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#and been trying to Not Be a Part of It since i was in my teens
neil-gaiman · 2 days
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This isn’t a question, but I want to thank you for your books and how they’ve impacted my life.
Over thirteen years ago, I read Neverwhere for the first time and it changed what kind of writer I wanted to be. I went on to read more of your books—my other two favourites were The Graveyard Book and The Ocean at the End of the Lane.
About 11 or so years ago, I asked you on Twitter if I could read Stardust on a Twitch livestream, and you responded, “Fine by me”. It was one of my best streams, and while life got in the way of me doing more, I still remember it incredibly fondly.
Ten years ago I had a baby, and while he was an infant, I read him, Fortunately, the Milk, in an attempt to read him a book. He didn’t seem interested. I decided I’d try again some other time perhaps. But I did resolve to get him to read The Graveyard Book someday.
Nine years ago, when I was a mother of a one-year-old, I posted a status on Facebook simply saying, “We do not forget.”
Two years ago, I went on holiday, and I downloaded the audio book version of The Graveyard Book from our local library. My eight-year-old son listened to it as he fell asleep, though he ended up missing some parts, and we shelved it.
Last year, he read Coraline and didn’t like it. That isn’t your fault. He read Charlotte’s Web and didn’t like that either. He just didn’t quite have the understanding for them.
This year, he read Coraline and liked it. I told him it was from the same author as The Graveyard Book. He lamented that he never finished The Graveyard Book, and I said he could always download it from the library again.
Then about a month ago, he and I went through a tough time. I was really stressed about life, he wasn’t doing so well either, and our relationship got strained. I was angry with him all the time. I needed a break from him, or I thought I did. But one day when he was at his dad’s I realised that I wouldn’t get this time back. That I needed to fix it. So I asked him if he wanted me to read to him at bedtime. Just like when he was little. And we settled on The Graveyard Book.
On nights when he got to bed on time, I’d read a chapter. It often meant stretching past bedtime, but I could never stop halfway. It had been years since I’d read it too, and I found myself remembering things I’d forgotten. I’d watch his dark eyes widen whenever things got exciting, and I loved when he would interrupt me with an important revelation. “It’s Scarlett! His friend!” he’d say. “The dog! The grey dog!” “I know what Silas is!” He would tell me that I did the voices so well, that it seemed to match each character so perfectly.
We didn’t read every night, but it was a treat when we did. One night we had an argument and he told me he hated me. That he wished I was dead. And that he wanted to be with his dad. I told him to go take a shower, and that I’d ask his dad to come get him. His dad said no, but agreed to talk to him on the phone. After the shower, my son apologised for what he said. I said okay, and told him to call his dad to chat. After their call, he asked if we would still have story time. I asked if he preferred that or to have some space. He said he wanted both, but wanted story time more than space. So I read to him. It was the chapter when Bod and Silas argued, and then apologised to each other. Halfway through that chapter, my son asked for snuggles. I said, what happened to space? And he said, “I want snuggles more than space.”
We were sad when it ended. We finished it last weekend. I cried as I read it. But it was a beautiful sadness. We’ve talked about it a bit since then, to process it. He says he would like to read more about Silas and Bod’s adventures and asked if there was fan fiction about it. I told him to look, and to write some if there wasn’t. Perhaps I’ll write some too, just for him.
Last night he was at his dad’s and I was browsing Facebook and sent him a couple of his old pictures. Then I found an old post. From exactly nine years ago. And so I sent it to him.
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It brought tears to my eyes. I did not remember making that post, and I’ve forgotten a great deal over the years, but I hope I do not forget these little moments with my son. But even if I do, I have them written down here to remind me again.
And thank you. For the words you’ve written and the impact you’ve had on our lives and hearts. I hope that your life holds the same amount of joy and love that you’ve given to others with your words.
That made me so happy. Thank you. I hope you and your son keep growing together.
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sunkissed-zegras · 3 days
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★ RIZZLER P ─── PB⁵ (part 2/2)
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౨ৎ ─ summary | part one -> y/n is a youtuber and on the cancelled podcast, she reveals she has a crush on paige bueckers. y/n gets invited to her first game of the season and they have a lot of fun! part one!!!!!!!!!!!
─ warnings | literally nothing but banter and fun, slight paige slander (but its from kk and ice so its ok), idk what else. oh brooke and tana being protective but its in a sweet way. also i love this mini series i loved it
─ ev's notes | sooo im trying out a semi-new format, lmk if yall like it!!!!!!!
⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!
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Paige 💕 (paigebueckers) started following you.
Paige 💕 wants to send you a message. Hey, I heard you were into D1 basketball players? 😉
The message stuck out to you, your stomach dropping as you read the message request. You couldn't help but grin as you read her playful message, the nervous energy in your stomach now morphing into a thrilling anticipation. With shaky hands, you tapped on the message request, your heart pounding in your chest.
You couldn't believe Tana's advice had actually worked ─ talking about them on a podcast was the best rizz, apparently.
With trembling hands, you typed out a response, trying to come across confident despite the fluttering of nerves in your stomach.
Y/N 🎀 hi, you saw the episode?
Y/N 🎀 god i'm so embarrassed, sorry if you keep getting bombarded with questions from my fans lol. they mean well i swear 😫
You exited out of Instagram and tapped on iMessage, quickly getting into your group-chat with the girls.
we ❤️ white claws
y/n | GUESS WHO DM'D ME
tana | PAIGE BUECKERS???????
brooke | it better be paige or ur just blue balling us atp
y/n | yes it was paigeeee! *sends screenshot*
brooke | omgggg she's flirting with you!!!!
tana | what did i say bro?? what did i say?????
y/n | tysm tana ur literally the fucking best
As you were typing out your message to the groupchat, your phone buzzed. You looked up at the message, a smile spreading on your lips.
Paige 💕 Haha, yeah, I saw the episode. Don't worry about it, it's all good :)
Paige 💕 And no need to apologize, ur fans are really funny lol
You closed your phone, shutting your eyes as you swallowed a squeal of excitement.
The thrill of talking to Paige was almost overwhelming, but in the best possible way. You'd thought she was attractive since you'd first gotten into basketball back in high school (yes, it was because of your ex but that's besides that point), and it was surreal now that she was not only talking to you ─ she was hitting on you.
──
It had been a few weeks since you'd began talking to Paige and since then, you'd exchanged phone numbers and were talking every single day. She was sending you good morning texts, she made sure to do an fit check every morning, and you found yourself eagerly awaiting each message from her. The thrill of talking to Paige hadn't faded; if anything, it had only intensified as you got to know her better.
However, you knew since the season was beginning she wasn't going to be as free as she was before. You didn't mind, of course ─ you were just happy you were able to talk to her at all. These last couple days had been busy for her and you hadn't been able to talk to her, but this morning you'd gotten something in the mail that you were sure you didn't order.
You ripped it open to reveal Paige's jersey, and it was even signed at the bottom. You couldn't believe it, your heart swelling with warmth at the unexpected gesture from her. Holding the jersey in your hands, you couldn't help but smile at the thoughtfulness behind her gift.
As if on cue, your phone began buzzing in your pocket and you pulled it out. You quickly accepted the Facetime, a grin on your face as you answered.
"Oh my god, you're insane."
"What? You got the jersey?" Paige feigned shock, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she grinned at you through the screen. "I have no idea how that got there."
You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. "Yeah, I got it. Thank you so much, Paige. It's... it's amazing."
Paige's smile softened, her eyes warm with affection. "You're welcome. I just wanted to show my appreciation for you, you know?"
You felt a swell of warmth in your chest. "Well, it definitely made my day. Thanks, P. I really mean it."
Paige smirked as she took you in through the Facetime. "So, I guess you'll have to wear it to my games now, right? You can't let this signed jersey go to waste."
"Is that an invitation, P?" You teased, raising an eyebrow playfully as you grinned at Paige through the screen. The idea of attending Paige's games in her signed jersey filled you with excitement, and you couldn't wait to cheer her on from the stands.
Paige chuckled, her smirk widening. "Yeah, you down? You know our first game's on Thursday night, I'll get you floor tickets and everything."
You didn't think she was serious but the more you thought about it, the more you realized she might actually be serious. The excitement bubbled up within you at the thought of attending Paige's game, especially with floor tickets.
"Are you serious?" you asked, a hint of disbelief in your voice.
"Well, uh. I know it's a long flight but I wanna see you. I'll fly you out, I'll show you around and we can spend some time together, and stuff." Paige's usual confident demeanor was replaced with a touch of nervousness, her eyes searching yours for a reaction.
"Paige, are you sure?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The idea of spending time together in person was both thrilling and nerve-wracking, and you couldn't believe that Paige was offering to fly you out just to see her.
Paige nodded, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "Of course, I would. I mean, if you want to."
"Yeah, of course I would. You're sure?" You spoke softly but earnestly. Flights were expensive, especially when they were as last minute as this.
Paige let out a dramatic sigh as she nodded. "Yes, bro. Yes or no?"
"Yeah, of course. Gosh, so impatient." You teased as Paige laughed through the Facetime.
Paige chuckled, her laughter filling the screen as she rolled her eyes playfully. "Okay, good. Now show me how my jersey looks on you, put it on for me."
You blushed slightly as you nodded, taking the jersey as you walked up the stairs of your house. You couldn't believe it ─ you were flying out to meet Paige in less than a week. You were going to meet Paige Bueckers in less than a week.
──
"Y/N L/N is flying out to see your ass?" KK's voice sounded shocked as sat up on the bed, her eyes wide and her jaw slightly dropped in disbelief.
Paige kept her eyes on her phone as she nodded slowly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. She tried to keep the whole nonchalant thing going up but her friends could see right through it.
Paige couldn't help but smirk at KK's shocked reaction, though she attempted to maintain an air of nonchalance. "Yeah, she is," she replied casually, her fingers tapping away on her phone.
"She's coming to watch us play, like on Thursday?" KK repeated slowly as she tried to process the information, her eyes still wide with astonishment. "Seriously?"
Paige shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Yeah, seriously. Why is it so hard to believe?"
Ice, who had been lounging next to KK, chimed in with a smile. "Sounds like you're getting serious, P. Bringing her to a game? That's basically a relationship milestone."
Paige rolled her eyes playfully at Ice's comment. "It's not like that, Ice. We're just friends."
"Does she know that? You're such a fuckboy, Paige." Ice rolled her eyes as she exchanged a look with KK.
Paige couldn't help but laugh at Ice's teasing, though she couldn't deny the warmth spreading through her chest at the thought of you. "Trust me, Ice, she knows. And I'm not a fuckboy, I'm just... being a good friend."
KK chuckled, nudging Ice playfully. "Come on, Ice, let's not scare Paige away from the relationship talk."
"Bro, fuck off," Paige groaned as she sighed, leaning back in the gaming chair.
Paige knew she liked you but at this point, she'd only been texting you for a month and before she could be official with you, she'd have to spend time with you in real life. Plus, you lived in California and long distance was not the ideal for her.
"Are we getting those live show tickets or..." KK began as Paige sent her a glare. She put up her hands in defense as Ice let out a small laugh, shaking her head in amusement.
"Don't worry, we can ask her Thursday," Ice teased as she leaned back in the bed, her grin widening.
"Bro, you better leave her alone-"
"Ooo, she's getting possessive already. You have to remember it's Y/N, bro, she's definitely going to have some fans too." KK laughed, joining in on the teasing with a playful smirk.
Paige rolled her eyes at her friends' banter, though she couldn't help but feel a hint of amusement at their antics. "Guys, come on. Let's not make a big deal out of it."
KK chuckled, nudging Ice with her elbow. "Oh, come on, Paige, we'll behave."
"I'll believe it when I see it," Paige retorted as the girls laughed.
──
Y/N 🎀 posted on her story !
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You were incredibly nervous and the noise of the crowded stadium didn't do much to calm your already frayed nerves. It was your first time meeting Paige in person, and the anticipation had been building up inside you since the moment you boarded the plane to Connecticut.
The plan was to originally go to a pre-game dinner but it didn't really work out because of the traffic and the hectic schedule leading up to the game. Instead, Paige suggested meeting directly at the stadium, where she would give you a tour and introduce you to some of her teammates before the game started.
As you made your way through the crowds, your heart pounded with nervous excitement. Thoughts raced through your mind, wondering if Paige would like you in person as much as she seemed to over text, if you would have enough to talk about, and if you'd be able to keep your nerves in check. You were a nervous wreck, your stomach twisting in anxiety.
You couldn't help but feel a knot forming in your stomach as you scanned the crowd, searching for Paige among the sea of faces. Suddenly, you spotted her standing near the entrance to the court, her eyes scanning the crowd with a look of concentration. Your breath caught in your throat as you made eye contact, and a wave of relief washed over you.
God, she was even more attractive in real life. Her hair was in her signature braided ponytail and had worn some light make-up, her lashes long and her cheeks pink with blush.
Paige's face lit up with a bright smile as she caught sight of you, and she began weaving her way through the crowd towards you. Your nerves melted away as she drew closer, and before you knew it, her arms wrapped around you in a light embrace.
She was even taller than you expected ─ she practically towered over you, but her embrace felt warm and comforting. As she pulled back, you couldn't help but admire the way her eyes sparkled with excitement as she scanned your outfit.
"You're wearing the jersey!" She exclaimed as her eyes took you in, she had no shame in the fact she was checking you out. You didn't miss the way she bit her lip and how her eyes lingered, your face flushing with warmth at her gaze.
"Yeah, I wanted to show my support," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering of nerves in your stomach. "Plus, it's pretty comfy."
Paige grinned, her smile widening at your response. "Well, you look amazing in it. Maybe even better than I do," she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
You couldn't help but laugh at her teasing, your blush deepening as you looked up at the taller girl. "You're such a flirt,"
Paige bit her lip as her head fell back as she laughed, her laughter filling the air around you and sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. "Nah, I wasn't even trying that time."
Before you could reply, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around to meet the gazes of two girls and a boy, their expressions nervous and excited. "Oh my god, we are such big fans!"
You smiled instantly as you turned your attention toward them. "Aw, thank you, guys. That means the world, would you like a picture?"
The trio's faces lit up with excitement as they nodded eagerly. "Yes, please!" one of the girls exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.
"Can she take the picture?" One of the girls asked as she gestured toward Paige. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, her hands in her pockets as she exchanged a glance toward you.
"Uh, sure."
You and the fans gathered closer, posing for the picture as Paige stepped back to frame the shot. With a quick press of the button, the photo was taken, capturing the moment. As the fans thanked you both and walked away, chatting animatedly amongst themselves. You glanced toward the blonde as she began laughing, shaking her head.
"What?" You asked as she drew closer to you.
Paige shrugged. "I just kinda forgot you're like famous, or whatever. It kinda gives me like... an ego boost, not gonna lie."
You couldn't help but laugh at Paige's comment, her candidness adding to the lightheartedness of the moment. "Why?"
"You're like this really pretty girl who's super funny and has like, a whole fanbase. And you flew out to see me, you told everyone on your friend's podcast that you had a crush on me and now you're here, just casually hanging out with me, wearing my jersey like it's no big deal," Paige explained, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.
You laughed at her explanation, feeling a warmth spread through you at her words. "Well, to be fair, you're also this incredible basketball player who's basically taking the WNBA world by storm. And you invited me to your game, so I'd say we're pretty even."
"You're boosting my ego even more though, I hope you know that," Paige replied with a playful grin, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
You chuckled, feeling a sense of ease settle between you. "Just returning the favor," you teased, nudging her playfully.
"Okay, I'ma let me show you around now," Paige grinned as she gestured for you to keep walking. Her hands found your waist and began guiding you through the halls, her touch unexpected but undoubtedly welcome.
You couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement at the contact, her touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. With Paige's arm around your waist, guiding you through the busy stadium corridors, you felt a sense of intimacy that was both thrilling and comforting.
──
As you sat in the stands, surrounded by cheering fans and the energy of the game, your heart raced with excitement. You stole glances at Paige on the court, marveling at her skill and grace as she played. Despite your nerves, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you were there to support her.
She was so attractive (even while running around and sweating), she reminded you how much you loved hoopers. The way she moved, the intensity in her eyes as she focused on the game, it all captivated you. Even in the midst of competition, she exuded a confidence and poise that was undeniably attractive.
Your eyes stayed on her the entire game, not paying much attention to anything else. You were so enamored with Paige that you hardly noticed the passage of time. Every movement she made seemed effortless, every shot she took seemed destined to find the net.
As the game reached its end, with the score neck and neck, Paige seemed to rise to the occasion, her determination shining through in every play. And when she sank the winning shot in the final seconds of the game, the crowd erupted into cheers, the sound reverberating throughout the stadium.
You couldn't help but leap to your feet, cheering along with the rest of the fans as you watched Paige celebrate with her teammates on the court.
As the crowd began to disperse and the energy of the game slowly subsided, you made your way down to the court, eager to congratulate Paige. As you approached her, a wide grin spread across her face, and she pulled you into a tight hug, the euphoria of the win still palpable in the air.
Paige didn't care if people took pictures or if people decided to gossip about it later; all she cared about was you being there in that moment.
"You looked really good out there," the words came out of your mouth before you could really process them. Paige pulled out from the hug with a laugh, her arms still around your shoulders.
"And you looked really sexy in the stands, wearing my jersey." Paige smirked playfully, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she teased you.
"I felt like a NBA trophy wife, I was clapping all cutesy cause I knew people were taking pictures of me," you quipped, feeling a rush of excitement at Paige's playful banter. Her laughter was infectious, and you found yourself grinning in response.
Paige chuckled, giving you a playful nudge with her shoulder. "Well, you definitely looked the part," she teased, her tone affectionate as she leaned in closer to you.
You laughed along with her, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort in her presence. "Guess I'll have to start practicing my trophy wife wave for next time," you replied with a playful wink.
"Ooo, next time? Does that mean you'll visit me again?" Paige teased, raising an eyebrow playfully as she looked at you.
You couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her at her words. "Of course," you replied, your voice filled with sincerity. "But only if you make me a WNBA wife, P."
She squinted as if she was thinking about it, earning a playful shove from you. "I'm just playing, you're the only girl."
"I'd hope so," you scoffed as you playfully rolled your eyes, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.
Paige grinned, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, lucky for you, you're my favorite girl," she replied, her tone soft and affectionate.
"So there are other girls?" You teased as she groaned playfully, earning a laugh from you. "I'm just your favorite-"
"That's not what I meant, you're the only one who's wearing my signed jersey, that I sent directly to your house and you're the only one who gets good morning texts and fit checks." Paige countered, her playful smirk widening into a genuine smile.
You couldn't help but laugh at her response, feeling a sense of warmth and happiness fill your chest. "Yeah, I guess you're right," you replied, your tone light and teasing.
Before Paige could reply, she saw Ice and KK approaching from behind you. She sighed as you turned around, meeting their excited gaze.
Paige sighed playfully as she turned to greet Ice and KK, who were clearly eager to join in on the conversation. "Hey, what's up, you two?" she greeted them with a smile, her eyes flickering with amusement.
Ice and KK exchanged a knowing look before KK grinned mischievously. "So, are we interrupting something here?" she teased, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.
Paige rolled her eyes, but couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Y/N, this is KK and Ice. Don't worry about them though, they're just stupid freshman who think they're the shit-"
"Bro, says you!" KK shouted as you laughed, exchanging a smile with Ice.
"I know who you guys are, P talks about you a lot," you said, offering a friendly smile to KK and Ice. "Nice to finally meet you both."
KK's eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh, really? What does she say about us?" she asked eagerly, leaning in closer with a playful grin.
Paige let out a groan, shooting you an amused glance before replying, "Only good things, I promise."
"Yeah, she loves you guys." You smiled as you glanced between Paige, KK, and Ice. "Always talking about your antics and how you keep things interesting."
"She talks about you too, like nonstop." KK began before she earned a shove from a very flustered Paige.
Ice continued, "We thought she was lying until we watched your episode with Tana and Brooke, then we were confused cause you like Paige?"
"Why are you saying it like that? Paige?" Paige mocked Ice, earning a laugh from you and KK.
"Cause Y/N's like a whole baddie, like a 20/20 and you're just like... mid at basketball," Ice explained as Paige sent her a playful glare. "People are gonna be really confused until they see how much you make, then they'll be like ohh,"
"Shut up, bro," Paige replied, but there was a fondness in her tone as she exchanged playful banter with Ice. "It's not about basketball skills, it's about the person."
"Sure, sure," KK chimed in with a grin. "We all know you're a catch, Paige. But hey, if Y/N's into it, who are we to judge?"
You laughed at the girls banter, exchanging a smile with Paige as Ice and KK did the same. "Y/N, we have a question."
"Oh no, bro," Paige groaned as KK nudged her slightly, telling her to be quiet as you nodded, laughing softly.
"Can you get us tickets to Tana and Brooke's shows? Please, we really really wanna go," KK asked, her excitement palpable.
You couldn't help but chuckle at KK's eagerness. "Sure! I'll reach out to them get you guys some," you replied with a smile, already mentally making a note to message Tana and Brooke about it later.
Paige rolled her eyes playfully. "Great, now you're getting my girl to do favors for you," she joked, earning a laugh from both you and KK.
"Your girl?" Ice responded as she raised her brow. "Okay, I see you P, already locking it down."
Paige's cheeks flushed slightly as she playfully nudged Ice. "Shut up, Ice. You know what I mean."
KK leaned in with a mischievous grin. "Oh, we know what you mean, Paige. You're just too scared to admit it."
"Okay, well. Thank you so much, Y/N, you're even more stunning in person. I'll leave you guys to it, now," Ice smirked as she grabbed KK and began walking off the court, toward the team.
Paige let out a sigh before she turned over to meet your eyes, a softness to softness to her expression that made your heart flutter. "Sorry about them, they're like that all the time," she said with a chuckle.
You shook your head with a smile, feeling a sense of contentment settle over you. "No, no, they seem really sweet. They remind me of Tana and Brooke though," you laughed as Paige nodded.
"Uh, sure!" Paige teased as you shook your head in amusement. "I need to go take a shower but um, maybe you can come over?"
Your smile widened at the request as you nodded. "Yeah, sounds like fun."
Again, her hand found the small of your back as she led you toward the team. She was soon reminded of a team celebration they were planning on doing later and the girls insisted on bringing you, she realized that you had become their favorite, too.
But she couldn't blame them, you were perfect.
──
tana mongeau (tanamongeau) started following you. Brooke (brookeschofield) started following you.
tana mongeau wants to send you a message. hurt her and you die, got it blondie ?? not joking btw
Brooke wants to send you a message. Heard you & Y/N had a fun time this weekend! You seem like such a sweet girl, would love to have you on the pod sometime. Promise we'll keep it PG 🤗
Brooke Oh and go huskies!!!! 😁
Paige glanced at her phone with a slight groan, shaking her head. "Oh, you've gotta be kidding me,"
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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bbyseok · 23 hours
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at first sight? — GOJO SATORU
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pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader
word count: 10k (idek i was possessed)
banner by @/bbyseok , dividers by @/bunnysrph !!
a/n: um hi. its finally here ! thanks to all who liked the teaser, this is my first jjk/gojo fic ever but i really think everyone needs some comfort after jjk chap 261.. and fuck u gege !!
content: soulmate au, gender neutral reader, minimal use of they/them pronouns for reader but gender is not specified, sorcerer reader, nicknames ‘sweetheart’, ‘pretty’, ‘baby’, fluff, mild angst with a happy ending, slowburn??, several pov switches, suggestive/implied nsfw at the end but nothing explicit, brief swearing/explicit language, brief violence/injuries, alcohol consumption, reader gets mildly drunk but nothing else, implied satosugu as past soulmates: can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic, fic takes place after jjk 0 but before the show starts
analysis: this is a world filled not only with curses, but soulmates—in which you know someone is your soulmate when you first make eye contact with them. but for your case, things can get a bit complicated when someone is wearing a blindfold.
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here, in this universe, you can tell that someone is your soulmate by simply looking at them. so with that, the saying of “love at first sight” is actually pretty accurate here. you see them for the very first time and barely know the person and yet, somehow, they’re the one you’re destined to be with.
with that, you’d think it’d be pretty common for two random people to run into each other while crossing the street or something and bam! suddenly you’ve found the supposed love of your life!
and you? well, for you, that hasn’t happened yet.
to be fair, it’s not like you’re actively trying to look for your soulmate. handling curses as a jujutsu sorcerer is difficult enough. (maybe you’ll run into them one day after saving them from a curse or something. how romantic!)
it’s better to leave it up to fate. it’s fate who decided your pairing anyway, right?
your transfer to jujutsu tech had been fairly smooth. after being stationed in kyoto for a while, tokyo was a nice change of pace.
coincidentally, you had been out of the country during the incident known as the night parade of a hundred demons. a scary event that proved the threat of curse users to be formidable.
because of that, your decision to transfer to tokyo seemed like the right thing to do. and so far, it’s been decent.
it’s a nice change of scenery. the students are aspiring; while maki and megumi aren’t the friendliest, they’re warming up to you. toge and panda are gradually improving.
nanami’s pessimistic outlook on jujutsu society and shoko’s overall unenthusiastic demeanor are certainly interesting for the most part, but your coworkers are pleasant to be around.
well. except for one.
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gojo satoru knows that you are his soulmate. he has indeed known this fact right from the very start, ever since your first meeting.
even with his blindfold on, he could see your own eyes before him. his six eyes can see everything. the thing is.. he didn’t know he could have another soulmate.
his situation with geto suguru is something he doesn’t talk about with anyone. maybe shoko at times, but even then, it’s rare. it’s not that he doesn’t want to, but it’s pretty hard to talk about.
after suguru defected, gojo could still obviously feel their bond. even though they were no longer together as the strongest duo, did it really matter when their souls were still connected to one another? it was a factor that played in avoiding (and perhaps meeting up with) each other as the years went by.
satoru felt their bond die that day after the events with okkotsu and rika. and it had frightened him. that lingering presence of the bond was no longer there.
so imagine his surprise when he sees you.
a new sorcerer in kyoto, now transferred to tokyo. normally, gojo doesn’t seek out the new recruits, but yaga had dragged him over regardless. besides, he might as well get to know his possible assistant teacher that would be helping him out with the new first years.
“i guess i can check out some new faces,” he relented with a sigh, adjusting his blindfold and looking to the side as yaga’s steps slowed as they approached you.
gojo rolled his eyes–not that you’d see it anyway–as yaga introduced you with your name and your sorcerer grade. he stopped to stand next to the principal.
you extended your hand to offer a handshake, and gojo finally turned his head.
that feeling as his gaze fell upon yours beneath the blindfold was familiar—frighteningly so—and unfamiliar at the same time. as if he could breathe for the first time in ages. your eyes are unaware, but they’re so revealing to him.
satoru stuttered in his movements, reluctantly taking your hand. the skin that touched yours felt like it was on fire. he briefly held on to see if you felt it too.
but you simply smiled up at him.
“it’s nice to meet you, gojo,” you said, blissfully unaware of the revelation currently dawning on the man before you and the turmoil it brought as he abruptly retracted his arm back.
gojo stiffened. he merely offered a curt nod before turning on heel and walking away briskly. he could faintly hear yaga protest about his sudden departure before apologizing to you hastily. satoru shook his head.
how was this be possible? how could the universe give him two soulmates? he didn’t even know that was a thing that could happen. he wondered if there had been a similar occurrence before.
gojo couldn’t help but feel nauseous. was this the world playing some sort of sick, cruel joke on him? or was it perhaps giving him a second chance?
and truthfully, it wasn’t like gojo even wanted another soulmate. not after what he had been through with suguru. he hadn’t given it much thought.
was it really worth it?
what if he couldn’t protect you too?
so satoru had decided on one thing that day: the blindfold stays on. concealing his eyes from the world not only for him, but for your sake too. he was certain in his choice; he would never tell you the truth.
as far as you were concerned, you haven’t met your soulmate yet.
and never will.
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your first meeting with gojo wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t something you could describe as good either. you’ve been left with the impression that he’s cocky and indifferent.
and that he doesn’t like you.
it’s been around.. two? three weeks? it’s been a while since your encounter with the white-haired sorcerer, and you’ve only seen a few glimpses of him here and there on campus.
okay, he doesn’t display any outright mean or ill intention towards you. on the very rare times the two of you do interact, he is obviously curt and clipped. seems like he’s deemed you worthy of the only either nods or one word responses.
you’ve yet to actually participate in a lesson or mission with gojo, but you prefer it that way. providing individual training and advice for the upcoming second years has been going great. at this point, you’re sure it’d only be awkward.
besides, the strongest sorcerer alive doesn’t necessarily need assistance in dealing with curses after all. that much is understandable.
you’re currently in the teachers’ lounge room with nanami. even though he isn’t actually a teacher, he pays visits sometimes. he’s good company anyway.
“it’s nice to hear that you’re settling in well,” the blonde says with a nod. he loosens his necktie absentmindedly as he adjusts the newspaper in his lap. “especially with that gojo around. he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”
you frown at the mention of the sorcerer, crossing your arms. you’re seated across from nanami, watching him idly look through the newspaper.
“oh, well, actually, he isn’t too much trouble. for me, at least,” you reply, brows furrowing, “he barely talks to me.” (in fact, he seems to avoid you like you’re carrying the plague or something.)
nanami looks up, raising a brow. “huh. you should be grateful then.” he then hums, “but maybe that’ll change once there’s actually new first year students to teach. you both are assigned to them after all.”
you lean back in your seat, your shoulders committing to a halfhearted shrug. “maybe. it’s not like i never did anything bad to him though..”
nanami sighs gruffly. “don’t think about it too much.” before he can continue, there’s the sound of footsteps. nanami brings his newspaper back up, muttering, “speak of the devil.”
“nanamiiii!” gojo’s voice sounds from around the corner. it almost startles you how lively he sounds. you realize you’ve never actually heard or seen how he acts without you around.
nanami doesn’t respond, rolling his eyes.
gojo strolls in enthusiastically, blindfold on. “heyy, nanami, we should-” he cuts off when he presumably sees you, falling quiet and stopping short.
you blink, a bit hurt. does he dislike you that much? but you don’t let it show, resorting to greeting him politely like you usually do when you occasionally pass each other.
“good afternoon, gojo,” you muse, offering a little wave.
nanami notices his reaction too, but doesn’t comment on it. he continues to ignore the sorcerer’s presence in fact, eyes still roaming over the newspaper.
gojo clears his throat and resumes his pace. “afternoon,” he responds, focusing his attention back on nanami. he reaches the two of you, giving you no further acknowledgment.
you don’t care if he can see you looking at him, you opt to stare at the black blindfold covering his face. you have a hunch that he can see, or at least feel, you staring at him.
“can i borrow you for a sec, nanami?”
nanami emits an exasperated sigh, but stands nonetheless to follow gojo out of the room for some discussion not meant for your ears apparently, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
do you make gojo uncomfortable? you don’t know what you could’ve possibly done so though. from what you’ve heard from the others, he can be rather eccentric and overbearing.
does he just not like you? perhaps he views you as inferior, too below his level and power to actually converse with you. while it seems a bit of a stretch, you’re sure it’s not out of the possibility also based on what you’ve heard about him from others.
your frown returns. before you can dwell on it any longer, nanami comes back into the room. “well, i certainly see what you mean from what you said about gojo earlier,” he announces.
his words do nothing to falter your frown. “right.” you then shrug once more, “it’s okay. it’s just a bit.. strange.” you then shake your head, trying to be a bit optimistic. “but also like you said earlier, that might change! who knows?”
who knows, indeed.
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megumi tucks the cursed tools inside their designated box and closes the lid. he moves on to the next one right as gojo enters the shed, beaming a smile.
“hey, megumi. you almost done wrapping up things here?” satoru asks, undoing his blindfold naturally. there’s a pair of glasses in his hand ready for use.
the teen nods. they had used a few cursed tools during training session today, and the storage did need a bit of tidying up. “almost done.”
satoru makes a noise of approval as he places his glasses on. “great! do you need help setting up your dorm room?” he looks excited at the idea, still grinning.
meanwhile, megumi looks disinterested at his offer. “no thanks. i think it’ll be easy enough. it’s not like i’m decorating it anyway.”
“oh, boo.” but gojo doesn’t insist on it any further. he actually falls strangely quiet, which causes megumi to glance at him curiously.
his teacher looks.. distraught. it’s hard to actually tell, but he seems to be looking at the floor, maybe lost in thought. before megumi can say anything, gojo’s expression changes and he starts talking again.
“you’re, uh, with the new teacher for tomorrow,” gojo then informs. he shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks at the floor absentmindedly. (he’s fidgeting. subtly.) “it’ll just be you two, i think, on a small mission. so they can get used to actually working with students on field. it’ll be good for the both of you.”
megumi nods. he tilts his head afterward. “you can say their name, you know. it won’t kill you,” he says a bit pointedly, “and they’re not technically new anymore. it has been a few weeks now since they’ve joined the school.”
“right, right.” megumi’s face scrunches up as gojo’s hand comes down to ruffle his hair gently. (a habit that has not died since his younger days.) “whatever you say, megumi.”
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despite your minimal interactions and his rather closed off demeanor, megumi is actually one of your favorite students. (and yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have favorites, but oh well.)
your mission with megumi, or rather, the mission you’ve been assigned to supervise the student on, is rather simple.
there’s been reports of a low grade curse roaming the premises of a supermarket neighboring a nearby cemetery, so megumi is to obviously exorcise it under your watch. the area has been closed off with a small veil. megumi had decided to check the parking lot first for any lingering traces, so here you are.
“i think we’re good here,” the teenager confirms as his demon dogs return to his feet, seemingly in the clear. you nod and let him lead the way towards the inside of the store.
as the two of you begin to walk down each aisle with one of the demon dogs trailing behind, megumi says your name in an inquisitive tone. “what do you think of gojo-sensei?”
the sudden question has you blinking in surprise. your eyes scan megumi as you both continue to trek down the aisle. “what makes you ask?”
“no reason.” he doesn’t meet your gaze.
you bite down on your lip in contemplation. you’re not sure what brings this question to mind for him, but you’re willing to indulge him for now. “well.. i think he’s.. alright.” you pause. “as a sorcerer, i admire his strength. though, i think a lot of people think that obviously.”
“and as a person?” megumi presses, turning to investigate the next aisle. he still doesn’t glance over to you, still preoccupied with searching for the curse.
(hell, for a teenager, he sure is perceptive.)
you choose your words carefully, thinking it over with a brief pause.
“i’ll admit, i don’t think i know him well enough to be sure. as a person, i think he’s.. self-centered and rude. sometimes, i see him act very carefree in a way. he’s.. obscure, i guess.” you clear your throat and reiterate, “but again, i don’t really... know him.”
you can see megumi go over your words silently. the quiet continues. the conversation seems to be dying, but it doesn’t matter when monstrous gurgling sounds up ahead.
a curse appears in front of you, the shelving of the aisles toppling over as it gargles some unintelligible roar. megumi doesn’t hesitate, using his technique to summon his demon dogs once more to swiftly engage in combat.
the fight is easily handled in three minutes top. (they weren’t kidding when they said it’d be easy.)
after the commotion has settled, you allow megumi to do one more check up around the store just in case. just as you are prepared to exit and bring down the veil, you decide it’s your turn to ask him now.
“and what about you, megumi?” you inquire lightly, giving one of the demon dogs a few head pats for their good work. “what exactly do you think of gojo?”
megumi hums.
“i agree with most of what you said actually,” he answers honestly, causing you to chuckle in amusement. the teenager tilts his head and finally looks at you. “but i also think he’s kind when he wants to be.”
his frontward honesty surprises you once more. this kid sure is something. you believe his words; he has no reason to lie to you, especially about gojo of all things. still, you poke at him teasingly, “really now?”
you don’t really expect him to answer, but then megumi says in a mumble so quiet that you nearly miss it.
“well, he did sort of raise me after all.”
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“i just don’t think he likes me, shoko,” you puff out a sigh, watching as she puffs out smoke. “i’ve seen the way he is around other people, and he’s not like that with me.”
she’s on break right now, so you thought you could talk to her about a certain blindfolded sorcerer who’s been plaguing your thoughts.
it’s interesting to hear about the different sides of gojo satoru from your peers. from nanami, you’ve learned that he’s pretentious and troublesome. from megumi, that he can be caring in his own way. and shoko?
“he’s crazy.” the doctor waves her cigarette at you with a shrug of her shoulders. “but it beats me on why he doesn’t particularly like you.”
you groan, slouching in one of the chairs set up in the infirmary. “maybe i should’ve stayed in kyoto,” you mumble. it’s more of a joke than anything; your.. weird terms with gojo isn’t enough to actually deter you.
but shoko puts the cigarette back to her lips and tilts her head. “want me to ask him about it?”
you straighten your posture abruptly and look at her. “what? you don’t have to. he might think i asked you to or something.”
she shrugs again. “your call.”
your brows furrow. “maybe we just got off on the wrong foot somehow. even though all i did was shake his hand.” you snort. “maybe i can get him something to break the ice. what does he like?”
shoko doesn’t even hesitate. “sweets. he likes his sweets.”
oh. oh, okay! you blink and nod. who would’ve thought? the strongest sorcerer in the world likes sweets. “i can handle sweets.”
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you, in fact, cannot handle sweets.
why are there so many? you’re at a local bakery staring at the rows and rows of pastries they have on display, looking as if you’re trying the decipher the world’s hardest math problem.
shoko never specified what kind of sweets he liked during your conversation with her a couple days ago. cake? ice cream? cookies? you might as well buy the whole damn store at this point with your luck. the last thing you want is to buy him something he won’t actually eat.
“oh, fuck it,” you mutter and finally decide on a small piece of cake. it happens to be your favorite kind of cake, but oh well. if he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it! it’s the thought that matters anyway, right?
as you exit the shop with your newly acquired dessert, you try to devise a way to give it to him. do you just.. hand it to him? or maybe it’ll be better to leave it in his office. or have shoko give it to him!
ughh, who knew how hard it’d be to give a man a cake? okay, okay. you’ll simply give it to him in person since he’ll know it’s directly from you. problem solved.
well, actually, problem is not solved. how are you supposed to give the cake to gojo in person when you have absolutely no clue where he is right now? after returning to the school, he’s no where to be found, so you eventually turn to yaga for help.
“he’s on a mission where??”
you stare at yaga with wide eyes as he names some city so far away you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to find an affordable ride to get you there in a reasonable amount of time.
“oh, alright,” you say, feeling a little disappointed. the cake suddenly feels a little too big and heavy in your hands.
the principal’s gaze flickers down to your little intended treat for his former student. “these kinds of missions are no trouble for satoru. i’m sure he’ll be back soon, so you can leave that in his office.”
you brighten up at that and nod. “thank you, yaga.” you then dismiss yourself with a polite bow after he informs you where gojo’s office is exactly, and you start to make your way there.
it’s only a few minutes until you get there. you open the door and catch sight of a desk. it looks rather plain, which is understandable since it doesn’t seem like he uses this space often. (though, there is a chair that looks more expensive than your entire rent.)
either way, you walk inside and set the container down on the desk with a small sigh. hopefully the gesture is appreciated! if he really does have a sweet tooth like shoko says, you’re not sure why he’d turn it down. again, you can only hope.
you sigh again and turn to leave when the sound of the door creaking open sounds again. you freeze in place when it swings out fully, revealing the very man you were thinking about.
(yaga was not kidding when he said that gojo finishes his missions pretty fast.)
gojo perks up at the sight of you in his office, and even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s got a surprised look on his face. “can i help you.. or do you have a reason on why you’re snooping around in my office?” he inquires, walking in.
while not evidently hostile, his appearance and words suddenly have you anxious. “oh, well, i-’’ you want to mentally smack yourself for fumbling over your words. “i’m sorry for intruding. i, uh, just wanted to leave you a little something.”
it’s only then does gojo look past you and makes a small noise. you can’t really decipher it, but you watch as he walks by you to open the small packaging to see the slice of cake meant for him.
and when he makes a small noise again, you can tell it’s one of delight. “you got me.. cake?” he asks, looking to you again questioningly.
“i did,” you clarify with a small nod, summoning a small smile and rubbing the back of your neck a bit sheepishly, “i didn’t know what kind of sweet you would like, so i just ended up choosing my favorite cake. um, i really hope you don’t mind the flavor, but if you don’t you really don’t have to eat it so-”
“kikufuku.”
you stare at him, confused. “what?”
“kikufuku,” satoru reiterates, and it’s his turn to smile. (it nearly catches you off guard because although very small, it’s pretty.) “s’my favorite. or.. one of my favorite sweets. crepes are good too.”
his newfound friendliness has you smiling a bit more evidently, pleased that this interaction is your most pleasant one with him so far in the weeks you’ve been here. “oh, okay,” you chuckle, “noted.”
gojo opens the container and unwraps the plastic fork that had came with it. he takes a bite of the cake and hums in approval. “can see why it’s your favorite. it’s not bad.”
your face lightens up at that. “oh, i’m glad.”
he hums, popping another slice of cake into his mouth. “any particular reason on why you’ve decided to give me cake, if i may ask?”
you falter once more, now nervous in telling that you’re hoping to.. resolve this one-sided tension with you. ultimately, you decide to be straightforward, inhaling deeply and looking at him. (well, his blindfold.)
“well, i’m not an idiot, gojo. you haven’t exactly been.. friendly to me. i’m not trying to win you over or anything, but if we’re going to work together with the first year students, consider this a gift for a truce. or um, a peace offering so we can act somewhat decent with each other.”
the white-haired sorcerer falls silent at your confrontation. you’re half expecting him to brush you off and walk out of the room entirely. especially since he seems to have stiffen up (similarly to the way when you first met, you had noticed).
he seems to contemplate for a bit. you don’t know where he’s looking at; the floor, the cake in his hands, you? it’s suddenly nerve-wracking.
“you’re right,” he finally speaks up, “i.. i’m sorry for my previous behavior towards you. can we start over?” he places the cake aside and walks back over to you to hold out his hand.
“gojo satoru.”
your eyes flicker to his blindfold to his hand, then back to where his eyes are hidden underneath. the rumored powerful and breaktaking six eyes concealed from your ever so curious sight.
against your better judgment, you repeat your name and take his hand.
“it’s nice to meet you, gojo.”
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your new relationship with gojo is steadily becoming better. he’s no longer curt with you, and actually engages in conversations even with no other people around.
though, you can’t help but feel like he’d avoiding looking at you for some reason. which is pretty far off since you can’t technically see where he’s looking, but it’s a hunch you have nonetheless.
but hey, it’s progress, progress that you’re somewhat happy about.
like now, as satoru leans over your shoulder to peer at the clipboard in your hands. you’ve just finished wrapping up a lesson with the soon-to-be second years out on the field.
“ooh, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow, teach?” he pries.
“assistant teach,” you remind him teasingly, going over the contents of the clipboard. “more sparring. oh, and the registration for that new first year.”
“the one from the countryside?” gojo hums.
you nod. “yep. a.. kugasaki nobara. we won’t actually get to meet her, but arrangements for her arrival are getting finalized.”
“oh, boo. s’just more paperwork,” the sorcerer beside you whines, kicking at the grass.
“at least megumi isn’t the only one now,” you point out and finally turn to him.
just as you expected, satoru glances away to look at panda and toge finishing up. you squint at him narrowly but don’t comment on it.
“that’s true. not like that kid cares anyway, but it’ll be good for him,” gojo agrees airily, shoving his hands into his pockets.
you eye him. “hey, gojo?”
“yeah?” his head remains turned to the students. (further proving your point! you feel like you’re collecting evidence here; the gojo satoru cannot look at you in the eye!)
you hesitate. “wanna grab some kikufuku?”
he perks up at that. (like a puppy, really. it almost makes you laugh.) “mm, whatever happened to not trying to win me over with sweets?” he teases.
you laugh at that then, shaking your head in soft denial. “no- that’s not what i-”
“well, you did said kikufuku.." satoru interrupts you with a dramatic sigh and heave of his shoulders, “so how could i ever possibly resist?”
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satoru doesn’t dare to look down at you.
“care to join me?”
but you smile up at him cheekily, and he hates the way the sunlight is hitting your features just right. it looks like the color of your eyes is glistening.
you’re just.. lying down on the grass of one of the training fields, admiring the drifting formations of white clouds on the blue canvas that is the sky.
satoru keeps telling himself that shouldn’t be doing this. his first mistake was accepting your cake. allowing himself to get closer to you. but when you look at him like that, he feels like he can do anything. which is odd, becaues really, he can do anything. it goes without saying as his status as the strongest.
but with you, it’s starting to feel a bit different.
when he doesn’t give you an immediate answer, you tilt your head and continue to blink up at him. “you can see the sky even with your blindfold on, right?”
he snorts. “yeah, i can.”
you pat the space on the grass next to you welcomingly, a beckoning that he just can’t resist again. “well, come on and join me,” you persist.
he hesitates, shifting his weight on his legs for a moment. against his better judgement, he joins you. it’s surprisingly comfortable, he finds, as he kicks out his legs and sighs.
it’s a comfortable silence that it’s almost startling. how easy it is just to be around you. (which is the exact reason why he had been avoiding you in the start, in fear of slipping up around you. he still might.)
“you get headaches, right? if you don’t cover your eyes.”
he chuckles at your question. “yeah.” it’s a half truth, half lie. he does get headaches, but for another reason now. you can’t get out of his head. (he’s got a suspicious feeling it’s because the soulmate bond is incomplete. but again, that’s just a theory of his.)
“‘m’sorry. that sucks.” you pout subconscously, still looking up at the sky to admire it.
he scoffs fondly, clapsing his hands over his stomach. “it’s no biggie. you think headaches can take down gojo satoru?”
“hey now, tough guy. they can take down me sometimes.”
(he’d fight off headaches from you if he could.) his heart is thudding against his ribcage, warning him. but he doesn’t heed the warning, and continues to lay down with you on the grass.
it’s a nice feeling. he doesn’t feel like the greatest sorcerer in the world with his colleague. it feels like he’s just satoru, pointing out the different shapes and animals you can spot in the sky with his soulmate.
“hey, that one looks like you!”
“hah?!”
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“i’m guessing you and gojo-sensei are getting along now,” megumi bluntly comments.
it catches you off guard slightly, and you can’t help but laugh. (of course he had noticed how the both of you interacted from the beginning.) “oh, uh, yeah.”
and as you watch satoru go down the steps of the stairs to head over to you both whilst waving an arm with much more enthusiam than needed, you can’t help but smile.
“yeah, we are.”
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this is a mistake. he shouldn’t be doing this.
but satoru can’t help but be so selfish, selfish in indulging in your looks, in your scarce touches. when you had confronted him with your peace offering as you had so called it, he had given in.
and now he’s spending more time with you. be it after lessons with the students, on random days where you have nothing to do, during weekends when there’s no authorities to bother him—he can’t help it.
was it the bond wanting to be complete? you were still unaware of his true identity, of what he could possibly mean to you, so why does he feel like he needs to be so close? he gets antsy at times when you’re not in his sight. it’s starting to affect him.
the soulmate bond, or lack of it—that has to be the only explanation for it. because he knows that you’re his soulmate, he’s subconsciously drawn to you and your presence. (it’s definitely not because he likes the way you smile, or laugh, or-)
fuck.
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after a relatively tough mission, you’re obviously sent to see shoko. you’re not fatally harmed, maybe a scratch here and there. and okay, maybe a gash on your shoulder..
it had been enough to sort of knock you off your feet, but you’re fine. totally. exorcising a semi grade two curse at 1 a.m. in the morning was no biggie at this point.
once she’s finished tending to your wound, she dusts off her hands and places them on her hips. “you’re all set.”
you smile gratefully. “thanks, sho. can always count you to patch me up.”
she snorts. “well, it is my job.”
gojo suddenly appears right next to the table and you yelp, startled by his teleportation. shoko, on the other hand, looks unfazed, as if she’s used to this.
“gojo!” you blink, your voice taking a scolding tone soon after, “geez, you scared me! what’re you still doing awake??”
the blindfolded man falters, looking apologetic. “sorry. heard you got back from your mission.” he sounds worried, but before he can voice his concern, shoko rolls her eyes.
“they’ll be fine,” she says.
gojo’s shoulders finally drop down and he plays off his previous display of concern with a laugh. “ahaha, yeahhh, i knew that,” he scoffs with a wave of his hand, “i can’t bless you two with my presence?”
shoko gives him a displeased look before she turns around to tidy up her tools. you chuckle at her annoyance. “thanks for checking up on me, satoru,” you say sincerely. your eyes go over his appearance; he’s dressed more casually: a pair of dark slacks and shirt that expose his collarbones. not that you’re.. particularly looking.
but his shoulders seem tense again at your words and he hums quietly. (huh, strange. at least he’s not refusing to look at you anymore, you think.)
“well, i say this calls for a little celebration,” satoru suddenly purrs in delight, waving his hands in the air.
“celebration? for me getting kinda beat up?” you blow a raspberry at him, only for him to blow one at you right back. even though you had done it first, you can’t help but giggle at his childish antics.
he grins at that, then shakes his head. “heyy, i heard you beat up a semi grade two curse!” he says, “i think that does call for a celebration, does it not?”
you stare at him, unsure on whether he’s joking or not. wait, how did he even know that? well, maybe he had gone through the mission reports and assignments. still, you’re surprised that he knows. “you can wipe those out in less than a minute, gojo,” you point out with a raised brow, “don’t try and humor me.”
his grin lessens. “well, yeah, s’kinda easy for me, but i think that goes without saying. you’re telling me don’t wanna celebrate an accomplishment of yours?”
you look to shoko who is almost finished with cleaning up. she just shrugs. you look back to satoru and shrug yourself whilst rolling your eyes. “alright, we can celebrate.”
gojo fist bumps the air. and here you are again, giggling at him.
eventually, when he leads you out of the infirmary and to the teachers’ lounge. he digs through one of the fridges and hands you a bottle of what seems to be alcohol.
“i didn’t even know this was allowed here,” you mumble, settling down on what of the high chairs near the counter. you wiggle in your seat to get comfortable as gojo takes the one next to you.
you offer it to him but he shakes his head, nose scrunching up a little. “i don’t drink.”
“wasn’t this your idea?” you blink. “suit yourself, more for me.” you shrug and open the bottle to pour yourself a glass. and another. and another. and then another.
(you don’t know what particularly drives you to keep drinking as you talk with him, but perhaps it’s the way you know that satoru’s eyes are lingering just underneath the blindfold. you can practically feel his stare.)
and gojo watches you gradually drink yourself to being mildly drunk.
“okay, no more for you,” he laughs as he takes the bottle away from you and holding it above your head when you try to reach for it.
“awh, man.” you pout and rest your head on your arms on the table, looking at him the best you can. “you meanie. you got me drunk on purpose. give it back.”
he snickers, amused and endeared by your drunk antics as he pushes the bottle aside. “sorry. you’ll thank me later, pretty.”
pretty. he’s never called you that before. you wanna hear him say it again. (amongst some other things.)
“pretty.. you’re pretty. i bet your eyes are pretty too,” you say into your sleeve, your other hand reaching out to his blindfold, “everyone else says they’re v’ry pretty.”
he leans back to avoid your hand, heart pounding in his chest a little too loud for his liking. he wonders if you can hear it. “sure. i guess they are,” he says softly with a small chuckle.
“i wonder who my soulmate is,” you then mumble out. maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s your incoherent slurring, but you sound.. sad.
before he can dwell on it, you’re slurring out another question that has come to your head.
“d’you have a soulmate?”
satoru’s eyes widen under the blindfold. he knows that you’re drunk. that you’re just saying things. but your hazy eyes stare up at him with a glint that makes his heart lurch.
and you won’t remember a thing in the morning, right?
before he can answer, you’re out like a light.
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you wake up in the morning with a splitting headache.
with a groan, you sit up in what seems to be a bed that seems way to be to be your own, legs kicking the sheets that had been draped over you in alarm.
you have no idea where you are, but there’s a glass of water along with some painkillers on the nightstand beside you, which you down gratefully. there’s also the smell of food coming from outside the room.
you can piece two and two together that you’re probably in the home of someone you know.. your brain racks for information of what had happened last night but it’s only causing it to ache even more.
gojo.
you shake your head and make your way to what seems to be the bathroom to tidy yourself up. you notice that your’re still clad in your clothes of last night, so gojo had done the courtesy of tucking you in.
after you’re done, you take a deep breath and head outside.
you navigate your way down the hallway and follow the smell of food. as you turn the corner, you catch the sight of satoru in the kitchen. not that you doubted that the greatest sorcerer could cook, but for some reason, he looks so domestic.
he’s simply wearing sweats and a loose fitting shirt, your back turned to you as he tends to the stove, but the mere sight of it has your heart leaping into your throat. you have a feeling that it’s a sight meant for you, for you to see.
you don’t no how long you stand there, but suddenly a laugh rings through the kitchen from satoru teasingly. “take a picture, sweetheart, it’ll last longer.”
you yelp, embarrassed. (sweetheart? you try not to think about it, but you hate the way it makes your heart leap again. he’s just.. messing with you.) “erm.. sorry. good morning, gojo.” you approach the kitchen and take a seat at the counter.
when he finally turns to you, he’s not wearing his usual black blindfold, but instead what seems to be white bandages. you haven’t seen it on him before, but you don’t comment on it though.
he says good morning back before serving you some food, which you thank him for gratefully. “thank you for the painkillers too. i didn’t do anything embarrassing last night, did i?” you inquire, half jokingly.
you try to remember what had happened last night, but your memories are still a bit hazy. all you can recall is talking with him about things and staring at him. (you’re not going to tell him that though.)
“nah,” he waves off, “just told me your darkest secrets, s'all.”
you straighten up. “what?”
“kidding, kidding!” he snickers.
you groan and drag your plate to you. “i didn’t know you could cook.”
satoru looks mildly offended, emitting a dramatic gasp as he waves the spatula at you in a petulant manner. “hey now, i’m no expert. but i can at least make some sort of breakfast.”
(he totally did not look up a tutorial on how to cook for you. definitely not. but he’s a natural at everything, so at least his naturally gifted skill is in his favor this time.)
“thank you, gojo.” a smile tugs at the edges of your mouth.
“satoru.”
“what?”
“c’mon, you’re literally eating breakfast in my kitchen,” he laughs, sliding a mug of coffee (probably with extra cream and sugar because it’s gojo) towards you across the counter. “satoru’s fine.”
you test the name on your tongue, paying little attention to the way it makes the man before you stiffen up as you grab the coffee. “satoru.. thanks, satoru.” you think you can get used to saying that.
(he does too.)
satoru turns away back to the stove. “you’re welcome.”
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“hey satoru, what did you say what you wanted again? i’m thinking bubble tea but i dunno..”
he likes the way his name sounds from you.
“uh, satoru? satoru? helloo, earth to gojo satoru? satoru!”
oh.
fuck, he hadn’t realized he had spaced out. gojo lifts his head in a sudden motion, making a surprised noise. he smiles sheepishly. “what’s up?”
“you feeling alright, satoru?” you tilt your head.
keep saying his name.
“awhh, i’m feeling more than alright, sweetheart.” he shoots you a grin, liking the way your eyes reflect the café lights, giving it a warm hue. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”
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“you seem to be in a good mood lately,” megumi points out. ijichi, in the front see, looks at the two of them through the rear view in silent agreement.
(a lot of people have noticed actually.)
gojo pauses, halfway through unwrapping the plastic of a popsicle. it’s the same one he used to consume during his youth, but his taste really hasn’t changed after all this time. “oh?”
the teenager eyes him narrowly. “yeah.”
gojo merely hums and pops the icy treat into his mouth.
“heh, i guess i am.”
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you can hear gojo and shoko’s voices coming from the infirmary, causing you to smile absentmindedly. you didn’t think you’d be enjoying their company this much in the recent months—especially satoru’s.
(strangely, it feels so natural to be around him, you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same. you try to write it off as spending so much time together for a while now, but you can’t lie when you say he doesn’t make the stomach churn with butterflies.)
you turn the corner and announce your presence to the two with a smile and wave. you catch sight of them when they glance over to you, noticing something different.
shoko is wearing her usual white coat with a cigarette in hand, but she’s got her hair tied up in a rare bun to keep any strands from her face.
but that’s not what’s different as your gaze strays to the man next to her, the familiar frame of gojo catching you a bit off guard.
he’s wearing his glasses.
you’ve never seen him wear anything but his blindfold.
how does he look even more breathtaking than without it? you can’t see his eyes still, no—it’s a deep, deep shade of blue that still blocks his gaze from anyone else. but it’s a more casual look, seeing as his hair isn’t being help up and a few strands fall down and you can see his sharp facial features a bit more and-
and then he’s gone.
you audibly make a sound of confusion and hurt, because one moment he’s there and the next he’s no where to be seen. he had vanished without a single world.
he’s fucking avoiding you again; the realization of it makes your throat close up. after all you had been through with satoru.
“what the fuck was that?”
shoko stares at the space gojo had just been standing, just as lost as you.
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there’s a distance between the two of you again. it’s painstakingly familiar to when you had first met gojo and he had kept himself strictly professional with you.
and you don’t know why.
it’s back to the cold shoulder from him; you’re seeing him less and less around campus, and those times where you did hang out off duty are practically a thing of the past now.
satoru is going to be the death of you one day, you’re sure of it.
and you and satoru aren’t even.. a thing.
then again, you’re not even sure what you are. you’re friends, yes, that’s much more than clear, but why does it feel so much more intimate than that despite the fact that the two of you have never even done anything?
however.. a part of you knows that you want more. more of those days lying in the grass with him, more of those mornings eating breakfast with him in his home, more of those afternoon café runs, more of everything with satoru.
is that why does it hurts so much now that he’s pushed you away again?
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satoru is praying that you’re not in there with shoko as he approaches the infirmary a week later. she had called him over, and though he could’ve easily refused, he found himself obliging anyway.
“hey, what was that the other day?”
shoko is blunt and straight to the point once he arrived, striking him with a petulant and expectant gaze with her tired eyes.
gojo blinks innocently, tilting his head at shoko. “what was what?”
shoko then rolls her eyes. “you know what i’m talking about. what was that. you just- walked out like they we’re going to kill you or something.”
that’s the thing. you just might.
the white-haired man frowns and continues to feign innocence. he’s starting to wonder why he bothered coming here. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”
his avoidance causes shoko to frown as well and she crosses her arms. “you’re doing the same thing that you did with them when they first joined here.”
when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “avoiding them, pushing them away. i thought you didn’t have any problems with them. at this point, make up your mind because you’re just toying with their feelings and it’s not going to-”
“we’re soulmates,” satoru blurts out.
shoko is cut off, staring at him all wide-eyed for once. “you’re kidding.”
satoru falters. “i’m not. s’why i always wear the blindfold. and that’s why i.. i ran last night. just my glasses was too risky.”
what if he had angled his head the wrong way, what if you saw his eyes, what if you finally realized that you were fated to be together at the whims of the universe? he couldn’t do that to you.
“how long have you-”
“since we first met. i.. i could see it because of six eyes,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know why. i didn’t think i could have another one after-”
the two fall quiet at the mention of suguru, a heavy feeling hanging in the air between them.
“what are you going to do?” shoko asks quietly.
satoru sounds wrecked. “..i don’t know.”
“well.” shoko smushes her cigarette against the surface of the metal table. “you better do something before it’s too late.”
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unfortunately, the higher ups have also noticed.
(the push and pull that has been going on between the pride of the gojo clan and a random transferred sorcerer from kyoto. nothing goes unseen by their tight hold on jujutsu society.)
and you are none the wiser when you’re an assigned a mission late so at night, at a secluded edge of tokyo. you would’ve questioned it, but after looking over the details, it seems easy enough since it was a low level curse.
ijichi drops you off near the location and bids you luck. the night is dark, with the shape of the moon only peaking out every now and then due to the clouds to offer minimum light, and then the veil is coming up.
it’s fine though, as you start walking to get this over with. the faster, the better.
what the fuck? the cursed energy here is much stronger than you had anticipated, almost as if it’s suffocating. now uneasy, you continue your search with more caution.
a low growl sounds from somewhere behind you, and you turn on heel to brace yourself in case the curse decides to catch you off guard with an unexpected attack.
your heart drops.
it’s a grade one curse.
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something’s not right.
satoru can feel it. he can sense it in the air. something is lingering, a presence that makes even him feel uneasy, and he doesn’t know why. nothing makes him feel uneasy. but it’s a gut feeling, it’s the bond tugging and tugging and-
you.
something’s not right.
and then gojo is teleporting and finding ijichi in record time, giving the poor man a scare. gojo’s voice is on edge and leaves no room for argument as he demands the assistant director where he had driven you minutes prior. the veil still stands, undisturbed.
fuck, fuck, fuck- shoko was right. he should’ve done something before it was too late, because now it might actually be too late as he steps through the veil.
it’s too quiet for his liking, but the lingering silence only lasts for a few heartbeats before he hears you scream.
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you’re going to die.
you don’t want to think that, but you’re definitely not going to make it out of this unscathed as you dodge the curse’s scarily accurate attacks, as if it knows where you’re going to move and land.
the curse screeches out something ugly, and you’re too stunned to react in time as one of its malformed limbs swings down with a speed that you can’t comprehend.
your throat cries for help even as the air out of your lungs, but then there’s the sudden brilliant flash of red that blinds your vision.
satoru?
you can’t see and your body aches everywhere while the sounds of the curse fade out. it’s replaced by the sound of someone speaking frantically. it is satoru as he crouches down at you, hands coming to lift you up gently. his infinity is off. “hey, hey it’s me,” he voices, “it’s me, sweetheart.”
satoru, it’s satoru. satoru is here.
you emit a sigh of relief, cloudy vision gradually focusing. you try and focus it on satoru, tracing over his features repeatedly, trying to engrave it into your memory.
“shit. those damn higher ups,” gojo grits his teeth into an angered scowl. the higher ups? were they behind this? you don’t know, but you know that you’ve ever seen him this furious before. “i am going to rip those old geezers apart limb from li-”
“satoru, we need to head back.”
he looks dazed, tufts of snowy hair now hanging a bit loosely over his blindfold compared to when it’s normally pushed upright. he even sounds dazed, the great gojo satoru, when he says, “yeah. yeah, okay.”
he’s holding on to you tight and suddenly everything seems to get blurry for less than a second before you blink. you realize he’s teleported you both not to the school, not to shoko’s infirmary, but to his penthouse.
the interior is at least familiar: white walls, a little messy, a couple of decorations, and—
“my place,” he clarifies, as if he had read your thoughts. he sets you down on his couch, uncaring if you’re staining the color of the cushions. but he doesn’t let go, hands still cradling your form so tight that you don’t know if you’re still shaking or that he is.
“are you okay?” you utter out weakly and scan him for any injuries while clutching at his arms, which is ridiculous because he’s untouchable. but you’re not in the right mind right now, and you have a feeling he isn’t either.
“i should be the one asking you that,” he retorts, and you also have the feeling he’s doing the same thing with you with the help of his six eyes.
“i’m alright,” you try to reassure him with a small shake of your head. it only aids you in wincing, but the pain is the last thing on your mind. especially with him here. “it’s fine.”
“it’s not fine,” he argues, his hold tightening even more on you, if that was even possible. is that a slight tremor in his voice? “you almost died.”
“and why do you care?” it’s not a malicious question from you. it’s more of confusion, of genuine. after all you’ve been through with satoru, you’re not sure where he stands. what he feels.
he seems startled by your question, like he can’t believe you could ask such a thing. “of course i care! why-”
you clench your fists in your lap, eyes tracing over his face repeatedly. “i don’t know what you want anymore from me, satoru! you’re not- you’re not telling me the truth.”
“i didn’t want to hurt you,” he tells you hoarsely. god, you wish you could see what he’s thinking. what’s going on in that head of his.
“you did hurt me.”
gojo trembles. “i know.”
“you seem to know a lot of things.” your voice sounds tired. your hand goes to rest on his chest, where you can faintly feel his heartbeat underneath. (oh, to be the only one who can touch gojo satoru like this.) “what are you hiding from me?”
“i can’t hide anything from you.” he draws a slow intake of breath. he then whispers,
“but how am i supposed to tell you that we’re soulmates?”
your heart skips a beat.
gojo satoru is your soulmate?
astonished, you now stare at him with wide eyes. “why- why didn’t you tell me??” you ask, voice cracking. to think, all this time, your soulmate had been right there, right beside you, right in front of you.
then it all clicks. his off-standish behavior, his reluctant interactions, his avoidance. his blindfold. he didn’t want you to see his eyes.
he’s known all this time somehow—and oh, oh. his six eyes. your lips part in realization as you stare hard, as if you could see his damned eyes beneath the cloth that hides you from the truth.
“i thought that if you knew that we were soulmates, you’d-” satoru shakes his head. “something always happens to the people i love.” he hesitates, “you still have a chance. you can find someone else.”
“what if i don’t want someone else??” you say out softly in protest, gripping the lapels of his uniform.
gojo shakes his head again. despite this, he doesn’t let you go. like he can’t, like he doesn’t want to. “we’re not bonded yet,” he says your name shakily. “please.”
still gripping the collar of his uniform, you tug him closer to you desperately. it’s so clear, so obvious that he wanted this.
“satoru, have you thought about what i wanted?” you breathe out, feeling tears well up in your eyes, “that maybe, there’s a chance that i want to take the risk? that i want to be bonded to you?”
your eyes flicker down to his lips momentarily. “that i want you too?”
satoru’s breath stutters.
“you haven’t seen my eyes.”
you cup satoru’s face in your hands, swiping your thumb under the space where his eye is hidden with a fierce tenderness that makes him listen.
“satoru, i didn’t need to see your eyes to fall in love with you.”
your confession has him stilling.
(all the times he had stiffened up in your presence, he had been falling for you, bit by bit. you know that now.)
his hand comes to cover yours, the one that’s still resting on his cheek, fingers smoothing over your knuckles. and then his hand continues to go up, up, up, and-
he tugs the blindfold up and over his head, revealing his eyes to you at last.
his eyes are gorgeous, a blue that seems to spill into your vision and take over your senses. a blue that you can get lost in, a blue that reminds you of the summer sky, a blue that tethers your soul to his, and you both can feel it.
the bond between you is so electrifying that you nearly forget how to breathe.
and then satoru is surging forward, closer, even closer, until your breath is his and you forget how to breathe for a whole different reason entirely.
he’s kissing you.
he kisses you like you might disappear right before him, his head angling into yours to capture your lips with a force that makes your world spin.
and you return it tenfold, one hand still cradling his face while the other sneaks to dig its fingers into his undercut, and he’s making a noise into your mouth with fervor.
you’re all too aware of his heat against you, the frantic touches he’s now giving into as he draws you closer. the surface of the sofa dissipates into nothingness and then-
suddenly he’s teleporting you both again—or maybe he’s kissing you dizzy. but you realize you’re now in space that’s not overly familiar with you, but you can tell it’s most likely his bedroom based off of the feel of the lush satin sheets underneath you.
less than an hour ago you were fighting for your life, and now you’re fighting for your life on gojo satoru’s bed.
“satoru, s’toru, wait-” you’re gasping for air, for something as he engulfs you with his presence. he’s everywhere all at once, and it feels as if the bond is intensifying everything he’s doing to you.
“nuh uh. think we’ve both waited long enough for this, baby,” he gasps against your lips, like it’s impossible to be separated from you again, “don’t know how much i wanted this, wanted you. drove me crazy.”
his words makes your head all fuzzy. you don’t even know if it’s the bond anymore, or just the way he makes you feel. maybe even both. your lungs feeling like they’re burning, but even then, you manage to get out,
“you have me, ‘toru, you have me.”
“yeah?” when he pulls back, it’s not even a few inches, his nose brushing against yours. his alluring eyes glimmer in the darkness of the room, and you’re almost so mad that you feel like kissing him again because he’s kept them from you for so long.
your hands hook over his neck again. when your fingers run over his undercut again, you can actually feel him shiver, causing you to giggle in delight. “yeah, ‘toru.”
“yeah, pretty,” he sighs out and he’s losing himself in everything that is you once more so willingly. your eyes, your very being, compels him to give you everything, so he does. “y’have me too. all of me.”
his confession rings through your ears before he’s kissing you again, kissing you breathless. it’s a blur on what happens next; feverish touches and passionate symphonies, but one thing’s for sure,
the magnetic glow of his eyes in the dark of that night is something that you’ll never forget.
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as your stir amongst the tousled bedsheets, you can feel the warmth of a certain someone creeping over you, like a cozy cat searching for cuddles.
your eyes peer open to meet the blurry sight of the ceiling, along with the sight of messy white hair tickling your chin.
“good morning to you, sweetheart,” a voice says cheekily, followed by cascading kisses down your jawline, prompting you to giggle softly.
you watch sunlight spill over into the bedroom, engulfing the man above you in an angelic glow as he finally pulls back to look down at you.
so maybe you didn’t fall in love at first sight with gojo satoru.
that’s okay.
cause as you stare up into your soulmate’s pretty ceruleans in the morning light, you think you can fall in love with him like this a little more.
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BONUS!
“you owe me.”
nanami drags a hand over his face as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. “this is the first and last time i make a bet with you,” he grumbles.
shoko merely smirks. “you have such little faith in gojo.”
“bet or not, can we go back to before they were together?” nanami looks like he’s close to investing in a pair of one of gojo’s glasses that can block any normal person’s vision.
satoru is clinging onto you like a sloth.
“babyyyyy,” your boyfriend whines, resting his chin on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your torso. you can’t help but giggle, endeared by his clinginess. (he had claimed it was to make up for the way he had acted in the past and for lost time.)
he’s like another part of you now. not that you mind. being his soulmate is everything and more—from the tender touches to the passionate ones, to the talks of everything: to the mundane to the serious. after all, your soul is his, and his soul is yours.
(and then his hands are sneaking off to places they shouldn’t be.)
“‘toru, not here!”
nanami heaves out another sigh as his hand comes to pinch the bridge of his nose. “is it too late to quit being a sorcerer again?”
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TAGLIST : @spn-obession , @deepestartisanhumanoidshark , @scarasw1f3 , @kalopsia-flaneur , @90s-belladonna , @peachipeachy , @chrystinaamanda , @kalulakunundrum , @hunnyheavenn , @dekusdante , @dontmindmelove , @cherries-lostgirls , @rv19 , @etherealstarlightqueen
+ a/n: this fic ended up being way no longer than i expected omg.. but thanks to all who asked to be on the taglist !! some didnt work so im sorry about that </3
like this fic? feel free to go ahead and check out my other works here! -> masterlist
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bwere · 1 day
Text
WHAT'S AFTER PLAN B?
after missing your period, you decided to take a pregnancy test, whatever happens next depends on him.
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feature: choso, gojo, geto | part ii: nanami, sukuna, toji, hiromi
content: 4.5k+ wc — not proofread + mentions of pregnancy, slight guilt trip, possessive sēx, light cm play, dggystyle, m!reciving, pssy eating, fluff, nastay
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CHOSO KAMO
Choso had been enamored with you since the day you two first met, and ever since he had been by your side whenever he had the chance, like a lost puppy. 
However, he was no different during sex, but rather–worse. 
The day you graced him with the chance to even see her at all, never in his life had he been so hard that it hurt to move. In that moment he wanted to cum so bad—already having a pool of pre-cum seeping embarrassingly through the thread of his boxers. 
He never wanted to pull out of your tight hole, never dared to dream of a day he wasn’t fucking you after your first time together. The same hole that has his hips stuttering as he pounds into your tight cunt, drooling. every. time.
The same pussy that took his virginity, what else would he be if not obsessed? Nothing would ever relate to the way your insides claimed him. Not his hands, not ever any toys, not anyone else, just you.
You had him locked in a chokehold from the start—and the day you trusted him to take care of your insides was the day he swore he would do anything for you.
He fucks you like his only purpose in life was to please you—trying to get you pregnant, emptying every last drop he has in you. Never taking his dick out, giving you two a second to catch your breath, before hes fucking into you even harder.
Is it really so surprising as he now holds your pregnancy test while you wait for him to respond?  
“…Y-You’re?” he gulps as the weight of reality sinks in–his heart struggling to function at the sudden news.
You forewarned him numerous times, that if he didn’t stop cumming in you every time you had sex, that birth control wouldn’t even be able to stop the carelessness of his actions—that would only end up with you pregnant. 
“Pregnant, yes.” you bit your lip, looking down at your feet as the room shifts into silence. Leaving your mind to wonder until he begins to open his mouth. 
His eyebrows slightly furrow as he turns to face you, seeming taken aback. “Are you going to keep it?" he asks.
“I've thought about it.” you quip with a sigh.
His eyes map your face with attentiveness, looking for falter between the lines of your words. Sliding closer to you, making you feel the weight of the couch dip. “And?”
“Anddd, I want to know how you’d feel if we were to—possibly try?” 
A switch in Choso's mind flickered. The plush cushions yielded beneath his weight, and suddenly, you were lying flat on your back, pinned by the force of his body against yours. His chest pressed against your ribs, and your breath caught in your throat.
“Do you know how long I've wished to watch your belly grow? To let everyone know I'm the one who stuffed you full of my cum, made you the soon to be mother of our child?” 
“Well I-”
His eyes bore into yours, searching for answers. “Tell me,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to yours, “How would you feel? Walking around while everyone knows you got fucked by me so good, that you ended up pregnant?”
You swallowed, your pulse racing. “I'd feel…” the words escaped you, lost in the intensity of the moment. “I'd feel proud letting everyone know you’re mine.”
Choso’s thumb brushed against your lower lip, and you leaned into his touch. his mouth hovered over yours, a breath away. “Don’t you want to make me proud?”
“Y-Yes…so proud,” you nodded.
Then without warning, his lips met yours—a collision of heat and longing. The couch bounced again, but this time, it was forgotten. All that mattered was the taste of him, the way his kiss ignited a thousand sparks within you.
Admittedly, making your pussy clench just from the tension. 
His hand cradled your jaw, thumb brushing against your cheekbone as if committing every detail to memory. When he finally pulled away, your lips tingled, and you struggled to catch your breath. 
Choso’s eyes bleeding into yours, dark and unreadable. The room felt charged, as if the air itself crackled with unspoken promises. “Then let’s make sure you do.”
You could feel his growing arousal against your thigh, reminding you of the very reason why you were in this predicament.
"I've been thinking about getting you pregnant constantly," he whispered, his hands roaming over your body. "I can't get enough of you, baby."
“C-Cho’ need it inside…please…” you felt your worries melt away as you surrendered to his touch. You’ve thought about it too, desperately, and he made sure you were gonna get just that. Your clothes falling to the floor, as you kissed and touched each other without plan. 
Choso positioned himself between your legs, looking deep into your eyes.
"I've been missin’ her," he said, stroking your thighs. "Seems like she missed me too,"
“Mnh—don’ tease Cho’….”
“H-Hah, how am i s’posed to say no to that?” positioning his throbbing dick at the entrance of your soaked pussy he slowly thrusted forward.  
Both of you gasped as you felt yourself being stretched and filled by his inconsiderable length. He paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of being sheathed in your tightness. 
"You like that, pretty?" earning a moan from the depths of your throat—meeting his thrusts with eager hips. 
"Y-Yes…!," you whispered, licking your lips. "I love it—f-fuck me, Cho’. Make me a mommy…mngha"
Choso began to move, sliding in and out of you with long, deep strokes. He watched as his cock disappeared inside you, only to emerge glistening and slick. You threw your head back, moaning loudly as your whole body trembled with pleasure.
Choso fucked your worries and stress as they melt away. You loved the way he made you feel—wanted, desired, and absolutely worshiped.
His breath was hot against your neck as he whispered dirty words of encouragement. "T-That’s it pretty, take it all, mnguh—” he grunted. "Your pussy feels s-suh good, s-squeezin’ my dick. m’ gonna cum so deep inside you..."
You knew you shouldn't encourage his reckless behavior, but in that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care. You just wanted to feel him cum inside of you.
"C-Uhm for me, cho—ngh!” you begged. "Wan’uh feel it deep in my womb!”
“Oh f-fuck, she’s milking me so tight baby…mmmphn!” with a guttural groan, Choso obeyed, pushing deep till his load shot inside of you, his cock pulsating in the process.
His cum was seeping out of you and pushing you over the edge yet again. Crying his name like it was your first word, your pussy surrendering around him, savoring the last drop of his exhausted cock. 
“Mmgnh—you’re so pretty like this, stuffed full of my b-babies…shit..”
GOJO SATORU
ring ring ring ring
You paced around the kitchen anxiously awaiting for Satoru to pick up the call.
You were one week late for your period, and while dealing with Satoru physically trained you to be prepared with plan b at all times, this time it finally failed.
Satoru knew how to pull out sure, it’s the fact that he just never really wanted too. Yeah he loved watching his cum drip off your tits, painting your body, or slipping off his tip and resting on your tastebuds. He’s just much rather watch your tight pussy struggling to hold in his cum from leaking out. 
He'd continuously rearrange your insides and clean up any mess he left behind. Satoru won't acknowledge that he has occasionally wondered what you would look like if you were carrying his child. Your love handles would get doughier than usual, and your nipples, hard and lactating, the whole concept made him ignore the negative aspects. And while having a child is a blessing, his life's ambition was to have one with you.
Every time he saw your pussy strain to contain his cum, he secretly hoped that one day you would fall pregnant in order to bring downfall on your plan b pills. It’s not as if they were safe for you anyways, right?
What trouble could one child bring…
“Satoru? hello?”
“Yes, my love?” 
There’s a moment of calm static on the other end of the line. 
“I missed my period by a week, it didn’t even hit me until I looked at the calendar.” 
“Really? Are you sure?” with a smile that defies words, he asks.
"Yes, I'm sure—" you say, opening your mouth to let out a frustrated sigh, "and a little worried, too."
“Hey, don’ be scared, this could be a good thing. Can you imagine? A little one who has your beauty and my charm?”
“Satoru…” you groan.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but I want you to know that i’m here for you, no matter what. We’ll figure this out together, okay?” trying to soothe your anxieties he speaks again, “Why don’ you use my card and get a test?” 
“So what happens if it’s positive?” 
“Then we can figure out the rest. If not, then my answer still stands.”
Before you speak, there's a pause during which you can hear his students' soft voices blending momentarily with the call's background noise, taking it as a sign the calls about to end. “I guess I’ll take one."
“Atta girl, look, I have to go but I love you and I'll see you when I get home ‘kay?” 
“Alright, I love you too, toru’ bye.”
beep beep beep—
Unusually quiet, the house remained hushed after you hung up. the next few hours, feeling like your mind was against you, terrible thoughts creeping in your head.
It felt like there was a war with your heart and mind that made your gut queasy. 
All you could think about were the amount of things that could go wrong. What if something happens that causes you to lose the baby? What if having a baby starts to hinder Satoru’s life outside of you? There’s too much at risk you thought.
You pick up Satoru's credit card and use it while you scroll through your favorite online grocery store. The familiar layout of the website distracting you with certainty to the whirlwind of emotions you’re experiencing.
You add your favorite snacks, the ones that always manage to lift your spirits. As you browse through the website, you remember the most important item - the pregnancy test. within a few more clicks, the test is added to your cart.
Once you’ve reviewed the order, you proceed to checkout. you enter Satoru’s card details, and with a final click, the order is placed. A sense of relief washes over you. Now, all you have to do is wait.
As you wait for the delivery, you decide to take a shower. The idea of the warm water feels comforting against your nerves. 
Dropping your towel as you stepped onto the ceramic flooring—turning on the shower head quickly after, you let out a sigh as the streams of water began to run down your face. 
You tried to calm yourself, letting the water wash away the tension in your position. The shower becoming a sanctuary, a place where you can let your guard down and just be. 
You lose track of time as the water envelops down, each droplet echoing your heartbeat. 
The steam fills the bathroom, creating a soothing atmosphere. As you let your thoughts wander, thinking about the future, about Satoru, and about the possible life growing inside you.
Until hearing the front door open and close—pulling you from your daze. Signaling, Satoru was home.
A few moments later, you could hear him dropping his keys on the nightstand in your shared room. Then quietly making his way to the bathroom and without a word, eventually joining you in the shower. 
"Satoru—" you started, but he cut you off.
“How do you feel now?" he asked, his voice gentle.
You hesitated for a moment before answering, "Um, alittle better, anything new happen at work?”
Satoru looked at you, his eyes soft but serious. "Don’t try changin’ the subject," he said, his tone firm.
You looked at him, surprised by his intensity, "M’ not, Satoru. m’ just... trying to process everything."
His head resting against your neck, as he caved his large frame behind you. “Some things you don’t need to process alone y’know,” 
You didn't respond to him. the sounds only the shower provides, shooting streams that drench you both equally. "I just don't want this to get in the way of your work," you confess, turning to face him. 
As the water continued to cascade down, Satoru gently cupped your face, his thumb tracing your cheek. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of emotions - concern, anticipation, and most importantly, love. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead, a silent promise of his unwavering support. “Would’ve had a different reaction if I didn’t want this, you know that right?”
He cut you off before you could even reply, leaning in - to capture your lips with his. It was a gentle kiss, filled with passion. The romantic tension between you two was palpable, the air in the shower becoming steamy. But it was a sweet kind of tension, one that spoke volumes about the depth of your feelings for each other.
As you pulled away, you looked into Satoru’s eyes, clouded by his lust and love for you–now reflecting back to yours. “Do I need to show you just how much I want this baby?”
"Depends, how would you go about doing that, hmm?" 
“You tell me baby,” with a sly grin, Satoru wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to him, pressing his body against yours in the steamy shower. His hands roamed skillfully up and down your body, caressing and exploring your every curve and contour.
You let out a soft moan as his lips found the nape of your neck, and you tilted your head back, melting into his touch. "I think–I have a pretty good idea of how you're going to show me," you breathed, your voice husky with temptation.
Satoru's eyes glinted mischievously as he smiled, “Then you must know what I want you to do.” 
You could feel how much Satoru wanted you, and to say you wanted him back was an understatement.
You gave in to his request without thinking twice, bending over and exposing yourself to him, spreading yourself just like he wanted. His hands settled softly on your hips as he drew you in, admiring the way you had yourself on show for him, relishing in the beauty of your form. 
His cock rested heavily as he chided against your pussy. He cautiously grounded your lower body while stroking your clit with his tip moving it back and forth. 
“Mmmn–toru’” 
“Aww…so wet f’me already?” he chuckles, breathy grunts in between.
“I-Its just the water mgnh…!–”
Satoru traversed himself beneath you and stepped in between your legs, gently separating them. you sighed softly as his fingers probed your warm folds and you felt an electric current flow through every nerve in your body.
He spoke in your ear, his deep voice resonating through you, "Whatever helps you sleep at night sweetheart,’’
Satoru put his hands on your hips and moved slowly at first, taking in every part of your body as he made his way inside. He picked up the pace, driving deeper and harder into you with each thrust, making you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up. “Ooh–fuck toru’ t’s too much..”
“Nothin’ you can’t handle mmmhmm- isn’t that right?” pleasure filled every inch of your body, and Satoru's eyes were fixed on yours, mirroring your own yearning. with each passing second that went by, you could feel the pressure inside of you growing. 
“–Mgnhmm, I can- toru’ fuck! I can handle it…!” 
“Baby–shit…your cunt’s s-swallowin’ me baby fuhck—no wonder you missed your period..” 
Your bodies well submerged in the soaking shower, Satoru pumped into you with all he could, his thrusts growing harder and faster. Making you cry out in exhilaration—begging him to make you cum–telling him how good he was making you feel.
“Y-Yeah? gonna c-cum too pretty…fuck! ughn, cum on my cock like you mean in baby…wanna feel them walls spasmin’” he panted. his fingers, tight on your face, drawing you nearer as he gave you a heated kiss. 
Satoru kept thrusting into you, his pace growing more erratic as you both were ready to cum, your lips never daring to leave each other. you were lost in pleasure, just as much as he was. relishing the feeling of his hard body pressed against yours, the sensation of his firm hands holding you tight.
“Mmmnuph!–toru’ pleash m’ cummin’!” 
Satoru looked into your eyes intensely, whispering sweet nothings as his hand caressed your face. "You did s-so good, baby," he murmured, "Your lil hole’ so full of my cum mmmh." his voice was laced with adoration.
“You look so beautiful,” his eyes ran over you, softly. "Honna look even better with my baby in your belly, aren’tcha?" Satoru whispered in your ear.
“Oh hush…Satoru.”
“Jus’ sayin,” he smiled widely.
Just as you and Satoru were reveling in the afterglow of your shared orgasm, there was a loud ring from your front door, startling you both out of your passionate daze. 
ding-dong
“What the hell?” Satoru groaned against your neck.
“Oops–I forgot about the groceries I ordered earlier.” you sighed, causing Satoru to chuckle at your antics. “I'll get them for you baby, just get cleaned up.”
GETO SUGURU
You both had been trying for a while now, and each month brought a mix of hope and disappointment. But he never let it bring you down.
He’d fuck your worries away if it mean’t you’d never have doubt - and hell, he did it anyway. 
These past nights ending with you being fucked out on his cock–struggling to keep up with his endurance for hours. He’d come home and fuck you, wake up in the morning and fuck you, finish dinner and fuck you. He’d fill you so good, he was sure your pussy was a supervillain—sucking his orgasm straight from his soul.
You knew these things take time, and so did he. But, Geto on the other hand—was more than happy, getting to fuck you relentlessley every night, having a reason ignore your whimpers for him to give you a moment, only for him to remind you, “We have to make sure you get pregnant baby, isn’t that what you wanted? To grow my child in your lil’ womb hmm?”
And after those same nights, you would lay in bed with Geto, his arms wrapped around you, whispering sweet words of encouragement after he just fucked you unwalkable.
 “We'll get there, baby,” he would say, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. “We just need to be patient.”
You were both lounging around the house, enjoying the lazy day. Geto was reading a book while you were trying to decide what to make for dinner. opening the fridge, you sighed.
 “Sugu’, we’re out of almost everything,” you called out, staring at the nearly empty shelves.
Geto looked up from his book, raising an eyebrow. “Really? I thought we just went shopping,” he replied, setting his book down and walking over to join you.
You shrugged, stepping aside to let him see for himself. “Guess we forgot to pick up a few things,” you said, watching as he scanned the contents of the fridge.
Geto hummed in agreement, closing the fridge door. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?” he said, turning to look at you. “How about we go to the store? We can pick up what we need and maybe grab something for dinner too.”
You nodded, appreciating his willingness to help out. “Sounds like a plan, Sugu’,” you replied, grabbing your wallet and keys. “Let's go.”
He picked up a shopping cart as soon as you both entered the store and began navigating the aisles. Geto took the lead, pushing the cart while you walked beside him, a shopping list in hand.
After getting most of the things you needed, it came time to check out.
Unbeknownst to Geto, you had secretly picked up a pregnancy test and slipped it into the basket. Your heart racing as the cashier picked up the test, scanning it without a second glance. You held your breath, wondering if Geto had noticed. But he remained silent, paying for the items and chatting casually with the cashier.
The sun was starting its slow descent, casting a warm golden glow through the kitchen window as you returned home.
Your heart was pounding in your chest, a secret hidden within those shopping bags you carefully placed on the counter. You busied yourself, unpacking the groceries, your hands slightly shaking as you tried to appear calm and collected. But Geto, ever observant, noticed your nervous energy from across the room. 
He watched you for a moment, a knowing look in his eyes, before quietly making his way over. Sliding his arms around your waist, he pulled you back against his chest, his palms roaming across your hips, caressing the curves of your body. You let out a soft gasp as his touch sent a jolt through you.
He leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, his warm breath tickling your skin, "Wanna tell me what this is all about, baby?" 
You froze, your heart pounding in your ribs. Of course, he had seen the pregnancy test. "I just wanted to be sure, Sugu’," you replied, your voice soft and hesitant. "I didn't want to get your hopes up." his hands stilled on your hips and you could feel his eyes on you as he waited for you to turn and face him. 
"Why didn't you tell me, sweetheart?" Geto asked, his voice gentle and full of understanding. "We've been hoping for this. I know it's a big deal, but we're in this together." his palms were gentle as they slid up your stomach, his thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts.
"No secrets, remember?" he murmured, his lips now placing soft kisses along your jaw. 
Turning in his arms, you found yourself face-to-face with him, his eyes searching yours. "I know, and I'm sorry," you whispered, your worries melting away under the intense gaze. 
His hands continued their exploration, sliding up your thighs now, drawing you closer against him so you could feel his cock against your belly. "Let me make it up to you," you breathed, your eyes dropping to his lips. 
without another word, you dropped to your knees in front of him, running your hands up his powerful thighs. you could feel his eyes on you as you undid his belt, your heart pounding with anticipation.
His hands kneading the back of your neck as you pulled his zipper down, freeing his thick, hard cock. You paused for a moment, looking up at him, before taking the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head, tasting his pre-cum. 
A soft groan escaped his lips as you took more of him into your mouth, slowly working your way down his length. Your hands rested on his thighs for support as you took him deeper, your nose nuzzling his pubic bone. He filled your mouth completely, and you relaxed your throat, taking him all the way down, your lips brushing his balls. 
He let out a sharp breath, his hands tightening in your hair. "Fuuuck, baby, that feels so good," he grunted, his hips beginning to move gently, thrusting slowly into your wet, warm mouth. 
You looked up at him, your eyes smoldering, as you began to bob your head, sucking and licking, taking pleasure in your power over him. 
He tasted so good, and you wanted to pleasure him, to show him how much you cared. You slid your hands up his thighs, gripping his ass, pulling him deeper into your throat as you moaned softly around him. 
His movements became more urgent, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth with a wet, sucking sound. 
"Keep goin’ princess," he grunted, his hips stuttering as he held you in place, his cock thrusting deep into your throat. you relaxed and took him, your nails digging into his thighs as he began to cum, spurting hot and salty into your throat. 
“Mmgnhguk–!” you swallowed around him, milking him with your mouth, drawing out his orgasm. as his hips stilled, you slowly pulled off him, licking your lips, a satisfied smile on your face. 
He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes clouded with wanting. "That was…that was amazing, baby. But now, I needa’ to taste you." he pulled you up, crushing his lips to yours, kissing you deeply, passionately, tasting himself on your tongue.
His hands roamed your body, cupping your tits, squeezing and teasing your nipples through your shirt. You moaned into his mouth, your hands fumbling with his buttons, needing to feel skin on skin. “Mmngh–Sugu’..”
He broke the kiss, breathing heavily, as guided you onto the counter, spreading your legs. As he knelt before you, his eyes hot as he pulled your pants down, revealing your wet, eager pussy. "So fucking gorgeous," he murmured, his breath hot against your sensitive skin as he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your inner thigh. 
You let out a soft whimper, anticipation coiling tight within you. Then - his tongue was on you, licking slow and deep, teasing your clit, making you squirm. 
His hands gripped your knees, holding you in place as he feasted, sucking and lapping at your sweetness. 
“Su-Suguru…mmnh!” you moaned his name, your hands tangling in his hair, holding him against you as your hips bucked gently.
"Mmm, you taste so fucking good," he hummed against your pussy, sending vibrations through you as his tongue delved deep, then circled your sensitive clit. 
"Cum for me, baby, I want to feel you cum, fuckin’ need it baby." his fingers now joined, two of them sliding inside you, curling and stroking that magic spot deep within your pussy. 
You cried out, your body tightening around his fingers as your orgasm hit. He held you through it, his tongue relentless, lapping at your juices as you rode out the waves of pleasure.
"That's it, baby, let go f’me," he mumbled, his voice a soft purr. As the tremors began to subside, he slowed, placing gentle kisses along your sensitive slit. Leaving you panting, your body sated, a satisfied smile on your face as you looked down at him. 
He stood, both of his palms facing flat by your sides, kissing you deeply. "You did so good, pretty girl." he smirked against your mouth, his hands holding you close. "I could say the same to you handsome," you grinned back, pressing your lips to his. 
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tayytayy12 · 2 days
Text
Florida !!! | LN4 x Reader
Summary - Reader and Lando have been together since his rookie season, she was there through every DNF and every podium, she was there for Sochi 2021, she was there to comfort him through all the bad times, so of course she’d be his number one supporter when he finally brings home a win.
Warnings - Swearing, but overall just fluff
Type - Written work, small SMAU at the end
Requested - no
Notes - Idk why it’s taken me so long to write something for Lando’s win 🫢 not been proofread apu
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You and Lando had been together since his rookie season, the two of you had met in school and over time your friendship had developed into something more, and you were so grateful that it had.
You was there on the day of his first ever race with McLaren, you remembered how he was a mess of nerves, and you was quick to reassure him that he would do good, you knew he would, you had always seen his talent. You had been right though with telling him not to worry, he came home with a P6, outscoring his teammate Carlos by quite a bit, the Spaniard driver scoring P15.
Since you made your first appearance at the 2019 Australian Grand Prix for your boyfriend’s debut, the two of you quickly became a fan favourite and gained the nickname the ‘it’ couple of the paddock when fans began to take notice of the heart eyes that Lando looked at you with at any possible occasion.
You were the first person he looked for to celebrate after his first ever podium, you were his shoulder to cry on after the events of Sochi 2021, you were everything to him, and he had no shame in admitting it.
It was currently the 2024 Miami Grand Prix, and you had managed to get time off of work to come and watch Lando race, he didn’t have a win in his mind that day, having qualified P6 and Max was on pole yet again, but he had his hopes set on a podium, which was very possible due to his skill and the bonus of the new upgrades that the team had put into the car.
“You’re going to do amazing Lan,” you said to him with a smile on your face and you reached up to run your fingers through his curls as he was finishing preparing for the race, “as always.”
He laughed and pulled your hand out of his hair to place a gentle kiss on your knuckles, “Thank you baby,” he said with a smile as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “I’ll try my best to get that podium for you, yeah?”
“You will do it Lan,” you said with a smile as you pulled him into a gentle kiss, “I believe in you. Now, go get that trophy for me baby, I’ll be watching.” You said as he smiled down and you and gave you one last kiss before going off and doing the final parts if readying himself for the race as you made your way to find Lily so the pair of you could watch the race together.
————
You had no words. All you could do is let out a chocked laugh as deafeningly loud cheers erupted around you as everyone in and even outside the McLaren garage cheered in long awaited victory.
He had done it. He had won. Lando had one a race. “Oh my god.” You said, you could hear the smile in your voice as you looked at the screen in front of you in disbelief and happiness and you heard your boyfriends loud cheers over the radio.
“WE DID IT! Oh my god. Oh my god. WE DID IT. Oh my, this is for the team, all of you for believing in me all these years, I’ve finally brought it home to you. Um, my mum and dad, and Y/n. I wouldn’t have been able to do this without all of your support. WE DID IT!”
Nothing could wipe the wide smile off of your face as Lily grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the podium celebration, Oscar’s girlfriend, one of your closest friends also couldn’t contain her smile as she watched the pure happiness on your face, god he had done it.
Your smile grew time times wider when Lando walked onto the top step of the podium, his smile not wavering, if anything growing ten times wider when he looked down and met your eyes. He couldn’t wait to see you.
————
It was a couple of hours after the race the he finally managed to go and find you, which wasn’t a very hard task, you was waiting for him in his drivers room like usual.
He walked in, that smile still plastered on his face as you jumped up when he opened the door and pulled him into a suffocating hug, “Hey baby.” He laughed as he hugged you back just as tight.
“You did it.” You muttered into his shoulder as Lando pulled you up so your legs wrapped around his waist, the pair of you still enveloped in each other’s arms, “my god I’m so fucking proud of you.”
“Thank you baby,” he said as you pulled away and smashed your lips to his, in a warm, gentle kiss that lasted until the two of you had to pull away to catch your breath, “You did so good out there today, had me biting my nails till you took the chequered flag.”
He laugh as he kept peppering kisses all over your face, “Thank you baby. This was for you, y’know. I wouldn’t never had made it this far if it wasn’t for you and all of your never ending support.”
You smiled at him, “I love you, Lando Norris. My Formula one race winner.”
He chuckled and pulled you into another tight hug, “Well Y/n Y/l/n, your formula one race winner lovers you even more.”
The pair of you along with a handful of other drivers and loads of members if the McLaren team went out that night to celebrate that night, but even drunk as fuck, Lando still knew that he wouldn’t have done it without you by his side, and you liked that though, because you never planned on leaving anyway.
-
Yourusername
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Liked by - LandoNorris, LilyZneimer, and 487,372 others
Tagged | @/LandoNorris
Yourusername - My god I didn’t think it was humanly possible to be so proud of a person. Lando, my love no one deserves this win more than you did, I remember watching your pure excitement and disbelief when you found out you would be joining F1 those years ago, and here you are now, my race winner. It’s been a long time coming, and I’m glad that I managed to get this time off of work. I love you more than anything in this world, this is just the first in a long line of victories for you. Forever your biggest fan. Florida really is a magical place. 🤍🧡
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LandoNorris - This was for, and because of you, baby. I love you 🤍
Yourusername - I love you more 🤍
-
509 notes · View notes
dashofghost · 1 day
Text
MY BODY AND MY BLOOD
or, there's only one bed. mdni.
Winter came early, earlier than it should have, before the heat could kick in throughout the middle of nowhere base somewhere in Russia. The day of travel weighed heavily on your shoulders, exhaustion seeking into your bones. You wanted nothing more than a shower and to fall into bed and sleep for the next week.
The universe, unfortunately, had other plans.
"Right," Price sighed, "barracks are full, we've got to share." His eyebrows furrowed as groans arose from Soap and Gaz, "can it, lads. You two are together, get used to it." Soap rolled his eyes dramatically, yelping as Gaz elbowed him in the side.
"You two," Price sighs, pointing at you and Ghost, "you'll be together. Rooms 142 and 143, don't care who gets who. Just show up tomorrow." You could feel Ghost behind you, hovering like some gargantuan bat. Oh god. You were going to have to share a room with him.
You're both quiet as the team heads down the hallway, Gaz and Soap's banter loud enough for the both of you. Price dismisses you with a gruff goodnight, all too eager to lock himself in his room.
"This is us." Ghost's timbre catches you off guard, and you start, head whipping over your shoulder. The lines around his eyes crinkle, or at least, you think they do, behind the mask and the paint.
"Sorry," he mutters, bowing his head, "didn't mean to scare ya, love."
Love. The nickname, however insignificant, paints your face with a flush. You try to hide it by pushing the door to your shared room open.
It's tiny, with a cramped bathroom attached by the foot of the bed. The only bed. Shit.
You laugh, a hollow, humorless laugh, the culmination of exhaustion and frustration and longing. Ghost groans, burying his head in his hands.
"I'll take the floor," he sighs, but you cut him off immediately.
"No, I'll take the floor. Where would you even fit on the floor? There's not enough floor to fit you," you snap back. Ghost glowers at you through his mask.
"You'll catch your death on the floor," he fires at you, crossing his arms over his chest. A draft blows through the room, as if to echo his point.
"At least I'll fit on the floor," you counter, mimicking his crossed arms. He stares you down, biting his lip as you stare him down right back.
"Fine," he says shortly, "we'll share. Pillow wall work for you?" You nod, moving to arrange the pillows down the bed, trying to quell the excitement brewing in your stomach. You are colleges. This is strictly professional.
You can't help but let your eyes catch on him as he strips his vest and gear, until he's left in thermal underclothes and his balaclava, fingers hesitating at the hem.
"I won't look. If you want to take it off," you offer. He snorts, toying with the fabric.
"Wouldn't work. Besides, you've seen me before. After the grenade," he reminds you, wincing as he pulls his mask off.
He's just as beautiful as you remembered, all soft hazel eyes and sharp, angular cheekbones. His buzzcut has grown out since the last time you saw him, just on the verge of being unkempt. You're staring, and he knows you're staring, but he lets you, throwing his head back with a groan. His neck arches beautifully, and you want to cover it with marks.
You're quick to shed your own gear, trying to look anywhere but his face, but you feel his eyes linger on the arc of your shoulders, the hollow of your neck, the curve of your hips. You climb under the thin blankets, curling as far away from Ghost's side as he turns the lights out.
The bed squeaks as he lays down, adjusting the pillows. He's so big he takes up all of his side and almost part of yours. He moves his legs and they brush against your knee.
"Sorry," he mutters, pulling his calf away like it had been burned. Sparks tingle up your legs.
"'S fine, Ghost," you murmur back. The bed squeaks again as he rolls over to face you, head on the pillow just inches from yours. You want to kiss him. He's so close.
"Do you remember what I told you? After the grenade?" he asks. You nod, but stay quiet as he sighs softly. His hand twitches, like he wanted to reach out for you but stopped himself.
"When it's like this," he breathes, his voice sweet, "when it's just you and me, it's Simon. Call me Simon." He's so soft, in a way you've never seen him before, and you nod, moving ever so close to him.
"Alright," you breathe, "goodnight, Simon."
"G'night, sweetheart."
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:⠀ *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆
When you wake, it's freezing. Ghost- Simon- is snoring next to you, heat radiating off of him like a goddamn furnace. You curl your body into itself, but shivers rack your shoulders anyway. You groan in frustration, glaring up at the ceiling.
Simon stirs next to you, rolling over groggily. His arm brushes against yours, and he winces, thumb brushing over the skin.
"You're freezing," he whispers, cupping your hand in both of his. Your arc towards him, relishing in the warmth that emanated from him, and he smiles, soft and sweet.
"I'm fine," you mutter, "go back to sleep." You prop yourself up on one elbow, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"Don't be stupid," Simon breathes, "come here. I've got enough warmth for the both of us."
You shove the pillow wall aside so fast it makes Simon chuckle as pillows hit the floor. He wraps his arms around you, pressing your back to his chest, hitching a leg over your hip. He's so warm, heat surrounding you on every side as he tucks his head into the hollow of your shoulder.
His hands rest on your stomach, thumb rubbing the exposed skin of your stomach where your shirt has slid up. You wrap your arms around his, holding them to your chest. He feels safe.
"Better?" Simon asks, pulling you closer to his chest. You nod, sleep already creeping over you as you feel him smile against your neck. His thumb rubs soothing patterns on your skin as you slowly drift to sleep.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:⠀ *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆
When you wake again, it's still dark. You're facing Simon, clinging to one of his arms with your head buried in his chest. He's rubbing your back, and as you look up at him, his eyes are open.
"What time is it?" you whisper, stretching slightly, wrapping your arms around his neck. He glances down at his watch, toying his bottom lip between his teeth.
"Five thirty-seven," he responds, tucking an unruly strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingers, tracing your cheek and cupping it in his callused hand. Your eyes flick down to his lips and back again.
"Simon-"
"Can I kiss you?" His voice is ragged with desperation, pupils blown wide. With a soft gasp, you nod.
"Please."
He kisses you softly, tenderly. You pull him closer, hands interlocking at the back of his neck, one trailing down to his cheek. He pulls away, resting his forehead against yours as he catches his breath.
"Oh," he breathes, almost against your lips. He pushes himself up against the headboard, a spark growing in his eyes as he pulls you into his lap.
His second kiss is desperate, his teeth sinking into your lower lip, hands tangling in your hair. You arch in his grip as his hands drift to bracket your hips, your body flushing as he pulls you even closer. Your nails dig into his back and he moans against your lips, you crave the feeling of his bare skin against your fingers even though the cold prohibited it.
You gasp softly as Simon slides his thigh between your legs, cheeks flushed as he takes you in between kisses. His hands are greedy, one slipping dangerously low on your hips before slipping past the waistband of your thermal pants.
"Can I?" he asks quietly, looking up at you from where you're perched on his thigh. His pupils are completely blown, hair messy and cheeks flushed. He looks halfway to heaven and all he's done is kiss you.
"Oh, god, please-" you breathe, burying your head in his shoulder as his hands slides down, spreading you open as well as he could before his thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles against it. You cling to his shoulders, teeth biting down on his shoulder to stifle your moans. Simon gasps, hands moving your hips to help you grind against his thigh.
"There you go," he whispers, head thrown back as you rub against him, "there you go, lovie, that's it." You whine, rutting your hips harder at his praise. His free hand dips underneath your shirt, crawling up your ribs.
"Si- si, feels so good," you moan, biting on your lip to try to keep your moans down. Simon cups your breast tenderly, pushing your top up your chest.
"Fuck, you're so gorgeous, angel," Simon swears. His lips trail down your neck, resting just above your nipple. His mouth rests open, tongue heavy on his lower teeth as the question forms on his lips.
"Sweetheart, can I-"
Three knocks echo on the door, and you jump, loosing your balance and almost colliding with the bedpost as you scramble to get off Simon's lap. Simon desperately adjusts his pants, trying to hide his raging hard on as Price swings the door open.
"Ghost, you're needed down in command," he orders, and Simon's head falls backwards imperceptibly as he pushes himself off the bed, pushing his feet into his boots. As he follows Price out the door, he makes eye contact with you, slipping his fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back as he licks your slick off of them. He winks as he walks around the corner, mouthing
this isn't over.
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:⠀ *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆
school is over and my requests deleted themselves somehow so if you've got ideas pls send them
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hhughes · 1 day
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♯ 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐎◞ 𝑴𝑩¹³
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✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⤫ leclerc!sister x mat barzal
✰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⤫ in which the paddock’s favourite sister arrives at the Monaco GP with a new guest
✰ 𝐜𝐰 ⤫ none.
✰ 𝐚/𝐧 ⤫ ngl. . . this is very self indulgent 🤷‍♀️ but I hope you enjoy anyway <3
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f1wags
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f1wags: our favourite girl has returned to the paddock; and this time it’s with a guest! Y/N leclerc shows up to the monaco track with who I presume to be her bf, and sits down for lunch with her brothers. the first time we’ve seen the entire leclerc family together in a while since Y/N has been in New York for work.
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user15: family reunion🥺
user19: my royal family of Monaco fr
user77: I’m so happy to see them all together again. I just know Charles missed her so much🥲
user66: I read an article that said Y/N came straight from the airport so this is the first interaction they’ve had in months!
f1wags: he hugged her for a good ten minutes before he let anyone else get a chance
user51: um- are we gonna skip over the bf part??
user16: how do we know it’s her bf tho…
f1wags: they were very affectionate since the moment they got out of the together. the car that arrived from the airport, so assume he’s american and flew with her. they also kissed and it looked like he was meeting her family (charles, arthur, lozenzo, pascal) I mean we won’t know 100% until she confirms it but it sure looks like they’re together. . .
user77: nooo… my wife is taken 😔
user11: I really wanna know who her bf is tho cause I’m sorry but he’s fineeeee
user62: I expected nothing less from a leclerc sibling. they always bag the prettiest people
lando.jpg
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lando.jpg: boat day with the bestie(s?) 🛥️
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user23: DID HE JUST—
user65: HE DID😭😭
user21: did lando just hard launch Y/N’s relationship?
user57: yep. tagged the guy and everything💀
user66: he’s such a little menace
user22: I’m not complaining I’ve been trying to figure out who it is for days🙏 thank you lando
ynleclerc: oh lando🫤
landonorris: don’t “oh lando” me, you didn’t say it was a secret????
ynleclerc: what do you think the words NOT PUBLIC means??
landonorris: the lad had his hands ALL over you in the paddock, it was gonna be public news by the end of the weekend… at least this way it came from a reliable source🤷‍♂️
user62: don’t let the fact that Y/N is dating some hot hockey player from New York distract you from the fact that the besties are reunited!!! I’ve been missing this duo so much
user90: and they’re causing chaos as usual🥲
ynleclerc
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ynleclerc: since we were little, I’ve always been your biggest supporter and that will never change charlie. watching you achieve a dream you’ve worked your whole life to achieve is something so magical and all I could ever wish for you as a sibling. congratulations C! I love you endlessly❤️💌
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user13: “watching you achieve a dream you’ve worked your whole life to achieve is something so magical and all I could ever wish for you as a sibling” UM— EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO SOB😭😭
charlesleclerc: I couldn’t possibly do any of this without your love and support. my lucky charm, always. je t'aime❤️❤️❤️
ynleclerc: ❤️
user76: he finally did it😭🙏
user66: these are so beautiful… did you take them?? @.ynleclerc
ynleclerc: I did! I’ve never been so grateful that I carry my camera with me EVERYWHERE. I feel so honoured that I got to capture this entire weekend. I’ll cherish it forever😚
matbarzal
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matbarzal: starting the off-season right ❤️
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noahdobson: just casually posts a picture with charles leclerc and lando norris 🧍‍♂️
matbarzal: I’ll still remember you when I’m famous😘
user72: what. the. fuck.
user77: all of us rn cause this is the wildest crossover I could ever imagine between F1 and hockey😭
user11: they’re both so hot it’s kind of unfair
ynleclerc: ❤️
matbarzal: je t'aime❤️
user55: I wonder if she made fun of Mat’s awful canadian french 😭😭
mattymarts: you expect us to believe you did laundry? I don’t think you even know how
charlesleclerc: I won. guess you’re gonna have to come to every race now 🤷‍♂️
matbarzal: should’ve never told you about superstitions 😔you don’t need them, that win was all you bro😉
charlesleclerc: miss you guys already. gonna have to come to a hockey game next season
matbarzal: you should! we’d be honoured to have you
user77: did someone say bromance??
user19: someone check on beau
ynleclerc
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ynleclerc: monaco❤️
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matbarzal: red is definitely your colour baby❤️🥵
scuderiaferrari: we agree😌🏎️
charlesleclerc: thanks for coming sis❤️
arthurleclerc: miss you already🥺❤️
sydneymartin: so iconic😍
ynleclerc: says the ms. iconic herself 🥰
user21: UM— Mat looks so good OMFG
user72: she definitely dressed him
user62: YN please keep the Mat content coming🙏
user14: if I was YN leclerc all my life problems would be solved
ynleclerc: If I had your lashes all my problems would be solved. you’re stunning 😚
user16: you know those couples that just make sense? they’re definitely one of those
user88: can’t wait to see her at games and stuff
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rebelspykatie · 2 days
Text
Part 1
Steve kisses him on a Thursday and he takes all the air in the room with him. Eddie doesn’t close his eyes. He’s too shocked to do much of anything, except sit there and let Steve take his face in those big hands and caress a thumb over his cheek while he presses their lips together. Eddie’s pretty sure he doesn’t move at all, glued to his place on the couch, as if time has continued on around him while he’s stuck there.
They’d been passing a joint back and forth, lazily smoking as they watched reruns of some old show that Wayne liked to put on when Eddie was a kid. It’s not soothing now, like it was back then, but is disharmonious in the background, the only sound in the room other than Steve moving against him as Eddie tries to figure out what’s going on.
When Steve finally pulls back, Eddie still doesn’t feel like he’s breathing. He’s able to take in Steve’s expression before his eyes pop open, the pucker of his lips, the shine to them that could possibly be from Eddie’s mouth. He doesn’t know why he didn’t push Steve away, why he didn’t intervene, but instead let Steve have this moment. All while he sat frozen.
The expression shifts once Steve’s eyes open, turning unbearably soft. His smile is sweet and gentle. He’s probably mellowed out from the weed, but his eyes are focused on Eddie. It’s not an expression Eddie’s used to seeing. It’s close to the one he gives the kids when they’re not paying attention, but not quite the same. Steve’s eyes are raking over his face, like he’s trying to memorize the dips and grooves of Eddie’s. He squirms under the scrutiny. 
“Sorry,” Steve finally says, shaking his head a bit, “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.” 
He’s turned bashful now. Another expression Eddie’s not used to seeing. His Steve is a sarcastic little shit. He argues with the kids, pulls Robin into wrestling matches that he always wins until Robin starts biting, and carries a nailed up baseball bat in his trunk. Nothing about his Steve is bashful. Except, apparently it is. And something turns in Eddie’s gut. 
He’s made some fatal mistake. Took a wrong turn somewhere and now the car is crashing out of control and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He put that expression on Steve’s face and he doesn’t know how to take it back. 
“Uh-how long?” Eddie asks. He’s not sure why that’s what he says. Morbid curiosity, maybe. But now he’s desperate to know. 
Steve’s jaw shifts, contemplating. “Not sure I had it figured it out then, but probably since you held that bottle to my throat.” 
That seems preposterous. Completely illogical. They barely even knew each other back then outside of the passing monikers slapped on them from their respective cliques in high school. There’s no way that Steve’s wanted to kiss him for that long. 
“Took me a while to pick up on the clues,” Steve laughs self-deprecatingly, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “I’ve never had to interpret what it means coming from a guy, so I think I deserve a pass on not getting it for so long.” 
He’s smiling at Eddie again. Not quite as bashful, more teasing, like he’s anticipating Eddie teasing back. But Eddie is still stuck on the kiss. His brain hasn’t caught up to the words coming out of Steve’s mouth. He doesn’t know what clues Steve even means. 
“I’m not sure what to say, Steve,” he hesitantly says when the silence has gone on a beat too long. 
“You don’t have to say anything. We could put our mouths to better use, though,” Steve says, leaning in with a devious glint in his eyes that Eddie’s only seen in passing, in the halls of Hawkins High when he tried to ignore Steve pressing Nancy into her locker and kissing the daylights out of her where anyone could see. 
Eddie finally snaps out of his haze and puts a hand on Steve’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. It’s the first time he’s made any move to stop this from barreling out of control. 
“Steve,” Eddie’s voice sounds strained to his own ears, “wait.” 
“Sorry, was that too fast?” Steve scoots back on the couch, putting some distance between them, but not backing entirely out of Eddie’s space. “I should’ve asked if that was okay, shit.” Worry creases his forehead.
“I-” Eddie takes a steadying breath, “I don’t understand why you did it at all.” 
“Why I kissed you?” Steve tilts his head to the side, that curious golden retriever look. “Because I like you.” His brows furrow. “I thought that was obvious.” 
“But you like girls.” It comes out more a statement, than a question. And it makes Steve look even more perplexed, the smile dipping, becoming more muted. “I saw you with Nancy, you weren’t faking that. Unless you have, like, Oscar worthy acting skills, but I don’t think you’re capable of that.” 
“I do like girls, but I also like guys.” Steve shrugs, says it so casually like he has the whole world figured out and he’s unbothered by how insane that tidbit is to just drop on your unsuspecting friend, even after you kiss them. “Robin helped me figure it out. It’s called being bisexual.”
“Yeah, I know what it’s called, Steve.” Eddie huffs, frustrated with the direction of this conversation. They’re clearly not on the same page here and he’s not sure if he should just spit it out. 
“Then what’s the problem?” Steve shrinks back into the couch, tension creeping into his shoulders.
“That you think I’d want to kiss you.” Maybe it’s better to just lay it all out on the table. Set the record straight here. Eddie’s beating around the bush too much. 
“Y-you don’t want to kiss me? But you’ve been flirting with me for months.” 
“I flirt with everyone, it doesn’t mean anything.” 
“Oh.” 
And Eddie watches how quickly the light disappears from Steve’s face. How quickly the smile fades and turns into a twisted frown. Steve pinches his nose and stands up. “I guess we were both wrong, then.”
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suashii · 1 day
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— 𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ノ sfw ノ fluff ノ non-canon compliant ノ farmhand!boothill ノ injuries ノ pet names ( darlin', sweetheart, doll :3 ) ノ mentions of food
so i wrote about horse riding but. . . know very little about horse riding! i did my best to research but there may be some details i got wrong so apologies in advance!
previous part ౨ৎ masterlist ౨ৎ next part
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“that’s it, pretty girl, nice and easy.”
the horse beneath you sighs and you do the same, relaxation and contentment in the breath you let go of. it’s been a while since you’ve gone riding, a few years at least, but being sat on a saddle with reins in your hands feels as natural as it used to when you’d ride nearly every day of the summer. you’re lucky that your favorite mare—clover—is still healthy enough to take out.
you gently squeeze your legs into clover’s sides in a silent signal for her to move from a trot to a canter. the sequence of her hoof beats effortlessly switches from the two-beat gait to one of three beats and her pace quickens. the wind against your face is stronger now but you welcome the sensation, a small smile making its way to your face.
as a kid, riding was fun and exciting more than anything else but as you’ve grown into an adult, the activity has become something more cathartic—a release of sorts. your stress slips away when you’re on the saddle, lost in the summery breeze. you don’t allow a second for the thoughts that constantly nag at you to linger. all of your focus is granted to clover and the field ahead, to how you feel here and now and how you wish you could feel like this all the time.
unfortunately for you, nothing lasts forever.
you hear the dog before you see her, barking discernible in the distance. clover must, too, her ears pointing back to listen more closely to the sound approaching from behind. as the barking grows louder, the horse’s neck tenses, and it only takes a second more for her to decide that the noise is worth investigating. you’re in alert mode now, too—no, it’s probably closer to panic mode. it’s been a while since you’ve had to worry about the horse getting spooked and even then you had your grandpa or parents to rely on to make sure nothing got out of hand.
you don’t have time to even think about what the right thing to do in this situation is before clover spots the dog bounding towards the both of you.
“clove—!” you try to calm her down, to let her know that the dog isn’t a threat that she should be scared of, but it’s far too late. before you can comprehend what’s happening, clover is rearing. the motion combined with your loose hold on the reins is enough to send you flying off the horse’s saddle. a scream is ripped from your throat and you squeeze your eyes shut at being in the air, destined to fall.
you hit the ground with an audible thud.
pain courses through your body—your back, your shoulders, your head. everything hurts and hot tears spring to the corners of your eyes but they pool there, refusing to stream down your cheeks. despite all the pain, the growing soreness, you find your mind wandering. where did clover run off to? what was the dog doing out here alone? she rarely leaves the house by herself. someone is yelling, they’re calling your name. is it boothill?
“shit, little lady,” he shakily breathes, “you okay?”
relief washes over you and for a short second, you think that you’ve never been happier to hear the farmhand’s voice. it’s tinged with concern, a characteristic you have yet to see him display—especially for you. it doesn’t stop in his voice either, you can feel it in how he takes a hold of your shoulders, his grip firm but not tight enough to cause you any unnecessary pain.
you take the risk of finally opening your eyes and instead of being met with the sun’s blinding rays, boothill’s face crowds your vision. his eyebrows are pulled together and for once, there’s no smirk or grin playing at his lips. upon seeing that you’re conscious, the tension in boothill’s forehead lessens. “there she is.”
his voice is soft, like if he speaks too loud he’ll break you. though it’s unlike him to be so mindful, you appreciate what you imagine is the temporary change. he opens his mouth to continue but before he can get another word out, the border collie, missy, nudges between the two of you as if she senses something is wrong. boothill shoos her away before turning his attention back to you. “you okay? what happened?”
you think back on the moments that led to this—you laid out on your back in the grass. “missy… i think she scared clover. she threw me off.”
that’s right, you have no idea where she went after being so startled or if she’s okay, at that.
“where is clover?” you dart up into a sitting position, palms against the grass. it’s a bad idea and you face the consequences of it immediately, head throbbing and the dull pain throughout your limbs becoming all the more noticeable. you suck in a sharp breath in response to the discomfort but realize that the pain you’re in doesn’t top your concern for the horse. “is she still around here? i need to go find her.”
“woah, woah, woah, hold your horses.” boothill frowns. he stands up and holds both of his hands out to help you do the same. for once, you don’t think about the underlying meaning of having your hands touch his, you just grab a hold and let him pull you up. you turn your head in every direction you can in search of clover, readying to pick any of them to start walking in. though, you can’t, not with the way boothill is holding your hands hostage. his gray eyes bore into yours. “you aren’t going anywhere but to the hospital.”
“what? no.” you shake your head and try to pull away but boothill doesn’t budge. the longer he holds onto you, the more aware you become of his touch—how warm his hands are and how, even though they’re rough and calloused, his palms are more comforting than you care to admit. “i don’t need a hospital. i’m fine.”
“listen darlin’, people who have just been thrown off horses ain’t known for their good judgment.” he squeezes your hands but then seems to think better of it, loosening his grip but continuing to hold them. he gets his message across though, with the hand squeeze and the almost desperate look in his eyes. you’ve never seen him so uneasy, heard him speak so seriously. his new demeanor has your feet glued to their spot on the ground and your gaze glued to his. “you’re going to the hospital.”
you’re rarely one to jump at the opportunity to agree with boothill but maybe he’s right. you’re running on adrenaline right now and your mind isn’t in the best place—you’re worried about the wrong things. and if the topic is important enough to have boothill practically pleading with you, you should take it just as seriously as he is.
“fine, i’ll go, but you need to find clover before we do.” that came off a little more demanding than you meant it to. you add, “please.”
he clicks his tongue and groans before telling you, “alright, i’ll find your damn horse.”
● ● ●
boothill is a man of his word and tracks down clover, putting her back in the stable before whisking you away to the hospital. the ride there feels like a visit to the doctor itself with the way the farmhand practically interrogates you about your symptoms. he’s concerned but can’t help but laugh when you tell him that he’s exacerbating any head trauma you may have sustained by making you think so hard.
despite your initial resistance to boothill’s insistence on going to the hospital, you’re thankful for his urging. turns out he was right to be worried—you got a concussion.
your helmet helped soften the blow but the physician who explained your diagnosis still recommended a few days off work to rest and recover. it’s not the best news to receive but considering things could have been much worse, you’re grateful to walk away with a relatively minor injury.
and if your doctor had any anxiety about you ignoring his advice, it was misplaced. because boothill has personally made it his responsibility to be sure you get better.
as soon as the two of you arrived back at the house, he steered you into the living room, sat you on the couch, and disappeared into the kitchen with a demand for you to stay put. you’re tempted to argue but your head hurts too much so you cross your arms instead, closing your eyes and resting your head on the couch cushion.
it doesn’t take long for him to return and his hands are full when he does—a glass of water in one, an orange precariously rolling on a plate in the other, and a bottle of pain medication tucked under one of his arms. he sets the drink and pills on the coffee table before plopping down on the couch beside you, the dip in the cushion enough to make you open your eyes.
upon grabbing your attention, boothill jerks his head in that direction. “take a couple of those.”
you sit up and unscrew the bottle, shaking out two of the pills and popping them in your mouth before taking a few sips of the water he grabbed for you. a beat of silence passes before you speak up. “you know, i could have done all this myself.”
“i’m sure you could have,” he tells you with a grin, hands busy peeling the skin from the orange. it’s still all in one piece. impressive, you think, but you aren’t surprised. it seems like boothill is good at everything he does. “just thought you might enjoy having me at your beck and call.”
you frown. what does he think you are? some princess who needs a servant? “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“nothin’, darlin’.” he slides the plate of peeled orange slices across the coffee table so you can eat them when you’re ready. he wipes his hands on his jeans before standing up and stuffing them in his pockets.
the farmhand is on his way to the door when he says, “i’m off, but holler for me if you need anything, sweetheart.” 
you never thought you’d see the day you would stop boothill from leaving.
“wait, before you go…” he stops and turns around, eyebrows slightly raised in silent question, urging you to go on. you had more courage to say what was on your mind when he wasn’t looking at you. though, you know it’s only right to let him know that you appreciate all he’s done for you today. so, you turn your gaze to the floor and let it spill out. “thank you for finding clover. and for taking me to the hospital. and for this.” you gesture to the fruit.
there’s a flash of sincerity that passes over his features before that annoying smile makes its way back to his lips. “so you can say thank you.”
you don’t know what kind of response you were expecting, but you should have seen this coming. it’s like he’s hardwired to tease you, even when you’re being genuine. “you can leave now, boothill.”
“yeah, yeah, i’ll get out of your hair.” in contradiction to his words, he stays put. and you can’t find it in you to be upset that he does because the humor has left his face, replaced by earnestness. “but you’re welcome, doll. it was really no trouble.”
he finally takes his leave and when you hear the door close, you let out a frustrated groan and lay your head back on the cushion. that nasty fall must have done more damage than you thought. why else would your heart be working overtime over a simple change of expression?
you shake your head to get rid of the unwelcome thoughts—thoughts of how generous and caring he actually might be—before you think better of the motion. it hurts your head and makes you wonder how long it’ll take before the pain pills kick in. they’ll probably work better if you have something on your stomach.
your eyes fall to the plate boothill left for you.
orange slices should do.
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thank u for giving this a read! reblogs and comments are appreciated -`♡´-
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deebris · 1 day
Text
The Mysterious Visitor II
Batfamily x batsis (platonic!)
Synopsis: The unknown child evokes conflicting feelings in Bruce Wayne, who once again finds himself needing to deal with Talia's life problems. The girl only wanted the simple desire to see her brother again, unaware of the danger she had put herself into on her journey.
Warnings: The reader is 13 years old and is Damian's twin sister; the tone of the story is somewhat sad; Bruce is intimidating; Hugo Strange mentioned; this will have a third, and hopefully final, part.
Word count: 2.8k
Note: I feel like maybe I could have developed a more emotional scene between Bruce and the reader, I also want to delve deeper into her thought process, but I hope to make up for that in the next part. I like it when you guys tell me what you want to happen next, it gives me ideas. Please, go ahead and do that. That was my first time making a tag list, so I apologize if I didn't do it correctly.
Part I
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Alfred could finally check the exact time now that he was standing in front of Bruce's room, admiring for a few seconds the clock in the corridor's decoration, which showed 4:17 am. He prepared to knock on the door, but suddenly a thought crossed his mind: would it be more rational to wake Damian instead of his father? Throughout his life, he had faced unusual situations thanks to the Wayne family; hardly anything would shake him now. His concern, however, was not for himself, but for Bruce.
Talia was a persistent shadow in Bruce's past, still haunting him, and although he had tried to convince the butler many times that the only link he had with her now was because of their son, Alfred still doubted it. Their relationship had been complicated in many ways, either because of her ambiguous nature or Ra’s al Ghul's insistence on trying to persuade Bruce to join the League of Assassins, making Alfred fear that Bruce's morals might deviate because of this passion at the time.
Alfred raised his fist to knock three times and waited patiently as was his custom, but it seemed that was not enough to wake his master. He knew the door was open and knew he was allowed to enter without knocking, so just this once he used the liberty the young man had given him over the years; because in the end, Bruce Wayne was just that, a young man, and would always be seen that way by him.
Inside the room, he turned on the light, and the intense glare made him close his eyes to avoid the sting of the brightness. Approaching the bed, he sighed at the sight of Zolpidem pills left on the nightstand. This had been the only way Bruce found to stop spending sleepless nights, reluctantly since he was too stubborn and preferred to patrol in the darkness. Waking him would be a difficult task.
"Master Bruce," he called, waiting for a response, but got nothing. Alfred felt sorry for waking him, seeing how he finally seemed to be resting. "Master Bruce," he called again, this time nudging his shoulder. The pills must have been wearing off because he started to stir on the mattress.
"What’s going on, Alfred?" Bruce asked in a hoarse voice while rubbing his eyes to relieve the discomfort from the lamp. He sat up in bed, leaning his back against the headboard, blinking several times to see the butler in the corner. One of the room's curtains was open, and he saw the snow falling outside with the dark sky, showing that it was still night. "Is it Hugo Strange? Has he shown up somewhere?"
"Unfortunately, or fortunately, no, sir." Alfred paused, then licked his lips, preparing to continue and finally revealing, "There's a young lady downstairs who claims to be Master Damian’s sister." Direct, as always.
"Sister of Damian?" Bruce repeated the information, still not fully comprehending its meaning. He needed some time, just standing there absorbing the words. It seemed to be taking an eternity, but Alfred wouldn't interrupt the moment of clarity he was having.
He squinted, pushed the covers aside, and picked up the shirt he found nearby. Buttoning it up and getting out of bed, he continued, "When did this happen?"
"Just now, sir."
"Did Damian bring her here?" The question had a bitter tone but never crossed the line of respect that was drawn between them, and Alfred knew he should prepare for his interrogation. Bruce saw the alarm clock and, like the butler a few minutes ago, checked the time. "He never mentioned anything like this."
"Nor to me." Alfred suddenly extended a coat for him to take. Bruce held the fabric between his fingers, confused. "This coat is hers. There’s a map of Gotham City and a letter inside. I recommend you take a look at the addressee."
Pulling the papers from the right pocket, Bruce noticed a map folded into many smaller parts and a letter witch was still sealed, though the corners were noticeably crumpled and marked by small fingers. Carefully analyzing the cursive handwriting, he read. "I had no idea Damian still had contact with his mother. Much less that Talia had a daughter," he said, still drowsy, staring at the name 'Talia Head,' to whom the letter was addressed and recognizing his son’s elegant handwriting. Apparently, she still used the alias surname.
"It's not surprising considering you only discovered your son after so many years." The statement could have easily been interpreted as irony, but it was acidic. "She didn’t seem sure Damian lived here; I suppose she found out because of this letter."
"You left her alone downstairs?" he ignored the previous comment.
"I left her in Master Dick's care."
Bruce stared at him for long seconds and hurried out of the room. Halfway down the stairs, he could already see some glimpses of Dick's hair over the back of the sofa, talking to someone, or rather, laughing with someone.
"Dick?" The voice quickly caught his attention, turning his face to see his father approaching. When Bruce stood in front of the fireplace, he could finally look at the child beside the boy. Dick began to say something, but Bruce couldn’t hear. 
He stared at the girl, analyzing everything about her, from the way she intertwined her fingers nervously to her deer-like eyes. Her iris were shining, as if she had cried, and her swollen and bruised lips were quite noticeable. She had definitely been outside not long ago, shaking and rubbing her hands together constantly to warm herself up. She seemed too sweet, but Bruce knows that appearances can be deceiving.
His gaze passed over the pendants hanging from her bracelet, a simple detail that caught him off guard. Two crossed swords and a demonic head, he understood well what they meant; they were some of the symbols of the League of Assassins, the third was a simple "T" surrounded by a moon. He shouldn’t have been surprised, Talia was a possessive woman and he knew that the "T" was her way of marking property.
"Her name is Y/n," he heard Dick say after a long time.
You noticed how this man's eyes went dark while he watched you and couldn’t help but shrink back on the sofa. It was impossible to hold his gaze, and you began to feel ashamed of being stared at for so long.
"Y/n, this is Bruce Wayne."
"What do you want?" That came out ruder than he intended, but his aversion to the League of Assassins stirred a certain anger. The idea that this could all be a trap crossed his mind. You might be young and exude innocence, but you must have enough understanding to participate in their malicious plans.
"I just wanted to see my brother," you said with sadness in your voice, questioning yourself if this whole situation was worth it. Bruce knew the best way to confirm if this was all true would be by his son’s word, but the signs were so explicit that it might not even be necessary.
You don’t look anything like her, at least at first glance, but you wore her favorite colors and clothes so perfectly matched that no girl your age could choose yet, exactly to Talia's taste and with the appropriate youthful touch for your age. The pendants, the cut of your hair, literally everything had her touch. It was impossible for anyone to convince him otherwise.
"Go get Damian." He said, and Dick understood that the message was for him. Bruce needed to make sure you were telling the truth, or at least needed to make sure you weren’t dangerous. This could still be a League scheme or some plot by your mother.
"Can I see him?" Your voice was the loudest you had spoken that night. The excitement was clear, and it was so much that irrationally you stood up to follow Dick, but a calloused hand suddenly wrapped around your torso and stopped you, making your back hit a slightly prominent belly. You looked up and saw the old man again, his expression was not happy, and you realized it was directed at Mr. Wayne, who had an arm extended towards you but that never managed to touch you.
Like his face, his arm was tense, with visible veins and contracted tendons. You didn't know what his intentions were, but by the way the old man grabbed you to prevent him from laying hands on you, maybe he wasn't as good as he or Dick. It was a very scary sight., making you feel that this man could be dangerous. Trusting the old man, you turned to hug him, hiding as much as possible. Mr. Wayne’s aura was dark, very unfriendly, but you still saw how he recoiled with his face displaying a certain sense of regret.
Dick noticed Alfred's sudden movement behind him before he could leave the room. He glanced at their faces and for a moment considered whether it would be appropriate to turn back and mention the conversation he had with you to the butler in secret, but then his eyebrows furrowed thinking of Damian. Maybe he should confront the little demon first.
"Don’t do anything stupid, Bruce." Dick thought.
Frantically he knocked on the boy’s door. One, two, three, four times until he lost count. At no point did he hear any noise inside, so he began to turn the doorknob, only to find it was locked.
"Of course he’d lock it, that brat..."
"What are you doing?" Suddenly Tim's bedroom door behind him opened abruptly, making a sliver of light from inside illuminate the opposite wall. He was obviously irritated at being woken up but still had that tone of seriousness he carried most of the time.
"Where's his room key?" Dick completely ignored his brother's attitude.
"Forget it. I heard him sneak out to patrol again." Tim's voice sounded tired.
"And you let him?!" Dick snapped but reminded himself to contain it, remembering that Jason was sleeping in one of the rooms in that wing and that you three downstairs might hear the commotion. "Why didn’t you stop him?"
"And what good would it do? That boy is too stubborn." Tim tried to defend himself. "Besides, I have his location right here. He’ll be fine." He opened the door a bit more to show one of his computer monitors tracking the trajectory and heart signals of a green dot on the streets of Gotham City.
Dick looked both ways down the hallway before pushing Tim back into his room and closing the door.
"Hey, what's this? Why are you acting so weird?" Tim was startled by Dick's unusual behavior, feeling anxious as he watched him go to the computer to check Damian's exact location, observing the dot on the screen moving. Dick pressed a button, likely an emergency notification to get Damian to return home. Then he turned to Tim, gripping his shoulders and looking at him with intense seriousness.
"Tim, what I'm about to tell you might be a lot to take in, and I need you to try to understand as much as possible." Dick pointed a finger in his face, waiting for confirmation.
"You're scaring me like this. What the hell happened?"
"No questions and no interruptions! Understood?" Dick's tone was authoritative, stepping back only when he saw Tim nodding affirmatively.
"Why the hell is everyone awake downstairs? Did someone die or something?" Jason barged into Tim's room without ceremony, trying to make a joke, but when he saw the ghostly expressions on their faces, he quickly shut the door again, this time with him inside the room. "My God," he exclaimed in shock. "Can I join in on your little secret?" he asked ironically.
"Did you see the girl?" Dick asked Jason nervously, with a certain expectation.
"Yeah. I saw a girl with Bruce and Alfred. But they didn't see me, since I went back upstairs. The mood down there is pretty tense." Jason threw himself on the bed, making the mattress bounce and Tim frown in displeasure. "I think Alfred is going to give him a lecture afterwards."
"She's Bruce's daughter."
Jason propped himself up on his elbows, and Tim had to sit in the computer chair. His mouth formed a perfect 'O' as he struggled to believe Dick's words.
"With who this time?" Jason seemed to be reacting better than Tim to the news, even letting out a light laugh. It was a typical, caustic Jason response.
"That's not all." Dick ignored his comment. "She said she's Damian's twin."
Tim let out a short whistle, processing the idea like a complex calculation. "Tell this story from the beginning, Dick. Why did she show up now?" He finally managed to rejoin the conversation. It took a while for the shock to pass, but now he had his usual rational demeanor.
Dick rubbed his hands over his face, trying to recount the night and organize the information. "Apparently, she doesn't even know Bruce is her father. And he doesn't know about it either."
"Damian also never mentioned having a sister."
"Damn. Hiding one kid for a decade is something, but two?" Jason stared at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, a strange sensation taking over the room. But seeing the melancholic expression on Dick's face, his curiosity grew even more. "What else do you know, huh Dick?" He questioned him, sensing there was something much deeper behind this, and his brother just gave him an enigmatic look.
"She said she came here to see Damian. That she found out where he was because of a letter he wrote to Talia..." Dick suddenly froze, pulling a little box from his pocket as if it were a dangerous bomb. "While we were talking, she said a man had helped her get here. He gave her a map and asked her to deliver a present to Bruce, but she gave it to me to deliver." He handed the beige little box to the two, but it was Tim who took it.
Whatever it was, it was very well wrapped.
"Is it right to open it?" Tim asked. "I mean, it's for Bruce, isn't it?"
"I already opened it." Dick said bluntly. "I thought it might be a trap, I was careful."
"Give it here." Jason took the small box from Tim's hands. It was the same size as an engagement ring box, perfect for carrying in a pocket. He pulled the lid off and took out a card, freezing when he read it.
"What does it say?" Tim was curious, taking the card from his hands and reading it out loud:
'I sent your daughter home as a demonstration of my benevolence. Merry Christmas, Batman. Signed, H.S.’
"Holy shit," Jason exclaimed, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "That bastard figured out Batman's identity."
"Even worse: he knew about her before we did." Tim added reflectively, his voice barely a whisper. "That means he knows much more than just Batman's identity. He might know other things, including our identities. He probably suspects we are also vigilantes."
"I want to hear the whole story properly." Jason's intensely serious voice broke the silence that had settled in the room, determined to fully understand the appearance of this girl and how she got involved with Hugo Strange.
Dick took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts before speaking. "Alright, here it is. Minutes ago, Alfred and I woke up because a girl showed up at the manor claiming to be Damian's sister. She told me that she had a map of Gotham and a letter addressed to Talia from Damian. Alfred brought Bruce to her, and then I went upstairs to call Damian, but I discovered that he's out on patrol. And now we're here."
Tim interrupted, "Wait, so Damian's been in contact with Talia and didn't tell us?"
"That's what it seems like," Dick confirmed, rubbing his temples. "The girl didn't even know Bruce was her father. She mentioned that a man helped her get here and gave her a map along with a present for Bruce."
Jason leaned forward even more. "And this man was Hugo Strange."
"Not xactly, he could have sent someone else." Dick nodded. "The present was that card. Strange knows about her and about Bruce being Batman. He sent her here as some twisted gift."
Tim, processing the information, asked, "Did she say anything about why Strange would do this? What does he gain from sending her here?"
"She didn't seem to know much about Strange's intentions," Dick replied. "She just wanted to see Damian. But it’s clear that Strange knows a lot more than he's letting on. He must have some larger plan in mind."
Jason clenched his fists, his anger palpable. "So, this girl is just a pawn in his game. We need to figure out what his endgame is."
"Agreed," Dick said. "But first, we need to make sure she's safe and find out everything she knows. We also need to talk to Damian and see what tell us about all this."
Tim nodded, adding, "And we have to stay vigilant. If Strange knows this much, we can't underestimate him. He could have more moves planned."
Jason stood up, his determination evident. "We need to get to the bottom of this before anyone gets hurt."
"But what about Talia? Did she just let her daughter go out there, be deceived by a stranger, and then simply come here?" Tim pointed out. "And you, Dick? Are you going to tell Bruce?"
Suddenly, the sound of someone tapping on the window glass was heard. The three brothers turned their heads to see Damian, clad in his Robin attire, asking to come in. "Open up already, you idiots."
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uranometrias · 2 days
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goodbye love, you flew right by , spencer reid
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this was inspired by the season fourteen episode 'truth or dare'... it's my take on the jeid confession aftermath. listen to ceilings while you read, but don't think too deeply into it, because the story has a happy ending... this is only part 1 though, and it ends on a awkward/angsty note, so sorry. reader passes out from a head blow.
i wanted it to be short, but i have no self control.
you tried to keep your mind on your training, you didn't really have time to panic, you needed to stay calm. you focused all your energy on your breathing, willed your fear away with thoughts of better things. you didn't even want to focus on the fact that spencer was across from you, hands pinned behind his back as he stared up at the manic man that was currently holding you, your boyfriend, and your closest work friend hostage. you believed in your team, and what you were capable of, you knew without a doubt you'd make it out alive.
"casey..." spencer speaks, his voice has matured over the years, rightfully. he sounds so official, and you find yourself sitting a touch straighter at the sharpness behind his words. jj was standing up, eyes glued directly on your captor, her face was pinched up with the proof of her worry. she catches your eye, and looks forlorn, you only hope that she sees the resilience resting in your own eyes, as you try and offer a semblance of hope through your own gaze.
"shut up!" he shouts, and his gun is aimed at spencer. he spits the words out, quickly stomping towards jj as he forced her to the floor.
"okay, okay!" she exclaims, and it's clear that he's hurting her. his patience has run thin, and jj's plan of getting through to him by playing along with his sick 'truth or dare' game was proving to be all for not. your foot unconsciously begins to tap, likely a nervous habit that you have no time to unpack. you're still too busy trying to appear unbothered, it always seemed to tick the unsubs off when it seemed like their bravado meant nothing. that's what you needed. you couldn't afford to let him think that he scared you.
"last chance." and his gun's trained directly at jj's head. "something you'd never say aloud, not even to your friends here." and casey's whirling around to point the gun in your direction, you think it might have been a mistake for him to turn around. when he sees your foot tapping his face contorts, he's annoyed with you, angry with you. your arms are uncomfortable from the way they were taped together behind your back, and the foot tapping has become involuntary.
his reaction is almost instantaneous, and you think you understand why the team's always telling you not to get so lost in your own mind.
casey's grabbing you by your arm and it hurts, especially as his nails manage to pierce through the skin. he seems to be doing it on purpose, yanking you up to your feet as jj and spencer both surge into action. "wait, wait, please-" jj's leaning forward, eyes wide and full of fear for the first time since this whole ordeal began. spencer's scared too, but he hides it much better you think.
"please, don't hurt her." he begs, and you find it a bit annoying that he's brought them to the point of begging, of using manners to appeal to his ego. casey's eyes jump from spencer to jj, and then to you, and he's sneering. he whirls you around, arm looping around your neck as he presses the barrel of his gun directly to your temple. you sing along to your favorite song in your head, using it as a way to stay grounded, it likely made you look like a mad man.
you supposed that it was your superpower, your ability to look death in the eye, and not flinch. the team often mentioned they weren't sure if you or emily was more stone-faced in a crises situation. "oh, you don't want me to hurt her?" he mocks, and you don't look at spencer, no, you keep your eyes on jj, because she's the one that has to play the game. if you didn't know spencer so well, you never would have noticed the slight movement of his arms, he was up to something.
he was fine.
jj was the one in the hot seat, and she needed you to be calm. freaking out would only make her all the more anxious. so you offer her a stern look, a look that expressed that you all would be okay. she doesn't look convinced. "i want your deepest, darkest secret." he insturcts, "impress me, or i'll kill her." and he slams the gun deep into your temple, the action dizzying as you try and maintain your balance. you feel pain blooming behind your eyes. "and then i'll kill him." he nods his head towards spencer, and jj's on the verge of tears.
you have no choice but to watch her, he's given you a first-class seat to the action. jj's eyes don't land on you though, instead she's looking over to spencer. he looks back at her, face pensive, but otherwise calm. she shudders for just a moment, and it looks like she's trying to work up the courage. "come on!" casey suddenly screams directly in your ear, and you flinch violently. it garners both jj and spencer's attention. casey tightens his hold on you, gun at the ready. "do you think this is a joke? do you think i won't blow this bitch's brains out?"
you're not too fond of being called a bitch, and the drama of it all, takes you out of the moment a bit. why were all unsubs so cliche?
jj takes in another shuddered breath, this one bordering on a sob as she takes in a puff of air. it takes her a moment to get her bearings, but then she's looking at spencer again. she offers him a weak smile, and you get a tingle up your spine, it feels like a warning for disaster. "spence..." she says his name weakly, voice harsh as she croaks. he's looking away from you finally, meeting the gaze of his best friend. "uh..." she inhales sharply. "um..." she looks at you then, and you're eyes are wide, confusion swirling there and she's exhaling.
there's a heaviness, a guilt that stares back at you, and you find yourself scared for the first time, but not of casey. no, you're scared of your friend. "i'm sorry." she mouths to you, and you watch as she looks back at your boyfriend, the clear love of your life. you feel dread then, because you know jj, you know her too well, and you know what's coming. why else would she be so worried, why else would she be looking at you with so much shame in her eyes. "i've-" she stops.
spencer's none the wiser, he wouldn't get it until she said it in full. so while you spiraled into despair, he sat patiently, doe-eyes wide and full of whatever innocence he still had left. you wish you could go back to before, you wish you hadn't been assigned to go with jj and spencer, if you were with the team you'd be none the wiser. you wouldn't feel so heartbroken, displaced, uncertain. but you're here now, and all you have to do is wait for the other shoe to drop. jj inhales, and you wish she would get it out. "i've always loved you."
and there it is.
you'd come to recognize the signs and signals of tears, it always started with your eyes burning like you'd been sitting in smoke. your nose stings next, and you bare down harshly on your tongue to keep them from falling. "and i was just too scared to say it before." it's a gut-punch, it would have likely knocked you on your ass had casey not been forcing you to take it all in. "and now things are just really too complicated to say it now." and she's crying, and that's how you know that she means it. that only makes you feel much worse.
jj, for all intents and purposes was a great actress, she could make any story believable, but she'd never been a good 'fake crier'. she could hide every single one of her tells when she spoke, but emotions were harder to manage. you remembered how she'd told you that one day while the two of you were hanging out. you don't know what brought you there, but she'd made it clear, that tears for her were hard to fake. which left you with what? a best friend that was in love with your boyfriend?
"i'm sorry, but you should know." and you'd hoped she'd at least have the decency to look at you. she doesn't. instead, she's still looking at spencer, and you feel like you're intruding. more than that you feel so stupid. spencer's got this look on his face, this shock and awe and confusion that makes you want to vomit, it makes you want to throw yourself to the ground and throw a tantrum. you want to open your mouth and scream, remind them that 'hey, you're here too'... remind them that you were apart of this, that this was a very very bad thing.
hope was not the sort of look he should be wearing, it's not how he should be responding. you don't know what you'd expected, but certainly not for him to look so relieved, not while you were sitting right there in front of him with a gun to your head. he gives her a half smile though, and you crumble. casey's suddenly chuckling, shoulders rocking as they're pulled out of their little moment. "hot damn!" and he's releasing the gun from your temple, holding it like a little prop, as he forced you back to the ground.
you don't resist, your knees slamming into the floor as you conceal your wince, conceal everything.
"now that's what i'm talking about." casey mutters excitedly. "now those are some last words right there..." he nods his head. he then looms over her, gun pointed directly in her face. "but not good enough to save your life-" before he can hope to pull the trigger, spencer has shot him. the shot echoes all around you, but it doesn't seem to pull you from your muffled mind. casey falls to the floor, jj jumping as he lands down next to her. she shudders violently.
then she's looking back at him, at spence. your spence.
you don't like how it makes you feel, that they've conjured this small habit of getting lost in one another. you clear your throat, and they're finally, finally looking at you. jj looks mortified, but you can't read spencer at all. he doesn't look at jj again, doesn't say a word, instead he's looking at you. you should feel something other than rejection, but you don't. not even when his eyes seem to brim with all those feelings that you know he has for you, because now it feels fake.
he's quick in the way he rushes towards you, kneeling as he inspects you like porcelain. his dominant hand moves to gently brush over where you'd been hit with the gun. you don't want him to touch you though, so you pull back, it's more like a hard jerk, like you were frightened of his touch. you try to play it off, pretend it never happened, but you know that he knows. it felt like the beginning of the end, like the prerequisite to something god-awful.
he looks so upset, hurt by the action, but you think out of the two of you, you're the one who's really hurt. "can you just get me out of these, please?" you don't sound like yourself either, instead you sound hollow, like a grieving woman. you probably are, grieving that is. spencer gives you a worn down nod, but maneuvers until he's behind you. he gently tugs at the tape, but it still hurts as it strips at your skin. you bare your teeth, but don't say anything, head hanging low, until he was done. he offers you his hand, you ignore it.
"y/n." jj calls, and she sounds so distraught. you ignore her too, you don't know what other choices you have. the room's not big enough to hide in, so instead you find yourself rushing over to melissa. you think it's silly, to leave the two of them alone while so much hung in the air, but it was better that way. "melissa." you say her name quietly, kneeling in front of her, despite how shabby they felt. "i need you to hang on, okay?" you exhale shakily.
"help will be here before you know it." you promise, and you're pressing on her wound, blood smearing your hands and your fingertips as she winced painfully. you don't hear anything from jj and spencer, but it doesn't make it better. clearly a glance was all it took for the two of them now. you hate the way this has thrown you, you don't exactly know why you're so fearful. jj was married, she had two sons she adored, and a marriage she was happy in. so why did it feel like the confession was the start of something bad.
were you so insecure that you felt like you didn't stand a chance?
you don't want to think about that, it might actually be enough to make you upchuck. instead, your masochistic mind has you chancing a glance back to where it all went down. you see that spencer has taken the tape off her hands. she's looking up at him, and he's staring down at her. you think that you hate them then. the door bursts open a second later, and you're glad. soon enough a medic would come to see to the wounded, and you could get the hell out of dodge.
"we're going to need an EMT, we've got three down." you exclaim. the room immediately jumps into action. you hear the incessant thrum of conversation as everyone jumped into action, and you're more than grateful when you feel someone looming. your mistake was believing it would be a medic, your face falls flat when you're met with the sight of jj. she had always had a bad habit of trying to force the hard conversations. today though, you were determined to stand your petty ground. you avert your gaze, attention back on melissa.
"y/n, please don't do this." she says this quietly, and you hear the genuine anguish in her voice. it doesn't sway you, it can't possibly.
"it's already done." you quip, and you're grateful to have slowed the bleeding of melissa's wound, as a medic takes your place, finally. you stand to your feet, bloodstained hands itching to smear against your jeans, but you refrain. you ignore rossi and tara's questions, not really in the mood to answer different variations of the 'are you alright?' game. you needed air. silly you to think it'd be over just because you'd willed it to be. just as you're stepping outside, you feel a warm hand encompassing your wrist. you don't want to stop, but it's habitual.
"let me go, spencer." you try quietly. you don't want to be that girl, the one that lashes out, and causes a scene. diplomacy was the name of the game. your eyes are glued to the ground, you didn't want to picture him with that stupid hopeful look on his face anymore. you knew that night when you closed your eyes you'd see it over and over. it would taunt you, play on an endless loop while you tore yourself to shreds. what was it about her? why was this happening to you?
"i can't." he replies, and you wish he'd spoken to you earlier. you wish that he had communicated with his mouth, rather than with his eyes. maybe you wouldn't be so far gone. it didn't have to be a big deal, because at least you would have known that it didn't matter. that her confession hadn't changed anything, but he'd stayed silent, and he'd looked at her in a way he'd never looked at you before. you knew there was history, you'd heard whispers from derek and penelope about a football game from years and years ago.
you had never expected for it to matter now.
"you can, you're just choosing to hold me hostage." you mumble, and despite your anger, you can't lash out. you can't be irrational.
"i'm not going to let you leave angry with me." and you hate how he knows you so well. you think it's something you'll miss. "i want us to talk about it, i think that we need to." he says in that voice he often used when he was trying to gently guide you towards the right choice. you don't want to be policed or treated like you were the one that had messed things up. all he'd needed to do was shut it down, all you'd wanted him to do was not look so happy, like it was something he'd spent his entire life waiting for.
"what's there to talk about, spencer? it's happened, okay? let's just move on, before this turns into something it doesn't need to." you shoot back, and he's not convinced, nor is he willing to budge.
"you're treating me like some stranger, as if i don't know you well enough to see when you're lying to me." he's gaining that disappointed lilt to his voice, and you think long gone are all your chances of getting out of this place without it turning into a full blown soap opera meltdown. "we're not going to get anywhere if you can't be truthful with me." he adds, and you don't want a lecture, because you'd done nothing wrong. you were the one casey had held, you were the one that had a gun pressed to your temple.
you weren't the one that made the life changing confession.
"i'm asking you to drop this." you say sharply, and you're hoping to snatch your arm away from spencer. he doesn't let you, and on any other occasion you'd feel so protected, so wanted. now though, you feel claustrophobic, trapped, you didn't feel safe. "i understand that you're trying to preserve our relationship, and i wish i could tell you that this doesn't change anything..." his face morphs, eyes screaming at you not to proceed. "but i just need a second to wrap my head around all this, okay? can you give me that? space?"
to him space always felt like the beginning of the end. he thinks that's why he's determined not to let you go. "will you come back? if i let you go?" and he's already dropped you wrist, so you know that he's not really talking about right now. he sounds uncertain, scared, and it does remind you that there was love he felt towards you. the fear wraps around you, and you're not sure how it really makes you feel. you exhale shakily, and you don't want to give him the wrong answer.
"agent l/n." you're both being pulled back to reality, back to what was going on around you. you note the bleeding gash in his hand, likely from the shard he'd used to free himself from the tape and you sigh.
"i don't know, spence." and it's true. "i'm just a little bit confused right now." you admit. "and my feelings are hurt," you shake your head rapidly. spencer doesn't know how to express the way his mind is running. all he knew was that jj's confession would not be enough to make him want to throw away his time with you. he wanted you to know that you weren't a consolation prize, but he didn't know how to say it now without seeming ingenuine. he knew how it looked, he knew how he'd feel if he was in your shoes.
but, he wasn't in love with jj. he remembered a version of himself that tripped over himself at her gaze, the version that stayed up late at night replaying conversations in his head. a part of that guy would always exist, he couldn't lie and say it didn't. he loved her so wholeheartedly that sometimes it still managed to scare him, but she was an illusion, a fantasy. realistically he doubted they'd make sense in a romantic sort of sense, it was only something to think about... not something to uproot lives behind.
more than that though, he'd never felt for jj the way he felt for you. he remembered the first time you'd waltzed into the bullpen. you'd knocked him right on his ass, took every thought in his head, and made it your very own. you consumed his time, and he was willing to let you. he wanted you to be the only thing that could quiet his running mind, he wanted you to be the only person that could help him sleep. he didn't want to give this anymore attention than it needed, because he was set in his heart. it wasn't a question.
he didn't know why he couldn't just say that. why everything felt so lopsided and off focus now. his lips curve down into a deep pout.
"my head hurts." you mumble, your bottom lip trembling as spencer's frown deepens. he wants to hug you, but after your initial rejection he doesn't know if he can take another one. you feel a bit drowsy, likely a side-effect of the way casey had manhandled you.
"i know, you'll need to get checked out." he says quietly. "you might have a concussion, he really did a number on you." and despite his initial protests, and your earlier reaction, he's reaching for you again. you don't know if you're insecure, or if your profiling skills are allowing to see him for who he is, but the look in his eyes pushes you to relax. his fingers are gentle in the way they cradle your face, and instinctively you're leaning into his palm, cheek pressing against his hand. "i'm sorry." and you don't know which part he's apologizing for.
"can you come with me?" a quiet and still hopeful question. "we could sit together in the ambulance, pretend everything's alright just for a second?" you offer, and you think that's an answer to his question in itself. you didn't know how long it would take to get checked out, you didn't know how long it would take for them to bandage his hand and assess him for other scrapes and bruises, but you could take advantage of it, just the two of you. you could sit in silence, and dance around in that space between love and betrayal.
it was possible.
"y-yeah." he didn't stutter much anymore, so it stands out and makes you want to frown. "we can do that." his expression is torn, and you want to know what's on his mind, what he was thinking. you needed to know, you wanted some sort of sign, anything, that would show you he hadn't given up on you all because jj was in love with him. you hoped you weren't that disposable. "i want to." he adds, and he blinks harshly, almost like he's warding off tears, and it feels so awkward. the usual banter, the back and forth, the flirty remarks that always managed to leave you both shy were all gone.
in a matter of moments.
"good." and at the very least, he's here with you right now. "give me your hand." and you're careful not to grab the one he'd split with the glass, instead stepping around him to pull his clean palm into your slightly stained one. your fingers interlock, and it's a habit, a natural one at this point. "don't think too hard about it." you instruct, and he scoffs at you. he's upset, he's disappointed, hurting, angry, confused, you can see it. all his emotions seem to pile up on one another.
"how can i not?" he asks, and he sounds so tired. "it feels like you're seconds away from telling me that you're done with me." you're a not surprised at the pivot in his demeanor.
"isn't that what you want now?" you've started to walk, and spencer's letting you lead him, not quite ready to let your hand go once you reached the medic that was currently trying their hand at getting your attention. "i mean the girl you've always loved just put herself on a silver platter." you adds with a quiet sneer a second later. "what do you need me for?" you question, and he hates the feeling of his heart mimicking the sensation of pulling and squeezing. it hurts.
"y/n..." he tries, and you shake your head. "you have to know that nothing has changed." he promises, and you scoff. it stops you in your tracks.
"everything's changed!" you hiss. "she's in love with you. jj, our friend. she's been harboring feelings for you for years, but nothing's changed?" you huff, a tear seems to find joy in slipping from your eye in that moment. it's just one, but you know it's a opener to the main event. it's probably because despite everything, he makes you feel safest. part of that safety came an inability to shield your emotions and reactions from him. you'll have to try your darndest to do so now.
you don't really know if you can conceal them, but you don't want them to turn into full blown sobs. a few stray tears were easy to ignore, but the second it became a meltdown you knew you were finished. this wasn't your secret to share, and despite how angry you were with jj, you knew that it wasn't her fault. things were complicated, and you couldn't fully blame her for how she felt. you just wondered if she was biding her time, if she thought she was better suited for spencer than you. did she actually like you?
did she actually believe all that she'd told you regarding your relationship with spencer?
'i've never seen him smile so big' ... 'you guys are actually perfect for each other' ... 'tell us y/n, are you gonna be the one to give spence a few baby geniuses? the boys need some cousins'. your heart aches at the thought of it all being nothing but lip service. but you'd never expose her to the team, you'd never hurt will and the boys like that. which meant you'd have to shape up before the team was back.
"i mean for myself. nothing's changed for me and the way that i feel for you." he presses. "i wouldn't just toss our time together away like that." spencer looks stern as he scolds you. "was there a time that i thought about what it would be like? to be with jj... to-to have her love me back? yes... i won't lie about it." he says, and your face crumples up, and you want to run away. you don't know what he's getting at, but his words don't help as much as he might've hoped.
it causes you to yank your hand away, head shaking back and forth as you step back. "i said that i didn't want to talk about it." and you feel hypocritical because you'd thrown a few rocks to get you to this point in the conversation. "so stop it, okay? we're going to let it go, and we're going to talk about something else." you try your hand at deflecting. spencer's got an exceptional amount of patience, you see it wearing thin on his face, but you're not willing to budge.
"no, we need to talk about this." spencer argues. "i'm not going to pretend with you, and we've been together long enough for you to realize that you don't have to pretend with me, either." he adds. "if we don't now... i'm scared that we never will, and you're- you're angry with me, and i need you to tell me why." he pleads. "if we can't deal with things like this, we'll never make it past the hard stuff." he exhales, "i really want to make it past the hard stuff with you."
"i don't want to talk about it." you feel yourself getting a bit more irrational, angrier. your head feels like it's hurting even more, throbbing as it passed behind your eyes.
"why are you acting like this?" he's growing a bit frantic, he's got abandonment issues, and it feels like you might leave. he's lost a lot of people in his life, he's never been the best with change, he's never been the best with moving on, getting past the hard stuff. he doesn't want to push you too far, but he feels like he's got to hold on tight or risk losing you forever. "why can't you just tell me what you're thinking? if you're gonna vent, why not with me? let me help-"
"i don't want you to do anything for me!" you snap, and you're getting looks from the officers outside. you see rossi and his eyes are directly trained on the both of you. the rest of the team is scattered about, but much like rossi they're looking your way. it's officially become a scene. you run your hands across your face, dried blood caking over your skin, as you press your hands together, taking in a shaky breath. "i told you that i didn't want to talk about it." you remind him harshly.
"y/n-" you don't give him the chance to say much else, because you're immediately cutting him off.
"no!" you're ensuring your volume stays at appropriate levels, especially now that you seemed to have garnered a small audience. tara's still looking, and you know that every so often jj's taking it all in too. you at least owe it to the both of you to not go too far. "i want you to respect that maybe this isn't something you can fix with your extensive knowledge." you proceed. "you're smart as a whip, but boy do you still have a lot to learn about emotions." and you think you might have gone too far. you've definitely gone too far.
your head is really hurting though, and your vision's getting spotty. you don't have it in you to be politically correct, but you see the way his face morphs, how he looks so hurt. he towered over you, but he never looked more like a little boy than he did in that moment. "and my feelings... whatever they may be aren't just something that you can push out of me to make yourself feel better. this isn't just going to go away and be fixed by bed time, doctor reid."
he blinks.
"i wasn't-" he exhales, heartbeat wanting to rise in his chest. "that's not-" he's not prone to panic attacks, but he knew a lot about them. he knew how they could come out of no where, and be crippling. he was panicking, freaking out, mostly because he was being misunderstood. he never wanted you to misunderstand him, especially as it pertained to his intentions and his feelings towards you. "i wasn't trying to manage your feelings... i-" he's trying to breathe. "i just want us to be okay, i don't want to lose you."
you want to reply, really you do. you don't think you can though, because your brain feels like it's about to erupt. your knees lock, and you almost jerk. spencer's eyes widen and he's surging forward to catch you the second you start to fall. it brings him to his knees, split hand be damned. "y/n." and his suspicions about your concussion were confirmed, it makes guilt lash at him instantly. if he'd just bit his tongue, you wouldn't have passed out. he'd let you get too overwhelmed, you'd told him your head was bothering you.
he's so busy beating himself up, and trying to ensure that you were breathing, he doesn't even realize that matt's trying to garner his attention. "hey, what happened?" and he snaps out of it when tara's gently shoving at his arm. he feels like everything's going in slow motion now, he's just concerned about you. that's nothing new.
"i think she has a concussion..." he mutters. "casey-" he tightens his hold on you. "casey hit her in the head." he explains, and he wonders why he hadn't been more diligent earlier. the EMTs are joining next, and he should feel more relieved that you'll be getting the care you need. he knows most times unconsciousness wanes about fifteen minutes from the time that the victim passes out, but it doesn't calm him down. guilt was one hell of a problem.
"she's gonna be alright." tara is telling him, as they're rising to their feet, eyes following the stretcher you were laid out on. "she's a real fighter." and he already knows that, he thinks you're the strongest person in the world, but he should've never pushed you.
"spence!" jj's calling him, and she's approaching before he can reply. "what happened?" she sounds about as worried as he feels. guilt clearly was a dinner for two. "is she okay? w-what's wrong with y/n?" she fires off, and spencer thinks he should be the one talking to the EMTs and not tara and matt, but he can't seem to move. or respond, based on the way jj's face contorts. "spence!" she calls him again.
that snaps him out of his reverie.
"she's got a concussion, it's all my fault." he says what he's thinking. "i shouldn't have tried to force her to talk-" and he hates that right now is the moment he decides to word vomit. "i just-" he looks up at jj, who's got a mixture of emotions swirling in her eyes. "i should have let her go get checked out." he explains.
"this isn't your fault. spence, you're not the one that gave her a concussion. you're not the one that hurt her, casey was." she insists.
"casey's not the one that blew everything up." his retort is quick, and in hindsight, he doesn't blame jj for anything. he knows things are complicated, tricky, weird. but he doesn't want her to be the one to comfort him, and tell him everything was going to be fine. not right now.
"what? are you blaming me now?" jj asks, and she sounds heartbroken. spencer thinks he's getting used to the feeling of his foot being in his mouth. there's a moment of tense silence, a stare off that occurs where neither of them knows what to say. they don't know how to proceed, and he doesn't know why he keeps getting caught in this limbo of not knowing what to say. "i didn't mean to make things difficult." she finally says. "i never-"
they're pulled from this moment by tara. "spencer." and his head turns. "are you going to ride along to the hospital?" and it should've been the natural decision, except he's not feeling particularly ready. he takes a small step back, and it's one everyone seems to notice. the only people that were privy to what went down in that room were you, jj, and himself, and yet it felt like in that moment the entire team was given a front row seat to the obvious aftermath.
something had shifted, changed.
"y-" he shakes his head. "you go ahead." he offers, and tara's eyebrows raise. her shock makes him feel worse, but she doesn't question it. she climbs into the ambulance, and soon enough they're peeling out. his hand still hurts, the gash gnawing at him, but it's a welcomed pain. he'll have to bandage it soon though.
"spence." jj's wearing this look, a mixture of emotions he doesn't want to deal with. "it wasn't your fault." she insists. it doesn't make him feel any better, instead he's forced to come to terms with the decision he'd just made. you'd been taken to the hospital, and he'd stayed behind. he'd stayed behind and been reassured by jj.
you were never going to forgive him.
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peachigummi · 2 days
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test my luck ꢾ꣒ mattheo riddle. - UPDATED!
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summary: enemy to lovers! Mattheo and y/n have been each other's biggest haters since year 1, they're in their final year at Hogwarts. Mattheo finally pushes y/n to the edge, with his venomous words and guilt tactics.
pairing: enemy! mattheo x fem ravenclaw! reader
warnings: not for the faint of heart! mature themes/language. mentions of abuse. slow burn? bullying angst!! oh my god angst, but ends with some bittersweet fluff I promise! attempted suicide sorry (after reading this back, i dont mean it to be manipulation or to glorify or romanticize but! shit!! for a plot?)
note: i haven't written anything in literal years, the pov is going to shift a lot so bear with me. i honestly just lost any sense of motivation. but something in me just bloomed. you wont see any hp things on this blog it is my journal and i feel like sharing! maybe a part 2 in the making. if this gets enough response.
word count: 6,828
(slightly not really proofread or fan fact checked? if that's a thing ha)
playlist: should i create..? you know damn well the smiths would be in it! like Bigmouth Strikes Again?? that is mattheo!
reblogs & comments are so appreciated! i hope you enjoy <3
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
It was the start of your last year of Hogwarts, it was an okay time. You personally didn’t get into too much trouble, you liked to stick by yourself for the most part. You studied hard because your muggle parents were still confused about you being a witch, and what you would get out of it. It was hard to process that information, it was a thing of fairy tales. You had to prove yourself in this new world. That…that was hard when you were constantly looking over your shoulder for Mattheo Riddle.
“What’s a whore doing in my seat?” Speak of the damn devil. 
You turned to look at him with a sarcastic smile, “Well hello to you too Mattheo.” You nod at the three other boys that were with him, each of their arms crossed. “Draco. Blaise. Theodore.” You return to look at Mattheo, “you know last time I checked… there are no assigned seats in Potions.” You looked around and the class was still fairly empty.
“Think again and think hard.” Mattheo spoke to you in a cold shallow tone, he barely looked at you. He circled around the table you were at, your eyes following him. He suddenly stopped right behind your chair, yanking it back. There was a loud scrape, the few students that were in the room turned to look at the scene unfolding. You didn’t meet any of their eyes. Mattheo slammed his hand on the side of the table, making you flinch. You hated that you reacted that way. He grabbed the back of your ponytail, forcing your head forward where his hand was, “Look.” M. Riddle. D. Malfoy. B. Zabini. T. Nott. Their names were carved into the side. You grabbed Mattheo’s hand, the one that was still holding onto your ponytail, you tried to pry his icy cold fingers off. It only made him tighten his grip, he bent down to get close to your face, “I suggest you move unless you want me to carve my name onto your face as well.” he spat and finally let go. 
“Whatever,” you gathered your books, “this seat sucks anyways. I’ll go hang out with Professor Snape up front.” You rolled your eyes as Draco lit up a cigarette, handing the pack to the boys to share. If you’re going to try and get away with smoking, yeah do it in the back of the class I guess.
“You really like being a teacher’s pet don’t you? That’s why you’ve always got your nose up Snape’s ass.” 
“Seriously fuck off! Go continue to lose brain cells with your sorry excuse of friends.” You push the seat back and let it topple over. You mentally slapped yourself, you shouldn’t be feeding into his remarks.
“That’s cute sunshine, I’ll bet you have a hard time standing up for yourself in every aspect of your pathetic life. Do better.” Mattheo smugly said, smoking the cigarette that was in his hand.
You opened your mouth to speak but decided against it, you ended up just flipping him off. He did the same, giving you an annoyed look. You took the seat next to Hermione in the front of the class. Ugh! That Mattheo. “Are you okay?!” She asked, shooting daggers at the group, turning to you again “How can you put up with that? We have to tell someone..” you shook my head and whispered, “it’ll only make things worse. I don’t want to be a snitch. It’s already been six years anyways… how can one more year really change things.”
Blaise laughed, “you like that don’t you mattheo? Isn’t she so cute when she’s angry, you like feisty girls, yeah?”
Draco chuckles, “oh he definitely does, too bad she’s a stupid bitch.” The group laughs together.
You could hear them hollering from the back. You tried to calm yourself down and pay attention to the different measurements of the potions you were being taught. Maybe I could switch this class to a different time. You thought, focusing back to the lesson when Professor Snape mentioned something about needing to be in groups of three for an upcoming project.
Before Snape could assign anyone, Mattheo spoke up, “Sir I’d like to work with Theodore, if that’s permitted.” Snape looked annoyed by his interjection but answered, “No, Theodore will be with Y/N and Draco. Nothing will change. I already made the groups, they will be posted near the storeroom.” He gave Mattheo a dirty look.
You could hear Draco scoff but he didn't say anything. Yet. He kept to himself and his buddies while they continued to smoke and do other things to piss Professor Snape off before the class was finally dismissed. I guess I didn’t need to worry about being in a pair with Mattheo. You still wanted to protest against the group choice, but nothing would come of it. You knew better than to go against Snape’s final word. Theodore wasn’t such a horrible person, he actually can be pretty smart and helpful, if you got him alone. Otherwise when he was with even just one of his buddies, he was just like them - a jerk. It was Draco you won’t be able to stand.
“Don't do anything stupid, Y/L/N, and we might actually do okay in this project.” That was Draco himself, walking over with Theodore.
You ignored his comment, “where should we meet and when?”
“We can use one of the abandoned classrooms. Before the lunch break?” Theodore suggested, handing a note with directions.
“Okay. See you.” You said as bluntly as possible, gathering your book. You went to grab the ingredients your group might need. 
“Teachers pet!” Draco yelled after.
⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝
Of course you were the first to the abandoned classroom, you had been waiting for nearly twenty minutes before either of them showed. When they did, they didn’t bother to apologize, though you didn’t expect them to. Even with smart comments from both boys, you finished discussing the project and the presentation at a decent hour. It was quiet as you started to collect your things, Draco excused himself earlier to collect a package.
“Y/N, why is it that you hate Mattheo so much?” Theodore broke the silence, carefully watching you wrap the vials carefully. You paused, taken back. “He’s been trying to get a rise out of you since day 1, why?” He continued nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket.
You quickly grab them out of his hand and put it in your own breast pocket, “don’t smoke around me.” 
This made him annoyed, “Hey! I need those! They keep me calm!” 
“No you don't, you've been fine this entire time without them. I’m not trying to raise your blood pressure right now. You’re fine.” You give him a good look, maybe he was playing dumb. How could he not know? Theodore and Mattheo were best friends; they must have already talked about this, “I only hate Mattheo because he hates me. It’s all there's to it…” I think.
He lingers for a moment after you answered him, there is something else you haven’t said, “tell me what you think. There’s always some deeper reason for this sort of stuff” He rested his chin on his hand. See this is why I favored Theodore from the rest of his group, but should I still trust him? He could use this information against me. I took the chance.
“Over the years I suspected it was just plainly because I was a mudblood and not some perfect pure-bred like you folk.” You continued to wrap the vials carefully. 
Theodore rolled his eyes, “He does have a thing against people with different backgrounds than his own. He thinks everyone in this school should be from a wizarding family. But that’s not the case with you.” He grabbed a vial too, helping me wrap them, “He’s never said anything about your parents or how they’re muggles.” Mattheo would talk about me when I wasn’t around? Why would he do that? You looked into his eyes searching for some joke or underlying lie. There was none I could detect.
You recall the moment aloud when you first laid your eyes on Mattheo, “It was at the train station. Our first year. I remember hugging and kissing my parents goodbye, not wanting to let go of them. I turned around to go on the train and there was a much much smaller Mattheo staring at me with wide beady little eyes that were glossed over with tears. He was cute in that split second - ” You couldn’t help but smile at the memory. Theodore watched you carefully. You straightened your lips, continuing, “ - before he stuck a solid wad of gum in my hair.”
Theodore bellowed, nearly falling backwards in his chair, “Yeah that sounds like him, that’s a classic stunt he’d pull off. There was this one time in year 5 when he stuck gum on the chair of one of the professors before class…I never saw her so mad after she sat down and got up, her chair nearly followed her around!” He tried to settle himself down, “Mattheo always had a thing for doing stuff to people and acting as if it’s all a joke.”
“It’s not a joke when you have to cut your hair super short in order to remove the gum. I felt so naked without my long hair, it was so beautiful! And he made it worse when he made a point to show how ugly I was to everyone in the Great Hall. I even remember you laughing just like you are now.” You pushed his shoulder.
Theodore smirked, “yeah we all laughed, how couldn’t we?! You looked ridiculous before you grew it back out. We used to call you Baldy McEgg-head. You’d get so mad, only making us laugh harder.” At least someone cherished the memory. You rolled your eyes.
It grew quiet again, “have you ever met Mattheo’s parents? Has he ever talked to you about them?”
“No. I’ve never met them. He’s never really talked about his parents or his life outside Hogwarts. I don’t think he’s on great terms with his dad. He always stayed with them during the breaks, and wasn't ever allowed to spend it with us or here at hogwarts. He missed out on a lot of important hang outs. I wished he was there for them” Theodore explained, he sounded disappointed and angry.
“Do…do you think he’s jealous of my home life? The affection I was receiving in front of him at the train station…” 
He thinks for a moment, “I suppose it could be a possibility…hard to tell. He doesn’t allow himself to show too much emotion, again, probably has to do with the way he must have been raised.”
You wanted to do more research into Mattheo’s family…but how? “Thanks for this Teddy. You’ve given me a lot to think about.” You finished packing everything into your bag. Before you left you tossed him back his pack of cigarettes, “see you later.”
⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝
You let out a sigh of relief, to be alone once again. Mettheo Riddle, what secrets do you hide? You made your way to the library instead of the Great Hall. After a few hours of searching around the library, you finally find a section of massive thick old leather bound books. You blew on the covers, these books contained a record of all the wizards and witches that had attended Hogwarts. Kind of like a yearbook, but it told you what came of them. Who married who, what did they end up doing after Hogwarts, etc. a rare but quite the gem of a find. “R… R.. R” you whispered, touching the book ends. You look at the bottom of the bookshelf finding the one that contained the last names that began with R. You found it, and you began to look through for the name “Riddle.”
Just as you got to the last name, you felt a wave of shame. You were snooping into somebody’s life. Their history. This is wrong. If Mattheo wanted to talk about his home life, surely he would have. He was hiding something. There were heavy slow footsteps coming around the corner of the aisle. You snapped the book shut holding it behind you and you looked at the section opposite of where you just were. Mattheo, they were his steps, you could tell. 
“Of course you’d be in the library doing nerd stuff.” He doesn’t sound happy, but also when is he truly ever?
You looked at him then around yourself, “who me? A nerd for being in the library?” I mean he wasn’t wrong but ..yeah. You still point at him, “Where are you then? Because it seems to be you’re also in the library with…” you fake gasp, “...Me! Making you a nerd too!” You hoped that confused him, you shifted the leather book behind your back. It was getting heavy by the second.
“I’m ditching classes to smoke,” He takes a rip of a cigarette that was nearly at its end, he blows the smoke in your face. “Nerd.”
“Whoop-dee-doo what a stellar insult Mettheo. I’m a ravenclaw. What did you expect? I’d rather be a nerd than a-” You took a step closer to him squinting then widening your eyes in horror, “oh my god Mattheo did you lose a tooth from all that smoking?” He quickly shoved his pinky into his mouth feeling his teeth in a panic. If there was one thing he cared more about than cigarettes it was keeping up with his good looks. Uh did I just describe him as good looking?
He actually laughed once he finished counting his teeth, “They’re perfectly fine. I care about taking care of myself, unlike you. How often do you wash yourself? I doubt you even brush your hair. I did you a favor when you had to cut it off. You have no sense of style, even with a selection of uniforms! Why do you dress like it’s winter all year? You dress like a peasant from the 1820’s”
Okay ouch, that kinda hurt. You’ve been insecure with your body, you always struggled with that. Dressing in sweaters helped hide it. You didn’t know how to respond, maybe he's right. You couldn’t stand up for yourself to save your life. You just shoved his shoulder with your own and walked past him. 
Matthew continues to follow you, “did you just shove me you twat?” He snatched the book out of my arms holding it a ways away from you, “If you’re going to do sneaky shit, don’t do it so obviously. Is this a diary or something?” Your eyes widened trying to take it back, but he held it up high above his head easily with one hand.
“Yes! It’s my diary, it’s where I gush about the god almighty perfect Mattheo!” I sarcastically said, still hoping he wouldn’t look at the title of the book. “No stupid! I dont have one, I just got done working on the potions project with your buddies. Hand me back the book.”
“Oh I bet you three had lots of fun. Did you talk about me while you were there? Did you talk about how you can’t take your eyes and mind off of me? You’re clearly obsessed, following me around like a love sick puppy. You pop up wherever I happen to be.” 
“Ew no never.” You fought your expression back, did Theodore tell him something? Fuck. “Draco left, it was just Teddy and I. we spent it kissing the whole time. Super carefree. His lips surprisingly didn't taste like cigarettes, they were pretty sweet.”
Mattheo’s smug smirk fades even before you finish your sentence. He hated how you used a nickname for his friend. He despised the thought of you kissing anyone, especially his mates, “fucking liar. THEODORE, not TEDDY, doesn’t like you. He just tolerates you because he has to. He wouldn’t be caught dead kissing you. You’re disgusting and I pity anyone who has the displeasure of touching you in any way other than to harm you. 
You hold your hands up, “woah woah woah, whatever makes you sleep peacefully at night. Why else did Teddy take me to an abandoned classroom, it was our chance to get away together especially after Draco conveniently left.” You couldn’t believe you were lying through your teeth, this would forsure come back and bite you in the ass even harder. You haven’t even had your first kiss yet. You haven't even been romantically linked with anyone before. 
“Stop fucking calling him Teddy, it’s Theodore!”
“Can you guys get a room or SHUT UP! For Merlin’s Sake” A random student yelled out at us. Slamming their hand on the table. You were embarrassed because you took pride in keeping the library a sacred place to study or relax.
“Piss off. Go find a room of your own instead of listening to us talking. You must be a first year, if you’re still so sensitive to other’s voices in the library.” He continued to raise his voice, “We’ve been like this for years! Blah blah blah!!”
“Stop it Mattheo.” You shove him again, mouthing to the student, I'm very sorry. With the distraction you go and grab the book in Mattheo’s hand but he quickly readjusts his grip.
“You don’t have to apologize for me, sunshine. You should apologize to him for your existence, do everyone a favor will you?” He finally looked down at the title of the book, Who Were They and Where They Now?: Hogwarts. He carefully used a single finger to pry it open to where the fabric bookmark was, immediately seeing his own surname. He gives a manic laugh looking up at your face and slamming the book down to the floor, “you stalker. You are obsessed with me.” 
He lunged at you. You took a step back, you hit the shelving. Your heart was beating so fast you thought you would pass out from the red handed guilt. 
“What kind of information were you looking to find huh?” He pointed a finger at me, his eyes ice cold. Looking to murder. Your head suddenly hurt, there was a high pitched ringing that wouldn't stop. You went to cover your ears to find some relief but Mattheo grabbed you and shook hard, “what the FUCK did you think you would find? Tell me. Tell me NOW!” You didn’t know what to say he just stared hard at you, his nails digging into your arms. You winced. He began to speak fast and harshly as if he knew, as if you had said something. 
“Did you really expect you would find out that I had a happy home? Do you think I’m happy being born in some dingy hovel? Do you think I'm overjoyed to be related to and be abused by my father? He beat me black and blue and hated my existence. My mother just sat there silently watching. She doesn’t care. Would YOU be thrilled knowing that you came from a long line of dark wizards who’ve caused pain and suffering to people for centuries.” 
You began to cry, “Mattheo..”
“You honestly think I would be so proud of that to tell everyone?” He scoffed.
“Mattheo you’re hurting me…”
“I. Don’t. Care.” His deep brown eyes didn’t leave yours, “you should have minded your own business. Stupid girl prying into my history. What do you care? Did you think I'd be less of a jerk to you if I had a perfect loving family like yours? ”
“I’m sorry…I’m sorry! I .. I.”
“Shut up. You don't get to speak. I don't need you feeling sorry for me, I can handle myself. This is probably the worst you’ll ever experience.”
“Y-You’re right. I’m.. I’m grateful I never had to e-endure that” You were one stuttering mess. 
He moves one hand to cup your mouth to shut you up again, “what did i say. I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth.” He rose the other up threateningly. 
You closed your eyes. Do it Mattheo. Please. I deserve it. I’m sorry I tried to pry. Do it. He was surprised by your offer and looked at you in confusion, his expression didn’t change though. “What kind of sick request is that?” You open your eyes again to meet his. Both of you were in disbelief, did he just-? “Why would you want me to beat you? Because you feel bad for me? I don’t want nor need your sympathy. Trying to act like a saint that's willing to be my punching bag whenever I want.” he scoffed, letting your mouth free, taking a single step back away from you.
“Then why are you so mean to me? Tell me that. When I first laid eyes on you during our first year at the train platform, I thought we would be friends.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing where his fingers had dug into you.
“You’re a prissy annoying know-it-all goody two shoes that thinks she’s better than everyone. You can’t help but chime in whenever you have the chance and show off.”
“So it’s just my existence then huh, nothing else to it?” You felt your own anger finally rise, you wiped your tears off your cheek trying to regain composure.
“Pretty much. You’re unbearable. You are the most unexciting thing I’ve ever encountered.”
“Let me fix that for you.” Your eyes betrayed you and let the gates open, the flood starting to spill once more. Before Mattheo could get another hold of you you quickly shuffled off, dropping your things. Already feeling limp. Just hoping your legs would carry you a bit more.
Mattheo rolls his eyes, “tsk so stupid.” He stood there staring at the place you once were. Thinking about what occurred when he processed what you said, “Y/N! Hey I-..” He began to follow in the direction you went off to.
Your shuffle turned into a run, you just needed privacy. Anything. Your dorm was too far away, so you went into the nearest girls bathroom and into the furthest stall to sob.
Mattheo reaches the hallway, looking to his left and right. Fuck where did she go? He closes his eyes to listen closely. He heard something faint and went with his gut.
You sat down beside the toilet, hitting your head with your fist. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.” You heard a familiar giggle, “go away Myrtle. Now’s especially not the time.” 
Bathroom, you had to be in the bathroom. He went inside not caring if another girl would see him, “Y/N? You’re in here, I know you are. Look, just come out will you?” Instead Moaning Myrtle came forth.
“Are you looking for me?” she bit her finger looking him up and down, “we don't get that many cute boys in here.” She sighed, still admiring him, “Nevertheless, shame on you. How could someone as delicious as you treat someone so horribly.” She laughed in his face.
“Shut up. I don't need to be lectured by some depressed ghost. Why are you even here. Go away.” He went further inside the bathroom pushing doors in, “actually have you seen a girl come in, Y/N?”
“Yes!” She said excitedly pointing to the last stall, “She’s coming with me and we’ll get to haunt together. It’ll be so fun to not be alone anymore” She broke into another high pitched laugh, clapping her hands with joy. 
“What the hell is she on about?” That’s when he noticed broken glass from a mirror. His heart drops, “you’ve got to be kidding me…” He rushed over pushing the final door in, but this one wouldn’t budge. “Y/N. It’s Mattheo..” his heart drops and he pales when he notices blood start to seep out from under the door, you’ve hurt yourself. “Y/N!” He says again louder, “open the door! Open it right fucking now! Y/N!!”
You didn’t want him to see you like this, no one should have to see this. You try to hold the door closed but you were losing your strength to do anything. The blood made it slippery so your hand slid down, “M-m-mattheo haven’t..you said enough?”
Myrtle pointed to the glass, “look how eager she was! Damaging school property to break free” She did a couple spins in the air, “any minute now!”
“That’s it. I’ve had enough.” Mattheo raised his wand and shot a blast at the lock, it broke open and he flung the door open to reveal you laying on the floor. His heart seemed to stop completely. “Shit! Dammit! Y/N!” 
The blast frightened you, “No. Mattheo. No.” You could only make out his dark curly haired head. You tried to swat him away before losing consciousness due to blood loss. 
Professor Snape rushed in after hearing a blast, “what the bloody hell is going on in here, Mr. Riddle.”
Mattheo looked at him with an angry and panicked expression, “I need her in the infirmary right now.” He said through gritted teeth. He leans over you, grabbing a large bunch of toilet paper and quickly kneels next to you. Applying pressure on your bleeding left wrist.
Snape understood immediately, “Keep the pressure on the wrist, Riddle.” He was able to pick you up easily, but he was not enthusiastic about having your blood staining his robes, “with HASTE Riddle! Follow me!” And off they went to the infirmary. Once there Snape quickly laid you on a bed gently before Madame Pomfrey took over. 
She was able to stop and clean the bleeding, while she examined the cut striation she asked both Snape and Mattheo what blood type they were, “The girls lost too much blood, she needs a transfusion.” She began to stitch the wrist, the cut was near vertical to the veins. 
Mattheo in a less than a split second looked at Pomfrey, “Am I able to donate for her.” He didn’t say it as a question, he wanted it to be a command. 
“As long as you share the same blood type then yes, sweetheart. Please, fresh blood is much better. We can’t wait more time, Ms. Y/L/N is so terribly pale. She can have a seizure any minute if we dont get more blood to her brain” still carefully pulling at threads. His hand was still holding yours. 
He nods impatiently, less talking, more action. “I’m AB-” he gulped. One of the rarest blood types in the world, “what type is she?” he began to roll up his sleeve even before Pomfrey was able to respond.
“Goodheavens! Thank Merlin. She’s AB- as well!” She sighs looking up at the ceiling for a split second, calling for a nurse to help set up the transfusion. He took a seat on your left, watching the nurse insert a needle into each of your arms. He didn’t flinch, but he gave her a threatening look when she inserted a needle into your arm, thinking she would bring more pain to you. 
Madame Pomfrey stood up, finished. “If it was with a straight razor and not a glass shard, I don’t think i would have been able to-” she let her voice die down after seeing how pale Mattheo began to look too, she shut her mouth as to not worry him more with what the other alternative was. He couldn’t hide his guilt. His eyes were alternating between your face and his blood that was slowly running into your body through a single tubing. He desperately needed it to go faster. 
“Is there a chance she would wake up with problems with her veins or her nerves?” He asked.
Pomfrey patted the boy's shoulders, “Let’s hope not, let’s hope they hold. With the basics in place, there’s nothing a little magic can’t help.” This eased him, “Ms. Y/L/N wont wake for a couple of hours. She needs to be watched to make sure she doesn’t rip my stitching job or we will go back to square one my boy. Can I trust you?”
“Is that really a necessary question?” He bit his tongue, “Sorry, yes I will watch over her. I need to be here when she wakes up.”
“Best she gets a psychiatrist too, but that's a later issue to address. We’ll focus on physical healing for now.” Pomfrey looked at Mattheo curiously, isn’t this one of the trouble-making slytherin boys? She shook her head and walked out to attend to another student.
“Y/N i’m here.” He studies your face, deep with regret and guilt. He holds your right hand tightly, he whispers softly, “it’s okay, you’re going to be alright..”
“Riddle.” Snape was still watching everything from the shadows of the room, “What happened to my best student, why is he in this condition?”
“It’s my fault, Professor…I was making a fool out of myself. I was treating her like hell… it went too far. She must have had a breakdown and she-” he couldn’t bear to describe your condition out loud.
Snape held a hand up to silence him from saying more, “rather than giving you detention for the rest of your time here at Hogwarts. I will need you to attend all the girl’s classes she will be missing in her recovery. She must not fall behind.”
“Yes sir, I understand. I’ll do it.” 
Snape turned to leave but came back toward the boy and yanked the cigarette box from his uniform pocket, “none of these for you either, especially as you are sharing blood with Y/N. She never liked you smoking.” and off he turned around to change his own robes from the blood.
“Anything for you.” he whispered towards you, “please wake up soon.”
⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝
You began to stir, your eyes fluttering open. You looked around in a panic. You were incredibly sore, especially your left wrist. It stung badly. Mattheo had fallen asleep in the chair when he jolted awake to the sound of your movements, “Calm down, relax, you’re in the infirmary. You’re safe.” He couldn’t help but feel like he just lied about it being safe, if he was the cause of this.
“M…m..Mattheo” You began to cry again, “I’m so sorry.” You went to reach out and hug him but flinched. You followed the red transfusion line to him, “oh Mattheo.”
He sat up to lean towards you. He shushes you and wipes your tears with the back of his hand, ‘you need to calm down and take it easy, princess. You’ve lost a lot of blood and you're still weak. This is just to bring your levels up, you’ll start to feel better soon.”
You stared at his beautiful eyes, ones that had held so much hate but there seemed to be no trace of it now. You felt guilty, I acted like a coward. “Myrtle said it was going to be quick and painless. I’m so stupid I couldn’t even do it right.” You felt another wave of tears coming but  you tried to choke them down.
“No youre not, you’re not at fault.” He couldn’t help but chuckle cautiously as what he was about to say, “you might be a know-it-all but you just need to have more control with your thoughts. Don’t listen to Moaning Myrtle. Don’t be hard on yourself, you're not stupid. You did nothing wrong.”
“I thought I was doing you a favor.” you were so exhausted. But you needed to get this out before you lost consciousness again. With your good arm you help his hand tightly, looking him in the eyes again to emphasize the point you were going to make, “Mattheo, I really am idiotic. I Am. I did think you had a perfect life, it didn’t cross my mind that you had it any other way. You were always carefree and just let's be honest, acting like you're’ better than everyone else. It was wrong of me to have assumed that.”
He frowns. “Don’t apologize. There’s no way to tell what someone is going through ultimately. I..cope in my own way.” He softly strokes your cheek with this thumb.
If it wasn’t for the pain, you would have thought you were asleep. Dead. Or in purgatory. A realm between realms. No way the mattheo I’ve known my whole life is sitting beside me looking..lovingly at me? You felt horrible. Did I just manipulate him into caring about me? Just hours ago he was mocking and saying nasty things as usual. 
Mattheo could see the look of disbelief in your eyes from the way he was behaving, “Y/N. I’m caring for you. No you’re not dreaming or in some other realm. You’re here, with me, thank Merlin. You didn’t manipulate me, you woke me up.”
You sat up too quickly for your own good, your head feeling light “How are you doing that?” 
He shook his head, “Another time. I’m really sorry for how I treated you. You think I’m just some asshole, but I'm more than that really. I want to be more than that. No one else has gotten to see the real me.”
“Mattheo, I see you.” Despite your pain, you reach out to cup his face between your hands. For a second, you saw the boy you first laid your eyes on that first year at the train station. The same sad eyes, “I see you.”
He sighed into your touch, it was a soft and innocent gesture he was not used to. He chuckled softly, and gently placed his hands over yours, keeping them there. He didn’t want to lose the touch, “I know you do, and that’s exactly why I'm afraid.”
You couldn’t help but imagine - how different our lives could have been for the last 6 years, if he would have just introduced himself to me. Explained why he looked so pained when I was with my family. “My parents would have welcomed you as their own” you explained your thoughts to him. “I could have protected you. You could have visited me during the holiday breaks. I know saying it will not change the past and what has happened to you. But I see you Matty.”
“yeah..it’s too late to change the past, I should’ve but I didn’t think you’d understand. It doesn’t excuse the way I treated you all these years, Y/N.” His voice got shaky, his eyes starting to water. He was a mess.
“No, don't you start Mattheo please, baby.” You brought him into a hug, again ignoring your throbbing wrist. “Easy now.” you soothed the curls that were behind his neck. They felt so soft.
Mattheo rested his head on your shoulder and held you tightly, softly crying into you. He wrapped his arms around you and held onto your shirt like he was afraid to let go. He couldn’t remember the last time someone treated him like this, it felt so new and overwhelming.
You kissed the top of his head, inhaling - cigarettes. You hated that he smoked but at this moment the smalle was comforting. He let out a deep sigh. You broke the hug only because you scooted over on the bed, and tugged him to lay beside you. We watched you, he looked so tired. He nodded in agreement with a small smile, he carefully laid beside you, making sure to be careful of your condition.
You gave him a reassuring look that wasn’t hurting you. I’m okay. You looked at your arms touching side by side, still connected by the tubing. You couldn't help but laugh, “Matty isn’t it ironic? All this pure-blood and mudblood talk and look” you carefully lifted the tube, “we’re still one and the same foundation.” You smiled at him, helping wipe his tear stained cheeks now. “Thanks for your donation to me.”
He too couldn't help but grin back at you. He couldn’t believe you weren’t pushing him away for how he treated you, or for how vulnerable he was at the moment, “any time, but please actually don’t do that ever again. You made me worried to death..”
“No I won’t. Pinky promise.” You held out your pinky for him to take. 
He took it in his own nodding, “good, you’re stuck with me now.”
With our pinkies still woven, you  looked at the size difference. You turned toward his Bambi like eyes, “let's start this over on the right foot. Better late than never? Hi i’m Y/N, [insert some fun facts about yourself].”
Mattheo smiled more widely, blushing his pinky did make yours look kiddish. It was adorable. He gave you a playful look, smirking at you like he usually would, “Nice to meet you there, Y/N. I’m Mattheo, the sexiest guy you’ll meet in Hogwarts.”
There’s my Mattheo. “And you promise to…?” you coaxed him.
He gave your pinky another squeeze, “to try to be nice and kind to you, and avoid bullying you….as well as to not smoke in your presence…you happy?”
You kind of nodded, holding in your laugh, “aaaand…?”
He looked at you, trying to read what you wanted him to say. He gave your pinky another, slightly rougher, squeeze. “And I promise not to throw a wad of gum into your beautiful hair?”
“Bingo. Mr. Riddle, that’s what I was ultimately looking for.” You let go of his pinky, “but it is nice to know the other stuff too.” you waved your hand like it was nothing, but it was my everything. He gave you a sarcastic scoff, he liked that you were still acting like your old self too. 
You kissed his cheek and his face went redder than a cherry, you acted shocked “woah did I just make Mattheo, the sexiest guy in Hogwarts BLUSH?!” You slapped your hands against your cheeks in play disbelief, slightly regretting the pain it brought to your arms. He quickly shook his head and blushed even more than originally thought possible, he tried to hide his face away from you, “S-shut up! That’s a lie! I was not blushing, it’s just your imagination.”
You laughed at his reaction, taking his hand in mine once more comparing the hand sizes. You put my head against his shoulder, before dropping your jester attitude. Making him form another pinky promise with you. “Mattheo, I promise to be there for you. I want to protect you. You shouldn’t live in the shadow of your home life, especially not alone. Just as much as I’m stuck with you. You’re stuck with me. That’s my promise to you.”
His heart beat fast, it nearly melted his heart to hear your promise. He let out a deep, shaky breath. He couldn't stop the small tear that rolled down his cheek, he didn’t bother wiping it. He just leaned his head down to rest on your own, “deal…”
There was a pause, before you spoke up again.“I know we just started the year but please, come back home with me this Christmas holiday when it rolls around.” You blinked up at him. You started to feel really sleepy, that was to be your last request and plea for the moment, “I’ll show you how muggles get down to holiday business.”
Mattheo looked down at you and smiled softly, as your eyes were struggling to stay open, “yea sure, i’ll spend the holidays with you” he wasn’t sure how he would, but he would worry about that later.
Many promises were made this day, and you intended to keep each and every single one of them. In many ways, you knew this would still be the same Mattheo you had always known, but it would all be so different now. You managed to break through his extremely guarded shell, the hardest way possible. But it needed to desperately be broken.
You turned Mattheo’s head to look at you, he met your gaze. The corner of his lip curled up as he knew what you were about to do. He let you take the lead, closing his eyes. You kissed his lips slowly, cherishing how it felt. You wanted more of him, but your body was pleading for rest. You hugged his arm and surrendered.
He couldn’t help but touch his lips afterwards with his fingertips. He watched as you gave in to exhaustion, he followed your lead and let out a deep sigh before closing his eyes, “Goodnight princess.” Mattheo fell asleep to the sounds of you breathing and the sound of your heartbeat, they would surely become one of the most blissful lullabies to be heard by him. He intertwined his fingers with yours, he wouldn’t ever let go.
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ariesangelxo · 2 days
Text
mornings, part three
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS, DNI
cw: rafe x fem!reader, talk about use of drugs, dealing, one minor head injury, sad!rafe, soft!rafe, a little bit of angst, fluff, smut, oral (f receiving), nipple sucking, makeup sex, piv, creampie, pet names during sex, praise, etc.
an: i hope you all like part three! i want to quickly thank you again for the love shown for parts one and two. i cannot wait to continue writing. the interactions mean more than i can ever express.
part one part two
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the silence that enveloped you was a strikingly peaceful contrast from the loud echo of a gunshot that rang in your ears.
sarah’s scream the moment you hit the ground ran a deep chill through rafe’s body. it was the sight of you, crumpled up on the beach, that snapped him out of his cocaine-fueled rage.
as people at the boneyard ran from jj firing off the gun, you lay perfectly still. rafe jumped into action, running over to you. he cradled your head and to his horror, he felt liquid on one of his hands. you had sustained a small cut to the back of your head when you passed out, an unfortunately placed rock being in the same landing spot as your skull.
when rafe pulled one of his hands away from the back of your head his skin turned nearly white. he looked up at sarah, tears forming in his eyes as he yelled for her to get kie. something in him changed, he realized in that moment how close he was to truly losing you.
kie told rafe to move as she lifted your head, supporting your neck so that she could try and feel for the injury. rafe stood up, walking absentmindedly to the ocean where he rid his stomach of the alcohol he’d drank earlier to try and numb the pain of seeing you again. he felt a hand rubbing his back and looked over to see sarah.
“she’s okay, rafe. she just got a cut from a rock. kie said everything else feels okay.” rafe felt a surge of relief go through him.
he went back over to you, salty tears cascading down his cheeks as he gently held you, “i love you. i’m so sorry, baby. i’m so, so sorry. you need to wake up though, we gotta get you out of here.”
you began to come out of unconsciousness, just barely catching rafe’s words as the pounding in your head hit you. you harshly shut your eyes, the noise from kie and pope yelling at jj only intensified the pain.
rafe hushed them, shooting a glare towards jj. “hi my sweet girl,” he whispered softly to you, running his hand gently over your forehead.
you opened your eyes to see him. your heart began racing, it had been so long since you’d been this close to him. the way he looked at you, his usually icy blue eyes now warm with concern, filled your stomach with butterflies. “rafe,” you croaked out, your face twisting at the sound of your own scratchy voice, “my head hurts.”
“i know. just hang in there f’me, okay? we’re gonna get you home.” he picked you up bridal style, silently looking over to sarah to ask her to come with. she quickly nodded, following after him.
the drive back to tannyhill was quiet. you were in the backseat, lying down with your head on rafe’s lap as sarah drove.
the anger you’d been harboring towards the cameron boy was set aside. it was difficult for you to have the energy to be mad when his eyes were glossy with unshed tears, holding you like his life depended upon it.
rafe carried you into the silent home, bringing you to the bathroom where he grabbed a first aid kit. he dabbed at the cut on the back of your head, holding your chin to keep you still.
“this might hurt a little, just stay still,” he murmured as he focused.
you winced at the initial contact, letting out a slight whimper, “shhh, you’re doing so good for me, baby.”
the gentle tone in his voice made you want to cry. it felt like it had been stolen away from you so long ago, a precious artifact that was a mere memory of your once perfect relationship.
rafe caught the slight wobble in your bottom lip, quickly pulling away from the back of your head. your eyes opened at the sudden lack of contact to see the frown on his lips, “are you okay? was it hurting too much?”
“no, no, it’s okay.” you responded, holding his gaze. rafe nodded softly, finishing up cleaning the small wound before looking you over. you could tell his head was swarming with thoughts, the way he furrowed his brows and brought his bottom lip between his teeth was a dead giveaway.
a part of you was tempted to question him, to ask what he was thinking about and pick his brain to pull out the answers you so desperately wanted. the other part of you told you not to. the possibility of some of your worst fears becoming the truth would completely break you now.
it took you a moment to register the sound of rafe's voice, your eyes snapped up at him, "i'm sorry, what was that?"
"i asked if you needed help walking back to my room."
"why would i be going to your room?" you questioned him, a bit thrown off by his firm tone.
"because you hit your head, it's getting late, and you don't have a way to drive home right now. plus, somebody needs to watch over you to make sure you're okay." he responded, his voice matter-of-fact.
"and that means i'm supposed to crawl into your bed and act like everything's normal?" you laughed humorlessly, the bubbling anger in the back of your mind beginning to rise again.
rafe brought his fingers up to the bridge of his nose, pinching it as he took in a deep breath to keep his cool. "don't argue with me right now. you're not going home. you are going to get into bed and let me watch over you."
your shoulders slumped, you knew he was right. with a small huff you jumped down from the countertop, walking into his room and immediately going to his closet to grab one of his t-shirts to sleep in. rafe had followed behind you, not saying a word as you fell into what used to be your normal routine before bed with him.
he stripped down to his boxers while you wanted to hit your head against the wall, your heart betraying your brain as it began to race at the sight of his muscular body.
you rubbed your eyes, attempting to rid yourself of those thoughts before you crawled into your side of his bed. you couldn't help but wonder to yourself if anyone else had slept in this spot, your spot, since you broke up. the idea made you feel nauseated and had your skin crawling.
you shivered at the idea, turning over so that your back was to rafe. you knew you couldn't look at him, not when this felt far more intimate than you were comfortable with. your entire body lay stiff, the tension between you two could have been cut with a knife.
"rafe?" you whispered out, keeping your eyes focused on the small sliver of moonlight that seeped its way through his curtains.
"yeah, kid?"
"why'd you do it?" you felt adrenaline rush through your body, the type of feeling you get after you send a risky text and throw your phone away from you, wanting to know the response but also being terrified of what may be coming.
he was quiet for a moment, "do what?"
"cheat."
"i didn't... i didn't cheat on you." his voice held a vault of emotions. you couldn't bring yourself to face him, unknowingly missing the key to that vault, the way he looked at you like the thought of choosing someone over you would kill him.
"what were you doing with her then?"
"will you please look at me?" rafe's voice wavered slightly, the fear of you rejecting him was unmistakable.
you hesitated, your breath catching in your throat. it was easier to have this conversation when you couldn't see him, it was easier to pretend as though this was just in your head and not a part of your current reality. however, the way his voice wavered tugged at your heart. his vulnerability, that you'd missed so much, made you feel like you had to turn over.
once you moved so you were facing him, you could tell he was holding back his emotions. it was a look you were all too familiar with, one you'd seen many times when rafe would come to you after he'd been in a fight with ward. he always feared that crying made him weak, ward had instilled that into him from a young age, among other things.
he inhaled a shaky breath, "i-i would never cheat on you. i fucked up, badly, but not in that way."
you gave him a confused look, "what do you mean? and if you weren't cheating on me, then why did you let her touch you? why'd you look at her like that? you... you changed rafe. the last few months of our relationship you became a completely different person, you weren't the man i fell in love with."
he winced slightly at your words. "i know," he looked upset with himself, "i- i lost a lot of my dad's money. it was a stupid deal i thought i was in on and the guy ended up fucking me over. i started using again, but i didn't want you to know. i knew how disappointed you'd be. i thought i could just do it a couple times, to feel better. but that turned into me owing barry more and more money. he told me i could pay him back by working for him, selling at parties."
you were disappointed in him, disappointed that he didn't tell you sooner. "rafe... why didn't you say something? instead of leaving me in the dark, literally. i can't count on two hands the number of times i waited for you to come home, just to cry myself to sleep in your bed. this also doesn't explain what happened at the country club." your tone was firm, but not angry.
"her name is sofia. she saw me at one of top's parties and wanted to buy, but by the time she meant to, i'd left. i didn't like her touching me, but she wanted to buy a lot. it would have paid off a decent amount of money i owe."
you analyzed his face, his words, the tone of his voice, anything and everything to try and figure out if he was telling the truth. you knew the way his eyes would dart around the room when he lied, eye contact made it too hard for him, the way he'd pick at the skin around his fingernails as a distraction from the guilt that would arise in his stomach. he wasn't expressing any of his usual tells.
"have- have you been with anyone? since i left?" you asked nervously.
"no- god, no. baby, i've been a wreck. i... i stopped trying to reach out because i knew you needed space. i'm so sorry for how i treated you, i love you more than anything in the world." rafe professed to you, spilling out his emotions that could no longer be held back.
a tear slipped from the corner of his eye and you gently reached your thumb up to wipe it away. the way he leaned into your touch truly made the walls you'd built up crumble away. the small action was a bulldozer, taking them out like they were made of snow.
"i love you too, rafe. i just... i'm scared that you're going to drift away again. that broke me, i've been a shell of a person for the past month. i can't go through that another time." your voice came out just above a whisper, a sad smile on your face as a tear of your own fell down your cheek.
he shook his head, "i promise i won't shut you out again. i can't lose you. you're everything to me, i don't- i won't ever go through another day not talking to you."
he wrapped his large arms around you, pulling you close against his bare chest as he rested his chin on top of your head. you couldn't stop the tears that began falling. you'd be the world's worst liar if you said you didn't miss him, that this wasn't the only thing you'd truly wanted the last month, that you didn't love this man with your entire heart.
he placed a firm kiss on your hairline, "i love you."
"i love you too, rafe."
"let me make it up to you," he whispered against your forehead, moving you back slightly so he could look you in the eyes. you nodded, wanting to be as close to him as humanly possible.
he gently flipped you over, laying you on your back as he crawled over you. his arms rested on both sides of your head, caging you in. he brought his rough thumbs to your cheeks, wiping the tears away and placing kisses were they once were.
"you're so beautiful, my perfect girl." he murmured against your skin. you felt a rush of electricity jolt through you, going straight to your core at his words.
his lips met yours. the initial kiss was gentle, sweet, and full of love. they quickly became heated though, the rough dance of your lips was full of unspoken words telling of how badly your bodies needed each other.
your hands moved up and down his torso. the feeling of his warm skin underneath your fingertips made your cheeks heat up. he lifted the hem of his shirt on you, breaking apart your kiss momentarily so he could take it off of you.
his lips went to your jawline, trailing down your neck and to your collarbone. he sucked on your sweet spot, undoubtedly leaving marks that you'd attempt to hide when you went home tomorrow.
your soft moans were a melody to his ears, his favorite song that he'd never get tired of hearing. his mouth moved down to your nipples. he gently took one between his teeth, applying just enough pressure to bring you a sensation of pain that was incredibly pleasureful. his hand reached up to your other nipple, twisting it between his fingers. you squeezed your thighs together, trying to bring yourself a little bit of relief.
rafe tsked, he pulled away from your tits, the loss of contact making you whimper. though he moved down, spreading your thighs apart as he left a trail of wet kisses down your stomach. he hovered over you, the spot you needed him most radiating heat.
he smirked at you, bringing his thumb to circle around your clit softly through your panties. "rafe, please," you whined out.
"please what, baby? use your words." he taunted.
"need you to touch me." your slightly swollen lips forming into a pout.
he couldn't deny you now, not when you looked so sweet, so needy, like an angel sent just for him. "that's my good girl." he said as he pulled down your last bit of clothing, revealing your wet cunt to him.
"such a pretty pussy." you couldn't tell if rafe was speaking to you or to himself. he gazed at your core like a starved man. in a swift motion, he brought his arms underneath your legs, hooking them over his shoulders as his lips attached to your clit. your breath caught in your throat, the moans that fell from your lips were impossible to silence.
he groaned as your fingers moved down to tug at his hair, the vibrations causing you to screw your eyes shut tightly. he could never, would never get tired of tasting you.
his cock throbbed against his boxers. he began grinding his hips against his mattress, you could have sworn it was the hottest thing you'd ever seen.
"need you inside of me, please." you whined out, trying to pull him up closer to you. he pulled away from your dripping mess, meeting your lips with his. his tongue pried its way into your mouth, making you taste yourself.
you tugged at his boxers, moving the fabric down so his cock sprung out. the sight of him, red with pre-cum smeared around the tip, only encouraged you further. you pushed them as far down as you could reach and he helped you out by taking them off.
"lay back." he demanded, and you complied. he licked his lips at your nude body, "you're so perfect. all mine. my angel."
he grabbed his cock, pumping it a few times before he lined it up with your cunt. the initial push in stole your breath away. the stretch of him always taking you a moment to get used to. he moved slowly, hips going inch by inch until he was all the way inside of you.
"fuck, sweetheart. always so fuckin' good for me." he bit his lip as he groaned.
"please, rafe. need you to move." he didn't think he could deny you anything when you spoke like that, not that he would ever want to. he moved back, pulling away until just the tip remained inside of you, before thrusting back in all the way.
your back arched at the feeling. he filled you perfectly. the sound of his balls slapping against your ass and both of your moans filled the room. they bounced off the walls, echoing your need for each other. he grabbed the backs of your knees, folding your legs up so you were nearly in half. the new position allowed him to reach a deeper angle.
"rafe, feels- feels so good. missed you s'much." he sped up his thrusts at your whimpers. he was overcome by the lust that swirled around his head, clouding his thoughts so he couldn't think of a single thing other than how amazing you felt wrapped around him.
when rafe brought his thumb down to your clit, you saw stars. you felt tears come to your eyes at the overwhelming pleasure.
"just like that, just like that, please. 'm so close." rafe's eyes rolled back at your pleas. the way you begged him made him pushed him closer and closer to his peak.
"cum for me, my sweet girl. cum around my cock, you've been doing so good f'me. i'm right behind you." his permission is what send you over the edge. your walls clenched around him as you threw your head back, your vision going white. you yelled out his name, telling the entire world that you were his and he was yours.
rafe was telling the truth, seconds after you fluttered around him he gave one last thrust into you. he held you close to him as his cock pulsed inside of you, filling you up with his cum.
"i love you. i love you. i love you." he moaned out as he orgasmed. his words were a promise to you. he's loved you since the day he met you, nothing could ever change that.
you both breathed heavily as he fell next to you. his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to his chest as he kissed your forehead. you looked up at him, giving him a tired, but very satisfied, smile. he couldn't help but give you one in return. the rafe you'd missed so dearly was back, you saw him in the way he looked at you now.
"as badly as i don't want you to get up, you need to go pee." he reminded you gently, giving you a soft pat on your butt.
you groaned, "think you need to carry me. my legs aren't gonna work right now."
rafe let out a laugh, a genuine laugh. it was your favorite sound in the world, it made your heart flutter like you were a school girl who was just noticed by her crush for the first time.
he picked you up, walking you over to his bathroom as he set you down on the toilet. he cleaned himself up and put a clean pair of boxers on, grabbing a new t-shirt for you to sleep in.
that night you fell asleep in his arms. you didn't need to take a benzo to sleep. you didn't pass out with tear-stains on your cheeks or your throat sore from crying. you slept through the entire night, not once having a nightmare that ended in an explosive breakup between you and rafe. and in the morning, when you woke up, rafe was right next to you. he was asleep, his features being illuminated by the morning sun, his limbs tangled with yours, his gentle breathing that had his chest rising and falling beneath your head, it was all him. it was perfect. you couldn't stop the large smile that spread across your face, you could stay like this forever. mornings with him will always be your favorite, after all.
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azzibuckets · 3 days
Text
drunken confessions [pazzi]
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
a/n: azzi’s appearance in this is heavily inspired by her sexy ass damelio fit .. also i feel like this is very similar to my wisdom teeth blurb lol…anyways my mind is so fucked rn like i’m about to fall asleep and the ending makes no sense wyf
summary: azzi drinks just a bit too much and confesses things to paige that neither of them are ready to hear yet
word count: 1.7k
part 2 | masterlist
Paige knew she had no right to be jealous over Azzi. Azzi was her best friend, had been her best friend since they were little twerps in high school. They’d both dated other guys and girls, had changed in front of each other, did all the typical shit that normal best friends did. But this fiery pit at the bottom of her stomach, stoked from seeing Azzi grind on a random stranger that had bought her a drink earlier that night, had started to become an achingly familiar feeling over the last few months.
As soon as the sickeningly bright orange sex on the beach had landed in front of Azzi, the bartender nodding his head at the pretty blonde unashamedly staring from across the bar, Paige had retreated into her shell, brooding in the corner of the room and rejecting all her teammates’ invitations to sing karaoke or play pool, things she normally did with glee. And when she saw the blonde approach Azzi, brushing her hand against her best friend’s shoulder and guiding her to the dance floor where she held her hips as they danced, the pit in her stomach had become a furious tornado.
Paige swished the last few drops of beer in her glass around, trying to look at anything but her best friend. But she made the mistake of looking up for one more glance, and locked eyes with Azzi, who smirked as if she knew, and started making her way over.
“Babe,” Azzi slurred. As she got closer, Paige saw the glazed over look in her eyes, the sway in her step, and the red flush in her cheeks, undoubtedly due to the copious amounts of tequila that she’d downed that night. “Babe,” Azzi repeated when she got closer. “What’s got you all grouchy over here?”
Paige looked away, unable to control the fury expanding in her chest from seeing Azzi casually getting so intimidate with another woman. “Nothing,” she muttered. “Why don’t you go back to your girlfriend?”
“My girlfriend?” Azzi reached for Paige, who brought a hand up to steady her. But before she knew it, Azzi was leaning even closer, overwhelming the blonde with the scent of her vanilla perfume combined with the sour odor of alcohol. Azzi hooked her leg around Paige’s and oh. She was now fully sitting on her lap, her hips straddling Paige’s, looking down at her with an intensity that Paige didn’t recognize.
“Az,” Paige said lowly. “What are you doing?” She didn’t make a move to change their positions though, instead placing her hands on Azzi’s waist.
In the recent months, their dynamic had shifted, and both of them knew it. They’d gradually allowed themselves to touch each other in ways that were dangerously far from platonic, but they’d had a silent agreement, a tension binding them together to not show this intimacy to anyone else, to not let anyone else see it because this, whatever this was, was only for themselves.
But now Azzi was breaking this silent pact, was all over Paige’s lap in front of throngs of college students, looking at Paige in a way that electrified her entire body.
“What?” Azzi challenged. She rolled her hips for a moment, allowing herself to grind down on the blonde. “You want me to leave?”
“Fuck,” Paige hissed, looking up at her with half lidded eyes. Azzi had never looked sexier, her hair in long braids falling down her back, a light sheen of sweat covering her neck, her lips plump and pouting. “Don’t you dare fucking leave. I’m jus’ saying, we shouldn’t be doing this right now.” Paige might’ve had a beer, but she was still acutely aware of the looks they were gathering from their teammates, who could sense the sexually charged air between them as Azzi grinded down again on Paige’s lap, eliciting a soft moan from the blonde.
“You don’t want me?” Azzi’s voice was hard. Her hands found her way to the ends of Paige’s shirt, grabbing and scrunching the cotton as she brought her face closer to Paige’s, breathing heavily.
Paige groaned as she let her hands travel over her best friend’s body. Azzi was wearing a crop top that barely covered her boobs, showing the sharp lines of her abdomen. Paige traced her fingers down Azzi’s stomach, relishing the way Azzi’s muscles flexed and hardened under her touch. The blonde bit her lip as she caught sight of the younger girl’s shiny belly piercing. She sent a quick prayer of thanks to the gods for whoever invented such a sexy piece of jewelry. “Azzi, you’re making this so hard for me right now,” she breathed.
Azzi stiffened, her expression now cold and distant. “Fine,” she said calmly. “I’ll just go back and dance with some other girl.” She got up to move, but Paige’s hands gripped her waist even tighter and firmly pulled her down, until every inch of their bodies was connected, their hips fitted together like perfect puzzle pieces.
“No,” Paige said roughly. “You’re going home now. With me.”
Azzi squirmed, trying to get out of Paige’s grasp. “You can’t control me,” she said threateningly. “I’m having a good time. Stop being such a party pooper.”
“I’m cutting you off,” Paige said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re wasted as shit and you’re gonna feel like hell during practice tomorrow. You should be thanking me.” She stood up, lifting Azzi off her lap.
Azzi, clearly annoyed, moved to turn around and return to the dance floor, but Paige grabbed her wrist. “Azzi Fudd,” she gritted through her teeth. “Stop making a scene.”
“Paige,” the younger girl whined, stomping her foot like a little child. When Paige fixed her with an icy glare, Azzi finally relented, allowing herself to be pulled through the crowd until they exited the stuffy bar, the frigid Connecticut air hitting their faces.
Paige led Azzi to the car. She helped her into the passenger seat, reaching over her to buckle her seatbelt. As the lap belt clicked into the buckle, Azzi leaned in, putting her mouth against her ear. “I love it when you do that.”
Paige shivered at the feeling of Azzi’s breath tickling her cheek, her lips gently brushing her earlobe. “Do what?”
“Take care of me.” Azzi bit her lip sensually, so drunk she was unaware of the effects she was having on the older girl. “No one does it like you.”
“I’d hope so,” Paige chuckled dryly. “I’m your best friend.”
Azzi’s eyes glinted, her smile sharp. “We both know we aren’t just that.”
Paige recoiled, her mouth slightly dropped at Azzi’s acknowledgement of the tension between the two of them. They’d been dancing around each other for so long, both of them refusing to explicitly mention the fact their dynamic hadn’t been the same for a while. It was almost comforting, this middle ground where neither of them was obligated to make a move and they could just go with the flow. But with just a few words, Azzi had let all of the pretenses come crashing down. “Let’s just go home,” Paige said finally, shutting the passenger door resolutely.
Azzi leaned her head against the window, hoping to absorb some of the coolness of the glass and relieve her pounding headache. She looked at Paige, who was staring straight ahead as she drove, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were turning white.
“You’re really fucking great.”
Paige’s expression remained stony, but the muscle in her jaw flickered. “Mhm.”
“And you’re so gorgeous. And I know you know that, cos all the girls online are all over you. But none of them can see how beautiful you really are. None of them know you like I do.” Azzi paused. “I think about you all the time, and whenever I do I get this warm fucking feeling in my chest that won’t go away no matter how hard I try and-,”
“Stop.” Paige hit the brake pedal a little bit too hard, and the car jolted. “Stop it, Azzi. We’re not gonna talk about your feelings until you’re sober, alright?”
“No, I need you to know. I’ve been keeping this to myself for so long and it hurts so fucking bad not being able to kiss you.” They were at the apartments now, and Paige aggressively put the car in park before rubbing her face with her hands.
“You should stop talking before you wake up tomorrow and regret everything you say,” Paige warned, helping her best friend out of the car and into their home.
Azzi swiveled, pushing Paige against the wall. “I won’t,” she said defiantly. “I won’t regret it.”
Paige looked at her with such soft eyes, and Azzi bit down hard on the inside of her cheek, trying to keep the tears from leaking out. Paige brought her thumb up, softly stroking it against Azzi’s cheek. “You’re too special,” Paige said breathily. “You’re too special to me for us to have this conversation while you’re wasted like this.”
Azzi’s eyebrows furrowed. “Can I at least kiss you?”
The blonde laughed at that, gently pushing Azzi away to create more space between them. “Not like this.”
Azzi pouted then, and Paige had to put her hand over her mouth to physically stop from laughing, an action she knew would upset Azzi even more. “How ‘bout tomorrow?” the dark haired girl suggested, a dopey smile on her face. “We can kiss then? I’ll be sober, I swear.”
Paige’s smile faltered, and she crossed her arms, as if to restrain herself from reaching out to Azzi again. “I don’t know if you’ll wanna do that, Az,” Paige said, her voice gentle.
“Why wouldn’t I?” Azzi’s hands were on her hips, a questioning look on her face.
“Because we both know you’re not ready to address whatever the fuck we are.” Paige looked away. “If you were ready, you wouldn’t be telling me all this while you were wasted. You’d have the guts to be mature and tell me sober.”
“That’s not fair.” Azzi sounded choked. “This isn’t easy, Paige. We’ve been friends for so long. How am I supposed to be okay with the fact that we can never go back to what we were before?”
“That’s why when we wake up in the morning, I know you’re gonna ignore me and pretend like this never happened.” Paige brushed hair out of Azzi’s eyes, letting her fingertips linger as they touched her temple. “I know you, Azzi. You run away from your problems. This won’t be any different.”
Azzi’s arms fell to her side. “Maybe if you stopped making assumptions then this wouldn’t be so difficult.”
A tired smile formed on Paige’s lips. “It’s late, Azzi. We’re both exhausted and grumpy. Can we just go to sleep and figure it out in the morning?”
Azzi opened her mouth to argue, but realized that the older girl wouldn’t budge. “Fine,” she grumbled. “Whatever.” She stormed off into her room, making sure to slam the door loudly behind her. She knew she was being immature, but she hated how stubbornly cynical Paige was being, acting as if there was no chance that they could work out.
Azzi laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling until she was in that half asleep state, mind hazy with the beginnings of dreams but still slightly conscious. She almost thought it was a dream when Paige slipped into her room, standing over her with a pensive expression on her face. She thought it was a dream when Paige bent down, planting a kiss to her forehead and stroking her braids. “P?” She murmured, rolling to her side.
“Whatever happens between us, just know that I love you.”
“Nothing bad will happen.” Azzi yawned, still unsure of whether she was asleep or not. She buried her face in Paige’s shirt, and Paige wordlessly climbed into her bed, joining her under the cover and wrapping herself around the younger girl, resting her chin onto her head.
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suplicyy · 2 days
Text
[Prompt Series pt.1] Tsukishima helping you with your hair
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Summary — Tsukishima helping the reader dry and brush their hair after a shower.
— Fluff
— Gn!Reader
— Implied reader with hair below shoulders!!
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This week was especially tiring for the two of you, his training getting more and more intense, and you being super busy with your own club. And since today is Saturday, Tsukishima will sleep at your house and spend the next day resting by your side.
You were now in your room, well... it was actually just he who was in your room, you were taking a shower while he waited for you to come out of the bathroom. While waiting for you, Tsukishima's mind was a little hazy.
Because there's one thing that the blonde can't get out of his head: your hair.
No matter how busy you are or how busy your day is, your hair always looks flawless. You are someone who is very vain about your own appearance, but you always took extra care with your hair. Just looking at you the people can tell how soft your hair is, plus it always has a shine that would blind anyone who looked at you.
And Tsukishima noticed it too.
He doesn't know if it's due to neediness or the lack of attention you've been receiving from each other due to your busy schedule, but he's felt like just lying down with you and burying his face in your hair, smelling your mesmerizing shampoo. But of course he would never admit that to you, it's Tsukishima after all.
His thoughts are interrupted when you enter the room, heading towards your desk. "Tsukki, help me find my hairbrush please, I can't find it anywhere..." You say looking at him with a pout, frustrated that you couldn't find what you wanted. He nods his head in confirmation, and helps you look for your hairbrush; It didn't take long to find the blessed thing that was hidden at the bottom of a drawer, so Tsukishima hands it to you. "Thanks Tsukki!!" you say in an excited tone, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, which soon turns a light shade of pink.
You then turn around to start combing your hair, an act that Tsukishima watches closely. From the ends to the top of your head, you untangle the small knots that have accumulated in your hair.
"Do you...want help?"
You turn around in surprise, looking at the boy with his head down, not making eye contact with you. "What?" you ask curiously, your mind too tired to process the reason for the question.
"Your hair... you want me to help you?" you watch him say this with a light blush on his cheek. You are surprised, but soon your expression softens with a sweet smile. And without saying anything, you approach him and with a gesture you ask him to extend his hand; and when he does, you put your hairbrush in his hands and sit next to him on the bed, turning your back to him.
He then tries to copy the way you were brushing your hair previously, taking a section and combing it from the bottom up gently. As he repeats the process on other parts of your hair, he notices how soft it is to the touch, the softness being the result of a long hydration that you did before going to the shower
When he finishes combing your hair, Tsukishima notices that your wet hair resting on your shoulders is dripping, seeing as you hadn't dried it yet. Then without saying anything, he gets up and goes towards your closet, taking one of your dry towels. And gently, he dries the ends of your hair; and as soon as he finishes, he sets the towel aside and places a small kiss on the top of your head, making you blush.
"Tsukki, are you by any chance sick?"
"Of course not, why?"
"It's just that you're being so affectionate with me today." you say in a teasing tone, laughing lightly.
"...Aren't you going to apply that hair cream you always use?" He says trying to divert the topic.
You notice that he avoided your question and laugh lightly, but you don't bring up the subject again. "I only use it when I go out, it's good to leave my hair without the cream sometimes, so it can rest a little." He responds with a small "um" as he hugs you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder.
You close your eyes, enjoying the light moment of affection that the two of you rarely experience, since Tsukishima is not someone that affectionate.
But little do you know that from that day on, this little moment would become a routine to escape the tiring days both of you spend.
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A/N — Hey guys!! In case any of you haven't seen my previous post, I'll explain what I'm planning to do:
I'm getting random fanfic prompts through a website, and random characters that are chosen from a roulette wheel. And then I'll put together the chosen prompt + chosen character, and make a fanfic out of that.
I'm mainly doing this to improve my writing here, so there's no set deadline/maximum number of fanfics I can make. And if I win a request, I will prioritize making the request above anything else I write!!
Anyway, I hope you liked it!! And I'm sorry if it wasn't so good...😭😭
— Prompt chosen for this post: Person A helping Person B dry and brush their hair after a shower.
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moamidzyism · 1 day
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too much (k.th)
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wc. 3087
summary. when your ex-boyfriend shows up at your door, the last thing you want to do is to let him in. but his phone is dead, and the storm outside isn’t letting up anytime soon, and he really needs some dry clothes (and a warm body)
genre. angst + smut
tags. minors DNI!!! taehyun x fem!reader, exes to lovers, unprotected sex
a/n. the long awaited honeymoon avenue part two!! thank you for being patient with me for this. i’m so happy it’s actually done!
more of my work
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he’s standing outside your door, his hair and clothes drenched by the relentless downpour, an awkward smile clinging to his face like a mask. his soaked clothes also cling onto his frame and your mind swarms with confusion and frustration.
“what are you doing here?” you demand.
ignoring your question, he looks past you. his eyes fixated on the warmth emanating from your cozy, dry apartment. without waiting for an invitation, he asks, “can i come in?” reluctantly, you step aside. not because you really wanted him there, but because you wanted to shield your wooden floors from the relentless storm outside.
the wetness that clung to him mirrored the unresolved tension between you – heavy, uncomfortable, cold.
“thank you,” he mumbles, shedding himself of his sodden jacket and hanging it on your coat rack. the wetness drips onto your floors but he doesn’t acknowledge it. instead he pushes his usually meticulously styled hair, out of his face, where it clung in disarray.
your irritation grows as you press him again. “taehyun, again, what are you doing here?”
“i was in the area, and the storm started. this was the only place i knew that was nearby,” he casually explains.
“you live half an hour away from here.” he shrugs again, as if everything had lost its significance in the face of the storm outside, even space, time, and the months of silence between the two of you. “let me get you some dry clothes,” you relent. you disappear into your room. a brief flashback to your painful breakup flickers in your mind.
you looked at your phone again. it had been five minutes since you last called him and forty five minutes since he was supposed to meet you at the restaurant. he was the one who had originally planned to come here, but fifteen missed calls and twenty five unread text messages later, he was nowhere to be seen. and once again, you looked like the idiot who actually believed that your boyfriend was capable of changing.
you looked up at your waiter, who shot you an apologetic glance. gathering your things, you walked out the restaurant, but not before leaving a fifty dollar tip to your waiter for the second hand embarrassment he probably faced that evening on your behalf.
you fished around the back of your closet for old clothes and grabbed a towel from your dresser. you return to the living room and hand him the towel without a word. he takes it, you fingers brushing briefly. he dries his face and his hair, his eyes never leaving you. you try your hardest to avoid eye contact with him. another crash of thunder rumbles through the house, and for a moment, you both look towards the sound.
when your gazes return to each other, you shove the dry clothes towards him. taehyun’s eyes linger on the clothes, an extra large pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. he quirks an eyebrow and scoffs. “moved on already?”
“they are my brother’s,” you respond bluntly, a subtle defiance in your tone. “and you can leave when the storm clears up.” you leave him to change in solitude. the storm outside rages and you can’t shake the feeling that this unexpected reunion might dredge up more than just old memories.
you got home that night and stripped yourself of the new dress that you had just gotten earlier that day. you ought to burn it. any reminder of the humiliation you just faced had to disappear off the face of the earth. you checked your phone, seeing if taehyun had finally remembered that you existed or finally decided that you were worthy of a response. but the only notification you had received in the time since you left the restaurant was an email with a free shipping coupon from an online store that you swore to never shop at again.
you turned off your phone and went to bed. there was no point in staying up, checking your phone every five minutes to see if he would actually text you back. tomorrow, you decided, you will be done with taehyun, for good this time.
you are pulled out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on your bedroom door. you look up to see your ex-boyfriend standing in his newly dried clothes. “hey,” he says softly, his hands finding a home on the back of his neck. his gaze is uncertain, as if he’s not entirely sure how you will receive him.
“yes?” he slowly opens the door further.
“i just wanted to apologize for what i said earlier.” he cautiously inches towards you.
“it’s fine, tae.” you take a deep breath, your voice softening ever so slightly. he stops himself from smiling at the use of the nickname.
“no, it’s not fine,” he begins. “you let me into your house and i insult you after ten minutes of being here.” he shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to bear the weight of your gaze.
“taehyun, what are you doing here?” a note of frustration creeps into your voice.
“i wanted to see you.” he replies simply.
you run your hands through your hair. “god, i can’t do this right now.” you say, mostly to yourself – a reminder, almost, that you cannot let yourself fall for him again.
“i’m sorry, i just…” his voice trails off, as if he is struggling to find the right words to say.
“you can’t just show up like this, taehyun. it’s not fair.” you sigh again. “it’s not fair to either of us.”
as each second of this conversation passes, he sees the stress lines deepen on your face. he slumps his shoulders. “i know, and i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have come here unannounced, especially with everything that happened between us.” he cannot meet your piercing gaze. “but the rain just reminded me of that night after my parents, and i couldn’t get you out of my head. i just had to see you.”
when you got to the hotel that night, he went straight to the front desk and asked the receptionist for a cot to be delivered to your room. in the room, he went straight to the bathroom, not saying a word to you.
you couldn’t figure him out – was he mad at you? did he not want to talk to you because he thought you didn’t want to talk to him? regardless, you slip out of your wet clothes and sit on the desk chair waiting for him to get out of the bathroom. when he does, you shower, trying so hard to scrub off the entire evening from your body.
stepping out of the shower, you took a look at yourself in a wiped out section of the obscured mirror. your face was exhausted and your eyes were red and puffy. you slipped into your pajamas and returned to the bedroom to find all the lights and taehyun fast asleep on the cot.
“i fucked up; i know i did,” he looks at you now, trying to find some glimmer of hope that you could forgive him. “but i just needed to see you – talk to you. i’ve been thinking a lot about us and about what went wrong.”
you swallowed hard, the memories of your break up still fresh in your mind. you know it doesn’t matter. you know that you can’t change what happened. you even know that getting an actual answer would ruin all the work you had done to get over him. but against everything in you, you ask him, “why didn’t you show up?”
“what?”
“at the restaurant, why didn’t you come?” you feel a pang in your chest, the familiar ache of unresolved feelings bubbling up to the surface. “taehyun, you just let me wait there. you didn’t call me or text me, not even the next morning.”
“i don’t know. i’m sorry.”
you’re not sure why you asked or what you even wanted from him. you just wanted the pain to end and part of you hoped that he could end it. but you had come to learn not to expect much from taehyun. “you can’t keep saying that every time you hurt me.”
“i know, but i mean it.” he inches closer to you, hoping that by seeing him and the regret that marks his face, you would let him in again.
and it almost works.
you almost forgive him but your better mind fights with all its might to keep your hand, that is itching to reach out for him, down. “i should get you a blanket.” you stand up from the bed and move over to your closet to fish for a spare blanket. you give it to him and you go your separate ways for the night – him on the couch and you in the quiet of your bedroom.
you lay in bed, trying hard to fall asleep but your mind drifts to the man in your living room, wondering if he is still awake, thinking about you. you stare at the space underneath your door. after what feels like thirty minutes, the hallway light suddenly turns off.
you get out of bed to see what caused the power outage. when you open the door, you see taehyun outside your room with his phone flashlight glaring right at you. you jump back in surprise. “what are you doing?”
“sorry,” he quickly apologizes, stepping back. “sorry, the power went out and i came to see if you had a candle or something. i didn’t want to keep using my phone because it’s about to die.”
you go to your bathroom and bring out a cheap scented candle to the living room. “this is the only thing i have.”
the two of you sit on the couch together, the worn fabric feels familiar beneath you. the candle sits on the coffee table between you, casting an uneven glow onto your faces. the wind howls outside, rattling the window panes of your small living room.
this scene, with the uncomfortable silence as you both shift in your seats, is almost laughable. you pull your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly as you stare at the flickering flame. occasionally your eyes flick to him, tentative, as if gauging the right moment to speak.
“did i wake you up?” taehyun finally fills the silence.
“no,” you begin, scratching the back of your neck. “i couldn’t sleep.”
lightning flashes, followed by a loud crash of thunder. you wince, your hands gripping around your legs tighter. he moves closer to you, his hand finding yours, intertwining his fingers with yours. you close your eyes for a moment, focusing on the feeling of his hands – the warmth and familiarity of his touch.
when you opened your eyes, you loosened your grip on his hands. “sorry, about that.”
he shrugs it off, “i forgot you were scared of thunder.”
“yeah,” you sit up straight. taehyun doesn’t move from his position next to you.
“maybe it was a good thing that i showed up after all.”
you couldn’t even try to stifle your laughter. “yeah, you’re my knight in shining armor.” you joke.
“i’m just saying, what would you have done if i wasn’t here with you and the power went out?”
“if you weren’t here i’d probably be asleep, i wouldn’t have noticed it.”
“you wouldn’t have noticed the power went out?” taehyun teases you. “you’re the lightest sleeper i know.”
you don’t know why you allowed yourself fall back into comfortable conversation with him but everything goes by in a blur and suddenly you’re laying on the couch with taehyun hovering over your body. he slowly closes the distance between your bodies. he puts his hands on either side of you, giving you no option but to stare deeply into his big brown eyes. “tell me to stop and i will,” he whispers. “hell, i’ll even leave right now. i’ll go home and never bother you again. just tell me to stop.”
his eyes scan your face and you gulp at the feeling of his eyes gravitating towards your lips. “i don’t want you to stop.” you move slowly towards him, part of you hesitant to close the gap between the two of you, because closing the gap means willingly opening yourself up for him to hurt you again.
but when you see how the candlelight twinkles in his eyes, it’s easy for the other part of you to ignore your fears. it’s this part of you that pulls him into a passionate kiss, your hands delicately cupping his face.
your hands slide underneath his shirt but he stops you. your brows furrow in confusion. “what are you doing?” you ask him.
“i just need you to know that i’m sorry.”
“i know,” you run your hands through his now slightly damp hair. “i know you are, baby.”
he brings you upwards to gently peck your lips before leaning you back against the arm of the couch again. you pull him to kiss you again and as the kiss depeens, he takes the opportunity to suck on your lower lip, using his hand to slowly graze your covered breasts. you arch your back, bringing your chest closer to his body.
“i missed you,” taehyun confesses in between the kiss. “i missed you so fucking much.”
“me too,” you mirror him pathetically. all of your sense and self restraint flew out the window. taehyun stands, lifting you effortlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist. he leans in to kiss you again. you respond eagerly, parting your lips to make way for his. he holds you tightly as he leads you away from the dimly lit living room towards the darkness of your bedroom. your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him even closer as if afraid that he might vanish.
the two of you stumble through the hallway, bumping into walls, laughing breathlessly between kisses. taehyun pins you against the wall. your back hits the wall with a gentle thud, and you gasp, giving him a moment for his lips trailing along your jawline and down your neck. you tilt your head back, closing your eyes, a soft moan escaping your lips. he tugs at your sweatshirt, pulling it over your head in one swift motion, throwing it somewhere on the floor behind him.
you arch into him, and your bodies mold together as you inch closer to your bedroom. taehyun pushes the door open with his food, stepping inside and laying you gently on the bed. you pull him down with you. “i need you.” you breathe out. you feel his hard dick through the fabric of his sweatpants. you squeeze him tightly, the way you know he likes it and you’re reassured when he gasps.
you don’t remember the last time you felt like this, like a horny teenager, sneaking a boy who should not be there into your bedroom, doing everything you can to get off. but regardless, taehyun feeds off your excitement, hoping that by you releasing your inhibitions with him, there still remains even a one percent chance that he can slide back into your life as you always let him.
you let taehyun guide his cock inside of you, anticipation and excitement fills your entire body when he pushes in. he takes all of you in, pressing his lips against yours as he slides in. you’re both moaning pitifully into each other’s mouths. you hate to admit how much you wish you could go back to when you guys were together. there’s just something about him being here in your bed with you that feels so normal, so natural, so good. for a second, you allow yourself to forget all the bad parts about your relationship – all the arguments and the fights, all the late nights waiting for him to come home, all the longing and all the pain. for a second, you only focus on how good he’s making you feel right now.
he wastes no time in picking up the speed, knowing how desperate for him you must be. your nails dig into the skin on his back, holding him closer to you. “you’re so big,” you moaned.
“i know baby,” he cooed. he’s so big inside of you. your walls haven’t felt this stretch in so long and you can’t stop yourself from clenching around him with every thrust. the way he grunts into your ear from the exertion has you clamping around him even more. “you’re so perfect to me,” he says between each thrust. “so so perfect for me.”
blood rushes up to your face and you try to hide it in the pillow by your side but taehyun turns your head. “i wanna see your face,” he says with a smirk on his face. he knows you fold every time he looks at you and of course you quickly nod your head, bringing his body closer to you with your legs.
his pace is unrelenting; you can’t last another second. you can’t stop yourself from crying out his name as a wave of ecstasy washes over you. he lets your walls spasm around his dick erratically as his hands press into your hips to hold you in place. taehyun realizes that he’s still weak for you when he sees your orgasm take over.
taehyun quickly cums too. “i love you,” he says as he does, finishing inside of you, his hips stilling as you milk him dry.
taehyun comes back down to earth first, slipping out of you, but still holding you close to his sweaty body as he lays back on the bed beside you, wrapping his arm around you. it takes a while for you to join him, but when the hallway light flickers as he whispers i love you, you quickly come back down in a panic. your body freezes up as you try to wrap your head around what just happened.
beside you, taehyun notices your change. he starts caressing your arm, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your chin, every part of your face he can reach, anything he can do to make you go back to how you were just a few moments ago. you allowed yourself to fall into his trap, do as he wanted. you snuggled closer to him and allowed yourself to be lulled to sleep by the sound of his breathing slowing down.
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