#most snow fall in japan

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐘𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐙𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN TWO YAKUZA HEIRS ARE FIGHTING OVER WHO GETS TO MARRY YOU ?? ❞

✧ pairing: yakuza!satoru gojo x f!reader x yakuza!suguru geto

✧ summary: you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, inspired / dialogue / scene concepts taken from the manga “yakuza fiance,” (which the fic is named after), reader's age is ambiguous, but all are 20s+, violence (as expected from mafia / yakuza stories), blood, stsg have tattoos, implied satosugu (just a passing mention of dating briefly), stsg have sadomasochistic tendencies, a little ooc, switch! gojo (very sub gojo), switch! geto, oral (f + m), deepthroating, handjob (m), fingering (f! receiving), double penetration, sex (p in v), creampie, poly relationship implied ending,

✧ wc: 18,476

“I don’t want to marry either of you,” 

And your statement is met with confused stares — and normally stares like this wouldn’t be terrifying to the average person, but these were not average men you were dealing with. 

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto were anything but average — in many ways. 

Both were incredibly handsome — Satoru was blessed with a piercing blue gaze of the heavens and snow white locks that could stun any person into silence, and Suguru was no slouch either — with long inky black locks tied into a neat bun and his sharp features and his almost all too alluring smile — the two of them looked like they belonged to a modeling agency. Both were also brilliant, attending one of the best high schools in Tokyo, before going to the best university, leading in their respective specialities (Satoru studying physics, while Suguru chose literature). 

And, the two were both the heirs to two of the most dangerous Yakuza families in all of Japan. 

But right now, they are your biggest problems, personified. 

Their families were both vying for your hand in marriage — thanks to your meddling grandfather who shipped you off to Tokyo to get a would-be Yakuza husband — your yakuza family hoping to broker peace after decades upon decades of fighting with one of the other two biggest yakuza families around — the Gojo and Geto families respectively. 

“Excuse me?” Suguru speaks first, a single eyebrow raised, arms crossed over his crisp white button up. 

“I’m not here for this yakuza bullshit. I’m trying to live my own life — and I’m not in the mood to get swept along in my grandfather’s wishes for me to get married,” your hand is in your bag, fingers curled around your collapsible metal pole, “and I don’t care to know either of you, I don’t really care to stick around you — especially because all its earned me is the disdain of all the other students who have crushes on you — so how about we simply tolerate each other for this year?” 

Satoru whistles, “how disappointing,” his eyes raking over you from head to toe, “you’re worse than your reputation — we heard you were a stuck-up, spoiled rich girl that would do anything to get her way, but turns out you’re just normal,” he sticks out his tongue and makes a gagging noise, “how boring,” 

“Truly tiresome,” Suguru hums, his bangs falling in his dark gaze, “I was looking forward to a woman who could match up to us — maybe fuck me up, punish me, and strip away my dignity — type of girl who’d ruin my life, do you understand?” 

You stare at him, lips parted, brow furrowed, “What?” 

“In other words, we were hoping you were much more interesting than you were — as you are now, you’re just useless,” Satoru sighs dramatically, his pink lips curled in a smile, “bor-inggggg,” 

“You might as well go back to Osaka, or wherever it was you came from,” Suguru shrugs, hands in his pockets, as he pulls a cigarette and a lighter, “you could stay, but as it stands, you would be better off back home — maybe it would even start a war — that could be fun, Satoru,” he remarks, his grin growing more sinister by the minute, as he places the cigarette between his lips, and lighting it. 

“Let’s actually not be so hasty, Suguru. She could have some use,” he holds out his fingers to frame you between them, “could be worth something if we have her work at one of our families clubs — selling her body. She could make some use for us,” he says cruelly, “Otherwise, go back home, and let them know we’re the ones not interested in you,” he says, brushing past you along with Suguru. 

And you couldn’t decide which one of their smiles were the most bone chilling — and why you couldn’t quite find your voice in that moment. And you didn’t — not until you finally reached home, your phone ringing. 

“How’s it going, dear granddaughter?” you could hear the grin of the old coot even over the phone — and how could you tell him you wanted to go home now? You had hoped to go there to give two rejections — not earn two of your own. You hoped to stick out the year before leaving this place behind, if only to appease your grandfather. 

“I’m fine, but I think…I think I’m homesick,” you sit on the edge of your bed, hunched over, hand holding your head up, propped against your knee. 

“Why’s that? Did something happen?” 

“Nothing, I just—” 

“You’re not coming back home,” and your hopes fall, “one year, you have to stay one year no matter what. Don’t care if you have to fight with every bone in your body and fiber of your being — last a year,” 

“But why—” 

“Make those boys fall for you, and then break their hearts, heh — your grandfather is a heartbreaker and I know you can do the same,” and you know his lips are curled in a smile not too dissimilar to the two men you met today, “don’t forget where you come from — and what you’re worth,” and he cuts the line, as you stare at your phone, before tossing it away and lying back. 

Well, you know what you had to do. 

~~~

“Morning,” you know where’d they be — the only free period they had together that they spent in the dining hall with their entourage — including some girls who had been harassing you about how you knew the pair — ones you had suspected in fucking with your locker, smearing mud all over your shoes. A small retaliation for capturing their precious crushes’ attention.

The two heirs only stare for a moment — it had been two weeks since they had seen you, “thought I had gone home?” 

“Surprised you didn’t,” Suguru remarks, utterly disinterested from the look in his eyes, despite the smile plastered on his lips, “guess I lost the bet, Satoru,” 

You raise an eyebrow at Satoru, “you thought I’d stay?” 

“Thought you'd stay to take me up on my offer to sell your body,” he holds out his hand as Suguru slaps a stack of bills in his palm, “did you?” 

“I did actually,” your lips curl, as their gazes slide to one another, before you drop a bag on their table, “one kidney, 5,000,000 yen,” and you take delight in the smiles that slide off their expressions, as they stare at you, Satoru looking over the lip of the bag before you knocked it over and let the stacks of money spill over the table, “it took two weeks since it took a while to arrange and recover, but it was well worth it,” 

The pair only can stare — expression unreadable and words seemingly stolen from their mouths, as you only smiled down at them, your gaze digging into their faces like daggers.

Suguru’s eyebrows knit together, “How did you—“ 

“Friend of a friend,” you shrug, “I’ll have to be on a low sodium diet and probably do blood work a little more frequently but you were right about one thing — I was being weak,” you lift up your shirt to show the bandage on your side, their eyes wide, as they can only stare, “I won’t be making that mistake again,” 

And you place your foot up on their table, leaning in, as the mask slips from your face, and your anger surges forth, “listen here, you masochistic fuckers, I’m not scared of either one of you. I don’t care if I have to crawl home choking on my own blood, I’ll be sure you’re choking on each other’s as I drag you both to hell. I’m staying here, whether either of you like it or not,” 

“You can’t talk to them like that—“ one of the girls pipes up, her lips twisted in a frown. 

“I can talk to them however I want - do you know who I am? I come from a family just like there’s but we actually know how to cover up our crimes,” you chuckle, head tilting, “do you know how easy it’d be to get rid of you two?” Your gaze slides to the other girl, “it’d be all too simple — and trust me, I’d get my hands dirty if it’s the two of you,” your lips curl into a wide grin as you add, “after all, you guys did me the favor of dirtying my shoes already,” 

And the two blanch white, all indignance replaced with genuine fear — and you had never known someone could look at you as someone to be feared. 

And you didn’t know you would like it so much. 

You staple the smile on your face again, as the two heirs still sit speechless in their seats, eyes glued to you,  “Well that’s all,” you slide back, “I have to head to class—” 

But then your wrists are caught — pulling you back, as you find yourself pinned on either side by the two heirs, your body tense, before your gaze slides between them, “What?” 

“Marry me,” they both say simultaneously — and you gape at them. 

You are pushing them back, palms pressed against their chests, but find yourself met with two immovable objects, instead trying to squirm out of their grips. “What?” And their grips loosen enough for you to take a step back, but their hands remain around your wrists. 

“I have to have you,” Suguru presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, dark gaze lidded as he looks up at you, and a shiver climbs up your spine, “I’ve never been so terrified or turned on in my life — it must be love,” 

Satoru is the same, mesmerized with eager words, “I want you to do what you promised, Princess — ruin my life,” Satoru’s lips curled in a wide grin, “want you to completely fuck me up, dominate my entire life — and there’s only one way to do that, marry me,” 

Suguru only scowls at Satoru, “You know Satoru, it’s very rude to propose after your best friend does,” Suguru’s gaze slides to him, “she’s mine,” and his other hand finds your shoulder, pulling you against his chest, even as you struggle against their grips, “her family reached out to mine first,” 

“Fuckers, I swear to god, let me go—“ but they act as if they can’t hear you, a current of possessiveness sweeping their thoughts away. 

“So what? Her family decided to ask for my hand — looks like yours wasn’t good enough,” Satoru only grins, pulling you against him instead, his breath warming your flushed skin, as you grimace, “and I’d make her happier than you ever would.” 

“Want to take this outside, Satoru?” Suguru’s glare sent chills down your spine, but Satoru’s lips split into a smile so wide, you were afraid his head would crack in two. 

“Why? Feeling lonely? Go by yourself,”

And finally you stomp on Satoru’s foot before elbowing Suguru in the stomach, drawing groans from both boys, as you stumble away from them, whirling to face them, “Don’t treat me like your goddamn property or that I’m a prize to be won,” your words slip like venom from your lips, “don’t ever fucking touch me without asking,” 

“Of course, we’re sorry,” Suguru only grins after, holding his stomach, but he still looks all too delighted, “you should reprimand us like the scum we are, isn’t that right Satoru?” 

Satoru nods, pouting, “Yeah we deserve more of a punishment,” and your skin crawls at their eagerness. 

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you two, but I don’t want anything to do with it,” you walk away, hiding your dumbstruck expression, but the two only followed you. 

“You can’t just walk away from us, you have to decide who you want,” Suguru calls after you, their long strides meant they caught up all too fast, and you’re armed with your collapsible pole now, pointing it at both of them. 

“Two minutes ago, both of you thought I was normal and boring,” your eyes narrow — was this another plot to just sell you to some club? 

“And I’m sorry about that sweetheart,” Satoru’s arm is around your waist again, while Suguru’s fingers intertwined with yours, “we were clearly wrong — and you have to take responsibility,” 

You stare at them, “for what?” 

And he’s leaning to whisper in your ear, “I’m so hard for you right now,” And you’re whirling on them with the pole, but they both expertly dodge your assault, before you’re hurrying away. But they let you go, watching after you with a grin. 

“This is going to be fun,” Suguru remarks, looking at his best friend, “I can’t guarantee I won’t kill you for her hand,” 

Satoru only smirks in reply, “You stole the words out of my mouth, Suguru.” 

~~~

It had been a week — a week of you trying skillfully to evade the two yakuza heirs. 

And you had failed. No matter how fast you left your classes, where you hid, where you sat — the two always found you. And now you have resorted to sitting outside to eat your lunch, being careful to avoid any stray glance of your presence. You sat, back against the building, as you held your head, bento box in your lap — how long until they would get the message? How long until they figured out you wanted nothing to do with them? 

Your grandpa had told you to make them fall for you, but you didn’t think you had too much more to do with how the two were following you around, dogging your every step. 

How would you last another year? 

You opened your bento — at least for once, you could enjoy your lunch without one of them— 

“There you are,” and your lunch nearly goes tumbling out of your lap, but you grasp it, keeping your food from spilling out of your bento, and you turn to meet the gaze of Suguru, leaning against the windowsill, “you’re a fast one, sweetheart,” his head tilted and lips curled in his signature smile. 

“How the fuck did you find me so fast?” you stare at him, brow furrowed, “it’s barely been five minutes, and this campus is huge,” 

“It’s the power of love, of course,” you cringe, and he laughs, bringing his knuckles to his lips, “oh rather, it’s the power of the tracking device I slipped in your bag,” 

And you blink, “You what?” 

He shrugs, “Well how else would I have found you so quickly? I’ll slip it in your shoe next time,” and he sighs, as you dig through your bag, before turning it upside down and letting your things spill out on the grass, “besides, there’s a good reason I’m tracking you,” and you find the tracker before stomping on it, digging your heel into it, crushing it into the dirt, “there’s been a kidnapping of another Yakuza heiress,” 

And your eyes flit to him, and he’s still smiling at you, “Who?” you continue to collect your things, shaking out textbooks and examining your things for any other hidden trackers. 

“You’ll learn tonight — come to the compound tonight — you’ve been formally invited by both my father and Satoru’s father,” and he’s hopping out of the window, fingers brushing yours as he hands you your pencil case, and he’s all too close now, his warm breath warming your lips. 

“And if I refuse?” and his lips curl in a smirk. 

“You’d be offending not only my family, but Satoru’s as well—” and he’s rising to his feet, offering you a hand, “and it might end in an all out war, but that would be just fine for us — would it for you?” 

You glare at him, taking his hand reluctantly, as he helps you to your feet, and you brush the dirt from your skirt and legs, “Fine, what time?” 

“After school, Satoru will be waiting by the gates for you,” he smiles, as he settles next to you, pulling out his own lunch, and you tilt your head, “oh are you curious about me? I have my own business to attend to,” 

“Is that what the other bastard is up to?” and he chuckles at that, taking a bite of his food. 

“Something like that.” 

~~~~

“Took you long enough, pretty,” the Gojo heir’s eyes drag over you like spotlights as he leans against the gate outside, the other students staring as you two speak, whispering as they walk by, slowing down to either catch a longer glance at Satoru or hear a bit of your conversation, “with being so quick to leave for lunch, I thought you’d be just as quick leaving the building,” and he’s offering you a drink from the vending machine that you reluctantly take. 

“Well, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to being a spectacle,” you grumble, as you power walk away from the burgeoning traffic jam that Satoru was causing, and he follows behind, “why do they all stare anyway? They know you're a yakuza, don’t they?” 

“Part of the draw,” he shrugs, the hiss of his own soda filling the air as he pops it open, “everyone wants what they can’t have, but don’t worry, I only have eyes for you, sweetheart,” you grimace as he sips at his soda, raising an eyebrow, “so what can’t you have?” 

You both finally reach the heart of the city, bustling with people left and right — the one thing you couldn’t get used to from the quieter life you led, “Some peace and quiet, apparently,” you adjust your bag on your shoulder in a tighter grip, if only you could lose him in this crowd and be done with all this shit, but it wasn’t that simple, and then it occurs to you, “did you put a tracker on me as well?” 

“Nah, I just used Suguru’s,” he smiles, as he downs the rest of his drink with his head thrown back, before crushing the can in his hand and tossing it away in the recycling bin nearby, “plus, I didn’t have time, been busy with other things, unfortunately,” 

“What things have you—” 

And you’re suddenly tugged into an alleyway, an arm around your neck and a hand clamped over your mouth, “Don’t struggle, it will only make it more difficult for you,” the man whispers in your ear, as another two men draw closer to your sides, “we’ll kill you if you do,” 

You can’t scream, but you don’t need to — because the man who grabbed you screams first. 

“Who the fuck are—” and he screams, his hands slipping from your side, the thump of his body against the pavement making you flinch, as you slowly turn to find Gojo, as he only glares at the other men, before his gaze slides to you, softening with a smile. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, come here,” and you swallow, before taking shaky steps to his side, and he’s pulling you behind him, “wait here,” 

It happens far too quickly.

Or maybe it’s just a blur now. Because now he’s beaten the three men into submission, their scarlet blood splattering against his uniform, the wet squelch of their flesh as he punches and kicks them, his shoe digging into their sides. He winds his fist back again. 

“That’s enough,” you say hoarsely, swallowing thickly, “they’re barely alive,” 

“More than they deserve,” he mutters, before sighing and grabbing one by his shirt, fabric straining against the dead weight of the man, and pulls him close, his hand connecting with his face as he slaps him awake, “You hear me? Listen,” he shakes him, until the man’s eyes blink open, bleary, “You see me? Don’t forget my face. You touch her again — and it’s the last thing you’ll see before the afterlife, got that?” 

“Yes,” the man slurs. 

“That’s my girl,” he jerks his head at you, “she’s mine and if you or any of your stupid friends or family see her, don’t talk or touch her, much less even look at her,” and his lips curl again, “or I promise my family and the Geto family will slaughter you — until there’s nothing left.” and he drops the man onto the ground, “let’s go,” he mutters, shaking the blood off his knuckles, before using the inside of his uniform jacket to wipe the rest off. 

“Your uniform, it's—” and he glances at the blood seeping into the fabric of his jacket and crisp shirt, and you’re digging through your bag, “I have my hand towel and some—” and he’s shaking his head. 

“I have a sweatshirt I can wear in my bag,” and he’s tugging off his uniform jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, and you can’t look away fast enough — not before seeing the tattoo littering his back. 

A large lion against his back, seemingly roaring, against a backdrop of bamboo, stared back at you, as your breath catches in your throat — he wasn’t just a spoiled heir, he was a real yakuza. And what he did to those men — his eyes met yours again, as he tugged the sweatshirt on, lips still in that ridiculous smile — it was likely the least of what he could really do to them. 

“Oh, sorry, guess I never told ya,” he pulls the orange sweatshirt down, pulling a pair of sunglasses on, and your horrified expression in the circular black rims stare back at you, “sorry for scaring you, sweetheart,” 

“You’re really—” you cut off, heart caught in your throat. Yeah, you had spent too much of your life surrounded by men covered in tattoos, but these two — their auras — were on another level that was simply — terrifying. 

“A yakuza?” he finishes, peering at you over the rim of his sunglasses, “Surprised it took you this long to figure out — thought you had that pieced together a while ago — what? I assume your family shielded you from that kind of violence — probably had guards on you 24/7 so no one would mess with you. Well you aren’t in Osaka anymore,” his fingers intertwined with yours, his larger hand engulfing yours as he tugs you along away from the alley, the faint groans of the men disappearing into the ambient noise of the city, “Stay close, princess.” 

And you flushed, biting your lip. There was a lot you didn’t know, but you knew you better learn — you spare one glance back at the alley — and quick. 

~~~

You both arrive back to the compound, as you’re funneled into a room, you get a glimpse of Suguru in an adjacent hallway, his clothes as bloodied as Satoru’s was, if not more. His dark eyes catch yours and his lips curl, as he holds his hand up as a greeting, mouthing, “Yo,” 

You’re shepherded away to sit, and soon enough, Satoru and Suguru join you, as you fidget in the middle of the room, the three of you sit on cushions, while another cushion directly in front of you. Your fingers can't help but toy with the ribbon on the front of your uniform — what if this was just a ruse to sell you off? Maybe they even found out about you selling your kidney? Anxiety swirled in your mind, dragging down your body to even the tips of your toes, your body buzzing and stinging with thoughts. 

“This really is just a talk to discuss the missing Yakuza heiress,” Suguru cuts through your thoughts, as you stare at him, slack jawed, and he only shrugs, leaning back against his hands flat on the floor, “you’re not hard to read, sweetheart,” 

“Besides, if we wanted to kill you, why not let you die in that alleyway?” Satoru chimes in, ever so helpful, as you glare at him, before his gaze slides to Suguru, “did you take care of that like I asked, Suguru?” and he nods, and before you can ask a question, the door slides open. 

Instead of the heads of the household, a yakuza comes in, sunglasses stare back at you, his dark brown hair slicked back, shaved on the sides of his head, as he stared down at the three of you, “The heads won’t be able to make it to this meeting — something has come up,” 

“Yaga, good to see you,” Suguru chirps, while Satoru only sighs, hands behind his head. 

“Glad to see you haven’t gotten yourself killed since you’ve been away, old man—“ and Satoru earns a fist to his head, “ow!” 

“Keep it up and you’ll get something worse than a whack to the head,” Yaga grumbles, taking his seat, “you must be the girl,” he eyes you up and down, “I’ll get straight to the point — the Akazawa heiress is missing. She’s assumed to be kidnapped,” he hands you a photo of her — shoulder length black hair, her eyes look past the camera, her head tilted downwards, but her hazel eyes pierce through the picture. 

“How long has she been gone?” Suguru asks, “any chance that she just ran off?” 

“There’s a chance she’s been sold off for a couple hundred thou,” Satoru remarks, crossing his arms, “people would pay a premium for a yakuza heiress,” and his eyes slide to you, and you glare back. 

“We don’t know — maybe she ran off, maybe she’s been sold, maybe there’ll be a ransom coming in at one point or another, or maybe she’s dead—” and you bite your lip, “but we can’t take the risk, especially since we have a similar heiress under our care now,” Yaga says, crossing his arms with a hefty sigh, “that being said, you’ll be staying at the compound until further notice— your things have already been brought here,“ you gape at him, mouth nearly hanging open, “and you’ll have Satoru or Suguru with you at all times — their schedules have been rearranged to have class with you,” 

“But—“ and Yaga shoots a look at you that silences your protests. 

“These orders came from the three heads, including your grandfather, would you like to defy them?” And your mouth clamps shut, your head falling. 

“No, sir,” Yaga rises, leaving, but not before ordering the two heirs to show you where you’ll be staying, “and any real threats to you appear, and your classes will be made online and you will remain under guard in the compound,” Yaga adds before disappearing behind another door. 

“It won’t be that bad, Princess,” Suguru grins, as they walk you to your room, “now we can really get to know each other before we’re married,” 

“Don’t you mean before we’re married?” Satoru says, as Suguru only smiles back at him. 

“I would rather not marry you, Satoru, dating you for a week was enough—“ and Satoru opens his mouth to reply. 

“I’m not marrying either of you,” you rub your head, feeling the beginnings of a headache creeping on your temples — you barely could make it through the day with enduring the amount of insanity these two already inflicted, you were sure you’d murder one or both of them if you had to spend 24/7 with them, “we should be keeping a low profile from now on, not going out—” 

“Except for the dates we have planned,” Satoru says, offering you the key to your room, and you unlock the door, stepping inside. 

“Especially not for those.” And you slam the door shut and lock it. 

Your eyes take in the boxes that surround you, full of the things from your apartment, and sigh. 

Fuck, this really was your life now, wasn’t it? 

~~~

“Why are you staring at me?” you can’t ignore Suguru’s stare in the subway, even when you refuse to meet it. The light from the windows flooded into the subway, flickering as the carts sped by, as the two of you hung onto the grab handles. Your usual peaceful ride to university was now impeded by Suguru who stood by your side, his eyes seemingly glued to you. 

“I see that your left side is slower to respond than your right,” and you shift under his gaze, “that’s why your bag is always on your left side, so you can spot a threat easier and have a stronger grip, smart,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “How did you figure that out?” 

He shrugs, “From observation — I also move a little slower on my left — I even blink slower,” and you face him, staring into his eyes, trying to notice any difference between the two eyes. The only thing you could see is how pretty they really were — dark and lidded, not as bright or striking as Satoru’s, but just as mysterious. 

“I can’t tell,” you tilt your head, and he only smiles. 

“There isn’t a difference, but I got you to stare into my eyes, didn’t I?” and you glower at him, your remark cut off by the influx of people flooding into the cart. Fuck, you never had seen it this full before. You forced yourself not to cringe under the tight quarters — you could handle this, it wasn’t a big deal, even as the people sandwiched themselves all around you, anxiety biting at your nerves. And then you’re knocked around by the crowd as the cart jerks, but then, Suguru is pulling you lightly so your back is pressed against a wall and he’s caging you in, his body protecting you. 

Your breath catches — he’s so close, “You don’t have to—” and your gazes meet again, your breath catching, your bag caught between your bodies. He’s nearly pressed against you, the heat from his form seeps into your own. And he smells good, despite the sticky heat of the summer lingering — something musky but sharp at the same time — what was that scent? 

“You seemed uncomfortable,” he says, his hand holding onto the grab handle above, “this seemed like the easiest solution, especially so I can protect you — it would be much easier to shield you with my body this way,” 

“Shut up,” you grumble, as he chuckles, before you’re sighing, “I’m not used to taking the subway — I used to have a car that took me back and forth,” you chew your lip, “I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t take care of myself,” 

“Makes sense to have you driven — as a yakuza heiress, they wanted precautions,” Suguru nods, his eyes sliding around the cart, “you never know,” 

“Is that why your eyes keep scanning the subway cart?” you raise an eyebrow. 

And his lips curl, “I did say I’d protect you with my life, didn’t I?” 

“Did you mean that?”

A chuckle escaped his lips, a noise that makes your breath catch, as the cart jerks again, pressing you both even closer, “I never say anything that I don’t mean, princess.” 

~~~

“Is following me around really necessary even after classes?” you hadn’t bothered to pull your usual disappearing act — it was counterproductive in multiple ways (the first being that either of them would find you and the second being you had to be glued to one of their sides at all times), “it’s not like someone is going jump from the shadows and kidnap me on campus.” 

“You don’t know that for sure, do you, princess?” Satoru drawls lazily, as he twirls his dinner knife around his fingers with a skill that said he’d done it a million times before — probably instead of doing the thing he was supposed to be doing, “a man comes up behind you while you’re studying or shopping, presses a weapon or gun to your side, just out of view, and he’s got the perfect hostage,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “You sound like you’ve done it before,” and the knife stops between his middle finger and pointer, the tip pointed at you, as he looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. 

“Don’t get jealous, sweetheart, you’re the only girl I’d want to kidnap,” he leans forward and swipes a mochi from your plate — even though he had already ate his own — and you scoff, as you turn your attention back to your neglected dessert, choosing to use your brain cells to focus on your food instead of this psycho. 

“How lucky,” you mutter, as you stab your remaining mochi instead of your escort, “do the two of you have to take shifts like this? I’m surprised the two of you aren’t glued to my sides 24/7 together,” 

“We thought it was only fair the two of us split our time — and as much as I’d like to spend each and every hour with you, we both unfortunately have other responsibilities to tend to,” and he takes a bite of the mochi, “plus, this way, we get to spend time with you alone without the other interfering, and trust me, if I saw you with Suguru,” his lips curl, “I’d interfere,” 

“Well you don’t have to be worried about that, because I don’t plan on being with either one of you,” you reply, “I’m here to finish school and go home as soon as I can,” 

“You won’t be saying that once I make you fall for me,” 

You get to your feet, as you pull out your wallet — but Satoru waves you off, already pulling out his card for the waiter, “You’d have a better chance making me fall for you if you tripped me,” you roll your eyes, as you round the booth, and quick as a light, you trip right into his arms, your body bumping against his chest as his arms steady you. A hand tilts your face up to meet cerulean eyes filled with mirth, “did you trip—” 

And then you spot the chair leg you had tripped over oh-so-gratefully, “I don’t need to resort to those measures to make you fall for me, princess,” his finger traces your jaw with a featherlight touch, “I have plenty of other ways to do that,” 

You get to your feet properly and shove him away, as he chuckled, as you rolled your eyes, “Maybe in your twisted dreams, but—” And Satoru is tugging you away from the booth — a tight arm around you waist, as you stammer, “what the fuck are you—” 

“Guy’s been following you — just spotted him from a distance,” he murmurs, and your shoulders tense, resisting the urge to look back, “just keep walking with me, don’t worry,” his arm gently squeezed you, “won’t let anything happen to you, princess,” 

“Don’t call me that,” you murmur, as he leads you back inside the closest building, “where are we—” and he’s pulling out his phone, texting several people. 

“Getting us a ride in case I need to get you to safety, and letting Suguru know of the situation,” he offers you a small grin, “I could send you back, but that would be that and you will be on lockdown. Things might be getting a little more interesting from here — so it’s your choice, will you stay or go?” 

You considered your choices — you could run away from this, go back to the compound, but going back was a guarantee that you would be stuck 24/7 in the compound and stuck there for the remainder of your time here. And these two would take full advantage of that. Plus, your mind wandered to the girl who had been taken — you wanted to know more about what happened to her and why you were being targeted next. 

“Let’s go,” and his lips curl. The two of you round several street corners, Satoru’s arm remains tight around your waist, as he leads to a more and more secluded corner of the city, “is this the right move?” your hand wanders into your pocket, fingers around your collapsible pole. 

He sighs dramatically, “Do you have such little faith in me, sweetheart?” 

“Considering the two of you are insane, yes, I do,” and he clicks his tongue at you, “where—” 

And someone punches you, fist connecting with your left cheek as you stumble sideways into the wall of a nearby building. You hear the cock of a gun, your eyes catch sight of the weapon pointed at Satoru. You caught a glimpse as your eyes flicker open, several men stand behind him, all bearing weapons of some sort. 

Your ears ring, as you clutch at your head, as you struggle to get your balance, your vision in your left eye blurry from the impact,  “Come with me, and your girlfriend won’t have to watch you die,” you feel something warm run down your nose, and you touch it — scarlet stains your fingers. 

Fuck. 

Your eyes flicker back to where Satoru stands, eyes flickering to you, a shiver running down your spine at his hard gaze — not a hint of euphoria left — his lips a thin line, and his fists clenched, “I’ll fucking kill you,” his words leave in a whispered hiss, and quick as lightning, the gun is knocked from his fingers, and Satoru’s got him pinned down, fist winding back to punch his head in. The other men don’t hesitate to join the fray, just as Satoru doesn’t hesitate to take them down, blood spilling from their bodies as they fall one by one. 

You said you would be stronger — that you wouldn’t let this happen again. You weren’t some person who needed to be sheltered away. Your fingers clutched at the pole in your pocket, pulling it out, as you slowly uncollapsed it — you were a yakuza heir, just as much as these two were. 

One of them got up to shaky feet, lifting up his knife to stab Satoru from behind, “DIE!” and you slam into his side, hitting over the head with the pole — a grisly crack as the pole nearly snaps against his skull. 

“Fuck off and die!” the words leave your lips as you taste your own blood dripping from your nose. And you can feel Satoru turn to see you, eyes wide as he stares —  your words burn as much as your head hurts, as you wipe the blood from your nose. 

And the men are all down now, as Satoru walks over to you, and his fingers reach gently for your face, as he examines the blood dripping, “it’s just a nosebleed,” you say, and his gaze softens ever so slightly, before darkening, as a groan comes from the man that punched you. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” your heart flutters at his gentle touch, the calluses of his fingers against your cheek, as he pulls tissues from his pocket to wipe the blood from your nose. 

And his eyes linger on your face for a moment, before he turns to the culprit, fingers clenched tightly around the napkin soaked in your blood. 

He drags the man up by the collar, shaking him, a gurgled groan leaving his bloody lips, “You might want to go, sweetheart — I have to make sure I let this one die for ever laying a hand on my woman—“ and you clasp your hand on his shoulder, shaking your head. 

“He’s half dead already — you don’t need to finish the job,” and he pouts, shaking the man again for good measure. 

“You said he should die—“ 

You shrug, “People like this aren’t worth the trouble of killing. And you don’t need more problems on your hands — so if you’re doing this for me, don’t bother. Let’s just go,” 

And you see his lips slowly curl into a grin, as he pulls you into a hug, arms around you waist, as he runs his fingers through your hair gingerly, “I didn’t realize you cared, sweetheart,” and you frown, “don’t want me getting in more trouble, huh? If it’s for you, I’ll oblige, but you owe me one,” and his fingers slide under your chin. 

“Oi, is the party over without me?” A familiar voice calls, Suguru walks over, several other Yakuza in tow, his sleeves rolled up, as he takes a once over of the situation, seemingly uninterested in the scum, his eyes falling on you and Satoru, lingering on the blood that still was trickling from your nose. His eyes narrowed, “which one—” 

“It’s already taken care of, Suguru,” Satoru rubs the back of his head, “but for your information,” he kicks the one who had punched you in his side, forcing him to roll over, a slight groan escaping his lips, “that’s the one who hurt her,” 

Suguru nodded, stepping over the bodies as if it was nothing more than a spill that had been yet to be cleaned up, as his hand brushes over your chin softly, drawing close, a sharp gasp leaving your lips when his fingers decide to travel to your nose, “It’s not broken, just bleeding, but I should still get her checked out at the compound,” 

“You?” Satoru furrows his brow, “you’re going to leave me—” 

“To clean up your own mess? Yes, I am,” Suguru smiles, “because it’s my turn to keep watch,” as he shows his watch, already well past midnight, “and I should be getting her back to the compound,” the two glare at each other, a tension settling over the scene that you were far too done with. 

You sigh, stepping past both of them, walking over the bodies splayed out on the floor, “Let me know when you both decide,” you yawn, hands in your pockets now, “I need sleep,” and Suguru follows behind, and you don’t see him turn to smirk at Satoru. 

~~~~

You swore someone was watching you. 

A presence loomed over you, hovering slightly, as you shifted in your sleep, a sigh parting your lips as you turned, still caught between in realms of deep sleep as you drifted in and out, eyes fluttering open a moment, and caught sight of a shadow. 

No, it was nothing. It was nothing. And then you’d wake to sunlight filtering through your windows, eyes fluttering open, but you would still wake with the lingering touch of someone else against your face. 

But each morning you’d check the locks, and it would be locked, with no signs of tampering — and you’d be left wondering if it was a dream or not. 

It had been like this for the last week — you’d sense a presence, for a split second of what you thought was consciousness, and then it would be morning again. 

And finally, you decided to stay awake, a knife you had pilfered away from the kitchen under your pillow. You let your eyes drift shut, drifting in and out of a half sleep, until you hear it. 

The slow slide of the door opening, and the soft close of the door behind. The person takes nearly soundless steps towards you, before leaning above you and you feel the faint brush of hair against your skin, before leaning back with a quiet sigh. 

Suguru?

And his fingers slide through your hair softly. He watches over you, quietly, until you turn to face him, eyes open. 

“You know it’s really creepy to break into a woman’s room in the middle of the night,” and Suguru blinks, before his lips curl in a small smirk, “and it’s even weirder when you just sit there to watch her sleep,” 

“Just trying to make sure you’re safe, sweetheart,” 

“In a locked room?” And he shrugs. 

“I broke in easily,” and you scoff, as he rakes his own fingers through his hair, “who else would keep an eye on you?” 

You sit up, crossing your arms, “Surprised you and Satoru aren’t in here,” 

“We take turns,” and you stare at him, as he leans back against the wall, “all we do is keep watch princess — would you have let us in otherwise?” 

You open and shut your mouth, before you find words again amidst the haze of frustration, “I’m not so fucking helpless that you both need to sit here and watch me sleep,”

“We have been doing this since the threats began nearly and you only noticed recently,” he points out, his eyes catching the faint light of the moon, as cautious and patient as Suguru was — his expression as indiscernible as a new moon was, “and it’s only because Satoru had gotten sloppy,” he shrugs. 

You rub at your temples, “you’re not the only one who is a yakuza—“ 

Suguru tilts his head, “Princess, you don’t know what it means to be one — not even your fingers have never been bloodied, and it should stay that way—“ 

Your fingers close around the handle of the knife as you lunge at him — you snapped. You were tired — tired of the men in your life running your life — your grandfather, these yakuza heads, and these two idiots — all of them treating you as if you were spineless. 

And you weren’t. 

His hand darts out — and it happens quickly. The knife clatters against the hardwood, and he’s pinned you underneath him. 

You glare, embarrassment licks at your cheeks like flames — you had placed your fingers on the stovetop and what were you expecting other than to get burned? You can’t meet his gaze, and you’re expecting another lecture or sanctimonious attitude, but instead, his fingers skim your cheek, “You should pick your battles wisely, sweetheart — because not all of them will let you off the hook,” and he leans close, breath warming your lips, as your eyes can’t help but squeeze shut. 

Only to wince after a sharp flick to your forehead. 

And his weight leaves you at once, your head turning to find him examining the knife you had stolen, “You should also choose a better weapon than a kitchen knife — especially one as dull as this one,” 

You scowl at him, “Well, how else will I defend myself?” 

And he smiles, shrugging, “Isn’t it simple? Use the weapons already at your disposal,” 

Your brow knots together, “What weapons?” And his hand is sliding the door open, as he casts one more glance over his shoulder, lips curled in that insufferable smile. 

“The ones sworn to you.” 

~~~~ 

“You’re staying home tomorrow from class,” the thermometer is plucked from between your lips, the white haired yakuza scrutinizing your room, cerulean eyes catching the pile of tissues you had failed to stuff properly in your trash bin, “how long have you had this, Princess?” 

You lay bedridden and pouting as you draw the covers over your face — you had not been feeling well this whole weekend, but you developed a fever last night. You thought it would be gone by the morning, “Just since this morning,” and he’s tugging the covers away, his brow wrinkled, and then you see it, bandages on his forehead, “when did you get hit on the head?” 

And he blink, fingers running through his hair, “This? It’s nothing,” and you raise an eyebrow, “if you must know, it’s just my punishment for taking you into the thick of things the other day,” 

Your brow wrinkles, “Who—“ 

He waves you off, “It’s not important — the important thing is that you get better — can’t have my future wife succumbing to the flu, now can I?” And you scoff. 

“I’m not your future wife,” you mumble, and you hear a small chuckle from him. And then your muscles begin to grow heavy, eyelids fluttering shut under the weight of exhaustion, and your skin feeling far too cold for your burning insides, “Gojo, I’m not—“ 

And you slip into darkness. 

You can feel the world around you move, the sounds of wind brushing against your skin, and the flicker of lights in your eyes. Your lips part, a desert inside your mouth with no oasis in sight, “where—“

A voice quietly shushes you, fingers raking through your hair gently, lulling you back to sleep. Was it your grandfather? No, he never coddled you like this. Not even he had his yakuza to look after. You were expected to care for yourself —- you couldn’t show weakness. 

Not as an heir — even if you were just a kid. 

And when you do wake for a moment, it’s with some prodding, a voice whispering for you to open your mouth at the press of a medicine cap to your lips, and your eyes flutter open to catch a glimpse of blue eyes — so you do, swallowing it with water. 

You fall into the arms of sleep again, only waking to your head slightly aching, and a distinct void in your stomach. You reach around blindly for your phone, and find that it’s still Sunday, nearly the evening. Your eyes adjust as your gaze spots the last glimmers of the sunset in the window. 

How long have you slept? Like four hours? You sighed, slumping back into bed, as you stretched. Your fingers pressed to your forehead, still a slight fever, but it was definitely lower. Maybe you could sleep for a bit longer, and you turn on your side only to find a familiar, not-so familiar sight. Your lips can’t help but curl a little. Again there is someone in your room, but instead as your eyes flutter open you see that Satoru has dozed off.

You hold back a chuckle, as you slowly get up, drawing a little closer. His head was against the wall, slightly tilted, soft breaths leaving his lips, arms crossed. He had a prescription medicine next to him along with a water bottle. Your fingers reach for the medicine, and you glance it over — seeing that it was prescribed earlier today for you. 

Your brows knit together, when did you—and then it comes back to you slowly — the lights, the sound of wind and cars — he drove you to a hospital. And his shoulder starts to slip 

And then you reach for him, trying to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. 

That’s when he grabs you — his eyes fly open, as he grabs you by the wrist, pulling you close, his hard topaz gaze cuts through you, until it slowly fills with recognition. His fingers digging into your wrist loosen ever so slightly, as he blinks. 

“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” but his fingers don’t leave your wrist, “are you feeling better?” 

“I am,” you admit, as his other hand reaches up to brush against your forehead and then neck, sending hest crawling up your skin for a different reason. 

“Looks like the medicine worked,” he sighs, leaning back, “guess I can scratch beating up that doctor off my list,” and you furrow your brow, “it was a joke, Princess,” 

“Why did you take me?” You asked and he tilted his head, “I mean you could have had me looked at here, so why did you—“ 

“As much as my father pays for these services, they don’t work weekends, usually — we do have an on-call physician, but,” he shrugs, as his thumb brushed back and forth against your wrist, right where your pulse was, “I didn’t want to wait,” 

And your eyes slide to the bandages around his head, “but you couldn’t get that checked out?” 

“Worried about me? I’m touched, Princess,” and your fingers reach for the bandages and brush against his locks, “hey, you—“ 

“It’s coming loose,” you lean over and slide your hands until you find where it’s coming undone and tie it tighter, fingers brushing against his soft locks — noting the undercut you hadn’t noticed before, “there,” 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, as your eyes meet his and your breath catches, your face an inch or two from his. And he looks different in the dark of the room, illuminated by the last vestiges of sun that were quickly fading into the night — softer. 

“Why did you take care of me?” And he blinks a moment, taken aback and he tilts his head, “someone else could have—“ 

“I wanted to,” he cuts you off gently, “why would I let someone else do it when I could? It was the least I could do,” and it was your turn to tilt your head, as he adds in a whisper, “I let you get hurt. I should have sent you home,” 

“If you had tried, I would have stayed anyway,” and he chuckles. 

“I know,” he murmurs, “and I know what it’s like to tough through things as if you’re invincible — as if nothing can touch you — and it’s only a matter of time until it does,” and your fingers brush against the bandages on his head, as you dare closer, less than a breath away. 

“Maybe I should make you take your own advice,” you whisper, and his lips quirk upwards in a smirk. 

“I’d love to see you try, Princess,” he adds with a grin, “you know I’d love to submit to you anyti—“ 

And you swallow the rest of his sentence with your lips, a chaste brush that leaves your entire body burning for more — a spark to kindling that you told yourself you wouldn’t start. But, your lips part his to see his soft gaze meeting your own, before finding your lips again, how could you not? 

“I’m going to get you sick,” you manage between kisses, lips meeting and parting, as he chuckles against you, a vibration sending a shiver that definitely wasn’t from your fever.

“You’re worth it, Princess,” but he kisses you one last time, noses brushing, before your stomach rumbles loudly in the relative silence of both of your soft pants. You flush, and he can’t hold back his laugh, as you smack his shoulder.  

“Shut up, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, thanks to someone,” and he’s still laughing as you try to smack him again, but he catches you by the wrist. 

“Don’t forget, I really like it when you punish me,” his lips press to your wrist, your breath catching for a moment before you hit him again on the chest regardless. And he laughs, leaning on his hand, “oh what will I do with you, sweetheart?” 

You scowl at him, rolling your eyes, “You can start by getting me dinner,” you grumble, and he repents, getting to his feet, “Satoru?” And he pauses, eyes flickering back, “thank you,” you manage, biting your lip all the whole, unable to meet his eyes or see the smile on his lips. 

“Anytime, Princess.” 

~~~~

You hadn’t seen Suguru or Satoru all week. 

Once a sought after rarity l, but now a foreboding concern. Satoru had been away on business — you didn’t care to know what, but you knew he’d come back only more clingy than ever. You chewed on your lip — especially after the kiss. 

Fuck. You kissed Satoru, you buried your face in your hands, what the fuck were you doing? Could you use the excuse that your fever had rendered you momentarily insane? No, Satoru would only crack a joke saying that he’s crazy for you too. 

What was your plan? You were only trying to bide your time for a year — not become further entangled 

You lay back on your bed, as you scroll through your phone — but Suguru was a different story. You heard from Satoru that he had returned. Yet now there was some random yakuza checking in each hour  — and even worse, keeping you confined to the compound. 

And a small part of you did worry for them as you tossed your phone aside — those fools may have death wishes but that didn’t mean you wished the same. 

You leave your room, sighing as you explore the compound. You had done your fair share of exploring, but you had never wandered into Suguru or Satoru’s quarters. You had been told by each of them where their rooms were, only for you to glare at them for providing you the implication. But now…maybe it was useful. 

You walked through the halls — seemed like most people were away at the moment. When Satoru had captured those people who had attacked you both, there was information learned about who was targeting you and of where that girl who was taken could possibly be. But it’s not like you were able to find that information out — unless you went looking yourself. 

Satoru and Suguru’s rooms were close to each other’s — but Satoru’s room was locked, as you tugged at the door to no avail. You glared at the handle as if it was the white haired idiot itself, before turning to Suguru’s door. 

You pressed your ear to the door, it was silent, not a single noise inside. You pull at the door and it opens. You step inside — the room is neat, a desk in the corner, along with a bed on the opposite side, but not much else. There were a few other things — a dresser with a few containers tucked beside it and a small bookcase against the wall near the desk lined with books on each shelf. 

It wasn’t what you expected — though you didn’t know what to expect. You stepped into the room, glancing around, as you approached the desk first. You rifle through the papers, finding nothing relevant — only papers from class and a few scattered notes that had nothing but addresses and initials scribbled. 

And then the door opens, you freeze, before you slowly turn to see Suguru, his clothes tattered, blood dripping from his arms and soaked through his white button up. His gaze is dark and heavy, until he finds your eyes, his brow wrinkled. 

“What are you doing?” no ‘sweetheart’ or ‘Princess’ — just a question. 

“I was looking—“ but you bite your lips, as you watch his shoulders slump, “what happened—“ 

And he draws closer, as you slowly take steps back, until he’s looming over you, his arm pressed above you, “Princess, you shouldn’t get involved in these things, unless you want to end up like this,” and the smell of death rolls off of him, the heaviness of his gaze could drag you down to the depths of hell — but you didn’t care. 

“Sit down,” and he blinks, before you’re pressing him onto the bed, “I’m going to get a first aid kit and some bandages,” 

“Sweetheart—“ but you’re already out of the room, returning with a first aid kit and bandages, “where did you—“ 

“Well after that first time Satoru and I got jumped by those people, I figured it would be good to stock up on things,” you pull out scissors and tape, and you dampen a washcloth you had stored in the kit with a water bottle you had grabbed. “Take off your shirt,” he hesitates, “getting shy?” 

Suguru’s lips curl, before he sighs, unbuttoning his shirt, “You know I rather you hurt me than take care of me,” and you scoff, as you busy yourself with preparing the materials to tend to him. 

“Well it looks like someone else already did that for you,” and your eyes meet with his bare chest, the red and black ink of his tattoos encroached onto his shoulders, but more than that — bruises bloomed on different parts of his body, scars from old wounds of various ages littered his skin, and dried and fresh scarlet clung to his skin from fresh cuts. 

You take the washcloth, slowly starting to run it over his body, the white cloth marred with his blood, he doesn’t flinch even as it cleans his cuts or wounds.  

“Why are you doing this?” And your eyes meet his, his amethyst eyes cut through you. 

“Because you’re hurt,” 

“Just because I’m hurt doesn’t mean you have to help,” you sigh, as you urge him to turn so you can clean his back next, the sight of his tattoo on his back unsurprising now as you continue to clean it. 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t have to either,” he gives a soft chuckle, “what’s your goal here sweetheart?” You urge him to turn again, as you begin to clean the blood from his arms. 

“Do I need to have a goal?” And he turns to face you, leaning even closer, as his black locks fall in his eyes. 

“Everyone has one — didn’t you have one for coming in here?” And your hesitation is all the answers he needs, “curious about what’s going on with those people after you, huh?” 

There wasn’t any use lying now, “Wouldn’t you be?” 

“I would be, but I wouldn’t get caught, now would I?” and you scoff, as his lips curl, “we have been tracking the group that we suspect has the heiress, and we have been interrogating the people that you and Satoru secured,” ‘secured’ — more like nearly murdered by the way Satoru acted. 

“And where were you?” 

He sighed, “Dealing with some loose ends — and some other business that my father had me deal with,” and he adds, “I had to make sure a message got out — so no one would ever attack you like that again,”

And why does your heart squeeze at the thought, “Why are you so willing to tell me?” And your hands begin to clean and wipe his palms. And you set the washcloth down, beginning to bandage some of the larger cuts and wounds, and his fingers intertwined with yours, as you glance up. 

“Because you deserve the truth,” he shrugs, “and even if I lie, you’ll figure it out, so why not tell you to begin with?” And he leans even closer, fingers skimming your cheek, “plus I don’t keep secrets from my future wife,” 

“I’m not marrying you,” but you don’t pull away, as he’s even closer now. 

“Well, you said never before — and I’ve worn you down to a ‘not’ — it’s only a matter of time,” and his words make you want you to pull away, to scoff at his words and leave, but you don’t. 

Why can’t you? 

“And I thought Satoru was the one full of himself—“ and his lips find yours, his kiss was more insistent, his fingers find your jaw, featherlight before it finds purchase on the back of your neck. You could taste the faint taste of blood, lingering on his lips, 

“And you also thought Satoru was a good kisser,” he smirks, as his lips ghost down your jaw, nose brushing against your cheek, as you pause — how did he— “well now you know what a good kisser is actually like,” 

Your eyebrows knit together, “Geto—” 

“Suguru,” he corrects you, he tilts his head, his thumb cupping your chin, and your lips find the other’s, his forehead pressed to yours. Then his phone rings, and the moment’s broken. He pulls away just as fast, as he turns to answer his phone, “Hello?” he listens, a man’s voice on the other end, “I understand, okay.” and the call ends, as he offers a smile to you, “I have to deal with some business, but I’ll be back later. And then it looks like I’ll be your escort while Satoru is away.” 

“What business—” but he’s brushing past you, going to his wardrobe to grab a fresh shirt, buttoning it swiftly, before pulling on another jacket, as he turns to glance at you over his shoulder. 

“You know better than to ask me that,”

“But you said you would be honest,” and he shrugs his shoulders, a smirk on his lips, as he heads out of the room. 

“I didn’t say when.” 

~~~~

“We have to tell her,” Satoru stood, hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall of the compound. Suguru clicks his lighter again, flicking it on and off — he had quit a few months ago when you had told him that you hated the smell. And he didn’t miss it, but he still carried the lighter — old habits die hard, “the pictures we got — they are getting better at tracking her without us noticing. And these other fires we’re being sent out to deal with — it’s leaving us with less time to protect her,”

“Do you have to?” Suguru asked, flicking his lighter closer, the silver outside glinting in the low light of the moon, “isn’t it safer for her to stay in the dark for now?” 

“Staying in the dark doesn’t mean she won’t put herself in danger one way or another without us knowing,” Satoru shrugs, “she said even if I had sent her home that day that those men were after her, she would have came after me,” 

Suguru gives a terse chuckle, “I don’t doubt that she would,” he sighs, gaze towards the inky darkness of the sky, dotted with faint stars that he couldn’t see but knew were there — just as these threats were, “if she found out that her grandfather was threatened too? There’s no way she would wait,” 

“So what do we do?” Satoru scratched the back of his head, “we could send her back home — she might be safer there than here,” 

“Her grandfather told us—“ 

“I know, but what choice do we have, Suguru?” he sighs, and Suguru can’t help but quirk his lips. 

“You know if we do this, we may have to fight her grandfather to stay engaged with her,” And Satoru smiles, shrugging. 

“I know, but we can handle it, can’t we?” Satoru leans back, “we’ll just have to fight him on it. Why? Are you afraid?”  

Suguru gives a short chuckle, “Since when have you known me to be afraid of anything?” And he turns his gaze towards the door, “so when should we tell her?” 

But they don’t notice that you’re pressed against the door, your fists clenched. And they were right about one thing — you wouldn’t wait. 

~~~~

CRACK! 

Fuck, your eyes burned as you tried to open them, the sharp pain in the back of your head radiating all over, as your eyelids refused to open. What happened? You tried to hold your head, only to have your wrists strain against something rough — rope? The fibers dig into your wrists as you try to stand, only to find them bound to something else. 

“Finally awake?” it was a woman’s voice — and your eyes still can’t quite open — fuck, this wasn’t part of your plan, “take your time, they said they wanted you in pristine condition so I can’t have you falling apart on me later on,” she scoffs, her footsteps receding away, and you could hear the quiet murmurs of other voices — men, by the baritone. 

Your eyes burned as you adjusted to opening them, still fighting the urge to flutter them shut under the pain. The dim light swung overhead, a warehouse from the bare floors and even barer walls and ceilings overhead, barely illuminated in the flickering exposed lightbulbs hanging over the middle of the room. 

“Where am I?” You choked out, voice wavering in a way that made you want to grit your teeth and chide yourself for the fear that seeped into your words. 

The quiet click of heels came closer, “Don’t recognize me? Well I suppose you never did see my face in person,” and you knit your brows together as she stepped closer, leaning in far too near for your comfort, “I should thank you for your efforts in trying to find out what happened to me. It made it far easier to kidnap you,” 

Her hazel eyes were even more startling in person. 

“The Akawaza heiress,” you stare at her — her hair had grown a little past her shoulders now, ends slightly curling at them, “I thought—“ 

“I was missing? I was,” her lips curled, running her sharp lacquered nails through her black locks, “but it was my choice,” the screech of chair legs scraping against the floor makes you flinch ever so slightly, as she sits in front of you, her legs crossed, “I’m being rude — how is your grandfather?” 

“Fuck off,” you spit, and she clicks her tongue. 

“And here I thought you had manners, but I suppose the city’s changed you, little princess?” she hums, leaning back, wood of the chair creaking as she did, “or maybe your boyfriends did,” you say nothing, scoffing, as she sighs, “or knowing your grandfather, you probably didn’t have any to begin with,” 

Rage fills your veins, lava bursting from them as the venom leaves your lips, “Don’t talk about my grandfather like that—” 

“Why shouldn’t I? You never cared for the yakuza before, right? Is your grandfather not included in that equation? Or maybe it was because he kept what he did behind closed doors, and never bothered to tell you the truth,” and you’re not fast enough to stop your brow from furrowing, and she latches onto it, “Oh he didn’t tell you, did he?” 

“You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” you murmur, and she laughs at your remark, her nails clicking against the forearm of the chair — lacquer on wood that began to grate on your nerves, “can you get to the point of all this shit? Why the fuck am I here?” 

“Because your grandfather is picking and choosing who he favors — and so I decided to take his heart, and I’ll only give her back if he gives me what I want — ” and then you see the way her lips curl and her jaw is cut, and it occurs to you. 

Your grandfather had said he was a heartbreaker. 

“You’re his granddaughter,” and she smirks, her nails falling still. 

“Do you see the family resemblance?” she leans against her hand, elbow against the arm of her chair, “it would be nice to meet you — if I didn’t have to possibly kill you,” 

“So you want to be the heiress? I never wanted to be one in the first place—” 

“Do you think that matters?” she scoffs, “what matters is the choice your grandfather makes —  and he’s chosen you — with no regard for the other children he has had,” her gaze falls downward, “do you know what it is like to watch your mother vye for the approval of someone who never truly cared for her in the first place?” 

Your gaze falls downward, “I don’t know,” you admit, “but is all this worth this? What do you think he will even do for me?” 

“He’ll meet my demands, and each hour he doesn’t, he’ll get another finger of yours,” she pulls a knife out, the blade glinting in the dim light, as she rises to her feet, your body straining back as she draws close to you, running the flat of the blade down your cheek, “should I start with your left hand or right?” she pulls the blade back, and you smile, “what—” 

And you lean your head back and smash your head against her own. The crack of your skulls colliding rung in your ears, along with the knife clattering to the ground, as you felt warm droplets ran down your face, and she stumbles back, clutching at her forehead, scarlet staining her face and fingers, “It’s funny you think that I came to you without a plan — how do you think I found you?” 

“It wasn’t on her own,” and a hand on her shoulder, before she’s pinned to the floor. Satoru’s eyes slide to you, a smile on his lips, as she’s struggling, trying to look for her men, “looking for your goons? Suguru has taken care of them by now, unless he needs my help,” 

“Akari isn’t the only one who likes to hear herself talk,” Suguru runs his fingers through his hair, “Satoru, you haven’t even untied her,” his footsteps echoing as he approaches you, bending down to pick up Akari’s knife. 

“A little busy at the moment, Suguru,” Gojo has Akari pinned with one hand, “unless you’d like her to get away,” and Suguru shrugs, as he slips the knife under your restraints and cuts them off, “are you doing alright, sweetheart?” 

“I’m fine, just my head’s aching,” and Suguru pulls a cloth from his pocket, wiping the blood from your face, your eyes closing and nose wrinkling as he does, “did you call my grandfather?” 

“Yeah, I don’t have a death wish,” Satoru replies as he hauls Akari up and hands her off to his associate to take her. 

You get to shaky feet, “Hold on,” you walk over, grabbing Akari by the front of her blouse, silk wrinkling under your grasp, “fuck with me or my family again, and I won’t be so lenient,” you shove her off, and then you add, “but I’ll talk to my grandfather about some sort of possible arrangement for your mother,” 

And then you wave the yakuza off and they take her away — assuredly to Kyoto to be dealt with by her grandfather. 

“Are you really going to talk to your grandfather about her?” Suguru asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s the least he could do since he caused me to be targeted,” you grumble, rubbing your wrists, as Satoru takes his suit coat off and places it around your shoulders, before a smirk pulls at your lips. 

Suguru tilts his head, smiling, “Well, how would he feel if he knew you got kidnapped on purpose?” And you shrug. 

“He doesn’t need to know that.” 

~~~

“I’m surprised you guys agreed to my plan,” you hiss as Satoru takes a damp cloth to clean the dried blood from your face, while Suguru is knelt, bandaging your ankles — their rough and bruised hands somehow still gentle, “I thought you would never let me wander into danger,” 

“Well, we knew we had to do something when we realized you were listening to us, didn’t we, Princess?” Satoru snorted, and you could hear the smile gracing his features — even with your eyes shut — “and this was the best way to ensure you weren’t hurt,” 

“Relatively,” Suguru adds, as he finishes bandaging one ankle, “did she do anything else to you?” 

And Satoru’s hand pauses as they both wait for your answer, and you shake your head, “No,” and Satoru pulls the washcloth away, your eyes fluttering open to meet two skeptical gazes, “really, I’m fine,” your lips curl after the two of them look away, Satoru turning to grab a bag of ice for your forehead, while Suguru busied himself with bandaging your other ankle, “is this threat the reason my grandfather sent me to Tokyo?” 

The timing had lined up — Akari had started the threats not a few months before — after she had reached legal age, the perfect age to contend for the position of successor to her grandfather. And by sending you here, your grandfather thought he was putting you out of immediate danger — but he didn’t know Akari would make her way to Tokyo. 

“More or less,” Satoru sighed, as you flinched when he pressed the ice pack to your head, the condensation from the bag already clinging and dripping down your face, “the geezer wanted to find the source of the threats against you—and by sending you here, to your potential fiancés—“ 

“I would be safe protected twofold by two of the biggest families—“ and you blink, pulling the ice pack away from your face, “the engagements — that’s why they were leaked — it was to protect me,” you mumble, “so that means—“ 

“You can go home if you want, Princess,” Suguru says, looking up at you, expression as inscrutable as it always was, “the engagements were only pretense,” 

“You both knew?” And Satoru sighs, scratching the back of his head, and why does it feel as if his nails are carving out a piece of your heart. 

“The old coot swore us to secrecy, we didn’t have—“ 

“But, everything, the two of you…the engagement—it’s over,” you say slowly, gaze falling downward. You should be happy, relieved, thrilled — you could go home, what you wanted to do from the start. You could get your own apartment or transfer to a different university—and leave this behind, a bad dream washed away by the events of a new day. So why? 

Why did it hurt? 

“Don’t tell me you’ll actually miss us, sweetheart?” Satoru teased, a force more than anything — bittersweet worded coated in a sugary sarcasm, “because I very well may propose here and now,” 

You almost scoff, but Suguru beats you to it. 

“A proposal now? Seems like finishing early isn’t what you just do in bed, Satoru,” Suguru scoffs, as Satoru shoots a glare over his sunglasses, “she’s only eager to get home now isn’t she? "If she isn’t so eager,” he adds, “then she would stop the one she wants from leaving her room, wouldn’t she?” 

And Suguru is slowly getting to his feet, while Satoru also turns to leave — and you don’t think—but you were sure that you truly hadn’t thought a single sane thought since you had arrived in Tokyo—

You grab at the fabric of both their shirts, fingers clutching at it, as your lips curled when they glanced back at you. 

“Who said either of you could leave?”

~~~

“You’re going to have to use your words,” you murmured, fingers ghosting Satoru’s jaw, a delightful shiver parting his lips as you smiled at him, sat spread at the edge of your bed, “what do you want?” You stepped closer, between his legs, daring even closer. 

“Sweetheart, you know what I—“ and a low groan leaves his throat as your fingers slide to the nape of his neck to tug at his snowy locks, “please—“ 

“I know you love this,” you murmur, leaning to press a kiss to his throat, smiling against his skin, “you said you wanted me to hurt you, so it looks like you’re getting your wish,” your eyes slide to the other, sat in a chair, “I know you like to watch, Suguru, so you must be enjoying yourself,” and you’re further unbuttoning Satoru’s shirt all the same — crisp white button up definitely creased and wrinkled as it fell open, tugged out from his slacks. 

Suguru’s fingers flexed against the grain of the wood of the armrests, his muscles taut, his lips a tight line that only matched the fabric of his slacks straining against his erection. The corner of his mouth twitches, and you smirk. 

“I didn’t hear an answer, Suguru,” and you’re placing another kiss on Satoru’s neck, a whine leaving his throat, while your eyes find Suguru’s amethyst gaze darkened to nearly black, his knuckles white against the wood, as you lean down to lick a stripe up Satoru’s neck, who bites his bottom lip. 

“I’d enjoy it even more if I could touch you, or me,” Suguru adds through gritted teeth, “Princess—“ 

And you click your tongue, “You had such patience when you were watching me sleep — so where’s that patience now?” Your fingers graze Satoru’s erection through his slacks, and his head is falling back, as Suguru shifts in his seat, not so subtly adjusting himself. 

You undo Satoru’s belt, unbuckling it with ease, as his cock slaps against his stomach, and you didn’t know it was possible for a dick to be pretty, but Satoru’s was — a deep flush settled over it, pearly beads of precum dripping from the ruby tip. And a distinct heat begins to throb between your thighs. 

“You can touch yourself,” you tell Suguru, his legs twitching to get up, “but you can’t cum until I tell you can,” you run a finger up Satoru’s cock, teasing the weeping tip, a groan leaving the snowy haired man’s lips, “strip, Suguru,” 

And he does, you hear the click of his belt, the sound of fabric rustling, as your fingers tease the slit of Satoru’s cock, gathering precum on your fingers, drawing a grunt from his lips. You can hear the distinct sound of Suguru spitting in his palm, his hand beginning to work at his own cock. 

“Both s’good for me,” you murmur, as you stroke Satoru’s cock in earnest, the quiet moans from both their mouths sending a ribbon of need to your already dripping cunt, “can’t wait to fuck you both, make you my toys,” and you’re pressing a kiss to Satoru’s tip, his pretty, pink lips parting, as his head rolls back again, “but you’d both like that wouldn’t you? Maybe I shouldn’t let either of you cum, make you beg me all night,” as your tongue traces his lovely vein up the side of his cock, “what do you think, Toru?” And your mouth finally closes around his dick, sucking hard that draws a hiss from his lips, fingers fisted in the sheets. 

And Suguru isn’t doing much better, the sounds of his hand squelching and the moans leaving his lips growing louder and louder. 

“Please, Princess, I’m close, I can’t—“ and you click your tongue, a pout on your lips, as you pull away your touch, “baby, I—“ 

“Can’t let either of you cum so fast,” your eyes slide to Suguru, his cheeks flushed a lovely pink that reaches even his ears, as his hand slows, his cock twitching in his fingers, “gotta make you earn it. It’s only right after all the shit you put me through right?” 

It’s a cycle, a cycle of you bringing them both to the edge of orgasm, only to tell them to stop. Their sweat slicked brows wrinkled, as you worked them up once again and again and again — you had lost track of how many times. 

“Please, please, sweetheart,” and you knew you could get Satoru to beg, but you didn’t think it would be this easy, and you let his dick brush against your throat, as you let him fuck your throat, hips jerking, “fuuuuck, I need to—” 

And you’re pulling your lips from his cock with a pop, glancing at Suguru whose black locks are beginning to come loose from their neat bun, more of a mess now than he had been fighting yakuza earlier, and all because of you. 

“Suguru? Wanna cum?” you ask, smirking as his gaze raises to meet yours, a desperate look that tells you everything you need to know, “be a good boy and tell me,” 

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, as pre drips down his knuckles, “fuck, Princess,” he’s shaking his head, “ I want to cum, please — I need—” 

And your lips curl, “cum for me,” you murmur before you’re wrapping your lips around Satoru again, his tip brushing against your throat, sucking hard, his fingers finding purchase in your hair. And he’s cumming hard, his hot release slides down your throat, nails digging into your scalp, nearly never ending — even as you pull away, his cum paints your face and lips, and drips onto your clothes. His cerulean eyes glazed as he looked down at you between his legs, a string of spit and cum connecting you to his cock. 

And Suguru was no better. He had cum hard all over his hand and the floor, his cock still somehow half hard, his body slumped back in the chair, as his chest heaved. His hair tie had long fallen away, his long black locks brushing against his shoulders. 

You lick your lips clean of Satoru’s cum, wiping the rest away with the back of your hand, “Made such a mess,” you tsk, as you get to your feet, slipping off your shorts and shirt, before leaning down to kiss Satoru, and he’s still sensitive by the way he jolts against your touch, before melting into it, his tongue parted your lips with ease. And fuck, you hoped he couldn’t see how wet you were — nearly dripping down your thighs at this point. 

And you’re pulling away, your thumb dragging down his lips, as his teeth try to catch the finger between them, but you’re too quick. You turn, a smile on your lips, you make your way over to Suguru. 

You’re wiping up the mess on the floor with your shirt before kneeling, “made such a mess, Sugu,” and he’s staring at you through half lidded eyes, his fingers brushing your cheek, “did I say you could touch me?” 

“You never said I couldn’t,” he murmurs, and god, his voice is far gone, raw and nearly guttural, as his fingers found purchase in your hair, “and I think I earned it after your little performance—“ and he hisses when you lean in, tip of your tongue teasing his slit and licking the dripping cum off his half hard cock, “fuck—“ 

“Not yet,” you smiled, as you started to lick his cock clean of his cum, “but maybe if you’re good,” he grunts as you sink is cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around his length, licking and sucking — and fuck, he was already twitching in your mouth. 

And then he’s easing you off his dick with a tug of your hair, and you’re glancing up at him, a question on the tip of your tongue, but he’s swallowing it with a kiss, as his hands slip down your body to haul you nearly into his lap. Calloused palms find their way to your hips, squeezing lightly, as he pulls away, cupping your chin with his thumb. 

“Suguru—” and you yelp as he picks you up with ease, placing you in Satoru’s lap whose hands wind their way around your waist, his fingers already beginning to tease your hardened buds through your bra, a gasp leaving your lips, as Suguru placed his on your neck with a smirk as he murmurs:

 “Let me show you how good we can be, sweetheart.” 

~~~~

“Tell us what you want, princess,” Satoru murmured in your ear, his warm breath doing nothing to help the needy heat between your thighs, the one that Suguru was knelt between, his large palms spreading you before him, “is she as wet as I think, Suguru?” 

And Suguru catches your gaze, a wicked smile on his lips as he replies, “Wetter, she’s a mess, aren’t you?” you bite your lip to stop a whimper from leaving your lips as his fingers graze the growing wet patch on your panties. And your squirming only makes Satoru grunt, his erection pressed against you, the friction doing little to help either of you. 

“Fuckers,” and Satoru clicks his tongue, a smile on his lips as he turns your head. 

“Think I have a better use for that mouth of yours, sweetheart,” and his lips find yours, right as Suguru toys with the elastic of your panties, snapping it against your skin, Satoru swallows the small noise that escapes your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as it does. 

And god, you already can’t even think straight. 

Satoru’s fingers are pushing up your bra, teasing your nipples, as Suguru pressing a kiss to your dripping cunt through your soaked underwear. 

“So pretty,” Suguru murmurs, and Satoru’s lips part from yours, gaze darkening as he drags his thumb down your kiss ruined lips, and he tugs your drenched panties down, “and your cunt is even prettier, isn’t it princess?” 

And you were — your gorgeous pussy was glossy with your pre, dripping all over his fingers when he parts your messy folds, “Bet she’s even tighter, isn’t she?” Satoru murmurs, as his dick twitches against your ass, “

You whine as his words warm your aching pussy, your eyes flickering downwards, as Suguru’s lips graze your inner thigh, and you already know Satoru’s pouting. 

“You’re taking your goddamn time, Suguru, when do I get my chance?” He grumbles, nose brushing against your neck, as you can’t help but chuckle. 

“You got your turn, and now it’s time for you to watch,” and your giggle turns to a soft gasp when his lips press a kiss to your clit, “and sweetheart, can’t wait to see how you’ll punish me for this later — because I’m not stopping until you beg me to,”

Your lips part with a reply, but he pulls a moan from your lips instead as his tongue drags up the length of your weeping entrance. God, fuck, how did you taste this good? His tongue flicked against your puffy clit, drawing lazy circles, your slick already drenching his chin and lips. 

“So fucking good, baby, s’good f’me,” and your fingers are threading their way into his dark locks, pulling him even closer, his lips closing around your clit to suck, “could live in this pretty cunt,” he grunts, the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance. 

Your head falls against Satoru’s shoulders, a groan fell from his lips as his cock dragged against your ass, your slick drenching his thighs and cock alike, “can’t wait to sink my cock into you, fuck,” Satoru murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt rang in his ears, and he could imagine how wet and warm you’d be once he sunk into you, inch by inch. 

And he couldn’t wait — he needed to do something. 

Satoru’s fingers found their way down your body, tweaking your nipple before one large palm dragged slowly down your front, until he found your clit right above Suguru’s face. 

“Toru,” you gasp, as his fingers pinch your clit and Suguru glares, pulling his lips away for a moment, only to sink a finger back in insteas, drawing a moan from your lips, “Sugu—fuck—“ 

And it’s too much, one more touch and you’re cumming, body falling back into Satoru, as Suguru fucks you through your orgasm. Your release runs down their fingers, as Satoru lifts his hand a moment to lick his fingers clean. 

God, you’re too pretty for your own good, Satoru’s eyes drag over you — your kiss ruined lips, skin shiny from your sweat, and the way your eyes were lost in an endless pool of lust. 

“Suguru was right, you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” Satoru grin, gently turning your head, and you’re panting, nose wrinkling ever so slightly at his words, and he tuts, “don’t believe me? Well I can fix that,” and his lips find yours again, letting you taste yourself, swallowing your moans, as Suguru continued to finger fuck you. 

Suguru’s finger stretches you open, fluttering, knuckle deep, as your precum drips down his fingers. 

“Remember who’s fucking this cunt, sweetheart,” and Suguru is, another finger parting your needy folds, and between Satoru rubbing your clit and Suguru’s fingers curling to find that one spot, drags against your insides, “fuck, how are we going to fit, Satoru? She’s still so tight,” Suguru grunts. 

You pull your lips from Satoru’s, a whine leaving your lips, “More, please, I need—“ and a third finger joins the other two — but it’s not Suguru’s. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking soft,” Satoru groans, pressing soft kisses to your skin, only serving to make you keen at their touch, and your walls flutter around their fingers. 

“Fuck, we’re trying to fuck her open and she just keeps getting tighter,” Suguru grunts, while Satoru’s lips find your earlobe, sucking, just as he adds another finger, a moan escaping your lips again. 

Suguru’s fingers fuck at a steady pace, fucking deeper and deeper, while Satoru’s are faster, pistoning in and out while dragging against your walls — and it’s not long until they are working you up to a second orgasm, it’s too fucking good — and they both find that spot in you that has you seeing stars. 

“I’m g’nna—” and Satoru finds your lips in a sloppy kiss, saliva slipping from the corner of your mouth. And you cum, even harder, your swollen folds clamping down on their fingers as they continue to fuck you unendingly through your orgasm. Your lips pull away, only to moan their names, again and again, until they finally slow down. 

“Good girl,” Suguru murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to your thighs, while you come down from your high, walls flutter around nothing at the praise, while Satoru nips at your neck right above your racing pulse. And your eyes find Suguru lazily palming his weeping erection, as you lift your bare foot to rub against it, making him hiss, while you rub against Satoru teasingly. 

“Don’t forget who’s in control,” you kiss Satoru again, before biting his bottom lip, and he’s melting into your touch, “and, you were good,” your foot rubs against Suguru’s cock again, drawing another pretty groan from his lips, “but now it’s time to be obedient.” 

And they are — as you have Satoru sit back against the pillow lined headboard, because if it was anything you knew now — Satoru loved to be controlled, while Suguru liked the illusion of control, even if he didn’t have even a bit of it. So you have Suguru kneeling behind you, as you climb into Satoru’s lap, a small groan leaving his lips as your cunt grazes his hard cock. 

“Such a good boy, aren’t you, Toru?” your fingers run through his hair — and god, his undercut was so fucking hot, as your fingers found his cock, letting the tip tease your soaked folds, as you line yourself up, “tell me what you want,” 

“Fuck, princess, y’know what I want,” and a whine leaves his throat when you let his tip sink into you, only to pull out. 

“Come on, nothing else to say? You always love running that mouth, don’t you? You wanted this, wanted me to ruin you, didn’t you? Well here we are,” you hum, as you press a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth, “beg me,” 

And his dick twitches, painfully hard, and the words spill from his lips, “Please, please, sweetheart, use me, use my cock as a toy, want you to fuck me so bad, make me yours—” and you’re sinking onto his cock, his length parting your folds, as moans fall from both of your lips. And he bottoms out, your hips meeting his as you do, and you can feel every vein, every ridge, every inch notched inside your walls. 

“Toru, fuck, s’good, s’big,” it feels too fucking good, and he’s so long — god, he was brushing against places you never even dreamed of reaching. And your pussy clenched at the thought of how deep he would go when he would start thrusting. 

“Sure you have space for me, Princess?” Suguru leans back over to press kisses all over your face, before finding your lips in a heated kiss, “might be too tight of a fit,” his nose brushing against your cheek. 

“I’ll make you fit,” you murmur against his lips, your hands against Satoru’s chest, as you shift to cup his chin, “get behind me, Sugu,” 

Suguru smirks, slipping behind you, pressing himself against your back, dragging his cock teasingly against you, “So needy — you’re worse than Satoru,” and Satoru makes a noise of protest, but your walls flutter, making his back arch, “want me inside you, sweetheart?” And his tip teases at your entrance, brushing against Satoru’s cock, causing all three of you to moan, “tell me how much you want us to fuck you, how much you want both of us inside you,” 

“Fucker, I swear to god,” you turn your head, your glare undercut by the desperation on your face, “just fuck me— 

And Suguru sinks into you, your head falling back against him, as both of their cocks stretch your cunt out. You were so fucking full. And the way your walls clenched around them was nearly enough to make them cum. Their groans come in unison. 

“Fuck, Princess, you don’t have to break our dicks off — we’ll fuck you again,” Suguru grunts, his rough palms sliding to your hips to squeeze them. 

“S’good, sweetheart, so fucking right for us,” and you can’t think straight with the two of them inside of you, and you’re moaning. 

“Please, move—“ and they oblige, beginning to fuck you. You moved against Satoru, riding him as best you can, while Suguru fucked you from behind, his balls slapping against your ass. 

Suguru drives into you at a steady pace, causing you to rock against Satoru, your hips pressed against his, as they both drive deeper and deeper into your wet cunt. 

“S’good, so pretty,” Suguru presses sweet kisses to your neck, while Satoru’s eyes flutter open to meet yours, “I’m close, Satoru—“ 

“Me too,” Satoru manages, and his hips begin to meet your thrusts, “you gonna cum for us princess?” And he finds your gaze, the fucked out expression enough to nearly make him cum right there. 

A whine leaves your lips, as they continue to fuck you, and you know you’re so close. And then they find that spot in you again, and you’re falling apart, lips parted in a moan, both their names on your lips. You clamp down on them, toes curling as you cum, and neither of them can last. Their hips stutter as they give sloppy thrusts, until they both cum, 

They groan your name as they spurt their thick cum inside, notching themselves as deep as they could, continuing to fuck their cum inside you with messy thrusts. 

A whimper escapes your lips between pants, as your arms and legs shake from your position, utterly fucked out. You three stay like that for a moment, both of their sweet nothings they murmur to you falling on deaf ears.

And then finally they are shifting you onto the bed, pressing soft kisses to your face and neck, as your eyes flutter shut. There’s shifting on the bed, as one of them leaves for a moment, and you make a noise, only to be reassured that he’ll be right back. 

Your eyes finally flutter open to find Satoru and Suguru cleaning you up with a wet washcloth, and your gaze finds both of their own. Your lips curl at the sight of them, their gentle gaze enough to make your heart ache. 

“Come back,” you whine, and they both chuckle, as they begin to finish drying you off, before tossing the washcloth into the wastebasket, and crawling back beside you. They help you pull a shirt on, before settling in. 

“So needy,” Satoru murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, even as he buries his face in your chest, his warm breath tickling you as you run your fingers softly through his white locks. And Suguru presses himself to your back, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, his arm around your waist, and yours resting on top of his. 

“What will we do with her?” Suguru mutters, and you can hear the smirk in his tone. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, your eyes beginning to feel heavy, as you give into the warmth that enveloped you from their bodies, as it lulled you to sleep. And your lips curled into a smile, a smile that had you wondering right before you slipped into sleep—

When was it that you fell for them? 

~~~~

You couldn’t do this. Not to them. 

That’s what you had decided come morning — waking up between entangled limbs and soft breaths against your skin — how could you? You felt Satoru shift closer to you, as you leaned into his touch, running your fingers through Suguru’s black locks. You were addicted to their touch only after one night, and now you had to spend the rest of your life without it. 

It was the only way. 

This whole thing was ridiculous to begin with — you never cared to be involved in the yakuza to begin with. You wanted a normal life — or at least as normal of a life you could have with who your grandfather was. You had never expected to end up wrapped up in all of this — and in both of them. 

But you didn’t know if you could choose between them — and you knew, you had to. It wasn’t fair to either of them — not when they had asked you to choose last night and they had indulged you in both of them. And now, you didn’t want to let either of them go. 

So you had to let both of them go. 

You shifted slowly to sit up, Your fingers traced Satoru’s cheek lightly, as you toyed with a strand of Suguru’s hair. They both still stayed fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the early morning, deep in the embrace of sleep after the events of last night and the last few weeks. You didn’t want to be someone like your grandfather — you didn’t know what you wanted and that was enough of an answer wasn’t it?

The two shift in their sleep, and your body grows heavy, your back still aching from last night, as you lie back down beside them, running your fingers over both of their arms. 

Even if you had your answer, you didn’t have to face it for another few hours. And their bodies shifted, Satoru burying his face in the nape of your neck, while you rested against Suguru’s chest. This was enough — enough to last you a lifetime, wasn’t it? Your eyes fluttered shut, sinking slowly back to sleep. You had told your grandfather you’d break their hearts — 

—but you didn’t know you would be breaking yours as well. 

~~~

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Satoru narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms, as Suguru stepped aside to show the empty room you had left behind — a bare husk with nothing left behind, not even a note. 

It had been a day. 

When Satoru had woken up beside you, he could have sworn he was still dreaming, even as he grazed your skin gently with the back of his knuckles, he still couldn’t quite believe it. And when he spotted Suguru pressing kisses to your cheek, he knew it was real. 

“How long have you been awake?” Satoru raised an eyebrow, “it’s not fair to have your fun while we were asleep,” 

And Suguru rolled his eyes, as he rubbed the back of his knuckles gently against her cheek, “I just woke up, and all I did was kiss her, you idiot,” 

“Not fair, that means I have to kiss her too,” Satoru murmurs, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheek, and one even to your nose. Your nose wrinkles in your sleep, and Satoru’s lips quirk upwards, “she’s so exhausted from last night still,” 

“She is,” Suguru hums, as he tilts his head, “what are we going to do about last night?” 

Satoru pauses a moment to consider, “Well, what is there to discuss? She chose us both, didn’t she?” Satoru leaned close to you, to press a kiss to your head. 

“She did,” Suguru props himself up with his elbow on his side, “I thought you weren’t one to share,” 

And Satoru shrugged — he wasn’t one to share, he wanted what was his to be his alone, but with you — the more people to protect you, the better, “If it’s what makes her happy, I don’t mind,” and he adds, “and I don’t mind if it’s you that I’m sharing with,” 

Suguru raises an eyebrow, a chuckle on his lips, “Is that so? Well, good,” as he runs a finger through your hair, “because I feel the same.” 

But Satoru supposed you didn’t. 

“When did she—“ 

“My father told me she contacted her grandfather this morning, and let them know she was leaving — and her single request was to send us away on business so we wouldn’t be able to stop her,” and Satoru gives a bitter chuckle. 

“So that’s it?” Satoru crosses his arms, “why did she—“ and he cuts himself off, “have you tried to call—“ 

“I’m blocked, I assume you are too,” Suguru shook his head, a silence settling over the two of them that Satoru chose to break. 

“Do we go after her?” And Suguru pauses, his brow wrinkling a moment, before he sighs, shaking his head. 

“If she comes back, it has to be her choice,” Suguru slid his hands into his pockets, “otherwise, we’re back to square one,” and he adds, “and I don’t think I can go back after last night.” 

Suguru steps away, heading back down the hallway, and Satoru follows. 

No, Satoru thinks, sparing one glance at the empty room, before pulling the door shut, neither could he. 

~~~

“Why did you come back?” You set another box down, wiping the sweat from your brow, your grandfather simply watching as you brought your things back into your room. 

“What a warm welcome,” you scoff, as you head back out to pick up another — the other staff had offered to help, but you had waved them off, lifting another box, your back still aching — and now you were starting to regret it. But you knew if you didn’t do something to distract yourself — your phone taunting you on the top of your desk — you’d do something you’d regret. 

And you’d already filled your quota for the next six months at least. 

“Don’t get me wrong, kid,” the geezer sighed, as he watched you bring the last of the boxes in, “I’m glad you’re back and the matters are all settled — but,” he tilts his head, “you seem more miserable than before,” 

“I’m just tired,” you reply, but his furrowed brow says he’s unconvinced, as you grab a box cutter and begin to open up the boxes, beginning to sort through your things, “and still trying to wrap my head around the fact you lied to me,” 

And he sighs, “this isn’t about me right now — it’s about you—“ 

“How convenient,” you mutter under your breath. 

“You’re in love, aren’t you?” And you can’t help but freeze for a moment, until you force yourself to continue unpacking, pulling out some of your clothes from the box, “which one is it?” 

The question stabs between your ribs like a well thrust sword between the ribs, finding the center of the problem — along with your heart. 

“Gramps—” 

“So it’s both of them?” and you whirl on him, your eyes narrowing, and he chuckles, holding up his hand, “I didn’t spy — I just took a guess,” he sighed, as he pulled out your desk chair and took a seat in it, “and it looks like I was right,” 

You swallow, your eyes falling to the floor, “I didn’t cheat, if that’s what—” 

He laughs, “I know you aren’t like me, little one,” he leans back in the chair, hands folded in his lap, “you aren’t one to lie — because I know there’s more you hate than liars,” and his gaze grows a little sadder, “And I’m sorry I had to become one of them,” 

You grit your teeth, “I’m not mad at you — I’m just—” you choose your words carefully — because you’re angry, you were upset — upset that he felt as if he couldn’t trust you, “wondering why you didn’t tell me the truth,” 

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, “My past isn’t something I’m proud of, and I wanted to deal with it without involving you,” he sighed, “after everything with our family — I didn’t want to give you another reason to distance yourself from me,” 

“Lying to me isn’t a better option than that,” he rubs the back of his head, “you have to make it right for Akari and her mother — as well as if you have any other kids—I don’t need to know,” you add, when he opens his mouth, “it isn’t fair to them,” and it would be no fairer to not choose between Satoru and Suguru. 

“You’re right,” he raises a brow, “is that the problem? You can’t choose between the two of them, eh?” and your gaze refuses to meet his, “have you talked to them about it?” and your silence serves as an answer, “then I think you should take your own advice and talk to them about it,” 

“What will that do?” you murmur, “they still will want me to choose—” 

“Do you know that for a fact?” he crosses his arms, “I think you owe it to them and to yourself to talk to them, and to your grandfather who can’t stand to see you this miserable at home,” 

“Do you think it will change anything?” and he shrugs. 

“Maybe it will or maybe it won’t,” he tilts his head, as he pulls out his phone to call you a car, “but if it’s a chance for you to be happy, isn’t it worth taking?” 

~~~~

“I want to marry you both,” 

And again, your statement is met with confused stares, as you had all but pulled up to their compound and entered to find them seated together discussing business in a side room — and their stares were still anything but average — but to you now, they meant so much more. 

“Not marry you right now, but maybe eventually,” adrenaline was surely pumping through your system, right? That’s probably why your hands were shaking and your mouth was dry, but even so you knew you needed to say it before they spoke, “I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. I told myself after we first met I wouldn’t be a coward, but I was when I ran away, and I don’t have any excuse,” you swallowed, “but I know what I want — and I want both of you, as selfish as that feels,” guilt crawled up your throat at the statement of that sentence, as if begging you to swallow the words that spilled from your lips back up, “and I don’t know how either of you feel — but if we were to do this, I would want us to be honest and—” 

And the screech of their chairs takes you aback, and you felt your cheeks burn, was this it? 

But instead of brushing past you, they stand in front of you, one of them tilting your head upwards to meet their gazes. 

“Took you long enough, sweetheart,” Satoru’s lips curled, his hand cupping your cheek, “I know we said we wanted you to hurt us, but not like that,”

“Sent us away just to ghost us,” Suguru clicked his tongue, his fingers still under your chin, “I’ll have to plant a tracker on you again,” 

You shake your head, “Wait, what? Are you both okay—” 

“We did say we’d kill the other for your hand, but,” Suguru presses a kiss to your forehead, “But now we realize the more eyes watching you, the better, and,” he shrugs, “we don’t mind sharing if it’s just with the other,” 

“And I know you’ll prefer me sooner or later,” Satoru adds, earning a glare from Suguru, as you only chuckle, “Suguru is always so grumpy—ow!” Suguru smacks on the back of the head, as the black haired yakuza wraps his arms around you, pressing your back to his front. 

“And you are always too busy running your mouth,” Suguru replies, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “sure you can handle both of us in your life?” and you pull Satoru close too, letting his lips brush yours, before turning and pressing a kiss to Suguru. 

“Shouldn’t you be asking yourselves that?” you say, as the two of them wrap an arm around you, “I am supposed to ruin your lives after all.” 

✧ a/n: so this has been a longtime coming. i was supposed to be working on prof geto (5) + my nanami celebration fic but this took over my life and wouldn't let go until i finished. so i hope you guys enjoy!! and this is my reminder why i don't write multi partner scenes like this often because its....difficult. thank you to @gaylatteart for reading and putting up with me <333

✧ taglist: @midmourn, @whore-for-hawks, @ekaterinatepes, @satoryaa, @mandysfanfics, @sodoney, @sukunasfavoritehole, @kazbrkker, @satorugirlie, @itsbokutosjuicyass, @santos4, @levanadragoneel, @talkativetranscendant, @abiiebibie, @simply-a-s1mp, @jolynelovesrain, @deegausserr, @xxemmarldxx, @biancaness, @satoniko, @ackermanbby, @rintoriss, @kentocalls, @marionettte, @bear-likes-mushrooms, @forest-hashira, @catsgomurp, @k1t0u, @rat-loves, @forest-fruits-jam, @wishingforanother, @roseified, @spider-fan72, @caelestine-the-caelicatto, @gojolvrr34, @chosobun, @chuuyasboots, @nanamis-baker, @hanxyy,

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[bunnys-kisses]

baby trapping - (vol. 2) suguru geto & satoru gojo

rating: e (18+) reader: f summary: being in the presence of two of the most powerful sorcerers in japan and quite possibly the world left you feeling small. a small time curse wielder known mostly for using a small rapier full of cursed energy. you fought almost with a dance like stance, it was like watching a beautiful performance as you slashed your way to victory. to geto and gojo, you were their little doll. tags: baby trapping, smut, multiple sex scenes, breeding kink, pregnancy kink, dirty dirty stuff a/n: if have any other characters to add to the baby trapping collection, please check my pinned post and suggest your own! U・x・U

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being in the presence of two of the most powerful sorcerers in japan and quite possibly the world left you feeling small. a small time curse wielder known mostly for using a small rapier full of cursed energy. you fought almost with a dance like stance, it was like watching a beautiful performance as you slashed your way to victory.

to geto and gojo, you were their little doll. a little ballerina in a jewellery box that did a small dance when you opened it. oh how they adored you, so small compared to them. geto once joked that handling you was like handling a sparrow, grab on a little too tight and he’ll break your delicate little wings. 

and as much as you puffed out your chest telling them that you weren’t some weak little thing, you could never beat just one of them in a fight. you always ended up on your knees or on your back with one of your lovers over top of you, lavishly making out with you. the thrill of the fight causing tightness in their pants. 

the three of you lived in a large home out in the country, as much as it annoyed you to be away from tokyo. but you found small pleasures in your large garden out back. you always wondered why the three of you needed so many bedrooms if the three of you slept in the main one.

  “why not?” gojo asked as he cupped your face, smiling down at you, “guests, friends, family.” his smile grew. what was he talking about, none of you had family.

the snow was starting to come down in late november. the flurries stuck to the fallen leaves of the garden, that was when the sex got a little rougher. both had their sadistic streaks in them, as much as they showered you in affection they also used and abused your poor pussy. fingers, tongues, toys, and large cocks all found home in your wetness. 

gojo had gone to the city which left you and geto alone. you whined that you wanted to protect the city but geto looked at you and implied that you didn’t want to spend time with him. and gave a soft frown. 

  “fine.” you said, “i’ll stay.” before you tightened the robe you wore and padded down to the kitchen to get some coffee. as you walked away you heard the two men murmur to each other, and felt their strong gaze on your back. 

you watched the snowflakes fall as the coffee brewed. you heard gojo leave the house and soon geto was in the kitchen with you. his hand on your back as he leaned down to kiss you.

  “staring at snowflakes, i see.” he said, his hand lingered down to your ass and gave it a good grope, “i was always more of a spring type of guy. renewal, life, birth.”

you snuggled up closer to him and leaned up for a kiss, “as much as I hate snow, i like when it’s all fallen and there’s that look of untouched snow.” you admitted, then letting out a small sound when his large hand squeezed your cheek. 

just like you, geto thought. a virgin before the two men had their way with you that hot summer night after a round of drinking. in your small apartment, both men promising you to hide their little doll away. protecting you in their eyes. 

geto flipped up the bottom of your robe and placed his large hand between your thighs, feeling your covered pussy. he smiled, eyes on the window as he continued to grope you. 

  “you know.” you said, looking to him, “if you want to have sex with me, suguru. ask me.” a smart woman you were, you’d make a fine mother by summer. 

he huffed out a laugh and pulled you even closer to him, hand still on your ass, “well, will my fine love. my beloved, beautiful love. the most beautiful woman i have ever laid my eyes on, will she let me fuck her in our kitchen?” the corners of his mouth upturned.

you playfully shoved him, “okay, no need to over do it.” you undid the fasten of your robe and let it fall to the floor. there you stood in a sports bra and panties, a beautiful sight to your boyfriend. 

he carefully pressed you up against the counter, face resting against the granite and your ass at perfect level for his cock. he pulled down your panties like he was unwrapping a christmas present and rubbed your ass before with his large hands spread your thighs. 

  “beautiful.” he dragged a finger across your pussy, feeling the wetness between your thighs. he brought the finger to his mouth and tasted your delightful wetness. “mmm.” he said, “perfect.” 

  “you better not cum in me as much last time, it got everywhere.” you remarked with your cheek against the counter and hands against the edge. you heard him chuckle behind you. 

  “i can’t help it, doll. you just bring something out in me.” he rubbed your lower back and smiled at your mostly nude form in front of him. he knew you were fine with both of them finishing inside of you. 

you were on the pill for years now, but two months ago switched between gojo’s hand to geto’s then placed in the nightstand at your side of the bed. the sugar pills were good at faking as birth control, geto was surprised they even had the colouring of the pills right and the proper label on the box. he didn’t even want to know where gojo went to get this done.

it wasn’t like he was out of their little mission either, he wanted to see you round with his child as much as geto wanted to see you round with his. they wanted their little doll to be giving them children for a long time. 

geto’s hand touched your stomach for a moment, open palm rubbing it which made you giggle a little. always the ticklish little thing. he placed one of his hands back on your hip as he pushed his cock inside of you, hearing the small groan and the tensing up of your pussy around his cock. 

  “relax, relax, baby girl.” he said softly, “it’s just me, you know this cock as well as you know your own body.” and groaned when you relaxed. he looked down at your body as he placed his other hand on your hip. 

he started to push and pull against you, your noises were sweet and soft. it made him only harder. the prospect of you being with him and gojo forever because you’re having their babies made him aroused. the idea of breeding such a lovely sorcerer into a fine mother to create half a dozen even stronger curse users made him lick his lips. 

you’d be theirs forever, out in the country. chasing around babies in diapers rather than curses. geto could almost imagine you waiting for them to come home with a nice round belly and a few young kids sporting either black or white hair.

geto was broken out of his train of thought when you started to moan his name and he picked up the pace. his grip tight on your hips, slamming his cock inside of you as he pushed deeper and deeper, he swore that his cock was bullying against your cervix. bruising it as a reminder of him. 

yeah c’mon, mama, he thought to himself as he slammed himself further into you. feeling the slick wet sounds of your love making in the kitchen. the sound of the coffee machine went off. 

 “my coffee is going to get cold.” you whined. 

  “then cum faster and it’ll be lukewarm.” he panted as he started to go faster, moving your top half up and down the counter, the smell of sex and coffee wafted in the air. your noises got higher pitched, the noises of your body rubbing against the counter and slapping of bodies together.

  “fucking beautiful.” he panted, “god you’re beautiful. that’s why gojo and i wanted you so badly. an angel come to earth just for us. you know we love you right?” he moaned as the curl of pleasure in his gut tightened.

  “i know! i know you love me!” you whimpered as your legs shook from being up right and the crashing waves of pleasure beat down on you in a wet lust, your pussy slick allowing him to bully your deepest parts even harder. his grip tightened and you whined in lust at the pressure. even if they were rough when it came to sex, you took it like the champ you were. 

geto’s pace remained brutal and every loud moan that left your lips was accompanied by a harsh groan from your lover. bodies hitting together in ecstasy as the two of you fucked like rabbits in your home. 

  “that’s it, doll. fuck, you’re so beautiful. god, you’re so tight. fuck.’ he cursed as he felt himself grow closer to his orgasm. and from the tight, wet heat engulfing his cock he knew you were getting close to. 

you two continued to fuck in the kitchen, eventually geto having enough of the position and quickly pulling out and pulling you both down to the tiled floor where he sat you on his lap and started bouncing you on his cock lie a maniac. 

your head thrown back as your hands reached for his shoulders as you bounced along, the position hitting even deeper. battering against your g-spot as your mouth hung open in a symphony of moans and whines. 

  “i love this.” you panted.

  “and I love you.” he replied as he kissed your chest. his mouth found your nipple and started to suck on it as he continued to move you up and down. he found it cute that you tried to match his pace but failing to do so. don’t worry, let geto take care of it. 

soon you were feeling the highs of pleasure, your rolled back along with your eyes as you remained almost like a perfect sex toy on his cock. letting his cock bruise and mix your insides up with every hard thrust. you moans filled the air as the air got hotter with your activities. 

geto kept his eyes gazed up at you as he turned his attention to your other nipple, sucking and nipping on the skin. occasionally biting at the skin around it. leaving dark bruises that’ll last a few hours. 

  “beautiful, doll.” he growled as he panted against your sweaty flesh. with a few more hard thrusts up into you, you both came at the same time. the house echoed with the sound of your orgasmic moan.

he came as deep as he could inside of you and said a silent pray that it would take while you trembled like a leaf in post orgasmic bliss. he leaned his head down and softly kissed your stomach while you were riding out your high. he’ll take you every day if he had to until it took.

-

gojo got home mid afternoon, he found you and geto in bed. both naked after a few extra rounds in the softness of your king mattress. geto was awake and reading while you were fast asleep. cum and sweat drying on your naked body. 

his hand in your hair, only pulling away to turn the page. his eyes met gojo’s when he entered the room. the dark haired man pulled off his blindfold, finally able to relax for the rest of the day. 

the white haired man pulled off his shirt and changed into something more comfortable, grey sweats and fuzzy pink socks that you bought for him the last time you were in the city. 

he went over to geto’s side of the bed and kissed him on the cheek before he reached out and brushed strands of hair out of your eyes. he could see the cum stain on the corner of your mouth. he said to the other man, “wrong hole.”

geto’s sharp eyes looked to the man, “i can’t have her catch on. the plan is to play it off like nothing has changed. if we keep filing her full of cum, she might notice.”

gojo chuckled quietly, “that means she has more than two brain cells to rub together. she still hasn’t caught on why we never bring her to tokyo anymore.” 

geto’s gaze lingered to your sleeping form, “we didn’t keep her because she’s stupid you know. we could’ve brought any bimbo home with us if we flashed enough cash.”

  “none of them were rapier wielders. we wanted a bride that would give us strong children. she’s strong, but a little dumb.” gojo corrected.

-

it took two extra days before gojo had a day off, and like a man with a mission he had ever intention of slicking your inside with cum. he wanted so much inside of you that a poke to your belly would make it gush out. he was gross like that. he wanted to know that every last drop was inside of you. 

all the mini gojo’s were trying to fertilize those eggs of yours, if geto hadn’t already beaten him to it. but he wasn’t one to back down if the odds wee against him. so while you the three of you watched television, gojo rubbed your inner thigh. 

he liked when you wore short shorts around the house, but with winter like a looming cloud, you opted for longer relaxing pants. the kind with the stretchy waist, the kind that were easier to get into. 

your head rested on gojo’s shoulder as he slipped his hand into your pants. you let out a soft moan as his long fingers touched your clit. geto was on the other side of the couch fast asleep. 

he played with your clit over your panties before he whispered, “why don’t you get on my cock. but be quiet, suguru needs his rest.” before he pressed down on your sensitive spot which made you squeak. 

gojo loved the sight of you, so small next to him. a perfect woman for both him and geto. even if his lover had impregnated you already, he would just have his turn next. but he was certain that his swimmers were stronger than geto’s. 

he couldn’t wait until your belly become round, your breasts tender and leaky and your growing reliance on the two men. waddling around the house, struggling to do things because you’re in such a fragile state. but don’t worry your little head, gojo and geto would take care of you. 

after all, you were giving them the most precious gift of all. 

he helped you get your sweatpants off, and smiled at the sweet pink panties you were wearing. he playfully ran his finger across your covered slit before with both hands he pulled the underwear down to your ankles, where you got them off onto the floor. 

  “oh my.” he said quietly, “so beautiful.” he could see your hard nipples through your thin t-shirt and pinched one which caused you to make a semi-loud noise which made him shush you. 

slowly he got you onto his lap, and guided his cock through your wet folds, until you were seated on his cock. from his knowledge this was the second best position to breed someone. besides doggy, but he’ll get to that later.

you made a small noise and his large hand covered your mouth before he started to move his hips up inside of you. you tried to match his pace. unlike the coordinated movements of geto, gojo liked to throw you off with his thrusts. moving fast like a rabbit then slow down so you can feel every inch of his cock inside of you.

  “i love you.” he said.

  “i love you too.” your quiet voice muffled by his hand. 

his pace was slow at first. rolling of his hips up inside of you. his cock prodding and poking your innards. nudging against your sweet spot that made feeble little noises exit your mouth. 

  “beautiful.” he admired as he watched your eyes glaze over in lust. he started to pick up the pace, the squeaking of the couch didn’t wake geto which only encouraged the white haired man to go faster. 

geto let out a soft snore as you lifted your hips up and down on gojo’s cock. your hands on his shoulders for leverage as the dark haired man slept soundly beside the both of you. 

gojo let go of your mouth and held onto your hips to get a better angle. your both bounced on the couch and you bit your bottom lip to be quiet before the white haired man left a searing kiss on your lips to keep you silent.no need for your needy, whorish noises to wake up the other man. 

he had a mission to breed you, impregnate you. he often masturbated in the shower to the idea of you growing life. stoking your middle, being a good little wife to your two men. and becoming a protective mother for your children. you were the right woman for the role, no one else could have what you were getting. 

for a moment gojo grabbed you by the middle and started to force you further onto his cock. his thumbs rubbed your side, his eyes gazed down at your middle. praying he was going to be the one to watch it stick out over time. watching your belly button pop and the smile when you felt a kick. not the mention your milky breasts. he was going to have his fair share once it came in.

he continued to fuck you, and quickly you had to cover your mouth with both hands as you came around his cock for the first time. making it more slick and easier to fuck you with. he chuckled quietly as when you pulled your hand away your mouth was hung open and saliva was collecting at the tip of your tongue, dripping down on your clothed breasts. 

  “that’s it, doll. feel it. like the feeling of my cock inside of you. yeah, i know you do.” his voices were harsh whispers as you continued to ride him  you nodded as you breathing became heavy pants, your body moved on its own as you held onto him. the squeaking of the couch enthralled you as you bucked against him. your head felt fuzzy as you rode him.

you felt gojo’s gaze on you as your breasts jiggled in his face. he purred in delight like a cat that caught the canary. his hands went to your breasts and he added his own bites to the lingering ones that geto left. 

  “beautiful pair you have.” he remarked as he licked his top lip, “can’t get enough of you, doll.” deadly with a sword, but docile as a kitten in his lap. you were going to give him lovely babies. don’t worry, he’ll be your shadow if he has to. just don’t leave the house too often, him and geto will worry too much. 

your movements continued until you were clutching onto him tightly, your face in his hair and your breasts in his face. he groaned at the feeling of softness against his cheeks. 

your pants grew louder as you buckled your hips and slammed down on his cock. eyes rolled back as you covered your mouth again and orgasm with the same intensity as the first time. the clutch around gojo’s cock made fireworks go off in his brain. 

oh, he thought, that felt good.

  “i know you love me cock, i know it hits all the right places.” he purred a he watched you nod in orgasmic bliss. he knew how to pull your strings, it involved eight inches pushed inside of you. he might be a bit smaller than geto, but his thickness made up for that. 

he watched your breasts bounced as you moved on your own accord, he sat back and let the wash of pleasure come over him before he was biting his lip trying to hold back a loud moan. 

it wasn’t long before he was gripping his wrists behind his head, letting you ride him as he shot his seed inside of you. he bounced his hips up, pushing as far as it’ll go and praying the way that geto did that it took.

as he watched you slow down, he could see in your eyes that the wires in your brain weren’t crossing right in that moment. he smiled up at you, a glimmer in those blue eyes. 

  “ready for another round, doll?” he asked. 

in your blissed out state, you did nothing with your tongue out but nod. gojo smirked to himself, you were a dumb whore. addicted to men stronger than you who will breed you like the good girl you were. 

too good to be true. 

geto’s eyes opened to the sight of gojo fucking you in front of the television. your figure illuminated by the brightness of the screen. he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and you looked at him with an embarrassed expression. (as if he didn’t fuck you in the kitchen only a few days ago).

he chuckled a little, “get a room you too. or at least, let me join.” 

fo the rest of the afternoon a the snow piled outside your bedroom window, your body was shared between the two men. both driving their cocks deeper inside of you, in their own little competition to impregnate you without your knowledge. 

by the time you passed out on the pillows with both men book ending you, their still hard cocks pressed against you soft form, you were finally and definitely pregnant. large hands rubbed circles on your back and stomach as you snoozed in bed. 

you were bred, you were theirs. and there was no leaving.

-

it was now april, the snow had started to melt around the compound. gojo was sneaking through the house in search of his lovers. he could hear the thud of the bed near by but didn’t know which room they were in.

eventually he slid open one of the doors and found you and geto in bed. oh my, what a sight. a whorish sight to behold. there you were, working on geto’s cock with your hands on your swollen belly, breasts jiggling with the movement of your hips. geto was panting and you were letting out the sweetest moans. even at almost six months pregnant, you took their cocks like a champ and they adored their little pregnant doll in return. 

  “oh, suguru.” gojo said as he unzipped his pants, “you can’t keep hogging her, it’s not fair. i want to show my baby mama some love too. soon she’ll be too close to popping for us to have fun.” in his underwear he got on the bed behind you, both hands fondling your engorged tits. dribbles of pre-milk beaded at your dark nipples. 

  “don’t worry satoru. even if this baby is mine, we still have a whole house to fill with the best sorcerers in the world. all thanks to our little angel here.” he patted your baby bump before he leaned up and started to suck at your breasts, tongue tasting the creamy milk which made his cock twitch harder inside of you. 

you let out a strong moan as you came for the second time with geto’s cock inside of you and the both men said in unison, “good girl.” 

- xoxo, U・x・U

#getou suguru x you #getou suguru x y/n #geto x you #geto smut #geto x reader #gojo smut #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #satosugu x reader #satosugu smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #yandere gojo #yandere getou #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen #jujustu kaisen smut #pregnant reader

[midniiights-garden]

Your Eyes... They're like Diamonds. Fem!Reader x Mizu

Summary: You, the reader, stumble upon Mizu bathing. Instead of being distracted by the fact that she is very much naked, but by the dazzling view of her eyes.

Possible TWs!!: Nudity? idk if that counts as a trigger idk

Note: Mizu is called a man in the beginning.

~~~

Stumbling upon Mizu naked was defintely not on my agenda.

We had set up camp in a secluded area of the forest, finding a hot spring much to our relief. Mizu had sent me off to forage for food, claiming that 'he' was going to porperly set up the tents. So that's what I did, muttering about the cold and the snow and everything that a woman could possibly be complaining about.

When I returned I was met with the sight of the tents set up but Mizu nowhere to be found. So, naturally I begin to worry. Mizu was a capable warrior, but 'he' could still be ambushed. No one was perfect. So I scurry off towards the place I last saw Mizu, following a trail of footprints that most likely belonged to 'him'.

After following said trail for a while I reach what appears to be a natural hot spring. My eyes widen- this was a brilliant place to finally get clean. But that wasn't the point right now, I had to find Mizu.

Before I actually had the proper time to comprehend anything or even begin properly looking a familiar blade is pointed straight at me. Startled, I step backwards, falling onto my behind with a small 'oomph'.

"Mizu-!"

My trail of thought is cut off as I looked up. I realised right then two different, very important things. One: 'he' was not a he. Mizu was a girl. Very obviously so considering she was buck ass naked in front of me and had no dick. Secondly- she had stunningly pretty eyes. I had never gotten a proper look at her eyes as she always hid them but now that she was bare I could see them. My breath catches in my throat and I can't help but stare.

"You're eyes-" I begin, only to be promptly cut off by Mizu.

"Yeah? What, gonna insult me as well? Actually, wait what are you even doin-"

"-they're like diamonds," I finally blut out. "They're so... clear. Like the ocean around Japan or, well, diamonds."

Mizu seems taken aback by your blatant compliments. She sheaths her blade, stepping back slightly. Her brows are furrowed as she contemplates whether or not to believe you. She's had people compliment her to distract her before but... you seemed completely sincere. A little too sincere considering that from her perspective you hadn't stopped staring.

It was true, though. I hadn't managed to take my eyes off of her. She was so... beautiful. In all aspects. After seeing her as she was a lot of things finally made sense. Why she always had so many bandages on her, why she kept her neck hidden and so on. But wow... she was really the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

If it wasn't obvious to Mizu that I was a raging lesbian before, it sure as hell was now. I was looking at her as if she hung the stars in the sky for me to see. She was suddenly very aware that she was naked in front of you now. Mizu unsheathes her blade, pointing it at you once more.

"Don't even think of telling anyone about this," she growls, trying to mask her confusion with aggression.

"Please stab me-" I blurt out.

"...what?"

#mizu blue eye samurai #i love women #blue eye samurai #wlw #i love fictional characters #mizu #mizu x reader #mizu come home the kids miss you #x reader #mizu x you #reader insert #i love the traumatized sword lady

[monodreamin]

Rated: M (18+)

Genre: smut, fluff, one shot

Synopsis: after a bad break up you meet a handsome man in a dog park.  

Warnings: one ass smack, protected sex, cute nicknames and penetrative sex. 

Words: 3,049

Author’s note: I wanted to write something more soft and with autumn vibes. I just haven’t written in so long and wanted to put this out before winter. I mean it hasn’t snowed for me yet so I don't count it as winter yet lmao.

It was a cold crisp early autumn morning and you were walking your dog Jax, a Shiba Inu breed. Your ex boyfriend got you while on a trip to Japan. Your ex boyfriend left you with the dog he was yours anyway. The break up was a nasty one with your ex boyfriend. Ever made time with you he was either busy with work or hanging out with his loser friends you disliked so much.

Things weren’t always like this you once both loved each other very much after dating for 2 years decided to love in and build a life together you always wanted a dog so on a business trip to Japan your boyfriend got you Jax for your birthday you cried holding the small puppy in your arms the best birthday gift ever. 

Let’s be real, you felt like shit your boyfriend came over last night to pick up his stuff. He was moving in with his best friend, the one you hated because he was so far up your boyfriend’s ass honestly he should have dated him instead. 

When you and your ex boyfriend would get into heated fights  and he was anywhere nearby he was always picking a side and it was always his best friends of course even when he couldn’t be anymore wrong that was the bro code shit these men spoke of because it just didn’t make any sense to you. 

You were holding Jax's red leash as you entered the dog park. You could hear the fall leaves underneath your shoes crunch as you walked on the leaves that have fallen from the trees. 

You had a hand holding a hot coffee while the other held your dog’s leash tightly when suddenly a small black dog a mini pinscher breed it  jumped on top of your dog and it scared you a bit not knowing if they were playing or not you were paying to much attention to the two dogs in front of you that your hot coffee spilled all over your jeans. 

“FUCK” you yelled out feeling the coffeee seep through your pants burning your thigh. “I’m so sorry, is everything ok?” You heard a deep Aussie accent and as you looked up you saw the most beautiful man you ever came across. 

“Let me help you, I'm so sorry about that.” He rushed over with a stack of napkins handing them to you. You pressed the napkins to your thigh on the wet spot but your eyes never left his. 

“Lori come here” he lifted the dog up in his arms. Something about a man with a dog since your ex boyfriend wasn’t a dog person he just got you the dog because he thought it would keep you company and leave him be with his friends. 

“It’s ok I just got burned a bit by the coffee but I’ll be ok.” He opened his mouth in a gasp. 

“That is not ok let me make it up to you  I’ll get you a coffee. I’ll also get Lori here a new leash here since hers snapped. 

You watched the man be all lovey woth hos dog and it warned your heart instantly. “I can come with you if you don’t mind Jax here needs a new bowl.”

“Really? Well then let’s head over there now if you don’t mind” 

“So I know your dog’s name Lori and you know my dog Jax bit that is your name? My name is YN by the way.”

“My name is Christian I usually don’t let my dog loose I’m a responsible pet owner I promise but her leash unexpectedly broke and well she’s a playful dog and so when she saw the only other dog at the dog park she got a bit excited.”

“I see that it’s ok really.” You self consciously put a strand of your hair over your ear. 

“Well I’m a bit glad things happened the way they did I mean minus the hot coffee spilling on you.”

“So to the pet store then to the cafe to get my coffee? You owe me.” You joked.

“I’m a man of my word YN.” The both of you walked out the dog park making your way to the pet store. 

Christian looked through the dog leashes and decided on a black one you could see him testing out its strength. 

“I’m sure you’re good with that one.” You teased walking toward another aisle full of all types of pet bowls they had: stainless steel, ceramic, plastic, double bowls, elevated dog bowls the list went on and on.  

“Having a hard time picking one?” It was now Christian’s turn to tease you. 

“Well it’s much harder than picking from leashes I’ll tell you that.” 

“Ppft I digress.” Christian picked up a stainless steel double bowl and walked to the counter. 

You followed behind him “you needed a bowl too?”

“No, since I saw you having a difficult time I picked one.”

“That was nice of you thanks.” 

You both walk out and this time Lori is on her leash. Christian is still holding the brown paper bag with the bowl in it. 

“So the next stop is the cafe?” 

“Yes the cafe it is but let’s do outdoor seating since we have the dogs with us.”

“I mean that makes a lot of sense to me.” Christian smiles. 

The both of you walk two blocks down from the pet store and there is the cafe.

“Two… or should I say an outdoor table for four since we have our furry friends.” Christian says and we are seated by an older woman outside. 

“Are you ready to order?” The cute older lady says. 

“One iced americano and….” He looks at you for your order. 

“Hot coffee light and sweet three sugars please.” 

“Ok and I’ll bring some treats for the furry friends too.” The lady leaves. 

“She’s nice.” You say. 

“I feel like dog people are usually nice people.” Christian looks under the table at the two dogs who are lying peacefully on the ground. 

“I think we tired them out today.” Christians head pops back up from underneath the table. 

“I mean we walked everywhere maybe that’s why.”

“So tell me about yourself, where do you work? Do you have a boyfriend?” 

“ I work in marketing and no I don't. I had one but not anymore. You?” 

“ I work in the arts so painting and sculptures mostly. I don’t have a girlfriend I haven’t in a year.” 

“Oh that sounds so cool and why not? You’re very good looking and with that accent I’m sure you have no problems.” 

 Christian laughs when the older lady returns this time with a tray and two drinks she places the drinks on the table and gives the dogs treats. 

“Enjoy the drinks, anything else I can get you?” 

“No, we're done for now thank you so much .” You say. You both are sipping from your hot drinks. 

“When you truly love someone and have your heart broken it takes time to heal.” Christian continues the conversation. 

“I get it well I just got out of a serious relationship “

The both of you continue to talk about life and other things. You looked at your phone and you have been at the cafe for an hour now. 

“I should get going now, you know shower from the coffee that spilled on me earlier.”

“Let’s exchange phone numbers.” So the both of you did and you were on your way “I’ll walk you home if you don’t mind” Christian still held on to the paper bag he was such a gentleman. 

You and Christian walk along with your dogs. “Ok well this is me right here thank you for walking with me.” You say as you stand in front of your apartment building. 

“Let’s stay in touch.” He simply says and with that Lori  leads the way. You watch him for a bit then head upstairs to your apartment with Jax. 

When you reach your apartment you use the key to open your door to your surprise you see your ex boyfriend on the couch. 

“What are you doing here?” You were highly annoyed by his presence. 

“I got the last of my stuff and to return the key.” 

“Ok well thanks I won’t live here long anyway.” 

“Why not? And where were you?” Why did he care about you and what you were doing? He just needed to be on his way. 

Jax stood in front of you very protectively. 

“What does it matter to you? We aren’t even dating anymore.” 

“Are you seeing someone else?”

“You have no right to ask me that it’s none of your business.” You raised your voice and Jax started to bark at him. 

How dare this man be back at your apartment without a heads up and he had the nerve to be jealous when you broke up with him 2 weeks ago. 

“If you aren’t seeing someone it would be a simple question to answer but you can’t because you’re with someone else already I know it just tell me.” 

“You are sick and twisted, you know that? It is none of your concern what I do, who I say or who I don’t see now, get out of my apartment right now.” 

Jax barks got louder and your ex boyfriend got up from the couch throwing the key over your head. What a dick and he just reassured you that breaking up with him was the right thing to do. You wouldn’t ever go back to that. 

A month has passed since your break with your ex boyfriend and you had been texting Christian daily. It was cute flirty texts and getting to know each other better. Mostly you haven’t seen each other since the cafe date your break up felt so fresh you couldn’t move on just yet. 

You have been looking for new apartments because you thought moving from this old space you shared with your ex boyfriend would help in the moving on process. You reached out to a few realtors on some properties and waited for them to contact you for a viewing. 

You were getting ready for bed when Christian texted you again. You smiled as you read his text. He couldn't wait to see you tomorrow you replied and put your phone on the nightstand smiling to yourself you couldn’t wait to spend time with him again soon. 

You went to sleep and were awakened in the morning by your alarm clock. You hit the stop button getting up from your bed and you start to get ready for work where you will be counting down the minutes for when you’ll see Christian again. The day hasn’t even begun and you knew you would be dreading it. 

You finished your work for the day but acted as if you were busy with someone before you were given an extra task you didn’t want not today you had plans and you were excited for those plans you kept looking at the time hoping it would pass faster. 

It was 5:30 PM and you were clocking out. You had to rush to the train to get home to shower and get dressed for your… well not date you didn’t know what it was you and Christian haven’t discussed that yet and you both were just enjoying each other's company. Sometimes you would make out but before it got too intense, always stop yourself. You weren’t fully healed from your breakup and it didn’t feel right to have sex with another man in the apartment you once shared. 

Lucky you the train pulled up on the platform as soon as you finished climbing the stairs. You got on the train and saw a seat so you sat down. Today was your lucky day. Indeed, you checked your phone to see Christian had sent you a photo of him at his art studio. The man was gorgeous. He was so focused on his sculpture donning black frames to get a better look of his work. 

You almost missed your stop because you were  too enthralled with the photo. You grabbed your purse and rushed out before the doors could close. You had 3 blocks to walk before you were home to get ready and you were speed walking. You had a lot to do and you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You reach your building and let out a sigh of relief time to get pretty, you thought to yourself. You laid your clothes on the bed and stepped in the shower. You knew exactly what makeup and hair style you wanted. You got out the shower in your towel and started to prepare for… whatever this is. 

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror making sure everything was looking right then headed quickly out the door. You met up with Christian at the bowling alley and then after had sushi for dinner. You weren’t talkative and Christian seem to pick up on it. 

“Is everything alright?” He asked, popping some sushi into his mouth. 

“I’m sorry I’m so quiet, I'm just in my mind too much.”

“We’ll talk to me, what's on your mind right now darling?” 

Your heart thumped harder at the nickname. 

“Well…” you blushed, picking at your California roll with the chopsticks.

“Are you not into the date?”

There it goes he said it a date this is a date all your worries and headache went away with one simple word date you smiled 

“No, I love it and thanks for the date.” You drank the rest of the sake and started to eat and become more engaged with Christian now that he put your worries at ease. 

The date was done and you both had a great time and decided to head back to your place. Jax eagerly greeted Christian since they have become very much acquainted. 

“Hey Jax, did you miss Y/N? I’m sorry I kept her from you but she’s here now.” 

Jax jumped on your lap and you started to scratch his head. The both of you sat on the couch talking and taking turns petting Jax.  After a while Jax was asleep and you put him on the couch next to you. 

“I bet Lori misses you too.”

“My mom is taking care of her now.”

“Really why?”

“I’m leaving this weekend I have an art show. I was wondering if you would like to attend with me?”

“Of course I’m sure my mom won’t mind dog sitting for me.”

Christian leaned over kissing you unexpectedly but you reacted by kissing him back. The both of you were all each other on the sofa. 

“Let’s take this to my bedroom.” You said leading the way. The both of you went straight to the bed clothes were being removed and thrown on the floor. 

The both of you were naked and you laid in the middle of the bed Christian’s hands caressing your body. Something caught Christian’s eyes on your nightstand and you quickly knew what it was your vibrator that you had used earlier in the day you forgot to put it away. 

“Oh babe I see you were having fun without me.” He grabbed the vibrator turning it on. 

“I think I’ll have more fun with you now.”  You spread your legs giving him access to you. Christian smirked as he pressed the vibrator over your clit. 

“Is that ok?” He moved the vibrator in a circular motion. 

“Put it higher.” You bit your lip watching him work the vibrator on you. 

“I think you need more than a vibrator.” He said and you looked down at him and saw his erected cock. 

“You’re right about that I’m tired of my hands and vibrator.” 

“Well I can be of some assistance to you.” Christian got his pants from the floor and went in his pants pockets pulling out a condom. 

“I know you can.” You watched as he put the condom on then picked up the vibrator again placing it back on your clit this time with higher speed. 

You moaned at the high speed vibrating perfectly against your clit. Soon after Christian entered you slowly as he kept the vibrator pressed against you , the sensation of him in you stretching his walls and the vibrator would have you cumming in no time. 

“That feels so good Christian oh my God.” You threw your head back moaning louder. Christian picked up the pace, his hips slamming against yours as he put the vibrator on the highest speed. 

Your body felt like an explosion of sensation, a wave of relaxation and peace taking over your entire body shortly after. You couldn’t believe how quickly you orgasmed . I mean he was hot and extremely talented in bed. You have been deprived by a man for so long your body responded quickly to his. 

“Darling I know you didn’t cum that quick did you?” A very cocky grin played on his lips. 

“I’m I’m I’m so sorry I…. I…” you sounded like a broken toy repeated itself. 

“Oh no it’s ok I’m not done with you just yet babe. Now lay face down for me.” You did as you were told and he smacked your ass. Your legs were straight and hips slightly raised off the bed. Christian entered you from behind. He felt bigger than before in this position. 

Christian stroked deeper in you as he nibbled on your ear then softly bit your shoulder and proceeded to your neck. 

The passion filled through your veins as his pace quickened. Your pussy pulsating in his cock adding even more pleasure you both were close to reaching your high. 

“Fuck I need to get on the pill again so you can fuck me raw.” You looked back at him as you both reached your climax and he pulled the condom out tying it up and threw it in the trash can. 

“Well luckily you are my girlfriend now and  we have a lot more time to do more of that on our trip.”  He grabbed your face kissing your lips and you both cuddled on the bed. 

#christian yu one shot #christian yu smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #christian yu x reader #dpr ian one shot #dpr Ian smut

[multi-fandom-imagine]

«Dancing In The Snow || Mizu ||

A/n: She is my Obsession now

Prompts Used:

Dancing in the snow.

"What are you doing?” - “Making a snow angel.”

“You look so beautiful in the snow.”

Mizu never expected the words 'I want to see your home!' To come out of your mouth.

Hell, she never expected to go back to Japan and all honestly she thought she would die in London to one of those bastard's not get side tracked by you and yet here she was on a boat to Japan with you practically vibrating with excitement beside her she didn't even get a chance to speak with you as you leapt off the boat.

"Be careful!

Peering over your shoulder you gave her a bright smile. "I'm alway's careful!" Your hand took hold of her's as you tugged her along. "It's so beautiful here."

Mizu's nose wrinkled, she had to bite her tongue since she couldn't understand what you were seeing, everything just looked dead to her. "Are we seeing the same thing."

Stopping in your tracks you could hear the snow crunching from under your boots you turned to face the woman as your hands now cupping her cheeks as you beamed up at her. "It's beautiful because this is your home Mizu."

Shoulder's slumping, she gave you a crooked smile as she covered your hand with her own. "I really want to know who made you to be like this?"

Humming you titled your head to the side as you started to rock your body, Mizu dropped her hands to quickly grasp your hips to stop you from falling forward. "Like what?"

Leaning forward she rested her head against your own. "So sweet...kind...for not seeing me like a monster...for loving me."

Sighing, you let your fingers grasp the fabric of her top tightly in your hands. "That's such a silly thing to say Mizu. I love you because you make me happy, I love you because you make me feel safe. You're not a monster, you're my Mizu." You smiled placing a kiss to her nose as the woman blinked in surprise.

"Your Mizu huh?"

"Yup!So you're gonna have to deal with it."Grinning, you danced away from the woman as you turned your attention up to the sky. "Everything is so clean here...it's nothing like London." Taking a deep breath you sighed then held out your hand for the woman as you gave her a smile. "Dance with me?"

Parting her lip's, Mizu shook her head as she stepped towards you taking hold of your hand. She was alway's amazed by how soft your skin felt against yours. Giving you a small twirl an excited giggle left your lips. "You're a strange one."

You were still giggling as she spun you around in the snow. Something that she should hate, something that should drive her nuts she found herself loving, she loved your laugh, your eyes, she loved everything about you.

Sticking your tongue out, you let yourself fall back into the snow. "You still love me though."

"I do and I am starting to wonder if I should question my sanity." She stated as she hovered over you, brows raised. "What are you doing?”

Grinning, you started to move your arms and legs. You seem to be confusing the women even further with your movement.

“Making a snow angel.”

"A what?"

A small laugh escaped your lips as you held out your hand for her to take. "A snow angel."

Shaking her head in confusion she grasped your hand easily lifting you so your little creation won't be destroyed but that didn't stop you from being covered in snow. Why she may not understand most of your customs she would still stay by your side just like you did with the things she has shown you.

"It's cute." She titled her head, your smile was infectious. "But I must say." She let the back of her hand glide across your cheek brushing away some snow. “You look so beautiful in the snow.”

Nuzzling your face into Mizu's chest a soft sigh escaped your lips. "Thank you for bringing me here Mizu."

Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, she brushed more snow away. "Thank you for coming."

#drabbles #drabble #mizu x you #mizu x reader #mizu #blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #bes #bes mizu #mizu bes #bes x reader #bes x you

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Unconventional Flowers Event - January

Chocolate Cosmos Wedding Anniversary ft Gojo

A/N: Well hey ya'll! Look at me, actually following and meeting writing goals haha. So this was part of the Unconventional Flowers Event, written a little late for the month of January. All images have been credited at the bottom of the post.

Rating: E, fluffy

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Word Count: 1047

Your wedding anniversary fell on New Year’s Day. It was so typical of Gojo to hijack a holiday and make it about the two of you. And every year, Gojo always planned a beautiful vacation for your wedding anniversary; exotic locations, the most tropical islands, and cities filled with history and architecture. This worked perfectly since it meant you never had to host New Year’s Eve, and it gave you an excuse to go somewhere warm and avoid the chill of Japan’s winters. 

“Satoru.”

The white haired man looks at you as you call his name. “Yes y/n?”

“Have you heard about a chocolate cosmos flower? It apparently smells like real chocolate.”

Gojo knew you had an eye for unique flowers and moves over so that he can see your phone screen. 

“They’re quite pretty.”

“They are! And there’s fields and fields of them, but they can only be found in Mexico!” You look at your husband with wishful eyes. “Do you think we can make our anniversary trip to Mexico this year?”

“Of course we can, but, hang on…” Gojo scrolls through your phone with a long, slim, finger as he reads up on the flowers. “Baby, it looks like they only bloom in the summer.”

You look at where he’s reading, crestfallen. “Aw,” you say softly in disappointment. 

Seeing the look on your face, Gojo quickly offers, “We can make two trips this year baby. One in January and another say, around June?” His envelopes you in his large arms and hugs you tightly. 

“I’m sorry you can’t see them on our anniversary doll. If I could make the seasons change I would.”

This man does so much to make you happy so you just shake your head and snuggle into his warmth. “It’s ok. Yeah, we can go to Mexico in June.”

The disappointment fades quickly and you decide to not think about them again until later in the new year.  The both of you finally decide on another destination for your anniversary and you start planning the itinerary, but the flowers still lingered at the back of your mind for the next few months.

On New Year’s Eve, you close your packed suitcase, ready to catch a flight early next morning to Bali. You frown as you look at the time. Gojo had disappeared a few hours ago saying he had business to attend to but that he wouldn’t be too late. The Gojo estate was huge so it was anyone’s guess as to who had called him away. You glance outside your bedroom window, seeing the little sprinkles of snow starting to fall like powdered sugar. 

The sound of the door being opened distracts you and you look over your shoulder to see your husband, dressed warmly and with a huge grin on his face. “Y/n, you gotta come with me right now.”

“Satoru, it must be freezing outside. What’s so urgent that we can’t wait for the snow to stop falling?”

Gojo’s blue eyes were glittering like aquamarines. He looked like he was about to spill over with glee. “I can’t tell you yet. Just, please, get your coat and come with me.”

Intrigued by his behavior, you grab your winter coat and drag on a pair of boots before following him outside. A chilly breeze hits your face and you shiver, causing Gojo to wrap an arm tightly around you and draw you to his side. You wrap an arm around him and let him lead you along the grounds of the estate, wondering what he was so enthusiastic about. 

Eventually you are led into a part of the estate you had rarely set foot in except on occasion. Gojo looked practically giddy as he leads you through the area, finally stopping outside a covered greenhouse. You look at the structure, puzzled. Was this what he was so excited to show you? Gojo pulls the door open and ushers you inside.

“Quickly, quickly! Can’t let the cold air in here.” He shoves you along and swiftly shuts the door. It’s dark inside, but the temperature was quite hot and dry, contrasting the cold, wet, snow you had just walked in. The heat felt pleasant but as your senses started to become aware, you notice the atmosphere smelled like…

“Chocolate?” you ask curiously, taking a deep sniff. The greenhouse smelled like a bakery and you couldn’t understand why. You hear Gojo rustling behind you and after a few minutes of fumbling, he turns on the light. Your eyes grow wide. 

There in the middle of the greenhouse, stood rows upon rows of chocolate cosmos flowers. You cover your mouth with your hand as you take in the sight. The beautiful red velvet colored petals, the elegant way their stems supported them, rooted in perfect comfort right in the middle of the estate during the wintertime. You then notice all the pipes and additional machinery in the greenhouse, including equipment that measured the temperature and humidity. You turn to look at your husband who was observing your reaction. He grins widely and comes over to embrace you from behind.

“Satoru…how did you…?”

“I told a friend of mine that you really wanted to see chocolate cosmos on our wedding anniversary. They helped me set this up the day after we finalized the Bali trip.”

“That was months ago! How did I not find out about this?”

Gojo merely nuzzles your neck. “I know you never come here. It was the perfect part of the estate to set this up in.”

You feel tears gather in your eyes at his thoughtfulness, grasping his forearms.

“Satoru…they’re so beautiful. I love them.”

“Do you know what chocolate cosmos represent?” He asks quietly in your ear.

You shake your head no, unable to believe the sight in front of you. 

“They represent harmony and order. And believe me babe, the way you make compromises for me, the way you handle everything in our household, you’re a living example of what these flowers embody.”

You turn in his arms, pulling him into a tight hug, resting your head on his chest. No other gesture in the world could possibly come close to this. 

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Happy anniversary babe.”

image 1 , image 2

all dividers by @/ cafekitsune

@bleachbrainrotbro @grimmjowssoulmate-blog @harlekin6 @bleach-your-panties @sitarawrites

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #unconventional flowers event #vee writes #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagine #gojo satoru cuteness #husband gojo #jujutsu kaisen writing event

[kwanisms]

Under Your Skin 03 — s.changbin

playlist

➮ tattoo artist!Changbin × fem!Reader summary: Everything seemed to fall into place for Y/N. She had a loving boyfriend, her dream job, and the bestest friend in the universe. She never thought her life was missing something until she was introduced to Changbin, the town's newest tattoo artist who happens to be harboring an unimaginable secret. genres/themes/au: angst, fluff, smut, slow burn, “forbidden” love, strangers to lovers; supernatural themes; non idol au, tattoo artist au, werewolf au, supernatural au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alcohol consumption, established boyfriend!Joshua (please note this story does NOT include cheating)

series taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @x-woozi @candidupped @snow-pegasus @brownieracha @avyskai @i-say-choco-you-say-ice-cream @biribarabiribbaem @mchslut @hgema @oiminho @ughyeka @honey-lemon-goose @fixation-dump @sleeplessdawn @changbinnss @racha-enthusiast @sanjoongie @chillllllli @nattisbored @chrollosforehead @tai-loves-skz @labyrinthonmymind @spookyauthorspopmusictrash @mamieishere @mariesakamari @buttergumz @emithecharmer @binnies-donuts @v3n0mszn @kazzilla @jihanlovic @thezombiepandaleague @moonl1ghtmuse @woozarts @ateezkeepmysoul

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If you don't see your name, I cannot tag your blog or you've been removed for either being a minor or not having your age listed on your blog. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: here we have chapter 3. I lost some steam for this after being so strong in the beginning but I finally finished it. There isn't much to say other than here it is. I finished it lmao it's a slow burn so it'll take some time before we see any Changbin action. I hope you like it and as always, I love feedback and pls consider reblogging if you liked this chapter!

A huge thank you to Sky ☁️ for this entire story idea. Without her late night thoughts, this series wouldn’t even exist. Also a massive thank you to @icybluehosh for her professional input on all things tattoos. Thank you so much for reading this story and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

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𝗰𝗵 𝟬𝟯 - 𝗲𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁

wc: 16.1k «« previous || masterlist || next »»

Soft subtle jazz tones floated through the air as you worked, a soft but catchy beat causing you to bob your head as you tapped your foot.

You’d been working on this new set, a beautiful antique set from Japan. You had finished making the gold paste earlier and were currently applying it to the broken seams of the carafe while Mr. Serizawa worked in the woodshop.

An old couch had been brought into the shop in dire need of restoration. The foam was lumpy and lopsided, the upholstery was ripped and beyond salvaging, and one of the back legs was broken, having splintered off. 

He’d spent most of the previous day stripping the loveseat down to its basics, tossing the old upholstery and foam cushion. You didn’t have much time to watch, having finished painting the details on the English tea set which was drying in the safety of your cabinet.

The whirr of the sander had been drowned out long ago as you listened to the music Mr. Serizawa put on instead. He did it as a courtesy to your ears but you’d learned a long time ago how to tune out the noise while you worked. 

You held two pieces of ceramic together, joining them at their seam with glue and once it set, you placed them aside to finish drying before you could add the resin. It was tedious work but you loved it all the same. Your eyes wandered to the clock and you were surprised to see it was almost six pm.

You wiped your fingers on your apron as you stood up, grabbing a cloth from your table as you walked over to the door of the woodshop, covering your nose and mouth with the cloth.

You peered in where you saw your boss looking over his work, sanding the wooden surfaces of the couch smooth before applying the stain. You took his break in sanding to call out to him and get his attention.

“It’s almost six pm, Mr. Serizawa!”

He looked up and you had to fight the urge to laugh at his appearance. He had forgotten his goggles and was instead wearing a pair of black sports sunglasses with blue shift lenses and his respirator. He always wore a pair of coveralls when he worked on furniture to protect his clothes from dust, stain, paint, and resin. He looked quite silly.

“Is it really?” he asked, his voice muffled by the mask. You nodded as he lifted the sunglasses.

“You don’t need to stay to close up,” he said as he turned off and set aside the electric sander, stepping over the cord as he moved towards you. “I’ll close up tonight. Shinju is making pork belly for dinner so it will be ready by the time I close up shop,” he added. You smiled at the mention of his wife.

Ever since his call the other day, he reported her progress each day. It filled you with relief that Shinju was doing so well. “Are you sure?” you asked softly as he started to walk back over to the work desk. He nodded, waving you away. “Just make sure to put that finished set out for sale!” he said, pointing as you started to walk away.

You moved to your station and cleaned up your supplies and left the pieces to dry as you opened the cabinet housing the finished English set. Carefully, you gathered all the pieces before closing the door and heading to the front where you set the items on the counter and started to write up a description and figure out a price.

As you were placing the set on one of the shelves, the front door opened. You looked up, expecting a customer but were surprised to see your best friend entering, the soft jingle of the bell echoing around the shop.

“Be right with you!” you heard Mr. Serizawa’s voice from the back. “I’ve got it!” you called back and turned to Lilah who smiled at you as she shut the door. “Is it a bad time?” she asked which you shook your head as you turned back to the shelf and set up the description and price tag.

Lilah walked over to look at the newest addition, leaning in to see all the tiny details.

“You really have a knack for that,” she noted as you moved behind the counter to add the English set to the inventory roster, adding the price and date. “Thanks,” you replied as you set the book back under the counter and looked up at your best friend. She was dressed rather casually you noticed but there was something about her make up that had you second guessing your assumption.

“What’s up?” you asked as she looked at you expectantly. “Are you off?” she asked. You nodded, leaning forward and resting your elbows on the counter. “Good,” Lilah said leaning in as well. “Cause we’ve been invited to a house party.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes, stepping back and moving away from the counter. “Lilah,” you started.

She followed as you walked out from behind the counter and towards the curtain that blocked off the back of the shop. Lilah followed you, pushing the green curtain aside as she stepped into the backroom. “Come on, Y/N!” she whined. You turned to her and noticed Mr. Serizawa peering out from the woodshop door. “Is that Lilah?” he called.

Lilah turned to look over her shoulder. “Hi Mr. Serizawa,” she said politely, greeting him. His face lit up. “Oh good to see you!” he said with a smile. “Make her leave,” he added, nodding towards you as you sat back down behind your desk.

Lilah turned back to you, giving you a smirk as she waited for you to move.

You sighed heavily and stood back up, reaching behind to untie your apron.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay, Mr. Serizawa?” you called as you folded and set your apron aside. His head appeared in the doorway into the woodshop again.

“It’s Friday night,” he started. “Go have fun with your friends!”

Lilah smiled brightly, thanking him as she ushered you out of the backroom, grabbing your things hastily in an effort to get out of the building faster. You whined as she shoved you out the front door, allowing it to shut. You glanced back in time to see your boss locking the door and waving you off.

You allowed Lilah to steer you town the sidewalk, no doubt in the direction of the party. “Wait,” you stopped in your tracks, forcing her to halt as well. You glanced down at your outfit and looked back up at her. “You don’t want me to change?” you asked and she smiled, shaking her head.

“You look perfectly fine,” she replied, linking arms with you and starting off down the sidewalk again.

Compared to her outfit, you looked ready to run errands in your peach floral skirt and cream colored blouse. There’s no way Lilah would have deemed this party appropriate under normal circumstances. You stopped her again. “Why do you keep stopping?”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “What’s your deal?” you asked suddenly. “You’d never let me go to a party dressed in my grandma clothes,” you added, using her words, not yours.

Lilah rolled her eyes. “Will you stop,” she asked, taking your arm again. “You look cute right now,” she added as she steered you down the pavement to the end of the block. “It’s just a house party.” 

“And besides,” she continued. “You have a boyfriend, so it’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone!” You rolled your eyes as you made a turn at the end of the sidewalk and started down the street that led into a residential area. “And another reason is because we’d have to go to your place and then come all the way back here which would take longer,” she said as you neared the end of the block where you could hear heavy bass coming from one of the houses.

The true reason why she didn’t want you to go home and change. She wanted to save time.

“Are we going to see Chris?” you asked as you neared the house.

It was a medium craftsman style home with a nice sized front porch with the signature columns framing it. The front door was a rich red wood with glass windows at the top. The house was two stories with a small fenced in front yard and a one car driveway leading up to a small garage.

The front door opened as the two of you headed up the steps, a few partygoers exiting just before Lilah shoved you over the threshold.

Inside was like a scene out of a movie. The living room was just off the foyer with a staircase just in front of the door that led up to the second floor. To the left of the foyer was the dining room where the dining table had been moved aside and a beer pong table had been set up.

A crowd was gathered in the dining room watching the current match. Next to the staircase was a hallway that led all the way to the back of the house but you couldn’t see much as it was pretty crowded. Lilah dragged you into the crowd, bypassing the living room where a DJ had set up a table and all his equipment.

Lilah led you into an opening in the wall and into the kitchen.

You wove through the crowd until you reached the kitchen island where the drink station had been set up. Lilah was quick to pour you a drink despite your protesting. “It’s not that strong,” she told you over the bass. You lifted the cup to your lips and took a small sip, amused that she was right.

Lilah finished making her own drink before taking your hand and taking a large sip. She dragged you through the house, no doubt looking for Chris. You kept your wits about you, looking around as you dodged people and danced around them until you were back in the foyer, facing the dining room.

A few people had moved and you could now see on one end of the table was Chris and Minho. ‘They must be one of the teams,’ you told yourself as you sipped your drink. Lilah only waited a moment before dragging you into the mix and worming her way through the crowd until she reached Chris’ side as Minho aimed and bounced the ball in his hand into one of the cups on the opposite side.

Half the crowd erupted into cheers as Chris and Minho celebrated their small victory.

Chris turned from Minho and you watched as his eyes landed on Lilah and even you could see the way his expression changed. It was like no one else was in the room. It was the way Joshua used to look at you.

“Hey!” you heard him say, pulling Lilah into a hug. “You made it!”

You turned your attention to him as he spoke to you. “And you, too?” he asked, offering a hug which you accepted. Despite the empty cups in front of him, he smelled like cologne and not the alcohol you knew he’d consumed since before you even arrived.

“Yeah,” you replied. “She kidnapped me from work!” You nodded at Lilah who smiled sheepishly. Chris turned to look at Lilah, mimicking her grin. “I hope you don’t get in trouble for leaving work,” he replied. You shook your head as Lilah answered him.

“No, in fact, her boss practically kicked her out!”

Chris let out a laugh as he picked up his drink and downed the rest of it. He turned to Minho. “I’m gonna go get a refill,” he announced. Minho nodded nonchalantly before his eyes landed on you and you could have sworn you saw a small smile grace his features before he turned his attention on the opposing team. 

Lilah leaned into your frame to speak directly into your ear. “I’m gonna go help Chris,” she said before downing the rest of her drink and sending you a wink. And just like that, she left you alone.

You looked into your cup, wanting to avoid the gaze of practically everyone.

As you tried to act natural, you felt someone’s gaze on you and glanced up at the side across from Minho and Chris’ and felt your breath catch in your throat.

Changbin was standing with his friend, Jeongguk. They were the opposing team. Jeongguk was sporting a black oversized tee as he usually did but instead of his signature sweats you’d seen him in twice now, he was wearing a pair of jeans and some brown Timberlands.

Changbin on the other hand was dressed for the occasion, wearing a black graphic shirt with white geometric lines and black cargo pants fitted at the ankle and tucked into black combat boots and for the first time you’d ever seen, he was wearing black framed glasses. A pair of dog tags hung from the chain around his neck. Jeongguk was looking at Minho, a very cheeky smile on his lips as he pointed at Minho who glanced down and groaned at seeing a small white ball in one of the cups.

Changbin, however, had his eyes trained on you. His expression was unreadable but when he noticed you looking back, a small smile, almost a shy one, spread across his lips before he looked away. You looked away as well as Lilah and Chris returned with fresh drinks, laughing at some joke you hadn’t heard.

The party raged on around you and you downed your drink. Chris had offered to get you a refill but it was Minho who went instead, despite your protests. Your second drink dwindled quickly and soon you were venturing into the kitchen for something else to sip on.

The pong game had ended after Minho brought your second drink to you and the group had migrated into the kitchen nook, taking up empty seats around the table. Lilah had taken up residence on Chris’ lap and a girl whose name you didn’t know managed to steal Changbin’s lap and make it her spot.

You tried not to watch out of the corner of your eye as the two of them chatted animatedly about his tattoos and as he spoke, he pointed them out to her. You also tried not to pay attention to the way her hand rested on his bicep a little longer than necessary.

Changbin didn’t seem to mind the attention from what you could tell. As you tried to focus on anything else, you noticed in the living room Seungcheol who was leaning into and talking to… Joshua?

Your boyfriend laughed at something Seungcheol said before he caught your eye. He sent a smile your way and turned back to his friend. You managed to find something else to drink and were back at the table, ignoring the way the girl on Changbin’s lap was whispering into his ear.

You tried to focus on the conversation at hand.

“That place was so unsanitary, I’m glad they shut it down,” Ari said from her spot next to Minho who had his arm draped across the back of her chair. “It was an iconic staple!” Lilah argued, turning her head to look at Ari. The blonde rolled her eyes. “You got food poisoning from there like five times, Lil,” she reminded your best friend.

“When did you get food poisoning five times?” you interjected, drawing the attention of half the table.

The girl on Changbin’s lap finally seemed to notice you, giving you a once over before speaking.

“Uh, who the hell are you?” she demanded.

Your attention snapped to her.

You couldn’t focus on her face. Instead, you looked past her at Changbin.

He was looking at her with a look of unmistakable anger. He tapped her back, motioning for her to get up. She got up, still looking at you as he got up and excused himself from the table and disappeared into the crowd.

“She’s my best friend, Pax,” Lilah said sternly. Ari nodded, turning to look at Pax. “Don’t be a cunt, Paxton,” she added. You downed the rest of the liquid in your cup and excused yourself, feeling the overwhelming urge to run away and cry.

It had never bothered you before when some of Lilah’s friends asked who you were but when someone looked at you with such disdain, it really dug deep.

You returned to the kitchen island, glancing around. Joshua was nowhere in sight and you wondered briefly what he was up to. “Hey,” a voice said and you looked up. A man you’d never seen before was standing across from you at the island. “Keep walking buddy,” another voice said and you watched as Minho and Ari passed you, heading for the dance floor.

“Yeah,” Ari added. “She’s taken!”

The two of them disappeared into the dancing crowd, leaving you to the mercy of this talkative stranger.

“So you’re not single I take it?” he asked as you searched through the available drinks. You shook your head. “Nope,” you answered. He leaned in, watching you with brown eyes. “Then where’s your boyfriend?” he asked. You looked up to meet his gaze. 

He was decent looking and who knows. Maybe if you weren’t dating Joshua, you might have taken him up to one of the bedrooms. “He’s around here somewhere,” you replied, sifting through the small trough of ice on the counter, looking through the canned and bottled drinks.

“You should try the punch,” the guy said before winking and standing up straight. “Your boyfriend is a lucky man,” he added before bidding you a goodnight and walking away. Your eyes fell on the bowl of punch and deciding what the hell, you grabbed a clean cup and reached for the ladle.

You scooped a couple ladlefuls into your cup and placed the ladle back into the bowl before lifting the cup to your lips. Before you could take a sip, however, a hand grabbed the cup and tore it from your hand. You looked over as Changbin dumped the cup into the sink and tossed the cup before holding up an unopened can of soda.

You looked from the can up to his eyes and then took the can, offering a small thanks.

He gave you a small smile as you opened the can and took a sip, silence falling over the two of you.

“Lilah mentioned your tolerance,” he said just loud enough for you to hear him. You felt heat rise to your face so instead of speaking, you took another sip of the soda. Changbin watched you before speaking again. “And I’m pretty sure I saw someone spike the punch with something other than alcohol.”

You looked at him, brows raised. He was… looking out for you? You nodded silently, taking another sip of your soda before raising the can. “Thanks by the way,” you said and started to walk away. Changbin followed as you wove through the crowded kitchen.

“So, where did Paxton go?” you asked, noticing she was no longer seated at the table. Changbin glanced at the table before his gaze fell back on you. “Eh, she’s probably with someone else right now,” he answered. “To be honest, I wasn’t really interested in her.”

Changbin had no idea why he was even telling you this. It’s not like you cared about his dating life. Or so he thought. “What about Hana?” He looked up at you, the shock on his face must have shown because you continued to speak. “She seemed nice.” Changbin nodded slowly, still astonished you were even asking.

“Uh, she was,” he admitted. “But we didn’t really have that much in common. The attraction was mainly surface level,” he added. He let out a chuckle. “Actually, I’m pretty sure she only wanted to date me because she might get free tattoos.”

You looked up from your drink, clearly surprised by this admission. You looked away and said something under your breath, prompting him to ask you to say it again.

“If people want you to tattoo them, they should pay for it. Regardless if they’re dating you or work for you,” you replied. “Art is art and people need to remember that artists are people who deserve to be paid for their work.” If Changbin hadn’t already respected you as an artist he certainly did before.

“I couldn’t agree more,” he said more to himself than to you but you seemed to have heard him anyway. “Take my art for instance,” you said as he listened. “If I just gave it away to friends or my boyfriend or my family, the shop would never make any money off something I spent hours, even days, making.”

Changbin nodded as you continued. “Art is a valid career and people need to remember that,” you added, taking another sip of your soda. Changbin watched you briefly before contributing to the conversation. “I’m glad someone else feels the same way about art. A lot of people see art as a hobby and not a livelihood so they expect you to do it for free,” he said as he leaned against the counter.

“They expect you to do it for free because someone else did it for free,” you interjected, catching Changbin off guard. “Which is why I always tell people to never sell themselves short. Don’t do anything for free, especially if you’re good at it.” Changbin’s lips pulled into a half smile.

The conversation between the two of you dwindled as you both watched over the crowd until Changbin noticed you fanning yourself with your hand. “You alright?” Changbin asked, brow knitting together in concern. You forced a smile. “I’m just a little warm. There’s a lot of people here.”

Changbin tossed his empty container in the trash and stood up straight. “You wanna get some fresh air?” he asked and you stared back at him, contemplating your options. You could stay inside where it was really warm but where Joshua could see you or you could go outside with Changbin and cool off.

You hadn’t seen Joshua in a long while so you decided it wouldn’t hurt to go outside. It’s not like you were with a total stranger. Changbin was friends with Chris and if both Lilah and Chris trusted him, then you had no reason not to trust him either.

“Sure,” you replied finally, standing up straight and downing the rest of your soda. Changbin took the empty can from you and tossed it before letting you lead the way to the backdoor, squeezing through the crowded kitchen, into the hallway before finally stepping out into the cool night air.

The backyard was a decent size, fenced in with a privacy fence. The deck was large, accommodating several partygoers and an eight person hot tub that was currently being used. You skipped down the steps, feet landing on the grass. In the corner to your right was a small garden, a large oak tree stood, a rope swing with a wooden seat hung from one of the sturdier branches.

Changbin followed as you walked over to the swing, taking a seat as he stood nearby.

“This is a really nice place,” you noted, looking around the backyard. Changbin nodded. “Yeah,” he answered. “I’m not sure whose place it is,” he added with a chuckle. “Chris and Minho dragged us here,” he continued, moving to stand behind you.

“Yeah, me neither,” you replied, chuckling when you felt him gently push you. “You gonna push me?” you asked as you swayed lightly on the swing. Changbin chuckled, grabbing the rope to stop your momentum. “Sorry,” he said softly. “Old habits.”

You glanced back at him, meeting his gaze. You felt heat rise in your cheeks as you looked away. Changbin let go of the ropes and moved around to lean against the trunk of the tree. “So,” he started, hands in his pockets. “Is that one tea set still at the shop?” he asked.

You turned to look at him. “Which tea set?” you asked, cocking your head. “The kintsugi one,” he answered. You hesitated before answering. “Yeah,” you nodded. “It’s still there.” Changbin nodded silently. “Why do you ask?” you continued. Changbin fought the urge to smile.

“Jeongguk keeps talking about it. I think he really wants it but doesn’t want to admit it.”

You smiled, looking down at your knees. Changbin glanced down as well. He hadn’t said it earlier because he wasn’t sure if it was crossing a line but you looked really nice. The peach skirt with floral pattern complimented your skin and the cream colored flowy blouse looked good on your frame. Your makeup was subtle and different from almost any girl he normally associated with.

His eyes wandered of their own accord, moving down your legs to take in the shoes you wore. Beige colored mary jane style pumps with low heels completed the look and Changbin had to force himself to look away from your legs. If he stared any longer, you might think he was a creep.

“How many tattoos do you have?” you asked suddenly, pulling him from his thoughts. “Uh,” he hesitated, counting in his head. “A lot,” he finally answered with a chuckle. “Where are they?” you asked, leaning your head against the rope. “Well,” Changbin said, standing up straighter. “I have them almost everywhere,” he answered. “Arms, legs, chest, back,” he continued.

“Do you have full sleeves?” you asked, looking up at him. Your question was genuine and full of curiosity. Something he didn’t expect from you. He nodded. “I do,” he answered. “From the shoulder down to my wrists and a few hand tattoos,” he added. “Which I’m sure you’ve seen by this point,” he added with a chuckle, showing the tops of his hands to you. With a smile, you nodded slowly. 

“And your chest?” you asked. “Oh, just one,” he said softly, raising his hand to place it over his chest tattoo. “A tiger,” he explained. 

A smile grew on your face. “I have plans to add more,” he added. “Jeongguk has the sketches on his tablet.” You smiled at him as he spoke. “Do you have any tattoos?” he asked suddenly and you laughed loudly. “Sorry,” you said as your laughter subsided. “No,” you continued, shaking your head.

“Lilah is the tattooed one.”

Changbin nodded slowly. “Have you ever thought about getting one?” he asked and again you shook your head. “No,” you repeated. “It’s never really interested me before,” you added. Changbin watched as you swayed gently on the swing. “Do tattoos bother you?” he asked, tilting his head.

You looked up, meeting his gaze. “No,” he said softly. “They’re just tattoos,” you added. “Most people in this town are divided when it comes to them. Half the population has them and the other half doesn’t,” you explained. Changbin watched as you started to turn the swing, the rope twisting together above your head. “Some people think archaically,” you continued softly.

“They think people with tattoos are somehow inherently bad.”

Changbin snorted. He’d experienced his fair share of those kinds of people. “And what do you think?” he asked, watching as you lifted your feet and spun around on the swing. “I think tattoos are a lot like accessories only you can’t change them or take them off easily,” you started, putting a foot down to stop your momentum.

“They don’t change a person. You are who you are with or without them,” you continued. “It’s just art but instead of being on a canvas, your skin is the canvas.” Changbin stared at you with new found appreciation. You looked up to meet his gaze, a small smile gracing your features.

Changbin opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

“Y/N?” a voice called, making both of you look towards the source.

Changbin watched as your boyfriend, Joshua, walked towards the two of you. “Everything okay?” he asked, looking from Changbin to you and back. “Everything is fine,” you said, smiling at him. “We’ve just been talking,” you added. Joshua’s gaze shifted to Changbin again.

“Is that right?” he heard Joshua murmur. Either you didn’t hear Joshua or chose to ignore it, the smile on your face not faltering. “I’m heading home,” Joshua announced. “Would you like me to walk you home?” he asked, turning his gaze back to you. Changbin glanced at you as you got up from the swing.

You turned to face him. “Thank you for the talk,” you said, brushing off your skirt. Changbin nodded, smiling as you crossed the short distance where Joshua stood. “I’ll see you around,” you added, looking back over your shoulder at him. Changbin nodded. “See you around,” he said.

You took Joshua’s arm and allowed him to steer you towards the house as Changbin watched your figure disappear into the house. Jeongguk appeared moments later, jogging down the steps and walking over to where Changbin stood. “I was wondering where you’d gotten to,” he said.

Changbin shrugged. “You found me,” he joked. Jeongguk nodded, glancing back towards the house. “Were you out here with Y/N?” he asked, walking over and taking a seat on the swing. Changbin nodded silently. “Yeah,” he answered.

Jeongguk stared up at him, one of his brows raised. “It’s not like that,” Changbin said, rolling his eyes. “We were talking inside, she got hot so we came out here to cool off and get some fresh air.” Jeongguk nodded slowly, still giving Changbin a look. “Nothing happened,” Changbin clarified.

“Dude,” Jeongguk said, tattooed hands holding onto the rope. “She’s got a boyfriend.”

Changbin shrugged, gesturing wildly. “Nothing happened! We were talking!” Jeongguk nodded. “I know man. But you know how people are,” he replied. “They’re gonna talk. And you don’t want that kind of attention, trust me.” Changbin nodded, moving around behind Jeongguk and paused.

“You ready to go?” Jeongguk asked. “That Paxton chick was looking for you but I saw her making out with some dude in there like minutes before that.” Changbin nodded again, staring at Jeongguk’s back. “Yeah,” he said, pulling his hands from his pockets.

“I’m ready to go. I just need to do this first,” Changbin said. “Do what-YAH!”

Changbin pushed Jeongguk hard enough to cause him to slip off the wooden swing seat and onto the ground before he took off towards the house. “SEO CHANGBIN!” Jeongguk called as he clumsily got up and chased after him, Changbin giggling maniacally as he squeezed between the other partygoers.

“I’m heading out!” he called to Chris who looked up and nodded, waving at him with Lilah still perched on his lap. Changbin headed for the door as Jeongguk started to enter the kitchen. Changbin managed to make it out the front door and out onto the sidewalk as Jeongguk exited the house and made a beeline for him.

“Truce?” Changbin asked, backing away as his friend advanced on him. “Truce?!”

“No mercy,” Jeongguk said, trying to grab Changbin who managed to dodge and duck Jeongguk’s attempts before the older finally gave up. “You’re too small,” he whined as Changbin laughed, keeping pace with him as they walked away from the house.

“Too fast for you,” Changbin clarified. Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “Yeah sure,” he retorted.

“Too fast and short.”

Your walk with Joshua was mostly full of silence as you held onto his arm, thankful he matched your pace as you walked. The night was cool and the air crisp now that the sun had set. The sound of crickets still lingered as you walked through the mostly empty streets.

“So,” Joshua finally said, breaking the silence between you. “What were you doing outside with Changbin?” he asked. You looked at him, shrugging your shoulders. “We were just talking,” you answered. “We started talking inside the kitchen. He warned me that the punch bowl might have been spiked with something other than alcohol,” you added.

Joshua looked at you, eyes wide. “Really?” he asked. You nodded and continued to speak. “Yeah, so he gave me an unopened can of soda and then we went outside cause I was feeling a little warm. Too many bodies in one room,” you added. “And we just talked.”

“What did you talk about?” You looked up at Joshua again, trying to discern the look on his face. You couldn’t tell if he was being genuinely curious or if he was prying. Either way, you had nothing to hide from him. 

“We talked about his tattoos,” you answered. “He asked if I had any and I told him no. We also talked about art.” Joshua nodded as you walked, mulling over your words. “Art, huh?” he asked more to himself than to you. “You know, the last thing I want to do is make you feel like you’re a child incapable of making your own choices,” Joshua started and you suddenly felt as if you should have lied.

“But I don’t like the idea of you and him alone together,” he continued. You held back what you really wanted to say, choosing instead to smooth over it. “We weren’t alone,” you reminded him. “There were plenty of other people outside.”

Joshua looked at you as the two of you neared your apartment building. “A bunch of drunk people,” he said as you slowed to a stop at the base of the stairs. “Joshua,” you started, letting go of his arm and turning to face him. “I was fine. Chris and Lilah trust Changbin and I trust them, so why shouldn’t I trust Changbin?” you asked.

Joshua sighed, taking both your hands in his and pulled you closer. “I’m just looking out for you,” he replied, placing your arms around his waist and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “I don’t trust any man alone with you,” he added.

“Don’t trust them,” you started, pulling back to look up at him. “Or don’t trust me?”

Joshua clicked his tongue in mild annoyance, taking your face in his hands. “I don’t trust them,” he replied. “I trust you fully,” he added, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips. “Then,” you said as he pulled back. “Trust me to handle myself,” you continued.

“I’m not a damsel in distress that you have to save all the time,” you reminded him.

“I’ll see you Sunday,” you said, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “After church?” he asked, sounding hopeful. You shook your head. “I have to have dinner with my parents,” you explained. “I need to borrow one of their cars and the fee is dinner,” you added.

Joshua looked at you with a mix of concern and confusion.

“Why do you need to borrow one of their cars?” he asked. “I can take you anywhere you need to go, you know that,” he said softly, caressing your cheek. “I know,” you chuckled, taking one of his hands and pulling it away from your face. “But you work Monday,” you reminded him.

“What’s Monday?” he asked, cocking his head. “Mr. Serizawa asked me to go to the next town over and pick up Daniel,” you explained. “Lilah is going with me so I won’t be making the drive alone.” Joshua nodded and sighed. “I wish you’d told me sooner. I would have requested it off,” he replied.

You smiled at him. “It’s alright,” you responded, pulling his other hand from your cheek. “I’ll be okay,” you added. “I’m just going to the ferry station to pick him up and then coming straight back, but it will take most of the day,” you continued. “Besides, a little road trip with Lilah should be fun.”

Joshua smiled and nodded. “Well, I suppose it’ll be okay. I’ll see you when you get back then? We could grab dinner, maybe watch a movie at my place?” he said, holding onto your hand as you climbed one step. “Sure,” you said, looking back at him. “Perfect,” he replied.

“Get some sleep,” he said as you took another step. “Hey,” he called, gently tugging your hand and making you look at him. “I love you,” he said, stepping up onto the bottom step. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his, following his lead as his lips parted and his tongue slipped into your mouth.

“I love you, too,” you replied as you pulled back. “Get some sleep, babe,” he whispered, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and letting go of your hand as you climbed the rest of the steps. “Goodnight,” you called, looking back as you reached the door. “Night, babe,” he replied as you unlocked the door and entered the building.

You headed up the stairs to your door, unlocking and letting yourself into your apartment. Tomorrow you’d tackle your chores since Sunday you had church and Monday morning you’d be leaving to go pick up Daniel.

You dropped your purse on the counter and shrugged off your jacket, draping it over the back of one of the island barstools. You sat on the couch, bending over to remove your shoes and stood up to take them to the door, making sure the door was locked.

You headed to your bedroom, slowly stripping out of your clothes and changing into something more comfortable. You headed back into the kitchen to grab a snack as you had left work and gone straight to the party without eating dinner.

While you ate, you scrolled your social media feeds on your phone before finally turning off all the lights and settling down for bed, leaving your phone on the charger on your nightstand. It didn’t take long after climbing into bed for you to pass out.

═══════════════════════════════════════════

It had been a couple days since the party and you had gone to your parents’ house after church the following Sunday for dinner and to ask your father to borrow a car to pick up Daniel. You’d sat through the usual interrogation that occurred, asking about your job, your relationship, and somehow your parents managed to swing the conversation around to Lilah.

You did your best to answer the questions as vaguely as possible. After agreeing to spend the night at your mother’s request, the next morning, you headed out, stopping at your place before driving over to pick up Lilah.

As you pulled up to Lilah’s building, you slipped your phone out of your purse and typed out a quick message. You knew Lilah could sometimes take a moment to answer or even read her messages but as you looked up from your phone, you were surprised to see Lilah already walking towards you.

She waved as she got into view. You waved back, putting your phone in the holder on the dashboard as Lilah opened the door and got in. She smiled as he set her bag on the floorboard behind your seat and started to buckle her seatbelt as you put in the address for the ferry station.

“Hey,” Lilah said as the seatbelt clicked in place. “Hey,” you replied pressing the start button on your phone navigation. “How was dinner with your parents?” Lilah asked as you put the car in gear and pulled out of your parking space.

“It was… dinner with my parents,” you replied with a slight chuckle. “Did they grill you about your job again?” You nodded as you drove, following the road that led to the highway. “As usual,” you added. Lilah shook her head as she settled into her seat.

“And did they ask when you and Joshua are getting married?” You glanced at Lilah and your expression said everything. “Of course they did,” she scoffed as you continued to follow the signs for the highway. “Why do they always ask that? It’s not like you’re in a big rush to get married and settle down,” she added. “This isn’t the nineteen-fifties. You don’t need to be married with kids by the time you’re thirty.”

You hummed in agreement as you turned onto the highway and started to speed up to merge with traffic.

“You know how they are,” you replied. “I’m sure Joshua is getting the same treatment.”

Lilah snorted as she pulled out her phone and started fiddling with the bluetooth settings of the car.

“Yeah, well Joshua has always been a bit… old-fashioned.”

You glanced at your best friend as she focused on pairing her phone.

“And what does that make me?” you asked softly.

Lilah didn’t look up as her phone connected and she started playing her music. “You know how I feel about your relationship with Josh,” she said softly, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. You sighed softly as you changed lanes to go around a van crawling ahead of you. “I know,” you replied.

An awkward silence settled between you as Lilah turned the music up a bit.

She had always made her thoughts about Joshua known, especially after she and Seungcheol split and now that Joshua was starting to show more controlling tendencies. You understood and appreciated her concern but you knew you could handle your boyfriend when it came down to it.

“So,” you finally said, wanting to change the subject. “Tell me about this new tattoo you’re getting.”

It seemed to be the right call on your part, asking Lilah about tattoos always put her in a much better mood. She started off showing you pictures of the inspiration of the tattoo she was getting. She explained the details, even the minute ones. She finally showed you a drawing of the final design and explained the colors and shading that would be used.

“It sounds really cool,” you said as she put her phone back in the console. “I love the flowers.”

Lilah’s smile widened. “You wanna go with me to my appointment?” It wasn’t uncommon for Lilah to ask this and more than once you’d gone with her to get piercings but you’d never been to one of her tattoo appointments. “When is it?”

“Wednesday,” she replied, watching you as you contemplated. “I’m not off until six on Wednesday,” you explained. Lilah nodded. “It’s at seven,” she offered, hoping it might sway your decision. “It’ll take a few hours but you’re off on Thursdays,” she continued.

You felt the corners of your lips twitch as a smirk threatened to spread across your face. “I didn’t realize you had my schedule memorized,” you replied to which Lilah let out a laugh. “You’re my best friend,” she started as the song on the stereo changed. “Of course I know your schedule.”

You grimaced but said nothing. You thought about the conversation you’d had with Joshua the night of the party. He didn’t trust Changbin to be around you alone so surely being surrounded by people at the tattoo shop was fine.

Then again, you suspected it was really you Joshua didn’t trust though you couldn’t fathom why. You’d never so much as thought about another man since you started dating him. You’d never entertained the thought of cheating nor would you ever.

You were loyal.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?” Lilah’s voice snapped you out of it. You blinked rapidly and looked over at her quickly. “Sorry,” you replied. “What did you say?”

Lilah settled back against her seat. “I asked if you want to go with me to my appointment after you get off work,” she repeated. You nibbled on your bottom lip, checking your mirrors before changing lanes to go around yet another slow moving vehicle.

“Fine,” you finally answered, switching back into the lane in front of the truck. “I’ll go with you but I’m not getting anything and I expect you to respect that,” you added. Lilah nodded excitedly. “I’m just glad you’re going with me!” she said, grabbing her phone and changing the music.

“For moral support,” you explained. “That’s all.”

The first hour of the trip was spent listening to music, chatting. Lilah told you about the progress of her situation with Chris, keeping you up-to-date on all the juicy gossip among her friend group. You didn’t care much for gossip but you knew Lilah and how much she loved it so you let her carry on.

“Which reminds me,” she said as she finished telling you about Ari’s mishap at the party where she fell going up the steps with Minho. “Where did you go?” she asked. You glanced at her before looking back at the road. “When?” you asked.

“During the party,” Lilah asked. “Ari and Minho went upstairs to hook up in one of the many rooms,” she stated. “Hana spent the whole night outside in the hot tub, Paxton says she hooked up with Changbin--” you snorted, drawing her attention. “What?” she asked.

You glanced at her and then back at the road, fighting the urge to laugh. “She’s lying,” you replied.

Lilah eyed you suspiciously. “How do you know?” she asked. “I mean, I did see her making out with a guy that looked an awful lot like him,” she said, watching as you burst into laughter. “When does she say this hook up occurred?” you asked. Lilah shrugged. “I’m not sure. Probably around the time you disappeared.” You laughed again.

“She may have hooked up with a guy,” you said as you kept your eyes on the road. “But it certainly wasn’t Changbin,” you added. Lilah narrowed her eyes. “How do you know?” she asked. “Cause he was with me outside,” you replied.

Lilah’s jaw dropped.” You got in the hot tub in your skivvies and didn’t tell me?!” she yelled. You looked at her incredulously. “Okay first of all, never say skivvies again,” you started, laughing. “And second, no,” you continued. “Changbin stopped me from drinking the punch and gave me a can of soda and we started talking.”

Lilah watched you as you continued to explain. “And then I got warm inside the kitchen so we went outside to get some fresh air and continued our talk. We were over by the garden. And then Joshua came up and I left with him,” you explained.

“Changbin was with you the whole time?” Lilah asked and you nodded. “So unless he went back in and hooked up with her after, which I doubt because he told me he doesn’t even really like her, she’s either lying or she doesn’t remember who she really hooked up with.”

Lilah let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Changbin told you he doesn’t like her?” she asked, to which you nodded. “Yeah. He said he also doesn’t really like Hana,” you continued. Lilah sighed, leaning back in her seat. “Is there anyone he does like?” she wondered and you shrugged.

“Maybe stop trying to set him up with your friends and let him do his own thing?” you asked and Lilah clicked her tongue. “That’s no fun,” she pouted, crossing her arms before she gasped. “What?” you asked, looking around. “I have an amazing idea!” she said, bouncing in her seat.

You groaned. “I thought you saw something,” you whined. “Don’t do that gasping thing when I’m driving!” Lilah grimaced. “Sorry, but wait until you hear this idea!” she said, sitting forward. “I have the perfect match for Changbin!”

You turned to look at her. “We just talked about this Lilah!” you admonished. “Leave the poor man be!” Lilah shook her head. “I can’t. This pairing is just too perfect!” she said, pulling her phone out and scrolling through it. “I know this girl. I think she’d be perfect for him.”

You sighed as you continued to drive. ‘Poor Changbin.’

The next two hours were spent listening to music until you stopped at a small town to get coffee and something to eat now that you were both more awake and hungry. “Look at her,” Lilah said, showing you a picture of a really pretty girl with a pale complexion. She had split colored hair, half blonde and the other half black. 

In the picture her hair was curled in soft waves reaching her shoulders, half of it pulled up into a high ponytail with strands framing her face. She had makeup similar to the style Lilah wore, graphic liner, heavy blush on her cheeks and nose, highlighter, false lashes, but she differed in that she wore nude pink lip colors.

She was covered in ink, tattoos decorating her chest, shoulders, and arms. She had multiple nose piercings, an upper lip piercing, stretched ears and multiple cartilage piercings. She had a slim waist with curves. 

She wore a high waisted black pleated skirt with black fishnets and combat boots. The shirt was black with white stripes and a tiny green alien peeking out of a small pocket on the chest tucked into the skirt. Half her curled hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, strands falling and framing her face.

“She’s pretty,” you noted with a nod. Lilah swiped to another picture. “She’s an instagram model too,” she explained, showing you the next picture. It was of the same girl kneeling on a bed, wearing a high waisted black thong with lace and a cropped shirt with a Mario star on it. She had extensions in her hair, part of it pulled up into twintails, the rest cascading in waves.

She wore a pink headset with kitty ears, white thigh highs with pink bows and in her hands was a gaming controller. You said nothing, instead nodding as you waited for your food to be ready. “She’s really cool,” Lilah said, fawning over her phone.

You watched as she scrolled a bit more and showed you a few more pictures before asking for your opinion. “Do you think he’d like her?” she asked. You looked at your best friend. “Why are you asking me?” you asked. Lilah shrugged. “I thought maybe since he told you what he didn’t like, he might have told you what he does like.” You snorted, shaking your head.

“Most certainly not,” you replied. Lilah sighed, returning her attention to her phone. “I’ll ask her if she’s interested anyway.” You said nothing again, instead focusing on the barista as she bagged up your food and grabbed your coffees. 

Back in the car, you ate your sandwich quickly while Lilah fiddled with her phone, exchanging messages. “She’s interested!” she said excitedly. “She wants me to send a picture of Changbin. Should I just take one from his insta?” she asked, looking up at you.

You shrugged, wanting to stay out of it. “Do you have any pictures of him on your phone?” you asked. Lilah stared at you unblinkingly. “Why would I have pictures of him on my phone?” she asked. You shrugged again. Lilah fiddled with her phone. “I think Chris follows him,” she murmured, searching through Chris’ follow list.

You started the engine and pulled out of your parking space, pulling onto the road and making your way back to the highway as Lilah searched for Changbin’s account. “Shit, it’s private,” she hissed. “And that’s bad?” you asked as Lilah grabbed your phone, unlocking it with your passcode.

“How do you know my passcode?” you asked incredulously. “It’s not like it’s a secret,” she said, looking up at you. “It’s your dead dog’s birthday,” she reminded you. “Isn’t yours Chris’ birthday?” you asked, eyeing her. She stuck her tongue out at you as she pulled up instagram, going into the search bar.

“What are you doing?” you asked, trying to keep your eyes on the road and on her at the same time. “I’m gonna follow him from your account,” she said nonchalantly. “What?” you shouted, reaching for your phone. “Hey, hey!” she shouted, shielding your phone from you.

“Eyes on the road, maniac!” she added, pointing at the road. “Why can’t you follow him from your account?” you asked angrily. “You follow his tattoo page, don’t you? And you follow the shop!” Lilah ignored you, typing in Changbin’s name. “I don’t follow either!” you added.

“I know,” she said softly. “That’s why I’m making you follow them all right now,” she added with a mischievous grin. You tried to snatch your phone again only for her to pull away. “You’ll crash if you keep doing that,” she retorted.

You checked the mirrors before pulling over and parking the car.

“What are you--”

You reached over and snatched your phone, looking at the screen. “You’re literally insane,” you said as you made sure she wasn’t able to follow any of the accounts through your phone before opening your settings and changing your passcode, shielding the screen from her.

“Y/N!” Lilah pouted as you locked your phone and set it in the console. “Use your own account,” you replied, putting the car back in drive and slowly pulling forward to pull back onto the highway. Lilah grumbled as she grabbed her phone and tapped away on the screen.

The next couple hours went by without issue, mostly listening to music as Lilah texted back and forth with a few people. “He followed me back,” Lilah announced as you followed the signs for the ferry station. You were getting close to the coastal town. “He doesn’t have many pictures on here,” she said as she scrolled. “Which one should I send?” she asked as you got off the highway and came to a stop at the light.

You glanced at the phone and she showed two different pictures.

The first looked more recent. It looked as though he’d just woken up, his hair was messy and curly. ‘Is that what his hair naturally looks like?’ you wondered silently. His tattoos were visible and he was wearing his signature fitted black tee shirt.

The other picture was older. His hair was a completely different color. It almost didn’t look like him. His hair was styled and he wore a black suit with a red tie. He looked amazing. His hand tattoos were missing and you wondered how old the photo was.

“The first one,” you answered. “It looks more recent,” you added. Lilah nodded, looking back down as she took a screenshot of the picture and you waited for the light to change. The drive through the sleepy seaside town was quiet, most people were at work or school as you drove, winding down the side of the mountain. In the distance you could see the ocean, waves crashing into the sandy beach.

You pulled into the ferry station parking lot with some time to kill and parked the car. “Let’s go get some pictures,” Lilah said excitedly. You grabbed your jacket from the backseat and got out, locking the doors and pulling on your jacket as Lilah pulled her hood up over her head and shoved her hands in her pockets. You followed behind her, checking the time on your phone before pocketing the device and rushing to catch up with your best friend.

The look out over the ocean gave a spectacular view and you could see an island not far from shore. “You want to go down to the shore?” Lilah asked over the wind. You nodded and followed her down the steps leading to the shore. The sand was unlike what you expected. Less like sand and more like stones. Pebbles. You were glad you chose to wear sneakers and were sure Lilah was faring just as well in her boots. “Look!” Lilah called, hurrying over to a spot and kneeling down.

You followed her and leaned over her back as she unearthed a rather large piece of sea glass. “Whoa,” you said as she lifted it to reveal another piece under it. You reached down, grabbing the second piece, revealing yet another piece of sea glass.

“It’s like a rabbit hole,” you murmured, picking up the other piece. “These are so cool,” Lilah said, looking over the piece in her hands. You looked down at it. She held a black piece with tiny white flecks from who knows how many years spent in the sea water.

It was shaped like a shark fin, smooth and rounded at all three points and flat. “I wonder what this is,” Lilah said, flipping it over to look at the other side. “It’s glass,” you pointed out. Lilah looked up at the pieces in your hands. A bright pink and a deep purple, both frosted like hers.

“What kind of glass is black?” she asked, looking back down at hers. You held out your hand, lifting to inspect the glass she placed in your palm. “It’s probably from a really old bottle,” you started, handing her the pink and purple to inspect.

You held the black up towards the sky, tilting and turning it. “It’s green,” you stated. “Along the edges, it’s hard to see without the light,” you explained. “It’s probably from really old beer or gin bottles,” you added, handing it back to her, taking the pink and purple from her.

“What about those?” Lilah asked, nodding at your hands. “The pink is probably from the Great Depression era,” you noted. “Pink glassware was common during that time period because it was decorative but extremely cheap,” you explained, looking at the pink piece.

“The purple,” you began, shifting your gaze to it. It was a deep rich purple color, frosted just like the others due to exposure and time spent in the ocean. “Probably came from purple glass. Between 1840 and 1880, hair tonics were commonly sold in amethyst bottles,” you explained, turning the piece over. “But it could very well be glass made with manganese.”

Lilah stared at you as you looked over the glass. “What’s that?” she asked. “Venetian glassmakers discovered they could neutralize the color caused by imperfections in glass by adding manganese to the sand and create clear glass,” you explained, handing over the purple piece.

“But over time, the glass will turn purple when exposed to ultraviolet rays,” you continued, looking down at the ground, searching for more glass. “I’ve heard sea glass glows under a black light,” Lilah said, looking up to watch you explore. “Is that true?” she asked.

You shook your head, pushing some pebbles aside and unearthing another black piece of sea glass. “No,” you replied. “Uranium glass glows under black light,” you replied, digging out the piece and holding it up. ‘More green edges,’ you noted.

“Uranium glass has uranium added to the glass before melting,” you explained. “It produces green glass that then glows under a black light,” you continued. “That’s so cool,” Lilah said as she watched you dig in the pebbles. “How do you know all this?” she asked.

“We’ve gotten a lot of different glass types in the shop,” you said, looking up. “Including an entire tea set made from uranium glass,” you added. You managed to find a few more pieces of sea glass ranging from blue to clear but no more purple or pink.

You stood up, brushing your hands off as a horn sounded in the distance and both you and Lilah turned to see the ferry in the distance. “Let’s go,” you said softly, leading the way back to the steps. You and Lilah had found a decent amount of sea glass and pocketed it to take back home.

Back up at the station, you and Lilah huddled close to the building to avoid the wind that had picked up. “Fuck! I should have worn sweat,” you cursed and Lilah laughed, huddling closer. “Would they hurry up and disembark already?” she snapped.

Finally it seemed like the wait was over and the gates opened, passengers making their way off the boat. This early in the morning you didn’t expect so many passengers but it sort of made sense. People making the earliest commute possible.

You spotted Daniel and waved, calling out to him. He spotted you and a smile spread across his face, weaving through the other passengers until he reached you, pulling you into a hug. He’d grown taller, nearing almost six feet. “Jii-chan said you were coming so I was really excited to see you,” he said as he let you go. “You got taller,” you noted, making him laugh.

He turned, noticing Lilah. “Lilah?” he asked, almost shocked to see her. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he added, pulling her into a hug as well. “Y/N asked me to keep her company on the drive out here,” she replied. “And she annoyed me the whole way here,” you added, dodging Lilah’s attempt to slap your arm. 

Daniel was amused by your antics as he followed you two back to the car, listening and laughing as you bickered back and forth. Once his luggage was put in the trunk and the three of you inside, strapped in, you put the car in drive and pulled carefully out of the parking lot.

You asked Daniel about his time in Busan and Jeju.

“It was amazing!” he said excitedly. “We went to the aquarium in Busan and hung out on the beach most of the time,” he explained, going into further detail, describing the beach. “And then in Jeju, we went to their aquarium and we also went hiking. So much hiking!”

You smiled as he went on. “And then, since we finished our itinerary early, we took the ferry to Japan,” he continued. You nodded, glancing up in the mirror at him. “That would explain why your grandfather asked me to pick you up at the ferry station and not the airport or bus station,” you mused.

“Tell me about Japan,” Lilah said, turning in her seat to look at Daniel.

You listened to him tell his stories of Fukuoka and the surrounding areas. He talked about the food, what the group did, and even showed pictures on his phone of him and his friends.

“It sounds like you had a really good time,” you said after listening to him go on for almost an hour. He nodded as Lilah took his phone to look at a photo of him and his friends. She swiped to the next photo and let out a yell. Daniel noticed and tried to grab his phone but Lilah held it out of his reach.

“Who is this?” she asked, looking at a picture of just Daniel and a girl. She showed you. It was very pretty girl you recognized him meeting with for study sessions. “Is that Kari?” you asked, taking your eyes off the road briefly to get a better look.

“Give it back,” Daniel protested, trying to grab his phone from Lilah. “She’s cute!” Lilah remarked as she swiped through a few more photos of Daniel and Kari. “Will you stop it!” Daniel grumbled, fighting to regain control of his phone but Lilah swiped again and gasped.

“What?” you asked, glancing between her and the road. She showed you the phone and it was a picture of the two, Daniel was taking the photo and Kari had her head turned kissing his cheek. “Daniel!” you said, sounding scandalized. He groaned, leaning back in his seat and pulled his beanie down over his face.

“Dannie’s got a girlfriend!” Lilah said in a singsong voice as she looked at more photos. Daniel groaned in embarrassment and you chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry, Dannie,” you said, making him peek out from under his hat. “I won’t tell your grandparents.”

He sat up, readjusting his beanie and waited, watching Lilah before he made his move, snatching his phone back. “Yah! I was looking at pictures of you and your girlfriend,” she whined. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he clarified. “We haven’t even been on a date.”

“Then change that,” Lilah said, turning to look back at him. “Ask her out. Go to the bowling alley or something else. Something you kids find fun these days.” You glanced at her. “You kids?” you asked her and she shrugged. “He’s in high school,” you added. “He’s not twelve.”

“Take her to the fall festival,” you suggested. “That’s coming up soon.” Daniel shook his head, not looking up. “I can’t ask her out,” he murmured. “And why the hell not?” Lilah asked, turning to look back at him. “Because,” Daniel said softly. “You saw her,” he added. “She’s gorgeous.”

Lilah scoffed and you snapped your fingers. “Look up,” you said. “Look at me Daniel.”

He looked up, meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Don’t do that to yourself. You are an extremely intelligent, funny, and good looking guy. Kari would be an idiot to say no to you,” you said in a firm but gentle tone. “And if she says no, I’ll kick her butt,” Lilah added. “She’s a minor,” you said incredulously. “You can’t beat up a minor, Lilah!”

Daniel smiled as the two of you bickered. “Thanks, you two,” he said softly.

The next hour passed quickly as Daniel told Lilah more about Japan and what Fukuoka was like. You listened, keeping your eyes on the road as you drove. Another hour in, you glanced down at the gas gauge and sighed. “I gotta make a stop,” you announced, pulling off the highway at the next exit.

“We’re running low on gas.”

Daniel and Lilah continued to chat as you filled up, both of them heading into the convenience store. While the pump worked, you pulled out your phone, checking your notifications. You had a couple texts from Joshua, asking how the trip was going.

You texted him back before noticing another notification from Instagram. You had a new follower and opened the app. Your eyes widened as you read the username, tapping on the profile and your lips parted in a soft gasp. Changbin had found and followed your account.

Your thumb hovered over the follow back button before tapping it quickly as Lilah and Daniel headed back to the car. You pocketed your phone as the pump switched off and took the nozzle out of the tank, placing it back in the cradle.

Getting back in the car, you set your phone in the console, buckling your seatbelt and Lilah and Daniel divided up their snack haul. “We got you something to drink and some snacks as well,” Daniel said as he pulled a bottle of soda out of the bag and set it in one of the cup holders.

“Thanks,” you said softly as you started the engine and pulled out of the gas station parking lot, following the signs to get back on the highway.

As you drove, you tuned out Lilah and Daniel’s conversation, instead mulling over the notification you’d gotten from Instagram about Changbin’s personal account. How did he find you? Had Lilah gotten through before you grabbed your phone?

You glanced over at your best friend, meeting her gaze. “What?” she asked softly.

You shook your head and looked straight ahead. “What?” Lilah asked again. It took a couple more minutes for Lilah to pry it out of you.

“Did you like one of Changbin’s pictures on my account or something earlier?” you asked softly. Lilah’s confused expression morphed into one of excitement. “No,” she answered. “Why? Did he follow you?” she asked excitedly. You narrowed your eyes, glaring at her.

“What did you do?” you hissed, not noticing how Daniel leaned forward between the two of you.

“Who is Changbin?” he asked suddenly, making both you and Lilah jump. You glanced at his curious expression. “No one,” you said quickly, hoping Lilah would drop the subject but when you looked at her, a mischievous grin had taken up residence on her face.

“Don’t,” you warned her. “I just want to know why he followed me.”

Lilah laughed excitedly, grabbing your phone. “What did you change your passcode to?” she asked as she stared at the screen. “It’s none of your damn business,” you retorted, snatching your phone from her hands only for her to pout at you.

“I just need screenshots of his pictures to send to Riley,” she grumbled as you set your phone in the pocket on the driver’s side door, far from her reach. “I told you,” you replied as you continued to drive. “Follow him from your own account.”

“And what would Chris think?” Lilah asked, crossing her arms. “Uh, that’s you’re following your tattoo artist on instagram who you also happen to be friends with?” you offered. Lilah scoffed. “You’re no fun,” she mumbled as she sank down in her seat.

“Is someone going to explain what’s going on?” Daniel asked, making you and Lilah glance back at him. You’d partially forgotten he was there as you and Lilah bickered about Changbin and his instagram account. “Who is Changbin?”

Lilah turned to look back at him, turning in her seat. “He’s new to Sejong,” Lilah explained. “He just moved here and opened a tattoo shop on Market,” she continued. “And why are you following his instagram from Y/N’s account?” Daniel asked slowly.

“Because I need pictures of him to send to this girl I know who is interested in him!”

You sighed as you followed the signs for Sejong. “Despite the fact that he didn’t like either girl you threw at him before,” you interjected. “Changbin isn’t a wall that you throw girls at like pasta and expect them to stick. Let the poor guy settle into Sejong, let him figure things out for himself.”

Lilah’s lips curled up into a devious smirk. “You like him, don’t you?” she asked. Your eyes widened and you turned to look back at her. “What?” you asked incredulously. “I knew it!” Lilah said excitedly, sitting up quickly. “You like him!” Daniel looked between you and Lilah quickly, eyes wide.

“Lilah,” you said sternly. “I have a boyfriend.” Lilah rolled her eyes. “Yeah, a shit one,” she murmured. You reached out, smacking her arm. “Ow!” she exclaimed, holding the spot you hit. “Don’t start that shit again,” you snapped. “Joshua isn’t perfect,” you continued. “None of us are.”

You stared at her pointedly. Lilah conceded and sunk back into her seat. “Fine,” she groaned. “So, this Changbin guy,” Daniel asked, leaning forward, breaking the tension. “What kind of ink does he do?”

The rest of the ride, Lilah showed Daniel pictures on Changbin’s professional instagram, showing off his previous work and explaining the tattoo she commissioned from him. You listened as you drove. The sun had started to set as you reached the outskirts of Sejong, driving through town and heading for the Serizawa’s house. Daniel had wanted to come back and stay a few days with his grandparents before moving back into the apartment above the shop.

“Thank you so much again,” Daniel said as he leaned down to peer into your window, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “It was good to see you, Lilah,” he added. Your best friend leaned forward, smiling at him. “You too, Danny,” she replied. Daniel turned his attention back to you.

“I’ll see you at the shop,” he said and you nodded. “See you later,” you replied as he waved and headed for the front door of his grandparents’ house. You waited, watching to make sure he made it in safely before driving off and making your way to Lilah’s building. The ride was silent as you followed the memorized route.

“I’m sorry,” Lilah said, her soft voice punctuating the silence. “For what I said about Josh,” she clarified. “I know I should stay out of it,” she continued. “But I can’t help it. Not when I see how he treats you from the outside.” You pulled to a stop outside her building.

“He’s too controlling,” she added. “I know you care about me,” you started, turning to look at her. “But please trust me when I say I can handle it. I know how to handle my boyfriend,” you added. “If I need help, you will be the first to know.” Lilah nodded, unbuckling her seatbelt and leaning over the center console to pull you into a tight hug.

“You’re still coming to my tattoo appointment, right?” she asked as she pulled back, making sure to grab her bag and things from the cupholders. You nodded. “Of course,” you replied as she opened the door and got out, leaning over to look at you through the open window. “You promise?” she asked.

You nodded again with a smile.

“I promise.”

═══════════════════════════════════════════

Wednesday came much faster than you were expecting. Lilah had asked the days leading up to the appointment if you were still going with her and you kept reassuring her you’d go. It wasn’t like you hadn’t attended her appointments before, you had. So why she was so adamant about you attending this one was lost on you. Until you showed up to White Lotus Studio.

Lilah had insisted on you meeting her at the shop instead of going there together. You didn’t really question it since you only had an hour after getting off work to go home, change and meet her. You didn’t really need to change but you preferred to.

The walk to the shop didn’t take long and soon you were walking up to the door, stepping aside as a couple of patrons exited, chatting excitedly about whatever work they’d gotten done. Lilah was seated inside on one of the black armchairs you’d sold Changbin as you crossed the threshold into the building. It seemed to be a busy day, each station was occupied.

Minho was sitting on a black stool, working on the leg of a man you’d seen briefly at some of the parties Lilah brought you to. In the same space, Chris was explaining jewelry options to a girl who was getting her ears pierced for the first time, her friends crowded around her but staring at Chris instead of the jewelry.

You walked over to Lilah who was talking to Hana and looked up in time to catch a glimpse of Changbin through a glass window. He was talking to a client, no doubt explaining something related to the tattoo he’d just done as he wrapped it. Your eyes lingered a moment longer as you really studied him.

You’d only ever seen him outside the studio in social settings. Parties, the club, and your work. You never saw him in his own element before. He looked much more confident in this setting.

You tore your gaze away before he caught you staring and smiled as you moved to sit on the ottoman across from Lilah. Your best friend smiled widely, leaning forward to pull you into an awkward hug. “You made it!” she said happily. You chuckled as she let go and nodded. “I said I would,” you replied.

You turned to Hana, nodding politely. Hana returned the gesture and then went back to her phone, thumbs tapping on the screen. You took the lapse in conversation to look around the shop. It was a completely different space from what you remembered. The walls were mostly an off-white color except for a bump out that was painted entirely black with a massive tiger painted.

The decal was impressive and looked imposing and intimidating, as if the tiger was leaping from the wall. Whoever had painted it was incredibly talented. Behind Lilah was a counter, behind which Paxton stood. She threw a dirty look your way but you ignored it. You were here for Lilah and if Paxton didn’t like it, that wasn’t your fault.

The front of the counter was glass, showing off a vast array of jewelry for all types of piercings. Bright lights mounted to the underside of the counter top made the gems in some of the pieces sparkle. You looked away at the black velvet sofa. You wondered where Changbin had gotten it as it was almost a perfect match to the armchairs. 

Behind the sofa, on the same wall as the tiger bump out, large rectangular planters stood behind the sofa, dark bamboo stood against the wall in contrast with the paint.

You looked towards the front of the shop, a low console table, also painted black with a matte finish and glass surface, stood under the large box window with books sitting atop the surface. The box window had a small collection of decorations in it, a few small statues of buddha, a dragon perched atop its treasure hoard, a golden lucky cat waving at anyone who passed by.

The rooms were separated by half walls with large glass windows, the doorways were open square arches. The walls inside each room were different in the decor and decals. In the room Minho and Chris were working, a dragon decal had been painted in the center of the wall, lined up with the door. A neon sign, green in color, hung on the wall next to the dragon displaying the name of a brewery in town.

There was a backlit shadow box with comic strips framed and spaced evenly from top to bottom.

You looked away from the room, taking note of the light wood floor with pale ashy tones, the black and gray ornamental rug that filled the lobby area was stunning and the patterns very intricate. You wondered if Changbin knew about the history of the rug and if so, you’d love to hear about it.

Changbin had gotten so used to the sound of the bell that he almost didn’t hear it anymore, especially when he was in the middle of an appointment with a client but whenever the tattoo gun wasn’t in his hand, he paid more attention.

Looking up as the bell rang, he saw two patrons leaving, both having been serviced by Chris. Changbin was about to return his gaze to the client who was currently counting bills when his heart skipped a beat. You had just walked in, politely bowing to the clients who were leaving.

It had been several days since Changbin had last seen you at the house party Chris and Minho had invited him and Jeongguk to. You looked just as radiant as ever. You wore a light pink jacket over a flowy cream colored dress where the hem fell just above your knees.

The tights you wore with the ensemble were nude with a swirly floral pattern. You’d paired the look with black suede pumps with straps which brought out the black details of the dress. A thin black ribbon tie at the high neck, black buttons that went up the front of the bust. It was a simple look but you made it look anything but simple. Every time Changbin saw you, somehow you always managed to look so well put together. It was clear you spent a lot of time picking out your outfits and planning things.

From your outfit to your makeup and hair. It was a huge contrast to your best friend who Changbin had noticed was wearing high waisted black cut-off jean shorts, a black tank tucked in and a black oversized cardigan. She wore black combat boots much like Changbin and it never managed to surprise him how different the two of you were.

Like night and day.

Changbin smiled as his client handed him a wad of cash, thanking him for the newest work on his calf before exiting. Changbin quickly counted the money, moving over to the counter and opening the top drawer where he kept his built-in safe, carefully putting in the code and opening the door. He separated a few of the larger bills before adding the cash to the safe, closing it up and tucking the rest in his wallet.

He went about cleaning up his station to set up for the next appointment, trying not to look out the window where he could only see the top of your head. He could faintly hear you talking to Lilah but couldn’t make out what the two of you were talking about.

He picked up the spray bottle on the counter and gave the chair a few sprays, quickly wiping the surface down. He moved about his station, opening and closing drawers and cabinets as he gathered the supplies he would need for Lilah’s tattoo. Once he had the basics, he exited the room, popping over to Jeongguk’s station to check on his progress.

He then left the room and walked into the lobby. He noticed how you were looking around, no doubt inspecting his choice in decor. He suddenly felt self-conscious. How would you perceive him through his design choices? Were you impressed or underwhelmed?

He shook his head, and walked over to where you and Lilah sat. “You ready?” he asked, taking note how you didn’t seem to hear him as he spoke to your best friend. She nodded and Changbin beckoned her to follow him.

As you were lost in your thoughts, staring at the rug, Lilah stood up and snapped you out of your thoughts. “Come on, spacey,” she joked and you got up, following her back and into the room. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized Changbin was the only artist in the room. It then dawned on you that Changbin was going to be doing her tattoo.

Lilah hopped up on the chair and pulled out her phone, connecting her head phones to the device and leaving one ear free. “Just the line work today, right?” Changbin asked as you stood awkwardly by the doorway. Your eyes raked over his form, taking in his outfit of the day.

He was wearing another fitted black tee tucked into black cargo pants with the cuffs of his pants tucked into his signature black combat boots. His hair had been straightened and styled, showing his forehead. He had a simple silver chain around his neck. It seemed that this was kind of his go to outfit.

Changbin turned slightly to glance your way before chuckling to himself. “You know you can sit down, right?” he asked, nodding at the chair near the chair Lilah was sitting on. You murmured a thanks and walked over to the chair, removing your jacket and sitting down

You glanced around the room, taking in the features. Changbin’s station was the only one in the room. The same floor ran through this room as the rest of the shop. The walls were the same off white with a custom made neon sign in the shape of a lotus hanging above the counter top that ran the length of the wall opposite the doorway.

The countertop was black quartz, the cabinets below the same off white as the walls with gold hardware. The chair Lilah sat on was a bright red leather with an adjustable headrest, arm rests, foot rest and heavy circular base. The entire chair looked fully adjustable and quite comfortable.

Changbin was looking over supplies sitting on a silver rolling tray. Various tools and equipment sat before him. He had a few small ink pods waiting to be used. You continued to scan the items, noticing he had two pairs of black gloves. ‘Two pairs?’ you wondered to yourself.

A stool, at least you thought it was a stool, sat near him. It looked like a small chair with a back and arm rests but the arm rests were backwards, sticking out from either side of the back of the stool. You looked away from the equipment to the artists as Changbin moved over to the counter and opened a drawer, grabbing a small clear bag of black rubber bands and shutting the drawer before he walked back over to Lilah. 

“If we can knock out the shading this time too, that’ll save you another session,” he said softly as he looked up. Lilah glanced over at you. “Do you mind if we stay a little longer?” she asked. Changbin turned to look at you as well. You shook your head. “No,” you said softly. “It’s your appointment,” you added with a smile towards your friend.

She beamed and nodded as Changbin turned away. “Alright,” he said moving to the side of the chair and you watched as he pushed a button and the leg rest started to raise, splitting in half. “Is the headrest in a good spot?” he asked as he finished raising the leg rest. Lilah nodded and scooted back into the seat and got comfortable. Changbin moved back over to the tray, using his toe to pull the stool closer.

You watched as he sat on it, the backrest in front of him. “You can move closer,” he commented towards you as he grabbed a glove and pulled it on before putting the other on. You realized your chair had wheels and you slowly scooted forward, moving closer to Lilah as Changbin prepared the tattoo gun.

You didn’t pay much attention to the process as it looked extremely complicated but it was still fascinating to watch. Changbin rolled closer, bringing his tray with him. You watched as he prepped Lilah’s skin, wiping the area with a cotton pad and taking a brand new disposable razor.

You watched with rapt attention as he prepared the area, shaving any hair and wiped the skin again. Once he was ready, Changbin grabbed the stencil he’d prepared and placed it on Lilah’s thigh. He pressed it firmly against her skin, making sure it stuck before peeling the paper away.

“Check the placement,” he said softly, waiting patiently as Lilah hopped up and walked over to the mirror to check it out. “Perfect,” she said excitedly, returning to the chair. Changbin nodded and moved into position. Once he got started, you watched him work.

He didn’t speak much as he worked, focusing instead on tracing the lines of the stencil. You’d been to a few of Lilah’s appointments before but most of the tattoos you’d witness her get were smaller. This was the largest piece you’d seen her get.

It was a large lion’s head, mouth open in a silent roar. You continued to watch silently as Changbin worked, finding the constant hum of the tattoo gun comforting. You glanced up to see Lilah had her eyes shut, mouthing to lyrics to whatever song she was listening to.

The song playing over the speaker of the shop’s intercom was a familiar one, you’d heard Lilah play from her playlist before. It was a heavy rock piece with a lot of drumming. It wasn’t your favorite kind of music but you didn’t mind it. You watched the tattoo take shape slowly, watching the way Changbin worked slowly but diligently. He clearly didn’t like to rush things, something you could appreciate.

After he’d managed to get half of the lines done, you looked up, hearing footsteps behind you. You turned back to Changbin. “Do you mind if I look around?” you asked softly. He glanced up briefly before shaking his head. “Just don’t get in anyone’s way,” he said with a slight smile.

You got up, leaving your jacket and purse in the chair and headed out of the doorway. Across from the room Changbin was set up in was a larger room with two stations in it. The one near the door was empty but the other station had Jeongguk, sitting in a similar stool as Changbin. He was working on an arm tattoo. The client was a young woman, maybe around Lilah’s age.

Her arm was resting on what you assumed was a separate arm rest, inside of the forearm exposed as Jeongguk colored in the line work of a tattoo you assumed he previously had done. His style was much different than Changbin’s but the tattoo was still just as intricate and beautiful.

It was an hourglass design inside a compass. You apologized softly when Jeongguk glanced at you. “I’m just curious to see what everyone else is doing,” you added. Jeongguk smiled and shook his head. “Don’t apologize,” he replied. “I don’t mind spectators,” he added with a chuckle.

After watching a couple more minutes, you left the room and peeked in to see the progress of Lilah’s tattoo. Changbin had almost completely finished the lines. You decided to check the other room. Paxton was no longer behind the counter and was instead coming back from the back of the shop.

You turned to look into the room Minho and Chris were in. Minho was still working on the same tattoo as before while Chris now had Hana in his seat. You leaned against the frame, offering a polite smile to Hana who surprisingly returned it. Chris glanced back and smiled widely.

“Lilah still getting her piece done?” he asked to which you nodded. “I’m just looking around. The boss said I could,” you added with an amused tone. Minho glanced up before going back to his work. You walked over, making sure to stay a reasonable distance away.

The tattoo he was working on was a traditional style dragon with clouds behind it. The lines were thicker than the lines on Lilah’s piece but you could tell it was intentional. “You spying on me?” Minho joked as he glanced back at you. Shaking your head, you moved a little closer. “Admiring your work,” you replied.

Minho chuckled and continued to work. “Next you’re going to tell me you want a tattoo,” he mused. You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to nudge him as he was working and turned back to Hana and Chris. “You wanna watch?” Chris asked, looking over at you.

You glanced at Hana who shrugged. “I don’t mind,” she added. You walked over and stood beside them. “What kind of piercing is this?” you asked. “Bridge,” Hana replied simply. You pointed at the bridge of your nose and Hana nodded. You nodded and watched as Chris took a black marker and marked either side of the bridge of Hana’s nose.

“Is that where you want it?” he asked, handing her a handheld mirror. You watched as she tilted his head, checking the placement before handing the mirror back. “Yep,” she said simply. Chris nodded, grabbing an alcohol wipe and opening it. He carefully wiped the spot before picking up the needle.

“Alright, he said softly. “Close your eyes. Deep breath in.” You watched as he carefully lined the point of the needle with the mark. “Deep breath out.” As Hana breathed out, Chris pushed the needle in, carefully lining the point with the opposite side to make it even. Once the needle was all the way through, he turned to the tray, opening the package with the jewelry.

“Keep your eyes closed,” he instructed as he removed one of the balls from the barbel and placed the end into the open end of the needle. You watched with morbid fascination as he pulled the needle through, guiding the barbel into the new hole. He removed the needle and grabbed the ball, screwing it on and making sure it was firm and tight.

“And done,” he said simply. Hana opened her eyes, taking the mirror from him to look at the new piece of jewelry as Chris started to clean up. “Be honest,” Hana said, turning to you. “How does it look?” You inspected it a little closer. “It looks really cool. It’s perfectly even, too,” you replied. Hana smiled and looked back into the mirror.

You excused yourself and headed back to Lilah, passing Paxton who glared at you once again. You still didn’t know what her issue with you was but you decided not to dwell on it as you entered Changbin’s station. He’d finished the lines and was now working on shading the lion head.

“How was your trip?” Lilah asked, eyes still shut. “Fascinating,” you answered as you sat back down. Changbin glanced up at you and smiled before returning to his work. “Jeongguk was working on an arm tattoo. It looked like some kind of mandala,” you explained to Lilah. “Minho was doing this really cool traditional dragon tattoo and Chris did a bridge piercing,” you relayed, feeling like a child telling your mother what happened in school that day.

The rest of the appointment passed quickly and soon Changbin was turning off the tattoo gun and setting it down. “Alright,” he said and Lilah opened her eyes. “Let me finish wiping it down and then I’ll cover it. You looked up from your phone, having zone out a while ago while playing some kind of coloring game on your phone. Changbin wrapped up quickly.

As he was finishing, Jeongguk peered in. “We’re ordering from the noodle place down the street,” he announced to Changbin. “You want your usual?” Changbin nodded without looking up as he applied vaseline to Lilah’s tattoo and started securing the plastic. “Get some of those beef dumplings,” he called out. He looked up at Lilah. “You know the drill. Bandage stays on for four days, no soaps except that antimicrobial I told you about, lotion for sensitive skin without dyes or perfumes, blah blah blah,” he added as he got up and started cleaning.

“If the bandage comes off before four days, come back in and I’ll replace it,” he added as Lilah walked over to the mirror, pulling out her phone to snap a picture of it. “And send me that picture,” he added as he noticed her taking another. “I want to add both it and the finished piece to my instagram.”

Lilah nodded and opened her messages to send him the picture. “So what do you think?” Lilah asked, showing off the new ink. You smiled, inspecting it. “I like it,” you replied. “The lines are really clean and the shading is really good. It’s gonna look pretty sick with the color,” you added.

“Does this mean you want to get something?” Lilah asked, wiggling her eyebrows, making you laugh loudly. “No,” you replied. “Absolutely not.” Changbin removed his gloves and tossed them in the trash bin, the snap of the gloves making you and Lilah look over at him.

He had a playful smile on his face. “Is my art not pretty enough for you?” he asked jokingly. You shook your head. “Your art is beautiful,” you replied, catching him off guard. “I just don’t have any desire to get a tattoo,” you explained. Changbin chuckled lightly. “I’m just messing with you,” he replied. “Tattoos aren’t for everyone,” he added. “I get that.”

Lilah thankfully punctuated the subject with her change in topic.

“How much do I owe you?”

You turned to gather your things as Lilah paid Changbin, thanking him once more. “Come back once you’re ready to add some color to that,” Changbin reminded her. She nodded and turned to you. “I’m gonna go see Chris really quick. I’ll meet you up front.” You nodded as you unplugged your phone from your charger and packed up.

As you were pulling on your coat, Changbin spoke up.

“If you ever change your mind,” he said, drawing your attention. “About getting a tattoo,” he added, noticing your confused expression. “I’d be happy to do any work you’d like done.” You smiled warmly. “Thanks,” you said softly, picking up your bag as he leaned against the counter behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’d love to be your first,” he added, an amused undertone to his voice.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you met his gaze. There was something about the way he looked at you. Something in the playful smirk on his face. Before you could respond, you heard Lilah calling your name, pulling you from your trance.

“I gotta go,” you announced. Changbin nodded, the same smirk still on his face. “See you around, Y/N,” he said softly and you turned away, forcing yourself to walk out of the room and towards the front of the shop where Lilah was waiting.

You followed her out onto the sidewalk, Chris locking the door behind the two of you as they set about closing the shop. “Are you hungry?” Lilah asked, linking her arm with yours. You nodded slowly, still mulling over Changbin’s words and playful banter. “Yeah,” you finally replied as Lilah steered you in the direction of the town square. “Let’s get some dinner,” you added.

“Good,” Lilah said excitedly. “Cause I’m starving.”

ⓘ If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging as it helps me out more than you know. All graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

#cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #ksmutsociety #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids x reader #changbin scenarios #changbin imagines #changbin fanfiction #changbin fanfic #changbin angst #changbin fluff #changbin x reader #series: under your skin #series: uys

[koishiro]

# - 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : bumping into (what you thought was) your enemy on a winters morning, you realise he isn’t so much of the annoying boy you once thought he was. bakugo just wants you to know how deeply he feels for you, chasing that hug that was ripped so viciously away from him

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : slight angst to fluff??

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 2k

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : i put this off for so long… (this is actually kinda pointless)

masterlist | bnha masterlist

I bundled myself up in my winter coat — the same old grey one my mother had bought me years prior, slowly falling apart yet still thick and warm. I hadn’t walked a block before I felt the chill of an impending snowstorm settling around my shoulders like a blanket; but undaunted by what lies ahead on this brisk morning walk towards the school building, I gathered up the courage to continue. There's something special about stepping out into nature after all - no matter what conditions lay ahead.

The cold morning air numbed my nose as the icy breath of winter settled upon the landscape. It was colder than usual, prompting me to draw my coat tightly around myself in an effort to contain my body's warmth. The trees were beautiful that day, with no green leaves in sight—just a blanket of fresh white snow dancing by way of a glimmering light between them and reflected off the frozen-over lake where a few daring children slid across its surface like seals on ice.

There was something indefinable in the crisp air and soft light of this morning that made me feel more alive. Everywhere around, colors shone in a sharper hue than usual, and birdsong sang through the trees with a special clarity. I half-closed my eyes and breathed it all in - cinnamon spice from somewhere nearby mingling with the smoky scent of woodfires out on nearby stalls; remembering shared Christmases back home surrounded by family laughter; wondering what they'd be doing right now.

I had been living in Japan not too long and was attending the prestigious U.A High School, where heroes came to refine their abilities and skills. But despite my best efforts, there was one boy who seemed to have a problem with me; he always picked on me for no reason other than maybe his own insecurity or jealousy of my growing reputation as a powerful hero. His taunts were unrelenting and every time I encountered him it felt like an assault from the inside out – I could let myself be thrown off balance by his words or strive to take back control of what he thought would break me down.

You were well aware of Bakugo's temper, which could sometimes spiral into an eruption of unchecked anger. But the most incredible thing about him was his restraint. Despite this misdirected fury, you never saw Bakugo direct it at anyone in particular — not even you who he had made a habit of singling out for years previously. It seemed that though his voice rose to a deafening pitch and those flares of emotion coursed through him like electricity, they somehow remained safely contained until they could eventually be dissipated in harmless fizzles and scowls against the wall or table instead aimed at any living soul.

Bakugo was a raging storm in human form, his temper quick to flare and his voice booming even when he wasn't speaking. His words were always tinted with anger or annoyance whenever you had the misfortune of being within earshot. You would frequently find yourself watching him from afar, holding your breath as if bracing for some kind of ripple effect akin to dropping a pebble in still water - any attempt at conversation instantly dissipated like dust in the wind no matter how innocent it seemed and although you never really liked him, there was an air of resignation that surrounded both your interactions; one born out of desperation and necessity rather than out of desire.

Still, something was different this time as he looked at you with a newfound emotion, like he had just caught a dazzling vision come to life outside the barriers that both societies had seemingly placed between you. His words were more gentle now and even in the cold winter air around you felt an unrestrained warmth; one that rapidly began to thaw your heart and have it beat with a foreign feeling you had never experienced before.

Bakugo stood before me like a soldier at rest – tall and proud, but still uncertain. His breath was visible in the cold winter air as he exhaled heavily. He wore his usual confidence on top of an otherwise unreadable face, clad in a fluffy navy bobble hat, the kind with woolen pom-poms and a soft foldover band. His signature orange winter coat was cut and draped around him like an ancient cape; two large buttons on either side kept it secured against his body. His feet were sheathed in high black Doc Martens - thick leather uppers, heavy rubber soles – which gave him both stability and protection from whatever might threaten below.

Tension emanated from him and his eyes flickered with nervous energy as he shifted from one foot to the other, not knowing what to say or do next. Despite this display of uncertainty I could feel how strong he was beneath it all; a force too powerful for any mere words or actions by himself alone to suppress.

The same could be said of me, though I was more shy and introverted compared to him. A soft pink scarf hung from my end, complimenting my skin and my hair situated in an intricate updo. I drew strength from his presence, becoming bolder as he shifted from one foot to the other.

He gestured with his outstretched hand, the metal of my house keys glinting in the morning light. "You dropped this, dumbass" he said softly. I looked down to see my own keychain lying in his open palm, each individual key jutting upwards like a tiny hill.

“Oh, thank you Bakugo” I gave a grateful smile and reached out my gloved hand for my keys but before I could take them back, Bakugo's fingers closed around them, drawing them closer to his chest - holding them captive. My gaze shifted to his face where a frown had planted itself across the brows of his deep eyes, “why do you always call me that?”

I gazed up at him, noting the pensive expression that had come across his face. It was clear to me this bothered him - why wouldn't I call him Bakugo? I had no reason to call him anything else nor did I want to. But instead of words, all that came out of my mouth was an uncertain "Sorry?"

His frustration had reached its boiling point. He gritted his teeth, his hands balling into fists at his sides as the words left his lips - “you always call me Bakugo. Why?” His expression changed from one of anger to something sadder and more lost, as if he wanted desperately for someone to understand why he felt so frustrated all the time. His arms dropped limply down by his side in a gesture of helplessness and despair before finally turning away from me, instead glaring at the snow covered ground.

He moved forward slowly, his feet grinding out a path in the crisp white snow with each step. His winter coat was like a beacon amidst all the greys and whites of our silent surroundings; marking his presence for me to follow as I kept my distance behind him.

The surrounding trees were frozen and still, their icy frosted leaves reminding me of childhood winters when I stayed up late searching between constellations in night skies trying to find warmth amongst celestial forms. Breaking through our shared silence he muttered something under his breath that seemed small yet profound enough that it urged me closer towards him than ever before without us having said a word.

“‘m sorry”

I abruptly halted my steps, and heard Bakugo follow suit a few feet in front of me. My head spun around to face him, and I uttered in disbelief: “You’re sorry?” The sarcasm of my voice was thick enough to choke on, a scathing undertone only barely contained by its edge of seething contempt. “Do you know what exactly it is that you’re apologising for? Or is this simply another one of your feeble attempts at humour?"

Bakugo shifted uncomfortably in his spot, clearly not used to having to deal with these sorts of feelings - let alone apologise for them. His words were stilted and clumsy as he tried to express himself, "I’m a dick I know, but I don’t mean to be-"

Bakugo cut himself off as soon as he noticed the deadpan look on my face. His mouth quirked downwards into a frown and his eyes darted away from mine. He began to fidget, it was clear he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself in this uncomfortable moment.

He cleared his throat before speaking again, almost uncertainly at first. "I mean... I was aware of what I was doing, and I know you don't exactly like me," His voice was low now; slightly embarrassed by the admission of knowing our strained relationship for too long had been unrequited on both our parts.

"I can't help it," he continued, lifting his gaze back up towards mine. "You're just so... nice" He said the last bit softly, almost as if he were telling me a secret and didn't want anyone else to hear it. I felt my cheeks flush at the sudden compliment and found myself wanting to say something back, but I couldn't think of anything suitable.

I stared up at him as the words spilled out of his mouth, my brows furrowed in confusion, “You get along with everyone and it pisses me off” His voice was laced with frustration and anger, “the stares you get and the way people just find it so easy to approach you - it really fucking pisses me off”

Bakugo held his hands tightly in front of him, his eyes wild and bright with fury. His clenched fists trembled while he spoke, each word coming harder than the last. "And I'm over here thinking over what to say to you every fucking morning," he ranted, "every fucking morning while you greet everyone else in that damn class except for me!"

As the words left him like arrows flying from a bowstring, so did all of his remaining fight. He hung limply between them both; drained by what had just flown from his mouth as if a heavy veil had been lifted revealing something underneath too vulnerable and raw for him to handle.

My mind raced as I tried to figure out why he was so angered by something that had nothing to do with either one of us - why would I greet someone who’d snarl at me either way?

“Remember valentines? Those stupid flowers you got on your desk?”Of course I did, how could I not? It was the first time anyone got me anything remotely thoughtful. “I spent two fucking hours picking them out, for some stupid fucking meaning that got half-and-half a hug - he stole my hug!”

The words hit me like a slap across the face. I would've laughed at the pout on his face if it weren't for the sheer seriousness lacing his voice. He spoke of these small tokens of love with such wistfulness - as though he had been robbed of some deep, passionate feeling that those little flowers held within them.

His unchecked rage and emotions were evident on his features as if someone had given him back an empty box after holding out their hands for something valuable, something precious; his stolen hug.

Bakugo had tried to mask his handwriting without realising how similar it was to Shoto’s…

All this time I had thought it was Shoto who had given me those beautiful pink tulips tied with a delicate white laced bow. The sheer joy and amazement that filled my heart when I saw them sitting on my desk nearly made me squeal in delight. Without thinking, I ran over to where Shoto was standing and wrapped him in an enthusiastic hug only to now realize months later that it was Bakugo's broken frown behind those flowers all along.

”I didn't know…”, my words dragging from me like a broken record. My voice was but a whisper, laden with the pain he must've felt all this time. Those small gestures that had gone unnoticed had meant more than I could have ever guessed; it stung to know that they'd been overlooked completely when all he wanted was for them to be seen by me - for me to understand everything without him having to say anything at all.

“That’s what hurts,” he spoke louder now, but his resolution held no heat or spite - just hurt in its purest form; acknowledgement of what hadn't been realised earlier gracing his lips as I waited to hear whatever it was lingering in his voice.

"All I ever wanted was for you to see me," he said quietly, averting my gaze and swallowing hard before continuing. "I know that none of what I did is forgivable. But all these years, I kept on hoping that maybe someday you would actually see me"

He looked up at me, an unspoken plea in his eyes. "I'm not asking for you to forgive or forget - I just wanted you to understand why I made all of those mistakes, why my life became so disordered and chaotic. All those stupid things I did to you, pulling your hair or kicking your chair - all for you to see me, ‘m sorry”

Those two words had never held so much emotion before. All those teasing moments, all the crying I had done meant nothing yet meant everything.

Closing the small distance between our feet, I hugged him with such warmth it battled his own. Bakugo was clearly shocked at first, not realising its intent would end with my arms wrapped around his middle. He remained motionless for a moment, hesitating before slowly wrapping his own muscular arms around me in an embrace that felt like a shield from the world outside our small bubble of newly found comfort.

“What did they mean?” I said, my voice muffled by his orange puffer jacket. Tilting his head to level my own he stared down at me with a confused look, “the flowers, what did they mean?”

He moved in closer and pushed back the collar of his coat to get a better look into my eyes; I could smell a slight hint of cologne on him that was sweet but faint and it made me shiver slightly in response. His lips parted as if about to speak before he suddenly paused again and ran one hand through the sandy brown tresses on top of his head

“You can’t laugh at me, ‘kay?”

Resting my chin on his chest, I stared up at him in wonder. He mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out; asking him to repeat himself, he mumbled again, this time clearer: “I care for you” Those simple words sent a flood of emotion through me that felt like a million stars lighting up my eyes – “that’s what they mean”

Had I thought I’d be here now, wrapped in the arms of the boy I swore to hate as he whispers these words to me, I would've thought I was crazy.

I felt a warmth spreading through me even though it was colder than cold outside but that didn't matter because my heart no longer held any hate for him anymore; I had let it melt away with the first touch of our embrace beneath that snow-covered sky.

“Can I have my keys back now?”

—

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 (2) : #3 in my 𝘶𝘱𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 / 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘴

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

#‧₊˚🖇️ #⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝒂𝒄𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒂 #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki x y/n #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo mha #katsukibakugou #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugō #katsuki bakugo oneshot #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bnha bakugou #mha x reader #mha bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha bakugō #mha bakugo katsuki #bnha fluff #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha katsuki bakugo #bnha katsuki #bakugo x reader

[lovelytsunoda]

holding out for a hero ( iii ) // platonic! mercedes amg

summary: a holiday party at marcus armstrong's house brings changes to y/n's life, in the form of both a british f2 driver she'd rather not show her face around ever again, and a very awkward milestone.

pairing: platonic!mercedes amg f1 x reader, brief olli caldwell x reader

warnings: first kisses, a slew of emotions i don't want to unpack, it's going to be cute and angsty all at the same time, self-deprecation, basically the same warnings as the rest of the series tbh, mentions of an alcohol allergy, paul being a little shit

author's note: this is lowkey based on the story of my first kiss from last december . . . i actually hated it all and we're back to the drawing board on that whole dating thing. i fear my standards may be too high.

this series would make such a good sitcom tbh

"marcus, for the last time, i don't do parties." y/n insisted, frowning at the face on her phone as she stride out of the mercedes building in brackley. "i don't care that i already know most of the people who are going to be there, or that the guys are bringing their girlfriends. the answer is no."

"come on!" marcus armstrong begged on the other end of the facetime call, laughing as the young intern clumsily zipped up her tommy hilfiger jacket, hiding the bottom half of her face under the collar as the wind whipped her face, flakes of snow beginning to fall from the winter sky. "it's not as bad as you're thinking it's going to be. it's literally just at my house, my younger sister is going to be there."

y/n snorted. "come on, armstrong. if you think telling me that your teenaged sister is going to be at the party is a drawing factor, you need to reevaluate things in your life. besides, liam is going to be there and it's going to be ultra painful to see him and his girlfriend being all loved up."

silverstone had been a huge knock to y/n y/l/n's self-confidence. it had taken a lot for her to allow herself to be that vulnerable. to dance in front of the rowdy group of boys, to let her guard down long enough to meet new people, to have a good time.

to tell liam lawson that she thought he was cute, just for liam to shatter her heart into a million peices without even meaning or trying to.

god, she wished she could stop being so sensitive sometimes.

she hadn't been to another race since. she also hadn't spoken directly to liam, occasionally being looped into things on the group chat. as far as she was aware, red bull were shipping him off to japan with cem bolukbasi to run a superformula test.

she was heading back to her car now, the cold air turning her fingers numb as she clutched her phone, digging in her pocket for her car keys.

"i'm not doing it, armstrong."

"and why the bloody hell not? you had a great time in sliverstone, and i'll have james keep liam away from you if that would make you feel better."

y/n had opened her mouth to say something when she felt a pair of hands clapping her on the shoulders.

"she's going." susie wolff insisted. "come on, y/n. you need to get out more. you deserve to let yourself have fun."

"but this party isn't going to be fun, susie."

susie grinned, hands in the deep front pockets of her trench coat. "you won't know unless you try it, kiddo." she turned to the phone. "marcus, she'll be there!"

____

y/n stood in front of her mirrored closet door, smoothing her fingers over her hair, drawn back into a tight half-up ponytail kind of style.

"you look great, kiddo!" angela cullen's voice faintly filtered through the phone speakers, a kelsy karter song playing softly from the turntable in the corner.

"ang, i'm going to make a fool out of myself out there." y/n groaned. "i hate parties!"

"but you know these guys, y/n. you know marcus, you know clem and you know fred. you'll be fine. with that being said, if you want to leave early, call one of us."

"oh, you'll definitley be getting some kind of call." she rolled her eyes, stopping the turntable and sliding the shiny black vinyl back into it's sleeve, fairy lights twinkling above her. "what if they don't like me, angela?"

"and what if they love you?"

after bidding the physiotherapist her goodbyes, y/n pocketed her phone and padded across the dusty apartment floor to her kitchen. the apartment felt too big for her to live in on her own, and technically she didn't, but it's not like her roommate was ever home. she sighed to herself, opening the fridge to stare at the almost empty shelf, making a mental note to order her groceries.

if there was anything that gave her anxiety, it was grocery shopping. there was a voice in her head that always seemed to tell her that the cashier ringing her groceries through was judging her, or that that mother with two kids in a stroller was frowning at the nutritional index of meals she hadn't even made yet.

she grabbed the plastic container with the kirkland signature logo, groaning to herself as she realized that the lettuce in her pre-made ceaser salad had gone off.

"fuck me." she muttered, throwing the entire thing in the trash before grabbing a ziploc container filled with sliced peppers, that way she had at least eaten something before she went to the party.

just in case her anxiety stamped out her appetite

her nimble fingers sailed across the keyboard as she texted clement, asking for a ride to marcus'. she had no idea where she was going, and she didn't want to be lost in london this close to the new year.

i'll be at the apartment in twenty, and i've got my girlfriend with me. she can't wait to meet you! you're going to have a great time at marcus'

she took a deep breath, reminding herself to calm down a little. it was just marcus armstrong's house. what could possibly go wrong? they're the same people she had such a great time with at silverstone, right?

_____

she regretted going to marcus' almost as soon as she walked through the doors to his massive penthouse. at the track, they could pretend that they were all the same. but not here, not out in the real world when y/n walked through the front doors of his doorman building with glass elevators, his penthouse that was bigger than even the townhouse she grew up in with her parents.

in the kitchen, marcus had stacked a sturdy tower of martini glasses. behind them, felipe drugovich was standing on a kitchen chair with a bottle of ferrari trento champagne in his arms.

"i've always wanted to do this!" the f2 champion shouted. "come on, guys. someone get this on tape!"

"dear lord, what are the twenty stooges doing now?" she groaned, leaning against the wall next to jehan daruvala.

jehan laughed. "making a champagne fountain because liam said he saw it in a movie once. felipe wanted to do the honors of puring it, and nobody wants to argue with the f2 champ, especially when he just found out he's not getting a race seat next year, but logan is."

"shit. i guess the feeder series system just isn't working like it used to."

a chorus of cheers from the kitchen island disrupted further conversation, the warm lights shining down on the last person that y/n wanted to see. god, motorsport was a small world, wasn't it?

liam lawson locked eyes with her from across the apartment, giving her a sad and sympathetic smile. she bit her lip to stop from grimacing, meekly waving back.

nobody else knew what had happened between her and liam, and she preferred to keep it that way.

"y/n!" marcus shouted, throwing his arms in the air and waving her over. "come join us!"

"have a drink." clement encouraged, trying to pass her a glass of champagne.

she shook her head. "give it to your girlfriend, novalak. i'm actually allergic to alcohol."

calan williams narrowed his eyes, skeptically sipping from his own glass. "that sounds fake."

y/n laughed, moving closer to the kitchen island. "its a genetic thing. i can't handle anything more than a cooler or a mixed drink. anything stronger will have me throwing up for hours."

"i think there's some smirnoff ice in the fridge." marcus suggested, pointing towards a large cabinet front. ayumu iwasa opened the cabinet, revealing the fridge behind it.

fucking rich people.

"what the hell, pass me one of the peach smirnoff coolers in the door."

"to felipe!" dennis hauger shouted, hefting his beer into the air, arm full of tattoos on display. "our 2022 champion!"

"and to logan, my old teammate!" liam lawson added, throwing his arm around logan sargeant's neck. liam looked drunkest of all, though it seemed like all of the drivers were a wreck. "williams racing's last hope."

she spent most of the night wandering around marcus' massive house, ducking in and out of conversations. she appreciated that the drivers were trying to help her feel at home, but there was still a small part of her that wanted to flee, to run away and sit at home with her emily henry book or watch a korean psychological thriller.

"so who's actually sticking around next year?" jack doohan asked, slumped across marcus' living room sofa. "aren't they cleaning house in f2?" his buzzcut was growing back in, his shaggy blonde hair fitting his face much better, although the look still seemed odd since the length was at that awkward stage.

"it's dennis, you, ayumu, jehan, enzo, theo, me, amaury, roy, ralph." fred vesti started counting off on his fingers, a drunken slur underneath his words if one listened carefully.

"and i'm not going anywhere any time soon!" ralph boomed. "i'm like fernando fucking alonso, motherfuckers! 2023 is going to be my year, just you wait and see!"

"yeah right! the championship is as much yours as it is clem's!" marcus shouted back with a laugh, an aperol spritz in hand as he messed with the stereo.

"oh, fuck you lot." clement laughed, curled up in an armchair with his girlfriend. "you didn't need to do me like that in front of ines, come on, have some class."

"am i forgetting about anyone?" fred hummed. "i skipped clem, but am i missing anyone else?"

"what about zane? he's coming back, yeah?" amaury suggested.

"dude, it's a miracle that you're coming back." dennis snorted. "i thought you were gone for sure after that speeding ticket fiasco. how long did you lose your license for?"

sitting on the couch in between jack and olli caldwell, she felt suffocated. she drew her arms in on herself, trying to create a bubble of space from the aussie on one side and the briton on the other. her palms felt sweaty, her chest heavy.

"are you okay?" olli asked her softly. "do you want to get out of here? we can go for a walk, take a breather?"

she nodded quickly, her voice soft. "please? i love you all, i really do, but this is a bit much."

"yeah, come on. let's grab your jacket." olli encouraged, taking her by the hand as they both slipped out of marcus' living room.

not that anybody noticed they were gone. or that they had left together.

once they were both outside, y/n felt better. the cool breeze on her face, the twinkling christmas lights that had been lit up glowing in the haze as snow began to fall gently.

"so where are you off to next year if it's not f2?" she asked, fingers still laced with olli's as they walked down the sidewalk.

"endurance, i think. alpine are still sponsoring me as a driver, so laurent has been a hige help in trying to find me something else. it's something different, and i'm looking forward to it. what about you?"

"i have no idea." she answered truthfully, dropping olli's hand. "my internship runs out before the season starts in bahrain. then it will be back to the real world, the world where i'm on my own with my five friends and my roommate. i'm hoping that toto will keep me on next year, but i also realize that he might not have that control. it would be a shame to leave, though. i feel like i've finally found my place in this world."

they stopped walking, y/n leaning against the brickwork exterior of marcus' condo complex. olli stood in front of her, hands in his jeans pockets, his breath turning into mist in the air.

"i'm sure it will all work out. and even if mercedes don't take you on, there are so many other motorsports in europe that you can try. and you'll always have us, y/n. any time you want them, i've got wec tickets for you."

"thanks, olli. really."

they drifted into a silence, somewhat easy, somewhat not. olli's hands came up to press against the wall, his face just milimeters from hers. her heart started pounding, anticipation building in her bones.

is this it? is it really happening? is olli caldwell going to kiss me?

and then he leaned in, his lips pressed against hers.

y/n y/l/n had just had her first kiss.

_____

"so let me get this straight, you finally got your first kiss, a boy actually wanted to go out with you, and you're turning him down?"

"well, when you put it like that!" y/n groaned, face in her hands as she slumped back in her desk chair.

it was the week after marcus armstrong's party, the group sitting in the legal department at the mercedes f1 factory in brackley. she had already told the full story, and her face was pinker than a crush cream soda.

"i just don't understand what your train of thought is here, if i'm being honest." george chuckled. "so caldwell kissed you. what's the big deal?"

"because it was my first kiss, george! i've been thinking it over all weekend, and i felt sick to my stomach when olli texted me the morning after." she groaned, running her hands over her face. "you're going to laugh at me when i tell you why."

"i promise you, we aren't going to laugh, y/n." lewis said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "all of what you're feeling is normal."

she sighed. "it didn't feel the way that the books said it was supposed to feel."

"that's your big reasoning? really?" nyck's tinny voice rang through the speaker on mick shumacher's phone. in abu dhabi, the reserve driver had officially been traded to scuderia alphatauri, and by extension, not allowed into brackley to be privy to this conversation. so, naturally, he was facetimed and looped in anyways.

"mick, can you please mute the traitor." y/n groaned, reaching for the german boy's phone before mick laughed and pulled it out of her reach to mute the call himself.

on screen, nyck was still talking.

"i know it sounds stupid, but i've felt sick about it all weekend. what am i supposed to do, guys?"

"i think that your feeling are vaild, first of all." mick began, "and that maybe olli came on too strong."

mick's finger slipped, unmuting the call enough for nyck to shout. "did i not just say that? were you not listening?"

"you have so much time, y/n." lewis said with a small smile. "but i hope you've learned something about yourself from this, yeah? maybe this was the boost of self confidence that you needed?"

she had thought about the kiss all weekend, hoping that she could make it make sense, and that she wasn't overreacting. and it's not like olli had done anything wrong, although french kissing was a little much for the first date, even when it wasn't even a date, and she was trying to convince herself that telling olli she just wanted to be friends was the best call.

and then, digging deeper, she had to ask herself if she was even ready for a relationship. because when the idea was finally breathing down her neck, the idea of olli, and going on a date, and sharing so much of herself with someone else, it scared the shit out of her.

"he put his tongue in my mouth, lewis!" she whined. "god, i sound like a child."

"he what?" a muffled voice called from the other side of her desk, followed up by a thump and frantic whispering.

"what the fuck?" y/n mumbled, getting out of her desk chair and leaning over the glass cubicle wall. "paul?"

with a shit eating grin on his face, paul aron slipped out from underneath the table, kimi antonelli just behind him. while paul didn't look the least bit apologetic, kimi looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

"i am so sorry, miss. we shouldn't have been listening." the italian boy bowed his head. "but blame paul, it was his idea."

"what, i wanted the office gossip." the estonian boy shrugged. "he french kissed you, and you friendzoned him? that's a little sad."

"paul get out!" y/n snapped. "or i'll call toto and bono!"

the threat of toto wolff was enough to get kimi and paul to dart out of the room faster than the freca cars that they drove. toto didn't know about the kiss, mainly because she knew that he had otmar and laurent on speed dial and would find a way to put the fear of god into oliver caldwell for hurting his intern.

the bond that she had formed with the wolff family wasn't something she would have traded for the world. she found herself calling or texting toto's daughter rosa more often, with the two being of a similar age.

she just hoped that toto liked her enough to keep her around for another season.

"there are plenty of fish in the sea, kiddo." susie wolff added, striding into the office. "and don't worry, i'm not going to tell toto. although, paul and kimi might. take this as a learning experience. and don't take any advice from this lot." she added, whacking george in the back of the head with a file folder.

"why did i feel like that was directed at me?" the man from king's lynn groaned.

"the right boy will come when the time is right. god knows i met toto later in life. and look at us now." susie continued, pulling y/n in for a hug. "come on, we have an investor meeting with monster, and toto wants you there."

"me? he wants me in a meeting with our biggest sponsor?"

lewis laughed. "you need to start giving yourself more credit. you are so loved here, y/n. you have a future in motorsport law, a future here."

mick, lewis and george all exchanged a look, bright smiles on their faces.

"what are you not telling me? is toto keeping me on for next year?"

"we aren't allowed to say anything just yet." george started. "but, i think toto has a soft spot for you."

"put it this way: you'll know before bahrain, and you might want to pack some summer clothes." susie smiled.

Tags:

@magnummagnussen @diorleclerc @daydreamingleclerc @scuderiamh @sidcrosbyspuck @libraryofloveletters

#mercedes amg petronas #lewis hamilton x reader #george russell x reader #mick schumacher x reader #toto wolff #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #family are the friends we meet along the way series #olli caldwell x reader #Spotify

[finnpeach]

In the Alley

Hey guys... sorry about this. Bakudeku, NSFW, present for @themiseryandcompany

For the ninth time today, Dynamight wipes his nose on his shoulder.

It’s also the twenty-eighth time he’s sniffled, the fourteenth time he’s cleared his throat, and the third time he’s gotten that far-away, hazy look in his eye before he shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Which marks Izuku’s third boner of the day.

They’re patrolling on a cold day in January. To anyone, they may blame Katsuki’s constant sniffling and congestion on the chilly weather, but Izuku knows better. 

Kacchan has a cold.

He’d heard it this morning when his boyfriend had slid out from under the warmth of their duvet to blow his nose in the bathroom and cough like it was his job. He’d heard it when Katsuki complained about how cold it was outside, his vowels marred by the viscosity of congestion. And he’d heard it when Japan’s top pro-hero had yelled at the poor receptionist at their agency when she dared suggest that he might have a cold. 

“A cold?! As if Dynambight would ever have somethi’gg as pathetic as a cold! Do you hear this, Deku?!”

Katsuki’s voice had cracked and fizzled with each strained word, betraying just how sore his throat was. Izuku had known then that his boyfriend was feeling under the weather. It's been so long since Kacchan had lost his temper so easily, and even longer since Izuku's had to drag his boyfriend away before he caused an even bigger scene.

Their patrol has been quiet. Boring, in fact. There’s a light frosting of snow on the ground and the harsh whip of the wind keeps Tokyo’s residents indoors. To keep himself entertained, Izuku has taken to counting the number of times his boyfriend sniffles, wipes his nose, almost sneezes. Izuku hasn’t been lucky enough to see him sneeze yet, but he hasn’t given up hope.

“Hey, Deku! Snf!” Twenty-nine. “We’re going this way. We haven’t checked out this alley since December.” His boyfriend stops in his path and points to a small alleyway up ahead, adjacent to the 7/11. Maybe he can convince Kacchan to stop for some tea at the convenience store before they continue on their route.

Izuku follows Kacchan’s pointed finger, wrinkling his nose in uncertainty. They tend to ignore this alley simply because it’s boring. People only use it to pass through if they need a shortcut, and the most interesting thing about it is the spray paint of graffiti along the brick.

Still, not one to argue with the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight, Izuku follows. “There? Okay.” 

The alleyway is small, hardly big enough for them both to walk side by side, so Izuku walks behind his boyfriend. His broad shoulders take up most of the space in the alley, and though he’s wearing his winter pro-hero costume, Izuku can tell that Kacchan is cold. In the quiet of the alley, he can hear the blonde’s teeth chatter.

It’s not uncommon knowledge that fire-type powers get cold easily, and have a harder time producing flames (or in Kacchan’s case: explosions) in cold weather. But Izuku has never seen his boyfriend shiver before. 

The desire to get him warm, comfortable, overrides any responsibility he feels towards investigating the alley. Izuku turns and looks at the beacon of light illuminating the 7/11 behind them. Snow is starting to fall from the hazy grey sky.

“Hey, why don’t we turn around and go get some tea from–”

“hhKSsh’IH!” The harsh sound of a sneeze cuts through the air, echoing off the brick walls in the alley.

Izuku doesn't turn around. He’s too scared to. If he looks, will the moment disappear? He can hear his blood pumping in his ears. 

Another shaky breath. “Hh–!” It sounds sharp, desperate, like the gasp one makes when a cold hand is pressed to the warmth of their skin.

“h’ihKTsZHHh–hh…” Softer, no exclamation. Izuku can hear the wet kiss of spray on Kacchan’s lips. He can picture his shoulders sagging, can picture him holding onto the wall for support. Izuku doesn’t need to see it to imagine it. 

“Hhdt–!” Another? Something must really be bothering his nose. “hihh–nghKT! ih’KssCH’hyu!” Two. The second one brings more spray, a consequence of stifling the first. The blood rushes from Izuku’s ears to his abdomen, warm and sweet like syrup. 

Izuku’s personal orchestra of sneezes concludes with a wet, heavy sniffle and a stuffy sigh that tells him everything he needs to know about Kacchan’s cold..The sounds replay in his ear like a vinyl on its last groove, repeating over and over again for his own pleasure. 

When Izuku finally turns around, Kacchan is indeed holding onto the wall, just like he imagined. His head is bent forward, though he quickly straightens up as if he sensed Izuku’s eyes on his back.

“What’re you looking at?” he grumbles, turning on his heel to face his partner. His eyes are narrowed into slits. Izuku can see the most delicate, damp sheen on Kacchan’s cupid’s bow.

“N-nothing,” Izuku stammers. The words ‘Bless you’ die on his tongue. His face is hot. He brings his hands up to his chest, exposing his palms in defeat. In his tight costume, there is absolutely no hiding his erection, so he does his best to keep Kacchan’s eyes from wandering too low.

Kacchan sniffles again, still glaring, then wipes his reddening nose on his shoulder without looking away. Ten. It’s not really possible to wipe it anywhere else, with his grenade cuffs. 

“What’s with the erection?”

How had he noticed?! Izuku can feel himself turning pink, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. His tongue swells thick, useless in his mouth. “I– well, it’s… You know how I–”

“‘How you’ what?” Kacchan steps closer. The alleyway is too small for Izuku to slip past Kacchan, and he can’t go back onto a public street with such an obvious boner. It would be all over the news, ‘Japan’s Pro-Hero Indecent in Public!’

So Izuku presses himself against the wall. The skin on his back alights with goosebumps as he makes contact with the cold brick. Kacchan steps closer, like a lion on the prowl. 

“How I– you know. That.” He can’t say it. Kacchan knows how he likes sneezing. He’s always known, he figured it out himself at U.A. University. It’s not exactly a secret that they don’t discuss and, more often than not, his boyfriend uses it as a way to tease him.

“Use your words.” Kacchan’s voice is deep, congested in Izuku’s ear. He stands an inch away, his thigh sliding between Izuku’s legs. Izuku’s face has turned from pink to red. Kacchan bends his head down, lips a hair’s breadth from his boyfriend’s sensitive throat.

“Kacchan– aah…” He’s cut off by his own gasp when Kacchan’s lips find his throat. Gentle kisses that turn hungry, ravenous. One hand finds Izuku’s hips to pin him closer to the cold wall while the other palm is pressed flat against the wall by his head, trapping him. 

A shiver runs up his spine when Kacchan sniffles right by his ear. The sound is urgent, like his nose has just started running again. Another kiss and a small bite. Izuku is losing himself in his partner’s touch.

“I’ve needed to– hh…! sneeze for thirty minutes now. Why do you think we came down this alley?” Kacchan says between kisses, his gloved hand finding its way inside Izuku’s costume. Izuku feels himself turn to jelly.

It makes perfect sense. Kacchan would never let the general public see him so vulnerable, so pathetic. To Dynamight, sneezing in plain view would make his enemies see him as weak. Hiding away in an alley to sneeze came with the added bonus of trapping Izuku, too.

He has no words to describe how hot this is. Pinned to a freezing wall by Japan’s #1 pro-hero, who is also weakened by none other than a pathetic cold, makes Izuku feel as though he’s on fire. His cock grows harder in his costume, breaths coming in choppy pants.

Kacchan’s lips glide from the arch of his throat to his jaw, pressing kisses everywhere he goes. Eventually, their lips meet, working in a perfect dance for balance as they push and pull each other. 

It’s only interrupted when Kacchan’s breath falters.

“Hih–!” His eyes open, then slip shut again, nose wrinkling beneath his black eye mask. He looks so pretty like this. The lightest brush of snow has started to collect on his shoulders, chilling him to the bone. His head tilts back with a final serrated gasp. Izuku watches with bated breath.

“ihk–dZSchh’h! h’hKschhh’YIH!” He doubles forward, sneezing between the both of them. A warm mist intermingles with the falling snow, melting any flakes before they can reach the ground. With each sneezy exhale, Izuku can also see Kacchan’s hot breath condensing in the frigid air to create a fleeting, misty cloud.

Izuku swallows. He touches his boyfriend’s wrist, the one by his head, to hold on for support. Let him know he’s there. Kacchan isn’t done, clearly.

His breath staggers again. Hardly a warning, before– “hh’iiIHZSChh! –izzthhuewH!” That one had sounded different, like the tip of his tongue had been caught between his teeth. 

He’s never known Kacchan to sneeze this much. The thought fills Izuku with a strange mixture of pleasure, concern for his boyfriend, and eagerness to figure out just why so he can add it to his pro-hero book. It can’t be due to his cold alone, can it? Maybe there’s a certain temperature at which fire-types get sneezing fits from, or a certain condition to the snowy weather, or–

“Deku.” Kacchan pulls him out of his haze, flicking his finger against Izuku’s temple. “Pay attention to me. I’m not– hh! Done yet.”

The way Kacchan demands his attention makes Izuku smile, his freckled cheeks rising against his eyes. His petulance is endearing. “Sorry, Kacchan. I’m watching.” 

“Good,” the pro-hero grumbles, moving his hand from Izuku’s hip to grab the curly dark hair on top of his head. He leans in again, his rose petal lips just brushing Izuku’s. How strange, that someone so rough could have lips so soft. “Because I’m.. heh.. Gohhnna…”

His nose crinkles again, eyes slipping shut. Izuku can practically see the exact moment when the itch escalates beyond tolerance, promising relief if he only gives in…

“Hyieh– hKSshh’iu! Hkt’KySCHhh’IEWH! Hah…– hh…” The final sneeze seems to toy with Kacchan, leaving him stuck in a transitional space of sneezy misery and liberation. The spray from the two previous sneezes settle between them and Izuku can just make out the thin, dew-drop shine collecting atop Katsuki’s top lip. He longs to rub it away, help him through it.

It doesn’t seem such a bad idea, really. Cautiously, Izuku releases his grasp on Kacchan’s wrist and traces his gloved finger down the curve of Kacchan’s twitching nose. His eyes are still shut, so he can’t see it coming.

“Hihh–!” Kacchan only gasps when he feels Izuku’s finger touch his nose. A tear rolls peeks from the crescent of his eye, sliding down his cheek and leaving a frozen trail in its wake. The slight touch does the trick, somehow, because in an instant he’s pitching forward again. 

“H’idhKzSHhh! hEh’kchZShhyh!... hh… hk–dzSHhhyih!” He sneezes through his nose, against Izuku’s shoulder. The misty feeling settles through the thin fabric and leaves a chill on his skin, covering his skin in goosebumps.

Izuku shivers, but not because he’s cold.

“Bless you,” Izuku manages. Kacchan sniffles and pulls his hand back from his boyfriend’s hair to pinch his nose between his fingers, coughing slightly. When he sees just how red Izuku’s face is, his lips spread into an arrogant grin.

“Knew you’d like all that. C’mon, we’re behind on our patrol now, and I want some tea from the konbini.” He presses a kiss to Izuku’s flushed lips before he turns on his heel and leaves his boyfriend stranded, fully erect, against the wall.

“W-Wait, Kacchan!” Izuku calls, one hand covering his crotch. His face is bright red, burning hot against the cold snow flakes. Desperately, he wills his boner to go down just as Kacchan stumbles, still sneezing, into the 7/11 across the street. The last thing Deku hears before the automatic doors slide closed is his boyfriend yelling at the shopkeeper that he should consider himself lucky because he just heard THE “Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight” sneeze.

#my writing #brrrrrr enjoy. my only bnha fic to see other eyes #lemme know if I got their personalities right #this is a one off before I go back to my patrocchilllessss #hope everyone had a good xmas #sneeze kink #sneezefic

[missmyloko]

What's In an Obi? Part 8

On The Tenth Day of Fun I present... another obi! So far everyone's really liked the obi features, so to tide you over until tomorrow's feature here's another gem!

Image courtesy of Komugisaran. Owned By: Nishimura (西村) in Gion Kobu Motifs: Fruits Easily one of the most unique obi out there wandering the streets of Gion Kobu, this piece uses both realism and faux shibori yuzen to artfully conjure images of fruits to life! The fruits displays include but are not limited to: Bananas: The iconic fruit known around the world, the bananas give a nice pop of bright color. Apples: A favorite among the Japanese, apples come in various colors and shapes, but the most iconic is the red apple, made famous in the tale of Snow White. Oranges: The fruit that's a color, it's a bit of a background piece here. Chestnuts: A favorite fall snack in Japan and known in Christmas carols in the West, these can even be seen as kanzashi motifs! Strawberries: Another popular fruit in Japan, it's known to grace the likes of fancy desserts that are both given as gifts and enjoyed by people of all ages. Grapes: A fruit that's also often given as a gift, prized grapes can cost hundreds of dollars per bunch and are given for special occasions like New Year's. Persimmons: Also a popular fall fruit, they're picked and dried on racks throughout the winter and then enjoyed as a sugary snack. The kamon is even colored the same color as the fruits to match the overall theme!

#maiko #geiko #geisha #kyoto #舞妓 #芸妓 #芸者 #京都 #obi #gion kobu #nishimura #fruit #帯 #祇園甲部 #西村 #果物

[tenjiiku]

the first snow: 2/2

The other day Rin had fallen asleep on the train.

Something about the early Spring of Japan — snow melting off of blooming sakura trees — stirred a quietness inside of him. It felt nice, which was an unnatural and unexpected response to be felt considering how much he had grown to resent his time spent alone. He has tried not to. He has tried to keep his eyes open — tried to keep his head straight. The early afternoon sunlight and the mid-workday lounge from the train to Yotsukaido from Shibuya City welcomed a tranquil commute. It was something Rin had been unknowingly thirsty for; a peace worth only ¥3100. Often, after his sporadic train rides — Rin would find himself at a park. He’d play a few matches of football with the children there, if he were up for the task of socialising with both them and their parents that day. More occasionally, Rin would scavenge for a tree to lounge under, and count the number of blades of grass he could reach for with his index finger and thumb in one motion (the most he has done by now, is 9).

Lately, he has been thinking of you.

He thinks of your face. He thinks of your smell. Rin has been finding it harder to lay with other women, as of late. He hates you for it. He barely knows you. It’s very disturbing. This, Rin is aware of.

The last straw occurred last week. His old friends had known he had returned. By some stroke of faith — perhaps out of resentment for you — Rin had agreed to partake in one of their mixers. A number of women had shown their interest. Nonetheless, when it inevitably came time to leave with one of those whom Rin could at the very most tolerate, that tolerance, too, had dissipated when he had climbed over her.

“Itoshi-san.”

He had seen your face. He had heard your voice. He smelt you in her for half of a second before falling down from his delusion. Rin had left the woman in a hurry. She called him all sorts of names that he can’t seem to quite remember. His friends told him to never come to a mixer with them again, but Rin didn’t care much about it.

He’d been wanting to get rid of them for a while.

Rin should give you credit where it is due — perhaps this fascination blossomed in his interest.

A kick to his stomach.

Rin’s eyes open, groggily. The sunlight reaches him before his pain does.

“Mister, are you dead?” A bratty voice asks rather loudly.

“Are you dumb, you idiot? Who asks a dead person if they’re dead?”

“Shut up, Toru! I’m worried!”

Two small voices pierce his ears. Rin feels numb, but he manages to sit up regardless. He finds himself in front of two concerned-looking adolescent boys at a park of some sort. He rubs his eyelids, placing his elbows on his knees, pushing his hair behind to reveal his forehead.

“Geez, we thought you’d never wake up.” The louder of them proclaims. The more contained one simply nods, crossing his arms around his chest.

Rin rests his forehead on the palm of his hand, looking down at his lap languidly. He feels thirsty, but a yawn escapes his mouth instead of a complaint.

“What time is it?”

The calmer of the two replies this time, “Six thirty.”

“We’d been here since two o’clock — and you hadn’t gotten up since!”

Rin lifts his head up. He can almost see Tokyo Tower from here — if he tries hard enough (if he feeds into his delusions enough). He shakes his head and rubs his eyelids, and the image disappears. Rin is craving for a bowl of his mother’s ochazuke right now.

“Ah. Thanks, kid.” The tall football player wobbly stands up. He balances himself on one of the children’s heads — the nicer one, because Rin sees himself too much in the quieter one and Rin knows his younger self would sooner bite the hand off of such a person. They simply gaze up at him like a sort of irregularity.

“Mister, will you be alright?” The smaller one asks, staring at Rin with concern. Rin does not know why he cares so much — but, pondering on it a little more — he would too — way back then.

Rin simply nods. “Yeah. Think so.”

The two children watch as he walks towards a dead end street. Rin pretends he knows where he is going to save himself the embarrassment of turning back around.

It is too late. He is much too old for this.

.

.

Rin does not find himself home. He finds himself somewhere in Tokyo.

He’d gotten off at Hibiya Station, near Hibiya Moat, but Rin had found out about the Moat after departing from the station. He’d gotten off in the first place simply because he liked the name — the way it sounded when the automated train voice blurted it out loud in the half empty cart. Rin walked for a while, until his nose had caught the scent of something warm and savoury — leading him to a shoebox izakaya: aptly named Hibi.

He is on his first beer — he’s been drinking slowly, because Rin knows he should not be drinking in the first place — but he feels a little restless today. He would only indulge in one. The izakaya is empty for the most part, typical for it being a rainy Tuesday evening.

Rin feels his phone vibrate. He inches it out of his pocket, and reads the banner notification. His manager is looking for him, he half realises. He’s been out the entire day. Rin is not entirely sure why his manager is so angry about it — it is his off day. Maybe he knows how much Rin is walking on a fine line, coming close to edging off of it. He is no longer in his prime, after all. His mother had phoned him the other day, asking him when he would have time to visit — followed by questioning him about retirement and marriage.

Retirement and marriage. Rin had no fucking idea what to say.

“It’s beautiful weather.”

He looks up, an elderly man has taken a seat to his left — two stools away. He holds a cigarette in one hand and plays with a edamame seed in the other. Rin puts his phone away without giving it a second glance.

“Yeah, I suppose so.” Rin says after some delay, not going unnoticed by the senior.

“Why the hesitancy?” The old man questions, his voice gravelly, no doubt because of the tobacco he has most likely smoked for a lifetime.

“I have been having trouble sleeping,”

At this admission, the man laughs, making Rin feel a bit stupid. Only for a moment.

“There are only two reasons one has trouble falling asleep at night.” The strange man made of tobacco starts, “It is either their thoughts of what is to come, or what has already happened, that keeps one awake. No sane person would have difficulty, otherwise.”

Rin does nothing but stare at the man. He watches as he raises his half-empty glass of whiskey to his lips, and Rin notices he does not have a ring finger on. He also notices tattoos that start from his wrist, and, no doubt, continue upwards to his arms — concealed by the fabric of his ironed brown coat.

Rin chuckles, a little forced and heavy, and stares down at his lap, cracking his neck and clicking his tongue. “And what do you believe keeps me up at night, sir?”

The man does not answer right away. In fact, he does not answer at all. Instead, he indulges in his whiskey and snacks. Rin follows his lead and finishes his beer, sighing into his bowl of gyūdon.

When the old man has had enough, he stands up, placing a couple of dollars under the small plate that once had a handful of edamame in it.

He reaches Rin’s side, and Rin only hears one more remark before he leaves.

“I think only you can find the answer to that yourself, son.”

Rin turns the other direction, and watches as the man walks out into the rain. He sees his figure retreat into the distance, and looks back down at his bowl of savoury beef and rice. He looks around the empty restaurant, his mind starts to wander. He thinks about the two children he met earlier and wonders what their lives are like. He thinks about the woman he left at the mixer and feels a twinge of guilt. He knows he shouldn't have used her like that, but at the same time, he can't bring himself to apologise.

He needs to figure out why he's been feeling so lost lately, why he can't seem to connect with anyone else. At this thought, he finishes the last of his beer and pays the bill. 

When he steps out of the izakaya, the rain has stopped.

.

.

.

It’d take him 3 lonely nights for Rin to admit to himself he wanted to see you again. He wonders if he torments you as much as you do him.

It almost pains him to walk to Lawson the next day. He convinces himself he is only going there for his favourite brand of energy drink. If he does not feel anything, he will never come back again. It fits in with his schedule. It is only ten minutes away from his hotel. It’s just natural, Rin reasons.

It is just conventional. The most convenient option. Rin’s hands are tied. Truly, he has no choice.

The familiar chime of the door open greets him like an old secret he’d forgotten he’d been told in his youth. You are stocking up ramen, the middle aisle, and, conveniently, the one aisle that can be seen from the entrance.

You turn. Rin holds his breath. He knew he had lied to himself the first night you met. Still, it takes him aback. You are beautiful.   

“Itoshi-san,” you mumble, a bit breathless as though to mock him, “you’re back.”

Rin looks away, collects himself, then looks back at you — a bit pained. “Yes.”

He was preparing himself to hear a myriad of questions, and having to answer them all. He really did not want to, but he had to, if he wanted to get over himself. But you do not ask him anything. 

You nod at him, smiling — eyes shaping into half moons, “Welcome.”

.

.

It has been a month since he has been in Japan. Rin visited his mother the other day. He managed to sit through the talks of proposals from families of girls he supposedly knew — and he even talked about taxes with his father.

Conversing with you has been good practice.

Like now:

“What laundry detergent do you use?”

Rin leans against the counter of the hot water station, careful not to accidentally turn it on and give himself second degree burns. You are squatting in front of him, setting up a box of fresh sandwiches. Rin grabs an egg and cheese one and holds back a smile as you glare at him for five seconds, before you go back to work. He stares at you intently. You were young, younger than him. Still in school, you worked part-time at Lawson to pay for tuition and bills. You were the eldest of four siblings: three brothers (all fans of his), and Rin had remembered how lightheaded he’d felt when you told him so (and how you had all but laughed in his face).

You were a hardworking creature. You never seemed to get particularly upset or frustrated. You performed the tasks you were given and ate your fill. It seemed to Rin you had reached a level of peace within yourself that he himself is still searching for, despite being nearly nine years your senior.

“Koa. I use their Flair fragrance. Only when they’re on sale. Which they always are.” You answer, snapping Rin out of his reverie. You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand and sniffle.

“It’s false marketing, I say,” You murmur, tone of voice a bit peeved.

Rin huffs. It is his form of expressing amusement. He stares down at his egg sandwich and suddenly does not feel hungry. He does not quite know why he had taken it in the first place. Was it to grab your attention? Possibly. Every conclusion only ever led to you, recently, and Rin despises himself for being so odd. He wishes you were a bit easier than you were — wishes he’d met you in a more relaxed environment. But, the more time Rin spends with you, he does not think a couple of drinks would have gotten you to loosen up around him. He thinks God had planned this period of struggle for him when he needed it the most.

You stand up with a deep sigh. Rin tenses up.

“Why are you asking?” You inquire.

Rin looks to the side. He looks at his egg sandwich that he did not even want. Then, he looks at you. Or — down, at you — given the difference in height, and all.

“You… smell nice.”

The awkward sentiment comes off even more abnormal than expected. No sane man in his early thirties has any reason to be making a frequent visit to Lawson, and although his acquaintances have informed him that he has — indeed — never really been anything but strange for most of his life, it is a hard pill to swallow when it manifests itself into something even Rin could sense the uncanniness in.

You do not even seem to mind. At least, not for as long as Rin had been scared you would have. Though your eyebrows furrow and your mouth parts — to spit a questioning refute no doubt — Rin watches the gears behind your eyes shift as you fall back and do the exact opposite.

“Oh, thanks,” you blink. “You… smell good, too.”

Rin will never be able to read you, this fears and excites him both at once.

“…Thank you.” He mumbles awkwardly after a couple of moments of silence.

Sensing his hesitancy, you divert the topic to something else. You grab the yukikaze garlic miso ramen from a shelf, and approach him at the water station. Rin slightly steps to the side — afraid that if he’d touch you, you’d burn.

“Would you like some?” You turn to him, having to slightly crane your neck to look him in the eye. Rin shakes his head. You roll your shoulders and crack your neck, opening the package.

He watches you intently — not knowing what to say, not knowing where to put his hands, eyes, or self. It’s hard navigating his personal space when he has so little of it. So, he focuses on the back of your neck instead — your blind spot, he had soon found out after nearly the twentieth time he’d been lost staring at it. Your hair is in a near constant up-do, exposing the lovely nape of your neck. Something about it felt vulnerable, Rin does not know why.

A hiss escapes your lips. Rin flinches in his spot. He watches as you recoil your hand from the tap of the hot water machine and furrow your brow at your index finger.

“Ouch,” you state, almost robotically, making a small smile appear on Rin’s lips. You don’t seem to notice. You only but lift your index finger to your earlobe and put it between it and your thumb.

Rin raises an eyebrow.

“Does that really work?” 

Your lips slightly lift up into an amused, almost cruel, smile. Rin’s palms feel sweaty.

“Ah, I don’t know… I’ve seen actresses on television do it.” You explain, gesturing him your chopsticks for him to break. Rin does so, not without overthinking, and returns them to the same hand that gave it to him.

He watches as you mix the now softened noodles and seasoning around in the bowl. Then, to continue the topic, he says, “That’s dumb.”

At this, he gains a soft guffaw from you.

“I am aware, Itoshi-san, but they looked pretty doing it.” you mumble, playing with your food and a pout painted onto your lips.

Rin does not pay that much attention to the media, so he cannot prove the accuracy of your claim. All he can do is hum and pretend to look away as you raise the bowl of ramen to your mouth with your hand that you take away from your earlobe.

After yet another awkward pause, you ask another question nearing the end of your bite. “Do I look pretty?”

“…No.” Rin lies.

You laugh at this. Rin’s heart jumps at the sound — at the prospect of you finally relaxing around him. He thinks he can too, now.

“Itoshi-san, how rude.”

Rin looks to the side, not knowing how to respond to that.

Suddenly, you reach for his hand. He jerks his head to the hand touching his, and looks straight at you as you gently bring his hand to his earlobe. He understands the message, and tries to hear you over the sound of his internal monologue.

“Here,” you slowly whisper, positioning his index finger and thumb to fit his earlobe. Once it is done, you let go and stare. “Woah.”

Rin narrows his brow consciously. “What?”

You bite your lip, then you smile.

“Nothing. You look… pretty.”

A silence descends upon both of you. A hint of colour rises to Rin’s ears, and he pretends to scratch something on his face. You look down and away, into your cup of noodles — seemingly choosing to eat your food rather than torment Rin. 

.

.

You had told one of Japan’s star football players he smelled nice after he had complimented your scent — to his face the other day. More than your odd sentiment, the delivery was not any better. It seemed as though a wet spot would have a better time expressing itself than yourself.

Frankly, you were nearing twenty-three, working at a Lawson, close to graduating with a scholarship to graduate school on standby, awaiting your arrival — and Rin Itoshi of all people had fallen gracefully into your lap.

If this was the universe’s way of owing up to all of the debts it was due; it had overpaid.

Still, he was pretty to look at.

So when Rin left everyday, with a nod and the question “Will I see you tomorrow?” all you ever could do — all you ever chose to do — was nod.

.

.

.

You were in a mood that much Rin could tell. 

Rin never had a sister, and his mother was much like him, so he did not really understand the minds of women. He liked to believe he was well-versed in most things, but when it came to being charismatic and likeable at opportune moments — moments when it really mattered — he has never been able to get his footing down.

Yet, with you, he does not need to try.

“I’m twenty-three,” you randomly state, sitting on cardboard boxes filled with stock at the back of the store.

It is lightly raining on a Tuesday afternoon, and your eyes are razor focused on the water that drips from the pipe on the roof of the Lawson, joining its droplets to form a sizeable puddle on the pavement. Much like the rain, Rin has decided to keep you company (follow you from the back door and quietly take a seat next to you) for your 15 minute break.

“Oh,” Rin blinks at your proclamation, grabbing a shrimp chip from the bag you direct his way, “Nice.”

You grab for one at the same time he does, and Rin’s heart jumps at the softness of your hand against his. Like always, you never notice. You only grab for a handful that you ungraciously bring to your mouth to chew. Rin grabs two of them and eats it in a small motion.

“I still feel nine, at most.” You grumble through a mouthful of food. Rin would find it to be disgusting but you are the culprit doing it.

“Is that a good thing?”

Rin narrows in his sight to the column of your neck. You gaze upwards, eyebrows furrowed — almost as though you are in pain. Rin wishes he could understand it, he wishes he could be able to take it away. Seeing you so distraught feels wrong.

“I… don’t know. I just… feel weird.” You whisper, “I thought I had so much time on my hands. And, I know I still do it’s just— I wish I’d have a week to sort my brain out. I always feel like I’m falling behind.”

Rin watches as you shake your head, and a solemn smile appears on your lips. He notes the way you gaze at the rain, the small clench of your hands. You remind him a lot of himself.

“You’re not, though.” He states. Your head turns back to him, laughing a little, and though his resolve shakes a bit, he remains looking at you.

“Itoshi-san — do you not ever feel scared? For what is to come and what has already gone?” You question softly, almost as though you were sharing a secret. Rin sees the old man from the izakaya in your eyes, taunting him for an answer. And, after several months of pondering and being tormented by the thoughts of you, he has finally been able to come up with an answer. 

“No.” He soundly says, “No for both. I don’t carry regrets and I don’t know why I’d care for what’s to come. Can’t do anything about it except let it hit me.”

A crinkle forms between your eyebrows, as you raise them in question.

“Does that not… hurt you?”

Rin shakes his head at the accusation. “Sometimes… but, I’m used to it, I guess.”

The rain seems to get louder. You only seem to get more worried. Rin wants to tell you to stop, he was about to, but then you turned your cross legged figure fully towards him. Your knee touches his torso and Rin suddenly finds himself drawn to your everything.

“And you are content with that?” You murmur.

Rin can only but nod, watching as a droplet that had made its way onto your cheek travels down your neck.

Your lips twitch, to stifle a laugh or a cry — Rin cannot tell. You sigh, wiping at your face, then, bunching your hands together. You gaze up at him through long eyelashes, choosing to laugh, but it comes out cruel — almost bitter.

“This… thing inside of me — it has become so loud I do not know if it is something entirely else or a piece of me I’ve let take those hits. It’s… disarming.”

He stares at you for a moment, swallowing your statement whole. The taste is sombre and sweet, innocent and yet wise all at once. It is all too familiar.

“Let it come, then.” Rin whispers, “It’s only a matter of time ‘till it leaves.”

The wilted sakura tree planted near Lawson shakes from a gust of wind that appears, the last of its petals meeting the dull green of the grass and the pavement. You turn to watch, and Rin’s eyes never leave your face. When you turn, a mischievous, juvenile smile rests on your lips.

“Hm, Itoshi-san, you sound a lot like my grandfather, you know?”

Rin stands up at the comparison, feeling light headed from your laughter. He puts his hoodie up and begins to walk away — leaving his umbrella.

“Itoshi-san! Itoshi-san!” You yell after him. Rin’s heart shakes.

A small hand suddenly wraps itself around his wrist. He doesn’t turn, but you appear in front of him, with his opened umbrella he left behind. Rin suddenly feels the scalding want to touch you, but he knows he should not.

“Please don’t be mad, I—”

He is out of breath as he asks you, “Would you… like to see a movie with me? Next Wednesday evening?”

You still, like a stray dog that just has been lent some food. Hesitantly, your hands grip onto his umbrella, holding it up high to fit his long frame, and yours.

Your voice is unbelievably small as you say, “The middle of the week?”

Rin blinks, slightly furrowing his eyebrows.

“You don’t work Wednesdays… do you?”

It sounds more like an accusation rather than a question, he half-realises. He notices you are standing on your toes to accommodate him under his own damn umbrella, so he grabs it from you and fits the two of you.

The rain is louder from where you both stand. The sun begins to shine through the clouds.

“Yeah.” you nod, “I— I don’t.”

“So…?”

You look down at your feet. Rin narrowly tries to take a peek but you start to look up at him so he switches. You smile, teeth showing and cheeks delicately enhancing your facial features. Rin pinches his thigh.

“I would love to go see a movie with you, Itoshi-san.”

Rin bites down a smile to hide his enthusiasm. Women like that, don’t they? You continue to smile at him, reaching for his jacket pocket, which takes him aback.

“What—What are you—….!”

You pout, your hand now in his pocket, gripping onto his phone.

“You will need my number to contact me, will you not?”

Rin looks down. He feels the warmth of your hand in his pocket and he stills. He tries to comprehend the situation, and, as soon as he does, he simply nods.

“Yes—,” he stammers, robotic with his delivery, “Yes. I… I will need that.”

You only but grin. And, somehow, Rin has acquired your phone number, and you are standing so close to him. It ends too soon. You give his phone back to him, and he thinks he will never buy a newer one after this.

“See you, Itoshi-san,” you murmur the familiar farewell, letting him indulge in one more of your smiles, before you run off into the Lawson.

Rin stands, staring at the building and the small door you ran inside from. He puts his hand in the pocket your hand was in just moments ago, and clenches the fabric as he makes his way back to his hotel.

.

.

.

The cinema he chose was a quaint one where he would hopefully go inconspicuous to any of the staff and movie-goers. Rin does not want to bring you into his life like this — but the older he has gotten, the more selfish he has become. His mother has told him it is good that he is starting to express his wants — that it’d come late but at long last it had finally arrived. He’d only smiled and continued to press her feet.

It is 6:24pm when you come out of your apartment and approach the rented car Rin had purchased for this occasion. He’d try to envision what you’d be wearing for the days leading up — making himself clammy at the most execrable moments — but none of his ideas could have possibly lived up to the real thing.

You don a simple dress and a coat. Rin has never seen your legs before — at least not without some sort of cargo pants or jeans. He positions himself in the driver’s seat, wiping the sweat of his hands onto his pants. He forgets to walk out and open the passenger door for you — he’d planned to do it in his head. But he’s lost all sense of prior wants.

You smile as you look open the door of the vehicle with tinted windows. Rin swallows spit down his throat.

“You—,” he starts, his grip tightening around the steering wheel, “You look—”

You seem to note his predicament, and beat him to it with a cheshire grin.

“You look very handsome as well, Itoshi-san.”

Rin’s heart pounds. He nods at your statement, not being able to fully express his emotions. You only but smile, putting your hands in your lap.

Talking with you on the ride to the cinema doesn’t feel like a chore. You never continue the conversation yourself, letting him lead the way. It feels nice — to know that somebody doesn’t want to hear his opinion just for the sake of filling in the silence. 

Rin doesn’t quite know when this started. 

You reach it in ample time. The cinema is quite old and Western in that it makes patrons wait in a line to purchase their tickets manually. Rin doesn’t mind it, not when you are beside him. He idly eyes the horror movies that are running, and is pleasantly surprised to find that The Silence of the Lambs is rerunning. It’s with the season, considering it is early October. He scratches at his wrist, ridding his mind of watching such a film with you.

“Have you found something you wanna watch, Itoshi-san?”

Your voice disarms him. His pupils widen and his eyebrows raise. He looks down at you and shakes his head, pressing his lips tightly. You furrow your brow.

“You sure? I’m fine with anything, really.”

Rin stares at your encouraging smile. Have you been watching him? Observing him in the same way he’d been over you? The thought makes him feel light. He bites the inside of his cheek.

“Ah, is— that, okay?” He gestures his eyes to the horror movie’s poster. Yours follow, and they seem to light up at the idea.

“Sure, that’s fine with me.”

A sudden wave of relief washes over him. He has not scared you off, yet.

“I never thought you’d be into watching horror, Itoshi-san. I picked you more for a silent movie type.”

Rin pales.

.

.

The movie comes and goes. Rin had forgotten to pay you attention midway, but when he turned to his left during the screening and found you just as engrossed, your hand wrapped around his bicep — a gesture you made seem just as natural as waking up in the morning — he could not put a name to the feeling he felt.

After the movie was over, you reached for his hand and held it. He let you.

You told him you felt the urge to drink some beer and put your feet in sand, so he drove the two of you to Kamakura Yuigahama with a can of 12.

It is 10:30pm, and he is seated on a beachside watching as the waves crash to the shore, beside you. You lean your head against his arm.

“Do you ever miss Japan?” You whisper to him, drawing nonsensical lines into the sand as he plays with the hem of your coat, “You know, when you leave.”

This feels nice. Rin is starting to like this.

“No. Not as much as I had expected.” He answers outright and truthfully.

“Don’t you miss the food? Your mother? Father?”

“Ah, maybe. I call my mother most days, though. So I don’t miss much else.”

“Hm.”

He feels you still. He stops teasing the fabric of your coat, and turns his lead to look down at you. His brows etch into question.

“Why are you asking?”

You smile a tiny one, clutching onto his arm a little tighter.

“I… want to leave someday too.” You murmur into your beer can, ending your sentence short.

The lack of elaboration takes Rin by surprise. He’d never taken you to be the type to run — but, then again, you were the most exciting and spontaneous creature in his life, as of late.

“Where’d you go?”

You turn to him, slightly lifting your lips off from the can, smiling. Rin feels his hands grow hot.

“New Zealand.” 

Rin grins slightly at the speed of your answer, “You had that ready.”

You giggle, and Rin can feel the hotness of your cheeks against his bicep as you press your face close to his body. The telltale of the drunken daze in your eyes is enough to elicit a fire in the pit of Rin’s stomach. It’s also enough for him to crack open another can.

“I want to study there.” You murmur after a little bit of quiet, stretching your legs out.

“You’ll like it there. They have nice lakes everywhere.”

“You’ve been there?”

“It’s where I land on my connecting flight sometimes.”

Rin observes the way your eyes widen. His palms grow sweaty at the way you grin at his admission.

“Where else have you been?”

So Rin tells you everything. He tells you about his brief episode at Blue Lock. Tells you of his brother, how he’s recently rekindled their relationship. Informs you of how his mother, though well intentioned, scares him sometimes with conversations revolving around his future. He tells you that he’d lied to you the other day — that sometimes when it really matters, small things like that can frighten him. You tell him it is okay, that you lie sometimes when you’re afraid as well. Rin tells you of all the grody press conferences he’s been to, and how he’s never felt comfortable under the lens of cameras when he knows they’re on him. He describes the beaches in California with vivid descriptions that spill out of him with such ease that he starts second guessing himself. He tells you of the views from the hotel rooms he’s stayed in from Paris, Buenos Aires and Rio. Rin finds it a bit uncanny how easily he can open himself up to someone he’s met months ago, and cannot do the same for people he has known for years. Your quiet reactions and laughs you’d let out every now and then when he explains his rigid interactions and downright brutal past with his team members draw the fire in his chest to only implode and rise to the surface.

“Ahh, that sounds so cool… I wish I could leave right now.” You whine to him like a small child, and Rin feels the urge to hold you even closer to him.

“What about your parents? They’d let you leave?” He murmurs.

At this, you only giggle. Rin’s brows furrow.

“Hah, yeah. They wouldn’t care, honestly.”

Rin stills at your admission. He slightly tilts his head downwards to try and meet your eyes. “That… upsets you.”

He tries to word it as a question, but it comes off more like a statement.

You smile, but it does not reach your eyes. It looks like the kind of smile one would give when they reached a point of clarity they’d been searching for, for a long time. It is all too obvious to Rin.

“No, I like it that way,” you start, “They know that I don’t like it when people care too much about me. I don’t trust myself half the time… makes me feel too … ahh… what’s the word? Dependable — when others put all their faith in me. Don’t know what I’d do with all of it.”

You still after your long rambling. It did not feel that way to Rin, but it seems that it felt that way for you. He wanted you to open up more. But by the way you seemed to have shrunk around his arms makes Rin believe you are not ready. Under any other circumstances, in any other day — he would have probably given up by now. And yet, you keep making him want more. He does not know what to do with himself either.

“Ahhh how much have I had? Yuki-san is going to kill me tomorrow.” You giggle, staring accusingly at your beer can. Rin’s lips tremble.

“You can blame me.”

You gaze up at him with a cheshire-like expression. It holds childish mischief. It makes Rin smile at you naturally.

The moment is gone far too soon.

“It’s okay. I’m thinking of putting in my two weeks’ notice, anyway.”

Rin freezes. He thinks you can sense the sudden shift in his mood because you suddenly look his way.

His voice is soft when he asks, “You’re quitting?”

You rub your arm and huff through your nostrils. “Ah, yes. I’ve saved enough and the semester is almost over. I had to eventually find a job in my field.”

Rin knew this had to end eventually. It was why he did not want to get involved with anyone when he had returned home. Only, with you, he had naively assumed that he’d end this on his own terms — that he would be the bearer of all of the vile insults you might have unleashed upon him. He should have known better when he first met you that you could not afford to lose.

“Oh.”

He looks down at his lap, a slight timber in his voice.

“Right. Okay.”

You clutch onto his arm, not knowing how it sends chills up his spine and down his throat.

“Don’t miss me too much,” you tease him.

Rin can only smile.

.

.

The drive back to your apartment is quiet. You fell asleep, unaware of Rin’s internal conflict. He did not want to say goodbye just yet. All his life Rin did not particularly have a problem with shutting people out of his life. If anything, it came naturally to him. It was the only thing he knew as far as it came to personal relations. Hurt them before they can hurt you. Yet unlike his past sentiments, you were not football — you were unlike anything or anyone he has met before. You came into his life as soft as the rain, and still did not leave him dry despite the passing months. It was refreshing, but he does not deserve any of it when he does not even know where to put himself yet.

You wake up as he pulls into your lot under a street lamp over a visitor parking area. You rub your eyes, yawning and stretching your limbs. Rin can only look at you with haggard breath. He rubs his hands on his pants, gets out first, and opens the door, lending you his hand to hold which you accept.

Walking women to their door can only mean one thing. Rin is highly aware of the way you cling to him. The fire in his loins and his desire for you grow tenfold with each step. When you lean against your door, clinging to him with innocent glee and wrap your arms around his neck, Rin furrows his eyebrows. You place a tender hand on his cheek, pouting at his expression, and his lips tremble as you lean closer.

“Itoshi-san,” you whisper softly, beautifully, seductively. Rin has never wanted anything more in his life.

But he cannot. Not when he knows he will have to leave in the morning. Not when he knows he will carry old memories of you and him. Not when he knows he will never be able to enter a Lawson again without the thought of you occurring in his mind.

He lays a firm hand on your waist, raises himself, and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. He softly pets your cheek as you stare up at him with such naivety and confusion it pains him.

“I will… see you,” he murmurs, “soon.”

You look down, bashful. Rin swallows at the sight. He wants to hold you — he wants to tell you that — but he can’t.

“Right— right,” you whisper. You look up at him after collecting yourself and nod, weakly smiling. “See you— see you.”

Rin nods. With bated breath, he lets go of you. With one final glance, he walks towards his car.

He sits back in the driver’s seat, watching from inside as the door to your apartment closes shut. He touches his lips with his index and middle finger, releases a shaky sigh, and slumps against the steering wheel.

What will he do now?

.

.

.

Rin does not even tell you he is leaving in person. He had planned to, but the sudden wave of nausea that had hit him made him unable to walk towards something he knew he would never see again.

He tried going to sleep a couple of days after the small date he had with you — but found himself utterly incapable of doing so. He watched nearly four cult classics back to back, and, still, none of them managed to lull him to bed.

It was nearing 3:30am when Rin messaged you.

(03:21) >> I’m leaving next week.

You don’t answer right away. You respond the next morning — which was to be expected. Rin had only slept until 6am and was anxiously awaiting your reply.

(09:30) >> Oh.

(09:32) >> Well, we can still message, right?

He remembers staring at your hopeful messages with a grim expression.

(09:36) >> We shouldn’t

(09:36) >> I can’t.

You take a while to respond.

(09:42) >> Oh. Okay

(09:42) >> Was it something I did?

(09:43) >> Sorry for going somewhere so public. It was selfish of me

Rin sits himself down on his head, rubbing his forehead. He’s an asshole. He wants to tell you no. He wants to tell you that he did not care about the fact his name was buzzing on every Japanese tabloid due to being seen with you. He doesn’t care about any of that — he only cares about you.

But only one of those things does he type.

(09:46) >> No

(09:46) >> It wasn’t your fault

Your following reply causes a dull ache in his heart.

(09:47) >> Ah. Okay

(09:47) >> Have a nice trip, Itoshi-san

And because you are so much like him — like everything Rin has ever wanted — you don’t ask him if he can stay for you. You do not tell him those three familiar words of meeting again — because deep down you already know, you never will.  

.

.

.

Rin is by himself once more. He’s stopped buying energy drinks.

He lied again, about leaving the following week. He did not know how to hurt you properly. It felt wrong. He feels sick. Rin did not know how to treat you the way he has been treating everyone else in his life? How did he treat everyone before you?

Rin arrives at his mother’s home late in the evening, nearly midnight, unannounced and bare.

His mother opens the door, staring at him, her child, like a stranger. She clutches onto the door with confusion, her brows furrowed just the same.

“Rin-chan?”

Rin falls into her arms, resting his head in the crook of her neck. He lets out a shaky breath he did not realise he was holding. His mother stills around him, and Rin half-sensed his father approach the genkan as his mother shares a hushed dialogue, still unmoving.

Rin shuts his eyes.

“Don’t you miss the food? Your mother? Father?”

He has. He has. He has. He has. He has. He has.

A second passes, and he feels the familiar softness of tender, now older hands rub up and down his back. Rin only tightens harder, not wanting to fall anymore than he already had.

“It’s okay,” his mother softly whispers a lullaby he had missed dearly, “It will be okay.”

.

.

Steamed rice, miso soup, yakizakana and umeboshi: Rin had a full brunch he did not realise he missed until he woke up the next day in his childhood bedroom with the familiar scent greeting him. He has been putting off visiting properly for a while. When his mother brought him into his room, untouched and the same way he left it when he left nearly a decade ago — never looking back, the wave of nostalgia and loneliness that crashed over him surrendered him vulnerable and a shell of his former self. He laid on his futon, a tad smaller than his frame, and slept for hours.

He sits at the kotatsu, and he watches the wind chimes blow from the open engawa — one of his few favourite hobbies to do with his mother.

As she brings a pot of warm green tea to pour into his cup, and as Rin raises it towards her so she does need to bend her back, she smiles at him with mischief.

“She was quite pretty,” Rin nearly chokes, but his mother only laughs. “When will you bring her over?”

Taking the now filled cup of green tea towards himself, Rin looks away. He can feel his ears warm from the embarrassment.

“Mother…”

“Alright, alright, I will stop.” She giggles, heading back to the kitchen.

Rin had half the idea that it would end up like this. You, ending up in the tabloids because of him and his mothers finding out about it like this. He hadn’t seen any of it firsthand — the anxiety became too much — but his manager had assured him your identity still remained a mystery to the general public. It was the only reason Rin was able to get out of bed. He wouldn’t have known what he would have done had your life been completely altered and torn into pieces by the media who knows nothing about you — of your gentle disposition and caring nature.

Rin sighs, taking a sip of his green tea as his mother washes dishes ten feet away from him.

Despite his better judgement, he still misses you. If he tries hard enough, he can almost hear you ask him if he does.

.

.

After nearly a week of moping in his own sorrow on the wooden floor of the engawa, staring at the bush warblers inhabiting the apple tree he’d planted when he was seven years old with his father — Rin had not expected any new guests to arrive.

That is when the familiar voice which had caused him great suffering for a portion of his adolescence had appeared.

“Why the hell are you here?”

Rin turns around, and sees his brother. His eyes soften. “Nii-san.”

Sae replies to his wobbly greeting with a scoff. He approaches Rin, carrying a large plastic bag of food, no doubt. His mother had told him that whenever Sae came, she would prepare premade meals for him — and that he should begin to do the same to keep his health well. Rin had only but brushed it off, not believing his mother. He should have known better than to doubt her.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Sae asks again, sitting next to Rin.

“Ah,” Rin avoids his gaze, looking down at his lap,“Complication.”

Sae sighs. “Avoiding your problems again, you idiot?”

Rin does not respond, because he knows that is what he is exactly doing — he does not want to admit it out loud. His older brother understands this, of course. Sae has always understood him — it had taken Rin nearly a decade to realise this — and nothing could possibly slip by him.

“You’re a greater asshole than I thought.” Sae’s insult does not hurt Rin as much — but his next retort certainly adds salt to the injury.

“I don’t care about this girl, but you have some balls for coming here thinking it’d fix anything.”

Rin looks towards his brother with enlarged pupils. Sae rolls his eyes at his expression. He’d seen the news — it was probably hard not to when his surname was involved.

“I… don’t want to hurt her.” Rin admits.

Sae brings his fist to his head, causing Rin to close his eyes to await the blow. Yet it never comes. A light knock is the only thing felt, he opens them again.

“So don’t, dumbass.” Sae mocks him.

Rin stares at his brother in awe. Sae had carried himself far more easily than Rin could ever amount to. They were fundamentally different in many ways, and, despite this, Rin could not help but think that he was right.

“Thank you, nii-san.”

Sae stares at Rin like a wet sock, and Rin can’t help but laugh. He has missed this. He has missed home. He can finally admit this with peace.

.

.

.

It is a Thursday afternoon in late November, and it is the first snow of the season.

Light flurries graze the ground, the young and elderly both seem to buzz with some sort of newfound strength, and Rin Itoshi has been following you for the past twenty one minutes (give or take) after you had gotten off your bus to pick up a coffee from Doutor. Like some sort of stray cat. You wanted him to suffer for a while, though, so you maintained ignorance and went about your stroll.

You find yourself in a public park that is utterly abandoned (in the sense that no one is around). You find an empty beach, take a sip of your warm latte, close your eyes, and sigh when you can still feel him around. Why he has not yet made himself known, is a mystery. If it were anyone else you would have pretended to never notice them.

But it was him, and he was trying.

“You know — I have never understood the concept of stalkers. How do such individuals with so much time on their hands function in society? They must be some sort of anomaly, I figured.”

You turn to him, where he stands like a stray cat behind a lamp as though that possibly serve as a hiding place for this six foot seven tall man.

“But you, I did not expect that of all people.”

Rin turns his gaze downwards. It would make you laugh until your stomach hurts, but you cannot afford to be anything but serious at the moment. You are mad at him.

“Itoshi-san.” You call for him.

He walks towards where you sit with sincere humility, a gift bag and bouquet in hand which you eye curiously.

“I’m sorry.”

You cross your arms over your chest, and your left leg over your right. You set your coffee down on the bench — staring a hole in Rin’s convoluted face.

“Why have you been following me?”

“You… knew?”

“Mhm,” you nod, and you can see the pink that rises to his cheek “Since I left the store. Am I that unapproachable?”

“No. It’s me.”

You laugh at his comment, you cannot help it. Rin flinches a little, you notice, and you realise you do not like to torment him — despite him relishing in tormenting you.

“Don’t worry. We are in a pretty secluded park. The most interesting thing that happens here is when deers come out at dawn.”

“No.” Rin blurts almost right after your monologue, taking you for surprise. “I mean — that’s not what I care about. The press.”

“Oh,” 

He presents the bouquet of tulips to you with bashful, childlike anxiety. His brows are furrowed and he looked like he was in pain. A heat blooms in your chest.

“For you,” he murmurs.

You crane an eyebrow.

“For what?”

“You’re twenty-three, aren’t you?”

You shake your head and look at him, confused,“Yes. Have been for nearly a month, Itoshi-san.”

Rin looks down once more, but he continues to hold out the gift bag and bouquet for you. He is too cute if this is how he apologises.

You take them from him, and he looks back up at you with light in his eyes. The same light you saw on the beach, and you cannot help but want to be close to him.

“Would… you like to sit?” You pat the space next to you, and Rin responds by taking it.

The same quietness that had engulfed you both at the beach returns, bringing a sense of coldness with it. You knew this relation was never sustainable, but a selfish, injudicious part of you hoped Rin would follow after you. You did not want him to drop everything, because that would have scared you, but you did not expect him to cut you out as though you never existed. 

“Has the… news been bothering you?”

Rin’s question breaks you out of your self-loathing. You uncross your arms and legs, and bunch your hands together in your lap.

“Ah, no. I’m not online much anyways. Though my friends were pissed that I did not tell them about you.”

Rin huffs, which, to you, counts as a laugh.  

“I… enjoy talking to you,” he starts, “Do you enjoy talking to me?”

The statement and question are so childish and fatuous you almost laugh. 

“Mmm,” you stretch out the sound, gazing up to fake your speculation. When you see Rin clench his jaw, you stop and smile at him.

“Yes. I do.”

“You shouldn’t.” He says,  “You shouldn’t enjoy talking to me. I am not a… nice person.”

You furrow your eyebrows. His mood swings were phenomenal.

“In what sense? That you stalk girls on a Thursday afternoon?”

“I’ve… I’ve never done that before. Never done this before.”

The quiet confession has deemed you quiet and unknowing. Rin looks at you as though you know the answer to his problem. You have an inkling.

“You are not sure.” You state the assumption more as a fact, but that elicits a nod from him.

“Yes.”

You look close into his eyes. Rin Itoshi is nothing but a foolish man, you register right then and there. He has never but been a man with you. 

“Do you want it bad enough?” You ask.

“Yes.”

“Then you will do it. Won’t you?” You whisper to him softly,  “No matter what I say you are going to.”

“I… can’t give you everything. Not yet.”

You scoff at this. “I am not a child, Itoshi-san. Neither are you.”

Rin is rendered silent. You sigh to yourself, assuming you have overdone it. Placing the bouquet gently into the bag, you hold the gift bag and your cup of coffee in your hands and stand in front of him. Rin gazes silently up at you.

“Give me a call when you are ready.” You offer a gentle smile, hoping it would make up for your scolding, “I have to go, have a workshop in an hour.”

“Is that why you’re like that?” He whispers, standing up. You tilt your head, keeping still. 

“Like what?”

“So pretty.”

You bite your lip, your heart skipping beat at the casual way he says his compliment. It is dangerous, the hold he has on you with just a few words.

“Have you gotten taller?” You ask, bringing a hand to his cheek. He slightly tilts down to accommodate your shorter frame, pressing his face closer into your palm. The beating grows louder — you can hear it in your ears.

“I don’t know,” He murmurs quietly, shutting his eyes.

“We can be friends. Would that be okay?” You whisper softly, pausing your ministrations.

He puts a large hand over yours — the one still on his face that was caressing his cheek and hair.

“I have never been good at friends.”

Rin’s response takes you aback, and you feel warm despite having finished your coffee. You bite your lip, trying to hold back a smile. Your attempts are deemed futile when Rin presses his lips against the palm of your hand, causing yours to tremble.

“You never once called. You never said goodbye. That really hurt me, you know?”

You don’t realise your voice is shaky until it comes out. Rin frowns which only makes you more nervous. You have not wanted anything for yourself — you have managed to live all alone. Now that he has come, you do not think you can go back to that. The snowflakes continue to fall, surrounding you both in a serene atmosphere. The park is quiet and peaceful, providing a space for you to connect on a deeper level. Rin takes a deep breath, his gaze fixed on you.

“I’m sorry.” He says again, placing a hand on your face. It is large and rougher than yours, with calluses you’ve touched and wondered about where he has gotten them from. You want to find out the origin of each one, everyday.

“I want you to call me,” you state and he nods.

Taking your hand away, you place a quick kiss on his fingers as he moves his. 

“See you, Rin-san,” you bid him the familiar farewell, and leave him in the park alone.

Rin stares at you as you leave. You feel his eyes on you until you cannot anymore. 

He gazes down at his hands, rough from the years, and yet you treat them with a type of softness they have never been subjected to before. Despite his years, Rin really does not know anything.

All he knows is you, and that’s all that Rin cares about for now. 

#writing #i was rewatching the hunger games and couldn’t help one reference 😭 it fit so perfectly #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x fem reader #rin itoshi

[hanihazeljade]

Three Weeks

As the snow fell into the streets of Gotham, covering her land with white sheet, he stepped out of the plane. He shivers. He missed the deadly coldness of his hometown. The pollution never seemed to change back when he left 7 years ago. He sighed, white mist blowing out of his mouth. He will only need to stay here for three weeks. Three weeks and he will go back to Japan.

After many years of being away to his adopted family, Tim comes back to Gotham for Cassandra and Stephanie's wedding.

(CW: flashbacks, negligence, swear words, a badass Timothy)

Tim looks outside of the bus. His eyes watch the streets of Gotham. Christmas lights are on as it was 5 days away from Christmas. He watched and watched, like he always did, as classical music blasted to his airpods until the bus hit the stop to Bristol.

In all honesty, he could ask Alfred to fetch him but the man is now too fragile to his liking to be doing him favours. He rather takes the 40 minute walk from the station to Wayne Manor. He doesn’t mind the cold, he actually prefers to be freezing every single moment of his life. He doesn’t want to be reminded of the burning desert in Iraq.

With his suitcase on his tow, he started walking to the peaceful street of Bristol. The snow gently falls into his face and quickly melts but some falls into his lashes and brows and he couldn’t bring himself to wipe it off. He likes the small blur on his sight, it shows that he doesn’t have to stay vigilant in this city. Twenty minutes into the walk, he saw the Drake Manor, still in its pristine shape, hopefully. He walked as he tried to look past the gates of the once house of his, snow is piling up but he will be visiting it once he gets his stuff unpacked.

As he starts to get closer and closer to the Wayne Manor, nostalgia hits him. The good memories flood his mind. Bruce giving them a small pat or rarely hugs, Dick trying to spoil all of his siblings, Cass putting glitter bombs to the most unique places together with Stephanie, Jason joking his death again and again, Damian giving them Alfred the Cat as a stress reliever, and Alfred giving them hot cocoa on the worst days and cookies on the best.

But obviously, if it's all just good memories, he will not leave Gotham. The bad to the worst memories starts to resurface. The threat of Arkham, the throat-slitting episode, the pushing to his death story, the I choose to follow Batman rather than to be honest with you thing, the hellish training with Lady Shiva and many more that he couldn’t remember. He shook his head to remove those memories. It’s been more than a decade since that happened and he has healed already. No need to reopen old wounds.

His time in Japan definitely made him more aware that he doesn’t need other people to love him. He can just do it himself. He starts to sleep for more than 6 hours a night. He eats three times a day, sometimes with a balanced diet, sometimes just pure sodium for ramen or just straight up scooping Nutella out of the jar. He now prioritises himself over others. He works for himself and not to get approval from anyone. He is now him, just Tim. A simple Tim that loves to photograph and now be the object of his photographs. 

Many things change over the course of time. He forgives the Waynes but he will never call himself one. Waynes never treats him like family, except for Cass, bless her pure heart, and he is now giving it back, the treatment of an acquaintance. Not family. Not friends. But acquaintances. That’s all the Waynes are to him now. Because god forbid that his teenage self is simply obsessed with them. He rolled his eyes on the thought.

As he was letting his thoughts wander, he finally arrived at the prestigious Wayne Manor. The gates are open so he let himself into the other five minute walk of the driveway. As he stared at the old oak wood door, he sighed, trying to compose himself as he will be in their presence for the next three weeks. After trying to console himself, he knocks hoping that it will be Alfred who will open the door for him. After a few minutes of waiting on the porch, the door opened, revealing the foyer of the Manor and Alfred standing in front of him.

“Hi, Alfred.” Tim smiled at the old man.

Alfred, still in shock but smiled back to him, “Welcome back, Master Tim.”

And then suddenly there is a commotion behind Alfred, making the two gentlemen on the doorway look. It shows Damian and Jason. Seems like the two are trying to race to see which one will get to the door first. Childish competitions, like what brothers do. Jason and Damian look at them, first to Alfred and next to Tim. And he looked back at them, giving them a gentle smile.

“Hi, Timmerly. You look different.” Jason spoke out of the blue.

“Thank you, Jason.” He said, “You look different, too.” he added. Jason has indeed changed. The white stripe of hair due to the dip is still there but the face and the body itself evolved. Jason looked taller than he last saw him, The tight wool sweater emphasises the bulk body of Jason. And that face of his, is always exceptional but more relaxed.

There he heard a cough and gave his attention to the person. “Timothy, you look alright.” Damian said, standing in his glorious 6 foot 3. His tanned skin is honeyed perfection and his build is more similar to Bruce and Jason. Green eyes looked at him like it was captivating his soul. The Demon Brat is gone and was replaced by a hulking man.

He was shocked for a fleeting second before replying, “Thank you, Damian.”

“Young Masters, as much as I like that the three of you are conversing like normal human beings, Master Timothy needs to go inside first. It is freezing out there.” Alfred interrupts them and tells Jason and Damian that he is still indeed on the porch. Jason without waiting a moment, went and grabbed his suitcase and he proceeded to go inside the manor. 

Tim asked Alfred, “Where will Jason put my suitcase?”

“In your room, Master Tim. I mean, your old room.”

“Oh.” He just said as he took off his scarf and coat and gave it to Alfred, as he left the three on the foyer.

He starts walking into the Manor and walks past the library with the rest that didn’t meet him on the door. Steph and Cass are cuddling each other on the couch while Bruce is on the loveseat fiddling something in the tablet, probably about Wayne Enterprise, and Dick is on one of the bean bags that is scattered in the library. The first one to notice him is Cass, of course.

“Little brother, welcome.” She said as she reached out one of her arms to him. Her acknowledgement of his presence makes everyone in the room aware of his existence.

“Timmy!” Dick shouted as went to him and hugged him. It kinda still startled him a little bit, but he awkwardly hugged Dick back. 

Bruce gave him a smile, “Welcome back, Tim.”

Steph hit his back, “When Cass actually told us that you will come for our wedding, we didn’t believe her.“

Tim touched the spot Steph hit, “I would not miss it for the world.” Then he walked to Cass, “Hey, sis.” Cass smiled back at him. “Winter wedding, really?” 

“Hey, winter weddings are beautiful. And Cass will look like an angel.”

“And you are the demon that made Cassandra fall down from heaven.” A voice joined them, it’s Damian.

“Hey! That’s mean!”

The chaos and noises are relatively relaxing but when he yawns, he excuses himself. “Going to sleep, Timmy?” He nodded and replied with, “Jetlagged.”

Tim tried to remember where his room was. And thank god, he found it with no anomalies. He entered the room and saw the room that he left. The room is completely gone with cans of energy drinks or packaging of junk foods. The bed is comforting as he remembers, he saw his suitcase next to the nightstand. He opens it and gets a fitted cashmere turtleneck and fleece sweatpants. He took a quick shower and changed. He laid down on the bed and let sleep take him.

 He woke up the sun already down and darkness already took the city. He grabbed his phone and looked at what time it was. 8:05 am. Huh?? Oh, his phone is still in the Japanese Time Zone. He quickly changes it and freshens up. He looked at the wide mirror in his bathroom, and assessed himself. He knows he changed when he moved to Japan. His toned body was dissolved into a more lean one. His hair was maintained into a shoulder length, but his hair is shining with a red undertone in the right light. He has an ear piercing. His face was more round and yet still sharp. He got taller but still the smallest to Wayne, even Cass is taller than him. No, he is not salty about it.

He scooped up a handful of water and splashed his face and hair. Once he could feel his rationality and sanity came back to him, he dried his face and went down to the kitchen. He needs something to ingest in his body, anything. He saw Alfred was making something in the kitchen.

“Master Tim, you are finally awake. Will you please call the others for dinner?”

“Sure, Alfred.”

He found everyone in the largest living room. Damian and Dick playing chess, Damian is winning. Stephanie is doing something together with Duke. Bruce is with Cass flipping in the catalogue of whatever they still need to add to the wedding.

“Hey, Alfred told me to get you all. Dinner is ready.”

Dinner is rather peaceful, but rather uncomfortable. Whenever his eyes linger for a little second longer on a dish, Dick is already putting it on his plate. Damian kept on giving him a piece of whatever Damian thought he liked. Jason is spoon feeding him on dishes on what Jason thinks he will like. If this continues, he will be fat and as a model he would rather not have that. The Japanese Modelling World is so strict when it comes to thinness of their own.

But after that dinner, he sighed as walked to his room, he grabbed a velvet box and went to what he thinks is Cass' room.

He knocked, then he opened the door. Waynes are known for just busting your door open before coming in, because apparently, privacy is a social construct. Tim is not a Wayne anymore and also he is one of the decent people who actually knocks before coming inside of someone’s personal space.

“Hey Cass. I got you something.” he said as he looked at his sister.

“What is it?”

Instead of answering, he pulled a velvet box and gave it to Cass. Cass accepts it and opens the blue velvet box, revealing a silver hair comb pin. Cass looked at him with huge eyes. He smiled at his sister, “My mother wore that at her wedding. She says my grandmother and my great grandmother also wear that to their wedding, and I feel like I am not the rightful owner of such a piece.”

Cass hugged him. He missed how tight Cass hugs him. The comfortable warmth that brings pleasant memories only, none of those scorching heat of Iraq. Maybe, maybe he can stay here for three weeks for Cass. For Cass.

#fanfic #dcu #timothy jackson drake #damian wayne #jason todd #bruce wayne #tim drake #cass #steph #dick grayson

[dellalyra]

FAMILY FORMATIONS - PART TWELVE

Summary: He’s home. He’s here. Maybe, you can mend the shattered pieces of your lives.

CW: I’m sorry this is so angsts but like so fluffy too?? But angst? Idk it’s a hot mess of emotions. Swearing, loss, grief, grief, grief, like one suggestive sentence.

A/N: do we like voting on what comes next?? I think that’s fun. Anyway - legit kinda proud of this, I’ve written like a million thirsts on how fucking delicious unsealed gojo looks but I was so excited to explore the toll and emotions of the prison realm situation on the FF gang and also show that there is no couple more healthy and solid than Y/N and Satoru. As always, requests open and appreciated x x

MASTERLIST

Recommended Listening:

The Parting Glass - (I like the Hozier version, works well for Y/N and Gojo discussing the losses)

What He Wrote - Laura Marling

Set Fire To The Third Bar - Snow Patrol

The Blower's Daughter - Damien Rice (the turnaround)

I am the AntiChrist to You - NuDeco

Ensemble, Kishi Bashi (the ending)

Yuuji’s voice, calling your name echoes through your head. You had no idea whether the unsealing worked or not. The box, it was gone. So now, you just sat staring at the skyline – trying to comprehend the fact that maybe, he was just gone. The angel – she’d done her part and the world had shook and you hoped that maybe, just maybe, that was a sign that your love was back in the mortal realm.

You waited, and stood, and waited, and watched.

Was this it? Had the world been left on your far too heavy shoulders? All the grief, the panic, the anger, the blood – was all of that yours to carry alone now? You couldn’t. You would fail. Without him, there was no hope. You wouldn’t be able to protect your family, your friends, yourself – at least Akio was out of Japan, but everyone else – you would die to protect them, even though you knew it would be the last thing to do.

The sun was beginning to set, you stood on the balcony of this flat – some stranger’s home, who had been quick to leave Tokyo – and you wished for the warmth of the cottage. The home Gojo and you had bought not long after graduation: with its plush sofas, and art spread around – some Tsumiki’s, some your families. The kitchen where many nights and so many important moments and memories had been made along with every dinner, you, Satoru – eating take out on the first night in your new home. The first night Megumi had asked for seconds a few weeks after they moved in, the table you signed the adoption papers for them, where Kento had told you both he was returning to sorcery, countless wine drunk nights with Shoko, where you and Satoru had told the Fushiguro kids that they were getting a sibling, where Akio had shouted his first word ‘cake!’, where Megumi had told you about his feelings for Itadori. All the kids room, and the spare rooms which had turned into other people’s de facto bedrooms. The master bedroom, nights wrapped up in tangles of limbs and sweat oh such sweet pleasure that everything else faded away or wrapped in blankets and each other's loving arms – whispers of eternity passing with the pillows as witness, falling asleep marvelling at the beauty of the moonlight bouncing off the Snow White hair of the ethereal man who you some got to call your husband splayed across the pillow beside you. You would often trace his features in his sleep, so at peace and restful and so beautiful that you couldn’t help but fall into dreams next to him. Your garden, where you grew everything from seed – peonies, sunflowers, roses, dahlias, lupins, lobelias and sweet pea and wisteria and most fruit and vegetables that you could dream of.

You’ve been holding everything in for so long – 19 days. You can’t falter. Not yet.

Please, ‘toru. Please come home to me.

You’re lost in your memories and hopes that somehow, the unsealing worked, and your beautiful boy will find you and love you and be beside you again – and then you will feel whole. Then, your soul and his will be complete.

The sliding door of the balcony breaks your trance.

“I’ll be in soon, Yuuji. Just enjoying the sunset.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll find us some food. Leave your jeans out, I’ll mend them later.” You’re listing off the things you need to do because if you just keep going then maybe time will move faster and he will be home. Home with you.

“Y/N. Turn around.”

You slowly do as he asks.

“Hey, Princess.”

The bow clutched tightly in your hand clattered to the ground and you follow soon after, the legs and body that has been holding you steady and shouldering the fear and grief of all of your loved ones, gives way – as your knees buckle and make contact with the hard ground beneath you.

He’s alive, and he’s safe and he’s here.

A sob wracks your body and all that manages to come out of you shaking lips is,

“‘Toru?”

And then your senses are engulfed, and you are home. Strong, steady arms pull you tight against a broad, heaving chest which you feel letting out shaky breaths.

“I – Satoru, fuck, I didn’t know if you’d come back, I thought I’d lost you forever, I didn’t know if it worked I needed to believe – oh god, you’re here., I couldn’t feel you at all, oh my god you’re here and you’re real. ‘Toru. I tried my best and I failed, and everything’s fallen apart and –” your sobs almost made your words unintelligible, but Satoru knew what you were saying and what you meant.

“You’re safe, you did so good. I’m here, my brave, strong girl.” He whispers into your hair.

You pull away and your hands are flying everywhere on his body, checking for injuries and any sign of something wrong but he’s okay, he’s strong and he’s here.

All you can do is grab him by the messy, snowflake white hair and pull him into your face to crash your lips against in a desperate, messy kiss full of unspoken words of love unconditional and reassurance that you both need, and the promise of safety in your reunion.

“Princess, Akio – where is he?” He says, petting your hair. You two would get to the issue of your eldest son in a minute, but the baby – he needed to know where his baby was.

“Safe – I sent him with my mom and uncle and he’s not in Japan. I got him out of the country.” Your words comfort you both, knowing the 18-month-old was safe and sound.

“Akio is safe but ‘toru – you know, don’t you? Megumi – that bastard, he took him. He’s with Ge- Kenjaku.” You stare into his eyes. Your husband was the only one who could fix this mess, but you really were trying to ignore what that meant.

“I know. I’ve seen him. But Y/N, he’s alive. He’s in there and he’s alive. I’ll get our little boy back.” You collapse into him, and him into you.

You realise he’s got no idea about the loss. The grief and the fact that you should be mourning but you don’t have time because everything is falling apart. He needs to know – and he needs to know now and from you, before he realises it or someone says something, he deserves to be told and he deserves it softly because the isolation and suffering he’s endured for 19 days have taken an inevitable toll and he needs you.

You suck in a deep breath and realise everyone else has long left the area. It’s just you both. Steadying yourself, as best as you can, you pull him into you – gripping the sides of his face so you can see that beautiful face.

“Satoru. Before you hear from anyone else – I need you to hear it all from me. Okay?” You say, pressing tearful kisses into his hairline.

“Please Y/N. I need to know; I need to know who we’re fighting for. There’s faces I didn’t see beside Yuuji and Maki and - I’m scared. I’m scared Y/N but please, God, please tell me now.” His voice is filled with despair and vulnerability that only you’ve seen.

“Are you sure?” You ask, pulling him to look in your eyes.

“Please.” He whispers.

“Satoru - it’s, we lost Nanami. He’s gone, Yuuji was there. He died at Shibuya.” Your voice breaks, his closest friend, Akio’s godfather - he’s gone. Only you, Shoko and Gojo were left now.

A sob wracks his body, and he grips your shoulders and leans into your chest, the pain of seeing him like this feels like it might rip open your chest and all you want to do is cry with him but fuck, the list is longer.

“Yaga is dead. Executed. Nobara, she’s alive but… they,” your voice breaks, “they don’t know if she’ll make it. You’ve been branded a traitor, me your accomplice. Mai Zen’in, she’s dead but Maki… she’s slaughtered the Zen’in clan. Alone. Yuuta’s home.” You try to explain the culling games and other events but everything feels like it’s coming out jumbled as you and Satoru just remain, a crumpled mess of limbs on the ground. Shaking, scarred – but together.

After some time of just – grieving and feeling each other’s presence, you convince him to come inside your temporary space and sleep and eat.

Once you’ve both settled, as much as you both can, you call a meeting of your small group. Satoru immediately goes into defence mode when a figure, unknown to him as an ally – enters the room.

“Oh, you’ve come to play, curse? What, tired of being used by Kenjaku, huh?” He sneers, and puzzle pieces click as you whip in front of him as he leans to lunge toward the tall, dark figure beside Yuuji.

“Satoru! Stop!” You say, softly.

And he does.

“This – is Choso. He’s Yuuji’s brother. Geto manipulated him. He’s safe – I trust him. He saved my life.” You grab his shoulders to ground him, knowing that the whirlwind of events was causing a torrent of emotions in him.

Choso nods, still new to the world, having been used like a lamb to the slaughter and having witnessed nothing but bloodshed and destruction since his birth. He reminds you a bit of yourself. Living solely to protect the ones you love, maybe that’s why you were so quick to accept him into your fold. He had quickly become one of your most trusted friends in the group, vowing to you, as the woman who cared for his brother that he would help retrieve your husband and son.

That evening, information was exchanged, plans drawn up, theories explored and through everything, Satoru and you never let go of each other – Akio was far away, but safe, Megumi – trapped by a monster inside his own body, the body of your best friend being used like a marionette with a date written in blood to fight the man you love, Nobara – on death’s door. Kento, gone forever.

But in those hours, hope was born.

Satoru had returned.

He was safe, and alive – and you had each other. All shadows seemed smaller by each other's side.

And now, you both had one shared goal – the most dangerous and potentially costly mission of your lives.

You were going to get your little boy back, together.

That night, in his darkest abyss, a shivering, broken boy heard and saw something.

He had no idea how, but he knew it was real.

Two clasped hands, golden rings shining, one hand smaller and the outlines of a vine tattoo tracing the wrist and one hand larger, pale with slender fingers clasping the smaller fingers.

‘Mom, dad?’ His weakened voice whispered into the vision.

‘We’re coming, kid.’ Satoru Gojo, his dad.

‘We’ve got you, ‘gumi.’ Y/N, his mom.

They were coming for him, together.

TAGLIST: @vesta-ro @lilithlunas @mialexandruh @sassy-cat-in-town @madam-ri @cjm-cookiethief

#gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #gojo fluff #anime #dad!gojo #gojo smut #jjk manga #jjk manga spoilers #jjk spoilers #gojo is back

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Hi BPP,

I really enjoy your blog and your level-headedness when it comes to everything surrounding BTS and Jikook. You often post really good takes and answer asks quite comprehensively.

Which is why I'm sending my ask to you regarding that short clip of Jikook at the airport during the baghug.

First off: Jimin seemed to really need that hug, it seems, because he (a) seemed a bit subdued during the walking-in part and (b) ge literally barrelled into Jungkook. There was impact made even tho JK was barely bothered. Maybe that interpretation of desperation instead of affection is what makes me a bit sad about my observation.

That JK did indeed remove Jimin. It's not like similar situations when JK was still a teen - it was rather gentle. From another angle, it looked like Jikook both moved at the same time after that talk with their bodyguard. A simple "okay, now it's time for travel business" motion.

I don't even know why this makes me think so much? Why I circle back to the fact that it wasn't entirely wanted which is apso not true, since JK was going along for the majority of the clip. Even swaying. Especially when we know Jikook are just as close as they've always been. I don't think the physical separation during their individual album releases hurt them, they're too good of friends for that. There are bonds in your life, nothing but an actual intense disagreement can ruin. And didn't we still get Kookie flirting with Jimin, and Jimin joining his golden concert?

I think, whatever they're up to in Tokyo, it will give them a lot of time to spend together. Off-line. Recuperating.

----

I read somewhere that In The Soop was kind of conceptualised to counteract a drifting apart of the members during the pandemic. Maybe Jikook and Hybe came to the conclusion, that with their schedules being what they are, producing a show would be the perfect cover-up for spending time together with the added benefit of having enlistment content. If that's the case, it makes it doubly...interesting let's say, that it's not all four or just the Maknaes or any other combination going places. That no other member has been mentioned in connection to this.

*

Ask 2:

Idk if this will make sense, I'm the somewhat insecure ask from a few hours ago. Panicking about that dumb airport clip.

Well. I'm not anymore.

Because Jikook are allegedly headed to Sapporo (spelling might be wrong, sorry). The more we learn - even in snippets - about this trip, the more fuzzy my heart feels. Happy, even.

They went to Tokyo as close as they could probably manage to their last trip there, aka the GCF Tokyo anniversary. That last time was a "REAL LOVE" declaration during a time neither were in a really good place. Tokyo was an escape removed from the worries of their life and fame. A snow globe of happiness, you can shake every time your demons get to you. A gift from one person seeing the one always taking care of them falling apart, and deciding to take the weight of their shoulders. It's so fucking beautiful.

And now, after a year of emotional turmoil with their hyungs enlisting, of the physical separation that releasing two incredibly important albums brings, of duties and barely any breaks. Now they go back to Tokyo and Japan just before they have to enlist.

None of this is a coincidence.

To add to that Sapporo. Where it's snowing now. The implications for Jikook are big. We know Jimin loves snow, that JK knows that as much as we do, that watching the first snow together is a superstition for Korean couples. And now Jikook are there, in the first major Japanese city legalising same sex marriage - the city of love. While JK wore a rLOVElution hoodie, a line being dedicated to lgbtqia+ acceptance, just like during his NY outing with Jimin.

I could criticise everyone villifying their bond here, but now I don't want to anymore. Just look at what Jimin and Jungkook get to experience, even if only for a little time, and tell me that it's not the most beautiful thing.

The person having "please love me" tattooed on his body and the person singing "just let me love you". Serendipity and Euphoria. Black and White. Sun and Moon. Poets would weep cause they couldn't write a love this beautiful.

***

Anon,

After you sent in the first ask I started drafting my reply to you (pasted below the asterisk) but left the draft unfinished because I had life to attend to. Then you sent in the second ask, and what you've said in this second ask is so beautiful, I don't want to ruin it with my pontificating. So I'll leave my draft unfinished (I think you eventually answer in the 2nd ask what you're asking in the 1st).

Regardless of anything, jikook have a real connection, a real relationship, and a real history. What exactly that looks like I don't know, but I do know whatever it is, it's real.

*

Draft:

“I read somewhere that In The Soop was kind of conceptualised to counteract a drifting apart of the members during the pandemic. Maybe Jikook and Hybe came to the conclusion, that with their schedules being what they are, producing a show would be the perfect cover-up for spending time together with the added benefit of having enlistment content.”

Let's not dismiss this right away, because there’s a possibility you're right and this could be true. But I don't see any of this, in my opinion. I don't think this Japan trip is arranged by the company because they're drifting apart, though I agree it's being made for content to keep parts of the fandom engaged. My counterpoint to that though is that if BigHit really was making this just for greenbacks, it would've made more sense for this to be a taekook trip and not jikook - given taekookers are the largest and oldest shippers in the fandom, and this would've been an easy way for BigHit to capitalize on the recent bromance we've seen from them in chapter 2. But it's jikook, and there could be many reasons for why, maybe sometime down the road Tae joins them or we get a similar show with him, but right now, with everything that's led up to now, the easiest explanation for why jikook are going on this trip is because they want to.

And that's good enough for me.

#jikook #jimin #jungkook

[glitched-dawn]

Okay okay okay

So I got a lot of diversity and representation in my novels so far, right?

BUT

I NEED MORE

So Imma list a few characters (with numbers lol) and you can decide if I should change/add anything! (Of course, some are already decided and have partners, but that doesn't stop minor changes!)

You can tag a number and add an identity, or a sexuality, anything queer really! Or you can comment, of course, that'd be easier!

Number one:

From England, born in Canada, but has intense British accent

Literally white as snow

Gay but on the aspec, intersex (some kind of genetically fucked up thing with genitalia, (not as in "intersex is fucked up" but as in magic and such, personally I fucking love intersex people they're so cool), I might be using the wrong label here so excuse me on that) masc

Number two:

From the USA

Honey-colored hue

Demisexual homoromantic

Number three:

From Sweden, has British accent

Also white, has a lot of freckles

Transmasc bisexual panromantic (ftm)

Number four:

From Russia/America

Coffee-colored hue (extreme tan ig? not much tan in Russia but they got that from their American dad ig)

Gay

Number five:

From Canada

Greyish ash-colored hue

Asexual panromantic genderfluid (mtf?)

Number six:

I have no fuckin idea where they're from but I'd say Los Angeles lol (but spends most of their time in the Darkrimm AKA hell)

Strong tan, I don't know how to explain it but light bread brown

Genderfluid femboy-ish polysexual

Number seven:

From Mexico

Soft brown hue

Gay, extremely gay

Number seven:

From hell itself, AKA the Darkrimm

Pale brown hue

Polysexual, but mostly actually falls for guys

Number eight:

Also from the Darkrimm

Northern European hue, if I can describe it like that

Thinks they're straight, but is most likely bisexual or pansexual

Number nine:

From North America

Strong brown hue

Gay, but extremely devoted-obsessed over one single guy

Number ten:

From Japan

Pale hue

Lesbian

---

Those are it! Of course, I can specify the numbers and give more details, as in where they're from really (like where they live), if they have any disorders, things like that! Lemme know if you'd like that idea :)

#this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS guys #fuckin proud of myself for writing this out in my extremely right wing hateful environment as the queer goober i am #writeblr #writing #my writing #writers on tumblr #wip #writers #lgbtq #trans #gay #lesbian #pan #bi #demisexual #lgbtqia #aromantic #asexual #aroace #pride #queer #poly #genderfluid #genderflux #genderfuck