#why be left with no family and no friends
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o-batll3 · 3 days ago
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hidden - m. rodriguez x reader
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warnings : none? mention of hickeys , slight teasing
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summary : reader has just played in the el classico for barca and is secretly dating misa who’s spots a hickey left from a few nights ago
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as the final whistle blows , you throw your head back and drag your hands over your face. barcelona had won 3-0 but playing real madrid is never an easy game. you had assisted 2 goals , one long ball from the half way line through to athenea and one from a free kick.
you go around the pitch , congratulating your teammates and then the opposition. sharing words with previous teammates and players on your national team. you are speaking with alexia putellas as you lift your shirt up to wipe the sweat of your head.
‘you played well today’ she says , patting you on the head whilst smiling.
‘gracias alexia , you played well too’
as alexia walks away , you turn around to the fans , taking in the sea of blue and red in front of you. the sun is shimmering in the sky which is a clear blue. you think about the conversation that you and your sister were having about the english weather compared to the spanish warmth , making you smile at the thought of your family.
you turn away from the fans and their cameras as you walk towards the one person you were yet to speak to.
‘hola misa’ you say , smiling at her as she comes over for a hug.
‘hola y/n’ she says , wrapping one arm around your shoulder.
you knew that your teammates would wonder where you know misa from , since you hadn’t played together before and you played for different national teams.
‘i saw you speaking with alexia’ she says , looking down at you as she removes her hand and steps in front of you.
you raised an eyebrow.
‘yes?’ you reply , slightly confused as to why she has mentioned it.
‘you should be more careful when you lift your shirt up’ she states , watching you raise on eyebrow.
‘why?’ you say.
‘does it make you distracted.’ you tease , giving misa a smile.
‘hm a little. but you should be more worried about people wondering why you’ve got a bruise on your lower stomach.’
your eyebrows shoot up , as you slightly lift up the bottom of your shirt , revealing a circular grey hickey placed right above the hem of your shorts.
‘shit misa what the fuck.’ you exclaim , slightly whispering as you let go of your shirt , letting it fall past your hips.
misa let out a laugh and her lips turned into a smirk.
‘you know , it looks quite faded , maybe i should make a fresh one’
your face immediately heats up and you groan.
‘good game misa.’ you say , patting her on the back.
‘good game y/n.’
you spin and turn to your team who are about to return inside.
you are walking towards the tunnel when alexia runs up next to you.
‘so , how do you know each other.’ she asks.
even though you knew someone would ask the questions you were in no way prepared and you searched for an excuse.
‘just through mutual friends’ you say , your heart beating as she squinted her eyes , cleary not believing what you’re saying.
‘you know i don’t believe you.’
‘i know’
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They're not the only problem.
WHY UNIVERSAL BACKGROUND CHECKS ARE JUST AS UNLIKELY AS EVER, UNFORTUNATELY
I'm a leftist (Libertarian-Socialist), who votes progressive, because I live under an "elected" government, and I had thought I had purged the MSNBC/CNN Nation from my friends list, but apparently not, as my timeline is just chock-full of media-driven hysteria over current events, so here's a primer:
"Liberals" who think their arguments are clever or relevant to the Second Amendment are exhausting.
They are not the left; they are just one half of the good cop/bad cop act of the corporate owned fire-hose of bullshit that is the corporate media, and corporate America's governing criminal cartel/duopoly.
Both cults "I like simple and ineffectual 'solutions', because they make me feel like I'm doing something, and I'm just stinky with fear."
There are over a hundred million legal gun owners, who some want to punish for somebody else's crime.
Well, there are some things to consider.
We've been a heavily armed country since 1621, and yet the epidemic of daily mass-shootings didn't begin until 20 April 1999 (Columbine), at a time when gun ownership was at an all-time low, and five years after Clinton's assault-weapons ban, so maybe guns aren't the variable.
Worth noting: One of the first things the "Pilgrims" did when they betrayed the Native Americans, was disarm "King Phillip" and his men.
Maybe, just maybe, dead school-children are the price of the neoliberalism practiced under the "Washington Consensus" of BOTH right-wing authoritarian parties since the 1980's? When your country offers you no prospects, and you become terrified of the future, what then? Fear can make unstable people do desperate things. Add to that a culture of celebrity, and what could possibly go wrong?
Another factor that goes completely unexamined, is the way Ronald Reagan and Tip O'Neill emptied our state hospitals onto our streets, and onto families ill-equipped to deal with the sometimes violent mentally ill.
https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/04/opinion/us-mental-health-community-centers.html
Thank God, the "solution" is so simple…
Also, 84% of NRA members support universal background checks. The problem is, every time a bill comes up for a vote, Democrats add poison pill amendments guaranteeing defeat in the legislature (and the courts), and then they proceed to tell the TV cameras that "once again the GOP and the gun lobby have voted down background checks and defied the will of the people", or some such nonsense.
If you want to watch Dems sabotage universal background checks (while Republicans roll their eyes and face-palm) in real time, go here:
P.S. You can probably guess which one of these three groups I belong to (Hint: It's the one that's growing and actually decides elections):
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LaborPartyNow!!!
P S The line, "You don't need 30 rounds to shoot a deer!" is not clever.
The Second Amendment has nothing to do with hunting tools, toys for hobbyists (target shooting), or even weapons for self-defense.
It's about ARMS!!!
It's about the individual citizen's right to arms, so they'll be prepared to join a militia, not the other way around. ‘Well regulated’ at that time, simply meant, ‘efficient.’ In other words, in order for a muster to be efficient, civilians needed to be already armed.
So the "collective rights" argument has a couple of problems that make it quite unhinged from history and reality.
1) As I've mentioned above, Americans have always been relatively heavily armed. How did that happen in a collective rights paradigm?
2) Contrary to what you were probably taught in school, by the time of the Confederate artillery barrage on Fort Sumter, the war over slavery had already been going on for over six years, and was fought entirely by independent volunteer militia's. Fort Sumter was just the beginning of official involvement by government troops. How did that happen in a collective rights paradigm?
3) In what universe do government forces need to have their right to arms protected?
4) Since when do National Guard members keep National Guard arms (Hint: they're kept at the armory, and have been since colonial times)?
5) Obviously, "Liberals" are stupid.
Again: #LaborPartyNow!!!
P P S That was ENTIRELY the point of the first fruits of dissent, the 10 Amendments we've come to call the BILL OF RIGHTS (which have become a beacon to aspiring democrats all over the world), to protect INDIVIDUALS from the government they had just created. #TrueStory
"Facts are stubborn things, so fuck your feelings." -John Adams
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The republicans are the problem, get rid of all of them!
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maeedrg · 2 days ago
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OUR LITTLE SECRET
University professors Gojo & Geto X Fem Reader
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ᯓ★
Synopsis : in which reader is a 22 years old uni student that has a big fat crush on her professors, Gojo and Geto. After all, a lot of people on campus fawn over them. Why wouldn’t you too ? As a class president, you end up passing more and more time with them, the line in between professionalism and something more is slowly blurred. Are they flirting ? Or just being nice ?
Words count : 13.6 k
Warnings : age difference, the fic is problematic, smut, threesome, foreplay, reader is afab, reader drinks alcohol and smokes cigarettes, Satoru and Suguru are kinda mean, squirting, chocking, half public sex.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : Yeah, I don’t know why I wrote that… anyways, hope you guys still like it. It’s my first time writing about Geto too. English is not my first language, so sorry for the mistakes.
。⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚。⋆♡⋆。⋆ ˚。⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆。⋆✧⋆˚。⋆⋆ 。⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚。⋆♡⋆。⋆ ˚。⋆⊹⋆
One year and a half. One more fucking year and a half before you graduate college and your major. You were excited, maybe more than you should be. Well, the reason was not the one your family and friends expected. That was your little secret, one in between you and two other individuals. Cut to the chase, the big part of the reason was simple : once you would be free of the title of “student”, nothing else could hold you back in wooing your two teachers from whom you had the biggest fat crush ever. 
How couldn’t you ? Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru were the hottest teachers of your damn campus. Since day one, when you arrived here, some years ago, you couldn’t help but be like any other of their fangirls and fanboys : thirsting over them. Nothing more, nothing else. You expected nothing in return, they were your professors. Even though they weren’t really professors with no teacher diploma, -but specialists in their major coming to teach other people-, they were doing an amazing job at it. You could maybe fantasize a bit more than your other fellow classmates, when you got assigned as class president of your course with Gojo. You ended up talking more with him, relaying infos he would give you to the rest of the class, and even having small reunions with him to discuss topics about the course or other important things, like grades, exams, or problems in between students. 
Gojo always had this carefree smirk plastered on his face, having this kind of atmosphere around him that made you feel like you weren’t talking to your professor, but to a friend or a classmate. After all, you were 22, and he was 28. Some people in your class were older than you, a few of them having the same age as your young professor. So the small age gap didn’t help in making you even more confused by the way he was addressing to you. 
Geto, on the other hand, was less carefree than his best friend, having more seriousness as a teacher. Nonetheless, he had this sort of nonchalant aura, and you knew damn well, that aside from his calm and composed face, the black haired professor was slyer than you thought. Aside from your classes with him, you ended up being class president too in his course with another friend of yours. You had the golden duo in your hands, and that made some of your classmates jealous to see you spending more time than them with the hottest teacher on campus. Nothing serious, though. After all, you were just an invested student in their eyes, and they were you professors. Right ? 
Well, here goes the reason why you couldn’t wait to graduate to woo them : in the past, you never predicted the growing interest they would have, and how the fine line in between professor and student got blurry through time. 
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
You were walking in the big left wing corridor of the campus, holding some files in your hands that you had to bring to professor Geto. It was needed for your next class with him, that would start in 15 minutes more exactly. You walk confidently, saying hi to fellow friends in another major passing by. At the same time, you saw a crowd of people gathered in front of the door of a class. Curious, you raise an eyebrow and speed up, wondering what was happening.
Ah. Your curiosity stops immediately when you realize that it simply was Professor Gojo surrounded by students, trying to have a conversation with him. It’s not like it was difficult, the white haired man was very talkative, and it was well known that it annoyed another one of your professors named Nanami. Gojo had his usual cocky smile, black sunglasses sliding down his nose as he hums before answering the question of a student. Him being so tall, it was damn easy to spot him in this sea of people. You walk faster, but then his piercing blue eyes raise from behind his glasses, and meet yours no matter how many people are around. Not knowing what to do, nor wanting to disturb him, you just smile politely and look back to the files in your hands, continuing to walk.
“Y/n ! My favorite class president, I need your help,” a voice exclaims behind you, and before you can react, a strong arm slides around your shoulders bringing you closer to your teacher. You raise your head, not expecting for Professor Gojo to pop at your side when two seconds ago he was surrendered by people. How did he even manage to do that ?
“Professor ? I was about to bring these files to Professor Geto, so…,” you start to say, slightly flustered by the way he was holding your shoulders. Well, it was known by most students that Gojo didn’t really know anything about personal space, being a bit too friendly instead of keeping his professionalism. But that’s what made him so carefree, and appreciated by most students. Even if you were used to his behavior, starting your third year here and being at his classes, you couldn’t help but feel heat in your stomach each time he innocently touched you. No matter how quick and friendly it was. 
“Geto ? Perfect, it was on my way, anyways,” he gives you this big smile, tilting his head on the side as he continues to walk by your side. You look behind you, and realize that most of the crowd disappeared, and some students were watching you with envy. You look back at him.
“Oh, alright,” you nod saying that, smelling the cologne of your professor filling your nose. God, he smelled sweet. You quickly look away, trying to hide your crush on him. It was near impossible sometimes, even more when he was acting like this with you. Did he notice anything ?
“You almost nailed the last math exam, I finished reading it,” he suddenly says as he munches on his minty chewing-gum, straightening back up and sliding his hands in his pockets instead.
“Almost ?” you ask, frowning your eyebrows. He gives you a glance, and nods, nudging you.
“Hmm, nothing bad. You just didn’t quite understand the last lesson with the new formulas. Maybe I should give you some quick tutoring next time you help me with classifying the course books, yeah ?” Gojo proposes, raising his eyebrows as he looks at you.
You think about it, and look in front of you to hide your reaction. You already had some teacher in the past helping you out when messing up something in class, taking extra time to explain it to you again. It wouldn’t be anything different with Professor Gojo, right ? You were just delusional to think the contrary. 
“That would be nice, thank you. What was the thing you needed my help for, anyways ?” you ask as you approach the classroom of Geto’s course. Finally. Gojo stops in front of it, facing you and smiling.
“Nah, I lied. Just wanted to have an excuse to stop answering all the questions the first years were asking me. It got too personal, even though I like to talk about myself,” he blows his chewing-gum bubble while answering, tilting his head on the side, gazing at you.
“Oh- yeah, I get it,” you chuckle, a bit nervously. It was hard to stay focused because of the way his eyes were on you. It was intimidating.
“Thanks, y/n. See ya’ next class.” He waves, winking at you, and walks away. You take a deep breath, calming yourself down and cursing yourself for acting like a teenager that had a silly crush on their teacher.
You open the door with one hand, closing it behind you without looking inside. You have goosebumps at the coldness of the class, before turning around and realizing that the window was open. Professor Geto was nonchalantly smoking, a cigarette slipped in between his lips before his purple eyes met yours. You catch your breath in your throat.
“Oh, y/n, that’s you. You got the documents ? Thanks,” he approaches you and grabs the files. He eyes you down, his black hair half tied in a bun. Smoking wasn’t allowed inside the buildings, so it was quite shocking to see your teacher that is usually serious about the rules of the campus breaking them like that. 
“You’re welcome,” you answer, unsure on how to react.
“That’s our little secret, don’t tell anyone that I’m smoking, it’s prohibited. I trust you, okay ?” he asks with a small lazy smile, the intensity of his gaze on you making you shyer than you thought. He steps back and goes to the window to finish his cigarette.
“Yeah, but I expect that if I break a rule and you catch me, you would keep it a secret too,” you coyly reply. You didn’t know where this cockiness came from, maybe because spending too much time with Gojo after his classes helping him out, resulted in you mimicking his behavior. 
Geto stops in his track, and before answering he blows out his smoke through his nose, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m your teacher, I’m not supposed to let you freely break rules, you know ?” he retorts, staring right back at you as you still stand a bit awkwardly at the door.
“I know, but…”
“Alright, if I catch you smoking like I do, I wouldn’t scold you. But I still don’t want to see my supposed innocent student getting herself into that,” he continues, interrupting you as he inhales some smoke before finishing his cigarette and throwing it in the depth of the small trash next to his desk. 
You swallow your saliva, shaking your hand at his words. You weren’t innocent, but the way he said it made it sound like he meant clearly something else.
“I already smoked before,” you retort. He smirks slightly before letting the window open to take off the lingering smell of cigarette and walk back to his desk.
“That’s too bad, don’t do it again, it’s not good for your health,” he answers as he takes the files and organizes them on his table, briefly looking at you and then back at the papers.
“Yet, professor, you do it too,” you state, sitting at a chair in front of one of the empty desks. After all, class would soon start. He smirks at your boldness, looking at you.
“Hmm, but it’s different. As your professor, I still have some sense of responsibility with my students. I wouldn’t want to let you smoke on my watch,” he answers, taping the wood of the table with his fingers. You look at it, and then back at his purple eyes.
“I wouldn’t, probably. But then, that’s a deal. I won’t tell that you were smoking inside the classroom,” you finish, biting the inside of your mouth as he looks at you doing so.
“Good, thanks y/n.  I can always count on you.” His smiles stretch, and you couldn’t help but fluster a bit at how pretty and charming he looked. Not long after, class started.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ  
This afternoon you were helping out your teacher grabbing some needed books in the library for his next class. Gojo was way taller than you, allowing him to reach the highest shelves. In the quietness of the library, barely any students present, you look around searching for one specific book in the left aisle. As you go on your tiptoes to grab it, you feel the presence of someone behind you, and a palm landing on your shoulder.
“Let me do it for ya,” whispers your teacher, winking at you behind his glasses and lifting his arm to grab what you were looking for. As he does so, his muscles move, making his chest brush against your back. You suck up a breath, and raise your head to look at his cheeky grin.
“Here you go,” he says, giving it to you and you take it in your hand. 
“Thanks,” you breathe out, feeling heat all over your face and your heart hammering in your rib cage. When meeting his eyes, you can’t help but feel intimidated, even more by this proximity.
“Only three more to go, and we are all done, y/n,” He winks at you, shaking the paper with the list on it in front of your face. The way he rolls down your name on his tongue and his hand still on your shoulder makes you look away from his gaze.
“That will be quick,” you answer and he hums, and then softly pushes you towards the next aisle and bookshelves, his hand still on you.
“All thanks to you. You do your job well,” he compliments you as you try to search for the next needed book, eyes scanning around.
“That’s normal, I’m not the class president for nothing,” you confirm, smiling slightly at his praise. He backs down and goes back to searching for the next books.
“Yeah, but in the past, when I was a student too, I was the worst class president they could have. Yet, my classmates voted for me. I’m just comparing myself to you,” he explains, a small smile on his face as he remembers his past as a college student. It wasn’t too long ago, Gojo was barely 28 after all. 
You look at him surprised, trying to imagine your teacher as a student, and you couldn’t help but wonder that if he was the same age as you and a college student, would you be his friend ? Or maybe more… You shake your head, that was stupid to think so.
“No way, really ?”
“Yeah, even if I had good grades, it annoyed me to death to do all these boring tasks, so it impresses me to see a student like you being so serious about it and doing it perfectly. I gotta’ admire you for that, if I’m being honest, y/n,” he admits, looking at you up and down in quite a long way, his gaze lingering. You feel giddy at the compliment.
“Now that you say it, professor, it’s hard to imagine the contrary,” you chuckle slightly. 
“I was a troublemaker with Suguru, uh- I mean professor Geto,” he adds as he grabs one of the books you needed, and you pause in your search to look at him, even more surprised.
“Troublemakers ? I didn’t expect professor Geto to be a troublemaker, he seems so…”
“Calm ? Yeah, don’t get fooled by that. And yes, we do almost everything together, get in trouble together, and share quite anything together. You see ?” he cuts you off, completing your sentence. But the way he said the word share made you shiver slightly, feeling his eyes on you.
“That’s funny to know, to be honest,” you whisper and smile to yourself, finally finding the last book you needed to check on the list.
Lost in thoughts, you try to imagine Gojo and Geto causing trouble. Not gonna lie, it made them look hotter in your head, forcing yourself to not bite your lip mindlessly. You tried to visualize Geto as a troublemaker, and remember how he was smoking inside the classroom last time. It wasn’t too hard to imagine, after that. Now you knew that you had more material to fantasize about your attractive teachers… But as you continue to think, you don’t realize that one of the high books stumbles and falls right towards your head. Before it could hit you, Gojo grabs it swiftly, and wraps his arm around your waist to make you step back. Your body hits his chest, and you look at him eyes wide open.
“Be careful, y/n. Wouldn’t want ya to get hurt on my watch,” he chuckles, his chest rumbling against you. You could feel the warmth of his body through your clothes, and that made you even more nervous in his presence. His breath slightly hits your nape, making you shiver. 
“I’m sorry, thank you, ahah,” you awkwardly answer, not knowing how to react. One more second passes, before he steps back and lets you breathe again.
“We got all the books, how about I give you the tutoring like I proposed last day ?” he asks, winking at you, holding now more than a half of the manuals you went to search in the library. 
“If that doesn’t bother you, yes,” you try to gain back your composure, stopping your thoughts from imagining more things. 
“Why would it ? I still have time to kill. Anyways, perfect, let’s go !” he muses as he puts his free hand on your back to push you towards the exit.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ  
It’s been 15 minutes since you were sitting in the empty classroom of Gojo, receiving his tutoring and corrections about your last exam. It was helping you greatly, him being nonetheless a very good teacher no matter how unserious and silly he could act in general. His advices were just right, and he could easily pinpoint your weaknesses in a topic to help you through it and improve. When it was about working hard in his class, he wasn’t lenient. Yet, the way he was helping you out, made you feel like it was favoritism. Was it right for the other students, wasn’t it slightly unfair ?
You don’t have time to ponder more when the door opens, and closes right after the person enters. You raise your head, only to see professor Geto entering the class with a cup of coffee in his hand, and some soda in his other. He looks surprised to see you here, walking towards the both of you.
“Am I interrupting something ?” he asks as he gives the soda can to your white haired teacher that grabs it smiling, stretching his body, making his shirt ride up slightly and showing some of his skin.
“Nah, was just tutoring miss y/n right here,” he answers, giving you a glance, sipping on his soda. Meanwhile, Geto does too on his coffee, and walks behind you to look at the math formula you were writing down on paper.
“Hmm, too bad. If I knew, I would have brought you something too, y/n,” answers the black haired one, his purple eyes meeting yours as he gives you this lazy smile that always made you have butterflies in your stomach.
“Ah, no, it’s alright professor ! No need to, thank you though,” you shake your head, chuckling a bit shy by his act of kindness. Fuck, why were you loosing all your personality whenever you were in their presence ? Was it your nervosity ? Probably, and that pissed you off. 
“Come on y/n, you’ve been working hard. You need some reward,” insists Gojo, tapping his pencil against your exercises written on your notebook, referring to it. His blue eyes bore into you, and his smirk widens as he slides his glasses on top of his head. 
“I don’t want you to spend money on me, that would feel wrong,” you retort, and Geto chuckles before taking a chair and dragging it next to the table, sitting on it lazily, legs parted.
“It’s alright. You can take a sip of my coffee if you prefer,” proposes your professor, tilting his head to the side to emphasize his question, showing with his chin the drink in his hand. You look at it, not knowing what to answer.
“Or my soda,” coos Gojo, crossing his arms on his chest and looking at you choosing. 
Gojo was already helping you out with your difficulties from the last lesson, so you preferred to hold a favor to Geto by sipping on his drink. You didn’t even know why you accepted, taking the coffee in your hands. What kind of teacher proposes that to their students ? You didn’t know, and you were too nervous to actually think straight.
“Thanks,” you mutter before bringing the cup to your lips under the burning gaze of Geto, and gulp down some coffee. You thought you saw him looking at your lips doing so, did you imagine it ? You didn’t even like coffee that much, but you still did it. It was bitter, and you did a small grimace. It makes the black haired one smirks more by watching you suffer slightly. Gojo chuckles.
“You should have drunk my soda,” he hums, and you couldn’t agree more, but kept it for yourself.
“It’s alright, it didn’t taste that… bad,” you try to answer, even though the taste was still lingering on your tongue.
“It’s not for everyone, yeah,” he adds, taking back the drink, his fingers slightly touching yours. 
“You don’t mind taking a small break, y/n ?” asks Gojo as he closes back the manual, suddenly putting his legs on the table without a care in the world, crossing his arms behind his head and looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
“I don’t, I started to be a bit tired anyways,” you answer, looking at the long legs of your teacher in his carefree attitude. 
“Hey, don’t be a douchebag and act like that in front of our student,” complains Geto, glaring slightly at your other professor. Gojo rolls his eyes, looking back at you by turning his head towards you.
“She doesn’t mind, it’s just us right now. Right, y/n ?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and his blue eyes holding your gaze. You swallow your saliva, and smile a bit nervously.
“No, it’s refreshing.” That’s what you answered. After all, it was true. Seeing your teacher act like that made him look more… human, rather than just your professor.
“Then if you don’t, I'll smoke a bit,” answers Geto as he glances at you before standing up, and walks towards the window to open it.
“Make sure no other student can come in then, Suguru,” answers Gojo casually by calling him by his first name, taking out his phone and scrolling on it. After all, they were friends. Yet, it felt strangely intimate to see them drop the act in front of you and be suddenly so casual. At the same time Suguru closes the door, locking it in a soft click. He grabs a cigarette from his pocket, and a lighter, before putting it in between his lips, walking back to the window.
“I count on you again, y/n,” he says as the flame shines on his face, lightening the cigarette. Then, you see smoke creating around his mouth and the end of the cigarette, before being blown away in the wind. You nod, answering a “no problem”.
“No way ! Don’t tell me you make her keep the secret, Sugu’. You’re sneaky,” laughs Gojo, lifting his head to look at his best friend who rolls his eyes.
“She knows how to keep secrets, hmm ?” answers Geto, holding your gaze as he blows away the smoke.
“Uh, yeah, yeah. I do. I mean, it’s just smoking... I don’t care,” you answer, shaking your head.
“Oh yeah ? That’s good to know, then,” muses Gojo, putting down his phone as he balances himself on the chair, you were scared that he would fall. He sips on his soda, licking his lips.
“I’m not a snitch,” you add, looking back at your notebook and then closing it.
“I’m curious about something, y/n. It’s not work related. Can I ask ?” suddenly asks Gojo, sitting straight back on the chair and turning to face you, crossing his leg over the left one. 
“Of course,” you nod and look back at him.
“Do you have a boyfriend ?” You open your eyes wider, and if you had water in your mouth you would have spilled it. You gulp, letting out a shaky breath, not expecting this question at all.
“Satoru, you’re making her shy,” chuckles Suguru from behind, tapping some of the ashes of the cigarette over the window before inhaling the smoke again
“Is it making you shy ?” he questions again, unable to hide his cheeky smile to form on his pink lips. Was he flirting with you ? No, impossible. Why would the hottest teacher on campus be interested in you ? You persisted in the thought that you were delusional, and tapped the table with your nails to try to stay grounded.
“No, it doesn’t. Why ? Does it have to do with something about classes ? Or work related ?” you interrogate, unsure of the reason behind this question. At the same time, you felt the gaze of Gojo scanning you, humming to himself before his eyes are on your face again and he smiles at you innocently.
“No reason. Just wondering.” He shrugs, glancing at Suguru behind him who was still smoking, looking at the scene unfold before him with interest.
“I don’t have a boyfriend, nor girlfriend,” you end up answering.
“Ah, is that so ?” He smirks.
You nod, flustered, and not knowing what to answer. Was it alright if a teacher asked you such a thing ? Probably not. But fuck, coming from the two men that you had the biggest crush on since your first year in this university, it made you not give a single care. 
“Satoru, look at her, you are making our poor student uncomfortable,” continues the voice of Suguru as he walks towards you once he finished his cigarette. It sounded slightly nagging, and like a mockery to yourself. He stands right behind your chair now.
“What ? ‘M just asking. Can’t I like some gossip ?” he justifies himself.
“Then if I answered, it’s only right if I know both of your answers too,” you mutter louder than you wanted. Yeah, that was the biggest opportunity you could have right now to know more about the hottest teacher on campus. You wanted to know so bad, for years now. There were rumors for a long time, that either they were single, or secretly dating, or having hundreds of hookups. None of it could be confirmed, since Geto and Gojo always made sure to hide their personal life well. So, yes, it was your chance right now.
“Awww, she got us, Suguru,” snickers the white haired one.
“Are you curious, y/n ?” continues Geto. They both stare intently at you.
“I’m not going to lie, yes,” you admit, nodding. You could feel some tension in the air. Maybe you were crossing a line by asking that, but Gojo was the first one to, so it would only be fair. Right ?
“I like your honesty,” purrs Suguru, putting his hand on the back of your chair, towering over you. You could smell his cologne mixed with the scent of cigarettes.
“As a reward for telling us, maybe we should answer too. Don’t you think, Sugu’ ?” They stare at each other, and you could swear it felt like they were communicating telepathically right now, exchanging unspoken words.
“Why not,” ends up answering Geto, shrugging. You anticipate their answer. What if they were dating someone ? It’s not like you had a chance, whatever, but you still hoped the contrary. 
“Nah, we aren’t dating anyone, we just like having…” starts to say Satoru.
“Fun,” finishes Suguru.
Oh. The way they said “fun” made a pool of heat create in your lower abdomen. So they were single, and probably hooking up with people ? You bite the inside of your cheek, imagining them having their so-called fun. It was hard to not have any lewd thoughts about your professors now. 
“I see…” you answer, nodding. What else could you say aside from that, seriously ? 
“You’re not embarrassed, right ?” questions Suguru.
“Uh- no, no,” you half lie.
“We trust you to keep it a secret, y/n, yeah ? We wouldn’t want students to go around starting more rumors,” adds Satoru, his blue eyes fixated on your facial reaction. 
“Of course,” you immediately answer, nodding firmly. Well, you still would say it to your best friend that was in another university, but that didn’t count, you thought. 
“We already had a bunch of students asking to have sex with us because of rumors 3 years ago. That was troublesome to handle. We wouldn’t want it to happen again, you understand, right ?” continues Suguru, looking at you from above, giving you his unreadable smile. You gulp.
“Y-yeah, I get it. No worries,” you confirm slightly tense. 
“I told you that she could keep secrets, Satoru,” he says looking at his best friend with a smirk.
“We’ll see,” he grins too, his eyes not leaving you.
“Alright, I’ll let you go back to your tutoring. See you tomorrow, and see you too next class, y/n,” Geto ends up announcing, putting his hand on your shoulder to emphasize his goodbye, making you shudder slightly at the contact before he steps back.
“See ya !” Waves cheerfully Satoru, sipping on his soda as your black haired professor walks away and unlocks the door before opening it, and gives one last glance as he steps out.
Shortly after, you went back to your lesson, still disturbed by what happened. You couldn’t stop thinking about how they acted and what they said.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ  
You just finished class, and these past days you’ve been stressed as ever. In between trying to keep up with classes, and in between the way you were on your toes everytime professor Gojo or Geto spent “innocent” time with you, them addressing you more like a friend rather than a student, you were damn tired. After all, you couldn’t help but wonder if these interactions with them through the weeks were just you being delusional, or if something was really going on.
You sigh, closing your jacket and stepping outside of the building. With all this stress burning you up, you just wanted to smoke, or maybe you secretly hoped to cross by professor Geto. Even if it was your little secret in between you and him that he was smoking inside his classroom, you nonetheless saw him at the smoking area during the quiet hours of the day when nobody else was around.
In this cold weather, you put your hands in the pockets of your coat to warm your poor frozen fingers, and walk towards the area. Great, he wasn’t there. You sigh, a bit disappointed, but still take out the cigarette from the pack and slide it in between your lips. You then search your lighter, but quickly frown when you realize that you didn’t find it, nor in your pockets, nor in your bag. You groan, but then suddenly a flame appears in front of your eyes and lights your cigarette. You open your eyes wider, only to meet the purple ones of Geto. Surprised, you fluster, and could feel your face heating up.
“Professor ? Thank you,” you murmur, inhaling the smoke and blowing it away, looking at his nonchalant gaze on you.
 “Smoking ? That’s bad, y/n, but I promised to not scold you,” he says as he looks at the way the cigarette consumes itself, and how the smoke lingers in the air. He keeps his hands in his pockets, stepping back to let you some personal space, unlike Gojo.
“That’s right, and you are here too to smoke, right ?” you answer logically, that was the smoking area after all, so nothing surprising for him to be here. 
“Hmmm. ‘Saw you smoking, I thought why not join you. It’s the first time I see you doing that,” he explains, leaning against the wall behind him, turning his head towards you. You spin around to face Geto, and he already has a cigarette in between his lips too.
You nod, slightly nervous to be left alone with him with nothing else to do. Usually you can occupy yourself with helping him with some documents, or things related to class. But not right now, and it was the worst moment to have your head empty of any discussion ideas. Fuck, it pisses you off. 
“No need to be so uptight, you’re not in class right now,” he chuckles softly, trying to light his cigarette, but because of the wind, it’s near impossible.
“I’m just not used to it,” you whisper as you look at the flame struggling to work. He lifts his eyes to meet yours, and then you approach him.
“Wait, let me help, I’ll just-” you whisper, and then press the end of your cigarette against the end of his, helping him to lighten it as he inhales. Some sparks make it work, and it’s only then that you realize how close you are to his face, and his eyes are on you all the time. His dark lashes are longer than you thought, and his pupils expand in the purple of his irises. You directly step back, embarrassed.
“Thanks, y/n,” he grins, blowing away the smoke out of his mouth. You simply nod and continue to inhale to smoke against the wall next to him, your arm brushing his. You don’t know what have gotten into you when doing that, but damn, that was sexy as fuck. Why did he have to be your university teacher ? ! 
“Satoru is not too annoying with you, right ? Sometimes he acts too friendly, I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable just because he can’t mind his own business,” he starts to say, tilting his head to the side to look at you, and you see how his adam apple moves as he talks.
“Satoru ? Oh, yeah, professor Gojo. No, it’s alright, I’m getting used to it,” you smile slightly. It’s true that since he asked you if you had a boyfriend out of the blue some weeks ago, the more time you both passed together aside from classes, the more he asked you things, and the line in between student and teacher became blurry by the way he was acting with you.
“What did he ask you last time ?”
“If I had a crush on someone on campus, I think he wanted to act like a matchmaker,” you chuckle a bit, remembering the question, not thinking much of it. Suguru hums, silently inhaling on the cigarette, looking at the building some meters away.
“What did you answer, then ?” he asks, gazing at you with an unreadable face. Surprised by his curiosity, you at first don’t answer.
“Uh, I said no… I mean, I’m 22, it’s not like having silly crushes when you are a teenager,” you try to justify yourself, nervous to answer when the two people you had a crush on were the both of them. That was your secret. And they couldn’t know.
“Hmm, is that so ? And why is that ? Don’t you find any of the students here attractive ?” he looks suspicious, but the way the corner of his lips move, it shows he is kinda mocking you, secretly mocking you. Did he know your real answer ? No, he can’t… More like, you hope so.
“Not the students, no,” you shake your head and concentrate on finishing your cig, trying to sound natural, the best you could. But his burning gaze made you feel like being in the spotlight, and that he could know if you were lying or not.
“Teachers, then ?” he suddenly questions, smashing the end of his cigarette on the public ashtray, stepping back in front of you and digging his hands in his pockets.
“Uh, ahah. Even if I did, that wouldn’t be very appropriate, right ?” you scoff, trying to hide how nervous you were at his question, fingers slightly shaking, because of the cold, or the stress.
You were sure that you heard a “what a shame” coming out of his mouth, but, were you really sure ? He smiles, and spins around, waving lazily at you.
“See you next class, y/n, work well on your homework,” he simply announces, walking away and leaving you alone in the smoking area with your unfinished cigarette. You look down at it, and half of it was the ashes ready to fall on the ground. You forgot to smoke it during a good part of the conversation… Damn, he really knew how to make you falter with just some words. 
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ  
Friday night, after a long week of work, you decided to go out with your friends before your club trip. Indeed, next week, you will be busy organizing with your university club the 2 nights trip in the mountains, thanks to the savings the club made this past months. And surprise : the two teachers that will accompany you there, would be Gojo and Geto. Obviously. It’s like the universe was toying with you, and just thinking about it made you nervous and excited at the same time. 
After going out, it started to be late and your friends were tired, saying goodbye to you. You sigh, for you it was too early to go back home, so you decided to at least go drink something by yourself before heading back to your place. You spot your favorite bar, one you were acquainted with, and open the door, stepping inside and leaving the coldness of the street. As you do so, you spot for an empty sit at the desk, and sit on it. You look at the list, wondering what you will drink tonight, when the door of the bar opens again. You turn your head, and gasp when your eyes meet Gojo and Geto, entering it. Your eyes met, and you felt like you were hallucinating. Surprise passes on their face, and then there is a big smile on the face of the white haired one.
“No way ! Y/n, what’s up ? What are you doing here all alone ?” he exclaims, walking towards you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder cheerfully, not believing his eyes.
“Satoru, she is just like us, here to take a drink. It’s a common bar here,” answers Geto, nudging his friend.
“Good evening y/n,” Geto grins at you, standing next to you and then taking off the arm of Satoru around your shoulder, meanwhile he rolls his eyes.
“Oh my- I didn’t expect to see the both of you here, I often come and I never saw you in this bar,” you comment, turning around to face them better in the dim light of the bar. They were in more casual clothes. The hair of Geto is kept down, framing his face and falling on his shoulders. Gojo doesn’t even wear his sunglasses like he used to, letting his blue eyes to your seeing. Looking at them dressing like that, you just wanted to drool at how hot they looked. That was unfair. So unfair.
“I saw on their website that they had very good non alcohol cocktails, I wanted to try it,” explains Gojo as he grabs the card menu, and reads it while licking his lips.
“Are you here with friends ?” asks Suguru, looking at you instead.
“No, they left earlier,” you shake your head answering them.
“You care if we join you, then ?” Gojo smiles, his blue eyes on your face now, staring at your expression.
“Not at all,” you answered quite quickly, and you sounded almost eager. Suguru chuckles, and they both sit next to you on each of your sides. You look left and right, feeling small in between them. You weren’t going to lie, having a drink with them was like a dream coming true. 
“Did you order already, y/n ?” questions Suguru, looking at the menu, and humming softly as he thinks about what to take.
“Not yet.”
“Perfect ! Then take anything you want, it’s on us,” exclaims Gojo, winking at you to emphasize what he just proposed. You open slightly your mouth, surprised and touched
“Oh, it’s alright professor, I can-”
“Nuh-uh. We’ll pay, take it as a thank you for all your hard work as a class president,” muses Gojo, leaning his chin on his hand and narrowing his eyes while staring at you. You gulp, and smile a bit dumbly in return.
“Alright, thank you then professor Go-”
“Please, we are in between us, call us by our names,” he stops you mid-sentence, rolling his eyes.
“Yeah, we are outside of classes right now. Don’t bother with the formalities, y/n,” adds Geto, and you turn your head to look at him on your right.
“Right… then thank you, Satoru. And thank you, Suguru,” you end up saying, their names feeling weird and new on your tongue. You were flustered to even pronounce these syllables. Their smiles grow wider at your words, and suddenly their presence felt overwhelming, having them so close, able to smell their sweet cologne filling your nose, and the way they looked at you.
“Good,” whispers Satoru.
You all order your drinks, and you sip on the usual cocktail you take when being there. Minutes pass, and the alcohol in your blood makes it easier to freely talk to Satoru and Suguru, breaking the barrier between professor and student. The conversation goes on, and they both know exactly how to make you talk. It just sounded so easy, very easy.
“You don’t take any alcohol, Satoru ?” you ask, finishing your cocktail.
“Nah, I don’t like the taste of it. And I prefer to have a clear head,” he explains.
“Just admit that you are a lightweight, yeah ?” teases Suguru, gulping down half of the end of his beer and putting it down on the counter, smirking. 
“I never thought you would be a lightweight !” you laugh, imagining the white haired one unable to keep his mind straight with just one shot of vodka, for example. He pouts, and rolls his eyes.
“Hey, don’t go on and expose my secret, Suguru ! Poor y/n right here, she shouldn’t know that her favorite teacher is like that,” he dramatically retorts, sliding his arm around your shoulder and bringing you even closer, shaking his head.
“What, afraid she’ll start a rumor ?”
“I wouldn’t,” you quickly answer. 
“That’s true, Suguru. She did an amazing job at keeping many secrets, like the one that we are single and just like having fun. Right, y/n ?” He grins, his eyes lowering down to look at your face that gets warmer by the blood rushing in it.
“Yeah… that’s no one of my business, after all,” you whisper. Right, you wished that was some of your business. You thought that you could keep dreaming. 
“Hmm, we just are consenting adults living our life without causing any harm. Like anybody else, I’m sure even y/n right here has her part of secrets,” adds Suguru, crossing his arms over his chest, his finger lightly tapping against his bicep as his purple eyes scan you. 
Oh, that was a rough topic. Both because you felt a bit uncomfortable talking about it with them, second because you were embarrassed : it’s been years since you had “fun”, like they called it. And that was quite frustrating. 
“Hey, now it’s you making her uncomfortable, Suguru. Look at her,” he feigns concern saying that, but it felt more like he was having fun. It kinda pissed you off, as if they were treating you like some innocent dumb doll. You weren’t, it felt like mockery coming from their mouths, even though you had no single proof that it indeed was. 
“Aw, my bad, y/n. No need to answer,” Suguru answers, raising his eyebrows while taking another sip of his beer.
“No, it’s alright. It’s been a long time since I dated anyone, anyways,” you end up admitting.
“No way, a pretty woman like you ?” Replies Satoru, arm still around your shoulder and eying you up and down.
“What a shame,” continues Suguru.
Are they flirting with you ? Unbelievable, they were just being nice, nothing more, nothing else. Why would they in the first place, anyways ?
“Well, thank you. But no, nobody interested me, and with uni’ it’s hard to find time,” you explain.
“I mean, we are busy too, and Suguru still finds the time to go have fun, for example,” chuckles Gojo, licking his lips after taking a gulp of his cocktail.
“Satoru, would you want me to talk about your fun too, uh ?” retorts the black haired one, giving a small glare to his friend as a silent warning.
“Hey, that would be inappropriate for y/n to know that.” He shakes his head and looks at you from the corner of his eyes, his smile bigger now.
“And it’s you saying that ? Seriously ?” 
“Relax, we’re just having a chat. Nothing scandalous happening here. Awww, anyways. Back to the topic : you,” Satoru suddenly talks back to you, his eyes right on yours now.
“Uh, no no. Nothing of that. No… fun either,” you answer as you put down your cocktail.
“Hmmm, I see. What a bummer,” he hums.
“Well, this type of life is not for everyone,” responds Suguru, leaning his head on the back and looking at the ceiling before gazing back at you.
“Maybe.” You didn’t know what to answer else, because you wanted to have this fun with them ! But, that only was in your dreams, the craziest and juiciest ones.
After this, an hour passed where you continued to drink in their company. They, as they said, paid for your consummations. As you walk out of the bar, the cold hitting you like a truck, you look around while they follow you after you.
“Need someone to accompany you home, y/n ?” asks Suguru, his hands in his pockets.
“No need to bother, I’m… fine,” you answer, smiling at him.
“Yeah, right. And let you walk alone being drunk ? No way,” retorts Satoru, his hand on your back as he steps up.
“He’s right, y/n. Unless you prefer that we call you an uber, hmm ?” adds Suguru, standing in front of you as he raises his left eyebrow.
“What ? No, you both already paid for my cocktails, that would be unfair-”
“Then at least one of us will walk you home, it isn't safe at all. Deal,” stats the white haired one, winking at you. 
You couldn’t argue more, and you were too tired to, anyways. You ended up getting walked back home by both of your teachers, and that was quite a strange situation. You were sure that if the people of the campus heard about it, they would go crazy. You bite your lower lip, giggling in your head at the idea. Once you are in front of the door of your apartment building, safe and sound, they wave you goodbye.
“See you on monday, y/n,” Satoru purrs, sliding his arm around the shoulder of Suguru as they turn around, giving you his signature smile.
“Take care,” finishes Suguru softly, before walking off.
You look at them doing so, your heart hammering in your chest, heat burning up your cheeks. Fuck, it was getting harder and harder to keep your calm around them, now. 
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ   
After a whole week of preparation, taking the train, you finally arrived at the camp that was supposed to host your club, you, and your teachers. The activities were mostly to have fun and have a break from work, like a reward for passing mid exams of the year. You got in your room with other female students, after checking them with Gojo and Geto, being sure everything was alright.
You all started by doing some hiking, nothing too hard, obviously. You all had packed lunch, taking the opportunity to look at the amazing landscape of the mountains. You stayed behind, to make sure nobody would get lost, in the company of Gojo and Geto. You started to get tired, letting the two of them keep up their conversation by themselves. They weren’t exhausted at all, unlike everyone else. How could that be humanly possible ? You were out of breath, and they kept glancing at you at the corner of their eyes.
“Maybe we should take a break, y/n, you look like you are about to faint here,” jokes Satoru, patting softly your back as a way to cheer you up.
“No, we will soon arrive at the lunch spot. I can hold on for 10 more minutes,” you shake your head, taking a deep breath and grabbing a trunk to help you climb the small rocks on the side. But then two hands slide under your arms, and lift you up easily until the top of the rocks, as if you weighed nothing.
“Here you go, you should ask for help if needed,” winks at you Suguru, being the one that helped you out. You look away, flustered to be so close to him, before he steps on the side to let you walk by yourself. The palm of Gojo is now on the small of your back to make sure you don’t fall.
“Thank you,” you inhale while saying that.
“You’re kinda weak, y/n. But don’t worry, we’re here to catch you before falling.” Satoru grins saying that, looking at your figure struggling to keep the pace.
“Yeah, right-” you start sarcastically, rolling your eyes, but at the same time your foot slips on the ground and you gasp as you lose balance. You fall backwards, yet, your back hits two strong chests behind you, and long arms wrap around your waist securely. You quickly realize that your two professors caught you on time.
“Told you,” murmurs Satoru cockily, his grin becoming a cheeky smirk.
“Be careful,” continues Suguru, and they push you back up on your feet. You thank them, embarrassed, and now stay closer in case something happens.
Some minutes later you all arrive at the secluded place for lunch. It was beautiful, a big panoramic view by being on the mountain felt like you were touching the sky and that the villages around were as small as ants. You help other classmates while Gojo and Geto are busy distributing the food in case people forgot to pack lunch. Students fawn over them, and keep asking if they could eat with them. They agree. You feel the gaze of Gojo on your back, but you look away and decide to sit down with your group of friends to instead eat with them. It would be suspicious if you stayed all the time with them, and you still wanted to spend some time with your own friends.
You eat your sandwich peacefully, unable to keep your mind on track, always lost in thoughts daydreaming about the black and white haired men. You were wondering if something else would happen during this trip. You hoped so. Your friends had to snap you back of your reverie quite often, laughing. 
Later, when you all were back to the camp, everyone rushed to the hot baths. It was a chance that they were available for you, but you had to wait a bit before being able to go relax, since you had to do the checkups of the furnitures with your teachers.
“Y/n, can you check if everything is here ?” asks Suguru, holding a list of paper in front of your eyes. You nod, and walk inside the reception of the building and count if all the bags were there. 
“You okay here ? My poor y/n, I’m sure you wanna go to the baths to relax, am I right ?” purrs Satoru behind you, crossing his arms over his chest. You lift your head to look at him.
“I’m good, at least I will be alone in the baths, nobody to annoy me.” You shrug, and then Satoru bends down and grabs a bag of marshmallows as he hums at your answer.
“What do you think about marshmallows to eat at the bonfire tomorrow night ? Suguru said that you all weren’t kids anymore, and that maybe they wouldn’t want to,” he complains, a pout forming on his lips as he looks at the sweet treats.
“No, I think that’s a good idea to do on the last night here. I mean, I’ll personally gladly enjoy it,” you answer with a smile, crossing your hands behind your back. Satoru grins. 
“Oh yeah ? Perfect then. You really are always here to help us out, y/n. I should offer you more private tutoring as a thank you, don’t you think ?”
“Professor, it’s-”
“Satoru. When we are alone you can call me by my name, like at the bar,” he cuts you before letting you continue, stepping closer as he opens the bag of sweets and he plops one in his mouth.
“Satoru, then. I was saying that having extra tutoring wouldn’t be very fair for the other students that struggle in your class. Isn’t it favoritism ?” you repeat.
“Life’s not fair, y/n. Call it what you want, favoritism or not. You should take the opportunity, don’t you think ?” He retorts swiftly, tilting his head to the side, looking at you through his sunglasses. You swallow your saliva, batting your lashes one second to let you have the time to think properly.
“Well..”
“Think about it,” he cuts you off, putting his hand on your shoulder. You simply nod, gazing at his long fingers, and at the same time Suguru arrives. You turn around to face him.
“Am I interrupting something ?” he asks, eying you down, the corner of his lips lifting in a small smirk and raising his eyebrows.
“We were just talking about me tutoring her, no harm in that, right ?” Satoru replies coolly, and Suguru stares back at him with an equally steady gaze, his eyes flickering over to your for a moment.
“No.”
“Is there something you wanted ?” the white haired one asks, stepping back and eating another marshmallow.
“Yeah. Y/n, did you finish checking the bags ?” he turns around to face you, hands in his pocket nonchalantly as he approaches you.
“Yes, everything is in order,” you nod, answering.
“Good, well then you are free to go to the hot baths if you want,” he smiles, and Satoru takes the opportunity to slide his arm around the shoulder of Suguru, grinning like an idiot.
“We should go too, Sugu’,” he coos exaggeratedly. You chuckle and excuse yourself, walking away to prepare yourself to relax in the hot water.
Inside the public bath, nobody else is around since all the other students finished long ago and were spending time outside, helping to prepare dinner. You take a deep breath. You sink in the water, your sore muscles getting almost magically healed by the warmth, closing your eyes. You open them back when you hear on the other side of the wall made in bamboo, inside the male public bath, two familiar voices.
It was Gojo and Geto, and you couldn’t help but fluster at the idea that they were naked on the other side of the baths. You obviously couldn’t see them, nor they could see you, but your fantasies thought otherwise.
You try to not imagine lewd things, but it was hard to, even though it was bad. It’s been years that you were untouched, having no time for dating or hookups, not wanting to do so. Yet, it made you frustrated that your sexual life was so low. It’s maybe for that, that you were having weird ideas about your teachers, your crush on them not helping at all. But the images of their hands around your limbs, innocently supporting you earlier to not fall. Or the way they said your name, acted with you for months now, the fact that you knew they were currently sexually active as they admitted in the past, having their so called “fun”... Was it so wrong to desire them ? They didn’t know anything, it was in between yourself and nobody else. Your little secret. You didn’t cause any harm after all. 
“You really couldn’t keep it in your pants, uh ?” You suddenly hear the voice of Suguru from the other side of the baths. Curious, even though it was wrong, you try to listen to their conversation.
“Can you blame me ? Do you see how she looks at us ? I couldn’t resist asking her, there is nothing wrong with that,” retorts Satoru.
“Yeah, well, at least I know how to control myself. We are in no position to make a move on her.”
“That’s so fucking annoying. She is just my type, what a bummer,” sighs Satoru. You wonder what they were talking about, and more likely about who. You frown, moving slowly in the bath to get closer to the wall to eavesdrop better. What were you even doing ? !
“If you really want to make a move on her, we should wait for her to graduate, like that, there will be no problem,” replies Suguru.  You open your eyes wide at what they said. Did you imagine it ? No, clearly not. You try to not make any sound as you move even closer, but the water betrays you.
“Yeah yeah, I know. But damn, she clearly has a crush on us, Sugu’. It’s hard to stay professional sometimes,” he groans.
“To be honest, we aren’t really professional with her. Even less you…”
“Hey, how about we do a small move on her, just to see if she is willing or not. If she doesn’t, then that’s too bad, we stop everything. If she does, well... we’ll see, yeah ?”
“It’s another one of your bad ideas,” answers Suguru in a long sigh.
“Come on, don’t be so uptight, I know you are curious.” You swear you could imagine a grin forming on the lips of Gojo just by his cocky tone of voice. There is a small moment of quietness, before you hear something again.
“Deal.”
You bite hard on your lips to not make any noise of surprise, shocked by what you just heard. You decide to not stay any longer and quickly leave the hot bath in panic.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the walls, Satoru grins mischievously, and Suguru slides his hand in his wet long black hair.
“Do you think she heard us ?” asks Gojo, playing with the water while sinking a bit more in the warmth around him.
“Of course she did. She was the last one to enter the baths, everyone else was outside cooking dinner,” answers Geto confidently, stretching his arms and looking at the wall.
“Then that’s perfect, at least she can prepare herself now for what is coming,” chuckles Satoru, gazing at his best friend.
“Don’t be too mean, Satoru.”
“You say that, but in between the two of us, you are the one that is a damn sadic sometimes. Am I right ?”
Suguru simply grins as an answer.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ   
Tonight was the second and last night of your trip. Since yesterday, you couldn’t stop thinking about what you heard in the hot baths. Were they talking about you, or someone else ? You couldn’t know, but yet, deep in your heart, you hoped it was indeed you. The following day you kept being shy around them, unable to forget their words echoing in your mind. Each time they were talking to you, slightly touching you, like a hand on your shoulder, or the way they looked at you, you felt your heart hammering in your chest like a wild horse. 
You were sitting on a truck in front of the bonfire, next to your friends, roasting marshmallows thanks to the idea of Gojo. Everyone was happily talking, drinking beer and munching on the melted sweets. You kept avoiding their eyes, and you knew that they sensed it. 
You look up at them, at how attractive they looked with the reflection of the flames on their face and body. Suguru was wearing a black hoodie with black sweatpants, sitting on a manspread while turning the stick with the marshmallow on it. His hair was half tied in a bun, his little bang falling back on his face. Satoru was wearing blue jeans with a sweater too, a gray one. He wasn’t wearing his usual sunglasses, the warmth of the fire illuminating his pretty eyes. You try to look away, mesmerized, but then Suguru looks at you and grins. A grin that didn’t look so innocent. 
At the same time, other students keep their conversation with them. One of them asks something about the last lesson of the class of Satoru, and he stretches his long limbs gazing at you before looking back at the student.
“Aww come on, I don’t want to think about work right now. Let’s talk about it once we are back on campus, okay guys ?” he answers. 
“Last lesson was so hard, is it possible to have some personal tutoring with you, professor ?” coos a student with mid length hair, batting their lashes. 
“Nah, sorry, I don’t do tutoring. But, I can send a file of some explained exercises, and training to do, it will help you,” he replies, but the way he said that he doesn’t do tutoring, his eyes were on you, boring into yours. You gulp, he was blatantly lying, and you were the only one, aside from Suguru, to know. 
They complain, and your friends do too, saying they wished they could assist to some special tutoring. Well, you keep your mouth shut, unable to say that you already had one tutoring from him in the past, and that he proposed to do more for you. It really was favoritism, and you felt kinda bad, but, as Gojo said, you shouldn't miss such an opportunity. Life was unfair, after all. 
“Y/n, can you help me bring more wood for the bonfire ?” asks suddenly Suguru, standing up from the truck and showing with his chin the way towards where he wanted you to follow him. You look at first surprised, nervous to be alone with him, but still nod and stand up after a few short seconds. You were excited too, some heat pooling in your lower stomach at the idea. 
“Satoru couldn’t help ?” you question as you walk next to him, away of the bonfire.
“For now, we need to keep at least one of us present, since some students are drinking alcohol. Safety first,” he explains as you both arrive in a secluded area of the camp with the necessary firewood. 
“Yeah, that’s logical,” you smile a bit awkwardly when you reply, and he leans against the tarpaulin that covers the wood from being wet. 
“Sorry, I half lied. I wanted to smoke too, actually,” he admits as he slides a cigarette in between his lips and lights it with his lighter, inhaling softly and then blowing the toxic smoke in the darkness of the night. You look at him, almost in awe, unable to not look at his lips or his fingers turning red from the weather. 
“I don’t mind,” you shake your head slightly, and he smirks.
“The way you look at me makes it look like you want one too,” he muses, tilting his head on the side and eying you down. Well, you wanted him more than anything else, but you wouldn’t refuse something to ease your nerves.
“Kinda, yeah.”
“I shouldn’t do that, but… here you go,” he proposes as he takes one from his pack, and gives it to you. You thank him and grab it. 
Expect you didn’t have any lighter on you, Suguru realized that. He keeps his usual unreadable face, but then steps closer and leans towards you. The tip of his cigarette kisses yours, and you fluster at the situation, yet you try to keep your cool as you inhale, lightening it. You blow the smoke away, surprised that he did such a gesture. 
“Thank you,” you whisper in the quietness of the area.
“I’m just doing what you did for me last time,” he answers as a small smirk forms at the corner of his lips. Right, you remember your bold move some weeks ago, and get even more embarrassed. 
“Well, about that…”
“Are you nervous, y/n ?” he cuts you in the middle of your sentence, and that throws you off guard. 
“Nervous ? What ?” you almost stutter, chocking on the smoke, not expecting for him to ask that. His purple eyes stay right on you, unwavering. 
“Yeah, since yesterday night I feel like you are quite on edge. Did something happen ?” he continues, in a worried tone of voice, but you knew that he wasn’t really worried. He knew something, clearly. Suguru wasn’t dumb. 
“I guess I’m just a bit tired because of the hiking of yesterday,” you lie, he finishes his cigarette quickly, looking at you. 
“Is that so ?” Suguru raise his eyebrows and then you finish your cigarette too, putting it in the trashbean next to the tarpaulin. He lifts it and take some wood, giving you a small portion in your arms. He takes more.
“Yep, just tired,” you insist, trying to act nonchalant by shrugging and bringing closer to your chest the wood. He walks next to you, showing you to follow him back to the bonfire where you could hear the sounds of people cheering, laughing and having fun. 
The moment you arrive, Satoru looks at the both of you, and then Suguru discreetly leans towards your ear before whispering : 
“You know it’s bad to eavesdrop, right, y/n ?”
You freeze. He simply smiles without even looking at you, and throws the wood in the fire before dusting off his hands. Air is knocked out of your lungs, in a gasp, and you awkwardly throw too the wood in the bonfire. He knew, he fucking knew. And the way Satoru is gazing at you with a cocky smirk, you know that he knows too. 
You just wanted to bury yourself of embarrassment right now. But you couldn’t act like a coward, and instead sit back on the truck with your friends, trying to forget about it. But your hands were sweating, a lot, and you were so so flustered, remembering what they said. That was a dangerous game to play, a very dangerous one.
But the adrenaline in your veins, pulsating towards your heart, making your body warmer by the second, makes you want more, and more, even more. Will it go farther, will they make a move as they proposed ? But the first question was : were they talking about you, or someone else ? You still had no real confirmation, after all. 
Some minutes pass, and the moment that some students go back to their dorms to sleep, being exhausted from drinking too much beer, you decide to follow them. You help them, after all it was your duty as the president of the class, even though it was your club and not your course. Nonetheless, a whole hour passes where you are incredibly busy doing so, and it’s helping you forget for a while your nervousness. 
You sigh, finally done. The other students that still didn’t go to sleep, were minding their own business without needing any supervision. You stretch, clearly exhausted and your muscles being sore from bending over again and again to support some drunk heads towards their bed. 
As you step back in the empty corridor, your body hits the chest of someone. You turn around, only to be face to face to your troublemakers. 
“Y/n ? Aren’t you sleeping too ?” asks Satoru, raising his eyebrows and leaning towards, towering over you with Suguru that keeps his hands in his pockets.
“Not yet, I was busy helping out some classmates” you stutter, backing away, clenching your heart with your hand as you squeeze a bit your thighs together. 
“Us too. Hmmm, well. How about before sleeping we spend some time together ? Since it’s the last night. If you want, of course,” purrs Suguru by stepping closer, tilting his head to the side to analyze you better.
“Sugu’, I think she is way too shy now. Maybe leave her alone, we wouldn’t want our poor y/n to feel uncomfortable after what she heard yesterday,” continues Satoru, leaning his forearm on the shoulder of the black haired one, a slight sas smile on his face and shaking his head in a mock concern. 
Yes, you were feeling shy. But you clearly wanted to fulfill your dream, of having something more with them, no matter how problematic it was. It was maybe your only chance right now. So you quickly shake your head, deciding to be brave in your desire. 
“No no no, I’m good. I don’t mind staying with the both of you before sleeping. I’m not really tired, anyways…” you exclaim, and a big, mischievous smile stretches their lips, and you just feel like you were dancing in the palm of their hands. 
“Aww really ? That’s good. Then come here,” replies Satoru as he grabs your shoulders and brings you with them, walking alongside you. 
The three of you arrived at the public living room of the building of the camp, but nobody else was there. It was empty. The moonlight outside illuminates the place through the big window. They close the door behind them, and make you sit on the couch that was in front of the fireplace. You are now sitting in between the two of them, the arm of the white haired one still around your shoulders, meanwhile the thigh of Suguru brushes yours. 
Satoru drinks some water in a cup, and he looks at you. His fingers that were around your shoulders, softly caressing your skin, brings you closer. At the same time, Suguru stretches his arm behind your head, slowly spreading more of his legs, leaving you little space.
“Y/n, if you are here, it’s for a reason, right ?” asks the black haired one, glancing at you. His hand behind your head comes to lightly touch your hair, and you can’t help but shiver.
“You aren’t as innocent as we thought, uh ?” continues Satoru, putting down the glass of water on the table, long fingers sliding under your chin to tilt it towards him. You swallow your saliva, and don’t realize how you bite your lower lip of apprehension. You felt like he was staring right at your soul with his piercing blue eyes shining in the dim atmosphere.
“Why would I be ?” you retort back. The mood felt electric. The hand of Suguru slides down around your waist now, gripping your soft flesh through your shirt.
“Well, we thought it was cute, your crush on us. Even though we are your professors. You know it isn’t right, yeah ?” adds Suguru, and you try to look at him by turning around your head, yet Satoru keeps his grip on your chin firm. You frown, and decide to gather your courage.
“So what ? I’m 22, not some kid. And from what I know, many other students on campus clearly have a crush on both of you too. I don’t cause any harm,” you defend yourself, and almost gasp as the cold and cool fingers of Geto slide under your shirt to gently caress your skin.
“Oh but yes, you caused us harm, y/n. You lied. You said you had feelings for no one on campus, including teachers. We hate people that lie, did you know ?” he whispers, his nails now digging on your waist and you let out a small noise escaping your lips.
“How about you say sorry ?” Satoru grins saying that, leaning forward, his breath on your neck, and softly kissing your pulsating point. You immediately squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the burning desire in your lower stomach.
“Sorry ? I did nothing wrong-”
“Y/n, we don’t like people that lie. You should be sorry. Not only for that, but sorry too because you were listening to our conversation in the hot baths yesterday. You are an adult, not some kid, as you said. Excusing yourself should be easy, right ?” he whispers in your other ear, his long black hair caressing your shoulder and cheek. 
At the same time the sweet lips of Satoru tingle on your neck, and you shiver. You were turned on as ever, and you just wanted to play their little game even more. It was so thrilling. The wet patch on your panties confirmed it.
“Don’t worry, it will be our little secret. Nobody else will know, just you, Suguru, and me. So ? You in, y/n ?” asks Satoru, licking his lips as he mischievously looks at you, and you were screaming of happiness internally. Your dream was coming true, finally. After years of fantasizing, daydreaming, and silly crushes. It was happening ! If you died after it, you were sure you would be happy.
“Fuck. Yeah,” you whisper in a breath, and the moment you give your consent, the lips of Satoru smash against yours. 
You moan, his other hand grabbing your hand and he leans towards you. He moves his mouth sensually against yours, before his soft like velvet tongue caresses yours. Fuck, that was so hot. He kissed like a God, and your years of inactivity made you shyer than you thought. He presses your back against the chest of his best friend, leaving you no room to escape. You rub your thighs together, yet the strong hand of Suguru slides in between them and parts them apart.
“No no no, you can’t, y/n. Only us can. That’s what you get for not saying sorry,” he coos, his fingers caressing your clothed cunt, pressing exactly where your pulsating point was, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Satoru swallows your whimper, deepening the kiss, making it almost hard to keep up.
You had no more time to lament yourself, that the hand of Suguru slips under your pants, and then under your panties. His slender finger slides in between your folds, and the contrast in between the warmth of your cunt and the coldness of his skin makes your legs shake for a second. 
“Satoru, she is dripping wet. Look at that. So cute,” meanly says Suguru, downcasting his soaked digits, and you fluster when you look at them. Satoru even grins against your lips, chuckling a bit.
“I mean, poor y/n didn’t have sex for a long time… Pretty cunt was waiting for us, yeah ?” the white haired one adds, winking at you, and he lets Suguru grab your head quite roughly to make you look at him.
“Maybe you should taste yourself, so you can realize by yourself how needy you are, y/n.” It was more like an order rather than a question. At the same time Satoru is busy unbuttoning your shirt, freeing your breast with your already perked nipples. 
“I-” you start to say, but then he softly puts his soaked digits on your tongue.
“Suck”, he commands. You do so, your tongue swirling around his fingers, and his smile gets larger as he looks at you obediently following what he said. As you suck, Satoru is busy sucking your nipples instead, his other hand occupied fondling it to stimulate both at the same time. You moan on the fingers of Suguru at the feeling, and he slowly takes them off, looking at the saliva that lubricated them. He kisses you now, sliding back his fingers under your pants to reach your twitching pussy. The wetness of your saliva gets mixed with your juice, and he at first circles your clit with his thumb, before letting his middle finger enter your tight hole inch by inch to be sure you were comfortable. You let out a strangled whimper, and Satoru takes the opportunity to bite on your bullied nipple, moving to the center of your breast, letting out a mark.
Soon, the whole finger of Geto is pumping down your cunt, and your hips move slightly. Satoru grabs them, stopping you from squirming too much.
“Already can’t handle it ?” he mocks you.
“Isn’t she kinda pathetic ?” Suguru adds another finger saying that, his thumb still circling your pulsating and red clit.
“So weak, yeah,” answers Satoru, taking off your pants in a swift move. The first seconds, your legs are cold, but the warmth of the fireplace right in front of you on the couch, or the way your body is burning up from pleasure, the coldness soon fades away.
Suguru goes deeper, making you twitch, his long fingers being able to reach your sweet spot. He bullies harder your gummy walls, and you part your lips as you become a moaning mess. Yet, his lips smash against yours again, preventing you from being too loud. You couldn’t get caught, after all.
“We should reward her like that every time she nails her exam, don’t you think, Sugu’ ?” asks Satoru, now sliding off your panties, admiring your dripping cunt swallowing perfectly the fingers of his best friend. He bites the inside of his mouth, cheeks turning red and a cocky smirk spreading on his face.
“Does she even deserve it ? I dunno…” Suguru muses, and you try to reply that yes you do, but the pleasure is too intense you can’t even form a coherent sentence.
“Awww, you’re being so mean to her,” he chuckles, kissing your lonely neck, right there on your throat.
“Feels like she enjoys it, right y/n ?” he coos, looking at you as he stops to make out with you for a second, biting your lower lip.
Your only answer is the way your eyes roll back in your skull, cumming hard on his hand, feeling an explosion in your lower stomach as you squirt for the first time of your life. You thought you saw Heavens, and you couldn’t believe that the single hand of Geto Suguru could do such a thing. When you come back from your high, you butterfly open your eyes, panting and legs shaking. 
“What a waste, y/n.” Satoru pouts, and you have no time to think that he lowers his body and digs in, his mouth directly on your cunt. When you were about to moan of surprise, your mouth was filled by the dripping fingers of Suguru.
“You better be quiet, y/n. We wouldn’t want you to wake up your classmates,” coos Suguru. You almost choke on them.
Your thighs are closing back on Satoru’s head, he chuckles, and it rumbles against your clit. With his two strong hands, he opens them back, tongue latching on your poor abused bundle of nerves. You throw your head back, the free hand of his best friend now playing with your breast. His other, that was first on your mouth, slides down on your throat and grabs it. His bicep flexes around your head when he does so, crushing you even more against him.
“So pretty, you’re a real mess. Who would have thought, hmm ?” says Suguru in a low voice, humming to himself as his fingers contract around your neck. You gasp, but then he licks your lower lip before kissing you to leave you breathless.
Satoru continues to eat you out like a starved man, and no matter how much you were squirming, his hands were firmly holding you in place.
“You taste so fucking good, y/n,” he mumbles against your folds, his tongue sliding inside your dripping hole and his nose hitting your clit. It was driving you mad, they both were keeping you on the edge.
Each time you felt like they were about to let you cum, either Suguru would stop Satoru, or Satoru would slow down by himself. You just wanted to feel relief, and your whimpers got swallowed by the countless kisses of Geto. It was damn torture, yet it felt so damn good. So sweet but almost painfully maddening. 
“If you say sorry, we’ll let you cum, y/n. How about that ?” Whispers Suguru in between kisses, giving a glance to Satoru that returned the same one. His mouth was full of your cunt, letting his best friend do the talking.
“Sorry,” you mumble in a strangled moan.
“Uh-uh. I didn't hear you well. Repeat that ?”
You felt like crying. You were so, so, so close. Fuck. His stupid pretty face made you unable to not obey.
“I’m sorry !” Your eyelids are palpitating and you just fuck off your conscience, not giving a damn about your dignity anymore. Tonight there's no point in thinking too much, they were just here to consume you to the point of overdose.
Suguru grins, and with just a glance, Satoru makes you cum, hard. You throw your head back, your sounds muffled by the hand of Suguru as he kisses your neck. Satoru helps you to ride down your high, until he kisses quite softly your inner thighs. He lifts himself up, and presses his lips against yours to let you taste yourself. Suguru slowly lets go of your neck, his hand supporting you to sit comfortably back. You looked at them with desire, now addicted to the bone and just wanting more.
“Aw, don’t give us that look, y/n, because there will be no more for you tonight” pouts Satoru in a mocking way, shaking his head and tilting your head by grabbing your chin softly.
“What ?” you ask confused, frowning and clearly frustrated.
“Hmm, if you wanna go all the way with us, you have to wait to graduate your major,” starts Suguru, “and then, only then, you’ll taste real heaven. But until this day,” continues Satoru, “we’ll have to keep it down. Deal, y/n ?” finishes Suguru. And they both have the wildest grin ever, one that makes you shiver.
Yeah, one year and a half. One more fucking year and an half before you graduate. You just couldn’t wait for it to happen, to be free to woo them as you wanted, and to have a better taste of Heaven, as they said. You could confirm it.
Would you be able to keep it down, like Suguru said ? Or end up giving in before graduating ? You still had time to see by yourself. It was thrilling, but a torture. Maybe dangerous, toxic and clearly problematic, but it’s been long ago since you threw away any logical thoughts. 
THE END 
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welcomingdisaster · 2 days ago
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things to do in valinor when you're visiting for the second time
go for a walk
look at the new bushes they've planted in the gardens and the dew-drop flowers light in your hands as a butterfly's landing
walk circles around the white city, running your fingers over the buildings left empty
think about vinyamar
try not to think about vinyamar
make a removed artistic critique of the new statue that they've carved, of king standing before the gates of formenos, his chin raised defiantly against doom
try to look dad in the eyes
breathe in the rose-scent of the perfumed pillow
sleep for 3 days straight
try to ignore the whispers of the servants
go for a walk
go for a second, longer walk
bet on horseback races
lose
try to make new friends
think about a poem you want to share with curufin
remember the shit curufin pulled
vividly imagine pushing curufin off a cliff to the wolves
feel kinda bad re: cousin murder daydreams
decide the cousin murder daydreams aren't that bad if they let you out of mandos with them
have a nice family dinner where you don't bring up any dead relatives
write mom a letter you're not going to send
wonder why your little brothers are still caught, somewhere far away, in the dark
go for a walk
cry a little
come up with a really neat idea for an outfit centered around golden cuffs left yet in the ruins of nargothrond
birdwatch
turn to tell edrahil about a red-crested bird and remember edrahil is not birdwatching, as he is dead because of you
cry a little
hum a song maglor came up with
try to decide whether you're mad at maglor or not
go dancing with amarie
feel nothing
stand in square, suffocating in the cold night air
go for a walk
eat a rose in the gardens of lorien
shut yourself in your chambers
journal
try to tell your father about the open chasm in your chest and run out of words
try to remember when you've become the sort of person who runs out of words
go for a walk
return to the doors of the halls of mandos
stare at the blank white marble of the pillars
pick up your chisel
carve
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lovemomhatepolice · 3 days ago
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jude bellingham nswf alphabet (part 2) (minors DNI!)
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N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Oh, Jude is just an innocent kid. He will never ever consent to anal. Whether it's toward you or him - nothing turns him down more. I'm not going to lie - when he hears about it he has to restrain himself so he doesn't have a gag reflex. He himself doesn't know why it affects him so much, but he can't bring himself to think about it - doing it isn't even an option
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He never said it directly, but the sight of you getting down on your knees and taking care of him, oh god. The boy could have come right on the spot if he had even a little less stamina. Fortunately, he doesn't and you can relish it a little longer. Well, I beg you, the sight of such a boy in front of you - and still yours? It couldn't have been better.
And as for giving from yourself - as I mentioned earlier, Jude with you was just learning to know another person's body, but damn how he did it quickly. He paid attention to everything you like and each time it got better and better
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) It depends, to be honest. He rarely exceeds the pace that is right for you - well, unless he is after an unsuccessful match and you yourself give him tips to speed up and be rougher. (But I just have to admit that he loves it when you wriggle under him when he's a little harsher).
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) He likes quick rounds-especially before a game, once you're both settled and about to leave the house (He says it brings him luck). Or when you come to visit him at the Bernabeu stadium and he can take you to his bathroom. With the rest of the quickies, they're pretty fun, aren't they? Sometimes something might fall next to you and hit someone in the head…. oh, poor Jude
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Rather, he is trying not to skip security, after all, both of you have only recently turned 20. In the future, of course, he dreams of having a family with you, but not yet. But when it comes to risking the place, oh yes. Sex in the locker room at the Santiago Bernabeau, on your “private beach” in a tent. Wherever you want - he will be there anyway
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Jude is young, oh he has in him strength and desire a lot. In fact, you only finish when you want to or when you have to. He could never interrupt and still be inside you. After all, this is his favorite place
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Oh, he once got such an inflatable doll from friends, but he does not use it. He was a little frightened by the thought of satisfying himself with an inflatable woman, so he “left” it accidentally in the toilet after that party
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Jude doesn't like teasing you. With you, it's the other way around - you can't help but play with him a little. Especially when it comes to blowjob - you love to slowly lick him, suck him, until he himself doesn't lift his hips up and slap you on the back of the throat, signaling that he's already had enough of your teasing
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Jude Bellingham is a man of groans. When you give him a blowjob, when you lean dangerously close in a short dress, when he's deep inside you. He just doesn't hold back, and knowing that it turns you on, he still allows himself to make louder sounds
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) He loves to make love to you while you are wearing his match shirt. Whether it was his Dortmund jersey, his national team jersey or his current Madrid jersey, when Jude sees you in any of his jerseys, he even cries out for vengeance to heaven. He loves the sight of you with his name on the back and only waits for it to be your name too
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He is huge. Oh let's not lie to ourselves, everyone has seen these pictures from the field and knows that Jude has a lot to boast about. I don't know what more can be said, but you have to trust that he barely fits in you
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) He doesn't need much, sometimes he's like an excited teenager, although of course he approaches it with great respect for you. If you don't feel like it, he doesn't insist one bit. But it really doesn't take much for him, you just need to look at him “differently” and he's ready
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Because of what emotions your sex triggers in him, I don't think he falls asleep quickly. Of course, he is exhausted and his eyes close, but he tries to lie down and talk with you as long as possible. He falls asleep best when you play with his hair or run your hands over his chest. Then it's not hard for him to fall asleep, but he definitely tries to make sure that you fall asleep too, and he doesn't have to have in the back of his mind that he did something wrong by falling asleep
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A/N: part one if anyone missed it!! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 600 followers! if you just like my work - take a look at the masterlist, give a heart, pass, and maybe even follow! it really means a lot to me and helps me grow by reaching more people :) please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)
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capseycartwright · 3 days ago
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miss me, but let me go
“I have - I’ve carried this grief, for you, for so long, and I know I can’t let it all go, because a part of me is always going to grieve for you,” Eddie paused. “But I can’t feel like this forever, Shannon. I don’t think you’d want me to, either. So - I need to let some of it go. Okay? I need to - I need to be myself now. For me, and for Christopher. I want to be me."
On November 1, Eddie builds an altar for Shannon and finds a way to let her go.
ao3 link
November 1. The date is not one Eddie is likely to ever forget. Even before Shannon died, Dia de los Muertos wasn’t a holiday he ever missed - as a child, he would help his abuelo make their altar every year, a picture of his abuelo front-and-centre, Edmundo Diaz Senior, the man he’d been named for, looking sharp in his suit as he looked out from the glass picture frame where he’d lived all of Eddie’s life. He’d never met his grandfather - only carried his name. 
Over the years, more faces found a home on the altar - friends, and family, time a fickle thing and the only certainty about life that it ended. Death was familiar, a constant in a world Eddie felt like he could never quite figure out.
After Shannon died -
The first November 1 after she died, Eddie built his own altar for the first time, explaining the tradition to Christopher. They had done it every year since, Christopher’s face in a set line as he made sure everything was absolutely perfect. No less than his mother deserved, Eddie knew. 
Shannon hadn’t grown up with the traditions of All Saints and All Souls, but she’d embraced them wholly when she and Eddie had gotten married, making the altar herself when Eddie wasn’t there. It felt right to honour her with the traditions she had loved herself. That was why Eddie had taken to adding a picture of Shannon’s mother to the altar too, when she died the year after Shannon did. Breast cancer, they’d said, but Eddie knew heartbreak had been the thing that had pushed her over the edge.
Every year, Eddie celebrated Shannon, and her mother, his grandfather, the people he’d served with who had died - 
Except this year.
Eddie felt bad. Really, he did - he was going to build the altar himself, but when his dad had texted a picture of the Diaz family altar, Shannon front and centre, Eddie couldn’t quite bring himself to make his own. Shannon was being remembered - that was what mattered. He’d gone to her grave instead, only half listening as the priest had said mass over the graveyard, praying for the salvation of the souls who were buried there.
Grief was a funny old beast, Eddie knew. Grief had made him do crazy things - grief had driven his son to Texas, for crying out loud. The grief didn’t hit standing by her grave, but it did when dusk descended over Eddie’s house, and the absence of an altar began to feel like one of the worst things he’d done amongst a year of terrible decision-making.
Maybe he should have taken Buck up on his offer of coming over to make an altar with him, but Eddie had asked enough of his best friend in the last four months. Eddie knew Tommy had bought them tickets for some movie Buck was dying to see, and as much as Eddie was a near-professional third wheel now, he didn’t think he’d make a good addition to the back row of their local movie theatre.
Eddie winced as he looked at the candle he’d swiped from the dining table. “It’s cedarwood,” he said, apologetic as he lit it, setting the candle down in front of the framed picture of Shannon that lived on their fireplace. “I know you hated cedarwood, but I’m working with what I’ve got here, Shan.”
Eddie pressed his cheek against his folded arms, taking one, two, three shaky breaths. “I really struggled after you left, Shannon. I don’t think I really even realised how much until now - and it’s not just because you were gone, but you were gone and you wanted a divorce, and I - suddenly, I was never going to get answers.”
He’d been talking about Shannon a lot in therapy, lately, unpacking all his complicated feelings during his excruciating weekly hour with Frank. 
“I don’t know if I even wanted to stay married to you,” Eddie admitted, the candle flickering in the growing dark of his living room. That was terrifying to admit out loud - that even if she had stayed alive, he and Shannon wouldn’t have made it work. There were a thousand reasons why, and Eddie could sit, and list them all, but one was more important than the others. 
“I think I’m gay, Shannon,” Eddie had never said it out loud before, despite the thought never quite leaving his mind, Pandora’s box open, now. “If you were here, I bet you’d have such a laugh with that - not like, in a bad way. Just - I think you’d find it funny, that your mom’s gaydar was right after all.” 
He couldn’t help but laugh at the thought himself. Shannon’s mom had been the bitchiest woman he’d ever met, and Eddie loved her for it. 
“I’ve made such a mess of things,” Eddie paused. “But with you, most of all. I’m sorry - for my part in it all. I thought I was doing the right thing, joining the army. I just wanted to take care of you and Chris, and I didn’t see any other way out. I know it was the wrong choice - but I really thought it was the right one. You know?”
Shannon’s picture stayed silent. 
“I have - I’ve carried this grief, for you, for so long, and I know I can’t let it all go, because a part of me is always going to grieve for you,” Eddie paused. For the life she might have had, if not for the car crash - Eddie sometimes liked to indulge himself and think of an alternative life where Shannon had survived, where they got divorced, and learned how to co-parent, and maybe they found their way back to being friends. It was a nice thought.
Eddie wiped roughly at his eyes. “But I can’t feel like this forever, Shannon. I don’t think you’d want me to, either. So - I need to let some of it go. Okay? I need to - I need to be myself now. For me, and for Christopher. I want to be me.” 
With a shaky hand, Eddie pressed a kiss to the framed picture, setting Shannon back down with the candle. It was a half-assed altar, and somehow, that made Eddie feel worse. He scrambled to his feet, heading for his bedroom, and the box of Shannon’s belongings he knew was stashed at the back of his wardrobe. He hadn’t kept much for himself - most of it was for Christopher - but he had a few things. There was a necklace in there, he knew that Eddie had bought her for their first wedding anniversary. It was a cheap thing, because they were always broke, but it was something of hers - it would make it a more acceptable offering.
Eddie couldn’t help the breath that hitched in his throat as he spotted what was in his bedroom. A butterfly, resting on his pillowcase, on the side he always slept on. “Hey, little guy,” he whispered softly, not wanting to startle the tiny creature. His abuela loved butterflies - they were spirits of the people you loved, who had left, coming back to visit. Eddie felt slightly ridiculous, but he said it anyway. “Shannon?”
The butterfly didn’t move. 
“I’m so glad Christopher isn’t here, because he would really think I’ve lost it,” Eddie crouched by the side of his bed, holding out a finger. “Hey. Is this your way of telling me it’s okay to let you go? Did you hear all of that?” 
The butterfly moved, tiny wings fluttering as it came to land on Eddie’s outstretched finger. 
“I hope that’s a yes,” Eddie knew tears were streaming down his cheeks, now, but he didn’t want to freak the butterfly out by wiping them away. “How did you get in here, eh? None of the windows are open.”
If Eddie Diaz believed in a higher power, still, he’d blame God - or the universe. 
“Let’s get you outside,” Eddie said, and the butterfly flapped, a little, coming to land on the windowsill instead. “Yeah? You’re ready to go?”
The butterfly flapped in response again.
“I think I’m ready to let you go, this time,” Eddie admitted, carefully unlatching the window. “We’re going to be okay, me and Christopher. I promise. You can go. You don’t need to worry about us.” 
The butterfly seemed to pause, for a second, before it flew out the open window, disappearing into the beginnings of the evening. Eddie wasn’t sure how long he stood there, tears pouring down his cheeks, rolling off the curve of his chin and onto his shirt, but the next thing he knew, he could hear - 
“Buck?”
“Eddie! You’re a firefighter - how long have you left that candle unattended, huh? Eddie - Eddie, where are you, man?”
Buck appeared in the doorway of Eddie’s bedroom, a family-sized bag of sour patch kids tucked under one arm. “Do I need to teach you the basics of fire safety all over again?” he huffed, pausing as he noticed Eddie’s tears. “Eddie - you okay?”
“Yeah,” Eddie offered his best friend a teary smile. For the first time, Eddie might actually mean that yes. “I’m okay. There - there was a butterfly,” he explained, gesturing at the window vaguely. “I had to let it out.”
“A butterfly?” Buck looked confused. 
“My abuela always said butterflies were the spirits of people who’ve died,” Eddie explained. “I lit a candle for Shannon, and there was a butterfly just sitting on my pillow, when I came in here. It’s…” he paused. “It’s stupid.”  
Buck’s face softened. ‘It’s not stupid,” he shook his head. “You think it was Shannon?”
Eddie glanced at the window again. “I hope it was,” he admitted, taking a deep breath before he closed the window. That in itself felt like symbolism, Eddie decided - a closing of a chapter he should have let go a long time ago. That’s what he needed it to be, at least. “Wait - aren’t you meant to be on a date?”
Bcuk shrugged. “We changed the tickets to tomorrow,” he explained, holding up the bag of candy. “You said you weren’t going to make an altar, and I didn’t want to let you skip out on it. These were her favourite, right?” 
Eddie could cry all over again. Buck, like Shannon, hadn’t grown up with Dia de los Muertos, but here he was, with a bag of Eddie’s dead wife’s favourite candy, ready to sit in Eddie’s grief with him. Eddie wasn’t sure what he’d done in a previous life to deserve a friend like Evan Buckley, but he thanked whatever God or universe was listening for giving him Buck anyway.
“She’d eat so many she’d give herself a stomach-ache,” Eddie grinned, and the memory didn’t hurt, the way it used to, the grief a dull ache that he could grow around, now. He leaned into the embrace Buck offered, breathing in the familiar cedarwood scent of Buck’s favourite cologne. “Thanks. For being here.”
“Nowhere I’d rather be,” Buck hummed, pressing a ridiculous, loud, smacking kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. Eddie loved him. “But I’m buying you one of those electric candle warmers if you’re going to keep leaving candles unattended, Eddie.” 
Eddie was mostly listening as he let Buck guide him back to the living room, the candle still flickering golden in front of Shannon’s picture. It was the same one he’d put on her memorial programme - bright, and beautiful, just like she’d always been when she was alive. 
Buck grinned, as he set a piece of candy in front of her picture. “Berry,” he explained. “My favourite,” he added, tossing a handful of the sour sweets into his own mouth. 
They sat, the television playing reruns of a procedural in the background, eating candy until their stomachs hurt, the candle burning all the way to the end. 
The butterfly didn’t come back.
Buck stayed.
Eddie was ready to move on.
(Buck stayed.)
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roxineedstosleep · 2 days ago
Text
Sooo... some ideas that happend to appear in my mind.
But, let's make the situation a bit more ridiculousand angst. Bc, Damian is, after all, the reason why the batfam members start to notice you.
More over, after some no so nice situations that Damian put you through.
-----
Damian, who by now is starting to sound like the Shepherd Boy Who Cried Wolf, starts to become completely annoying not only to you - who in all the mess of construction and petty adventures never causes anyone any harm - but to all the adults in the family.
Dick got tired of listening to Damian - especially when he interrupted one of the arrests he was making at the time - after he threw a tantrum when he found you sitting on the couch trying to dress Titus.
According to Damian, you had created an international dog and pet clothing brand of such gamma that the debut and closing of your canine fashion company had happened in the living room of the mansion. I mean, yes, you really had created a pet clothing brand, and the international debput definitely happened in the mansion… only nothing was there anymore because one of the guests - a very nice Arab heir, it should be noted - decided that the brand would be the perfect gift for his fashion designer wife. So he took it all away at that moment.
Only some garments had been left behind and you had thought it would be a waste that no one would wear them. That's how Damian and Dick found you, trying to make a dog sweater fit Titus, Alfred the Cat was wearing a tutu.
Dick clearly had to put a stop to it after Damian to tear Titus' new sweater in his eagerness to show the tag.
Bruce had to get involved, and nearly fainted when he noticed the price - per the shop's website - of the sweater and tutu. The only good thing, at least he reckons, was that the garments were fail demos of the originals, so they had come at a good price. Clearly, he and Bruce don't know how a box from the official shop later arrived at the mansion - they don't believe Damian's story about how he heard you calling the owner about the incident and how they would send you new sweaters - and he didn't want to know how. But Bruce didn't hesitate to chastise Damian for interrupting Dick.
He just hoped that these silly accusations would end and not escalate any further.
Or at least that's what he thought until what happened with Tim.
--
And Tim, was not happy about it.
The two brothers, per se, don't usually have more problems than they already have in missions. But even Tim began to find Damian's childish hyper-fixations tedious.
I mean, he knows what his brother has been through, and no doubt a part of him is glad to know that at least he's getting something normal out of childish behaviour with these imaginative accusations… but even he knows that the last thing he accused you of was a bit out of line.
Not long ago you had managed - he's a little embarrassed to admit he had no idea how or with what money, and he won't listen to Damian with the ridiculous idea that it was with the money from the check that Arab millionaire gave you - to get yourself a small shaved ice cream machine.
So, at least from what Alfred once or twice mentioned about the increase in fruit-flavoured caramel on your shopping list, you've been making shaved ice for a few weeks now. It seems that was enough for Damian to drag him out of bed - after he'd been on a 15-day mission with almost no sleep or coffe- and drag him all over the mansion, with the silly excuse that you'd created an ice amusement park for the penguins at the Zoo.
When they both arrived in the courtyard of the mansion, they only saw you eating some ice together with some classmates from your school. Your eyes were red from crying and the machine was broken no so far from you and your friend were sitting.
You were sitting down, as if you had had a little polar-themed picnic - because of the white pillows and the blanket that prevented them from touching the grass - along with some penguin stuffed animals of yours and some shaved ice around them. That's not to mention lots of games, like Dick's old trampoline and Ace's forgotten slide next to the ball pit.
Unfortunately, from what your classmate mentioned to him when he asked about your broken shaving machine, you were in the middle of a ‘penguin ice party’ with more of your classmates when Damian arrived it. That apparently made all the guests leave because of the fuss that his little brother made. No affter he run to find him to bring him there.
Which, it wasn't all bullshit. Your little machine made too much ice, which prompted a friend from school to call an acquaintance who brought the penguins from the Zoo - because their freezer in their habitat was broken and would take a couple of hours to fix - and the whole place filled up with classmates, penguins and ice. Damian saw the whole mess and ran so fast that he accidentaly pulled the cable that was connecting the machine, breaking your machine in the process. Not only was the party cut short, but the Zoo had already settled their business and taken the penguins back to their place.
And that's how Tim found you.
Crying next to your friend, who tried to comfort you by giving you one of the last shaved ice cones. While all your blankets adn penguin stuffed animals were getting ruined or wet from all the ice that had started to melt.
It is worth noting that even Dick - after hearing the story from him- found that accusation towards you rather distasteful. And Bruce had to replace the machine with a new one; though even Tim felt sorry for you, since after that incident you donated it to Gotham Zoo.
Even though, he was kind of surprised to later found out that your donation brings you the Gothams Zoo's appretiation. Since later on, you arrived with some new penguins stuffies and theme blankets.
... on a more light-hearted note, imagine a phineas and ferb scenario except neglected! reader is the gifted child that is overlooked by platonic! batfamily, building all sorts of insane contraptions mysteriously disappear for unknown reasons and damian is the only one in the family seeing this shit happen, slowly losing his mind trying to bust his sibling to bruce or his siblings (etc.) only to find that giant robot/waterpark/space rollecoaster is no longer there. once again he looks like a resentful brother trying to incriminate his only blood sibling, whom he seems to have a vendetta against.
i mean, can you blame them? you're just sorta there. just doing your own thing, going to school, hanging out with friends, keeping to yourself. it's embarrassing to admit, but they often forget you live at the manor. you're one of the teenagers to exist. so when damian comes running to dick, saying "look! look! i finally busted them. the cameras caught-" only for the magically corrupted footage to show him 3 minutes of you hanging out under a tree, cut, hanging out under a tree again, let's say dick is... confused.
or when he removed jason from a mission, guiding him at full speed back to the manor, where you were home alone and working on a weather-changing machine because you wanted to have winter snow during summer, except they arrive to find you eating cereal on the kitchen counter. no machine to be seen.
eventually they just dismiss it as damian being petty and acting his age for once. it's the whole being bruce wayne's only blood child and heir to the wayne legacy that you kinda got in the middle of by existing and stuff, they're sure. i mean, you? doing all that? the very idea is so absurd it doesn't even trigger their suspicions. you're the civilian among civilians, every time they look your way you're doing homework or watching funny orange cat compilation videos on youtube.
whether damian's failures to expose you are absurdly coincidental or you just know how to avoid the batfamily's watchful eye is up for debate. well, it's for the best, either way. there’s a 104 days of summer vacation and you're basking in being left alone by the family, and bruce would be livid if he found out about the things you've been doing behind his back, so...
just... hope they don't find out, okay?
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mononijikayu · 11 hours ago
Text
say so — nanami kento.
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As you looked at him, you knew that he knew that. But he was only human. It wasn’t easy to not be swayed by human doubts and impulse. You never faulted him for that. If anything, it made you fall in love with him over and over again.  Because your Kento was both sides of the coin of human life. And you embrace it, more than you could ever imagine. Love is just that way. You knew that to be true. You stepped closer, your hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders, grounding him. “Kento, I want you. Only you.” you said, your voice filled with the sincerity you hoped he could feel. “I want you more than anything. Because you’re my life. My oxygen. My everything.”
GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;
WARNING/s: Post-Shibuya Arc, R-18, Smut, Fingering, P to V Sex, Passionate Sex, Pet Names (My Love, Baby), Romance, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Nanami, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Drama, Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Jealousy, Teasing, Fix-It, Humor, Domesticity, Family Life, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Idiots In Love, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Pining, Nanami Being A Great Husband, Nanami Kento is FATHER™️;
WORDS: 9.5k words.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: nanami won my poll again!!! hurray!!! here's tmi about this - thiis was half way finished when i came back to write it, but then i got sick again and i started writing this more differently than my direction. i got frustrated so i stopped for a while then i forgot about it and then i wanted to finish it.
oh, also kento and you speak danish at home, because you both feel like a secret language between you and him. gojo is also retired — thats going to be in us and them!!! thank you so much for waiting!!! thank you for reading too!!! i love you all !!! see you in the gojo fic (second place) <3
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i love you so | say so
next: little wonders
HE THOUGHT THAT HE WOULD ALWAYS BE NONCHALANT. Nanami Kento never thought he’d be the type to get jealous. After all, he prided himself on being calm and composed, grounded in logic.
But lately, things have changed. You had changed—or rather, something about you had. At least that’s what he noticed now that you’ve come back to Tokyo, so he could become a mentor to the kids with Gojo’s retirement. 
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Nanami Kento had finally left the endless grind of Jujutsu society, traded the blood and curses for a quiet life in Malaysia, far from the threat of battle.
But when he got that call, it felt like the past had come clawing back, unwilling to let him go. Itadori Yuji’s name on Gojo’s lips stirred something within him—something old, duty-bound, and unwilling to see an innocent youth, especially one with Yuji’s heart, left adrift.
Gojo Satoru's concern was about more than just Yuji, though. Nanami listened as the retired special grade sorcerer, sitting on a cruise across the globe, rattled off frustrations with the new leadership at Jujutsu High and Jujutsu society as a whole. All of it having formed with what he had known from his contacts back at hom.
At the center of it was Usami. That man, the strongest of all first class sorcerers, Usami, who never defied the higher-ups, who prioritized orders and tradition over compassion, whose unfeeling approach Gojo had seen all too often among those aligned with the elders.
Nanami Kento knew the type. They were the very people he’d worked so hard to avoid throughout his career, the type who saw Jujutsu sorcerers as tools more than as people, especially the students.
Now, with Gojo’s absence, Usami had stepped into a more central role at Jujutsu High, and Gojo wasn’t comfortable with it. Why would he? He’s still supporting the remaining conservative factions in Jujutsu High.
There was no other way to feel about it other than this, but concern. The return of a conservative faction, under Gakuganji, would stifle Gojo’s gambles these past few years. Gambles Kento had agreed with, even if not wholeheartedly. 
“I don’t want him making decisions for my students, you know? I’m sure you agree about that with me too.” Gojo said bluntly, his tone carrying the usual lazy confidence but undercut by a genuine concern. “They’ve been through enough. They deserve someone who understands them.” 
Kento could hear Gojo's frustration; it was an unusual tone in the voice of someone who otherwise seemed to brush off his troubles. And in that sentiment, Nanami found himself nodding in agreement. It didn’t sit well with him, either. But what could he do? He is retired now, isn't he? There was no need for this chatter.
Gojo, as though reading his hesitation, chuckled knowingly over the line. “Look, I’m technically retired too, Nanami. I know your feelings about this.” he said with that familiar cheek in his voice. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t meddle. Keeps me busy as I get old, you know? Gojo clan head is empty without any drama.” 
There was a pause, and Kento didn’t know what to say. Gojo Satoru, even in their younger years, used his status to continue to advocate for his interests. And Kento didn’t like it as much, he was someone who liked rules, after all.
Even if he agreed with them, he thinks about the context of propriety. But he knows the soul of Gojo’s argument. He agrees with that. Gojo’s voice softened on the other line.
“Don’t you ever want to keep busy too? I mean, especially when your wife’s at her job? You’re both still in the thick of it, in your own ways. Being a house husband doesn’t always satisfy the itch. Before you rebuttal, you know I’m not lying. ”
Nanami sighed. Gojo’s words struck a nerve. He’s not wrong. Genmei–san also works still, helping out at temples when she has the time. Most of the time, if they weren’t on holiday, it would be Gojo waiting at home and taking care of their children. For a moment, Nanami sat down to think about it properly. 
You were deeply invested in your work as a novelist. You adore it, you truly do. But often, it’s hard for you to deal with. You were just as much an independent person in your own right and that was your own mission, your own purpose.
He admired you for that, but there were times when he found himself wondering about his place. He adores taking care of you, he adores being by your side all the time. He adores being your house–husband. 
But he often questions, besides that, away from the frontline, away from Jujutsu, what was his purpose now? Was he truly content to let the world of sorcery continue without him, even if it meant leaving those like Yuji to struggle without guidance? Or the kids? What can he do for them? What can he do now?
“Fine, Gojo.” Nanami finally muttered. “I’ll look into it. Just… don’t get used to this.” He could practically hear Gojo’s grin over the line, a smug sort of satisfaction that Nanami knew all too well.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Gojo replied smoothly in response. “But I’ll admit, it’s good to have you back, even if just for a little while.”
And so, he tried to muster the courage to tell you about what he had agreed to. Dinner was a warm, familiar ritual together. And by the beachside in Kuantan, everything about it was a wonder to behold.
The sounds of clinking plates and gentle conversation filled the room, and the two of you settled into the ease of being home together, savoring the evening without the rush of tomorrow hanging over you. 
You were halfway through telling him about something small that had happened during your day at the market when he cleared his throat, a subtle shift in his usual, deliberate movements. His fingers, wrapped around his glass, seemed to tighten slightly. You looked at him a little bit confused. 
“There’s something I need to tell you, my love.” he began, meeting your gaze with a calm determination. "I’ve decided… to return to Tokyo." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in before he continued. "Jujutsu High needs someone to look after the first years. With Gojo retired, things are… in flux."
You blinked, feeling a jolt of surprise, but before you could fully react, he was already explaining, his tone quickening just a touch, as if he’d anticipated your questions. It was rare for your husband to be this way, to ramble about and have his bright brown eyes shake as he looked at you with a shaken uncertainty. But you know when he becomes this way, it’s because of things he cares about.
“It’s not active service, don’t worry about that, my love.” he assured, almost hurriedly, his hand drifting toward yours in an unspoken promise. “I’m not heading back into the field. It’s only to mentor the kids, give them someone they can rely on. They deserve that, especially now.”
You saw his resolve deepen as he spoke of them, the younger students who’d become like family over the years. His voice softened, and you could tell this wasn’t just about filling Gojo’s shoes. 
"I can’t abandon Yuji, he’s already without someone. I can’t really do much more damage by leaving him without someone." he said with quiet conviction, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you understood. 
“Kento—”
"I know how much he’s been through, and… I don’t want him facing it alone. Nobara, too—she’s so headstrong. She’ll need someone she can turn to, someone to help her channel all that fire. And Gojo’s bound to ask for updates on Fushiguro all the time. You know how he is with him. With them. I just….I just don’t want them to feel so alone about this at all. Usami is gaining some foothold and the conservatives are just….its complicated.”
A small smile tugged at your lips as you listened, watching the familiar strength in his face, the quiet protector in him springing back to life. Passion was beautiful in your husband. Seeing even more alive with such caring passion makes you happy.
His gaze held yours, steady and honest, a reassurance that his heart was set on this, that he wasn’t leaving you behind but rather doing what he felt was right, the only thing that made sense.
You let the warmth you felt for him reflect in your smile, reaching for his hand as it rested between you. “Of course, Kento.” you replied softly, squeezing his fingers with encouragement. “They couldn’t have anyone better.”
A soft exhale escaped him, the tension leaving his shoulders as he squeezed your hand back. Relief and gratitude flickered across his face, the subtle shift of a man who didn’t often ask for things but knew he’d been understood completely. There was no need for grand gestures or lengthy explanations between the two of you; your silent agreement spoke volumes.
The conversation turned to lighter things, back to the warmth of dinner. But every so often, you caught his expression softening, a look of contentment and resolve, knowing he was about to embark on something meaningful, not just for him, but for those who needed him.
But of course, that also came with cons.
The move to Tokyo was a calm one.
But it was also a disastrous one, in his mind.
You were both too busy to spend time together.
The shift was subtle at first. Kento began to spend more and more hours at Jujutsu High, guiding the first years, sharing his experience, and quietly observing their progress. He’d come home later than usual, sometimes with papers under his arm and a faint weariness in his expression that he tried to mask with a smile. 
Meanwhile, you were pouring yourself into your new book, the words and ideas flowing freely under the careful guidance of your new editor. It was an exciting time, both for your work and for him. There was a renaissance in your paths to life blossoming in your efforts. But there was a toll, a quiet distance neither of you fully acknowledged.
One evening, you noticed the weight in his gaze as he joined you at the table. He seemed quieter, his usual calm presence tinged with something else; something like sadness. You set down your work, reaching across to hold his hand, catching the faint glimmer of surprise in his eyes.
“Things have been so busy lately, my love.” he murmured, his voice soft, almost reluctant to admit it aloud. “I miss being able to spend more time with you.”
Your heart softened at his honesty, and you squeezed his hand gently. “I miss it too, Kento.” you replied, meeting his gaze with reassurance. “But you know how this is… the busy season. Soon, I’ll be back to post-writing mode, and we’ll have more time to do things together. This won’t last forever.”
He nodded, his lips curling into a small, understanding smile. “You’re right. It’s just… different.” There was a flicker of relief in his eyes, but it was short-lived.
As the weeks went on, your new editor’s involvement became more intense, often stretching into late-night calls or spontaneous meetings that kept you occupied well beyond the hours you’d once spent with Kento.
He’d catch you on the phone, your voice animated in a way that was hard to miss, even as he stood in the doorway waiting for a chance to say goodnight. It was hard to deal with, day by day.
But he said nothing, keeping his feelings carefully hidden behind the same mask of calm he’d worn so well for years. But you could sense it, the slight slump of his shoulders, the way his gaze lingered on you just a little longer.
It was as if he was hoping you’d glance up, catch his eye, and read the unspoken questions there. In the quiet moments, he’d watch you, a silent longing in his gaze, feeling the bittersweet ache of being close but somehow… not close enough.
It was an unspoken tension, a soft thread pulled too tight between the two of you. And though he never voiced it, you began to sense how much he missed you—not just physically, but in all the little moments you once shared, now slipping through his fingers.
After all, you guys were all you truly had in all these times. He would always crave everything about you. About loving you, about being close to you. Just you. He missed you.
Nanam Kento was sure that he hadi tried to be patient. He reminded himself, over and over, that this was temporary, just a busy period that would eventually pass. He knew how much this book meant to you and understood how important it was to have an editor who could match your energy and vision. 
But despite all his quiet resolve, he couldn’t ignore the pang of envy that crept in every time he saw you light up, laughing or discussing something animatedly over the phone.
The way you and your editor connected; it was undeniable. The easy flow between you two, the synergy that seemed to bridge ideas without any need for words, stirred something unsettled in him.
He would come home from a long day at Jujutsu high, weary but hopeful to catch up with you. Instead, he’d often find you mid-call, your voice carrying hints of excitement he hadn’t heard in a while. You’d wave him a quick greeting, mouthing that you’d be off soon, but “soon” stretched, and his footsteps grew slower on his way to your side.
It wasn’t that he doubted you or the love between you two. He trusted you deeply. But the way you seemed to come alive with this editor… it stung in a way he hadn’t anticipated. He knew you and this person worked well together, that they understood your work and helped bring out your best ideas. 
He understood it logically, but logic did little to quell the feeling of being left on the sidelines. After all, it was a feeling he recognized too well—the familiar ache of watching from a distance, of caring deeply and yet holding his tongue.
Some nights, he’d sit across from you at dinner, glancing up occasionally, only to see you distracted, your mind clearly still on your work. Or you’d mention a new idea your editor had suggested, a change you hadn’t considered but were now eager to explore.
And though he nodded, offering his encouragement, he couldn’t shake the thought: When was the last time I could make her smile like that?
As the weeks went by, he felt it more keenly, this quiet envy of the time you spent together. It wasn’t that he begrudged you for the partnership, but he couldn’t help wishing that he could have more of that side of you for himself; the side that was vibrant and full of life, that spark of curiosity and joy he’d always adored.
Nanami Kento wasn’t one to give voice to his insecurities easily, and he knew how silly he might sound, envious over something so innocent. He was a secured man, in all the ways he knew he was. He knew that too well. Yet as much as he told himself it was foolish, the feeling lingered.
So he held back, watching you in those moments with a quiet ache, determined to keep his envy hidden. He’d stay later at the school, throw himself into lesson planning, sometimes even offer to cover additional duties, as though it might distract him. But each time he came home, seeing you lost in conversation or laughter, he couldn’t shake the feeling that, for now, a part of you belonged to someone else.
He told himself it was just work. You had deadlines; he understood that. But there was something else. Whenever your phone pinged with a message, you’d check it quickly, smile to yourself, then type out a reply, sometimes with a small laugh or a shake of your head. And every time, he’d feel a sharp pang of something foreign to him: jealousy.
Kento tried to reason with himself. You were his wife, and he trusted you implicitly. You had built a life together, one based on love, understanding, and mutual respect. But that didn’t stop the gnawing feeling in his chest whenever he saw you so absorbed in those messages or whenever he saw that spark of excitement in your eyes when you talked about the feedback your editor gave you.
He knew it was irrational, but he couldn’t shake the thought. When he saw you typing away late into the evening, smiling at the screen, a quiet worry settled in the back of his mind. What was this editor like? Why did their input seem to matter so much to you? And why did Kento, who usually approached everything in life with composure, find himself so deeply unsettled?
Tonight, though, he’d had enough. He stood in the doorway to your office, watching you as you leaned over your laptop, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, fully immersed in your work.
You looked beautiful, more beautiful than ever, but that same nagging feeling of jealousy coiled tighter in his chest. And before he could stop himself, something in him just snapped.
“So, my love.” he said, his voice calm yet edged with tension. “Another late night, huh?”
“Yeah, it would seem so!” You retort, noticing him. “You’ve just come home?”
“Just a while ago.” He says to you, watching you turn your head back to your computer. You were typing even faster. He was sure you were trying to finish it, now that he was home.
You looked up once again, a soft smile lighting up your face. “I didn’t even hear you come in. You came in as sly as a little cat!” You stretched, setting aside your laptop and glancing at him warmly. “I was just going over some notes. The editor had a few thoughts on the latest chapter.”
”Did he have any suggestions for this part?" he asked, casually trying to keep his tone even as he nodded toward your screen.
You looked up, clearly surprised. "Who, my editor?"
"Yeah, my love." he said, keeping his gaze fixed on you as he leaned against the doorframe. "It just seems like he's been really… involved in your work lately."
You tilted your head, noticing the unusual tension in his voice, the way his words held a heaviness that wasn’t like him. “Well, that’s what they’re paid to do, you know?” you replied gently, hoping to keep things light, maybe coax a smile out of him. 
But his expression didn’t shift. You could tell almost immediately. Instead, his eyes held a quiet, guarded intensity that stopped you in your tracks. Realizing this was more than a casual remark, you closed your laptop, giving him your full attention.
“Kento… Is something wrong?” you asked, voice soft, searching his face for a sign of what was going on inside him.
He crossed his arms, hesitating. For a moment, he almost looked as if he wanted to brush it off, to go back to his usual collected demeanor, but he stopped. Instead, he looked at you with an intensity that caught you off guard. 
“I know it’s irrational, and I know it’s probably nothing.” he said finally, his voice quiet, almost reluctant. “But… I don’t like seeing you so wrapped up in this person’s feedback. You’ve been smiling at your phone more than you do at me lately, and I’m… not exactly used to feeling like this.”
The vulnerability in his words, the admission from someone usually so calm and composed, made your heart soften instantly. You reached out, covering his hand with yours, feeling the tension there, the way his fingers reflexively squeezed back. 
“Kento, baby.” you said, voice warm. “You don’t have to feel that way. No editor or anyone else could ever mean as much to me as you do. None of them are you. There’s only one of you, you know?”
He relaxed just a little, his shoulders easing as he let your words sink in. But he didn’t let go of that guarded look, the one that still held a hint of uncertainty. “Then why does it feel like I’m… competing for your attention?” he asked, his gaze never leaving yours. It was a simple question, but the way he asked it, with a vulnerability that you knew he rarely revealed, struck you deeply.
You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “I guess I didn’t realize how it looked.” you admitted, your thumb brushing lightly along his hand. “It’s just… I got excited about the project, and the new feedback’s been inspiring. But…I’m so sorry for not noticing or making you feel that way, baby.” 
You reached out, tracing a gentle hand down his arm, feeling the tension start to melt away as you looked into his eyes. “None of that compares to what I have with you. I hope you know that.  You’re the one I come home to, Kento. You’re the one who matters most. I love you. Only you.”
He seemed to exhale, his expression softening. You could see the quiet relief in his eyes, the way the tension finally started to lift, and it made you want to close whatever lingering distance was left between you. And then, his voice, low and almost hesitant, broke the silence.
“Tell me, my love.” he whispered, barely above a murmur. “Tell me that you want me. Just… say it.”
The raw vulnerability in his voice, that rare openness he was offering, made your heart ache in the best way. You don’t think you had ever felt like this before Kento. But every day since then, your heart has created more motions you could never understand. And you know, you just knew – it was because you loved him more than anything in life. 
As you looked at him, you knew that he knew that. But he was only human. It wasn’t easy to not be swayed by human doubts and impulse. You never faulted him for that. If anything, it made you fall in love with him over and over again. 
Because your Kento was both sides of the coin of human life. And you embrace it, more than you could ever imagine. Love is just that way. You knew that to be true. You stepped closer, your hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders, grounding him.
“Kento, I want you. Only you.” you said, your voice filled with the sincerity you hoped he could feel. “I want you more than anything. Because you’re my life. My oxygen. My everything.”
He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and before either of you could say another word, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm, firm embrace. The warmth you had come to hold onto in this life. 
You sank into his hold, resting your head against his chest, feeling the steady, reassuring beat of his heart beneath your ear. There was a familiar comfort there, a quiet strength in his embrace, that had always felt like home.
For a few moments, you both stayed that way, close and quiet, as if the world outside had faded and left only the two of you. He lifted his head slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead/
Kento murmured into your hair, his voice gentle. “Promise me you’ll take a break from work. I’ll do it too. We’ll spend time together. Just us. No one else.”
You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, a soft smile spreading across your lips. “Of course, my baby. I can postpone everything else. If it’s you, everything else can wait. My husband being happy is more important to me!” you whispered.
A quiet sense of relief washed over him, and he held you a little tighter, his own smile finally breaking through, his usual calm confidence restored. For Kento, there was no greater feeling than knowing you were his and that you were here, sharing this quiet, peaceful moment with him.
As he held you close, he felt a deep contentment, one he rarely allowed himself to savor. The jealousy that had once gripped him faded entirely, replaced by a quiet certainty. Of course there should be. Why wouldn't there be?
The certainty that your love, your life together, was the one thing in the world he could rely on. That he was sure. You love him, after all. And as he closed his eyes, resting his chin atop your head, he silently thanked the universe for you, for this love that was more real, more enduring, than any fleeting worry or passing jealousy.
This, he thought to himself, was where he belonged. 
Right here, in this moment, in your arms.
Nowhere else can compare to this.
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YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AND HAVE A PICNIC. The night before you had agreed that it would be nice to enjoy the Tokyo sun, and have a picnic at the park. You talked about a cat cafe nearby too. He talked about how the yakisoba dish was introduced at his favorite restaurant. There were new spots popping out in Tokyo for you both to check out.
That’s what you agreed on. Today was supposed to be simple, a peaceful day just to unwind and enjoy each other’s company. But the moment you woke up and felt his gaze linger a bit longer.
Slowly, smoothly, you could feel his hand finding the curve of your waist, you knew that quiet was about to turn into something much more intense. You knew your husband too well. When he’s hungry — he remains hungry.
He pulled you close, his grip both gentle and possessive as his eyes darkened. “Mine, only mine.” he murmured, the word almost a growl, his fingers tracing your skin like he wanted to memorize every part of you. 
The world around you melted away as he took his time, every kiss and touch filled with a need that made your heart race. You let him, giving himself over as he murmured softly against your skin, “My pretty wife… just for me.”
You could feel him stretching you out so perfectly with his fingers, causing you to moan loudly. Your husband was good, too good at everything he does. But when it comes to you, he was beyond excellent. Your eyes felt hazy as he looked at you with that predatory stare. You held him even closer, your moan getting louder. 
Your head turns awry with the high as you continue to ride his fingers as he kisses your neck, you're stuck against the wall occupied by him. No one, not even your previous lovers, those green boy boyfriends were able to make you feel this good.
No one could make you feel this way. Only him. Only your husband, your Kento. And every single time, he knew it. Even with his jealousy, he knew it. You were always going to fold when it’s him. Only him. 
“K–Kento.” you moan out, your voice breathless as you rock against his fingers, the sensation overwhelming in the best way. Each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you can't help but lose yourself in the rhythm he creates. “You’re… you’re… oh—”
His eyes darken with desire, and a sly smile creeps onto his lips. “That’s it, my love.” he replies, his voice low and filled with warmth.
He peppered soft kisses along your neck, each one igniting a fire inside you that burned brighter with every passing second. His fingers pushed deeper, faster, and you felt so incredibly full, the exquisite stretch making your head spin.
“Come. Come for me.” he urged, his words wrapping around you like a spell, both a command and an invitation. The way he held you against the wall, the heat radiating from his body, only heightened the electric connection between you.
Every kiss he placed on your skin felt like a promise, an affirmation of the bond you shared. No one else had ever made you feel this way; so cherished and desired. With him, you were always ready to surrender completely, to give in to the overwhelming pleasure that built within you. Nothing else can compare with what you feel for your husband. Nothing. 
You could feel the tension coiling tighter, your body responding instinctively to his every touch. He was so good at remembering where to touch you next. After being together for this long, Kento knew your body even better than you. He knows how to make you cry, how to make you moan. He knows everything.
“Kento.” you gasped, the sound a mix of pleasure and longing, and as his fingers curled just right, that coil finally snapped. Your body shuddered, a wave of bliss crashing over you, leaving you breathless as you surrendered to the moment, lost in the magic of him.
You looked up at him, and his gaze was intense, filled with a mix of satisfaction and hunger that sent a rush of warmth through you. Without a word, he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you with a fervor that reignited the fire within. 
His movements were slow at first, but as he pushed his fingers one by one, even deeper, your moans escaped you uncontrollably, pulling him closer as you urged him on, wanting nothing more than to feel every bit of him.
Somehow, you had been able to accommodate every tight, muscular finger in his hand. And you knew it felt good. He knew it felt good. Because he knew just what to do. No one else would. Only Kento would.
He responded with a low, pleased growl, the sound reverberating through his chest as his free hand tightened around your hip, holding you possessively against him.
There was an undeniable power in the way he claimed you, every inch of his touch a reminder of the connection you shared. You felt cherished and owned, completely his in this intimate moment.
Each thrust of his fingers sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you, each stroke deliberate and filled with purpose. Your body responded eagerly, arching into him as you surrendered fully to the sensations, every moan escaping your lips urging him on.
The world outside ceased to exist; there was only you, him, and the electric energy that wrapped around you both, binding you together in a rhythm that felt both primal and tender.
As the intensity of the moment deepened, you could feel the heat radiating from him, a tangible connection that anchored you both in a world of your own. His lips traveled down to your neck, trailing kisses that ignited your skin, leaving behind a trail of fire. You could feel the way he held you, his grip firm yet gentle, and it made you crave more, the need building inside you like a rising tide.
“Just like that, my love.” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and teasing. The sound of his voice sent a thrill through you, adding to the layers of pleasure that enveloped you.
He continued to move his fingers with a deliberate slowness, coaxing every last ounce of ecstasy from your body. Each time he pushed deeper, you gasped, the sensations pulling you closer to the edge once again.
Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you could merge your bodies into one. Drool started to form from your lips as he thrusted even deeper, pleasure repetitive in your lips to his ears. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed making a mess of you way too much. 
“K–kento. Oh my….g—oddddd…..” you breathed, the urgency in your voice echoing your desire. You needed him, all of him, and you wanted to feel that connection intensify. He looked into your eyes, and in that moment, you saw the depth of his love mirrored in his gaze, a promise that went beyond the physical.
He quickened his pace slightly, and you felt every pulse of his fingers inside you, each thrust igniting a new wave of pleasure. You could sense the hunger in him, a deep-seated need to feel you unravel beneath him.
“You’re perfect, aren't you?” he said, the words reverberating through you as you lost yourself in the moment. His possessiveness only heightened your arousal, each stroke of his fingers an affirmation that you belonged to him, and he to you.
With every thrust, every kiss, you felt the world around you blur, leaving only the two of you entwined in a dance of passion. Your bodies moved together as if they were made to fit, every touch syncing perfectly. You surrendered completely, letting the waves of pleasure wash over you, pulling you under and lifting you higher.
“Come for me again, my love.” he urged, his voice a low growl filled with desire. You could feel the pressure building once more, and with a desperate need, you clung to him, riding the waves of sensation that coursed through you. 
The world outside faded entirely as you focused on the way he made you feel—alive, cherished, and utterly consumed by the moment. And as you finally tipped over the edge into bliss, you knew that this was where you belonged, wrapped in his arms, lost in your shared passion.
As the world outside faded into a distant hum, you and Kento found yourselves enveloped in an intimate cocoon, where it was just the two of you. His gaze held yours, deep and searching, as if he were reading the unspoken words that danced between you. The air was thick with anticipation, and your heart raced in sync with the pulse of the moment.
With a gentle touch, he caressed your cheek, his fingers trailing down to your neck, igniting sparks of warmth beneath his fingertips. The softness of his touch contrasted with the burning desire that simmered between you, creating a perfect tension that left you breathless. You leaned into him, craving the connection that felt both familiar and exhilarating.
“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and filled with warmth, laced with a hint of playful teasing that made your stomach flutter. You nodded, feeling a rush of trust and excitement wash over you. You knew he would take care of you, just as he always did.
As he shifted closer, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and safety. When he entered you, it was as if time stood still. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and intimacy that made you gasp softly. You could feel every inch of him, filling you completely, as he took his time, letting you adjust to the fullness.
Kento's eyes never left yours, and in that moment, you felt utterly cherished. Each movement was deliberate, as if he were savoring the connection between your bodies and the bond you shared. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as you both surrendered to the rhythm of your bodies.
“You’re so beautiful, my love.” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, and you could feel the sincerity in his words.
Those simple words sent a wave of warmth through you, making you feel both desired and loved. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him even closer, as if you could merge your souls together.
He held you firmly, as though afraid to let go, fingers pressing into your skin with a hunger that left no doubt of his intentions. His hands slid from your waist to your thighs, gripping you with an intensity that was both grounding and electric, each touch sparking a heat that made you shiver.
The way he held you was raw and consuming, as though he wanted to memorize the feeling of you beneath his hands, every curve, every softness. He knew everything like the back of his hand/
You could feel his breath, warm and steady, against your skin, each kiss he placed making you arch closer, melting into the strength of his hold. The roughness of his grip, his possessive energy, pulled you deeper.
It was like he was marking you as his, his touch heavy with a passion that left you breathless. He looked into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense, a silent promise of everything he wanted to give, everything he wanted to take.
The world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, his warmth surrounding you, his presence overwhelming in the best possible way. Every inch of you felt alive under his touch, every nerve alight with a need that only he could satisfy.
His hands continued to explore, leaving trails of warmth, his touch demanding yet tender, as if reassuring you that he was there, and you were his.
The heat between you intensified, his hands roaming slowly, leaving a trail of tingling warmth wherever they went. You trembled, feeling the power behind every touch, every possessive whisper.
You could feel him drinking in the sight of you, holding you close as if he didn’t want to let go. It wasn’t rushed; it was filled with a focused, possessive affection that only made you crave him more.
Time blurred as his movements became a mix of gentleness and intensity. His hands slid lower, holding you firmly, possessively, as he whispered your name.
His words washed over you, filled with longing and satisfaction as he whispered, “You’re mine. Only mine.” Each soft murmur made your breath catch, his voice rough with devotion.
Your husband had always had a way of grounding you, pulling you back to him in the moments you needed it most. He held you with a quiet strength, his touches both comforting and electric, each caress more deliberate than the last.
When the busy schedules and late nights began to take their toll, you’d find yourself in his arms, feeling the tension melt away as he made you his world.
He was possessive in the gentlest way, his lips tracing along your skin, his voice murmuring low, tender words that anchored you to the present.
"Mine, mine." he'd say, over and over, his voice a husky whisper as he pressed deeper, slow and unhurried, savoring each moment. "My beautiful wife, my one and only."
You let yourself unravel under his touch, feeling each surge of pleasure as he pulled you closer, his mouth finding yours in heated kisses, his hands firm as they held you against him. The world outside faded, and there was only him—each movement, each shudder of pleasure woven with his love and need for you.
And as your body trembled, giving in to the pleasure he offered, he’d whisper words that sent warmth spiraling through you: His only. His good girl. His good little wife.
With every pulse and every breath, he made you his, claiming you in the way only he could, and you felt yourself give in, letting him take what he needed, knowing that he was yours just as deeply.
In these moments, he was entirely yours, just as you were his, both of you wrapped up in a world where only the two of you existed. And as he held you close, that familiar need he had for you was clear in his eyes, you could feel the depth of his love; the way he wanted you, needed you—all pouring out with each possessive word and touch.
Every thrust was slow and measured, each movement deliberate and filled with purpose, as if Kento were painting a masterpiece with your bodies.
He took his time, carefully crafting a rhythm that drew you both closer to the edge of ecstasy, like the steady buildup of a powerful wave ready to crash upon the shore. Each moment felt like an eternity, stretched and molded by his touch, igniting every nerve ending with heat and longing.
Kento relished in the way you responded to him, the way your body quivered beneath him, your breaths coming in soft gasps that filled the space between you.
He liked making you wait, savoring the way your eyes widened in need and your body writhed, pleading for more. The way you mewled over and over again, lost in the depths of desire, was music to his ears, a siren call that drove him further into the depths of his own hunger for you.
“Please, Kento. More. More—” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation, the need pooling in the pit of your stomach. Each word was a plea, a yearning that echoed in the silence of the room, punctuated only by the soft sounds of skin meeting skin.
“P–please….pleaseeeee…..”
A teasing smile played on his lips as he leaned down, his breath warm against your neck. He bit gently into your flesh, a sweet sting that sent shivers of pleasure coursing through you, causing you to moan, tears streaming down your face from the overwhelming sensations flooding your body. 
“Enjoy it, my love. Enjoy the slow burn.” he murmured, his voice low and husky, wrapping around you like a silken ribbon. “Let’s have fun, hm?”
His words were a command and a caress, urging you to embrace the intensity of the moment. The way he spoke your name, the way he held you, felt like a tether pulling you deeper into the shared experience. You were both caught in a delicate dance, a balance of power and surrender, where every pause and every gentle caress built anticipation.
The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you intertwined, lost in the growing tension between your bodies. Kento was in control, but you loved it. You loved the way he took his time, how each thrust felt like an exploration, a journey into the very essence of what it meant to be together.
He would withdraw slightly, teasing you with the promise of more, before plunging back into you with a slow, deliberate push that sent sparks of pleasure radiating from the core of your being.
Each pulse of his body against yours was a reminder of his possession, of the bond you shared that was both beautiful and intoxicating. The slow burn he created enveloped you, igniting your senses and drawing you closer to the precipice of your desires. You could feel the heat building within you, an insistent wave that throbbed and twisted, desperate for release.
“Just like that, my love.” he encouraged, his voice a soothing balm against the tumultuous storm of emotions swirling inside you. “Let it build. Let it consume you.”
You let his words command you, letting them wash over you as you melted into the sensations. Every tear that fell was a blessing of pleasure and the pain mingling together, a sweet agony that you welcomed wholeheartedly.
You could feel your heart racing, your breaths quickening, as you approached that sweet, familiar edge, caught between the bliss of the moment and the urgency of your need.
With every deep stroke, you felt a delicious tension building within you, a tightness that was both exhilarating and overwhelming. Each time he filled you completely, it ignited a spark of pleasure that resonated deep in your core, drawing soft gasps from your lips. Your husband was a great lover. Perhaps the best there ever was. 
You surrendered to him fully, giving yourself over to the sensations that enveloped you. The outside world faded away, leaving nothing but the two of you entwined in this intimate dance. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his breath mingled with yours, made every moment feel precious. 
You can only focus on him. Only him. He was what mattered. The way his eyes held yours, filled with an intensity that spoke volumes of his love and desire.
You could write as many beautiful works as you could ever want. But perhaps the most beautiful creation in your life was him. Loving Nanami Kento was your most beautiful creation.
In that moment, nothing else mattered but the way he made you feel. It was a combination of love and raw passion, an electric current that flowed between you, binding you together in a way that felt profoundly intimate.
Every caress of his hands, every whispered word, heightened your awareness of him, igniting your senses and making you acutely aware of the depth of your connection.
You could feel his warmth enveloping you, a comforting presence that made you feel safe yet desired. The way he moved, the way he took his time to explore every inch of you, filled you with an overwhelming sense of affection and longing.
With each thrust, you could feel your bodies communicating in a language all your own, a silent exchange that deepened the bond between you.
As you both lost yourselves in each other, the outside world faded into nothingness, leaving only the two of you entwined in a universe of your own making.
The air around you thickened with anticipation, and every touch felt electric, as if the very essence of your connection pulsed between you. As if you truly belonged together.
You could sense the tension coiling tighter, each movement a languid dance that drew you deeper into an exquisite rhythm, a beautiful synergy that melded your souls together and ignited a fire within you that felt utterly intoxicating.
“Kento, I’m coming. I’m so close.” you gasped, the words spilling from your lips as desire swirled through your veins.
He trailed kisses along your jaw, his lips soft yet insistent, igniting a cascade of shivers that traveled down your spine. “Come for me, baby. Let go.” he urged, his voice low and rich with promise, wrapping around you like a warm embrace.
That was when he shifted, his movements quickening, a sudden urgency that sent your heart racing. The delicious friction intensified, and with each thrust, the world outside vanished completely, leaving only the two of you in a haze of passion. 
Every kiss, every whisper, every pulse of his body against yours propelled you closer to that blissful edge, where pleasure and surrender intertwined, drawing you both into a beautiful climax that promised to sweep you away entirely.
As Kento quickened his pace, the urgency of his movements sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, building to a peak that felt both thrilling and inevitable.
The air around you crackled with electricity, every sensation heightened as he pressed deeper, claiming you in a way that made your heart race and your body ache for more. His breaths came in ragged gasps, mingling with the sound of skin against skin, each thrust driving you further into a euphoric haze.
“My love, I’m so close.” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I’m….I’m gonna come.”
You could see the raw need in his gaze, the way he was completely lost in the moment, just as you were. It was intoxicating to know that you had this effect on him, that you could pull him into this blissful space where nothing else mattered but the two of you.
“I want you, baby.” you whispered, your voice trembling with urgency as you felt that familiar coil tightening within you. “I need you.”
“D’ you want me inside, hm? Where do you want me?”
You moan, thinking about how hot it was. How hotter it would be to have him inside of you. “I-inside me. Please. Please. Make me full.”
“Y’d like that? You want me to make you full of me, my love?”
“Yes, yes, o–oh, yes—”
With a low growl, Kento shifted his focus, pushing into you with a deep, purposeful thrust that sent stars dancing behind your eyelids. The world outside was a distant memory, all that existed was the heat building between you, a fire that consumed you both whole.
His movements were rhythmic yet fervent, each push coaxing you closer to the edge, and you could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you. It felt so good. It felt way too good and you wanted it to last forever.
“Let go, my love.” he urged, his voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers coursing through your body. “I’m right there with you.”
And then, with a final, deep thrust, you felt him come inside you, warmth flooding you as he released with a low groan, his body pulsing against yours. The sensation was overwhelming—a rush of heat that spread through you, mingling with your own climax as pleasure washed over you in waves, leaving you breathless and trembling benea
th him.
You held on closer to him, taking in a new dawn’s breath.
You were so in love with this man, more than you know. 
And he was the same — he couldn’t get enough of loving you.
“You know, if I had known jealousy would make you like this…” you finally say, your voice still laced with breathlessness as you regain your composure.
The warmth of the moment lingers around you like a soft blanket, and you can feel the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through your body. Kento’s kisses trail along your glistening skin, each gentle press of his lips a sweet reminder of the connection you’ve just shared.
His lips are soft against you, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake, and the scent of your mingled skin fills the air with a heady sweetness that is all-consuming.
“I would get you jealous often, baby.” you tease, a playful smile curving your lips as you look down at him.
Kento pauses, lifting his gaze to meet yours, his expression a mixture of amusement and mock seriousness. “Is that so?” he replies, his voice a low rumble that sends a delightful shiver through you. 
The intensity in his eyes is unmistakable, a mix of possessiveness and affection that makes your heart flutter.You can’t help but laugh softly, the sound echoing around you in the intimate space you’ve created together.
“Absolutely. You should see how cute you get when you’re all riled up, baby.” you say, playfully nudging him with your shoulder. “Fiesty and all.”
His lips curve into a smirk, and he leans closer, brushing his nose against yours. “You’re lucky I’m not the type to stay jealous for long, my love.” he murmurs, the warmth of his breath tickling your face. “But if it means I get to have you like this…” 
His voice trails off, and he plants a series of soft kisses down your neck, each one sending delightful tingles racing across your skin. You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment to relish the sensations he stirs within you. 
“You’re incorrigible sometimes, Kento.” you whisper, feeling the weight of his affection enveloping you. The playful banter only adds to the intimacy, making it all the more special, as if you were sharing a secret joke that only the two of you understood.
“Only for you, my love.” he replies, his voice sincere as he pulls back just enough to gaze into your eyes. “But really, seeing you light up like that—it’s worth it. Just know I’ll always come back to claim what’s mine.”
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epilogue 
As the soft glow of the evening light filtered through the window, casting gentle shadows across the room, you and Kento found yourselves nestled comfortably together. You hadn’t left the bed much since this morning.
And your husband was incredibly happy about that. He wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. Everything about the room smelt like sex and sweat, that was to be expected. Your husband’s insatiable when he gets into it. 
But the atmosphere was relaxed and intimate, the air filled with the kind of warmth that comes from deep affection. Everything about the aftermath was the passion of lovers who will always be in love.
And you couldn't help but admit that you felt blessed with that. This passion between you and Kento, it will never die. For bitter, for worse, for good and better — you will always have this. You will always be together like this.
After a playful exchange repeating over and over again, you both took breaks in between. For a while, you both watched some television. Kento seems to enjoy Love Island, so he wants to watch the whole series with you now. A little while later, the two of you talked a little bit about the little things you’ve seen and done lately.
Soon enough, you were sure you were hungry. Kento immediately kissed you and went to the kitchen, coming back with some bowls of favorite snacks and some refreshing drinks, on ice.
But of course, he urged you to drink the water most. With all the screaming he’s made you do, he’s a little bit more worried about your voice, 
You both conversed about silly things now, laughing at how Yuji seems to be as silly as ever before. About how Gakuganji seems to continue to be annoyed by Gojo Satoru’s phone calls.
But then he talked about Gojo Satoru expecting another child on the way, albeit accidental. In that moment, you realized it was that moment. So, you took a moment to shift the conversation to that.
“You know, baby…..” you began, leaning your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. “I know you’re still busy, I’ve been thinking maybe….just maybe…”
“You know surprises aren’t needed.” He laughs, lowering his head to press a kiss to your cheek.
“I know, I know.” You roll your eyes playfully but let out a small smile, leaning against his chest. “Don’t you think it’s time we consider having kids soon. I’m really happy to make that happen soon.”
Kento turned to you, his brow raising in playful skepticism, but a smile tugged at his lips. “Is that so? You’re ready to dive into the chaos of parenting, my love? You know it’s a lot of work, right?” He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting, filling the space between you.
You couldn’t help but grin back, your heart fluttering at the prospect. “Of course! But I think it would be so worth it. Just imagine our little ones running around, making messes and keeping us on our toes.”
He smiles at you fondly. “You think so?”
“Yeah, I know so.” You grinned at him. “I can also see you being the doting dad, teaching them all about fighting and how to protect themselves. Or you know, just making some bread from home! I do miss authentic rye bread from an expert in Danish baked goods. Imagine how our kids will feel when they eat it too!”
He laughed, a rich, hearty sound that echoed in the room and made you feel light with joy. “You think so? I suppose you’re right, my love. I can already picture myself getting wrapped around their little fingers. They’d have me wrapped around their hearts in no time.” 
The sincerity in his tone made your heart swell with happiness.
Everything about your husband makes you feel happy everyday.
If life were to teach what happiness looks like, it would be him.
“Exactly!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over. “And they’d have your strength and my charm. Can you imagine how adorable they’d be?”
Kento’s expression softened, a gentle smile spreading across his face. “You know, I’ve always wanted that. A family with you. You make everything better.” His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, igniting a sense of hope and love within you.
“So, you’re on board with the idea?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with anticipation.
“Absolutely, my love.” he replied, that playful smirk returning to his face. “But first, I think we need to indulge in another round of this.” 
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, and captured your lips in a kiss that sent shivers down your spine. You melted against him, losing yourself in the moment, the kiss deepening as he pulled you closer.
It was intoxicating, filled with a mix of passion and love that made your heart race. Everything about Kento was just a pool you wanna drown in. Everything about him was worth drowning in. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped up in each other, a perfect blend of laughter, warmth, and desire.
When you finally pulled away, breathless, your cheeks flushed with warmth, Kento looked at you with that glint of mischief in his eyes that you adored.
“Okay, let’s talk about the details later, my love.” he said, grinning widely. “But for now, I think we have some important work to do to ensure that happens.”
With that, he pulled you back into another passionate kiss, laughter bubbling between you as you savored the moment. You felt the electric connection between you, the promise of a beautiful future hanging in the air, ripe with possibilities.
As you both continued to kiss, the playful banter resumed, filled with sweet nothings and playful teasing about the “practice” needed for the future family you envisioned. After all, practice makes perfect.
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twilightkitkat · 18 hours ago
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What makes this Logan the "Worst Wolverine"?
There are versions of him who are "worse" in different ways. Some of them failed not just to save the X-men, but to save the world. Some let down everyone around them more harshly than he ever did. Some were objectively less "good" than him. So what separates him from the rest?
One of the biggest factors is regret.
Regret is one of the most crucial parts of Logan's character. It's the whole reason he's called the "Worst" Wolverine to begin with. It's the cause of his depression, the big hurdle he needs to overcome, a primary motivator for him.
But all variations of Wolverine experience regret, so what makes Worst Wolverine in particular so special? Why is he called the "Worst" Wolverine when there are other variants who have "failed" the X-men? When there are other versions who aren't good people? When almost all of them are burdened by remorse?
I think, firstly, it's important to clarify the depth of Logan's regret. He isn't just regretting the X-men's deaths. He isn't just regretting his inability to prevent it. He isn't just regretting the way he reacted to their deaths, how he rampaged and let his anger funnel into destruction.
He isn't just mourning what he lost, he's mourning what he could've had.
Because in his world, he never really had the X-men. They existed and he occasionally worked alongside them, and clearly got close enough for them to want him to join, but he never belonged to them. He never took them on their offer. He never became a part of their team. He never wore that suit. He never accepted them as his family.
Before they died, he was on rocky terms with them. They cared, and they knew he cared to some extent, but that was it. Logan cared enough to show up but not to stay. He was so terrified of commitment and letting people in that he hid away from his troubles with alcohol.
They died without ever knowing that he really cared. They never had the chance to learn the depths of his feelings or yearning to be part of their family even if it scared him. They died with the memory of him as a closed-off, reclusive, alcoholic bastard.
And Logan has to live with that. Live with the knowledge that that's the last impression he left, the image that flashed before their eyes as he died.
Logan has lost the X-men in several universes. In the main movie timeline, in which he was regarded as a hero, he still lost them. There still was "more" he could've done to save them. He could've stopped Scott from his self-destructive spiral or gone with him. He could've reached Jean before she was too far gone and beyond saving. He lives with the regret of knowing he could've done more for them, that if he'd just acted a little differently they might still be there.
But at least he had them. At least, while they were alive, he was honest about his feelings. Even Scott knew he cared, in a fucked-up way. Logan had joined the X-men and saved Scott in return and even tried to hold impromptu interventions after Jean's death. In hindsight, Logan could've done more, but in the moment he acted the best he could with the knowledge he was given.
But Worst Wolverine didn't even do that. He didn't fail them while he was doing the best he could over a blind spot. He failed them because he deliberately chose not to try. He chose not to get closer. He chose not to do more, knowing full well that they wanted him to be more involved. He chose a path of willful ignorance and denial and never had the chance to confront his feelings. Not until he was hit with them full force as he realized the magnitude of what he'd lost.
He never took the chance to get to know them. To become Scott's rival-friend or Jean's almost-lover. He never became a paternal figure to Rogue, never became a confidant to Storm. He can't look back on the "good times" because he didn't have any. He prevented them from happening.
He has no memories to comfort himself with. He has no past to cling to. He can't claim to have lost his family because it never existed. He has to confront the weight of his feelings and the fact that they never were realized all at once. He has to reconcile with how he never took the chance while they were alive, and now it's gone. He has to live with the knowledge that he could've had what he wanted, even for a little bit, if he wasn't such a pathetic fucking coward. That it would be better to at least have something other than the weight of the what-ifs and could-have-beens.
(He has to live with the fact that they never knew. They never knew he cared. He never told them. He could've at least given them a crumb of affection, any hint that he cared. They died thinking he'd move on without a second thought.)
One of Logan's "key" character traits is that he isn't afraid to take what he wants. That he's single-minded and purpose-driven. That he's open about his emotions and pursues his goals by throwing himself into them wholeheartedly.
Succeeding at this is what makes a "good" Wolverine. It isn't necessarily about morality or even power, it's about the ability to chase what he wants and obtain it.
This is what makes our Logan the "worst" Wolverine. He knew what he wanted but never pursued it. He gave up before he even started, distancing himself from the X-men so that they couldn't hurt him.
Wolverine is meant to represent a man who never gives up. Who pushes through pain and hardship with unsheathed claws and gnashing teeth. Who refuses to lose. He's meant to be the image of perseverance: someone who throws aside regard for his own well-being to protect those he cares about and achieve his goals. He's always been scared, terrified even, but he doesn't let that stop him. He rises up to that fear and spits in its face.
He was supposed to be a symbol of bravery. Of courage. Of being true to yourself and fighting for what you believe in even if it's hard. Of being gruff and sometimes mean but painfully honest and willing to do what's needed for the sake of his team and the world.
But "Worst" Wolverine isn't like that. He let his fear control him. He acted the opposite of what made Wolverine special. He isn't the worst because he's evil, or even because of the deaths he's caused. Some versions were more morally grey and mean and fucked up.
He's the worst because he didn't have the strength to keep going. Because he gave up too soon and it cost him a family he never really had. Because he didn't go down with a fight, he just laid down on the ground in a puddle of alcohol and let it swallow him whole.
He's the worst because he went against everything he stood for. He never pushed, never tried, never suffered for the sake of what he believed in. He just suffered without purpose. Sometimes on purpose. He had no reason for living, nothing to belong to, and nothing to strive for.
This is why he was considered the "Worst" Wolverine.
And this is why, at the climax of the movie, Wade called him the "Best" Wolverine.
Because Logan was no longer aimlessly floating without a purpose. He stopped running away from his problems and feelings. He looked Cassandra dead in the eye as she offered him the "easy way out" that he'd always taken before and refused it. He laughed as Wade captured her even if it took away his only chance to silence the voices in his head because he no longer wanted that.
He didn't want to keep living in the past, he wanted to finally fucking fight for something. For his future. (He wanted to finally fight not just because he had no other option. Not just needless violence. Not just because he didn't know anything else. But because he had a purpose. Something that he wanted and that he'd try to pursue.
He finally found a purpose. Something to believe in. Something he'd fight for. Live for. Die for. So when he finally was willing to sacrifice himself, even if he didn't, he achieved the crux of what "Wolverine" is meant to be. Someone willing to do and endure anything to protect what he cares about. Someone willing to do the impossible to reach his goal. Someone willing to die for his family.
Wade helped him become the "Best" Wolverine because he gave him what he'd always been looking for: a home.
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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 8 hours ago
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Jade Leech: J is for...
J word—
Twst devs: How can we fuck’m up real good
Intern-kun: J word bird’s eye view cleavage shot
xhjsvwiwkw Jokes aside! I love how much care he takes in maintaining his appearance, right down to ironing in the morning and purposefully styling the black strand into the “J” shape 😂 Whatever it takes to look like a gentleman, right… And he’s meticulous about his SPF just like me, frfr🧴💕
Rise and Shine!
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Jade’s hands, you decided, were made for delicate efforts.
You had watched those hands a number of times, performing like skilled trapeze artists in a circus. Serving food and drink at the Mostro Lounge, rinsing the grime off of foraged mushrooms, drawing decisive graphite strokes upon a page. The terrariums sitting upon his shelf were the result of his handiwork—minuscule biomes, carefully constructed with a magnifying glass and tweezers.
Now he handled his hair with the same deadly precision. Fingers on the end of his singular black strand to keep it in place, he ran a hair straightener along the length. When the tool pulled away, the strand bounced back into a slight curl.
A perfect J to hug his handsome face. J for Jade, as he often said.
You had observed the times when a J hadn’t been the result. Too little, and the strand was an I. Too much, and the strand rebelled into a S.
“You’re so detail-oriented,” you commented from your place by the doorframe.
The response, a quiet, almost musical, chuckle. It seemed to echo off the cavernous walls of the Octavinelle washroom, bathed by sunlight-infused waters.
“It is important to maintain one’s appearance.”
“To make a good first impression?”
You knew why.
To lure his victims into a false sense of security. A neat suit, a disarming smile, and anyone would be willing to part with the treasures Jade fished for. Information, valuable information.
“That is part of it.” He didn’t look directly at you, but instead met your eyes in the reflection of his vanity mirror. “One can also glean a great amount of information from observing how another presents themselves. For example…
“You must have had a small baked good for breakfast on your way to Octavinelle this morning. A muffin, a croissant—something of that sort, yes.”
“H-How did you…?!”
His eyes trailed to your necktie, done up just the way you liked it. “… There are crumbs there.“
Your hands flew to your chest, hurriedly dusting yourself off. Jade’s small, pointed teeth showed from behind his mouth.
Amused.
“When I first came to land, I thought it strange that humans dressed differently depending on the occasion. You dress formally for strangers—work, interviews—but dress casually for your loved ones—friends, family. But I see now… It sends a message to the world about who you are and what your place in it in that moment in time is.
“Our school uniforms signify that we are students. Pajamas mean that someone is about ready to sleep or to prepare themselves for the day. A tidy appearance implies a tidy mind, and a slovenly appearance, a slovenly one.”
“Your mind scares me sometimes,” you joked. “I feel like it’s full of sharp things that could kill me”.
“Oya, is that because you are complimenting how sharp my attire is?” Jade pinched the lapels of his pajama top. “… Though I’m afraid this can hardly be called sharp.”
"You will be once you've changed." You glanced away, indicating that he should.
“Very well. Then, please excuse me."
There was the ruffle of satin coming off, the flap of fabric as it was folded and tucked away. More rustling as a new set of clothes fell over his body. The same old vest, blazer, and slacks.
"... You may look," he called softly.
You did.
And there he was, Jade Leech in his school uniform. It was perfectly tailored to fit him, dyed a simple and sleek black. His earring was in place as well, three diamond-shaped scales dangling from his left side.
A regular sight, yet it made your heart sigh all the same.
"Clothes really do make the man," you murmured, a finger at your lip.
"Fufufu. I will happily accept your praise." Jade drew himself beside you. His shadow stretched, a suit in of itself folding over you. An open hand, held out. "Shall we be on our way?"
"Yes, let’s.” You shyly slipped your hand into his, and it fit like a glove.
The black strand—coiled into a J—leapt with your shared first step.
Too little or too much. His words, running both hot and cold. But this felt…
You searched for a J word, like the shape of that stripe.
J for… Just right.
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brainddeadd · 23 hours ago
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we haven’t talked much about baby devils family besides her mom… so maybe she’s an only child also why she’s love the boys so much because she has never had siblings and what if she lost her dad a few years ago to cancer and it’s not something she really talks about only person on the devils that knows is luke so maybe when it was the cancer game it was really important to her and everyone found out about her dad
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The Cancer Game
warnings: parental death
ok so.. my dad died and this is how i'd want my friends to react and how some of them did react..
if you've lost someone close to you, i am so sorry for your loss
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The New Jersey Devils locker room was filled with the usual celebration buzz. They’d just pulled off a big win, and everyone was riding high on the thrill of it, the energy bouncing off the walls as teammates shouted and laughed. Normally, Y/N would have been in the thick of it, cracking jokes and soaking up the post-game excitement with her team. But tonight, she’d been different. She’d put on a brave face, even cheered a little in the locker room, but her heart wasn’t in it. Only Luke noticed the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, the way she slipped out of the room as soon as she could without saying a word to anyone.
He’d seen her like this before, knew the kind of weight that could press down on her after certain games. The annual Cancer Awareness game, something that meant so much to the Devils organization and their fans, had an especially painful significance for her. A few years back, her dad had passed away after a long battle with cancer. It wasn’t something she talked about; she kept her emotions tucked away and rarely let them out, but this game always hit her hard. Luke was the only one who knew, and though she never said anything, he’d learned to recognize the signs.
The other guys hadn’t quite pieced it together yet, but they were noticing the change in her. Jack frowned as he watched her leave. “Did you guys see Y/N? She just left so quickly. I don’t think she even said goodbye.”
“Yeah, and she was barely talking all night,” Nico added, crossing his arms with a worried look. “She seemed…off. You think something’s wrong?”
Dawson, still buzzing from the win, looked back toward the door, his excitement dimming. “She didn’t even celebrate like usual. You think we should check on her?”
Luke glanced at them, a little torn. Y/N was private, and he didn’t want to betray her trust, but he also didn’t want her to be alone with this. With a slight nod, he said, “Yeah. I think we should.” He didn’t offer an explanation yet, but his face was serious, and the others picked up on it right away.
The group left together, the energy in the car shifting to something quieter and more solemn as they drove to Y/N’s place. They entered her apartment, hoping she’d be alright, but the scene they found tugged at their hearts.
Y/N was curled up on her couch, her face hidden in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Luke stepped forward first, his heart heavy as he saw his friend so vulnerable. He gently placed a hand on her shoulder before sitting next to her, pulling her into his side. She leaned into him, not saying anything, but letting him be there.
The others stood back, exchanging looks of uncertainty and sadness. They hadn’t seen her like this before and didn’t want to intrude, but they also couldn’t bear the idea of leaving her alone.
After a quiet moment, Jack finally spoke up. “Is…is she okay? What’s going on?” he asked softly, his voice filled with worry.
Luke took a breath, deciding to share what he knew in the hopes that they’d understand. “Her dad…he passed away from cancer a few years back. This game…this night…it’s a lot for her to handle. It brings back memories.”
There was a stunned silence as the reality of her pain sank in. Dawson looked down, feeling a pang of guilt for not realizing sooner. Nico’s expression softened, his eyes full of empathy as he took a step closer to her.
Jack’s face fell. He crouched down beside her, reaching out to place a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. You should’ve said something. You don’t have to go through this by yourself.”
Nico nodded, his voice gentle. “We’re family, Y/N. Whatever you need, we’re here. Always.” His words were soft, filled with the warmth of someone who understood what it meant to be part of a team that cared deeply for each other beyond just hockey.
Dawson gave her a supportive smile, his voice as warm as he could make it. “Yeah, we’re here for you. If you ever need to talk or even just want someone around to keep you company, don’t hesitate. We’ve got your back.”
Y/N looked up through red, tear-streaked eyes, managing a small, appreciative smile as she took in the scene. There they were—her teammates, her friends, her family—standing around her with faces full of concern and love. She hadn’t planned to let them see her like this, hadn’t planned to share the part of herself that was still so raw and aching. But here they were, offering her every bit of their support, not backing away from her sadness.
Luke’s arm tightened around her shoulders as he whispered, “You’re not alone. I’m here. We’re all here.”
Y/N felt her heart swell as Jack, Nico, and Dawson each moved closer, surrounding her with a warmth and presence that filled the room. They didn’t try to fix her pain or rush her through it; they simply sat with her, letting her know that she didn’t have to bear this alone. The weight of her grief felt a little lighter with them there, their quiet strength helping to carry her forward, reminding her that no matter how heavy the burden, she would never have to shoulder it by herself again.
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tmwcs · 2 days ago
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PART ONE
Warnings: Nothing unusual to report…not yet. Just references from the last two fairy tales posted in Masterlist. This includes the teaser posted two days ago. If you’ve read the teaser, skip through until you see the red text. That’s where the additional part of the story continues.
“Young girl in the local area is the second to disappear without a trace. Authorities are on high alert and encourage all women to remain at home and avoid traveling alone.”
You click on the abrupt notification–the article details the two young women who vanished within the last six months. The first girl disappeared while traveling and visiting her grandmother’s house and another was on her way to a job interview at the local library, but never made it. The strange occurrences had everyone panicking and adhering to the extreme measures to avoid their daughters from being the next to abruptly disappear.
“Y/N, take the car and drop your sister off at her friend’s house.” your mother urges. Your younger sister was around the same age as the young girls who had disappeared, so it became understandable why her safety was paramount. Of course you weren’t excluded from concern, however, being that you were older and already on your way to finishing up your college education, it’s presumed that you were in the clear. At least that’s what the authorities stated in their public announcements.
“Take her, make sure you watch her enter the house before you drive off. Then come right back here, understand?” your mother’s strict orders were firm and left no room for argument. “Fine.” you answered quietly. Running errands and dropping off your younger sibling always came with the same warnings and specific instructions–nothing out of the ordinary.
The drive wasn’t terribly far–around twenty minutes. Sometimes you wonder why your family decided to reside in the suburbs–so far from the city. Wouldn’t it have been better had they considered moving closer? Considering that both your parents place of employment and your younger sister’s school, it would be so much more convenient had they found a neighborhood much closer.
“I feel so sorry for that girl–you know?”
Her voice interrupts your thoughts as you delicately come to a stop at the red light. “Are you talking about the one that just disappeared?”
“Yeah. She was so pretty too, just like the first one.” her voice was soft and tender, and just like those girls, your precious younger sibling couldn’t be excluded from the list of potential victims. No wonder your parents were always so concerned over her staying late for after school activities. With her traditional beauty and delicate frame, she was every kidnapper's dream.
Pulling up the driveway, you followed your mother’s instructions as ordered. Checking your phone, you send a text out to notify your parents that you both made it at the sleepover, when your sister's phone screen abruptly is placed in front of you, followed by a small giggle.
“What is that?” you sharply questioned, a slight annoyance accompanies your tone. “Isn’t it cute? I took it earlier today.”
Being the prankster that she was, it was no surprise that you became a pawn in your sister’s line of mischievous acts. “So uncool. Erase that.”
“Oh come on! I took it because you looked so pretty. You know, everyone always says the same thing–even in high school. Remember all those times you napped during the lunch hour? Everyone always said that you looked so pretty whenever you slept. Guess that’s why they always called you that name, huh?”
You let out a tiring sigh. “Yeah, I guess so.” it was true–the nickname stuck with you even all through college when your friends carried the name over. They would always ask you in jest why you slept so often, and you wish you had an answer for them, but you never could come up with one. You don't know why–all your life you just felt so tired. Your pondering thoughts are interrupted once more when you hear your sister thanking you for the ride.
“Alright, Sleeping Beauty! Thanks for dropping me off! Love you!”
………
The twenty minute drive back seemed much longer than before. Perhaps you’re just tired—all the assignments and study sessions were probably getting to you. You pull up and notice the other car gone. Did your parents go out?
You walk in and took the precautionary measures to lock the door behind. A small note is left propped on the dinner table, addressed to you:
‘Y/N, dinner is in the oven. Your dad and I went out to see some old friends—we will be back later. Love, mom.’
Well, there are worse things than to have an entire house all to yourself. The peaceful and quiet atmosphere was a pleasant contrast from the cyclic ruckus you grew to block out. For once, it was nice to not walk around with headphones and enjoy the stale sound of silence. Yet, it would appear you spoke too soon—your phone rings. Noticing the number, you answer half heartedly “hey girl.”
Your best friend answers with a myriad of giggles and knavery tone. “Guess what?”
“What?”
“We have a few transfer students that came in and all of them are going to be at Jess’s party tonight. You coming?”
You sigh. “No, don’t think I will. I’m tired.”
“You’re always tired!” Your best friend berates in disappointment. “Come on! At least look at the photo I just sent! They’re gorgeous!”
You spare a half glance at the photo and saw a group of young men posing for a photo. “I can’t—I still have to finish some things and I really am so tired.”
“Fine! You’re no fun but I still love you.” She giggles as she bids you goodbye. The last bit of her words replayed in echoes as you eeee taken back to a time in high school where she said the very same thing before…
‘…You’re no fun, but I still love you.’
You’re quite certain your friend recalls the events that occurred afterwards, when she left you at the theater after you denied her invitation to skip out on class and to attend a social gathering. You had rejected her offer and remained in the projection room to nap for an hour before your next class began. That was when you had the strangest dream. Remnants of that moment came back like pieces of a puzzle when you recalled that time —the dream was vivid and felt so real. A figure walking up and presenting a beautiful red rose—doing so delicately as to not wake you. It was as if you err watching a grainy film as you witnessed the happenings—from him laying the flower in your hand, stroking your hair, and kissing your forehead. The strangest bit was when you awoke for your next class, a rose was within your grasp. Yet, the projection room remained locked from the inside, leaving no margin for entry to anyone from the outside. Yet, still…no matter how many times you brushed it off, each moment you come back to that memory it just made you feel like something…something was—
*ring ring*
Your phone rings and you view the screen. You didn’t recognize the number so you ignored the call. The caller didn’t leave a voice message either, probably a scam call. You’ve been getting a lot of them lately.
Other than the two phone calls, your night was rather peaceful. You ate a light dinner and figured it would be best to start your reading materials before it gets too late. Washing the dishes, you scrubbed your plate in soapy water. The surface read covered by foamy bubbles, leaving the bottom elusive. A sharp prick stings the tip of your index finger, causing you to quickly retract your hand from the depths of the warm water. “What the hell?!”
You run the faucet on and rinse the wound under the fluid motion of the lukewarm stream and notice a single red dot. You drained the sink and didn’t notice any broken glass or dishes—what did you poke your finger on?
As the last remnants of soap and bubble spiral down the drain, your eyes caught on to something foreign from the steel background. Was that a…
“…a thorn?”
Your mind was boggled by the existence of a single rose thorn inside the sink. Strange. You held the thorn in hand and studied it for a second before your phone rang once more. It was your mother.
“Hello?”
“Y/N, I’m just checking in. Did you eat?”
“Yeah.”
You remain somewhat calm as you ponder about the thorn while hearing your mother rant about locking all the doors and windows. “Yeah, got it. Hey mom—“
You quickly catch her before she starts to say her goodbye. “Did you get roses or something?”
“Oh yes—for our friends. I went to the store and grabbed a small bouquet, why?”
You rolled your eyes out of relief and suddenly found the entire situation comical. “Nothing. I just saw a rose thorn in the sink.”
“Oh yes, I had rinsed them in the sink and put them in a vase. Be Careful when washing dishes.”
“Yeeeeah.” Your tone was sarcastic but she didn’t seem to catch on. Instead, she bid you farewell and you both hang up.
Placing the phone down, you felt a wave of fatigue hit you abruptly. Normally you felt tired and lethargic, but never have you felt extremely exhausted so suddenly. Your eyesight became dizzy—your body starts to feel weak. “What the hell…is…”
You couldn’t understand where this sudden sensation of fatigue came from. It’s as overwhelming and nearly took over your entire body—to the point where you found it hard to stand. It was as if you were punched by the sandman. You stumble your way up the stairs—leaning against the bannister on your way up.
Tired…so tired…too tired.
Marching up, you finally reached your bedroom and plopped yourself atop your bed. The mixture of cool and warm temperatures overwhelm you as the texture of the linen absorbs your body heat—the cotton fabric comforting you. Drifting off, you only lasted seconds upon laying down when everything suddenly goes to black.
So sleepy…
Taglist: @strxwbloody • @nshmrarki • @aquariushiiiii • @addictedtohobi • @nuriicata • @lilyuwon • @aanniikkaa •
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skzfairyyydreamz · 1 day ago
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Replaced? (Part 6)
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Genre: Skz Smau, Text posts, Skz!Fic, Non!idolAu, Angst, Crack/humor, Mini series
Pairing: Bsf!skz, Fem!Reader, Bf!Felix, Stoner!Skz, Stoner!Reader
Warnings: !!Slow Build!! , Strong language (ofc!!) , Mentions of SA, Mentions of Alcohol, Mentions of smoking, Mentions of cheating, Mentions of fighting, Suggestive humor !!MDNI!!
Synopsis: Some people say friendship breakups hurt more than actually relationships .. and now y/n sees for herself why some friend groups are best kept separate
A/n: and we're back with another chapter of REPLACED? this chapter is definitely giving reality tv type MESSY and i LOVE it bc this is where the real angst starts to kick in. I know this fic was originally meant to be a text post series but i decided to add written parts as well to enhance the details! Chapter 6 is for sure a THICK and JUCIY one so buckle your seatbelts! Thank you all for sticking around and enjoying these silly little stories with me! hugs and kisses! MWAH!! 💋 xoxox <3 <3 <3 <3
© Skzfairyyydreamz - Plagiarism is a crime. Do not repost, alter, translate or copy without my consent.
<<<Previous | Next >>> Screenshot count: 26 Word count: 3.9k
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“Omg TYSM! can you guys just grab these and bring them up I have to piss like a fucking race horse!” 
“Yea yea go ahead we got it! ” Chris waved you off as you hoped out the cab doing your little pee pee dance.
Minho couldn’t help but to point and chuckle as he mocked the way you hoped from side to side like a little toddler who couldn’t hold their bladder. 
without any thought you quickly flicked him off almost like it was a reflex before you took off running up to your apartment building with the speed of light. “The doors open!” Changbin shouted behind you 
You didn’t even realize how quiet it was in your apartment until you came out of the bathroom. walking back towards the living room to check on everything…
“Oh hey there!” you heard from behind you in the far left corner of the room. “Ughhh ofc its him… obviously … just keep your Distance fuck boy” you think to yourself as you mentally roll your eyes before turning around To see Alex holding some plugs in in his hand. 
“Alex, hey!” You force a smile trying not to seem awkward (but failing miserably) “you all good, you got everything you need?” 
“Yeah yeah all good just finishing my set up now” he responded from behind the table with all his equipment as he plugged his last cord into his laptop. 
“Cool cool cool, perfect timing guests are about to start arriving any second.” 
“ nice .. you know I had no idea you were so close with the whole gang from work .. Chris, changbin, minho , jeongin.. you guys get along pretty well I assume.” 
“Oh Yeah we’ve all been super close for years! We’ve been friends Way before we even started working the club actually.” 
“wow.. for a long while huh? Would’ve never known” 
“Yeah.. that’s family ” you say with a soft smile of adoration “where is jeongin btw ? Is he in the back?” You turned on your heels heading towards your bedroom to quickly and smoothly escape this conversation you no longer wanted to be a part of. 
“No, he and his girlfriend went out to get more ice!” He yelled out before you could get far quickly dismissing your escape route “fuck!!” You thought to yourself. “Oh okay .. water?” You offered him as a distraction turning to walk towards the kitchen wanting to be as far away from him as possible. 
“Yeah sure” there was a few seconds of silence .. then he spoke again. “Listen ..thanks for booking me for this gig, I’ve only really been working the club the past few months so I appreciate you considering me.” He spoke out loud enough for you to hear him from the kitchen. 
“Oh it’s no problem, you do a pretty good set at work and everybody loves good music so why not?!” You force a chuckle trying to seem polite as you emerged from the kitchen walking over to hand him a bottle of water. 
And as if the way you felt his eyes shamelessly roaming your body wasn’t enough to make you want to die in that moment, it was like the energy in the room got more and more dense every time he opened his stupid mouth. 
You extend your arm out to give him the bottle of water and ofc instead of being a  normal person he grazes his warm clammy fingers across your hand before taking the water bottle from you “thanks” he says “ AHHHH EW EW EW I HATE MEN I HATE MENNNN WHY WOULD HE FUCKING DO THAT EW WHY CANT HE FUCKING BE NORMAL WTF??!” The inner voice in your head was crumbling with the ick. 
“Your outfit looks amazing btw ” he added make this moment even worse! at this point You genuinely would rather leap head first off your 7th floor balcony than stay in a room alone with him any longer. “DUDE WTF IS TAKING THE GUYS SO LONG OMFG !! GET ME OUT OF HERE!! ” your inner voice still raging with panic. He then grabs your hand and pulls you into a hug. “ ha thanks” you reply to his yucky compliment forcing yet another painful smile. “And you smell so good” he inhaled your scent (like the creep he is) almost whispering in you ear. He had a very strong grip and everything was happening so fast you barely had a chance to pull away or react.
his hand kept creeping around your lower back as he tried to pull your body closer into him. His hand then landing just on top of your ass as he full on groped you with no shame. And what made it even worse was that you were wearing a mini skirt. 
“Ew bitch wtf are doing!!?” You pushed him hard enough for him, a man twice your size and height to stumble backwards almost falling into his DJ equipment. Your fight or flight senses kicked in real fast. (Thank god)
“Wdym princess.. I thought you were feeling me?” he replied with a sly grin on his face like what he had just did was okay or some kind of funny joke. You were livid at this point. 
And without a thought or a second guess your hand came crashing down making contact with his face. The slap was so hard the sound echoed through the quiet living room. “You think this shit is fucking funny!? You’re about to be in a house with all my MALE best friends and my BOYFRIEND… you think it’s going to end well for you if I tell them you just sexually assaulted me??!” 
“Idk what you’re talking about pretty girl, I didn’t do anything” he let out a small malicious almost inaudible chuckle holding his face where you slapped him. You continued to look at him with pure rage and disgust. 
“ you’re fucking disgusting.” you turned away attempting to storm off but before you could even walk away..
“Cmon princess don’t be like that” 
“Shut tf up and do the job you were paid to do before I kick you out of my fucking house Alex! "
“Well yeah , you could kick me out but … what’s a party without music ?? And I mean .. you already paid me in advance so really it would just be a loose loose situation for you, no? ” he chuckled lightly as he mocked you with that menacing grin still lingering on his face. 
“Do the job you were paid for and Stop fucking talking to me before my boyfriend blacks your other eye!” 
“Boyfriend ?? do I know him??” He laughed out loud this time yet still holding his face where you slapped him. He was putting on such an unbothered douche bag persona but you could tell his face was definitely ringing.
“Use that tiny fucking brain of yours and figure it out” 
“ I know another way you could put all that feisty energy to good use”
“ oh bitch you’re playing with fire .. ” that stupid grin never once leaving his face had gotten under your skin so badly you just had to one up him.  “you’re disgusting you fucking pig!” You glared at him before fixing your mouth to spit in his face before Finally storming off away from him and into the kitchen.
Just as you turned your back to walk away Changbin and Minho walk through the door. 
“Sorry we took so long there was traffic on the elevators. Chris should be coming in right behind us” changbin said as they both walked to the island counter to set the cakes down. being as close as you were they both immediately knew something had happened. And they were definitely gonna find out what was wrong. 
The tension in the room was so thick it could be sliced with a knife. Minho and bin Just shared a suspicious and concerned look communicating with each other without ever having to speak a word. Carefully watching over you as you grabbed a shot glass from the cabinet and slammed it close. 
“ you okay squirt? ” Minho said watching you crack open a bottle of vodka as anger clearly oozed off of you. 
“Mhmm… you wanna drink? ” you try to deflect but your clenched jaw and very noticeable heavy breathing gave it away. You were not okay. In fact you were fuming.
Neither of them answered you, they just continued to read the room intuitively trying to figure out what had just went down in the spare of 10 minutes. You threw your first shot of the night back with urgency . Finally making eye contact with changbin. “ what happened??” He silently mouthed to you so Alex who was sitting across the room wouldn’t hear it. You shook your head trying to indicate “nothing” but the eye contact you held with him said something entirely different. After what happened , two of your very protective best friends being present with you brought you some comfort and You were finally able to slow down your breathing. 
You let out a loud sigh before removing yourself from the kitchen and walking towards the balcony "I need some fresh air” 
Minho, being the quiet observant one he continued to read the room until he saw it and let out an involuntary gasp. 
Changbin immediately snapping his head in his direction with furrowed eyebrows “WHAT!?” He silently mouthed once again. Minho just quickly pulled out his phone and started typing a text message and bin immediately understood also pulling out his phone…
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“ sorry for the wait I’m back! And look who I founddddd” Chris’s voice come through the door 
“Familyyyyyy” Rachel poked her head through the door 
“Hey y’all heyyyy!! ” Olivia walked in behind her with jeongin and Sophie following, both of them holding bags of ice. 
"Heyyy!!" Changbin jumped up holding out both his arms inviting Felix’s sisters in for a hug
“No waaaaayyy!! Lix is going to be so happy to see you guys!!” Minho added
“Where is she??” Rachel asked after greating them both 
“Yeah where’s my sissy pie??” Olivia added 
“She’s out on the balcony getting some air” Minho pointed them into your direction 
The room was silent until the balcony door could be heard opening “watch this!” Chris grabbed everyone’s attention and then put a hand up to his ear just as you let out an extremely loud screech of excitement “AHHHHH STFUUUU UR JOKING??? YOU GUYS ACTUALLY MADE IT?!!!! ” and everyone burst into laughter.
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Before you knew it your house was filled with all your friends and mutuals of your friend group everyone was chatting and catching up with each other in the mean time until the birthday boys arrived. Chris found you in the kitchen pouring yourself another drink. “Y/n you did such a good job! Look everyone is already enjoying themselves! ”
“Yeah we seemed to pull it off perfectly huh?” 
 “Is something wrong?? Whats the long face kiddo??” 
“It’s nothing ”
“ You know you can’t lie to me y/n ” he replied standing up straight from where he was leaning against the counter across from you and slowly pulled you into a warm hug. “What’s the matter hmm?” He added as he rubbed your back. 
“Idk I just feel stupid .. and violated, it’s whatever I’ll feel better when Lix gets here”
“violated!? Y/n did somebody here do something to you bc I’ll handle that shit” he responded quickly pulling back to look you in the eyes making sure that you understood he was serious. “No no Chris it’s okay I’m keeping it chill for the sake of the party we can talk about it later” 
“Y/N … what. Happened.” He said more sternly in his fatherly tone.
“Tell me. I’ll handle it right now.” 
“Chris not now.. please?” You looked up at him with pleading almost teary eyes “ we’ll talk, I promise” there was a moment of silence between you two as you waited for him to trust you and agree to the promise you were making him. You and Chris had a special type of friendship and you understood each other well.
“… I promise.” You repeated as he wiped away the single tear sliding down your face. He didn’t verbally say anything he just nodded and pulled you back into a tight hug. You squeezed him back glancing over his shoulder almost physically cringing at the sight of Alex still eyeing you from across the room. You just tucked your head into his chest trying your best to relax in your best friends arms almost like a baby hiding from a Scary monster
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“ OKAY OKAY EVERYONE PLACES!! PLACESSS!!! THE BOYS ARE ON THEIR WAY UP!” 
“ I ’ll get the lights!! ” Minho jumped up to turn all the lights out as everyone started to scramble to their feet making sure to hide behind something or someone. 
The apartment was so quiet you heard exactly when the boys stepped off the the elevator loud laughter surrounding them as always. 
“Ouu I hear them!” Olivia said 
“Omg they’re cominggg shhh shhhh ” you whisper shouted with anticipation. 
“Go in, Y/n said the door is open” you heard Hyunjins voice as they neared the apartment door. 
“K, cool” Jisung spoke before turning the door Knob and pushing the door open … 
“SURPRISE!!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!” 
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The party had slowly begun to come to and end.  Some guests starting to grab their jackets and head out while others were still mingling and some even passed out drunk in various areas of the house. “Chris we’ll be right back we’re just gonna walk Liv and Rach down stairs!” 
 “Yeah yeah no problem ” he responded while giving both you and Lix the “help me” side eye. Jeongin had been passed out drunk for the passed 2 hour and Sophie.. in her natural weird bitch fashion, has been following Chris around ever since.  “We’ll be super fast” you whispered to him while speeding out the door. 
“Y/n We had such a good time sissy pie!” Olivia said “we really did!” Rachel added. 
“Yay! I’m so happy you were able to make it it’s been so long since we seen you guys !” 
“ my head is still spinning , no way you actually got my sisters to fly out here from Australia just to surprise me for my birthday! ” Lix shook his head at you in disbelief but his big brown eyes were filled with love and admiration. “ anything for my little nugget!” Rachel interrupted hugging her younger brother.
“yeah we missed you heaps, Lix” Olivia added grabbing them both into a group hug. You just watched with a huge smile on your face quickly grabbing your phone to snap a picture of the precious moment without them even realizing.
“You deserve to be celebrated and surrounded by love hun.. especially for your birthday.” He then walked over pulling you into a tight squeeze “ and you .. my love, deserve to get your back blown out” he whispered in your ear so his sisters wouldn’t hear. You looked up at him with a giggle “is that a promise, pretty boy?”
“ it could be” he smirked back “ well, actually it can’t be bc there is a black out drunk jeongin upstairs in my bed right now”
“He can watch” Felix grinned playful raising his eyebrows up and down. “Ew Lix, behave!” You hit his shoulder as You both laughed out loud. 
“Our hotel is only about 20 minutes from here, so we can just walk” Rachel’s voice grabbed your attention away from each other.
“No way!” “Absolutely not!” You and Felix both practically scolded her simultaneously. 
“ it’s after 4 am you’re not walking anywhere this time of night! ” Felix spoke in his protective voice his tone dropping an octave as if Rachel wasn’t HIS older sister 😂
“It’s alright babes I already ordered you guys an Uber , I think that’s it pulling up right now!” You added 
“Ugh such sweethearts, I told you these two were meant to be together!” Olivia smiled to Rachel as you all hugged once more and said your goodbyes before heading back into your apartment building.
“You ..” Felix turned you around to face him putting his finger through your belt loop and pulling you into him once you stepped onto the empty elevator.
“Me??” You smirked batting your long fluffy lashes at him “innocently” flirted back with your boyfriend.
“Yes you..” he pressed your body into his placing his finger under your chin “you have no idea how in love with you I am”
“idk .. I think I might have an idea” you whispered back wrapping your arms around his neck smoothly leaning in for a kiss which quickly and effortlessly turned into a mini make out session. Your hands tangled in the back of his hair, his free hand squeezing your ass. So lost in your tipsy bliss you barely noticed the elevator stopping at your floor.
Felix’s teeth softly biting and pulling at your bottom lip earning himself a not so quiet moan to escape your lips as the elevator door opened. Pulling away slowly from each other regaining focus is when you realized that someone was standing there watching you two.
Turning around to see none other than Alex. Your energy entirely shifted once you saw his face as if his presence just irritated your whole soul and spirit (and it did!) you let out a loud sigh and sarcastic tight smile (on purpose this time!)
“Finally heading out?” “Uhh yeah….” Alex responded. putting his head down trying his best to avoid eye contact with felix.
“Perfect!” You said rolling your eyes giving him the nastiest resting bitch face. You grabbed Felix’s hand walking out the elevator bumping passed him with Felix close behind you giving him a death glare of his own. 
“Babe..” Felix nudged trying to get your attention once he knew alex was gone. “hmm?” You responded avoiding eye contact because you knew exactly where this convo was headed.
“Babe wait! Stop walking, look at me? ” he pulled your arm to get you to turn around and face him. 
“Hmm?” You repeated, hesitantly looking up at him
“baby what was that?” “What do you mean??” 
“Listen you know I don’t like that bitch.. and I understand if you’re doing the whole my boyfriend doesn’t like you, so I don’t like you either thing.. but that felt like a whole different type of animosity. What’s going on? ” 
“Lix it’s nothing ” you said reaching to pull your keys out of your pocket as a distraction. 
He gently grabbed your chin raising your head to make eye contact with you again “princess ..  I know it’s something. I’m not gonna pressure you but you just say it the word and I’ll beat that fuckers ass again you hear me? ”  
You nodded as he left a kiss on your forehead. “I’m not shutting you out Lix , I  just want to end tonight on a good note okay? 
 “I get it.. whenever you’re ready princess” he said giving you one last forehead kiss before walking back into your apartment. 
“Yo yo yo what are you doing??!..” was the first thing you heard as you opened the door to your apartment. You and Felix Looked at each other in suspicious confusion. “Aw Chris c'mon you’re no fun.. ” you heard Sophie’s voice coming from the kitchen as well. you rushed over to see what was going on. And nothing on gods green earth could have possibly prepared you for what you had just saw. 
Standing at the entrance of your kitchen you could not believe your eyes as Sophie literally threw herself at Chris, grabbing the back of his neck and kissing him. You and Felix both frozen with your mouths hanging open in utter shock. You all were aware of the shady disgusting person Sophie was but this was a new level even for her! Chris reacted before you could even say or do anything. 
“Bro Wtf is wrong with you!?” He raised his voice as he pushed her off of him. “You’re literally dating my best friend have some goddamn decorum for fuck sake!” 
Still neither of them had realized you and Felix were standing there until you opened your mouth to speak “ oh my fucking god” you said just above a whisper almost as if you were trying to confirm what you were seeing was real and not just some drunken fever dream.
Their heads snapped in your direction and Felix swiftly tried grabbing your hand to calm you down. He definitely knew you were extremely close to loosing your shit at any given moment at this point. And ofc within milliseconds You we’re snatching your hand away from him charging towards Sophie with boiling blood pumping through your veins
"“ HOW FUCKIN DARE DO THIS TO HIM!" You grabbed the nearest liquor bottle off the counter attempting to throw it at her. Felix swooping in grabbing you and picking you up from behind as chris tried to snatch the bottle from your hand. Both of them failing with the amount of rage that was pumping through your body. But luckily for Sophie the glass bottle missed her head by an inch and hit the wall behind her. “JEONGIN LOVES YOU, YOU STUPID BITCH AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO TO HIM ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS SOPHIE!?” 
“ Omg did you just throw that bottle at me??!! What is wrong with you, you’re a fucking psychopath!!! you're crazy!” 
Hearing all the commotion and shattering glass Minho and changbin came rushing out from the balcony to see what was going on. 
“ I told yo stupid ass months ago if you ever hurt him that I was gonna dog walk you bitch and I mean that shit! ” 
“Y/n it’s not even like that!” 
“Shut tf up i just watched you kiss Chris after he told you NO! Don’t tell me it not like that when you’re in my kitchen feeling up on another guy when the man who is madly in love with you is passed out drunk in the next room! "
She just stood there stunned looking stupid and tipsy as she realized she got caught. 
“You’re a compulsive liar and horrible friend! I’ve been wanting to beat your ass for so long now but I held out for my best friends sake. I regret ever introducing you to each other and I pray to god he starts to see you for who you really are!” 
“Y/n-” 
“Get your shit and get tf out of my house before I beat the living shit out of you! Delete my number and you better hope I never catch you out in the street bc unlike some people I AM a woman of my word.” 
“Touch me and I’d gladly press assault charges.” 
“Idgaf Bitch I would GLADLY go to jail for beating your ass!”
“Don’t test me y/n” 
“WASSUP HOE!! TRY ME!!! I FUCKING DARE YOU!!!! ” You started raging once again grabbing yet ANOTHER liquor bottle off the counter. This one being bigger and alot heavier Chris and Felix immediately rushed you out the kitchen saving your house from becoming crime scene as Minho and Changbin stepped in to escort Sophie out of the house. 
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Taglist: @hanniemylovelyquokka @milknhoneyracha @tinyelfperson @jiisungllvr @imastraykidsfan@simpracha @turtledove824  @laylasbunbunny  @armystay89  @eclipsemina @4ln-stay8@aalexyuuuhm @scribblesnsketches05 @amarecerasus @euphoric-univers @stellasays45 @night-storm7 @vixensss @blossomlilly @jc003 @hanniesbubuwife @beccaskz@soyeonbean @kawaiijellyfishtimetravelr @chuuyaobsessed @estella-novella @gabriellamarie@livelaughloveskzmwah @thatshroomiegirl @flowerbunnii @whoa-jo @babygirlskz98@leftenemydestiny 
(plz lmk if you would like to be removed or added)
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alittlebitofloveliness · 2 days ago
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A bit late but this is my contribution for day one of outsiders week!
***************
Ponyboy.
There’s a need, after Windrixville, an inescapable pull, tugging him towards the younger boy at all hours of the day and night, forever haunted as he is by Ponyboy's thrashing and then limp body in the fountain, of his jacket starting to smoulder in the heat of the church fire.
Ponyboy.
Things aren’t the same now, might never be again, and it’s funny, Johnny thinks, because the worst scars from the whole thing are not the burns that cover his back and half his torso; just like the worst injuries aren’t the ones that left him like this, an invalid forever stuck in a wheel chair or on those stupid crutches during days when he is having trouble accepting the truth that he will never really walk again. As horrible and permanent as those injuries are, they are nothing in comparison to the way his mind has fractured, finally shattered into a capricious, fallible thing. His biggest scar is thinking the closest thing to a real family he’s ever had was dead twice over because of him.
Ponyboy.
He needs to find him. It’s stupid, he knows it, knows he’s in his room, sleeping, next to Soda, is safe in the house of his parents, protected by brothers who do a better job looking out for him than Johnny himself ever did. But still. His broken mind won’t let him relax, not when it’s telling him over and over that Pony is dead and it was all for nothing. Pony is dead with blue lips in that fountain, he is burning and scared in that church, and Johnny couldn’t save him.
Ponyboy.
He needs to see him. Just a glimpse, just for a second, a small eternity, just to make sure he’s okay. It’s as stupid as it is absolutely essential, and Johnny hates himself for it, for his panic and his weakness, because he never used to be like this, never used to spend every waking minute desperate to make sure his best friend and half his heart was still breathing every second of the day, but something between the fountain and the church changed him, made him all too horribly aware of Pony’s mortality and how fragile it truly is. Johnny doesn’t know why. He himself was closer to dying than Pony was during the whole ordeal, has spent his entire life being beat by his Pa close enough to shake death’s hand and still live to see the morning, but his own life seems to pale in comparison to Pony’s. Perhaps it is because Pony is younger, more innocent, is better than him in any way that matters. Perhaps it is because he is the only person Johnny has ever worried about protecting. Or perhaps it is because he is the person he loves the most. In any case, it doesn’t matter- Johnny just needs to make sure he is okay.
Ponyboy.
His movements are clumsy, unused as he still is to moving himself from the couch to his chair, half expecting legs that no longer work to bend to nothing but his flimsy will. He thinks sometimes he may never get used to it, to knowing what it felt like to have the freedom to run and never having it again. Still, at the moment the strangeness of the chair is a welcome comfort, a way to move, a way to get to Pony. He has to get to Pony, has to check on him, make sure he’s okay. Soda and Darry would never let anything happen to him, except they did already, once, and Johnny had had to take care of him then and he’d failed at it. Pony too, had come back from Windrixville different, could hardly stand the shower and flinched every time someone struck a match. He coughed something awful too, the smoke from the church fire stained into his lungs, yet another horrible scar. And he woke most nights screaming, trapped in horrors that were no longer there.
Ponyboy.
The frantic, desperate, need to see Ponyboy has grown from a swell to a roar, a frantic, frenzied, violent creature tearing at his chest, screaming at him that something is wrong, the Pony needs help, that Johnny isn’t there. He knows, he knows, somewhere inside himself, that Pony is safe in his room, safe in Soda’s arms, but it isn’t enough. He needs to see him, to make sure he’s alright. Just in case. Finally situated, he starts rolling his chair towards the hallway, trying to keep it as quiet as possible. The last thing he needs is to wake the whole house because his mind had broken along with his spine and now he’s half crazy, terrified his best friend is a ghost every time he can’t see him.
“Johnny!”
The hallway door swings open before he’s halfway across the room, and Johnny lets out a sigh of relief as he registers his best friend’s pale face and half grown out hair. 
“Ponyboy? You ok?”
“Yeah,” Pony’s eyes are raking over him over and over, and he’s breathing hard, like he’s just finished a track meet or run away from home, “yeah I’m fine. Are you?”
Johnny follows Pony’s gaze, down to his own hands which he didn’t realise were shaking until just now. Come to think of it, he’s breathing fast too, almost as fast as Pony, and this is another thing they have in common now, another weird scar, the fact that fear seems to jump them when they least expect it, for no other reason that it seems to think they have some catching up to do.
“Yeah,” he promises, taking in Pony’s green eyes, the part of him that’s always been bright, even when the rest of him is dim, “yeah, I’m okay now.”
“Bad dream?”
“Something like that,” Johnny hedges, unwilling to admit he hasn’t been able to sleep a wink since Pony had gone to bed and he’d immediately started worrying he was going to die.
“Me too,” Pony carefully closes the door behind him and pads further into the room, climbing into Darry’s recliner. “Might stay up for a while I think. I promise I’ll be quiet if you’re tryna sleep.”
He doesn’t ask why Johnny was up. He figures he knows anyway.
Johnny nods, rolling his chair back beside the couch, and pushing himself back onto the cushions where his nest of blankets resides, lying so his head is facing the recliner, facing pony. He can see him now. Pony is still breathing. Everything is fine.
"Goodnight Pony."
"'Night Johnny."
The last thing Johnny sees as his eyes slip closed is a pair of tired green eyes, glittering in the light of the moon, watching over him.
He sleeps.
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clubsmarties · 6 hours ago
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"That you are or well I should say you already had." Laurel had made quite the impression even before he officially met her. "I am too. It worked out that I didn't stay in bed like my original plan had been. To be fair the Halloween party was fun all things considered. I did take you out on the dance floor. Wasn't all bad." His smile grew the longer he stared at her. "Is that where you're from? You did say Texas wasn't your home either. How come you didn't go to college out there? You could have left your dad and gone back?" Eli nodded his head as he smiled thinking of her friend coming to see her. "Bet that makes you happy. Do you know when you'll see her?"
Her laughter made him laugh, it was a contagious moment which they shared together in a odd little way. "Good to know bribery works on you. May end up being my secret weapon." A smirk crossed his features as he gave her a look to say he was thinking up ways to bribe her. "Fair point," he confirmed. "I'll keep you warm. Why not. Is it your feet or hands that get cold?"
"Alright I'll be holding you to that. Dont judge my awesome blankets." Though the thought of her finding the tiger blankets on his bed made him chuckle to himself. He heard her stutter briefly and looked over in fear he had said or done something wrong. But when he locked eyes with her he couldn't help but smile. Squeezing her hand a little bit tighter. "And what?" he prompted her to finish that sentence. "I promise next time you can get both lunch and dinner for me. I do like to be wooed." he shrugged giving a slight mischievous smile. "I really do think that if you weren't there she'd have clawed my eyes out. Took a lot for her to hold back I presume."
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"Don't be. If I wasn't comfortable I wouldn't have answered. But yeah, we're close. I drop everything for them as you have clearly seen. As for the holiday birthday. It's alright. I've never seen a reason to celebrate it since it isn't even my actual one. Who knows when I was actually born. But family insist on it every year." He sounded exasperated but reality was he enjoyed it especially getting a cake after his complaining. "Tempting," he laughed. "But no. I wouldn't ghost you. Something tells me we'd be compatible. A little bit of a push and pull I'd guess but nothing we couldn't conquer if we worked together. I can be pretty level headed if need be. I find astrology rather sexy so I mean, if you want to talk eight world wonders to me then by all means."
"I'm taking quirky title, I'm making an impression already. I like it." Quirky was one interesting adjective, but she didn't mind it at all. It was a funny one to her. "Sounds like I should be thanking your family for your party appearance then. I'm really glad you took a chance," she confessed with full sincerity. Was she being completely obvious in her interest? Yes, definitely. There was no hiding it, but Laurel was glad they met. Whether things went how she hoped or not. Friends would still be a very good outcome. She found herself smiling as she looked at him, taking in each feature that complimented those rosy cheeks. "No, she doesn't, but I wish! She's out in California, her and her boyfriend stayed out there for college. I worked really hard to convince them, but didn't happen this time. They might come visit soon though."
Laurel's smile widened when he talked about Juju, making a note to tell her later when she called her. It also just warmed her heart how he easily picked up on her connection to that wonderful girl she called her best friend. "She does, I miss her a ton too. Definitely not, bribery would work on me too," she joked, joining his laughter with her own. Still, his laughter caught her attention - the way his eyes crinkled, oh Laurel was swooning. It was the kind of laughter that made her want to keep saying or doing anything just to elicit that reaction again.
Was she serious, she couldn't really tell to be quite honest. It was the kind of thing said in a joking manner, but she wouldn't mind if it did. She'd leave it at that. "No hogging the blanket; I mean, if you keep me warm, there's no need to hog blankets," she said with a gleam of mischief in her eyes, her flirting getting ridiculously obvious. "But, okay I'm taking notes here. Hey, I don't judge awesome blankets." He really didn't mind, huh. She figured most people minded ditching classes, Laurel usually didn't until she realized that skipping a class meant falling behind. Now, she was strict about going, but today? An exception could be made. So, it was the complete truth when she answered. "Good, I don't mind at all either. I'm excited to learn more about you and," her words trailed off when he took her hand. It was a nice fit - their hands interlocked. Oh, Julia was right, she was falling...expeditiously. "Okay, but I'll get the next one. Yes? Just to keep it even." Without thinking, already eagerly requesting a next one. Seeing his attitude shit, Laurel made the silent decision to not bring Jenny up again, not wanting to sour the mood. "Well, I don't really like third wheels. Quick thinking on your part, wiggling me out of dinner with that class project you told her about."
With his sigh, she was quick to wonder if she had asked the wrong thing or if he was one of the guys who was annoyed by the astrology questions. Though, when he began talking, she felt terrible for even bringing it up. "Oh, I see. I'm sorry, I didn't think...well I didn't think at all when asking. A holiday birthday, so you're kicking off the year with a birthday, wow. You're still close with your foster family, it sounds like." It seemed like a real family to her, the kind of closeness and bond that most families lacked. She was already shaking her head at herself for her blunder when his chuckle caught her off guard. Her eyes were drawn back up to him, a soft nod in response to his question. A slightly awkward laugh escaped her, "I mean, I wasn't thinking of that but compatible signs are interesting," she admitted. "It does depend on all that, but I will say - astrology is not make or break for me. How about you? Would you ghost me if we're like the worst astrological match in history?"
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emeritusemeritus · 3 days ago
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Hi,it's nice to find your page! Especially someone who also adores and admires the Weasley twins (together or not together stories)
Can you make a drabble about vulnera-sanentur,it's 19 years later. Since you were already pregnant and with only little Henry at home,while your other children were at Hogwarts. Can you do,Henry accidentally walking in on you three,making love. It was kinda you threes fault,you guys were to loud,and left the door unlock after getting too excited. And since little henry was still a kid,he didn't understand and the twins just told him to get out,give mommy and daddies some privacy. Then,while you guys "continue",Henry started writing to his siblings,saying he was scared and that daddies were hurting mommy in the bedroom.
Immediately the other children came off,ready to defend their mother.
You can twist some parts💝 please and thank you,have a nice day
Hi love! This has been an absolute pleasure to write, it’s been so nice to dive back into the Vulnera Sanentur universe. I hope it’s okay that I set it around Christmas, hope you enjoy! 🖤
Warnings: Mentions of sex, sexual references, threats, illusions to abuse but no actual abuse takes place, nothing graphic.
Word count: 3.4k (I got carried away)
As a note this is set during the epilogue: 19 years after the Vulnera Sanentur story (here if you want to read)
Fred, George and Reader have 4 kids and another on the way. Aurora (Rory) is in her fifth year, twins Griffon and Finn are third years and Henry is 8.
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Vulnera Sanguinem
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"Oi Griff! Isn't that Owlbert?" Finn nods to his twin across the table in the great Hall towards the Owl approaching rapidly as a number of various others disperse mail to their recipients over breakfast.
Just a few seats up from them, their older sister Aurora cringes at the awful name of the family bird, hoping none of her friends heard and mentally regretting her youngest brother's honour of naming him.
The twins look with identical confusion as the bird comes to a close stop just before them and drops off an unfamiliar letter before nicking a piece of abandoned bread crust from Finn's plate and flying off towards the Owlery for a rest. The twins give each other a look, confused and a little concerned at the hastily scribbled writing on the front. Rory peeks over, the letter peaking her interest but she plays it down, not wanting to spook her brothers. All three of the Weasley kids know that their parents always sent Mail out on a Monday, one each for all their kids and never shared so one single letter arriving is most suspicious, especially considering it was the last Friday of school before Christmas break. They'd all be home tomorrow, why would a letter come now?
"Open it mate," Griff says, thrusting it into Finn's hands but he refuses, instead handing it back to Griffon who sighs, accepting the task.
"It's from Henry," Griffon says with a scrunched up face. He reads in silence, growing more and more confused and concerned as he tries to make out Henry's scribbled writing. Apparently all he had on hand when he wrote the letter was a red crayon, not making it easy for his brother to read.
"Common room, now," Griffin suddenly says to Finn who looks on in concern as his twins suddenly seriousness, something that never happened. They rise quickly from the table and Finn nods to Rory who's watching closely, urging her to follow them.
Once they are back in the deserted common room, they huddle in a corner and take turns passing around the letter, each observing the ominous words. Rory's hand shoots to her mouth in disbelief, tears already welling in her eyes as DH reads her youngest brother's words over and over again.
"Surely not," Finn says, in complete denial, his face stricken. "You really think dad would hurt mum?"
"Which dad though?" Griff says, hunched over as he sits on the arm of one of the sofas.
"Does it matter?" Rory bursts angrily, "none of our daddies would do this!"
"Not what it says there," Griff defends, feeling sickened he'd even have to say those words.
"Then Henry's wrong!" Finn stands, his arms dramatically rising as he makes his point, the usually quieter twin standing his ground and making his point clear. It falls silent between the three siblings for a moment as they consider the options, Finn's outburst making them pause.
"But what if he's not?" Rory says quietly, her eyes rising to the two boys who look nearly identical to her dad's, causing another painful stab to her heart as she's reminded once again of the situation.
——
There's a spring in your step as you bounce around the kitchen, listening to Christmas music and preparing the twins' favourite chocolate cake ready for your oldest three coming back home tomorrow, ready for Christmas break. You were planning on making a selection of everyone's favourite food, double chocolate cake for the twins, a mini apple crumble for Rory and a big roast dinner for everyone with Henry's favourite crispy roast potatoes. You'd even nipped to got some knotgrass mead for your husbands especially and had cooked a batch of Christmas cookies ready for everyone to share. You knew you wouldn't have a lot of time to prepare everything tomorrow, having to pick the kids up just after midday as they arrived back to King's Cross.
"Oooh something smells good in here," you hear George say, stepping into the kitchen. You try to turn towards him but he's behind you in moments, hips pressing into your behind as his lips ghost over the skin of your neck, your hair having been thrust up into a bun when you started baking. Your eyes close with the sensation, already worked up just at the feel of your husband behind you, his semi-excited crotch rubbing against the curve of your bum as his left hand cups your prominent bump, taking a little bit of weight off of it. His right finger drags through a bit of the extra icing, scooping it onto his finger tip as he brings it to his mouth, tasting the chocolaty sweetness with a little moan of satisfaction. You reach to turn off the radio, not wanting anything to spoil this moment, your full attention on George.
"Want to take this into the bedroom?" He says quietly, leaning down to seductively whisper into your ear as he taps the metal mixing bowl. "I could cover you in this delicious icing and lick every single bit off, your choice of where."
You struggle to remain composed at the idea, very invested in the idea of George's tongue on your heated skin.
"Didn't you get enough last night Mr Weasley?" You purr, reaching your hand up to stroke his hand as it rested on your bump. Your body was throbbing already for this, the wonderful surprise of George turning up feeling like the most fortunate timing.
"Never enough Mrs Weasley," George counters in a deep voice, thrusting his crotch into your bum so you could feel the hardness of him against you, hoping he'd be able to tempt you.
You spin around in his arms, a considerably difficult feat thanks to your large bump but George doesn't care, his arms staying firmly around you as his gaze travels to your cleavage where your shirt is considerably stretched across your growing breasts.
"Merlin you look so fucking good pregnant," he growls before capturing your lips in a blazing kiss that forces you to reach out for the counter to stabilise yourself.
You break apart in shock when you hear the front door open, both of you looking towards each other in concern as you scramble to look for the time.
"Mummy?" You hear Henry shout and even more confused, you check the clock on the wall and see that it's only half 2, definitely not when you were expecting him.
"Hi sweetheart, what are you doing home so early?" You call out, waiting for him to appear as you trying to fix yourself to look like you weren't just fooling around with George, who tries equally hard to adjust himself. You walk to the fridge to get him a drink ready and wait for him to appear, inevitably wanting a drink and a snack.
"Last hour was just watching films, we've got films at home why would I stay there when there's," Henry calls out and you can hear him moving through the house, his voice moving closer until he makes an abrupt stop upon seeing you and George in the kitchen. He freezes upon seeing George and quickly looks to you before running up and giving you a tight hug, which is not entirely out of character but something didn't seem right with you.
"Hey watch the baby bud," George says, his face scrunched up at seeing his son be a bit rough.
Henry doesn't let go as you expected and you look down at him, trying to see if there was something wrong.
"Errr I need you, my room, something to show you," he simply says, dragging you along by the hand as you protest, knowing you need to finish the cake but he seems so upset that you couldn't deny him.
He seemed off for the rest of the evening, keeping a watchful eye on you when he thought you weren't looking and almost entirely keeping away from George who was as bewildered as you at your son's strange behaviour. Usually he was all George, much to Fred's displeasure, but it seemed today that he was mummy's best friend. Naturally you assumed it was because of the baby, the youngest struggling to cope with the idea of not being the baby of the family anymore and having to share his parent's attention but when you'd say him down to talk, he'd dismissed it entirely.
Fred tried when he got back from work but nothing seemed to work and he seemed as distressed by Fred as he did George.
You were back in the kitchen again, starting to prepare dinner for the four of you and still hoping for the last night of relative peace before the others get back tomorrow when you heard a deep rumble from behind you, your heart racing as you investigate.
"Fred!" You scream out, not knowing who to call out for first in your panic when you see the mostly unused fireplace knocking from the living room knocking about from the inside, rumbling and groaning. Fred's by your side in mere seconds with George following only moments later, half undressed in only his shirt, tie and boxers getting ready for a shower, sporting a very concerned expression. Fred ushers you gently to the side, with George instinctively placing his hand around your waist in protection as you all pull out your wands and raise them towards the fireplace. You think of Henry alone upstairs and your stomach lurches, not knowing what to expect.
Faint voices appear like an ominous whisper and you hold your breath as they become louder and clearer. The fireplace suddenly illuminates in vibrant green, flames erupting from the base and you jump back in surprise, the floo network having always been temperamental in this fireplace. Who would come here at this time, especially unannounced?
"I told you it wasn't this one!" You heard a somewhat familiar voice say in a clear but irritated voice.
"Well we're here aren't we? Technically." A second but equally as familiar voice counters.
You all seem to lower your wands in sync, letting out long sighs of relief as the situation becomes less ominous with every passing second, realisation settling across all three of you who the voices belonged to.
"You two are the stupidest sodding-." A girls voice cuts out as all three figures appear in the fireplace, suddenly finding their way out of the apparently convoluted floo.
"Mum!"
Rory runs to you, hugging you closely and avoiding your bump as the boys move quickly over to you aswell, flanking each side and nearly towering over you already.
"We're here as well you know!" Fred calls out from the side, the three kids apparently forgetting their two dads were standing in the same room, completely overlooked.
"What are you doing here?" You beam, trying to touch and hug all of your kids individually whilst still being wrapped around all three. "What a surprise!" You couldn't believe they were here, that they'd come to surprise you early. You weren't prepared for them but it didn't matter, too happy in the moment that all your kids were back under one roof.
"Griff! Finn! Rory!" Henry squeals in delight as he runs straight past his daddies to join the cuddle pile, with Finn enthusiastically scooping him up in his arms.
"You do realise you all have two other parents right?" George says jokingly from beside Fred, though their amusement is slowly fading as time passes, their children not acknowledging them at all. The complete joy in your being also begins to fade as the tone suddenly shifts to a much darker, uncomfortable one.
"Okay what's going on?" Fred says suddenly, moving over to you, catching on to the children's weird behaviour. As he moves closer, the twins pull away from you, as does Rory and then Henry who all face their dads with matching looks of hurt and anger.
"Griffon Frederick Weasley!" You scold with fearful surprise as Griff pulls out his wand, pointing it directly at Fred, whilst Aurora does the same to George.
"Aurora Rose, put that wand down this instant!"
You watch in complete astonishment as Finn also pulls out his wand from beside you, pointing it in the vague direction of his dads, whilst Henry pulls out his own faux-wand made from a carved twig that he now wields in an almost threatening motion.
"Woah!" Fred says with complete dread in his eyes as he watched each of his beloved children pointing their wands at him, whilst George looks on in anguish, hurt by very notion.
"Move away from mummy!" Henry shouts, tears welling in his eyes as he looks at his daddies, his twig still pointed at them.
"Guys," he tries to argue but complies, never even thinking about pulling out his own wand on his own children. Both him and George move away with evident pain in their eyes as they comply, hoping all this is just a skit. Griff doesn't relent even for a minute and begins shouting at George and Fred as they still naturally protest what's happening.
"That's enough!" You shout, pulling out your wand to extinguishing the still roaring fire behind you. With another flick of your wand, you magically close the blinds, turn off the radio and suddenly create an harmless explosion above which catches all of them all off guard. You take the opportunity to leap forward and snatch their wands out of their hands, not having the conscience to magically expel their wands from their hands and march over to where Fred and George stand shell-shocked. The kids cry out for both their wands being taken and in protest of you moving forward but you silence them with a simple harsh stare.
"Sit down," you say calmly but forcefully, though you are fuming underneath the surface at their foolishness. "If you all have an issue, we're going to talk about it like civilised humans not brainless creatures." Your harsh glare softens as they do as they are told, even Griffon who is always the most resistant.
"Who wants to go first?"
Silence follows as you look between your kids, all of them looking sheepish but not forthcoming.
"We don't want you to get hurt again," Finn mumbles, averting his eyes and sounding so much like George in that moment that it makes you pause, your mind whirlingnwith his words.
"Me get hurt?" You ask in bewilderment, more confused than ever. "I'm not hurt darling."
"You were," Rory says quietly, tears beginning to build in her eyes, the anger fading from her beautiful face and the emotions now coming out.
You walk over to where they sit, bending down in front of them, hiding the slight sense of your aching hips and burdening bump as you do so. You shoot a glance towards your husbands, telling them to stay there which they surprisingly complying with.
"What's really going on here? I'm fine, I've been fine, no one's hurt."
"But Henry said!" Griff says, still a little more wound up than his siblings, the only one without the sad, forlorn expression on his face.
"Henry?" You ask, turning to your youngest, imploring him with a look of openness. "When? How did you? That's not important," you say with a shake of your head, realising there's a much bigger picture here.
"Henry, sweetheart please tell me everything."
He takes a long shaky breath and looks up at you, trying to judge if you were mad but finds nothing in your face to assume. "I heard daddy and dad hurting you last night."
Your face scrunches up in confusion, brown knitting tightly together as you search through your kind to figure out how in the world he could come to that conclusion.
"Hurting me? Sweetheart your dads have never hurt me and they never ever would," you say gently, your heart breaking at the thought. You can't even look at your husbands, knowing they would look distraught by Henry's words.
"But you were crying, it was loud," he mumbles, picking at the thread of his jumper.
"Honey I," you begin to say only to stop yourself abruptly when you realise exactly what he's talking about.
"Oh no, no no no no," you say, the shocking and quite frankly mortifying realisation hitting you as it all becomes clear. You slowly stand, reaching for the sofa arm as you do so to help you up until you can turn around to Fred and George with wide eyes. They look completely heartbroken, sorrowful looks in their eyes and shoulders slumped. You slowly walk over to your husbands, silencing Rory's protests with a single held up finger as you try to very quickly explain what Henry had actually heard. George looks utterly mortified and Fred doesn't look much better, both of them horrified at your conclusion
"Honey, what you heard last night," you begin to say, turning back and addressing Henry specifically.
"Your daddies weren't hurting mummy."
"We would never ever hurt your mummy," George interjects, voice breaking slightly with the emotion filled vow.
"What you heard," you pause, trying to find the right words in your embarrassed state, suddenly finding your mind void of any comprehension.
"What your mum is trying to say," Fred steps in, finding your lost words. "Remember when we had that little chat about the birds and the bees? About where babies come from." He leaves a moment of silence after his words, waiting for Henry to nod slightly in acknowledgement.
Rory suddenly gasps, her hand shooting up to cover her mouth as she realises quickly what her dad is trying to say. Henry's gaze shoots towards her, unnerved by her loud gasp, not quite clicking on to what Fred was trying to explain.
"Oh no," Finn suddenly says, mind whirling as he fills in his twin brother with a whisper, who instantly pales and looks sickened.
"What? That's disgusting! Henry!"
You wish right then that a portkey could carry you away anywhere but here, wishing for the ground to swallow you up.
"I don't get it!" Henry says, lip wobbling as he realises he's the last one to know.
"Darling, you remember how babies are made right? A mummy and a daddy," you try to calm him, watching him nod. "Special cuddles and all that? That's what you heard last night darling, they weren't hurting me at all."
It suddenly dawns on him and he looks between his three parents to get confirmation as the three other kids look positively ill at the conversation happening in front of them.
"But you've already made a baby," he suddenly says, eyeing your bulging stomach with suspicion. You hear Fred snicker from behind you and fight to hold back your own chuckle at his straightforward thinking.
"Yes darling that's right, but sometimes it's just what mummies and daddies do."
"This is awful, I'm going to my room," Rory says suddenly, almost looking queasy as she stands and attempts to walk off.
"You will do no such thing," you command, face suddenly hardening as you look between your children and raising an eyebrow. "Forgotten about the wand pointing have we?"
It's late now and with a hardly contained sigh, you place the last plate down onto the coffee table and walk back to the kitchen to retrieve some napkins for everyone. After your little chat, everyone had seemed to calm down and you'd watched with rapt anticipation as each of your kids apologised to their dads, giving them tight hugs filled with regretful tears. It had been an eventful and exhausting night, much different to what you had originally planned but you wanted to end it on a high, finding that original joy of your kids arriving home. You'd ordered Chinese takeaway for tea, void of all further energy and had put on a Christmas film for everyone to watch together.
You paused for a moment and looked at the living room in front of you, smiling as you do so at the scene before you. Henry is cuddled up next to George on one sofa, returning to his usual spot and Aurora is nestled into his other side. Griffon and Finn are on the floor by Fred’s feet, whispering and giggling in their own way. Fred’s arms are outstretched on the back of the sofa with an empty spot waiting for you. They tuck eagerly into the food and you watch with abundant fondness at the life you’d created around you, one hand on your bump as you feel the littlest Weasley rolling and kicking inside of you.
Maybe not right now, but you knew that someday you’d laugh about all of this- and remember to use a silencing charm in the bedroom next time.
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