#despite being a lesbian herself?

[katamaricule]

I ... don't think Xiao Ge understood the assignment.

[thepurecinnamonroll]

Idc— Olivia witnessing Alex bleeding out on the sidewalk and then being one of the reasons she doesn't bleed out (along with the fact that she literally felt Alex's blood and life leaving her body) should mean a lot more than people give it credit for omg

Just imagine how Olivia feels after seeing Alex bleeding so much while she held her shoulder

And imagine how Alex feels, knowing Olivia is one of the main reasons she's alive

(this actually drives me crazy)

[welcometothejianghu]

Once more, being real generous with the "functional" here.

[northersouth]

Had a dream where I was serving an incredibly rude customer and her husband.

She asks “what’s your normal diet... minestrone soup?” and she’s all smug about it but I’m just relieved that she’s finally maybe going to order something. Then someone else explains to me that asking about someone’s diet is an old fashioned way of talking about their sexual preferences and by “minestrone soup” she’s implying I’m a lesbian so I tell her to go fuck herself.

Anyways, Happy Pride Month I guess?

[kolibrispacestation]

uhhhh hi there :)

i know this isn’t exactly a POC band but there’s a russian band named kolibri made of four sapphic women (one of them has sadly passed away recently) and they’ve been making music together since the 90s? they don’t sing in english (unless you count half the song world of magic) but have really good music about various topics that go FAR beyond just “i am gay”… they have retellings of folk stories from various cultures, songs about loss and properly overcoming grief, songs about how rivalry gets you nowhere, and how you don’t need to be a “hero” to deserve good things

i’m just putting that out here in case anyone thinks that living in a country that doesn’t support queer folk means that everyone in it is homophobic. because why would they enforce homophobic laws if there were no gay people to enforce it upon?

proclaiming we're in a lesbian music renaissance NOW thanks to artists like Billie Eilish, Chapell Roan, Fletcher, Phoebe Bridgers, Dove Cameron and Renee Rapp is qWHITE interesting to me (dgmw I like those artists but)........... people are acting like Janelle Monae, Victoria Monet, Hayley Kiyoko, Arlo Parks, Halsey, Kehlani, Syd, Dua Saleh, Raveena, Kelela, and even Megan Thee Stallion haven't been CONSISTENTLY making music about loving women and eating pussy for well over a decade. is it only a "sapphic music renaissance" when white lesbians and queer women do it?

[here-there-were-dragons]

my mother is absolutely convinced of some nonsense conspiracy theory that (in her words) "originally humanity lived in peaceful all-woman societies of goddess worshippers who took care of eachother and lived in harmony, while males were roving loners that had no society and never cooperated. that changed when the men banded together and overthrew the peaceful woman-dominated societies, and enslaved us all." and, according to her, this is proof that a woman-dominated world would be innately more peaceful, and that men are innately violent and evil and should be either barred from holding any legal power or leadership roles or at least should be (again in her words) "gelded like bulls" to remove their testosterone before even being considered for such a thing.

she also evidently believes that the problem with all religions today is primarily that they aren't "goddess worshippers", because she seems to think goddess religions are inherently peaceful and pure too and seems to be especially obsessed with "Isis" in particular. the very very few times she's openly considered it unambiguously bad for some population or another to have been exterminated (she's got a bad case of devil's advocating genocide brain), she's gone out of her way to make up some crap about how said people were a peaceful society of goddess-worshippers, almost always of isis. delusions of isis-worship seem to be the only thing that ever causes her to consider any arab or middle-eastern culture, society, or ethnicity to be relatively uncomplicatedly undeserving of extermination, in fact, because every fucking time she doesn't immediately start devils-advocating it and making remarks about how "the rest of the world should box them in and let them blow eachother up" it's when she's whinging on about how whatever specific micro-ethnicity she's thinking about are or were traditional persecuted isis-worshippers.

the sole major exception to her weird fixation on isis worship justifying worthiness of life is the whole israel thing going on, in which she has consistently made very obvious that literally the only reason she's against the genocide of palestine is because it gives her an excuse to even more openly hate jewish people than she already did. and honestly i'm not sure even that's true because i think she's made some offhand remarks about palestinians having probably been peaceful isis worshipers before the jews infected them with christianity or something anyway.

so for the last, however fucking long it's been i've been constantly having to listen to her go off about how this behavior is in the jew's blood or whatever and that they literally invented all genocide because somehow the concept didn't exist before them and wouldn't have ever been invented by the rest of humanity without those jewish aliens dropping it in i fucking guess apparently and she furthermore goes on about how every single genocide and mass-oppression movement in history is directly inspired by them, ESPECIALLY the nazis, and THEN i have to listen to her rant about how, basically, wwii was something they entirely brought on themselves by "dominating the economy and treating everyone not them like shit" and the nazis were just "using their own tactics back at them". and then she goes on a rant about how the people the original jews exterminated back in the day (aka the first ever genocide, which they invented, because jews invented genocide and hate according to her) in the middle east region were peaceful matriarchal isis-worshipers.

and then she starts making comments about arabs being backwards and palestinians either being mysogynist muslims that should be boxed in to blow eachother up with everyone else or secret peaceful isis worshippers corrupted by men's cruel hand, sometimes in the same sentence, entirely dependent on which group she's more in the mood to hate at the time.

it's exhausting. beyond exhausting. her sole purpose in existence seems to be to have the singularly most exhausting set of politics physically possible to fit into one person.

just, sometimes i think, if there really is anything at all to the incredibly stupid and inexplicably popular idea that anyone or anything has a Purpose tm to exist for, i feel like my mother's purpose is to be walking proof to me of a Type Of Guy That Is Real, cause i sure as fuck would have trouble inventing this mess if it wasn't standing right in front of me spewing confusingly bipartisan hate. all of her thoughts and opinions are these long winding nonsense chains that feel like if that man carrying thing sketch about the friend with confusing politics was a person. on meth.

[aizenat]

There is this girl I went to hs with and the nicest way I can say this is this girl was smart but not particularly so, and had a high sense of self despite being remarkably average. Again, that's the nicest way I can say that. She also got very triggered whenever I was better at her than something (in all fairness, she was like that with anyone better than her, but my friend caught her shit talking me once when I was the only person in my English class to get an A on my Catcher in the Rye essay--something I expected simply because I'm a writer, was then, and I never once got anything less than A on an essay my entire hs career--and that pissed me off particularly because my writing is the ONE thing in this world I can truly say I do better than most people).

Anyway, I learned a while ago that she moved to Boston, and she was associated with Harvard in some way. Without getting too into it, she works there in the weirdest and most random department (not as a professor or anything meaningful or prestigious, which will make sense in a second), doing basically admin shit it seems. I was curious because she's still listed on their site and it says she's been there for like eleven years. I was wondering if she ended up going there as a student in something, but without a linkden or something, I couldn't see. But every time I googled her name and the school, the only thing that came up was her staffing position. No information to indicate she was a student.

Which is funny. I looked up to see if you can go to Harvard for free if you work there, and the do have a reimbursement program, but you'd only get like 75% of fees back, so you'd still have to come out of pocket. And this is an IVY, so that's going to be pretty. And considering what she does, I can't imagine it paying that much where she could easily afford it. Maybe she does take classes and is slowly working her way to some kinda degree, but I doubt it. I feel like she'd at least be able to brag by now given how long she's been there (the site fucking says when she started lol).

Either way, the reason this is funny to me is because she was never even close or talented or impressive enough to anyone let alone college admissions to get into a school like Harvard (I know for a fact she didn't get in in hs lol), and transferring into schools is typically easier, she didn't get her degrees from there according to the site. So I just lowkey find it funny because the closest she'd ever get to Harvard is not as a student or even as someone brought in to teach, but by getting some admin job and sticking around long enough to get her picture on the school's site. She looks so proud in her Harvard shirt, thinking she finally "made it" but never in a way that would actually impress everyone.

It just all feels very fitting for her. In the right spaces to be around more impressive people while being overwhelmingly mediocre her own damn self lol.

[k3n-dyll]

☆F.U.C.K

Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, also, written at 2am, established friends with benefits, self-indulgent smut, dom!Abby, shower sex, strap on (r!receiving), strap referred to as a dick/cock Word Count:2.08k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ The next fic I have based on a song will not be as fun! Just a heads up. Also, two works back to back within a few hours? We're so back

FWB!Abby who isn't known to be very open about her sexuality. Sure, there are rumors, and there are people she's told that she's lesbian, but that list is pretty limited to close friends. It's not that she's trying to hide it, anyone with working eyes who takes more than a second or two to look at her can tell, she just doesn't feel like it's anyone's business but her own.

And yours of course.

Abby's never been particularly sappy or romantic. Still, despite how intense her day-to-day is - fighting Scars, killing infected, being on high alert at every turn because there's no way of knowing what will be the next thing to try and kill her first - she's a bit of a thrill seeker in her own way. The idea of doing something seemingly forbidden, the rush of nearly getting caught doing something less than savory, has never failed to be a turn-on for her and it's something that, over time, you've become acutely aware of. She's gotten into the habit of dragging you into bathrooms, and storage closets, sometimes even taking it upon herself to get handsy underneath tables when in the presence of others just to see that nervous look you get.

It should be no shock to you that she'd do something like this and yet, you're still baffled.

The showers were peaceful today, it was late and most people were either asleep or just waking up for their own shifts. After a long patrol, all you wanted to do was turn on the hot water and let it soak over your aching muscles, washing the blood, dirt, and sweat that had accumulated on your skin down the drain. You weren't expecting to feel a large pair of hands gripping at your waist in the shower, and if you hadn't known better, you might have started swinging.

"Abby, what the hell?" You flinch a little under her grasp, and while you try to sound angry, the amused chuckle that forms with your words is hard to stifle.

"Nice to see you too" Abby mutters, already beginning an assault on your neck with her lips, trailing wet kisses down your skin as she speaks.

"I thought you said you were tired" You try and turn to face her but you're only met with a tightened grip on your body, forcing you to face the glass shower wall.

"I lied."

Before you can think up something snarky to say, Abby presses her front up against you further and you stiffen completely, the sensation of something that definitely isn't normally there now flush against your ass.

"What is that?" You question, turning your head in attempt to get a look at whatever it is she's got rubbing against you, but again she forces your eyes forward, grabbing your chin to make you face the wall again.

"I want you to guess." She purrs, nipping at your earlobe, unable to stop herself from letting out a low chuckle. "C'mon, baby, I know you remember. That shop we passed by the other day? You were all curious about it, but we never got the chance to really look around."

In order to somewhat jog your memory, one of her hands releases its grip on you, wrapping around what she has and pressing it between your soaked thighs, shallowly thrusting it between them. Your breath hitches at the feeling and the memory comes flooding back into your mind. It was a few days back - Manny had pointed out an old sex shop and being the man he is he just couldn't shut up about it. Mostly he'd bragged about how, as much as he'd like to experiment, his own hands and body got the job done just fine.

In the moment it was funny, and a little stupid. The three of you managed to catch a quick glimpse of the interior, seeing some of the different toys that hadn't been looted or destroyed and joking about all of the time people in the Old World must have had to be so experimental with their sex lives. Unbeknownst to you, one toy in particular had caught Abby's eye. She didn't point it out to you or Manny, but right before you all had to leave, the rest of your patrol group having already started packing up to head back to base, she'd hidden it so that she could go back for it later. And she did.

"Figured it out, pretty girl?"

Abby's voice snaps you out of your head and you nod, coaxing another low chuckle out of her.

"You wanna see it?"

The moment her hold on you loosens you turn around, eyes panning down her toned, naked frame to the black harness that was fixed around her hips and landing on the toy that had just been sliding up against your cunt. Your eyes widen at the sight of the thick, purple silicone toy dangling from her body, and as much as you'd like to deny the immediate heat that rises in your belly at the sight of it, you can't.

"I don't think that's gonna fit. And...and what if we get caught, Abs you can't just hide that thing"

You say it without much thought, your words forcing a genuine laugh out of your 'friend'. She shakes her head and playfully rolls her eyes.

"You worry too much, baby. I locked the door. If someone comes knocking, I can just get out and tuck it in my bag before we open the door" She reassures as she gently guides you by your waist to the fogged-up wall, pressing you against it. "And trust me, once I get you nice and warmed up, it'll fit"

Abby sinks to her knees in front of you without another word, settling herself between your legs and dragging her tongue along your slit. The doubt that was once present in the front of your mind quickly starts to fade as she laps at your dripping heat, your hands weaving into her wet hair and holding on to keep her in place. You feel the tip of two of her thick fingers dip into your pussy, coating the digits with your arousal before slipping them into you completely.

She never failed to have this effect on you, and if it weren't so sexy, it'd be frustrating. Your mind is so quick to go blank under her touch, hips unconsciously grinding against her tongue as she swirls it along your puffy clit. Abby's unusually slow about it at first, curling and scissoring her fingers in and out of you, making sure to prepare you as best she can, but by the time she slips in a third finger her impatience and excitement makes itself known. You're practically teetering at the edge of an orgasm when she pulls away from you entirely, a whine escaping you as you're denied a release.

"Abby..."

"Shh, baby I know" Abby murmurs, standing back up, smiling softly as she watches your brows fix together. "I want you to cum on my cock, not my fingers. You can do that for me, can't you?"

Something about the way she refers to it as her own, as if she'd grown it herself sends a shock of electricity through you, and you answer her with an eager nod.

"Atta girl, now be good for me and turn around" She instructs, pushing you flush against the glass when you obey her command.

Abby knows how badly you must be aching at this point, her own precum leaking down her thighs as her eyes rove over your back. Even so, she takes her time, fucking your thighs, calloused palms spreading your ass a bit to get a better view. She groans at the sight of your essence combining with the water, making the dildo glisten in the fluorescent lights.

"God, you're so fucking wet" She whispers. "So ready to get split on my fuckin' dick, aren't you?"

The desperate little whines and the way you wiggle your ass back onto her is all the confirmation she needs to slowly push in, though, to neither of your surprise with how soaked you are, it proves to be rather easy. The difference is almost funny to her. You looked so nervous when you'd seen it initially, and now you were sucking her in like you were used to it.

"There ya go, slipped in so fast baby, fuck"

The way Abby moans when the toy is all the way inside of you, the way she struggles to keep at a slow pace to make sure you're well adjusted to the girth - you'd think she could feel it. It's an adjustment for both of you, the task of keeping it from fully slipping out of you when she pulls back proving to be a tad more annoying than she thought it would be, but she figures it out. And, God, if it isn't fucking worth it when she does.

Each thrust is like a shock to your system, Abby's pace only increasing as she loses herself in the moment. She could probably - and likely will end up - cumming from this alone. It was already a bit of a fantasy in her mind, having often wondered what it would be like to fuck you like this, but she didn't think she actually could. Her vivid blues are transfixed on the way your ass jiggles with each hard thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin only made more intense by the water flowing along your bare bodies.

"A-Abby I- oh my god, please!" Words barely come out of you, and when they do, they're choppy breathless rambles with no real substance. Normally you were so careful about volume, but there are always times when she'd fucked you so stupid that you stopped caring. This, for example, being one of those times.

"So fuckin' pretty...you look so fuckin' pretty trying to take it for me" Her grip on your hips is bound to leave bruising, but all you can think about is how grateful you are for that fact. If not for her hands, you'd be on the ground by now, legs shaking and unable to hold your weight any longer.

Abby knows your tells well enough to see when you're about to explode - the incoherent sobs, twitching legs, your hands desperately trying to grab onto everything - anything that could possibly help ground you even a little bit. It only eggs her on, her arm snaking around your body to rub feverishly at your aching clit, almost impatient in her need to watch you come apart for her.

"Fuck, don't stop Abby, please, 'm so close...so fuckin' close" You manage to blurt out, damn near crying at the intensity, eyes rolled into the back of your head, head lulled forward against the wall. It's taking everything in you not to fall apart this instant but you want to drag it out for just a little longer.

"Almost there, honey, I got you... C-c'mon, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking cock"

The white-hot intensity of your orgasm sends you reeling, a string of curses and choked cries spilling from your lips, arousal further wetting your inner thighs as it spurts out of you. Abby can't help but moan loudly at the sight, continuing to pump in and out of you to let the base of the toy bump against her clit more, her own climax following soon after yours.

Somehow, Abby manages to stay upright despite her legs feeling like putty, knowing full well that if she falls you'll go down with her. Her strong arms wrap around you tightly as she pulls out of you, her sweaty forehead resting against your back as you both work to catch your breath.

"Fuck..that was..." She trails off, the actual strain of her actions hitting her body, making it difficult for her to get a word out between breaths. You giggle at the sound of her struggle, though you aren't doing any better.

"So fucking good.." Is all you breathe out, your mind still too fuzzy to think of something better to say.

Abby just nods, lacking the energy to say something snarky in response, the only sound remaining being the now cold water from the showerhead pitter-pattering against the ground, though eventually, she does force herself to speak up once more.

"Once I....catch my fuckin' breath...we're so doing that again"

Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,

[planetveensz]

RETRIBUTION — vi (arcane)

— you are pitfighter!vi’s newest devistating lesbian situationship. tw: fem!r, angst, sapphic longing, sapphic heartbreak, mentions of drinking/alcohol/being drunk, mentions of sex (mdni 18+), lowercase intended i'm a sadboy rn, wk 1.4k, art cred an: act two hurt me bad guys, had to take a breath and sit down to write out my feelings. please send any trauma response ideas or otherwise if you have them, i needa write this pain out fr. (i listened to vampire empire by big theif while writing this)

you’re jerked from sleep by a loud pounding behind your door.

blood turning to ice, a trickle of fear runs down your spine as your heartbeat picks up. the banging begins again, a loud rapping so violent you imagine the wood of your door bending from its force. you slide out of bed as quietly as you can; avoiding the weak, creaking spots on your floor.

you pick up the bat placed next to the threshold of your front door, fingers sliding up the handle as you inch towards the door knob. there are another three booming knocks that make you jump back with a small ‘eep!’ before gaining up the courage to rip the door open. other hand reaching to grip the bat handle, you raise it above your head, prepared to strike.

you don’t.

violet wobbles in your doorframe, a sly smile creeping on her lips when she sees your vicious state. “hey, sweetheart,” she croons, stumbling to the side and barely catching herself on the trim of your entryway.

great. she’s belligerent.

“vi,” you say her name like a statement, “what are you doing here?”

you met vi months ago, amidst the beginning of her winning streak in the pit. she spotted you on the dancefloor adjacent to the bar she frequented after her fights. she’d approached you with one thing in mind. the sex was amazing, passionate and fiery, it would have been perfect if she didn’t keep calling you by someone else's name.

“‘cmon, sweetie, don’ be like that,” she slurs, “i missed you.” you roll your eyes, but can’t help the fond smile that responds to her words. you'd kept seeing her after that first night despite every red flag, showing up at her matches just so that she could find you again. you cherished every drunken night with her.

you knew what you were doing was going to get you hurt in the end, but you supposed you just didn't care. and it wasn’t just the sex, there was something else about her that you couldn’t ignore.

among the moments of intense lust, you saw her for what she truly was. lonely. broken, sad. kind.

rubbing at your forehead, you sigh, then step aside so that she can make her way into your apartment. “i thought you said we couldn’t see each other anymore.” you tell her, manipulating your voice into a teasing lilt, but silently begging her to say what you wanted to hear. she slips past you and inside your home like she has dozens of times before.

“you know that was bullshit,” she laughs drunkenly, “i can’t stay away from you.” she says it matter-a-factly, like it is something well-known and studied. you scoff, disbelief sinking into your gut.

some nights when you ended up together, long after you first entangled, instead of sex, you would listen to her drunken rambling. while you attempted to feed her grilled cheese sandwiches and water to soak up the alcohol in her stomach, she would reveal things to you that stunned you into silence.

her father, her sister, mylo and claggor. silco, the lanes, her time in stillwater, she told you all of it. when her name — caitlyn’s name — first tumbled out of her mouth, you nearly vomited. that is what she had been calling you the first few times you hooked up. “caitlyn,” she’d whisper it into your collarbone, murmur it against your breast.

you couldn’t see her for a couple weeks after that revelation, avoiding the bar, the pit, wallowing in your self-pity. it didn’t last long. she’d shown up, much like this, begging for you to tell her what she’d done wrong. tears streaming down her cheeks as she sunk to her knees in front of you.

you just couldn’t abandon her after that night, no matter what she did. it didn’t matter anymore what she’d call you or what she wanted from you, the empathy you had for this suffering person overtook any self-preserving thoughts you had.

she was going to break your heart. you accepted it.

vi flops onto your beaten couch, laying her arms along the cushions and tipping her head back until she’s staring at your ceiling. the last time she was here it was more than three weeks ago, the longest you’d gone without her since you met her. she’d told you that she couldn’t see you any longer; your time with her was up.

you guessed it had something to do with how close you two had gotten, emotionally. not only were you discovering every way to make each other shiver in bed, you were also exploring each other's deepest thoughts and highest dreams.

your heart races in your chest as you settle yourself next to her on the couch. she lazily turns her head to set her eyes on you, the glimmering gray of her irises makes every emotion for her you’ve tried to dissolve come flooding back. “you’re so pretty,” she whispers.

you immediately feel sick, wondering if she’s having another hallucination of caitlyn. how had you gotten into this mess, fallen so deeply into the chasm that is violet’s grasp? you turn your head away from her, resting your cheek on your shoulder while you contemplate your next move.

she says your name, your name, with such clarity it shocks you. you whip your head back around to see her leaning forward, looking at you with a sobriety you haven’t seen from her before. then she kisses you.

you melt into it, allowing her to pull you against her, on top of her lap and into her arms. you sigh, it feels like coming home. she’s gentle with you, cradling and stroking your neck and arms. you sag into her.

her pouty lips are soft and warm, her tongue swipes along your bottom lip and a shudder runs down your back. when you open your mouth for her, it’s heaven.

it’s retribution.

you pull back, stumbling over your feet as you remove yourself from her lap. her chest is heaving, and you catch yourself watching her ab muscles clench with every breath. you scrub your forehead.

“this is wrong,” you say.

“what?” she scoffs a laugh, “baby—”

“this is wrong and you know it.” your voice cracks, the emotion you’ve been shoving down all these months finally coming back to suffocate you. “you’re in love with her.”

violet flinches.

“you’re in love with her, not me, and i—” a sob leaves your throat, “i’m falling in love with you and i can’t keep sacrificing myself for-for this.” you gesture between the two of you. “it’s not enough.”

“you—” vi starts, standing to meet you, “you—i can’t lose you, too.” you can see her own tears forming in her eyes. “please. i can’t.” the desperation in her voice is unparalleled, you've never heard her so emotional.

the dam breaks. you fall into her arms, wrapping yourself around her neck as you cry into each other’s shoulders. you both crumple to the floor, she is gripping you like you’re her salvation. neither of you say anything.

time passes and she falls asleep in your hold; you eventually heave her onto the couch. tucking her in with a spare pillow and blanket, you watch for a few silent moments as she peacefully breathes in her sleep.

a thought crosses your mind, maybe you could lay down next to her for the night, but you shake it away with surprising willpower. leaning above her, you press a longing kiss against her temple and squeeze your eyes shut. a murmur leaves her lips, it sounds a lot like your name.

when violet wakes her head is pounding in retaliation for how much she drank the previous night. a groan leaves her lips and her eyes flutter open as memories come streaming back to her. she gasps, sitting up too quickly. ignoring the way her stomach turns, she glances around your empty apartment.

she finds you sleeping in your room, curled up in bed, snoozing quietly. her heart clenches. she knows that you deserve better than what she's been giving you, she knows how much damage your heart has taken the last few months. she’s like a parasite, draining you of all the affection she needs and in return inflicting you with the illness that comes with caring for her.

but she can’t make herself stay away.

she knows why, too. she just doesn't have the strength to admit it.

instead, she leans above you, pressing a longing kiss against your temple and taking a shuddering breath. she pulls away and watches as a murmur leaves your lips, her name.

she wipes the crippling onslaught of tears off her cheeks as she approaches your front door. muffling the sounds of her cries with a tight hand over her mouth, she leaves, gently shutting the door behind her.

© planetveensz 2024

[aouiaa]

So, I was wonder if maybe u could write something about a very fluffy, touchy and messy make out/sex session with abby!!! Like, she just needs you closer and closer but she's so tender with it and sooo in love with reader. Pretty please and thanks <3

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 : sexual intercourse between the same sex, softdom!abby, sub!reader, praising, reverse cowgirl, scissoring, spanking.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : first off, i just wanna apologize for disappearing. i know, i know. tumblr hasn’t been the same since i left but i’m back now!

the sight before abby was gorgeous, captivating even. your sweet moans and the way you clenched around nothing as you repeat a singular motion fueled by a need for your anticipated release. It was hypnotic, beckoning her closer.

in a sudden burst of desire, abby's right hand came down with a harsh slap, making you jolt and let out a drawn-out moan. you look back, gaze met hers, and she was utterly bewitched, her eyes heavy with lust. she pressed you down further, helping you grind against her. blunt nails digging into your skin, gripping tightly, and for a moment, you wished they would leave a mark, anything to remind you of this moment.

you call for her, a plea for more, and she responded with a guttural groan.

"i know, baby—fuuck, look at you.” she half chuckled, amazed by the sight in front of her. her breathing growing irregular as her hand reached back to tug at her disheveled braid, the action a testament to her own arousal. "fuck," she let out, her gasps ragged. it wasn't enough, she couldn't let it be. despite being closer to you than anyone had ever been, it wasn't close enough.

suddenly, she halted all movement, beckoning you to straddle her waist, her leg lifted and resting firmly over your shoulder. a smile tugged at her lips, "oh—god, yeah.” she swallowed thickly, curses escaping her as she pushed herself into the pillow. her large hands held your waist, guiding you with a gentle touch, helping you find the perfect rhythm.

it wasn't long before abby felt the familiar, tingling sensation, the harbinger of her release. with her hand at the nape of your neck, chest to chest, skin to skin, she pulled you down into a searing kiss, her lips hungry and desperate. it was a tangible expression of what she had been holding back, unable to vocalize.

her movements didn't leave you in the dark for long either. another sharp slap landed on your ass, followed by a grip that felt like a vice. erratic and needy, she met your movements. filthy, guttural moans echoed through the room as she broke the kiss to press her forehead against yours, her eyes holding you captive.

"abby.” you called out, your voice thick.

"tell—tell me you love me.” she pleaded, gasping for air.

"i love you.” you confirmed, her name on your lips as her movements grew even more frenzied.

"again.” she demanded, her need apparent.

"i love you—ah, fuck!” you breathed, your breaths quickening.

"again!" she insisted.

but the urgency in her voice was met by your own orgasm, a powerful wave that crashed over you. you slumped against her, limp and spent, as she helped you through the euphoria.

amidst of recollecting yourself, you finally share your awaited request, "i love you, abby."

requests are open, don’t be shy :3

PERMANENT TAGLIST, @dyk3ang3l, @elliesprettygirl, @les4elliewilliams, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @marsworlddd, @bready101, @abbysleftbicepp, @airenaa, @caraphernellie, @astralnymphh, @whore87, @kaiilectric, @sapphicontherun, @mikellie, @nihilisticangelbby, @be3flow3r, @ppuussyyy, @clairoscharm, @lvlymicha, @brackishkittie, @loveyru, @drunkonnatasha, @leosw0rld, @visupremacysstuff

REQUESTED TAGS, @picklesarenice69, @lesbian-useless, @graviewaviee

[chisatowo]

Uh oh *accidentally makes more splatoon ocs*

[0o-junebug-o0]

Soft Early Mornings

summary: Emily takes care you when you wake up.

genre: fluff and smut

cw: 18+ mdni! kinda softdom!emily, kinda sub!reader, dirty talking, praise, fingering (r receiving), reader has a vagina but nothing else is specified (the only word used to describe reader's genitalia is clit), reader is written as non-male because I can't imagine emily as anything other than a lesbian, cumming in pants (I guess it counts), no use of y/n, morning sex, crying during sex, soft/emotional sex

wordcount: 1.1k

You wake up to the warmth of the newly risen sun and Emily’s hand under your shirt drawing gentle circles on your stomach. You groan softly and she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Hey, baby,” she whispers. Her voice is husky and quiet. She must have woken up not long before you did.

“Hi,” you whisper in response, pressing your back further against her chest.

She chuckles slightly and flattens her hand on your stomach to pull you closer until your body is completely flush against hers. She slips her thigh between your knees, parting your legs slightly, before once again dragging her fingertips softly over your skin.

You sigh with contentment and turn your head to look back at her as much as you can. Emily props herself up slightly, her hair falling over her shoulder and neck, and presses a brief and gentle kiss to your lips. You smile as she presses a kiss to your nose before tapping the tip of your nose with her own and settling back down into the bed. 

You can feel her shift slightly behind you as she knocks off the bit of the blankets that managed to stay covering you both throughout the night despite your squirming. Being this close to each other provides all the warmth you both need.

“I love you,” you mutter.

Emily presses another kiss to your shoulder. “I love you too, baby.”

You hum happily and she chuckles in response. Her hand slips further up your shirt, tracing swirls up to your sternum and back down with two of her fingers. You let your eyes slip shut as you focus on the feeling of her hand, her love and care for you apparent with every soft design she draws.

Emily flattens her hand on your stomach again, just resting it there for a moment before shifting it so the tips of her pinkie and ring fingers slip under the waistband of your shorts. Surprised, you shift your hips slightly, pressing your body harder against her.

She raises up and presses a kiss behind your ear. “Is this okay?” she whispers.

A shaky breath leaves your lips and you nod eagerly. 

Emily chuckles into your ear. “Words, sweet thing.”

“Yes,” you gasp.

She kisses you again and you can feel her smile against your skin before she settles back down. Her hand dips further beneath your shorts and you gasp as one of her fingers brushes over your clit.

“Such a pretty little thing,” she mutters. Two of her fingers settle over your clit and start rubbing gentle circles. The feeling makes you moan softly as little sparks of pleasure shoot through your body. The sound makes her chuckle.

Emily doesn’t increase her pace at all, even though you know she can feel how wet you are, moving her fingers just fast enough with just enough pressure to drive you crazy without giving you more. She peppers your back with gentle kisses as you squirm against her and you can feel her smiling at every little gasp and moan that escapes your lips.

She slides her hand further down and you whine at the loss of stimulation to your clit. The sound is quickly cut off by a groan as she sinks two fingers into you at once. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers. You let out a little broken moan as she curls her fingers inside of you. The angle is perfect, allowing her fingers to hit that spot inside you while the heel of her palm presses against your clit.

“E-Emily,” you gasp weakly.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” she soothes. “I’m right here.”

You whimper desperately as she slowly starts to thrust her fingers in and out of you, hitting that spot and nudging your clit every time. She’s so gentle, making the pleasure build inside you slowly, burying deep in your gut and creeping up your spine. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible and you can feel tears pooling in your eyes. A soft and happy sob works its way free from your chest and Emily stills her hand but doesn’t remove it. She props herself up, leaning over you and tilting your head so she can press a long and gentle kiss to your lips. “You okay, sweet thing?” she asks softly. You nod and open your eyes to meet hers. You let your eyes slip closed again as she presses her lips back against yours and resumes the movement of her hand. Her fingers hit that spot again, making you gasp into the kiss. She pulls back and kisses where the tears have gathered at the corners of your closed eyes.

“You’re doing so good, baby. I’m right here,” she whispers. “I’ve got you.” 

Heat climbs up your body and you whine desperately as you feel yourself getting close.

“That’s it, beautiful, so good for me.”

Her voice and words are so full of love and care and they drive you crazy, making you whimper and squirm.

“Em–“ you moan.

“It’s okay, baby,” Emily whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Cum for me.”

As if on cue, you cum around her fingers. Pleasure washes over you and your body shudders. You moan and clench around her as she works you through it, whispering praises into your ear. When your orgasm subsides, Emily gently removes her fingers and you practically melt into the bed. It wasn’t a violent or overly powerful orgasm, but the slow build and gentle release of pleasure exhausted you. 

Emily slips her leg out from between your knees and you roll onto your back. You open your eyes and blink up at her with a dopey smile, uncaring of the tears still on your face. Emily wipes her fingers clean on her shirt and props herself up on her elbow to look down at you. Her hair falls over her shoulders and brushes against your neck and chin, making you giggle slightly.

You reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear, both to stop it from tickling you and so you can get a better view of her beautiful face. “Hi,” you say softly, lowering your hand to rest on your chest.

“Hey, sweet thing,” she responds. She presses kisses to each of the tears on your cheeks. “Did so good for me.”

You feel your cheeks warm. “Do you wa–”

Emily shakes her head. “No,” she says softly. “This was just about you.”

She kisses you softly and you raise your hand to cup the back of her head. When she pulls away for air, Emily rests her forehead against yours, pressing the tips of your noses together. She slowly opens her eyes to stare into yours.

“I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you too.”

_____

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Taglist!: fill out this form if you want to be tagged when I post fics

[vermilionknight-eclipse]

something so hilarious about the fact that out of marvel came a show with the literal personification of death who:

• is a whipped golden retriever

• is a by-the-book rule follower but breaks cosmic rules of existence and life and death for her asshole girlfriend

• hates ghosts despite being death herself

• is constantly extremely thirsty and horny for her immortal witch girlfriend who:

✓ is cranky, lesbian, and an asshole black cat

✓ is 336+ years old

✓ is also dolly parton's jolene

✓ possibly caused the hindenburg incident and was also on the titanic for reasons unknown

[shaniacsboogara]

jojo siwa claiming she's revitalizing gay pop and releasing 'karma' on the same night as conan gray's 'found heaven' and chappell roan's 'good luck babe' is so poetically ironic. it's like the universe WANTS to draw a comparison between jojo and queer pop artists.

the thing that makes queer pop compelling as a genre is the unique storytelling and experiences of queer artists told through their music. that doesn't necessarily mean every song by a queer artist has to be about their queerness. they don't have to scream "hey i'm gay!" in every single song they write. but claiming to be "reinventing gay pop" should mean you're telling interesting stories about your queer experience, right???

'found heaven' by conan gray is about growing up as a queer kid with religious guilt and disapproving parents. he equates being in love in an authentic way to "finding heaven", and the piece as a whole resonates with a TON of queer people in different stages of their lives. some people can look back at their childhoods and how much they've grown since then, some can relate because they're currently going through what conan's written about, and some people can sympathize with the way some queer people are treated, even if they aren't necessarily queer themselves.

'good luck babe' is a song about queerness and compulsory heterosexuality. chappell sings about a woman she was in a relationship with who decided to settle down in a conventional marriage despite being queer. the song reflects the denial a lot of queer people go through (specifically regarding the lesbian experience) and the unfortunate way a lot of them end up repressing who they are to conform to societal standards. it's fun, it's campy, but its message is still poignant.

as for karma… there's nothing inherently queer about that song. the music video for the original version, ‘karma’s a bitch’ by brit smith, featured a heterosexual storyline. jojo buying the rights to a song she didn't write isn't inherently a bad thing, a lot of mainstream artists do that all the time. however, if you're claiming to be a pioneer of the “gay pop” genre and your music doesn't reflect any queer themes or experiences, is it really “gay pop”? again, queer artists don't have to write exclusively about their queerness, but if you try to present yourself as a voice for the queer community without telling any of their stories, you're not going to be lauded as some revolutionary figure. if any of the songs on jojo’s album are actually about her experience as a lesbian or contain any queer themes, then i think she'd qualify as a “gay pop” artist. but so far, she's given us a faux edgy, generic pop song and tried to market it as some insane never-been-done-before feat. and honestly, if her entire album is like this and she continues to market herself this way, it's a slap in the face to all the genuine artists and storytellers in the queer community.

but let's stop talking about jojo siwa and start talking about the incredible queer artists who are truly breathing life into the "gay pop" genre: chappell roan, renee rapp, ben platt, conan gray, girl in red, kevin atwater, baby queen, mitski, clairo, dodie, and SO MANY MORE (feel free to add on some of your favourites because there are so many wonderful artists out there <3)

also: if you have a different perspective on this situation i would absolutely love to hear what you think and if you agree / disagree with this! i love discussing topics like this so feel free to reblog with your own take

[venusbyline]

Thrusts ࿐ྂ Kinktober. 23, oct.

(late post)

— pairing: Elle Greenaway x girlfriend!reader

— type: smut, Kinktober (Criminal Minds Edition)

— kink: orgasm denial + strap-on

— summary: You feel insecure and jealous when you see Elle teasing you with Morgan. However, she apologizes very well by buying a gift for your dating anniversary.

— word count: 1.0k

— tags/warnings: kinktober 23rd day, female!reader, girlfriend!Elle, shy!reader, sassy!Elle, orgasm denial, strap-on, edging play, cowgirl position, praise kink, vaginal sex, breast worship, nipple play, nipple licking, large cock (strap-on), cock worship (strap-on), experimentalist!reader, experimentalist!Elle, jealously, argument, teasing, relationship issues, light corruption kink, dumbification, reader is a member of the BAU, past Elle Greenaway x Derek Morgan, inexperienced/innocent!reader, bisexual!Elle, lesbian!reader, dom!Elle, sub!reader. no use of y/n. english is not my first language.

— tagging list: @thatredlipped-classic @purplehaze206 @ehedrick012110 @hotchsmutrecs @slutcakes00 @emma-e-a @helo1281917

— crossposting: AO3

"You look so fucking hot right now, princess...” Elle smirked with her hands on your ass as you whimpered, your breasts shaking with each ride on top of her fake cock.

Elle had bought a strap-on as a gift for your first dating anniversary. You never tested something like this yet, despite both of you being very eager into that. Elle was worried about suggesting that new experience, ever since last week, when she joked with Morgan about the only unlucky thing about dating a woman was that she no longer knew what it felt like to cum around a good thick cock.

It was just supposed to be a harmless joke, but it sounded extremely stupid after she realized your discomfort. Not only had she mocked you, as if something important was missing during your relationship, but she also joked about the topic directly with Morgan. You already knew that they had been casually involved a few times before you and Elle dated, and you always tried to take it as a normal thing, since Morgan was also one of your best friends and you trusted him. After all, their affair was just the past.

However, you could not help but feel uncomfortable and jealous. Elle noticed your thoughts and did not know how to apologize. She wanted to say it was just a stupid joke and actually you were the best sex of her whole life. She did not care about stupid penises if she already had your pretty pussy for her to taste whenever she wanted. Anyway, she was angry with herself for hurting your feelings and making you insecure, so she chose the silence.

No explanations or apologies made everything more awkward between you two and your relationship cooled. Both of you focused more on the cases and preferred to spend your free time resting rather than having sex, which was very unusual.

Until your long-awaited anniversary arrived. When Elle decided to buy a strap-on, she thought she would like seeing you using that, she thought she would like to feel a cock inside her again, even if it was made of rubber. But the moment your eyes lit up when she showed you the box, she knew she did not want to be fucked by you. She wanted to fuck you.

Your movements were soft at first. You were much shyer than Elle and you lost your virginity to her a few days before your relationship finally became official. So there were countless things to you experience yet. And one of them was the fact that you had never been fucked by a cock before, be it fake or real.

Then, when you were riding Elle, she stroked your hair, trying to soothe your discomfort as your pussy still got used to the intrusion and the new movements. Even though that cock was not real, Elle could practically feel your tight walls crushing it. Her fingers were slender and long and she never hesitated to put two or three inside you, sometimes even four, but choosing such a big and thick strap-on seemed to tear you in half.

"Hurts a lot?" Elle asked with a lovely smile, her hands moving down to your waist to help you continue riding her, but you whimpered, preventing her from cooperating.

"S-Stop! I can do it myself!" You hissed like a stubborn child and Elle chuckled, nodding and crossing her arms behind her head, just lying on the bed again and watching you on top of her lap. The view she had was perfect. Your eyes closed, your head arched back, lips parted and your breasts perked up. Damn...she wanted so badly to fuck the middle of your breasts with that cock later.

After you refused her touches, Elle bit her lip and removed her arms from under her head and moved them up to her own breasts, squeezing the large mounds and playing with the nipples, before moving her hips upward, the unexpected thrust making you scream in a mix of pain and pleasure. Your eyes opened and you whimpered at the sight of Elle giving you that teasing look while she was playing with her own body. "D-don't fucking do that again!" You tried to sound threatening, but Elle rolled her eyes, arching an eyebrow before thrusting a second time. And then a third. A fourth. A fifth...

Your eyes rolled back into your head at the deep fucking, the big cock filling you completely and hurting your sensitive core, but with a delightful way. You knew you were about to cum so quickly, maybe it was because of the resentment still built up in your mind, or maybe it was due to your pussy already being too wet and dripping before you even sat down on the strap-on.

Elle knew this too, because as soon as she made the sixth and seventh thrusts, she simply stopped, stopping your growing orgasm and smirking at the sight of you trembling, your shaky and weak legs giving out in despair, making you fall on top of her body. Elle loved denying your orgasms, you always came much better when she prolonged it all. "Not yet, princess." Elle scoffed, taking advantage of your sudden brainless for a moment so she could fuck you slowly, with soft movements, enjoying how you whimpered, your flushed face buried between her large breasts, your tongue licking her light brown nipples to pleasure her too, even though she was already enjoying herself just watching you whining and drooling while her cock moving in and out of you.

"My good girl... Always so good to me. Milking my cock and whimpering like a cute slut, desperate to cum soon around me." At that moment, Elle Greenaway was sure that she would never miss being fucked by a man. Now she would always rather fuck you with her strap-on and deny you as many orgasms as you could handle, until you finally let go and squirt all over her body at the end of the night.

Criminal Minds Edition - Masterlist

HOTD Edition - Masterlist

Venusbyline's Kinktober 2024 - Masterlist

[mononijikayu]

red wine supernova — ieiri shoko.

“Hey, Shoko.” you began, your voice low, deliberately smooth. “Can I say something?”  She glanced over, one eyebrow quivering in mild curiosity. “Hmm? About what?” “I like you. Wanna make out?” “Huh?”

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence!;

WARNING/S: afab reader, fluff, romance, nsfw, r-18, making out, kissing, love, humor, domestic, light-hearted, slice of life, love at first sight, falling in love, cuddling and snuggling, sensual acts, slight jealousy, lesbian romance, pining, lgbtqia themes, underage smoking, depiction of making out, misogyny, harrassment, depiction of under age smoking, depiction of sensual acts, depiction of canon related violence, mention of making out, mention of implied sensual acts, usage of they/them pronouns for reader, sorcerer! shoko, geto's sister! reader ;

WORD COUNT: 10k words

NOTE: i know i said there would be geto's younger sister, but i realized i think its more interesting if they are one year older. shoko was born november 1989, geto's older sister was born february 14, 1989 and suguru was born february 3rd, 1990. he's formal about his elder sister too, despite one year distance. but he's also very playful with them. they were recruited a year earlier than suguru and went to kyoto because they wanted to explore the culture. there's stuff i thought about them, so this might end up being a series. but we shall see!!!

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

IEIRI SHOKO DOESN’T THINK SHE’S KNOWN LOVE BEFORE. But she likes to think that it all changed when she met you for the first time. It was almost like fate, it was almost like there was no avoiding it. But she was happy about that. No, she was grateful that it was the case. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have had the pleasure of knowing life for the first time.

The first time Ieiri Shoko met you, it was entirely by accident. Nothing about it was designed to her liking. Or her wishes. But she was glad it happened. Because she met you. That's why it was worth it to her.

She had been wandering through Tokyo’s vibrant streets, relishing her rare day off from the usual chaos. She found herself near a cozy outdoor café, its quaint tables scattered under the shade of trees. From the corner of her eye, she spotted you: sitting alone, sipping iced coffee and nibbling on a croissant.

The scene was peaceful, the kind she usually ignored, but for some reason, she lingered, her gaze flitting back to you now and then. Then she noticed the disturbance.

A man had approached you—a smug, overbearing presence that seemed out of place in the otherwise tranquil atmosphere. His voice carried over the quiet hum of the café, his tone laced with a sickening blend of arrogance and entitlement.

“Come on, sweetheart. Just give me a chance. You don’t have to sit here all alone.” he drawled, leaning closer to you than was polite.

Your response was calm at first, measured. You weren’t even looking at him. “I’m not interested. Please leave me alone.”

But he didn’t listen. He leaned in further, his grin widening as if he thrived on the discomfort he was causing. Shoko hated men like that. Well, she hated men in general. That was just how it was.

But perhaps a slight difference when it came to Gojo and Geto. But that’s besides the point. She didn’t like men. And she didn’t like this man in front of her most, at least in that moment.

But she promised herself that she was going to take a break, dealing with men. She earned it after dealing with those two. But she kept staring. And staring. The man would not stop talking.

Shoko sighed, annoyance bubbling under her skin. It wasn’t her business, she told herself. She had no reason to get involved. She kept repeating that to herself, almost like a mantra. 

But the way you stiffened under his presence, the look of frustration mixed with unease on your beautiful face. No one was moving about to tell of the creep. Not a single one. And that sparked something in her. A bit of annoyance, a dash of anger and a hefty amount of disgust. 

She told herself she wouldn’t do much today. But she didn’t know how to do that. Not with men like these around. Not when you looked like you were ready to cry out against this creep. Without even realizing it, she readily stood up, abandoning her little cafe treats and her matcha before she started walking toward you, her fingers curling into fists.

“Hey, jackass—” she began, her voice sharp and dripping with venom. But before she could finish her sentence, your fist connected with the man’s jaw in a blur of movement.

The crack of impact echoed through the café as the man stumbled backward, careening into a nearby tree with a satisfying thud. Shoko froze mid-step, her eyes wide as she processed what just happened.

Everyone in the cafe now paid attention, when they didn’t earlier. They looked at you, face stone cold with disgust and anger. And your fist, brutishly brushed with redness with how hard you had hit him.

You shook your hand out casually, muttering under your breath. “Persistent types like you are the worst, you know that? Ugh, this is why I can’t stand men.”

Shoko blinked, her annoyance at the man replaced by a mix of admiration and surprise. But then, she felt it. It was quite easy to feel, even if it was just a faint pulse of cursed energy rippling from you, subtle but unmistakable. Her brow furrowed briefly, but it wasn’t the cursed energy that captivated her. It was you. And you were good at controlling your cursed energy. Too good.

“You better leave me alone, got it? Actually, for the matter of fact, leave every woman alone!” You retorted back to the man, getting nearer to him. He cowers, like the actual coward he is. “Now scram! Don’t ever come back here, you creep!”

The man started to cry wolf as he scrambled to his feet and started to leave. You snicker, looking at your red fists. You pout for a moment. You had fresh nails put on, Shoko saw. You must have chipped them. Shaking your head, you move to leave for your table once more. She walked the rest of the way over, stopping beside you as you calmly picked up your croissant like nothing had happened.

“That was quite impressive.” Shoko drawled, her tone laced with amusement. “Didn’t even need me to step in.”

You looked up at her, slightly startled but composed. “Step in? Were you planning to? Also….who are you? I’ve never met you in my life…..but I suppose, thank you.”

You seemed to be quite adorable to her, with the way you seemed to look at her with this clueless gaze. Your purple eyes were beautiful, brighter than anything she’d ever seen. Shoko thinks she could get lost in them quite often, if she continued to stare at you. But she quickly cleared her throat, slightly flustered.

“Maybe. I was just there.” she said, shrugging. “But I think you handled it just fine. That punch was... something.”

You smirked faintly, tilting your head. “I appreciate the thought, stranger. But I’ve dealt with worse.”

Shoko chuckled softly, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets. “Stranger? That’s a first. But clearly. Still, you might’ve gone a bit overboard. He might’ve cracked a rib or two on that tree.”

“Good.” you said simply, taking a sip of your iced coffee. “The more, the better. That way, he won’t have to cause more trouble for women.”

Shoko’s lips curled upward despite herself. There was something about your nonchalance, your quiet strength, that made her chest tighten in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. You were a breath of fresh air in her rather nonchalant, dull everyday. And she had just met you.

She shook her head, more at herself than anything else. “Name’s Shoko, by the way. Ieiri Shoko.”

You raised an eyebrow but offered a polite nod. “Nice to meet you, Shoko. And thanks... I guess.”

“For what?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“For caring enough to try.”

And just like that, Ieiri Shoko knew she was in trouble. Because in the space of a few, genuinely, tender sentences and one well-placed cursed energy punch, she was done for.

Ieiri Shoko thnks that she had fallen for you—completely and irrevocably, right then and there. And there was no going back. That moment, fate had decided that you both were made for each other.

══════════════════

SHE KNEW SHE MISSED SOMETHING. God, that was frustrating. God, Shoko hated it. Absolutely hated it. Not the idiot who got himself punched into a tree—that part was satisfying. That part was great. And hearing you talk and seeing you smile as you both conversed after that, everything about that was just phenomenal. 

But, everything after that, she hated. She hated how she’d been so utterly struck by Cupid’s arrow that she forgot to ask for your name. Or where you were from. Or what your phone number is.

Or anything that could’ve prevented her from obsessing over you like some lovesick teenager. She had all the chances and she blew it. She absolutely made it a mess even before she met you.

Now, here she was, groaning into her coffee at Jujutsu High’s cafeteria, replaying the scene for the hundredth time in her head. Everything was so vivid and bright and yet she was distracted by the entire time.

Nothing was entering her head when she listened to you speak. But in her defense, you were just….you were just everything. And she breathed and lived you for a moment. She couldn’t help it.  

It was like the sun had come out for the first time. The clouds had parted. The birds were singing a melody to life once more. And it was because of you. You, sipping iced coffee like a goddess, croissant crumbs on your lips, while she just stood there gawking. She might’ve drooled. She wasn’t proud. But she couldn’t help it. Not when it was you.

Across the table, Shoko hadn’t noticed the tall white haired man before her. Gojo Satoru was staring at her with a growing grin, like a cat that had just found a mouse to toy with. This is the first time, he was certain, that Ieiri Shoko had been fazed in the entire time he’s ever known her. And it was all too interesting, all too fun. But also all too curious.

“You good there, Shoko?” he asked, poking her cheek with his finger. “You’ve been sighing like a drama queen all morning. Let me guess. Hungover?”

“Yo, Satoru.” Geto interjected behind him, his voice calm but firm. “Leave her alone. She must be exhausted from her healing courses with Ami–sensei.” 

“Ha? She also drank a lot of the contraband we brought in—” Suguru rolls his deep purple eyes at him. Gojo Satoru frowned. “Yah, don’t ignore me like that, Suguru!”

Geto Suguru, did in fact, ignore him like that despite his protests. Suguru turned to Shoko, his dark purple eyes full of genuine concern. “Seriously, though. What’s wrong? You’ve been acting weird.”

Shoko groaned louder and slumped further into her seat, refusing to meet their eyes. “It’s nothing. I just… I messed up, okay?”

Satoru’s eyebrows shot up, his smirk widening. “Oh-ho, Ieiri Shoko messed up? This I gotta hear. Did you botch a surgery? Or maybe—”

“Shut up, you stupid Gojo.” she muttered, glaring at him. “It’s not like that.”

Suguru shushed Satoru, who rolled his eyes back at him. Suguru looked back at Shoko once again and raised a brow. “Then what’s it about, Shoko? Any trouble? You know you can tell us anything. We’ll help you out.”

Shoko hesitated, her face flushing red slightly—a rare sight that immediately caught both of their attention. Suguru looked at Satoru, who looked back at him, just as curious. She sighed, realizing there was no escape, and finally confessed.

“I met someone the other day, during my day off.” she mumbled, barely audible.

“What? Who?” Satoru leaned closer with a sly grin on his lips, his sunglasses sliding down his nose. “What was that? Didn’t catch it.”

“I met someone!” Shoko snapped, sitting up straight and glaring at him. “Happy now?”

“Ohhh, Shoko’s got a crush!” Gojo Satoru crowed, clapping his hands. “This is gold! Who’s the lucky person? Wait, don’t tell me….it’s the nurse intern in the infirmary, isn’t it? She’s cute, I’ll admit. But she’s no Waka Inoue—”

“It’s not the nurse, you idiot.” Shoko groaned, burying her face in her hands. “It’s… someone I ran into in Tokyo. Literally perfect in all the ways I can think of. Strong, gorgeous, punched a guy into a tree—”

“Wait, wait, what?” Suguru cut in, his eyebrows furrowing. “They punched someone into a tree?”

“Yeah, and it was beautiful, Geto. You have no idea.” Shoko sighed, her bright hazel brown eyes glazing over as she got lost in the memory. “I think I blacked out for a while, but she was drop dead gorgeous!”

“So what’s the problem?” Suguru hummed as he asked, leaning back in his chair.

“The problem is I was too stunned to function.” Shoko admitted, groaning again. “I didn’t ask for their name, their number—nothing! I just stood there like an idiot, making heart eyes at them.”

Geto Suguru looked away. Gojo Satoru stared at her for a moment. Shoko sighed, leaning back against her chair. Suguru bit his lower lip. But almost too happy to not keep it in, Gojo Satoru bursted out laughing, clutching his stomach. 

“Oh my god, this is amazing! The mighty Ieiri Shoko, reduced to a lovesick fool! This might be the best day of my life.” He nearly fell off a chair, trying to balance himself.

“Shut up, Gojo. It’s not funny.” Shoko grumbled, throwing a napkin at his face. But he kept laughing. 

Geto Suguru cleared his throat and looked back at her. The threat of laughter disappeared, at least for now. “Okay, let’s think this through. Did they say anything that could help us figure out who they are? Maybe they frequent that café?”

“Maybe……” Shoko admitted, her face lighting up with a sliver of hope.

Satoru grinned wickedly. “I’ll help you track your future wife down. But only if I get to witness round two of you turning into a blushing mess. Like, a little met cute and I get to watch you both fall in love.”

Shoko groaned again, louder this time. “Why do I even talk to you two?”

“Because you love us, Shoko.” Satoru said, flashing a cheeky smile. “We’re your best friends, aren’t we? You loooooveeeee us!”

Shoko feels like she regrets even being alive. She groans lowly. “You’re making yourself not be my best friend right now.”

“Oh, come on! Don’t you think this is great? We’re your support group!”

“I’d rather not have that right now, thank you.”

Suguru grinned. Sometimes, Shoko forgets that he’s Satoru in a different font. “As if you aren’t glad we’re here for you right now. Your dear best friends are helping you get a girlfriend!”

“I’d rather not get that from you both, thanks. You’d ruin it.” Shoko retorts back, with a pointed glare.

“But isn’t that only because we’re the only ones who’ll put up with your nonsense, don’t you think?” Suguru quipped, adding a smirk for good measure. “Actually, that should be for Satoru more than Shoko.”

“Excuse me? My nonsense is what makes life fun!” Satoru shot back, feigning offense. “Besides, Shoko’s nonsense is way worse than mine. She just hides it better.”

Shoko crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. “And yet, I’m still the sane one here.”

“Which is why you need us, don’t you think?” Suguru teased, leaning back with a knowing grin. “To balance things out. Otherwise, you’d be too sane. Boring even.”

Satoru clapped his hands together dramatically. “Exactly! We’re the chaos to your calm, the sprinkles to your plain vanilla. Without us, you’d just... exist!”

Shoko sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And here I was, thinking I’d have a peaceful day. Big mistake.”

“But that would be sooooo boring.” Gojo Satoru scowled, almost like a five year old not being given candy. “The peace and quiet should be fun and booming!”

Suguru grinned, crossing his arms. “Just like Shoko’s love life soon enough!”

Satoru and Suguru shared a small high five and laughed. Ieiri Shoko scowled at both of them but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips.

Maybe they were annoying, but she knew they’d have her back—even if it meant enduring Gojo’s relentless teasing along the way.

══════════════════

SHOKO THINKS SHE’S DREAMING. But no matter how she pinched herself, she knew this was reality. You were real. This was real. Everything about this was real. This next time Ieiri Shoko saw you, it felt like fate had finally decided to stop playing with her heart. It happened rather fast, faster than any prepared for. 

Only two months later, the yearly Sister School Exchange Event between Tokyo Jujutsu High and Kyoto Jujutsu High happened. And if Shoko was being honest, she wasn’t expecting much.

She wasn’t even going to participate in the way that Satoru or Suguru were going to. Everything about the two day event was just the usual chaos of students beating each other up under the guise of “training.” 

But Shoko was still required to attend. Thus far, she was the only student with the appropriate knowledge to heal wounds and treat damages. With her cursed technique, she was the only one who could help out the school’s physician and nurse with the amount of damages that may come between the students. No matter how bored she’ll get, she’ll still have to be here.

That’s what Ieiri Shoko expected for her experience this year. That she’ll be stuck watching kids like her with freakishly strong abilities fight each other to win. And she didn’t like that.

Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru would give her much trouble with how they could end up defeating all of the representatives from Kyoto if they wanted to. All those unnecessary patients she didn’t need or want to heal at this moment. 

And then, you were there.

Just among the people in the front.

You were there, right in front of her.

Her mouth went agape with shock.

You stood among the Kyoto students, your uniform pristine, your posture confident. The moment Shoko’s eyes landed on you, it was like falling in love all over again—only this time, it hit harder. She froze, her heart doing that ridiculous thing where it skipped a beat, and she thought, Oh no. It’s her. It’s actually her.

As if sensing her gaze, you looked up, and your face lit up with recognition. A bright, radiant smile spread across your lips, and for a moment, Shoko could have sworn that the world stopped spinning, with all of that. But then, your gaze shifted.

“Suguru!” you called out, waving enthusiastically as you jogged over to him. “Suguuuuu!”

Ieiri Shoko’s smile faltered. Her brain screeched to a halt.

Oh, no. Oh, god. Are you straight?

Her stomach twisted. Were you... interested in Suguru?

Oh my god, you were already calling him Sugu?

Before she could spiral any further, Gojo Satoru —ever the opportunist—sidled up next to her, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Hey, Shoko. What’s with the face? You look like someone just kicked your puppy.”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Kill me now, Gojo.”

“Oh, this is rich coming from you.” he said, cackling. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that Kyoto girl? The same Kyoto girl who’s now ogling Suguru? Shoko, you know we can’t trust them, let alone fall for them! What if they cry if we win?”

“I hate you. So much.” Shoko muttered, her voice muffled.

“Aw, come on, Shoko. You gotta admit, it’s funny—”

“Shut up, Gojo. Please!” she snapped, glaring at him. “I’m having a crisis here!”

Satoru snickered lowly, clearly enjoying her misery. “So, what’s the plan? Are you gonna confess your undying love before they elopes with Suguru? Or—wait—” He gasped dramatically. “Are you gonna challenge Suguru to a duel for their hand? I have to see this.”

Shoko was about to tell him off when she heard you laugh, your voice light and familiar. She glanced over and saw you standing next to Suguru, chatting animatedly. Then she caught Suguru’s expression: a rare, soft smile that he reserved for a select few.

Something clicked.

Wait. That smile wasn’t flirty. It was fond. Familiar.

…..One could say even familial in nature.

Then Suguru said, “You’ve grown, nee–chan! When was the last time we saw each other? Two years?”

And just like that, it hit her.

“Oh my god.” Shoko muttered, staring at you in horror. “They’re Suguru’s sister. Suguru’s older sister!”

Gojo doubled over, laughing so hard he nearly fell over. “This just keeps getting better! Shoko, you absolute idiot! All this time, and you didn’t realize they're Suguru’s sister?!”

“Shut up!” she hissed, her face burning as the pieces fell into place. 

Satoru blinked, “They even have the same eyes with different color palettes! One look and it’s obvious—”

“Gojo, not the time!”

Satoru started to lose it once again. “Oh shit, you fell for his sister!”

“Gojo—”

Meanwhile, you had turned toward Shoko, your smile as bright as ever. You waved, your joy uncontainable as you called out, “Hey, Shoko! Long time no see!”

Her brain short-circuited again. But this time, it wasn’t because of panic—it was because she realized she had an in. And Gojo? He just kept laughing. Oh, this was something new to him. He’d never seen Ieiri Shoko be this down bad, or at all be defeated in such a way someone smiled or greeted her. This was incredible.

Shoko froze like a deer caught in headlights. You were walking toward her now, that same radiant smile plastered across your face. Her heart raced as a thousand thoughts flew through her mind, but one screamed the loudest: Play it cool, Shoko. For the love of cursed energy, play it cool.

But then, right behind her, Gojo Satoru wasn’t helping. “Oh no, Shoko.” he snickered innocently. “Please don’t faint now. You’ll ruin the moment. Should I start humming the wedding march?”

She shot him a glare that could’ve dropped a special grade curse. “Gojo, I swear, if you don’t shut up—”

Before she could finish, you were standing in front of her, looking just as beautiful…no, even more beautiful than the last time she saw you. Your bright purple eyes sparkled with recognition as you clasped your hands together, grinning.

“I can’t believe it’s you!” you said, your tone light and genuinely excited. “I’ve been wanting to get a hold of you. But I didn’t know your contact info! I also forgot about asking Suguru here. That one was my fault!”

“Nee–san took too many missions this time around again.” Suguru retorted with a slight frown as you rolled your eyes, playfully. “You know you get forgetful when you get too exhausted! Take less work load! Mom already tells me to tell you! I can’t keep telling you, nee–san!”

Your younger brother was cute like this, you thought. He was always concerned about you, and even though you were the one older by one year—your little brother was the one between the two of you who was always more protective and caring. Perhaps that’s why you love your little brother a lot. You smiled at him, waving him off.

“Don’t worry too much, Sugu! I get to rest too!”

He frowned. “How many coffees did you drink today?”

“.....Just a little bit!”

“Nee–san!”

“Anyway, Shoko. Thank you again!” You ignore your younger brother’s lectures once more, giggling. “I was grateful for having you there.”

“Oh, uh...it’s fine, by the way. What happened.” Shoko cleared her throat as she once more stammered, her usual cool demeanor crumbling under your gaze. “It was nothing. You handled it yourself, readily. Brilliantly. Properly—” 

“You’re talkative!” You say to Shoko, causing her to blink.

She stops herself. “I’m sorry.”

You giggle. Oh, that was music to her ears. “No, no. It was just an observation. You have such a way of speaking, it’s rather nice to hear.”

Shoko could feel her cheeks turn red, brighter than before. She lowers her head. “A–ah…that’s fine. You…you still did much of the work, as I said.”

“Well, yeah….” you laughed, rubbing the back of your neck. “But I saw you coming over, and it meant a lot. It’s not everyday someone is willing to back you up like that.”

Shoko’s brain screamed: THEY REMEMBERED ME. THEY WERE THINKING ABOUT ME.

But before she could say anything remotely coherent, Geto Suguru once more joined the conversation, completely oblivious to the tension with a smile. You know that smile too well. You think you’ll get another lecture about this later. You sighed, you really should be more careful with yourself. You didn’t want to worry your little brother too much.”

“Since you know nee–san, we might as well make it more formal.” he said with a fond smile, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Shoko, this is my elder sister. They’re in their second year at Kyoto Jujutsu High. Nee-san, this is Ieiri Shoko. She’s one of the only healers who can do RCT properly.”

You beamed at her again, extending your hand. “Nice to formally meet you, Ieiri Shoko. My little brother talks about you all the time. You’re his…more sane friend, he tells me.”

Oh no, Shoko thought, panic setting in. She’s polite. She’s sweet. And she likes Suguru enough to listen to his rambling. I’m doomed.

Meanwhile, Gojo Satoru because of course, Satoru leaned into Shoko’s ear and whispered just loud enough for you to hear, “Shoko, do you realize?”

“Realize what, Gojo?”

 He grins at her, his glasses falling slightly from his eyes. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not!” she snapped, swatting at him.

You tilted your head, curious but amused. “Blushing?”

“She’s totally blushing, nee–san!” Satoru teased, now openly grinning. “Rare sighting, don’t you think?”

Shoko groaned and ran a hand through her hair. “Please go on and ignore him. He’s an idiot.”

Satoru started to frown. “Shoko, not fair!”

“Then stop being so annoying!”

“I’m not being annoying, take it back!”

“No!”

You laughed again, the sound warm and genuine. You started to realize how animated they were the more you saw them argue. Suguru was right about them. They were fun. Perhaps especially to you – Shoko. Well, at least to you.

The doe eyed young woman pursed her lip onto a tight line as she felt the warmth of her cheeks deepen. She started to feel it in her ears and her neck. This was so bad. Right in front of you too. Ieiri Shoko felt like she could die right there and it would be fine. But then you said something that nearly killed her on the spot.

“So, Shoko......” you began, your voice tinged with curiosity. “How do you feel about dinner after the event? Maybe you can tell me more about how you and my brother became friends.”

Shoko blinked. “Dinner?”

“Dinner.” you repeated with a smile that made her knees weak. “Unless you’re busy, of course.”

Satoru gasped dramatically, butting in once more. “Is this a date? Oh my god, Shoko, you’re getting asked out—”

Suguru frowned, hitting Satoru’s arm. “Satoru, shut up.”

“But, Suguboo, our kid’s all grown up already! Flying out of the nest and spreading her wings out there in the wild, to find a mate—”

“Shut up, Gojo!” she barked, her voice cracking slightly She turned back to you, her cheeks burning. “I—I’m not busy. Not tonight…..Dinner sounds great, if you’d like it.”

“That sounds lovely!” You clapped your hands. “I don’t know many restaurants here in Tokyo, well the great ones. I’ll leave myself in your care!”

“Y–yeah….”

Geto Suguru arched an eyebrow at the interaction, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Looks like you two are getting along already. Nee–san, I’m sure you’ll get along really well.”

You smiled at him. “That makes me happy, very much happy!”

Satoru couldn’t help but cackle. “Oh, they’re getting along great! Better than I ever imagined.”

As you laughed at their antics, Ieiri Shoko continued to think that all she could ever want in this moment was to go on and  sink into the ground. And yet, all at once, she felt the enjoyment of these warm feelings inside of her.

At the same time, she couldn’t help the tiny, shy smile tugging at her lips. Because you were here. And you were with her. Shoko couldn’t help but think that maybe fate wasn’t so cruel after all.

══════════════════

EVERYTHING FROM THAT DAY WAS ONE OF THE BEST OF SHOKO’S LIFE. That dinner turned out to be a game-changer. Well, at least that’s what she thinks. Ieiri Shoko, despite her usual aloofness, found herself opening up to you in a way that surprised even her. Perhaps in more deeper ways than he’s ever found himself honest with Geto and Gojo.

But perhaps it was because you were easy to talk to. You just knew what to say to people. You just knew how to make them laugh. You were everything in one. You were funny, sharp, and undeniably kind. And Shoko was quite sure that all her feelings quickly realized themselves as more than what she thought it was.

Initially, she knew it was a crush and that had only been scratching the surface. That she knew all too well. But by the end of the night, she was right.  There was more than what she felt on the surface.

She was utterly, quite honestly down to the depths of the earth smitten with you. But with the way you were looking at her, smiling ever so widely, even more than her — the stage was set for Ieiri Shoko. It was clear you felt the same way for her too.

Geto Suguru, sitting across from you two, watched with quiet amusement. He was pleased, almost proud, even. Seeing his best friend and his sister getting along so well warmed his heart. Seeing both of them happy and falling in love? He likes to think that could make his entire year. He liked seeing his nee–san happy, after all.  

“It’s nice to see you laughing like that, Shoko.” he teased lightly as the three of you wrapped up the meal. “I’ll have to thank nee–san for pulling it out of you.”

Shoko rolled her eyes, a faint blush dusting her cheeks. “Shut up, Geto.”

The Sister School Exchange Event ended with Tokyo’s team taking the win. Kyoto’s students were graceful in defeat—well, only mostly—but the sting of competition was softened by the relationships that were fostered during the event. Still, when the time came for you to return to Kyoto, Ieiri Shoko found herself uncharacteristically reluctant to say goodbye.

“Take care, Shoko.” you said with a soft smile as you stood by the school gates. “And don’t be a stranger, okay? Call me!”

Shoko gave a lazy wave, trying to mask the twinge of sadness in her chest. “Yeah, yeah. You too. You have my number, no?”

“I do, I do.” You grinned, showing her your contacts. Shoko leaned forward and saw her name saved rather nicely on your contacts. “Is it the right number?”

Shoko smiled. “It’s correct. Don’t worry.”

“Okay.” You smiled back at her too, putting your phone away. “I’ll call you. I’ll text you too.”

Shoko smiles at you. “You better, okay?”

You grinned back at her. “I promise you, I’ll set it all up!”

As you boarded the car, you gave her one last fond look and grinned at her waving. Shoko waves back at you. Soon enough, Shoko watched the cars move and drive off towards the train station. Shoko was about to return to her dorms when she heard her flip phone ring. Shoko took it out and smiled.

You: Hey, just checking in. Did Suguru manage to keep Satoru out of trouble after we left?

Shoko couldn’t help but laugh as she began to reply. That first text turned into a conversation that lasted hours. Then another the next day. And the next. Soon, it became a daily thing.

Shoko tried to keep it casual at first, but she was uncharacteristically shy about texting you. She’d stare at your messages, overthinking every word before typing a response.

Still, despite her hesitations, she found herself looking forward to your texts. And when you started sending little snapshots of your day—a picture of a training session, a particularly stubborn curse you had to exercise, or just the Kyoto campus in full bloom. She couldn’t help but smile. She was learning so much about you. And vice versa too. But most of all, it was making Shoko’s heart flutter like a little butterfly in flight.

But it didn’t take long for Satoru and Suguru to notice. It was easy to do that. Shoko hadn’t realized how distracted she had truly been until those two came by her dorm. Shoko lounged in her bed for a moment, her phone buzzed with another message from you. She picked it up immediately, a small smile creeping onto her lips as she read your latest story about Kyoto’s high’s antics. 

Satoru, who had been watching her from across the room practically pounced. “Ohhh, there it is again! That look on your face, Shoko!"

Shoko glared at him. “What look? Also why are you both here? Isn’t this the girl’s dorm? You can’t just go here without telling me!”

Suguru laughed, leaning against the wall. “Oh now you suddenly care for the rules, Shoko? We came by to check on you.”

She glared back at him, sighing. “I don’t need you to check on me.”

“That look really goes with the one from earlier. You know, the ‘I’m hopelessly in love and can’t stop texting them.'" Satoru teased, grinning like a maniac.

“Leave her alone, Satoru.” Suguru said, but even he was smirking. “Although, you’re not wrong. She’s been on her phone more than usual lately. Nee–san must have kept you up with their stories, no?”

Shoko groaned, slamming her phone face-down on the table. “I hate both of you.”

“No, you don’t.” Satoru said, leaning over to peek at her phone. “So, what did they say? Are they confessing their undying love yet?”

Shoko shoved him away, her cheeks flushing. “None of your business.”

Suguru chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “You know, I’m happy for you, Shoko. Nee–san deserves someone good, and so do you. So, if my sister ends up with someone, I’d be happy if it was you. You’re good when you want to be, after.”

Shoko blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. Shoko really hadn’t expected that from her friend. He was overprotective over his elder sister.  So, she had expected to. But Suguru only smiled and wished her the best. 

“Thanks, Suguru.” she muttered, her voice softer than usual. “That means a lot.”

Gojo Satoru clapped his hands together dramatically. “Oh, this is too sweet! I’m gonna cry. Someone hand me a tissue.”

Shoko threw a pen at him. “Shut up before I exorcize you.”

But despite her protests, she couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips as her phone buzzed again. She’d never admit it out loud, but Gojo and Suguru were right—she was falling for you more every day.

══════════════════

SHE HADN’T EXPECTED THIS. The news hit Ieiri Shoko like a thunderbolt. It wasn’t just shocking; it was disorienting, cutting through the quiet rhythm of her evening like an unexpected slap. She stood frozen, her fingers slack, causing the glowing ember of her cigarette to slip through her grasp and sizzle faintly against the wet, dark pavement.

Her usually composed face betrayed her emotions for once—eyes wide with disbelief, her brows knitting together in a rare show of genuine confusion. The faint glow of a nearby streetlamp caught the slight tremor in her lips as she spoke, her voice low and disbelieving.

"What do you mean they’ve been expelled from Kyoto Jujutsu High?" she repeated, as though saying it aloud would make the statement less surreal.

The words hung heavily in the air between you both. Shoko's thoughts were already racing. There were too many questions blooming as quickly as they were silenced by her instinctive understanding that there was more to this story than she knew. Kyoto Jujutsu High wasn’t known for rash decisions, especially not ones involving someone like you.

“What?” she exclaimed, with such a concern on her face. “Geto, this can’t be real!”

Suguru sighed, rubbing his temples as he delivered the news. He looked just as concerned. “Apparently, nee–san got into a fight with a higher-up.”

Gojo Satoru didn’t look too bothered. He was lounging casually in a chair grinning like a mischievous cat. “Not just any fight—they decked the guy. Apparently, he was being rude to one of their upperclassmen. Because their senpai's refusing to send out one of the injured underclassmen to the field again. And they didn’t take it well.”

Shoko’s heart dropped. “They... what? They’re going to be a civilian now?”

Suguru nodded, his expression weary. “That’s the official line from the higher ups. Nee–san’s being expelled and cut off from jujutsu society entirely. Honestly, I get it, but—”

“Get it?!” Shoko snapped, standing up. “That’s insane. They didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Technically, nee–san broke the rules.” Suguru said, his tone placating. “But I’ll admit, it’s harsh. Nee-san’s not the first student to lose their temper over something like this. The kid’s going to die if nee–san didn’t step in.”

“Harsh? It’s ridiculous!” Shoko ran a hand through her hair, trying to process what this meant. If you were expelled, you’d go back to civilian life. No more cursed energy training, no more missions. And worst of all—no more being together.

“I can’t believe this. This is so stupid.” she muttered, sitting down heavily. “They’re going to disappear.”

“Disappear?” Satoru interrupted, his grin widening. “Who said anything about disappearing?”

Shoko blinked. “What are you talking about, Gojo?”

Satoru leaned back in his chair, his signature smirk firmly in place. “Let’s just say I pulled a few strings. Do you really think I’d let Suguru’s nee-san—and your big fat crush, soon to be lover—get kicked to the curb? Please. You should never underestimate who I am.”

“What did you do, Satoru?” Suguru asked, narrowing his dark purple eyes. “Please tell me it’s nothing stupid.”

Satoru waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, nothing major. Just convinced a few people that expelling your nee–san was a waste of talent. They’ll be transferring here instead.”

“Satoru, you did what?”

“What? I did nothing wrong!” Satoru argues, a pout on his lips. “It’s not my fault they cower and listen to my words really fast!”

Shoko’s jaw dropped. “Wait…..This means then…..they’re coming here?”

Gojo winked. “That’s right. Tokyo Jujutsu High just got itself a new student. Although, they’ll demote them to the first year. So, the newbies will be working with them. But the best news is that Suguru’s nee–san stays with us!”

Hearing the news was like a weight lifting off Shoko’s chest. Relief flooded her, followed by an uncharacteristic wave of excitement. You’d be coming to Tokyo. You’d be closer. And you wouldn’t have to give up your life as a jujutsu sorcerer.

Suguru, on the other hand, looked less impressed. If anything, he looked more stressed out than ever before. “So, what’s the catch? You don’t do favors without an ulterior motive, Satoru.”

“Catch?” Satoru said, feigning innocence. “No catch. Just being my usual amazing self. Though...” He leaned in with a grin. “Maybe now Shoko won’t be moping around all day texting her new Kyoto girlfriend.”

“Shut up, Gojo. Oh my god.” Shoko muttered, though her blush betrayed her.

“Hey, Suguru gave you his approval! Take the step, they like you too!”

The next morning came with a mixture of dread and resignation. As you trudged towards Tokyo Jujutsu High, your mind oscillated between embarrassment and a faint flicker of relief. At least this mess had one upside: you’d get to see your brother Suguru more often—and Shoko too.

When you finally arrived at the gates, the sight awaiting you almost made you turn around and head home. There they were, your welcoming committee: Ieiri Shoko, casually leaning against the gatepost with a cigarette dangling from her lips.

Your brother Suguru, arms crossed, looking amused and intrigued all at once; and, of course, Gojo Satoru, sunglasses perched on his nose, holding a handmade sign that read: “Welcome Back, Loser!” in bright glittery letters.

"Finally!" Gojo called out dramatically, waving the sign like a flag. "I was starting to think you got expelled again just walking here."

Shoko rolled her eyes and exhaled a cloud of smoke, but you caught the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “Took you long enough. Thought we’d have to send out a search party.”

Suguru’s expression was softer—teasing, but warm. "So, how does it feel being demoted? Does it sting less knowing you’ll be stuck with us now?"

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Please, can we not call it 'demoted'?”

“Oh, but it’s perfect, isn't it?” Gojo interjected, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “A whole extra year of us tormenting you! And by ‘us,’ I mean mostly me.”

"Speak for yourself, Gojo." Shoko quipped, flicking her cigarette into a nearby ashtray. “I’m just here to enjoy the show. And maybe your suffering... a little.”

Her eyes twinkled mischievously, but the corners of her mouth softened, betraying a hint of fondness. Despite their teasing, there was an undeniable warmth in their presence. This wasn’t just punishment—it was a chance to start fresh, closer to the people who mattered most. You straightened up, brushing off the weight of your earlier shame.

"Okay, okay. I get it. Laugh it up. But let’s see who’s laughing when I outscore all of you this year.”

Gojo threw his head back in mock laughter. “Oh, they’ve already got jokes! This is gonna be fun.”

As you all started walking toward the school, Suguru nudged your shoulder. “Welcome to Tokyo, nee–san. Try not to enjoy being around Satoru too much, okay? You’ll end up with a bad lifestyle!”

“Hey! I am not a bad influence!” Satoru glared at Suguru, who couldn’t stop smirking anyway. “I’m the best one!”

Shoko, walking beside you, added with a sly grin. “But if you do, at least make it entertaining. I’ve got high expectations.”

“Well…I do know one or two.” You grinned back at Shoko. 

“Nee–san, please don’t! I’m a good boy!” Satoru retorted, pouting like a child. 

“Suguru, is he always like this?” You pointed at Satoru.

Suguru sighed. “Unfortunately, nee–san.”

“HAH!? What do you mean unfortunately? Suguru!”

“Now, now.” He continues to smile at her, ignoring Satoru’s tirade before he turns to Shoko. “Okay, let nee–san go and settle everything. Shoko, show my nee–san around!”

“Alright, come with me.” She smiled back at her.

“Thank you for taking care of me.”

“That’s nothing. Welcome to Tokyo!” she said, her tone casual, though the corners of her lips twitched into a small smile.

You grinned back at her, throwing your bag over your shoulder. “Good to see you again, Shoko.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she played it cool. “You’re stuck here now, so don’t make me regret letting Gojo pull those strings for you.”

“Letting him?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure he didn’t need your permission.”

“Don’t push it now.” she replied, but her smile softened.

You smile back at her. “Oh, what a challenge.”

The female dorms were on the other side of the main gate. So, Shoko took her time introducing you to the whole building. It’s a bit more modern than Kyoto Jujutsu High, and perhaps even more breathable than most.

You should have joined Tokyo from the beginning, you like to think. At least there, no one would have been breathing down your neck about everything and anything. 

The rest of the school was cloaked in quiet, save for the rhythmic hum of grasshoppers and the occasional distant laughter of upperclassmen still lingering outside. They must be going on a mission, watching them gather supplies at one of the weapon stores. 

You both walked a bit more before you both reached the dorms. Shoko guided you to the female dorms, her steps unhurried, her cigarette faintly glowing in the dim light. She handed you your key and you thanked her. For once, she wasn’t rushing. She wasn’t deflecting. She was just… here. Enjoying your company. 

"You’ll be in this room. Just next to mine." she said, pushing open the door with a faint creak. The space was modest but clean, the faint scent of freshly polished wood lingering in the air. “It’s not exactly luxury, but it beats Kyoto’s dorms, doesn’t it?”

You nodded, setting down your bag with a relieved sigh. “Honestly, I don’t care where I sleep right now. I just want to survive tomorrow’s lectures and the scrutiny of it all.”

Shoko chuckled softly, leaning against the doorframe. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Gojo doesn’t derail everything. Well, I’ll try—no promises.”

But as she watched you unpack a few essentials, she felt something shift inside her. It was subtle, like the way dawn crept into the night—quiet, yet unmistakable. She hadn’t realized how heavy the silence around her had been until now. 

With you here, it felt lighter, less suffocating. Shoko had always been fine being alone, or so she thought. But this? This felt better. Her thoughts were interrupted later when she returned to the common area, only to find Satoru and Suguru waiting for her like mischievous foxes who’d just sniffed out a secret.

She glares. “Why the hell are you guys here again? It’s the female dorm building!”

“Just wanted to go and help nee–san clean up.” Suguru says in his defense. “My nee–san’s a germaphobe.”

You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck. You become flustered. “Sugu, I would have called you about it.”

“I know, I know. But it would get done quicker. And I know how you like it.” He smiles at his elder sister and then at Shoko, who seems to be annoyed that her time with you was broken. “Sorry if we came by this quickly.”

“It’s fine.” You smiled at your brother and then at Satoru. “Come in.”

“Hey, Shoko.” Satoru started, leaning casually against the arm of the couch. His grin was far too smug to mean anything good. “You’ve been awfully chipper today. Something you wanna share with the class?”

Suguru smirked, arms crossed as he added, “It’s almost like you’re… happy or something. Suspiciously happy.”

Shoko didn’t even flinch. She calmly lit another cigarette and exhaled a plume of smoke with an almost zen-like air. “Wow, groundbreaking observation. Maybe I’m just relieved the dorms didn’t burn down while you two were around.”

“Uh-huh.” Satoru pressed, leaning in closer, his sunglasses slipping down his nose. “Or maybe you’re just glad someone else is here to put up with us.”

Suguru raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quivering upward. “You’ve been downright pleasant, Shoko. What’s the occasion?”

Normally, she’d roll her eyes, deliver a sarcastic retort, and walk away, but this time, she surprised herself. She looked at you, but you had your back turned to check on your bathroom. She grinned at the two of them.

“Maybe I am.” she said simply, her voice soft but firm.

The boys blinked, clearly expecting more resistance.

Satoru recovered first, his grin widening. “Oh, this is gonna be fun. She does have feelings!”

Suguru chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t push your luck, Satoru.”

Shoko just took another drag from her cigarette, smirking faintly. Their teasing didn’t bother her tonight, not when it came from a place of familiarity and care. Because for the first time in a long while, Ieiri Shoko didn’t feel so alone. And even if she’d never admit it aloud, she knew it was because of you.

You came out of the bathroom. “You know, I think we should get some dinner. So on the way, we can go and get cleaning supplies.”

“Alright, alright. I know the best place!” Satoru says, taking out his phone. “Let me get a driver here.”

You looked at Suguru, confused. “Do we need a car?”

Suguru smiled at you. “Let him be, nee-san. He likes small pleasures of us commoners.”

Ieiri Shoko sighed.

It’s going to be a long night. 

But at least, she'll be with you.

══════════════════

DAYS WERE PASSING BY WAY TOO QUICKLY. Adjusting to life at Tokyo Jujutsu High wasn’t without its challenges—for both you and Shoko. You were repeating your first year, waiting for the other incoming students to arrive, which left you with a lot of free time around the dorms. And as much as Shoko tried to focus on her responsibilities, your presence made it nearly impossible.

You were, in Shoko’s mind, too beautiful for her own sanity. Every morning, you’d greet her in the dorm hallway, always looking effortlessly stunning. A white oversized shirt seemed to be your go-to, and Shoko could never help but notice the lack of a bra beneath it. Your long hair, still slightly messy from sleep, flowed freely, catching the soft morning light.

“Morning, Shoko!” you’d say brightly, your voice warm and cheerful as you padded barefoot past her toward the kitchen.

Shoko, leaning against the wall with a cup of coffee, would nod, trying desperately to maintain her composure. “Morning, morning.” she’d reply, her voice as nonchalant as she could make it. But inside, her thoughts were anything but calm.

Are you doing this on purpose?

Then there were the days you decided to dress up a little more, usually when you ventured outside or had meetings with Yaga to discuss your uniform adjustments. You’d toss on a cute mini-skirt paired with some casual top, and Shoko had to fight the urge to openly gawk. The skirts suited you far too well, and she found herself glancing a little too long when you weren’t looking.

“You’re staring at them too much, Shoko.” Satoru teased one day, catching her mid-gaze as you walked across the courtyard in your mini-skirt and go-go boots.

“Shut up.” Shoko muttered, sipping her coffee with a forced air of indifference.

“Can’t blame you, though.” Satoru said with a smirk. “They do look good.”

Shoko shot him a death glare, but it didn’t matter. She couldn’t argue with him.

“Hey, hey….can you not talk about my nee–san like that in front of me?” Suguru frowns as he downs his coffee. “Too early for this.”

And that, Ieiri Shoko can agree with him too.

But she can’t help it either way too, her eyes rising back up.

You looked too good, ever so good that she wants to eat you whole.

That wasn’t the only time. If anything, it was only the beginning. One lazy afternoon, you strolled into the common area wearing yet another oversized shirt—this time paired with short shorts that barely peeked out beneath the hem. You flopped onto the couch next to Shoko, your long legs stretching out as you scrolled absentmindedly on your phone.

Shoko glanced at you briefly, trying not to focus on how close you were. “Waiting for Yaga–sensei to get back to you about the uniform again?” she asked, keeping her tone casual.

You sighed dramatically. “Yeah. I just want something comfortable, you know? But also cute. I’m tired of the basic uniforms.”

Shoko smirked slightly. “Cute, huh? Isn’t the point of a uniform that it’s... uniform?”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, come on, Shoko. Life’s too short to not look good while fighting curses.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “Fair enough.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, and Shoko allowed herself to relax. But then you turned to her, resting your chin on your hand. “You’ve been really kind to me, you know.” you said softly, your eyes meeting hers. “I’m glad I ended up here.”

Shoko’s breath caught for just a second. “It’s nothing,” she replied, a little too quickly. “You’re family to Suguru. That makes you family to me.”

You smiled at her, warm and sincere. “Still, thanks.”

As you returned to your phone, Shoko leaned back, trying to suppress the fluttering in her chest. Every day with you felt like a dream—one she never wanted to wake up from. 

Ah, she thinks to herself. I really am in love with you.

══════════════════

SHE CAN’T HELP BUT FEEL THIS WAY. Lately, Shoko had been feeling... off. She’d always been good at brushing things aside, compartmentalizing, and moving on.

But this was different. You weren’t around as much anymore, and it wasn’t even your fault. It was just the life of a Jujutsu sorcerer.

Between missions with Nanami and Haibara—your new classmates who Shoko grudgingly admitted seemed like good people and the way Suguru and Satoru always managed to monopolize your time, there wasn’t much left for the quiet moments she had come to treasure.

At first, she told herself it didn’t matter. You were busy. That was life at Jujutsu High. Everyone had their own path, their own responsibilities. But that logical voice in her head was steadily drowned out by the gnawing feeling in her chest.

Jealousy wasn’t something Shoko indulged in often, but here it was, creeping in and making her unreasonably annoyed at things that shouldn’t matter.

She missed the late-night chats, the way you’d flop onto the dorm couch after a long day and fill the silence with stories, complaints, or even just your presence. And now? Now it felt like you were slipping through her fingers.

That’s why, when she caught sight of you one evening by the dorm entrance, her heart skipped a beat. Who would have thought that fate would surmise that both of you were going to smoke here today. She could feel her heart pounding against her chest faster as she approached you.

You looked exhausted, your uniform slightly wrinkled, a faint smudge of dirt on your cheek. Yet somehow, you still looked radiant, your hair catching the faint light from the hallway. Shoko froze for a moment, torn between her usual nonchalance and the strange surge of emotion threatening to bubble over.

“Didn’t know you smoked.” she said casually as she stepped outside, lighting her own. 

You turned to her with a small smile, blowing out a plume of smoke. “Don’t tell Suguru. He worries too much about me.”

Shoko chuckled. “My lips are sealed.” She reached into her pocket but frowned. “Forgot my lighter.”

You held up your empty hands. “Didn’t bring mine either. I’m sorry.”

For a moment, you both stood there, the soft sounds of the night filling the silence. The silence somehow felt awkward. And that was the first time this ever happened. But well, there was a first time for everything. But Shoko didn’t like it. And neither did you.

You take a moment to look at her, as though to study her face. There was disappointment in the corner of Shoko’s eyes. She must have been just as stressed out too. And a smoke was her release.

You purse your lips into a flat line, tightening your lips against the smoke. You closed your eyes, as though to gather courage. Then, without a word, you stepped closer to her. Shoko froze as you closed the distance, your movements slow and deliberate.

“Come here.” you murmured, your cigarette still against your lips.

Before she could react, you leaned in, pressing your body gently against hers to steady yourself. The faint warmth of your skin seeped through your shirt, and Shoko’s breath hitched.

Your eyes, calm and unreadable, locked onto hers as you tilted your head slightly to angle the glowing tip of your cigarette towards her own, locked against her lips.

The moment seemed to stretch into eternity. Shoko’s bright brown eyes widened slightly, her usual composure slipping as she focused on the heat between you.

The warmth of your cigarette lighting hers, the closeness of your body, and the intensity of your gaze. Everything about it was something Shoko wasn’t prepared for.

“There, it’s lit.” you said softly, pulling back just enough to blow out a trail of smoke.

Shoko exhaled slowly, both to test her lit cigarette and to steady her suddenly racing heart. Her face is redder than before. Shoko did not expect it at all. How could she? You acted rather meek and different.

Even if you meet her cheekiness, she never expected that you would be so straigh forward and cool about it. You smiled at her, continuing to smoke soon after, the smoke blowing through the cold winter air. She clears her throat, trying to stay calm.

“Thank you.” she manages, her voice steady but quieter than usual.

“No problem.” you said with a small smile, stepping back to your spot. You leaned against the railing, the cool night breeze rustling your hair.

Shoko took a long drag from her cigarette, her eyes lingering on you as you stared out into the night. For someone so effortlessly chaotic during the day, you had a calmness about you in moments like this, a stillness that drew her in like a magnet.

“Didn’t take you for the jealous type, Shoko.” you said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Shoko nearly choked. “What?”

You smirked, glancing over at her. “You’ve been avoiding me lately. I figured you were mad about something.”

She raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool. “I’m not mad. Just busy.”

“Busy, huh?” you teased, your tone light but knowing.

Shoko rolled her eyes, taking another drag to mask her growing flustered state. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

But the truth was, she was jealous. Jealous of the time you spent with everyone else, jealous of how effortlessly you seemed to fit in everywhere. And after that moment, so close she could feel your breath—Ieiri Shoko realized something else.

She wasn’t just jealous about it all.

She was falling even faster, even harder.

And you noticed every bit of it from her.

The night was quiet, the cicadas the only witnesses to the two of you standing outside the dorms. Shoko leaned against the wall, exhaling a slow, practiced plume of smoke, her usual unbothered air firmly in place.

You, on the other hand, had been gearing up for this moment all day. The cigarette between your fingers was barely lit now, more for show than anything else. Taking one last drag, because it felt dramatic, you plucked it from your lips and turned to her with an almost too-casual smirk.

“Hey, Shoko.” you began, your voice low, deliberately smooth. “Can I say something?” 

She glanced over, one eyebrow quivering in mild curiosity. “Hmm? About what?”

“I like you. Wanna make out?”

“Huh?”

For a second, Ieiri Shoko froze. And then it happened: she sucked in sharply at the wrong moment, and her cigarette turned traitor. She coughed—no, she hacked—doubling over as smoke puffed out like she was a malfunctioning chimney.

“WHAT?” she rasped, her voice half an octave higher than usual, her face rapidly turning the color of a ripe tomato.

You, far too pleased with yourself, stepped closer, arms crossed and smirking like you’d just won the lottery. “You heard me. I said, I like you. Wanna make out? Need me to repeat it slower?”

“Don’t,” she wheezed, holding up a hand as she fought to regain her composure. “I heard you the first time, you idiot!”

But her reaction was gold. For all her usual coolness, Shoko looked genuinely flustered, her cigarette forgotten as she glared at you with wide eyes. The sight alone was enough to make you laugh—not mockingly, but with genuine affection.

“C’mon, you’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” you teased, leaning just a little closer.

She recovered quickly, though, because of course she did. Shoko straightened up, tossing her cigarette to the ground with a flick of her wrist and stepping into your space.

“You’re lucky I don’t deck you for that.” she said, her voice a little rough but her lips twitching like she was trying not to smile.

“Uh-huh.” you replied, meeting her gaze without backing down. “But you don’t want to, do you?”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a second, you thought she might actually slap you. But instead, Shoko surprised you. She grabbed you by the collar, pulling you down to her level in one quick motion. You slyly smiled at her, almost like a fox. Your purple eyes meeting her own.

“You’re insufferable.” she muttered—and then she kissed you.

The kiss was warm, soft, and a little fierce, like she was trying to prove a point. You blinked, momentarily stunned, but quickly melted into it, your hands finding her waist as you kissed her back with equal enthusiasm. 

You pushed even harder, your palms pulling her face closer as your tongue pierced through. She moans against your lips, meeting your challenge as you both end up resting against the wall of the dorms.

Both of you didn’t care about what happened next or if people caught you both. It felt good to make out like this. It’s good to have desires about each other like this. When you finally broke apart, her cheeks were still flushed, but her signature smirk was back in full force.

“There. Happy now?”

You grinned, your confidence bolstered by the way she was still holding onto your collar. “Very. Wanna do it again?”

Shoko rolled her eyes, the very picture of exasperation, but the slight tug on your collar betrayed her. Her fingers lingered there, warm and steady, as though letting go wasn’t even a consideration. She wants to taste more of you too. She wasn’t done with you, not just yet.

“You’re so annoying, you know that?” she muttered, but there was no bite to her words—just the faintest waver that gave her away. “Just like your brother.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway.” you teased, your grin growing wider than before. "More than my brother."

“Don’t push it.” she shot back, but her smirk was impossible to hide. 

And before you could come up with another witty retort, she silenced you with another kiss, this one slower, deeper, and entirely deliberate. The world around you seemed to fade, the distant hum of cicadas blending into the background like a symphony meant just for the two of you. 

Her hands slid from your collar to your shoulders, her touch grounding yet electrifying. You didn’t know how long you stood there, tangled up in each other, but time didn’t seem to matter. Nothing else matters when it comes to loving you well with everything she can.

The world around you seemed to blur, the cicadas fading into the background, the soft hum of the night becoming a distant melody. Her hair smelled faintly of smoke and something floral.

And her hands, usually so clinical and precise, were surprisingly tender as they brushed against your neck. It wasn’t rushed or frantic, just... real. Like the two of you had been waiting for this moment far longer than you’d realized.

When you finally pulled back for air, your foreheads pressed together, both of you breathing a little heavier than before. You smiled at her. Shoko’s face was still flushed, her usual cool composure thoroughly unraveled.

“Well…..” you said, your voice barely above a whisper but laced with satisfaction. “I’d say this went better than expected.”

She huffed a laugh, swatting your shoulder lightly. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“No promises, Shoko.” you quipped, leaning in again, only for her to place a hand on your chest, stopping you with a mock-serious glare.

“Okay, but if we’re doing this….” she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur. “You better not tell Gojo or your brother.”

You snorted. “Oh, sure. Like they won’t figure it out the second they see us together. We’ve been obvious with the will they won’t they, don’t you think?”

Shoko groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Ugh, they’re going to be unbearable.”

“Probably. They’ll always be annoying.” you agreed with a grin. “But worth it, don’t you think?”

Her eyes softened, the smallest smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah.” she said quietly, almost like she didn’t mean for you to hear it. “Yeah, it’s worth it.”

“Hey, I’ve got to ask.” you began, your tone deliberately playful. “You know, back in my dorm…. I got a new bed. California king. Wanna try how soft it is while making out?”

Ieiri Shoko blinked, and for a split second, she looked genuinely caught off guard. Then, she threw her head back in laughter, the sound light and unrestrained, echoing through the quiet courtyard.

“You are unbelievable, you know that?” she said finally, shaking her head, though the smile tugging at her lips softened the words. “I can’t believe I love such a sly fox.”

That made you pause, your grin morphing into something softer, more genuine. You raised a brow, leaning in just a little closer. “Oh, you love me now? That’s quite the upgrade.”

She rolled her eyes, but the way her fingers lingered on your arm betrayed her. “Of course I do.”

For a moment, you just looked at her, your heart doing a little flip at the way her usual cool exterior had melted away tonight. Then, with a sly smile of your own, you reached for her hand.

“Well then, Shoko....” you said, your voice warm and teasing. “Let’s go see if that California king lives up to the hype.”

This time, she didn’t roll her eyes. Instead, her fingers slipped easily into yours, warm and steady, as if this was where they were always meant to be. The sound of her laughter, rich and unrestrained, danced through the night air as you led her back to your dorm.

The walk wasn’t long, but the teasing was relentless. “I can’t believe you’re this smug,” she said, though her cheeks were still flushed, her eyes bright with amusement.

“Oh, I’ve earned it,” you shot back, glancing over your shoulder with a grin. “And wait until you see the bed. You’ll be impressed. Trust me.”

By the time you reached the door, Shoko was already laughing again, her free hand pressing against her mouth to stifle the sound. But the moment you unlocked the door and stepped inside, all pretense of restraint was gone.

The second the door clicked shut, you pulled her in, her laughter bubbling up again as you stumbled backward together. You both giggle against each other warmly. 

“You’re really not wasting any time, huh?” she teased, but her arms looped easily around your neck, her body leaning into yours.

“Not when it’s you, baby.” you murmured, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face before capturing her lips in a kiss.

Her laugh melted into a soft sigh as her hands slid down your back, and from there, the rest of the night became a blur of warmth and closeness. You kissed her until your lips ached, your hands tracing lazy, teasing patterns along her arms, her back, anywhere you could reach. 

And Shoko? She was louder than you’d ever imagined—not just her voice but her reactions, the way she laughed against your mouth when you tickled her side, the way she gasped when your fingers grazed the sensitive spots she hadn’t realized were there.

“Quiet, huh?” you teased at one point, grinning as she smacked your shoulder lightly.

“Shut up. You’re too sly with this.” she muttered, her voice breathless but full of humor. “You’re the one making me like this.”

“All me, huh?”

“Don’t get used to it.” she shot back, but the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her.

The California king bed, as promised, lived up to the hype—spacious and comfortable, it became a playground for stolen kisses and tangled limbs. The two of you didn’t bother pretending this was anything but indulgence, letting the hours slip by as you explored the newfound closeness between you.

For once, there was no need for pretense or restraint. There was just her, and you, and the quiet freedom of the empty dorm building. By the time the early hours of morning began to creep in, it was still pretty dark. Ieiri Shoko was sprawled across the bed, her hair a mess, her lips swollen from too many kisses. Of course, a lot of love bites. 

You were no better, shirt slightly open as you lay on the side of the bed. Sweat was still permeating throughout your body, your dark hair in a tangled mess. It was as long as Suguru’s own hair, but perhaps darker than his own hair. You wanted to tie it up, but you were a bit more exhausted. 

You run your hands through her hair as you lean forward to kiss her once again. She moaned as she kissed you back again. She surrendered rather quickly about that too. And that had made your grin more smug than before. Both of you part away from one another, but still remain close, skin to skin.

“Remind me to thank everyone for being out all throughout, okay?” you said, your voice low and playful, breaking the comfortable quiet of the room. Shoko, sprawled lazily against your chest, let out a soft, tired laugh, her breath warm against your skin.

“I’ll buy gift packs for them.” you added with a grin, the thought clearly ridiculous but fully committed to your usual dramatic flair.

“You’re ridiculous about this.” she replied, shaking her head, though the warmth in her tone made it clear she didn’t mean it. Her fingers idly traced circles on your arm, and her lips curved into a soft smile as she glanced up at you.

“You don’t have to do it.” she said, her voice quieter now, like the intimacy of the moment had softened the sharp edges of her usual sarcasm.

“Hmm?” You tilted your head, raising a brow. “Why not?”

She rolled her eyes, that familiar exasperation laced with fondness, but before she could reply, you leaned in closer, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.

“I liked being able to make you feel good without people complaining.” you said, your tone surprisingly earnest beneath the teasing grin.

Her face flushed again, a faint pink dusting her cheeks as she looked away, her lips twitching as though trying not to laugh. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Maybe, maybe.” you said, letting your grin soften into something more genuine. “But you didn’t seem to mind.”

Shoko let out a breathy laugh, burying her face against your chest for a moment. “I hate that you’re right about that.” she muttered, though the way her arms tightened around you betrayed just how much she didn’t mean it.

“I’m always right.” you teased, earning a playful shove from her.

“Don’t push your luck.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence after that, her hand still lazily tracing patterns on your arm, your own fingers gently brushing through her hair. The warmth between you was palpable, the kind of connection that didn’t need words to fill the spaces.

Eventually, she spoke again, her voice softer this time. “You’re ridiculous. But... thanks.”

“For what?”

“For this, all of it.” she murmured, gesturing vaguely at the two of you tangled together. “For making me feel... cared for and loved.”

Your grin widened, your chest swelling just a little at her words. “Anytime, Shoko. Anytime. You’re my girl now, aren’t you? I’ll always make you feel good and cared for, okay?”

Shoko smiled back at you, her cheeks turning warm scarlet. “Okay. Look forward to the same from me, okay? Since you’re mine now.”

“Then I’ll leave myself in your care.” You giggled, happily. Shoko adored that. 

And for the first time that night, you both fell into a quiet, peaceful stillness, her smile lingering long after her eyes closed, content in a way neither of you had felt in a long time. Ieiri Shoko will let this live in her mind for a long, long time. 

She rolled over, resting her head on your shoulder, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on your chest. No complaints. No awkwardness.

Just the two of you, lucky in the quiet glow of the darkness, enjoying each other in every way you could. Both of you were just happy.