#I can't even remember enough about these two to use her last name | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shatcey · 3 days ago

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Dark IF (Harrison)

William Harrison

@.archiveikemen made a wonderful translation of the prologue to this event. I recommend reading it in advance so that there are no questions about how we got into this story.

@.kurishiri has compiled an amazing masterlist on this event. I'm doing summaries, so I'm not there. If you prefer to read the full translation, you have that option as well. Not necessarily for this story… This is the main reason why I'm making a summary to fill in the missing parts.

Before I start, I wanna say that for some magical reason (I believe it's fate) I read two stories in which Victor and Harrison are present. And it feels like I'm reading a continuation of the same story. To some extent, this is true. Ally, it's not what you think. I mean, I was destined to read those two stories, not that Vivi or Harry… I don't even wanna finish this sentence…

(clears throat)

This time… there is no feeling that we should read bitter ending first. This is a completely different ending, and it seems final, nothing will remain after it. It's very sad, and if you don't wanna cry, I recommend scroll to the premium one.

Warning(!!!): blood and mention of death.

Kate is running after someone. The glass slipper slipped off her foot, as expected, and the magic changed her dress, but it's not that important. She's running after someone… She follows him into the woods and looks around. There's no one there, and she can't see the castle lights anymore.

Suddenly, a voice asks her why she is here. She looks in that direction and meets the gaze of bright green eyes. Kate honestly replies that she followed him. He looks stunned. Then she asks what his name is. He replies that it is the lying Fox Harrison. Kate thought he looked gloomy when he said that. When he asked her why she followed him…

Here we go… our continuation of William's bitter ending…

Harrison looked surprised for a moment. Kate tried to remember where she might have met him, but she couldn't remember anything. He replied that yes, it is (a liar). But Kate couldn't stop wondering why she was feeling so nostalgic…

He offered her to walk her home, and on the way she talked about herself non-stop. How she appeared here, what she has to looking for, he listened to her very carefully, but he didn't seem to want to talk about himself.

When Kate saw her house in the distance, she suddenly felt lonely and upset. When he said goodbye and turned to leave, Kate grabbed his sleeve. It seemed to her that if she let him go now, she would never see him again.

He asked her if she hadn't talked enough. No, that's not the case, she wanted to thank him for listening to her so attentively. She asked him if she could see him again.

No, no, no, mister! It won't work with us. She remembers you, sort of, and we all know there's nothing to hate you for.

Kate agrees with me and tells him the same thing (the last part). And she added that, of course, she continues to look for what is missing, but she would like to see him every day and talk about casual things so that she can forget about her problems. She thinks that only in such moments she can become herself again. The silence drags on, and she sadly asks if that means "no". But he patted her on the head and add...

You're not stalking her, are you? It's not that creepy if it's you, but still… It's very suspicious that you'll show up as soon as she calls you.

Finally, he released his sleeve from her grasp and left, saying "good night, Kate."

Kate returned to her room. In my opinion, it's too decent one for the Cinderella. She writes in her diary about what happened to her. She has been keeping a diary since she came to this world. By the time she finished writing about the ball, the pages had run out. And she started a new diary with a description of the meeting with Harrison.

And suddenly Kate realized that she didn't remember telling him her name… How does he know that?

A week later

Kate calls his name in the woods. Harrison said irritably: "Again?". Kate remembers that since the day they met, she has been calling him every time something happens to her. He pointed out that she shouldn't spend so much time with him. She still hadn't found what was missing. She feels pang of guilt, but assures him that she is doing her best.

He took the basket she was carrying and asked if she was going on a picnic today. He led her to a beautiful field of flowers.

He mentioned that the prince had been looking for someone recently. The woman who wore the glass slippers. No way! We're in Cinderella, and the prince was looking for someone? Who could it be?

Kate thinks he was looking for her. And in a happy ending, she should marry a prince. And maybe if she gets a happy ending, she'll find what was missing. She noticed how concerned Harry looked and changed the topic.

She can't remember the lying Fox in the Cinderella. No one remembers because… he doesn't have a role. The lying fox has always been hated. He can travel between fairy tales, but he cannot be a character in any of them. There is no fairy tale with a lying fox. Kate was terribly angry. Why didn't such a kind and wonderful person have a fairy tale? She took her diary and started writing something in it.

She tells him that people just don't know how wonderful he is, and she really doesn't understand how anyone can hate him.

The prince appears. Of course, he needed to spoil this wonderful moment.

The prince looked at her and immediately recognized her as the person he was looking for. Kate looked at Harry and noticed how dark his eyes were. She reflexively grabbed his sleeve. I like that part of hers. Don't let him slip away, girl!

The prince noticed Harry and told her that she shouldn't spend time with this "filthy creature". Another person who asks to be punched. This is a rather disturbing tendency.

Kate thinks that despite the fact that she is Cinderella now and should marry the prince, as soon as she noticed that Harry bit his lip, she hugged him. She thinks it's not her happy ending. So she tells the prince that she cannot respond to his feelings.

I rephrased it a bit, originally it was "my happy ending is not about being with you" but I think it's more appropriate to talk about the happy ending she was thinking about. Despite the ending of the fairy tale imposed on her, she doesn't consider it happy. Maybe I'm wrong.

She gets up, grabs Harry's hand and runs away. Good girl! if you can't solve the problem, run away from it. Good advice from Ally.

They're running towards the cliff. I don't like this place… this is already a bad sign. Harry tells her to go back to the prince. He told her that if she chose him, she would not find what was missing. But if she chooses a prince, she might find it. She said she knew that. But she's only happy when she's with him.

The prince appears. A persistent bastard.

She wants to retreat, but there's only a cliff behind her. Prince felt sorry for her that the fox had deceived her. And he said he had to kill him, or her, or both. This guy is really crazy. He took a sword and stabbed someone through. Kate and Harry fell off a cliff.

Bitter ending

Harry hugged Kate so that nothing would happen to her as they rolled down the hill. They fell into a shallow river. Kate thought that the water in this river was the same color as Harry's eyes. She looked around and found that he was lying a little away. She gasped and ran up to him. He clutched his stomach, trying to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.

No, she's not, but he is… She remembered that the prince's sword was definitely pointed at her, but Harry protected her. And even after that… He protected her the whole time they were falling off the cliff.

He told her that she had been here thousands of times. She was in Cinderella, Alice, Snow White and Sleeping Beauty. And every time she had to find what was missing. She did it over and over again, and he could only watch her.

He explained that in this world, if she had a bad ending, she would return to her original world. And at that moment, her memories are erased.

So he lied… they had met many times before.

He asks her to return to her world, forget everything and be happy. She doesn't want that… He wipes her tears, says he loves her, and… dies.

She begs him to open his eyes, after all, he's lying, it must be a lie. But… he's already gone. She had been crying on his chest for who knows how long. Suddenly she heard footsteps.

Victor, do something!

No, not that!

He told her that this was what Harry had asked him to do. Bring her back to her world and never return her here again. But if she comes back, she'll forget Harry, and she doesn't want that. She said she loves Harrison and that's probably why she's coming back to this world… she wanted to see him again.

Despite the fact that everyone hated him, despite the fact that he had no place in any fairy tale, Harrison was the main character in her fairy tale.

Victor took the small key that hung on Harrison's chest and handed it to Kate.

This is also not what I asked for. I should have been more precise from the very beginning.

She doesn't remember how much time has passed since then. She continues to wander through this distorted fairy-tale world in the form of a lying fox, who cannot be a character in any fairy tale. Unable to change story, she just wishes of a happy ending and is overwhelmed by her helplessness.

After another bad ending, she returns to the river and lies down in shallow waters. In her slumber, she continues to dream of a happy ending that will never come true. "I love you, Harrison".

Premium ending

The prince's sword pierced through her… She was lying on the bank of a shallow river, and Harrison next to her looked like he was about to cry. She looked down and saw that there was a lot of blood flowing down the river.

Harry asked why she was protecting him. This time, the prince pointed the sword at Harry, and the moment she realized it, she stepped between them. No, really, girl, dodge! Fall to the ground, throw the sword aside… Do something so you DON'T die. Why do you always act like you have 9 lives?

Kate answered Harry's question that you don't need a reason to protect the person you love. Harry desperately push the wound on her stomach. The moment he thought that if he died, she would just return to her world world and forget about him. He explained to her that this was not the first time she had come to this world in search of something was missing.

She's been through a lot of bad things, and he's watched her die many times… She finally understood why she was feeling so nostalgic. She thinks that if she dies, she will forget about him.

Harry says that as long as she's happy, it doesn't matter how he feels. But he doesn't want to be forgotten anymore. Oh, no, it's a painful topic.

Oh, no, that's a painful topic as well…

She took out her diary. The lying fox is hated, and cannot be a character in any fairy tale. But in this diary she writes only about him, as if he were the main character. And so, with trembling fingers, she writes "the tale of the lying fox" on the cover. She started to lose her conscientiousness, but she heard Harry's words.

That's cute and all… but… the plot is missing.

And suddenly she's not dying anymore. Her eyesight has returned to normal, and there are no more wounds on her.

Victor! Why didn't you do it last time?

Harry asks Victor why he is here (and not at the theater, as I believe he lives) but Victor explains that a new fairy tale has been born in a destorted fairy-tale world, and it will exist as long as Kate is here. He congratulated Harry on his own story. Kate hugged Harry, feeling incredibly happy, and Harry hugged her back even tighter.

Victor clapped his hands, and the scenery completely changed.

Victor disappears, leaving them alone, and Harry asks her if she will continue to write his story. She's the only one who can do it. She happily answers "yes" and hugs him. They laugh and touch each other, as if they can't believe their happiness.

She tells Harry that she finally understood why she never managed to reach a happy ending. That's because the only happy ending for her is with him.

This is a fairy tale that never existed. Until now. And she found it in a slumber. Their own warm happy ending.

It's going to be a very long… I have a lot to add from myself.

I really love this story. It has several levels of meaning, a concept that is very close to real life. It caused a lot of strong emotions. I thought that Will's bitter ending was good. It's good, but compared to this one… It's too primitive. New clues and discoveries about the characters that were side ones in the previous part of the event. And… how poetically it is written… I have indeed given you a complete translation of one part, but I will not tell you which one, so as not to embarrass myself if it's not quite accurate.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Story is often associated with the life of the person. And we have Kate who writes a story (in the diary). So the meaning is very simple… She's writing her own story, her own life. And her story affects other people's lives so much that it creates a new one. I don't know about you, guys, but the thought gives me goosebumps. We never know how our words or actions will affect others, we never know what people will remember about us over time. So the fact that it can be so grandiose is overwhelming. I have a college whose words I remember for many years, and they became a good motivation for me. I'm sure he doesn't even remember saying them.

There was a part in the premium ending where Harry adds an ending to the story… If you look at it from a relationship perspective… A relationship (from my point of view, absolutely silly and unrealistic) is the work of two people. They both add something to their story that changes both of them and the direction they are moving. And Harry adds something from himself to this story, and only after that a fairy tale is born. Kate kept a diary all this time, but in the bitter ending Victor didn't create a fairy tale for them. If it was him… It only happened when Harry added something. He may have added an ending that's important to any story, but I like to think that's not the case. I like this concept way too much to give it up so easily.

The part in the bitter ending where Harry says he's seen her in every fairy tale hit very hard. I remembered another story and I'll tell you about it at the end, off topic part. I'm surprised what after seeing so many times her bad endings… he can still be surprised, sad, and actually continue feel… Emotions can be quite tedious and painful, and sometimes it's easier to just shut them down. Probably not all people can do this… In fact, I don't recommend doing this…. A world without emotions looks gray. Maybe it was depression… hmmm…

So now I have a vague idea of what was in the Harry's story for 95k in the first Dark IF. But I would still like to read it if I had the chance.

I really love this Kate. I don't remember her being so pushy or clingy in his route, but her desperate desire to be with him was literally palpable. And it was from the very beginning. And I find it refreshing that there was no sudden revelation "OMG, I LOVE HIM!". It's becoming old. She didn't realize it all of a sudden, she always felt this way and only in her thoughts tried to convince herself that this was not what she should do. Like… "I have a task… I have to do it… but…" In fact, it's very similar to real life again. I didn't expect that there would be so many references of our daily struggles...

I'm even more interested in Vivi. Is he some kind of keeper of this world? Is he as attached to it as Harry is? With the key? But he's more detached from the characters than Harry ever was. Perhaps because of how long he's been here… I don't know. We don't see any magic in him other than changing a fairy tale by clapping his hands, but Harry said he can do it too, so I don't see any difference. And if Vivi didn't create anything, then how was the fairy tale created? Who did this and why?

In William's Bitter Ending, Vivi said he will restart the story. So… he has sort of control over it. And it was he who sent Kate to look for the missing piece… so he should know what is missing.

Vivi is actually very sympathetic here. In the bitter ending, he seemed very upset about Kate's loss and gave her the key so she could stay. I suppose he had no other choice. It wasn't very kind of him, he should understand how difficult it is to be a lying fox in this world, but he still offers her this option as an alternative to forgetting everything. And in the premium ending, he is sincerely happy for them and believes that their future will be bright.

But… Maybe it's just a slumber… To find answers, we need to wait another year. Hopefully when Vivi's story comes out. But around April next year, Vivi's route will be released, and perhaps it will give us at least some hints of what to expect from this event. I'm very much looking forward to it.

And finally. But this is really off topic. There is a game called Mystic messager. If you play it, you know a character named Seven. That's not his name, that's what he called himself. For those of you who haven't played this game, this game in the form of a chats. You have several options to choose from, and based on your choises, you will reach one of the endings with one of the characters. There are a lot of bad endings. The whole game will take you 10 days (if I remember correctly). And less if you've reached a bad ending. Real days. But if you want to reach another ending, you should start over. And all the characters will think of you as a complete stranger... again. Doesn't it sound familiar? There was a theory in the community that Seven was the only one who never forgot. Who remembered her every restart, who loved her on every route. And then I read Harrison's endings… I thought… this is proof that the theory is correct. It doesn't matter that this is a completely different world and completely different developers. It still counts!!!

After reading Vivi's story translated by @.reccyls… I want to add a bit. I feel terribly stupid because I didn't figure out what was missing. It's like I'm truely a biggest idiot. That's how I feel. It was kind of obvious… And I like Vivi even more now. His " There has never been a single person like you before." hit me hard. As if it's really impossible. I don't feel despair from him, just calm loneliness. It's like he's already come to terms with it and doesn't even think that anything can change. This is even more upsetting.

And finally, there was another fairy tale mentioned in Vivi's story… a little mermaid. We don't have any characters from this fairy tale yet. Is this a hint for the next group of boys?…

dividers @.sister-lucifer (recolored with the author's permission)

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🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

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#ikemen villians #ikemen villains #ikevil #harrison grey #harrison gray #ikemen villains harrison #ikevil harrison #victor #ikemen villains victor #ikemen victor #ikevil victor #ikevil JP #ikevil event

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whirlybirbs · 2 months ago

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— CAN'T WE BE SEVENTEEN? ; shoto todoroki ; 焦凍

summary: he's loved you since he was seventeen. pairing: f!reader x pro hero!shoto ; reader was a 1-A student tags: mutual pining, heavy make-out, thinly veiled sugar daddy shoto, reader does not go pro, touya might be a dick but he's a hero now, shoto is bad at feelings wordcount: 5.6k a/n: i do not fucking know what came over me, enjoy your food my little todorokinas. yes the title is what you think it is. no i will not elaborate.

You never did go pro.

Truthfully, you thought there would be more pushback when, in your senior year, you announced your plan to pursue a degree in early childhood education with a focus on non-conforming quirk development.

The War changed a lot. It changed you, your classmates, and the world. But, through it all one thing stuck with you:

What if someone helped Tenko Shimura?

How different would his life have been? How different would history have spun?

You graduated at the top of your class and joined the faculty at Chiba Prefectural Preparatory School for Quirk Specialties two years ago.

Chiba Prep was opened eight years ago in response to a societal cry for more infrastructure around what was dubbed "non-conforming quirks": a nice way to say quirks that can injure, maim, or kill. Maybe even all three on a bad day. Some parents still see their child being labeled as a non-conforming quirk user in the national database as akin to social suicide.

You see it differently.

Your quirk allows you to manipulate emotions — anger, sadness, betrayal, love, hatred. If you can feel it, you can sink it into another's psyche deep enough to drive them to act. You can even imbue things with feelings. For example, a cup of warm milk can transform into more than just a simple comfort, now it can hold the feeling of home and safety, or even exhaustion strong enough to put even the biggest foe to rest.

You could easily use your quirk with nefarious intent.

You could steep hatred in someone's bone so deep it drives them to harm themselves. You could sew fury so solid into someone's mind it drives them to violence.

Just a touch and you can control others with something so intrinsically personal it only exists within themselves: their feelings.

What makes you any different from little Asuke, a shy little girl with a quirk that allows her to see people's greatest fears, and then manifest and control them? You're convinced she can use this for good, if only with practice. In your mind, her future is bright and glimmering. Perhaps she will become a therapist, focusing on exposure therapy? Or, maybe the most prolific horror novelist in their time?

Or, bright and sunny Tao — a transplant whose parents sought out Chiba Prep's specialized education — whose heteromorphic quirk makes his bodily fluids, namely saliva, eat through nearly anything but his own biologics. A sneeze is quickly the most dangerous thing in the world for the cheery, lizard-bodied class clown.

He's just a boy given a quirk that needs more care.

He isn't a villain-in-training.

None of them are.

It's important to teach them that young — and as their teacher for Year 3 of their elementary schooling, you aim to hammer that in as much as possible. They deserve to feel normal. To feel loved and supported. They aren't scary, they're children.

So, you take it upon yourself to insist on pushing for privileges like field trips. There aren't many public spaces that welcome the classes of Chiba Prep with open arms. Over the years, there have been plenty of incidents. But, a day trip into the city to visit Tokyo's Hall of Heroes is green-lit with bubbling excitement from both faculty, the children, and their parents.

You usually keep your history as a graduated member of Class 1-A quiet.

After all, you never did go pro.

And even still, Shoto Todoroki never stopped thinking about you.

He remembers that weekend everyone moved back in for their last year before graduation. He remembers you smiling at him, and helping him drag up a duffel of luggage from the common room to his dorm. You made a joke about how you're sure he got taller over the summer, and how his hair is longer now. You said you liked it.

It was the beginning of the end, then.

His crush was a silent, smothering thing. It made it hard to think. Shoto had enough on his plate thanks to Touya's acceptance into the Villain Rehabilitation Program and his father's insistence on staving off retirement. Not to mention his parent's divorce — no matter how amicable, it was still a separation. Add on training, tests, studying, finals, and j-term classes... And a desperate, writhing, burning crush on the nicest girl in class?

Touya's elbow digs into Shoto's side.

It drags him back to reality — to the stifled quiet of the historical Hall of Heroes.

Suddenly, the doors to the wing squeak open, and a tour guide ushers in the elementary school class. The buzzing excitement and wonder are visible on each of their faces as the attendant — one of the HoH's lead tour guides — excitedly explains the newest, in-progress addition to the Hall:

Endeavor's wing.

There's a whisper of awe that ripples through the children as their teacher and co-teacher follow, and as the class moves through the large, open space. They're staring up eagerly at the gilded statue in the center of the room. It's larger than life and intimidating. Years ago, Shoto might have had to fight the odd tremble in his knees at the reminder it brings: to be small in his father's shadow again. But, things are different now.

Very different.

Touya scoffs. "I thought this wing wasn't open to the public yet."

"They're just children," Shoto hums, turning his back on the gaggle across the way to inspect the large mural winding along the back end of the installation, "I'm sure it's—"

"Oh, ho, no way!"

Shoto quirks his brow at his brother's outburst. His elbow digs into Shoto's ribs again.

"Ain't that the pretty girl you never got the balls to ask out your senior year?" comes the rasped drawl of his older brother's voice. Touya is clearly amused, his white hair hanging in his eyes as he leans forward to squint, "She is cute, Sho'—"

"Shut up," Shoto grits, turning his head over his shoulder; he tries to bite back the flurry of nerves that ignite in his gut, "Stop talking."

It is you.

You look... good.

Happy.

You're crouched by a small, timid girl in the back of the crowd. Your hand is in hers, and you're pointing upwards at the large paneled screens replaying Endeavor's most historic fights. You're explaining something to her, your knees bent as you squat. You look... the same. As if in the six years since they graduated, you sat still in time.

For a second, it's like he's seventeen again.

It's his senior year, and he's stuck at the corner of the gym's edge with a half-empty glass of punch in his hand. The lights are low, and there's slow music playing. His tie feels too tight. Bakugo keeps telling him to 'ask her to dance already', and Kirishima is considering bashing his head through the wall. Even Midorya is trying to persuade Shoto.

"It's prom, man! C'mon, this could be your last chance—"

Touya is about to be a real pain in the ass — his favorite pastime — and make some comment about your ass, but when he turns to lob the one-liner at his baby brother, Shoto's gone.

Shoto is on the move.

The crescendo of gasps draws your attention first.

Then, the cry of "WOAH, IT'S SHOTO!" leaves you dumbfounded. The rippling murmur of excitement bleeds into the children as their eyes — and the eyes of the tour guide — widen at the sight of the approaching Pro Hero.

Shoto Todoroki.

He looks... good.

Really good.

He's a bit older, and a bit more filled out than when you were both teenagers. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders — it's a distant echo of his father's physique, though Shoto is so much more elegant and much... prettier. He's always been.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

It's your senior year, and you're sprawled across Momo Yaoyorozu's bed.

They had finally wrangled out of you who your crush was: something they hadn't been able to do in all their years as classmates.

There's a sticky, Miss Midnight-themed face mask clinging to your expression as you try to flip through the large magazine in your hands as nonchalantly as possible. Mina's voice, as she paints Ochaco's nails a bright pink on the floor, is sweet and saccharine as she looks up at you.

"I think you and Shoto would be, like, the cutest couple ever."

You're still crouched when the tour guide nervously — like she was caught doing something naughty — introduces The Pro Hero Shoto to the already-aware crowd of elementary school students and their teachers. It's like igniting a match; the uproar of excitement leaves you laughing as three of your boys push forward to bombard him with questions about his quirk.

Asuke is smiling shyly, now. That's a small win. She's intrigued by the appearance of a real hero, not the "scary statues" — and her big, fat tears stopped rolling the moment you laid a gentle hand on her to quell her anxiety over the new environment with a push of comfort through your quirk. She unhooks her pinkie finger from yours as you guide her towards your co-teacher.

"Boys," you call with a crisp air of authority as you stand and lead Asuke toward the bulk of the field trip group, "What have we learned about personal space?"

"It's fine, really, Insight," comes Shoto's voice; as warm and placid as you remember.

"Insight?" mutters your co-teacher at the presumed hero-name; a look of confusion plasters itself on her face, and her big, feline ears perk up. She leans in to whisper in a way that borders on conspiratory, "Do you two know one another?"

"Old classmates," you confirm, not daring to get into the finer details.

Shoto's attention is entirely rooted in the way you manage the kids. There's something beautiful about the ease with which you handle the bouquet of students; you quell the excitement into a manageable decibel like it's as easy as breathing.

"Shoto," you start as you gesture to him, "Has a very special quirk — Toyamai, he has ice like you. And, fire like Tojiro. He can regulate his temperature. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

There's a wave of hands shooting up, a few me, me, me's rise from the gaggle.

You're using him as a teaching moment.

Shoto's smile is soft.

You nod at Ogomi, excitedly nodding as the reserved child speaks up. Normally, he hates public speaking. But, recently, he's started working with the speech pathologist during lunch. The boy bounces a little as he answers. "He doesn't g-get too hot, or too c-cold."

"Exactly! Isn't that cool?" you grin at the lazy attempt at a pun, "This is why it's important to learn about our quirks as much as we can!"

Touya thinks this whole thing is just too cute.

You're different than he remembers — but, granted, things were sorta different last time he saw you. He was a little too busy tryna kill his old man and lil' Shoto. He's different now, too. A changed man! A real licensed hero. Support items and all.

He hangs back.

He... I mean, he is a jack-ass but he isn't gonna ruin this for Shoto.

...It's kinda cute.

Just about as cute as Fuyumi said it was.

Apparently, Shoto had opened up to her and Natsuo about his feelings after graduation — about how he regretted not doing anything about it. Fuyumi then told their mum, who then off-handedly mentioned it to Touya... and well Touya dug in because, duh, he is a whore for good gossip. He might be the family's black sheep, but Shoto is the glue that binds.

And he deserves to be happy.

Your co-teacher is ushering the kids to the next installation — a viewing of All Might's Legacy, a new documentary following the retired pro's teaching career. It will be a good wind down for them, in comfy seats and the dark. It's hardly the sort of content an elementary school student would find riveting, but it is All Might. And they love him.

You hang back.

Shoto's heart is hammering in his chest.

"Hey."

"Hi," you greet back, closing the door to the theater and stepping forward as you weave your arms around you, "Long time no see."

"Yea," Shoto breathes, his hands in his pockets as he meets you halfway across the museum's marble floors, "I... I see you're teaching."

His eyes are as pretty as they were back then. Slate grey and piercing turquoise. "I'm in my second year," you confirm softly, fiddling with the material of your sweater, "Congrats to your old man."

You gesture up at the statue, then wave around to the rest of the installation.

Shoto inhales, then nods; he's staring at your face, blissfully realizing you're just the way you were all those years ago. Kind. "I'll pass it along."

"How's he handling it?" you ask, your eyes raking across his expression and trying not to stick to the sharp slope of his jaw, or the bob of his Adam's apple, "Retirement, I mean."

"He's happy, I think. Touya and I are working together and... things are... good."

Last month, Endeavor finally retired. He cited his age, and his dedication to passing his legacy to his two sons: Shoto and Touya. Shoto has planted himself firmly within the Top Ten in the last year or so, and shockingly, Touya isn't far behind. People love an underdog's redemption story, you suppose.

And the underdog in question can read a room.

This is getting a little too sexually tense for even him.

"Heeeeey, girl," he rasps out, staggering backward with a thumb over his shoulder, "Nice t' see ya. I'll let you two catch up, yea? I'm gonna go pop my head into the theater, see how the kids are handling the snooze fest on screen—"

You jump.

How long has he even been there?

"Hi, D— Touya," you strain, wincing a little; the rehab'd villain doesn't seem to mind.

"Hi, teach'. That cool with you?" he asks, wobbling his thumb and quirking a pierced eyebrow; it's comical, like he's trying to disarm you with humor, "Don't want you thinkin' I'm corrupting your youths—"

"It's fine," you breathe, ignoring the sting of age-old mistrust. You know better. Shoto wouldn't be here, with him, if Touya Todoroki hadn't changed. Endeavor wouldn't be entrusting his legacy to the ex-League of Villain member if he didn't believe in his capacity for good, "Just don't be disruptive."

Casting judgment on someone whose life was nearly destroyed by his own non-conforming quirk would go against everything you taught the kids anyway.

"Touya's whole thing is being disruptive," Shoto grits as his oldest brother slips silently through the doors, "I apologize for him—"

"No," you wave him off, laughing a little, "Don't. It's... nice to see you two together."

Shoto's expression is soft as he wanders a little closer. "It took time — and a lot of therapy — but we've all managed to come out the other side."

"That's great to hear, Shoto," you breathe, your eyes flitting across his face, "I'm really happy for you."

There's a long silence, then — and you can't help but ignore the roil of butterflies in your stomach. The eye contact is heavy with some unspoken thing, and both of your tongues are weighted by secrets-never-turned-confessions.

It's like finally this dance you've been doing around one another for years breaks — and the two of you throw caution to the wind at the exact same moment.

"Would you like to—"

"Are you free—"

Hesitant, slow grins bloom on both your faces.

"Dinner?" is all he manages after a sweet moment of soaking up your soft smile, "If you're available...?"

You make yourself available.

Yaoyorozu almost dies when you call her that night — winded from tearing through your entire wardrobe. You explained you had nothing to wear a-and you needed something nice, and you only have an hour to get ready, because Todoroki — yes, stop screaming, Todoroki — is picking you up at 8pm.

Little bro is nervous. Touya can tell.

From his spot on the sofa, the white-haired ex-degenerate scoffs. Natsuo is digging around for some cufflinks in Shoto's dresser.

"Seriously, Sho'? A suit?"

"It's a nice restaurant," his brother says tightly, adjusting the collar of the black button-down, "I booked the upstairs dining room for privacy."

"Who the hell told you t' do that?" Touya quirks a skeptical brow.

"Father was the one who suggested it."

"...That old dog."

Natsuo rolls his eyes at the exchange before throwing his hands as he emerges from the closet. "Do you have any links that aren't emblazoned with U.A. High School's crest?"

The ones in Natsuo's hands have his graduation year on them.

Shoto winces.

"Want me to ask dear ol' dog of a dad?" Touya snarks from the corner, his posture becoming less and less upright as he scrolls on his phone.

"Already did," comes the soft voice of Fuyumi; she's smiling, padding into Shoto's room with a velvet box, "He offered up his nicest pair. He also says not to screw it up with Insight. He likes her."

Of course, he likes her. You worked under Endeavor for a brief work-study period during your third year. Shoto remembers hearing grumbled praise over dinner one night about your talent for de-escalation.

"You told him who I was seeing?" Shoto asks incredulously, taking the box and working the cufflinks on. He's starting to feel exasperated.

Fuyumi nods, popping down beside Touya.

"He asked. I'm not gonna lie to him."

"Did y' tell ma?" Touya rasps, peeking up over his phone to inspect Shoto's outfit. Not half bad, honestly. He looks good in all black. A man after his own heart, "M'sure she's gonna be real excited—"

"Yes," Shoto grumbles, "I called her earlier—"

"Chiba Prep is a really good school, y'know," Natsuo buts in as he tries to find a tie that matches Shoto's outfit. Ultimately, though, the middle brother decides against it and tosses the options over his shoulder, "They're, like, on the leading edge for quirk therapies."

"Hey, nerd? Quiet down. The big kids are gossiping," Touya shirks, turning back to Shoto, "What did mum say?"

"She wants me to call her after—"

"One, you're gonna call mum the morning after," Touya raises a finger, "Because if you don't get laid, I'll be so fuckin' disap—"

Fuyumi slaps Touya's chest. He lets out a pained yelp at the solid smack.

"Uh, ow," he rubs his sternum. "An' two, take a deep breath. You look like you're gonna shit yourself. Those are my pants and they're expensive."

Shoto lets out a long breath.

Fuyumi's smile is sweet like honey. "Aw, Sho'! It's gonna go great. You two have known each other for such a long time, and catching up is going to be amazing. Just be yourself! Confident and kind—"

"—Hold the door open for her, and pull her chair out," Natsuo adds as he adjusts Shoto's collar for him, "Car door, too—"

It's Touya's turn. He's dead serious. "—And do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night. I swear to god."

Easier said than done.

You never did go pro.

Those years of hardened battle instincts have lost their edge. You try to remind yourself this is just Shoto, not The Shoto — but you're a little lost in the whole celebrity of it all when he picks you up in a very nice, sporty little car with ENDVRplates.

You answer the door and he forgets how to breathe.

He has flowers for you. They're blue and blooming and beautiful.

Fuyumi's contribution.

You settled then you were going to kiss him at the end of the night.

The restaurant is... nice. Really nice. The sort of nice you could never aspire to experience on your teacher's salary. Even the valet is a concept that has your head spinning. But, Shoto handles it all with cool ease. The entire time, his hand is settled on your lower back.

It feels like you've been lit on fire.

You're glad Momo was able to create a dress fitting for the occasion. It's sleek and black. Comfortable, too. Not much can be said for your heels on that front, but it's fine.

Somehow, Shoto managed to book the entire upper floor of this place in all its glimmering glory — it's just the two of you alone in a sea of tables.

The waiter is pouring you a glass of the chef's suggested pairing of sake.

You thank him, smile, and take a sip as Shoto unbuttons his suit jacket and watches you.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

Sero and Kirishima were always in cahoots when it came to parties back then — somehow, between the two of them, they always managed to smuggle enough booze onto campus to obliterate any semblance of promised sobriety from even the most stoic members of 1-A.

You remember one night, after a lot of hounding, you finally gave in and joined a few of your classmates on the back lawn for a few drinks.

A few beers turned into a cup or two of wine, and then another big gulp of whatever deranged jungle juice concoction Kaminiari managed to cook up. It tasted terrible, but you were too drunk to really care. Shoto was no better. He was nursing his fourth drink of the night — a rarity he was even drinking at all — and seemed completely fine with the way your arms brushed as the two of you sat close in the grass.

He was always so nervous around you. Now, he just seemed... happy.

"I can't believe there is only one week left until graduation."

Graduation day was the last time you saw him.

Until this morning, that is.

You smile into your drink.

"What?" you ask when his eyes never leave your face.

His fingers twitch towards his own glass. Shoto blinks, then rolls his jaw. He was caught staring. He clears his throat, looking a bit shy. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" you press playfully, cocking your head to the side.

"You..." he starts, then bawks. You're stunning, and it's making it hard to even think straight. He thought these feelings might have mellowed out over the years but seeing you again has just reignited everything. He feels like a hormonal teenager again, "You look beautiful."

Your expression falters into something lovesick. You chew your lip. "You're not so bad yourself, Todoroki."

He manages a half-smile. "Touya had me worried the suit was a bit much."

The idea of Touya offering him advice on his outfit strikes a chord in your heart. It makes you smile even bigger than before. "Well, you can tell Touya that I like it. A lot."

You rake your eyes up and down him. On purpose.

He notices.

Shoto's face feels hot.

He tries to shake the bone-deep want that has swept his entire body up in its grip, but it's difficult when every single word out of your mouth reminds him just how in love he was with you back in school. You explain, excitedly, why you chose to teach at Chiba Prefectural Prep and catch him up on where you've been living since graduating. He's pleased to learn you're still in the area, living in the city, and decidedly in love with the commute to the school.

Shoto's always been a good listener — but you can see how much he's changed when he begins to speak about his career. He seems so much more sure of himself than he was all those years ago. It wasn't that he was... unsure... but, no. He was shy. Quiet.

Now, less so.

It's adorable.

Dinner comes and goes with conversation over sushi that is far too good for you to even process. It's easy talking to him. It was easy talking to Shoto back, then, too but... Things are different. You're both different. Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like coming home.

While you both wait outside for the valet, Shoto shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders without a single word. Suddenly, you're cradled in a warmth that's very Shoto — his cologne clings to the collar and you bury yourself a little deeper into it.

Shyly, you step closer and steal his hand. It's calloused and warm. He laced his fingers with yours as if practiced. You bite back a grin. You give his hand a little squeeze when you spot the car coming around the corner.

His silence is calming — and he squeezes your hand back. When you look up at him, you realize he's already looking at you.

His face is close. It's so... intimate. Very. Nearly better than a kiss.

But, you've wanted to kiss Shoto Todoroki since you were seventeen.

The valet driver interrupts the moment with a respectful call of Shoto's name and offers the keys with a shake of the hand. With a little bit of hesitancy, Shoto remembers the thing Natsuo said — the car door, too — and moves around the passenger side to open the door for you.

It's sweet.

Really sweet.

The car ride back to your apartment is punctuated with easy conversation — you ask him about Bakugo and Midorya, and you're pleased to hear they're both doing well. He asks about Momo, and if you still keep in touch with Mina and Ochaco. He smiles to himself when you admit you did call Momo for help with an outfit.

"She did a beautiful job," Shoto breathes, a palm moving from the gear shift to brush over the dress' fabric on your thigh.

His hand settles there.

Your stomach does a flip.

You chew your lip, swallow down a sudden burst of nerves, and let your hand rest over his. You squeeze it. Shoto tries to focus on the road. His gaze drifts for a moment at a red light, his heterochromatic eyes dancing across your figure.

Keep it together.

He isn't seventeen.

He's twenty-five. He's a Professional Hero. One of the Top Ten in all of Japan. He's more than capable of keeping it together in the face of physical touch from the woman he's dreamed about for years.

...Right?

Green light.

His hand is still on your thigh when he pulls up to your apartment.

The touch is relinquished in favor of putting the sports car in park.

It makes your chest ache.

Shoto swallows thickly.

Do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night.

He'll never forgive himself. But, admittedly, he's bad at this. He's not good at reading body language, or even knowing himself enough to realize he looks mildly terrified as you blink up at him in the passenger's seat. His heart is hammering a mile a minute.

What if you don't want to kiss him?

When would he even kiss you? Now? Or at the door?

Why does he feel like he's going to die?

"This was really... Shoto, are you okay?" you ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt; you pause, your brows knitting tightly.

"What?" he asks, blinking back to the present moment. The look of fear disappears, "Sorry. Yes. I'm fine."

You're working his jacket off your shoulders, gently leaning to fold it neatly in your lap. Your voice dips low, into something playful. "You didn't look fine..."

"I—" Shoto clamps his mouth shut as he leans an elbow on the center console, "Sorry. I suppose I'm just nervous."

"Nervous?" you grin, a little giggle punctuating your words as you wriggle in the red, leather seat, "Why?"

Your expression makes his expression crack. He ducks his head as he huffs out a laugh. You continue to egg him on via expression alone. "I... Stop it."

"Stop what?" you push some more, your back pressed to the door as you face him in the car, "You're the one being weird—"

"I'm not being weird—"

"Then what's wrong, Shoto?" you tease in a sing-song voice.

"I'm nervous because I want to kiss you."

His words are punctuated by a slow look that takes in every inch of your face. Butterfly wings kiss your stomach walls. And your knees. You feel a little tremble in your chest.

It feels like someone has sucker punched you square in the sternum. Shoto's no better. He isn't entirely sure what the expression on your face means. Is that... good? Are you happy?

Your voice is a little quieter now. You duck your head and fiddle with his suit jacket as you lean back against the seat, a little closer now.

"You don't need to be."

Shoto's breath catches at that.

So, he makes his move.

His hand comes first — his calloused palm settles nicely against your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as his pointer finger brushes the underside of your jaw. Shoto is slow. Methodical. It's like he's trying to ground himself in the moment.

Truth be told, he thinks he might be blacking out.

Your eyes flit up his wrist — a dark leather band around his wrist with an expensive watch face, a dark dress shirt with glimmering cufflinks, strong arms and a broad chest, and you can see the dip of his collarbone where the top two buttons of his shirt remain undone.

He looks so damn handsome with his sharp jaw, pretty eyes, and his trademark white and crimson hair. Even his scar is beautiful.

The touch pulls you in like he's got his own personal orbit.

Your elbows are braced along the center console, your eyes flicking across his face as his fingers continue to brush along the soft expanse of your cheek. You wring your fingers together.

Then, his eyes stick to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your face.

You never did go pro.

But, Shoto did.

It shows.

Because, at this moment, all you can do is nod feebly before you're swept into the sort of kiss people go to war for. It's the sort of kiss that sticks to your ribs, that feels like warm, fresh food. It's the sort of kiss that would drive you to the brink, that would make you nod and agree sure, let's get married and have three kids, let's name one after your father, and paint the house blue like your mother's favorite flower—

His mouth is eager, but not in an overbearing way. It's gentle. Slow. As if he needs to remind himself this is real and not some midnight fiction that leaves him aching and alone. Shoto reminds himself to be tepid, pliable, and easy, which is easier said than done when somewhere deep inside of him there's a seventeen-year-old screaming in victory.

It's better than anything he could have ever imagined.

And then you whimper.

It's a sound tied between bliss and relief and it's muttered against his mouth as you lean in and let your fingers brush the fabric of his dress shirt. The tips of your fingers brush his abdomen and he flexes, the feeling foreign and warm. It warrants his other hand to drift to your face and you break for a breath; he doesn't care that there's lipstick smeared across his mouth. He's kissing you again — this time a little bit more feverish, a little bit more aching.

You melt against him, this time your hands trembling to grip his wrists.

He needs to slow down.

He is not having sex with you in his father's car.

That's shameless.

He needs to slow down.

He has to, or he'll lose himself in this and he refuses to fuck this up.

Shoto's breath is ragged when he finally peels himself away, his lip parted and eyes half-lidded. His grip on your face is still so soft, so gentle. It's very him.

You're glad you didn't do this when you were seventeen.

It would have permanently altered your brain chemistry, you're sure of it. How could you ever kiss someone else again after that?

He's rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You swallow, and try to level out your breathing. It's hard when he's still so close, when he's so... perfect.

"I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against your cheek, "Since our last year at Yuei."

A well-kissed smile breaks across your face. You reel back, your nose wrinkling as you shake your head in disbelief. Shoto is smiling. A real smile. The sort that's so rare you can count on one hand the amount of times you've ever seen it in person.

"Are you serious?"

"Very," he says, chastely pressing another to your other cheek as he leans back.

"Me too," you admit shyly, "Can we... do it again sometime?"

Shoto's eyes widen incrementally. Then, his smile eases back onto his face.

"Are you free this weekend?"

"I can be," you reply easily with a honeyed look, "And I will be. For you."

"I get off patrol on Saturday around seven," he explains before asking timidly, "We could... do dinner again?"

"Works for me," you breathe as you move for the handle of the car door, "After all, I never went Pro. Weekends are free."

Shoto scoffs.

Then, as you open the door and swing a leg out:

"Oh, and tell Touya I thought the suit sexy."

Shoto's laugh is dry. You leave his jacket on the seat and scurry into your apartment with a lovesick wave. He swears he sees the silhouette of a familiar ponytail greet you at the door, but he doesn't dwell on it. He waits until you're inside and the lights to the front door are shut off.

Then it hits him. He has another date with you this weekend.

Not so seventeen anymore, Shoto Todoroki.

#todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x you #shoto todoroki imagine #mha imagine #bnha imagine #shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #touya todoroki #i LOOOOVE HERO TOUYA #HE IS SOOOOOO CUNTY

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nkogneatho · 5 months ago

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Y'all know those insecure girlfriends on tiktok when their boyfriend does their makeup accurately, they go “what bitch taught you that?” yeah, Gojo is the male version of that.

He knows he is attractive, and that everyone dotes on him. But you look out of this world. Everybody wants you. Like all of his friends have tried to hit on you a few times. They said it's just playful, but his insecurities kicked in.

One evening, you showed up to one of his totally unserious basketball games with his homies, cheering him every time he dunks.

“Suguru, my girl's watchin'. Gotta show off a bit, yeah?” he smirks, licking his lips his reflexes were so good that barely anyone else could keep up with him. It was like he had drank 10 liters of energy drink with the sudden speed boost.

You hopped in his arms when the match was over, peppering his face with kisses as he enjoyed his victory, showing a middle finger to suguru to which he rolled his eyes.

“you look so cool when you jump so high, toru!” you squealed in happiness. He really did look cool.

“hehe, you liked that, baby? Jumped a little higher just for you.” he kissed your forehead.

“hate to say it, but he is undefeated.” suguru spoke up. “feel like we need to put you on the court, y/n just to distract him so we can win.” your cheeks started burning up at that. You and satoru have been dating for a few months, but you were still not used to the way everyone talks about him as if he's a simp for you. well, he is and should be.

“i would still win though.” your eyes shifted to gojo. You were a little offended at that, even though it was just messing around. It was his habit.

“alright. Let's have a 1v1” the men did not miss the shift of your tone. Suguru knew satoru might be in trouble, while the white haired wasn't worrying about it too much. Because you're not too savvy with basketball aside from what he's taught you, and he is a pro. Sure, you would be mad later, but nothing he can't make up to you.

The boys spread in corners, as you and gojo exchanged a competitive gaze—yours was competitive and his was more of a “i love when you get riled up”—before the match began. The game was not anything serious, so all you had to do was score five points. It was a piece pf cake for gojo but you were being surprisingly competitive. You scored two points just as soon as he did. His homeboys thought that gojo was going easy on you but suguru knew he was struggling. But he lives up to his name and score two points, making him just 1 score away from his sweet victory. There's no way you can win now. If you miss this chance, it's over. But you remembered something someone had taught you and all that “i'd still win though” just pumped up enough adrenaline and oh. my. god.

Gojo's jaw dropped as you shot a three pointer, your lips widening into an evil grin, and all the boys cheered at your win. You were sure they're gonna tease him about today until eternity. Toru was impressed…well, for a few seconds before he hit you with a,

“which motherfucker taught you that? because I don't remember teaching you this yet.” you were laughing but his reaction was genuine.

“hey, c'mon now. don't call me a motherfucker.” suguru slid in, a hand resting on gojo's arm. “i'm a good teacher, aren't I?” he winked at you.

“the fuck? When the fuck did you teach her?”

“last week when we were playing at toji's party.” gojo was too busy playing beer bong at that time.

“thank you, suguru. And you…" you looked at your man, "where is allat “but I'd still win though” attitude?” you mocked him.

“ight fine. you got me. i was just messin' around and ya'know that. don't get mad at me, baby,” he snaked an arm around your waist. “we're both winners. We gotta celebrate properly, right?” he leaned closer to your ears.

“now let's see who wins in the bedroom, tonight. hmm? You know i gotta settle the score, princess.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you

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rin-may-1103 · 6 days ago

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The Eyes of Death.

This story is mostly inspired by Jaybirbie's prompt | Master post | Next?

"Hey, sweetheart?" Danny called, quickly jotting down the last sentence for his paper. He'd have to remember to go back and reread it and make sure he didn't trail off into another tangent. He swears he wasn't this bad at managing his ADHD back in Amity...

"Yes, Danny?" Damian asked, turning back from the door to face him as he scrolled further down the story he was reading. The familiar font of Gotham City's gazette blurred as a picture of Mr. Freeze and Penguin finally loaded. So that's what was going on. Danny should have known; the bats already dealt with the other usual rouges, and these two were next on the list.

"Can you walk with me? I just know Nancy and her boyfriend are out there, waiting. I really don't want to deal with them again... We could spend more time at my place? Tucker sent me another movie, and I'm unsure if I should watch it alone after last time." Danny pleaded, quickly shoving all of his papers into his bag. He'd deal with straightening them out later, it wasn't like his professors weren't used to his wrinkled essays at this point.

However, he should probably redo the blueprints for Workshop. Mr. Anthlow was a hardass, but nothing could compare to his anger when a student handed in wrinkled blueprints; he claimed he wasn't going to have another 'Tanner' incident on his watch, whatever the heck that meant.

He was not looking forward to whatever Nancy wanted to talk to him about, she looked excited. Which could only mean bad things for him; considering the last time she was excited, he ended up spending time with Bane of all people. And there was no way her boyfriend was just going to let Danny get away again.

Damian grimaces, finally looking up and away from his phone. "I'm sorry beloved..." he held up the device just in time to show an incoming text from his Father, "I promised Father I'd be home a while ago. And with what's happening down on-"

"It's ok, I'll just head out the back door," Danny cut in, seeing the start of guilt on his boyfriend's face. He knew how much Danny hated having to deal with those two, and the fact Damian hasn't been able to even introduce himself to them hasn't helped. With a smile, Danny scooped up his textbooks and made his way to stand in front of Damian, "They can't bother me if they don't see me!"

Unsurprisingly, Danny could feel the guilt grow and start to float around Damian as the boy glanced at his phone, the message tone sounding out again in warning.

Danny only met Damian's father once; it was just a simple shake of hands and sharing names before the man ran off, but it did leave an impression. The man felt tired and paranoid; like, to the point Danny kind of wanted to drag Jazz over and lock the two of them in a room, paranoid. (Danny wants to say he's never seen someone that paranoid, but he'd be lying. He looks in the mirror after all.)

The point is; Danny's only met the man once, but that was enough for him to know that the man would tear down the world if he thought for even a second that one of his kids was in danger. This meant, that if Damian didn't go and reassure his father that he was alive and safe within the next sixty or so seconds, then there was a possibility that there wouldn't be another date for at least another week.

And considering this "study date" was supposed to make up for the last one Damian had missed because of his Father? Yeah, Danny wasn't going to be happy if Damian got grounded or dragged into another 'surprise' family road trip because his father was convinced his children would be dead before the 'yearly' planned get-together in November.

They had a trip to the zoo planned for tomorrow, and Delilah was supposed to be allowed out with her kids. This would be Delilah's first public outing since her kids' birth. There's no way Danny was going to allow Damian to miss that. (he swears to the ancients, if there was a rouge attack he was going to kill someone, Dark Dan's future be damned.)

Lifting his heels off the ground so he could stand on his tiptoes, Danny snagged Damian's arm and pulled him down so he could kiss his cheek. "I'll get home safe, just focus on keeping your dad from going insane. We've got a date at the zoo tomorrow and we're not missing it even if your father becomes the next city rogue."

Damian wrapped his arms around Danny, trapping him in a hug as he sighed in fond frustration. "I promise I won't miss it, ok? I'll be there."

Danny rolled his eyes and pushed Damian back, dropping back to stand on the ground, "You better, 'cause hell hath no fury like a gorilla denied the chance to meet her human best friend's boyfriend."

Damian snorted, before looking away and pretending to cough. Danny moved his textbooks to rest more securely in one of his arms, so he could point at his boyfriend. "I'm not kidding, if I show up tomorrow and tell her all about my life and you're not there, she will break out and track you down. I won't stop her either, you'd deserve whatever she does to you."

"Alright, alright. I get it, and I already promised I'd be there didn't I?" Damian chuckled, raising his hands up in surrender. Which would have been cute if it wasn't for the fact that his phone went off again, this time in an insistent buzzing. His eldest brother's ringtone; which meant Damian was going to be busy for a while.

Cursing, Damian turned and answered, "I'm in the middle of something, this better be important Grayson," glancing back at Danny, he mouthed for him to wait a moment as his brother started talking.

Smiling, Danny shook his head, snatched Damian's jacket, and started making his way out the door. There was no way Damian would finish this phone call any time soon. Danny's learned not to wait after the last four times this happened. Damian turned back with betrayed eyes, but the urgent voice of his brother buzzing even louder held him back. Waving goodbye with a smile, Danny shut the door and started making his way down the hall.

He'd have to ask Damian what happened tomorrow, Grayson didn't usually call him, especially when he knew Damian was spending time with Danny. He said it had something to do with how it was sacrilege to interrupt time spent with a significant other. Danny had wanted to ask him more about it but hadn't gotten the chance when The Riddler crashed their spontaneous meeting.

Speaking of The Riddler, Danny's social science paper wasn't looking too hot right now. He'd have to block out a time for him to work on that at some point this week. He wasn't doing anything on Friday, well, besides his early morning classes. That should work...

"Hey, Danny!" someone called, pulling him out of his musing. Glancing up, Danny internally groaned when he noticed Nancy waving at him in sheer delight. Giving her a half-hearted wave, Danny sped up and continued making his way to the back of the library. If he was quick enough maybe he could-

To his dismay, Nancy's boyfriend stepped out from behind one of the shelves and latched onto his arm. Tightly.

Just great, this is exactly what he wanted to avoid. Curse his inability to pay attention when he got lost in thought. Damn ADHD. Blasted non-existent spatial awareness. This was what he got for relying on his ghost sense, he just knows it.

"She said hi, kind of rude of you to just keep walking, Kid." Wyatt huffed, roughly dragging Danny back and towards his girlfriend. Nancy smiled brightly as Wyatt let him go, allowing Nancy to weave her arm with Danny's and practically drag him toward the front of the building.

"There's this big party going on tonight, some Jr invited us. He said it was going to be a night to remember! You should totally come with us, Danny! My friend Shela said she was bringing her nerdy freshmen too! I just know you'd fit right in with them!" Nancy squealed excitedly, shaking Danny as they finally made it to the front doors.

One of the desk attendants rolled their eyes at them as Danny glanced over, hoping that Barbara might intervene. No such luck, she was nowhere in sight, probably off somewhere shelving books. So much for that plan.

"uh, thanks, but I already-" Danny tried, stopping when Nancy scoffed and yanked him out the door and into the frosty night. "Damn, it's cold!" Wyatt cursed, taking his jacket off and quickly handing it over to Nancy. She let go of Danny and pulled it on, then stared at Danny for a moment, "Put your coat on Danny, no way in hell am I letting my kid catch a cold!"

Rolling his eyes, Danny wrapped Damian's coat over his shoulders. He was too lazy to actually put it on, not when that meant handing his textbooks over. The last time he did that, Nancy got bored and started doodling all over them. (how she had managed to do that in the little time it took to put a hoodie on, Danny wasn't sure.)

"I just want to go home, Nancy. I'm not really a party person." Danny sighed, allowing Nancy to drag him down the dark streets. His apartment was in this general direction anyway. Nancy turned to her boyfriend with a huff, "Wyatt! make him come with us!"

"Let the nerd do what he wants, it's not like it affects us if he kicks the bucket all alone," Wyatt grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Ouch, but true. Please listen to your grumpy boyfriend, please listen to your grumpy boyfriend, please listen-

"But Shela said she was bringing Carly!" Nancy turned back to Danny, a pout clear on her face, "You two would be so cute together! she's nerdy just like you! And she's totally into all those murder mystery shows you watch!"

Damn it. Not this crap again.

"That's nice, Nancy, but I'm not interested. I already told you guys, I have a boyfriend," Danny sighed, trying to gently extract his arm from hers; for a human, Nancy sure had one heck of a grip.

"Yeah, right," Wyatt snorted, patting Danny's back, completely ignoring the fact that Danny was literally wearing someone else's jacket. "We'll believe you when you introduce us, until then. You're a virgin loser."

And there we go, people; the reason Danny wanted to crawl into the sewer and die whenever he saw these two. They were nice, don't get him wrong, but they were also stubborn idiots.

"Being a virgin has nothing to do with my relationship status, Wyatt. I'm ace. you've known this since the first time we talked." Danny grumbled, allowing Nancy to drag him down another street. He wasn't sure exactly where they were going now, but he was too tired to care at this point.

If these self-claimed 'Parents' of his wanted to drag him to this stupid party, then fine. Whatever. It's not like Danny had any other plans tonight anyway.

"Asexuality isn't a thing man," Wyatt huffed, speeding up so he could guide them in the right direction now that they were heading into a rougher patch of buildings. Danny could see the man was shivering, though trying to act tough in front of Nancy. Smirking, Danny sent a cold breeze his way. The man scowled up at the sky, cursing quietly.

"Yeah!" Nancy agreed, smiling brightly down at Danny without a care in the world. Like they didn't have this conversation every other week. "You just haven't met the right person yet, Danny! And I know how awkward it is to admit that you're staying celibate until marriage, but you don't have to hide it behind being ace."

Taking a deep breath, Danny closed his eyes and focused on not shouting out of frustration. The celibate comment was new, the acephobia, not so much. "Ok, first of all; Asexuality is a thing, which many people ARE. Literally, 1% of the world is ace. That's over 70 million people. Second of all, I'm not celibate, and I'm not sure if you even know what that means, considering you know I was raised Atheist."

"What does being an Atheist have to do with celibacy?" Nancy asked, tilting her head to look at him. Danny groaned, smacking his forehead against his textbooks. He was NOT going to explain this to them tonight.

"You know what, Nancy? It doesn't matter." Danny huffed, trying again to gently pry her hands off. He wanted to go home. He wanted to cuddle with his boyfriend. He wanted to go back to Amity. Maybe go to the realms and play with Cujo. He did NOT want to deal with these idiots.

Wyatt stopped walking and turned to face them, rolling his eyes as Nancy pouted at Danny. "Come on babe, let the loser go. He obviously doesn't appreciate your efforts."

"but who else is going to convince him to live a little? He's just going to go back to his apartment and sulk by himself!" Nancy cried, tightening her grip again.

"Who cares what the kid does, Nancy? let the dude die a virgin loser. Now let's go, we're already late as is."

"But I really want him to-," Nancy tried, cutting herself off, as both she and Danny spotted a cloaked person appear out of the shadows behind Wyatt.

Wyatt lifted his brow before slowly turning to see what the two of them were staring at. The cloaked figure suddenly whacked him over the head with a metal pole before he could fully turn around. Wyatt's body dropped to the ground with a heavy thump, making Nancy scream, "Wyatt!"

Shit, Danny stepped back, trying to pull Nancy with him as the cloak dude tossed the metal pole to the side with a loud clank. Which was confusing, why would he through away his weapon?

"Shut her up!" the cloak dude cried, bending down to grab Wyatt's arms. He better not be telling Danny to do that, because that would just be stupid and- Suddenly, a dozen more cloaked people flooded out of the darkness and surrounded them. That answered Danny's questions at least.

Danny tensed up as a couple of the people tried to grab onto him. Quickly pulling Nancy back, successfully this time, Danny glanced around to try and find an exit. He couldn't do anything crazy right now, not unless he wanted to give away his secret, but some self-defense should be fine.

Nancy suddenly let go of his arm and smacked one of the cloaked people in the face, "Don't you fucking dare touch me! Wyatt! Kid, get out of here!"

Danny turned to her in alarm, eyes wide in horror as she quickly disappeared into the cloaked crowd. Another cloaked person managed to latch onto Danny's shoulder, reminding him to focus on his situation. Quickly stepping back, he slammed into the man grabbing him, knocking his grip loose. Ducking under another attempt, Danny swung out his leg and tripped the dude into two others.

Twisting to try and make his way over to where he figured Nancy was, Danny dropped his textbooks and punched someone in the face. Damian's jacket was yanked off his shoulders, making him turn with a growl. Punching another person in the face, Danny lunged at the group.

"Hurry! before the bats find us!" the supposed leader cried, making even more cloaked people surround Danny. There was no way a normal civilian would be able to fight their way out of this, so Danny would have to allow himself to be caught soon. Only after biting and scratching the fuck out of them though. Just because he had to let them catch him, doesn't mean he has to make it easy.

~30 min later

Danny stared at the leader as the man droned on and on about needing the right sacrifice for the ritual to work. Nancy and Wyatt grumbled behind him, agreements from the other kidnapped victims filling Danny's ears like bees.

"The sacrifice shall be the one who treads the veil between life and death, the one who's beloved by the spirits as their own! He shall be pale as a corpse, his body kissed by death many times throughout his life. His hair as black as the sky on a moonless night, cradled by the moon since birth." Mr. totally-read-one-fake-ritual-book-when-he-was-a-teen-and-now-has-to-make-it-everyone's-problem droned on dramatically, reverently dragging his finger down the old dusty tome's page,

"so Mr. Wayne?" Nancy huffed, pressing her back into Danny's side. Wyatt chuckled, shoving his foot into Danny's knee, "No, it's totally Mr. Drake he's talking about. Have you seen that dude's eyebags? they make him look like a ghost."

One of the strangers leaned over, rolling their eyes, "No, it's got to be Mr. Dent. The dude's literally half living half not."

"No, Two-Face is half insane, half burnt chicken. Ain't nothing about him going to please ghosts. He was a fucking lawyer, for Christ shake." another guy added.

"the dude said 'he' which crossed out half of y'all," Danny added, glancing at the group around him. The women blinked and then rolled their eyes; only in Gotham would they get kidnapped and not actually be needed.

"Assholes," Nancy huffed, she glanced over her shoulder and down at him, her face set into a frown, "You good, kid? you're like freezing cold."

"I'm fine," Danny huffed, focusing back on the leader. He could just feel the old magic rolling off the book; this was something dangerous, especially in this dipshit's hands. Ancients, he was going to have to do everything he could to keep the man from actually doing the ritual or mess it up if the bats didn't get here in time.

One of the cloaked people suddenly dragged a camera out from a side room, grumbling about networks and livestreams being shit. Huh, well that would definitely help provide their location to the bats. They must be really inexperienced cultists then...

"The sacrifice shall fall into our hands by fate's design. The sacrifice is here and waiting for what his whole life was meant for. Now-"

"Elder!" one of the other cloaked figures cried, waving their phone in the air in excitement. Dread quickly filled Danny's stomach.

"All the bats and birds are busy dealing with those scoundrels they call rouges! If we hurry, we can complete the ritual before they can interfere!"

"Perfect!" Mr. 'Elder', cheered, slamming the tome closed and handing it off to one of the others. "So?" Mr. Elder started, turning to face them with a sharp grin, "Who's it going to be?"

Danny glanced at the group behind him, all of them having gone silent as the cloaked group started pulling out their ritual things, one of which was a very blood-stained knife.

Mr. Elder started circling them, humming and hawing as he studied each one of them. He stopped next to Wyatt, studying him intently.

Quickly weighing his options, Danny straightened up and glared at the man, "I'll be your sacrifice."

Immediately Nancy leaned away from him with a gasp, Wyatt's foot dropping to the floor with a thud. "Danny, no!" Nancy hissed, turning her body so she could face him. Danny didn't glance at her, just continued glaring at the cultist. The cult leader laughed, "Well then. So it shall be! You heard the sacrifice, tie him to the chair!"

With everyone watching, all Danny could do was tense as four of the followers walked over and pulled him up. "No!" Nancy shouted, leaning over and grabbing onto him. Wyatt reached out to Nancy, wanting to pull her back. The men tensed up, ready to interfere. Quickly pulling back, Danny frowned at Nancy and Wyatt, "I'll be ok, just don't do anything stupid!"

They harshly pulled him up and away again, before Nancy could reply. And because he was already pissed off, he made it as difficult for them as possible as they dragged him to the wooden chair. The camera person focused the lens on them, recording it as they shoved him down to sit and wrapped a bloody rope around his limbs.

So much for thinking they were inexperienced... They've done this before, he knows now. How many times? He wasn't sure, but if he had any say in it after tonight, they'd never do it again.

Once he was securely tied to the chair and gagged, because Danny couldn't help himself but insult them, the cultist started preparing the ritual. Why they hadn't done so beforehand, Danny wasn't sure; that is until one of them sliced a deep gash into his right arm and collected his blood into a bowl.

With a grimace, Danny watched as they mixed his blood with black paint and started drawing a circle around him. The camera dude stepped closer and practically shoved the camera into his face. leaning back, Danny glanced between the camera and the people drawing with his blood.

Suddenly, his arm tingled with ectoplasm, making him panic for a second. he can't heal the wound! not with all the people around him and being recorded! Shit, what had Vlad done last time?? Uh, right! core smothering. He could just smother his core to stop his body from healing. Man, acting like a civilian was a pain in the ass.

Glaring up at the camera now that he wasn't as panicked, Danny watched as the dude stepped back, pulled out a paper, and started reading out loud. "GOTHAM! tonight you shall join us as we summon the most powerful being in the world!"

Did he seriously need the paper just to remember that?

The leader stepped forward when the circle was complete, "Now!" His voice echoed around the silent warehouse, startling the other kidnapped victims. The cameraman turned and focused on him, stepping out of the circle altogether. Danny watched the kidnapped people out of the corner of his eye, wanting to make sure they weren't hurt during this whole fiasco.

"Let us begin!" the leader cheered, suddenly gripping Danny's shoulders tightly. "Join me as we summon our lord and savior! The great tyrant of the dead! The embodiment of war and bloodshed! The one named PARIAH DARK! THE HORRIFIC GHOST KING!!!!"

Immediately, Danny was both completely terrified and amused. He had been worried that they were going to try and summon some great evil demon, not the fucking old tyrant. He could fight Pariah any day of the week.

No, what terrified him was the fact that because Danny won the right to the crown by defeating Pariah the first time, he had no idea what this summoning was going to do. Was it going to work like they wanted and summon Pariah? cool, great even. He can deal with that, might have to reveal his ghost powers if the fight got dirty, but nothing too bad.

or was it going to summon him because he was the king, and if so? how? Would that even work considering he's the sacrifice? would he just disappear and reappear? This could lead to a lot of questions Danny was NOT ready to answer. Gaslighting everyone here into believing he could fight Pariah as a 'meta' human would be easy, convincing everyone that he's not the ghost king or a ghost AFTER getting summoned; not so easy.

The leader released Danny from his grip as he walked over and snatched the tome from one of his followers. Snapping the book open, the man started chanting without warning, pointing at random people to notify them when it was their turn to start.

It was like watching a school play; all the student's doing as they were taught as their teacher directed from the side. Cultist A slammed the bowl of leftover blood on the ground, splattering the black remnants all over Danny and the circle. Which was gross, Danny was going to have to burn this shirt, because there was no way he was going to get this stain out. Cultist B tossed salt at Danny a few minutes later, smacking him in the face with the small white crystals. Shaking his head, Danny glared at him. Cultist B threw the salt again.

The leader's smile grew as he continued chanting.

Seven other cultists joined in the chanting, waving their hands up and down as their voices echoed around them. Danny glanced nervously around the warehouse, hoping he'd spot one of the bats. This was being broadcast, they should be on their way at the very least.

After another minute of looking, Danny glanced back at the other kidnapped victims. Nancy was balling her eyes out, burying herself into her boyfriend's chest. Wyatt was staring at him with wide eyes, clearly unsure about what to do. Probably feeling guilty because they both knew the leader was going to choose him. A few others were looking away, clearly fearing for his life. The rest watched on, trying to show him through their actions that they were there with him till the end. (whether he 'died' or not)

It was weird, but Danny had to give it to them; Gothmites were badass. He doubted anyone in Amity besides his friends would have been brave enough to watch what was happening. Even if they didn't know if he would live or not.

His core crackled, making him choke a little as he finally felt the pull of the summoning. Well, that's just great. Shaking his head, Danny tried to clear his throat. The summoning was making him feel weird and he did not appreciate it.

The chanting got louder as one of the people walked up to him, holding the knife in a white-knuckled grasp. Danny eyed it wearily, glancing between it and the rafters above. Where the hell were the bats when he needed them???

The cultist kneeled before him and raised the blade, slamming it down into his chest right as the leader stopped chanting; Danny gasped, more out of surprise than pain as he stared at the knife. The dude gave him no warning that he was going to stab him. Usually, cultists slit people's throats, right? What the fuck was up with stabbing him???

His blood slowly bubbled up and around the knife, slowly staining his shirt red. Yeah, there was no way in the realms he was going to be able to save this shirt now. Man, he had liked this one too.

He could hear Nancy's sobs turn to wails as the cultist yanked out the knife and handed it to the leader, who Danny just now noticed had joined them in the circle. His blood started gushing down his chest with every beat of his heart, again he held back his core. (what does he do now??? faint? scream? how do normal people react to getting stabbed?????)

"Take this lowly sacrifice as a sign of our eternal loyalty, and grace us with your presence! Your humble servants plead that your godly ears hear our prayers! Join us in this mortal realm and bequeath us your power and name to rectify the sins of our brethren!"

Ok, first of all Danny was no where near lowly you piece of fuck-

Danny's core pulsed, sending out nauseating pain up and down his spine. Gasping, Danny leaned as far forward as he could, trying in vain to grasp at his chest without using his powers. His core crackled, striking a blinding flash through his brain. The echoes of his death crawled up his left arm, waking the old dead nerves into firing signals at his brain.

Danny couldn't help himself, he screamed as the pain grew worse and worse. His thoughts turned hazy, his body cold as his core pulsed again. His heart stuttered and then froze, his core flooding his body with freezing ecto not a moment later. Absently, he could feel the wash of ectoplasm crawl over his body, changing his body minutely. He didn't transform, but he definitely looked more ghostly than human.

All the pain disappeared a moment later, allowing Danny to slump forward, his head hanging low and blocking his face from view. His chest did not rise in ragged breaths, nor did his fingers twitch with life. His mind was still sluggish and clouded with something, making it nearly impossible to think. Squeezing his eyes shut, Danny tried to focus.

"Your Highness?" someone asked, their voice too loud as it rang in Danny's ears. His core pulsed, another flood of ectoplasm flooding his body. His eyes slid open again, allowing him to see the green glow lighting up his chest and lap as he stared down at them.

Slowly, Danny lifted his head, his bright green gaze locking with the man in front of him.

Next?

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hurtspideyparker · 5 months ago

Text

Peter places an envelope on Tony's desk.

Tony looks up confused, "huh? What's that for?"

"It's for you," he points awkwardly at the plain blue envelope, held closed with a Darth Vader sticker.

"It's not my birthday kid." He snaps the protective face shield back down as he picks up his soldering iron, sparks flying as he gets back to work.

"I know that I, uh. It's from, it's for. It's yours. I gotta go, see you later Mr. Stark!" Peter hikes his backpack up tighter as he skips out of the lab.

Tony grunts in acknowledgement without looking up, eyes focused on the searing metal in front of him.

* * *

"Tony? I thought you were gonna have dinner with me after Peter left," Pepper saunters down into the workspace in a flattering pair of jeans and baby blue blouse.

"I was. I am. He left like five minutes ago," Tony waves at her without taking his eyes from the computer he's typing on.

"Happy drove him home two hours ago. Come, have a nice sit down meal with me." Pepper wraps her arms around his shoulders from behind, kissing the top of his head.

"I can have a sit down meal. I'm sitting right now, bring the carbonara down here and it'll be a proper date," Tony replies.

"Yeah, you me and your computer. How romantic. Tony, come upstairs- what's this?"

Tony glances up to see her holding a blue envelope.

"Uh, it's the kids."

Pepper flips it around, "it says To Mr. Stark From Peter on the back."

Tony just shrugs and goes back to typing on his computer.

The delicate glue of the sticker is undone under Pepper's sharp nails as she opens up the envelope and pulls something from inside.

"It's illegal to open someone else's mail y'know," Tony teases.

"Tony this- god you are such an asshole!" Pepper smacks Tony on the back of the head with the envelope.

"Ow! What the- what did I do now! I was just joking about the carbonara thing... mostly."

Tony finally meets Pepper's eyes of scorn. She tosses something in front of him with a huff.

"Tony, he even used a Darth Vader sticker. Do you know how adorably geeky and topical that is? You have got to start paying more attention to the living breathing people in front of you instead of your machines. Dinner is ready, please come upstairs."

Tony watches her leave as the clack of her heels fade away with every step. He's not sure what Darth Vader has to do with missing dinner, but he's quick to get up and start to follow.

He pauses before he makes it out the door, turning to finish the last line of code before he forgets the function. He pushes something off of his keyboard to type and press save.

Tony can't remember the last time he looked up from his work long enough to consume solid food. He's so ready to carb-load with some Italian food, turning away from the computer and blue envelope.

Tony's eyebrows furrow. Hm. Darth Vader sticker.

Tony turns back around and picks up the envelope from beside his keyboard.

This must be what the kid was yapping about earlier. Tony sticks his hand inside and finds a card, pulling it out.

"Father's Day it is," the front says in bold lettering with a picture of Yoda crudely hand-drawn with a sharpie and green highlighter. Tony flips it open, "celebrate you we must" is written in the middle of the page.

Below is a message in smaller writing; "Thank you for everything Mr. Stark, we wouldn't be here without you!" with a blob of sharpie that looks suspiciously like it's scribbled out a small heart, then signed "From Peter, Dum-E and U" each name written in their own unique handwriting.

"Friday, what day is it?"

"It is Sunday June 16th, also celebrated as Father's Day in countries such as the United States, Canada, and the UK."

Hm.

Tony stands there and stares at the card for longer than he'd ever admit before looking up at Dum-E.

"You help with this?" he asks, pointing at the card.

Dum-E chirps happily, twirling his claw around.

"Your hand writing's terrible."

* * *

Peter enters the lab slowly, an unsureness to him that's out of character.

It's Wednesday, his usual day for coming over to Tony's workshop. He hasn't heard anything from Tony since Sunday, not that he usually does. Still, the quietness has unnerved him. He's not sure what he was even expecting from his mentor; silence is probably the nicest response he could hope for after embarrassing himself like that.

"Hi Mr. Stark," he greets once he spots the older man sitting next to a complicated tangle of wires.

"Hey kid, can you go to the computer and run the command I have open for me?"

"Sure thing!" Peter says as he dumps his backpack onto the floor and jogs over.

The two get into an easy rhythm and Peter's practically forgotten why he was nervous in the first place when, "hey grab us some sodas will you," Mr. Stark asks him.

Peter walks up to the fridge in the corner of the room when he notices something new.

In the center of the silver metal lies a single piece of paper, stuck to the refrigerator with a plain magnet seemingly scrapped from some old hardware in the lab.

Tony has his Father's Day card displayed like some dorky parent whose kid got a half-decent report card, showcased on a fridge like a toddler's finger painted masterpiece.

It makes Peter so happy he can't wipe the stupid grin off his face the entire time he's grabbing sodas and delivering one to Tony.

The older hums a thanks without looking away from his project, but as Peter turns away Tony's own face contorts into a pleased smile all of his own.

The two share identical smiles all afternoon, hidden behind soda cans and computer screens.

#happy father's day #irondad and spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #marvel mcu #iron dad #irondad #they're a family ur honour!#btw peter got flowers for both May and Pepper on mothers day because hes a gentleman <3 #spider man #iron man

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l-artemisia-del-secolo · 17 days ago

Text

You've been living a peaceful life for the last 100 years, trying to be off the radar.

You did help Strange a few times from afar, but becoming an active participant? No, you had enough of that.

Your owned ranch, your owned daily routines. You were almost healed from centuries of fighting for your life, ideals and power.

Until one day Strange broke his part of the deal.

"I need your help."

You sighed. He never cared about your garden. Always appearing when you were searching for escape with your flowers.

"No, Stephen. Whatever it is, I don't care. And please levitate. You're leaving traces."

"it's Agatha Harkness."

You looked at him. No emotions. He was waiting for your reaction. But you didn't give him any clues.

"Since when can't you fight a bound witch?"

You turned back to your apple tree. You knew in what state Agatha was. Not a threat, not an opponent. She was too deep in her illusion.

"Everything is going to change soon. There are… Entities who want her free."

"Name me one entity who would want to be betrayed by her."

"I can name you two. The boy."

"One of the twins. " Only the sound of your garden shears was heard.

It wasn't even a question. You already felt it. Stephen wouldn't be here if the reason wasn't so serious.

"And the other one?"

"Your old friend."

"Why don't you do this yourself, Stephen?"

"You know I'm not allowed to interact with her."

___

WestView used to be a charming town. Before the Hex. You could still feel the remains of Wanda's magic. People were still scared, wounds were too fresh.

You quickly found Agatha. She was blissfully living through her illusion. Wanda definitely had style.

You knew Harkness when she was dangerous, now she was weak and vulnerable.

If it was the old you, her neck would snap in a second. But you changed. And she wasn't the one you were searching for.

If Stephen was right you were all fucked.

You followed Agatha to the police station, pawn shop, and her house.

The boy wasn't here yet. You had some time. You built yourself a charming backstory, you pretended to love bad coffee. In a month you were already a citizen of WestView.

What if Stephen was wrong? This happened before. Agatha was protected by her own dreams until the cracks the power of nature itself called for you.

You rushed to your hotel room. You needed protective spells. You were not the only witch in town.

___

Stephen was right. Unfortunately.

Someone knocked on the door, but didn't wait for the answer.

"I thought you could afford a better place."

Stephen was right. You were all fucked.

"I thought you're old enough not to play with food."

Rio laughed at the remark. You almost forgot that sound. You recognized her immediately. Sure the clothes were different, hair, eyes were greener than you remembered.

There was no point in the book you were holding. You started remembering that spells never worked against Rio.

"What are you doing here?" She noticed your gesture of peace. No fight tonight.

"Making sure that you're keeping the monster on the leash."

"oh, it's so much fun not being a monster in this scenario." Rio smiled like a child who finally got her approval.

"It's not about you." You suddenly felt tired. You had this talk before. Each century you were alive.

"It's about you." Rio chose to come closer.

"Is that a holster under your jacket?"

"Yeah, Agatha is in her Swedish crime show period. You like it?"

Rio got rid of her jacket, which simply disappeared in thin air. Brunette always loved theatricality.

"Sure." You were not planning for her to be in your space. You tried to step aside.

"No, no, no." Rio grabbed your hand. "You wanted to talk, let's talk."

You noticed the green light. No doubt her crown was a reminder of her power. Her cosmic power, her power over you.

"Leave the covenless witch alone." You whispered. Oh, but Rio heard every word. She smirked.

"or else?" you could feel her magic all over you.

You formed the fireball in your palm. Light was dancing in Rio's eyes.

"oh, isn't it our favorite foreplay?" witch mimicked your move with her free hand. Green rose appeared. "I missed this."

She let go of you and offered the flower. You took it.

You started remembering. Once it was like this. Every day. You almost forgot why you were here.

"leave Agatha as she is." You still were looking at the flower. It was flawless. Created by nature itself.

"really?" Rio groaned. "if I had known you'd care about her so much I'd lure her into darkness ages ago."

You could hear the hurt in her voice. It wasn't a distraction from her plan. She turned to the door. You flicked your wrist. Thin line of fire appeared around Rio's neck.

"I can't kill you. But I can definitely slow you down."

"till your sorcerer comes?" Rio laughed. She tilted her head and it was enough for you to hit the wall. If she wanted to you'd never get up again.

"Let's have a deal. You give me one date and I give you one more day of bound covenless witch."

___

This idea was so wrong. With Rio you never had courtship per se. The day you met she stayed with you. It was always about the sparks that amplified the worst in both of you.

You needed to know Rio's plan. You needed to win yourself some time.

This time Rio didn't invite herself In. You opened the door. This time it was a bouquet of flowers that never even existed. No doubt, Rio created them only for you.

This time it was a green suit. Always on brand.

Of course she was driving. It was the most human thing you ever saw her doing.

"Where are we going?"

"We'll drink and watch the wolves howl at the full moon."

"There are no wolves here."

"I brought a few with me."

___

"Why did you leave me?" it was her first question after the awkward silence.

You were sitting on the branches that Rio lowered for you. Pack of white wolves was playing in front of you, occasionally asking for attention.

"Is that important?"

"don't mortals talk about their experiences, share feelings?"

"you're not a mortal."

"tonight I am."

You shrugged. You had to play this game.

"I was tired of being… A villain." whiskey was still burning your throat after all these years.

"I never asked you to."

"you never did. But you sure as hell were reminding me every day of who I was. With you I've forgotten the weight of my choices. With you everything was just a game…"

You felt her touch on your skin. Rio guided you towards her. You remembered this. She kissed you like this before. Many moons like this ago.

She was gentle. Always was. You just forgot it.

"You were never a game."

"And you were always thriving on chaos.",

You stood up. Immediately one of the wolves ran towards you. He was friendly, but like with Rio you were not sure he wasn't trained to pretend.

"Why do you need a covenless witch?"

"Is it important right now? It's always about the balance."

"Right. And a few witches you can take for yourself."

Greens started wrapping around your waist and arms. Rio was calling you. Slowly you let them drag you to her. You used to play like this. You used to allow her this.

"Give me another date and you'll get another day."

___

The next day you went to her house. She recreated the garden you once had. With her powers it was so much easier.

"Remember how we used to play with reality?"

"Yes."

Rio remembered every single of your creations. She was attentive to details. You did play with reality. Both of you. You were luring your enemies into scenarios that could never be real. And after that Rio was feasting on them.

"Exactly like now you're playing with Agatha. You always protected your deal with her."

You preferred this Rio more. With the crown, with the flowers in the dress. It was her element.

"She's an effective killer. That's it."

"And what about the boy?"

"And what about your peaceful life?" Rio squeezed grapes and the wine poured in glasses. She offered you one.

"It is expectedly peaceful."

"Sounds boring. Maybe that's why you're here. With me? Missed the fun?"

What did she want to hear from you? You never cared about fun. You missed her. You missed your lover, your partner, your chosen one. You missed your garden. It was never fun. It was always you destroying everyone with fire.

Rio threw her Chalice on the ground. Wine turned into flowers. Again she was too close. She was behind you. She was seducing you with her breath on your neck.

"Rio…" You tried not to give in so easily. "I'm here because…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, the greater good." She was playing with your hair, whispering right into your soul. "It's all about not letting Agatha and the kid get their powers."

Her fingers were studying your heartbeat. She always thought that this curious mortal sound was only for her.

You only inhaled sharply. When you agreed to Stephen's plea you knew all about the risk. But you thought you were stronger than this.

"Let go of me."

When did her fingers travel to your neck? You didn't notice. Your whole body was tingling. Your soul was aching for her. You were alone for so long.

"You don't want this."

Of course you didn't. But Rio had no right to say it out loud.

___

Your third date was an unspoken agreement. You cooked. More for yourself, than for Rio. Old book of recipes reminded you of the hardships of trying to live amongst ordinary people.

"Candles are not lit." Oh, that smug face. Rio always adored seeing your deadly powers in the most boring situations.

Table was between you this time. You hoped it would help. It would give you a chance to win some time.

You tilted your head. Instead of candles - the fireplace became playful. You disobeyed. In a very small detail, but Rio noticed.

This time the silence was longer, heavier. She wasn't eating. she wasn't playing.

"Do you ever miss your mortal family?"

"I do."

"What's it like?"

Rio never respected the concept of privacy. But those were the rules. You had to talk.

"Don't you know? Were you not there when both my husband and daughter died in my arms?"

You stood up for another bottle. Rio followed you to the kitchen.

"Did they… Did they give you what I couldn't?"

"They taught me once again to care about life. Respect the time. They reminded me that you're supposed to exist not only for your own sake."

You didn't admit that you barely remembered their faces. That the pain was almost gone. That for you it was just a fleeting moment. You already didn't remember whether it was real or not.

"Well, I remind everyone exactly this. But with you it's chaos, right?"

You could swear you saw a tear. Was Rio even capable of this? After all the time. all the damage. all the emptiness.

You pulled her closer. You wanted only to remind her that it was never her fault. You desperately wanted to remind her of that. You were clawing deeper and deeper into her. Biting. scratching, kissing whatever skin you could get.

You were tearing the silk. You pushed her against the kitchen aisle. It was always the chaos. But chaos that you wanted and were thriving for.

Now the chaos suddenly wanted to submit. You didn't expect that.

"I missed this." you were murmuring in her ear. You were ready to get on your knees for her. When did your hunger appear again? This time it was different. No burned land, no fallen trees, no skars and marks of struggle.

It was different this time. It took more than a hundred years for Rio to finally feel regret.

You didn't notice how you got into the bedroom. How clothes weren't yours anymore.

She took care of you. Rio always wanted only this.

___

The next day you didn't want to open your eyes. What if Rio wasn't there? Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

"I'm here."

Rio was watching you. She looked tense. She was sitting in the armchair, which now resembled the throne. She pointed to the cup of coffee on your bedside table.

"Charming as usual."

"We don't have much time, baby." And there it was. Your nickname. "Kid is coming tonight. We need to be there."

"Oh, no, no. I'm not letting you…"

"It's about the kid. Not a covenless witch. He needs to come with me. And you will make sure it happens. Isn't this what sorcerers want?"

"Yes."

"Well, then you'll have to join the road. Come baby, we don't have much time." she gave you a peck on the cheek. "It's gonna be like the old times."

You sighed. Yeah, this was going to be an adventure. You simply hoped that this night you saw the real Rio. And after this night you would stay the same.

#marvel self insert #marvel #agatha all along #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal #rio vidal x you

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months ago

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Injured (Alba's Version) IV

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: The aftermath

*TW: parental neglect, aftermath of suicide*

It takes Alexia nearly a week until she realises you're missing.

You're self-sufficient and independent. You've never needed much and it's not weird for Alexia to not see you for days on end.

You come home from whatever you spend your days doing and go straight to your room.

You make your own meals, she's pretty sure because she never has to make extra. Just enough for a family of three. Two when Olga is away from work.

It's a fleeting thing really, the only way that she realises you've disappeared.

She knocks on your door, intent on finally having that conversation about what you're planning on doing with your future.

There's no answer.

"Now's not the time to sulk, y/n," She calls through the door," If you don't come out then I'm coming in!"

Still silence.

"One! Two!"

Alexia doesn't wait for three, shoving open the door.

She expects to see you on your bed, sulking or whatever it is you do when she's not around.

You're not there though.

Your bed is made. Your clothes are packed away.

There's nothing out of place. Nothing to prove that this room was even really yours apart from a few neat stacks of paper on your desk.

Alexa glances over them, frowning as if they'd give her the answer to where you've gone.

She's been home since last night, the first one up and awake in the house. There's no way you could have snuck past her.

"Jaume!" She yells out," Where's your sister?"

"I don't know! Out with friends or something?"

That's odd.

Alexia can't remember the last time you mentioned a friend to her. To be honest, Alexia can't remember the last time the two of you actually had a conversation.

She shuffles through the papers on your desk.

Yes, she thinks, you must be with friends because there's three tickets to a ballet performance on Saturday.

You must be wanting to take them with you.

It's only when Alexia sits up that night, waiting for you to come home, that she gets the sinking feeling you're not coming back.

She waits for hours until the early hours of the next morning and the sun begins to rise before panic lances through her chest.

You've not come home.

She checks her phone, wondering if she missed a text saying you would stay at a friend's house but there's nothing.

She checks your room, just to see if you've climbed in through the windows but they're locked.

You are nowhere.

She pulls Jaume out of school for the day. She calls Olga to come home from Madrid.

She scours all of the places she thinks you hang out but you're nowhere to be seen.

It's almost like you've never existed in the first place.

The call comes in the evening.

It's Alba.

"I can't talk right now," Alexia says after two missed calls," I'm-"

"I'm sorry," Alba says instead.

"What?"

"I'm sorry." Alba chokes her words out like they're so physically painful she can barely say them. Like she's so numb that even talking is difficult. "I tried but..."

"Alba? What's happened? Listen, I really can't talk right now. I'm-"

"I really did try. They did too but it was already too late."

"Alba, what is going on?"

"We should go to the hospital," Alba says," I'll send you which one."

In the deepest pit of her chest, Alexia already knows what has happened. In some deep, dark part of her, she's known since Alba called. In the worst, most hidden piece of herself, Alexia has known since the beginning.

It's an awful thing for an aunt to see.

It's a terrible thing for a brother to see.

It's even worse for a mother to see.

A picture goes up at the ballet company.

(Alexia didn't even know you joined one).

It's of you smiling, the headhsot that they used on the website, displayed proudly in the main foyer.

'Rest In Peace' sits under it and a little plaque with your name and how long you lived. It states your interests with no hint about trains at all. It talks about your reserved disposition but mentions how you endeared yourself to everyone.

Flowers sit under it, bouquets upon bouquets from the dancers and the staff and audience members who have seen you perform.

(Alexia has never been to a performance once).

Support pours in from people Alexia hasn't spoken to in years. Old coaches. Old teammates. Old friends.

Everyone seems to have a fond memory of you but all Alexia can think about is the last words she said to you.

She can't remember them.

She can't remember what she said or how she felt or what she was doing.

There is a gap in her memory from that moment.

Everyone talks about you so fondly, with such clarity that Alexia can't replicate.

You have gone on a wisp of breeze and Alexia is left trying to catch the impossible.

Her mind circles around herself, trying to work out where this all went wrong.

She loved you. She loved you so much.

Her beautiful baby girl who was a little nervous and a little quiet but beautiful all the same.

The little girl who loved trains and ballet and doing all the super feminine stuff that Alexia had to learn when she was a bit older.

The people around her tell stories of you, like Ingrid talking about how you used to love having her braid your hair back but Alexia sits there numb.

She's been numb since she saw your body in the hospital morgue.

She's been numb since the funeral where you lay in your coffin, perfectly peaceful like you were taking a long sleep.

She's been numb since they all returned to Eli's house for food and drink to celebrate your life.

Alba is not talking to her, has not talked to her outside what is needed since she called.

Alexia hasn't even noticed, too preoccupied with the realisation that she's a mother that just had to bury her daughter.

It was not a disease that took you. It was not a heart attack. It was not a random attack on the street.

It was you.

You made this decision, decided that this world was not worth living in anymore. That you could no longer cope with everything happening around you.

Things that Alexia has no knowledge on and, now, will never have any knowledge on.

You thought that this path was better than returning home.

You thought that everything would be better, more peaceful if you took your life away.

People have been cautious around Alexia, seeing just how close she is to tears.

She didn't cry during the funeral when you were lowered down into the ground with nothing but a neat blouse and a skirt.

Nothing to take with you now that you're gone.

Olga had to pack your things away in your room because Alexia could not force herself to even step through the doorway.

Your things are gone.

You are gone.

And Alexia will never know why.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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worriedvision · 3 months ago

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oh my godddddddddddds im backk its 🌙

maybe someting where kinich and the reader are dating and jealous of mualani for something he did to help her that he never does for reader?

Okay so in this idea I've made reader a weapons dealer (why tf can't I remember the name of the profession smh?) and Ajaw gives you some useful advice.

Part of this fic has headcanons not really linked to the character, but more to the fic idea.

Your boyfriend was not the best at keeping his weapon safe - that much that you landed up knowing him through his visits to your stand, asking with a hint of embarrassment added in every time he made yet another visit to your shop for another claymore. Over time, you had grown fond of him, and you asked him out.

Surprisingly, he said yes.

When you hang out, which was rare because of his line of work, you told him more about yourself than he was willing to tell you. At first you thought he was just getting more familiar with you, but after a while you get wary. You had given him a decent discount for weapons - basically free whenever he needed once since you begin dating.

But then you saw how he interacted with her. Mualani.

She effortlessly got him to talk, and you really didn't like the feeling in your chest when you saw them together, and Ajaw seemed bored whenever they were together. Ajaw would get put into time out regularly whenever he said too much, which happened whenever Kinich was being teased about how close he seemed to be to Mualani in comparison to you - his actual partner.

The last time he got put into time out, Ajaw manage dto get to you discretely. No idea how exactly, but you weren't about to ask questions.

"You're better moving on, _." Ajaw states. "You and I both know he's taking advantage of your deal."

"...My deal?" You ask, tilting your head.

You hadn't thought too hard about how often he seemed to visit your shop after you two became a couple, but it made sense how often he visited. He didn't even show shame with it after you both started dating, he seemed to think this was his side of the bargain as opposed to just being Happy about dating you.

"...Are you listening to me?" Ajaw yells, catching your attention. "It looks like you already know what I'm going to say. I'm stuck with Kinich, doesn't mean you have to be!" Ajaw cackles, sunglasses on.

"Thanks, Ajaw." You rub the back of your head awkwardly as you look over at Kinich who has now been hugged by Mualani. He never pushes her away, not did he seem uncomfortable with her hugs, which was the final nail in the coffin as he never wanted to get your affections.

Kinich walks over, pointing towards a Claymore as he asks for a price. When you give him the usual customer price, he shows confusion.

"What?" You ask innocently. "I can't keep giving you discounts when you keep losing merchandise. It costs materials, time and money to make these."

"Fair enough, sorry." Kinich smiles softly, an action you had only seen from him when he had spoken to Mualani. He places the mora on the table, you hand the weapon over, and he doesn't even wave as he leaves.

Mualani waves at you, cheery smile on her face, and you do the most pathetic wave before having to excuse yourself as you realised you fell for a guy that had only wanted you for your weapons at a cheaper price.

You realise that, in Kinich's eyes, you were nothing but a side character.

#gender neutral reader #genshin impact imagines #angst #kinich #kinich x gender neutral reader #kinich x reader #mualani

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0oolookitsme · 4 months ago

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Piece of His Heart

Hii everyone, I'm back from my long hiatus!! Hope you missed me because boy did I miss YOU! <3 This one is a little emotional, a little sweet, and VERY Harry focused. Also, I was inspired to write this piece while listening to 'London's Song' by Matt Hartke, and trust me, it's a lovely song. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Verse - Artist!Harry x Photographer!Y/n

Word Count - 1.0k

Warnings - Mentions of unplanned pregnancy, financial stress.

Harry and Y/n were students, and now, parents to a newborn babygirl as well. With all of the newfound emotions rushing through them, one thing he knew was that they were going to build this new little family slowly, and lovingly.

Harry looked up at the ceiling, at the overused fan moving slowly and creakily, with one of his arms under his head while the other one remained draped over his little baby's back.

She was curled up on top of him, breathing softly, her little hands fisting his shirt.

Daylight was pouring into the room through the gap between the two curtains, and Harry still couldn't believe that the little one sleeping away on his chest was finally here, after a worthwhile wait of a full nine months.

He still remembers the nickname he'd given her while she was still inside her mum's belly – 'Pumpkin' he had called her, and her little frame couldn't have agreed more with him.

Full and round cheeks hung a little low on her face, her small mouth in a pout and eyes as circular as pearls, nothing if not the true meaning of grace.

Which is why he'd settled with the name 'Opal', grinning widely while Y/n had nodded furiously with tears in her eyes, saying how it was the perfect name ever.

His mornings suddenly became impossibly sweeter, something he hadn't expected since he had moved back in this childhood home with Y/n.

A few days ago, when he had laid his eyes on the bundle of sunshine for the very first time ever, a huge piece of his heart, if not his entire heart, had been taken right then and there.

Sighing, Harry got up very carefully, wary of waking up the newborn and then, when he successfully hadn't, laid her on the two person size sofa – all that he could fit in the name of a seat inside his small art studio.

He had just turned to get back to his awaiting Canvas, when Opal began mumbling. She was talking in her sleep, he realised with a smile growing on his face, making his dimples show up.

Another piece of his heart was taken then.

He wondered, each time that she slept, about just what she was dreaming up. On nights, he worried if she wasn't warm enough, wanted her to know that there was a blanket of stars above her – but he knew he could wait until she began talking to do that.

Even though he couldn't afford the best, he was going to make this work. He was going to be the best father out there, give Opal all of his love, all with Y/n by his side.

Putting back down the paintbrush he had picked up because he couldn't stop thinking of her, Harry walked back over with his stool to sit and watch her. He crossed over the chair, his front against the chair's backrest as he rested his face on his arms, gazing down with a soft smile on his mouth.

"I can't wait for you to grow up so that we can talk, you know? So, hopefully, you can tell me if this is where you'll always wanna be," he spoke, brushing away the unruly mop curls on her head.

"And we can go to a place where you look at the light and it splinters," he sighed, moving to cover her up with a blanket. "Where there's plenty of gas in our car to last us the cold, cold winter," tears glazed over his sight, sniffling as he looked at her small figure lull to side as she slept – he almost let slip a chuckle.

Right then, she took whatever pieces were left of his heart.

Winter this year wasn't easy, but that wasn't to say that it wasn't the best one aside from the ones he had spent with Y/n. So much financial stress had come with the unplanned pregnancy, and now a baby. But he knew that the both of them could pull through the loans and make it out as a happy and healthy family, if they stuck together.

Y/n’s dad, a single father, was a little bit bitter about the whole situation but had begrudgingly stepped forward to help out the two with handling the house, seeing as the both of them had to attend college as well as take care of the baby. He dropped off the groceries last weekend, along with the last minute new-born-baby stuff that Y/n had told him they needed.

Even Anne stepped forward, letting the two of them borrow a room in her house for as long as they needed – likely until they could get back up on their own feet financially.

Currently, as Harry sat feeling overwhelmed with all of the love and other emotions rushing through him, he could hear Anne talking to Y/n down the hall. The walls weren’t the thickest and he could tell that Anne was sharing her own stories with Y/n, telling her about how she’d had Harry at a young age, and more.

He’d heard it before, had even seen the two of them having this chat. So he knew that Anne, very likely, had Y/n’s head in her lap and brushing her hands through her hair, trying to console the woman high on hormones and the insurmountable number of emotions she must be feeling.

Wiping away at his nose with the sleeve of his flannel, Harry blinked away the tears and pulled up a smile on his face again, trying to be courageous, for Y/n and their daughter. Because he knew that Y/n was doing the same for them. For the little family they were both going to build slowly and lovingly now.

"But I also want you to be this little forever, so that I can cherish you enough, yes?" He asked her, nodding his head when she mumbled something incoherent, something similar to ‘we’ll be fine, dada', Harry wanted to believe.

And unable to help himself, he picked her up again, holding her flush against his exposed torso because he didn’t have the energy to button up his shirt and the skin to skin contact made breathing a little easier.

"I'll love you tenderly," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "I'll love you forever, and more, little pumpkin."

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awearywritersworld · 10 months ago

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the man who embraced wickedness and the woman he used to know

sukuna x reader summary: sukuna is reunited with the only person who ever showed him kindness w/c: 1.25k tags/warnings: heian era!sukuna. angst to fluff. fem!reader. me trying my best to channel an 1800s romance novelist a/n: part 2 to the boy spurned as evil and the girl of his youth. i am once again asking that people check out the artwork by @demonzaemon that inspired these two fics. they also made some artwork inspired by part one, which makes me scream and cry and yell bc it's so wonderful. masterlist

it isn't until nearly two decades after your last encounter that sukuna finally musters the courage to return to the riverside. as he listens to the rush of the water, he hates the way it makes him feel— like the scared, powerless boy he once was.

he won't get too close. instead he stands at the edge of the forest, as if he can hide from his past among the trees.

he decides he must be dreaming when he spots a woman approaching the river, because even though he can see little more than her silhouette, he has no doubt that it's you.

he'd know you anywhere, in this life and the next.

he has no idea how long he stands watching you before he finally gathers the nerve to take a step in your direction.

you look over your shoulder and meet his eye once he's only a few yards away.

the expression that crosses your features is not unlike the one you wore when you first saw him— an earnest sort of wonder.

"it's you," you state as if you've been waiting on him to appear.

"you... remember me?"

"how could i forget?"

you approach him without fear or apprehension, and having you so close after all this time makes his heart race uncomfortably in his chest.

"are you well?" he questions, his eyes trailing down your body before flicking back up to yours. "you look it."

a smile tugs at the corner of your mouth, your gaze falling to the ground bashfully. you rock on the heels of your feet before answering.

"i am well enough... and what of you?"

he's not sure that he's being entirely truthful when he replies, "i can say the same, i suppose."

"it pleases me to hear that you have not been suffering all this time. i must admit, i find that my thoughts still wander to you with remarkable frequency."

you laugh lightly at your own confession, fearing he may regard you as strange for it. on the other hand, he's thinking about how the sound of your laughter is the most beautiful thing he's heard since... well, since he last heard it.

"it is not rare for you to occupy the space of my own mind," he returns honestly.

you grab one of his hands, turning his palm up and running your thumb over the faint scar you find there. he hates the way it makes your face fall.

"i am sorry about that night, for what my father did to you. it was my fault for falling asleep—"

"don't," he stops you. "the fault lies only with me. i shouldn't have let him steal you away. i shouldn't have been so utterly weak—"

it's your turn to interrupt him and you press the pads of your fingers to his mouth to keep him from saying anything more.

"that is the farthest thing from the truth. you didn't deserve that. you deserved not one bit of the cruelty the village mercilessly showed you. you were only a boy, sukuna."

when your fingers fall from his lips, he doesn't try to speak. he doesn't trust that his voice won't betray him.

he can't remember the last time he heard his name spoken so familiarly, so warmly. it makes his throat feel tight.

the silence gives you an opportunity to take in the ways in which he's changed over the years.

his kimono and haori are pristine, a far cry from the rags he used to wear.

his frame is more than double the size of your own, and you know he's no longer living on scraps.

he stands tall, his posture straight and self assured, not that of someone who is feeble and frightened.

but you're not referring to any of those things when you point out, "you're different now."

and of course you're right, he just doesn't know how to tell you that the boy you used to spend your days with is gone. that the blood on his hands is no longer his own. that the person standing before you is nothing more than the monster the villagers always claimed him to be.

so he just nods in agreement and your eyes sparkle as you regard him with curiosity.

"i loved you, you know," you tell him sincerely.

your confession is painful to hear, because it reminds him of everything he lost that night.

"i could love you now, too." you reach up and caress his cheek, trying desperately to read the expression he's wearing. "if you'll let me."

for a moment, you think he might agree to your offer, but your hope is short lived.

"this... this was a mistake."

he turns to leave, intending to retreat to the shadows of the forest, but a small hand wraps around his wrist.

"no." your tone is forceful.

if only you knew what happens to most people who dare speak that word in his presence.

he doesn't say anything, so you add, "the only mistake you've made is waiting so long to come back to me."

he's surprised upon seeing the frustrated tears that well up in your eyes.

"we are but strangers to one another." his reminder stings and it shows plainly on your face. "and that is for the best, i assure you. you don't want to know me— to know the things i've done."

"i care not what you've done!" your voice is so loud, it sends a flock of birds fleeing from a nearby tree. "i care not what horrors loneliness may have driven you toward, because when we belonged to one another you were good. you were kind. you were—"

"stop." each of your words is like a knife in his chest, and his voice cracks from the ache of it.

"i will not! if your only intention was to reject me, why come here at all?"

"i don't know—"

"precisely! you want me, just as i want you. my devotion is yours, sukuna! there is no reason for you to reject that which i willingly give—"

"enough!" he barks at you, grabbing you roughly by the shoulders. you don't shy away from him, even in spite of the way his fingers dig into your flesh and his nose flares angrily.

"you believe that because you showed me a sliver of kindness when we were children that i should throw myself at your feet? your devotion means nothing to me! it does little more than inspire my disgust!"

the words taste like poison on his tongue, but he needs you to believe them.

he needs to believe them himself.

he pushes you away, and while it's not harshly enough to send your body flying to the grass, it does make you stumble backwards.

ire burns in your eyes and he thinks he's succeeded in his endeavor, but once he turns to leave, you're grabbing his wrist again and launching yourself against him.

your hands find his face and you pull his lips to yours despairingly. your bodies move together as if you've spent a lifetime in one another's arms.

then, he's pulling away from you. he's calling you a pathetic fool. he's looking at you with animosity.

but just as quickly, his lips find yours again and he grabs at the fabric of your kimono in an attempt to bring your body closer to his own.

you swear his hands tremble as they find a home on the curve of your hips.

once your lips part, he holds your gaze for what feels like an eternity.

resignation seems to dance across his features, but there's something else there too. desire? hope? longing?

you really can't say for certain.

"i am yours, and you are mine."

you're not sure if it's a question or a statement, so you offer him a slight nod of your head. "today and always."

#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk fluff

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nappingmoon · 5 months ago

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ex!sukuna x reader - nsfw

wc: 3.1k

you get stuck on the side of the road with no gas and the only one who comes to your rescue is your ex sukuna <3

this can't be fucking real. your car sputters as you pull onto the side of the road before it comes to a halt. your roommate had borrowed your car earlier and returned it with just enough time to drive to your date on time. she didn't tell you, however, that the tank was nearly empty, and you had to ignore the small light that went on as you neared the small bar, not wanting to be rude and arrive late.

the date was alright, and at least he asked you a question or two instead of droning on and on alone for an hour and a half like your last date did. he was handsome and seemed kind enough that you could see him making a great boyfriend for someone else, but there was an unfortunate lack of chemistry between the two of you. there was a promise to talk again soon– one that would surely be broken-- and then you found yourself on your way. driving always gave you time to think and apparently, all the thinking drowned out any warning signs that the car tried to send you before giving out.

you try your roommate first, calling her with the hopes that she's with her boyfriend and he'd be willing to drive to you and at least get you to a gas station. the blaring music in the background of the call gives you an idea of what they're up to and when she turns the camera to her boyfriend with a funnel in his mouth, you cross them off the list.

next you try your date, crossing your fingers that he's still in the area. it goes straight to voicemail. you call again, maybe it was just bad connection or something. voicemail again. "dickhead" you mutter.

your only other friend who would be willing to come pick you up without holding the favor over your head works always works a double on saturdays. you know she'd come pick you up in a heartbeat, but she needs her rest and you decide against calling.

and so you come upon your last option. you and sukuna broke up two months ago and you hadn't seen him since. it was a stupid spat- you don't even remember what the source of the problem was but at some point you just started insulting each other like fucking middle school children. he called you an overbearing bitch, you called him a jealous dickhead who couldn't get over his mommy and daddy issues. things just got away from the two of you and neither of you called to mend things. about a month ago, you just assumed you were now single and when your roommate made you a profile on a stupid dating app, you didn't delete it right away.

and so, here you are now. an empty tank, with no one except him to call. you wince as you type his number in and his contact name appears as scumbag. deciding that calling him is a better option than staying alone in a car on the side of the road all night, you close your eyes and tap the green call icon. it rings once.

"hello?" his voice is gruff and the one word squeezes your heart, making you remember how much you actually miss him, despite hating him sometimes too.

"hi sukuna, i'm sorry to bother. is this a bad time?" you hear voices in the background, he might be at a friend's. even as you ask that, you know he'd drop everything if he knew you were in need.

"what's up princess? you need something?" he uses your old nickname and the heartstrings tug even more. he ignores your question and you know that you were right.

"well, it's not an emergency, but, i ran out of gas and-" you start but don't get to finish your sentence.

"send me your location." is all he says before he hangs up.

you send it. you still had his from when you were dating, but you had stopped sharing yours a week after the argument. you knew he was liable to show up at a club if he knew you were there and didn't want to give him the satisfaction of being able to do that. you were free to do as you please. the map said that he was 22 minutes away.

within 15 minutes, you see a pair of headlights slow. you get out of your car, ready to scold him for speeding but eager to see him again, even if the last time you saw him was on bad terms. confusion enters you, though, when you see an unfamiliar car. out comes a man that you don’t recognize. “hello sweetcheeks,” says the man, walking towards you and grinning far too much for your liking. “you get lost or something?”

you head back towards your car reaching in to grab your phone but never taking your eyes off the man. “no, I’m not. I am waiting for a friend.” you try to keep your voice assertive and steady but it is difficult when this creep keeps coming towards you. you click sukuna’s contact and send him a text, ‘creepy guy here, please come quick.’

“can i wait with ya? you look like you could use a friend and I am great company.” he says, getting too close to the car and too close to you. he responds to your ‘no, thank you.’ with a “aw come on, i’m not gonna do anything to ya. why don’t you want to hang out with me? don’t be a bitch.”

“sir, i’m really gonna need you to back up right now please.” you’re cornered into your car door and you curse yourself for forgetting to replace the pepper spray on your keychain. your heart seems to be beating through your chest but you can see headlights to a much bigger car turning onto the road over the man’s shoulder. sukuna’s truck roars closer and you could almost cry in gratitude. the man in front of you doesn’t seem to notice the lights nor the man bounding towards the two of you. just as he goes to reach your hand, sukuna grabs the man’s shoulder and pulls him away from you, bending his arm behind his back so far you are sure it’s going to snap at any moment.

“listen here you degenerate piece of lowlife scum. the only reason you have your face still intact is because i’m on fucking probation and I don’t need to go to jail over some fucking incel who can’t take no for an answer. now you’re going to walk back to your car and drive on the fuck home and if i ever catch you around here creeping again, you won’t have enough limbs or teeth to try it a third time. got it?” the man nods and whimpers as sukuna releases his arm, running over to his car and speeding off.

sukuna turns to you to ask you if you’re alright but lets out a small ‘umph’ in surprise when you run into his chest and wrap your arms around him. he places a hand on your head and rubs it back and forth, muttering a “yeah, yeah” as you thank him over and over. he grabs your chin to tilt your head up to him and looks into your glassy eyes as he asks “you alright, princess?”

you nod, but don’t unwrap your arms from his torso– refusing to release your lifeline. you burrow your head into his chest again, needing a moment to ground yourself before returning to reality. he huffs, but squeezes you tight, rubbing his thumb on your shoulder. you stand like that for a minute or two before he pushes you back. “come on, let's fix your car and get you warmed up. it’s cold out here.” then he takes a look at your outfit. “hold on, where the fuck were you?”

your cheeks warm, remembering that you really tried to look cute for this date. you paired a cute slip dress with a cardigan and some short strappy heels. an outfit wasted on a man who showed up in shorts and a graphic tee but you suppose sukuna seeing you in it is at least a plus. “just a bar.” you say, while looking to the side.

he grabs your chin and brings your eyes back to him, a favorite move of his apparently, and scans your face. “you were with a guy, huh? what the fuck? are you cheating on me?” he asks incredulously.

“what? you haven’t talked to me in two months. I thought we broke up!” you reply, equally confused.

“I thought you were doing your fucking ‘healing’ or whatever the fuck you girls do! I gave you space because i was trying to be mature and let you calm down.”

“who lets someone calm down for two months? you didn’t think to call me and ask? what is wrong with you?”

“you! you are fucking wrong with me. whenever it comes to you its like all fucking reasonable thought goes out the window! how the fuck was I supposed to know it was okay to reach out? and, what, we don’t talk for a little and you think it’s okay to go talk to other guys? you’re mine, don’t you remember that? or did our dry spell fuck with your head? did you think you could get over me by dressing up for some loser and getting mediocre dick?”

yes. “no! it wasn’t like that kuna. I just, i don’t know. you were so mean and then you didn’t reach out and i thought that was it between us. I thought i needed to move on.”

he bends over so that you are eye level with each other. “there’s no fucking ‘moving on’ baby. you’re stuck with me forever.”

upon hearing those words, it’s like all the sentiment from before truly comes flooding back into you. your body seems to move on its own, surprising the both of you when you close the gap between your lips. his fist finds its way into your hair and the other grabs your waist, pulling you closer. these months were the longest you have gone without sex and you didn’t know how much you had missed it until you were back in sukunas hands with his tongue in your mouth. he moves his knee between your thighs as much as your dress will let him. the friction isn’t enough and you whine and squirm in his arms. “aw, is my baby all needy? do you need more?” he teases, the words leaving his mouth and meeting yours.

you drag your hands down his back and then slip them under his shirt to roam around his abs. fuck, you’ve missed this. “please, please kuna, need more.”

sukuna growls and pulls you back, closing the door to the driver’s seat and opening the door to the back row. he tugs your arm and maneuvers you like a doll until you’re laid across your back seats. sukuna kneels on the floor outside the car and tugs your hips to the edge of the outermost seat before hiking up your dress to your waist. he growls when he realizes you aren’t wearing panties. “are you fucking kidding me? you had this pretty pussy ready and open on a first date? like some slut?”

he bites the inside of your thigh and you cry out “no, ryo, the lines just ruin the dress. I promise.” he’s looking up at your frown and your watery eyes and you look so sincere and so adorable and he can’t take it anymore. he sticks his head into your heat, lapping at you like he hasn’t had a meal since the last time you saw him.

“fuck, baby. I’ve missed your taste so much. his fingers dig into your hips, keeping you in place as your back arches and your head digs into the seat. you can’t stop your squirming as sukuna sucks at your clit and your hands claw at your sides and the seat in search of something to grasp. sukuna grips your left leg and adjusts it so that it lays over his right shoulder. he brings your hand into his hair before dipping to play with your clit, his head lowering to kiss and swirl his tongue all around your pussy. with his other hand, he intertwines his fingers with yours, not even needing to look up to find your hand. of course he doesn’t look away– he’s entirely focused on using his tongue to make you forget anyone but him exists. he uses the palm of the hand that’s intertwined with yours to press on your tummy, making you see stars.

“fuck, ryomen, i’m gonna cum. please pleasepleasepleaseplease” your words blend together as the pleasure gets to your head. the fingers over your clit have found a deadly rhythm and when paired with his tongue that pushes in and out of you, you truly don’t stand a chance. he lets out small words that you can’t hear but the vibrations are enough to send you over the edge, crying out and squeezing your thighs around him like a vice. as you come down from your high you let sukuna move you up, making space for him to get into the car and close the door behind him.

you’re dazed as you watch him unbuckle his belt and pull the waistband of his boxers down. His dick slaps his abdomen, hard and pulsing. he fists himself as he licks his lips, smirking. “delicious as always princess. now are you gonna let me in?” and you don’t think you could nod faster. you’re almost positive that there are hearts in your eyes as you watch him line himself up with you, fingers playing with your clit a little before spreading you for his tip. he rolls his hips forwards just enough so the tip catches and the stretch is already dizzyingly good. he curses, “holy fuck, did you not touch yourself at all while you were alone?”

“I did, my fingers just weren’t enough.” you whine, and the image of you in bed horny and frustrated because your little fingers weren’t hitting all the spots that he could makes him impossibly harder.

“fuck, baby, I didn’t just ruin you for any other guy, I ruined you for yourself too, huh? nothing else will do for this pretty pussy but my cock or my fingers or my mouth. what a spoiled little cunt you have.” he laughs. you have had enough of his teasing and try to roll your hips to get more in. “alright alright I get it. easy baby, easy. by the way, what did you have for dinner tonight?”

confused, you reply “chicken francaise, wh–” but you don’t get to finish your sentence, interrupted by sukuna fully thrusting into you. you gasp, the sting of your walls stretching to accommodate him intense even after cumming once already.

“I figured a distraction might help you relax a little better but holy fuck you’re tighter than I could have imagined. you really must have barely touched yourself while I was gone. don’t worry, this pussy won’t get neglected again.” he says, and rolls his hips again. sweat drips down your forehead as he leans over to kiss you, working his hips into yours in a delicious rhythm. as soon as you notice that his thumb has started rubbing your clit, he bites your bottom lip and the pain and pleasure mix into a mind numbing, all encompassing haze. he brings his other hand to pinch your nipple and it is enough to send you over the edge again.

being the man that he is, however, he does not let you catch a break before flipping you over to be on your hands and knees. you’re crouched and you’re sweaty and it’s hot as he slides against you but nothing has been more erotic and you find that you love it. he’s merciless now, hips snapping into yours as he chases his own pleasure. there’s just one thing he can’t get out of his mind. “did you like having your fun? was going out with those losers everything you had hoped for and more?” he spits the words into your ear, the smack of his hips getting rougher and rougher as he speaks.

it’s all you can do to turn your head and whine out “n-no! only wanted you ryo, hated going out with other guys.” you pout just remembering it. “please make me forget about them. I only ever want you.” the request is enough to send him into overdrive, and he sticks his fingers into your mouth to shut you up, knowing that he was going to be seconds away from coming if you uttered another word. you moan at the taste of yourself and at the feeling of him so deep inside you. you suck his fingers clean running your tongue across his digits. some of the spit escapes and drips down the side of your mouth and the sukuna goes wild at the debauchery of it all.

“fuck, fuck fuck fuck i’m gonna cum, where do you want it princess?” he groans, hips stuttering as he tries to hold his release back.

there is, of course, only one right answer. “inside!” you keen, pushing your hips back to try to give him nowhere to escape to.

“dirty fucking girl.” he snarls. “I’ll give you my cum– don’t worry princess, it’s all yours.” he says before groaning and stilling inside you. you feel the warmth fill you and grin, knowing that it is where it’s supposed to be. he turns your head and kisses you with fervor before pulling you back and sitting you on his lap. you lay your head on his chest, catching your breath and basking in the feeling of being in his arms once again.

...

“so, are you really on probation?” you ask, rubbing your thumb in circles over one of the tattoos on his chest.

“yeah, I told you, i go crazy when it comes to you. after our argument i went out and got into a fight with the first person who was stupid enough to respond to my antagonizing. got caught kicking the shit out of him because I was so in my head. don’t fucking leave me again, I don’t think i’d survive the next one. well, i might, but the next guy I fight probably wouldn’t.”

#.sukuna #afterhours #i dont know if this is good i am not proofreading it is 4:45 am #it's above me now #ecriture #sukuna x reader

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00ops1e · 1 year ago

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simon riley and fatherhood

When Simon came home from a deployment to find you, his sweet Mrs. Riley, about a month pregnant- he panicked.

He had never given much thought to children. To be frank, there simply was too much on his mind to even consider the possibility. Given his profession and upbringing, he always assumed parenthood just wasn’t for him.

He knew you've always had a secret longing for a baby, keeping it to yourself out of respect for him and his sanity.

So, after the initial shock wore off, he couldn’t deny his excitement. Your giddiness certainly rubbed off on him. He acted a bit nonchalant, but you knew him better than that.

You knew for sure there was nothing to worry about when you caught a glimpse at the open tabs on his computer, pregnancy blogs, lists and lists of names and ideas and tips

The way he obsessively worked on the nursery was a big tell too, having taken time off to enjoy this privilege that he was lucky enough to share with you.

If he hadn’t initially panicked, he definitely started losing sleep when you found out it was a girl that you were having

Now, we all know and love Simon as a girl dad, but before he grows into the role, he’s a mess.

He’s terribly worried he won't be a good dad to her, that she won't be able to connect with him and somehow without that connection, he’d turn into his father.

For Christ’s sake Tommy was never able to give him a niece to prepare:(

Watching you nest, so excited for the arrival of your little girl, (along with a TON of late-night reassurance) He slowly let his worries slip away to enjoy the last couple of months with just the two of you.

If there was any anxieties left, they melted away from him the moment he held your daughter for the first time.

Half sitting on the hospital bed, pressed against you. His arms under yours, supporting your exhausted limbs. The limbs currently cradling your beautiful newborn.

He tears up while taking in the image of his girls, committing it to memory.

On those nights when it seems like sleep is the farthest thing from his daughter’s little mind, he stays up to soothe her.

Not so much because he’d rather you be able to sleep, more because he's completely infatuated with the way those little fingers wrapped around his one, the way babygirl seemed to relax when he spoke.

Simon walks up and down the length of the hall slowly, gently swaying with babygirl in his arms. There's definitely a visible trail formed by the heavy man’s constant, slow pacing.

When you wake up and find him not next to you, you rise and peek out the cracked bedroom door. Simon is lounging in the rocker, humming softly to babygirl. Talking to her as if she can comprehend his words. He is smitten.

To quote some comedian whose name I can't remember, he would take a bullet for you, but goddamn he’d use you as a human shield for this little life bundled in his arms. The love he has for the both of you scares him. He's completely whipped.

Babygirl got your eyes, and lord knows he can't say no to you. This child will be the death of him.

this was supposed to be shorter but gd it was too heartwarming to stop. but moving on, HI GUYS LONG TIME NO SEE! sorry im morbidly depressed. anyway there will be a part two of this because its rotting my brain and i wanna take a look at when babygirl is older!!!! let me know what everyone's thoughts are please!

#simon ghost riley #cod #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley fluff #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #cod fluff #ghost headcanons

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sincerelyneo · 8 months ago

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mark doesn't know | n.jm

“but she’s under me and i’m not stopping”

💿now playing: scotty doesn’t know by lustra

❯ summary: You don’t even remember how it started, but Jaemin does. He’s wanted to get his hands on you the minute he met you — and he’d be damned if he let something as silly as his friend get in the way of the thing he really wants. So alas, you’ve been fucking your boyfriend’s friend for the last two months.

❯ pairings: jaemin x fem!reader (brief mark x reader)

❯ genre: boyfriend’s friend! jaemin, smut, light angst, college!au.

❯ words: 3.1k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, cheating (boo), unprotected sex (don’t do this!), dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, light chocking, hair pulling, begging, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader cheats on mark with jaemin.

You don’t even remember the first time it happened; or more so, how it happened.

"J-Jaem we really shouldn't be doing this,” you huff out as your boyfriend’s good friend sucks on the skin against your neck, right below your ear.

His breath is hot, and his touch feels melting.

"You say that every time, and yet, look where you are. Back with me again.”

Your next words are cut off by the feeling of Jaemin’s lips pressing against yours. You want to give in, but something's on your mind this time — guilt.

Pushing him back, you try to move from the wall, but he keeps you there. "We can't, not again. Mark’s on his way-"

He covers your mouth with his hand. He fucking hates when you bring him up. He fucking hates that his friend is the one that gets to have you on his arm. And he certainly fucking hates the fact that he had been the one to introduce the two of you in the first place.

You were Jaemin’s lab partner before you even knew of Mark’s name. One night when you were over at Jaemin’s house for an assignment, Mark just so happened to turn up. If Jaemin had it his own way, he would have never even planned to introduce you to his older friend — but he was the one who told you to answer the door that night.

And God did he fucking regret it.

The memory of you answering the door with an immediate blush and flutter of your eyelashes at Mark’s presence played on his mind every time he saw the two of you together.

You never looked at him like that — well at least not back then anyway.

In Jaemin’s mind, he had made it very clear that he had a thing for you. He’d made it obvious, hadn’t he?

Well, that’s what he thought. So, when news hit that you were fucking the older boy and going on dates with him; it was safe to say that Jaemin was beyond pissed.

And when you were the one to kiss Jaemin one late night of studying — he seized the opportunity because he’d be damned before he lost his shot with you again. And thus, the two of you fucked every Thursday night’s study session.

"Don't. Don't say his name,” he growls, low and nasally enough to have your stomach fluttering. “Now, nod your head if you're gonna stop worrying and listen to me.”

You nod your head almost instantly with wide eyes. You couldn’t help the way your pussy grows even more slick, threatening to pool in your underwear, at his dominant demands.

"Good girl,” he says when you obey him, finally removing his hand from your mouth.

He sinks to his knees in front of you, pushing the few dishevelled stands of his hair out of his face to look up at you.

“I’m gonna give you something else to think about." He spreads your legs apart, snaking his hand delicately around your thighs to reach under your dress and tease the waistline of your panties.

You wordlessly look down at him. And although you're not saying no it’s not enough for him.

"Tell me gorgeous, can I have you for tonight, again?" His voice seems deeper and his tone thicker, eyes searching yours for confirmation.

You close your eyes as he starts to drag the lace down your thighs, "I need words, Y/N. Can I have a taste?"

"Yes." You sigh out.

"Yes, who?"

"Yes Jaemin.”

He has you lift up your feet, one at a time, so that he can remove your panties completley. Your eyes shoot open just in time to see him stuff them in his back pocket. Your body starts to throb at the sight — the sight of him being so smitten for you.

He grabs one of your legs, hoisting it up so that it's over his shoulder, exposing your bare core to him. Jaemin wasn’t a man of withstanding, so he wastes no time working his tongue the only way he knows best — the way you like it.

He starts by licking a long stripe up your wet cunt, groaning at the taste. The sound sends ripples against your clit, making your body jolt forward further on his tongue.

"Can't believe you wanted to deny me of this,” he mumbles, shaking his head.

He suctions his mouth on your clit, making your breath hitch in your throat. You're biting down on your lip, hard enough to draw blood, as he starts sucking and pulling on the bud. You're certain your legs would have given out immediately had he not offered his shoulder as support.

"Sorry, m'sorry.", you moan, hands coming to grip his hair but he stops you.

"I didn't say you could touch me yet,” he smirks up at you.

He continues licking your clit until he reaches his hand down to your cunt to join his tongue. He watches your eyes shut in pleasure; the way your hands are clenching into fists, resisting the urge to touch him, wanting to try your best to follow his orders.

The pads of his fingers go to your swollen nerves, starting to apply pressure with slow torturous circles and your head slumps back against the wall, mouth hung open as a deep moan floats out of you. He lets two of his fingers dip down to your hole, teasing you a bit before sinking them in with no resistance.

You know you’re not going to last, and you’re too out of your mind to even feel slightly embarrassed about it. You could get down on both knees right now and praise god for those fingers of his.

"I've missed how you feel against my fingers baby, couldn't forget it, soaking wet for me just like last time,” he says, looking up at you with thick lashes.

It has your skin tingling, and your heart thumping against your chest; so hard that it's rippling down to the throb between your legs that only worsens as he continues pushing.

"Can feel you clenching on my fingers,” he further teases, voice like gravel as he continues to watch you in amazement. "But I bet you wish it wasn't just my fingers, hm?"

You bite your lip to stop a moan, but then Jaemin stops the movement of his fingers, pulling a whine from you.

"Answer me baby. You want my cock in this tight little cunt, don't you?"

You can practically feel him smile when he nuzzles his face into your thigh, watching you struggle to respond.

"Jaemin please just-", you choke on your words when he begins to finger you again.

"Just what? Use your words, Y/N."

"Want you to fuck me, please, stop teasing me,” you whine frustratedly.

"Y'know I just love to hear you beg. Gonna fuck you, promise, but I want you to cum on my fingers first,” his fingers begin to pick up pace, curling to hit the spongy spot inside to which you cry out.

Your teeth clamp down on your lip again as you circle your hips against his hand mindlessly, earning hiss after hiss from him.

"Yeah? Gonna make a mess of my fingers? Be my good girl?"

You can only moan in response, your mouth dropping open with small pants coming out. You start clinging to his shoulders, trying to stay upright. The sensation of your muscles contracting, with each thrust of his fingers and the heel of his palm rubbing against your aching spot, has your legs trembling.

"So close, Jaem, I’m so close. Let me cum."

Jaemin looks up, nodding against you in a silent confirmation that you can — and you swear you see stars. You can feel your walls deep inside cracking as he starts sending shockwaves through your body. Jaemin even has to hold you up as your leg almost collapses and your hold on his shoulder tightens.

He continues to soothe and flick over your clit even after you come down from your high, and you're too weak to push him away.

"Jaem- baby I'm sensitive,” you tell him and he finally draws back, grinning up at you with a sly smile.

He sets your leg down, getting up from his knees to stand right in front of you, his hands cradling your face as he kisses you.

It’s sloppy and harsh, like he needs this or he’ll die, like he doesn’t want you escaping him, ever. You can taste yourself on his tongue and you groan into the kiss, your hands fisting the bottom of his shirt.

"More- I need more,” you mumble against his lips before kissing him again.

Jaemin brings his hands from your face, to the back of your neck, using all the power he has to —somewhat— forcefully pull you away from him.

"You know how this works. You gotta tell me more than that," his voice is just above a whisper, a sadistic smirk on his face as he watches your eyes struggle to leave his lips.

"What do you want more of, hm? More of my mouth?" You shake your head no, and Jaemin pretends to sigh. He tightens his grip on your neck, making you look him in the eye. "If you can't use your words, I can't help you."

Jaemin knows exactly what you want and how you want it. But he can’t help but love seeing you get all needy and frustrated. It’s his own personal reminder of how much you need him — or better yet — how much Mark isn’t satisfying you. Knowing he gives you something Mark can’t, never fails to make his cock ache.

"I want you to fuck me,” you finally say, voice barely audible.

"I couldn't hear you. Repeat that for me?” He taunts and it makes you want to stomp your foot in frustration.

"Stop teasing me, please. I need you to fuck me.”

Jaemin grins at this, wasting no time in releasing your neck so that he can pick you up and carry you to your bed — Mark’s bed.

You let out a small squeal, swatting at him to put you down. You hated the way he was always picking you up, but for him, having you wrap around his waist was his way of being as close as possible to you. He tosses you down on the bed, making you look up at him with a glare.

"Be careful dumbass."

He raises an eyebrow, lips quirking up into that stupid smirk once again. "You've got quite the mouth all of a sudden."

Jaemin kneels down on the bed in front of you, parting your legs so that he can be in between them.

"Just a few minutes ago it was ‘oh Jaem I’m gonna cum, don't stop please,” he mocks with a small laugh, causing you to bring your hands up to hide yourself.

Jaemin stops you though, pinning your hands down beside your head. "Oh none of that. Where'd my bratty girl go, huh?"

The way that he barely has to use any of his strength to pin you down, plus his large and muscular frame boxing you in, has you practically drooling.

He inches his face closer to yours, tricking you into thinking he's going to kiss you, but just as your lips graze his he turns to the side, making you kiss his cheek instead.

"Jaemin," you whine.

"Sorry sorry, you just looked so desperate for it, I couldn't resist,” Jaemin knows the effect his words have on you because your hips are bucking up into the air as the throbbing returns to your core.

"Want a proper kiss?" he asks, and you nod, staring up at him with pleading eyes. "Yeah? Beg."

It's a simple command that usually would have had you scoffing, telling Jaemin to get over himself and stop teasing, but you're so needy for his touch that you give in.

"Jaemin", you whine again — and oh does he love the way you say his name. "Baby please, kiss me, I- I need it."

He knows that you can beg better than that, he's heard you do it plenty of times, but he takes mercy on you, partially because his own need is screaming just as loud as yours is. He lets his lips connect with yours and wastes no time ravishing your mouth.

He growls into the kiss, bringing one of his hands to curl around your throat, adding a little pressure as his tongue explores your mouth like he's never kissed it before.

You two are a desperate mess now, as you start to work with each other until you’re both fully undressed. Breathy pants and soft moans fill the silence in the room.

Jaemin’s towering over you, his knees poking in between your legs to probe them wider for him. You don’t resist, you don’t want to. One of his hands reaches down to fist the throbbing cock between his own legs as he rubs himself teasingly between your seeping folds.

"Condom?" You ask, trying to think as clearly as possible.

Jaemin looks almost offended that you've asked, scoffing as he positions his tip at your entrance.

"Since when have we ever used condoms?"

"We haven’t. I just thought you might want to-"

You're cut off by a gasp as he begins to push into you, the familiar delicious stretch and slight burn settling in. You hear Jaemin swear under his breath, as his hips flush right against yours.

"You just thought what?" he asks as his head dips down, nosing along your jawline before peppering wet kisses along your neck.

"I- uh,” you stutter, losing your train of thought from the feeling of him inside you; so deep and hard and rough.

You bite down on your lip. You only ever have Jaemin like this; and you can't explain the overwhelming feeling you get whenever you get to have him with no barriers, getting to be as close to him as possible — even if you didn’t deserve it.

"It's because of him right? You're worried that he'll have to feel my cum deep in this pretty pussy of yours, aren't you?"

And although his tone is somewhat playful, there's a bite to it. You know how Jaemin feels about having to sneak around; knew all about how he wishes you were his and his only.

He doesn't allow you to respond though, knowing that's a conversation you'll have to have at a different time. Instead, his hips slowly begin to rut against yours, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan.

"Fuck fuck fuck,” Jaemin groans against your ear.

Your hands are clawing at his back as his thrusts pick up pace. And as much as he loves you doing that, marking him as yours in your own special way, he redirects your hands to his hair. You immediately begin to tug at his locks, loving the way it feels between your fingers.

He speeds up his pace. The sharp sting radiating through you, mixed with the sensation of his centre grinding against your own. His movements cause a crippling to all of your senses and creates an unbearable, but familiar, throb in the pit of your belly.

Jaemin is a mess of pants and grunts on top of you, mixed with the low moans that rumble inside of him when he circles his hips harder against you.

"I'd drag this out all night if I could, but my cock is aching for you," he grits through his teeth, snapping his hips against you one last time before pulling away.

He wets his lips, darting his eyes to yours before snapping his mouth from your neck to lean down and press an affectionate kiss against you. Both of you are inhaling sharply into the kiss when you feel him hit his cock in the deepest places, collecting the arousal there.

Your parted lips hover against each other, shallow breaths mixing together as he pulls out of you, and you whine. He starts slowly circling around your entrance like he's teasing himself as well as you.

You gasp, when he inches forward again, going at a tortuously slow place. He had you so slick with excitement as always there's no resistance at all.

His eyes squeeze closed as his jaw goes slack, letting out the most erotic moans. You can feel your muscles stretching out to accommodate him and it feels euphoric.

You wrap your legs around him tighter, needing to be closer, as he continues to draw his hips back and forth in fast powerful strokes, switching between kissing you harshly and whispering dirty nothings into the air between you.

You grip your fingers tighter on his hair, moving your lips to go to his neck, kissing and sucking on the skin, feeling his pulse thump harder as you do.

He hisses, clenching his teeth as his hand takes hold of your hip, digging his fingers in while his hips jolt forward, "Shit, if you keep doing that I'm not going to last.”

How needy and desperate he sounds spurs a fire in you, moaning against his skin as you push your hips back against him.

“Then don't last, I won't either, I just need you.”

You nip and suck at the heated skin on his neck, swirling your hips against him to spur him on, and he lets out a frustrated growl before he angles your hips up and draws back, snapping forward roughly. It makes your head roll back as you arch into him when he repeats the action again.

"Is this what you needed baby?" he grits, his jaw tenses as he thrusts into you abruptly. "Wanted me to fuck into you harder? Wanted someone to fuck you properly? Wanted me to show you just how much better you feel clenched around me?"

You can't answer, only managing to gasp out short, strained moans in rhythm with his thrusts as he drives into you in sharp, deliberate motions, filling and hitting all of the places inside you that only he can.

The noises leaving Jaemin are borderline animalistic, the guttural and hoarse sound, vibrating through your whole body as he starts to fuck into you at a relentless pace.

You can feel yourself tightening and clenching around him, muscles pulling him in with each thrust as he knocks against all the right places that were already aching for him, urging you further into your orgasm.

"Shit- Jaemin, I think I'm gonna co-"

You're cut off once again, but not by Jaemin, by the sound of your front door opening.

"Babe, are you home?"

#jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #nct hard hours #kpop smut #jaemin scenarios #nct scenarios

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sonotpattismith · 2 months ago

Note

BASED ON CAUSAL UGGH, your mind, is a wonder, please devastate us(please don’t(PLEASE DO)

-🏃‍♀️

casual. (satoru gojo x reader)

word count: 13.3k warnings: angst, smut, suguru being the goat, 18+ a/n: I didn't intend for this to get so long, but I just kept going :') Inspired by Casual by Chapell Roan, a song that has been haunting me for like two months lol. I can't wait to hear what you all think, and lmk if these longer fics are something you're into! ILY THANK YOU ALL FOR THE KIND MESSAGES AND SUPPORT- every comment and message means the world to me. 🫶🏻

“You’re not gonna fall in love with me, are ya’?”

In hindsight, it should have raised more red flags in your clouded mind. The tone of voice he held was playful though— as it always seemed to be. Laced with a deep baritone that bore witness to the two of you’s activities of the last few minutes, that question should have had you digging your heels right into the ground to brake yourself, but you only found yourself digging your heels further into his lower back. Gasping softly against his shoulder, all you could do was shake your head at what should have been a first and final warning. How could you deny him when his fingers were reaching parts of you you were positive he alone had just discovered for the first time? How could you ever deny Satoru Gojo?

No, god no, anyone but Satoru Gojo.

You silently wallowed in mental anguish as your professor announced your semester partner, just weeks prior to the incident. Glancing around despairingly, you didn’t even see the man in question in any of the cramped seats of the lecture hall. It sparked a small flicker of hope in you; maybe he transferred out of this course last minute but was still showing up in the roster— happens all the time, right? Sure enough though, in typical Gojo fashion as you’ve observed in the two or three other classes you’ve had with him, as well as what his stellar reputation has revealed, the white haired man burst through the doors of the lecture hall not even two seconds later.

Now, you weren’t one that allowed yourself room to be late often. You didn’t have the generational wealth tied to the Gojo name as insurance for your future— you had to work your ass off to scrape up enough for tuition every semester. Still, in the few times you had been running late, it was always mortifying; heads turning your way, the professor’s disapproving stare, and that awkward shuffling as you tried to find any open seat to hide in. Gojo didn’t seem to have an ounce of humility in his six-foot-something body though as he strides confidently into the room, smiling casually at the professor with a nod of his head as everyone turned to watch his theatrical entrance.

His charming personality and fluent family name, paired with the striking, wide cerulean eyes that were constantly hidden behind the dark tinted lenses of his round glasses— everything about Gojo was attention grabbing. You weren’t even sure he seeked it out, though something about his celebrity like waves to the people that called out fondly to him as he walked around campus told you he certainly didn’t mind it.

Even so, it wasn’t his borderline narcissistic behavior that put you off about this forced arrangement, but the fact that he was perpetually ten to fifteen minutes late. In every class you’ve had the pleasure of sharing with him, it’s seemingly been his golden rule. Typically, it wouldn’t be your problem. It wasn’t your grades or attendance that suffered, after all. Now though, if he didn’t care enough to leave wherever he was stumbling back from ten minutes earlier if it meant he’d make it to class on time for once— how much would he really care to contribute to a term project with you?

“What’d I miss?” You heard him mutter not so subtly at his friend, who always knew to save him a seat, as he flopped down beside her.

Sparing a sidelong glance in their direction to find the tired looking girl beside him, Shoko as you remembered from the roster call, nodding her chin toward you. Gojo looked up at you with a dumb expression on his face, and for a moment you caught a glimpse of those famous, sparkling eyes of his as his glasses slipped down his nose. You recalled hearing about his hypersensitivity to light that triggered his need for the constant eye protection.

Your friend, the utter gossip she was, somehow had this information armed and ready in her arsenal to throw at you when you’d backhandedly mentioned to her what an asshole he looked like, always wearing his sunglasses indoors. It made you grumble because, shit, now you looked like the asshole.

The memory slowly waned from your consciousness as he quickly pushed his frames back up his nose before lifting a hand to wave enthusiastically at you. A silent scoff left you at the fact that he seemed so overjoyed to hear about his new term partner, apparent in the shit-eating grin that seemed to take up his entire face. Offering a weak wave in return, you faced forward once again to listen to the rest of the instructions, a migraine already forming at the acceptance that you’d definitely be on your own this semester.

“Gojo, can you please quiet down?” You hushed him for the fourth time that afternoon in the middle of what was supposed to be the quiet, campus library.

He wouldn’t for the life of him sit still; shifting back and forth from the seat to the right of you to the one across from you, tapping his pen obnoxiously on his laptop, sighing dramatically as he crossed and uncrossed his freakishly long legs. It was driving you, as well as the other students in the vicinity, insane. “You’re acting like you’re writing a dissertation— we’re just researching topics.”

Another one of his Oscar-worthy, theatrical sighs slipped past his lips and dissipated into a frustrated groan. Slamming his laptop shut, he looked up at you like a child who was told to get into the shower after he’d just got done perfectly muddying himself up. You stared back blankly at him.

You had never had the chance to observe him so closely. Now that you were though, despite the deep seeds of irritation he was rooting inside of you, you could understand why everyone on campus was so smitten by him. His wispy, white hair splayed messily across his forehead and partly into his concealed eyes, appearing just rustled enough to tell you he didn’t style it, but fluffy enough to tell you he definitely took the time to at least attack it haphazardly with a blow dryer. He always dressed nicely though— nicer than any of the other boys you saw hanging around campus anyway. Still, his style was laidback, casual, cool. You almost rolled your eyes at yourself, recognizing that you were beginning to sound like your best friend, who insisted Gojo was the crème de la crème of eligible bachelors.

“Do you have ants in your fucking pants or something? What is your—”

“All the tuition these people charge, and they can’t afford some curtains?” He cut you off with an exasperated gasp and shoved his head into his hands.

You opened your mouth to tell him off once again for speaking so obnoxiously loud in the library, but the scolding lecture caught in your throat upon seeing the way the sun was shining right in his face from the large windows. Watching his fingers crawl under his glasses to rub aggravatedly at his eyes, a pang of guilt hit your chest for not having realized the cause of his restlessness sooner.

“Oh, um…” Your voice trailed off as you looked around the library for a dimmer area, but it seemed every corner was shrouded in sunlight. Tapping your fingernails anxiously against your laptop, you weighed your options. You’d regret this later.

“Thank god!” Gojo exclaimed as he quickly moved through your small dorm, climbing up onto the bed to draw the curtains over the offending window. Your lips threatened to twitch up into an amused smile, but it stopped as you watched him flop back down way too comfortably on your twin bed and rub at his temples.

“Do you want something for headaches? Um… I should have something in here…” You rambled while rummaging through the small medicine bin you had in the cabinet of your kitchenette. “Here.”

Finally spotting the bottle of migraine relief, you popped it open and fished two pills out. One of your partner’s eyes popped open to find you standing before him with your hand outstretched in offering. He took in your apprehensive stance with a concealed smile; way you shifted from one foot to the other as he stared back at you, lips pursing unsuredly with eyes that wanted to be anywhere but his.

Cute.

Sitting up and leaning forward, Gojo dipped his head down to scoop up the pills into his mouth, plush lips running softly over your sensitive palms. Your eyes widened a bit at his clear lack of understanding of personal space or normal human interactional rules in general. A gasp threatened to spill from your lips when you felt his teeth graze your skin before he finally threw his head back to swallow the pills. He flashed you a dazzling smile.

“Thanks, pretty girl.”

You chose, for your own sanity, to ignore that pet name. Shaking your head, you wiped your hand on your sweater before moving to grab your laptop from your bag. Weighing your seat options, you almost opted to sit on your desk chair just so you’d have space from the overly-comfortable man on your bed. You sighed before sitting at the edge of the bed and cast a sidelong glance at the way he remained lounged back, propping his head on his hands so he could see your screen.

“Do you mind taking your shoes off if you’re going to lay in my bed?” You pleaded, a shiver running down your spine at the thought of whatever he may be tracking into your sheets.

He revealed an amused smile, but complied anyway, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge to kick his shoes off. Leaning back on his hands, he tilted his head at you. The innocent motion had your chest swirling with a gut feeling that maybe these people that followed him around all the time were onto something. Quickly turning your attention back to the pathetic list of topics you two had come up with thus far, you bit your bottom lip.

“Any more requests for me, princess?”

“Yeah, how about you actually help me pick a topic now instead of just sitting there?”

“Geez, lighten up a little. Been a while since someone dicked you down or what—”

A sharp slap across his cheek didn’t allow him to finish that sentence. His head swung to the side, glasses almost slipping off of his stunned face. You gasped quietly, your hand shooting up to cover your mouth guiltily. With bated breath, you watched as he brought a hand up to hold his red cheek, his white lashes fluttering as he blinked rapidly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I—”

“Nah,” Gojo chuckled breathlessly (and a little awkwardly), moving to adjust the frames properly on his face. He flicked his hair from his eyes, looking at you with a sheepish grin. “I deserved that one. My friend is always telling me I needa’ tone it down, so…”

You sighed, mortified by your abrupt actions. Slumping your shoulders, you set your laptop aside as you buried your face into your hands. He was right, at least about your being so high strung (and about the dick part, but that was beside the point). There was always this impossible expectation that you set for yourself— you always had to outdo yourself— your very own, never ending competition. Still, with all the courses you were bending over backwards in to assure your grades stayed high enough to maintain your scholarship, as well as the ass-crack-of-dawn hours you crammed in at work before your classes so you could cover room and board, you didn’t feel like you had a chance to breathe.

“No, no,” You insisted, sparing a mortified glance at the stinging handprint left on his pale cheek. “I mean, yeah, you sounded like a total prick, but I still shouldn’t have hit you.”

“Ehh, who said I don’t like getting smacked around every once and a while?” He quipped teasingly before his smile faltered, and he leaned back just a hair and raised his hands in front of him. “That was a joke— please don’t hit me again.”

For the first time since being paired with this idiot, you actually laughed. It shook your shoulders, it lit up your face— you were a completely different person. Gojo smiled softly at this, nudging you with his shoulder. It was as if he could see the weight being lifted off of your shoulders, even if just for a second. Looking up from your lap, you noted how close he was to you, and how intensely his glittering eyes were boring into you, even behind his tinted frames. His brow quirked up upon seeing the oh-so-obvious signs that your thoughts had also drifted from the research topic you two were supposed to be picking.

“At the risk of getting slapped again— are we about to kiss right now?”

You flushed at his teasing tone, but leaned forward to meet him in the middle nonetheless. He grunted as your lips met his, and, with the newfound permission you’d granted him, Gojo took the reins from there. Grasping your cheek firmly in one hand, he allowed the other to roam down to your waist, where his eager fingers pulled you in closer to him. An embarrassing gasp slipped past your lips as you tumbled into his lap, but he drank it up, not allowing you any room to catch your breath.

“Ohhh…” He rasped desperately upon hearing the little noises you made for him. “I could take such good care of you, hmm?”

Your face and neck were impossibly red at his lewd words, but that heat was traveling right down south and rendering your basic comprehension skills utterly useless. Panting softly, you looked into his blown out, dazed eyes and challenging smirk. You weren’t making it out of this one unscathed.

How did you end up pressed against the wall of your dorm room, your haphazardly placed polaroid pictures falling unceremoniously to the floor with every writhe of your hips? Right— Satoru Gojo looked at you with those magical, cerulean eyes and promised he could definitely help you unwind. And unwinding you were, with your thighs thrown over his surprisingly sturdy shoulders as he kneeled below you and showed you that his mouth could do alot more than talk endless shit.

Your jaw fell slack as his fingers dug into your hips, pulling your core against his face like he’d never eat again. Had you not currently been floating through another astral realm at the moment, you would have been embarrassed at the sloppy, squelching noises emitting from both your sex and his expert tongue.

“Gojo!” You gasped, reaching down to pull at the shoulder of his shirt, desperate for anything to ground you.

He groaned, and you thought you heard him mumble something against you, but the sound of your blood coursing in your ears deafened you. He pinched your thigh before pulling away for a millisecond to look up at you. Lord, you could have fallen apart at the sight. His glasses were pushed up onto his head, his soft tufts of snowy hair caught within the frames and giving you full access to view his face— the one you had never noticed was so delicately beautiful.

The sight of his bare eyes was almost intimidating— no, scratch that— it was definitely intimidating. No man should ever look that pretty with your slick coating his face so grotesquely.

“Satoru.” He insisted, his wide-eyed gaze demanding attention. You gaped down at him, making his fingers squeeze the fat of your thighs harshly once again. “Say it.”

As he dove back in, your mouth trembled open to try his name on your lips, but you were cut off by his obnoxiously loud and peppy ringtone. Grunting in aggravation, he didn’t pull away from you as he aimlessly dug in his back pocket for his phone. Casting a sidelong glance at the screen as his tongue continued to ravish you, his brows furrowed.

“Sorry, pretty girl, one sec’.” And in an instant he was swiping to answer the call, pressing his phone to his ear and his thumb to your clit.

Your hand shot up to conceal the stranglehold gasp that ripped from you as he began drawing lazy circles against your bundle of nerves. Gojo hummed along to whoever was on the other line before chuckling in disbelief.

“Again? This kid—” He shook his head, but there was an amused grin on his face. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

Tossing his phone carelessly onto the carpeted floor, Satoru looked up at you determinedly. With a cock of his pretty head, he flashed you a charming smile.

“We’re gonna have to make this quick, pretty girl.”

If Satoru Gojo was anything, you were quickly learning, it was a man of his word, because not only three minutes later he had you tossing the glasses off his head and gripping at the roots of his hair until you were sure it’d come off in clumps between your trembling fingers. His hand reached up to shove his fingers into your mouth in a last ditch attempt to quiet your pitchy whines before you got a noise complaint, though you could swear in the midst of your haze you felt him laugh against you.

Relief came flooding over your system, working its way down each of your tense muscles and even washing away that ever present sting in the back of your head that always said there was something you should be worrying about. All you could worry about this second though was the way Satoru cleaned you eagerly with his majestic tongue, pressing longing kisses against your trembling thighs and hips as he slowly set you back down on the ground.

The ever surprising man before you pressed one last, lingering and bruising kiss to your lips before smoothing your hair down cheekily and shaking his glasses back down to his face. You could only watch breathlessly as he shoved his shoes back on and gathered his things. He wasn’t very subtle in the way he reached down to adjust his erection through his pants, but he was headed for the door nonetheless.

“Wait,” you stammered out, stumbling back into your panties that had been thrown off into the corner of the room. “W-What about you?”

His head tilted back to look at you amusedly. Upon catching another glimpse of your reddened face and blown out eyes, Satoru couldn’t help himself as he stepped back and gave you another kiss.

“Relax, I’ve got all semester to cash in, don’t I?” He quipped with a wink, fingers coming up to pinch your flushed cheek. His words sank into your subconscious, and you couldn’t tell if they excited or scared you. “Besides, you needed it more than I did.”

“What about our research topic?” You hopped toward the door to shout with your head poking outside.

He swiveled around to face you as he continued walking down the hall of your dorm.

“Damn, it’s gonna take a lot more to loosen you up, huh?” His teasing smirk only served to further fluster you, and he turned his back to you once again. “I’ll text you— relax!”

Little did Satoru Gojo know you didn’t think you could ever relax in his presence again. He was unlike the picture you had painted in your head of him. Sure, he was still loud, obnoxious, out of touch in certain things, but he also displayed a side that was understanding, perceptive— and generous.

You thought your best friend would combust when you urged her to come by your dorm to recount the events of the day. She wanted details— mind bogglingly specific details to compare against the mental image she’d created for the man and placed on the altar of her psyche. The reason you really wanted her over, was to get a second opinion on his abrupt departure following the best head you’d ever received in your life— not that you had received much by way of comparison.

She rolled her eyes at your attempt to find a negative here, reminding you how affluent his family was, and that he likely was always getting called back home for matters too rich for our understanding. It gnawed at you though, and you remained unconvinced as you trudged through your week.

Continuing to surprise you, Sataoru did text you that night. You figured he’d send an article he’d read over haphazardly before deciding it was good enough for you to make a final decision on and sending it your way. You received a document with an actual research proposal though— typed, formal, neat, and actually viable enough to commit an entire term project to. Relief flooded you at the prospect that maybe this semester wouldn’t be as miserable as you assumed it would be.

Still, he made no mention of what had transpired between you two that day. Not that you figured he would, but you still couldn’t help the pang of disappointment that struck you. You were getting ahead of yourself. After all, he wasn’t the only attractive man with good tongue game, right? No need to go falling head over heels.

Your nerves leading up to your shared physics class the following week had you in shambles though. Would he pretend like nothing happened? Or worse, would he make it super obvious that something did happen? As the anxiety swirled in your mind, you cursed yourself for not using your time in university to become better versed in hookup culture, because god, you felt pathetic.

When Satoru strolled into class at the usual fifteen minutes past start time that he’d apparently set for himself, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, facing the professor with an intensity as if his lecture on quantum mechanics was the most riveting topic you’d yet to encounter. Just as usual though, he strolled right up to his seat beside Shoko. From your forced attention on your professor, you missed the way he regarded you with a sidelong glance, waiting for your acknowlegement, but none came.

Just as you thought you had escaped the interaction unscathed, bounding out of the classroom after collecting your things— fate revealed other plans for you. A heavy arm draped across your shoulders as you walked down the hallway, determined to get a strong coffee that could keep you up for the remainder of your two classes. You didn’t have to look to know who it was, the scent of his subtle yet somehow still expensive smelling cologne was a dead giveaway.

“Weeeell?” Satoru drawled out, leaning his head down with a tilt and smiling mischevieously as you. You rose a brow at him, determined to keep your cool as you continued your trek into the campus cafe. He let out a disappointed puff at your resolve. “I didn’t hear back from you about the research proposal. Figured you’d be all over that shit.”

You finally tore your gaze away from the menu above you to peer at him.

“Yeah, it was really good actually, Gojo.” You offered the hesitant praise. Leaning forward, you gave your order to the awaiting barista before you.

“You sound shocked. Thought I’d disappoint?” He quipped. You blinked as he nonchalantly pulled a heavy looking, black card from his wallet and swiped it for your coffee. Crossing his arms and leaning against the counter, he smiled expectantly down at you. “And I thought I told you my name was Satoru.”

Your face flushed at the thought of his reminder, thinking of how he was right between your legs when he demanded the name from your lips.

“Right, well, Satoru,” You emphasized, grabbing your cappuccino from the barista with a kind smile. “Color me surprised— I thought you’d be a dumbass. And thank you for the coffee, by the way.”

“Anything for my favorite, stuck up little term partner.” He gushed, pinching your cheek. You began walking toward the exit, and he followed after you. “Anyway, same time, same place?”

Almost choking on the sip of your coffee you’d taken, you stared up at him with wide eyes. God, he just couldn’t help himself, he thought with a knowing smile. It was always so easy to rile you up.

“To work on our first draft?” He finally put you out of your misery.

“Right,” You breathed, looking forward to make your way to your next class. “Yeah, I’ll see you later.”

Despite your nerves, the research session with Satoru had been going surprisingly well. Much to your relief, he sat criss crossed on the floor beside your bed, typing lazily at his keyboard with surprising resolve. As the minutes ticked on though, you could practically sense him growing more and more restless.

In the span of fifteen minutes, he had shifted from his criss cross position to flop lazily down onto his stomach, checked his phone six times, and was now pacing around your small room with his laptop clutched in one arm in front of him. You considered yourself fairly level headed, but shit— he was making you anxious now. Before you could reprimand his distracting behavior, he slammed his laptop shut with a huff.

Looking around your kitchenette, he tossed his laptop onto your bed (way too casually for a device that had to be worth two months of your room and board) and began rummaging through your cabinets.

“Satoru—” You grumbled with pink cheeks as he scrunched his face disapprovingly at your empty shelves.

“Got anything sweet in here?” He questioned, shoving his head into your fridge. “Besides you, of course.”

“No… but if you sit down and focus like you were twenty minutes ago, we could finish, and then you could go and eat your heart out.” You suggested with a mocking smile.

He blew a raspberry in your direction, crossing his arms over the open refrigerator door and looking at you despairingly.

“C’mon, it’ll help me focus.”

The sincerity in his frankly pathetic words was almost endearing, and you found yourself melting a bit at his soft pout. You sighed. Satoru smiled triumphantly as you moved to squat down and dig into your bottom drawer, pulling out a small bin of various candies.

“You owe me.” You laughed softly as he immediately snatched up the box of strawberry flavored pocky that had always been your favorite. He glanced up at you, the pink stick still hanging from his lips as he continued rummaging through your selection with determinedly furrowed brows. “You’re digging into my emergency PMS supply. So, I better see some Einstein level shit coming out of you after this.”

“Sure fire method— never failed me before. Try it.” In an instant, he was shoving the other end of his pocky stick toward your face, awaiting on the other side of it with a devilish glint in his striking eyes.

Your movements faltered for a moment, and you blinked back at him with a quickening heart. The startled expression on your face only made his lips curl up into a smirk around the sweet, pink stick. Hesitantly, you leaned forward and sunk your teeth into the other end of the pocky. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes that told you you had fallen right into his trap. As he carefully inched forward, you could feel the cool breath he was slowly releasing from his nose fan out against your flushed face.

Satoru could still see it— the tenseness in your shoulders, the apprehension swirling in your mind, the weight on your chest— and he just craved to be any sort of release for you. Maybe it was your subtle, caring nature that you hid under all that bold mouthed bravado, the little pieces of it that creeped out through your wide eyes. He wanted to dig, find his way to the bottom of it, and let it out so he may see all the beautiful edges and intricacies of it.

Your hand twitched up beside you, but it seemed your anxious mind was working against whatever desires were hiding in the chasm of your mind, and you retracted. He was too fast for you though— too perceptive— and he quickly reached out to grab your hand and hold it mid-air, inviting you to finish whatever motion your subconscious had started. Your lashes fluttered up at him as you reached up to pull his glasses from his face, and he couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

Satoru’s teeth snapped the candied stick between you two, spitting it out haphazardly and crashing against your lips to chase the lingering strawberry cream taste there instead. You hummed in surprise as he ripped the bin from your arms and set it uncoordinatedly on your bedside table before grabbing your face in his large hands.

Suddenly, you weren’t concerned about what it meant or what could possibly be going through his head, because he was hovering over you with such ease that he may have convinced you he was born to do just that. Satoru was whispering sweetly into your ear, flooding out all concerns that lay beyond your dorm room with saccharine promises of I’ll take care of you and that you just needed to relax for me.

And you did, so much so that you weren’t sure when you’d blinked and suddenly lay bare underneath of him, his fingers working into you in a frenzied haze all while his eyes held you captive. You could hear yourself crying out for him, the name he so desperately wanted to hear last time falling from your lips like a prayer onto his ears. Satoru smiled at you.

He smiled, and for a moment you found yourself dumbstruck by the thought that his mind had been just as consumed by you the past week, because none of the other fumbling college boys you’d opened your legs for had ever tended to you with such keen precision. Of all the beds you’d fallen into in the past, none had smiled at you so sweetly as though they wished to pour their soul into you as opposed to just their dick.

But maybe Satoru Gojo simply had that way about him. You pondered, as he rolled a condom onto his intimidating length and stared down at you as if thoroughly pleased with his work, that he protected those eyes because unlike you, he hadn’t the ability to hide his soul like you had grown so expert at. The thought raced down your chest, while he pushed into you with a soothing hand on your inner thigh, that his eyes told a similar story to all the girls that ended up sprawled vulnerably underneath him.

Still, as his hips finally met yours with a slack jaw, and his lips slowly twisted up into a satiated smile— as his forehead braced against yours with that knowing glint in his blown out eyes— as he murmured,

“You’re not gonna fall in love with me, are ya’?”

—you couldn’t help but feel as though you were the only one.

In your lust filled stupor, because Satoru was so carnal in the way he rolled his hips into you, the implications of his words failed to penetrate. The only thing on your mind was the manner in which his lips brushed against yours fervently with every merge of his body into yours, his pitched whines in the back of his throat, and how his hand grasped yours from where it twisted desperately into the sheets to bring it up to his hair, inviting you to pull on him instead to ground yourself.

So, you shook your head at his question and squeezed your thighs around his slim waist— anything if it meant he wouldn’t cease his firm grasp on your jaw as he pleaded for you to just say his name again for him. You sounded it out so beautifully and flush against his ear, after all.

It wasn’t until after his trembling climax, as his perspiring body slumped against you, the both of you squeezed into your twin sized bed with his head resting against your chest, that his words registered. His silken hair tickled your chin, and you reached out to brush it back gently, not missing the way his chest reverberated against yours with a contented hum at the sensation. Satoru was still inside you when you realized that you’d allowed your fantasies to drift too far.

Despite his question that told you you should have been packing all those thoughts up and tossing them out, like, yesterday, he stayed just as he was for some time, allowing you to card your fingers through his hair with contented, lulled eyes as he softened against your walls. For a moment, you thought he’d fallen asleep.

“Satoru?” You called faintly, needing to get out from underneath him before your aching desire to allow him such comfort against you pulled you any further into your delusions. He hummed in question but didn’t look up. You chewed on your bottom lip. “Do… do you wanna keep working on the draft?”

He was still for just a beat longer before pulling himself up on his elbows to look at you incredulously. How quickly you realized that having him against your chest was better than staring head on into those troublesome eyes. The man scoffed with a small smile.

“Was my stroke game that bad that you’re still thinking about that damn paper?”

His jokingly offended tone made you flush furiously, looking instead at the cream walls of your dorm. He huffed out a chuckle, carefully pulling out of you with a soft groan as he moved to squeeze into the spot beside you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so preoccupied in my life. What sign are you? Are you a Virgo? I bet you’re a Virgo.” He rambled as he propped his head up on his hand to look down at you inquisitively. His casual banter following the mind-blowing climaxes he’d just pulled from you threw you off. In the midst of your surprise, you realized he was actually expecting an answer.

“I don’t… even actually remember.” You mumbled as you racked your brain. In truth, though you always found it nice how the common ground conversation of zodiac signs seemed to bring people together in curious ways, you never kept up with it yourself. Always claiming you’d read more into it, you never gave yourself the chance to— ever preoccupied with other things.

“You don’t—” Satoru gaped down at you as if you’d just told him you killed his childhood pet. In an instant, he was reaching over you and hanging off the side of his bed to grab his phone from his discarded jeans. “How do you not know your own sign?”

“I-I don’t know, it’s not that big a—”

“When’s your birthday?” He insisted as he finally returned to his cramped spot beside you. Seemingly irritated by the lack of space, he crammed his arm under your head and crooked his elbow around your neck, typing at his phone that was now hovering over the both of you. When you didn’t answer, he glanced down at where you laid pressed up against his chest. “C‘mon, this birth chart isn’t gonna fill itself out.”

Truthfully, his casual banter only served to fluster you more, but you couldn’t help but be amused by his insistence on reading every single one of the alignments in your chart, humming along about how yeah, that sounds like you despite his only really knowing you for a few weeks. You told yourself you would snap out of it, but maybe it could be after you finished laughing along with every assumption he would pull out of his ass about you based solely on what he was reading on your chart.

Seriously, you told yourself as you two got up to get dressed. You’d get over it as soon as you got back from the lunch he insisted you two go get, whining incessantly about how starving he was and that he couldn’t possibly be expected to work under these conditions.

You’d get over it, you insisted as he scoffed at your attempt to hand him some cash to cover your portion of the bill.

You’d get over it, you thought as he absentmindedly drummed his fingers along your knee while he tried his hardest to focus his scattered attention on the draft.

You’d get over it, you pleaded with yourself when he stumbled into class the following week and, before climbing up to his seat beside his friend, set a small bag down on your desk.

You’d get over it, you were starting to doubt yourself as you peeked into the bag to find a jumbo box of strawberry pocky to replace the stash he’d depleted that day as you two worked together.

As the term dragged on, and you and Satoru fell into a subtle ebb and flow of exasperated banter that would drift into teasing coos that he knew what you needed. A cycle of bruising kisses and confusing intimacy that would only be further drilled in by the playful wit and glittering laugh that taunted you with the notion that, no— you couldn’t get over it.

“I’m so screwed.” You groaned despairingly as your friend tapped away at her laptop beside you in the library. It was a place you didn’t frequent as often since the last time you’d left it with Satoru.

“No, you’re just too much of a wimp,” She emphasized with a curt glare shot your way. A small smile fell onto her lips at the way you seemed to shrink into your chair. “To ask him what’s going on between you two.”

“Because he wants something casual!” You gasped out in exasperation, blushing when fellow students shot pointed glares in your direction. Leaning in closer to her, you lowered your voice into a hushed whisper. “Do you not remember the don’t fall in love with me debacle?”

“He did not say it like that.” She deadpanned before shutting her laptop to face you. “Besides, that was like six fucks and five dates ago.”

“They weren’t dates.” You emphasized, frustrated with the way that this had to be the third time you’d clarified it to her. “We were just—”

“Going out for lunch? Dinner?”

“Just lunch…” Despite your flushed cheeks, you nodded along. It didn’t really make a difference you supposed, but it did send your curiosity spiraling the way Satoru was always gone by three, throwing out casual excuses about needing to be somewhere.

“That he always pays for?”

“Well—”

“Just like all the coffees and sweets he brings you before he fucks you stupid in that tiny ass dorm of yours everytime he sees you?”

“Will you stop being so gross?” You begged with a violent whisper, gathering your things as she got up to leave. Your head sunk down into your chest with the hope that your hair would cover your burning cheeks as you followed her out the building.

“You can be as uptight as you want about it, but the dude likes you.” She defended with raised hands.

It was starting to become a repetitive conversation, one that never ended well for your endless fantasies that maybe Satoru saw you as something more than just a friend he occasionally screwed. Maybe it was best that you stopped asking her, because you got the feeling she was trying to live vicariously through you to fulfill that aching curiosity she had about whether all the rumors about him were true.

As she continued to drone on about how you needed to tell him to shit or get off the pot and that he can’t have his cake and eat it too, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. That pathetic little spark of excitement lit up in your stomach upon checking the screen.

Satoru: Can you please please please send me a picture of you?

Your brows furrowed, cheeks flushing at the thought of what kind of picture he could possibly want from you. He was so good at leaving you grasping for straws, going days without hearing from him just to receive some outlandish message or a demand to meet him somewhere for lunch because how am I supposed to eat by myself and Suguru is still in class and says I’m too clingy. It should’ve been an Olympic sport— the way he knew just how much attention to give you to keep your mind reeling with possibilities.

“Oh my god, opps alert.” Your friend suddenly announced, and you quickly pulled your phone to your chest, thinking she was referring to the message you had now been stupidly staring at for way too long. Your suspicions were proven wrong when you heard an overly-enthusiastic call of your name, and you looked up to find the man himself jogging toward you with a wide grin and eager wave.

“Did you get my text? You ignoring me?” Satoru whined before offering an abrupt greeting to your friend, who was holding back a knowing smile behind her phone that she busied herself with.

“You texted me two minutes ago, Satoru.” Your exasperated tone was only shrugged off with a subtle pfft as he whipped his phone out and threw an arm over your shoulder.

“Smile!” Faster than you could keep up with, he leaned in to press a sloppy kiss on your cheek. You heard the distinct click of his phone camera shuttering a few times before he pulled away from you with an accomplished smile.

“What—”

“My mom keeps sending me articles about how to come out to your parents.” Satoru explained nonchalantly as his thumbs fluttered across his screen. You let out a cough of surprise when your spit seemed to lodge traitorously in the back of your throat. Looking up with a sigh, he rolled his head around to glance at your friend exasperatedly. “She gave Suguru and I pride pins last time we went by for dinner. I mean, we thought it was funny at first, but it’s getting a little awkward—”

“Satoru, what does this have to do with me?” You couldn’t help but laugh at his rambling, swatting at your friend discreetly as she pointed to the aforementioned pride pin that was attached to his bag with a bewildered expression. Moving to walk between you two, he rolled his eyes dramatically as if it was your fault that you couldn’t keep up with his tangential speech pattern.

“If she thinks you’re my girlfriend, she’ll stop with all the ‘we love you no matter what, Toru’ speeches every time I see her— god, keep up.”

Behind his back, you shot your friend a wide eyed expression that she was already reciprocating, but her’s bore an excited smirk as she gave you a thumbs up.

“Hey, Gojo, you free Saturday?” Her abrupt question confused you, but you slowly caught on to what was going on on Saturday that would require his attention. You desperately shook your head at her.

“I can be persuaded to be free on Saturday.”

“Aw, well, I’m throwing a little birthday party for someone here on Saturday, and you should—”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m sure Satoru has—”

“Birthday party?” He shouted dramatically, whipping his head around to look down at you in offense. “You weren’t gonna invite me to your birthday party?”

“You really don’t have to—” For what seemed like the millionth time, you were interrupted. Maybe it was for the best though, because you could feel your face heating up with sheer embarrassment as you stammered out any excuse possible.

“Well now I’m going just to spite you.” Satoru quipped with finality before turning to your friend who looked entirely too pleased with herself. With his attention away from you, you took the opportunity to throw venom dripped daggers from your eyes right into her. “Can I bring a friend?”

“We could squeeze him in.” She agreed, already knowing, like everyone else on campus, he was referring to the tall, long-haired man that always seemed to be attached to Satoru’s hip at all times possible. It was no wonder his mom was beginning to ask questions, given their relationship used to be the speculation of countless rumors around school as well.

You had met Suguru in passing a few times when catching up with your partner between classes, but you didn’t know him too well. Despite your curiosity about the dynamic he held with his tight-knit friends, you were a little grateful you’d never hung out with both of them. That level of attractiveness could only be handled one at a time as far as you were concerned. Those two were increasingly intimidating when side by side. Even worse, they seemed to feed right off of each other’s energy.

“Then I’ll see you when you’re a year older, pretty girl.”

You could have skinned your dear friend alive in the days leading up to your birthday party. As each day passed, the knot in your stomach grew larger and twisted more erratically than it had previously. It’s not like you were uncomfortable around Satoru. In fact, you had grown quite familiar and warmed to his overbearing, hyperactive, and clingy nature over the past two months. The thought of you asking him to come to your birthday party made you feel like you were acting like a clingy girlfriend. The notion made you want to hurl, even if you weren’t the one that asked.

Still, the time grew closer and closer, and you were now trying not to watch the door as you laughed over the booming music blasting through whoever’s dorm room it was that your friend deemed was big enough to host in. You must have gone into the bathroom to check yourself in the mirror at least three times, and you had only been there for an hour. Sure enough, as you nodded to yourself and turned the light off for the fourth time, your smokey makeup was still perfectly intact, and your boobs weren’t popping embarrassingly out of the starry, navy dress you’d stolen from your friend’s closet.

As you made your way down the hall and into the crowded room, you couldn’t help but wonder who the fuck half these people were. You assumed most of the strangers were plus ones of the plus ones of the people you actually knew and invited there, but, then again, it wasn’t you who had planned it, so it was out of your hands. There were obnoxious whooping calls that grew closer and closer as you emerged, and you spotted the unmistakable yin and yang head’s of hair that towered over the mass of people before you.

A wave of nausea and uncertainty crashed over you, and you turned on your heel to hide in the bathroom, but Satoru was, once again, too fast for the likes of you.

“Birthday girl!” He shouted so loudly, he could be heard clearly over the music that practically vibrated the walls. Slowly turning back around in defeat, you watched as he easily pushed through shoulder after shoulder to reach you with a dumb smile. He surprised you when he pulled you up into a bone crushing hug, your legs dangling helplessly in the air for a moment before he set you down. His shielded eyes regarded you with a smirk, and he whistled lowly. “Old age suits you.”

You were grateful that the LED strip lights were the only things lighting the room, making your flush less noticeable as you smacked his chest with pursed lips.

“You didn’t have to come, you know.” You stood on your tiptoes to shout into his ear. Your small, fond smile gave you away though.

“Then how would I have given you your birthday gift on your birthday if I didn’t come to your birthday party, huh?” As he rambled nonsensically, his hand reached into his pocket to fish out a small, black box and held it up to you.

“Satoru,” You stammered at the thought that he had gone out of his way to buy you a gift, and, from the looks of it, jewelry nonetheless. Once again, a war was raging in your mind against the rational part of your mind that told you that this man wanted nothing serious with you, and the softer, more hopeful part that said hookups don’t buy each other jewelry. “You- you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“You kidding me?” He murmured, a bit softer than his previous tone as he opened the small box and carefully pulled the gold chain out. Your lips parted at the sight of the delicate charm hanging on the end of it. Noting the curiosity on your face as you twirled the symbol between your fingers, Satoru smiled. “It’s the constellation for your zodiac sign! So you don’t forget again.”

He stepped behind you to place the cool chain around your neck, but your eyes were stuck on the space he was just occupying. You wondered with bated breath if he could feel the racing of your pulse against his fingers as he ran his hands gently down your neck to scoop your hair over the chain after he’d secured the clasp. Your lashes fluttered as you looked up to meet the gaze of your friend who was not too far away, seemingly showing Suguru where the drinks were while watching the entire scene pan out. Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip to suppress her unbridled excitement for you before she turned to continue speaking with the tall man beside her.

She had given you somewhat of a pep talk as you two got ready together before the party, telling you you had to have Satoru clarify things before you let yourself go any further into this situation. As you anxiously applied your makeup, you thought the likelihood of such a confrontation ending well for you was slim to none. Now though, as Satoru turned you to face him and gazed so sweetly down at the pendant splayed on your chest— a reminder that he remembered even the smallest moments you had assumed were mundane to him— you began to think that maybe looking for more wasn’t such a far fetched idea after all.

“Thank you, Satoru. Really.” You smiled genuinely up at him, toying with the charm between your fingers. He tutted nonchalantly, reaching out to ruffle your hair. “You’re… a lot sweeter than I thought you’d be, y’know?”

“Shuuucks, better quit sweet talkin’ me.” He teasingly gushed, leaning down till his lips brushed against your ear. “Gonna make me wanna give you your second gift early.”

A rushed heat quickly flooded down your core. His fingers traced down your arm with a feather-light touch before lacing together with your own. The warmth of his cheek brushed against yours as he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes. Satoru was taking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and the way your bottom lip tucked timidly between your teeth, and he let out a quiet groan.

“Just ten minutes— they won’t even know you’re gone.” Satoru insisted with a wavering voice as he began tugging you toward the bathroom.

The shame crept up in you, and you knew you should have stopped him— made sure for the sake of your own heart that this wasn’t all you’d ever be before you allowed him to eagerly slam the bathroom door behind you. That all-encompassing question haunted your hazed thoughts while Satoru chased desperate kisses down your neck, dragging his warm tongue over your collarbone and biting down carnally on the area where the charm he’d graced you with met your flesh. He sucked the pendant between his teeth, mumbling indiscernibly about how pretty my charm looks around your neck.

Your trembling fingers raced through the buttons of his shirt, pushing it open to explore the expanse of his chest as he tugged the hem of your dress up past your hips and hoisted you onto the sink. Despite the way your heart yearned so desperately for answers— for safety and solace from the push and pull you had subjected it to for two months— you could only choke out a gasp as he pulled your panties to the side. The feeling of your dripping heat against his greedy fingers had his body lurching forward, nearly sending you crashing into the mirror behind you as a breathless moan ripped from his chest.

So, no— you didn’t ask Satoru if your helpless ideas of real dates and titles and proud announces were lone— only haunting you, because as he curled his fingers into you and panted into your ear that my girl looks so beautiful like this, it was enough for your fizzling, mushed brain. So, you disregarded the fear in the back of your mind and worked to unbutton his jeans.

The ardent pep talk your friend had given you came from a place of love and concern, as even she knew you weren’t built for this kind of relationship. You worried too much, became preoccupied with the little things, your heart, while resilient your whole life as you worked your way to where you were now, was too fragile to allow Satoru Gojo to free reign to swing it open without the promise of ever staying. But you wanted him to stay, so desperately, you wanted those incandescent eyes to remain locked on you so keenly. You didn’t have the right words to plead with him, the only weapons in your comparably pathetic and timid arsenal were the heat between your legs and the hand you worked against the leaking swell of his cock in tandem with his palm’s wet smacks onto your center as he continued bullying your insides.

As he leaned his head onto your shoulder and rutted into your delicate hand, his string of cursed moans and whined praises made you forget that Satoru didn’t love you too.

“You’re so good to me, pretty girl— my perfect girl.” When he said things like that though, so sweetly with faux sincerity while coming undone all over your trembling thighs, you began to think that maybe he did.

You held onto that lighthearted, false sense of hope as he followed you out of the bathroom and stayed by your side that night. The bright smile on your glowing cheeks would have had anyone assuming you’d just met the love of your life, but the man trailing behind you as you took the shots that were thrust your way and refused any that were offered to him. He was entirely sober as he watched you with a wide, glittering smile. He hadn’t had a drop of liquor when he stood proudly beside you with that same smile as you blew the candles out on your heart-shaped cake, blissfully unaware of the fact that you wished for him with that winding breath, despite your delusional mind and heart that told you he was already yours.

“Gojo, c’mon, get in for a picture with your girlfriend!” Someone called out as the flame on the final candle was stamped out.

“Huh? Oh, no— we’re just friends!” Satoru’s playful tone rang out over the chatter of the crowd around you.

The smile on your face slowly faded, but the flashes of the camera still permeated the air as you felt him lean against you to smile for a picture nonetheless, unfazed by his screeching words that made the pendant around your neck seem suffocatingly heavy. You blinked down at the cake in front of you, watching yourself from the outside, slicing into the delicately crafted heart to begin mindlessly passing out to people. You didn’t notice that your hands were trembling, or the way your face seemed to burn with unshed tears until your friend’s fingers wrapped around your wrist gently.

“Come with me, I have to give you your gift.” Your friend lied with a bold face, concern swimming in her kind eyes as she regarded your shell-shocked demeanor. In truth, she wanted to grab the plastic knife from your hands and ram it into the chest of the man standing so obliviously beside you, laughing carelessly along with people surrounding you. You could only nod. Satoru’s hand slipped from your back as she dragged you away.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She muttered endlessly as a stream of stinging tears fell down your face as soon as the bathroom door shut. Her arms wrapped around your shoulders, but you were pushing against her, trying so desperately to pull yourself together. How could you be so pathetic? “I should have never said anything. I just thought he—”

“I know, so did I.” You whispered, somehow afraid he’d hear you from the bathroom over the blaring music and drunken crowd. With trembling fingers, you wiped furiously at the tears under your eyes. “God— he told me. He told me. I’m such a fucking idiot—”

“He’s a fucking idiot.” Your friend spat with verocity. In a furious haze, she began wiping the smeared mascara from under your eyes, muttering unintelligably under her breath before moving to rustle up your hair. “Listen to me. You are going to go back out there, and you are going to find the hottest man you can fucking find, and you are not going to breathe in that snow topped asshole’s direction for the rest of the night.”

“None of them are as hot as—”

“Well for tonight they fucking better be!” She exclaimed in exasperation as she smacked your ass encouragingly. “C’mon, I know it’s looking grave, but I think I saw at least like two or three solid sevens out there.”

Once you were sure the traces of your tears were undetectable, save for that wet glimmer in your irises that you couldn’t seem to shake, the two of you dispersed with determindely set faces. Maybe you were just pathetic, you began to think as you grazed over the selection of men before you, but none of them seemed to come close to—

“There you are!” Satoru bounded over to you, a slice of cake clutched in his hands. He held it out to you with a smile that indicated he had no idea the damage he’d just dealt. “I saved you a slice. It’s bad luck not to have a piece of cake on your birthday, you know.”

An angel in all senses of the word graced you then, because Lord knows you were about to give in once again to his casual smile and glittering eyes. Your friend took the paper plate from his hands, dropping it carelessly on the side table as she wrapped her arm around his elbow to pull him away.

“Gojo, come here. You have got to meet this dude, he looks just like you!” She excused with a fake smile, tugging harder as he looked back at you indecisively, but he eventually was dragged into the sea of people along with her.

Sighing in relief, you looked up at the popcorn ceiling with furrowed brows. You were determined now, if anything for the sake of your god-sent friend who had planned for you to have the perfect night, to at least attempt her fury-induced plan and find any viable man.

“You look like you need a drink, birthday girl.”

Your head instantly dropped back down, and you turned apprehensively to meet the gaze of the man before you. For a moment, you wondered if whatever higher being was out there was testing you, or maybe they were gracing you with possibly the most diabolical option you could ever dare to choose from in your bachelor line up. This would be too much, right?

“Geto.” You muttered in surprise, watching his near violet eyes regarding you curiously, a small and knowing smile gracing his calm features. He offered you a cup.

“Here, I mixed something up for you. Consider it a birthday gift. I was told at the last minute that this was a birthday party, so I didn’t bring you anything.”

You peered apprehensively into the plastic cup before glancing up at him with a raised brow. He tutted softly with a chuckle, bringing it up to take a swig himself before handing it back to you.

“I feel like I should be offended that you think I’d put something in your drink, but I suppose you can never be too careful.” Suguru shrugged, craning his neck around to look at the crowd of blubbering men you were surrounded by. With a playful smile, he leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I mean, look at half these circus monkeys.”

A genuine laugh finally found its way past your lips, and he smiled brightly at the sound. Nudging your shoulder, he nodded for you to follow him. You looked around for that familiar head of white hair, letting out a relieved sigh to see your friend still had him busy. The man she had introduced him to was quite possibly more of a yapper than Satoru was— and that was saying something.

She peered over at you subtly, having to control the drop of her jaw upon seeing who you had chosen from the line up. You shot her a concerned look as if to ask— is this really fucked up of me? But you knew it was. She only offered you a thumbs up and mischievous smile that said this is perfect. You saw Satoru follow her gaze, and you quickly averted your eyes to take a seat next to Geto on the couch he’d settled on. The white-haired man’s brows furrowed a bit as he watched you smile up at his friend, but he was quickly being pulled back into the conversation with this dude who would not shut the fuck up for the life of him.

Conversation with Suguru— as he insisted you call him— wasn’t nearly as forced as you had prepared yourself for. In fact, you had almost actually forgotten about the just friends debacle. It began to come back to you though, as he inched closer and closer to you as the night drew on, and you were reminded of what you had sat down with him for. So, despite the unease growing in the pit of your stomach, you didn’t lean back when he draped his arm on the cusion behind you, leaning in to smile smoothly at you.

“You’re in that physics class with Satoru, aren’t you?” He asked with a conscious smirk, following your gaze as it flittered occasionally over to the man in question, who had been stealing cautious glances your way for the past hour, seemingly never getting the chance to go butt in as he so desperately wanted to.

Your mind seemed to fizzle at the mention of him, and you snapped your gaze back to Suguru abruptly.

��Um, yeah,” You murmured, glancing down at the now nearly empty cup in your hands. The alcohol was beginning to catch up to you. In fact, it had begun catching up to you almost thirty minutes ago, and you could feel your tongue beginning to slip with each word you tried to pronounce. “He’s… he’s my term partner.”

“That’s all he is, huh?” The man hummed, the loose bang hanging from his sensuous bun swaying as he dipped his head down, a daring glimmer in his violet eyes. Your brow querked at his comment. “I only mean it's a shame that Satoru can’t get his head out of his ass, is all, but that’s okay.”

Your breath hitched as his silky hair brushed against your cheek, and suddenly all your confidence about this little attempted comeback was flying out the window. His eyes drooped mischievously, glancing down at your parted lips as his hand creeped steadily onto your knee. Suguru was kind— so kind, and witty, and intelligent, and undeniably handsome, but all you could think about was Satoru.

“Suguru,” You stammered, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach. Whether it was due to the alcohol coursing through your veins, or the proximity of the man that wasn’t the one who had been plaguing your mind for the past two months— you couldn’t tell. “I don’t want—”

“I know you don’t.” He reassured quietly, not daring to come any closer to you. That mischievous smile was slowly creeping back into his plush lips. “I don’t either, but sometimes Satoru needs a little bit of a push. Do you understand?”

The realization hit you like a splash of ice water. All this time, as you thought you were the cunning one, fooling Suguru while hoping to play Satoru, but you were the one being played. You blinked once, then twice, processing the hand of cards he was placing directly onto your unsuspecting lap.

“I can already feel that idiot’s eyes on the back of my head.” The dark-haired man explained amusedly, twirling a strand of your hair between his black-painted fingers. From the outside, you two looked entirely chummy, leaned into one another with your comparably smaller figure hidden behind his broad shoulders. His dark lashes fluttered up as he grinned conivingly at you. Suddenly, the hand that was tangled into your hair traced over your shoulders and carefully picked up the zodiac pendant hanging from your neck.

From the crowded kitchen, Satoru had been watching the two of you with bated breath. He was trying desperately to focus on the droning conversation he was being forced into, but the closer his friend leaned in to you, and the brighter you smiled up at him, the more incandescent the ball of heat in his chest burned. The guy in front of him was calling his name, but Suguru’s hands had grown too comfortable as they drifted across your supple skin. As another man’s fingers came around to taint the pendant on your neck— the one he’d given to you— the one he’d just clasped on his tongue as he felt you clench around his fingers, something within him snapped.

Shoving past the lingering group of drunken students in the kitchen, Satoru was a sight to be seen as he grasped firmly on his best friend’s shoulder, twisting him to face him.

“Satoru!” Suguru greeted cheerfully, as if he didn’t still have his grimy hand way too high up your leg. To make matters worse, the arm that had since been draped around the cusion settled down around your shoulders. “We were just—”

“What the fuck? That’s my—”

“Your friend, right?”

Suguru’s words pierced into his stomach with a sickening twist. His jaw seemed unable to hold his mouth shut anymore as irritation flooded his system. What was he going to say? He had no excusable reason to be so upset. His eyes drifted from his smug friend over to you, taking in your alcohol flushed cheeks and bleary eyes. The casual position you took next to his friend suddenly made him that much more nauseous.

“You’re drunk.” Satoru gritted through his teeth, gently grabbing your wrist in a firm hold to pull you up. As you stumbled up, he shot his friend a warning glare over your shoulder, indicating that they’d definitely be discussing this later. Suguru’s wolfish grin only grew wider.

“What are you doing? I was—” You grunted in aggravation as he shouldered through person after person, to lead you out the door. Once out in the hallway, you twisted your hand from his grasp. “I was talking to him.”

“Yeah, real nice conversation you two were having while you were shit-faced, and he was practically fucking you on the couch.”

“Fuck you, Satoru!” You spat. Despite your biting words, he was grasping at your shoulders to lead you back to your dorm room that was down the hall.

“Fuck me?” He laughed dryly as he dug into your bag to get your key and swing the door open.

“Yeah, fuck you!” You followed him in, jabbing a pointed finger into his back. His shoulders rose dramatically before drifting down, as if trying to calm the storm brewing in his chest. He turned to face you with a clenched jaw. “You don’t get to just swoop in and ruin things for—”

“He’s my friend!”

“Yeah? Well apparently so am I!” The tears you had sucked back up just hours prior finally made their grand reappearance, welling up embarrassingly in your darkly lined eyes. With a trembling lip, you pushed at his chest haphazardly. All the angry words he had planned to unleash upon you about how fucked up it was that you were getting so friendly with Suguru of all people got caught in his throat, and he watched with deflating shoulders as you broke down. A twisting sting was working its way back into his own chest. “You said it yourself, we’re just friends. So, if you could please stop acting like you give a shit and making me run in circles trying to understand what’s going on here, that would be really fucking nice, Gojo.”

It was becoming unbearable to look at him as you tore yourself down so vulnerably before him. Turning away, you furiously struggled to yank a makeup wipe out of its infuriatingly tight container before haphazardly wiping at your face and eyes. He called your name softly, but you shook your head.

“I don’t— I can’t be in a relationship, okay?”

His words that you assumed were meant to comfort you only served to embarrass you further as you tossed the dirty wipe in the little bin, moving to rummage in your closet for a sleep shirt. Those striking eyes followed your every movement, watching the way you pulled the baggy shirt over your torso before unzipping your dress from underneath it— hiding from him.

“Yeah, I can see that. Thanks for clearing that up.” You growled in frustration as you tried desperately to reach the zipper at the top of the now suffocating dress.

“Let me help—”

“Don’t touch me.” The command shot viscerally from your trembling lips, halting his movements toward you altogether. Had you not been so thoroughly embarrassed, heart utterly ripped up on the floor alongside your bruised pride, you would have felt guilty for the pained expression that flooded his beautiful features. Ignoring him, you finally yanked the zipper down and stepped out of the dress that flooded around your feet. “Go home. I’m back in my dorm, and I’m by myself— just like you wanted.”

“Quit it, that’s not what I wanted, and you know that.”

“Do I know that? Because one day you’re telling me not to fall in love with you, and then you’re buying me lunch every week and remembering shit about me that I don’t even remember. You fucked me in the bathroom at my birthday party then told everyone we’re just friends, but god forbid I talk to someone else, right?” You were stepping closer to him with each charged indictment, traitorous tears of frustration slipping down your cheeks. There was a storm brewing behind his eyes, ready to snap with each jab you threw at him, because he knew you were right. “I don’t care what you have to tell yourself. I can’t do it to myself anymore. So, if you won’t cut me from the fucking ceiling then I’ll do it myself. I’m done.”

“I’ve got a fucking kid, okay?” Satoru yelled, throwing his hands out at his sides in exasperation. He couldn’t take it anymore. It felt as though you were reaching into his chest with those delicate little hands he’d come to love just to rub salt in the already harsh reality of his circumstances. “Two of ‘em. You ready to take that on too? Huh?”

Wide eyes stared back at him, unblinking as he panted angrily at you. The dumbstuck expression on your face only served to frustrate him further, knowing it would always come to this. It wouldn’t have been fair to you, he knew that. Just because it was a responsibility he had chosen to take on at his ripe age, didn’t mean it should be tossed upon someone else as well. Satoru didn’t have the luxury of tossing around his feelings flippantly, even if he let this one go too far.

Sighing defeatedly, he moved to sit on the edge of your bed as your mouth opened and closed, attempting to process all that he’d just dumped on you. He pulled the glasses off his face to rub at his eyes.

“They’re… they’re not mine. Not actually, anyway.” He explained quietly, staring down at his lap. “But they don’t have anyone else, so… I take care of ‘em.”

“What?” You finally breathed in disbelief. In all honesty though, it made perfect sense. It explained all his sudden disappearances, all the mysterious phone calls, and fashionably late entrances. How could a guy like Satoru Gojo be taking care of two kids though? “Why— I mean, how?”

He glanced up at your mind-boggled babbling.

“My family thoroughly fucked over their father back in the day. He lost a lot of money because of a shady business deal my dad talked him into. I know it wasn’t me, but… I just felt partly responsible, y’know? They’re my parents, sure, but I feel like their name haunts me. Like I’ve gotta live with all the shit they’ve done— like I’m just as complacent. When I found out their dad had left… I just couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t do anything to help them.”

“Satoru…” You muttered in shock, slowly moving to sit beside him. It was incredible to you though, how he had managed to juggle everything all on his own while maintaining such presence and academic excellence at the university. “That’s… that’s a lot.”

“Yeah, no shit. The kids card isn’t exactly a chick magnet.” He tried to laugh to ease some of the tension that had filled the room, but it came out dry. His insides felt like mush.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I thought…” His hand came up to nervously scratch at his neck, and you realized you had never seen him caught off guard like this. Satoru was always so confident and collected. Now, as he spared you a sidelong glance, as if too embarrassed to look at you head on, he seemed so vulnerable. The humility shifted his features, made his gaze softer and his expression less intimidating. You watched him gulp apprehensively and slide his glasses back on, as if they would shield him somehow. “I thought you would just be something casual. I didn’t think I’d care so much. I’m sorry.”

He moved to get up, but your hand caught his wrist, holding his hand down to the bed.

“I think what you’re doing for those kids is amazing, Satoru.” You emphasized as your brows knit together furiously. Even behind his spacious lenses, you could see the way his eyes widened at your authoritative tone. He needed to understand it though— how utterly wrong you had been about him, and how wrong he was about himself. “What happened to them isn’t your fault, but you’re helping them because you’re a good person. It doesn’t matter what your last name is.”

For the first time since you’d met him, his neck began to flush, the blood racing up his cheeks and to his ears. He quickly looked back down at his lap. You smiled softly at the sight. It felt nice to not be on the receiving end of such humility for once. His fingers twitched under yours, and you realized you’d never let go of his hand.

“You deserve every bit of happiness that I know you bring to those kids. Stop punishing yourself for your last name. And if that’s the only reason we’re just friends then… I think that’s bullshit.”

His head shot up to meet your gaze with an alarming swiftness. The tips of his snowy hair swayed across his forehead as he shook his head.

“I can’t ask you to take that on too. You have enough on your plate without me adding to it.”

“You’re not asking me for anything. I’m offering to be there for you through it.” You leaned closer to him, lacing your fingers through his. His hand squeezed against yours appreciatively. With a soft smile, you nudged his shoulder gently. “C’mon, aren’t you the one who’s always telling me I need to loosen up. Live a little, dad.”

That familiar, cocky smile made its way back onto his plush lips, and he craned his neck around to peer at you in amusement.

“You into that sort of thing, pretty girl? Cause I so would’ve worked that angle forever ago if I knew.”

Tutting softly, you shoved at his face, trying to disguise the smile that couldn’t seem to stop growing infectiously across your cheeks. Your heart soared as he ran a thumb across your knuckles.

“Do you have a picture of them?” You asked softly, unsure if you were crossing a line.

His face seemed to light up in an excited grin though, and he nodded ardently, yanking his phone out of his pocket to scroll through his photos. Finally finding a suitable one, he eagerly shoved his phone into your face. You couldn’t help but laugh affectionately at his enthusiasm, pulling the phone back so you could inspect the photo before you.

The glaring, young boy in the photo looked as though he wished he was anywhere but standing beside the animated white haired man who towered over him with a wide smile that squinted his eyes as he held a peace sign out in front of him. The girl to the left of him appeared a bit older, and a hell of a lot more lively than her younger brother it seemed. She leaned politely into Satoru with her hands clasped behind her back and a kind smile gracing her young features. From the bits of the background you could make out, it looked like they were in some sort of ice cream parlor.

“He looks just like me, doesn’t he?” Satoru retorted with a theatrically dreamy sigh. Raising a brow at him, you smirked before handing him back his phone.

“Sure, when you get past that murderous look in his eyes, I’m sure he’s got your smile!”

“I’m raising a little serial killer, aren’t I?”

You giggled at his fearful tone, and his tense features settled into a fond smile. Reaching up hesitantly, he allowed you to pull the glasses off his face. His gaze fluttered over your face, leaning closer to you until his breath fanned over your face.

“You’re not really into Suguru, right?”

“That depends,” You whispered, concealing your tickled smile at his jealousy. “Are we still just friends?”

Satoru leaned forward until your back hit the bed with a soft bounce, grazing his hand around your neck to toy with your necklace.

“If you’ve got friends that can make love to you like I’m about to, we’re gonna have some problems, pretty girl.”

masterlist | requests | talk to me ❤︎

I love hearing everyone's thoughts! ◝⠀(ᵔᵕᵔ)⠀◜

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leclerc-s · 2 months ago

Text

mastermind - part one

series masterlist // next

MONACO 2024

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton, logansargeant and others

aurorabutton a little pre-monaco grand prix dump featuring father dearest being a menace and saturn being the best boy ever

tagged: jensonbutton

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fernandoalo_oficial your father has never looked better than he does in that picture

aurorabutton that's what i said but he complained about the horrible photo for an hour fernandoalo_oficial que dramático 😂

user1 aurora what driver are you rooting for this weekend?

aurorabutton the hometown hero of course! logansargeant so fuck me i guess? aurorabutton tell james to stop being a pussy and give you the same upgrades as alex and then we can talk about me rooting for you logansargeant williams admin, she's joking i swear aurorabutton no, i'm not williamsracing 🤨🤨

jensonbutton have kids they said, it'll be great they said, turns out they lied.

aurorabutton i'm a delight to be around father!

user2 saturn, leo, and roscoe meet up when?

user3 the three most spoiled pooches in the world becoming besties would be iconic.

user4 aurora, what do you think about lewis moving to ferrari?

aurorabutton it's about time someone got rid of that fraud at ferrari user5 close enough, welcome back untrained pr charles leclerc aurorabutton that may be the greatest compliment i've ever received

maxverstappen1 do my nights of babysitting you mean nothing? you can't even cheer for me?

aurorabutton YOU WON ALMOST EVERY RACE LAST YEAR EXCEPT FOR 2? STOP WHINING? mickschumacher yeah max, stop whining maxverstappen1 i hate both of you user6 love that she's choosing to ignore singapore. aurorabutton singapore never happened last year?? what are you talking about?? i don't remember that race happening??

user7 poor max catching strays from aurora and mick

aurorabutton poor max cries to marley and me maxverstappen1 shut the fuck up? jensonbutton don't speak to my child that way verstappen maxverstappen1 SHE JUST SENT ME A TEXT CALLING ME AN UGLY RAT? aurorabutton snitch.

natalia_leclerc so this is my fellow 55 hater?

aurorabutton oh my god. it's me! i'm a carlos sainz hater! natalia_leclerc jenson, i'm stealing your child. she's mine now oscarpiastri wow, in a hurry to replace me already? you just got me? jensonbutton please, take her. aurorabutton wow dad. just say you hate me or something

aurora button so who's the kid hanging out with charles leclerc?

mick schumacher kid? what kid?

aurora button the one that looks like a lost puppy?? wearing a bright red shirt?

max verstappen that's literally just ollie?? why??

aurora button why is he wearing bright red shirt?? he does know this is the red bull garage right?? not the ferrari garage?? max verstappen he drives for prema in f2?? why do you care?? aurora button i was just confused?? i was going to accuse him of espionage for sainz

mick schumacher wait a damn minute

mick schumacher YOU KNOW WHAT PREMA SHIRTS LOOK LIKE! YOU USED TO WATCH ME RACE!! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS ABOUT??

aurora button i did?? i don't remember that??

max verstappen now hold on just a fucking minute... aurora middle name button...

aurora button what?? mick schumacher i may be an idiot but i'm an idiot with a girlfriend max verstappen i also have a girlfriend but i'm confused if we're thinking the same thing aurora button you have a mom not a girlfriend. max verstappen STOP CALLING HER THAT! aurora button the entire internet thinks so too...

mick schumacher don't change the subject!!

mick schumacher i know what you are aurora button

aurora button what?

max verstappen enough of this cryptid shit. you like oliver.

aurora button what the fuck? who the fuck is oliver?

mick schumacher deflection.. interesting..

max verstappen OLLIE!! YOU LIKE OLLIE!!

aurora button wow all that from a text asking who the fuck that was?? he could be pulling a spygate??

mick schumacher you're an idiot.

aurora button fuck you guys. i'm never talking to you two again.

max verstappen okay sure. we'll see how long that lasts. i give you two hours.

mick schumacher i give her one

aurorabutton posted new stories

someone clearly ruined his childhood if he's doing this shit as a grown man oh great, it's the american weirdo might be surrounded by weirdos (logan and max) but at least my shoes look cute

lewishamilton replied to your story

lewishamilton be honest, did you force him to do that? aurorabutton i'm flabbergasted you would think that lowly of me lewis lewishamilton i know you aurora. you used to put fish in my drivers room when you were a kid aurorabutton okay fine, i did do that to you, but no i didn't force him to do that. he did that all on his own actually. i don't why. must have something to do with the childhood trauma he has or something.

alex albon replied to your story

alex_albon why is logan like that? aurorabutton i don't know. my theory is that he was dropped on his head as a child alex_albon hmm, that could be it. aurorabutton by the way, is lily available to grab lunch? alex_albon i knew you were going to steal my girlfriend this weekend at least once. aurorabutton oh albono, it'll be more than once

natalia_leclerc replied to your story

natalia_leclerc cute shoes, where'd you get them? aurorabutton excuse me while i go scream... natalia_leclerc i'm sorry?? aurorabutton i literally love you. you're my favorite wag. natalia_leclerc thank you. love you too? aurorabutton holy shit, i can die peacefully.

SPAIN 2024

liked by oscarpiastri, natalia_leclerc, olliebearman and others

aurorabutton españa, i came, i saw, i yelled at (1) annoying spanish man. oh and i met this weird guy in red bull gear who said he drove cars in circles?

tagged: maxverstappen1

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user7 acting as if she didn’t break f1 twitter with her revelation

user8 serving cunt must be a button trait

user9 alternate caption could be: españa, i came, i saw, i exposed (1) annoying spanish man for being in love with his ex-teammates wife and how hard he tried to break them up so she could run to him. oh and here's max verstappen i guess ❤︎ by pierregasly, aurorabutton, alex_albon and others

user9 oh these guys are so messy and i am here for it

maxverstappen1 fuck you too i guess. that's the last time i ever let you crash in my room because all the hotels were booked up and your lazy ass couldn't decide if she wanted to go to the spanish gp or not

user10 damn max no need to expose aurora like that aurorabutton we both know that's a lie maxie taxie user11 did you guys share a bed or something? maxverstappen1 i slept on the couch, i'm not weird like that aurorabutton i've known this nerd since i was kid, kelly can keep him... user11 i can't tell if this is a diss towards kelly or not

jensonbutton i see we're excluding the text message where you told me, 'that ugly spaniard is going to catch these fists.'

fernandoalo_oficial that better not have been about me? aurorabutton i can't believe you would think this way about me fernando? you are the handsome spaniard my father is in love with. jensonbutton as the children say, why am i catching strays? aurorabutton YOU'RE THE ONE WHO ADMITTED ON THE INTERNET THAT YOU WERE IN LOVE WITH HIM?? I'M JUST REPEATING WHAT YOU SAID??

user12 she lives for reminding us that she hates carlos sainz

user13 has she ever said why she hates carlos? other than the shady as fuck shit he and his family do? aurorabutton he used to be apart of our nepo-babies group chat, but after we (max, mick, and i) realized he always blamed other people for the shit he did we (i) kicked him out and we haven't spoken since. cut to a year later and all this shit with charles is happening at ferrari. user13 oh. that explains it

oscarpiastri not pictured is her jumping on logan's back and clinging like a koala

aurorabutton good times. 10/10 experience logansargeant it may not be pictured here but boy is it doing rounds on twitter and tiktok

olliebearman the weird guy in red bull gear kicked me out of his drivers room for 'stinking up the place' whatever that means

maxverstappen1 YOU WERE EATING A RAW ONION IN MY ROOM?! olliebearman listen there was 50 pounds on the line. mama didn't raise a bitch verstappen. maxverstappen1 what kind of idiot would bet you 50 pounds for that? paularon_ jeez, i wonder who would do that... maxverstappen1 you're both idiots

AHEAD OF SILVERSTONE 2024

liked by olliebearman, charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel and others

aurorabutton the world's biggest carlos sainz haters finally met and in the words of kendrick himself, "it's always been about love and hate. now let me say i'm the biggest hater. " i bet that jobless guy just shit himself seeing this on instagram

tagged: natalia_leclerc, carlossainz55

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jensonbutton is this what the kids call messy?

aurorabutton yes father, this is me being messy jensonbutton i've never been prouder to call you my daughter aurorabutton so fuck my academic achievements i guess jensonbutton you know what i mean

user14 tagging him is a new level of messy

user15 no one knows messy like aurora button. she grew up during peak brocedes civil war, she knows messy the best

user16 SEB LIKED THIS??

user17 of course he did, he's team charles all the way

natalia_leclerc i don't think i've ever had a gossip session quite like ours and i know pierre and esteban

pierregasly we are not that messy estebanocon we ARE that messy

user18 oh that's mother and daughter. i'm sorry jenson, she's no longer your daughter, that's a leclerc now.

user19 jenson button losing his daughter to the leclercs was not on my bingo card but honestly seems about right.

carlossainz55 very mature

aurorabutton oh now you wanna talk maturity? weren't you the one telling the media i was a nepo-baby when EVERYONE knows that move you pulled on charles in spain was stupid? logansargeant maturity is not trying to make a move on your teammate's girlfriend oscarpiastri maturity is knowing to take no for an answer patriciooward maturity is not crying to the media when your teammate races better than you olliebearman maturity is not trying to break up your former teammate and his girlfriend all because you can't take no for an answer. good thing robert doesn't have a girlfriend for you to try to manipulate or steal charles_leclerc can you just shut the fuck up for once in your life? natalia_leclerc what can we say, we really are the biggest haters. go tell that to the spanish media arthur_leclerc this is new levels of embarrassing carlos. bensantos_ruiz go cry to your dad about that user20 the leclerc-ruiz family gagged him

ollie bearman-leclerc betrayal doesn't even begin to cover what i feel

ollie bearman-leclerc mother hates me

ollie bearman-leclerc i've been disowned in the cruelest way

oscar piastri-leclerc what is this guy yapping about now??

logan sargeant-leclerc oh my god he's so dramatic

pato o'ward-leclerc it's okay, we know he gets it from dad

charles leclerc what's wrong ollie?? and fuck you pato

natalia leclerc ollie, what happened? charles, don't speak to our son that way

ollie bearman-leclerc YOU HAPPENED!! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!!!

natalia leclerc me? what did i do??

ollie bearman-leclerc you know what you did pato o'ward-leclerc ollie, i don't think she does that's why she's asking. ollie bearman-leclerc oh

natalia leclerc por dios, igualito a su papa

logan sargeant-leclerc update, i figured out why ollie is salty

natalia leclerc wait, IS THIS ABOUT AURORA?!

oscar piastri-leclerc oh my god. all of this over a girl?

ollie bearman-leclerc SHE'S NOT A GIRL! SHE'S THE LOVE OF MY LIFE! logan sargeant-leclerc you tell jenson that yet?

ollie bearman-leclerc i don't understand why i couldn't be invited to hang out with you two? i feel excluded

charles leclerc to be fair, they didn't invite me either? aurora said it was a 'girl's only day lechair' which is quite rude but okay

ollie bearman-leclerc YOU TALKED TO HER? DIG THE KNIFE IN DEEPER WHY DON'T YOU?

charles leclerc you are so dramatic oliver

ollie bearman-leclerc YOU LEFT YOUR DREAM TEAM BECAUSE YOUR ASS WAS GOING THROUGH A MIDLIFE CRISIS!

charles leclerc MIDLIFE CRISIS?? HOW OLD DO YOU THINK I AM??

pato o'ward-leclerc at least 69. i have to say, you aged beautifully. logan sargeant-leclerc thought you were at least 38 oscar piastri-leclerc 50??

charles leclerc fuck everyone here but my wife

ollie bearman-leclerc i mean, you have done that, that's why she's pregnant. natalia leclerc OLIVER! logan sargeant-leclerc let him speak 🗣️ oscar piastri-leclerc you're booing him but he's right??

charles leclerc you're all grounded.

pato o'ward-leclerc I DIDN'T EVEN SAY ANYTHING?? charles leclerc i know your ass laughed patricio pato o'ward-leclerc this is why i am so glad i'm an indycar driver

aurora button max emilian verstappen. who the fuck is the room next to you??

max verstappen charles is? i think? please tell me he's not having sex with natalia again. i've suffered though that enough

aurora button no, but there's screaming?? and i think they're watching bluey? i heard the themesong

mick schumacher you think or you know?

aurora button i don't appreciate the sass schumacher

max verstappen just asked charles, nat and the children are in their hotel room. they are in fact watching bluey

aurora button great, i'm going over. i want to watch bluey and i'm alone.

mick schumacher why are you rooming with max? you could've gotten your own room?

aurora button i tried, but they were all booked up. max's room has two beds, so i'm crashing with him.

mick schumacher oh, so are you going over because you're lonely or because you like ollie?

aurora button i don't like him. he is cute but i don't like him.

max verstappen is this- this is the first time aurora sophia button is admitting she finds someone cute?

mick schumacher your middle name is sophia? aurora button no...

max verstappen you don't know her middle name?

mick schumacher i'm sure i do know it but i always forget it? half the time i think your full name is maximilian and not max emilian aurora button we can only blame jos verstappen for that name max verstappen my mum named me.

aurora button everything is always jos' fault. sophie is an angel.

mick schumacher preach sister

max verstappen both of you can go die

aurora button aww, i'm telling my dad

max verstappen die.

mick schumacher are you two sure you aren't siblings?

aurora button bitch please, i'm way prettier than sid verstappen over there.

max verstappen shut the fuck up barney

mick schumacher i think she's more of a blues clues

aurora button i'm definitely a power ranger you fake bitches

max verstappen no, you're the one little alien in that movie with the boy. the one with the long fingers.

aurora button I AM NOT FUCKING ET YOU BITCH!

mick schumacher oh my god. one day of peace is all i ask for.

ollie bearman-leclerc WHY IS SHE HERE? WHO INVITED HER??

natalia leclerc max is in a meeting and she was alone oliver. be nice.

oscar piastri-leclerc HE'S ACTUALLY STUTTERING?? SOMEONE RECORD THIS SHIT!!

charles leclerc RECORD HIM! I WANT TO SEE THIS!! I CAN'T BELIEVE I'M MISSING THIS!!

pato o'ward-leclerc RECORD HIM! SEND THE GOODS OVER PIASTRI-LECLERC!

logan sargeant-leclerc HE'S BLUSHING! HE'S REDDER THAN A TOMATO!

natalia leclerc i think it's adorable.

natalia leclerc and he just ran out of the room.

ollie bearman-leclerc all of you are fake, except for mom.

charles leclerc the fuck did i do?

ollie bearman-leclerc YOU ASKED FOR VIDEO PROOF?!

pato o'ward-leclerc ▸ ı|||||||ıı||||ııı||ı

ollie bearman-leclerc IS THAT AN AUDIO OF YOU LAUGHING AT ME??

logan sargeant-leclerc actual tears in my eyes right now. this shit is hilarious

natalia leclerc currently questioning what the fuck is wrong with you boys??

ollie bearman-leclerc they're fucking bullying me. oscar piastri-leclerc it's the least you deserve as the youngest. ollie bearman-leclerc i'm not the youngest, leo is logan sargeant-leclerc we're not going to bully a dog ollie, we're not that cruel

aurora button i'm like 90% sure he hates me?? i never did anything to him and he hates me??

mick schumacher and what gave you that idea baby button??

aurora button he ran out of the room when i got here?

max verstappen charles has been laughing at his phone for 5 minutes. and i'm pretty sure he just played an audio of someone laughing like a maniac.

mick schumacher do you think the leclerc family has a groupchat?

max verstappen i know they do. natalia added us to it and i'm like 95% sure she made a new one after. aurora button AND YOU DIDN'T ADD ME TO IT?! max verstappen you're not even close to being a leclerc mick schumacher yeah aurora, he's charles' mistress

max verstappen maybe if you dated ollie i could add you to the group chat

aurora button oh my god i don't like him!

mick schumacher then why do you care what he thinks?

aurora button i have this thing where i need to be universally liked by everyone

max verstappen what about carlos??

aurora button carlos can go stub his pinky toe on every possible surface he can. aurora button i hope both sides of his pillow are always warm.

mick schumacher why do you have such an intense hatred for carlos?

aurora button the question is why don't you??

max verstappen he called her dad a mid-driver one time in a conversation. he tried to play it off as a joke but aurora's hated him ever since.

aurora button that shit wasn't a joke and at least my dad is a world champion. you don't see me joking about how jos verstappen was a shit driver and max is better now do you?

max verstappen you do that constantly. you tell me that all the time

mick schumacher in her defense, your dad was a shit driver compared to you. like me with my dad aurora button you were stuck with fucking haas, nikita, and gunther. how the fuck were you expected to improve?? max verstappen you were shit because you were with haas. if the car was the way it was this year i'm sure you would do great

mick schumacher you guys are great when you aren't yelling at each other

max verstappen i've become reluctant to the fact that she's never going away.

aurora button he secretly likes me

¡taglist!

@lesliiieeeee @kissesandmartinis @vellicora @blushmimi @scuderiadevils @moofli509 @girlbossnessa @scarletwidow3000 @hopenshaw

¡leclerc-s speaks!

part one to mastermind let's go!! hope you guys enjoy this story. now, ollie bearman is a menace to society, pass it on. yes i did use tweets from karma because they were important to the plot.

¡disclaimer!

this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #mastermind series #karma spinoff #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #ollie bearman x female oc

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