

“No, you already used that excuse,” pulling you in by your wrist, immediately caging you in between his arms, with you now leaning against the railing, your eyes level to his broad chest — has he always been this big?

“Answer me, at least you can have the courtesy of honestly telling me why you left me like that eight years ago.”

“I don't remember,” you stated with eyes threatening to spill.

“Liar,” his body leaning down, the hurt in eyes even more apparent than before, “you’re a fucking liar,” Gojo spewed with no resolve to withhold a solid tear from falling, his face now dangerously close — lips even more threatening to touch.

All you wanted to do was say sorry, to cup his face and kiss his tears, to say it was a mistake that you’ve never intended to let him go — you selfishly tortured him by continuously keeping him in your heart without giving him a chance to prove you wrong. 

“I’m so sorry,” was all you could respond.

“Did you not trust me?” Hurt was apparent in his voice, “Was I that untrustworthy for you to just leave like that and just disappear for eight years?”

“No, no… it’s not like that,” you tried comforting, unknowingly placing your hands on his chest, “it was never like that.”

"then tell me why," he forced out through gritted teeth while furrowing his brows.

"I just thought it was for the best," you quietly whispered.

"you thought it would be for the best?" Gojo scoffed, "And how the hell did you come to a conclusion to just leave like that?"

" 'm sorry, Gojo... I - I truly am," you pleaded while clenching his shirt.

"You must've really enjoyed watching me beg huh," Gojo challenged, "absolutely thrived knowing this was all for my own good, right?" Gojo spat out his anger.

"It wasn't like that, i'm so sorry, I was hurting —"

“Stop fucking apologizing! you don't get to do that," His voice shattered the serene night. Chest heaving as he clenched onto the stone railing, "I didn’t go through shit these past eight years just to hear your selfish sorry's,” he stated with gritted teeth, as he threateningly moved even closer, “d-did you even love me?” 

“Yes, of course!” You immediately cupped his face, finally letting go of the years you craved his touch, your heart shattering as you felt him melt into your wicked hands.

“Then kiss me,” he suddenly whispered, the slight scent of alcohol mixed in with cologne altering your judgment.

“Y-your drunk, Gojo,” you pleaded, immediately letting go of his face as you tried to push him off.

His voice elevated, "Why not?" Gojo growled, "Like you said, it's not like you left because you didn't love me. Or are you lying about that too?"

“don’t make this hard, we — I can’t do this with you anymore,” guilt running through your veins as the image of his ring blared loudly in your head.

You couldn’t do this to another girl, he wasn’t yours anymore… 

“stop the bullshit,” Gojo growled before his lips slammed into yours, his large hands cupping your face, leaving you no room to run away. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, teeth painfully clashing yet you didn’t mind. because against your resolve, your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to taste the sweetness of his saliva and feel the warmth of his tongue.

The groan of his voice vibrated against your lips, as his clothed hip bucked into your pelvis, his lips trailing down from yours to your neck, tongue sloppily trailing down with it as his hands wandered down to hold your hips.

“Tell me you missed me,” he moaned out as you gripped the ends of his hair,  his tongue teasing down your sweet spots, pecking kisses as he inhaled your scent.

“Say you loved me, I don't care anymore if it’s a lie,” your ex now pleaded, his hot breath heating your cheeks.

“… I love you,” you confessed.

Lowly laughing like a maniac, staring deep into your wanting eyes, the man whispered back, “aren't you fucking heartless.”

...

You don’t recall how you made it into the hotel room. In a moment your lips crashed with his on the balcony, and only a second later you found yourself with his large hand securely wrapped around yours, silently waiting for the elevator to bing on the twentieth floor as your ex-boyfriend led you into his hotel room.

Now, currently, you’re pressed against the wall, shoes thrown aside groaning with your hands tangled in his soft hair, as he hurriedly stripped you out of your dress, lips hungrily moving against each other as he growled into the kiss.

Though its been years, his touch never faltered from remembering your body — immediately tracing over your sweet spots that he’s located in your early twenties, now with more experience and strength he dove deeper in.

“Fuck, missed these beauties,” he groaned as he cupped your breasts, his thumb playing with your hardened nipples as he quickly released the back strap of your bra, promptly latching his lips onto your swollen ones again right before you released a moan.

Your body had a mind of its own. Fallen into sin, your hands unbuttoned his shirt, quickly revealing his toned, muscular build as your hands ran against his pecs. You felt his stomach flex as you started to unbuckle his belt and zip down his pants, his lips hungrily chasing after yours as he caressed your body, hands slipping down further into your inner thigh, his index starting to play with your swollen clit — his fingers have always been so pretty, especially with his ring

“G-gojo stop!” Your eyes immediately shoot open.

“What,” annoyed, the man hissed, looking into your eyes with his pupils dilated, hair absolutely disheveled, until moments later his lips are impatiently back onto yours again. 

“We.. we can’t,” you cried out as you melted in his touch, “y-your ring,” you gasped out, suffocating as he stripped you of oxygen.

“Ring?” he stopped for a brief moment, chuckling as he brought up his finger, “you worried about this?” he teased.

Intoxicated in his touch, you were willing to throw away your pride and dignity just for one night — one night can’t hurt, right? So you take the ounce of courage you had left, placing a tender kiss on his lips as a sign of surrender as you gently cupped his face, “take off your ring,” you whispered as you guilty looked away.

Chasing after your kiss, pushing you further into the room as you yelped at his force, your arms entangled around his neck and fingers around his hair as you tried to stabilize yourself, “I promise you it’s nothing, sweetheart,” he coaxed with his sharp canines flashing through his wickedly handsome smile. 

And running his lips against your chest, leaving small denture marks on your skin that forced moans out of you, with his pants now pooled at his ankles before shimming them off, his cock fully erect, unapologetically twitching in his briefs.

“For you, I guess,” Gojo hummed as he watched the thin line of spit that connected you both dissipate away, existing as a sign of proof of the situationship he currently had with you. 

Taking his ring off, he set it down near the bedside table, "there it's gone."

At least for this night, he was yours. 

You’ll repent for your sins, and receive any punishment the gods had to give you tomorrow, but today, you chose him.

And right now, you also chose to kneel in between his thighs, hooking your finger under his waistband to pull his briefs off. Satoru immediately lifted his hips to help you while releasing a sultry groan as he felt the cold air elope his sensitive tip. 

Was he always this thick? You remembered his cock being pretty, but also what the fuck were those two veins running down his shaft? And was he always this… groomed? 

“Are you just gonna stare at it… or do I need to use your mouth to get some action?” Satoru impatiently asked with his cock twitching, his finger brushing against your heated cheeks as he palmed his member.

“It’s just been awhile,” you murmured, licking your lips before you opened your mouth to have him enter.

“Fuck, " Satoru shuddered as the base of your tongue brushed against his frenulum.

"i must be dreaming,” Gojo murmured under his breath, your head rising up as you released his cock with pop! With your hot tongue swirling against his head, there was no chance for Satoru to stay strong. and you enjoyed every second of seeing him slowly unravel in your power.

“j-just like that,” he ordered while placing his hand on top of your head, guiding your momentum. 

His precum tasted salty but pleasant. Hell, he wasn’t even close to the other men you’ve been with, incomparable starting with the size of their dicks to his.

Hallowing your cheeks and expanding your throat to take in his shaft, with your hands gently playing with his balls, you felt his cock hit the back of your throat the moment you saw his head fling backwards, gasping as he pushed down his spit down his dry throat.

“You like that?” Gojo hissed as he bucked his hips into your warm crevice, “you missed my cock, angel?”

You honestly agreed, tears staining your vision with his length stuffed into your orifice, only to get a spiteful laugh in return, “well, guess that makes two of us,” he huffed while crowning over your body, pushing himself deeper into you, his stomach hitching as he groaned out your name.  

“Fuck this shit,” he moaned, as he urgently pulled himself out of your mouth, sacrificing his impeding release for abstinence. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” he gasped when your thumbs swirled around his pulsing head, “you always do,” he purred as he nibbled on your lower lip, promptly pulling you onto his lap, one hand straddling your waist while the other mounded your ass.

And looking up at you, with his blue eyes now darkened in full blown lust, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, “tell me what you want? I’ll give you anything.”

“Y-you,” you shamefully confessed, gasping as his cock grazed against your sensitive folds, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you started to grind against his length, “I want you inside me again, Satoru” you whispered into his ear, lightly moaning out his name.

“Shit,” Satoru croaked, pulling himself down as he gently released you to lay on the bed, “I dont have a condom,” he confessed as he gently kissed your cheeks, “ you gonna be okay without it?” he asked.

“Mhm, j-just hurry… please,” you murmured. 

“Good girl, now come here,” he coaxed as he placed a soft pillow under your head. 

Taking a brief moment to observe your face, reading any sign of forced emotion that you might try to hide, only to ease himself into the kiss when he feels you impatiently desiring his touch, “relax, baby,” he cooed as his kisses traveled southward.

Placing each delicate kiss on your body as his soft hair trailed behind, lightly tickling you as your thighs gently caged his waists into you, “you know they wanted me to thank you,” Gojo breathed out as he split your thighs open, settling himself in between your legs.

“W-who?” you whimpered as his calloused hands massaged your muscles, his soft lips easing out the tension boiling in your core while your hands immediately went straight to grip his hair.

Lips drawing closer, closer and closer until his breath knocked against the frame of your dripping cunt.

“God you’re so fucking wet,” blowing air onto your sensitive nerves, looking up to watch your body shiver at his power as he slid his finger down your folds, pushing in one finger, two, and eventually three into your tight hole as he watched you stretch, your viscous juice soon dripping down his forearm.

“They wanted me to thank you for how good I eat pussy now,” Gojo smirked before he took a swipe of his tongue against your womanhood, spreading out your cunt as he purposefully flicked his tongue against your clit, lightly sucking on the bud thereafter.

… 

How many times as it been, you wondered? More than once or twice, maybe four… five — you moaned out when you felt your legs hitching up to his shoulders, his cock hitting just at the right spots he remembered from years ago. 

“Angel,” Gojo huffed as sweat dripped down his temple, grunting as he felt your tight walls fluttering against his length at the call of his sweet pet name, “you have that much leisure to be thinking about something else when I’m fucking you?” 

Kissing your ankles, his pelvis showing you no mercy as his wet skin slapped against your ass, the sound and sultry smell of hot sex filtrating your room, “still so fucking tight,” Satoru grunted as he pushed his body onto you, your legs hooking against his shoulders, his strong arms holding you from under.

“G-gojo!” you rasped out, barely audible and inable to breathe from his heavy weight and humidity of the room, “it’s too deep! Slow down!”

Growling into your ear, his teeth nibbling against your earlobe, his hot breath stinging your face as he scoffed at your choice to call him so mundanely.

“you gonna be so impersonable,” his thrust going deeper, harder into you, “when I’m so deepily inside you?”

“Ngh,” gasping, “it’s too much,” you sobbed with his face planted into your neck, and his ass clenching with every push he drove into your gushy walls that still wrapped so perfectly around his — just like how he’s last felt you around him, just like how he’s molded your insides just for himself.

“You let anyone else fuck you?” He suddenly hissed, panting as he tried to catch his breath, the sweat on his back making it difficult for you to hold onto him, “you let anyone else see this side of you?”

“It’s too much —” you pleaded, avoiding his question.

“Answer me,” he lowly ordered.

Unable to withstand his power, absolutely willing to fold for him and his desires, you fastidiously nodded, “only a couple,” you shyly confessed.

"how many," he growled, disappointed in your answer, "how many fucked this."

"o-one or two, ngh I-I don't remember," you panted.

“One or two, you say,” he cooed as he pulsed his cock swiftly into you in rhythmic motions, satisfied seeing his length disappear inside you. his pace driving you to the brink of insanity as your lower belly started to fire up again as he knowingly pressed his palm down on your stomach.

“Then I gotta fuck you twice more to force out all memory you have of those stupid fucks,” grunting as he cupped your face to look at him, lips swollen with his skin marked by your nails, hips unapologetically thrusting into you as he watched you unravel in his lead, “because this pussy’s always been mine.”

Seven.

He’s definitely made you cum seven times. you remembered the count just before he groaned out your name, his thrusts sloppy and strained, gasping as he pulled you tighter into his embrace, face caved into your neck as he finally released his thick loads into your abused walls, sobbing out cursed moans as you held him, expending out every last ounce of energy you had for him in mere four words,

“I’ve always loved you,” you whispered before completely passing out. 

You failed to notice a tear fall from his eyes drop to your face. He hoped that it’ll stain you, wished it would reach all the way through to your heart to burn you. But he couldn't, so instead he carefully wiped it away as he gently kissed your face — inch by inch of your canvas before he chose to face you again.

“you’re so heartless,” Gojo chuckled as he pulled you in for a tight hug, straight into his chest as he laid beside you, refusing to pull out and have his cum spill onto the sheets — a feat he’s never dared to do with anyone else, he’s always fucked protected.

“what am I going to do with you," he breathed out.

"even with all this time, I’m still so weak for you,” he quietly confessed, reaching over to the side, reaching for his ring to put on the empty finger, before he too fell into the abyss of another dimension with you in his arms. 

—-

Lowly groaning as you opened your eyes, your body felt oddly heavy and aching, but yet warm and safe despite feeling on the absolutely verge of possibly snapping in half and breaking with any force.

Blinking a couple times before you started to register the room, you felt a slight huff next to your ear and the tightening around your waist as your back leaned against something hard.

Gojo Satoru, in all of his glory, was sleeping so soundly next you.

Carefully turning around to face him, you observed his features as you ran your fingers against his skin.

His lashes were still so long and soft, you giggled when Gojo twitched his nose at your touch.

His cheeks were still so smooth, without a spec of a blemish, but you can see the little bags under his eyes and the small creases on his skin. he’s probably tired from traveling.

Your finger travels down to his chiseled jaw, and defined collar bones, examining the light scratch marks on his pale skin, and the bruising of his nipple — wait… his lips are chapped and swollen, and his cock… oh god, his cock was brushing against your stomach — hard and pulsing. 

Immediately gasping, you felt the blood in your body drain at the revelation that you’ve fucked your ex — no, you fucked your ex of eight years, that you were still crazily hung up over that most likely had a girlfriend waiting for him to respond back to.  

Before you could think, your adrenaline pressed forward to act before your mind, immediately unlocking his hands from your naked waists, standing up too quickly only to stumble from your trembling legs. You felt something drip down your thighs — white viscous slowly running down your legs, your face heating up at the memory of last night. 

“I- I need to leave,” you whispered, quickly gathering your discarded clothes and undergarments as you rushed to the restroom, forcing down your whimpers as your sensitive cunt brushed against your thighs with every step you took.

“I can’t be here, t-this was a mistake,” you stammered while putting on your dress, quickly stuffing your used panties into your purse.

You looked like a mess, but it didn’t matter because you needed to get the hell out of there before he woke up, but somehow your feet didn’t move in the direction you wanted them to — out the door — but instead towards him unknowingly sleeping.

And quietly sitting against the edge of the bed, carefully pushing away the edges of his bangs that covered his handsome face, you decided to take a minute to absorb the last images of what you’ll have of him. And there you decided to let a tear or two drop from your eyes as you said your last goodbyes, gently kissing his lips before you made your way out the door, whispering, once again,

“I’m sorry…”

—- 

It’s been close to an hour since your walk of shame out the door. Since then you quickly checked out of your room and made your way out of the hotel. 

You immediately called for a taxi to get home, groaning as you were hit with the realities of your mistakes last night.

Treading up the stairs your legs quivered with every move. It's been a while since you've been fucked that hard, nor even had a partner that lasted so long.

You needed to text Shoko, you prayed that she didn’t blow through your notifications when you suddenly went missing last night. Sighing, you absentmindedly tried to find your phone in your bag as you punched in your door keys.

You started to think, maybe the whole fucking universe was now against you, for your sins, because your phone wasn’t in your purse.

You tried to retrace your steps to where you’d last used it as you made yourself over to your bed, stripping off your clothes as you walked over to the shower.

And to your last memory, you texted Ieiri out in the balcony… and then,

“Shit,” you hissed, remembering how your bag was tossed to the side when you were being feverishly stripped of your clothes, “it’s probably under his bed or something.”

“I hope no one calls… or tries to contact me until he leaves his room,” you groaned as the hot water massaged your tense shoulders while your fingers ran down your body.

Washing every crevice as you also tried to erase away the memory you had with him, you forced yourself to retract your tears. This was your punishment you repeated, this was the outcome of your selfishness. You lathered yourself in soap, trying to scrub away the pent-up guilt until you noticed something flash under the light.

You never wore your jewelry into the shower, you’ve always had a habit to take them off to not tarnish. 

But there was a golden ring, a ring that fits a little loosely on your promise finger.

Unable to understand why, all that circled through your mind was to go back.

Quickly washing off, throwing on any pair of clothes before running to your door, you could feel your anxious heart beating loudly in your chest as your ears started to feel plugged from the tension. And just when you’re about to open your door, you hear a buzz that silenced every chaos around you.

Looking through the peep hole, you felt faint, your heart entirely about to burst — is this reality or am i still dreaming?

“It’s me,” you heard his calm voice.

Your hands trembled as you slowly opened up the door, your eyes taking a moment to quickly scan his body — donning the same clothes as yesterday with the top buttons of his white shirt undone and ends stuffed into his slacks, his hair lightly messy and eyes a little sunken.

“How’d you get here?” you gasped with your ringed hand clenched, hidden behind your back, while the other pricked at your thumb.

“You left your phone in my room, and I found it because Ieiri was blowing up your phone," Satoru calmly stated as he handed over your phone, "so I asked where you lived to drop it off.”

“She didn’t say anything?” you warily asked

“Well, she did ask about us."

“And… did she threaten you or anything?”

“No, why would she? But,” stretching out his arms as he released groan, “I told her we fucked,” he boyishly smiled. 

Afraid to confront your messy rendezvous with him, you nervously bit your lips, and you avoided his gaze. Noticing your tendencies, you felt his hand cup your face to meet his while his thumb gently soothed your aching lip, "hey," he whispered, "don't do that."

And stepping closer to you, the mild fragrance of his shampoo dancing in your nostrils, “Did you see it?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you acknowledged, “I saw it just now while showering,” you looked into his eyes to seek an answer, tears starting to cloud your vision.

“You know, I’m not the same anymore,” he confessed, “I have power, I’m strong, and I’m able to do things now,” pressing a kiss onto your forehead, “but the only thing that stayed the same about me," chuckling as he shook his head — as if he couldn't even believe it himself.

"is that I didn’t change my number since we’ve broken up,” he stated before taking a step into your apartment, the click of his shoes hitting the tile floor echoing throughout the hallway, “I just hoped maybe one day you’ll call.”

"why?" you honestly questioned, unable to understand why he would choose to do that.

"I don't know," Satoru shrugged while pulling away, "guess I really tried to subconsciously manifest the we were fated to be bullshit that I preached."

“But that girl,” you quietly muttered while you unknowingly pouted when you saw his arms cross against his chest, the tightness of his sleeves about to burst from his muscles bulging.

“Girl… what girl?” Your comment took him aback.

“The one you were in Paris with,” your face feeling hot, embarrassed that you outed yourself for stalking him.

“You stalking me?” He chuckled while leaning against the wall, "it's not what you think," Gojo sighed as he pushed back his hair, "that girl, it was Suguru.”

Raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, sighing as he saw the unbelief in your eyes, “Here look,” he commented while pulling out his phone to show you pictures, “we went for his art exhibition or some shit because his girl couldn’t make it with him.”

“B-but you came late to the reunion.”

“Yea, because I wasn't going to pull up looking mid when I needed to make you regret ever dumping me,” he joked while pinching your cheeks, "I didn't have plans on attending until that jerk sent me a photo of you," he shamelessly confessed.

“You’re stupid,” you grasped his hand to check his finger — ringless.

“But it was worth it, no? Got you to indirectly confess,” emphasizing his last few words, “that maybe you still love me."

"Whatever," you mumbled, "I said I loved you."

"fine by me," Satoru accepted, " but the fact is that you still think I’m hot, no? Or maybe you just missed my cock? ”

“You’re crazy,” you stated while wiping your tears.

“Yea, I know,” his gaze softens as he sees you playing with his fingers, your small ones wrapped around his.

“and this ring is too big for me,” you cried as you melted in his touch, his right thumb gently rubbing against your cheeks.

“That too, I know,” he smiled stepping closer into your house, and slowly closing the door behind him, “we’ll get another one together soon, only if you'll let me.”

"I'd like that," you whispered.

“I just couldn’t get it for us when you heartlessly broke up with me eight years ago," Satoru confessed while brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

“I’m so sorry Satoru,” you snuggled your face into his strong chest, his arms tightly wrapped around you, cooing as he steadied your breaths, “Shhh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

“I’ve hurt you, I’m the one that caused all this,” you heaved as he pressed light kisses all over your face.

“Through everything,” kissing your swollen eyes, taking his time to savor your touch as his lips traveled their way back to its home, briefly kissing your ringed finger as he looked into your eyes. 

And sealing his final destination, he whispered before locking his lips with yours once more,

“I’ll always find you even if you run away because you’ll always be mine.”

author's comment: sheesh, I didn't expect this to get this long... but here it is! I wanted to write the typical exes-to-lovers trope, but I was stuck on the quote with Satoru teasing how his past partners wanted to thank the reader for teaching him how to eat pussy... and here we are over 9k words later.... oh wells

again, i hope you enjoyed it!!

p.s. i might just have one exes to lovers in the drafts for geto, as well.... hahahahaha but you didn't hear that from me, nope (,: