#and i am excited to take this small step towards it!

[deliwrites]

𝕐𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕆𝕦𝕣𝕤 // Saja Boys & Huntr/x

// DATE // 30th of June 2025 → 1st of July 2025 // PAIRING // Huntr/x x Fem!Reader x Saja Boys // WARNING // !!!Mention of a su*c*de attempt through song lyrics!!!, Morally gray actions, involuntary chocking, harassment, more award show shit that I struggle to write xD // WORDS // 3.3k+ // SUMMARY // At a music awards show, Y/n unexpectedly wins a coveted prize, thrusting her into the spotlight with a powerful, raw performance that captivates everyone — but behind the scenes, tensions simmer as old wounds and unseen dangers threaten to unravel her hard-won success.

// Part One // Part Two // Part Three //

“There are only a few awards left to be given to some truly incredible artists!” Minjun says almost like he’s sad it’s nearly over.

“Oh absolutely,” Seyeon nods enthusiastically. “You know what I look most forward to?”

“What’s that, Seyeon?”

“The performance the next winner will be giving us!”

“Oh my, you’re right!” Minjun gasps in playful realization. “And it’s for none other than the ‘Heartfelt Voice Award’! I hope you guys are ready to cry. Because I sure am!”

“Wait…” panic settles into my chest. “Can- can you guys-“ I can't finish as breathing becomes to difficult. Even if it wasn’t certain yet, I couldn’t stop the panic at having to perform so unexpectedly.

“What’s wrong?” Romance asks, noticing the fast rising and falling of my chest.

“-Undo it.”

“Undo what?” Miras voice is laced with worry.

“I- I,” I stammer, my eyes not leaving the hosts as an envelope is brought to them. Watching the envelope like I can see through it and read the name on it.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Rumi pulls me into her chest, grounding me. “Take a deep breath,” she takes one waiting for me to take one with her. Then gently lets it out, I do the same but mine is shaky. “Try again.”

“I can’t perform,” I whisper, voice trembling, shaking my head finally turning to look at her. “I can’t do this.”

“Sure you can!” Jinu says with a confident grin on his face. I just shake my head.

“Y/N!!” The shout of my name startles me. I freeze, eyes returning to the stage. My picture presented on the big screen. The hosts look somewhat puzzled. As do I.

There is polite clapping as Rumi gently nudges me to get up. I leave my small clutch with them, looking back at them as I hesitantly start walking. “You’ve got this!” Zoey says giving me two thumbs up, beaming.

“She wasn’t supposed to win,” it’s a grumble that she doesn’t hear while she slowly makes her way to the stage. But the others do. Eight pairs of eyes turn toward the voice. Jaewon. Staring daggers at the back of his head. None of them say anything… but the message is clear. Standing up, clapping louder than anyone else in the room. A push. A warning. And she needs it. Every last bit of it.

My legs feel like they might give out with every step I take, my heart still bounding in my chest. Once I reach the stage and am given the award I awkwardly stand in front of the mic. “Thank you, I-“ my words falter, my eyes meeting a glaring Jaewon. But then excited movement from above him brings a smile to my face. A wave, encouraging smiles and a nod that says ‘you can do this’ from Jinu. “I didn’t expect to win tonight,” I say honestly. “But it is truly an honor, thank you so much to those who listen to my songs, support me and especially voted tonight,” looking at the award as the words settle within me. “Really… thank you,” Stepping back from the mic I’m met with more applause a bit more sincere this time.

“Let me take that real quick,” Seyeon says gently, taking the award from my hands. “Good luck!” With that she and Minjun disappear at the side of the stage. The lights dim just enough to shift the mood, and then my song starts playing. Closing my eyes, I take one last breath and sing.

Finally hit the ground I'm at the bottom now Never thought I could be this low Felt like falling down an endless hole No, I don't see the light And I don't hear God Crawling in the dark Now my limbs are cold Screaming out "Help" but it just echoes

A silence falls over the room. Everyone listening with bated breath. All consumed by the unexpected depth of my voice. By the ache woven into every note, the weight of words no one dares to speak out loud.

Only one way out of here I don't think I can reach it Everything I hold dear Erased by all of my demons My sorry is sincere I've just lost all of my reasons Reasons left to stay

When I open my eyes, I’m stunned to find I’ve become the center of attention. No one is talking, everyone is quite literally staring. Wide eyed, stunned faces, confused but pleasantly surprised. As if they expected a whisper but got a storm.

So, if this is goodbye Please, don't count my cry as a sin No, I don't wanna die But it keeps getting harder to live And I put up a fight But now I've got nothing to give So, if this is goodbye, goodbye, goodbye I hope someday to see you again

The song is emotional and raw. It captures everyone in the room even the ones who didn’t know her before this very moment. She had already captured their attention when she walked in. Clumsy, quiet, walking with uncertainty. But hearing her sing this song live, it hit different.

It’s like a string got pulled tight between them and her. A need to protect. To have. To understand. And something more dangerous; an obsession.

There's nothing you could've said Nothing you could've done different It was always between me and my head Never meant to hurt you in the process But I just can't keep holding on Wish I could believe that things will get better Wish I could just flip a switch in my mind Then I could fix how I feel altogether Then I could mean it when I say I'm fine It's never that easy and neither is life Don't think I wanted to leave you behind I tried, I tried, I tried

This song, it wasn’t for Jaewon. That much was obvious. But who was it to?

The answer.

Herself.

So, if this is goodbye Please, don't count my cry as a sin No, I don't wanna die But it keeps getting harder to live And I put up a fight But now I've got nothing to give Nothing, nothing So, if this is goodbye, goodbye, goodbye I hope someday to see you again If this is goodbye I'll see you If this is goodbye Open up my eyes I don't know where I am And everything is blurry My mom's holding my hand Turns out I was in a hurry But God had other plans He said my goodbye was early Now I've got a second chance

I stood in pure silence for a moment. Everyone shocked at the emotional impact this song had on them. In the end a couple of tears were shed.

“That… was…” Seyeon enters the stage once more. Tissue in hand. Letting out a sigh as she shakes her head struggling to find the right word. “… beautiful,” is what she settles for. That seems to put the room back in motion as applause suddenly, loudly rings around the room.

Startled, tears gather in my eyes. “Thank you,” I smile through tears.

“This award,” Minjun starts as he too returns. Holding up my award. “Is extremely well deserved,” I thank them once more before exiting the stage. Climbing my way back up the stairs. I’m stared at, even get a bow here and there as I pass them. I bow back like I don’t deserve their respect.

When I get back to my seat Zoey and Rumi are crying while Mira is obviously holding back her tears.

“That was so… ethereal,” Zoey sniffles. Standing up to pull me in a hug. “You deserved this award! Even if you didn’t think so.”

Taking her phone from her clutch while she talked to the girls was almost too easy. Even when she sat back down she hadn’t noticed how Baby easily manipulated the device to unlock with his demon powers. First he found her phone number, saving it in his own phone.

The causality of how he handled it and the guys keeping her distracted made it go unnoticed for much longer. The guys had quickly noticed what their maknae was up to. Making sure he would get it done. Easily installing spying software, hiding it from her, but making sure it worked from his own device. It wasn’t about invading her privacy. It was about keeping her safe.

By the time she reached for her clutch again, it was back in it place, exactly where she thought she’d left it. Missing the pointed look Mira gave the maknae as if to tell him he better share what he finds.

“Wow,” I sigh, grabbing my clutch, using it as a fan. “Thank you,” glancing both ways trying to meet their eyes. As I thank them for their - undeserved - support. “I would not have been able to do that if it wasn’t for you,” a blush tinting my cheeks but I blame it on the heat in here. In reality there is air conditioning in the room making sure everyone was comfortable.

“Of course,” Abby smirks, but I know he’s genuine.

“It’s nothing, you needed a push,” Mira shrugs casually. “You deserved it.”

“Thank you, anyway,” I make sure they know I’m being sincere. “But I really need the bathroom now,” I chuckle awkwardly receiving understanding chuckles back. Getting up I follow the signs to the bathroom.

Inside the bathroom, I take a moment to freshen up a bit, I look at myself in the mirror. A genuine smile still playing on my lips. “I did it,” I mutter, barely believing my own words. “I actually won.”

Taking my phone from my clutch, my notification wall is full. There are new followers on every social media platform I have. Mentions of my performance. Clips, screenshots, reactions. And of course all the posts the Saja Boys and Huntr/x created to support me and my song.

Mentions of my other songs too. People finding them, loving them. It makes me feel warm. Loved. Seen.

I exit the bathroom relax, distracted even. A bit too distracted apparently when I get the air literally knocked out of me. Pushed into the wall right at the archway to the venue hall.

“Wha-”

“Shut up!” I recognize the voice immediately. Anxiety lighting a fire in my being. Eyes wide, they find his. His face is contorted in anger. “You weren’t supposed to win,” his hand balls into a fist, rising, but he knows he’s still in public. Lowering the fist he grips my upper arm instead. Tight enough to create bruising, making me squirm and whine.

“Let go of me,” my voice is small. The fear in my eyes only making him chuckle.

“No, this is how you should have looked,” he continues, voices nearly growling the words at me. “I orchestrated this. Made sure you were nominated for a song no one even knew. Made it so you had to sit with those you looked up to,” tears form in my eyes. I knew it... I knew I shouldn’t have been here. His other hand lands on my shoulder, thumb laying at the base of my neck. Pressing hard, making it uncomfortable to talk or swallow.

It seems my arms decide that they now have the strength to try and push him away. But it doesn’t work. He’s stronger than me.

“You should have ran out of here, crying! Like the weakling you are,” his voice stays the same, unfazed by my trembling attempts to push him away from me. “How did you win?” there is real anger laced with genuine curiosity. Thumb pressing harder onto my throat.

“Because she deserves it,” the voice stuns both me and Jaewon. It’s Mystery. Before I can react, Jaewon quickly pulls me to his chest. I cough with the pressure now gone from my throat. He acts like he didn’t just have a bruising grip on me. Like all he wanted to do was hug me as a way to congratulate me on the win. Even if it was all a lie to protect his image.

The way Mystery was positioned had given Jaewon the false idea that no one had caught his cruel actions towards her. But Mystery knew. They all knew, even Huntr/x who were currently performing unable to protect what was theirs. Even if she didn’t know it yet.

“Oh, I wasn’t accusing,” Jaewon continues, feigning sincerity, but the sharp tone in his voice betrays him. “Congratulations on your win, Y/n,” the way he says my name. It's sharp and I know it’s a warning. Mystery takes my hand, pulling me closer to him so I’m not in Jaewon’s reach.

“Thanks,” it’s forced and breathless as it leaves my lips. I let Mystery lead me back to our seats. Trying to fake my confidence like nothing happened.

They all know something happened, but don’t point it out. From the way she walks and sits down stiffly. Trying to portray that genuine happiness she showed earlier. Only it doesn’t reach her eyes. They know now is not the time to talk about what they all witnessed. Instead, they watch quietly, guarding her in their own way.

The rest of the award show luckily goes by swimmingly. I hate to have to say goodbye to the eight who already meant a lot to me. Now more than I ever thought possible.

But I knew this was probably the first and only time I would get to talk to them. At least for a good while. The girls gave me a hug, squeezing me tightly. Letting me know once more that I deserved the win. I’m not sure how to say goodbye to the guys. Jinu just tsk’s, and pulls me in for a hug as well.

Even if he makes it seem nonchalant he can’t stop himself from breathing in her hair as she hugs him back.

Mystery makes sure to squeeze tightly, like a reminder that he’s there for her.

Baby playfully rolls his eyes at her, poking her sides to make her jump before giving his own hug. Gently petting the top of her head.

Abby smirks, teasing her. Saying that she only wants a hug so she can feel his abs. She chuckles genuinely, making all their hearts melt.

Last is Romance who will gladly take a hug, lingering for longer than needed. Placing a peck on her soft cheek, causing a soft flush to her face.

Missing the way the girls glare at the boys with envy.

My manager had been surprisingly quiet the next day. Normally he would start calling me the moment the sun woke.

Now it’s Monday, two days after the K-pop Rising Stars Awards. Still, it’s radio silence from my manager. I had messaged him myself to ask if he saw my win. He hadn’t even read it. Nothing.

With Luminara Entertainment right around the corner from the dorms, I headed there early. I needed answers. Arriving around 8 am, I waved at Juna at the reception desk. She smiled gently but there was something almost rehearsed in it. Shrugging off the feeling I head for the elevator making my way to Kyungsoo’s office.

Outside the office door I heard voices. So I at least knew he was in. Knocking softly on the wooden door, I wait. The conversation grew silent immediately. When Kyungsoo finally cracked the door open, his eyes barely met mine.

“Hey, I messaged, but I didn’t hear from you,” I tell him, confusion clear on my face. Partially because he’s just peeking out of a small slit in the door but mostly because I hadn’t heard from him.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry,” I can tell immediately that it’s not sincere. Voice flat, lacking his usually somewhat warmth. “I’ve just been really busy. Just continue working on your songs in the studio. I’ll check in with you soon,” before I could respond the door closed again.

Busy or not, it was clear I wasn’t a priority. He didn’t even congratulate me. Tension rose in my shoulders like something was up but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

His phone dings with a new familiar chime. Y/n opened her phone. Picking up his own from where it rested on the coffee table.

They had been given an off day after holding a concert on Sunday the day after the Award show. The five of them relaxing a bit. Though that wasn’t the only thing going on.

Mystery had done a full deep dive on Jaewon, turns out the only reason NIOR7 was doing as well as they were. Was because of daddy’s money.

Jinu, who sat next to Baby, recognized the sound too. All of them knew what it meant, having observed her activity since she left the venue. Including making sure she actually got home safe. Not leaving the outside of Luminara dorms until they saw her face in one of the windows.

A new message came in.

Jaewon Enjoying your win

She didn’t start typing, but didn’t move away from it either. Why had she not blocked him yet? As if she heard their thoughts, she excited the chat. Going to her blocked numbers. A list of at least seventeen blocked contacts showed up. All named Jaewon.

It didn’t matter whether she blocked him. He would just get a new number and keep tormenting her.

Jaewon Not for long, I'm sure

What does that even mean? What is he up to?

Abby who stood behind the couch looking at the screen with them. “I’ll call the girls.”

When they had gotten back to Honmoon Tower after making sure Y/n had gotten back safely. The girls insisted on making a pact. Not believing they would actually share everything with them if they didn’t make a pact. They vowed to keep each other updated on everything happening with Y/n. No secrets.

The pact sealed with a tattoo of a tiny flame appearing on their ribs as a reminder, and as punishment. If they were to forget to share something, important or not. The tattoo would slowly start burning, growing stronger the longer it takes. Only stopping when the information is shared.

All they heard was Abby saying ‘It’s about Y/n’ and they appeared in their living room. Worry clear on their faces. Dressed in gym clothes, a sheen of sweat covering their skin. Still a little breathless.

“What is it?” Zoey ask, finding a seat next to Baby as Abby hangs up the phone. Rolling his eyes at their appearance playfully.

“Jaewon, he just wont stop tormenting her,” Jinu explains. “I think it’s a threat but I can’t be sure,” taking Baby’s phone from him to show Jaewon’s last message to her.

“It has to be,” Mira confirms, obvious anger at the man harassing their girl. “What else can you do with this?” she asks, talking about the mirror image of Y/n’s phone.

“A lot,” Baby smirks. “When she’s asleep I can activate her phone and look through it.”

“And if she is using it? Can you listen to what she’s saying?”

“I could yeah,” Baby nods, going to the settings and activating the mic on her phone and the speaker on his own. Her voice immediately filling the space.

“What are you talking about?” I chuckle at the absurdity of my current situation. “You’re dropping me?”

“Yes, I am,” Kyungsoo says. There is uncertainty in his voice, his posture stiff. “Effective immediately.”

“What? But my contract-”

“It’s doesn’t matter,” he cuts me off. “Because of a morality clause. The label believes it’s best to part ways with the recent… controversies surrounding you.”

“Controversies? What controversies?” he avoids my gaze as I dig for more answers.

“That’s not for me to say,” he shrugs awkwardly casual. “You have 24 hours to get out of the dorms.”

“Twenty-fo- What? That’s not enough time! Where am I meant to go!?”

“You’ll figure it out,” with that he walks out, slamming the door to the studio.

“What?” my voice a quiet whisper as I sink back down onto the couch. “What am I gonna do?” I ask myself, my voice shaky.

Bzzz…. Bzzzz

Glancing at my phone which still sat on the coffee table where I left it when Kyungsoo came in.

Unknown Hey, how is your day? It’s Romance by the way.

// Part One // Part Two // Part Three //

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[dreamer-milore]

—Not Your Biggest Fan

// first meetings with Robin's brother

IN WHICH • The biggest fan of Robin has no clue she had a brother. FEATURING • Sunday

word count; 2k

—----—---—-—-------——

YOU WERE A BIG FAN OF ROBIN.

And I mean really big of a fan. She was beautiful, paired with a wonderful voice, and a virtuous upbringing. Truly, in your eyes, she was one of a kind. Something about her was so ethereal—captivating—it knocks the breath out of your lungs. You've supported her from the very start of her career. You watched her every step in the music industry, every milestone she worked hard for, and every concert and tour she had. Even the very stardust this star has left behind.

You just love her that much.

Now, most fans of Robin are aware of her equally majestic older brother, Sunday.

Not only that, but he was also the head of the Oak Family. But it seemed that you were the exception to this news of a relative. Sure, you might've heard in passing that Robin had a family, but your brain probably ejected it from your memory space because all it can store was Robin, and every tiny thing about her.

(Now, could you still call yourself her biggest fan? Geez!)

One day, as you scrolled through social media, your eyes were quick to land on a post Robin had made. Your fingers instinctively tapped it, and seconds later, you were already skimming through the entire thing.

Now, imagine the excitement that filled you when you found out she'll be taking part in the Charmony Festival. Your heart was thumping loud against your chest, and a grin was quick to plaster your face, as your eyes brightened up with so much light.

You don't give things a second thought because next thing you knew, you were already reserving yourself a seat. A VIP seat, mind you.

As the day of the festival finally came, you were already up in your feet at the crack of dawn. And now you're boarded to head to the place of the festival. You sat on your own seat, gleefully rereading for the nth time Robin's newest posters, banners, and announcements with the event. From the corner of your eye, you take note of the man sitting beside you, (5'5"+, maybe?) clad in a dark blue coat with some designs of thorns engraved all around it. He's glancing at your phone, which had a wallpaper of Robin.

"Are you here for the Charmony Festival, too?" he asks, his voice friendly. You noticed his glance. Instead of being embarrassed about your wallpaper, you took pride in it.

"Yes! I bought a ticket the moment I knew Robin would be in it," you reply back, trying to match the friendly tone the man gave you.

He chuckles, "Ah, you're coming for Robin?" His head tilted in a curious manner.

You nod your head, your eyes lighting up at the mention of her name. "I am! I've been her fan for a while now, actually." You can't help the passion lacing your voice.

He cocks his head towards you, his facial features now unconcealed before you.

The man had a tinge of blue for his hair, and his eyes were yellow. If you looked closely, you might spot the wings enveloping his head. You could've sworn you saw them, but you thought you saw wrong.

"How big of a fan are you, then?" he asks.

"Her biggest fan," your words delivered with firm conviction.

A small smirk graced his features. You might fall for him if you're not careful.

"Prove it to me." It isn't a mere statement. It's a challenge.

"Gladly."

Sunday asked you several questions about Robin: her favorite food, animal, hobby, color, and whatnot. It was like a quiz, at this point. Color him surprised, yet amused, at how well you knew Robin.

You answered every single question he threw at you with not even a single flaw. Sunday knew Robin in a way nobody else did, but you seemed knowledgeable of Robin to almost the same degree as that of Sunday's.

He's impressed. He finds it endearing.

For the rest of your time together, the topics of your chats revolved around Robin. Sunday doesn't mind talking about his beloved sister. Let alone to do it with her biggest fan.

As the ride—and the quiz—came to a close, Sunday knew it was time to part ways. Yet he couldn't help but ask one more question to prolong the comfortable experience he found in your presence.

"Who's Robin's brother?" He knows everyone knows it, but he can't help the words to tumble out from his mouth.

You were already at a meter away from him when he called out to you one last time. You snapped your head towards his direction. "Who now?"

"Robin's brother!" he tried again.

In that moment, you found yourself unable to give a reply. Because how could you? You never knew such thing.

Then and there, Sunday gave a genuine laugh. (It sent tingles down your spine, but you ignored it). He was more than just amused. You, Robin's biggest fan, who knew every single thing about her except the fact she had a brother.

You walked up to him, and in the most confused voice he'd ever heard, you asked, "Robin had a brother?"

"She does," Sunday smiles. He savors the look of pure confusion and dumfoundedness in your face.

I won, he thinks, his heart swelling with pride. I'm still the one who knows her best.

Before you could even move an inch, the man was already gone in the blink of an eye, slipping away from your presence, walking among people that surrounded you two.

You looked around, searching for that familiar, handsome face, but to no avail. Shame you didn't get his name.

~~~

You tried not to be bothered by the fact Robin had a brother—and that you didn't know. You felt ashamed of yourself. But as much as you want to know more about this mysterious brother, you couldn't, given that you were now at the event. And your phone's dead.

You had to push through the crowds of people, getting lost, then managing to find your way to the VIP area. When you finally sat down to your seat, it was like breathing fresh air, your lungs no longer felt tight, and you didn't feel the need to hold your breath whilst pushing through swarms of bodies.

You looked at the stage, and you smiled upon seeing the familiar beauty of your favorite idol. Suddenly, all your troubles and sorrows were flushed down the drain, all to welcome the feeling of warmth and comfort brought by Robin.

As she had successfully done for the past few years, your breath is knocked out of your lungs all over again.

What was that song? I would fall in love with you over and over again?

Truly, those words completely capture the depth of your emotions.

Watching in awe, you were at the edge of your seat, watching Robin as she performed on stage. All of the songs she's ever made were engraved into your mind, every song and every lyric. It didn't take long for you to start singing along too. You admit that you're not well-versed in singing, but people around you had commented about your good singing voice.

The event had you in a trance that you forgot about her supposed brother. You even failed to realize the man who sat beside you.

"Quite the voice you have there, Ms. 'Robin's-biggest-fan'," a familiar voice snaps through your bubble.

You snap your head to him, your eyebrows raised high, and your eyes blown wide. "You're here too?" you ask, taking in the sight of the man you met earlier.

Sunday chuckles at your reaction. If he's being honest, this is probably the most he's been entertained by someone in a week or so. If Robin was here, she would've commented the same thing, not failing to mention how often he chuckles at your antics.

"Have I not told you earlier? I thought I'd voiced that out as my first words to you."

You run replays of your earlier interactions. Then you internally facepalm to yourself. "Of course. You did mentioned it when you greeted me, didn't you?" you sigh. That didn't even feel like a question anymore.

Sunday nods at you, that stubbornly handsome smile was still on his equally handsome face. But worry not. Your dearly beloved idol is just in front of you, on the stage, making your day with her ever-wonderful performance.

Sunday takes note of the state of your eyes. If he were to describe it, the first thing he'd say was starstruck. There was a dreamy look in your eye, one filled with unmistaken admiration. Hell, you looked like a lovesick high school girl. Sunday chuckles again at the thought.

He also took note of how you completely forgot about your earlier problem of not knowing Robin's brother. It seems that Robin is the center of the stage for you, and her 'brother' cannot and never can steal the spotlight that Robin owns.

Perhaps that's a better way to interpret why you didn't know about her brother.

Ever the gentleman, Sunday didn't want to bother you by bringing up your supposed 'problem,' and instead let you enjoy your oh-so-wonderful experience.

~~~

As Robin's performance soon comes to a conclusion, you almost slump down your seat, dreadful. But you straighten yourself up when a thought crosses your mind. You could ask her for an autograph! You never failed to ask in each of her events anyways.

"Attention, my dearest fans," Robin speaks through the mic, her ever gentle and sweet voice. "I would love to thank all of you again for making the time and effort to attend my event. This couldn't have been possible without all of your love and support," Robin looks to the side of the stage, as if there was someone there.

You do the same thing, noticing that your seatmate is nowhere to be found. You shrugged it off; he probably just went somewhere.

"And it's also thanks to my brother's everlasting support."

Your eyes go wide, you lean forward in your seat. This is it. Your problem will finally be solved! Fans screamed and shrieked, chanting the name 'Sunday.'

"Brother," Robin called out to him, and the man emerges from backstage.

Your jaw drops as soon as Robin's 'brother' comes to view. Sunday?! As in the man beside you??? As in the one you had a full-blown conversation with??? As in the head of the Oak Family?!?! Shivers ran down your spine, and a bead of sweat forms in your temples.

Oh no. Oh no. Sunday—Mr. Sunday—must have been pissed off at you for your ramblings. And the fact you didn't know him. But you answered his quiz from earlier (the one where he asked you about Robin), without fail, right? Surely, he might've been impressed by a miniscule amount, right?

You're aware of the name 'Sunday', and you're aware how that name is a big figure in Penacony, being the head of the Oak Family.

You've heard a lot of things about him, including his connection with Robin. But you never knew it was a familial connection, because back then you dismissed it as some form of business connection. Now you know.

You continue to watch as Robin makes her speech, then so does Sunday. Fans of Robin screamed louder at the sight of the majestic, Halovian duo.

Then, for a split second, you swear to the Aeons above that Sunday glanced your way, before continuing his speech to the crowd.

A lump forms in your throat, and your heart speeds up, it knocks the breath out of your lungs. But this time, it's for a completely different reason.

Holy Aeons! Have mercy! You abruptly stand up from your seat, making your way out of the VIP area. You need fresh air; else you want to implode in your chair then and there. How about food? That might help. You walk up to a food stand and ordered a pastry and some beverage. You need to cool down. Why? Well, you just had a casual conversation with the Sunday. Casual, mind you. Were you impolite, at some point? Or perhaps rude and exaggerated? You don't intend to disrespect him with your too-cheerful-it-gets-on-your-nerves yapping!

The man is notoriously known for his dislike with such things, and his obsession with perfection. You pray to the Aeons above that he does nothing with you. And you pray you didn't make a bad first impression on him.

After Sunday finally finishes his speech, he glances at the VIP area, but you were nowhere to be found. His smile falters, but he was quick to recompose himself. Where'd you go? He hopes that you'd be back. Sunday certainly enjoys his time with you. Perhaps he could introduce Robin to you. You might love that.

After the event finally finished, fans lined up to ask for autographs from Robin and Sunday.

Sunday, however, was swift to leave. He tells his bodyguards to look for you. Hopefully he could still find you. He puts his coat back on, so as to hide from the public. He definitely does not wish to be bombarded by fans and paparazzi alike. The man couldn't waste another second. He already told staff members to close down the place earlier than planned, leaving only a small, allotted amount of time for fans to greet Robin.

His intentions were to clear out the place of too many people, so he could have uninterrupted time with his sister, and you.

Meanwhile, you were at a nearby cafe, your seat tucked away in a corner. You stayed there, cooling down.

But as you stepped back inside the place of the event, it was already empty. And by empty, I meant no dozens of swarming crowds that could be the perfect recipe for a stampede incident.

You look around, the only people being there were staff. Robin stands at the stage, perhaps practicing her ability to dance. You watched in awe as she elegantly moved her body, her hands swaying, her feet gliding through the stage. It was truly a sight to behold.

Sunday was just there, watching, too. Until he spots you. A smile plasters his face, his eyes lightening up ever so slightly. The man literally ran a marathon just to get to you, which caught you by surprise, since you didn't notice he was there.

Meanwhile, Robin watches curiously as her brother runs to you. She smiles. So this is the girl he's been telling me about.

"I'm glad to see you again," Sunday said. His eyes wandered over your features, before landing to your eyes.

He genuinely meant his words.

You flinch, caught off guard. Suddenly, you're reminded of the status and reputation of the man before you. You were no longer friendly and casual. But instead replaced by formality.

"I wasn't aware of your identity, Mr. Sunday. I hope you could forgive me for the casual way that I've treated you," you say to him with a bow.

Sunday chuckles, finding your actions amusing. "No need for the formality. I believe we're already past that," he waves off. "But we haven't properly introduced ourselves, have we?" He extends a hand, bowing slightly, perfectly executing the pose of a gentleman "I'm Sunday. It's a pleasure to meet a beautiful woman such as yourself, Ms...." Sunday trails off, raising an eyebrow, wordlessly asking for your name.

"Y/N. The name's Y/N." You take his outstretched hand, gently molding it to yours.

Sunday's eyes glanced at your hand in his. "Wonderful."

.

.

.

[songbirdseung]

kitty / park jongseong

he's supposed to look manly, tough and hot in your eyes... not the opposite. the poor guy is struggling to play the cute role in your relationship and unluckily for him he doesn't have to even try hard to be cute

gasping, you immediately let go of your boyfriend's hand, completely forgetting about him as you dashed toward the small black cat nestled behind a park bush. your heart swelled at the sight, excitement bubbling over as you carefully approached.

"hello, jaaayyy~" you cooed, voice sweet and gentle. but you weren’t exactly calling out to your boyfriend...no, you were talking to the cat.

jay, who had been watching the scene unfold with mild amusement, let out a soft scoff. "be careful," he warned, taking a step forward, his protective instincts kicking in.

you glanced back at him with a playful pout, eyes narrowing just slightly at his concern. "it's a cat, jay, not a wild tiger," you huffed before turning your attention back to the tiny creature, now cautiously inching closer to you.

jay chuckled, shaking his head as he finally gave in and walked over, crouching down beside you. "did you just call the cat 'jay'?"

"yeah," you said matter-of-factly, glancing at him before gesturing toward the cat, who was now hesitantly sniffing your outstretched fingers. "look at it...that's literally you."

jay raised a brow, tilting his head slightly. "baby, i'm not a feline animal."

"no, but you both have the same energy," you teased, smirking. "all broody and mysterious at first, but deep down, you just want some love and attention."

jay rolled his eyes, but you caught the way his lips twitched, fighting back a smile. "okay, first of all, i am not broody."

"mm-hmm, sure," you hummed, finally getting the chance to gently pet the cat as it nuzzled into your palm. "you even have the same attitude. a little cautious at first, but once you warm up, you're just a big softie."

jay sighed dramatically, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you with fond eyes. "i can't believe i'm losing to a cat right now."

you giggled, turning to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "don't worry, you're still my favorite."

he scoffed, nudging your shoulder lightly before wrapping an arm around you, watching as the cat curled up comfortably between you both. "yeah, yeah. just don’t expect me to start purring anytime soon."

"no promises," you teased, and the soft laughter that followed was just another reason why moments like these with jay were your absolute favorite.

grinning, you turned your full attention back to jay, eyes twinkling with mischief as you reached out to gently squish his cheeks between your palms. "you're so cute," you cooed, tilting your head as you took in his face, completely smitten.

jay blinked, his brows immediately furrowing as he tried to pull away from your grasp. "no, i'm not," he protested, voice slightly muffled by the way you were squishing his cheeks together.

"yes, you are," you sang, giggling as you continued to smush his face, pressing his cheeks together until his lips puckered involuntarily. "look at you! all soft and pouty."

jay let out a huff, grabbing your wrists in an attempt to free himself, but you were persistent, refusing to let go. "baby, seriously. stop it."

"why? am i embarrassing you?" you teased, eyes full of amusement as you tilted his face from side to side, admiring him like he was the most precious thing on earth.

he rolled his eyes, trying to feign annoyance, but the way his ears turned pink completely gave him away. "no," he muttered, voice lacking any real conviction. "i just... i’m not cute."

"oh, but you are," you argued, now tracing his jaw with your fingers before cupping his face once more. "you're the cutest. my soft, broody, little black cat boyfriend."

jay groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. "why do i even try with you?"

you giggled, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of his nose before resting your forehead against his. "because you love me," you whispered, grinning when you felt his breath hitch.

he sighed, finally giving up as his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. "unfortunately," he mumbled, but the small smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

"aww, my cute, soft jay," you teased once more, running your fingers through his hair.

"stop calling me that," he whined, though he made absolutely no move to pull away from you.

"never," you declared, giving his cheeks one last playful squeeze before pressing a sweet kiss to his lips.

jay only sighed, shaking his head with fake exasperation, but he didn't complain anymore. because truthfully, if this was what being "soft" meant... being loved so completely by you. then maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind it all that much.

[monzabee]

fashion emergency - a. hotchner

criminal minds masterlist || part of the nanny series

Summary: hotch’s nanny is back with everyone’s favorite hotchner and a go-bag.  

Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader

Word Count: 0.9k 

Warnings:  none  

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

Preparedness is something crucial in Aaron’s line of work. So much so that he has a to go bag packed at all times, under or near his desk, with clothes packed with their back-ups. So, imagine his surprise, when he has to leave on a case in thirty minutes, and he realizes that he doesn’t have his bag with him.  

“You owe me, big time,” You grumble over the phone, “Jack and I were just about to go to the flower market.”  

He hears Jack in the background. “Hi, Daddy!”  

“I am your boss,” He reminds you with an eyeroll you can’t see and a miniscule grin that threatens to take over, “but thank you. I appreciate you bringing my bag to me.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you huff, but there’s no real irritation in your voice. “Just know that Jack’s demanding ice cream as payment for this little detour.” 

Hotch chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I’ll allow it.” 

“Smart choice, considering I was going to get him one anyway.” He can practically hear the smirk you have on your face, which isn’t surprising at all to him considering the fact that you spend majority of your free time making fun of his grumpy face. 

Before he can respond, Jack’s voice comes through again, full of excitement. “Daddy! Can we get the purple flowers today?” 

Hotch feels his chest tighten with something warm. “If that’s what you want, buddy.” 

There’s a muffled squeal of happiness before you return to the call. “Alright, we’ll be there in twenty. Try not to look too helpless until then.” 

“I don’t look helpless,” he mutters. 

“Eh, you kind of do,” you tease before hanging up. 

Twenty minutes later, the BAU bullpen is buzzing as you stroll in, Jack in tow, clutching a small bouquet of purple flowers. To your surprise, Aaron is already waiting for you in the bullpen—with the rest of his team.  

“Oh my God,” Penelope gasps, grabbing JJ’s arm. “It’s the tiny Hotchner! And her.” 

JJ suppresses a laugh. “You act like you’ve never seen them before.” 

“I’ve seen the kid,” Garcia whispers, eyes locked on you as you make your way towards the bullpen, “but she is an enigma wrapped in a mystery with a dash of Hotch’s undivided attention. Oh my God, look at those heels! I would kill for them!” 

Before JJ can respond, Jack spots the team and immediately breaks into a run. “Uncle Spencer!” 

Reid barely has time to react before Jack crashes into his legs, hugging him tight. “Hey, Jack,” Spencer says, crouching down. “Did you bring me flowers too?” 

Jack giggles, shaking his head. “Nope! These are for Daddy.” 

Garcia clutches her chest. “Oh, I’m deceased.” 

The entire team watches as Jack tugs Hotch’s pant leg, proudly holding up the bouquet of purple flowers. “I got these for you, Daddy!” 

Aaron kneels, taking the flowers carefully from his son’s small hands. His normally serious expression softens, warmth seeping into the sharp edges of his face. “Thank you, buddy. They’re perfect.” 

Jack beams before turning back toward the team. “Uncle Derek, did you see? I got Daddy flowers!” 

Morgan chuckles, crouching down. “I did see, little man. You’ve got good taste.” He winks at you. “That your influence?” 

You smirk. “I do have impeccable taste.” 

Garcia practically vibrates with excitement beside them, giving Morgan a look that says they are definitely going to talk about this later. “Jack, sweetheart, tell me, what’s your secret to being this adorable? Is it genetic? Because if so, I demand a DNA sample for science.” 

Jack just giggles, hugging the flowers to his chest as Hotch stands back up. 

You step forward, holding up the go-bag. “Your precious go-bag, safe and sound, Mister Boss Man.” 

Aaron takes it, shaking his head at your theatrics. “Remind me to hide this better next time.” 

“Oh, please,” you scoff. “If it weren’t for me, you’d still be wearing that god-awful backup shirt you’ve had in there since before I started working for you.” 

Morgan raises an eyebrow. “Wait, wait—Hotch, you forgot your go-bag?” 

The team immediately zeroes in on the statement, eyes darting between the two of you. “I didn’t forget,” Aaron corrects, sighing. “Someone took it to—” 

“To do your laundry,” you interject, hands on your hips. “Honestly, I cook for you, I clean for you, I look after your kid and still, I don’t even get one thank you.” You let out a scoff, turning to Jack, “Can you believe this guy?” 

Aaron exhales, looking at Jack, who is too busy now that he’s happily chatting with Spencer about how flowers grow. When he turns back to you, his eyes soften slightly. “Thank you.” 

Your smirk turns into something more genuine. “You’re welcome.” 

Jack tugs on your sleeve. “Can we get ice cream now?” 

Hotch nods. “Go ahead.” 

Jack cheers before grabbing your hand, already pulling you toward the door. As you walk away, you call over your shoulder, “Don’t get shot while I’m gone!” 

The bullpen erupts in quiet laughter as Hotch sighs, shaking his head. Morgan claps a hand on his shoulder. “Man, you sure you don’t have a secret girlfriend?” 

Hotch gives him an exasperated look. “Drop it, Morgan.” 

Penelope grins. “Oh, we’re never dropping this. I’m gonna make cupcakes so that you can take them home with you when you’re back.” 

“Garcia, you really don’t have to do that.” Aaron tries to argue, but she is already walking down the hallway.  

As Aaron turns back toward his office, he catches sight of the flowers still clutched in his hand. He sighs, but there’s a ghost of a smile playing at his lips as he follows the team toward the jet, the sound of Jack’s laughter still lingering in his ears. 

[boypied]

Crush

[best friend] clark kent x male reader

summary: you've been crushing on your best friend for a while now, he is the oppitome of perfection so before his date with lois lane he wants to try out his eating out skills and you are in no position to object his offer.

wc: 1.3k

notes: FDNI, MDNI, ass eating (r!receiving), fingering, body worshipping, hand jobs (r!giving&receiving), ass slapping.

You sit on Clark's bed waiting for him to finish up in the shower and actually acknowledge you since he was the one that invited you over. “Clark, can you hurry-” You start to mutter out until he stumbles into his bedroom where you're sitting down on the corner of his bed, your eyes wandering all over his body but completely staring at his extremely low and loose towel. You gulp down some spit that was gathering in your mouth, and if anymore formed, you would've been drooling over him in a more obvious sense. Clark struts into his room, chuckling quietly to himself as he picks up on your obvious gawking over him. “Bro, I am dying for your help... and I wouldn't ask you to help in this way, but it's urgent” he scoffs out, his voice laced with nervousness with an underlying hint of excitement. Your eyes wander over his body as you watch the water droplets drip down his gorgeously muscular body, “whatever you need! You know you can count on me for anything, you know that.” You mumble out in a soft tone as you gulp quietly.

“This is so embarrassing to ask you, but... can I practice my eating out skills?” Clark asks you with his eyes practically closed, and you stare at him in shock, but hearing those words sends a warm tingly feeling down your body heading right towards your growing aching cock. Your mouth gaped open slightly, taking a moment to process what your best friend of many years just asked of you, “it's just that I'm meeting Lois later and I've been getting the feeling that she's been wanting to take things a step further and... I just don't want to embarrass myself to her, cause I like her a lot” Clark says in a slight whiney tone as he begins to ramble on about how much this will help him out and improve, “This can be like when me and you use to practice kissing with each other before you figured out you liked men, except it will be me figuring out how to eat someone out in the most pleasureable way.” Clark walks closer to you as his ramble continues on and on until your hands reach out and pull open his low hanging towel to reveal his girthy, long and monstrous cock to you. Your eyes widen and Clark gasps at the sudden feeling of being so exposed.

Clark's eyes widen as he stares down at you, “I-I'm only suppose to be eating you out!” His voice extremely shaky from nerves however his cock springs up in excitement revealing how he truly feels about the whole situation. “If you're going to be eating out my asshole then I can ATLEAST see you naked, it's only fair!” You say with a small chuckle which causes Clark to burst out laughing and cover his face to hide his embarrassment. You stand up and keep eye contact as you act all flirty as you slowly strip off naked, you laugh throughout this to hide how excited you really are about this but Clark just stares at you, he slowly nibbles at his bottom lip and you notice his cock leaking like a facet. You reach your underwear as you take a deep breath and pull them down in one swift motion leaving you naked, you both stare at eachother and the awkwardness of being naked in front of your bestfriend slowly slips away and this feeling of comfort and safety crosses over both of you. You turn around and crawl onto his bed shoving your ass into the air revealing your tight, pretty pink and hairless asshole to him. You take a deep breath “I'm ready...” You mumble out as you feel Clark's presence come closer to you as his hands grip against your cheeks spreading them open more giving him a better look at your hole, “w-woah...” he scoffs out nervously.

Clark slowly leans in and hesitantly licks a wet strip up your hole. His eyes slowly flutter shut as he relaxes his body, and his hands forcibly shake your asscheeks creating a jiggle. You gently bite down on your lower lip, feeling the warm from his tongue caressing back and forth slowly but surely pushing past your tight muscle ring and into your soft velvet walls that are clamping around his tongue. Your eyes flutter back and your cock hardens against Clark's bed, “Mhm!” He grunts out until he pulls away and he leans upwards to shove his fingers into your mouth “Suck.” Clark commands of you, his tone dominant and rough, his nervous exterior slips away as his hidden fantasy comes to light. You feel his fingers push into your mouth, swirling around to get them all soaked in your spit. Clark pulls them out of your mouth and gently rubs them against your wet asshole, gently pushing them past your loosening muscle ring and into your velvet feeling walls.

Clark fingers curl inside of you as he reaches his knuckles as your muscle ring tightens around it. You lay your head against the duvet as you slowly sink into it, “C-Clark~” You whimper out in agonising pleasure as his fingers curve against your sweet spot, with each curve he milks your sweet spot sending shivers down your spine and causes your body to jolt. Clark pulls away and sits down next to you, “Do you wanna J-Jerk me off?” Clark asks you nervously as you roll over and continues to breathe heavily. “Mhm-hm.” You nod your head with excitement. You lean back up and wrap your hand around his girthy monstrous cock that you've been dreaming of for some time now, and you slowly begin to beat his meat feeling his pre-cum drip down your hand and you lean down to lick it up grazing your tongue against his tip causing his body to jolt upwards into your hand. You gasp in shock as Clark wraps his hand around your cock and he matches the rhythm in which you're beating his meat in a swift motion. “F-Faster!” You both whimper out simultaneously, and you both turn your heads to make eye contact as both of your hands pratcially move on their own.

“C-Clark, is this too mu- ” You begin to talk as you breathe heavily until he leans in and slides his tongue into your mouth and your eyes flutter shut enjoying the feeling and taste of his tongue in your mouth. Both of your hands go up and down in a swift sultry motion, and you whimper as you feel Clark's other muscular arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him as you both thrust your into each other's hand. “M-MHM!” You whine out into his mouth as you nearer your release “N-Ngh!” Clark grunts out into your mouth as the simultaneous feeling of both your hands moving in a rapid motion beating each other's cocks becomes too much for you both and you shoot your load. The spurts of cum from both of your tips shoot all over each other's bodies, Clark pulls away and breaks the kiss leaving a string of spit from his mouth onto yours.

“Woah” you mumble out as you watch Clark's face redden, and he chuckles nervously. “So did this prepare you for your date with Lois?” You ask him softly with an undertone of jealously, and Clark just stares at you and smirks “There wasn't ever a date with Lois, I just really wanted you.” Your eyes widen in shock, and you jump up from laying on the bed, and you wrap your arms around Clark's neck as his hands travel down your body, and he grips your asscheeks “You should've just said you wanted me... I've liked you for a long, long time.” You whisper in his ear, and he chuckles “I was too embarrassed, but I guess I don't need to be anymore.” You lean back, and Clark smiles softly at you, pulling your naked body closer to his muscular one as he leans into a kiss, passionately feeling his tongue swirl against yours. “I am going to fuck you... extremely hard.” Clark whispers in your ear and you just giggle, you jump up and wrap your legs around his waist ready for a night full of lustfilled pleasure.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter @lucerothings1 @gaefaeyae @dqrkhold @sluttyhusband @sleep-0-deprived

[circe69]

simon ghost riley and pr!mal play fuck yeah

cw: unprotected p in v, rough!sex, predator/prey, dubcon-non, primal play obvi (girl run slower c’mon now)

uhhhh, he’s right behind me isn’t he? ~(>_<~)

“i’ll give you three fuckin’ seconds to run.”

shit.

you stumble back on the wet forest floor, leaves crumbling beneath your feet. simon stood 3 steps away from you, and all he wanted was to fuck you into the ground.

but a good hunter likes to play with his food first.

“one,” he starts as your breath comes out in distorted pants. you’re so excited, so scared, the adrenaline mixed with the intense lust is running through your blood like fire.

“two,” he takes a step towards you. you’re terrified but you want to egg him on. you want to make him angry. wanna make him punish you. you slowly peel off your sweatshirt, revealing your skin-tight tank top.

simon’s anger (and his cock) was begging him to take you right there. he smirked and shook his head, he couldn’t believe what a fucking. brat. you. were.

“three.”

you jumped into a sprint, running as fast as you could and lunging through trees. even though you were running faster than you thought was humanly possible, simon’s footsteps were still right on your tail.

he was swift and silent, and it wasn't until you turned a sharp corner to avoid hitting a tree that you felt two large forearms wrap around your middle.

your scream could've been heard from miles away, causing birds to flee from their nests. ghost flung you against the nearest tree stump and held you with one hand clenched onto your stomach as your feet dangled nearly a foot above the ground.

"why do you have to make everything so fucking difficult," he grunted out as he stripped your pants off with one hand.

you were still struggling to breath, "simon, no-"

"too late for no's, bitch."

you squealed as he tossed you onto the ground, a small tear coming from the corner of your eyes as you went slack jawed watching simon remove his shirt. he started laughing at the sight, "heh, just like you. just like you to dish it and not fuckin' take it. do you see this, y/n?" he grabbed you by a fistful of hair and shoved it down so you were eye level with his painfully hard dick. "you see it? this," he slammed a knee between your thighs, shoving it against your clit as you let out a small sob, "is what you did to me."

no matter what sound was coming out of your mouth, your pussy couldn't lie; if simon were to drag a finger through your slit, it would come back dripping.

"'m sorry, simon, sorry, sorr-"

the sound of his pistol cocking interrupted your pleas. he crawled over you and petted the top of your head, smoothing the stray hairs. “aww, you’re sorry? how sweet,” you felt the head of his gun hit your hip.

“pull my fucking cock out of my pants and if you take your eyes off ‘a mine, you’re dead.”

you scramble, with fat tears streaming out your eyes and down your jaw, as you unzip his cargo pants and pull out his hard length. you never looked away, and scary enough, neither did he.

only when you wrapped your palm around the base of him did he drop is head into the crook of your neck and groan, “fuck,” he whispered, before leaving an open-mouthed kiss under your jaw.

“you going soft on me?” you said quietly.

“if i was going soft, this pussy,” he shoved two fingers inside of you with no warning, and all you could hear was an embarrassingly loud squelch, proving just how much you wanted this, wanted him. “would sound a lot different.”

“no matter how sweet you are,” simon removed his fingers and replaced it with the head of his dick, forcing a gasp out of you,” n’matter how sick you think i am, you like being prey, you like being caught and gutted from the inside out, isn’ that right baby?”

there was no denying it, and even if you did, your pussy would suggest otherwise.

simon riley was right.

[hiraethwrote]

THE HEART GROWS FONDER

pairing : kento nanami x f!reader summary : (requested) — kento nanami loved you before he even knew you, and his feelings were the one thing he never questioned. like pieces of a puzzle, you fit together. whatever happens, your feelings never waver. cw : childhood friends to lovers, reader is v emotional, canon events/jjk0 spoilers, mentions of character death, mutual and intense pining, miscommunication lack of communication, mild one-bed-trope?, platonic!satoru (bc apparently i am unable to write anything without mentioning him), light profanity, pet names, talk of wedding, sweet fluff, a good chunk of angst, slight jealousy, no use of y/n word count : 10.1 k

Kento was a knowledgeable man.

He knew how long it took to get from one place in Tokyo to another, no matter what time of day it was. Well aware of all the best routes for traveling the city most efficiently, even during rush hours.

He knew all the ways to make the most money. Not what he was proudest of, but working hard had garnered him a set of useful skills that made him a good employee, a real asset to the company.

He knew how to read a map, a skill long forgotten by most in this day and age. Should he ever find himself in a situation where there was no reception, he would be able to get his hands on a sheet displaying the nearby areas and figure out how to return to civilisation.

He knew how to best take care of his body. He had done extensive research to make sure he moved his body correctly during workouts to not harm himself. He wasn’t interested in aching joints when he was old and gray.

And he knew he loved you — since the very first moment his eyes landed on you all those years ago.

He remembered the exact moment in excruciating detail as well, like how he had turned a little scared at the unfamiliar sensation of a racing heartbeat. When pressing his hand to his chest, he felt the rapid thumping. He quickly realised it was caused by the sight of you when it happened every time he spotted you.

His dad would tease him whenever he caught Kento sitting in the windowsill, chubby cheeks resting on his forearms as he gazed lovingly towards the little girl playing in her front yard a few houses down. “I’m sure she would love to play with you.” His face would turn bright crimson, a colour that had become all too common in the Nanami household whenever you were brought up, before an embarrassed Kento would stomp up to his room.

He didn’t learn your name until the first day of school — your parents had arranged for the two of you to walk to school together. He had been over the moon when he heard the news, pure excitement filling his body to the point where he could not sit still. But the moment he was stood in front of you, your voice sweet as honey when introducing yourself, his throat dried out and he turned tongue tied. His mom placed a hand on his shoulder, bringing his feet back on the ground, “Kento,” he croaked weakly before disappearing into his jacket.

With small feet carrying you to and from school, you tried to force a conversation out of him but to no prevail. He remained shy and quiet, eventually resulting in a statement that had saddened him more than he could have anticipated; “you don’t talk much, do you?”

There had been no ill intent in your words, but it had Kento distance himself from you. What was supposed to blossom into a friendship (and maybe even more with time), only simmered down to him consistently trialing five steps behind you on the path to school that became all too bleak when it hadn’t turned out how he had imagined it.

His infatuation didn’t seem to disappear anytime soon either. If anything, now having the opportunity to observe you in closer proximity only deepened his feelings. He now got to witness the outgoing and bubbly personality that was wrapped in your cute exterior, exceeding all his expectations of what he had imagined you would be like — fascinated by how you seemed to excel in aspects where he lacked.

And the more time that passed, it seemed the day he would find the courage to catch up and walk along side you traveled further out of his reach.

He continued to admire from afar, watching as you earned yourselves new friendships as easily as putting your shoes on in the morning. Kento wasn’t the only one drawn to your outgoing personality and charming smile, his heart breaking a little when you formed a tight knit friend group and he didn’t get to be a part of it.

That’s how it went. Kento sort of just blended into the background, never making a number of himself. He was nearly certain no one really knew he even existed at all (except the teachers, who absolutely adored him). Day after day, he sat by himself with a book in his hands, only ever looking up to admire you for a few seconds as you would play with your friends.

However, he preferred the quiet life in school more than what it evolved into as second grade rolled around.

During recess, he would sit with his book, same as always, counting the minutes until school was over so he would walk those five familiar steps behind you — that’s when two third graders had approached him, their intention clear as day.

Their antics continued for two weeks — until what he thought was the voice of an angel interrupted.

“Hi there.”

Kento would recognise that voice anywhere, turning towards the source to see you, huge grin plastered on your face, both hands behind your back as you stared down the two third graders.

“What’s going on here?” You asked in such a sweet and innocent tone, but all three of the boys could see there was something borderline unfriendly in your eyes that was not present in your words.

“Doesn’t concern you,” one of the mean kids bit back.

“Hmm,” you hummed, pressing your lips together before shifting to a serious tone. “I think it does, because from over there-“ you pointed in the direction of where you had stood moments earlier, “it looked like you were picking on my friend.”

Friend? Had he heard you right?

Before they could retaliate, you had already opened your mouth again, “I’ll scream! The adults will come and you’ll be in biiiig trouble!” Your tone had been so cheerful, but that same threatening intent lingered in your gaze — a look one did not want to receive from a stubborn, little seven year old.

It seemed like your scare tactic worked, because after grumbling to themselves for a few seconds, they shuffled away with their tails between their legs. And once they were far enough away not to be a bother anymore, you squatted down on the gravel beside Kento, wrapping your arms around your legs.

“You okay, Kento?” Completely transformed, not a hint of your malice present any longer, just soft and genuine concern when speaking his name.

He blinked a few times, using the back of his hand to dry the few tears that had watered up in the corner of his eyes before he answered you. “‘M fine,” he sniffled, then daring to look you in the eyes to mutter a shy “thank you.”

“Anytime.”

You couldn’t explain why you had decided to interfere — because labelling Kento a friend wasn’t entirely true. The boy had barely said a word to you for the year you had known him, but you had just been filled with anger when you witnessed the older kids choose to pick on him. He did not have a mean bone in his body. And maybe somewhere along the line, you had gained a soft spot for the reserved kid, having not been able to stop glancing over your shoulder from time to time when you walked to and from school, just to make sure he was still there.

Never had Kento imagined that the taunting from his upperclassman would be his biggest blessing to date. He no longer sat alone during lunch, but instead accepted your invite to eat with you and your little clique.

And finally your friendship with Kento had the opportunity to grow.

Thanks to you, school had become a lot more enjoyable for him after that. The walks to and from school was no longer spent with an awkward distance, now matching your pace as you both indulged in small talk from the moment you left school until he left you at your door.

He knew he should have been satisfied, and in one way he was. He was finally allowed to call you his friend after all, but during school hours, you usually hung out the entire group. And on your spare time, you had a tendency to reserve your time just for the girls. So while he wished for more, he continued to shoot longing, and not so subtle, gazes across the table.

It abruptly changed when you were thirteen, walking home from school like any other day, when your blunt question had cut through the conversation.

“Hey, you want to go to the movies with me?”

“What?” Kento’s thirteen year old brain had not been able to comprehend the question, stopping dead in his tracks to stare at you with big eyes, swallowing the massive lump in his throat. Had you just asked him on a date?

You stopped when you noticed he did, staring right back at him like this wasn’t a big deal. “None of the girls were interested, and you’re the only boy in our group I can tolerate without any of the girls,” you rolled your eyes. You had turned a little feisty when entering your teens.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” he said, drawing his lips into an awkward line, hoping he could play it off as a smile.

Your deadpanned expression immediately twisted into one of pure joy. “Great!”

Kento had stood in front of his mirror all afternoon, using both his hands to smoothen the crinkles of his shirt, treating it very much like a date. He didn’t even realise how long he had been stressing in his room until his mom came knocking, telling him you were waiting outside.

He had been a little disappointed when he saw you, because it became very evident you did not consider it a date. Wearing the same outfit you had worn to school that day, resting on the handlebars of your bike. “C’mon, we need to get popcorn before the movie starts,” you nagged, just the tiniest bit annoyed.

When stood in the kiosk, he had offered to pay for the popcorn, like the good, little gentleman he had been raised to be. “Oh, no need. Mom gave me money to pay for it,” you said cheerfully with a shrug and a smile. “Thanks, though.”

The movie couldn’t hold Kento’s attention, even if he wanted to, because for the whole ninety minutes you had your knee rested against his. The sensation of the shy touch of your leg had his heart beat so loud against his ribcage, he was scared you might turn to him and tell it to shush so you could hear the movie.

It wasn’t much, but the pressing feeling was definitely prominent enough that you had to be aware of it too. And in his mind, it seemed only logical you kept your leg still against his because you wanted it to touch him. But whenever he flickered his eyes over to you, you seemed utterly unbothered, attention fixated on the screen as your hand continued to grab popcorn from the bucket.

He tried to keep his breath even, letting his tension spill out by clenching and unclenching his fists. He was so determined to sit completely still, scared the tiniest flinch would cause you to shift your leg away from him.

Trips to the movies, just in each other’s company, became a regular occurrence after that. And about half of the time, you let him pay… only because you paid the other half, but he let himself wallow in the idea that he was treating you for the evening.

He was in high school when one of your friends had asked about it. “What’s really going on there, Kento?”

He had immediately decided to play dumb. Not because he was embarrassed, but if there was even the slightest chance it would feed them material they could use to make you uncomfortable, he wanted to avoid it. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, man,” he laughed mockingly. “You and her,” nodding towards where you stood with your girlfriends in the cafeteria line. “The two of you hang out with each other more than us these days.”

“I don’t know, we’re friends?” Kento shrugged, almost certain he was able to play it off as casual.

“Friends? Right, friends who constantly go on movie dates together.”

“They’re not dates,” was all he had been able to say to defend himself, feeling his cheeks grow hot like they had done when he was younger.

They had all chucked at him then. “Yeah, whatever man. Congratulations bagging the prettiest girl in school,” was the last thing that was said before you and the rest of the girls joined their table. You sat down beside Kento, like always.

Carefully, you had nudged his arm to get his attention. “You okay?” You asked quietly so only he could hear.

He gave you a weak but genuine smile. “Yes, just lost in thought is all.” You smiled back at him, making his heart skip a beat.

You don’t remember when it changed for you. If it had been a gradual thing, or if you had just woken up one day with this feeling — but something was definitely different.

The realisation had hit you mid sentence. Rambling on about some meaningless topic, like you always did, and suddenly you noticed the way he was looking at you.

He was listening so intently, not missing a single word coming from your mouth, a faint smile stamped at the corner of his lips and a tenderness in his eyes you hadn’t really noticed before. You only managed to snap out of it when he spoke your name.

“Am I losing you by not talking?” He teased before taking a sip out of his coffee.

“Shit,” you muttered, his eyebrows raising in surprise. “I just remembered this group assignment I have due tomorrow.” A lie — and an obvious one at that. But Kento didn’t get a moment to ask any follow-up questions before you had gathered your stuff and rushed to say goodbye, leaving him alone in the cafe.

For the entire walk home, you thought about Kento, now suddenly in a new light, reflecting over the entirety of your friendship.

You became aware of how he always seemed to prioritise you in the group without hesitation. You had just brushed it off, assuming he felt indebted to you for coming to his rescue when you were seven. But you realised now how ridiculous that sounded.

You thought of all the times he had come running when you had asked for him. Whether it was after a fight with one of your girlfriends, or a date that had gone horribly wrong, he dropped everything to be by your side.

You realised now why you always caught yourself answering with a frown when girls came to ask you about him. As you had gotten older, he had definitely grown into his looks, a subtle kind of handsome that snuck up on you.

When you got home, you had pulled out your phone to send a text to apologise for bailing so abruptly. But you typed and deleted the message twenty times over, anxiety you had never felt about him before overwhelming you. In the end, you ended up not sending anything at all, feeling like no words sufficed.

And the next time you met, you acted as if nothing had happened, and he just went along with it.

You tried desperately to act as if nothing had changed, beyond terrified you would scare him off or make him uncomfortable if he picked up on your new and revolutionary feelings for him. If there was one thing you were absolute certain about, it was that you would never do anything to jeopardise the friendship you had with him. There was no competition of what person in your life you cherished the most; Kento Nanami. You’d be the earth's biggest fool to gamble that away for anything.

When you were 16, you nearly caved.

In your desperate attempt of keeping things normal, you had continued your meaningless escapades — which meant going on terrible dates with even more terrible guys — turns out teenage boys are just assholes by default.

“It’s their loss,” Kento cooed in a warm tone, sitting beside you on your bed with a comforting arm around your shoulders.

In all honesty, you didn’t even care all that much about the date. You couldn’t even remember the guy’s name. No, your mind was way more interested in how his strong hand cupped your arm so perfectly.

You turned to look at him, faces closer than ever before. He happily held your gaze — you were just hoping he was able to read the messages it conveyed.

Tell me to stop seeing these guys, and I’ll stop.

Tell me you want me the way I want you.

Tell me it’s you I’m meant to be with.

“You’ll find someone worthy of you eventually.”

Your heart sunk, having built up your own expectations based on how his eyes had roamed your face as if he truly desired you. Maybe this was all in your head.

It wasn’t.

But Kento, much like you, didn’t want to lose you over anything. Confessing risked the relationship he already had with you. He would rather have you as a friend, than not have you in his life at all.

Not long after that, you both joined Jujutsu tech. Slowly but surely, you slipped away from your childhood group — him more than you. You tried your very best to stay in touch, though your new schedule made that hard.

With these new threats looming around you, neither of you could help how your friendship — or whatever you would call what was going on between you — continued to grow deeper. More serious. It went unsaid by the both of you, but there was just a mutual understanding that it was the logical development when there was the slightest possibility of it ending all too soon.

Still neither of you confessed.

You fell into routines, so accustomed to seeing him every minute of every day, your first instinct when returning from a mission was to find him.

As expected, Kento heard the three soft knocks he knew all too well at this point, before you squeezed through his door. With a deep exhale, you fell back on his bed, while he sat in his desk chair, arms crossed over his chest. “I’m exhausted.”

“Did you just get back?” His muscles were a little tense, like they always where whenever you had to go on a mission without him, his eyes searching every inch of you to see if there were any visible injuries he had to worry about.

“Little over an hour ago. Had to escape Gojo talking my ear off about his own mission.”

Kento observed how the corner of your lips tugged upwards in a tired smile, your chest vibrating with a soft chuckle.

He was always happy to see you come back unharmed, but he hated the exhaustion that rested in your joints — and it filled him with an unexplainable urge to help you somehow.

He imagined guiding you to lay on your stomach, placing his legs on each side of you and slowly soothing your muscles, rubbing caring motions along the curves of your body to fill it with the relaxation you deserved — but he couldn’t. It would definitely cross a line, too intimate for just friends.

“Glad you’re back,” he said almost in a whisper.

“Me too.” He could barely hear you, the mission slowly catching up with your energy as well, sensing on your breathing that you weren’t too far from falling asleep.

The silence that surrounded you was comfortable. You had grown so accustomed to each other’s presence, any awkwardness had ceased to exist. Nevertheless, Kento didn’t quite know what to do with himself, just looking at you sprawled out on his bed, a scene he would like to see every night.

“Kento?” Your voice was so soft.

“Yes?”

“Can I stay here tonight?”

He heard the slight hesitation in your voice before you expressed your request. Raising up his neck and face was a burning heat, his breathing coming out shallow as he didn’t quite know what to say.

Being a cautious man, he thought of every possible outcome.

It was prohibited, so he should decline. But he would hate himself forever if he simply sent you away because of the school’s outdated rules — he also knew he would regret it until his heart stopped beating.

So having you stay here was the only reasonable outcome — but then what? He supposed he would end up sleeping on the floor, like the gentleman he was. He would at least never assume he could sleep next to you, and he would not be as vulgar to ask.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “Of course. I’ll just-“

“Kento,” you said his name again, just as soft as always.

“Yeah?”

“There’s room for both of us on the bed.”

He had to swallow the massive lump that felt as if it was suffocating him. It at least stopped any further words to come out of his mouth. He slowly raised from the chair, floorboards creaking as he stepped over.

With his eyes locked on you, seemingly so calm with your eyes closed, he positioned himself beside you so he was facing you.

Goosebumps prickled up his arm when he felt your breath fan against his face, and he wondered how you managed to keep it in such an even rhythm. Didn’t this closeness send lightning through your body like it did for him, temptation threatening the act of finally crossing the line?

There was a crease between your eyebrows that seemed unintentional, like the events of the day had just planted themselves on your face and even your calm breathing couldn’t ease it. Against his better judgment, Kento’s urges steered his thumb towards your face, not reflecting over his action before he had ran his skin across the crinkle to smoothen the tension.

Shit, he thought to himself, certain you would open your mouth to tell him off — instead he saw how there had been a slight strain to your shoulders that was now released.

While he let his eyes roam your face, taking in every breathtaking aspect of your beauty, he felt a small spark of fear fill him at how right it all felt — lying next to you, so close he could feel the warmth radiate from your skin, his soft touch being able to bring rest to your body, the mere idea that he could envelop you in his arms if he wanted to.

“I’m happy you’re here with me,” your voice startled him a little, as he had assumed you had already fallen into the oblivion of sleep. “I’d never be able to navigate this world without you.”

“That’s not true.” Your eyes opened to meet his, catching his breath immediately, so stunningly deep he always felt himself fall into them. “You’ve always been the one looking out for me.”

You chuckled a little at that, endless memories of the two of you throughout childhood. “I guess in one way. But you’ve always kept me afloat.”

“You give yourself too little credit.” He had to stop himself from letting his fingers graze your cheek in the most tender caress. “You would have done just fine on your own.”

A small smile of flattery dared dance on your lips. “But I don’t want to.” It felt like a confession, unspoken feelings hidden within those words, begging for him to be able to deduce the true meaning. “Thinking of a life where you’re not at my side scares me.”

“Let’s never find out what that life is like.”

Kento would later eat those words.

Haibara’s death hit Kento the hardest. Numerous evenings were spent in the eerie silence of his cold dorm. When he cried, you held him. When he was trying to distract himself by reading, you sat and watched him, keeping him company. When he went the entire night without sparing you the slightest gaze, you knew you had overstayed your welcome, leaving him to be alone for a night.

“I don’t think I will continue to be a sorcerer.”

That was the first thing he said that hadn’t been a complete necessity, and it sent a spike of ice down your spine, not daring to understand his statement right away.

“Oh,” was the only thing you could think of to respond that did not entertain his idea.

His eyes met yours, the eye contact more intense than it had been for days, realising just how much you had missed having his kind eyes directed at you. Seemed like he felt it too, as the smallest gasp slipped out of him.

“I mean it.”

The tears instantly burned in your eyes, blinking them away before they had the chance to come running. “That's what scares me,” your voice betrayed you as the usual confidence came out cracked.

He didn’t push it any further, reading you as an open book — you knew he was telling the truth, but refused to acknowledge it. It was like if you ignored his statement, it would somehow end differently.

Luckily, after that night, Kento started to somewhat fall back to his old self. His smile started to return, it was easier to hold a conversation with him, which you obviously appreciated — however, he had planted a fear in you that had taken your body hostage.

You abandoned any sense of boundaries entirely, hanging onto his arm at all times. It was only when you were physically aware of his frame you were able to cling onto a string of peace. Feeling his body glued at your side only served as a confirmation that he was still here, and as long as you held on he couldn’t go anywhere. He couldn’t leave.

And whenever you had to pry yourself off of him to tend to your responsibilities where he wasn’t assigned, you were constantly living in a state of anxiety. Foot tapping against the floor, picking at your skin, petrified you would end up returning to see his room stripped of any signs of life — that he would have finally done the thing he said he would do, and part with the Jujutsu world.

Every time you returned, the sweetest sensation of relief washed over you, tears welling up immediately when he always stood ready to greet you. “Hey you,” he said softly, pulling you into his arms, holding you tight until he could physically feel your body let go of the stress that had tainted every muscle, every joint, for the entire time you had been separated.

But graduation day came and time was up.

You had held onto hope he would eventually change his mind, that it was only the initial grief that had weighed heavy on his conscience. But you were now standing in his bare room, everything packed into cardboard boxes. Of course it had only been a childish dream to think he would stay — there was no changing his mind.

“I really am sorry.” He was so earnest, like always, making it hard to be mad at him even though you so desperately wanted to. He genuinely had so much compassion, his hands stroking your arms in an attempt to calm the bouncing of your shoulders that followed the frantic rhythm of your sobs.

“I just don’t understand why?” You continued to sob, sentence coming out in sad intervals as you heaved for air.

“This isn’t right. It’s not right of them to expect us to be okay with watching our partners lay down their lives like this.”

You wanted so badly to scream at him, bang your fists against his chest before clasping onto his shirt so he wouldn’t even have the opportunity to leave. You knew it was unwarranted for you to feel that way, but the fact that he was following through with his stunt felt like a betrayal.

“You said we weren’t going to find out what this would be like.”

His heart shattered. Looking into your doe eyes, tainted red with sorrow as the sentence laced with innocence sent him back to every fragile evening throughout your journey together he had spent comforting you. How many tears he had dried, happily so? But this time it was his doing — him who brought you to a state of despair so grave you couldn’t breathe, and he knew this time he wouldn’t be able to comfort you.

Waiting for his next words were torture, time at a standstill watching his mouth open and close while he constructed the sentence in his mind. Though useless, the glimmer of hope refused to die out, begging for his surrender — you’re right, I’ll stay.

“I’m sorry.”

Another one of your earth shattering sobs came flying past your lips, stabbing him right in the heart that had only ever beaten for you.

Comforting you would always be second nature to him, which had his hands cup your face and pulling it closer to rest his forehead against yours. He wished, begged, for his touch to bring you comfort one last time before he left. But your body continued to shake. “It’ll be okay,” he tried to reassure you, spoken in a faint whisper. Repeating it over and over, waiting for his small affirmations to take affect — they never did.

Ask me to come with you.

Those six words played like a broken record in your mind, knowing you would pack your bags and abandon this god forsaken life at the drop of a hat if he just asked you to.

Come with me.

The request laid restless at the tip of his tongue, fighting every voice in him that was screaming at him to be selfish. But he couldn’t with you, never with you.

Unlike him, you had a purpose in this world — you were able to see the good in what you did, and he would never be able to forgive himself if he ripped you away from it no matter how much he wanted to.

There seemed like there was no limit to your tears. Shuddering against his touch, he sensed your body didn’t have much energy left to stand. He ended up leading the two of you to his bed, stripped bare to just the mattress, duvet folded at the end. Without any words spoken, you laid down in his arms, burying your face in his chest while the sobs continued to tumble out uncontrollably.

His strong arms locked around you, holding you as close to him as humanly possible, letting the illusion of him never disappearing from you live on for another night.

Eventually your sobs calmed down, only happening sporadically. The shaking stopped and he felt your breathing even out, telling him you had finally been able to let sleep consume you.

He couldn’t stop himself — placing a chaste kiss at the crown of your head, mumbling quiet and secret apologies before sleep caught him too.

According to Gojo, his departure had been quick. He hadn’t said much, just given them all a nod before grabbing his bags and disappearing.

You had decided against seeing him off. The two of you had said your goodbyes the night before in the solemn of his empty dorm. It had been wet, heartbreaking and nothing short of painful, but at least it had been private between the two of you. No one knew how your tears had soaked his shirt, or how your fists had created crinkles in the fabric while desperately holding onto him. No one knew how you had cried until the exhaustion knocked you out in his arms, so scared to wake up to face the new reality where Kento wasn’t at your immediate side like he had been since you were kids.

You couldn’t really remember what it was like to not have him there. Even before you had grown close, he had always lingered, the one thing in your life that had stayed consistent throughout it all was him.

The next weeks were absolutely torture, having to feed the people surrounding you endless lies of “I’m fine, really.” You were really just trying to prevent yourself from letting the reality set in properly. If that can of worms were to open again, you had no clue when or how you would be able to stop it. Last time you had still been able to seek some comfort against his warmth, only able to stop it because you practically passed out.

Not a single moment passed where he didn’t cross your mind, small things reminding you of him. All your little routines — for days you forgot to grab lunch because you were so used to him bringing it to you. For days you ended up with one towel too many, because you always brought an extra for him after training. Mundane things you had always taken for granted, gone in an instant.

Despite feeling a little betrayed, you couldn’t really blame him either. So you reached deep within yourself to try and stay positive. It wasn’t like he was gone gone, he had just retreated to a normal life.

You stayed in touch, sending regular updates about how you were getting by in the world of curses without him — lying of course. When he had left, he had taken some of the purpose you had in it all with him. But you didn’t want him to worry. You told him how you eventually started teaching at Jujutsu High alongside Gojo, and it felt nice to be responsible for the next generation of sorcerers.

And at first you received regular updates in return. He got himself a quaint little apartment that fitted his needs perfectly. You even got a few blurry photos of how he had tried to decorate it so it would feel more homely — you had cried when you received those.

You never called each other though. It seemed like there was a mutual understanding that it would be too unbearable to hear the voice of the other.

After a while, the updates slowly came to a halt. You kept on sending yours however, only for that little checkmark to appear and confirm he had read it. But no answer — you cried then too.

Had you said something or done something to make him cut the contact? You never managed to wrap your head around why he stopped showing you his new life.

Kento had never wanted to stop sending the messages — on the contrary. If anything, he had to stop himself from not telling you about every single minute of his day, even the most meaningless things, just as an excuse to talk to you.

But one day, thanks to a white haired little birdie, all consuming guilt had struck him. “She doesn’t say it, but she’s miserable.”

He held his breath, his fingers unintentionally clenching tighter around his phone. “She is?” His voice came out faint. He heard Gojo let out a deep sigh at the other end of the line.

“She tries. Very hard. I stopped asking a long time ago because she kept lying anyways.”

“Oh.” Kento had been a fool, believing your words when he had read them on his screen. When he hadn’t been able to hear the tone behind the statements, he had been able to convince himself they were genuine. But of course you were lying — he was, after all.

“But I think she really enjoys teaching,” Gojo said after a moment of sad silence, trying to fill the conversation with some optimism. “And the kids love her.”

“Yes, I can imagine as much,” a small smile appearing on his lips, picturing the scene of you with the young students.

“Look, I have to run, she’s waving me over. Should I-“

“No!” Kento rushed to cut him off. “No, don’t say anything. Please.”

He made up his mind then and there — he was not going to cause you any more pain. So he had to let you go entirely to allow you to move on. The way he was selfishly clinging onto the crumps you gave him seemed to do you no good, if the image Gojo painted was accurate.

So he stopped. Even though his fingers urged to reach out, he fought against it, for you.

You, however, could not hinder how your finger pressed the send button every now and then. The updates definitely became less frequent when he went radio silent, but you did not have the strength to stop. If you stopped… there was a fear he would never come back.

Kento was supposed to share his life with you.

He had believed so ever since he was a little kid, ogling you from afar before he even knew your name. The way you made his heart jump and pulse quicken had to be his body’s way of telling him you were meant to be with him, quickly growing addicted, dependent, on the reactions you created in him without trying.

But he had made the drastic choice of abandoning that feeling, convinced the alternative did you harm — and the mere concept of being the reason you even felt the faintest glimmer of discomfort was something he could not live with.

He welcomed the misery, a small price to pay for the belief that you were doing better now. He also thought he had good reason to believe that was the case.

The updates you sent him were few and far between these days, but it did paint a picture. You were rarely in the photos, but there was an energy present in the moments eternalised that seemed pleasant and positive. He imagined you had found your role, your place in life where you would get to fulfil your potential. And whether or not he was there was irrelevant.

He convinced himself his own insecurities were a reality to make it easier to bear.

Ever since childhood, you had been the headstrong one. The independent one. The brave one. It always lingered in the back of his mind whenever he just observed you in different scenarios — that it really didn’t matter if he was there or not, forever just an accessory to your life. He even feared he was holding you back somehow.

So it was only reasonable to think time away from him would have provided you with the playing field to develop into the best version of yourself… right?

Years went by and Kento’s pain didn’t ease. He missed you — every single day. And he kept living in that constant state of torture for you, until the fantasy shattered.

It was just another day, nothing out of the ordinary. Kento was going about his drowsy routines of stopping by the same bakery he did every morning before work. However today, he was nearly tackled by two kids, a boy and a girl about the age of six, once he entered the building.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” a grown woman rushed over to apologise as she brought the children back to their little table.

“It’s no problem,” he mumbled monotonously, eyes following them as they scattered back to their seats, where another woman sat.

A wave of nostalgia crashed over him, feeling like he had the privilege of looking back in time. The little boy resembled a young Kento Nanami, his blonde locks neatly styled, chubby, red cheeks and a baby-blue button up shirt — a rather mature attire for a six year old.

And the boy had his eyes glued on his friend, a girl the same age, very evidently the more outgoing out of the two. She was rambling enthusiastically, arms waving all over the place as he told her story down to the smallest detail, exhibiting the same spark you always had.

The boy kept a glare of pure awe as he followed her every word, seen so clearly in his eyes how much he admired her. And Kento knew how this story would continue — that night the boy would lay in his bed, the biggest smile on his face, unable to fall asleep as the day spent with his friend would play on repeat in his mind — much like Kento had spent countless nights when he was young.

It wasn’t until the girl behind the counter called for him he was able to pull his attention away from the all too familiar scene.

So polite, a sweet smile on her face as she served him the same thing he ordered every day. And then she asked how he was sleeping. It fascinated him, how this girl didn’t owe him anything, and had her own worries — like the little curse sat on her shoulder — and still showed concern for him.

He had noticed the curse before, but purposely never done anything about it. It wasn’t a proper threat, and it would be more of a hustle for him to deal with the reactions of ridding her of it than let it be. But now, having the innocent scene a few feet from him remind him of you, he quickly began to consider doing the girl a favour.

You would have exorcised it — without hesitation.

Not just that, you would probably give him crap for not exorcising it immediately. It wouldn't cost him anything to do it, so why wouldn’t he?

“Could you take a step forward, please?” Kento asked politely, the girl a little confused but doing as he said. He had your voice in the back of his mind while he easily exorcised the curse with one swift motion, the strain in her shoulder easing immediately.

“Huh? It’s lighter!” She exclaimed, rolling her arm around at the newfound relief.

“If anything still feels off, please go to the hospital,” he said with a small nod. He grabbed his food and headed for the exit, sparing one last glance at the table where the two kids sat, still deep in the conversation.

His lungs let out a deep, involuntary breath when the realisation dawned on him — he could no longer stay away, caving to his desires.

Maybe enough time had passed for it not to be considered selfish? If you had in fact found your place where you were content and comfortable, and meeting him again would be causal for you?

The questions kept circulating his mind as he pulled out his phone to dial the one person who would be able to set it all up at the blink of an eye.

His whole world stopped when he saw you, and he wondered how he had ever thought it a good idea to leave you — how could he possibly have survived all that time without you?

It was almost painful how his heart was clawing at the inside of his chest, desperate to be with you. It wasn’t until he felt the overwhelming pounding he realised his heart had not beat properly for the years he had spent away — meant to beat in unison with yours. His skin was turning cold as ice and the only way for it to regain its warmth was your touch, your soft embrace.

Kento hadn’t known what to expect when he saw you again, but he had certainly thought he would have more rational and coherent thoughts. Right now, it was all scrambling in his head and the only thing that appeared clearly in his mind was you, framed in the halo of your aura, taking his breath as way just as easily as when he was six.

With his body going numb, he observed you interact with Gojo and two kids he assumed were your students. You looked calm, a small smile decorating the plump line of your lips — it wasn’t as radiant as it used to be. In fact, your entire energy just seemed a little off. Maybe you had just gotten home from a mission, or it has been a hectic day in general.

Truth was not so mundane. You wished it was as simple as a long and tiring day. That would mean you could just jump in bed and sleep it off, ready to face a new day tomorrow.

But the day Kento left the jujutsu society behind, he unintentionally stole your spark with him.

You could never hate him for it though, he didn’t know. He only did what he felt like he needed to do, and you would be a terrible friend to stand in the way of that. But you had no control over how your mind decided to react.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder was something you had always heard growing up, and you had never really understood it — until faced with the situation yourself.

Not a day went by where you didn’t think of Kento. You thought of how his grin always grew slowly when watching you, eventually revealing the shy smile lines across his cheeks. The ghost of his touch, which was always dancing the line of appropriate or not, never leaving your mind. Sometimes you still felt the imprint of his arms around you.

“Don’t you guys listen to him for a second,” you chuckled, the tiniest hint of frustration in your voice. “Gojo doesn’t qualify as a responsible adult.”

His jaw fell to the ground in fake offence, eyebrows narrowing at the innocent laughs spilling from the students. “You were never this mean when we were younger,” he whined, folding his arms across his chest, looking like a stubborn child.

“That’s what you think,” you teased, nudging an elbow into his side. “You should have heard the things we said about you behind closed doors.”

His big hand came piercing through the air, pressing it against your face, gently shoving you away from the conversation. A lighthearted, but genuine, little laugh escaped you. “We don’t want to hear what you and your little boyfriend did in private,” Gojo rolled his eyes, pretending to gag at the made up memories.

Annoying as he was, Gojo had a way to actually make you forget the pain of it all for a few seconds. You would never tell him, obviously, that he managed to put the storm inside your head on hold for a second — he would rub it in your face every chance he got.

“Wait, senpai had a boyfriend when she attended here?” One of the students interjected and suddenly the mood of the conversation shifted. Gojo’s hand fell from your face before he shot you an apologetic smile.

For the most part, it was never a problem whenever Kento was brought up in the company of Gojo and Shoko. Everything was out in the open between the three of you, shared history taking away some of the pain. But whenever it slipped outside your little trio, it quickly became a sore topic.

Mouth opening and closing, trying to find the words to answer without having to give an explanation. Luckily, a painfully familiar voice called your name behind you, instantly sending a shiver down your spine.

All of you turned towards the voice, and you couldn’t help but let out an audible gasp at the beautiful image of your other half standing in front of you after all these years.

Your heart’s instinct steered your body, quickly stepping away from the group and latching your arms around Kento’s neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He didn’t hesitate to close his strong arms around your frame, fitting right into the slots they used to fill. His familiar scent filled your senses, memories flooding back in an instant.

“Huh, speak of the devil,” Gojo mumbled.

“Him? That was her boyfriend?”

Gojo quickly snapped out of it. “Let’s give them some privacy, shall we,” and started rushing away the nosy teens.

Kento’s grip loosened and you pulled away, but neither of you dared let your hands leave each other. Your own hands ended up cupping his face, forcing him to keep his eyes on you until it hit you he was actually with you again — he let his rest on your waist, feeling the restlessness in him by how strongly his palms were pressing against you.

He was here. He was actually here.

There was a deafening silence filling the space of your office. You could feel it in the tension that both of you wanted to say something, but there was an unspoken pressure of saying the right thing.

So you let your eyes roam him, taking in the differences in his appearance.

He was gorgeous, same subtle handsomeness as he had always possessed, but a new confidence displaying it. Everything about him was more defined, sharp features drawing attention to his face, his muscles filling his shirt in a way they never did before.

“So, you and Gojo seem to work well together,” he swallowed, causing embarrassment to flush your face when he pulled you from your blatant admiring.

“We’ve found a rhythm that works for us, I suppose,” you shrugged.

He shifted awkwardly in his seat, arms flexing as he crossed them in front of him. “That’s good. I’m glad.” His tone of his short statements seemed to imply otherwise.

“He’s surprisingly good at his job,” you laughed, “the kids like him.”

“Who would have thought,” there was a pull of his lips, like he tried to smile but it didn’t succeed entirely.

“Not me, that’s for sure. I don’t know, he just meets them were their at.” You really wanted to stop rambling about Gojo. It was so clearly just a desperate way for you to replace the quiet that plagued you without touching the elephant in the room. “Don’t get me wrong, they find him insufferable, but I think they secretly really like him. Much like the rest of us.”

“Sounds about right.”

You squinted at him, slowly growing somewhat antsy. “You’re not jealous of Gojo, are you?”

Of course you still saw right through him. He, who usually managed to hide his true feelings, would never be able to conceal them from you. And he was jealous, petrified that he had made the biggest mistake of his life and Gojo had ended up taking the place that was supposed to be for him only.

“Is there something to be jealous of?”

“You tell me.”

The tension was thick, nearly suffocating, years of yearning and pining fuelling the energy. The reunion only served as a dangerous spark that threatened to set the fuse ablaze at any second.

Why couldn’t he take the first step? He was the one who had showed up all of a sudden, and he still hadn’t given you any explanation. He owed you that much, right? But he kept letting his restlessness control him, one leg bouncing quietly against the floor, hearing how the cogs in his mind were turning.

“Why are you here?”

Your words were soft, but Kento knew you well enough to know the true feelings that lingered in the question.

“I’m coming back.”

“You’re coming back?” You weren’t able to withhold the bite that was slowly making its way into your tone.

“Only if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Don’t do that,” your voice threatened to crack. “I don’t want that responsibility.”

He sighed deeply, unfolding his arms to rest his elbows on his spread knees. “That wasn’t my intention. I’m sorry.”

Always so polite. Always acknowledging his faults before they had the opportunity to grow. Always so damn righteous.

“What I meant to say is it looks like you’ve really managed to establish yourself here, and I wouldn’t want to come in and cause any discomfort by intruding what is essentially your space.”

The sound that escaped you next was a mixture between a flat laugh and a scoff, not entirely appreciating the way he was behaving. “Have we been apart so long you can’t talk to me like I’m your best friend?”

That had him look up at you, meeting your eyes instantly. You were sad, visible on your entire demeanour — maybe not to the average person looking, but he saw, still able to read you like an open book.

“Hope not,” he tried to smile, lips formed into a tight line that exposed how nervous he really was. His attention shifted to look at his fists folded together, words resting on his tongue, he just wanted to be sure it came out right. “I’ve missed you.” Silence. “There hasn’t been a day where you haven’t crossed my mind.”

“Sounds familiar.” There was no hiding the flush crawling up his neck and colouring the tips of his ears red at the sound of your confession.

“It was the thought of you that finally convinced me.”

“Why now?”

“Because enough time should have passed for you to thrive without me.”

“If that’s the case, you’ll have to keep waiting.”

You had him gagged, no clue how to respond. For some reason, he had refused to believe you were still hung up on him the way he was. There weren’t any reason for you to hold onto the idea of him — yet you had, for dear life.

Abruptly you stood up from your chair, hands running through your hair in frustration, trying to make sense of his sudden visit.

You stopped in your pacing, back faced him and hands on your hips — then he saw your shoulders begin to shake, followed by stifled sobs. These were the situations he always used to know what to do, moving on autopilot to bring you the comfort you needed.

Did his hands remember how to soothe you? Did his voice still know how to form the right words to say? Did his presence still know how to envelope you until you felt happy again? There was only one way to find out.

Quickly stepping over to you, his hands hovered over your shoulders for a second in fear. He swallowed his selfishness and let them land to settle the bouncing, leaning his head forward to rest it against the back of yours, the smell of your shampoo surrounding him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and it only seemed like his apology opened the valve, no longer able to choke your sobs. Your hands left your hips to cover your face, muffling the sadness tumbling out in one stream.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he continued to mutter, head moving to press it to the side of your face. One hand traveled across your collarbone, the other around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible, determined to hold you there until he was absolutely certain you were okay.

He would stand there the whole night if he needed to.

Slowly but surely, your sobs came to a stop, your trembling eventually easing against his body. But he didn’t loosen his grip, not until he felt you shift in his arms to face him.

Cry painted cheeks, delicate red rim around your eyes, glossy irises that stared right into the deepest parts of him that only you had access to.

Everything started to fall back into place, his big hand cupping your cheek as he stroked your hair out of your face. He let his eyes dart delicately across your face, taking in every single detail.

Then he let his longing get the best of him, thumb graciously tracing your bottom lip turned swollen from when you tried to swallow your sobs.

There was slight hesitation while he leaned forward, never having experienced time moving as slow as you waited for his lips to connect with yours. First, he let his nose brush against yours, testing the waters.

Please.

You felt his breath.

Don’t make me wait any longer.

Sparks.

Soft lips pressed against yours, moving tenderly in unison that sent intense sparks through your body from head to toe. The moment easily surpassed any of the fantasies you’d had of kissing him.

Needy fingers traveled up his broad chest before hooking your arms around his neck, pulling him closer — it still didn’t feel close enough.

Kento poured everything he had always wanted to say into the kiss — and he knew you understood. If he had learned anything from everything you had been through together, it was he could always trust you were able to understand him completely, even without anything being said.

When you pulled away you found yourself breathless. Meeting his eyes again, unexpected shyness you weren’t used to experience with Kento had you hide your face in his chest.

The roles had reversed, his warm chuckle serving as a comforting blanket. Oh, how you had missed that melody.

“Took you long enough,” you mumbled, hoping the teasing would have your normal confidence return.

His finger found your chin to tilt your head up, capturing your gaze. “Yeah, I should have done it ages ago.”

The previous sadness still lingered, and it was evident you still had a lot to talk about. But right now it was nice to just wallow in his presence again. It was way overdue, feeling like it should have been like this since forever.

“I really am sorry.”

“I think I can find it in myself to forgive you.” Your innocent jab was received with a dashing smile, tingles spreading throughout your limbs at the sight.

“Hope so, sweetheart,” he breathed quietly before he leaned in again.

They sat staring at each other, Kento with a raised eyebrow while a grumpy Gojo was positioned on the couch opposite him, legs and arms crossed in annoyance.

“You used to be nice.”

Kento scoffed at his colleague’s childish behaviour. “I still am, you’re just upset you’re not getting it your way.”

“But why?” Gojo cried dramatically.

“Why? What do you mean why? Because it’s not your wedding.”

“Were you always this boring?”

“Most definitely.”

“Will you guys please shut up?” You interrupted, unable to ignore them anymore. You had desperately tried to block them out as you were doing some paperwork you should have done ages ago.

“He started it!” Gojo pointed at Kento, which only had him roll his eyes.

“You know what,” you sighed as you gathered your stuff and raised from behind the desk. “It’s with a heavy heart I leave you, but I need to get this done by the end of the day.” You stopped behind Kento, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry, honey,” he said genuinely as he gazed up at you lovingly.

“I am not asking for much-“ Gojo continued to argue before you interrupted him.

“Will you pay for it?”

“Is that all it’ll take?” He beamed, and you nodded. “Of course! Done! How much do you need?”

“You’re too lenient when it comes to him,” Kento sighed.

“It’s not the craziest thing he could request. He’ll get his endless supply of sweets, and you won’t have to listen to his obnoxious nagging anymore.”

“I’m sitting right here.” Both you and Kento ignored him.

“I really have to get this work done though,” you sighed, hand squeezing his shoulder.

“See you at home?” His loving smile had you lean down to press your lips tenderly against his.

“See you at home.”

“I’ll have dinner ready.”

“God, I love you.”

Then he flashed you that smile — the smile which was reserved solely as a response whenever you said those three words he used to dream of hearing from you.

It was funny really, how after everything things would turn out exactly how he as always wanted them to. Despite the hopelessness he had felt and all the pain you had endured — both together and apart — would eventually lead up to the happy ending he had dreamed of since the young age of five.

He knew he would do it all over again, in every universe, if it ensured this outcome.

“I love you too.”

tags @sad-darksoul @toadtoru

an anon, i am so sorry if this ended up longer than you wanted it. idk what happened, bc it just kept on snowballing <3 however, i am very touched you wanted me to do this request. warms my heart. hope it turned out okay mwah also, if you've read my satoru childhood friends to lovers fic and see any similarities, no you don't comments and reblogs is much appreciated

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[folkwhoreberry]

I'm sorry I'm too shy to ask without being anonymous 🫣 but could I get a story with Lando where reader is a childhood sweetheart and was always there for him and still is. Like a scene where she arrives at paddock solo because she had to do something first and she is all nice to fans and collects bracelets and stuff then she goes to garage where she and Lando have a pre race ritual of her kissing the helmet or something.

Lucky Charms

lando norris x reader

or... the one where wherever he goes, thats where you follow

word count : 674

warning : none, english is not my first language!!!

on the radio : die with a smile by bruno mars & lady gaga

🏎️🧡

the paddock buzzes with excitement, fans crowding around as you make your way through. it’s a familiar scene by now, but today, you had to come alone. lando was already deep in pre-race preparations, and you’d gotten held up with something earlier in the day. still, you smile warmly at the fans who call your name.

“can I have a photo?” a girl asks, holding up her phone, eyes wide with hope.

“of course!” you say, pausing for a quick selfie. another fan hands you a bracelet, colorful beads strung together with care. “thank you, I love it!” you slip it onto your wrist, adding it to the growing collection from fans you’d received over the years. these little moments always meant a lot to you - connecting with the people who support lando, who support you both.

after a few more quick interactions, you wave goodbye to the small group gathered near the entrance and head toward the mclaren garage. the familiar hum of mechanics working, the scent of fuel, and the sight of the car bring a sense of calm. this place, chaotic as it is, feels like home because of lando.

“hey, you made it,” one of the crew members grins as you enter, giving a little wave.

“barely,” you laugh, walking past to find lando. you know exactly where he’ll be, a ritual of sorts for both of you before every race. and when you finally see him, helmet in hand, his eyes light up in that way that makes your heart race just as fast as it did when you were kids.

“thought you were gonna leave me hanging,” lando teases, leaning against the wall of the garage. the smile he gives you is soft, familiar, the same one he’s been giving you since you were just two kids with dreams bigger than either of you could grasp.

“never,” you say, stepping up to him. he’s already in his race suit, looking every bit the professional he’s grown into, but to you, he’s still the boy you grew up with, the one who used to drag you out to the karting track to watch him lap until the sun went down. you had always been there, and now, years later, nothing had changed. you’d always be there.

he hands you the helmet, the same way he always does before every race. it’s become a part of your routine - your good luck charm. lando says he won’t race without it, and you know he means it.

“still lucky?” you ask, running your fingers over the sleek surface of the helmet. it’s the same one you kissed before every race, a small but meaningful gesture that had started when you were both teenagers and just stuck.

“hasn’t failed me yet,” he says, eyes softening as he watches you. “besides, I don’t know what I’d do without it.” he shifts closer, his voice lower as he adds, “without you.”

you smile at him, warmth filling your chest. there’s a comfort in the familiarity of it all - of knowing that no matter how chaotic life gets, this part of your day is always just yours. you press a gentle kiss to the top of the helmet, lingering for a second longer than usual, as if sealing all the good luck you could give.

“there,” you whisper, handing it back to him. “you’re all set.”

he takes the helmet with a grin, his eyes never leaving yours. “I think I am now.”

for a moment, the world outside the garage fades, and it’s just the two of you, like it always has been. childhood sweethearts who never grew apart, who stuck together through every high and low. he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “thank you, for always being here.”

“always,” you promise, as the sounds of the paddock come rushing back in. but even then, nothing can break the quiet bond between you two - not the race, not the noise, nothing. this moment, this little ritual, was yours.

————————————————————————————

© all rights reserved to folkwhoreberry. no stealing or copying will be tolerated.

a/n : wrote this while eating a can of pringles haha

[chelseeebe]

girls on film

18+. mdni! smut, so much smut. p in v, eddie is a munch! alcohol mentions. pornstar!eddie munson x reader. no use of y/n! modern au.

eddie munson makes porn. you make it. only, eddie doesn't much like the sounds of that.

a/n: happy valentines day my loves! spend some time with our favourite nerd eddie instead of a real man that'll only disappoint. i am so guilty of always giving eddie a breeding kink and then just never giving him any children oopsie hehe. i've been writing this on and off for months now, i already have a p2 and p3 the question is whether i'll finish them or not lol

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

when anyone asked, you’d tell people you were a set assistant. 

what they didn’t have to know was that you were a set assistant for pornstars. 

it wasn’t ever a dream of yours, nor something you’d have ever pictured yourself doing, but it paid the bills and hey, sometimes you met cool people through it too. 

today’s no different to any other, waiting for the talent to arrive as you prep the scene. it’s something ludicrous, metal guy meets friends innocent younger sister, something along those lines. 

you never really paid attention to much of that stuff, at some point it just became so much noise and frantic movement that the script never really mattered. 

he’s late. you’ve heard whispers of his nonchalance before. only hoping that you’d still get home on time. 

when the elusive man finally decides to bless you all with his presence, you’re taken back. not ever expecting the lanky guy that had shuffled through the door. all hair and denim. 

his charm makes up for his tardiness. flowing out of his mouth in droves, shaking hands and sharing hugs with the crew until he gets to you. 

“hey,” the man grins, pulling you in for a half-hug, “i’m eddie, super excited for today now that i’ve seen you.” 

you stare back in confusion, you’d be running towels and telling lighting what to do, why would he ever be excited about that? 

“anything you’re not comfortable with?” he asks, squeezing your arm gently. 

“oh.. what? i’m not- sorry, i just work on set,” shrinking into yourself although flattered that he’d thought you were starring opposite him. 

“oh,” sounding almost disappointed, “that’s a real shame,” the thick smell of his cologne and cigarette smoke wafting towards you. 

your cheeks burn, averting your gaze to the ground, finding solace away from his heavy stare. 

“who is the lucky lady?” eyes gliding around the women in the room, choosing to once again settle on you. 

“she’s.. um, she’s getting ready,” gesturing towards the small dressing area you had. 

you were never this bumbling, a thousand handsome men had stood before you and had never, ever had this impact upon you. 

“cool.. okay,” he nods, “where d’you need me?” his leather jacket tightening around his strong arms, knocking the wind out of your chest. 

“over here,” gesturing vaguely at the empty makeup chair, losing any and all composure when he pats your arm on the way past. 

christ. 

you needed to get a grip and get it fast. 

-

a lick of fresh air would help pull you from this disgustingly down bad headspace he’d plunged you into. 

or not. 

eddie’s hand curls around your arm just before you reach the door, “i’ll join ya,” cigarette already poised in between his lips. 

you can only nod, stepping out into the cool air though it does nothing for your flushed cheeks, edging away despite his efforts to keep close. 

you’re a little intimidated by his hardiness and hardness. struggling to keep your eyes above the waistband. 

“you ever thought about doing this?” he asks, blowing the smoke from the side of his mouth. 

“not really.” 

“that’s a shame,” he smirks, “i think we’d make something beautiful,” keeping his gaze steady on your flustered face. 

“stop it,” brushing him off coyly, he didn’t have to be so sickly sweet, his smirk had clearly already worked its magic on you. 

“you don’t agree?” eddie’s eyebrow raises, taking a slow, drawn-out toke of his cigarette.

you shake your head, “there’s a reason i’m behind the camera and not in front of it,” staring out at the bleak, grey parking lot. 

“well i think we should change that,” stepping in front of you, leaving you no room to not look at him, “i’m in town for the week, i’d love to see you again.” 

this didn’t happen to you, ever. the girls you worked with were otherworldly in terms of their beauty, no one ever really paid you any attention at all. 

eddie can sense your hesitation, assuming that he’d scared you away already, “look, take my number. you don’t have to call but i’d like you to,” slipping his cell from his pocket. 

you nod almost on your own, retrieving your own phone to hand off to him. he’s slick in the way he taps the number in, cigarette balanced on his lip as his eyes flicker between phone screens. 

“there ya go,” placing your phone back in your clammy palm, “do what you want with it, i go back to chicago on thursday,” making it clear that whatever this may be, would be temporary. 

“o-okay,” nodding quickly, there was a high likelihood that his number just sat there for the rest of eternity, never to be used or clicked on again. 

you don’t take eddie as the type of guy to pressure you, in fact, he seems quite the opposite. so much so that if you don’t take him up on his offer, you’ll never hear from him again. 

it’s truly an offer you really shouldn’t refuse, but yet you’re hesitant to even accept his advances. mixing work and pleasure like this, especially with someone like eddie, could only end one way. 

“i better get back in, y’ready?” holding the door open, a real gentleman, making you flustered of the most common of decencies. 

you were fucked. 

-

it’s hellish watching him perform. 

not just seeing everything his tight jeans had hidden away but also the way he truly cared about his partner. 

all the gentle touches to her face, cradling her body while completely disrespecting it too. globs of spit leaving his mouth to coat her cunt, making your thighs press together with indescribable want. 

he glances back between takes, making sure to catch your eye every single time. running his tongue over his bottom lip, knocking the air from your lungs without fail. 

you’d bore witness to many overdramatic, frankly fake orgasms in your years on set. very rarely did anything ever make you feel quite like you did today. screaming jealousy at her disappearing eyes, the way his lips brush against her ear, guiding her through her second orgasm of the session. 

it’s not loud, or irritating, just soft mewls accompanied by his soothing voice, making sure you were soaking right through your jeans. 

when eddie cums, his lips fall apart, head thrown back as his hips stutter, using her back as a canvas, jaw gritted together. 

“that was great!” tom yells, your makeshift director. ushering for you to hurry up with the towels and cold water. your fingers trembling as they brush against eddie’s. 

he offers a sweet thank you, quickly slipping back into his robe as you try to regain some semblance of control over yourself. 

you’re ridiculous, a giggly teenage girl more than a grown woman who watches people fuck for a living. this had solidified your position on ever calling him, and simply put, you couldn’t. 

in fact, you’re not certain you can even speak his name again, destined to live a life of perpetual wondering about what could have been. 

-

one glass of wine seemed to have been all it took to get eddie fucking munson back into your head. 

you’d done so well so far, managing to push the disgraceful thoughts way, way to the back of your mind, only for one measly glass of sauvignon blanc to destroy all of your progress. 

it’s not like you were actually going to call him, just toying with the idea, hovering over the button. a little foreplay, if you will. 

maybe you should. 

if one glass of wine was enough to have you already breaking the promise you’d made to yourself, who’s to say what years and years of unknowing would do? 

eddie was interested first, he came onto you first. there’s no doubt he’d be as eager as you were, but you still can’t help the niggling sounds of apprehension. 

the tone is dialling before you can second guess yourself and end it, fingers trembling around your phone, as if it were a ticking time bomb awaiting detonation. 

it rings a couple times before it clicks, connecting the call, “hello?” his voice echoes, thick and as intoxicating as the first time you heard it. 

your lips move yet produce no sound. reluctantly hoping he’ll think it’s a prank call and block the number. 

“eddie,” the first word to form on your tongue, potentially the worst thing you could’ve said. 

“it’s you,” his smile evident, even through the phone, “i was hopin’ you’d call,” you can hear the hustle and bustle of the restaurant now, he mumbles something to a passing waiter about the bill and now suddenly you feel immensely guilty about calling him on a saturday night.

“i’m sorry- am i interrupting something?”

“not at all,” and you can hear him smile all over again.

but what you don’t see is him glancing over at the busty redhead still at the table, waving back at her innocuous wiggle of the fingers. 

“what’re you doing tonight?” he asks, leaning back against the cool brick wall. 

“nothing really.. i mean, if you’re not busy, maybe you could.. or we could do something?” wanting to die the second the words leave your lips. 

“that sounds good to me,” his audible grin unwavering, “how ‘bout i come over?” 

you freeze, looking around at the mess surrounding you, piles of paperwork and clothes litter the floor, resembling somewhat of a dumpster rather than an apartment. 

“..you don’t want me to, that’s okay,” answering his own question. 

“-no!” interjecting before he could change his mind entirely, “you should come over,” turning into a desperate little slut before he’d ever even touched you. 

eddie pauses, his feet shuffling in the background, “okay,” voice intoxicatingly thick, “give me thirty minutes and i’m all yours.” 

all yours. 

christ. 

you can feel your knees buckle, turning into putty in his hands. 

“o-okay, i’ll send you the address,” ending the call before you fumble this any further. 

immediately springing up from the mattress, deciding that the one and only time you’re going to mix work and pleasure must be perfect. you work on grabbing piles of clothes, shoving them back into the closet they belonged in. 

eddie wouldn’t care, would he? 

perhaps keeping stuff to the living room would be better, the tiny couch would make do. 

-

thirty minutes practically on the dot, there’s a knock on the door. 

oh god oh god oh god. 

this was a mistake. 

you should shut off all the lights and just pretend you’re not home. 

don’t be so silly. 

cursing the self-sabotaging thoughts, damned to make you second guess every single thing about yourself. 

your head peaks around the open gap, eyes falling on his chest to rise up and meet his daunting eyes. there’s a bottle of wine tucked beneath his arm, the half bottle you’d downed beforehand completely unbeknownst to him. 

eddie blinks, his lips cocked to the side, “well hello,” dressed far too nicely for a drunken booty call at your apartment. 

“hi,” utterly meek and pathetic, swooning over his suave greeting. 

“you look good,” gaze trailing down to your bare legs. you hadn’t expected him to be so put together, now regretting your choice of what was essentially just pyjamas. 

“tha-thank you,” pulling the door open wider, “come in, please,” stepping back to let him inside. 

the air thickens immediately, your clothes suddenly too tight and your palms clammy. if you ever wanted eddie to stay interested in you, you’d have to get ahold of yourself quick. 

“nice,” he saunters around the room, looking at your pictures and the other piles of accumulated artefacts ok your shelves. settling just before the couch to turn and smile. “you live alone?” 

you nod automatically, the air sucked from your lungs at the sheer sight of him in your apartment. it felt like some strange crossover dream that really should’ve stayed unexplored. 

“that’s good to know,” helping himself into the kitchen, opening cabinets to presumably find two wine glasses. 

you brush off his comments, it was no secret as to what he was here for. “top left,” arm brushing against his as you make your way into the small space. 

musk and a hint of lingering cigarette smoke waft your direction, decidedly not turning to sniff his jacket like you so wished you could. 

“care to join me?” offering the bottle out in your direction. 

if you were even just an inch braver, you’d create some witty come back, some utterly irresistible flirty banter that’d surely have him crawling on his knees for you. 

but you aren’t, so instead you nod, hoping you won’t resemble such a wallflower all night. 

-

“can’t believe a pretty girl like you was gonna spend a saturday night all alone,” eddie gushes, a quarter of his wine sipped away. 

it’s incredibly hard to remain stoic when his eyes are crescent-moons, lashes cascading shadows over his cheeks and his tongue periodically wets his plump bottom lip. a routine he's no doubt mastered the art of by now.

“i’m always..” gesturing into thin air, unfortunately aware that whatever came out of your mouth next would make you look like a pathetic loser, “i mean, i go out sometimes..” making matters worse tenfold. 

“really?” 

why’d you open your mouth? 

“no.. i work a lot so..” clearing your throat in a bid to make him forget you’d ever spoken. “i hope i didn’t interrupt anything..” shrugging softly, though you’d already known you had done. 

“i was out for dinner.. nothing important,” brushing you off, “she wasn’t exactly.. uh, great company,” laughing into his glass of red. 

the cogs turn, sudden realisation that you had interrupted a date. and he’d let you. 

“you were on a date,” cringing at yourself, frustratedly embarrassed for no good reason, “i’m sorry- fuck, you should’ve said,” wanting to die a thousand deaths. 

he looks utterly perplexed, “if i wanted to be there, i’d be there, alright?” patting your thigh, the first of his daring moves, “i wanted to see you,” thumb circling the soft skin. 

already making you melt half an hour in. you were toast. there’s positively no way you’ll make it out of here with your dignity in tact. 

“..okay,” bashfully nodding along to his heavy words, seldom to back down so easily. there’s just something about eddie munson and his doe eyes that turns you into a submissive mess. 

his hand doesn’t move from your knee, tracing circles around the bone, “you’re so beautiful and you don’t even know it, do you?” trying his hardest to meet your averted gaze. 

fuck. 

your cheeks burn, pussy already throbbing and he had scarcely touched you yet. how was it possible for him to be so sweet? his words thick like molasses, dripping, leaving their mark all over you. 

“i’m just..” what has gotten into you? this was pathetic. “you’re very kind eddie,” smiling gently, as if his words hadn’t sent you into cardiac arrest. 

he hums, a deep noise from the bottom of his chest, “say my name again sweetheart,” purring, toying with coming closer, “i like it better when you say it.” 

you’d scream it if he wanted you to. let all your neighbours know who was making you act like such a fool. 

“you don’t have to sweet talk me.. you’re already sat on my couch,” finding the last lingering ebbing of confidence to bite back. 

eddie laughs, deep and rumbling, “but i like seeing you squirm.”

oh god. 

had he trained in this? he’s so quick witted, bouncing off of whatever you say immediately. 

“you’re so..” trailing off into silence as you meet his heavyset gaze, intimidated and fazed all at once. 

“so.. what, sweetheart?” cocking his head to the side, alongside his lips. 

you hate him. 

his overwhelming confidence, his gaze that has your heartbeat in your throat and your fingers clawing at your thigh. there was something so intimidating and yet oddly charming about his presence.

“so annoying,” biting back, only really annoyed that he had successfully woo’d you. and without much effort at all.

eddie looks vaguely hurt for a moment, only for his grin to spring right back onto his face, “i don’t think you mean that,” sucking on the backs of his teeth. 

you’d been caught out immediately, bowing your head to hide the inevitable flush. 

just fucking do it. 

the same nagging voice that had made you call him in the first place starts up again, louder this time. if his brazen flirting wasn’t enough to get you to make a move, what would be? 

choosing to grasp the moment as it is, refusing to allow him any more power over you for tonight.  

you charge forward, chest bashing into his equally as heaving chest, attempting to straddle his thighs until you’re stopped by his large palm groping your thigh. 

he breaks apart, the back of his hand brushing against your cheek, “it’s real sweet that you think you’re in charge,” quickly taking your wrists into his grasp, pushing against your pouncing stance to press your back against the couch instead. 

you let him, sinking into the cushions as he moves atop of you, hands skilfully skirting over your hips, tugging at your loose-fitting shorts. 

“oh darlin’, i’ve been waitin’ for this,” running his hands back up your doughy thighs, squeezing the pliant flesh on their way. 

you just about melt under the pressure of his sweet talk, allowing him the power to manoeuvre your body any which way he wanted. there’s a soft thunk as your sweatpants hit the floor, his hand spreading your legs to give him full view of your sodden panties. 

you’re not sure you’ve ever been as wet as you are now, positively drenched just by the feel of fingertips against your skin. 

eddie hums, large hands skirting your thighs, a soft squeeze to the doughy skin, “i really thought you’d never call,” slowly sinking down, leaving a trail of peppered kisses on his way, the tank top you’d slung on gives him perfect view of your hardened nipples, tugging the fabric until your tits fall out. 

“wouldn’t that have been such a shame?” continuing on, making you squirm with every lick of his lips, every last syrupy sweet word. 

his lips attach to the overly sensitive skin as his free hand palms the other, tongue twisting around the bud forcing the pathetic whimper from your throat. 

you can feel him smile against your chest, mouth popping off just to lock around the other, continuing his descent down between your legs. 

he pries your thighs apart, looking up at your skittish eyes, jumping from object to object as the pressure in your clit worsens. 

his lips startle you, warm and wet on the pliant skin, sucking and nibbling until he reaches the hem of your shorts. “you dressed up f’me,” hooking his fingers into the waistband, a short tap on your hip has them jumping up to help him. 

eddie glides them down your legs, holding onto your ankle as the fabric hits the ground. his pretty pink lips curve upward before pecking the soft cotton clothing your cunt. he’s a genius, a master of his craft. you’re not at all shocked that women were lining up to have their turn. 

you quiver when he pulls away, thighs pressed together in a bid to satiate the ache left in his wake. 

his thumb traces your clothed slit, pressing into your hole just to come right back up and circle your clit. it’s almost as if you can feel your brain chemistry changing with every single touch, destined to haunt every other encounter you’d have after this. 

no one had nor would ever touch your body with such sincerity and care again. it just wasn’t possible. 

arousal seeps out, turning the gray coloured cotton darker, literally dripping with want for him. 

your hands come up to hide your warm face, covering your eyes, mostly as an excuse to cut the weighted eye contact he hadn’t once broken. 

but his hands are fast, faster than yours. coming to pull yours right back down again, scolding you for even trying it. “don’t do that.. please don’t do that.”

you nod, vowing to do nothing to piss him off again. eddie’s a professional at best, a whore at worst. he knows what’ll get you whirring, knows where to lay his fingers and in what tone to whisper his words. 

sickening. 

he smirks, one-sided, “i like that you don’t fight it,” trusting you enough to let go of your wrists, delving back between your plush thighs. 

words fail to form, overcome with such horniness that you can’t think straight. 

enough of the games, you want to bellow. 

touch me touch me touch me. 

you’re aching, clenching around nothing. the hollow emptiness driving you further and further into craziness. 

“can we..” sighing softly, losing your train of thought as quickly as it came, “i need you,” digging your nails into the poor couch. this cruel and twisted routine had to stop. 

“nuhuh,” eddie huffs, his warm breath splaying across your cunt, “i’m takin’ my sweet time with you,” using his middle and forefinger this time to dance tauntingly over your pussy, grinning manically to himself. 

“but-,” cut off when his fingers curl around your panties, the cool, harsh air hitting your cunt, sending a shiver down your spine. 

“wow,” he marvels, looking lovesick at your slick folds, “she’s so pretty,” in awe of the sight before him. 

your self-consciousness had faded, losing to your disgustingly eager lust. he could do whatever, however he wanted to you. he just needed to do it quickly. 

his tongue peaks out over his lips, preparing for his feast, “you’ve been so patient,” stubble brushing against the inside of your sensitive thigh, “i think you deserve this.” 

with that, your panties come down, he doesn’t even need you to move, expertly manoeuvring them from your skin. he cradles the damp fabric between his fingers for a moment before sliding them into the back pocket of his jeans. 

you can’t protest, you don’t even want to. he was welcome to take whatever he wanted or needed. 

eddie wraps a hand around your calf, resting it upon his shoulder, repeating the motion as your feet settle on his upper back. his palm finds your thigh next, looping his arms around for leverage. 

he hums with pure sick, adulterated satisfaction, one last glance at your glistening cunt before meeting your gaze. “keep your eyes on me sweetheart,” kissing lazily at the skin, antagonistically slow to make his way up. 

your fingers lay on the couch, scared for what you can and can’t do. 

his tongue meets your folds, pulling you out of your worry and into the real world. fuck whatever his rules were, you needed to touch him. weaving frantic fingers through the curls on top of his head, receiving an encouraging hum of approval, his throat vibrating against your cunt. 

“oh my.. fuck,” panting into the abyss, unable to stop your hips from moving against his face. you’d fuck his face and any other time, he’d let you, but that wasn’t the plan. 

he clamps down on your wriggling hips, keeping them pressed to the couch, refusing to allow you any control over the situation. 

eddie’s lips attach to your poorly neglected clit, sucking gently at the bud, forcing the not-so-quiet moans out of your throat, fingers curling around the strands just to tug on them with every flick of his tongue. 

the knot in your stomach is tight already, threatening to snap at any moment. especially trying when the tip of nose nudges at your clit, sitting right on top while his tongue makes you see stars, circling around your hole and right back up between your folds. 

you’ve never been this wet in your life, arousal dripping from his chin to your ass and thighs. when he pulls away just briefly, his puffy lips gleam in the dim light of your apartment. it’s only momentary though, quickly diving back in to pull you over the edge. 

his tongue swipes thick stripes over your cunt, aching for something him to just fill you up. “shit,” you hiss through gritted teeth. your eyes struggle to stay open, he’d forgive you, right? it was no fault of yours that his tongue felt too good, drawing you to the edge just to rip it from under you. 

lolling your head back against the arm of the couch, no longer able to abide by his arbitrary rules. your thighs were trembling, fingertips entangled in his locks, nothing except your impending orgasm mattered. 

eddie voices his displeasure through a low grumble, only twisting the knot further as his tongue laps at your pussy. a ravenous dog of sorts, refusing to let up until you came on his tongue. 

“fu-uck eddie- i can’t.. i’m gonna cum,” vibrating against his ears, feeling his smile against your core. a sick, perverted man that had you exactly where he wanted. 

the band snaps, throwing you over the edge with a twist of the stomach, shaking legs that struggle to stay perched on his shoulders and a verse of soft pleas and eddie’s that resemble a hymn. 

“.. jesu- shit,” shuddering breaths and mewls that fill the room, letting him lap away at your spent cunt. your limbs mimic jelly, letting go of your hold on his hair to clasp his face. 

eddie re-emerges, licking his lips like a cat that got the cream. self-satisfied and completely smug. 

coming up to rest his chin on your heaving stomach with inquisitive eyes, his rough stubble catching on your tired skin, “worth the wait?” as if he doesn’t already know the answer. 

you nod, rather enthusiastically, “definitely worth it,” playing with the tufts of hair that make up his choppy bangs. 

“good,” biting down onto his bottom lip just to pull himself back up, “but i’m not done with you yet,” prying your legs open once more before peeling his shirt from his body, a sight you’ve seen and yet can’t behold. 

eddie presses his already stiff cock to your cunt, toying with his prey. there’s nothing left in you to fight it, laying back on the couch with a soft sigh. 

no man would ever live up to this, you were now cursed to an unsatisfactory life with whomever you settled for. 

his pants come off next, your eyes falling to the outline of his length immediately. eyeing the tiny dark patch and certainly not thinking about him cumming in his pants while eating your pussy. 

you’ve seen his cock, and yet, your lips still fall open when he tucks his boxers underneath his balls, fisting his throbbing piece while you go googly-eyed. 

“shit,” he remarks, one hand on your knee while the other glides his leaking tip through your slick folds. “no one’s ever been this wet f’me before,” practically purring, his tone thick and full of an animalistic need you had thought was only reserved for porn. 

the pleasure rumbles around your nervous system, only to land in your stomach, squeezing the already-snapped muscle once again. 

eddie’s hand slides from your knee, up to your thigh, giving your hip a well-meaning pinch before settling beside your head on the couch. your bodies melding into one as he comes down to meet you. 

his cock nestles in between once more, slipping inside with a harsh gasp and a visceral grunt. you settle for a grip of his taut shoulders, fingers curling around the muscles and smudgy black tattoos. 

this time, eddie buries his face into your neck, suckling at the soft skin, daring to leave his mark when his teeth come out to graze. you hope they last forever, marked by him for eternity. 

the sensation is all too much, struggling to stay afloat once more, pushed further and further to edge when his tongue swipes over the violet markings that littered your collarbone. 

“holy fuck princess,” he grumbles, partially muffled, “y’gonna cum again already?” breathing heavy and stuttered, struggling with his own premature orgasm. 

words don’t appear, and honestly, at this point they didn’t mean a thing. 

instead, you nod, squeezing his shoulder in a bid to communicate. you unravel all over again, drawn out moans that get cut off by his lips, thighs shaking around his midriff. 

eddie was drinking it all in, intercepting the sweet noises from your mouth with his own, rolling his hips at a more subdued pace as you cum again. 

you were spent, utterly exhausted though he doesn’t let up. once you’re over this climax, his rhythm finds pace again. soft palm caressing your cheek while his lips attach to your jaw bone, planting a hundred quick kisses along up to your ear. 

with one knee dug into the couch, the other leg holding him up from the floor, it couldn’t be very comfortable for him like this. your pleasure was first and foremost his priority, a real man. 

he grunts, driving into your cunt with little consideration for the creaky old couch or your neighbours just trying to enjoy their saturday evening. 

“oh god eddie,” you cry. tugging at his scalp, pathetically rutting back against his hips begging for your third? fourth? orgasm to take over. 

his carefully groomed pubes catch your clit, dampened by the sheer amount of your arousal. 

you were just about ready to sleep for forty days and forty nights, both exhausted and overstimulated by his cock, the weight of his body on top of you and smooth words flowing from his mouth. 

“one more sweetheart,” speaking between rugged grunts, panting with every sloppy stroke, “gimme one more,” he coos, hand sliding down to find your clit for the last time. 

his cock twitches inside when you buck back against him, fingernails leaving harsh strips on his back, leaving your mark for the next girl. 

“shitshitshit,” you rush, coming completely undone again, trembling around his cock, babbling what must sound like pure nonsense to eddie. no doubt letting all of your deepest secrets loose in your third moment of weakness.

“mhm that’s it,” letting his cock slide all the way out, just to reach the hilt over and over again. “inside?” was all he needed to huff for you to get the message, too incoherent to ask any further questions. 

“ye-yes please,” not quite understanding the weight of your words until they leave your mouth. a problem for tomorrow. 

with that, eddie topples over, his orgasm rippling through his limbs and his cock pumping thick ropes of his release inside your exhausted pussy. your cries intertwining in the hot air to create a chorus line of pleasure. 

“jesusfuckingchrist,” he heaves, collapsing in a fit of exhaustion. a sticky pile of limbs that starts with you and ends somewhere with eddie. 

everything feels surreal, the light is gleaming and you sort of feel as if you’re floating, watching him pepper your skin with quick kisses and slot himself comfortably on the cramped couch. 

eddie cradles your body, fixing your top to give you back the tiniest bit of dignity you had left. 

he hums, contemplating something, “‘m glad you called,” swooning, “i don’t know what i’d have done if you hadn’t,” positioning himself underneath your body, a strong arm coming to wrap around your shaking shoulder. 

“you would’ve just had to live without me,” chuckling into the sweaty skin of his chest, embracing the lingering arrogance. 

eddie hums before shaking his head, “nuhuh, we would’ve met again somehow,” running his finger up and down the length of your arm. 

“oh, you think?”

“no, i know,” oozing with confidence. you simply can’t hate it because he’s right. 

there’s no instance that your soul would’ve let you rest until this had happened.

[junrenjun]

11:21 AM

lee donghyuck (haechan) x reader

You can’t help but laugh as you take in your husband’s appearance. A larger version of your son’s football jersey sits loosely on his frame. Matching purple eye black runs under his eyes. You can’t bring yourself to complain though because he looks good. “Isn’t this a little much for peewee football?” you ask him jokingly, running your finger just under the line on his cheek. 

“Absolutely not,” he responds before planting a wet kiss to the top of your forehead. “Mark and Jeno are wearing the same thing,” he tells you with a proud smile on his face. 

You roll your eyes at his antics. “I’m sure their wives are thrilled about that,” you joke, reaching out to straighten the chains that hang around his neck. “Did you get all dressed up for me or for Melissa?” you ask with a quirk of an eyebrow. 

Donghyuck groans at the mention of the team mom of his son’s football team. The woman really needs to learn to keep her hands to herself. She may be single but he sure as hell is not. “Only you baby,” he says, wrapping his hand around your wrist to halt your movements. 

You look up at him again and he smirks back down at you. Without wasting a second, his lips are on yours, working fervently against your mouth. Just as you grant his tongue access, there’s a small shout of “Mom!” from across the hallway and you separate. 

“We’ll continue this later,” you tell him, side stepping around the bed to head to your son’s room. Donghyuck doesn’t hesitate to give your ass a little smack when you do so. You roll your eyes and give him the finger over your shoulder. 

Thirty minutes later, everyone is situated in the car. Your son chatters happily about how excited he is, while your husband listens and nods from the driver’s seat. His hand is lazily thrown over the console, loosely holding your own. 

Donghyuck has barely put the car in park at the complex when your son grabs his bag and practically sprints out of the car. You both watch as he approaches the field, joining his team to put on his gear and warm up. A small contented sigh leaves your mouth. You lean back against the headrest and close your eyes. 

You’re only granted a few moments of peace before your husband disturbs you. His hand slips from its place on the console to your upper thigh, where he gives it a quick squeeze. Your eyes shoot open. “Hyuck…” you warn.

“‘...’m not doing anything,” he mumbles, eyes zeroed in on the plush skin underneath his hand. 

A scoff escapes you at his statement. You don’t get a chance to shoot back a smart remark, because his other hand reaches out and pulls your face towards him. Before you know it, his lips are crashing against yours. His mouth moves roughly against your own and you can feel your own desire increasing by the second. You reach up, placing your hands on either side of his face and pulling him closer. 

Your little moment is quickly interrupted by a knock on the driver’s side window. When Donghyuck turns his head, you catch a glimpse of Mark with his hands in his pockets and a disgruntled look on his face. Unsurprisingly, his outfit matches your husband’s to a tee. Hyuck rolls down the window.

“You guys are nasty little voyeurs, man. We’re at a children’s football game,” Mark calls out to you both. “Game starts in 15 minutes,” he continues, looking down at his watch. “And you might want to fix that,” he says, gesturing to the eye black that mirror’s Donghyuck’s, before turning around and walking back to his wife. 

Sure enough, when your husband turns back to you, the purple has smudged further down his cheek. “Sorry,” you giggle to him, while reaching out to fix it as best as you can. 

One of his hands reaches down to rest on your thigh again. “Our son is going to sleep pretty well after this game, right?” he asks you. 

“Probably, why?” you ask as you lean back to observe your work. 

Donghyuck leans down and presses his lips to your ear before whispering, “I want to give him a sibling.” You smack his chest as hard as you can and he leans back, howling in laughter.

“Great,” you tell him with a deadpan expression. “Now I’m going to be wet walking into my son’s football game.”

His Adam’s apple bobs in response. “Mmm maybe I should keep it up. Would probably keep Melissa away,” he teases.

You smack him again. “Stop talking about another woman when you just said you wanted to put a baby in me.”

Donghyuck simply smirks in response before turning off the car and unbuckling his seatbelt. He whips his head toward you, taking you by surprise. “Last to the field has to do the dishes tonight,” he says, before sprinting out of the car the same way his son had. You shake your head before running after him. 

[ponderingmoonlight]

Kento bringing his baby daughter to work so she can meet the first years! And Gojo… (who she ends up loving making Kento jealous 😭)

“Are you sure this sits right with you love? I don’t want you to do something because you’re feeling uncomfortable.”

Oh so gently, your husband grabs you by your waist and pulls you closer.

“You didn’t enjoy a day with your friends since I can remember. You deserve to have a little time for yourself.”

“But not if that means you are forced to take our daughter to work-“

“Forced? Apart from you, she’s what I’m most proud of. Please don’t worry, darling. This is nothing but a short day at Jujutsu High”, he soothes you while placing a small kiss on your forehead.

To be honest, there are a lot of things Kento Nanami would rather do than taking his baby girl to meet those jerks at school. But if it means you’ll have a day off to go shopping and enjoy yourself, he’d do everything he can.

“I’ll text you when I’m back. Have a nice trip and don’t hesitate to buy something.”

Nanami arrives at Jujutsu High with his baby daughter nestled securely against his chest in a soft carrier with that unsettling feeling rising in his chest.

This day will be exhausting.  

The minute he sets one foot inside the classroom, everything goes silent. In fact, it takes the first years a couple of seconds to actually register that this is him, that this is the usually so cool and composed Kento Nanami standing in front of him – with a baby nestled against his chest.

“She’s so tiny!” Nobara gasps, immediately rushing over, her hands reaching out before she hesitates.

“Wait, can I hold her? Will she break?”

Nanami adjusts the straps of the carrier, his lips pressing into a flat line.

“She’s not made of glass, but no, you can’t her yet.”

Megumi, ever the observant one, tilts his head.

“She looks just like you,” he comments, noting the serious set of the baby’s expression.

Even at such a young age, she seems to have inherited Nanami’s unimpressed stare.

Yuji, on the other hand, is all but vibrating with excitement.

“She’s adorable! Look at her little cheeks!”

He grins and waves like a maniac.

“Hi, baby Nanamim!”

Your baby, snug against her father’s chest, blinks up at them, her tiny fingers clenching into the fabric of his shirt. Then, her gaze shifts, and her entire demeanor changes.

“Ah,” Gojo comments, dramatically placing a hand over his heart while entering the room.

“A little lady with refined taste. She already knows true greatness when she sees it.”

Nanami sighs as his daughter reaches her chubby arms out toward Gojo, her usual serious face replaced with sheer delight. She babbles excitedly, tiny legs kicking against the carrier as if demanding to be picked up.

Betrayal. Utter betrayal is everything Nanami feels.

When you told him about the way his daughter looked at Gojo when you visited a few days earlier, he thought that you were joking. After all, there’s no way his daughter would actually fall for that jerk, right?

Gojo doesn’t hesitate, stepping forward with a broad grin.

“Oh? Do you want Uncle Gojo to hold you?”

He barely waits for permission before scooping her up, spinning her lightly in the air, making her giggle - a sound so rare that everyone stares in awe.

Nanami pinches the bridge of his nose.

“This is a mistake.”

“Correction: This is destiny,” Gojo counters, holding her up as if she’s the Lion King cub.

“She’s chosen me.”

“She’s a baby,” Nanami replies dryly, watching as his daughter happily grabs at Gojo’s sunglasses, yanking them down to reveal his eyes. She coos, utterly enchanted.

Gojo laughs, winking.

“Guess I have a new favorite person. Sorry, Nanami.”

Nanami crosses his arms, watching his daughter adore Gojo with increasing jealousy.

“You’ll be returning her now.”

“Aw, but she loves me,” Gojo whines, spinning her again just to hear her delighted giggle.

“She sees the truth! That I am-”

“Gojo, if you finish that sentence, I will use my overtime hours just to deal with you.”

Gojo pouts but hands her back, though not before whispering,

“We’ll hang out again soon, princess. Hey, maybe your wife likes me that much as well-”

“Shut. Up.”

Nanami glares as his daughter makes grabby hands at Gojo even in his arms.

Utter. Betrayal.

[nightpoemz]

★☆*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡. . .｡.:*･' ૮ .◜◡◝ა '･*:.｡. . .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*☆★

bsf!jeno when camgirl!you ask him for help

pt. 2 of bsf!dreamies when camgirl!you ask them for help (lowkey requested, but i kinda wanted to try writing smth)

wordcount: ~2.1k

smut, consensual filming, dom-ish!jeno, groping, hair pulling, hickey, scratching, missionary and doggy, idk just fucking in general

an: uhh so i blacked out and wrote this… it took me 3h _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): so let's all be nice about any mistakes that i made. minors dni! ★

★☆

knock, knock.

you glanced at your phone- 8pm sharp. jeno was 30 minutes early. "a little overexcited, aren't we," you mumbled to yourself. you pushed yourself off the couch and walked to the door. before jeno could knock again, it swung open.

"you're early," you smiled and gave him a quick hug.

"wasn't sure if i needed to prepare anything besides condoms, so i showed up early just in case." jeno took off his shoes and stepped into your apartment.

he looked around and chuckled at the mess. "don't laugh, i was going to clean in a bit…" "when? five minutes before i was supposed to arrive?"

he clocked you. of course he knew- he was your best friend, after all.

"don't worry, the streaming room is pretty well-organized and clean, if you ask me."

he raised an eyebrow. "your streaming room?"

you pointed at your former guest room. "turned it into a streaming room. needed more space and privacy."

"so no more guests unless you're fucking them?"

"i haven't had any guests that slept over in ages. and you're the only one i've asked to fuck so far."

"so far?"

you smacked his shoulder and shook your head. with one swift movement, he grabbed your hand and waist, pulling you closer.

"don't worry, i'll make sure you won't need to ask anyone else to be your 'guest'."

you were speechless. had he always been this bold? you knew how attractive jeno was, but this was a completely different side of him. the tension was unbearable- dizzying even.

"uhm- how about i go change and get ready real quick, so i can explain what i had in mind for today."

jeno let go of you with a smirk and gave a small nod.

"make yourself comfortable. i've got drinks and snacks on the counter." you quickly shuffled to your bedroom and shut the door behind you.

"get a grip. it's just jeno… 'just jeno'- who am i kidding?"

was it excitement or regret creeping over you? you shook your head and gave yourself a couple of smacks to calm down. rummaging through your closet, you grabbed your favorite lingerie set and a silk nightgown- just enough to tease without exposing everything.

after a quick shower, you stepped out of the bathroom to find jeno lounging on your couch, scrolling on his phone. when he looked up, his mouth parted slightly, his eyes unsure where to land.

"what? never seen a woman before?"

"never seen such a beautiful woman before."

his words were smooth like butter, and you couldn't help but blush. he stood up and walked toward you to get a better look. the closer he came, the hotter the room felt- or was it just you?

his hands instinctively landed on your waist.

"so, what did you have in mind?" his eyes never left your body.

you put a finger under his chin, raising his gaze from your cleavage to your face.

"since i wasn’t sure how this would go, i thought we could film offline today. if anything turns out awkward, i can just cut it and use the rest as a bonus for my subscribers."

"sure, whatever works for you. mind if i take a quick shower too?"

"no, go ahead. fresh towels are on the shelf. i'll set up the camera in the meantime."

jeno nodded and released your waist again, but his touch lingered.

—————

you set up the camera on a tripod, facing the bed, then grabbed a couple of towels and waited patiently.

not long after, the door opened. jeno stood in the doorway- wet hair dripping, towel loose around his hips.

you gulped.

you'd seen him shirtless before, but this was different. your mouth watered like a victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time. the water trailed slowly over his defined muscles, the towel barely hanging on for dear life.

"thought it was kinda pointless to get dressed if i was just going to undress again," he said, running his fingers through his hair.

you snapped out of your daze and nodded.

"just lay down while i turn on the camera."

you were more flustered than you'd like to admit.

jeno got comfortable on the bed and tossed the towel aside. you hit record. turning back around, your whole body screamed to jump his bones.

"i wasn't lying when i said it wasn't teeny tiny," he chuckled.

it was long and girthy. not even fully erect, and you already knew you couldn't go back after this.

"don't worry. i can handle it," you winked.

climbing onto the bed, you settled on his lap. jeno sat up, placing both hands on your hips.

"how do you wanna start, pretty girl?"

"a little makeout session wouldn't hurt," you said, placing a hand on his cheek.

without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed you. his grip on your hips tightened, making you wince.

you started slow and tender, but it wasn't enough. you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulled him closer, and gave his bottom lip a soft bite, running a hand through his hair.

a low moan escaped his lips as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. his hands explored more, moving down to your thighs, giving them a squeeze before sliding under your nightgown.

the cold touch made you shiver but only turned you on more. your hips shifted.

"fuck," you whispered, slipping off your gown.

this was the first time he'd seen you so exposed. your lingerie barely covered anything, and he could already feel you dripping onto his shaft.

"touch me more," you pleaded, grabbing his hand.

"no need to tell me twice."

his hands cupped your boobs, slowly massaging them. jeno's hands were big and manly, but his touch was gentle. his thumbs brushed over your barely clothed nipples, making your breath hitch.

you couldn't wait.

you unclasped your bra and tossed it aside.

"someone’s impatient," he whispered, lips brushing your skin.

"just enjoy it. i won't be gentle for long."

"is that a warning or a promise?"

"however you want to take it."

from the sound of his voice, it was definitely a promise.

he kissed your neck, drawing moans from your lips.

"i'll give you a little souvenir," he said, sucking until a bruise formed on your skin.

your moans were music to his ears. he couldn't get enough, he wanted to hear it more.

he wanted to hear you moan his name more.

jeno moved you off his lap. now you had a full view of his fully erect dick- your stomach dropped.

"lay down," he said, voice low. you followed.

he grabbed a condom and rolled it on with ease.

"ready?" he hovered above you.

"yes, please," you nodded, never feeling more ready.

he aligned himself with your entrance and slowly slid in. the stretch made you grimace.

"don't worry, i'll go slow," he reassured you with a soft kiss.

inch by inch, he filled you completely.

"are you okay, baby?"

the way he made you feel safe; it was the hottest thing alive.

"y-yeah… just give me a couple seconds to adjust. then you can start moving."

he waited patiently until your breathing was calm enough for him to move. and as he looked at you, his heart skipped a beat.

"gosh, you're so tight," he groaned as he began moving faster.

he hit every spot you couldn't reach yourself. toys had nothing on jeno's dick.

"nngh- faster, please," you gasped. this is exactly what he wanted to hear.

he bit his lips as he held back a moan. you grabbed his face. "no- jeno, i-i want to hear you. d-don't hold back."

he chuckled. of course you wanted that and who was he to deny you?

he pressed his forehead to yours, picked up the pace, and when he finally moaned something in you snapped.

"jeno-" you choked out, twitching beneath him as you came.

he didn't stop. you didn't want him to. you wanted more, you needed more.

"more… jeno… more…"

his thrusts turned rougher. your nails dragged down his back, making him groan.

"kiss me," you begged.

one look into your pleading eyes and he lost it.

he kissed you like he was trying to ruin you and it matched every single thrust.

you moaned into his mouth.

"i'm gonna-"

before you could finish, he pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.

"ass up," he ordered, giving you a firm spank.

once in position, he grabbed the camera off the tripod and slid back inside.

one hand held the camera above your ass; the other gripped your hip, making sure you took every inch.

the faster he moved, the louder you got. you tried to bury your face in a pillow, but jeno wasn't having it.

he tossed the camera back on the tripod, grabbed your hair, and yanked your face out of the pillow.

"don't muffle yourself. i want everyone to hear how i'm making you feel."

"je-" you couldn't even form full words at this point, without being interrupted by your moans.

he let go of your hair, gripping your hips with both hands, nails digging into your skin.

every thrust rougher than the last.

your eyes rolled back, almost seeing the pearly gates of heaven. your fists clenched the sheets until your knuckles turned white.

"this is what i wanna hear."

your moans were unstoppable now.

you'd lost count of how many times you came, while this man had endless stamina.

"ugh- i think i'm gonna cum," he groaned, throwing his head back.

his pace got sloppier. both your bodies tensed.

finally, he slowed down, riding out his orgasm.

he pulled out carefully and your body collapsed. jeno lay beside you, laughing softly.

"what's so funny?"

"i thought you said you'd be able to handle me." he leaned in, kissing your forehead.

you glared, flipping him off. if you weren't so exhausted, you'd have something smart to say.

your mind was hazy. your body throbbed.

meanwhile, jeno looked perfectly fine.

"alright, ready to stream now?"

"b-but… i just-" you mumbled.

he gently took your chin and made you face him.

"you'll be fine. they'll love seeing you like this."

☆★

masterlist

[pucksandpower]

To Hell With Duty

Lewis Hamilton x soulmate!Reader

Summary: you’ve always known that being Princess of the UK means that a soulmate is a luxury you can’t afford … but then you meet your soulmate and decide that some things are worth turning your back on duty for

Warnings: abusive family dynamics

Note: I promised to write something in honor of Lewis’ win and this was born (now I’m tempted to make a soulmate AU series)

The sun blazes overhead as you step out of the sleek black car, your designer heels clicking against the pavement. The roar of engines and the excited chatter of the crowd at Silverstone envelop you, but you can barely hear them over the pounding of your own heart.

“Your Royal Highness, this way please,” a smartly dressed aide gestures towards the paddock area.

You nod, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. As you walk, you absently rub your wrist, feeling the slight raised bumps of your soulmate mark beneath the carefully applied concealer.

“I wish you didn’t have to hide it,” your best friend and lady-in-waiting, Sophie, whispers beside you.

“You know I don’t have a choice,” you murmur back, glancing around to ensure no one overheard.

The memory of your brother’s ordeal flashes through your mind, as vivid and painful as the day it happened ...

“No, please! You can’t do this!” Edward’s anguished cries echoed through the palace halls.

You huddled in your room, hands pressed over your ears, trying to block out the sound. But nothing could drown out your brother’s screams as the royal physician burned away his soulmate tattoo.

Later, when you snuck into his room, you found him curled up on his bed, cradling his bandaged wrist.

“Eddie?” You whispered, your voice small and frightened.

He looked up at you, his eyes red and puffy. “Y/N ... I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

You climbed onto the bed beside him. “Why did they do it? Why can’t you be with your soulmate?”

Edward sighed, pulling you close. “Because we’re royals, little sister. Our marriages are about duty, not love. Soulmates ... they’re a luxury we can’t afford.”

“But that’s not fair!” You protested.

“No, it’s not,” he agreed, his voice hollow. “But it’s the price we pay for our position. Promise me something, Y/N. If you ever find your soulmate ... run. Run far away and don’t look back.”

The memory fades as Sophie gently squeezes your arm, bringing you back to the present.

“Are you okay?” She asks, concern etched on her face.

You take a deep breath, straightening your shoulders. “I’m fine. Let’s get this over with.”

As you make your way through the paddock, you can’t help but feel a twinge of envy at the carefree laughter and excitement around you. Everywhere you look, people are proudly displaying their soulmate tattoos, some comparing them with friends, others stealing glances at strangers, wondering if today might be the day they meet their perfect match.

“Your Royal Highness,” a race official greets you with a bow. “We’re honored to have you here today. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the VIP area.”

You nod, allowing yourself to be led through the crowded paddock. The official drones on about the day’s schedule, but your mind wanders.

“What do you think your soulmate is like?” Sophie had asked you once, years ago, when you were both giggling teenagers.

“I don’t know,” you had replied, tracing the words on your wrist. “But I hope they’re kind. And funny. Someone who sees me for who I am, not just my title.”

“You’ll find them one day,” Sophie had said confidently. “And when you do, it’ll be magical.”

Now, surrounded by the bustle and excitement of race day, that conversation feels like a lifetime ago. You’ve long since resigned yourself to the fact that you’ll never meet your soulmate. Even if you did, you could never act on it. The risk is too great.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the figure rounding the corner until it’s too late. You collide with a solid chest, stumbling backward. Strong hands grip your arms, steadying you before you can fall.

You look up, an apology on your lips, and find yourself staring into the most captivating brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Time seems to stand still as you gaze at each other, the world fading away around you.

And then he speaks, his voice low and warm.

“Whoa there, careful Princess. I’ve got you.”

***

Your heart stops as Lewis’ words sink in. They’re an exact match to the tattoo hidden beneath layers of concealer on your wrist. For a moment, you’re frozen, lost in his warm brown eyes, your mind reeling with the implications of what just happened.

Then reality comes crashing down. You can’t do this. You can’t put him in danger. You can’t risk the pain your brother went through.

“I ... I have to go,” you stammer, pulling away from his gentle grip.

Lewis’ brow furrows in confusion. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

But you’re already backing away, panic rising in your chest. “I’m sorry, I can’t ... this isn’t ... I have to leave.”

You turn and run, pushing past startled onlookers, your heart pounding in your ears. Behind you, you hear Lewis call out.

“Princess, wait! Your words ... they’re on my wrist!”

You falter for a moment, his words piercing through your panic. But no, it doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. You keep running.

“Y/N, please!” Lewis’ voice is closer now. He’s chasing after you. “I know you felt it too. We need to talk about this!”

You duck around a corner, trying to lose him in the maze of the paddock. But Lewis is faster, more familiar with the layout. He catches up to you in a quiet area behind one of the garages.

“Princess,” he says, slightly out of breath. “Please, just hear me out.”

You shake your head, tears threatening to spill. “You don’t understand. We can’t do this. My family ... they’ll never allow it. They’ll hurt you, or worse.”

Lewis takes a cautious step closer. “What do you mean? Why would your family hurt me?”

“Because you’re my soulmate!” The words burst out before you can stop them. “And royals aren’t allowed to be with their soulmates. It’s all about duty and arranged marriages. They ... they burned off my brother’s mark when he found his soulmate.”

Lewis’ eyes widen in horror. “That’s barbaric. They can’t do that to you.”

You laugh bitterly. “They’re the royal family. They can do whatever they want.”

“No,” Lewis says firmly. “They can’t. Because I won’t let them.”

You look at him, confused. “What?”

Lewis takes your hand gently, his touch sending sparks through your body. “Y/N, I’m not just British. I’m also a Brazilian citizen. And in Brazil, there are laws protecting soulmates. If we’re truly matched, which I believe we are, you automatically gain Brazilian citizenship too. Your family can’t touch you there.”

Hope flares in your chest, but you quickly squash it down. “It doesn’t matter. They’ll find a way. They always do.”

“Not this time,” Lewis insists. “Look, I have a race to drive soon, but after that, we can fly to Brazil immediately. I’ll keep you safe until then.”

You shake your head. “It’s too dangerous. If they find out ...”

“They won’t,” Lewis promises. “My driver’s room is private and secure. You can hide there until after the race. No one will think to look for you there.”

You hesitate, torn between hope and fear. “I don’t know ...”

Lewis squeezes your hand gently. “I know we just met, but I’ve been waiting my whole life to find you. Please, give us a chance. Let me protect you.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. Slowly, you nod. “Okay. But we have to be careful.”

Relief washes over Lewis’ face. “We will be. Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe.”

He leads you quickly through the paddock, taking care to avoid busy areas. You keep your head down, heart racing every time you pass someone. Finally, you reach a door marked with Lewis’ name.

“Here we are,” he says, ushering you inside. “Lock the door behind me and don’t open it for anyone but me. I’ll knock three times, pause, then twice more. Okay?”

You nod, taking in the small but comfortable room. “Okay. But Lewis, what about your race? You can’t miss it because of me.”

He smiles reassuringly. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll race, and then we’ll leave right after. It’ll be fine.”

“But what if something goes wrong? What if they find me?” The fear creeps back into your voice.

Lewis takes your hands in his, his touch grounding you. “Hey, look at me. Nothing is going to happen to you. I promise. We’re soulmates, remember? That means we’re in this together now.”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” he says softly. “But you’re also incredibly brave. You’ve lived with this fear your whole life, and you’re still standing. We can do this.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “We’ve known each other for all of ten minutes and you’re already saying ‘we’?”

Lewis grins. “Well, that’s what happens when you meet your soulmate, I guess. Everything changes in an instant.”

You laugh softly, feeling some of the tension leave your body. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Listen,” Lewis says, his tone turning serious. “I know this is all happening very fast, and I don’t expect you to fall in love with me right away or anything. We’ll take things as slow as you want once we’re safe. But right now, I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity and determination. Slowly, you nod. “Yes, I think I can.”

“Good,” Lewis smiles. “Now, I have to go get ready for the race. Remember, three knocks, pause, then two more. Don’t open for anyone else.”

“I won’t,” you promise. “Be careful out there, okay?”

Lewis’ smile widens. “Always am, Princess. I’ll see you soon.”

As he leaves, you lock the door behind him, your heart still racing. You sink onto the small couch, trying to process everything that’s happened in the last hour.

You’ve found your soulmate. After years of hiding your tattoo, of living in fear of it being burned away like your brother’s, you’ve actually met the person whose words are etched on your skin.

And not just any person. Lewis Hamilton. World-famous driver, activist, and fashion icon. You’ve seen him on TV, of course, admired his skill on the track and his passion for social justice. But you never imagined ...

You rub your wrist absently, feeling the slight raised bumps of your mark beneath the concealer. For the first time in years, you allow yourself to hope. Maybe, just maybe, you can have the life you’ve always dreamed of.

But doubt creeps in. What if Lewis is wrong? What if Brazilian citizenship isn’t enough to protect you from your family’s influence? What if they find you before you can leave?

You pace the small room, alternating between hope and fear. The sound of engines revving in the distance tells you the race is about to start. You find yourself holding your breath every time you hear footsteps pass by the door, terrified it might be palace security coming to drag you away.

Time crawls by agonizingly slowly. You try to distract yourself by watching the race on the small TV in the corner, but every time the camera focuses on Lewis’ car, your heart leaps into your throat. You silently urge him to be careful, to finish the race quickly so you can escape.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you hear it. Three knocks, a pause, then two more. You rush to the door, your hand hesitating for just a moment before you unlock it.

Lewis slips inside quickly, closing and locking the door behind him. He’s still in his race suit, his hair damp with sweat.

“Are you okay?” You ask immediately. “How was the race?”

Lewis grins. “I’m fine, and I won. But that’s not important right now. We need to go.”

He grabs a bag from a locker and starts shoving clothes into it. “I’ve arranged for a private jet to take us to São Paulo. We need to leave now, before anyone realizes you’re missing.”

You nod, your heart racing again. “Okay. What do we do?”

“I’ve got some clothing here that might fit you,” Lewis says, pulling out a hoodie and sweatpants. “Put these on over your clothes. We’ll need to be discreet getting to the airport.”

As you change, Lewis continues talking. “Once we’re in Brazil, we’ll be safe. There are strict laws protecting soulmates there. Your family won’t be able to touch you.”

“But what about your career?” You ask, suddenly realizing what he’s giving up. “You can’t just leave everything behind for me.”

Lewis pauses, looking at you intently. “Y/N, you’re my soulmate. That means you’re more important than any career, any amount of fame or money. We’ll figure out the details later, but right now, keeping you safe is all that matters.”

His words make your heart swell. You’ve never had anyone put you first like this before. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Lewis smiles. “Just trust me, okay?”

You nod, feeling a sense of calm settle over you despite the chaotic situation. “I do trust you. Let’s go.”

Lewis takes your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Ready?”

You take a deep breath, thinking of all you’re leaving behind — your family, your duty, the only life you’ve ever known. But as you look at Lewis, you realize you’re also stepping into a new life. One where you’re free to be yourself, to love who you want, to follow your heart.

“Ready,” you say firmly.

And with that, Lewis opens the door, and together, you step out into your new future.

***

The private jet hums softly as it cuts through the night sky, carrying you away from everything you’ve ever known. You’re curled up against Lewis on the plush leather seat, your head resting on his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your ear is oddly comforting, grounding you in this surreal moment.

Lewis’ arm is wrapped around you, his hand gently stroking your back. With your free hand, you trace the lines of his soulmate tattoo — your first words to him, now etched forever on his skin.

“I still can’t believe this is real,” you murmur, your fingers following the curves of each letter.

Lewis chuckles softly, the sound reverberating through his chest. “I know what you mean. I’ve imagined meeting you so many times, but nothing could have prepared me for the reality.”

You look up at him, a mixture of emotions swirling in your chest. “Weren’t you afraid? When you realized who I was?”

“Afraid?” Lewis considers for a moment. “No, not afraid. Excited, nervous, maybe a little overwhelmed. But not afraid.” He pauses, his expression growing serious. “But you were. You’re still afraid now, aren’t you?”

You nod slowly, dropping your gaze back to his wrist. “I’ve been afraid for so long, I’m not sure I know how to stop.”

Lewis’ hand moves to cup your face gently, encouraging you to look at him again. “Will you tell me about it? Help me understand?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. “It’s ... it’s not a pleasant story.”

“I’m here,” Lewis says softly. “Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

His words, so simple yet so profound, give you the courage to begin. “It started with my brother, Edward. He was always the rebellious one, you know? Always pushing boundaries, questioning traditions. When he found his soulmate, he was over the moon. Her name was Lily, and she was ... she was perfect for him. Kind, funny, passionate about the same causes he was.”

You pause, the memory of your brother’s joy contrasting sharply with what came after. Lewis waits patiently, his presence a comforting anchor.

“For a few months, they managed to keep it a secret. But eventually, someone saw them together. Word got back to our parents and ...” You shudder, remembering that awful day. “They were furious. They gave Edward an ultimatum: give up Lily or give up his place in the line of succession.”

“That’s horrible,” Lewis murmurs, his arm tightening around you.

You nod, continuing, “Edward refused. He said Lily was more important than any throne. So they ... they decided to take matters into their own hands.”

Your voice breaks as you recount what happened next. “They had the royal physician burn off Edward’s soulmate mark. I can still hear his screams echoing through the palace. It was ... it was torture.”

Lewis’ body tenses beneath you, his voice tight with anger when he speaks. “They had no right. How could they do that to their own son?”

“They said it was for the good of the country,” you reply bitterly. “That royals can’t afford the luxury of soulmates. Our marriages are political tools, nothing more.”

“What happened to Edward and Lily?” Lewis asks gently.

You sigh heavily. “Edward was never the same after that. The spark in him just ... died. He does his duty now, makes the appearances he’s supposed to, but it’s like he’s just going through the motions. And Lily ... last I heard, she moved to Australia. I think being anywhere near the UK was too painful for her.”

Lewis is quiet for a moment, processing your words. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Y/N. No wonder you were scared when you realized we were soulmates.”

You nod, feeling the weight of years of fear and secrecy lifting as you share your story. “That’s not even the worst of it,” you admit softly.

Lewis looks at you, concern etched on his face. “There’s more?”

You take another deep breath, steeling yourself for the hardest part of the story. “My father ... he had an older sister. Aunt Margaret. I never met her, but I found out about her a few years ago.”

Lewis listens intently as you continue, “She found her soulmate when she was young, maybe 20 or so. And she refused to give him up, no matter what my grandparents said. They tried everything — threats, bribes, even attempting to arrange another match for her. But Margaret stood firm.”

“She sounds brave,” Lewis comments.

You nod, a sad smile touching your lips. “She was. But bravery wasn’t enough. One night, both Margaret and her soulmate disappeared. The official story was that they’d eloped, run off to start a new life together. But that wasn’t the truth.”

Lewis’ body tenses again, as if bracing for what’s coming. You press on, the words tumbling out now that you’ve started.

“Margaret’s soulmate was ... dealt with. Permanently. And Margaret herself was institutionalized. Locked away in a private facility, hidden from the world.”

“That’s ... that’s monstrous,” Lewis breathes, horror evident in his voice.

You nod, feeling tears prick at your eyes. “When I found out, I couldn’t believe it. I managed to find out where she was being held and I ... I visited her.”

Lewis’ hand resumes its gentle stroking of your back, encouraging you to continue.

“She was ... god, Lewis, she was just a shell. Decades of being locked away, of being separated from her soulmate ... it had broken her. She didn’t even seem to realize I was there.”

A tear escapes, rolling down your cheek. Lewis gently wipes it away with his thumb.

“That’s why I was so scared,” you whisper. “I’ve seen what my family is capable of. What lengths they’ll go to in order to keep up appearances, to maintain their idea of duty.”

Lewis is quiet for a long moment, his arms tightening around you protectively. When he finally speaks, his voice is filled with a mix of anger and determination.

“Listen to me, Y/N,” he says firmly. “What happened to your brother, to your aunt ... it was wrong. Cruel and wrong. But I promise you, I will not let that happen to us.”

You look up at him, seeing the fierce protectiveness in his eyes. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because we’re not alone in this,” Lewis explains. “We have resources they don’t. My citizenship, for one. The laws protecting soulmates in Brazil. And beyond that, we have the power of public opinion.”

You frown, not quite understanding. “What do you mean?”

Lewis shifts slightly, his expression thoughtful. “Think about it. Your family’s power comes from public support, right? What do you think would happen if the world found out they were separating soulmates, institutionalizing people?”

“It would be a scandal,” you realize, your eyes widening.

“Exactly,” Lewis nods. “We’re not helpless. If they try anything, we can fight back. We can tell our story, rally support. The world has changed a lot. People believe in the sanctity of soulmates now more than ever.”

His words spark a tiny flame of hope in your chest. “You really think we could do that?”

“I know we could,” Lewis says confidently. “But more than that, I don’t think we’ll have to. Your family isn’t stupid. They’ll realize the risk isn’t worth it. Especially not with someone as high-profile as me.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that. “Modest, aren’t you?”

Lewis grins, the tension of the moment breaking. “Hey, I’m just stating facts. Seven-time world champion, remember?”

You roll your eyes playfully, but then grow serious again. “Lewis ... thank you. For listening, for understanding. For not running away when you realized how complicated this all is.”

“Hey,” Lewis says softly, tilting your chin up so you’re looking directly into his eyes. “You’re my soulmate. That means we’re in this together, complications and all. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words wash over you, soothing fears you’ve carried for so long. For the first time, you allow yourself to truly believe that maybe, just maybe, you can have this. You can have him.

“So,” you say, a small smile playing on your lips. “What happens now?”

Lewis grins, his eyes twinkling with excitement and possibility. “Now? Now we start our adventure. We land in São Paulo, get your citizenship sorted out, and then ... well, then the world’s our oyster. We can go anywhere, do anything.”

“Anything?” You ask, the concept of such freedom almost dizzying.

“Anything,” Lewis confirms. “We could travel the world. Or we could find a quiet place to settle down if that’s what you prefer. We could work on charitable causes together, or you could pursue whatever dreams you’ve had to put aside because of your royal duties.”

The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one more exciting than the last. “I ... I don’t even know where to start,” you admit.

Lewis chuckles, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We don’t have to decide everything right now. We’ve got time. For now, let’s just focus on getting to Brazil safely. We can figure out the rest as we go.”

You nod, settling back against his chest. The steady beat of his heart syncs with the hum of the jet engines, lulling you into a sense of peace you haven’t felt in years.

As you drift off to sleep, wrapped in the safety of your soulmate’s arms, you realize something. For the first time in your life, you’re not afraid of the future. Instead, you’re excited to see what it holds.

Whatever comes next, you’ll face it together. You and Lewis, two halves of a whole, finally united. The journey ahead may be uncertain, but with him by your side, you’re ready for anything.

***

As the private jet touches down on Brazilian soil, a mixture of excitement and nervousness flutters in your stomach. Lewis gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as the plane rolls to a stop.

“Ready?” He asks, his warm brown eyes meeting yours.

You take a deep breath and nod. “As I’ll ever be.”

The cabin door opens, and the humid Brazilian air rushes in. Lewis leads you down the steps, his hand never leaving yours. At the bottom, a tall woman in a crisp suit waits, her dark hair pulled back in a neat bun.

“Mr. Hamilton,” she greets with a warm smile, extending her hand. “And Your Royal Highness. Welcome to Brazil. I’m Dr. Raquel Santos from the Department of Soulmate Affairs.”

Lewis shakes her hand. “Dr. Santos, thank you for meeting us on such short notice.”

“Of course,” she replies, turning to you. “Your Highness, it’s an honor.”

You shake her hand, feeling slightly overwhelmed. “Please, just call me Y/N. I ... I’m not sure how much of a royal I am anymore.”

Dr. Santos’ smile softens. “Of course, Y/N. Why don’t we move this conversation somewhere more private? I have a car waiting to take us to a secure location where we can discuss everything in detail.”

You and Lewis follow her to a sleek black car. Once inside, Dr. Santos turns to face you both.

“First and foremost,” she begins, “I want to assure you that you are under the full protection of Brazilian law. As soon as you stepped off that plane, Y/N, you became entitled to all the rights and protections we offer to soulmates.”

“Just like that?” You ask, hardly daring to believe it could be so simple.

Dr. Santos nods. “Just like that. Brazil takes soulmate rights very seriously. We believe that the bond between soulmates is sacred and should be protected at all costs.”

Lewis leans forward, his expression serious. “What exactly does that protection entail? Y/N’s situation is ... complicated.”

“I understand,” Dr. Santos says. “Your assistant filled me in on some of the details during our phone call. Let me break down the key points for you.”

As the car glides through the streets of São Paulo, Dr. Santos begins her explanation.

“First, as the soulmate of a Brazilian citizen, Y/N is immediately eligible for Brazilian citizenship. We can begin the paperwork right away. This will provide an added layer of protection against any attempts at extradition.”

You feel a weight lift off your shoulders at her words. “So my family can’t force me to return to the UK?”

“Correct,” Dr. Santos confirms. “Brazil does not recognize any authority over soulmate bonds, not even royal decrees. Your status as a princess is irrelevant in the eyes of our law when it comes to your rights as a soulmate.”

Lewis squeezes your hand, a smile playing on his lips. “See? I told you we’d figure it out.”

Dr. Santos continues, “Furthermore, we have specific laws protecting soulmates from forced separation. Any attempt to interfere with your bond — be it physical separation, coercion, or even attempts to remove or alter your soulmate marks — is considered a serious crime in Brazil.”

You unconsciously rub your wrist where your tattoo is hidden. “What about ... what if they try to claim I’m mentally unfit or something? To try and invalidate my choices?”

Dr. Santos’ expression turns serious. “We’ve seen such tactics used before, unfortunately. That’s why we have safeguards in place. Any claims of mental unfitness would require extensive evaluation by multiple independent Brazilian psychiatrists.”

“And if they try to use their diplomatic influence?” Lewis asks.

“Brazil’s stance on soulmate rights is non-negotiable,” Dr. Santos states firmly. “We’ve stood up to pressure from other nations before, and we won’t hesitate to do so again. Your bond is protected here, regardless of external political pressures.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “This all sounds almost too good to be true.”

Dr. Santos smiles warmly. “I understand your caution, Y/N. But I assure you, these protections are very real and very enforceable. Now, let me explain some of the practical aspects of your situation.”

As the car turns onto a quieter street, Dr. Santos pulls out a tablet. “We’ll need to register your bond officially. This involves a simple verification process — usually just a visual confirmation of a matching font on your soulmate marks. Once registered, you’ll be issued official documentation of your bond status.”

“What does that documentation do?” You ask, leaning forward with interest.

“It serves several purposes,” Dr. Santos explains. “Firstly, it’s legal proof of your bond, which can be used to claim various rights and protections under Brazilian law. It also serves as a form of identification and can be used to expedite your citizenship application.”

Lewis nods thoughtfully. “And what about privacy? Given our high profiles, we’re concerned about information leaks.”

“An excellent question,” Dr. Santos says. “We take privacy very seriously, especially in high-profile cases like yours. All information related to your bond and Y/N’s presence in Brazil will be classified at the highest level. Only a select few government officials will have access to this information.”

You feel a surge of gratitude towards this woman and the country she represents. “Dr. Santos, I can’t thank you enough for all of this.”

She smiles warmly. “It’s my pleasure. Protecting soulmates is not just my job, it’s my passion. Now, let’s discuss some of the support services available to you.”

As the car pulls up to a nondescript building, Dr. Santos continues her explanation. “We offer counseling services specifically tailored for soulmates who have faced separation or threats to their bond. These services are completely confidential and can be invaluable in helping you process your experiences and adjust to your new life.”

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I think ... I think that might be really helpful.”

Lewis wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “We’ll get through this together, love. Whatever you need.”

Dr. Santos leads you into the building and up to a comfortably furnished office. As you all take seats, she pulls out some forms.

“Now, I know this is a lot to take in,” she says gently. “But I’d like to start the official registration process, if you’re ready. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you’ll have legal protection.”

You look at Lewis, who gives you an encouraging nod. “Okay,” you say, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

As Dr. Santos begins to explain the forms, a thought occurs to you. “Dr. Santos, what about Lewis? How will all of this affect his career?”

Dr. Santos smiles. “I’m glad you asked. Mr. Hamilton, as a Brazilian citizen, you have the right to have your soulmate with you wherever your career takes you. We can provide diplomatic assistance to ensure Y/N can travel with you freely, without risk of detention or forced return to the UK.”

Lewis grins, looking relieved. “That’s fantastic news. I was worried I might have to give up racing.”

“Not at all,” Dr. Santos assures him. “We believe that soulmates should support each other’s dreams and ambitions. Our laws are designed to facilitate that.”

As you begin filling out the forms, a sense of surreal calm washes over you. For the first time in your life, you feel truly protected, truly free to be with the person you’re meant to be with.

“There’s one more thing,” Dr. Santos says as you finish the paperwork. “As part of our soulmate protection program, we offer a safe house service. It’s a secure location where you can stay while you adjust to your new situation and decide on your next steps. Would you be interested in that?”

You and Lewis exchange a look. “I think that might be a good idea,” Lewis says. “At least for a little while, until we figure things out. My home here isn’t exactly inconspicuous.”

You nod in agreement. “Yes, please. That sounds perfect.”

Dr. Santos smiles, clearly pleased. “Excellent. I’ll make the arrangements right away. The location is completely confidential and guarded 24/7. You’ll be safe there.”

As she stands to make some calls, you turn to Lewis, feeling overwhelmed by everything that’s happened.

“Lewis,” you say softly, “I can’t believe you’ve done all this for me. You’ve turned your whole life upside down.”

He takes your hands in his, his eyes shining with emotion. “You’re my soulmate. My whole life was leading up to finding you. Everything else? It’s just details we’ll figure out together.”

You lean in, resting your forehead against his. For the first time since you can remember, you feel truly, completely safe. Protected not just by laws and governments, but by the love of the person you were always meant to find.

As Dr. Santos returns to finalize the arrangements, you realize that this isn’t just the end of your old life. It’s the beginning of something new, something wonderful. A life where you’re free to love, free to be yourself, free to explore the bond that fate has given you.

Whatever challenges lie ahead, you know now that you won’t face them alone. You have Lewis, you have the protection of Brazilian law, and most importantly, you have hope. The future, once so terrifying, now shines with possibility.

And as you leave the office hand in hand with Lewis, ready to start your new life together, you can’t help but smile. Because for the first time, you’re not running away from something.

You’re running towards it.

***

The roar of engines and the buzz of excitement fill the air as you stand at the entrance to the Autódromo José Carlos Pace. Your heart pounds in your chest, a mix of nerves and exhilaration coursing through your veins. Lewis’ hand is warm and steady in yours, a constant reminder that you’re not alone.

“Are you ready for this?” Lewis asks, his brown eyes searching yours with concern.

You take a deep breath, squeezing his hand. “As ready as I’ll ever be. It’s time to stop hiding.”

Lewis nods, a proud smile lighting up his face. “That’s my girl. Remember, whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

With one last reassuring squeeze, Lewis leads you into the paddock. The moment you step into view, a hush falls over the nearby crowd. Then, like a wave, whispers and exclamations ripple outward.

“Is that ...”

“It can’t be ...”

“The princess!”

“With Lewis Hamilton?”

Cameras flash in a frenzy, and reporters surge forward, held back only by the security team flanking you and Lewis. You keep your head high, your hand firmly in Lewis’ as you make your way through the paddock.

A brave reporter manages to shout a question over the commotion. “Your Highness! Is it true you’ve been in hiding in Brazil?”

You pause, looking to Lewis. He gives you an encouraging nod. Taking a deep breath, you turn to face the press.

“Yes, it’s true,” you say, your voice steady despite your nerves. “I’ve been in Brazil for the past few months, under the protection of the Brazilian government.”

The questions come rapid-fire after that.

“Why did you leave the UK?”

“Are you and Lewis Hamilton really soulmates?”

“What does the royal family have to say about this?”

Lewis steps forward, his arm protectively around your waist. “We’ll be holding a press conference later to address all your questions. For now, we ask for your patience and understanding as we prepare for the race.”

As you continue through the paddock, you can’t help but think back on the tumultuous months that led to this moment ...

The first few weeks in Brazil had been a whirlwind of paperwork, security briefings, and adjusting to your new reality. You and Lewis had stayed in the safe house provided by the Brazilian government, venturing out only when necessary and always under heavy guard.

One morning, about a month into your stay, Dr. Santos had arrived with a grim expression.

“We’ve intercepted some concerning communications,” she had said, her usual calm demeanor tinged with worry. “It seems the British royal family has intensified their search for you, Y/N. They’re making threats.”

You had felt your heart drop. “What kind of threats?”

Dr. Santos had hesitated before answering. “They’re threatening to use their diplomatic influence to pressure Brazil into returning you. They’re also ... they’re suggesting that you might be mentally unfit, that you’ve been coerced or manipulated.”

Lewis had immediately pulled you close, his jaw clenched in anger. “They can’t do that. We won’t let them.”

“And we won’t,” Dr. Santos had assured you both. “Our stance on soulmate rights is non-negotiable. But I want you to be prepared. This might get ugly.”

And it had. Over the next few months, your family had tried everything. Diplomatic pressure, media manipulation, even attempts to infiltrate Brazilian government systems to locate you. But Brazil had stood firm, and you had remained safe.

A commotion near the Mercedes garage snaps you back to the present. You see a group of men in dark suits pushing their way through the crowd, their expressions grim and determined. Your blood runs cold as you recognize one of them — your father’s head of security.

“Lewis,” you whisper urgently, “they’re here.”

Lewis’ arm tightens around you as he quickly assesses the situation. “Stay calm. Remember the plan.”

As the men approach, the lead one steps forward, his voice loud and authoritative. “Your Royal Highness, by order of His Majesty the King, you are to return to the United Kingdom immediately.”

You feel all eyes on you, the paddock having gone deathly quiet. Taking a deep breath, you step forward, your voice clear and steady. “I’m afraid that won’t be possible. I am here of my own free will, protected by Brazilian law as the soulmate of a Brazilian citizen.”

The man’s expression hardens. “Your Highness, please don’t make this difficult. Your family is concerned for your well-being. They believe you may have been coerced or manipulated-”

“The only manipulation here,” Lewis interrupts, his voice sharp, “is coming from those who would separate soulmates for political gain.”

Just then, Dr. Santos appears, flanked by Brazilian officials. “Gentlemen,” she says coolly to the British security team, “I’m afraid you’re overstepping. Y/N is under the protection of the Brazilian government. Any attempt to remove her against her will would be considered means for an international incident.”

The head of security sputters, clearly not having expected this level of resistance. “This is a family matter-”

“No,” you interject, your voice stronger now. “This is a matter of human rights. The right to be with one’s soulmate. A right that Brazil recognizes and protects.”

Dr. Santos nods approvingly. “Furthermore, any claims of mental unfitness have been thoroughly disproven by independent psychiatric evaluation. Y/N is here of her own free will, in full possession of her faculties.”

The security team looks at each other uncertainly, clearly realizing they’re outmatched. The lead man makes one last attempt. “Your Highness, please. Your family misses you. They want you to come home.”

For a moment, you feel a pang of sadness for the life you left behind. But then you feel Lewis’ steady presence beside you, and you know you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

“I am home,” you say softly but firmly. “My home is with my soulmate, wherever that may be.”

The man opens his mouth to argue further, but Dr. Santos cuts him off. “Gentlemen, I believe it’s time for you to leave. Unless you’d like us to involve the authorities?”

Realizing they’re defeated, the security team begins to retreat. As they leave, you hear murmurs of admiration and support from the crowd that has gathered to watch the confrontation.

Lewis pulls you into a tight embrace. “You were amazing,” he whispers in your ear. “I’m so proud of you.”

As you pull back, you see reporters clamoring for comments, their cameras flashing incessantly. Dr. Santos steps forward to address them.

“A full press conference will be held later today,” she announces. “For now, I can confirm that Y/N, formally known as Her Royal Highness, is here legally and of her own free will as the soulmate of Lewis Hamilton. She is under the full protection of Brazilian law, and any attempts to interfere with their bond will be met with the full force of our legal system.”

As Dr. Santos continues to field questions, Lewis turns to you. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, his eyes searching yours.

You nod, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “I’m more than okay. For the first time, I feel ... free.”

Lewis grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Good. Because we’ve got a race to win.”

As you make your way to the Mercedes garage, you’re overwhelmed by the support you receive. Team members, other drivers, and even fans call out words of encouragement.

“We’ve got your back, Y/N!”

“Love wins!”

“You show ‘em, Lewis!”

Inside the garage, the team greets you warmly. Toto approaches with a smile.

“Y/N, Lewis,” he says, shaking both your hands. “That was quite an entrance. Are you sure you’re up for all this today?”

You nod firmly. “Absolutely. It’s time to show the world that love doesn’t make you weak. It makes you stronger.”

Lewis beams at your words. “Couldn’t have said it better myself. Now, let’s go win this race, yeah?”

As Lewis begins his pre-race preparations, you find a quiet corner to collect your thoughts. The events of the past few months flash through your mind — the fear, the uncertainty, but also the overwhelming love and support you’ve received.

You think about your family, about the life you left behind. There’s sadness there, but no regret. You’ve found something more precious than any crown — the freedom to love, to be yourself, to follow your heart.

A gentle hand on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts. You look up to see Lewis, now in his race suit, his helmet tucked under his arm.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He asks softly.

You smile, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Just thinking about how lucky I am. How grateful I am for you, for Brazil, for everyone who’s supported us.”

Lewis leans into your touch, his eyes shining with emotion. “We’re the lucky ones, Y/N. To have found each other, to have this chance at happiness. And I promise you, I’ll spend every day making sure you never regret your choice.”

You stand, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I could never regret choosing you. You’re my soulmate, my home, my everything.”

As you lean in for a kiss, the garage erupts in cheers and whistles. You break apart, laughing, to see the entire team watching with grins on their faces.

“Alright, lovebirds,” Toto calls out good-naturedly. “Save it for after the race. Lewis, you’ve got a championship to chase.”

Lewis gives you one last quick kiss before pulling on his helmet. “Watch me fly, Princess,” he says with a wink.

As he heads out to the track, you take your place in the garage, surrounded by your new family — the team that has embraced you without question. You feel a sense of belonging, of purpose, that you’ve never experienced before.

The roar of engines fills the air as the race begins. You watch Lewis navigate the track with precision and skill, your heart swelling with pride and love. This is your life now — the excitement of race day, the thrill of competition, but most importantly, the joy of being with your soulmate.

As Lewis crosses the finish line in first place, the garage erupts in celebration. You rush out to meet him in parc fermé, not caring about protocol or propriety. Lewis sweeps you up in his arms, spinning you around as the crowd cheers.

In that moment, with the sun shining down and the sound of celebration all around, you know that you’ve made the right choice. This is where you belong — by Lewis’ side, free to love and be loved, ready to face whatever challenges come your way.

Together.

***

The familiar scent of motor oil and rubber fills the air as you step onto British soil for the first time in over a year. Silverstone buzzes with excitement, but you can’t shake the nervous energy coursing through your veins. Lewis’ hand finds yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You okay?” He asks softly, his eyes searching yours with concern.

You take a deep breath, nodding. “I think so. It’s just ... strange being back.”

Lewis pulls you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Remember, you’re not alone. We’ve got security everywhere, and I’m right here with you.”

As if on cue, the head of your security team, a tall, no-nonsense woman named Maria, approaches. “Everything’s clear, Ms. Y/N. We’ve swept the entire area and have eyes on all entry points.”

You smile gratefully at her. “Thank you, Maria. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

Maria’s stern expression softens slightly. “Just doing our job, ma’am. Your safety is our top priority.”

As you make your way through the paddock, you can’t help but notice the stares and whispers that follow you. Some are curious, others admiring, and a few ... less than friendly. But your security team forms a protective barrier around you and Lewis, keeping any potential trouble at bay.

“Y/N! Lewis!” A familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Fred Vasseur approaching, a warm smile on his face. “Welcome back to Silverstone. How are you holding up?”

“It’s ... intense,” you admit. “But I’m glad to be here, supporting Lewis.”

Fred nods understandingly. “Well, you’ve got the whole team behind you. Anyone gives you trouble, they’ll have to answer to all of Ferrari.”

As you continue through the paddock, greeting team members and other drivers, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. Not just by the curious onlookers, but by someone ... familiar.

That’s when you see him. Standing near the VIP area, looking as regal and composed as ever, is your brother.

Your heart skips a beat. You haven’t seen Edward since that fateful day you ran away. Lewis, sensing your tension, follows your gaze.

“Is that ...” he asks quietly.

You nod, unable to find words. Lewis turns to Maria. “Can you make sure we have a private moment?”

Maria nods, already signaling to her team. Within moments, they’ve created a small bubble of privacy around you and Edward.

Edward approaches slowly, his expression unreadable. For a moment, you both just stand there, years of unspoken words hanging between you.

Then, to your surprise, Edward’s composure cracks. His eyes fill with tears as he pulls you into a tight embrace.

“Y/N,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you so much.”

You cling to him, your own tears falling freely. “Eddie ... I’m so sorry I left without saying goodbye. I just ... I couldn’t ...”

Edward pulls back, holding you at arm’s length. His eyes roam your face, as if memorizing every detail. “Don’t apologize. Not ever. What you did ... Y/N, I am so incredibly proud of you.”

His words catch you off guard. “Proud? But I abandoned the family, my duties ...”

Edward shakes his head firmly. “You chose love. You chose happiness. You did what I was too weak to do.”

You glance at Lewis, who’s standing a respectful distance away, giving you this moment with your brother. “Edward, this is Lewis. My soulmate.”

Edward extends his hand to Lewis. “It’s an honor to meet you, Lewis. Thank you for protecting my sister and giving her the happiness she deserves.”

Lewis shakes his hand, his expression sincere. “The honor is mine, Your Highness. Y/N is the bravest, most amazing person I know. I’m just lucky to be part of her life.”

Edward’s smile is tinged with sadness. “Please, call me Edward. And you’re right, she is amazing. Always has been.”

You look at your brother closely, noticing the lines of stress around his eyes, the slight slump in his shoulders. “Eddie ... how are you? Really?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It’s ... not easy. The family is in turmoil after your departure. Father is furious, Mother is heartbroken, and I’m ... well, I’m trying to hold it all together.”

“And Lily?” You ask softly, referring to Edward’s soulmate. “Have you heard from her?”

Edward’s expression clouds over. “No. Not since ... not since that day.”

You take your brother’s hand, squeezing it gently. “It’s not too late, you know. You could still reach out to her.”

Edward laughs bitterly. “And say what? ‘Sorry I let them burn off my soulmate mark and married someone else. Want to grab coffee?’”

Lewis steps forward, his voice gentle but firm. “With all due respect, Your High- Edward, it’s never too late. The bond between soulmates ... it’s not something that can be erased, no matter what’s done to the physical mark.”

Edward looks at Lewis, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “You really believe that?”

Lewis nods. “I do. Y/N and I found each other against all odds. Who’s to say you and Lily can’t do the same?”

You squeeze Edward’s hand again. “Eddie, you deserve to be happy. You deserve love. It’s not too late to choose yourself, to choose love.”

Edward looks torn, glancing around at the crowds, the cameras, the weight of expectation that’s always surrounded you both. “But the family ...”

“Will still be there,” you say softly. “But you’ll be facing them as your true self, with your soulmate by your side. It makes all the difference, trust me.”

Your brother is quiet for a long moment, clearly wrestling with years of ingrained duty and expectation. Finally, he looks up, a new determination in his eyes.

“You’re right,” he says, his voice growing stronger. “You’re absolutely right. I’ve spent too long living for everyone else. It’s time I lived for myself.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “Does this mean ...”

Edward nods, a mix of fear and excitement in his eyes. “I’m going to do it. I’m going to find Lily. I’m going to make things right.”

You throw your arms around your brother, hugging him tightly. “I’m so proud of you, Eddie. And I’ll be here for you, every step of the way.”

As you pull back, you see tears in Edward’s eyes, but also a lightness that you haven’t seen in years. “Thank you. For showing me that it’s possible to choose love. For being brave enough to pave the way.”

Lewis steps forward, placing a hand on Edward’s shoulder. “If you need any help — legal advice, security, anything — just say the word. You’re family now.”

Edward looks at Lewis gratefully. “Thank you. I might just take you up on that.”

Just then, Maria approaches discreetly. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we need to move. The press is getting restless.”

You nod, turning back to Edward. “Will you be okay?”

He takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “I will be. For the first time in a long time, I think I really will be.”

As you prepare to part ways, Edward pulls you in for one last hug. “I love you, little sister. Thank you for reminding me what’s truly important.”

“I love you too, Eddie,” you whisper back. “Go find your happiness. You deserve it.”

With one last squeeze, Edward steps back. As he walks away, you see him pull out his phone, a look of determination on his face. You have a feeling you know exactly who he’s about to call.

Lewis wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “You okay, love?”

You nod, wiping away a stray tear. “More than okay. I feel ... hopeful. For Eddie, for us, for everything.”

As you make your way back through the paddock, you’re struck by how different everything feels. The stares don’t bother you as much, the whispers fade into background noise. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, with the person you’re meant to be with.

“You know,” Lewis says as you reach the Ferrari garage, “I think I’m going to win this race.”

You raise an eyebrow, a smile playing on your lips. “Oh? And what makes you so sure?”

Lewis grins, pulling you close. “Because I’ve got my lucky charm by my side. How can I lose?”

You laugh, the sound light and free. “Well, in that case, you’d better not disappoint. I expect nothing less than a victory, Sir Hamilton.”

As Lewis leans in for a kiss, you’re vaguely aware of cameras flashing and people cheering. But none of that matters. What matters is this moment, this love, this life you’ve chosen.

You think back to a year ago, when you were terrified of finding your soulmate, of the consequences it would bring. Now, standing here at Silverstone, with Lewis by your side and the hope of your brother finding his own happiness, you realize that choosing love wasn’t just the brave choice.

It was the only choice.

As Lewis heads off to prepare for the race, you take your place in the garage. The roar of engines fills the air, and you feel a surge of excitement.

This is your life now. Supporting Lewis, championing love, and showing the world that sometimes, the greatest act of duty is being true to yourself.

As the race begins, you watch Lewis tear around the track, your heart swelling with pride and love. You may not wear a tiara anymore, but you’ve gained something far more precious — the freedom to love, to choose, to be yourself.

And as the chequered flag waves and Lewis crosses the finish line in first place, you know that this victory isn’t just his.

It’s yours. It’s Edward’s. It’s everyone who’s ever had the courage to choose love over duty, happiness over expectation.

As you rush to congratulate Lewis, wrapped in his arms as the crowd cheers, you know that this is just the beginning. There will be challenges ahead, obstacles to overcome. But with love by your side and the strength to be true to yourself, you’re ready to face whatever comes.

Because in the end, love always wins. And you? You’re living proof of that.

***

The warm Brazilian sun streams through the windows of the spacious beachfront home, filling the living room with a golden glow. The sound of children’s laughter mingles with the distant crash of waves, creating a symphony of domestic bliss.

You’re seated on the plush carpet, surrounded by an array of colorful toys. Your three-year-old daughter, Emilia, is busily stacking blocks, her little face scrunched in concentration. Across from you, Edward is attempting to wrangle his own two-year-old son, James, who seems more interested in knocking down Emilia’s creations than building his own.

“James, darling, let’s build our own tower, shall we?” Edward coaxes gently, redirecting his son’s attention.

You can’t help but smile at the scene. Five years ago, you never could have imagined this — you and Edward, raising your children together, free from the constraints of royal duty.

The sound of a door opening draws your attention. Lewis walks in, his arms full of grocery bags, closely followed by Lily.

“We come bearing snacks!” Lewis announces with a grin.

Emilia’s head snaps up at the sight of her favorite person. “Daddy!” She squeals, abandoning her blocks and running to Lewis.

Lewis sets down the bags just in time to scoop up his daughter, peppering her face with kisses. “Hello, my little racer. Have you been good for Mummy?”

Emilia nods enthusiastically. “I builded a big tower!”

“Built, sweetheart,” you correct gently, getting to your feet. “And it was a very impressive tower indeed.”

Lewis sets Emilia down and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “And how’s my other favorite girl doing?”

You smile, leaning into his embrace. “Better now that you’re home. How was the market?”

“Busy,” Lily chimes in, setting down her own bags. “But we managed to get everything on the list, plus a few extras.”

Edward stands, hoisting James onto his hip. “Extras, you say? Let me guess — more of those brigadeiros that you’re definitely not addicted to, right, love?”

Lily’s cheeks flush slightly as she laughs. “I plead the fifth. This baby wants what it wants.”

Your eyes light up at the reminder. Lily is five months pregnant with their second child, and you’re all buzzing with excitement.

“Speaking of the baby,” you say, moving to help unpack the groceries, “have you two decided if you’re going to find out the gender?”

Edward and Lily exchange a look. “We’re still debating,” Edward admits. “Part of me wants to know, but there’s also something nice about the surprise.”

Lewis chuckles, joining you in the kitchen. “I remember that debate. Though if I recall correctly, someone couldn’t handle the suspense and made me call the doctor at two in the morning to find out.”

You playfully swat his arm. “Hey, you were just as curious as I was!”

As you all work together to put away the groceries and prepare snacks for the kids, you’re struck by how natural this all feels. The easy banter, the shared responsibilities, the love that permeates every interaction. It’s a far cry from the rigid formality of your royal upbringing.

“You know,” Edward says, as if reading your thoughts, “sometimes I still can’t believe this is our life now.”

You nod, understanding completely. “I know what you mean. It’s so different from what we always thought our futures would be.”

Lily comes up behind Edward, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Different, but better, right?”

Edward turns, pulling her close. “Infinitely better. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

As you watch your brother with his soulmate, you feel a wave of happiness and gratitude wash over you. It hadn’t been easy for Edward to follow in your footsteps, to give up his place in the line of succession and choose love over duty. But seeing him now, so relaxed and genuinely happy, you know it was worth every struggle.

“Earth to Y/N,” Lewis’ voice breaks through your reverie. “Where’d you go just now?”

You smile, shaking your head. “Just thinking about how far we’ve all come. How different things could have been.”

Lewis nods, understanding in his eyes. “Do you ever regret it? Giving up your title, your life in England?”

You don’t hesitate for a second. “Never. This life, with you, with our family — it’s more than I ever dreamed possible.”

A sudden crash from the living room interrupts the moment. You all rush in to find James standing triumphantly atop a mountain of scattered blocks, while Emilia looks on in horror.

“James Edward Henry Albert Windsor!” Lily exclaims, trying to sound stern but failing to hide her amusement. “What have we said about destroying other people’s creations?”

James, looking not at all repentant, grins widely. “I king of the castle!”

Edward struggles to keep a straight face as he lifts his son off the block mountain. “Yes, well, kings should be builders, not destroyers. Let’s clean this up and then we can all build a castle together, okay?”

As you all pitch in to help clean up the blocks, Emilia tugs on your sleeve. “Mummy, will James be a real king someday?”

The question catches you off guard. You exchange a look with Edward, unsure how to explain the complicated reality of your family’s situation.

Lewis kneels down next to Emilia, his voice gentle. “No, sweetheart. James won’t be a king and you won’t be a princess. But that’s okay, because you get to be something even better.”

Emilia’s eyes widen with curiosity. “What’s that, Daddy?”

Lewis smiles, pulling her into a hug. “You get to be yourself. You get to choose who you want to be and what you want to do with your life. And that’s much more special.”

You feel tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the simple beauty of Lewis’ words. This is why you left, why you chose this life. So that your children could have the freedom you and Edward never had growing up.

As the afternoon wears on, you all migrate to the back patio. The kids play in the sand under the watchful eyes of their parents, while you, Lewis, Edward, and Lily relax on the comfortable outdoor furniture.

“So,” Lily says, her hand resting on her growing belly, “have you two given any thought to expanding your own family?”

You and Lewis share a knowing look. “Actually,” you say, unable to keep the excitement from your voice, “we’ve been thinking about it a lot lately.”

Edward raises an eyebrow. “Oh? Do tell, little sister.”

Lewis takes your hand, giving it a squeeze. “We’re thinking of adopting. There are so many children out there who need loving homes, and we have more than enough love to give.”

“That’s wonderful!” Lily exclaims, her eyes shining. “Oh, Emilia would love a little brother or sister.”

You nod, watching your daughter play. “We think so too. We’re just starting the process, but it feels right.”

Edward leans forward, his expression serious. “Have you thought about how this might affect things back in England? The press ...”

You sigh, having expected this question. “We have. And honestly, we’ve decided that it doesn’t matter what they think. This is our life, our family. We’re not going to let fear of judgment or outdated institutions dictate our choices anymore.”

Lewis nods in agreement. “We’ve already faced the worst they could throw at us. We came out stronger. Whatever comes next, we can handle it together.”

Edward’s serious expression melts into a proud smile. “You’re right, of course. I’m sorry, old habits die hard I suppose. I’m thrilled for you both, truly.”

As the conversation flows, touching on everything from potential names for Lily and Edward’s baby to Lewis’ upcoming ambassador campaign, you’re struck by how perfectly imperfect this life is. It’s messy and chaotic at times, full of unexpected challenges and joy in equal measure. But it’s real, and it’s yours.

The sun begins to set, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink. James and Emilia, tired from their day of play, curl up in their fathers’ laps. As you watch your brother gently stroke his son’s hair, you remember a conversation from years ago.

“Eddie,” you say softly, “do you remember what you told me the day they ... the day they burned off your soulmate mark?”

Edward looks up, his eyes clouding with the memory. “I told you that if you ever found your soulmate, you should run. Run far away and don’t look back.”

You nod, feeling Lewis’ arm tighten around you. “I’m so glad I took your advice. And I’m even more glad that you eventually followed it too.”

Edward smiles, looking down at James and then over at Lily. “So am I, Y/N. So am I.”

As the evening draws in, you all move inside. The kids are put to bed, their excited chatter about building sandcastles and racing cars fading into peaceful sleep. You, Lewis, Edward, and Lily settle in the living room, glasses of wine in hand (sparkling juice for Lily).

“A toast,” Lewis proposes, raising his glass. “To family, to love, and to the courage to choose our own path.”

“To freedom,” Edward adds, his eyes shining with emotion.

“To second chances,” Lily chimes in, her hand resting on her belly.

You raise your own glass, feeling a swell of emotion. “To us. All of us. And to the beautiful, chaotic, perfectly imperfect life we’ve built together.”

As you clink glasses, you catch Lewis’ eye. In that moment, you’re transported back to that day at Silverstone, when you first ran into each other. The fear, the excitement, the life-changing decision you made in an instant.

You wouldn’t change a thing.

As the night wears on and conversation flows freely, you realize that this — this warmth, this love, this freedom — this is what happily ever after really looks like. It’s not a fairy tale ending, but a beginning. A beginning of a life filled with love, choice, and the joy of being truly yourself.

And as you curl up in bed that night, Lewis’ arms around you and the sound of the ocean in the distance, you know that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

Your family’s story is still being written. And you can’t wait to see what the next chapter brings.

[simplygojo]

Friend-Of-A-Friend ⸺ Chapter Four

author's note ⸺ Hello all reading this!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! This series has gotten so much support I am so excited to take you all on this journey that is this fic. I have lovveeedddddd reading all the comments and hearing your thoughts, SO PLS KEEP IT COMING ILYSM <3 pairing ⸺ Suguru Geto x Reader content ⸺ platonic-bestie!gojo, corporate-worker!reader, slight tension, studying mentioned, modern au, the good-ole-days, reader uses female pronouns, 2.9k, this is an 18+ series - mdni

divider credit: @/toastray ୨୧ art credit: @/juziluohai

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"Hey," he said, his voice a touch smoother than usual, though it still held that casual tone that was oh so familiar. 

For a moment, all you could do was stare. 

The on-edge atmosphere of the station pressed in around you—hushed conversations, hurried footsteps, the distant rumble of another approaching train underneath you—but none of it reached you fully. 

Your mind felt like it was catching up, trying to bridge the space between expectation and reality, between picturing him at the bar and seeing him here instead.

He was waiting. Not impatiently, not expectantly, just... there.

His hand dropped back to his side, fingers grazing the seam of his pants. 

The ghost of a smirk played at the corner of his mouth as he tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving yours.

“Hey,” you breathed out at last, sounding a little more unsteady than you had expected.

Geto’s warm smile deepened at your response—like he could hear everything unsaid in that single word.

You swallowed, willing yourself to move. 

The space between you closed with slow, measured steps, work computer bag still slung over your shoulder, the city air clinging cool against your skin as it blew in through the glass doors. 

“What are you doing here?” Your voice was quieter than you intended. The question felt unnecessary somehow, obvious even, but it still tumbled out.

Geto huffed a slight chuckle, glancing down briefly before looking back at you.

“Well, I know the streets in this city aren’t always safe, so I figured I’d meet you here and walk with you.” His tone was light, teasing, but there was something underneath it. Something careful. Considered.

You exhaled, a short, breathy laugh leaving your lips. “I mean, yeah…but Geto, you really didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.”

The words hung in the space between you, simple and easy, yet carrying something heavier beneath them.

A beat passed, and then another.

You should have said something—something lighthearted, maybe a quick retort about him being overprotective, about how you weren’t exactly helpless. 

But the words didn’t come like they usually did.

Why weren’t you responding?

You weren’t sure, to be honest.

Maybe it was the way he was looking at you, the familiar weight of his gaze steady and unhurried, waiting for you to catch up to the moment so patiently. 

Maybe it was the way his presence here, unexpected yet not unwanted, unsettled something in your chest—just enough to make you pause, just enough to make you notice.

Or maybe it was nothing at all. Just a lapse. Just you being slow at the end of a workday—A small, silent moment stretched far too long by your drained brain. 

Geto didn’t rush to fill the silence. He never did. 

He was comfortable in it.

Instead, he tipped his head slightly, the ghost of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth, like he was waiting for you to steady yourself.

And then he saved you from your spiralling thoughts with a breathy laugh so small you almost missed it—

“Come on,” he said, turning just enough to gesture toward the exit. “Let’s get out of here.”

You nodded, shifting the strap of your laptop bag on your shoulder before following him through the glass doors ahead. 

The faint hum of the subway station faded behind you as you left the subway station, the air changing as you stepped onto the street—cooler, fresher, tinged with the familiar scent of city pavement and distant car exhaust. 

As the two of you stepped into the night, the tension that had been coiling in your chest all week began to slip away—slowly, steadily—unwinding in the quiet comfort of his presence, in the easy way he moved beside you, like nothing in the world needed rushing.

The movement of the city folded around you both as you stepped onto the sidewalk.

The weeknight life carried on as if nothing had shifted—as if you hadn’t just spent an extra few seconds too long staring at him, as if you hadn’t just caught yourself hesitating for reasons you didn’t entirely understand.

But Geto didn’t call any attention to it. He was kind like that.

He simply fell into step beside you, adjusting his pace to match yours without even thinking about it.

“How was work?” He asked, voice low but unhurried.

You sighed, rolling one shoulder as if that might shake the weight of the day off. 

“The usual. Meetings that could’ve been emails, and emails that could’ve been nothing at all.”

He huffed a small laugh, his hands slipping easily into the pockets of his baggy dress pants. “Sounds about right.”

You both kept walking, and somewhere between the exchange of words, your attention began catching on details that had nothing to do with the conversation.

The way Geto positioned himself slightly ahead, his body angled just enough that he was closest to the road. 

The way his shoulder barely brushed yours when the crowd thickened, how he shifted so easily, subtly, making sure there was just enough space for you to walk and not get pushed by others.

Had he always done that? 

Probably. 

But maybe you’d never noticed it quite like this.

“You know,” he mused, his calm voice cutting through your thoughts, “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you—not that I really had the chance—but how’d you even end up in your job?”

You blinked up at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I get how Gojo ended up where he is—they probably gave him the job just to get him to shut up and leave,” Geto said dryly, “but you? I don’t remember you ever talking about wanting the corporate life back in university.”

You let out a breath of laughter. “That’s because I had no idea what I was doing after graduation. I kind of just… fell into it.”

He hummed in understanding, and as you spoke, your eyes drifted over him again.

His hair was longer than the last time you’d seen him. 

You hadn’t noticed it at first, not really, but seeing it tied back in that loose half-bun, with stray strands slipping free to frame his face—it was different. 

Still him, still familiar, but different, softer somehow.

“Do you like it?” He asked, pulling you back to the conversation.

You hesitated, tilting your head slightly before clicking back into reality and responding. 

“Not really. I mean, it’s not what I pictured, but I don’t hate it. I just… don’t think too hard about whether I love it, either.”

Geto glanced at you then, something knowing in his expression. “That’s an interesting way of saying ‘I don’t know.’”

You scoffed, laughing a bit as you looked over at him. “You always do that!”

“Do what?” He looked at you, brows drawing together just slightly, the barest hint of confusion crossing his face.

“Summarize everything I say in, like, three words when I take five sentences to say it.”

He smirked, but didn’t deny it.

Another few steps, another moment of quiet stretching between you. 

It wasn’t awkward—it never was with him—but something about the silence tonight felt fuller than usual, charged with something unspoken.

You glanced up at him again, watching the way the low glow of passing streetlights softened his profile. 

His expression was as still as always, but his eyes hadn’t lost their softness—Neither had his voice.

And for some reason, your brain felt like that was something worth noticing, too.

You walked in comfortable silence for a few moments, the rhythm of your steps becoming almost synchronized with the hum of the city. 

Geto’s presence next to you was like a quiet anchor, grounding the entire evening.

As you reached the bar, its neon sign glowing faintly in the distance, Geto took the lead, stepping ahead of you without hesitation. 

He reached for the door first, a smooth movement, his hand easily grasping the handle. 

But instead of just opening it, he held the door back, the solid wood creaking slightly as he pulled it toward him. 

He stood a little taller for the gesture, holding the door open with an effortless grace, the kind of politeness that felt both instinctive and genuine.

You glanced up at him as you passed, giving him a polite smile, his stature making the action look all the more effortless. 

The way he did everything—slightly above and beyond—seemed almost natural for him.

You stepped inside, the warmth of the bar enveloping you, replacing the cool air of the street. 

Geto stepped in behind you, the door falling gently shut with a soft click, and he gave a quick glance around, before his gaze landed on you, a quiet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

The space was dimly lit, the kind of ambient lighting that pulled shadows in all the right places, giving everything a sense of intimate mystery. 

The atmosphere was alive but muted, like the soft pulse of a secret kept between strangers who’d all found refuge here.

The walls were a dark, moody shade of navy blue, interrupted only by sleek, matte black frames holding abstract art pieces—art that made you pause to interpret it, even if you weren’t quite sure how. The floor beneath your feet was smooth, polished concrete, worn in spots from years of footsteps, giving the place a lived-in yet carefully curated feel. 

Above, industrial light fixtures hung low, casting pools of soft light, the shadows playing across the faces of patrons hunched over their drinks, their conversations murmured low.

A blend of smooth jazz with a touch of modern beats floated in the background, just enough to set the tone without intruding. 

The whole place felt alive, but in a way that encouraged quiet conversation, the kind of vibe that made everything feel a little more personal, a little more connected.

The actual bar itself was an island in the middle of the room, a massive slab of dark wood worn smooth from years of use, lined with high stools that had low backs. 

Behind it, bottles glimmered like treasures in the dim light, arranged with a precision that made you think the bartender must be a perfectionist. 

“Not bad, huh?” He murmured, watching your reaction with that subtle attentiveness he always carried.

You nodded, already feeling at ease in the space. “Definitely has a vibe.”

He chuckled softly, then stepped just ahead of you, leading the way to a small, tucked-away booth near the back. 

The plush, velvet-covered seats wrapped around a low table, inviting and private without trying too hard. 

As he slid into his side, the soft flicker of candlelight danced across his face, highlighting the quiet ease in his expression—the kind of unhurried patience that made it feel like the night had nowhere else to be but here, with you.

You followed, settling into the opposite side of the booth. 

The seat gave a little beneath you, plush and warm, and for a moment, you just sat there—feeling the quiet hum of the bar seep into your bones, the flicker of the candle between you catching the amber in your water glass that was already set on the table.

“You look great, by the way.”

Your hand paused mid-reach.

His voice came just as you were reaching for the water, quiet but certain—like he wasn’t just saying it to be polite, but because he meant it. 

Like it was simply a fact, not a compliment.

You looked up at him, your fingers still grazing the glass, and caught the way his eyes were already on you—god he was always watching…his gaze was warm, steady, with just a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he’d noticed your pause and was already filing it away for later teasing.

The candlelight didn’t help—or maybe it helped too much. You weren’t sure.

You blinked once—twice—then dropped your gaze with a half-laugh, half-exhale, as the warmth started to crawl up your neck.

“Thanks,” you murmured, trying not to sound as breathless as you felt. “You look even bette—uh—I mean you look good too.” The words tumbled out in a blur, and you immediately winced, mentally tripping over the way your mouth had gotten ahead of your brain.

His smile tugged a little deeper, but he didn’t laugh. Didn’t tease. Just looked at you for a moment, like he was letting the words settle before quietly accepting them.

“Even better? Well… I’m not sure about that, but thank you,” he said, simply.

And just like that, the air shifted again—barely—but enough that you felt it, in the quiet space between his voice and the candlelight flickering between you.

Then, mercifully, the waiter appeared—tall, relaxed, with sleeves rolled to the elbows and a familiarity in his walk that said he belonged here.

“Hey,” Geto said, smiling easily. “Didn’t know you were working tonight.”

“Every Thursday,” the guy replied smoothly, pulling a little notepad from his apron but not bothering to look at it. “What can I get you guys?”

Geto glanced at you, one eyebrow lifting slightly. “You still like espresso martinis?”

Your face lit up before you could help it—like a reflex, like he’d just pulled a small memory from the back of your mind and handed it to you wrapped in velvet.

You hadn’t seen him in at least a year—and yet he’d remembered what you liked, knew you well enough to know you’d still like it, and added just enough of a twist to make it feel personal.

It was almost unfair.

“Oh my god, yes,” you said, a little too enthusiastically, then laughed. “It’s been forever.”

Geto grinned, then turned back to the waiter with a decisive nod. “Two espresso martinis.”

Then, after a beat, he added, “Hers shaken with Baileys.”

The waiter gave a short, amused laugh, scribbled it down, and disappeared as smoothly as he’d arrived.

You raised an eyebrow at Geto. “Since when do you know my espresso martini order better than I do?”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, the candlelight catching in his eyes like slow-burning embers. 

“Since the end of second year. That one time at that business formal when Gojo bailed halfway through to go see that one girl, and we stayed behind.”

You blinked, the memory flashing into place like a forgotten film reel clicking on in the back of your mind.

“Right,” you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips. “I forgot about that.”

“I didn’t,” he said, simply.

And something about the way he said it made you forget—again—how to breathe quite normally. 

For a brief moment, it felt like the whole bar—the city, even—had narrowed down to just the two of you, sitting across from each other, with nothing loud or flashy to distract you from how easy it felt. How surprising it was. And how much more of the night is left….

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[neeeooon]

ohh when they find out they have a child, could you mayhaps do an alternate ending where things work out (sae, rin and shidou preferably) its ok if you dont as well ^^ have a good day/night

all three have continuations here, but i’m interested to see so YEAH (this takes place after the continuation pt)

when you end up together (when they find out they have a kid pt 3.5)

ex-husband!bllk x fem!reader. fluff (finally), cursing, all three kids have names. probably the last part in this series(?) ik u guys are sick of me 😭🙏

itoshi sae

-> as promised, sae returned when he was next available and kept coming back after that. your son, taro, would stand by the door with his face and hands pressed against the window whenever you got the “omw” text from sae

-> it took you and sae a long time to get the process down. at first, you’d even discussed going to court to get a custody agreement legally written to make it easier to handle, but your friends and family convinced you that that would only harm your son

-> eventually, sae made your house his permanent home for whenever he wasn’t traveling for work. it wasn’t often that he was there, but the more he returned, the brighter his expression became, especially when your son would beg to be held and play with monster trucks

-> after four years, you finally confessed to sae that you wanted to be a family again. “i know i’m asking a lot, and i don’t want this to overwhelm you. you don’t have to say yes, but if you do, i need you to understand that this isn’t something you can change your mind on. taro calls you dad, he brags to his classmates about you all the time, and i want this situation to be as stable for him as possible.” “what are you asking?” “i want us to try again. i want you to stop walking on eggshells and consider that maybe i want you here, too.”

-> sae was quiet for a long time. “anything else?” “.. i want you to take taro to soccer practice, if you don’t mind.” you moved to stand, rejection weighing heavy in your stomach, when you felt sae’s hand wrap around your wrist. “i thought you wanted me to stay away.” “that was before. you’re different now.” “i am.”

-> on taro’s tenth birthday, after he runs off to play with the soccer ball signed by germany’s isagi yoichi, you pop a thinly wrapped box in your husband’s hands. “what’s this?” sae asked, brows creased gently in his confusion. you nudged his shoulder. “open it and see.”

-> his expression didn’t change, but you watched as his eyes began to shimmer. “y’know, taro’s been begging me for a brother or sister since i met him,” sae said with a small chuckle, and you threw your arms around him. “are you happy? this will be your first time…” “i’m happy. we don’t have to talk about the past anymore. does taro know yet?”

-> “does taro know what?” your son asked, and you and sae jumped apart. the space revealed the sonogram in your husband’s hand, and when taro saw it, his face lit up. “no freaking way! i’m gonna be a brother?!”

-> you laughed and sae ruffled his hair. “excited?” “this is the best birthday present ever!”

itoshi rin

-> you kicked off your heels, ankles swollen from walking around the office all day. “i’m home!”

-> immediately, two high-pitched voices barreled toward you, and you let out a laugh when your two daughters rounded the corner. “my girls!” you cried dramatically, matching their over-the-top greeting, and knelt down just in time to catch them before they could knock you over. “where’s your dad?”

-> “he’s making dinner!” your youngest, haruka, shouted into your ear before raising her hands over her head and jumping at you. “uppie! up, up!”

-> emiko shot her a look so scandalized that you laughed when it reminded you exactly of her father. “no, i want uppie! it’s my turn!” “you’re almost eleven, you don’t need uppie!” “mama!”

-> thankfully, your husband decided it was time to intervene and stepped into the doorway, where you were about to be pulled apart by your girls. rin grinned down at you warmly, and you felt the comforting heat of his smile everywhere. “welcome home, love,” he greeted as he swooped emi off her feet

-> now partially free, you were able to stand enough to grab haru and tuck her into your side. “how was today?” you asked back after giving rin a quick kiss, rolling your eyes when your daughters gagged. “decent. dinner is ready.”

-> the word “dinner” sent the girls into a frenzy, and they wiggled out of your grips before sprinting into the kitchen. “set the table, please!” you called after them, rolling your eyes a second time when you heard emi telling haru to set it on her own since emi helped rin bring groceries in

-> suddenly more exhausted then you’d been all day, you step forward and lean against your husband, who dutifully wraps his arms around your waist to steady you. “long day?” he asks with a small chuckle before rubbing comforting circles into your hip. you hum, “i’m ready to retire.”

-> “mama! daddy! stop kissing and come eat!” “yeah, stop kissing!” emi and haru giggle from the kitchen. rin gives you one last squeeze before helping you straighten and tugging you toward the kitchen. “i made your favorite.” “you must love me a lot,” you giggle, and he takes your hand to kiss the back of it. “i do.”

shidou ryusei

-> “sachi!” shidou cheered once your daughter’s ballet recital ended. she beamed at him from the stage, jumping and waving as her pink tutu bounced around her. “hi, daddy! did you see me?!” “you were great, sweetheart!”

-> you laughed and covered your face with your hand as people side-eyed your husband, who was blocking all the rows behind him by standing. “mommy? what’s daddy doing?” your two-year-old son, riichi, said with much more attitude than a two-year-old should have

-> “he’s supporting your sister!” you replied. since you knew there was no use in trying to stop him, you carefully pushed yourself to your feet, very aware of how pregnant you were. “yay, sachi!” you cheered before encouraging riichi to do the same

-> shidou wrapped a steady arm around the back of your waist to help relieve some of the pressure, and you flashed a silent smile of thanks before going back to cheering for your daughter

-> “and then, and then i flew!” sachi was retelling the story of how she jumped higher than she meant to in the play, but she didn’t seem worried for standing out in the slightest. “my teacher said ‘good job, sachi!’ and gave me this cat cake pop!” when riichi grumbled something about cats being his favorite, his sister didn’t hesitate to hand it over to him. “everyone else ate theirs, but i saved mine for you, riirii!”

-> and then riichi cried, which made sachi cry, which meant shidou had to carry them both home as you patted their hair and tried to comfort them while also praising them for being such thoughtful kids

-> it didn’t take long after tucking the tired kidos into bed for them to sleep, but shidou still read them a story anyway. he liked to improvise and add silly voices that made your kids crack up, but tonight he kept it simple and quietly kissed them both when he was sure they were out

-> shidou placed a hand on your swollen stomach when he finally washed up and joined you in bed. “how’s little tsuki?” he asked, and you immediately felt the baby kick against his hand. both your eyes widened, and you laughed when shidou covered your stomach with kisses. “sorry, y/n love. i’m gonna be the favorite.” “no fair. i need at least one shidou to like me best.”

-> your breath hitched when he looked up at you. “we could always try for more~” to which you quietly slapped his arm. “don’t worry. riichi said if i give him an extra candy in his bento tomorrow, i’ll be his favorite.” “that traitor!”

[manicmanuscription]

P.3. Hopefully Charming?

Part Three

Pairings: Mafia!Bat Boys / Clueless!Reader

Summary: Reader finally goes on her first date with the batboys!

Word Count: 1.7K+

Tags: first dates, flirting, skirting around heavy topics of convo, author lowkey hates this chapter and might rewrite it.

Acotar Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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── °ꨄ︎｡ /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ｡ꨄ︎° ──

I looked at myself in the mirror with a small smile. I had the dress stuffed in the back of my closet for a while, it had been a good night for tips when I bought it and I'd had my eye on the gorgeous black piece in the window for awhile. I justified it pretty well but truth be told this was the first time I'd worn it since that night a few months ago. 

The sparkly black fabric hugged all my curves in all the perfect places, accentating just right in the areas of my body I sometimes felt insecure in. I had my hair curled and in a bun framing my face and I felt beautiful. I had kept the jewelry light but worn some of my favorites.

They hadn't told me where we would be going just yet, only to be ready by 7 and to look nice. My stomach flipped at the memory of who I was going out with- my bosses. plural. 

I shuddered in excitment, leaving my bedroom with my matching black heels in hand. A quick glance at my phone told me it was 6:54 and after slipping my shoes on and grabbing my purse I headed to lobby. 

My mind whirled the whole elevator ride down. I'd been working there for a almost a year and hadn't noticed any signs they found me interesting. I shouldn't be going out with my bosses, what would my coworkers say? what if this went horrible wrong and I was out of a job?

The elevator doors dinged open and there I saw Rhysand entering the lobby all my worries draining as my heart fluttered at the smile he gave me. Even though it was stupid as all hell. I couldn't help the shiver that ran down my spine whenever any three of them looked at me like that. 

I started walking towards him and once he was in earshot he spoke first. "I would've come up and retrieved you." 

"Well what kinda girl would I be to let you see my place before the first date even started?" 

"I don't think it says anything about you, but certainly about what kind of man I am for not even walking all the way to your front door." I just rolled my eyes and as soon as I reached him he pressed a kiss to my hand, those almost violet eyes roving over me appreciatively. "You look absolutely stunning darling." 

"You clean up pretty well yourself." 

He smiled, offering me his arm and I took it. "Thank you, I don't have to try all that hard."

I couldn't help but chuckle, the cool wind brushing against my neck as we stepped outside and making goosebumps run up my arm, certainly not because of his close proximity. "I revoke my earlier compliment then, seeing as your ego is certainly big enough without my help." 

He placed his free hand where his heart was, feigning hurt. "Ouch. And here I thought I was making progress." 

I didn't get a chance to respond as he opened the car door for me, making sure I was seated before closing it and heading to the driver's side. I couldn't appreciate the leather seats and nice interior when I noticed Cassian and Azriel weren't in the car. 

"Don't worry darling they were elected to set up the resturant while I get to be your personal chauffeur." 

I blushed slightly, embarassed he could read my disappointment so easily but quickly changed the topic. "So it's a resturant then?"

He didn't say anything just as I exepected, they'd been infuriating quiet the entire week. He just roared the engine to life and headed down the streets of Velaris. "I hope it's not Sevanda's I've heard that place sucks." 

Even though I was slightly joking I truly hoped he didn't take me to his own resturant I'd already spent enough time there as is, taking me on a date there seemed a bit egotistical.

He chuckled and I couldn't help but notice how good he looks behind the wheel of a fast car, his strong hands gripping the leather confidently as if he'd done this a thousand times or more. Leaning back in the seat to get comfortable. "I've heard the owner's are especially wicked."

"I've met them, they're not that bad."

"No?"

"Nah, except they totally hijacked my date, very rude to be butting in their employees personal lives." 

"You should go to the National Resturant Association. That's very unprofessional." 

I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of me. "Well it's a good thing I think they're cute."

"Don't let Cassian hear you say that. I don't think any of us will ever live it down." 

I turned to smile at him, only to realize his eyes were on mine before returning to the road. His hand quietly fell off the steering wheel and settled on my thigh just slightly above my thigh, his body tensed as if waiting for a rejection.

The touch sent electricty through my skin and I my heart started beating faster. In reality we didn't know each other all that well even if there had been..moments. 

I however didn't make a move to remove it, content to let this feeling last however long it would. Wishing he would move those hands further up.

── °ꨄ︎｡ /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ｡ꨄ︎° ──

I couldn't help but gasp in awe when we arrived, Rhysand had his eyes covering mine during the elevator ride and after a few steps he finally removed them. It was a rooftop resturant, with dim lights and expensive seating. I could see the whole city for miles. "Where are we?" 

"Le cœur"

I whirled around to face him. "You're joking."

He cocked his head to the side. "No."

"It's friday night and this place is completely empty. Le cœur is always busy, my friend works here."

He just shrugged his shoulders. "I have friends here too."

"Are you trying to intimidate me with your money?" I joked. 

"We were trying to show off." A familiar voice said from behind me and I turned to face Cassian and Azriel. Grateful to see them. "Is it working?" Rhys asked, leading me to a the closest table with the best view. Velaris spread out below us the Sidra glinting in the setting sun.

"Write me a check then we'll see." 

Cassian laughed, claiming the spot right next to me while Azriel and Rhysand took the seats across. "I'm kidding obviously, this is so beautiful thank you so much." I added sincerely. Hoping they werent thinking I was trying to take advantage of them. 

Azriel brushed it off but Rhysand locked eyes with me for a few moments "You're welcome." A waiter appeared with a bottle of wine and a few glasses keeping his eyes glued to the floor. He silently slipped away after that and I didn't even get a chance to thank him. 

"Did you already order?" I asked when I realized there was no menus. "Trust me, Alice cooks what you will enjoy." Cassian said appreciatively patting his stomach. 

I laughed and Azriel silently poured me a glass of wine. "Do you usually go all out with the women you date?"

"Only the extremely beauitful ones." Cassian spoke, his eyes on me and I flushed under his attention.

"We also don't date together…wanted to make it special."

"Wait what?" I turned to face Azriel, Rhys leaned back in his seat his fingers drumming against his wine glass. "Your a unique case." 

"I…don't know what to say to that." I admitted, of course I preened under their attention, who wouldn't? and the fact that they all wanted me enough to share me was a sobering reality, even if it had my heart flipping inside out. 

"You don't have to say anything. It's just important that you know it." Rhys was obviously the smooth talker of the three and I was grateful for his charm easing the tension. I didn't realize how they felt and it made me.…giddy. 

"I don't know how to be on a date with three people." It's my first time being shared too. I silently said and Azriel nodded in quiet understanding yet the man to my side spoke first. "That's alright princess just let us take the lead."

Cassian's smile was infectious and I found myself relaxing with his light charm. "Well what do you like to do for fun?"

"Oh none of those icebreaker questions that's so awkward." I hid a mishevious smile behind my glass. "What do you suggest we talk about then love?" Azriel murmured, leaning forward in his chair to further capture my attention. 

"What's the dumbest thing you've all ever done?"

"Oof went straight for it huh?” Cassian chuckled.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"Alright alright. The dumbest thing I've ever done was sneak into Rhys's dad's whiskey cabinent. I was 16 and when he found out about it he was not happy. I ran laps at five am for a whole year rain or shine."

"Wait wait, I thought you were all brothers?" I asked, Cassian had said rhys dad, not ours. 

"Not biologically but we grew up just as close." Rhys said sharing a heavy look with the two other males, spinning a ring on his finger as if in thought. I decided not to push it ay further as it seemed there was a big story there for another time. "And you Azriel, what's the dumbest thing you've ever done?"

"Drive without a sealtbelt." He shrugged and I raised my eyebrows at him. "Driving without a seatbealt? Come on, that's such a lie."

The edges of his lips barely lifted but I noticed and it felt like a small victory from the stoic male. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." He repeated my words from earlier and I crossed my arms over my chest. "That's how it's going to be?" 

He didn't say anything just waited for me to contiune and I huffed, taking a pause to think. "The dumbest thing I've ever done was…take seven shots of tequila the night before a big test at med school. They kinda kicked me out.”

"I didn't know you were in school." "Yep." I popped the p before taking a sip of my wine. "I was going to drop out sooner or later so it doesn't matter." I waved the conversation off, hoping to avoid talking about it further. 

Azriel nodded again. "The dumbest thing I've ever done is steal a car."

"You did what?!" I asked and just like that the night kicked off. 

── °ꨄ︎｡ /̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ｡ꨄ︎° ──

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