#but then there’s the times where it stays or it’s there when i first open my eyes for the day

[kirammanswifey]

arcane characters when they're jealous x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i really loveddd writing this, just imaginating each scenario was so satisfying, silco's and viktor's were my favorites. i loooove viktor so much i could write about thar man each day of my life and never be get tired of it. btw request are open! ;)

Viktor

The lab was especially lively that afternoon, with new ideas flowing among the team. You were conversing with a new colleague, a young enthusiast who seemed to have a knack for understanding complex concepts. His questions and comments kept you engaged, and you couldn't help but smile at his contagious energy.

From his desk, Viktor occasionally glanced up, observing the interaction. At first, he seemed focused on his own calculations, but every time your laughter echoed through the space, his hands paused over the paper, and his gaze slightly hardened.

After a while, he stood up with his careful stride and approached you and your colleague, placing a hand on the edge of the table where you were working.

"Excuse me, could you come with me for a moment? There's something we need to review together," Viktor said, his tone polite but with a firmness that didn't go unnoticed.

"Of course, Viktor, give me a second," you replied, finishing explaining one last detail before turning to him.

Viktor waited for you to stand up and guided you back to his desk. When you both were seated, he leaned slightly toward you, his eyes searching yours.

"It seemed like you were quite involved in your conversation," he commented, trying to maintain a casual tone but failing to hide the hint of jealousy in his gaze.

"I was just explaining some of the previous projects," you said, gently touching his hand to calm him. "Nothing I can't share with you."

Viktor nodded, relaxing slightly at your touch, but he didn't let the subject drop so easily.

"I'm glad to hear that. Sometimes, it's easy to forget that there are things only we share, isn't it?"

His voice was soft, but the intensity of his words made your heart beat a little faster. You knew Viktor rarely showed his emotions so openly, and seeing that protective side of him was something you couldn't ignore.

"Viktor," you said, smiling and intertwining your fingers with his. "You know you're always the first person I think of when something excites me. No one can replace you."

The shadow of jealousy that had been haunting him slowly faded, replaced by a slight smile that barely curved his lips. Viktor leaned in a bit more, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek, a caress that spoke of the trust he had in you.

"I know," he whispered. "I just needed to remind myself."

Jinx

The air in the Undercity was thick with smoke and raucous laughter as you made your way into an underground club with Jinx. The vibrant music filled the space, and the crowd moved like a wild tide. You had come with Jinx to get distracted, but soon found yourself caught up in a conversation with an old acquaintance. His words were lively, but your attention was divided between him and the flashes of blue in the background, where Jinx was watching.

Jinx stayed in the shadows, her bright blue eyes shining intensely as she watched you laugh and chat with someone else. Her jaw was tense, and her fingers nervously played with a grenade she had pulled from her belt. Jealousy boiled inside her, mixed with a latent fear that she might lose you.

When the man placed a hand on your arm to emphasize his point, Jinx could no longer hold herself back. She cut through the crowd with the agility of a predator, her presence drawing attention as she advanced toward you.

"Hey! How about you get lost before things get ugly?" Jinx interrupted the conversation with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her voice laden with a barely concealed threat.

The man quickly stepped away, recognizing the danger in Jinx's tone. He had barely disappeared into the crowd when Jinx grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward a less crowded corner of the club.

"What the hell was that?" you asked, surprised by her abruptness.

Jinx stared at you, her eyes reflecting a storm of emotions. "I didn’t like how he looked at you. I didn’t like how he touched you. You’re mine, understand? Only mine."

The intensity in her voice took your breath away. It was as if her whole world revolved around you, and the idea of sharing you with someone else drove her mad.

"Jinx..." you began, trying to calm her, but she was already moving closer, her hands on your hips, pressing you against the wall.

"I don’t care if I’m too much. I don’t care if you think I’m crazy. I can’t stand the idea of someone else trying to have what’s mine," she whispered, her lips inches from yours.

"Jinx," you said softly, cupping her face in your hands. "I understand how you feel, but you can't act like this or treat people that way. You have to trust me. I’ll never leave you, but you have to believe in us. You have to believe in me."

Her eyes softened for a moment, and she nodded slightly, her breathing still heavy but beginning to calm.

Her words were a whirlwind of passion and possessiveness, and before you could respond, her lips found yours in a fierce kiss, filled with need and latent desperation. Her body trembled against yours, and you felt the chaos of her emotions spilling into every movement.

When she finally pulled away, her eyes searched yours, pleading and vulnerable. "Promise me you'll always stay with me. That you’ll never let anyone come between us."

"Jinx, I could never want anyone else," you said, stroking her cheek gently. "I’m here, and I always will be."

Jinx closed her eyes, resting her forehead against yours as her breathing steadied. "I love you... too much."

Vi

The atmosphere in the alley was charged with electricity. The crowd gathered around the makeshift fight ring, silently placing bets as they watched the imminent confrontation. You knew what Vi did, what she had done her entire life. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, and anticipation wrapped around her like a shadow. But this time, something was different.

Beside you, Vi was ready, her gloves tightened, muscles tense beneath her shirt. The fierce look she shot at the man in front of her was nothing new; they had seen it dozens of times. But this time, something shifted in the air. Maybe it was the way she glanced at you, as if trying to make sure you were okay before the fight began. But you knew the man facing her wasn’t just another opponent. He was a guy with bad intentions and an overly confident smirk.

"Hey there, pretty," the man approached you with a smooth tone, his gaze far too bold as he caught you off guard. "Surely, you’ve got more to offer than just standing here watching your girl fight, right? Why don’t you come with me after this? I can make you forget all this chaos."

You didn’t expect that attitude, and your discomfort was evident, though you didn’t want to make a scene. You tried to keep calm, but the weight of the situation crept over you. However, before you could respond, the man gave your arm a touch, seeking your attention, breaking your personal space.

Vi didn’t think for another second.

With a low growl, like a caged beast, she approached him. Her eyes gleamed with fury, her body tense, ready to strike, but before she could, the man sneered.

"What’s the matter, sweetheart? Bothered by a little distraction?" the man taunted, his tone more provoking than sympathetic, as if testing how far Vi’s patience could stretch.

"I suggest you walk away," Vi snarled, the rage bubbling in her voice, as she stepped closer, her muscles marking a clear threat that she wouldn’t let anyone touch what was hers. But the man didn’t give her the chance to do anything. With a provoking smile, he tried to step closer to you, completely ignoring Vi.

Before he could get any nearer, Vi shoved him back with a sharp punch that echoed through the place. "I’m the only one who touches her!" Vi’s voice boomed with such intensity that the air seemed to freeze.

The crowd shuddered, expectant. The guy, who thought his attitude could intimidate, now found himself cornered by Vi’s fierce rivalry, his previously confident eyes now filled with a mix of surprise and fear.

"I told you to walk away," Vi repeated, her tone so grave that the man had no choice but to retreat.

The fight began.

The crowd dispersed as the bets continued, but Vi saw nothing beyond her target. Every punch she threw at her opponent was filled with fury. She wasn’t just fighting for money or respect; she was fighting for you. The idea of someone daring to look at you, touch you, think they could make you theirs, drove her to lose control in a dangerous way.

The man tried to fight back, but Vi, with her agility and strength, knocked him down once again, this time with a punch so powerful that the sound of the impact echoed in everyone’s ears. In seconds, he was already on the ground, defeated, and Vi stared down at him before turning toward you.

Your heart pounded as you watched the scene. Vi was drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, but her gaze was solely on you.

Vi walked toward you with the swagger of someone who had just won, her smile full of pride.

"Did you enjoy the show?" she asked, her tone softer but still carrying a hint of challenge.

"You really love putting on a show, don’t you?" you responded sarcastically, a playful smirk forming as you wrapped your arms around her.

Vi leaned in, her eyes darkening with intensity. "It’s not about the show," she murmured, her voice low and fierce. "I can’t stand anyone touching you or even thinking they can get close to you."

A grin tugged at your lips. "I love it when you get possessive," you whispered, your gaze locked with hers.

Vi’s expression shifted to one of amused delight before she pulled you into a wild, passionate kiss. "You’re mine," she growled against your lips, the ferocity of her claim sending a shiver down your spine.

You kissed her back just as fiercely, your hands tangling in her hair. "And you’re mine," you declared, your voice firm with equal possessiveness. The world around you faded into irrelevance, leaving only the two of you, caught in a storm of desire and fierce loyalty.

Caitlyn

The elegant gala in Piltover had unfolded without incident, as expected from an event of such magnitude. The city's high society was enjoying the evening, and you, as a special guest, were no exception. Caitlyn, always poised and reserved, had invited you to accompany her, and in her role as hostess, she was the center of many conversations. However, your presence hadn’t gone unnoticed by a few.

The soft murmur of conversation turned into something more charged when a man you hadn’t seen before approached with a calculated smile. Clearly part of the elite, he had an impeccable demeanor and the gaze of someone who knew how to get what he wanted.

"Excuse me, I couldn’t help but notice how stunning you look tonight," the man said, smiling with a tone as smooth as it was dangerous. "I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, but I believe I’d like to. Would you care to join me for a quieter drink? Perhaps we could find a more secluded spot to chat."

You quickly noticed his tone was more than a simple invitation, bordering on an insinuation that made you uncomfortable. You tried to smile politely, but before you could respond, you felt Caitlyn’s presence next to you.

Caitlyn’s response was cold as ice, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you and her with a grace that turned every head in the room. She placed a gentle yet firm hand on your waist, pulling you close, and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. The simple act silenced the murmurs around you, establishing her claim without a single word.

Turning to the man, Caitlyn’s voice was soft but carried a steely edge. "My partner isn’t interested in your offer," she said with a calm, unwavering gaze that could cut glass.

The man’s smile faltered but quickly returned, broader and more calculated. "Surely, she can speak for herself. Maybe she’s just being polite."

Caitlyn’s expression didn’t waver, but there was a glint of sharp amusement in her eyes. "I won’t repeat myself. The invitation is declined," she said, her voice like silk wrapped around steel. She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she continued, "And I’ve heard whispers about certain irregularities in your financial dealings. I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to take a closer look, would you?"

The man's face paled as the words settled in, his bravado crumbling under the weight of Caitlyn’s veiled threat. Without another word, he mumbled an apology and quickly melted back into the crowd.

Once he was out of sight, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly. "You can be a bit extreme sometimes, you know that?"

Caitlyn turned to you, her eyes softening as a small smile curved her lips. "When it comes to you, I’ll do anything. I would go to any lengths for you."

Caitlyn’s words hung in the air, and without another thought, she gently pressed her forehead against yours, closing her eyes in a quiet, tender moment. The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you in the stillness. It was a gesture of love, of connection, so intimate that nothing else mattered. Slowly, she whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you held her close, both of you savoring the shared warmth and affection.

After a beat, you pulled back slightly, your eyes glinting with mischief. "But the event must go on, right? You can’t let one old, pretentious, corrupt man ruin your mood."

Caitlyn chuckled softly, the faintest blush rising on her cheeks as she glanced away, clearly embarrassed by the playful suggestion. "You really know how to make me laugh," she said, a genuine smile pulling at her lips as her usual composure returned.

"You have to show them how well Caitlyn Kiramman performs as a host," you teased, your voice playful. "A night like this is your stage, and that man doesn’t deserve to ruin the performance. Besides, you can’t let anyone think they can just mess with you."

Her laughter filled the air, and Caitlyn couldn’t help but shake her head at your teasing, the blush still present on her cheeks. Taking your arm with an elegant, almost theatrical gesture, she smiled at you. "Alright, let’s show them how it’s done," she said, the regal composure she always exuded returning in full force.

As you both walked away, side by side, the night unfolded once more, but it was clear—nothing, not even the interruption of a rude guest, could take away from the quiet, unspoken bond between the two of you.

Jayce

The night stretched on, filled with bright lights, laughter, and glasses of wine being raised in what seemed to be an exclusive gala of Piltover's high society. The crowd, elegant and wealthy, flowed through the hallways, engaging in lively conversations about scientific and political advancements, but you couldn’t help feeling out of place amidst so much luxury.

Jayce, always by your side, looked every bit the perfect gentleman in his perfectly tailored suit, smiling, but with a slight shadow of concentration that betrayed the way he observed the surroundings. As if he were seeing beyond the faces, detecting every detail. His fingers rested gently on your lower back as he guided you through the crowd, protecting you from any uncomfortable glance or word.

“Come on, it’s fine,” he said, smiling at you tenderly. “Just a little more patience, then we’ll leave.”

Before you could respond, a man, someone who clearly wasn’t unfamiliar to you due to his overly flashy style and even more obvious intentions, arrogantly approached, interrupting your conversation with Jayce.

“What a pleasure to see you here. The beauty of Piltover doesn’t stop at inventions, does it?” the man said in an excessively flattering tone, his eyes clearly evaluating you in an uncomfortable way. The way he approached wasn’t that of a friend or acquaintance, but rather of someone who was clearly interested in something more. He came too close, not to greet you in a friendly manner, but as if he were recruiting you for something you didn’t want.

You felt the growing discomfort in your chest. But before you could say anything, you felt Jayce’s presence beside you. Somehow, without the man saying another word, the space between him and you seemed to shrink. Jayce didn’t show aggression, but the aura of power that emanated from him was enough to make anyone think twice before continuing.

“Well, who would have thought tonight’s gala would be so… interesting?” Jayce said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, observing the man as if evaluating him from head to toe. “I wonder if your compliments are as easy to come by as they seem, or if it’s simply an innate talent of yours.”

The man stood silent for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Jayce wasn’t looking at him with disdain, but with a smile that was almost kind, though it left no room for doubt: he wasn’t welcome.

“You know,” Jayce continued in a soft voice, but with a hint of mischief that only he knew how to wield, “I think my lady here, doesn’t need any more empty compliments from someone who’s only interested in the surface. She’s here for her intelligence, for what she brings to the city. And I think that… is far more attractive than any cheap remark you could make.”

The man, caught by Jayce’s passive-aggressive tone, hurried to apologize and walked away, unsure of how to defend himself against the elegant subtlety with which Jayce had disarmed him.

Once the politician had gone, Jayce turned to you with a warmer smile, his eyes softening when he saw that you had remained silent, a little tense from the exchange.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently, caressing your arm delicately. “I don’t like it when you’re bothered, but you know I won’t let someone so… bland… get close to you like that.”

You smiled, relieved by his intervention but also a little overwhelmed by how perceptive he had been. “Thank you, Jayce. I didn’t know how… to handle the situation.”

He smiled tenderly, his eyes shining with confidence, as always. “You don’t have to,” he said as he got closer, gently cupping your face. He looked at you intently, and without warning, placed a soft kiss on your cheek, the gesture so full of affection that it made your heart skip a beat.

“But if you ever need help getting someone to leave you alone, you know I’ll always be here,” he said, his voice filled with sweetness and protection.

And as you continued walking through the gala, with the gentleness of his touch and his firm presence, you felt that, despite the challenges you sometimes faced, you had someone who knew how to handle any situation without losing his class or his affection.

Ekko

You're walking through the streets of the Undercity, a place known both for its decadent beauty and constant danger. Today seems to be one of those days when the city has a somewhat more chaotic air, but somehow, you feel more at peace than ever with him by your side. Ekko, as always, accompanies you with his relaxed attitude and that confident smile that rarely disappears from his face.

Suddenly, an unknown man appears out of nowhere, interrupting your conversation with Ekko. He gives you a blatant, shameless look, approaching you with the obvious intention of grabbing your attention. He’s the type who clearly believes he can have you with just a few words.

“Well, what do we have here?” he says, with a smug smile. “A beauty like you around here? I can’t imagine why someone so special is wasting their time with a guy like him.” He looks at Ekko, then shifts his gaze back to you. “I’m sure you and I could do great things together. What do you say? I could show you what it really means to live.”

Before you can respond, you notice Ekko, apparently unfazed by the situation. He stops, lets out a light laugh, and approaches, observing the guy with an expression that clearly shows he’s taking the situation as a joke.

“Seriously?” Ekko says in a playful tone, as if he were watching some kind of comedy show. “So, you’re offering my girl ‘what it really means to live’? Let me tell you something, buddy: if she really looked at you, you’d know you’re not even close to being ‘a big deal.’”

The stranger stands there a bit stunned, clearly not expecting such a direct response. Ekko continues, not wasting a second. “You know what? Don’t worry, I won’t waste your time. I’m sure you and your ‘great proposals’ have an audience somewhere else, but… seriously, I recommend you stop wasting your breath here.”

The guy seems confused, and seeing that Ekko isn’t remotely jealous or concerned, he tries to change his tactic. “Come on, don’t be like that, I was just being nice. I’m sure you don’t mind a little competition, right?”

Ekko looks at him with a wide grin, but it’s clear he’s taking nothing seriously. “Competition? Was that a threat or a joke? Because, seriously, if you thought I’d be worried, I think you’ve misunderstood everything. I don’t know if you’re used to dealing with people who don’t know what they want, but let me clarify something: don’t waste my time, buddy.”

The guy seems to finally understand that he’s not going to get anywhere and, somewhat embarrassed, walks away quickly, mumbling something incomprehensible as he retreats.

Ekko, seeing him leave, turns to you with a mocking smile. “See? He didn’t even bother to keep going. Like someone like him had a chance.”

You laugh at his carefree attitude and move a little closer to him, gently touching his arm. “Doesn’t it really bother you when someone approaches me like that?”

Ekko places a hand on his chest, acting as if he’s deeply hurt. “Bother me? No, not at all. I’m so sure of myself and what we have that those things don’t affect me.” Then, he smiles knowingly. “Besides, you know there’s nothing that guy could do to win me over. If you cared about anything else, you’d already know.”

You look into his eyes and, with a playful gesture, touch his cheek. “I don’t know if it’s confidence or arrogance, but I like it.”

Ekko laughs softly before leaning in a little closer to you. “What you like, girl, is that I’m the only one who can make you laugh even in the most ridiculous situations. And if that’s not what matters, I don’t know what does.”

Suddenly, he leans in and gives you a soft kiss on the cheek, as if it’s as natural as breathing. “Come on, let’s not waste any more time with guys like him. Let’s do something better. But before…” He stops for a moment, his playful gaze fixed on you. “Tell me, when did I learn to become this irresistible?”

The situation lightens with his relaxed attitude, and the confidence he has in what you two share makes you smile. With Ekko, there’s no room for doubt or worry. He knows what he has and how to handle anything that comes his way.

Silco

The meeting room is thick with the heavy atmosphere of a business that has no place in the light of day. The men around you are shadowed figures, accustomed to the illegality that runs like poison through the veins of the Undercity. Silco sits at the head of the table, his presence a shadow that dominates the space, and you’re beside him, as always. No one dares to look beyond his presence, and everyone knows that it’s not just his partner who must be respected, but you as well.

You’re his, that’s what everyone thinks. No one dares to say it out loud, but it’s clear in the air. The way he treats you, how he keeps you close to him at all times, how his gaze never leaves you. Silco doesn’t speak of what is obvious, but everyone knows. You are his in a way that no one dares question.

The meeting is tense, filled with discussions about contracts and dirty deals, but the tone shifts quickly when Finn, one of Silco’s oldest and most dangerous partners, leans back in his chair with a cocky grin. This guy’s been in the business for years and isn’t intimidated by the threat Silco represents. But this time, he’s gone too far.

“You know, Silco,” Finn begins, twirling a cigarette between his fingers, a mocking smirk on his face. “I think it’s a waste to have this beauty always by your side and not put her to work properly.” His laugh is bitter, full of malice, and his eyes fix on you with an unsettling intensity. “How about you let me borrow her for a day? Or better yet... how much would I have to pay to spend a night with her? You must be making a good amount from such a treasure, right?”

The air freezes instantly. The room falls silent, and even the toughest men know that a very fine line has just been crossed. Silco doesn’t speak for a moment; there’s something about his calmness that’s terrifying, a calm that always precedes a storm.

Silco slowly raises his head, his dark eyes fixed on Finn, his gaze as cold as steel. His face remains unchanged, but the atmosphere around him grows thick, dangerous.

The silence is absolute, and all eyes are on Finn, who is now visibly uncomfortable. However, Silco doesn’t budge. At that precise moment, his gaze shifts toward Sevika, his right-hand woman, who stands by the wall. Sevika’s imposing figure doesn’t need words to understand her boss’s intention. Silco gives her an imperceptible nod, and in an instant, Sevika moves with lethal speed.

In the blink of an eye, Finn is at the table, a loud thud fills the room as Sevika slams him against the surface, his face now smashed against it. Everyone watches in silence, as if the very air has stopped, knowing that Silco’s simple gesture has activated the kind of violence that should always be avoided in his presence.

“I’d suggest you think very carefully before you speak, Finn,” Silco says calmly, his gaze fixed on the humiliated man. “Because I don’t like anyone questioning what belongs to me, and certainly not disrespecting it like that.”

Finn staggers, slowly getting up, embarrassed and frightened. However, it’s not enough. Silco looks at him as though he’s observing a pest, and his tone is all Finn needs to understand this is his final warning.

“Now, apologize to her,” Silco orders, his voice almost a whisper of pure threat. “And do it in a way that reminds you how low you’ve fallen, because I’m not willing to tolerate such disrespect in my territory.”

The room is in absolute silence. The tension could be cut with a knife, and all present, even the toughest men, don’t dare make a single move. Finn, trembling, has no choice but to give in. He turns toward you, his face conflicted but clearly defeated, and his voice, full of humiliation, rises in the air. You almost felt sorry for him.

“I… I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shame and fear evident on his face. “I shouldn’t have spoken like that. I apologize.”

Silco doesn’t say anything, but his expression says it all. It’s a clear message: never again.

After a few seconds, the situation lightens slightly. Silco returns to his seat, and the room resumes its usual rhythm, though the fear still lingers in the air. No one will dare challenge him again.

When the tension finally dissipates, Silco turns toward you, and his gaze softens when he sees that you’re unharmed, calm. There’s an intensity in his look, a protective possessiveness that never fades. He takes your hand firmly, guiding you toward the exit of the room without saying another word.

Silco is not a man who needs to explain his gestures. His presence, his actions, speak for him. In his world, no one touches what belongs to him, and anyone who does will learn, like Finn, what it truly means to cross the line.

Mel

The council meeting is at its most tense, with politicians and businesspeople discussing agreements, but something in the air changes when a man, one of the most influential businessmen, dares to flirt with you. He leans toward you with an arrogant smile, throwing out bold comments.

"I’ve always wondered how someone as... attractive as you ends up next to a woman as cold as Mel," he says with a smile. "How about we grab a coffee later? I’m sure we could talk about things much more interesting than this boring meeting."

Silence spreads across the room. Everyone watches the situation, but Mel doesn’t change her posture. She stays silent, but the tension in her body is palpable. Something in the air tells you this is not a game she’s willing to tolerate.

"Do you dare talk about her like that?" Mel finally speaks, her tone soft but laced with threat. "Last time I checked, this meeting wasn’t a place for cheap advances."

The man, who had been confident, now looks visibly uncomfortable. "If you speak like that again, I assure you, it won’t be coffee you’ll be having, but a much... bitterer deal."

The threat is clear. All eyes focus on the man, who now seems small and uncomfortable. Mel doesn’t need to raise her voice for everyone to feel the weight of her authority.

"My apologies," he murmurs, embarrassed, not daring to look at them.

Mel responds with a cold smile. "I suggest you remember who’s really in control here."

The man nods quickly, speechless. Mel turns toward you, her calculating gaze fixed on you.

"Are you okay?" she asks, and though the question is soft, you know it’s a reminder that no one, not even him, will dare approach you in that way again.

You nod, feeling the security that only Mel can provide. No one will touch what’s hers.

"Let’s go," Mel says, rising gracefully. "We’ve got work to do."

The dynamic has shifted, and the room remains silent, but everyone knows Mel has made it clear who holds the power. You, being hers, are not only protected by her power but by her cunning and absolute control.

As you both leave the room, Mel stops at the threshold, looking at you with an almost evaluative expression.

"And don’t forget," she says quietly, "this is not just for you. It’s for everything you represent." She gives you a look that seems to assess your reaction, as if making sure you understand what’s at stake. "This is just the beginning."

The hallway is silent, but when you both take another step, Mel turns to you with a smile that, although subtle, carries a hint of satisfaction. "Never let anyone underestimate you, especially when they have no idea what they could lose."

She looks at you for a moment, and you realize that, beneath her power and control, there’s something else... something tender.

"I care for you because you’re mine," she whispers, but not possessively��more like a promise, as if she’s telling you that in this world of chaos, she will always be your refuge.

Before you can respond, Mel leans slightly toward you, capturing your lips in a soft kiss, but one full of intensity that leaves you breathless. It’s a short kiss, but enough to convey everything that can’t be said in words. The contact is warm, protective, and for the first time in a long time, you feel completely safe in her arms.

When she pulls away, her eyes seek yours with the unwavering confidence she’s always had, but now with something more. "Don’t forget this," she says, lightly touching your face. "No matter what happens, you’ll always be mine."

With a smile, she takes your hand, and without saying another word, you both continue walking.

Sevika

The hustle and bustle of the streets of Zaun echoes in the distance, but inside the tavern, the atmosphere is dense, heavy. The man approaches the table with that confident look, not as subtle as he thinks, and his words slide out like sweet poison.

"Well, who are you?" he says, smiling as his eyes boldly scan your figure. "A woman so brilliant, so... stunning, in a place like this."

Sevika doesn’t flinch, but you can see the tension ripple through her body, as if something dangerous is about to explode. Her eyes, cold as steel, follow the man while he continues talking, completely unaware of the danger he’s creating.

"I’m sure there’s more behind that facade," he says, getting closer, his voice too near your ear. "A beauty so rare, so unique, can’t just be a pretty face."

The discomfort grows inside you, but it’s Sevika who feels it first. Her expression shifts from calm to contained fury. She looks at you for a moment, as if asking for permission to act, and when your eyes meet, you know the situation is about to turn dangerous.

The man persists, but Sevika won’t tolerate it anymore. She stands up, her boots echoing on the floor with a firmness that makes everyone fall silent. Her words come out as a whisper, but they are loaded with a threat that everyone feels.

"If you don’t leave right now, I’ll make you wish you were never born," she says, her voice low, but her deadly tone unmistakable.

The man steps back, and his eyes finally show fear. Sevika gives him no space to react, her presence crushes him, forcing him to step back, and without saying another word, the man turns and disappears into the crowd, his ego shattered by Sevika's imposing figure.

She returns to her seat, the calm returning to her face, though the intensity of her gaze doesn’t fade. She looks at you, and for the first time, her lips curve into a smile that’s anything but kind. It’s pure possessiveness, a warning without words.

"Does it bother you when someone gets that close to you?" she asks, her tone almost playful, as if testing your limits.

You look at her, feeling the heat in your chest. There’s no fear, only confidence, because you know you’ll always have your strong, powerful woman by your side to protect you, to defend you from anything that tries to break the bubble you’ve built with her. You move closer slowly, her eyes never leaving yours.

"I feel fine," you reply with a seductive smile, letting your words linger between the two of you. "I know I’ll always have you—my strong, fierce, and captivating woman, who will always protect me." You flirt as you settle comfortably in her lap.

Sevika raises an eyebrow, a playful yet dangerous smile curling on her lips. Her hot breath brushes against your neck. "Good that you know," she whispers, her voice low and raspy, laden with a desire only you can understand. "Because as long as I’m by your side, no one will touch you. And the best part... is that you don’t even have to ask. I’ll take care of them in an instant."

"You’re so extra," you smile, biting her muscled arm playfully.

"Do you always have to do that?" she asks, not annoyed but intrigued, her hand gently petting your head.

"What can I say?" you reply with a teasing glint in your eyes. "It turns me on seeing you so jealous and possessive over me."

She growls softly, then grabs her beer, finishing it in one swift motion. Her gaze sharpens as she takes your hand.

"I think it’s time to head home," she says, her voice dripping with intent. "I plan to make the most of this behavior of yours while I can."

Sevika intertwines her fingers with yours, a silent promise that no one and nothing will dare cross that line. As the noise of the tavern continues, you and Sevika are momentarily isolated in your own world of protection, passion, and control—where only she holds the power to keep you safe.

[bluem1lls]

✧₊⁺ forget about everything for a while

se-mi x fem! reader

✦ synopsis: you find your ex in the place you least expect it, and then again in the bathroom. she wants to say sorry but she doesn't know how..so maybe eating you out helps?

tw: minors dni, smut w a little plot, bathroom sex, fingering/oral (r!receiving), sub!reader, dom!se-mi, degradation (a little?), a bit of choking

authors note: hi! this is my first time writing (and in english) so im trying my best! tysm for reading and i hope u like it!

of course she's here.

you would've thought that after years of trying to get over her, the next time you'd see her, it would be at the coffee shop, where both used to go frequently. maybe even at the gas station, where she bought cigarettes and (per your request) a slushie.

you never thought you'd find your ex at the games where everyone was getting killed.

but of course you did.

so when you saw her standing there, wide eyed, being left alone to basically die as her entire group left her, the only conscious thing you could do was run to her and grab her hand.

se-mi stares at you, taking a double look to see if she was mistaken but nop, that's just her luck. it was you.

she would recognize that hair everywhere.

"what the fuck-" se-mi said, like she'd seen a ghost.

"no time to talk, maybe later" you said, dragging her into one of the rooms and closing the door behind.

she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms in front of her chest, she wanted to say a lot and at the same time, she had no words.

"why are you here?" she asked. her eyes searched for yours.

"my dad, he's.. extremely i'll and i couldn't let my mom carry with all that" you spoke, trying to regain your breath from the adrenaline of minutes ago and ignoring her pleading stare.

se-mi stares at the floor, trying to find the right words to say. what could she say to make it better.. after all these years?

"i didn't know. he's a really good man... i'm sorry"

"yeah." you reply, bitter "how could you know when you've been declining my calls and ignoring me?" you roll your eyes as you leaned against the door.

"i can't do this here, i really can't" se-mi said, putting her hands over her face trying to supress the wave of sadness that washed over her everytime she thought about you.

you bite your lip with rage. she was still avoiding you, after all this time.

"yeah no worries. i wasn't planning on staying here talking to my ex either" you mumbled.

she glanced over you trying to keep her cool facade as they open the doors

hell. you couldn't wait till this was done.

as you stirred in bed once. two. three times without being able to sleep, you decided that maybe the best would be to splash some water on your face, at least to be somewhat alert.

knocking on the door asking for the bathroom, the guards weirdly enough allow you without a lot of resistanse. maybe they're in a good mood.

you open the bathroom door and stand in front of the mirror, taking some water in between your hands to splash on your face.

you let out a sight when se-mi steps out of one of the stalls, closing the door behind her.

she looks a bit surprised when she sees you standing there. she stays in silence as both lock eyes from the mirror, her gaze softening as she roamed all over your face.

after a few seconds, she spoke in a soft and quiet voice.

"can't sleep huh?"

you nodded, turning around to look at her.

"it's been hard here. i just don't know when it's gonna be the last game" you spoke. she nodded in agreement.

there's an expression that you can't read on her face. it feels like guilty, pity and sadness all at once. you can see a hint of concern in her eyes.

"i really am sorry, you know...for not calling." she says.

you nod, getting closer to her, taking her scent. almost forgot the way she smells.

she looks at you with a frown on her face. deep down, you know she's sorry.

"i tried so hard to let you go..." you whisper, looking into her eyes.

"i tried too." she says, leaning an inch closer. "it never worked"

her eyes slowly reading all your features, as she took a deep breath and slowly placed a hand on your cheek, gentle. leaning into her hand, you sure missed her touch.

she bit her lower lip and gently cupped your face in between her hands.

"it's up to you se-mi. i've already said everything you needed to know. you were the one who was never sure" you whispered, feeling her breath on your face as the distance kept closing.

before you could even register what she was doing, you hear her mumbling a soft "fuck it" before she closed the distance and pressed her lips against yours.

the moment your lips touched, it felt like something snapped inside of both. one of her hands slid down to grab your thighs, encouring you to wrap your legs around her waist. so you did.

she pressed your body against the wall from behind while bitting rough on your lower lip. the kiss going from slow and loving to a rough, deeper one. both tongues fighting for dominance, you let her enter in your mouth as one of her hands slides from your thighs to your neck, softly squeezing for a few seconds, making you break the kiss to whimper for air.

her eyes scanned your whole face, eyes and pouty lips, basically begging her to fuck you. she let out a low groan as she kissed you again and again, going harder each time. her mind filled with nothing but the taste of your lips and the feeling of your chest pressed against her. little moans escaping from your lips, making her wanna ruin you right then and there.

"i missed this so much" you mumble in between kisses. the words sending a small pang to her chest as she pulled away from the kiss to lean her forehead against yours. her voice slightly shaking from lust, replies.

"i missed this too"

you pulled her by the neck, enough for her to kiss you again. you could feel yourself throbbing only from the kisses. grabbing her hand that sat on your waist, you lowered it down to where you needed her the most.

"i cant wait any longer.. please" you begged her to ruin you.

she looked at you with lustful eyes. "if it was any other moment, i'd make you beg, but since i dont think we have that much time.." she said, falling on her knees.

you pulled the pants and panties all in one go as she helped to get rid of them and pushed you softly against the wall.

she placed one of your legs on her shoulder and started to kiss your inner thighs, making you let go small whimpers. se-mi could feel herself growing wetter just by your scent, it was driving her crazy.

you placed a hand on her hair, softly pulling, and quickly her kisses escalated from inner thighs to your puffy clit, as her lips wrapped around it, you couldn't help but moan.

"be quiet" she hissed. "or you want everyone to know what a slut you are? maybe next time i'll fuck you in the common room" she smirked as you replied with a desesperate moan and a nod. "of course you'd like that. want everyone to know i'm the only one who fucks you stupid, princess?

as she finished her sentence, she placed her tongue on your clit. a cold feeling left you whimpering.

oh.

is that-

thats a tongue piercing.

of course she got a tongue piercing.

you covered your mouth with one hand to quiet your moans as the other one pulled her hair.

as two fingers entered your needy cunt, you bit your lip to quiet a loud moan. she kept working her tongue on your clit while roughly doing and 'in and out' motion with her fingers that was quickly dragging you to the edge. her eyes became almost black with lust as she roamed your fucked out face, your eyes rolled back from pleasure.

"i forgot how good you are at this oh my god-" you kept moaning and whimering as her fingers became rougher and quicker inside and her tongue picked a more rapid pace "no one will ever make me cum like you do se-mi"

her mind clouded with lust as she heard your words. she added another finger and could feel your cunt clenched around her.

"gonna cum baby? you feel so thight around my fingers." she said, her words driving you closer and closer to your release. "poor baby, she was just begging to be fucked like the slut she is, i bet no one ever made you this wet" she cooed while teasing. se-mi chuckles at the way you moan senseless in agreement.

"i need you to use your words, can you do that baby?" she says, her tongue pace fastening making you clench even more. "or maybe i should stop and let you talk"

"n-no please- please. im so close, s- so close please" i begged in between whimpers.

she grunted, fucking you harder. "cum for me princess, cum in my mouth. you're such a good slut" she said while wrapping her lips and sucking around my clit.

the motion of her lips and her fingers curling against your spongy walls at the same time, hitting your g spot, was enough to have your cunt pulsing and eyes rolling back. you felt the pressure snap and a warmth spreading on your lower tummy, you arched your back.

she keeps slurping everything until youre a whiny and trembling mess.

she decreases her pace, slowly removing her fingers and standing up, making you lick her fingers clean, staring into her eyes.

she helps you get dressed again, and it feels like how it used to all over again, the soft aftercare.

after cleaning you, she softly kisses your forehead and pecks your lips, she was apart from you once, and she's never gonna do it again.

"i love you. i'm so sorry for everything" she says, still trying to catch her breath.

you nod, tired, and give her a fucked out smile as she chuckles.

"i still love you too. so this was a 'im sorry for breaking your heart, i'll fix it by eating you out' kind of apology?" you say, trying to stop your legs from shaking.

you let yourself into her arms as she hugs you tight and fixes your hair gently.

"mhm, but i'll have to keep doing it, just so i can make sure you forgive me"

"please do..."

[milawritess]

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow — Gojo Satoru

pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

synopsis: crushed by the pressure of his work, Satoru and the reader's relationship begins to spiral. You do everything you can to make him happy, but you fear it's not enough. Maybe it never was. After a miscalculation that could have resulted in innocent lives being lost, the situation takes a turn for the worse.

Word count: 17k+ (I'm sorry in advance)

genre: heavy angst with happy ending

warnings: heavy angst, swearing, reader is a motherly figure to Megumi but their relationship is a bit strained, mentions of depression and self-doubt, reader is a sorcerer, fighting, insecurity, arguments, and breakups (?), descriptions of gore, mentions of sexual intercourse (mdni), depictions of a complicated and untraditional relationship, reader gets hurt, hardly edited/proofread (oops), gojo is fed up and mean :(

a/n: this is the first and longest thing I've ever posted on here lol. I felt like there was a lack of sorcerer!reader, so I played around with that concept a little bit. other than potentially shitty writing (sorry for any typos or grammatical errors), I truly hope you enjoy <3

“Get out.”

The hash sentiment lingers, hanging heavily in the air. 

“Well, hello to you too.”

He hears your feet shuffle across the floor as you stumble to take your shoes and coat off. “I just came to check on you.”

“And I’m fine,” he responds without moving, one arm up, draping over his aching eyes. He lies on the living room couch, one lanky leg propped up at an angle.

“You’re clearly not fine,” you respond, seeming unphased. “Have you eaten anything?” You ask, waiting for a response that never comes. “Okay, I’ll make your favorite ramen.” 

He feels the side of the couch dip, your hand settling on his chest. Your fingers were greedy like you couldn’t stop yourself from playing with the fabric or caressing his taut muscles. Your voice is gentler when you speak this time. “Do you want an ice pack? Some tea?”

You two have done this dance before. You come home to find him exhausted, overworked with a migraine that could tranquilize an elephant. And just like always, you carefully slip his shoes off and unbutton the sleek black jacket to his uniform. It’s hard for him to stay mad about anything when you’re this kind, this caring. 

“Satoru, please say something.”

“There’s nothing to say.”

Your voice was so gentle. So sweet, saccharine, and so fucking patient. A voice you only ever reserved for him and for his ears only. A gentle whisper carried in a gentle breeze. It was his favorite sound. 

But not tonight. 

So you try something else. Sweet kisses along the corner of his lips. You’re even bold enough to move his arm, the arm he was using to desperately block out any light or simulation. You kiss his eyelids, his forehead, and cheeks—feather-light. Your hand slides up his chest before reaching his face. You caress your thumb under his closed eyes, and your other hand finds his hair, gently massaging his temple. He has all of you. Every bit. 

“Let me take care of you.” If it were any other night, your breath fanning his neck would have shattered him; goosebumps would have wrecked his body, he’d shiver, and everything in him would ease, and all of his stress would slip away into nothingness. He never had to be the strongest with you. You would render him down to nothing but a simple man with just a few words. “You don’t look too good, honey. I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.” For a woman so strong in your own right, a woman of unyielding dignity and poise and unwavering determination to succeed, this is his favorite side of you. 

But not tonight. 

When his hand clasps your wrist, he feels your whole body freeze against his. Maybe you were surprised. Maybe you predicted this and were preparing yourself but-

The tongue-lashing dies in his throat when he opens his eyes. Just a peak to your face makes him falter. You were pouting. Worried. “I’m fine.” it’s harsher than you deserve but kinder than the thoughts swirling through his head a second ago. 

He’s agitated. Stuck in the same old system that continues to fuck him over—his students over. 

And yet, you just looked too beautiful. 

You pull away, finally taking the hint. Then, you stand, fully removing yourself from him and stepping away. Your body heat quickly disappears from where you once sat, and he quivers. The room was quiet once again. 

The room remained quiet even as you placed a hot bowl of ramen on the table beside him, a glass of water, and two pills. 

You slept alone that night. 

-

You remember when you first met Megumi. 

“Who the hell are you?” 

You never would have expected that to be the the words from a child you had just met. You raised a brow. “Well, aren’t you a fucking, brat?” 

You were different back then—colder, angrier. You were similar in that sense.

Oddly enough, maybe that’s what gravitated him to you.  

You’re not sure when it happened, but gradually, the harsh edges of you began to… change. Not entirely softened, as thorns remained, but you bloomed, red petals and all. You grew softer, kinder, more patient—and finally—your heart had made space for others. The fear of loss remained, but you had never cared for someone so fragile. No one had ever cried for you, reached for you with small chubby fingers, or depended on you as he once had. You never had someone in your life that needed to be nurtured, protected, and guided. 

He was just a boy. 

Over time, you realized that if you remained unchanged, perhaps he would never grow into the man he needed to be. You’re not sure why he picked you, why he looked up to you of all people, but he did. He found comfort in you and followed you like a little duckling with a little waddle and permanent scowl. 

There wasn't a rhyme or reason. He chose you, and you chose him. 

Soon enough, you were waking him up for school, running your hands through his messy, dark locks. You were making him bento boxes, running to parent-teacher conferences, and having hard but meaningful conversations with him in his room about his troubling behavior. 

Then you were hugging him as he cried, as he revealed the same dark thoughts you once had about yourself. 

You wished this world wasn’t so cruel, so dark. You hope that in a different life, he would have grown into a normal kid, with hopes and dreams and a list of things he wanted to do and go out and experience. You didn’t want him to be shackled to a world that’s left you so scarred.

You fought for any sense of normality you could give him. If that meant confronting the higher-ups, so be it. At times, you even confronted Satoru. 

He was just a boy. 

Fire never harmed you;  it never dared to scorch your skin. You commanded and held domination over nearly every flicker of heat. He was so small when you met him; you remember the first time you saw his small form shiver in the cold. It made you anxious. Despite buying him the heaviest winter coat you could find, you were beside yourself, always wondering—is he warm enough? 

But, long were the days of you bundling him up in his jacket, tying his shoes, and tugging beanies over his dark hair and red ears. Long were the days of you clasping his little hands in yours to bring them warmth when the air grew too bitter. He grew older, smarter, wiser, and stronger. The boy that used to cling to your skirt after a hard day at school now stood inches taller than you. 

You knew that one day he’d leave you, and you were okay with that. Seeing him so ready for the world made you happy. You worried—of course you still worried—but you were so proud. He was hesitant, unsure at times, and sometimes even looked back to you for assurance. 

You were always there, smiling, ushering him along. 

You can do it. I believe in you. 

You grew up together, you think. Sometimes, you wondered if he ever paid for your shortcomings, or if he remembered your failures as a caregiver, but just like you did him, he’d assure you with a soft nudge and a gentle smile. 

He knows you did the best you could with what you had.  

He was just a boy. 

Your boy. 

He wasn’t yours, but you loved him like he was. Only as he grew did you realize the lines you had crossed. 

He doesn’t remember his mother, but you’re sure he remembered her smile, perhaps her touch, or the sound of her laughter. You never meant to impose on her memory.

When it happened, he had just gotten into Tokyo Jujutsu High, and Satoru took him on his first official mission. You no longer had the means of pushing this off; you couldn’t beg Satoru or the higher-ups for another month, another week, another day. Megumi wasn’t a normal kid. He was a sorcerer and needed to start fulfilling his duties and mastering his technique.

“You can’t avoid the inevitable. You can’t protect him forever,” Satoru had once told you. 

You knew he was right. 

You stayed home that day, anxious and worried, but you knew Megumi would be alright. Satoru was with him. Even if the tall man was a bit harder on Megumi than you, you knew he’d keep him safe. 

However, your worst fears came to fruition. Megumi wasn’t the same after that mission. 

You remember. Satoru’s eyes were stern that night while Megumi's eyes never left the floor as he made his way to his room. 

You remember thinking—what could I do to make my boys happy again? 

After all, they were your everything, the reason you stood here now with a full heart. Things were newer for you and Satoru then, but he kissed you that night, warm, large hands gently holding your cheeks. He missed you a little bit extra that day. You were nervous, hesitant to fall into the sanctuary of his embrace, but it was only a matter of time until you were fully, devotedly his.

 “Are you okay?” You had asked, only for him to nod his head. 

“Yeah. Of course, I am, angel. Megumi is shaken up, but he’ll be alright too.” 

You made Megumi’s favorite dinner that night—the same beefsteak he’s raved about since he was only six. Well, he never raved, but you perfectly remember the first time you made it, which happened to be the first time he tried it. He could barely get his chin over the table to scope his food into his mouth. He wasn’t good with chopsticks yet, so he used a little fork, which he held in his tiny fist. His little eyebrows raised before dipping down, creasing at the inner corners as he concentrated on the flavor. He murmured it’s good, and you remember being so proud of yourself. That was one of the first times you felt that you were doing something right by him. You made the same dish on occasion, and time only helped you perfect the recipe. 

Megumi never came out of his room that night. The lights were off when you knocked. Even after hearing no response, you had cracked open the door, poking your head inside. 

“Gumiii,” you stepped into his room. He was on his bed, groaning as you flicked the light on. He turned his back to you. “I made your favoriteee.”  

You had sat on the edge of his bed, a hot plate of food in your hands. “C’mon, it’s the beefsteak you like. Nice and warm.”

“‘m not hungry,” he had grumbled. 

You sighed. “The mission must have been unpleasant.” He remained still. “I’m sorry, Gumi. Satoru said you did well! I’m proud of you—” he flinched from your touch, snapping his arm away from your reach. You froze, having felt the coldness of his rejection. “If you don’t want to talk about the mission, how was your first day at your new school?” You asked. “Do you have any classmates you like?”

“Just quit it already…” he had murmured. “I’m not in the mood.”

Your shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I just want to make sure you’re okay. My first mission was tough too, and you already know I wasn’t great at making friends either–” you winced, biting your tongue.  This was coming out all wrong. “… are you okay, Megumi?” 

“I’m fine!” He clipped, pushing himself upright in bed. “Just leave me alone and stop acting like you’re my mom already!”  

You remembered—and just the memory of that night shambled your heart. You could never forget the hurt those words caused and how you couldn’t show it. 

You had smiled wearily. Then, you placed his dinner on his desk. “…you’re right,” you echoed. “I’m not her, never could be. I’m sorry if I imposed. I never meant to.”

You never spoke of the incident, but you remembered that things were tense between Satoru and Megumi for a short while after that. You told Satoru to drop it, but you had a feeling the poor boy received a tongue-lashing from Satoru. You were never sure, though, and you could never prove it. 

You just remembered feeling cracks in the foundation of the home you never knew you had so carefully crafted, brick by brick. Some of the warmth was gone—a warmth you never knew was quite there until it wasn’t. 

Little by little, you pulled back. Megumi moved into the student dorms shortly after, and he needed you less and less. You no longer made him bento boxes or his favorite beefsteak. You bit your tongue with the lectures: Megumi, that’s not nice, or Megumi, you need to have more faith in yourself. You can do it.  

Though the bitter bite of cold never entirely touched you, heated by an unquenchable fame, you pulled back your hand when you reached for him. He left you seared—burned. 

You still worried. You never knew if you were giving him too much or not enough. So, you left most of the mentoring to Satoru now.  It’s been a few months since the incident, and now you only ever speak to him if he approached you first. 

That's why you were happy when you spotted him in town. You offered him a small, shy wave. He unexpectedly approached you and asked how you were and what you’d been up to. However, the most unexpected part was when he asked if you were busy. You shook your head, and it was impossible to hide you beam when he offered to get you hot chocolate from the same coffee shop you used to take him to after school in the colder months.

However, it seemed you weren’t the only one confused by Satoru’s recent behavior. 

“Huh?”

“Gojo didn’t want me going on my mission,” Megumi reiterated. 

You blink a few times, tapping your fingers against the styrofoam cup in your hands. “Huh. He’s never done that before.”

“He doesn’t think I’m ready. He took the mission himself.”

“He said that? That he doesn’t think you’re ready?”

“Well… not exactly.” He scowls slightly, looking down at the cup of hot chocolate. “But he damn well implied it.”

“Gumi,” you frown at the boy. He doesn’t make eye contact with you; he looks forward now, gazing out the window and watching the fresh snow coat the ground. 

He was upset. 

“He could’ve at least taken me with him.”

For a moment, you see that same little boy you met over ten years ago and that same dejected look on his face after being let down one too many times. It breaks your heart. 

“If Satoru took the mission and went alone, I’m sure it’s for a good reason.”

He wants to say more but opts for something quick and sweet. “Yeah. Maybe.”

You have to do something. Quick. Anything to make him a bit happier. “I have a mission later in Osaka. I’ll be catching the 2 pm train. Wanna come? I could use the extra help.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, thinking, you presume, but he nods. “Yeah, sure. I don’t have anything else to do.” 

“Great! And just so you know, we’ll probably be dealing with a grade one or two.” 

He pauses momentarily before calmly asking, “And you need help with that?”

“Uh, yeah. Any help is much appreciated. Plus, I haven’t seen you much recently.” You smile brightly, and he turns his head, eyes finding the ground, looking a little bashful. 

“About that…” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave him off. “You’ve been busy with school, and I know that.”

“But that’s not–”

“It’s okay, Megumi,” you smile again, resisting the urge to reach across the table and gently squeeze his hand. “I get it.”

He gives you a look, a small disgruntled scowl. He wanted to say more.

“Alrighty then.” You stand, stretching from sitting in the chair. “I’ll buy you another hot chocolate for the road. We should probably start getting ready to leave.”

-

The mission goes well. An abandoned warehouse in Osaka conjured up a nasty looking grade three, but Megumi held his own just fine—like you expected. He’s grown much stronger and more sure of himself. You’re proud. Seeing how far he’s come certainly puts a smile on your face. He’s not a little boy anymore, you realized. He’s growing into a fine young man. 

Urg. Stop getting emotional. 

However, after stopping for a later dinner, you both arrived home late, around nine or so. 

“You did good tonight, Megumi,” you tell him for the nth time. 

He rolls his eyes, tucking his hands deep into his pockets. “You’ve told me that already.”

“I know, I know. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m proud of you. You’re getting so much stronger.”

Instead of brushing you off like all the other times, he sighs before offering a forced “thanks.” 

“Alrighty then. Try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you and the others sometime tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sounds good. Get back home safe.”

You nod, smiling. You make sure to watch him as he goes, making sure he gets inside before turning around. He’s capable of taking care of himself, but some habits never grow old. Making sure he gets inside anywhere safely has always been something you’ve prioritized, whether he was going to a friend's house, school, or boarding the train. 

You loved him like your own, but you knew he wasn't. After all, it was only a few months ago now that he reminded you that he wasn't yours.

You’re not my mom. 

It hurt—it still does—but you never held it against him. You still loved him nevertheless. Your relationship might have shifted but it doesn’t negate the fact that you care for him and would gladly give your life if it meant keeping him safe. 

Then, there was Kugisaki and Itadori—two others slowly weaseling their way into your heart. They’ve helped Megumi so much; he might be too proud to admit it, but they’ve helped him come out of his shell; they were his friends, and you knew they had each other backs. 

You sigh, a translucent cloud of white floating up and above your head. Just like always, your thoughts shift to blue eyes. Satoru. You’ve missed him today. No calls or obnoxious spam texts. It’s not unusual per se, especially when he gets busy. Regardless, you missed him.

But, something is bothering you. He wasn't communicating with you and he usually tells you these things. Even if he didn't have the time to tell you something right away, he'd eventually find a moment to talk to you. This time around, he didn’t. He didn't tell you he was leaving or about the whole ordeal with Megumi.

He just got up and left. You woke to a cold bed and an empty house. No text message, no note with a silly doodle. When you called him in the morning, it went right to voicemail. Eventually, when you pull up your shared text messages to check for anything new, you only saw the message you sent him from the day before. At a loss, you type out a quick message. You didn't think it would make things better, but at least it was something.

I hope you have a good day today :) 

It was all you could really muster up after last night. He seemed so agitated, and so fed up. You blamed it on stress; he isn’t usually like that. Usually, his touch was careful, calculated as if you were fixed of glass. You missed his lame jokes and mischievous grins when he was up to no good. You weren't offered any of that last night. Or the night before. Even the night before that. 

You’re starting to worry. 

He always bounces back so quickly. The only thing that typically gets him this mad are the higher-ups. Which, in Megumi's case, makes sense. You can see why Gojo would intervene if they gave him a dangerous mission. 

But why didn’t he take Megumi with him, at least?

Hm.. maybe it was beyond Megumi's skill set. Would the elders be stupid enough to set him up? They did it to you long ago, but they wouldn’t be bold enough to do it to the boy with the ten shadows technique, would they?

Or maybe Satoru… just doesn’t want to be near you?

Urg. You roll your eyes at your own selfish thoughts. Satoru wouldn’t do something like that. He’s already overworked as it is. Maybe you should make him something. A nice dinner? Or maybe he needed a pick-me-up? Kikufuku? You’re sure you could find the recipe online. 

You're torn, so you decide to make both. Maybe you'll even put on a nice dress. 

You decide to call him, and after a few rings, he answers. “Hey, honey,” you say sweetly, happy he even bothered to answer your call. "I was wondering when you’d be home tonight. I want to make you a nice dinner.”

He’s quiet again—too quiet. “Dinner? Tonight?” 

“Yeah, you’ve been so busy lately. I figured you’d like that.” 

He hums into the phone, sounding a bit lighter. “Dinner does sound nice…” 

Your smile widens. You could hear the underlying stress in his tone; it was flatter than usual, but at least he was trying. “... I’ll even put on your favorite dress?” 

He chuckles a bit. “Tempting, but I’ll probably have to leave after dinner.”

“Oh,” you murmur, wincing slightly at the rejection. Maybe you’ve gotten too spoiled—too accustomed to him pushing off his responsibilities all for the sake of spending a few more moments with you. Were you being too greedy?  “Are you okay? They’re not stretching you too thin, are they?”

He sighs in a carefree tone. “I'm doing fine. Same old thing, just a different day,” is all he offers, but you can tell he’s withholding. 

“I can help, y’know,” you offer gently. “If you have too many missions, I can take a few off your plate.”

“Nah,” he tells you a bit arrogantly. “It’s better if I handle it.”

Now you’re really starting to feel the distance. He usually reserves the softer parts of him for you. You suppose he just didn’t have the patience to do so right now. “You, uh, got into it with the higher-ups I heard,” you mention, trying to keep the conversation going but approaching from a different angle. “Megumi was telling me you even took his mission. I think he was a bit upset you didn’t take him with you. How come you never told me?”

“How come you never told me you were going to Osaka? Or the fact that you took him with you?”

Your stomach twists, unease bubbling in your chest. You didn’t like where this was heading. “I– it’s never bothered you before,” you manage, though your voice falters, dying down into nothing but a whisper. “And it’s not like you’ve been… wanting to speak to me recently. I haven't had the time to tell you much of anything," your trail off, your voice slowly fading before you begin again. "Did I do something to make you mad?”

The silence that follows is unbearable—longer than you ever imagined it could be. “Satoru… Please just talk to me.”

“I gotta go,” his tone is cold, clipped, and final. 

There’s a click as he hangs up, and the silence becomes deafening and threateningly absolute.

-

You realize you miss the way he used to look at you. Not the way he'd gaze at you, but in the way he would gaze into you, as though you were ever the only thing that ever really mattered.

After your last conversation with him, you were unsteady. You hated how you stayed in bed for hours, analyzing everything he's said to you recently, dissecting his every action. You hated how needy you suddenly felt, even while laying there, in his bed, in his clothes. He paused just a second too long before answering you now, as if he had to must up the courage and energy to do so. His laugh no longer came out easily. Others might miss it, but you never could. It was still rambunctious, taking up a whole room, but to you, it felt forced, brittle even. You've known Satoru at his best, and you've also known him at his worst.

When he looks at you now, you wonder if he's really seeing you. Painfully, you realize you haven't seen him; not without his eyeband on at least. Last night you did, for the first time in a while, but he seemed agitated.

The worst part was that you didn't know how to bring yourself to confront him. You struggled, unsure which pretty words and cadence would unluck the distance between you two.

Did something happen on one of his missions? Was he stressed? Had the higher-ups pushed him too far, testing his patience?

Or was it you? Was this somehow your fault?

Did you scare him away? Have you said too much, cared too deeply, loved too loudly?

You weren't sure, but you had to try something.

You were grateful you were cooking him dinner tonight on your day off. It was the least you could do, and you adored taking care of him. You choose hot pot, something you and Satoru have tried at home before. It took over a few hours to prepare, but it was worth it. You made two broths, you sliced up shabu-shabu and wagyu beef and even went to the extent of watching a video to make a dipping sauce. Unfortunately, you forgot one of the ingredients for the kikufuku mochi and didn’t want to risk making something he didn’t entirely like. Luckily, you had spare time to run down to the kikufuku store right before it closed. Of course, you grabbed all his favorite, two boxfuls, in fact. He was a big guy, so you hoped you had more than enough food for him to indulge.

You and Satoru were together. Though he never outright asked you to be his, you knew. It was an unspoken thing, and you were content with that. For as goofy and eccentric as that man could be, it was rather surprising how he was never outright with what he was actually feeling. 

He was damn good at showing it, though. In more ways than one. 

You feel it in the way he’d always reach for you after a nightmare. Shaking, needy hands tightly clasping at your waste, fearful of you disappearing and slipping to a place where he could not reach you. Don’t ever go where I can’t follow. Please. His face would nuzzle into your neck, sharply inhaling your scent. You’d hold him, whispering endless promises. I’m here. I’ll always be here. Or it's okay. Breathe, my love. I’m with you. 

You feel it on the nights he’d pin you beneath him, his grunts and moans echoing in your ears as he fills you so completely. He’d beg, no demand you—tell me you’re mine. Only mine. 

And, of course, you’d eagerly nod, overwhelmed with the pleasure only he could strum out of you so perfectly. ‘m yours. All of me—yours. 

You feel it in his protective gaze, his eagerness to hold you in the life vest of his arms. You felt it late into the night, damp bodies pressed against one another; low lighting, quiet laughter, and secrets revealed. His dreams, his wishes, his what ifs—the parts of him that no one knew or considered. Or when he handed you a silver key with a handsome and cheshire grin. What do you say? He was lovely, every bit of him, especially his gentle and selfless heart that you would never take for granted like the rest of the world seemed to. 

You feel it when he comes home from overseas and how his strong arms hold onto you just a bit longer, a bit tighter. You feel it with how he smiles into your neck or that one time at the airport when he lifted you up and spun you around, uncaring who saw. 

You feel it in the way that it was unspoken. You feel it in his cursed energy and how it perfectly intertwined with yours, reaching for you, comforting you when his hands could not. You especially feel it in the necklace he gifted you—the one your fingers were playing with now: a silver chain with cerulean sapphires, the same breathtaking shade of his eyes. His cursed energy, carefully imbued into the stones, was like carrying a piece of him with you—always, wherever you may go, and it rests directly above your beating heart. 

He might not voice it, but you feel it. He loved you. And you certainly loved him. 

So when had it become so hard to reach him? Why does he seem so intangible all of a sudden? Something deep and unsettling blooms in your stomach. 

And now that you think about it…

When was the last time you two did any of that? When was the last time his careful hands caressed you?

Only Satoru could make you this worried or make you feel this displaced. A sense of panic strikes you, and you pull out your phone to text him when you realize he’s thirty minutes late. Usually, that wouldn’t bother you, but–

After only three rings, you're sent to voicemail. When you check his location, he’s at the high school. Should you check on him? Or would that make him… mad?

He toru! Dinners ready. When do you think you’ll be home? Miss you. 

You bite your lip. He quickly read your message, but those three little bubbles never show up. 

Nothing. Just nothing. 

Maybe he’s staying up late writing the report for his latest mission? 

“eek!” Your phone pings, and after a round of hot potato, you see he’s texted you back. 

Only to be met with more disappointment. 

Dealing with something urgent. Don’t wait up. 

You frown, knowing you should drop it, but you can’t. 

Satoru…

He’s typing faster now. What?

You pause, thumbs hovering over letters you hesitate to type. What’s going on? You’ve been off lately. 

I’m fine. Just busy. 

Do you want me to bring you dinner to the High School?

Those three bubbles appear and disappear more times than you can count. No. I said don’t wait up. 

You know I don't sleep well without you.

He responds in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

Your patience is wearing thin for the first time since this ordeal started. Are you saying you won’t be coming home tonight? 

You’re offered no response. He doesn’t even open your message. For the second night, you lay in a cold bed. Except, Satoru doesn’t come home. 

Only he could fracture you so completely. 

-

During your next mission, you brought the whole trio along. According to the report you were handed, you were only dealing with a grade three, but there was also an Infestation in the area. You could use the backup.

You had initially asked Megumi, but once Yuji caught wind, he was adamant that he tagged along, and, according to Nobora she had nothing else better to do. 

“Are you guys sure? It’s your day off.”

Yuji shrugs, both arms up, hands up and behind his head. “Yeah, I’m game.”

“Me too,” Nobora voices with a small glint in her eyes. “I got something new I want to try out anyway. We didn’t get to go on a mission last week as it is.”

You paused. "Huh? Gojo didn’t take you on any?”

“Nah,” Yuji shakes his head. “I think he’s been busy or something.” He looks at Kugisaki. “Hasn’t Gojo-Sensei seemed a little… off?”

Nobora nods. “Uh yeah. He hasn’t been himself at all. We figured you’d know something,” Nobora says, curious eyes scanning you. 

“Huh… I’m not sure. We haven’t gotten around to talking lately.”

Megumi hums, though it sounds more suspicious than his usual passive tone. 

Though they weren’t necessarily your students, you figured there was no harm in taking them. You've done it before and having them around was always like a breath of fresh air—reminding you of why Satoru dedicates himself so fully to his cause and being a teacher. They give you a reason to get stronger and keep fighting. You loved these kids and all their bickering. 

Except, this mission doesn’t go anything like you had expected. The report was wrong—a grade two was ambling through the abandoned schoolhouse. That was fine; the four of you were more than enough to kill it. The infestation was a bit overwhelming, but you had their backs, and they were nothing but pesky small curses lower than a grade four. 

Everything went well when the ambush happens. You all saw it: right in front of your eyes, a grade one emerging from the shadows, born into something nasty. It's skin oozed a sickly black slime that clung to its misshapen body. Its face—or lack there of—was dark and amorphous, split by a jagged maw that stretched impossibly wide, revealing rows of sharp serrated teeth, ready to cut and slash through flesh like a meat grinder. Other that is daunting appearance, the only other notable thing about it was its speed.

You told the kids to back down, but it was already too late. They were already involved, stuck in the heat of battle and fighting as a seamless unite. They were more than capable of standing on their own. 

But you needed them out of here. Your obligation was to protect them no matter how eager they were to help. However, before you could think of your next move, the curse made one last self-preserving attack. It opened in wide jaws, releasing several red beamed energy blast aimed directly at stone pillars. 

You had no time to think, only react. In an instant, you surged forward towards the trio, faster than their eyes could react. Grunting, you knocked them back, glass shattering as you kicked them through a window. You felt the impact ripple through your body, fully knowing you knocked the wind out of Megumi and Yuji. However, they recovered quickly, their instincts sharp enough to catch Nobora–

Right in time before the building collapsed. 

The building groaned like a wounded beast, its entire frame buckling from lack of support. Stone walls crumbled into clouds of dust and debris, windows shattered in explosive bursts, steel beams twisted and snaped with sickening shrieks. The ground trembled violently as the structure gave way, collapsing into a chaotic heap of concrete, rubble, and smoke, swallowing everything beneath. Including you.

You survived. Reinforcing your body with cursed energy made you strong enough to withstand the impact, and your heavenly restriction certainly helped. Nevertheless, you still took on quite a bit of damage from the tons of metal and concrete.

You woke up under the rubble with a startling gasp, choking on the dust. Were you out for a few seconds? Minutes? You were unsure, but the only thing pushing you to stand was the panic coated in Megumi’s voice. He was calling for you, and so were the others. You could hear the strain in their voices, the utter distraught. You healed your broken leg and the gash on the corner of your forehead, ceasing your gushing blood. You gathered yourself and your strength before pushing. They found you quickly after that, noticing a heap of rubble moving. They ran, rushing to help you push back concrete that threatened to suffocate you. You never did like tight spaces. 

Thankfully, you were alright. The kids were safe as well.

However, the curse had escaped. Megumi was visibly shaken, his fingernail cracked, bruised, and bleeding from digging urgently through the rubble to find you. 

Everyone was on edge. It wasn't their fault you didn't react quickly enough. You were more than capable; maybe that's why the failure stung so much.

You let yourself down. You let them down.

You were spiraling into a dark place quickly. The guilt threatened to swallow you whole. Gojo was still nowhere to be seen. You didn't have the strength to call him. You’re not sure what you could even say. You’ve fucked up before, but never to this extent. Not to where a whole building collapsed. 

“Good morning. A tragic incident occurred last night when an abandoned school collapsed around 7 pm. Authorities are currently investigating the cause, and preliminary reports suggest that the collapse could have been due to a structural weakness—one of the many reasons why the school was abandoned in the first place. We will continue to monitor the situation as more information becomes available–"

Megumi gently grabs your phone and locks your screen. Wordlessly, he shakes his head before pocketing your device. You’re too exhausted to ask for it back. 

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sensei?” Yuji's voice was soft, the first voice to break the ice. You look up from your hands, unsure how long you’ve been lost in thought. You force a small smile as you gaze at the three kids. You were sitting across from them in the waiting area outside the council room. 

“I’m alright. Are you guys?"

“We’re all fine,” Megumi cuts in quickly. “We’re– we’re more than okay.”

“That's good,” you trail off. “That's really good.”

Uncertainty hung dangerously in the air. What happened now? You were okay, but for how long? 

You knew you were in for a lashing with all the collateral damage you caused. It was supposed to be a simple mission. This wasn't supposed to happen. You four were fine, but did anyone else get hurt? 

You flinch at your own thought. You don't think you could live with yourself if innocent lives were lost.

“Sensei?” Yuji's soft, unsure voice cuts in once more. When your eyes make contact, he smiles brightly. You can tell it’s forced. “After this, wanna go get something to eat? There’s this great sandwich shop down the street!”

“Y–yeah!” Nobora sits up straight after being less than conspicuously nudged by Yuji. “It’s pretty good. We went the other day–”

The council room door creaked open. The higher-ups were waiting, shrouded in shadows and faces hidden. Even if you couldn't see them, the tension was palpable. Even without seeing them directly, you could sense their anger, smell it as it rolled off of them in a quiet, unspoken fury. You glance at the kids once more, this time with a gentle, reassuring smile curling at your lips. 

Everything would be okay.  

-

Everything was, in fact, not okay. 

The air was heavy as you entered your office. Your limbs ached, your head throbbed, and every breath felt like dragging glass through your lungs. You had thought the worst of it was over, and slowly, you felt your body begin to shut down, but only when there were no prying eyes to see how you compensated for your injuries. Even after using RCT, you had a limp—your bones were mended but not quite right. Your head was no longer bleeding—but still, you weren't quite right. 

You dismiss it as exhaustion; after all, you had just learned RCT not too long ago. Maybe you missed something. However, this wasn’t anything you couldn't handle on your own. You could see Shoko, but why bother her? You’ve endured far worse. Dealing with a sore body and a headache for the next few days wasn’t out of your jurisdiction. 

When you open the door, a flickering lamplight reveals a tall frame standing by your desk. Even before your eyes dance upon his sharp and still silhouette, the air shifts—your soul already knows he is there. Satoru.

But, his eyes never meet yours; you weren’t blessed enough to see them, a bright blue illuminating in the absence of light. His eyes were covered with a familiar dark cloth. However, you didn’t need to see them to know that the usual warmth they held as he gazed upon you was gone. In its place was a coldness that turned your stomach.

“Satoru–”

“I know,” he says, voice clipped as he turns to face you. “I read the reports.” Your heart sinks as he haphazardly tosses the report down to your desk. 

You’re exhausted, unsure of where to even begin. So many questions floated in your weary mind. Where were you? When did you get here? Please, don’t be mad at me. 

It’s funny how all your dignity, poise, and strength to endure are gone with him. You already took one berating from the elders, and you’re not sure you could handle another. 

Not from him. 

“But, I want to hear it from you.” He stepped closer, his height making him all the more domineering. “What happened out there? And how the hell are my students caught up in all of this?”

“The report was wrong. It was a grade two, not three, but we handled that just fine. We cleared out the area and completed the mission, but we were ambushed. A grade one appeared, destroyed the pillars, and–” You hesitate, unable to form the words. “Well, you know what happened.” He’s quiet, too quiet for your liking. “I–I did everything I could, Satoru. The students were fine, but the curse got away.”

“Everything you could?" His voice echoes. "I don’t need excuses. Certainly not from you. You endangered them—all of them. They’re not even your students!” He snapped, his voice rising in a way you’ve never heard before.

You bite back the lump forming in your throat. “I thought you, out of anyone, would understand the circumstances.”

“...Understand?” He utters back, a quiet fury rolling off him in waves. 

 “I made sure that–”

“You failed,” he snaps, voice laced with malice. “Enough. Just stop it. You were reckless and went behind my back, and you let a pathetic grade one get the best of you.”

Your chest tightened, crumbling at the weight of his tone. “Went behind your back? I did no such thing.”

“They could have been hurt because of you!” You visibly flinch, his words carrying more weight than the debris that had buried you—broken bones and all. 

“I’m recommending you be demoted to grade two.” 

What?

“You can’t do that. Satoru, you can’t–”

“I can,” he said coldly. “and I will. You failed, and not only did you fail, you went behind my back and involved my students. Your recklessness caused this,” disdain coats his voice, and he sucks his teeth. “I was gone for two fucking seconds, and you damn near ruined everything. People could have died. My students could have been injured. So stop being a nuisance and just do as you're told from here on out.”

No. 

No, no, no, no. 

You fought for years to get to grade one. A woman with a name of no renown—this society was never in favor of you; the system was set up for you only to fail time and time again. For years, you were held at grade three, then grade two, all because of your name’s sake—all because you were a woman. You didn’t have the luxury of being as good as other sorcerers; you had the burden to be better. 

Even now, at grade one, they continue to undermine you and undervalue you. You knew you didn’t have room to make mistakes, for they would tarnish every bit of good you have done. You thought Satoru understood that. You thought he viewed you as an equal, someone strong enough to stand by him. You thought he valued you, respected you. 

You never thought a mistake, a stupid mistake, would lead to this. 

It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. 

“This has nothing to do with my rank. You don’t believe me. You don't trust me. After everything–”

Hearing his scornful laugh, your vision begins to blur. “Don’t make this personal. You fucked up, and now I have to clean up your mess.”

Your ears begin ringing. The pounding in your head becomes too much and threatens to crack your skull open once more.

“But it is, isn’t it?” You whisper. How could it not be personal with how he's been treating you for days? “You haven't been able to look at me in weeks. You speak to me as if I’ve become nothing but a burden to you—a nuisance. What did I do to deserve this?”

He remains silent, the muscles in his jaw ticking as he grits his teeth. Point proven.

Your heart painfully twists with each beat. “Do you even… care about me anymore?” You’re not sure why you say it, why the words slip past your lips, but they do.

He read the report and he hadn't even asked if you were okay. Maybe it was a selfish thought, but it makes your chest ache. You just wanted to go home, crawl in bed and hold him. However, you knew that wasn't in the cards right now.

“Don’t twist this into something it’s not.”

Your voice finally wavers before him, cracking as you press on, desperate for him to understand—desperate to have him by your side as he has been for so many years.

“You’re casting me aside like I’m... worthless."

It was cruelty, a quiet and deafening insult for him to demote you of your status—but more specifically, your place beside him. That hurt runs deep, to the point that feelings of betrayal start seeping into your veins, poisoning you, antagonizing you. Belittling you. It was a sharp dagger you never expected—searing with a hatred that threatened to cripple you. This wasn’t just about your position. He was a man of unchallenged stature, of the highest status and regard, lowering you, demeaning you with his every word, every action. 

When did things go so wrong?

Yet, even now, you question yourself. Were you being dramatic? Were you taking this too personally? Were you being selfish?

Because he was right. Every word he's said so far was right. You failed. You put them in danger.

You stand there, a hollow feeling growing in your chest. The sting of Satoru’s words cut deeper than any blade you’ve faced. His jaw tightened, his gaze hard as steel and cold as ice. “You gave me what I never asked for.”

“Don't you dare!” You snap, finger trembling as you point his way with an accusatory jab. “Don’t you dare pretend this is nothing.  You know me better than anyone. How could I not take this personally? I’ve done nothing but stand by you, love you, trust you–”

“Like I said, I never asked for any of that,” he utters sharply, his carefully composed exterior shattering. “Whatever we were was nothing more than fucking convenience.” 

Suddenly, he stops, freezing at the onslaught of his own lethal words. His next words seemed to die in his throat. The damage was done. 

Exhausted, defeated, numb. His words hit you like a death blow. “... Convenience?” Echoing the very word that came from his lips—a sound you hardly recognize comes from your mouth, a small slip of the anguish tormenting and swelling in your body escapes. 

The necklace around your neck, the very one he had given you, seemed to pulse against your skin, warm and alive. It carried a piece of him, a piece of you, a guiding hand in the absence of light: a thread, an anchor—a way home. 

Suddenly, you hated it. Hated the way it sat so close to your heart, hated the warmth, his energy; you hated that, even now, his words cutting so deep, unraveling the fabric of your being, it comforted you, reaching for you. 

You yanked it off, the chain snapping in two as you held it in your trembling hands. 

He falters, his whole being frozen. “What are you doing?” he asked, quiet and tense, blanketed in uncertainty. 

“I don’t want it,” you say, voice quivering, threatening to fail you at any moment. His energy—the only energy that blended so perfectly with yours—reached for you, and so did his trembling hands. Reflexively, you flinched away, retreating further into the room and further from him. “Don’t,” you shake your head. “Don’t touch me. Not with your hands, not with your energy. Don’t.”

Silent tears stream down your face. You are unable to look at him, and your breathing is shallow and unsteady. You open your hand, letting the necklace drop to the floor. The faint sound of metal hitting wood echoes in the suffocating silence of the room. 

There’s a soft knock on the door. It creaks, slightly opening. “... Y/n sensei?” came an unsure voice.

You stiffen, and suddenly, you can sense them, three nervous students standing outside your door. Too caught up with Satoru, you had entirely missed them. You clear your throat and dry your cheeks with the back of your hand before turning to the door. You walk over, opening the door wide enough to see them. 

“Sorry if we’re interrupting, but we just wanted to know if you still wanted to come out for dinner with us...” 

Fuck. How much did they hear?

You take a breath, and it’s shakier than you anticipated. “Yeah, sure. That sounds nice. Let me grab my jacket, okay.”

Yuji only offers an unsure smile. Norbora has a hard time even looking at you, while Megumis's eyes are solid and unyielding, glaring right past you. His hands were in his pockets, balled into tight fists.

You don’t know what to do other than quickly turning. Within a few ushered strides, you were at your desk, grabbing your coat off your desk chair; you’re careful to avoid Gojo, who manages to plaster on that big fucking grin. 

“Heard you guys were up to no good while I was away.”

“We were fine,” Megumi interjects before Yuji could open his mouth. “More than fine.” 

“Y–yeah, everything ended up being just fine. Y/n-sensei made sure of that,” Nobora awkwardly adds, shifting her weight on her feet. 

“Ah,” Gojo nods. “Well, make sure you get some rest tonight. We’ve got a long day tomorrow! You guys will be training with the second years!” 

You hated how he could act as if everything was alright while you were fighting back tears. It was another jab, a suckerpunch to the gut. 

You just needed to get out of there. 

-

After dinner with the kids, you headed out on your own the following day. You went home, stuffing some clothes in a bag before spending the night at a cheap motel. Before getting with Satoru, you always floated from place to place, never truly settling. Those days, all you carried on you was your backpack. You didn’t have a home or many possessions you could call your own. You just had yourself.  

I guess old habits die hard. 

Megumi was the first to text you: I went to Gojo's house today and didn’t see you. 

All good! I’ve been busy running errands.

Nobora text you sometime after.

Hey Sensei!! Let me know if you’re available today! Let’s go shopping!

You responded rather quickly. Sorry, I’m not around today. Maybe ask Maki? Or maybe Yuji and Megumi would like to tag along.

But guys suck :(

Then, there was Yuji: Hey, Sensei! Let me know if you want ramen! The gang and I got you since you covered for us the other night! I even got coupons! 

You weren’t sure what to say. You always covered for their meals (no exceptions), but you knew they were just trying to be kind. You double-tapped and hearted the message. 

You appreciated them more than anything, but frankly, it was a bit embarrassing. You never meant for them to overhear you and Satrou that night in your office, and you were never one for pity. If it were anyone else, you would have called them out and told them off. However, you wouldn’t dream of doing that to the kids. They were trying to support you in the only way they knew how, but it wasn’t their responsibility to worry about you. 

Surprisingly, Shoko was the next person to contact you. You never stopped by my office. I’m assuming you’re alright?  

Smiling gently, you responded. Yeah, no injuries to report. 

A building collapsed on you.

You scoff, imagining her deadpan expression. Heavenly restriction, remember?

That doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt. 

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard. Yeesh. Just meet me at the bar you like downtown. 

That’s where you are now, Shoko’s favorite bar, tossing back your third shot. ”Take it easy. I don’t feel like dragging you home tonight.”

“Ah. I’m alright, Shoko.”

“You don’t look it.” 

“Neither do you with those bags under your eyes.”

She brings her drink to her lips, mumbling “touché” before taking a swig. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Vivid memories pressed to the front of your mind of the building collapsing. “Satoru is demoting me. After the elders ripped into me, I found him waiting for me in my office.”

“He– what? Jeez,” she took another sip of sake. “Out of everything, I didn’t expect that.” 

“I– we haven’t been doing too good. I’m not sure if there even is an us after last night.”

“Huh. He did seem a little out of it today.”

“Somehow, I kinda doubt that.” There’s a beat of silence, and you swirl the liquid in your cup. 

“If it means anything, he asked me about you. Asked if you were alright.” 

You smile a bit sardonically.  If Satoru really wanted to find you, you knew he could, as he had the means to do so. From here, you were only about five miles away from his estate. It’s not like you were too for his eyes to see.  Suddenly, that thought bothers you, and you find yourself almost subconsciously concealing your cursed energy.  

“Is that why you texted me?”

She gives you a weird look. “Partially. I had my own concerns.” 

“Like what?”

“If I’m being honest with you, you’re not great at RCT. I wanted to check and make sure everything was alright. It eventually catches up with you if you don’t do it correctly. I’ve seen it cause irreparable damage before.”  

“Ah. I guess that makes sense.”

“You should come to my office tomorrow so I can check–”

“I think I’m gonna quit.”

“…what?”

“I mean, that’s what they really want, right?”

“If you do that, they’ll find the easiest excuse to label you as a traitor. A cursed user.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Since day one, they’ve been trying to paint me as a villain.” 

“So don’t give them what they want,” Shoko bites back. She pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger. “Listen, I can’t stop you. You are going to do what you want to do at the end of the day, but you don’t need to do this. You made a mistake.”

“I’m just tired,” you tell her truthfully. “For months, I’ve been pretending, going through the motions. I've been miserable. Megumi hasn’t wanted me around much. He’s older now, and he doesn’t need me anymore–”

“Of course he does,” Shoko cuts you off. “He’s still a kid.”

“And I’m not his mother,” you retort bitterly. “Then, there’s Satoru. He’s been so distant.  He used to always be in my corner and make everything better, but I don’t even have that now. Now, all of the jujutsu society thinks I’m a liability. He thinks I’m a liability. Maybe it’s why he’s grown to resent me so much.”

“Please. Just stop talking,” Shoko remarks, overwhelmed with how quickly you were talking. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of conversations like these, but at least she listened. “I’m here if you ever need anyone. And please, don’t let this fester. I would rather not lose another friend.” She takes a large gulp this time, finishing her drink before gesturing for a refill. “Tsk. Satoru is complicated—I get it—but he wouldn’t want you to leave. Neither would Megumi. That kid loves you. Maybe you and Gojo just need a break.”

A break? Ha. That was one way of putting it. However, it already felt much more like a breakup, and its permanence frightened you. Like many other things in your relationship, it was never voiced but certainly felt. 

“Yeah,” you say softly, body buzzing as you down your fourth shot. “Maybe you’re right.”

-

You start walking home after having drinks with Shoko. It was a long walk, and you took your time. You weren’t in a rush to head home to potential chaos. The thought of staying at a hotel crossed your mind, but you had nothing to change into. Frankly, it didn’t matter where you went either. It’s not like you’d be able to sleep any better. 

Though, it’s not like you were going back home to anything good. You were suspended without pay; you couldn’t go near the school grounds or exercise any curses—a stipulation you rolled your eyes at. If they thought just a few measly words would stop you from exercising a curse, they would be more idiotic than you thought. 

Still, maybe it’s good to take some time off. Maybe you should stay at the hotel. If you were lucky, they’d have a washer and dryer. 

Then, your phone starts to ring—a unique ringtone that a white-haired idiot assigned to his contact one day after you let him “borrow” your phone. He even changed his contact photo; years later, you never had the heart to change it. 

Your heart aches when you see the contact photo of him, his goofy smile and gorgeous eyes peeking over his black shades. You answered hesitantly after a few rings. 

“Hello?”

“Heyyy,” you hear, his voice light and cheery yet, lacking its usual spark. “Where are you? I know I missed dinner the other night so I picked up your favorite on my way home!” 

Back to normal? Just like that?

You take a breath, reeling in your emotions. It wasn’t normal, per se, but you could tell he was trying, stepping cautiously over the ice he knew could shatter at any moment. 

“I’m not home, right now.”

“Huuuh?” You can hear the slight whine in his voice, and you can imagine him pouting like a small child. You expect him to carry on with his theatrics, but he hesitates. “When do you think you’ll be home then?”

“Uh, I don’t really know,” you trail off, unable to keep up his faux mirth and bravado. 

 “Well, if you don’t want to sleep next to me tonight, I can just take the guest bedroom!” For a moment, he sounds hopeful.

Honestly, he’s just making your head spin. 

“Honestly, I think it’s best if I stay out of the house for a little while, Gojo.”

There’s a beat of silence before you hear his nervous laughter. “Gojo?” he remarks dejectedly. “Can’t remember the last time you called me that.”

You were unsure what to say; you hadn’t even realized you initially referred to him by his last name until he pointed it out. You want to tell him sorry—for everything, but your tongue tenses in your mouth, and your throat threatens to close up. You hated it when he got like this, and typically, you’d do anything to make him smile again. 

But you’re hurt, and he caused that hurt. 

“I wanted to talk to you about the other day,” he adds quickly, unable to withstand your silence. 

“What’s there to talk about?” You ask softly. “What done is done. I messed up.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “You’re right. It can’t be undone now. But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Your stomach drops your heart twists and aches. Was he going to officially end things with you? A bitter, more cruel half of you whispers—you weren’t even officially together to begin with. However, none of that even matters; he has too much of you, too many pieces of your frail heart in the palm of his hands. You were irrevocably his, but was he ever yours? 

Just a few weeks ago, you thought you would have an entirely different answer than the one you have now. You're too afraid to face him or the truth. You were guilt-ridden, your pride and dignity torn to shreds. Hearing that he no longer wishes to be with you would be too much. 

Honestly? 

You’re not sure how you’d react. If you’d sob, if you’d remain stoic, or if you’d flip a table and trash every one of your possessions. You’re at wit's end, and the level of fallout threatening to break free from you was immeasurable. 

So, you finalize what you had been contemplating just five minutes ago. “I think I’m going to stay at a hotel, Gojo. I need space. Time to think.” 

“I don’t want us to go to bed mad at each other,” he says lowly, his voice reverberating through the phone. You shiver. “It doesn’t feel right.”

You hated this. You fucking hated this. 

Your chest tightens, and your knees weaken. You wanted to give in. He always had that power over you. He ruled your heart so effortlessly. You yearned for him, your heart singing a million love songs, beckoning him back to you. 

But you couldn’t. You were too mad. You felt cast aside as if you were nothing but an afterthought—after all these years. Yet again, you feel the foundation of your home cracking, and your knees go weak yet again. You take a shuddering breath right before repeating the exact words he threw at you just a few nights prior—words that so effortlessly dismantled your spirit. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

-   

You’ve always had a habit of running. It was easier for you than most. You figured you’d go back to that cheap motel in Tokyo, but you were too restless. Too angry. Feelings of betrayal ran deep, and the guilt nipped away at you until there was only a void. 

Before you could leave, though, you call a number you knew by heart. Stepping onto the train and holding your phone to your ear, it rings. For a moment, you assume he’s asleep. It was getting late, but after the fifth ring, the line clicked. A groggy voice peaks through. 

“Sensei? What’s going on?”

“Megumi,” you breathe out. “Hi. Sorry to wake you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Nozomi 1, departing from Tokyo and heading to Kyoto, will depart shortly. Please be careful of your footing while boarding. Please refrain from using mobile phone inside the train–“

“You’re leaving?” The tiredness in his voice is replaced by something else you can’t quite place. 

“Only for a short while. It’s not like I’ll be working anytime soon,” you chuckled nervously. “But I just wanted to let you know. It didn’t feel right leaving without speaking to you first.” 

“Oh,” is all he can muster up at first. “I– when will you be back?”

“I’m not sure,” you answer him honestly. “A few days, maybe.” 

“Well… Can we visit you? I’d go alone, but I think Yuji and Nobora would kill me if I did.” 

Oh. You hadn’t expected that. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Um, yeah. When I figure out where I’m staying, I’ll let you know.”

He sounds worried. “You don’t know where you’re staying yet?”

You snicker. “Ha, this is, uh, kinda an impromptu thing.” 

“… and you’re sure alright?”

“Yes, yes, I’m alright. I just wanted to tell you.”

You can tell he’s not exactly satisfied, but he isn’t one to stop you. “Well, text me where you’ll be staying in a few hours. You should probably hang up now, though, and figure it out.”

You smile softly to yourself. He always was a kind boy—kinder than he’d ever reveal. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. Goodnight, Megumi.”

“Night.. I’ll call you later. Be safe.”

When you hang up, you feel a bit better. 

- 

The first night was hard—really hard. Sleeping away from Satoru was incredibly difficult, but so were his sharp words that relentlessly bounced around in your mind.  You found no peace by your window, watching the last of that day's sunlight slipping away behind the horizon, casting long shadows over the dead trees covered in snow.

You could almost feel his presence, like the cast of your shadow on a wall—following you, mirroring your every move. Your phone never rang with his ringtone, your phone never buzzed with a new text. Yet you stared at the shadows for a bit longer, a bit more intensely, waiting for two blue eyes to illuminate the space. They never did. 

Kyoto's stillness seemed to reflect your own, waiting for something to change, waiting for something dead and wilted to bloom once more. 

However, even all the way over in Kyoto, bad luck seems to follow you like the plague. You were walking to a small corner market to grab something to eat when you felt the disturbance in the air—tasted it on your tongue. You hoped that surge of cursed energy wasn’t what you thought it was. You would have loved to be proven wrong, but your instincts were keen like a hound trained to hunt. 

A curse womb opened right above a Kyoto High school. 

You were definitely getting fired after this. 

You knew a cursed object was most likely responsible for this. Considering it happened at a school, you were more than willing to bet a strong cursed object was placed there, most likely intended to ward off any other strong curses that might otherwise appear in the area. You assumed the seal broke, probably after hundreds of years of suppressing the power of the object. You’ve dealt with a case like that before.

You couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Three stupid students—ghost hunting of all things—removed the seal. The decorated white cloth tightly wrapped around a black skull was torn, and its viscous cursed energy soared, tinting the sky black. 

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you hissed under your breath when you slammed open the classroom door. “This way, c’mon!” You didn’t have to tell them twice. Book it, and you stay by their side for as long as you can. You had to put up your veil, but only after they were far enough. 

You got impatient, however, especially towards the kid who had been recording everything up until now, where you crushed his phone in your hand. 

“Wha– hey! You're gonna pay for that!”

“What the hell is more important? Recording or your fucking lives? Shut up and run!” 

The air suddenly cracks with a tension that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It’s here. You could feel it—the dark, oppressive presence creeping across the courtyard, lurking. You yourself could see it with your eyes, but you felt it. 

Your senses were better than most. It was partially why you and Yuji got along and trained together so well. You were just like him when you were younger. Granted, he wasn’t born with cursed energy like you were, but your heavenly restrictions were nearly identical. 

You stop running when you reach the edge of the courtyard, but those three kids carry on in a scram. Holding the cursed object in your hands, you raise the skull in the air. It takes a considerable amount of force, but you crush the skull, black dust coating your hand. There’s a hollow screech, and you hope that’s the end of it. 

Of course, your bad luck persists. 

Typically, destroying the cursed object that’s created a cursed womb kills it or at least nullifies it. The exception is when the curse is an S-grade; those wombs are damn near impenetrable. 

Destroying the object seemed only to irritate the curse as it began crawling out of a bloody sac. 

You hold up your fist, index, and pointer finger together, pointing to the sky along with your thumb. A crimson veil pours down, covering the entirety of the school. However, you sense three others within your veil just as you seal off the area. 

“Yo, Y/n sensei!! What the hell are you doing here, loca!” A deep laugh echoes across the courtyard. 

Christ. You knew that voice from anywhere. 

You glance over your shoulder and see a few unexpected faces. Utahime and two other students—Miwa and Todo who looks way happier than he should be, considering the circumstances. 

The newly born curse loomed menacingly overhead, its red eyes gleaming like coals in a dying fire. It was tall, with protruding joints that snapped into place. Its black and sleek hair extended beyond its long, contorted body. Its face was painted white and cracked as if crafted of aged porcelain. Its kimono was white, stained with splashes of red and black goo. You stood firmly in place, fire crackling at your fingertips, your breath steady but sharp in the cold night air. Todo and Miwa joined your side quickly, and Utahime offered you a firm nod from the sidelines. She was entrusting you with her students.  

Quickly, the courtyard became a battlefield, filled with the crackle of burning energy and the hum of raw power. 

The curse lunged, zipping through the air. You were faster, your body twisting and moving with fluid grace. You raised your hand to strike, a jet of flame bursting forward, crackling against the air. The curse shrieked as the fire seared its back, black smoke rising from its melted skin. 

It recovered too quickly for your liking. It rolled through the flames like water through a sieve, reforming and lunging again, its claws gleaming.

Your senses were on fire—every shift in the air, every sound, every movement was magnified. You could hear the heartbeat of the curse, the faintest tremor of its form as it coiled to strike. You could smell the thick, sour scent of decay that clung to it like an ancient smog. And you could feel it—the deep, heavy weight of power pressing down on you, making your muscles tighten and strain against the oncoming attack.

The curse moved to strike again, but you were already there, rolling beneath it, body twisting in a perfect arc, and feet hitting the ground in a spring-loaded motion that sent you leaping upward. Your fist, wreathed in fire, crashed into the creature’s chest.

The explosion of heat sent the curse reeling, but it was only a momentary distraction. It retaliated, slashing the air with a massive, clawed hand. Three energized strikes were headed your way. You reacted with seconds to spare, but Miwa stood directly in the line of fire. You knew her simple domain wouldn’t be summoned fast enough, but she didn’t. It would be a miscalculation that ended her life. 

The claws tore through your side, then whipped down in a sickening arc, ripping clean through your arm. The pain came in an instant—a blinding, searing agony that burned through your body. You didn't even have time to scream.

You staggered back, a cry escaping Miwa’s lips as she looked at the bloody stump where your arm used to be. Blood poured and squirted from the wound, but there was no time for that. 

"Get back!" you shouted to the blue-haired girl, voice raw. She wasn’t nearly ready for this; Utahime gravity overestimated her abilities or underestimated the cursed strength. Regardless, the girl was too distraught to do anything at this moment. 

There’s a rush, and you suddenly realize you are outside the heat of battle. Todo went in, guns blazing, but you could only waste so much time. Todo was strong, way above his current ranking, in your opinion, but it was only a matter of time before that curse cut him down, too. 

Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees. The pain was overwhelming, but you focused, drawing from the reserves settled deep within your core. Your energy surged, and tendrils of fire spiraled around the wound, filling the air with intense heat. 

“Sensei! Are you alri–" Miwa gasped, her feet coming to a haunt as she watched in awe and terror as your arm began to regenerate—pulsing with energy. The flesh knitted itself together, bone and sinew reforming in a frenzy. 

But the process wasn't easy and certainly didn’t come without a price to pay. Your body screamed, the regeneration draining your reserves. You were already weakened, and the battle had just begun. Tsk. 

Todo found his way back over to you two, panting heavily. “How are you doing over there, Sensei?”

"Clap," you say, voice strained. "Now." He looked at you, bug-eyed, but he nodded. He didn't hesitate. 

He brought his hands together in a sharp clap, and everything shifted. “Alright! Let’s dance!”

In an instant, you found yourself on the other side of the curse. You inhaled deeply, heart pounding, immediately launching yourself back into the fight.

The curse roared in confusion, disoriented, but it was too late. You were already in motion. Your feet hit the ground in a fluid motion, and with a vicious snap of your wrist, fire erupted once again. This time, it formed into a massive whip of flame that lashed through the air.

The curse hissed as the whip wrapped around its neck, and you pulled with your whole body. Never losing your grip, muscles straining, you move forward, wrapping the flames over your arm again and again, pulling tighter and tighter until you smelt the pungent odor of the burning flesh around its neck. You wrapped the whip around your arm one last time before turning your body and pulling the whip from over your shoulder, viscously yanking and slamming the curse to the ground and into submission. 

The curse struggled, its body writhing, but it was weakened. Miwa went for the opening, summoning her New Shadow Style: Simple domain. She’s gotten better since the tournament, and you acknowledge with a grave chuckle as she instantly draws her blade, slicing the curse directly across its chest cavity. She cost you an arm, but deep down, you knew she had the conviction to win and succeed. 

Todo doesn’t wait. Another clap. Another shift. You and Todo swapped places with the curse itself this time, and the curse had no time to react. He goes for a punch, cracking the curse with a quick jab, followed by a right hook. He claps again. The moment the curse materialized in front of you, disoriented, you surged forward, throwing everything you had left into one final strike.

It twisted in anguish, its body crumbling to the ground before its remains turned into ash.

Then, there was nothing.

The air grew still. The ground beneath you is scorched but calm. You sucked your teeth, silently berating yourself. 

You hated using your technique. Frankly, you opted not to unless you absolutely needed to, which was the main reason why people hardly knew about it. It wreaked havoc, leaving nothing but indomitable infernos that refused to be quenched like normal flames. They left nothing destruction in their wake—hungry to consume and spread. However, you’ve gotten better at controlling it—you’ll give yourself that. The only thing burned here today was the grass in the courtyard. 

You stood there for a moment, panting, your body trembling with exhaustion as you collapsed to the ground, panting heavily. “Y–you did it!” Miwa cheered. “I had no idea you knew RCT. Thank you for helping me back there.”

“What the– Miwa, we won! Show some conviction!” Todo cut in, flexing his biceps. 

“He’s right,” you managed a weak smile as you worked on catching your breath and easing your fast-beating heart. You collapse to the ground, still gaining your breath. "We did it."

You hear footsteps approaching from behind. Tilting your head, you see Utahime standing directly above you. 

“Oh. Hi ‘hime.” 

She smiles a bit, but her face remains hardened. You straighten up a bit, catching on to her attitude. Something wasn’t right. 

“You guys did a good job. However, another problem has arisen across the city.” 

“Huh? Another one?” Miwa asked, brows tugging inward. She shifts her weight from one hip to the other. “That's like the fifth one today...”

They continue on in their conversation as you drop your veil, sniff the air, and concentrate on your surroundings. A sense of foreboding strikes you under the dark ambiance of the sky. Even after killing that S-grade, things don’t feel right. 

“Thanks for joining us,” Utahime says, drawing back your attention. “I nearly had to call for backup.”

You scoff, glancing up at her from the ground. “Something doesn't feel right, Utahime.” She nods, agreeing with your observation. “When did the reports come flooding in?”

“About an hour ago now.”

“Hm,” you wonder, thinking back to when you first found the cursed womb. “That’s about the same time I first sensed the presence of the cursed womb. They’re most likely connected.”

“That's what I thought. The presence of the cursed womb must have irritated some of the curses in the city, most likely because they were drawn to the energy fluctuations the cursed womb caused. It's good you were here. We're stretched thin right now. If you don’t mind staying, we could use your help. The other students are out on missions across the city, and things just keep getting worse.” 

You smile up at her before pushing yourself back up on your two feet, brushing the dirt from your pants. “Sure, let’s get going–” but as you stand, it feels as if a bolt of lightning strikes you down or as if your chest has been cracked open by a sledgehammer. The agony was too great to even scream as you fell to your knees and crashed back into the ground. 

It was lights out. 

-

It was quiet. Dark—a vast, unending expanse of nothingness that swallowed you whole. An endless drift. It would have almost been peaceful if not for the faint pull at the edges of your awareness, like an anchor trying to tether to something you couldn’t see. 

But then came the first sound. 

You heard voices—muffled cries. Please wake up, said one voice. Please stay with me, came another. 

Pain began to throb somewhere in the background, dull and distant. Disembodied as if it belonged to someone else. 

Don’t you dare leave me. The voice was sharp, demanding, cracking under the weight of fear. You knew that voice and remembered all the sweet things it used to whisper to you. Your heart takes a painful lurch. You can hear its occasional beat in your ears. We need you. I need you. 

Oddly, you were cold.

You were drifting again, further and further. The anchor was slipping. You were sinking, your head hardly above water, when another muffled voice broke through—whimpering, sobbing. Your heart lurches painfully.

Mom, please don’t go.

The words pierce through the nothingness, shattering it all to bits and pieces. The words pull at you, a lifeline you hadn’t known you clung to and needed. Images begin to flash, and suddenly, the voices are no longer just voices. Your heart suddenly burns as though the memory of life itself is fighting its way back into you. 

Your eyelids were heavy, limbs weak, unresponsive—cold. You were so cold, but it wasn’t enough to stop you from crawling out of a black pit that threatened to swallow you whole. There’s a faint sensation of pressure, a hand tightly gripping yours. 

Light begins bleeding into the edges of your awareness. You sucked in a deep breath, lungs empty and greedy. 

Then, your eyes fluttered open.  

You blinked a few times, realizing how hard it was to breathe. Breathing was supposed to be an automatic response, but you had to force it, each breath dragging along the back of your throat like sandpaper. You’re weak and shivering as you use most of your energy to sit up. You were in an empty room, you realized—the sharp smell of sanitizer permeating your nose. 

You push yourself out of bed, knees buckling under your weight. You catch yourself, gathering whatever bits of strength you have left. Your teeth clattered. You were freezing. Shaking, you wrapped the white blanket over your shoulders, gripping it tight before you trudged towards the door.

The hall was mostly empty, all except for a sleeping boy slouched over in a chair beside your door. Your heart squeezes. 

“Megumi,” you whispered his name. You stare at him for a moment, unable to bite back the tears that nip at your dry eyes. 

You wrapped the blanket around him, tucking it gently around him. However, he flinches, jumping straight up in his chair. “S-Sorry,” you tell him quickly with a watery smile. “You looked cold.” 

“You…��� the word was a raw and weak whisper. His eyes widened. It took a moment for recognition to settle in, but once it did, he spoke again. “You’re awake.” He stood up from his chair, and you stepped back, offering him space. “You’re awake,” he repeated again. 

Then, you start to wonder just how long you’ve been out of it. Days? Weeks? The thought of months terrifies you, but before you can even go down that loophole, he’s hugging you tightly. “You’re awake,” he says once more, his voice breaking. 

However long it was, he’s right. You’re awake. You’re here, living and breathing. You wrap your arms around his torso, patting and rubbing his back soothingly. “Yup… I’m here. I’m awake.” 

You let him be the one to pull away, letting him take however long he needs. You enjoyed it regardless. You couldn’t remember the last time you hugged him. 

When he pulls away, his eyes are red. He sniffs a bit, backing up and taking the blanket off his shoulders. This time, he’s the one wrapping the fabric around you. He’s frowning a bit as he does. “... you’re the one that’s cold,” he notes quietly. 

“What happened?”

“You don’t remember?” He asks softly, brows furrowing. 

You shook your head. No. Frankly, you didn’t remember much of anything right now. “I was on my way with Yuji and Nobora. We got on the train after you let me know where you were staying.” That’s right. You texted Megumi when you figured out where you’d be staying. You thought they’d come over sometime in the following days. You had no idea they were rushing to see you on the next available train. 

He places his hands awkwardly on your shoulder before gently guiding you to the chair he was sitting in moments ago. As you go to sit, your body seems to forget how to move for a moment, and you lose your balance. He catches you quickly, carefully helping you down into the chair. “When we got to Kyoto, we realized quickly how bad things were over there.   We started helping out at the Kyoto school, dealing with the curses that had been lingering in the area where the cursed womb opened up. Eventually, we ran into Todo and Miwa. They told us what happened.” He grunts, kneeling down so he’s at eye level with you. 

You’re silent for a moment. “How long was I out for?”

“Pushing four days now.” 

The memories strike you like a fright train. “Are you okay? Is everyone alright?” You hadn’t realized you had reached for his cheek. 

He grabs your wrist, thumb gently caressing the back of your hand before pulling your hand away, guiding it back to your lap. He moves the blanket until it's covering you again.  “We’re all fine. Everything’s been dealt with. Yuji and Nobora went down to the cafe to grab some lunch. They’ll be thrilled when they come back.”

You tilt your head. “Why didn’t you go with them?”

He smiles a bit. “I didn’t want to leave you unattended.”

You don’t know what to think. You’re just happy you’re back. Happy because he was happy. You always hated it when he worried about you. You never believed it was his job to do so. However, he stayed by your side and protected you when you couldn’t protect yourself. 

You wiggle your toes and roll your shoulders before standing again. “You shouldn’t be standing–”

“I’m alright, I promise,” you tell him, dismissing his concern. “I just want to walk around, okay?”

He stares at you intently, unsure, but he seems to have no energy to argue with you. “... alright,” he relents. 

He follows you closely as you drag your feet across the floor. You don’t know where you are walking, but you want to stretch your legs and regain a sense of your body. You are weak, but you need to move. 

You ask the question you were too hesitant to ask: “What about Gojo?”

He huffs. “He left a little while ago. Said he’d be back shortly,” he scoffs. “Bullshit if you ask me.”

“Megumi,” you sigh his name with a soft reprimand. 

“He should be here,” he responds disgruntledly. “He should be by your side, and he’s not."

You stay quiet. You’re not exactly sure what to say to him when you agree. Maybe Gojo was done. Whatever this was, whatever relationship you had—maybe he didn’t want you anymore. You look ahead, fighting your own body that threatened to collapse at any moment. You could feel Megumi’s eyes on you, but you didn’t have the heart to look at him right now.

You were afraid you would sob if you did. 

Though you had never walked these halls before, the hospital's layout was quite easy to catch on to. After taking a fourth right turn, you see your room in the distance. A stubborn part of you says to keep going and keep walking, but the exhaustion is catching up to you quickly. If Megumi hadn’t been by your side, cautious eyes scanning you, you might have kept going until you passed out. You realize that the strength you had was nearly depleted. Only trickles of your cursed energy remained, and it would be a long while before you gained it back. 

You hear footsteps behind you. Quick and ushered. Megumi turns before you, his whole frame tensing.  He sucks his teeth and clicks his tongue. “So he finally shows up.” He speaks in a sardonic tone, loud enough for anyone in the hallways to hear.

Satoru comes running from around the corner then, taking deep breaths. Your brows slightly pinch together in confusion. “S–Satoru,” you stutter, walking closer. “When did you get here?”  He looks disheveled. Alarmed. Was he just running? 

It was hard trying to figure out what he was feeling or experiencing when that black eyeband covered his eyes. However, you noticed the bouquet in his hands, a delicate combination of soft and tender hues: pale pink and roses, white peonies, deep pink lilies, and baby’s breath delicately wrapped along sprigs of greenery. 

You place a hand on Megumi’s shoulder. “Why don’t you go eat with the others?”

“But–”

“I’ll be alright,” you explain to him in a soft tone.

He hesitates, torn between staying and leaving.  He was unsure if he should leave you to handle this alone, but after a moment, he backed down, probably realizing he shouldn’t stand between the two of you and what needed to happen. With an irate glance shot at Gojo, he turns, pocketing his hands as he makes his way to the stairs. 

Only when the door shuts do you look at Satoru again. 

He stays unusually quiet, his face unreadable. Frankly, it was rather unsettling. You had no idea what was going through his mind. “I–I’m sorry!” you blurt out the first words that crash to the surface of your mind the moment you see him in his entirety. There was no hope of holding back. After days spent away from him, lost in his absence, and days dancing on the edge of death, the words tumble out of you before you can stop them—unbidden, unstoppable. “For everything. Y–You must have been stressed with work and other things. My fuck up only added to your plate. I get it, ya know? It's selfish of me, even now, to rely on you so much when there’s a whole world that needs you. They are not my students, and I put them in danger.” Quickly, the tears gather in your waterline again, but you blink them away. “I–I’ll be leaving soon. I’ll… I’ll go. I’ll get out of your way, and you won’t have to deal with me bothering you any longer–”

“Can I touch you?” The question comes suddenly, softly, and almost hesitantly. 

You blink a few times, puzzled, but then, you unravel, folding inward under the weight of his voice. Your breath hitches in your throat. Was he still holding onto what you had said that night? Was he haunted by the barriers broken and the others so carelessly assembled? 

He still wanted you? 

You didn’t want him to let you go. Not yet. Not ever.

Like a dam breaking, you surged forward, closing the space between you two. Seconds later, you feel his resolve crumble. He crushes you to his chest, flowers falling to the floor. His arms enveloped you with a force that robbed you of breath, your feet nearly coming off the ground as you both stumble backward. Trembling, he clung to you as if you were an anchor in a world that threatened to tear him apart. There were no words—the unspoken agony and grief were far too overwhelming to put into words—if there even were words for it. 

I’m sorry. I love you. I’m glad you’re okay.  You felt it all with him. You could feel the pounding of his heart against your chest, hear its frantic rhythm match your own.

His hands were shaking, one tangling in your hair, the other wrapping entirely around your frame and squeezing your hip. He buries his face into your neck, and his hot breath is ragged and uneven as he inhales your scent. “I thought–” he swallows, shaking his head. “I didn’t know where you were—for a second time.”

Your cursed energy was low, more depleted than it had ever been. It explains why you were so weak, so frail. When he saw your empty bed, he must’ve panicked. He ran to you, anxiously following the weak traces of your presence. 

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and the familiar silk of his eyeband rubs against your skin. You gently tug at the fabric with the tips of your fingers. His breath hitches, but he doesn't pull away. Instead, he stills as you slip the black band from his face. He lifts his head just enough to rest it against yours. They were that same stunning shade of azure—bright and impossibly vivid, glowing softly as if they carried the remnants of a forgotten star. Captivating, otherworldly, yet achingly human—something he’d often forget from time to time. 

“You promised,” he murmurs, voice broken. “You promised.”  

“What are you talking about?” you ask just as brokenly. 

Suddenly, one of his hands grasps your neck, and you choke on your words. He doesn’t squeeze tight, but the look on his face is enough to make you gasp. “I couldn’t feel you. I couldn’t feel you anymore,” he says achingly. 

Your chest tightens, nails slightly digging into his forearm. You open your mouth to speak, failing more times than succeeding. You wanted to speak, but the words lodged in your mouth. 

“I–I don’t understand.”

“You’re not wearing it anymore,” he murmurs, his nose brushing softly against your cheek. The necklace you always wore—his gift to you, the one that held a part of him, a part of the two of you—was gone. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach, an absence that gnawed at him like hunger, an emptiness he could never satisfy. 

His voice wasn’t angry, far from it. It wasn’t even harsh, but something in it—a quiet desperation—made the air between the two of you quiver. 

“You promised you’d never go where I couldn’t follow,” he whispers again. “Remember?” 

You nod in his hold, tightly pursing your lips together when a few tears escape, dripping from your eyes.  He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours again, gazing deep and unwavering into your eyes. I remember. His grip on your neck loosens until he removes his hand from your throat completely, gentle fingers pushing down your shirt's fabric. His fingers trace your skin, the empty spot where your necklace once laid. 

Then, it suddenly hits you. “Oh.”  

He could feel you as much as you felt him. If you were ever too far from him—out of the range of his sight, out from where his hands could reach for you, that necklace was a beacon, a beckoning, a lighthouse in the storm that guided you home—guided him home. 

You squeeze him tighter. You missed him. You really missed him. 

“How did you find me?” 

He takes a moment to breathe, trying to settle the rapid beat of his heart. “Utahime.” He wheezes out a pained laugh. “She called me panicking once you collapsed. I got there as quickly as I could.”  

You copy his laugh, albeit coughing a bit from the pain blooming in your ribs. You hated to admit it, but the longer you stood, the more your body began to hurt. “I should just heal myself and get this over with.”

“Don’t,” his grip tightens on you again. “you’re using it wrong. There’s damage, lots of it,” he tells you, wiping at the blood that had stained your skin at the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “Any more and–” his eyebrows furrowed deeply, the weight of grief and guilt tugging his features. The corner of his lips tightened. “Shoko operated on you for hours. You nearly died.”

He sees what others cannot, his gaze piercing the surface to something deeper, something raw. He sees the world through an entirely different lens, and right now, the sight of you seems to pain him dearly. 

For a moment, you wonder just how much damage is hidden within you and how much it must weigh on him to see it. “Shoko might have gotten you out of the woods, but she told me you’d need a few more rounds to get you back to normal.”

“That makes sense,” you murmur, allowing your entire body weight to ease into him. He accepts you with open arms. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Or twenty.”

“I missed it,” he utters, voice thick with regret. “If I had just looked a bit closer, we wouldn’t be in this mess. I fucked up. I could’ve prevented this.” His careful grip on you tightens as if you’d slip away from him once more.  “But,” his tone softens. “You did so well. You took care of that cursed womb before I could even get to the scene.” Even through his pain and wallowing, his heart swells. He was proud of you. 

He bends down, grabbing the flowers he dropped before moving towards you again. “Oh gosh,” you hide your face into his neck as he reaches down, one arm hooking under your legs as he lifts you. You don’t hesitate, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m definitely fired, aren’t I?” 

He carefully guides you back into your room. He manages to toss your flowers on the counter by the window. “Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll handle it. ‘Kay?” He places you down on your bed, but he hesitates, not wanting to fully pull away. 

Your eyes flicker, recalling the night of your augment. You knew this was the reason behind his haunted expression. You recognized the torment because you, too, had felt it. “You’re mad,” he observes relatively quickly.

You didn’t want to bring it up. You weren't necessarily mad, not anymore, but even near death couldn’t make you forget the pain he had caused with words he so carelessly struck you down with. 

“What you said… Hurt me, Gojo,” you look down at your hands, feeling selfish for even bringing this up after nearly dying. However, you knew this conversation was inevitable.  “Even if you were right I felt cast aside. Useless. Why didn't you tell me you felt that way before?”

“No… don’t say that. I was being stupid. I over reacted. I know you'd always protect those kids and that's exactly what you did. You’re not weak or a nuisance, or... convenient.” you flinch at the word. “You’re far from that. I need you to know that.”

“...Then what am I?”

“Everything,” he shudders. “You’re everything.” His lips brush over your forehead, your cheeks, and eyelids, each kiss tender and lingering. But then he pauses, his smooth lips hovering just above yours. He’s always been so confident, so self-assured. You’re unsure how to react.

You were sitting on your bed, feet dangling just above the floor. He is leaning over you, one large and warm hand on your thigh, the other cupping your face gently. He was close, but not close enough. Even bent at the waist, his height keeps him just out of your reach unless he leans back down just a bit more…

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, giving him all the assurance you have to offer.

You were hurt, but you still wanted him.

You still loved him. 

His mouth was warm and soft—testing the waters and treading carefully. His grip on your thigh tightens until– 

He lets go. You feel the tension in his body dissipate, and finally, he allows himself to fully enjoy you—taste you. The kiss deepens, and you swear it brought life back into your frail body. He overwhelms you now in the most delicious way possible. Your toes curl, and your tight embrace eases. Your arms go weak, your hands moving to run down his chest, his taut muscles quivering in the wake of your touch.  Every moment was a promise, every brush of skin a new vow. No words were spoken, but you both heard everything that had been held back, everything that had been left unsaid. 

I’m sorry.

I love you. 

I love you.

I love you. 

He smiles against your lips, but you don’t stop or pull away, catching and nipping at his bottom lip. Then, you kiss him again, slotting his top lip between yours. “You really love me, huh? Hehe.”

Oh. You hadn’t realized you said it—whimpered murmurs against his lips. No wonder why he looked all dopey and smiley. 

“You’re not going to make me grovel for forgiveness?” He pecks your lips again. “This seems too easy. I know you’re still mad.”

You chase after his lips. “Of course, I’m still mad,” you mutter against him. “But I thought I would never see you again.” Even as he frowns, you pepper his lips with kisses. “Plus, it's not like you to grovel.”

“I would for. Only for you, of course.”

You giggle, nipping his lip a little harder. “Yeah,” you rolled your eyes. “I’d like to see that.”

Oh no. You’ve made a grave mistake. You knew you messed up again the second the words fell from your lips. There’s a glint in his eyes now. 

“Oh, my beautiful, angelic Queen! I know I have displeased you. Please accept my humble apologies!” You squeak at the suddenness of his actions. He sinks to his knees dramatically, and his palms meet the dirty floor, and so does his forehead. “I am at your mercy! I have failed you greatly, and I wish to make amends.”

You swat him on the back of his head, but it's not nearly enough to hurt him or deter him from whatever this is. “Gojo! Don’t bow like that! Get up!”

“But I can’t!” He whines. “You must forgive me! I will spend eternity on my knees if it means I can regain your favor, my perfect, beautiful, divine Queen. You alone rule this sinners heart!”  He inches forward on his knees, squeezing himself between your legs. His hands find homage on your waist as he nudges his face into your stomach.

Your eyes roll skyward. “Only you could apologize and insult me at the same time, Satoru,” you grumble, looking down at him before running your fingers through white stands. 

Suddenly, he looks up from this position, resting his chin right beneath your ribs, grinning ear to ear. “You called me Satoru~”

You feel your face flush, heat gushing to your cheeks and ears. “Shut up. You’re such an idiot. Can you get up now?”

“Nah,” he says lazily, burying his head into your stomach again. His voice comes out muffled. “I’m trying to make amends with my Queen. Let me, will ya?”

You ease, realizing you won't be able to stop him from doing what he wants. Even if it was a bit theatrical, he was doing his best—you know that because you know him. You let your nails gently graze his scalp as you continued to pat him. He hums, almost purrs, as your other hand finds his shoulder, squeezing him gently before running your fingers under his shirt, caressing his skull and the taut muscles in his back. A beat of silence passes, but you find yourself uncaring.

You had him back in your arms. That’s all that really mattered to you right now.

“Look, I know… I know I messed up,” he begins, voice so low, you nearly miss it. “I’m not great at this—saying the right things. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was stressed. I was fed up with the higher-ups and fed up with my missions, but that’s no excuse. If I could take it all back, I would in a heartbeat. You deserve better than what I was giving you. I’m gonna try to be better… for you. For us.”  His words hang in the air a bit awkwardly, but you can see the sincerity in his eyes and hear it in his voice. It couldn’t be missed. He shifts a bit, moving to kiss your belly. Then, his large hand wrap around yours, guiding your hand closer to his lips. He kisses the back of your knuckles tenderly as if the act of his apology could never be enough.

“You want me to stay?”

He squeezes you tighter. “Of course I do. What would I be without you?”

“Hm. You’d still be Gojo Satoru. Even without me.” 

“I don’t want to imagine a life without you,” he mutters. “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow. I've already told you that…”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper sweetly, patting his head. He nudges his head further into you. “The world will always need you.”

“I will always need you. So please… stop talking like this.” He pinches your side, making you squeak. Finally he looks up, an unimpressed expression gracing his features. “And don’t ever leave the city to get away from me. When you told me you were going to a hotel, I thought you meant in Tokyo.”

You chuckle nervously, looking elsewhere. “Yeah… Sorry about that.” 

“Next time, take a walk or something. I dunno, go touch some grass if you get tired of me.”

A small smile escaped you, followed by a quiet laugh that shook your shoulders. You pat his back three times before kneading him softly. “Okay, humble peasant. You've groveled for long enough. Now lay with me,” you demand him. “I want you to lay with me. I’m so tired.”

“Psh. I’d hardly fit on this bed.”

“Whatever,” you tell him, scooting over. “I’ll make room. Get in, string bean.”

He grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

 It’s a bit awkward at first with his lanky form, but he makes it work. It was a tight fit, and his feet slightly dangled off the bed, but he made no objections. With your back to his chest, he held you against him securely.

“You’re cold,” he observes out loud when you start playing with his fingers. It’s a bitter realization, a deafening one on his part. You know it bothers him, especially as he wraps the blanket around you tighter.

He tries not to let it show. However, he quickly becomes restless and you know he isn’t sated. He begins to move. “Let me go get you another blanket.”

“Nooo. Stay here.”

“Huh? But you’re freezing! And you’re never cold!”

“I’m already warming up!” You intervene with a small giggle, tugging him by his jacket. “Just shut up and lay with me, already.” He hesitates before unbuttoning his black jacket. When he was determined, there wasn’t any stopping a man like him, and right now, he was determined to get you warm.

He lays his jacket over you, spreading the fabric out, smoothing away all the wrinkles, and making sure you're covered. It might as well be a blanket with how long it was over you. Bonus points because it still carried him warmth and smelled like his cologne. A blend of earth and wood with a hint of something darker—smokey and smooth. You always loved the scent. Whenever he walked by, it brushed past you like a gentle breeze over still water, warm and inviting, with subtle notes of leather, musk, and vanilla. 

He grunts a bit before easing into the bed again. “My little icicle- ow,” you shot your elbow back, getting him right in the ribs. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” He chuckles, before wrapping his arms over you one more. He brushes your hair from your neck, his breath fanning against your skin. He kisses you there once, twice, three times before saying something familiar. 

“I could sense when you left Tokyo. I didn’t know what to do. Even with my eyes, I couldn’t find you. You were just gone. Don’t ever go where I can’t follow." He kisses your neck. "Please.”

You turn around, searching for his lips. He melts into you once again, squeezing your side sweetly. “I promise,” you murmur. “Wherever you go, that’s where I’ll follow,” you say, voicing back the same promise he made you. He smiles faintly against your lips.  

When you woke up the next morning, your necklace was there. It was back where it belonged, sapphires resting gently over your steady beating heart—carrying Satoru’s silent promise.

Wherever you go, that’s where I follow. 

-

a/n: I honestly don't know how I feel about this but if you made it to the end I hope the nearly 18k was worth reading. If you couldn't tell its based off the song Die With A Smile. Honestly, I think I might have been happier by making this a bit longer and flushing out some of the scenes more, but I was trying new things and I was excited to post my first jjk post :) however its getting late now but if there's any typos or errors I notice later I'll edit as needed.

anyways, if you'd like to see more gojo x sorcerer!reader let me know! also I really hoped you liked the bits I added with Megumi (he's just a smol bean).

likes and reblogs are always appreciated! :p

[yutarot]

ride or die. l.jn smau

018 — for her, i am.

(a/n: u might wanna grab some popcorn for this one.)

JENO POV

“i know who leaked my secret.”

he had said it so quickly that he forgot the words had even come from his mouth.

jaemin stares at him, eyes wide in a mix of shock and weirdly, sadness.

but then jeno realises why. he had let jaemin be bullied, staying silent as all of his friends attacked him. he had done nothing.

jaemin didn’t care that jeno knew who it was, he didn’t care who had ruined jeno’s life, because jeno had ruined his. he thought that jeno thought it was him, he had assumed that’s why jeno did nothing, out of hatred, out of anger. but now, now it made no sense. jeno was meant to be his bestfriend.

jeno became angry at the thought. not at jaemin, but at himself. and he hadn’t even explained to him the whole story yet, he hadn’t even told him who it was.

jaemin spoke first after their silence.

“you better start explaining.” jaemin says, and rightfully so. jeno feels as if he should had done the explaining a while ago, he wanted to. but it all happened too quick. he never got the chance.

he doesn’t know why, but he feels like jaemin and him aren’t going to be the same after this. not after what he’s about to tell him.

jaemin grows inpatient, angry even.

“come on, jeno, im not gonna sit here and wait for the fucking grass to grow!!”

jeno says nothing still, and this only makes jaemin’s anger worsen. but he just doesn’t know what to say, how to word the sentence that will ruin their friendship.

“WHO WAS IT JENO?” jaemins grabbing his shirt at this point, and there’s nothing he can do but close his eyes and take it. “WHO WAS IT YOU HAD TO PROTECT SO MUCH TO THE POINT WHERE YOU HAD TO LET ME GET PUSHED AROUND, HUH? WHO SPILLED YOUR FUCKING SECRET, WHO DID YOU FEEL WAS SO SPECIAL TO YOU THAT YOU COULDNT SAY ANYTHING TO ANYONE?!! WHO WAS IT, JENO?! WHO W-“

jeno’s heart races. his fists clench. his arms tense.

he snaps.

“IT WAS ME!”

jaemin stills.

he lets go of jeno’s shirt.

his eyes never divert from his, his last breath never leaving. they both stand in the apartment lobby, the cold air of outside, breezing through the window, half cracked open, the distant buzz of the vending machine whirring in the corner and the deep hue of the midnight sky absorbing the light from around them.

they’re silent, they’re still.

neither of them dare to speak.

until jeno notices jaemins face.

it’s not anger, it’s not sadness. it’s pity.

“it was me.” jeno’s voice is lower now. “i leaked my own identity.” he looks at the floor, in both solemnity and shame.

“why?” jaemin asks. “why would you do that to yourself?”

“i didn’t know it would spread so fast. i posted it on an anonymous account before my race. i wasn’t expecting it to be spread so quick, let alone on national news. i thought it would be slow, i was going to tell you, i was going to tell everyone. i had decided i didn’t want to be samo anymore. but the speed of it all… i wasn’t ready yet, i hadn’t prepared yet, i hadn’t told her.”

jaemin stills at the mention of you.

“so that’s why.”

jeno nods.

“you’re an idiot.” jaemin says, throwing jeno’s words back at him.

but jeno isn’t laughing.

“for her, i am.”

that’s where he realises the gravity of it all. that both of their deception had all come down to the route of one thing, of one person.

you.

jeno continues. “do you know what she told me when we first got into that fake relationship?”

jaemin shakes his head.

“she told me that she didn’t understand why i liked living as samo more than jeno. and usually, i did. i loved living as samo, it was the only time that i was able to really be myself. but when she came along, i realised something. i realised that i didn’t want to be samo anymore, i wanted to be the person that she knew. technically, she knew samo, yes. but it was me, as jeno, that she truly knew. and when she told me that i should just live as jeno, avoid all the public attention and just go outside without a mask, i realised that she was right, that that’s who i wanted to be. i wanted to be me, because of her. so when she told chenle who i was, i should have been mad, i should have been pissed. but, truly? i was relieved. she had done the first step of my journey herself, i could break off the deal. i could explain that i didn’t care about it anymore. i could explain that i wanted to date her for real. but i didn’t do any of that. i was still angry, i was angry at the reason why she had told chenle. he ruined it all. i couldn’t explain it to her, what i really wanted. because she liked him. and it only confirmed my suspicions when i found that stupid fuckers hoodi-“

jeno realised he had be talking for too long when jaemin began to smile.

“oh man i’ve been waiting for you to say that for the longest time, that you want to be yourself.” he pulls him into a brief hug as he speaks, as if he hadn’t even heard the second half of jeno’s rant.

after a second, jaemin pulls away before stating the obvious truth of what’s staring them both in the face, “if only it wasn’t because of her.”

reality dawns on him, pushing on him like an incoming storm. “im sorry jaemin, but ive made up my mind.”

jaemin nods, expecting jeno to say more. but he doesn’t, he just walks to the elevator, clicking the floor to their dorm. jeno hopes that jaemin forgets all about you, that he puts his feelings for you aside. but he knows jaemin too well, he knows no matter how much he tries, jaemin will never forget you.

“you getting in?” jeno says, a smile plastered on his face.

jaemin grins back before running to the elevator to join him.

jeno was going back home.

well, he will be once he fixes things with you.

jaemin lets out a sigh, seeming deep in thought. “you sacrificed everything for her.”

jeno looks at him, an understanding of what he means by this.

“jaemin-“

“i’ll take the fall for it.” he says, a smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes. “you don’t have to tell them it was you yet, if you’re not ready.”

jeno panics, “i can’t let you do that. not anymore.”

“please let me.” he fidgets, watching the numbers on the elevator screen climb up, and up, and up. “it’s the most i can do.”

jeno doesn’t know what to say, just like before. so he does the easiest thing. even though he knows he shouldn’t, he does what he knows he’s going to regret.

the elevator dings to a halt.

he lets him.

a sacrifice for a sacrifice.

previous : mlist : next

notes; it’s been so hard tryna keep this secret guys u have NO idea

taglist — open! @jenohyun @jirsungs @do-you-remember-summer-127 @ddolbyong @stqrgr7 @thatsatricky1 @sunghoonsgfreal @nattan127 @ssweetreveries @flamingi @chenlesfavorite @peterm4rker @snoopyjimin @akunoeyebrows @junviadinho @slayhaechan @f6llsun @multifandomania @cookiehaos @catecita @mrsjohnnysuh @luv4jeno @hyuckies18 @dreamiestay @tangerinelovelees @jjaegyeom @https-yeonjun @nanaxwi @yukisroom97 @nosungluv @mrkleelvr @neocrashed @jaedgemental @apolloxxivmin @kyubing @catdonut657 @dudekiss3r @juyeonshour @hamjwis @antifrggile @mmjhh1998 @thegracerammy @jenocity23 @honeynanamin @bluedbliss @lampcults @yyangj3lly

[lilghostiequinni]

Was Never Just You

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: Single Mom!Girlfriend!female reader x Lando Norris

Warnings: Fluffy,

Summary: Somethings just start in a crisis, but it's not always a bad thing.

Requested: NO / yes

When you met Lando it was by complete accident.

The day started out normal and then later turned into a disaster.

Your sons, well, they wandered off.

It was the first winter vacation for the ski lodge you normally go to that they could come with, the boys were 3, having turned three the day you left for the trip.

But your mom didn't ski or snowboard and volunteered to watch them while you, your siblings, siblings-in-law, and your father had hit the slopes.

You snowboarding and racing two of your three older brothers, both also snowboarding, down one of their bigger slopes, you won, of course, maybe using some blackmail tactics, maybe.

When you got to the bottom of the slope after the fourth or fifth time, you went to see your boys and also got a warm drink.

You found your mother and your eldest brother's wife, who ended up staying behind because she wasn't feeling good, searching around the lobby; when your mom saw you, you could see the panic and fear in her eyes.

When you asked what was wrong, she told you that they and the boys were playing hide-and-seek, but they couldn't find the boys, and they had searched the whole inside of the resort.

When she told you how long she had been looking for your two sons, over an hour and a half.

You shred your winter gear faster than ever, leaving everything in the lobby, running around the hotel in just your socks, and having no shoes or slippers in the lobby to wear from leaving your boots there.

You ran through every floor calling your sons' names, "Theodore. Sebastian." You would knock on doors, holding up a photo of your two trouble twins if someone answered the door, asking if they had seen them.

You went from floor to floor and back down again.

On you, probably the third pass on the third floor, you ran into someone, expecting to feel the floor but instead feel the body of the person you ran into.

"I'm so so sorry." You apologize as you stand up, before trying to help the person you knocked over.

"It's okay," The man says as you help him stand and he takes off his hat and goggles.

"No, it's not, I'm sorry. I'm just looking for my twins, Theo and Seb. They were playing hide-in-seek with my mom and they... Well, they hid a little too good, and they have been missing for a couple hours." You explain, worrying even more when you realize the time.

"Maybe I can help. Let me change, and we will look together. Two sets of eyes are better than one, I can even get my girlfriend, she's just in this room." The man told you.

"You want to help me?" You were so distraught that you couldn't fathom that someone other than your family would help.

"Yeah, it's just kids. And I'm sure that my girlfriend will say the same. Just breathe and give me like ten minutes." He says, then goes into his room, and you start to take a few deep breaths, trying to calm your overactive mind.

Before the ten minutes are even up, you hear the door open and look up, it's a blonde woman who comes out and gives you a hoodie.

"This is one of our friends, I'm Pietra, and this is Max." She says as Max comes out of the room.

"Everyone just calls me Cookie. My boys, they're only 3." You say as you show the two a photo of them from your phone, tears in your eyes.

Max's eyes widen a little. "I think I know where your boys are."

"Really." You ask, your eyes widening.

"Yeah, I think they're downstairs with my friend, in the restaurant," Max tells you as Pietra grabs hold of your hand as MAx leads the two of you downstairs.

When you do get back downstairs and into the restaurant, you look around and then see Max pointing in a direction that you follow with your eyes and you see your boys.

"Theo! Seb!" You cry out and run toward them.

Your boys whip their heads around and yell out, "Mommy!" getting up and then running to you, not making it far from the table, though.

The friend of Max's following behind, just in case.

You fell to the ground to hug your twins, tears in your eyes as you hugged them.

"Where did you go?" You asked them.

"We was play seek with Gramam and Celi."

"Then we was hungry an fogot."

"Den Lanwo saws us and we gots food."

You knew their explanation was too little to be something for them to be missing just shy of three hours.

You must have looked in the restaurant three times.

But you just smiled at them and hugged them again, before standing up.

"Hi, thank you for looking after my sons." You say to the man who had also been at the table with them.

"It's no problem. I saw them on my way to my room from outside, and I figured that their mom would be with them soon. When I came back down for some food, I saw them close to the door looking out the window. One was trying to open the door, and I stopped them from going outside and offered food until you got here." He explained himself.

"Thank you again...."

"Lando. Norris. Lando Norris." He said as he offered his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Lando, everyone calls me Cookie." You said taking his hand.

That's how it started.

One singular mishap that had led to the best years of your life.

The fans were skeptical at best at first, but when they seen the smile that your sons brought to Lando's face, that you brought to him.

How you helped lift the weight off his shoulders.

At the end of the 2025 season, you basically jumped over the barrier to get to Lando after he won the championship.

He picked you up and spun you around.

He had to leave to go to the podium and do other after-race debriefs and media duties.

During December, not long after the end of the season, you and Lando both post a post on Instagram with two photos, one an engagement photo, the other a pregnancy annoucement.

Just like the year before with Max, there were retirement rumors the year before.

But when Lando came back in 2026, the rumors died out.

Life continued on, and the season was one of the best for him, only after his first wins.

A/N: First in the 100 Follower Cele Driver poll, I feel like I wanna redo this and make it longer but at the same time, most of my celebrations are usually just drabbles. But let me know if you'd want a longer fic using this idea

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @1800-love-me @barcelonaloverf1life @scopeiguess @01rrdbull @charli123456789 @smashcrabsblog @hadids-world @amz824 @taetae-armyyyyy @watermelonslut @gigicisneros @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[robinsgrl]

FEARLESS

chapter four. doors and burgers

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pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader

word count ⇢ 2.2k

warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, panic attack, boobies lol, Scarlett should be her own warning, daddy issues,

authors note ⇢ sorry that i messed up on my last post yall!! i confused scarlett with heather. she was supposed to be Heather but i was like….. heathers get too much crap thank you conan 😒 and i forgot to change it lol sorry!!! also i rewrote this like five times and i this was the one i was most satisfied with, so enjoy!!

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Scarlett leaves from what you can tell. People are talking about the kitchen debacle and there are mixed reviews. Some are still kissing Scarlett’s ass, others don’t like her any longer. But it doesn’t seem anyone’s on your side. You’re still invisible. You’ve since taken off your jacket that was drenched and Rafe has given you his. It’s big but it doesn’t cover you entirely, and that makes you feel so damn embarrassed.

Despite your mission being to get Jonah to see you, neither of you can find him anywhere. Kiara and Sarah had their eyes out for him as well but they’ve since lost the mission at hand. Now, you’re all sat in the living room where there are a few people dancing around Sarah who’s singing obnoxiously bad on the karaoke machine. No one has any idea where it came from but everyone is loving it.

You’re clapping along with Kiara, laughing when Sarah messes up another lyric and blames the song. For the first time in what seems like a long time, Rafe isn’t drinking. He isn’t doing much of anything but staying by your side. He’s sitting beside you, watching his sister with amusement. He refuses to clap though, only doing it when you reach over to lift his hands and make him clap.

It’s Kiara’s turn to sing when you get up off the couch and look for the bathroom in the huge figure 8 house. The home has photographs scattered, a happy family shown in them all. It might just be the beer in you that makes you want to cry. You’ve seen the kid around school before and he isn’t anything to you. Anything at all. But you’re wishing him the best. Yeah, you realize it’s the beer.

You stumble into a random room and let out a screech when a body gets up from a bed.

“What are you doing here?” Jonah’s voice sends a flutter through your belly. Your belly. Your stomach. You take a hold of Rafe’s jacket and tighten it around yourself, hiding your body from the guy you want badly.

“Oh… uhm…” you wipe the tears from your eyes that had bled out at the family pictures. “I’m looking for the bathroom.”

He’s immediately up on his feet at the sight of your tears. Your eyes widen when his hands take a hold of your round face and examines you carefully. “Are you okay? Why are you crying?”

Your breath hitches at the feel of his warm hand. It’s soft. Far too soft for a man who puts his all into the gym and football. “Oh? I… uhm… haha, what? Yeah? I'm… I’m fine. Just…” you sniffle and gently move his hand from your face. You’re refusing to meet his eyes,shy about your sadness. “The pictures… they look so happy.”

The look on his face makes you want to run away. And then, he laughs. “You’re crying because Tommy and his family look happy?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, stuck. “It’s not a bad thing.” Are his words when he seems to realize how stunned you feel. “It’s… adorable.”

You fumble your words, “oh, I, uhm, yeah, okay, that’s… yeah.” To have the guy you’ve been into for years call you such a word is a rush. A scary one. But you like it. And whatever it is you did, you wish you could keep doing it until he saw you as you saw him. Perfect.

You’re still standing by the door of the random bedroom and it’d be easy to just run off. But you can’t. Making a fool of yourself in front of Jonah will only make your plan harder. And Rafe would kill you for letting his effort go to waste. “What are you doing in here?” It comes out more abrasive than you wished, internally scolding yourself.

But he doesn’t seem to mind. Rather, he takes his seat back on the bed and shrugs. “It’s noisy.”

You understand. You really, really do. And you want to say it aloud but your tongue is tied as you watch him throw his head back, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows gently. After a moment, you semi-gather yourself. “Did you leave cause of Sarah?” You joke lightly. “That’s what made me leave.”

This garners a soft laugh out of him and you want to jump up and squeal. But Rafe told you to act nonchalant. “Yeah, she’s certainly… singing.”

You take one step away from the door. Just one. You were going to sit beside him. You were going to talk to him. Really talk to him.

The door behind you swings open and hits your head. Hard. “What the fuck?” Jonah’s quick on his feet, rushing to you in a panic. You turn to look at the culprit and your frown turns into a glare. Rafe.

“What the fuck, Rafe?!” You hiss, sending a punch to his shoulder.

“Why were you standing so near the door?!”

“Why would you swing it open like a maniac?!”

“It’s not my fault you were standing there—“

“Maybe don’t open doors like that—“

“Oh, shut up, do you ever not complain—“

“Says you! You’re, like, the king of complaining—“

“King? King—“

“Should I leave?” Jonah’s soft voice speaks and you shove Rafe’s face as you look at him and smile.

“N-no, you shouldn’t have to. He was just leaving.”

“I was? I don’t— ow, fuck, okay, I’m leaving.”

The mood was ruined. Whatever mood Jonah was in was gone. And so was your confidence. It's awkward as you sit next to him on the bed. The palm of your hands are on your knees, anxiously rubbing at them. He’s laid back on the bed, arm crossed over his eyes, the only thing telling you he’s up is the soft twitch of his fingers.

“Does it hurt?” His voice cuts through the thick silence.

Panicked, you glance over at him with wide eyes. “Does… does what hurt?”

“Your head. He opened the door pretty hard.” He still doesn’t move from his position and you’re grateful he’s not looking at you. You do better when people can’t perceive you.

“Oh, my head… yeah, it’s fine, doesn’t hurt. I-it’s a little sore but I’ll make him pay for it.” You shrug, fixing Rafe’s jacket on your body.

“You two are close.” It’s supposed to be a question. It doesn’t sound like one.

You shake your head despite his eyes being covered up. “Not really. I… he’s nice but we’re not like friends.”

He sits back up and this makes you tense up, looking straight ahead at that damn door you hate now. “Just never seen him with anyone but his same three friends.”

“I’m friends with Sarah. We’re just… around each other more.” It’s a lie. But you don’t believe Rafe would want people to know just how much time you’re really spending together. The less people that know, the better.

“You and Scarlett are really done?” He questions, eyes on you. But you can’t look over at him. You’re stiff and awkward and unsure of how to act around him.

You nod softly, “y-yeah… she’s, uhm, not a very nice person.”

It’s quiet for another moment. “She’s been running her mouth about you. Calling you names. Really bad names. And all you can say is ‘she's not nice’?”

Hearing that she’s still talking about you is a punch to the guy and suddenly you don’t care about your crush. You don’t care that you two are sitting so close to each other. All you can think is how horrible she truly is. How blinded you were. And how stupid you feel for missing her. “Well… just because others are doing bad things, doesn’t mean I should. Be the bigger person and whatnot.” You let out a small and awkward laugh to try and shrug off what you’re really feeling.

“Wow.” Are his words as he gets up off the bed and walks to the dresser of the bedroom and picking up a magazine. “You’re really not like other girls.” An even bigger punch to the gut. Logically, you know he’s trying to be kind. He’s only saying this to make you feel better, your feelings on Scarlett written all over your face.

You don’t wear makeup, not like other girls do. You don’t dress up, not like other girls do. You don’t giggle over guys, not like other girls do. You don’t go out and have fun, not like other girls do. But you want to do it all. You want to be like other girls. You never felt worth it. Lipstick on a pig. You’re too big to fit trendy clothes. You don’t giggle over guys because they’d be disgusted that you’re into them. You don’t go out because you’d be the biggest out of the group of girls that are around you. You’d be an eyesore.

In a frantic move, you get up off the bed. “Right. Well, I, uh… I have to go.”

“Huh? What—“ but you don’t pay any attention to his words as you rush out of the random bedroom. There are kids littering the hallway. The steps are being used as seats, shoving people slightly as you go. The music is loud. Too loud. You can feel it bouncing in your eardrums and filling your already muddled thoughts. Theres nothing you can think about other than getting out of that damn house. And in your panicked stupor, you can’t find the damn. The house is too damn big.

There’s a couple making out in the bathroom when you rush inside and when they see the fear in your eyes, they rush out, leaving you to be.

The drive isn’t awkward. Not like you thought it would be. He didn’t question you. And despite his last text, he didn’t bring it up. And you’re grateful he didn’t.

“Where are we going?” You ask when you realize you’re headed downtown. “I want to go home, Rafe.”

He shrugs, hands on the wheel. “I’m hungry. We’re just stopping by The Wreck real quick.”

He doesn’t ask you to get down with him. He parks, heads inside, and he’s out fifteen minutes later. But he doesn’t start driving. In fact, he immediately takes a bite out of his burger, your food untouched on your lap.

“You’re not gonna eat?” He asks with his mouth full, but you don’t grimace like you should. You grab a napkin and hands it to him but he shakes his head refusing it.

“You’re dirty.”

“And you’re not eating.” He swallows his food.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re lying.”

“So because I'm fat, I must be hungry?” It’s a joke but the look he gives you tells you he’s not amused in the slightest. “Tough crowd. Seriously, I'm not hungry.”

“Is this that thing where you don’t eat in front of people cause you’re with a guy? Sarah told me it’s some shit she does.”

“It’s that thing where I’m not hungry, actually.” But it smells divine. Usually, you’d happily eat this but after tonight, you’re not sure if you’ll ever eat greasy foods again.

He scoffs, putting his burger down and holding a fry up at you. “Try the fry.”

“You try the fry.”

“I already did. Seriously, my mom had this trick while we were growing up. Sarah always swore she wasn’t hungry and wouldn’t get anything to eat but she’d make her try something from the plate to realize how hungry she really was.”

“How old was she?”

“My mom? She was pushing forty.”

You glare at the proud look on his face at his joke. “Sarah, stupid.”

“I don’t know… seven?”

“You’re treating me like a seven year old?”

“Try. The. Fry.” He swipes it across your lips and this gets a laugh out of you, shoving him away.

“Okay, okay! I’ll eat a fry. But that one has lipstick all over it now.” You pick a fry from his and he squints his eyes at you.

“You have a perfectly good batch.”

You pop the fry into your mouth with a content smile. “Not as good as yours.” And he was right. The salt and buttery soft fry proved to be true— you are hungry.

With a sigh, you grab your burger and say— “okay… just… don’t look.”

This amuses him. “Don’t look at you eat your burger? Well, there goes my spank bank.”

“Ew, Rafe!” You laugh, nose scrunching at his crude words.

You take a bite of your burger. And it’s absolutely delicious. Just like you knew it would be. Instead of worrying over stuffed up cheeks or looking fat while eating, you share laughs, mouths full and not a single care.

taglist. @pinkyqily @chalahyung01 @lunalvrsblog @teenwolfbitches28 @jayjsbaby @yawnzshit @mytimeiswaiting @tsshifting @always-reading @chimchimjiminie16 @ayy1234567 @acidfeens @congratsloserr @murdockcastleslut @cl4uus @clairesblouse @ange111 @daddydraco @wtfdudesblog @honk4emoboyz @fionaapplelover2010 @raiemarine @totonella1 @lilmixed-girl @enjoymyloves @darlingisntit @c1gsaftewhat @lil-sparklqueen @bambisribbon @easybakeoven7 @vviolets444rroses @aesthetic-lyss @dr3wstarkey @sleepmaster69 @yose2123 @aligned-starz @vex-et-soleil (if your name is red, it’s not letting me tag you for some reason, sorry!)

[starkwlkr]

girl, so confusing | f1

an: this is SADLY the last part :( don’t worry, i do plan on writing more fics for the f1 dilf!! here’s your long awaited reveal on the baby daddy lol made this one extra long for y’all <3 enjoy!!

part 1 part 2

faceclaim gisele bündchen

liked by ynstyle, goss1pformulas and others

f1gossiproom could mark webber be the father? recently former red bull and williams drivers, mark and y/n have been spending time together. the pair were spotted having dinner several times and a source confirmed that webber attended y/n’s daughter’s recital! they were once again spotted out in australia spending time in bondi beach with y/n’s daughter (not pictured to protect her privacy) they were soon joined by friends and webber’s family. a source, who wishes to remain anonymous, saw them and said y/n’s daughter, gemma, and mark were bonding as if they were dad and daughter 👀 he even calls her ‘gem’ and ‘gemmy’! what do you think? is mark webber the real father? we certainly think so!

formulaho3 how about just leave them alone?

roscoesno1fan mark looks like a total dilf in that pic so yes

oscarspastry what if the real father is the friends we made along the way?

webberxvettel i need to know the truth before i die

hamiltonsmerecedes not f1 twitter trying to cancel y/n for getting with their faves 😭

lnwhores i stand by my cancelled wife

myhonestbitchface and when y/n reveals that sebastian is the bd then what 🤨 i feel it in my gut 👀 that german bitch is the bd

blackwidowswife bitch you’re just hungry

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THE PADDOCK SESSIONS has posted a new YouTube video!

Italics = voiceover by y/n

“Hello!” Y/n’s daughter, Gemma, opened the door to Dan. She knew that he was going to film an interview with her mother about her racing career. She watched as Dan’s camera man waved to her. She assumed they had already started filming.

“Gemma hates and loves when I’m away. She stays with her grandparents when I have to leave or if her dad is not busy then they’ll be together. I think she loves it because her dad lets her have ice cream before bed. I’m more of a strict parent between me and him.”

Photos of little Gemma appear on screen. The young girl was picture with her mother on her first birthday, then with Mark and family members then Sebastian and Jenson.

Dan entered Y/n’s London home with Gemma by his side. He spotted Y/n making tea. “Got here just in time.” He laughed as he joined the former driver in the kitchen.

“I hope the flight here wasn’t too bad.” Y/n passed a mug over to Dan.

“Slept my way through it,” before Dan could take a sip from his tea, he noticed the mug that he was given. It had ‘best dad ever’ sloppily written in paint. “Cute.” He held the mug up and smiled.

“Yeah, Gemma made it for her dad last year for Father’s Day.” Y/n smiled proudly at her daughter’s creation.

That’s when Gemma joined the conversation. “But I couldn’t give it to him on actual Father’s Day! He was away racing and couldn’t be here so I had to give it to him later.” She explained.

After the pair finished their tea, they walked together to Y/n’s small garden. There she had a little seating area where the rest of the interview would take place.

“Lovely garden.” Dan commented.

“Thank you, although I won’t take all the credit. Sebastian comes to help, Gemma kind of bosses him around telling him where each flower looks best.” Y/n laughed, setting her mug on the glass table.

“Dad loves the flowers I picked out for the garden.” Gemma pointed out as she joined them outside. As Dan started the interview, Gemma kept playing outside with her toys.

More images of a young Y/n flashed on screen. She was driving for Williams at the time, they were her first ever team.

“Williams was my first home. They were nice to me, but they put so much pressure on me to perform, like every race had to be perfect. And when it wasn’t, you could feel the disappointment, like a weight hanging in the air. I’d go back to my hotel room at night, and it was just me and the silence.”

The video showed a clip of young Y/n in the Williams garage getting ready for her debut race. She noticed the camera then smiled and waved. The video then cuts to from a happy, full of life Y/n to a gloomy, quiet Y/n sitting alone in her garage.

“I didn’t have friends in the paddock back then. Everyone was focused on their own thing, and the people around me—the trainers, the engineers—they all kept their distance. One of my trainers actually told me, ‘I’m not here to be your friend; I’m here to work.’ And that’s when I realized I was completely on my own."

Y/n then looked over her shoulder and saw Gemma using a teddy bear that her father had bought the girl for her birthday last year in Germany. The former driver smiled at the memory of her little family spending a special day together.

Back to the interview, Y/n then talked to Dan about her divorce. It was a dark time for her. She had been young when she said ‘I Do’ to a man she thought was the love of her life. At the time of her marriage, her husband was six years older. She was nineteen at the time, about to turn twenty.

Several headlines from the day her marriage was announced appeared on screen.

“Barely an Adult, Already a Wife: Y/N Marries Six Years Her Senior”

“Y/N’s Whirlwind Marriage: Chasing Love, Not Podiums?”

“Teenage Racer’s Rush to the Altar: Desperate for Love or Just Immature?”

“Is Y/N Looking for Validation in All the Wrong Places?”

“‘She’ll Marry Anyone’: Critics Slam Y/N’s Hasty Decision at Just 19”

"They painted me as some kind of desperate girl who couldn’t handle being alone. The truth was, I was 19, scared, and in love—or at least I thought I was. But that didn’t matter to them. They just wanted to sell papers."

Dan then spoke. “What led to the divorce?”

Y/n sighed deeply. Only a few people knew the real reason. “It’s . . . a complicated thing to talk about. I mean, when you’re nineteen and in love, or what you think is love, you don’t always see the red flags. At the time, I thought I’d found someone who believed in me, who would support me no matter what. But as time went on, I realized that wasn’t the case."

A picture of Y/n getting ready by herself on her wedding day appears on screen. Her family were not present as her husband at the time wanted it to be only them. She smiled brightly at the camera as her photo was taken. The image fades then clips of Y/n racing in the early 2000s play.

“He wanted a family. Kids, a house, the whole thing. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but he wanted it then, right when my career was just beginning. He gave me an ultimatum—racing or him."

Dan lightly gasped at her words. “Oh . . .”

“I chose racing. How could I not? It was everything I’d worked for, everything I’d dreamed of. But he didn’t take it well. He made me feel like I was selfish, like I was throwing away a chance at a ‘real’ life."

Several more images of Y/n and her then husband flash on screen. There’s no photos of him attending races, mostly because he thought racing was dumb and didn’t like loud crowds.

“He didn’t trust me. Whenever I was away at races, he’d insist I call him every single day, sometimes multiple times. If I missed a call because I was in a meeting or debrief, he’d accuse me of . . . things. Things that weren’t true. I couldn’t even have a normal conversation with my trainer or my team principal without worrying about how he’d react."

"There were times I wanted to visit my family, to go home and just breathe. But he’d make me feel so guilty for even thinking about it, like I was abandoning him. So I stopped trying."

The screen cuts back to Y/N on the sofa. Her hands are clasped tightly now, her voice calm but with an undercurrent of emotion.

“And then the divorce was final and for a moment I was happy until he went to the media spreading all sorts of lies.” Y/n added.

Several more magazine headlines appear on screen.

“The Truth About Y/N: Ex-Husband Reveals Why Their Marriage Failed”

“‘She Wanted the World to Love Her, Not Me’: Y/N’s Ex Speaks Out”

“‘All She Cared About Was Fame’: Y/N’s Ex-Husband Speaks Out About Their Divorce”

Then the screen cuts to clips of Y/n’s ex husband being interviewed about their marriage.

“I sacrificed so much to support her career, but she couldn’t give me the one thing I wanted: a family. She was too busy chasing the cameras and the glory.”

“It was rough. Instead of being asked about racing, I was asked about my failed marriage.” Y/n recalled all the times during interviews when her ex-husband’s name was mentioned. “I just wanted to go home a cry, but I had a job to do. But of course the attention I was getting got me fired.”

“How were you told you were no longe driving for Williams?” Dan asked.

“Would you believe it if I said it was a ten second phone call from Claire Williams?” Y/n laughed. “Claire and I were never enemies. A few days after I got her call, she had dinner in my house and explained to me that she didn’t want to be the one to call me, but she was pressured to. Apparently the Williams team thought it was best for her to tell me in a phone call because they thought it would be ‘easier’ if the news came from her, since she’s a woman. They thought it would hurt less coming from her. Can you believe that?"

Dan noticed how Y/n laughed at the mention of the famous ten second phone call.

“It was definitely ridiculous of them. But they didn’t understand how humiliating it was either way. But Claire . . . I could tell she hated it. She ended the call so quickly because she didn’t want to do it. She didn’t want me to be dropped from the team."

A photo showed of Claire Williams talking to Y/n before a race. At the time, Y/n didn’t know it, but Claire was her only friend.

“I don’t blame her for how it happened. She was caught in the middle of a decision that wasn’t hers to make. And honestly, her coming to my house afterward to explain—that meant something. It didn’t fix anything, but it showed she cared." Y/n finished drinking her tea then resumed speaking. “That ten-second call changed everything for me. But at least I know it wasn’t Claire’s choice. It was just . . . Williams being Williams."

“After everything that happened with Williams, you had every reason to step away from the sport. But instead, you joined McLaren. Looking back now, would you say that was the decision that changed everything for the better?" Dan questioned. He watched as her face softened. She truly adored her time with mclaren.

Y/n nodded. “Joining McLaren felt like a fresh start, like a second chance to prove what I was capable of. At Williams, I was just surviving. But at McLaren, I got to thrive."

Clips of Y/n during her time with the mclaren team played. Her smile was genuine and she looked happier than ever.

“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep racing. I didn’t know if I could trust another team. But McLaren . . . they believed in me in a way no one else had."

"It wasn’t just about the racing, though. McLaren gave me a second chance, not just at my career, but at myself. It reminded me why I fell in love with this sport in the first place."

“And then came those three idiots.” Y/n laughed when she remembered becoming friends with Mark, Jenson and Sebastian. Her cheeks tinting slightly, but her smile stays steady.

“But with that friendship came negative comments. I remember reading articles calling you horrible names just for having friendships with them.” Dan commented.

“Those negative comments still come my way even after many years,” Y/n added. “I stayed away from social media for that same reason until recently.”

“But with sharing your life on social media also came questions about your daughters life as well.”

Y/n knew it was something that was going to come up in the interview. Dan didn’t want to ask, but Y/n wanted to share. Gemma’s father and her had discussed it before and they both agreed to the interview.

“Yeah, the whole ‘who’s the father?’ thing has taken over every social media app i have. I can’t avoid it, especially when people constantly message me about it.” Y/n spoke. “Jenson thinks it’s hilarious.”

“Jenson?” Dan questioned.

“Yeah, he sent me a meme about it comparing us to Mamma Mia. I sent it to Sebastian and he sent it to Mark.”

The remainder of the interview, Y/n talked about her family she shared with the man who endlessly supported through everything. Every time she talked about him, she smiled brightly. It was clear that she loved him and their daughter more than anything.

As the video came to an end, Gemma was seen running towards someone who was out of frame. “Dad’s home!” Gemma jumped into his arms and hugged him.

“I thought you were flying in next week.” Y/n stood up to hug him.

“I come here to surprise you and Gem and this is how I’m treated?” He placed a kiss on Y/n’s temple, still holding onto Gemma. “Sorry, I definitely interrupted you two, haven’t I?”

“It’s alright, Jenson. We were just wrapping things up.”

INSTAGRAM

liked by landonorris, wagstyle and others

f1gossip after finally revealing the identity of her daughter’s father, y/n and her daughter gemma were seen together in a beach in california 👀 jenson button also lives in california so we’re thinking the button family is spending some time together.

vettelsbees GIRL SEB WAS SPOTTED AT LAX

hamiltonsmercedes AND MARK

nicorosbergisadiva WHAT IS GOING ONNNN

landonorris hey i know her

ferraridepressionclub ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HEREEE

webbertears what do you know you gremlin

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“Can I have money for ice cream?” Gemma ran up to her parents, Mark and Sebastian. The former drivers were all enjoying the sunshine of California, an idea that came from Gemma. She had been the one to call Mark and Sebastian to join her and her parents. They agreed even if they cancelled their plans with friends. They would literally do anything for the young girl.

Without hesitation, all the men took out their wallets and took out money for the girl. Their actions caused both Gemma and Y/n to laugh.

“Okay, thank you.” She gladly took the money from each of them.

“I’ll go with you, Gemmy,” Mark said as he got up from his spot and took Gemma’s hand in his. Together they walked to the ice cream stand.

“Has Claire called you?” Sebastian wondered. Ever since the interview was posted, the Williams team had posted several posts of Y/n when she was driving for them. They were finally acknowledging her wins and podiums. And of course they received some criticism from fans.

“She messaged me letting me know she watched the interview. She’s happy I did it.” Y/n replied.

“We all are. You should’ve done the interview years ago.” Jenson said.

Y/n only nodded and turned her attention to Mark and Gemma. The girl had always been close to both the German and Australian drivers, how couldn’t she when they had been in her mothers life and now they were in hers.

“Gemma asked if she could go to a race, but she wants you all to be there.” Y/n spoke up. Gemma desperately wanted the three men to join her. Y/n knew they would all say yes immediately.

“Did she say which one?” Sebastian asked.

“She said she wants to go to each of your home races.” Y/n grinned as Jenson immediately said he was in. Sebastian laughed then nodded. Of course they would join Gemma, the girl had them all wrapped around her finger.

“And will you be attending too?” Jenson winked at her. “We could do a repeat of what happened after Australia.”

“Funny, I was about to suggest the same thing but it happened in Canada.” Sebastian teased.

“Well weren’t you a busy woman.” Jenson smirked. “And Mark?”

Y/n kept quiet, innocently sipping her lemonade. After setting her drink down, the former drivers waited for her answer. “If you must know . . . We were in Vegas.”

Jenson groaned. “I was thinking Monaco.”

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, baby.”

[coldilikeit]

Isekai reader x Batfam (Neglected au)

Female reader

Chapter 7- the true princess of Wayne Manor

Short chapter*

_____________________________

"(Name)... I noticed something from you" Dick says "When you try something new, you stop pursuing it if you're not immediately good at it"

A reincarnated and two vigilantes go rock climbing, sounds like the start of an awful joke huh?

After the continued event of you encountering the villains and school shooters, they decided to teach you some stuff, Karate, Muay Thai, Taekwondo, jujitsu, painting, swimming, Camping, Ziplining, trying the scary roller coaster rides-

Huh?

This is slowly starting to feel like family outings

You jump further up "What do you mean?", He looks up at you "I mean... When we went swimming and Damian dived you wanted to try it out too, but when you realized you couldn't do it you just stopped, but when we tried archery and you could do it, you wanted to stay there longer"

"I just don't want to keep on trying on a lost cause, I hate feeling helpless and disappointed" you say, as you three reached the top, you rest for a bit and Jason hands you a bottle of water "what kind of helpless?" He asked

"When mom was sick, we had one problem, and it was money, I thought to myself that it'll be okay since I know how to make money, just give me a couple of months and we'll have what we need, turns out we didn't have a couple of months, I worked really hard and I was just disappointed that I couldn't save her, there I promised myself I wouldn't try on a lost cause" you drank the whole bottle and even burped after"Excuse me"

"I mean" you stated "Why didn't you think I never even tried to get along with you guys, first meeting Damian calls me an 'it', who'd expect family after that" you laugh

Nevermind the fact that you know you're in a world where they're not supposed to love you

After losing your family the first time, and your mom the second time, knowing you'll have no one after that was depressing, you wanted to at least defy the system, you told yourself that if you tried to get along with them, maybe they'll accept you

The system quickly shut that thought down by telling you that "In any of the fics you've read, were any of the readers successful?"

Basically telling you that if in the fiction you've read no main character succeeded, you trying to gain their love would do nothing, you'd just set yourself up for failure

Reader... I'm sorry but you are on the verge of failing, at this rate, you won't get the special reward...

You look up at the screen in curiosity, their hatred meter was on 2%, but the past few days that the new vigilante Protagonist has been fighting with the bat family, it went up again to 15%, and whenever they spend time with you it goes down again, when they spend time with protagonist it goes up again, you honestly have no idea what's going on

Bruce's hatred meter is already in the negatives, if all of them go to the negatives you've failed

Dick hugs you "Let's go shopping" he smiles

____________________________

And you find yourself at the mall, you find some books you think you'll like and Jason pays for you, you find some clothes you think you'll like and Dick pays for you

They both drag you to a dress store, and to be honest you feel like you're forgetting something really important

You open your phone to find no messages, not from your friends or anyone

They settle you with a black dress you like, of course they'd pick something in their color, and you ride the taxi home

The Manor is eerie and quiet, Alfred isn't there to greet your return and frankly you're worried, he's always there to greet us, did something happen?

The Joker attacked? But you didn't see any bat patrolling? And why would Dick and Jason be with you?

You open the doors of the manor and-

"Happy birthday (Name)!" They yell, there you see Alfred, your friends, children from the orphanage you visit, the children you tutor, and some paparazzi, some rich looking people you don't know, and holy fuck- is that the justice league in civilian form!?!? oh and also your family is here

Right.

It's your 16th birthday...

And this... Is your first official Wayne Gala

You totally forgot.

You rarely celebrate your birthday... Because sometimes, the system tells you to celebrate it alone, sometimes it doesn't, you only remember your birthday when the system makes a mission surrounding it

Shit.

You can't get out of this one

Bruce smiles at you and he takes your hand the music starts

Another shit.

Is this a father-daughter dance?

It is.

Everyone is eager to see it, the paparazzi has cameras pointed at the both of you, your friends are smiling enjoying the party, and the kids are laughing

"(Name) Looks like a princess!" A kid says

You laugh uncomfortably "I don't know how to dance" you whisper to your father (that's a lie, you're amazing), he then places your feet to step on his "that's fine" he says

Then you he dances, his feet guide yours and it becomes this adorable moment where dad doesn't mind that his daughter doesn't know how to dance and is just happy that your in his arms

You are screaming on the inside.

How could you forget about something like this!?!?

You see his hatred meter drop even more, then you see the others, from 15% it goes to 10% then 5% then-

The dance finishes, the crowd claps and cheers, the dance showing you and your father's closeness...

Then a girl speaks "Excuse me?" She says, Everyone's attention is on her and she smiles, she runs to your father "I'm so happy to finally meet you!" She holds his hands pushing you away

Bruce pulls away from her "What are you doing!?" He glared

She looked flustered but smiled either way, she pulled out some documents and gave it to Bruce

"I thought it would be the right moment to tell you since everyone is here... I'm your long lost daughter Viviana!"

_____________________________

EHEHEHEHEHHEHE MANHWA READERS YALL PROLLY KNOW WHERE THIS IS GOING

____________________________

@jellyedkazoo @vanilliona @shyenemyperson @popboomcha @plsfckmedxddy @devotedlyshamelessdetective @dorkatron-2000 @yuyuzi-ling @sweetsugerskull @butratherbutrather @yu-reiii @clementinesyummy @lfiee @iamapotatoe @type-ink @unknownloner1345 @randomlyappearingartist @justatimidcreator

[leighsartworks216]

What's the Whole World

Sylus x gn!Reader

Wrote this when I was overstimulated and extra emotional from my period iykyk

Title from "What's the Whole World" by Warmer

Warnings: hurt/comfort, established relationship, cuddling, crying, swearing

Word Count: 1,395

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Your apartment building's hot water isn't working, so you take a freezing cold shower. Your bike doesn't start, so you have to take the bus. You forgot to eat breakfast, so you go to the vending machine, except the snack gets stuck against the glass. You don't get to eat lunch because you get sent on back to back missions. You have to stay late to finish the paperwork for said missions. The food you buy at a late night stall is too expensive and almost too overcooked to eat.

But through all of that, through every little thing the world does to spite you today, one thought kept you sane: Sylus. You don't have work for the next couple days and Sylus moved things around on his schedule to spend all of that time with you. Being able to spend time with him is the one thing holding you together right now.

Imagine your disappointment when you get to his base in the N109 zone, excited to see him after the ungodly public transport you had to take, only to be told by Luke and Kieran that he isn't there. Not only that, they're not sure when he'll be back, after he zipped off to meet up with someone for whatever business venture he's planning on branching off to next. They offer you a ride back to your place, but the thought of going back home, to your freezing water and cramped walls, only makes you feel worse.

So you do the next best thing: you curl up in Sylus's bed, hugging a Grumpy Crow plushie, and try really hard not to cry.

You feel hollow. A void in your chest, opening its maw wide to swallow your hope, optimism and joy, regurgitating loneliness and disappointment in its place. It shouldn't be that big of a deal. Things happen, stuff comes up. Especially when you're the leader of a giant illegal faction, and owner of god knows how many businesses. Just... why didn't he tell you about it?

Tears sting your eyes. You don't want to cry. Not here, not in Sylus's bed. Could anything be more pathetic? You should have just gone home. At least there you could drown yourself in a mountain of ice cream without having to worry about being seen making the trip to and from the kitchen.

The longer you suppress your emotions, the more your brain reminds you of the shit day you've just had.

The cold water meant taking an extremely quick 10 second shower. The bus ride was so cramped you were pressed up against so many other commuters. The only thing you've eaten today wasn't worth the price, leaving a hole in your stomach yet to be satisfied. Your whole body aches, from your arms and shoulders to your back and legs. You're tired, you're upset, and all you were asking for to compensate for all of that bullshit is a hug. Just one hug! A hug this plushie certainly wasn't providing.

You curl around the crow plushie, squeezing it with the remaining strength you have in your arms. You press your face into its soft head, the ruffle around its neck tickling you. You take a deep breath. And you cry. The worst kind of crying: deep heaving gasps for air, ragged sobs that grate at your throat, fat tears that have no end and soak deep into the fabric of the plushie and Sylus's pillow; body shaking, soul crushing, pathetic. You want the bed to open up and swallow you whole. You want Dr. Zayne to go in and remove your heart to spare you the pain. You just want this horrible feeling to go away, by any means possible.

God knows how long you cry for. It feels like hours. Your eyes burn, raw from all the moisture. Your cheeks are sore from the horrible grimace your face pulls with your sobs. The crow is completely soaked where your face is.

The bed shifts, slowly. Hesitantly. You choke up again, because you already know who it is.

A hand touches your arm. You automatically flinch out of its grasp. A bitter part of you wants to make him feel just as bad as you do. Wants to lie here crying while he's forced to watch. But, god, that one touch alone is like the sun after weeks of rain. It's like a splash of bright yellow against the dark, saturated hues that compose your sorry state. And when he doesn't touch you again, it's consumed once more by the darkness.

"What happened?" he asks. His voice is so soft, tinged with protectiveness. If someone hurt you, he'd take care of it. He'd do anything to take this heartache from you. All you would need to do is say the word. What, then, are you supposed to say if he's the one that hurt you?

Another sob wracks your body. You curl in impossibly tighter, as though you could shrink yourself down to the size of a pea to hide from his intense gaze on your back. Your throat hurts from crying so hard.

"Can I touch you?" he asks next, when you don't respond.

Your body and mind want two different things. Your mind wants to hold strong to your newfound loneliness, but your body yearns to crawl to him, to collapse in his arms, to finally, finally get that hug you were waiting for.

It's your body that wins out, in the end, but you refuse to give in completely to its desires. So instead of seeking him out, you just nod and wait for him to come to you.

He does, almost right away. He touches your arm again. When you don't pull away, he closes the space left between you. His chest presses against your back, legs tucked right up to yours. His arms wrap around your body, securely keeping you against him. He presses his face to the back of your neck. Like this, he feels every tremor and shiver of every gasp and sob. Like this, you feel encapsulated in his warmth and comfort. It's almost overwhelming. It almost suffocates you with how amazing it feels to finally be held by him.

He kisses the fine hairs on your neck in a delicate peck, silently telling you how badly he wants to help. "Will you tell me what happened, sweetie?"

You dig your fingers into the Grumpy Crow's plush body. They tremble with emotion. "You weren't h-here," you whimper out. Your voice is awful. "'N y-you didn't say a-anything about it."

"I didn't...?" One of his arms slips away. He digs his phone out of his pocket and taps quickly at the screen, before dropping it to the bed behind him with a sigh. His arm returns to its rightful place around you, squeezing you slightly tighter. "It didn't go through, kitten. I'm sorry."

That text was meant to get to you hours ago. Unfortunately, he must have lost service before it could go through. So for hours, you were left in the dark, literally and metaphorically, with no idea where he was or what he was doing.

He kisses your neck again. "How can I make it up to you? Name anything - it's yours."

Anything? There's only one thing you want. And now that you know his radio silence wasn't intentional, your mind loses the reins holding your body back.

You push the crow plushie away. It rolls sadly across the bed, dark fabric stained darker with tears and fluff rearranged so he's squished into an odd shape. Sylus lets go when you squirm in his hold. You turn around and immediately cling onto him. You hide your face in his neck and he cradles the back of your head to keep you there. His cologne floods your senses, accompanied by his body wash, warming you in a way the lingering scent on his pillow and bedsheets never could.

"Just want you." You grip the back of his shirt in your fists, squeezing him as tightly as you can, just like you'd done to the plushie. Except he's solid, and he squeezes you back just the same. "Please don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere," he promises. "We'll stay here for as long as you want."

"Forever."

"Okay, sweetie." He kisses your head. "We'll stay here forever."

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko 

[please-destroy]

You'd Like That

Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Word Count: 1K

.

You’d thrown her off. You could tell. 

Lizzie’s smile was dimmed. She leaned her chin against her hand, watching you from the other side of the small party. Her forehead was furrowed, her finger touched her lower lip without her realising.

You looked down at your drink. It was all your fault.

.

You’d been close friends for years. For a long time, you’d floated around in the same social circles, never really saying more than a few words to each other. 

Then, there’d been a slightly too drunk get together organised by a mutual friend. 

That evening quickly became something unexpectedly perfect. You’d spent hours talking with her in someone else’s backyard, wrapped in old blankets that you’d found when she’d started shivering. You talked for hours about every subject, laughing more than you’d ever laughed with someone before. 

When you left that party in the early morning, you’d wondered if this was one of those magic nights. Or, if Lizzie might really become a friend. 

She called you the next afternoon and answered your question with her nonchalant greeting and conversation.

Her friendship quickly became the best part of your life. 

Life doesn’t follow the routes you expect. This was one of the good unexpected turns. 

Lizzie was not lowkey. That was a common misconception. 

You remembered the first time she called you from a Whole Foods. It had taken a ten minute ramble about grocery choices until you realised the subtle anxiety in her voice. The fear of making a mistake, the many ways it could manifest. 

She apologised after the call. A line of texts, where she made fun of herself. 

The world shifted on its axis and you saw Lizzie clearly then. 

‘Call me whenever, I’ll never mind.’ You’d replied simply.

Lizzie didn’t trust easily. That was true.

It’s how you knew you were special. It was so easy to find a rhythm with her, to live on the same wavelength.

Every year for her birthday, you spent the day together. Every year, you told her that you loved her. That she’d made your year better.

Lizzie would smile, roll her eyes and wrap you in a hug. 

You knew that you were special to her but you’d been careful not to jump to conclusions. 

Until, of course, you’d said something stupid. Something honest. And Lizzie had left. 

.

Now, at the party, as you refilled your drink and tried to ignore the loud music, you realised that you’d likely ruined everything.

The thought settled on your shoulders like a heavy weight, a ready nausea filling your throat. You left your untouched drink on a side-table. You craned your neck, scouting for Lizzie in the crowd.

You saw her dim silhouette on the small balcony and headed over. 

Her pale face turned towards you as you slid open the french doors. Lizzie was sitting on an ancient wicker chair that looked close to collapse. It creaked as she moved to face you.

‘We should talk.’ You suggested softly.

Lizzie’s long hair shifted over her shoulder as she nodded in agreement. Her fingers trailed the edge of the balcony railing. 

‘Did you always like me like that?’ She asked abruptly. ‘Is that why you started talking to me?’

Her cool tone made you nervous. You wondered if this was pointless, if everything had already unravelled.

‘No.’ You answered slowly, careful in your honesty. ‘Just a little bit more every day.’

Lizzie’s expression faltered. You could tell it wasn’t what she’d expected. She crossed her legs and you couldn’t help but notice her bare skin.

‘Since I got bigger movie deals?’ Lizzie asked, accusation barely hidden. 

A flash of hurt ran through you.

‘No.’ You tried to keep a level tone. ‘Since the day you called me at Whole Foods.’

Lizzie shook her head.

‘That doesn’t make sense.’ She said quietly.

You shrugged, staying silent as sadness rolled through you. This felt pointless, you’d already lost her. You’d already made the confession that you couldn’t undo. A wave of grief was burgeoning. You wondered if you’d drown. 

You slipped your arms out of your sweater and pulled it over your head.

‘Every year, I spend Valentine’s Day excited that your birthday is only two days away.’ You told her quietly. You handed her your sweater and nodded down to her bare legs, hoping she’d use it as a blanket. She always got cold on nights like these.

‘I’m sorry I fucked it up.’ You told her softly. Lizzie’s eyes reflected distant stars back at you. 

You walked back into the party with the distinct feeling that you were no longer yourself.

.

With no alcohol in you, you decided to leave and walk the few streets back to your place. The cold air countered the twisted grief burning up your insides.

You walked with a mind full of Lizzie. 

Valentine’s Day was tomorrow. You couldn’t care less, not anymore. 

You thought about her birthday in three days. You tried not to think about her smile, about how quickly a person can become a memory. You hoped Lizzie wouldn’t be alone for it.

.

You turned the corner of your street. 

Lizzie was stepping out of an Uber at your front door. She was wearing your sweater, her hair was caught beneath it. She straightened at the sight of you, raising her hand in a tentative wave.

You walked closer, heart in your mouth. Unfiltered surprise was running through your veins.

‘Why Whole Foods?’ Lizzie asked when you were in hearing distance. ‘Why did it start then?’

You laughed suddenly, at the most obvious unanswerable question in the world.

‘Why not?’ You countered. ‘It had to happen some time.’

Lizzie watched you like you were something brand new. A silence fell between you before she spoke again.

‘Valentine’s Day is tomorrow.’ Lizzie told you seriously, fingers playing with the sleeves of your sweater. ‘We have nothing planned, and I actually had other plans. Not with anyone, not anything like that. But, I’d still have to cancel them. And I had errands to run in the afternoon.’

You recognised the familiar tone of Lizzie’s anxiety. You realised suddenly that she was just scared. 

You took her hand, twining your fingers and giving a quick squeeze.

‘We could just get groceries.’ You suggested with a soft smile.

Lizzie let out a shaky breath, her lips quirked upwards. She squeezed your hand back.

‘Yeah.’ She teased. ‘You’d like that.’

[moody-alcoholic]

Break in

John Price x reader. WC: 1.9k. CW: break in, canon typical violence.

_____

You hate the winter, it gets dark too quickly. The temperature drops and you hate the cold. The worst thing about winter though is how much it makes you miss your husband. Everyone at work talks about getting ready to spend time with their families, or family and friends coming to visit them. You don’t even know if you’ll see John over the Christmas period. 

Last year he left on boxing day, the year before that he was gone for over a week until the 2nd of January. He missed Christmas and new years. You thought you would be used to it by now, him being away but it doesn’t seem to be getting any easier. At least this time he’s in London, he’s on a base most of the time. He keeps telling you if he’s lucky he’ll be there until way after the new year. 

That means he comes home at the end of each day, you get to spend time with him and do things you’ve not been able to do in previous years like go shopping for christmas gifts. It doesn’t matter though, it shouldn’t matter, it’s just one day of the year. You could just do a delayed christmas again, it never feels the same though. 

You hitch your bag over your shoulder as you walk through the gate to your townhouse. It’s way later than you would normally get home but the house is still dark so clearly John isn’t back yet either. You’re carrying shopping bags in each hand putting one down so you can fish in your pocket for the house key. You close the gate behind you and make it up to the front door. 

Your body freezes as you reach out for the lock. Your breathing stops, eyes going wide. Goosebumps rise over your skin. 

The door has been kicked in, you can see the damage on the wood where they’ve used a tool to pry it open. 

The shopping bag you’ve got round your wrist is pulling your hand down. You don’t know what to do, you should call the police. No, you should call John, maybe he broke in, forgot his keys? But then why didn’t he call you. There’s a pretty sophisticated security system John installed when you first bought the place. You would have got a security notification if it was activated. 

You drop the bags on the floor backing up down the steps and reaching into your pocket for your phone. Your hands shake as you walk back down the path until you hit the gate. It takes you two attempts to click John's name before you finally bring the phone up to your ear. He won’t pick up the first time, you let it ring out for a few seconds then call him right back. Then he’ll know it’s important. 

“Hey, love. Give me a second.” He says before there’s silence on the like, it feels like the silence is lasting minutes not seconds. You feel a lump rising in your throat, a breath hitches in your throat. You feel silent tears run down your face as you look into the house windows for movement.

“Sorry love. I know I’m late-”

“John, there's someone in the house.” You say before he can finish his sentence. You don’t have time, your heart picks up in your chest. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, the tone of his voice is darker.

“I came home and the door was kicked in.” This time your words come out with a sob. You feel sick.

“Okay, I'm on my way.” You hear shuffling, the sound of keys. You don’t know what to do, panic rises in you.

“Should I call the police?” You ask. 

“No. I’m coming okay, 10 minutes, I'll be there I promise.” You hear him snap his fingers. “Don’t go in the house okay. Stay outside.” You hear a car door close, then another.

“Okay,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’ll be there soon.” He says then hangs up. You’re still looking in the house for movement, you don’t see anything, the rooms dark. You shiver as a cold breeze moves in, it could snow soon, you don’t want to be outside when it snows. 

…

John turns the normally 15 minute drive into less than ten, even down the congested London roads he breaks several traffic laws to get home. He’ll deal with the fines later, but the last thing he needs is to get pulled over now. 

“What if-” “Don’t even fucking say it.” He snaps at Ghost sitting next to him. His hands grip the steering wheel as he turns down the street towards his house. The place is quiet, it’s almost 9pm. He parks up pulling in so fast he almost hits another car. He can see you, stood on the pavement outside the house, your face red with tears, your arms wrapped around your chest.

They both Jump out of the car and John makes a bee line towards you. His hands come up to cup your face. 

“You’re okay, go wait in the car.” he says brushing your tears away with his thumbs. You nod letting out another sob, he watches as you head over to the car getting in the back.

“Take the top floor, I’ll sweep the ground.” He says to Ghost as he walks through the gate towards the house. John takes the lead removing the sidearm from its holster bringing it into his hands. He toes open the door, the house is dark, there’s no sound, they could be gone already. 

Ghost is silent on his feet moving up the stairs as John continues down the corridor to the kitchen. He brings the weapon up to his eyeline as he adjusts to the darkness. They have an advantage here, they know the layout of the house better than the intruders, hopefully.  

Ghost finds the first guy on the top floor. He’ll be working his way down now. As soon as John is done he will work his way up. The back door was still locked but it could have been locked from the inside without a key. There’s no mess, the place hasn’t been ransacked. They weren't looking for valuables.

The ground floor is clear as John works his way up to the first floor. He heads straight for his home office, maybe they were looking for a different type of valuable. 

John finds the second guy in the spare bedroom. Tying him up and throwing him in a closet with tape over his mouth. No need to shed blood in his home, besides gives him something to do tonight other than paperwork.

He meets up with Ghost outside his office pushing the door open together. The window is wide open with the whole place being ransacked. Ghost walks into the room, looking down out the window. John sighs, they’ve missed one and he has no idea what they could have been looking for. Ghost turns to look at him, putting his pistol away. John already knows what he wants to say.

“Don’t fucking say it.” He sighs putting his own pistol away

…

You’re sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea in your hands. John said the place was clear that they didn’t find anyone. Maybe they got spooked when you came home, heard you and ran. That's what you tell yourself to calm your nerves. John walks into the room, he comes over to the sofa and sits down next to you. 

His arm goes round your back and you lean into him. 

“You did great.” He says rubbing your thigh with his other hand. You don’t know what to say. Someone broke into your house, even with all the security measures John put in place someone got past them and invaded your home. 

You’re not even thirsty but you bring the hot tea up to your lips anyway taking a sip letting it burn your throat. 

“What if you weren’t here?” You say, your voice is quiet, your head dipped down as more tears come. The panic and adrenaline gone your mind is filled with what ifs. 

“Don’t worry about that, I have things in place.” His hand comes up to your chin pulling your face up to look at him as you put the tea back in your lap. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

You don’t believe him, it’s going to be a while before you’re going to feel safe in your own home. Even though whoever was here was gone before John got home, they were still here. It could have been so much worse. 

You lean forward putting the cup of tea on the coffee table, it just tastes bitter anyway. His hand rubs your back almost like he’s trying to rub the tension out your muscles. You close your eyes his arms wrap around you as he leans back into the sofa. 

“You’re safe I promise. I would never ever let anything happen to you.” He kisses the top of your head. You let out a long breath, that you believe but it’s not always that simple.

“Will you stay? Please don’t leave, at least not for tonight.” 

“I will, I’m going to be here with you.”  You turn in his arms to look up at him, his deep blue eyes blinking down at you. He leans down pressing his lips to yours. You let yourself sink into the fermilia kiss, his tongue brushing yours as his hands run up and down your body. This is where you feel safe, in his arms, with his touch. 

The knock on the door pulls you out of the kiss, he turns to look. 

“Let me go chat with him then we’ll go to bed okay?” He says his thumb coming to brush the tears escaping your eyes. You nod sitting back up straight.

He’s not gone for long, coming back in and offering you his hand. You take it and he guides you up to bed, his hands don’t leave you, running up and down your body as you make it to the room. He helps you change, pressing kisses round your neck and shoulders, his fingers brushing hair out your eyes and tears when they fall. 

Eventually you crawl into bed together, he rolls over to turn his bedside light off, the only light left on in the room. 

“Leave it on.” You say, you’re not sure why, you just don’t want to be in the dark.

“Okay, whatever you need love.” He says pulling your back against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You close your eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing in your ears.

“I will always be here. Even when it feels like I’m hundreds of miles away I will always be here for you.” He says as he kisses your cheek. You smile at his words, even if you’re doubtful, it’s what you need to hear. 

“I love you.” You say as he squeezes you tighter.

“I love you too. You’re safe, you always will be, I promise.” His hand moves down to your waist pulling you against him further. “Get some sleep, I'll be here with you. I’m not leaving your side.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise, I’ll protect you, forever. You’re safe, just get some rest.” He nuzzles his face into your neck. You try to stay awake, fighting the sleepiness that comes over you as he runs his hands over you. You can feel his heartbeat, his warm breath in your ear. 

At least you’re not outside in the cold, you’re warm and safe in his arms. Strangers broke into your home but you know it won’t happen again because John won’t let it happen again. 

____ It was supposed to be short but I don't know when to stop.

[gokyrts]

what about when patrón!carlos finds the little sister?

i das thinking about him being like "Eres libre de irte, I've found her" while he opens the door to his office and both girls storm out without a wors cause the youngest just wanted to get home but his princesita is no longer visiting cause she thinks that he doesn't want to see her ever again after all the strings he had to pull but he's actually craving g

hiii nonnie, sorry it took so long!! hopefully this will be enough of an apology <3

Read the introductory fic here!

18+ | warnings: cartel politics, mention of kidnapping, suggestive, Carlos getting handsy

wc: 1.3k

The blood in your veins nearly ran cold when you saw motorcycles pull up outside your home — the rev of engines deafening like the unmistakable energy the sicarios had around them. The rapping of knuckles against the front door spiked your anxiety. Standing frozen in your kitchen you didn’t dare move. Have they come for you too? More insistent rapping on your door and then a voice.

“Señorita, if you don’t open the door I’ll tell my boss his search was in vain and that he can return the little girl.”

Your heart hammered. He found her. Carlos found your sister. You sprinted to the door, nearly pulling it off its hinges as you threw it open.

“Where is she?”

Your insistence amused the man standing outside, his smirk widening.

“Whoa… easy,” he stopped you, eyes trained on your body. He licked his chapped lips and you suddenly felt self-conscious in your comfortable home attire. “Throw something pretty on, hmm? Then we can go.” With that he turned on his heel and walked back to his motorcycle, hip cocked against it and waiting for you to change.

You threw on a dress that had just finished drying in the evening sun and walked back outside, earning a few whistles from the men who came to pick you up. Avoiding their gazes, you approached the sicario who talked to you. He checked you out thoroughly and it was just as uncomfortable as the first time.

“Not bad. Hop on.”

His words were ringing in your mind nearly the whole ride but the closer you got to the safe house the more you thought about reuniting with your sister. When you got there, the procedure went as you expected — you were patted down by a pair of bold hands before being allowed inside and even then you were accompanied by armed men.

Carlos was leaning on his desk, his large hand wrapped around the handle of a gun, the other using a rag to clean the barrel. He noticed the bated breath with which you arrived, your eyes searching the room for any presence of your sister. Yet the room was devoid of any other woman except you. You searched his eyes next, the unspoken question hanging on your lips.

“Señor Sainz,” you breathed out, acknowledging the man.

Carlos put the rag down next to him on the table but the gun stayed in his right hand. You were defenseless yet intimidation tactics were used on you, to make you feel a bit more helpless and indebted. You swallowed thickly before speaking.

“T-They told me you found her…”

The stutter didn’t help your case, it only made everyone in the room want to play a little more.

Carlos loaded the gun, the metal clicking in place reminding you of the cold sweat on your palms. You watched as he tucked the gun into his pants, the masculinity with which the grip stuck from behind his belt making you scrunch your nose.

“Sit down. You look like you’re about to faint.” His voice was every bit like honey over your ears but you knew there was poison in it despite the initial sweetness. Nonetheless, you pulled the leather chair by his desk up and took a seat. Your hands were folded in your lap and you felt smaller than before, even more when Carlos stood up at his full height. He circled you like the predator he was, getting ready to pounce on his prey.

“Sí, I found your sister. She is safe.”

That fact made you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, relaxing in your seat. But your relief was cut short when you felt his hands on your shoulders.

“But it was no easy feat,” your shoulders slumped under his wide palms and thick fingers. The pressure made you burrow further into the leather chair with no hope of escaping. “lives were lost… for your fairytale rescue.”

Your breath hitched. The weight of his hands seemed to grow gradually. The fingers of his right hand toyed with the strap of your dress. From his perspective, Carlos could see into the lowcut dress, the tops of your breasts on display for his hungry eyes. You had to remind yourself they were all criminals… or else the guilt would eat you alive.

“I-I’m sorry for your loss…” you forced out. The weight wasn’t only physical but psychological too. Your father left you a debt, and you added to it by asking for a favor, now you owed Carlos Sainz more than two lives.

Carlos hummed, his thumb sliding up the back of your neck, gently pushing your head forward, seeing how pliable you were under him. His other hand was dangerously close to pushing off the strap of the dress off your shoulder.

The touch was making you more uncomfortable by the minute and forced your next words.

“Please, can I see my sister?” you whimpered, not able to take the pressure any longer.

The corner of Carlos’ mouth twisted up in a smirk and he squeezed you before taking a step back. He mentioned to one of the guards, who opened the door next to him and shouted something down the hall.

Your heart pounded against your ribcage but in a few seconds, your little sister appeared from around the corner. Before you knew it you were sprinting in her direction, enveloping her into a tight hug. She looked exhausted, dirty, and beyond scared but once she was in your arms, she relaxed, clinging to you.

Carlos watched in amusement, feeling a strange sense of nostalgia at the sight but he pushed it aside, as there was no time for softness.

Despite the need to take care of your sister immediately, you knew there was something you had to do first.

“Gracias, señor.” you replied, turning back to the man but you knew your words did little to repay him. His fingers caught your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his. Carlos looked you up and down, lingering on your chest before speaking. ”You’re free to go but remember… I didn’t do it for her, I did it for you, princesa.” The reminder was crushing, the intimate petname sending chills over your body. You would have stood there still had your little sister not squeezed your hand, her comfort more of a worry than the favor or two owed to the most dangerous man in the city.

“Sí, señor.” Your reply was firm, a bitter acknowledgment of his power over you.

The tone of your voice made Carlos smirk and his hold on your chin relaxed. He nodded next, letting you leave but the smugness with which he leaned back against his desk made you feel you weren’t as free as you had hoped.

Your sister and you were escorted outside the compound where the guards slammed the door behind you and you made your way home.

The following days were filled with dread. Your sister noticed you by the windows more often, on lookouts, not hiding your anxiety well.

“Why did you go to Sainz of all people?” she said to you one morning, making you furrow your brows in confusion.

Upon seeing that, she clarified. “You could have contacted the police, DEA…”

You felt anger brew in your stomach at her words.

“And how successful are they at getting hostages back? If Sainz hadn’t found you so quickly you could have been dead!” you snapped back, turning away from the window.

The way she flinched had you feeling guilty. She went through hell she barely told you about at the hands of the other cartel.

“Sainz was the only option…” You softened your tone and put a hand on her shoulder, which seemed to comfort her. She nodded, trying to understand even if you knew she had doubts about your decision.

The moment was interrupted by the chilling sound of revving motorcycles and you felt your heart drop. Turning back to the window, your eyes were met with a familiar sight — Carlos’ sicarios.

Your sister got up too and her voice broke through the barrage of sound.

“So you got me out and gotten yourself in, huh?”

want more patrón!Carlos? Lemme know in my ask box!!

2025 @ gokyrts . do not distribute or translate my work on other sites.

[taelophone]

✦ Teach Me ݁˖ ⋆˙⟡ — TA!Luigi Mangione x Reader ⋆⭒˚｡⋆ TWs: Pining . Sexual Tension . No Penetration . Smut . Power Play . Glasses on Luigi lol . Reader is kinda strange . Fingering . Kinda Mean Luigi . Overstimulation . ｡⋆ A/N: Sorry it took me so long I actually wasn't the biggest fan of this work. But I hope you enjoy it!

You could imagine that teaching was a tough job. The grading, the organization, teaching the same material at different levels day after day and hour by hour. Surely, the days would melt together, subjects and responsibilities sticking to each other and creating an unfortunate planning crisis.

That’s where the teaching assistant comes in. 

As you made your way into the lecture hall, you pep-talked your mind to brace yourself for a long, boring, and mentally draining speech that would last over an hour. At least you had some questions written down that you planned to ask Professor Harrison regarding the lesson.

But at least it was your final class today before you could crash into your room.

So when you waltzed into the lecture hall, scanning the room for your professor, you were immediately confronted with the realization that he…wasn’t there. Even when you took your seat, the metal feet of your chair dragged against the dull blue carpet, generating the only sound in the room full of silence.

The clock ticked, that nerve-wracking tick-tock for a whole three minutes. Two minutes left until the lesson started, the red seconds hand gliding across the clock as you thought about leaving. But then in came someone you’d never seen before.

He looked about your age, maybe even a smidge older as he waltzed in through the open doorway, his head tilted upward like he was the biggest in the room.

“Hey, guys. Harrison isn’t here, he had some family stuff to do, but I’ll probably be leading today’s discussion” he said, his strong and sculpted arms peering through the soft fabric of his maroon tee.

It was a conscious effort to not let your jaw clatter down onto the floor like a skeleton. Tall, muscular, incredibly well-kept, and graced with the strongest Italian genes to ever kiss the surface of the twenty-first century. 

“My name’s Luigi, I’m the new teaching assistant for Harrison, and my office hours are from four to seven-thirty.”

He smiled– the cute and content kind that left your heart squeezing with cuteness aggression and induced heart tremors. You stared directly through his eyes the best you could, following him with rapt attention that you seldom gave your real professor.

His voice; was a melancholic and deep hymn of firm knowledge that could mimic years of experience. He was tragically good and articulate with his words, subjects that you didn’t understand the first time untangling themselves in your mind to build clear pathways to the answer. In fact, you didn’t even need to ask the questions you had written down.

When he finished the lecture, gently closing his laptop and sitting atop the professor’s desk, he tapped his pen on the wooden surface repeatedly before turning to the room.

“Any questions? We have like…5 minutes left of class. Leave early, stay put, goof off, anything. As long as you’re not confused.” 

There was no way in hell you were gonna leave without so much as speaking to him. You gathered your things up, leaving your notebook full of questions and doodles down on the table before trotting your way down to where he sat.

“Questions?” He asked, his head tilted to the side slightly as he bit the little push button of his bright blue pen between his plush and pink lips.

“Yeah, sorry, I just need you to explain these to me in a little bit more depth,” you murmured, shooting him a breathy and nervous chuckle before handing him your small notebook.

He hummed, taking the notebook from you graciously before his onyx brown eyes darted across the bulleted questions and the little doodles on the edges of the white-lined paper. He chuckled, eyeing a particular drawing you did of a bunch of hearts and flowers in a vase.

“Pretty drawings, they’re very nice,” he nodded, leaning back to grab his notepad and quickly write down your questions on his own. “Alright, what’d you need help with specifically? What’s confusing you?”

You made up some excuse on just needing it to be explained in more detail, prompting him to pull up a chair next to the cherry-oak desk. You quickly sat down in front of him, listening to him carefully as he essentially re-explained the lesson all over again from start to finish.

“Wow thank you,” you smiled, letting out a particularly girlish laugh as you finished writing down key points you had already written earlier on a clean leaf of paper. “That makes a lot of sense, I was so confused earlier.”

“Glad I could help,” he murmured, returning your giddy and girly grin with a boyish and bright beam of his own. He watched as you swung your backpack strap over your left shoulder and headed out the door, giving you a quaint wave as you did so.

Holy shit. Holy shit. OH MY GOODNESS.

Poor you. Poor, poor you.

He was even cuter up close with his smooth and seemingly flawless skin. A perfectly tanned tone with hints of olive under his complexion. And god, not to mention his nose…it’s faces like that that make you wanna cook and clean all day.

“No, Kat, you’re not listening. He’s perfect, like ten out of ten no flaws,” you said while staring at your vanity, gently applying moisturizer to your face. Kat, on the other end of the FaceTime, only grimaced at you with furrowed brows, the only sliver of her face you could actually see.

“Okay…let’s not sleep with the TA…” she joked, chuckling just out of frame as she propped the camera up and slid on a green spa headband before taking out her contact lenses. “I haven’t met him yet I don’t think. When did he start working for Harrison?”

You paused, ceasing your hand movements across your face as you thought about it for a moment. “I dunno actually. We didn’t make small talk, I just wanted to hear him say anything to me.”

Kathy laughed, glaring at you momentarily with wide eyes and furrowed brows. “Oh you’re filthy,” she giggled, repeating her skincare steps as you finished up yours. You sighed, shaking your head in what should have been a shame if a giddy and amused grin didn’t find shelter on your face.

“Hear me out, I just-“

“No.”

You sighed yet again, heavier and less enthusiastic before picking up the phone again. By now the device had grown hot, your 3-hour-long girl talk proving aggravating to your phone's thinning patience and heat capacity. “Phone’s getting hot, girlie. I’m gonna go lay down and rethink life.” You murmured.

“Alright babes goodnight,” Kathy smiled, leaning forward over her own vanity to hang up the phone.

And with a deep exhale through your nose, you stood up from your stool and climbed into your soft bed. With the comforter up to your ribs and your legs crossed at the ankle, you stared up at the ceiling before letting drowsiness lull you to sleep.

As days went by and Luigi slowly became more and more present in Professor Harrison’s class, you felt yourself spending more time during lessons watching his every move. If you were lucky enough, Luigi would teach a class and then chat and socialize with your classmates.

Days had turned into weeks, and weeks rolled over into months. You had been to pretty much every single office hour, pretending to be behind on certain topics and playing a dangerous game of feigned catch-up just to sit at the desk with Luigi and let him reteach what you already know. At some point it was like child’s play, seeing how long you could dance around the bomb until it blew up into lovelorn smithereens.

And today you planned on it being no different. Front of the room, head straight, and leg-crossed at the ankles while you spaced out on your teaching assistant’s tantalizing hands. Oh, how darling they’d look wrapped around my neck instead, hurling me into oxygen-lacking delirium while he made me cry for being such a bad student. To prevent yourself from being any more provocative than you were already being, you lowered your eyes to the table in front of you.

The conversation around you continued on without you, vowels and consonants linking together in a pained effort to create muffled and static gibberish while you daydreamed about the man four feet in front of you.

“Yeah, no I get that…I don’t even know why I signed up to be a TA sometimes I still have my own things to work on,” he said, fidgeting with the end of his light-blue collared shirt. “I actually have a paper I’m supposed to be working on.”

He must’ve noticed how quiet you were. Your arms folded across your chest as you leaned and slouched all the way back in your chair, maybe the way your eyes were trained onto the table in front of you. But either way, he made his way over.

He tapped on your table, once, and then twice to grab your attention before holding up a thumb and tilting his head to the side. The question was silent, but loud and clear as you nodded your head.

“You okay?”

Upon seeing your nonverbal confirmation, he mirrored your action and made his way back over to Harrison’s desk. The sounds of chatter and rushed packing filled the room, watching as people gravitated toward one another and began preparing to file out one by one.

“Alright guys, have a good rest of your day. If anyone asks you were here the whole period. If you need help or anything or just wanna chat, stick back” he said. 

If you weren’t staring at him so hard, you would have missed it. His eyes flickered over in your direction for a fraction of a second, knocking the wind right out of your lungs.

An invitation. One that you could easily deny or accept without feeling pressured or guilty later. A clever man, he was, something that you caught onto very early into him easing into your days. You learned that he was a computer science engineer, which immediately made sense with the way he detangled the wires in your brain.

Your legs carried you over to the desk before you could even think of a plan, placing yourself before him like he called you with some imaginary whistle.

“I knew you’d notice. Good catch” he beamed, straightening his back a little bit as he leaned his back hips against the edge of the desk. “You seemed spaced today, are you doing okay? You’re usually more…active.”

“Oh yeah I’m okay, I was just a little tired today,” you replied, giving him a reassuring nod. You were lying through your teeth, and a part of you felt like he could possibly sense it with the way he wordlessly stared down at you for a moment before nodding slowly; hesitantly.

“Get some sleep, okay? You can always come to me if you need help or don’t understand something. I’ll try to explain” He nodded, giving you a boyish smile with a light pink dusted on the apples of his cheeks.

“Thanks,” you said, shifting your weight to one leg. “I’ll probably come by during office hours.

I want help reviewing my notes.”

“Nice. I’m gonna be back in here, but I’ll probably come in a bit earlier than four so I can…grade quizzes,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as the realization slowly sunk in.

“Oh, well good luck,” you said, giving him an apologetic smile. 

He nodded, a deep and exasperated sigh reverberating from his lungs as a pained smile crept onto his face. He ran his hands through his coco curls, giving you a thumbs up and watching you exit out the door.

You and Luigi’s relationship, or for better words connection, was strictly professional. You barely saw him outside of the days when he wasn’t assisting in Harrison’s class, and if you did happen to catch glimpses of him on campus he was always preoccupied with something else.

Strictly academic and professional.

Right?

What a lack of judgment. The red hot sin and embarrassment that would crowd Luigi’s face whenever you stood too near. He felt almost dirty in a sense; after all, it wasn’t entirely ethical to crush on your “bosses” students.

But when your eyes honed in on him like the only object in the room, picking him apart piece by piece and ripping away each thread of his clothes with your eyes, it was hard not to get a little warm on the nose. Day by day and piece by piece, he could feel himself getting sidetracked with your memory.

So when he leaned back in his chair, staring down at the papers he had only halfway penetrated with red ink and comments, he thought of you bouncing back into the room with your not-so-secret lies of confusion.

The smooth sound of pen ink gliding across paper filled the room, scribbles of minus three and half credit echoing subtly through the empty classroom. He murmured under his breath as he wrote, flipping back and forth 

between the rubric and the long pages of text as his eyes slowly began to glaze over.

There was fire burning every inch of his body; lustful and jeering in his ears as he did everything in his power to repent against the thoughts of how gorgeous you would look crying on this desk while you panted from overstimulation. The scandal…the pleasure. The taboo of the situation left him with a bitter and tangy taste on the tip of his tongue as he swallowed.

thump-thump-thump-thump

Your shoes patted the cheap carpet halls as you made your way back into the class, locking your eyes onto a hunched-over Luigi with a pen between his pointer and middle finger. Back and forth, he flicked the pen repeatedly as he took deep breaths in a last-ditch effort to self-soothe.

“Hey,” you murmured, placing your bag down next to the desk and your notebook on the opposite end of his stack of papers. “How’s grading going?”

His eyes jetted upwards, locking onto yours with a small smile. “Horrible!” He started with a contrastingly happy grin. “I’ve hated every second of it. How are you doing this afternoon?”

You stifled a chuckle, pulling your mouth down from the shameless smirk that had snuck onto your expression. Dry, dry-humored man.

“I’m doing okay! Been working on my notes. I suck at taking them, I feel like I never know what’s important to write” you mused, flipping through your notebook until the most recent lecture notes came into view.

You peered over the pages, trying to see if you could see your own answers under his inspection. Your eyes darted over the pages, snooping around names and numbers before he slowly shifted his hand to cover the scores. He let out a small huff of a chuckle, clicking his pen closed before setting the stack of papers to the side.

“Did I do okay? You’re giving me anxiety, Mangione” you joked, pulling up a chair in front of the desk.

He covered his mouth, failing to prevent a smile from creeping on his face as he giggled a little. 

Oh fuck.

“You passed, but you’re one of like…five who did by an actual hair. I actually graded yours first cuz I knew you’d be stopping by again. We can go over it now if you want! Unless you wanna do notes first?” He offered, flicking his long and skinny fingers through the many many pieces of paper until he plucked out yours.

You thought about it for a moment, thinking it over in your head. It was kind of hard to focus on anything with him sitting so close…those glossy black-framed glasses sitting just right on his face. And oh my god his slender and large hands—

“Yeah, can we go over the quiz first?” You blurted, leaning to the side of your chair to retrieve your pencil case from the front compartment of your backpack.

“Sure,” he said, placing the quiz in front of you for you to review. 

You looked it over, thanking whatever divine force had your back that day for somehow clearing a path for you to even pass this quiz. You were surprised that some of your answers were even correct, shit, you might as well have said you took the quiz with your eyes closed. That’s how gone you were.

“I’m not gonna lie…the quiz was kind of unfair,” he started, his eyebrows shooting up momentarily in amused disbelief. “I wrote maybe 50 percent of this, so I’ll help you with what I wrote, but I cannot help you on Harrison’s part. Sometimes I think we don’t even speak the same language.”

You nodded, letting out a deep sigh before flipping the packet back to the front page and handing it back to him. You knew then and there you were gonna be there for a while, even if your intentions were to just pop by and review fake notes. At least you were spending time together!

He broke everything down piece by piece, watching as you jotted notes down in your spiral notebook and wrote down little tidbits of info along the way. And when he was done, he took a sip of water, leaned forward, and gazed over what you had written in your notebook.

“Huh. Weird, I thought you said you couldn’t take notes?” He chuckled, standing up and walking around the desk to lean over your shoulder. You could feel the warmth radiating off of him; comforting and affectionate like a man raised by gentle hands.

“Two birds with one stone” he chuckled, the sound echoing in the shell of your ear as you fought the urge to squeal and panic like a child denied their lifeline of sugar. “Don’t worry, I’ll still help you go over them.”

“I feel like I did better cuz you watched me take them,” you chuckled, instantly relaxing as he made his way to the long whiteboard, popping open a red marker as he began to jot down the topic, and a few empty bullet points under. 

“So this is how I take notes…excuse my handwriting,” he said, jotting down the main point, key details, and miscellaneous info.

He was so shaky. His hands were like a humbug and his mind was taunting his sanity. Your eyes trailed after him, pausing to linger on a specific feature of his before following him again.

It drove him up a wall. He wasn’t even registering the conversation happening between you two as he gave pointers and red-ink examples.

“Oh I have another question,” you blurted, now leaning against the front of the desk to see the board a little closer. 

“Yeah? What’s up?” He answered, turning around and leaning against the whiteboard.

“What’s your type? You seem like you like smart girls.” 

He paused, putting the cap on the marker before jutting his bottom lip out slightly. He pretended to think about it, processing your bold statement. His heart thumped in his ears, loud and fervent as arteries in his muscles threatened to pop.

He made his way over to the side of the desk, placing his hands down on the oak and leaning forward. He was so close, but oh so far. The once dark and charcoal-brown eyes revealed themselves to be a deep hazel, glimmering with satisfaction and authority.

“Well, I don’t think I have a type per se,” he said, adjusting his readers with the knuckle of his pointer finger. “I just like women with goals and a strong sense of self,” he smiled.

“I have goals,” you murmured, glancing over his features with a newfound feeling of hunger. 

“Do you, now?” He mused, tilting his head to the side as he slowly rounded the corner of the desk to stand in front of you.

By now it was beginning to get dark outside. The ember-like orange glow of the various lamps around the room, and the back lights gave their best effort to keep the dimly lit room visible. His heavy hands came to rest next to each of your thighs, the palms of his hands flat on the smooth desk while he stared down at you.

“You’re…adorable” he smiled, propping you up on the desk and watching you closely.

Darkness kissed your features, the soft and lively look of your skin spurred his desire to ravage you whole like an animal. He stood between the gap in your legs, knowing that he wasn’t going to make the first move regardless. He knew he’d lose a lot of respect from Harrison if he kept going, and he knew that you had a lot to lose by sleeping with him.

Fair trade.

He would have expected you to kiss him, make a comment about his glasses, or even squeal and say you can’t do it anymore. But what he didn’t expect —

Was for you to jet your hips forward, rolling them teasingly against his half-hard bulge. His brows pinched together at the fleeting friction, tingles of pleasure shooting through him for a fraction of a second. His eyes were glued onto where you briefly connected before they shot back up to stare into yours, an even mix of disgruntled desperation.

“You…you’re very bold. Very very bold,” he chuckled, gathering your face between his thumb and the remainder of his fingers, squishing the fat of your cheeks until your teeth resisted his strength.

You smiled, a squished and crooked one as he mashed his lips against yours. A brutal, teeth-and-tongue-filled fight for dominance occurred in your mouths as spit and sin were exchanged on this very desk. Horny and rampant like untouched virgins left alone after hours.

You whined in his mouth when he pushed you back, shoving your back flat against the desk and sending papers floating to the floor with the grace of a mother swan. You had no time to adjust to the way he began to consume you, coaxing every meek and subtle sound of pleasure from your mouth as he slid his knee between your legs to nudge up against your achy cunt.

He pulled away, taking a brief intermission for some much-needed air as he slid his readers off the strong bridge of his nose. Red with fury, and pink with lust, his cheeks and nose flared in the faint orange light as he basked in the way your chest rose and fell with each heavy breath.

“Words, c’mon. I know you have them…” he urged, his knee growing more insistent at your crotch, plucking strings of moans and whines from your orchestral lungs.

“Please…need you so bad,” you panted, your hands coming up to your face to conceal the way your eyes threatened to roll to the back of your head.

“I know you need me, that’s why you came to office hours!” He joked with a patronizing grin, his large hand linking around your wrists to pull them away from your face.

“It’s not funny, I want you inside of me!” You whined, fighting the urge to throw a fit when he gave you an imitation of a sympathetic click of his tongue and a condescending little “awww.”

He chuckled, lowering his knee back to stationary before hooking his hand into your jeans, glancing up at you for confirmation. He let out a scowl when you only nodded.

“I didn’t teach you for months for you to not use all the many words I taught you” he warned, slowly withdrawing his hand from your jeans.

“No, no it’s ok! Take them off please” you said, immediately grabbing his wrist to prevent him from withdrawing his hand from you.

He nodded, undoing the button on your jeans and sliding them down to your lower thighs. He took his time fidgeting around with your puffy clit through the cotton of your panties, up and down with the pad of his thumb before experimenting with small and tight circles.

He listened to the way your moans grew in volume, ending in shrill whimpers the longer he teased the sensitive pearl. He chuckled, an amused smile spreading up to his face.

“Alright, I’m sorry, I’m being mean” he giggled, pulling your panties to the side and toying around with the sticky and glossy wetness that glossed your pretty folds.

His middle and ring fingers pushed into you slowly, in and out with languid and almost practiced strokes to that spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Cosmos aligned, universes collided, and galaxies crumbled before you as he learned the astronomy of your body.

“So tense…you’re never gonna take me if you keep being this tight” he chuckled, picking up the pace with his fingers. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to loosen you up a little. I don’t wanna hurt my favorite student.”

You couldn’t understand why he was apologizing then. With his fingers plunging in and out of you so deliciously, the sloshy and obscene noises mingling with your moans of euphoria ushered any thoughts or coherency in one ear and out the other. There was no way you were hearing him right now, and he knew that.

“Stay with me,” he urged, his free hand seeking refuge over your hipbone. “You’re too pretty to have such an empty mind…but don’t worry I’ll teach you again.”

You tightened around his fingers, his knuckles prodding and pleasuring your gummy walls as you attempted to close your legs around his wrist, much to Luigi’s dismay.

“No, don’t do that. You wanted this. You wanted this for who knows how long, and you’re gonna take everything I give you, okay?” He said, the hand that once rested on your hip coming down to hold your knee, prying your legs open.

You whined, your vision going white with snow as your breath caught in your throat— barely hushed cries of his name rushing from your lips as you soaked his knuckles in milky white ecstasy.

“Just like that…mhm, look at me?” he purred, relishing in the dazed and confused expression that washed over your features. But he wasn’t slowing down.

His fingers were still pistoning in and out of you, and the overstimulation began to bite and nip at your sensitive and puffy cunt. It was deliciously painful, tears pricking and rolling down your cheeks as your lips parted in loud moans. You attempted to scoot back, push his hand away, anything. It just wasn’t working.

“Don’t run from it…I’m not done,” he commanded, holding under your leg to keep you tugged in place. “So pretty…” he purred, his eyes transfixed on the sight of your weeping cunt begging for more while you begged for less.

It was like he was hyperfixated on your moans. His ears pressed to hear more like you weren’t directly in front of him, listening carefully to every single sound you made.

You cried, twitched, came, and writhed as he carried on for what felt like hours. Two turned three, three turned four, and four pulled into five as you felt your eyes completely cross and roll into the back of your mind. So far into the dark depths of pleasure, you could still faintly see the ghost of a smirk on Luigi’s lips in the back of your mind.

Any form of coherency was beginning to leave you as the painful euphoria clouded your mind and squeezed the oxygen out of your body. He was everywhere, cooing and. mocking in your ear as he reduced you to your simplest form. Babbles of "I can't take it" and pained whined as he took what he wanted from you.

“I know, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he purred, an unapologetic grin on his face as he coaxed you into one final orgasm. “I’m done, I’m done. I promise.”

He laughed, this one lacking his usual boyish charm and innocence. This one was mean but warm and loving, like watching a nostalgic home video. He watched you, twitchy and sensitive as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you. 

“Good girl, you did so well for me. C’mon, get up. We’re not finished with your notes. If you can show me you understand the material I’ll let you get all of me.”

[touchyluffy]

You were on watch duty when you heard his sniffles.

Looking down towards the sound, your heart shatters as you saw the straw hat angled backward as he looked towards the full moon, his red sleeve of his shirt coming up to wipe his tears, his hands gripping the balcony of the Sunny tightly.

At first, you're not sure if you should make your presence known, he came out here to be alone after all. But that thought passes quickly as you heard more of his shuttered breaths, you found yourself clamorying down the rope latter to get to him.

Luffy hears you coming behind him and breaks his gaze from the moon, for a moment the shock of you rushing towards him seems to break him from his sorrows. His face was still contorted in pain, his nose was running, but his eyes were wide and curious for what your next move would be. You didn't know either. For a moment, you could only stare at him.

You'd never seen your captain like this. He's normally so confident, strong, and goofy. He's your leader, your guide, your stability in the hardest of times. But now, he looked like a young boy, just a child. A child with his heart breaking. Pain knotted in your stomach when you saw him try to hide his tears, coming to the edge of the Sunny in the middle of the night where no one would see him. Zoro's words from so long ago suddenly rang in your head, "if you falter now, who can we trust?"

You stopped in front of him. The moment of shock passed and Luffy hid his face behind his straw hat, shielding his tears. You frowned, raising your hand and gently push the straw hat up further atop his head . His tears keep falling, his frown deepens, your heart aches. You gently wipe the tears from where they fall down his cheeks.

"I had a dream about Ace." He says and it's all he needs to say. 

You open your arms for him and he dives in them. Somehow your knees had given out as you held each other, your cheek resting against Luffy's forehead as he cried into your shirt. His body shakes, his straw hat falls to the ship's wooden floor, his shuttered breaths disrupt the quiet night. You hope he cannot hear your heart breaking.

Your hands move in slow circles across his back, your hair falling down over his shoulder, your knees bending at his waist, trying to shield him from the world with every part of your body. You whisper comforting words into his ear, hoping the words go directly into the hole in his heart that his brother left behind.

You two stay in that position for a long time, even after his shuttered breaths become even and your shirt starts to dry. He still hides his face in your chest, you still rub circles across his back and whisper reassuring words. Minutes pass by and the stars in the night glitter above the Sunny.

Eventually Luffy slowly lifts head from your chest, looking you in the eyes and giving you a smile. A smile that immediately fills your heart with all the love, strength, and friendship he's shown you since you've known him. You can't help but smile back at him, wiping the last tear trail from his cheek. He sits up in a more upright position and thanks you. You shake your head, picking up the straw hat off the floor. Holding it in your hands gently, Luffy looks from the hat to you and back again.

"Don't hide, Luffy," you say, "Don't hide." From me, goes unspoken.

You pass him the straw hat and he puts it securely on his head, back where it belongs. He stands up and offers a hand to help you up, you take it and stand before him again. Your hands stay clasped together. The warmth of his hand radiating through your body. His free hand points towards the moon excitedly, pulling you closer towards the edge of the Sunny. Your shoulder is touching his.

"Ace loved the moon." He says looking back at you, "Wanna stay out here with me for awhile?"

[yunniverse]

Can’t Get Rid of You

౨ৎ PAIRING— university student!jeong yunho x university student!reader

౨ৎ GENRE— academic rivals to lovers, angst, fluff, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, fluff, yunho is rude at times, but so is reader

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 4.9k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— both you and yunho are chosen to attend the same conference, staying in a local hotel, only there’s only one room, and you both seemingly hate each other

౨ৎ A/N— it’s here!! i’m sorry it took so long for me to write, but i hope you all still enjoy it and it lives up to expectations!! thank you so much for your interest and lmk what you think <3

“Mind if I sit here?”

Looking up, you’re almost in disbelief at who you see.

“Wha-” you stutter, but he rolls his eyes, taking the seat anyway. “Excuse me-“

“Take it up with the flight attendant. This is my seat.” Yunho responds, a far too cheeky smirk on his face.

“And why do you have a seat right next to me?” you ask, frowning, as you move your stuff so he doesn’t kick it or sit on it.

“Because we’re from the same school and going to the same conference. I’m sure you know that the university paid for our tickets, unless you’re that dumb,” he responds, giving you a sideways look before putting in his AirPods.

“Are you going to the Tokyo conference?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Are you deaf or did you not hear when I just told you we’re going to the same conference?” Yunho replies, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“Wow, rude,” you roll your eyes, settling back into your seat, jamming your own earbuds in your ears, just as the plane starts to takeoff. This is going to be a long weekend.

Dragging your suitcase behind you, you begrudgingly follow Yunho into the fairly nice hotel the university had booked for you to stay in over the weekend. He leads the way to the front desk, where he gets the receptionist’s attention. “I have a booking from Seoul National University.”

She types on her keyboard, the keys clicking as she searches. “Names?”

“Jeong Yunho,” he responds, and, before you can say your own name, he adds. “And Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Are you both together?” the receptionist gestures to you and Yunho, making you glance at Yunho too.

“No,” you respond, shaking your head.

She frowns, “Are you both from the same university?”

“Yes…” Yunho replies hesitantly. “Is there an issue?”

“Seoul National University only booked one room,” the lady informs both of you, making your heart sink.

“Are you sure?” you ask, biting your lip.

“Positive. Would you still like to take the room or ask the university first?” she asks, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

“We’ll take it,” Yunho sighs, making you look at him in shock, as the receptionist nods and types on the keyboard before passing Yunho the room key card. With a nod to her, he starts to move again, clearly expecting you to follow.

“Yunho!” you hiss, rushing to follow him as he heads to the elevator. “I am not sharing a room with you all weekend.”

“Or…” he turns sharply to look at you as you almost collide with his chest at the abrupt stop. He bends down a little to be at your height. “You could grow up and realize that the school will take all weekend just to fix the room error and you’re going to have to get used to the idea of living with me for a weekend because it’s the best we’re going to do unless you want to pay for your own expensive room.”

Your mouth snaps shut at his reprimand, even though you really want to fight back. You know it would be fruitless anyway.

“Good. Now, I’m exhausted, so let’s go find the room, yeah?” he raises his eyebrows, expecting you to agree.

“Whatever,” you grumble, hating that he’s right. You bite your tongue to keep from making an additional comment about his character.

“Good girl.”

Your head snaps up, your mouth dropping open slightly, but he’s already walking off toward the elevator again. With a sharp glare at the back of his head, you yank your suitcase along with you as you follow him.

After he unlocks the room, the lock making a clicking sound as the room key works, he pushes the door open, dragging his suitcase with him as he enters the room.

“So let’s get this straight,” you start, pulling your suitcase into the room before sitting on the edge of the bed. “You got chosen to come to the same conference?”

“It’s not that deep,” Yunho responds, already setting up some of his stuff. “If you’d read the flier for the conference, you’d have known that up to four could have been chosen from our university.”

“I read the flier, but why’d you choose this one?” you respond, exasperated.

“Why’d you choose it?” he snaps, looking up at you from his spot crouched in front of his suitcase on the floor.

“Because it made the most sense for my major and I didn’t want to wait until fall to meet potential employers,” you reply confidently.

“I chose it for the same reason,” he retaliates, setting his phone down on the bedside table and plugging it into the wall charger he brought. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you glare at him, squeezing the handle of your suitcase. “And you’re not even smart! You’re just naturally good.”

“Hit a nerve, did I?” Yunho chuckles before gesturing to your suitcase. “You better unpack soon or you’ll be awake all night. And you’re just jealous because I don’t have to work as hard as you to be good.”

“Whatever. And I’m getting to it,” you roll your eyes. “And besides, I’m leaving to get something to eat in a minute anyway.”

“So am I,” he replies making you sigh in annoyance. “Let’s just go together. It’ll be easier.”

“I don’t want to go with—”

“Does ramen work for you?” Yunho cuts you off, looking at his phone to see restaurants near the hotel.

“I just said that I—”

“Good!” he responds, his brown eyes meeting yours, daring you to argue further. “Be ready to leave in ten minutes.”

“Yunho!” you call after him as he enters the bathroom, closing the door in your face. With a frustrated huff, you sit back down on the bed, fully aware you’re being childish about the whole situation, but too invested in being annoyed to care.

Exactly ten minutes later, you’re sitting on the bed again, after having unpacked a little, scrolling on your phone.

Yunho exits the bathroom, looking fresher and having changed clothes.

“Did you shower in there?” you ask. “You know other people need the bathroom too.”

“I didn’t shower,” he rolls his eyes, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I just changed out of my airport clothes and washed my face.”

“Well you better be prepared to wait another ten minutes before leaving to get dinner because I need more time,” you retort, grabbing your own change of clothes and heading to the bathroom.

“Take your time then,” Yunho responds, plopping down onto the bed and grabbing his phone.

“Or you could just leave and I’ll get something myself,” you respond, a last ditch effort to get him to leave you alone.

“Nah, I’ll wait. I’m in no rush,” he replies, much to your dismay.

“Of course you aren’t,” you mumble under your breath as you close the bathroom door a little harder than necessary. Why’d Yunho have to be naturally smart enough to come to this conference? He doesn’t even try!

Roughly fifteen minutes later, you exit the bathroom, slipping into some shoes as you sit on the edge of the bed again.

“Took you long enough,” Yunho’s voice greets you as you sigh.

“I gave you fair warning,” you reply, grabbing your purse as Yunho slips his shoes back on.

“Let’s go then, slow poke,” he teases as you follow him out of the room.

It takes about ten minutes to get to the ramen place, following the GPS on Yunho’s phone. It’s a quaint little place that actually looks really cozy. The bell dings overhead as Yunho pushes the door open and you both walk in.

The employees greet you as you enter, Yunho quickly snagging one of the tables near the window. For a moment, you debate sitting somewhere else, but you see that the other tables are pretty full, so you sigh, sitting across from Yunho.

“Is it that much of a struggle for you to get along with me for one single weekend until the conference is over?” Yunho asks, his voice laced with mock sweetness.

“Well it isn’t easy, that’s for sure,” you grumble.

“Well, we’re representing our university at the conference tomorrow so get it together, okay? I’m sure I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to make a fool of myself tomorrow, hm?” Yunho responds, and you know that he’s right.

“Fine,” you reply through gritted teeth. “I’ll try, but only if you do too.”

“I already have been, princess,” he winks cheekily, knowing you already warned him about the domineering nickname earlier.

It takes all the restraint you have not to reach across the table and punch his perfect face.

About an hour later, you enter the hotel room again, exhausted and ready for a shower and sleep. “Dibs on the first shower,” you tell him, already grabbing your stuff.

“Be my guest,” Yunho shrugs, gesturing to the bathroom door as you walk through it, closing it and locking it behind you.

Deciding not to wash your hair tonight, you start the shower, still taking your time with cleaning yourself. When you finish, you shut the water off and hop out, slipping into your silk pajamas, brushing your teeth, and doing your skincare.

Yunho is waiting when you finally walk out, his head lifting as he hears you open the bathroom door. “Done?” he asks, to which you simply nod, allowing him to walk past you and into the bathroom.

With a sigh, you sit down on the bed, grabbing your phone and checking your messages. About twenty minutes later, the bathroom door opens, a small amount of steam seeping out as Yunho emerges, shirtless, wearing grey sweatpants slung low on his hips.

You have to forcefully avert your eyes to keep from staring at his slightly defined abs for too long, even though you have to admit his pale skin is gorgeous. Shaking your head, you force your mind out of the gutter. He’s your rival!

Surprisingly, Yunho doesn’t call you out on your ogling, choosing instead to walk over to his suitcase, crouching down, as he searches for something. “You didn’t happen to see a grey hoodie over there, did you?” he asks, looking up at you.

You look down at the bed, spotting it under the blanket you’d thrown onto the bed. “This one?” you hold it up, watching as his face lights up and he nods.

“Yeah, thanks,” Yunho replies, offering you a small smile as he walks over, reaching out to grab it. Your eyes widen as he leans over you a little, his chest nearly directly in front of your face. You swallow, feeling heat creeping up your neck as Yunho finally grabs the hoodie, his fingers brushing against yours as you release the soft fabric from your grip.

Blinking as he pulls back, you snap yourself out of it. “No problem,” you respond, watching out of the corner of your eye as Yunho slips the hoodie over his head before plopping down on the bottom of the bed, phone in hand again.

“So, sleeping arrangement?” he asks after a few minutes of silence, setting his phone down and stretching, his hoodie riding up a little to reveal a sliver of skin.

“Uh, what?”

“How are we going to sleep tonight?” he repeats, slightly exasperated.

“Closing our eyes, I guess,” you shrug, setting your own phone down.

Yunho rolls his eyes, nudging your foot with his hand, making you pull it up closer to your body, wide eyed. “You know what I mean, dummy.”

“Well, obviously, I get the bed,” you respond. “I’m the girl.”

“Oh, and girls can’t sleep on couches?” Yunho asks, raising an eyebrow.

“We can, but it’s polite of the man to let the woman take the bed, is it not?”

“Maybe it’s polite of most men, but this man is too tall to sleep on that couch,” he points at the rather small and short couch that is pushed against the wall on the opposite side of the room.

“And this woman gets cramps if I sleep in a weird position,” you argue, crossing your arms.

“But my legs will hang off the end!” Yunho retorts.

“And my back will cramp and I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!”

“Fine, you know what? I’ll be the bigger person and sleep on the couch. It’s late and I’d rather not argue with you again,” Yunho sighs, standing up as he grabs one of the pillows and a blanket.

“Wait, no, I can be the bigger person and sleep on the couch,” you start to move, suddenly feeling a little bad for making him sleep there.

“No, I’m clearly the bigger person here,” Yunho chuckles, gesturing to his height. “And like I said, I don’t want to argue anymore. So let’s just sleep, yeah?”

“Fine,” you frown, reaching over to turn the light off, bathing the room in darkness, except for the moonlight filtering in through the hotel room window.

About an hour later, you’re still awake, tossing and turning, realizing suddenly that you’re actually worried about the conference tomorrow. What if the presentation you have prepared is horrible and they all laugh at you? Or what if Yunho’s is better and he gets all the recognition and job offers?

You glance over at the couch he’s sleeping on, seeing his legs hanging off the end just as he’d said, and you suddenly feel like a horrible human being for making him sleep like that all night when he’s probably equally as nervous about the conference. “Yunho?”

“Hm?” a sleepy hum greets you as you hear rustling.

“You awake?” you ask, whispering.

“Yeah, why?” he responds, his voice a little deeper, thick with exhaustion.

“Are you sure you don’t want the bed?” you ask, hoping he won’t react strongly to your offer.

“I said you could have it,” he sighs deeply, and you can practically hear the annoyance in his tone.

“I know, but I’m clearly more qualified to take the couch,” you respond softly, surprising even yourself with your gentle tone. Suddenly, you think of something. “Or we could… share the bed?”

“No,” he replies, turning over on the couch, facing away from you.

“But you’re clearly exhausted and so am I,” you frown. “I won’t try anything, I promise.”

“Why would I think you would?” Yunho replies, laughing a little.

“I dunno,” you blush, but at least he can’t see the color on your cheeks in the dark. “I’m just trying to reassure you-“

“You know what?” Yunho sits up a little. “I’ll take you up on the offer. This couch hurts.”

You watch as he stands up, stretching before making his way over to the bed, trying not to trip on your suitcase as he steps over it. “I’ll sleep on top of the sheets, though.”

“Deal,” you nod, moving over to let him onto the bed, laughing slightly at his relieved sigh as he lays down. “Just stay on your side, okay?”

“Noted,” he responds, and you can practically hear the grin on his face. “She doesn’t like cuddling.”

“Not with you at least,” you snort in response, rolling over to face away from him. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, princess.” This time, you don’t even feel the urge to correct him.

Your eyes slowly open as they adjust to the dim light filtering into the room. Feeling warmth to your left, you let your eyes drift closed again as you unconsciously shift closer to it, your face coming in contact with something hard and warm. With a start, your eyes open and you look up to see just grey fabric in your vision.

“Huh?” you pull away, seeing that it’s Yunho’s hoodie your face is pressed into. You quickly sit up, making sure he’s still asleep, his eyes closed and his face peaceful, before you look down, seeing you’re literally in the middle of the bed. How could you go against your own rule and not stay on your side of the bed?

All you can do is hope he was too deep in sleep to notice. You quietly and carefully slip out of the bed and grab your clothes for the day out of your suitcase, heading to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

By the time you get out, Yunho is awake and sipping some coffee. “‘Morning,” he greets you with a nod and a small smirk.

“Good morning,” you reply, acting as causal as you can as you go to your suitcase.

“‘No cuddles’, huh?”

You grit your teeth, having half expected this. “It won’t happen again.”

“If it does, I’ll know you lied,” Yunho responds, his tone teasing as he stands up, heading to the bathroom. But before he closes the door, he adds, “And for the record? I didn’t mind.”

His words leave you confused more than anything else as you shake your head, getting back to what you were doing, needing to go over your PowerPoint again before it’s time to present at the conference.

Hours later, when it’s finally your turn to present at the conference, you walk up to the stage, your never making your hands shake. As you start, your nerves slowly dissipate, until disaster strikes. You click the little remote, but the slideshow isn’t playing. Glancing around the room, you give them a nervous smile.

“One moment please…”

Frantically, you press the button, looking at the IT team for help just before the whole computer shuts down.

With a frown, you catch Yunho’s eyes, and he looks concerned. Mustering your courage, you try to salvage the presentation as best you can. “Where was I? Oh um… I think it would really help because… um…”

Your brain feels like it’s malfunctioning and your face is on fire as you try to piece together your thoughts, when you realize. The computer wasn’t doing this for anyone else all day.

Why’d it choose you? Your eyes meet Yunho’s again and it clicks in your head. He sabotaged it. This morning, you left your computer turned on while you went to shower and he must have done something to it.

Holding back tears, you rush off the stage, completely humiliated. You’re so hysterical that you don’t notice Yunho following you out.

You notice him as you turn the corner, hearing him following you as you rush out of the huge conference room, hurrying down the hallway, trying to hold back tears.

“Wait!” Yunho calls out, catching up to you as he grabs your arm, making you whip around on him.

“Why are you acting like you care?! I just spoiled all my chances of ever making it into an elite corporation!” you cry, tears pricking your vision as you move to lean against the wall.

Yunho frowns, taking a step closer to you, “I never said I don’t care. You said that. You’re the one keeping up this ‘rivalry’ like you think there’s something wrong with both of us being smart! You know, in freshman year, I saw how hard you worked and I actually wanted to be your friend! It’s true I don’t have to try as hard, but I still care!”

Your head snaps up as you look at him, really look at him, for what feels like the first time. Your voice is shaky as you ask, “What?”

He steps closer still, “You’re the one making a big thing out of both of us being the smartest at the university and getting into all the prestigious programs together. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you… I mean it. I’ve never wished you’d fail so I could succeed.”

You notice the way his voice softens as he speaks, his brown eyes flicking across your face, trying to gauge your reaction and emotions.

“So you didn’t sabotage my presentation?” you ask, sniffling as you look up at him.

He’s taken aback for a moment, seemingly shocked that you’d even think that before he gently places his hands on your elbows, his warm hands effectively getting you to look up at him, “No, I’d never do that to you. I know how hard you’ve worked because you’re just as good, if not better, than me. What happened today was purely a technical issue and then you clammed up out there when it didn’t go as planned.”

“So, you’re positive you didn’t tamper with it?”

“I didn’t.”

Silence follows as the two of you stand together, your eyes searching his, looking for a shred of proof that he could be lying.

Finding none, you release a shaky sigh before suddenly throwing your arms around his neck, standing on your tippy toes to bury your face in the crook of his neck, finally breaking completely as you sob quietly.

He freezes for a moment, taken aback, but he slowly returns the embrace, trying to comfort you as his hand gently moving to cradle the back of your head, his other resting on your back. “Shh,” he soothes, gently rubbing your back in a soothing motion. “It happens.”

“What? Clamming up completely in front of all my potential employers?” you let out a self deprecating laugh, sniffling.

“Well that’s part of it,” Yunho chuckles softly. “But I mean the computer freezing on you. You couldn’t control that, could you?”

“I could control how I reacted, though,” you frown, pulling away from the impromptu hug. “And I reacted horribly. I crumbled under pressure.”

“You’re young and inexperienced,” Yunho responds, reasoning with you. “I think they’ll take that into account when deciding who to hire. Do you not think it’s impressive enough that you’re in your junior year of college and already got accepted to come to this conference anyway? Do you not think they’ll take that into account too?”

Sighing, you realize he’s right. “Maybe?”

“You don’t sound convinced,” Yunho laughs softly, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re smart, mature, and you’re pretty easy on the eyes if I do say so myself.”

You blush slightly, “You’re just saying that…”

“I’m not,” he shakes his head, squeezing your sides gently. “I’m completely serious.”

“Okay,” you respond softly. “I believe you… even though we’re supposed to hate each other.”

“You said that, not me,” Yunho laughs.

“I can’t believe I spent two of my years of college avoiding you like the plague because I thought you hated me,” you rub your nose, sighing.

He gives you a half smile, “We can make up for it now, though, can’t we?”

“I suppose.”

“And you know what?” Yunho starts, his smile growing.

“What?” you ask curiously.

“There’ll be other conferences, other chances to impress those tycoons,” he replies, bending down a little to look you in the eyes.

You gasp suddenly, your hand moving to cover your mouth, “Yunho! You’re missing your presentation! You’re supposed to be presenting in five minutes!”

“If you screwed yours up, so did I,” Yunho laughs. “Our university will just have to pass this time around, yeah?”

“Yunho…” your hands lift to grip his shoulders. “Please go present. Do it for me? Please?”

“Are you serious? You want me to?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing. “But why?”

“Because you’ve been kind to me for almost this whole trip, and the times you weren’t were my fault. So please, you deserve this,” you beg him.

“We deserve this,” he responds, his hand slipping into yours, intertwining your fingers, making you look down at your hand clasped in his before looking back up at his smiling face. “We’ll do it together.”

“What?” you’re shocked, confused.

“You heard me,” Yunho starts tugging on your hand. “We’ll present together. You’ll make up for your mess up, and I’ll guide you, okay?”

“For real?” you ask, a small smile growing on your face as you let him guide you back toward the conference room.

“For real.”

The presentation ends with applause from everyone in the room, and you’re beaming, a smile you can’t get rid of on your face as you and Yunho exit the stage.

Different employers talk to you for a while before they finally let you both go, exhausted yet pleased with how you’d done.

As soon as you’re out of sight from the crowd, you throw your arms around Yunho again in a tight hug. “We did it!”

“We did,” he responds, grinning, as he returns your hug, burying his face in your hair.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his neck. “For letting me do that with you.”

“You deserved it,” Yunho responds. “And maybe I was being a little selfish too?”

“Selfish?” you pull back to look at him, confused.

“I wanted you to finally like me,” he replies sheepishly. “I—I’ve been trying to get you to like me ever since I met you. You just always pushed me away.”

“I only did that because I thought we were in an unspoken rivalry,” you sigh, looking down. “I see now how stupid I was to make something like that up you never even acted like it.”

“That’s not true,” Yunho responds softly. “I did act like it quite often just because of my pride. I didn’t want you to think it was one-sided if you were going to be all… competitive.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, before grabbing your hand in his again. “Ready to go back to the hotel?”

“Yeah,” you smile, letting him lead you out of the building.

As you walk out of the airport, back on the ground in South Korea at the end of the weekend, you’re actually sad to part with Yunho to go home.

“You know, I’m kinda sad that conference was at the end of the school year,” you muse, sighing, as you wait for your sister to come pick you up.

“Why’s that?” Yunho asks, looking down at you.

“Because now I have all summer before we go back to school,” you reply, biting your lip softly.

“Why would you want to go back to school?” Yunho asks, laughing a little at the absurdity of missing school that much.

“Because…” you trail off before look up at him, your voice growing softer. “I’ll miss everything.”

“What’s everything?” Yunho asks, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Well, the campus, classes, my friends…” you trail off before taking a deep breath. “You.”

“Me?” he asks, eyes widening. “You’ll miss me?”

“Of course I will,” you respond, a small smile growing on your face. “This weekend has taught me a lot about things, including you.”

“Has the princess grown up?” Yunho asks, a hint of his old teasing tone peeking through.

“I have,” you laugh softly. “Thanks to you.”

“Glad I could be of service,” he smiles, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully.

Just then, you see your sister’s car pulling up. “Well, that’s my ride I guess.”

“Yeah?” Yunho asks, standing up with you as you prepare to tell him goodbye.

“Yeah,” you breathe, grabbing the handle of your suitcase. “See you later?”

“Of course,” Yunho responds, smiling softly, his beautiful brown eyes sparkling.

“Bye,” you return his smile, starting to walk toward your sister’s car. Inside, you’re warring with yourself, debating back and forth. Should you do it?

Without a second thought about it, you let go of your suitcase handle, running back to Yunho and basically launching yourself into his arms as your lips collide with his. He freezes for only a moment before he grips your sides, returning the kiss. Your lips move against his for a moment before you pull back slowly, panting slightly.

“What was that for?” he asks, breathless, as he brushes his nose against yours.

“I like you too, Yunho,” you respond, a small smile on your face as you glance at his perfect, pink lips again. “I think I always have… I was just scared.”

He grins, joy radiating from his smile, “You like me?”

“I do,” you nod shyly.

Yunho leans in again, capturing your lips with his in another, much softer kiss. When he pulls away, his gaze meets yours. “I’m so happy we spent the weekend together.”

“So am I,” you smile, reluctantly pulling away. “Well, I should go meet my sister before she wonders what’s happening.”

“Yeah,” he nods, letting you go. “Can I give you my number and maybe we can meet up sometime this summer?”

“Please,” you nod, taking his phone from him to type on your number. With a mischievous smile, you make the contact name ‘Princess’ with a heart emoji. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” he responds, smiling when he sees the contact name. “I’ll text you soon.”

“Alright,” you smile, leaning in to give him one more hug before pulling away for real this time. “You know, I’m glad the university made a mistake with the rooms.”

“Me too,” Yunho smiles. “I got to see how much of a cuddle bug you really are.”

“Well, if you ask me out soon, you might get to see it again.”

“Is now too soon?” Yunho laughs, but you can tell he’s serious. “Will tomorrow work? I can come anywhere.”

“There’s a cafe in downtown Seoul. Would that work?” you suggest.

“Perfect,” he smiles, nodding. “I’ll text you the time I’ll pick you up once you send the address, alright?”

“I guess I was worried for nothing,” you laugh, shaking your head slightly.

“About what?” Yunho asks, tilting his head slightly in question.

“Missing you this summer.”

He winks as you move to go to your sister’s car, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, princess.”

“I think I’m slowly learning that fact.”

Taglist: @hongjoongspoetry, @originallyyn, @outlawinthisworld1117, @anxieteez, @touchme-teezme, @fixonateez8, @hum4n-e4ter, @cherriehaz, @eixila, @i-love-ateez, @gigikubolong29, @kyeos4ng, @annoyingretard, @grandlightcandy, @vanishingboots, @bkimrose, @hobarihope, @sunshiinmidnight, @yuyusuyu, @yunnierights, @sunkissedchocobeauty, @seonghwasprincess, @yunhowooyo, @bloomyroses, @hwalilac, @sheerfreesia007

if there’s a strike through your name, i couldn’t tag </3

[the-clumsywitchtarot]

What is Your Future Husband's Love Language?

Because maybe his love language is quality time and you need to know ahead of time to work it into your schedule.

Cards

10 of Swords (Reversed)

2 of Wands (Reversed)

Wheel of Fortune

I feel like your future husband's love language is acts of service, anything that would make their life flow more easily. Before starting the reading for this pile I felt a pull to listen to a song called "A Little Bit" by Erika de Casier so they may also have quality time as a love language but I feel like they're too proud or stoic to admit it. This person could definitely be someone that avoids becoming too emotional or lovey dovey. They seem like someone that only knows how to show love from a practical side, for instance if you need your oil changed they'll have it done to keep you from having to do it. But if you are someone that likes to have deep talks or is touchy feely they may reject that. Another song that came up was "Strong as Glass" by Goapele.

Cards

6 of Wands

10 of Wands (Reversed)

The World

Apparently this is going to be a musical reading because starting your pile I felt the need to put on the song "All This Love" by Trey Songz. Your future husband's love language is words of affirmation, he is someone that is going to love hearing how well you thinks he's doing. And how much love him, when you give this man a compliment he is going to be in cloud 9. And if you send him text throughout the day just to let him know that you're thinking of him, he will love that! I can see a man getting a text, reading it, and then just beaming afterwards. He just wants to know that he is loved and appreciated. You do that and he'll be willing to give you the world (I know, an ironic choice of words considering you got the world card!) This is a side note but this pile gives me stay at home girlfriend vibes, well at least before you get married.

Cards

The Moon

4 of Swords

6 of Swords

This pile is interesting, I don't think your future husband will have any love language in particular but rather a combination of all of them. I feel like this person is just looking to quiet their minds and whichever of the love languages does that at any particular time is the one they'll want. I feel like this is a man that could've struggled opening up and expressing his needs at first. They may have been raised in a home or environment where their needs didn't matter or they were shown that they were not important in the eyes of their caregiver(s). This is a man that may have grown up in the foster care system. I feel like you will help him to realize that he is just as important and worthy of love and care as anyone else. I feel like he'll be so comfortable opening up to you that you will help him become in tune with what he needs. For any of those of you that are worried that this is someone that is an emotionally wounded boy man. Don't worry, I don't see that being the case, I think this is someone that has emotional intelligence when it comes to others but he just needs to be given permission to have it when it comes to himself. I feel like you guys will bring out the absolute best in each other effortlessly. I'm hearing the phrase "there are no perfect people but there are people perfect for each other."

Thank you for reading and please feel free to let me know which pile you chose! 🩷

- Erika, The Clumsy Witch