#was listening in on a conversation between my younger brother and his friend

[scratxhed-cd]

ah… I shouldve known better :/

[mywritersmind]

NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.4

christmas special

part one - part two - part three

summary : You’re not a damsel, just someone who happens to enjoy the help of an attractive man once and a while. This goes down the drain as soon as he refuses to kill a spider for you. Christmas is approaching and Lando is inching closer and closer to the nice list, only if he stops mentioning that kiss.

og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : kissing! dual pov! mentions of sexual content!

words : 4157

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I thought that I wouldn’t be able to sleep. My mind was already racing after kissing Lando and my thoughts always take over when I'm in my bed.

I couldn’t stop thinking about his lips on mine while I brushed my teeth. Or his hands under my shirt while I braided my hair. But the second I slipped under the covers, honestly wanting to over analyze the moment, I fell asleep.

There was one catch though. A glaring and irritatingly obvious catch.

I dreamt about him.

It wasn’t horny or scary, it was just… him. We sat on the couch and watched a movie. I don’t remember what he was saying, just remember how he looked in the firelight.

I woke up actually sad that it was over.

⋆༺

I barely talk to Lando in the morning, there’s definitely no time for any sort of conversation revolving around our secretive kisses.

Do I even want to talk to him about it?

Yes and No. I need to understand what it was but I’d also like to not embarrass myself and become another one of his one night things.

And then there’s Max and our little friends christmas. P definitely is sending me suspicious looks when I drag her to sit with me in the back seat instead of Lando.

Lando and Max sing christmas songs the whole way to the rink. Yes, you heard that right.

The rink.

It’s outside and I've never been more bundled. In a thick pink scarf and puffer jacket, I struggle to get my ice skates on. Lando sits next to me, hitting my arm as he tightens his skates, gripping the laces with how ungloved fingers.

He ties his into little bows as he says, “Need help, Sunshine?” I blink, for some reason, the nickname catches me off guard.

Max and P are already taking photos together as I nod, not even saying anything before he kneels in front of me, “I’m not some damsel in distress, you know.” I say as he takes my foot between his knees.

His curls are refreshed, those green eyes glancing up at me as a small smirk tugs at his lips, “I’m aware. Are you worried I think that?”

He tightens the laces, “I just want you to know I can do things for myself.” Even with snowboarding, he had to carry me. It makes me feel helpless even if he does look good helping me.

“I know you can, Sunny, trust me.” He moves to my other skate, “You kissed me all by yourself last night.” He says it in a low, quiet voice. Tieing off my skates and tapping my knee.

He's not smirking anymore, just looking at my partially shocked face. Lando stands, walking away as I wobble on my feet to get to the ice.

Contrary to my walking on the ground skate skills, I’m great at skating on actual ice. I used to skate when I was younger, Max had his one thing with karting and I wanted that.

For me, It wasn’t skating. But I did find a certain love for the cold sport.

Lando however, is not multi talented when it comes to sports. He grips onto the side rain as Max and P hold hands next to him.

I snap a picture of him where he looks utterly distressed. He frowns at me laughing at him, P joining, “Lan, we should get you one of those crutch things.”

His jaw drops at the implication just as a kid skates by, holding the plastic helper. “Help me out here.” Lando reaches for Max’s arm but my brother pulls it away quickly.

“You’re on your own for this one, bud.” He leaves as P starts speeding up. The rink isn’t too crowded which is good especially for the time of year.

Lando looks at me, uncomfortable and annoyed at the kid behind him who yells at him to hurry up, “Fuck no.” I laugh and start skating backwards, “It’s not that hard.”

He chuckles a bit, “That’s what she said.”

I frown and start to leave but am abruptly pulled back by Lando’s hand on my arm. He’s let go of the side and is grabbing my arm with impressive strength.

I roll my eyes and move his hands to mine, turning around so I can face him. It’s taking everything in me now to laugh, he’s hunched over in a dior jacket as his ‘4’ necklace dangles. “Look at me, Norris.”

He looks up hesitantly, “Stand up straight.”

“Yes Ma’am.” He winks and I almost let him go but he holds on tighter, his rings indenting into my gloves.

His posture improves as Max and P pass us, but I don’t even think he sees them because his eyes are on me.

He laughs a bit at the kid who zooms past us, and starts getting the hang of it more, “There you go…” His smile widens as we start up faster, then promptly trips.

“I’m feeling humbled.”

I laugh, “You should be. You’re shit at this.” He pulls me closer and I can’t if it’s on purpose or because he just tried to speed up.

Either way, he’s looking down at me and dropping one of my hands so we both face the same way. I go to pull my hand away but his grip tightens.

“You’re not gonna fall on your face.”

“I’m gonna fall on my face.” he says immediately as I laugh a bit and look away. “I need my face!”

“Right… brings in the big bucks at work.” Lando tugs me closer and smirks down at me.

“Are you… flirting with me?”

I bite my lip, shaking my head, “Keep dreaming.”

“Oh I had a great dream last night!” He says, far too chipper for me to fall for his words. “After a quick cold shower, I fell right to sleep.”

I roll my eyes at his words, “Now you’re just boosting my ego, Norris.”

“C’mon, Sunshine. You saw me last night. That fucking movie was torture.” I shiver at the icy air even though my legs are warming up from the workout.

“I thought it was good.” I shrug.

“Yeah well you didn’t have a raging hard-” Max and P catch up to us then and Lando switches his speech seamlessly, “Hard! This is so hard!”

P giggles and takes my other hand so we’re in a row now, the boys on either side of us. I send Lando a look but he doesn’t look at all guilty, just smirking innocently.

Pietra and I leave the boys, allowing me to speed up and do some rounds without my deadweight that is Lando. “Did something happen?” P asks as I dodge a man.

“Lando almost fell?”

“No.” She laughs, “I mean between you two…” oh shit. “I mean, did you take my advice?”

Translation : Did I fuck Lando Norris.

“No!” I say quickly, “I’m not going to either.”

We kissed. We kissed. We kissed.

“Ugh!” P groans as we pass them again, “Just a little holiday fling!”

I shake my head once again, pretending like the best kiss I've ever experienced didn't happen at all. “We just argued all though the movie, he stole my popcorn.”

“You two were pretty quiet when we got home.”

I sigh, “I’m sorry that we didn’t go at it, P!” We did. We would have probably gone further if it wasn’t for her and Max.

I’m soon taken down by my previous weight. Lando literally lands on top of me, sideways, and groaning. I rest my head against the ice, accepting defeat at this point.

“You’re a horrible teacher.” Lando says as he lifts himself off me, kneeling next to me as I sit up on my elbows.

“Excuse you!” I scoff and stand, looking down at him, “You’re a bad student.”

He's smiling still, even as I place my hands on my hips, “Maybe skating really isn’t my thing.” No shit.

I help him up anyway, only because I'm genuinely scared he will claw up my body if I don’t. His hand is warm even against my glove.

He moves it to my hair, smoothing it down a bit and brushing some ice off. It’s odd and so very gentle, “You’re blushing.” He says it almost as a whisper.

“I’m cold.” Is all I say in response, skating off and resting my hands on my hot cheeks.

⋆༺

Our day goes by incredibly fast. After a movie and some take out, we’re all slumped on the couch.

“Max was totally in love with you after the first date!” I laugh, playing with my sweats waistband.

P laughs with me as Max gets red, “It’s not a bad thing to understand your feelings!”

“No, just a bit creepy.” Lando says, his arms stretched around the couch.

“Oh right, Mr ‘I don’t date’!” Max retaliates, putting his arm around P, “When was the last time you kissed a girl that you actually liked!?”

My face goes hot while I reposition myself and laugh with Max and P. I move off the couch and sit next to the fire, doing anything to avoid eye contact with Lando.

He looks like he wants to spill everything, but then remembers his audience and just shrugs, “None of your business, Mate.”

“We should set you up!” P hits Max’s chest repeatedly in excitement as he coughs, “We know someone!”

Max raises a brow, “We do?”

P just rolls her eyes, “I do. I went to school with her, she’s an instagram model.” P starts to pull up her instagram on her phone when Lando eyes me, a bit scared.

“I’m okay, P. I like my life womanless right now, especially Instagram model-less.” I smile at his words and lay back on the carpet.

“I don’t know, I’d be fun seeing you actually fancy someone.” I say, hating the idea but liking the way Lando looks at me.

“Oh would it?” Lando deadpans.

Max pours more wine, ���What about you, Y/n? That asshole stuck on you still?”

I smirk a bit and shake my head, glancing at Lando quickly, “No… he stopped calling.”

“I smell a match making opportunity!” P starts.

I quickly shut this down, “I’m off men right now. I don’t want a boyfriend and even if I did, i’m all fucked up from my ex.”

P looks sad but I didn’t mean to bring down the mood! Max sighs, “I knew he sucked from the beginning! Just saying!”

Lando smiles, “You never like Y/n’s boyfriends.”

“This one was extra bad!” my brother whines, “But yeah, so what? You have horrible taste, Y/n!”

I scoff, sitting up, “I do not!”

“You definitely do!” Lando laughs along with my brother, “Remember when you went out with that guy Max HATED in highschool?” He’s laughing harder now as Max’s jaw drops.

“I forgot about him! Fuck, sis, you need to find someone actually good for you!”

Lando sits up, grinning at me, “Yeah like me!”

“Not like him!” Max says quickly, “You’ve got good friends though, Bob.” He’s smirking now, “A certain spaidnard?”

Lando doesn’t look like he finds this funny, “No.”

“I don’t know, I'm into older guys.” Lando looks genuinely horrified at my answer, “Actually fuck Carlos give me Lewis. I’m down to be his controversially young girlfriend any day.”

“Can you not drool over my coworkers!?” Lando stands, “I’m gonna grab some snacks.” He leaves and P practically catapults herself onto the floor.

She kicks her feet behind her, smiling at me, “So… Maybe I have someone else for Lando.”

I raise a brow, “No.”

Max looks at the two of us, “P if you set Lando and Y/n up i’ll-”

His girlfriend turns to him, eyeing the man, “You’ll what?”

Max laughs, actually laughs! “Nevermind. Y/n would never go for him.”

⋆༺

I’m all cozy in my bed when I feel something on my leg. I think it’s just a hair at first, until it starts moving up my leg.

Lando’s in my room in seconds, eyes wide and in only sweats once again. “Why the fuck are you screaming bloody murder!?”

My heart is hammering in my chest as I run over to the door, “There- fuck! A huge spider just crawled up my leg!”

He makes a disgusted face and backs up into his room, “No way.”

I see the thing on my bed still and hop back, pointing, “Lando!” I keep my voice down now because Max and P are definitely already sleeping, “Kill it!”

“No chance, Sunshine! You kill it!” He puts his hands up and I swear it’s just an excuse to remind me that he’s shirtless.

I cross my arms, “You’re the man!”

He scoffs, stepping closer to me so I have to look up, “You’re the feminist!”

I scowl and look back at my bed, “I’m not sleeping there.” I stare at my once comfortable bed with disgust, looking back at Lando who’s smirking. My face drops, “No.”

“If you want to take the cough P spilled wine on, be my guest.” He shrugs and moves back to his room, his bed is screaming to me, I swear!

I look back at mine room once again, grabbing my hoodie and pushing past him, “Hands to yourself.”

“No problem…” When I turn around, he’s staring at my ass.

He climbs into bed after pulling a shirt over his head. Very polite of the man I was on top of yesterday.

I try to sleep immediately but am stuck looking out the window that Lando keeps open. I can see the snow falling onto his balcony, his slides are outside and getting covered by the white powder.

Lando shifts next to me and I'm suddenly ultra aware of his warmth. I can hear his breathing and my heart starts beating faster. I hate him. I hate him for making me feel like this.

“You awake?” His voice scares me in the dark, shifting to my side to look at him. I can see him lightly in the shadows, the moon adding light to the room and letting me see a strip of his face.

He’s so close that I can see the faint scar on his nose. “Mhm.” I mumble.

“I can’t sleep.” He whispers, “I’m scared that there’s gonna be a spider.” I can’t help but laugh, covering my mouth as he smiles across from me.

“Remember that time…” I giggle, “That one halloween.”

His jaw drops a little, “Holy shit. I blocked it out of my memory!”

I roll my eyes, “You screamed like a little girl when that fake spider fell on your head.”

“Fell!?” He whisper yells, “You threw it at me!”

I shake my head, “You took half my candy. It’s called redemption.”

“I was trying to flirt with you.” He admits as I laugh a bit, “Shut up, I was fourteen!”

“Aw don’t be embarrassed.” I smile, “It’s cute.”

His groans and shoves his face into his pillow, mumbling, “You know what, sunshine? You still manage to make me blush the same as back then.”

I groan, sitting up and resting my head against the headboard, “Stop.”

He sits up with me, leaning back on his arms and looking at me, “Stop making me blush first.”

I shake my head, “It’s not my fault you l-” like me. He can’t like me. Fuck he cannot like me! My smile drops and I look down at the comforter.

“It’s not your fault I what?” His tongue darts over his lips, his eyes locked on mine. I shake my head slowly and he starts again, “What do you want for Christmas, Sunshine?”

I blink, “It’s in two days. You still haven’t gotten me a gift?”

His smile is back now, “Maybe. Maybe not. I still want to know what you actually want. Hey, if it’s me, I won’t protest.”

I bring my feet under me, getting the sudden urge to run my hands through his hair, “You're too cocky for your own good.”

“Getting kissed by a pretty girl does that to a person.” His voice is deeper, more tired. Which makes me more breathless.

His shirt is riding up a bit, the blanket and his sweats tugging down so I can see a sliver of his stomach. “You’re not gonna let that go, are you?”

“I’ll stop joking about it, if you want.” He shrugs, “I can’t promise I won’t stop thinking about it. Or you.”

I lean closer, “Were you born a flirt?”

He smiles, toothy and happy, “Yes. And you love it.”

I give in, just a bit, “Maybe.” I sigh, looking at Lando as his eyes pierce mine. Maybe I like it because I shouldn’t.

Maybe I like the idea that no one in this house knows I'm in his bed.

Maybe I like that he hasn’t tried to kiss me.

“I know what I want.” Lando swallows, leaning closer as he nods, “But I'm not waiting until christmas.”

Maybe I like him a bit more than I planned.

I can feel his breath, smell his shampoo, “I'm a very generous gift giver.” His eyes flick down to my lips as I don’t say anything, “Use your words, Sunshine.”

“Kiss me.” He leans in but I stop him, “But, Lando. I can’t- I want this to stay quiet. Just us, quiet.” He looks hurt for a second but nods.

“I can stay quiet.” He whispers, his lips an inch away from mine, “Can you?”

I gasp a bit when his lips lock over mine. His hand on my waist. He’s slow and sensual, his body pushing against mine with none of the pressure or nerves I've felt with other men.

I think a part of me was meant to kiss Lando.

He slips his hand under my shirt, mumbling through the kiss, “Tell me to stop and I will.”

I groan as he moves off my lips, kissing down my jaw and finding my neck, “Don’t.”

⋆༺

The next morning, I sit by the window of my room, reading with the door open. I have my headphones on and am so engrossed in my book that I don’t even realize Lando was watching me until Max’s footsteps heavily move across my room.

Lando watch’s his best friend join me while just slowly walking past, into his room. I hate this. I hate him.

My brother sits opposite of me, “Hi.”

“Hey?”

“How are you?” I raise a brow at my brothers words. He never is weird and casually like this and he can definitely see the confusion on my face. “Okay, I need to talk to you.”

“Go ahead…?” I close my book and watch him speak nervously. “Seriously, you’re freaking me out.”

“It’s nothing bad!” he says defensively, “It’s just…” He looks to the door and whispers, “I think Lando fancies you.” This is a very weird turnaround because he said he knew I wouldn’t go for him last night.

My jaw actually drops. Like I’m genuinely shocked at his words. “Um no he does not.” My mind goes to Lando from last night.

Lando on top of me.

Lando’s hair in my hands.

Lando’s face between-

“I’m just saying, be careful. I know him.” My brother knocks my foot with his so i’ll pay attention again.

“So do I… He definitely doesn’t care about me. Not in that way, or any really.” I go to pick up my book again, praying that this conversation will be over.

He stops me, “Y/n, I’m serious.”

“So am I.” I’m serious too. He stopped me before we could go all the way and I think a part of that is my brother's influence and room downstairs. I shut my book, “Lando doesn’t like me, he likes to flirt and he likes to piss you off. I’m an easy outlet for that.”

Max shakes his head, “Don’t let him kiss you.” Oh my poor naive brother…

“I won’t!” I laugh when I say it because I'm lying directly to his face.

⋆༺

lando

“I’m going to the store or else we will stare!” Y/n wraps a thick scarf around her neck, “Anyone wanna join?”

Now think with me here.

If the girl you went down on is looking incredibly beautiful again and asking if you would like to spend more time with her, despite sleeping in your bed with your arm around her the whole night, what would you do?

I guess my real question is, How eager is too eager?

I play it cool, pretending like I’m not jumping for joy in my mind that I've finally gotten to her. “I’ll go.”

She rolls her eyes when Max and P stay silent but I know she’s happy.

The car ride there is quiet, I convince her to let me drive as she reads off the list of things we need. The snow came down hard last night so the fact that we even made it to the store is a blessing.

Y/n is now leaning against the trolley, her back arched as she leans over it and walks. I follow her like a fucking puppy.

“Bacon.” I grab it for her.

“Olives.” I grab it for her.

“Fusilli…” I stop.

“Fusilli?” I groan, “Can’t we have Penne?”

She frowns, looking up at me as I hold the two boxes of pasta. “You’re such a child. We’re not having Penne for Christmas eve dinner.”

“Why not? It’s pesto! It’s only right.”

“Well it’s not very christmassy.” She puts her hand on her hip, her fingers tapping against her waistband. The same fingers that were in my hair last night.

“Wanna go make out?”

She grabs the Fusilli and rolls the trolley away from me. I laugh and follow her. She reaches for the wine she likes but I grab it before she can break anything, handing it to her I say, “What else is on that list of yours?”

She sends me off to grab tomatoes and garlic. I grab some mozzarella on the way but am stumped while looking for the garlic.

I finally spot it but a woman is standing in front of it, making the tiny food out of my reach. I pretend to look at something else and hope she will go away but am surprised at her commitment to finding the correct pickles.

I finally give up, knowing Y/n will be annoyed if I take too long because her ice cream might melt, “Excuse me.” I say as she steps back.

“Yes?” She looks at me with a smile as I awkwardly return it.

“Sorry, I need to grab the garlic.” She moves and I grab some, “Thanks.”

“No problem, sorry for being in the way.” The way she giggles makes my smile falter, “I like your shirt! Do you like racing?” I’m wearing an old McLaren shirt that I didn’t expect would be seen because it’s so cold out.

I clear my throat, “Yeah.”

“Me too!” Oh god i’m stuck. “I love McLaren as well.” Right….

“Do you follow indy car or Formula one…?”

“Formula one!” I can’t tell if she’s tricking me or just lying. “How about you?” And she’s definitely just stepping closer to flirt with me.

“Indy car!” I step back, trying to go but she keeps talking!

“Formula one is just so glamorous! I went to a grand prix once and…”

“Lan.” My tension is released as soon as Y/n rolls up with the cart, “Oh sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She sounds pissed off and very dry which almost makes me laugh.

“Oh!” the woman's smile turns sour, “Don’t worry.”

“We should go.” Y/n says, smiling politely.

“Don’t want the ice cream to melt!” I agree with her and practically run away.“Awkward that she didn’t know who she was talking to.”

Y/n scoffs, “Yeah I don’t think she actually liked F1…”

I laugh as we approach the checkout and I get a glimpse of her face. “Oh my god.”

She eyes me as we put the items up, “What?”

“You’re jealous.” She looks horrified that I even suggested it.

“I am not!”

“You so are!” I laugh, “Admit it. She was just talking and you called me Lan and you gave her the stink eye!” She doesn’t reply, just finishes with the food and moves to the register. “Do you know how many men flirt with you on a daily basis! Especially this trip!?”

The worker smiles at her and our things get bagged quickly, “Y/n…” I say teasingly as we leave the store.

“Shut up, Norris.” she snaps.

I open the trunk, leaning over the filled trolley to get closer to her, “You can be jealous. It’s hot.”

She goes to say something but shuts her mouth, loading the bags into the car and slamming her door shut.

[norikuna]

DITTO — Gojo Satoru a rewrite of this post.

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

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

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

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

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

✉️ — 1995. 💬 — gojo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✉️ — 1996. 💬 — you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✉️ — 2000. 💬 — you.

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

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

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

ouch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"hey!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"hey, what am i here for?"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

and yet -

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

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

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

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

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

"finally!"

✉️ — 2003. 💬 — gojo.

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

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

geto suguru.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✉️ — 2005. 💬 — both.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✉️ — 2006. 💬 — you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✉️ — 2007. 💬 — gojo.

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

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

he had known that geto, one of his dearest friends (one who always been so sure of himself) had fallen into disquiet lately, and even gojo had prodded him on whether he had lost weight through sleepless nights. but suguru would have just turned his head back to his book, lost in thought, with his dark hair loose around his face.

had he been blind? how had suguru's silence been covered by what gojo (privately) considered his own loud, defiant return? no, he knew of ghosts. he knew that some spirits and spectres could not be shaken, and sometimes when gojo himself closed his eyes, he could feel the sharp sting of an assassin's blade ramming through his throat, leaving him for dead.

but to murder over a hundred innocent people...

you had found him alone that evening, where he had sprawled over the stairs as the sunset blazed, painting them aglow in dusky hues. but gojo could barely notice any of this beauty, and so he just stared, lost in his thoughts that wouldn't settle.

(are you the strongest because you're satoru gojo? or are you satoru gojo because you're the strongest?)

he didn't hear you approach, until you placed a gentle hand on his shoulders, causing him to flinch, surprised out of his sorrowful reverie.

the warmth of your touch steadied him, and he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, and he wondered how you could always seem to know exactly when he needed you most.

but the thought twisted, sharp and bitter, for what if you would follow suguru the same way? had you not often looked at geto with light in your eyes? and you had never looked at him like that.

what if, someday, you left him the same way? what if you turned around and saw someone else worth following? he couldn't help his fists from clenching, tension rippling down his shoulders and painfully gripping his head.

"suguru..." his voice came out quieter than he meant, with a crack that he couldn't quite hide, and he heard you sharply inhale, "i can't believe he's gone. i don't know if...if i'll ever see him again. why would he -?"

you still didn't say anything, just tightening your hand on his shoulder. and satoru hated it. hated that he wanted to lean into the weight of your touch, hated that this is what being the strongest now entailed. that now he was plagued by fear, of losing you, of watching you slip through his fingers into another's orbit.

i'm only seventeen. what happened to my youth?

the thoughts are acidic, cynical and they leave him angry (with the world, with the higher ups, with himself, with his parents) and he can't help himself from blurting out the next question.

"did you like him?"

gojo tries to keep his tone light and casual, but he loathes how he sounds pleading, heavier. he feels the embarrassment of vulnerability shroud him as you meet his eyes, and he hates how your eyes are teary too.

you shouldn't cry. ever.

"like? as in like?"

"as in love," gojo mutters, "shoko said you did."

you sniff, and now your head is leaning on his shoulder and he can inhale the scent of your shampoo (apples? caramel?) and despite the crick in his neck, he lowers his shoulder further down so you are more comfortable.

"shoko talks too much sometimes," you laugh weakly, "but probably. i think i did."

gojo tries to tamper down the acrid lurch in his stomach, but you continue, "i think i did love him. but so did shoko. so did nanami, and haibara back when, -" you sigh, "and so did you. we all loved him. he was our friend."

his fingers had been hovering close to your hand for a while, almost as if he couldn't help himself, the pull. finally, he slid his smallest finger to let it curl around yours, drawing out a memory from over a decade ago.

"tell you what, when i become my clan head, i'll make sure you get the nicest robes, how's that?" "promise?" "why not?"

how silly that the hardest things in life had once been a bored child, and his new friend who fretted about her future wardrobe.

and when you clasped in hand entirely in its return, gojo's breath caught, his throat tightening. the words that he wanted to say, to spill from his throat, hovered in his mind but there was no infinite word strong enough to bring them out.

he wasn't an idiot, he wasn't daft and unobservant, he knew exactly what he wanted to say to you, to tell you from his lips to yours. but the way his heart laid itself bare in that moment unsettled him deeply, not the yearning itself, but how fierce it was. it disgusted him, the rawness of his desire, exposed right there in the open, where anyone could see it, including you. especially you.

with a realisation that was long coming, beneath the golden wash of the setting sun, he sighed deeply. if he ever lost you, if you ever looked at him with the same betrayal that he'd seen in suguru's eyes, he didn't know if he could survive it. it would cut deeper than his infinity could bear.

he tried speaking again, "if you ever -" but he doesn't get the chance to speak before you're leaning further into him, a quiet sniffle punctuating the silence.

"i won't."

✉️ — the next decade... 💬 — you.

"sweetheart, honey, my precious pumpkin pie."

you shot gojo a death glare, his attempt at flamboyant charm bouncing right off you, "i hate you. never speak to me again."

and your gaze dropped to what was left of your beautiful hermès scarf, once a beautiful concoction of cream-white silk, now reduced to tatters that fluttered pitifully in your hands, stained with some suspicious green goop.

you had cherished this pricey product, but gojo, in his infinite wisdom had decided to pick it up as a perfect blindfold right before a gnarly mission. and so, it got tangled with a nasty curse, and met its tragic, shredded end.

gojo raised his brows, feigning the innocence of a cherub, blinking his long lashes, "i'm sorry, i'll get you a new one, baby."

he drew out the pet name with exaggerated gusto that made you snarl, "enough with the pet names. you are a grown ass man."

and you gave him a first shove in the ribs that made the strongest sorcerer in the world stagger dramatically, only to catch himself with that easy grin still plastered on his face.

but before you could storm off and mourn whatever was left of your one-million yen possession, gojo darted in front of you, blocking your path with his ridiculously long arms. "come on, let me make it up to you, what if i had died on that mission?" he pleaded, looking at you with mock sincerity.

"i wouldn't have even come to the funeral," you sniffed, sticking your nose in the air, ignoring the fake choking sounds that came from the man as he clutched his chest.

months had turned into years, where you and gojo had grown up and graduated jujutsu tech together, carrying triumphs (you won valedictorian, out of a grand total of eight students), losses (gojo was a notoriously bad driver and almost crashed the car that the two of you were in) and countless moments in between.

the two of you had returned to your alma mater as teachers, and mentors, guiding younger sorcerers who were much like you'd once been; eager, impatient, and a little rough around the edges.

gojo took to teaching like he did most things, with his own reckless charm and devil-may-care attitude. he'd joke about skipping staff meetings, but he'd be there anyway, leaning back in his chair with his legs sprawled underneath him, mouthing snarky comments that only you could hear.

you'd like to think you'd grown more confident, no longer the uncertain teenager who used to glance at herself twice in the mirror. time had given you the chance to learn your strengths, and exorcising curses had left you all the more enduring.

gojo had noticed, though he'd never say it outright. he'd make some teasing comment about the way you would boss around a room, and you'd roll your eyes as you nudged him telling him that you had learnt from the biggest ego in tokyo. but sometimes, he'd watch you a little longer than he should, with that flicker in his gaze that he thought you hadn't noticed.

some things hadn't changed at all, and he still came back to you after every mission, every right. you'd hear him shuffling in from down the hall, his paper bags of desserts swinging as he tried to balance it along with his jacket, and whatever ridiculous trinket he'd picked up for you that week (you kept every single one).

and there the two of you would be, sitting cross-legged on your apartment floor, sharing sweets straight out of the boxes. he'd pass you a slice of cheesecake that he insisted that you simply must try, nudging your hand until your fingers enveloped his.

wouldn't it be a lie to claim that you didn't bask in the warmth of your best friend's gaze, even as he feigned interest in some story that he had overhead from the students on his way over from the school, with his low laughter filling the quiet around you.

sometimes, in the silence that would fall after the conversation ebbed, he’d reach over and trace circles absentmindedly on the back of your hand with his thumb, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. neither of you would move or speak. gojo would be looking anywhere but at you, yet his hand wouldn’t let go, tethering you to him in a way that made the apartment feel smaller — almost as if you’d already crossed some line neither of you dared to talk about.

what a pain to be haunted by someone who was already living and breathing right in front of you. sometimes, it left you nauseous, ill, and even screaming into your pillow after he left, and dialing shoko's number so she could give you an earful.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

your car idled at the curb, the sounds of the city filtering in through the barely open window, with the faint chill of the october night brushing against your skin.

gojo looked up from his phone, tapping his fingers on the screen, and there was a sober look on his face that made your stomach twist. you watched as he ran his head through his white hair, and sighed, his eyes still on the screen.

"apparently i was summoned by name," he said quietly, "to shibuya. whatever curtain's been set up is only allowing sorcerers through."

you kept one hand on the wheel, "ijichi reached out to me too, but he wants me covering the perimeter on the other side, away from the metro. but who would summon you by name?"

"i know. do you think it's...?"

"the traitor everyone's guessing about? who else?"

gojo scoffed a little, "fuckin' surprise," he muttered, casting you a glance that spoke volumes of protectiveness, one that made you lurch ever so slightly. his eyes met yours, an unspoken worry passing between you. you bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from blurting out the words that lived in the forefront of your mind.

and so, gojo reached for the door handle, and you saw him hesitate as his fingers drummed against the door, before pulling his blindfold up, "well, stay safe, yeah?"

you swallowed, trying to find some false platitude to offer back, "hey, i will if you will."

he gave a short laugh that must have not fully reached his eyes, but it softened the rest of his beautiful face in that way that you loved, "y'know, we could have been going trick-or-treating. dressed like idiots, stuffing our face with candy."

"tweedledee and tweedledum?"

gojo snorted, "next year then."

you hummed, "i'll keep that idea then, tweedledumb."

the bow of his lips quirked, and he looked away again before pushing himself out of the car, stepping out onto the suddenly cold, quiet sidewalk (too quiet, where was everyone?)

he paused, turning back to you through the window, as he lifted his hand up in a small wave, and you could tell he wanted to say something else — but the moment passed, and he closed his mouth, smiling instead in that way of his that said everything without a single word. and he pushed his hands back into his pocket, strolling away as you sat there, suddenly ever so lonely in your silent car, as chills went down your spine.

✉️ — october, 2018 💬 — you.

"gojo satoru has been sealed."

what the fuck?

the world has slowed down, every sound muffled as if you'd been submerged underwater. shibuya had left gojo sealed in the prison realm by...no. it couldn't be.

suguru geto was dead. dead, executed. had it not been almost a year? you had mourned, gojo had grieved. and yet, the impossible had clawed its way into reality, leaving you feeling like you were teetering on the edge of something dark and unknowable.

soon the shock twisted into dread, an icy grip that clenched tight around your chest, left the blood draining from your face. god, your hair must just turn as white as his from the stress alone. your best friend, the one who had been beside you in sickness and health.

it was cruel, you thought, to not even be allowed the time to fall apart, now now. there was little space for it in the chaos that had erupted the next day, when waves of curses crashed through the city like nothing you had ever seen. what fresh hell was this, you wondered as you nursed a nasty set of wounds, trailing after (tormented, sweet, far too young) itadori yuji, and his supposed older brother, some blood manipulation user that had done his fair share of damage throughout the night.

the culling games.

the brutality of it shocked you, and several times during the upcoming days, you had to blink back hot tears as sorcerers were summoned, drafted, and thrown into what was quickly a gladiator spectacle, some devilry concocted from geto's, no, kenjaku's mind. and the stakes were not just your own survival, but the students you had mentored — the young souls who had grown under your watch, and needed you now more than ever.

it quickly cost you an eye. a clash with a fierce, blood-thirsty wayward sorcerer had left you bloody and bruised with a clean gash that ran through your right eye, and you had screamed, taken a life even. only the baritone, dulcet tone of the yuji's half-curse brother (choso? a member of the kamo clan? since when did half-curses even exist?) had pulled you away from launching the contents of your stomach over the pavement, as you stared at the crimson dripping off your hands. were you supposed to be grateful that you had survived this, when so many others had not? yuji's tears had kept you awake in the night, his sobs when he thought that no-one could hear him.

gojo's absence had become a wound, raw, with a side of constant ache that you could feel with every waking heartbeat. and so you tried to fight hard with his voice echoing in your ears, remembering the half-smile he'd flash when you'd land a difficult hit, or the grateful look in his eyes knowing that his students were safe.

days blurred together, and nights bled into ceaseless combat, of the terror of being on the run, and still gojo was with you. the thought of finding him, the thought of him being unsealed from the prison realm almost had you blurting false, desparate promises to the sky that you would tell him exactly what you felt for him, bare your heart out in its entirety for him to hold in his hands.

like it had always been.

✉️ — november, 2018 💬 — you.

it was surreal seeing him again, unsealed and standing there against the burnt umber of the sky, rough around the edges but undeniably gojo. nineteen days of living with the ache of his absence, of waking every morning with a hollow flower blooming in your chest, he was here — alive, breathing, real.

but god, it had been so beautiful to meet his blue gaze once more, and that fleeting smile cross his face before he rushed to pull you into his arms, closing the distance and pulling you into his arms with a new strength that almost lifted you off your feet. and if you closed your eye, you could pretend that nothing had happened, nothing at all. that it was just you pressed against the warm, beating heart in gojo's chest, unrestrained and fierce as thick arms pulled you close, filling your senses with smoke, and earth, and long-spilt blood.

"don't you look eye catching?"

you huffed and leaned away from him, slamming your fist on hard muscle in exasperation, but if you hadn't turned your gaze away, you would have seen gojo's eyes twitch as he took in your battle-worn appearance, the scar that ran underneath bandages where an eye would have once been. if you had paid more attention, you would have heard his intake of breath as he ran his tongue behind his teeth, with a vow, a promise.

"guess who's going to kick sukuna's ass so far back to the heian era," gojo murmured, and you let out a shaky laugh that echoes all the way down to the marrows of your bones.

"yeah, i thought you were just all talk."

"i'm still alive, aren't i?" he shot back, cocky and boyish once more, and your eyes traced over him, drinking in every small change, the sharper clench in his jaw, the tautness in his frame, the way his shoulders seemed broader, like he had been carved up in the prison realm anew. and it leaves you melancholic.

in another universe, the two of you were still young, hand in hand underneath the blue sky as the cool breeze ran through your hair. but battles had turned to war, and the night had no time for what ifs.

"hey, don't go worrying about me," gojo murmured, almost as though he had caught the shadow in your heart, and he plastered a grin on his face, stretching his toned arms in some show of nonchalance, but his gaze lingered on the ruins too long, on the mottled group of assembled sorcerers who seemed to brim with new-found confidence at his return.

and when he finally looked back at you with a new dullness in your eyes, a heaviness you hadn't seen in a long time. it left a dead weight in your chest, but you forced yourself to return his own bland smile, playing along with the front he was trying to maintain, "well, i guess i'll have to keep you out of trouble from now on."

✉️ — november-december, 2018 💬 — you.

the month began to stretch and pass in a blur on the endless horizon, complete with the aching and unbearable waiting where you knew something was going to happen, and yet you did not know when and where. shoko had forgone her own exhausation to see to the rest of the wounds, the ones that had festered under bandages and grimes, leaving faint trails over your skin but she had shaken her head sadly when it came to the socket on your face, even she could not restore an eye.

gojo had swapped his suits and jackets for loose martial pants, and a tight black top that had clung to the muscular frame that he'd honed over the years, laughing off your concerns like they were nothing more than passing clouds.

"don't fret," he'd say, "how bad could this be? you know i told yuji once that even if sukuna was at his full power, i'd still wipe the floor with him. you believe me right?"

you weren't sure if his question was cocky, or a plea, and the fatigue had caused you to snap, "and now, yuji flinches when he hears loud sounds, and he's just another kid who can't fuckin' stop wringing his hands in blood! look what you've done to him!"

gojo's eyes had twitched afterwards, the corner of his mouth pulling down, but he hadn't gotten angry. and you hated it. you hated it all.

but you had wanted to believe in him, in his optimism. you wanted to let his smooth words settle into your bones like the warm comfort they should have been. but how could you feel at ease when everyone was now playing a role? each sorcerer in this building was feigning whatever mask or persona that they had painted and drawn across their face, just as you had. just as gojo did.

but nothing was the same anymore.

and neither were you.

the loss of your eye, the streaks of scars on your skin haunted you. it felt cowardly to say, but this was not the life you should have lived. you simply just didn't see yourself as strong enough, and your eyes watered thinking about the days when you dallied under a clear sky, skirts swaying along the grass as you trailed after your best friend, catching fireflies, exploring shrines, falling to the earth in child-like innocence.

the hollow space on your face, the empty socket served as a reminder of what you had survived, of the world that had fallen into pieces. was there anyone here who would recognise themselves in the mirror anymore?

some nights, the world felt impossibly still, and you would sit at the window and press your hands to the cold of the glass as you watched a scarred city sprawl ahead of you.

you didn't turn at the sound of footsteps at first, and you sat there, with your fingers still dancing on the edge of the window. you closed your eyes as you felt him approach, close, but not enough — you wished he would sit by you, press his soft head to your own, close enough for you to hold him in your hands, curl into his skin.

"satoru, can you make another promise?"

gojo's steps had paused, just a breath but it was enough to know that you had his attention. but when he spoke, "please tell me we're not doing theatrics right now," his voice was laced with that same dismissive edge that he always used when he was trying to push the truth far away.

"can't you shut up, just once? promise me you won't let sukuna kill you, i can't even imagine -" and how irritating, and how melancholic (fuck, this was like a bad soap opera) that your throat was already tightening, your voice wavering with tears that you had been holding back for weeks.

for a moment, gojo didn't respond, and he just stood there and you needn't have turned around to know that there was no trace of laughter nor joy on his face. no easy smirk to deflect the gravity of your well-founded fears. and the silence left you cold.

for the first time, you were suddenly hoping that he might say something blasé, to tell you to stop worrying, to brush it off and just reassure you. but he didn't, he was quiet.

and so you turned to face him, and you felt almost villainous for verbalising your future grief like this, to one who must already have carried such an eternal, heavy burden.

no longer did the blue of his eyes shine like a spring sky, with feather-like clouds that danced in his iris. now, there was only a fractured storm. and god, you loathed that for the first time in what must have been years, his own face was reddening, his eyes suddenly teary, clouds gathering torrential rain.

you knew he hated being seen like this. over a decade of holding him close to your heart had made you privy to his ways, to the way that he'd furiously rub at his face when upset, as if he could will the distress away and hide his tears.

gojo had outstretched his little finger towards you now, hooking it with your own, and your heart stuttered as he brought your finger to his lips, so quick that a ghost may have brushed your skin, with the seal of a promise.

"i will try. god, i swear, i...i promise, i will try." and you knew that gojo satoru was scared, terrified even of what december 24th would bring.

"i -"

you wanted to say it all, wanted to tell him everything. but the words stuck in your throat, love and want and need and ferocious, capricious grief all sat lodged within your beating heart that was so tightly bound in iron chains.

it was a shameful thing. you should have sat there, and comforted him instead. should have told him that it was alright, and you did not know a more powerful and capable sorcerer than he, that he'd leave sukuna in ashes. should have laid your hand on his brow to soothe the lines away from his pale, streaked face.

but you had always been selfish, held onto your heart like a being of folklore, guarded and self-assuming. you wept heart-aching tears, feeling them pool in your sleeves, and run hot salt trails over your lips. maybe it was a testament to how much gojo satoru loved you too, that he could not bear to see you in such grief, and he hesitated.

then he turned to leave you by the window.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

the turn of the year felt cold, far too chilly, even though the night was still young. the city lights twinkled in solitary clumps outside, but they were just as dim as the heavy weight in your chest. the walls seemed to close in as gojo prepared to leave, to face sukuna — the king of curses. and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was slipping through your fingers, something that you would never be able to grasp again, no matter how tightly you gripped.

everyone had wished him luck, calling your their bravest words of encouragement as he walked past them, their voices echoing through the hall, as they slapped him on the back.

they all cheered the same platitudes.

"go fuck sukuna up!"

"language!"

"sorry, choso."

"show him what you're made of!"

"prove that you're not just a pretty face, gojo!"

and so you had plastered the same smile on your face, hoping that it would reach your eyes as gojo winked at you, "hey, before you start telling me off, now it's your turn to promise me something."

you had cocked your head up at him, ignoring shoko's narrowed, tired eyes, "yeah?"

"mhm," satoru nodded, pulling his arms around you, "after this, after all this bullshit, we get to take a vacation."

a barked laugh escaped you, before it collapsed into a giggle, "you want paid leave? that's all it is?"

your best friend's large hands gripped you, flat against your back, "yeah, that's all there is. we're gonna go take a holiday, sit by the beach, watch the ocean. keep it simple."

"a picnic too, eh?"

gojo nodded, humming, "we'll plan everything. about time we got to take a break. i'll be back before you even know it."

you felt his voice hitch against your ear, and your heart twisted painfully in response, he wasn't saying it but you both knew the cold truth, there was a real chance that he may never come back. before your vision could blur, you pressed his lips to his cheek, letting them linger for a moment on smooth skin (and you felt his arms tighten around you) and hoped that whatever you hoped to say, whatever spine you lacked, could be expressed so swiftly.

"come back then, please. i'll be ready." you whispered between his skin and your lips, the tremble leaving no space for air in your lungs.

for a moment, he didn't answer, just held you, and you tried to focus on the feeling of his chest rising and falling in slow, measured breaths. then, just as you were about to pull away, he spoke, the words falling from his mouth, so familiar and so effortless.

"of course i will. i always do."

there was a flicker of something raw there in his eyes, and you had seen it both before and after shibuya. his lips parted as if he were about to say something, but whatever it was, it never came. instead, he just nodded, a silent promise — unspoken, but felt deep in your bones.

without another word, he turned toward the door. and just before stepping out, he looked back one last time. that smile, that arrogant, confident smile that always made your heart race —i t was there, but it wasn’t the same. it was stretched thin, fragile. his blue eyes were tired, haunted, and for a moment, you saw the truth — the part of him he always kept hidden. the fear. the doubt.

"i'll be back," he repeated, but this time, it didn’t sound like a joke. it sounded like a prayer. a desperate, half-broken promise from the closest thing that the world had to a god.

you couldn’t speak. your heart was lodged in your throat, and the words that you needed to say just wouldn’t come. you wanted to tell him that you loved him, that you always had, that you were scared to lose him, that the world without him in it felt like a hollow echo of what it could be. but you couldn’t.

instead, you just nodded, your face a mask of emotions you couldn’t express.

and then, with one final look, a look that held everything neither of you had the courage to say — he stepped out into the cold, his footsteps fading into the distance.

✉️ — december 24, 2018 💬 — you.

gojo satoru was dead.

dead. killed.

for a moment, you stood frozen in the doorway of shoko's office, numbness seeping into your bones with a furious grief as you stared at the cold, unmoving form that was once satoru.

fuck, there was bile in your throat as a once lively boy now lay in four pieces, cleanly sliced by sukuna's unforgiving technique, and the sight was a nightmare made so real, something that you just couldn't reconcile with the man who had once been so vibrantly alive.

the warmth that had always clung to him had vanished, leaving his skin pale in the grasp of rigor mortis, and his lips were still flecked with dried blood that had painted a stark contrast against his stiff skin.

and his eyes, those striking blue eyes that used to glint with love and hope and dreams, were now dull, and still open. you had not the heart to close them, for once your hand pulled his eyelids down, you would never see them again, never look into his eyes until it was your time to pass from the circles of the world.

the last thing you’d seen of him had been that cocky grin, that wink that seemed so unbreakable, that laugh that lingered even as he left your embrace. he’d held you, promised you that he would come back, but now, as you stood there, that promise felt like a cruel lie, something that should’ve warned you but instead gave you nothing but hope.

you choked on a breath, your hand coming up to your mouth as you felt the weight of your unspoken words sink down like lead. i should have told him. you’d wanted to say it all, to let him know how much he meant to you, to tell him that he was your everything. but the words had died in your throat, held back by fear, by the delusion that there’d always be another chance, that he’d always come back.

you’d believed him. you’d believed, with every part of yourself, that he’d make it out alive.

but here he was, torn apart, the last shreds of life stolen from him by the king of curses. you had seen him being cut down, like a sheaf of wheat under a god's sickle, how sudden and gut wrenching it had been, and for the second time in a month, you had been on the edge of hurling onto the stone. but this time, the half-curse beside you, choso, hadn't stopped you from losing the contents of your stomach, as instead he had pressed his younger brother's cries to his broad chest, the grief swallowing the entire room.

gojo hadn’t been given the chance to fight back, hadn’t even been able to draw a breath before he’d been torn apart. and that final thought — that he’d been caught off guard, helpless, alone in his last moments — left you feeling shattered, grief clawing at you with merciless hands.

your knees felt weak as you moved toward him, your trembling fingers reaching out to touch his face, cold and unyielding beneath your hand. you traced the lines of his face, memorising every detail, as if somehow, through touch alone, you could keep a piece of him with you. a tear slipped down your cheek, landing on his lips, lips that had once murmured promises, had brushed against your skin in fleeting, unspoken moments. the tear brought moisture once more to the blood that splattered his face, but quickly, it disappeared, drying and taking away any life.

"i should’ve told you,” you whispered, your voice broken, raw, laced with the pain of regret, "i don't know if you ever knew how much i loved you."

you closed your eyes, the silence thickening around you, pressing down until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. your mind replayed every smile, every laugh, every word he’d ever spoken to you, each memory twisting the knife of grief deeper into your chest. the emptiness of the room swallowed you whole, and all that was left was the aching, unbearable reality that he was gone — that the man who had been your best friend, your confidant, your everything, was nothing more than a memory now.

you stayed there, your hand resting on his cold cheek, as if the warmth of your touch could somehow reach him, bring him back. but he was gone, and with him, he’d taken the words you’d never been able to say, the love you’d never been able to give.

and as the silence closed in around you, suffocating and absolute, you knew that part of you had died with him.

✉️ — not so long later. 💬 — you. it could only be you now, for you are the only one left.

the sun was beginning to set as you reached the shore, casting an amber glow over the ocean. the waves lapped quietly against the sand, as a gentle roll becoming a reminder that the world was still moving, even when the battles were done.

even though everything within you felt like it had come to a standstill. you clutched a folded piece of glossy card, and a box. two things that shoko said she found on him, things that she thought you should keep, she added quietly.

and so, you sat down on the sand, letting the evening wind sweep over you as you gazed out at the endless stretch of water. the ocean had always been something you had dreamed of seeing together, an endless horizon that was wild and untameable, just like gojo satoru had been. but he was gone, gone, and that promise would forever remain unkept.

you opened the folded glossy card, wincing as you tried not to press the faded creases further, brushing over the faded edges. it was dated to the fall of 2005, and you bit your lip as you saw your own image stare back at you. when the world had felt endless, and you had two wide eyes to see it with. there you were, that day in the market, laughing in the photo with your head thrown back sweetly, and you wetly laughed as you saw geto suguru's confused expression in the background, clearly exasperated with gojo's photography skills.

a choked sob escaped you as you traced your smile in the photo, so oblivious to what would come. you’d been so happy then, wrapped in a moment that had felt simple and whole. gojo had teased you relentlessly that day, snapping photos every chance he got, and you’d thought he was just being his usual, silly self. you’d never realised he’d kept this one one, never knew it meant enough for him to carry it all this time.

with a shaking hand, you opened the box, revealing the ring nestled inside. fuck.

it was beautiful, impossibly beautiful, as if he’d carefully chosen each detail with you in mind. the diamond glistened in the fading light, flecked with small blue stones that reminded you of his eyes, the eyes that used to light up every time he looked at you. this ring was supposed to be a promise, just as the ones you made when you locked little fingers — a promise he never got the chance to make, a life together that you’d both been too afraid to admit you wanted.

the first tear fell, splashing onto the sand below, followed by another, and then another, until you were trembling, the grief tearing out of you in waves, raw and unstoppable. you held the ring to your chest, clutching it as if somehow, by holding it close, you could feel him, hear his laughter, feel the warmth of his arms around you.

you could almost hear his voice on the wind, that playful edge mixed with tenderness as he called you by one of his ridiculous pet names. sweetheart, honey, my pumpkin pie, followed by your irritated huff telling him to drop those names.

but truly, here was nothing. just the sound of the waves, relentless and indifferent, echoing the hollow ache in your chest.

the what-ifs clawed at you, memories replaying over and over in your mind: moments when you’d almost reached for him, almost whispered the words, almost let your heart break free. but each time, you’d held back, too afraid to disrupt the delicate balance between you, too certain there’d be another day. but now, those moments were gone, scattered like dust in the wind, and the weight of those unsaid words felt unbearable.

you pressed the photograph to your lips, closing your eyes as if you could summon him back, if only for a moment. but when you opened your eyes, all that greeted you was the empty horizon, stretching out into nothingness.

"i love you,” you murmured, voice broken, barely more than a whisper. "i love you. i always loved you."

the words hung in the air, unheard, unanswered. it was too late, too late for confessions, too late for promises. the life you’d wanted with him, the life he’d carried in his pocket with a ring and a photograph, was gone, lost to the cruel twist of fate that had taken him from you.

you stayed there on the sand as the sky darkened, the weight of his absence pressing down on you like a storm. the wind whipped around you, cold and biting, and you shivered, clutching his ring, his memory, as if that alone could keep you grounded.

as night fell, the stars began to appear, dotting the sky with fragile points of light, distant and unreachable. and you sat there, letting the grief wash over you, lost in the silent, aching expanse of the ocean and the memories of a love that would remain forever unspoken, forever unfulfilled.

wasn't love the greatest curse of them all?

[noyasmashing]

Current fave idea is the karasuno gang meeting up after they graduate to catch up, and there's a person there none of them recognize(Sugas younger sister by like a year) and one of them (noya, tsukki, tanaka, kageyama... tsukki.. I'm bias lol) catches her eye, and suddenly, they're back at her apartment crying out for her

OML I love when i get specific requests they r so fun to write 🙈

Sub!Tsukkishema x Fem!Reader

CW: Alcohol usage, cryin, overstimulation??, objectification, nasty (unprotected) pnv sex, chocking (mention of it at the end), kinda sadistic reader tbh, bondage, foodjob??

The old Karasuno team was gathering at their previous haunt, the local ramen shop near their high school. It had been a while since they'd all been together, and they decided to meet up, along with some other mutual friends from back in the day. As they chatted excitedly about their lives post-graduation, reminiscing about their volleyball days, there was someone among them they couldn't quite place.

Nishinoya, ever observant, noticed a young woman sitting quietly at the edge of their group. She was sipping her ramen and listening intently to their stories, occasionally smiling or nodding along. "Hey guys," Nishinoya interrupted, "Who's our new friend here?"

They all turned to look at her. "Oh, I'm Koshi’s younger sister," she replied with a warm smile. "I heard so much about all of you from my brother. It's nice to finally meet you!"

Nishinoya's eyes widened in surprise. "Suga's sister? Wow, I didn't even know he had a sister!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm a year younger than him," she explained, her hand circling the tip of her glass, the alcohol bringing the rosiness out of her cheeks.

Tsuki gazed at the girl seated in-front of him. Truth be told he didn’t really notice her until Nishinoya had said something, but he couldn't help but be intrigued. This girl had a familiar spark about her—maybe it was her smile, or the way she listened so attentively. She seemed to share Suga's kindness and warmth.

Throughout the evening, Tsuki found himself stealing glances at her. he didn’t know what it was, maybe her easy going demeanor, or her smile when she giggled at one of Hinatas dumb jokes. He wasn’t used to looking at someone and not wanting to immediately insult them.

As the night progressed, Tsukki discovered himself engaging in more and more conversation with her. Normally not one to talk much, he was content listening to her stories from high school, her interests, and more.

They hadn’t noticed the time passing until others started saying their farewells and leaving the venue. Amidst the commotion of the crowd, Tsukki momentarily took his eyes off her, and just like that, she vanished. He anxiously scanned the dining room, navigating through the sea of people in search of her.

It was safe to say he was hooked. He wanted nothing more but to be in her presence, and he was starting to give up on that idea, as he spotted Sugawara leaving too. Then, as luck would have it, he turned his head one last time and caught her gaze, smirking up at him through her lashes.

She was tucked away towards the back of the shop near the bathrooms, chatting with Nishinoya, casually leaning against the wall.

"Bye, [name]!" Nishinoya exclaimed, before skipping away in his usual hyper manner. She smiled warmly in response, giving him a lazy wave goodbye.

As Tsukki timidly approached her, he noticed a mischievous smirk on her lips. "Were you looking for me, like a little lost puppy?" she teased, tilting her head to the side with confidence.

His cheeks burned embarrassingly red as he shook his head and muttered a quiet “fuck you." He knew she was right, but he couldn't summon the courage to defend himself properly, especially when she stood up and closed the gap between the two. He could feel the warmth of her breath, tinged with the scent of alcohol, and he could almost feel her breasts press against him.

Avoiding her gaze, he looked away, attempting to maintain his usual stoic expression.

"You're all bark and no bite," she grinned again, grabbing his face to make him meet her gaze. His glasses were perched low on his nose, and he peered at her over them, his breath catching in his throat. The only thing on his mind was how good she looked up close.

She grinned at his hesitation, “I have an uber outside, would you like to come home with me, pretty boy?”

And that’s how Tsukishima found himself in this predicament, kneeling with his very own tie binding his hands.

He grumbled in frustration as he attempted to free his hands from the tie once again. He wanted to appear irritated, not willing to admit the reason why his dick was pressing against his pants at that moment.

But, when she leaned down and planted her foot, encased in sheer stockings, against his groin, he could no longer hide it. His lower lip quivered as a whimper escaped him, his hips instinctively moving to press against her foot.

She sneered at him, increasing the pressure as she spoke, "You will take what I give you, understand?" Her previously kind and gentle demeanor was completely replaced by a more intense and commanding presence. Tears welled up in his eyes as he nodded weakly, trying to maintain his composure in the face of her dominance.

She started to glide her foot up and down the length of his pulsating erection. He could feel the sticky mess seeping into his boxers, the urge to remove them growing stronger by the second.

He couldn't help but utter a desperate "please," a plea that earned him a sadistic smile from her.

"Please what, pretty boy?" She teased, her movements becoming more deliberate against his crotch. He felt his entire body heating up as he craved more stimulation. This was unlike anything he had experienced before, and he was on the brink of making a mess in his dress pants.

He took a deep breath before nervously replying, "Can't you use a little more..." his voice trailed off, unable to meet her gaze. He could feel her seductive eyes fixed solely on him, but he couldn't summon the courage to look at her, knowing that if he did, he might climax right then and there.

"Hmm... We wouldn't want you spoiling those nice pants now, would we?" She questioned, tilting her head slightly with a mischievous smile playing on her lips.

He finally mustered the courage to look up at her and replied with a shaky, "Y-yeah," his eyes reflecting a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

“Why don’t you join me up here then?” She suggested, patting the bed where she sat, a warm invitation in her voice and smile.

He stood up shakily, his hands still bound behind his back, but before he could even take a seat, she pushed him onto his back with a forceful yet gentle motion.

“Be a good toy and let me use you a bit,” she instructed this time, her hands deftly moving towards his zipper with a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

With swift movements, his aching member was now free, proudly displayed on his toned stomach. He couldn't help but let out a gasp at the sensation, feeling a rush of embarrassment as she gazed at him with interest.

"A-are you surprised?" he quipped, trying to sound confident even with a blush covering his ears. But she saw through his facade in an instant, especially when his tip was leaking pre-cum, giving away his nervous excitement like a virgin eager for his first fuck.

She sneered at his comment, biting back without hesitation, "Good toys stay quiet for their owner."

His head fell back in utter embarrassment at her sharp retort. Embarrassed at how his cock twitched she said that. Embarrassed that the second her pussy grazed his sensitive member, his hands instinctively pulled at the tie, his back arching in a desperate, pathetic display of need.

As his cock sank into her wet pussy, he let out the prettiest of moans, feeling a surge of pleasure as his eyes rolled back uncontrollably. Her hips rolled forward against him, causing his member to throb with intense arousal. He couldn't resist raising his hips, wanting to be buried as deeply inside her as possible, lost in the blissful sensation.

It didn't help that every time she raised her hips, just to aggressively slam them down, she whispered filthy things in his ears. Her words sent shivers down his spine and added a delicious layer pleasure to every sensation.

"Cummin'," he would slur, as she rode him through his body-shaking orgasm, but she never stopped. He wanted desperately to caress her soft skin, to cover his mouth to muffle the embarrassing whispers escaping him, but she would giggle at his struggles against the restraints. The sensation of her teasing laughter only added to his pleasure, driving him further into a frenzy of ecstasy as she continued to ride him with relentless abandon.

"Such a good... good toy for me," she panted between breaths, continuing to fuck herself on his raging cock. The natural curve in it, plus the sheer thickness of him, was just too perfect.

She brought two fingers to his lips and clumsily pushed them inside, his tongue swirling desperately around them, seeking distraction from the overwhelming sensations. But her fingers were gone too soon, leaving him wanting more as she pulled them away and pressed them against her sensitive clit. The sight of her pleasuring herself with the very fingers that had been inside him moments before was too much for him.

The sound of her gasps of pleasure as she pleasured herself was torture for him, even though he was still buried deep inside her. He yearned to be the one touching her, driving her wild with desire himself. The sight of her lost in her own pleasure, eliciting those intoxicating sounds from deep within her throat, fueled the fire of desire burning within him. He couldn't help but let out a string of whines, the need to touch her, to bring her to the edge overwhelming his senses.

He had likely cum at least twice, doing everything in his power to muffle his moans, even resorting to biting his lip until it bled. But she did not stop for a second, her relentless pace and intensity driving him wild with desire. The pleasure and the pain mingled together, making hot tears roll down his cheeks.

It seemed his tears only fulled her desire, as her hands made their way to his neck. “You would look so pretty with my hands around your throat.”

It became clear that this night was going to be longer than either of them had expected.

[wildemaven]

look at us | joel miller

pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 2748 warnings: 18+ blog; Smut, maybe even smut with no real plot, Nipple play, orgasm through nipple stimulation, praise, multiple orgasms, using arousal as lube, mutual masterbastion (f & m), cum eating/sharing, mirror watching, my horrible attempt at keeping a conversation flowing during sexy time, Joel can’t keep his hands to himself, fluff, established relationship, mentioned that reader is wearing a dress & bra but has zero descriptive features, can be read as no outbreak or prior to outbreak Joel, there’s no Sarah in this universe notes: this is a reimagined version of an older fic i posted and didn’t really like for some reason. Switched the characters and reworked it a bit. Smut is so hard to write for me, I just question the whole thing in its entirety and never want to do it again. But I love this storyline so much more now as Joel that I honestly don’t even care if the smut is wonky— I just want joel now. This writer supports Palestine and does not share or support the views of tlou creator.

It’s a heady sensation.

Visceral. Demanding. Gratifying.

His touch. A grounding force that burns through you, igniting every nerve ending in its wake.

Plaint and warm, your body blooms with a carnal appetency.

He’s emboldened by every sound he plucks from you. The softest whimpers that fall from your lips, kiss every single inch of his dewy skin. He’s forever addicted to your willingness to take what he has to give you— always wanting more.

Generous. Attentive. Steadfast.

Earnestness bleeds into a lustrous selfishness. The anticipation palpable, watching as you come apart in his arms, your pleasure is his forevermore.

It’s intuitive, the way he’s drawn to you. Most mornings, taking advantage of what little time he has with you, before work is pulling you both in different directions. Then you’re reunited for the evening and he’s making up for lost time, devouring and satisfying, well into the next day.

An endless cycle of being connected and reconnecting.

When weekends come around, he’s selfish. Overindulging beyond his means. Knowing he has ample time to relish in the closeness. Met with endless opportunities to have you near in any capacity as the hours of the day tick on, time he doesn’t take for granted.

Today is no different. From the moment the truck backs out of the driveway, beginning the several mile drive across town in the direction of Tommy’s home, he’s reaching for your hand.

Palm to palm, fingers perfectly intertwined as your hands stay connected over the center console of his pickup. The afternoon sun streaming through the window, adding to the already budding warmth that’s building between you. The conversation is light. Joel listening intently as you share details from your week, his thumb working over your knuckles as you move through the highlights of your story.

The remainder of the drive has a comfortable lull as the miles roll by. Music streaming through the cab, the lyrics provoking a wave of affection. Joel’s lips find the top of your hand periodically, his gaze never breaking from the road ahead. Your heart racing instantly at his instinctual gesture.

The gathering of friends— barbecuing, music and laughter, doesn't deter him from keeping you within arms reach.

Joel’s hand settles on the small of your back, fingers lightly dragging back and forth over your tingling spine, as you both exchange hello’s and hugs to the group friends in attendance scattered around the backyard

While Tommy is busy tending to the food on the barbecue, Joel and you are caught up listening to Paul, Tommy’s old army buddy and the newest hire at Joel’s construction company, share stories from his and Tommy’s time together in the military. Both of you enthralled by the recounts of close calls and embarrassing moments for the younger Miller brother, only to be interrupted by a flustered Tommy calling for Paul to grab plates and napkins from inside.

The minute you’re alone his hand is wandering south, grabbing at the meat of your ass and pulling you flush against him. It’s the first moment you’ve been alone since arriving and he’ll be damned if he’s not going to take advantage of it.

You smile into his kiss, fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt as he leans in close, his hushed words fanning across your ear.

“You look so damn pretty in that dress. Can’t wait to get my hands on you later.” The husk in his voice nearly makes you melt further into him, not even surprised by the cool dampness coating the silk panties you chose today, just for him.

“Hmmm— your hands haven’t left me since we got here.” You muse.

“I like havin’ you close.”

“You’ve made that quite obvious, Miller.” You joke, before he’s silencing you with another less than chaste kiss.

Dinner is served as the sun begins its descent. The air dropping a few degrees cooler, has goosebumps pricking at your skin. But it’s nothing compared to the shiver Joel is causing you, his hand nestled between your legs under the table.

You find it hard to focus between all the lively conversations being volleyed across the table, dishes being passed around and laughter cutting through friendly onslaughts of fuck you’s.

Joel mindlessly massaging at your thigh as he talks. Filling everyone in on the projects he’s started around the house, while your brain is muddled with thoughts of Joel’s hands and only Joel’s hands.

You can’t be positive it’s a deliberate move— or is it? You’ve been with him long enough to know what a calculated man Joel is.

He leans forward to reach for the ketchup bottle, his other hand shifting further up your thighs, his demeanor is cool and even as his fingers brush over your clothed mound. His fingers slowly gliding over the very drenched fabric. You swallow a thick gasp as your hips cant forward on instinct, chasing his retreating hand, your cunt aching and desperate for more of his teasing.

The wink he shoots you as he settles back in his chair is all the evidence you need to know his plan worked.

“Look like you saw an infected zombie or somethin’. Everything okay, Baby?” You want to kiss the devilish smirk right off of his handsome face.

“Y-yeah.” Horny and desperate for you, but fine.

“Y’sure about that? Those perked nipples of yours are tellin’ a different story, Sweetheart.” He quietly calls you out. You glance down to see the thin fabric of your summer dress and lace bra are no match to conceal the hardened peaks— your body so easily betraying you is nothing new.

“We should head out soon.” You say softly, Joel nods immediately, the silent agreement has you eager for what’s in store when you arrive home.

The ongoing conversation among the others is now muted background noise as you stare into his needy eyes, your hand cupping the side of his face as your thumb traces over his plush lower lip.

“We’re headin’ out. Thanks for havin’ us, Tommy. Hope to see y’all again sometime soon. ‘Night.” Joel rushes through announcing your departure, pulling you from your seat, his body crowding behind you as he ushers you towards his truck.

“You’re not even gonna stay and help clean up?” Tommy pouts from his chair.

“You’re a big boy Tommy, I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Joel yells over his shoulder with a two finger wave as the gate clicks shut, home and you are the only thing cares about for the remainder of the evening.

“Fuuuuuuuck— Joel!” Your mind slowly seeping into a deep pleasured state.

There’s little recollection of leaving Tommy’s house and the drive home, other than Joel’s unrelenting need to have you close at all times— no complaints from you whatsoever.

Joel’s firm grip on your hand when he all but drags you to the bedroom of your shared home, clothes stripped at the foot of your bed in a hasty fashion.

The accumulation of Joel’s fiery touches throughout the day were merely effortless foreplay, all considered and aiding in his profound efforts that have been unfolding since arriving home.

“You look so fuckin’ good. Look at us, Baby.” The low gravel of his voice is overwhelming, but laced with pure authenticity. You lift your head just enough as your eyes slowly flutter open, trying to catch a glimpse of what he sees in the full length mirror positioned on the wall across from where you both are in bed— a mere coincidence that it was placed in there when you moved in.

“‘M l-looking, J-joel.”

It’s exquisitely striking how your cunt flutters madly against the cool air of the bedroom. The sight alone is better than any pornography you’ve consumed together.

Joel sitting up against the headboard holding your body close to his. Your back firm and tacky against his chest, breathing in rhythmic unity.

His feet hooked around your ankles, keeping your legs spread out as he hones in on the two luring forms glaring back in the mirror, a view that will forever edge out his own fantasies of you.

His large hands hold the weight of your breasts with pleasing dexterity, whispering the most beautiful obscene things into your ear.

I love your body. I love the way you moan. Missed your pussy all day. God, you’re always on my mind. Fuck, you’re makin’ me so hard. Louder. Fuck. Look at me.

Your gaze finally catches Joel’s in the reflection. It’s direct and overwhelming, his warm brown eyes flickering with a bold desire igniting a ripple of goosebumps over your body.

You’re both possessed by the new wave of arousal, glistening in the afternoon light, as it ardently drips from your pussy down to the bed sheets. Desperately craving to be devastated by this handsome man.

Joel’s thumbs swipe over your hard sensitive nipples, pulling a breathy gasp from your lips. Your head falling back into his shoulder as you let the sensation fully consume you.

“You like that don’t you?” You can only manage to hum in response, which encourages him to continue his work over the pebbled skin.

“Y-yes. You know how much I d-do.”

Joel knows this. Well enough too. It’s a normal occurrence that you find yourself in this identic state. Your body buzzing and exhausted, molded against Joel’s. His cock weeping and begging for relief, snuggly nestled between your roaring bodies. His skilled hands reducing you to putty.

Rolling. Pinching. Pulling. Flicking.

Each thorough caress sends an intense and deep feeling of delirium surging through you. Building and building the delicate structure for an elaborate release.

“So perfect all laid out for me. You gonna come for me?. I think you’re almost there, Baby. Just need a little more, huh?”

“Joel— I-I don’t think I can this time. N-need— oh fuck Joel! I need a little m-more.”

You’re cut off when you feel Joel’s fingers faintly slide over your throbbing clit and bypassing it completely. He swipes through your wet folds. You think he might finally give in. Plunge one, maybe two of his thick fingers into your aching heat, caress your velvet walls until you’re coming undone. Your body jolts as he gathers your arousal on his fingers, then abandons the ache and returns to his previous ministrations.

His arousal slick digits glide over each of your perked nipples. The wet eager strokes have your back arching as you moan into the room, your body tense and vibrating.

“Joel— yes! That feels so good! fuckfuckfuck! I— I’m so close Joel! D-don’t stop!” You let out a sharp moan.

“I ain’t stoppin’, Sweetheart. So fuckin’ beautiful. Can’t wait to see you come, Baby— just let go.” His hushed words paired with the way he rolls your stiff nubs between his fingers is just the push you needed, your climax vibrant and beautiful as it erupts, spreading through you faster than you can announce its existence.

Joel watches you fall apart in the mirror. Your breathless state has his hips grinding against your lower back as he continues to clutch your breasts. The glimmering beads of sweat rolling down your throat and chest, joining the layer pooling between your bodies.

It’s the view of your cunt that nearly takes him out, empty and pulsating, he’s never been so proud of a sight. He adds the mental snapshot to his backlog of imagery he’ll store of you until the end of his days.

“God, Joel. That— that was amazing!.” You say, peeling your satiated body from his.

Turning to face him, you sit in the space between where his legs are sprawled open, your hands massaging at his calves. You take in how enticing he looks, laid back on the stack of pillows, a slack grin on his handsome face as he slowly pumps his hardened cock.

You’re completely entranced by the sight, all thick and tempting. Biting at your lip teasingly, a hand all but subtly slips between your legs and your fingers begin delicately tracing circles over your clit.

Husked gasps falling from Joel’s parted lips as he alternates his movements. Long languid strokes over the length of his shaft then pausing briefly, his grip stilled and tight around the base as the reddened tip slowly leaks.

You gasp as the warmth of your sex engulfs your fingers triggering another gush of arousal to trickle down your thighs. Your other hand still connected to Joel’s leg, grounding your floating form to him.

Joel's eyes scan you, absorbing your blissed-out state, his hand matching your own steady movements, rhythmically moving over himself, his breaths now emerging as heavy pants.

Your fingers enthusiastically moving in and out with ease as your hips writhe keenly in search of the perfect position. The remnants of your previous orgasm are still lingering, beautifully aiding in the build up of the next. Your brows pinched in pleasure.

The room is dense with sexual humidity. Doused in a mixture of the ambered vanilla candle you burn frequently and a sweet ambrosial musk.

“Fuck— how’d I get so fuckin’ lucky with a woman like you? fuck!.” His tongue sweeps over his bottom lip, neck taut and nose flared as he tries to breathe through how good he’s making himself feel. “Why don’t you— shit —c’mere.”

“Mmm-ah! T-tempting, Baby. ohgod! Think I’ll stay put. I’m actually enjoying the view quite nicely from here. You look so good like this, Joel.” Seeing him accept your praise is a vision you’ll never get tired of, allowing himself to give in and take what he needs.

Your fingers graze over that delicious little spot with success, a cresting wave set in motion, the sensation causing your walls to convulse. A moan escapes your lips, paralleling with Joel’s own sounds. Your head involuntarily tilts back, as you ride out the euphoric moment.

“Shit! Sweetheart, I’m— I’m gonna— Hnng!Fuuuck!”

Joel’s fist erratically pumps over his length, his eyes locked on your naked form, ragged breaths and eager moans. Your eyes struggle to stay focused through the hazy chaos, drawn to his flushed body, paralyzed with an ample dose of desire as he nears his finish.

“Come for me, Joel.” You’ve shifted yourself a little closer to where he’s eagerly working himself over, encouraging him to let go.

He does— white hot ropes of cum paint his stomach, his actions slowing as the last few drops spill over his hand. He breathes out a deep sigh, giving you a lopsided grin as his arms fall to his sides. Eyes heavy with a mixture of lust and love.

“Fuck— now will you c’mere?”

You draw your lower lip between your teeth, now hovering over where his now softening dick rests against his stomach. You don’t break eye contact as you lean down and lick at the sticky mess.

“Goddamn— Ah!” Joel hisses, the warmth of your tongue dragging up the length of his cock. Lapping at the dappled layer of silky brininess covering his lower abdomen, purring with satisfaction as you swallow it.

“God.Damn.” You echo his words back to him, your lips move over his— he groans at the taste of himself still on your tongue.

A slow, content smile forms on your face as you tenderly kiss his neck, followed by a series of soft kisses down his chest and stomach.

“Gimme a minute— just need to regroup and then I’ll be ready to go again.”

“Whatever you say, my love.” Joel’s arms wrap a you and you melt into him. “Or I can draw us a hot bath and we can soak until we’re prunes.” A yawn perfectly placed at the end of your suggestion.

“Sounds like a plan. How ‘bout we nap then soak?” You sleepily hum in response.

"Love you, Sweetheart," Joel whispers, before pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“Mmm— love you, Joel.”

[admirationandromantics]

Chris's Little Sister

Can you write something about Josh dating Chris’s younger sister? -anon 

Of course I can!! I think one of the best ways to incorporate the reader into the group would actually be through a sibling relationship. And like… brother’s best friend? Now that’s something I live for. I did take some inspiration from Friends, just felt like it fit. Anyways, enjoy some headcanons for this one (already written one story today, and prepping for Christmas, so don’t have that much time).

And yeah, I still got a couple of requests in my inbox, but please bear with me. I do have things to do, but will get to them when I have the time. Enjoy <3

Chris and Josh met in third grade, so no wonder that when Chris brought home this beautiful little guy, you had heart eyes. You didn’t dare to talk to him, even when he initiated the conversation. You hid behind Chris or your mom, just observing them as they played. 

As you grew older, you developed more of a friendly relationship, this was your brother’s best friend after all, you weren’t gonna fuck it up. Chris brought you when you went to the Washingtons, and you mainly spent your time with the twins. 

Of course, Josh had a soft spot for you. He liked you, felt that he had to protect you, that sort of thing. You didn’t know if it was because you were Chris’s sister or because there was something else beneath. Soon, after a little too much time without Chris, you guys figured things out. 

Stolen glances became signals for a retreat to a secluded make out spot. Secret visits, making sure not to wake his sisters as well. Small touches that no one noticed. Everything felt like fireful passion, and keeping it secret made it even more thrilling. 

Josh has also made a few suggestive comments to his friend, trying to warm him up to the idea. “No, I’m not home that day” “Is your sister home?” “Why does that matter?” “I can think of a few ways we could entertain ourselves” “You’re not going near my sister, I’ll beat your head off, no joke” “Yeah, yeah… I know” 

When the annual winter getaway came, you found yourself with a lot more space and options. You and Josh talked, always away from Chris. I mean, he would actually kill him if he did something. You spent this time being flirty, a few comments here and there, which surprised the bachelor. 

That’s when it suddenly happened. You found yourself pressed up against the wall, locking lips with Josh Washington, your brother’s best friend. But you were caught. Hannah stood like a ghost in the doorway, eyes wide and mouth agape. You both knew you had fucked up. 

“Hannah!” “Don’t fucking talk to me” “Hannah, please!” “Has this been the drive all along? Being my friend, being with me just to hook up with my brother?” 

“You hooked up with Josh?” The colour drains from your face as you hear his voice. Chris, standing there, defeated, looking down on you. Everything is fucked up, everything is bad. “Chris, please hear me out…” 

He doesn’t. He marches to Josh’s room, confronting his friend. “What the hell, Josh!” 

You run inside, putting yourself in between them. “What’s going on?” Josh whispers to you, confused by the raging blonde. “He knows” “Shit”

“How long has this been going on?” You’re both silent, wondering what the right answer to the question might be. A while, a long time. Maybe he’d go easier on you if you said it was just one time? “Oh my god, and you never told me?” He’s looking down at you, disappointment and full of sorrow. 

“Listen Chris…” “Is he forcing you to do anything?” “No!” “Has he manipulated you in any way?” “Absolutely not!” 

He’s still defeated, trying to come to terms with it all. “You have many girls head over heels for you. Why, why. Why did it have to be her?” 

You wouldn’t admit it, but you were kind of curious as well. Why you, of all people. 

“Man, I-I can’t describe it. It just happened. And I’m glad it did. I love her, and we work, we’re good together” 

You both turn your attention to Chris again, and you take hold of his hand, rubbing over the knuckles softly. “I’m sorry Chris, but I feel the same about him” 

“For goodness sake, it’ll take time for me to digest this” “Of course, we understand” “And you feel safe?” “I do” “And he hasn’t hurt you in any way?” “No” 

“That’s a lie” Beth says, standing in the doorway. “What?” “The sounds I’ve heard from his room the last few weeks…” 

The relief turns to fear again as your brother rush to tackle your boyfriend.

[heeseung-min]

[22:00]

Yang Jungwon has been always jealous of his brother. Being first in everything, getting everyone appreciate him, even his parents favor his brother more than him.

"Jungwon, come here. Your brother brought someone. Introduce yourself."

His mother said delightfully. Looks like she is so proud of the person his brother came with. Jungwon rolled his eyes and walked closer to them and finally sees the person his mom was talking about.

Jungwon couldn't explain how he feels at that time. He went speechless when he sees you shyly standing beside his brother while looked at him. His brother immediately introduced your name although that made Jungwon annoyed a little bit because he wants to hear your voice not his brother.

"It's rare for you to bring a girl to our house."

"Well because she is not just a girl. She is my girlfriend."

His mom screamed happily at his brother's remark but Jungwon didn't feel the same. He left the conversation and went straight to the table to dine the food his mom prepared. The dinner went good with his mom asked few questions on you such like when you started dating, about your family, your work and more. The conversation mostly focused on you and his brother. Jungwon wanted to leave the table since he felt his presence is not needed until he heard your voice calling at him.

"What do you do now, Jungwon? Your brother told me you just finished your college weeks ago."

"Um, well I don't have specific job right now. I just do part time when I'm free and at the same time I started planting some of fruit trees at our grandma's garden."

"That's awesome. Is the small garden at the front yard is yours?"

"Yes. I planted some flowers ---"

Jungwon's mother cut him off before he can even finish his sentence. His mom keep asking questions and questions leading to keep your attention focused on her. His brother also didn't care about Jungwon and keep talking between them only. Jungwon huffed slightly and went to wash his dishes before entered his room.

His face flushed when he remembered how focused you were listening to what he said. Usually, his mother or brother didn't pay attention on what he does as long as it's not embarassing their image, it's fine. He felt warm when you genuinely praising him. He loves it.

And maybe he wants it more.

"Do you like the flowers?"

Y/n looked at her behind and found Jungwon slowly walked and crouched beside her and stare at the flowers she was looking at.

"Yeah, the daisy looked so beautiful when I see it in front of my eyes. I didn't expect a man to plant flowers."

"Why? I think planting is really fun."

"Most of men thinking it was too difficult and planting flowers usually done by women. Even your brother thought like that."

Jungwon chuckled when he heard that sentence. Of course, his brother doesn't deserve to have you. Useless prick. He didn't know how to take care of woman properly.

Jungwon and Y/n started to get closer. But Y/n treat him literally like a younger brother and Jungwon is dying to get out of that zone and want more than that. That day, his brother went out to work while his mother was out to visit her friends and Jungwon was pretty sure it will take a long time so he wanted to use the time wisely to spend it with you.

He went out of the room and saw you were sitting in front of the piano on the living room. Seems like you wanted to try to play but didn't know how to so the notes that coming out sounds funny. He walked closer until he is behind you. While you still didn't realized someone has been standing on your behind, Jungwon took the chance to slide his hands on yours and hold it gently. Hearing you gasped and felt your hands shaking a little bit made him smile.

"Jung- Jungwon? What- what are you doing?" You stuttered through your speech. Jungwon didn't say anything but he started to move both of your hands on the piano.

"I'm teaching you." Just a short sentence from him and your tense body slowly relaxing. Little by little, you started to enjoy it and both of you lost in the time playing the piano with each other. Jungwon even taught you some simple songs that you can play on the piano.

"Thank you so much, Jungwon. It feels really nice."

"I'm always here for you, noona."

There are another week left until your marriage with Jungwon's brother. Everything has been prepared but you are still nervous about the ceremony.

"I hope everything will be fine."

"I'm sure it will. We did good so far."

Jungwon's brother reassured you. He knew you are the type to easily get nervous so he did his best to not make it too stressful for you.

"Hyung, can you take mom from her friend's house? She asked for it." Jungwon suddenly said made both of Y/n and his brother looked at him. His brother just nodded and stand up to take his coat before went out of the house.

"Be careful, okay?"

"Will do, baby."

Oh,

Jungwon certainly sure it will not.

Three hours have passed yet your boyfriend and his mother is still not back. Jungwon did told that her mother's friend house is not too far and they should be back in 30 minutes. At first, you tried to stay positive thinking that they may go to somewhere else before going home. However, when your text messages and calls didn't get answer you became paranoid.

"Jungwon, do you think we should go find them?"

"Let me try to call mom's friend first."

Before any of both of you can do anything, Jungwon's phone ringing. He picked up the call and you can read from his reaction, it seems something bad happened.

"Noona....they were in a hospital."

_______

_______

Jungwon's happiest moment in his life was the day he got to married with you. He still can't believe when you said yes to his proposal after few times you've been refusing. The second happiest moment when he decided to sabotage his brother's car that night.

When the doctor announced that his brother and mother did not survive from the car crash, he nearly jumped out of excitement. He had to control himself since you were beside him sobbing uncontrollably. He played his role as a hero so well that you never figure out he was the killer.

"I love you so much, Y/n."

"Love you too, Jungwon."

OH MY GOD YALL🤡🤡🤌HOW LONG I TOOK THIS TO FINISH GOSH SO SORRY FOR DISAPPEAR FOR TOO LONG😞😞i hope yall still didn't forget me

TAGLIST💟: @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount @rowretro @eeunoia @soireegurl @obsessed1with1straykids

[soleilnewspaper]

Chocolate and wet dog fur

series masterlist

Summary: You're having a terrible start to the morning and then you get caught staring at two of the prettiest boys in school. Surely it could't get worse. Oh but it those. While learning about Amortentia, your feelings are revealed to the whole class.

Pairing: poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

Warnings: friendly teasing, slight angst, being in love with two people, feeling alone, feeling scared and/or panicked

Word count: roughly 2k

AN: This is my first time posting a piece of my work, so I apologise if it isn't the greatest. However, if you do enjoy it, please reblog or like it. Also, feedback is always appreciated and welcome!!! Thank you taking the time to read this. I truly hope you have a wonderful day. 💗💗💗

You had always prided yourself on being early, exceptionally early at that. Yet with each minute that passed the image you had seamlessly perfected for the world to see threatened to slip through your fingers.

Firstly your magically enchanted alarm didn’t go off. If that was not already bad enough, your roommate took over forty five minutes in the bathroom this morning, leaving you with barely any time to shower and brush your teeth, let alone try make yourself somewhat presentable. Thank god for magic, and for the knowledge of enchantments from one beautiful blonde Ravenclaw who taught you all her secrets. Although she would never dare admit it.

After what felt like nothing short of an eternity, you managed to make it in time to the great hall before breakfast ended.

Your glaze wondered around the room for a few moments before you spotted your friends in the midst of a sea of green and sliver. A soft smile made its way to your lips and you began quickening your pace. There towards the end of hall on the left side where your friends in the midst of conversation. Your bag hit the wooden table with a soft thud, and you took your seat at the table. The chosen table for the group of friends on this particular morning.

You then let out a sigh that you were not quite sure how long you had been holding in for. It felt comforting to be in the presence of your friends. Earring you an arched eyebrow from the younger Black brother across the table.

“What’s the matter, dearie?” Pandora asked, while absently playing with the petals of a flower from the gardens.

“My alarm didn’t go off, and my roommate did gods know what in our bathroom all morning. Then to top it all off, I got caught in a game of exploding snap some first years were playing.” You grumbled in response playing around with the luke-warm toast on your plate.

“How does a witch like yourself, not have an enchanted alarm”. Regulus deadpanned shifting closer to look at you.

“Sod off.” You muttered in response dishing up yourself a plate.

“Don’t listen to him treasure, you look wonderful as always.” Barty added while draping an arm around his boyfriend.

The group of Slytherins and Ravenclaws quickly fell back into their conversation as you finally allowed yourself to take a bite of your breakfast. Your glaze traces the room, before subconsciously falling on two of the prettiest boys in school.

They both sat over at one of the Gryffindor tables, their laughter bellowed throughout the hall. Remus’s lanky frame was hunched over severally decreasing his height. His amber brown eyes were trained on his friends near him. If you look closely, you might just spot the golden flicks on his eyes. Or the way his honey golden brown hair falls in perfect curls around his face. In between laughs he took bites of his peanut butter jam toast. The laughing caused by James dramatic yet failed attempt at trying to flirt with Lily Evans earlier this morning.

You moved your glaze to the slightly shorter boy next to Remus. Oh was he a sight for sore eyes. Non other than Sirius Black, who most recently you cannot stand. Yet he was still pretty.

Strands of black hair falling around his sliver eyes. Dangling around his neck, a tie hang, a truly poorly done one at that. It is not as if he doesn’t know how to do a tie, he’d probably been taught before he could walk. No, this was purposefully done. At least in your mind it was.

The red and gold robes, unmistakably gryffidor draped over his white button down shirt. Multiple rings adorned his long fingers, which were currently being used to try and steal food from his best friend. None other than James Potter. Who was in ‘mother hen’ mode as the boys called it.

You watched the interaction play out between the four boys before returning her glaze to admire her favourite two. Your eyes flick back and forth between them.

There was-

“Are you done staring at my brother yet?” Regulus said coldly with hint of amusement. Of course only for those who had the ability to understand the boy’s affection could detect it.

You snapped her head around at a lightning speed. Causing the muscles in your neck to tingle slightly at the sudden movement. The blood rushing to your checks leaving a rosy tiny. You could feel eyes of your three friends staring down into your soul.

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Reg.” You quickly responded while shrugging your shoulders in attempt to act nonchalant, but you were not fooling anyone.

“You sure there isn’t anything you want to tell us?” Pandora asked, with a welcoming smile that lit up her eyes. Almost tempting you to blurt out your feelings for the two Gryffindor boys.

“I don’t know, treasure you-“

“I was simply observing, is all.” You interrupted before bringing the now cold French toast to your lips.

“We would not judge you if it was more than that.” Pandora reached across the table to gently squeeze your hand, offering a warm smile.

You returned the smile and hoped the conversation would end. A naive thought it was indeed.

“Treasure,” Barty started, as a grin spears across his face which put the Cheshire Cat to shame. “You really can’t be desperate you’re thinking of snogging one of those idiots.”

Your face turned an awful shade of red, matching that of the gyffidor robes. “I-I…you-you…you’re delusional.” You stumbled through your words trying to regain composure.

A roar of laughter escaped Barty. One hand on his heart and the other found its way to her check. “Relax, treasure, only teasing.” He gave your rosy check a few affectionate pats before his hand found Evan’s again.

Pandora shook her head in disapproval to which he only grinned in response. Regulus remained silent throughout it all not uttering a single sound.

A frustrated sign escaped your lips, and you found yourself throwing your legs over the bench to stand up. Opening and closing your mouth several times, but alas to no avail. The four friends stared at you, again.

“I have potions class.” You announced, much to quietly for your liking, gripping onto the leather strap of your bag. “Mr Slughorn will give me detention if I’m late again.”

A chorus of goodbyes were heard as you disappeared down the corridor.

Potions was not exactly your favourite class. You would much prefer the likes of herbology or divination but on the plus side at least you got to see the prettiest boys in school. Not that you would ever admit how pretty you thought they were.

Countless times before, you had gone through all the possibilities and always came to the same conclusion: Sirius is Regulus brother, secondly Sirius and Remus are clearly happy together and you didn’t have the right to come between them. Oh and there was the fact that as much as you thought the older brother was gorgeous, you hated him deep within your soul.

His whole personality is unappealing and the his ego needed a room for itself. Yet you could not deny how you found yourself staring into his eyes when he wasn’t looking. They have that same glow of a night sky.

Everything about him, screams gryffidor, and he is always pulling pranks on you. He truly was the embodiment of his house. Unlike you, who was sorted into Slytherin but almost everyone believes Ravenclaw suits you better.

It was easier if you hated him, far better be that than fall for your friend’s estranged older brother. Your plan worked for the most part. Granted it helped how Sirius seamed to hate you as much as you tried to hate him.

Remus, on the other hand, you required a heavy amount of distancing from in order to keep your feelings in check.

Some might say, memorising his entire class schedule to ensure avoidance is crazy. You, however, prefers to think of it as tactical genius.

The walls of the classroom were lined with pickled animals in glass jars. The winter day was particularly cold and you could practically see your own breath appearing in the chilling air.

“Can anyone tell me what Amortentia is?” The voice of professor Slughorn drew you out of her thoughts, forcing you to focus on the topic at hand. Multiple students hands went up from but no one was faster than Lily Evans. You always thought she seamed kind, but did not like stepping outside of your comfort zone. Resulting in you never talking to her outside of class or the library.

“Amortentia is a love potion which can causes the drinker to develop an infatuation or obsession.”

“Very well done, Miss Evans.” Slughorn smiled at her answer and nodded before continuing. “Now, does anyone else want to add onto Miss Evan’s answer?”

You bit your bottom lip, you knew the answer, and your mother did ask you to try be more active in class this year. Before you could even realise what you were doing, you had been called upon.

“It has a different aroma for everyone who smells it, based on what you find most appealing or attractive.” You stated, hiding your hands underneath the table so no one could catch onto your nerves.

“Care to share what you smell then?” The pure calmness in Slughorn’s tone sent a shiver down your spine. He stepped closer to you which only seamed to make you more nervous. Feeling the eyes of all her fellow students on you. With Gyffidor and Slytherin fifth year students staring, waiting to hear what she finds most attractive, was difficult to say the least.

Slowly you moved to position yourself in front of the cauldron. Few students stepping out of your way. The new found attention on you making you cringe. The aroma filled your nostrils and instantly put you in a sense of tranquility. The mere scent of it was mouth watering.

“I do not have all day, Miss”. Your eyes snapped open and offered a small apology to Slugorn before responding.

“I smell chocolate, smudged bits that you find inside the wrapper of a chocolate bar, a warm fresh cup of tea, and old books…” Your voice trailed off, as you fell more and fall in love with the scent by the second.

Meanwhile, Sirius tightened his jaw quickly recognising the scent as his boyfriend’s. You immediately picked up on it, but refrained from saying anything.

“There’s something else, almost like a second scent.” Your eyes opened harshly, and you found yourself looking at the Professor who seamed to be quite intrigued by this new development.

“What ever do you mean?” The professor asked, it was not very often someone smelled two different kind of scents in the aroma.

“The second one is different to the first, leather, with what I think might be wet dog…fur?” Your voice came out more like a question at the end than you’d like. James snapped his head to face Sirius, who glanced at Remus in response who appeared just as confused.

“And, um, there’s cologne, a deep, musky smell, the one-“ You cut herself off before you could let out the words which would undoubtedly tell everyone who you had smelled. Sirius Black.

Feeling all eyes on you, and suddenly feeling alone without any of your friends in the room. You hastily you grabbed your bag and rushed out the classroom. You didn’t stop running until you reached your dorm room.

The door pressed against your green robe, providing some stability. You place a hand on your chest, feeling your heart pounding against your hand. You took a few deep breaths to try calm your increasing nerves. Your breathing remained uneven and every so often it hitched ever so slightly. You ran a hand through your hair, letting your body slowly crumble to the floor. Pulling your knees to your chest, and wrapping your arms around them. Eventually you felt your muscles relax, and breathing return to normal.

Your fingers played with the tattered ends of the carpet beneath you. Rubbing small circles on the material in soft soothing motions.

God, were you in for it now.

[theemporium]

request for quinn hughes !!

quinn and luke’s childhood girl best friend finally get together during the summer of ‘21, keeping it a secret from everyone but their moms

luke’s bsf even goes out of her way to fly to vancouver to see quinn during the season and uses the excuse “i’m visiting my brother in van” because her brother goes to ubc.

i didn't really specify the summer but thank you for requesting!!🫶🏽

part two

.

“Wait, what do you mean you’re not coming out tonight?” 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you held your phone between your ear and shoulder, your hand occupied with the pasta sauce you were currently making. 

“Because I’m in Vancouver, Luke,” you stated bluntly. “I told you I was coming up ages ago.” 

“To visit your brother?” 

To visit a brother, but he didn’t need to know that. 

“Yeah,” you said noncommittally. “I promise I’ll go out with you and the boys next time though.”

“How long are you up there for?” 

You opened your mouth to reply, only to hear the front door open and shut. You waited a moment before Quinn rounded the corner, something in his eyes lighting up the second he saw you. He went to say something but you quickly placed your finger over your lips before you finally replied to Luke. 

“Probably for a week or so, I’m not sure yet,” you said to the younger Hughes. “Listen, I’ll talk to you later, my brother just walked in—”

“Oh, let me say hi—”

“Bye, Luke!” You quickly hung up before the boy got a chance to say another word. 

You placed your phone down on the counter, letting out a small sigh of relief before you turned to your boyfriend, who was only looking at you with an amused expression. 

“I’m your brother now?” He joked. 

“Shut up,” you grumbled as you turned back to the lunch you were making for the two of you before Quinn slipped out the house to run a few errands. 

Your relationship with Quinn Hughes over the years could be described in one word: nonexistent.

When you were younger, you were nothing but Luke’s best friend that he insisted tagged along to every family event the Hughes family held. When you were in high school, Quinn was the cool, older brother who went off to college and followed his dream. By the time you were in college, he was off in Vancouver, playing in the big leagues and living the life he always dreamed of. 

It just so happened that a fateful night at the lakehouse last summer would be the very thing to completely shatter the nonexistent relationship between you. The second you both saw each other that summer, it was different: you were no longer the little kid tagging along, and he was no longer the older, grumpy brother you barely saw. 

It was different. You were different. 

Late night conversations around the fire slowly shifted into something more, and all it took was a beer or two for confidence before you found yourself rolled between the sheets of Quinn Hughes’ bed. 

And what started off as a summer fling slowly dropped into the autumn months, followed through Christmas and New Years. And now, it was February and you were still going strong. 

Not that anybody knew that—especially not Luke.

“I’m teasing,” Quinn murmured as he slid in behind you, his arms winding around your waist and his face pressed into the crook of your neck. “I do want you to come back, after all.”

Your lips twitched upwards. “A whole week of me not enough?” 

“Never,” he murmured against your skin, placing a soft kiss at the base of your neck because he knew it made you squirm. “Wish you could stay for longer.” 

“Luke would get suspicious if I stayed for Valentine’s,” you sighed as you leaned back in his embrace, wishing that you could stay for longer as well. 

“We could always tell him,” Quinn said after a few moments. 

“I paired up with Jack for beer pong once and he pouted for a week, how do you think he’ll react to this?” You asked. The bond between you and Luke could only be described as platonic soulmates, and that wasn’t something you wanted to lose, even if your relationship with Quinn was everything you could’ve asked for and more. 

“We were younger then,” he retorted. 

“It was last summer, Quinn,” you shot back, and the boy sighed heavily against your neck. 

“I just wish we didn’t have to hide it anymore,” Quinn grumbled, his arms tightening around you. “I’d like to hang out with my girlfriend in public, not sneak around like fucking teenagers.” 

“I thought you said the sneaking around was hot,” you teased. 

“It got boring after month three,” he admitted before he lifted his head, turning you around in his arms so you were facing him. “Let’s tell him. Luke’s a big boy, he can handle it.” 

You pressed your lips together. “You’re sure?” 

“Baby, you’re not gonna lose him over this,” he murmured in a soft, reassuring voice. “He might be a bit fussy, but he’s your best friend. If he sees you happy, then he will be happy.” 

“You make me happy,” you whispered, watching as a small smile grew on his face. 

“Then we’ll tell him,” Quinn nodded. 

“After this trip though,” you said. “I’d rather not spend the rest of my time here with Luke blowing up my phone. I want to tell him in person.” 

“Whatever you want,” Quinn nodded before his eyes darted down to your lips. However, just before he could lean down, you were quickly turning around. “That was cruel.”

“I’m cooking, Quinn, stop distracting me.” 

He raised his brows. “And one kiss is distracting?” 

“With you, it’s never one kiss,” you shot back. 

Quinn huffed out a laugh. “Fine, but afterwards you’re all mine, baby.” 

You bit back your smile. “You got yourself a deal, Hughes.”

.

[fanfictionalraven]

Love Drunk

Title: Love Drunk

Summary: The reader doesn't drink but has never been honest with Dean about it. What happens when he finds out?

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 1,778

Warnings: Alcohol, misunderstandings

Authors' Note: This was an anonymous request. I hope this is what you were wanting, anon. Enjoy!!

It was a delicate process, an art form honestly. You should receive an Academy Award for your performances. Subtly raising a glass or bottle, the liquid never actually coming close to your lips. Managing to make the drink disappear in a variety of creative ways. Your favorite was always switching your drink with Dean’s. He somehow never even noticed his magically refilling beverages. It was more difficult when Sam was around, the always more observant brother. But you hadn’t been caught yet. Why all the smoke and mirrors? The reason was so ridiculously simple but you couldn’t bring yourself to confess.

You didn’t drink.

It wasn’t for medical or religious reasons as most people assumed. You just couldn’t stand alcohol. You never had been able to. Your 21st birthday had been spent on a hunt with your mom while all of your friends used theirs as an excuse to get absolutely wasted. It just didn’t appeal to you. Whiskey, beer, wine…you never touched any of it.

Dean on the other hand…he drank it like water.

You had planned to tell him, especially when the two of you became a thing. But it wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have. Any time you did people assumed you were either sick, pregnant, or a religious nut. So you perfected the art of pretending to drink whenever Dean popped a bottle or cracked open a six pack to celebrate a hunt well done. Like now…

“That shot you took, Y/N,” Dean starts, sliding a beer in front of you. You catch it and smile at him. “It was risky but damn. You nailed it, Sweetheart.”

“Just doing my job,” you laugh, bringing the bottle to your lips. Dean smiles and shakes his head, glancing away. You set the bottle back on the table. Sam sits across from you in the library of the bunker, picking up his beer as well.

“If Dean had listened to me to begin with, you wouldn’t have had to take that shot,” he says. Dean rolls his eyes and you smirk.

“You’re just jealous cause neither of you could have done that in a million years,” you tease. Dean laughs as he takes the seat next to you, his hand coming to rest on your knee under the table. You take another fake drink, gauging the level in Dean’s own bottle. He was already halfway through. Another long drink from him and you could make the switch before calling it a night. You sigh heavily and stretch. “I’m exhausted from picking up ya’ll’s slack all the time.” Dean rolls his eyes at your quip and gives your knee a squeeze before taking the drink.

“Pretty sure I remember saving your ass too,” Dean remarks, setting the drink back down. You roll your eyes but smile as you lean back in the seat, allowing the two brothers to become occupied by their own conversation.

Ever so subtly, you reach for the two bottles sitting just close enough on the table. You pick up Dean’s practically empty bottle slowly sliding your own full one into place. Bringing the empty bottle to your lips, you smile as Dean picks up the fresh one, not realizing anything.

“Alright. I’m going to take a shower. I would recommend you do as well before you come to bed,” you tell Dean, giving him a playful shove. He laughs and shakes his head, watching as you leave the room. When he turns back to continue his conversation, he finds his younger brother frowning at him.

“What?” He asks.

“She switched your drinks,” Sam tells him. Dean looks at the bottle in his head and the one you had left sitting on the table.

“Huh?”

“She did. She took a couple of drinks then she grabbed your bottle and switched them,” he says. Dean picks up the second, empty bottle and looks between the two.

“Why would she do that? This one is completely full,” he says. “Honest mistake?”

“I don’t think so. I saw her. It seemed deliberate,” Sam tells him. 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Dean says, still looking at the two bottles in his hands.

“Unless…”

“Unless what?” Dean asks. Sam gives him a slightly embarrassed look as he shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

“Unless she’s…ya know…” Sam turns a hint of pink. “Pregnant?” Dean stares at his younger brother, unblinking. The two sit in silence for what feels like an eternity before Dean finally pushes his chair back to stand.

“Need some air,” he chokes out, heading for the stairs out of the bunker as fast as he can. Sam frowns as he watches his older brother.

“Oh boy,” he mumbles, reaching to clean up the bottles.

Half an hour or so later, you’ve finished your shower and dressed for bed. You’re just towel drying your hair when there’s a cough at the bedroom door behind you. Turning, you find Dean, his hands behind his back and the goofiest of grins on his face.

“What’s gotten into you?” You ask, laughing. He steps into the room and carefully closes the door behind himself. “I think I like where this is going…” He freezes and looks at you. Confusion and fear mix on his face.

“Is that safe?” He asks. That takes you aback. Is what safe? Is sex safe? Had he completely lost his mind?

“Wh-what??”

“I know,” he says with a sigh. You continue to stare at him in confusion. What the hell was he on about?

“I’m glad someone does. Care to enlighten me?” You ask. He lets out a small laugh as he steps over to you. You realize now that his hands were still behind his back. “What have you got?” He takes a deep breath before holding up the item he’d been concealing. Your eyes widen in absolute horror.

A pink onesie.

Daddy’s Princess written in the most god-awful, golden, glittery script.

“I know,” Dean says again. You take a moment to steady yourself, still trying to figure out what is happening. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you inhale deeply.

“What exactly do you know, Dean?” You ask.

“You…you’re pregnant, right?” He asks. “Sam noticed that you switched our drinks and…”

You cut him off with a curse and collapse onto the edge of the bed behind you. What you had assumed was a masterful performance had been seen through. You were busted.

“I’m not pregnant, Dean,” you confess, running your hands over your face.

“Oh.” He looks at the tiny garment in his hand and awkwardly lays it on top of the desk beside him. Without saying a word, he walks over and sits next to you on the bed. “So…what’s going on then?”

“It’s so stupid,” you mutter.

“Y/N, come on. We tell each other everything,” he says, hand coming to rest on your knee once again. You look up at him and nod. He was right of course.

“I don’t drink. I’ve been pretending to since…since we met. Cause it was easier than having this conversation. No. It’s not because of some religious thing. It’s not because of some health thing. It’s not because I’m pregnant,” you say, giving him a pointed look. “I just…don’t like it.”

“Okay,” he says slowly. He hesitates for a moment before speaking again. “I’m sorry if I…made you feel pressured or anything.”

“No. Dean,” you sigh and shake your head. “Of course not. You didn’t know. You were just…being polite.”

“I…I get that you didn’t really want to have this conversation but…I just don’t understood why you hide it from me of all people,” he says. He was hurt now. You could tell. Of course he was. You’d been lying to him for years at this point. You’d be hurt too.

“Honestly?” You ask. “It…just…seems to be…a fairly large part…of your life…” You say the words slowly, trying to find the right ones. You don’t want it to sound like…

“Are you saying I’m an alcoholic?” He asks. That. You didn’t want it to sound like that.

“No. Of course not. I’m just…saying…” You frown more. “You seem to like it as much as I dislike it.” He nods as he mulls this over for a moment. You bite your lip as you watch him, hoping you haven't overstepped.

“Does it bother you?” He asks. “How much I drink?”

“Sometimes,” you admit. He nods once again then shrugs his shoulders.

“Then I’ll cut back,” he says. You stare at him in disbelief and immediately try to disagree but he holds up a hand. “Hey. If we’re really committed to this, to us, then we gotta compromise, right? That’s what couples do. If I’m doing something that bothers you, I need to fix it.”

“You would do that?” You ask, suddenly on the brink of tears. It was such a sweet gesture, you almost couldn’t believe it.

“I’m not saying I’m going cold turkey or that I’ll ever fully stop but…I’ll ease up,” he says. You smile widely as you throw your arms around him. The two of you fall back onto the bed, tangled up in each other’s arms.

“Everyone else has either laughed me off as being childish or just didn’t care about my opinion at all,” you tell him. He smirks and shrugs.

“That’s what you get for comparing me to all those losers in your past,” he teases, squeezing your sides. You laugh and try to get away but he only pulls you closer. Your head comes to rest on his chest and you sigh heavily.

“Is there anything I do that bothers you? It’s only fair I ask in return,” you say. He’s quiet for a moment as he thinks.

“Yea, actually,” he says. You look up at him, expectantly. “Your clothes are highly offensive. I don’t think you should wear them anymore.” Before you can even react, he begins to undress you. You can’t help but laugh as he peels your shirt off.

“Idiot,” you mumble before kissing him. His fingers thread into your hair as he deepens the kiss. He finally breaks away from your lips and begins to make his way down your neck to your collarbone. “Thank you for understanding,” you tell him softly.

“Of course,” he says between kisses and gentle nips. “Besides…I’d rather just be drunk on you.” You throw your head back laughing and shake your head, pushing away from him.

“No. No, that was way too cheesy. I’m out,” you tell him. He gives you a crooked smile before quickly flipping you onto your back on the bed. You had to admit…getting drunk on Dean was just your kind of wasted.

***

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

Jensen Tags: @call-me-mrs-winchester

[tojiluv]

EYES DON'T LIE — choso kamo [chapter ten]

description: in which a girl unwittingly becomes involved with a handsome stranger in a club, oblivious to his true identity of being in a famous boyband… OR in which you and Choso must conceal your secret meetings from your friends and his bandmates, especially from his younger brother and your best friend, Yuji.

warnings: nsfw MDNI. fem! receiving. vaginal fingering. praising. doing it in the car. swearing. choso calls you 'angel' & 'pretty'. choso's a tease.

notes: i know i said i come back in two weeks but that didn't happen lol, so sorry! i'm back now and hope this chapter makes up for it, especially for being the longest chapter i wrote (4000+ words). this is my first time writing some form of smut, so bear with me as it may be cringe.

Yuji was home.

Yuji's return sent shockwaves through the house, jolting you and Choso into a frenzy of panic. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, propelling you to disentangle from Choso with a racing heart, desperately attempting to compose yourself.

Choso's eyes widened in alarm, his mind racing for a solution as he cast furtive glances between you and the entrance. "Shit, hide!" he stated urgently, his voice barely audible amidst the impending footsteps, while he frantically attempted to groom his disheveled appearance.

Grabbing your bag, you hurried towards the nearest door, your mind racing to find a hiding spot with limited options. With no choice, you slipped into a nearby closet near the kitchen entrance, your heart pounding as you closed the door behind you with a barely audible click. In the darkness of the closet, you pressed a hand over your mouth, struggling to steady your breathing as you strained to listen for any indication of Yuji's presence. Outside, you heard the muffled sound of Choso's greeting, his voice strained as he feigned nonchalance.

"Hey, Yuji! Back so soon," Choso remarked, his tone forced and unconvincing.

"Yeah, the game ended early. Thought I'd swing by and relax," Yuji replied, his footsteps drawing closer to the living room where Choso awaited.

Your heart raced even faster at the approach of Yuji's footsteps, dread pooling in the pit of your stomach as you silently prayed that he wouldn't uncover your hiding place. Peering through the slits of the doorway, you watched as your best friend casually dropped onto the couch, tossing his bag aside with a heavy sigh.

Meanwhile, Choso attempted to maintain his composure, engaging Yuji in conversation to divert his attention away from your concealed presence. Yet, beneath his facade, you detected the strain in his voice, a palpable tension mirroring your anxiety.

Choso quickly glanced at your hiding spot before turning his attention to his brother, feeling a bit relieved that he was distracting Yuji. He knew the risk of being involved with you, especially as Yuji's best friend, but he was willing to take that chance. Everything had been going well, and he was determined to keep it that way.

"I thought you were crashing at Megumi’s tonight?" He inquired, trying to coax his brother out of the room and assist your escape.

Yuji glanced away from the TV, his brow furrowing in response. "Didn’t you want me to come back after the game?"

Choso cursed inwardly, realizing his mistake. Indeed, he had instructed Yuji to return home post-game. If only he had known about your arrival beforehand, he would have urged his brother to prolong his absence indefinitely, especially considering the recent developments between you and him moments earlier.

Meanwhile, you attempted to remain utterly still, refraining from making any sudden movements, alarmed even to shift within the confines of the cramped closet. Your gaze remained fixed on the sibling duo, observing Choso's persistent attempts to usher Yuji away.

Yuji scrutinized his older brother, his expression puzzled. "Are you alright?" he asked, noticing Choso's unease.

The older male nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, why?"

"Because you're acting all jittery," Yuji pointed out, his keen observation catching Choso off guard. He waved a dismissive hand, attempting to brush off his brother's concern.

"Nothing's wrong, just thinking about something. Don't worry about it," he replied, hoping to divert his attention elsewhere.

Yuji hummed, though he was not entirely convinced, he opted not to pursue the matter further. Shifting in his seat, he felt an unfamiliar object pressing against his back, retrieving it from beneath the couch cushions. As he held up the item to inspect it, Choso and your hearts plummeted.

A Cherry Flavoured Lip Gloss.

"What's this?" Yuji asked, scrutinizing the lip gloss before turning his gaze towards his brother for an explanation.

Your eyes widened in realization, fumbling through your skirt pockets only to confirm that the lip gloss in question indeed belonged to you. It must have slipped out during the make-out session with Choso on the couch, the intensity of which had him tugging at your clothing.

"Shit…!" You mouthed, worried by the unfolding scene. However, matters only escalated as your previous movements accidentally shifted a broom, causing it to collide with the closet wall with an unmistakable clang.

You stifle a gasp, your heart pounding furiously, as both Choso and Yuji swivel their heads toward the source of the disturbance. One wears a concerned expression, while the other's face contorts with dread, drained of color by the knowing sound.

"What was that?" Yuji questioned, rising from his seat.

As Yuji began to investigate, you held your breath, every passing second feeling endless and dreadful. The closet felt increasingly suffocating, the darkness closing in as you awaited the approaching confrontation. At one point, it felt as though your eyes met Yuji's through the doorway as his hand was inching towards the closet door. You instinctively pushed deeper into the confined space, your stomach churning at the thought of facing your best friend.

"It's mine!"

Choso interjected loudly, blurting out anything to stop his brother's movements.

Yuji turned around, tilting his head curiously. "Huh?"

"The lip gloss, it’s, uh.. mine…" Choso mumbled, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment.

"...Really?" Yuji's skepticism was noticed as he inspected his brother.

Choso nodded curtly, averting his gaze in mortification. "Y-yeah! I’m experimenting with a new look for the upcoming tour."

If only you weren’t in the closet, you might have laughed at Choso's awkwardness. Yuji merely nodded, though there was still some uncertainty. Sensing his brother's weariness, he let it go, thinking Choso's strange behavior was just because he was tired.

He moved away from the closet door, giving you a moment of relief, and gave the lip gloss back to Choso, who quickly put it in his pocket, his cheeks turning slightly pink.

"Well, I won’t judge you for that," The youngest chuckled. "I'm heading upstairs to get some rest. Are you staying down here?"

Choso let out a tired sigh, exhausted by everything that had happened. He shook his head and said, "No, I think I'll go out for a bit. I'll be back soon."

“Alright then. Stay safe, big bro!”

As the pink-haired male climbed the stairs and said goodbye to his brother, he vanished from sight. Finally, the sound of Yuji's fading footsteps brought a wave of relief, and you slumped against the closet wall, letting out a shaky breath.

Outside, Choso quietly exhales, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion. "That was way too close," he murmured, his voice barely audible from where you stood.

You stayed silent, wrestling with the weight of the close call. The realization of the dangerous situation you had narrowly avoided washed over you, along with a surge of guilt. What were you doing, sneaking around with your best friend's brother behind his back? However, amid your self-reproach, you couldn't ignore the inexplicable attraction that had drawn you to Choso, like a moth to a flame. The memory of his lips on yours, his touch sparking a passion within you—it lingered, weaving a spell that defied rationality.

Outside, Choso's voice pierced through your thoughts, breaking the hold of your internal turmoil. "Are you okay?" he asked, his tone soft with concern.

"I'll manage," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "But what now?"

Choso glanced towards the staircase before cautiously opening the closet door. His gaze lingered on your lips, noticing a hint of misplaced lip gloss staining your skin, before returning to meet your eyes.

"I'll take you home," he stated simply, though his conflicted expression betrayed his words. "It's best to avoid any further complications with Yuji around."

You inwardly sighed, acknowledging that he was right, as you swiftly emerged from the closet, hurrying towards the front door with Choso in tow, grabbing his keys.

Disappointment gnawed at you, realizing that your attraction to the dark-haired male had only deepened, though now you were uncertain if you would get another chance to pursue it.

The car sliced through the darkness, tension thickening the air. You stared out the window, watching the lights blur past, lost in your thoughts. Confidence had deserted you when Yuji returned home, leaving you too shy to speak to the man beside you.

Choso's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his jaw clenched with resolve. Annoyance creased his features, stark against his usual carefree demeanor. You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed by the sudden predicament or regretting your earlier interaction.

The silence hung heavy, broken only by the engine's hum and your heart pounding. Each moment dragged on, tension and desire simmering beneath the surface. As the car slowed to a stop outside your apartment complex, you felt his gaze linger on you. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you turned to face him, your gaze lowered.

Then Choso spoke up, his lips twitching slightly. "Cherry lip gloss, huh?"

You looked up at him, perplexed. "What?"

He fished the item from his pocket, handing it to you with a small smirk as your eyes widened. Reaching for it, your fingers brushed against his for a fleeting moment before you pulled back.

"Oh, yeah..." you muttered, examining the product before sighing. You felt a bit deflated from the previous encounter, yet it seemed like Choso knew exactly what you were thinking.

He chuckled softly, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as he glanced at the cherry lip gloss in your hand. "Well, I guess we can say that's one way to leave a lasting impression," he quipped, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

You chuckled a bit, nodding in agreement. It struck you how such a small thing had left a memorable impact for both of you, despite the fear you both felt in that moment. You were grateful that Choso took the situation lightly, easing the tension with his playful banter. As a result, you felt your shoulders relax, the weight of the previous tension dissipating.

"I don’t know what to say, but I’m sorry if I caused any problems for you," you said, wanting to make sure he wasn’t upset.

“No need to apologize. You didn’t cause anything, so don’t think like that,” he reassured you. Choso leaned back in his seat, ruffling his hair that was out of his usual style before gracing you with a grin. “Then again, I do believe you owe me one,”

You raised a brow, crossing your arms. “What for?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, I did tell Yuji that it was my lip gloss,” Choso admitted with a smirk, recalling the earlier exchange.

You remembered that but decided to play along. Humming, you shrugged, “I never heard you say that. Are you sure this isn’t exactly yours?” Choso scoffed, seeing through your playful act. “You’re funny. But nope, it's not mine. I ain’t a cherry type of guy.”

“What’s wrong with cherries?” you mused. Despite being home, you didn’t even think about leaving, not wanting the night to end just yet as you continued to engage with the older male.

He shrugged, “Nothing, just not my preference.”

“Well, I think you’re missing out. It's one of the best flavors to use,” you stated, opening the tube to apply a bit on your lips since it was rubbed off earlier. Unbeknownst to you, Choso gazed at your lips as you applied the product before closing it and putting it away.

He hummed, tilting his head before shifting closer. “Really? If you say so, maybe I should try it.”

You were a bit surprised but didn’t question him before pulling the lip gloss from your purse without a thought. “Oh, sure! Just be careful with the– Hmph!”

Choso's sudden movement caught you off guard as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. Before you could react, his lips captured yours in a gentle yet intense kiss, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins.

Time seemed to stand still as you melted into the kiss, the world fading away until there was nothing but the heat of his lips against yours, the soft brush of his fingers against your cheek. The taste of cherry lip gloss lingered on your lips, a sweet contrast to the fiery passion that ignited between you.

In that moment, nothing else mattered except the intoxicating sensation of being lost in each other, the weight of the world lifted as you surrendered to the irresistible pull of desire.

As the kiss deepened, a soft sigh escaped your lips that mingled with Choso's ragged breaths. Every touch, every caress spoke of longing and longing, a silent promise of the passion that simmered just beneath the surface.

The kiss soon turned into a heated session, your hands gripping his hair to pull him closer before moaning in his mouth as his hands slid down your backside to land on your skirt, gripping your ass in the process. Not caring for any peering eyes, you moved across the console to jump into his seat, maneuvering onto his lap as he roughly pulled your body against his own, the kiss barely breaking off. Your body felt too hot in a way that you didn’t want to lose the feeling, continuing to chase each other’s lips with much urgency.

You didn’t expect this to happen at all, especially after the incident with Yuji, as you thought maybe Choso didn’t want this to continue due to the close call. Yet, he proved you wrong, and you were glad he did, especially from the way he made sure to show you.

Pulling back a bit to catch your breath, Choso took the opportunity to glide his lips against your neck, nicking and licking at any surface he could get as you whimpered from the sensation. You could feel his lips tug up against your pulsing neck, knowing he was grinning from the way you reacted to him. Your body shifted, grinding against his lap, feeling that prominent area rising from your movements as Choso let out a low groan.

Your hand left his hair to grip his chin, pulling him away from your neck to capture his plump lips back to yours, humming in contentment from the way he felt against you.

Feeling his hands move past your skirt bottom, you knew what he was implying and were eager to feel it, too lost in the feeling of his touch. Choso pulled back from the kiss, his breath heaving a bit as his eyes were narrowed with a tint of desire swirling in his dark purple eyes. His other hand lightly tapped your waist as he tilted his head, amused from seeing your desperate expression of wanting to be touched.

”You want me to touch you, hm?”

You nodded fiercely, shifting your body lower to obtain some friction to attend where you needed it the most. But Choso wasn’t taking that as an answer.

“Use your words, angel.”

His words sent another wave of electricity through you as you gulped, trying to not melt into a puddle from the way he was looking at you. Swallowing the saliva that collected in your throat, you managed to speak, voice raspy from the heat that pooled in the bottom of your stomach. You tried to grind on him once more, whining as he kept you still by tightening his grip, a chuckle escaping his lips as he tsked.

"All you need to do is say the words and I'll give you whatever you want.” His deep, husky voice sent another jolt through you, the heat growing stronger and making you almost feel lightheaded.

"Choso, I.." Your voice trailed off, feeling a bit too shy and embarrassed at the situation to continue. But he was persistent, continuing to stare at you with an expecting look.

His thumb caressed the corner of your tinted cherry lips, waiting for your answer patiently. "Come on, angel. Don't go quiet on me now."

Gasping out as his other hand softly pushed and rubbed against your core, you bit your lip and allowed your eyes to flutter, needing him so badly.

This was torture.

“Please..” you whined lowly, rubbing your hands up and down his clothed chest.

He hummed. “Please, what?”

”Please touch me, Choso!”

Choso smirked proudly and cupped his hands against you, pushing your underwear to the side as his fingers skillfully spread apart your throbbing and dripping core. Just a single press against your cunt made you twitch and squirm, eager to feel more. He slid his finger up and down for a bit, enjoying the reactions he pulled from you, anticipating to see you come undone by his hands. He placed a finger against your swollen clit, pressing and rubbing against it a bit harsh and fast, causing you to buck into his hand at the sudden sensation.

“Already so wet for me,”

He glanced at you, keeping eye contact as pleasure spread throughout your body. You wanted more, needed more from the older man under you. You let out an airy gasp as he pressed further into your skin, pushing for more friction that made you shiver as you could feel yourself becoming more wet, watching him through your heavy eyelids.

His eyes, God, his eyes.

He never once looked away as he continued to torture you with his touch, not wanting to miss any reaction he received. Choso loved it all and didn’t want it to stop.

"Please, Choso... Stop teasing..."

You grind yourself further onto his hand, an action Choso couldn't ignore, especially the way your arousal coated his fingers. With a small nibble on the tip of your ear and his hand traveling up the front of your body, slipping underneath the shirt you were wearing to tighten his grip, you began to roll your hips along his wrist, silently begging for him to fuck you with his hands.

He eventually caved, curling two of his fingers inside your slit, the stretch adding another dimension of pleasure and turning you into a wailing mess. A drawn-out moan was heard throughout the entire car as you thrashed on top, back arching against the car’s steering wheel and fingers digging into his clothes.

"Look at you. So responsive and beautiful. Just for me."

His deep voice sent another shudder down your spine, your thighs quivering and threatening to close shut around his hand. Your hands moved towards his shoulders, gripping and holding onto them for dear life.

You couldn't speak, couldn't think, couldn't breathe. All that mattered was his fingers stretching out your cunt.

Choso watched in pure lust and hunger, a fire igniting inside him as his hand worked and pumped against your slit. You looked like a goddess with the way you were riding him, the way your lips parted and let out such sweet sounds, the way your chest heaved, the way your eyes were hazed over with pleasure, the way your nails dug into his shoulder, the way your head leaned forward and rested against his chest.

It was an erotic sight. And only he could see you like this.

You felt his thumb circle against your sensitive bud, the pressure sending a shiver of pleasure coursing through your body. It felt so good, and the feeling of his fingers moving inside of you made it even better. You couldn't help but let out a small whimper as his thumb pressed against the nub harder.

"You like that?" His voice was low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You couldn't do anything except moan and nod, too overwhelmed with the sensations running through your body. His fingers curled inside of you as your walls clenched around his touch, your breath coming out in ragged gasps.

“More..” You whisper breathlessly, too focused on the feeling to not notice his cunning grin.

“More, huh?”

How could he say no to your pretty demands?

It felt better than you expected as he picked up the pace, adding a third finger, slamming himself into your wet walls and pressing deep and far as his thumb rubbed against your swollen bud, sending your mind spiraling.

“Yes.. yes! Fuck, just like that!” you whimpered, a hand gripping the back of his head while the other slid down his shirt, feeling how toned his chest was and how it felt familiar in your hands.

His fingers continued to pound into you, deep inside your cunt until he curled them upwards, hitting that certain spot that made you moan much louder than before, panting heavily. Opening your eyes, you made eye contact with his heavy-lidded ones that swelled with much yearning from your position. Despite the position, you suddenly became shy from the intense contact before shoving your face into his neck, planting kisses that made him tilt his head for you to get more room as he sighed from the feeling of your lips.

He kept hitting all the right spots that made your toes curl and lips press harder into his irritated skin, letting out a few curses to show how much he affected you deeply with just a touch of his hand.

“S-shit, Choso.. Right there!” You paused the assault on his neck, placing your forehead on his broad shoulders for support, concentrating immensely on the sensation. The only thing keeping you from falling apart was his arm that gripped your waist firmly to hold you up.

The vulgar wet sounds of your cunt were loud, echoing through the car that filled with gasps and moans. The slurping sound of the wetness and the feeling of your velvet walls fueled Choso’s desire to make you cum on his lap. He groaned at the way your pussy swallowed his fingers whole, showing him just how much he affects you with just three fingers, and thought about how different it would be if it was cock inside you right now instead of his hands.

Fuck me. Choso knew the next time he saw you, he certainly wouldn't be only using his hands and especially, won’t be doing it in the car.

You suddenly felt that familiar feeling approaching, causing you to move your hips to align with his movements, chasing that exciting sensation as you moaned out his name.

“I’m so close… I– Ahh, Choso!”

This woman… Just the way you moaned his name got his cock stiffening harder than before, causing him to sweat a bit more from your shameless words that filled the car with your scent and breath. He could feel your walls clenching against his fingers as he continued to pound faster causing you to pull away from his shoulder, knowing you were approaching your climax.

You suddenly felt him release two of his fingers out of you, leaving only one as you whined from the loss of contact till you gasped. He replaced the loss with his fingers circling your clit faster to make you cum, leaving you in a moaning mess from the adrenaline. Eyes closed, you withered against his aggressive but fluttering touch. “Choso..!”

“Look at me…”

Yet, you didn’t hear his words at first, too focused on chasing your high. You felt the pressure building inside of you, something that you've felt once before with the very same man in the car at a different time.

You were close, so close.

"C-Choso.. I'm.."

He knew what you meant, his pace picking up as he pumped his fingers inside of you, his thumb circling your bud in a quicker motion. You were so close, the pressure rising inside you. You felt his other hand grip the back of your head, pushing it forward to his face as he repeated himself.

“Open your eyes for me, pretty.”

His deep tone forced your eyes to peel open, maintaining such passionate eye contact that your body withered from the tension. You knew at that moment that he wanted to keep his eyes on you, to watch you cum messily all over his hands.

And then, with a few more strokes of his fingers and a flick to your sensitive clit, it finally came undone.

The feeling washed over you as your body quivered, not paying attention to anything but the man in front of you that made you feel like you were on cloud nine. You didn’t even notice that your movements buckled you to hit the horn on the wheel behind you for a second, too lost in your overstimulating pleasure.

“That’s it, cum for me.”

You let out a loud moan as your walls clenched around his fingers, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you rode out your orgasm. Choso continued pumping his fingers inside of you, his thumb still circling your bud. You could feel your juices coating his fingers as they continued to work inside of you.

As you calmed down from the high, your chest heaved with small breaths as your tired eyes laid heavily against Choso's intense and dark purple orbs, the gaze making you shudder a bit.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful."

Choso's lips roughly found yours as his fingers slipped out, a groan of protest leaving you from the empty feeling. But his lips distracted you as he placed a hand on the side of your cheek, tilting your head back as his tongue found its way inside. The feeling of his tongue exploring and swirling against your own had you weak, knees buckling and nearly falling back if it wasn't for Choso's arm that caught you.

As you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed with desire, you found yourself gazing back into Choso's eyes that reflected the same hunger and lust that burned within your heart. For a moment, you simply sat there, lost in the aftermath of the kiss, the world around you fading into insignificance as you revel in the intoxicating rush of emotions that pulsed through your veins.

Your thoughts paused, breath hitched as you watched Choso bring the very same fingers that were just inside of you to place on his wetted lips. Sucking on each one individually to get a taste of you, he hummed in delight before pulling them out, licking his lips.

Choso leaned back in his seat with a satisfied smirk. "Well, I guess that settles it," he utters, wiping the smudge gloss from your lips.

"Cherries aren't so bad after all."

⇽ chapter nine | chapter eleven ⇾

© 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐯 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

[lemon-boy-stan]

THE BATTLE OF LIONS AND SNAKES - R.A.B

As the first wizarding war draws near, the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin becomes even more visible. You'd thought that being James's sister and a Slytherin would change things, but it only made things worse. Pairing: Regulus Black x fem!Potter!reader. Genre: fluff, some angst. Warnings: pureblood supremacy, war talk, slightly dark themes? Swearing, Sirius being a dick. YN calls Sirius a cunt.

The Potters and Blacks were, perhaps, two of the most popular wizarding families at Hogwarts; along with the Malfoys, Prewetts and the Notts. Yes, being pureblood had it's privileges, but it was popularity that put James Potter and Sirius Black on the map.

James and Sirius were the kinds of people that no-one disliked. They were good at sports, funny, daring, and over-all good natured people. They might not have the best grades like Remus Lupin or Lily Evans, but they were damn good at making people laugh, and no-one seemed to mind if they lost any house points.

When the Sorting Hat was sorting you into your house, it had mentioned Gryffindor. Out of all the houses, Gryffindor was the house to be in. Gryffindor made stars, and was home to many famous witches and wizards.

James was a leader. He became Prefect in his fifth year and Head Boy in his sixth year, and was the youngest Quidditch player in a hundred years to be made Captain of the Gryffindor team. He was a good friend - always loyal, always listening to the side of everyone's conversations, always making sure everyone was involved. He was a gentleman - when he had his heart set on someone, he knew exactly what to do and how to treat her right (in the later years, of course). Your mother and father were extremely proud of him.

You yourself were somewhat similar, as his younger sister, but you always envied him for finding most things in life easy. James had every opportunity laid out for him. You, however, had to work hard if you wanted something, sometimes twice as hard as the average student; hence why the hat placed you in Slytherin.

Being in Slytherin and being a Potter caused quite an uproar your first year at Hogwarts. Everyone in Slytherin had a bone to pick with James, based on whatever prank he and his friends had done on the house. Because of this, everyone had some kind of opinion on you, except for the first years, who knew nothing better but to be your friend.

You had met your first ever friend on the Hogwarts Express. James had brought you to sit with his friends, the "Marauders", as they liked to call themselves. You'd spent two Christmases with them before coming to Hogwarts, and honestly, they were pretty stuck-up, especially Remus, who was some sort of care-home yob, and glared at you every time you spoke.

Eventually, you left the carriage, telling James you wanted to make some new friends. He didn't mind, and jokingly told you not to make friends with the "wrong sort", although you didn't really know what that meant.

All of the carriages were full of people who looked older than you and scarier. You walked further down the train, wondering why some students were staring at you. You ignored them, looking through all of the carriages. Finally, after quite some time, you came across a carriage that was almost empty.

A small boy was sitting on the left side of the carriage, reading a book about Ancient Runes. You smiled, he looked so peaceful compared to everyone else; and he was your age. You put your hand to the door and knocked. He looked up, frowning.

The small boy put his book down and got up. He opened the door, "what do you want?" His dark eyebrows furrowing in confusion. You smiled apologetically, "I was just looking for a place to sit. My brother and his friends are a bit annoying." The small boy looked you up and down and stepped aside. "You can sit with me."

"My brother and his friends are a bit stuck up, too. I met them on the platform. My name's Regulus, by the way. Regulus Black."

Your eyes widened. This was Regulus Black? The brother that Sirius Black despised so much? Well, he didn't seem quite so decietful and troll-like after all, but perhaps siblings just disagreed with each other. You wondered why he was all by himself.

"I enjoy my own company, normally, but mother said to make friends. You seem like a respectable enough witch... Would you mind telling me your name?" You tried not to giggle at how Regulus spoke. You'd never heard a ten-year-old speak so posh before. You smiled, "YN Potter, nice to meet you."

Regulus's eyes darkened but he shook his head. "You're not bad for a Potter. Let's be friends." Regulus Black held out his hand, and you shook it, sitting down next to him.

The train continued to move through Scotland. "I'm afraid I'll be put in Slytherin," you said after awhile, putting your head in your hands, "all of my family's been in Gryffindor for thousands of years, but the other day dad joked that I was more cunning than bold."

Regulus looked at you, "I think what you did earlier was pretty bold." You scoffed, "what, asking you if I could sit with you?" He grinned and nodded, "yeah. Do you know how many people avoided me just then before you got here? Even in the Slytherin carriage they think I'm some sort of a freak." You frowned, "I don't think you're a freak. You're just a regular kid to me."

Regulus pulled a face, "I'll have you know I'm the second heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, an extremely respectable and non-regular young wizard." You let out a snort of a laugh, "what kind of kid has to be respectable?!" Before covering your mouth. Regulus smiled at you, "the ones who don't snort like that." You giggled.

Regulus started to get more comfortable. "All of my family's been in Slytherin for thousands of years, just like how yours is with Gryffindor. When Sirius was put in Gryffindor two years ago mum went absolutely ballistic. Maybe I might be put in Gryffindor too, but I think I'll probably be in Slytherin... I wish I was brave enough to run away."

You snorted again, "I wish I was brave enough to be in Gryffindor." Regulus laughed loudly. You turned to him, "if I am put in Slytherin, it won't be so bad if I'm with you." And he smiled.

And you were right. With Regulus by your side, you found it easy making friends in first year. Everyone in Slytherin was a pureblood, and was either scared of him (which you thought was truly ridiculous) or they respected him.

As the years went by, it was clear to most people that the two of you were as close as two peas in a pod. You were often seen together so much that on the rare occasions where you weren't together, you were asked where the other one was.

It was in your third year where you realised your feelings for the youngest Black brother was not just those of friendship, but something much stronger. As your crush grew and your Slytherin friends teased you about it, you began to worry and think of what would happen if you were to date Regulus, and what would happen when your big brother and his best friend found out that you were dating the little brother that he despised so.

And in fourth year, as if nudging these events into reality even further, you and Regulus began to date. In fifth year, the two of you became prefects and Quidditch Captains, and it was clear that you were a powerful unstoppable couple. Despite this, however, some people still did not agree with the dynamic of your relationship.

It was during lunch in the middle of your fifth year did the rivalry between Slytherin and Gryffindor really take its poll.

The war was almost in full motion, and it was obvious to anyone with brains that Voldemort did not have good intentions. There had been whispers in the Slytherin Common Room of some older students who had joined Voldemort's side through some kind of ritual.

James and Sirius were convinced that Regulus was one of these people, and as usual, had convinced themselves that they were right.

"What exactly are you trying to say, James?" You snapped. Your older brother put his hands up in surrender. "Don't get mad at me, I'm just the messenger. Padfoot thinks you should reconsider your relationship with Regulus, that's all." Merlin, were you glad that Reg was out in the pitch training. Sometimes his mad Quidditch obsession was a good thing.

You turned to Sirius now, "you think that, do you?" And Sirius shrugged. James jumped in quickly, keen to stop an argument from happening.

"Well you know how Padfoot's family are all very... Traditional," James was picking his words carefully, watching your facial expressions, "and he told me the other day that his folks had been talking about some dark lord for a long time, like, ever since second year, and how they were all going to join him and support him, and Padfoot was just saying-"

"Regulus is bound to join up!" Sirius butted in. James turned to him and sighed. You looked at him. "He means well, but he's easily coeerced into things, and he's always trying to impress mother, and they always brainwash him, I mean, just look at Bella."

You scowled. Sirius's parents may have been horrible people, but that didn't mean everyone else in his family was. Okay, perhaps one or two of his cousins had done some nasty things in the past, and Bellatrix was one of them, but you would always remember her as the girl who cursed some older students for boxing your ears. She'd said any friend of Regulus was a friend of hers and that you could count on her.

"Bella is a perfectly kind and respectable witch. She's really nice, actually." Sirius rolled his eyes at this. "Well, whatever, but don't come crying to me when your boyfriend has suddenly run off to join Voldemort. I'm telling you, all of them are like that. You know, at least ninety percent of Slytherin house are evil!" Sirius threw his arms up and you began to fume.

"But you always forget the main thing, don't you, Black?!" Typical Sirius Black to hate something but to leave an exception. "I'm a Slytherin too! You think we're all just so evil, do you? You think all of us want to join Voldemort? Since Regulus apparently will, maybe I will to PROVE YOU WRONG, you righteous, narcissistic cunt!"

Lily and Marlene gasped but you didn't care. Sirius scoffed even louder. "Oh, that's rich, coming from YN "I don't want to be a Slytherin" Potter! But I suppose after snogging my dear brother everything's fine, is it? Suppose the death eaters will just have to snog you to convince you to join up-"

"CONFRINGO!" The Gryffindors shrieked loudly at the sudden spell. Sirius flew backwards, knocking down the students who were sitting next to him and you knew who it was immeadietly. Regulus was always rather powerful with his magic.

Sirius got up and glared at his younger brother, taking out his wand. Regulus held his chin high, "don't you say a word against my girlfriend." And Sirius scoffed. "Is she really your girlfriend, or is she just someone who you lock lips with in your bed? LEVICORPUS!"

You dove infront of Regulus just before you saw Sirius wave his wand, but forgot to take out your own, and now you were hovering in the air. James let out an enraged roar, getting up. "WHAT THE FUCK, PADFOOT! DID YOU JUST CURSE MY FUCKING SISTER?!" You didn't think you'd ever heard him be so mad before.

Sirius glared at him, "I was trying to get Regulus, but the little weasel doged it just like everything else in his life!" You tried to fight the enchantment, "GO FUCK YOURSELF, BLACK!" kicking at the air. The other students laughed.

"Expelliarmus!" Regulus flicked his wand and Sirius's wand flew out of his hand. "You're just as bad as mother," Regulus hissed, "cursing an innocent person." Sirius rolled his eyes, "oh, I'm as bad as mother? Who's the one still grovelling about her knees and begging for her admiration?! Who's the one who-"

"CAN THE TWO OF YOU JUST SHUT UP AND PUT MY SISTER BACK? FINITE INCANTATUM!" James wove his wand angrily, and you fell back down to the ground. The school had stopped laughing now, and were all just watching intently.

Regulus turned to you, "are you okay?" You dusted yourself off and nodded, "I'm good." You turned to Sirius. "Not that it's any of your business, but Regulus is my boyfriend and I love him. So if you can't deal with that you can just get lost."

James looked the two of you up and down before nodding solemnly. He turned to you, "YN, Regulus, I'm sorry. I didn't see it before, but I do now, and I can tell that you're in love. So, what I'm trying to say is, if you want to be together, I don't have a problem with it anymore." James nodded at Regulus, who still looked a bit taken aback that he was being addressed.

Sirius scowled, "I still do."

This time it was Regulus who rolled his eyes. He then turned to you and grinned, "since you've got such a problem with it, Sirius, watch this." You looked at Regulus in confusion before getting the memo and grinning. Regulus smiled too, grabbing your waist and leaning in, kissing you on the lips. Slytherin house cheered as the others stared in shock.

Sirius scoffed in disbelief, "whatever." And you smiled, kissing Regulus again. James made a sound, "you better remove Regulus from my sister, Padfoot, or you won't have a brother anymore." You giggled softly, threading your fingers through Regulus's dark curls before looking up into his green eyes and pulling away.

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

NAVIGATION

[flowerandblood]

The Prince and The Fox (3)

[ modern! • Aemond x friend! • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, mention of sexual abuse, violence, trauma ]

[ description: After the events of her childhood, despite her best efforts, her neighbor and the younger brother of her friend Helaena, Aemond, does not want to know her. This state lasts until a house party organized by his older brother, Aegon, during which an incident occurs that will change their relationship forever. Slow burn, angst, toxic ex-Alys, rough Aemond. This is several anon requests combined into one fic. ]

WARNING: The main plot between the characters takes place in high school. Yes, in high school. The belief that teenagers wait with an intimacy when they are in love in high school is ridiculous to me. Aemond and the character here are the same age. Don't ask me how old they are, in my country you are of the age of consent in your first year of high school and an adult in the last year of high school, so if it is more convenient for you, think about it that way and decide for yourself. In this story, I am not following the trail that they are magically friends right away, but how they become friends and what that even means. I'm writing this fic to give the perspective of young, lost people, not adult women who want to see exactly themselves in everything they read. If that's all you expect, this isn't the fic for you.

I don't want whining about this in my comments or asks. I will delete these and block you. You have been warned. Aemond + Evans Series Moodboard

This is my first story that has its own playlist, but yes! Get in the mood! Story Music Playlist. Song used in this chapter: Don't Bring Me Down by Electric Light Orchestra.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

From that day on, they both took off their earphones when they stood together at the bus stop. Her presence had apparently stopped being awkward for him and he had become addicted to listening to Kajagoogoo, although he admitted it reluctantly.

"They have a terrible band name, but that bass is fucking awesome. They got really into my head and it's good to listen to them in the background while doing something else at the same time." He muttered, without looking at her, scrolling something on his phone.

She knew this was his way of distracting himself from the stress of the conversation, that he wasn't good at it and pretended to be indifferent, his lips tightened.

Since the whole thing reached the headmaster of the school the matter became very serious and Cregan was not laughing anymore. The headmaster became very concerned about the whole situation and even though it was not the school where the sexual abuse took place, bullying did.

On the corridor cameras, Cregan could be seen knocking her over by propping her up with his leg, as one of his buddies scratched the word 'liar' with his key on her locker.

Although these were not crimes for which you could go to jail, the principal invited her to an interview accompanied by the school psychologist. The headmaster asked her if she wanted someone to accompany her during this talk and she said without thinking: Aemond.

She surprised him when she asked him to go with her to his office, he was the only one to witness it all and she was afraid to be there alone. He just nodded and answered nothing, clicking something on his phone, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

They went there together.

The director approached the matter with understanding and quoted to her what he had heard the day before from Aemond.

"Your colleague told me that he witnessed the incident and that there is video footage of what happened. I also know that Cregan's classmates nag you a lot because they prefer to believe him. The psychologist and I thought that, if you agree, we would give his class some shock therapy and show them the part of the video that shows him hurting you.

Of course, we will only do this if you agree, however, we believe that if Mr Stark loses his credibility, you will regain your composure and be able to focus on your education rather than the unpleasant incidents you continue to face from them. We know that the footage shows nothing of which you would be ashamed, nor of course your exposed body." He concluded, glancing uncertainly at the lady psychologist.

She didn't know what to say, she could feel her heart pounding hard.

"Think it over calmly. It's just a suggestion and you don't have to do it. We want to help you and we know it's hard for you." Said the psychologist in a soft, calm voice.

She looked apprehensively at Aemond, who was staring at her out of the corner of his eye with his lips tightened, himself clearly not sure what he was thinking.

"It's your decision. You don't have to do it. But I think this bugger deserves it. He walks around the school like a king, he thinks you don't have the guts to show it. That you'll be embarrassed when he's the one who should be ashamed of himself." He said lowly, and she thought with pain that he was right.

Why should he spread rumours about her, lie that she wanted this?

"Fine." She mumbled, the headmaster sighed quietly.

"Do you want to be there when we show them this?" He asked lowly, and she shook her head quickly.

"No."

She delivered an excerpt of the video to the director that next day. He and the lady psychologist watched it to make sure that the video would not portray her in a negative light and make matters worse, but what they saw left no illusions.

She knew that the headmaster would go to Cregan's class with the psychologist at their advisory class and throughout the day she felt like she was going to die, her whole body was trembling, she hadn't eaten anything and she was cold.

As she sat during one of the breaks outside the classroom, staring dully at the floor Aemond sat down next to her and sighed, taking out of his pocket her favourite chocolate bar, Milkyway, which he must have bought from the school vending machine. She looked at him gratefully and shook her head.

"Have you eaten anything today?" He asked lowly and she shook her head again, lowering her gaze.

"I won't swallow anything. My stomach has been hurting since this morning."

"Hmm."

They sat side by side like that, their shoulders and knees touching, not speaking until the bell rang announcing that the break was over.

They sat down to their benches, the teacher came in, but she couldn't concentrate on what he was saying, terrified.

Everyone was watching it now.

She covered her face with her hands, thinking that she had made a mistake, that it would get worse.

However, to her surprise, as she walked out of the classroom she was approached by several people from his class who had also thrown unpleasant comments at her earlier, including his buddy, who shouted to her and Aemond at the time whether they were going to go fuck.

They stood for a moment as if they didn't know what to say.

"Hi. We saw the video. I…fuck." Said the boy, scratching his brow with his thumb, pale, embarrassed, horrified. "I…I really believed him. I swear to you I would never have suspected he was capable of such a thing. When I watched you pull away from him and he wouldn't let you go…fuck, a red light should have lit up in my head earlier as he said he was going to fuck you, but I thought, I don't know, that's what you want, that you're into him, not that…"

He stammered, all red, she could see he was barely holding back tears. He shrugged his shoulders.

"And yet I acted like a stupid piece of shit to you. Then, after all of that. I believed my mate, I thought I knew him." He said without looking at her, his other colleagues nodding.

"We're ashamed. He walked around talking about it as if nothing had happened, as if it was just your imagination. He cried in class as the principal came in and said what he was going to show us. I think he realised he was going to lose a lot of friends."

She looked at them all with her heart beating hard, scared and ashamed at the same time, not knowing what she should say to them.

Most of all, however, she felt relieved.

They had finally left her alone.

If she could consider that something good had come out of all this, it was certainly her relationship with Aemond. They only talked on the bus or while waiting for him at the bus stop, usually about school, teachers, homework, or music.

He played her songs on his earphones when she asked him if he could recommend something new to her, however, he always listened to Kajagoogoo with her on the way to school.

She liked the fact that this had already become their routine, something they shared, proof that they had established a bond, this time unforced, desired from both sides.

She found to her surprise that he was actually a very sensitive, calm man.

She really liked him.

Helaena was very concerned about all that had happened, and wrote to her often to find out how she was feeling. She didn't want to impose on her and didn't visit her at home.

However, one day she asked if she would like to stay with her for the night and sleep in her room, talk about everything that was on her mind and then watch Shrek together or another cartoon they loved as children.

She thought it was a good idea.

She arrived at the appointed time in the evening, Alicent opened the door, smiling warmly and embracing her.

Since the situation with Cregan it seemed that their families had become closer, her parents were extremely grateful to Aemond for what he had done and always greeted him when they saw him on the street or in the shop, embarrassing him.

She saw Helaena run out from over her shoulder and wave to her, holding two bags of their favourite Chips and a carton of orange juice.

Walking towards the stairs she swallowed loudly as she saw the exit to the garden, feeling an unpleasant tightening in her pit and a cold sweat on her back.

She squealed when suddenly Vhagar ran out at them from upstairs, wagging her tail and barking, happy that they had a visitor, almost knocking her over.

"Vhagar!" She heard his impatient, low voice. "Come back here! Immediately."

Vhagar ran up to him, looking at him with her big, pleading black eyes, and he sighed as he stroked her fur. She smiled at him as she passed him, they threw each other a brief, shy 'hi' before she disappeared with Helaena into her room.

Although she didn't want to at first, she felt she had to get it out of her, that she couldn't take it anymore, that it was poisoning her from the inside.

They were both sitting in their pyjamas, T-shirts and shorts on her carpet, a bowl full of crisps and two glasses full of juice between them.

"At first when he touched my thigh I thought − gee, maybe he really likes me that much that he can't stop, I don't know. I felt, I sensed something was wrong and I'm mad that I didn't push him away then! I went outside with him because I thought maybe I don't know, he wants to sit with me in an embrace, stroke me, hold my hand, kiss me. And when he slipped his hand under my dress, when he squeezed me, when he wouldn't let me move or pull away I felt…" She stammered, feeling her voice break, her throat tighten, tears gather in her eyes.

"…God, I just felt that I was very afraid of him, that it was very bad and terrible, that I didn't want it, that he was hurting me, that it was such a bad touch, I don't know how to describe it." She mumbled, Helaena looking at her with her lips slightly parted, her eyebrows arched in pain, her light hair tied up in a bun.

"It felt like I couldn't breathe, it felt like I wanted to scream, like someone was skinning me, it's this feeling of sudden panic, but also something else, like deep in your lower abdomen, this all-consuming fear and terror, like the air is stuck in your throat and you can't catch your breath." She muttered quickly, shaking her head, refusing to let the tears flow, her lips tightening.

"I don't know how he can think it's nothing. To live with the fact that I asked him to stop and he didn't." She shrugged her shoulders, Helaena got up and sat beside her, embracing her, letting her lie on her thighs.

She burst into tears when she started to stroke her head, when she told her that it wasn't her fault and that no one blamed her, that just because she hadn't pushed him away at first didn't mean he had the right to do what he did, that he had done it deliberately and premeditatedly, that no meant no.

She shuddered and lifted her gaze when she heard movement near her room, as if someone had moved out of place, and then the quiet sound of a door opening and closing.

Was he listening to what she was talking about? Was he eavesdropping on them?

She pressed her lips together, lowering her head, feeling ashamed.

She said she would go to the toilet to bring herself to order, but in fact she went to his door, hearing from it the song he had shown her a few days before, 'Don't Bring Me Down' played by the Electric Light Orchestra.

She knocked loudly and heard that after a moment the music quieted, someone's footsteps on the other side.

He opened the door and looked at her in surprise, involuntarily glancing down at her bare legs and then at her face again, swallowing loudly.

"Were you eavesdropping?" She asked reproachfully.

He pressed his lips together, looking away.

"Yeah. I'm sorry." He said low with sincere regret. "I wanted to know how you were feeling. How you're coping with it."

"Can't you just ask me?" She said regretfully, looking at him with her eyebrows arched in pain, feeling the tears under her eyelids again, emotionally unhinged from what she had recounted.

He looked at her surprised, she could see that he was uncomfortable. He let out a loud breath.

"I'm not good at this. At talking. I didn't know if I should ask. Whether it was the right thing to do. I don't know what more I could say." He muttered, shrugging his shoulders, looking everywhere but at her.

"You can ask me anything you want. I trust you." She said softly, and he swallowed loudly, as if for some reason her words caused him pain, as if he wanted to say something more, as if he had something on the tip of his tongue.

She waited patiently for him to pull himself together, for him to think through what he wanted to say. He looked at her.

"I hated you all these years. I hated you because I saw you as a person who does everything for show. For show you baked me cakes to make you feel good about yourself, for show you came here and apologised to me, always loud, always first everywhere, you always had to have your opinion about everything." He said low and fast, and she felt the cold sweat on her back and the frighteningly strong pounding of her heart as she looked at him in disbelief.

"When I heard what Cregan said to his mates I thought I should warn you. To say: be careful, he's planning something more, he's talking about you to his mates as if you were an object. But I didn't. Because I didn't like you." He muttered and she saw his lower lip tremble, his healthy eye red, his breath hitched.

"If I told you, it wouldn't have happened. Do you know how I have you saved on my phone?" He asked in a trembling voice, a single tear running down his cheek.

"Foxy."

She felt tear after tear begin to run down her face, she drew in air loudly feeling tightness in her throat, she felt like someone was tearing her heart from the inside out, a strange, broken sound came from her chest.

"Please, hug me." She mumbled so pitifully that his face contorted in a grimace of pain and regret, he pulled her to him instantly and she clamped her hands on the material of his Tshirt, sobbing loudly, his arms wrapped around her tightly on each side.

"− I'm sorry −" He muttered in a low, hoarse, breaking voice. "− I'm sorry −"

She lifted her gaze to him, trying to catch her breath, and he lowered his head to look at her, their faces almost touching, their hot breaths surrounding their skin.

She felt something strange looking at him so closely, she thought he had a lovely eye colour, that he had fine cheekbones, a pleasing nose and forehead. Something changed in his gaze when he noticed that she glanced at his lips and found them surprisingly full, they looked soft, slightly parted in his accelerated breathing.

She felt his body tense up, felt his fingers clench tighter on her back. All she could hear was the loud pounding of her heart and their breaths, nothing more.

"− wanna kiss? −" She heard him whisper, as if it was a kind of casual proposal, as if he was asking her if she felt like eating something or going for a walk.

She swallowed loudly, glancing at him again, and simply nodded.

She didn't have time to take another breath and his warm, soft lips were already on hers, she felt his hand on the back of her neck which drew her close, making his job easier, he sighed as if with some kind of relief.

She had never suspected that kisses were so wet and sticky, so noisy, but she didn't want him to stop, so she stroked his scarred cheek with her hand, closing her eyes, mimicking his movements, brushing her lips against his with a loud click.

She tightened her second hand in his short, light hair, feeling the heat in her lower abdomen, feeling the pulsation between her thighs, his lips wonderfully soft, moist and firm, he brushed and sucked her fleshy skin, their breaths loud and drawn out.

"− fuck −" He growled out between one loud click of saliva and the next, panting along with her, their kisses increasingly deep, intimate, passionate and wet.

They pulled away from each other suddenly, breathing as if they had run a marathon, looking at each other in disbelief.

"− I − are you all right? −" He mumbled, his healthy eye wide open in panic.

She just nodded, feeling that she looked just like him. She moved away from him and he let her go immediately, running his hand over his mouth and chin in a gesture of disbelief.

"− I − fuck −" He muttered and they both gasped when they heard the sound of the door opening, Helaena leaned her head out, clearly worried that she hadn't been back for so long.

"− are you okay? −" She asked loudly, surprised, and she nodded, looking up at him with her heart pounding like mad, swallowing hard.

"− y-yes − I − I am coming −" She muttered and ran towards her, Helaena smiled at her and closed the door behind her.

She said she had already found Shrek online on her laptop and everything was ready to watch. She smiled and sat down on her bed next to her, trying to focus on what she was seeing, but her thoughts, as well as her heart, were with someone else, a few rooms away.

They kissed.

Good God.

An excellent start to a friendly relationship indeed.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[ray935sworld]

A small favor (Lucalex & Marcmarc)

Soulmate AU Part 3

12.12 Winter writing

"So... Alex..." Marc said, sitting down next to the younger one. "Alex, my beloved little brother, how are you doing? Are you alright? Any pains from the season?"

Alex looked up very slowly. He had a very mistrusting glance at his brother. It was unlikely for him to be that nice. Unless...

"The fuck do you want?" "Whaaaaat? Can't I-" He avoided his brother gaze as his voice hit a high whenever he was trying to lie to his brother.

"Wasting my time won't help your matter" Alex said, putting his phone down, his chat with his boyfriend still open. "Spill it"

Marc sighed. His voice turning serious again. "Okay listen... I need you to ask your boyfriend something" The younger one raised his brows in confusion. "Luca? What the fuck do you need from Luca?"

Marc bit his lips. He knew it was a long shot and maybe weird. But the other alternative would be waiting for months for the season to restart. And then he had to somehow figure out where Marco's soulmark is. Which - judging by his social media photos - wasn't on his chest or any other more or less visible place. It also wasn't on the down parts of his legs, leaving only the area that's covered by shorts.

So just like his own.

The sword was placed high up on his thigh. It was easy to cover up if wanted.

He would either have to catch him mostly undress - preferably undressed by him - or he'd have to tell him.

But soulmark were personal. They were too intimate to be brought up in a conversation between coworkers that didn't know each other very well. And when one hated the other. But -

But between close friends. Friends like Luca and Bez - Or maybe Luca had seen it after all the years or training together. So the only way was to get Luca to spill what he knew or to try and ask Marco.

Luca was right now his only shot. And the only really connection was Alex. So Alex had to ask.

"I think I figured out who my soulmate is" he explained. He had been chewing on the subjects after the birthday discovery for weeks now. And he was sure he had to take that step. "YOU WHAT?!" Alex asked and sat up, his eyes glizzering. "And you asshole waited to tell me?! Who is it? Wait - It's Bez, right? It has to be Bez!"

"Wha-What? How-" he wanted to ask but Alex beat him with a crazy laughter. "I knew it! You have heart eyes whenever you see him! And that whole greeting over the season?! Like come on! Your dignity really jumps out the window when it comes to that one. I mean - Stand up, Marc!"

Marc felt himself blush. That was that with not being suspicious. And he had actually thought no one had noticed that.

"So you have the biggest crush on him. That's why you think he's your soulmate?" Alex continued, his legs crossed on the sofa as he eagerly waited for the whole story.

"Partly... As it turns out his birthday is on the 12th November. And he's born 1998... So-" "The day you got the soulmark!" Alex exclaimed with excitement.

Marc could only nodd.

"So to sum it up - the guy you have the biggest and longest crush on, who is one of Rossi's kids, may I add, but-" "You are dating his brother!" "Ey! That's different. I'm not Italy's most wanted theft. Plus it's not like Rossi could actually hate his own baby brother. So we're save - I think."

It's not like Vale knew. Yet.

"But never mind, we'll ignore that for now. So that guy has the exact same birthday as your soulmate"

"Basically. Sadly the internet doesn't say when Bezzecchi was born. Like at which times." "Sounds like you tried to check. Stalker-" "I am not a stalker-" "You just want to be well informed. I know. So just that I get that right. Based on all that you want me to text Luca - what now?"

"I mean... I don't know what Marcos soulmark is so... Maybe... As a personal friend of his, Luca knows? Or he could ask him? And maybe he tells you and you tell me just to... You know... Support my theory." he explained.

"And so you don't make an absolute foul out of yourself when you spent the whole next seasons trying to woo him without getting your dick cut if my his mentor and pseudo dad that already hates you."

Marc stared at his little brother. He really was wondering why he even liked that little fucker.

"Thank you for the encouragement" he said dryly and got a smile as a response. But when he grabbed his phone, Marc knew he had his support. He typed a few times to start a call.

He had put it on speaker. Marc heard the Italians voice answer after a few rings.

"Hola mi corazon" He decided it was adorable that Luca spoke Spanish with his little brother. He definitely won a few sympathy points with that.

"Ciao tesoro" Alex replied while looking back at Marc. "Listen, sweetheart. Marc is hear and listening, so keep it clean, alright" "Alright" he chuckled. "Yeah I don't need to hear your dirty talk" the brother replied and Luca laughed again.

"Hey Marc, nice to hear from you" The Italian greeted him. "Awe, no corazon for me?" he asked teasingly. "OH shut up, you want something from him, remember?" Alex intervened quickly.

"You want something from me? Is everything okay?" Luca asked confused and Alex quickly explained. "Yes yes. It's just that Marc thinks he knows who his soulmate is. And we need you to confirm it" "Me? And... How?" he asked, the confusion audible.

"We think it's Bez. Like your Bez - Marco Bezzecchi. He has the exact same birthday as Marc's soulmate. And Marc really has a crush on him, like we suspected!"

Marc blinked a few times. Like THEY suspected? So he was part of his brother's and his boyfriends gossip? How obvious had a been.

"That's why we were wondering, you as Bez friend, do you know what's his soulmark? Can you tell us? Please, my love."

Marc was twitching in his seat. Nervously he hold onto his own leg. His hand rested on the high part of his left thigh. If it wasn't for the fabric of his pants, he would touch the ink of sword.

A sword. It had to be a sword. In brown. As brown as Marcos eyes or his hair. Say sword Luca. Say-

"OH. Sure. It's a black skull on his right hip."

The whole soulmate AU

[spliffymae]

barber!sukuna

synopsis: armin and ejirou usually handled the kids that came into the shop. but of course there would be a day when both call in sick, and only sukuna is available to cut your son’s hair.

⚠️ bit of anime crossover, reader is a single mother, fluff

kio’s notes - listen, i be taking my brother to his barber and be getting so many ideas 😭 also got my old school music on so yaktv !!

⊱ ──────── {.⋅ ✺ ⋅.}──────── ⊰

barbersukuna who literally goes to the shop to work and leave. he works alongside his friend geto, and five other barbers—armin, connie, aran, ejirou, and sero. he doesn’t really chop it up with the rest of the guys like that. he’s a bit more to himself, often chilling in the back room with his headphones on in between appointments.

“man, you so lame. you don’t ever smile? laugh at some shit?” connie pesters sukuna as he sits against his station, watching him give a man a box cut.

“say something worth laughing at then, springer.” sukuna says with a gruff, focusing on the back of the man’s neck instead of connie’s comment.

barbersukuna who is very particular about his work station. everything is in its designated spot, where he likes it by order of what he uses most. he changes it according to his appointments for the day. it’s something he takes great pride in and everyone knows not to mess with his shit.

seriously don’t! one time as a prank connie went to each station and swapped their tools. he put sukuna’a clippers with ejirou’s station and the pink haired man nearly killed the younger coworker, connie watching in fear from the background as sukuna held ejirou in a submission leg hold with his red man bun inbetween hair shears.

“why the hell do you have my shit!?”

“please! i just got here!” eji cried, begging geto to remove sukuna and save his hair.

barbersukuna who gets a bit irritated everytime eji or armin have a kid in their chair. the appointment can either go very well, with the child behaving and sitting still, or it can go horrible, with the kid doing anything other than that.

barbersukuna who liked all his clients to be relaxed and able to sit still through a haircut. he would make small talk here and there, but he often was just quiet and let the rest of the shop hold conversations as he made grunts of approval or disapproval.

barbersukuna who specialized in fades, and was the go to for clean and crisp cuts with the utmost precision.

barbersukuna who would hold his breath in suspense whenever sero’s son would wander around the shop and come anywhere close to his station.

barbersukuna who regretted telling armin he would cover his clients for the day when the blond suddenly gets sick from food poisoning, and sees you and your six year old son walk in, asking for armin.

“all armin’s appointments gotta be rescheduled for the day, but if it’s urgent sukuna can take you.” sero points his thumb back to the pink haired man, who was fiddling with his comb in annoyance.

he had seen your son before in armin’s chair. he was squeamish, often playing a “stop, go” game with armin when cutting his hair. a simple high bald fade haircut that should take no more than fifteen minutes, stretched to nearly forty-five because your son had the fidgets.

“he really can’t come in? is the other guy here then…the red one?” you ask sero, a worriedsome look on your face. you had been working double shifts all week and it had slipped your mind friday (the next day) was your son’s school picture day. you had made the appointment last night with armin, begging him to take your son last minute. your son was one of armin’s favorites, so he accepted you with no problem.

the raven haired man clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth, “sorry, love. both of them out sick. the next best for lil’ man would be connie but…” sero turned around from the desk to check connie, who was having a very heated conversation with his girlfriend over the phone. he was speaking spanish, and unfortunately sero heard and knew all of what he was saying.and it wasn’t pretty. “he’s caught up right now.”

you were chewing on your bottom lip, looking down at your son who was sitting on the sectional. he was playing around with an action figure, unaware of your dilemma.

“sukuna is good, (y/n). armin can vouch for him.” sero reassured you.

“s’not like i doubt his capabilities,” you said, looking at sukuna to see him sitting in his chair, scrolling through his phone. “i just don’t trust miles to sit still. armin has a good amount of patience with him.”

and sero completely understood. you had more than enough faith that sukuna could cut hair, you just wanted to make sure he was comfortable with the fact your son would be a handful.

most barbers couldn’t last past ten minutes, so it was a hassle to find armin, who was the best when dealing with miles.

“kuna has patience.” sero lied. he honestly could’ve just stopped helping you, but you were a regular and one of the shop’s favorites. he wouldn’t just give up. frankly, had he not have someone coming in right now he would’ve cut your son’s hair.

“yeah, okay fine. i’m already here and i have no other option. i’ll just tip him extra for the inconvenience.” you shook off your nerves and flashed deep a smile.

“great. sukuna! c’mere!” sero called out. when sukuna came, he gave you a quick glance before looking behind you to your son.

“this miles?” his voice was gravelly, deep. he spoke like he was uninterested, nodding to the direction of your son.

“yeah. i’m his mom, (y/n).” you extended your hand to him, which he shook with a curt nod. he made note of how soft your hands were, and how it was comfortable to hold. as quick as that note was made, he dropped your hand and turned to walk back to his station, gesturing for you to follow him. you got your son off the couch and you two followed sukuna.

“where’s armin?” miles asked sukuna as he crawled in his chair, sitting on the cushion to make him taller.

“he’s sick, baby. but he left sukuna to take good care of you, ‘kay?” you smiled at him, hoping he could understand and not be too effected by the switch in barbers.

“can we still play ‘stop, go’?” he looked back at sukuna. sukuna glanced down at you, looking to you for help. but you were looking at him too, silently pleading he doesn’t ask you to tell your son no.

sukuna had planned to not play the game. he just managed to make a plan that’s fits in all of his and armin’s clients, while still giving him the right amount of break time. he figured you would have rescheduled once hearing armin was out.

but you know the game was the only way miles could sit still. you had forgotten his ipad because you were coming straight from getting him from school, having no time to bring the backup distractions. the action figure wasn’t enough.

“m’not good at games.” he said to miles, who didn’t say anything after sukuna’a rejection. sukuna noticed a pout was now on your brown glossed lips, and he tsked before looking away. you pouting was stirring something within him.

“mommy i want arminn.” your son started to get fussy, his legs shaking and fingers tapping the arms of the seat. if his feet could touch the ground, your sure he’d be spinning around in the chair.

barbersukuna who for the life of him, will do anything if your son could just keep his head still. miles had started to whine and even slide on the chair every time sukuna touched his shoulder, or brought clippers to his hair.

barbersukuna who finally gets your son to cooperate ten minutes later after bribing him with candy, just for the six year old to yell “mommy! i gotta pee!”

barbersukuna let’s out a tiresome sigh as he helps miles down to go to the bathroom. he pulls his phone from out his apron and sends his client a text to come thirty minutes later than his appointment time.

“i’m really sorry about this, i can tell from the times i’ve watched you before you have a very…specific clientele. miles just,” you looked back to the bathroom to see your son hasn’t come out yet, “he just takes a little while to adjust to changes, s’all. armin had made up the game to help him redirect the energy.”

barbersukuna who sees the fatigue in your eyes when you look back at him. you also had bags, your hair was a messy puff of coils with flyaways sticking out. you were wearing a pencil skirt and blouse with black flats. you had to have just been coming from work. he also noted your son was in his school uniform, so you clearly never went home to take a break and change you two out of the day’s clothes.

barbersukuna thinks about how tired you must be from working. he doesn’t know what you do, but he can imagine not getting a break between work mode and mom mode has overwhelmed you.

barbersukuna who shrugs off your apology with a wave, “kids’re kids. s’not bothering me, hun.” the pet name was deliberate. he realized he had come off a tad bit…cold towards you guys. he was used to clients being silent and much older, so miles’ energy was rather new to him. he felt the tip of his ears burn as you put your hand on his forearm, smiling and thanking him for his patience.

when miles came back out, he sat back in his chair but was more to himself. he had his arms crossed and looking at his mom, who was trying to make him to crack a smile by making funny faces as him.

from the corner of his eye, sukuna could see you stick out your tongue and cross your eyes, your funny face getting miles to giggle.

“mama,” miles called out to you suddenly, getting you to stop. “i got a snack for you from school.” he pointed to his black spider-man (miles morales’ spider-man) backpack at your feet. “wendy b. brought cookies for her birthday. i saw the sugar ones you like.”

you held a hand to your heart, looking at your angel of a child. it was heartwarming that he thought of you. so much so that it even touched sukuna.

you reached into the bag to pull out the blast ix bag of treats, two sugar cookies amongst a snickerdoodle and chocolate chip. “oh my goodness! look at these cookies!” you looked over at his smiling and giggling face.

the cookie was soft, it looked to be the consistency you like of hard on the outside but soft on the inside. when you bit into it, your eyebrows raised in surprise. “oh my gosh, this is really good.”

sukuna looked over at you to see you tearing up the homemade cookie. “mm thank you miles. mommy didn’t have time to eat her lunch so this hit the spot.”

from across the room in his chair, connie couldn’t help but perk up as an impulsive thought came to his mind, “yo (y/n),” you looked over at him. his call to you also got the eyes of sukuna, who was trying to get miles to hold his head up. he looked at connie through his mirror.

“y’know kuna is a real stickler when it comes to baked goods. especially sugar cookies, his all time favorite.” he winked at sukuna, who felt that burning feeling in his ears travel down to his cheeks.

he had noticed the way sukuna was looking at you. he had never seen him look at someone that way before and was dying to know if sukuna had an inner dog in him.

“mom give him the other one.” miles directed you before you could speak. connie’s tongue poked out from between his teeth, silently chuckling to himself. he wanted to catch sukuna off guard and make him flustered. a shy sukuna was a rare sighting, and connie felt like seeing if today he’d get lucky.

“feed to em, so he doesn’t stop lil’ man’s cut.” connie suggested, nodding to the way miles had stopped moving once he was focusing on sukuna eating the cookie.

“yeah mommy do it.” miles cheered, swinging his feet in excitement.

“ya don’t have to do that.” sukuna reassured you.

“oh come on, kuna. didn’t you say the best time to eat a cookie is as close to the baked time as possible?” connie continued to push, getting sukuna to narrow his eyes. from the hair washing station, sero couldn’t help but snicker at the situation.

you cleared your throat, “uh i’m good with whatever you want. miles seems to be still so…” you didn’t know what to say. you were getting hot and felt the air become thick.

you had always thought the barbers in this shop were a good set of lookers—some batting from a pretty scale, like armin, to a charming scale like sero, and a mysterious scale like sukuna.

but there was something about sukuna that had him at the top of your list.

sukuna looked down at miles, who was looking up at him with big eyes, “if i eat this cookie and promise to play stop and go w’chu…will you sit still so i can get your hair right?”

his change of heart had come from watching you interact with your son, and the fact he was starting to take an interest in you. you were beautiful, kind, and considerate. you had a sweetness to you that drew him in. he knew he needed to get in contact with you after this. he just knew it.

at the mention of the game, miles’ eyes widened. “really?” he couldn’t believe it. he looked at you to see you were also surprised.

“yeah. but you gotta sit still so that mommy can feed me, okay?” sukuna looked at you with a smile, one that was sly but also endearing.

from across the room, connie turned away from the scene, upset he did not achieve his goal of getting sukuna flustered, and instead managed to help him out in securing a potential date with you.

miles agreed without hesitation, smiling and sitting still as possible with his hands in his lap, under the gown sukuna had over him. “mommy, you ready?” sukuna spoke softly to you, his words creating a shiver to roll down your spine.

“mhm.” you just barely made the sound, smiling nervously as you reached in the bag for the second sugar cookie.

“tell me when to go miles” sukuna said, pretending to get warmed up for the game. he jogged in place, pumping his arms up to ‘feel the burn’. his antics were amusing, and while miles cracked up, you felt your heart swell a bit.

“go!” your son’s scream snapped you out your thoughts, and you instantly brought the cookie to sukuna’a mouth. you held your other hand under it to catch any fallen crumbs.

barbersukuna who takes a small bite from the cookie, smiling as he also starts working on the left side of miles’ head. he had just finished the back before deciding to play the game.

“stop!” miles called out after thirty seconds, giggling as sukuna quickly played it off like he was just checking the time.

“that cookie is good.” he said to you, breaking out into a laugh same time as you. you nodded in agreement.

“okay go!” miles called out, excitement in his eyes as he watched sukuna go back to his hair, while also eating more of the cookie from you.

barbersukuna who texts his next client that he’ll have to reschedule with the haircut but that it will be free of charge due to the sudden inconvenience.

barbersukuna who spends forty five minutes playing “stop, go” with your son while cutting his hair, and understanding why armin takes his time with you two.

[tibby-art]

START telling me about Liam I'll throw up/pos

oh dude dude so liam is kyles younger brother and theyre very close. liam is a pretty nice, easygoing, kinda nerdy but friendly guy who’s had an interest in things like cryptids, aliens, magic, etc from a young age. kyle quickly follows in this interest and they spend a lot of time ‘monster hunting’ in the woods (taking cool photos, practicing bigfoot calls, etc). kyle cares for him a lot and is always looking out for him as an older brother, even if he’s a little reckless and unhinged at times. liam can sometimes be that voice of reason that keeps kyle from doing anything too crazy (and now look at how well kyle is faring without liam to keep him grounded)

liam always did much better in school. kyle is the problem child who skips class and doesn’t pay attention, but liam had great grades and was set to go to college for computer science. kyle doesn’t think very highly of himself, not in a pity-party way but mote of an acceptance? he thinks simply, “im not a great guy, im not good at school and idk what i want a carreer in. my brother is super smart and has a lot of potential, it’s my role to focus on helping him thrive”. looks out for liam, drives him to school, etc.

sidenote kyle’s car is full of marker doodles on the interior and anyone who rides in it can draw on the insides. the passenger seat is full of liam doodles of green ufos and cute aliens and stuff. the car is also named Charizard.

i think kyle is selfless in a stubborn way that ropes back around to selfishness. kyle is so loyal that he would put himself in harms way to protect someone he cared about in an instant. but this isn’t necessarily a Good thing - when you’re an older brother or a role model or any instance of being looked up to, you have a responsibility to take care of yourself too and he is severely lacking in this department. liam is 17 when he goes missing and i don’t think kyle has fully grasped just how mature liam is at this point. liam is worried for kyle and kyle has no idea.

liam goes missing in March of 2009. The campaign begins in September of 2009, 6 months later. this is just enough time that people are beginning to move on from the tragedy, except kyle of course, who refuses to move on/go back to school/get a job until he finds the truth. he puts missing person posters up all over town. he leaves ominous graffiti criticizing the police and reminding the town that people go missing here & no one cares. also another Fun Sidenote is that because liam goes missing in march, he misses his 18th birthday (june 18. hes a cancer i consider these things) and his high school graduation. alexa play wake me up when september ends (i dont think kyle can listen to this song). ever since the disappearance kyle gets nightmares once every week or two i think

hm what else oh yeah so in our discord server for the campaign we have 1-on-1 text channels with the other members where we can roleplay text conversations our characters may have between sessions. i asked jinx for a channel for kyle and liam where kyle can text liam telling him about his adventures and all of his cool new friends who are going to help him find him. liam doesn’t reply of course- wherever he’s gone he clearly doesn’t have access to his cell phone or else the mystery would have been solved a Lot quicker. but i think kyle and liam, despite both having friends in school, were always a little bit of the town weirdos that were way more into fantasy stuff than anyone else. so i think when kyle bonds with the party, he’s happy to have other magic weirdos around him for once, but it also eats him up inside to think about how much liam would like his new friends too. the party visits a cool magical library at some point and kyle has a moment where he just Stares at it all and thinks about how much he would love it. their mother is a librarian and they definitely spent a lot of their childhood running around the library playing & reading while she worked.

something crazy we realized is that every member of the party has a four-letter name (kyle, edie, vera, bill) and also is associated with colors in an order (red, pink, purple, blue). liam’s name also has four letters and his associated color is green. its a spooky coincidence that emphasizes that this person should be here, and their abscence is felt.

so yeah ermmm erm uhh yeah thats how its going!!!!!

liam’s toyhouse page btw