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#the really creepy classroom
froggychair05 · 3 months
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Minecraft: Story Mode episode six where everything is the same except Cassie Rose wears this on her head instead of a white pumpkin:
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coconutdays · 11 months
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seat taker
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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."
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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.
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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.
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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."
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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?
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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.
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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?"
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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.
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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
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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."
12K notes · View notes
lucyrose191 · 11 months
Text
OBSESSED|| J.F POTTER
Pairing; James Potter x Fem!Girlfriend!reader
Summary; It’s no secret that James Potter is absolutely obsessed with his girlfriend and he couldn’t be more in love.
Warnings; None. (Fluff.)
HP/Marauders Master List
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The entirety of Hogwarts were not ignorant of the knowledge that when James Potter loved, he loved hard and he did it with everything he had in him.
They had seen it in the way he treated his closest friends and they had most definitely seen it when they had seen him pine after Lily Evans, trying with everything in him to gain her affections.
However, after at least a hundred hairline cracks to his heart it was important to make the decision to move on from the red head before his heart broke in two.
It was hard to believe that the Potter boy had truly decided to put the red head behind him, even his friends weren’t really sure they believed him but it just so happened that the boy was telling the truth.
He no longer put on grand performances professing his love, no longer sent gifts via owl flying through the Great Hall and no longer tried to ask out Lily on a date.
Instead he took time to focus on himself, his studies and his friends.
It turns out that when your entire focus is simply on the girl you thought was the love of your life and pranking others it could really affect a person’s grades and so when Minnie had suggested the idea of a tutor he happily agreed with her, he wanted to prove that he really was serious about his studies and his future, not just to his professors but to his parents too.
He wanted to be more than a spoilt, rich boy that got handed everything he could ever need.
He wanted to earn the opportunities he was being given.
Lucky for him, he got a lot more than he was bargaining for when he walked into McGonagall’s classroom that day to find you sitting at one of the desks with your head stuck in a book, waiting for him.
Not only did his grades start skyrocketing but he found that with each tutoring session he spent with you a weight began to grow in his chest, only growing heavier with each moment you spent together.
He’d begin to look forward to seeing you there waiting for him, hair messily pulled back away from your face, eyes narrowed in concentration as you read whatever book you had with you that week, he thought you were adorable.
Slowly, he had accepted the fact that he did indeed, have a crush on you.
He approached it differently than he had with Lily though, instead of grand gestures and eccentric performances, he instead settled for subtle acts of service and innocent touches.
An entire two months he had spent sending subtle glances your way, asking innocent questions to get to know you better, strategically taking notice in the way you’d react to his minor compliments or soothing touches to try and find out if you in some way felt the same.
He thought you did, you had to, right?
He wasn’t imagining the way your cheeks would turn pink when he brushed his hand against you or the way you’d shyly refuse eye contact with him when he looked at you a certain way.
He couldn’t have been imagining it.
He wasn’t. When he eventually bit the bullet and asked you out on a date he couldn’t believe it when you had agreed.
A night spent in the Astronomy Tower with your favourite snacks as you talks for hours and watched the stars had been the start of it all.
There was no doubt about it that James Potter loved you, Hogwarts had never seen him happier.
"He’s doing it again," Sirius groaned, seeing the way James was sitting with his head rested against his palm, seemingly in a daydream as he stared across the hall at you.
It would’ve been deemed creepy if they didn’t know he was staring at his girlfriend, you.
"Leave him alone, Padfoot, he’s in love," Remus teased, briefly glancing up from the novel he was reading, it amazed him every time at just how easy it was to read the emotions swimming in his friend’s hazel eyes.
"He was never like this with Lily," Peter piped up through a mouth of pastry.
Sirius gave him a look of disgust before commenting "He doesn’t even know who Lily is anymore, there’s only two women that exist to our Prongs here and those are his mother and the girl he’s currently staring holes into."
There was no indication that James had heard Sirius’ words but he suddenly jumped up from his seat, startling his three friends. "I need to go give Y/N a hug before she forgets about me." He briefly explained before hurrying towards his girl.
"What the fuck is wrong with him?" Sirius mutters in disbelief, all three of them turning to stare at where you were now in James’ arms, looking up at him with a loving smile.
There was no lie in the saying that Potter’s only fall in life once, they just first need to learn the difference between love and infatuation.
He had been infatuated with Lily, but he was beyond in love with you.
5K notes · View notes
wolken-himmel · 1 year
Text
In which (Y/n) finds a doll that bears a strange resemblance to Vil. The two enjoy some tea until Ace and Deuce show up to cause some ruckus.
The doll turns out to be the real Vil when (Y/n) accidentally kisses it.
Requested by @akemiozawa.
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"(Y/n)? What are you doing?"
You turned your gaze to the door of the Ramshackle living door as if you had been caught red-handed at the crime scene. Your eyes fell on none other than Ace and Deuce, whose gazes were trained at the blond doll seated across from you. They continued to stare at the two cups of tea on the coffee table, a steaming pot in between them.
"Having afternoon tea with my friend," you said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Ignoring their presence, you took another sip from your cup.
Ace stared at the doll owlishly, then he broke out into laughter. "That's a doll, (Y/n)," he wheezed and almost doubled over.
"Shut up," you said with a roll of your eyes. "Don't hurt Vil's feelings like that."
Your words prompted the most confusion-laced gaze you had ever received from Deuce. "I hate to break it to you, (Y/n). But that's not Vil. That's a doll." The blue-haired boy hesitated for a moment as his eyes scanned the doll curiously. He quirked an eyebrow in realisation. "Although... that doll does look a lot like Vil. Did you make it yourself?"
The doll possessed the same brilliant blond hair with purplish tips that the Pomefiore dorm leader was known for. And its eyes were a soft lavender hue, too. But what was most unnerving was the way the doll carried itself: It possessed the same confidence and elegance that Vil himself exuded. Shoulders not slouched at all and with its chin raised high, the doll seemed to look down upon Ace and Deuce.
"I found the doll in one of the classrooms," you explained fondly. "And since Vil is too busy to spend time with me like always, I've decided to entertain myself with this mini-version of him. He has quite grown on me. So adorable and soft!"
"I've always found dolls creepy..." Deuce began to shudder, averting his gaze from the doll.
Slowly but surely, Ace's lips morphed into a smug grin. The red-head crossed his arms and began snickering. "You take better care of that doll than of Grim."
"That's not true!" An offended huff escaped your lips. "I just sometimes need a break from Grim," you murmured under your breath. Then you took another sip from your cup, planning to ignore the two troublemakers for now. You still had hopes to have a lovely time with the doll Vil.
Yet your plans were thrown out of the window when Ace suddenly let out a frightened shriek. "Ew! The doll just bit me!" he yelled in fear and, unable to stop his reflexes, threw the doll at the wall.
An unimpressed frown appeared on Deuce's face as he watched his scared friend. "Dolls can't bite, Ace..."
"No, really. It bit me," Ace insisted, trembling. "Are you sure it's just a regular doll, (Y/n)?"
"Now that you say it, Ace... The doll does emit a strange aura of magic," his blue-haired friend muttered after a while.
The doll lay motionlessly on the ground after having been thrown at the wall. Although it faced the ground, the doll seemed to be at least in one piece and without any other notable damage. You immediately rushed over to the doll and picked it up into your arms like a worried mother hen.
"Stop throwing around my little boy like that!" you yelled at the two Heartslabyul students. Meanwhile, you cradled the doll in your arms. "Come now, Vil. You're okay. I'll protect you."
"Stop coddling that cursed doll!" Ace sneered, trying to hide his fear.
A soft sigh escaped your lips while you ran your fingers through the doll's silky hair. Within a few seconds, the doll looked like new. But still, its expression seemed to have morphed into an angry scowl when before, it was a confident smile. "Did your face hit the wall when Ace threw you?" you asked as you noticed the doll's sour expression. "My poor baby, come on... I'll kiss it better..."
You carefully brought the doll to your eye-level. Your two friends were about to call you a freak for kissing a doll, but as your lips made contact with the porcelain of the doll, you felt its small body shift and twist into something else. Your lungs constricted when a puff of violet smoke filled the living room of the Ramshackle dorm. Violent coughs escaped your lips.
A round of gasps echoed around the room once the smoke had cleared up. You three first-years couldn't help but stare at the tall blond male standing there in all his glory. His hands rested on his hips as he stared down the two Heartslabyul students, blaming them for the red bruise on his forehead.
"Vil?!" you three cried out in unison.
Ace let out a cheer despite the precarious situation he was stuck in. "Hah! I knew the doll was cursed."
Embarrassment heated up your cheeks, and you couldn't help but avert your gaze to the ground. All the hours you had spent cuddling the doll and taking care of it, he seemed to remember. You gulped, unable to face Vil. "You... were that doll?"
"What were you thinking, throwing me around like a rag doll, potato?" Vil hissed out like a venomous snake that was about to devour Ace.
"I didn't know it was you! You were a rag doll literally!"
Deuce still couldn't even begin to understand the situation. His eyes kept darting between the three other inhabitants of the room. "How did this even happen?"
Vil let out a sigh, but his frown lessened when you brought him a pack of ice. His long fingers pressed the soothing coldness to his bruised forehead. "I don't know. Epel must have slipped something into my water to get away again. I never realised he was capable to something this potent though... I am quite proud of him," he explained and sat down in the chair the doll had previously occupied.
"Uhm... But I hope you still enjoyed the tea time, Vil..." A nervous smile graced your lips as you finally managed to summon the courage to look him in the eyes.
A little chuckle escaped the dorm leader's lips. "I did, dear. We shall repeat this again some time. It was quite nice to be forced to take a break from my hectic schedule." He took a sip from his previously untouched cup of tea. His tense muscles relaxed immediately. "Your presence is quite soothing, I must admit. Everything was okay until these two potatoes showed up."
"Hey! You bit me!" Ace huffed in dismay.
The room suddenly grew cold when Vil cleared his throat threateningly. "Perhaps I should turn you two into dolls and throw you around, too?" the Pomefiore dorm leader asked coldly.
"Vil, it's okay," you whispered and placed your hand on his arm. "Stress isn't good for your skin, remember?"
At your words, Vil's apprehension towards your friends seemed to die down. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he rolled his shoulders tiredly. "Fine, potato. But only because it's you. Now, I'd like more tea, please."
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luvsupa · 17 days
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a/n: writing this bc uni just started for me and I hope this happens to me in class </3 (minus the embarrassing part)
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choso sat in the back of the lecture hall, his oversized headphones blasting music so loud you could hear the faint beat, despite being seated right next to him. you tried to focus on the professor up front, but the heavy metal practically vibrated through your brain. with a huff, you paused your typing, your long acrylic nails hovering above the keys, and turned to look at him—now admiring his looks.
his head bobbed along with the music, thick fingers scribbling notes on his large ipad. his hands were adorned with chrome heart rings, matching perfectly with his facial piercings, and every time you saw him, he had on new jewelry that just made him… more attractive. this time, instead of his usual two buns, his hair was down, cascading past his shoulders. god, he looked good like that. you really wanted to tell him to keep his hair down more often, but just being near him made your heart race too fast to even speak.
he was all dressed in black, chunky doc martens completing his look, and you hadn’t realized how long you’d been staring at him until he paused his music, sliding one side of his headphones off to look at you. your heart stopped.
“is my music too loud?” he asked softly, his voice catching you completely off guard. it was… sweet? you blinked, your laptop screen dimming as it fell asleep, just like your focus.
“just a bit,” you mumbled, watching as he grabbed his phone, sliding down the volume with a smile that made your body melt.
“i like you…” the words slipped out before you could stop them.
choso froze, one hand halfway to his headphones, looking at you like you’d just confessed. which… you basically did.
“i-i mean, i like your outfit!” you squeaked, heat flooding your body as your hands became sweaty as you mentally slapped yourself. choso just stared, eyebrows raised.
“n-not that i wouldn’t like you!” you scrambled to explain, your voice lowering to avoid the stares from the people sitting nearby. “i-it just slipped out, i swear!”
choso’s lips twitched, his amusement barely contained as he fully took off his headphones, leaning in slightly as if to hear you better. why not tease her, he thinks
“ohh, i see. so, you wouldn’t like me, huh? that’s a little harsh.” his voice took on a mock-hurt tone, but the teasing glint in his eyes was undeniable.
you gasped, totally falling for it. “no! i didn’t mean it like that! cho’, i’m so—”
wait.
you froze. did you just call him “cho’”? you definitely had never exchanged names, much less nicknames! your face drained of colour as choso smirked, clearly enjoying your panic.
“cho’?” he raised a brow, his lip piercing catching the light. “didn’t know we were close like that.” he chuckled, low and teasing. “but i don’t mind. it’s cute.”
you wanted to melt into the floor. the secondhand embarrassment from the other students was evident, and your heart was pounding too hard to think straight. you shot up from your seat, nearly knocking over your bag in your rush to escape. all eyes were on you as you bolted out the back of the classroom, face burning with mortification.
you sprinted to the nearest bathroom, slamming the door behind you as you leaned against the sink. “oh my gosh,” you groaned, covering your face with your hands. he was totally going to think you were a stalker now. you’d found his instagram before it went private, and you’d seen his younger brother yuji calling him “cho’” in the comments. you were doomed.
meanwhile, back in the classroom, choso couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. he found your flustered state adorable—he didn’t think you were creepy at all. in fact, he wished you’d stayed a little longer so he could keep teasing you. with a soft chuckle, he tore a piece of paper from his artbook from his bag and scribbled down his number quickly as he placed the torn paper on your laptop.
“you can always call me cho’ ;)”
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tragedyslut · 3 months
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“ the rumours, are terrible and cruel but honey most of them are true. “
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𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒 : you had had an only fans since you turned 18. it was an easy way to make money! creepy men paying for your pics, blissfully unaware that you're a raging dyke who'd never even dream of getting with someone like them. you never used your real name, or showed your face, only your body. so everything was fine.
𝑚𝑒𝑛 𝑑𝑛𝑖, 𝑏𝑖𝑚𝑏𝑜!𝑓𝑒𝑚 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟, 𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑟!𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑚𝑠, 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛!𝑠𝑢𝑏 𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑒, 𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝑙𝑚𝑎𝑜, 𝑓𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 <3
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ellie was tediously scrolling through various websites, some porn, some just normal shit. she ended up stumbling across an Instagram account, which had an OF account attached. she was morbidly curious, since the girl behind the account was drop dead gorgeous. she couldn't see her face, or any defining features other than a heart tattoo on her shoulder. it was a light pink, with wings. it looked distinctive, and adorable. but she ended up scrolling through some of the posts. there were only a few free, most of them were behind the paywall. (much to ellies dismay)
she was fully captivated by the girl. she was so fucking gorgeous, and her cunt was pooling just at the sight of the limited photos (most of which showed barely anything). she had to fully talk herself out of buying a subscription, telling herself over and over again that it wasn't worth it. it was just some girl that she didn't even know, for all she knew, it could be some creepy man behind the account, who was just scamming people with pics of a hot girl. yeah, that was it.
in the morning, her horny ass was still thinking about that girl. she got ready for her classes, not being able to focus so hard that she put her shirt on back to front twice.
she just barley made it out the door in time for classes, stumbling her way along. she ended up taking the long roure, just wandering around campus a bit to try and clear her head of the horrendously sexualized thoughts she had about the random internet stranger. she thought to herself many times that she was insane, and to be fair she might be. she really hadn't ever been with any girl, so she was just a tad bit desperate.
when she wandered her way to class, she first caught eyes with a girl. she was pretty, just as pretty, if not prettier than the girl she'd been foaming over last night. she ended up choosing the seat right next to her. maybe the girl would talk to her!
you were quietly sitting in class, waiting for it to start when a girl with medium length hair perched herself next to you. she looked like a nervous wreck. she was staring through your soul. you just minded your own business, trying not to look over at her because she scared you a bit. that was until, she tapped you on the shoulder.
when ellie finally got the confidence to tap you on the shoulder to ask for a pen, she was practically vibrating out of her seat with pure fear.
" c-can.. can i borrow a pen? " she whispered, as if god would strike her down for merely talking to you.
" ..yea, sure. " you said, a bit freaked out but just passing her a pen and going back to working. you slipped off your jacket, since it was hot as hell in the damn classroom, adjusting your tank top.
ellie looked up from her work, only to be met with the sight of the light pink heart tattoo on your shoulder..with wings.
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𝑝𝑡2
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taglist hotties!!
@fakevalentine
@toosweetfm
@pr1nc3ss-sc4r
@claymoreshaze
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cloudshuffle · 3 months
Note
What are some of the nasty/creepy things they do to reader in the nobility au? Like the book sniffing thing
arranged by least to most creepy >:)
nobility au
boothill
something about boothill tells me that he’s not very capable of being nasty. or more like he’s not interested in it? he’s a straightforward guy, much preferring to meet you face to face and be in your presence, even if you do always tell him that you’re busy! he knows that’s untrue.
the most boothill has done was follow you around, sussing out your daily schedule with ease. he is a bounty hunter, after all, and a high-profile little miss such as yourself is no trouble for him at all. he tells himself that he’s just another bodyguard, protecting you from the shadows, but all the while he longs to be out in the daylight, enjoying the town with you.
boothill’s not so much creepy than persistent to me, like a puppy left out in the rain that you really can’t adopt but keeps returning to paw at your door. and eventually you have to give in some time, which brings him more joy than anything else in the world.
aventurine
yes, apart from the book sniffing, i imagine he does a lot of sniffing besides, like burying his nose into your hair or kissing your neck and inhaling deeply. (isn’t it said that women apply perfume where they want to be kissed?)
if we want to talk even creepier, maybe he once snuck into the laundry under the guise of ensuring the maids were working and nabbed a piece of your clothing. doesn’t need to be your underwear - i imagine he’d be happy with something more innocent, like a glove. it’s oddly romantic, the way he holds it to his face while sleeping, like it’s your real hand he’s holding.
in the grand scheme of things, i think aventurine isn’t that bad. it could really be worse.
sunday
he watches.
truly, he stands in corners and shadowy alcoves, doing nothing but watching you go about your day. he pops up in places where you least expect him, like, say, the stables. and when he’s cooped up inside the palace with paperwork to do, sunday contents himself by watching you from the windows, laughing and chatting with friends. you’ll often feel someone’s gaze prickling on the back of your neck, but when you look around, you won’t be able to find anyone there. one of sunday’s many talents.
you’d better bet there’s been at least one occasion where he watched you take a bath - god knows how, but at least he did it with a lot of embarrassed blushing on his part. not to say that that’s stopped him ever.
there’s something very special to him about being able to inspect you like an unrefined gemstone under a magnifying glass. 10/10 would not recommend him in your house.
dr. ratio
now hear me out. he is not only a nerd, he is also a nerd with an overinflated ego. meaning that he can, and will, gaslight you into thinking he’s normal.
this sounds ridiculous but stay with me.
you’re having your typical one-on-one lesson with dr ratio. aventurine isn’t present as usual because he’s just going to be a nuisance, so it’s just you and your demanding tutor. he gives you some time to write up a short paragraph, and you lower your head and focus on the assignment.
ratio comes over to see what you have so far. he makes a brief comment. you nod and move to make changes. and suddenly you freeze, feeling fingers on the back of your neck.
you face feels hot. had you imagined it? wasn’t that a completely inappropriate move on his part? should you speak up?
as the professor moves toward the front of the classroom again, he acts like absolutely nothing just happened, raising an eyebrow. “are you feeling alright? your face looks warm.”
and you shake your head quickly, fanning yourself in embarrassment. no way he’d have the nerve to do something like that to do you. after all, he was your tutor… he’d be smarter than to jeopardise his position like that.
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allfearstofallto · 6 months
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Shy Wanderer who spots you at the Akademiya and develops a crush embarrassingly quick. You, a fellow student in another department caught his attention and suddenly his heart won't stop pounding, his mouth goes dry, and worst of all, his face turns such an obnoxious shade of red. He takes to turning his head down so that the wide brim of his hat covers his face whenever you're near, he'd rather not see you at all, than to have such an embarrassing expression be what you see on his face.
You think he hates you at first. The way he'll always look down or away when you're around feels like something you'd do to someone you don't like. But you constantly heard tales of the new transfer student, the one who's essays were causing a storm amongst the Akademiya and who's beauty was like that of a painting. Both of which were things you could never partake in, when you went to approach him, he'd turn his head down, covering his face with that gaudy hat, and excuse himself away.
He essentially avoids you like the plague, the way you make his heart beat out of control is an issue that he hates, yet he still finds himself drawn to places he knows you'll be at. The library in your department, the greenhouse where you gather medicinal herbs, the lab where you often experiment on the local fauna of the Sumeru. He always tries to be there to steal a glance at you before you can look at him, feeling oddly creepy by what he's doing, but not knowing what else to do.
Wanderer is doing his usual routine, finding you just outside of the classrooms with a book in your hand. You look incredible with the light of the large windows beaming down on your face, your eyes sparkling as they take in every word on the page. He looks at you and you take his breath away, you always leave him completely breathless with your beauty. When you feel the eyes on you and look around, he puts his head down again. Only this time, he does it too hard, too aggressively, too fast. His hat falls right off his head.
Indigo hair tousled and without his shade to cover him, he's even more flustered than before, unable to do anything to hide from your gaze now. He peaks up at you through squinted eyes, trying to gander what your expression is, but being unable to make it out. You step closer to him, finally letting him bask in your scent, you smell of confectionary and grass and your skin, he can feel the warmth coming off of it.
There's a silence on both of you as he feels himself wanting to slink back away from you. Why are you quietly staring at him like that? He curses his heart for beating so loudly, he can barely hear. After what feels like hours of silence, of you just taking in every inch of his blushing face, you finally speak.
"You really are beautiful,"
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heeology · 1 year
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god, you're annoying | l.hs
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synopsis → ever since you and heeseung have come into each others' lives, he has been asking you out and flirting with you nonstop. for years, the cycle of him confessing his feelings to you and you rejecting every single one of his advances seems as though it has gone on forever. being fed up, you develop a plan to pretend as though you already have a boyfriend (spoiler alert: it doesn’t end well). after years of continuously trying to get heeseung off of your radar, you just can’t seem to get rid of him and suddenly (to your surprise), you find yourself not being bothered as much by his presence.
feat. → yeonjun (txt), yunjin (le sserafim), beomgyu (txt), minjeong (aespa), jake (enhypen), sunghoon (enhypen), jay (enhypen)
genre → university AU, enemies to lovers, romance, smut
pairing → nonidol!heeseung x fem!reader
warnings → MDNI, kinda long but bear w me pls
w.c. → 9k
disclaimer!! → any other idols mentioned in this story (that I portray are dating) i do not ship irl; this story is a work of fiction a.k.a. something derived from my delusions and imagination, take this story lightly pls and thx.
!!DO NOT COPY OR REPOST!!
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Everyday you walk onto campus and make sure you avoid eye contact with a “certain someone” and even though the outcome always remains the same, you still hope that one day it will actually make a difference. Unfortunately for you, on your campus, there is only one way to get to your morning class which makes this “certain someone” rather happy to know that you practically have to see him everyday. Although you try your best, he never fails to call out your name, even if you try hiding behind other people; he can spot you from a mile away. This, you find to be annoying. He, however, looks forward to this moment every day because what other reason is there to get up early in the morning if it means he doesn’t get to see you?
You hear him call after you as you try to quickly make your way to your first class which, luckily for you, does not include him. You can hear his footsteps hurrying towards you making you break out into a light jog to your classroom door that is just ahead. You reach for the door handle and open it just enough to let yourself in and as you are about to close it behind you, a hand from the other side stops you, forcing it back open enough for you to be face-to-face with the one and only bane of your existence: Lee Heeseung.
He gives you a cocky smile receiving an eye roll from you as you can already hear his irritating voice begin to say a bunch of sentences and words that you couldn’t care any less about because you couldn’t care any less about him. Heeseung is fully aware about how you feel about him and although some most of his actions are–-yes, he’ll admit–-advertently creepy, he means no harm. You, of course, don’t see it that way, but that doesn’t stop him. 
“You didn’t hear me calling your name?” he asks, knowing that you did and also knowing that you ignored him, but he just wants to hear any snarky reply you have because that’s the only time when you actually acknowledge his presence. 
“Nope, must’ve missed it.” you say in a fake sympathetic tone. 
He lets out a “hmm” and you mock him. He smirks, leaning a little closer to you. You would move away, but then you figured he might take that as his chance to open the door more, so you decide to stay put. 
“I was just wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me. There is this restaurant that my family and I only go to on special occasions and I think you’ll really like it.”
There it is, him asking you to the same stupid restaurant that you have said no to many (and you mean many) times before. You know what restaurant he is talking about, some way overpriced place that only really rich people go to. You clenched your jaw as your hand gripped the edge of the door a little tighter. He smiled at you, which you thought was him being smug, but rather it was him anticipating your answer. He meant what he said and he just wants to be given a chance to show you how much he likes you. 
Him asking you out to this restaurant, always offering to buy your lunch, pay for your snacks, or buy you some other object just felt as him rubbing his money in your face, making all of his attempts seem as though they are a joke; that you are a joke. Ever since middle school, when you and Heeseung had first met, he made his “crush” on you apparent, which all of the other kids found to be funny and ridiculous. You know he doesn’t actually like you and you hate him for still acting like this even though you both are now grown adults and not eleven year old children who still ride in the car with their parent on their way to school everyday. 
“Well, if you think I’ll like it, then I’ll surely hate it.” you reply.
“You’re only saying that be-”
“No, Heeseung, I will not go out with you and for the last time: stop bothering me.” you say sternly.
You scowl at him and he can’t help but find you to be adorable. He knows you’re annoyed by him, but there isn’t anyone else he would rather spend his time with other than you, even if his only way to spend time with you is by pestering you constantly. 
“I’m just going to ask you again tomorrow.” he says with a smile.
You knew he wasn’t joking about that and that made your blood begin to boil. You hated having to be bothered by him, you hated feeling like a joke, you hated seeing his stupid face everyday, and you hated how it seems like he doesn't even care. You have to put a stop to this, you simply can’t take it anymore. But how? You’ve tried everything, what other way could there possibly be? Then it clicked. You stood up straighter, looking him directly in his eyes. He found himself a little taken aback by your sudden eye contact, but didn’t want to show it; to show how you make him flustered and blush just by simply looking at him.
“Heeseung, I have a boyfriend.” you say, trying not to smile.
You don’t know how you didn’t think of this before, but you’re overjoyed that the idea finally came. His smile drops–for a split second–as he felt the wind practically get knocked out of him like someone had just suckerpunched him in the gut. You were bluffing, you had to be…right?
“Pfft, I don’t believe you.” he says, letting go of the door, only to cross his arms and lean against the doorframe.
You feel your face become hot as you stand your ground, “And what exactly makes you say that?”
“I’ve never seen you with your “boyfriend”.” he says, making air quotes.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t have one.”
“Well it surely doesn’t mean that you do.”
“I know you stalk me because you have nothing better to do with your life, but that doesn’t mean you know what I do every second of the day.”
He shrugs his shoulders, not buying a word that you are saying. He keeps telling himself that you are lying, but what if that small percentage of possibility actually means you are telling the truth? He doesn’t want to think about that, he has to believe that you are lying.
“Okay, what’s his name, then?” he asks, confident that you won’t have an answer.
Shit. How do you answer that? You try not to show your worry in your expression and quickly try to come up with an answer. You open your mouth to speak, hoping the words that do end up coming out make sense.
“Yeonjun.” you reply.
Well, you said a name and that’s all that counts. Sure, it’s the name of your best friend’s boyfriend, but she won’t mind if you use him for a lie…right? Now it’s Heeseung’s turn for him to clench his jaw. He scoffs, rolling his eyes before looking back at you.
“Then how come I’ve never seen you with him on campus?”
“Because he goes to another school, idiot.”
“How did you two meet?”
“Through my best friend; they go to school together.”
You could see him become more annoyed with your answers as you tried to say them with as much confidence as possible. 
“I still don’t believe you.” he says, less certain of what he is saying than before.
You’re so close and you know it, you just need to say something that will make him back-off once and for all.
“I’ll have him bring me to school tomorrow.” you said, now being the one to cross your arms as you smiled smugly.
Heeseung felt his blood run cold, terror now coursing through his veins. Were you actually telling the truth? He didn’t want to see you with some other guy, most definitely not someone who you are claiming to be your boyfriend. The thought made him both upset and annoyed. What do they have that he doesn’t? He’s the one who has been trying to show how much he likes you for years now and some rando comes in and sweeps you off of your feet? Over his dead body.
“Okay,” he says while standing up from leaning on the door, “I can’t wait to see you and a bunch of air walk into school tomorrow.”
“You still think I’m lying?”
He shrugs his shoulders, looking away before looking back at you.
“I just find it hard to believe.”
“That I have a boyfriend?”
“You could say that.”
Man, you couldn’t wait to prove him wrong (even though he is technically right). You fake laugh at his reply and stop as you grab his hand. He feels butterflies erupt in his stomach from your sudden contact and is so distracted that he isn’t even paying attention to what you are doing, which is putting his hand on the door frame. You plaster on a fake smile before quickly swinging the door shut. He snaps out of his daze and moves his hand out of the way just in time before it could have been smashed by the door. 
-
Beomgyu didn’t think to even hold back his laughter once the words left your mouth and although the music in the club was blaring through the speakers, you could still hear his piercing voice. The others, however, were a little more surprised to hear what you had said, especially Yunjin and Yeonjun. You had a guilty smile on your face as you exchanged glances between the two and then Yeonjun scoffed. He raised his glass in a ‘cheers’ manner and Yunjin slapped his shoulder.
“It’s honestly not that bad of a plan,” Minjeong says, trying to defuse the tension, “Yunjin, you know better than any of us here how badly this guy bothers her.”
Yunjin sighs before she chugs the rest of her drink from her cup. “You can borrow my boyfriend on one condition: it doesn’t go too far.” She says, pointing between you and Yeonjun. 
You both look at each other and cringe. Yeonjun puts his arm around Yunjin and she smiles. He kisses her temple, “As if that would ever happen.”
“So how exactly are you going to convince him?” Yunjin asks.
You chug the rest of your drink, wincing as the alcohol burns your throat. “Is it cool if Yeonjun takes me to school tomorrow? I was thinking all he has to do is walk me to my class and just essentially tell Heeseung to back off.”
“He’s not going to do it unless he believes it.” Beomgyu points out as he leans back into the booth.
“He’s right, him walking you into school isn’t going to be enough to convince him; he sounds persistent.” Minjeong agrees.
“The most he is allowed to do is kiss you on the cheek to make it believable, but that’s it.” Yunjin says looking at Yeonjun to make sure he understands.
“I don’t get a say in whether or not I agree to this?” Yeonjun asks, looking at everyone, but landing on you.
“No.” the rest of you say in unison.
He laughs before finishing his drink. “Okay. I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”
-
Even as Yeonjun pulls his motorcycle to a stop in front of your campus, he can still feel your fingernails practically digging into his stomach. 
He lifts up the visor on his helmet, “Can you please stop trying to claw your way into my intestines?”
You let go of him all together and he lets out the breath that he has been holding in. 
“Sorry.” you say, it sounding muffled under the helmet. He smiles, taking off his helmet after getting off the bike. He sets his helmet down and holds out his hand for you to take. You take it, him helping you off, before he helps you take off the helmet. “Thanks.” you say and he shrugs his shoulders as a reply. 
He glances over his shoulder, noticing people looking at him and you, whispering. “So, which one is the stalker?” he asks, trying to be discreet.
You turn your head to look, not seeing Heeseung anywhere, oddly enough. You scoff, “The one day he isn’t here is the day that you bring me.” you roll your eyes and Yeonjun shrugs.
“Well, see you later.”
“Woah-wait. I still need you to walk me.” you say, grabbing one of his shoulders to stop him from leaving.
“What? Why? You just said he isn’t here.”
“That doesn’t mean that I don’t need reinforcements.”
Yeonjun groans, but turns back around to face your campus. You clear your throat before reaching to hold his hand. You intertwine your fingers, looking at each other through the corners of your eyes, confirming that you’re ready to go. You walk hesitantly at first, but the further you get, Yeonjun releases his hand from yours to put his arm around you. Low and behold, once you made your way to the front of your class, Heeseung was there waiting right beside the door.
He, of course, hadn’t been there the whole time. He was pacing back and forth in the bathroom before working up the courage to actually make his way to your class, a part of him hoping he had just missed you so he wouldn’t actually have to see you with someone else. Yet there you are, walking up to him (well, your class), with some dude who looked like he was trying too hard to be cool with his arm around you. He felt sick and the closer you came, the more he felt like vomiting. 
You smiled, stopping in front of your class door with Yeonjun. 
“Oh Heeseung, you’re actually here, I thought you chickened out.”
He smiles, annoyed. His gaze shifts over to Yeonjun and Yeonjun smirks.
“So this is Heeseung?” He asks, eyeing him up and down.
Heeseung pokes his tongue in the side of his cheek. He looks back at Yeonjun and eyes him up and down before crossing his arms. Although he currently feels sick to his stomach, he’s still a little suspicious. 
“Am I supposed to believe you’re her boyfriend?”
Yeonjun scoffs, crossing his arms, “You can believe what you want,” he steps closer to Heeseung, leaning close to his ear making Heeseung tense up, “but you better stop messing with her regardless.”
He pulls back, smiling at Heeseung and patting one of his shoulders. Heeseung scowls, wiping off his shoulder as Yeonjun turns to you. You smile at him, ignoring Heeseungs glares.
“Have a good day, babe.” he says before kissing you on your cheek. He glances back over his shoulder before snickering at Heeseung and walking away.
You smile proudly at Heeseung while he looks at you in complete and utter shock. Did he just see what he think he just saw? He couldn’t believe it, he didn’t want to believe it. 
“Well,” you say, making him snap out of his thoughts, “you heard him: stop bothering me.” you say before going into your class.
-
“I heard from some people that he has a motorcycle and he brought her on it today.” Jake says while taking some food off of Sunghoon’s tray, earning a glare from him.
Heeseung rolls his eyes, clenching his fork harder in his hand. “I don’t get it, he’s not even her type.”
Sunghoon laughs and Heeseung scowls at him. “How would you know? You’re not exactly close with her.”
“I think it’s time for you to just leave her alone, you’ve been bugging her since we were kids.” Jay comments.
Heeseung goes quiet. Should he give up? He reminisces about the time he first saw you, laughing with your friend, and the only thing he could think about was how pretty you look when you smile. He isn’t the type to hide how he feels and he thought you would be pleasantly surprised by how open he is about how he feels about you, but when you rejected him after he bought you your favorite drink, he was confused. He didn’t want to give up, though, because all he wanted was to be able to make you laugh just like when he first saw you.
“Jay’s right, the joke has gone on for long enough.” Jake adds.
Heeseung looks up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Joke? What are you talking about?”
Before Jake can answer, a girl walks up and takes a seat in one of the open chairs at the table. Everyone’s eyes go to her as she smiles.
“Hi,” she says shyly, “Heeseung, can I speak with you privately?”
“No, thanks.” he replies, continuing to eat his food.
Jake tries to suppress his laugh and Jay kicks him from under the table. Jake’s smile falls as he kicks Jay back.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” Jay warns.
“You started it.” Jake mumbles.
“Well, I was just wondering,” everyone looks back at the girl, momentarily forgetting she was even there, “if you would like to get coffee with me after school.” she says, moving some of her hair behind her ear.
“No, thanks.” Heeseung says in the same uninterested tone as before, not bothering to spare her another glance as he continues eating.
She sits there, a little taken aback as an awkward silence settles. Sunghoon clears his throat before taking another bite of his food. The girl stands up and walks away, not bothering to push back in the chair; Jay and Jake watch her as she leaves.
“She was cute, why did you say no?” Jake asks.
“We know why.” Jay says, drinking some of his water.
“You’ve been turning down every girl that asks you out for years, don’t you want to at least try and date someone?” Jake asks.
Heeseung groans and sets down his fork. “What’s the point? No one else is worth the time.”
-
“You all should have seen his face.” Yeonjun beams as you and your friend group continue roaming throughout the mall.
“So, it worked?” Minjeong questioned and you nodded your head happily.
“I didn’t see him for the rest of the day and he didn’t say anything else once Yeonjun left.” you replied happily.
“And there was nothing more than a kiss on the cheek?” Yunjin questioned.
“Of course.” Yeonjun says, kissing her quickly.
You and the others groan as they both just smile at each other. 
“Oh!” Minjeong says, grabbing your hand. You look at her and then the store she was looking at, “They finally restocked the perfume I was telling you about.”
“I can’t afford that.”
She rolls her eyes, “You can’t, but I can, now come on.” she says, pulling you with her.
“I’d rather not be stuck with you two sickos, so I’m going to go with them.” Beomgyu states to Yunjin and Yeonjun before heading off to follow you and Minjeong. 
Yeonjun grimaces and mocks Beomgyu as he walks off and Yunjin laughs.
As much as Heeseung would rather have gone home straight after classes than come to the mall to help Jake pick out a new keyboard, he came anyway due to his friend’s consistent pestering. 
“You’re paying me back for gas money, I hope you know that.” Heeseung mumbles.
Jake scoffs, “You’re richer than I am, besides, friends carpool other friends.” Heeseung rolls his eyes as he and Jake make their way to the store. Heeseung opens his mouth to say something, but is caught off guard by loud giggling coming across from where he and Jake are. Both of them look in the direction of where the noise is coming from to see Yeonjun and Yunjin laughing, her hitting his shoulder playfully and him scattering kisses on her face. Heeseung stops dead in his tracks. Jake stops walking and looks between Heeseung and the couple. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
Heeseung could feel anger surging through his body. Isn’t that guy your boyfriend? Why was he so publicly flirting with this other girl? Is he cheating on you? Unknown to him, Heeseung was walking towards the two, blinded by rage. Jake tries to call after him, but it just sounded like static to Heeseung. Jake rushes to catch up to him, trying to figure out what he was going to do and why he was even doing something in the first place. Heeseung stands in front of Yeonjun, making both Yeonjun and Yunjin turn their attention towards him.
“Shit.” Yeonjun mumbles.
Heeseung didn’t have the patience to ask any questions, he knew he was right in the first place. This guy had some nerve to hurt you like this, so before anyone had another chance to say a word, Heeseung clenched his hand into a fist and punched Yeonjun in the face.
“What the hell!?” Yunjin exclaims, grabbing onto Yeonjun’s arm as he falls to the ground.
Heeseung didn’t pay any attention to the throbbing pain from his hand and raises his fist to punch him again, but Jake stops him. Yeonjun touches his face, blood dripping from his nose as he looks up at Heeseung, clenching his jaw in anger.
“You son of a b-”
“Don’t start with that, you’re the one cheating.”
Yunjin scoffs and stands up to slap Heeseung. “You have some nerve to punch my boyfriend, asshole.”
“What the hell is going on?” Beomgyu questions as you, him, and Minjeong come out from the store.
You look around to see the chaos that has ensued as well as people starting to crowd around all of you.
“This idiot punched my boyfriend because he thinks he’s cheating on you.” Yunjin says shooting you a glare as she helps Yeonjun off of the floor.
“You did what?” you turn to Heeseung.
“Isn’t he your boyfriend? Why aren’t you upset that he’s cheating on you?” Heeseung asks, confused and starting to feel the pain from his hand as the adrenaline and anger start to subside.
You open your mouth to say something, but Yunjin interrupts you. “Maybe because he isn’t actually her boyfriend.”
Heeseung looks between you and her, confused.
“Bu-”
“They only pretended to be dating because she wanted you to back off.” Yunjin seethed.
Heeseung wasn’t sure how to process all of this information, let alone, he wasn’t even sure if he was.
“Yunjin-” you try to apologize, but she pushes past you with Yeonjun. You try to grab her hand, but she pulls away and turns to you.
“It went too far.” she says, trying to control her temper before turning around to walk away with Yeonjun.
You turn to look at Minjeong and Beomgyu, but they both just look at each other awkwardly. 
“We should probably go with them.” Beomgyu says.
Minjeong nods her head, agreeing, but before they both walk past you, she stops, “I’m sure if you try talking to her tomorrow, she’ll forgive you.”
You bite the inner part of your cheek as they walk away. The crowd starts to disperse, still earning a few questioning glances from those passing by. You glare at Heeseung and begin to walk away.
“Look, I didn’t-” he tries to explain, but you cut him off by turning around, now face-to-face with him.
Tears sting as they begin to brim your eyes. There are so many things you could say to him right now, so many things to yell, but for once you find yourself to be at a loss. He too, is also at a loss for words. Seeing you look at him this way, tears in your eyes, he feels so ashamed and embarrassed. 
“Just leave me alone.” you say through shallow breaths, trying your hardest not to cry in front of him.
You knew to him this was all some sick joke, so you doubt he would actually listen to you, but you hoped there was some small part of him that would finally see you never found any of this to be funny and that he has finally taken it too far.
-
You have never dreaded walking to your class this morning more than you do at this very moment; you just don’t have the energy to put up with Heeseung now or even ever again. You tried texting Yunjin, but she never replied let alone even opened the messages. You were so wrapped up in your emotions you didn’t even realize you made it to your class in peace. Relieved was an understatement about how you were currently feeling, but you also felt oddly sick. 
Although you didn’t want him bothering you, you couldn’t help but feel annoyed at the fact that he didn’t even try to apologize once while you were on your way to class. It was the least he could do, afterall. He pretty much destroyed your friendships with your closest friends and now that he’s had his fun, he no longer felt the need to keep up the act? The more you thought about it, the more angry you became. You knew you hated him before, but you’ve never been this furious with him, not even at his attempts to rub his wealth in your face by buying you things. No, this was a new low, even for him, but you keep trying to tell yourself you should’ve seen it coming.
-
“Oh hell no.” Yunjin mumbles before standing up from the steps she and the others were sitting on. Heeseung approaches cautiously as he feels their eyes burning into him with their intensive stares. “You really are a stalker, how did you even know what university I go to?” she asks, crossing her arms defensively. 
“It’s in our high school yearbooks, everyone put where they were going.” he replied. Yunjin scowls, hoping he would get the idea and leave once and for all. “I came to apologize. I just-” he pauses, looking away while clenching his jaw before looking back at them. “I’m sorry I punched you.” he says to Yeonjun. 
Yeonjun looks at him, unimpressed. 
“You suck at apologizing.” Yunjin states.
“I thought he was cheating! I didn’t know-” he groans, becoming frustrated. He tries to calm down, running his hand through his hair before speaking again. “All I want to say is that I really am sorry, I was just trying to look out for your friend, okay? She deserves better and when I saw who I thought was her boyfriend kissing someone else, I just…handled things poorly.”
Yeonjun gets up to stand next to Yunjin, draping his arm around her shoulders. “I get it, you didn’t know.”
Yunjin scoffs, “You’ve officially taken this joke of yours too far, so stop acting like you care about her and just admit it already.”
“Why does everyone think I’m joking?” he asks, both frustrated and genuinely.
“Everyone in school knew you were joking. I thought you took it too far back when you bought her a pair of some new, expensive shoes.”
Is that really how everyone saw it? Is that really how you see it?
“I bought her the shoes because she had her old ones for years and had bandaids for the blisters she was clearly getting. I also bought her extra bandages, did you forget about that?”
Yunjin stops scowling, “So you aren’t just messing with her because she rejected you?”
“Of course not, I really care about her. I know I annoy her, but I never thought she would think I was doing all of this just to hurt her feelings.”
Yunjin stands there for a second, questioning whether or not she believes him. 
“You’re right,” she starts, making eye contact with Heeseung, “she deserves the best.” It falls quiet again for a moment, mainly because Yunjin is wondering whether or not she wants to give him a chance to prove himself to you. “We’re going to meet at the club downtown around ten, if you really mean what you say, you should come.”
Heeseung stands there, stunned. Does this mean she believes him? Does this mean they all believe him? Does this mean you’ll believe him? As they walk away from the steps, they all look at him, but not the same way they did when he first came over; skeptical. They all looked at him like they wanted what he said to be true and tonight is the night he is going to prove it.
-
You walked into the club, anxious, yet grateful that Yunjin finally responded to one of your messages. You wanted tonight to be like any other night that you all hang out here, like everything was back to normal; like it was before the whole debacle with Heeseung at the mall. You made your way past the crowds of people through the darkly lit club, over to the booth you all usually sit at. 
“Hey.” you say, trying not to sound awkward.
Yunjin sheepishly smiles, “Hey.” she says.
“Are you guys going to kiss and make up now?” Beomgyu asks, honestly over all of the drama.
Everyone laughs and Minjeong hands you your usual drink as you all make your way to the dance floor. From there, you move your body to the music, just wanting to let go of all the stress you’ve been under lately. Dancing along with your friends, having a good time, is all you care about at this very moment. You were enjoying yourself, feeling confident in the outfit you chose to wear paired along with the light buzz from the alcohol you were drinking. You closed your eyes as you soaked it all in; it felt like nothing could disrupt this feeling.
“Wow…” you hear someone say before they trail off.
You open your eyes and freeze. You know this voice a little all-too-well. Your grip on the glass you are holding in your hand becomes tighter as you slowly turn towards the person who was speaking. Your eyes lock with Heeseungs as he looks at you in awe. You look stunning and he felt like all of the air from his lungs had escaped the second he saw you; breathless. You walk closer to him, so he wouldn’t get any crazy ideas and try to do something else to your friends, but as you got closer to him you couldn’t help but think about how nice he smells. You shake the thought from your head as you look up at him, your eyes meeting once again. 
All thoughts you previously had were now gone; he made your mind go blank. Have his eyes always been this pretty? No…what the hell are you thinking? Pull yourself together.
“Do you take nothing I say seriously?” you manage to blurt out.
He smiles, happy that you’re talking to him (and just because he’s happy to see you in general).
“For all the years you’ve known me, you should know better than anyone else that I can’t stay away from you.” he replies before smirking.
That smug attitude thankfully snapped you out of whatever weird thoughts you were having earlier and brought you back to reality: he’s a prick. You roll your eyes and push yourself past him as you head to the bar to return your glass. You set the glass down a little harsher than you anticipated and Heeseung follows you as you make your way out of the club. He calls after you, but you ignore him. Nothing is going to change, apparently. But as you’ve said to yourself before: you really shouldn’t be surprised.
Heeseung stops calling after you and instead catches up to you, grabbing your hand gently so you would stop walking away from him. You turn to face him, looking down at your hands for a split second, feeling a different kind of buzz result from it. You try to shake his hand away, but he doesn’t budge. You meet his eyes, feeling your heart begin to race. As much as you tried to stop, something was happening, and you were certainly not a huge fan. 
“I spoke with your friends earlier and apologized.”
He did what? Wait…have you been hallucinating this whole time? That would explain why you suddenly feel this way because you know, not in any lifetime, would you possibly have feelings for Lee Heeseung. 
“How?” is all you could manage to say. 
Your mind was running a thousand miles a minute, not really in any shape to hold any kind of conversation, but especially not one with Heeseung.
“I made a mistake. I have a lot of things I want to apologize to you for.”
He spoke so gently and sweetly; it was like he was hypnotizing you. The streets were oddly quiet, not too many people, but you could still hear the music from the club. You found yourself staring at him in amazement. The fluorescent lights from the signs of stores nearby and the streetlights felt as though they were shining on the both of you, like you two were the only people who matter.
“What?” is all you can think to say.
“I’m sorry I’ve been bothering you to the point where you felt like you had no other choice but to lie.” he says, taking a step closer to you. “I’m sorry I made you and your friend fight.” he takes another step closer to you. You felt your breath hitch as your eyes traveled along his figure. Has he always looked this good in a black button up and black pants? It doesn’t help that his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you find yourself staring at his arms.
He waits for you. He waits for you while he clearly sees you checking him out and it’s turning him on. God, you look so beautiful and the way you are looking at him, slowly taking in everything about him as if you are seeing him for the first time makes him want to kiss you; it makes him want to do a lot more. When your eyes meet his again, he takes this as an opportunity to step closer to you, placing his other hand on your cheek, gently cupping your face. He wants to be gentle because you are one of the most precious things to him. He leans close to your face, each others’ breath scattering lightly along one anothers face. 
“And I’m sorry,” he whispers as he rubs his thumb back and forth on your cheek, still looking into your eyes, “for making you feel like a joke.”
You feel yourself tense up. “Was it? All a joke…” you trail off, not necessarily sure what you want to happen next.
He continues looking into your eyes, never looking away because he wants you to know that he is being serious; that he means every word he says.
“Not for a second.” he replies.
You think back to everything he has done for you in a new perspective. How he would leave your favorite snack on your desk on test days, notes telling you how well you did after a presentation, volunteering to be your partner because he didn’t want you to feel alone or left out, buying you your favorite drink if you forgot to bring money for it, and asking you out to a restaurant that holds a special meaning to him and he only wants to share it with you. 
You want to kiss him, but you find yourself pulling away instead. He looks at you, confused, as you separate yourself from him, letting go of his hand. 
“I should get home. You know how early my morning class is.” you say while looking at the ground.
“Are you walking home? This late?”
You step back a little bit, finally looking back at him and you smile nervously. “I usually take the bus, but I think I missed the last one, so yeah, I guess I am.” you say kind of bunched together. Are you nervous?
“I can just drive you home.” he says, not really offering, more like telling.
You shake your head as your eyes shift to one of the cars in front of the club. You recognized it as his since he drives it to school everyday. A small, small part of you would love to ride in it, but you can walk home yourself (even if you also know it’s a bad idea).
“Yeah, I’m not letting you walk home alone this late.” he says, no longer wondering why you pulled away from him, but more concerned for your safety. He reaches for your hand and you let him take it, even if you keep telling yourself you shouldn’t. You both walk over to his car and he opens the door for you to get in. You look at him and he looks back at you, not intending on budging from his offer. You roll your eyes playfully as you get into the car. He closes the door and walks over to get into the driver's seat. He gets in and closes the door before starting his engine. You sit there, a little surprised you were even in his car in the first place. “You kind of need to put on your seatbelt.” he says, nodding his head towards the seatbelt that you left untouched. 
You laugh nervously, but for some reason, you still don’t think to move to put it on. He sighs, smiling to himself at your cuteness, before leaning over to grab the seatbelt, slowly extending it over your body before clicking it into place. He looks at you, your faces inches apart, and you feel your breathing quicken once again. His heart begins to beat faster, but he can’t stop looking at you; you’re stunning. He manages to pull himself away, worried he might make you feel uncomfortable, before putting on his own seatbelt and putting the car in drive. 
“Do you want to tell me how to get to your house?” he asks as he pulls out of the parking spot.
Your eyes widen. Right, your house. A house that--you assume--is nowhere near as nice as his house. What if once he sees just how different you two are he will stop liking you? What if he was lying before and this was his final cruel attempt to make fun of you? You shake your head.
“I would rather not tell you.”
He steps on the brake, turning his head to look at you.
“You…don’t want to tell me?”
You shake your head, hoping he’ll give up and let you out of the car. You hear him let out a tut, making you turn your head to look at him.
“Would you rather I take you to my place?” he asks, trying not to sound nervous.
Not particularly, you kind of already planned on going to bed once you got back home, but you stayed quiet, leaving him to answer his own question. He sighs, releasing his foot off the brake.
-
Heeseung pulls up to a gate that guards a huge house behind it. Your mouth falls a little agape as you look at it, thinking about how the driveway is the size of your own home. He puts in the code, opening the gate, and driving up the huge driveway. He parks the car and turns off the engine, unbuckling his seatbelt before looking at you. 
“Do you need me to unbuckle it for you?” he asks while smirking.
You kind of want him to, but you opt for doing it yourself. You both get out of the car and he waits for you before he begins to lead the way. You can’t stop looking around as you two walk up the stairs leading to the (in your opinion) oversized doors, to which he opens and lets you walk in first. The house is even more luxurious on the inside than it is on the outside, which you honestly didn’t think could be possible. He shuts the door behind him and you both take off your shoes. You feel out of place, starting to feel insecure. The guy with all of this money to have this grand living room with a huge television, windows covering the walls and expensive furniture littered everywhere claims to like you? And has for years? You were starting to find it hard to believe again. 
“I hope this is okay.” he says, breaking the silence. 
You weren’t sure what he meant, but you assume he’s hoping it’s okay that he brought you here. He starts heading for the staircase and you follow behind, still taking in your surroundings. He leads you to his room, and you decide to stand by the doorframe. To you, it doesn’t seem like the downstairs even needs a living room since he already has a couch and t.v. in his room along with a big bed laying on a platform and more windows for walls. A beep is heard and the curtains for his windows start automatically covering them and the two lamps on his bedside tables turn on. He looks back at you, smiling at your expression that he finds to be adorable. 
“You can come in, you know.” he says as he rummages through some drawers.
You hesitantly walk into his room, somehow just noticing how nice it smells, and find the confidence to walk up the few steps to his bed to take a seat. You turn your head to look around some more and Heeseung looks up, stopping what he is doing upon seeing you on his bed. You are on his bed. Is he dreaming? He honestly never thought this day would come and he clears his throat to try and calm his nerves, making you look at him.
“What are you doing?” you finally ask.
He grabs what he came in for and walks over to you holding out the clothes he picked himself.
“The guest rooms don’t have any clothes in them, so you can borrow mine.”
Did he just say “rooms” as in plural, like multiple? 
“Right, naturally.” you tease.
He smiles and you stand to grab the clothes from him. You hold them as you look up at him, once again meeting his eyes. That feeling starts to form again, the one where you don’t want to stop looking at him and certainly don’t want him to stop looking at you.
“I forgive you.” you whisper.
He looks confused for a second before he understands what you mean. He smiles.
“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.” 
You aren’t sure if it’s the atmosphere, the way he smells, the way he’s looking at you, or all three combined, but before you can even process what you are doing, you are tossing the clothes he handed you onto the floor and pulling him by the collar to kiss you.
Holy. Shit. You’re kissing him. You’re kissing him. One of your hands moves to hold the side of his neck while the other moves to the back of his hair as you start running your fingers through it, gripping it here and there. He moves his hands to hold your waist, squeezing them lightly from anticipation, as he kisses you back. He gains more confidence, pulling you as closely as possible to him, as he deepens the kiss. He is desperate for you, he is desperate to show you how he feels. He lifts you up and your legs wrap around his waist, him carefully carrying you and placing you onto his bed. He lays you down as you two continue to kiss, him pulling away from your lips and beginning to leave a trail of light, breathy, kisses from your jaw down to your collarbone. Your chest raises from the deep breath you take and he swears he is going to lose his mind from looking at you in your current state. The state he is currently leaving you in. 
His hands roam your body, wanting to feel every inch of you.
“Heeseung…” you say breathlessly, practically sending him over the edge.
He can feel his erection growing and you saying his name like that makes his cock ache harder. He pulls away from leaving hickeys along your chest, pulling you up by the waist so he can lift your dress off of you. He pulls it over your head and you help him, throwing the dress off to the side. He rests his forehead on yours, trying to calm his breathing and you begin to palm his erection. He whines, moving your hand away before laying you back down. His eyes scan your body, now realizing you were never wearing a bra. There you are, laying on his bed in nothing other than your underwear and he has to try and collect himself before he cums in his pants at just the mere sight of you. His right hand begins to travel up your leg, his fingers lightly running along your skin as he continues to look at you, look at every inch of you. His fingers travel past your hip up to your breasts where he cups one of them, earning a small gasp from you.
He bites the inner part of his cheek, trying to contain himself as he fondles your breast, playing with your nipple, watching how your face contorts in pleasure. He leans down to leave light kisses on your shoulder, looking at your face between each one, going down and stopping at your other breast before latching his mouth around your nipple. You bite your lip, one of your hands comes to grip his hair. He moans as he swirls his tongue around your nipple, occasionally flicking it. He felt drunk and so incredibly turned on. He stops fondling your other breast with his hand and lightly trails his fingers down to your underwear, sticking his hand inside. You gasp again, his fingers feeling a little cold as he runs them along your wet folds. 
Fuck he was making you feel good and you let out a moan, making him smirk. He sticks a finger in, making you grip his hair a little harder, and so he sticks in two. You moan again and he pulls away from your breast to kiss you as his fingers pump in and out of you. You’ve become so wet that you start to cover his hand in your wetness, the sound of his hand coming in constant contact with your pussy starting to fill the room. You feel yourself become close and your mouth falls agape. He stops kissing you and pulls back as well as pulling his fingers out of you. You open your eyes, the dim lights suddenly being so bright as you try to process what is happening.
He brings his fingers to his lips, licking off your arousal from them. His eyes close as he inhales deeply, consumed by the taste of you.
“Please, Heeseung…” you start to plead.
He opens his eyes and figures he can’t leave you without what you want. So, in honor of a fair trade since he feels intoxicated by your taste, he takes off your underwear and throws your legs over his shoulders as he positions his face in front of your pussy. You swallow harshly as you feel his breath on you before he licks a stripe along your core, causing your eyes to roll back a little bit and your back arch at the sudden contact. His hands grip the sides of your thighs as he indulges in you, licking up every last drop of you before making his way to your clit and sucking on it.
“Fuck, Heeseung…” you moan out breathlessly.
He’s too consumed by your taste to notice and he pulls you more into his face. He moans into you, one of his hands leaving your thigh as he starts to finger you again. He hears you moaning and gasping, prompting him to open his eyes and look at you. Just the sight of you causes him to pick up his pace, his fingers rapidly going in and out of you and the more you moan, the more turned on he gets. You feel yourself become closer, gripping the sheets as you call out his name. That mixed with the taste of you on his tongue makes him moan. You taste so good, you look so beautiful, he feels like the luckiest man alive to have you call out his name. He sucks harder and pumps faster as he moans into you, cumming in his pants. 
Your head falls deeper into the pillow you were laying on as you release yourself all over his fingers, mouth, and face. His movements begin to slow down as he calms down from his high and he pulls away, seeing your legs shaking a bit. He sits back, taking your legs off of his shoulders and you look at him. His face is flushed and shiny because of your cum, which he didn’t mind. He licked his fingers again, trying to catch his breath afterwards and you find the energy to sit up. 
You pull him in for a kiss and his hands land on your ass, squeezing it. You moan and reach your slightly shaky hands up to the buttons on his shirt, unbuttoning them. You pull away as you take the shirt off of him, throwing it to the side. This time, you leave a trail of kisses from his jaw to his neck, his mouth falling agape from pleasure. He was becoming hard again and so you started to undo his belt as well as the button and zipper on his pants. You can hear him let out shallow breaths, and he pulls you back to kiss him on the lips. You kiss each other with so much need, and as you start taking off his pants, he pulls away to take them off himself. 
You watch as he does, seeing his bulge through his underwear along with the cum stain from earlier. You smirk, which makes him feel a little shy.
“Come here.” you say, your eyes flicking back to meet his.
He listens, and you move each other so he is now the one laying back as you sit between his legs. He swallows harshly, completely turned on by the sight of your bare self looking at him in such a sinful way. Fuck, he wants you to ruin him. You keep eye contact with him as you lightly grab the edge of his boxers. His breath hitches as he becomes increasingly more nervous and he bites his lip as you run your pointer finger over his v-line. You smirk, slowly pulling his boxers off of him and finally letting his aching cock free. You cast aside his boxers, lightly running your fingers along his length, making him let out little moans, trying to decide what you want to do next. Seeing him like this, you decide you can’t wait any longer, so you position yourself over his cock, one hand holding onto his shoulder as the other guides it into your cunt. 
You both throw your heads back as you let out a moan in unison. You slowly sank onto his length and he watched in awe. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening and when you finally settled fully onto his cock, his mind felt fuzzy. You felt so fucking good and here you were, riding his dick with hickies all over your chest and neck made by him. Consumed by his thoughts, he gripped your hips a little bit harsher as he let out a stifled breath. You look at him, wondering what was happening, but feeling his cock twitch inside of you and him letting out a string of moans and apologies answered your question quickly as he came inside of you. 
His breathing settled after his release and he looks at you, eyes a little hazy, but full of pleasure; he looked so fucked out. 
“I’m so sorry.” he half whispers and half exclaims. 
He really meant it and to be honest, he was kind of embarrassed. You shake your head.
“Don’t be,” you say, starting to rock your hips, causing his eyes to roll back in pleasure, “it was hot.” You pick up your speed and call out his name from how good he is making you feel. “Shit…” you whine as you start to lose momentum from the pleasure. He notices and adjusts himself so he is laying a little bit lower to which he slings his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You let out a small yelp as he hoists his hips up, thrusting into you, fast and deep. “Fuck…” you call out into his ear, making him pick up his pace. 
Moans mixed with the sound of his cock rutting into you fills the room and you grip the sheets as you feel yourself clench around him.
“Fuck-” Heeseung starts, but is cut off by his own moans from being close to his climax.
He thrusts into you faster and you clench around him harsher, your legs shaking as you cum all over his dick. He grips your waist harsher and clenches his jaw, breathy moans still escaping through his teeth as he cums–once again–inside of you. He does a few more thrusts to ride out his high before pulling out of your throbbing cunt. You both lay there for a moment, you still on top of him, trying to catch your breath.
“So…” Heeseung starts. You lift your head slightly to look him in the eyes and he smiles sheepishly, “does this mean you’ll go on that date with me?” he asks, hopeful.
You roll your eyes, “God, you’re annoying.” you say before smiling.
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mononijikayu · 26 days
Text
what’s your type? — gojo satoru.
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“Senpai, can I ask you something?” “Ask away.” “.........What’s your type?” You blinked, your eyes darting to him. The rustle of leaves against the wind was loud. “What?” “I….I liked that photo of Waka Inoue, but it’s nothing much. Shoko said its icky cause it’s creepy that Waka Inoue looks like her but—” You start to laugh. “Gojo, you are something, aren’t you?”
GENRE: post hidden - inventory arc (2010s)
WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;
WORDS: 10k words.
NOTE: feeling a little bit better, no more fever. but im still longing for satoru. he won second place in the last poll, so his story has to be contrasting sukuna!!! thank you for still reading my works and healing with me. it's really healing to just take time and see him be the silly man he is. i love him so much, guys. so so much!!!
masterlist
u s and t h e m
if you want to, tip! <3
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November 2005
IT'S ALMOST BEEN SIX MONTHS AND SOMEHOW HE STILL DOESN’T KNOW YOU. And because of this he doesn’t think he can sleep at night. You were Gojo Satoru's senpai, a figure shrouded in mystery and calm that even he, with all his power and insight, could not easily unravel. To Satoru, you were more of an enigma than he could ever hope to be—a person who never spoke more than necessary, and when you did, it was with careful precision, revealing only what was directly asked.
You were a Zen'in by blood, yet you never uttered a word of reproach against your relatives, despite their reputation. It was no secret that the Zen'in clan was a place of harshness and cruelty, but you kept your thoughts tightly sealed, never letting your personal feelings slip. Not even with discontent, it somehow never found a way out of your lips. Your life outside of missions and the classroom was a locked box that Satoru could never open.
Gojo Satoru can’t help it, but he often finds himself wondering about you. Your restraint, your quiet strength. Everything about you was so unlike him, so tranquil and graceful and yet, in some ways, it was what made you so fascinating to him. He knew you didn’t like the higher–ups, nor the clan elders; it was in the way your deep purple eyes would narrow ever so slightly during meetings, in the subtle tension in your posture.
But you never voiced your displeasure, not even in private. Yaga–sensei thinks you got that from your father. And you were too much like him. It was unquestionable, unshakable, vibrant loyalty to the jujutsu world, but Gojo Satoru couldn't tell whether it was out of duty, fear, or something else entirely.
For someone like Gojo Satoru, who thrived on breaking down barriers and challenging the status quo the moment he was born, your unwavering silence on certain matters was almost infuriating. He doesn’t think you were that way when you were born either. But perhaps he was used to being the one who held all the cards, who saw through people with ease.
Yet with you, he was left guessing, speculating. You were the aloof cloud he can never understand. Even when he tried to prod for more, you would give him just enough to satisfy his immediate curiosity but never enough to truly understand you. And that’s what he wanted. He wanted to understand you. To get to know you. To be close to you.
It wasn't that you were cold or distant—far from it, he thinks. You were always there, always supportive when it mattered. Maybe even more than Yaga–sensei sometimes. But you kept your past, your thoughts, and your emotions locked away in a treasure trove he’s been trying to find. And just as always, it was leaving Satoru to wonder what kind of experiences shaped the person you were. Were you haunted by the same ghosts that plagued him, or was your silence a shield against something far darker?
To him, you were like a mirror that reflected his own complexities. The first in centuries to be born with the gift of Ryomen Hiromi, the only heir of the Zen’in clan in its lifetime. But maybe you were someone with a filter that softens the edges. You represented a kind of strength that didn’t need to flaunt itself—a quiet resilience that came from facing the world with resolve and not letting it change who you were at your core.
In a world full of curses and chaos, where everyone had their demons, you remained the one riddle Gojo Satoru couldn’t solve. A mystery he wished to solve. And perhaps that was why, despite all his power and knowledge, he found himself drawn to you again and again, in search of the answer to the question that haunted him the most: Who were you, really? Who was this senpai he looked up to the most?
The room was quiet, save for the sound of Gojo Satoru's footsteps as he paced back and forth. His restless energy filled the space, making it impossible for Geto Suguru to focus on his book. After a few more laps, Suguru finally had enough and gave up, placing the book aside.
"Satoru, would you stop that? You're making me dizzy." Suguru said, rubbing his temples in frustration. “And now the book feels moot to your annoying footsteps.”
Satoru paused mid-step, looking at Suguru with a pout. "I can't help it! I’m just too curious about them. They’re always so secretive."
Ieiri Shoko, who had been watching the scene unfold from her spot on the couch, took a drag from her cigarette before chiming in. "Let him be, Suguru. At least he’ll burn off some of that energy. We might actually get some peace and quiet later."
Satoru shot her a playful glare. "I’m not that bad."
Shoko raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue the point. Instead, she leaned back and let out a soft sigh, enjoying the rare moment of levity. "Uh-huh, keep telling yourself that."
Suguru, however, wasn’t quite done. "You shouldn’t pry into their life, Satoru. That’s their business, not ours."
Satoru crossed his arms, his curiosity still burning brightly in his eyes. "But they never talk about anything! Don't you want to know more about them?"
Shoko nodded in agreement with Suguru. "I do, but it’s not our place to dig into their past. If they want to share something, they will. Until then, we respect their privacy."
Satoru sighed, his excitement dimming slightly. He knew they were right, but it didn’t make it any easier. There was something about the mystery that you carried with you that kept pulling him in, a puzzle that he was desperate to solve.
"Fine." he conceded, plopping down on the couch next to Shoko. "But it doesn’t mean I’m not going to keep wondering."
Suguru chuckled, shaking his head. "Knowing you, that’s as close to restraint as we’re going to get."
Shoko smirked and gave Satoru a light tap on the head. "Just don’t let it consume you, alright?"
Satoru grinned, though the curiosity still lingered in his expression. "No promises.”
Satoru leaned back on the couch, trying to shake off his curiosity about you, but it was harder than he expected. His mind kept wandering back to the mystery that was his strong, dependable senpai. Despite the warnings from Suguru and Shoko, he couldn't help himself.
"Come on, Suguru, don’t you wonder about anything? Like, what type of women they’re into?" Satoru suddenly asked, unable to keep the question to himself any longer.
Suguru rolled his eyes, clearly not interested in entertaining Satoru’s curiosity any further. He has had enough for a whole day already. He sighed. "Satoru, seriously? I thought you put it to rest already!”
“But I wanna know more about them. What’s their favorite mochi? Do they like coffee? What’s their favorite cafe? Do they like idols? What’s their type—”
“Satoru, stop—Ah, my ear! That was so loud!”
“Suguboo!” The blue eyed sorcerer cried as he leaned against Suguru’s shoulder as Suguru groaned with exasperation, trying to get Satoru off him.
But Shoko, who had been lazily biting the lollipop in her mouth, suddenly perked up at the sight.  A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes as she pulled out her flip phone, her fingers typing away with practiced ease. 
Satoru noticed and immediately scooted closer. "Wait, Shoko, what are you doing? Do you know something? Don’t tell me you have senpai’s number. Are you texting them? Tell me! I’m dying here!"
Shoko grinned, enjoying the moment as she finished typing. She flipped the phone around, showing Satoru the screen.
His cerulean. eyes zeroed in on the contact name: Utahime–senpai. Then, underneath, a simple message: Eh? Hm…..Yuki–senpai asked them one time, and Yuki-senpai said that they answered Norika Fujiwara—that’s our senpai’s type, which bummed Yuki-senpai. She's not senpai's type.’
"Yuki-senpai, the special grade abroad?"
"I guess so." Shoko retorted back to Suguru. "Apparently she and our senpai's close."
"Hm, that makes sense." Suguru nodded back at his friend. "Huh, I never expected that senpai would be into women. Good for them."
"Right?" Shoko grinned back at the long haired sorcerer. "Women are the best!"
For a moment, Satoru just stared, processing the information. "Wait, Norika Fujiwara? That’s…" 
"Yup." Shoko said, her grin widening as she leaned back, clearly amused by his reaction.
Satoru’s eyes widened as it finally hit him. "Our senpai… is into women?"
Shoko chuckled as Suguru shot her a mildly disapproving look, but even he couldn't suppress a small smile.  "You know, this makes sense now. Kyoto High has K-1 events on their TV. And Norika Fujiwara's on the programs sometimes."
"Heh, you're right!" Shoko grins at her friend. "I wonder if they only watch for Noriko Fujiwara."
"I don't think our Senpai's that shallow, Shoko."
"Well anyway, you did say you wanted to know more about them." Shoko said, putting her phone away. She raised her thumb up for Satoru. “Now you do!”
Satoru was stunned. He had always respected you as a powerful and composed figure, but somehow this revelation made you even more intriguing in his eyes. "Wow… just when I thought I couldn’t admire them more. They're becoming cooler by the day. You guys don't understand!"
Suguru sighed, shaking his head at the whole exchange. "Satoru, you really are something else."
"Hey, I’m just appreciating my senpai!" Satoru shot back, but his tone was lighter now, a mix of surprise and admiration in his voice.
Shoko smirked, clearly pleased with herself. "Well, now you know. Just don’t let it go to your head."
Satoru nodded, but it was clear from his expression that this little tidbit of knowledge had only deepened the enigma that you were to him. Because he couldn't help it, when it came to you. He couldn't help but want to know more.
He stood up, trying to open his canned soda and sighed. He thinks he feels faint. But maybe, just maybe, its the weather. He feels unwell, somhow. Gojo Satoru sighed. He should sleep more.
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THE AUTUMN LEAVES MARKED YOUR ARRIVAL. The next few days saw you at Jujutsu High, filing a report about a recent mission in the Tokyo Metropolitan Area. The mission had gone smoothly, but there was something about the activity at a nearby temple that piqued your interest, so you planned to stay on campus all day before heading out to investigate.
Satoru had been unusually quiet since your arrival. He watched you from a distance, his usual playful banter replaced by a thoughtful silence. He still hadn’t figured out how to bring up what he’d learned about you—how could he, when the revelation had left him so distracted?
By the time you suggested sparring, hoping to shake off the tension in the air, Satoru seemed eager to agree. The two of you moved through the training area, exchanging blows with a familiarity that spoke of years of experience. But something was off. Satoru wasn’t as sharp as usual; his mind was clearly elsewhere.
You took advantage of the momentary lapse in his concentration. In a quick, fluid motion, you downed him, pinning him to the ground with a sigh. He groaned, feeling the ground and gravel against his face.
"You’re stupid to let me have a shot at downing you, Gojo-kun." you muttered, shaking your head. “That was a rookie mistake.”
Satoru blinked up at you, startled by your words, before realizing his mistake. He had let his guard down completely. He sighed, a rare admission of fault slipping past his lips. "Yeah, sorry. I’m just… distracted."
You raised an eyebrow, still holding him in place. "Distracted? What's going on, Gojo-kun? Is it about a mission or something to do with the jujutsu you’re working on?"
He hesitated, trying to find the right words. It wasn’t like him to be at a loss, but this was different. His thoughts were clouded by what he had discovered, and now, faced with you directly, he wasn’t sure how to bring it up. Finally, he decided to dodge, just a little. 
"It’s nothing serious. Just something on my mind that I can’t quite shake."
You narrowed your eyes, clearly not convinced but deciding to let it slide for the moment. You released him, standing up and offering a hand to help him up. "Well, whatever it is, don’t let it cloud your judgment. You can’t afford to be distracted out there."
Satoru took your hand and stood up, brushing the dust off his clothes. He nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "Yeah, I know. Thanks, senpai."
You studied him for a moment longer, clearly aware that something was off but choosing not to press further. "Just remember, Gojo-kun—whatever it is, you can talk to me. I’m here if you need anything."
He nodded again, appreciating your offer but still unsure how to approach the topic of what he’d learned. "I’ll keep that in mind."
With that, the two of you continued your sparring session, but Satoru's thoughts remained tangled. The revelation had stirred something in him, and he knew he couldn’t keep it to himself forever. But for now, he would focus on the task at hand, trying to push the distraction aside until he could find the right moment—and the right words—to bring it up with you.
You cracked open your canned soda, the familiar hiss of carbonation filling the quiet evening air. Taking a sip, you glanced at Satoru, who was fiddling with his own sweet drink, clearly still wrestling with his thoughts. You couldn’t help but smile, the tension between you now a thing of the past.
“Senpai, can I ask you something?”
“Ask away.”
“.........What’s your type?”
You blinked, your eyes darting to him. The rustle of leaves against the wind was loud. “What?”
“I….I liked that photo of Waka Inoue, but it’s nothing much, really. Pretty face, pretty lady. But I have to say, Shoko said its icky cause it’s creepy that Waka Inoue looks like her but—”
You start to laugh. “Gojo, you are something, aren’t you?”
He blushes, almost embarrassed as you shake your head at him. “......Is it bad?”
“Hm, not at all.” You snickered at him. “You’re just curious. But I now have a question!”
“Y–yes, senpai?”
“Was it Mei–Mei or Utahime?”
“!?” His face was priceless. It was as though he was a child who had just been caught stealing cookies during the night in the kitchen.
"Ah, Shoko must have asked Utahime." you began, the amusement evident in your voice, "Man, that girl has a big fat crush on Shoko, doesn’t she? She just gave up easily. At least with Mei–Mei, it will be a good five million yen.”
Satoru didn’t respond immediately, focusing instead on opening his drink. His silence spoke volumes, and you chuckled once more with a softer essence, shaking your head. 
“Well, it’s not like I’m hiding anything.” You tout, sighing as you look at him. “But I guess that I’m not as obvious as they come, I suppose.”
Taking another sip, you continued, "I do like Fujiwara Norika. She’s my type of woman. Looking back at it now, she reminds me of someone I dated once. And I think that makes Yuki-chan feel like she has to dye her hair brown now."
Satoru froze mid-sip, and the next thing you knew, he was sputtering, spitting out his drink in surprise. "You… you dated before?" he blurted out, his eyes wide with shock. "Do...do I know them?"
You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. "Why wouldn’t I? I’m older than you by a couple of years, you know? And it wasn’t really a secret....Hm.....Would you know? I don't think you liked anyone else from the other clans. But I guess in a way, it doesn't matter, you know?”
Satoru stared at you, still processing what you had said, but then he noticed the brief flicker of sadness that crossed your face, even when you try to laugh it off. It was subtle, barely there, but for someone as perceptive as Satoru, it was impossible to miss. His usual playful demeanor softened, and he watched you carefully, sensing that there was more to the story.
You sighed, looking out at the horizon, your voice quieter now. "I loved someone a long time ago, Gojo. And it broke my heart when she left. But that’s over now.”
The weight of your words hung in the air between you, and for once, Satoru didn’t know what to say. He could see the pain in your eyes, a pain that was buried deep but still lingered, like an old wound that hadn’t quite healed.
"But, Gojo-kun....you know…." you continued, your voice growing steadier, "I didn’t love her because she was a woman. Or that she looked like Fujiwara Noriko. Even if that's what others believed. I loved her because she brought me to life."
Satoru was silent, absorbing what you had just shared. He could see now that your quiet strength, the way you carried yourself, had been shaped by experiences that ran deep—experiences that he had never even guessed at.
You turned to him with a genuine smile. "People like us have the rarity of that, don't you think? Not has the shot to be brought to life by love." 
For a moment, the two of you stood there, the setting sun casting long shadows around you. Satoru finally broke the silence, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "I’m sorry, senpai. I didn’t mean to bring up something painful."
You shook your head, offering him a reassuring smile. "It’s alright, Gojo-kun. You didn't upset me at all. It’s part of life, part of who I am. And you asked properly. It was right to be honest. Besides, what makes us human if we don't carry our own stories with us, don’t we?"
Satoru nodded slowly, feeling a new sense of respect for you. He had always admired your strength, but now he understood that it wasn’t just about power or skill. It was also about the resilience you had built through the pain of loss, through the love that had once lifted you and then left you heartbroken.
"Thanks for telling me, senpai." he finally said, his usual bravado tempered by genuine gratitude.
You nodded, appreciating his sincerity. "Just remember, Gojo-kun. Your curiosity isn’t a bad thing. But some things take time to understand. Don’t be in such a hurry to know everything all at once. Even about me. Just….just enjoy things little by little.”
He smiled, a small, thoughtful smile that showed he was taking your words to heart. "I’ll try to remember that."
You leaned closer to him and let your palm pat his head. He gasped, looking up to you as he nearly dropped his soda. You laugh. “Aren’t you my cute, curious and dependable kouhai, Gojo Satoru!”
Gojo Satoru felt his ears turn red as much as his body. He lowered his head, enjoying your touch on his hair. Gentle and yet tenderly comforting all at once. He wished you didn’t have this much of an effect on him. But he supposed that he knew that he’s not good like that when it comes to you. 
With that, the two of you stood in comfortable silence, sipping your drinks as the last rays of the sun dipped below the horizon, leaving the world bathed in twilight. It was a rare, quiet moment between two powerful sorcerers, a moment where the weight of your shared experiences brought you closer together, not just as comrades, but as individuals who had lived, loved, and lost in the ever-unforgiving world of jujutsu.
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January 2006
IT’S HARD TO BELIEVE ITS NEW YEAR AGAIN.The cold Kyoto air was crisp as Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, Nanami, and Haibara made their way up the steps to your family’s ancestral Mikoto temple in the heart of Kyoto. The New Year had come fast approaching, and while you had insisted they didn’t need to make the trip all the way to Kyoto just for you, Gojo Satoru had been adamant to see you. As he always was. He was just that sort of young man.
Satoru's enthusiasm for joining you at the temple for New Year's was palpable, his childlike pout accentuating just how much he wanted to be there. Despite your logical protests about the cold and the crowd, Satoru seemed undeterred, his energy almost infectious.
“It’ll be too crowded, Gojo-kun.” you said with a raised brow, trying to keep a firm stance on your decision. “And not to mention too cold. Just stay in Tokyo.”
But Satoru wasn't one to give up easily, especially not when it came to spending time with you. He pouted, his lower lip jutting out in a way that made you sigh in exasperation. “Ehhhhhh, I don’t want to.” His voice was a playful whine. “Come on, senpai! Me being there would make it all fun.”
Suguru, always the calm voice of reason, chimed in from beside him, hands casually tucked into his pockets. “We’re going to be there too, Satoru.” he pointed out, his tone laced with subtle amusement. “Are we just chopped liver to you?”
Shoko, ever the instigator, snickered at the exchange. “When it comes to our senpai, that big baby is going to be thinking about him.”
Satoru’s indignant protest was immediate. “Hey, I’m not a big baby!”
Before you could respond, Haibara’s grin lit up the conversation. “I’ll go too! I think it would be fun to see how Bishamon temples do festivals.”
Nanami, however, wasn’t as enthusiastic. “I don’t.” he mumbled under his breath, pushing his hair out of his face with a resigned air. “It would be too cold. And I don’t wanna get a cold.”
"Hey! You'll offend senpai like that!" Haibara pouted at Kento.
Nanami Kento turned to you with a blank face. "Does it offend you, senpai?"
"Not at all." You grinned at him.
"See, they don't mind."
"Huh!? But I do!" Gojo Satoru retorted back. "You're going, Nanami!"
"I don't wanna."
"No, you're going!"
"Satoru, don't be so loud."
"But Suguboo!"
"I can't believe I'm stuck with all of you." Shoko huffed, cigarette smooke coming out of her mouth.
Despite your earlier reservations, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through you at the thought of all of them wanting to be with you for the New Year. It was going to be a lively celebration, that much was certain. Even after many times you’ve told them to not go, they still told you they were going. And sure enough, it was too cold all the way around. 
Nanami sighed, adjusting the scarf around his neck as they neared the temple gates. "This is ridiculous. We could have celebrated in Tokyo."
Haibara, ever the optimist, smiled brightly at his friend. "Don’t worry, Nanami. I’m sure everything will be well. It’s New Year’s day, after all. We should be celebrating together."
As they reached the top of the steps, they were greeted by the sight of Kusakabe and Utahime already there, standing near the entrance of the temple. Iori Utahime was wrapped in a thick coat, her breath visible in the chilly air. Beside her, Kusakabe Atsuya was typing away on his flip phone. When Utahime spotted Satoru, her expression immediately shifted to one of irritation.
"Why are you here, Gojo?" she asked, her voice carrying a mix of suspicion and annoyance.
Satoru grinned at her, his usual carefree attitude on full display. "Because I’m your favorite kouhai, of course!" he replied, his tone teasing as ever. “Aren’t you happy? To be graced by my presence, Utahime?”
Utahime’s eye twitched in irritation, and she started towards him, clearly ready to give him a piece of her mind. But before she could get too close, Kusakabe quickly stepped in, gently pulling her back. Everyone was looking at them but none of that mattered to Gojo Satoru who continued to grin at his elder.
"Utahime, let it go. It’s New Year’s day!" he urged, trying to keep the peace. “Senpai’s also here, we can’t cause headaches for them!”
"But he—!" Utahime began, only to be cut off by Kusakabe, who was already steering her towards the temple entrance, hoping to diffuse the situation.
Satoru just chuckled, clearly enjoying the reaction he’d gotten out of her. "She’s so easy to rile up." he said to Suguru, who merely shook his head with a smirk.
Shoko, who had been watching the exchange with a bemused expression, nudged Satoru. "Maybe try not to annoy everyone before the night even begins." she suggested, though there was little bite to her words. “Utahime, don’t mind him.”
"Where’s the fun in that?" Satoru quipped, but he did ease off, his attention shifting to the temple grounds. He leaned towards Shoko. “Heh, love sick.”
Shoko slapped his arm. He flinched and groaned in pain. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
You emerged from the temple just as they were finishing up their banter, surprised to see so many familiar faces. "I thought I told you guys not to bother coming all the way out here." you said, though there was no mistaking the warmth in your tone. It was clear you were happy to see them, despite your earlier protests. “It’s very busy here, I didn’t want you guys to suffer waiting.”
Satoru stepped forward, handing you a small package wrapped in festive paper. "No way we were letting you celebrate alone, senpai! Besides, it wouldn’t be a proper New Year without you. Or me. Together.”
“Heh, love sick.” Suguru snickered lowly.
“Shut up!” Satoru slapped his arm. 
You accepted the gift with a smile, though your gaze softened at the sight of them all gathered together. "I appreciate it. Truly.”
Nanami, still grumbling under his breath, finally spoke up. "Next year, we’re doing this in Tokyo."
Haibara laughed, patting Nanami on the back. "We’ll see about that, Nanami. For now, let’s just enjoy the night."
As the group made their way inside, the temple's warm glow and the smell of incense welcomed them. The sounds of laughter and conversation filled the air as they prepared to ring in the New Year together. Despite the long journey and the cold, it was clear that none of them would have wanted to be anywhere else.
You ushered everyone inside the temple, the warmth from the lit braziers immediately driving away the chill of the winter night. The monks at the temple were handing out hot drinks to keep warm. Nanami took two, as the others enjoyed one. Satoru thinks that it was sweet plum tea, but it’s not sweet enough for him.
The temple’s interior was adorned with traditional New Year’s decorations—pine branches, plum blossoms, and bamboo, all carefully arranged to welcome the coming year.  Gojo Satoru was often here as a child, being a descendant of Hiromi.
He can pinpoint the places he had studied with his Mikoto teachers. But he has never seen it in this way, with all its vibrant decorations. He supposed that he was always celebrating New Years at those boring clan parties. 
The air was thick with the fragrant scent of incense, and the sound of gentle chanting echoed softly through the corridors. The bells rang as people prayed in front of the statue of Bishamon. The line was the longest he had ever seen, probably longer than when he buys new Digimon merchandise. But he supposed that it would be the case. The Hiromi Shrine was the most popular of the Bishamon worship shrines in Kyoto, especially because of the performances.
"Make yourselves comfortable." you told them with a smile. "I’ll be back soon. I have to prepare for the dance offering to Bishamon. It’s a tradition I have to lead."
“Heh, you dance, senpai?” Shoko questioned, drinking her plum tea. “Just like Utahime.”
You smiled back at her. “Hm. I’m a priestess in Mikoto shrines also. Bishamon likes being praised, after all. So, it is part of our duty.”
“Your dancing has always been immaculate, senpai.” Utahime cheered as she looked towards you. “Graceful as always.”
“Does this mean you know this?” Suguru turned to Satoru with a curious face. “You have common ancestry with that, don’t you?”
“I was taught, but I wasn’t allowed to perform it.” Satoru retorted back, fixing his glasses. “I’m still a Gojo, you know?”
“I’ll be going now.” You tell them, fixing the pleats on your haori. “I still have to change clothing.”
“Good luck, senpai!” Haibara says, clapping his hands. Nanami mumbled the same but in a lower tone.
You giggled. “You have my thanks. Enjoy the show, okay?”
The group nodded in silent agreement, their eyes following your form as you disappeared deeper into the temple. The faint sound of your footsteps echoed briefly before being swallowed by the hushed serenity of the sacred space. As the heavy wooden doors closed behind you, a soft thud resonated through the air, leaving them standing in the warm, golden glow of the temple's main hall.
The ancient architecture loomed around them, exuding an aura of timelessness and reverence. Flickering candles cast gentle, dancing shadows across the polished floors, while the subtle scent of incense hung in the air, intertwining with the soft murmur of distant prayers. It was a place where the divine felt near, a sanctuary where the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the sacred atmosphere to envelop them.
Each of them felt the weight of the temple’s history, the centuries of devotion embedded in its very walls. Here, in this tranquil space, they were reminded of the depth of their connection to you, and the unspoken bond that drew them all together, even in the quietest of moments.
Satoru leaned against a pillar, his eyes following the path you had taken. "This is a big deal." he said, breaking the silence. "The dance offered to Bishamon isn’t just for show. It’s a prayer for protection, strength, and victory in the coming year. As descendants of the Hiromi clan, it has to be taken with care and concentration.”
Shoko, intrigued, glanced at him. "So you know all about this, then? In great detail."
Satoru shrugged, a hint of pride in his voice. "Yeah, I’ve seen it done before, in the Mikoto household. But senpai… they’ve always taken it to another level. They’re the real deal when it comes to this tradition."
Suguru nodded thoughtfully, glancing around at the intricate decorations. "It’s rare to see someone so deeply connected to their heritage like this. It’s impressive."
Nanami, still somewhat grumpy from the trip, nevertheless looked interested. "It must be a lot of pressure, carrying on such an important tradition."
"It is. She’s the only third one to hold Hiromi’s cursed technique. So she’s held in high regard." Satoru agreed, his gaze still fixed on the doors you had disappeared through. "But senpai handles it like it’s nothing. That’s just how they are."
As they talked, the soft sounds of preparations being made drifted through the temple. The atmosphere grew more reverent, the chatter fading into a respectful silence as they waited for the ceremony to begin.
When the doors finally opened again, they all turned to look. You emerged, dressed in the finest Heian-era clothing, each layer of silk and brocade meticulously arranged. The colors were vibrant, yet harmonious, a testament to the skill and care that had gone into the ensemble. Your hair was styled in the traditional manner, adorned with delicate ornaments that caught the light as you moved.
The group fell silent, their eyes drawn to you as you approached the altar. Gojo Satoru felt his breath catch in his throat, completely awe-struck. He had seen you in combat, had witnessed your strength and skill countless times, but this was different. This was a side of you he had never truly seen before—regal, composed, every movement filled with grace and purpose.
As you took your place before the altar, the room seemed to hold its breath. The flickering candlelight reflected off the golden statue of Bishamon, the god of war and warriors, who stood as the protector of the temple. You began to dance, your movements slow and deliberate, each gesture a prayer offered up to the deity.
The bells chimed softly in time with your steps, the melody hauntingly beautiful. The sleeves of your kimono floated gracefully through the air, and the rhythm of your movements told a story of reverence, dedication, and unbroken tradition. Every step, every turn, was imbued with a power that transcended the physical, connecting the past with the present, the divine with the mortal.
Satoru was mesmerized, his usual playful demeanor replaced with an expression of deep respect and admiration. He had always known you were special, but seeing you like this—fully embracing your role as a descendant of the Hiromi clan, leading this sacred ritual with such grace and authority—was something he hadn’t anticipated.
As the dance continued, the room seemed to glow with a warmth that went beyond the physical. It was as if the very spirit of the temple had come alive, watching over the ritual with benevolent eyes. The other sorcerers watched in respectful silence, each of them feeling the weight of the moment, understanding that they were witnessing something truly sacred.
When the dance finally came to an end, you stood before the altar, hands folded in a final gesture of prayer. The room was silent, the only sound was the soft crackling of the braziers. Then, slowly, you turned to face your audience, your expression calm and serene.
The group remained silent, each of them still processing what they had just witnessed. Satoru, however, couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. He had always known you were extraordinary, but tonight, that belief had been solidified in a way he hadn’t expected.
As you stepped down from the altar, Satoru caught your eye, and for a brief moment, there was an understanding between you—something that didn’t need to be spoken. It was in the quiet awe in his gaze, in the way he nodded slightly, acknowledging what you had just done.
"That was… amazing." Shoko finally said, breaking the silence, her voice filled with genuine admiration.
“Right?” Utahime grinned from ear to ear. “Senpai’s been practicing this for months!”
“I always wondered how they have the time to do all this.” Kusakabe whispered under his breath. “That was just….amazing.”
Suguru nodded in agreement, a rare look of respect on his usually calm face. "Yeah. Truly."
Nanami, who had been skeptical about the whole thing, couldn’t help but nod as well. "I can see why this tradition is so important."
Haibara, always the optimist, beamed at you. "You were incredible, senpai!"
You smiled softly, bowing your head in thanks. "Thank you. I’m glad you could all be here to witness it. It means a lot to me."
As the night continued, the group moved on to the other festivities, but Satoru remained quiet, still caught up in the image of you dancing under the temple’s sacred light. He knew he would never forget this New Year, nor the way you had shown them all the true depth of your heritage and strength.
As the night wore on, the temple grounds gradually filled with the sounds of celebration. The solemnity of the ritual had given way to a more festive atmosphere, with laughter and chatter echoing off the ancient stone walls. The group of sorcerers mingled, sharing stories and enjoying the warmth of the small fires that had been lit to stave off the winter chill.
Satoru, however, found himself oddly quiet amidst the festivities. He stood a little apart from the others, his gaze often drifting back to where you were, speaking with Utahime and Kusakabe near the shrine. The image of you during the dance was still fresh in his mind, replaying over and over again like a scene from a film.
He had always admired you—respected you, even. You were his dependable senpai, someone who had taught him much, someone who had always been there. But tonight, something had shifted.
The way you had moved, the way you had commanded the space during the ritual, had revealed a side of you that he hadn’t fully grasped before. It wasn’t just about strength or skill. It was about who you were at your core—a person deeply connected to your heritage, someone who carried the weight of tradition with grace and dignity.
As he watched you now, a realization began to creep up on him, one that he hadn’t seen coming. It wasn’t just admiration he felt. There was something more—something deeper that made his heart beat a little faster, made him more aware of your every movement, every word. 
It hit him all at once, like a sudden gust of wind that took his breath away. Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the one who was always so sure of himself, found himself completely and utterly disarmed by this newfound awareness.
He liked you. A lot. More than he hoped.
The thought was startling, and for a moment, he didn’t know what to do with it. Love wasn’t something he had ever given much thought to—his life was too chaotic, too filled with danger and responsibility. But standing here, watching you laugh with the others, he couldn’t deny it. It was there, unmistakable and undeniable, a feeling that had been building without him even realizing it.
Shoko noticed his distant expression and wandered over, nudging him with her elbow. "You’ve been quiet. What’s going on in that head of yours?"
Satoru blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. He glanced at Shoko, then back at you, still trying to process what he had just figured out. "Just… thinking." he said, his voice a little softer than usual.
Shoko raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "That’s a first. What about?"
He hesitated for a moment, then gave a small, almost sheepish smile. "Senpai."
Shoko followed his gaze and immediately understood. Her usual smirk softened into something more genuine. "You’ve got it bad, huh?"
Satoru sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah… I think I do."
Shoko didn’t tease him this time. Instead, she nodded thoughtfully, her gaze lingering on you. "You know, it’s not surprising. They’re… special."
"Yeah." Satoru agreed quietly, his eyes never leaving you. "They really are."
The two of them stood there in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Satoru felt a strange mix of emotions—excitement, anxiety, and something he wasn’t quite sure how to name. Love was a powerful thing, and for someone like him, it was both thrilling and terrifying.
But as he watched you smile, saw the way you interacted with the people around you, he knew one thing for certain: whatever came next, whatever he had to face because of this realization, he was ready for it. Because this feeling, this love—he knew it was worth it.
"Guess I’ve got some things to figure out," he muttered, more to himself than to Shoko.
She chuckled softly. "You’ll manage. You always do."
Satoru smiled, feeling a little more grounded. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do about this newfound love, but for now, just knowing it, acknowledging it, was enough. The night was still young, and there was time—time to enjoy this moment, time to figure out what to do next.
As the celebration continued, he allowed himself to relax, to savor the warmth of the fire and the sound of your laughter. There was no rush. For the first time in a long while, Satoru Gojo was content to just be—content to stand by, to watch, and to let his heart lead him wherever it wanted to go.
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February 2010
HE HAD NEVER EXPECTED THIS OUT OF HIS LIFE. In the first months after your marriage, Gojo Satoru found himself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions he hadn’t fully anticipated. Marriage, to him, had always been an abstract concept—something distant and almost inconceivable.
After all, he was Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, someone who walked a path few could follow, always teetering on the edge of danger. He had grown accustomed to a life where attachments were fleeting, where relationships were superficial at best, and where he never had to worry about being tied down by anything or anyone.
But now, everything had changed. With a simple gold band on his finger, a tangible symbol of a bond he never thought he’d have, Satoru realized he was in completely unfamiliar territory. The weight of that ring was more than just the metal—it was the responsibility, the commitment, and the vulnerability that came with it.
In those early days, he found himself waking up in the middle of the night, his hand subconsciously reaching out to make sure you were still there, a silent reassurance that this wasn’t just a dream. He’d never been one to fear anything, but the thought of losing you, of this newfound connection slipping through his fingers, sent a chill down his spine. It was a feeling he didn’t quite know how to process—a mixture of fear and protectiveness, of love and uncertainty.
Satoru had always prided himself on being in control, of being able to predict and outmaneuver any threat. But this—this was different. Loving you, being married to you, was something he couldn’t strategize his way through. There were no enemies to defeat, no curses to exorcize, just the simple, profound reality of sharing his life with someone else. And that terrified him more than he cared to admit.
He’d catch himself watching you when you weren’t looking, his gaze softening in a way that was so unlike the confident, cocky sorcerer everyone knew. He marveled at how easily you fit into his life, how you managed to break through the walls he had built up over the years. The way you understood him, the way you didn’t flinch in the face of his power or his occasional bouts of arrogance—it was as if you had always been meant to be there, by his side, grounding him in a way nothing else ever had.
But with that grounding came a vulnerability that Satoru wasn’t used to. He was no longer just the strongest sorcerer—he was your husband, a role that demanded a different kind of strength, one that he was still learning to wield. The idea of being responsible for someone else’s happiness, of being someone you could rely on, made him question everything he thought he knew about himself. Could he really be the partner you deserved? Could he protect you not just from the dangers of the world, but from his own flaws and insecurities?
These questions haunted him in the quiet moments, when the world slowed down and it was just the two of you. He was used to facing challenges head-on, but this was different. This was about being present, being open, being honest—things that didn’t come naturally to him. And yet, despite the doubts and the fears, there was something about being with you that made him want to try, to be better, to grow into the role he never thought he’d take on.
As the months passed, Satoru began to understand that marriage wasn’t about being perfect, or about having all the answers. It was about the journey you were both on, together, learning and growing with each step.
He realized that it was okay to be unsure, to be afraid, as long as he was willing to face those fears with you by his side. And slowly, he started to let go of the idea that he had to be invincible, that he had to carry the weight of the world on his own. Because now, he had you, and that was a strength unlike anything he had ever known.
He’d never been one to doubt himself, but when it came to you, things were different. There were moments when he would catch himself overthinking, a rarity for him. Did you really want to be married to him, or had circumstances forced your hand? The thought gnawed at him more often than he’d like to admit.
After all, your relationship hadn’t exactly been conventional. You had always been enigmatic, revealing only pieces of yourself when asked, keeping much of your life private. Even when Satoru confessed his feelings, he wasn’t entirely sure how you felt. You accepted his proposal, but he couldn’t shake the lingering suspicion that you might have done so out of obligation or to avoid being entangled with the Zen’in clan—a fate worse than anything he could imagine for you.
There were nights when he would lie awake, staring at the ceiling of your shared room, trying to figure out how to navigate this new reality. He loved you—he knew that much. But he was terrified that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t feel the same. Maybe you had simply chosen the lesser of two evils, and he was the one left trying to make sense of it all.
Satoru wasn’t used to feeling insecure. He was used to being in control, always confident in his abilities and decisions. But with you, everything was different. You were his equal in so many ways—strong, intelligent, capable—but you were also someone he couldn’t quite read, someone who could keep secrets even from him.
One evening, as you both sat in the quiet of your home, Satoru couldn’t keep it in any longer. You were sipping tea, looking as serene as ever, while he fidgeted with his hands, uncharacteristically restless.
“Can I ask you something?” he began, his voice quieter than usual.
You looked up at him, sensing the shift in his tone. “Of course.”
He hesitated, unsure of how to phrase what he wanted to ask. “When we got married… Did you… I mean, did you want to?”
You raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I just—sometimes I wonder if you did it because you really wanted to or because it was… the better option. Better than being forced into something with the Zen'in clan.”
You set your tea down, regarding him carefully. For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of his question hanging in the air. Then, you reached out, taking his hand in yours.
“Satoru…..” you began, your voice steady, “I won’t lie to you. I didn’t have the kind of love story that most people dream of. My life was never about fairy tales or perfect endings. And yes, part of me did see our marriage as a way to avoid a fate I didn’t want.” You squeezed his hand, your gaze never leaving his. “But that’s not the only reason I said yes.”
His breath caught as he listened, his eyes searching yours for any sign of insincerity. “Then what made you say yes, to me being your husband?”
“I said yes because I trust you.” you continued, your voice soft but firm. “I trust you in ways I’ve never trusted anyone before. And… I wanted to see where that could lead. I may not have been in love with you when we first got married, but I knew there was potential for something real between us. Something worth exploring.”
Satoru’s heart swelled at your words, but there was still a part of him that needed to know more. “And now?” he asked quietly. “How do you feel now?”
You smiled, a genuine, warm smile that reached your eyes. “Now? I don’t regret it for a second. You’ve become someone I care about deeply, someone I respect and… yes, someone I can truly….deeply love.”
The relief that washed over Satoru was almost overwhelming. He hadn’t realized just how much he had to hear those words until you spoke them. He knew that maybe you felt them, maybe you shared his feelings, his understanding. But to hear them? That’s a whole different thing. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his usual confidence beginning to return.
“Good….good.” he murmured, pulling you into his arms, holding you close. “Because I really, really care deeply for you, and maybe one day…..I wasn’t sure what I’d do if you didn’t feel the same.”
You chuckled softly, resting your head against his chest. “I guess we’re both learning how to navigate this together, aren’t we?”
“Yeah.” he agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “But I think we’ll figure it out. After all, we’re together. We can handle anything.”
And in that moment, with you in his arms, Satoru knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, he was ready to face them. Because he wasn’t alone—he had you, and that was more than enough.
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epilogue
March 2015
It was one of those rare, peaceful afternoons when everything seemed to align perfectly. The sun was shining, a gentle breeze was blowing, and the Gojo household was uncharacteristically quiet. Well, almost quiet. 
Satoru Gojo, the ever-proud husband and now father, was lounging on the couch with a smirk that could light up a room. In front of him stood Megumi and Tsumiki, both of them sporting expressions of mild confusion and curiosity.
Satoru had been waiting for this moment—when the kids would finally ask about the somewhat mysterious nature of his marriage to you. And now, with Satoshi—a tiny bundle of energy strapped to Satoru’s chest in a baby carrier—he was more than ready to provide an answer.
“So, how did you and Gen–san end up married?” Tsumiki asked, her tone innocent but her eyes sharp, clearly expecting an interesting story.
Megumi, ever the skeptic, folded his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, it doesn’t really make sense. You’re you… and they’re… well, them.”
Satoru grinned, patting Satoshi’s back gently as the baby cooed happily in the carrier. “Why, that’s easy! It’s because they love me!” 
The room went silent for a moment as Megumi and Tsumiki processed Satoru’s answer. The stillness hung in the air, almost as if time itself had paused. Then, Megumi rolled his eyes in that exasperated way he often did, clearly unimpressed by whatever explanation Satoru had given this time. Tsumiki, on the other hand, couldn’t help but giggle, her laughter light and infectious, breaking the tension with ease.
Little Satoshi, cradled comfortably against Satoru’s chest, joined in with his own soft laughter, the sound a mix of pure joy and innocence. His tiny hands clutched at Satoru’s shirt, his laughter causing his small body to wiggle slightly in his father’s arms.
Satoru blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the chorus of reactions around him. For a brief second, he looked almost confused, as if he hadn’t quite expected that response. But then, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, softening his usual cocky expression. In that moment, surrounded by the ones he loved, Satoru felt a warmth in his chest that made everything else seem distant and unimportant.
“That can’t be the whole story.” Megumi muttered, clearly unimpressed with Satoru’s self-satisfied grin. “I won’t believe Gen–san falling in love with you like that.”
Tsumiki leaned forward, her curiosity piqued. “Come on, Satoru–san, there has to be more to it than that.”
Satoru chuckled, his trademark grin still plastered on his face. “Well, if you must know, it all started with my irresistible charm. I mean, who wouldn’t fall in love with this face?” He pointed to himself, looking ridiculously smug.
Satoshi, catching on to his father’s infectious good mood, giggled and clapped his tiny hands, making the whole scenSatoshi, catching on to his father’s infectious good mood, giggled and clapped his tiny hands with pure delight. The sound of his laughter, so innocent and full of life, echoed through the room, adding to the already absurd scene. His bright eyes sparkled as he looked up at Satoru, clearly enjoying the attention and the light-hearted atmosphere.
Satoru’s smile grew wider as he watched his son, the absurdity of the moment not lost on him. The combination of Megumi’s eye roll, Tsumiki’s giggles, and Satoshi’s adorable antics made the whole situation feel almost surreal—like a snapshot of a life he had never imagined for himself, yet couldn’t imagine living without now.e even more absurd. Life was great, he thinks. No matter what happened before.
Megumi groaned, rubbing his temples as if dealing with Satoru was giving him a headache. “You’re impossible.”
“Thank you!” Satoru responded cheerfully, clearly missing—or ignoring—the point.
Tsumiki, always the more patient of the two, tried again. “But really, what made you two decide to get married? Was it some big romantic gesture?”
Satoru paused, his grin softening as he thought back to the moments leading up to your marriage. “It wasn’t really like that,’miki.” he said, his tone more genuine now. “It was more… complicated. But in the end, we realized we wanted to be together. And so we made it happen.”
Megumi and Tsumiki exchanged a look, sensing there was more to the story than Satoru was letting on. That doesn’t seem to be how you told the story. You were more straightforward than your husband, but Satoru got the complicated right. Nothing about the story was ever simple. But now that you are here, nearly five years later. What is complicated to a whole lifetime of happiness?
“And then they fell head over heels in love with me!” Satoru added quickly, not wanting to lose the lightheartedness of the moment. “Then bam! You guys came into our lives and made more love grow! Like kabam!”
Tsumiki laughed again, shaking her head. “You’re such a goof, Satoru-san.”
“Maybe I am, ‘miki!” Satoru replied, his grin returning full force. “But I’m their goof, and that’s all that matters.”
Megumi sighed but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I guess if they can put up with you, that says something.”
Satoru beamed, clearly taking that as a compliment. “Exactly! Now, who wants ice cream? Satoshi here has a craving.”
As if on cue, Satoshi babbled happily, his tiny hands reaching up toward Satoru’s face, his little fingers grasping at the air as he tried to touch his father. Satoru leaned down slightly, letting Satoshi’s hands brush against his cheeks, a soft chuckle escaping his lips at the child’s excitement.
Tsumiki giggled at the sight, her amusement evident. “I think that’s just you, Satoru-san,” she teased, her tone playful.
Satoru shrugged, completely unbothered by the light jab. “Well, Satoshi is my son,” he declared with a grin, gently nuzzling his cheek against Satoshi’s tiny hand. “My little dawn, my copycat! He’s bound to inherit my great taste in sweets!” 
His words were met with another round of giggles from Tsumiki, while Satoshi, as if understanding his father’s pride, continued to babble cheerfully, his joy infectious and filling the room with warmth. You finally came around the corner, fully dressed to go out for the day. You grinned at everyone.
“My love! Woah, you look dashingly extraordinarily fantastically—”
“Satoru.” You giggled, looking into his deep cerulean eyes. Full of love, full of wonder— for you. “Your compliments don’t have to be that long, baby.”
“Huh!? But how will the world know how much I love my beloved?”
You smiled, walking over to him. You placed a kiss on Satoshi’s massive cheeks, eliciting him to laugh. Then you looked at your husband and leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. He smiled against your lips, enjoying the touch of your lips against his own. When you parted lips, he looked dazed with love for you.
“New lip gloss?” He asked you, grinning. “It’s more fruity than before.”
“Do you love it?”
He grinned harder. “I do!”
“Ugh, married people.” Megumi gagged, looking at the two of you. 
Tsumiki swooned with a smile on her face. “Ah, married people.”
With that, the conversation shifted to plans for an impromptu ice cream outing, and any lingering questions about your marriage to Satoru were put on hold—at least for now. Sweets came first in your family. But as they all headed out the door, there was a sense of contentment in the air, a feeling that whatever the story behind your marriage was, it was something that had brought everyone closer together. And that, in the end, was all that really mattered.
As the four of you headed out to the nearest ice cream shop, the lively chatter filled the air. Satoru, as usual, was at the center of attention, effortlessly juggling his roles as the strongest sorcerer, doting father, and husband with a charm that was uniquely his.
Satoshi, snug in his baby carrier, was babbling away, occasionally pulling at Satoru’s white hair, fascinated by its softness. Tsumiki walked beside them, laughing at Satoshi’s antics, while Megumi trailed slightly behind, trying to mask his amusement with an air of indifference.
Once you reached the shop, Satoru wasted no time in ordering a variety of flavors—far more than anyone could reasonably eat. He carried the overflowing tray of cones and cups to a table outside, grinning as he set it down.
“Alright, everyone, dig in!” he announced, looking far too pleased with himself.
Tsumiki eagerly grabbed a rainbow sprinkle cone, and even Megumi couldn’t resist picking out his favorite flavor, chocolate chip. You grabbed pistachio and your husband Satoru took a seat, carefully adjusting Satoshi in his carrier before picking up his own ice cream. He looked around at his little makeshift family, his heart swelling with a mix of pride and contentment.
As they enjoyed their treat, Tsumiki’s curiosity got the better of her again. “Satoru–san, do you think Satoshi will grow up to be like you?”
Satoru smirked, scooping up a generous amount of ice cream. “Well, he’s got the looks for it, that’s for sure,” he said, tapping Satoshi’s nose with a finger. “But as for the rest, who knows? He’s got plenty of time to figure out what kind of person he wants to be.”
Megumi, ever the realist, chimed in. “Let’s hope he doesn’t inherit your ego.”
Tsumiki tried to stifle her giggle while Satoru feigned offense, dramatically clutching his chest. “My ego? I prefer to think of it as confidence. And besides, who wouldn’t want to be like me? I’m the complete package!”
“Because they love me!” Tsumiki teased, echoing Satoru’s earlier statement with a playful grin.
Satoru’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he leaned back in his chair. “Exactly! See, Tsumiki gets it.”
You smiled, shaking your head. “You are too much, Satoru.”
“But you love me, don’t you?”
“Fortunately, yes. I do.”
Megumi shook his head, but there was a faint smile on his lips. Despite the banter, it was clear to him how much Satoru cared for you and the life you’d built together. Satoru might joke around, but there was no denying the depth of his feelings, especially when it came to you and Satoshi.
After a while, the conversation turned to other topics—school, upcoming missions, and plans for the weekend. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm golden glow over the scene. As they sat there, laughing and talking, it was easy to forget the pressures of their world, if only for a little while.
Finally, when all the ice cream was gone and Satoshi was starting to get sleepy, they decided to head back home. Satoru, now carrying a drowsy Satoshi in his arms, led the way, still chatting animatedly with Tsumiki and Megumi as they walked. Your shopping bags filled one hand and the other, a matcha drink you so adored.
As they neared your home, Megumi suddenly asked, “So, do you think you guys will want more kids?”
You choked on your drink. You coughed. Megumi looked panicked at your state. You haven’t really thought about more kids. Having Megumi, Tsumiki and Satoshi felt more than enough. Tsumiki handed you a wet wipe, worry evident on her face. She took the matcha drink so you could clean yourself.
“You alright, my love?” Satoru asked, fear in his face. “Megumi, get water!”
Megumi nodded as he rushed off. You cleaned your face from the matcha.“I’m…I’m fine. Don’t worry. Just surprised, that's all.”
Megumi finally came back and handed you water. You smiled at him and drank the water slowly. You thanked the boy, patting his head with your free hand. Satoru took a breath of relief and paused, glancing down at the now peacefully sleeping Satoshi, his expression softening. 
“We don’t know yet, about more kids. We haven’t thought about it yet.” he said thoughtfully. “If that’s something we both want, then why not? After all, I think we make a pretty good team.”
Tsumiki smiled, nudging Megumi. “I think it would be nice if Satoshi had a little brother or sister to play with.”
Megumi, trying to maintain his usual indifferent facade, just shrugged. “As long as Satoru–san doesn’t try to turn them all into mini versions of himself.”
You smiled. “Another version of me would be a change, don’t you think?”
“Satoru–san would spoil them!” Tsumiki grinned. “I would too!”
Satoru chuckled, shaking his head. “Hey, I wouldn’t dream of them being like me. I don’t want them to be. Everyone’s got to find their own path, right? I just want them to be happy and strong enough to protect what’s important to them.”
He looks at you and grins. “But another version of you I could hold dear and treasure? I would be the happiest man.”
“Simp.” Megumi snickered as you put down the shopping bags. 
As they reached the door, Satoru turned to face them, his grin returning. “And what about it? I’m proud of being a loving husband!”
“What Satoru said, that includes you two as well.” You smiled at Megumi and Tsumiki. “You’re all part of this family now, whether you like it or not. Okay?”
Megumi rolled his eyes, but the small smile on his face gave him away. “Yeah, yeah. Just don’t go getting any more ideas.”
Tsumiki giggled, and Satoru opened the door, ushering them all inside. “No promises!”
The door closed behind them, shutting out the world as the Gojo household settled in for another evening. And as Satoru laid Satoshi down in his crib, watching the tiny baby sleep, he couldn’t help but feel that life, with all its chaos and surprises, had turned out pretty damn good. And he wouldn’t change a thing.
He smiled to himself, knowing that whatever the future held, he was ready to face it with you, Satoshi, and the rest of the family by his side. Because in the end, it wasn’t just about being the strongest—it was about being loved, and loving in return. And that was something even Satoru Gojo knew he couldn’t do alone.
397 notes · View notes
pcheyes · 8 months
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the music god from your pre calculus class
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pairing: anton x fem reader
genre: fluff, strangers to friends ??
warnings: none
synopsis: the person who sits in your seat before you always puts music recommendations in the calculator, and you’re dying to know who it is
word count: 638
song suggestions: somethin stupid-frank sinatra
you walked into your pre calculus class and sat down. immediately you notice the calculator.
it isnt a fancy calculator, its just a school provided one, with a creepy eye drawing in the back. but everyday someone in the class before you types a song recommendation.
COME THRU-H.E.R.
everyday you try and get to class early to find the elusive person with the really good music taste, but you never catch them. you ask around for who sits there but they all laugh and walk away. you pull out your phone and go to spotify to add yet another song to your playlist called “randos music recommendations”. the playlist ranged from rnb, classical, jazz, to kpop. you continue the class trying to take notes but your mind wanders so you listen to his song from yesterday
FEATHER-SABRINA CARPENTER
‘who’s this person who leaves these songs?’
‘are they hot?’
‘what if im hallucinating all these songs?’
the bell rings and you walk to your next class, listening to the new song. 
⊹☾⋆⁺₊🎧✩°。
today you were determined.
and you had a plan
you would fake sick to get a pass to the nurses office before your calculus class, and you would creep towards the room and look in to see who sits there. the time came to fake cramps to go to the nurses office and when you did you made a beeline to the calculus class. theres a window peaking into the class so you decided to watch from there. you scope the classroom to find your seat and the mysterious music god who blesses you every day.
and when you do.
oh god you almost slipped from the stool you were standing on because he was beautiful. he had his headphones on and was working on the problem. the class period was ending so he started typing his song recommendation for the day. his friends came over and started talking to him. 
“dude are you ever gonna face her? these song thingies were sweet at first but its getting sad. you always relace your shoes and stretch so you can get out before she comes. i’ve been saying i dont know you for a solid week now” his friend said as he scoffed “sohee what the heck!” the headphone boy said (you had named him that once you saw his headphones) “what ever. i need a headstart, i think i heard her friends say shes sprinting to calc today. i cant take any chances.” he starts stretching and relacing his shoes. the bell rings and he runs out the class. you grab your bag and run after him. he ends off at the orchestra hall and you yank him by his backpack. he yelps and locks eyes with you.
“i finally found you, you music god!” you say out of breath.
he laughs “oh goody!”
“dude who the hell says oh goody” 
“sorry” he says. “look i’m late for my orchestra practice so could you just uh, god you’re really pretty, look at the calculator and call it a day” 
you pull out a market and motion for him to stick out his forearm. he gives it to you and you write your number on his forearm. 
“make sure to send all your song recommendations to me. my ears are blessed after your beautiful songs or something.” his cheeks turn a deep scarlet. “oh uh yeah sure sure i’ll send it to you totally.” you nod and start walking away. suddenly he shouts after you “your hair looks really pretty today! not that it doesnt look pretty every day, i just like the slick back in the front, with the little curls in the front. it frames your face really well. makes you look extra beautiful.” you smile back at him.
“thanks music boy”
authors note: we need to bring back loser anton, he hasnt been his loser self since love 119. but i actually do this everyday in maths class and someone caught me leaving the class late and screamed “ITS THE MUSIC GIRL !!” but thanks to @chlorinecake and @kairoot for the songs !!
taglist: @unikivrse msg or comment to be added
feedback, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated
548 notes · View notes
lemon-pilled · 3 months
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It's creepy to be liked by everyone in the world, But I want to hold hands with you in a classroom where we can’t connect
idk the song doesnt really fit dante but that first line has me in a chokehold (sorry rodion i didnt meant to get you covered up but hey! everyones here!)
209 notes · View notes
simplyvyn · 2 months
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224 DAYS WITH YOU.
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Nagi, lying for love? Thats not like him. But it is him. And he will love you today, tomorrow and forever. Even if it is just a fragment of his memory.
Seishiro Nagi x reader | wc 3.7k
Warnings: fluff to angst, ooc Nagi, implied fem! Reader, sick! Reader, some parts of this oneshot may not be similar to the original series i was gonna make, reader has like parent issues but it can be ignored
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You were minding your own business at your class, there were only a few of your classmates in the classroom. Guess you were early. The door opened, a white haired boy entered, he was with a purple haired boy. You didn't mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, they were only two steps from your seat.
"Reo, give back my nintendo switch."
"Not until you ask someone out. I can't believe you haven't even tried having a date. Let alone a crush at all."
"But 's such a hassle.."
"Just pick anyone! At all!"
And so he did.
Looking around for a few seconds, you felt his eyes land on you, even if you weren't looking. He wasn't gonna ask you, right?
Until the door opened, your teacher came in and the lesson started. The whole class, you felt a pair of eyes on you. You think it was from that white haired boy- what's his name anyways? Nagi was it?- Nagi Seishiro? Yea, that. Anyway, whenever you check him, his head seems to be plopped down on his forearms, on top of his table like he's sleeping.
Class ended and you stood up. Every student in your class left as you fixed up your items in your table, everyone seems to be in a rush.
"Hey. You." You startled when someone spoke, you look up at the voice and noticed Nagi. When you look up he asks you the golden question. Or request.
"Go out w' me."
You? You already ended things with your last boyfriend, thinking that he was your last. You only have at least a few months. You made sure nothing special will be left attached to you once you're gone.
"U-uh, yea, sure. Where exactly?" You asked as you held your bag in your arms. "Just the mall, lets go to the arcade?" That does seem kind of cute. So why not? After all this all will be fake anyways. You heard everything.
After that conversation, you asked for his number and waited for school to end. Eventually school ended and you went home.
You entered your cosy abode, taking off your shoes and putting it aside on the shelves. "I'm home." You spoke.
You were all alone.
You just took of your shoes with a sigh, putting them aside and going upstairs to your bedroom. Going back, the least thing you expected as of today was a date. You adming Seishiro Nagi had looks. But would having a date with him really matter?
Speaking of the date, you never asked when it is, did you? You decided to chat him.
Y/N: Hi Nagi! I didn't actually got to ask you, when is the date exactly? TT
You thought he'd probably reply late since he might be doing some soccer stuff so you scrolled down to your social media. To your suprise, a notification popped up from Nagi
Y/N: Hi Nagi! I didn't actually got to ask you, when is the date exactly? TT
Nagi: Tmr, after school. Is that good?
Y/N: Yea, sure! ^^
Nagi reacted heart on your message.
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Time seemed faster than it usually did. Class ended, and you two eventually were off on your date. You two went to the arcade immediately and played alot of games. He even played a claw machine and got a stuffed toy for you!
Eventually you two had your last tokens and spent it on a shooting game.
"You're very noob at this." Nagi commented.
"I don't do stuff like this much!"
His hands went out of his pockets and got behind you and held the shooter as you held the shooter.
He was so close to you, you can even smell him not in a creepy way, you know. The next thing you know he finished the game for you and you both even got alot of tickets. You both decided to give the tickets to a kid instead. After all, Nagi already got you a stuffed toy.
You both decided to just eat on Mcdonalds for simpler vibes you know.
"Hey Nagi."
"What" he spoke while munching his food.
"Why did you take me out? Not to be a creep but i heard you and Reo's conversation about it."
He pauses for a moment to swallow his food and to think. "Cause you're pretty."
You didn't expect that answer. You heard that little compliment most of the time, but from him why does it feel like your stomach your stomach just did backflips thirty times at sonic speed?
"I see. I'm guessing by tomorrow he will give you back your nintendo?" You said.
"Probably."
After the two of you ate, he insisted on paying for the food and you left some tip. You both went outside and you excused yourself to go to the restroom so you can drink your meds.
Gladly you did bring your meds and you have a water bottle so you drank your meds. You went out of the restroom as you see Nagi waiting on a bench.
"Lets go." You said and he stood up.
While you two were walking, he stopped.
"Are you taking the bus?" He asked
"Oh yeah."
Do.. you have money?"
"Of course i do."
"Oh okay." You didnt notice the slight disappointment in his eyes as he scratches the back of his neck.
"By the way, can you take a picture of me?" You ask and he nodded, he brought out his phone and you held the stuffed toy he gave you in your hands.
Click!
"Send it to me, okay? Oh! Thats also for proof if Reo asks you for some." You said as you both look on to the picture.
"Well, I will leave now. I don't wanna miss the bus." You turned around and took your step before you felt a hand on your shoulder.
"Be safe. Chat me when you get gome, alright?" He said. Your eyes widen at his words before smiling at him.
"I will and you too." You said as you wave goodbye at him and so did he.
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28 DAYS
Its been about what? A month since your date? If it is then why do you still keep each other updated? Right, Nagi told you that Reo said you guys need to last longer to make it look real. But its not really.. I mean. It's fake, right? Right now you're chatting him all night. At rare times, you vc with him and play minecraft or roblox. Even Reo is believing this whole relationship. But hey! Today, spending time with Nagi is quite fun.
— "Hey N/N.. lets play roblox.. i don't have anyone to play a horror game with.." LIE. But for Nagi, you accept. "Sure! But you go first. I get scared easily." You took with a note. "Pshh, basic."
꒦・ ┈ • ┈₊˚⑅꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・ʚɞ ꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・꒦
56 DAYS
Time flies quite fast, its shocking really. Nagi has a soccer match tomorrow, he insisted you go. Who were you to decline? People will be shock if you, the Mr. Genius lover, to not go to his match? So you did. You cheered your heart out for him. He even kind of seem motivated, it scared Reo a bit. But hey, they won! Nagi was a bit more happy than he usually did. His best friend noticed it but he, himself, didn't.
— "Hey, N/n. Don't forget i have a match tomorrow, y' better wear my jersey, okay?" Nagi reminded to you while tying his shoes for practice. "Yea yea. i always do anyways. Stay safe when you go home, okay? I need to go home now." "Alright, Buh bye." He said and you kissed him on the cheek. + motivation for practice you know.
꒦・ ┈ • ┈₊˚⑅꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・ʚɞ ꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・꒦
84 DAYS
Out of curiosity Reo asked, Nagi seemed so out of character rather than he usually was. Why? Then it made Nagi think, now that he mentioned it, he seems like he is. He also dont know why. He didn't even know when it started. Reo said it started when he stopped playing games alone at night. Then it hit him. He stopped playing games alone when you came. When you came, he stopped playing alone and thats when he started being not like himself. He felt better than before. Not like what he was before was bad but this feeling was better. He wanted this feeling forever.
Reo asked what he saw in you. He saw everything. Everything he wished he'd seen sooner. Other than striving for seeinv people lose, he had only realize feeling this kind of comfort and joy is quite calming. Chill. He likes it
— "Why're you asking me this, Reo..?" Nagi look at Reo with a sigh as he leans more to the couch inside Reo's penthouse. "What? Can't his best friend find more about your relationship?" Reo asked as he played video games on the TV, Nagi paused. It came to realization to him again. What did he see in you? If it was your pretty face, it would be lust. Nagi Seishiro is not about lust. He eventually got more close to you.
"Maybe 's because shes really comforting." Reo also paused to look at Nagi. "Or maybe because her voice soothes my ears. Like shes singing a lullaby." Then Nagi looks down. "Or maybe i genuinely like her because her presence is very chill."
"Or maybe you can focus on the game now? You just killed us!" Reo answered.
꒦・ ┈ • ┈₊˚⑅꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・ʚɞ ꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・꒦
112 DAYS
It was raining at your school. How could it rain when its about to be summer? Gosh, you didn't even have an umbrella. You didnt have any options left honestly. It was like your unlucky day on this time. Woah will you look at that! Nagi's there! He took you home and let you sleep in his apartment. Today, you met his pet Choki. You were still abit taken aback of him having a pet cacti. Is he that unsociable? But hey, Nagi said his pet liked you, you we're happy about it. You two even watched Netflix and just chill for a while. And even ate ramen. You had to feed him because he was lazy.
Eventually the day after that, you two prepared for school together. You had cooked pancakes for the two of you while he showers. While he eats, you shower. He even helped you put on your shoes while you dry your damp hair. And then you two went to go to school together.
— Why did he even help you? You didn't ask for it anyways, he offered to help. You only accepted it because you do need it. And he wasn't particularly busy. And now he's beside you, walking you to school. You didn't even notice the your hand was brushing against his. Now he wants to hold yours. Your hands feels cold brushing against his warm hands. "Hey N/N?" "Hmm?" "Can i hold your hand?" He asks "My hands are cold though.." you answered. Gently he held your hand. "Then i will make them warm."
꒦・ ┈ • ┈₊˚⑅꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・ʚɞ ꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・꒦
140 DAYS.
What's wrong with you. You didn't go to school for at least three days. You weren't chatting him as well. Was he worried? Don't worry, you came to school tomorrow by that time anyways, he had ask you what happened, you said you just have been busy with stuff and needed alot of rest. He understood and said if you needed help, you can call him. You wish you can.. but theres no point in looking for help. No one can help. Nothing can help.
You hate it. You hate it so much how you just need to accept you only have one choice and it is to ACCEPT you don't have any choices. No one can help. Your sick. Life is this, life has 50/50 chances of ruining or fixing your life and how you much you hate it because it broke alot of your relationships and friendships.
— Nagi had been calling you. 17 calls at least in a day. 11 chats per hour. Within three days, you responded to his chats. "I'm completely fine, Sei :> no need to worry just got tired and stuff, will come back to school tom !" He already read it within 2 seconds and he sighed in relief. "Whats wrong?" Reo asked beside him. "N/n is safe." "Of course, you're worried about her." Reo said.
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168 DAYS.
"Hey. Y/N." He called. You turned your head to him as you both walked to class. "Wanna go to the night market later? There's some good food there." He said while scratching the back of his neck. "Oh yea sure!" You answer while smiling at him.
"Hey Shiro." You were resting your head on his shoulder as you watched him play his game and eat. "You haven't loved someone genuinely, right?" Nagi paused. He already did. You did that to him. He just nodded. "If you ever did, will you love them today of tomorrow or even forever? Even if they will leave you soon?" You ask. Silly, he would already do that for you. And you only. "Pretty sure i will." Oh, he will. And he would gladly do that for you. "Then the chosen person for you must be lucky." You are lucky.
Sometimes, you wonder why did fate brought you a Nagi Seishiro. What is he, your soulmate? You were just too late. You didn't have time. You came home with crying eyes, walking to your neighborhood. Why were you even crying? Because you feel guilt for Nagi? Or because your scared you don't wanna leave Nagi?
꒦・ ┈ • ┈₊˚⑅꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・ʚɞ ꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・꒦
196 DAYS
Later that day, you asked Nagi to talk with you, thinking to stop the relationship now. But is it really the right thing? Why bother even wondering? Its not like even if its the wrong thing, its better this way. Fate just needs it to be this way so you chat your 'lover'.
— Y/N: "Nagi? Are you still awake? Ik its 10 at night but can we meet up at the night market? Our usual spot there?🥹" Read.
Nagi Seishiro sent a 'thumbs up' emoji.
You were waiting for Nagi at the bench. The night seemed colder than you thought. Or are you cold? You were even shivering, you were holding yourself. Maybe you werent cold. Or was the night cold. You were nervous. Of what?
A jacket was wrapped around you from behind. You turned around and see Seishiro there, he went to you and was about to sit down but you stopped him. You'll make this quick. "Whats wrong?" Nagi asked. This is wrong.
"Look i can't keep up this time Nagi." Nagi tilted his head. Its not Sei? Nor Shiro? "I know this whole thing is fake but we need to stop this relationship." Nagi's eyes widened with fear. "What? Why?.."
"I-.. I just can't do it anymore. Okay? If you need a new fake girlfriend, feel free to do so. Thank you, Seishiro Nagi for an unforgetable experience, i won't forget you." You bow at him. Well neither will he! So don't go bowing at him, no ones leaving!
"N/n.." he called, making you look up at him.
"I am not leaving you." What? No, he can't. You will die soon! Its a pity, he doesn't even know your sickness..!
"Why? Its just fake anyways! Was everything not..?" You ask. It was a mistake and you knew it when he went silent and looked down. "Nagi. Answer my question."
"I love you, Y/N." Nagi finally looked up at you with those eyes. What eyes exactly? Maybe its eyes of adoring someone. Or eyes of searching for an answer. Or eyes of loving you. "I love you so much, Y/N. I don't like this feeling of letting go.. Letting you go."
But you can't deny it either, can you? You also love Nagi. But the only thing that's stopping you is that will he accept that your dying? When your parents heard that you were dying of a young age, they stopped caring for you. Instead, they focused on getting more money. They just kept you buying stuff. Exchanging for their presence.
You don't want that again. You don't want to feel that pain again.
You sigh, then sitting back down again, and pat the seat next you, signalling Nagi to sit down as well. "Can i tell you a secret, Nagi?" He only nodded.
"I'm breaking up with you because.. I'm gonna die soon."
Nagi's eyes widen.
You chuckle slightly "I know I'm sounding insane right now like i can read the future but the doctor said so. Saying i have some lung disease that doesn't even have a cure yet. Today is my 196th day, you met me when i had 224 days."
"Y'know, when i met you, i actually saw in the internet, 224 means Today, Tomorrow and Forever. Meaning, like, One will love you today, tomorrow and forever!.."
You look at Nagi, who was already looking at you the whole time, You slightly smiled. "Crazy right?.."
Please say something, please tell me fate really brought us together, please say that we're meant to love eachother forever.
"Crazy. Very crazy." Nagi answered.
"Y'know what's crazier?" You were surprised Nagi was able to answer you, keeping the conversation in flow. You slightly tilt your head in confusion.
He put his large hand on top of yours. "It's that I'm willing to actually love you today, tomorrow and forever." He smiled looking at your shocked expression. But, you're gonna die soon! Is he even sure of this?..
"I know you will die even if i love you right now but if you've notice.."
"I'm glad i'm mostly the last person your spending time with." You were also glad.
"You're not gonna leave me?" You ask without even thinking.
"I love you so much, Seishiro Nagi but I'm gonna die, and you! I should be nothing to you by now, I'm dying! Are you hearing yourself?" You stood up in shock.
"No, Are you hearing me?" That took you back.
"I'll say what i said better.. I said, I am more than willing to love you today, tomorrow and forever, even if you're gonna die and I'll have to experience it. How are you saying you should be nothing to me by now, when you were everything to me? Even now, I'll make sure you were everything to me, today, tomorrow and forever."
Nagi stood up to face you closer. "Y/N, I am so fuckin' glad that i met you when you still had 224 days. If you're asking me, fate brought this to us, brought us together as if we're soulmates. As if you and i we're meant to love eachother. If loving you means i will get to see you dying soon, then i will keep loving you and have you in a special place inside this heart of mine when you're up there."
"Accept my love for you already and i'll make your remaining days feel like it's special, today, tomorrow, and forever."
Dear, he did.
꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・ʚɞ ・ ┈ • ┈₊˚⑅꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・ʚɞ ꒷꒦
219 DAYS...
Recently, you just lived in with Nagi, as promised, you two spent everything together and did everything together. Even Nagi asked Reo for help which shocked him, and you even became friends with Reo. What a nice guy. Reo was the one setting you two up on dates and places where to go. Of course, Reo don't know that you will die soon. Its just a little secret between you and Nagi. Other than having dates, you guys also have private moments where you two just in his room, cuddling or kissing. Who knows? But you appreciated every moment you have done with him. Even if its just playing video games.
— "You're still aware that i love you, right?" Nagi asked out of the blue. "Forever. How bout you? You aware that i love you?" "Always." And you chuckle, putting a peck in Nagi's lips which he chases for when you let go. Continuing in a kissing session.
꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・ʚɞ ・ ┈ • ┈₊˚⑅꒷꒦⋆⑅˚₊┈ • ┈ ・ʚɞ ꒷꒦
223 DAYS
Tomorrow is your last day. By the time of 7 PM, you will surely die. Right now your in a hospital bed. Sitting up, and Nagi was laying his arms on your bed while resting his head in his arms. He seemed like he was waiting for you to wake up.
Gently, you pat his head making him awake and look up to you. "Thank god, your still awake.."
You giggled. "For now. Only have a few hours left till i go up."
"I love you, Y/N." you look at Nagi and he looks at you.
He hold your hand, and puts a ring in your hand.
"Just a ring. A promise ring." Nagi said.
"A promise ring?"
"A promise ring that i will love you today, tomorrow and forever."
Clearly, this is making you tear up. You didn't hesitate and let tears flood your eyes, pouring down your face like waterfalls. Nagi stood up and wiped the tears away your face. You were trying to say something and he just shushes you till you calm down, waiting for the opportunity to let you speak.
Soon, the tears stop falling from your face, you, having a red nose, reddish eyes and Nagi having his hands on your face as you hold one of his hands.
"I'm scared of leaving you.. I don't want to leave you just yet, Shiro.." tears were still slowly falling from your cheeks and Nagi kissed your forehead and the finger with his promise ring on it.
"Yours and my love will always be connected through this ring. So you better keep it in your hands till you go up there, okay?"
You nodded.
Silence was given to you two and you decided to break it.
"I'll always be watching your matches. Cheering for you, y'know."
"And i will know that you will through these rings. Our rings."
"Today, Tomorrow and Forever?" You ask.
"Today, Tomorrow and Forever." Nagi answers.
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Ya ill end it there.. I FINALLY FINISHED 224 DAYS W U aka love at first and last sight.. decided to change it a bit, same plot though BEEN MAKING THIS FOR WEEKS BRO IM FRL. Sorry for those who read the series and have been waiting for this.. its very long and i tried to make it not fast paced w/o so much words ok..
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doremimosasol · 10 months
Text
𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 - 𝐑𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐰!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ✧
Hufflepuff!reader here
Slytherin!reader here
Gryffindor!reader here
warnings: suggestive? idk
word count: 1,2 k
requested
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Mattheo definitely makes fun of Ravenclaws for burying their noses into books so much
because I believe he doesn’t need to study a lot at all to score high (Tom’s son after all)
though he’d secretly read a lot himself (no one knows this, not even his closest friends)
he reads lots of classics before he goes to bed to help him fall asleep
reading calms his mind and makes him forget about his worries and problems at home, it’s a form of escapism for him
he’d make fun of Ravenclaw, mock them, pull pranks… anything to annoy the house
he didn’t know why, he just loved the smart remarks he’d get in return
maybe he saw them as equally intelligent to argue with did he really?
his luck, of course, a Ravenclaw caught his eyes
he noticed you for the first time in 1st year on the Hogwarts Express and there was just something about you that made you stand out
the way you carried yourself was something that made you stay on his mind for weeks
your smile that came back into his mind, every time he closed his eyes
he didn’t want to come to terms with this little crush he developed the first few months so he’d ‘bully’ you a lot the first few years (playfully though, nothing too serious)
he would never hurt you and would never let anyone hurt you either
this man would NEVER leave you alone; everywhere you went, he went
he’d walk next to you in the hallways, annoying the shit out of you
he’d jumpscare you at any given time
he’d go to the library, specifically to interrupt your studying
as the years progressed, it turned into academic rivalry
it was something to keep himself entertained because let’s be honest he didn’t care about grades, he only cared about getting on your nerves by being better at something
because god forbid all that studying would give you good grades, right?
but he didn’t just study more, it’d go as far as sabotaging your tests
sneaking into the office of the professors who were dumb enough to keep their classrooms unlocked
he was that driven to get on your nerves, all that because the childish boy was too scared to give in to his feelings
he’d observe your manners and likes a lot over the years, following you every place you went (not creepy?)
in 6th year he’d finally gather the confidence to ask you out for the Yule Ball
in combination, he’d also gift you a stunning necklace to wear with your dress (something he’d wanted to give you for years now)
it matched with the tie he wore to the event, something to make it clear you were already his before you even knew it yourself
because he was the only one who could tease you and the only one that could have you in the end
you’d have an amazing night, dancing until your feet and legs hurt
it’d surprise you how sweet he could be after all these years of teasing (could it be you had grown to like this man?) he was just a little tipsy
after the ball, he’d take you to the astronomy tower to watch the stars
he’d give you his blazer so you wouldn’t get cold, he didn’t care if he would; the only important thing for him was for you to be warm enough and not catch a cold
he’d never admit he cared though
there, he would finally confess his feelings to you (shocker, honestly? not really)
of course, you said yes, how could you not?
even after all these years of teasing, pranks being pulled, and rivalry you had grown a liking for him
you started to like Mattheo fucking Riddle
the person who’d gotten on your nerves for the last years, now finally made his way into your heart
because deep down he was the softest person you’ve ever met, and that was proven after this magical night
he’d shown himself like he never showed himself in front of anyone else
you were the only person that made him act like that
and it’d drive him mad that anyone in this world had gotten him to go soft
gotten him to care
gotten him to open his heart
gotten him to fall in love
because deep down he knew he could trust you after all these years
that you would keep his heart save
something he had to protect so badly with frozen locks that you had seemed to melt
even though you were complete opposites, it felt like you two fit like puzzle pieces
those kind of puzzle pieces you couldn’t find until the end of the puzzle
you’d stare at the stars all night, you pointing out all constellations while he looked at you like you were his own personal star on earth
you knew he would kiss you if you even moved your head an inch to face him, so you tried to keep your eyes on the stars
this would drive him mad and eventually, he’d take your chin between his fingers to make you look at him
never could a first kiss have been better than this: one hand in your hair, the other on your neck
slowly moving his fingers over your scalp as he deepened the kiss
all the passion and pent-up frustration of keeping this crush hidden were shown by just the touch of his lips
after that night you started dating
he’d accompany you to the library, studying together…
‘studying’ together…
more like him whining about you not giving him enough attention
he’d put his hand on your thigh, slowly creeping it higher until he got the reaction out of you he wanted
and he always got it, that’s why he kept doing it
it wouldn’t be a lie to say he made your grades drop by some points (was this his whole plan?)
this would always result in you getting annoyed, rolling your eyes, and trying to make it obvious you wanted to study
“Come on y/n, studying can’t possibly be more important than me, right?” he’d whine continuously in your ear, playfully biting your neck in the process
he’d smirk against your neck “I know you like it when I touch you like this. Don’t lie to me, love.”
after that, you’d slam your books shut and pack your stuff before dragging him to your room, furious most of the time
he didn’t mind, because once again he got his way
during private study sessions, he’d sit you down on his lap, making you face him
he’d question your knowledge with the flashcards you made and every time you got something right he’d give you a quick kiss
though those study sessions would eventually turn into make-out sessions
make-out sessions would turn into you ending up late in class the next day
with the wrong tie
I mean, it’s Mattheo after all
I believe a relationship with Mattheo and a Ravenclaw would be really could when they got together but EXTREMELY slow burn
also academic rivalry duhhh
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solaarbeeam · 2 months
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electric touch - kaminari denki x black reader
warnings: none, reader is portrayed as darkskin, usage of Y/N
a/n: guys he’s my favorite (besides shoto) soo here’s a special fic in his honor <33, i lowkey don’t like this but im trying to discipline myself when it comes to writing.
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When Kaminari Denki made it to UA, he had a plan to become a heartthrob hero, not unlike Hawks.
His plan was completely thrown off the second he laid his eyes on you.
Rich and deep chocolate skin, brown eyes that nearly made it look black, and an all-white smile with the cutest tooth gems dotting your grin.
He was done for the second he walked in the room. He should’ve known then, but he didn’t.
He’d flirted with a lot of the girls in the class action once they had gotten to after the Sports Festival, but most just took it as jokes or rejected him, to which he calmly bowed out. No need to be an asshole about it, right?
As Jirou made fun of his quirk again, he laid his eyes on you once more. You were scribbling in your notebook, humming to the tune of what he assumed was a Bryson Tiller song, completely in your own little world.
He lost all sorts of common sense when it came to you. How couldn’t he, when you sat at your desk looking like you were the one that hung the moon in the sky?
“Hey, Y/N!”
Okay, he’d gotten your attention, what now? Oh lord, he’s an idiot. How is he supposed to do this? Your tooth gems catch the sunlight, making them gleam in the classroom, and he immediately hooks his eyes on them instead, so as to not come off as rude or creepy.
“Hey Kaminari, what’s up?” Oh my god he could stare at that smile for days. The coils of your hair makes him stare at them rather than look you in the eyes.
He holds his hand out. He mentally slaps himself stupid, because what was he thinking, just holding his hand out like that? Jirou could make fun of him for this all she wants and he wont even blame her, because what the hell?
He really loses all sense of self when he sees a pretty person, especially someone has gorgeous as you.
In response, you put your hand in his and marveled at how warm they were.
Three seconds pass by. Kaminari dies mentally.
He had just electrocuted Y/N L/N, the most beautiful person in existence, all because he can’t control himself or his quirk.
At lunch, he profusely apologizes to you, one because he knows your hair is important to you and if his quirk actually did anything bad to your hair, he’d put himself six feet under before you could.
“You’re honestly lucky my quirk prevents damage, but in all seriousness, it’s cool Kaminari. It was honestly kind of cute seeing you trip out like that.”
You have no idea what you’ve done, Cute? Cute?!?? You officially have Kaminari Denki wrapped around your finger.
They have the Training Camp. He’s stuck with Mr Aizawa for remedials, because he’s a dumbass and you can do no wrong. The villains attack, and you’re apart of the main fight. Your quirk, called Bounce Back, allows you to take damage, store the impact, and push it back out to deliver it back to the opponent. It was a perfect offensive quirk.
Until you, Bakugou, and Jirou get kidnapped by the league. You, because you were fighting Toga with Uraraka and Tsu, Bakugou for conversion reasons, and Jirou because of her scouting abilities and super hearing.
He goes with the team to get you back. He’d never forgive himself if he had the opportunity to do something and he didn’t.
Once they got the three of them out, he ran up to hug you, not caring who looked or who saw.
You hugged him back, just as eagerly and emotion full as he did. He felt whole, he felt complete again, and the feeling of you hugging him back with just as much warmth and intensity gives him hope.
They get dorms. It makes his crush a lot harder on him. For once, Jirou doesn’t laugh and actually helps him.
It was a regular night, a relatively warm one since summer had started. He knocked on your door, sparks literally flying from the tips of his fingers.
‘Do not electrocute them, this’ll be all for nothing if you can’t get it together.’
You open the door, and once he steps in, he’s hit by the smell of cocoa butter and hair products that smell distinctly like you.
“Okay so, Kami, what can I do for you?” You’re taking your hair out, as he can see, with half of your head still in mini-twists.
“Call me Denki?”
“Pffft-“ He feels blood rush to the tips of his ears. He’s already fucked up and he hasn’t even started the segway.
“‘Kay then, Denki, whatcha need?” He’s going to die. He will die here happily here.
You notice his hands are sparking. You coat your hands in a pastel yellow, a tell tale sign of your quirk, and you take the risky move of grabbing his hands.
He practically dies right then and there. You laugh out loud, pressing a kiss to his nose.
“You’re cute, yknow that Denki?”
The mention of his name brings him back to the present. He decides to just go for it instead of doing the whole plan he made with Jirou.
“Y/N, will you be my partner?”
“‘Course I will, I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
It seems that at the end of the day, when it’s all said and done, you’re the one with the electric touch, and not him.
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© solaarbeeam 2024. reposts and translations are not permitted.
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nahoyasboyfriend · 4 months
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Burning desire
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warnings: professor and student, fem!reader, shameless smut, creampie bc why not, choking (it's James what did you expect), readers a love(lust)struck loser who likes her teacher.
Word count: 4.8k
A/N: first time writing something on that more the 2k. This isn't proofread, but I hope it's to your liking. This is kinda old so it might be bad. Hope you enjoy!
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You arrived fairly early on the first day. It wasn't really intentional—you live only a few blocks away and paranoid that you have somehow overslept, rushed to get ready. Thankfully you aren't too early for the door to be locked, just enough for the classroom to be mostly empty of students. There were two other people in the room, pulling paper and pencils out their bags and not paying you any mind. You make yourself comfortable in your seat—not too close but not painfully far from where the instructor will be—and follow in their example.
With nothing left to do, you pull out your phone to mindlessly scroll until class starts. In the midst of liking some random post, your phone buzzes—the low battery notification pops on the screen. You would forget to charge your phone last night. Sighing, you reach into your bag to grab your charger, sifting through the content of your bag only to find it not in there; you must've left it at home. Just great. After your phone dies, you have no other choice but to either look blankly at your desk or watch the few people here.
You find your eyes flitting across the room to them; it's not like you don't watch people when you're bored anyway.
When you've had your fill of observing, the door opens—it looks like your teacher has finally arrived. You watch the man get himself ready for the upcoming lecture; he’s busy arranging some paperwork so you take the time to ogle him shamelessly. He looks young, maybe around his early thirties. His hair is slicked down to perfection and he has a little pencil mustache—He is, admittedly, rather handsome.
You hadn't expected that. You weren't quite sure what your expectation was—probably thought he'd be some fourty-year old depressed asshole whose wife doesn’t love him. Yeah…that'd be the type of person who looks like they’d teach a course like this one.
Suddenly, he glances up, probably to check how many people had come in. Still, it scares the living daylights out of you—you rip your gaze away from him. Opting to snatch up your phone and pretend you have more interesting things to look at besides your teacher, you feel your face warm up when you still feel his eyes on you. The sound of his chair scraping the floor pulls everyone's attention to the front; he saunters over to the board and jots down his name with Expo marker.
“My name is Mr. March,” he declares with a smile. Oh fuck, he has a nice voice.
You don't pay much attention to the rest of his introduction, but you still enjoy the timbre of his voice. Instead, you go back to admiring his looks in a totally-not-creepy way. He looks like money-personified; the black vest, the white button-up underneath, and the pair of black pants are all crisp and obviously made with premium material. He even walks with a grace that most lack,talking in a manner like he is more of a socialite than a mere college professor.
More students start to flow in and by the time Mr. March is through with going over his expectations for the semester, everyone is seated and ready for class to start.
In the row ahead of you, a group of girls were quietly debating amongst themselves if he was single or not. You would've laughed if you weren't curious yourself. You spent the remainder of class staring at him without listening to a word that left his pretty mouth (later on you beat yourself up for not taking notes). His voice was hypnotic, each word sinking you deeper into whatever trance you were in. He was refined… elegant. Every movement looked calculated.
Honestly, he could be one of those old Hollywood stars. Face perfectly sculpted to be plastered on billboards; a smile born for posters. Briefly, you wondered if you were to go searching that you'd find him in a classical film.
Then, he's looking at you and the world stops—it shouldn't be anything mind-blowing because there's really nothing special about it, but still, you find yourself immobilized. His voice is syrupy, smooth, and mind-numbing. He clears his throat and your cheeks burn. He looks expectant, like he's waiting for something. He definitely asked you a question. Scrambling through your racing thoughts, you just stare dumbly at him, waiting for him to repeat whatever he had asked. He doesn't.
“I, er, don't know,” you mumble sheepishly. He quirks an eyebrow at that, painfully unimpressed. He doesn't say anything for what feels like an eternity and his silence suffocates you. The only sounds in the class were a few chuckles from other students. You shift in your seat.
“You would've known if you had listened to me,” he lightly scolds. You nod, hoping that'll be enough to show that you get his point. He furrows his brows, and he looks like he's about to push it further. Luckily, he takes mercy on you and simply repeats the initial question.
A few more giggles, and the class is back to normal. You'd think being publicly berated would be enough for you to learn your lesson, but it isn't. Because soon enough, his words are going in one ear and out the other—the words meld together into a pleasant hum in the background.
Before you know it, class is over. You bite your lip as you hurry to pack your bags, the shame from earlier returning like a punch to the gut. You don't dare look in his direction, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You scurry out the door, and thank the lord he's your only class of the day.
You let out a long-awaited sigh as you burst through your front door, haphazardly throwing your bag in the corner—you can finally decompress. You study until you feel like your head is about to burst to keep your thoughts off of him and the rather embarrassing way your first day ended.
It's been a few weeks since you got chastised for being an absent-minded idiot, and despite the embarrassment you can't bring yourself to be mad at him. Instead of anger, or even mild annoyance, all you feel is attraction. You try to deny it, bottle it up and push it to the back of your mind. Innocent fascination is what you label it. His passè charm and unconventional way of speaking is why you can't get him out of your head. That's the real reason all your thoughts lead back to him. Why at night you get struck with downright obscene visuals of him. You don't touch yourself— At least not in reality.
The you— you’ve conjured up in your head does, she touches him too. She fondles him in places you'll never see—let alone touch in real life. He says things to her that you'll never hear. He gradually seeps into your dreams, when that happens you wake up with damp underwear, and humiliation that settles deep in the crevices of your gut. It makes seeing him so much worse, but something about him captivates you.
You find yourself sneaking glances when you're convinced he isn't looking– It's the only thing you can't seem to stop– so you indulge. The only rule: don't get caught. And that sounds pretty easy to adhere to. Just don't look too long.
Simple, right?
Naively, you were confident you could do it. It worked for a little while. But at some point, you got complacent. Assured yourself you wouldn't get caught because you were doing so well. Your eyes meet in slow motion, or that's how it felt to you. In the middle of personal study time, so you had no real excuse. Neither of you break eye contact for a few more seconds, and he has a plain, almost bored expression on his face.
Ducking your head down, you stare at your blank paper. You don't pretend to write anything. It's pointless now. You’d been caught red-handed. You simply sit there, wallowing in your shame. That's become your favorite pastime lately. Deciding enough time has passed, you peek up. He's gone back to whatever he was writing and you decide that now is the time to actually write on your paper.
Class ends and you're packing up. You don't rush today, taking your time collecting your things.
“a word, please.”
You swallow dryly, cemented in place. Hesitantly, you peer up at him. His eyes bore deep into your soul like two black voids sucking you in. Growing impatient, he adds: “Yes, you. I'd like to speak to you.”
You dwandle your way to him. He doesn't rush you, at least not verbally, but by the look on his face your torpor was getting under his skin. You pick up the pace. Finally, you reach his desk. “You, um, wanted to speak to me?”
“Mm,” He clasps his hands, sitting them on his desk. “I called you here to discuss your grades,” he says, “you're a clever girl, we're both aware of that. You could be doing so much better, but there's something distracting you, correct?”
For a brief moment thick, uncomfortable silence falls over the two of you. You rummage through your brain for explanations. How could you tell him that he's the distraction? That all your troubles were somehow connected to him.
“I, uh, haven't been keeping up with my studies lately,” you stammer, “My sleep schedule has been kinda messed up,” Because of you. “So, when I get that in order I should be good.”
He frowns, narrowing his eyes slightly; he doesn't look convinced. Standing up, he makes his way to you. He stops in front of you, looming over you like a shadow. He's of average height, but you still have to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. You’re struck by the fragrance of his cologne— god, he smells amazing. He places a hand on your shoulder, you tense up almost immediately. His hand is so big. Shaking those thoughts away, you nervously await his next word.
“If you don't compose yourself, I fear I may have to take on a more… hands-on approach.” he tuts, giving your shoulder a nearly painful squeeze. You blink, dazed. You swallow once more, desperately trying to wet your throat. “I understand,” you utter, voice airy like you'd been running a marathon. You feel dizzy. His words buzzing in your head like tv static.
You honestly just want to get out of here, and wait out the heat that’s building between your thighs. Pleased with your response, he smiles at you. A lazy, feline grin, and you can see the slight indents of his dimples.
“Wonderful!” He replies, gleefully. His hand lets go of your shoulder. Your skin is still throbbing from the contact. “Well, then, you're dismissed.”
When you make it inside, you're panting, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat from speed walking all the way home. You let your bag drop onto the floor, unconcerned with where it lands. You sigh, exasperated. There's a pressure in your chest, or it could be described as a warmth. Or an ache. Or all those things at once. You weren't sure— nor do you really care. All you know is his words keep replaying in your head, muddling all your thoughts.
You practically run to your bed, exhausted from your own thoughts. Before you can attempt to stop it, he's invading your head for the umpteenth time. You groan. That warmth in your chest begins trickling down, pooling in the space between your legs. You can still feel his hand on your shoulder, the dull ache of the squeeze. Flipping onto your back, you stare vacantly at the ceiling. You could only deny yourself for so long. Placing your feet flat on the mattress, your hand slips past the band of your panties. A little relaxation couldn't hurt. Especially with how pent up you've been, It was well deserved.
You let out a breathless little whine when your fingers brush your swollen clit. God, you needed this. You run a finger through your folds, the slick sticks your skin. Using your wetness to ease the friction, you rub slow circles on your clit, and your eyes flutter shut. You could see him on the back of your eyelids. Your hips buck up pathetically into your own hand. You're leaking, cunt quivering around nothing.
You could still smell him. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, even now it lingered in your nose. Rich and velvety. Something that wealthy decadents would wear just to let you know you'd never be able to afford it. You push a finger in, various curses fall from your lips. His hands– my god, his hands. They're so big. So strong. You slip another finger in. The heel of your hand grinds against your clit, and the feeling sends chills down your spine.
You're a writhing, squirming mess on your bed. The squelching from your fingers thrusting into your dripping cunt has the tips of your ears burning, but you don't stop. You picture him, his fingers knuckle deep in your cunt, methodically fucking them in and out of you. You imagine him curling them inside of you, and you mimic the motion in real life, sending another rush of slick gushing out. You think about the sweet purr of his voice, urging you on— instructing you to cum, so you do. You come hard, mumbling his name like he's your new god.
The shower after is long and quiet, you spend a good portion letting the water run down your body to soothe your tense muscles. You don't play any music or hum anything. You’re barely thinking. Your only goal is to get in bed and pass out. And when you finish, that's exactly what you do. You snuggle into your covers and as soon as your head hits the pillow you're out.
Your eyelids slowly peel apart; heavy. Your entire body feels like a bag of rocks. You lie there, taking long, drawn-out blinks. There's a strange peacefulness in the air. None of the usual worry that fills your head, no noise besides your soft breaths, and the sweet song of the birds outside. You prop yourself up, reaching out to your bedside table to grab your phone. With a click your phone turns on, the sudden light blinds you. Blinking away the blurriness, your eyes begin to focus on the big white numbers: 11:25
You stumble out of the comfort of your bed. You have five minutes to get ready and head out the door. Running to your dresser, you pull out some clothes to wear. How you manage the sleep through your numerous alarms was beyond you, but nevertheless that didn't turn back time. You shuffle into your bra, throw the shirt over your head, and jump into a pair of pants. You're able to get the important parts of your morning routine done. Besides a few things like washing your face and properly brushing your hair. Giving yourself a once-over, you decide you don't look too bad. Just a little lazier than normal but casual enough. Sighing, you depart to class.
Standing in front of the door, you take a deep breath, straighten your back. You can already see his face, his mouth pressed into a hard line. A flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You knock on the door, and wait for it to open. When you hear a soft click, you push the door open, hurrying to your seat. When you sit down, you glance at him and he's already looking at you. Face devoid of any signs of what he's feeling. You pluck the needed supplies out of your bag, and he continues the lesson.
The class goes excruciatingly slow. Focusing seems near impossible, so you resort to scribbling down anything you deem important without actually listening to what he's saying. Which you can only hope doesn't bite you in the ass too much in the future. The class comes to a close, and before you can even think about leaving he's calling your name. You wince, forcing yourself to walk to his desk. He's definitely gonna tear a chunk out of you.
“Sir?” You mutter, ashamed.
“You were late,” he states, plain and simple. His words linger heavily in the air.
“I, um, slept in. I apologize, it was a mistake on my part.” You sputter, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. He lifted his head, eyes piercing into you. Your mouth squeezes shut.
“you slept in,” he echoes, empty. With a stern tone, he adds, “Excuses will not be tolerated, especially after I gave an explicit warning to get yourself together.”
You feel queasy, like your stomach rolling in on itself. You don't know what to say. Your heartbeat pounds in your head, rattles your ribcage, reverberating through your entire body. You don't know what to do that doesn't make you seem more of a fool than you already are. So you say the only thing that's worked for you so far.
“I know, sir. I am truly sorry.”
“Indeed you are,” he purrs as inches closer to you, fingertips dragging against his desk. His intense eye contact frightens you, makes you feel like he'd put a giant red target on you: open prey. A strange, uncomfortable heat flushing your body, feels akin to little fires starting from the tips of your fingers. He stops in front of you, closer than you would deem comfortable, but you couldn't move— something willing you to stay right where you are. A need.
You feel trapped, or rather, you're paralyzed. Even though there's nothing constraining you, and all you have to do is walk out the room. You can't move; his eyes immobilize you, demanding that you stay. Reluctantly, you obey. He settles a hand on your shoulder, “yet, you're not sorry enough to listen.” Before you can defend yourself, his hand slowly starts traveling up, gently wrapping around your neck. You notice, but oddly enough, you choose not to question it. “So, I must ask, what's distracting you? And there's no need for any falsities, my dear.”
You freeze, eyes wide. Dumb and glassy, fawn-like. “it’s- it's really not important, and I promise that I'll straighten out my behavior. It's been a rough week.” you murmur, the tips of your ears burning.
He frowns, hand flexing around your neck. You don't know if it was intentional, but it gets his point across all the same. “Like I said, there's no reason for further deception.”
Sucking in a deep breath and closing your eyes, you mentally agree he's right and getting it off your chest could probably do you some good. “It's you. You're my problem– or my distraction, in your words.”
He doesn't look fazed. In fact, he looks like he knew before you even opened your mouth. He looked like he could tell you every thought you had verbatim. After a moment of silence, he inquires, “how long?”
Innocuous, but still you shy away from him. Your mouth squeezes shut, and your head is about to turn to the side, but he's capturing your face in his hand— forcing you to look at him. His grip is firm, nails lightly digging into the fat of your cheeks.
“since the, um, first day” you murmur, skittish.
He gives a slight nod. He knew you were attracted to him, but he had ignored it. Flicking off your open desire as a fleeting crush. That, like the other girls, you'd move on. Unfortunately for the two of you, you never did. But day after day of seeing the desperation mixed with adoration swirling around in your big, bright doe eyes, even though he would never speak it aloud, stirred something in him. And now, you’re in front of him with your heart in your hands. that pathetic, helpless look on your pretty face. it set something off within him, a spark of heat he couldn't ignore.
“Is that so…” he responds, casually. Offhandedly, even. He’s pensive, looking at you with a blank face. He’s always withdrawn, always hard to read. You never can guess what's going on in that head of his, and that was something you admired. But right now, you wished you could crack open his skull and hear his thoughts for yourself.
The tension is tangible, turning the air thick. You wish he would do anything to rid you of this horrible ache in your chest. Shoo away the sinking pit in your stomach that grows the more his silence drags on.
“Do something,” you whisper. You don't know what to expect. You can't begin to predict what he'll do with your confession, but you figure he'll send you off with a broken heart and your tail tucked between your legs.
His face scrunched up, and then it straightened out. turning eerily calm with a strange sense of resolve. unceremoniously, his mouth crashes into yours. hungry and ravenous. For a second, you didn't reciprocate. you were stupefied by his forwardness. you had expected many things but not a kiss. After gaining your bearings, you carefully carefully began to kiss back, following the pace he had set. His teeth sink into your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood. you whimper, and he lets out a low groan, lapping away the metallic liquid.
your heart hammered in the confines of your chest. you were high off the taste of him. a mixture of mint and nicotine. you wanted more, you wanted everything he was willing to dish out. your hands gripped at the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer. it was so surreal— his warmth, his scent, his lips on yours. it was something you couldn't let fall through your fingers. Then without pulling away, he’s spinning you around, backing you up until you're perched on the edge of his desk.
Your mind is misty. your vision blurs at the edges like a gossamer film is covering it. If it's from the lack of oxygen, or how incredibly unreal the situation is still impossible to ascertain. He pulls away to attach himself to your neck, leaving feverish open mouth kisses on your neck. You can feel him inhaling against your skin, breathing you in. Without warning, he digs his teeth into the thin skin between the junction of your neck and shoulder.
He laves his tongue over the indents left behind, and you take it as a silent apology. James squeezes your thigh, massaging it. You’re soft to the touch, pliant. Almost pillowy. His hand snakes down, down, down. Slipping into your pants, past the band of your panties. His fingers brush against your sensitive clit, and you spread your legs further to give him more room. You're leaking over the pads of his fingers, and he dips lower, collecting it. He smears your wetness on your aching bud in tight, deliberate circles. You let out soft pants, rolling your hips against him, desperate for more contact.
“More,” you whine. A small pout tugging at your plump lips.
“you want more, hm? Such a greedy little thing you are,” he croons, giving your clit a mean pinch. It yanks a squeal out of you. The melange of pain and pleasure confuses you, entices you. You give him a meek nod tugging your bottom lip between your teeth. He plunges two fingers in your needy cunt, and your back curves. He hums, pumping his fingers into you with a steady pace. He rolls your aching nub beneath his thumb. It's methodical, automatic. Downright robotic the way he splits you apart on his nimble fingers. He touches you like he's known you for an entire lifetime, strumming your chords like he knows exactly what to do to make you cry out.
His fingers are long, slender, and so, so pretty. And god does he know how to use them. With pinpoint precision, he's curling his fingers inside of you, pressing that spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into your skull. You're gushing around him, and the squelch of it is obscene. It's embarrassing how you fall apart merely from his deft fingers. Nonsensical babbles fall from your mouth, too high off pleasure to make sense, but he doesn't seem to mind. Soon, a coil begins to tighten in your groin. A buzzing heat in your lower region. It's undeniable, inescapable.
“M gonna cum, don't stop– please, please, please.” You babble, your fingers gripping for purchase on his desk.
Frissions of pleasure shoot through your body like lightning. Your mouth falls agape, and you tilt your head back. The coil snaps, and you quickly begin to unravel around his fingers. He eases you through it, doesn't stop until you've stopped trembling, and then he's sliding you off the desk. He turns you around, and places a sizable hand on your back, bending you over the table. He hastily tugs your pants down, leaving them bunched up at your mid-thigh.
You feel the tip of his cock probe your entrance. Nervous, you press your warm face against the varnished wood, letting a wave of relief wash over you from its coldness. He doesn't give you time to prepare before he's bottoming out. The stretch burns, a dull incessant ache. You don't realize you're gritting your teeth until the feeling ebbs and shifts into velvety pleasure. To your surprise, his thrusts are a measured pace, rhythmic. Maybe he was taking mercy on you, but he quickly loses the pace for something rougher. Fast and hard, thrusts that jolt you forward, edge of the desk biting into your hips.
“is this what you wanted? to be bent over my desk like the needy little harlot you are.” you let out a high pitched whine at that, cunt fluttering around his cock. he was so crude, so incredibly mean, but he was right. he's so right that it's embarrassing.
you feel a vascular hand wrap around your neck, tugging you into an arch. “say it, tell me this is what you wanted,” he grunts, hips snapping hard against yours, it was downright painful.
“this is what I wanted,” you cry out, nodding your head. “good girl,” he utters, his tone ominously dark. it sent chills racing down your spine. his other hand wraps around your neck, and he begins to squeeze. at first, it's harmless, it's not tight enough to do damage, just applying pressure. it wasn't until he didn't stop squeezing that you started to panic. eyes going wide and glassy, your hands tried to peel his hands away to no avail. so you tried to scratch at them, in hopes that he'd finally pull away. but he didn't budge. your lungs were starting to burn, your thoughts getting increasingly fuzzy.
despite all of this, he didn't stop his ruthless thrusting. your cunt clamped down on his cock, squeezing him for all that he's worth. your vision starts to blur, everything begins melting together. your hands drop back down to the desk, and you can feel yourself going limp in his hold. you couldn't tell if you were simply going to pass out, or if you close your eyes you're going to die, but you didn't want to find out.
a dribble of drool slinks down your chin. your head is throbbing. there's a dull ringing in your ears, and it's becoming harder to keep yourself awake or alive. feeling your eyes closing on their own, you felt stinging tears rushing down your cheeks. then, you felt it, a sudden warmth in your lower region. that familiar ache in your womb. a few more harsh thrusts, and you were leaking all over his cock. he followed suit, thick ropes of cum fill you up soon after. thankfully, he let go. you thought he was going to kill you for a second.
gasping, you lurched forward, letting yourself rest on the desk. your head was spinning and your legs felt like jello. you didn't speak, just laid there. It takes you a minute to collect yourself. Especially after fearing for your life. You were pretty sure he was going to kill you. He pulls out of your wordlessly, slipping his cock back in his pants. Once you convince yourself that you're okay, you pull up your pants. The feeling of his cum gushing out of you is kinda gross but you can deal. You're going straight home anyway so you can wash it off when you get there.
He doesn't say anything until you're walking away, "I hope to see you again tomorrow. We still have much to improve after class."
The implications are enough to have you red-faced and very excited for the day to come. You don't know why you're still fooling around with him. Despite the fact that he may be dangerous. It entices you further like the dumb little girl you are. So, like an idiot, you give a coy smile over your shoulder, "yes, Mr. March. I'll be there."
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