#well... its a NEW school... means i get a fresh start with fresh faces and people...

[astro-inthestars]

AUAUGHHHGHHHAHHHGHHUHHUHGHHH

My school starts tomorrow show's joever :(

[starseungs]

our love untold. hhj.

hwang hyunjin x gn!reader — for those who grew up loved, it eventually becomes a norm to the point that the nuances between its types become untold.

genre/s — fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, college au, fine arts student!hyunjin • 3.1k words

warning/s — miscommunication as a result of no communication, children being mean for no reason lol, not much actually

note — #3 on the your love through the ages series | gave hyunjin the confession of a lifetime so look forward to that ... i want what they have </3

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Hwang Hyunjin has always been a constant in your life. For as long as you could remember, a life without him was practically nonexistent. You had nothing against it, though. Spending your everydays with Hyunjin was a delight. The bond between you two was so strong that your families had no choice but to also become friends just so that they could finally satisfy both of your constant needs to be around each other. 

Fortunately, you didn’t have to do much for that setting to work out well since your families clicked in an instant. A little too well, in fact, that you may have doubted its authenticity more than once or twice during the span of your lived life. Hyunjin had his fair share of those thoughts alongside you as you caught both of your parents eating lunch together on a random Tuesday afternoon—notably without the both of you.

Granted, you should’ve already seen that this was going to happen. You and Hyunjin grew up getting significant amounts of emotional support from your parents, who had big hearts holding lots of love to share. Naturally, birds of a feather would end up flocking together; which could also exactly be said about your dynamic with your best friend. With the way you were brought up, it was almost impossible for you to turn out any more different than the ones who raised you—to which you, to no one’s surprise, did end up adopting their tendency to express love easily towards others. 

If only your younger counterpart knew how hard it was actually going to be to feel reciprocated in society.

You remember the scene like it was just yesterday, with the feeling of the soft play sand being molded by your little hands still fresh in your mind. The local playground sandbox was five-year-old you’s favorite spot in the whole world, just right beside your family home’s living room. It was a place where you felt at ease, happily sculpting clumsily shaped masterpieces from the slightly damp medium as your parents sat on a bench a few meters away, joyfully taking the opportunity to have some time with each other. 

On a normal day, things would stay that way until right before three o'clock, when one of your parents would scoop you up to go home (the parent was often your father, who pitifully had a massive losing streak on rock paper scissors). However, that particular day was unlike any other day you’ve had so far.

The anomalies started with two kids looming over you, their eyes shining with a mischievous glint. Despite the number of times you’ve gone to the playground, you have never actually interacted with the other kids there. Your family had just moved to the area three months ago, and you were still yet to enter an actual school where you could familiarize yourself with nearby children. 

While you did have thoughts of approaching the ones you saw often in the playground, your first attempts at doing so ended less than ideal, with the kids being uncomfortable with you being someone new. Due to that, you stuck by yourself for a while with the mindset that you’d be friends with whoever wanted to approach you instead. And that was why seeing those two children standing next to your sand sculptures instantly put a smile on your face. 

Their words started off innocent—simply asking why you were playing all alone. Yet when you joyfully explained why, your expectations for the interaction took a wrong turn. The two kids started teasing you, saying that you must’ve been really lame for no one to even want to become your friend. 

At first, you were mad. You wanted to let them know that you tried your best to make friends, up until you realized that it was you who wanted to be friends with them too, to which you started to become self-conscious. Thoughts like ‘what if they’re right?’ spiraled in your little mind, making you unable to say much in defense. The last straw was when one of them kicked the little sand house (which, in truth, looked more like a square hill) you were working on, making beads of tears decorate your waterline.

However, the tears didn’t actually drop until a pitched voice of a boy called out to the three of you staying at the sandbox. You watched as the new face marched in a determined manner towards all of you, only stopping in front of the two kids who teased you. Your glistening eyes watched in fascination as he scolded the other two, telling them that they were being mean to you. Thankfully, the whole exchange ended without much issue—the kids then muttered a short apology before scurrying away. The slightly taller boy stared at you before bending down to plop himself in front of your now-ruined sand house.

“Are you ok?” He says, his gaze now locked at the pile of sand between the two of you. 

You could only nod enthusiastically, again happy to have someone talking to you positively. “Yeah,” you said while scooping up a small amount of the fallen sand. “I wanted to play with them, though.”

The boy before you beamed. “I’ll play with you instead!” He reaches for a handful of sand. “My name is Hyunjin. I like the sandbox too.”

That was how your parents found you a little while later, excitedly squealing while clinging to Hyunjin with a vice grip. His parents soon followed suit, joining yours in watching him grin while listening to you plan to build a model of your dream home together with sand. Numbers and words of appreciation were exchanged, officially starting the days with Hyunjin as your closest friend.

Being best friends with Hyunjin was basically like having someone attached to your hip, with the only difference being that you also wanted to be attached to his. If possible, you liked to do everything together—there were meals that were shared at the same table, outings that were done with both of your families, and schoolwork that you did together without even needing a word of agreement. Days, hours, and seconds with Hyunjin were a norm in your life, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Growing up, you never really questioned the comments thrown at the two of you. With how close you two were but looking miles different from each other to be relatives, the common conclusion people normally had of your relationship with Hyunjin was a romantic one. He was often attentive when it came to you—always bringing you snacks for lunch, spontaneous gifts just because something reminded him of you, and carrying your bag like it was the most normal thing in the world. This was often dismissed by him, though, which made you follow suit. After all, you yourself couldn’t see where the thought even stemmed from. You did acts of service for him too. What mattered the most was that you liked Hyunjin as he was, so hanging out with him constantly was reasonable in your eyes.

Well, that was until your first year in college, years after your initial meeting.

“Do you ever think it’s odd?” You start carefully, slowly pulling your hands away from his face after smoothing out his skincare mask. Hyunjin cracks open his left eye to glance up at you from his head’s position on your lap.

“What is?”

You motioned toward the situation you two were in. “That we still hang out like this. Even though we’re not kids anymore.” Hyunjin evidently frowned underneath the mask, slightly creating folds that showed his displeasure.

“No?” He replies, almost offended. “Why would I think that?”

There was truth in his words. Just like he said, why would he be offended? The two of you were never bothered by what others thought before, so why start now? You pursed your lips. Perhaps you were the only one suddenly having an issue.

It all started when you went out for dinner with a couple people from your department. The table talk was just as usual—until they mentioned Hyunjin. Some girls you went to class with expressed their jealousy towards your relationship with your ‘boyfriend', which they described as ideal. Your attempts at correcting them only ended up with you in the hotseat, being grilled like the meat everyone was eating at the moment. There was no way he didn’t have romantic feelings for you, they said. The dynamic they’ve observed so far between you two was too much to be platonic, they added. Their words only added fuel to the fire that was your frenzied state when they asked you to confirm specific scenarios that had happened with Hyunjin, to which they snapped their fingers and yelled out that it was clearly something lovers do. 

But what was exactly so wrong with best friends still having sleepovers in their early twenties? Was there a problem with the two of you making plans just for the two of you that lasted the whole day? So what if he had the tendency to buy you both matching items? Sure, his parents call you often to check in, but isn’t that normal? You’ve watched how your parents treated their other friends with love in similar ways during (limited) times you’ve met them too, so why were you now so conscious of everything Hyunjin did ever since that dinner?

“I don’t know,” you said meekly. “It’s just that I feel like I’m taking too much of your time. These are things you should be doing with your significant other, not your childhood friend.”

When Hyunjin scoffs at your words, your eyes widen. “Well, I don’t have a significant other, and I’m doing this,” he points to his facemask, “with you right now. You can worry about it when the time comes.”

You didn’t know why, but somewhere deep in your heart, you never wanted that time to ever come.

Life always comes with surprises, though. The moment you unconsciously dreaded came sooner than you expected it to—just a whole year after your conversation over skincare in your tiny apartment room. Your fear came in the form of a student shifting to Hyunjin’s major, her skills catching his attention that was normally on the both of you. First came the comments, with Hyunjin complimenting her outputs in their classes together, telling you that the new girl had serious talent and how she should’ve majored in fine arts from the beginning. Next came his gaze; curious eyes always landing on her whenever she appeared in the vicinity you two were in. A growing feeling clawed at the pits of your stomach that made you nauseous every time you saw his interest cement on her. 

How amazing was that for you, because now you had to distance yourself from someone who was basically your other half, just because you couldn’t handle the ugly thoughts you had for your best friend’s happiness. The last thing you wanted was to hold Hyunjin down—he deserved to freely like who liked, and decide who he wanted to be with as he wished. And until your brain gets the memo to agree with it, you were going to stay out of his sight for as long as possible.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was a complete mess. The poor man was lost; the past few nights were spent pondering over what he could’ve done wrong for you to avoid him so obviously like this. It had only been two weeks, but Hyunjin felt as if you had gone M.I.A. for two years instead. He had never gone this long without you, always making sure to contact you as frequently as he could when physically apart. To be fair, you still did answer to his texts, even if they were riddled with ice and coldly cut short. You had gotten skilled at dodging his visits too; always either out of your apartment or having found different routes out of your department’s building when he stubbornly waited outside. A few of your class friends gave him looks of pity whenever they saw him still adamant to see you, telling him to hang in there and that lovers’ quarrels don’t last that long.

Lovers. That was a familiar description Hyunjin has heard over the years of your friendship. He had always denied them politely out of respect for you, but they were always kept in the corners of his mind. Truth be told, the thought confused him endlessly. What was it exactly that others saw in the way he acted that he didn’t? His parents always told him to treat everyone he appreciated with love, and that he did—especially with you. He’s seen the way his father showed his appreciation for his mother and aimed to imitate that (yes, his father loved his mother romantically, but his father also gave gifts to his friends, so what was so different?), but all that ever did was bring suspicion over you two. 

But you were happy with his acts of care, and it made him happy too. Shouldn’t that be the only thing that matters? Clearly, not with the way he was stuck in front of his blank canvas, the eerie color of plain white glaring at him to complete his painting project. Except that Hyunjin found himself completely unable to do so. His mind was barren, with not a single inspiration in mind. And this worried him.

On any other day, he was what you would call the epitome of a creative soul. He saw the world around him in a naturally imaginative way, easily piecing stories in his head from the smallest of things. It was the same reason why he chose to be in fine arts, majoring in studio arts, where he could relay his own vision. In short, Hyunjin had no clue as to why he was even struggling this much. He found himself comparing his skills to those of the new student in his department once again. Oh, how he wishes he could go and ask them for advice—her work served as an ignition for him to do better. 

As one of the best students in the program, he found himself seeing her as a rival of sorts. Not anything negative, though. A healthy one-sided rivalry, if you will. Groaning, he shifts his gaze from the canvas to give his eyes a break, casually scanning his previous works propped up in a nearby corner. As he continued to work his way through them from afar, his mind floated over to think of you. 

In that split second, something seemed to click in his brain.

You watched your clock tick at an even pace, the hands displaying the ungodly time that was judging you for still being awake. Granted, being awake at two in the morning was miles better than still being awake at four, which was just asking for an eventual headache since you still had class in the morning. The past few days have felt odd, to say the least. Despite knowing exactly why that was, you refused to acknowledge it—still hung up on the thought that you should get rid of whatever you were feeling before you would face Hyunjin again. Yet, it was times of the day like these when you wondered how he was doing without you. Probably still well, right? If it’s Hyunjin, then he would have no problem getting along just fine with other people.

A frantic knock on your door made you jump out of your thoughts with the way it echoed through the silent space. Like any other person would, you were automatically on guard. Who in their right mind would visit you without warning in the depths of the night? It was only when you saw your phone turn on with a message notification that you scurried to fling the door open.

“Hyunjin!” You fussed over him, gripping his arms firmly to give him a thorough lookover. “Is everything okay? Are you alright? Did something happen? Does something hurt—no, did something hurt you?” The words seemed to roll off your tongue so easily, preventing you from snapping out of your worries to see what expression he had on. All your mind was telling you was to find a way to chase whatever problem he had far, far away from here, where it could hurt him. But your rambling came to a halt when you felt his body slump against you, feeling the way he shook as suppressed sobs were forced out of him. Alarm bells immediately rang in your head.

“Let’s go inside first—”

“I’m so sorry,” he hiccuped. “I’m so sorry. Really sorry, Y/N. I don’t even know if I’m apologizing for what I’ve done for you to avoid me like this, or for not even knowing why you’re avoiding me in the first place, but I’m so sorry.”

“Hyune, no—”

“I know I can be an idiot at times, but I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you like this,” he said, still crying his heart out. “I was struggling to find something to paint about for my project earlier, and I can’t believe it took me this long to even figure it out. I can’t go on with meaning in my life without you, Y/N. You’re everything to me. You’re my world, my muse, and my light. For the longest time, you have been, and I would even risk saying that you have since the moment we met on that sandbox. All that I am has pieces of you deeply imbedded in my soul, and the reason why I see my surroundings in vibrant colors. Everything reminds me of you, and us, and all the times we’ve spent together and losing you would be the same as losing me. Y/N, I love you in a way I could never give to others—”

“Hyunjin.” You cupped his face, coaxing him to breathe. An imaginary string inside of you stretched and tightened as you looked at his mesmerized face, looking at you like you had hung the moon up in the sky. His eyes showed an emotion you were well acquainted with, yet the intensity and fervor burning inside were unfamiliar to the ones you had felt before. 

This was definitely love. And it was the type of love you had spent the past couple of years pondering. The answer finally came to you. Hyunjin breathes.

“—It’s you, and always will be.”

You closed the gap, the touch of both your lips saying more than what was ever confessed from when you were five to the present.

It was your love untold.

SERIES TAGLIST ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix @xocandyy @heaveniseverywhere @kayleefriedchicken

[lostfracturess]

remedies and reasons | ch. 02

pairing — professor geto x law student reader

summary — this wasn’t supposed to happen. not that miserable internship at the law firm you hated, not him becoming your doctor, and definitely not that drunken night at the bar. but he helped, and god, you needed a friend. and he did too. except it's never just friendship with him, is it? it could be perfect—messy, complicated, but perfect. if only his heart wasn’t already taken.

word count — 12.3 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, age difference (10 years), doctor-patient relationship, smoking, alcohol use, mature themes, and depictions of illness. reader discretion is advised.

author's note — yeeaaaah, guess who's back with a fresh new chapter !! i know, i know, it's been forever since i last posted, but here we go, be prepared to die from second-hand embarrassment. massive thank you to @nanamis-baker for beta reading and calling me out on my plot holes. & as always, this story is a spin-off of symptoms and causes, starting after ch 12. but you can read it as a standalone.

masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

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You never thought you'd find yourself in the chemistry lab on a Saturday morning, but there you were, helping your best friend Megumi set up his experiment for his thesis presentation. 

You were a law student, not a scientist.

The closest you'd come to a lab was binge-watching "Breaking Bad" on Netflix.

But Megumi was your ride-or-die since kindergarten, so when he called you at the crack of dawn, frantically rambling about his professor, his thesis, and some chemical you couldn't even pronounce, you threw on your favorite hoodie and raced over to campus.

"Okay, so where do we start?" you asked, eyeing the array of beakers, test tubes, and Bunsen burners that looked like they belonged in a mad scientist's lair.

Megumi ran his fingers through his messy black hair, a habit he'd had since childhood whenever he was stressed. "Well, first we need to mix these two solutions." He handed you a beaker filled with a clear liquid.

You took the beaker gingerly, as if it might explode at any moment. "You sure you trust me with this? I mean, I don't even remember the last time I was in a lab."

"I have faith in your ability to follow instructions," he said.

You eyed him wearily. 

What have you gotten yourself into?

You spent the next hour mixing, measuring, and occasionally cursing under your breath when something didn't go quite right. As you worked, your mind drifted to your internship at the most prestigious (and pretentious) law firm in the city that had started a few weeks ago. It already felt like the most stupid thing on earth happening to you.

Okay, okay, you had applied there yourself. But you didn't think they would actually accept you. 

Unlucky luck or so.

The first week at Nishimura and Asahi had been a total nightmare. The law world was nothing but cutthroat competition, where even the coffee machine seemed to be judging you. That must have been the reason why you spilled coffee on your shirt on the second day of your internship. And you had nothing to change into. 

And yes, you had a meeting that day too.

But the worst part was that mortifying incident in your first week. You accidentally barged into the wrong office and caught two senior partners in a, uh, very compromising position. Let's just say the image of their shocked faces and scrambled clothes was forever burned into your brain. You swore you'd never enter another office again unless you absolutely had to.

Thank goodness for Mr. Higurama, your advisor. He was the only sane person in this whole place. If it weren't for his calm attitude and genuine support, you'd probably have been back at law school by now, rocking back and forth in a corner.

The third week? Bearable. But worse in its own way. Endless boring tasks and emails that were basically passive-aggressive warfare. And then, just when you thought it couldn't get any more uncomfortable, HR reminded you in week three that you still hadn't turned in your health certificate. 

At least you managed to do that.

It reminded you of a certain—date, or no, meeting? appointment? Or what was it?—You had with your doctor. 

Oh god, what were you thinking?

"Okay, so now I need you to hold this," Megumi said, handing you a graduated cylinder filled with a bright blue liquid that looked suspiciously like something toxic.

"What is this stuff?" you asked, eyeing it suspiciously.

"Just a harmless indicator solution," he assured you. "It'll change color when the reaction is complete."

"Great," you said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. "So, basically, I'm holding a ticking time bomb that's going to turn purple and explode all over me if we mess this up?"

"Not quite. But try not to spill it, okay?"

You tried not to look at the potentially toxic thing in your hand while you rambled to yourself again in your mind. Where were you? Oh right, what the hell were you thinking about going out with the very person who saw your health history? In what world was that appropriate?

"What is it?" Megumi asked, ripping you out of your thoughts.

Just now, you realized that you must have had some weird facial expression, and you quickly straightened it. "Nothing."

He looked at you with a deadpan face. "I think I've known you long enough to know when something is going on.”

You sighed and then started. "I swear, these people at the law firm are the worst. All sharks in tailored suits and ties. Everyone's constantly trying to one-up each other, backstabbing, and throwing people under the bus left and right."

"Sounds delightful," Megumi said dryly.

"Oh, it gets better," you continued, warming to your subject. "There's this one guy, Chad—I don't even know his real name, but I call him that 'cause he's got one of those typical douchebag faces—and he's like the walking stereotype of every jerk law student you can imagine. He's so full of himself, talks down to everyone, and thinks he's God's gift to law or whatever."

"And he's at your internship?"

"Unfortunately, yes," you said, making a face. "He's always trying to make me look bad, steal my ideas, and just generally ruin my day. It's like having an annoying mosquito buzzing in your ear 24/7."

"Sounds like a real charmer.”

"You have no idea," you said with a sigh. "And the worst part is, he's not even the only one. There's this whole group of them—like a 'Chad Pack'—and they seem to enjoy making the rest of us feel incompetent. He's just a spoiled rich kid, and his dad is a big shot at the firm, so he gets away with everything. I can't even call him out on his bullshit without risking my internship. It's like being back in high school with the bullies."

"See the positive, at least you haven't caught any more senior partners in compromising positions again, right?"

"Oh god, don't remind me!" You covered your face with your hands. "I swear, the senior partners can't even look me in the eye anymore—"

You got cut off by a loud pop and a cloud of smoke billowing from one of the test tubes. You both jumped back, coughing and waving your hands to clear the air.

"What the hell was that?" you sputtered, your eyes watering from the acrid smell.

Megumi peered at the smoking test tube, his brow furrowed. "I think we may have added too much of the catalyst," he said, scribbling furiously in his lab notebook.

"You think? Oh god, I'm going to die here."

"At least that would save you from your internship?" he said.

You eyed him, deadpan.

Just as Megumi glanced up, likely ready with another witty comment, the lab door swung open with a bang, startling you both. "Hey, losers!" Nobara's cheerful voice echoed through the lab, her laughter filling the room.

Losers. 

That's what Nobara affectionately calls your little mismatched group. And maybe she's right. You're an unlikely quartet, brought together by chance during your first year of university. Megumi, the chemistry nerd. Nobara, the wild-child pharmacy student. Yuji, the sports freak. And you, the aspiring lawyer who's beginning to question her life choices.

You don't quite fit in with the typical crowds in your respective fields. You guess you could say you were the outsiders, the misfits, the ones who gravitated towards each other because you didn't quite belong anywhere else.

You'd known Megumi since childhood, but you met Nobara and Yuji during the first few weeks of university at a rather uneventful mixer where you were essentially the only people not already in groups.

Yeah, you were losers, but at least you were in it together.

Without waiting for an invitation, Nobara plopped herself down on the lab bench, right next to Megumi's carefully arranged experiment. "So, how's the science project going?" she asked, curiously examining the colorful liquids bubbling in the beakers.

"Just trying to survive Megumi's thesis experiment," you replied.

Megumi raised an eyebrow. "Actually, it's going pretty well. We're nearly finished preparing."

Undeterred, Nobara hopped off the bench and slung an arm around your shoulders. "Blink three times if I should get you out of here."

"Please," you said.

"So, what are you two up to today? Any exciting plans?" Nobara asked, glancing over at Megumi. "We should grab some lunch. Yuji is finishing up his training soon, too."

You glanced at the clock on the lab wall, expecting it to be around 10 a.m. Your jaw dropped. "It's already noon?! How did that happen?"

Nobara grinned. "Time flies when you're having fun, right?"

"Or when you're stressing over a chemistry experiment," Megumi said, scribbling more notes.

You turned to Nobara. "How's that thesis treating you?" you asked, knowing the final thesis was looming over all of your heads. That's why you were all at the university, even on the weekends.

She shrugged. "It's fine, I guess. Boring, but whatever. It's gotta get done." Then, her face brightened. "But hey, guess what? There's this huge party coming up next weekend! It's hosted by some med students from another university."

Megumi and you exchanged puzzled glances. "Why would we go to a party with a bunch of med students we don't even know?" you asked.

Nobara's eyes sparkled. "Apparently, the guy hosting it is loaded, and rumor has it, this party is going to be wild."

"Wild how?" Megumi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Think open bar, live DJ, even a pool," Nobara said dramatically. "Plus, it's a chance to meet new people, expand our social circles."

"You mean meeting future doctors?" you said, knowing that Nobara always dreamed of dating one. She watched way too much Grey's Anatomy. Dating a doctor is probably not as much fun as it seems.

"Hmm, maybe," she said with a sly grin.

You hesitated. Parties weren't really your scene, and the idea of mingling with a bunch of strangers, especially med students with a reputation for being wild, arrogant, and having god complexes didn't exactly appeal to you. 

They probably strut around like they've discovered the cure for brain tumors while the rest of us mere mortals are just trying to figure out how to parallel park. Yeah. No, thank you.

Nobara sensed your hesitation. "Please, do it for me," she said, batting her eyelashes at you.

"Okay," you said, surprising even yourself. Damn, you were really easy to convince. "Count me in."

Nobara squealed and threw her arms around you. "Yes! This is going to be awesome!"

Megumi simply shook his head. "I guess I'm going too, then."

"Now that that is settled," Nobara said, playfully clapping her hands together. "Wrap up your little experiment, science boy, so we can go get some food. I'm starving, and I'm pretty sure she's about to pass out from low blood sugar." She pointed at you.

"Almost done," Megumi assured her, carefully transferring a final solution into a test tube. "Just need to record a few more readings."

Nobara bounced on her heels. "Come on, hurry up! The world is waiting for us!"

Megumi rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright. I'm done. Let's go."

He quickly tidied up his workstation, meticulously storing his precious samples and equipment. Meanwhile, Nobara was already halfway out the door, her excited chatter echoing down the hallway.

You grabbed your bag and followed them out of the lab, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. The experiment was done, lunch was just around the corner, and a wild party awaited you all next weekend. Maybe university wasn't so bad after all. 

Or maybe it was just the promise of mediocre cafeteria food and great friends that made everything seem a little bit brighter.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

After lunch with your friends, you found yourself back in the comfort of your small apartment. You pulled out your paints and a fresh canvas, and before you knew it, hours had passed without you even realizing it. The daylight faded into a soft golden glow as the sun began to set.

You were just adding the finishing touches to your painting when your eyes happened to glance at the clock on the wall. "Oh shit," you said, slapping your forehead with your paint-covered hand, leaving a vibrant streak of blue across your skin. 

You had a... date? No, wait, a meeting... or was it an appointment? Because he was a doctor technically, right? 

Quickly setting your paints and brushes aside, you rushed to the bathroom to clean up, silently cursing yourself for getting so caught up in your painting that you nearly missed the time.

You arrived at the sports bar with a nervous flutter in your stomach. 

This wasn't a date, you reminded yourself for the umpteenth time. It was just a casual meeting with someone you'd recently met. Nothing more. Definitely nothing romantic. No hidden agendas, no expectations. But even though your intentions were purely platonic, you couldn't deny the flicker of nervousness. 

Maybe it was just the excitement of meeting someone new.

Dr. Suguru Geto.

He was your doctor, yes, but he was also intriguing, with his kind eyes and gentle smile. Your conversation seemed to go beyond the usual small talk from the beginning, maybe it was the unusual way you met.

You shouldn't have asked him to meet, a voice in your head nagged. Why did you do this again? Because of his sad puppy eyes? You groaned inwardly. You couldn't even explain it to yourself. It had slipped out before you could stop yourself.

But to your surprise, he had agreed. 

And now, here you were.

The atmosphere in the sports bar was electric. The roar of the crowd, punctuated by cheers and groans, echoed through the dimly lit space. The smell of stale beer and greasy food hung in the air. You didn't expect it to be so crowded. It was a rather niche bar.

A basketball game blared on the numerous screens, and the air crackled with the excited chatter of sports fans. You weaved your way through the crowd, your heart pounding a little faster with each step.

The walls were plastered with sports memorabilia, jerseys of local heroes and faded photographs of past games. The flickering lights of the numerous screens cast dancing shadows on the faces of the people.

Waitresses weaved their way through the throng, balancing trays laden with overflowing pitchers of beer and plates piled high with nachos and chicken wings. Every eye glued to the screens showcasing the nail-biting basketball game.

You spotted Suguru at the bar, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as he focused on the game. His back was to you. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, standing beside him and mirroring his gaze towards the screen.

"Think they'll try a full-court press now?" you said.

"I doubt it," he replied, not looking away from the screen. "They're already down by ten with only two minutes left. It's too risky."

"True," you agreed. "But they need to create some turnovers fast if they want any chance of a comeback."

"You know your basketball." He finally turned his head, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Hi," you said, raising your hand in a half-hearted wave and immediately regretting it when you realized how awkward it felt and let your hand fall to your side. You slid onto the stool next to him, the vinyl squeaking slightly.

"Oh hi," Suguru said. "Sorry, I didn't even realize it was you. Didn't expect you to be into basketball."

"My dad played in university. Some of it rubbed off on me, I guess."

Suguru then waved at the bartender. "What do you want?" he asked you, smiling.

You watched him take a sip of the beer in front of him. "I'll have the same," you replied, returning his smile.

The bartender, a burly man with a handlebar mustache, nodded and swiftly retrieved a chilled bottle from the cooler. With a practiced flick of his wrist, he popped the cap and set it before you, the condensation already forming tiny droplets on the smooth glass. You took a sip.

You couldn't help but notice how good Suguru looked outside the clinical setting. His usual white coat and scrubs were replaced by a casual outfit that somehow amplified his attractiveness. 

His long, black hair was pulled back into a half bun, a few stray strands framing his face. He wore a simple shirt with an overshirt layered on top, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing surprisingly muscular arms. 

Damn, you thought to yourself, trying to subtly avert your gaze. He's definitely not your average doctor. But you're definitely not your average patient too, to be fair.

"It's great to see you outside the clinic," Suguru said. "How have you been? Is your medication working well?"

You rolled your eyes. "I thought we agreed not to talk about medication and stuff outside of the hospital?"

"You're right, sorry. I guess I don't talk about much else often...might be getting a bit rusty," he said, sounding like a grandfather.

"So, no hobbies or interests besides medicine, huh?"

"Not much, to be honest."

"Besides a certain woman, that is," you teased.

His eyes met yours with a deadpan face. "Didn't we agree not to talk about such things outside of the hospital?"

You took another sip of your beer, feigning innocence. "Did we?"

"Now we did."

"Hmm," you hummed, eyeing him curiously.

Suguru looked at his beer briefly, then nearly whispered, "Did Satoru often talk about her?"

You bit your lip, suppressing the urge to tell him just how much he actually talked about her. Memories of countless appointments with Dr. Gojo flooded back. He'd often ramble on about her, their shared studies, the things he loved about her—

You even found yourself dreaming about the color of her eyes once, just because he'd mentioned them so often. The image of Gojo's lovestruck face whenever he mentioned his girlfriend flashed before your eyes.

No, you decided. Some things are better left unsaid.

"No, not really," you lied smoothly, taking another sip of your beer. Time for a subject change, you thought, maybe something to distract him from his lovesickness. "Did anyone ever tell you that you have a seriously intense stare?"

Smooth, real smooth, subject change.

"A few people have mentioned it," he said, caught off guard. "But it didn't seem to bother you."

"Yeah, because underneath, you looked sad. Like a sad little puppy."

"Haha," he said ironically.

"So, really no hobbies? Besides basketball, it seems."

"Not a die-hard fan, but I enjoy it.” His eyes briefly darted back to the game on the screen. "I used to play a bit myself. Back in high school and university." He paused, a fond smile playing on his lips. "Satoru and I were on the same team."

"But you don't play anymore?"

"No." His smile vanished. "We started together but Satoru eventually quit in the second year of university to focus on his studies. It wasn't much fun after he left the team, and I quit some time after."

"Hm," you mused, taking another sip of your beer. "Who was the better player? You or Gojo?"

His smile returned. "Oh, I was definitely better. But if you ask him, he'll say he's the better player. But don't tell him I said that. I wouldn't want to bruise his ego."

You laughed. "I'll keep your secret."

"So, who's your team?" he asked.

"Lakers, all the way. Been a fan since I was a kid."

"Good choice. They're looking strong this year."

"Totally. Though their defense has me a bit worried."

"Fair point," Suguru said. "But with LeBron and Davis, they're still very strong."

"No doubt. I'm hoping they can make a deep playoff run this season."

Just then, someone knocked over a glass a few tables away, drawing both your attention to the commotion. Once it settled down, Suguru turned back to you, taking a sip of his beer. "Now, how about you, why do you want to become an attorney?"

You hesitated, thinking. "Because it pays well."

He raised an eyebrow. "Can you give me another reason?"

You hesitated, thinking harder.

You bit your lip. Okay, you got his, think. Why law school? It's not like you're passionate about legal shit or courtroom drama. You hated the stuffy suits, the endless paperwork, and the cutthroat competition. So, what was it?

Maybe it's the power? The ability to fight for justice, to make a difference in the world? You scoffed inwardly. Yeah, right. More like the ability to argue with anyone and everyone, even if you're wrong. 

Perhaps it's the prestige? The fancy title, the corner office, the envious glances from your childhood school friends? You rolled your eyes at yourself. Please. Who are you kidding?

So, what's left? you wondered, a hint of frustration creeping into your thoughts. 

Why are you doing this to yourself?

You sighed, defeated. The truth was, you didn't have a good answer. You'd stumbled into law school on a whim, following some vague idea of success and stability. But now, as you neared graduation, you were beginning to realize that maybe this wasn't the path for you. 

That you didn't even like it.

"I... I don't know, exactly," you finally admitted. "I guess I come from a working-class family. My parents always emphasized the importance of a stable career, something safe and secure. Law seemed like a good option."

You looked up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of judgment. "Is that a bad reason?"

He paused. "Not necessarily," he said slowly. "Stability and security are important. It's valid to go for that. But they shouldn't be the only reason."

"Yeah," you agreed, taking a sip from your beer. As he watched you, you suddenly felt exposed under the gaze of this man you barely knew. "How did you know you wanted to do medicine?" you asked, hoping to shift the focus away from your own uncertainties.

"It wasn't a sudden realization," he began. "It was more of a gradual understanding. I've always been fascinated by the human body, the way it works, the way it heals. And I wanted to be a part of that process, to help people in some way."

He paused, his expression turning somber for a moment. "It's not always easy," he admitted. "There are long hours, difficult cases, and fucked-up moments. But at the end of the day, when I see a patient getting better, smile again… It makes it all worthwhile."

"Sounds like you found your calling," you said, a touch of envy in your voice.

"I did," he agreed. "But there were times, especially during my residency, when I thought about quitting. The stress was insane, the workload never-ending. But I had a few close friends who kept me going. They reminded me why I'd chosen this path in the first place. It's important to have people who believe in you, even when you doubt yourself."

A light smile spread across your face as you thought of Megumi, Nobara, and Yuji, your mismatched but fiercely loyal friends. They were the ones who made you laugh until your sides ached, who listened to your endless rants about law school, and who always had your back, no matter what. You were so grateful to have them in your life.

Then, curiosity got the better of you. "So, Dr. Gojo was that person for you? Helped you through the tough times?"

"Satoru? Help me? More like he's the reason why I almost went insane." Suguru huffed and shook his head. "He was always getting into trouble, always pushing the limits. I was the one constantly having to chase after him, keeping him in check."

"Sounds like you two have quite the history."

"Yeah, we do." His smile faded slightly as he looked down at his beer, gripping it a little tighter.

Right, touchy subject, you remembered. Back in the MRI room, he'd mentioned they'd drifted apart. You quickly decided to steer the conversation in a lighter direction.

"Hey, let's get some shots!" you exclaimed, waving over a bartender. "My treat."

Suguru raised an eyebrow. "I thought you wanted me to show you the city?"

"Yeah, well, it's kinda chilly out there," you said, waving a hand dismissively. 

You'd almost forgotten the little white lie you'd told him to get him to go out with you. You've lived in Tokyo your whole life. You could probably offer to show him around. It's not like he seems to ever leave the clinic. 

"Besides, who needs sightseeing when you can have shots?" you added.

The bartender arrived, and you ordered a round, telling him to surprise you.

"What are you planning with those?" Suguru asked as the bartender lined up the glasses, each filled with a different vibrant liquid.

"How about a game? We each make assumptions about the other, and if we're right, the other person has to take a shot."

"The doctor in me should probably stop us from drinking mindlessly," Suguru said, eyeing the glasses before him. "I'm game."

"Great." You took a deep breath, trying to gauge his personality beyond the white coat. "Assumption number one, you were a total nerd in high school."

"Wow, your assumption about the doctor is that he was a nerd in school? Isn't that like, a given for anyone who studies medicine?"

"But is it true?" you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

He hesitated for a second. "Guilty as charged." He raised his first shot glass in surrender, beige liquid disappearing between his lips. "Math club, science fairs, the whole deal."

"Ugh, really? Math club?"

"Don't judge me," he said. "It wasn't that lame."

You eyed him skeptically.

He sighed. "Okay, okay, it was lame. One point for you. My turn." Suguru narrowed his eyes playfully. "Hmm, let's see... Assumption number one, you have a secret passion for something completely unexpected."

"Wow. You've gotta be a little more specific than that. That's lame."

He leaned in a bit closer, his gaze sweeping over your face. A sudden warmth spread through your cheeks. "You're into art."

Your breath hitched. For a split second, you wondered if he was some kind of mind reader or a magician with a hidden crystal ball. Or probably stalked your Instagram. "How did you—" 

He pointed to your forehead. You quickly reached up and found a tiny blue dot near your hairline that you must have forgotten to wash off. "You really pay close attention to details," you said as you wiped it off.

"Occupational hazard," he replied with a shrug and a hint of a smile. "I'm a doctor, it's my job to spot even the smallest clues."

"Well, you got me."

"What kind of art do you do?" he asked.

You hesitated for a moment, a wave of self-consciousness washing over you. You'd never really shared your love for painting with anyone, not even your closest friends.

"I... I paint," you finally said. "It's just a hobby, really."

"But it's more than a hobby, isn't it?"

You looked away, feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks. He was right. Painting was more than just a hobby. It was a passion, a dream. But nothing worth pursuing.

"Enough about me," you said, drawing the purple shot, blueberry you assumed, in front of you in one go. You wanted to steer the conversation away from yourself, at least for now. It felt too raw, too exposed. "Let's get back to the game. My turn for an assumption."

You paused dramatically, tapping your finger on the bar counter as if deep in thought. "Okay, here it is, You always dreamed of being a neurosurgeon, like you were obsessed with it."

"Wrong," he said. "Not even close."

"You wanted to do something else?"

"Well, there was a brief period in my residency when I considered gynecology."

You leaned forward, your eyebrows shooting up. "Gynecology? Seriously?"

He shrugged. "Can't a guy like gynecology too?"

"No, I mean... I just didn't expect it, that's all. But you ended up with neurosurgery. How'd that happen?"

"Neurology has always fascinated me. The brain, the nervous system—It's all so complex, so intricate. And Satoru was into it too. He was always the one drawn to surgery, the adrenaline rush of the operating room. I guess I just followed his lead." He paused. "I don't even know why, really."

"But you enjoy surgery, right?" you asked.

"I do. It's challenging, rewarding, and sometimes even a bit thrilling. But if I'm being completely honest, I think I'm more suited to research and teaching. You know, figuring out the mysteries of the brain, sharing what I know."

"And that's how we met, isn't it?" you said, smiling. "Me, the patient with the mysterious brain thing, and you, the doctor trying to crack the case."

"I guess you could say that. But epilepsy isn't that uncommon. About 50 million people worldwide have it."

"Come on, let me feel special for a second, doc."

A warm smile spread across his face. "Okay, okay. But I must admit, you're more captivating than I first realized, attorney."

His words sent a flutter through your stomach. Was that a compliment or an insult? you wondered, but the warmth in his eyes made you lean towards the former. 

The bar's noise faded into the background as you became lost in your own little world. It was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you.

"And what did you think of me, then?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. "I thought you were... intriguing," he finally said, his voice husky. "Intelligent, witty, and surprisingly resilient. But also a bit stubborn and stupid."

"Ouch," you said.

For a heartbeat, your eyes locked with his, and your stomach fluttered, a sensation you hadn't experienced in a long time. The bar's dim lights cast a soft glow on Suguru's face, highlighting his ridiculously attractive features in a way that made it impossible to look away.

Heat crawled up your neck and you tore your eyes away. "It's kind of stuffy in here, or not?" you said, fanning yourself with your hand.

"Wanna grab some air?" he suggested.

The cool night air was a welcome balm against your flushed skin. Suguru reached into his pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. You watched him, surprised.

"You smoke? A doctor, no less."

He lit his cigarette with a practiced flick of his wrist. "Don't get on my case, attorney," he said, exhaling a plume of smoke into the night sky. "Everyone has their vices."

"I suppose," you said, leaning against the brick wall of the bar. "But I thought doctors were supposed to be, like, paragons of health and virtue."

He shrugged, taking another drag. "We're only human. We have our flaws, just like everyone else."

"Is it true what they say, that doctors are always self-medicating?"

"Are you asking me if I do drugs?" he asked.

"That's what you're implying now."

He took another drag. "I don't. But I've seen it, yeah. More than you would think."

"Should I be scared?"

He laughed, warm and full. A sound you could definitely get used to. "I'd probably stick with me, yeah."

"Just the nicotine addict then," you said. "Seems manageable."

And seeing him smile like that—

"It's good to see you smile," you added softly, almost without thinking.

He met your gaze, a hint of surprise flickering across his features. You could almost see him noticing the lightness in his own demeanor, so different to the usual somberness that clung to him back in the clinic. Maybe it was the casual setting, the relaxed atmosphere, or perhaps it was simply your company. 

Whatever it was, you were glad to see this side of him.

A slow breeze swept through the alley, carrying a hint of autumn's chill. You shivered, realizing you'd left your jacket inside the bar in your haste to escape the heat. Suguru noticed. "You cold?"

"A little," you admitted.

Without a word, he shrugged off his own jacket and draped it over your shoulders. The warmth of the fabric, still carrying his scent, enveloped you, chasing away the chill. And without the jacket, his physique was on full display. 

The simple shirt clung to his broad shoulders and sculpted chest. His forearms, exposed by the short sleeves, were corded with muscle. You tried your best to focus on the conversation, but let's be real, it was a struggle not to stare.

"Thanks." You pulled his jacket closer, trying to play it cool. "I didn't realize it would get so cool out here."

"No problem. Better than catching a cold, right?"

You nodded, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the jacket. This is not a date, you reminded yourself. Not a date. He's technically your doctor. But then again, what doctor goes to a sports bar with their patient?

Something must be wrong with him.

The math club thing was already a red flag.

"So," he said, breaking the silence, "who's your favorite artist?"

You blinked, surprised by the question. "My favorite artist? Why do you ask?"

He shrugged. "Just curious."

You hesitated, then the words started tumbling out. You rambled on about William Turner's dramatic seascapes, how his brushstrokes captured the rawness of nature. You gushed about the hidden symbolism in Botticelli's "Primavera" and the emotional intensity of Munch's "The Scream." 

You even shared your newfound fascination with contemporary artists like Yayoi Kusama and her mesmerizing infinity rooms. Suguru listened patiently, his eyes never leaving yours as you went on and on.

Oh shit.

You're doing it again, aren't you? A wave of self-consciousness washing over you. Rambling on and on about art. He's probably bored out of his mind. You bit your lip, wishing you could reel back the words, but it was too late. The art gusher had been unleashed. 

Why do you always do this?

"Sorry," you finally said, breathless and embarrassed. "I tend to get carried away when I talk about art."

He laughed again, warm, comforting. "Don't apologize. It's good to see someone so passionate about something. It's contagious."

You smiled, surprised that you hadn't completely embarrassed yourself. Somehow, the conversation with Suguru flowed so easily. You found yourself enjoying his company, his wit, and his genuine interest. You enjoyed being with him.

"So," Suguru said, "if you had to pick just one favorite artist, who would it be?"

"Hard to choose. But if I had to pick just one, it would probably be William Turner."

"Turner?" he echoed. "I'll have to look him up."

"What about you? Do you have a favorite painter?"

"Not really. But I haven't seen your paintings yet," he said. "I guess I know who my favorite painter will be then."

You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks, his words sending a shiver down your spine. Did he just...? Was he flirting with you?

Before you could gather your thoughts and formulate a response, Suguru cleared his throat, breaking the spell. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Shall we go back inside?" 

You nodded.

The warmth and stale air of the bar hit you like a wall as you stepped back inside. And you might have had a bit too much to drink at this point, you realized. As you made your way back to your seats, a group of men at the bar caught Suguru's eye.

"Hey, Suguru!" one of them called out, waving him over. "Didn't expect to see you here tonight. Care to join us for a game of darts?"

Suguru hesitated, glancing at you. "I'm actually with—"

"Sure, we'd love to!" you interjected, meeting his gaze. "I love darts."

Suguru's eyebrows shot up. "You do?"

"Sure, I mean, it can't be that hard, right?"

"You sure you wanna join them? We usually bet too," he said.

"Oh, even better."

Suguru eyed you weary. He was probably already calculating the damage to his wallet if your dart-throwing skills were anything like your general clumsiness.

You made your way over to the group, and Suguru quickly introduced you. He rattled off a series of names, but honestly, they all blurred together. Tall men, some handsome, some not. All very confident. Some with questionable facial hair choices.

One of them, a tall guy with a mop of curly hair, handed you a beer, uncapped it, and raised his own in a toast. "Welcome to the crew. Suguru here doesn't usually bring company, so you must be special."

You looked over your shoulder to meet Suguru's eyes with a look that said, Oh, you really are a loner, huh? He just sighed at you in response.

"So," the curly-haired guy continued, "did you play before, or are we gonna have to go easy on you?"

You shrugged. "I'm not completely hopeless." You could practically hear Suguru's internal groan beside you.

"Alright, everyone," the curly-haired guy announced, grabbing a notepad and pen. "Let's get the bets in. We doing teams of two again?"

A chorus of eager voices responded, each man vying for the chance to challenge the new couple in the group. You and Suguru, to be exact. 

You stepped up to the dartboard. "So," you said, picking up a dart and examining it, "how exactly do you hold this thing?" A collective groan erupted from the group. Suguru's smile vanished.

Oh boy, you could practically hear him thinking, this is going to be a disaster.

One of the men, blonde hair, eager to show off, stepped forward. "Here, let me show you—"

But before he could reach you, Suguru smoothly interjected. "Allow me," he said, gently taking the dart from your hand.

He positioned himself behind you. His hand enveloped yours, his fingers warm and strong against your own. He adjusted your grip, his touch lingering on your skin. His other hand rested lightly on your lower back, a subtle yet electrifying touch that made your stomach flutter.

"Like this," he said, his voice close to your ear. "Relax your grip, focus on your target, and let it fly."

You could feel his breath on your neck, his chest rising and falling against your back with each inhale and exhale. Your senses were overwhelmed — the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body, the soft rumble of his voice in your ear.

You struggled to focus on the dartboard, your mind reeling from the unexpected intimacy of the moment. You hadn't quite anticipated this, but you didn't hate it. 

Maybe you even... liked it.

For a moment, you forgot all about the game, the bets, the curious onlookers.

"Got it?" Suguru's voice.

You nodded, your cheeks flushed.

"Alright then," one of the guys called out, short black hair, freckles, clapping his hands together. "Let's get this show on the road!"

The men took their turns, each showcasing their varying levels of skill. Some landed their darts with precision, while others elicited groans and playful jeers from the group.

Throughout it all, Suguru remained close, his arms crossed over his broad chest, occasionally brushing against your shoulder as you observed the others' attempts. You could practically feel his tension mounting with every throw. 

Finally, it was your turn. You stepped up to the throwing line, all eyes on you, amusement and skepticism painted on their faces.

"Wait, where do I stand again?" you asked.

A few chuckles rippled through the group. You could practically hear Suguru's wallet crying in his pocket.

One of the guys, brown shoulder-length hair, stepped forward. "Bit closer here—"

But before he could reach you, you smoothly turned, your arm extending in a perfect arc. The dart flew through the air, landing with a satisfying thunk right in the bullseye.

Dead silence. 

Then, a collective gasp, followed by a chorus of disbelieving exclamations. "Bullseye!" someone shouted. "No way!" another one exclaimed.

Suguru's jaw practically hit the floor. He stared at the dartboard, then at you, like he'd never seen you before. "You—" he stammered, clearly at a loss for words. "You're good?"

You turned to face him, a grin spreading across your face. "Told you I wasn't completely hopeless." You sauntered back to Suguru, leaving the men in stunned silence. You reached for the beer he'd been holding for you, taking a long sip. "So, we're splitting the winnings 50/50, right, Doc?"

Suguru, still a bit dazed, blinked a few times before a slow grin spread across his face. "Deal."

The rest of the game was a blur of laughter, trash talk, and cheers.

Freckles-guy gave your shoulders a quick massage before your next turn. Long brown hair got you another beer. Suguru was frantically trying to keep up with your score on the notepad, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

The bar erupted when you landed another bullseye. Strangers high-fived you, and suddenly the whole place seemed to be watching. The bartender even announced a round of free shots on the house.

At one point, you ended up on Suguru's shoulders. Bullseye. You even tried throwing blindfolded, spinning around, and then letting one fly. Bullseye again. Okay, not every shot was a bullseye, but they were damn close.

Then there was that one time Suguru pulled you close, his lips brushing the top of your head in a playful kiss. You barely knew him, but even you knew that was surprising. He was so unlike the composed surgeon you'd met in his office. It threw you off so much you almost missed your next shot, but you still nailed it.

Another bullseye. Seriously.

You were about to hand off your beer to Suguru so you could take your next turn, when some large figure bumped into you, sending a wave of cold beer cascading down your front.

"Shit, I'm so sorry!" a male voice exclaimed, red hair. 

You looked down at your shirt, now soaked in a sticky, amber-colored mess.

"Are you okay?" Suguru's voice. 

You looked up to see him standing protectively in front of you, his eyes narrowed at the clumsy culprit.

"I'm fine," you said, trying to brush off the sticky residue. "I'll be right back." You quickly made your way to the women's restroom, leaving him standing amidst the lingering stares of curious onlookers.

Once inside the dimly lit bathroom, you assessed the damage. The sticky liquid had soaked through your shirt, leaving a large, unsightly stain right across your chest. You groaned inwardly. Of all the nights to spill a drink on yourself, you thought, it had to be tonight.

You turned on the faucet, hoping to at least rinse off some of the sticky residue. But as you dabbed at the stain with a damp paper towel, it only seemed to spread further, creating a chaotic blend of colors that resembled a modern art masterpiece gone wrong.

"Great," you muttered to yourself, throwing the soggy paper towel in the trash. "This is just perfect."

You tried blotting the stain with another paper towel, then with hand soap, then with a random assortment of toiletries you found under the sink. But nothing seemed to work. In fact, it seemed like you were only making it worse.

You glanced at your reflection in the mirror, a frustrated sigh escaping your lips. Your once-put-together appearance was now a disheveled mess. Your hair was slightly damp from the frantic cleaning attempts, and your shirt looked like it had been attacked by a bear or so.

Just my luck, you thought, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

In a final act of desperation, you grabbed a wad of toilet paper and scrubbed at the stain like a madman. The flimsy fabric of your shirt, already weakened by the moisture, couldn't withstand the onslaught. With a sickening ripping sound, a small tear appeared near the neckline, rapidly expanding into a gaping hole.

You stared at the damage in disbelief. "Seriously?" you groaned, throwing your hands up in defeat. This night just keeps getting better and better.

You glanced at your watch, your eyes widening in horror. You'd been holed up in the bathroom for almost fifteen minutes. Suguru must be wondering what on earth was taking you so long.

Panic set in. 

You couldn't go back out there looking like this. Your shirt was beyond repair, and you certainly couldn't walk around half-naked in a crowded bar.

Your eyes darted around the bathroom, searching for anything that could salvage the situation. A roll of duct tape? A strategically placed safety pin? A magical fairy godmother with a sewing kit? No such luck.

Just as you were contemplating your options — which seemed to range from hiding in the bathroom forever to fashioning a makeshift bandage out of toilet paper — a gentle knock sounded on the door.

"Attorney?" Suguru's voice filtered through the thin wood. "Everything alright in there?"

"Just a minute!" you called back, your voice slightly muffled as you frantically rummaged under the bathroom sink cabinet for something, anything, to help you out. In your haste, you stood up too quickly, forgetting about the low-hanging sink. Your head collided with the porcelain with a resounding thwack.

"Ow!" you yelped, clutching your head.

"Attorney?" Suguru's voice was laced with concern now. "What was that? Did you hurt yourself?"

"Nothing!" you lied, wincing at the throbbing pain. "Just... dropped something."

You heard the doorknob rattle, then Suguru's voice again, more insistent this time. "I'm coming in."

Before you could protest, the door swung open, revealing a worried Suguru. His eyes scanned the bathroom, taking in the scene — the ruined shirt in the sink, the damp paper towels scattered on the counter, and you, clutching your forehead with a grimace, wearing nothing but your bra and jeans.

He quickly averted his gaze. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

You groaned, still clutching your head. "I hit my head on the sink. It's nothing serious, just a bump."

"Let me see," he said, cautiously turning his gaze back to you. He walked over, careful to keep his eyes focused on your face. He gently tilted your chin up, his fingers brushing against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes were filled with concern as he examined the growing bump on your forehead.

"It's not too bad." A relieved sigh escaped his lips. "But we should probably head home and put some ice on it."

"I'm sorry, I'm such a mess," you said.

"A mess? You're a dart champion, as far as I'm concerned."

"Told you I like sports bars," you quipped, attempting a weak smile.

An awkward silence hung in the air, broken only by the muffled sounds of the bar's revelry filtering through the door. You fidgeted, acutely aware of your exposed skin and the warmth radiating from Suguru's close proximity.

"Here," he said suddenly. "Take this."

You looked up to see him pulling his shirt over his head, revealing a sculpted torso that could rival any Greek god statue. Your breath hitched in your throat, your eyes widening involuntarily. He handed you the soft cotton shirt.

You took the shirt, your fingers brushing against his as you did so. A jolt of electricity shot through you, and you quickly pulled your hand back.

"Thanks." You pulled the shirt over your head. It was warm from his body, and the scent of his cologne clung to the fabric, sandalwood and something else you couldn't quite place.

Suguru quickly slipped back into his overshirt, buttoning it up. "Better?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

"Much better. Thank you."

"You know, for a future lawyer, you seem to attract a fair bit of chaos."

"It's a blessing. Or maybe a curse. I haven't quite decided yet."

"Well," he said. "It certainly makes life interesting."

You couldn't help but laugh, but the sound caught in your throat as a sharp pain throbbed through your forehead. You winced, bringing a hand to your head.

"Whoa, you okay?" Suguru asked.

"My head," you mumbled, the pain intensifying. "Think I hit it harder than I thought."

In an instant, he was all doctor again. He gently tilted your chin up, his fingers cool against your flushed skin. His eyes, now serious and focused, scanned your face, searching for any signs of a concussion.

"Does it hurt anywhere else?"

You shook your head slightly, your gaze locked with his. You were so close, you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face, the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It was intoxicating. No, that can't be—It must be the alcohol. Definitely the alcohol.

"Just a bump," you assured him, your voice barely a whisper. "It'll be fine."

He continued his examination, his fingers tracing the outline of your jaw, the curve of your cheek. His touch was gentle, yet electrifying, making your knees weak.

"You're sure?" he asked again, his voice husky.

You nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his. The air between you crackled, the boundaries between doctor and patient blurring once again.

"Yeah, I'm sure," you repeated.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, slowly, almost tentatively, he leaned in closer. His face was inches from yours now, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. You held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest.

"So," he began, “what exactly did you do to your shirt to end up like this?"

You burst into laughter, the sound slightly breathless. "Oh, it's a long story."

"You really are chaotic, aren't you?" He reached out then, his fingers lightly brushing over your cheek. You took a sharp inhale.

"I'm sorry, I'm a little bit drunk, I think," he said, his gaze fixed on your lips. Oh god, why did he have to look at your lips with those perfect eyes?

You nodded, your lips parting slightly. "It's okay, I think I'm a little tipsy too." The words caught in your throat, replaced by a silent plea for him to close the remaining distance between you.

"We should probably head back inside," he said.

"Is that a question?"

"I mean... we should go back," he stammered, his eyes flickering between your lips and your eyes.

"Do you want to go back?"

"Don't ask me that."

"Why?" you whispered, leaning closer.

"You know why, attorney."

"But it's my job to get clear answers," you countered. "I can't make decisions based on mere assumptions."

He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth of his body against yours sent a wave of heat through you, and you tilted your head up, meeting his gaze.

"I could get in serious trouble for this," he said. "A doctor and his patient..."

"Only if someone sues you," you teased. "And I'm not gonna sue you."

"How old are you again?" 

"You know how old I am."

The possibilities hung in the air, heavy, unexpected, irresistible. You reached up, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the smooth skin beneath your fingertips.

Suguru's breath hitched at your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. When he opened them again, the intensity in his gaze stole your breath away. It was as if he'd finally surrendered to the pull between you, the last of his reservations crumbling away.

"Ah, fuck it," he said.

Before you could react, his lips crashed against yours. You gasped at the sudden contact, your lips parting in surprise, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to tangle with yours.

The kiss lit a fire in you, a heat that spread from your lips to the tips of your toes. His hands roamed your body, one tangling in your hair to tilt your head for better access, the other spreading across the small of your back to press you tightly against him.

You melted into him, your hands fisting in his shirt. He kissed you like he was starving and you were the only thing that could satisfy his hunger. The room was spinning, the world tilting on its axis, and all you could focus on was the taste of him, the feel of his hands on your body, the way he made you feel like nothing else existed but this moment.

His hands were everywhere, skimming over your sides, teasing the swell of your breasts through your, sorry, his shirt, leaving you gasping for more. You arched into his touch, craving more, needing to feel skin against skin.

In that moment, you didn't care about the consequences. 

Suguru's hands drifted lower, squeezing your ass, pulling you harder against him. You couldn't resist grinding against him, chasing that maddening friction, that perfect pressure right where you needed it most. He groaned into the kiss, the sound vibrating through you.

Desperate for more, you slid your hands under his shirt, exploring the hard planes of his chest, feeling the muscles twitch and flex beneath your touch. He shuddered, his abs contracting as your fingers danced over his heated skin.

Breaking the kiss, Suguru trailed his lips down your jaw, nipping and sucking as he made his way to your throat. You let your head fall back, giving him better access, a breathy moan escaping you.

"Keep making sounds like that and I won't be able to stop myself from fucking you right here," he warned.

His words made your head spin. The idea of him bending you over the sink and claiming you, right here in this dingy bathroom with a bar full of people just outside — it was reckless, stupid, the most brilliantly terrible idea you'd ever had.

"Maybe that's what I want," you dared, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging, urging him on. "Maybe I want you to take me right here.”

Let's be real, you were beyond caring about propriety or the risk of getting caught. All you cared about was the man in front of you and the heat he ignited within you.

You could feel him smile against your skin. “Oh really?”

As Suguru's lips moved against yours, his hands began to explore your body, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs. He pulled you closer, his fingers digging into skin as he ground against you, letting you feel exactly what you were doing to him.

The hard, heavy press of his erection against you made you moan into his mouth, your body arching into his. Holy shit, he was huge, you could already tell. Your knees nearly buckled at the thought of him inside you, stretching you, filling you so full you could barely breathe.

God, you needed him.

He broke the kiss, his eyes dark as he reached down to fumble with the button of your jeans. You couldn't help but gasp as he finally got them open, his fingers slipping inside, seeking the warmth between your legs.

He traced the outline of your underwear, lingering on the damp patch where your arousal had already begun to soak through the material.

"Fuck, you're so wet." He groaned, his eyes closing. "Can I?"

Your eyes snapped open. "Did you seriously just ask permission to finger me?"

"I'll take that as a yes." 

Without hesitation, he hooked his fingers under the edge of your underwear and tugged it aside. The first touch of his fingers against your core made you moan. He was so warm, his skin rough and calloused in the best way as he slid two thick digits deep inside you.

"Oh fuck," you whimpered, your head falling back against the wall.

He pumped his fingers in and out, setting a deep, slow rhythm. The wet sounds of him finger-fucking you echoed off the bathroom tiles, along with your desperate pants and bitten-off curses. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, coating his fingers and dripping down your thighs.

Suguru captured your lips in another kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to dance with yours. It was messy and frantic, more panting into each other's mouths than any real skill, but fuck if it wasn't the hottest thing you'd ever felt.

With his free hand, he grabbed hold of yours and pinned it above your head, his fingers lacing with yours. The cold press of the wall against your heated skin made you shiver, making every touch and sensation feel even more intense.

His fingers worked you mercilessly, curling and scissoring and rubbing in all the right ways. You could feel your orgasm building embarrassingly fast, your inner walls starting to clench around him. 

Fuck, you'd never gotten this close this quickly with anyone else, never felt so utterly fucking wrecked with just a few touches.

Just as you were teetering on the very edge, your thighs shaking and your moans picking up in pitch, the bathroom door suddenly flew open with a bang.

"Oh my god!" a startled voice yelped. "Sorry!"

Suguru immediately slipped his fingers out of you, and you scrambled to pull your jeans back up, your face on fire. The woman booked it out of there, slamming the door behind her and leaving you both in the most awkward silence of your life.

Suguru cleared his throat, taking a step back and rubbing the back of his neck, refusing to meet your eyes. "Sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have... that was way out of line."

You stared at the floor, your cheeks burning hotter than the surface of the sun. "It's fine," you said. "We're both drunk. Alcohol makes people do dumb shit."

The silence stretched out between you, thick and heavy and so fucking uncomfortable you wanted to scream. You kept replaying the kiss, the way he touched you, the feel of his fingers inside you — it sent shivers down your spine, even as shame turned your stomach to lead.

You'd never done anything like this before — making out with someone you barely knew, letting him finger-fuck you in a gross sports bar bathroom after knowing him for like, five hours. What were you thinking?

Part of you wanted to die of embarrassment, to sink through the floor and disappear forever. But another part of you didn't want this night to end. 

Suguru was exciting, different. And somehow it felt so easy. Easy to talk, easy to laugh, easy to — be yourself. And that was something you hadn't felt in a long time.

Finally, Suguru broke the silence. "We should probably get you home," he said. "We had a lot to drink, and you hit your head. I want to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah," you agreed. "Home sounds good."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

You wanted to forget that night. 

Bury the memory of Dr. Suguru Geto's hands between your legs six feet under and never dig it up again. But no, your brain had other plans. It was like trying to unsee a particularly embarrassing video of yourself — technically possible, but your brain seemed determined to keep replaying it on loop.

Back at the law firm, you navigated the busy corridors, two steaming cups of coffee clutched in your hands. One was for Mr. Higurama, your mentor, and the other was for your own sanity.

Higurama was one of the best. Without him, you'd have bailed on this stupid internship within the first week. He was meticulous, dedicated, and knew the law like the back of his hand. But he was also, let's be honest, a bit strange.

He'd rather spend his weekends reading dusty old legal texts than having a life. And his obsession with obscure legal trivia was — something else. He'd drop those obscure historical law facts that left everyone scratching their heads. 

Maybe that's why you two clicked. You were both the oddballs in a sea of perfectly polished lawyers.

As you rounded the corner, you spotted him — the intern whose name you could never remember, but who you'd mentally dubbed "Chad" for his obnoxious attitude and perfectly-gelled hair. He was strutting towards you, his tailored suit and smug grin practically screaming "I'm better than you."

"Well, well, well," he drawled. "Look who's playing coffee delivery girl."

He reached out a hand, expecting you to hand over one of the cups. You sidestepped him. "Nice try, Chad," you retorted, continuing your walk towards Mr. Higurama's office.

You could hear his indignant huff behind you. "That's not my name!"

You just rolled your eyes and kept walking, a smile tugging at your lips. Whatever, Chad, you thought to yourself. His name is the least of your problems right now.

You knocked lightly on Mr. Higurama's door, a nervous flutter returning to your stomach. Even after weeks, you still couldn't shake the feeling of being a fish out of water in this fancy law firm.

"Come in!" Mr. Higurama's voice called out.

You pushed open the door, a smile spreading across your face at the sight of your mentor. He was buried under a mountain of paperwork, his brow furrowed in concentration. He looked up with a start as you entered.

"Oh, hey," he said, blinking in surprise. "You're a lifesaver. I was just about to send someone out for a caffeine fix."

He glanced at his watch, his expression suddenly turning serious. "Oh shit, we're running late," he said, scrambling to gather the scattered papers on his desk. "We need to leave for that client meeting in five minutes."

"No problem," you said, trying to sound calm despite the sudden rush. "I'm ready."

You walked over to his desk, carefully balancing the coffee cups in one hand. As you reached for a stack of files, your foot caught on the corner of the rug, sending you stumbling forward. The coffee cup lurched in your hand, its contents splashing onto the neatly organized papers on Mr. Higurama's desk.

You froze, the coffee dripping from the once-pristine documents. 

Higurama looked up at you, his face a mask of — well, you weren't sure what. This wasn't the first time you'd pulled a stunt like this.

"I'm so sorry. I swear I'm not doing this on purpose,” you said.

But before you knew it, you were in the car. No time to reprint the papers, apparently. With a resigned sigh, Higurama quickly gathered the damp forms, and you both rushed out to his car.

The drive was filled with a tense silence. You wanted to disappear into the car seat, your embarrassment a heavy weight on your chest. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore.

"So," you ventured cautiously, "what's this client meeting about?"

"We're going to the hospital," he said. "A group of doctors is in a bit of a... difficult situation."

"Oh, is it related to a patient?"

Higurama let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Don't ask," he said, his tone more tired than annoyed.

You shrank back into your seat, deciding to keep your mouth shut for the rest of the ride.

Higurama led you through a maze of corridors, his footsteps echoing on the polished linoleum floor of the hospital. Though you were somewhat familiar with the building from your visits to Dr. Gojo, this particular wing was kind of new to you. 

As you approached the meeting room, you could hear the muffled sounds of a heated discussion. Higurama paused, straightening his tie and composing his features into his usual stoic mask.

You were kind of freaking out. A case involving doctors? That was new. Seemed unusual for Higurama too, since you both usually dealt with international affairs. Must be a special case. Higurama pushed open the door, and you stepped into the conference room.

And then you saw him.

No, them — both of them.

Dr. Gojo.

And Suguru.

They were sitting at the far end of the table, Suguru's arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Your heart lurched in my chest, surprise and mortification flooding through you.

Oh my god, you thought. He's one of the doctors.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks. The man you'd nearly fucked in that filthy bathroom just a few nights ago, the man whose lips you could still feel on yours — was now your client. The embarrassment of the situation threatened to swallow you whole, and you desperately wished you could disappear into thin air.

Suguru and Dr. Gojo were locked in a heated debate. Their voices rose and fell, words a flurry of medical words and frustrated exclamations.

"That's why we should do biomarkers that could help identify patients at higher risk," Gojo said.

"We can't ignore the data," Suguru countered. "The preliminary results show a significant increase in CAR-T cell persistence with the modified construct. We need to investigate this further."

"But the neurotoxicity risk," Gojo argued, his tone equally firm. "We can't overlook the potential complications. We need to refine the targeting strategy, minimize off-target effects."

"We can address those concerns in subsequent phases," Suguru argued back. "We can't afford to stall progress."

The argument escalated, their voices echoing through the room. Dr. Gojo stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. He strode to the whiteboard, scribbling something furiously with a marker. They still hadn't noticed you.

You wanted to flee, to crawl into a hole and die. You took a step back, then another, ready to make a run for it, but Higurama's hand shot out, gripping your blazer and holding you in place. He gave you a look that said he wanted to flee just as much as you did.

Oh god, please let this be over soon.

Suddenly, Higurama cleared his throat.

Both doctors turned around, surprise plastered on their faces as they noticed you and Higurama standing there. Suguru's eyes met yours for a split second, and you could practically feel the awkwardness radiating off of him before you quickly looked away. The knot in your stomach tightened.

Dr. Gojo, however, recovered quickly, a charming smile spreading across his face as he saw you. "Oh, hey. Didn't expect to see you here too."

You managed a weak smile. "Hello, Dr. Gojo."

"How have you been feeling?" Gojo asked you. "Any side effects from the medication?"

"Fine," you replied curtly. "No problems."

Gojo's gaze lingered on you for a moment. "And how's Suguru treating you? Is he taking good care of you?"

God, please have mercy on me, you thought, your cheeks burning even hotter. But before you could answer, Suguru quickly interjected, his voice firm. "Perhaps we should get started with the meeting."

Higurama gestured towards the empty chairs around the table. "Shall we sit down?"

You all took your seats, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a scalpel. Higurama cleared his throat again, his gaze sweeping across the room. "I believe we all know why we're here today," he began, his tone professional and matter-of-fact.

"Actually, we don't," Gojo deadpanned. "Yaga didn't tell us anything."

Higurama looked like he wanted to crawl under the table and die. Same, you thought.

"There have been some... concerns raised regarding professional conduct within the university," Higurama finally managed to say.

Suguru and Gojo made a face in unison.

You reached into Mr. Higurama's briefcase, pulling out the stack of papers he'd entrusted you with. As you pulled them out, you couldn't help but notice the faint coffee stains marrying the edges. Your cheeks flushed even deeper.

But then your eyes landed on the content of the paper.

It wasn't a complex legal case or a malpractice lawsuit, as you had initially feared. Instead, you were faced with a series of brightly colored pamphlets titled “Maintaining Professional Boundaries”.

The pages were filled with cartoon illustrations and bullet points detailing appropriate conduct with students, patients and colleagues. There were even sections on how to avoid gossip in the workplace, with a handwritten note scrawled in the margin that basically said, "Don’t fuck with students, Gojo" in a slightly more professional way. Higurama's handwriting, for sure.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place. 

The girl Gojo always talked about, the one he was always going on and on about marrying—she was a student. He'd been sleeping with a student this whole time. Oh my god. How inappropriate. You could never imagine hooking up with one of your professors. 

But now that you think about it — someone in the glass house shouldn't throw stones, as they say.

Anyway, a wave of secondhand embarrassment washed over you as you placed the papers in front of the doctors. Even Higurama seemed to shrink in his seat. The silence in the room was deafening as Suguru and Gojo scanned the documents. You could practically hear crickets chirping.

Finally, Higurama cleared his throat, attempting to regain control of the situation. “As I was saying,” he began, his voice strained, “we all know why we’re here today.”

All eyes immediately snapped to Gojo. “Oh, come on. Don’t look at me like that,” he said. Suguru let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing his temples. Then, Gojo's gaze fell upon the stack of papers in front of him. "Besides, why is there coffee on those documents?"

Every head in the room swiveled towards you. 

You quickly looked away.

The rest of the meeting was, to put it mildly, awkward as hell. Higurama tried his best to maintain a professional facade as he soldiered on with the presentation, highlighting the importance of maintaining professional boundaries. 

You couldn't help but squirm in your seat as he droned on about appropriate conduct and the dangers of crossing the line. With every mention of "patient confidentiality" and "avoiding dual relationships," your mind flashed back to that night at the bar. 

Suguru's hands on your waist, his lips on yours. You were sure your face was burning a bright shade of crimson. You risked a glance at Suguru, but he was staring intently at the table, his expression carefully blank.

Gojo tried to lighten the mood with a few well-timed jokes, but you guessed he was uneasy, too. You noticed him scratching his arm from time to time, a nervous tic you'd never seen before. Suguru, on the other hand, remained stoic, his gaze fixed on the presentation materials, though you could sense his discomfort.

You couldn't help but wonder what Suguru was thinking. Was he regretting that night at the bar as much as you were starting to? Did he see you differently now?

Finally, the meeting mercifully ended. 

Gojo stood up. "Higurama, can we talk for a second?" Higurama sighed, but reluctantly followed him out of the room, leaving you alone with Suguru.

A tense silence descended upon the room. You avoided Suguru's gaze, focusing instead on the white walls. But you could feel his eyes on you, burning into your skin.

“How’s your head?” he asked.

“Fine.”

“Did you ice it?” he pressed.

“Yes.”

Silence returned.

It felt like the air itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. Unable to bear the stillness any longer, you stood up, clutching your bag tightly. "Well, I should probably get going."

"Wait," Suguru's voice stopped you mid-escape. "About the other night. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken things so far."

You turned back to face him. "No, it's okay. It was... nice." Nice? Did you really just describe the hottest makeout session of your life as 'nice'? What were you, a Victorian maiden?

"Nice?" he echoed, one eyebrow raised in that infuriatingly attractive way of his.

"I mean... It was good. Really good," you clarified, somehow making it even worse. "You're a great kisser and..." you trailed off, wanting to crawl under the table and die.

Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, you tried to make another break for it, only to be halted by Suguru's hand wrapping around your wrist. His grip was gentle but firm, sending sparks shooting up your arm.

You spun back around to find him towering over you. Damn him for being so tall. And for looking so good in his dress shirt and vest and tie under that crisp white doctor's coat. It wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make you come before we were interrupted," he said, sounding so genuinely apologetic you almost laughed. Almost. If this whole situation wasn't so mortifyingly awkward.

"Oh my god, please don't say that."

"I just want you to know, I don't usually do things like that."

"Like what? Not make women come? Wow, what a gentleman."

"No, I meant—" He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm not really one for hookups in general."

Oh god, why are you having this conversation now, here, with Higurama and Dr. Gojo just outside? "Okay, cool. Thanks for letting me know." You tried once again to subtly tug your wrist from his grip.

But Suguru held fast, his thumb rubbing absently over your racing pulse. "I don't regret it, if that's what you're worried about. I liked it. Spending time with you. A lot.”

You stared at him, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. He likes spending time with you? What did that even mean?

"Uh," you began. "You don't?"

"No, I don't." His grip on your wrist loosened slightly, but he didn't let go. "I was just surprised. It felt... good."

Good? You blinked. Good? What did ‘good’ in this context even mean? But then again, it had felt pretty damn good.

"And you're a great kisser too," he mirrored your words.

"Thanks." Thanks? Did you really just say thanks? And then, because your brain apparently decided to abandon all sense of self-preservation, you blurted out, "And you have great fingers."

Your face erupted in a fiery blush, and you wished you could disappear into the floor. My God, why couldn't you just shut up for once in your life?

Suguru's lips twitched into a smirk. "Thanks," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "We should do it again sometime."

"Yeah, totally." The words tumbled out before you could stop them. You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry as the desert. Play it cool, play it cool. "I think we would be quite good together. At sex, I mean. Wait, no—" You stumbled over your words, your hands flailing helplessly as you tried to backpedal.

"I meant the sports bar," Suguru clarified, barely containing his amusement.

"Oh yeah, me too," you said quickly, too quickly. "The sports bar. Where we... watch sports. And drink beer—"

Then the door creaked open and Higurama stepped back into the room. You both immediately moved apart. Higurama glanced at you. "Are you ready to go back to the office?"

You nodded.

Thank god it was over.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: hello again !! hope you didn't die bc of cringe this chapter, as our dear reader certainly brings a touch of chaotic energy to the story. and i want to express my gratitude for all the wonderful comments and messages you've been leaving. they never fail to brighten my day. & thank you again tasha for helping me out with this chapter. check out her work here. <3

don't have much else to add at this point, so whether you're reading this in the middle of the day or late at night, i wish you all the best. thank you for your continued support and love :)

pls comment on the masterlist for the taglist. or consider subscribing to the story on AO3, if you'd like to stay updated on future chapters.

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© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[natailiatulls07]

Jules Bianchi x Daughter!reader

Charles Leclerc x little sister!reader

Summary - A little walk to Pascale salon turns into an anxiety attack because of some intrusive fans (I have changed the request slightly, I hope you don't mind x)

Warning - Mention of Jules Bianchi, fans being intrusive, anxiety attack (It's not that descriptive), multiple mentions of being in the public eye/limelight

A/n - Tumblr is being a bit weird rn so I'm gonna try and post this again lol x

Marguerite

-

Being in the public eye does have its consequences, espercially when your father is considered a formula one legend and your guardian/older brother is a very popular current formula one driver.

One of these consequences is anxiety, it's something Y/n developed from a very young age. Of course she has her coping mechanisms and the people in her inner circle know how to help her.

-

It was a slow day for Marguerite. She didn't have any classes and she'd have the apartment to herself today. Usually she'd have Tom, her boyfriend, round to hang out but he was busy.

The day started out okay; Y/n had caught up with any unfinished assignments before relaxing in the living room. Rewatching her favourite show and playing with Leo.

Alexandra and Charles were out all day, leaving the dog with the younger girl. Charles had a press event for his ice cream brand, Lec, and Y/n knew that it'd be hard to contact the pair.

Normally Marguerite would join them, but she felt as though she hadn't stopped recently. Between grand prixs, school, social events and travel, she hadn't had a proper break in a long while. Don't get me wrong; she loves her life and she's forever grateful for the privileges, opportunities and things she gets but a girl needs a break ever so often.

Around about half day, she decided that Leo and herself needed some fresh air so Y/n quickly got everything ready. Hooking the lead to Leo's collar, allowing the excited dog to slip through the front door before following in suit.

Marguerite was wearing a basic outfit, no effort at all, just hoping that she wouldn't be recognized. Particularly in Monaco, Y/n is usually seen and recongized.

"Right, let's go Leo.."

-

The sun shined down on Y/n and Leo as they casually strolled past the harbour, she thought about walking up to Le Quai 28. It had been a long time since she's seen Pascale.

Yeah it was a bit of a walk but that meant less time confined to a stuffy apartment which was needed.

They were half way there when things started to go down hill. The sun had decided to hide behind a grey gloomy cloud. With a soft huff, Marguerite quickened the pace hoping to avoid the impending rain.

But her new pace came to a stop when three girls, alittle bit older than her, came rushing to her. They all had excited and giddy smiles on their faces. It scared her slightly.

"Hey, we love you, Charles, Alexandra! Oh and Leo, like oh my god hi!" Y/n knew they meant well but the continuous squeals and giggle made her slightly uncomfortable. Espercially today, she wasn't feeling social interactions with strangers really.

In her hand Marguerite felt Leo trying to tug on the lead, just like her he was just as uncomfortable.

But it only got worse. The sudden attention on Marguerite caused more people to notice her and Leo. She painted a forced smile to her face, the smile not meeting her eyes - not that anyone really noticed. More people started to crowd around her.

"Can you give me a shoutout on your social media? It would mean the world to me!"

"Y/n! Y/n! Can I have a photo please?"

"What's your favorite memory of Jules? It must be incredible to grow up as his daughter!"

That last comment stung slightly. Y/n loved to honour her late father but sometimes when strangers ask about her childhood with him, it's something she wants to keep for herself.

To her, it felt intrusive. You wouldn’t go up to a random stranger asking about their favourite memory from childhood.

Looking down Marguerite noticed how flustered and unsettled the poor small dog had gotten. Quickly she bent down to pick him up which relaxed him luckily.

"Excuse me, I- I would love to stay, chat and take photos...but I have to be somewhere.." She felt her pulse pick up and her smile fell slight before she was quick to bring the corners of lips up again.

After pushing past the crowd, her quick pace was resumed only this time alittle bit quicker.

Everything had flipped upside down for Marguerite, her anxiety had gone crazy unfortunately.

Tears clouded on her waterline, quick and short intakes of breaths pushed passed her lips. She hadn't put down Leo yet, she wasn't even planning on doing so.

Y/n wanted to call Charles and Alexandra but she knew that she wouldn't get an answer so making a mad dash to Pascale would be her best option.

It didn't take long for the two to arrive at Pascales salon, rushing in as the tears started to fall over a plump cheeks. Heads turned but they all knew her. Pascale was excited to see the young girl and the small dog, however that excitement fell short when she noticed the anxiety attack happening.

She moved towards the teen, taking Marguerite into her arms. Pascale had a slight idea of what had happened. It wasn't the first time.

She spent the next hour calming down Y/n, letting her and Leo relax in the back office. After a while, the older women decided that she'd call Charles to take Marguerite home.

First call…ringtone.

Second call…ringtone.

Third times a charm…ringtone.

Her shoulders slumped at the unsuccessful third attempt, her manicured nails raking through her hair. As much as she loved Marguerite and Leo, Pascale knew this wasn’t the place for her to be in this state - She needed to be home.

“I think you might have to wait here for a little while Marguerite…until Charles or Alexandra pick up..”

Pascale had sympathy for the young girl, growing up in the limelight wasn’t something that came easy to anyone really.

-

Around about two hours later, Y/n’s phone started to buzz and Charles’ photo filled her screen. She was quick to pick up the phone and answer the call.

“Hi Charlie..”

Her voice was quiet and soft. And little sniffles came from her nose every so often.

On the other side of the call stood Alexandra and Charles back at the apartment, both confused as to where the teenager and the dog had gone.

“Hey Marguerite, where are you? Are you alright?” His voice was filled with concern and confusion. He was glad to hear her voice but it sounded different.

“Y-yeah…I’m with Pascale and Leo at the salon…” Charles watched as Alexandra picks up his keys, they’d meet her at the salon. “Charlie…I had an anxiety attack..”

You see the driver knew of her anxiety, he was similar and they could relate to each other. But it broke him to know that he wasn’t there to help her in a time in need, something he vowed to the late Jules to do in his honour.

Y/n took in another breath of air, relaxing herself once again. “I was walking with Leo and then…a bunch of fans came and bombarded me…really shook me”

There were annoyed frowns on the older couples faces, they truly love the fans but especially not when they do things like that. They just wished they’d understand respect and privacy.

“Okay..I’m so sorry Marguerite, we’re on our way to the salon now…you and Leo sit tight and relax”

Alexandra’s voice rang through the phone call, she always had a reassuring tone to her voice - Something Y/n always really appreciated.

“Hmm…guys?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you and thank you…” Their hearts just swelled.

“We love you too Marguerite..” Charles voice echoed back through to her, making sure she felt that same love and thankfulness she had for them.

-

[goldfades]

★ AND YOU SAY I ABANDONED THE SHIP / BUT I WAS GOING DOWN WITH IT / MY WHITE KNUCKLE DYING GRIP / SO HOW MUCH SAD DID YOU THINK I HAD, DID YOU THINK I HAD IN ME? / HOW MUCH TRAGEDY? / JUST HOW LOW DID YOU THINK I'D GO? ─── PB⁵ (part 1/2)

❪ requested -> paige and ex gf!reader that plays on iowa where theres a lot of tension on the court bc they ended on rough terms but u can see that they still care abt each other yet have to prioritize the game // hii could u write for paige x ex gf iowa!reader where they play against each other in the final four and everyone can tell theres sm tension on the court between them bc they ended on rough terms ? they still care abt each other a lot but r forced to put those feelings aside for the sake of the game (but they def had a talk afterwards) - u can make it so that iowa still won or uconn won i think either one would be interesting ! tysm ❫ part two!!!!!!!!!!

─ warnings | ANGSTTTTT!!!!!! mentions of transfers, fighting, paige being a BITCHHHH LIKE so mean (but its for the plot trust), banter at the end, mention of cc and kate martin, jealous!paige

─ ev's notes | tried a new format for the third little part thingy idk if yall like it but lmk (like the iowa game part)

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

JUNE 2022

Y/N L/N ANNOUNCES ENTERS THE TRANSFER PORTAL AFTER ALLEGED DISAGREEMENT OVER PLAYING TIME. In a surprising turn of events, UConn defensive star Y/N L/N has announced her decision to enter the transfer portal.

Despite the official narrative focusing on playing time, insiders report that L/N's decision is rooted in a desire to find a new environment where she can heal and focus on her game without the added stress of her recent breakup with Paige Bueckers, another star player for the Huskies. The emotional toll of the split has reportedly affected her performance and well-being, prompting her to make a fresh start at another school.

UConn’s coaching staff and teammates have expressed their support for L/N, acknowledging the challenges she has faced. "Y/N is an incredible athlete and person," said Coach Geno Auriemma. "We respect her decision and wish her nothing but the best in her future endeavors."

As L/N navigates this difficult period, she remains committed to her basketball career and is looking forward to finding a new team where she can continue to shine both on and off the court. While the specifics of her next move remained uncertain for a short time, it has now been confirmed that she will be transferring to Iowa.

Fans and fellow players have taken to social media to show their support for L/N, emphasizing the importance of mental health and personal well-being in the demanding world of collegiate sports. Iowa's coaching staff has expressed their excitement about welcoming L/N to the team. "We are thrilled to have Y/N join us," said Coach Lisa Bluder. "She brings exceptional talent and experience to our program, and we are committed to supporting her both on and off the court."

As Y/N L/N begins her new journey with the Iowa Hawkeyes, there is no doubt that she will continue to be a formidable presence in collegiate basketball. Her resilience and determination promise to make her time at Iowa just as remarkable as her tenure at UConn.

──

"So you're really doing it?" Paige's expression was unimpressed, bordering disgusted as she pushed herself between you and the door.

You sniffled, glaring at the blonde. "Get out of my way, Paige."

She crossed her arms, standing firm. "So that's it? You're just going to run away? Because of us?"

"It's not about that," you snapped, the weight of your duffel bag making your shoulder ache. "It's about me needing to be okay. And I can't do that here."

Paige's eyes softened for a moment, but she didn't budge. "Y/N, we're a team. You can't just leave us like this. Leave me like this."

You shook your head, frustration boiling over. "This isn't about the team. This is about us, Paige. I can't be around you every day, pretending like everything's fine when it's not. I'm not okay with being on the same team as you, do you get that, Paige?"

Paige's expression flickered with a mix of anger and something else — maybe hurt. "You think Iowa is going to magically fix everything? Running away doesn't solve anything, I promise you that."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "This isn't running away. This is me choosing to put myself first for once. I have to do this."

"What happened to loyalty? As soon as things get hard, you're running away! How does that make sense?" Paige let out a bitter laugh as you bit your lip, trying your best not to blow up. "God, what is wrong with you?"

You couldn't hold it in anymore. "You shouldn't be talking about loyalty, Paige! You left me, remember? We've been through-"

"Don't you dare say it, Y/N." Paige's voice was sharp, but you pressed on, the dam of emotions breaking.

"We've been through so much together, and you just threw it all away! You can't expect me to stay here and pretend like everything's fine when it's not."

Paige's eyes blazed with anger. "Oh, don't turn this around on me! You think you're the only one who got hurt? You think it was easy for me to make that decision? You're such a selfish-"

"Selfish?" you interrupted, your voice rising, ringing throughout the locker room. "I'm selfish for wanting to protect my mental health? I'm selfish for needing to get away from the constant reminder of what we had and lost?"

"You're selfish for abandoning the team! For abandoning me!" Paige shouted, her voice cracking. "Do you have any idea what it's going to be like without you here?"

"You don't get to play the victim," you shot back, tears streaming down your face as you sniffled. "You're the one who ended things. You don't get to decide how I cope with that."

Paige took a step closer, her face contorted with rage. "Fine, go to Iowa. Run away like a little pussy. But don't you dare come back and expect everything to be okay. Don't you dare think you can just waltz back into our lives when it suits you."

"That's not what I'm doing," you retorted, your voice shaking as you averted your gaze. "I need this, Paige. I need to get away from you."

"Then go!" she yelled, her voice echoing in the empty locker room. "But don't expect me to forgive you for this. For leaving when things got tough. For being a pussy."

"Oh, really?" You laughed, anger filling your body. "Fuck you. I thought we could be mature, but apparently we can't."

Paige's eyes flashed with fury. "Mature? You're the one who's bailing when things get hard! That's not mature, that's cowardly."

You clenched your fists, trying to keep your composure. "You think this is easy for me? You think I want to leave? I'm doing this because I have to, not because I want to. I'm trying to survive, Paige!"

"Survive?" she scoffed, stepping closer. "What about me? What about the team? We need you, and you're just walking away."

"I'm not your crutch," you shot back. "You have no right to make me feel guilty for taking care of myself. This isn't just about you, Paige. This is about my sanity, my well-being."

Paige's face twisted with a mix of anger and hurt. "Fine, go ahead and leave. But don't expect me to be here waiting for you when you decide to come back."

"I don't expect anything from you anymore," you replied coldly. "I'm done expecting anything from you."

Paige's expression darkened further, and she took another step closer, her voice lowering to a venomous whisper. "You know what? Maybe it's good you're leaving. No one needs your drama and bullshit. You're not as important as you think you are."

The words stung, cutting deeper than you expected. But Paige wasn't finished. "And let's be real, Y/N, Iowa's not going to "fix" you. You're still going to be the same fucked-up person, running from your problems. Maybe if you weren't so broken, none of this would have happened."

You felt as though the air had been sucked out of the room. Her words were like a knife twisting in your gut. You blinked back tears, feeling your heart shatter into even smaller pieces. "You... you have no idea what I've been through," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "To get here, to prove myself to everyone."

"Clearly, I don't," Paige shot back, her voice full of disdain. "Because if I did, maybe I would've seen what a complete waste of time it was to care about you."

The finality of her words was like a slap in the face. You stood there, stunned, feeling the weight of her anger and your own heartbreak. Without another word, you turned and walked out of the locker room, each step feeling heavier than the last.

As you stepped outside, the cool evening air did little to soothe the burning pain in your chest. Iowa was waiting, but now it felt more like an escape from a nightmare than a fresh start. You knew you could never go back, not after what had been said. The bridge between you and Paige was not just burned — it was incinerated.

Driving away, tears blurred your vision. The future was uncertain, and the path ahead seemed daunting. But one thing was clear: you were done with Paige, done with the hold she had over you. It was time to find a place where you could heal, far away from the person who had just torn your heart apart.

──

NOVEMBER 2022

"Welcome, everyone, to what promises to be an exciting game tonight!" The commentator's voice boomed through the arena. "We have Iowa facing off against Ohio State, and all eyes are on Y/N L/N, the transfer from UConn. Let's see how she gels with her new teammates, especially standout stars Caitlin Clark and Kate Martin."

"Y/N L/N, the former UConn star who made headlines with her controversial transfer, had seamlessly integrated herself into the Iowa lineup. Her defensive prowess, combined with her sharp shooting skills, had brought a new dimension to the team's gameplay."

"And there she is, folks! Y/N L/N, number 89, making her presence felt on both ends of the court. She's been a force to be reckoned with tonight, shutting down opponents left and right while sinking those crucial shots when her team needs them most."

From the moment the game tipped off, Y/N was in her element. She moved with a grace and confidence that captivated the audience, her presence on the court undeniable. Within minutes, it was clear that she had found her rhythm with her new team.

"Clark passes the ball to L/N... she fakes, drives to the basket... and what a beautiful layup! L/N puts Iowa on the board first with an impressive move."

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Y/N's teammates swarmed her, sharing her excitement. Clark gave her an encouraging pat on the back as she jogged back on defense.

"That's the kind of play Iowa fans were hoping to see from L/N," the commentator continued. "She brings a fresh energy and versatility to this team."

As the game progressed, Y/N's synergy with her teammates became even more apparent. She seamlessly integrated into the flow of Iowa’s offense, making smart passes and setting effective screens.

"Clark with the ball now, looking for an opening... she finds L/N at the top of the key. L/N drives, kicks it out to Martin on the wing... and it's a three! Kate Martin nails the shot, and L/N gets the assist."

Kate Martin and Caitlin Clark were all smiles, high-fiving Y/N as they took a moment to savor the play. The three of them were quickly becoming a formidable trio on the court, their chemistry undeniable.

"Y/N L/N is not just playing well—she's thriving," the commentator observed. "Her ability to read the game and make those around her better is exactly what Iowa needed."

In the second half, Y/N continued to shine, her defensive efforts just as impressive as her offensive contributions. She hustled for rebounds, dove for loose balls, and her tenacity was infectious.

"Ohio State struggling to get past L/N's defense... and she steals it! L/N on the fast break now... passes to Clark, who finishes with a perfect layup! What a dynamic duo!"

As the final buzzer sounded, Iowa secured a decisive victory. The scoreboard read 82-67, and Y/N's performance was a significant part of that success.

"And that's the game! Iowa takes the win, and what a debut for Y/N L/N. She finishes with 12 points, 7 assists, and 5 rebounds. An all-around stellar performance."

"And there you have it, folks! A stunning performance from the Iowa Hawkeyes, led by the dynamic trio of L/N, Martin, and Clark. With players like these, the sky's the limit for this team, and the rest of the league better watch out!"

As Y/N waved to the cheering crowd, she couldn't help but smile. This was the fresh start she needed, and it was only the beginning.

──

"Great game tonight, ladies!" The reporter started, a broad smile on her face. "Y/N, this was your debut with Iowa, and you were nothing short of fantastic out there. How does it feel to be part of this team?"

You smiled, your eyes twinkling with a mix of relief and joy. "It feels incredible. The support from the coaching staff, my teammates, and the fans has been amazing. I couldn't have asked for a better start here at Iowa."

Caitlin, sitting to your right, nodded enthusiastically. "Y/N has been a fantastic addition. Her energy and skills have really brought a new dynamic to our team."

Kate Martin chimed in, a playful grin on her face. "Yeah, she fits right in. It's like she's been here all along, like seriously."

The reporter continued, "Y/N, you and Caitlin seemed to have an almost telepathic connection on the court tonight. Can you tell us a bit about how you've built such strong chemistry so quickly?"

You glanced at Caitlin, who gave you an encouraging nod. "Honestly, it's been pretty natural. Cait is such a smart player, and she makes it easy to connect and play off each other. We've been putting in a lot of extra time together, and it's really paying off."

Caitlin added, "Y/N is a hard worker, and her basketball IQ is off the charts. We clicked from day one, and it's only getting better."

Kate, not wanting to be left out, jumped in with a laugh. "Don't forget about me! The three of us have really gelled as a unit. We push each other to be better every day."

You put your arm around the blonde, earning a laugh from her. "Don't worry, Katie we wouldn't leave you out."

The reporter smiled, clearly enjoying the dynamic. "It's great to see such strong teamwork and friendship! What's next for this Iowa team? How are you planning to build on tonight's performance?"

You looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. "We're just going to keep working hard, stay focused, and take it one game at a time. Tonight was a great win, but we know there's a lot of work ahead of us."

Caitlin nodded in agreement. "Absolutely. We have high expectations for ourselves, and we know we can achieve great things if we stick together and keep pushing."

Kate leaned in, her expression serious but with a hint of a smile. "We're aiming high. We want to make a deep run this season, and with Y/N on board, we feel like we can compete with anyone."

The interview wrapped up, and as the cameras turned off, the three players shared a group hug, your bond clear for everyone to see.

As they headed back to the locker room, Caitlin threw an arm around your shoulders. "You did great tonight. Welcome to the team, officially."

Kate added, "Yeah, we're glad to have you, Y/N. And this is just the beginning, trust."

──

"The fuck," Paige grumbled as she watched the post-game interview on TV, bitterness clear on her face. Nika and Aubrey exchanged amused glances as they watched Paige, who's eyes were glued on the screens.

Despite the fallout with Paige, you were still close with the rest of the team. You wouldn't let Paige get in between you and your old team, no matter the circumstances.

Paige's gaze finally averted from the screen, looking at the girls. "Does this shit not bother you guys like, not even a little bit?"

"Nah, P." Nika responded as she sighed, leaning back on the couch. "We're proud of her."

Aubrey continued, her tone gentle but firm. "I mean, you guys dated and shit. There's bound to be some bitter feelings, y'know."

Paige scoffed, crossing her arms tightly. "Yeah, well, it still sucks seeing her over there, acting like everything's fine."

Nika gave Paige a sympathetic look. "I get it, Paige. It's hard seeing someone you care about move on, especially after everything you two went through. But she's doing what's best for her. You have to respect that."

Aubrey nodded in agreement. "And honestly, she's killing it over there. Seeing her happy and thriving makes us happy, too. It's not about choosing sides—it's about supporting our friend."

"Did you hear her?" Their words went in one ear and out the other, her gaze turning back to the TV. "Oh Katie! We'd never leave you out. Like shut up," she mocked as Aubrey let out a laugh.

It was obvious she was jealous, it was a rare sight for the usually, confident blonde. Nika and Aubrey exchanged another glance, this time with knowing smiles. They could see right through Paige's facade.

"Wow, Paige, are you actually jealous?" Aubrey teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Never thought I'd see the day."

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. "I'm not jealous," she protested, though her tone lacked conviction. "I just don't like seeing her act all buddy-buddy with them."

"Sure," Nika said, leaning back and stretching. "It's just because she's happy and thriving without you, right?"

Paige shot her a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. "Shut up, Nika."

Aubrey laughed again, patting Paige on the shoulder. "It's okay to admit you miss her, Paige. We all miss her. But she's doing what she needs to do, and we have to respect that."

"I do respect that." Paige interjected, her voice defensive. The three of them quieted down, continuing watching the TV. "I guess she has a thing for blondes," she mumbled under her breathe.

"Come on, Paige!" Nika groaned as Aubrey began to laugh uncontrollably. "Stop encouraging her, Aubrey."

Paige rolled her eyes, a faint smirk playing on her lips despite herself. "What? It's true. First me, now Kate. Seems like she has a type. Blonde, 6ft and hoopers, I mean..."

Aubrey wiped away a tear from laughing so hard. "Oh my god, Paige. You're insane."

Nika shook her head, trying to suppress her own laughter. "First, you are not 6ft. And maybe it's time to focus on your game and let Y/N do her thing. You can't keep dwelling on this."

"Yes, I am! With shoes, I am." Paige sighed, the humor fading from her expression. "And I know. It's just hard, you know? Seeing her so happy without me. Without us."

Aubrey softened, leaning in to give Paige a reassuring pat on the back. "You'll get there. It just takes time. And who knows, maybe this will be a good thing for both of you in the long run."

Paige nodded, her eyes drifting back to the screen where Y/N was still beaming in the post-game interview. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

Nika stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "Alright, enough of this. Let's hit the gym. We have a season to focus on, and we need you at your best, Paige."

Paige took a deep breath, standing up as well. "You're right. Let's go."

Aubrey joined them, a supportive smile on her face. "That's the spirit. And remember, we're here for you, no matter what."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[lovesickonmybed]

What if Bully Ellie and the reader are exes and now Ellie just wants to make the reader's life miserable 💀💀 I will pay for it, bc I know she will be so mean to her but the moment a new girl wants to make a move on reader Ellie will lose it

better than me | 18+

masterlist | info about palestine | donate to gaza

pairing | bully!ex!ellie x ex!reader

synopsis | ellie isn't handling your break up well, her jealousy and anger taking over in the worst ways

warnings | 18+ MDNI!! wedgies, bullying, insults, jealousy, toxic behavior, sexual context, masturbation.

word count | 2k

a/n | honestly i'm kind of debating turning this into a miniseries because i really like this concept and kind of want to see where i could take it but let me know what y'all think!! i wrote this in the middle of the night with zero editing so if you see any mistakes no you don't. i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.

You and Ellie had a very messy breakup, one she couldn’t get over. So she started bullying you. It started your freshman year of college, only two weeks after the breakup. Ellie had gone up to you in the locker room at the school's gym. She looked at you with an angry glare, “Move, you’re in my way.” She glares at you with her arms crossed, she had never looked at you like that before. 

“Just go around, you can literally climb over the bench. I don’t wanna talk to you,” you say, the breakup still fresh for you. 

Ellie shoves you back lightly, not breaking her glare, “No. You’re gonna move.” This exchange had garnered them a crowd, a lot of the girls in the room glancing over at the pair. Ellie is stubborn but so are you.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? This isn’t you, Ellie!” You exclaim, not even caring if you’re causing a scene. You’ve never seen this side of her and it upsets you. You’re not even expecting it when she grabs you by your shoulders and spins you around, quickly pushing you face first against the cold metal lockers. She grabs the waistband of your gym shorts and pulls it away from your body, giving her access to your underwear. She wraps her fingers around your waistband and you beg as soon as you feel her cold fingers brush against your skin. 

“Ellie, whatever you’re about to do, don't do it, please! I-I’m sorry! I should’ve moved!” You plead with her to literally save your own ass. It doesn’t work. She grips the waistband, pressing her arm hard against your back to keep you in place.

“You should’ve listened to me when I told you to fucking move,” Ellie borderline snarls before pulling hard on your waistband, the cotton fabric of your panties forcing its way up and between your cheeks. You yelp in pain and instinctively try to run, causing Ellie to pull even harder, forcing you onto your toes in seconds. You try every trick in the book to escape the pain but it’s no use, she has you right where she wants you and you’re not going anywhere.

She pulls and pulls at your panties, hiking them up to your shoulders before letting go of your waistband, laughing when you whine as it snaps back against you. She continues to hold your body against the locker, pressing herself against you and gripping your hair painfully. “You better listen to me next time I tell you to do something you fucking loser,” she threatens before letting you go and shoving past you to get to her locker. You look around the locker room with embarrassment, looking down at the ground and trying to hide your face with your hair as you grab the rest of your things from your locker before running out of the locker room and back to your dorm. 

You encounter her again a week later, you’re out in the quad talking with a girl from one of your classes, her name is Layla. You’re both sitting on a blanket she brought, talking about an assignment, cracking jokes here and there. You’re having a great time, smiling bigger than you had in a while, cheeks flushed when she compliments you. It’s bliss until Ellie comes along. She’s walking back to her dorm after an annoyingly long lecture, she’s got an overpriced iced coffee in her hand that she bought from the campus coffee shop and a pissed off look on her face. 

She’s speed walking, wanting to get away from everyone and everything when she spots you and Layla. You’re leaning in and giggling, smiling like you did when you were with Ellie. It makes her heart ache and before she even realizes it she’s walking over to the both of you. Her mouth feels dry as she’s standing in front of you two. She looks down and feels nauseous as you both look up at her.

“Uh, can I help you?” You ask coldly, glaring up at her. She looks nervous, and it’s slightly amusing to you to see her like this. Your date grabs your hand reassuringly, aware of the incident that had happened a few weeks ago. 

“What are you doing?” Ellie asks, her mouth moving quicker than her brain. She mentally facepalms after realizing what she’s said. It’s obvious what you’re doing and Ellie fucking hates it. 

“We’re just…hanging out. Why do you care?” You respond, looking away from her, focusing your eyes on a bird flying around in the distance. 

Ellie shuffles her feet and racks her brain, trying to come up with a response. “I-I-” She cuts herself off, still trying to find the words.

“Can you just leave us alone, we’re just trying to hang out and enjoy some fresh air. We’re not bothering anyone, okay?” Layla says, speaking up for the both of you. This angers Ellie even more, she doesn’t want to hear a word Layla has to say. She’s seeing red, jealous when she knows she has no right to be. She wants to act logically but she can’t, she acts purely on emotion as she tosses her coffee at Layla. It sends you both gasping in surprise scooting back, but not near quick enough to avoid the splash. You groan as you realize your white shirt has been covered in Ellies drink. Ellie is just as shocked by her actions as you are, she’s quick to run off, wanting to get back to her dorm as quickly as possible. 

You and Layla scramble to figure out what to do, using the blanket to dry yourselves. All you do is make the stains on your shirt and light wash jeans even worse and you hang your head in embarrassment as she walks you back to your dorm. You let her borrow some clothes and your shower stuff as she goes and gets herself cleaned up, you can’t lie she looks pretty good in your clothes even if it is just a black t-shirt and some sweatpants. You have your turn to shower and change and when you finish up you go back into your room to talk to Layla.

“I’m so sorry about that, I had no idea she was gonna do that. She hasn’t been herself since we broke up, she’s all mean now, it’s weird…” You apologize, sitting down on your twin bed next to her, brushing through your wet hair. 

Layla looks at you and smiles reassuringly, “It’s not your fault. You’re not responsible for her now, if she can’t get over it she should talk to you instead of acting like such a dick. It’s not like you knew she’d do something so ridiculous.” You lay your head on her shoulder and look down at your lap. 

“I just feel bad you got caught up in this shit, she shouldn’t be messing with anyone else. I mean, she’s mad at me, there’s no reason for you to get caught in the middle of it,” you sigh. Layla once again grabs your hand, rubbing circles into your skin with her thumb. 

“She’s mad at me too for taking you out on a cute little picnic,” she chuckles, resting her head against yours. You feel comfortable and happy with her, but there’s a part of you that feels like something is missing. You push down the feeling, it’s not something you feel like addressing in the middle of such a sweet moment. You push back your memories of Ellie and let yourself smile as you and Layla cuddle up together. She stays over for an hour, cuddling with you and talking about class and getting to know each other better, you’re grateful she doesn’t bring up Ellie again. When she leaves she promises to return your clothes when she sees you again, you couldn’t care less if she did, she looks better in them, anyway. 

Ellie is freaking the fuck out when she gets back to her dorm room, completely out of breath as she had run the entire way there. She’s thankful Dina isn’t there as she collapses onto her bed hyperventilating. She hasn’t always been great at impulse control, everyone who’s known her has known this. But she didn’t think it was bad enough for something like that to happen. She knows she’s going about everything wrong, there’s no way she’s getting you back acting like that, but she doesn’t know how to get her shit together. 

“I’m so fucking stupid oh my goddd,” Ellie groans, grabbing her pillow and screaming into it in frustration. She’s embarrassed and angry and still feels pangs of jealousy as she thinks about you and Layla giggling together in the grass. Ellie had never taken you on a picnic, when you dated it was mostly arcade and movie dates, she hadn’t even thought you’d want to do something outdoors. She overthinks it, convincing herself you broke up with her because she never took you on a nature date. It’s a stupid, irrational thought, and Ellie knows that, but she doesn’t care. She needs to let herself spiral before she can pick herself back up and make a plan that doesn’t make you look at her like she’s a complete jackass. 

“I need to apologize, tell her I’m sorry for the wedgie and the coffee and fucking up her date…her date with that girl who doesn’t deserve her but whatever…” Ellie mumbles to herself, pulling at her hair stressfully. She thinks back to the wedgie incident, she completely humiliated you and it got her wet. Your pathetic little noises, how you were at her mercy like that, it just did it for her. She scrunches up her nose, trying to convince herself to stop thinking about it like that but it doesn’t take long for her to soak her panties once again. 

“If I take care of it, I’ll stop thinking about it,” she mutters as she tries to convince herself it’s okay to get off to the memory. She slips off her jeans and slips her hand under her panties, starting off by flicking her clit, whining pathetically at the sensation. She slips two of her fingers inside her soaked cunt, pumping them in and out slowly as she uses her thumb to stimulate her clit. She continues working her fingers in and out of her cunt as she bites her lip to keep her noises to a minimum. All she can think about is how pathetic you sounded as you took your wedgie, she replays the noises in her head, loving how you sounded. You never sounded like that when you had slept together, that was a side of you she didn’t get to see until she had your waistband in her hand. It doesn’t take her long to cum, whimpering out your name as she reaches her climax. She lazily works her way through her orgasm, wishing it was your fingers instead. She feels guilty afterwards, mumbling to herself that she’s not doing that again.

She forces herself to get out of bed and into the cramped bathroom she shares with Dina so that she can wash off her shame. Little does she know that you’re in your dorm room doing the same, pumping your fingers in and out of your cunt shamefully as you use your other hand to pull your panties like Ellie had. The feeling of powerlessness, pain, and humiliation had all combined into pleasure in your brain. You halfway moan Ellie’s name when you cum, cutting yourself off when you realize what name is leaving your lips. “I’m never doing that again,” you promise yourself as the shame bubbles up inside of you. For once you’re grateful for your roommate to come bursting in the door, you let her nonsensical rant about whatever show she was watching distract you from the lingering thoughts of Ellie’s hands on your waistband.

[starwrighter]

Dude, get a restraining order

(Masterpost) (Ao3 link) (Previous) (Next)

(As promised Damian falls in love at first sight!)

Minutes ticked by like hours as his English teacher droned on about topics he’d learned years ago. Surface-level information dumbed down to its simplest form. Todd had already given him the assigned book years ago. A classic written sometime in the 1950s. He’d claimed it’d be a book he could relate to. He’d quizzed himself, writing an essay to prove he actually read it when Todd came around again. 

He guessed that’s why when the discussions of symbolism and deeper meanings started, his interest plummeted. He focused on a worksheet, only half listening as the teacher read aloud. Vocabulary and its context, all of it so dull. painfully easy, but still father wouldn’t allow him to skip grades, nor would the school. Something about him having “Poor social skills,”

Tch, lies and slander. It wasn’t his fault his classmates were too cowardly to speak to him face to face. They’d been the ones to label him as intimidating and cold. If not being a spineless pushover made him intolerable, then he didn't want to be friendly. He wouldn’t allow himself to be taken advantage of, and he sure as hell wouldn’t let anyone talk down to him without facing the consequences. 

He didn't need to be social with these hooligans. A waste of time! Plus, he’s certain everyone in class already held a certain distaste for him. It’d be better if he was homeschooled, but father said he needed to be seen by the public so the media wouldn't talk. Journalists and tabloid writers were like vultures they'd squawk regardless if he was in school or not. Father hadn't seen his argument valid so he was stuck with yet another year of this dull nonsense.

A new transfer student from a small town in Illinois should be here today. An outsider spending a whole seven months in Gotham, it should be equal parts entertaining as it’d be inconvenient. The backlash that’d hit them if they let said transfer student die within city borders would be tremendous. He could only hope this Daniel Fenton wasn’t just late and instead backed out like any sensible person would.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case as the teacher stepped outside, coming back with a smile of faux sweetness on their face, waving her hand, signaling someone inside.

A boy with eyes blue like sapphire stones stepped into the classroom. His shoulders lax but the way he fidgeted in place screamed he’d rather be anywhere but here. His features were soft, electrical scaring running down the left side of his face, creeping down the boy’s chin and neck. Hair pitch black with short splotches of white-ish gray framed his face. A small silver necklace shaped like Saturn hung from his neck, a clear dress code violation, but clearly, he hadn’t been accosted for it yet. Their teacher encouraged him to introduce himself.

“Hi, My name’s Danny and I hope I don’t die here,” Daniel joked, his posture jovial despite the morbidity of his words.

“Though, I wouldn’t be shocked if I did,” He finished, earning a quiet chuckle from those who could see the boy’s scars. 

Daniel glanced around the front row, eyes landing on the empty spot beside him. Daniel quickly took this spot without hesitation, ignoring the multiple students who waved him over with a simple gesture to the left side of his face.

With a closer view of Daniel's left eye, he could see the slight milky discoloration of the pupil and iris. He's likely blind in that eye, but the circumstances of him being born with the impairment are unlikely, judging by the damage around his eye socket. It had healed well for what he could only infer was a grievous injury. The scar tissue looked fresh, no older than a year or so, signaling this partial blindness was relatively new.

He seemed relieved that the teacher was reading out loud like nobody had offered him any sort of accommodation for his disability. Considering Daniel came from a small town in Illinois, he doubted any school accommodations were made for him besides maybe a week or so off school when he was recovering. Gotham wasn’t much better, but Father poured a decent amount into the city’s healthcare and educational systems. 

“Tuck your necklace under your shirt,” He whispered to his new seatmate when the teacher turned her back. “It breaks the dress code, you’ll never get it back if a teacher spots it,” A warning deadly serious, a bit stern for something as frivolous as a piece of jewelry, but Daniel looked as if that simple warning had saved his life. Daniel shoved the necklace under his dress shirt with alarming speed, tucking the thin, bronze chain beneath his collar, making the boy’s neck look deceptively bare. 

They both continued their work in silence, mutual respect between the two of them to stay out of each other’s way. When Daniel’s pencil lead broke, Damian offered him a sharpener. When their teacher called on him despite his hand being down, Danny answered instead, giddy that “he” was called on. Giving the English teacher the easy choice of admitting she was targeting students or playing the part of a welcoming teacher eager to have the half-blind kid engage with her class.

Daniel did it on purpose too, that was sure. He made class time more bearable that was certain as well. The way his seatmate engaged the subject in an intelligent manner despite frequent mutters of English not “being his subject,” was admirable.

When brought into discussion, Daniel meshed with his new peers relatively quickly, quick to snap in with a clever quip when the opportunity arose. He was by no means a social butterfly but fell into the rhythm of a conversation with practiced ease. 

Often, when not writing he fidgeted, picking at black and white polish on his nails or twirling a pencil between two fingers. He’d rest his face on his palm and pursed his lips when confused. Though his mannerisms were somewhat awkward, some might call them cute.

It wasn‘t long until class was over, the bell calling all the students to coagulate by the door, slowly filing into the hallway. All except him and Daniel, who stared at a schedule and a map with furrowed brows. They shared their next class too, an idea that filled him with an odd giddiness.

Damian pulled a copy of his own schedule from his bag, tapping Daniels's shoulder and showing him their matching second-hour classes.

“It would be easier if we went together,” 

Daniel smiled, canines sharpened to a point. His heart boomed in his chest, a strange but…Pleasant experience. It was too early to tell, but he thinks he’ll enjoy having Daniel here for the next seven months.

[bruciemilf]

A crack treated seriously concept that I have just swimming in my mind;

Runaway sugar baby Bruce Wayne AU.

Here's the thing; Bruce and Harvey are married. Bruce may not realize they are! but they are.

Oblivious fucker really went,

" yes, I will have children with my best friend, raise them together happily, occasionally have sex, and wear this cool ring he gave me. Platonically, of course."

I think it all started when Tim came home from school, wearing a bit of a guilty expression, asking with a pinch embarrassment if Bruce could pretend to be a doctor for career day.

Bruce blinks, " I am a doctor, darling." Graduated with flying colors, mind you!

"Well, yeah, but...You know, not anymore. "

True. Ever since he adopted Jason and Tim, he just found it harder and harder to leave home. They were just too precious and he didn't want to miss a moment!

"I just don't understand why he'd lie about it."

"I can," Harvey looks so handsome, arranging his tie. He does a mess of it, but he doesn't look less tantalising,

" Little brats would be...Yknow, mean. They get finicky when they see a weak spot."

He knows it's Harvey because there's no accent melting like whisky on his mouth. " Weak spot?"

" doll, cmon, --"

" I do work, Harvey. Just because it's not defending criminals doesn't mean it's less vital."

" I knowthat. But you're also a rich guy who, let's face it, wouldn't need to work a day In his life. And that's fine by me. "

because Harvey HATED seeing his mom break her back to support their family when his father was drowning face down in debts.

He wouldn't put anyone through that, let alone his pretty little husband. But Bruce doesn't take this well.

" well! I'll show you! I'm more than capable of making it on my own, I'll prove it!"

Now. Bruce doesn't think too much. He's not an expert in it. Man can stitch up a 5 inch incision with floss, but his own well being? Leave it to Alfred.

But he'll make them proud. So next time, they don't have to lie.

He just packs up way too many luggages, packs Damian up too, and leaves while Harvey's at oh his back breaking, gruelling office job.

It's only when he's on a bus that he realizes he forgot the rest, but that'd be cruel! Their boys loved their father.

Dick, who's in his I Hate Dad phase, is extremely hysterical while they leave to find Bruce. Only stopping occasionally to fix his eyeliner, then start over again.

Jason, Harvey's second oldest, drives beside them on his motorbike.

He guesses its an extra middle finger to him to not wear a helmet. His beloved little hellion, raised on the devil's edge.

"Listen to me; If I find him, I'm moving back home. If I don't, I'll put you in the ground."

" I'll let you."

Now; Bruce does find a place. It's a little town with big characters.

Harley has a diner that she's more than happy to welcome him in, even if Bruce, Spoiled Spouse of the Year, can't quite pick up.

Anything for old roomies.

But there is someone in there who catches Bruce's attention. Towns mechanic.

Clark, his name tag says, who played with Damian behind Bruce's back while he talked to Harley.

He smells of salty motor oil; Fresh sweat, smoked apple pie. His eyes are dreamy blue, rendered with sharp cleverness. And Clark likes him.

Clark recommends him a good motel, brings Damian some toys to play with, even brings his own babies so they can have a playdate. " They're not mine. The toys! These two are. I have a receipt from the hospital."

"...A birth certificate?"

He's delightfully awkward.

When Harvey comes to pick him up, when Bruce jumps in his arms, claws at a pristine shirt stained with his brand new blisters and cracks and worked hands, he's not awkward.

He's disappointed; Like Bruce strangled the joy from his soul.

"You're...Married?"

When Bruce and Harvey respond, in perfect, consice sync, " Oh no, darling,--" " Yes he is, four eyes--" they're ALL confused.

"Oh, dear..."

[drvmekoo]

regroup | jeon jungkook [part one]

summary: drifting away from your best friend is never an easy thing to deal with. its a good thing a very important project is forcing you both to regroup

➳ pairing: jungkook x reader (f)

➳ genre: college au, fluff, angst, smut (eventually)

➳ rating: 18+

➳ warnings: just some swearing!

➳ wc: 1.3k+

➳ author's notes: part one is now here! let me know what you think of it so far! I love all the feedback!

PROLOGUE | PART ONE | PART TWO

“You got WHO?” Namjoon covered his mouth in shock. “I’m sorry to say this Y/n but… you’re royally fucked.”

You groaned “Please don’t tell me what I already know Joon! I mean Jeon Jungkook! Are you serious? It’s like I’m being punished for something!”

It was a new and sunny day on campus, students all over the grounds were talking and laughing, some rushing through small crowds to make it to their classes on time. You and Namjoon decided to join the many people already there and sit on the grass, taking advantage of no lectures, blue skies and missed sunshine. At Namjoon’s continuing criticisms of your new project partner, you fell on your back in the soft grass and covered your face with your arms 

“What am I gonna do?” you sighed “I didn’t reply to his text yesterday because there’s no way I’m gonna succeed going through with this! I need to get my partner changed.”

Namjoon too sat back on his arms “Look…maybe this’ll be a good thing! You said you haven’t spoken since school started right? Maybe this can be a fresh new start for you two?”

“Have you seen the people he hangs out with now? He’s in Jimins’ assemble! You know that little posse better than anyone!” You took your hands away from your face “We have nothing in common besides our parents anymore. It’s better if we just….avoid each other altogether!”

Namjoon smiled sympathetically before looking over your shoulder and widening his eyes “Uh well... You better think of a plan to put that idea in motion because guess who’s heading our way right now.”

Before you could turn around to get a glimpse yourself, you heard him first 

“You know, ignoring my texts really hurt my ego last night Y/n!”

“Oh boy,” you said under your breath before turning around to greet him. “What do you want Jungkook.” 

Beside him, Jimin smirked as Jungkook chuckled at your dry response “Oh come on, don’t be like that! You’ve known me forever!”

He pouted teasingly. Then his eyes travelled to Namjoon. 

“Who’s your friend?” His cocky grin faltered a little. What was that all about?

“This is my friend Namjoon if it’s any of your business.”  

“Oh yeah!” Jungkook waved at Jimin beside him as his gaze was still locked on Namjoon “Jimin told me about the quiet kid on the floor below.”

Namjoon blandly stared at Jimin, greeting him with a slight nod.

“Look.” You sighed, tired of the weird tension that was forming. “I knew you, let's get that straight. Now, why do you need me?”

Jungkook finally tore his attention away from your friend beside you at your interruption. “You know exactly why I need you Y/n. You and I have a project to work on and…times ticking!” He cockily pointed at his wrist to stimulate a watch. 

You sighed loudly. Before, you were hell-bent on switching partners. No way were you ruining your perfect grades for Jeon Jungkook. But now, standing in front of him, your mind had stopped being so critical. Maybe Joon was right, maybe this was a way of getting back in touch with your best friend that you once cherished and loved.

Looking at Namjoon for confirmation, he nodded slightly in comfort.

“Fine.” your fists clenched at your acceptance “If we’re gonna do this, you have to be fully committed. You have to be on time at ALL of our meetings. I’m deadly serious Jungkook.

“It’s very cute how much you don’t trust me but I think I can handle being on time!”

You blushed at the sudden compliment before coming back to reality ‘Oh yeah like you ‘handled’ making it to class yesterday?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Are we doing this or not? When do you wanna meet? Whenever is good for me.”

“Ummm…how about tonight? 6 pm at my dorm?”

He smirked “A little intimate don’t you think?”

Panicking slightly, you replied. “We can go to the communal space if you want!”

“Relax, I'm teasing you.’ He laughed openly. “Your dorm is fine. You live on the East block, right?”

You nodded “Room 218.”

“See you there.” He was already walking away before you could respond. Namjoon uttered a dull “Jimin.” as he too walked off alongside Jungkook, repeating in the same tone a “Namjoon” as a goodbye. 

After they were out of sight, Namjoon turned to you “Yeah you’re still fucked.”

- 

Damn, right you were absolutely fucked. 

The time was 7:30 pm. And there was no sign of Jungkook anywhere. 

You scrolled through all the notes you had individually made for yourself about the project, eager to share with Jungkook to make the whole process a lot easier. But after a while, it looked like he wasn’t even coming. 

Closing down all your tabs, you decided to finally put your stuff away when suddenly there was a frantic knock on your door.

You froze, knowing exactly who that was. 

“Y/n. I know you’re in there, I can see the light coming from under the door.” The well-known voice said. 

You cursed under your breath before opening the door slowly. “I thought we said 6 pm, Jeon?”

“Hey, you’re lucky I turned up!” He invited himself in, brushing past you and taking his jacket off “So, let’s hear the ideas!”

You scoffed, gobsmacked at his entrance. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? You need to get out.”

“Wow, you curse now? Never used to when we were younger?” he chuckled under his breath, flopping onto your bed. “Anyways why are you in such a rush to get me out? Your boyfriend Namjoon coming over?”

Rolling your eyes, you spat “Namjoon isn't my boyfriend? And anyways what's it to you?”

He stared at you as he sat back on your bed. “Wait, he’s not?” His entire demeanour had changed, his cocky attitude sunny disintegrating. 

“No. He’s just a friend..”

Jungkook nodded slightly, seemingly in deep thought.

After a while of silence, you decided to break it “Jungkook, is there something you needed? I’ve waited for you all evening and I’m actually very tired so-”

“I can’t believe you still kept that thing.” He interrupted.

“...What thing?”

He pointed over to the dangling key chain attached to your keys laid across your desk. Both of you had made each other key chains during the summer before last. Each of them had a mini photo of you and him together when you were younger, both of your faces exploded in a massive grins.

“Oh…well…yeah, of course, I did. Part of the promise remember?”

Jungkook was instantly transported to that very summer. You and he made a pact to keep it forever otherwise your friendship was classed as ‘bogus’ He smiled at the simplicity of your minds back then. Although the promise was very stupid, his heart grew at the fcat that you still kept yours.

“How have you been Y/n?”

“What?”

“How has everything been?” He repeated, his wide eyes staring at you deeply. 

Your brows furrowed, “I-I've been…okay? Kook…what are you doing?” you continued lightly

He smiled sweetly “I’ve missed that little nickname.” He got up from the bed and strode over to you. “I’ve missed you.”

The proximity of your bodies so close together made you weary. What was happening right now? Why all of a sudden was this happening? You couldn’t get your head straight right now. You needed space. 

“I think…” you stepped away from him “I think you should go.”

“Y/n-”

“We’ll reschedule for tomorrow… 3 pm in the library.” Opening the door for him, you beckoned him out “Don’t be late.”

He stared at you a while longer, before getting his coat and walking out. Quietly, he turned around to face you again “I’ll be there.”

He started to walk away but then doubled back again 

“Y/n.” He caught the door before you could close it shut.

“For what it’s worth…..I kept mine too.”

@thvkives @sugaminh @kooromiwrld @no-regrets-just-confusion @leethvjkk @petalsofink @secretlypg95 @bangtans-momma @ane102 @v-taeunofficial @kc204 @jjeonjjk7 @toraluvs

[lilyyyyyyy123]

Headlights

summary : Y/N’s new life in a vibrant coastal city feels both thrilling and overwhelming. The house is everything her mom dreamed of, but Y/N struggles with feelings of displacement. The house’s beauty contrasts the ache of being far from her dad, and while her mom embraces the fresh start, Y/N contemplates escaping it all, even school. However, her journey takes a turn when the neighbors—Ward and Rose, along with their three kids—arrive to welcome her. As Y/N gets to know the neighbors, a connection with Sarah quickly forms, though tension simmers between Rafe and Sarah. When Sarah invites Y/N to a party, Rafe’s dismissive attitude only adds to the complex dynamic. As Sarah prepares for the party, Y/N takes her time getting ready, feeling a bit out of place in her own skin. Yet, with Sarah’s comforting presence and support, Y/N finds herself laughing, enjoying the process, and feeling a little more confident.

3.3k words!

CW: Language, overthinking, lmk if there's anything else!

reblog, likes, and comments aren't expected but are very appreciated! <3

Staring out the window, you can’t help but be captivated by the sight of the water, its shimmer under the sun both calming and beautiful. The new city feels like it’s calling you, but at the same time, there’s a knot of anxiety in your chest. It’s exciting, sure, but also a little overwhelming. You want to embrace it, but the unfamiliarity of it all weighs on you. Your mom is practically glowing with happiness, and you can’t help but smile for her—this new start means so much to her. But there's a sting in your heart, a quiet ache that settles deep, because your dad is so far away. 

The school seems okay—nothing spectacular, but manageable. Still, you can’t help but think about how easy it would be to find a way out, a way to avoid it all. You already know the escape routes, the ways to slip through unnoticed. It’s tempting, but you know there’s more to this than just skipping the year. Deep down, you realize that even though it’s hard, you’re going to have to face this new chapter head-on, no matter how much you want to run from it.

The car came to a stop, and you couldn’t help but stare at the house—stunning, larger than anything you’d ever known. It felt almost too much for just the two of you, but you knew Brad, your mom’s boyfriend, would be moving in soon. Brad, the bald-headed bastard, you thought. 

You stepped out of the car, heading inside when your mom called out, “Hey, Y/N, grab your bag and come in!” The least you could do was grab your bag, but all you really wanted was to disappear into your room. The house felt foreign, even with its shiny newness, the smell of fresh paint filling the air. The kitchen was everything you’d dreamed of, the windows large enough to frame a perfect view of the ocean.

“Admiring my hard-earned money, or just checking out the yacht?” your mom jokes, her pride in her new life spilling out. You couldn’t stop yourself from snapping back, 

“How can you say that so casually? We’ve never had any of this.” Your voice sounded sharper than you meant it to. She smiled, unaware of the weight behind your words. 

“Well, enjoy it, sweetheart. I’m so happy I bought this place.” You nodded, but the emptiness lingered as you muttered, “I will… but I’m going to my room.” It was all too perfect, and yet, somehow, it felt like you didn’t belong.

You walked up the stairs, papers on the doors, mumbling to yourself as you read through them: “Office one, bathroom three, guest room two, Y/N's room!” You couldn't help but note the layout—your room was tucked away at the far side of the house, accessible only by crossing a small “bridge” that connected the wing. The thought of it gave you a strange sense of peace, like you were getting your own little corner of the world. From here, you could see the front door, a small, simple luxury: privacy. Everything and more you could ask for.

You cracked your bedroom door open, and your jaw dropped. The room was massive—bigger than your old living room, and the bathroom? It felt like you’d stepped into a spa. This was real. This was happening. Just as you were about to head toward the closet, there was a knock at the door. You rushed to your door, peeking over the wall, and saw what looked like a family standing in the hallway. Your mom, along with Brad, of course, walked toward the front door. She opened it, smiling brightly, and there, standing with them, was a girl who looked to be about your age.

“Hello! I'm Sarah and this is my brother Rafe “sup” my little sister Weezie “hi, you are so gorgeous!” and-" 

"Sorry my daughter is very excited, I'm Ward Cameron, and this is my wife Rose”Hello!”, we live down the street and we wanted to come and welcome you!”

 “Aww well this is so sweet and thank you..weezie. Come in!” 

She hesitated, her voice faltering slightly as she said, "Weezie?" It was clear she wasn’t sure of herself, but my mom gently led them in, starting with Ward and Rose. Weezie followed, and then Sarah and Rafe entered last. I found myself watching them, especially Rafe. There was something about the way he moved—like he was surveying everything, taking it all in. And then, our eyes met. The moment froze, and for a split second, I forgot how to breathe. My heart skipped, a wave of warmth rushing over me, and I quickly ran away, hoping he hadn’t noticed. But then I heard it. A soft chuckle, just loud enough for me to hear. My cheeks flushed, and I couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or something else.

“Y/N! Y/N!” 

My mom’s voice cut through the haze, pulling me out of my thoughts. No, no, no—I wasn’t ready for this. I glanced at myself in the mirror, and I could feel the panic rising. Mascara smudged, sweatpants, a tight top—no bra, of course. This wasn’t exactly "company ready." But there was no time to fix it now, so I did the only thing I could think of: crossed my arms, forced a smile. What’s the harm in that, right?

“Coming!” I called out, my voice a little too loud as I slowly made my way down the stairs. Of course, the second I stepped into the room, all eyes were on me. It felt like the floor had turned into glass, and I was walking on it, trying to hold it all together. My heart raced, but I kept my smile fixed, hoping it was enough to cover the nerves.

“Well, this is my kid, Y/N,” my mom said with a light chuckle. “I’m not sure if she’s gonna be shy or turn into an extrovert!” The room filled with laughter, and I couldn’t help but feel a little awkward.

But then, I caught Rafe’s eyes. His blue eyes. They were so intense, so captivating, and he didn’t look away. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me as I made my way down, and my heart started to race. My cheeks warmed, the heat creeping up faster than I could control. I tried to look anywhere but at him, but it was too late. The moment felt like it was stretching forever.

“Hi I'm y/n, we just got here, so i'm sorry for not looking that presentable.” 

I glanced around the room and caught sight of that one girl. I couldn’t help but smile at her, a small, genuine smile that felt easy, almost like an unspoken connection. There was something about her, something inviting, and it made me feel a little less out of place at that moment.

“hi im so sorry what's your name, you're gorgeous by the way” 

“oh my thank you so much, surprised i just got complimented by the most gorgeous girl i've ever met! but i'm sarah and i live a couple houses down, and jeez your house is so pretty and the view, ahhhh, i will be coming over a lot!” 

“thanks so much!” you both laugh, and you can tell you're gonna be very close from now on. 

“Hello” you shake hands with ward and rose. 

“Well aren't you a dime, i hope our children become close because y'all are amazing!” Rose said “thank you!”. “Well you children get going.” ward says

“Hey, can I see your room?” 

“Sure, follow me, you guys can come too!” 

You looked back, expecting Sarah, but no. It was rafe, he grinned, the kind of grin that made your heart skip. That damn grin was back. And you couldn’t tell if it made you nervous or if, somehow, it made you want to smile back. You quickly turned your attention to Weezie, and her face lit up, a perfect contrast to the tension in the air.

“So my room is right over here! Not very decorated but yea!”

 “Oh my DREAM! y/n i am coming over everyday, and this bathroom, and huge clost best get ready room EVER!!” 

a smile formed on her face, and it made you smile. 

“Thanks for putting a smile on my face sarah!” 

Rafe walked over and sank into your bed, a quiet sigh escaping him as he settled in. You couldn’t help but steal a glance at him. You understood why your bed was the kind of comfort you could lose yourself in, and somehow, seeing him there, made you uncomfy. It was hard to blame him for seeking that warmth, for needing that small moment of peace.

Sarah: "Speaking of, there's a party tonight!"

You: "Ugh, my mom hates parties..."

Sarah: "No, it’ll be fun! You can meet my friends—"

Rafe: "Uh, no. Y/N’s not going to be part of THAT group." His face twisted with disgust.

Sarah: "Excuse you?" You shot a sharp look at Rafe. "You don't get to decide that. She’s MY friend—well, my BEST friend, not yours."

The tension between Sarah and Rafe exploded in an instant, Sarah’s voice rising, Rafe’s eyes rolling. But as the fight continued, you noticed Rafe’s gaze drift to you. His eyes swept over you, slow and calculating, making you shift uncomfortably. It was like he was dissecting you, and you couldn’t quite figure out why it felt so invasive.

Ward: "Kids, we need to leave."

Weezie: "Well, it was nice meeting you all!" She waved as she headed out the door, and you followed quickly, wanting to escape the awkward tension.

Sarah: "Wait, can I get your number? I’ll text you about the party later!"

You: "Oh yeah, that’s smart!" You tried to shake off the feeling, but it lingered, the discomfort still heavy in the air.

 You exchanged numbers with Sarah, the moment feeling unexpectedly significant, but it wasn’t until later that you realized how much time had passed. Rafe and Weezie were already long gone, and you were still standing there, caught up in the conversation. Walking Sarah out, you shared a few light laughs, but the whole time, something felt off. When you turned back, there he was, Rafe, standing at the door, his eyes locked onto yours, not saying a word. He didn’t move, didn’t leave, not even after Sarah had walked away. It was like he was waiting for something, something only he knew. And for the first time, you couldn’t tell if he was just hesitant or if there was something more he needed to say… something he wasn’t ready to let go of.

You: “Uhm rafe what are you still doing here?” 

“I wanted to be the last out," he whispered, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite place. His eyes never left yours. Intense, almost too intense, like he was trying to say something he couldn’t put into words. Every beat of silence between you felt heavier, charged with unspoken tension. He wasn’t just looking at you; he was searching you, as if trying to hold onto something that was slipping away. And in that moment, all you could do was stand there, caught in the gravity of his gaze, your heart racing with the weight of everything that was left unsaid.

"Oh, uhm, well, you're last now. Bye... maybe see you later!" You tried to sound casual, but your words faltered as he turned to leave. 

Just as he reached the door, he paused, his back still to you, and with a playful grin on his face, he added, "Bye, headlights!" 

“Headlights?” The words echoed in your mind, a quiet, awkward repetition that seemed to get louder with each passing second. The words hung in the air, lingering in your chest long after the door clicked shut behind him.

It was a joke, but there was something in the way he said it. Almost teasing, yet somehow full of meaning, like he wasn’t just saying goodbye. You couldn’t help but feel that lurking jugement. He laughed at himself, you saw it, that carefree sound ringing in the air before he turned and left. 

It hit you—he’d been staring, hadn’t he? Bored, maybe, just looking around and... landing on you. And then it clicked. *Of course.* He’d probably noticed everything—the way your shirt fit, how your body moved, maybe even the way your nerves had shifted under his gaze. You couldn’t help but wonder, was he looking at your chest? You winced. *Classy.* 

I walked up the stairs slowly, each step feeling heavier than the last. The hallway seemed longer, the air thicker as I made my way toward my room. As I pushed the door open, the weight of the quiet room hit me—almost like I had been carrying the weight of his words on my shoulders, all the way up.

Those words kept playing over and over, making you feel strangely exposed, like you couldn’t hide behind the layers of comfort you thought you had. You hadn’t meant for it to feel this way, but suddenly, you were hyper-aware of everything. Your body, your own insecurities, but, was it really as bad as it seemed? He probably hadn’t meant anything rude. Maybe he was just trying to make a joke, something light to break the silence, to keep things casual. He probably didn’t even realize how much it was affecting you. But that one word—just that one little slip—had planted a seed of self-consciousness that you couldn’t shake, and it left you wondering if you’d ever be able to look at him the same way again.

You decided to call your boyfriend (Jhett) to tell him all about the new house—the size, how cool and spacious everything was, and how amazing your room felt with all its privacy. It felt good to share the excitement with him. Just as you were finishing up, your phone buzzed with a call from Sarah.

You told him how the neighbors stopped by earlier, and you ended up meeting the husband and wife, along with their three kids. It was nice, though a bit overwhelming at first. They seemed really friendly, and the kids were extremely nice.

*ding*

*Hey, can I come over and get ready? Party starts at 10 on the beach*message from sarah* 

It was 6:00. Four hours left? Do we really need four hours? 

*FACETIME FROM SARAH*

Sarah: "Hey, girl!"

You: "Hey!"

Sarah: "So, can I come over now?"

You: "Of course! Just walk in when you get here, and I’ll be ready to help."

Sarah: "Okay, see you in a sec! Bye!"

You: "Bye!"

*CALL ENDS*

Sarah walks in and mom sees her.

Mom:"Hey sweetie, are you here for Y/N?"

Sarah:"Yep! Can she come with me to hang out with me and my friends?"

Mom:"Of course, she's just in her room! I’m about to order some food—what would you like?"

Sarah:"Aww, thanks for asking! What are you having?"

Mom:"Well, I’ve got a charcuterie board here if you want some, and I can grab a pizza too!"

Sarah:"Ooo, yum! I’ll take some of that in a sec, but just cheese is perfect, thanks!"

Mom:"Alright, sweetie, have fun! Tell Y/N to come down soon to pick her dinner."

Sarah:"Yes, ma'am!"

Sarah heads upstairs, and knocks softly on your door.

Sarah:"Knock knock!"

You:"Hey, let me help you with that!"

Sarah: "I’ll just set a few things in the bathroom!"

Sarah: "Oh, also—your mom is ordering pizza, and seriously, why is she so good at making charcuterie boards? We have to go downstairs and try some! And she wants to know your order."

You:"I know, right? She’s basically a charcuterie queen!"

You both walk down the stairs, your stomach growling as the smell of the spread hits you.

You:"Mom, I just want cheese, cinnamon twists, ranch, and a Dr. Pepper, thanks!"

Mom:"Got it, love you too!"

You and Sarah start digging into the charcuterie board, the room filled with the comforting warmth of friendship, laughter, and the kind of moments that make you feel right at home.

Then back upstairs we go. 

“Ima take a shower, it will be quick don’t worry!”-you

“Ok im start getting ready when you get out of the shower so no rush!”-sarah

“Oh ok hahaha”-you

You get in the shower, and you wash every bit of yourself and shave everything, so you spend 30 minutes in the shower, the “quick” shower turned into a everything shower. Getting ready with Sarah was the best, she kept complimenting you on your smell and the products that I used. Also she would share all her stuff. I blow dried my hair and curled it. And did a quick soft makeup look, and a mauve slightly pink lip gloss. 

Now it was time for the outfit. Sarah had it all figured out, her choice was effortless. She’d picked out some jean shorts paired with a white crochet top, and underneath, a bikini that completed the look perfectly. It was simple, stylish, and she looked amazing.

Meanwhile, you were left digging through your bins of clothes, trying to pull something together. After rifling through, you pulled out a pair of jean shorts. It was safe, easy, something you couldn’t go wrong with. But as you reached for a top, you felt a wave of hesitation. You picked a solid blue bikini. You knew you weren’t planning on swimming—not today, not with how you were feeling about your body. It was just under the clothes, a reminder that you could have fun if you wanted, even if you didn’t feel comfortable just yet. 

Then you threw on an oversized graphic tee—something that didn’t cling, that let you breathe. It was the perfect compromise: a little bit of your own style, but with a sense of security, just enough to help you feel like you could enjoy the night without worrying about anything else.

Sarah: "Ayyy, that swimsuit is so cute!"

You: "Aww, thanks! I was just admiring your outfit too!"

Time had slipped by faster than you realized—before you knew it, it was already past 10.

Sarah: "Hey, are you ready to head out? Can we take my car?"

You: "Oh yeah, for sure! Let's go!"

There was that buzz of excitement in the air as you both grabbed your things and headed out, eager for the night ahead. Everything felt like it was falling into place—small moments, laughter, and the comfort of being with someone who just got it. You could already feel the anticipation of what was to come.

You and Sarah make your way down the stairs, the soft murmur of your footsteps filling the quiet house. As you reach the bottom, your eyes land on your mom, sitting in the kitchen, lost in whatever she was doing. You give her the usual automatic goodbye, a quick “bye, I love you” that feels comfortable and familiar, something you say every time. Sarah, ever polite, smiles warmly at your mom. "Thanks for everything," she says, her voice light but sincere, and your mom responds with her usual, “Okay, bye I love you stay safe”. 

[shadowtriovibes]

the waves won't break my boat

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: G

Word Count: 2K

Summary: request: "okok what about like Seb telling reader he has a surprise to show her and then sneaking her out at night to take her for a ride on the boats toward the castle like first years do bc she missed it as she wasn’t there during first year and he wanted her to see such a beautiful sight?? just pure fluff"

“Sebastian,” you whine a bit pitifully. “Where are you taking me?” “It’s a surprise,” is all he offers. “Don’t get your wand in a knot, we’re nearly there.” You trail after him in the darkness until he comes to a sudden stop next to a concealed doorway you’d never stopped to investigate. Upon closer inspection, you realize that it’s actually a lift, and from there you deduce that Sebastian means to take you deep underneath the castle. “Absolutely bloody not.”

“Oi! New fifth year!”

Frowning, you glance up from the Ancient Runes textbook you’d been pouring over for the last hour by the fire in the Gryffindor common room.

“Me?” you ask dumbly.

Across the room by the Fat Lady’s portrait, one of the sixth-year girls who always seems to have a sour expression on her face rolls her eyes.

“Yes, you,” she calls out with a sneer. “Your little boyfriend is outside looking for you. Brown hair, Slytherin, bit of an arse?”

You slam your book shut and narrow your eyes, willing yourself not to go red while the handful of other Gryffindors studying nearby start to giggle and whisper to each other. Then you awkwardly shove your book back into your school bag and weave through the common room’s array of plush armchairs and couches toward its guarded entrance.

“Thanks for that,” you mumble as you shove past her into the tunnel behind the portrait.

(You don’t bother telling her that Sebastian is not your boyfriend, because it’s very much not her business.)

When you emerge from behind the Fat Lady, you find Sebastian pacing in the empty hallway. He looks a bit nervous, but as soon as he notices you, his usual air of casual confidence settles onto his shoulders like a fresh set of robes.

“Good, you’re not busy,” he says simply.

You raise an eyebrow at him skeptically. “As a matter of fact, I was doing some reading on runes. Did you want to join me?”

Ever since your adventure in the not-so-abandoned mine outside Upper Hogsfield, you’ve been trying to learn as much as you can about the rune symbols that the two of you had encountered in case you come across them again. You assume that Sebastian has been doing some research as well, though he seems to be most interested in that ratty spellbook you’d found in the Scriptorium.

“Not tonight,” he says, his fingers twitching nervously at his sides. “Actually, there’s something that I’ve been wanting to show you for a while now, and I’ve just found out that tonight is an excellent night to make it happen.”

Now you’ve shifted from merely skeptical to outright suspicious.

“I promise, you’ll love it,” he says quickly. ���There’s no danger to life or limb, I swear.”

“Does it involve any active goblin mines?” you ask dryly.

“Not this time,” he answers with a grin. “In fact, we won’t even be leaving Hogwarts.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

Of course, he hesitates. “Well, not technically. We’ll be on the grounds, at least.”

You roll your eyes fondly – you should have known it couldn’t be that simple when Sebastian is involved.

“Isn’t it nearly curfew?” you ask him knowingly. “Won’t we get detention if we’re caught?”

“You know I have ways of not getting caught,” he reminds you. “But I wouldn’t worry if I were you. I’d even wager that we won’t see a single living soul where we’re headed – not this time of year.”

Damn him, he knows that throwing in a tease of a hint like that is bound to tempt you.

“No living souls?” you repeat.

“No dead ones either,” he laughs. “But it’s clever of you to notice that bit of wordplay. I suspect the Sorting Hat must have sensed some Slytherin in you.”

(Even if he’s right, you’d never admit it to him while he’s being that cocky.)

You quickly glance around to make sure there aren’t any other stragglers lingering in the hallway before you start to follow Sebastian toward the marble staircase. While you make your way through the mostly-deserted castle, Sebastian earnestly quizzes you about what you’ve learned on the subject of runes since your last outing. This leads to a conversation all about Isadora and her journal entries, and before you realize it you’re following him outside into the Viaduct Courtyard.

The cool autumn air feels bracing after you’d spent all evening curled up by the fireplace, and you drape your scarf a bit closer to your face as Sebastian casts Lumos from the tip of his wand and leads you toward the far end of the courtyard.

“Sebastian,” you whine a bit pitifully. “Where are you taking me?”

“It’s a surprise,” is all he offers. “Don’t get your wand in a knot, we’re nearly there.”

You trail after him in the darkness until he comes to a sudden stop next to a concealed doorway you’d never stopped to investigate. Upon closer inspection, you realize that it’s actually a lift, and from there you deduce that Sebastian means to take you deep underneath the castle.

“Absolutely bloody not,” you tell him.

“Merlin’s beard, haven’t I proven myself to you yet?” he asks, exasperated. “This is Hogwarts, it isn’t dangerous at all!”

(You may only have been a student at this school for several months, but you know that he’s utterly full of dragon dung if he seriously believes that.)

Regardless, you reluctantly allow yourself to be led into the lift, your wand at the ready as it magically comes to life and starts to sink into the ancient bedrock beneath the castle. However, instead of emerging into another spider-infested passageway or tomb-like chamber filled with Merlin knows what, you take a step out of the lift and realize that you’re standing on sand.

“Where are we?” you ask softly.

Glancing around, it seems to be a hidden harbor of sorts, tucked away inside a rocky cavern lit only by enchanted lamps and the faint strands of moonlight that manage to filter through its crag-like opening. A shallow lagoon stretches out in front of you, and floating atop its placid surface are half a dozen narrow boats tied to wooden docks.

“What do you think?” Sebastian asks you eagerly.

You’re quiet for several long moments as you take a few steps toward the water.

“...Are we about to go out onto the lake in one of these?” you ask, even though you think you already know the answer to your own question.

“Brilliant, you are,” he teases.

“May I ask why?” you counter.

“I was thinking I’d explain along the way,” he replies, easily rebuffing your line of questioning while he walks out onto the nearest dock and starts to untie one of the boats. “Go on then, ladies first.”

You are very cautious as you lower yourself into the boat. Mercifully it stays steady while you take a seat on its narrow bench and wrap your robes tightly around yourself. As soon as Sebastian piles the slack ropes that had previously held it in place onto the dock and joins you inside the boat, it starts to slowly pull away from its resting place and curves toward the harbor’s ivy-covered opening.

The novelty of the self-guiding boat emerging from the harbor onto the lake proper is enough to distract you for a short while, but by the time you round the corner and spot the shores of Hogsmeade in the distance, you refocus on your scheming friend.

“Well?” you demand. “What reason could you possibly have for bringing me out onto the Black Lake well after curfew, in late November, in a very tiny boat?”

He sits back with a smug smile on his face as he starts to explain. “First off, the boat isn’t tiny, we’re just much bigger than its usual occupants.”

You frown. “...House elves?”

“No!” he laughs delightedly. “First years.”

“And why do the first years ride in boats?” you ask.

“It’s a Hogwarts tradition,” Sebastian says simply. “Every new student rides across the lake in these very boats from Hogsmeade Station on their first night here.”

Then he pauses and pointedly adds, “Well, almost every student.”

You feel a wave of wistfulness pass over you just then. There are so many experiences that you’ve missed out on by not starting school at Hogwarts until your fifth year – more than you’ll ever be able to chronicle, most likely. But every time you learn about a new one, the chasm between you and your fellow students seems to grow wider.

“Don’t fret,” Sebastian says softly, interrupting your train of thought as if he could detect that your mind had flown miles away. “That’s why I wanted to show you this. It’s one of my favorite memories of my time here, and you should get to experience it too.”

Occasionally, Sebastian surprises you with how genuinely thoughtful he can be.

“Will you tell me about what it was like?” you ask hopefully.

“Of course,” he says happily. “It starts when you first arrive on the Hogwarts Express. Returning students take the carriages pulled by Thestrals up to the castle, but the little ones all stand around on the platform in little huddles like baby Puffskeins.”

You picture younger versions of Sebastian and Anne nervously clinging to each other on the hectic platform and very nearly melt.

“Then Mister Moon arrives and starts herding all the first years down toward the docks,” he continues. “‘Four at a time in the boats please, no more and no less!’”

“Is that when you met Ominis?” you wonder aloud.

“It was,” he confirms. “He rode in our boat with Anne and me, along with a friend of Anne’s who’s in Ravenclaw now.”

“It seems like you all made fast friendships,” you murmur.

“What can I say?” he says with a cheeky grin. “When I get a good feeling about someone, I’m usually right.”

You duck your face into your scarf to conceal your blush.

A few moments later, the boat gently bumps against the shores below Hogsmeade Station and curves as if to turn back toward Hogwarts.

“Quickly, close your eyes,” Sebastian instructs.

This time you easily comply – he hasn’t led you astray so far, after all.

“I can still picture the first time I saw Hogwarts from across the lake,” he tells you, and even with your eyes closed you can hear how nostalgic he sounds. “It will always be one of my favorite memories, especially now that Hogwarts has become more like a home to me than anywhere else.”

Suddenly you’re nervous, even though you’ve already approached the castle from across this very lake countless times on your boom. With one hand covering your eyes, you wordlessly reach for him with your other. He takes your hand in his and squeezes it reassuringly.

“Ready?” he asks quietly. “...Alright, open.”

When you open your eyes, you can’t help but gasp out loud.

From down below like this on the rippling surface of the lake, Hogwarts looks positively enormous. Since you began exploring its secrets and eccentricities, it became all too easy to forget the downright colossal scale of the venerable castle. Here, however, it looms over you like a friendly giant, its storied facade dotted with sparkling windows and lofty turrets.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe. “Sebastian, I… thank you.”

You manage to tear your eyes away from the castle only to catch Sebastian staring at you instead.

“Worth the trip?” he asks you.

“Absolutely,” you answer, squeezing his hand when you realize he’s still holding yours. “This was… This was amazing. I’ll never forget this, Sebastian.”

“Me neither,” he confesses, and then he blushes. “I – I mean, er. You never forget the first time you see the castle from the Black Lake, is what I meant.”

Easily distracted by the allure of the castle, you mumble in agreement and fall silent until the boat starts to curve back toward its cavernous home.

Sebastian lets you keep his hand in yours until he chivalrously offers to tie up the boat upon your return. You silently reclaim his hand once more when he joins you in the lift, and he doesn’t let go again until he drops you back at your common room.

[reinvent-and-believe]

7 for Roy x Jamie. Also, I adore your writing! ❤

7. love at first sight

--

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised,” Georgie says, looking at the pair of them from across the dinner table with a crooked little grin that means trouble, a grin Roy’s intimately acquainted with on a slightly different face. “Love at first sight, weren’t it?”

“Mummy.” Jamie is the palest Roy’s ever seen. “Do not.”

“Don’t be rude to your mum,” Roy scolds, his full attention fixed on that familiar grin. He rests his arms on the table and leans in. “What were you saying, Georgie?”

“Well look at you, coming to my defense,” she teases. “Can you believe it, my Jamie ending up with such a gentleman?”

“It’s lovely to see,” says Simon, setting a tray of fresh cookies down on the table and giving Roy a genuine little smile.

Roy doesn’t know much about Simon; Jamie’s not talked about their history, other than to hint that a teenage Jamie Tartt was as much of a fucking terror as one might imagine and Simon was a prime target. But Roy likes him. Likes how he looks at Georgie like she hung the fucking moon. Likes how easily his love extends to Jamie.

“Mummy.” Jamie’s blushing now, a deep, fast-spreading red. It strikes Roy, not for the first time, that Jamie’s fucking gorgeous when he blushes. 

“Love at first sight? Is that what you said?” Roy asks.

Jamie elbows him. “You ain’t helping.”

Fuck football, this is Roy’s favorite game now. “Who says I’m trying to?”

“Right then.” Georgie winks at Roy as Jamie rubs his forehead. “It must have been, what? 2006? When did you move to Chelsea, Roy?”

“2005."

“2005.” She nods. “Chelsea were here playing City, so of course we had it on telly. And all the announcers could talk about the whole game was the new hot player at Chelsea, making quite a name for himself after only a few games. So of course the camera cut to him over and over, I swear half the game was a closeup on Roy Kent.”

“Mummy, you have got to stop,” Jamie groans.

“This one,” she reaches across the table and pats Jamie’s hand, even as he scowls, “was all of eight years old. You might be a gentleman, Roy Kent, but you’re also a bit of a cradle robber, aren’t you?”

It’s Roy’s turn to freeze. “Right.”

“I’m 25 years old, Mum, I’m fucking grown,” Jamie huffs in an exasperated voice that sounds suddenly 15.

“Of course you are, love.” Her smile loses its bite, fond and soft. “I think you’re lovely together and I’m thrilled for you two, swear down. But I am gonna give this one shit about the fact that he and I would have been in school at the same time and you were eight when he got his big break.”

“Fucking hell,” Jamie says as Roy says, “Fair enough.”

“So Jamie was just a tiny thing, sat in front of the telly as close as he could get, eyes wide. After the first half, he stood up and looked at me with that little look he gets. You know the one. When he’s made his mind up about something and you’ll be wasting your breath if you try and stop him.”

“I know the one.” Roy puts a hand on Jamie’s knee and squeezes gently.

“He turned to me and said”—she pauses for dramatic effect before starting the recitation—“‘when I grow up, I’m gonna be a pretty footballer like Roy Kent.’”

Jamie buries his head in the curve of Roy’s neck. “This is not a cute story,” he insists.

“Keep telling yourself that, love,” Georgie coos sympathetically. “And so began the Roy Kent years. What does he ask for for his birthday? A Roy Kent poster. What do we have to get when we check out at the shop? That magazine with Roy Kent on the cover. What’s he want for Christmas? A Chelsea kit, for Christ’ sake.”

“Now, Georgie, you’ll embarrass him,” Simon chides mildly.

“Yeah, that ship has fucking sailed, man,” Jamie pouts. “When Roy leaves me because he thinks I’m a fucking stalker, it’s gonna be all your fault, Mummy, is that something you want to live with?”

Georgie shakes her head, laughing. “Roy, you’re not allowed to leave Jamie over my cute story. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“I’m just saying,” she says, sitting back and looking at her son with a love so palpable it makes Roy ache, “it’s not like this is exactly a surprise. If anyone knows how to go after what they want, it’s my Jamie.”

It’s fucking weird, hearing about little Jamie’s crush, but it's not like he didn't know most of it, and it's not like they’ve ever really had the most normal of relationships; Roy accepted that pretty early on. He puts an arm around Jamie, smiling when he immediately curls into Roy. “Well, I think you set your sights too low,” he says with a gentle brush of the lips against Jamie’s temple. “You turned out to be a way prettier footballer than Roy Kent.”

“Uh, yeah, obviously,” Jamie scoffs, rolling his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitches towards a grin as he pulls Roy into a kiss.

[darealstethan]

NEW CHAPTER OF WANT ME!!!

Slight inspo from @confuzzledcrow headcanons!!

Read on ao3 or below cut! (Please do read on ao3)

Ethan's POV

I sit in English, but my pen doesn't write words. Instead, my hand guides it to draw a masterpiece. My eyes land on a whole Benny face that is now covering a huge portion of the paper. I don't rip it out, I fold over the corner of the page to save for later. I've grown a collection of subconscious Benny drawings, I go on autopilot and let my brain do the work. And when I get home, I make sure to hang the loose line paper in on my closet door. Since the sleepover it been like this. Rory and I actually feel closer in a sense, and he doesn't hold anything against us. When I'm in class, I remember the imitate details. I remember how close we were, and the taste of salted popcorn, his soft skin, green puppy eyes-

"Mr. Morgan!" Eyes widening from the realization she is face to face with my love-filled page dedicated to Benny. I slam my book close and give a nervous smile.

"I'm so sorry" I whisper, sinking in my seat.

----

---

--

-

The walk to meet Benny at the lockers was the best part of school now. We would only touch slightly, letting our pinkies linger around each other's. We smile, and we look. We will stare till I feel the heat in my cheeks, and I have to look away.

"Hey..." Just look at him, I'm blown away.

"He-hey, hey, hi." My palms are drenched in sweat. "Hey Benny." He chuckles, he chuckles and looks so dorkie doing it.

"Hey..." He laughs "...Why so antsy? I mean it's adorable but calm down its just me! Remember?"

"Yeah sorry, anyway do you want to come over today?" A grin paints his face.

"Boy, do I? Of course!" He finishes packing his bag, "Can I walk with you?"

"Yes Benny, you don't have to ask." We both shut our lockers, heading out. It's warm out, but there's a wonderful breeze. As we walk, I think about holding his hand, and sometimes I even reach for it. I just can't focus on his words, as my eyes wonder other places. I think other thoughts, it's always that night, how emotional that night was. I've never experienced anything like that, but it's had me feeling pretty good. If I knew this is how it would feel to admit I liked my best friend, well I would've realized a long time ago.

"Ethan!"

"HUH? What? Sorry!" I haven't even realized we made it to my house. "I've been calling your name; you didn't hear me?"

"No, sorry." We walked in, waving to Jane before escaping to my room. Tossed bags, shoes off, and we are now in bed; together. My hand traces his face, before placing short kisses all over. Leaving a longer on his lips before getting up.

"Can I show you something?" He sprung up to my words. I unzipped the heavy bookbag, pulling out my notebook and flipping to the folded page. Carefully tearing out the page, I searched my desk for a roll of tape. I ripped a long piece off and applied half of it to the paper and the other half to the inside of my closet door. Footsteps behind me, I feel his arms wrap around me.

"What's this?" It takes him a second to register what he's looking at. Sketches of Benny filled the door, pen and pencils, colored uncolored, detailed low effort. And I have to hide my face behind my hands, to hide the fresh pink spread.

"Oh my god... you drew these?" I went to shut the door, but I was stopped. "Ethan, these are... amazing." His hand felt each drawing, analyzing each one. He turned me to face him. His hand snakes to the nape of my neck, pulling me into a kiss; a kiss of passion. And it starts off slow, till he deepens it, and this slow kiss turned to a fast race. I trip backwards, as he's now guiding my body to the bed. I turn us just one more time, so I fall on top of him when we reach the bed. I am sat in his lap, with his head up against the headboard. Our lips only parting for breaths, nothing could ruin this moment-

"Ethan, here's your laundry!" The door swings open, all too fast, I practically throw myself off of Benny. Her eyes are wider than I can ever imagine.

"MOM!?" Like a deer in headlights, breath heavy, my mom quickly leaves the room. Panic sets in me and Benny's face, he quickly grabs his things before giving me a quick peck.

"I should get going, I'll call you later." I mouth "I'm sorry" before he leaves just as quick as my mom did.

-----

----

---

--

-

Dinner was quiet, the air is thick enough to cut. Nobody has said word, but I can tell many things want to be said.

"So, Ethan, how was school." My mom spoke bluntly, it was clear that wasn't the real question she wanted to ask. Probably, "Hey Ethan why were you on top of your best friend?"

"It was good."

"Well, your teacher called; she said you weren't focused. You were too busy doodling." Oh god..."What's that all about?"

"Nothing, I was just bored" I picked at the chicken pasta Infront of me.

"Is there something you aren't telling us-" "IT NOTHING...Okay? Nothing!" I slid out of my chair and headed back to my room.

I felt embarrassed, not only because I acted like that, because I just got caught with my best friend. Ran over to my laptop to call Benny. We talked for a half an hour, about my frustration. Till I got a knock at my door, I told Benny I'd call him back.

"Can I come in?" It was my dad, I motioned for him to come in.

"Hey buddy, how are you doing?" I rolled my eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. "I'm okay dad."

"Look I am just going to cut this short; your mother told me what happened. And I understand you are growing up and might want-"

"DAD!!" I threw my hands to protest the continuation of that. "When Benny comes over the door must stay open, okay?" Oh, that's it? A weight was lifted when I realized this wasn't going to be a hate speech conversation.

"Okay, I am sorry!"

"It's alright, plus you just made me win 5o buck-a-roonies!" He got up, leaving from my room.

"Wait what? WAIT FOR WHAT??"

[writingakanatorior101]

Forbidden fruit

Plot: When Vinces little sister takes a gap year fresh out of highschool to spend time with her older brother Nikki's unwelcoming reaction leads to somehting more.

MDNI BELOW THE CUT

This story contains:, choking, dom(nikki), mentions of fucking

"Vince do you think I don't see the news stories about trashing hotel rooms, coke, and hookers. Locking me in the back of an Rv is not gonna stop that."

Vinces chest rises and falls. "Y/n I dont want you around Tommy and Nikki when their having their dumbass conversations. Its like listening to cavemen."

I feel my eyebrows cock. "You know your one of those cavemen right?"

"I came here to spend time with my brother, not to critique his Neanderthal lifestyle."

A smirk comes to his face. "Please don't do anything they do."

I manage to come up off the bed. "So leaving me in the back of the Rv is going to fix that."

"Just listen to me once, you never do y/n"

I click my tounge

"I swear to god mom and dad said that a couple of times about you."

"I remember Tommy and I'd like to meet the others."

In all my life I have never seen Vince that mad until I said that.

"Your going to listen to me on this."

Without another word the doorway was empty and the door to the room was shut from the outside. I had been sitting here waiting to meet them all. This bus is empty the bandmates were gone when I arrived the only who was here was Vince.

I can't fucking believe it I took a leap year for that fake blonde prick just for him to lock me in the back of a rockstar RV.

"So his sisters just tagging along"

"Man I didn't know she was our age."

Men's voices grace my ears, whoever it was, was defiantly outside. Peeping my head up and pulling myself off the bed I strutted my ass to the windows.

I know damn well who's outside, the rest of Motley Crue. The velvet of the curtain felt so rich when I touched it. This defiantly wasn't some cheap camper. No matter how many hookers and how much crank have been in here.

To my surprise their taller in person. Especially Tommy someone needs to feed that man he looks the same weight as he did in high school. Then there was a Mick someone Vince describes as sweet and most likely to be the only one he would let me talk to.

But there stood in the middle of them Nikki fucking Sixx. He resembled this picture of Hades I saw while reading a book. The mother fuckers godly and the most piercing blue eyes god how do any of them get women with a man like that standing around.

He's got that type of height that makes a girl feel safe you know I like a man I can climb.

Tommy turns when Vince comes out the camper doors. "So where is she?"

"Its been forever since I've seen her, and she did use to do my homework for me Vince."

Vince retorts "Thats sad man she was a freshman, and you were a senior and in the same math class."

Mick tilts his chin up "when did you get a sister, we've never heard about her and now she is living with us."

Doc turns to them "Shut up all of you, a young girl is less of handful than any of you could hope to be and here wanting to see her brother means she may be with us for while."

I close the curtains. Do I just have to act like a ghost as long as their all around. At this point seeing Vince might not be worth it.

"So is she in here" Tommys voice cascades from down the hallway and I feel the camper start.

"Sit down, fucktards." Docs voice is very domineering and when he yells, they listen.

Then a voice rattles me one I hadn't heard from outside the window before it was deep and sultry. He didn't use a lot of words when he spoke, everything he said sounded like a summary. I knew it was Nikki.

"So is this sister goanna stop me from living my life are we going to have to change for the whole tour cause this little girl around or something."

"What you can't come fuck groupies now on the table" Vince had a mocking tone "you gotta get a hotel."

I know they think I can't hear them but the wood door is very thin. And honestly Vince has been gone for three years a lot changes in three years. I'm not very innocent like come on I went to a public high school in LA and I'm damn sure not a virgin.

But I'd prefer if my brother didn't know that.

When I got here the look on his face. Like I was a whole different person hell that man spent five minutes sizing me up trying to make sure I was the real y/n his sister.

That I'm the same y/n who told him over the phone that she got a full ride at NYU and the same y/n who used to do Tommys homework and watch MTV every night.

I would like to go out that door and see those men from not behind a glass and I would love to talk to Tommy again.

"You brought a child a Fucking rockstars tour bus and except us to live our lives so she isn't exposed to the way you live."

Nikkis voice spit with poison

Vinces spit back "All I said was you don't have to bring your whores in here weird ass."

They were yelling now and I was giggling. Not because it was funny but because I genuinely didn't know what to do.

"Is she fucking giggling behind that door"

I lift my hand to my mouth. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Theres rapid footsteps approaching the door.

"I will turn this goddamn bus around sit down get, Nikki get the fuck away from that door."

They were to close for comfort on the other side. From what I could hear Doc was right next to Nikki.

From the other side of the door, I hear Doc's remorse "I'm sorry young lady."

"Its ok" is all I could muster up.

Hours passed and the sun went behind the hills I was reading a book not like a could focus at all. This was the nicest camper I had ever seen. I completely opened the curtains and the lights of the other cars illuminated the roads.

It was so peaceful I heard my brother's laughter in the background he is so happy and Im proud of him I am.

Sitting on the bench next to the window. Footsteps were coming down the hall. They were Vinces I know they were so I picked up a book and started "reading".

The oak door opened and I could see his blonde hair in the light. "Hey uh were gonna stop at a gas station and I'm gonna meet Beth and drive her to the hotel."

"Your finace Beth am I going to meet her?"

"You will tomorrow but no promises tonight."

"look at me y/n"

I whip my head around

"Don't leave the room while I'm gone."

"yeah whatever sure vince."

And just like that my freedom was granted. All because Vince wanted to see his fiancé, a woman I have never met.

Peeking out of the curtain I see him exit the RV and I see Beth getting out of a ford truck. She is pretty. She has a small frame and bleaches blonde hair. That real American look which is defiantly Vinces's type.

Looking at me and Vince you can't tell were related anymore I kept our real hair color which is a light brown and went more towards the blonde side.

When they were out of dodge the door was open. I wanted to see some rockstars goddammit. All I was wearing was a short romper that was grey with a blue line that ran down both the sides. My hair was in a bun. Down the narrow hallway the room was vacant the boys had all gotten into different cars all except Nikki. Who was facing the Tv.

"I thought you would be taller and have more muscle."

The rv was moving now and there was a wall separating us and the driver.

"I knew I heard the door open I just thought it was Vince. But no its his little sister dressed like whore."

Now that comment hurt but not as much as that lamp I threw.

A glass lamp sat next to me it was beautiful probably one of those thousand dollar ones. Well now it was in a thousand pieces on the floor and I barley missed Nikkis head.

"Piss off" My voices bounces off the room walls.

"You crazy bitch."

"I know you're not talking, all the blow you fucking do and you wanna call me crazy."

I hadn't even noticed it but between the lamp throwing and insults me and Nikki had moved closer to each other.

All he was wearing was some jeans and sleeveless tee that said Black Sabbath. He just toured with Ozzy after all.

"All your wearing is a fucking romper."

"What are you a middle school boy who just saw his first pair of tits, its romper not lingerie."

"Your not exactly shapeless."

It was at this point I lost my morals

"Oh you like it, we call that sexual frustration and you can handle that with your hand."

Until this point the man didn't really have an expression on his face. Yeah sure he was vocal but he was still. That comment left a mark on him though. He was dumbfounded he looked complexed if anything. Then a shit eating grin had took his face and I knew I lost the argument.

"I bet you like it hurt."

"You like to cry during it don't you."

I didn't know what took over me but who does this man think he is. He can be free and loose with his words and Im gonna be free and loose with my hands.

"Actually you don't know the half of it, I like to fuck like hate people I don't mind hitting, spanking I love choking why do I need air."

When I moved closer to him he stiffened his body and cocked his head.

"And to think I called you a little girl"

Nikkis hands are cold, but they can hold me throat easily so easily. The wall of the rv was made out of wood so it didn't hurt that bad being pushed against it.

His breath was in my ear and suddenly every part of me was warm. He seems so tall like this and his eyes have never been so pretty.

I start to giggle, is this real. It feels like lucid acid dream or like I won the lottery that caters to really fucked up girls.

"Why are you laughing, you always laugh" His hands are on my throat still and he slammed he into the wall again with more force than the first time. I had enough courage to warp my legs around him and put my full weight on him.

For a moment that felt like a lifetime he just sat there looking at me. Trying to decide what to do. He could barley meet me eyes with his. But the hunger in them couldn't hide nor could I hide the moisture between my hips.

In my life I had never felt a man so prominent. Fuck this fucker might sell out shows every time if he only wore grey sweatpants. The girth could probably keep you from walking for weeks alone but the length is causing him to almost touch my stomach piercing.

Any dignity I had turned into liquid between my thighs despite his grip I threw my weight to wear I hanging on him with my arms and my legs and moving myself up and down.

His head was back and he was riding it out with me. Nikki was using every iota of his being to not let this cross the line.

"To bad you'll never have this baby"

My high died and he was off me so fast like a bat out of hell. The erection had a clear outline in his jeans and I could see precum stains where his tips is. I could also feel it on my inner thigh.

I was painting breathing for air I could feel my shoulders rising and falling.

"You fucking let down Nikki"

!!!Let me know if you guys want a full fic!!!!

[prismuffin]

Toms Peter x black witch male reader ?,

maybe like a roof date where Peter conveniently forgets everything so reader saves the day? 🤭

A/n: Oooooo alright alright I'm down with this.

Best one yet

MCU!Peter Parker x black!male!witch!Reader

( summary: Peter was running late for your annual rooftop date causing him to forget everything he planned on bringing, but that's ok 'cause you've been meaning to spoil him more anyway )

warnings?: light swearing, mentions of magic and spells, witchcraft jokes,

f/c means favorite color

!-!more under the cut!-!

Peter cursed as he barely dodged a building, he was swinging rather quickly through the city. He'd gotten detention which held him back for about an hour after school which wasn't good because he has made plans to meet you afterwards. He stopped at home to change quickly before heading right back out to see you, hoping that his texts that he'd sent with his schools terrible internet had went through. With one final swing, he flipped onto the rooftop of a tall building, landing with a thud as he caught his breath. There you sat, your pretty dark skin looked stunning against the setting sun and he sighed, his eyes meeting yours. "I-I am so sorry I'm late! Mr. Harrington gave me detention and it completely threw my entire schedule off!" He rambled, taking off his mask as he neared your form, dropping to sit right beside you. "It's fine Peter I got your texts," You waved him off, scooting a bit closer to him to kiss his cheek in a greeting. He smiled at the affection, "where's the food?" You asked, and Peter's smile slipped off of his face. He groaned, shoving his face in his hands as he flopped onto his back. "I knew I was forgetting something." You heard him mumble from his hands before he lowered them to peek at you, who had moved so that you were now hovering over him. "Sorry Y/n...I was in such a rush to get here that I forgot everything.." You chuckled and shrugged, "It's alright Petey, I got this alright?" He quirked his brow, watching you as you stood up.

Shaking off your hypothetical nerves you shot Peter a wink before positioning your hands across each other. They glowed a dull f/c that brightened the longer your held their position. With a quick flip of your hand you'd conjured up a large blanket, pulling it from god knows where until the entire thing was set in your hands. "..woah..." Peter mumbled as you spread the blanket onto the concrete rooftop. "Your magic is so pretty Y/n," Peter scooted himself onto the newly placed blanket, spreading his fingers across the soft material that he assumed was cotton. Sitting across from him, you smiled, "Well you're gonna be seeing a lot more of it since you forgot everything~" You teased him and he sighed before apologizing again. "It's alright Pete, I'm just joking. At least this gives me an excuse to practice a few new spells." You dug through your bag, pulling out three crystals that Peter definitely didn't know the name of despite you ranting to him about the different types constantly. You placed them in a triangular formation before you began your second spell. Peter leaned in a bit closer, watching you with intent and curiosity as you started muttering what he could only assume is an incantation under your breath. Peter almost audibly laughed as he witnessed you pull out a wand from your bag, it's just so cliché that you'd have a wand though he knows better than to distract you while you're attempting a spell. Last time he did, you accidentally turned him into a talking frog. He shuddered at the memory, watching as your hands glowed that same f/c as before, the color making its way to the very tip of your wand. Your wand glowed especially bright as you aimed it down towards the crystals. Peter had to shut his eyes at the amount of light that had come from you.

Opening his eyes again, he stared in awe as full plates of fresh hot food, mostly pastas, were sat on the blanket along with what appeared to be sparkling cider. Glancing up he realized that f/c sparkles surrounded him, they were almost like floating stars. They twinkled, and when he touched one it only exploded into more little sparkles. His eyes snapped back to your form at the sound of pouring liquid, he blushed as you stared at him with sultry eyes, pouring the sparkling cider into the glass closest to him. " This took a lot out of me ya know, so please eat it all." He laughed, quickly covering his mouth to hide it as you switched to pouring a drink for yourself. "I will, it all looks really good! You didn't have to conjure all of this up I would've been fine with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches." He grabbed his utensils and started to dig in, his eyes widening at the taste of the food. "It's fine, I've been meaning to spoil you a bit more." You shrugged and he hummed, "This is so good! Oh my god it's like, the best lasagna I've ever tasted!" "The best?" "The best!" He swallowed and smiled, leaning over the blanket to place a quick kiss to your lips. You hummed at the feeling before digging into your meal yourself.

You both talked about anything and everything as you ate. The dark sky mixed with the glow of the f/c sparkles that surrounded you both only added to the romantic atmosphere. Reaching over, Peter grabbed one of your hands in his, lacing your fingers together as he stared at you with half lidded eyes. "You sure you didn't slip a love potion into this cider?" You rolled your eyes with a smile, "Peter, if I slipped you a love potion you'd be doing a lot more than just holding my hand right now." You smirked as he blushed a bit, a smile gracing his face as he shrugged. "Guess I just love you then," Your eyes softened at his words. He leaned over, placing a couple of kisses to your lips causing you to smile. "Thanks for the food, this date was amazing." He kissed you again and you hummed.

"Best one yet?"

"Best one yet."

----!----

( Hope I wrote this right! I kinda hate it idkkkk )

Thanks for reading! Have a great day/night!!

My requests are OPEN so feel free to request anything! Just make sure you check out my Request Info first!

See my DIRECTORY for upcoming fics!

Masterlist

[kaiowut99]

Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters GX Episode 1 Subbed (Finalized Re-Release)

(Original Finalized Release Post)

(Check out my Subbed!GX Stream Masterpost!)

TURN-1: Yugi's Successor

On his way to the Entrance Exams for the Duel Academia High School, Judai Yuki meets the legendary duelist Yugi Mutou and receives a card from him. Running late, Judai arrives at the venue and requests to take his exam, but Instructor Chronos sees Judai's exam as pointless given his lackluster score on the written exam. A duel begins between Judai and Chronos, and Chronos's rare Antique Gear Golem card uses its powerful 3000 ATK to damage Judai. His back against the wall, Judai hears the voice of a Monster--which turns out to belong to the card he received from Yugi, Winged Kuriboh...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

...I first posted the original finalized version of this episode almost 10 years ago??? Time is an illusion...

Fresh off the presses, it's a re-finalized version of my episode 1 subs! Well, probably re-re-re-re-finalized given my penchant for consistency and quality after previous revisions in the past 2-3 years, between fixing a handful of animation errors and terminology revisions... But this one merited a new post not so much for any updated translations, but because after casually skimming through this episode a while back, I noticed more animation errors, all card-related, that I'm now able to fix as I have for episodes since. You know the deal with this one, I'm sure; new kid on the block bumps into the Game King himself as he runs late for his Academia exam and manages to hit one of the school's best with his skills--literally. Fun opening episode to a fun series.

With this, I'm hoping to officially call this episode finalized for good, mainly because the kind of annoying thing about doing further revisions now is that, thanks to my solid-state drive (SSD) failing in October of 2022, I lost my personal copies of the episode scripts with the ATK/DEF counters I stylize and all, so it means I have to cut/stitch together different parts of the episode between the fixes I applied and the previous hardsub to account for the stat-counter subs or the eyecatch subs I started doing--since the softsub MKVs I release don't have those specific subs, they're easier to update. So I hopefully shouldn't be touching anything before episode 84 (the first one I finalized after getting a new drive) again and those can ideally be considered finalized for good. I'm hoping I can also give that title to 84-109 (where I currently am), but I'd like to think I didn't miss anything, lol.

Anyway, as mentioned, this revision applies several card-related fixes to the episode, some of which replicate fixes 4Kids did for the dub that I took a cue from. The fixes were added to the last DVDRip I released, subsequently made into a new softsub MKV, both of which will be up on NAC soon with the updated hardsub. List below the cut below as always, for the interested~ (Nice thing with some of these is that the frame rate was usually consistent, which meant that editing most panning shots and the occasional zoom shots were usually more of a breeze than later on, haha.)

Enjoy, folks; with this out of the way, since it's been about two weeks since 108 and 109 were finished up, I'll start setting up stuff for finalizing 110 while doing a little more TFSP work here/there before I fully start on 110 sometime next week. Stay tuned!

Fixes & Edits!

*The bolded edits below were applied back in 2021 and were added into the original release post; adding them here for completeness.

Applied a card back to an orange rectangle that was a face-down card during the panning shot of the Exam Duels going on over the episode’s opening narration as it fades to Chronos watching, repeating the edit as it pans back around again before fading to Manjoume and Ryou/Asuka watching.

As Misawa's exam proctor says that he stands no chance against his Super Defense Deck, the blank-art cards on his Disk for Big Shield Guardna and Gear Golem the Moving Fortress are reversed (the wider side for the effect box should be on the right). Fixed by applying proxies on them for a frame in AfterEffects, masking in the card outlines for blending, before taking that frame into Sony Vegas and zooming it out for the zoom shot here.

As Misawa's Ring of Destruction destroys Vorse Raider, we see the smoke rush onto the proctor's side of the field--and as we do, we can quickly see the blank-art Big Shield Guardna and Gear Golem cards on his Disk are again reversed before the smoke covers them. Fixed first in AfterEffects by slapping the proxies on for a frame, then in Vegas by taking that frame into and keyframing it to the rapid panning shot for most of its 17 frames. (Incidentally, throughout this scene, a different error happens in the dub, where aside from keeping the cards' orientation on the proctor's Disk incorrect, they also shuffle between Gear Golem and Big Shield Gardna being Normal or Effect Monsters--bit of an identity crisis!)

Fixed the error with Misawa’s LP dropping to zero after he uses Ring of Destruction to finish his Exam Duel; should have dropped to 1300.

After the proctor's LP drop to zero, he congratulates Misawa on his win, but the Gear Golem card on his Disk is reversed. Fixed first in AfterEffects by applying my proxy for a few frames, then taking one of those frames into Vegas to lightly keyframe as the shot pans left. (As a fun editing aside, I could tell 4Kids likely edited this in a similar way to how I did because as the cards fade out, you can briefly see some residue of Manjoume's hair outline on Big Shield Gardna's card which they didn't cover up; I definitely made sure I went the extra mile with redrawing the arena floor to cover that haha.)

After Misawa thanks the proctor, we zoom out to Manjoume in the stands as the Solid Vision fades out, but the cards under Big Shield Guardna and Gear Golem are--you guessed it--reversed. Fixed in a few ways, with the goal being to redo Big Shield Guardna and Gear Golem fading out--first, in Vegas, I took the first frame after they're gone and zoomed it into place at the start of the zoom, which let me cover up Gear Golem and most of Big Shield Guardna, but because Manjoume's hair moves upward as the shot zooms out, doing this means I couldn't fully cover it. So, I then took this first post-fadeout frame into Photoshop, where I used the Clone Tool to duplicate the arena floor and cover up the rest of Big Shield Guardna, reinserting it into Vegas and applying the zoom keyframes I did to the earlier frames to it--this lets my edited frame properly zoom out with the shot. Once done, I went into AfterEffects and applied the Big Shield and Gear Golem proxies onto the shot's first frame, masking them above the cards, then took that frame into Vegas to zoom out with the shot (rather easily, luckily, thanks to the frame rate note I mentioned up top), masked out Big Shield and Gear Golem and made them fade out into the edited frame in the layer below. With that set, all I had left was to go back and mask Manjoume's hair back above the edits for the duration of the fade, which was pretty easy, and boom goes the dynamite.

After Judai's duel with Chronos starts, he summons out Elemental Hero Featherman, but the card gets placed reversed on his Disk. Fixed in AfterEffects by applying a proxy first to one frame during the initial light zoom-out in the shot, taking the fixed frame into Vegas to re-zoom and hold once the zoom was over.

Chronos reacts to Featherman's summon, and as Featherman lands in front of Judai, his card on his Disk is reversed again, but also as the screen pans right, for a few frames as Judai moves to then place a card face-down, the shadow under his left leg goes from being more gray to black, turning back to gray once he stops moving. Fixed in AfterEffects first by placing a correctly facing proxy on his Disk for a frame, which I then took into Vegas and re-panned into the shot; while in Vegas, I then masked in the gray leg shadow over the black, masking in part of Featherman's ATK/DEF counter over the edit to blend it in.

In the next shot, as Judai ends his turn and their LP counters pop up, the Featherman card under him on the field is reversed; fixed in AfterEffects by slapping in a proxy, masking Featherman back in above it.

[cont below]

(10) After Chronos uses Confiscation, as he sends Judai's Revival of the Dead/Monster Reborn to his Cemetery, a few things happen: 1) the Featherman card on his field under him on the field is facing Chronos in Attack Mode, and 2) it's in the wrong Zone on Judai's Disk, as it should be in Monster Zone 3. I fixed this a few ways, first fixing the Featherman-on-field aspect in AfterEffects, applying a Defense-Mode proxy under Featherman and masking him and Judai back over it; I then took a cue from 4Kids and took the frame immediately after his Cemetery stops being lit up (but before Judai starts to move) and the frames as Judai moves into Photoshop, where I copied the empty Zone 1 into place over Zone 2, blending it in with some minor editing, and combined it with the AfterEffects edit I then did by applying a Featherman proxy in Defense Mode to Zone 3. After throwing everything into Vegas, I then applied some masking to a solid-white color layer to replicate the lights coming from Judai's Cemetery slot (helped by the fact that, luckily, the lights don't move). (The dub, for their part, only handled the Disk aspect, applying a weird light to cover up their Zone 2 edit while the Graveyard was lit up, leaving the Featherman card on the field as it originally was, OCG format and all lol.)

(11) Chronos activating Heavy Storm causes a huge storm of wind on the field, and as it gets to Judai's field, we see that the Defense-Mode Featherman card on the field under Featherman is reversed. Fixed first in AfterEffects, applying a proxy in a frame where most of the card was visible and masking Featherman back above it, then taking that frame into Vegas where I first redid the panning that happens, then I created a solid-color layer colored like the wind and applied some masking to replicate the gusts of wind that blow over the card.

(12) After Chronos summons his Wicked Lord Tokens and the crowd reacts, the smoke on the field from their summon simmers down, but the Featherman card under Featherman is reversed again. Fixed in AfterEffects by applying a correctly facing proxy and then masking Featherman back on top.

(13) After the commercial break, fixed the error with a Ra Yellow student’s miscolored jacket as he and the others watch Antique Gear Golem being summoned, thanks to thepalebride’s help.

(14) After crowd reaction to Antique Gear Golem being summoned, Asuka looks out onto the field and says she unfortunately heard the sound of the Academia's gates closing shut for Judai--as she does, we see that the blank-art card under Featherman is reversed. Fixed first in AfterEffects by applying a proxy under him in the first frame of the shot and masking him back on top, then taking that frame into Vegas where I re-panned it as the shot pans upward.

(15) After a brief blush, Judai summons out Winged Kuriboh, but he places it reversed on his Disk--and in the very next shot, it's correctly facing such that its name box is to our left. Fixed in AfterEffects by applying a proxy as he places it on his Disk, masking his fingers over it.

(16) After Antique Gear Golem destroys Winged Kuriboh and Judai tells Chronos that it reduces his damage to zero--to Asuka's shock--Judai takes Winged Kuriboh off his Disk and places it in his Cemetery slot in a quick shot, but the card is reversed again. Also fixed by 4Kids, I fixed this in AfterEffects by applying a proxy facing correctly in the frames in which Judai moves it.

(17) After summoning Flame Wingman, and after some taunting from Chronos, Judai activates an arena as heroic as he is in Skyscraper, but as he does so, Flame Wingman is missing from his Disk, as it should be in Zone 3. Fixed first in AfterEffects by applying a proxy (after finding the best-quality screenshot of Wingman's anime art and touching it up using an AI tool [I think I settled on Waifu]), fading it in as the scene fades from the Judai closeup to Judai about to swing his Disk around, and adding it as he does so, then applying a brightening and dimming as the Solid Vision lights go on around him. Once I did that, I went into Vegas and applied some masking on the little flickers that pop up over that zone to blend the edit in. (Side-Note: while dubifying the Skyscraper card in Judai's hand, 4Kids forgot to mask in his thumb over it, begging the question... how is Jaden holding that?)

(18) Fixed the blank Normal Monster card that should be Flame Wingman, both as Antique Gear Golem crashes onto Chronos and as the duel fades to an end.