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#picture as a party favor
coyotemasquerade · 1 month
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HAPPY (bELATED- it was yesterday) BIRTHDAY COLLIN! (oc)
He eagerly awaits any guests who dare challenge him!! (To get a slice of cake you must either duel him or bring him an offering. But if he doesn't like the offering you have to duel him anyway.)
The cake is a magic cake! If you get a slice it changes into whatever your favorite flavor is. Do you dare challenge him for a piece??
(Swords not provided - you gotta bring your own.)
*(Got to experiment with photo bashing again! Having fun c:
Photo Credits and links: All photos used were from Unsplash.
The main bg photo link doesn't seem to work any more but for the background/picnic table I used was taken by Taisiia Shestopal.
Cake reference: https://unsplash.com/photos/rainbow-covered-cake-m4A2KWBU7xI (by Deva Williamson)
Balloons : abjwekl freakin forgot to save link, but was also a free to use image on Unsplash. )*
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redfurrycat · 1 year
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Top Gun: Peacock 🤠+🐓= 🦚 [Part 3]
[Bradley, Jake and Mitchell are on their way to the beach to meet their son’s godparents, Nat and Javy. Jake is sweet-talking his forever feathered chicken who’s moodily driving the Bronco.]
Jake: Come on, Bradley. A deal’s a deal. You HAVE to wear it.
Bradley: …
Jake: Do you really want to teach our son about not keeping his word?
Bradley: ….
Bradley: But I thought you always win at darts! That’s why I accepted the bet in the first place. I thought it was in the bag!
Jake: As much as it pains me to say, I wasn’t expecting Javy and Nat to win. I feel as bereft as you do, Roo. Come on. I wear one of your atrocities too. Do you really believe I’m okay being seen in public with…this? I even let you dress our baby with THAT THING.
Jake is looking forlornly at his son who is playing with his Léon plushie without a care in the world.
Bradley, smirking, to his son: Duckling, don’t you love your new clothes?
Little Mitchell: I wike it, pop! I’m you!
Bradley to Jake: HA. SEE? He likes it. My baby duck has such good tastes.
Jake: Agree to disagree, darlin’. I still have time to right his path. Also, I call dibs on his Halloween costume. Anyway, stop brooding and put your shirt!
Little Mitchell, giggling: Are we gonna have chicks, pops?! Nice.
Jake: No, honey, it means your pops doesn’t like his shirt. Silly, don’t you think?
Little Mitchell: Yeah. Siwwy. I wove your shirt pops!
Jake, mimicking tears: There is hope for you yet. You've earned the right to have a go in a F-18!
They arrive at the beach. Jake is carrying his son on his shoulders and making sounds of a F-18 taking off. These two happily laugh and run towards Nat and Javy, already there. Javy is even making howling sounds to welcome his favourite godson.
Natasha to Jake, smirking: Where is your other half?
Jake towards the bronco: Come on darlin’! Step off that perch of yours!
Bradley is bracing himself, puts the shirt and gets out of the car.
*Wolf-whistling*
Natasha: Looking good, Bradshaw!
Jake: Oh, very good, almost too good to be true.
Jake to Javy, discreetly: Thanks for this, man. You’re a true bro. I owe you one.
Javy: More like a thousand, but who’s counting…Now, give me my pup.
Natasha, Javy and Mitchell go towards the sea talking about Mitchell’s day at the zoo, meanwhile Bradley joins Jake.
Bradley: You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?
Jake with a devilishly smirking face: I don’t know what you’re talking about, darlin’.
[part 1] - [part 2] - [part 3] - [part 4]
(Check what's below the cut, you'll understand why Bradley is having a brooding seizure :P)
Little Mitchell's shirt:
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Jake's shirt:
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Bradley's shirt:
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Nat's shirt:
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Javy's shirt:
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[part 1] - [part 2] - [part 3] - [part 4] - [part 5] - [part 6] - [part 7] - [part 8]

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myunghology · 4 months
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twisted wonderland 2nd years, except they're helplessly in love.
pairings ; riddle, ruggie, azul, jade, floyd, kalim, jamil, silver x gn! reader. (seperate).
tw ; none.. unless it's a bit too cheesy..?
a/n ; my first twst work.. im terrified!!
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☆ — RiDDLE ROSEHEARTS
nope. will not allow it. he has his priority- which is his grades. he won't allow himself to be distracted by you. (more below the cut!)
but you are gorgeous tho, he'll admit that.
oh, would you look at that.. he's been distracted.
other students, even students outside heartslabyul are getting a bit weirded out, like what do you mean he's stopping in his tracks just to watch you pass by.
doesn't even notice it himself that he's staring at you. it's about time he notices that he'd stopped walking is when floyd smacked his head..
well, to be fair, he's noticed himself that he gets nervous whenever he invites you to unbirthday parties, he feels like everything has to be perfect.
—which is why some heartslabyul students are kinda annoyed when you come. only because they have to do so much with riddle pressuring them every 10 minutes. they like you generally though!
plus riddle seems more relaxed when you're around. that's just a bonus though! (is it really)
cater has multiple pictures of riddle just staring at you— his gaze softening whenever his eyes land on you instinctively.
he offers to hold open the door for you whenever you run into each other outside the classrooms, he offers to help you whenever you ever get injured playing some sport, and he even let's you borrow his notes if you were absent in class for a good reason.
sure, maybe he might be a bit arrogant, and a bit of a cry baby, and definitely strict— but he has respect for everyone. especially you.
riddle rosehearts is truly, a gentleman in a world full of boys.
☆ — RUGGiE BUCCHi
him? in love? absolutely.
if ruggie was in love, it'll probably be obvious. he tries to hide it though,, but it's clear he isn't good at that.
he's pretty chill around you though, nothing too awkward.
let me tell you this, whenever you ask him for a request, he'll want something back. no, he isn't gonna ask for a kiss or a date. stop imagining that.
he wants you to pay him back by a favor, so that he can pull the "you owe me a favor, since i did ___ for you." card.
okay maybe then he'll ask you on a date. or he'll ask you to steal something from a student.
what can i say.. it's 50/50.. slowly leaning onto the date idea though.
ruggie isn't oblivious, or stupid either. he knows when he's in love. he's just too afraid to admit it. sometimes leona makes fun of him for being a "wimp" and to just confess.
also stares at you, but in class this time. bro isn't listening at all actually because he's too busy looking at you.
maybe i will admit that ruggie is a little shit but he's actually a sweetheart when he wants to be. it's a win/win situation if you like annoying guys but has a soft spot for you.
spoiler: he eventually sucks it tf up and soon confesses.
☆ — AZUL ASHENGROTTO
azul may be a tad bit conscious about what you think about him. screw that- he's definitely conscious about what you think about him. from not only about what happened during his overblot and from his insecurities.
he knows you aren't that type of person, but he can't help it.
it makes him feel a million times better when you reassure him though. even if it's making him a bit delusional.. but then again you might be saying that just because you pity him.
"or maybe they're just nice and they actually care have you ever thought of that" - floyd
you go to monstro lounge about once a week, and for sure, azul has sent jade and floyd to take care of you well, since of couse, most of the time he's busy.
floyd almost exposed azul's crush on you once when you two were chatting, thankfully jade was there to cover his mouth before he continued speaking.
but when he is actually there face to face actually talking to you, he sounds smug but in reality, he's a nervous wreck in the inside. you obviously know that though.
wait till you tell him that you find him cute..
he explodes
no i'm joking, he's just blushing really hard. like.. too much. again- it's kinda obvious that he likes you whenever you compliment him.
☆ — JADE LEECH
so, so respectful when talking to you. still a bit teasing though. he offers to help you even if you're carrying just one thing.
always glad to see you when you're visiting monstro lounge, floyd loves you just as much, but in a platonic way! he isn't going to steal jades version of his 'shirmpy'.
tried to make a drink thats named by you, azul didn't allow it, unfortunately. (for him). i'd be embarrassed tbh.
in your opinion jade is a bit weird.. but he's still super nice to you, no matter how weird this guy seems. he would never do anything that would make you uncomfortable.
similar to riddle- he opens doors for you, sometimes offers to cook for you, and sometimes treats you whenever you're at montro lounge. only if azul allows it though, which is pretty rare. like jade wtf dym "its on the house" no it's not shut up.
you sometimes wonder if his mushrooms are safe to eat or not.
it's probably best not to ask him though.
he may or may have not tried breaking into your dorm room because you weren't attending class and you weren't responding to his messages asking where you were. it was all on concern tho don't worry i swe-
genuinely doesn't have a problem with confessing, but he only confesses until he's confident that you like him back.
trigger warning for floyd though since he's probably gonna pop out anytime soon during the confession..
☆ — FLOYD LEECH
my condolences if he ever likes you.
just kidding, it'd be pretty fun if floyd started to like you. only if you really like his bone crushing hugs.
doesn't hide his crush on you at all, you gotta be super oblivious if you don't notice it if he didn't even confess to you yet the moment he finds out that he likes you.
you're definitely scared shitless whenever you see him. when you try to run away he chases you around the halls and he's so damn fast, it's nearly impossible to escape him.
plus- his mood swings too? who knows if he'll get excited when you run away from him or if he's gonna get pissed off.. but mostly he gets excited though.
has kabedoned you one, too many times. mostly to fluster you, but also to get your attention.
easily gets jealous- especially when someone else hugs you for a long time. no one can hug his shrimpy except him! he isn't possessive, that's just how floyd is.
also stares at you in class- but throws paper airplanes at you, with the writings inside saying "HI".
ends up getting in trouble because either he got caught, or riddle snitched. most likely the second one tho.
drags you to monstro lounge to help him clean up his OWN messes, but he (might) have intentionally done this to spend time with you..
☆ — KALiM AL-ASiM
probably one of the best people ever to have a crush on you if that even makes sense..
spoils you rotten, even more than when he spoils his friends which is obviously already huge. wanna buy something online but can't? he's already asking for the link so he can buy it for you!
you obviously feel bad whenever he does this, so you try to remind him that he doesn't have to do all of this stuff for you.
not only with gifts, he spoils you rotten with affection too. you feel bad for jamil as well, he seems annoyed, but as long as kalim's happy.
very very respectful and nice to you, and will stop anything you don't want him to do anytime, he sometimes flirts with you unintentionally too..
hugs you literally at literally any chance he gets, he's also pretty clingy, if you haven't noticed that yet.
shows you off to other scarabia students, it's pretty obvious that he has a crush on you too.
bro's lovesick
gets so upset when something happens to you because of him, worries that people will try to do some crazy shit to you as well because you have a good connection with him..
introduces you to his family like you're his wife or something.. and then when you ask him what are you guys he'll go:
"are we not engaged" "NO??"
he was fully convinced that you guys were dating already
he's a little bit delusional but that's ok..
☆ — JAMiL ViPER
like riddle, jamil does not have the time to fall in love with someone since he's already busting his ass off taking care of kalim.. and with his academics too. plus the overblot situation but we don't talk about that.
maybe you are a little bit scared of him as well, but little do you know this guy will literally adjust for you anytime. it's really hard to see though when he does.
VERY hard to see that he has a crush on you though. you'd confess and he'd be like,
"i gave you so much signs what do you mean i might not like you back"
you were starstruck when you heard him say that. what does he mean signs. does he mean when he glared at you in class..? you thought you did something wrong for a second.
like floyd, kalim once almost exposed jamil for liking you accidentally.. don't get me wrong, jamil didn't tell kalim anything, he just found out himself.
jamil definitely likes you trying his culture's food, especially if he cooked it himself! it's not obvious, but he lets a small smile creep up onto his lips.
studies with you too if you're ever having a hard time. studying? nah, more like tutoring.. he's kinda harsh at first but then softens up a bit when he sees that you're really struggling.
☆ — SiLVER
im sure we all know silver is a generally pretty reserved person. and that doesn't change even when he's crushing on you.
but you do notice him stealing glances from time to time whenever you walk past him, lilia definitely asks him about that.
he may be a tad bit more open with you than others? but it's purely because he trusts you.
you sometimes tie his hair to the hairstyle called "apple hair" when he's sleeping and he doesn't notice even when he wakes up, he only notices after looking at a mirror..
genuinely doesn't mind though. lilia thinks it's adorable (he also thinks you guys are perfect for each other)
and that's why lilias opinions are always important..
generally, you guys usually talk through chat because you two don't really have the time to talk to each other physically.
but still, he still thinks you're beautiful. even if he can't see you all the time. this dynamic is kinda like a hallway crush typebeat..??
lilia is your number 1 fan alongside malleus!! sebek still has mixed feelings but he likes you generally! he just isn't sure if he likes you for silver.. or if he's not sure if he likes silver for you.. does that make sense?
after awhile he joins malleus and lilia.
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©myunghology
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tatoda · 8 months
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Wanting You || conrad fisher x fem!reader
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masterlist
request
summary: you get a call and it happens to be your drunk boyfriend just wanting your love and attention
pairing: conrad fisher x reader
warnings: stressed conrad and mostly just fluff
wc: 800 (i think)
put some drunk conrad in to help with the storyline!! not majority edited just wanted to get this out
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It was supposed to be a boy's night. To drink and talk about sports or just hang out in general. But here conrad was, looking at your pictures on his phone showing the guys around him. Even if they were at a party where there were over 100 people, you were still the first thing on his mind.
“she’s just so pretty guys,” he told steven and jeremiah who were sipping on beers
“oh we know, for how much you talk about her.” jere muttered over his drink
“man, as much as i love how you’re in love with my sister, but please spare all details.” steven rolled his eyes
“she’s just so sweet, she’s helped me with so much. like that one time she snuck me into your house because i missed her and my roommate was having sex,” he admitted
“oh god! you snuck into our house. if laurel ever hears this you’re dead meat.” steven leaned forward
“relax steve, i’ll have you know your mom likes me too much.” conrad took a sip of his beer when he should have stopped drinking for a while now “i miss her.”
“he’s so whipped.” jere laughed watching his brother be lovesick for you
“do you think she will answer if i call her?” his eyes lit up
“she’s probably sleeping.” steven looked over his shoulder to the crowd of people spotting taylor dancing with some of the volleyball girls
“just make your move already.” jeremiah pointed out
“you know belly would absolutely murder me if i touched her best friend.” steven sighed and looked away
“hey! look at me man.” conrad put a hand on his shoulder “you haven’t murdered me yet.” he smiled
“that’s because i’m building up to it.” conrad shook his head
“i’m gonna call her, i miss her.”
“dude-“ it was too late he already clicked your contact.
Meanwhile, you were on your bed watching netflix and having a self-care night. With conrad with the guys, you felt like he needed to get out of the apartment they all shared because all they did was play video games and sleep. Your phone rang on the comforter causing you to jump not expecting any calls. You turned the phone seeing conrad’s name on the screen.
“hey.” you paused your show leaning back on the pillows
“hi baby.” he slurred. this wasn’t the first time occurrence he’s called you drunk, you soon found out he was clingy and wanted your attention when drunk
“hey you, how’s the boy's night?” he sighed on the other side of the phone
“it’s good, it’s good. i wanted to call and say i miss you, like a lot.”
“you just saw me yesterday dummy.” you laughed into the phone
“i just really love you.” your heart fluttered as he said the words, you don’t usually say it because it meant a lot to the both of you with what happened to your parents
“can you do me a favor baby?” he hummed on the other side “can i talk to my brother really quick?”
“yeah! here, steven she wants to talk to you.” you heard him hand the phone over
“hey sis.”
“hey can i come get him? i think he’s had enough and i know he’s gonna want me to come get him soon enough.”
“oh yeah please,”
“thank you for taking him out tonight, i know he’s stressed with everything with adam and everything.”
“no yeah i understand, see you soon.” the phone was pulled away from him and back in the hands of your boyfriend
“hey lover.” he chuckled “i’m gonna a come get you okay?”
“yeah, thats sounds good.” you knew after a while he would start overthinking and then the stress would come back
“just stay with the guys and no more drinking, okay?”
“okay, see you soon baby.” you both hung up and you got out of bed
The drive over to the house was over 20 minutes. But you didn’t mind you wanted to see conrad. There has been a lot of stuff going on recently with his dad. you knew their relationship wasn’t the greatest and it really got to him sometimes.
You parked the car in search of your boyfriend. Steven texted you saying they were in the backyard in some chairs, and you saw the back of your boyfriend's head as he talked to the boys in front of him. You wrapped your arms over his shoulder and leaned your head down on his shoulder.
“i have a girlfriend!” his head snapped and he relaxed seeing it was you “oh. sorry.”
“that’s okay, you ready to go?” he nodded “you boys have a ride back?” you looked towards jere and steven
“yeah, taylor said she would take us.” you smiled at steven “when are you gonna ask her out?” conrad moved his arms to rub against yours that were draped over him
“chill, i just don’t wanna upset belly.”
“for fucks sake i’m dating your best friend and you didn’t beat me up.”
“told you.” conrad muttered
“this is different.” he sighed rubbing his face
“it’s not really.” conrad moved to lay his head on your arm giving you the signal it was time to go “just do something at least, con and i are gonna head out.” you pulled your hands away and the man stood from his seat “ready.” he nodded taking your hand in his “be safe tonight, call me if you need anything.”
As you drove home, conrad kept a hand on your thigh but he didn’t say anything and you knew the quietness and depression were slowly coming back from the side effects of his drinking. The whole ride was quiet up until you made it into your room closing the door facing him.
“come here con.” he walked towards you slowly and dipped his head into to crook of your neck and wrapped his arms around you “let’s sleep okay?” he nodded but didn’t let go “con?”
“hm?”
“let’s lay down handsome.” he stepped away from you and you helped him take off his shirt as he slipped out of his jeans left in his boxers and slid into bed “ill be right back, going to get you water.”
“okay.” he softly spoke into the pillow he was laying on
Walking downstairs your mom was also grabbing a midnight snack. She knew he would come over and she also knew he was going through a lot in your 2 years together.
“how is he?” she leaned against the counter as you opened the fridge to grab a water bottle
“it’s a lot, he won’t really talk to me about some of it and i understand.”
“you’re a great girlfriend for him. susannah always loved the thought of you two together.” she grabbed your hand and squeezed it “speaking of conrad.” she nodded behind you, turning around you saw your boyfriend standing at the end of the stairs
“hey, what’s wrong?” you walked towards him
“you left me for a long time.” he rubbed his eyes and you smiled
“come on you big baby, good night mom.”
“night laurel.” conrad muttered
“night kids.” you could hear the humor in her voice
Back up in your room you were both now in bed with the light of the tv shining on the both of you. Conrad’s eyes drifted but he just stared at you.
“can i cuddle you?” he asked softly
“you don’t need to ask.” he moved closer to you hugging you to him, his head on your shoulder and you moved your hand to run though his hair “con?”
“yeah?” you moved to look at him and leaned down to kiss him for the first time that night
“i love you.” he smiled genuinely the first time since you saw him
“i love you.” he closed his eyes and kissed your neck
Soon enough his soft snoring filled the room as you continued to watch your show until you followed him into the dream state.
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valeskafics · 2 months
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"Hunger" - Young!Coriolanus Snow x Reader
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a/n: from an anon request 🩷
Summary: You and Coryo come to an agreement about keeping love out of the equation. An agreement he can't hold himself to.
Word Count: 1,750
Rating: 18+, MDNI
TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, purity kink ig, dom!reader, loss of virginity, face sitting, oral f receiving, tiddy succin, p in v sex, creampie, unprotected sex
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Hunger Games/Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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When Coriolanus Snow first meets you, his beautiful bride-to-be, he doesn’t quite know what to expect. You are the daughter of none other than President Ravinstill, giving him an easy entrance into the political arena. But, after what happened with Lucy Gray, Coryo is hesitant to trust, and even more hesitant to love. So, he resolves himself to keeping you at an arm’s length, to being polite to you, keeping the peace, having a calm but loveless marriage. The two of you have spoken about this at length via the letters you’ve written to each other in the days leading up to your first meeting. You were educated at home by private tutors rather than attending the Academy or University, and as such, never really saw much of Coryo growing up. He’s not sure he’d even be able to recognize you in a crowd. And it’s not like he was ever particularly close with your brother either. So, the two of you mutually decide to have an amiable but affectionless marriage. It is for the best, to keep your expectations low and your hearts protected.
That all goes out the door the moment he sees you. 
You’re lovelier than he ever could have dreamed. You walk with the grace of a queen. And that’s exactly what he vows to make you. His fingers tremble as he offers you a white rose, a small smile on his lips. He wants to tell you how beautiful you are, how you make his heart pound against his ribs, how all he wants to do is kiss you till your lips are swollen and all you can think of is his name. But you are so matter-of-fact and down to business. You simply nod and smile at him, accepting his gift and placing it in your hair.
He knows you’ve never been with a man before, your father being as overprotective as he is. You tell him as much when the two of you are left alone in your father’s parlor to get to know each other better. You’re so prim and proper, the picture perfect fiance. But even though he swore to himself he’d never allow himself to be vulnerable again after Lucy Gray, he finds himself yearning for you. For your smile, your voice, your very presence. You smell of roses and jasmine, the combination stirring something deep inside of him. You favor wearing white, and part of him wonders if it’s because of the roses he gives you every day.
White. A fitting color for one of your innocence, your virtue. The perfect wife to be for a man like him. The only thing that threatens to ruin it all is your indifference. You’re nice enough to him. Conversation between the two of you comes easy. But every time he tries to scratch past that shiny veneer of yours, he’s met with resistance and quickly rebuffed. You only tell him the bare minimum about yourself and only seem interested in learning the bare minimum about him. At the parties in the Capitol, at the Presidential Palace and otherwise, the two of you are paraded about as the very picture of young love.
Coryo doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anything as badly in his life as he wants you. He remembers being a little boy, wandering the streets of the Capitol, his belly aching from hunger, desperate to have a taste of something. Anything. He feels that same hunger now, whenever he looks at you. The way you smile for the cameras, that white rose in your hair that shows that you will soon belong to him, if not in your heart, then at least in name.
The wedding is just as lavish as he thought it would be. Hundreds of white doves released as you walk down the aisle toward him, your head held high, looking as beautiful as ever, your lips painted crimson red, your hair flowing behind you, your wedding dress hugging your curves, emphasizing your gorgeous figure. You say your vows, though for some reason, you do not meet his gaze. Coryo continues trying to get you to look into his eyes, but even when the two of you share your first kiss, you don’t look at him. When the two of you share your first dance, you don’t look at him.
You don’t look at him until you reach the small chateau your father has arranged for your honeymoon to be in, just on the outskirts of the Capitol. Your butler brings your belongings inside and Coryo follows after you, wondering if the two of you are even going to be doing anything tonight. Clearly, you don’t want him the same way he wants you. You don’t yearn for his love, hunger for his touch, long for his embrace. You don’t want him the way he wants you, nowhere even close to it.
Coryo sits on the bed, frowning. Well, sulking. It’s your wedding night and you haven’t even told him once how handsome he looks. He knows that this is what the two of you agreed to. A lifetime of compromise. But looking at you now, all he wants is to hold you, touch you, kiss you, feel your body moving against his-
“Will you unzip me?”
His eyes go wide and he’s up on his feet, crossing the room to you within mere seconds. Coryo’s fingers trace the delicate skin of your upper back, moving your hair aside as he deftly unzips your gown. He gulps, realizing that you’re wearing nothing beneath it, his gaze drawn to your lower back, the curve of your hips, the supple flesh of your ass as the gown falls away. You’re beautiful. A work of art. You turn to face him, your breasts so round and full now in his line of sight, the soft patch of curls just above where he wants to feel you most. He forces himself to meet your eyes, seeing a mischief in them he hasn’t before.
“For someone who didn’t seem to be able to keep your eyes off of me, you’re acting so shy now.”
His eyes go wide with surprise as you push him backward onto the bed, crawling over him, “I… Uh…”
“Come on, Coryo,” you croon, his nickname falling off your tongue like honey in his ears, fingers threading in his blond hair, “Don’t tell me you thought I didn’t want you?”
“That’s,” he groans, leaning into your touch, allowing you to dispose of his clothes, tossing them to the side to join your now forgotten gown, “That’s exactly what I thought.”
“Just because we said we weren’t going to fall in love doesn’t mean we have to deprive ourselves of the more enjoyable aspects of marriage,” you tease, nipping at his earlobe, your nails raking down his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake, “You’re so strong, Coryo. Bet you could just shove me up against the wall and fuck me, couldn’t you?”
He nods eagerly, feeling your fingertips tracing his lips, eyes wide as he stares at you, “Uh huh.”
“Mmm, but tonight, you’re not the one who’s in charge.”
Despite always wanting to be in control, never wanting to be vulnerable with anyone ever again, he lets you take the lead. His hands grope at the flesh of your ass as you straddle his face, grinding your sweet little cunt against his lips, letting him taste you the way he’s wanted for months now. Coryo’s hard just from the lewd sounds that escape his lips, from the taste of you, the sight of your thighs trembling, the way you moan his name, the way your tits bounce as you move against him. You’re using him for your own pleasure, and he loves it. He wants to make you feel good. To see you come undone because of him and him alone. To know that he’s the first person to have done this to you, to taste your slick on his tongue. And fuck, you taste so sweet, you smell divine. He suckles at your puffy clit, rolling the sensitive bud between his lips letting you grind yourself against him until you finally reach your peak with a keening cry of his name.
Coriolanus Snow isn’t a virgin, far from it, but when you sink down onto his cock, your tight little pussy squeezing around him like a vice, he thinks he may as well be. You bounce up and down on him, hands splayed across his chest to brace yourself, the sound of his skin slapping against yours, your moans intermingling with his echoing throughout the room. Every roll of your hips against his, every time you clench around him, brings him closer and closer to his own end, his hands moving to hold your waist, wanting to have something, anything, to ground him. He stares up at you, the way you throw your head back, how you move one of your hands between where your bodies join, rubbing furiously at your clit, your walls fluttering around him. He sits up, eagerly taking one of your tits in his mouth, feeling not in the least embarrassed at the little smirk you give him.
You know he’s desperate for you. You know you have him under your thumb, drunk off your cunt, off whatever affection you’re willing to give him. And you love it. He knows you love it. You bite down hard on your lower lip, moving faster and faster, his lips moving to your other breast, palming at the one he’s just let go of, your movements growing more and more erratic until you reach your peak once more, groaning his name, allowing him to fuck you through your climax, spilling himself deep inside you, his cum filling you.
You lay back on the bed beside him, a satisfied little grin on your face as you make yourself comfortable. Coryo turns toward you, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your lips.
“I love you,” he whispers, feeling pathetic for saying it.
But he means it. Truly, he does.
Your gaze isn’t unkind, nor is it pitying. It’s one of understanding.
“I know you do,” you say calmly, “And one day I’ll feel the same. Just give me time.”
Coryo nods, pulling you into his arms, letting you rest your head against his chest, his heartbeat lulling you off to peacefull slumber.
One day.
One day you’ll feel the same hunger he does.
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xreaderanonaccount · 3 months
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So Warm and Fluffy
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Synopsis: Harbinger men (minus Pucinella) with an S/O who wears their Fatui coat.
Characters: Pierro, Capitone, Dottore, Pantalone, Childe
Tags; Suggestive on Childe
A/N: Gawd, I need more lore on all the harbingers. I need MORE. I also lowkey didn't know what to write for Panatalone, which sucks cause I absolutely love this man.
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The party was a bore, you couldn’t help but let out a bored sigh. Pierro seemed to immediately notice this and placed a gentle hand on the bottom of your back.
“Is everything okay my dear?” Pierro whispered into your ear, you leaned against his shoulder and sighed.
“This place is a bore and there’s nothing fun.” Pierro hummed in agreement as he stared distantly towards the crowd. There was a small crowd of aristocrats huddled around you two hoping to earn a favor from the Tsaritsa. You just sighed again before looking at the giant door that beckoned you toward them.
“Dear, I’m going to walk around a bit. Is that okay?” You asked, tilting your head towards him. Pierro closed his eyes and gave a soft nod.
“Make sure you bring a scout.” Pierro sighed as he turned back to a conversation an aristocrat was trying to make. You smiled to yourself before beckoning a nearby scout to follow you. You were very lucky that the party was hosted in one of the many Fatui’s castles, even more lucky that this just so happens to be Pierro’s. You and the scout silently walked down the empty hall, your shoes echoed around before stopping by a familiar door. You smiled as you fished in your pockets, pulling out a small key. You gently placed the key inside the keyhole before turning it. With a soft click the door opened revealing a huge office. You knew this office quite well as this was Pierro’s main office. You walked towards the giant desk smiling as you picked up a small picture of you and Pierro. You gently placed the picture back down before walking around the office. Staring out the window you sighed happily staring down the garden that Pierro planted for you. You were so lost in thought, staring at the snowflakes that slowly drifted down, that you didn’t feel the soft click of the door open. You smiled to yourself thinking about the nice stroll you and Pierro took earlier in the morning. You suddenly felt warm, when you felt a soft coat gently placed on your shoulder. 
“You’ll get cold if you stay still like that.” Pierro murmured against your ear, planting a soft kiss against your cheek. His mask slightly biting your skin. You giggled as you turned to face Pierro. 
“Well if I do get cold you’ll somehow keep me warm right?” You smiled as you placed your hand right where his heart lay. Pierro deeply chuckled as he cupped your hand as you planted a soft kiss on your wrist.
“Of course, my dear.” 
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Capitano grunted as he attacked the dummies with his giant claymore. You stared unapologetically at Capitano’s abs, muscle, anything your eyes looked around. You sighed dreamily as Capitano's muscles moved and contracted with each swing. You two were in the lobby of Goth Grand Hotel which Lord Regrator generously booked… forever. Capitano swung his claymore, slicing the dummies in half. Capitano huffed and puffed as he circled his shoulders. Loosening the tension in his shoulder. You clapped at Capitano’s display,
“You look so good Darling.” You smiled as you slouched against the plush lobby couch. Capitano gave out a hearty laugh before walking over to get a drink from his cup. 
“Thank you my love.” He laughed as he lifted his helmet slightly for him to wipe his sweat. You hummed as you looked around the lobby of the Goth Grand Hotel. It was quite fancy, true to Mondstadt architecture the arcs curved beautifully with etched designs watching over you two. The soft light emitting from the crystal chandelier shone upon you. Your eyes drift before you spot Capitano’s Harbinger coat. He didn’t wear it as Mondstadt’s weather didn’t deemed it cold enough for him to wear it. You traced your hand over the details of the Harbingers coat. Whoever designed it clearly had a good sense of fashion. You smiled as you pulled the heavy coat towards you. Capitano’s smell filled your senses as you took in a deep breath, allowing his scent to fill your lungs. You couldn’t help but sigh as you got comfortable on the lobby couch. You watched Capitano continue his training, his sleeveless turtleneck hug his muscles so well. Capitano swung his claymore making eye contact with you who was snug underneath his harbinger coat.
“Comfortable?” Capitano asked, hoisting his claymore over his shoulder. You nodded as you pulled the black fur close to your face.
“Your jacket is very comfortable.”  You smiled as you adjusted your position, Capitano laughed as he turned back to his dummies.
“Well then I'll ask Pantalone about getting you a custom one." You can hear Capitano smile as he slashed at the nearest dummy. You couldn't help but laugh,
"That would be nice wouldn't it?"
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You shivered inside Dottore’s lab. Your lover is a mad man so of course he loves to have his lab ac on in an already really cold nation. You are already wearing thick layers but the cold keeps biting your skin. 
“Can we please turn the heater on?” You asked, but it seemed the question fell on deaf ears. As none of the segments seemed to hear you, they were too busy arguing with something that you couldn’t understand. You frowned slightly as the cold got to you. You got up and started to pace around the lab trying to warm yourself up. It was slightly working if it wasn’t for the fact that every other step you were taking you were bumping into one of the many segments. You always apologize and move out of the way. You did a couple more laps before you were stopped by Omega who just gave a small smile.
“Darling dearest, I believe you’re getting in the way. How about staying in Prime’s office till he returns?” He asked, not even waiting for your answer before guiding you towards Dottore’s office. You tried to protest but it seemed that protest didn’t reach Omega who just opened the office door and gently pushed you in.
“I’ll ask Delta to bring you something to eat, just stay put okay?” Omega gave you a smile before closing the door with a soft click. You sighed in frustration as you waltz around Dottore’s office. It looked off putting for some people, but you thought it was just his weird hobby. The assortment of body parts in jars, taxidermy animals, different types of ruin guards splattered around. It was a mess but a weird organized mess. You walked around his desk sitting down on his plush chair. Still freezing cold, you looked around the office spotting a small closet in the corner. Smiling, you got up and walked towards the door. Maybe Dottore at least will have a lab coat or something for you to wear. Opening the wooden doors, they gave a soft groan as you peered inside. The closet was mainly empty except for one item, his Fatui harbinger coat. You smiled to yourself as you ran your hand through the fabric. It was so soft under your hand, the soft metal clanked against each other as you cupped the teal crystal. You admired the crystal in your hands as it sparkled in the light. You gently took the coat off the hanger and put it on. The warmth instantly engulfs you, along with his scent. You smiled to yourself as you walked back towards his desk chair. You plopped down back on the plush chair, wiggling a bit, getting yourself comfortable on the plush chair. Finally comfortable in the severe cold lab you nuzzled your head against the black fur. The thick winter coat made you instantly feel warm. As you enjoy the deserved warmth you feel your eyes becoming droopy. Sleep lures you in as you close your eyes, the warmth, dottore’s cologne, and the comfort of being close to the segments. It seemed that you lost the battle as sleep took over slouching against the desk chair.
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Dottore walked into the lab to the buzzing sounds and movements. He rolled his shoulder as he put on his white lab jacket. Before he could get to his experiment table he was stopped by Delta who handed him a report.
“Here is that report you wanted,” Delta nodded as Dottore took it out of his hands. He flipped through the pages pleased by the results.
“Good, get back to work.” Dottore threw the report back to Delta’s arms, who just nodded. But before he was able to get back to work Delta told him about your state and how cold you were. Dottore rolled his eyes as he knew you would be cold and asked what they did about it. Delta mentioned that you paced around a bit before being put into his office. Dottore was curious about what you had gotten up to in his office. Dismissing Delta, Dottore headed to his office giving soft raps against his own office door. He thought this was silly but he rather you not throw something at him then be startled for a bit. When he didn’t hear a response he opened the door, only to be greeted by you snuggled up in his fatui harbinger coat sleeping on his office chair. Dottore smirked as he walked over to you, watching your sleeping form. Oh how naive you are to let your guard down, if you were anyone else he would have stuck so many different types of needles into you. Draw some blood samples, screw it, why not inject you with a mind altering drug? But lucky for you, you were his darling dearest, and he could never hurt you. He smiled to himself before tilting his mask up just enough for him to plant a kiss on top of your head without it poking your head. With a very rare and out of character soft smile Dottore turned back and headed to work. At least he doesn’t have to hear you complain about the cold.
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You and Pantalone walked down Snezhnaya’s greenhouse, a greenhouse that was owned by the Fatui for the public to see ecosystems from different regions. Hand in hand you walked down as you listened to a guide explain each plant from different regions. You smile as you listen to the guide, you would glance back at Pantalone who would always smile at you but you knew for a fact that he was bored out of his mind. He got particularly bored during the Liyue region, you didn’t care, you were just happy to see so much green. Snezhnaya is always cold and has deep shades of blue, so seeing this much green always makes you feel better. You two concluded your tour and were ready to head out, but as soon as you stepped outside the bitter wind blew against your face. You shivered against your already thick jacket, it seemed that the Snezhnaya weather had dipped way below freezing. You breathe into your hands to keep yourself warm, but alas it didn’t work. You stared out on the snow covered streets. Pantalone said that a vehicle should be coming soon but you couldn’t see crap. You felt yourself being pulled gently back inside the greenhouse before having a thick outer layer gently placed on your shoulder. You looked behind to see Pantalone smiling at you, he was wearing his purple inner jacket which seemed to do little to hide Pantalone’s shiver. 
“Pantalone, you’re shivering here.” You tried to protest by removing his Fatui coat off your shoulder but you were stopped as Pantalone placed it back on your shoulders.
“I’ll be fine my lily, your comfort is my utmost priority.” Pantalone smiled as he then turned to one of the workers ``kindly” asking them to bring a heater. Kindly is putting it nicely, more like he was demanding it with a nice tone. You giggled a bit before settling down on a nearby seat. Pantalone turned back to you giving you a rare soft smile that he only gives when you two were completely alone. 
“You look ravenous in my coat dear, I should have the tailor make one to your size.” He smiled as he adjusted the collar. 
“That would be nice,” you smiled as you saw a light shine through the greenhouse's door.
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You were rummaging through Childe’s closet, as Teucer wrote a letter missing Childe. So in return you thought it would be really cute to send one of Childe’s dress shirts over, hoping it would keep the young lad at bay. As you rummage through you feel something soft and fluffy brush against your hand. You paused for sec, Childe doesn’t own anything fluffy. He’s normally wearing something semi-fancy or an outfit fit for a warrior. Letting your thoughts get you, you pulled the fluffy object out of the closet. You gave a soft smile as you pulled his formal overcoat out. You brushed against the fabric, you normally only get to see him wearing this during special events. And when those special events happen you normally can’t see him because you’re so far away from the stage to see the harbingers so close. But when you do get a glimpse you understand the girls in Snezhnaya who fawn over the harbingers. Childe looks so handsome in the coat, and looks very warm. 
An idea popped into your head as you walked out of the walk-in closet. You pranced towards the giant mirror that sat in your shared bedroom. Gently putting the outer coat on you were overwhelmed by Childe’s cologne. You smiled as you hugged the coat closer to you. Looking at yourself in the mirror you were engulfed by his coat. The metal charms softly clanked against each other as you gave yourself a little twirl. Smiling to yourself you cuddled yourself into the black fur. It was so soft and warm and reminded you so much of Childe. As you were lost in your thoughts you suddenly felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist. You yelped in surprise before you heard a familiar chuckle. 
“You look so cute Zolotse.” You hear Childe mumble against the fur.
“Ajax! You’re home early.” You looked at him in surprise. He smiled as he stared loving at you.
“Yeah, I was able to finish work early and was just too excited to come home.” He laughed a bit before burying his head back into the fur coat. You leaned into Childe’s lean body as you two stayed in that position for a moment. 
“Maybe I’ll ask Pantalone to make a custom jacket for you.” Childe smiled as he picked you up in ease and twirled you around. You two laughed before Childe dropped you two on your soft bed. He was on top of you while you were sprawled against the bed. The Coat slightly hanging on you.
“Ha, you look so cute wearing my clothes. I wonder…” Childe gave a devious smile before you playfully hit his shoulder.
“Take me to dinner first Mr.Fatui Harbinger.” You two laughed as Childe fell on top of you engulfing you in a hug. 
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celestie0 · 1 month
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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]
kickoff ch.8 a little cottage on the countryside
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ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader (f)
ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.
ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot
ᰔ chapter. 8/x (probably 12)
ᰔ words. 13.5k (...i'm gonna go take a nap lol)
a/n. hello hellooo my dear kickoff readers, hope you're having a nice day so far! this is the longest chapter yet, so i hope you enjoy <3 it's also got one of my favorite tropes everrr hehehehe you could probs guess what it is halfway through. see you at the bottom and happy reading! sorry if there are typos i didn't proofread this one as much as the others haha
nav. ch1 :: ch2 :: ch3 :: ch4 :: ch5 :: ch6 :: ch7 :: ch8 :: ch9 (pending)
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You don’t cry much these days, but when you do, it’s usually out of nowhere. 
Like now, as you stand in the school’s photo lab, developing the shots that you took for UTokyo’s game against Osaka last week, and you have to swipe at the tears on your cheek threatening to fall all over the captured images of grass, benches, nets, banners, stands, and him. 
One of the photographs catches your eye, and you pick it up from the table. It’s a candid moment you took of Gojo on the field right before you confessed to him. You had spotted him first while the team was doing their warm-up, and you thought he looked nice from the way he had that concentrated look on his face that you’ve learned to love. But right before you clicked the shutter, he had turned away, chasing after the ball, and so all you could capture was his back facing you as he looked off ahead into the distance. You wondered if that was how it’s always been this whole time–with you looking at him while he’s looking off at something else. It was a depressing thought, but your mind had a tendency for sadness since that day.
The sound of the photo lab door opening jolts you back to reality, and you quickly straighten your posture and wipe your cheek with your sleeve, trying to sniffle as discreetly as possible, then set the picture down. Your fellow film major greets you quietly, asking if you’re still using the developer liquid, to which you say no, then hand it over to them. You stuff your photographs into a folder and head out the door.
You make it across campus to the Film & Media Studies building, then up to the third floor where your professor's office is. His door was ajar, but you still knocked before entering.
He looks up from the photographs he was grading. “Oh, y/n, hello. How are you?”
“I’m well, thank you, yourself?” you ask, taking a seat on the chair that was fixed to face his desk. You pull your tote bag into your lap.
“Great, thanks. How can I help you?”
You slide the folder to him over the scraped, worn burgundy wood of his desk. “I still had to turn in my photos for the assignment due last week. I appreciate the extension.”
“Ah, right,” he says, taking the folder from you. “I’ll get around to grading them. I’m curious, what did you end up choosing for your subject matter?” He tucks the folder underneath the pile that was to his side.
“I took photos of the soccer team’s game against Osaka Uni on Thursday last week,” you tell him.
He frowns at you. “Film cameras don’t have that level of zoom, though. I do hope you followed the rubric guidelines for central object to frame ratio, otherwise I’ll have to take off points.” 
“Oh– I did. I took the photos from the sidelines,” you tell him, panicking already. 
His eyes widened. “From the sidelines? On the field?”
You nod at him, fidgeting with your bag in your lap.
“Wow, I can’t say I’ve ever had a student take photos like that before. That’s pretty challenging to pull off, though,” he says, sitting up straighter, “...you mind if I take a look at them right now?”
You shake your head. “Oh, no. Not at all.”
He pulls your folder out from the bottom of the pile, then gently slips the photos out of them, rearranging them all across his desk. He leans down closer to study some of them, tilting his head curiously at others, furrowing his brow in concentration to a select few. “These are incredible.”
You take in a deep breath. “Thank you, professor.”
He nods at you with acknowledgement, and you watch him as he studies the images quietly for another minute, then looks up at you. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asks when he notices you’re still seated.
“Ah…yes, there was something I wanted to ask you.”
“What is it?” He taps his pen on the desk.
“I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the film graduate program.”
He nods, like he was expecting the question. “Yeah, of course. Just send me your resume and portfolio.” He taps eagerly on one of your images. “Please send me digitals for these, too.”
You let out a relieved exhale. “Yes, I will. Thank you so much, professor, I really appreciate it.”
You left the building feeling extremely relieved about your professor agreeing to write your recommendation, but also feeling sad because you couldn’t tell Gojo about it, since this was the full-circle moment for the little arrangement the two of you had. There’s a thought that considers texting him, and you take out your phone then go to his name, but your thumbs just can’t bring yourself to send him a message.
The days of the week go by in a blur, and between every single little moment in life, your mind always wanders to him. It’s hard to get over someone when you’re surrounded by them. Like late at night while you’re editing the digitals of the game last week to send to your professor, and you find yourself staring at the pictures you’ve taken of him. It’s hard to get over him when the school worships the soccer team and you’re forced to see promotional banners and posters all over campus with his stupidly beautiful face in them. You didn’t have the heart to block him on Instagram, because you remember that time he teased you about how you didn’t follow him back, and you wonder if it would make him sad if you blocked him, so you just resorted to deleting the app instead. And although you were the one that asked for space from him, you were growing increasingly annoyed at how good he seemed to be at keeping it. 
The library wasn’t even much of a safe space either, since you overheard a group of girls the other day at a table arguing about which of the players on the team is the hottest, and so you find yourself doing your homework on a lovely Wednesday morning at your apartment instead. 
You lean back in your chair and look up at the ceiling, and then jump when you hear your phone ring, quickly turning it over to read the caller ID. Nobara. You accept the call, placing her on speaker, then set your phone back down on your desk. 
“Hey, Nobie, what’s up?”
“Hey, nothing much. Just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out,” she says.
“Oh, I would love to, but I’m working on homework right now. It’s due in a couple of hours,” you sigh.
“Boo, you whore. For what class?”
“My stats 130 elective,” you say. “I’m a film major, why do I need to know statistics?” You tap your pen to your chin. “Actually, it might be valid.”
“Is that the class with the creepy professor?” she asks. “The one that got caught with a PornHub tab open while he was presenting his lecture slides.”
“Yeah.”
“I took his class last semester! I still have all my homework for it,” she exclaims on the other end, “do you want me to send it over?”
“Yes, omg, I could kiss you right now,” you groan, resting your head on your arm sprawled across your desk in exhaustion.
“So definite no to hang out?” 
“Sorry, I’ll reach out later though,” you sigh, “also, my car is still in repair…apparently something came up with the engine. So we can’t go far unless we invite Mina.”
“That’s fine, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come if we invite her just to chauffeur,” she says sarcastically. “By the way, how’d the pictures come along? For the newsletter?”
You lift your head up off of the desk in a panic. Shit. You were so focused on turning in your digitals of the game to your professor that you totally forgot you were supposed to send them to Utahime as well. “Oh my god, I forgot. When do they finalize the release again?”
“Isn’t it today at noon? I sent over film club’s photos this morning,” she says. 
You glance at the time. 11:56am. 
“Nobara, I’ve gotta go. I need to call Utahime, sorry,” you say. She acknowledges you, telling you to hurry, and then you hang up.
You call Utahime and scribble down on a sticky note to paste on your wall as a reminder to buy her a loving gift basket one of these days because of course she extends the release deadline just for you. You finish touching up the digitals and then send them to her via email, and after you finish your statistics homework, she calls you again to meet up somewhere nearby.
“Thanks so much for coming here,” Utahime says as she sits across from you at one of the local cafes you frequent. “Also, this chai latte is so good, I’m honestly surprised.”
You nod at her. “This place has great drinks.” You slide a folder across the table to her and she sets her drink down to accept it.
“Sorry if it was a hassle, but I just had to ask for physicals of these photos,” she sighs as she pulls them out. “They’re amazing, seriously, I gasped when I saw them. I’m used to sifting through a lot of professional sports photos for the newsletter, for all of the teams on campus, but I’ve never seen photos as charming as these. It could be the film photography aspect, since most of the ones I see are digital, but I’m seriously shocked you could capture shots like this at a rowdy men’s soccer match.”
You’re shaking your head at her. “Please don’t compliment me so much, I’ll cry. And it’s no issue, I had a spare set of physicals from when I developed them. You can keep them.” 
She smiles at you. “Okay, well then, I think it goes without saying that I’ll definitely be including them for the sports recap this week. I’ll send you the money soon, too.”
You clap your hands together and interlock your fingers. “I’m. So. Grateful. For. You.” 
She laughs across from you and takes another sip of her latte before sitting back slightly, glancing at the photos spread across the table. “Hm…how busy are you for the rest of the semester?”
You tilt your head at her and bring your coffee to your lips, taking a sip before setting it back down. “Not terribly busy, I quit my job last month so I’m just taking my assignments as they come and go.”
Utahime nods at you, a thoughtful expression on her face, and she smooths down the fabric of her shirt. “Okay, well, I got an email from the school this morning that one of the newsletter photographers for the men’s soccer team is moving to a different city, so they’re looking to fill in the position as soon as possible and they asked if I knew anyone,” she mentions, resting her elbow on the table and then placing her hand on her cheek. “They usually only hire professionals, but if I put a word in for you, they’d probably offer it to you.”
Your eyes widen at her from across the table, heart beating a bit faster in your chest. 
“They pay really well for a part-time job. It’s essentially full-time pay for part-time hours,” she continues, “but it’s probably because you’ll have to travel with the team to their away games, including unofficial matches and conferences. If you’re not that busy for the next two months, then I think it’d be a good opportunity for you to build experience.” 
You purse your lips together, considering her words. Although it’s a bit different from your long-term career plans, it was still a great way to get experience before graduate school. And besides, you needed the money, considering you quit your job last month and your savings were starting to run thin–never mind the fact that your car repair bill went from a few thousand yen to somewhere in the tens-of-thousands. And you would prefer to still be able to afford rent. Oh, and eat. Possibly still pay for Netflix.
But then there was the fact that having that kind of job meant that you would be spending a lot of time with the soccer team, and therefore increases the chances of running into Gojo. And you’re supposed to be staying away from him to get over your feelings. 
“It sounds like an amazing opportunity, really,” you start, “...but I can’t.”
Utahime frowns at you and sits up straight. “Really? I thought you’d be excited. Why not?”
You sigh. “It’s complicated.”
“y/n…” Utahime starts, “I don’t really know what’s going on in your head right now, but isn’t this your dream? For your work to reach people? I know it’s only a stepping stone, believe me I know very well the path to becoming any sort of artist is an uphill battle of hell, but I’ve known you for a while now. And I know how much your dreams mean to you, and how hard you’re willing to work for them.”
Your heart swells in our chest at Utahime’s words. She was right, and you were starting to get really sick of letting your fears hold you back from what you really wanted in life. “...you’re right, I’m sorry. I’d love to be considered for the position, if you could recommend me.”
She smiles and nods at you. “Will do.”
The email for the job offer comes surprisingly fast, and you quickly read through it before accepting. It wasn’t a horrible time commitment, given you’d only have to take pictures during active play during matches, give or take a couple hours before, and the photographers rotate between who takes up each of the conferences so the work was split up. You were able to meet a few of the newsletter photographers & journalists during the game last week, so you already knew some of them. The offer letter came attached with a full calendar of the soccer team’s practice schedule, official match schedule, unofficial match schedule, conference schedule, and other publicity schedule, and you’re shocked at how busy all the players must be. The fact that they still have time to be students–and for most of them, active participants in fraternities–was honestly beyond you. 
It seemed like they only had four more official matches left, two being away matches, along with a couple of unofficial matches that they may or may not participate in depending on how the season goes for them. 
Their next game was on Friday against Kyoto university, and you were scheduled to shoot for their sports conference the day following as well. So you find yourself on a train embarked for the countryside, and you peer out of the window with a nervous feeling in your stomach. The sparkling skyscrapers and bustling crowds of Tokyo gradually started to give way into sights of expansive lush greenery, picturesque and charming towns, and winding rivers surrounded by trees. The closer you got to Kyoto, the sky became more gray until a steady drizzle began to fall against the train window. When you reached the final station, the rain had dissipated, and the taxi ride to the hotel was only about fifteen minutes. The journey felt exhausting, and you were so incredibly ready to pass out in a comfy bed. 
You stood underneath a small sidewalk roof near the vending machines lining the outside of the hotel, trying to keep your bag and suitcase with all your equipment in it dry from the remnant soft mist of rain still lingering in the air.  
“Hey, Utahime, sorry to bother you so late,” you say, holding your phone between your shoulder and ear, “but is it the Hilton on 3rd street? Or on Main? Because if it’s the one on Main, then I may have messed up-”
You stop speaking when you hear a masculine voice down the road towards the left, echoing off of the lined up small shops along the sidewalk, and your heart could have recognized the sound anywhere. You’re swift to turn and face that direction, almost dropping your phone in the process, and you see him– the object of all your suffering lately. 
Gojo stood there, wide-eyed and stopped completely in his tracks as the recognition of you under the dim street lighting flashes across his face. He’s in pajamas– a red long-sleeve cotton shirt that looks so stupidly soft and comfortable it almost makes you emotional, with some matching checkered red pants. It was the most casual clothing you’ve ever seen him in. His hair appears damp, slightly tousled, from what you could assume was an effort to dry it off fast. And he had crocs on. In sports mode. You make a mental note to ask him about his charms and if he’s willing to trade any of them with you. But maybe some other day. When it doesn’t hurt to think about him.
“y/n?” he calls your name out, astonished. He’s looking at you like he’s just seen a ghost but in the best way possible. 
You blink at him, heart skipping a beat just from the mere sight of him, and when you hear Utahime’s voice on the line you’re shaken out of your trance. “Oh, sorry, I’m still here. I…I think I just had my question answered. Thank you, have a good night.” You pull your phone down, gaze lingering on your screen for way too long because you can’t brave yourself to look over at the man to your left, and you end the call.
There’s the sound of remnant puddles of water splashing as he takes a few steps closer to you, and you can see his reflection in the water of the one in front of you. The expression on his face matches the one that was there when you last saw him outside of the UTokyo stadium at the west side exit. It’s an expression you could still see every time you close your eyes.
Finally turning to face him, you purse your lips together. “Hi.”
“Hey, what are you doing here?” he asks, voice laced with confusion and you see him take in your appearance with eager flicks of his gaze all around, like he couldn’t believe you were standing in front of him right now.
“Satoru!” another familiar voice calls out. “Did you get the orange-flavored ones too? Choso’s a fucking idiot and got the grape ones instead. I hate those. They taste like medicine. And ass. Not that I would know what–” You see Geto emerge from the darkness to Gojo’s side, and now he’s looking at you with a surprised look too. “Oh, it’s y/n. What are you doing here?”
“Hey, you two,” you chirp, trying to act as if an entire world of awkwardness wasn’t being exchanged between you and Gojo right now, for the sake of hoping that Geto wasn’t a very good judge of energy. “I’m here to take pictures of the soccer team.”
Your eyes flicker to Gojo, who is still looking at you like he’s never seen a person before. 
“Oh, is it for another one of your assignments?” Geto asks. 
“No, it’s not. It’s for the newsletter,” you explain to him, “I guess it’s my job now.”
There are a few more distant footsteps that follow behind the two of them, with the crinkling noises of plastic bags hitting against thighs echoing through the streets, and eventually they catch up. You see Nanami and the UTokyo team’s goalie, you believe his name is Choso, arrive at this little gathering that was taking place outside of the hotel.
“That’s awesome!” Geto exclaims. “I’m sure the newsletter will lead to a lot of exposure.”
“Who reads the newsletter?” Choso asks. 
Geto nudges him with his elbow. “Dude.”
“What?”
He then fills Choso in on the conversation, “Oh, my bad.”
“Don’t worry, y/n, I read the newsletter,” Geto says, “I read it like the morning paper.”
“It only comes out once a week, but nice try,” you respond, giving him a weary look.
Nanami crosses his arms. “I actually do happen to read it,” he says, “although I refrain from the soccer section. Feels rather egotistic to read it. I find the campus politics section to be enjoyable, though.”
The rest of you exchange annoyed glances at that.
“Satoru reads the soccer section,” Geto says, slinging an arm around him, “‘cause he’s full of himself.”
For a moment, Gojo remains silent, while his teammates, who had been observing him with amused expressions, gradually shift to awkward blinking, like they were expecting him to complain, or say something sarcastic, or joke around by now.
“I do read it,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I saw the release from yesterday. Your pictures were stunning.”
You’re flustered from the way he’s looking at you. “Thanks.” 
Choso opens the plastic bag he was holding, peering down into it. “Shit. Ice cream’s melting, guys.”
“Yeah, we should probably head back to the rooms,” Geto looks at you, “do you want any snacks?”
“Oh, no. I’m good. I was just about to go check-in,” you say to them.
The boys politely say bye to you, and Gojo mentions something about staying back for a bit and hands Nanami the plastic bag he was carrying before they head back into the hotel. And then the two of you are alone under this roof, drops of water falling from it in between the two of you. He takes a step towards you, and you instantly stiffen. He seems to notice because he sighs and then walks past you to the vending machine that was next to you, pulling out some spare change from his pocket and inputting it into the machine.
“Do you want anything to drink?” The machine feeds him something, and he crouches down to pick it up before standing up again.
“No, I’m good, thanks,” you say, hand clutching the handle of your suitcase. 
He cracks the can of his soda open. “So, you’re going to be traveling with us for the newsletter now?” he asks, so concisely, like he felt that every word comes with a tax.
“Yeah.”
“We don’t have to act like we’re strangers.”
You turn to face him. “What should we act like then?”
There’s a hesitant look in his expression as he looks down at his feet and then back up at you. “Can’t we at least be friends?”
The question softens you at your core, the tone of his voice sounding genuine. Being friends with him sounds so nice, and you kind of wish that’s what you two always were. Just friends. Maybe it would have avoided all of this heartache. But deep inside you knew that just being friends with him wasn’t an option anymore, at least not for now. “No, sorry. That’s just a recipe for disaster. I have to go check-in now.”
You grab your tote bag from the bench, grip tight onto your suitcase handle and make your way splashing across the shallow puddles then through the hotel’s automatic doors into the warmth of the lobby. 
The lighting inside was warm and there were moderately high ceilings adorned with vintage-looking chandeliers. Around the perimeter, there were amenities including a cozy lounge with a fireplace, a small bar serving cocktails, as well as a business lounge with booths and multiple TVs mounted to the walls playing the local news. It made you feel like you were on vacation, and getting to a hotel at this hour while on vacation always meant that you were about ready to pass out on some freshly washed and tucked white linen sheets after taking a nice warm shower with a lavender-scented mini soap bar.
Making your way through the maze of plush seating areas, you get to the concierge desk to check-in. There was a professionally-dressed woman with a slicked-back bun standing there behind the counter, her eyes scanning the computer screen in front of her, and a big, burly man that stood behind her wearing all black that appeared to be security.
“Hello, I’m here to check-in,” you say, placing your forearm on the cold black counter.
The lady doesn’t look up from the computer screen. You clear your throat.
“Oh, hello. Name on the reservation?” she asks you.
You take a look down at your phone screen. The reservation was still under the name of the person that had recently quit the job. “Yui Ishikawa.”
The lady behind the counter hums to herself, obnoxiously tapping at the keyboard with only one of her index fingers. She was chewing gum. “Hm. Don’t see that name here.”
“What?” You squint at your phone and refresh the page, then turn it to face her. “But it’s on your official booking site. There was email confirmation too.”
She glances at your phone screen then taps at the keyboard again, still obnoxiously loud, but she uses her other index finger this time. “Yeah, still nothing.”
“This has to be some kind of mistake,” you say to her.
She looks up at you with an annoyed expression. “Do you want to take a look at the screen? See for yourself.” She turns the monitor to face you. 
You don’t even work here, but you could see clear as day on their interface software that there was a reservation for this Yui Ishikawa woman at this time tonight. You point at it. “It’s right there. The reservation is literally right there.”
She turns the screen back to herself and squints at it. “Oh. Well, unfortunately, we already gave that room to someone else. Since it wasn’t there on our system a half hour ago.”
“What? How is that fair?” You were starting to get seriously annoyed. That refreshing shower you were dreaming of was starting to sound more of a need than a want with every passing minute. “Can you give me another room?”
“No, sorry, we’re all booked for tonight,” she tells you, without offering any additional help.
You look at her baffled. The big burly man behind her has now taken an interest in the conversation as well. “Okay…can you tell me if there are any hotels nearby that I could stay at?”
“Look. This is the countryside, ma’am, there are only a handful of hotels in this area that aren’t tourist accommodations. It’s also the night before a men’s college soccer match, and there seems to be some business seminar taking place nearby too. You can call and check, but the closest hotel this large is about an hour away,” she tells you. 
“What? An hour away? I can’t afford a cab ride like that,” you tell her.
“Unfortunately, that isn’t really my problem,” she says.
You blink at her. “Are you being serious? This is ridiculous.”
“Ma’am, we’re going to have to ask you to leave if you can’t comply with our booking rules,” she declares.
“Leave?! You’re the ones that messed up the booking!” You’re yelling now, a few heads turning from the bar at the back. Exhaustion was pulsing through your veins and your filter was slipping. “Do you have any idea how to do your damn job?”
The woman guffaws at you. “Alright, that’s it.” She snaps her fingers, and you watch as the big, burly man walks around the counter of the concierge desk to make his way to you.
You take a step back, watching in horror as he towers over you and grabs onto your arm. “Let’s leave without any issues, miss,” he says in a deep voice.
“What?! But– hey, that’s my suitcase! Don’t– wait–”
“Woah, woah, woah,” you hear a familiar voice call out from the left. “What’s going on here?”
The three of you turn your heads in the direction of the voice, and you see Gojo, still clad in those ridiculously soft-looking pajamas, doing a light jog up to the counter.
The woman at the reception desk straightens herself up immediately, and she pets down on her dress and fixes her hair at the mere sight of him. You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Nothing to see here, sir! Just a crazy woman that can’t comprehend hotel establishment rules.”
“That crazy woman just so happens to be my wife,” he says, pulling the big burly man’s hand off of your arm.
All three of you look at him dumbfounded. 
“Y-Your wife?” the woman asks, sounding equally surprised and disappointed. “But she’s complaining about the fact that she doesn’t have a room.”
“I know, she does that all the time,” he sighs, “she’s got–...early-onset…dementia. Sweetheart, what did I tell you about packing up all your things and leaving the room when I’m not watching you?”
You give him a what the fuck look. He scowls at you to just play along.
“So…she’s with you?” the woman asks.
Gojo nods. “She always forgets that we’ve already booked a room together. Just a silly little sickly lady. Isn’t that right, honey?” He’s holding your shoulders and making you face the concierge woman.
“Y-Yes…” you say awkwardly, trying to put on a smile.
“So, if you could forgive her behavior,” he says with a super pleading voice, pulling you into him so your back is flush against his front side. “I’ll keep her in check from now on.”
The woman lets out a scoff in disbelief. “Alright…just don’t let her out again.” You send her a nasty look. The big burly man lets out a hmph and steps away from you. 
“Sure thing. Let’s go, honey,” Gojo says, grabbing the handle of your suitcase in one hand and your upper arm in his other, dragging you with him across the lobby to the elevators. It isn’t until he’s pressed the up button and you finally gain your footing again after stumbling a few steps that you yank away from his grip.
“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, feeling embarrassed.
He looks down at you with a raise of his eyebrow. “Saving you from getting kicked out of the only decent hotel within a thirty-mile radius?”
“I didn’t need your help, I had the situation under control,” you mumble, smoothing out the layers of your clothing.
“Yes. That’s exactly what that looked like,” he muses as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, taking your suitcase with him as hostage. You panic at the sight and step inside with him, the door closing behind you. 
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“To my room,” he says, pressing a button on the control pad, “you couldn’t get one, right?”
Your eyes widen. “No…I couldn’t.” 
Gojo’s room is on the fourth floor, eleven units down to the right, and you follow him with dragging feet all the way down. Once he makes it in front of the door and takes the keycard out of his pocket, he pauses and looks over at you. “Waiting for you to thank me.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “For what?”
He was waving the card in the air tauntingly. “You look exhausted as hell right now. I’m the one with the access to a nice hotel vanity and a soft, warm bed,” he practically purrs the words.
You’re instantly folding. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, honey,” he chimes, pressing the card to the reader.
“Stop calling me that,” you grumble as he opens the door for you.
You step into the room, rolling your suitcase inside with you, and take a look around. There was a single bed with the headboard up against the left-side wall, a nightstand on both sides and a desk where you noticed Gojo had his laptop open and a few books out. The bathroom was to the right, and there was a long table that had a coffee machine as well as the TV on top of it.
You place your suitcase against the wall then turn around, standing only a few feet from the entrance of the room, to find Gojo still standing outside in the hallway.
“Do you have to go somewhere?” you ask him. “Why are you just standing there?”
“Oh, I don’t need any of my other stuff,” he says to you, tapping at his pocket where you can see the imprint of his wallet, “room’s all yours.”
Your eyes widen at him. “Wait…are you going to sleep somewhere else?”
He tilts his head at you, as if that was obvious. “Yeah, I was going to go crash on the couch in Suguru’s room or something.”
“But–” you start, stopping yourself. 
He’s waiting for you to speak, but you can’t.
“Well…good night, then,” he says and he turns to the side, about to walk down the hall, when you reach out and grab the sleeve of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.
This was a bad idea. You’re supposed to be putting distance between the two of you right now, so that you can get over him. This was a man that very clearly said he didn’t have feelings for you. But honestly, you missed him. You missed him so damn much this past week, and you can only be strong for so long. 
“You have an important match tomorrow,” you say quietly, “you should be getting a good night’s rest. We’ll share the bed.”
He turns to face you, looking down at where you were pinching the fabric of his shirt, which was just as soft as you had imagined, and he glances up to meet your gaze once again. “I’m…really confused right now.”
“What if you guys lose and are booted from the competition, and I have to spend the rest of my life regretting the fact that the reason the school lost a 12-year championship streak is all because I made you sleep on a couch?” you ask him.
He takes a step towards you. “You really want me to stay?” His voice was low.
“Yes,” you say. “We’re mature adults. Despite everything, we can just…share a bed for one night, right?”
He’s silent for a moment. “I think you trust me a little too much.”
Your face felt hot. “Are you telling me that I shouldn’t?”
“I’m telling you that you should really think this through,” he says.
“Just stay. Please.” The tone to your voice came off much more desperate than you would’ve liked.
He looks at you like the last thing in the world he could say right now was no. “You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“Positive?”
“Satoru.”
“Okay,” he says, walking past you into the room, like he wasn’t really in the mood to argue about it anymore.
You sigh, sulking your shoulders a little bit, and watch as he takes a seat at the desk and continues to click through things on his laptop, occasionally sipping on the cup of coffee he had made for himself, as if your presence here was no unnatural thing. 
This all felt so domestic for you. This feels like the most intimate the two of you have been with one another, despite the fact he’s literally made you cum with his tongue before. 
“Who drinks coffee at this hour?” you ask, crouching down to unzip your suitcase, opening it up to find your cosmetics bag and a fresh pair of clothes to change into.
“Caffeine doesn’t really affect me anymore.” His eyes were still stuck on his laptop screen.
“You sound dead inside,” you comment, standing back up straight. You step over your suitcase that was on the floor and head into the bathroom, about to close the door but you open it enough to peer over at him from inside. “I’m going to take a shower,” you announce.
You see him poke his tongue to his cheek, leg bouncing up and down underneath the desk, and he squints at his laptop screen like there’s something so damn important that he must concentrate on or else the entire universe would collapse inside of a black hole. “Cool. Have fun.”
“I will.” 
“I’m glad.”
“No peeping.”
“There’s a lock on the bathroom door. Feel free to use it.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.” And then you’re shutting the door. 
It felt nice to freshen up, especially after that long journey, and then you’re doing your skincare in the mirror while you’re wrapped in a towel, trying to forget the fact that the man you quite seriously have immense feelings for is somewhere outside that door just a few feet away in this small hotel room. You spray a spritz of your perfume onto your skin, something there’s literally no point in doing before bedtime, but you still do it…for no particular reason at all, obviously. 
When you step back out into the room, Gojo’s eyes are instantly on you from where he stood near the closet. He takes in your appearance and lets out a laugh, looking at you with amusement.
“What?” you ask.
“You look so cute,” he says, “with your little sloth pajamas.”
You’re fully blushing as you make your way over to the armchair in the room to set your cosmetics bag down on it to sort through the mess you’ve just made of it. “Don’t call me cute,” you scold, searching for your lip balm. 
You could feel his frown from behind you. “You don’t like it?” 
“No. I love it.”
“I’m not following.”
You turn around to face him. “Satoru. You promised me you wouldn’t lead me on anymore. That includes teasing me or complimenting me.”
He looks at you incredulously. “What? I can’t even call you cute? This fucking sucks.”
“Your problem,” you say.
“So you’re cool with sharing a bed, but you’re not cool with me complimenting you,” he lays it out.
“We’re sharing this bed out of the kindness of my own heart,” you say to him, “because I care oh-so-very-much about your soccer career, and understand how important good sleep is for an athlete’s performance. I’m just that considerate of a person.” You point a strict finger at him. “But for your information, if you touch me while we’re in bed, I’ll kill you.”
“Hm. Not sure if I feel threatened or turned on right now,” he says.
You roll your eyes and finally zip up your cosmetics bag, set it on the table then make your way to the left side of the bed. When you glance at the nightstand, you notice Gojo has his wallet, his phone and his charger all situated there.
“Why’s your stuff here?” you ask him.
“Huh? Oh, I was going to sleep on that side,” he says to you.
“I usually sleep on the left side,” you tell him.
“But I usually sleep on the left side.”
You blink at him.
“I–…I’ll sleep on the right side,” he suggests, shoulders tense and on edge.
“Okay,” you shrug, and move his stuff.
Gojo spends some time freshening up in the bathroom too, and when he comes out he looks like he’s actually tired, and you feel like it’s the first time you’ve seen him look as worn out as he probably should be for someone as busy as him. You’re already settled under the sheets, the duvet pulled all the way up to your chin as you lay on your back. He comes up to the right side of the bed, checking his phone for a few minutes while standing and rubbing at the back of his neck, then plugs his phone into the charger. He grabs the sheets, about to pull them back, when he pauses and looks at you.
“Are you su-”
“If you ask me if I’m sure about this one more time, I will no longer feel sorry for you, and will make you go sleep on the love-stained couch,” you threaten him.
He grimaces at your choice of words and pulls the sheets back, slipping himself into bed. “Why do you have to put it like that? You’re gross. Also, I’m pretty sure this bed has seen less-than-holy things too.”
The only lighting in the room came from the warm, dim bulb of the night lamp at Gojo’s nightstand. An incredibly awkward silence settles between the two of you. Or maybe it’s just awkward for you, because he seems fine. He’s on his back too, looking up at the ceiling, practically motionless but there’s the faintest sound of his breathing every once in a while and it’s a sound you’ve never heard in such detail before.
He turns his head to you, but you don’t meet his gaze just yet. You shuffle a little bit, hip bumping against his side, elbow hitting his arm. He’s masculine next to you, shoulders hard, muscles heavy, but when you finally turn your head to glance at him and see the expression on his face, you realize that everything about him was rigid—except for the way he was looking at you.
“When did you sneak it in?” he asks.
“Sneak what in?” 
“The can of strawberry vanilla soda. Into my bag.”
You swear your heart stills a little in your chest. 
“Before,” is all you say to him.
He sighs. “y/n…”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to feel bad for me. I wanted you to have it, regardless of how I thought my confession would go,” you assure.
It’s hard to read his expression from the side while he’s looking up at the ceiling, but it’s softer than it was a second ago. The need to change the subject consumes you.
“Why do you have calluses on your fingertips?” you ask him. “You’re a soccer player, you don’t use your hands for anything.”
“I play the guitar,” he replies simply.
You perch yourself up on an elbow, looking down at him with interest. His eyes flicker to your face. “Really?”
“No. I was just kidding. Hate the way you got excited though. I might have to pick up a guitar now.”
“Can you just answer me?” you sigh, flopping down onto your back again.
He laughs a little, a sound you feel like you could get drunk on at this point. He lifts his head up off the pillow enough to tuck his right hand underneath it, then rests it back down. You wish there was a mirror on the ceiling so you could see the flex of his arm. “Coach has us do the rock climbing wall at the gym at least once a week for practice. He thinks it’s a good workout. Causes a hell of a lot of skin tear though.”
“That’s it? That’s the reason?”
“Mhm.”
You shake your head, “You should learn how to play the guitar, because that’s a lame reason to have calluses.”
He lifts his head up off the pillow again and brings the hand that was tucked under his nape to in front of his face and he just looks at it. You look at it too. “Why are you so obsessed with the state of my hands? 
“A girl can’t be curious?” you ask.
“They’re not that bad.” You wonder if you’ve made him self-conscious. 
You watch the way he flexes his fingers open and then closed. He turns it around, and you can see the veins trailing down from the valleys of his knuckles, disappearing into the fabric of his long sleeve. You remember that party, the two of you in that bathroom, when his hands were all over you, and it’s suddenly a little hard to breathe. He turns his hand again so the palm faces him, but now it’s also slightly turned towards you too.
“They’re bad here,” you say, pointing to his ring finger where you see slight peeling at the tip. The padded skin of your finger touches his skin. “A little bad here, too.” You point to his index finger, careless enough to allow all of your fingers to brush against his this time.
He watches you. “Your hands are really small,” he comments, like it was a marvel to him.
You look over at him briefly, and there’s not a single sign of tension in his face as he observes the image of your hand next to his hand in the air above him. He looked like he was at peace.
“Yours are just big,” you tell him. 
He knows he’s not supposed to, and you really shouldn’t have let him, but he interlocks his fingers with yours regardless, holding onto your hand. You feel the roughness of those calluses all across your soft skin. His thumb runs over the curve of your knuckle, almost in a soothing way, like he was trying to apologize to you for something. And this was the only way he knew how. 
Something sobers him up, because he suddenly pulls his fingers from yours and drops his hand to the duvet. Your hand lingers in the air for a few seconds before you do the same. And now you’re both awkwardly staring up at the ceiling again.
“Sorry,” he says, barely above a whisper.
“It’s okay,” you whisper too.
The silence settles for longer.
He sighs. “It’s not you, it’s me,” he says out of nowhere.
“Huh?” you turned your body a little to face him, and he was looking up at the ceiling as if there was something across the texture that he was trying to decipher.
“I don’t want you thinking that the reason I can’t-,” he pauses, to think carefully about his words, “...that the reason I can’t return your feelings is because of you, or anything you’ve done. It’s been a while since I’ve liked anyone to be honest, and I’m just really not looking to date right now.”
You’re hurt by his words. Because even if he didn’t want to date anyone, you thought that he would’ve at least tried to for you. You thought that he had at least some feelings that the two of you could’ve worked off of. “Why don’t you want to date anyone?”
“Reasons.”
“Obviously. What reasons?” you prod. When he doesn’t respond, you sigh. “If it’s something traumatic, I get it. My hamster died in the fourth grade,” you say, “I’ve never known peace since.”
He turns onto his side to face you with a soft and amused smile on his face. “Sorry to hear that. What was your hamster’s name?”
You try not to feel hot from the burn of his gaze and you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling again. “Mr. Guilmon,” you say.
“Like…guilmon from digimon?
“Mhm.”
“You like digimon?”
“Oh yeah, I used to watch it all the time when I was a kid. My mom wanted to name my hamster ‘Scout’ but I refused,” you tell him, blinking a few times as the memories from your childhood come back to you. A small smile makes its way onto your face.
“I love digimon,” he says, fast, like he couldn’t contain it. 
“Really?” you give him a sidewards glance, a little surprised.
He hesitates slightly before sighing, turning over in the opposite direction to reach for his wallet on his nightstand. You feel the fabric of the duvet stretch across you from the movement, and you remember just how intimate this all felt. He’s laying on his back again, holding his wallet up in the air with both hands as he flips it open, then slides his credit card up out of the slot, and shows it to you. Digimon themed. You have to purse your lips together to hold back your laughter.
He turns his head to look at you when you can’t help but let a little noise escape your mouth, and you can see through the laughter-induced sheen of tears in your eyes that he’s frowning.
“Hey–”
“I’m sorry–” you're fully laughing at this point, hand over your mouth to try to contain yourself, “it’s just– oh my god— you’re the last person I would’ve expected to have been such a nerd.” 
“I’m not a nerd–” he tries to argue but you snatch the card out of his hand to study it closer, and also to memorize the numbers on the back.
“Popular soccer boy Gojo Satoru,” you’re giggling, “has a custom Digimon credit card.”
When he tries to reach for it, you stretch your arm off to the left. His weight leans on you, chest pressing against the curve of your shoulder, arm extending across you as he tries to grab his card back. “Quit it,” he mutters. 
“No,” you say, holding it further to your left, weakly trying to push him away from you.
“Quit it,” he repeats, face scowling now with what looks like embarrassment, and he holds his upper body up by the elbow, leaning over you even more to reclaim it, “or else.”
“Or else, what?” you say through wheezes, and it seems like something in him snaps because suddenly he grabs your wrist, hard, pinning it down onto the mattress, holding it there next to your head, and his entire upper body is towering over you. Shocked, you’re breathing fast, your eyes darting across his face, and he’s looking at you with a furrowed brow and a tense jaw.
“Or else I won’t keep my promise,” he says through a harsh breath, his voice low and rough.
You’re stunned underneath him. “What promise?” you ask, breathlessly. 
He leans down closer, to the point where the fringe of his hair brushes against your forehead. “My promise to hold myself back from you.”
You swallow hard, chest heaving. You feel the heat of his hand on your wrist burning through to your veins. You try to squirm slightly in his grip, but he just presses your wrist down further into the mattress.
He glances at your lips, eyes dilated and stern, and leans down even closer to you. “Do you have any idea how bad I’ve been wanting to punish you for leaving me in that bathroom by myself?” he says in a voice so husky you feel the arousal build at your center the second your head registers it.
You can’t find your words. He keeps his eyes locked on yours, as if to make sure yours stay on his too, and you’re docile under him until he’s distracted you enough to pinch his credit card between two of his fingers and discretely pull it out from your grip. He then lets go of your wrist and disappears out of your line of sight when he flops back down onto the mattress next to you, tucking his card back into his wallet.
“But I won’t. Because I’m a nice person, and will respect your space. Or whatever.” 
You don’t know what to say, your hand finding a place over your heart as you try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down.
“We should probably go to sleep,” he sighs after a minute, tossing his wallet back onto the nightstand and reaching over to turn off the light.
It’s dark now in the room, the only light coming from through the layered fabrics of the curtains. It's a cold light, possibly from the moon and maybe some dim neighboring white street lights, but it’s enough to where you could still see the slight texture of the ceiling, and maybe his face.
You both spend a few minutes trying to get comfortable. You try not to bump your butt against him, or brush your chest against his arm, but it happens a couple times anyway, and you mentally curse yourself for it. The rise of the duvet fabric from his chest becomes shallow with his breathing, and you think he’s fallen asleep, but then the two of you turn over at the exact same time, facing each other, eyes flying open and gazes meeting. It startles the both of you, but neither of you look away or say a word. The two of you just sit in the moment for what feels like hours, and very could’ve easily been. 
You’re the first to break the silence. “You know, there was a time where I thought that you weren’t even real.” You’re speaking hushed, like you’re afraid someone will hear, even though there’s only two souls in this room right now.
“What?” he asks, a slight raise to his eyebrow. “...why.”
“I don’t know. You’re like this urban legend around campus. You probably don’t know it, since you’re in it, but the world you’re in is very different from the world the rest of us students are in.”
He’s silent for a moment, his face being briefly illuminated by the reflection of a car’s headlights on the windows of the surrounding building. “I think I know what you mean.”
You blink at him. “I thought you would have a few more follow-up questions to that, but I guess you’re surprisingly self-aware.”
He hums to himself. “I think I can just put it into perspective.”
“Perspective?” you ask. You’re hanging onto every single one of his words tonight. You don’t want a single one of them slipping through you, not understood.
“Yeah,” he says, “there are moments where I feel like I’m not in that world anymore. And it feels nice. To get out of it.”
You want to ask him when those moments are, but he’s quick to speak again.
“I guess that means I’m aware of the moments where I am in it, so I know that it exists, if that makes sense? I don’t know.” He looks down at your pajamas, at the dancing sloth at the front, and the crease to his brow relaxes slightly. 
“Mhm, makes sense.”
His eyes are back on you, studying. There’s a strange look on his face that you can’t really comprehend. “I want to know about your world,” he says.
You breathe in deep, and exhale shallow. “My world is simple. I want to be a filmmaker and then live in a little cottage.”
He smiles at you. “A little cottage?”
“Yeah,” you say, “maybe in the countryside. The Italian countryside. With my own garden in the backyard so I can use fresh zucchini in my salads.”
“Any animals? Pets?” he asks, like he’s envisioning it all in his head too. 
“Maybe some chickens,” you say, “I promised Mr. Guilmon I’d name another one of my pets after him someday. I have to keep my promise.”
He nods. “You do.”
There’s another silence, but it doesn’t feel awkward this time.
“Did you turn your photos in to your professor?” he asks.
“Yeah, I did,” you tell him. “Earlier this week.”
“Nice. What about your reference for grad school?”
“I asked him for it.”
“Oh?” His eyebrows raise. “How’d it go?”
“Mm…I was really nervous, but it went well. He said he’d do it.”
There’s such a tenderness to his expression that you feel so compelled to kiss him right now. “That’s awesome. I’m proud of you. That’s one step closer to your dream.”
You purse your lips together from his words, sitting with the warm feeling in your chest. You want to thank him again, but instead all you say is “we’re even now.”
He lets out a small chuckle. It comes from his throat. “You’ve said that so many times.”
“I know.” Because you can’t believe it’s all over. This little arrangement between the two of you. You don’t want it to be over. “I can’t remember when the first time I said it was.”
“That night,” he answers you fast and with certainty, like it was at the forefront of his mind, “when you drove over rocks. And we sat together on the curb. And I realized how badly you take care of your car. You don’t need thousands of chain restaurant napkins in your glovebox, by the way. No matter how much you might think you do.”
“Wow. I was almost romanced by you for a second, but you ruined it,” you mumble.
You’re instantly taken back to that night. You remember the gentle quality in his eyes as he stared up at the stars, and you can still see the reflection of that sky in his eyes right now with the way he’s looking at you. 
“I really liked you that night,” you whisper, “I wish you were like that all the time.”
“Am I not like that all the time?” he asks, voice soft to match yours.
“No,” you say, “sometimes you’re mean.”
His eyes on you are gentle, somewhat careful. “I’m sorry for being mean.” 
You wonder if you can change his mind. If you can will him to like you back, if you can will him into wanting a relationship with you. You want to be his exception, not his rule.
“It’s okay. I’m mean sometimes, too,” you say, “mean to myself for sharing a bed with a guy that doesn’t like me.” He’s looking at your lips as you speak. “I’m bad like that.”
“You’re not bad,” is all he says.
“I am,” you say, and you inch closer to him, until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. You look up at him, faces inches away. You feel so safe with him, and yet you also feel scared, because you like him so much that you would let him ruin you if he wanted to. You press a flat palm to his shirt, searching for his heart, and you find that it’s beating fast in his chest. “I’m a bad woman, Satoru.”
“y/n,” he says, like a warning.
“I mean it,” you whisper.
“You said you’d kill me if I touch you,” he reminds you, sounding a little breathless.
“I can’t kill you, you’re way stronger than me,” you whisper, “so touch me.” Your hand is gripping onto the fabric of his shirt now, tight, with desire. He’s looking at you with a whole lot of desire too, but there was something else there as well. “Please.”
He wraps his hand around your wrist–the heat of his touch that you so badly wanted, craved, finally on you–but it’s to pull you away from him. Your grasp on his shirt releases and he brings your hand to the front of your chest, laying it down gently before letting it go. Your wrist lays limp there, missing his touch. Limp in front of your beating heart.
“Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” he says softly. 
Your eyes widen when you look at him, and you couldn’t even hide the hurt that settled across your face if you tried. Gaze dropping to his chest, you see the way it was rising with every breath he took, and for the second time in this life, you’ve felt so utterly rejected by him. You give him a compliant nod, and scootch back away from him before turning away. He stays as he is, watching your back, and you can feel his gaze on the nape of your neck. 
Counting the minutes to fall asleep felt exhausting, but the last thing you remember before you closed your eyes was the feeling of a tear trickling down onto your pillow, wet and cold against your cheek.
You wake up the next morning to an empty bed, and an even emptier feeling heart. There’s also this weird feeling of disappointment within you, and you don’t really know why.
Grabbing your phone on the nightstand, you quickly search for the email with the men’s soccer team practice schedule, and you see that they had a sharp 8am practice this morning before the game in the afternoon. The time reads 6:37am, and you’re wondering where Gojo went so early in the morning before heading off to the practice field.
You went back to sleep for a couple hours, and then woke up again. By the time you took a shower, got dressed, and went downstairs to the hotel lobby to eat breakfast, it was already 10:00am and it was time to make it to the field so you could set up and calibrate your camera prior to taking photos for the match. Following Utahime’s gameday instructions, you took a cab to the location with all of your gear.
The Kyoto soccer stadium was less of a stadium and more of an extremely large and open expanse of grass that had enormous silver metal stands stretching across the perimeter. It was something you would expect of an area in the countryside, but security was still somehow tight across the fenced off area. 
It was still a couple hours before the game, so the field was bustling with pre-game set-ups and the stands were empty. There were a few sports canopies being put up, as well as a small truck with workers that were working to stock up the hydration stations. A few men in suits were seated at tables with notepads and clipboards, looking busy in conversation and on what sounded like business calls. As you walk down the sidelines, you notice a few other people checking the distances between the goals and the chalk markings across the field. The stands were extremely close to all of the action, and when you look to the right, you see a couple of familiar faces there.
“Ah, y/n! We’re over here.”
You approach the group of three people, all seated on the lowest metal bench of one of the spectator sections. There were a bunch of tripods, cameras, cases, and laptops sprawled across in front of them. You recognize Hana and Minato, but you don’t recognize the other man sitting with them. You had met Hana and Minato at the game against Osaka last week, they were both professional photographers for the newsletter.
Hana hops off the bench and comes up to you. “It’s seriously so cool you’re here with us and that Utahime got you this gig,” she says to you with a smile. “Make sure your schedule is free on nights after matches, all us photographers usually get dinner together afterwards. You’re the baby out of us, so we’ll pay for you.”
You return her smile with one of your own. “That’s sweet, and sure I’ll try to.” 
You glance at the man whose name you didn’t know, your gaze meeting his, and soon enough he’s jumping up onto his feet too and making his way over to you.
“Ah, this is Kaito. Kai for short,” Hana says, gesturing to the man, and then to you.
Kai extends his hand out for you to shake. He’s tall and a bit lean. His style is really boyish—totally nailing the street photographer outfit with the white shirt underneath a flannel one, and some Carhartt pants paired with some Vans. You reach out to shake his hand, and he holds onto it for a second longer than you would’ve expected.
“Hi,” you greet him and tell him your name.
“That’s a nice name,” he says with a smile.
Hana claps her hands together. “Okay! We all know each other now, that’s great. We should get started prepping before the players get here, I believe they’re scheduled to be here in an hour.” She walks over to the benches and picks up her digital camera. Minato grabs his as well as his tripod, then walks over to Hana’s side. “The way we usually do it is to split the field into corners, and each of us works that perimeter. The videographers are here too, so just make sure you don’t accidentally knock over or stand in front of one of their cameras.”
All three of you nod at her and you unzip your case to take your film camera out. Kai is next to you, looking at the device in your hands curiously.
“Kai, you can work with y/n for today since it’s her first day. Split up those two corners over there,” Hana says, pointing to the other end of the field. You and Kai look in that direction. “Minato and I will take the other short end.”
With a few more discussions and detailed instructions, the four of you disperse to your assigned locations. You’re a step ahead of Kai, although he should really be the one leading your stride since you’re the new one here, but he soon enough catches up to you.
“Is that a Canon AE-1?” he asks you, pointing to your camera.
You look at him a little surprised. “Yeah, it is. As vintage as they get.”
“Sweet, I used to shoot on film too. Second-hand?” 
“No, third. Still cost me an arm and a leg, though,” you sigh.
He laughs. “They’re not that expensive.”
“I’m a broke college student. I sometimes have to choose between paying rent and eating food,” you say to him.
He kicks at a random can on the grass, sending it flying forward, instead of picking it up. “Yeah, definitely don’t miss those days.”
“When did you graduate?” you ask.
“From UTokyo two years ago,” he says. 
You bend over to pick up the can he kicked and jog a little to the trashcan nearby, tossing it in, then jog back to him. “That’s nice. You’ve been doing this for two years?”
“Yup,” he says to you as the two of you reach the corner of the field outlined by freshly drawn chalk. He kneels down on the grass, sets his camera case down, and opens it up. Your jaw drops.
“Is that a—Leica camera?” you ask him, shocked.
He smirks up at you. “Sure is.”
“Oh, so you’re just rich, then,” you sit down on the grass to look at it with interest, marveling at its condition.
“Nope. I’ll bet I got it for cheaper than your Canon there,” he points to the camera hung at your neck.
You meet his gaze. “No way.”
“Way,” he says, pulling out the attachable lens before wiping at it with a microfiber cloth, “I know a guy. He sells used cameras. The only issue is you’ve gotta refurbish them yourself.” 
You sigh. “Wonderful. Because I would know how to do that.”
He lets out a half-laugh, and you glance up briefly to look at his expression. He was amused. “It’s pretty easy, just gotta do it once. And then you’ll have a used Leica that works brand-new, all for just under a hundred-thousand yen.”
You’re looking at him with surprise again. “That cheap?”
“Yup.”
“Wow…” Your finger plays with the lens cap on your camera.
“If you want, I can send you his info. But if you want to meet up with him, it’ll probably have to be facilitated through me,” Kai says, “He takes clients by recommendation. No use in selling a used camera to an idiot that doesn’t know how to refurbish it. He’s looking for niche photographers that have the interest.”
You press your lips together, considering it. “Sure.”
He hands his phone to you. “Alright, gimme your number.”
You hesitate for a second before typing your number into his contacts then hand it back and watch as he saves it in his phone. “Canon girl. Won’t forget ya.”
The two of you make work for a second, eyeing the field and mapping out angles of where to get the best shots during play. Kai gives you some pointers and you’re marveling at how good they are.
“Not really used to shooting on film anymore,” he mumbles, peering through the hole on your camera when you handed it over to him, “but usually a one over five-hundred shutter speed works well for sports. I’d switch between that and over two-fifty though, to avoid a blurry finish.”
“Thanks,” you say to him, wanting to write all this down to not forget it. “Wish I knew this last week.”
“Why shoot on film?” he asks out of nowhere, handing your camera back to you. “Why not digital?”
“Oh, it’s a personal interest,” you say to him, adjusting your shutter speed as he suggested, “I think there’s a charm to it. I want to be a movie maker, and shoot on film medium.”
He frowns at you. “How are you going to do that?”
You tilt your head at him, shuffling on the grass. “I’m going to apply to the film graduate program at UTokyo to start.”
He laughs at that from where he’s seated across from you. “Really? That’s a waste of your time.”
Your heart sinks a little in your chest from his tone. “Why would it be a waste of my time?”
He turns to face you more directly. “y/n, trust me, I know this career path. Been there, done that. Millions of film majors like yourself always have these big-ass dreams like ‘I want to become a director, I want to do screenplay’ etc., but only one or two of them actually succeed.” 
Your shoulders sulk. It’s not the first time you’ve heard those words from someone—your own parents practically recited them word-for-word before you headed off to college—but you had been doing really well all of senior year to ignore that nagging little voice in your head. It was honestly quite triggering to hear it all again right now. “Well, I think I can do it.”
He lets out a short scoff. “You sound real convincing there.” When he catches sight of your upset expression, he straightens his back a little. “My bad. Just trying to look out for you. I’m your senior in this industry. I know my way around these things. Trust me.”
You nod slowly. “I know. Thanks.” Part of you wonders if he’s just projecting.
“Well anyway,” he shrugs, “I think you should just focus on photography for now. It’s the safest career option for you to do.”
“I guess you’re right,” you say, wanting to diffuse the conversation.
The two of you disperse to your assigned corners once the stands start to fill with spectators. Shortly after, the players make their introductions onto the field, and you can see Gojo across the field. He’s too far to read his expression, but for some reason when you look at him, that disappointed feeling from this morning comes back to you. You try to push it down and just focus on your task at hand.
UTokyo does well during the match, and Gojo seems to be playing much better than the Osaka game last week, scoring two goals within the first half. There were a couple of times where there were throw-ins near your corner, and you made eye contact with him as he’s breathing heavily, wiping the sweat off his face with his jersey, and every time you look at him, that melancholic feeling washes over you again. UTokyo wins 3-2, the crowd evidently disappointed as they were rooting for their home team, and by the time the disgruntled fans started to clear the stands, the sun was setting over the horizon and the sky was a golden color.
The referees on the field begin to oversee the post-match proceedings with the players. Kai comes around to meet you at your corner, and Hana and Minato arrive there too.
“Hey team! How’d it go?” Hana asks, a little out of breath from her journey over here.
“Went fine,” Kai responds.
“It was a little tricky,” you comment, “but I think my photos came out well.”
Hana nods. “Alright, sounds good. Are we still on for dinner tonight?”
Kai and Minato nod, and then all three sets of eyes are on you. You hesitate for a moment, and look off past them to where you see the group of soccer players in conversations with the coaches and referees. You see Gojo standing there, his hands on his hips as he peered across the field, tilting his neck to the side repeatedly, and you realize he had been doing that all match long. That unsettling feeling within you starts to brew once again. “Uh, I’m really sorry, but I’m not feeling very well. I think I might just head back to the hotel.”
Hana and Minato nod at you with a concerned expression, while Kai just looks disappointed.
“Okay, well, I hope you feel better,” she says.
You end up taking an Uber back to the hotel in haste, not wanting to run into Gojo or any of the other soccer players after their match, and make it to the room, using the key card that Gojo gave you to get inside. You take a shower to freshen up, and by the time it’s 7pm, you’re starving. You put on a simple outfit and make it downstairs into the lobby of the hotel, about to go peruse the nearby dining options, but right when you step out of the elevator, you run into Gojo.
There’s a look of pleasant surprise on his face and you take in his appearance. He was still wearing his soccer jersey, covered in grass and dirt stains, and his face was slightly flushed from exertion. You figured he just came back from the field.
“Hey,” he says, “sorry, I was just about to head over there.” He jerks his head off towards the lobby, and you glance in that direction. There was a group of maybe thirty people gathered around the lounging areas and high-tables over at the business suite, and you recognize them as UTokyo’s soccer players, along with Coach Yaga and other team staff. The players were still all clad in their uniforms, carrying all their stuff, and there were plays of today’s game rerunning across the TV screens. You realize they’re probably prepping for interview questions for tomorrow’s conference.
“Oh, please, go ahead,” you say to him.
He tilts his head at you. “Are you doing alright?” 
You were aware that things might feel awkward after last night, and that your cheeks would probably feel hot like they do now the next time you had to talk to him. Your mind takes you back to the memories, when you think about how badly you wanted him to stay with you in the room because of that hollow feeling in your chest from missing him, despite how you knew it was bad for you. Because this man standing in front of you doesn’t like you in the way that you like him. 
And then it clicks. The reason for that feeling of disappointment you’ve had since the moment you woke up today.
When you glance up at Gojo this time, you see him differently than you had from a second ago. You finally notice the slight dark circles under his eyes, and figure out that the reason he’s been tilting his neck to the side all day was because he was trying to stretch out a kink. You vaguely recall that moment you woke up in the middle of the night, and your sleepy brain registered that there was no longer the dip of him in the mattress next to you.
“When did you leave the room?” you ask him. You know your voice is quiet when he has to lean down a bit to hear you.
He takes his time answering, indulging in a few breaths. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” you say, starting to sound hostile, “you left during the night, didn’t you?”
He doesn’t deny it.
“You left once I fell asleep,” you say, eyes widening with realization.
He sighs. “Yes.”
“Where did you go to sleep?” you ask, trying to keep your tone level.
“Suguru’s room had an extra couch. I pushed them together.”
You felt sick and sad, feeling something worse than rejection right now. There was a part of you that still thought that all of this from him was just a joke. A prank. That he was finally going to say just kidding, I like you too. The reason you’ve been so disappointed since the minute you woke up today was because there was a part of you that thought you were going to wake up this morning with his arms wrapped around you, back pressed tight to his chest while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear of how much he likes you, of how much he wants you, of how much he wants to be with you.
“Why? Even after I said I didn’t want you to have bad sleep?” Your voice was laced with hurt. You didn’t even know how to explain to him why it upset you, because deep down you’re scared it isn’t even valid.
“It’s fine,” he says, “I played fine today. And we won.”
“You could’ve stayed. Do you really hate me that much?” Your words are shooting to kill now. “So I’m good enough to finger in a bathroom at a frat party, but not good enough to sleep next to?”
He furrows his brow. “I don’t understand why we’re arguing about this,” he says, tone starting to match yours, “you’re the one that wanted space. I was just trying to respect that.”
“If you really wanted to respect my space, you wouldn’t have agreed to share the bed with me in the first place.”
“y/n,” he says, “that’s not fair.”
“You should’ve known better.” You’re breathing fast, tone searingly accusive. “You know that I’m trying to get over you, and that I’m vulnerable, and that I’m probably confused about a lot of things right now.”
“I ask if we could at least be friends, you say no because it’d be some recipe for disaster, then you practically beg me to stay with you and tell me to touch you while we’re laying down together. You don’t think that’s confusing for me too?” he counters.
Your cheeks flush with embarrassment at the memory of your desperate actions last night, and he instantly looks apologetic. You feel like you’re being unfair, but you feel like he’s being unfair too.
“I’m the one with feelings,” is all you say in your defense.
He swipes at his chin roughly with the back of his hand, smudging the dirt up to his cheek, and then closes his eyes for a second, like the weight of today has finally hit him all at once. He looks exhausted. “Right,” he says, softly, “I’m sorry.”
“Yo, Satoru!” one of his teammates yells from the center of the lobby. “Coach needs you, man.”
He rubs a hand down his tired face then throws a haphazard glance over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a sec,” he calls out and then looks back at you. You can’t make eye contact with him, and just stare at the print on his jersey instead. “I’ll sleep in Suguru’s again tonight. The room is yours.”
There’s a lump in your throat and you feel like you’re about to cry. “Okay.”
He reaches into his shorts pocket and gives you a room card. “Here’s the spare. I don’t need to come grab my stuff for the night, so don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
He sounds like he wants to say more, and you see him take a small step towards you, hand reaching out for you, but this time Coach Yaga’s stern voice is calling out to him too. He sighs. “Good night.”
“Mhm. Thanks.”
He hesitates before he turns on his heel and you watch his back, with that signature #10 stretched across the fabric of his uniforn, as he jogs through the hotel lobby to his teammates.
The walk back to the hotel room is depressing, and you find yourself dragging your feet all the way there. Once you make your way inside, you look around at the room and see some of Gojo’s belongings scattered around, but it didn’t seem like there were any of his essentials. You look down at the spare key card in your hand–a promise from him that he won’t try to upset you anymore tonight–and that lump in your throat from earlier comes back. 
You hated fighting with him. You hated being away from him. Those feelings that you thought would go away just as fast as they came still sat so stubbornly within your heart, and it was becoming impossible to bear. 
You wonder if meeting him was all just some horrible, twisted mistake. 
Before you have time to dwell on that sad sentiment, your phone screen lights up with a message.
|| 7:52pm unknown number: kinda sucks you’re not here with us. was looking forward to showing you more of my camera
|| 7:53pm unknown number: this is kai by the way
The features of your face feel heavy as you look down at your phone screen. You don’t even notice your eyes are teary until you realize the blur of your vision makes it hard to see the letters as you type out a response.
You just wanted a distraction from all this pain.
|| 7:54pm you: can you send me the address? i wanna be there
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a/n. grrrr i love a one-bed trope so much grrrrrrrrr it's gonna do it for me every damn time lol. thanks a bunch for reading!! there's still so much that i've got planned for the series haha i think the second half is gonna be a lot crazier than the first. super excited to write it though. by the way! i'm starting a choso x reader zombie au series, if you'd like to read more about it and/or be added to the taglist, you can reply to this post here also if you want to be added to taglist in general, i'd recommend making sure your tags are on!! since i've noticed a lot of people have them off
➸ take me to chapter nine!
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taglist: @who-can-touch-my-boob @therealestpussyeater @lost-resonance @hojoslutoru @foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @bsdicinindirdim @tsukikourito @getitsatoru @slut-4-gojo @cactisjuice @kissofife @tiredflame132 @cliosunshine @ethereally-lyann @btszn @prince-wyiilder @semra4 @gojosimp26 @drthymby @ninitoru @bbyxxm @fvsm4x @sadmonke @zoinks1010 @bakuhoethotski @horisdope @sykostyles @aquaberrydolphin @colouringfrogssittinginleaves @ri-sa20 @purplehallow11 @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @bxddiebloss @chwesuh-imnida @mo0nforme @viware @still-fking-single @megumisthirdog @gintokhi @karvokr @cierocanteat @imjustaweirdnerd (hope i didn't miss anyone thank u all sm!!)
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theangelictarot · 2 months
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what makes you different from your future spouse's previous partners 🎥🫣📺🍿🛋️✨
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Welcome 2024, I took a long awaited break from readings while I could because life is speeding up for a lot of us!!! Things are happening and changing right before our eyes. Manifestations coming in. Cutting ties. ETC. We hit 500+ !!! I said I’d do something for hitting that mark and I meant it. I am going to give a FREE reading to one of my followers!
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Pile I:
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Right off the bat 🦇 I’m getting that you two could’ve went from enemies to lovers without even knowing it? Some type of rivalry against love being real and it being a facade to give people hope. However, you were willing to let loose and change your perspective even if it was for one night! Like the girl from “27 Dresses” in the image. You’re willing to try it THEIR way instead of being a plain jane. Seeing it through their eyes. Once you do you’ll see that it isn’t so bad! It’s just different and new. It is a huge change from your normal routine but you seem to handle challenges with ease. They may be a tornado of a person and you’re completely unphased and untouched by their outbursts. You “handle” them well. They enjoy this. You don’t make them choice, you allow them to have free will. Many times in the past others could’ve said “pick them or me” and it’s like between lifelong friendships and them… ONLY out of selfish reasons. That isn’t fair. You transform them into beauty. Beauty and the Beast. The fact that you enjoy being pursued, it makes them feel worthy. It’s what they were taught. They could be older than you. Following what they were taught. It’s rare to find someone like you in these different generational times. I’ll end with, your confidence! it’s a turn on, they aren’t used to having someone that’s confident with their looks. They’re usually always having to reassure their partner, not that they won’t still reassure you!!! If anything they’ll do it more freely due to you already being secure within yourself.
Pile II:
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The picture kinda speaks for itself if you’ve ever seen Clueless. Age-Gap. You could be older or younger than them. They’ve never dated outside of their range and i’m feeling like neither have you!!! It’s very interesting because both parties are content but it has come up a few times about how you two even crossed paths, given the differences. You’re younger, firm skin, silky smooth hair. It’s little details that they notice about you. They seriously OBSERVE you. Heavy. You look different than anyone they’re used to/tend to be around. Again, I don’t see that this person goes around actively looking for younger or older to date or pursue. It just happened for you two. You could be from pile I, thats for some of you. You could be in college or living at home. This is very different for them. They’ve never not lived with their partner in quite some time. It’s difficult to spend the day together THEN parting ways in the evening/night. They feel like they can overpower you (in a good way) being able to feel dominant with zero issues. Always a sense of balance throughout the connection. The chemistry is on FIRE 🔥 If you were to be in a room full of people, others would be able to feel/see the steaming coming from your guys bodies!! You’re very very passionate with them, especially in the bedroom. You teach them how to s l o w d o w n. Others may cause you two to go through OR will want you two to experience trails and tribulations within this connect because of how different it is. Many won’t approve but WHO. THE. FUCK. CARES?! If you’re happy, then be happy!!! How you handle yourself through all the turmoil!! Drives them w i l d.
Pile III:
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You aren’t as gullible! lol, they’re used to their partner going along with whatever they say or do/want them to do. Not you, you can sense bullshit from a mile away and it has them looking the same way he looks in the image. AHAHAH “How to lose a guy in 10 days” movie is significant. Your person!!! They discovered that they do like the idea of monogamous relationships. You could’ve been their first real relationship after a large period of time. You made them feel, feelings. They were instantly attracted to you, like magnets. They wanted to be glued to you. VERY out of the box for a player. You heal them, with others they were just getting it on ( ; to release but with you it’s not just sex or a one time thing like you both could’ve originally agreed on. They don’t have to hide themselves from you. You put up a good fight for whatever you want. Relationship and nonrelation related. Headstrong with compassion. Free spirited, you don’t need them for your happiness. You both choose each other. No trauma bonding. You’re a very attractive person! On top of that… they see the temptation that comes towards you. People may hit on you right in front of them! Which causes them to get jealous. TOTALLY out of their fortę. They’re the “insecure” one (usually their partners tend to be the insecure ones.) It’s hard for them to trust you due to these occurrences and their mind soaring. They feel as though you’re going to cheat on them and be unfaithful. Breaking their heart after opening up for the first time in like …. Ever. They didn’t want to tell you this because it took me hours to finish this simple reading but they’re scared to open up. You may not have even known this until now.
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anawritez-posts · 2 months
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𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞
summary: Your boyfriends mad you didn't invite him to a muggle party and he gets revenge.
masterlist | taglist
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The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the cluttered dorm room. Y/N stirred in her bed, her head pounding from the night before. The distant memory of a lively party and the taste of regret lingered in her mind. She groaned, reaching out for her phone to check the time.
As her eyes squinted against the brightness, Y/N noticed a notification from Theodore Nott. She opened it, revealing a series of Snap stories. The pictures and videos displayed a lively gathering, but what caught her off guard was a clip of her and Pansy singing along to "Friends" by Chase Atlantic. The realization hit her - Theo had found out about the party.
Just as she tried to piece together a plausible excuse, the door burst open. Theo stood in the doorway, disheveled and holding Draco's ukulele like a weapon.
"Good morning, sunshine," he announced with a cheeky grin, his phone playing the familiar tune in the background. "I thought I'd return the favor from last night."
Y/N winced at the volume and groaned, burying her head in her pillow. "Theo, what are you doing here?"
Ignoring her question, Theo continued to sing off-key, the ukulele adding a comically out-of-tune accompaniment. Y/N tossed and turned, trying to block out the noise, but Theo was determined to make his point.
"Come on, join in!" he encouraged, oblivious to the pain in her head.
As the song reached its climax, Y/N finally couldn't take it anymore. She kicked off the blankets and grabbed the ukulele from Theo's hands, tossing it onto the floor. "Alright, you made your point! Can you please stop?"
Theo's mischievous smile softened into a genuine one as he saw her discomfort. He laid down next to her, still grinning. "You know, amore, I'm not mad you went to the party. Just wish you'd invited me."
Y/N sighed, realizing the source of his frustration. "I'm sorry, Theo. I should've invited you. I just didn't think you'd want to come to a Muggle party."
He kissed her forehead. "Next time, just think of me, okay?"
She playfully nudged him. "Not gonna lie, I've got a new favorite song."
Theo chuckled and pulled her into a bear hug. "Well, at least you'll remember it every time you hear it. Now, let's get some more sleep. It's way too early for this." The two of them snuggled back into bed, the headache fading away as they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms.
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whatsk-poppinhomies · 3 months
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Pairing : Dad!Hwang Hyunjin x F!Reader TW : the child is already born, she's around a year and a half ; reader is extremely stressed ; angsty ; Word Count : 2.8k Request : I actually do think I have a request for angsty dad Hyunjin, plus it won the poll so... YES! A/N : I know that the other angsty dad ones kind of started with reader being pregnant, but I wanted to switch things up because I don't want to keep repeating the same storyline over and over again... Hope that's okay! Also, this was left on a verrrry open cliffhanger. And yes, there will definitely be a part 2!
It was hard being a mother. The pains of pregnancy, labor, and the healing process afterwards, it was just hard. You had signed up for it though, and it had been rewarding once you had been able to hold your little girl in your arms for the first time. Watching her grow into the adorable little infant that she was now, it made all the pain and hardships worth it. She was the greatest gift. 
It was a struggle though to be the mother to the daughter of a k-pop idol, especially when that idol had so proudly posted about her from the moment she was born. It wouldn’t have been a problem if he stuck around more, but with him having to work and never really being at home, it was a hassle even getting out of the house some days. You felt stuck, you felt trapped, and he just got to continue living his famous life as if nothing were going on at all. 
It was a slap in the face to see him get to live a life of luxury, going out to parties and being able to go out to eat with the guys. His life didn’t get put on hold, he got to continue living as if he didn’t have a daughter at home, as if you weren’t at home trying to hold everything together. You’d see him walk down red carpets with camera lights flashing in his face as he smiled and waved, all while you stayed home with your daughter on your hip as you tried to cook dinner for yourself and feed your daughter and make sure that the laundry was done. 
Maybe it wouldn’t bother you so much if he even took the time to call you when he had a break, but he didn’t even do that. It’s like you and your daughter didn’t exist when he was out, it truly felt that way, and it was heartbreaking. Hyunjin was the love of your life, he was the father of your child. When he and you first got together, you couldn’t imagine spending the rest of your life with anyone but him. He’d call you constantly, he’d send you pictures, he’d video call you, he’d do anything to make you feel like you were a part of his little world even though you couldn’t be there. When your daughter came along he kept up the act, at least for the first 5 months. It didn’t even gradually stop either, it was like you had hit a brick wall, he just stopped completely. You’d bring it up to him and he’d make excuses of being busy and not having the time to really call or text you. It was always the same thing over and over and over again. You dealt with it for 13 months now, almost an entire year of being ignored and being treated like nothing more than his baby’s mother, not the mother of his child. 
How long were you expected to put up with it? How long did he expect you to put up with it? When he came home it felt more like he was just doing a routine visitation for his daughter, it’s like you weren’t even together at this point. He’d wrap one arm around you, giving you a little side hug and kissing the top of your head before focusing maybe an hour of attention on your daughter (if she was lucky), before saying that he had to leave again. 
He was too famous for this life, and while most women would say that they were going to do their man a favor and leave, you knew that you had done enough favors for him. You were raising his daughter with no help. You kept his house clean, you were there for him if and when he needed you, you were everything that he could have ever wanted you to be… But he was nothing for you. He had simply become your daughter's father, and that was all. You were tired of doing it by yourself and thinking that maybe one day he’d come around. It was obvious that day would never come. It was time for you to do yourself a favor. If you were going to live the life of a single mother, you might as well be one. 
“Are you excited to go home and see Y/N and the baby?” Felix asked as he and Hyunjin made their way off the plane, dodging the grabbing hands of fans with the help of the security team that ushered them through the airport. Flashing lights blinded their peripheral vision, and they both stayed focused on the light of day on the other side of the exit door in front of them. 
“Of course I am!” Hyunjin exclaimed, his smile growing wider as he thought about finally being able to see you and his daughter again. “I miss them so much… I just feel like every time I do get to see them I have to leave immediately. I know it’s not fair… She’s doing it all by herself. She’s like… She’s like a super mom, you know?” He rambled adoringly about you, his eyes practically shooting hearts whenever he spoke about you or even thought about you. “Whenever I get time off from the group I have to do a promotion for something else and… I just feel like I’m missing everything. I feel like the worst dad… The worst boyfriend…” 
“I’m sure Y/N understands. I mean… You’ve been keeping in touch with her, right?” Felix asked, looking up at Hyunjin who looked far more shameful now as his head dropped. “You… You have been talking to her, haven’t you? I mean… We’ve been gone for almost a whole month… It’s not like you haven’t talked to her for a whole month… Right?!” Felixs voice raised an octave with each repetition of the question. 
“I’ve been busy and… I know that she gets busy too… And time zones are confusing so I don’t know when she gets the baby to sleep for naps or when she’s sleeping… I just… And I lose track of time and I’m just so busy…” Hyunjin tried to explain, but Felix was left slack jawed and shocked at the seeming lack of both responsibility and empathy for the fact that he hadn’t been in contact with you for an entire month. “Don’t look at me like that… I’m sure she’ll understand!” Hyunjin whined, climbing into the back seat of the car that was waiting for him and Felix. 
“Do you… Do you do this every time you’re gone? I mean… I’m not trying to get in the middle but… I just know that if I had a girlfriend and a child back at home when I’m out… I’d be on the phone constantly with her… Like… I don’t understand how you could just go an entire month without talking to your girlfriend or even checking up on her and your kid…” Felix ranted, not even trying to come down on Hyunjin, but that’s the way it felt. 
“Y/N is different… She doesn’t need constant attention. She understands that I’m busy, that I can’t be on the phone all the time, that I can’t always be home…” Hyunjin mumbled, running his hand through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh. “Look, I don’t want to be stressed out before I see her and the baby. Let’s just not talk about this, okay?” 
Felix rolled his eyes, but kept his mouth shut. Felix was more realistic, that, and the fact that he had met you multiple times. He knew how you were, and while it was obvious that you loved Hyunjin and you weren’t exactly clingy, he knew that you weren’t the type of person to just sit idly by waiting for Hyunjin to realize that he had more priorities than just being an idol and a spokesperson. Sadly, Hyunjin didn’t see that, and Felix feared that at some point it’ll be too late for his hyung… He just didn’t know how soon that time was. 
“Baby, I’m home!” Hyunjin called out as he walked through the front door. It was nice, it felt good to finally be home. There was a stillness in the air, and while it felt strange, there were still toys in the home that belonged to his daughter and nothing seemed out of place… At least not in the living area. You must have just gone out to the store or went to visit your friends or something. 
The kitchen was empty, there were no dishes in the sink, and while that wasn’t out of the norm in any way, the thin layer of dust that lined the counter tops was weird. It was like the kitchen hadn’t been used in a week or two, and now Hyunjin was beginning to panic as he set down his bag on the dusty countertop and made his way into the nursery. 
“Honey?” Hyunjin called out again, almost desperately now as he walked further into the room. The furniture was all still there, but much like the kitchen counter, it too had begun to form dust on the flat surfaces. Did something happen while he was away? It didn’t look that way, at least not in the apartment. Some things were missing though… The picture of the day that his daughter was born had been taken off the little dresser, and now that he was really focusing on everything, he could see that certain spaces in the closet were empty where clothes had once been hanging. 
He didn’t want to believe the thoughts that were going through his mind right now. He wanted to believe that there was another reason for the missing items, maybe they were just hanging in the shared closet in your bedroom. Maybe that’s where everything was. In the back of his mind he knew that he was wrong, but he just didn’t want to let go of that little thread of hope that he might be right, so he went to the bedroom and pushed open the door. 
The bed had been neatly made, and in the center of it sat a little note, one that he refused to read right now. Instead, he went straight to the closet, throwing it open to see that it had been emptied almost completely and the suitcases that had been stored off to the side were now gone. It was obvious what was going on, and while he didn’t want to read the note because he was sure that it would only validate what he knew to be true, he felt like he had to read it. 
With wobbly legs and tear filled eyes, he made his way over to the bed and shakily picked up the note. He could barely even make out the words through his tears, but he tried to, his voice raspy as he whispered out the words that were neatly written on the paper. 
“Hyunjin, 
I love you, I truly do.. Or, I did. I don’t know how I feel now. Well, I know how I FEEL in general… Empty, stressed, lonely, depressed… I just don’t know how I feel about YOU. I used to think about you and I’d get butterflies and I felt fuzzy and warm and I KNEW that that meant I loved you… Now when I think about you, I can only feel anger… And the only reason that I THINK I even feel a LITTLE bit of love towards you is because you ARE the father of my child and she is beginning to look like you, and maybe it’s because of that and because I love HER so much that I feel even an inkling of love for you. 
Either way, I can’t keep living like this. I’m alone in this house, YOUR house that was supposed to be OUR home for OUR family… But everything has fallen on me. While you get to go out and have fun with all your famous friends and go to all your famous people parties, I’m stuck at home being a mother to OUR child, and being a maid in YOUR house. I have been doing EVERYTHING on my own, I have become a single mother while still dealing with the inconvenience of having YOUR child because I can’t even take her out into the world without being bombarded by YOUR fans and you’re not even here to help. 
I have supported you, I have loved you, I gave you a child… And all I wanted was just a little bit of support from you, I wanted to feel loved by you… But after 13 MONTHS of being left alone with only short visits from you when you find the time to come see us… I’ve come to realize that you’re unable to love anyone BUT yourself. I’d say that I’m tired of fighting for myself and our daughter to be a priority to you, but you’re not even around long enough for me to try to fight for that spot. 
Your life is far too busy, and while I understand your line of work, I’ll never understand why you’d give me this false sense of hope that I and our daughter would ever be important to you. I don’t know why you’d even take the risk of getting me pregnant, and while I love our daughter with my entire heart and every ounce of my being, I cannot for the life of me understand why you’d want to have a child and pretend to be excited when you KNEW you’d never be around for her OR me. 
So, I’m done… I’ve gone home to be with my family and I’ve taken the baby with me. Of course, I won’t keep her from you, although you’ve kept yourself from her for a majority of her life. I don’t think it’ll make much of a difference that I’m in America now considering you only really come to visit us once a month for an hour, so it really won’t be much different from how it was before. I guess you’ll be able to visit her when you’re doing one of your many tours that kept you away from us in general. 
There is a time difference, so, when you do get this note, keep in mind that myself and the baby and the rest of my family might be sleeping if you decide to text or call me… Which in itself would be ironic considering you didn’t even do that when we were together. 
Anyway, that’s all. Thank you for giving me a beautiful baby girl, and thank you for the two and a half years of happiness that you did give me… But, I can’t keep living like this. Goodbye.”
Just like that, you were gone… Not just you, but his daughter as well. You both were gone, and it wasn’t as easy as going down the street or something to talk to you… You had gone all the way to America to be with your family… And it would be almost impossible for him to get cleared by management to just hop on the next plane to go see you and talk to you. He wanted to call you, he wanted to beg you to come back home, to bring the baby back home… But even if the time difference wasn’t a factor in him not calling you right now, your emotions and everything that you were feeling had been written out for him in black and white. 
He didn’t know the first thing that he’d say to you when he called you, and he knew that he couldn’t just beg… And while he understood what you had said in the note, he never thought that you’d feel that way. He had assumed that he was doing the right thing… But he wasn’t… And now you and his daughter, his family, you were both gone, on the opposite side of the world, in a different time zone… He could do nothing… 
And now that he had the time and the unbearable silence to really think, to let his thoughts go wild… Not being able to do anything right now is no different than what was done before. He had gone entire months without talking to or seeing you and his daughter when he was on the other side of the world… He had no problem with it before. Now it was you who was gone, and you weren’t messaging him… The only difference is that he didn’t know if you were coming back, and right now… It felt like you never were. 
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darknight3904 · 17 days
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Through the Years
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ᴀ ɢʟɪᴍᴘꜱᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴀᴛᴏʀᴜ ɢᴏᴊᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ.
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴄᴜʀꜱɪɴɢ. ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ/ᴋɪʟʟɪɴɢ. ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪʀɢɪɴɪᴛʏ (ɴᴏ ꜱᴇx) ɴᴀᴏʏᴀ ᴢᴇɴɪɴ (ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ɢʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ)
ɪ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ ɪɴ ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ. ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ɴᴏᴠᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ʙᴀʙʏ. ɢᴏᴊᴏ x ᴢᴇɴɪɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: ᴏᴠᴇʀ 5ᴋ (ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍʏ ʙʟᴜᴇ ᴇʏᴇᴅ ᴋɪɴɢ)
ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
December 7, 2005 (Gojo: 16 You: 15)
"You know you're practically a senior citizen now."
Gojo's head whips around, insulted at the idea of being called old. Sure he's got white hair but he's just turned 16, not 61.
"You're only a year younger than me, y'know. You'll be 16 soon too." He grins
Gojo grins as you roll your eyes next to him.
"At least I don't have white hair already." You point out
"Whatever, at least I'm not two inches tall." Gojo laughs, resting an elbow on your head.
"I'm still growing!" You defend, angry at the idea of staying the same height forever. "Get your ugly arm off me!"
"I'll have you know my arm is gorgeous," Gojo says, blue eyes catching the sunlight as he easily matches your pace.
"Mmhmm." You roll your eyes
To keep it simple, Satoru Gojo got under your skin. Perhaps it was that annoying smile or maybe the fact that your clan notoriously hated his. All you knew was that he drove you insane and you wished he'd just disappear so he could never bother you again.
"Where is everyone? I thought we agreed to meet here at 4," Gojo whined next to you.
"Worried your boyfriend stood you up?" You tease. thinking of the dark-haired boy who was usually joined to Gojo's hip most days.
"Suguru would never do that to me." Gojo smiles, unwrapping a lollipop he had stuffed in his pocket.
"I dunno, what if he finally got sick of you, Gojo?" You say, knowing it was impossible.
A soft ding interrupts your conversation with the boy and Gojo fishes his phone out of his pocket.
"HA! Told you he'd never stand me up!"
Gojo's phone is obnoxiously close to your face as he prompts you to read his chat with Geto.
On our way. Nanami needed to be convinced.
Another ding sounds and a picture of your fellow first years pops up Haibara is dragging Nanami down the sidewalk by his arms.
"Idiots." You murmur
"I see that smile! You got a crush on Nanamin?" Gojo's voice fills your ears as his pointer finger pokes at your face
"Piss off, Gojo." You groan "I hope one of Geto's curses eat you."
April 2006 (Gojo: 16 You: 15)
"You totally just cheated!" You accuse the blonde across from you
"Have you considered that you're just terrible at Jenga?" Nanami asked
"Have you considered that you just moved the table during my turn so you'd win and not me!" You groan
"It's just Jenga, Zenin. We can just start over." Haibara points out
"Not with a cheater playing." You roll your eyes
Haibara smiles as he begins to pick up the fallen blocks from the floor. You had been on edge for a few days now and your temper was beginning to get a bit out of hand. He had asked Nanami what he thought was the matter and the two of them had come to the conclusion that it had to do with your visit with the head of the Zenin clan.
"That's enough for today. I'm going to take a nap." Nanami declares
"Ugh, what a party pooper." Haibara teases, elbowing you.
"In case you forgot, Zenin here did me the favor of hitting me hard enough that I nearly passed out today in training." Nanami reminds the two of you.
Ah right, that. You had gone a bit too hard today sparring with Nanami.
"Oh, I forgot about that," Haibara says
"Yes. You should let Zenin get some rest. Her technique is draining, she's said so herself.
Sure, Phantom wasn't exactly easy to pull off but you wanted to keep playing. You wanted to kick Nanami's ass in Jenga.
"Alright. Let's eat dinner together tonight though. I have these awesome cookies in my room you'll both like." Haibara declares before following Nanami out of your room.
Perhaps Nanami was correct, a nap did sound enjoyable right now. A quick nap and then maybe you'd cook something to share with the boys tonight. Perhaps a couple of rice balls or maybe some chicken.
No sooner had you gotten comfortable under your blankets that your door swung open and Gojo was running into your room, Geto close on his heels.
"Satoru, you should always knock on a girl's door before barging in." Geto scolds his friend for you.
"It's fine, Suguru. It's not like she's getting changed or anything." Gojo grins looking down at you who had remained buried under your covers.
"And what if I was?" You scowl from your blankets
"I would've screamed in horror and asked Suguru to exorcise you." Gojo says flashing that oddly charming smile of his.
You're sure he could get away with murder if he just flashed those pearly whites.
You ignore the flutter of butterflies in your stomach as you sit up.
"I was about to take a nap but I guess it can wait." You say
"A nap? What are you four?" Gojo teases
"Yeah probably." You agree
"Not everyone is as energetic as you are Satoru." Geto reminded the white haired boy
"Yeah, what Geto said. Not everyone is a walking ball of energy." You say
Geto had always been your favorite of Jujutsu High's strongest duo. He didn't call you short or try to steal your food. Or maybe it was his long hair that seemed to always look better than yours.
Plus then there was that time Gojo snuck into your room to try and shave your eyebrows off. Sometimes you swore the elders of the Gojo clan were sending the six eyes user after you on purpose.
"Whatever, loser." Gojo said trying to reach and mess up your hair.
"Would you stop that! I'm not a child!" You groan
"Then why're you the size of one?" Gojo laughs
Even Geto laughed at that one as you shove Gojo out of the way.
"Why are you two even here? Can't you go bother Shoko for once?" You ask
"Shoko said you've been in a bad mood the past few days." Geto started
"So we've come to cheer you up!" Gojo finished
You watched wide-eyed as Gojo dumped the bag he was holding onto your bed. Every possible sweet fell out accompanied by different DVDs.
"For the record, I told him it was too much candy but he didn't listen," Geto says as Gojo riffles through the movie choices.
One DVD case catches your eye as Gojo argues with Geto about his sugar choices.
"Are you a Rachel McAdams fan, Gojo?" You ask as you hold up Mean Girls.
"Duh." Gojo grins before swiping the case from your hand to pop it into the player you had
"Raise your hand if you have ever been personally victimized by Regina George."
"Y'know you're kinda like Regina, Satoru," Geto says observing the movie.
"Am not." Gojo rolls his eyes sipping at his soda
"Sure you are." Geto smiles
"Yeah right." Gojo scoffs "Whaddaya think, Zenin?"
Gojo looked at you for an answer but was met with you asleep next to him, head resting on one of those massive stuffed animals you kept. You're drooling a bit and he can't help but think that you're a bit cute like this.
He reaches to shake you awake, determined to get your opinion on whether or not he is like a spoiled teenage girl.
"Let her rest. I heard that her and the other first years went pretty hard today training. Nanami took a big blow to the head from her using her technique." Geto stopped his best friend
"I wish she'd show me her technique. She explained it to me once but I still don't get it." Gojo huffed
"I'm pretty sure Phantom just multiplies her and then she closes the distance with her real body. I watched her use it on Haibara a few months ago." Geto explains
"Whatever...I still want to see it with my own eyes." Gojo declared
The TV hummed softly as they sat in silence while Regina George got hit by a bus after rushing out of her school.
"Why do you think she's been in such a bad mood recently? I heard her yelling about Jenga earlier." Geto asked
"I'm not entirely sure but I think it probably has to do with Nabito Zenin." Gojo said "His archaic way of doing things is probably upsetting her. I heard that she had some meeting with him recently."
Geto lets out a soft hum of acknowledgment.
"Nabito is probably trying to stick her in some arranged marriage. I wouldn't be surprised if it was with his own brat, Naoya." Gojo elaborates
"You know a lot about the Zenin Clan, Satoru," Geto points out
"Well the last Six Eyes and Infinity user was killed by one of them, so I think I'm entitled to a little knowledge. " Gojo defends
"Yeah, yeah. Maybe you should try to be a little nicer to her though, especially if you know what might be going on with her clan." Geto suggests
"I'm perfectly nice." He defends
"Yesterday you said you were going to shave her head in her sleep because she ate one of your french fries."
"I was joking!"
November 2006 (Gojo: 16 You: 16)
"Happy Birthday, Zenin!" Haibara called "Have fun with your family!"
You smiled and waved at Haibara and Nanami as you got into the car that had been sent to pick you up.
Fun. This trip would be anything but fun.
Snow was falling as you entered your childhood home. The soft scent of lavender filled your nose and calmed your nerves.
"You're back! I'm still cooking!" Your mother exclaimed as she emerged from the kitchen
"Yeah, there wasn't much traffic." You reply, trying to release yourself from her bone-crushing hug. Seriously with her strength, she'd probably be able to exercise curses.
"Go wash up. Your father will be back soon and he is bringing Nabito-san and his son." Your mother says
Dinner is quiet. Or rather you're quiet next to your mother while Nabito and your father discuss something about cursed techniques and something about Toji Zenin's kid.
"Your face is plain." the boy across from you suddenly says
Your mother momentarily freezes but quickly regains her composure.
"Yes well, sometimes plain features are best. Just think you wouldn't want every man looking at your wife." Your mother says
Did she just agree to you being plain featured? You looked like her for crying out loud!
"Whatever," Naoya mumbled before shoving more rice into his mouth.
What a pig.
You're not entirely sure why it's happening. Perhaps it was the dinner with Naoya that had your brain going crazy. But ever since you got back from your parents' home you can't stop staring at Gojo. Was it because he represented everything your clan hated? Or maybe it was because he was insufferably annoying? Whatever the reason, you swore he was drawing you in.
"You should stop staring. You might put a hole in his head." Shoko says
"I wasn't-"
"Don't lie to me." Shoko smiles knowingly
You definitely weren't staring at Satoru Gojo. Nope. Not in a million years. And you definitely didn't get butterflies whenever he looked your way. That would be ridiculously, ridiculous.
August 2007 (Gojo: 17 You: 16)
"I don't get why I wasn't assigned with you two. I mean we're always going on missions together." You grumble
"They probably need you to help Gojo train more. Your technique is perfect for him to strengthen his Six Eyes, Zenin." Haibara points out
"It's just a grade two. We'll be back before sundown." Nanami assures
"Yeah, then we can watch a movie and get fat off popcorn," Haibara says
"I'm choosing tonight. I don't want to watch another Pirates of the Caribbean movie." Nanami declares
"But Jack Sparrow is so sexy!" You groan
Haibara laughs in agreement with you.
"See you later, Zenin! I can't wait to bully Nanami into watching Pirates of the Caribbean with you tonight!" Haibara declares
See you later, Zenin!
See you later.
You should've gotten into that damn car with them. Your technique was better than both of theirs. Maybe if you had...just maybe you wouldn't be staring down at half of your friend.
Geto was next to you, looking down at his body, He was silent, long hair blocking his face from you.
Nanami sat behind you, a damp cloth over his eyes.
"You need to rest for now, Nanami," Geto suggests, his soft voice filling the silence.
"Damn it. I should've gone with you two." You say, your voice dripping in regret.
"You could've gotten killed too, Zenin." Nanami sighs, his voice is tight like he's holding back tears.
A soft summer breeze blows through your hair as you sit on a bench. You had left Geto and Nanami with Haibara, not wanting to see the bloody sheet he was under anymore.
"Hey."
You glance up from where you had been picking at your nails, willing yourself to hold it together.
Gojo stood over you, hand stretched out with a piece of candy in it.
"I heard what happened." He said sitting next to you as you unwrapped the candy and popped it in your mouth.
"You wanna talk about it?" Gojo asked
"Not really." You sighed
"You don't seem too sad," Gojo said quietly
"I think I will be...later on. Once I'm alone." You say
"Yeah, me too." He replied.
Silence enveloped the two of you as you focused on the taste of the candy in your mouth.
"I gave you the green apple. It's my least favorite." Gojo said
"Thanks." You reply
September 2007 (Gojo: 17 You: 16)
In accordance with Jujutsu regulations, Geto Suguru is sentenced to death.
For once in his life Gojo Satoru is not buzzing around you like an excited puppy. You can see him, sitting alone on the steps of Jujutsu High.
The deaths of 112 people including his own parents rests on Geto's hands. You couldn't believe it when Nanami read the report to you. But now, seeing Gojo alone confirmed it.
You don't know what you're going to say to Gojo as you approach him. What do you say to the person who's just lost their best friend to a life of being a curse user?
"I know you're lurking back there," Gojo says
Damn it.
"I wanted to give you this." You mumble tossing him a lollipop before sitting next to him, probably a bit too close for someone who swore you weren't interested in him.
Gojo softly smiles and accepts the candy.
"Did he say what he wants to do next?" You ask
"He wants to exterminate all non-sorcerers from the world," Gojo says
An unattainable goal.
"That's impossible." You say
"That won't stop him." Gojo points out
A soft weight taps you and the sweet scent of Satoru Gojo's shampoo fills your nose as he rests his head on your shoulder.
"I'm sure you'll see him again. Even if it's not for a long time, you'll talk to each other again." You assure him.
"Yeah, I hope so," Gojo admits
His voice is a whisper in the breeze, a prayer for the future.
Christmas 2009 (Gojo: 20 You: 19)
"You have to stay quiet, Gojo!" You groan looking at your friend next to you
"This costume is so itchy though! The beard is gonna make my skin all red!" He whines
"Suck it up." You command
Gojo lets out another groan but helps you finish arranging the copious amounts of gifts he had ended up buying for Megumi and Tsumiki.
"Alright, it's perfect. Now go stand next to the tree."
Gojo listens to you and lets out a huff of embarrassment when you snap his picture.
"That better be for your eyes only." He says
"Oh definitely don't worry about it." You brush him off before quickly sending the picture off to Nanami and Shoko. They're sure to get a kick out of it.
"Remind me why I asked you to help with these brats again," Gojo says as he notices you sending his picture.
"Cuz' these brats would be dead if you were the only one watching them, Gojo." You say
"I'm a great caregiver." He says
"You wanted to get Megumi a pink tutu for Christmas." You say
"He would've looked great!" Gojo defends
"He would've set his Demon Dogs after you." You say
"Would not."
"Would too."
"Would not!'
"Would too!"
"What's going on?"
You and Gojo stop your bickering to see sleepy-eyed children hovering on the steps, dark hair out of place and a frizzy mess atop their little heads.
"Santa and I were just arguing about what cookie is best!" You grin
"That's not Santa. That's Gojo in that costume you ordered off Amazon last week." Megumi points out. "I saw the order details on your laptop."
Who the hell does this kid think he is?
"What? No! This is the real Santa from the North Pole!" You scramble
"Megumi, just go with it!" Tsumiki whispers to her little brother, "They obviously don't know Santa's not real!"
Is it a crime to toss a child out a window?
"The jig is up!" Gojo declares beside you as he rips off his fake beard. "Now let's get to the real fun stuff! Mistletoe!"
Gojo grabs a sprig of mistletoe from between the couch cushions. Curse him and his hiding spots.
"Pucker up, hot stuff!" Gojo says as he reaches for you and wraps an arm around your waist to pull you close.
"Gross." You say pushing his face away from you, you hope he can't see how red you are.
Why the hell was he like this? The past few months Gojo had been all over you. Be it flirty gestures or just plain Gojo weirdness, he was consuming every bit of you and you weren't sure if it was a bad thing.
"You're blushing," Megumi says
"Aha! I knew you wanted a kiss from me!" Gojo exclaims chasing after you as you try to escape up the stairs.
Seriously, is it a crime to toss a kid out a window?
March 2011 (Gojo: 21 You: 20)
The harsh slam of the front door wakes Gojo from the peace that had taken over the house. Megumi and Tsumiki had gone to bed and he was kicked back on the sofa, face mask on and Harry Potter was running on TV.
"I'm going to seriously kill that asshole one day." You groan as you rummage through the fridge
"I take it the meeting with Naoya didn't go well," Gojo said
"Didn't go well is the understatement of the millennium." You groan sitting down next to him a slice of cold pizza in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.
"Tell me about it," Gojo says pulling your feet into his lap.
He listens to you vent about your "fiance" and how annoying he is. Naoya wants you to cut your hair a certain way and to stop wearing the color red. Apparently, you also need to start wearing lipstick now according to the man as well.
"Honestly I hope he gets hit by a bus tomorrow." You groan "And what the hell is wrong with my hair?"
"Nothing. I think it suits you nicely." Gojo smiles, knowing it's true. You're as pretty as a picture even when you're mad at the world.
"Thanks." You sigh "That wasn't the worst of it though"
"Oh? What else did the scumbag say this time?" Gojo asked, genuinely curious
"Well beyond my appearance, he asked if I was still a virgin today." You say
"Are you?"
"Ow!" Gojo yelps as he rubs his arm where you punched him
"Yeah, I am you idiot!" You seethe, placing your wine and half-eaten pizza on the coffee table, "He's only asking cuz' he found out that I'm spending time around you and I guess he's worried about impurity."
"We're just friends," Gojo says "Besides who cares if a girl's slept with someone before? I know I wouldn't."
His words feel like glue in his mouth. Can you tell he wants to be more than friends?
"I know that, and you know that. But he must think I'm whoring myself out to you in exchange for a place to live." You say sadly
Gojo can sense that Naoya's words are under your skin and bouncing around in that pretty head of yours. A head that should only be filled with the happiest of thoughts, preferably ones with him in it.
"Hey, forget about him. It's none of his business what company you keep and what you look like." He assures, reaching his arms out to pull you into his side.
"He's technically my fiance y'know." You sigh as you let him reposition your body so your head rests on his chest. "I'm supposed to want to please him since he's a man."
There's that stupid Zenin clan mindset, that Gojo can't stand.
"Screw that! Pleasing someone just cuz they're a guy is so 200 years ago." He says
"Tell me about it." You groan
"I could just send a hollow purple his way if you want." Gojo suggests, fully serious "Just a small one. It would be the perfect way to get rid of him."
"And what? Start a full-on war between two ancient clans over me?" You laugh
"Of course," Gojo confirms, pulling you closer to him
To him, you're worth starting a thousand wars if it means you'll finally let him be by your side all the time.
"By the way, is that a charcoal mask?" You ask
"Yup. Got it from the mall today, gotta stay hot for the single ladies out there."
"Gojo?"
"Yeah?"
"You're a really weird guy."
December 2011 (Gojo: 22 You: 21)
"We have to stay quiet, 'gumi." The girl reminds her little brother
"What's the point? How do we even know they'll like this?" He asked
"Who wouldn't enjoy breakfast in bed?" Tsumiki asked
She had a point.
"Yeah, but Gojo and Zenin don't even sleep in the same room. So are we surprising them separately?" Megumi asked as he poured orange juice into cups, he didn't think he had the balance to make it up the stairs with a tray of food.
"Nope! I checked Gojo's room before I woke you up. They're in his room together. I think she had a nightmare or something last night." Tsumiki says, "And we're not supposed to call her Zenin, remember? She said we could just use her first name."
"Oh, right," Megumi says
The couple? No, friends? Whatever they were, the two individuals that had taken him and his sister in were odd. Megumi was sure that Gojo was insane or maybe missing a piece of his brain. Just the other day Gojo had dangled him out the window for asking why he owned pink underwear as a 22-year-old. It was a genuine question on Megumi's part. As for you, you were definitely his favorite. You didn't try to dangle him out windows or mess up his hair, and most importantly you didn't constantly ask about his cursed technique.
Gojo was definitely the more annoying out of the two of you. How you put up with him was a mystery to Megumi. Tsumiki had once said that there was a "budding romance" between Gojo and You. Megumi thought she was reading too many of those romance books you bought her. Of course, he understood why she was saying that. You and Gojo were clearly close to each other, not to mention sometimes you even slept in each other's bedrooms. And then of course there's the many times when you're cooking and Gojo would wrap his arms around you from behind.
Alright, fine maybe Tsumiki was right about the romance.
"Alright, they're done. What do you think?" Tsumiki asks as she places two plates of something on the tray that sits in front of him.
"What are they?" He asks
"They're pancakes." Tsumiki blinked at Megumi as though it was obvious
"Right, of course." Megumi didn't want to make her angry, after all the last time they got in a fight Tsumiki pulled his hair so hard he swore he was partly bald in that spot for months.
"Ok lets go. You get the silverware and the drinks." She says
Gojo's bedroom is so dark, that Megumi nearly trips on his own feet as he blindly follows his sister.
Tsumiki carefully set the tray of food on the desk that was covered in various papers and candy wrappers. Why was Gojo such a slob? Tsumiki pulls the curtains open so the morning light can invade the space.
Megumi carefully observes the pair in bed. Gojo's arm is wrapped securely around you and your head rests on his chest. Megumi finds himself wondering if his father and mother were ever like this. Not that it matters since he can't even remember either of them.
"Surprise!" Tsumiki shouts and Gojo's eyes fly open
"Whaaats going on?" You ask groggily
"We made breakfast!" Tsumiki smiles placing the tray in front of the two adults.
"I have orange juice." Megumi mumbles
"Oh wow!" You smile, rubbing at your eyes, and immediately sit up.
"What is it?" Gojo asks, white hair messier than usual.
Megumi knew it wasn't obvious that they were pancakes.
"Pancakes of course!" You smile at them and Megumi doesn't miss how you pinch Gojo and whisper "be nice" to the white-haired man.
"They have blueberries in them," Megumi says
Gojo's face falls at the idea of a breakfast lacking sugar.
"And chocolate chips." Tsumiki chimes in
Gojo's face is all smiles again as he cuts into the food.
"How is it?" His sister eagerly asks
"It's wonderful. Delicious. Thank you, Tsumiki and Megumi." You compliment
A wide smile breaks out across his sister's face and she grabs Megumi by the arm.
"Alright, we'll let you two eat in peace then." She smiles, practically skipping out of the room.
Just before Megumi closes the door, hushed voices reach his ears.
"Can I spit this out now? I don't think it's edible." Gojo asks
"I think mine has some eggshell in it." You reply
Hushed laughter follows and Megumi smiles to himself. Sure, the two of you were crazy but he wouldn't trade it for the world.
February 2012 (Gojo: 22 You: 21)
Gojo was sure he was actually insane. What the hell was he thinking buying this for you?
The ruby red box felt like a lead weight in his pocket as he approached you while you were slicing vegetables for tonight's supper. Maybe he shouldn't do this while you had a knife in your hand. What if you stabbed him? Well, his infinity would catch it, but still.
"Can I uh...talk to you?" He asked, well...no going back now
"Yeah, what's up?" You ask
"Can I talk to you without the knife in your hand?" He asks
"Satoru Gojo what did you do?" You accuse, immediately focusing on you
"Nothing! Why do you assume I did something?!" He cries
"Because the last time you started a sentence with "without the knife in your hand" You had encouraged Megumi to fight his school bully and then you got a call that Megumi punched a girl two years younger than him." You say
Oh right. He forgot about that.
"Alright well, no children were harmed this time. Now put the knife down." He said
You listen and he takes a big breath, he's going to need all the oxygen for this one.
"Look it might be stupid and I know Valentine's Day was last week but I got you something and I wanted to give it to you. I've actually had it since December but I keep chickening out" He explained fishing the box out of his pocket
"If that's an engagement ring I'll get the knife back out." You say eying him suspiciously.
"What? No! That would be crazy." Gojo laughs, he can feel his face burning. Fuck...he must be bright red.
"Alright good." You say taking the box
Gojo fidgets with the string that's sticking out of the sleeve of his shirt as you look at what he's done.
"Do you uh like it?" He asked
"I do. Why'd you get it for me?" You ask
Wasn't it obvious? He'd buy the whole universe for you if he could.
"You really don't have any idea?" He asks
"No...I don't." You say
Your face is relaxed, you're definitely not lying to him. You seriously have no idea that he's totally obsessed with you!
"Are you gonna say it? I still have to cut some carrots up." You sigh
Gojo lets out a noise that's so insane sounding he swears he got possessed by some evil spirit.
"I got it cuz' I thought it'd look great on you!" The words are coming out of his mouth like vomit, " And I really uh...uhm...I like you."
The last bit is so quiet he's sure you didn't hear it.
"Wow did I just get a shoujo romance confession from the Satoru Gojo himself?" You tease as his gaze remains fixed on his feet.
"Whatever. If you don't want it I'll take it back tomorrow." He grumbled
Silence falls over the two of you like a blanket and Gojo wishes he could bury himself alive. Of course, she's making fun of you! She's engaged! She's been engaged since she was 15! One necklace won't change that! Sure, her fiance was a total buttwipe but still...
"Satoru,"
His first name coming from your lips for the first time ever has his gaze snapping back up. He wishes that you'd say his name like that forever.
"I'm only teasing you. I like you too. I have for a while." You admit
"How long is a while?" He prods, suddenly filled with confidence
"None of your business, mister. Are you going to help me put this on?" You gesture to the box
Gojo is as gentle as he can be as he clips the necklace behind your neck.
"How do I look?" You ask
"Perfect." He smiles and pulls you towards him.
"I smell, Satoru. I haven't gotten to shower yet and I exrocsied a curse at a school earlier." You softly say
"Mmm, you smell good to me." Gojo says "You're always absolutely perfect. And now you're all mine."
An elated giggle leaves his body as he finally gets to kiss you for the first time. If only his 17-year-old self could see him now.
"That's disgusting."
You jump away from him and he wishes you hadn't.
"Megumi, how was school?" You ask and Gojo doesn't miss the way you're obviously flustered.
"It was good. Until I came home to see that." He says
"Well get used to it cuz' you'll be seeing a lot more of it." Gojo grins as he pulls you towards him and tosses an arm around your shoulders.
"She's all mine now, little man. You're not allowed to give her a Valentine's Day card ever again!"
"Satoru, stop that!"
"So are you two finally dating?" Tsumiki asked hopefully
"Course' we are. You don't come home to two people sucking face and expect them not to be officially a couple."
Gojo deserves the punch to the stomach you give him before resuming your vegetable cutting.
Next Part
Series Masterlist / My Masterlist
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linopls · 6 months
Text
kinktober day twelve
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somnophilia jisung x gn!reader warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (male receiving), somno (obvi) 1.0k words
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jisung came home late quite often. it was just something you got used to after a while. when he suggested moving in together, you were thrilled but you shortly learned that there wasn’t really a difference in the time you got to spend with him. 
he’s a great boyfriend, you could never complain. he always tried to make extra time for you, would text you throughout the whole day, and when you did have time together he made it last forever. you just wish he didn’t come home so late everyday, some time to talk about your days before falling asleep was all you wanted. 
you loved when his group took breaks, that meant every day when you came home from work he would be there to talk about your day. you would get the amazing feeling of falling asleep in his arms. 
this one particular friday night, the tables were turned. you had got of work late, preparing for a week of meetings caused you to lose track of time and not leave the office until the sun came down. this time when you arrived home, it was jisung who had fallen asleep waiting for you to arrive home. 
as you were removing your shoes by the front door, you heard soft moans coming from your shared bedroom. it wasn’t unusual, with both of your busy schedules it was hard to schedule times to have sex. this meant the two of you would indulge in some explicit alone time. usually to keep the other involved, texts, pictures, and videos were sent to the other party. 
you checked your phone for any missed texts or calls and you saw nothing. it was a little weird of jisung to forget to text you about it. you probably got a text every other day from the boy stating, thinking of you with my cock in my hand. how romantic?
you walked over to your shared room and saw jisung’s large shoulders peeking over the duvet and him facing the opposing wall. you removed your blazer, shirt, and pants before crawling onto the bed and placing a hand on your boyfriend. 
he didn’t budge.
you climb out of the bed and to his side of the room, to your surprise he’s out like a light. it was very easy to tell when jisung was sleeping. he had a habit of opening his mouth just a tad, some mornings you would walk up to a puddle of drool on your chest. some found it gross, you found it endearing. 
you hear another soft moan come from the sleeping boy and he readjusts his body. the way he moves causes the blanket to slip and reveals his almost naked body. he’s wearing only a pair of boxers, which are sporting a very obvious tent. 
“oh,” you whisper. in that moment, you realize why you hadn’t got a text from the boy, because he’s fast asleep. 
you two have had a very experimental sex life, both down to try anything for each other. jisung had once woken you up by pleasuring you before, months ago, and you never returned the favor. 
you kneel down in front of his painfully obvious erection and ever so gently and slowly, you pull down the boxers to free his issue from its confines. you waste no time teasing him, there’s no point as he’s now leaking onto the bed sheets. 
you lick one long stripe on the bottom, to you but the side for him, and wrap your lips around the tip. you run your tongue over the dripping slit and jisung’s unconscious body forms goosebumps on his soft skin. you hear one of his soft moans again as you release the tip from your mouth with a soft pop. 
you use one hand to wrap around the base of his cock and the other to fondle at his aching balls. your sleeping lover releases a whimper at the feeling and the sound could make your head spin. you slowly take jisung all the way your mouth allows and suck in your cheeks. 
“y/n,” jisung moans quietly. 
you pull back to see if you’ve woken him and find him still snoozing away. the idea of him dreaming about you in the way he is sends a wave of arousal through your body. knowing that he’s been dreaming about you this whole time makes you dizzy.
you wrap your lips around his head again and take him fully in your mouth again. his tip hits the back of your throat and jisung moans louder this time, you look up to his face and see his eyes starting to peek open. you quicken your efforts, spit falling from your mouth onto the bed below and tears starting to form in your eyes.
you feel jisung’s hand lazily grab onto your head as he groans. 
“fuck, y/n.”
you look to your side and see that jisung’s eyes are wide open, displaying awe, confusion, amazement, and lust all in one. you flutter your eyelashes and he smiles.
“i was dreaming about you,” he purrs, interlocking his fingers in your hair.
“mhm,” you respond, lips still wrapped around his cock.
you lick your tongue around his head, running the muscle over the slit. jisung whimpers and tightens his grip on your hair.
“y/n, i’m gonna cum,” jisung groans, thrusting his hips up slowly into your mouth.
you fully engulf his cock into your mouth again, forcing yourself to take in fully. when your nose touches his skin, you fill him twitch in your mouth and he pulls your mouth of him. jisung takes his own cock in his fist, jerking it until he paints his release all over your face. he takes one of his fingers and gathers some of his cum and holds his finger to your mouth. you eagerly take his finger in your mouth, licking the digit clean. 
jisung pulls his finger from your mouth and rolls over onto his back. “come up here and sit on my face please,” he says, motioning with his saliva-covered finger.
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i apologize for this being late!
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@dvbkie099 @il0v3skz @chrishak@quokkaaah @bex90997 @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @leeknowyah @tumadreposts @hyunniebunni @cipher-ipher @alice630 @jinnies-princess @bangtancultsposts @evrythinghqppened @rebellescauses-blog @juicypebbless @fawnpeaks @the-life-of-stella @lakoya @compersian @seung-mine @mal-lunar-28
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ckret2 · 3 months
Text
A leaked list of some of the exciting upcoming content from The Book of Bill:
The pyramids of Giza ranked from most to least sexy.
Winning lottery numbers. He does not say which game they're for.
Three pages of Bill practicing blackletter calligraphy so that he can write the fancy-looking "The Book of Bill" on the cover. (Meant to tear those pages out before submitting book to publisher.)
A section where he implies that all your headcanons about him are stupid. Yes, your headcanons specifically. If you compare your copy of the book to a friend's, these sections will have different text. He insults all headcanons equally, even the ones that contradict each other.
A long, rambling story about a funny thing that he saw at a party in the Nightmare Realm, but he keeps getting distracted gossiping about the embarrassing love affairs and crimes against reality the partygoers have committed. Not a single one of these characters has ever been mentioned before or ever will be again. He gets so distracted he never finishes the original funny story. He was clearly drunk when he wrote this section.
A pet care sheet on how to keep a pet axolotl. All of the information is extremely wrong.
Some of the other dimensions he's tried and failed to conquer. He keeps insisting that all the failures were somebody else's fault. It's extremely obvious that they're his fault.
A photograph of a vivisected elephant, for some reason.
A phone number written on a cocktail napkin that Bill insists would be really funny for all the readers to prank call. It leads to the desk phone of the director of the CIA. 
Bill claims he definitely totally knew that Stan was disguised as Ford the whole time, he only played along to trick the Pines back, and then he quickly changes the topic.
A page of Bill's original poetry. It's all unintelligible symbols. It will take 27 years for somebody to crack the code. They're all gory but juvenile limericks.
A cocktail recipe. It will kill you.
Bill's original version of the portal blueprints that he copied to give Ford, with Bill's handwritten annotations. One part of the blueprints is labeled "component that will accidentally destroy the universe. REMEMBER NOT TO INCLUDE THIS COMPONENT IN SIXER'S COPY!!" He underlined this twice. If this page is compared to the portal blueprints in Journal 3, it's clear that Bill included that component in Ford's copy.
A personality quiz to help you meet your ideal sleep paralysis demon.
Bill's baby pictures. He looks exactly the same, except his bow tie and top hat are too big.
Bill reveals that he thought the llama symbol on the zodiac wheel referred to that farmer guy on the edge of town, and he was super confused to see Pacifica there.
Multiple pages scattered through the book about Bill's amazing powers, his brilliant and fun plans for our dimension, and all the cool favors he's willing and able to do for his friends and followers. All these pages end with a passive-aggressive aside about how somebody would have to be REALLY stupid to turn down an invitation to join Bill's crew, Stanford Pines—
A page labeled "My loyal servants and slaves!" filled with several hideous, oozing, nightmare-inducing Lovecraftian monsters, and one Mickey Mouse.
A self-portrait depicting Bill riding a rocket ship playing an electric guitar while rainbow lightning flashes all around him and money rains down from the sky.
A cynical, sneering tirade about how love is evolution's idiotic way of tricking primitive species into reproducing and how only simple-minded mortals who can't separate their true thoughts from their hormones fall for it. In the margins he's drawn a heart around the words "Bill Cipher +" a scribbled-out blot. The blot is completely unreadable. Despite this, the fandom will spend years debating the name underneath based on the size of the blot.
Extremely stupid "explanations" about various unsolved mysteries and crimes. In six years the world will discover one of them is accidentally correct and Alex Hirsch will get investigated by the FBI.
The book will be divided into four sections. Each section will begin with a big illuminated letter. In order, the four illuminated letters spell "F" "U" "C" "K".
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swiftispunk · 11 months
Note
Hiiii I just had this idea I know I submit requests all the time but…ok.
I just love that Joel is a natural protector. He wants to keep the people closest to him safe. However, reader is kind of proud and horrible at accepting help and favors from him. One day she’s cooking and accidentally slices herself with a knife and Joel’s trying to help her and she’s just not letting it happen. She’s trying to tend to her injury herself but she’s getting dizzy and failing miserably and Joel is like “Jesus Christ. Sit down, shut up, and let me fix you for fuck’s sake. If you don’t swallow your pride I’m gonna make you swallow it myself”
And like. Wow. Watching Joel be so skilled at wrapping her injury and be so commanding is kind of a turn on! So she still keeps up her proud attitude until he’s fucking her lol
I can just picture Joel fucking her while saying “you’re gonna let me take care of you from now. Got it?”
i’m in a state | joel miller x f!reader
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an in my hometown story (prequel) | series playlist
pairing: pre-outbreak!dbf!neighbour!joel miller x afab!fem!actor(ish)!reader rating: 18+ minors dni word count: 2.1k summary: the moment that sends you over the edge with your neighbour, joel. warnings etc: metaphorical smut, blood, hurt/comfort, stubborn!reader, sexual tension, fantasizing about joel miller’s hands, sex dreams (p in v sex + surprise sir kink WHAT), masturbation, pet names (sweetheart, darlin’), 10 year age gap (reader is 20 here, joel is 30), mentions of food. NO USE OF Y/N.
A/N: oh what’s this? yeah sooooo i couldn’t get it out of my head how much this was joel x superstar (aka in my hometown coded). so here’s a little prequel story for them, my two favourite babies. i missed being inside her head tbh. for those following the story, this takes place pre-part one (1997), and can be enjoyed as a stand-alone.
Summer. 1997.
You've known for a while that you're in love with Joel Miller. But that means something a little different when you're fifteen compared to when you're twenty.
When you were younger, it had meant carving his initials into your dresser, planning your imaginary wedding, reading catalogs and fantasizing over what dress you'd wear on your first date or what dining set you'd buy to furnish your shared home with his Big(?) Contractor's Salary.
Now, you're in college. Third year at the University of Texas at Austin. That Barbie-dream-life with Joel doesn't exist, and that's okay. Because now Joel's just...hot. Your hot thirty-year-old neighbour who's got the thickest arms you've ever seen, a patchy beard you'd love to sink your teeth into, chapped lips you've been thinking about kissing for years, big hands you want wrapped around your -
Okay, relax.
It's July Fourth weekend, and your dad's hosting his annual backyard barbeque party. He's loved throwing little get-togethers like this ever since your mom left, loves surrounding himself with friends and good times after being deprived of them for so long. You get it.
You're in the kitchen chopping celery for the potato salad when Joel finds you, ducking into the fridge for a beer.
"Hey, kid," he greets you in that familiar grumbly timbre of his. You look up from your work for one second to respond and -
Shit shit shit.
The knife slips, slicing a deep, clean line into the skin of your palm.
"Ouch - fuck," you mutter, immediately sticking your hand under the kitchen tap and hissing through your teeth when the water pressure hits the open wound.
"You okay?" Joel asks, having witnessed the entire incident happen, too fast for him to stop it. He leaves the beer in the fridge to come to your side, reaching his hands out helplessly to offer some assistance.
"I'm fine," you insist. "I got it."
You can't even look at him, it's fucking embarrassing, hurt and hapless in front of the smoldering hot Joel.
"You don't got it, you're bleedin' all over the fuckin' potatoes."
Oh, fuck.
You look down into the sink only to find you'd completely missed the fact that, yep, there had definitely been a colander full of Yukon Golds in there.
Well, so much for the potato salad.
"It's not even that bad," you snap, shutting the tap off and grabbing the nearest rag off the counter to wrap it around your hand.
"Would ya just let me see?" Joel presses, his fingers grazing your arms to try to hold you still while you turn away from him towards the pantry.
"No - it's - it's - fuck! "
You bump your injured hand into the kitchen island on your way to the pantry, kind of putting a damper on your attempts to prove that you're not in any pain.
"Stop movin' - " Joel tries to follow you as you make it to the cupboard, reaching out in vain as you strain with one hand towards the top shelf, trying desperately to find what you're looking for, to demonstrate how much you don't need his help.
"There's a first aid kit right here..." you murmur to yourself.
"Hey, kid, stop, will ya?”
His voice is firm now, and so are his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him. You protectively clutch your cut hand to your chest, still wrapped tightly in the rag.
Joel holds you there, while you look back at him indignantly.
"Would y’just sit down and let me fix it?”
Your nostrils flare and you consider arguing it further, but the pain is really starting to settle in now and it’s feeling more and more futile to keep fighting with Joel, especially when he’s this close to you, gripping your arms with such…paternal authority.
"Fine,” you concede. “Okay."
Joel nods approvingly.
"Now where's the first aid kit?" he asks, eyebrows raised.
You cock your head towards the top shelf of the pantry, where you'd been fruitlessly rummaging just a moment ago. Joel's gaze follows your eye line and then he guides you down into one of the kitchen chairs, turning back to the pantry to fish out the white box tucked behind the sewing kit, a leftover from your mom.
"Right..." he hums to himself as he sets the plastic box with the big red "+" on the table and begins sifting through it. You watch as he digs around its contents, competently setting out some band-aids, a few cotton pads, a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a tube of Neosporin and a roll of gauze. He’s clearly done this before.
“Let me see,” he says softly then, kneeling down to grip your arm in one of his big hands while your eyes widen at his touch. Joel carefully unfurls the rag, now soaked in your blood, to reveal the grisly cut beneath.
"Shit,” Joel curses quietly. “It’s still bleedin'..."
He rises with a low grunt, pushing off you with an absent hand on your thigh. Your skin sears where he touches. Back on his feet, Joel glances awkwardly around your dad’s little kitchen.
“Cloth? Clean cloth?” he clarifies.
"Under the sink," you inform him while bright red blood begins to pool in your palm again. You bite your lip to stop from crying because it really does fucking hurt and all that blood has got to be cause for concern. But crying's the last thing you need to be doing right now.
Joel finds what he’s looking for and returns to situate himself on his knees in front of you again. He wraps the fresh rag around your wound just as the blood’s about to drip down onto the linoleum. Joel encases your bleeding palm in his two big hands as he compresses the cloth into your skin.
"We'll just hold that there for a minute,” he mutters, fixing his eyes on yours as he squeezes your hand between his.
You work to control your breathing, but it’s not because of the cut, more the way his massive palms engulf your entire hand, sending your imagination running wild as you consider how big they’d look other places…over your ass, maybe…across your stomach…on your tits…
"Does it hurt?" Joel interrupts your fantasizing, and you shake your head slightly as you come back to reality.
"No," you lie.
He rolls his eyes.
"Just gonna check it again..."
You visibly wince when he unravels the cloth, grimacing as the fabric drags over your open wound.
"Might wanna work on your acting there, superstar,” Joel smirks.
“Ew, shut up, only Tommy calls me that,” you reply grumpily as Joel assesses your palm, turning your hand over in his to see the extent of the damage.
"It's pretty deep, kid. Stopped bleedin' at least."
"It's nothing."
Joel scoffs then, shaking his head in disbelief and you think he almost seems a little angry. Think it’s kind of a sexy look on him.
“Christ, you're proud, huh?” he gripes, letting your hand go. “You can just say it hurts, you know."
You sigh and finally let the truth slip, agony coating your voice as you give in.
“Fine, okay - fuck - it hurts.”
“Was’at so hard?” he smirks, eyebrows cocking. Asshole. Stupid, hot, perfect asshole.
You roll your eyes dramatically. How’s that’s for acting, Miller?
But Joel's not paying attention - now he gets to work. You watch as, with tender care, he clutches your wrist to hold your hand steady, starting first by cleaning the wound with a cotton pad he soaks in rubbing alcohol.
While he tends to your wound, your mind wanders, head fuzzy from blood loss and Joel’s meticulous touch. He’s so precise with it, his thick fingers managing the delicate task with ease. You wonder what else his fingers are precise with, your eyes glazing over as that thought invades your brain and -
Oh, god. Fuck. Fuck. You want him. You want him so much it’s making you squirm in your chair, Joel reminding you to, “Sit still” while he presses the gauze into your skin. But the pain mingled with that commanding edge in his voice only makes you want him more - and you didn’t even know that was a thing for you.
Joel seems blissfully unaware of your spiralling, cooing gentle, “Shhh, it’s okay”s at you when you flinch at the sting of the alcohol, a soft, sweet sound that only makes things worse, goosebumps rising on your skin as his quiet hum vibrates through you. Finally, he applies a thin layer of the Neosporin over the cut, dabbing it over your skin with his calloused fingers.
"So...theatre college. How’s it goin’?” he says as he applies a bandage over the wound.
“Um...yeah, you know, it’s going,” you reply, still feeling very much dazed and distant, Joel still very much on his knees in front of you in an extremely distracting way.
"Surprised you didn't just head straight out to California," he murmurs, wrapping more gauze over your bandaged palm for good measure.
It's an interesting idea, and one you'd considered. At the time, you'd still been dreaming of your Barbie-dream-life with Joel. Staying at home meant it might still happen. Now, of course, you can’t wait to get out.
"Well, UT has a great program," you shrug simply.
"Maybe one day, though, right?" Joel grins up at you and you smile back.
"Maybe," you nod.
"All done," he declares then.
You're not expecting it and you don't know why he does it (maybe some kind of fatherly instinct), but as Joel finishes wrapping the gauze around your hand, he tentatively leans in to plant a quick kiss to the bandage and shit, fuck.
Electricity flows from the place his lips touch and all of a sudden you think you see it in him too, that attraction, that want. His brown eyes peak up at you when his lips make contact with your covered skin and he must know what he's doing, there's no fucking way he would just do that if he wasn't trying to drive you crazy -
"What happened in here?"
Your dad, suddenly appearing in the kitchen doorway, easily cutting through the tension as he walks in on your little moment. Your head snaps up to see him taking in the scene, bloody potatoes in the sink and the first aid kit torn open on the table. Joel gives you your hand back and stands hastily, taking several steps away from you as he does.
"Just had a little accident - uh, it's alright now," Joel grumbles, voice thick, and then he's ducking out of the room in a rush, beerless. You and your father stare at each other, both dumbfounded but...for different reasons.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
"Christ, you're proud, huh?" Joel grunts as he presses you against the kitchen island, those big hands of his trailing up your sides and landing over your naked breasts. "F'you don't swallow that pride, darlin', I'm gonna make you swallow it."
He punctuates the tantalizing threat with a hard squeeze of your nipples, and you groan as his mouth collides with yours, tongue licking into your mouth feverishly as he grinds his hips into you.
"Make me, Joel," you beg, reaching between your bodies to stroke his cock, as you tear your mouth from his and nip at his strong jaw, eliciting a delicious groan from him that reverberates into the hollow of your neck.
Joel wastes no time, hoisting you up onto the island so your legs wrap around his waist, his cock sliding inside you with ease, as if you were made to take him. You cling to him with your hands behind his neck as he rocks his hips into you, making you whine and keen and moan with each thrust of his length into your wet heat.
"You're gonna let me take care of you from now on, you got that, sweetheart?" he whispers raggedly in your ear as he fucks you, his strong arms braced over your thighs and holding you steady as he pounds into you with all the force and intensity you'd always imagined he'd use.
"Yes, sir…” you promise him, and Joel growls at the word as it slips from your mouth, the memory of his voice from earlier seeping into your reverie -
Shhh, it's okay...Sit still...Stop movin'....
The echoes of his drawl begin to fade as the vision sinks to black and...shit. All too soon it hits you as you wake with a stir.
It's not real. Just a dream. The party ended hours ago. You’re alone in bed after dark.
Also…sir? What the fuck? Your subconscious clearly has some interesting ideas it wants to make known to you so that’s…cool. He just had to get all commanding and bossy earlier. Fucker.
Tragically, the wet spot in your sleep shorts definitely is real. You sigh, letting your measly fingers finish what your dream-Joel had started. You come quietly in the confines of your bedroom, the image of Joel on his knees in front of you the last thing you see before sleep takes you again.
Well - you're off the deep end now.
One way or another, you've got to get your hands on Joel fucking Miller.
I'm in a state, I'm in a state Nothing can touch us, my love I'm in a state, I'm in a state Nothing can touch us, my love
in my hometown taglist <3
@blkcali @erikelovesdin @luvrking @ barbellpedro @bellath @readz4u @casserole20 @sexygaypalpatine @poopeshites @amelie-712 @livinxdeadxgrl @honeymarvel @azurapphire @wroetospidey @freeobservationtale
@tieronecrush @illgowithyoufren @shehads-world @atremises @gabywho @detectivedaughter @wroetospidey @baddiesforcorpse @grippingbeskar @halseyhoodjpg @soph55 @pedritosdarling @obsessedwithjustaboutanything @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @pedgito @evyiione @rogersbarnesxx @mo0nfleur @slut-4-multifandoms @stevie75 @b-y-3-n @joelscruff @sl-ut @tinygarbage @pedropascll @denialismysanctuary @nightdreamss @notpetewentz @bigboiseason123 @witheldclouds @xxmr-potato-headxx @harryhubba @cyberfa1ryar1 @pedrosballsack @thevelvetrevivall @somesaltycorner @marysheperdith @midnightswithdearkatytspb @kaeferandplaza @life-in-the-city @cowgirl---bebop @zhxw @averagedilfenjoyerr @pointlessandfutile @iso-la-ti-on
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solaireverie · 7 months
Text
dr3 + mv33 | call it what you want
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pairing: daniel ricciardo x max verstappen x f!reader
summary: [ social media au ] the internet will believe anything but the truth about you and your boyfriends
warnings: language, there's a few jokes about dan and y/n "adopting" max
faceclaim: gemma chan
author’s note: RAH RAH POLYSHIPPING LET'S GO PARTY PEOPLE. this au is so close to my heart. enjoy!
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liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, landonorris and 348,195 others
tagged: maxverstappen1, danielricciardo
yourusername the kenergy is strong 🏖
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user we can always count on y/n to confirm that the boys are still alive during break ���
↪ yourusername at your service 🫡
landonorris max's shirt lol
↪ yourusername daniel convinced him that it's fashionable 🙄
↪ danielricciardo was i wrong?
↪ yourusername keep telling yourself that 😐
↪ maxverstappen1 you didn't like it?
↪ yourusername NO babe that's not what i meant. you looked great ❤️ just maybe think twice before listening to daniel's fashion advice in the future
↪ danielricciardo EXCUSE YOU 😒
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liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 258,742 others
tagged: maxverstappen1, yourusername
daniel3.jpg respect the cuddle schedule, y/n ☹️
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yourusername screw the cuddle schedule i got here first
↪ yourusername it's max's fault for taking too long in the shower anyways
↪ maxverstappen1 lies. slander. my lawyers will be in contact
user what's the story behind the caption and the comments 👀
↪ maxverstappen1 y/n was being mean
↪ yourusername max was being a sore loser
↪ user i'm still confused 🧐
user why do they need a cuddle schedule in the first place???
↪ yourusername because max and daniel like to hog each other 😺
↪ user y/n having to fight for her bf's attention with his best friend 😮‍💨 i could never
user jimmy and sassy at the last picture: are we a joke to you 🤨
↪ yourusername nOOoOoOoo i love my adopted cat children very much i promise 😭
yourusername has added to their story
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seen by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 893,127 others
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249,836 likes
formulafashion max verstappen attends close friend y/n l/n's birthday party in a bespoke suit, which is a rare move for the typically casually dressed driver.
when asked about his outfit choice, max said that it was "a favor" and that "they're lucky i love them" 😳 could love be in the cards for red bull's superstar?
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user *they're* lucky i love *them* 👀
user when did max get have the time to date? he's always with daniel and y/n 😂
↪ user maybe it's one of their mutual friends? 🤷
user whoever it is i hope that y/n and daniel approve 🥹
↪ user who are we kidding, they've probably given max's partner the shovel talk already lol
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liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, yourbestfriend and 1,684,239 others
tagged: maxverstappen1, danielricciardo
yourusername they are the best thing that's ever been mine 🤍
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user THE TWIST 😱😱😱
danielricciardo the triangle is the strongest shape 😌
↪ maxverstappen1 you are so cringe
↪ yourusername don't listen to him he's wearing your hoodie and blushing rn 🥹
user who saw this coming be honest
↪ landonorris me 🙋 btw @.danielricciardo you still owe me five gallons of milk for sneaking max and y/n into your driver's room
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likes and reblogs are appreciated!
masterlist | taglist: @boiohboii
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fanficimagery · 1 year
Text
Girl in the Painting
After taking a closer look at Xavier's paintings, Wednesday realizes he wasn't having dreams of her at all. But she does know the girl in the paintings and she's decided that this one good deed shouldn't kill her.
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Words: 6.6K Author's Note: Wednesday AU. I'm well aware Xavier never had dreams of Wednesday; he just painted her because he'd seen her and "instantly fell in love". For this, however, I'm saying he's dreamt of her, possibly even before she showed up to Nevermore, and she realizes later on she was never actually the center of his dreams. Also, TRIGGER WARNING for mentions of past attempted sexual assault. It's brief.
As the students of Nevermore are packing up and readying themselves for their trips home, a group of girls are sitting around the charred fountain in the courtyard.
"So what are your plans for summer?" Bianca asks, fingers skimming the water. The dark skinned siren smiles when Enid blushes prettily, her gaze immediately darting to the ever stoic Wednesday. She's been wondering, as of late, if Enid's feelings towards Wednesday were leaning towards romantic rather than platonic.
"Going to Wednesday's home," Enid finally says. "Gonna spend a couple of weeks with the Addams' family."
"Yeah? I didn't think our resident living dead girl was into slumber parties."
"It's going to be a blast," Wednesday deadpans. Yoko chuckles, sipping on whatever concoction she's mixed up that satiates her bloodlust. "You two are more than welcome. Apparently the more, the merrier."
"Sorry," Yoko muses, "but the coven's gonna travel all summer. I'm quite looking forward to it."
"Mmm. And as much as I'm loving the new attitude, I got some things to take care of before we come back to Nevermore," Bianca says, her silver eyes glowing just the faintest. She really couldn't wait until she finished this favor for her mother and her new creep of a husband. "Besides, I can't be seen painting the nails of the girl responsible for my break-up with Xavier so soon. I at least gotta make it seem like I've made you sweat."
Wednesday just blinks at Bianca's reasoning, but Enid frowns. "Wait, what? I thought you broke up because Xavier was being his emo artistic self?"
Yoko grins around the straw of her drink. "She wishes."
"I actually found a sketch of Wednesday in his journal before I even knew who Wednesday was," Bianca confesses. "Here. Look." She takes her phone out of her pocket, scrolling through her pictures. "I snapped a pic to see what I could find out online, but shockingly nothing was solved until Wednesday showed up here."
"I find social media to be a soul-sucking void of meaningless affirmation."
"Yep. Sounds like you," Bianca says. "Look. See? He drew this before you even stepped foot behind Nevermore's gates."
Wednesday takes the phone and Enid leans closer to take a look. Both girls scrutinize the sketch, both equally baffled to see who everyone has assumed was Wednesday herself smiling. But just as Wednesday is about to hand the phone back, something catches her eye and she brings the phone closer to her face to scrutinize it.
"I can see why you thought this was me," Wednesday says, "but I assure you, it is not me who's apparently caught Xavier's fancy."
"No?" Bianca huffs. "Sure as hell looks like you."
Yoko nods. "Could have fooled me."
"I thought it was me as well, but this sketch proves me wrong. Look here." Wednesday zooms in on the picture, focusing on the right eyebrow. "You see that scar? I don't have it."
Bianca stares before rolling her eyes and reclaiming her phone. "So Xavier gives you a flaw and you immediately don't think it's you?"
"It is not a flaw. It's a sign of strength." Bianca, and the ever-smiling Enid and Yoko frown at the tone Wednesday has now taken on and the steely glint in her eyes.
"What are you talking about?"
"A couple of years ago, me and my siblings decided to walk into town after a tiring day at school. A group of older teenage boys cornered us down an alley, and they held me and Pugsley back while making us watch as they tore at the clothes on my sister's back. They mocked her tears and promised that whatever they did to her, no one would believe her since even our sheriff hated outcasts like us. They wanted to break her because we were different. But in a bout of bravery that I will forever be proud of her for, she took the small blade our uncle Fester gifted her and stabbed one of her attackers. In return, they hit her in the face with half a brick and fled with their friend."
"Shit." Bianca blinks in surprise. "Is your sister okay?"
"She's fine. They only left her with a scar and a fear of normies. She used to have the social personality that Enid possesses, but now she haunts the halls of our home rather than leaving it. I tried to get her to attend Nevermore, but even I failed in doing so. Xavier's sketch though, it shows her smiling. That tells me she will be okay."
"So… Xavier only thinks he's infatuated with you?" Yoko wonders.
"It appears so. But if I can manage to get him to my home, maybe he'll see for himself it wasn't me he was having dreams of."
Bianca huffs a laugh. "Sounds fun. Now I'm really glad I can't make it to your slumber party. The breakup is still too fresh to see him fawning over someone else. Maybe the time away will do me some good."
"This sounds like my kind of drama." Yoko sighs wistfully. "Too bad I'll have to miss it."
"Yes, well, Xavier did gift me this phone." Wednesday pulls out a sleek iPhone. "Perhaps if I had your number, I could text you updates. Or death threats."
"Done and done. Gimme." Yoko happily takes Wednesday's phone, typing her information into it. Then taking a selfie, she hands the phone to Bianca who does the same, but makes sure Wednesday understands that she doesn't want any updates.
"We're going to have so much fun!" Enid happily bounces in place, accepting Wednesday's phone to type in her own information. "I can't wait to meet your family."
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At 001 Cemetery Lane, a gothic looking manor stands tall and proud behind a sentient gate.
With your fingers running through the dust along the wall, you quietly walk down the hallway as your sister's friend can be heard babbling on and on. Enid Sinclair had shown up only a couple of days ago, her bubbly personality breathing life into your usually dark home. You'd have kept your distance had you not learned she was from Nevermore, but upon learning she was a werewolf, you found yourself leaving your room while there was a guest in your home.
Halfway down the staircase, the doorbell ominously tolls and Lurch appears from the next room over to answer it. You freeze, wondering who would dare walk up to your house.
Lurch opens the door and your breathing ceases for a moment at the sight of a teenage boy standing there. He's around six feet tall, give or take a couple of inches, and he sheepishly runs a hand through his chin length hair.
"Hey, uh, is Wednesday home?" He's staring up at Lurch who's towering over him, nervously tugging at the sleeves of his coat which seem to be torn on one arm. Lurch turns and looks up at you, and you startle when the boy's gaze lands on you. His brow furrows before he smiles. "Hi. I, uh, I think your gate tried to eat me."
Your lips faintly twitch and your heart rate starts to slow. If he knows Wednesday and isn't freaking out too much about Gate, there's a good chance he's from Nevermore as well. "He's temperamental. You need to be quick to avoid his swing." Then without waiting for a response, you turn around and call out, "Wednesday! There's a boy at the door for you."
A small weight lands on your shoulder and you grin at the sight of Thing. He trembles excitedly, tapping and pointing and making gestures as you giggle at his enthusiasm.
"Oh, hey Thing! Long time no see." When you glance back at the door, the boy is now inside your home with the door shut behind him and Lurch nowhere to be found. Thing scrambles off your shoulder and rushes towards the boy, and it's not until the boy squats down to fist bump Thing that you catch yourself admiring how cute the boy is. Immediately you shut that thought down and wipe any form of amusement from your expression. Then when the boy glances back at you, he stands tall and smiles yet again. "I'm Xavier Thorpe," he then introduces himself.
"YN," you deadpan. You hear Wednesday's nearly silent footfalls behind you and nod at him before you take a step back up the staircase. "Enjoy your stay here. Don't touch Mother's plants. They bite."
As you turn around, you're unsurprised to find Wednesday looking right at you. Her eyebrow twitches, your eyes narrow, and you clasp your hands behind your back before marching back up the stairs.
At the top of the staircase, Enid is practically beaming at you. "He's cute. Right?"
"Ask my sister. He's her guest."
"What? They're not-"
But you pay her no mind and trace your steps back to your room.
At the bottom of the staircase, Xavier watches as Wednesday's sister disappears. "How long have you known?" He asks.
"That it was my sister you've been having dreams of and not me?" He gives her a deadpan stare and Wednesday nearly smiles. "Only since our last day at Nevermore. Bianca showed me the first picture you ever drew and the scar in her eyebrow tipped me off. You're welcome."
Enid skips down the stairs, sighing as she approaches her friends. "Well you're going to have your work cut out for you, Xavier. She thinks you're here for Wednesday."
"Technically, I am." He shrugs.
"And now you're here for her," Wednesday says. "Protect her heart. You so much as bruise it and I'll dissect yours."
Xavier blinks in shock and Enid giggles, skipping to his side and hooking her arm with his. "Let the wooing begin."
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Over the past couple of days, you keep your distance from Wednesday's friends. You've heard them around the house, sure, but only managed to really be in the same room as them when you all had dinner as a family. You always sat between Wednesday and Pugsley, across from Enid and Xavier, but your eyes never strayed too far from your plate.
One morning, you have the urge to visit what used to be your favorite part of the manor.
The sunroom towards the back of the manor used to be your space- filled with vibrant flowers, plants, and vines and even a small fountain in the corner. But ever since the incident, you've tried to find solace in the one place you loved, only to have everything you touch wilt right before your very eyes. And now- now the sunroom is filled with black and gray and brown plants.
Finding what used to be a rose, your mother's favorite flower, you pick it up and gently cradle it in the palms of your hands. One of its petals crumbles beneath the pad of your thumb and it takes everything in you to not cry.
"I was wondering where you've been sneaking off to." The voice startles you and you turn to see Xavier standing under the archway of the entrance. His hair is pulled back into a small knot at the back of his head, a few strands left loose, and you quickly squash down the thought that he looks really cute like this. "Sorry," he then apologizes. "I thought you would have heard my footsteps."
"...no worries."
You turn back around, gently laying the dead flower back down. Exhaling softly, you then move towards the door leading outside, unsurprised when you hear footsteps following you. "So this place is… awesome."
You huff a laugh, stopping just inside the door and only peering outside towards the family cemetery. "Believe it or not, it wasn't always like this. I used to be able to breathe life into this room."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm. Now everything I touch seems to die."
"Oh I wouldn't say that."
"Really? Take a look around, Mr. Thorpe. I did this." Xavier takes a look around, frowning and trying to understand you. Exhaling softly again, you paste on a friendly grin and turn to face him. "If you're looking for my sister, she and Enid have Uncle Fester in the electric chair up in the attic."
He barks out a surprised laugh. "What?"
"He loves it." You shrug. Then as you're walking away, you say, "Fair warning; if Uncle Fester tells you to pull his finger, don't."
"Why? Because his farts are killer?"
"No. Because he'll electrocute you."
You leave Xavier chuckling in your wake, finding it a little easier to be in your sister's friends presence.
Then two days later, it's your turn to find Xavier in the sunroom. His hair is back in the little knot that you couldn't stop staring at, dressed in paint splattered clothes as he stands in front of an easel.
When he catches sight of you, he offers you a smile before he focuses on his canvas once more. You continue walking closer and when he doesn't say anything, you walk around to see what he was inspired to paint. Surprisingly, it's a black and white portrait of your sister sitting behind her cello mid-stroke.
"Oh wow," you breathe in awe. "Xavier, this is amazing."
"You think so?"
When you chance a glance at him and notice the faint pink surrounding his cheek bones, you smile genuinely at him. "Of course. You're really talented."
"Glad you think so." Xavier steps back, looking at his work as he stands side by side with you. "Wednesday, uh, she played the cello one night and it was amazing. No one thought her capable of it."
"Why? Because she's death incarnate?"
Xavier chuckles, bashfully averting his gaze. "Something like that." Then looking at the painting once more, he says, "Your mother saw one of my pieces at Nevermore and asked if I could recreate it so she could hang it here."
You nod in understanding, unable to tear your eyes away from the way Xavier has captured your sister. Then right before your eyes, the painting slowly comes to life- Wednesday's bangs blowing in the wind, one hand pushing and drawing the bow across the cello strings as the other holds down certain strings in a muted song.
You quietly gasp, eyes widening in surprise. You watch in awe before turning towards your companion, only to find him holding his hand out towards the painting with his eyes closed. "Oh." You utter in realization. "You're gifted and then you're literally gifted."
Xavier's eyes open and he nods, eyes sparkling. "I have the gift of animation."
"Marvelous."
You continue staring at the painting, finding the foundation of your walls quaking and feeling a bit more comfortable in the presence of the boy who has decided to share his power with you.
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You're so used to sitting between your siblings at dinner that you're thrown for a loop when you find Enid in your usual place. Your eyes narrow suspiciously, but Enid and Pugsley merely smile while Wednesday arches an eyebrow at you.
Xavier fidgets nervously in his chair, smiling sheepishly at you. "Come on. I don't bite," he muses as he gestures to the empty seat.
Against your will, you blush.
"Pity," Wednesday drawls. "I think my sister would have quite liked that."
"Wednesday!" Your mortification makes Enid giggle. You nervously take your seat before your father takes your mother's hand, pressing kisses to the back of her hand and all the way up her arm where he then proceeds to mockingly bite her. "Oh my god. You're all so embarrassing."
"They're cute." Enid beams at your parents' affectionate behavior.
"Someone drown me," you mumble.
"Only after dinner," your mother says.
Xavier snorts and you briefly flash him a grin before fiddling with your utensils.
Lurch brings the food out, everyone having a pasta dish with the exception of Enid who'd been brought out a medium-rare steak. You quietly dig in, gaze darting from person to person as the conversation flows around you.
Eventually, when the dessert is brought out, Enid addresses the younger crowd.
"So the cinema is playing a werewolf movie and I really want to go see it and make fun of it. Is anyone else interested in going?"
"Sure." Xavier shrugs. "Sounds fun."
Wednesday sighs. "If I must."
"I have plans with Thing," Pugsley says, smiling apologetically at Enid.
All eyes turn towards you and you fight the urge to shrink in your seat. You gulp, but before you can come up with an excuse to not have to leave your house, your mother is urging you to go. "It sounds like fun, sweetheart. Surely you'd love to go with your sister and friends."
"I-"
It's been years, darling," your father says. "I think it's time to get back out there. You're not that naive little girl anymore, mija."
You let your mouth close, everyone ignoring Xavier's, "Am I missing something?"
Wednesday's giving you her usual deadpan stare whereas Enid is smiling and nodding, encouraging you to go. Both your parents are smiling, anticipating your answer, but what makes you cave is the fact that a part of you actually wants to go. You want to be somewhat of a normal teenager, being out and about with your sister, Enid, and a cute boy.
Reluctantly, your shoulders sag and you give a nod. "Fine. I'll make an attempt."
"I'll take it!" Enid blurts.
Wednesday looks pleased with your answer and you finish the rest of dinner without uttering another word.
Then the next evening, you're being picky about what outfit you should wear. You'd taken to wearing different shades of black and gray, but tonight you want to look good. All your dresses and skirts are out of the question, and eventually you settle on a pair of burgundy plaid leggings and a black sweater crop top. You fix your hair to your liking and then slip your feet into a pair of black combat boots before lacing them up tightly. Then deeming yourself ready, you shove your phone, cash, and ID into a miniature backpack that is adorned with skulls and crossbones.
Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you finally make your way downstairs.
Wednesday, Enid, and Xavier are waiting for you, and when Wednesday sees you… a smile slowly blossoms as she takes you in.
"What are you-" Enid turns around and her jaw drops. Then she beams and practically hops in place in her excitement. "You're wearing something other than black!"
Xavier turns, his gulp very obvious. "Wow." You think he must've wanted to keep that to himself because he blushes and nervously runs a hand through his loose hair. "You, uh, you look nice."
You arch an eyebrow at him, grinning. "Thanks."
Walking past them, you walk outside to where Lurch is waiting by the car to drive you into town. He hums when he sees you and you wrinkle your nose at him as he opens the back door for you. You climb in to sit on the bench seat directly behind the driver's seat, holding in your surprise when Wednesday and Enid shove Xavier in right behind you. He practically falls into his seat, righting himself as smoothly as he can, and Wednesday and Enid take their seats across from you.
Enid and Xavier keep the conversation flowing with you and Wednesday occasionally humming in response.
After several long minutes of driving, Wednesday is instructing Lurch where to drop you all off. It's a couple blocks away from the cinema, but your sister apparently wants to go for a brief walk. Though the second your feet are on the pavement and Lurch drives away, you freeze.
"Hey. You okay?" Xavier asks.
Your hands are gripping the straps to your backpack and you gulp, subconsciously stepping closer to him when he gently touches your elbow. "Y-Yeah."
"Come on. Wednesday will leave us behind if we linger."
"Mhm."
Gently pulling on your arm, you stiffly follow Xavier. Your eyes are peeled for anyone staring, hands tightening on the straps of your bag. The only time you feel yourself exhaling with relief is when Xavier puts himself between you and the street, letting you take the part of the sidewalk that's closest to the buildings.
Enid and Wednesday are walking in front of you, elbows linked, and occasionally Enid giggles over her shoulder when she glances back at you. But you're too paranoid to pay her any mind and try to focus on the silent strength that Xavier is unknowingly offering up.
At the cinema, Enid asks for four tickets to the latest werewolf thriller, and she happily claps when Xavier pays for everyone. At the snack counter it takes everything in you to not bolt or hide out in the bathroom, but you shakily manage to retrieve your own cash to pay for some nachos and a drink.
So far no one's stared or shouted and you find yourself relaxing, especially when you take a seat in the movie room and everyone is paying attention to their people that they showed up with.
Sitting between Xavier and Wednesday, you find yourself breathing a little easier.
Enid has several hot dogs balancing on her lap, Wednesday is chewing on black licorice, and you and Xavier had the same idea to get nachos. He, however, also nabbed several boxes of candy and a bucket of popcorn.
"I hope you choke on a kernel," Wednesday says as she watches him stuff handful after handful of popcorn into his mouth.
You giggle, licking the cheesy goodness from your fingertips and sipping on your drink.
And halfway through the movie, you hear Xavier actually choke. A laugh slips out of your sister before her lips are pressed closed once more, and you offer Xavier your drink. Sharing a straw doesn't bother you, so you nod in reassurance as he stares at it.
For the rest of the movie, you and Xavier share your drink. And when you run out, he quickly leaves the darkness of the room to get you a refill.
After the movie, you're standing outside in front of the cinema as Enid talks about the horrible cosmetics they used to portray a werewolf. Wednesday is tapping away on her phone before she puts it away, cutting Enid off mid rant and giving her a nod. She squeals and happily claps her hand, and you stare at them in confusion.
"There's a fair going on," Wednesday says. "Enid wants to go."
You slowly tense up. "Oh."
The bubbly werewolf's smile falls. "But if that's too much for you, we don't-"
"No. It's fine," you assure her. Your hands are back to gripping the straps of your backpack. "We can- we can go."
Enid is back to happily clapping, but Wednesday curiously studies your demeanor. And when she sees you're not about to have a meltdown, she turns and follows after her friend.
"We can always hang out front of the fair if you really don't want to go in," Xavier says. You startle, somehow having forgotten he was there. "I don't mind waiting with you."
"It's okay. Really." Your smile is shaky as you look up at him. "Just, uh, maybe don't leave me alone in there?"
"Stick by your side. Got it." Xavier grins as he offers you his elbow and you're quick to latch on. "I'll even win you the ugliest prize we can find if you're up for it."
You chuckle and let him lead the way, occasionally glancing up at him. "Christ, I forget how tall you are sometimes."
"I'm not tall, you're just really small."
"Ha. Ha."
When you eventually make it to the fair, Xavier hesitates with you as you warily glance around. Then taking a deep breath, you press on and practically make yourself flush against his side. You walk around for a bit, smiling when you see Wednesday and Enid pass you by, Enid already holding tightly to a stuffed unicorn.
As you're walking around, your eyes are drawn back to a green and black dragon that's about half your size. Xavier must notice because he decides to try his hand at basketball in order to win the prize and it takes him four tries to win it.
You don't know what it is about Xavier that makes your guard start to drop, but you find yourself smiling and laughing a bit more easier. He tries winning a panda next, but in between his dart throwing, he notices as you keep your back to the game and are staring from side to side.
You're too distracted to notice he's watching you, your arms wrapped around your dragon as you nervously chew on the bottom corner of your lip. He sighs a little dejectedly, turning around so he can see where you're staring off to. "So who's the lucky guy… or girl?"
"Excuse me?" You look up at him, brow furrowed in confusion.
"You keep glancing around." He faintly grins. "Are you waiting for someone?"
You study his features, eyes subtly widening when you notice something. Was that- was that jealousy clouding his expression? "Wednesday didn't tell you," you then mumble in awe. You for sure thought he knew why you never left your home. After all, Enid did.
"Tell me what?"
You gulp, glancing at the carnie listening in to your conversation. "Let's go for a walk. I'll fill you in." Shakily exhaling, you gesture for Xavier to follow. Side by side, he walks with you with his hands tucked away in the pockets of his coat. "A few years ago, Wednesday, Pugsley, and I were attacked by a group of normies. It… wasn't a pleasant experience for me and it's actually how I got this," you say while gesturing to the scar on your eyebrow. "They were ripping- uh, they were ripping off my clothes, so I stabbed one of them." Your breath hitches and when you chance a glance up at Xavier, you find that his jaw is clenched. "I stopped them from doing that to me, but they managed to hit me with a brick before they ran away."
You make it a few more steps before you're being tugged to a stop and then Xavier is walking to stand in front of you. Gently cupping one side of your face, you manage to hold back a flinch when his thumb brushes over your scar. "You're safe with me. You know that right?"
"I'm starting to realize that."
"That was a shit thing those normies did and I'll be damned if they do anything on my watch." When you meet his gaze, he offers you a small smile. "Now let's go win Wednesday the brightest stuffed animal we can find and make her take a picture with it."
Slowly smiling, you chuckle. "Okay."
And by the end of the night, you and Xavier have won the most terribly bright and fluffy stuffed animals, shoved them near Wednesday's face, and had Enid hurriedly snap a picture of your glaring sister.
You're smiling and skipping alongside Enid towards a waiting Lurch, laughing with all the stuffed animals crammed between your arms and bodies before crawling into the idling car.
For once, in a very long time, you've had fun and didn't worry about any normies looking in your direction.
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Xavier's just got off the phone with his father when a familiar song being played on the cello draws him towards Wednesday's room. The door is open, the room is empty, but there's another door that leads out to a balcony.
Following the music, he's not surprised to find Wednesday playing Paint It Black while Thing turns the sheet music for her. Gomez, Morticia, Pugsley, and Enid are also on the balcony, staring at something down below.
"What's going on?" He asks, stepping closer to the railing.
Enid glances at him, beaming. "Take a look for yourself."
Xavier glances down, gaze falling to the gazebo that's been strung up with white fairy lights. But what draws his attention is the twirling figure inside the gazebo, adorned in a black leotard and a multicolored tutu. His jaw subtly drops. "She dances?"
"She dances." He looks over at Morticia Addams, tears glistening in her eyes. "It's been years since she's put on her slippers though."
"This week and a half with you and Enid have brought our daughter back," Gomez says. "Thank you."
Paint It Black fades into Nothing Else Matters and a majority of the white lights darken into purple. Xavier is entranced by the way you twirl on the tips of your toes, the stretch of your neck whenever your head is thrown back, and the long stretch of your leg when you twirl on the tips of your toes only on one foot.
As the music fades out, Enid breaks out into applause.
Your head snaps up at the sound of clapping, chest heaving, and your face burns when you see everyone watching you. Your little brother whistles as he claps too, but it's your parents' beaming and tearful expressions that keeps you from fleeing. Well them and Xavier who looks more than a little awed.
So before you do take your leave, you give them a little bow and then rush back inside the house.
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Sitting on the floor in the middle of the sunroom, you're staring at the lockscreen on your phone. You never saw when the picture was taken, but apparently Enid had been keeping tabs on you and Xavier when you were at the fair, and now it was one of your favorite pictures.
In the picture, you and Xavier are walking side by side, one of your arms wrapped around your stuffed dragon with the other arm looped through his. You're looking up at him and he down at you, both of you smiling. But what made you grin at the picture the most was the height difference between you and Xavier. Enid was spot on when she described you two as tall and smol.
Hearing approaching footsteps, you block out your screen and climb to your feet… and speak of the devil.
Xavier walks in, smiling. "Knew I'd find you here."
"Did you now?" Walking over to a bench seat, you gesture to the space beside you. "What's going on?"
"Nothing. Just wanted to see if you were up to going into town. The cinema is showing this new cheesy horror flick and I thought you might be interested in going before my time here is up."
"Oh. Uh, yeah." Your heart starts to hammer in your rib cage. Could this be a- "Just us or are Enid and Wednesday waiting for us out front?"
"Just us?" His answer is more of a question, his cheeks tinting pink the longer you stare.
Eventually you grace him with a bashful smile. "Sure. I'd like that."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." You laugh. "Are- are we leaving now?"
"Yeah. We can, uh, window shop and all that fun stuff before the movie."
Warmth surges through you, at the thought that Xavier wants to spend time with just you. You're not sure if this is actually a date, but you're looking forward to one on one time without a family member lurking around the corner. "Alright. Let me just go get a bag." As you stand up to leave the room, a vine falls over the entrance. But not just any vine- a vibrant green vine that hadn't been there moments before.
"Huh." Xavier huffs. "That's the first colorful plant life I've seen in this room."
Your eyes widen and you glance all around the room, taking notice how the dead plant life isn't looking quite so dull anymore. "No way," you breathe in awe. Turning towards where the fountain sits, you rush over and pick up one of the dead water lilies. Cradling it in the palms of your hand, you notice a couple of changes in the once dead flower. Feeling Xavier walk up beside you, you ask, "Remember how I said I used to be able to breathe life into this place?"
"Yeah."
"Watch." Bringing the water lily closer to your face, you let your eyes fall shut as you inhale deeply. Then slightly pursing your lips, you blow out slowly and you can feel the water lily coming back to life right there in the palm of your hands.
"Wow." Your eyes open upon Xavier's exclamation. "And here I was thinking you had a green thumb or something. Not that you actually breathe life into them."
Huffing a laugh, you blink your tears away and gently lay the water lily back in the fountain. "I haven't been able to do this for years. I guess I had a mental block and then you- you and Enid show up and I feel more at peace than I have in a while." You step up on the side of the fountain then, turning towards Xavier as you smile. "Thank you." Then leaning in, you press a kiss to his cheek.
He suddenly turns bashful, angling his face downward so his hair shields his blushing cheeks. "I never realized how small you were."
"Shut up. You're just freakishly tall."
As Xavier glances at you through his curtain of hair, you wrinkle your nose at him and then hop off the fountain siding less you do something to ruin the moment.
Like kiss him on the lips rather than the cheek.
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Spending the day with Xavier alone goes so much better than you had expected, so much so that you find yourself incredibly sad the day he is set to leave. It was clear to your entire family that something had shifted between the two of you when you'd come back home, hand in hand with a never-ending blush staining both your cheeks.
Enid was more than ecstatic and Wednesday took to sharpening her short swords whenever possible.
You're in the sunroom, clipping roses with your mother when Xavier walks in. In hand, he has a covered canvas.
"I have something for you," he tells you. "But I'm sure your mom is going to take ownership of it after she sees what it is."
You smirk at him, setting down your clippers and walking over to him. Your mother isn't far behind. "Did you paint me something?"
"I did." His hands dig into his pockets after his hands are free when you take the gift from him. You stare at the covered canvas, trying to figure out what it could possibly be. "You inspired me the other night and I just had to capture the moment."
You glance up at him, eyes narrowing though you continue to smile, and pull the cover off your painting. Your mother's delighted gasp is what makes you glance down and you're struck speechless.
The painting… is of you.
Specifically you dancing in the gazebo with the only color in the painting being that of your tutu.
"Xavier, this is…" You trail off, staring in awe. A moment passes and he brings the painting to life. Your mother starts to clap, even more delighted now as the miniature version of you dances away. "This is amazing. Thank you."
"I must show your father. This is just splendid." Your mother takes the painting, but not before gently grazing her nails along Xavier's jaw and smiling at him. "Thank you, young Mr. Thorpe."
"Y-You're welcome, Mrs. Addams."
Your mother sighs wistfully before glancing at the painting and then leaves the two of you alone. As soon as she's out of your sight, your hands are reaching for the lapels of Xavier's coat, his hands are clinging to your waist, and he's leaning down to meet you in a kiss.
You giggle when his hair falls forward to tickle your face and it makes Xavier smile.
"We really should have started this sooner," he says as he hesitantly straightens himself out. "I'm gonna miss you while I'm at Nevermore."
"What if… what if you didn't have to miss me?" You ask, your hands smoothing down the wrinkles you'd made on his coat.
"What?"
"What if I came to Nevermore?" He's quiet a little too long for your liking and you start to feel like maybe you read too much into whatever you two were. "Or not. I just thought-"
"Are you kidding me?" You barely manage to hold back a wince and Xavier's sudden laugh has you wanting to crawl into a hole. But when you chance a glance up at him, his expression is not what you were expecting. He's actually excited! "You're going to Nevermore?!"
You shrug, grinning sheepishly. "Mom's been talking to Principal Weems. I have a meeting with her in a couple of days to see whether or not I'll be a good fit."
"Hell yes." His smile is boyish and you can't help but giggle. "You'll make it in. I know it."
"I hope so. I love my parents, but they're not the greatest of teachers."
"You're gonna love it. I can introduce you to my friends and show you all the cool hang out spots. We can-"
"Xavier. Xavier!" You laugh, trying to talk over his excitement. "We don't even know if I'll get in."
"I'm telling you, you will. And if Principal Weems denies you, I'm pretty sure Wednesday will bug her until she grants you a place at the school."
"Oh. I forgot what going to school with a sibling was like." This time, you do wince. "People are going to dread another Addams roaming the halls, aren't they?"
"Some will." He grins. "But once they get to know you, they'll grow to like you."
You sigh but end up shaking your head in amusement. "If I do get in, how shocked do you think everyone will be if Wednesday's sister shows up dressed like Enid?"
"You'll confuse the hell out of everyone. Do it."
"I will. Now come on. We got away with one kiss. I have a feeling if another happens, a dagger will whiz by out of thin air."
"Xavier." The boy in question flinches as your sister pops up out of nowhere. "Your ride's here. Stop sucking my sister's face and go home. You'll see her soon enough."
He rolls his eyes, even as you laugh in the face of your sister's glare. "Always a pleasant encounter, Wednesday."
"Not really."
He huffs and glances back down at you, his gaze falling to your lips. But before he can get carried away, Wednesday's grunting and dragging him away. "Okay. Okay!" He laughs.
"You're gross. I never should have introduced you two."
You follow after them, trailing behind until you're standing under the archway of your front door. Wednesday pushes him down the steps and he walks to the car that Lurch is putting his suitcases in. He offers you one last look, one last smile, and one last wave before climbing into the vehicle his father had sent for him.
Once the car drives out of the gate, Wednesday turns towards you. "Are you happy?"
"Uh, yes?"
She quietly groans. "And here I was preparing Enid to hide a body in the family cemetery. She'll be let down that all that studying was for naught."
You bark out a laugh. "Stop corrupting Enid, Wednesday."
"Never." Her lips twitch in amusement. "Now come on. Let's go visit Principal Weems."
"But my interview is still a couple days away."
"So? She needs to be kept on her toes. She'll have to grow used to having two Addams' in her school."
"If you say so."
"I do."
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