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mntalbrakdown · 9 months

Text

sober thoughts - C. Fisher

masterlist!

mentions of: underage drinking, cussing, fluff, smut. MDNI. piv, unprotected sex, fingering

synopsis: you were once friends with conrad until summer happened and he just stopped talking to you

wc: 5.7k

“don’t ever forget me” your little twelve-year-old self whispered to Conrad who was a year older than you

“never,” he said playing with your hair as you both lay on the grass watching the fireworks on the fourth of July. your head laying on his chest.

“y/n are you almost ready” Belly yelled at you trying to get you to hurry up for the party you were about to go to with her and Taylor

“yes almost,” you say playing with your hair and making sure each strand is not misbehaving

“chill belly being hot takes time,” Taylor says applying more lip gloss

“anyways y/n how are you and Conrad” Taylor puts away her lip gloss in her purse

“he’s an ass and I don’t even talk to him,” you said

“What did you even do,” Belly asked playing with the ends of her hair

“I don’t know we were really close in Cousins and like two years ago in summer I started to get guys' attention and all of a sudden he got distant,” you said reminiscing the best summer of your whole life you told the girls you pulled 6 boys the whole summer but that came at a cost, losing the one guy you loved

“you had a glow-up,” Taylor says looking at you and holding your hand

“yeah, she did” you see Jeremiah at Belly’s door frame which made you smile. they've been flirting back and forth

“are we ready,” Belly asked and you nodded

you all headed downstairs to see Susannah and Laurel in the kitchen probably stoned and said goodbye to them. when you arrived at the car Belly called shotgun which meant you and Taylor would sit in the back of Jeremiah’s Jeep.

“so y/n you're the driver tonight right” Jeremiah looked at you from the rearview mirror

“when am I not” you scoff looking out the window. it wasn’t a rude remark it was a sarcastic one because you don’t really do any substances. so it was common sense that you would drive

everyone in Cousins lived close to one another so it didn’t take long to hear the loud music and the screams coming from a house. the house was already spilling bright colors on the street making you excited. when Jeremiah finally parked he handed you the keys because one time he held onto them and lost them. it was a whole ordeal, you spent an extra hour at the house trying to find them when he had them in a random coat that was hung up by the front door.

“hey Steven is here” Taylor pointed out to his car seeing that they also just got here.

“who’s that next to him,” Belly asks as you were getting out of the car looking at your phone for any new notifications when you accidentally bump into a tall stature

“oh sorry,” you both say looking at each other

"con what is wrong with you" you yelled at him. it was no use when he was in his own world he stayed there for at least a week. usually, you could get him out, but something was different that summer, you couldn't change him

"leave me alone" Conrad yelled at you, he was running up the stairs and the next thing you heard was his door closed shut. it was hard to miss, it echoed all over the house

"I'm so sorry for him," Susannah said.

the plan that day was to go watch a movie that was playing in the drive-in and then play at the beach with the whole group and watch the tide as you and Conrad listened to the music and possibly help you surf. but all that went down the drain and you didn't even know why.

“conrad” you say looking to meet his gaze.

“Conrad is here, y/n let’s go, no,” Taylor says screaming ready for you to get into the car making him laugh which you missed hearing

“Taylor it’s ok,” you say as she is getting out of the car with a stank face already plastered on

“hi Conrad,” she says moving her way in between the two of you and grabbing your hand to drag you to the party

as you were getting dragged into the party you were greeted by a group of people already by the door and a couple making out at the end of the hall

“hey I'm going to go get a drink” Taylor yells at you trying to get her voice to be heard over the music. you on the other hand were ready to go to the living room just to people watch

the thing was when you were at parties you would straight b-line to the living room because although people liked to conversate, that is the last place they would go. You liked to sit there and try to find other drivers there and you would make friends with them. It was hard to talk to a drunk person because they were boring and slur their words together. Today you saw Cameron, he is always there. You grew to like him like it was hard to anyway. He was so nice and you both had things in common.

"hey" you heard his little smile in his voice

"hi cam," you say receiving a bottle of water he got you

"so who are you here tonight with" cam asked you

"Jeremiah, Taylor, and Belly," you say

"so Conrad is still being weird," cam asked

"yeah," you said a bit disappointed. you told Cam everything because he was there and being sober at a party is pretty boring

"that's weird because he is staring at us," Cam says looking over at him; making you follow his gaze. Conrad had this weird look on his face, his eyes were dark, but it wasn't because of the lighting it was something else. hatred? you brushed it off he isn't your problem, never will be.

"y/n want to play uno" Conrad yelled at you from the bottom of the stairs.

Uno was your favorite game to play at Susannah's house in the summer. It was always perfect. The adults were never there so it would make you feel comfortable with everyone else. It was when you would sit next to Conrad before he was unavailable and you two would team up without everyone knowing. In reality, everyone knew. and you both would win. you would take turns on who would win to make it seem "less" suspicious.

"so" cam says snapping you from your haze

"right duh" you laugh grabbing the mini uno you would always carry it around because it helped you make friends with people

"ooo can we play" Some random girls joined in and you said yes because you had no real reason to say no, plus uno is best played with more than two

"I'll join too," Conrad says gripping his beer rather firmly. he sat next to you on the couch ready to get the cards you shuffled.

when the games began you kept beating everyone. the games were simple, leave the best cards until the very end, unless and only if you ever need them, then go for it.

bzzz bzzz

you quickly checked the notification that came from your phone trying to not miss what was going on in the game.

"who is it" conrad asks his jaw clenching

"no one," you say giving him a weak smile, it was also none of his business because he doesn't care about you anymore

"sure" Conrad says putting a plus four that is directed towards you. so this is how he wanted to play the game? you grabbed the four cards, getting nothing that would help you against him. it was Cam's turn and he put reverse to try to protect you from Conrad

"your little boyfriend is now your new buddy," Conrad questioned under his breath

"not like you give a shit" you retort back

"you are so clueless," Conrad says making you the most confused person at the party. you just continued to play after the game ended you decided you wanted a coke. so you got up and told Cam you would be back for another round

you walked through crowded groups and at one point you saw Belly makeout with Jeremiah. taking note of that to bring up later. You than saw Taylor with another man who looked like three years older than her. When you finally got your coke you opened it taking a sip going back to the couch

"oh fuck" you let out spilling some of the coke onto your white tube top.

"sorry" you hear a familiar voice come out it was Conrad.

"we have to stop doing this or else we might actually get hurt," you say smiling at the way Conrad was trying to get napkins to clean the mess up. It was no use. your shirt was ruined.

"it's the universe trying to get us together" Conrad blurted out "I'm drunk" he tried to fix the situation, but he was never drunk, he was only ever tipsy.

"drunk words are just sober thoughts" you say looking down at your shorts to see if they were dirty.

"can we talk" conrad asks looking down at you

"yeah" you smile at him

he grabbed your hand and led you outside to the front yard where there were only a couple of people out. he saw that the stain on your shirt only got worse so he gave you his button-up shirt that he never lets go of.

"what's up," you say to him

"the stars look beautiful don't they" conrad was looking up

as a kid, you were obsessed with the moon and the stars. you had a friend that was the stars to your moon. you missed her, and you kept in touch but if you could you would bring her to Cousins. you would always talk about her to the others, knowing they would love her as well. You also face-timed her all the time. Conrad would get mad, saying that you were his for the summer and that she has you all year round. that she was selfish

"it's my time," Conrad says to your friend who was on your phone screen

"con give me my phone," you say slapping him and tugging at his hand

"it's summer byeee" he says as he pressed the red button on the phone

"i hate you," you say to him

"in your sweet dreams you do," he says cockily

"Conrad I thought this was going to be more of a serious conversation," you say trying to shake the idea of the summers you once had with the man standing in front of you

"I miss you," he says to you. sober thoughts. it took you aback it wasn't something you expected from him

"that isn't my fault," you say back with an attitude

"i know, i just got jealous" he said to you

"jealous of what con" he could have grabbed you and kissed you on the spot. he missed that name from your mouth. he craved it every day to the point he would replay voice memos you would send to him back when you two would speak

"of other guys," he said looking into your eyes to see if he scared you off, but all he saw was your face brightening up

"you were the only person on my mind con," you said to him grabbing his hand. if this was a dream, never wake him up. "you were the only thing coming out of my mouth when I was at school, all the guys that you saw hit me up are left on seen, I wanted you, I want you, I always have" you say looking at his face finally tug at his lips to form a smile

"good because I don't want to share," he says leaning down ready to kiss you. As he did he wrapped one arm around your waist the other in your hair tugging at it as you were smiling through the kiss and your hands on both his cheeks.

"get a room" Steven yelled at you two, leading Conrad to release the hand that was in your hair and flipping him off. making you laugh while you both kissed.

"let's get out of here," Conrad said to you

"i can't," you said, you had a job

"fuck the others Steven can drive them," he said in a way that he just wanted you to be by his side

"but how will they get home" you try to reason

"Steven has his keys c'mon let's go to my house, please" he kisses the top of your forehead.

"fine, but if they complain that is your fault," you say pointing at him

"that is fine by me," he says carrying you to spin you around

as you two were getting in the Jeep you started to fasten your seatbelt as Conrad did the same. He looked over at you, seeing how you adjusted the mirrors to get all the angles.

"I think this is the first time I see you drive," he says admiring you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear

"get used to it con," you say looking at him, melting at his touch

"Oh I will" he whispered

you started the car, you hated driving the Jeep it was so big and excessive. But desperate times call for desperate measures. You played some music in the car for the six-minute car ride. you could feel Conrad's eyes on you the whole time, seeing how you turned and how you checked the mirrors.

as you arrive at their house you park the car and let him get out, you were collecting your things in the car to get out when Conrad opens the door for you.

"thank you" you smile, he closes the door behind you and you lock the car. he holds your hand as he heads over to the front door to open it

"hi conrad" you hear Susannah

"hi y/n nice seeing you two together again," Laurel says from the couch

"glad to be back" you smile at the two adults

"oh you are so beautiful, we missed you," Susannah said

"thank you I missed you too" you smile and let go of Conrad's hand to hug her. She was always so sweet to you

"Mom, she's mine back off, we're going to my room" Conrad says taking your hand again

"bye talk to you guys later" you scream as Conrad is dragging you upstairs

once you got upstairs you see Conrad's door. he opened it with his free hand and led you in. It was still the same. the beach aesthetic and the colors. He had the plush you gave him. it was an orange cat with a pink collar, you named it Lasnaga and you had an orange cat with a blue collar named Garfield. it was funnier when you actually named them.

"oh ignore that" he said looking at the cat

"you still have it" you question, a smile forming on your face

"yeah" it looked like he slept with it and he even still had the perfume you gifted him it was now half empty

"I miss you" you heard from the other line of your phone

"I miss you too," you say back, it was almost Christmas and it was a time when you wished you could go to Cousins, but your mom would say no. "I got you a Christmas present," you say smiling through the camera lens

"yeah, I got it, thank you" One of the gifts was a perfume bottle, it smelled like vanilla and it was your go-to scent "Thank you" Conrad says

"I don't use that scent anymore," you say picking it up

"what" Conrad looked defeated, he was spraying that scent to remember you and you switched scents. he felt betrayed

"I'll get you a new one for Christmas" You smile at him grabbing his hands which made his smile come back

"y/n" he grabbed your attention using his pointer finger to make you look at him

"yes con" one moment you were just staring at his eyes the next thing you knew Conrad was leaning in to kiss you. this kiss was more meaningful as if to pick up from lost time, from the time that was wasted on jealousy and insecurity, because even though it wasn't official that you were Conrad's, you both knew you were meant for one another

Conrad's hands went back to their respective place, one in your hair and the other around your waist. yours were on his cheek and the other in his hair.

"fuck I missed you," he says catching his breath from the kiss

conrad went back but deepened the kiss, it was something that made you happy. You kept smiling through the kiss. you couldn't believe this was happening. Conrad pulled at your hair to make you moan so he could slip his tongue in and fight for dominance, he obviously won; you were still smiling throughout the make out because you couldn’t believe what was happening. Conrad guided you to his bed, he sat on the corner making you straddle his lap.

"are you ok with this," Conrad asked pulling away from the kiss, you could see some of your lipstick on his mouth

"yes, god fuck yes Conrad," you say giggling at the way his face quickly erased his worriedness to pure excitement

Conrad continued his attack, but this time it was on your neck, making sure it would show to others that you were his, that even though people haven't seen you both together for almost two years, you guys are better than ever. Conrad tugged and took off the button-down that he gave you and the dirty tube top. You weren't wearing a bra underneath, and Conrad couldn't be more excited

Conrad carried you off the bed for a second and laid you down on his bed. your hair was perfectly sprawled on the pillow as if it made a halo. Conrad could’ve sworn he saw a little heart that was made from your hair. as you waited for Conrad to take his shirt you got the cat to play around with.

"you're so beautiful," Conrad says going down to kiss you

when he pulls away he takes off your shorts and shoes followed by your socks making you giggle at his fast antics. you were wearing a lace thong that was pink making Conrad smile.

"what's going on in that pretty head of yours,” you say reaching for Conrad's face as he melts into your touch, practically purring.

"you, you're all I think about" Conrad says smiling at you his hand traveling down to your thighs removing your panties too, and then he feels how wet you already are. he licked his two fingers as a lubricant and started to finger you. he slipped two fingers in seeing how tight you were and kept pacing in and out. you followed his fingers as they disappeared and reappeared. sucking on your bottom lip to not draw attention to his room. he looked at your face seeing how it contoured to the way the rhythm, then added more stimulation by massaging your clit.

"fuck Conrad, so good," you say almost screaming as you scratch his back with your nails

"shhh, look at me" Conrad says covering your mouth, but he loved the way your eyes looked at him "Sound so pretty but they can't hear you or the fun is over," he says leaning in to kiss you to muffle your screams.

Conrad soon leaves your mouth to go to your tits to suck on as you grab his hair for extra support. you tugged once and heard a yelp, making you want to fuck him already

he continued with his action. adding fingers as he goes. As he did you gasped, you kept your nails on his back almost drawing blood. conrad was circling your clit with his other hand to speed the process up. he needed you.

“god you’re so tight” he says looking at you with lust filled eyes

Conrad added a third finger as he saw you were about to release and reattached his lips onto yours wanting the fun to continue. he saw the way your body arched off the bed and made sure to continue the pace you were on. to make you orgasm

“look so pretty, come for me” he said spurring you on

“fuck conny” you say pulling at his hair to kiss you and something inside you snapped when he kissed you. you were leaking off his finger. when he looked down in between the two of you he saw the mess grabbing some of your liquid and putting it in your mouth

“fuck so hot” he said going in to kiss you tasting you as well

“my turn” you say with your fucked up makeup and some of your cum on the side of your mouth

“no i just really need you right now” conrad says taking his pants and underwear off as well as everything else.

“i want to be on top” you say to him biting the bottom of your lip

“whatever you want pretty girl” he says grabbing you and putting you on top of him

once you were on top of him you saw how big he was. you grabbed his member massaged him than started to glide him into your heat seeing how he threw his head back in pure pleasure

“stop teasing” he said grabbing onto your wrists and leading his length to your heat

“fuck fisher” you said mad he took all the fun out

“i’m trying to” he retorted making you laugh but that made you sink into him and turned into a loud pornagraphic moan making Conrad startled soon hearing footsteps leading to the door and a knock

“conny is everything ok” you could hear Susannah but this made the experience even better you fucked him up and down side to side to try to make it hard for him to answer his mom

“y-yeah everything is good there’s a porn scene on the horror movie we were watching- fuck” he said yelling to his mom

“oh ok” she says retreating backstairs

“you’re so dead” conrad said to you, but he never meant it. you looked so beautiful riding him as your boobs bounced up and down and saw how your hair was messily parted to the side and fell beautifully over your body. he knew you knew you looked great by the way you bit the bottom of your lip

“god you’re so big” you say looking down at him. putting your hand on his chest for extra support

he couldn’t help admire you. how your tits would go up and down and he had to massage them with his hand. the other was on your waist wanting you to go faster, but he just made your body lay against his as he took your lips with his teeth. his hand that was once on your tits went to your hair and tugged on it earning a low moan from you. the other traced his name on your back adding tickles to make you moan and hopefully come close. once he noticed your body become sloppy he held onto your waist and switched positions with him

“holy fuck that was hot” you said out loud to him

“only for you” he says leaning into your neck to suck on your sweet spot making you moan even more

he saw the way your hair fell back on his pillow. the image he once had of you will forever be tainted by this memory. the memory of him fucking you into oblivion. how his penis would go in and out of you seeing his length covered in white paint from the two of you

he didn’t know that you liked the way his hair fell from his forehead and floated in the air as he fucked you. how his arms would be veiny and how you followed them like a dog to bacon. that every time he wanted to show you something you just looked at his hands.

“fuck me harder” you said to Conrad as you dragged his face to yours to go in for a kiss. he took his free hand and started to massage your clit wanting you to come already.

“come for me again, want to see you come on my dick” he said so close to your face that his hair tickled you, his breath as well. “need you to come for me” his blue eyes following yours and how they were sparkling from pure euphoria

with one last thrust you came for him. his lips covering your mouth and when you were done moaning. his mouth was on your chin ready for another hickey. he nibbled at it. when his thrusts started to become sloppy you started to nibble at his ear. moaning in it to spur him on and saying sweet nothings like “god you’re so big” “taking me so good” “fuck me just like that”

“im yours conny, only yours” was the one that made him shoot his load into you

“oh fuck i’m so sorry” he said as he still kept thrusting into you coming down from his high

“don’t worry about it i’m on the pill” you say looking at his fucked out face and tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear

he leaned in to kiss you deepening the kiss he felt the cum that was leaking outside the two of you. when he was ready to let go you bit the bottom of his lip to see what he would do

“god you’re all i need” Conrad said going back to kiss you. when you both got out of breathe he went into his bathroom to get a cloth to clean you up

“you look beautiful from this angle” Conrad looked at you wanting to take a picture of the way your legs were open for him as the liquid oozed out of you

“get used to it” you said to him as he cleaned you up. he smiled at the thought that this wasn’t a one time thing

“oh i will” he says going to your face and peppering your face with kisses all over

he went over to a drawer he had always designated to you. it had some clothes that you left there when you would stay over. he handed you some shorts you always wore when you were here that did nothing but show your ass, but they were cute; they were white with pink polka dots and tossed you a shirt that was Conrad’s but you always used to use it because it was baggy and had your home state with it.

“i don’t want to wear that shirt today” you said

“what why” Conrad asked puzzled he didn’t do anything to that shirt

“you wear it, not in the mood to wear a shirt” you say to him mischievously. he took the hint as he was putting on some shorts and was ready to go under the covers of his bed making you follow behind

“than neither am i” he said kissing your forehead “some makeup wipes are on the nightstand by the way” he says pointing at the drawer next to you

“thank you” you say taking one and wiping your face off when you were done you threw it away in the trash can that was next to you

“so you never forgot me did you” you asked as you were going to cuddle his chest

“no never” he said looking down at you as he was turning the tv on to watch superbad one of your favorites

“and you never forgot about my things did you” you say giddily seeing what he was doing

“nope, i watched this every time i missed you” he said it as a matter of fact

“kiss me” you say out loud. and he did he leaned down to kiss you as you waited for the movie to load in. he was so delicate this time as if what he did was not him and someone else. that he would always be delicate with you

“you’re all i ever wanted” he said whispering it into you making you smile as the movie played.

you both laughed at the scenes. this movie has seen it all: your childhood, Conrad being by himself without you , and the two of you after you fucked each other. when another funny scene happened and you didn’t laugh Conrad looked down to see you asleep in his arms. your boobs were pressed against his chest and he decided it was time for him to go to sleep as well.

in the morning it was Conrad who woke up first from the rays of the sun. he then saw his clock and saw that it was only 9 am. he decided to just look at you sleep. how you would breathe and how you looked in his arms. the little smile on your face as your dream progressed. god he wished that was him making you smile. Conrad reached for his phone to take a picture of you. knowing this would be a perfect wallpaper. the way the hickeys he left on you were now visible. how you had no makeup but your hair was still as perfect as it was last night and this time noticing the locket necklace he got you from when you were kids on your thirteenth birthday

“thank you Conrad” you say hugging him once you finished opening the box that held the necklace. it was a picture of the two of you from when you were younger when you were both about seven and six.

“you’re welcome. you were practically begging for one all year” he said glad you liked his gift and ever since than you never took it off

he was infatuated with you.

“i’ll never forget you” Conrad whispered into your hair kissing the top of your head

“hey” you say in a raspy voice

“morning” he said back with a big grin on his face

“smells good” you could smell the muffins from downstairs. making Conrad laugh. he looked at you for about thirty minutes admiring you and the first thing you think about is food? “you look pretty con” you said kissing his lips. his hair was messy and his eyes were brighter today. he looked happy.

“so do you” he said smiling at you. if only you knew.

“what time is it” you ask finally rubbing your eyes. when you were done Conrad gave you his phone to look at the clock but the first thing you saw was you. the photo he took this morning. “con did you take this right now” you asked looking into his eyes

“yes do you like it” he asked looking to see if you were mad but he only saw a smile form on your face

“it’s cute i need one now too” you say trying to let go of his grip to get up and get a muffin

“no stay” he says grumpy

“i need one of those muffins, i’ll come back” you say prying at his hands

“fine i’ll race you” he says getting up and trying to find a shirt as you do the same when you did. you ran out the door fighting Conrad downstairs almost falling like ten times.

“woah” you here from downstairs

“i thought we were going to go into war right now” Jeremiah joked

“shut up” Conrad said hitting Jeremiah’s chest

“oh hey y/n didn’t know you were still here” Laurel said

“yeah I accidentally fell asleep to superbad” you say which wasn’t a lie. it was hard to lie to Laurel she could smell bullshit from a mile away.

“wait what happened between you guys” Taylor asked looking at your neck making you hide your hickeys with your hair

“nothing, we just made up” you said looking at her and the last muffin

“more like made out” Belly added which made you send her a death stare which caused you to lose the muffin to Conrad

“fuck you” you whisper to him

“oh but you already did” he said with the most shit eating grin you’ve ever seen as he eats the muffin. when you hit his stomach he hands over the muffin with a loud groan

“thank you” you say kissing him

“eww get a room” Jeremiah said

“we just came out of one” Conrad said as quick as the speed of light making you look at him with wide eyes

“I missed this” Susannah said “y’know ever since you left y/n he has never been this chipper”

“is that so” you say looking at Conrad all this time you thought he was fine especially with all the girls he dated

“so true” Steven added

“we missed you” Belly said. she meant it in the way you could finally be in the same room as all of them without having to walk on eggshells “also Cam told me to give you this” it was your uno cards from the other night

“thank you” you smile at her

“give me another bite” Conrad said as he wraps his arms around your waist and you practically feed him “thank you” he said which followed by an mhm coming from your mouth

“want to go to the beach later” you asked looking up at him to see if he would agree or not

“sure” he replied. making you already excited and smiling back at the muffin before taking a bite and feeding another piece to Conrad

“can we go at night” he questioned

“and skinny dip” you whispered for only him to hear which made him already look forward to see the moon.

“this is seriously cute” Taylor says to Belly who nods

“i love you” Conrad said to you kissing the top of your head as he saw how everyone was so welcoming of the new couple

“i love you more” you say looking up at him which made him kiss you

—-

a/n: part two..??

3K notes · View notes

love-that-we-were-in · 24 days

Text

lighting the fuse might result in a bang

pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.

author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3

When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes.

“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.”

“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.”

Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.

The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.

There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see.

Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party.

Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly.

“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.”

“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”

She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.”

You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets.

“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”

“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”

“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.”

“Whose?”

Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.

While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead.

Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.

The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick.

“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?”

“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”

There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table.

Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game.

It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win.

Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet.

Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.

Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.

“Are you about to be a sore loser?”

He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.”

It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond.

“Then expect to lose.”

The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more.

Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this.

Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night.

“Why aren’t you ready?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.”

“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?”

In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.

It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way.

When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around.

Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap.

You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more.

“Fancy a rematch?”

It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose.

“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?”

There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.

You stay put.

“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.”

“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.”

It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.

“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I��m easy.”

“How many beers have you had?”

“Three, I think?”

Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you.

So you say it anyway.

“I bet I could outdrink you.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition.

The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight.

By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.

“You guys doing okay?”

“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.”

“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.”

“Are you going to?”

He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?”

The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.

“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.”

Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.”

It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head.

You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once.

By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.

Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.

It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.

“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.

With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch.

Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest.

There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building.

But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.

So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting.

There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again.

Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms.

“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”

Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.”

You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway.

You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.

“Mind if I join you?”

Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.

No one told you Luke smokes.

You tell him as much.

“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.”

“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.”

He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.”

It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system.

“You ever blown a smoke ring?”

If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now.

“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?”

“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes.

“We can share.”

It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea.

“You’re on, Castellan.”

As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.

Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular.

Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.

You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.

You aren’t as drunk anymore.

You really wish you were.

It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you.

“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close.

“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.

What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby.

You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen.

“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.”

He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.

His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.

Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.

“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.”

“I know you hooked up with Luke.”

“Seriously?”

She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.”

“You bet on it?”

“Of course we did, it’s our brand.”

“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.”

“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”

When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight.

The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy.

It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend.

You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.

Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight.

If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does.

And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.

“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”

“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?”

“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t.

“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”

It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it.

“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter.

Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan x you #🖊️ abi writes…

630 notes · View notes

ohdeerfully · 2 months

Note

hello there!

was wondering if I could request Alastor and reader having a debate over whether radio or the newspaper is better than the other (reader was a journalist in 1930’s New York in their past life). Heated debate that ends with fluff.

thank you!❤️❤️

hi thanks for the request!! honestly it doesnt really end with fluff, more just alastor being confused and also confusing, and im super sorry for that :sob: but i hope u enjoy it anyway!!! kiss kiss

What Would the Papers Say

Alastor x Reader (not explicitly romantic)

TW: none! join my discord!

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Alastor stood in front of you, a tight smile and narrowed brows decorating his face as he stood ominously over you. You swallowed, hard, as you had to crane your neck significantly to look him in the eyes. He waited impatiently for your words, his smile inching to become larger and more sinister by the second.

You took a deep breath and steadied your gaze against his, staring into his maliciously red eyes.

“Why can’t you just admit your wrong,” You said snidely, “The newspaper reached so many more people. And gave more people jobs. And was just better in general, really.”

Alastor laughed at you with closed eyes, something he would tend to do in arguments. He liked to make the other person feel ridiculous.

“How wrong that is!” He snapped back, eyes settling on you again. “My dear, the radio had much more value. Could your rolls of paper play music? Speak to people? All I see is a boring, colorless, dry wad of useless writing.”

You balled your fists in anger, restraining yourself from getting physical. You wouldn’t be able to land anything, anyway, so there was no point in trying.

“That ‘useless writing’ was my life’s work, you dick!” You spat, heart clenching slightly at the thought of him considering something so important to you useless. “Some people don’t like to listen to an annoying asshole yap in their ear for forty minutes!”

Alastor waved his hand dismissively at your attempt at an insult, his smile never faltering in the slightest. If anything, it grew wider when he saw your growing frustration. “But more people like listening to the asshole’s stories than reading the drab paper, no? News travels so much faster verbally! Why else do you think the paper lost popularity after the radio was introduced?”

You lost any response you had, eyes falling to the floor in defeat. Your stomach churned with unease, hating that you were losing an argument to Alastor. Yeah, it was hard to win against him in the first place, but it still pissed you off.

“At least we had fun comics to read…” You muttered in a weak attempt at a retort, folding your arms.

Alastor only barked a laugh in response, stepping forward and grabbing your chin with his sharp claws to tilt your eyes back up to him. He wanted to see your eyes glimmer with defeat, it was something he loved to see when he beat somebody in an argument—especially over something they were so passionate about.

However, his smile weakened by a hair when he saw your eyes, slightly shining with held back tears. You still had a look of frustration and you were confidently staring right back at him, but for once… he didn’t really like the look of miserable defeat. Not on you.

Alastor’s grip on your chin dropped so fast, as if you burned him, and his eyes darted away from yours. His brows were furrowed in what you perceived as confusion, but the expression vanished nearly as soon as you recognized it.

“Agree to disagree, then,” He said finally, looking back down at you through slitted eyes. He turned with a dramatic flourish, briskly walking away. He turned his head slightly towards you as he spoke one last time, “though, the radio’s never been used for fire kindling.”

Alastor did not like the way you made him feel. He didn't like that your grief made his own emotions go haywire. He was going to find out what it was about you that made him feel... weak, was it? He wasn't sure, but he just needed to get out of there.

You cursed at him, though he paid your words no mind. You could tell by the way his ear flicked in your direction that he had at least heard your frustrations. You finally let your confident face fall, and with a pout you traveled towards the hotel lobby. You needed a drink.

“Bold to argue with Alastor like that,” Husk gruffly commented as you sat down, slumping your shoulders. His arms were folded over his chest, and you awkwardly rubbed your arm.

“You heard all that?”

“You aren’t exactly the quietest.”

You sighed, resting your head against your palm and drumming your free hand against the bartop. “That’s embarrassing,” You said simply, chewing on the inside of your cheek. It wasn’t uncommon for racket in the hotel, but you typically held yourself to a higher standard than being the cause of said racket.

Even though you were upset about the argument, you couldn’t help but visualize that expression on his face when he looked at you earlier. What was that? Concern? Regret? Or were you just reading too much into it? And why did he leave the room so quickly?

You pondered over this as Husk slid a drink over towards you, the glass leaving a watery trail from building condensation. You gave him a small smile and silently sipped at it for a few minutes.

You tried to tell yourself you didn’t care one way or another what those emotions Alastor displayed were. He was a jerk. He put you down for what you were passionate about, and what you had dedicated your life too. What a dick. You didn’t care. Nope.

With a groan, you tilted your head back to finish the glass and nodded a thanks to Husk again before you made your way up the hotel stairs. Without realizing it, your legs seemed to take you to a particular floor and to a particular room that you would’ve rather avoided. You briefly wondered how strong that drink was that Husk gave you.

You held your fist up, paused for a few seconds, and then knocked. Why were you even here in the first place? You weren’t going to apologize. You opened the door yourself when you heard a faint ‘come in,’ slowly pushing it forwards and cracking it open just enough to peek your head through. Your eyes trailed around the room before you finally saw the demon in a bayou-like setting.

Alastor was sitting leisurely on a metal chair, one leg thrown over the other as he sipped on a mug. His eyes were barely open as he relaxed, and you could only slightly tell that he was looking at you.

“It’s rather impolite to interrupt somebody’s alone time,” He quipped as you walked the rest of your body into the room. “Especially somebody you pestered and yelled at only an hour ago.”

You bit back an angry comment, and kept your breathing level. You shouldn’t let him get under your skin like this. You clenched your fists, but otherwise maintained a cool attitude. You walked towards the corner of the room, examining the scenery before you. You wondered if the forest was actually that big, or if the wall was just an extremely well illustrated illusion. It wouldn’t surprise you if Alastor was eccentric enough to manifest a whole bayou in his own room.

Alastor looked up at you from his seated position, though he still seemed incredibly tall even as he sat. He had a grin spread across his face, and his head tilted slightly at you.

“Need something?” He tried prompting a word out of you. You hadn’t said anything since coming in, and curiosity began gnawing at his thoughts. He was frustrated, truthfully, about the earlier experience he had with his own confused, jumbled thoughts.

You honestly didn’t know why you came to his room. You didn’t really know what to say. You weren’t going to apologize or grovel for forgiveness, and you knew he would never ever admit he was wrong, either.

“You know,” You started slowly, voice just above a mutter. “The newspaper and radio could’ve worked together… one doesn’t have to be better than the other.”

Both grin and eyes widened at your comment. A wave of Alastor’s hand materialized an identical chair across the table, and you sat yourself neatly—and, a bit awkwardly—when he gestured for you to join him.

“What a thought,” He replied, bringing the mug to his lips again. His comment didn’t really give you any insight to what he actually thought about your statement. Though, you should’ve guessed. He has a superiority complex so big he would never admit to anything being on an equal level to him.

Still, you smiled weakly at him. You watched as his gaze studied you, maybe a bit too intently, and you momentarily saw that strange expression shift across his features. Just as before, you barely had time to consider it before it vanished.

“Tell me,” Alastor said, leaning back into his chair. A mug manifested in front of you as he spoke, and with a smell you could tell it was your favorite tea. You wondered if he actually knew, or if it was just something he could do magically. “If you are so keen on the radio and paper working together…”

He paused dramatically, and you clenched your jaw in response. How aggravating his knack for showmanship could be.

“Would you care to make a deal?” There was a sinister look in his eyes as he said the words, his grin twisting up his face with his sharp teeth bared at you. You felt a prickling at your neck, a bit uncomfortable.

“I don’t really… want you to have my soul, dude,” You responded, fiddling your fingers around the rim of the mug in front of you.

That sinister expression lightened, and he cheerfully waved a hand at you. “No, no, no,” He laughed, leaning forward and letting his elbows rest against the table. “No soul contract. Just… say, a mutually beneficial partnership. Radio Demon and Newspaper Demon. Interesting, right?”

“I… guess,” You replied slowly, considering it. Hey, if your soul wasn’t involved, what was the big deal? How much power could Alastor hold over you if he didn’t have your soul?

A lot, probably.

You shrugged. “Sure, deal.”

Immediately after your response, a shining sheet of paper and an outdated quill appeared in front of you. You eyed Alastor warily as you took the sheet, reading over the terms of your deal. Honestly, it didn’t seem that bad. It only really iterated your loyalty to him, and in return he’d give you the same.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this was a weird attempt at courting you. Weird.

Your eyes moved back to Alastor, who was watching you intensely. He had that strange expression once again, and it was starting to frustrate you. Why did he keep looking at you like that? And what did it mean? The room was silent for a few moments, save for the flickering noise of the ever-present radio frequency that followed the demon in front of you.

You took the quill, signed, and after a dramatic flash of light the paper was gone and you saw Alastor sitting with his eyes closed in an overly pleased smile. He clapped his hands together for a moment, before settling his sharp gaze on you once again.

“Well, my dear,” He leaned his chin on top of his hands, which were clasped together. He had a dangerous glint in his eye. “Mind if I take you for lunch to celebrate our new partnership?”

#ohdeerfully #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #deals with alastor r always fun

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storiesforthemoonchild · 1 month

Text

Mi Luna Llena | Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

wrote this like a week ago bc I was listening to Luna by Aitana on repeat, but then forgot to post it... enjoy!

“Please don’t cry. If you cry then I’ll cry,” you plead, using the pad of your thumb to wipe the lone tear falling down Aitana’s cheek. She gives you a pitifully sad forced smile, trying her best to keep herself together.

“I will miss you,” she chokes out, her voice laced with emotion. “Only two months?” She knew the answer, it had been the same routine for the last eight months you’d been touring, gone for two months and back for two weeks.

Still you nod, wishing you could comfort her and tell her that time would fly by this time but you can’t. Even one night felt like a lifetime when she wasn’t in your arms. “I’m always here,” you poke softly at her heart, a reminder that even far apart you were hers.

Aitana’s head falls to your shoulder, unable to keep the tears from flowing freely any longer, but she didn’t want you to see. She knew you would feel guilty and that’s not what she wanted. Leaving was always hard on both of you. It hadn’t been easy getting to this place in your relationship, and now that you were the constant distance was your biggest obstacle.

You met Aitana years ago through a mutual friend after coming to Barcelona for University. You were studying music and Aitana was just beginning to break into the Barcelona ranks. It was an unconventional friendship in the beginning, but she was focused, hungry, determined, and that’s exactly why you both got on so well, you shared the same level of passion for your dreams. Despite your late night insomnia that kept you up writing until the morning hours while she prioritized her sleep next to you, the bond you created couldn’t be broken.

The beginning of your adulthood was all spent with Aitana. It was always the two of you, for every label rejection and the smallest of injuries where she was convinced her career was over. You cheered the loudest in the stadium when she scored her first Barcelona goal. She was the first call you made when the record deal finally came, and she scrambled to prepare a celebration between her busy schedule. The beach was always the place you two would go together to regroup and escape reality, it made you fall in love with Barcelona, the people, the culture…Aitana.

However, Aitana hadn’t always been yours to love. Time was never your friend in that category. The moment you would get close to playing her the song she’d excitedly tell you about the new person she was seeing that you had no previous knowledge about. You’d go away for a while after the news, a need to explore in order to create your excuse each time. You’d find solace in the arms of another, but they weren’t as warm as Aitana and their smile not as bright. You’d come back convinced that as long as she was treated well and happy that you also were happy.

It was a vicious cycle that went on for years, one of you always accompanied by someone else. You found yourself away from Barcelona for an extended period, at a point that may have been your darkest. Your return only came by way of your first concert in the place that made your career, she promised to be there.

It wasn’t planned, but when you saw her… for the first time in months and amongst a sea of people, as usual she was brightest. You knew it was now or never for you, so in front of 18,000 people you sang to her. After years of friendship and hopeless pining on both sides, you didn’t have to tell her the song was about her, she knew. Your eyes not leaving hers for a single note as you watched the tear fall from her eye when she got the confirmation the song was indeed about her.

Mi luna llena, you sang, the nickname you gave her early in your friendship on one of your late night trips to the beach. A cheesy line about how she reminds you of the full moon because even when it’s dark she was your light. She called you cheesy and shoved you away but not before a deep blush stained her cheeks and that was enough for you to make sure the nickname stuck.

“I’ll be kissing you back in my dreams,” Aitana mumbles into your now damp shirt, referencing a line in the song she now deemed hers, and it certainly was. Her body pressed tightly in yours as you stroke her back to calm her still trembling frame. She leans back searching for your eyes when you remain quiet, and kisses at the silent tears you had let fall. “Lo siento, do not cry.”

You give her your best smile, “I don’t like to see you upset. This is the last one,” you say, trying to give a little hope in the fact that this was the last stretch of the tour.

“Until the next one,” she bluntly says from her place on top of you, scrunching her face in disappointment of something that’s not even close to being a thought let alone a plan. She buries her head into your neck this time, and you feel the fresh tears coating it.

You’re silent for a moment, allowing her words to sink in and giving you a chance to try and think of a reply. “Maybe not,” the announcement grabs all of her attention as her puffy eyes search for yours in the darkness once more. “Maybe I’ll quit music, follow you around everywhere, wear your name on my back and be the perfect little wag.”

It earns you a soft giggle and it feels like a win to you. Aitana connects your lips softly, “sí, that’s perfect. No me dejes más.”

“Even if I leave I will always come back. You are my light Aitana.” You trace the little freckles on her face, watching as the first genuine smile of the night graces her face.

“Say it,” she demands, shaking her body playfully against yours.

“I love you,” you whisper and she stares at you expectantly, wanting to hear the nickname she once called cheesy but now couldn’t live without hearing. “Mi luna llena.”

“I love when you say it,” she grins teasingly. You blush still a bit bashful about the fact you wrote the song about your friend years before confessing your love. "Only think of me when you sing it," she requests.

"I always only think of you," you half shrug like it's the most obvious thing, and to you it is. Aitana consumed your thoughts especially when you were apart.

Aitana chuckles, always amused by your quick affectionate responses. "Te amo mucho, mi vida," she whispers finally as the emotions settle and you both relax in one another's hold. Distance was hard, and there will always be tears before you separate, but you both knew you'd come back together soon enough.

#aitana bonmati #aitana bonmati x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #barca femeni x reader #aitana bonmati imagine

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headkiss · 1 year

Note

anna <3 honey <3 hiii <3 i have a request if you’re up for it?

inspired by your latest shy!reader x eddie fic where it’s her first day at hawkins high— shy!reader being all heart eyes for eddie who pretty much worships the ground she walks on but somehow is oblivious to her feelings even though he flirts constantly just to see her get flustered. he doesn’t notice she’s only all sweet and giggly and nervous around him, though. she’s generally extremely shy so eddie figures that’s why, but it’s truly because she’s head over heels for him 🥹 a cutesy friends to lovers

harmonia my love !!! thank u sm for requesting i hope u like it this one’s for u <333 (the other shy!reader blurb) | 0.7k of fluff and shy!reader

You walk the unfamiliar halls in search of your next class. So far, unsuccessfully.

There’s a debate in your head: is it more embarrassing to be late to your class because you couldn’t find it, or to ask for directions like you’re a tourist in a new city?

You figure that embarrassing yourself in front of a class full of people is much, much worse than just one person. The next part is just figuring out who to ask.

Deciding to avoid any groups (even looking at them makes your heartbeat jump a little), you scan the hall for anyone that looks approachable.

For some reason, you land on the boy with long, dark curls and a tattoo of bats on his forearm. Yeah, super approachable. He’s alone, leaning next to what you’re guessing is his open locker.

You force your feet to carry you towards him.

“Sorry, could you maybe tell me where English is?”

“Wha- oh.” Eddie turns around to find you, a face he's never seen—a pretty one, at that—talking to him of all people. “Hi. Yeah, why don’t I walk you?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Your voice is soft, quiet enough that Eddie probably wouldn’t have heard you if he wasn’t so focused on listening.

“Who’s your teacher?” You tell him, and he smiles, “me too. See, I’m going there anyway. It’s no problem.”

It’s then that you’re hit with the realization of how attractive he is. His eyes and the lashes that frame them, the smile that’s extra sweet compared to his style, the guitar pick that hangs from a chain around his neck.

The best you can do then is nod, untucking your hair from behind your ears to try and hide your face.

“So, why’d you move to Hawkins?” He asks, shutting his locker and nodding for you to follow him.

“Um, for my mom’s work.”

“Yeah? Do you like it here?”

“It’s different.”

You stick to short answers, not because you don’t want to give him better ones, but because you’re terrified of doing something you’ll kick yourself over for days.

“That’s one way of putting it,” he says, sending you a wink.

You laugh softly, a girlish giggle. It’s music to his ears, and he plans to draw the sound from you again and again.

You nod, looking down at your feet in the silence that follows, unsure how to fill the gaps. In your distraction, you bump shoulders with someone. A boy, probably an athlete, because it’s enough to knock you into Eddie.

He holds your upper arm gently to steady you, his hand warm, his rings cool.

“Sorry,” you say quickly.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. You okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

Despite your answer he keeps his hand where it is. He’s not dragging you along, nor is his hold tight. It’s so soft that you peek down at your shoes again to hide the look on your face.

Eddie thinks he might have dreamt you up. You in your sweet dress and mary-janes. You with a small smile he wants to see widen. He thinks you’re adorable, and he plans to keep talking if only to make you cutely flustered again.

He drops his hand from your arm when you make it to the door of your classroom to hold an arm out welcoming you inside. You miss the warmth of it.

You sit down at the back of the class, in the corner closest to the windows, hoping it’s not somebody else’s spot.

Eddie follows you and sits atop of your desk until the bell rings.

The teacher walks in and seems to notice Eddie’s presence right away, “Munson, what are you doing in my class?”

“I thought you had this class?” You whisper. He sends you a wink in return.

“Just visiting, sir,” he says, standing up and letting the attention fall on him. He can tell you’d be uncomfortable if it was on you more than it already is as a new student. Besides, he’s used to it, even if it’s usually in a negative way.

“Get to your own class, won't you?”

Eddie salutes, strolling to the door seemingly without a care at all. You watch him the whole time, and just before he turns the corner, he looks over his shoulder and smiles at you.

Did he really lie about being in your class just so you’d let him walk you? You sink down in your chair and smile at your desk.

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gracieheartspedro · 7 months

Text

Crave

Part 3 of "How Long"

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

find part 1 and 2 here!

dedication: @jenispunk <3 I love you sm jen. thank you for always supporting my writing and being the best wife a girl could ever dream of. you make my heart so happy. thank you for helping me edit and being the first to read this and encouraging me no matter what! love you love you love you!!!

description: a weekend escape with joel and sarah, kinda. the bed situation is a little confusing. luckily you and joel make it work. when sarah's not around, of course.

word count: 5.5k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING AGAIN, dirty talk, daddy kink (aha), hotel sex?, begging? lmao I think that's it.

author's note: finally. it's here. I feel like I've been staring at this doc for 7 years. thank you all for your patience. I want to continue this series but I have to sit down and really brainstorm what I'd like the next parts to be. let me know your thoughts! THANK YOU FOR READING!

“My favorite Millers!”

Your face was beaming, seeing Joel hop out of his truck with Sarah in tow. The truck was still running, the diesel engine chugging louder than any truck you had been in before. Joel always had a nicer, newer truck. He made great money and he was always having to go into construction zones that needed an all terrain vehicle. They always got pretty banged up with dirt and rocks, but he took excellent care of the interior.

Joel grabs both of your bags, taking them to the backseat where Sarah would be crammed in with all the luggage. You give him a nod, silently thanking him. Sarah wraps her arms around your waist, giggling with excitement.

“I’m so happy you’re coming with us! It’s going to be a great weekend,” She explains while you two walk over to the tall truck. You always found climbing into a truck unnatural and awkward yourself, but it was hot watching Joel hop in with ease. You agree with Sarah, all the while opening up the door for yourself. Sarah springs up to her seat, and you struggle to crawl up into the cab. It makes Joel chuckle.

“I’m making you lift me into this thing next time,” you joke, easing back into the fabric seats, “Especially since you think watching me struggle is funny.”

Joel looks back in the rear view to see if Sarah’s paying attention, “‘s no problem at all, darlin’. I will gladly help you next time.”

You knew he was flirting. It makes your stomach bubble with excitement. He makes sure you two are buckled and starts on the two and half hour journey to Houston. Once you leave your neighborhood, Sarah taps your shoulder and holds out her new CD player. It’s purple and covered in sparkly stickers.

“Looks like your Dad is supplying you with all the ways to listen to music,” you observe, glancing over at Joel. He’s just watching the road, one hand on the steering wheel, the other propped up on the shifter. He looks younger, the dusk sky the perfect back drop for his pronounced nose and beautiful eyelashes. You couldn’t help but stare, even as Sarah’s talking your ear off. He just nods along to her, making sure she knows she’s heard.

“Think I’m gonna listen to my Kelly Clarkson CD this time,” Sarah explains, putting her earphones over her voluminous curls, “So don’t try to talk to me!”

You and Joel giggle, shaking your heads at her comment. It’s not like you were the one’s talking before, you both think.

It gives you both a moment without a kid’s ears nearby.

“How was the rest of your work week?�� He asks, tapping the shifter to the soft hum of the radio.

“Boring,” You mumble, “Think one of the guys in marketing has a crush on me and he’s making it impossible to avoid him. I can’t even go to the break room without him bothering me.”

You didn’t know why you felt the urge to tell Joel about the situation. It wasn’t even a real situation, it was just an annoying thing happening in your life.

“Hmph,” he ponders for a moment, “Want me to kill him?”

His tone is serious, but you know he’s just messing. You grin, nudging his arm with your elbow gently, ensuring it doesn’t move the steering wheel.

“My hero,” You comment as you watch a smile crack across his face, “No, thank you, though. If it starts to get to stalker status, I will call you.”

“Seems like stalkin’ already, baby girl.”

The nickname makes your stomach flip. You purse your lips, contemplating his words. Sure it was creepy, but the guy was scrawny and you could probably snap him in half with two fingers. He had nothing to really worry about. Right?

Joel steals a glance over at you.

“Maybe, but I’ll handle it.”

You wanted him to think you were strong enough to deal with unwanted attention, but to be honest, you weren’t sure how to say no to most men. You only ever had Tommy and he scared everyone away. Now everyone around town knew you were on the market, and men were drawn to your natural beauty and somewhat sassy attitude.

Little did they know, you were hung up on the other Miller boy.

“You let me know if you need me to talk to him,” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road, just reaches his right hand out to rest on your thigh, “Man to man.”

His hand is so warm, you feel it through your black leggings. He was almost always like a furnace, but it was okay, because you always ran cold. But every time he touched you, you felt that warmth trail up your arms and legs. He made you feel different. Every fiber of your being became electrified when he was around. It was a sensation you never noticed when you were with Tommy. You begin chalking it up to just being nervous because he was older and larger and… well, hotter.

“Again, my hero,” you respond sarcastically, letting your hand rest on top of his. It makes him more confident, gently massaging that area. You watch as his hand creeps closer and closer to the crack between your legs. You practically gasp at the contact, but you catch yourself before you do, remembering there’s a child behind you.

So you smack his hand away, shooting him a glare.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothin’ just… sorry.”

You didn’t want him to pull away, your leg already missing his touch, but you knew what would happen if you did stuff like that in front of Sarah. She’s a teenage girl. She’ll talk. It’ll find it’s way to someone’s ears.

You wanted to act like you didn’t care if Tommy found out, but deep down you knew it would be a disaster. You didn’t feel like being the talk of the town. You didn’t feel like explaining yourself to Tommy. You didn’t feel like watching Joel deal with the flack from his family, especially his mother.

If you two wanted to continue this… game… you would have to keep it secret. That included keeping it away from Sarah’s eyes and ears. You and Joel would just be friends. You would just be her aunt. That’s it.

“Don’t apologize,” You whisper, “Just not here.”

You two let the radio take over the rest of the trip, occasionally chatting about a song or what the newscaster says about the weather. Once you get into Houston, it’s already 8:30 at night. Joel pulls into the parking garage to the Marriot and you already start craving the bed that awaits you inside.

“I call the bed near the window!” Sarah throws her stuff down, jumping straight onto one the huge queen size duvet. The room was nice. A large television set catches your eye immediately, proving that this was probably an expensive room if they were giving you free cable tv. The curtains were open, giving a beautiful view of Houston’s skyline.

One thing you notice, too, is the fact that there was only two beds. You knew this, but it still made your stomach sink a bit.

You realize you three hadn’t discussed the sleeping situation. You didn’t care where you would sleep, honestly. You just knew Sarah was a restless one, having slept next to her in a tent when she was 9. Family camping trips entailed you, Tommy, Joel, and Sarah sharing a 6 person tent and being absolutely miserable the whole entire time. Between Tommy’s snores and Sarah practically flailing all around the tent at night, you remember not getting a lick of sleep.

“Go get a shower, Sarah. We will figure out who’s sleeping where.”

She groans at Joel, like usual.

“Dad!”

“Shower,” he throws his bag down on the ground near the dresser, “No arguin’.”

Sarah sulks, her bag in hand, straight to the bathroom by the front door. You don’t say anything. You just start following Joel’s lead by putting your bags down next to his. You stand a bit too close to him, waiting for him to say where you’d be sleeping.

He clears his throat, “I will take the recliner, if you want the bed.”

“Of course I want the bed, but I don’t want you to have to sleep in the recliner.”

It makes him laugh, how matter-of-fact you are.

You hear Sarah start up the shower. You wouldn’t have to fear she hears you and Joel talk about the possibility of sleeping with one another. Again.

“It’s not a big deal,” He explains, unzipping his bags to grab his pajamas, “Sleep on the couch all the time.”

“But you have a nice plush couch,” You gesture towards the hard and structured looking recliner, “That doesn’t look comfortable at all.”

For a girl who didn’t want Joel touching you in the car, you were practically begging him to sleep next to you in the big comfortable hotel bed.

“So, where do you want me to sleep?”

“Just take the bed.”

“But you want the bed.”

You swallow, not even looking up at him, “We both can have the bed.”

He’s silent, gripping onto his sweatpants and t-shirt. He slowly looks down at you, his eyes carry a curious glint in them. You cock your head, giving him a mischievous smirk.

“You and Sarah?”

“No, you and Sarah.”

He groans, “You are a fuckin’ tease.”

You giggle, watching him brush pass you to position himself close to the closet. He opens the closet door, slipping in like he’s looking for something in there.

“What are you doing?”

“Changin’.”

“In the closet?”

He grabs his shirt from the nape of his neck and pulls it off smoothly. You can’t peel your eyes away, partially seeing his right peck from how he’s standing. It was like the morning after having sex with him. Your eyes were glued to him, his tanned skin practically asking to be touched and licked.

You horny bitch.

“Joel, get out of the closet.”

He chuckles, “Why? You want me to give you a show?”

Why yes, I really do, Joel. You think to yourself. You hum a response, peeling your eyes away. You needed to find your pajamas, a pair of Nike sports shorts and a black tank top. Lately, you’ve been sleeping completely naked, but that was obviously not an option here.

Sarah finally leaves the bathroom as soon as Joel slides his pants up. She has her hair wrapped in a towel, which makes you smile. She looked so grown up, it’s hard to believe you met her when she was 6 years old. You wordlessly walk into the bathroom, beginning to change your outfit for your sleep wear. You splash some cold water on your face, your cheeks still blushed from seeing Joel shirtless.

You hear the door outside open and close. You peak out, your traveling clothes wrapped up in your arms. Joel stands in the middle of the room, fiddling with the remote for the TV.

“Where did Sarah go?” You question, packing your clothes back into your duffle.

“She wanted to go get ice from the ice machine,” He grumbles, “Said she wanted to see if any of her teammates were awake or nearby.”

“Is her whole team staying here?”

“Yeah, pretty much every team gets a floor. Last year it was a like a huge sleepover. Fuckin’ nightmare,” Joel mutters, flicking through different channels, before landing on some westerns. You smirk, deciding to plop down on one of the beds. As soon as you lay back, Sarah comes back in, bucket in hand.

“Can I go stay in Amelia’s room? Her mom is there, just two doors down.”

Well that solves the bed problem.

Joel rolls his eyes, you can tell he’s already annoyed. “Is Amelia’s mom okay with that?”

“You want to go talk to her? I promise Dad, we will get up at 5:30 like we need to. Pleas-”

“Let’s go talk to Amelia’s mom.”

You hear them leave the room without saying anything else.

You were tired from a long day at work and the long drive. But some excitement blooms in your stomach when you realize it may just be you and Joel, all alone in a hotel room.

Before you have time to ponder all the wonders that may be in store for you, Joel comes back with a frustrated huff.

“She staying over there?”

“Yeah, Amelia’s mom said it was fine. Then she started askin’ who you were. Guess they saw us in the hotel lobby.”

Your stomach twists, nervous at what his response was.

“And?”

“Told her you were Sarah’s aunt. She gave me a weird look.”

“Great, now the soccer mom’s will be oogling me tomorrow.”

“Well they will anyway,” Joel responds, finding a spot next to you on the edge of the bed, “Single ones won’t leave me alone.”

You know he’s really just seeing if you’ll get jealous. But you don’t play into his little game. You just let out a loud hearty laugh.

“The ladies just love a Miller.”

He grumbles something inaudible, nudging you with his elbow. “You do, don’t ya?”

“Sure do.”

His face softens, his eyes flicking down to your lips.

You grin, “She’s 14 and super goofy. Loves to play socc-”

“You’re truly testin’ me today, ain’t ya?”

You can’t help yourself at that point. The way he’s flirting only gives you more reason to taunt him.

“Is Sarah seriously going to be gone from the room all night?”

“Yeah,” He nods, leaning back on his palms. He acts like he’s watching TV, ignoring your not-so-subtle hints that you want his eyes on you.

“So, I can finally ask you why you think it’s okay to tease me in the car?”

“Don’t know what you’re on about, darlin’,” He smirks, he knows.

You tilt your head to the side, finally lifting your hand onto his lap. You immediately start toying with him the same way, your hand creeping towards his crotch. His eyes peel away from the TV. He watches you closely, his eyes trailing from your gaze down to your fingers dancing on his pant leg.

“You put your hand on my thigh and started inching closer and cl-“

“Are you tryin’ to make a point or pose a question?”

He was getting annoyed with the games already. But you’d only just begun.

“I’m just trying to explain how you can’t do things like that to me in front of Sarah,” You remark, flicking your eyelashes up to his glare, “Especially when you can’t finish it.”

“Who said I ain’t gonna?”

You huff, “Well here we are, all alone in a hotel room. No kiddo in sight. Still not touching me.”

“Don’t think you deserve it cause you’re a tease.”

“How am I a tease, Miller?”

“You exist and that’s enough. Walkin’ around in a tank top,” He gestures to your chest, “Just beggin’ to be touched.”

Your skin is set alight. The words go straight to your core.

“Joel-“

You’re cut off. His hands work quickly, pulling you by the nape of your neck, right to his eager lips. You begin to realize you had been longing for this moment for so long. He couldn’t resist anymore, his whole body buzzing at the fact that he finally has you again.

His lips are soft and slow as they make their way around yours. His hands eventually trail down to your butt, his hands cradling both cheeks. He lifts you forward, sliding you up and onto his lap.

“Been wantin’ this for months, baby.”

Butterflies erupt in the pit of your tummy. You can feel them travel up to your chest as you look down at him, his eyelids heavy and his lips pursed.

He waited for you to respond to his calls, knowing you needed time. He needed to be patient. You would come around, he knew it. After months, here you are.

He thinks back to every time he was touching himself late at night, he would imagine the night you two shared. Your soft curves and needy dripping pussy. It drove him wild imagining you like this again.

“I think it’s been more than wantin’, Joel,” You grind down on his prominent bulge growing in his sweatpants, “Think you need it.”

He grins, finally getting out of his own head.

“Such a little tease, damn it.”

You lean down, mindlessly speckling kisses behind his ear and neck. Your boobs rest right in front of his face, and you’re right, he needs it. His hands leave your behind, reaching up to the straps of your tank top. He tugs them down your biceps, allowing your cleavage to spill out more.

Your hands find his dark peppered curls at the nape of his neck, pulling downward. You needed him closer and he obliged. He starts to kiss your collarbones, wandering down to the swell of your breasts. You can feel yourself staining your sports shorts with anticipation.

You rock your hips, craving more. He takes the hint, reaching back down to lift you from your ass. He switches spots, laying you on your back on the plush white duvet. He’s leaning over you now, which gives you a great view of how spent he looks already. His gray sweatpants are hanging lower, tenting where his cock has grown hard.

He smirks, taking off his shirt the same way he did earlier. With one hand, it slips right over his head and onto the floor.

“Jesus,” You huff out, using the time to remove your top, “I need you, Joel.”

The smirk never leaves his lips. He leans down, pushing your legs apart with his pointer and middle finger. You open up for him, wanting nothing more for him to dive into you in every possible way. You watch as he slides his fingers up your thigh, past the openings of your shorts.

He realizes you aren’t wearing underwear. He sighs as he swipes the pads of his fingers across your wet slit.

“I know you do,” He drawls, watching you writhe under his touch, “You need me as much as I need you.”

He practically tears off your shorts, not wasting any time fighting with the fabric.

You adjust how your laying to accommodate him laying between your thighs. He lays down on his stomach, bringing your hips close to his mouth. You watch as he kisses your inner thighs, his breath hot fanning against your skin.

You remember the last time you were in this position. You spent night after night remembering the best head you’ve ever gotten, from the one and only, Joel Miller. And you could tell Joel was not going to go another moment without making you cum on his tongue.

When his tongue hits the top of your slit, you whine at the contact. He presses his face in, diving deeping into your lips. As soon as he finds your clit, he puts all his attention there. His nose is pressed against your mound as he hums against your sensitive bud.

“Joel,” You cry, reaching down between your legs to grab the crown of his head, your hands lacing into his locks, “Right fuckin’ there.”

He continues his movements, only increasing in speed in which he flicks his tongue. He wraps his lips over the swollen area, sucking and lapping your sweetness. He pulls away, the slick between your thighs missing him instantly. He brings his fingers up to his mouth and wets them with saliva. He glances up at your completely dazed face.

“‘M gonna fuck you with my fingers first,” His voice is deep and hushed, “Make you cum. You gonna cum for me like a good girl?”

You don’t even know where it comes from. But you say it with your chest.

“Yes, Daddy.”

You never expected the moan to come out of his mouth. It’s deep and guttural. He couldn’t believe his ears, and he can’t believe the words came from your mouth. His good girl? That fuckin’ flithy?

He slips his fingers into you without resistance. His mouth finds it’s way back to your core, fucking you in unison.

You reach up to your chest, cradling your own boobs. Joel’s still only in sweatpants but they are riding low on his hips. As he’s giving you his all, he’s grinding his hips into the bed, trying to get whatever friction he can. Watching the motion alone is driving you wild, sending your hips rotating on his tongue. You knew the release was coming, you could feel it in your fingertips.

And when it comes, it’s like fireworks inside your stomach and chest. You lurch forward, crying out his name. You knew it was probably way too loud for the thin hotel walls, but you couldn’t help yourself. The orgasm sends stars speckling across your vision.

Joel fucks you through the comedown. You are the hottest thing he’s ever laid eyes on, he thinks. When your body rests back, you’re panting, trying to ground yourself for a second. Joel pulls his fingers out and sucks each digit.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” You mewl, reaching out for him. You just need to touch him.

He shimmies his sweatpants down and off his legs. He’s sitting back on his knees, smiling down at your desperate eyes. He crawls on top of you, his dick prodding at your thighs. He leans down, trapping your lips into another longing kiss. His hands trail down your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He pulls back after a couple seconds, gazing into your eyes.

“You still on that birth control?”

You hum in response.

“Need me to pull out still?”

You smirk, lacing your arms around his shoulders, “No. Need you to cum inside me.”

He shakes his head, sitting back to line himself with your entrance.

“My dirty girl,” He runs his cock head between your swollen red lips, triggering your hips to move closer to him, “You drive me insane.”

“Come on, Joel. I’ve been waiting for ages for you to fuck me. Need you. Now.”

He chuckles darkly, still not giving you what you want. “Waiting ages, huh?”

“Joelllll,” You beg, smacking his chest, “Please.”

“Mmm,” He pushes forward just enough to relieve your ache, “Love it when you beg for it.”

He practically splits you open when he snaps his hips. You both groan simultaneously, unable to hold back this sick fantasy you’re both playing into. You feel more full than you ever did before. You don’t remember it hurting this good.

“Holy fuck,” you whine, “So fucking full, Joel.”

He slowly pulls back, “You tell me if it’s too much, ‘kay?”

You shake your head, throwing your head back as he sets a cautious pace. He’s watching all your facial expressions, making sure he’s not hurting you. You wince when he starts to pick up the pace, which causes him to halt completely.

“No,” You plead, “More. Faster. Please, just please.”

He says nothing, just pushes up your thighs so the back of them are flush with the front of his. He leans over you, his elbows on each side of your head. He grinds into you while his dark curls fall into your face. You tilt your head up, finding the crook of his neck again.

His cock felt so good dragging in out of you. You felt like you could stay in this position forever. You molded so perfectly around him. He treated you like this beautiful mural, taking his time with delicate strokes. His hands wrapped around the back of your head, holding you in the curve of his body.

You latch your lips onto his neck, peppering lovebites everywhere. You didn’t even think about if they could be seen later. In the moment, you only thought of him as yours. He was yours and everyone would fucking know it.

He’s starting to get more greedy. He pulls back, his warmth moving away from your perked up nipples. His upper body the best view you could get, so you couldn’t complain too much. He grabs behind your knees, using them as leverage as he starts to pound into you.

Your eyes meet and for fuck’s sake, he’s perfect. You never knew you could see Joel Miller like this. Like someone who fucked you so good, but also cared so tenderly for you. He wanted to see you in the throws of pleasure, not even worrying about when he’d get his rocks off. He got his rise out of seeing how much you enjoyed yourself.

His ravenous drive to bring you to the edge is causing the headboard to slam against the wall which each stroke. He brings his left hand up to your bouncing tits, grabbing your nipple and tugging on it. He knew what touching your boobs did to you. He remembers watching your visceral reactions to him toying with them before. It brings a smile to his face.

“I’m gonna-”

You don’t even finish your sentence, you just gasp as you feel his cock head hit the deepest parts of you. A place no other man has made it to.

“I don’t want anyone else,” He musters out, his teeth clenching as your pussy restricts around him. He means it. He may be drunk on you, but he feels those words down to his bones. “I only ever want this.”

It was never just about the sex. Joel cared for you. Fuck, maybe he even loved you.

You swallow, propping yourself up on your elbows. You glance down, watching his cock slip so perfectly, in and out of you.

“I’m yours, Joel,” You manage to peep out before the orgasm you’ve been holding back builds to a maddening point, “I’m yours.”

The words make his cock twitch. He can’t help himself, he needs you to cum right this very moment. He doesn’t say anything, just unhooks your legs and uses his right hand to put pressure on your clit. Tears start to prick in your eyes as he lazily rubs circles, humming in satisfaction. He feels you tightening up, he knows your close.

Your vision goes white. You body starts to vibrate, the pure bliss he’s sending you into takes you to a whole other dimension. You want more. More. More. More.

As he watches you seize up, he can’t resist his own orgasm. The explosion sends him into a moaning mess. He fucks into you, painting your walls with his cum, not letting a drop go to waste.

He collapses on top of you. You don’t even care, you feel like jello anyway, he could melt right into you.

He rolls off after a minute.

You always miss him when he’s not near you.

You stare at the ceiling, pondering the right words to say to him. Nothing comes to mind. He gets up, walking naked to the bathroom. He grabs a rag from the shelf above the toilet, running it under some warm water.

When he returns, you let him clean all around your body. You make sure he doesn’t wipe away the wet kisses he left all over you, though.

“You okay?”

You finally look at him.

You want to say yes, because you were okay. Physically. But your heart wanted to pulsate out of your chest.

“I will be,” You state simply, “Just tired.”

He slowly starts grabbing all your articles of clothing off the floor, dressing you once he collects all of them. He’s careful with you. Gentle.

“Do you want to sleep in the same bed?”

The question rings in your ears. Of course you did.

“As long as you get up at the ass crack of dawn and move before Sarah comes in.”

He chuckles, pulling his sweatpants back over his waist. He doesn’t even bother to put on his shirt.

“Will do, baby.”

When you wake up, you realize the overheard light flickered on. You contort your sleep dazed body, Joel’s upper body practically laying over you. You try to blink the haze out of your eyes, but your tired mind is completely shocked when you see an outline of a girl.

Shitshitshitshitshit.

You fling your body upward, rattling Joel awake. He’s startled, his arms flinging off of you.

“I knew it!” Her voice is piercing. “I knew it! Holy shit!”

“Sar-”

“Are you two dating? Or are you just… wait, ew!”

She’s rambling, her words clashing together in confusion. Your heart is about to hammer out of your chest.

“Sarah, we aren’t dating,” You declare, your voice shaking.

“But you’re sleeping together?”

You could cut the silence with a sword. It’s so thick and awkward.

A 14 year old girl shouldn’t know you’re sleeping with her Dad. Let alone walk in after you spent all night tangled up in him.

“Sarah,” Joel’s voice is buttery and raspy after he wakes up. You hold the comforter up to your chest. You had your tank top on, but it hangs so low on you, you don’t want to risk anything. “Grab your uniform, get dressed. We can talk about this later.”

“Does Uncle To-”

“Sarah! Stop!”

It scares you since it’s so close to your ear. His voice changes so abruptly, it makes you cringe a bit.

Hearing the question from Sarah’s lips makes you feel queasy. Having the girl who you always considered your niece ask if her uncle knew you were sleeping with her dad... God what a fucking mess.

You watch her storm across the room, grabbing her backpack and race to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Joel groans next to you as he slams back into the plush pillows.

“She will be fine. We will talk about it later,” Joel says under his breath.

You open your mouth but nothing comes out.

You hadn’t thought much of this through. Ever since you and Joel first slept together, you pushed your harbored feelings to the side. Sometimes they creep in, which would send you into a panic. Because deep down, you knew you felt something for Joel. Something you hadn’t felt since you first started dating Tommy. Maybe even ever. It was exciting. He made you feel special. After everything he said to you last night, you knew he possessed some similar emotions and feelings.

You felt crazy for believing this could work.

You knew this would be complicated. Now Sarah is involved. How do you explain these emotions to a child? You don’t.

You think about all the horrible outcomes to this situation. Tommy wanting to fight Joel. His mom never accepting you back into the family. Who knows, maybe Sarah gets so upset at the situation, she never treats you the same again.

But then you think about Joel. How he’s a night and day difference to what Tommy was to you. He wore his emotions on his sleeve. He wanted to protect you. He wanted to take care of you every chance he could.

You start to think back to the times when you were still with Tommy. Joel defended you when you two had a blowout fight. He always made sure to have a watchful eye on you when you all went out to bars. He was even there when you graduated college, giving you a bouquet of beautiful daises he swore up and down Sarah picked out. But you knew the truth. Joel loved daisies. He even had his Mom plant some in his front yard last year.

You were just so scared. You didn’t want to be hurt again. You did not want your feelings to be wrong.

You glance down at him, your back still turned. He could read your face, he knew you were overthinking everything. Your mind was working overtime, trying to muster up some excuse to run away and forget everything that happened between you two. There was nothing normal about this situation.

But fuck, you both really wanted it. So bad. You couldn’t keep lying to yourself.

His hand creeps up your back, resting a reassuring palm on your aching shoulder.

“Stop thinkin’ for a minute,” he whispers, “You don’t need to make any decisions right this minute. We will just take it one second at a time. Ain’t no way ‘m lettin’ you go. I want you here.”

You didn’t know if he meant here in general or in the figurative sense.

He meant it both ways.

Maybe it was crazy, but that feeling was deep in your chest. This palpable inkling that this could evolve into you being his.

This being more than sex? More than a crush?

Being Joel’s sounded like a fever dream.

He wanted nothing more but to wrap you up into his arms, hold you and kiss your head, reassuring you that you two can figure it out together. But instead, Sarah walks out in her soccer uniform, squashing the moment. She stands in front of the bed, finally making eye contact with you.

“You guys gonna get up and watch me kick ass, or are you gonna to lay in bed all day?”

You smile at her. You silently prayed this girl would stay in your life forever.

“I know my answer.”

Joel smiles, “’s go kick some ass.”

again thank you for reading!! let me know your thoughts!

find part 1 and 2 here!

#how long #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller the last of us #the last of us #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #gracieheartspedro #joel miller tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel tlou #tommy miller #joel last of us smut #joel the last of us #tlou gifs

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 10 months

Text

Kumquats & Oranges - Charles Leclerc

Neighbour fluffiness

Summary: Charles buys as many plants as he can carry to try and get his neighbour’s attention even when he’s not in Monaco.

Charles never has any problem with finding a woman if he wants one. But for some reason it was his hyper-independent neighbour who lived one floor down from him that really caught his interest.

He’d lived in the apartment a few months before he discovered who spent their nights listening to sad music. It was never too loud, only when his own apartment was completely silent did he even ever hear it. But it caught his attention. Then he finally came across her while she was entering the apartment with a small orange tree in a plant pot that was really far too heavy for her to carry with ease.

“I can help you.” Charles states, raised with the manners to help a lady who needs it.

“No. No. It’s fine. I got it. Don’t help me.” She laughs shaking her head, nearly dropping it when she releases it from one hand to waft him off. “I didn’t get this far with help and I can get the rest of the way without it too, but thank you.”

After that he continued to find their paths crossing. Or more, he began to look out for her more, to notice what he routine and pattern might be. It’s not so much that he was stalking her, it’s not like he followed her or tried to purposely run into her when he knew she’d be coming back.

The time for him to begin travelling for the races was nearing and he needed to find a way to get her number and a reason to contacts her.

So he did what any sane person would do. He bought 15 new potted plants to keep around his apartment and went downstairs to knock on her door. Though it only dawned on him after ringing the doorbell that he never learned her name before this interaction and to her, he is much more of a stranger than she is to him.

“Oh, hi.” She smiles looking breathless as she appears at the door but it drops when she seems to look nearly horrified. “Oh my gosh, was I being too loud? I was painting the ceiling and I fell off the step ladder. I swear my pain tolerance is usually fine. But...”

She shifts her weight onto one foot and hides the shin of her leg behind her weight-bearing leg making Charles look down and grimace in sympathy since it looks like she’s ripped a few layers off skin off the front of her shin.

“I’m fine. But I’m so sorry if I-”

“It’s not that, but you should sit that looks sore...Do you have a first aid kit?”

“Oh yes, I do actually.”

She’s clearly young and maybe not always thinking with her head straight but it’s making her so endearing that Charles can’t help but smile.

“Come in! Come in. Gosh, my manners.” She gasps scolding herself under her breath as she digs under the kitchen sink then pulls out a box. “I’m y/n, by the way.”

“I’m Charles. Do you need some help?” Charles asks already feeling like he knows the answer.

“No. No. I got it. Thank you though, very kind of you.” She smiles brightly then jumping up on the kitchen island counter then she frowns again as a thought dawns on her and she looks at the F1 driver with furrowed brows. “Sorry, was there something else you came to speak about?”

“Yes, actually.” Charles laughs feeling a tingle in his chest when her face flushes in humiliation over her delayed realisation of why he might be there. “I am going to be travelling soon and over the winter I have acquired a few plants. I was hoping I might be able to ask a neighbour to just water them while I’m gone. As you live just below me I first thought of you. Especially after I saw you with that little orange tree.”

“It’s a kumquat tree.”

“Sorry?”

“The fruit tree, it’s kumquats. Not oranges...don’t worry. I only learned that after I brought it up here. They’re like an oranges weird cousin.” Y/n explains proving that she may lack a filter as well as an attention span, but it’s only adding to her appeal in Charles’ eyes. “Oh but I could water you plants no problem. What are neighbours for if they cannot water your plants?”

“Thank you, that means a lot...this is my spare key. Just so you can get in...Is there any chance I could get your number? Just then I can let you know when I’m back and you’re off duty.”

“Oh of course, plus I guess it’s always good to have neighbour’s numbers. Like if your apartment is broken into while you’re gone then I can call and let you now.”

“And if your apartment is broken into while I am here, you can call for help.”

“Charles, I am more than capable of handling an intruder. Don’t let a step ladder injury while decorating fool you. I know self-defence, and non-self defence.” Y/n declares which he can’t help but grin at. “Why are you smiling like that? I’m serious.”

“It is just nice to see someone be so confident in protecting themselves. I don’t even know I have that confidence.” Charles shrugs then placing his phone unlocked on the counter for her. “For your number.”

-----

After the Bahrain race, Charles really went home purely motivated by a certain girl and his plants.

He doesn’t even get past the entrance before he spots her opening her mail box.

“Y/n.” He greets making her jump and turn. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.” She frowns but the bluff doesn’t even seem to convince her. “It was a jump of excitement.”

“I did not think you would be so happy to see me.” Charles jokes and the flush on his face is something he doesn’t believe he could pay enough money to see.“If you missed me it is ok to admit it, I’m sure my constant footsteps above you add such excitement to your day.”

“I-I did not-I just meant now I don’t have to water the huge amount of plants in your apartment.” Y/n lies turning away. “I thought you would be gone for longer.”

“I’m only back for a couple days.”

She nods then clearing her throat and smiling at him.

“I did realise I do actually owe you for the plants there must be a way that I can repay you. If there is anything you can think of? I’m happy to pay cash or if there is something else?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Y/n laughs shaking her head at him. “It’s watering plants, not donating an organ. That will cost you and since I know you make a ridiculous amounts of money, I’d chart extra purely because of net worth.”

“You are amazing.” That was meant to be internal monologue.

“I-uh, thank you. I should go, I got...I’m redecorating.” She stutters stumbling to the stairs instead of the lift and nearly tripping at the top of the first flight.

-----

Charles decided to leave a gift for y/n when he left and when he gets a text with a picture of it set up next to her window, near the kumquat tree. He left it at her door in fear that she might reject it. The text of gratitude that seemed nearly frustrated by the limitation of how she could express herself over text.

It’s another 3 weeks of text updates about his plants that seem to have had a complete glow up from their starting state.

“Why is your apartment filled with plants?” Andrea questions as they walk in.

“It brings life to the apartment. It is nice.” Charles states feeling a little defensive and protective of the plants, only because he knows how proud y/n is of these plants.

“Yes, but you are never here. Is your mum taking care of them?”

“No. A neighbour.”

Andrea frowns at the younger man who just smiles looking at one of the plants that looks very happy.

“I am going to go thank her actually. I will-”

“Her? Sorry, your neighbour is a her? Are you trying to take someone’s wife? Aren’t all your neighbours other men?”

“No. She lives just the apartment below.” Charles frowns then clearing his throat. “She lives alone.”

“Right, so she is some rich man’s daughter.”

“Everyone in Monaco is some rich man’s something. Leave her alone, you haven’t even met her.” Charles huffs then muttering that he’ll be back.

Thinking about it, he didn’t even check that she was in but thankfully when he knocks on the door. She smiles appearing.

“I thought I heard movement above. How long are you back this time?”

“A few weeks actually. We’re on a break.”

“Oh...ok. I hope you aren’t coming with complaints. I did spill some water the other day. But I swear I cleaned it up. I didn’t think I missed anything.” Y/n rambles then stepping aside. “Come in, you must be exhausted.”

“Thank you.”

“I actually watched your race. I’m sorry you didn’t get far into the Australian race. Those sorts of things can happen to anyone really. In fact the whole race was a bit of a disaster form beginning to end. It probably doesn’t help, but it made for great watching.” Y/n rambles beginning to tie her hair back which is when Charles notices that she’s completely redecorated.

“Wow, you redid everything?”

“Yeah, it was just feeling...I don’t know...not very me. Plus it was all rented furniture. I added the plants as a starting point. What do you think?”

“I love it. You have a taste for unique things.” Charles smiles as he looks around. “No more injuries from decorating?”

“No. No more injuries. But if you have any suggestions for unique decor. Please feel free to suggest. I’m always open.” She smiles then bouncing a bit on her feet. Then suddenly she launches onto him. “Thank you for the orange tree, I love it. It was so nice of you to do that.”

“I’m glad you liked it, I was worried more plants might overcrowd your apartment but you found the perfect spot for it.” Charles states before placing her down. “If you liked the race, I would love to invite you for the next race.”

The look of pure joy paints over expression and she beams, kissing both cheeks which leaves Charles laughing a little feeling maybe a little flustered over her forward actions.

“That would be amazing. You are so kind. So kind.”

-----

Charles didn’t need more reason to perform well really. But having y/n there for the Baku race, Charles has a bit of refreshed motivation. He’s also spent a lot of his time in the paddock completely amused by her just in awe of the entire experience.

Since he isn’t a believer of luck, he’s choosing to call it a coincidence that his first pole of the season is when y/n is present.

The moment he’s out of the media’s spying eye. He moves over and finds her practically buzzing with excitement and the moment he gets to her she launches herself on him again.

“You did amazing! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I got to be here to see it.” Y/n beams seemingly completely overwhelmed with joy on his behalf. “This is so cool.”

The rest of the weekend is pretty good with P2 for the sprint and P3 for the Grand Prix.

“I had the best time. I owe you big time, honestly this is just amazing.” Y/n grins at the end of the weekend as they sit down for dinner. “And you didn’t have to bring me out for dinner. You are the winner.”

“I want to bring you here.” Charles shrugs then smiling as their meals are placed down. “I’m glad you had a good time. It was nice to have you here, getting to know you a bit more. You will have to come to another race. I’ll get you some good seats for the Monaco race.”

“Feels like too much as repayment for just watering your plants.” Yes, the plants that were bought purely so he could get her attention.

“You paid for the flight here and your hotel, if I can pay for this meal it will be the first thing I’ve paid for the whole time you’ve been here.”

That’s true. Technically the paddock pass didn’t cost him anything either, it’s just part of the job.

“If it really makes you feel good, I will let you pay but then...is this a date?”

“I was hoping it might be.”

Y/n’s entirely face goes so red that Charles almost feels a need to be concerned but the smile on her face definitely settles the worries.

“Ok, then I guess I’d be rude to not let you pay if you want to.”

-----

The next time Charles gets home to Monaco, he arrives home to find a bowl of kumquats awaiting him with a note.

Try figuring out how to eat these, it took google to help me. From Y/n xxxx

“Are those mini oranges?” Arthur questions making Charles look up.

“Kumquats.”

“Kum-whats?”

“They’re from y/n, she has a kumquat tree.”

“Oh right, the girl that you bought all the plants to impress.”

“Not to impress, just to get her attention. It worked though.” Andrea laughs earning smirk from Charles. “Is she home right now? You should introduce your little brother.”

“She’s coming up now actually.” Charles states and almost as if she knew the timing was so perfect, the knock on the door makes him move over, grinning at him. “How do you eat a kumquat?”

“Eat it whole. Like a grape.”

Arthur, Andrea and Charles all look at her as if she’s trying to trick them but she grins when she sees Arthur.

“Hi, I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

It doesn’t take long for Arthur to understand why Charles is so taken by his neighbour and then Charles tries to get rid of them after they decide that kumquats are actually pretty good and Charles has to fend his brother and Andrea off so they don’t eat them.

“I’m so glad everyone is getting introduced to kumquats because of me.” Y/n grins then stealing one from Charles as he finally releases them. “Did you really buy plants just get to know me?”

“Who told you?”

“You went to the bathroom and Arthur let it slip...it’s cute. I’m actually incredibly flattered that you saw me with a plant once and then bought 15 plants.” Y/n laughs as she lies her head in his lap. “I already love our how we met story.”

“At least you don’t want to run away because of it. I was going to tell you eventually.” Charles states making y/n grin up at him. “A wedding speech kind of thing.”

“Wedding? Amazing.” She cackles finding his reaction of spluttering over some words in realisation that he just casually mentioned getting married.

“Ok, we’re going on a date.”

“Hope this isn’t a ploy to propose.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 #f1 #charles leclerc #leclerc #charles #fanfic #imagine

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7ndipity · 5 months

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Second Glances

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: You and Yoongi have been best friends for years, but after you confess you feelings for him, Yoongi realizes he might have misread his own feelings towards you.

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: slight angst, swearing, lil suggestive at the end, partially proofread

A/N: Thanks so much to @whitefoxgirl for this request! Tbh, I'm not entirely happy with this, but I didn’t want to leave you hanging for ages while I nitpicked.🙄 I hope you still like it tho💜

Masterlist

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It was a strange thing, how you could go on seeing someone the same way for years, and then all of a sudden, something happens and turns you on your head.

When Hobi had first introduced you to his fellow members after you moved to Seoul, you and Yoongi had clicked instantly, much to the surprise of everyone else. No one could quite understand it, but the two you had seemed to fit together naturally like two halves of a whole, the yin to his yang; while he was on the quieter, more introverted side, you were bright and loud, with an infectious enthusiasm. A prime example of that being the way he could hear you and Hobi before you ever entered his studio, laughing loudly as you rushed through the door ahead of his bandmate.

“There’s no way you did that!” You insisted.

“I did, I swear, we even have video of it!” Hobi argued.

“What the fuck are you two yelling about?” Yoongi asked, more amused than annoyed by the sudden noise.

“Did he actually go bungee jumping?” You asked, turning your attention to him.

“Why would I lie about that?!” Hobi exclaimed.

“Oh, that,” Yoongi deliberated for a second before smirking over at Hobi. “No, he didn’t.”

“Why are you lying?!” Hobi yelled, making you both burst into laughter. As much as Hoseok loved you and his hyung becoming friends, you were absolute menaces together, constantly teasing him and the members, as well as each other.

“Screw it, I just wanted to ask if you wanted to come with us to get something to eat?” He asked, exasperatedly.

“Sure.” Yoongi answered, still laughing slightly.

“Cool, I’m gonna go find Jimin, I’ll be right back.” He announced, heading back out the door before either of you could say anything else.

Yoongi turned his attention back to the screen in front of him as you settled on the sofa, Hobi apparently having taken your energy with him as he left, as silence suddenly fell over the room.

Yoongi glanced over at you. “You okay?”

“Hmm?” You looked up in confusion. “Yeah, why?”

“I dunno, you just got kinda quiet.” He shrugged.

You let out a small laugh. “I’m okay, I just know that you don’t like a lot of noise, so I usually try to be a little calmer when it’s just us so I won’t bug you.”

“You don’t bug me.” He said.

“No?” You looked at him doubtfully.

“Well, not a significant amount.” He smirked, making you laugh again. “You wanna see what I’m working on?”

“Really?” Your eyes lit up.

“Sure.” He said, pulling a second chair over close to his so you could both see the screen as he hit play.

Yoongi was normally quite private about his music, at least until it was finished, but he loved getting to show you his new projects, talking animatedly as you listened to part of the song, explaining how he mixed and layered the audio files, or what lines he liked best.

“So is this how you get girls?” You said, unable to resist teasing him just a little bit as he spoke.

“No,” He shot you a sly look. “I just like getting to teach you stuff.”

“Oh really?” You grinned, leaning over the arm of your chair. “You know, I don’t know how to kiss either, care to teach me that?”

Yoongi’s eyes widened, looking over at you in surprise.

“I’m just joking Yoongs!” You laughed, trying to quickly dispel any awkwardness. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Eh, it’s okay, it boosts my ego.” He replied, grinning at you.

“Really?” You asked.

“Yeah, even if I know you’re just playing around.” He said, shooting you a quick wink, missing the way you looked away, falling silent again for a new reason.

While it was true that part of your flirty remarks were just for the sake of teasing him, enjoying the way you could so easily make him flush red, that wasn’t the case for all of them.

In the past few months, your feelings for Yoongi had shifted from those of purely a friend into something more, a fact that you had been trying to subtly bring to Yoongi’s attention, apparently without success.

You hadn’t wanted to just drop the information on him like a bomb, fully aware that he might not reciprocate, and not wanting to jeopardize your friendship, but clearly your current approach was not going to get you any type of answer.

“What if I wasn’t?” You said suddenly.

“What?” He glanced back at you, confused.

“What if I wasn’t kidding? What if I liked you?” You asked, watching him carefully.

He blinked at you. “I-, did, wait what?!”

“I know it’s probably not the best time, but I don’t know if there’ll ever be a ‘best time’ to say this.” You took a breath. “I like you, as more than a friend, and I understand if you don’t feel the same for me, but I just… I just wanted to say it.” You finished, staring down at your hands, afraid to meet his gaze.

He stared at you in complete shock, his mind scrambling to try and make sense of what you’d just said. How long had you felt this way? What did this mean for your friendship?

The seconds ticked by as the silence in the room grew nearly unbearable.

“Please say something.” You urged.

“Y/n, I-,” Yoongi sat back in his chair. “I’m sorry, but I just don’t see you that way.” He said as gently as possible.

You nodded, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “Yeah, that’s what I figured.”

“I’m so sorry.” He apologized.

“It’s alright, I knew it was a long shot,” You smiled at him. “At least now I know, and we can go on as normal.”

He blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah.” You chuckled slightly at his bemused expression. “I’m a grown woman, Yoongi, I can handle a little rejection. I knew you might not feel the same, but nothing’s changed, you’re still one of my best friends. I just wanted to tell you.”

“Okay.” He said, visibly relaxing.

“Are we still okay?” You asked.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Cool.” You smiled, quickly changing the subject as the others came back in.

To Yoongi’s surprise, you lived up to your word, continuing on with your friendship as if nothing had ever happened, hanging out with him and other members as usual. Even that same day at lunch, no one else would’ve had an inkling of what had transpired between the two of you from the way you acted, sitting together and talking easily, still making your teasing comments here and there.

Everything was exactly the same, except it wasn’t.

It was miniscule at first, but in the weeks that had followed, it was clear that something had changed. Not you exactly, but something in the way Yoongi saw you changed; the way you laughed at something he said, or the way you smiled at him, but suddenly everything about you seemed to draw him in, leaving him questioning his words to you. Did he see you as more than a friend?

Looking back, he couldn’t deny that he’d always thought you were attractive, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was attracted to you. And maybe sometimes his heart rate picked up a little more than usual due to your flirty remarks, but that was just because you caught him off guard. It didn’t mean anything, right? It wasn’t like he caught himself thinking about you constantly or wondering about how your lips would feel against his-

What the fuck?! He shook himself, quickly glancing over at where you were sitting on his sofa, working peacefully on your laptop.

He felt like he was going crazy, like he was gaslighting himself. Was your confession really all it had taken to make him develop feelings for you? Or had they existed the whole time and he was just too blind to notice? Why couldn’t he have had this fucking revelation three weeks ago when you were sat in front of him? But of course you figured it out first, you were always more forward than he was, that was one of the things he loved about you…

Fuck.

The worst part was that you could tell something was off, but he couldn’t very well tell you what. He would look like a complete asshole if he tried to make a move on you after having rejected you, like he was just fucking around with your feelings.

“Yoongs?” Your voice suddenly snapped him back to the present, realizing he’d been staring off into space.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, turning back to his computer.

You sighed, sitting up and moving your things off to the side.

“Are we gonna talk about this?” You asked.

“About what?” He didn’t look up.

“About how weird you’ve been acting lately.” You said.

He didn’t respond, looking down.

“Look, if this is about what I said-”

“It’s not.” He denied quickly.

“Yoongi, you’ve barely even looked at me today.” He turned around, meeting your eyes as you stared at him.

“Please, just talk to me.” You pleaded.

He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

You waited. “Because?”

“Because I screwed up,” He said. “You told me how you felt and I said no, but now I can’t stop thinking about it and, fuck, you must hate me, I don’t know what the fuck I’m saying but I-”

His ramble was abruptly cut off by you striding across the room and crashing your lips to his, making his mind go blank. He leaned up into you, hands finding your hips to steady you as you leaned over his chair, your hands tangling in his hair, savoring the taste of your lip balm on his tongue.

Too soon for his liking, you pulled away, breathing heavily as you met his eyes.

“I definitely don’t hate you,” You breathed. “Though I do have some things to say about your communications skills.” You snickered.

“Of course you do.” He scoffed.

“We can talk about that later though.’ You smiled. “Right now, I'd rather us just cover the basics.”

You leaned in again, noting the way his breath hitched slightly.

“Do you want this?” You asked softly.

He stared up at you with dark eyes, his voice coming out as almost a whisper. “I do.”

You kissed him, pressing him back in his chair as you moved to straddle him, earning a soft grunt from him. Yoongi gripped your waist tightly, not entirely used to having someone take the lead like this, but finding himself falling into the role easily, melting against you as you pressed closer, a shiver passing through him as your tongue slipped into his mouth.

“Hey hyung, I was jus- AGH MY EYES!”

You nearly fell backwards off Yoongi’s lap at Jimin’s scream from behind you, Yoongi’s hands catching you as you both whipped around to see the younger member standing in the doorway, staring at both of you in shock.

“Do you ever fucking knock?!” Yoongi snapped.

“I was-, I-.” Not knowing how to respond, Jimin simply backed out of the room, closing the door loudly behind him, leaving you and Yoongi alone again.

“Maybe we should do this somewhere else.” You said, face flushed in embarrassment.

“Why? Now they know not to come in.” Yoongi grinned, trying to tug you closer again, but you put a hand on his chest.

“Yoongi.” You complained.

“Okay, fine” He relented. “I guess I should buy you dinner first, it’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“You suck.” You laughed.

“Hey, you’re the one that likes me, it’s not my fault you have shit taste.” He teased, kissing you again lightly.

“Alright then, Mr. Gentleman, buy me dinner.” You grinned against his lips.

“Yes ma’am.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

#yoongi drabble #yoongi oneshot #yoongi fluff #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts one shot #bts drabble #bts fluff #bts requests #7ndipity

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g3l3mb · 1 year

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how to generate creative ideas:

(i need to get this out of my brain)

Make moodboards, playlists, keep a list of people who inspire you. Before starting a project think about the general vibe you want it to embody. Ask questions like “What would this concept sound like if it was a song?” ,“What would this concept be like if it was a person?”. Create a shirt that looks like a building you like, literally anything can be combined.

Take unrelated things or concepts and mix them together. Let’s take Addams Family as an example. “What if it was a story about a typical suburban family…but GOTH!”. It basically flips everything upside down. Or “What outfit would someone wear, who’s personality is the mix of the vibes of these two songs?” Random word generators are amazing for this if you don’t know where to start from.

Try making something truly BAD and then add a twist to it. It’s a great way for your brain to let go of expectations and then think outside of the box. But you can also use this to find out what you do not wanna do under any circumstances.

Think without worrying about the limits of what you can do and when it’s time for excecution, find a way around what’s impossible. It births more creativity and adds uniqueness.

Consider what your idea is NOT before considering what it is. Limits are the best way to avoid getting overwhelmed and giving up. Don’t ALWAYS do this though (unless you wanna…), it’s just something to try out when you feel like you’re seeing too many possibilities to the point that they’re contradicting each other. Unless your goal is to make something full of contradictions, you’re a Free Man, do whatever you want.

Keep a list of random ideas you have throughout the day in your notes app or something and then at some point actually review them. Keep what you think is worth exploring and then act on it.

Find out how something works very throughoutly so you know which aspect can be changed to create something new.

Take a concept and break it down into smaller concepts, ideas, questions, key elements and then also break those ideas down etc. This will naturally lead to associations, unique ideas you wouldn’t think of without doing this. I found that this is a great way of coming up with metaphors.

This one is similar to the last two: take a piece of art you really love and try to find out the thought process behind. What’s the story, where did the artist get inspiration from, how did they incorporate those ideas in their work. How did an artist combine their personal interests and knowledge into one big thing. For example: Tolkien was an erudite linguist, so much so that he created entire functional languages in his work, such as Elvish in Lord of the Rings. Hirohiko Araki loves 80’s music so much he named characters in Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure after music references. This is why no knowledge is useless knowledge.

Think about the times you’ve been the most creative before. What were the specific circumstances? For me my best ideas always come when I have a strict deadline for something unrelated, like school (which I’m way too willing to sacrifice), or when I’m doing something mindless like walking and listening to music, or playing a game that requires no thinking. Most of the time after 10p.m. This doesn’t mean I can’t “force” myself to be creative (tips above), it just means these are the times ideas come most naturally. For some people this might be being out in nature or experiencing high emotions, maybe having their life on the line idk, to each their own.

You can’t just create. You also need to consume. The more information you absorb, the more possibilities you have with your ideas. So if you’re not feeling that creative, that’s fine, it’s the perfect opportunity to learn something new.

If you don’t already do these things and you’re looking to get more creative my advice is to ACTUALLY TRY THESE OUT. You’ll best understand them in action.

#creative #writing #creative writing #art #artist #creativity #entp #enfp #infp #intp #art tips #writing tips #writing advice #art block #writers block #creative ideas

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luvyeni · 6 months

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❛HOT N’ COLD❜ ( o. shotaro )

p. ghostface!shotaro x fem!reader w. 2k+

warnings? stalking, minor character death, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding link

— 𖦹 ( after years of running from him he finally caught up to you ) !

freaktober masterlist

‘this couldn’t be happening’ was all you thought as you listened to the radio on the way back from your job. “convicted serial killer , osaki shotaro broke out of prison earlier this evening.” you couldn’t believe your ears , how the fuck did he manage to get away. ‘i thought i got away’ you sped on the gas all the way home.

“(name) , calm down.” your friend tried to calm you down. “if he was smart enough he would stay here. he’s probably on his way to canada or something.” she didn’t know him like you did , when he wanted something, he got it.

“it’s been 4 years (name) , no more running.” she said , you sighed , she was right. you had moved a total of 3 times in the past few years , every time he’d find your new address, sending you a letter , declaring his love for you , and you were tired , you wanted to settle down. “he’s gone.”

she suggested you take a hot shower to relax yourself. “relax and eat all the junk you want.” she said before hanging up , you decided to listen – what’s the worst that could happen.

After finishing your shower – which was actually pretty relaxing , you wrapped the warm towel around your body , stepping out of the shower , grabbing your phone to turn off the music you were playing from the speaker. “huh?”

you were confused , your friend knew you were in the shower and your phone would be on do not disturb , so why would they try and call , 6 times at that. you pressed her number , waiting for her to pick up , it finally answered after a few rings. “i told you i'd be in the shower , why’d you call so much?”

first there was heavy breathing. “(friends name)?” there was a small gasp , then a giggle. “(friends name) , this is not funny.” you sat your phone down , putting on your underwear and a random sweatshirt you found. “what a shame baby.” That voice stopped you dead in your tracks. “i thought you would’ve remembered my laugh , i remembered everything about you.” your body froze up.

“sh-shotaro?” you stuttered. “eh? What happened to taro baby , you know i used to love when you called me that." he giggled once again. “shotaro , where is (friends name? what did you do to her.” He kissed his teeth. “see that’s why I should’ve killed her four years ago , she was always trying to get in between our love.” He said. “don’t worry , she won’t be bothering us anymore.”

his laughter sent shivers down your spine. “where is she!” you yelled. “i killed her baby , duh.” He said so casually. “she is such a screamer.” you gasped as he explained. “i got admit , it was fun , stabbing her , finally watching the life leave her eyes.” tears flowed down your cheeks. “don’t cry baby , the good news is , right before she died , she was so kind as to give me your address.”

fear set in your stomach , running to your room , closing and locking the door. “baby you know locking the door isn’t gonna stop me.” you were confused , how did he know unless. “you’re in my house.”

“such a smart baby.” he said. “it was so easy to , out anniversary date , as usual.” you should’ve changed it , but you it was the only set of numbers you could remember besides your birthday. You were pleading with him sobbing. “pl-please just go , i wont tell anybody , if you just go.”

“i can’t do that baby , not after I dreamt of this day for 4 years.” he said. “we broke up shotaro , please it’s over.” you cried , grabbing the small knife from your nightstand. “where are you , huh?” you said. “how long will you keep this up!”

“baby if you want me so bad , come find me.” he said. “im not stupid.” his giggles pissing you off. “shut the fuck up!” he stopped laughing. “talk to me like that again , and i kill your family.” His attitude switching from normal to dark , back to normal. “now come out like a good girl and play , if not i go to your parents house.”

“no please.” you opened the door. “look I did it , please just go now.” He tsked. “now come find me.” he said. “where are you?” you gritted your teeth. “that’s not how this works love , you have to play right to get your reward.” he said. “if you try to leave i'll know baby.”

you made your way into the kitchen. “you’re so cold baby , but i can see you now , and you look just as beautiful as ever , that sweatshirt isn’t really hiding much.” You wished you would’ve never gotten those cameras now , but in the moment they seemed to be a good idea.

“ooh baby.” he taunted , “you’re getting warmer.” he said as you turned back to make your way into your room , you turned to the closet. “bingo.” he said. “you’re so hot.” you slowly walking up to the closet. “are you gonna open it?” he questioned , as you reached for the door , opening it ready to swing the knife. “w-what.”

he was giggling again. “jesus baby.” he said through laughter. “maybe you are dumb , you really think i'd tell you where i am that easy.” you could barely see through it tears. “don’t cry baby , you’ll see me soon enough.”

“i can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.” he said. “it’s been so long , but i haven’t forgotten the way you smelled , i see you still use that soap i bought you.” you turned to the bathroom , the door was closed – you never closed the door after a shower. “you’re in the bathroom.”

“am i?” he questioned. “how about you check.” you were done with his teasing , running back to your room , closing and locking the door. “oh , are you being a brat baby?” he said. “i'm done.” your voice was shaky. “im done with your games.” The phone hung up. “hello?”

“really baby?” your heart sank. “cause it seems like you fell right into my trap.” There he stood behind you , after four years you’ve finally came face to face with the guy in the mask who struck so much fear in your heart for the past 4 years. “sh-shotaro.”

you look to the door , trying to make a run for it , but he was quicker , grabbing your wrist , forcing the knife out your hand. “please.” you begged. “please don’t kill me.” he let your arm go , holding the knife to your throat , keeping you in place.

he took the mask off , blood splattered still on it. “you know i will never harm you baby.” he said , his face still had that soft inviting look that he had before he became this monster that stands before you. “but you have to be a good girl.”

“w-what do you want?” his eyes went down your body , then back to your eyes , smirking , dropping the knife , letting you breath a bit. “you baby , that’s all i ever wanted was you.” he said. “you’re a murder!” You shouted. “you’ve killed many people.”

“that doesn’t change anything does it?” he said. “w-what?” you stuttered. “in all of the four years you’ve never moved too far away from me.” he started. “look around baby , you��ve kept things from our relationship , you still use things I bought for you.” you remembered him pointing out the soap , he always bought you that.

“that doesn’t even mean anything , i did love you along time ago.” you said. “a long time ago eh?” he said backing you against the wall. “then tell me you don’t love me anymore.” he said. “tell me you don’t miss me anymore.”

you were speechless , he was so close. “you can’t can you?” he grabbed your cheeks , forcing you to look at him. “because you still love me.” his hands travelled down from your waist down to your ass. “sh-shotaro.” he shut you up with a kiss.

this was wrong , you should’ve pushed him off , he was dangerous – he killed your bestfriend for gods sake , he could still kill you. “you know you want this.” he kissed against your neck. “you even dressed up so pretty for me.” he played with ends of the sweatshirt. “you even kept my sweatshirt.”

he picked you up , throwing you on the bed , hovering over you. “never forgotten the way how wet you got for me.” he pressed down on your clothed clit. “sh-shit.” you moaned and he smirked. “there you go , moan for me.” he rubbed your clit harder. “you want my fingers?”

he pulled your underwear to the side , pushing his fingers inside you. “fuck taro.” he roughly fucked your hole , pulling moan after moan out of you. “so fucking wet , can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.” his cock was straining against his bloodstained pants , begging to be freed.

“t-taro.” your back arched off the bed. “i-i'm gonna cum.” he curled his fingers , you screamed in pleasure. “im cumming!”

He fingered you through your orgasm , pulling his fingers out , tapping your face. “open.” he forced his fingers in your mouth , groaning as you tasted yourself. “good girl.” he put his fingers that were covered in your spit and juices , wrapping his plump lips around them. “so sweet.”

he stood off the bed , undoing his pants , letting them hit the floor , along with his underwear , before getting back on your bed , slotting himself in between your legs. he pulled your panties down. “such a pretty pussy.” you moaned , as his tip kissed your clenching hole. “t-taro , please fuck me.”

he didn’t easing himself inside you , slamming himself inside you , making you scream. “fuck baby.” he groaned. “so fucking tight , when was the last time anyone has fucked you?” truth is , he was the last time you had sex , you were too busy running to settle down , or even a one night stand. “f-four y-years.”

“four years.” he chuckled. “baby the last time you had sex was with me.” he sped up. “you basically saved yourself for me.” he grunted. “you knew only i could fuck this sweet cunt good enough to make you scream.” he abused your poor cunt.

“that’s it scream for me.” he wrapped his hand around your throat. “such a whore for me , i killed your bestfriend , her blood is still on me , and here you moaning for me like a slut.” he growled. “you’re just a sick as i am.”

you weren’t gonna last long with the way he handled your body , fucking you at a inhumane pace , your brain a little foggy due to lack of oxygen. “look at you , so dumb for me.”

“g-gonna cum.” you managed to get out. “yeah? gonna cum for me , cum all over my cock.” you nodded. “well go ahead , so i can breed your cunt , give you a kid to remind you of who you belong to.” he thrusted up , hitting that spot that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head , clenching around him , cumming.

“fuck , shit in gonna cum -fuck- gonna fill you up.” he moaned out before you felt the warmth of his seed spilling into your pussy. “fuck , take my cum.” he pressed his hips against yours , emptying himself inside you.

he stayed inside you , kissing your neck. “gonna run away.” he said. “somewhere really far where they’ll never find me.” he finally pulled out. “gonna take you with me.” He watched the cum leak out of you , scooping it up , pushing it back in. “start a family with you.” He kissed your forehead.

“and i'll kill anyone who tries to get in my way.”

©LUVYENI

#kpop x reader #kpop smut #riize scenarios #riize x reader #riize imagines #riize smut #riize x imagine #shotaro fic #shotaro x reader #shotaro smut

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sugurufic · 17 days

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Student of the Year (Gojo x Reader, Geto x Reader)

Summary: Saint Teresa, the planned destination for the rich, and a dream for those who can't afford it. Of course, there's a tension between the rich and the scholarship kids, the rich ones acting so much better than the others. All of that changes, when Suguru Geto, the new scholarship kid joins, blurring the lines between the two cliques. Satoru Gojo, the resident rockstar, the son of the most affluent man, the poster boy of the rich. You, the hottest girl on campus, Satoru’s girlfriend (or are you). Friends, bitches, love and betrayal - a competition to ruin all relationships.

Content Warning: fluff, fights, focused on SatoSugu, reader is rich and low-key a bitch, fuckboy Satoru, love triangle (stsg and reader) breakups, friendship breakups, typical Bollywood drama, a few swear words, ends on a positive note

Word Count: 21k | masterlist

A/N: For those of you unfamiliar with SOTY i've attached the links to the movie's songs <3 the tall guy is Sugu and shorter one is Satoru's character

Saint Teresa - the college where dreams come true, or nightmares become real. Saint Teresa is a big name with a big game - having a big division in the trust fund kids and the scholarship kids. There’s the star of the trust fund kids - Satoru Gojo - the son of the biggest tycoon of the country, who is blessed by the gods with a charming face and a gift for music, and wants to be a rockstar. Music is his passion, but he does have a lover - only the prettiest girl of Saint Teresa, the one sought after by everyone who's anyone. She drowns in luxury, dropping brand names like they were some pop stars. The only things she doesn’t lack are beauty and money.

One might think that with the prettiest girl of the school at his side, Satoru wouldn’t even look at other people, but as the first day of the new college term rolls out, you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend of four years getting a little to cosy to Tanya, his hand on her waist and her hands on his chest. You see red - the wine in your hand finding a target besides your mouth.

You pat his back, trying to get his attention, but he pushes you off in favour of whispering dirty-nothings to Tanya, the brunette soaking up his attention. The fates are cruel and the other woman notices you first, and Satoru only turns around to see you when Tanya asks him to.

He’s shocked, surprised and begins profusely apologising for not noticing you earlier, while Tanya looks at you with an annoying smirk plastered on her face.

“You know Tanya, wine stains are the hardest to get rid off,” You tell her, feeling positively malicious, directing your anger at her instead of Satoru.

“Thanks for the washing machine tip, I guess?” She responds, her voice snarky.

“You’ll need it,” you say, before throwing the remaining wine onto her white top and stalking away from the both of them.

“Baby, listen!” Satoru calls after you, catching up easily with his long legs. “Baby, I said I’m sorry, why did you have to do that?”

“Listen, Satoru,” You emphasised on his name, an angry crease between your brows. “If you don’t leave your company this term, I will leave you. Fix yourself.”

“Baby, you look so sexy, all jealous and threatening me,” Satoru teases, licking his lips as he looks down at you.

“I’m being serious, Satoru,” You say, not using any endearments for him. “You’ve been at it for too long. Stop testing me.”

A new sports scholarship student joins Saint Teresa for the new term, state level track gold medalist and a martial arts champion - Suguru Geto. He’s from a humble background, not having the flair and pomp of the rich kids, but he has the confidence and the skills to make things work. He drives his simple motorbike to the campus from the dorms, backpack on his shoulder. His long dark hair is tied up in a bun, and a few bangs frame his pretty face.

(Kukkad)

He parks his bike at an empty spot, when two guys, one blond and the other raven haired, come up to him. Suguru looks at them, a little confused, but doesn’t say anything regardless.

“Hey bangs guy, don’t you know this parking spot is reserved for the Satoru Gojo?” Ichiji Kiyotaka says. He too is one of the scholarship kids, dressed in simple clothes. His companion, Kento Nanami, seems like a scholarship kid as well with his too-neat hair and simple shirt and jeans. “Go park your bike somewhere else.”

He looks at them, scowling, but doesn’t attempt to move his bike.

Just then, the man in question rolls in with his blue Ferrari, lips turned up in disgust on seeing his usual spot occupied with a cheap bike he can’t even be bothered to know the name of.

“Kiyotaka, why is the trash here?” His voice is arrogant and full of himself, glaring at Kiyotaka and the bangs guy from behind his opaque sunglasses. “Don’t I pay you to keep my spot empty everyday?”

“This trash is called a motorbike and runs on petrol, you see,” Suguru says, voice laced in calm confidence.

“What did you say was your name again?” Satoru asks, sparkly blue eyes scrutinising him up and down from under his fluffy white hair - right from his bun and bangs to his sneakers, lip curling in disgust.

“I simply never said it,” Suguru simply says, purple eyes fixed on him, a model of confidence.

Satoru’s sidekick, another kid paying full fees, Yu Haibara, chimed in, “Are you trying to play Crorepati with us? You’ll give options and then we’ll have to choose?”

“I’m called Suguru Geto,” Suguru finally says, the air of confidence never leaving him.

“Suguru,” Satoru tries saying his name, the disinterest in his voice feigns - behind his sunglasses, his blue eyes are trying to find a point of weakness. “Well, Suguru, this is my parking spot, and I’m asking you to take your tractor away.”

Suguru doesn’t respond, going to the blue Ferrari instead, saying, “2005 Ferrari F360 Spider convertible, 400 horsepower with alloy wheels, a great car.”

“What are you man or Google?” Kiyotaka Ichiji comments.

“Maybe he was a mechanic back in his village,” Satoru says, looking down on him.

“A valet at the nightclub,” Suguru says.

“Valet?” Satoru says, giddy on finally finding a weakness. He throws him the keys of the car, which the bangs guy expertly catches and says, “Take the keys and park my car. And here’s some cash, maybe get your tractor cleaned.” He pauses for a moment, then adds. “Keep the change,”

Everyone waits with a baited breath to see the calm, confident bangs guy reaction, Satoru with a cocky smirk on his lips as Suguru calmly gets in the driver side of the car and the engine roars to life. There’s a collective gasp as Suguru takes the 2005 F360 to the muddy ground and runs it around in near perfect doughnuts, turning the baby blue to a muddy brown. There’s a crowd gathered around him, loud gossip travelling in the crowd, half terrified, half annoyed but most of it admiring the man with the bangs.

The white haired man’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest at the rage he’s feeling - no one ever dares to cross him, especially not a scholarship kid who couldn’t even afford to be there. He is seeing red, eyes bloodshot and focused on Suguru, he’ll rip the confidence right out of him with the bangs everyone is seeming to talk about.

Satoru is ready to fight, when Suguru lazily steps out of the blue Ferrari and throws the keys right back to the owner. When Satoru is in closer range, the dark haired man takes the cash that he’d been given and hands it back saying, “Here’s some cash to get your car cleaned.” Suguru steps back and takes a short pause. “And please, keep the change.”

Being insulted like that on the first day of the new term by some scholarship brat was not on Satoru Gojo’s bucket list. He is red with rage, and throws the sunglasses off and pushes his white hair back from his forehead before raising his fists to hit the new guy, but Suguru’s easy defence only eggs him on more. They’re fighting, but Suguru has a bit of the upper hand with his expertise in martial arts. But soon the two are being pulled apart by the crowd while the rest continue recording the fight. To everyone else, it was a brilliant first day of school, and gossip fodder for everyone for the whole term.

They’re both escorted to the Dean, Masamichi Yaga’s office, the old man not very happy to be dealing with silly boy fist fights on the first day of the newest term. He has been in a nice mood this morning after talking with his bonsai plant, but that’s ruined now. He sounds jolly when he begins his questions, “Boys will be boys, bad boys, right?” His jolly tone deceives Satoru who nods in agreement.

“No, nonsense. This uncivilised behaviour is unexpected from students of St. Teresa,” He scolds them both. “Which one of you started the fight?”

“Sir, he did,” Satoru says, pointing to his left. “He parked in my spot,”

“It was empty when I came,” Suguru counters, annoyed. “It’s not your father’s parking, is it?”

“You know what, it actually is,” Satoru turns to him, nerves getting the best of him. “My father is the biggest trustee of St. Teresa-”

“You must think that your dad pays my salary as well then, Mr. Gojo,” Dean Yaga intervenes in a sassy voice. “You don’t speak like that in my office, Mr. Gojo. Speaking of your father, I’ve invited him as our first guest speaker, so he’ll be here in a day or two. I’ll let him know of your antics then,”

Satoru quickly turns around, white hair flying in all directions as the anger turns into surprise, blue eyes comically widen,“Please don’t, sir.”

“Now shake your hands like gentlemen and don’t repeat this same mistake,” Yaga says, smiling sweetly. He was an eccentric man - kinder and gentler to his plants than to most of his faculty and students. The two men reluctantly shake their hands and share a plastic smile, if only to get out of the Dean’s office.

- - - - - -

“Satoru, you were acting so recklessly,” you say, applying an ointment to the bruise on his cheekbone. The brunette Tanya, not discouraged by your wine attack, was sitting right beside your boyfriend, worrying herself. Shoko, your best friend, rolls her eyes, not very fond of Tanya or Satoru.

“Who does this new guy think he is, not respecting you?” Tanya says instead, feeding into his bloated ego. “It’s good that you taught him a lesson,”

Yu agrees, always the loyal sidekick. “That’s right, Satoru, he had no right to steal your parking spot then humiliate you like that. Bloody scholarship brat.”

- - - - -

“Suguru, you’ve earnt us scholarship kids respect,” Nanami, the blond man of a few words says. “The way you handled Satoru, I salute you on behalf of all of us.”

Suguru raises his eyebrow to acknowledge his classmate, but continues going forward, excited to hear Isamu Gojo talk about his success in becoming a raging business tycoon in the country while coming from nothing.

“Where are you going?” Kento asks. “You can’t go to the front, that’s for the trust fund kids. Come here, sit with your bank account.”

“I’ll sit where I want,” Suguru says with that calm confidence typical of him. He sits down right next to Shoko, who sat with her friends - Satoru and his group of the one-percenter kids. All of your eyes flit to him, but he seemingly doesn’t care - or if he does, he is doing a great job not showing it.

You take note of his bangs, and his hair in bun - you’re half jealous of his hair and partly angry at his treatment of your boyfriend, but you also admire his confidence. Turning back to Satoru, you see him staring at bangs guy, eyes full of spite - it seems even worse than your spite towards that bitch Tanya. “Satoru, don’t,” you quietly whisper to him, putting your hand on his. He only gives an annoyed glance, which hurts you more than it should have.

“Good morning boys and girls, I am very delighted to have our first session with a guest speaker, one of the leading business tycoons of the country - Isamu Gojo!” Dean Yaga says, and the whole crowd erupts in cheers and applause. Satoru is quick to plug his ears with his earbuds, loud music already blaring through. “We’re glad that you could join us today, Mr. Gojo.”

“I hope you are having a wonderful term so far, ladies and gentlemen,” Isamu Gojo says. He too is a big, tall man with white hair and light eyes, the resemblance with his son almost uncanny. “I would like to correct you, Masamichi, I’m the leading business tycoon of the country,” he then proceeds to laugh at his own joke, enjoying the way the Dean and the teacher’s smile drops. “See, I’m not one for guiding you to bookish studies, your teachers are enough for that. Your teachers teach you the rules of the world, but keep one thing in mind: it's the winners who make those rules. So keep up your winning spirit and dedication, and play the game to win - not to learn the rules.”

He beams with pride as the crowd roars in applause, as if he just hadn’t insulted the whole faculty body of the school. Satoru too joins the applause, even though he hadn’t heard a word - he didn’t need to, hearing the condescending words all the time back at home. Somehow, he’s even more spiteful of his own father than he is of the bangs guy.

- - - - -

“Suguru Geto,” The coach says, noticing Suguru after classes a couple of days later. Everyone knows Suguru by now - his fight with Satoru Gojo, then his calm confidence in classes, with his pretty face and unique hair is the talk of all cliques. “State Level Track gold-medalist and martial arts expert… Have you ever played football?”

“I have, sir,” Suguru says, smiling politely.

“Why don’t you come for the tryouts tomorrow?” Coach says. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“I’ll be there, sir.” Suguru promises.

Unsurprisingly, Satoru and his loyal sidekick Haibara are a part of the football team. Kiyotaka is acting as the coach’s assistant - keeping things in order for him. Satoru Gojo’s clique tries so hard to ruin Suguru’s tryouts for the team, attempting to trip him, tackle him, but his graceful movements and power packed kicks are more than enough to defend and dodge himself, all the while managing to score a perfect goal. Satoru’s usually pretty face is creased with frowns and scowls, mood sour at Suguru making it into his team. He’ll be sure to rub the bangs guy in the mud once he is appointed captain, determined to show the coach that the village brat is a bastard.

“Haibara, bring me the keys to the notice board,” Satoru says, a devious plan already forming in his head.

“What are you gonna do with that boss?” Haibara asks.

“Just bring me the keys, Haibara.” Satoru says, annoyed.

- - - - -

Two mornings later, Haibara comes to Satoru with the news that the coach was not happy with Suguru and had ordered him to jog 200 laps of the school ground - which Suguru accepted without a voice of protest. Satoru feels awful for what he’s done - delivering piss to the coach’s house and labelling it as Ganga Jal (our equivalent to holy water) signed under Suguru’s name. He watches as Suguru sends Ichiji off - who was supposed to watch his laps, but continues jogging around the perimeter of the massive St. Teresa ground.

Seeing bangs accept the punishment he deserves changes something in him, it gives him a moment of introspection, of why he was villainising the new guy so much. Sure, bangs had parked in his spot, but the spot was empty when he came. He got selected in the team, but because he was actually good at the game. He was becoming the teachers’ favourite, but that was because he was polite and performed well with just enough confidence. The girls that usually fawned over Satoru and his guitar and his music, were now fawning over Suguru’s voice and bangs, never missing the chance to admire him - but Satoru shouldn’t care - he already has the prettiest girl on campus - you.

After class, the aspiring rockstar swallows the bitter pill and calls after Suguru, “Hey! Hey!” Suguru doesn’t listen, is too engrossed in his book and continues walking. Satoru’s long legs pick up speed, and he’s power walking to catch up. “Oh hello, I’m talking to you, bangs!”

“My name is Suguru, you know?” Suguru says with an annoyed sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, Suguru,” Satoru dismisses, continuing to walk beside Suguru, who bookmarks his spot in the book before turning to him. “I came here to say thanks for yesterday morning. You didn’t have to save us, you know. I could’ve handled the coach pretty easily.”

“I know, I didn’t want to do it at all either,” Suguru says, his voice level.

“Then why did you do it?” Satoru says, his cool-kid facade falling a bit.

“I was trying to act like Mahatma,” Suguru says, upturning the book he was reading. It was a biography of Mahatma Gandhi. “I wanted to know what Gandhi felt like being so idealistic.”

“You’ve got some loose screws, man,” Satoru incredulously says, motioning the loose screws with his large hands.

“I may have some loose screws, but you don’t have any.” Suguru deadpans.

“Very funny,” the white haired man scoffs. “You did listen to my dad, I suppose that is bound to make some impact on you.”

“You know, your dad isn’t crazy, he’s a little crooked,” Suguru says. “Which is a good thing, no one reaches that level of money without being at least a little crooked.”

“Show some respect to Gandhi in your hands, man,” Satoru teases, taking the book from him. “The gods made a silly mistake, you should’ve been my father’s son.”

“Why do you care so much about your father?” Suguru says, taking back the Gandhi biography from him, his thin dark eyebrow raised.

“I don’t care for my father or my mother,”

“You do, you’re seeking validation from them.” Suguru observes. “But it seems like all you get from them is money.”

“Wow, and now you’re an expert in parents’ philosophy, right?” Satoru dodges the accusation that hit just a bit too close.

Suguru looks away, the confident demeanour shaking as he says in a small voice, “I am, now that they’re gone.”

“What do you mean gone, are they on a vacation?” Satoru asks, genuinely confused.

“They’re dead,” Suguru says with an accepting sigh. Satoru stops in his tracks, wanting the earth to swallow him whole in that moment - how could he be so stupid and insensitive? “Quit the dramatics, man, yours are alive.”

“You fucker,” Satoru says, a chuckle escaping him. “You motherfucker,” Suguru smirks, accepting the insincere swearing. Satoru’s blue eyes gleam with laughter and he pats his new friend’s chest and says, “Let’s go to the cafeteria. It’s time for me to meet my girlfriend,”

- - - - - - -

You’re on your way to the cafeteria, enjoying your conversation with Shoko about the newest phone on the market when your good mood is soured by Tanya strutting in your direction, her hefty handbag seemingly weighing her down. Her friends follow her, but you don’t pay attention to them as Tanya comes to a stop in front of you, her head tilted up to look at you and a qualifier smile on her face.

“Have you heard who became the head cheerleader for this term?” Tanya teases, her annoying smirk never leaving her face. “It's Tanya Israni,” She eggs you on, frustrated by the calm smile on your face. “You must be so upset, because this position is only given to the most popular girl of the school,”

“I’m so happy for you Tanya,” You cooly say, stepping a little closer to her. “Good for you honestly,” You cheer her on, enjoying the confused look on her face. Shoko snickers behind you, fighting the laughter from her face. “You know, it’s really not my style to take pom-poms in my hands and scream and dance to catch men’s attention. I much prefer it if they notice me and try to catch my attention, you know. So, I’m so happy you got to be the head cheerleader.”

You pat her shoulders and walk away, Shoko hot on your heels.

At the cafeteria, you’re met with Satoru, your pretty boyfriend, who whips out his guitar and sings a song in your praise, and you eat it all up. It’s been quite a while since you’ve got his attention to himself - with bangs taking up most of his time and energy. You bask in the attention he gives you, eyes not missing bangs and the way his mysterious eyes linger on you as if trying to decipher you.

“All the attention on me suddenly?” You ask Satoru, taunting his last few months of hoeing around. “Are you sick? Or did you finally fix yourself?”

“I’m getting back on track,” He jokes, putting his arms around you.

“Or maybe you just want the world to know that she is still dating you,” Shoko teases. She isn’t a fan of Satoru, but she especially hates him now that he’s started taking you for granted.

“There she is, my competition,” Satoru gently punches Shoko’s shoulder, laughing. “Shoko, did you miss me?”

“In your dreams, Satoru,” Shoko shrugs his hand off, taking a whiff of her cigarette. “Besides, your competition is right here. Suguru, right?”

Suguru nods in acknowledgement as Satoru easily orders Yu around.“Haibara, go get chairs for the girls,”

“Ah, so you’re Suguru,” You say, raising your brow, scrutinising him.

“You’re saying as if you never noticed me,” He deadpans.

“I only saw you, noticing is totally different,” You say, pushing your hair out of your face. “Anyways, I’ve got to run to class now, Satoru. I’ll see you later.” You kiss his cheek and wave at Suguru then grab Shoko and rush to class. Suguru’s dark eyes follow your figure as you leave, trying to see under your rudeness.

“Don’t even think about it, Suguru,” Satoru warns. “That’s my girlfriend.”

“Well, good for you that she’s not my type then,” Suguru says, turning to his friend. “Besides, I have different plans.”

“I don’t care about your plans,” Satoru says, practically radiating with excitement. “I’m just happy that there’s finally someone who can match me.” He then shakes his head and leaves, fixing his glasses on the way out. Haibara returns with the chair, giving an odd look to Suguru, who rolls his eyes and walks away.

- - - - - - -

Friendships, breakups, jealousy, parties - all of it was a common occurrence at St. Teresa. But every other weekend, everyone got a reality check - when they went back to their homes.

At the Gojos back in Delhi, Isamu and Akihiko, Satoru’s older brother, were discussing the stock market and the impact of the changing polls on their organisation over dinner, disregarding himself and his mother. Satoru still tries to bond with them, trying to put forth some of his opinions, “Dad, I think-”

“You think?” Isamu taunts. “Since when did that happen?”

“Satoru, leave the thinking to us intellectuals,” Akihiko says. “You focus on your music, that’s what you have talent for, no? I’ll need your help finalising the music for the sangeet function at my wedding, you know. You can think about that. Leave the thinking about the stock market to us.”

Meanwhile at your residence - your mom and her latest husband discuss the gossip of people you couldn’t care less about. How that couple treated your mother, how the woman blatantly ignored her kind words of advice, how she had a horrible taste for the interior of her house - the same old, same old.

“I’m pregnant,” You abruptly say, trying to steer the conversation to some other direction.

“What did you say young lady-” Your mother starts, and your newest step father looks nearly as aghast as you mother.

“I’m kidding,” you say, rolling your eyes with a defeated sigh. “Please continue,”

Back in Dehradun, Suguru sits for dinner with his family - his Chacha, Chachi, cousins and Dadi, mustering up the courage to finally ask for some pocket money for a chemistry project.

“Suguru, everything alright in school?” His uncle asks.

“Yeah, Chachu, everything’s great.” He bites his lip then finally says, “Chachu, actually I needed some money for a chemistry project-”

“Right,” His Chachi intervenes. “Of course, Mr. Ambani, could you please give him some money from your endless bank account?”

His Dadi beats his Chacha to it, saying, “I’ll give you the money,” then she adds. “There’s a little less salt in the food, but okay I’ll manage.”

- - - - - - - -

With Monday, everything is back to normal. There’s a change in the daily life in Saint Teresa now that Satoru and Suguru have become friends, their friendship quickly becoming one of the best the college has ever seen.

The football team is practising for the yearly match with Saint Lawrence, a match that has been won by their competitors for an unbeatable record of 24 years. Dean Yaga hopes that this will change with this batch, the wonderful players he has got and even more wonderful Coach of theirs.

Coach is in a serious dilemma watching the team practice. Both Satoru and Suguru are brilliant players and would make great captains - but the custom is to have only one captain in the team. Making one captain in favour of another isn’t something he is considering, too much has already happened between the two before they started behaving civilly.

“Yu Haibara!” Coach calls. “You’re the football team captain for this term.”

Haibara, standing between Suguru and Satoru, is startled at first, then he celebrates with delight. The two friends on either side of him share a smile, accepting their unassigned-assigned co-captaincy of the team.

On the day of the much awaited match, you, Shoko, and Kento take your spot in the bleachers, while Tanya and her cheer squad stand right by the field. Your boys in blue and your opponents in red - the two teams come out of the stands and shake hands before taking positions for the game.

It’s a mess right when it starts - the boys in blue are too defensive, but they are too focused on not letting them score, where they miss the chances to snatch the ball away from them which ultimately led to a goal. Twice before halftime. Standing at an embarrassing 2-0, your side sulks and accepts defeat, ready to lose to Saint Lawrence for the 25th time in a row.

But after the half time, your boys in blue have gone from defensive to offensive, never letting the ball pass to the opposing team in red - keeping the ball to themselves. For a moment the ball goes to the red team, but Satoru is deft to act and snatches the ball away from them with a couple of his antics, not violating any rule of the game. He scores the first goal of the match for the blue team. From the humiliating 2-0 the score was now up to a less embarrassing 2-1. Your side erupted in cheers, and you were perhaps the loudest.

The next goal is just as swift, but this time it's Suguru running with the ball, easily distracting their goalie and scoring a goal. The game is now at a tie of 2-2.

The next time, Yu manages to snag the ball from the red players and then passes the ball to Suguru who keeps two of the red defenders occupied while he pretends to go for the goal and kicks the ball to Satoru whose deft attacks give Saint Teresa the final goal of the match - and the first victory after 25 years.

The team and the bleachers erupt in cheers, and the new friends and teammates share a hug. They’re jumping on the field, looking at each other with newfound respect and admiration. Suguru’s dark bangs stick to his forehead and Satoru’s white hair drips sweat down to the grass, which he is quick to wipe with the front of his jersey. The girls nearly lose their minds, but his attention is elsewhere.

“Don't kiss me now,” Suguru teases Satoru, yelling over the crowd.

“I won’t even hug you,” Satoru says as he envelopes Suguru in a bear hug, both of them feeling the sheer joy of winning and making their college proud.

Satoru takes Suguru back home to Delhi after their match to celebrate - the lavish mansion with servants at every beck and call leaving a scanning Suguru further steeling his resolve for his success, the only thing he joined Saint Teresa for. Satoru introduces Suguru to his mother, who seems like a meek, kind woman. Suguru holds his hands together in a namaste before her.

“Your father was asking for you, Satoru,” His mother says, wrapping her saree over her free arm.

“Why, is he unwell?” Satoru sarcastically asks, but follows his mother nonetheless, dragging Suguru along.

“Dad this is S-”

“Suguru Geto, I know,” Isamu Gojo shakes his hand as soon as he hangs up the call. “I’ve heard a lot about you, son. You are a popular name among teachers. I hope your determination rubs off on him too.” The way Isamu talks about his own son, his flesh and blood makes Suguru uncomfortable, but as usual he maintains his air of calm confidence.

“Uncle, but today’s victory is all thanks to Satoru, you know.” Suguru says. “If he hadn’t made the goal -”

“Oh really, I didn’t know you were capable of anything outside of playing that damned guitar.” the older white haired man taunts. Satoru grits his teeth, eyes narrowing behind his round sunglasses.

“He doesn’t appreciate it,” Satoru says, voice bitter. “Especially if it’s me,”

“If you want to hear compliments so bad, do something that matters,” Isamu challenges. “Win that Student Of the Year trophy, then we’ll talk.”

“What's the point in winning the trophy, you won't be happy then either,” Satoru says.

“It’s not about me being happy, it’s about ambition,” Isamu says, turning to Suguru, more welcoming of him than his own son. “You tell me, Suguru, would you win the Student of the Year trophy?”

“That trophy is mine sir,” Suguru says with his signature confidence, his voice smooth and even. “Now we just have to wait for it to get home,”

“That’s the spirit,” Isamu says, patting the dark-haired man’s shoulders. “I’m happy to hear that. Maybe some of your influence will rub off on Satoru with time. Now tell me, where do you see yourself in the future?”

“As you,” Suguru says, then seeing the creased brow, he elaborates on their similarities - small town kids growing up with low money, then taking the market by a storm with sheer force of will and strategic decisions. “Maybe even a bigger business tycoon than you.”

“Now this is ambition,” Isamu says, beaming with pride. “I love your confidence, my son. Maybe not everyone wants to play a guitar now.”

“Let’s go Suguru,” He says, eager to leave his golden cage.

(Vele)

Delhi’s buzzing nightlife is where Satoru takes him for their celebration. Even though it’s just the two of them, Suguru feels strange seeing his friend interact with everyone. Of course, he was familiar with the nightlife, but he’s always been there to work, never to enjoy. Satoru with his fluffy white hair and bright blue eyes and charming words is popular among the crowd - both the men and the women. It takes him some time - a couple days - to loosen up and feel the music.

Satoru is pressing up behind a giggly woman, his signature smirk on his lips and his glasses down just enough to tease the pretty colour of his eyes. He easily moves with her, going beyond just casually dancing with her. Suguru is entertaining a girl as well, but he’s not much into it - he isn’t fond of meaningless connections.

In the morning, they get a smoke - Satoru is so different from his night self - zoned out and blue eyes droopy with a longing. “Suguru… do you miss your parents?” he suddenly asks.

Suguru takes a moment to process the question, flashes of his happier times passing in his head. “Hmm, I do,” He says, nodding.

“Me too,” Satoru says, eyes focused on something and nothing at the same time.

Come the night, Satoru is back to his womaniser self - this time having two women splayed over him rather than just one. Suguru’s mind suddenly flashes your pretty face, and he wonders if you’d approve of his behaviour. He’s disgusted by Satoru’s behaviour, how he’s an attentionwhore but is not letting you go either. He might be too poor to understand your setup, he thinks.

The next night, they’re back on campus and the whole school is celebrating at the nearest club - Satoru is again getting cosy with Tanya, not even noticing you. You’re outraged and want to cause a scene, but you don’t. You don’t know what’s gotten into him in the past year, why he’s been going out and letting women get so close to him. Why did he need this much attention? Why couldn’t you leave him? You go to the bar, and to your surprise, Bangs is the one to notice your sulking self and he gets you shot. The two of you down the bitter drink, and he flashes his. And for some reason, you find yourself smiling even when he’s gone.

The next weekend, Suguru and Satoru are back in Delhi, smoking at their usual spot when Suguru finally asks him, “Do you love her?”

“I’m a little confused,” Satoru admits, looking down.

“About her?” Suguru asks, brow creased.

“About love,” Satoru admits, looking down at his phone.

“Are you gay?” Suguru asks incredulously.

Satoru chuckles, pulling Suguru close with his shirt. “Yeah, I am come here,”

“Oi, shut up!” Suguru smacks him away, laughing.

By the night, Satoru is too drunk, and Suguru drives the blue Ferrari back to the lavish Gojo house, picks up his drunk friend and drops him on his bed. Satoru mumbles at him to stay the night. Suguru too is exhausted, and he’s out like a lightbulb almost as soon as he drops to the bed. In the morning, the loud blaring of an electric guitar in an unfamiliar but upbeat tune wakes him up. Suguru goes to the balcony and sees the Gojo family, minus Satoru having breakfast and decides to join them.

“Good morning Uncle, Good morning Aunty,” Suguru greets them. “We got late last night so Satoru asked me to stay,”

“That’s alright my son, come sit with us.” Isamu says, motioning to the empty chair. “You’re listening to what we have to put up with every morning? Our little maestro is practising,”

“I was thinking I'd ask him for music recommendations for my sangeet but listening to this, I was terribly wrong.” Akihiko says. “It’s just noise.”

“Yeah, son, Akihiko is getting married, you should join us.” Isamu says. “Yu, Yaga, Coach, Tanya and the girl who is too good for Satoru, they're all coming.”

“Satoru didn’t say anything about-” Suguru reluctantly says.

“Yeah, he isn’t invited yet,” Isamu and his oldest laugh at his joke. “No need to worry about tickets and stay, we’ll go via our jet and there’s accommodation for everyone, my son.”

“Thank you, sir.” Suguru says, his smile reserved. He cannot fathom why Isamu antagonises his own flesh and blood this much. Satoru arrives as Isamu and Akihiko leave, and they don’t leave without a taunt. “Mr. Gojo just invited me to your brother’s wedding,” Suguru says, taking a sip of the orange juice as Satoru sits down next to him.

“Wow, maybe he’ll write your name in his will too,” Satoru says, rolling his eyes.

“That’s the plan,” Suguru teases.

“Remember, the dad comes with the property,” Satoru warns, mocking his father.

“With a bank balance like that I’ll handle everyone,” Suguru jokes, and Satoru just shakes his head, unaware of his own privilege.

- - - - - -

The wedding party lands in Thailand with much pomp - the first day they only relax and enjoy Thailand. Your mood is sour again - Satoru spent the whole flight flirting with Tanya and enjoying her advances, letting her touch him in ways that only you should be able to. On top of that Shoko wasn’t there, and now you had to spend the entire weekend with this.

When you land, Tanya starts enquiring about the luggage, to which you say, “Didn’t all of your clothes fit in your handbag?” and Satoru has the nerve to get mad at you - telling you that you should mind your tongue.

“Welcome to Thailand,” Bangs says, when he crosses you.

Later, you go to the resort’s beach, hoping to finally get some time with Satoru - only to see him lying on Tanya’s lap as she smothers his chest in sunscreen. Your sour mood turns bitter, and you go back to your room, eyes threatening to spill. But you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. Was it so easy for him to let loose after four years of being your boyfriend? Was he no longer attracted to you? You ponder with the thought of leaving him, but you don’t want to give him up - you love him, you think, and you don’t want your four years to go to waste.

Unbeknownst to you, bangs was feeling similar towards Satoru’s dismissal of you - seriously questioning his friend as to why he was even looking at other girls with you by his side. If it were up to Suguru and he had a girlfriend as amazing and pretty as you, he wouldn’t even look at other women.

The next morning, you see Satoru with Tanya - whose shrill voice is just a pitch lower than a moan. She’s massaging his back and letting out sounds which can only be described as ones of pleasure. You know about pleasure, of course - but you don’t sound that obnoxious.

“Should I massage your neck, while she massages your back?” You ask Satoru, voice sickly sweet. He takes off his glasses, blue eyes narrowed in annoyance and pushes his fluffy hair away from his face before acknowledging you. Tanya’s hands get more lecherous, a smirk on her face as her dark eyes meet yours.

“What do you mean?” Satoru asks, sounding almost mad at you.

You don’t back down, saying, “I thought you were too fond of massages,” motioning to the way he was sitting in front of Tanya.

“I’m only helping Satoru release his tension, he’s always so stressed.” Tanya says, her voice artificially shrill and concerned. “See, his back has so many knots.”

“Why don’t you open a massage stall then? Everyone in Bangkok would come to you to release their stress.” You snap at her, the dam breaking.

“That’s enough! Why are you acting so insecure?” Satoru has the audacity to get mad at you, looking down at you with such annoyance that you actually start thinking that you’ve done something wrong. “I’m only chilling with my friends, no? What’s so wrong with that?”

The damn holding your tears back breaks, “There’s nothing wrong, absolutely nothing,” your voice breaks and you rush away, tears spilling.

You stand by an isolated spot, away from everyone’s eyes, letting your tears flow freely. Why is everything going wrong between you and Satoru? Did he not love you anymore? Did he ever love you? You can hear Shoko’s voice, telling you to leave him, that you deserve someone so much better than him. If he does all of that in front of you, what’s to say what he does behind your back? She had said.

Suddenly, Bangs is standing beside you, and you’re quick to wipe away your tears. You don’t want to see Satoru’s sidekick come and lecture you - you’ve had enough of that from Haibara, and you don’t want to hear the same thing from bangs. “So typical of Satoru,” You say, voice nasal from all the crying. “He can’t come face me himself, so he sends his sidekick to wipe my tears.”

“Firstly, I’m no one’s sidekick,” Bangs says, handing you a white handkerchief. It has a small back embroidery of his initials. “Secondly, I’m not here to wipe your tears, you’ve got a runny nose.” You take the white muslin cloth and quickly wipe your nose. “You’re the classy type, it doesn’t suit you.” For a moment you think that he’s talking about Satoru, but you’re quick to dismiss the thought. “Now that I’m here, do you want to tell me what’s happening or sing a lovely song for me?”

You don't look at him, focusing your teary gaze on a random spot in the distance. “I’m so fed up with Satoru,” You hate the way your voice sounds nasal, giving away just how much everything was affecting you. You felt weak and exposed, but for some reason you felt you wouldn’t get judgement from Bangs. “I’ve known him for 10 years, been dating him for 4, and from the past year it feels like all of this is a big mistake.”

“Then why not leave him?” Bangs gently suggests, but it sounds more like a genuine question and not a statement.

“I don’t like breaking relationships,” You admit.

“Then do something to get him on the right path,” He says, and you finally look at him, noticing him for the first time.

“How so?” You ask, brow raised.

“Maybe take a wrong path yourself,” He shrugs, the sun hits his shades and bangs perfectly, and you can see the violet of his eyes from this close under the sun. You cross your arms over your chest, a devious plan forming in your head with Suguru’s pretty face in your mind.

(Radha)

In the evening, you decide to take the stage and perform to the song, having coordinated with the music set up and the bride and groom. Akihiko was way too excited to see his brother get put in his place, agreeing to your idea immediately. Everything is a deliberate plan - from your pink blouse to your lehenga skirt and the way it hugs your figure in the most flattering of ways you feel and look hot.

Satoru and Tanya stand in the audience as the music starts to play, stopping the hushed whispers exchanging. Her back is still pressed against his chest, enjoying the warmth he offers. For a change, Satoru has ditched his glasses and is adorning a fancy golden kurta, the colour flattering his pale complexion and white hair. Tanya too is dressed in a sexy golden saree - and they look too much like a couple for your taste. That makes your resolve all the more strong.

Satoru watches with a crease between his white brows seeing a familiar figure on the stage, but her face is veiled by the dupatta, the lighting just dim enough to make the face of the girl a mystery. The music starts to play and when the dupatta veil falls after a few steps to reveal your pretty face - Satoru is stunned. You’re too sexy, all for him to admire. He covers his face, part astonished, part embarrassed. Tanya grits her teeth, but smiles along when Satoru tells her how pretty you look. Suguru on the other hand, dressed in a lovely navy kurta that compliments his dark hair and pretty eyes, raises his hands and cheers you on.

Much to Satoru’s surprise while dancing to the music, instead of coming to him in the crowd, you go to Suguru. An indescribable feeling climbs up his throat at the sight of you dancing and enjoying with his best friend - your steps complimenting each other so well. Tanya tries to distract him, and for a while he is distracted. Until he sees you again - you’re coming toward him so he pushes Tanya out of your way - but you only push him in a mix of playfulness and annoyance and return to Suguru.

Satoru, being the rockstar that he is, easily catches the beat of the music and is able to keep up with your practised steps, trying to get closer to you.

For a moment, the three of you are dancing together, but you lean more toward your boyfriend’s best friend - disregarding him as he has been disregarding you. Somewhere with the music, your Dean Yaga takes up the Dafli and surprises everyone with how well he plays the instrument. You, Satoru and Suguru join him on the stage, and Yaga turns into a blushing mess with all the compliments.

Suguru is surprised to have you dancing this close to him, even with your dance performance over and the DJ being open for everyone. He pushes you away when you get a bit too close, for perfume all up in his nose and your pretty, decorated eyes looking up at him with such affection. He grabs your shoulders and pushes you back a little when you get too close again - worried about all the eyes on him and you - he doesn’t want to cause a scene. He can feel Satoru’s burning gaze on the two of you and he does not like that.

When you get too close a couple more times, he’s finally had enough and grabs your arm to take you away from the crowd, brows creased and a scowl on his face. Suguru doesn’t like this spark that ignites inside him with your pretty face and sweet voice and lovely outfit. He shouldn’t feel this way about you - you’re his best friend’s girlfriend, after all.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His yell isn’t loud, but his voice is scolding.

But the playfulness doesn’t leave your eyes, and you look at him as if he should be in on some secret that he isn’t in on. “You only said to take the wrong path,” you say, a teasing smile on your lips, enjoying the frustrated expression on his usually stoic confident face. “What’s a better wrong path than you?”

“Don’t be stupid, girl,” He scoffs. “Satoru is my best friend,”

“That’s why you’re perfect.” You explain, and your pretty eyes are such a tease, Suguru thinks. “You’re helping your friend by saving his relationship, and I know you won’t try to take advantage of me. Maybe we’ll also become friends by this. It’s not a bad thing, you see. Right?” You put your hands on his crossed arms, your bangles clinking as you try to shake him into agreement

His purple eyes gaze at you for a long moment, and you pretend to fix your bangles, feeling flustered under his steady gaze. You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself if he refused your offer.

“You’re not as stupid as you seem,” Suguru has a rare, genuine smile on his face, calm, steady voice returning. “So… What’s the plan?”

You look up at him with a child-like smirk, twirling your dupatta between your fingers. “Now we’re talking,” you say, then you drag him away.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru’s eyes have been following the two of you and he didn’t know he was capable of feeling such jealousy - until he saw you with Suguru - perhaps the only man who can compare to him. He cannot hear the words you exchanged, but the ways you looked at each other spoke louder to him than any words ever could. Have you ever looked at him like that? Like the way you teasingly looked up at Suguru, batting your pretty eyes at him?

The next morning, Satoru is lying in the sun on the beach, with Tanya sitting behind him, lotion in her hand. He sat up straight on seeing you, eyes peeled and sunglasses off - you’re so hot in a yellow and honey coloured bikini - hair wet from the time you had spent in the water. The sun makes your skin glow like the goddess that you are, trying not to laugh at the way your boyfriend’s jaw has dropped, the girl sitting behind him long forgotten. Satoru half raises his hands, wanting you to sit with him. It’s comical the way both their heads turn when you go past him to Suguru, who was casually laying in the sun, shades on his eyes and reading a business magazine.

“May I sit here?” You ask the pretty guy with the bangs, voice deliberately sultry.

“Yeah, sure,” He says, putting down the magazine and sitting up to make space for you behind him. Satoru and Tanya have extremely confused expressions plastered on their faces, and Satoru looks like a kicked puppy his blue eyes narrowed and lips pouty that you almost let up the act. Almost.

You sit behind him, sure to make your curves stand out just a bit more, fixing your hair to one side. You let out a small gasp, touching Suguru’s toned shoulders over his shirt. “Oh dear, you seem so stressed,” you say in the same sultry voice. “May I help in releasing all this tension of yours?”

“Please,” Suguru says with a sigh, head turned away from Satoru but towards you. You try to ignore the way his voice affects you. But can’t really blame yourself - his already nice voice is now deliberately sinful. You pull his open shirt off his shoulders, admiring his back. You don’t need to pretend to fawn over him, a realisation that disturbs you more than it should.

Taking some lotion in your hand, you begin massaging his back, both of you playing the part well of making noises that sound much like sounds of pleasure - it’s funny the way Satoru suddenly straightens up and Tanya tries to mimic you, trying to get Satoru to make noises similar to the one Suguru was making. The man in front of you sounds incredibly sexy, even if it was just pretend. Your brain begins a thought - if this is how good he sounds when pretending, how much nicer he’d sound with the real - but you stub it before the thought completes.

When Satoru doesn’t make any noises, too focused on the way you’re touching his best friend - the pretty hands that should be touching him instead - Tanya asks him to make some noise, in order to assert some sense of dominance. Satoru lets out a funny noise of complaint, throws his sunglasses in the sand and stalks away.

The two of you giggle and share a high-five, watching the squirming Satoru rush away from you. Your plan was working perfectly.

Later in the evening, you enjoy a stroll on the beach with Suguru, his silky hair down for a change, the wind making it flow in a graceful dance. You’ve never wanted to touch someone's hair this bad ever before, so you reach out and do - his hair is softer than any fabric you’ve ever touched. Suguru gives you a small smile.

He’s mesmerised by the way your eyes soften, the moonlight making you glow. He’s unaware of everything except you, of how your eyes are looking at him kindly, of how you mentioned having a rough relationship with your mother and never knowing your father, of telling you about the time his parent’s car had crashed, taking them away from him.

“He’s gone,” you whisper, and he’s pulled out the trance your eyes had put him in. “You’re such a nice actor Suguru,” you say, a cheery smile returning to your face. “Let’s go back in now before it gets too dark.”

The next morning, Suguru sips his champagne and watches you with a heavy heart, you look so pretty in your white and gold lehenga, dancing to the music with the mehendi drying on your hands. He’s admiring you from afar - seeing as you spot Satoru and make a sour face at him, then turning around to see him with a bright smile on your face. You mouth to him if she looks okay, and he mouths back that you look fantastic, doing the okay gesture with his fingers and grinning. You’ve accidentally matched - the yellows and oranges of your lehenga matching his kurta. Your focus is diverted back to the music, and your dance is graceful.

“Oi, why are you acting like Romeo all of a sudden?” Satoru says, rolling the sleeves of his light blue kurta, seemingly squaring up. “I’ve been seeing this for two days now. What happened to her not being your type?”

“Well, she is now,” Suguru says, taking a sip from his glass.

“Stay away from her,” Satoru says, brow creased and lips pressed in distaste.

“And why would I do that?” Suguru challenges, raising a brow.

“She’s my girlfriend-” the white haired man says, blue eyes wide with rage.

“Since when?” Suguru asks, steadily holding his gaze.

“Don’t play with me Suguru,” Satoru says, ready to snap. “I’m being serious,”

“You? Serious?” Suguru notes. “Satoru, your whole problem is that you aren’t serious. You don’t have the time to be serious.”

“What-” Satoru stammers.

“Meaning that - when was the last time you held her hand? Hugged her? Looked into her eyes and spoke to her? Told her that you love her?” Suguru fires the questions straight at his best friend.

“Who even -” Satoru gets defensive all of a sudden.

“Stop acting like a cool dude.” Suguru asserts. Then, with a smirk on his face, he teases, “Seeing her with me made you jealous, right? You were scared, right?” Satoru can only nod, hiding his eyes with his fluffy hair.

“Good, because that was our scheme to bring you back to the right track.” Suguru finally confesses, seeing his disheartened best friend.

“What do you mean scheme,” He began. “You and -”

“Yeah,” Suguru nods. “You aren’t going to find a girl like her, man. I mean just look at her, she is beautiful.” His voice turns softer, serene, “The way she laughs, the way she dramatises things, names fashion designers on little things. She has the brains, the anger, but she has the right too. She lacks love and affection, she wants love. She isn’t too clever, maybe that is why she is in love with you.”

Satoru is truly stupefied by his friend’s assessment of you. “You’re so sweet, Suguru,” he teases, playfulness back in his crystal blue eyes. “You did a PhD on her just to put some sense into me.”

Suguru puts his hands on his friend’s shoulders, encouraging him, “Okay, now go and be nice to her. If you let her go, I’ll catch her.”

Satoru elbows him, saying, “If you do that, I’ll kill you.” He steps away, but a thought bothers him, “Are you sure you dont like her?”

“Her?” Suguru teases. “It’s you-”

Satoru smacks his shoulder, but then pulls him into a hug. He’s so grateful to have a friend like Suguru, how he showed him what he was doing wrong.

The sound of your name from Satoru’s smart mouth has you turning around, and he takes that opportunity to finally wrap his arms around you, muttering, “I’m really sorry baby,”

“Shhh,” you hush him. “It’s said that hiding your boyfriend’s name in your mehendi, if he finds it then it may be a love to last different lifetimes,”

He takes your hand, his blue eyes full of adoration, “Shall I try?”

“Yes,” You snarkily say, taking Tanya’s hand and handing it to him.

And finally he ignores her in favour of you, muttering your name like an apology. You’re not yet done testing him, so you wipe the wet mehendi on his face, smearing his porcelain skin a dark muddy colour.

In the evening, during the wedding ceremony, as the bride enters with her brothers and uncles, you rush - the stubborn jhumki not locking properly. You hastily motion for two more minutes to the other bridesmaids, running and trying to put the jhumki on your right ear at the same time. Fortunately you see Suguru, and show him the state of your jhumki, unable to keep the smile off your face. He thinks you’re adorable like this, annoyed at a stubborn piece of jewellery.

Suguru takes the jhumki from your hand, instead styling your hair in a manner to keep the missing earring hidden. His purple eyes are so expressive in their appreciation of your yellow-gold outfit and makeup - it makes you feel so beautiful. His large hands are gentle on your hair and it comes as no surprise that he was so good at styling your hair.

You join the bridal party quickly, spotting Satoru, who makes a gesture of heat on seeing you, you return his gesture - but with a throwing-up one. He laughs, but the smile disappears once he sees his father hug his older brother, so full of pride that he’s never seen.

Tanya is quick to snatch the silver tray of rose petals in your hands, and you laugh, running your hands through your hair only to feel your absent jhumki, suddenly remembering Suguru. You turn around, trying to find him, only to see him already looking at you, a pretty smile on his pretty face. You motion him to come closer to the mandap, and when he refuses, you walk over to him and grab a hold of his arm, wanting him to stay close to you. He still refuses, but he has a smile on his face, a smile worth swooning over, you note.

A heavy hand settles on your shoulder, and Satoru’s blue eyes sparkle with a smile as they take you in, wanting you to stay with him. You refuse him at first, not wanting to leave Suguru behind, but when his bangs move as he shakes his head, allowing you to go, you let up in your attempts to get him. Satoru takes you right out of his hands, taking you close to the mandap and sitting behind the bride and the groom.

He has a quiet laugh on his face when you make a face at him, and you cannot recall the last time he had been this nice to you. Pushing that thought behind, you look at the rituals, when Satoru elbows you, telling you without words that soon you’ll be in place of his brother and sister in law. You’re quick to dismiss him, too quick, smacking his hand off yours.

- - - - - - - -

After the wedding weekend, Suguru has become a little more distant, only speaking when spoken to.

Shoko is on her way to class when she sees Suguru’s usually inexpressive eyes filled with a deep longing, only to see you and Satoru in his line of sight. You still hadn’t gotten the time to catch her up to speed, but she cannot mistake the softness of his eyes. You’re sitting on Satoru’s lap, with him making you giggle over something, his white hair all up in your face.

“Hey,” She says, walking up to you and Satoru. You say a cheerful hi, a beaming smile on your face.

“Your boyfriend’s here, baby,” Satoru teases. He gently punches her shoulder, saying, “Hey handsome,”

“Can we do this later?” Shoko asserts. “Come with me,” She tells you. You kiss Satoru’s cheek before getting up and walking out of his earshot with your best friend, curious about what was bothering her.

The sound of your name has your attention, and she begins, “Look, I don’t know what happened between you guys this weekend,” she pauses, looking into your eyes. “But I just saw Suguru, and I think that he likes you,”

“Suguru? Are you mad?” You dismiss her concern with a small shake of your head. “Satoru and I are now stable because of his help,”

“He was staring at you girl,” She says. “Only one-sided lovers look at other people like that,”

“You were also staring at him,” You tease, bumping against her shoulder with a chuckle. “Sorry, you were observing him,”

“Don’t try to act so smart now,” She says, a frown on her face. “I just let you know what I saw, the rest is your choice.” Shoko walks away, leaving you staring at her brown bob.

You think over her words for a moment, and your feet involuntarily take you to Suguru. He was easy to spot in the crowd - his tall stature and his dark bun gave him away easily.

“Good morning, Suguru,” You say, trying to be cheerful.

“Morning,” He acknowledges you, voice back to his indifferent confidence. He’s quickly turning around, not waiting for you.

“Listen!” You call, and he turns to you. “I just wanted to thank you once again…”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” He says, quickly turning away once again.

“Suguru…” You say his name, fiddling with your fingers. You don’t know why you feel this nervous. He wouldn’t be the first guy to like you, but then why was your heart beating so furiously, why was your face burning. “Is everything fine? Like between the two of us?”

“No, nothing is fine,” Suguru says, fully turning to you. His cold indifference hurts you more than you’d like to admit. It hurts in a way different from Satoru’s indifference. His indifference makes you mad, but Suguru’s detached voice makes you sad. You don’t know if it's a good thing or a bad one.

You suddenly feel the need to explain yourself for some reason, words coming out with a stammer, which was unlike yourself. “Suguru, I love Satoru,”

“I know,” He says, his voice even. “Are you telling that to me or yourself?” Your taken aback by his question, but before you can answer, he adds, “I came to Saint Teresa with one thing in mind - to make a better future for myself and win that Student of the Year trophy… got distracted for a bit, but now I see my goal crystal clear, and no one can come between me and the trophy now.”

The Competition

Dean officially announces the SOTY competition open: four phases and eight finalists and one winner. Starting from the aptitude exam, to the treasure hunt, the dance competition and the final triathlon - the competition is meant to judge the students on all grounds, and only the one who is the best at everything wins.

Everyone is spending their every waking minute preparing for the aptitude assessment in their own way - hiding the fact that they are studying from their friends. You pretend to read Vogue instead of your textbooks, Shoko pretends to sleep but holds up a torch in her comforter to read. Nanami stacks books on top of books, the ever studious man of the school. Satoru pretends to compose music but he’s actually going through his statistics notes, with you helping him with his coffee and providing motivation to each other to study. Suguru has grown a little more detached from your circle, but he doesn’t hide the fact that he is preparing for the exam. Tanya is spending her time preparing - to cheat, that is, making her settings with the nerds. Haibara tries to mug everything up, but finally gives up and starts focusing on his prayers instead.

Come the time of the result announcement - all of you make it to the top sixteen, moving on to the next round - the treasure hunt. To everyone’s surprise - Tanya makes it into the top 16, with the 16th position, Satoru makes it to the 10th spot, you make it to the 6th, Shoko makes it to the 4th, Suguru to the 3rd, Nanami to the 2nd. But to everyone - even Dean Yaga who was announcing the result, he had to take his glasses off and read correctly - it was Yu Haibara of all people that got the 1st position. Nanami nearly lost his mind, with Ichiji having held the blond man back to stop him from attacking Yu right there.

Once the gang's all outside, Kento grabs Haibara by the collar of his blazer and demands, “How the fuck did you get first?”

“I don’t know, I just said Jai Mata Di and marked all the answers,” Haibara says.

“Nanami, stop being such a drama queen,” Satoru complains. “All that matters is that all of us are in the top 16 now. What does it matter who wins or loses?”

“It matters,” Suguru says, volunteering in a conversation involving someone other than Satoru for the first time in days. “We have big intentions, and you have an affluent dad. You can easily join any university per your choice… We don’t have that privilege.”

“You’re after my dad so much,” Satoru says, making gestures with his hands. “Please take my dad and give me your intentions instead.”

Suguru just shakes his head at that, but Tanya intervenes with her sultry voice, “If you want my intentions,” she twirls her hair. “I’ll happily give them to you.”

You can feel Satoru’s hand raise, but you push it down by his shoulder, yet he still manages to blow a kiss in her direction. “The entire college knows of your intentions, Tanya,” You say, pushing down your boyfriend’s hand which blows a kiss at her yet again despite your efforts. “We’re drifting off topic here. We were talking about the competition and I believe there shouldn’t be any competition among friends. Right, Shoko?”

“Right…” Shoko says. “That’s why you were hiding when you were studying?” Satoru pushes you away, but you still hold his arm. Shoko continues, “Come on guys, if our goal is the same, there will be a competition,”

Satoru makes a pouty face, hissing to tease her,“Shoko, does that mean to win the competition yourself, you’ll make your best friend face defeat?”

“Yes,” Suguru says without hesitation, and all heads turn to him. “Perhaps,”

“He’s kidding,” Satoru chuckles, but Suguru doesn’t add to that, turning the pages of his book instead.

A couple days later, the top 16 after the aptitude test got to the fun part - the treasure hunt involving the entire campus. Four teams of four members each.

Suguru, Haibara, you were in one team, Team A; Satoru, Nanami, Shoko and Tanya in Team B and the rest were divided into two other teams. Taking their first clue, the teams rushed to solve the riddle to get to their respective locations.

Suguru opened the clue card, reading out the riddle: Neela Asmaan Upar bhi Neela Asman Neeche bhi, paana hai jawab, toh gehrayi me jaao janab. (Blue sky above, blue sky below too, If you want to get the answer, then go deep sir.)

Haibara whines on hearing the riddle, snatching the envelope and scanning it as if to see any answer that maye have been hidden. “Yaar, what does this clue even mean? How can there be a sky up and sky below too? The first clue itself has our hopes running in the water,”

“Haibara, you’re a genius!” Suguru says, grabbing the brunet’s shoulders and shaking him.

“Really?” Haibara beams, before Suguru yells, “No!” leaving him confused. Suguru takes off, leaving the three of you to chase him with your shorter legs.

Meanwhile, Satoru opened Team B’s first clue and read out the riddle: Atit ki muskaan hai ajit ki pyaari, Nazron se peechha kare, adbhut hai ye naari. (The smile of the past is Ajit's beloved, follows you with her eyes, this woman is amazing.)

“Who’s this Ajit?” Nanami asks. frowning. “Any faculty member?”

“No, it’s not a faculty member,” Satoru says, thinking hard.

“I only know one Ajit (Ajit Khan),” Nanami says, and Satoru catches up. The both of them simultaneously say, “Mona darling, sona kahan hai?” (Mona darling, where’s the gold? - an iconic dialogue)

“Anywhere,” Tanya says in her sultry voice, playing with her hair. She’s just happy to be part of Satoru’s team.

“That’s it!” Shoko screams. “It’s the Mona Lisa!” and the four of them take off running to find the room with the Mona Lisa.

In the meantime, Suguru reaches the swimming pool, where you, Haibara and your fourth teammate frown, when Suguru recites the riddle again and deciphers it to be the swimming pool. He’s quickly taken off his shoes, socks and t-shirt and jumps into the pool, finding the next clue at the bottom.

You open the clue as Suguru puts his shirt and shoes back on. The clue reads: Ped bhi hu aur nahi bhi, baat karo toh sunu bhi, khoobsurat hu aisi mai, ke baat kare guru bhi (I am a tree and I’m not, if you talk then I listen, I’m so beautiful, that the teacher also talks to me)

“Tree, the plantations?” Haibara suggests and the four team members rush from the swimming pool to the plantations.

Team B finds Mona Lisa in the assembly hall, a brick with her hair holding the clue. Even Satoru has to jump to fetch that clue. The second riddle read: Farishte ne gaaye zindagi ke geet, asmaan se aayega unka mit, sade nau baje unka milan, jawab degi suraj ki kiran. (The angels sang the songs of life, their friends would come from the sky, meeting at nine thirty, the sun's beam would answer.)

“Where will we get angels?” Tanya dumbly asks.

Satoru leans close to her, and says in an annoyed voice, “In the canteen,”

“Really?” Tanya says, seemingly believing him.

The answer suddenly strikes Satoru, and he yells out, “The Church, the Church! We have only five minutes to nine-thirty, run!”

It’s hard for Shoko and Tanya to keep up with Satoru and Nanami’s long legs, but they somehow manage. They reach the church just in time - and the sun beam is falling on the Hymn Book of the choir. Satoru is quick to snatch the clue out of the book, and reads: aakhri padav aakhri mystery, kitni majboot hai aapki chemistry (Last stop, last mystery, how strong is your chemistry)

“Let’s go, chemistry lab!” Satoru yells, and Team B rushes away.

“Wait, wait!” You yell, stopping your teammates. “It said tree so we rushed here, but there is no guru visible!”

“Yaar are we looking for this guru or the plant?” Haibara asks.

“We’re looking for the clue,” Suguru deadpans.

“I’m telling you this is not working,” You pant out.

“If you have any other bright idea why don’t you share it with the class?” Suguru says, annoyed.

“Why are you being so mean?” You snap.

“Yeah, man, leave bhabhi alone,” Haibara says, at which Suguru snaps even worse than he did at you. “Abey! Bhabhi hogi teri.” (idk how to write this in english)

“Who is the guru on this campus?” You ask, catching your breath.

“Waheguru?” Haibara prompts.

“We don’t have a Gurdwara on campus, Yu!” You say, frustrated.

“Well, there should be one!” Haibara protests.

“Take that up with Yaga!” Suguru says.

“That’s it!” You jump, clasping your hands as if releasing them would take your answer away. “The guru is Yaga! He’s famous for talking to his bonsai plant!” Then you all rush off to Dean Yaga’s office, finally finding your third clue. You snap the envelope open as Suguru lifts up the bonsai plant, and quickly start reading out loud: aazad hindustan ki peheli awaaz, khamosh kamra batayega yeh raaz. (The first voice of independent India, a silent room will tell this secret.)

“The silent room! It’s the library,” Suguru yells and all of you run to the library.

“Nanami, fast, grab the envelope!” Shoko yells. Satoru beats him to it, opening it only to find a blank envelope.

“What man, Nanami, it's blank!” Satoru gets frustrated and shoves the envelope to Nanami.

“I’m sorry on behalf of the organisers!” Nanami snaps back.

Shoko snatches the envelope from Nanami, shushing the two idiots up. “Let me think,” she says.

“Now what exactly are we looking for?” Haibara asks once you are in the library.

“Independent India's first voice…” you mumble trying to recall your history lesson. “It was Nehru,” you remember.

“Tryst with destiny!” Suguru suddenly remembers, and the four of you rush to the history section.

“You were right, Shoko!” Nanami says, rubbing the ammonia solution on the black envelope. “The ammonia makes the ink visible!”

“Okay okay, now what does it say?” Shoko asks, jumping with excitement.

The final clue is same for everyone, the riddle saying: khush toh bohot hoge tum ki yeh hai aakhri padav, savere waali ghanti se paar hoga yeh chadav, dhyaan se padhna isko aur dena apna sujhav, kyunki upar waale alfaz karenge jeet ka chunav. (You will be very happy that this is your last stop, this climb will be crossed by the morning bell, read this carefully and give your suggestion, because the above words will choose the victor.)

“The morning bell?” Haibara mutters. “Our period bell?”

Team A runs from the library, climbing up the stairs to try and reach the period bell. On their way, they spot Team B, already higher up in the floors, closer to the period bell of the school. Suguru, Haibara and you find the step ladder and pull it near to the bell, and Haibara quickly climbs up the ladder as you and Suguru hold on to it for stability. Meanwhile, Nanami has taken to walking on the roof instead of taking the normal path, surprising everyone.

Soon it’s a race between Nanami and Haibara, and Haibara wins, striking the bell first. Just then, Ichiji comes and yells, “It's the wrong answer!”

“Oh! Oh! It’s the bell tower!” You yell, excited as you realise the answer. Suguru tries to shush you, but you yell again, “It’s the bell tower!”

“Thanks, bestie!” Shoko yells from above, and the next chase is between you and her, and she is faster. From the lecture building to the bell tower it’s a hard chase, and you’re already too out of breath, so Shoko manages to climb the stairs more swifty than you can. You reach the top just as Shoko rings the bell, only to be told that this answer is wrong as well.

Both your teams have gathered back in the ground, with all eight minds thinking over the riddle over and over. Aaj khush toh bohot hoge tum, Suguru and Satoru seemingly share a brain cell and think of the iconic dialogue of the movie Deewaar. In the scene of the dialogue, Amitabh Bacchan’s character can be seen ranting to the goddess in a temple.

They both look at each other, spelling out a swear word and sprint off to the in campus temple. They are both fast, but Satoru has an upper hand of not having his drenched pants weighing him down. It’s an intense run down between two best friends having a fun rivalry - running to win rather than to defeat. Satoru takes a head start, but Suguru’s track medals have not been in vain and he manages to outrun Satoru and hit the bell just a moment earlier than Satoru, falling to his knees on the white marble of the goddess Saraswati’s temple, both of them bursting out in laughter and sharing a high five.

After Dean Yaga congratulates Team A and praises Team B’s performance, Satoru puts his hand on Suguru’s shoulder and pats his chest. “Let’s go celebrate, you win, Suguru,” He says, peeking up at him from behind his glasses. “I want to go home with you?”

“Why do you want to go home with me?” Suguru asks, raising his eyebrow.

“I am craving some home-made food,” Satoru says. “Come on, please,”

“You don’t have food at your house?” Suguru teases.

“I’m bored of my home’s room service,” Satoru replies.

Suguru shakes his head, patting Satoru’s shoulder, “Let’s go,”

“The food is fab, Dadi, it’s fab!” Satoru says, quickly gulping down a spoonful of the rajma and rice.

“You should come more often then, son,” Dadi says, a cheerful smile on her old face. She looks amazing for her age - most of her hair is still black and her eyes hold a youthful charm with the wisdom that comes as one ages.

“I had to invite myself, even today,” Satoru chuckles. “Do you know - your grandson isn’t normal. Did he fall as a baby?” Dadi laughs at that, but Suguru’s Chachi makes a sour face.

“Aye, shut up and eat your food,” Suguru says in his deadpan voice.

“Suguru, that is not the way to speak to guests,” His Chachi chides. She turns to Satoru, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Satoru, son - Can I call you son?” Satoru nods with a spoonful in his mouth. “You look much more charming and handsome in real life than you look in those Page 3 photos,”

Suguru and Dadi share a glance, stifling their laughter at Chachi’s comment. “Save some butter for the chapatis, Geeta.” Dadi scorns.

“Butter is expensive, Mother,” Chachi sneers. “We only have words to work with in this house,”

“We’re shareholders in your dad’s company, Satoru,” His Chacha says, trying to dissolve the tension. “Suguru, you must take some tips of the stock market from him and share it with me,” he chuckles. “Let us benefit from your friendship,”

“I’ll make use of his friendship,” Suguru says with a smile, holding Satoru’s gaze. It is a smile shared between friends, meaning unknown to others. “I’ll use him to my benefit so much that I’ll leave him behind,”

“Of course, you should buy the Taj Mahal,” Chachi snaps, her voice ringing in everyone’s ears. “Dreams don’t need any money,”

“Dreams are for duffers like me,” Satoru suddenly says, unable to stand the way Suguru’s Chachi speaks to him. “Suguru is a blue-chip investment. He will make you guys millionaires. You’ll see,”

Suguru’s dark eyes are filled with such adoration and respect for Satoru - for he has never had a friend believe in him this much. His support meant the world to Suguru, and he thinks that maybe letting people get close to him isn’t too bad.

He walks Satoru to the door, calling after him before he manages to get to his blue Ferrari. “What you said in front of Chachi, it felt nice,” Suguru says in a small voice, hands shoved in his jeans pocket and eyes on the grass. “Felt like my own person was saying it,” When he looks up to meet Satoru’s blue eyes, he adds in a teasing voice, “I didn’t know Mr Gojo’s useless son had this talent,”

“Yeah roast and compliment me in the same sentence,” Satoru shakes his head with a smirk. “Is that how you say thanks?”

“Okay, I’ll say it,” Suguru inhales a deep breath. “Thank you,”

“Thanks,” Satoru says, nodding as he studies Suguru closely. “Why do you always hide your emotions?”

“Why are you talking like a woman?” Suguru tries to dodge.

“I’m talking about my heart and feelings,” Satoru admits with a sigh. “There’s no one back home who will listen to me, and I don’t think [name] really gets me. So I thought I’ll try to speak to you,”

“I too lack practice in that matter,” Suguru confesses. “Those who listened to me are gone now, and Dadi has hearing aids.”

The two friends chuckle, and Satoru says, “So basically we are in the same situation,” he puts his hands on Suguru’s elbows, adding, “Whatever happens, we will always share it with each other.”

Being a tease is Suguru’s defence mechanism, so he says, “Are you going to kiss me right now?”

“I won’t even hug you,” Satoru punches his shoulder. “Okay, I’ll see you.”

“Suguru!” His Chacha’s voice comes from inside the house. “Call an ambulance - Mom - I don’t know, just call an ambulance, quick!”

Satoru follows them to the hospital, and Dadi is being taken to the critical care unit - the doctor says she had a cardiac arrest. Suguru is following them, worry written all over his pretty face when Chachi suddenly stops him, asking him where he thinks he’s going.

“Dadi-”

“We will look after your Dadi,” Chachi sternly says. “You bring bad luck wherever you go,”

Suguru doesn’t fight back, but the words cut deeper than any superficial wound ever could. As soon as his Chachi turns around, Suguru nearly runs out of the hospital, Satoru hot on his heels, calling after him. He tries to console him, but Suguru only pushes him off.

“Suguru,” Satoru says, hugging him despite his protests. He returns the hug after a moment, then pulls away quickly feeling the lump in his throat threaten to explode. “Are you okay or do you need another hug?”

Suguru smiles with tears in his eyes, not letting them fall. “I’m okay,”

The next morning, you’re there with flowers in your hands, ready to see Suguru. You wave at him with a small, reassuring smile and a frangipani bouquet in your hands - he’s holding your gaze, and to your surprise, he returns your smile and waves back.

“Suguru, I know you’re mad at me,” You say once you’re close to him. “You don’t even look at me lately, I don’t know what I did wrong but - ”

“I’m not in the mood to listen to your sad rants,” He says, voice breaking. “Dadi is unwell,”

“I know,” You say, exasperated. “That’s why I’m here Suguru.” His eyes hold so much grief and pain in them, and you want to hug him, let him cry on your shoulder and tell him that you’re going to be there for him no matter what - but you refrain. “Are you okay?” you softly ask.

“I’m okay,” Suguru nods, then turns to you, examining your outfit - it’s a short green dress with a low neckline and a pullover over it, with knee high boots. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?” You ask. He eyes your clothes, and you begin to explain, “I know, I know - I don’t have any clothes suitable to come visit the hospital. I am going to go shopping today though.” He is extremely confused and you add, “I want to come here daily, Suguru.”

Suguru’s smile - so full of gratitude and his usually stoic eyes full of tears - welcome you and you take that as a step forward. You don’t know why you’re so giddy at him letting you come visit. You never bothered making friends with Satoru’s old friends before coming to Saint Teresa, but right now he’s the farthest thought in your heart when you look at the man in front of you; so vulnerable and needing support, but without the voice to ask for it.

“Happy birth-” You accidentally say while handing him the flowers, then turn away quickly, embarrassing yourself. Why you turn so stupid around him, you have no idea. He makes you nervous, you want to impress him, want him to think that you’re both pretty and smart, that you’re worthy of - what, you don’t know. You fear the answer, so you don’t dwell on it.

(Ishq Waala Love)

You turn around to look up at him, playing your embarrassment off with a confident smile on your face, and Suguru teases a smile at you, putting the frangipani to his chest.

Walking away, you’re suddenly intercepted by Satoru - he takes you by surprise - wrapping his arms around you with a cheerful greeting of “Hey, baby,” and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You had completely forgotten about him while you were with Suguru - but the pretty man with his black bangs doesn’t leave your mind while you’re in Satoru’s arms, his white hair tickling your forehead. You push him back a little, trying to put some distance between the two of you as your eyes flit back to Suguru - he’s already looking at you, back to his grieving self.

The next day, you’re back dressed in a yellow and orange suit, strutting to Suguru and Satoru sitting on the bench outside. Twirling the ends of your dupatta between your fingers, you deliberately make a show of ignoring Satoru, batting your eyes at Suguru, saying, “I want to meet Dadi,”

“No,” Suguru says, his voice soft, matching his violet gaze.

“Why?” You ask, brows knitted. “Am I not dressed correctly?”

“Yeah,” Satoru says, his voice is soft but has an edge of laughter. “Let’s go to the mandir?” You narrow your eyes at the laughing duo and stomp away. Satoru follows after you when Suguru tells him to, eyes crinkles with laughter.

Later, you sit beside Suguru when he is with Dadi, who is passed out on the white bed, connected to many machines. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, so close but so far away, too many things clouding your hearts and minds.

You’re sitting between Suguru and Satoru, the three of you drinking coffee and making jokes, when you’ve subconsciously leaned against Suguru, your head on his shoulder, looking up at his pretty smile with a toothy grin of your own. You hold his arm for a moment before coming to your senses and putting a little distance between the two of you. Satoru puts his arm across your shoulder and pulls you close, but his embrace doesn’t bring the familiar warmth. You push him away, annoyed at his lame joke and take the empty cups from both the men, throwing them in the bin.

It's the final time for Dadi, time for everyone to say their goodbyes. Suguru sits outside her room, his tall frame sulking and alone, bangs half trying to hide the pain and sorrow in his eyes. Your heart cries for him, wanting to embrace him, to show him that you will be there for him no matter what, that you care for him and you won’t hurt him.

Suddenly, Satoru is in front of you, caressing your cheek with his gentle touch, fingers roughed up from his guitar, asking if you want to go get coffee with him. It’s like you are suddenly doused in cold water, pushed out of your trance, and you blink rapidly to get a grip on reality before telling Satoru that you aren’t in the mood for coffee. He squeezes your hand with a smile before leaving you.

The sight of Suguru pressing his hands to his eyes has you right back in that trance, chest rising and falling rapidly as you feel his pain. You sit beside him, trying to give him a smile of confidence, but your eyes betray your worry. He returns your smile with a half smile of his own, but his pretty eyes swam with tears, head lowered, bangs hiding his face. You put your hands on his interlaced ones resting on his lap, rubbing small circles on the back of his hand with your thumb. You cannot stand seeing him in such pain, ready to do anything to make him go back to the guy you had met in Thailand, cocky confidence rubbing off on you. You don’t say anything, holding his teary gaze. He gives you another half smile at your comforting touch, and your eyes soften - you have the sudden inexplicable urge to hold him, let him melt into your embrace and cry his eyes out into your chest as you stand between him and this cruel world, caressing his back and kissing the top of his head. His smile falls, and the intensity of his pretty eyes has you rethinking everything, chest rising and falling rapidly as he lets your smaller hand fall between his two large hands, squeezing it.

When Dadi wakes up for a bit, Suguru takes you to see her, and you greet her softly then excuse yourself, giving them some space. You watch from outside the room as he speaks to Dadi, his back to her, shaking from holding back his cries. Dadi says something and he turns to her, holding her hand and breaking down crying, lying beside her as she weakly comforts her sobbing grandson. You’ve started crying with him, wiping your tears only to have them fall out immediately after.

The only good thing to come out of it was the fact that Suguru was with his Dadi when she passed peacefully in her sleep, surrounded by her family.

Suguru had become withdrawn after Dadi, not saying anything, keeping to himself. He barely even spoke to Satoru, and the others didn’t even see him outside of mandatory classes. Even in the classes, the ever active and teacher’s favourite Suguru had stopped answering, zoned out in most classes he attended.

Suguru is in his dorm, putting away his dirty laundry when you walk in the open door, hands held together in front of you. “Satoru’s dorm is a little further ahead,” He says, barely even looking at you.

“I’m here to see you,” You say, voice shaking.

He stills for a moment, his expression bitter. “To give me your condolences?” He forces a smile. “Thank you,”

“Satoru was saying that you don’t want to see anyone,” You start, inhaling a deep breath to keep your voice steady. You step closer to him and his desk as he grabs a book without any particular reason. “Staying alone like this-”

“I have to make a habit of staying alone,” He snaps, voice breaking at the end. It breaks your heart, tears welling in your eyes at his throaty voice. “Everyone who was close to me is gone.” He composed himself a little, adding, “You should stay away, or you’ll die too.”

“You need a friend-” you softly say, your body pulsing with your frantic heart.

“We can’t be friends!” He suddenly raises his voice, and you have to blink back the tears of frustration. You don’t know why his words cut so deeply, you’ve never cared this much about other people - not like you care about Suguru. “You want to be friends with me?” He looks at you for a moment, inhaling a composing breath. “Thank you,” he says in a small voice.

You’re staring at him by standing by his desk, back to you trying not to think about why it was affecting you so much, finding any other thing to make him talk. His pretty hair is messy and unkempt, and you want to take care of him, treat him to all the good things in life. That is when you spot your jhumki - sitting right on his desk at the edge of a mug. You remember that jhumki, the one you had been struggling to put on back in Thailand, and the way that Suguru had touched your hair to hide the missing earring. You remember his touch, his gaze, and how he had agreed to help you save your relationship.

You grab it from his desk, feeling a grin curve your lips. “Please leave,” Suguru says, seeing you around his desk. “I told you I don’t want to see anyone,”

“But Sugu, this jhumki won’t look good on you,” You teasingly say, maintaining an air of innocent confusion. “Not without it’s complete pair,”

Suguru has a pretty smile on his face, one that you are delighted to be the reason for. You purse your lips, looking at his pretty face and messy hair, taking little steps closer to him and finally hugging him like you’ve wished you could for a long time. Much to your delight, he hugs you back, head resting on your shoulder sniffling to hold himself back from crying.

Suguru is the one to pull back from the hug, pushing out the hair that has fallen to your face as you longingly look up at him, his gentle touch making you lose your mind. His large hands fall to your neck, thumb behind your ear as your eyes flit down to his pretty, worried lips then back to his eyes, the delicate touch of his thumb tickling you in just the right way. Heavy breaths fill the little space between you two, leaning closer with your eyes closed until your lips brush against his.

Your hands on his back pull him closer, and one of his hands goes behind your head while the other goes down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as your lips move against each other. The familiarity of his touch has your mind short circuiting - his kiss brings a calm security instead of the anxious butterflies, the movement of your lips and tongues filled with such desperate longing - a longing for affection and love rather than lust, the gentle kiss of a lover, worshipping, all consuming and caring. You’ve never been kissed like this before, like you are a prayer, like he is afraid that you’ll disappear as soon as he opens his eyes. It was wrong what you were doing, but then why did it feel so good? So right?

When he pulls back, you want him to kiss you more - you can see it in the sad gleam of his eyes that he doesn’t want to let you go either. His pupils dilated and brows relaxed, it’s a rare sight, and it’s a sight that you’ll never forget.

There’s a shuffling sound behind you - heads turn to the room's door only to find a distraught Satoru - hands fall to your side at the sight of Satoru’s big blue eyes filled with tears, you chase after him as he storms away without a word and you begin to chase after him, calling out his name.

“Satoru, I’m sorry! Listen to me!” You plead.

“Just leave me alone,” He says, throwing his bag. Satoru is out by the common area and there’s a swarm of students surrounding you three at the noise.

“Satoru, please!” You plead, reaching out to him with your hands raised.

“Just leave me alone and don’t touch me,” He yells. Kicking down a random stack of chairs.

“Just listen to me, please!” You plead, your voice breaking. You manage to grab his shoulders, but he is quick to push you off, face red and eyes glowering with anger. “Just leave me alone, I said!” He yells, louder this time. Suguru is quick to intervene, only to be pushed away by Satoru. It’s turning into a brawl and you hate it, you hate it so much. You hate your stupid heart, you hate yourself for not listening to Suguru and staying away from him like he asked you too. Your heart aches seeing the sheer heartbreak on Satoru’s face, his usually bright, humorous eyes filled with rage and betrayal and you despise that you’re the cause of it.

“You keep your mouth shut!” Satoru yells, somehow sounding even angrier at Suguru. “You have no class, no civility! I should never have talked to poor people like yourself. I am - was - your best friend, and you’re there kissing my girlfriend?! You are no one’s person!” He is pushing Suguru harder with each word, and Suguru accepts it, not even trying to fight back. He too has tears pooling in his eyes, messy hair falling to his face. “This is why you have no one to call your home.” Satoru’s welled eyes have turned red with rage, and with each shove his anger only seems to grow. “Everyone is dead! You mom, dad, and now Dadi-”

That is what snaps Suguru, the mention of Dadi and he punches Satoru with such force that his best friend nearly falls down. Suguru picks him up, only to punch him in the face again. “If you say anything regarding my mom and dad, I will break your face,” He snaps, voice colder than ice. “You aren’t even your mom-dad’s person, how can you even be my best friend? All this talk about class and status, what do you do? All you do is use your dad’s influence and money.”

“Dad’s money is all that you’re after right?” Satoru doubles down in his vicious words. “That’s why you befriended me, right? You wanted to have a life like me - and now you’re also stealing my girlfriend?!”

“What’s this girlfriend-boyfriend thing, huh?” Suguru doubles down as well, high from the anger coursing through his veins. “She never loved you, and you-? You’ve been out there everywhere putting your face on every other girl you see. You’re calling this a relationship? You have no right to call her your girlfriend!”

“You’re no one to tell me of my rights,” Satoru yells, holding Suguru’s t-shirt’s collar, ready to throw another punch. “She is mine, mine only!”

“Why don’t you ask her whose she is?” Suguru challenges. “She loves me, and I love her!”

They’ve started throwing punches everywhere, the whole school watching their brawl unfold. Satoru hits, Suguru punches, it’s a mess - a mess that you cannot stand, for reasons you aren’t ready to accept yourself. You walk up to them, tears glistening in your eyes and yell at them to stop. They do, but the air is still thick with tension as you speak, “What do you even know about me? About my feelings?” You speak to the both of them, voice breaking. “Nothing! And the sad part is, you aren’t even willing to listen! You just want to win me - I am not a part of any competition. I am not a prize. I am done with this whole thing.”

Suguru looks upset, ashamed of himself, but Satoru only looks angry - and you don’t know what pains you more. You rush away, before anyone in the gathering crowd as a chance to stop you and hide in your dorm.

Satoru’s anger doesn’t subside even as he reaches home. Even as his mother shows concern for the bruises on his face, he only pushes her off, not in the mood to see anyone. If his mood wasn’t already so bad, it got worse as his father came up to stop him, demanding that he treat his mother with respect.

“Look at yourself!” Isamu Gojo scolds with a yell. “You look like a street thug! Who did you even fight? Answer me.”

“I don’t want to answer anyone,” Satoru says, meeting his dads angry gaze.

“You have to, you’re living under my roof,” Isamu snaps. “I’ve tolerated your misdemeanour for so long. You can’t behave properly at home, at least mind your family’s image outside of the house.”

“You’ve not made any good image, Dad,” Satoru finally says, swallowing the angry lump in his throat. “The only thing you’ve made is money.”

“That’s the money funding your life, you know?!” Isamu yells, eyes wide in anger. “You only know two things - having fun and making a fool out of me,”

“What are you ashamed of, hm?” Satoru asks, lips wobbling as he speaks. “That I don’t want to be an industrialist? That I want to be a musician?”

“Yes! I’m ashamed that my son has such middle-class dreams!” Isamu yells back.

“Dreams don’t have any class,” Satoru says, blinking away his tears. “But only a dad would get that, not a twisted man.” Isamu slaps him, and Satoru’s voice finally breaks as he says, “I have no wish to live in your house, and I don’t want to be your son,”

“You’ve lost the privilege of being my son,” Isamu says, an angry frown on his face.

“When was I ever your son?” Satoru asks, then turns around to leave. His mother tries to stop him, but he pushes her off once again, vowing to himself to never turn back, to never step foot in any of his father’s properties again and to never take a penny from this man.

He is filled with a new determination to win the Student of the Year trophy - to prove everyone and himself that he wasn’t useless, that he was more than Mr. Gojo’s money made him. His goal had now shifted from winning the trophy to defeating everyone else - particularly Suguru.

The second last stage of the competition - the prom where everyone needs to bring a date - is close and everyone’s preparations are in full swing. The campus gym is occupied and people are busy finding dates and practising their steps, for no one ever wants to lose after coming this close.

Satoru has become a loner, avoiding even Haibara during lunch hour. Suguru too is back to his quiet self, speaking only when he deems it to be necessary. You… Well, you’ve had the worst burnt of their fight somehow - utterly messed up with your own emotions - your mind says one thing but your heart craves another, you’re avoiding everyone like they are the plague.

Shoko finds you sitting all alone, eyes distant. “Hey, what’s up?” She asks, sitting beside you. “Who are you going to prom with? Satoru or Suguru?”

“It’s not funny, Shoko,” you say with a frown. “The whole school is gossiping about me now,”

“Ignore the gossip,” Shoko says, voice serious. “Tell me about your feelings,”

“I don’t even want to think about them!” You’re exasperated, torn by your own moralities and desires.

“You love Suguru,” Shoko sternly says, trying to talk sense into you.

“Shoko, Satoru and I-”

“What about it?” She stops you. “There was nothing there - you were angry and miserable for most of the time. It was not a match made in heaven, rather a match made in your elite circles.” Her concern is genuine. “I know you’re confused right now, and you’re allowed to be confused. You should take some time. Your heart will answer for you.”

“There’s this competition right in the middle of everything,” You sigh.

“Then leave it,” Shoko suddenly says, an idea forming in her pretty head. You turn your head to her, eyes wide. “This stupid competition is not more important than your feelings, right?”

You discreetly scrutinise her fidgety behaviour and say, “You’re right, I won’t take a part in this competition. Disqualifying isn’t that bad,” you turn to her just as she suppresses her smile. “What do you think?”

“I’d have done the same thing, if I were you.” Shoko says, squeezing your shoulder in support.

The next evening, Shoko jogs up to Haibara after her gym session, saying, “Haibara, I’ve decided that I will be your date to prom this year,”

“You aren’t going to be my date,” He says, voice sassy. “You’re late.” He sounds thrilled saying your name, “She has already asked me to be her date.”

Shoko storms into your shared room and sees you checking yourself out in the mirror, seeing which dress looks pretty on you. You barely pay any attention to her as she angrily stomps her feet.

“Are you seriously going to prom with Haibara?” She practically spits out.

“Yeah, I am,” You say, feigning innocence. “I suddenly thought, why should I even let Satoru or Suguru influence my life?”

“And why did you think of that so suddenly?” She asks, voice bitter.

“Shouldn’t you be happy?” You say, frowning a little. “I don’t get this reaction,”

“What do you mean?” Shoko says, her breaths suddenly heavy with the way you’ve caught her little scheme.

“You know exactly what I mean, Shoko,” You say. “But I am not giving up on prom just to reduce your competition,” You look her up and down once, adding, “Because, lets face it, you and dance is like me and poor,”

Shoko rapidly blinks, then says, “You’re so disgusting,” she turns to leave. “I don’t even want to talk to you,”

You pat her shoulder, and bat your eyelashes, “I’d have done the same thing, if I were you.” echoing her words back to her.

Shoko leaves your room, walking to put as much distance as she can between the two of you. In the basketball court, she sees Suguru, alone and begins rambling about your confused state under her breath, pretending that she didn’t see him.

“Shoko, are you okay?” He stops her and asks once she is close to him.

“No, I’m not okay. I’ve just fought with her.” Shoko says, not hiding her anger. “She is such a drama queen I’m so tired of her!”

“Why what happened?” He asks, thin brows creased with concern.

“She says she’s confused between you and Satoru,” She says, and Suguru instantly turns to the ball in his hands, avoiding her angry brown eyes. “But she is going to prom with Haibara, so Satoru gets jealous. Then there’s no confusion, right?”

“Right,” Suguru hesitates, turning to the basket instead, his bangs hiding his heartbreak.

“Anyways, I don’t want to be in the middle of all of this,” She says, brown eyes gleaming with excitement, seeing the effect of her words on Suguru. “I’ll speak to you later, okay?” She walks away, praying that her little scheme works.

“Shoko,” He calls after her, and her heart does a little dance at her plan working out. “Who are you going to prom with?”

“No one,” She says in a small voice, her lips pulled down in a frown.

“Haibara, please help me find a date to prom,” Nanami asks, sitting on the edge of his friend’s bed. “There’s no one willing to go with me,”

“I love you Nanami,” Haibara says, sitting up with his hand on the blond’s shoulder. “But I cannot go to prom with you,”

“I don’t want to go to prom with you, I want you to help me find a date to the prom, man,” Nanami says.

“Nanami, leave,” Satoru says, storming into Haibara’s room. Nanami grumbles under his breath but leaves the two alone. “Haibara, you’re taking her to prom?! Who do you even think you are?”

“I’m Haibara,” He says, frowning.

“Did a rabid dog bite you or something?” the white haired man shakes his head, irked. “Are you crazy? You go, you go and tell her that you can’t be her date to prom.”

“Hey! Stop it,” Haibara yells. “I don’t need your permission to do things in my life. I’m not your servant.”

Satoru chuckles, shaking his head. It’s demeaning. “What about all that time you spent on my credit card, hm?”

Something breaks in the brunet’s heart at the mention, so he says, “But i’ve also given you full service for that time,” He has a rare, angry frown on his face. “Haibara, park the car, Haibara, bring me a drink. Haibara, can you take her to the mall for me, please? Can you bring her an apology card? Now Haibara is taking her to prom as his date, arm in arm and you can’t do anything about it.”

“You too are showing your class,” Satoru says through gritted teeth.

“You are no one to talk about class, Satoru.” Haibara taunts. “The only thing you have is daddy’s money, and now you don’t even have that,”

“Satoru, don’t be so upset now,” Tanya says, running her hands over his chest by the swimming pool. She undoes her robe, pressing herself against his chest, saying, “If you want… I could be your date,”

(the disco song)

The much anticipated prom night and dance competition is now here - eliminating four out of the twelve competitors - only 8 finalists and one winner of the trophy. Suguru-Shoko, Satoru-Tanya, Haibara-You, Nanami-Ichiji and the rest of the participants stand in the front, arm in arm with their dates in front of the judges with Dean Yaga introducing you to the two women. The tension in the air is thick and palpable, with everyone waiting to see who will snap first under the pressure. It was dance or disqualification, and everyone wanted to eliminate their competition.

Suguru and Shoko sneak a glance at you - Shoko with a proud smile and Suguru with a distant longing, and you feel yourself tearing up seeing your friend in his arms, by his side. You turn your head, happening to meet Satoru’s gaze. He has Tanya on his arm - the sight of it making your blood boil. You feel indifference, the discontent in your heart at the sight of Shoko and Suguru evaporating with the anger. You are there to win.

The music plays and the competitors start with their opening steps. You’re half jealous of the way Suguru and Shoko move together so gracefully, painfully reminded of that time in Thailand that you had danced with him. Satoru and Tanya have bolder dance moves, the bitter memories of the past year feeding into your determination to move to the next round.

You dance with Haibara, it’s not as natural as it had been with Suguru, but you will have to do it. You’re both there to prove a point.

The solo dancing has you moving more gracefully, and you hope that the judges give you some extra points for the performance you put up. Suguru and Satoru perform their own well practised sequence with the music - you don’t feel much looking at them now, without their dates.

The competitors dance with the beats of the music, Suguru twirling a rarely graceful Shoko in his arms and Satoru spinning with Tanya in his arms. Haibara has you in his arms in a dance similar to waltz, and you put on your best smile for the judges. For a moment, in your head, you are with Suguru - with him easily manoeuvring you around, your steps perfectly in sync and your smile turns more genuine.

The music shifts and your partners change, you land into Satoru’s arms, looking right into his mellowed blue eyes so full of repentance and regret. You cannot stand to look at him, all the nights that you’ve stayed up crying at his antics flooding your memories as you turn away from him. The familiarity of his chest against your back and his breaths on your neck as you cringing. You thank the heavens as the music shifts again - Satoru spins you around and stomps away from you in anger, the memory of you kissing his best friend too fresh a wound.

The heavens tease you with kindness, turning cruel as you end up in Suguru’s arms, unable to look away from his pretty purple eyes, his hair smooth against your hand on his chest. It’s too much - the memory of his gentle touch, his easy smile, the warmth of his lips against yours, the sight of your best friend with him. Oh you want to embrace him so bad it makes you want to cry. This competition is a cruel joke - destroying your relationships and playing with your delicate heart like some child’s toy. You cannot bring yourself to look away from his eyes, so soft and gentle as he steadily holds your gaze with moist eyes even as you step back and move away from him, hands moving from his chest to your sides and you leave the stage, barely holding back your tears.

Satoru has been eyeing you, his heart breaking into a million pieces as a cold acceptance replaces the warmth of his affections for you. He now knows - it was too obvious, you never looked at him like you looked at Suguru just then. The acceptance is what he needs as he resumes with this solo dance, determined to snatch that trophy away from Suguru.

Suguru blinks away the tears the sight of yours brought, and he has to physically restrain himself from running after you. You need space, he thinks, before remembering the trophy that had started all of this in the first place, restarting his solo dance as he loses sight of you, the determination to win that trophy dulling.

Satoru, Shoko, Suguru and Haibara are four of the eight from the now-split gang that make into the finalists, ready for the final stage of the competition - the triathlon which begins with swimming, then cycling and ends with track.

Suguru sees Dean Yaga with Mr. Gojo one afternoon, only greeting Yaga with a good afternoon.

“Hi Suguru,” Mr Gojo shakes his hand with a bright smile. “How are you?”

Yaga beats Suguru to it, beaming with pride, “By the way, Suguru and Rohan are both in the top 8. It’s gonna be a tough battle, Isamu, not easy.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Isamu says, shaking his head.

“Well, you will say that,” Yaga says with a smile. “Satoru is your son, after all.”

“That’s why I’m saying this,” There’s something in Isamu’s voice that ticks Suguru off in the wrong way. “Suguru will win, my money is on you.” Isamu pats his shoulder, then says. “Good luck,”

The whole time, the top 8 finalists spend their time training for the triathlon - timing their swimming, working out their legs and spending time on the cycle. It's an intense couple of days, with much tension but no drama.

On the day of the triathlon, you sit in the bleachers by the swimming pool, watching your friends stretch and get ready before the swimming starts. Satoru’s eyes are determined and challenging Suguru, whose face hides his internal conflicts. Somehow, his eyes find yours in the buzzing crowd, and you give him a small smile, which he returns before putting his goggles on and getting ready to dive.

It’s Shoko with her slim body and fast reflexes that finishes the swim first, and quickly gets out and puts on her shoes before running out to the cycles. Haibara is next, followed by Suguru ahead of Satoru by a fraction of a second. Once out of the surveillance area, the brunet is quick to catch up to Shoko and push her off track and into the grass, promptly disqualifying her.

Satoru, fueled by rage, powers up and puts everyone behind on the cycling path, with Suguru close behind him, his internal battle now in favour of winning the trophy. Satoru is the first one to enter the race track, followed by Suguru. There’s a distance of more than 10 metres between them when Suguru starts running. Satoru runs on red rage while Suguru has the skills of the track, easily catching up the distance. Ultimately, the battle for the trophy is between the two of them and no one else.

The last few seconds are intense, Suguru has caught up on the distance, and the both run parallelly now, in the bleachers, Isamu Gojo is cheering for his son’s defeat, while his mother looks concerned. For a moment, Suguru has overtaken Satoru, everyone is sure of his victory, when Suguru slows down a bit and adrenaline pushes Satoru. The smile on Isamu’s face fades as the chances of his son winning increase. Suguru’s eyes close for a moment, and Satoru becomes the first one to push the ribbon, by a mere hundredth of a second. He’s unsure of his win, but the angry frown on Suguru’s pretty face has him accepting it.

The crowd breaks out in cheers, celebrating Satoru’s win.

Later in the evening, after everyone has changed into formals and put on the Saint Teresa blazers, they assemble in the hall, waiting for Dean Yaga to finally hand the trophy to Satoru Gojo. Nanami isn’t himself, having spent the entire week disappointed in himself and Yaga - for making this competition unfair and breaking apart his friend group.

“Boys and Girls, I’m delighted to call on the stage,” Dean Yaga’s awfully cheerful voice cuts through everyone’s ears. “The Student of the Year, Satoru Gojo!” Satoru smiles at his mother’s delight for his victory, and goes up to the stage as the crowd cheers for him. “Congratulations, many congratulations,” Yaga says as he hugs his student. “I’m so proud of you, my boy. All yours.”

“Thank you,” Satoru says, voice more serious than usual. “Each student of Saint Teresa wants to win the title of the Student of the Year. In 25 years, there have been many successful students who won this trophy,” he pauses for a moment. Satoru’s pale nose is unusually pink, as if he has spent his time crying. “I don’t want to insult anyone - but I cannot accept this trophy.” He explains, “I have my reasons, reasons that I have no wish to explain.”

The hall falls into a stunned, confused silence. You, Shoko, Haibara are all confused - he wanted to win that trophy so badly, then why was he suddenly refusing to accept it? What even happened? He walks down the stage, stopping in front of his father for a second, a smirk on his face and shaking his head at the sombre old man, then walks away.

Suddenly, Nanami loudly claps his hands in the crowd, drawing everyone’s attention and making Satoru stop in his tracks. He gets up from his place and continues clapping. “Well done, Satoru, well done!” he says, his appearance dishevelled. “Good for you! Good for you!” he turns to the crowd, “Hey! Why aren’t you all clapping now, when you should?” He takes the hand of a student and claps his hands together. “Clap your hands!”

“Nanami! Behave yourself,” Yaga scolds from above the stage. “Are you drunk? The school will not tolerate this behaviour!”

“School?” Nanami chuckles with irony. “You know what Dean, to hell with this school, and to hell with you!”

“Nanami!” Coach gets up from his place, angry at his behaviour. Suguru gets up and tries to take Nanami away, but the blond stops him.

“This Student of the Year trophy was your idea, right?” Nanami turns to Yaga, clicking his fingers. “Then you should get the award.” He pretends to pick up an award from Suguru’s empty chair. “Here is your award for the most stupid idea!”

“All because you didn’t win?” Yaga’s voice is condescending. “Look at yourself Nanami, what were the chances?”

“Yes, I lost.” Nanami admits. “But why did I lose?” he’s raising his hand, pointing his finger to Yaga. “Because of you and your stupid rules. Guys and girls will run together, a date is mandatory for the prom,” he comically dances in his drunk anger, saying in a sing-song voice, “dance to win the trophy,” he turns back to Yaga with a chuckle. “But who cares, who cares if this idiot can’t dance? And who cares that people like us,” his finger goes back and forth between himself and Yaga. “Who cares that people like us can find a partner? You should’ve known that,” his tone is accusatory and he’s beginning to cry.

Your heart cries in sympathy, while Satoru and Suguru inch closer to him, trying to get him to stop. “Let me speak, this stupid drama has been going on for 25 years now,” Nanami challenges. “Why? Because Dean Masamichi Yaga has no entertainment in his own life. He’s alone, and he wants to break all our friendships too. You know what, you are a jealous, lonely and very unhappy man!”

Yaga’s face has reddened and his eyes welled up behind his signature glasses. He’s stunned into silence, but Nanami continues, “Congratulations, sir! Your final episode is a complete hit! You ended two years of friendships within two weeks.” His voice only gets louder. “We all hate each other!” He raises his hand in a military salute. “For that, I wanna salute you, Dean Masamichi Yaga!”

He drops the navy Saint Teresa blazer at the Dean’s feet and stomps away, pushing Satoru and Suguru on his way out.

Ten years later

Nanami’s phone rings in the middle of the night, who answers, grumpy. “Hello,” the voice on the other line says something. “There’s no Ichiji here… OH! Ichiji!” He wakes up as realisation hits him. “Hi! How are you? What? Okay, I’ll come to Dehradun as soon as I can. Yeah, no worries I’ll find them on instagram.”

Now in Dehradun, Nanami, Haibara, Shoko and Tanya recall their time back in Saint Teresa from a decade ago, when Satoru enters the hospital. He’s changed completely - a black blindfold instead of his round sunglasses make up his performer personna - the rockstar Satoru Gojo. Although, he’s ditched his blindfold in favour of square glasses.

Tanya, just wrapping up her divorce with her fourth husband, is awfully delighted to see Satoru. He hugs Shoko, saying, “You’re looking like a girl now,” gesturing to her long brown hair.

Shoko shakes her head, saying, “I’m a doctor and a mother now. You’re a great person too now,”

“The consequence of leaving my father behind,” He jokes.

“I’m so proud of you,” He says. Satoru spots Haibara, and envelopes in a bear hug, the anger from a decade back forgotten. “Haibara, how are you doing?” He playfully punches Nanami on the shoulder. “How are you, man?”

“What did the doctors say?” He asks, enquiring about Yaga’s condition. Just then, their old coach comes in, complementing his intense, rockstar appearance. Satoru has piercings on his left ear now. He hugs Ichiji, now the new coach at Saint Teresa, walking with him to see the critically sick Yaga.

Suguru gets out of his white Mercedes sedan, dressed in a navy trench coat with a grey sweater vest underneath and a striped scarf warming his neck. His hair has grown out in the last 10 years, long straight hair falling down till his waist. Half of it is tied in an updo. He hasn’t changed as dramatically as Satoru, but he has grown a lot more confident and assertive.

He gets to the other side of the sedan, opening the door to offer you his hand, never wanting to let you open any doors since the two of you got together. You’ve been married for three years now, and you’re the happiest when with him. The only wish you have is that you could turn back time and have things go a little differently than they have, maybe everything would be even better, then.

Getting off the elevator, the first person you see is Shoko, who smiles sweetly at the two of you. Suguru gives her a side hug, greeting her kindly. He then leaves the two of you, knowing there are things left unresolved.

“Hey, Haibara,” Suguru says, deliberately not greeting Satoru right beside him. The long haired man with delicate features instead goes to greet Nanami and Tanya, seeing them after a long time.

“It's been a long time,” Shoko softly says, brown eyes apologising more sincerely than any words ever could.

“Yeah,” You raise your arms, hugging her. Pulling back, you shake your head with a smile. “I hoped you might call after having your baby… Such ego,”

“It wasn’t ego, it was shame,” Shoko admits.

“It’s all in the past now, forget it,” You say.

“What was even the point of doing all that?” She repents. “I’m still a normal person,”

“Let’s leave all of that,” You say, shaking your head. “Show me the pictures of your baby now,” Shoko smiles brightly at you and shows you the pictures of her little baby girl. “What’s Tanya up to, these days?” you quietly ask her.

“Looking for a new husband,” She whispers to you. “I’d advice to keep Suguru away from her,”

“I trust him,” You say, dismissing her concerns and she gives you a knowing smile. “I'll have to keep him away from someone else though,” you turn to Satoru.

“Hmm,” Shoko still has that teasing smile. “It’s a hospital, wrecking it won’t leave a good impression,”

“Exactly,” you say. “I’ll be right back,”

You walk up to Satoru and Haibara, greeting them both. Haibara leaves quickly, giving the two of you some space. You haven't spoken to Satoru since that day when everything went wrong. But you hug him for a short moment. He had been an important person in your life, afterall.

“You didn’t even invite me to your wedding,” Satoru playfully complains. “I would’ve been there from the bride’s side. I have that much right, don’t I?”

“Shut up, Satoru,” you tease him back. “What’s with that intense look?” you ask, gesturing to his all black appearance and piercings.

“A musician’s appearance must reflect his pain,” He explains. “Otherwise the music doesn’t sell, you know?”

“I’ve listened to your music, you know.” You admit. “Your latest album is amazing,”

“Does he let you listen to my music?” He asks, nodding to Suguru.

“He secretly listens to it himself,” You chuckle. “But he won’t admit that. Come meet Sugu now, come on.”

“Na-ahn,” Satoru shakes his head. “You married him and are showing your authority over me. That's not how it works,”

Suguru’s outside, texting on his phone when you find him. “It’s been ten years now, Sugu,” you try to reason with him. He pockets his phone with a sigh at your words. “What’s to lose by saying a little hello?”

“He shrieks in his songs, he can come say hello too,” Suguru counters with his soft voice.

“You’re an investment banker Sugu, not a child,” You try to convince him, placing your hand on his arm.

“And you’re my wife, darling,” He says, his eyes kind as he looks down at you. “Not your ex boyfriend’s lawyer.”

“Ex boyfriend’s lawyer, where did that come from?” You say, brows creased and nose scrunched up.

“I saw you hug him,” He counters, making you sigh. “Feeling affectionate?”

“That’s disgusting Sugu, come on,” you drawl.

“What else were you expecting?” Satoru’s taunting voice suddenly interrupts you. “He has billions in his bank but the class of a penny,”

“What did you do with your high class, huh?” Suguru snaps back, but his voice is still a model of serene calm. “You’re playing that guitar like a courtesan in front of an audience,”

“But I give great hugs,” Satoru says, turning to you with a raised brow. “Right?”

That breaks Suguru’s calm facade. He menacingly steps between you and Satoru asserting, “Bastard, mind your mouth. You’re speaking to my wife.”

“She was my girlfriend that day when you kissed her,” Satoru angrily snaps, pushing him back. Suguru punches his face, the martial arts expertise not left too behind with his stock market capabilities. Their fist-fight out in the hospital’s garden has your friends gathering, with Nanami and Haibara rushing to pull them apart at your request, only for Shoko to stop them.

“Don’t,” She says. “It’s an anger of ten years, let them get it out.”

A moment later, Suguru has Satoru's face bruised and pinned to the ground, yelling right in his face, “Why are you so angry, Satoru? It’s not just because of my darling wife,” Satoru’s red face is an angry grimace, wincing in pain. “You didn’t even love her. Then why this anger?!”

Satoru pushes Suguru off himself, standing up and pointing his finger to him accusatory. “You deliberately let yourself lose that day!” He yells, white hair flying in all directions. His mind flashes back to the triathlon from ten years ago. “Why did you do that?” He pushes Suguru, emphasising his point. “Why?!”

“Because your father was a nasty, twisted man!” Suguru answers with a yell. “He was rejoicing seeing you lose, he was wishing me luck to defeat you.” Suguru confesses, retying his messed up hair. “I wanted to be like your father, but even I couldn’t be this twisted. I thought,” Satoru’s blue eyes have lost all that electric rage, leaving behind teared up eyes on realisation. “In that moment, I realised that I could defeat the most powerful man of the country by making you win,” He inhales a deep breath before continuing. “My dad was dead, Satoru, but yours wasn’t a dad either.”

“I dealt with my dad when I left him and his name,” Satoru says, his shove gentle now. “I didn’t need your nobility,”

Suguru shakes his hand, chuckling at his ironic statement. “Nobility, wow!” He incredulously says. “What about that drama you pulled off on the stage? Huh? What the hell was that?” Suguru’s brow is creased and he’s poking at Satoru’s chest, speaking through gritted teeth. “If you knew everything that day, why didn’t you say anything in front of everyone? In front of you dad?” He answers his question himself, “Because you wanted to show to your father that you actually won,”

Satoru throws a punch at that, and Suguru returns a harder one, busting his lip. “Don’t hit my face so hard!” Satoru complains, holding his large hand against his busted lip.

“Bloody loser,” Suguru mumbles under his breath, wiping the blood on his knuckle and feeling his bruised cheekbone.

“Hey! Who are you calling a loser?” Satoru gets defensive. It’s a true comedy - how fast their fight boiled over and turned childish. “All last five of my albums have been platinum hits,”

“So what?” Suguru competes as well. “My banking business has a turnover of 500 million,”

“International music labels chase me!” Satoru claims. (it's the truth)

“Companies beg me for mergers,” Suguru claims (also the truth)

“When I perform, Wembley shakes,” Satoru yells.

“One snap of my fingers shakes the stock market,” Suguru claims.

“I’ve been with a hundred women-” Satoru says, forgetting himself in the heat of the moment.

“And I have my darling wife-” Suguru says, not hearing Satoru. “Wait what? A hundred, really?” He asks in his calm voice with his brows raised, eyeing him.

“Yeah, plus or minus ten,” Satoru has calmed down as well, but he is terribly embarrassed at his admission.

“Plus or minus?” Suguru asks.

“Probably minus,” Satoru admits.

They both burst out laughing - it starts with a smile, going to a chuckle then a full blown laughter. “You haven’t changed a bit, you bastard.” Suguru decides.

Quieting down for a moment, they assess the damage, when Satoru slowly turns to his friend. “Are you about to kiss me right now?” Suguru teases.

“I won’t even hug you, motherfucker,” Satoru says as they hug.

Dean Yaga dies with people he cared about surrounding him, happy to see that Suguru and Satoru have rekindled their friendship. Their broken bond weighed heavy on his heart, and he passed peacefully on seeing his old students back together. Satoru and Suguru are back at Saint Teresa’s campus, this time as alumni - there to show students to follow their hearts and maintain their friendships instead of seeing them as competition.

A/N: it took me nearly two weeks to complete and the last 7k words i wrote in one sitting, my hands were numb but we finished it and i've proofread it once (please ignore any errors) special shoutout to my desi girlies here, we've all wanted to be shanaya at one point lmao. I hope ya'll enjoyed it because it was fun writing this hehe. Also the reason I have Satoru or Suguru first is because here in india we address each other by first names for the most part

#gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #satosugu x reader #stsg x reader #stsg soty au #satoru gojo x reader #suguru geto x reader

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