#i'm in little garden 😭😭 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tinycoffeeroom · 6 months ago

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you and i | lando norris

face claim: bela juliana ♡

request: here !

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader

requested: Can I request a social media AU leclerc reader x lando based off of the song ‘You and I’ by Rita Ora Thanks so muchhhhh

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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 679,154 others

y/nleclerc oh to be the girl someone writes love stories about

fan I WILL!!!!! give me 10 minutes and garage band i can pull it off!!! ♥️ y/nleclerc

alexandrasaintmleux every love song is about you gorgeous girl x ↳ y/nleclerc when are you gonna stop pretending you like my brother and just date me instead x ↳ charles_leclerc ?? rude.

landonorris d4vd is so good! can't wait for his show in london :)

lewishamilton pipe is right there 😉 ↳ y/nleclerc that is NOT a love song sir lewis hamilton!!!! ↳ charles_leclerc back off grandpa i will put sand in your petrol tank ↳ lewishamilton woah calm down there bud i was joking i promise ↳ y/nleclerc play nice boys ↳ charles_leclerc he started it ↳ y/nleclerc well stop, i dont want ferrari in my dm's telling me y'all are throwing hands on the grid ↳ georgerussell63 if they do, can someone film it? ↳ y/nleclerc ffs

carmenmmundt prettiest girl in the whole wide world 🩷 ↳ y/nleclerc MWAH MWAH MWAH love you carm 💜

francisca.c.gomes getting ed sheeran on the case rn ↳ y/nleclerc i still bawl my eyes out to cold coffee nearly daily ↳ pierregasly really y/n? ed sheeran? ↳ y/nleclerc ok mr listens to crazy frog when he thinks no one can hear

fan lando being the only one y/n airs everytime ☠️ ↳ fan feel bad for him at this point 😭 ↳ fan y/n you want a lover boy, he is RIGHT THERE

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y/nleclerc uploaded 3 pictures to their story

[caption: y/nnies song recs of the day] replies:

charles_leclerc need to find you a boyfriend immediately so you'll stop posting sappy songs on ig ↳ y/nleclerc as long as its not one of your colleagues ↳ charles_leclerc whats wrong with them? :((( ↳ y/nleclerc i hear enough about cars from you i dont need it from them too

landonorris iris is a certified BANGER

heidiberger wanna go get coffee?? i need you to give me new songs for my danny playlist ↳ y/nleclerc y'all are so gross but yesssss ↳ heidiberger i think you misspelt cute 😋

fan y/n can i recommend turning page by sleeping at last? i'm not sure if you have it on your playlist already ❤️ ↳ y/nleclerc team edward FOR LIFE!!!! was one of the songs that got me into my lover girl era ❤️❤️

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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 607,285 others

y/nleclerc garden party with my favourite leclerc saint mleux ❤️

charles_leclerc wow i see how it is... ↳ y/nleclerc not my fault your son is cuter than you ↳ oscarpiastri aw i knew you thought i was cute 🥰🥰 ↳ y/nleclerc the cutest piastri-leclerc! come round for tea soon, i miss my nephew x ↳ oscarpiastri will you make that pasta dish again? ↳ y/nleclerc i will just for you! ↳ landonorris osc save some for me please ↳ oscarpiastri get your own y/n this ones mine ↳ landonorris just you wait

fan the adoption is going strong i see ↳ fan i think y/ns the biggest instigator for it 😭

alexandrasaintmleux am i your favourite saint mleux? 🥺 ↳ y/nleclerc always x

landonorris leo!! miss my little man ↳ fan day 2947 of y/n airing lando ↳ fan leave him be, his little crush is cute

arthurleclerc if leo's your favourite leclerc saint mleux, am i your favourite leclerc? ↳ y/nleclerc not even close, that spot is for maman only ↳ leclerc_pascale 🥰🥰

fan where's the dress from?? its so gorgeous!! ↳ y/nleclerc it's from a little boutique in monaco! let me see if i can find some alternatives online 💜 ↳ fan my queen thank you!!!

fan oh to be at a garden party with the leclercs...

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charles_leclerc uploaded to their story

replies:

fan you and alex are so cute ↳ charles_leclerc 😉🤫 ↳ fan what does that mean im scared

fan alex was wearing a floor length dress,, whomstdve is THAT mr leclerc?

arthurleclerc i don't like the way he was looking at her ↳ charles_leclerc don't you dare say anything ↳ arthurleclerc you want.. lando???? to date our sister ↳ charles_leclerc oh he's absolutely smitten, it's cute

y/nleclerc is... is that me and lando? ↳ charles_leclerc you guys looked so cute i couldn't help it ↳ y/nleclerc stalker alert!!! ↳ charles_leclerc deflect all you want, i know you liiiike him ↳ y/nleclerc 🙄🙄

landonorris mate can you send me this please? ↳ charles_leclerc yeah sure 😉

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 679,253 others

y/nleclerc i believe the kids call it serving cunt

alexandrasaintmleux most gorgeous girl in the whole wide world 🩷 ↳ y/nleclerc come give me a kiss xx

charles_leclerc ??!!!?!?!?!???!!!! text me rn!! ↳ y/nleclerc i'm busy ↳ charles_leclerc i have a key to your flat, i'm not afraid to use it ↳ y/nleclerc damn ok so needy

arthurleclerc and who is that. ↳ y/nleclerc why do you wanna know? ↳ arthurleclerc oh god its Him isn't it? ↳ y/nleclerc you say that like its a bad thing 😭 ↳ arthurleclerc it is

fan UMMM??? 3rd pic???? deets please miss y/n ↳ y/nleclerc if all goes well, i'll give you all a full debrief

fan MOTHERRRRRRRRRRR

fan never mind the man DATE ME!!!! ↳ alexandrasaintmleux ^^ ↳ lilymhe ^^ ↳ lilyzneimer ^^ ↳ alexalbon charles stop bringing your sister to races i dont know if i can fight PLEASE ↳ y/nleclerc you would lose with those lanky arms wimp

fan poor lando in the likes... watching the girl he fancies go on a date with someone else ↳ fan how do you know he fancies her? ↳ fan he's constantly in her comments even if she airs him, he gets the goo goo eyes whenever she's near and don't even get me started on hungary 2022 ↳ fan ... please continue ↳ fan ok SO! she was in the paddock before the race and some guy came up to her and was asking her for a photo and then he asked her on a date ??? like dude use critical thinking skills for one second ... lando was across the paddock with daniel and there's a photo of him somewhere staring DAGGERS into this mans soul... charles came over and shooed the man away and lando literally deflated.. i'll see if i can find the photos ↳ fan tag me in them please ↳ fan me too! ↳ fan me three!! ↳ charles_leclerc me four!! ↳ fan CHARLES???

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y/nleclerc uploaded to their story

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 708,256 others

y/nleclerc flowers from lover (?) boy :)

fan oh she's down Bad ♥️ y/nleclerc

fan guys dont call me delusional but i think she's dating a driver ↳ fan charles would burn the world down before he would let that happen ↳ fan i gotta say... they have a point, remember when they did that tiktok where they asked drivers who they would introduce their sisters to on the grid and charles said lando immediately ↳ fan and then they did the f2 gang and arthur threatened to kamikaze anyone who tried to go near y/n? ↳ fan going off the comments i'm putting 2 and 2 together and getting 4 ↳ y/nleclerc ironic ↳ fan Y/N??????

fan pls show us lover boy its been 84 years i am begging you ↳ y/nleclerc it's been like 3 months silly but soon :)

charles_leclerc i know i should feel sick seeing you so happy but it's nice to see you be treated how you deserve ↳ y/nleclerc charlie 🥺 ↳ alexandrasaintmleux he's giggling and kicking his feet rn ↳ charles_leclerc wow ↳ fan ik he's picked out a suit for the imaginary wedding ↳ charles_leclerc i reject that statement ↳ alexandrasaintmleux it's bookmarked on his laptop

landonorris pretty flowers! ↳ y/nleclerc thank you :)

fan ???!!!!! SHE REPLIED TO LANDO???? ↳ fan i know he's squealing rn ↳ fan adding it to my "y/nlando dating REAL" spreadsheet ↳ fan omg share the link ↳ charles_leclerc yeah share the link ↳ fan this feels like confirmation but we all know charles lives for the drama

leclerc_pascale don't forget to bring him to the garden party tonight! ↳ fan another one? ↳ y/nleclerc we do them quite often in summer!! it's an excuse to drink champagne at 3 in the afternoon ↳ fan ur so real for that

carmenmmundt lover boy 😔 that should be me ↳ y/nleclerc i've got two hands for a reason babygirl x

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y/nleclerc uploaded 3 pictures to their story

[caption 3: lover boy (no ? this time)] replies:

landonorris lover girl ❤️ ↳ y/nleclerc lover boy ❤️

charles_leclerc photo creds? ↳ y/nleclerc nope!

alexandrasaintmleux its not too late to run away with me x ↳ y/nleclerc meet me at the port at midnight, we can steal charles' boat xx ↳ alexandrasaintmleux y/n it's charles i will bomb the port. ↳ y/nleclerc oh you're Crazy crazy ↳ alexandrasaintmleux only for her ↳ y/nleclerc gross... put my gf back on the phone

fan the sign 🥹 we need to know all the deets ↳ y/nleclerc all i will say is he gave me a mixtape :))))) ↳ fan A MIXTAPE??? LIKE A PHYSICAL MIXTAPE??? oh we stan

fan WHO !!! IS !!! LOVER BOY !!! ↳ y/nleclerc all will be revealed soon ;)

arthurleclerc maybe he has rights ↳ y/nleclerc shush you love him ↳ arthurleclerc thats before he started fancying 🤢 you 🤢

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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 789,502 others

y/nleclerc he may not be able to write me love songs, but his voice is my favourite melody ❤️

fan we've officially lost her boys 💔💔

carmenmmundt just looked at george and sighed ↳ georgerussell63 ?? why am i catching strays?? ↳ lilymhe me with alex ↳ alexalbon what he say fuck me for?

fan lover girl x lover boy era <333333 ♥️ y/nleclerc

fan guys that's lando's necklace i'm like 99.9% sure ↳ fan you're onto something there lemme look at pap pics from the last race!

fan guys the flowers are orange... papaya even...

landonorris the guy sure likes his bouquets ↳ y/nleclerc yeah he's a real romantic 😋 ↳ fan WHERE'S THE FAN WITH THE SPREADSHEET ↳ fan I'M HERE !!!!! typing as fast as my fingers can handle!!!!

alexandrasaintmleux just so you know charles is crying at the caption ↳ y/nleclerc big softie x ↳ charles_leclerc i just have a lot of feelings :(((((

arthurleclerc i will allow him to live another day ↳ y/nleclerc i'm sure he's shivering his timbers rn ↳ arthurleclerc >:((((

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👤 landonorris liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 903,185 others

y/nleclerc lover boy x

fan miss rabbit has fainted

fan spreadsheet fan we just got a HUGE update ↳ fan i'm gonna break my laptop in 2 with my bare hands

charles_leclerc :))))) my scheme worked ↳ y/nleclerc i still hate when you do that shit ↳ alexandrasaintmleux same 🙄

landonorris lover girl x ♥️ y/nleclerc

landonorris so gorgeous, i love the way you look tonight xx ↳ y/nleclerc you said the same thing the night we danced together 🥺 ↳ landonorris i meant it then and i mean it now x

mclaren scuderiaferrari we stole your girl xx ↳ scuderiaferrari you and your ugly colours can get BACK 🤺🤺🤺 ↳ fan the girls are fighting!! ↳ mclaren UGLY COLOURS??? oh its on

carlossainz55 now he'll stop blowing up my phone about you ↳ landonorris nah now i can just annoy you about how cute my GIRLFRIEND is ↳ oscarpiastri you've been dying to say that, haven't you? ↳ landonorris mate i thought i was going to die

fan sorry can we circle back around to charles saying his scheme worked??? ↳ fan yeah charles_leclerc spill. ↳ charles_leclerc a magician never reveals his tricks ↳ y/nleclerc he forced me and lando to talk at the garden party and then pretended to get a phone call from ferrari so he could play eternal flame over the speakers ↳ charles_leclerc y/n :(((( ↳ y/nleclerc you used my love song weakness against me, you don't get to have secrets

alexandrasaintmleux can't believe he stole my girl :( ↳ y/nleclerc you know my heart is always yours x ↳ landonorris WOMP WOMP i didn't pine for years to share

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a/n: thank you for requesting!! i think i've listened to the song about 400 times writing this! needed a lil break from the gote series and this was the perfect thing to get me out of my slump <3

taglist: @golden-hoax

#lando norris smau #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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naomi-nana · 3 months ago

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✎ᝰ. in the name of you .

in a world where everyone forgot their own religion, it's not wrong for luka to look at your ethereal self and immediately mistake you for a divine being, no?

featuring : luka

cw : female reader, implied stalking(for just a little), luka is obsessed with reader, luka isn't obsessed with hyuna in here for the sake of the story lol🙇‍♀️

a/n : i made a till one, and now i'll make a luka one! i was trying to make it seems as if luka is obsessed with reader, but i was having a hard time showing it, and ended up making it seems like luka had become a better person after meeting reader lmfaoo😭🙏

from the moment humans were taken away forcefully by those disgusting aliens—they all had forgotten about their creators. the one who gave them life, the one who gave them the will to continue living. each day felt like a stab to the heart, it feels as if someone had taken your lungs out of your body, before putting it back inside again.

it feels empty, like a void.

while all the kids run around anakt garden happily, although not genuinely, all luka could do was lean on one of the trees, while holding his knees close to his chest. what can he do? what does people expect him to do? he is a weak child, a child born with diseases, a child unable to live without support from others, including the tree he is currently leaning on. without anything to lean on, to hold on to, what was he supposed to do, weak and dependent as he was?

nothing. he could only weep himself to sleep every day, and it changes nothing. he has heard from the other kids that there is a powerful divine being that could help you in times of distress, how it's called god, how you're supposed to believe in it for it to help you, and he did. luka believed in god for a day, but nothing had changed. his everyday life had remained the same.

like waking up early, even though he doesn't know what time it is because of all the fake painted skies the aliens put in the garden, go eat breakfast with the other kids, with no one else sitting besides—"hey, is this seat occupied?" in the midst of the suffocating silence, a cheerful, almost unreal voice had reached his ears. he had first thought that it was just his imagination, his desperate feelings of wanting to be accompanied by someone. but it wasn't, as the voice echoed in his ears once again.

"uh, hello...? did i catch you on a bad day? i'm so sorry, i'll find another seat then." after what felt like a minute, he finally looked up at the person talking to him, only to notice that they're gone. he clenched his fist in regret. he should've looked up earlier, he should've answered whoever that was, but he didn't. such a shame, he thought to himself.

after half an hour, luka finished his breakfast and was getting ready to leave, before being stopped by someone whose voice was so familiar to him, it almost feels as if he is dreaming. "hey, um... i'm really, really sorry for bothering you earlier. as an apology, i got some bread for you!" that cheerful voice had struck something inside him, his eyes grew wide slightly, and his hand trembles at the sight of you. if he were to believe in the divine, he would immediately get down on his knees and pray for you, an angel.

your soft gaze, your skin that looks almost as delicate and fragile as a glass, and your small fingers offering him the bread you got for him. it took him almost a minute to react, and all that came out of his mouth is just a small gasp, so small that even you can't hear it. "don't tell anyone about this though, but i stole it from someone's unfinished breakfast! so take it, please?" you shoved the bread to his face, which made him raise his eyebrows. but he took it anyway.

he examines the bread carefully, to which you took great offense. "i won't poison you, so there's no need to look at it so intensely!" you pout at him. if you squint your eyes really hard, you can notice the faintest hint of smile on his face, and probably the first time he has ever smile so genuinely.

his everyday routine had consisted of the same, basic thing. but, now that you talked to him, it changed his life forever. it changed his views of the world, of everyone. some kids may have believed in the divine from the moment they were born, but luka just believed in the divine the moment she graced himself with her kindness.

from then on, whenever luka woke up and entered the garden, the first thing—or person he looks for, is you. whenever he went to the cafeteria, the first person he approached is you, and when luka went to his first performance on stage, the first person he looks for in the audience is you, holding a cream-colored lightstick.

whenever luka goes anywhere, the first person he looks for, thought of, and wishes to see first... is you.

his god, his universe.

and if he happens to notice some... imbecile, or other people trying to approach you, he won't hesitate to show them that no one can approach his angel without consequences. no one other than him.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

#nao.writes #alien stage #alien stage fanfic #alien stage vivinos #alien stage luka #alnst luka #luka alnst #luka x reader #alien stage luka x reader #alien stage x reader #alien stage x you #alnst #alnst x reader #hihihihi

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nipuni · 4 months ago

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A little life update!

I'm back from our latest trip and leaving again in a couple of days but! I can finally say we are officially moving! 😄

We've been looking for houses travelling back and forth from Galicia weekly these last few months. It was an ordeal in many ways, a logistical and bureaucratic nightmare honestly, we found and lost many houses and spent so much money, time and braincells in the process. But in the end we found the most amazing house so it was worth it!! In our favorite city, beautiful antique furniture, several floors, extra rooms for hobbies, enclosed balcony, a fireplace, a whole garden with a lemon tree!! and for the same rent price than what we are paying for our small apartment in Madrid now lmao, big city prices are nonsensical 😭

We met the neighbors over the garden fence one morning and they are so lovely, they have apple trees and offered some to us and we met their dog too and they told us the story of the house and the people who have lived in it and places and customs of the town and offered to take us to the farmers markets to teach us about the best choices 🥺

We also met our landlady's family and they are so nice and friendly too. They helped us out with furniture, all their children and husband helped too and we offered to invite them all for dinner sometime to thank them when we are settled and they said they would invite us instead because they are six and we are two lmao Ahhh I just can't believe this is all real, it feels like a dream.

The weather is also colder and way rainier and we can finally enjoy summer like the earth intended, I'm no longer a summer hater!! We have wildflowers and mushrooms and magpies in our garden!! and chestnuts!! and an attic!! and a stone grill!! and a big bright kitchen aaaaa I can't stop gushing about everything

Nicolas is so happy too, he has been teaching himself everything about gardening and house keeping and the animals and plant species of the area. We already told all our friends and family to plan their trips to visit us since now we can host them more comfortably and for longer stays!!

I can't wait to be done with the move and start our new town life close to the sea in a beautiful house with friendly people and peace and quiet what the hell!! I never thought I could ever have something like this in my life I'm so serious 😭

#nips blogs #personal #nips photos #first photo reveals the city if you know your pastries haha 🧐#we are ready to become the weird time travelling couple of the town 😂

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whatifitis · 2 months ago

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♡ Nine Lives - LH 44 ♡

Summary: Movie night with you and Lewis leads to yet another silly love declaration from the both of you.

Author's Note: This was a request that asked for a fluffy Lewis fic so here is my attempt at some extra fluffy stuff! Hope y'all like it. Feedback is always appreciated <3

WC: 964

CW: fluff, this whole thing is basically the nine lives song from webkinz so there's no originality i'm sorry 😭, roscoe mention

It was movie night and it was your turn to pick the movie. Well, it’s been your turn to pick the movie. Usually, you and your boyfriend, Lewis, will alternate who gets to pick the movie to make it fair, but the past 5 times, it’s been Lewis’ choice.

You pointed out the other day that it was meant to be your turn since you hadn’t been able to pick one in ages, to which Lewis argued that the both of you had been mutually agreeing on movies which is a flat out lie. While you do enjoy watching his favorite movie Cool Runnings, it was getting to a point where you got annoyed every time the opening scene played.

The alternate choice Lewis would give sometimes was Frozen and you could no longer let it go and love was soon gonna be an open door that would be shut in Lewis’ face.

After some bickering, Lewis finally let you pick the next movie. You had decided that you were going to make him watch your favorite movie of all time, The Three Lives of Thomasina. You had watched the film for the first time as a child, and since then, it always brought you a sense of joy and comfort.

The two of you prepared for your movie night by doing the usual, setting up a fort built out of couch cushions, pillows and blankets. Tonight you added some fairlights for some extra flair and in celebration of it finally being your turn to pick the movie. You had also gone out earlier in the day and bought a ton of snacks just for tonight, as well as ordering some takeout.

Once everything was set up, Lewis, Roscoe, and yourself got settled and comfortable in your little fort. You and Lewis immediately dug into the food as you clicked play on the tv. Don’t worry about Roscoe though, you had prepared a special, vegan meal for him so that he was included in the family activity.

When the opening scene began, Lewis was already, jokingly, sighing exasperatedly, rolling his eyes an excessive amount of times. His arms folded across his chest with a playful smile playing on his lips every time he complains about the movie, side eyeing you from time to time to watch your reactions to his antics.

Half way through the movie, you and Lewis are cuddled up and the food has been run through. As the movie continues playing, a question pops into your head.

“If you were a cat, would you live them all with me?” you asked curiously.

Lewis looks down at you, brows furrowed a bit as he’s unsure where this question came from. Then he smiles, loving all the times you would ask him questions like this. They were just silly questions asked for fun and out of curiosity, but they were also ways he could profess his love to you in new ways.

“If I had nine lives, I would live them all with you. We would go on more adventures than we do now. I would take you on a trip around the world on a sailing ship. It would be a simple boat built just for two and we’d set sail, just me and you. We'd go round and when we’d reach our destination, we’d start over. You’re the only one for me, darling. Can’t you see?” he tells you.

“I can. For life two, we could build a home with lots of kids and garden gnomes. We would listen to the pitter-patter of feet running up and down the street.” you tell him, eyes sparkling like the night sky that shines over the two of you through the window.

“For number three, it’d be like now. I’d work a lot because that’s what I was always taught. But we’d buy all the things we’d need for a healthy family. And for life four, you would read because you love to. You’d have your own library that I built just for you. Every now and then, I’d look for your face among them.”, he rubs his thumb on the bare skin of your hip and continues, “For lives five, six, seven and eight, we would try and alleviate the sounds of suffering and the cris of hunger, pain, and forlorn eyes. We’d help people everywhere.”

Your heart is beating warmly in your chest, being reminded of all three love you and Lewis share for not only each other, but for the world that brought you two together.

With a deep breath, you finish the story, “For life nine, we would be somewhere on a pair of rocking chairs. We’d be happy, slightly grey. If you’re lucky, I’ll bake a cake. And when I wish on a star, I will wish for nine more lives, cause nine lives would not be enough with you.” tears are now streaming down your face.

Lewis holds the side of your face, wiping away the tears with his hand. He pulls you close to him and presses a kiss to your head, then moving to capture your lips in a soft and comforting kiss. He keeps you there for a moment, reminding you that you are his and he is yours. When you pull apart, Lewis is looking at you with admiration and love in his eyes.

“You are my one and only love.”

Roscoe lets out a little whine, to which you and Lewis laugh at.

You sit up and pull Roscoe to sit between Lewis and yourself.

“How could we forget you, Roscoe? You’re the best thing to ever happen to us. My beautiful, beautiful boy. You would join us for all our lives as well, cause we wouldn’t want to do it without you.”

#lewis hamilton blurb #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fluff

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lixies-favorite-cookie · 6 months ago

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calling skz clingy headcanons ◦ ot8

Paring◦ ot8 x reader

Words◦ 3,578

Genre ◦ hurt and comfort

Warnings ◦ reader blows up at the boys a few times, mild cussing I think, hyunjin is lowkey toxic in this but the reader is more toxic, honestly all of our boys are pretty dramatic lmao, they keep getting lazier and lazier😭, I fucking hate y/n in this like fr I'm gonna kick her sorry little ass, seungmins is... suggestive...dirty talk and fingering only for like one line, so is hans lmao all happy endings because I am not sadistic... or realistic

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr

A/N ◦ honestly this is my super random chaotic thoughts I had at 2am bc I was really hating the way I was writing a love lived between the stars and the sea so I wanted to take a small break and clear my pallet I hope you all like it even though it lowkey sucks lmao <33

Also im lowkey fucking with making headcannons this is kinda fun...

~cookiecreates 🍪

chan

I feel like Chan would be the most emotionally mature about the whole thing, especially when he sees the storm brewing in your eyes before you even spit those venomous words.

"Fuck Chris, do you have to be so clingy all the time?" You shout, your mouth curling in a disgusted sneer.

You've never flinched away from him like that, never been so mean-

He's first hurt then he sees it-

There are cracks in your demeanor; large gashes in your heart; he could read you like an open book; the stories your soul wished to tell resided in your glassy eyes.

Hurt people hurt people.

You didn't think he was clingy; no, you loved his touch. You were simply overwhelmed, overflowing with so many simmering feelings—his love did not have room to shimmy through.

So he makes room-

He tilts your chin up with a sincere voice and asks, "What's the real reason why you are shutting me out?"

The unadulterated dedication in his words leaves you in shambles.

Chan would tear open his heart before your eyes just to prove that there are openings for your soul to pour all your pain into him.

and he would still find a way not to spill a drop

"It’s so hard,” you sob. “They told me you were too good for me, that I wasn’t enough. They said I should shut you out, run away before I got too attached. I had to make you hate me so that I could never weigh you down again."

Chan is fuming.

He wants to ask who said that? He wants to ask where they live? He wants to ask if you want to witness their destruction? He wants to ask if he should use a knife or a gun?

But instead, he says, ‘Darling, you would have more luck breaking the bounds of the moon than untangling the way you are threaded into my soul."

what. the. fuck.

Chan the next William Shakespeare up in here

...was this based on something I wrote for my new series...yes. am I ashamed... no.

I'm a hopeless romantic who wants to marry a poet.

Sue me.

You never thought the apocalypse would be so rewarding, because you are reeling, spinning out of orbit, a meteor spit out into space, hurling towards unknown destruction—destruction that tasted like fresh morning dew.

Chan was perfect.

what the fuck were you thinking?

He holds you through the night, chasing away the whistling of the cold winter wind, his warm arms creating a home around your heart.

lee know

do not ever ever ever ever ever ever ever call Lee Know clingy unless you are willing to dedicate your life into creating the next wheel of time because after you plant the seed in his head, he will blossom a garden of newfound insecurities.

"Can you please not be so clingy right now? I'm having a really bad headache," you whisper through the thick fog clouding your brain; you have been living with a red hot rod skewed through the back of your brain all day. You didn't mean to say the word clingy, but it is futile to search a thesaurus from a blurry page, and right now the world seems to be nothing more than a piece of abstract art.

He just wanted to hold you and you call him clingy??

To others, the sentence would be like water rolling off their backs, but to him, it was a ragged shard of glass stabbed straight into his chest.

Lee Know is extremely inexperienced in the world of intimacy, often clumsy with his actions—hesitant with his words, so why would you say such a thing?

Knowing how insecure he is??

You would only ever say it if you meant it fully and completely??

Honestly, in his head, he would be lowkey, really dramatic, but he's so beyond hurt, feeling like you're just picking at a gaping wound.

like I said, dramatic.

justified. yes.

dramatic... also yes.

I am a firm believer that his tough-guy act is only that.

an act.

He was pretending like he didn't care what you said, but when he gets into the other room, it takes everything in him not to shatter into a million different pieces, feeling so overwhelmed with how many emotions are coursing through him.

No matter how much you apologize after that, no matter how much you prove what you said was nothing more than your head foggy and in pain, it still will take lifetimes for that scar to fade.

and he will only ever get over it with a million reassurances and a thousand conversations

which you are willing to do as long as he needs it

changbin

Honestly, I dont really have a clue with this one, but I am definitely leaning towards him being more like Chan in the emotional mature way he handles it, but instead of comforting you at the drop of a hat, he just leaves the room and lets you stew on your sorrows.

"Your so clingy," you groan, shoving his arm off; rolling your eyes as the mattress shifts with his weight. You just want to be left alone. You weren't sad. You weren't mad. You were just tired and did not want to be touched.

In perspective, could you have handled it better? Yes, but what can you do now? I'm going to punch this bitch in the face I swear I hate y/n and I'm creating her

He's first very confused, then the hurt hits like a falling star crashing into his chest.

What do you mean he's clingy??

"Fine," he states, still dizzy from the utter whiplash you were giving him.

like what the hell?

Sleeps on the couch that night (bad idea don't do this)

He stews about it far past the dreams in his head

That is, until you trudge out of your bed in the morning with red-rimmed eyes and a face filled with regret.

After a shitty nights sleep without the heat of your boyfriend's arms, you realized very quickly what it would feel like if you were to never feel it again, and all of a sudden, you never want to be left alone like ever again.

The grudge he was previously trying to hold drained out of him, and in that instance, he jumps up, pulling you into his arms.

He is very quick to forgive you, when you voice your reason for snapping at him, was nothing but compressed frustrations manifested into the wrong source.

hyunjin

hyunjin. hyunjin. hyunjin.

I feel like in a fit of both hurt and the toxic trait of self-isolation, he would be petty and stay at the boy's house for a few days.

He had tried to give you a good morning kiss that day, but you were stressed and late for work, rushing to put on your clothes. The way he whined about wanting to be touched ground your gears beyond belief. You got stuck in your shirt, which was too tight after you shrunk it in the dryer, and your firm has yet to give you another one. Hyunjin's flighty hands wrapped around your waist, trying to help you untangle yourself from the mess of fabric, only for the button to get caught in your hair, pain ripping through your scalp.

"Stop it hyunjin!" you shout, attempting to unthread the way your hair has meshed into the slits of the button. "You're so fuckin' clingy."

It was all a mess—your heap of shifting fabric and jerking limbs, hair sticking up at every angle. His heart was crushed somewhere in a pulp on the floor in front of him.

He just wanted to help...

Your red-hot anger quickly bled into a tightening anxiety that pulled underneath your ribs as you imagined the look on your boss's face when you came in disheveled and late.

"I just wanted to help," Hyunjin sniffles, bouncing his eyes around the room, filling with tears. You heartlessly roll your eyes.

"Here come the waterworks," your voice is steady, flaming with annoyance mixed with a sickening tilt of mockery. His jaw drops.

you're being so mean

His ears burn when you glare at him, disgusted by the tears streaming down his cheeks. He desperately wipes his emotions away with the back of his hand, suddenly embarrassed to even be showing you the cracks in his soul.

He runs away, like, quite literally runs out the door, sprinting to his car and driving straight to the group's house, collapsing in a fit of sobs in Chan's arms.

He stays there for a good 3 days, ignoring all your calls and texts.

No matter how much it hurts his heart not to talk to you, he shuts you out in a weak attempt to show you what it would be like to live without him.

But this tactic is short-lived when you arrive at the boys' house, snot sobbing into his chest.

"i-im so sorry," you repeat over and over and over into his skin, hoping the further you dig into his chest, the closer the words will hit his heart.

He's not going to lie; no matter how much you cry, a little bit of pettiness will still stay during the conversation, a small scar of his hurt dictating his choices.

"Why didn't you come home? I thought we were over?"

"I thought that asking to sleep in the same bed as you would be too clingy"

Your heart cracks. He sees it, immediately regretting all his words.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps, pulling your head straight into his chest again.

You shake your head remorsefully, "No, I deserved that."

Even though so much of him still wants to be petty, his love for you trumps the feeling.

(I'm not forgiving you though wtf)

han (this one is long asf)

Han is freaking out.

I mean like the devil's bony hand gripping at the base of his spine, stale breath wafting down the skin of his neck type of freaking the fuck out.

You had a job that required you to go on-site, on-call often, like Han’s—that’s why you were so understanding about his busy schedule; yours was just as bad.

Today was a nightmare. Your coworker, the devil in disguise, didn't show up for the presentation she had created, and since she threw you under the bus saying you helped her (you didn't), you were forced to come in and present it.

Leaving Han at the restaurant waiting for you to arrive-

You forgot-

It was debatably the biggest presentation of the year, showing off her new design to multiple new investors, and yet your phone kept buzzing.

You told Han this was important

You never sent the message

You don't think you have ever seen your boss so furious

From Han's point of view, he's been sitting here for 2 hours, and you are still not here.

There are so many scenarios flying around in his head—

Are you okay?

Did you stand him up?

Are you breaking up with him?

Did you get kidnapped??

Han got tunnel vision when he was scared, his restless brain shooting out dire scenarios faster than he could decipher the impossibility of them. It was overwhelming. The walls were closing in on him. Nowhere in the world was safe. His head was swimming, the room was spinning, the earth was popping through space.

He keeps texting and calling and voice mailing. The icy anxiety crystallizing in the pit of his core turns his fingers brittle, creaking as he jams them into his phone screen.

He can't breathe.

Too many possibilities.

Untill-

Your boss got fed up with your phone ringing, screaming at you to go answer it since it was clearly more important than your job.

he was a prick

You answer it, the heat of your building anger curdling a deadly brew inside your soul. Without looking at the 200+ messages Han had sent you, you answer the 50th call of the day, immediately hissing into the speaker, "Do you know what you just did, Han? I got yelled at by my boss in the middle of a presentation because your clingy ass can’t exist without constantly needing my attention for more than 5 minutes. Stop texting me." Your finger smashes the end call button before unruffling your skirt and walking right back into the room.

Han feels like he might just melt straight into the seats, the way his whole body burns.

The whole world stops for a moment, the earth bleeding down the walls, swirling into pools of muddy color. He was sinking, lungs filling with the ink of a million different sweltering elements.

He ruins everything.

He was so wholly overwhelmed he could barely crawl into his car, desperately gripping the steering wheel while the earth collapsed in on him.

He ruins everything.

It's almost impossible to get to his house the way his tears blur the road.

(that's actually fr dangerous don't drive while crying)

He ruins everything.

He doesn't cry when you walk through the door.

He doesn't touch you when you run to him, standing over him, huddled on the floor.

He doesn't breathe as you cry over his body, twinkling in and out of consciousness.

He ruins everything.

Your makeup runs down your cheeks as you try to shake him awake.

He fainted in the kitchen. It wasn't uncommon when he was alone during his panic attacks, the anxiety ripping harsh bouts of oxygen from his lungs.

You squish his cheeks together, forcing his lips into a pout, shoving your faces together, pouring unadulterated passion into his system.

He short c i r c u i t s.

"I'm so sorry," you sob against his lips. "I didn't mean to be so mean. I didn't mean anything I said. I was just stressed, and I thought I sent the message telling you not to text me, and I didn't. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Your voice is high and wet, pushing his mouth deeper into yours.

It would be sceintifically impossible for your lips to get any closer-

and yet his tries.

He pulls your trembling body into his lap, fireworks exploding from the ashes where your words had lain.

"So you don't think I'm clingy?" His voice cracks, fresh tears collecting on the outer corners of his eyes. You have never shaken your head so adamantly in your whole life.

"No, never, never ever."

"Then come here."

You two have never been so close before in your life, hearts tangling in your chests as he presses your body into his.

You were going to prove just how much you loved his touch.

felix

Oh Felix, my kind sweethearted boy that deserves nothing less than prince treatment. He’s so kind, even though he’s so hurt. He’s actually scared he’s annoying you, so he makes himself more distant so he doesn’t bother you.

""Fuck, Felix, can you not see I am clearly just trying to relax? I mean, you don’t always have to be up my ass all the time," you snap, curling back up into the sheets Felix ripped off. You were exhausted—there was no excuse; you were just really tired. Felix, being the loving boyfriend he is, wanted to hold you while you slept, but of course, you being the dumb idiot you are, shouted at him.

are you stupid like fr cause like THE LEE FELIX WANTS TO HOLD YOU AND YOU SHOO HIM AWAY

you deserve federal prison

Felix is so many synonyms for destroyed that it should be physically impossible to still be alive with a heart that lies shattered in the pit of his stomach.

Felix doesnt know how to feel sad, angry, hurt, upest, embarrassed.

He just clenches his jaw, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling.

Felix has always been secretly self-conscious about the way he expresses his love toward people, often being very touchy-feely. He understands that this isn’t everybody's favorite thing and how it can get fairly annoying.

He’s already so terrified you’re going to leave him; he overanalyzes every interaction.

But this interaction did not need to be analyzed to know what you meant. You were very direct about that.

The way your venomous words attached to his stomach, pumping him with poison that swirled his stomach sick.

You don’t apologize when you wake up, not believing you need to justify yourself. He was being clingy, and you had every right to express your opinion about it.

im going to punch this bitch in the face

As surprising as this is, he actually doesn’t cry about it. He doesn’t cry about it because he is so worried that him crying about it would annoy you, so he would rather let his sadness seep into the back of his brain than show you emotions that could potentially turn you off.

Like I said, destructively kind.

He really takes what you said to heart, trying his best not to give you any skinship unless it’s to guide you through a crowded room or pull you away from the bustling activity of the road, holding your hand until you get to your destination.

He actually feels like he can’t function without your touch, but he muscles through it, relishing in the small actions he can get.

He tries to show his love in other little things that aren’t physical touch. It gets to the point where he is so deep in his head he shies away when you try to initiate skinship, terrified he’s going to get back into the habit of the joy of touching you and make himself seem annoying again.

He’s so beyond scared of being a nuisance.

It’s been two weeks with this flighty physical touch, and it all finally starts to click when you notice his smile isn’t nearly as bright anymore and some of the stars in his eyes have faded away.

"I want you to be clingy again, please, please, please. I mean, cling wrap, Kola. If you ever think you’re being too clingy, please hug me a little tighter. I’m an idiot, a complete and utter moron. Really, I should be evaluated on why I am even able to exist in society."

His heart literally bursts so relieved he can finally touch you again.

He gives you the most dopamine-coddling, brain-boggling cuddles known to mankind that night.

Your skin is so close together it feels like there isn’t a part of your body Felix doesn’t occupy.

He has created a home in your heart that no other man will ever stay, where he will rest until the day you fade away.

seungmin

Oh bro is pissed

"You're so clingy," you deadpan as his arms wrap around your waist. You had seen a stupid TikTok prank on your For You page and had the brilliant idea to try it on your boyfriend. But the way his whole body tenses against your skin, muscles rippling underneath your fingertips, you know you are so beyond fucked. "What did you just say to me, baby?"

well you just signed your death certificate

So many ideas brewing in that beautiful head of his-

Like, your ass will be red, your stomach will be painted, your mouth will be filled, and you will be descending into the grave. Like all the rest are lovey-dovey 'I’m sorrys,' no—your sorry will be told on your knees.

He will edge you intill you are teetering on the ledge of oblivion

"You want to cum, baby?" He's so condescending, easily lifting your waist from the sheets, his sticky fingers creating bruises when he pins your legs down to gain more access to ruthlessly abuse your g-spot.

"Yes, Yes, Yes, please," you beg, body trembling on the bed, large qaukes of pleasure rushing through your bones as his mean fingers plunge into your messy cunt.

"But that would be too clingy wouldn't it?"

oh how i want his fingers

(this one is really short bc i hate writing smut but i feel like this would be smutty)

jeongin

I honestly have no clue. I feel like he’d be more confused than anything because, like, me?

clingy?

mf I barely touch you?

Honestly, kind of annoyed more than sad—like pissed that as soon as he wants to touch you, you think he's clingy. But he's like Chan in the fact that he sees past your words and into the anger brewing in your eyes, allowing both you and him to cool off before he says something he will regret.

He just walks out of the room and lets you calm down.

I am also a firm believer that this man is healthy as hell.

He could tell that his heart was starting to beat a little too hard and his head was getting a little too fuzzy with all the raging words he wanted to say. But instead, he just walks away and lets you calm down, then talks to you about it before you go to bed because he is also an extremely firm believer in the fact that you should NEVER go to bed angry.

this one is shorter bc like I'm lowkey running out of motivation and ideas

did you like this? check out my new series a love lived in between the stars and the sea here

or maybe read doomsday here

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landograndprix · 1 year ago

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ iv

part iii - part v

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ they're making it way too easy for you two to fall into each others arms

➪ established relationship mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ 🥺 that's all I have to say. ( yes, I just figured out there a picture I used before but can't be arsed to change it 😭) also, if you haven't been tagged know that I either wasn't able to tag you or simply forgot to add to my list, I'm not ignoring you!

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by landonorris, joris__trouche and 372,433 others

y/nusername à propos de la semaine dernière ♡ (about last week)

tagged: manon_roux

view all 1,787 comments

charliecharlie zoë is growing way too fast 😫

leclerc_16 love watching y/n get more comfortable in her skin again, like yes babe you're hot glad you figured it out!

↳ bott_ass she no longer is just mom, she entered the milf era for real 😍

ikemike did charles fumble this already or not?

norrizz sexy mamma 😍

carlandooo what kind of half-assed bouquet is that?!?! Charles do better 😭

↳ norry4 looking like they were plucked from a garden he passed by on his walk 💀

carlandooo I know that it's the thought that counts but was there even thought put into this??

maxmaxmax he should take some notes from max and the bouquets he gives to kelly!

joris__trouche j'ai besoin de Zoë pour arrêter de grandir (i need zoë to stop growing)

↳ y/nusername je suis d'accord (I agree)

manon_roux pretty mamma with her pretty baby 😍

wagfits love the outfit! 🔥

charles_leclerc mon monde ❤️ (my world)

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y/nusername posted to their story

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y/nusername

📍 Doha, Qatar

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 378,791 others

y/nusername 🇶🇦

tagged: charles_leclerc

view all 1,189 comments

charlesgirlies finally some dad charles content again 🥰

↳ maxieverstap he finally realized he got a daughter back at home..

noellepicard oh zoë, she so pretty 😍

bott_ass cunt is going to be served this weekend with y/n back on the grid

leclerc_16 zoë 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

hamilt44n can't wait to see you pop up on my TV again!

yukisan if my kid doesn't end up as cute as zoë, I don't want it :(

landonorris papaya?

↳ y/nusername still not putting my daughter in your mclaren merch

landonorris man 😔

norrizz pls put zoë in some mclaren merch to stop him from nagging you 😭

charlos16 he really ain't leaving without a fight 💀

f1wags will you be on the track everyday or just the race?

manon_roux oh I want to eat that little girl so bad

↳ y/nusername babysitting rights revoked, we don't tolerate cannibalism in this house

manon_roux not fair 😫

carlandooo anyone noticed that she's been ignoring Noelle lately? 👀

landoscar impressed by how consistent lando is with liking everything y/n posts

↳ chilisainz post notification for sure

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y/nusername posted to their story

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @champagneproblems17 @norwayxo @sunny44

#charles leclerc x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #lando x reader #charles x reader

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amazinglyashy · 2 months ago

Note

hellow ash! Dropping here since I got hooked from the last post ehe. If it's okay...idk if its OOC but, can you do some shorts or fic on like mc just wanting a peaceful, quiet life? away from fighting or mental battle. Esp Raf and Sy, they canonly seem to be the ones with most hard-core agenda. What if MC just want peace, yet entangled with them is sureway of NOT having that life? can they make it happen? or will they just shield mc in her dream fantasy life while they battle the real world? as we know even mc herself is already target from many unwanted people...so how?? idk sorry for ramblinggg😫😫😫

(its kinda personal since if I could, I'd just live in a small town with a garden like harvest moon game, away from stress and ambitious grasp of capitalism, buttt yea that's a dream only 🥲🙃)

I'm a firm believer that MC is however me and my readers/requesters make them, so no worries about OOC here :D also don't ever worry about rambling, I always love your comments on my posts and works 😭😭❤️ I did my best, hope you enjoy!!

LaDS men when all you want is to live a quiet life -

Sylus -

He knows his way in and out of the world, and every which way to get what he wants. Still, knowing your wishes-

It's hard.

Not because it's not conducive in your relationship, no- he'd give you the world if you so much as asked him. But it is a bit... difficult, to say the least, trying to figure out how to acquire you the life you seem desperate for.

He does understand your reasoning, though.

He would do his best to first make some of his more rural safe houses even more habitable- style choices that fit your tastes, a nook for you to relax in or do work, and anything you could think of that would help with your hobbies. Those houses become your little retreat, and they always have anything you could ever want stocked to the brim.

Luke and Kieran visit you often, or will occasionally take you elsewhere for a day out in town or further in the city. Unbeknownst to you, it's usually when someone has been targeting you and Sylus is... taking care of it behind your back.

Even if he can't stop his work after being so deep after all these years- even if he can't stop the people who are constantly targeting you for simply existed- he's going to do absolutely everything within his power to ensure you get to live the life you have chosen.

Especially with him.

Zayne -

All he wants in life is to help you find your peace.

That's all.

If living a quiet life is what helps you achieve that, then he's all for it.

He may sheepishly admit to you just how worried your Hunter's Association job would make him, wondering if the next gurney wheeled into his operating room would be you after a particularly grueling battle, or after running into the wrong person who had been after you for what nestled within your heart.

So this is definitely a plus to him.

By extension, he's also perfectly fine if you want to be stay-at-home. He makes more than enough as a surgeon to support the both of you extremely comfortably, and he knows that life really... hasn't been the kindest to you.

He's used to a bit of a commute, just trying to fight out of his driveway in the city center, so if you want to live somewhere further out in order to have space to garden, he'll figure out how to make it a reality for you.

Sometimes, he'll come home with something new for you- a type of seed for the coming season, a new book, some fresh supply for a craft you've been working on- anything, and he takes a lot of pleasure in seeing the smile break across your face whenever he does.

Rafayel -

Oh that's easy. Four words-

Beach house + Sea God.

Easy.

Hearing your wish surprises him a little, but it's nothing if not relieving to him.

He's spent forever, and then again, just trying to find you and also ensure your safety- from both up close, and from afar. It's difficult with how much trouble you get yourself into, and with the trouble you don't get yourself into that just seems to find you.

Honestly, this just makes his life so much easier.

Rafayel is so used to soloing against people looking to do you harm or bring trouble to you, so this isn't too much different than what he used to do before you two met again. And if you come to live with him along the seaside, it's that much easier for him.

He's in his element, so discovering anything insidious lurking near is easy, and he can usually take care of the issue long before it could ever reach you, much less get to you and you finally getting to have a breather in life.

One of his favorite things is a quiet day at home with you, sitting high on a ladder as he works on another giant painting, working towards the top just so that he can peer out the window- he loves watching you work on the garden boxes he bought for you, even if you don't notice him yourself.

Xavier -

He's bared witness to everything you've been through- at least the worst of it. Anything he hasn't, you've definitely brought him up to speed with nervous laughs and late night conversation when the two of you were awake past when you should be.

So he knows.

He knows you mean it when you tell him your wish.

He also knows you more than deserve it.

Xavier will smile it off easily, asking you if that isn't already what you've been doing with him- snuggling during the colder months on the couch in his apartment, waiting for him to finish his assignments and come home to a half-finished movie and a stale bowl of popcorn you fell asleep eating. The butter was tacky now like the tips of your fingers against the blanket he'll need to wash tomorrow as he picks you up to take you to bed.

Living somewhere out of the city is doable to him, and he'll let you pick the place. Occasional visits into the city are a necessity, though- how else is he going to supply Jerimiah with the harvests from your gorgeous garden if not? It's a nice little living, in addition to whatever Xavier brings in.

It also helps him really appreciate the smaller things in life. He never really knew how much he would love dancing in the kitchen as the sun sets through the window, until now.

#love and deepspace #.writey #lads #lds #x reader #sylus x reader #rafayel x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader

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rafesfavgirl · 10 months ago

Note

gurl i neeed a part 2 of stop asking me to stay, that broke me😭😭😭

you ask, i deliver :) hope you like it!!

i don't regret a thing — r. cameron

part 1.

❝ we're not the only ones, i don't regret a thing every word i've said, you know i'll always mean ❞

pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader

context: you and rafe have been dating for seven months, and while the relationship started it out well, as soon as the honeymoon phase ended (about 3 months in), everything went to shit. you've been trying to put up with it, knowing the situation with ward, but tonight, you realize you've had enough.

words: 2.4k+

warnings: swearing, toxic relationship, mentions of drug use, mainly fluff, a little angst, might still make you cry. rafe being an absolute simp for you, basically.

rafe wakes up the next morning, faced-down on topper's living room couch with almost no recollection of what happened the night before. except one thing—you'd finally walked away from him.

"not enough to choose me. you give in every time." your words echo in his head, as he opens his eyes.

fuck. what did he do?

"good morning sunshine," kelce comes down the stairs and greets rafe, who looked as if he couldn't move from the couch. "you sleep well?"

"i slept like shit," rafe groans, finally sitting himself up. "what the hell happened last night?"

"you mean other than you getting coked out and royally screwing things over with y/n?" kelce sasses him. "not much bro."

rafe shoots him a glare. "i did not royally screw things over with y/n."

"are you sure about that?" kelce raises a brow at him. "cause i had to drive her home last night crying, bro."

rafe's ear perk up at kelce's confession of you crying over him. you wouldn't have. you were the one who broke up with him.

"she was crying?" rafe asks.

"do you seriously even have to ask?" kelce replies. "i can't even count on two hands how many times you've made her cry the last few months."

no, that couldn't be true. surely he hadn't made you cry that often.

"shut the fuck up kelce," rafe gets up from the couch in complete denial of how shitty he's treated you the last few months and makes his way over to the kitchen.

rafe opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of water, while kelce joins him in the kitchen.

"you know it's true," kelce says, leaning back against the counter and crossing his arms. "you just never see it, because she won't let you."

was he right?

"you know how y/n is, bro," kelce adds, as i take a sip of water. "she'll never let you know you're hurting her, because you fear nothing more than being the cause of her pain and losing her. but she's also not going to beg and cry for you to stay and fight for her."

i did know that. that's what i loved about her. she didn't necessarily play hard to get when i tried asking her out on a date after months of texting, but she didn't give in too easily either. she wanted me to prove i was serious about her before giving me a real chance. she knew her worth.

i recap the bottle i'm drinking from and set it down on the counter beside me, my eyes focused on kelce. "so what should i do?"

kelce holds his hands up. "if you don't know by now, i can't help you."

—

rafe wasn't an idiot. he knew what he had to do.

so, after going home and taking a shower to freshen up and get a change of clothes, he drove to the flower shop in town to get you a bouquet of lavender and baby's breath, then nothing bundt cakes to get your favorite treat—a white chocolate raspberry bundt cake—and finally, your house.

once he parked his truck in front of your house and got out, he went through his usual routine of rounding around to your backyard, where he moved the ladder the gardeners used towards your bedroom window.

he climbed up and knocked, balancing the flowers and bundt cake in one hand.

you were sitting in bed watching after we fell on your laptop with a box of tissues beside you and puffy, red eyes when you hear the knock on your window.

without even thinking about it, you already knew who it was. this was just what he did. and against your better judgment, you got up from your bed, and walked over to pull the curtains open and find rafe outside with a regretful look on his face, a bouquet of flowers and a small box of your favorite treat.

slowly, but surely, you unlock the window and pull it up.

"i'm sorry," he speaks before you can, and you scoff.

"you know, i'm getting real sick of hearing you say that," you reply, turning around to walk away and reposition yourself back on your bed, while he slips in through your window.

"i got you flowers," he offers you a small smile and holds both items out to you. "and your favorite bundt cake. white chocolate raspberry."

your eyes shift from the gifts in his hand to his piercing blue eyes. they were no longer dark like they were last night, but there was a sense of uncertainty in them. like he wasn't sure he could win you back.

"so what? am i suppose to just forgive you? just like that?" you retort.

he lets out a sigh, and takes a seat at the edge of your bed, placing both items down on your bed next to your box of tissues. he finally gets a good look at you—from the messy bun on your head, to the bags under your eyes from barely getting any sleep last night, to your red, puffy eyes—and realizes just how badly he's messed up this time.

"i should've just fucked all those other girls. at least they know how to have fun." he still couldn't believe he said those words to you last night.

"i don't deserve your forgiveness," he admits. "i know that. but i want it, y/n. and i'm willing to work for it."

while those words were music to your ears, you were apprehensive. he apologizes every time. and while things do change for a while, they're never permanent. and a week or two from now, you'd be back in this same situation again. was that really worth it?

"i know i don't deserve any more chances," he continues, his eyes only focused on yours. "but i promise… i promise just give me one more and you won't regret it."

your eyes shift between his. he looked a little… scared? was he really that afraid to lose you?

"i don't know, rafe," you say honestly, shifting a little. "you've hurt me so bad… i don't know if i can take you doing it one more time."

"i'm not going to," he immediately shakes his head and reaches out to take your hands in his, fiddling with your fingers and glancing down at them. "please, baby, please. just let me show you i'm the guy for you. that i can be the guy you need and want me to be."

"how?"

"you'll give me a chance?" he asks, his eyes lighting up at the idea of being given another chance to win you back.

despite your brain screaming at you not to, your heart wins over and you nod. you couldn't help it. every part of you yearned for him. and if he was willing to show you that he really could be the guy you knew he was—the guy you fell in love with—then maybe it would be worth it.

"wear something nice," he says. "i'll come back to pick you up at seven."

—

at exactly seven on the dot, you hear rafe park his car in front of your house, and look out your bedroom window to see him dressed in skinny black slacks and a long sleeve, white button down carrying a bouquet of red roses as he walked towards your driveway and front door.

you can't help the small smile that forms on your face as you hurry to strap your heels on and look at yourself in the mirror one more time, before grabbing your purse off your vanity and heading down the stairs.

"where are you heading off to?" your mom asks when you pass by the living room, all dressed up.

"date with rafe," you reply, walking towards the front door.

your parents had never been rafe's biggest fan—they weren't exactly unaware of how often he's made you cry the last couple of months—but they also knew they couldn't stop you from dating whoever you wanted, so they never fought you on it, and you were grateful for that. it was comforting to know they'd support you no matter what happened.

taking a deep breath, you place your hand on the doorknob, and finally open the door when the bell rings.

rafe's eyes instantly widen at the sight of you, his eyes trailing down your body wrapped in a tight, short, satin red dress. "wow," he gasps. "you- you look…"

your cheeks redden at his loss of words. "you don't clean up too bad yourself, cameron."

he smiles at your use of his last name as a nickname, and holds the red roses in his hand out to you. "these are for you."

"you already got me flowers this morning, you know," you joke, taking the bouquet from him. your mom was gonna be pleased to know rafe was back to filling up all her flower vases.

"i know, but…" he trails off. "you deserve the best."

the blush on your cheeks deepen at his words. "give me a second," you turn to walk back towards the living room, and set the bouquet down on the coffee table in front of your parents. "don't wait up."

they don't even get a word in before you're walking away again to join rafe outside.

"shall we?" you ask, looking up at him through your lashes, as you closed the door behind you.

"just… one more thing," a sly smile comes across his lips, as he reaches into his back pocket to pull out a black blindfold.

you stare at it, your mouth agape. "you're kidding, right?"

he shrugs, "i want it to be a surprise."

you groan, but give in anyway. "fine. but if i trip in these heels because i can't see where i'm going, consider us broken up for good."

he laughs at the threat, even though a part of him was afraid you still wouldn't forgive him after tonight. "you know i won't let that happen. turn around."

you do as he says, and he ties the blindfold around your eyes, before taking your hand in his and leading you down the driveway towards his car parked up on the curb. he opens the door for you, and carefully helps you into the passenger seat, before closing the door and rounding the car to get in the driver's seat.

the second the engine comes on, your romantic taylor swift playlist plays through the car's speakers.

"you didn't," you say. he would always complain when you had aux because she was all you'd ever play.

"i guess she's not too bad," rafe shrugs, chuckling as you began singing along to the lyrics of wildest dreams.

rafe continued driving through the island for another ten or fifteen minutes, before he finally pulled the car to a stop in front of his family's beach house on the edge of figure eight, completely secluded from everything else.

he gets out of the car first, and helps you out, taking your hand in his to lead you through the house and out to the back porch.

"are you ready?" he leans in towards your ear, and goosebumps rise along your skin at his proximity.

you nod, and he reaches his hands up to the back of your head to untie the blindfold.

it takes a little while for your eyes to adjust, but once they do, a feeling of warmness fills your heart at the sight in front of you.

red rose petals were scattered in the sand of the private beach, along with fairy lights, a candlelit table for two set up in the center of it all, as acoustic instrumentals of taylor's best love songs played through the speaker situated on the porch.

"you like it?" he asked.

you turn your head to look at him. "rafe, i… it's perfect."

"that's what i was going for," he shrugs smugly, and nods his head towards the set up. "come on."

you both remove your shoes, before he takes your hand in his again and leads you down the back porch to the table in the middle of the beach.

"i can't believe you did this for me," you say, as he pulls a chair out for you to sit in.

"i'd do anything for you," he smiles, taking the seat across from you once you're seated.

—

after a three course dinner and a bottle of wine, which was all served to the both of you by a waiter that rafe hired from the country club, the night slowly came to an end, an endless amount of stars filling the night sky above you.

but while you were focused on the stars, rafe was focused on you.

"god, you're beautiful," he says, causing you to look at him now.

you chuckle, "shut up."

"no, i'm fucking serious," he replied, standing up from his seat.

you watched him carefully as he walked over to you, and held a hand out.

you glance at his hand and tilt your head up at him, "what are you doing?"

"dance with me," he says.

"you're asking me to dance?" you raise a brow at him.

"mhm," he nods. "you gonna say yes?"

"well how can i say no?" you reply, a small smile forming on your lips as you put your hand in his.

he leads you a few feet away from the table, and rests a firm hand on your waist, as you trail a hand up to his shoulder.

he locks his eyes with yours as you both begin swaying to taylor's timeless, and scans your face.

"what?"

he shakes his head, "i don't deserve you..."

"rafe…"

"but i'm gonna do everything i can to make sure i become the kind of guy who does," he cuts me off. "i want to be better, y/n. not only for you, but for myself too."

you smile, and pull him closer, your hand snaking to the back of his head.

"i'm sorry for being such an ass the last few months," he says, and you close my eyes, taking the moment in as he continues. "i know i haven't deserved all the chances you've given me, but i'm not gonna disappoint you again. i want to be the guy you think i am."

you pull away, just enough to have your eyes lock with his.

"you are that guy, rafe," you tell him, and you mean it. "you just need to let him show more."

he smiles, "you're pretty damn amazing, you know that?"

"so i've been told," you shrug jokingly.

he chuckles. "i love you, y/n."

"i love you too."

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realcube · 6 months ago

Text

SUMMER SUNSHINE ༊*·˚

summer hcs + drabble w/ hq men

characters ☀ bokuto, nishinoya, ushijima, kageyama & oikawa

tws/tags ☀ ts! all, gn! reader, water gun violence, slightly suggestive, mentions of drowning, swearing & parent!kageyama. overall sfw.

BOKUTO KŌTARŌ

☀ lives for the pool !!

☀ once he gets msby money , he defo buys a house with a big ass pool

☀ as soon as it slightly exceeds 20℃ he will be BEGGING you to swim with him and have a pool day

☀ and remind him that since it's a pool in your own garden, he can swim in it whenever he wants on his own and you don't have to be there with him

☀ but he protests by saying he just wants to spend time with you and it's 'no fun' without you

☀ PLS just go with him

☀ he will so make it worth your while

☀ he spends most of his time swimming and doing tricks in the water and cool dives

☀ and he'd want you to get in with him so y'all can swim about together, little mermaid style

☀ but even if you don't want to do that, and would rather chill on the grass/ on a floatie with a good book or tanning

☀ he will find a way to involve you by getting you to take pictures or videos of his water backflips and handstands and stuff 😭

☀ firstly so he can send the tapes to his friends and secondly so he can show off to you

☀ bc clearly your boyfriend is gifted not only in the volleyball department but he's also a diver????

☀ and if you do swim about with him, he'd be so pleased by that and y'all would have so much fun together

☀ but he has so much stamina that you'd end up tired out way before he is

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

you trudge out of the water, making your way back towards the pool lounger. it takes bokuto a couple minutes to notice you are gone because he is busy checking how long he can hold his breath underwater, but eventually he does, then he rushes over to you. "(y/n)! what are you doing?"

"i'm going to rest, bo. i'm so tired." you pant, flopping face-first down onto your towel and nuzzling into the soft fabric. bokuto quickly lays down next to you and turns his head so he is making eye-contact, partially pushing you off because the lounger is big but definitely not spacious enough for two people, let alone one as muscular as bokuto.

"but you didn't even get to see how long i can hold my breath for!" he whines, doing a poor job at sounding frustrated as he gently moves a wet strand of hair out of your face.

you sigh covertly, heavy eyes drooping shut, "why don't you show me now?"

"but we're not under water."

"that doesn't make a difference, sweetie." you reassure him, and he nods thoughtfully, as that did make sense. wow, he has such an intelligent, s/o! he beamed a this own internal monologue, before promptly inhaling sharply so his cheeks were full with air, then squeezing his nostrils shut.

and that is how you got peace and quiet for around two minutes and nine seconds. (he almost passed out)

NISHINOYA YŪ

☀ y'all are always travelling all over the place

☀ swimming with dolphins, hiking through forests, skydiving, lounging at some of the most gorgeous beaches in the world

☀ it's almost like eternal summer for you two

☀ you've basically seen and lived it all so one of the most novelty ways you could spend your summer, is just at home

☀ enjoying the little things; like sitting in front of the fan in searing heat, or barbequing, or water balloon/water gun fights

☀ oh noya loves water gun/balloon fights !! and he gets into it too!!

☀ v competitive, even with you , whom he loves the most in the entire world, but he's still gonna kick your ass lol

☀ it can get a little childish but it's essential to channel you're inner feral kid to stand a chance at winning a water gun fight 😌

☀ he loves chasing you around, getting you soaking wet, and hearing your little laughs and yelps

☀ but he also likes when you're equally as competitive as him

☀ and try to hide and sneak up on him

☀ or if you use an ice bucket 😭 he'd scream and have to get you back for that one

☀ don't let him anywhere near you with that ice bucket though.. especially in a light-colored shirt.. his intentions are not pure

☀ omg he uses psychological warfare too

☀ like if you're beating him and spraying him he's like 'alright alright you got me!!' and drops his water gun/balloon and puts his hands up in surrender

☀ so when you stop, he throws his arm around you and pulls you in for a drenched hug and kisses over your cheeks and face

☀ then , as you both close your eyes and you lean in for a proper kiss, he pulls out a tiny water pistol he had hidden in his shorts and squirts you in the face and laughsss

☀ and it's only a tiny amount of water so it doesn't do any real harm but it's the TREACHERY that got you

☀ smh you had to give that man a taste of dirt after that

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

you have him cornered, he frantically pulls the trigger of the water gun but nothing comes out; he's got no ammunition left. a sinister smile inches across your lips as you creep towards him, "final words?" you say dramatically, thinking about where you should spray him first.

his expression contorts into one of dismay and fear when he realises there is no way out, and his breathing falters. eyes drifting closed, he is about to accept his fate...

...until he hears a familiar chime in the distance.

"wait, (y/n)!" he calls, just as you are about to aim your water gun.

"ugh, what?" you groan.

"do you hear that?" he pauses, the silence allowing you to also hear the tune ring from afar.

"the ice-cream van?" you cock an eyebrow, you're face exhibiting all fifty shades of unimpressed, "do you really think i'm going to pass up revenge for ice-cream?"

"i'll buy you an ice-cream sandwich!" he bargains.

you narrow eyes at him, threatening stance unwavering.

"and a slushie!" he adds.

your eyes-widen, and you instantly drop the gun, pivoting on your heels towards the front door, "hurry up, then!" you urge, and noya is hot on your tail, brimming with laughter.

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI

☀ with some more time-off during the summer, you suggested ushijima find a new hobby to keep him occupied while you were at work

☀ when he asked you for suggestion, you told him just to do whatever he felt like, but you did also mention that there was a flower bed in your garden that looked awfully bleak and unkempt

☀ it was a mere recommendation though, and if he didn't want to do it, that was more than alright

☀ after all, with the amount he makes, y'all have more than enough to hire a gardener to fix it for you. or just a landscaper who will fill it in and build a gazebo on top or something

☀ but ushijima takes your words as command and if you, his favourite person in the world, wants to see flowers in that bed. then he will put flowers in that bed!!! it's just that simple

☀ although he doesn't know where to start, but after some time browsing blogs and online articles, he comes to the conclusion that he best place to begin was to buy some flower seeds and starters

☀ and toshi , being the man he is, has somewhat of a natural green-thumb

☀ and these flowers and thriving in no time

☀ while he is outside, you mostly just stand by the window with a tea/coffee in your hand, watching him work in his cute little straw sun hat you bought him, occasionally calling out to him and saying he's doing such a good job, to which he will look at you and flash a small smile

☀ because you don't pay very much mind to him and his gardening antics bc you assume it's a phase that is going to pass as soon as another game season starts

☀ but no , his gardening hobby is here to stay

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

you come home after a long day of work, utterly tired and sore. you hobble into the kitchen with the intention of tossing your bag on a chair before you head upstairs, but are pleasantly surprised when you're met with a romantic sight.

ushijima has set the dining the table with the finest cutlery and cloth, upon which there was three candles that illuminated the area. the aroma of your favourite meal also wafted through the air, so your gaze darted around the room, until you noticed it two plates of it on the kitchen counter, which ushijima carefully transfers to the table.

once he sees you enter, he stands up straight and makes his way over to you, with his hands hidden behind his back, planting a firm kiss on your cheek.

you smile, and lean into him, gazing up with a foolishly wide grin, "what's all this?"

"dinner." he states plainly, then reveals what was behind his back. a large bouquet, filled with all kinda of different and colourful flowers. you gasp at the sight, hesitant to hold such a beautiful masterpiece.

"this is stunning, toshi." your voice shakes with emotion, as you sniff the flowers to soak in their sweet smells, "where did you get this from?"

"i grew them."

your eyes widen, as you look between the bouquet in your arms and your stoic boyfriend, who appears dead-serious. "you did? but there are so many." you can hardly hold them all.

"the garden was fruitful."

the tears that previously welled in your eyes spilled over your cheeks, and you push yourself into him to bury yourself in his strong chest. "thank you so much, wakatoshi. this means so much to me." you sob, your tears dampening the fabric of his shirt.

ushijima is rather taken back by your reaction. he expected you to be apprecitive but he didn't understand how some flowers had moved you to tears, though he rubbed your back comfortingly, none the less.

what he decided in that moment was that he would be gardening for the forseeable future. regardless of how many hours squat in the blistering heat or chilling winters it would take, he would grow a bouquet filled with all your favourite flowers for every season. because your smile alone makes every single arduous hour worth it.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

☀ during summer he has less hours training with the adlers so he wants to spend every free moment he has with you + the kids

☀ just doing random domestic stuff

☀ he's the type of dad who wants to spoil them rotten and take them to all sorts of fun places

☀ like monday it's the fair, tuesday it's the waterpark, wednesday it's the zoo, thursday it's the softplay.. and so on

☀ if it wasn't for the fact he has a terrible history in booking his own flights, he would have flew the kids to disneyland by now

☀ but he's so high intensity in such a short amount of time bc he feels like he needs to spend as much time with them as he can right now otherwise when he goes back to work they are gonna forget all about him

☀ but you're like they don't have the energy for two days out in a row 😭 so kags needs to find something he can do in the house with them

☀ so he buys one of those massive jungle gyms for the back garden to keep them entertained

☀ but the two things he didn't account for:

☀ 1) he would need to build it himself

☀ which he fails at so bad but he CAN'T ask you for help otherwise you'll think of him as a useless husband (you won't but that's his thought process)

☀ so it takes him like ten days to build it properly

☀ but even when he finishes it looks unstable so you're like 'kags.. test it out'

☀ and he gets mad defensive and is like 'do you not trust my abilities?!?!'

☀ and you're like 'ok if you're not going to test it out, i will'

☀ and when you start walking towardshis construction he is literally sweating bc he knows it's fucked up

☀ so he's like 'fine!! i'll test it' and lo and behold it collaspes over him and y'all need to hire a professional to fix it

☀ 2) the other thing he didn't take into consideration is that the kids want him to play on it with them .. meanwhile he is 6'2" and quite frankly cba

☀ he tries to play with them from outside the jungle gym but your kids are menaces and won't let up until their dad goes down the slide with him

☀ and that's the story of how your husband got caught in a tube slide 😞

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

your kids got bored of the jungle gym quickly and were now asking for something else to play with in the backyard. however, after the construction incidient, your confidence in kageyama's handiness has plummeted enough that you do not trust him to build a trampoline, so instead you buy some chalk and tell him to draw some games on the concrete like snakes and latter or hopscotch.

it's simple enough, but it's been taking him quite a while. so, you whip up some fresh lemonade and bring it out to check upon him, "how's the drawing going, tobio?"

he looks up at you, wipes the sweat off his forehead, and happily takes a drink off your tray, then takes a large gulp. "thanks, babe. and it's going fine. 'm almost done."

he says, and stands up to show you the whole game. he chose hopscotch, and draw all the numbers in cute little hearts. admittedly, some were a little wonky but the effort is so sweet. you smile brightly, and place a kiss on his cheek, to which he can't help but smirk. "looks grea—"

just as you are about to utter a compliment, something out of the corner of your eye that causes your heart to plummet. you stare at the error for a moment, and blink a couple times to ensure you aren't imagining it. once you establish for certain what you're seeing is correct, you sigh and say, "kags. draw a three for me."

he raises his eyebrows but doesn't question it. he gets on his knees and draw a three seperately from the hopscotch grid, and to your dismay, it looks like "Ɛ", just as it appears inside the heart.

you look between his sweet, innocent face, and the messed up three he had just written. your children were in their formative years so you didn't want them to learn their numbers from this faulty hopscotch grid, but you also couldn't bring yourself to correct kageyama and watch his ego crash again. so, you bite your tongue and force a smile, "good job." you pat his back and press another kiss on his cheek, "i'm gonna head inside. maybe later we can talk about sending our kids to private school."

internally he is rather jarred by the sudden change in conversation, but he brushes it off and gives you a final squeeze before you walk away.

OIKAWA TŌRU

☀ takes you to the beach ofc !!!!

☀ would love to see you dress up in a swim suit or sun dress in theory bc you look so hot

☀ but in practise, when y'all actually go to the beach and he realises other people can see how hot you look as well, that puts him off and makes him a lil jealous

☀ but!!! thank the lord he is sexy and he knows it bc as soon as a guy merely looks in your direction, he will have his arm wrapped around you in seconds

☀ or start applying sunscreen to your back or chest , and if you're like 'tōru , i've already got my spf on' , he'd just go 'well you can never be too safe! 😇 don't want you to burn, sweetheart!!'

☀ meanwhile he is covertly death-glaring the ppl checking you out

☀ so yeah pls don't get insecure bc no one hits on you while you're at the beach , it's all oikawa's doing

☀ might play beach volleyball or make a tiny sand castle with you if you ask nicely but mostly wants to chill and tan and soak up the sun

☀ and take pics :p

☀ ok you might think he is an ego maniac for this but he so wants you to take candids of him and all sorts of other pics while he is posing

☀ him laying on the towel , looking up at the camera with his sunglasses lowered , winking

☀ ARGH

☀ he's so photogenic it makes you mad actually

☀ but you still take pics of him bc it's kinda fun telling him what poses to do and stuff 😔 you're like 'you need to give me photo creds...'

☀ bc if the artistic vision is left down to him, he's gonna want you to take photos of him jogging across the beach, with his hand running through his hair like in baywatch smh

☀ you upgrade his instagram game sm

☀ omg his follower probably know when he got a s/o / which photos are taken by you vs him bc his feed goes from looking very bland and thrist-trappy to being a literal pinterest wet dream

☀ like even if y'all are in a down-low type of relationship, it's just SO obvious when he gets a partner

☀ also his fans/followers LOVE you even if they don't know who you even are bc he hasn't hard-lauched yet / you want to stay private and they have to give you some silly fandom mystery person name like "gfkawa"/"bfkawa" or "towsnbp" (the one who shall not be photographed)

☀ they are STILL obsessed

☀ and dw he takes pics for you too

☀ and he takes that shit seriously too , like he will lay on the ground, balance on one hand or literally do an aerial if that is what it takes to get your best angles

☀ you're naturally gorge though so he doesn't need to try that hard, but he's willing to !!

☀ he's pretty good at taking pics too and you always come out looking stunning but that always drives him CRAZY

☀ oh and he's always taking candids of you (especially at the beach) without having to be asked and he obliges when you ask him to show you but if you want him to send you the photos so you can post them, he's gonna be like , 'erm no these are mine thank you 😗'

☀ he's not sharing!!!

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

you're laying down on your towel, enjoying the sun and although your eyes are closed, you notice when the warmth is suddenly blocked by a tall body in the way. you open your eyes to see oikawa standing over you, smiling, "you look beautiful, (y/n). lemme take a picture."

you nod, blushing, and hand him your phone. he snaps a couple shots of you, for which you pose. he grins once he done, scrolling through them.

you frown, sitting up and making a grabbing motion at him, "let me see!"

he kneels down besides you and tilts the phone over so you can scroll through the pictures he took, and as usual, they are quite nice, in your opinion. though oikawa gazes at them with eyes sickeningly sweet and sappy. you watch as his thumb moves to send the photos to himself, and you pressed your cheek against his arm and purr, "awh, thank you, sweetie. you did su— oi, what're you doing?!"

you bark, watching him delete the photos off your phone after they're finished sending, and you snatch the device out of his hand too late as they are already gone. you glare and him and he simply shrugs, with an innocent aura, "you looked too good. i didn't want you posting those anywhere."

he explains, and you huff, crossing your arms over your chest. you should've expected his behaviour from him. "now the only photos i've ever looked nice in are gone. thanks, loserkawa."

"they're not gone. i still have them." he commented, squishing your cheeks, amused and enamoured by your little sulk, "and we both know those aren' the only photos you've ever looked good in. you're beautiful in every single one."

you pout, shaking your head out of his grip and flopping back onto the towel. he laughs and taps your nose, planting a kiss on your cheek too, "wow, and you call me a drama queen."

443 notes · View notes

seongwars · 25 days ago

Text

𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 | 𝐭𝐰𝐨

Pairing: Viscount!Choi San x Countess!Reader AU: non-idol | regency Rating: T/NC-17 Summary: After falling prey to one of Choi San’s cruel games, you vowed yourself to a life of eternal spinsterhood. But when a fire leaves the Choi estate in ruins, the very man you swore you would never forgive re-enters your life. Word Count: 6.2K Warnings: one swear word, minor violence, use of firearms, inaccurate depictions of the era (sorry history buffs 😭)

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a/n: happy new year everyone! 2024 was certainly a tough year for a lot of us but i'm manifesting brighter days for us in the new year!

The late summer air felt stifling to San as the Choi family’s carriage approached the Kang estate. Even with the screens lowered, the faint breeze that slipped through offered little relief from the oppressive heat. He focused on the rhythmic clatter of the wheels, trying to drown out the whirlwind of emotions brewing inside him.

The fire that had left the Choi estate partially burned had started in the kitchen, but its cause remained a mystery. It had spread swiftly, destroying much of the west wing before the servants managed to bring it under control. Though the main manor was spared total ruin, the damage was extensive. Repairs would take months, leaving the family no choice but to seek refuge with anyone willing to take them in.

His parents sat across from him, speaking in hushed tones but he wasn’t listening. He had heard this conversation often enough in the past weeks to know where it would lead.

“Would this not be the perfect opportunity to get close to Y/N?” Viscountess Choi remarked, her voice deceptively light.

San felt a knot tighten in his stomach, realizing where this conversation was headed. The subtle shift in his mother’s demeanor, the way her lips curled into a knowing smile, made it clear that she had plans for him—plans that involved you.

“Do you not find it inappropriate, mother, to discuss alliances when our home was nearly reduced to ash?” he replied, his voice laced with a bitterness he couldn’t entirely suppress.

Viscountess Choi’s smile didn’t waver. “Precisely why this is the perfect time,” she replied smoothly, her words tinged with a maddening confidence.

“The Kangs have graciously opened their home to us. It would be unwise not to show our gratitude.”

Gratitude. That’s what she was calling it now. San clenched his jaw, his gaze returning to the passing scenery outside the carriage window. He knew better than to argue when his mother’s mind was already made up. But the idea of using his family’s misfortune as a stepping stone for her ambitions made his stomach churn.

There had been something between you once, though calling it close now felt like a cruel twist of fate. San had always been someone who commanded attention, whether he sought it or not. His charm, once something he wielded effortlessly in your presence, was now a weapon that had turned against him.

He had spent countless nights over the years replaying that moment in the garden, as if by thinking about it enough, he could somehow undo it. But no matter how many times he revisited it, the outcome was the same. You had trusted him, opened yourself to him in a way no one else had, and he had destroyed it all in a single reckless moment.

No matter how many letters he wrote, how many conversations he rehearsed in his mind, it was as though he had been erased from your world. And perhaps, in a way, he had.

Whenever you were near, it felt as though the air itself had grown colder. You would sweep past him at gatherings, head held high, never sparing him a second glance. You spoke to everyone but him, and when your gaze brushed over him, it was like staring through empty space.

He had done this to himself. He had betrayed your trust in the most humiliating, selfish way possible. And your brother made sure to remind him of that. Yeosang had come storming into the club the very next evening after the ball.

San could still recall the moment vividly, every detail seared into his memory.

“Where the fuck is he!?”

San only had a moment before Yeosang came bearing down on him, his fist connecting with his jaw. The impact was staggering, sending him reeling backward into a table, knocking over bottles and glasses in a chaotic crash.

“Of all the people in this world, you made a wager on my sister?”

San’s eyes darted between Yeosang and the crowd, his shock turning to regret as he slowly began to comprehend the magnitude of his actions.

“I never meant to hurt her.”

The regret in his expression was immediate, but it did nothing to quell the fire in Yeosang’s eyes. He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper that was somehow more terrifying than his entrance.

“Did you think you could just make a fool out of her and walk away unscathed? That you could treat her like some plaything, and there wouldn’t be consequences?”

San swallowed hard, the reality of his actions finally crashing down on him. He had played the game too far, crossed a line he could never uncross.

“I’m sorry,” he managed, his voice barely audible, the words tasting hollow and useless even as he spoke them.

“Sorry?” Yeosang repeated, his voice dripping with disdain.

“Do you really think a simple apology can undo the damage you’ve caused to her reputation?”

Yeosang leaned in, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper that was heard by everyone in the stunned crowd.

“Let me remind you of something,” he continued, his tone darkening with every syllable.

“Contrary to what the rest of your bastards think, my sister is not some wallflower you can toy with and discard. If I’d let her have her way, she’d have set the hounds on you and hunted you through the woods herself.”

Yeosang’s gaze remained fixed on San, his eyes blazing with an intensity that brooked no argument.

“You’re lucky,” he hissed, “lucky that I’m the one standing here tonight and not her. Because if she were here, you’d be running for your life right now, and there wouldn’t be a soul in this room who could save you.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving San alone in the center of the room, the eyes of everyone upon him, the full weight of his actions bearing down on him like an unforgiving storm.

He had turned something precious, a genuine connection, into a game, a fleeting moment of amusement at the behest of his peers. And in doing so, had ruined any chance of earning your trust or your friendship, perhaps even more.

The Kang estate came into view, an impressive silhouette against the sky, and the knots in San’s stomach tightened. He wasn’t sure if it was the looming confrontation with your family or just the fact that you were inside, somewhere, plotting against him.

As the carriage approached the gates, a commotion reached their ears. San squinted, his brows furrowing. The sound of your voice carried through the air, clear and indignant.

San blinked. The footman hadn’t even opened the carriage door yet, but the clamor outside piqued his curiosity. He stepped out on his own, descending the steps cautiously as he tried to make sense of the chaos erupting from the grounds.

“Kang Y/N, stop this nonsense!”

The sharp voice rang out, unmistakably that of Lady Kang, her tone tinged with exasperation and disbelief.

“You are not becoming a nun just because the Choi family is staying with us!”

San’s lips parted, but before he could question what was happening, a blur of movement caught his eye. Down the main path leading to the estate, he saw you, clutching a little sack in one hand and lifting your skirts with the other as you darted away. You whipped around, casting a glance over your shoulder as your mother pursued you, flanked by two bewildered servants.

“You’re asking me to endure the unspeakable horror of living under the same roof as Choi San!”

San felt his breath catch in his throat. Of all the ways to be greeted, this was not one he had anticipated. For a moment, all he could do was watch the spectacle unfold, half wondering if he should intervene or simply retreat back into the carriage and pretend he hadn’t witnessed any of this.

But then your eyes snapped to him, and his breath hitched. You froze mid-step, staring at him as though his mere presence had upended all your carefully laid escape plans. Your hair was slightly mussed, your face flushed, and despite your obvious distress, there was a defiance burning within your eyes.

You had changed. The sharp wit he remembered was still there, but the woman standing before him now was entirely different, a force to be reckoned with. In that moment, everything about you seemed to shine brighter, commanding his attention in a way that left him breathless.

Was it too late? Or was there, against all odds, still a chance? Perhaps this would be the fateful encounter where you’d be reunited after four long years, and begin to rebuild the connection he’d so carelessly destroyed. Or–

“You!” you sputtered, your cheeks burning with equal parts humiliation and indignation.

And just like that, his hopes were shattered.

San straightened instinctively, his heart lurching as he grasped the carriage door for support as he blinked at you, confusion plain on his face.

“Me?” he asked, pointing to himself as if there were any chance you were yelling at someone else.

“Mr. Choi!” Lady Kang’s voice rang out, skirts swishing with enough force to send a servant scuttling out of her path.

“Mr. Choi, stop her!”

San blinked again, his gaze darting between you and your mother. Stop her? He glanced at the sack clutched tightly in your hands, then at the determined set of your jaw, and then back to your mother, who seemed moments away from fainting.

Your movements were sudden and sharp as you darted past the gates and onto the estate’s main road. San’s eyes widened, and without thinking, he took a hesitant step forward.

“M-Ms. Kang! Wait!” he called out, his voice rising in pitch as he tried, and failed, to process what was happening.

You didn’t slow down. If anything, his call only seemed to spur you on, your legs pumping faster as your mother shouted from behind him.

“Is something the matter with Y/N?” Viscount Choi asked, poking his head out the carriage door.

San turned halfway, floundering for words. “Uh, well–”

Lady Kang was practically in hysterics, still clutching at the folds of her skirts as she tried to regain her composure. She spun on her heel, a forced smile plastered on her face as she approached San's parents, who were now fully out of the carriage and observing the unfolding chaos with mild amusement.

"Viscount and Viscountess Choi," your mother greeted, her voice an octave higher than usual.

She spread her arms as if trying to shield them from the scene of servants half-collapsed in exhaustion, Joe bent over with his hands on his knees, and you, a fast-disappearing figure on the horizon.

“Is it always this lively here?” the viscount asked with a hearty chuckle. His footmen were unloading the trunks, seemingly unbothered by the commotion.

Lady Kang’s smile twitched dangerously, but she nodded in agreement, her fingers twisting anxiously in her skirts.

“Oh, yes. Quite lively! It’s never dull here at our humble estate.”

“I can see that,” San’s mother remarked, her tone bordering on bemused as she exchanged a glance with her husband.

“It seems your daughter is rather…spirited this morning.”

“She’s just getting some fresh air! It’s been a long week preparing for your arrival, after all! Come, allow me to show you to your quarters. There’s plenty of room here for everyone!”

San barely registered their exchanges, his mind still reeling from the scene that had just unfolded. Your departure struck him as a sharp reminder of the pain he caused you years ago. Four years had passed since he had recklessly used you in a wager, and yet, here you were, fleeing from him and the mess he created.

He knew he had no right to feel this way, no right to want to make things right when he’d been the one to destroy everything between you. But the thought of you with your unrestrained fury made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t ignore.

This was supposed to be an opportunity for his family, a chance to rebuild after the fire that had brought them to the Kang estate. But for San, it already felt like a return to the very thing he’d been trying to escape—his own mistakes.

⊹

The dining room was suffocating. Servants moved about, arranging dishes with care, the clink of silverware and the soft murmur of polite conversation filling the space. The voices of your mother, the Viscountess, and Yunho wove around you, their cheerful tones grating on your nerves.

After Jason and your mother dragged you back to the manor, you’d barely had time to shake off the humiliation of your failed escape attempt. The skirt of your dress was dusty, littered with debris from the tree you had climbed, and your hair was a windswept disaster, complete with leaves that clung stubbornly despite your frantic attempts to smooth them away. Every inch of you felt like a spectacle, and you trudged up the steps, wishing the earth would swallow you whole before anyone, particularly him could catch sight of your current state.

Not that it mattered. The more displeasing you were to Choi San, the better. He was an intruder in your life, a thorn in your side, and you were determined to make him regret every second he spent on your family’s estate.

That’s it! All you had to do was make yourself so insufferable that San would want to leave of his own accord. As you plotted against him, you mindlessly rounded the corner near the drawing room, only to find yourself face-to-face with none other than the man himself.

San stopped in his tracks. His dark eyes roamed over your disheveled state, taking in every humiliating detail. Yet his expression was uncharacteristically soft and curious, and the subtle rise of his brow suggested he wanted to say something, yet he remained silent, as if he, too, was caught off guard by the moment.

Your face warmed under his attention and you stiffened, determined not to look flustered even as his gaze lingered. This was already humiliating enough without him turning it into an opportunity to tease you further.

With your head held high, you brushed past him, ignoring the dust on your dress and the leaves tangled in your hair. His gaze followed you as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real, like he had been waiting years just to see you again and wasn’t sure if this moment was a dream.

San sat across from you at dinner, his shoulders rigid, his hand hovering with uncertainty over his glass as if caught between drinking and fidgeting. You refused to look at him directly, though occasionally, you felt his gaze land on you. Each time it happened, your grip on the knife tightened, and you deliberately lifted it just enough to send a message.

His gaze flickered away immediately, his ears turning an alarming shade of red.

Beside you, Yeosang sat in silence, his brow furrowed as he cast you a sidelong glance. He had clearly noticed your little game and seemed torn between amusement and disapproval. Thankfully, he said nothing, though his lips twitched once or twice as if he was holding back a laugh.

“Before I forget,” Yunho announced suddenly, breaking through the polite murmur of conversation, “I’ll be hosting a hunt at my family’s estate in a few weeks.”

“Oh, how splendid!” your mother exclaimed, her voice overly bright.

“Y/N, you’ll attend, of course.”

Your knife paused mid-air, hovering over the roast pheasant on your plate. You shot your mother a pointed look, the corner of your mouth twitching in irritation.

Your mother had always adored Yunho, he was your brother’s best friend, after all. Perhaps it was due to his boundless energy and unfaltering cheer, that mamas within the ton fawned over him more than their daughters did.

“Worry not, Your Grace,” you replied, tone dripping with exaggerated sweetness. “I’ll try not to embarrass you.”

“And you, Mr. Choi? Will you be joining us? Or is hunting not your kind of sport?”

San stiffened slightly, his posture straightening as he met Yunho’s gaze. His jaw tensed, and for a heartbeat, he didn’t answer, his fingers tightening around the stem of his wine glass.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” San replied coolly, though the slight grit in his tone betrayed his irritation.

The viscountess chimed in with a lighthearted comment about the joys of hunting, but the tension between Yunho and San was palpable. You could feel it radiating across the table, an unspoken battle of wills that neither man seemed willing to concede.

Men, you scoffed, picking up your glass. Whatever ridiculous posturing or rivalry Yunho and San were engaged in, didn’t concern you.

While your mother would likely fret over your attire and the chance to parade you before eligible bachelors, you had far more practical matters to attend to. Your hounds, loyal and eager, needed to be checked over, their training refreshed. You’d also have to inspect your firearms, ensuring they were polished and in proper working order.

If you were to endure the company of San and the Viscount for the hunt, you might as well have a little fun at their expense. Men were often so boastful about their skill with firearms, yet so easily unnerved when confronted with a woman who wielded them with confidence.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have rifles that need polishing and hounds that need training,” you announced, setting down your silverware. The murmurs of conversation around the dinner table faltered as heads turned your way, but you ignored the curious glances.

“Viscount, if you are so much as interested, you are more than welcome to glance over my late father’s collection. It’s quite impressive, even if I say so myself.”

The Viscount’s eyes lit up, a gleeful grin spreading across his face. "I remember the first time I saw it," he said, gesturing animatedly with his hands.

"I assumed he’d stolen half the royal armory! I’ve been wanting to get my hands on one of his French imports for years!"

"Father did have a fondness for Le Page pistols,” you added in an attempt to prolong the conversation just enough to needle your mother. But before the Viscount could say more, your mother cleared her throat delicately, her eyes narrowing in that way she always did when she sensed you veering off the path of propriety.

“Y/N, it is hardly appropriate to abandon dinner so abruptly,” she chided softly, her tone laced with forced politeness.

You leaned back in your chair with an innocent smile, meeting her gaze with just enough defiance to make your intentions clear.

“Apologies, mother, but preparations for the hunt cannot wait. Besides,” you added with a touch of nonchalance, “Norman hasn’t been let out of the kennels all day.”

“Norman?” she repeated, her voice rising slightly, her composure beginning to slip. Her expression shifted from mild disapproval to thinly veiled horror, and you had to suppress a laugh.

“You cannot possibly mean to bring that dog into the house!”

“He’s my best companion and hunter. Loyal, well behaved, and far less troublesome.” You let the words linger, then turned your eyes deliberately toward San, your glare sharp as you emphasized the last word.

San’s posture stiffened, the pointedness of your words cutting through any pretense of oblivion. He dropped his gaze to his wine glass, swirling the liquid as though it might offer an escape from your scrutiny. Beside him, Viscount Choi let out a nervous chuckle, his jovial demeanor faltering as he glanced between you, San, and your mother.

“Ah, yes, a good hunting dog is worth its weight in gold,” he offered, attempting to steer the conversation into safer territory. “Your father was always fond of terriers.”

Your mother’s sharp intake of breath signaled her growing exasperation, but you ignored it, standing gracefully and excusing yourself with a polite nod. It wasn’t just about the dog, of course.

Bringing Norman inside was your way of asserting a small act of rebellion, a reminder that you weren’t some pawn in your mother’s endless games of social maneuvering. Let her fume.

You were your father’s child, and you’d honor his memory in your own way, even if it meant bringing your rowdy wire fox terrier to disrupt the order of the manor.

San prided himself on many things: his charm and his uncanny ability to talk his way out of, or into, anything he pleased. Navigation, however, was not one of them.

It was meant to be a simple task: find his father, Yeosang, and Yunho to discuss hunting plans over a game of billiards. Yet here he was, standing in an unfamiliar garden, surrounded by an expanse of hedges and flowerbeds that seemed to mock him with every meticulously arranged bloom.

He sighed, placing his hands on his hips, and turned in a slow circle, trying to piece together how he’d managed to stray so far.

"This way?" he muttered under his breath, taking a tentative step toward a stone path before freezing. "No, absolutely not. I recognize that planter, I definitely passed it at least twice now."

San exhaled sharply, brushing a hand through his hair. The maze of hedges had successfully bested him, and he was now grappling with the humiliation of calling for help or wandering aimlessly until staff stumbled upon him.

Just as he was weighing the cost of his pride, a sharp bark rang out across the garden. He froze, his body going rigid.

Norman.

The terrier with boundless energy and an uncanny knack for finding mischief. He was just one of the dozens of hunting dogs your family kept for the sport, but he was unquestionably your favorite. While he wasn’t the fastest or the strongest, he was clever, spirited, and utterly devoted to you.

He rounded the hedge like a bullet, a streak of white and brown hurling straight toward San. His pulse quickened, and his mind raced. Had you trained the dog to attack him? He wouldn’t blame you if you did. He took an instinctive step back, hands darting to his side as if to ward off an incoming assault.

You crouched low by the hedges, furrowing your brow as you watched the scene unfold. Surely, the feisty terrier would bark San off the estate and send him running.

But no.

Norman skidded to a halt in front of him, tail wagging furiously and eyes alight with mischief. The dog let out an eager yip, crouching down with his front paws stretched forward in a playful bow.

You groaned inwardly as San’s lips curved into a soft smile, and he knelt to ruffle the dog’s fur.

“You must be Norman,” he murmured, his tone warm and easy.

Norman, utterly delighted, barked again and darted in circles around him, pausing only to nudge San’s hand with his nose when the petting stopped.

“Traitor,” you muttered under your breath, sinking deeper behind the hedges. With a resigned sigh, you stood and dusted off your dress, forcing yourself to sound as casual as possible.

“Norman!” You called out, as if you hadn’t just been crouched behind the bushes plotting San’s demise.

Norman, ever the opportunist, interpreted your call as the start of a game of chase. His ears perked, and with an enthusiastic bark, he darted out of your line of sight, his legs carrying him toward the fountain at full speed.

“Wait, no, no, no—Norman!” you shrieked, launching into a sprint after him. Your voice only spurred him on, his wagging tail disappearing behind a hedge before you caught sight of him again.

The terrier took a running leap and soared into the fountain, splashing around in its shallow pool. You stood frozen for a moment, watching the dog paddle gleefully in the water.

“Oh, fuck me,” you grumbled, running a hand down your face as Norman paused mid-paddle to taunt you. He splashed again, as if daring you to join him.

With a resigned huff, you approached the fountain, crouching slightly as you leaned over the edge. Carefully, you extended an arm toward the mischievous terrier.

“Kang Norman, come here,” you gritted.

Norman responded with a bark, kicking his little legs to paddle just beyond your reach. You let out a frustrated sigh, adjusting your position as you gathered the skirt of your dress to kneel against the stone ledge. The water brushed against your fingertips as you leaned in farther, your balance growing increasingly precarious.

“Y/N!”

Startled, you turned to face San, wide-eyed, just as your foot slipped on the damp stone edge. He lunged forward, his hand gripping your arm in an attempt to steady you, but your momentum carried you forward.

His grip faltered, and you slipped from his grasp, tumbling into the cold water with a loud, humiliating splash. As you began to fall, he leaped into the fountain after you, arms outstretched in a desperate attempt to catch you before you were fully submerged. Water sloshed over the edges as you flailed for a moment, finally sitting up in the fountain, thoroughly drenched and utterly defeated.

To add insult to injury, Norman waded over to you, barking cheerfully and wagging his soaked tail as though congratulating you for finally joining him.

“Are you alright?” San’s voice was breathless with concern as he knelt in the water, his arms still loosely around you from his attempt to break your fall.

You blinked up at him, stunned. His shirt clung to him, dripping from his hasty attempt to save you. For a heartbeat, you forgot about your own disheveled state, captivated by how breathtakingly handsome he looked just then—his guard down, his focus entirely on you.

How dare he look at you like that? Like you mattered. Like he hadn’t shattered you and left you to piece yourself back together alone.

Then it hit you. You were in his arms.

With a startled flail, you shoved at his chest, splashing water everywhere as you squirmed to get free.

“What are you doing?” you demanded sharply.

“You fell headfirst into the fountain!” San replied, his words spilling out too quickly, flustered and breathless. His brow furrowed, cheeks flushed.

“I noticed!” you snapped, scrambling to stand upright.

“I thought you might have hurt yourself.”

The audacity! Did he think he could fool you again? That a moment of concern could undo everything? You knew better. You knew this was the same man who had used you to repair his broken ego, the same man who had tossed you aside the moment you weren’t convenient for him anymore.

But there was a softness to him that made your resolve waver. It was maddening how in this moment, he left you momentarily spellbound despite every fault you’d sworn to hold against him.

“I’m fine,” you huffed, turning away with as much dignity as you could muster in your sodden state.

San cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly as he looked around, clearly unsure of what to do with himself now that he was standing knee-deep in the fountain with you. There was a beat of silence between you as you sat there, dripping wet and too close for comfort. You moved away slightly, crossing your arms against the water seeping into your clothes.

“I should return to the manor,” you said, clearing your throat in an attempt to sound composed, though the reality was anything but.

You scooped Norman into your arms, the terrier dripping and delightfully oblivious to the chaos he had caused. His tail wagged enthusiastically, sending water droplets flying in every direction.

“Before a scandal breaks,” you added.

“R-Right,” San stammered, nodding quickly.

Water dripped from the hem of your soaked clothes, forming a trail on the garden path, and your sodden shoes let out a loud, humiliating squeak with every step you took.

“My lady!” Anna’s voice rose in a shriek, her hands flying to her mouth. She hurried forward, her eyes darting between your drenched form and the steadily growing puddle beneath your feet.

“Oh, heavens!” she gasped, wringing her hands. “What happened?

Several maids rushed forward, their concerned murmurs filling the air as they scrambled to retrieve towels.

“Someone fetch a blanket!”

“Quickly before she catches a cold!”

“This,” you replied flatly, hoisting Norman slightly higher in your arms. The fox terrier, blissfully unaware of the commotion he had caused, panted happily with his tongue lolling to the side.

The flurry of activity came to an abrupt halt as San stepped through the doorway behind you, his boots squelching comically against the floor. His shirt clung to him, outlining his chest in a way that wasn’t exactly helping his drenched appearance.

The maids froze, their arms full of towels, as they stared wide eyed and speechless.

The scene was entirely innocent—at least, it should have been. Yet, in that moment, with the dripping mess and the lingering tension, it felt anything but. Anna’s breath hitched audibly, and she glanced between you and San, her lips parting as if to speak but unable to form the words.

“He was only assisting in catching Norman. That’s all.”

You cleared your throat, breaking the awkward stillness. The others quickly snapped out of their daze, resuming their efforts to gather towels and muttering apologies as they darted around you.

San’s head shot up, his eyes widening in disbelief. Did you just…defend him? His heart raced but you remained cool and detached as you avoided his gaze. Not that it mattered.

That night, San tossed and turned in bed, unable to shake the day’s events. From the way you fled the estate that morning to your fiery encounter in the fountain, the encounters replayed on an endless loop in his mind.

In your anger, you looked…beautiful. More than beautiful. He groaned, dragging a pillow over his face, as if smothering himself could calm the relentless pounding of his heart. A soft, incredulous laugh escaped him, tinged with disbelief.

“Idiot,” he muttered, staring up at the ceiling. “She hates you.”

Still, his lips curled into a wide, giddy smile as he rolled onto his side, clutching the pillow beneath him. You’d been near him, spoken to him, glared at him, shoved him, and somehow, that was enough to make him feel like the luckiest man alive.

⊹

The Jeong Estate was as magnificent as ever, its manicured lawns rolling in lush waves of green, punctuated by bursts of color from sprawling gardens that seemed to stretch endlessly around the grounds. But today, the beauty was secondary; your focus laid elsewhere as you prepared yourself for the day’s hunt.

You cocked the shotgun with a sharp, mechanical click, testing its weight. You turned, holding the weapon at the ready as your eyes landed squarely on San. For a moment, the world seemed to still. San’s eyes locked on to yours and his mouth went suddenly dry. His eyes flicked nervously between the barrel and your face, unsure whether to laugh it off or raise his hands in surrender, unsure if even the slightest movement would prompt you to pull the trigger.

“Y/N, put that thing down!” your mother chided, her voice pitched high with mortification. She skittered into view, her skirts swishing as she cast a tight, strained smile toward a group of ladies passing by.

You lowered the shotgun a fraction, the barrel dipping just enough to avoid sending San into cardiac arrest. Still, your gaze remained fixed on him, your narrowed eyes making it clear he wasn’t off the hook yet. With a huff, you turned on your heel, striding toward the stables, the shotgun still in hand. Your boots crunched against the gravel, each step a sharp punctuation to your frustration.

"Pointing a gun at other guests is highly inappropriate, Ms. Kang.”

You turned to see Yunho striding toward you, his eyes sparkling with amusement, as if he had just caught you in the middle of some mischief he couldn’t wait to comment on.

"He’s lucky I didn’t pull the trigger.”

Yunho’s brow quirked and his grin widened. “You’ve certainly mastered the art of making a memorable impression within the ton. Though I have to wonder, were you aiming for him or his pride?”

You shot him a sideways glance, feigning exasperation. Yunho had always been this way—playful, quick-witted, and never one to miss an opportunity to tease you. Yet he was observant, capable of reading between the lines. It was part of the reason you found yourself oddly comfortable around him.

“I’m expediting his departure from the estate,” you replied dryly.

Yunho laughed, a rich and infectious sound that drew the attention of a few nearby guests.

"Don’t you think you might be pushing him a little too hard? Poor Mr. Choi looked like he was about to faint."

You scoffed, though your lips twitched in a small smile, betraying the hint of amusement in your eyes.

"He’s not that delicate, and you know it."

San stood a few paces away, watching the casual banter between you and Yunho, his jaw tightening involuntarily. He told himself it shouldn’t matter. Yunho was a close friend of your brother, someone you’d grown up with. Of course, you’d be close. It was all perfectly innocent. Rational, even but still—why did it bother him so much?

"I don’t blame her for fancying him," Wooyoung interrupted with a dreamy sigh. San shot him a pointed glance, his irritation clear, but Wooyoung just grinned, completely unapologetic.

“What? If I were her, I’d rather be a Duchess.”

It’s not like that between them, San told himself firmly, trying to quell the unease rising in his gut. He wasn’t one to let Wooyoung’s jabs get to him, but somehow, this one lingered, leaving him uneasy and more unsettled than he cared to admit.

As you approached the stable yard, the familiar hum of the estate, murmurs, laughter, the soft clink of silver, faded into the distance. You were greeted by Darcy’s familiar silhouette, his ears flicking forward in recognition, as you reached out to scratch the spot just behind his ear. The stallion leaned into your touch, his head bowing in a gesture that felt almost like a hug.

You slipped him a treat, his muzzle brushed your palm with a gentleness that made you smile.

“…A right mess that fire was, but he did what he was paid for.”

You froze in place. Your heart skipped a beat, as the clop of heavy boots and a murmur of voices approached. You edged closer to the shadows of the stable wall, ducking into Darcy’s stable, but before you could catch a breath, a soft snort sounded right by your ear, followed by a damp, insistent nudge against your shoulder.

You tried to brush his nose away with a quick wave, but the horse was undeterred. His large, expressive eyes blinked innocently down at you as he pushed his head into your space once more, this time almost knocking you off balance.

“Thought it’d be small,” one of the voices continued, closer now, “but didn’t expect half the place to blow up like that!”

“Keep it down, would ya? You want the whole bloody place to hear?” a second voice said.

They were talking about the fire. At the Choi’s estate. The stablehands didn’t sound remorseful, only wary, as though they knew they tread dangerous waters.

“Aye, well,” the first man muttered, his voice lowering, “it’s not like he had much choice, did he? Poor sod got backed into a corner. When they’re waving that kind of coin, who’s gonna say no?”

A chill crawled up your spine. Paid for? The fire wasn’t an accident. Someone had set it deliberately—and whoever they were, they’d been bought off.

“Still,” the second voice added nervously, “don’t know if I’d call it clean work. You reckon they’ll figure it out?”

“No one’s gonna find out. Just keep your mouth shut, and it’ll be fine. Heard there’s another job coming for the Parks.”

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. Another job. The Parks.

You stayed perfectly still as the voices faded, their owners disappearing around the corner. Once you were sure they were out of sight, you exhaled shakily, leaning against the stable wall for support. Your mind raced, trying to process what you had just overheard.

Paid off. Deliberate. Not clean work. The pieces clicked together, forming a picture more sinister than you’d imagine. The fire at the Choi estate hadn’t been an unfortunate accident—it had been orchestrated.

But why?

Whoever had set it in motion wasn’t some petty criminal. This was calculated, ruthless. This was someone willing to destroy lives to achieve their goals. And if the Chois had been a target, then the Parks were next.

A sick feeling churned in your stomach. What guarantee was there that your family’s home wouldn’t follow? What guarantee was there that anyone in the ton was safe?

The idea was unthinkable, but so was everything you’d just overheard. If there was even the slightest chance that your family could be in danger, you couldn’t let it go unanswered.

One | Three

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#ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #choi san #cromernet #ateez san #historical au #choi san x reader #choi san x you #ateez fic #regency era #regency au #san angst

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norikuna · 3 months ago

Text

DITTO — Gojo Satoru a rewrite of this post.

prologue. → brave, lucky, courageous. these are the words that people bestow upon you when the dust has cleared, and the king of curses is no more. you disagree, for if you were lucky, gojo satoru would still be standing at your side. instead you've been left to stare at the ocean shoreline on your own, without your best friend (the love of your life) by your side.

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. unfulfilled/unresolved love. angst, hurt, comfort, fluff. your usual shenanigans. sfw! implied, minor satosugu (mb because geto is my beautiful sad princess and i love him so he has to be a part of everything). pining, idiots in love. grief, and what you do after you've lost what you treasure the most etc u get it. reader is from an unnamed clan, has a younger brother. reader also wears skirts, dresses sometimes, character death + injury

word count. 11k! 😭 song inspiration. ditto — newjeans / 뉴진스 (2022) a/n. i wrote rough headcanons and posted them yesterday but i woke up thinking dang i should actually write something better about that lmao. update: i thought i'd finish this in a few hours, why did this take me like 2 days? update #2: dawg this is long as fuck...this kinda depressed me to write CROSSPOSTED ON AO3 <3 💙

mp3. do you think about me now, yeah. all the time...

✉️ — 1995. 💬 — gojo.

these meeting rooms were hushed, grand, and the kind of place that simply swallowed up any sound and echo; where the wood-panelled walls were lined with the tapestries and polished symbols of his clan.

and in the hush, gojo had sat cross-legged on the tatami mat, trying to listen to the conversation of the adults, with their low and steady voices that droned on. this was so boring. they were always speaking of things that he just couldn't understand, but his parents said these meetings were important, and so he was dragged along - much to his eternal chagrin. still, he shifted in place, glancing around at the detailed screens painting around the corners of the room, in varying shades of blue.

across the room, there was another kid. one who sat beside her father, fidgeting just as he was. and gojo could tell by the way that you kept glancing towards the door that you, too, longed to escape. your gaze caught his, and there was that flicker of mutual boredom that sparked between you two. you had scrunched up her nose, as if to say 'this is so boring, isn't it?'

gojo grinned, stifling a giggle. he had leaned back, just a little, surveying the adults who paid no heed to him, before letting himself inch across the rough texture of the mat towards the door.

"do you want to see the garden?" he mouthed silently, his words exaggerated and slow, so you would understand.

your eyes had lit up, and you nodded, just as your father (well, he assumed it was her father) leaned down to whisper something in your ear, his voice a low rumble that was far too quiet for gojo to catch. you were nodding obediently, but your eyes were now fixed with the glimmer of excitement, and he quickly held the door open for you as you scrambled out the door, following him quietly as they creaked down the long hallway.

and soon, they reached the back of the estate, where the garden stretched out like a hidden oasis, filled with the flowering bushes, the winding stone paths, and the pond that glistened in the morning light. suddenly, he stopped by the edge of the pond, brushing pale hair out of his stinging eyes, "i'm satoru, by the way."

you had sat down quickly, as though the long walk had winded her (gojo had barely needed to stop to catch is breath), and your robes dipped into the pond, letting the water seep up slowly, "i've heard of you. my parents say you're an only child."

gojo shrugged, trying to think of something important he could tell you, "it's not so bad. one day, i'm going to be the head of my clan," puffing up his chest a little.

you had nodded, "i would like to be too, but my younger brother would get it. because...you know."

gojo didn't quite know but he nodded like he understood, and he tried to think of something smarter to say, "well the job isn't that fun anyway. it's just sitting around reading papers, and telling people what to do."

you had pouted, frowning, "i want to tell people what to do all day. and i would get the nicest robes too as clan head."

and you had looked so unhappy at the prospect that you were being robbed of a stellar wardrobe that gojo made up his mind, right then and there, "tell you what, when i become my clan head, i'll make sure you get the nicest robes, how's that?"

your face had lit up, holding your little pinky up to his, "promise?"

gojo linked his finger with hers, sealing this silly vow and laughing, "why not?"

✉️ — 1996. 💬 — you.

when you're seven years old, you’ve resigned yourself to trailing behind gojo, watching as your friend takes on the world with the same reckless, eager energy that he seems to pour into everything that he does.

his voice has picked up a confidence that you haven't felt yet, and there's a permanent, flashy grin on his face that says he doesn't care what anyone thinks about him, not his parents, nor his clan.

and today, gojo's decided that the old shrine on the edge of your family estate needs exploring. you're a little less certain, especially since your father had told you that this shrine was haunted, but you find yourself following the boy anyway, and there's that silent agreement in place: he leads, you follow. you're alright with that, that's just the way it's always been.

he's dressed, as usual, in a loose grey hoodie that's two sizes too big for him, and his jeans have a hole in the knee; some small rebellion against his clan's strict sense of tradition. even his hair is awfully emssy, tousled and getting a little too long, and you know he hates it when his mother tries to comb it down, and you easily suspect that gojo just ruffles it on purpose to get a reaction out of those around him. he probably does everything on purpose for a round of reactions, honestly.

you, on the other hand, have your nicest lilac skirt on, and there's a small bow in your hair that the maidservants had pinned themselves (your mother had been too deep in her cups all morning). but you had fluttered around, feeling quite pretty in your skirt; like you were a fairy that would sprout wings and live in the clouds.

gojo glances back at you, and rolls his eyes, "you know, you look like you're going to one of the clan meetings," he mutters, but there's a playful glint in his eye. he's pulled a twig from the ground, and he's waving it around like a sword, slicing through imaginary enemies as he marches forward like an idiot.

you just shrug, quietly watching him cut through the tall grass ahead, "i like looking nice," you mumble, a little embarrassed. you can feel the careful way the sweet, old servant (she turned seventy last week!) had arranged your hair, and the press of the bow keeping it every lock in place.

"well, if you ever decide to look like you're not on your way to sit for a court painting, let me know," gojo says, smirking (he thinks he's funny) as he waves his 'sword' around, battling on the false frontlines.

but despite yourself, you laugh, and quicken your pace to keep up with him, and so, gojo slows just a bit, enough that you're walking side by side now, and his arm brushes against yours.

"did you know that they say that this shrine is spooked?" he asks, his voice falling to a dramatic whisper.

"i live here, satoru. obviously, duh," and the shrine comes into view, and it's small, weathered with age, but to you, it looks grand and mysterious, even magical, "do you believe it's haunted?"

gojo shrugs, unfazed, "nah, probably just an old rock. but it would be cool if it was. maybe, we'll see a ghost."

now you've taken a hesitant step back, but gojo just grins, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward, and his hand is warm and steady in yours.

"c'mon, don't be a chicken," he teases, laughing as he drags you closer, and you plant your feet firmly in the ground, watching as clouds begin to roll over the sky, ominous and gloomy.

oh, this place is definitely haunted. your father was right, it's so over for you now. a massive, ugly curse is going to pop out and eat you alive, and steal your pretty hair bow. you mutter a small prayer under your breath. gojo satoru, you will pay for this.

✉️ — 2000. 💬 — you.

you'd always heard whispers about yourself from the other kids, how you were too quiet, or you tried far too hard to be perfect — unwilling to roughhouse the way they did. perhaps they were right, and it was true that you preferred to sit alone. you think it was the feeling of order you enjoyed, of a world you could control, even if it was just through lines on a piece of paper.

but today, their voices were louder than usual. a small group had gathered near the cherry blossom tree where you'd settle yourself, and they circled around like hungry wolves sniffing out something they could tear apart.

one girl wrinkled her nose and called you prissy (well, okay) and another boy had snickered and muttered that you were so boring, and it was a wonder that you even had a friend like gojo.

ouch.

their words felt like small, precise cuts, sharper than expected. you had heard these things before. after all, everyone had reached the age where they were aware of their abilities, their techniques as jujutsu sorcerers.

you didn't mind your own technique, making sure to channel time and energy to learn so you could grow up and be as good as your father one day (a well established sorcerer in his own right, if a bit out of shape).

but you didn't have to be very smart to know that gojo's abilities stood out entirely in a different way, and you heard your parents whisper in hushed tones at how lucky his clan was to have a child like that. with the right training and moulding, he could be the most powerful man to walk the earth.

how silly. gojo was all laughs, and smiles, and stupid jokes and bright, clever eyes. you thought it was dumb how they all spoke about an eleven year old boy like he was a weapon, kept in its sheath until it was ready to be drawn.

but of course, all the kids wanted to be friends with him instead. and today, these barbs hurt more — and you kept your eyes down, clutching your books a bit tighter, willing for these supposed 'friends' of yours to go away.

but before you could say anything, you heard his stomps.

"hey!"

gojo's voice was unmistakable, sharp and sudden as he clamoured over, all brashness and bravado. he had gotten a bad haircut recently (entirely his own fault for thinking he could put scissors to his own hair, but you had laughed so hard as he swore curses) so white tufts stuck out all over his head, making him look like he got stuck in a wall socket, even crazier than usual.

but gojo didn't look at you, just planted himself between you and the group, bruised fists clenched (they trained him too hard), and shoulders set, "what's your problem?"

the other kids stammered, clearly surprised, but that didn't stop him, he who looked like a small, lanky and angry polar bear.

"you think you're so funny? talking like that? say it again, and i'll knock your teeth out."

"ah, satoru -" you ran your tongue behind your teeth, the last thing everyone needed was another fight of bruised pride, and yanked hair, rolling around in the dust.

but one of the boys had muttered something under his breath, taking a half-step back. the others followed, shuffling, rolling their eyes and looking anywhere but at you and gojo.

and your best friend didn't move until they had scattered completely, leaving behind only the faint echos of their derision as they fled. and then he turned to you, his scowl fading into something kinder (good, you didn't like seeing him so upset) as he dropped onto the bench, beside you, pulling his knee up onto the bench so he could rest his chin against it casually.

"they're just idiots," he said, rolling his eyes, and his voice was softer, playful again, "don't listen to them."

you gave him a small smile, nodding, as the knot in chest loosened a little, "i wasn't really listening to them," you murmured, even though you probably knew that was a bold-faced lie.

gojo released a loud laugh, much too loud and forced, as he nudged you with his elbow, and he must have known it too, but he was smiling, "good, that's the spirit."

You managed a small smile, nodding, the knot in your chest loosening a little.

the world was quiet again as you both sat in silence, the soft breeze ruffling the grass and the cherry blossoms overhead. and then, with a shyer glance, you managed to look over at your friend, watching as messy tufts of his snowy hair moved ever so slightly in the breeze.

"thanks, 'toru," you said, quietly, but he just shrugged it off, brushing it away as though it was nothing.

"hey, what am i here for?"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — you.

gojo was sprawled across your wide bed, looking at you as if you were the most ridiculous person in the entire world. his own suitcase sat beside him, already paced with the very few things he needed, and now he watched you with that eager, restless gleam in his blue eyes, like he could barely sit still.

"you're so overthinking this," he said, bright voice full of impatience, "just throw some stuff in a bag, and we're good to go. it's just tokyo, not the end of the world."

you scowled at the boy, holding up two sweaters; one sensible in a shade of pale blue, and the other thick, deep red and woollen, "but what if it gets cold? or rains?"

gojo rolled his eyes, throwing his head back dramatically onto your pillow, hands behind his head as he sprawled around like a snooty prince with all the time in the world.

"it's summer, it's tokyo, and it's not like we're moving to america," he smiled, "besides, if you pack any slower, we'll miss our first year."

you tried to brush it off, and something about his easy confidence made you feel a sharp twinge of nerve. this was really happening, you were truly leaving the bounds of your family estates, stepping out into the world, to attend jujutsu tech, a school in tokyo that you had heard so much about. well, there was another school here, in kyoto, but god, it would just be nice to get out of these ancient walls.

and yet -

gojo simply looked like he couldn't wait to shake the dust of his home off his sneakers, you felt something pull at you, like a sudden-appearing string that tied you to your home city, and it wouldn't let you go.

your best friend had caught the look on your face, and softened — just a bit, as he twiddled with a brand new pair of sunglasses, and he sat up closer, watching you carefully, "you're really going to miss it here, aren't you?"

and you shrugged, fidgeting with the sleeves of the red sweater, "i don't know. maybe, i suppose. don't you feel that way at all, satoru?"

he shook his head, resolute, "not even a little," but he saw your uncertainty, "listen, you'll be fine. you'll love tokyo. and hey," he nudged you gently with his knee, "i'll be right there with you anyway."

you appreciated that his confidence felt like a promise, something that you could at least hold onto, even in the big capital, and with a big, exaggerated sigh you tossed both sweaters into the suitcase.

"finally!"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — gojo.

the both of you had arrived, bright-eyed and tired, as he clambered off the tall bus that had parked on the outskirts of tokyo, where jujutsu high was located.

gojo stood beside you, hands stuffed in his denim pockets, plastering a disinterested expression on his face. but he couldn't help how his eyes flittered to the sid,e underneath the dark shades of his glasses, watching you fawn over another new student, another boy who had arrived from some small town, who-knows-where, from a non-sorcerer family.

geto suguru.

well it was no lie that gojo liked him a lot too. there was no denying that he seemed polite, clever, maybe a bit shy. and effortlessly cool.

gojo had grown up in the stifling, grand estates of the big clans, constantly fussed over, and robed in fine silks printed with his clan motifs. all of those stuffy rules would sit, push around and make space in one's head, like a constant mantra from the elders.

he didn't need to look at you too closely to see what was going on, and he could tell right away, just from how you reacted. your smile stretched wider, and your eyes lit up like you were meeting someone who you really wanted to talk to.

geto who hadn't even changed into his uniform yet, with his stray strands of dark hair falling out of the knot on the back of his head, looking politely aloof, but cheerful, in worn black jeans and converse, and some baggy band t-shirt that would get gojo scolded by his mother for even wearing that inside the estate.

gojo noticed everything, especially the way your fingers slipped up to tuck your hair behind your ear when geto grinned at you (all because you’d recognised the band on his t-shirt, so what?) he saw how your eyes brightened, like geto suguru had unlocked some hidden code only you could decipher.

it annoyed him to realise that geto's calm, quiet charm was exactly the kind of thing you’d be drawn to. that’s what you liked, wasn’t it? the understated, thoughtful types who let the world come to them. not the loudmouth who cracked jokes at every opportunity, hoping to pull a laugh from his best friend.

well, fuck, he had to be a part of this too now.

✉️ — 2005. 💬 — both.

gojo's new obsession had a sleek, silver body and an olympus logo stamped on it in black, a camera that he'd been itching to buy; refusing to settle for anything less than the latest model. suddenly, he was determined to capture tokyo through his own eyes, and you and your friends had quickly become his reluctant muses on an impromptu day trip to the ameya-yokocho market.

"stop! stay right there, don't move! fuck, no! a little to the left!"

he waved his hands around, motioning for everyone to gather just as he wanted. you all exchanged amused glances, with shoko huffing around dramatically, as gojo crouched down on his long legs, then stood back up, and then crouched down again, as one of jujutsu high's most powerful sorcerers struggled to bring a camera into focus.

eventually, geto had laughed — raven hair falling over his beautiful face, and had gotten up to help gojo, fiddling with the lens as the rest of you milled around.

and then, suddenly gojo turned the camera directly on you. he pointed his finger your way, wide grin half-hidden but unmistakably earnest, 'c'mon, turn that frown upside down!'

he needn't have said a word, just seeing your best friend there, with his hair tousled and carefree grin, with the camera strap hanging off his neck, was enough to make you laugh, the kind that felt as bright as it sounded.

and so, you found yourself standing in the middle of the bustling market street, surrounded by friends and fellow students, and the lively hum of the weekend crowds, as you looked directly into the lens, with your smile softening under his gaze, as though the rest of the world had blurred into the background.

afterwards, gojo had taken a good look at the photo, and he didn't say much, but the look on his face lingered, almost like he was seeing something that he wasn't sure he was allowed to hold onto. you had shyly asked him later, coming up beside his shoulder, whether he had printed a spare copy of the photo, but he shook his head with the lie rolling off his tongue.

love was a selfish endeavour, to its core. he wasn’t about to tell you that he wanted to keep that photo for himself. and later, when no-one was looking, he slipped the small print into his wallet, right between his train pass and some spare change.

✉️ — 2006. 💬 — you.

your best friend, your dear satoru, had always been resilient; the kind of guy who threw himself at life with reckless energy, shrugging off injuries like they were just a part of the ride. he'd laugh off a scraped knee or a bloodied lip, flashing that cocky grin and a shrug as if pain was something for other people.

life for you went on, with your own routines and small moments. you learnt long ago that you didn't quite possess the natural, raw sheer jujutsu power that gojo had (or geto for that matter) but you could certainly hold your own in a scuffle. regardless, you had chosen to turn to academics, flitting between classes and study sessions, arm in arm with sweet shoko.

there was joy in sneaking off campus with friends, or scrolling through lists of new albums to download onto your mp3 player (you had been partial to the south korean boyband, tvxq!).

and so, life seemed both incredibly mundane and slightly electric, with days marked by shy smiles and inside jokes, with walks home on the streets wet from the spring rain.

but it had been late summer when gojo had returned from that last mission, when the days were still long and hot and the afternoons were bathed in a thick, heavy amber. and he had come back...different.

he moved carefully, as though each step was suspicious and took more effort than he'd let on, and his usual bright glimmer was dimmed, his laughter quiet, and his smiles withheld like a rare currency. he'd sit through the long evenings with you, in silence more often than not, hands stuffed into his wide pockets as he stared at a place that you just couldn't reach.

when you'd catch him alone in the courtyard after class, he'd be training hard, working through his cursed techniques with a relentless focus, perfecting each hand gesture as if he could shake off whatever shadow lingered behind him. and sometimes, he'd stay for hours after school, practicing beneath the dying and dusty light of the last days of summer, as if he could not afford to stop, to rest.

“gojo?” you called, hesitating as he finished a strike to some poor unsuspecting pile of soda cans, leaving them obliterated in the heat. “what's going on with you?”

he paused mid-motion, glancing at you, his face carefully blank. and you hated that, you hated how the flicker of distress would pass from his face before being schooled into that carefully constructed mask of 'the strongest.'

i love you, idiot. i love you, i love you, tell me what's bothering you and i will help, you're my best friend.

but these words never saw the light of day, always curling up and choking up in your throat, and instead being twisted into feigned, casual interest. losing the cloak of deep devotion that you held for a friend of ten years.

"oh - hey! nothing," gojo replied, too quickly, with that half-cocked smile that painted over his pink lips, "nothing that deep."

lately, this repeated lie had been hanging in the air between you, clear as the last streaks of summer sunlight that would soon give way to fall.

you crossed your arms over your uniform, dark fabric crinkling, "you're not fooling anyone, you know. geto told me about the mission, he said that you —," you swallowed, with the words just as heavy as the steadfast beat of your heart that you kept under lock and key, "he said you shouldn't have come back. what does that even mean?"

gojo's face flickered again, just for a second, before he barked out that irritating, false chuckle, "guess it's a good thing you weren't sent on tengen's fuckin' mission then," before reaching out and snatching your strawberry milk carton from your hands with a grin.

after a few punctuated slurps and lip-smacking (just to watch your face redden in fury, gojo would admit) he spoke again, voice strained, "you'd probably be crying about it still."

"hey!" you protested, grabbing for the carton again, prying his slender fingers off your sweet treat, "i don't cry that easily."

"could've fooled me. you cried during that american movie about zoo animals."

"madagascar was a sad movie about displacement and the loss of home! i know animal rights activists hate to see your ass coming to the zoo."

gojo snickered, drawing out the words, "fuck that zebra," but now, he was looking off into the golden haze of a beautiful sunset, with that frayed grin, "seriously, though. it's fine, it's all in the past."

over time, gojo never spoke many a word about what happened to the star plasma vessel, but he just seemed to move forward, like he always had. his resolve somehow sharper, tighter, and his laughter more intense when it finally did return. there were moments when you'd catch him staring into the great expanse of nothing, haunted (but beautiful), though he'd just shrug and smile when you prodded him about.

✉️ — 2007. 💬 — gojo.

gojo thought he was astoundingly self-aware, in his own humble opinion. he never let anything get to him, that was the trick, you see. to take life as it came at you, to carry that fire and stubbornness and throw it back in the face of the trouble.

and so he wanted to be angry, to be furious. why had suguru done this? why?

he had known that geto, one of his dearest friends (one who always been so sure of himself) had fallen into disquiet lately, and even gojo had prodded him on whether he had lost weight through sleepless nights. but suguru would have just turned his head back to his book, lost in thought, with his dark hair loose around his face.

had he been blind? how had suguru's silence been covered by what gojo (privately) considered his own loud, defiant return? no, he knew of ghosts. he knew that some spirits and spectres could not be shaken, and sometimes when gojo himself closed his eyes, he could feel the sharp sting of an assassin's blade ramming through his throat, leaving him for dead.

but to murder over a hundred innocent people...

you had found him alone that evening, where he had sprawled over the stairs as the sunset blazed, painting them aglow in dusky hues. but gojo could barely notice any of this beauty, and so he just stared, lost in his thoughts that wouldn't settle.

(are you the strongest because you're satoru gojo? or are you satoru gojo because you're the strongest?)

he didn't hear you approach, until you placed a gentle hand on his shoulders, causing him to flinch, surprised out of his sorrowful reverie.

the warmth of your touch steadied him, and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, and he wondered how you could always seem to know exactly when he needed you most.

but the thought twisted, sharp and bitter, for what if you would follow suguru the same way? had you not often looked at geto with light in your eyes? and you had never looked at him like that.

what if, someday, you left him the same way? what if you turned around and saw someone else worth following? he couldn't help his fists from clenching, tension rippling down his shoulders and painfully gripping his head.

"suguru..." his voice came out quieter than he meant, with a crack that he couldn't quite hide, and he heard you sharply inhale, "i can't believe he's gone. i don't know if...if i'll ever see him again. why would he -?"

you still didn't say anything, just tightening your hand on his shoulder. and satoru hated it. hated that he wanted to lean into the weight of your touch, hated that this is what being the strongest now entailed. that now he was plagued by fear, of losing you, of watching you slip through his fingers into another's orbit.

i'm only seventeen. what happened to my youth?

the thoughts are acidic, cynical and they leave him angry (with the world, with the higher ups, with himself, with his parents) and he can't help himself from blurting out the next question.

"did you like him?"

gojo tries to keep his tone light and casual, but he loathes how he sounds pleading, heavier. he feels the embarrassment of vulnerability shroud him as you meet his eyes, and he hates how your eyes are teary too.

you shouldn't cry. ever.

"like? as in like?"

"as in love," gojo mutters, "shoko said you did."

you sniff, and now your head is leaning on his shoulder and he can inhale the scent of your shampoo (apples? caramel?) and despite the crick in his neck, he lowers his shoulder further down so you are more comfortable.

"shoko talks too much sometimes," you laugh weakly, "but probably. i think i did."

gojo tries to tamper down the acrid lurch in his stomach, but you continue, "i think i did love him. but so did shoko. so did nanami, and haibara back when, -" you sigh, "and so did you. we all loved him. he was our friend."

his fingers had been hovering close to your hand for a while, almost as if he couldn't help himself, the pull. finally, he slid his smallest finger to let it curl around yours, drawing out a memory from over a decade ago.

"tell you what, when i become my clan head, i'll make sure you get the nicest robes, how's that?" "promise?" "why not?"

how silly that the hardest things in life had once been a bored child, and his new friend who fretted about her future wardrobe.

and when you clasped in hand entirely in its return, gojo's breath caught, his throat tightening. the words that he wanted to say, to spill from his throat, hovered in his mind but there was no infinite word strong enough to bring them out.

he wasn't an idiot, he wasn't daft and unobservant, he knew exactly what he wanted to say to you, to tell you from his lips to yours. but the way his heart laid itself bare in that moment unsettled him deeply, not the yearning itself, but how fierce it was. it disgusted him, the rawness of his desire, exposed right there in the open, where anyone could see it, including you. especially you.

with a realisation that was long coming, beneath the golden wash of the setting sun, he sighed deeply. if he ever lost you, if you ever looked at him with the same betrayal that he'd seen in suguru's eyes, he didn't know if he could survive it. it would cut deeper than his infinity could bear.

he tried speaking again, "if you ever -" but he doesn't get the chance to speak before you're leaning further into him, a quiet sniffle punctuating the silence.

"i won't."

✉️ — the next decade... 💬 — you.

"sweetheart, honey, my precious pumpkin pie."

you shot gojo a death glare, his attempt at flamboyant charm bouncing right off you, "i hate you. never speak to me again."

and your gaze dropped to what was left of your beautiful hermès scarf, once a beautiful concoction of cream-white silk, now reduced to tatters that fluttered pitifully in your hands, stained with some suspicious green goop.

you had cherished this pricey product, but gojo, in his infinite wisdom had decided to pick it up as a perfect blindfold right before a gnarly mission. and so, it got tangled with a nasty curse, and met its tragic, shredded end.

gojo raised his brows, feigning the innocence of a cherub, blinking his long lashes, "i'm sorry, i'll get you a new one, baby."

he drew out the pet name with exaggerated gusto that made you snarl, "enough with the pet names. you are a grown ass man."

and you gave him a first shove in the ribs that made the strongest sorcerer in the world stagger dramatically, only to catch himself with that easy grin still plastered on his face.

but before you could storm off and mourn whatever was left of your one-million yen possession, gojo darted in front of you, blocking your path with his ridiculously long arms. "come on, let me make it up to you, what if i had died on that mission?" he pleaded, looking at you with mock sincerity.

"i wouldn't have even come to the funeral," you sniffed, sticking your nose in the air, ignoring the fake choking sounds that came from the man as he clutched his chest.

months had turned into years, where you and gojo had grown up and graduated jujutsu tech together, carrying triumphs (you won valedictorian, out of a grand total of eight students), losses (gojo was a notoriously bad driver and almost crashed the car that the two of you were in) and countless moments in between.

the two of you had returned to your alma mater as teachers, and mentors, guiding younger sorcerers who were much like you'd once been; eager, impatient, and a little rough around the edges.

gojo took to teaching like he did most things, with his own reckless charm and devil-may-care attitude. he'd joke about skipping staff meetings, but he'd be there anyway, leaning back in his chair with his legs sprawled underneath him, mouthing snarky comments that only you could hear.

you'd like to think you'd grown more confident, no longer the uncertain teenager who used to glance at herself twice in the mirror. time had given you the chance to learn your strengths, and exorcising curses had left you all the more enduring.

gojo had noticed, though he'd never say it outright. he'd make some teasing comment about the way you would boss around a room, and you'd roll your eyes as you nudged him telling him that you had learnt from the biggest ego in tokyo. but sometimes, he'd watch you a little longer than he should, with that flicker in his gaze that he thought you hadn't noticed.

some things hadn't changed at all, and he still came back to you after every mission, every right. you'd hear him shuffling in from down the hall, his paper bags of desserts swinging as he tried to balance it along with his jacket, and whatever ridiculous trinket he'd picked up for you that week (you kept every single one).

and there the two of you would be, sitting cross-legged on your apartment floor, sharing sweets straight out of the boxes. he'd pass you a slice of cheesecake that he insisted that you simply must try, nudging your hand until your fingers enveloped his.

wouldn't it be a lie to claim that you didn't bask in the warmth of your best friend's gaze, even as he feigned interest in some story that he had overhead from the students on his way over from the school, with his low laughter filling the quiet around you.

sometimes, in the silence that would fall after the conversation ebbed, he’d reach over and trace circles absentmindedly on the back of your hand with his thumb, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. neither of you would move or speak. gojo would be looking anywhere but at you, yet his hand wouldn’t let go, tethering you to him in a way that made the apartment feel smaller — almost as if you’d already crossed some line neither of you dared to talk about.

what a pain to be haunted by someone who was already living and breathing right in front of you. sometimes, it left you nauseous, ill, and even screaming into your pillow after he left, and dialing shoko's number so she could give you an earful.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

your car idled at the curb, the sounds of the city filtering in through the barely open window, with the faint chill of the october night brushing against your skin.

gojo looked up from his phone, tapping his fingers on the screen, and there was a sober look on his face that made your stomach twist. you watched as he ran his head through his white hair, and sighed, his eyes still on the screen.

"apparently i was summoned by name," he said quietly, "to shibuya. whatever curtain's been set up is only allowing sorcerers through."

you kept one hand on the wheel, "ijichi reached out to me too, but he wants me covering the perimeter on the other side, away from the metro. but who would summon you by name?"

"i know. do you think it's...?"

"the traitor everyone's guessing about? who else?"

gojo scoffed a little, "fuckin' surprise," he muttered, casting you a glance that spoke volumes of protectiveness, one that made you lurch ever so slightly. his eyes met yours, an unspoken worry passing between you. you bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from blurting out the words that lived in the forefront of your mind.

and so, gojo reached for the door handle, and you saw him hesitate as his fingers drummed against the door, before pulling his blindfold up, "well, stay safe, yeah?"

you swallowed, trying to find some false platitude to offer back, "hey, i will if you will."

he gave a short laugh that must have not fully reached his eyes, but it softened the rest of his beautiful face in that way that you loved, "y'know, we could have been going trick-or-treating. dressed like idiots, stuffing our face with candy."

"tweedledee and tweedledum?"

gojo snorted, "next year then."

you hummed, "i'll keep that idea then, tweedledumb."

the bow of his lips quirked, and he looked away again before pushing himself out of the car, stepping out onto the suddenly cold, quiet sidewalk (too quiet, where was everyone?)

he paused, turning back to you through the window, as he lifted his hand up in a small wave, and you could tell he wanted to say something else — but the moment passed, and he closed his mouth, smiling instead in that way of his that said everything without a single word. and he pushed his hands back into his pocket, strolling away as you sat there, suddenly ever so lonely in your silent car, as chills went down your spine.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

"gojo satoru has been sealed."

what the fuck?

the world has slowed down, every sound muffled as if you'd been submerged underwater. shibuya had left gojo sealed in the prison realm by...no. it couldn't be.

suguru geto was dead. dead, executed. had it not been almost a year? you had mourned, gojo had grieved. and yet, the impossible had clawed its way into reality, leaving you feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something dark and unknowable.

soon the shock twisted into dread, an icy grip that clenched tight around your chest, left the blood draining from your face. god, your hair must just turn as white as his from the stress alone. your best friend, the one who had been beside you in sickness and health.

it was cruel, you thought, to not even be allowed the time to fall apart, now now. there was little space for it in the chaos that had erupted the next day, when waves of curses crashed through the city like nothing you had ever seen. what fresh hell was this, you wondered as you nursed a nasty set of wounds, trailing after (tormented, sweet, far too young) itadori yuji, and his supposed older brother, some blood manipulation user that had done his fair share of damage throughout the night.

the culling games.

the brutality of it shocked you, and several times during the upcoming days, you had to blink back hot tears as sorcerers were summoned, drafted, and thrown into what was quickly a gladiator spectacle, some devilry concocted from geto's, no, kenjaku's mind. and the stakes were not just your own survival, but the students you had mentored — the young souls who had grown under your watch, and needed you now more than ever.

it quickly cost you an eye. a clash with a fierce, blood-thirsty wayward sorcerer had left you bloody and bruised with a clean gash that ran through your right eye, and you had screamed, taken a life even. only the baritone, dulcet tone of the yuji's half-curse brother (choso? a member of the kamo clan? since when did half-curses even exist?) had pulled you away from launching the contents of your stomach over the pavement, as you stared at the crimson dripping off your hands. were you supposed to be grateful that you had survived this, when so many others had not? yuji's tears had kept you awake in the night, his sobs when he thought that no-one could hear him.

gojo's absence had become a wound, raw, with a side of constant ache that you could feel with every waking heartbeat. and so you tried to fight hard with his voice echoing in your ears, remembering the half-smile he'd flash when you'd land a difficult hit, or the grateful look in his eyes knowing that his students were safe.

days blurred together, and nights bled into ceaseless combat, of the terror of being on the run, and still gojo was with you. the thought of finding him, the thought of him being unsealed from the prison realm almost had you blurting false, desparate promises to the sky that you would tell him exactly what you felt for him, bare your heart out in its entirety for him to hold in his hands.

like it had always been.

✉️ — november, 2018 💬 — you.

it was surreal seeing him again, unsealed and standing there against the burnt umber of the sky, rough around the edges but undeniably gojo. nineteen days of living with the ache of his absence, of waking every morning with a hollow flower blooming in your chest, he was here — alive, breathing, real.

but god, it had been so beautiful to meet his blue gaze once more, and that fleeting smile cross his face before he rushed to pull you into his arms, closing the distance and pulling you into his arms with a new strength that almost lifted you off your feet. and if you closed your eye, you could pretend that nothing had happened, nothing at all. that it was just you pressed against the warm, beating heart in gojo's chest, unrestrained and fierce as thick arms pulled you close, filling your senses with smoke, and earth, and long-spilt blood.

"don't you look eye catching?"

you huffed and leaned away from him, slamming your fist on hard muscle in exasperation, but if you hadn't turned your gaze away, you would have seen gojo's eyes twitch as he took in your battle-worn appearance, the scar that ran underneath bandages where an eye would have once been. if you had paid more attention, you would have heard his intake of breath as he ran his tongue behind his teeth, with a vow, a promise.

"guess who's going to kick sukuna's ass so far back to the heian era," gojo murmured, and you let out a shaky laugh that echoes all the way down to the marrows of your bones.

"yeah, i thought you were just all talk."

"i'm still alive, aren't i?" he shot back, cocky and boyish once more, and your eyes traced over him, drinking in every small change, the sharper clench in his jaw, the tautness in his frame, the way his shoulders seemed broader, like he had been carved up in the prison realm anew. and it leaves you melancholic.

in another universe, the two of you were still young, hand in hand underneath the blue sky as the cool breeze ran through your hair. but battles had turned to war, and the night had no time for what ifs.

"hey, don't go worrying about me," gojo murmured, almost as though he had caught the shadow in your heart, and he plastered a grin on his face, stretching his toned arms in some show of nonchalance, but his gaze lingered on the ruins too long, on the mottled group of assembled sorcerers who seemed to brim with new-found confidence at his return.

and when he finally looked back at you with a new dullness in your eyes, a heaviness you hadn't seen in a long time. it left a dead weight in your chest, but you forced yourself to return his own bland smile, playing along with the front he was trying to maintain, "well, i guess i'll have to keep you out of trouble from now on."

✉️ — november-december, 2018 💬 — you.

the month began to stretch and pass in a blur on the endless horizon, complete with the aching and unbearable waiting where you knew something was going to happen, and yet you did not know when and where. shoko had forgone her own exhausation to see to the rest of the wounds, the ones that had festered under bandages and grimes, leaving faint trails over your skin but she had shaken her head sadly when it came to the socket on your face, even she could not restore an eye.

gojo had swapped his suits and jackets for loose martial pants, and a tight black top that had clung to the muscular frame that he'd honed over the years, laughing off your concerns like they were nothing more than passing clouds.

"don't fret," he'd say, "how bad could this be? you know i told yuji once that even if sukuna was at his full power, i'd still wipe the floor with him. you believe me right?"

you weren't sure if his question was cocky, or a plea, and the fatigue had caused you to snap, "and now, yuji flinches when he hears loud sounds, and he's just another kid who can't fuckin' stop wringing his hands in blood! look what you've done to him!"

gojo's eyes had twitched afterwards, the corner of his mouth pulling down, but he hadn't gotten angry. and you hated it. you hated it all.

but you had wanted to believe in him, in his optimism. you wanted to let his smooth words settle into your bones like the warm comfort they should have been. but how could you feel at ease when everyone was now playing a role? each sorcerer in this building was feigning whatever mask or persona that they had painted and drawn across their face, just as you had. just as gojo did.

but nothing was the same anymore.

and neither were you.

the loss of your eye, the streaks of scars on your skin haunted you. it felt cowardly to say, but this was not the life you should have lived. you simply just didn't see yourself as strong enough, and your eyes watered thinking about the days when you dallied under a clear sky, skirts swaying along the grass as you trailed after your best friend, catching fireflies, exploring shrines, falling to the earth in child-like innocence.

the hollow space on your face, the empty socket served as a reminder of what you had survived, of the world that had fallen into pieces. was there anyone here who would recognise themselves in the mirror anymore?

some nights, the world felt impossibly still, and you would sit at the window and press your hands to the cold of the glass as you watched a scarred city sprawl ahead of you.

you didn't turn at the sound of footsteps at first, and you sat there, with your fingers still dancing on the edge of the window. you closed your eyes as you felt him approach, close, but not enough — you wished he would sit by you, press his soft head to your own, close enough for you to hold him in your hands, curl into his skin.

"satoru, can you make another promise?"

gojo's steps had paused, just a breath but it was enough to know that you had his attention. but when he spoke, "please tell me we're not doing theatrics right now," his voice was laced with that same dismissive edge that he always used when he was trying to push the truth far away.

"can't you shut up, just once? promise me you won't let sukuna kill you, i can't even imagine -" and how irritating, and how melancholic (fuck, this was like a bad soap opera) that your throat was already tightening, your voice wavering with tears that you had been holding back for weeks.

for a moment, gojo didn't respond, and he just stood there and you needn't have turned around to know that there was no trace of laughter nor joy on his face. no easy smirk to deflect the gravity of your well-founded fears. and the silence left you cold.

for the first time, you were suddenly hoping that he might say something blasé, to tell you to stop worrying, to brush it off and just reassure you. but he didn't, he was quiet.

and so you turned to face him, and you felt almost villainous for verbalising your future grief like this, to one who must already have carried such an eternal, heavy burden.

no longer did the blue of his eyes shine like a spring sky, with feather-like clouds that danced in his iris. now, there was only a fractured storm. and god, you loathed that for the first time in what must have been years, his own face was reddening, his eyes suddenly teary, clouds gathering torrential rain.

you knew he hated being seen like this. over a decade of holding him close to your heart had made you privy to his ways, to the way that he'd furiously rub at his face when upset, as if he could will the distress away and hide his tears.

gojo had outstretched his little finger towards you now, hooking it with your own, and your heart stuttered as he brought your finger to his lips, so quick that a ghost may have brushed your skin, with the seal of a promise.

"i will try. god, i swear, i...i promise, i will try." and you knew that gojo satoru was scared, terrified even of what december 24th would bring.

"i -"

you wanted to say it all, wanted to tell him everything. but the words stuck in your throat, love and want and need and ferocious, capricious grief all sat lodged within your beating heart that was so tightly bound in iron chains.

it was a shameful thing. you should have sat there, and comforted him instead. should have told him that it was alright, and you did not know a more powerful and capable sorcerer than he, that he'd leave sukuna in ashes. should have laid your hand on his brow to soothe the lines away from his pale, streaked face.

but you had always been selfish, held onto your heart like a being of folklore, guarded and self-assuming. you wept heart-aching tears, feeling them pool in your sleeves, and run hot salt trails over your lips. maybe it was a testament to how much gojo satoru loved you too, that he could not bear to see you in such grief, and he hesitated.

then he turned to leave you by the window.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

the turn of the year felt cold, far too chilly, even though the night was still young. the city lights twinkled in solitary clumps outside, but they were just as dim as the heavy weight in your chest. the walls seemed to close in as gojo prepared to leave, to face sukuna — the king of curses. and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was slipping through your fingers, something that you would never be able to grasp again, no matter how tightly you gripped.

everyone had wished him luck, calling your their bravest words of encouragement as he walked past them, their voices echoing through the hall, as they slapped him on the back.

they all cheered the same platitudes.

"go fuck sukuna up!"

"language!"

"sorry, choso."

"show him what you're made of!"

"prove that you're not just a pretty face, gojo!"

and so you had plastered the same smile on your face, hoping that it would reach your eyes as gojo winked at you, "hey, before you start telling me off, now it's your turn to promise me something."

you had cocked your head up at him, ignoring shoko's narrowed, tired eyes, "yeah?"

"mhm," satoru nodded, pulling his arms around you, "after this, after all this bullshit, we get to take a vacation."

a barked laugh escaped you, before it collapsed into a giggle, "you want paid leave? that's all it is?"

your best friend's large hands gripped you, flat against your back, "yeah, that's all there is. we're gonna go take a holiday, sit by the beach, watch the ocean. keep it simple."

"a picnic too, eh?"

gojo nodded, humming, "we'll plan everything. about time we got to take a break. i'll be back before you even know it."

you felt his voice hitch against your ear, and your heart twisted painfully in response, he wasn't saying it but you both knew the cold truth, there was a real chance that he may never come back. before your vision could blur, you pressed his lips to his cheek, letting them linger for a moment on smooth skin (and you felt his arms tighten around you) and hoped that whatever you hoped to say, whatever spine you lacked, could be expressed so swiftly.

"come back then, please. i'll be ready." you whispered between his skin and your lips, the tremble leaving no space for air in your lungs.

for a moment, he didn't answer, just held you, and you tried to focus on the feeling of his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. then, just as you were about to pull away, he spoke, the words falling from his mouth, so familiar and so effortless.

"of course i will. i always do."

there was a flicker of something raw there in his eyes, and you had seen it both before and after shibuya. his lips parted as if he were about to say something, but whatever it was, it never came. instead, he just nodded, a silent promise — unspoken, but felt deep in your bones.

without another word, he turned toward the door. and just before stepping out, he looked back one last time. that smile, that arrogant, confident smile that always made your heart race —i t was there, but it wasn’t the same. it was stretched thin, fragile. his blue eyes were tired, haunted, and for a moment, you saw the truth — the part of him he always kept hidden. the fear. the doubt.

"i'll be back," he repeated, but this time, it didn’t sound like a joke. it sounded like a prayer. a desperate, half-broken promise from the closest thing that the world had to a god.

you couldn’t speak. your heart was lodged in your throat, and the words that you needed to say just wouldn’t come. you wanted to tell him that you loved him, that you always had, that you were scared to lose him, that the world without him in it felt like a hollow echo of what it could be. but you couldn’t.

instead, you just nodded, your face a mask of emotions you couldn’t express.

and then, with one final look, a look that held everything neither of you had the courage to say — he stepped out into the cold, his footsteps fading into the distance.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

gojo satoru was dead.

dead. killed.

for a moment, you stood frozen in the doorway of shoko's office, numbness seeping into your bones with a furious grief as you stared at the cold, unmoving form that was once satoru.

fuck, there was bile in your throat as a once lively boy now lay in four pieces, cleanly sliced by sukuna's unforgiving technique, and the sight was a nightmare made so real, something that you just couldn't reconcile with the man who had once been so vibrantly alive.

the warmth that had always clung to him had vanished, leaving his skin pale in the grasp of rigor mortis, and his lips were still flecked with dried blood that had painted a stark contrast against his stiff skin.

and his eyes, those striking blue eyes that used to glint with love and hope and dreams, were now dull, and still open. you had not the heart to close them, for once your hand pulled his eyelids down, you would never see them again, never look into his eyes until it was your time to pass from the circles of the world.

the last thing you’d seen of him had been that cocky grin, that wink that seemed so unbreakable, that laugh that lingered even as he left your embrace. he’d held you, promised you that he would come back, but now, as you stood there, that promise felt like a cruel lie, something that should’ve warned you but instead gave you nothing but hope.

you choked on a breath, your hand coming up to your mouth as you felt the weight of your unspoken words sink down like lead. i should have told him. you’d wanted to say it all, to let him know how much he meant to you, to tell him that he was your everything. but the words had died in your throat, held back by fear, by the delusion that there’d always be another chance, that he’d always come back.

you’d believed him. you’d believed, with every part of yourself, that he’d make it out alive.

but here he was, torn apart, the last shreds of life stolen from him by the king of curses. you had seen him being cut down, like a sheaf of wheat under a god's sickle, how sudden and gut wrenching it had been, and for the second time in a month, you had been on the edge of hurling onto the stone. but this time, the half-curse beside you, choso, hadn't stopped you from losing the contents of your stomach, as instead he had pressed his younger brother's cries to his broad chest, the grief swallowing the entire room.

gojo hadn’t been given the chance to fight back, hadn’t even been able to draw a breath before he’d been torn apart. and that final thought — that he’d been caught off guard, helpless, alone in his last moments — left you feeling shattered, grief clawing at you with merciless hands.

your knees felt weak as you moved toward him, your trembling fingers reaching out to touch his face, cold and unyielding beneath your hand. you traced the lines of his face, memorising every detail, as if somehow, through touch alone, you could keep a piece of him with you. a tear slipped down your cheek, landing on his lips, lips that had once murmured promises, had brushed against your skin in fleeting, unspoken moments. the tear brought moisture once more to the blood that splattered his face, but quickly, it disappeared, drying and taking away any life.

"i should’ve told you,” you whispered, your voice broken, raw, laced with the pain of regret, "i don't know if you ever knew how much i loved you."

you closed your eyes, the silence thickening around you, pressing down until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. your mind replayed every smile, every laugh, every word he’d ever spoken to you, each memory twisting the knife of grief deeper into your chest. the emptiness of the room swallowed you whole, and all that was left was the aching, unbearable reality that he was gone — that the man who had been your best friend, your confidant, your everything, was nothing more than a memory now.

you stayed there, your hand resting on his cold cheek, as if the warmth of your touch could somehow reach him, bring him back. but he was gone, and with him, he’d taken the words you’d never been able to say, the love you’d never been able to give.

and as the silence closed in around you, suffocating and absolute, you knew that part of you had died with him.

✉️ — not so long later. 💬 — you. it could only be you now, for you are the only one left.

the sun was beginning to set as you reached the shore, casting an amber glow over the ocean. the waves lapped quietly against the sand, as a gentle roll becoming a reminder that the world was still moving, even when the battles were done.

even though everything within you felt like it had come to a standstill. you clutched a folded piece of glossy card, and a box. two things that shoko said she found on him, things that she thought you should keep, she added quietly.

and so, you sat down on the sand, letting the evening wind sweep over you as you gazed out at the endless stretch of water. the ocean had always been something you had dreamed of seeing together, an endless horizon that was wild and untameable, just like gojo satoru had been. but he was gone, gone, and that promise would forever remain unkept.

you opened the folded glossy card, wincing as you tried not to press the faded creases further, brushing over the faded edges. it was dated to the fall of 2005, and you bit your lip as you saw your own image stare back at you. when the world had felt endless, and you had two wide eyes to see it with. there you were, that day in the market, laughing in the photo with your head thrown back sweetly, and you wetly laughed as you saw geto suguru's confused expression in the background, clearly exasperated with gojo's photography skills.

a choked sob escaped you as you traced your smile in the photo, so oblivious to what would come. you’d been so happy then, wrapped in a moment that had felt simple and whole. gojo had teased you relentlessly that day, snapping photos every chance he got, and you’d thought he was just being his usual, silly self. you’d never realised he’d kept this one one, never knew it meant enough for him to carry it all this time.

with a shaking hand, you opened the box, revealing the ring nestled inside. fuck.

it was beautiful, impossibly beautiful, as if he’d carefully chosen each detail with you in mind. the diamond glistened in the fading light, flecked with small blue stones that reminded you of his eyes, the eyes that used to light up every time he looked at you. this ring was supposed to be a promise, just as the ones you made when you locked little fingers — a promise he never got the chance to make, a life together that you’d both been too afraid to admit you wanted.

the first tear fell, splashing onto the sand below, followed by another, and then another, until you were trembling, the grief tearing out of you in waves, raw and unstoppable. you held the ring to your chest, clutching it as if somehow, by holding it close, you could feel him, hear his laughter, feel the warmth of his arms around you.

you could almost hear his voice on the wind, that playful edge mixed with tenderness as he called you by one of his ridiculous pet names. sweetheart, honey, my pumpkin pie, followed by your irritated huff telling him to drop those names.

but truly, here was nothing. just the sound of the waves, relentless and indifferent, echoing the hollow ache in your chest.

the what-ifs clawed at you, memories replaying over and over in your mind: moments when you’d almost reached for him, almost whispered the words, almost let your heart break free. but each time, you’d held back, too afraid to disrupt the delicate balance between you, too certain there’d be another day. but now, those moments were gone, scattered like dust in the wind, and the weight of those unsaid words felt unbearable.

you pressed the photograph to your lips, closing your eyes as if you could summon him back, if only for a moment. but when you opened your eyes, all that greeted you was the empty horizon, stretching out into nothingness.

"i love you,” you murmured, voice broken, barely more than a whisper. "i love you. i always loved you."

the words hung in the air, unheard, unanswered. it was too late, too late for confessions, too late for promises. the life you’d wanted with him, the life he’d carried in his pocket with a ring and a photograph, was gone, lost to the cruel twist of fate that had taken him from you.

you stayed there on the sand as the sky darkened, the weight of his absence pressing down on you like a storm. the wind whipped around you, cold and biting, and you shivered, clutching his ring, his memory, as if that alone could keep you grounded.

as night fell, the stars began to appear, dotting the sky with fragile points of light, distant and unreachable. and you sat there, letting the grief wash over you, lost in the silent, aching expanse of the ocean and the memories of a love that would remain forever unspoken, forever unfulfilled.

wasn't love the greatest curse of them all?

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo angst #satoru gojo #works #lol ive spent too long on this. will proofread later <3 #daphworks

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