#no more keepin' score

[tonycries]

Something Stupid - G.S.

Synopsis. Five times the strongest would rather díe than tell you he loves you, and the one time he almost does. Almost.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, friends-to-lóvers, canon fix-it, PINING, dry-húmping, face-sítting (fem receiving), creampíe, overstím, PÚSSYDRUNK GOJO, ríding him until he whínes, no smút until they’re adults obvs, slight ángst, manga spoilers, found family, THE HAPPY ENDING WE DESERVE, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.6k

A/N. Tumby lemme post this pwease? What canon? This is the only canon I know.

“Catch me if you-”

Sixteen-year-old Gojo Satoru doesn’t have the privilege of finishing his sentence - hell, he doesn’t even have the privilege of standing, apparently.

Because in the blink of an eye, his back is hitting the soft grass of Jujutsu Tech, followed very shortly by a bewildered you. Foreheads knocking together, your hands grabbing at his broad shoulders, his own wrapping around your waist for some sense of stability.

Years later, Gojo tells everyone that would listen - and anyone that won’t - that life became just a bit brighter ever since you crashed into his life that day - literally. 

But right now, he’s opening his mouth to spit an irritated, “Watch it!”

It’s the first words you ever say to him, a shrill - almost hysterical - “Huh? No, you watch it-”

“Nuh uh, you-” Head spinning, shades skewed, it takes Gojo a few seconds to screw his bleary eyes open to the sudden newcomer straddled on top of him. And a few more to register that no, he wasn’t in heaven and hey, that uniform looks familiar. And, unfortunately, not even a split-second longer to breathe out something stupid, “I…I think I love y-”

“You stupid, moronic- wait what?”

The next few words out of his mouth are just as bad as the last ones, if not worse. Because yes he knows - for once in his life - that maybe he should just stop talking. He knows that even a moment longer with you is gonna turn his mind into more of a melty, honeyed mess than Six Eyes ever could. 

Which is exactly what he blames when jumbling out a garbled, “Dinner tomorrow?” Wincing, Gojo swallows them back almost as quickly as he wished he was swallowed up by Geto’s rainbow dragon instead. 

To your credit, you look a lot less bumbling than the strongest currently pinned underneath you. That look of annoyance on your pretty features melts into something of concern. And before he can dig a deeper hole for himself, you’re raising the back of your hand to splay out across his forehead.

“I didn’t think you hit the ground that hard but-” you raise a brow, head tilting to the side. “-I think you’ve got a concussion.”

Oh, yeah he’s definitely in heaven - that or actually concussed. Maybe both.

A low whistle sounds from his right - and soon enough he’s staring at the shoes of the other first-year he’d met just today. Low bangs hanging over his face, jostling with light cackles, “Haven’t they told you not to confess your undying love until at least the second date, Gojo?”

Nevermind, he was in hell.

“Ieri!” Geto turns towards the other girl, who was busy typing away on her phone. But Gojo could’ve sworn he heard the shutter of a camera coming from her way. “He was flown out of bounds, that’s gotta count as one point for me, right? And another for the pretty girl. You keepin’ score?”

She only sighs, “No.”

What’s a first day at high school without a duel between two of the proudly self-proclaimed strongest? And, of course, you - the fourth addition to their little group, hastily scrambling off of Gojo’s lap at the jeering laughter from above. 

Dammit. 

Later, he might apologize for running headfirst into you - might. Ignoring the pointed giggles, and the burning rouge at the very tip of his ears, to find out your name. And to make up some stilted excuse about how that was completely the concussion talking and he totally wasn’t serious about having dinner so please, please, please don’t snitch to Yaga about the impromptu matches taking place on school grounds…unless? 

But for now, Gojo’s only lazily turning to look up at Geto, bringing a hand up to squint against the harsh sun beating down. Or, at least, that’s what it was meant to look like - “Technique amplification: Blue!”

He only hopes the property damage isn’t as high as what his poor heart had just gone through. Detention with Yaga be damned - and if by some grace of the universe he actually does end up escaping before he’s caught then, well, he’ll actually ask you out to dinner tomorrow. 

---

Gojo Satoru is almost eighteen when he thinks that not even the Gojo family’s most expensive insurance will cover whatever curse you’ve casted on his poor heart.

You’re both well into the second year, and by now he’d been to twelve different doctors, five shamans, and Principal Yaga himself before Geto smacked him upside the head. 

“Satoru, you complete imbecile-”

“Hey!” He fights out of his best friend’s grasp around the scruff of his uniform, crossing his arms over his chest with a whine, “I’ll have you know that I got the highest exam score last week, and I cheated only a little bit-”

Geto cuts him off with a sigh, wearily pinching the bridge of his nose, “No- you idiot. What do you mean you went to Yaga to girl-talk with him about your crush.” And when Gojo’s mouth falls slack, he’s smirking, “Oh- my bad, I meant your love-”

It’s said that Gojo’s gasp echoed all throughout the wooden corridors of the school - maybe even the entire grounds. Hotly, he’s sputtering out broken little excuses, “I don’t- what do you-” Before turning away to cool the burning of his sweetly rosy cheeks, “You’re the imbecile for spewing out such nonsense, Suguru.”

“Are you sure?” Geto turns to get a better look at the way those pretentiously expensive glasses fail to cover even the half of it. He’s never been able to, when it comes to you. “Because that’s quite literally the first thing you said to her-”

“I had a concussion!”

“After she touched you?” 

And for perhaps the first time in the years he’s been wreaking havoc on Earth, Gojo is speechless. A welcome change for Geto, who mulls over in the silence while they loiter - very much missing whatever mission was assigned right now. 

“I…” he starts, voice small. Pathetic, even. “...was concussed.” And before Geto can let out the same frustrated, dragged-out groan he often does whenever he’s around the two of you, Gojo’s plowing on, “But if I did lo- like her - hypothetically speaking - how would I even tell her?”

Usually, the other’s first reaction would be to tease his best friend. But at this moment he sounded so…young, painfully sincere in a way that was so disgustingly un-Gojo-like that he can’t help but cringe.

“Well, Satoru.” he muses, throwing a hand around his shoulder. “You just gotta…tell her my man. Preferably before that big mission coming up because I am not dragging your moping self around.”

He rolls his eyes, scoffing, “Gee, thanks. I’ll totally get on that tomorrow.”

“You’re welcome.”

BANG!

Yaga’s voice bellows, “Can you two stop doing this outside my office!”

And as much as Gojo hates to admit it, Geto was right - he usually was. 

Well - perhaps not about the love part, but subconsciously, he found himself seeking out every tiny moment with you. Every second by your side - ignoring the other two bothers - was a new opportunity to just tell you. To break that thick solitude inside your little bubble with those little words. Ones that would go and spoil it all. 

Not to be dramatic, but Gojo almost made a game out of it. Mouthing out the words whenever your back was turned - it started from “Dinner tomorrow?” to “I like you.” to something stupid that only gave Shoko aneurysms. 

And, expectedly, “tomorrow” doesn’t happen to be tomorrow. 

Tomorrow isn’t in your next class, or whatever mission Gojo tags along with you for “moral support.” Tomorrow isn’t the cozy little detention the two of you attend after catching Yaga’s interpretive dance routine - “that’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen- even more than any curse.” you whisper fearfully to him, and he thinks he might just blurt it out right then and there.

Tomorrow isn’t when he’s just about to leave on some confidential mission with Geto, bidding you goodbye with a roll of his eyes and a hug he pretends he doesn’t like as much as he actually does. Tomorrow isn’t even when he’s baking in Okinawan sun, or strewn out bloodied and left for dead on the very grounds he met you on. 

But oh how he wishes it was.

In that moment, incapacitated by Toji Fushiguro, and wondering where it went wrong, he thinks of you. Gojo thinks he’ll always remember you in every moment, and especially when they’re his last.

The Star Plasma Vessel mission and its aftermath takes up most of his mind afterward, even when he didn’t want it to. And all he can remember about tomorrow comes only a few months later, when an ashen-faced Gojo Satoru slams open the rickety door to your dorm.

“G-Gojo?” you sputter, sitting up in your bed. But before you can even think of reaching him, he’s crossed your floor in a few long strides. “Are you ok- mmpf!”

In an instant, he’s splaying out on your mattress, legs dangling off the end, strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist. 

Your first instinct is to snap something snarky - but every tease at the very tip of your tongue vanishes when he buries his head into your lap. And you feel something wet, something drench though your skirt heatedly. 

“Is…” you’re gulping thickly. “Is everything okay, Satoru?”

Ah, his name sounds too perfect on your tongue. 

“Suguru…” Is all he shudders out wetly, jittery hands looping even more vice-like around your figure. “He-”

It’s just about the only thing he can get out, and it’s just about everything you need to hear before bringing his shivering body closer. Quiet. Steady. Rocking the strongest gently, while you hum a wordless melody. “S’alright. S’gonna be okay.”

Now, he thinks. Now now now now - tell her. Tell her. But when a tear of your own stains his shirt, he knows. Hauling you in even deeper to his chest, he prays you don’t hear his thundering heart. Perhaps tomorrow. 

---

Gojo is twenty-one by the time he’s dragging you hand-in-loveable-hand through the winding hallways of an apartment in the heart of Tokyo. Mumbling excited little mutters, and almost tripping over his own feet with how fast he was navigating the corridors. 

“Sato- S-Sato-” you’re squealing out, grimacing at the tugging burn of your hands in his. “Toru! Where are you- taking me?” 

Sheepishly, he looks at you over his shoulder, “Whoops, did I forget to tell you- I have kids!”

He doesn’t know what’s louder - your shocked shout of “What? When?...By who?” or the screeching of his own two shoes skidding to a halt in front of that familiar door. 

“Well, they’re not mine.” Gojo sighs ultimately, with a hand at the door. And that makes you quieten down just enough to hear his barely-audible little whisper. Determined. Reverent, almost. “But they’re mine.”

And when he finally opens the door, just one look at the tiny, black-haired little boy and his sharp scowl is all you need to understand. You’re whirling your eyes back to his beaming gaze, oh, Satoru.

Only mere moments later the two of you - accompanied by a very begrudging Megumi, and his sister - sit by the booth of one of your favorite cafés. Embarrassingly, he finds himself sighing while watching you crack jokes with the little girl. Turning to the server to order for her - it almost felt like a little family. Oh you’d make such a perfect mother. A completely objective observation, of course. Completely. Unless- 

“You’ll never do it.” a tug on his sleeve has him facing Megumi’s leveled stare. How the hell does a kid manage to look like he’s seen the monstrosities of the world already? Gojo blames the father.

Baring his teeth, “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Little did he know that all it took was watching him seethe whenever the waiter by your side was just a bit too talkative, a bit too lingering with his gaze. In his little reverie, Gojo had accidentally croaked out a low, “I-” before you’d turned those pretty eyes his way, only to choke back embarrassingly on every syllable. Gesturing at you to ignore his little mishap. 

“Tell her, I mean.” Megumi hums. Taking a wizened sip of his milkshake, “She’ll date that waiter before you if you don’t tell her.”

“That’s so…so stupid.” Gojo whispers back hotly. “I will tell her.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Will not.”

“Will-” 

“Boys!” Your scolding tone makes them both jump - mainly Gojo, however, caught off-guard. Who scratches behind his neck when you wag a finger admonishingly, “Stop arguing, we’re in public. Now, as for payment-” Before turning back politely to the waiter.

“See?” Megumi counters, back to appraising the last of his cupcake. “You’re such a loser.”

Gojo’s gaze, however, stray back your way, as he found them often doing these days. Only to find them already on him, scrunched into crescents with a smile and twinkling so bright that he could almost catch his idiotic gawking in them. 

Very pointedly he ignores the knowing roll of Megumi’s eyes, the exact type he’s seen too much with Shoko, and Nanami, and Utahime, and Yaga - and every single being to come into contact with his almost-tangibly hopeless feelings for you.

Instead, slamming that shiny new black card of his down in front of him - with enough fervor that the tabletop jostles, and you jolt out of your conversation with the waiter. 

“I’ll be the one paying for myself, and my two kids and-” His burning eyes drink in every shred of surprise on your features. “-my wife.”

Somewhere in the distance, Gojo can hear Tsumiki giggle, and Megumi smack a hand onto his forehead. But right now he’s too busy remembering the exact degree to which your lips curl up, the way you hold back a laugh at the waiter’s jaw dropping. Nevermind the fact that the two of you were way too young to have two kids of this age. 

“He was getting a bit pushy.” you’d conspire afterwards, now completely full and fatigued after a long day. “Thanks for that, Toru.”

Gojo sighs, flashing you a megawatt grin. If there were ever a time he thanks his Six Eyes for being able to memorize every little detail - every little feature in this picture - then it would be right now. He’s reveling in the bittersweet perfection. Yeah, he thinks, holding up a sleepy Megumi in his arms, maybe tomorrow.

---

There’s actually been about sixty different times over the years that Gojo knows you’d wanted to punch him straight in his face - and he’s sure, at the age of twenty-seven, that this is the very latest one. 

“How did you get hit, don’t you have limitless?”

He shoots a wink your way, “Maybe I wanted you to patch me up?”

You scoff, “You stupid, moronic-”

“-no-brained, glasses-wearing dumbass.” he finishes for you, flashing you a cocky smirk that wouldn’t have been endearing for anyone but him. Gojo makes himself more comfortable on the hard infirmary bed, “You know, you’ve really got to update your list of insults, sweetheart. I don’t even wear the shades that much anymore.”

It was new - as soon as you’d cackled at the idea of him being a teacher with perpetual sunglasses, he’d wrapped that blindfold around his head. It was a slight shame, frankly, he was always honest with his eyes - but what was more important was that change.

Sweetheart.

Sometime after you’d intertwined seamlessly into Gojo’s mishmashed little family, he’d taken to calling you syrupy sweet nicknames. It’d started out as a joke, you think - with “sugarplum” and “honeybuckets” and whatever grocery item he could think of, before turning into something very, very real. 

Though, they still made poor Megumi grimace in disgust just the same.

“Zoning out on me, babygirl?” 

Yeah, sometimes they made you grimace in disgust, too. 

“No-” you’re rolling your eyes, putting a little bit more force than necessary when you dab the warm napkin at those tiny specks of blood on his lip. “Just hoping you’d shut up.”

Gojo hisses, eyes crinkling at the edges - and you can’t help but think of how much older he looked than the disgruntled sixteen-year-old that swore at you on your first day. 

“What?” his snowy brows raise, catching the hints of your laughter. 

You take a moment longer to bask in the memories, before sighing. “Nothing. Just thinking about when we first met, s’been ten years already, hasn’t it?”

Of course, it has - it’s not like something the great Gojo Satoru could ever even think about forgetting. He remembers it in every cheesy selfie from high school you show him, he remembers in each and every one of your laughs at his overused jokes - the same ones he’d cracked way back then. 

“It has.” he’s settling on after a few rare beats of silence. The thick white sheets on the bed rustle as he grasps your hand in his, “And I think I remember that today more than any other.”

It was impossible not to, when you’d just met your best friend after ten years. When you’d just killed your best friend with your own two hands.

Your pretty eyes shine with all the tears you’d been hiding, “Yeah? Guess so, huh?” Without warning, you bend down to meet your forehead with his, gulping back heavily. You knew he didn’t just want to be patched up, you knew better. And you knew that even the strongest gets lonely. Especially the strongest. Your voice is strained, quiet. “Do you think he’s happier now, Toru?”

Truthfully, Gojo doesn’t know. 

But he whispers anyway, “I think so.”

To soothe you - and himself - if anything.

His eyes burn, and he’s scrunching them shut. A lump forming in his throat, Gojo can feel his entire being just rattle with the sudden wonder whether you’d feel it just the same when - if - he dies. Would you ask if he’s happy, too? Thinking he did and had everything he wanted in this life - not knowing he’s searching for you in every one? This life, and the next, and each one after.

“Sweetheart.” Gojo mumbles, eyes widening when you’re raising your head to look back at him, as if he didn’t even expect the words to fall from his lips. His jaw clenches, eyes flitting between your eyes and your lips like the rest of it was just threatening to wrench from his throat. “He- Suguru. Back in high school - before he…left- he told me-” 

“Gojo sensei, where is the- Oh!”

The two of you jump apart as if it burned, and for Gojo, the angry split on his lower lip hurts infinitely less than losing your touch. Holding back a silent whine, he turns towards the dark-haired boy fretting by the doorway, “Yuta? Something wrong?”

“Oh, you’ve done it, newbie.” Panda’s deep voice sounds from behind the doorway, and he peaks his large head in. “Gojo’s got his serious voice on, should’ve just spied silently like me. I told you not to interrupt him and his wife.”

“You’re married?!”

“We’re not married!”

“Tuna.”

The room erupts in far too many voices, and before long you’re clapping your hands in that strict teacherly manner that Gojo teases you always learned from Yaga himself. 

“Okay, that’s enough.” you call out, before turning to the newest first year. “Okkotsu, do you need help with anything? I’ll be right with you.” 

“I…I really didn’t mean to interrupt.” he’s bowing with apologies, ones that you only wave away with a chuckled-out, “It’s okay, Panda’s joking. We’re not married or anything anyway.”

And Gojo doesn’t know whether the look Yuta gives him is more akin to pity or understanding - he prefers it be neither, which is why he’s covering his head with the blanket. Groaning dramatically until you’re turning your attention back to him. 

You ruffle the amount of his hair peaking, and he has to screw his glassy eyes shut. “Toru, what is it that you wanted to say?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s stupid.” His tone is unreadable, “I’ll tell you, hope- hopefully tomorrow.”

---

“Stay.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Stay.”

“Sweetheart.” 

You’re barely holding up the clingy mess that is a twenty-nine-year-old Gojo Satoru. Huffing and puffing in a way that makes his heart and his arms around you just squeeze, “It’s not an option. You know I have to do this.”

How he wished he didn’t.

How he wished he could grab your hand and run away from the fight with Sukuna, hide in the countryside of his hometown and build a new life with you.

It’s already been a hellish few weeks trying to get Gojo unsealed, and you can feel the last few months pounding at your temples. You let out a sigh, one that has him holding back a strangely giddy laugh. But before you can open your mouth to yell at him to not go - or more accurately, beg him until he doesn’t - there’s a tentative voice speaking up from behind you. 

“Um…sensei?” Yuji’s wide eyes sweep over his two teachers, being at Jujutsu Tech for a few months, he’s seen everything there is to see about the two of you. He saw the way you smacked the strongest when he got too mouthy, the way he let down limitless just so you could smack him. He saw the laughs, the looks, the way you’d flown into a frenzy when Gojo was sealed. 

Everyone saw.

It was like you were crazed, and right now, only a month after his return - you were gripping onto Gojo like he was the only thing keeping you anything but. 

So, it shouldn’t be new at this point. But he still can’t hold back the wonder in his voice, “I uh- wanted to ask about your robes for tomorrow- but maybe I can come back another time?”

“Yes yes, come back another time-”

“What robes?” 

You narrow your eyes at the man, and that sheepish little curl of his lips does everything but soothe your worries. He knew you saw right through him, you always did. 

Gojo’s exclaiming out loud, “Well- remember Toji-?” He waves his hands around, trying for a slightly softer way to say ‘the sorcerer killer and father of our honorary kid, who just-so-happens to be on a rampage right now’, before ultimately settling on, “-the worm guy? Well, I just figured I might as well take a page out of his book and dress like him, y’know since I’m fighting…Megumi after all.”

It takes a few seconds of stunned silence for you to find your voice, “You stupid-” 

“-moronic, no-brained, blindfold-wearing-”

“-dumbass! You remember what happened to him!” 

He bats his long, long lashes at you, “Why? Would you get this heated if I died just the same way he did?”

“No!” Your voice makes even Yuji flinch, which in turn has you reaching over to pat his head, “This is not on you, darling, of course. But your teacher here-” And it was comical, almost, the way the strongest stands up ramrod straight at just a leveled glare from you, “-will be getting it when he comes back from the fight.”

Comes back.

Oh, as much as Gojo throws his head back with chortles, he can’t help the way his heart twinges at the very thought of leaving you. 

And he can’t be sure of just how long.

“Ah, you talk too much, pretty. I’ll tell Megs how much you miss him.” You’re not given a second’s warning before you’re back in his embrace - more steady, this time. His arms securely around your waist, like they’d been twelve years ago and never wanted to leave since. Lips pressed up against the thundering pulse at your neck, Gojo’s voice dips just a bit lower than you’re used to. Breathing you in, “I will, too, y’know? Very much.”

Jittery, he could feel every slight tremor in your nervous fingers when you run them through his hair, dipping into the ends of his black blindfold. 

“Wh-what do you mean? S’only for a few hours, Toru.” you hum. “You better be back or so help me.”

“I know…” he heaves out, only pressing you close up against his broad frame. “But just in case- I-” Gojo’s voice cracks pathetically at the end, and he’s instantly too aware of Yuji’s keen eyes still watching. Edging up against the corner of the room like he wished he could have Gojo’s teleportation powers right about now. “-have something stupid to tell you. So I’ll hurry home anyways.”

You’re pulling back to quirk a brow, “Why not just tell me now?”

How he wished he could.

“Because it’s stupid.” 

Later, Gojo will find himself strewn across jujutsu hall with Yuji himself - the only one, other than you, he thinks, that can stand to be around a weapon like him right now. Listening to the hum of cursed energy in the air, he gets himself ready for the fight.

“Why didn’t you tell her? Especially now?” His student pipes up, suddenly, and Gojo remembers with a sigh just how uncomfortably in tune he is with everyone around him. Fearfully, so. “That you lov-”

“Because it’s stupid.” the older one grins. Such a sad, warmly smile - and for perhaps the first time, Yuji thinks that Gojo Satoru looks his age. “And I don’t think she’d want to hear it if I don’t make it to tomorrow.”

---

“Stupid.” you mutter, biting angrily at your nails. Hot tears burn behind your closed lids, and you can’t help but tighten your hand even more around his cold, cold ones. Limp. Like death. “You’re so, so stupid.”

There’s no response. No sing-song voice finishing off your insults, no large and ruffling your hair until you have to bat him away. 

Gojo Satoru was deathly still. 

Laid out on the cold mattress of his room, you’d bugged Shoko enough to let you move him here, knowing how much he hated the infirmary. 

“Being so reckless- having Yuta use your body-” in your fit of anger, you’re whirling your head up. Only for the pang of regret and grief to hit you tenfold all over again - because like this, he was too statuesque. A pretty mask of pale, what you’d give to have those eyes wink at you once more. “-if- when you wake up, I’m gonna kill you all over again.”

They told you he was dead - there was no point in waiting. In fact, you were sure there was a grave dug already, it was just a matter of how soon they could get to you. 

It was a strange thing, to be loved just enough to get a burial. In the end, it was lonely.

And so stupid. 

And at times, you felt that way, too. But all it took was one visit to where Geto’s grave was, a few long hours sat by his side, and you knew you couldn’t let Gojo escape you that easily. Not after everything, not after what he hasn’t told you, yet.

“Just wake up.” you sigh, the defeat bleeding into your every word. You run your thumb over the pronounced knuckles on his hand, calloused and scarred from his fight. “There’s so much to hear about. Higuruma’s alive, Nobara’s alive, pulling off that eyepatch. Like father, like daughter, huh? And Megumi- I saw Megumi laugh today. Yuji, too.”

Silence. Only stone-cold silence. He didn’t even move - not even the barest twitch of a finger.

“I just need you to wake up.” Your words are tumbling out a mile a minute, distantly, you wonder whether this was how Gojo felt when he first met you. How he couldn’t stop talking. Couldn’t stop wanting. “Shoko’s mad at you, y’know? But I know she misses you, no matter how much she pretends not to. I know that Jujutsu Tech can’t go any longer without Yaga, we- I need you. Didn’t even get to tell you-” 

It’s all croaked out into a deafening silence, at least if you were in the hospital room then maybe the pinging of the heart monitor might’ve accompanied you. But they’d pulled him off that, too. 

Unmistakable. 

“And I know that I…” You bury your face into the now-damp blankets, “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

There’s only the split-second you take to snap your head up before lips are crashing onto yours - plump, slightly-chapped but something so sweetly Satoru. Before you can even think about kissing back, however, he’s pulling away. 

Only to press hasty, chaste pecks again. And again. And again and again and-

Gojo kisses your wet eyelids, “I love you.” Your forehead, your cheeks, the corners of your lips. “I love you I love you I love you- and you beat me to it.” Those strained little words strike your very core - because it’s unmistakably Gojo. Sounding anything but, they’re broken and wrenching painfully out of his wracking chest. “So I just- I just had to-” Big, strong arms wrap around your middle - when did they even get there? It pangs somewhere in your hazy mind that you’re basically hoisted up on Gojo’s bed now, “-to do exactly what I’ve been wanting to since we were like this, thirteen years ago. Everything I’ve ever hoped for.”

“Everything?” you whisper.

“Everything. Even the strongest has dreams, y’know?” And he flashes you that smile you’ve missed so much, one you don’t think you’ve quite seen in years. “Even something stupid like ‘I love you.’”

That makes you cautiously glide over your palms onto the planes of his muscled chest, lightly pushing away to take in all of him. 

It was him. Alive. 

Really alive.

“Gojo…” you whimper, tears welling up behind your eyelids all over again.

“Ouch. Really?”

“Satoru.”

“Hmmm…”

“Toru.”

“That’s more like it.” The circled warmth around your waist crashes you even closer onto every ridge and divot of his hard chest, into the sweetest embrace - the kind you really couldn’t be mad about after your best friend had almost left you forever. “Told ya I’d come back, sweetheart.”

You could practically hear the sunshiney smile in his words, and his entire hulking body shook with emotion. 

“You’re back.” you breathe, dancing your arms upwards to wrap around his neck. “You’re here.” It takes only a second longer of being in his burning proximity, to catch that pearly white smile - tired, and infinitely harder than before - to have some semblance of rationality dipping into your mind. “-and- and we have to tell everyone!” you’re yelping. Moving to scramble off of his lap, “Oh- fuck, and they thought I was crazy. We have to- have to have Shoko give you a check-up and have Kusakabe finally ditch those funeral plans and-” 

You’re being shut up by Gojo’s lips on yours again, slow and sensual. It’s deeper this time, and he’s taking the time to part those candied lips of yours, sucking gently on the very tip of your hot tongue. 

“My funeral is the last thing I wanna think about right now.” he chuckles against your lips.

“But-”

“Tomorrow.” Gojo soothes, craning his weary neck to kiss your forehead. “We can do all that tomorrow. But right now, I just want to spend time with the love of my life.” His cerulean eyes just gleam with unshed tears and even more unspoken words, “Doesn’t have to be forever. Just right now.”

As promised, he’s petting up and down your body lazily. Kissing you until even smiling felt bruised and raw. But it’s only when the air grows thick, when the slight jostle of your body on top of his becomes hot, his own skin burning soon after that Gojo lets out a sullen hiss. 

“Toru-” you pull away panickedly, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the nonexistent air between you two. “We should really-”

“No- no no no no. Please wait-” Hastily, he’s bringing down a jittery hand to his hip, the buzz of reversed curse technique flowing through his thrumming veins. Meeting your uncertain gaze, “I’ve waited so long. Wontcha just let me worship you right now?”

As if to prove his point, he’s bucking upwards ever-so-slightly. The momentum teetering you precariously on his lap, dragging the heated core between your legs down in such a sloppy drag.

You’re gasping when the very outer edges of your panties rub up against something so hard, and rotund. Feeling the wet squelch of his angry tip gush out in a dripping wet wave at the friction. “A-are you sure?” you’re stammering, trying to hold back the way your greedy thighs were trying to rub together. Only achieving heavy, languid gyrations on top of the rock-hard outline of Gojo’s cock. “How about tomorrow? When you’re feeling better?”

It’s a slow, steady rhythm. There’s a ringing schwf! schwf! schwf! of sopping wet fabric, and it was driving him crazy. 

“Right now please- haaa-” Gojo’s tongue lolls out so sluttily to graze against your own, dazed blue irises rolling to the back of his head. His spine curves upwards, abs rippling with a harsh drag of your clothed pussy down his weepy shaft. “Whenever you’d have me.”

Almost tentatively, your hips roll forward. That flimsy excuse of your panties bunching up with each grazing rub, it’s all you can do to not just keen at the utterly delicious curve of his thick girth. Throbbing and twitchy under each of your motions. 

He’s hissing when your underwear snags on the very divot at his thick head, sitting up on two elbows, “S-sweetheart.”

“No, Toru.” your palms are back on his pecs, easily pinning the strongest down with a gentle push of your own. “Jus’ let me do all the work, m’kay?”

Gojo wasn’t all too happy - and the sullen pout jutting on his spit-glossed lips told you more than enough. But he wasn’t going down without a fight - that was for sure. 

“F-fine.” he grunts at a particularly harsh grind of your hips. Fuck, he felt like some animal, humping up into you like he was out of control. He could practically feel your puffed-up pussy lips through his pants, he could almost taste it. Two rough hands come to rest on your hips, grabbing and kneading a handful of your ass. “But then you’re not just hah- sitting there, pretty.” 

And, shit, even like this, you should’ve known better than to underestimate Gojo Satoru himself. Because whatever he wanted, he got. The one thing he didn’t was you - and now, since he had you, too, fuck- he might just be going insane. 

Not a moment’s wasted before you’re being so easily hauled up, up, up the entire expanse of Gojo’s body. Jittery body being balanced easily as if you were some type of toy, up from the slender curve of his toned hips, up around where his broad deltoids were spread, all the way until your cunt was hovering over his needy mouth. “Can’t believe I hngh- almost died without havin’ a taste of this pretty pussy.”

“Toru.”

“Sweetheart.” he mocks.

You shiver with each feverish puff of hot breath blown right onto your clothed cunt. And even more so when you’re feeling such a long, slender finger slide in through the translucent fabric. 

Fuck, Gojo swallows thickly, bunching up your skirt. You were so sopping wet he could almost see the outline of his index through your panties. He slides the back of it slowly up and down. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the volume of your saturated slick collecting on his digit, just trailing glossily down to his deft wrist. 

Mesmerized, your jaw falls slack at the sight down below of Gojo - cloudy hair mussed, cheeks all pink and burning a blushing rouge, tongue darting out to catch each stray drop of your sweet sweet juices. Drip! Drip! Drip! 

“Oh- sh-shiiit-” he rasps, lowly, mulling over your honeyed taste. Sounding so awed, breath hitching when Gojo tugs your panties just enough to the side to catch a mere glimpse of your messy cunt. Glistening and winking down lewdly at him. “S’jus’ you n’ me right now, huh?”

You don’t know who exactly he’s talking to - and you don’t get to find out, because that’s all it takes for Gojo’s kiss-bitten lips to clash messily against your cunt - panties and all. 

A soft swipe of his tongue glides the fabric to the side, so depraved, so needy that for that split-second he’s tasting you, he can’t even think of removing it. One taste of your sweetened pussy and he can’t even bear the thought of breaking apart, licking up in long, languid stripes that wet the very front of your swollen folds. 

Just the taste of you had him palming desperately at the tent in his pants, rubbing up and down at a pace that matched his rummaging tongue.

The very edge of your tastebuds rub so deliciously in teasing circles around the corners of your dripping silt, your inner thighs. 

“S-s’toru-” you’re letting out such throaty, dragged-out groans that send every drop of blood in Gojo’s body thumping to his achy cock. “Don’t be such a- a tease.”

You’re locking your glassy eyes with him and he feels like he could pass out. Groaning and smacking into your cunt, “Tell me- fuck fuck fuck- tell me what you want, sweetheart. Anything.” Your entire body arches into his hot mouth like such a slut, when he bullies between your folds. Barely flicking against the sensitive nub of your clit. “Everything. Anything for you.”  

When you’re weaving your fingers deliriously through his silky soft strands, he babbles, “Oh fuck- yeah, pull on my hair.” One of his hands come down to grip onto your panties, pulling the fabric so that you revel in the filthy friction. “Use me while you ride m’face, okay?”

With that, his mouth is sagging open even further letting your thighs straddle the entirety of his face so easily. So close. So messy how he was carding his tongue from the very base of your pussy, up into your quivering entrance.

“Fuck–” you’re whining, grinding into his touch when he wraps his soft lips around your clit. Barely even easing you with syrupy, wet circles of his heated tongue before sucking. Harsh. Depraved. But so, so him. “Don’- don’ stop, feels too good–!”

You didn’t know if he heard you, fuck you didn’t even know if Gojo was even breathing. 

Even if he wanted to stop - he didn’t think he could. Because he was so ravenous between your legs, forcing your pliant body into such smooth gyrations on his tongue. Silken, soft, such sultry licks of his tongue on your clit. 

Electricity sparks behind your eyes when with a wet slurp! he smacks away from your pretty pussy, “You think- you think I can stop?” And he sounds so genuinely in disbelief, as if the very thought of it was appalling. Through heavy, lingering kisses and sucks onto your clit, Gojo’s managing to get out, “I can’t have enough. Fuck- please.” The very rounded pads of his fingers dig so bruisingly into the flesh of your ass, jiggling and kneading with every drag of your hips. He’s begging at this point, “Fuck yourself on my face. Rougher, faster, c’mon now. You can do it, my sweetheart.” 

He was so fucking desperate, big fat tears almost welling in his eyes while he whined underneath you. Groping so obscenely at his sweltering hot erection. How could you not listen?

“If you say so.”

Using the vice-like grip on his locks, you’re managing to leverage your motions even deeper. Rougher, like he’d wanted. Every protesting creak of the bedpost was accompanied by a synchronized whimpering of ah! ah! ah! coming from both your mouths. 

“S’it good?” he gasps, and all you could see was the flushed upper half of his features. And the lower half - fuck, though the peaks and cracks you could make out just how glisteningly wet it was with all of your messy cunt. His lips were just drenched, slick-soaked mouth making out harshly with your pussy through your panties. Trailing all the way down in a glossy sheen over the lower half of his face, dripping off his chin, fuck- up to his cheekbones- 

As if that wasn’t enough, the massive palm resting at your thigh comes dancing down to tease around your sopping wet entrance. 

If you were in the right state of mind, you could’ve sworn that you heard a sharp rip! coming from that poor tattered fabric of your underwear right then and there. 

“Tell me- fuck fuck fuck- use that pretty voice of yours please.” Still suckling lewdly on your clit, his cheeks hollow out . Entire body just jolting upwards, forcing you to press down harder with your motions. “Use me. Use me.”

“S-so–” you mewl when his slender fingers bully easily past that first ring of muscle. So many cold inches of his digits, feeling around determinedly inside your heated, gummy walls for those sweet spots that will make you whine. “So loud, Toru-” you’re spitting, meshing his mouth even harder with yours down below. And you can practically feel him smirk against your cunt. “For someone that wants this s-so hngh! bad you sure are-”

There.

Right there.

Gojo Satoru had just crashed into the spongy cavern of your g-spot - easily, at that. And there was such a crazed, sloppy sting to each of his movements. Smashing in over and over-

“Heh…tha’s how I l-like it.” he’s spying up at your trembly thighs, the way his overworked lips were being coated with a fresh wave of our honeyed slick with each passing second. “Good girl- gooood fuckin’ girl–” 

Hazily, you’re wondering whether it doesn’t hurt. Whether his weepy cock ached just as badly as it looked, how his tongue isn’t fucking cramping up by now. 

But he goes on - like he couldn’t stop, like he was out of control. A greedy little push and pull, dragging his tongue all over until you saw flashes of white. Until you could only scream out his name like a mantra. Until you were cumming. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck- Toru!” your slurring out a mile a minute. Both of your hands now steadfast on his head, riding out your high all over Gojo’s pretty, pretty face. And he let you - fuck, he let you. “M’cumming- shit, feel so good. M’cumming-”

So good, so filthy that it made your toes curl, your hips stutter sloppily. Arching like such a slut, you could barely even see properly. Your breath was coming out in such labored heaves at this point, and Gojo wasn’t any better. 

It was like he couldn’t stop, happily drinking up every single, sticky drop your cunt had to offer. Pussydrunken eyes drooping shut, unable to let out anything but satisfied grunts. The muscle of his tongue is just frenzied in eager slips and slides along your cunt - absolutely no rhythm or method right now. Sucking, licking, biting anywhere he could possibly reach. 

“F-fuck–” you’re crying out tearily once the very peak of your orgasm fades, and all that’s left are a few overstimulated tingles being wrenched out by a greedy Gojo. “Toru, m’done.” You tug desperately on his hair - but even that doesn’t bate him the slightest bit. “S’getting too much- fuck-”

“Awww, too much for my girl?” he’s cooing, the words jumbling together in his drunken state. There’s a glossy mess of spit and slick drooling down the corners of his smirk. “Does this cute cunt of yours need a break?”

At your barely-lucid nod, it only grows wider. Smugger. “Too bad-” And Gojo’s just taunting you with a final, long lick up the very core of your pussy, “Because if I almost hah- died without her once, then you best believe m’gonna c-crawl back from death for ya each and every single time.”

It takes his strong arms - even bruised and battered through battle - only two whole seconds to plop you back down prettily onto his lap. Right over where his angry cock was just weeping for attention. And suddenly, it hurts without you. “So you’re not getting a break anytime soon. Maybe tomorrow.”

“Ha ha.” You’re rolling your eyes, “Very funny.”

“Mhm.” Gojo looks up at you through his white lashes, and you can only watch when he brings up his syrupy-sweet, glossy fingers up to his mouth. One by one. Sucking. Slowly, looking right into your eyes. It makes your mouth just salivate. “Got that right.”

The sheets billow behind you when you’re fumbling deftly with his shirt, all but ripping - tearing that stupid thing off of his form. Your skirt and top are soon to follow - his jaw clenches with the slight strain, leaving it in poor tatters on the floor.

“Shit- shit you’ve been-” his mouth just waters when your tits are released from your bra. Jiggling tantalizingly in his face in a way that makes him bury into it. “-been holding out on me.”

“Oh-” you let out, traitorously, at the first sight of each curve and divot along his milky sculpted body. Gojo Satoru was serious about dressing up like Toji, and no matter how much his t-shirt looked so sinfully painted on - actually seeing it was something else. “You’re so pretty, Toru.” You smooth your palms down his large shoulders, the faint scars between his pecs, his abs - that scar. Stark and large, Shoko had done her best work, but it still looked so painful. It must feel so, too, being sewn back together like some ragdoll. He catches the way your expression dampers - of course, he does. “Toru…”

Gojo winces when your fingers glide over that jagged scar. But if that was pain, then it was absolutely nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated fear when you abruptly pull your hands away. 

“S-sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“No!” he cuts you off, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist. All but dragging it - right along with you - to his still-healing body. “Touch me. Hurts more when you don’t.”

You’re batting your lashes up at him in a way that makes his heart stutter, and his poor, angry cock twitch. “Hurts me when you lie.”

“M’not lying, see?” With a low nod of his head, he’s gesturing you to look down - where it was unmissable. 

Because straddled right in-between your pussy lips was Gojo’s erect cock - proud and so prominent, even through his pants. With the sheer girth bulging upwards you could feel your greedy pussy dampen over the cloth in anticipation. 

“Well…” He’s throwing his head back when you knead your palm over the very end of his print, “I can’t quite see-”

Gojo takes the hint - and you have to bite your lip from teasing that it was quite possibly the only hint you’d thrown his way that he’d actually understood. But it was so hard to - not when he was this eager. 

And, on those long, lonely nights, you’d imagined that your best friend would be suave, infinitely collected with things like this. 

But, no, he was fumbling and jittery with his movements. So needy to please you that it takes you to help him pull down his tight, sticky boxers over the curving muscle of his thighs. 

“O-oh fuck–” you breathe out, when he finally springs out. Sweeping up and down each and every long, thick inch of him - Gojo was as hard as if he was carved out of fucking diamond. Such a furious, rosy red at his leaky tip, glistening down, down, down into the most mouth-watering shade of creamy pink at his thick hilt. He was so big. Your thighs squeeze together in sultry need - with a slight tinge of fear. So unfairly pretty - even like this. “You’re- you’re so much bigger than I’d imagined, Toru.” 

No sooner are the words out of your mouth that you’re being flashed with his dark smirk once more, “You imagined this?” There’s a slight reverence to his voice, scared. 

It almost makes you shy - and Gojo can practically sense the waves of embarrassment rolling off of you. 

“Awww, come back to me, please, pretty- Please-” he purrs, cupping your cheeks. “I came hah- back, didn’t I?” You’re being jostled to and fro when he rests himself more comfortably on the bed, leaning back to admire you further. “And now-” Your breath hitches in your throat when he situates himself right in-between your thighs, the fat curve of his head so swelteringly kissing your folds. Drenching it in his thick precum, “-now m’never gonna let ya go.” 

Fuck, you know you should heave in a few gasps of hair, you know you should relax, maybe even stretch your legs wide open.

Because Gojo was so fucking big, it felt like he was splitting you from the inside out. Just the slight push of his tip bullying between your folds has you moaning - crying.  

“You- you’re so big-” Your nails dig into the plush of his pecs for stability, leaving neat crescent patterns that stand out redly. “S’like you’re reaching into my hngh- l-lungs-”

Just those words have him expanding even deeper, ruddying even more furiously. Gojo gets so much bigger that you just can’t help but sink yourself down his shaft, feeling your elastic walls contort so easily around his length. 

“H-heh– ohhh-” he breathes out - baritone voice lilting a few pitches higher than usual. The hands around your waist grab you even harsher, feeding you each inch by fucking inch of his fat, pulsing cock. “You got me- so–” His hips thrust upwards in mindless little jabs, “-fucked up, right now, sweetheart.”

And while all you can do is whine and moan around his unforgiving cock, Gojo babbles on, “B-better get ready ngh- because I’m gonna be riiiight-” His thick index draws and invisible line up, up, up to somewhere midway up your stomach. Before pressing down. Brandingly. “-here.”

The pressure is enough to have your hips just slamming down with a wet smack! all the way to his hilt. The slap of skin-on-skin rings through the heady air and into both your drunken brains, making him just throw his head back into the plush pillows. 

“Yes-” you’re keening, your fingers wrapping subconsciously around Gojo’s pretty throat to have him facing you once more. He was so gorgeous this way - blue eyes falling shut with pleasure, mouth bitten raw and parted into a soft oh! pale muscles twitching with each breath. So fucked-out already that it almost made you think the sight alone could have you cumming. “Look at me, Toru- hah- gonna make up for lost time, right? Gonna fuck me good?”

His answering nods are more than enough, but Gojo doesn’t just stop there - no, he’s putting in every bit of last strength he has to just hammer into you upwards. Meeting every one of your relentless bounces down on him, he just clashes into your ravaged g-spot.

“Oh yeah, my girl.” he spits, a twinkling trail of drool dripping down the side of his lips. Crushing you so tight to his hardened front, “Ride me- ride me jus’ like that. Fuck- thought I saw heaven on the battlefield but it might jus’ be this pussy-” Over and over.

The back of your hand ends up on his forehead, “I think you’ve got a concussion.” It was in every little touch - that “something stupid.”  

At your surprised giggles, he’s rummaging your insides even more ferociously. Smushing the very end of his thick head against your spongy cervix. It was so soft, so swelteringly hot having him inside you. Clashing in long, wet glides against every inch of your pussy. 

The stretch was dizzying - and if it hadn’t been for Gojo’s lips attacking yours, then you’d have let your head loll backwards. It’s like he was marking you from the inside out, bruising the plushy insides of your cunt to every ridge and thumping vein down his possessive cock. 

“Spit on me.” 

His sudden plea puffs out of his plump lips, startling you out of your cockdrunk little reverie. “Spit on me, please, pretty. Mmpf-”

Gojo whimpers - whimpers - when the thick wad of your saliva hits his pink tongue, and the action has him delving into you impossibly deeper. Planting two feet onto the mattress, he angles his hips into your tight channel even harsher. Grimacing at the slight twinge of pain, “Shit-”

“Toru–”

“Wait wait- please- let me-” Expectedly, he’s cutting you off frantically. Begging, pleading with everything he had before activating reversed curse technique more. “Wanna fuck this gorgeous cunt so bad- fuck fuck fuck-”

But you’re only grinding your hips down faster - all the way from the pretty pink tip of his cock, until your ass massages against his tight, cum-filled balls. Thwacking! against your skin deliciously, pushing you up to scratch your clit against his snowy pubes. 

A few more unapologetic kisses up against your sweet spots have you blinking back stars, “Toru–” Your swiveling motions have him so hypnotized, following every move where his massive cock was disappearing in and out of your snug hole. “Kiss me-”

Oh, you didn’t even have to ask.

It’s such a sloppy kiss - all teeth and lips and Gojo grunting gutturally into your mouth. Letting you just use him like your favorite toy, fucking him until the bed creaked with effort and Gojo’s balls just smacked! angrily.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers. Drinking in your saccharine sweet gasps when he dips down one of his hands to your puffy clit, rolling the soft edge of his thumb in slow, methodical circles. “You’re gonna be the ah- d-death of me.”

Your hand around his throat tightens, making his eyes just roll back in ecstacy. “Better not die on me just y-yet, Toru. Not now, not tomorrow.”

For this, you’re being gifted with such a tight squeeze of his two fingers around your sensitive nub. Wracking your body forwards - exactly where he wanted you, exactly where he needed you to smash his sobbing tip into your g-spot. 

The stimulation is too much, and each of your pressurized slams down onto the sharp bones on Gojo’s v-line have him moaning. Bucking up helplessly whenever your heavenly walls drag sloppily up his shaft, like it hurt to not have each and every one of his heated inches buried inside. 

“Well- then-” You’re riding him now just as much as he was fucking up into you, leaving a damp puddle of slick and dredges of precum on the sheets below. Gojo’s punctuating each word with a harsh battering ram, “Better- cum f’me soon, huh? Because m’not gonna- fuck-” His nagging tip jolts into your sweet spots as if being zapped with white-hot electricity, in such a sloppy staccato with his feverish fingers. “-fuck I don’t think m’gonna last long.”

You’re nodding your head, clinging onto him like a second skin. “Mhm- m’so close, Toru.” Biting down wetly on his lower lip, “-gonna cum soon.”

Just the thought of it has him keening, stuttering up so messily. His precum coats your insides even more slippery slick, so heated in a way he thinks he might just explode. 

“I know, I know, sweetheart–” he’s simpering down in your tone, though his hips were anything but. Letting out some of the lewdest slurps that made your ears ring. “I got you. I got you, cum all over my cock, yeah?”

It only takes a few more mess strokes from both of your sweat-sheened bodies before you finally reach your high. Electricity thrums down your veins, your body arches so deeply into his. Bending into the perfect bow that has him spying down at your quivering folds, the way your gushing cunt expands and contracts through each and every one of your waves of pleasure. 

And he’s fucking you through it so filthy, fingers toying so erratically on your clit. Still reeling, still smashing the very divot of his cock into your bruised g-spot. Again and again.

“Ohh- fuuuck—” Gojo whines, eyes scrunching shut. Strained. Depraved. “Fuck fuck fuck me- please, please m’gonna-”

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before he’s stuffing your snug pussy full with ribbon after ribbon of thick, velvety cum. Potent seed coating your gummy walls in such a milky sweet gloss, the squelches from below are so loud. So soppingly wet. 

The hand at your waist moves down to where your poor cunt was just bulging with all inches of his spazzing cock. Gojo’s thumbing apart the corners of your slit just enough that his swelteringly hot cum oozes out of you in a slow trail. Sinful. 

“Oh my god-” he breathes, eyes unwavering. Hips thrusting upwards to push his cum up into you even deeper. It glistens opaquely down his length, forming a creamy ring at his thick base. “Oh my god love you- fuck!”

“Toru- m’so full-” you whine. A hand of yours coming up to press exactly where he had before, except now you could feel the nudging pace of his ruthless cock, the sloshing of Gojo’s seed all up inside you. “-really can feel you right here.”

“Tha’s the point, girl - my girl, should I say.” he’s pressing such a chaste kiss to your lips. And it would be swee - almost - if it wasn’t for the way Gojo’s greedy fingers soak themselves in the obscene mess from your cunt down below. Bringing them all the way up, up, up to his mouth. Suckling gently, “But…but you wanna hear something stupid?”

Your eyes widen, “Wh-what?”

And he only grins,  “I hope you know I love you, sweetheart. Because you sure as hell aren’t walking tomorrow.”

A/N. Can y’all tell I’ve been widowed not too long ago? Anyways, last post before kínktober! I tried posting this on Sunday but it refused to work so pray for me this time y’all *SOBS* <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[impala-dreamer]

It's Fucking Unprofessional

A Story from The Boys Universe

~ While working as a PA for Vought, Y/N has made one promise to herself: to stay the fuck away from Soldier Boy. Some promises are too easily broken…~

Soldier Boy x F!Reader

2,434 Words

NSFW. Snark. Cursing. Assholery. Fucking. 

For @jacklesversebingo “You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions”

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

He was terrifying up close. 

It wasn’t just the knowledge that he could rip her apart with a simple flick of his wrist, or shove her so hard she’d splatter against the wall like a bug on a windshield. It was much worse than all that. It was the fact that he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. His green eyes behind that mask were piercing… the way his muscles pulsed beneath the suit was mesmerizing… the way he walked with that bow-legged swagger was sexy as hell. Being attracted to the epic piece of shit was way more dangerous than the threat of death.  

When Y/N got the job at Vought Studios, she made a promise to her diary and herself. In no way would she get so close to him as to give away the fact that her innocent pussy dripped whenever he was around. She would ignore him entirely. Besides, his behavior was reprehensible. His attitude toward women was disgusting. His ass was so perky and tight and… No. She was going to be strong. She was going to steer clear of all that nonsense.  

Not that he’d ever pay attention to someone like her. The key aspect of her job was to be neither seen nor heard; just a person waiting in the wings to hand off a prop, run and get coffee, and clean up the dressing rooms. It would be easy to stay in the shadows, completely off his radar. 

Soldier Boy was pissed. 

He may have actually been pissed as well as just angry: he stank of rye and stale cigarettes, and fumbled over his lines more than a few times. 

For over an hour, he held the crew hostage while attempting to film his required Anti-Drug PSA. Vought was trying to score some points with the public by helping out D.A.R.E. by pimping out their celebrity supes for commercial spots. Soldier Boy was next in line and very unhappy about it. 

After the twentieth take, he demanded caffeine and production halted until Y/N returned with a styrofoam cup full of black coffee. 

Y/N held her breath and tried to walk away without really looking at him, but Soldier Boy flipped. He sniffed the drink and sneered. 

“Is this hot?” 

Y/N stepped back as he stared into her eyes, daring her to say something. A wave of arousing fear washed over her as he slammed the cup to the floor. It splintered like rotted wood and the hot liquid went everywhere. 

“Iced!” 

She jumped. 

He raged on. 

“Iced coffee!” he screamed. “It’s not hard!” 

Nerves ran down her spine and Y/N moved to grab a rag from the craft table.

“It’s fucking unprofessional!” 

A knot formed in her chest and instead of shying away, she felt a surge of defiance. 

“You’re fucking unprofessional,” she ripped under her breath. 

Soldier Boy’s head cocked to the side. She felt his eyes on the back of her neck, digging in. 

“Excuse me?” 

Y/N turned back with the cleaning rag in hand. “Hmm?” 

His jaw clenched and his upper lip twitched. “The fuck did you say to me?” 

Batting her eyes innocently, Y/N shrugged and bent down to mop up the spill. “I didn’t say anything.” 

His anger followed her down, watching as she dabbed at the floor. Leaning close, he whispered a warning. “I have super hearing, you know.”

Y/N hummed as if she found him boring even though she was screaming inside. “That must be fun for you.” 

Again, his teeth gnashed together and she swore she could feel the air around them grow hotter. A deep growl rumbled in the back of his throat and Y/N met his gaze, unfazed but terrified. He was taken aback by her bravery and somewhat impressed by her attitude.

“You know-”

The director called for attention and Soldier Boy sat back up, getting ready while keeping one eye on the mouthy PA. 

“OK! Let’s run again!”

If he got through two lines in a row, it was shocking. More than once, he stopped just to glare at Y/N. She couldn’t tell if he was contemplating snapping her neck or undressing her with his eyes, so she kept her arms crossed and her expression cool. 

“If taking drugs is uncool,” he mumbled, laughing at himself, “then I’m the most uncool motherfucker on the planet…” 

Some of the crew laughed along, but Y/N sighed heavily and rolled her eyes. “You really are,” she muttered. 

His laugh died away instantly and he threw daggers with his eyes. “Fuck you.” 

Y/N cocked a brow. “Like I’d let you,” she laughed. 

Soldier Boy straightened up, surprised. His annoyance turned to interest and he licked his lips. “Oh, I think you’d let me.” 

She tongued her cheek and popped a hip. “You think?” 

“I know.” 

“Pfft.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t handle me even if I came with instructions.” 

His smile faded and she turned away, giving him a literal cold shoulder. 

The air shifted and her heart stopped when his big hand wrapped around her upper arm, jerking her back a step. 

His lips grazed her ear. “You wanna rethink that last statement, sweetheart?”

Y/N tried to wrench her arm away but his grip was absolute. She spun around to face him and nearly lost her footing. He was impossibly close and regrettably gorgeous. She gasped. 

“Get off me.” 

He blinked slowly and looked her over. He could hear her heart pounding, see the blood rush to her cheeks, smell her arousal. “You’re so… interesting.”

She swallowed hard. “W-What?” 

“Defiant and bitchy, but oh so hot for me.” 

“Fuck you, no I’m not.” Again, she twisted her arm to break free but it was no use. 

His fingers tightened, bruising her flesh. “You are,” he grinned. “I can smell it.” 

“You’re disgusting,” she spat. 

Behind them, the director tried to regain control. 

“Um- let’s uh- if we could just go one more time-” 

Soldier Boy shook his head. “No. We got it.” 

“We really didn’t,” the man pleaded. “I really think we should go again from the top.” 

“No,” he repeated, dragging his eyes down her trembling body. “That’s a wrap!” 

She wasn’t sure if he was carrying her or if they were simply moving too fast for her brain to register her feet on the ground. 

Soldier Boy broke the lock on a random office door and shoved Y/N inside. He flipped on the lights and kicked the door shut as he turned to smirk at her. 

“Now, where were we?” 

Y/N backed away, internally battling her desire and aversion. “I believe I was telling you what a piece of shit you are.” 

He laughed at her daring words. “You’re something else, you know that?”   

She shrugged, playing it cool. “It’s been said.”

“Yeah, but not by me.” With a smug smile, he pulled the mask from his face and ran a hand through his hair. 

Y/N felt her defenses crack. Her vision blurred for a second. “Um… I… really don’t care what you think, actually.” 

He clicked his tongue and took a step closer. “I think you do, actually.” 

Her heart skipped two beats in a row and then struggled to catch up. “Actually, you can fuck off.”  

“Maybe.” Soldier Boy grinned and closed the space between them. “Or…” He reached for her throat and her body tensed. Instead of a death grip, he slipped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her close. He was gentle, but she could feel the strength pulsing underneath his touch. “I can fuck you.”

She couldn’t think of a protest that would even remotely come off as true but it didn’t matter anyway. Before she could speak, his lips were on her and her mind melted. He slid his tongue between her lips and her breath stopped. He ran his left hand across her tits and her legs went weak. 

When he pulled back, she swayed forward, caught in his pull and utterly on fire for him. 

His laugh was smug. His lips were wet and plump. 

“Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he teased. “But it was a nice try.” 

Every bit of resistance faded into his grin and Y/N dove at him, grabbing a fistful of the fabric collar loose around his throat. He laughed into her hungry kiss and set his hands on her hips. He lifted her as if she weighed no more than a feather, and slammed her down onto the desk like she was simply a toy for his amusement. 

He rocked into her and Y/N moaned loudly. His cock was hard and she reached down, rubbing him through the spandex tights. 

“How- how do these come off?” she whimpered, tugging at his bottoms. 

Another deep kiss blew her mind and Soldier Boy held her chin in two fingers, stretching her throat and setting her face where he wanted. She held the pose while he backed away and stripped for her. Layer after layer of forest green and woody brown fell away and Y/N clenched her thighs tight as more muscle was revealed. 

“Fuck… you’re gorgeous,” she breathed. 

He smirked and spread his feet apart. “I know.” Grabbing his dick, he stroked himself slowly and nodded at her. “Now you.” 

Y/N shivered and hopped down from the desk. Nervously, she tugged at the hem of her oversized periwinkle sweater and yanked it up. 

Soldier Boy sucked his teeth. “No. Slowly.”

She took a breath and started again, this time lifting away the soft polyester slowly and deliberately. Next came her jeans and he hummed in lustful admiration as she tugged the acid-washed denim down her thighs.  

“Very nice.” 

Embolden, Y/N turned and shook her ass for him as she unhooked her bra. 

“Go on…” 

She tossed the garment over her shoulder. 

“Keep going.”

Aching with anticipation, she slid her hands into her panties and inched them down, bending at the hips and showing him everything. 

“Fucking hell…” 

He was on her in a second; big hands tight on her hips, hard cock snug between her thighs. He settled there for a moment, letting her juices drip down onto his throbbing shaft. She leaned back and he scratched his fingers up her sides and scooped her tits into his warm palms.

“Fuck… your hands are so big,” she mewed. 

He jerked his hips and the tip of his cock slid against her clit. 

“Just my hands?” 

Y/N bit her lip and wiggled against him. “Let’s find out.”

He flipped her over like it was nothing and threw her down on the edge of the desk. She spread her legs wide and he set up camp between them. 

“You ready?” he asked, already lining up. 

She nodded breathlessly and arched her back off the desk, begging. “Do it. Please!”

It was almost painful the way he snapped his hips into her. His thick cock spread her apart and her flesh burned at the pull. She bit back a scream when he pressed all the way in; dropped her jaw when he tugged her hips down off the desk. His blunt nails sunk into her soft curves, nearly drawing blood. She held her breath. He thrust his cock deeper inside. She lost her mind. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” It was all she could say and it amused him like nothing else. 

With a grunt, Soldier Boy lifted her legs high and pushed forward, bending her in half. The new angle pushed him in so deep Y/N thought she could feel his cock tap against the base of her throat. She gagged and her eyes rolled. He laughed and dipped down to lick at her lips. 

“What a good little bitch,” he teased. “Taking my cock so good.” 

She moaned with each hard thrust and her tongue rolled out of her mouth. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. There was nothing but mindless, pounding pleasure and his bright green eyes. 

He ran his tongue up hers and hummed. “That’s a good idea.” 

In a flash, she was on her knees, swaying side to side as he stroked his cock. His fist was a blur, her eyes were white. 

“Open wide.” 

Y/N dropped her jaw and he slid inside. 

“Suck.” 

Her lips clamped down and she took a deep breath, pulling at his velvety skin. Her tongue undulated against the pulsing vein of his big cock and Soldier Boy fit his giant hand on the back of her head. He held her in place and bucked his hips, jabbing his cock down her throat. She choked on him, moaning in bliss and protest as spit spilled from the corners of her mouth and coated her tits. 

“Fucking perfect,” he grit, throwing his head back and enjoying her desperate whimpers and the tightness of her throat. 

Her eyes began to water and he could hear her lungs screaming for air. He set her free. 

“Fuck!” Y/N wobbled on her weak knees and nearly fell to the floor. 

Soldier Boy caught her quickly and set her back on her feet, bent over on the desk. Her tits smashed against the wood and he kicked her legs apart. 

��You’re one hell of a PA,” he praised. 

Her cunt pulsed as he ran the tip of his cock across its lips. “It’s… my… job…” 

He grinned. “Sure is.” He pushed inside. “Gotta give the talent your full attention.” He slapped her ass hard. “Give them anything they want.” He grabbed the back of her neck and lifted her off of the desk, arching her spine awkwardly. “Isn’t that right?” 

She moaned. “Yes!”

“Correct.” 

He let her go and she fell back down, just a ragdoll for him to fuck to his satisfaction. 

When he was done he slapped her ass, leaving a welt behind as a souvenir. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, already forgetting about her as he tugged his suit back on and fixed his hair. 

Y/N crumbled to the floor, her legs spread wide, her back against the desk. She sat there for a long while, feeling his palm print burn on her bottom and his cum leak from her cunt. He didn’t look back as he left, didn’t even shut the door. 

Soldier Boy disappeared down the hall and Y/N shook herself, wondering how the hell she’d broken her promise and let him get to her. 

Not that she was mad about it. 

Just sore. 

[viivdle]

can we talk about how "long story short" is ACTUALLY jurdan??

"I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me" JUDE. not to mention literally every other line in this song is jude

"Clung to the nearest lips Long story short, it was the wrong guy" and said guy was locke "Now I'm all about you" "No more keepin' score now I just keep you warm No more tug of war now"

JURDAN.

[vipersiia]

XYX HEADCANONS

i have recently joined the bloomic discord and talked abt xyx, with,,, so many people and here r my headcanons, there are,,, a Lot of them and they are so so so fluffy i promise

OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL - he has such a thing for petnames, and will Melt if u reciprocate

absolute pro at not being able to take what he can dish out, dont fret though, he absolutely builds a tolerance

ironically uses terrible pet-names in public, if you use some on him he Will make it a competition and he Will win ("snookums here wants a refund on this." "yes sorry, mcdreamy here said it didn't look good on me" "oh schmoopy , how you wound me i did not sa that")

xyx is such a people-pleaser, so he Knows what you like and what you don't, he'll keep an eye on your expressions subtly ("hey babe why is there so much snack you really like in our pantry?" "it was on sale!")

he will Spoil you, he's not the type to spend a lot of money on himself but on You?? oh you better watch out

still careful with his money but if you're eyeing that bag, or pair of shoes, or poster, he will buy it for you.

even if you off-handedly comment wanting something, expect it in your arms Soon ("i saw this really cool poster at the mall today?" "oh really? what did it look like doll?" "it was like, of my favourite character holding their love interest" "oh thats very cool" schemes)

will absolutely do the evil villain chair in dark thing with Cat if you come home late ("i've been,, expecting you" "babe its 1 am what are you doing up?")

he knows your favourite drink, exactly how you like it, and it tastes perfect everytime. YOU NEVER TOLD HIM EITHER, he just had you try a buncha things and watched your reactions ("hey love, im trying out a new recipe, wanna try?" "of course!")

dont think about it but seeing him playing with cat, watching the muscles in his arm flex??? him Noticing you noticing and flexing a lil harder, before going all out, Cat meowing indignantly over his bicep???

stop thinking about xyx coming home from work, seeing you and Cat cuddling on the couch?? being so in love that he scored someone as amazing as you?? he is just, so so so, in love with you at the moment?? that he just, comes over, picking u both up and twirlin you around. Cat immediately, outraged bats him the face but he doesn't notice because you're giggling so hard rn

if he's meeting your parents??? ohhh be prepared, he is such a smooth talker and hes Proud. He comes in, nicest most neutral cologne, nice powersuit, a subtle chain necklace with your initial???

he is All smooth talk, keepin an eye out for any cues of like or dislike on topics, always complimenting whoever cooked

when getting to the Interrogation? oh he's Ready ("so what do you do for a living" "oh well i work as a lawyer, it makes me elated to be able to provide for mc like i can" "nice, nice" *visibly impressed*)

the car ride home after??? oh he is Menace, he is all grins, puffin out his chest like a bird ("doll they loOoooveee me" "did you see that? arent you proud love?") you're gonna have to keep saying yes but its okayyy because you're both sickeningly in love with eachother

him being hella cheesy, tellin u one day ("hey doll, i bet i can hold the entire universe in my hands" "what??") and immediately cupping your face??? pulling you into a soft kiss??

you keeping that in ur mind,,, ready to strike back?? sitting on the couch with him laying between them, cheek pressed into your thigh as you both play with Cat? when Cat leaves, leaning down and cupping his face in your hands??? ("you are so gorgeous babe") and he goes Red (mc - 1 / xyx - 4million), his breath Stops.

leaning down to kiss him??? catching him even more off-guard?? absolute knock-out. he tries so hard to play it off ("ill never be as gorgeous as you doll") but being sooo off his game? so caught off guard??

a sunshower happening, cue you, dancing in the rain like a madman??? him coming over and seeing you?? glad u cant see him because he is Positive he looks so sappy rn. eventually meeting his eye?? running up to him and grabbing him by the hand?? leading him into the rain?? he immediately takes over the dance, spinnin and twirlin you around.

pulling you into his arms?? arms resting on your hips as you grab him by the face?? pulling him into a kiss???? laughter breaking out between you two, as he peppers your face in kisses??

doing research on filipino wedding customs, finding out that you traditionally ask the parents for their blessing

ASKING XYX'S PARENTS FOR THEIR BLESSING?? going over to their house for a dinner plan, getting him distracted and asking his parents for their blessing??? planning the wedding with them??? burning the unity candle?? the rice toss?? the money dance???

at the altar, can't even get though the first line of his vows before he cries ( "and i, xyx tak-" *literally sobbing*)

DOING HARANA FOR HIM??? getting all the members of the bloomic server to participate, as you sing his praises? good at singing or not he is so choked up in giggly, hands over face ugly bawling

lighting the unity candle with him is a whole ordeal, neither of you can stay still long enough to keep the flame steady, almost lighting the tablecloth on fire

him holding you as close as you can fit against him?? teary eyed all over again because wow, he cant believe that you really wanted to marry him??

post first dance, as the night wanes, hiding behind the couples table, on the floor, in his arms??? as he feeds u mango sticky rice and vice versa???

sayin sum cheesy shit like ("oops i missed a spot, hold still love") before leaning in for a kiss??? not realizing the photographer AND videograper saw this and got it all in 4k??

the discord prompts that inspired me, thank u i luv u all(real)

[iambicpentameterhamster]

Six of crows brainrot part 2- SOC ships as Taylor swift songs

(Im bored and tired and soc brainrot is all i can manage)

Kanej from Inej's POV:

"Stood on the cliffside screaming give me a reason

Your faithless love's the only hoax i believe in."

Kanej from Kaz's POV:

"For you i would fall from grace

Just to touch your face

If you walk away

I'll beg you on my knees to stay."

Hes a bit obsessed 😭 he once was poison ivy but he would be Inej's daisy...

Wesper from Jesper's POV:

THIS SONG IS SO WESPER CODED

"Pushed from the precipice

Clung to the nearest lips

Long story short, it was the wrong guy

Now I'm all about you"

The accidental kiss we don't talk about...

"When I dropped my sword

I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door

And we live in peace

But if someone comes at us

This time, I'm ready"

Their happy ending 😭🫶

The bridge is super Jesper:

"Past me

I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things

Your nemeses

Will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing

And he's passing by

Rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky

And he feels like home

If the shoe fits, walk in it everywhere you go"

And finally:

"No more keepin' score now

I just keep you warm"

I rest my case... go and listen to it properly if you disagree

Wesper from Wylan's POV:

"Maybe i've stormed out of every single room in this town

Throw out our coats and our daggers because its morning now

Its brighter now

Now i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw you

I dont wanna think of anything else now that i thought of you"

Wylan and Jesper make each other better ppl and open each other's eyes, thats the beauty of the ship and the song reflects that 🫶 also it took them two flipping books and load of emotional turmoil to get together so they deserve that satisfying ending 😭

Wesper from Kuwei's POV (im sorry, i had to)

Helnik from Matthias POV:

Forbidden love...

Helnik from Ninas POV:

The albatross is ab everyone warning the guy about the woman being dangerous/bad when shes actually what saves him, so YEAH PRETTY ACCURATE (They're so ttpd coded)

Thanks for reading my nonsense 🤩

[wttcsms]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ WIP tag game! ɞ˚‧｡⋆

❀ tagged by @mangostarjam, my dearly beloved fuji

rules > make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous > let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! > tag others to continue the game

tagging: everyone!!! ii don't have many writer friends, but if you write, pls tag me <3 i will be participating & would love to get to know any more writer blogs

i have over 100 drafts, so here are just the most recent ones LOL. please feel free to ask about any of them <3 it might actually get me to finish them!!

daylight iii, 2 | colt grice midnight | oc x oc (LMAO, y'all didn't know i had this range, did you) no more keepin' score (now i just keep you warm) | eita otoya alone together [one] | rin itoshi it always leads to you [one] | sae itoshi now you hang from my lips like the gardens of babylon | simon 'ghost' riley (wow COD phase, talk abt a throwback) my heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue | jean kirstein pyrrhic [one] | tooru oikawa burnout season | michael kaiser brace for impact | keiji akaashi balancing act ii | satoru gojo if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) THREE | yoichi isagi and if i had the cure (i'd save you first) | black noir losing all my innocence in the backseat | sae itoshi (READER IS SHIDOU'S SISTER, which i find funny) fit for a king | shoei barou when he sees me (i like him and he knows it) | gojohime (yes, i do write ship fic LOL) to the victor belong the spoils | naoya zenin angel of the morning | atsumu miya an indentation in the shape of you | tobio kageyama always gonna be you | yoichi isagi (from a request!) making things up as we go | osamu miya devil on my shoulder tellin' me i'll die soon (i don't really want that to impact you) | atsumu miya with a comma after dearest | megumi fushiguro my heart surrenders | kiyoomi sakusa (from a request!) talking rings and talking cradles | rensuke kunigami (from a request!) atsumu miya's guide to escaping the friend zone | atsumu miya and when i was shipwrecked (i thought of you) | michael kaiser two weeks notice | reo mikage (from a request!) easy like sunday morning | colt grice (from a request!) sweet nothing | rin itoshi let the light in | rin itoshi (from a request!) little dancer | childe lessons in jealousy | naoya zenin (from a request!) borderline | jin kiyora (from a request!) take my hand (take my whole life too) | yoichi isagi (from a request! SO EXCITED, ONE OF MY FAVES SENT THIS TO ME AND ASKED FOR YAN ISAGI, ILY FOR THIS) where's the trophy? (he just comes running over to me!) | rintarou suna (from a request!) repeat offender | hiromi higuruma levi x petra | ...the wip title gave away who the fic was for, doesn't it all that we see or seem | kento nanami it seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye | kento nanami but not kiss | kento nanami socialite x kita | shinsuke kita get him back! | tetsurou kuroo if not you, then who? | tooru oikawa (from a request!) contractually yours [one] | satoru gojo i think i wanna marry you! | bllk boys headcanons (from a request!) it's so sweet knowing that you love me | ryusei shidou (from a request!) half agony, half hope | tom riddle (guys... it was a phase... that lasted for years... and still a phase i am in, unfortunately enough)

+ there's more, i'm just going insane scrolling through my drafts. will rb whenever i add more <3

[taylorswifttournament]

Lyrics under the cut

Last Kiss

So I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe And I'll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are Hope it's nice where you are

long story short

No more keepin' score now I just keep you warm No more tug of war now I just know there's more No more keepin' score now I just keep you warm (keep you warm) And my waves meet your shore Ever and evermore

[otterfool]

I can't find a beatles page to send this ask to so i'm gonna write it here for the 4 people that follow me cause of beatles related stuff

Couple of days ago i started reading "All About Love" by bell hooks and, in there, there's this definition of love

The will to extend one's self for the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth

When i saw this definition my mind flew to the beatles and now im gonna poorly explain why

i'd say this definition sticks to the beatles in the way the 4 of them percieved THE BEATLES as it's own thing. i also see diffrent periods and diffrent ways this love for THE BEATLES was present and given from the 4 to the band/concept

I clearly see in the Moptop years this action of "excenting one self" for the growth of THE BEATLES. It's not strange that it's from this period that the "4 headed monster" analogy comes from. The first dissillusioment arrives around 64/65 with the touring first and then with the use of LSD. i'd say the use of the drug made the 4 (John and George first) "fall into themselves" as in realizing that they're singular individuals and not just a part of this bigger concept. It's from this period (from BEATLES FOR SALE) that we see the 4, especially John, look more into themselves to write songs

The psychedelic period (from 65 to 67) i'd say its the moment where there's a balance between the 4 and THE BEATLES. The cooncept is still up there, still getting love from the 4 but the 4 are starting to love themselves too: George dives fully in his interest about Indian music and culture, Paul writes scores for movies, John is in a movie, Ringo idk much sorry

WIth the trip in india i think what happend in 64/65 happens again. imo, the combination of meditaion and being away from their home country, made so that there was a break between the 4 and THE BEATLES. imo george and john after the trip, wanted to switch the "flow of love" from THE BEATLES to the individual parts. George wants to be recognized as an established songwriter and an equal to J&P, John wants to have (again imo) Paul's love directed to him and not "the concept". That's why we have the infamous tense relations goin on from now till the end of the band between Paul and George+John. The latter 2 want to change the flow of love, while Paul is still very much keepin that attention and love flowing to the THE BEATLES

I talk about love here cause i feel that's what i feel the 4 felt for THE BEATLES throughout the years. The change is when (at least) 2 of the 4 want to have some of that love that was just given to the concept, for themselves too (rightfully so id say)

The end of the band wasn't the end of THE BEATLES and the 4 reacted in diffrent ways to this breakup: John was super bitter about it in the early 70, Paul wouldn't play a single Beatles' song till 75, George (even toh he mentioned the band in Living in The Material World + writing a full song about the band in the 80s) distances himself too from it and Ringo says he was angry for years cause of the brake up (i just googled this so dont take my words as gold)

thats it honestly...dont have much else to say. Only thing u can walk away after reading this is that i have too much free time in my hands

[taylor-swift-bracket]

Battle of the Bridges!

cowboy like me

And the skeletons in both our closets

Plotted hard to mess this up

And the old men that I've swindled

Really did believe I was the one

And the ladies lunchin' have their stories about

When you passed through town

Oh, but that was all before I locked it down

long story short

No more keepin' score

Now I just keep you warm (Keep you warm)

No more tug of war

Now I just know there's more (Know there's more)

No more keepin' score

Now I just keep you warm (Keep you warm)

And my waves meet your shore

Ever and evermore

🌁Please reblog!🌁

[darkmatternova]

No more keepin' score now

I just keep you warm,

No more tug of war now

I just know there's more….

[jolalibrary]

I am excited for ghost and helen car ride 👀 we need more sass and snark hehe

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x F!Reader (Helen!Reader)

an: just a little something for a Saturday 🚘

He doesn’t elaborate on why he’s here instead of Soap, not when he loads the car, not even when the tyres hit the open road.

No explanation provided an hour in or after your two’s pit-stop-fuck. It niggled, tightened in the back of your mind that he was keeping things from you that he could tell you. Something he promised he’d never to do.

But then, you equally had promised not to put yourself in danger, and here you were accepting a mission not necessary for a medic.

You had ways of pulling information from Ghost, and even ways of retrieving it from Simon.

Both begin in the same way, following a similar pattern: indifference. You lull him into believing telling you would be better than whatever the fuck you’re doing. A bribe, an exchange.

Your chosen play was to keep messing with the radio volume and station until it wound him up. Watching his eyes dart in your direction, even if you never met them. His hips shifted periodically, making your eyes stare at the thighs you’d between your own only hours ago.

That was his play—his line of defence: his ridiculous body and his ridiculous way of knowing every inch of yours.

Except, he’d played his hand too soon. Your knickers are still in his pocket, and his cum is still very much inside of you. So, you turned the volume up another two notches, wondering how tight his jaw was under the thin fabric on his face.

You can’t assume you’re getting to him.

That’s how you fail. But, the volume is piercing your ears, so you have to wonder if it is for him. The songs neither of you know blaring, filling the small space with sounds both irritating to you, and him.

So, naturally, you turn it up again. Almost pulling your hand back when his wraps around yours, gripping it with enough purpose to tell you you’re getting to him—but not enough to hurt.

“You not like that song?”

“Enough, Helen. For fuck sake.”

You grin, keeping score as the sun sets. The ambient temperature lessens as the breezes rushes through both of your open windows. Allowing clothes to fall away from damp skin as the low light catches the metal in the car and the metal on his left hand—the evidence of your cover.

A story not far from the truth. One you’d supposed to be spinning with Soap, and not your actual lover.

Soap would also have been bare faced.

“I’d have been fine with Soap, if that’s what you were worried about.”

His hands tightens on the steering wheel. “Wasn’t worried.”

“And, as good as his singing is, it wouldn’t have swayed me from your broody nature. In case, you’re jealous that he’d get to spend two to three days with me.”

He shoots you a glare—eyes standing out due to the lack of paint around them. The same ones you see when he’s bare to you, all walls down, and willing to let you in.

Pieces of truth slide into place in front of your eyes, the puzzle almost readable—almost identifiable.

“How you going to be explain the balaclava, hubby?”

You watch for him tensing at the affectionate name. He doesn’t. If anything, he doesn’t react at all. Likely knowing it’s what you want—that right now the best the two of you have is fighting and fucking to make up for it.

He won’t tell you what’s wrong, and you’re already bored of him being difficult.

“Tell them I’m ugly. Warn ‘em I’m doing them a favour by keepin’ it on.”

You smirk, letting your head roll back on the seat as the breeze whips your hair around your neck. “Next to me, they won’t believe that.”

“Bit full of yourself, Helen.”

“If I remember, I’ma bit full of you.”

“Watch it.”

Snorting, you roll your head to look at him. “Or what? You’ll pull over and stuff more of yourself in me… cause I’ll tell you now, Simon. I’d like that too much for it to be a punishment.”

“You’re something else.”

“It’s why you married me, remember?”

“Engaged, Helen,” he snarls, and your eyes narrow at his side-profile and his tone.

Because you know that, know that the two of you haven’t quite crossed that line just yet. But for this… you’re married. A lie that you’ll need to spin when you reach the end of this particular half of the journey.

You almost saying that, it fermenting on the tip of your tongue.

But his hand takes yours again, clutching it, weaving his bare fingers in between yours. And you let the words die, wilt and fade. Beginning to maybe see what may have been bothering him.

Maybe.

[centralperkchenford]

I have a domestic prompt 🥰

Chenford + grocery shopping after Lucy moved into Tim’s house and they run into one of their exes

Half the time I’m trying to find a good title for the stories and trying not to use lyrics I have already used. Anyway, I used Ashley instead of Chris just because I always use Chris 🤣. Could totally do a Chris version though lmao.

Anyway I hope you like it!

Chenford + grocery shopping after Lucy moved into Tim’s house and they run into one of their exes

No more keepin' score now I just keep you warm (I’m all about you)

Tim pushes the grocery basket down the aisle, occasionally stopping to grab something. He’s just about to round the corner to the next aisle when Lucy is suddenly in front of him holding a handful of things he knows are not on the list.

“What is all that?” Tim asks her with raised eyebrows as she puts it in the cart. She shrugs her shoulders and then is next to him, looping her arm with his as they continue making their way down the aisle. Lucy had just moved into his house two days before and told was the first they both could go shopping. Tim had made a list of the essential items, and then given half of it to Lucy to divide and conquer.

“Snacks.” She says simply. Tim stares at her, he knows she likes to snack he would wake up in the middle of the night and find her gone from bed. And when he would go find her, she would be eating some kind of snack at her counter. He was used to it by now and if they ever stayed at his house he would make sure to stack up on all her favorites.

“Where are you going to keep all those?” Tim asks staring at all the extra stuff in the cart. Oreos, chips, cheezits, crackers, gushers.

“The pantry. The cabinets. Maybe under the sink since I can’t reach any of the high cabinets.” She answers. Tim pauses to look at her and he can’t help but give her an amused smile.

“Under the sink Luce?” He asks shaking his head incredulously. “Look you can keep them wherever—”

“Tim?” A voice says in front of them and both Tim and Lucy look up to see Ashley. She looks the same and she’s looking between the both of them. Tim’s eyes widen slightly, he hasn’t seen Ashley since she broke up with him in the hospital almost a year and a half ago. Lucy steps closer to him as they continue to stare at the blonde.

“Hi Ashley.” Says Tim a bit stiffly. The thing is he never was broken up about Ashley breaking up with him. It was more of the reason why and how she did it that really hurt. And besides her breaking up with him just opened up the floodgate for his feelings for Lucy and well.. it all worked out. He was happier than he had ever been.

“This is so funny.” Says Ashley enthusiastically. “I was just thinking of calling you. I have missed you.”

Tim feels Lucy stiffen besides him and wounds his arm around her waist. A reassuring touch that says. I’m yours. I’m with you.

Tim smiles at her albeit a little stiffly and he’s not sure what to say but like always Ashley dominates the conversation. Her eyes go to Lucy briefly and then they are back on Tim. “So how have you been?” She asks.

“Great.” He says. He rubs soothing circles on Lucy’s back. And he feels her relaxing under his touch.

Ashley frowns slightly at his one word answer but continues to talk. “Are you still a cop?”

Tim blinks at her a little confused because yes he is but he didn’t understand why that mattered to her, it was the whole reason she broke up with him.

“He’s actually in metro now.” Pipes up Lucy from beside him. “He’s a sergeant and he’s amazing.”

Tim taps her lower back once to show his appreciation. She looks up at him with a soft smile on her face. He will never get tired of that look because it really was reserved for him. He never had anyone look at him like that.

“Oh.” Says Ashley glancing at Lucy curiously. “Why the change?”

“I couldn’t be in her chain of command after we got together.” Tim replies and he continues to run circles on her back. It was as much for her as it was for him.

“Together?” Ashley says. “So I broke up with you and you jump into bed with her?”

Tim rolls his eyes at her, “Not exactly but what did you expect me to do Ashley wait for you? You broke up with me when I couldn’t move. In the hospital.” He says a bit angrily. Lucy makes a noise beside him and shit she never knew when or how Ashley broke up with him.

Ashley bites her lip and then pouts at Tim making her look like a cartoon character that didn’t get their way.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t want to drag it on.” She says. “It wasn’t my best moment. But—”

“You didn’t want to drag it on?” Lucy snaps at her. “He had just come out of spinal surgery you couldn’t of waited until he wasn’t laying flat on his back?”

Ashley rolls her eyes at her. “Get off your high horse Lucy. I know you had a thing for him when we were together. And I’m not surprised you managed to make him to date you. You are—” She says but Tim cuts her off, he has had enough. Lucy reels back a little at her words. Tim tightens his hold on her.

“She didn’t make me do anything. This was a mutual decision between the both of us. Something I know you aren’t familiar with. But we got together because we wanted to, we do things together.” Tim snaps at her. “Don’t you dare insult her just because you are bitter that I am with her. And not you.”

Ashley bites her lip and nods. “Well good luck to you both.” She pauses and looks at Tim straight in the eyes. “It was always her huh? I was never going to be good enough for you because it was always her.” She says and Tim nods realizing she’s right. It was always going to be Lucy for him. She nods and then walks passed them, her shoulders slumping a little as she does. Tim could care less because now he’s turning to Lucy.

“Hi.” He says softly kissing her forehead. “Are you okay?” Lucy steps away from him and Tim lets his arms fall awkwardly to his sides. He clenches his fists from reaching out for her.

“Did sh-she really break up with you when you were in the hospital bed?” She asks quietly. Tim sighs and brings her towards him. The realization hitting him that she’s more concerned that he was dumped while in the hospital than what Ashley said about her.

“Yes, but it’s okay.” He says. “It hurt more than I want to admit but it’s okay. It all worked out,

I’m happy and she’s…whatever she is.”

Lucy sighs and lays her head on his chest. “I’m sorry. I—I can’t believe someone would be that clueless.”

Tim shrugs kissing the top of her head. “It’s over baby. Ashley hasn’t been on my mind since that day.”

“And who has?” She asks teasingly. Tim grins at her smirking. God he loves her.

“Kojo.” He says and she hits his chest before standing up to kiss him grinning as she does.

“You love me.” She says and he tilts his head at her curiously.

“I do. But why are you telling me this?” He asks and she grins and motions to the pile of snacks in the cart.

“Before Ashley interrupted us, you were saying I could keep them wherever I wanted.” She says but Tim just stares at her confused not sure where she was going with this.

Lucy huffs out a amused laugh. “You didn’t even argue with me about them Tim. Normally you would tell me to put some of them back but you didn’t even hesitate or argue you were just going to tell me to put them wherever.”

Tim nods a understanding smile spreading across his face. “Yes. Of course. Lucy it’s not just my house anymore it’s yours. You can keep your snacks wherever you want.. within reason of course.” He says and Lucy grins at him, a happy smile spreading across her face that had him completely forgetting Ashley and her senseless words.

“There’s the man I love. I thought you were going a little too soft on me Bradford.” She teases him. He scoffs at her words, he is not soft.

They continue to move down the aisle realizing they had just been standing there for quite awhile.

“I’m not soft.” He tells her firmly. She rolls her eyes at him and stops again. And he realizes they are in the cereal aisle. He’s not even sure how they got here they just seemed to be walking aimlessly.

“You are soft babe. It’s just for me but you are soft.” She grabs a box of cheerios and tosses them in the cart. “And that’s okay. I know I get that side of you all to myself.”

Tim wants to roll his eyes and deny it but he doesn’t because he knows she’s right. He has always had a soft place for Lucy, and he knows he always will.

“You have all of me Luce.” He says quietly. “Every single part.” It’s funny because with Ashley, because he just did what she wanted to do. She never saw his true side, not like Lucy has seen since the beginning. He had to hide part of himself from Ashley but he has to or will ever have to hide himself from Lucy. She accepts him just the way he is.

“Are you ready to go?” She asks suddenly. He looks in the basket and realizes they have most of the essentials. He looks back at Lucy who is still smiling at him.

“Yeah baby. Let’s go home.” He says and she laughs happily as she kisses him on the cheek.

He watches her as she unloads the groceries at the checkout. He realizes he doesn’t need to go home when he’s with Lucy. Because she is his home. And if he’s being completely honest she has been for awhile. It just has took them awhile to get there.

To home

To being exactly where they were meant to be.

[ohgaylor]

afterglow 🤝 hoax 🤝 the great war 🤝 death by a thousand cuts 🤝 long story short (parallels / analyses)

always remember // flashbacks waking me up // flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur // I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me

my knuckles were bruised like violets, sucker punching walls // fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves // don't want no other shade of blue but you // I blew things out of proportion, now you're blue, put you in jail for something you didn’t do // and maybe it's the past that's talking, screaming from the crypt telling me to punish you for things you never did, so I justified it

I lived like an island, punished you with silence // cursed you as I sleep-talked, spineless in my tomb of silence // misery like the war of words I shouted in my sleep // my sleepless night, my winless fight

somewhere in the haze, got a sense I'd been betrayed // my best laid plan, your sleight of hand // paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans // your finger on my hairpin triggers // my twisted knife // you knew the password so I let you in the door // my only one, my smoking gun, my eclipsed sun, this has broken me down

tore your banners down, took the battle underground // I look through the windows of this love, even though we boarded them up // I drew curtains closed, drank my poison all alone // chandelier's still flickering here 'cause I can't pretend it's okay when it's not

and what once was ours is no one's now I see you everywhere, the only thing we share is this small town // you know I left a part of me back in New York // my kingdom come undone // our country, guess it was a lawless land

stood on the cliffside screaming, "give me a reason" // long story short, it was a bad time, pushed from the precipice, climbed right back up the cliff

I don’t wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you // that was the night I nearly lost you, I really thought I'd lost you // this has frozen my ground // soldier down on that icy ground, looked up at me with honor and truth, broken and blue, so I called off the troops // thought I had reason to attack, but no // when I dropped my sword, I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door

the worst was over, my hand was the one you reached for all throughout the great war // your faithless love's the only hoax I believe in // no more keepin' score, now I just keep you warm // we're burned for better // I am ash from your fire // always remember the burning embers

no more tug of war, now I just know there's more // this ultraviolet morning light below tells me this love is worth the fight // and we will never go back to that bloodshed, crimson clover // I vowed I would always be yours ‘cause we survived the Great War // and we live in peace, but if someone comes at us, this time, I'm ready

[piningbuddies]

06 + buddie 👀

6. No more keepin' score now, I just keep you

The first time he says it, it's a challenge. They're standing in Buck's kitchen under low light, exchanging long overdue apologies. Then Buck raises a brow, and somehow the temperature shoots up by a thousand degrees. Buck stalks towards him, hand on his belt buckle as he smirks around you wanna go for the title? It sparks something deep in Eddie's gut, and he has to look away before he ignites.

The next time he says it, it's teasing. They're at the bar across the street from the firehouse, exchanging war stories (both literal and metaphorical). Somehow, over the course of the night, they've ended up pressed against eachother in the booth, Buck's arm slung behind Eddie's shoulders and his hand brushing the back of his neck every so often, setting every one of Eddie's nerve endings on fire. Eddie takes another swig from his beer as Buck finishes telling the table a very elaborated on version of their poker game. Eddie snorts, catching Buck's attention. Buck's smirk turns dangerous, and a million and one alarm bells start to ring inside Eddie's head. He leans in, lips brushing Eddie's ear as he whispers, you wanna go for the title, Diaz? And, well, there's never been a challenge Eddie hasn't risen to.

The third time he says it is whispered into the back of Eddie's neck the next morning. Eddie stirs awake to gentle kisses being pressed on every inch of bare skin and sighs contentedly. "I could get used to this."

Buck chuckles, a low, husky thing that sends a shiver down Eddie's spine. "Me too, honestly."

Eddie rolls onto his back to face Buck then, grinning up at him. "Although, I wouldn't mind a repeat performance of last night either."

"Oh?" Buck grins salaciously, leaning down to press a long kiss to Eddie's lips that has him melting into the bed. "I suppose if I'm the one doing all the hard work..."

Eddie swats at him, fighting to keep the smile off of his face. "Excuse me? I think I...contributed plenty, thank you very much!"

Buck's smirk widens, his eyes raking up and down Eddie's body in a way that threatens to consume him whole. "Oh yeah? You want a rematch?"

"No."

Buck pauses then, his nose scrunching slightly in a way that has Eddie's heart twisting inside his chest. "No?"

Eddie shakes his head, smiling up at Buck warmly as he shrugs his shoulders slightly. "I'm kinda over the whole competition of it all."

"Oh." Buck says, his tone giving nothing away. "So...you don't want to do this again?"

"No! I do!" Eddie says hurriedly, cupping Buck's face in both of his hands. "I just — I'm done keeping score, I think. I just — I just wanna keep you...if that's okay."

The smile that overcomes Buck's face is breathtaking, and it catches, Eddie smiling right back at him. Buck leans down to press a deliberate, slow kiss to Eddie's lips, and he feels like he can breathe for the first time in a long time.

He always did say Buck was the best partner he ever had.

taylor swift 'i love yous'

[perspectivestarters]

Perspective's Sentence Starters; The Great Impersonator (Part I)

ONLY LIVING GIRL IN LA

I'm the only one who sees.

I wake up every day in some new kind of suffering.

I've never known a day of peace.

Do you think they'd laugh at how I die?

The ceremony's small inside.

I don't know if I could sell out my own funeral.

It was never mine.

I left my wallet on the train.

I was too soft for this world.

They'd be right.

It shouldn't kill me every day.

I don't know what I did to have this fate.

I can't even run from what I know.

I'm not lucky.

I know I wasn’t chosen

The world keeps spinnin' without me.

I told my mother I would die by twenty-seven.

This thing I love has grown demanding and obsessive.

It wants more than I can give.

I wake up every day and wish that I was different.

EGO

I'm caught up in the everyday trend.

Think I'm better off dead.

Been a few months since I crossed over state lines.

Feel so low but I'm high at the same time.

I'm nervous what you'll think of me now.

I'm hoping that someone comes around.

I think that I should try to kill my ego.

If I don't, my ego might kill me.

I'm acting like a fucking baby.

I'm really not as happy as I seem.

Still a little kid that can't make friends.

I've been having bad dreams my career could end.

I slip up when I should've played pretend.

I wanna be cool, I don't wanna be pretty.

You're too nice to run this town.

Nothing's as it seems.

I don't like the lie I'm living.

I'm way too nice and too forgiving.

I wanna go back to the beginning.

It's all done now, who am I kidding?

I'm doing way worse than I'm admitting

I'm really not that happy being me.

DOG YEARS

They said I have a universal blood type.

I can give to anyone in need.

I'm trying to be positive but oh, it's really hard.

I'm a loner.

I'm a loser.

Can I come inside?

Can we go for a ride?

You know, I'm such a sweet girl, but I can really bite.

See you soon and we can race.

You know a mercy kill is what I seek.

I didn't ask to live, but dying's up to me.

Tell the three people who asked that I am in a better place.

I'm not old, but I am tired.

I'm not strong, I'm very weak.

I'm not here, I'm somewhere else.

I have seen enough.

I've seen it all.

LETTER TO GOD (1974)

Did you like how that sounded?

Did you just write that or was that the same one?

Did he have a mom and dad and do they argue just like mine?

Did he have a little brother that annoyed him all the time?

Did he wanna be a grown up?

You're gonna need to come in on that first part.

Did he wanna be a grown up?

When I was little, I was jealous, and I'd say a prayer at night.

I don't wanna hurt so get it over with quick.

I wanna be loved.

I don't wanna be somebody that they wanna get rid of.

PANIC ATTACK

My body carries sadness that my brain cannot yet see.

Both my shoulders have been burdened by the weight of my mistakes.

Every time you lean in closer, both my knees can't help but shake.

I think you're a danger to my health, or so it seems.

Is it love or a panic attack?

Is a heavy heart too much to hold?

It's late, so I'm taking you home.

Would you mind if I asked you on the phone?

I had to call the doctor.

I tripped when we went walking and I felt it in my spleen.

You make me fucking nervous and I don't know what it all means.

My spirit has been broken.

My optimism's getting sore.

I would love to love you, but my body's keepin' score.

I don't know if I can see you anymore.

THE END

I don't like to complain, but I'm saying sorry.

When I met you, I thought I was damaged goods.

Could you hold me in the dark?

Would you like to stay a while?

Would you leave when it gets hard?

We wrestled in the mud.

I told him he could stay right where he stood.

I don't know if he should.

The joke was always mine.

I BELIEVE IN MAGIC

He used to look just like his dad, but right now he looks just like me.

I wonder if the world will treat him any better than it treated me.

I tried to teach him every day that nothing good is free, but oh, it should be.

Please tell the world I have to grow before I go.

I just wanted you to know.

I believe in magic.

I believe in sin.

I still believe in Heaven, if they'll never let me in.

I think I might start tryin' because I haven't been.

It's contagious and you'll catch it like a cold.

She won't admit it, but it's something that I know.

Every year that passes for me passes her a hundredfold.

That alliance didn't save me from her fate.

Now I tell her to her face.

LETTER TO GOD (1983)

I left home and moved to *Place*.

I'm plannin' my estate.

I don't wanna blame the child, but I have to speculate.

This could all just be an answer to thosе prayers that came delayed.

I never would have said it if I knew I'd have to wait.

Please, God, I don't wanna be sick

Don't wanna be somebody that you're tryna get rid of.

HOMETOWN

So I'm playin' the drums, right?

We would smoke out in the parkin' lot behind convenience shops.

I bought a couple of grams of weed off him, but so did all the cops.

In our heads, we picked a husband from the hundred men we knew.

Therе ain't a reason on this earth I'd go back to my hometown.

You know, I never felt like anyone.

I was a paradoxal' lie.

I didn't think that I was special.

I was too afraid to die.

The American dream means stayin' young forever.

Years will pass since science class and I might forget your name.

When the crow's feet come, the kingdom come.

Well, you'll always look the same

[oh-my-wolfstar]

Taylor Swift Wolfstar songs day 37

Today’s song will be Long Story Short from evermore. It’s pov Sirius post Azkaban but it is happier and more hopeful, it’s what would have happened if they survived through the war.

Fatefully I tried to pick my battles 'til the battle picked me Misery Like the war of words I shouted in my sleep

Sirius tried not to fight with Remus, he tried to pick his battles but how could he when his life had become a war zone. He argued with himself all the time, a mental war of grief and suspicion raging inside, fed by the world he lived in.

And you passed right by I was in the alley, surrounded on all sides The knife cuts both ways If the shoe fits, walk in it 'til your high heels break

Remus never truly saw what was happening to Sirius, and Sirius knows. He never knew how he ended up in the right place at the wrong time. But it hurt them both just the same, the way the world forced Sirius to be something he never was and never would be.

Actually I always felt I must look better in the rear view Missing me At the golden gates they once held the keys to

Sirius always felt that everyone liked him better when he was gone, he wondered if Remus ever realized what they had till it was taken away. When I dropped my sword I threw it in the bushes and knocked on your door And we live in peace But if someone comes at us This time, I'm ready

But when Sirius gave up the war he had never stopped fighting he ran to Remus. He ended the years of massacring himself to be happy, to believe he deserved that at least. And this time he won’t let war tear them apart.

No more keepin' score now I just keep you warm No more tug of war now I just know there's more

Sirius is done second guessing the people he loves, he’s done letting the world dictate his heart. Now he only wants to be with Remus, because he knows there more in love than there will ever be in war.

Now I'm all about you I'm all about you, ah Yeah, yeah I'm all about you

Now Sirius is all in, he’s done not trusting anyone. Now he’s going to trust Remus and the love they have with all his heart.

I wanna tell you not to get lost in these petty things Your nemeses Will defeat themselves before you get the chance to swing

Sirius wants to tell Remus to let the petty fights go because the war will end with or without them. They will aid the effort but they will no longer let it consume them.

And I fell from the pedestal Right down the rabbit hole Long story short, it was a bad time Pushed from the precipice Climbed right back up the cliff Long story short, I survived

And Sirius knows why they shouldn’t become the war they fight. He knows because he paid the price, lost twelve years of his life and was marked a traitor. He spent his youth fighting, he lost his youth to Azkaban. And in there he lost everything, bushed to the brink of madness. But he pulled himself back together, mended his broken soul and learned to love without fight. He came back from hell and went to his love; because long story short he survived.

actually, I’ve been having fun exploring life after Azkaban and during the second Wizard war, it’s so interesting to think about all the things that Sirius lost, and the way he was able to come back. I think long story short sums that up perfectly.