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#but his hair is so annoying god bless
dex1o · 3 months
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"This isn't 'trivial'!"
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allfearstofallto · 2 months
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Sleeping Like the Dead
Yandere! Diluc x Fem! Reader
Forced marriage AU
Word Count: 2.3k
Synopsis: Diluc craves your body like a drug, but the only time he can get you, is when you're fast asleep
TW: NSFW, Somnophila, Non-Con, Masturbation (.male), Oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of breeding/finishing inside
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The only thing that could seem to wake you was thunder. A loud crash and the windows shaking, followed by howling wind, and you'd be up shivering in fear. You'd lie back down once you realized what the noise that woke you was, and you were out like a light. Deep in slumber, snoring ever so softly.
Even though you were married on paper, you and Diluc never shared a marital bed. The marriage was never consummated and the most he'd ever seen of your body was your legs and maybe even a sliver of your stomach in the summer. Other than that, you stayed dressed head to toe like a nun.
He knew it was his fault that you were like this. Being forced into marriage with him, you didn't even want to tempt his urges. You were told time and time again that nothing would happen, not while you didn't want it, but he was failing to believe that himself.
It was when he saw you one night, after you'd just gotten out of the bath. Normally, he stayed in his room at nightfall, but now, he was particularly thirsty. Whether it was good luck or the gods actually blessing him for once, he saw you go into your room and close the door behind you.
Did he buy you those nightgowns? If he did, he definitely didn't remember doing so. But the red haired man did buy you whatever you wanted, no questions asked. So maybe you'd managed to slip an order in for them without him noticing. And archons how he wished he'd noticed.
The swell of your breasts, the curve of your ass, plush thighs and skin still steaming from your bath. You didn't notice him standing in front of the door to his room, but he noticed you. A brief glance was all it took, light work for anyone else who'd been married for as long as you two had, but it was the first time he's seen so much of you, and he felt his pants tighten at the sight.
He stormed back into his room while the memory was still fresh, not even bothering to make it to the bed. The door slammed shut behind him, he pressed his back against it and dropped his pants to his ankles.
It felt like electricity all over his body as he stroked his cock, eyes rolling back, tongue out his mouth. Diluc wasn't a prude, he masturbated when he deemed it necessary, which was when he got erections that were particularly stubborn and annoying, but this was the first time in his life that it'd ever felt so good.
It only took a few pumps and suddenly he was moaning into his hands, hips twitching as his cock shot ropes of cum onto his carpeted floor. He panted watching himself make this mess, but his mind shifted onto how you could clean it up. And his length refused to go soft. He fucked his fist for the rest of the night.
Diluc often heard stories of how hard it was to wake you up. That's when he learned how truly a heavy sleeper you were.
“The lady slept through breakfast again today,” a maid would say in a whisper. They thought he couldn't hear them, but as long as they weren't saying anything rude about you, he acted oblivious to it.
“She fell back asleep after I woke her up three times!”
“I called for her for a full five minutes, and she barely stirred,”
Temptation is a hell of a drug. Satisfaction is even more addicting. Maybe that's why he decided to visit your room one night. Hours after you'd left your bath and when he was sure you were asleep, he eased your door open and stepped inside. His heart was racing, afraid that you wouldn't be asleep, but instead sitting on the edge of your bed, waiting to confront him.
But you weren't. You were just like how he'd thought you’d be. Asleep in bed, lying on your stomach with your arms wrapped around a pillow and pulling it into a tight embrace. Your blanket was thrown haphazardly over your body, you obviously kicked a lot in your sleep, making it shuffle around.
Exhaling the quietest deep breath he could muster, he pulled that blanket to the side. Sure enough, like the maids said, you didn't stir, and much to his pleasure, you were wearing another one of those revealing nightgowns. With one leg slightly up, he could get a good glimpse of your round ass and your panties that seemed to be slipping between your moist lips.
He sucked in air through his teeth, taking in every inch of your body. Every curve, every soft piece of skin. He'd mentally promised himself this would be a one time thing. It felt awful invading your privacy like this, but his hormones were getting the better of him.
His cock was released from his pants and he began pumping it furiously. Biting his lip to hold back the moans once again, he watched the way your chest rose and fell as you slept. It only took a little bit and he was cumming, quicker than he ever had in his entire life and more intensely than he'd ever felt.
The rational part of his mind told him to leave no messes, so he made sure to cover the leaking tip of his cock with his hand to not spill his seed everywhere. Still, he couldn't help himself. He dipped a finger in his own cum, then pressed it against your slightly open mouth, wanting you to at least taste him a little.
The sight of you suckling that cum off his finger, lips pursed and wet with drool, the sight had him hard again already, but he decided against tempting fate. He'd finish himself off in his room again. This was a one time thing after all.
Was what he'd told himself, but he found himself in front of your door again, going to your room almost every night. It was like an addiction, standing in your room next to your sleeping form and fucking his cock into his hand while looking at you. And he grew bolder as the nights went on.
Moving your panties to the side to finally get a full view of that wet cunt, rubbing the tip of his cock against your lips to get you to suckle on it like before, he even managed to slip a finger inside your entrance, getting to feel your warm walls for the first time. The way you coated his fingers nearly made him grunt and he thrusted it in and out of you, watching your face contort in your sleep, little moans and mewls dropping from your lips.
Diluc imagined that it was his cock instead of his finger getting to fuck your pussy, that it was his cock making your eyebrows knit together and your fingers twitch. He could only imagine though, his other hand fisting his cock at the same pace as his finger.
He'd even gotten so bold as to start licking your cunt. His tongue poking out of his mouth, he'd tongue at your clit and watch you squirm in your sleep. Your taste was intoxicating, the juices your tight hole would secrete tasted better than what celestia would feel like, and while lapping up your folds between your legs, his dick would twitch and he'd cum inside his pants, completely untouched.
All good things must come to an end. A sad, but truthful statement. And Diluc wanted this to end. He really did. Each day he'd say that this would be the last one, that he wouldn't do this to you again, that it was becoming too risky, but sure enough he was back at your door the next day. He'd spend the whole night finding new ways to pleasure himself with your sleeping body.
All good things come to an end. Maybe he should've been thinking that when he arrived at your door on the night of a harsh thunderstorm. If his mind wasn't clouded by lust, if all his blood wasn't flowing to his lower regions, then maybe he would've remembered how particularly scared of thunderstorms you were. If his face wasn't buried between your legs again, then maybe he would've remembered the maids saying the only time you woke up easily, is when there was a storm and heavy wind outside. If he wasn't pumping his cock while licking at your pussy, going practically drunk from your taste, maybe he would've noticed that you'd begun to stir more than usual, more than out of a sleepy, unintentional pleasure.
The last thing Diluc was expecting was to look up and meet your gaze. With his lips still suctioned around your clit, your face was a mixture of disgust and mostly fear. Eyes wide and filled with tears, you opened your mouth, maybe to scream, maybe to yell at him, he didn't know. He was on top of you before you could let out a peep, one of his hands covering your mouth. After a bit of a struggle, he managed to use the other hand to hold both your wrists above your head.
“I'm- I'm sorry!” He gasped as you thrashed beneath him, but you were no match for his strength and all you were doing was wearing yourself out, “I-i swear! I don't know what came over me!”
But something has been coming over him for weeks, months even. If you knew how long he'd been doing this, you'd look at him in even more horror. Your eyes. So big and filled with tears, it only made his heart thump against his chest harder, but what else was he to do?
He laid on top of you, hand covering your mouth for what felt like hours, dick still twitching and conveniently between your folds. This was the worst time for him to be hard, not while you were awake. Not while you were scared of him to the point of crying, but he couldn't help it. It was you. You did this to him.
“I'm so so sorry,” he muttered as he angled his hips, the tip of his cock finally at your entrance. He didn't think your eyes could open any wider, but sure enough, they did when he forced every inch of himself inside you, bottoming out without stopping while pleading for your forgiveness. Your yelp, the noise you made as you were made to take him, was muffled by his palm, body squirming even more as you tried to get away.
He always said his first time with you would be gentle. It would be loving as passionate. He would take things slow and kiss every inch of you, to make sure you were ready for him. But the way you felt around him, the way you clenched around his length, it felt like his hips had a mind of their own as they started a rough, brutal pace. Slapping against yours so hard, even the headboard of the bed had begun to hit the wall.
“Fuck! Ahh! Fuck fuck! I'm so sorry! Hnng- please…ah! Please! I'm sorry,” he whined, but he didn't slow down for a second. You were so warm inside. So wet. This was made for him, he was sure of it, “Please, you- you hah- have to forgive me.”
You could thrash and squirm and cry as much as you wanted to, but Diluc had had his taste and he wouldn't be satisfied with any less anymore. He kept fucking into you, pounding you so hard, rutting his hips into you like an animal in heat.
You saw the way his eyelids flutter, you felt the way his hips stuttered, his pace grew sloppy, his grip loosened, drool fell from his lips, his moans grew breathier. You saw it all and you knew what was about to happen.
“Fuck,” he gasped between thrusts, eyes rolled back. He forced his dick as he could inside you, balls deep and held it there, feeling the way your silken walls contracted around it, “I'm gonna cum.”
There was no way to tell him no with his hand over your lips, so you were made to watch and feel in horror as he grew even more aggressive with his fucking. There were no thoughts behind his eyes, just pleasure, just lust and the primal urge to finish.
“Inside. Hah- aanh. Cumming inside, fuck!” He affirmed your fears through his filthy moans. His dick twitching inside you made your heart sink. You could feel it. The way his cum was spitting out of his length and hitting your walls. It felt neverending, like he'd stored so much waiting for this moment, some of it even spilling back out of your entrance and onto his balls.
Reality must've hit him after he came, because he was off of you in an instant. His length softened and his face filled with dread. Cum leaked onto your bedsheets, but despite the fact that he was no longer muffling you with his hands, you couldn't scream. You couldn't even think for a second as you realized what happened.
He looked just as scared as you did, but why? What gave him the right? Why did he deserve to be scared when he was the one who did it?
“I fucking hate you,” you spoke through strangled sobs and you watched his world crumble.
Those words felt like you were slicing his heart out and stabbing it over and over again. They made him tear up as well. But somehow, the sight of you, disheveled, with his seed leaking from your hole, somehow that made his dick twitch back to life. Even your crying face, while not as appealing as you sleeping peacefully, was gorgeous. Arousing even.
His cock twitched back to life as he looked upon you, half undressed and practically ready for him. He began a slow crawl towards you again, his urges wanting to take over once more. You already hated him. What was the harm in doing more?
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neuvistar · 2 months
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maryse girlie h..how do you think…biker!blade fucks you…
been thinkin’ abt this HARD 4 days nonstop god bless u anon
biker!blade x fem!reader. cw. blowie, cunniligus, use of nicknames, riding, v4ginal fingering, blade referred as “yingxing” twice(?), mentions of smoking n cigarettes. minors dni. (biker blade is my dream ride)
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BIKER!BLADE who is willing to fuck you anyway you want him to! you want him to eat you out? his tongue is already lapping at your warmth! you want him to fuck you from behind? he’s already ramming into you from behind tugging at your hair, you went him to finger you? his fingers are already teasing at your clit. it’s best to say that blade is willing to fuck you anytime any-day and any hour, as long as he’s in the mood for it!
BIKER!BLADE who would have you ride him on his lap while you both sat on his newest motorcycle he recently bought, hands squeezing at the fat of your ass.. that stupid coy smirk on his face. “this was your idea. why are you crying, pretty girl? can’t take big dick anymore? thought i stretched out this pussy enough.” god, he’s so annoying sometimes. you could tell he enjoyed taunting you, jerking his hips forward to thrust himself inside your overstimulated cunt, small tears streaming down your face with pure ecstasy you couldn’t explain, not even to the stars. “mm.. so how do you like this new motorcycle?” you wanted to open your mouth to speak, your words immediately got caught in your throat as a whine left instead when he began to pound your pretty pussy, his large hand gently placed on the back of your head.. that stupid smirk on his face. “well? do you like it?” “.. i— fuck.. i do!” “louder, angel. let me hear you.”
BIKER!BLADE would smoke often, it’s like every time you see him.. you always see him puffing up a cigarette. it’s hot to say the least, especially when you suck him off. he took a puff from his cigarette, the entire room smelled like complete bounce that ass a deep woody aroma, a scent that drove you crazy from how strong it was.. but you didn’t care much. blade gazed down on you from above, his cock throbbing in your mouth. cockhead hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. his hands gripped your hair tighter, pulling your head harder against his crotch, putting that damned cigarette near his lips again as he took another puff. your tongue swirled around his member desperately, feeling the veins of his cock brush against your wet muscle. “that’s it, keep going. keep sucking my cock until i’m done with this cigarette.” blade slowly leaned closer, bringing his voice down to a whisper. “.. it’s gonna take awhile. don’t take those eyes off of me, keep that pretty mouth on my cock.”
BIKER!BLADE is willing to try new things with you, especially if it meant fingering you beneath the moonlight at an empty parking lot. his fingers are good, you can’t deny that. he’s obsessed with fingering you, he loves how slick your pussy can get from his fingers alone, hips jerking forward to let you feel how hard he gets, a low yet deep chuckle rumbling from his throat. “what? you can’t take it? remember what i told you, baby.. big girls can take this. your pussy should be used to my fingers by now, c’mon.. show me that you’re a big girl.” curling his fingers within your pussy sent you in absolute shambles, the way he curled them could be enough for you to release all over his digits. the tip of his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. “nngh.. yingxing p-please..” you begged, your body aching for more. “don’t worry, angel.. i won’t stop until you’re screaming my name.” he increased the pace of his fingers, switching between rubbing your cunt and thrusting his fingers inside, his chin on your shoulder as he held you firmly against him.. his hair brushing against your skin.
BIKER!BLADE who would set you down on his motorcycle and eat you out, keeping a soft and firm grip on your hips so you don’t fall! to be honest, i’m sure you’d be afraid of tipping over because of how good he was getting in there. blade couldn't help but marvel at the sight before you, your body.. your skin glistening with sweat and desire. his tongue, the instrument of your delight continued its dance, each flick and lick drawing moans from your lips. be could feel your body tremble, each shudder making him harder, wanting to tease you further. “such a sweet girl you are, huh? letting me eat your pussy while your juices drip right on my motorcycle.” a low chuckle left his throat as he gazed at you, your eyes closed, your face a picture of ecstasy. “y—yingxing.. ‘m gonna fall..” you murmured softly, your body arched like a silent plea for more, and he couldn't resist. he plunged his tongue deep inside you, savoring the taste of your arousal. “oh you’re gonna be fine, sweetheart. just sit there and look pretty for me.”
BIKER!BLADE who would have such good stamina. not only does he have stamina on the roads, he has stamina in the sheets too. “ugh.. fuck this pussy’s good, angel. can’t get enough of it.” his erection was hard and ready, your eyes locking onto him with a hunger that matched his own. blade positioned himself between your legs, his gaze never leaving yours. “again?” you asked, your voice breathy and soft. that same cocky grin that belied his nerves. "always for you, angel. this dick is yours, so take it.”
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@ NEUVISTAR. do not plagiarize, claim my work as your own, translate or share my posts on any platform outside of tumblr.
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cntloup · 3 months
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"I've always loved you." is so bestfriend!Simon... but the words never leave his mouth. Every time they come close, only an epsilon away from seeping through his lips, he shuts them closed, biting back the words.
But the way he looks at you, as though you're a goddess blessing him with your grace and beauty. Your presence surrounds him and there's nothing else... only you.
The way he speaks to you in a soft, warm voice in contrast to his cold and commanding tone with others.
The way he focuses on you and only you whenever you rant about something that's bothering you, some annoying coworker or a new obsession, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear.
He's there whenever you need him with anything. Sometimes you don't even have to ask. He's always there for you. Something needs fixing at your apartment? Already done. Ran out of groceries? Refrigerator and cabinets filled. Used up all your favorite skin products? Already bought and placed on your vanity table with spares in the bathroom cabinet.
And god forbid, someone keeps harassing you. Then all hell breaks loose. But of course he won't let you find out and you wonder why this person mysteriously disappeared.
He's not subtle at all. Everyone sees it. Everyone except oblivious you.
comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 
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missroki · 2 months
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CUPID IS SO DUMB! ┊ GOJO SATORU
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star dusted arrows are standard. they have the advantage of being blessed by the gods, unable to bend or warp unless you add just the right amount of pressure. the only downside is that they are too light in the hands, practically a figment of your imagination with how the shaft would leave no impression on your palm. 
modern arrows have a more practical use, carbon made with hints of aluminum and soul fragments. they’re heavier, sturdier, made to withstand even the thickest of material. satoru has been using the same arrows for a millennia, so he finds himself befuddled to find that each one of his expertly crafted projectiles are snapping like wooden twigs.
either his bad eyesight has finally caught up to him, or you were simply unloveable.
you with your pretty smile and silly heart printed headband. you who had been shot easily by his arrow only a few days prior.
somehow, despite his best efforts, silly little you was still moving through your college campus with a scarlet red arrow lodged in your lower back; invisible to the perception of mortals but a bright beacon of satoru’s failure to any god who happened to pass by. 
he can hear the scolding now, how a cupid couldn’t even shoot an arrow! he can see the disappointed gaze of venus as she stares down at her creation. what is a god if his will can be altered by a mere mortal? what sort of spell are you casting that makes every man reject the love satoru is desperately trying to bless them with?
sure, you were a bit quirky — but you were clearly beautiful. the fact that you had needed any intervention from a cupid at all is a mystery within itself. from what he could tell, you were kind and true; a brilliant orange blossom in a sea of weeds. someone that could rival aphrodite herself (though he of course would never say this out loud.)
according to suguru, the cupids were meant to just push you in the right direction. to give you humans that final nudge.
you have managed to turn a nudge into a full on tackle.
countless hours have been spent watching as you glide through your university, avoiding every man in your general vicinity. it’s not a woman you seek (satoru has tried to pair you with the roommate you seem to spend most of your time with) and he couldn’t possibly pair you with the fictional man that runs across your television. (you should really sit further away from the screen.)
any time he finds you close to anyone, he takes a chance. shot after shot and each arrow ricochets into the nearest bush or snaps as if the mere thought of the match was absurd. he doesn’t understand you!
never in all of these years has he heard of such a case. you were infuriatingly difficult. stubborn, even! how else could he explain your inability to match with anyone? you must be doing it on purpose at this point.
satoru sulks, letting his chin rest in the palm of his hand as he leans against a building ledge. he feels the leather strap of his quiver pressing into his bare chest, his white pants low on his hips.
if he knows your schedule, you should be arriving at your favorite coffee shop in no time. it’s valentine’s day, after all, and they had a delicious heart shaped donut ready and fresh for customers. all he’d have to do was wait. surely the ache in his wings would be worth it in the end!
he hears you before he sees you, the soft click of your shoes as they hurry down the sidewalk. you seem to be rushing, books tightly held to your chest and your hair in a simpler style than usual. you aren’t even wearing your signature heart patterned headband… on valentine’s day.
you’re clearly not yourself and something about the thought… upsets satoru. you should be cheerful in that annoying way you always are. what’s going on?
you’re looking down at your phone when a man leaves the coffee shop. what appears to be a hot chocolate rests firmly in his hand. he’s also not paying attention, looking in the opposite direction of you and blissfully unaware.
he’s attractive enough, bright pink hair and an equally stupid grin on his face. he looks like the type of guy that would match you well (if the pink aura surrounding him was anything to go by.) a prime candidate for love, the emotion oozing out of him in waves.
satoru perks up at this. anyone from a mile away could see what was about to occur. it was a prime moment in any cupid’s career, a turn of events so perfect that the stars seemed to align for this very purpose:
a meet cute.
depending on how hot that drink was, potentially a meet ugly!
the white haired angel positions his arrow in his bow, nocking the sharp point as he eyes his target. satoru lowers his chin, weight on the balls of his feet as he leans forward off of his heels.
you’re almost there now, only a few more steps until you are to meet the love of your life. the thought brings a small smirk to satoru’s face. finally, you’d be out of his hair. he wasn’t sure if he could watch you binge another reality tv show.
he takes in a deep breath. points, aims, and shoots.
the arrow lodges itself into the man’s arm, effectively causing him to drop his drink... on the dress shoes of someone else.
it sticks! or at least… he think it does?
the arrow in the man’s arm disappears as if it was merely a trick of the light and he sparks up a conversation with the hot chocolate victim. with the way this new darker haired man seems to be unphased, satoru assumes they are already acquainted. 
if the kiss the pink haired man presses onto his cheek is anything to go by, all satoru managed to do was make their love stronger.
you on the other hand are still on your phone, typing away with that cursed point still sticking out of your lower back.
a red hot blush rushes to satoru’s face as he reaches for another arrow, anger rising deep in his stomach and lingering in his chest. you have managed to evade him again but this will be the last time!
he reaches into his quiver blindly, eyes focused only on you and your adorable face and pretty hair and stupid— ouch!
warmth quickly replaces the anger he felt in his chest, nervous fluttering forcing its way into his stomach. satoru quickly moves his hand away from his arrows, the smallest drop of blood blooming on his fingertip. with a shift of weight, he can tell instantly that another arrow has disappeared.
uh oh.
one glance down at the street and he can see the tension lift from your shoulders, your eyes flickering around until they lock onto his. the arrow in your back is gone, but satoru has seen that lovesick gaze many times before in training. he assumes that he wears the same one now.
his first day back on the job and he has already managed to break one of the main rules of cupidhood: don’t get pricked by your own arrow.
maybe suguru was on to something when he said to store arrows with the pointy side facing down?
you’re moving towards him now; quickly and with confusion riddled on your face. satoru won’t lie and say he doesn’t get it. one minute you’re experiencing the worst cramp of your life and the next, the pain is alleviated and a half-dressed man is staring at you from the top of an abandoned grocery store.
maybe he could call in sick.
do cupids get sick days? if so, satoru is sure he has plenty of PTO saved up to take the rest of the day off. maybe the effects of the arrows would wear off after some well deserved rest? perhaps you wouldn’t find a celestial being to be a good option for a romantic endeavor?
by the determined look in your features, that seems unlikely.
he can hear you stomp up the stairs of the building, the metal steps creaking with every press from your shoes. satoru finds himself growing nervous, a cold sweat lingering on his forehead and hands. the arrows must be having an effect on him already, because when you finally enter the rooftop, all he can think about is how underdressed he is for the occasion.
you are his perfect match, after all.
your hands rest on your hips, your eyes looking unreasonably lovesick. as satoru goes to explain himself, you interject.
“so are you like… cupid or something?” huh, you figured that out quicker than expected.
“well, i’m actually—“
“because if you are, you're… pretty bad at your job.” an apologetic look appears on your features, hands clasping together as you play with your fingers.
the white haired man lets out a scoff.
“for your information i’m a cupid. there’s like… thousands of us or something. if anyone should complain it’s me! trying to find you a match has been torture.”
your eyes brows furrow, your arms now moving to cross over your chest. you do that a lot, fidgeting. satoru imagines that you also feel the same heat that he does. it’s annoying, distracting.
there’s a twinkle in your eye, something close to teasing but not quite. “so you decided to just snatch me up for yourself? pretty drastic decision, no?”
“this,” his finger points at the space between you, “was an accident. i was trying to get you with that pink haired kid.”
“yuuji? he has a boyfriend, stupid.”
“cupid and yes, i know that now.”
“the heart eyes he was making at megumi wasn’t enough for you?”
“megu– isn’t that a girl name?”
“why are you even here?” you ask, deciding to ignore his comment for now.
satoru sighs, removing his quiver to show the arrows on his back. “i’m a cupid, remember? i’m helping humans fall in love for the holiday! you were on my list but…” he glances down at his finger. “there were complications.”
you nod slowly, a ghost of an arrow now lingering in your lower back. “so, what now? i’ve never exactly been with a cupid before.”
your companion hums, glancing down at the coffee shop across the street. “well i’ve never even spoken to a human before so, i think you’re at an advantage.”
it’s at this moment that your stomach rumbles, an embarrassingly loud sound that can’t be covered up by the sounds of people commuting around you.
“maybe…” you start, walking towards him. “we can grab a bite to eat?”
he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that eating isn’t necessary for his kind. “since i’m going to probably get fired anyway? sure. might as well.”
you smile and extend a hand to him. satoru takes it, though that same burning only gets worse, traveling up his arm and down the back of his neck.
“lead the way, little human.”
it was going to be a long day.
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note: this was definitely supposed to be longer but no matter how hard i tried the words were not coming, lmao. hopefully y’all enjoy this little valentine’s day drabble anyway!
MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.
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thefantasyden · 1 day
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Stray Kids reaction to different sub types
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Now, the sub types I chose for each member are all different, but I hope you'll enjoy none the less.
Smut warning as always.
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Chris:
Puppy Subs
Non Sexually: I think Chris is a great fit for puppy subs! Eager for affection, ready to please.
Chris would be a little confused at first, not really sure how to interact with you until he realises he can, in fact, just treat you like a dog.
He'd be so happy coming home to you, petting your hair, and asking if you've been good today. He almost always bring you home some kind of snack or treat because he always sees things that make him think of you.
He would low-key love the way you cling to him in public and your annoyed grumbles when you started getting sleepy or wanted more attention. CHAN PUPPY SUB LOVER he just thinks they're so cute.
Sexually: he loves the kind of sex that he doesn't have to think for, and a needy puppy in heat caters to that perfectly. Not to mention the breeding kink!
There's nothing that makes him cum quite as hard as rambling to his puppy about how he's gonna breed them as a reward for taking him so well and hearing you whine out your desperate pleas in response.
"Ohhhh my puppy. You want a bone, huh? C'mere."
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Minho
Innocent Sub
Non Sexually: Minho would LOVE an innocent and obedient sub. One that never really questions what he's doing because they trust him that much. There's nothing better than being trusted so completely that he can manouver you wherever he wants and give you any task knowing you'll complete it without complaint.
He's on it from the go, testing out your submission by giving you the most random tasks at all times of the day.
Min likes these types even more because he can do anything he wants and people won't think twice because you appear to be so sweet. They don't question when he slots his thigh between yours and spreads your legs with his or when he pulls you down onto his lap out of nowhere, and that thrills him.
Sexually: He loves rewarding you. He doesn't need to have a real reason because he can just make one up. Half the time you can't understand why brushing your teeth or folding your laundry has earned you the opportunity to be spread out on his bed so he can devour you like he was made for it, but you won't complain.
He'll tease you endlessly, too. A good mix of feathery touches that tickle your skin and firm groping that both grounds you and knocks all thought from your brain. Constantly making you tell him that you like what he's doing, because it sounds songood in your slightly confused, dazed voice.
"Uh uh, use your words. Tell me how good I make you feel and then you can cum."
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Changbin:
'Alpha' Sub
Non Sexually: This isn't controversial in any way, but Binnie wouldn't love a sub who also commands respect around others. He let's you wear the pants in public, no questions asked because it makes him proud to see how people are slightly scared of you because of your take no shit attitude.
If anyone guessed, they might even think he was the sub in your relationship with the way you boss him around, but he knows the second he asks you to do something you'll be jumping to make it happen. You're actually very obedient and well trained.
Sexually: He can't help but get turned on when you're being all commanding and strong. It's the contrast that does it for him, and he'll have you kneeling in front of him as soon as you're alone, massinging your scalp with a firm grip onnyour hair as you nuzzle at his thigh, dreamy sighs blessing his ears.
You're the kinda sub that he can fuck dumb really easily and he uses that to his advantage. Every. Single. Time. He's God great control so he won't cum until he's make you cum around his cock a few times, and even then he's going multiple rounds. He knows you'll take it every time.
"There's my baby. I know you can take the whole thing. You don't need to think about it, ok?"
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Hyunjin:
Princess Sub
Non Sexually: Hyune loves a princess because he loves to dress you up and show you off, but not in the same way one would with a bimbo. Nom Hyunjin likes having the most beautiful, untouchable person in the room wrapped around his fingers.
He would appreciate the way a Princess Sub carries themselves. They know their worth, and they don't settle, so he gets to revel in the fact that you chose him and continue to choose him every day. You've deemed him worthy of your submission, and that's everything to him.
Sexually: His favourite thing is to fuck his Princess fully clothed. Both of you. The neediness of it, the dishevelled appearance you come out with. Something about ruining you really gets him going and once he starts, he can't stop.
He gets off on knowing that you're seen as someone that nobody could live up to, yet you're doing filthy depraved things for the sole purpose of his pleasure, and of course returning the favour tenfold.
"Look at you. God, you're a masterpiece, you know that?"
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Han:
Slutty Subs
Non Sexually: he loves the clinginess. The way you always want to be close to him, on him.not only is the physical pressure of your body in his something he finds incredibly soothing and grounding, but he always thrives when he feels wanted and craved in the way you show.
It's hard for him not to blush and feel a little awkward when you insist on longer kisses and sitting on his lap despite the free seat next to him, but he really does adore it. Even when your hands start wandering a little too much.
Sexually: The NEEDINESS. God, having you begging for him any time you're alone drives him wild. He's capable of being calm. Don't get me wrong. But when you rile him up, all bets are off and he's taking you over the nearest surface.
Also, lots of CASUAL sex. Cockwarming during movies, fingering you when he's scrolling through his phone, your warm mouth wrapped around his cock when he's working. It's a strange sort of affection thing between you and the intimacy is the most important part of sex for Sungie, so he kind of loves that it's more about you showing how much you love and need him then just you hunting for an orgasm.
"Ah, fine! You can put it in your mouth, but no moving until I say so."
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Felix:
Experienced Subs
Non Sexually: Felix and experienced subs are a matched made in heaven. He's curious about so many things and the fact that you're able to teach him how to do them means you get to turn him into your perfect Dominant, which is really all he's aiming for.
Felix is thrilled at how easily you'll bring up a new kink or a new toy and how quickly he's able to pick up from you, but even more than that, he's thrilled that you'd even bother to guide him.
He takes a special interest to after care if we're being frank. He loves to succeed at pushing you into a place of bliss and then soak up how song and pliant you are, snuggling you into his chest and fawning over you.
Sexually: The way you're able to figure out what he needs and give it to him will never fail to have him fucking you into the mattress. After a while of experimenting and becoming more comfortable with his own dominance he'd find himself craving it and he doesn't really know how to deal with that, so you just sink to your knees beside him when he's playing games and let him run his fingers through your hair and it sends a simultaneous rush of pride and heat straight to his cock.
He likes that you're not afraid to be vocal about what you want and need. He takes note of everything you like and everything that makes you moan a little louder and uses it against you until he's mastered to art of switching you into sub space with very little effort.
"You need me to take care of you, huh? Come on, I know you do. Let me make you feel good."
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Seungmin:
Soft Brat Sub
Non Sexually: Hear me out, okay. I think Minnie would adore the playful side of a soft Brat. He loves that you give his attitude right back to him and toe the line of too far without ever crossing it. You're never disrespectful of the authority you chose to give him, but you're ready to call him out when he's wrong and he likes that.
He gets really giggly and happy when you tease him back, always flirting with him and reminding him of the effect he has on you. He almost expects it, and he'll be sad if you suddenly stop.
Sexually: Seungmin likes a little power struggle. He teases you harder when you resist, slowing his thrust until it's just a lazy roll of his hips against yours because he knows you'll break easily. The fact that he gets to 'break' you, but it has very little resistance, is actually nice for him because he doesn't want to feel like he's fighting to earn your respect constantly.
When you finally do give up your faux resistance, he makes sure to reward you. He'll almost always hold your hands while he pounds into you, kissing your nose and telling you how easy you make it for him. He's big on the affection when you fuck.
"That's it. Give in to it. I know it feels good. You can have more if you give up."
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Jeongin:
Prey Subs
Non sexually: Our sweet innie is positively beaming when he sees flashes of worry in your eyes. He knows you're not scared of him. You're just eager for him, and it's fun to him. He loves to catch you off guard and startle you by grabbing your hips and pulling you close to him.
You love it too, of course. Innie is big on consent, and he wouldn't be wrapping his pretty hand around the base of your throat when he kisses your cheek unless he was positive you liked it.
He also likes to poke and prod at you just a little. The playful bullying is a big part of your dynamic and a way he shows his affection whilst reminding you of your place.
Sexually: The chase is everything. On special occasions you'll find yourself playing hide and seek through your apartment building, and it's led to you fucking in the gym more than once. He doesn't really understand why hunting you is so hot, but he's thirsty for it.
When he's not hunting you, he's manhandling you. It's not always rough, but he's always caging you in somehow. His body wrapped around yours, his hand pressed firmly in the middle of your back, your thighs pushed up to your chest. He doesn't really think about it much. He just knows he needs to take you, and he can't help but get a little aggressive.
"Baby, when I find you, I promise I'm gonna be fucking you on the nearest flat surface."
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serafilms · 5 months
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song 69! loser of the year (simple plan) + dick grayson requested by @celamoon (2023 spotify wrapped event) (this works so perfectly holy shit?? also hi cressie ilysm i’m such a big fan)
you make me wanna shut it all down, throw it all away, ‘cause i’m nothing if i don’t have you
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Dick Grayson has no shortage of blessings.
He wakes up every day with a full head of silky hair, skin glowing and a bank account fuller than that house on Full House. He has a great job (that he doesn’t even need. Thanks, Bruce) and great friends, old ladies love him and even his smile has been known to make a few people faint.
He’s a celebrity. His life is great. He’s on top of the world.
So why is he still staring at his phone, waiting for the screen to light up?
Because of you. You, his good friend of three years and silly little crush of one.
Yesterday, his life was perfect. He’d met up with you in the city because you’d promised to help him get his new tux for the next gala. He’d made a few jokes and got to see your smile, and got to meet a few fans on the street. Then, when the two of you were sat in a coffee shop, he looked over at you and his heart stopped.
The sunlight was caught perfectly on your face, lighting up your eyes and bouncing off your hair and god, he was so down bad.
Well, no time like the present, he’d thought.
The conversation lasted about one excruciating minute, before you were throwing a few bills on the table, giving him an apologetic look and walking out the door.
“I’m in love with you,” he’d said.
“I need to think about it,” you’d replied.
His world has slowly been crumbling ever since.
Yeah, his hair and skin are still perfect, his bank account is still loaded and everything else in his life is totally fine, but none of it seems as useful anymore.
His phone buzzes and Dick lunges for it.
Jason: hey
Jason: when r u coming for the gala
Jason: damian’s extra homidical today
He frowns down at the screen. That doesn’t seem good. He shoots back a quick idk and promptly mutes the conversation so he isn’t baited again.
He’s alone with his thoughts for long enough to start thinking about his next move. Dick is starting to think you’ll never give him an answer, and you’re just ghosting him now to avoid rejecting him. Therefore, the obvious solution would be to move far, far away from Gotham. Nightwing will just have to relocate. The Bats will be fine without him.
Maybe Hawaii? No, still too close. Somewhere in Europe, maybe? Or is that too high profile a place for a celebrity? Australia seems nice. The sun would be good for his tan. He could live in a little house by the beach. Learn to surf. A simple life.
Without you, he doesn’t think he has much need for any luxuries. He’d give it all up for you if you wanted, he’d give it all up if he didn’t get you anyway. He’s nothing without you. Money or not, he’s a total loser.
There’s an incessant knocking on his door and he groans.
“Oh, come on, Jason! Did you really need to come to my apartment to drag me out?”
He makes his way to the door and throws it open, preparing to see the face of his annoying younger brother. His scowl drops instantly.
You’re standing there, all dressed up, a bouquet in your hands.
“Hi,” you say, smiling shyly, “I was wondering if you might need a date to the gala.”
Dick grins, grabs you by the waist, and pulls you in for a kiss.
He guesses he won this time.
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ninzied · 3 months
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and patience, and pining
in which alex is determined to flirt so hard that henry can no longer resist him. a modern au. based on the prompt: surprise kiss/impulsive kiss. ~1.8k.
Between the two of them, Alex has always thought he’d be the one to cave first.
They’ve both arrived at the same time. Henry looks stupid-good in his well-fitted tuxedo. His hair is just over-styled enough that Alex wants to mess it up, and badly.
How one man can be so like this is frankly upsetting. No, scratch that; it’s illegal, is what it is. Criminal law is not Alex’s domain, but he’s pretty sure being this tempting in public is a certifiable offense.
“Alex,” says Henry, and he blinks, at least some sense returning to him.
“Right,” he says. “Shall we?”
Henry gives him a look like he’d rather be anywhere else on the planet, which, the reception is not even open bar, so Alex can’t say he disagrees.
“After you, Your Majesty,” he says, stepping from the door with a flourish, then, “I saw that.”
“Saw what?” asks Henry, already shouldering past him with his chin turned up.
“If I had a dollar for every time you rolled your eyes at me—”
“Good taste still can’t be bought, Alex.”
“That’s ironic,” Alex shoots back, smiling and nodding at one of the guests as they enter. “Considering my tie is way better than yours.”
Henry lifts his hand at another in greeting, and even his wave looks fucking majestic, the asshole. “I trust you’ll be at least somewhat behaved this evening?”
“You sure that’s what you want, sweetheart?”
Henry’s expression turns very dour, and Alex wonders, not for the first time, why that particular look on him makes Alex so crazy. The more severe Henry gets, the wilder Alex’s impulse to kiss him, and the urge to just give in.
Alex licks his lips.
Henry takes a cautionary step back. “Let’s do try to make it through the rest of the night without much carnage, yes?”
“I don’t know,” Alex muses. “When you threaten me with a good time like that…”
Henry mutters something under his breath and Alex can’t help but grin. Maybe the night holds some promise after all.
.
He decides he’s going to have to walk that back after a while.
The music is decent, and he was wrong about the open bar, thank God, but he’s barely seen Henry since some crusty-looking Wall Street types whisked him and Pez away to talk business, and Alex is bored.
He wants to dance. He wants to dance—with Henry. And because that’s not going to happen, Alex wants to do the next best thing, which is to dance while Henry pretends not to watch, but he’s not even facing the dance floor right now so there would be no fucking point. He’ll have to think of something else. Hmmm.
Nora shimmies up to him then with two new flutes of champagne. Bless. “Still pining?” she asks.
Alex whips around to glare at her, wounded. “What? Nora, no,” he says. Is it that obvious? Fuck.
Nora shrugs. “You do the thing where you look him when you think he won’t notice. Both of you. You guys kind of have it down to a science.”
Alex brightens immediately. “You’ve seen him looking at me?”
Nora sips her champagne. “Right now, for example.”
Henry looks quickly away when Alex glances over, which is as good an invitation as any in his book. One of the suits is talking at Henry, who seems about as engaged as a teapot right now. Pez has dialed up the charisma, distracting them easily from Henry’s silence. But to Alex, Henry looks downright miserable in comparison.
Well, Alex is here to do something about that.
He plucks the second flute from Nora’s hand. “You’re the best. Gotta go.”
She raises an eyebrow. “I thought you weren’t pining?”
“For that guy?” Alex gazes at Henry again, then says, quite honestly, “Always.”
.
It takes exactly two minutes for the Wall Street guys to politely excuse themselves. Alex watches them practically dissolve their way into the crowd, like a creepy bunch of Mr. Smiths from The Matrix, and he suppresses a shudder.
The look on Henry’s face is an appealing combination of annoyed and relieved. “Let me guess,” Alex deadpans, “you’re so grateful you could just kiss me right now.”
Henry’s expression turns distinctly disapproving as Pez chimes in, “Be patient and Hazza might even learn to admit it someday.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.” Alex grins sideways at Henry, who’s flushing the loveliest pink despite also frowning. “You’re welcome for rescuing you from the most tedious conversation known to man, by the way.”
“Actually, darling dearest,” Pez says lightly, “we were speaking with potential investors in the foundation.”
Oh. Shit. “Do you want me to charm them back over?” Alex wants to know, jerking a thumb in the direction they’d gone. “It is well within my power.”
“Not necessary.” Henry pulls a face. “I would’ve felt dirty about taking their money.”
“I would’ve felt wonderfully about it,” says Pez. “But now that you’ve freed up my dance card…” He cranes his neck around.
“Nora’s over there,” Alex says helpfully.
“Brilliant.” Pez’s eyes are the definition of sparkling. “Ah, and I see your sister’s about to join her. If you boys will excuse me—”
He helps himself to the rest of Alex’s champagne before sashaying off.
The two of them remain standing there a careful few feet apart, not looking at each other. Not that it matters; Alex is so hyperaware of him that he could reach over without even looking and take Henry’s hand if he wanted to. He won’t, but he wants to.
Knowing that he can is enough for now.
Henry looks askance at him after a moment. “You’re making this very hard, you know.”
Alex somehow manages not to smile at that. “Am I?”
Henry’s face screws up in faux concentration. “Let’s see. You’ve been a merciless flirt, even more so than usual. You wore the tie I bought you, which means you don’t hate it—”
“What? I love it,” interrupts Alex, just to be clear.
“—and you just drove off a very lucrative, albeit morally questionable, investment opportunity.” Henry’s also holding back a smile. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to not kiss you for that alone.”
“You still could,” Alex points out.
“And lose your silly bet?” Henry straightens, adjusting his cufflinks, and that might be the single hottest thing Alex has ever seen. “I think not. We both know you’ll be the first to give in.”
It’s true, Alex thinks; he’s pretty irresistible, but Henry is also far more controlled. Still, there’s a certain satisfaction in knowing that Alex gets to be the one who stretches him to his very limit. The level of restraint it takes Henry to resist him is a pretty big turn-on, if he’s being honest. Even when Henry wins, it will be no great loss on Alex’s part.
“Considering what’s at stake here,” Alex says lowly, leaning in just enough to catch the way Henry’s eyes darken, “I think I win either way.”
Henry does smile then, soft and warm and way too tempting not to kiss, though Alex perseveres. “I think we both do, darling.”
“That we can agree on,” says Alex. “So, do you want to…not…dance with me?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
.
He slips up, once.
It’s in a goddamn photo booth of all things, and Alex would feel like such a cliché if he weren’t so busy feeling annoyed at the fact that he can’t hold Henry’s hand or kiss him in front of the camera. Instead, he lets Nora and June wedge in between them, grinning gamely when they take turns kissing Henry on the cheek.
At the literal last second before the flash is going off, Alex feels Henry take his hand from behind, lace their fingers ever so gently together, and squeeze.
In the photo that prints out, June and Nora are doubled over in laughter, eyes closed, unaware. Henry has his chin tipped up, his face doing some smoldery thing at the camera, and Alex is turned, simply gazing at him.
He takes it before anyone sees, tucking it safely into his wallet because bet or no bet, some things really are too sacred to share.
When he shows it to Henry later, Henry gets the same lovestruck look on his face as Alex does in the photo, and that’s all he needs.
.
It’s the cake that finally does it.
Pez, Nora and June are all crowded around the same piece, and it makes Alex sigh a little wistfully to think about how much better it would taste if he were sharing his with Henry.
He can’t help it. He peers at Henry’s own slice, squinting. “What flavor is that one?”
“Strawberry,” says Henry. There’s a crumb on his lip, and Alex doesn’t mean to fixate on it, but he’s now gone hours without kissing his boyfriend and he’s kind of mad about it even though it’s also kind of his fault. “Do you want a bite?”
Oh. Yeah, that’ll work. Alex can feel the others’ eyes on them as he leans closer, fully expecting that Henry will yield to his instincts and feed him a piece off his fork. It’s not a kiss, but it could definitely qualify as losing the bet. And then once Alex has won, he can not only kiss Henry as much as he likes, he gets to take Henry home with him and—well.
He frowns when Henry only holds the plate out. “Here, have some,” says Henry, gaze lifting to his, then just a bit lower. “Oh. Hang on, you’ve got a—”
In a move that’s beyond Alex’s wildest dreams, Henry cups his jaw and kisses the side of his mouth, with just the slightest bit of tongue.
Alex grins as Henry freezes against him, realizing his mistake too late. “Thanks, baby.”
“Bollocks,” says Henry. He pulls back and sighs, licking the rest of the buttercream from his lips. “I’ve lost, haven’t I.” Then, accusingly, “You did that on purpose, didn’t you.”
“I’d say I don’t kiss and tell, but.” Alex puts his hands on Henry’s thighs, using that grip to scoot their chairs closer together. “I am gonna kiss you now, so.”
“You’ll be getting to do a lot more than that,” Henry points out.
“Ew, did not need to hear that part,” June groans at the same time that Pez puts down their cake and says, “Please, I need to hear more.”
“There’s a legally binding document and everything,” says Alex, to Henry’s chagrin and Pez’s delight. “Drafted it up myself.”
“You two were pining that hard and you were already together?” Nora wants to know. “Actually, that tracks. Carry on.”
Henry has gone as pink as the cake now, but he’s smiling when Alex swipes up some more buttercream, touching it to Henry’s mouth before leaning the rest of the way in.
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luvvixu · 6 months
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bad day = bad emotional stability
content: fluff, bf!gojo, +16, he's a bit vulnerable here—in short, kinda like crybaby but who caresss he's literally so bbg, kinda spicy so watch out
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"y/n? why aren't you sleeping yet?" a groggy voice interrupts you as your fingers stop typing. you see your boyfriend sitting on your shared bed, rubbing his tired and sleepy eyes.
"i still need to finish my lecture." you answered.
"but you just said that thirty minutes ago," he said with an almost annoyed voice.
"i know, baby. but i promise i'm almost finished, i only need to write three to four paragraphs."
satoru pouted at you. he was getting really needy when he just woke up. when i tell you needy, it's literally and extremely needy!
you saw his face and it made you chuckles. he looks so adorable! with his cheeks puffing, along with his bed hair everywhere. god, you just have been blessed with a clingy boyfriend.
"don't give me that look." you playfully said.
instead of answering, he just turns his back to you and covers himself with a blanket. that's a sign that he's going to give you a cold shoulder. he's gonna ignore you, unless you give him all of your attention. you sigh quietly to yourself before crawling towards him.
satoru felt his side become damp, a warning that his girlfriend was behind him. he could feel the blanket suddenly lifted up. the white haired man gulped — because knowing you — a y/n would always have a trick under her sleeves.
"toru, my baby~" you purred softly into his ear. an amusement grin appeared on your lips as you watched his ears go red.
a brilliant idea also pops into your head. you swipe the hair behind his neck and start to place some small pepper kisses within his sensitive area, his neck. you knew he really loved this kind of intimacy.
you could hear his soft gasp and hidden whimpers escaping from his mouth. smiling in success, you decided to add more tease by letting yourself dig your canines through his skin.
lick, kiss, bite
that same pattern keeps him from drowsiness away. it made his mind become so frazzled that he couldn't contain his overflowing desire anymore.
a full moan finally came out from your boyfriend's mouth. your eyes shot up from the sound that you didn't notice that he finally faced you with a crimson complexity.
"oh? hello, did you enjoy it?" you grin innocently — clearly enjoying his vulnerable state. but satoru paid no attention to your words, rather he just stared at you.
the grin suddenly came to halt as worry appeared to your expression while you furrowed your eyebrows. "hey, are you upset with me?" you asked him softly.
you're getting a prediction that he's upset with you because you promised him that the two of you will cuddle tonight. and yet, you failed to do so because of schoolworks.
"baby?" you called out to him.
the boy sighs quietly. and instead of answering, satoru just planted his face over your chest as he shook his head, indicating that he was not angry or upset with you. a breath of relief exits from your lips, planting a soft kiss on his head as an affection.
"toru, is there something bothering you? can you tell me what it is?" you cup his cheeks gently to make him look over you.
he sighed. "it was nothing."
you both knew it was a lie. the two of you have known each other for almost five years. so this kind of behavior was nothing unfamiliar to you.
satoru has a habit of keeping things all by himself. knowing that he had this kind of mentality that he's the strongest, he shouldn't look weak. that is why you've been very patient and understanding towards him even more. you would always wait for him to open up at you. hell, you often force him to speak.
so without a warning, you carefully lean into his face and place a soft kiss over his lips. since satoru has been so dewy-eyed, you decided to take the lead by inserting your tongue inside him.
a soft and low moan escapes from him as he finally becomes responsive over your kiss. you let yourself smile between the collisions. your boyfriend is a bit shy and soft when it comes to you, that's why you cannot surpass the urge of protecting him too at all cost.
"i love you, toru. you know i'll always be your solace amongst labyrinths."
his breath hitch. and finally, the emotion he's been building up has now collapsed like a house of cards. you watch him break down in front of you. satoru buried his head again deeper on your chest as he weeps.
while you — being a worried and loving girlfriend — you stroke his head while whispering a lot of comforting words to ease his hurt emotional state. your baby has been so strong, and now it is time for him to release all of his unsaid thoughts.
"i'm so fed up with the shitty higher ups." he trailed off. your eyes unknowingly brightens, he's finally opening up to you.
"hmm? did they do or say anything to you again?" you asked with an extra careful voice. because this topic can be sensitive for him, it involves all of his hatred and some of his trauma.
"you could say that… they kept on nagging me about my student's execution. it really irritates me." as he spoke, your hand was still on his head to give him a sense of comfort.
"everytime i would meet up with the higher ups, i felt so powerless to them even though i am labeled as the strongest. they kept on bringing him — bringing you.." he continued. you could feel his fist tight within your shirt he's clinging on.
him? he is talking about geto suguru, right?
"y/n, i hate them so much!" a single angry tear fell from his face, and then followed by another.
you constantly wipe the salty tears from his face. "shh~ i know, baby, i know. but you have to calm yourself first, or else you're gonna have a panic attack — that's even worse."
now your shirt is wet because of his tears, which you don't mind. you're more worried about his state of mind. his mind is hard to dive in. you never know what's going on his fragile mind.
"but you know what, y/n..."
"i am so grateful that i have you. now, i can cope up with everyday scenarios or i can conquer those worst moments because you, alone, gave me much more than that." his words melt your heart. it was not rare for satoru to say these kinds of words to you, but due to his past circumstances, satoru was having a hard time expressing himself at some point.
one, because he, himself, has never received such a genuine love one before and two, because of his playful demure. so it is something new to you. such simple words matter for both of you, for you two represent each other.
"y/n, i love you. i love you so much."
"i love you too, satoru. you are my everything ."
and thus, the two dreams got caught in one dreamcatcher. their loud heartbeats are so vivid that they labeled it as one, one heart for two individual lovers.
©luvvixu2023
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Note
I’ve been following this blog ever since your first headcannons and I’m in love with your writing. I’ve been DYING for someone to request this but nobody has so I will! Could I request a Yandere Andrew with a willing fem reader? She’s just pretty chill and doesn’t mind Andrew’s possessive and yandere nature and is even willing to cut ties with people because she loves him and genuinely sees nothing wrong with it?
P.S I just love the Ashley and Gabriel ship! I think it’s adorable! I love Gabriel’s design and the pairing looks adorable together! I’m always looking on Tumblr multiple times a day to see if you’ve posted something new.
If you accept, please take your time and have fun! Thank you!
Anon- you are so sweet. Thanks dog <3
totallynotcryingtotallynotcrying—
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Yandere!Andrew Graves x Willing Fem!Reader
You can’t remember the last time someone cared about you as much as Andrew did
Someone who would do the things he did just to protect you
Really you couldn’t be luckier
Most women would be terrified to see the dark silhouette of their partner standing outside their window late at night
Not you though, you know he was just making sure you were safe.
You waved to him once, and though it was difficult to see- he waved back
It was endearing how much Andrew cared about your safety
It was sweet how much he noticed about you
Small details that would go overlooked, like the shampoo you used- or the way you held yourself while conveying emotions. He noticed.
Andrew loved you. And you loved him.
“I’m just…worried.” Your friend’s voice felt like the vocal equivalent of chewing cardboard. If it wasn’t for the subject right now, you would’ve tuned her out ages ago. But this concerned you and your life, so you listened, “Like- he’s a stalker Y/N! Straight up stalker! What if he like- wears your skin like a jacket or something.”
“Hm.” You shrugged, “I’m sure he’d sew a lovely jacket then.” A small grin formed on the corners of your mouth as your friend gave an annoyed sigh.
“I’m being serious! He’s obsessed with you!”
“Boyfriends are supposed to be obsessed, aren’t they not?”
“No! Like weirdly obsessed!” You could hear the desperation in her voice, “Y/N, you don’t get it. I’ve been- I’ve been getting letters, voicemails, goddamn post it notes on my desk to stay away from you and they’re all from him. He broke into my house!”
Andrew….did all that?
“Oh my god…” you let out.
“Thank you!”
“Oh my god…he- really must not trust you then.”
“WHAT?!” You had to hold the phone away from your ear as your friend yelled into it.
You slowly brought it back to your ear, “Well- yeah? I mean- clearly he doesn’t trust you.”
“Clearly he’s insane!”
Alright- you had enough.
“Look,” you took a breath, trying to remain calm, “If you have a problem with my boyfriend- that’s fine. But I’m not going to sit here and listen to you insult him.”
“I’m not insulting him I’m—“
“Don’t call me again.” You said flatly, and not a second later hung up the phone.
You should feel awful. You should feel apologetic for what you said. You should consider your friend’s words..
But you didn’t.
It wasn’t like how they thought it was.
That friend, and any others who had something to say could fuck themselves over it
It was hard every time you had to do it
But Andrew- bless his soul- always comforted you
Hell, sometimes he even did it for you cause he knew how difficult they could be
He’s so sweet
Still would make them call, but you slowly blocked out the incessant sound of the phone’s ringing
When one of those conversations would bring you down, Andrew would be right there to lift your spirits
Andrew’s hands cupped your face, his thumbs trying to lift the corner of your mouth into a smile. The more he did it, the more it amused you- causing an actual smile to stay.
“There we go.” His head tilted a little as he gave you a small smile of his own, “Much better.”
“You’re a dork.” You buried your face into his chest, sighing happily as the familiar feeling of his hands stroking your hair.
“I’m your dork.” He hummed, “And I like your smile. So you better keep it, or I’ll carve it on to you.”
“Awwww, is that a promise?” You tilted your head up to look into his pale green eyes, your chin rested against his chest.
He nodded, “Mhm! Now C’mere.”
He leaned his head down, kissing you softly. You returned the kiss, reaching your arms up and wrapping them around his neck to hold him there. Not like he’d pull away, but as a measure for yourself more than anything.
For all the “warnings”
All the “concern” people gave your relationship with Andrew Graves
You didn’t care
You loved him
You loved his fucked up ways of affection
His twisted form of love
And he loved you back, tenfold
240 notes · View notes
sugurufic · 28 days
Text
Student of the Year (Gojo x Reader, Geto x Reader)
Summary: Saint Teresa, the planned destination for the rich, and a dream for those who can't afford it. Of course, there's a tension between the rich and the scholarship kids, the rich ones acting so much better than the others. All of that changes, when Suguru Geto, the new scholarship kid joins, blurring the lines between the two cliques. Satoru Gojo, the resident rockstar, the son of the most affluent man, the poster boy of the rich. You, the hottest girl on campus, Satoru’s girlfriend (or are you). Friends, bitches, love and betrayal - a competition to ruin all relationships. 
Content Warning: fluff, fights, focused on SatoSugu, reader is rich and low-key a bitch, fuckboy Satoru, love triangle (stsg and reader) breakups, friendship breakups, typical Bollywood drama, a few swear words, ends on a positive note
Word Count: 21k | masterlist
A/N: For those of you unfamiliar with SOTY i've attached the links to the movie's songs <3 the tall guy is Sugu and shorter one is Satoru's character
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Saint Teresa - the college where dreams come true, or nightmares become real. Saint Teresa is a big name with a big game - having a big division in the trust fund kids and the scholarship kids. There’s the star of the trust fund kids - Satoru Gojo - the son of the biggest tycoon of the country, who is blessed by the gods with a charming face and a gift for music, and wants to be a rockstar. Music is his passion, but he does have a lover - only the prettiest girl of Saint Teresa, the one sought after by everyone who's anyone. She drowns in luxury, dropping brand names like they were some pop stars. The only things she doesn’t lack are beauty and money.
One might think that with the prettiest girl of the school at his side, Satoru wouldn’t even look at other people, but as the first day of the new college term rolls out, you’re met with the sight of your boyfriend of four years getting a little to cosy to Tanya, his hand on her waist and her hands on his chest. You see red - the wine in your hand finding a target besides your mouth.
You pat his back, trying to get his attention, but he pushes you off in favour of whispering dirty-nothings to Tanya, the brunette soaking up his attention. The fates are cruel and the other woman notices you first, and Satoru only turns around to see you when Tanya asks him to.
He’s shocked, surprised and begins profusely apologising for not noticing you earlier, while Tanya looks at you with an annoying smirk plastered on her face.
“You know Tanya, wine stains are the hardest to get rid off,” You tell her, feeling positively malicious, directing your anger at her instead of Satoru.
“Thanks for the washing machine tip, I guess?” She responds, her voice snarky.
“You’ll need it,” you say, before throwing the remaining wine onto her white top and stalking away from the both of them.
“Baby, listen!” Satoru calls after you, catching up easily with his long legs. “Baby, I said I’m sorry, why did you have to do that?”
“Listen, Satoru,” You emphasised on his name, an angry crease between your brows. “If you don’t leave your company this term, I will leave you. Fix yourself.”
“Baby, you look so sexy, all jealous and threatening me,” Satoru teases, licking his lips as he looks down at you.
“I’m being serious, Satoru,” You say, not using any endearments for him. “You’ve been at it for too long. Stop testing me.”
A new sports scholarship student joins Saint Teresa for the new term, state level track gold medalist and a martial arts champion - Suguru Geto. He’s from a humble background, not having the flair and pomp of the rich kids, but he has the confidence and the skills to make things work. He drives his simple motorbike to the campus from the dorms, backpack on his shoulder. His long dark hair is tied up in a bun, and a few bangs frame his pretty face. 
(Kukkad)
He parks his bike at an empty spot, when two guys, one blond and the other raven  haired, come up to him. Suguru looks at them, a little confused, but doesn’t say anything regardless.
“Hey bangs guy, don’t you know this parking spot is reserved for the Satoru Gojo?” Ichiji Kiyotaka says. He too is one of the scholarship kids, dressed in simple clothes. His companion, Kento Nanami, seems like a scholarship kid as well with his too-neat hair and simple shirt and jeans. “Go park your bike somewhere else.”
He looks at them, scowling, but doesn’t attempt to move his bike.
Just then, the man in question rolls in with his blue Ferrari, lips turned up in disgust on seeing his usual spot occupied with a cheap bike he can’t even be bothered to know the name of. 
“Kiyotaka, why is the trash here?” His voice is arrogant and full of himself, glaring at Kiyotaka and the bangs guy from behind his opaque sunglasses. “Don’t I pay you to keep my spot empty everyday?”
“This trash is called a motorbike and runs on petrol, you see,” Suguru says, voice laced in calm confidence.
“What did you say was your name again?” Satoru asks, sparkly blue eyes scrutinising him up and down from under his fluffy white hair - right from his bun and bangs to his sneakers, lip curling in disgust.
“I simply never said it,” Suguru simply says, purple eyes fixed on him, a model of confidence.
Satoru’s sidekick, another kid paying full fees, Yu Haibara, chimed in,  “Are you trying to play Crorepati with us? You’ll give options and then we’ll have to choose?”
“I’m called Suguru Geto,” Suguru finally says, the air of confidence never leaving him.
“Suguru,” Satoru tries saying his name, the disinterest in his voice feigns - behind his sunglasses, his blue eyes are trying to find a point of weakness. “Well, Suguru, this is my parking spot, and I’m asking you to take your tractor away.”
Suguru doesn’t respond, going to the blue Ferrari instead, saying, “2005 Ferrari F360 Spider convertible, 400 horsepower with alloy wheels, a great car.”
“What are you man or Google?” Kiyotaka Ichiji comments.
“Maybe he was a mechanic back in his village,” Satoru says, looking down on him.
“A valet at the nightclub,” Suguru says.
“Valet?” Satoru says, giddy on finally finding a weakness. He throws him the keys of the car, which the bangs guy expertly catches and says, “Take the keys and park my car. And here’s some cash, maybe get your tractor cleaned.” He pauses for a moment, then adds. “Keep the change,”
Everyone waits with a baited breath to see the calm, confident bangs guy reaction, Satoru with a cocky smirk on his lips as Suguru calmly gets in the driver side of the car and the engine roars to life. There’s a collective gasp as Suguru takes the 2005 F360 to the muddy ground and runs it around in near perfect doughnuts, turning the baby blue to a muddy brown. There’s a crowd gathered around him, loud gossip travelling in the crowd, half terrified, half annoyed but most of it admiring the man with the bangs.
The white haired man’s heart threatens to burst out of his chest at the rage he’s feeling - no one ever dares to cross him, especially not a scholarship kid who couldn’t even afford to be there. He is seeing red, eyes bloodshot and focused on Suguru, he’ll rip the confidence right out of him with the bangs everyone is seeming to talk about.
Satoru is ready to fight, when Suguru lazily steps out of the blue Ferrari and throws the keys right back to the owner. When Satoru is in closer range, the dark haired man takes the cash that he’d been given and hands it back saying, “Here’s some cash to get your car cleaned.” Suguru steps back and takes a short pause. “And please, keep the change.”
Being insulted like that on the first day of the new term by some scholarship brat was not on Satoru Gojo’s bucket list. He is red with rage, and throws the sunglasses off and pushes his white hair back from his forehead before raising his fists to hit the new guy, but Suguru’s easy defence only eggs him on more. They’re fighting, but Suguru has a bit of the upper hand with his expertise in martial arts. But soon the two are being pulled apart by the crowd while the rest continue recording the fight. To everyone else, it was a brilliant first day of school, and gossip fodder for everyone for the whole term.
They’re both escorted to the Dean, Masamichi Yaga’s office, the old man not very happy to be dealing with silly boy fist fights on the first day of the newest term. He has been in a nice mood this morning after talking with his bonsai plant, but that’s ruined now. He sounds jolly when he begins his questions, “Boys will be boys, bad boys, right?”  His jolly tone deceives Satoru who nods in agreement.
“No, nonsense. This uncivilised behaviour is unexpected from students of St. Teresa,” He scolds them both. “Which one of you started the fight?”
“Sir, he did,” Satoru says, pointing to his left. “He parked in my spot,”
“It was empty when I came,” Suguru counters, annoyed. “It’s not your father’s parking, is it?”
“You know what, it actually is,” Satoru turns to him, nerves getting the best of him. “My father is the biggest trustee of St. Teresa-”
“You must think that your dad pays my salary as well then, Mr. Gojo,” Dean Yaga intervenes in a sassy voice. “You don’t speak like that in my office, Mr. Gojo. Speaking of your father, I’ve invited him as our first guest speaker, so he’ll be here in a day or two. I’ll let him know of your antics then,”
Satoru quickly turns around, white hair flying in all directions as the anger turns into surprise, blue eyes comically widen,“Please don’t, sir.”
“Now shake your hands like gentlemen and don’t repeat this same mistake,” Yaga says, smiling sweetly. He was an eccentric man - kinder and gentler to his plants than to most of his faculty and students. The two men reluctantly shake their hands and share a plastic smile, if only to get out of the Dean’s office.
- - - - - -
“Satoru, you were acting so recklessly,” you say, applying an ointment to the bruise on his cheekbone. The brunette Tanya, not discouraged by your wine attack, was sitting right beside your boyfriend, worrying herself. Shoko, your best friend, rolls her eyes, not very fond of Tanya or Satoru.
“Who does this new guy think he is, not respecting you?” Tanya says instead, feeding into his bloated ego. “It’s good that you taught him a lesson,”
Yu agrees, always the loyal sidekick. “That’s right, Satoru, he had no right to steal your parking spot then humiliate you like that. Bloody scholarship brat.”
- - - - -
“Suguru, you’ve earnt us scholarship kids respect,” Nanami, the blond man of a few words says. “The way you handled Satoru, I salute you on behalf of all of us.”
Suguru raises his eyebrow to acknowledge his classmate, but continues going forward, excited to hear Isamu Gojo talk about his success in becoming a raging business tycoon in the country while coming from nothing.
“Where are you going?” Kento asks. “You can’t go to the front, that’s for the trust fund kids. Come here, sit with your bank account.”
“I’ll sit where I want,” Suguru says with that calm confidence typical of him. He sits down right next to Shoko, who sat with her friends - Satoru and his group of the one-percenter kids. All of your eyes flit to him, but he seemingly doesn’t care - or if he does, he is doing a great job not showing it.
You take note of his bangs, and his hair in bun - you’re half jealous of his hair and partly angry at his treatment of your boyfriend, but you also admire his confidence. Turning back to Satoru, you see him staring at bangs guy, eyes full of spite - it seems even worse than your spite towards that bitch Tanya. “Satoru, don’t,” you quietly whisper to him, putting your hand on his. He only gives an annoyed glance, which hurts you more than it should have.
“Good morning boys and girls, I am very delighted to have our first session with a guest speaker, one of the leading business tycoons of the country - Isamu Gojo!” Dean Yaga says, and the whole crowd erupts in cheers and applause. Satoru is quick to plug his ears with his earbuds, loud music already blaring through. “We’re glad that you could join us today, Mr. Gojo.”
“I hope you are having a wonderful term so far, ladies and gentlemen,” Isamu Gojo says. He too is a big, tall man with white hair and light eyes, the resemblance with his son almost uncanny. “I would like to correct you, Masamichi, I’m the leading business tycoon of the country,” he then proceeds to laugh at his own joke, enjoying the way the Dean and the teacher’s smile drops. “See, I’m not one for guiding you to bookish studies, your teachers are enough for that. Your teachers teach you the rules of the world, but keep one thing in mind: it's the winners who make those rules. So keep up your winning spirit and dedication, and play the game to win - not to learn the rules.”
He beams with pride as the crowd roars in applause, as if he just hadn’t insulted the whole faculty body of the school. Satoru too joins the applause, even though he hadn’t heard a word - he didn’t need to, hearing the condescending words all the time back at home. Somehow, he’s even more spiteful of his own father than he is of the bangs guy.
- - - - -
“Suguru Geto,” The coach says, noticing Suguru after classes a couple of days later. Everyone knows Suguru by now - his fight with Satoru Gojo, then his calm confidence in classes, with his pretty face and unique hair is the talk of all cliques. “State Level Track gold-medalist and martial arts expert… Have you ever played football?”
“I have, sir,” Suguru says, smiling politely. 
“Why don’t you come for the tryouts tomorrow?” Coach says. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“I’ll be there, sir.” Suguru promises.
Unsurprisingly, Satoru and his loyal sidekick Haibara are a part of the football team. Kiyotaka is acting as the coach’s assistant - keeping things in order for him. Satoru Gojo’s clique tries so hard to ruin Suguru’s tryouts for the team, attempting to trip him, tackle him, but his graceful movements and power packed kicks are more than enough to defend and dodge himself, all the while managing to score a perfect goal. Satoru’s usually pretty face is creased with frowns and scowls, mood sour at Suguru making it into his team. He’ll be sure to rub the bangs guy in the mud once he is appointed captain, determined to show the coach that the village brat is a bastard.
“Haibara, bring me the keys to the notice board,” Satoru says, a devious plan already forming in his head.
“What are you gonna do with that boss?” Haibara asks.
“Just bring me the keys, Haibara.” Satoru says, annoyed.
- - - - -
Two mornings later, Haibara comes to Satoru with the news that the coach was not happy with Suguru and had ordered him to jog 200 laps of the school ground - which Suguru accepted without a voice of protest. Satoru feels awful for what he’s done - delivering piss to the coach’s house and labelling it as Ganga Jal (our equivalent to holy water) signed under Suguru’s name. He watches as Suguru sends Ichiji off - who was supposed to watch his laps, but continues jogging around the perimeter of the massive St. Teresa ground.
Seeing bangs accept the punishment he deserves changes something in him, it gives him a moment of introspection, of why he was villainising the new guy so much. Sure, bangs had parked in his spot, but the spot was empty when he came. He got selected in the team, but because he was actually good at the game. He was becoming the teachers’ favourite, but that was because he was polite and performed well with just enough confidence. The girls that usually fawned over Satoru and his guitar and his music, were now fawning over Suguru’s voice and bangs, never missing the chance to admire him - but Satoru shouldn’t care - he already has the prettiest girl on campus - you.
After class, the aspiring rockstar swallows the bitter pill and calls after Suguru, “Hey! Hey!” Suguru doesn’t listen, is too engrossed in his book and continues walking. Satoru’s long legs pick up speed, and he’s power walking to catch up. “Oh hello, I’m talking to you, bangs!”
“My name is Suguru, you know?” Suguru says with an annoyed sigh.
“Yeah, yeah, Suguru,” Satoru dismisses, continuing to walk beside Suguru, who bookmarks his spot in the book before turning to him. “I came here to say thanks for yesterday morning. You didn’t have to save us, you know. I could’ve handled the coach pretty easily.”
“I know, I didn’t want to do it at all either,” Suguru says, his voice level.
“Then why did you do it?” Satoru says, his cool-kid facade falling a bit.
“I was trying to act like Mahatma,” Suguru says, upturning the book he was reading. It was a biography of Mahatma Gandhi. “I wanted to know what Gandhi felt like being so idealistic.”
“You’ve got some loose screws, man,” Satoru incredulously says, motioning the loose screws with his large hands.
“I may have some loose screws, but you don’t have any.” Suguru deadpans.
“Very funny,” the white haired man scoffs. “You did listen to my dad, I suppose that is bound to make some impact on you.”
“You know, your dad isn’t crazy, he’s a little crooked,” Suguru says. “Which is a good thing, no one reaches that level of money without being at least a little crooked.”
“Show some respect to Gandhi in your hands, man,” Satoru teases, taking the book from him. “The gods made a silly mistake, you should’ve been my father’s son.”
“Why do you care so much about your father?” Suguru says, taking back the Gandhi biography from him, his thin dark eyebrow raised.
“I don’t care for my father or my mother,”
“You do, you’re seeking validation from them.” Suguru observes. “But it seems like all you get from them is money.”
“Wow, and now you’re an expert in parents’ philosophy, right?” Satoru dodges the accusation that hit just a bit too close.
Suguru looks away, the confident demeanour shaking as he says in a small voice, “I am, now that they’re gone.”
“What do you mean gone, are they on a vacation?” Satoru asks, genuinely confused.
“They’re dead,” Suguru says with an accepting sigh. Satoru stops in his tracks, wanting the earth to swallow him whole in that moment - how could he be so stupid and insensitive? “Quit the dramatics, man, yours are alive.”
“You fucker,” Satoru says, a chuckle escaping him. “You motherfucker,” Suguru smirks, accepting the insincere swearing. Satoru’s blue eyes gleam with laughter and he pats his new friend’s chest and says, “Let’s go to the cafeteria. It’s time for me to meet my girlfriend,”
- - - - - - - 
You’re on your way to the cafeteria, enjoying your conversation with Shoko about the newest phone on the market when your good mood is soured by Tanya strutting in your direction, her hefty handbag seemingly weighing her down. Her friends follow her, but you don’t pay attention to them as Tanya comes to a stop in front of you, her head tilted up to look at you and a qualifier smile on her face.
“Have you heard who became the head cheerleader for this term?” Tanya teases, her annoying smirk never leaving her face. “It's Tanya Israni,” She eggs you on, frustrated by the calm smile on your face. “You must be so upset, because this position is only given to the most popular girl of the school,” 
“I’m so happy for you Tanya,” You cooly say, stepping a little closer to her. “Good for you honestly,” You cheer her on, enjoying the confused look on her face. Shoko snickers behind you, fighting the laughter from her face. “You know, it’s really not my style to take pom-poms in my hands and scream and dance to catch men’s attention. I much prefer it if they notice me and try to catch my attention, you know. So, I’m so happy you got to be the head cheerleader.”
You pat her shoulders and walk away, Shoko hot on your heels. 
At the cafeteria, you’re met with Satoru, your pretty boyfriend, who whips out his guitar and sings a song in your praise, and you eat it all up. It’s been quite a while since you’ve got his attention to himself - with bangs taking up most of his time and energy. You bask in the attention he gives you, eyes not missing bangs and the way his mysterious eyes linger on you as if trying to decipher you.
“All the attention on me suddenly?” You ask Satoru, taunting his last few months of hoeing around. “Are you sick? Or did you finally fix yourself?”
“I’m getting back on track,” He jokes, putting his arms around you.
“Or maybe you just want the world to know that she is still dating you,” Shoko teases. She isn’t a fan of Satoru, but she especially hates him now that he’s started taking you for granted.
“There she is, my competition,” Satoru gently punches Shoko’s shoulder, laughing. “Shoko, did you miss me?”
“In your dreams, Satoru,” Shoko shrugs his hand off, taking a whiff of her cigarette. “Besides, your competition is right here. Suguru, right?”
Suguru nods in acknowledgement as Satoru easily orders Yu around.“Haibara, go get chairs for the girls,” 
“Ah, so you’re Suguru,” You say, raising your brow, scrutinising him.
“You’re saying as if you never noticed me,” He deadpans.
“I only saw you, noticing is totally different,” You say, pushing your hair out of your face. “Anyways, I’ve got to run to class now, Satoru. I’ll see you later.” You kiss his cheek and wave at Suguru then grab Shoko and rush to class. Suguru’s dark eyes follow your figure as you leave, trying to see under your rudeness.
“Don’t even think about it, Suguru,” Satoru warns. “That’s my girlfriend.”
“Well, good for you that she’s not my type then,” Suguru says, turning to his friend. “Besides, I have different plans.”
“I don’t care about your plans,” Satoru says, practically radiating with excitement. “I’m just happy that there’s finally someone who can match me.” He then shakes his head and leaves, fixing his glasses on the way out. Haibara returns with the chair, giving an odd look to Suguru, who rolls his eyes and walks away. 
- - - - - - - 
Friendships, breakups, jealousy, parties - all of it was a common occurrence at St. Teresa. But every other weekend, everyone got a reality check - when they went back to their homes.
At the Gojos back in Delhi, Isamu and Akihiko, Satoru’s older brother, were discussing the stock market and the impact of the changing polls on their organisation over dinner, disregarding himself and his mother. Satoru still tries to bond with them, trying to put forth some of his opinions, “Dad, I think-”
“You think?” Isamu taunts. “Since when did that happen?”
“Satoru, leave the thinking to us intellectuals,” Akihiko says. “You focus on your music, that’s what you have talent for, no? I’ll need your help finalising the music for the sangeet function at my wedding, you know. You can think about that. Leave the thinking about the stock market to us.”
Meanwhile at your residence - your mom and her latest husband discuss the gossip of people you couldn’t care less about. How that couple treated your mother, how the woman blatantly ignored her kind words of advice, how she had a horrible taste for the interior of her house - the same old, same old.
“I’m pregnant,” You abruptly say, trying to steer the conversation to some other direction.
“What did you say young lady-” Your mother starts, and your newest step father looks nearly as aghast as you mother.
“I’m kidding,” you say, rolling your eyes with a defeated sigh. “Please continue,”
Back in Dehradun, Suguru sits for dinner with his family - his Chacha, Chachi, cousins and Dadi, mustering up the courage to finally ask for some pocket money for a chemistry project.
“Suguru, everything alright in school?” His uncle asks.
“Yeah, Chachu, everything’s great.” He bites his lip then finally says, “Chachu, actually I needed some money for a chemistry project-”
“Right,” His Chachi intervenes. “Of course, Mr. Ambani, could you please give him some money from your endless bank account?”
His Dadi beats his Chacha to it, saying, “I’ll give you the money,” then she adds. “There’s a little less salt in the food, but okay I’ll manage.”
- - - - - - - -
With Monday, everything is back to normal. There’s a change in the daily life in Saint Teresa now that Satoru and Suguru have become friends, their friendship quickly becoming one of the best the college has ever seen. 
The football team is practising for the yearly match with Saint Lawrence, a match that has been won by their competitors for an unbeatable record of 24 years. Dean Yaga hopes that this will change with this batch, the wonderful players he has got and even more wonderful Coach of theirs.
Coach is in a serious dilemma watching the team practice. Both Satoru and Suguru are brilliant players and would make great captains - but the custom is to have only one captain in the team. Making one captain in favour of another isn’t something he is considering, too much has already happened between the two before they started behaving civilly. 
“Yu Haibara!” Coach calls. “You’re the football team captain for this term.”
Haibara, standing between Suguru and Satoru, is startled at first, then he celebrates with delight. The two friends on either side of him share a smile, accepting their unassigned-assigned co-captaincy of the team.
On the day of the much awaited match, you, Shoko, and Kento take your spot in the bleachers, while Tanya and her cheer squad stand right by the field. Your boys in blue and your opponents in red - the two teams come out of the stands and shake hands before taking positions for the game.
It’s a mess right when it starts - the boys in blue are too defensive, but they are too focused on not letting them score, where they miss the chances to snatch the ball away from them which ultimately led to a goal. Twice before halftime. Standing at an embarrassing 2-0, your side sulks and accepts defeat, ready to lose to Saint Lawrence for the 25th time in a row.
But after the half time, your boys in blue have gone from defensive to offensive, never letting the ball pass to the opposing team in red - keeping the ball to themselves. For a moment the ball goes to the red team, but Satoru is deft to act and snatches the ball away from them with a couple of his antics, not violating any rule of the game. He scores the first goal of the match for the blue team. From the humiliating 2-0 the score was now up to a less embarrassing 2-1. Your side erupted in cheers, and you were perhaps the loudest.
The next goal is just as swift, but this time it's Suguru running with the ball, easily distracting their goalie and scoring a goal. The game is now at a tie of 2-2.
The next time, Yu manages to snag the ball from the red players and then passes the ball to Suguru who keeps two of the red defenders occupied while he pretends to go for the goal and kicks the ball to Satoru whose deft attacks give Saint Teresa the final goal of the match - and the first victory after 25 years. 
The team and the bleachers erupt in cheers, and the new friends and teammates share a hug. They’re jumping on the field, looking at each other with newfound respect and admiration. Suguru’s dark bangs stick to his forehead and Satoru’s white hair drips sweat down to the grass, which he is quick to wipe with the front of his jersey. The girls nearly lose their minds, but his attention is elsewhere.
“Don't kiss me now,” Suguru teases Satoru, yelling over the crowd.
“I won’t even hug you,” Satoru says as he envelopes Suguru in a bear hug, both of them feeling the sheer joy of winning and making their college proud.
Satoru takes Suguru back home to Delhi after their match to celebrate - the lavish mansion with servants at every beck and call leaving a scanning Suguru further steeling his resolve for his success, the only thing he joined Saint Teresa for. Satoru introduces Suguru to his mother, who seems like a meek, kind woman. Suguru holds his hands together in a namaste before her.
“Your father was asking for you, Satoru,” His mother says, wrapping her saree over her free arm.
“Why, is he unwell?” Satoru sarcastically asks, but follows his mother nonetheless, dragging Suguru along.
“Dad this is S-”
“Suguru Geto, I know,” Isamu Gojo shakes his hand as soon as he hangs up the call. “I’ve heard a lot about you, son. You are a popular name among teachers. I hope your determination rubs off on him too.” The way Isamu talks about his own son, his flesh and blood makes Suguru uncomfortable, but as usual he maintains his air of calm confidence.
“Uncle, but today’s victory is all thanks to Satoru, you know.” Suguru says. “If he hadn’t made the goal -”
“Oh really, I didn’t know you were capable of anything outside of playing that damned guitar.” the older white haired man taunts. Satoru grits his teeth, eyes narrowing behind his round sunglasses.
“He doesn’t appreciate it,” Satoru says, voice bitter. “Especially if it’s me,”
“If you want to hear compliments so bad, do something that matters,” Isamu challenges. “Win that Student Of the Year trophy, then we’ll talk.”
“What's the point in winning the trophy, you won't be happy then either,” Satoru says.
“It’s not about me being happy, it’s about ambition,” Isamu says, turning to Suguru, more welcoming of him than his own son. “You tell me, Suguru, would you win the Student of the Year trophy?”
“That trophy is mine sir,” Suguru says with his signature confidence, his voice smooth and even. “Now we just have to wait for it to get home,”
“That’s the spirit,” Isamu says, patting the dark-haired man’s shoulders. “I’m happy to hear that. Maybe some of your influence will rub off on Satoru with time. Now tell me, where do you see yourself in the future?”
“As you,” Suguru says, then seeing the creased brow, he elaborates on their similarities - small town kids growing up with low money, then taking the market by a storm with sheer force of will and strategic decisions. “Maybe even a bigger business tycoon than you.”
“Now this is ambition,” Isamu says, beaming with pride. “I love your confidence, my son. Maybe not everyone wants to play a guitar now.”
“Let’s go Suguru,” He says, eager to leave his golden cage.
(Vele)
Delhi’s buzzing nightlife is where Satoru takes him for their celebration. Even though it’s just the two of them, Suguru feels strange seeing his friend interact with everyone. Of course, he was familiar with the nightlife, but he’s always been there to work, never to enjoy. Satoru with his fluffy white hair and bright blue eyes and charming words is popular among the crowd - both the men and the women. It takes him some time - a couple days - to loosen up and feel the music.
Satoru is pressing up behind a giggly woman, his signature smirk on his lips and his glasses down just enough to tease the pretty colour of his eyes. He easily moves with her, going beyond just casually dancing with her. Suguru is entertaining a girl as well, but he’s not much into it - he isn’t fond of meaningless connections.
In the morning, they get a smoke - Satoru is so different from his night self - zoned out and blue eyes droopy with a longing. “Suguru… do you miss your parents?” he suddenly asks.
Suguru takes a moment to process the question, flashes of his happier times passing in his head. “Hmm, I do,” He says, nodding.
“Me too,” Satoru says, eyes focused on something and nothing at the same time.
Come the night, Satoru is back to his womaniser self - this time having two women splayed over him rather than just one. Suguru’s mind suddenly flashes your pretty face, and he wonders if you’d approve of his behaviour. He’s disgusted by Satoru’s behaviour, how he’s an attentionwhore but is not letting you go either. He might be too poor to understand your setup, he thinks.
The next night, they’re back on campus and the whole school is celebrating at the nearest club - Satoru is again getting cosy with Tanya, not even noticing you. You’re outraged and want to cause a scene, but you don’t. You don’t know what’s gotten into him in the past year, why he’s been going out and letting women get so close to him. Why did he need this much attention? Why couldn’t you leave him? You go to the bar, and to your surprise, Bangs is the one to notice your sulking self and he gets you shot. The two of you down the bitter drink, and he flashes his. And for some reason, you find yourself smiling even when he’s gone.
The next weekend, Suguru and Satoru are back in Delhi, smoking at their usual spot when Suguru finally asks him, “Do you love her?”
“I’m a little confused,” Satoru admits, looking down.
“About her?” Suguru asks, brow creased.
“About love,” Satoru admits, looking down at his phone.
“Are you gay?” Suguru asks incredulously.
Satoru chuckles, pulling Suguru close with his shirt. “Yeah, I am come here,”
“Oi, shut up!” Suguru smacks him away, laughing.
By the night, Satoru is too drunk, and Suguru drives the blue Ferrari back to the lavish Gojo house, picks up his drunk friend and drops him on his bed. Satoru mumbles at him to stay the night. Suguru too is exhausted, and he’s out like a lightbulb almost as soon as he drops to the bed. In the morning, the loud blaring of an electric guitar in an unfamiliar but upbeat tune wakes him up. Suguru goes to the balcony and sees the Gojo family, minus Satoru having breakfast and decides to join them.
“Good morning Uncle, Good morning Aunty,” Suguru greets them. “We got late last night so Satoru asked me to stay,”
“That’s alright my son, come sit with us.” Isamu says, motioning to the empty chair. “You’re listening to what we have to put up with every morning? Our little maestro is practising,”
“I was thinking I'd ask him for music recommendations for my sangeet but listening to this, I was terribly wrong.” Akihiko says. “It’s just noise.”
“Yeah, son, Akihiko is getting married, you should join us.” Isamu says. “Yu, Yaga, Coach, Tanya and the girl who is too good for Satoru, they're all coming.”
“Satoru didn’t say anything about-” Suguru reluctantly says.
“Yeah, he isn’t invited yet,” Isamu and his oldest laugh at his joke. “No need to worry about tickets and stay, we’ll go via our jet and there’s accommodation for everyone, my son.”
“Thank you, sir.” Suguru says, his smile reserved. He cannot fathom why Isamu antagonises his own flesh and blood this much. Satoru arrives as Isamu and Akihiko leave, and they don’t leave without a taunt. “Mr. Gojo just invited me to your brother’s wedding,” Suguru says, taking a sip of the orange juice as Satoru sits down next to him.
“Wow, maybe he’ll write your name in his will too,” Satoru says, rolling his eyes.
“That’s the plan,” Suguru teases.
“Remember, the dad comes with the property,” Satoru warns, mocking his father.
“With a bank balance like that I’ll handle everyone,” Suguru jokes, and Satoru just shakes his head, unaware of his own privilege.
- - - - - - 
The wedding party lands in Thailand with much pomp - the first day they only relax and enjoy Thailand. Your mood is sour again - Satoru spent the whole flight flirting with Tanya and enjoying her advances, letting her touch him in ways that only you should be able to. On top of that Shoko wasn’t there, and now you had to spend the entire weekend with this.
When you land, Tanya starts enquiring about the luggage, to which you say, “Didn’t all of your clothes fit in your handbag?” and Satoru has the nerve to get mad at you - telling you that you should mind your tongue.
“Welcome to Thailand,” Bangs says, when he crosses you.
Later, you go to the resort’s beach, hoping to finally get some time with Satoru - only to see him lying on Tanya’s lap as she smothers his chest in sunscreen. Your sour mood turns bitter, and you go back to your room, eyes threatening to spill. But you take a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. Was it so easy for him to let loose after four years of being your boyfriend? Was he no longer attracted to you? You ponder with the thought of leaving him, but you don’t want to give him up - you love him, you think, and you don’t want your four years to go to waste.
Unbeknownst to you, bangs was feeling similar towards Satoru’s dismissal of you - seriously questioning his friend as to why he was even looking at other girls with you by his side. If it were up to Suguru and he had a girlfriend as amazing and pretty as you, he wouldn’t even look at other women.
The next morning, you see Satoru with Tanya - whose shrill voice is just a pitch lower than a moan. She’s massaging his back and letting out sounds which can only be described as ones of pleasure. You know about pleasure, of course - but you don’t sound that obnoxious.
“Should I massage your neck, while she massages your back?” You ask Satoru, voice sickly sweet. He takes off his glasses, blue eyes narrowed in annoyance and pushes his fluffy hair away from his face before acknowledging you. Tanya’s hands get more lecherous, a smirk on her face as her dark eyes meet yours.
“What do you mean?” Satoru asks, sounding almost mad at you.
You don’t back down, saying, “I thought you were too fond of massages,” motioning to the way he was sitting in front of Tanya.
“I’m only helping Satoru release his tension, he’s always so stressed.” Tanya says, her voice artificially shrill and concerned. “See, his back has so many knots.”
“Why don’t you open a massage stall then? Everyone in Bangkok would come to you to release their stress.” You snap at her, the dam breaking.
“That’s enough! Why are you acting so insecure?” Satoru has the audacity to get mad at you, looking down at you with such annoyance that you actually start thinking that you’ve done something wrong. “I’m only chilling with my friends, no? What’s so wrong with that?”
The damn holding your tears back breaks, “There’s nothing wrong, absolutely nothing,” your voice breaks and you rush away, tears spilling.
You stand by an isolated spot, away from everyone’s eyes, letting your tears flow freely. Why is everything going wrong between you and Satoru? Did he not love you anymore? Did he ever love you? You can hear Shoko’s voice, telling you to leave him, that you deserve someone so much better than him. If he does all of that in front of you, what’s to say what he does behind your back? She had said.
Suddenly, Bangs is standing beside you, and you’re quick to wipe away your tears. You don’t want to see Satoru’s sidekick come and lecture you - you’ve had enough of that from Haibara, and you don’t want to hear the same thing from bangs. “So typical of Satoru,” You say, voice nasal from all the crying. “He can’t come face me himself, so he sends his sidekick to wipe my tears.”
“Firstly, I’m no one’s sidekick,” Bangs says, handing you a white handkerchief. It has a small back embroidery of his initials. “Secondly, I’m not here to wipe your tears, you’ve got a runny nose.” You take the white muslin cloth and quickly wipe your nose. “You’re the classy type, it doesn’t suit you.” For a moment you think that he’s talking about Satoru, but you’re quick to dismiss the thought. “Now that I’m here, do you want to tell me what’s happening or sing a lovely song for me?”
You don't look at him, focusing your teary gaze on a random spot in the distance. “I’m so fed up with Satoru,” You hate the way your voice sounds nasal, giving away just how much everything was affecting you. You felt weak and exposed, but for some reason you felt you wouldn’t get judgement from Bangs. “I’ve known him for 10 years, been dating him for 4, and from the past year it feels like all of this is a big mistake.”
“Then why not leave him?” Bangs gently suggests, but it sounds more like a genuine question and not a statement.
“I don’t like breaking relationships,” You admit.
“Then do something to get him on the right path,” He says, and you finally look at him, noticing him for the first time.
“How so?” You ask, brow raised.
“Maybe take a wrong path yourself,” He shrugs, the sun hits his shades and bangs perfectly, and you can see the violet of his eyes from this close under the sun. You cross your arms over your chest, a devious plan forming in your head with Suguru’s pretty face in your mind.
(Radha)
In the evening, you decide to take the stage and perform to the song, having coordinated with the music set up and the bride and groom. Akihiko was way too excited to see his brother get put in his place, agreeing to your idea immediately. Everything is a deliberate plan - from your pink blouse to your lehenga skirt and the way it hugs your figure in the most flattering of ways you feel and look hot.
Satoru and Tanya stand in the audience as the music starts to play, stopping the hushed whispers exchanging. Her back is still pressed against his chest, enjoying the warmth he offers. For a change, Satoru has ditched his glasses and is adorning a fancy golden kurta, the colour flattering his pale complexion and white hair. Tanya too is dressed in a sexy golden saree - and they look too much like a couple for your taste. That makes your resolve all the more strong.
Satoru watches with a crease between his white brows seeing a familiar figure on the stage, but her face is veiled by the dupatta, the lighting just dim enough to make the face of the girl a mystery. The music starts to play and when the dupatta veil falls after a few steps to reveal your pretty face - Satoru is stunned. You’re too sexy, all for him to admire. He covers his face, part astonished, part embarrassed. Tanya grits her teeth, but smiles along when Satoru tells her how pretty you look. Suguru on the other hand, dressed in a lovely navy kurta that compliments his dark hair and pretty eyes, raises his hands and cheers you on.
Much to Satoru’s surprise while dancing to the music, instead of coming to him in the crowd, you go to Suguru. An indescribable feeling climbs up his throat at the sight of you dancing and enjoying with his best friend - your steps complimenting each other so well. Tanya tries to distract him, and for a while he is distracted. Until he sees you again - you’re coming toward him so he pushes Tanya out of your way - but you only push him in a mix of playfulness and annoyance and return to Suguru. 
Satoru, being the rockstar that he is, easily catches the beat of the music and is able to keep up with your practised steps, trying to get closer to you.
For a moment, the three of you are dancing together, but you lean more toward your boyfriend’s best friend - disregarding him as he has been disregarding you. Somewhere with the music, your Dean Yaga takes up the Dafli and surprises everyone with how well he plays the instrument. You, Satoru and Suguru join him on the stage, and Yaga turns into a blushing mess with all the compliments. 
Suguru is surprised to have you dancing this close to him, even with your dance performance over and the DJ being open for everyone. He pushes you away when you get a bit too close, for perfume all up in his nose and your pretty, decorated eyes looking up at him with such affection. He grabs your shoulders and pushes you back a little when you get too close again - worried about all the eyes on him and you - he doesn’t want to cause a scene. He can feel Satoru’s burning gaze on the two of you and he does not like that.
When you get too close a couple more times, he’s finally had enough and grabs your arm to take you away from the crowd, brows creased and a scowl on his face. Suguru doesn’t like this spark that ignites inside him with your pretty face and sweet voice and lovely outfit. He shouldn’t feel this way about you - you’re his best friend’s girlfriend, after all.
“What do you think you’re doing?” His yell isn’t loud, but his voice is scolding.
But the playfulness doesn’t leave your eyes, and you look at him as if he should be in on some secret that he isn’t in on. “You only said to take the wrong path,” you say, a teasing smile on your lips, enjoying the frustrated expression on his usually stoic confident face. “What’s a better wrong path than you?”
“Don’t be stupid, girl,” He scoffs. “Satoru is my best friend,”
“That’s why you’re perfect.” You explain, and your pretty eyes are such a tease, Suguru thinks. “You’re helping your friend by saving his relationship, and I know you won’t try to take advantage of me. Maybe we’ll also become friends by this. It’s not a bad thing, you see. Right?” You put your hands on his crossed arms, your bangles clinking as you try to shake him into agreement
His purple eyes gaze at you for a long moment, and you pretend to fix your bangles, feeling flustered under his steady gaze. You didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself if he refused your offer.
“You’re not as stupid as you seem,” Suguru has a rare, genuine smile on his face, calm, steady voice returning. “So… What’s the plan?”
You look up at him with a child-like smirk, twirling your dupatta between your fingers. “Now we’re talking,” you say, then you drag him away.
Unbeknownst to you, Satoru’s eyes have been following the two of you and he didn’t know he was capable of feeling such jealousy - until he saw you with Suguru - perhaps the only man who can compare to him. He cannot hear the words you exchanged, but the ways you looked at each other spoke louder to him than any words ever could. Have you ever looked at him like that? Like the way you teasingly looked up at Suguru, batting your pretty eyes at him?
The next morning, Satoru is lying in the sun on the beach, with Tanya sitting behind him, lotion in her hand. He sat up straight on seeing you, eyes peeled and sunglasses off - you’re so hot in a yellow and honey coloured bikini - hair wet from the time you had spent in the water. The sun makes your skin glow like the goddess that you are, trying not to laugh at the way your boyfriend’s jaw has dropped, the girl sitting behind him long forgotten. Satoru half raises his hands, wanting you to sit with him. It’s comical the way both their heads turn when you go past him to Suguru, who was casually laying in the sun, shades on his eyes and reading a business magazine.
“May I sit here?” You ask the pretty guy with the bangs, voice deliberately sultry.
“Yeah, sure,” He says, putting down the magazine and sitting up to make space for you behind him. Satoru and Tanya have extremely confused expressions plastered on their faces, and Satoru looks like a kicked puppy his blue eyes narrowed and lips pouty that you almost let up the act. Almost.
You sit behind him, sure to make your curves stand out just a bit more, fixing your hair to one side. You let out a small gasp, touching Suguru’s toned shoulders over his shirt. “Oh dear, you seem so stressed,” you say in the same sultry voice. “May I help in releasing all this tension of yours?”
“Please,” Suguru says with a sigh, head turned away from Satoru but towards you. You try to ignore the way his voice affects you. But can’t really blame yourself - his already nice voice is now deliberately sinful. You pull his open shirt off his shoulders, admiring his back. You don’t need to pretend to fawn over him, a realisation that disturbs you more than it should.
Taking some lotion in your hand, you begin massaging his back, both of you playing the part well of making noises that sound much like sounds of pleasure - it’s funny the way Satoru suddenly straightens up and Tanya tries to mimic you, trying to get Satoru to make noises similar to the one Suguru was making. The man in front of you sounds incredibly sexy, even if it was just pretend. Your brain begins a thought - if this is how good he sounds when pretending, how much nicer he’d sound with the real - but you stub it before the thought completes.
When Satoru doesn’t make any noises, too focused on the way you’re touching his best friend - the pretty hands that should be touching him instead - Tanya asks him to make some noise, in order to assert some sense of dominance. Satoru lets out a funny noise of complaint, throws his sunglasses in the sand and stalks away.
The two of you giggle and share a high-five, watching the squirming Satoru rush away from you. Your plan was working perfectly.
Later in the evening, you enjoy a stroll on the beach with Suguru, his silky hair down for a change, the wind making it flow in a graceful dance. You’ve never wanted to touch someone's hair this bad ever before, so you reach out and do - his hair is softer than any fabric you’ve ever touched. Suguru gives you a small smile.
He’s mesmerised by the way your eyes soften, the moonlight making you glow. He’s unaware of everything except you, of how your eyes are looking at him kindly, of how you mentioned having a rough relationship with your mother and never knowing your father, of telling you about the time his parent’s car had crashed, taking them away from him.
“He’s gone,” you whisper, and he’s pulled out the trance your eyes had put him in. “You’re such a nice actor Suguru,” you say, a cheery smile returning to your face. “Let’s go back in now before it gets too dark.”
The next morning, Suguru sips his champagne and watches you with a heavy heart, you look so pretty in your white and gold lehenga, dancing to the music with the mehendi drying on your hands. He’s admiring you from afar - seeing as you spot Satoru and make a sour face at him, then turning around to see him with a bright smile on your face. You mouth to him if she looks okay, and he mouths back that you look fantastic, doing the okay gesture with his fingers and grinning. You’ve accidentally matched - the yellows and oranges of your lehenga matching his kurta. Your focus is diverted back to the music, and your dance is graceful.
“Oi, why are you acting like Romeo all of a sudden?” Satoru says, rolling the sleeves of his light blue kurta, seemingly squaring up. “I’ve been seeing this for two days now. What happened to her not being your type?”
“Well, she is now,” Suguru says, taking a sip from his glass.
“Stay away from her,” Satoru says, brow creased and lips pressed in distaste. 
“And why would I do that?” Suguru challenges, raising a brow.
“She’s my girlfriend-” the white haired man says, blue eyes wide with rage.
“Since when?” Suguru asks, steadily holding his gaze.
“Don’t play with me Suguru,” Satoru says, ready to snap. “I’m being serious,”
“You? Serious?” Suguru notes. “Satoru, your whole problem is that you aren’t serious. You don’t have the time to be serious.”
“What-” Satoru stammers.
“Meaning that - when was the last time you held her hand? Hugged her? Looked into her eyes and spoke to her? Told her that you love her?” Suguru fires the questions straight at his best friend.
“Who even -” Satoru gets defensive all of a sudden.
“Stop acting like a cool dude.” Suguru asserts. Then, with a smirk on his face, he teases, “Seeing her with me made you jealous, right? You were scared, right?” Satoru can only nod, hiding his eyes with his fluffy hair.
“Good, because that was our scheme to bring you back to the right track.” Suguru finally confesses, seeing his disheartened best friend.
“What do you mean scheme,” He began. “You and -”
“Yeah,” Suguru nods. “You aren’t going to find a girl like her, man. I mean just look at her, she is beautiful.” His voice turns softer, serene, “The way she laughs, the way she dramatises things, names fashion designers on little things. She has the brains, the anger, but she has the right too. She lacks love and affection, she wants love. She isn’t too clever, maybe that is why she is in love with you.”
Satoru is truly stupefied by his friend’s assessment of you. “You’re so sweet, Suguru,” he teases, playfulness back in his crystal blue eyes. “You did a PhD on her just to put some sense into me.”
Suguru puts his hands on his friend’s shoulders, encouraging him, “Okay, now go and be nice to her. If you let her go, I’ll catch her.”
Satoru elbows him, saying, “If you do that, I’ll kill you.” He steps away, but a thought bothers him, “Are you sure you dont like her?”
“Her?” Suguru teases. “It’s you-”
Satoru smacks his shoulder, but then pulls him into a hug. He’s so grateful to have a friend like Suguru, how he showed him what he was doing wrong.
The sound of your name from Satoru’s smart mouth has you turning around, and he takes that opportunity to finally wrap his arms around you, muttering, “I’m really sorry baby,”
“Shhh,” you hush him. “It’s said that hiding your boyfriend’s name in your mehendi, if he finds it then it may be a love to last different lifetimes,”
He takes your hand, his blue eyes full of adoration, “Shall I try?”
“Yes,” You snarkily say, taking Tanya’s hand and handing it to him.
And finally he ignores her in favour of you, muttering your name like an apology. You’re not yet done testing him, so you wipe the wet mehendi on his face, smearing his porcelain skin a dark muddy colour.
In the evening, during the wedding ceremony, as the bride enters with her brothers and uncles, you rush - the stubborn jhumki not locking properly. You hastily motion for two more minutes to the other bridesmaids, running and trying to put the jhumki on your right ear at the same time. Fortunately you see Suguru, and show him the state of your jhumki, unable to keep the smile off your face. He thinks you’re adorable like this, annoyed at a stubborn piece of jewellery.
Suguru takes the jhumki from your hand, instead styling your hair in a manner to keep the missing earring hidden. His purple eyes are so expressive in their appreciation of your yellow-gold outfit and makeup - it makes you feel so beautiful. His large hands are gentle on your hair and it comes as no surprise that he was so good at styling your hair. 
You join the bridal party quickly, spotting Satoru, who makes a gesture of heat on seeing you, you return his gesture - but with a throwing-up one. He laughs, but the smile disappears once he sees his father hug his older brother, so full of pride that he’s never seen.
Tanya is quick to snatch the silver tray of rose petals in your hands, and you laugh, running your hands through your hair only to feel your absent jhumki, suddenly remembering Suguru. You turn around, trying to find him, only to see him already looking at you, a pretty smile on his pretty face. You motion him to come closer to the mandap, and when he refuses, you walk over to him and grab a hold of his arm, wanting him to stay close to you. He still refuses, but he has a smile on his face, a smile worth swooning over, you note.
A heavy hand settles on your shoulder, and Satoru’s blue eyes sparkle with a smile as they take you in, wanting you to stay with him. You refuse him at first, not wanting to leave Suguru behind, but when his bangs move as he shakes his head, allowing you to go, you let up in your attempts to get him. Satoru takes you right out of his hands, taking you close to the mandap and sitting behind the bride and the groom.
He has a quiet laugh on his face when you make a face at him, and you cannot recall the last time he had been this nice to you. Pushing that thought behind, you look at the rituals, when Satoru elbows you, telling you without words that soon you’ll be in place of his brother and sister in law. You’re quick to dismiss him, too quick, smacking his hand off yours.
- - - - - - - -
After the wedding weekend, Suguru has become a little more distant, only speaking when spoken to. 
Shoko is on her way to class when she sees Suguru’s usually inexpressive eyes filled with a deep longing, only to see you and Satoru in his line of sight. You still hadn’t gotten the time to catch her up to speed, but she cannot mistake the softness of his eyes. You’re sitting on Satoru’s lap, with him making you giggle over something, his white hair all up in your face.
“Hey,” She says, walking up to you and Satoru. You say a cheerful hi, a beaming smile on your face.
“Your boyfriend’s here, baby,” Satoru teases. He gently punches her shoulder, saying, “Hey handsome,”
“Can we do this later?” Shoko asserts. “Come with me,” She tells you. You kiss Satoru’s cheek before getting up and walking out of his earshot with your best friend, curious about what was bothering her.
The sound of your name has your attention, and she begins, “Look, I don’t know what happened between you guys this weekend,” she pauses, looking into your eyes. “But I just saw Suguru, and I think that he likes you,”
“Suguru? Are you mad?” You dismiss her concern with a small shake of your head. “Satoru and I are now stable because of his help,”
“He was staring at you girl,” She says. “Only one-sided lovers look at other people like that,”
“You were also staring at him,” You tease, bumping against her shoulder with a chuckle. “Sorry, you were observing him,”
“Don’t try to act so smart now,” She says, a frown on her face. “I just let you know what I saw, the rest is your choice.” Shoko walks away, leaving you staring at her brown bob.
You think over her words for a moment, and your feet involuntarily take you to Suguru. He was easy to spot in the crowd - his tall stature and his dark bun gave him away easily.
“Good morning, Suguru,” You say, trying to be cheerful.
“Morning,” He acknowledges you, voice back to his indifferent confidence. He’s quickly turning around, not waiting for you.
“Listen!” You call, and he turns to you. “I just wanted to thank you once again…”
“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” He says, quickly turning away once again.
“Suguru…” You say his name, fiddling with your fingers. You don’t know why you feel this nervous. He wouldn’t be the first guy to like you, but then why was your heart beating so furiously, why was your face burning. “Is everything fine? Like between the two of us?”
“No, nothing is fine,” Suguru says, fully turning to you. His cold indifference hurts you more than you’d like to admit. It hurts in a way different from Satoru’s indifference. His indifference makes you mad, but Suguru’s detached voice makes you sad. You don’t know if it's a good thing or a bad one.
You suddenly feel the need to explain yourself for some reason, words coming out with a stammer, which was unlike yourself. “Suguru, I love Satoru,”
“I know,” He says, his voice even. “Are you telling that to me or yourself?” Your taken aback by his question, but before you can answer, he adds, “I came to Saint Teresa with one thing in mind - to make a better future for myself and win that Student of the Year trophy… got distracted for a bit, but now I see my goal crystal clear, and no one can come between me and the trophy now.”
The Competition
Dean officially announces the SOTY competition open: four phases and eight finalists and one winner. Starting from the aptitude exam, to the treasure hunt, the dance competition and the final triathlon - the competition is meant to judge the students on all grounds, and only the one who is the best at everything wins.
Everyone is spending their every waking minute preparing for the aptitude assessment in their own way - hiding the fact that they are studying from their friends. You pretend to read Vogue instead of your textbooks, Shoko pretends to sleep but holds up a torch in her comforter to read. Nanami stacks books on top of books, the ever studious man of the school. Satoru pretends to compose music but he’s actually going through his statistics notes, with you helping him with his coffee and providing motivation to each other to study. Suguru has grown a little more detached from your circle, but he doesn’t hide the fact that he is preparing for the exam. Tanya is spending her time preparing - to cheat, that is, making her settings with the nerds. Haibara tries to mug everything up, but finally gives up and starts focusing on his prayers instead.
Come the time of the result announcement - all of you make it to the top sixteen, moving on to the next round -  the treasure hunt. To everyone’s surprise - Tanya makes it into the top 16, with the 16th position, Satoru makes it to the 10th spot, you make it to the 6th, Shoko makes it to the 4th, Suguru to the 3rd, Nanami to the 2nd. But to everyone - even Dean Yaga who was announcing the result, he had to take his glasses off and read correctly - it was Yu Haibara of all people that got the 1st position. Nanami nearly lost his mind, with Ichiji having held the blond man back to stop him from attacking Yu right there.
Once the gang's all outside, Kento grabs Haibara by the collar of his blazer and demands, “How the fuck did you get first?” 
“I don’t know, I just said Jai Mata Di and marked all the answers,” Haibara says.
“Nanami, stop being such a drama queen,” Satoru complains. “All that matters is that all of us are in the top 16 now. What does it matter who wins or loses?”
“It matters,” Suguru says, volunteering in a conversation involving someone other than Satoru for the first time in days. “We have big intentions, and you have an affluent dad. You can easily join any university per your choice… We don’t have that privilege.”
“You’re after my dad so much,” Satoru says, making gestures with his hands. “Please take my dad and give me your intentions instead.”
Suguru just shakes his head at that, but Tanya intervenes with her sultry voice, “If you want my intentions,” she twirls her hair. “I’ll happily give them to you.”
You can feel Satoru’s hand raise, but you push it down by his shoulder, yet he still manages to blow a kiss in her direction. “The entire college knows of your intentions, Tanya,” You say, pushing down your boyfriend’s hand which blows a kiss at her yet again despite your efforts. “We’re drifting off topic here. We were talking about the competition and I believe there shouldn’t be any competition among friends. Right, Shoko?”
“Right…” Shoko says. “That’s why you were hiding when you were studying?” Satoru pushes you away, but you still hold his arm. Shoko continues, “Come on guys, if our goal is the same, there will be a competition,”
Satoru makes a pouty face, hissing to tease her,“Shoko, does that mean to win the competition yourself, you’ll make your best friend face defeat?”
“Yes,” Suguru says without hesitation, and all heads turn to him. “Perhaps,”
“He’s kidding,” Satoru chuckles, but Suguru doesn’t add to that, turning the pages of his book instead.
A couple days later, the top 16 after the aptitude test got to the fun part - the treasure hunt involving the entire campus. Four teams of four members each.
Suguru, Haibara, you were in one team, Team A; Satoru, Nanami, Shoko and Tanya in Team B and the rest were divided into two other teams. Taking their first clue, the teams rushed to solve the riddle to get to their respective locations. 
Suguru opened the clue card, reading out the riddle: Neela Asmaan Upar bhi Neela Asman Neeche bhi, paana hai jawab, toh gehrayi me jaao janab. (Blue sky above, blue sky below too, If you want to get the answer, then go deep sir.)
Haibara whines on hearing the riddle, snatching the envelope and scanning it as if to see any answer that maye have been hidden. “Yaar, what does this clue even mean? How can there be a sky up and sky below too? The first clue itself has our hopes running in the water,”
“Haibara, you’re a genius!” Suguru says, grabbing the brunet’s shoulders and shaking him.
“Really?” Haibara beams, before Suguru yells, “No!” leaving him confused. Suguru takes off, leaving the three of you to chase him with your shorter legs.
Meanwhile, Satoru opened Team B’s first clue and read out the riddle: Atit ki muskaan hai ajit ki pyaari, Nazron se peechha kare, adbhut hai ye naari. (The smile of the past is Ajit's beloved, follows you with her eyes, this woman is amazing.)
“Who’s this Ajit?” Nanami asks. frowning. “Any faculty member?”
“No, it’s not a faculty member,” Satoru says, thinking hard. 
“I only know one Ajit (Ajit Khan),” Nanami says, and Satoru catches up. The both of them simultaneously say, “Mona darling, sona kahan hai?” (Mona darling, where’s the gold? - an iconic dialogue)
“Anywhere,” Tanya says in her sultry voice, playing with her hair. She’s just happy to be part of Satoru’s team.
“That’s it!” Shoko screams. “It’s the Mona Lisa!” and the four of them take off running to find the room with the Mona Lisa.
In the meantime, Suguru reaches the swimming pool, where you, Haibara and your fourth teammate frown, when Suguru recites the riddle again and deciphers it to be the swimming pool. He’s quickly taken off his shoes, socks and t-shirt and jumps into the pool, finding the next clue at the bottom.
You open the clue as Suguru puts his shirt and shoes back on. The clue reads: Ped bhi hu aur nahi bhi, baat karo toh sunu bhi, khoobsurat hu aisi mai, ke baat kare guru bhi (I am a tree and I’m not, if you talk then I listen, I’m so beautiful, that the teacher also talks to me)
“Tree, the plantations?” Haibara suggests and the four team members rush from the swimming pool to the plantations.
Team B finds Mona Lisa in the assembly hall, a brick with her hair holding the clue. Even Satoru has to jump to fetch that clue. The second riddle read: Farishte ne gaaye zindagi ke geet, asmaan se aayega unka mit, sade nau baje unka milan, jawab degi suraj ki kiran. (The angels sang the songs of life, their friends would come from the sky, meeting at nine thirty, the sun's beam would answer.) 
“Where will we get angels?” Tanya dumbly asks.
Satoru leans close to her, and says in an annoyed voice, “In the canteen,”
“Really?” Tanya says, seemingly believing him.
The answer suddenly strikes Satoru, and he yells out, “The Church, the Church! We have only five minutes to nine-thirty, run!”
It’s hard for Shoko and Tanya to keep up with Satoru and Nanami’s long legs, but they somehow manage. They reach the church just in time - and the sun beam is falling on the Hymn Book of the choir. Satoru is quick to snatch the clue out of the book, and reads: aakhri padav aakhri mystery, kitni majboot hai aapki chemistry (Last stop, last mystery, how strong is your chemistry)
“Let’s go, chemistry lab!” Satoru yells, and Team B rushes away.
“Wait, wait!” You yell, stopping your teammates. “It said tree so we rushed here, but there is no guru visible!”
“Yaar are we looking for this guru or the plant?” Haibara asks.
“We’re looking for the clue,” Suguru deadpans.
“I’m telling you this is not working,” You pant out.
“If you have any other bright idea why don’t you share it with the class?” Suguru says, annoyed.
“Why are you being so mean?” You snap.
“Yeah, man, leave bhabhi alone,” Haibara says, at which Suguru snaps even worse than he did at you. “Abey! Bhabhi hogi teri.” (idk how to write this in english)
“Who is the guru on this campus?” You ask, catching your breath.
“Waheguru?” Haibara prompts.
“We don’t have a Gurdwara on campus, Yu!” You say, frustrated.
“Well, there should be one!” Haibara protests.
“Take that up with Yaga!” Suguru says.
“That’s it!” You jump, clasping your hands as if releasing them would take your answer away. “The guru is Yaga! He’s famous for talking to his bonsai plant!” Then you all rush off to Dean Yaga’s office, finally finding your third clue. You snap the envelope open as Suguru lifts up the bonsai plant, and quickly start reading out loud: aazad hindustan ki peheli awaaz, khamosh kamra batayega yeh raaz. (The first voice of independent India, a silent room will tell this secret.)
“The silent room! It’s the library,” Suguru yells and all of you run to the library.
“Nanami, fast, grab the envelope!” Shoko yells. Satoru beats him to it, opening it only to find a blank envelope.
“What man, Nanami, it's blank!” Satoru gets frustrated and shoves the envelope to Nanami.
“I’m sorry on behalf of the organisers!” Nanami snaps back.
Shoko snatches the envelope from Nanami, shushing the two idiots up. “Let me think,” she says.
“Now what exactly are we looking for?” Haibara asks once you are in the library.
“Independent India's first voice…” you mumble trying to recall your history lesson. “It was Nehru,” you remember. 
“Tryst with destiny!” Suguru suddenly remembers, and the four of you rush to the history section.
“You were right, Shoko!” Nanami says, rubbing the ammonia solution on the black envelope. “The ammonia makes the ink visible!”
“Okay okay, now what does it say?” Shoko asks, jumping with excitement.
The final clue is same for everyone, the riddle saying: khush toh bohot hoge tum ki yeh hai aakhri padav, savere waali ghanti se paar hoga yeh chadav, dhyaan se padhna isko aur dena apna sujhav, kyunki upar waale alfaz karenge jeet ka chunav. (You will be very happy that this is your last stop, this climb will be crossed by the morning bell, read this carefully and give your suggestion, because the above words will choose the victor.)
“The morning bell?” Haibara mutters. “Our period bell?”
Team A runs from the library, climbing up the stairs to try and reach the period bell. On their way, they spot Team B, already higher up in the floors, closer to the period bell of the school. Suguru, Haibara and you find the step ladder and pull it near to the bell, and Haibara quickly climbs up the ladder as you and Suguru hold on to it for stability. Meanwhile, Nanami has taken to walking on the roof instead of taking the normal path, surprising everyone.
Soon it’s a race between Nanami and Haibara, and Haibara wins, striking the bell first. Just then, Ichiji comes and yells, “It's the wrong answer!”
“Oh! Oh! It’s the bell tower!” You yell, excited as you realise the answer. Suguru tries to shush you, but you yell again, “It’s the bell tower!”
“Thanks, bestie!” Shoko yells from above, and the next chase is between you and her, and she is faster. From the lecture building to the bell tower it’s a hard chase, and you’re already too out of breath, so Shoko manages to climb the stairs more swifty than you can. You reach the top just as Shoko rings the bell, only to be told that this answer is wrong as well.
Both your teams have gathered back in the ground, with all eight minds thinking over the riddle over and over. Aaj khush toh bohot hoge tum, Suguru and Satoru seemingly share a brain cell and think of the iconic dialogue of the movie Deewaar. In the scene of the dialogue, Amitabh Bacchan’s character can be seen ranting to the goddess in a temple.
They both look at each other, spelling out a swear word and sprint off to the in campus temple. They are both fast, but Satoru has an upper hand of not having his drenched pants weighing him down. It’s an intense run down between two best friends having a fun rivalry - running to win rather than to defeat. Satoru takes a head start, but Suguru’s track medals have not been in vain and he manages to outrun Satoru and hit the bell just a moment earlier than Satoru, falling to his knees on the white marble of the goddess Saraswati’s temple, both of them bursting out in laughter and sharing a high five.
After Dean Yaga congratulates Team A and praises Team B’s performance, Satoru puts his hand on Suguru’s shoulder and pats his chest. “Let’s go celebrate, you win, Suguru,” He says, peeking up at him from behind his glasses. “I want to go home with you?”
“Why do you want to go home with me?” Suguru asks, raising his eyebrow.
“I am craving some home-made food,” Satoru says. “Come on, please,”
“You don’t have food at your house?” Suguru teases.
“I’m bored of my home’s room service,” Satoru replies.
Suguru shakes his head, patting Satoru’s shoulder, “Let’s go,”
“The food is fab, Dadi, it’s fab!” Satoru says, quickly gulping down a spoonful of the rajma and rice.
“You should come more often then, son,” Dadi says, a cheerful smile on her old face. She looks amazing for her age - most of her hair is still black and her eyes hold a youthful charm with the wisdom that comes as one ages.
“I had to invite myself, even today,” Satoru chuckles. “Do you know - your grandson isn’t normal. Did he fall as a baby?” Dadi laughs at that, but Suguru’s Chachi makes a sour face. 
“Aye, shut up and eat your food,” Suguru says in his deadpan voice.
“Suguru, that is not the way to speak to guests,” His Chachi chides. She turns to Satoru, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Satoru, son - Can I call you son?” Satoru nods with a spoonful in his mouth. “You look much more charming and handsome in real life than you look in those Page 3 photos,”
Suguru and Dadi share a glance, stifling their laughter at Chachi’s comment. “Save some butter for the chapatis, Geeta.” Dadi scorns.
“Butter is expensive, Mother,” Chachi sneers. “We only have words to work with in this house,”
“We’re shareholders in your dad’s company, Satoru,” His Chacha says, trying to dissolve the tension. “Suguru, you must take some tips of the stock market from him and share it with me,” he chuckles. “Let us benefit from your friendship,”
“I’ll make use of his friendship,” Suguru says with a smile, holding Satoru’s gaze. It is a smile shared between friends, meaning unknown to others. “I’ll use him to my benefit so much that I’ll leave him behind,”
“Of course, you should buy the Taj Mahal,” Chachi snaps, her voice ringing in everyone’s ears. “Dreams don’t need any money,”
“Dreams are for duffers like me,” Satoru suddenly says, unable to stand the way Suguru’s Chachi speaks to him. “Suguru is a blue-chip investment. He will make you guys millionaires. You’ll see,”
Suguru’s dark eyes are filled with such adoration and respect for Satoru - for he has never had a friend believe in him this much. His support meant the world to Suguru, and he thinks that maybe letting people get close to him isn’t too bad.
He walks Satoru to the door, calling after him before he manages to get to his blue Ferrari. “What you said in front of Chachi, it felt nice,” Suguru says in a small voice, hands shoved in his jeans pocket and eyes on the grass. “Felt like my own person was saying it,” When he looks up to meet Satoru’s blue eyes, he adds in a teasing voice, “I didn’t know Mr Gojo’s useless son had this talent,”
“Yeah roast and compliment me in the same sentence,” Satoru shakes his head with a smirk. “Is that how you say thanks?”
“Okay, I’ll say it,” Suguru inhales a deep breath. “Thank you,”
“Thanks,” Satoru says, nodding as he studies Suguru closely. “Why do you always hide your emotions?”
“Why are you talking like a woman?” Suguru tries to dodge.
“I’m talking about my heart and feelings,” Satoru admits with a sigh. “There’s no one back home who will listen to me, and I don’t think [name] really gets me. So I thought I’ll try to speak to you,”
“I too lack practice in that matter,” Suguru confesses. “Those who listened to me are gone now, and Dadi has hearing aids.”
The two friends chuckle, and Satoru says, “So basically we are in the same situation,” he puts his hands on Suguru’s elbows, adding, “Whatever happens, we will always share it with each other.”
Being a tease is Suguru’s defence mechanism, so he says, “Are you going to kiss me right now?”
“I won’t even hug you,” Satoru punches his shoulder. “Okay, I’ll see you.”
“Suguru!” His Chacha’s voice comes from inside the house. “Call an ambulance - Mom - I don’t know, just call an ambulance, quick!”
Satoru follows them to the hospital, and Dadi is being taken to the critical care unit - the doctor says she had a cardiac arrest. Suguru is following them, worry written all over his pretty face when Chachi suddenly stops him, asking him where he thinks he’s going.
“Dadi-”
“We will look after your Dadi,” Chachi sternly says. “You bring bad luck wherever you go,”
Suguru doesn’t fight back, but the words cut deeper than any superficial wound ever could. As soon as his Chachi turns around, Suguru nearly runs out of the hospital, Satoru hot on his heels, calling after him. He tries to console him, but Suguru only pushes him off.
“Suguru,” Satoru says, hugging him despite his protests. He returns the hug after a moment, then pulls away quickly feeling the lump in his throat threaten to explode. “Are you okay or do you need another hug?”
Suguru smiles with tears in his eyes, not letting them fall. “I’m okay,”
The next morning, you’re there with flowers in your hands, ready to see Suguru. You wave at him with a small, reassuring smile and a frangipani bouquet in your hands - he’s holding your gaze, and to your surprise, he returns your smile and waves back.
“Suguru, I know you’re mad at me,” You say once you’re close to him. “You don’t even look at me lately, I don’t know what I did wrong but - ”
“I’m not in the mood to listen to your sad rants,” He says, voice breaking. “Dadi is unwell,”
“I know,” You say, exasperated. “That’s why I’m here Suguru.” His eyes hold so much grief and pain in them, and you want to hug him, let him cry on your shoulder and tell him that you’re going to be there for him no matter what - but you refrain. “Are you okay?” you softly ask.
“I’m okay,” Suguru nods, then turns to you, examining your outfit - it’s a short green dress with a low neckline  and a pullover over it, with knee high boots. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?” You ask. He eyes your clothes, and you begin to explain, “I know, I know - I don’t have any clothes suitable to come visit the hospital. I am going to go shopping today though.” He is extremely confused and you add, “I want to come here daily, Suguru.”
Suguru’s smile - so full of gratitude and his usually stoic eyes full of tears - welcome you and you take that as a step forward. You don’t know why you’re so giddy at him letting you come visit. You never bothered making friends with Satoru’s old friends before coming to Saint Teresa, but right now he’s the farthest thought in your heart when you look at the man in front of you; so vulnerable and needing support, but without the voice to ask for it.
“Happy birth-” You accidentally say while handing him the flowers, then turn away quickly, embarrassing yourself. Why you turn so stupid around him, you have no idea. He makes you nervous, you want to impress him, want him to think that you’re both pretty and smart, that you’re worthy of - what, you don’t know. You fear the answer, so you don’t dwell on it.
(Ishq Waala Love)
You turn around to look up at him, playing your embarrassment off with a confident smile on your face, and Suguru teases a smile at you, putting the frangipani to his chest. 
Walking away, you’re suddenly intercepted by Satoru - he takes you by surprise - wrapping his arms around you with a cheerful greeting of “Hey, baby,” and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. You had completely forgotten about him while you were with Suguru - but the pretty man with his black bangs doesn’t leave your mind while you’re in Satoru’s arms, his white hair tickling your forehead. You push him back a little, trying to put some distance between the two of you as your eyes flit back to Suguru - he’s already looking at you, back to his grieving self.
The next day, you’re back dressed in a yellow and orange suit, strutting to Suguru and Satoru sitting on the bench outside. Twirling the ends of your dupatta between your fingers, you deliberately make a show of ignoring Satoru, batting your eyes at Suguru, saying, “I want to meet Dadi,”
“No,” Suguru says, his voice soft, matching his violet gaze.
“Why?” You ask, brows knitted. “Am I not dressed correctly?”
“Yeah,” Satoru says, his voice is soft but has an edge of laughter. “Let’s go to the mandir?” You narrow your eyes at the laughing duo and stomp away. Satoru follows after you when Suguru tells him to, eyes crinkles with laughter.
Later, you sit beside Suguru when he is with Dadi, who is passed out on the white bed, connected to many machines. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, so close but so far away, too many things clouding your hearts and minds.
You’re sitting between Suguru and Satoru, the three of you drinking coffee and making jokes, when you’ve subconsciously leaned against Suguru, your head on his shoulder, looking up at his pretty smile with a toothy grin of your own. You hold his arm for a moment before coming to your senses and putting a little distance between the two of you. Satoru puts his arm across your shoulder and pulls you close, but his embrace doesn’t bring the familiar warmth. You push him away, annoyed at his lame joke and take the empty cups from both the men, throwing them in the bin.
It's the final time for Dadi, time for everyone to say their goodbyes. Suguru sits outside her room, his tall frame sulking and alone, bangs half trying to hide the pain and sorrow in his eyes. Your heart cries for him, wanting to embrace him, to show him that you will be there for him no matter what, that you care for him and you won’t hurt him.
Suddenly, Satoru is in front of you, caressing your cheek with his gentle touch, fingers roughed up from his guitar, asking if you want to go get coffee with him. It’s like you are suddenly doused in cold water, pushed out of your trance, and you blink rapidly to get a grip on reality before telling Satoru that you aren’t in the mood for coffee. He squeezes your hand with a smile before leaving you.
The sight of Suguru pressing his hands to his eyes has you right back in that trance, chest rising and falling rapidly as you feel his pain. You sit beside him, trying to give him a smile of confidence, but your eyes betray your worry. He returns your smile with a half smile of his own, but his pretty eyes swam with tears, head lowered, bangs hiding his face. You put your hands on his interlaced ones resting on his lap, rubbing small circles on the back of his hand with your thumb. You cannot stand seeing him in such pain, ready to do anything to make him go back to the guy you had met in Thailand, cocky confidence rubbing off on you. You don’t say anything, holding his teary gaze. He gives you another half smile at your comforting touch, and your eyes soften - you have the sudden inexplicable urge to hold him, let him melt into your embrace and cry his eyes out into your chest as you stand between him and this cruel world, caressing his back and kissing the top of his head. His smile falls, and the intensity of his pretty eyes has you rethinking everything, chest rising and falling rapidly as he lets your smaller hand fall between his two large hands, squeezing it.
When Dadi wakes up for a bit, Suguru takes you to see her, and you greet her softly then excuse yourself, giving them some space. You watch from outside the room as he speaks to Dadi, his back to her, shaking from holding back his cries. Dadi says something and he turns to her, holding her hand and breaking down crying, lying beside her as she weakly comforts her sobbing grandson. You’ve started crying with him, wiping your tears only to have them fall out immediately after.
The only good thing to come out of it was the fact that Suguru was with his Dadi when she passed peacefully in her sleep, surrounded by her family.
Suguru had become withdrawn after Dadi, not saying anything, keeping to himself. He barely even spoke to Satoru, and the others didn’t even see him outside of mandatory classes. Even in the classes, the ever active and teacher’s favourite Suguru had stopped answering, zoned out in most classes he attended.
Suguru is in his dorm, putting away his dirty laundry when you walk in the open door, hands held together in front of you. “Satoru’s dorm is a little further ahead,” He says, barely even looking at you.
“I’m here to see you,” You say, voice shaking.
He stills for a moment, his expression bitter. “To give me your condolences?” He forces a smile. “Thank you,”
“Satoru was saying that you don’t want to see anyone,” You start, inhaling a deep breath to keep your voice steady. You step closer to him and his desk as he grabs a book without any particular reason. “Staying alone like this-”
“I have to make a habit of staying alone,” He snaps, voice breaking at the end. It breaks your heart, tears welling in your eyes at his throaty voice. “Everyone who was close to me is gone.” He composed himself a little, adding, “You should stay away, or you’ll die too.”
“You need a friend-” you softly say, your body pulsing with your frantic heart.
“We can’t be friends!” He suddenly raises his voice, and you have to blink back the tears of frustration. You don’t know why his words cut so deeply, you’ve never cared this much about other people - not like you care about Suguru. “You want to be friends with me?” He looks at you for a moment, inhaling a composing breath. “Thank you,” he says in a small voice.
You’re staring at him by standing by his desk, back to you trying not to think about why it was affecting you so much, finding any other thing to make him talk. His pretty hair is messy and unkempt, and you want to take care of him, treat him to all the good things in life. That is when you spot your jhumki - sitting right on his desk at the edge of a mug. You remember that jhumki, the one you had been struggling to put on back in Thailand, and the way that Suguru had touched your hair to hide the missing earring. You remember his touch, his gaze, and how he had agreed to help you save your relationship.
You grab it from his desk, feeling a grin curve your lips. “Please leave,” Suguru says, seeing you around his desk. “I told you I don’t want to see anyone,”
“But Sugu, this jhumki won’t look good on you,” You teasingly say, maintaining an air of innocent confusion. “Not without it’s complete pair,”
Suguru has a pretty smile on his face, one that you are delighted to be the reason for. You purse your lips, looking at his pretty face and messy hair, taking little steps closer to him and finally hugging him like you’ve wished you could for a long time. Much to your delight, he hugs you back, head resting on your shoulder sniffling to hold himself back from crying.
Suguru is the one to pull back from the hug, pushing out the hair that has fallen to your face as you longingly look up at him, his gentle touch making you lose your mind. His large hands fall to your neck, thumb behind your ear as your eyes flit down to his pretty, worried lips then back to his eyes, the delicate touch of his thumb tickling you in just the right way. Heavy breaths fill the little space between you two, leaning closer with your eyes closed until your lips brush against his.
Your hands on his back pull him closer, and one of his hands goes behind your head while the other goes down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as your lips move against each other. The familiarity of his touch has your mind short circuiting - his kiss brings a calm security instead of the anxious butterflies, the movement of your lips and tongues filled with such desperate longing - a longing for affection and love rather than lust, the gentle kiss of a lover, worshipping, all consuming and caring. You’ve never been kissed like this before, like you are a prayer, like he is afraid that you’ll disappear as soon as he opens his eyes. It was wrong what you were doing, but then why did it feel so good? So right?
When he pulls back, you want him to kiss you more - you can see it in the sad gleam of his eyes that he doesn’t want to let you go either. His pupils dilated and brows relaxed, it’s a rare sight, and it’s a sight that you’ll never forget.
There’s a shuffling sound behind you - heads turn to the room's door only to find a distraught Satoru - hands fall to your side at the sight of Satoru’s big blue eyes filled with tears, you chase after him as he storms away without a word and you begin to chase after him, calling out his name.
“Satoru, I’m sorry! Listen to me!” You plead.
“Just leave me alone,” He says, throwing his bag. Satoru is out by the common area and there’s a swarm of students surrounding you three at the noise. 
“Satoru, please!” You plead, reaching out to him with your hands raised.
“Just leave me alone and don’t touch me,” He yells. Kicking down a random stack of chairs. 
“Just listen to me, please!” You plead, your voice breaking. You manage to grab his shoulders, but he is quick to push you off, face red and eyes glowering with anger. “Just leave me alone, I said!” He yells, louder this time. Suguru is quick to intervene, only to be pushed away by Satoru. It’s turning into a brawl and you hate it, you hate it so much. You hate your stupid heart, you hate yourself for not listening to Suguru and staying away from him like he asked you too. Your heart aches seeing the sheer heartbreak on Satoru’s face, his usually bright, humorous eyes filled with rage and betrayal and you despise that you’re the cause of it.
“You keep your mouth shut!” Satoru yells, somehow sounding even angrier at Suguru. “You have no class, no civility! I should never have talked to poor people like yourself. I am - was - your best friend, and you’re there kissing my girlfriend?! You are no one’s person!” He is pushing Suguru harder with each word, and Suguru accepts it, not even trying to fight back. He too has tears pooling in his eyes, messy hair falling to his face. “This is why you have no one to call your home.” Satoru’s welled eyes have turned red with rage, and with each shove his anger only seems to grow. “Everyone is dead! You mom, dad, and now Dadi-”
That is what snaps Suguru, the mention of Dadi and he punches Satoru with such force that his best friend nearly falls down. Suguru picks him up, only to punch him in the face again. “If you say anything regarding my mom and dad, I will break your face,” He snaps, voice colder than ice. “You aren’t even your mom-dad’s person, how can you even be my best friend? All this talk about class and status, what do you do? All you do is use your dad’s influence and money.”
“Dad’s money is all that you’re after right?” Satoru doubles down in his vicious words. “That’s why you befriended me, right? You wanted to have a life like me - and now you’re also stealing my girlfriend?!”
“What’s this girlfriend-boyfriend thing, huh?” Suguru doubles down as well, high from the anger coursing through his veins. “She never loved you, and you-? You’ve been out there everywhere putting your face on every other girl you see. You’re calling this a relationship? You have no right to call her your girlfriend!”
“You’re no one to tell me of my rights,” Satoru yells, holding Suguru’s t-shirt’s collar, ready to throw another punch. “She is mine, mine only!”
“Why don’t you ask her whose she is?” Suguru challenges. “She loves me, and I love her!”
They’ve started throwing punches everywhere, the whole school watching their brawl unfold. Satoru hits, Suguru punches, it’s a mess - a mess that you cannot stand, for reasons you aren’t ready to accept yourself. You walk up to them, tears glistening in your eyes and yell at them to stop. They do, but the air is still thick with tension as you speak, “What do you even know about me? About my feelings?” You speak to the both of them, voice breaking. “Nothing! And the sad part is, you aren’t even willing to listen! You just want to win me - I am not a part of any competition. I am not a prize. I am done with this whole thing.” 
Suguru looks upset, ashamed of himself, but Satoru only looks angry - and you don’t know what pains you more. You rush away, before anyone in the gathering crowd as a chance to stop you and hide in your dorm.
Satoru’s anger doesn’t subside even as he reaches home. Even as his mother shows concern for the bruises on his face, he only pushes her off, not in the mood to see anyone. If his mood wasn’t already so bad, it got worse as his father came up to stop him, demanding that he treat his mother with respect.
���Look at yourself!” Isamu Gojo scolds with a yell. “You look like a street thug! Who did you even fight? Answer me.”
“I don’t want to answer anyone,” Satoru says, meeting his dads angry gaze.
“You have to, you’re living under my roof,” Isamu snaps. “I’ve tolerated your misdemeanour for so long. You can’t behave properly at home, at least mind your family’s image outside of the house.”
“You’ve not made any good image, Dad,” Satoru finally says, swallowing the angry lump in his throat. “The only thing you’ve made is money.”
“That’s the money funding your life, you know?!” Isamu yells, eyes wide in anger. “You only know two things - having fun and making a fool out of me,”
“What are you ashamed of, hm?” Satoru asks, lips wobbling as he speaks. “That I don’t want to be an industrialist? That I want to be a musician?”
“Yes! I’m ashamed that my son has such middle-class dreams!” Isamu yells back.
“Dreams don’t have any class,” Satoru says, blinking away his tears. “But only a dad would get that, not a twisted man.” Isamu slaps him, and Satoru’s voice finally breaks as he says, “I have no wish to live in your house, and I don’t want to be your son,”
“You’ve lost the privilege of being my son,” Isamu says, an angry frown on his face.
“When was I ever your son?” Satoru asks, then turns around to leave. His mother tries to stop him, but he pushes her off once again, vowing to himself to never turn back, to never step foot in any of his father’s properties again and to never take a penny from this man.
He is filled with a new determination to win the Student of the Year trophy - to prove everyone and himself that he wasn’t useless, that he was more than Mr. Gojo’s money made him. His goal had now shifted from winning the trophy to defeating everyone else - particularly Suguru.
The second last stage of the competition - the prom where everyone needs to bring a date - is close and everyone’s preparations are in full swing. The campus gym is occupied and people are busy finding dates and practising their steps, for no one ever wants to lose after coming this close. 
Satoru has become a loner, avoiding even Haibara during lunch hour. Suguru too is back to his quiet self, speaking only when he deems it to be necessary. You… Well, you’ve had the worst burnt of their fight somehow - utterly messed up with your own emotions - your mind says one thing but your heart craves another, you’re avoiding everyone like they are the plague. 
Shoko finds you sitting all alone, eyes distant. “Hey, what’s up?” She asks, sitting beside you. “Who are you going to prom with? Satoru or Suguru?”
“It’s not funny, Shoko,” you say with a frown. “The whole school is gossiping about me now,”
“Ignore the gossip,” Shoko says, voice serious. “Tell me about your feelings,”
“I don’t even want to think about them!” You’re exasperated, torn by your own moralities and desires.
“You love Suguru,” Shoko sternly says, trying to talk sense into you. 
“Shoko, Satoru and I-”
“What about it?” She stops you. “There was nothing there - you were angry and miserable for most of the time. It was not a match made in heaven, rather a match made in your elite circles.” Her concern is genuine. “I know you’re confused right now, and you’re allowed to be confused. You should take some time. Your heart will answer for you.”
“There’s this competition right in the middle of everything,” You sigh.
“Then leave it,” Shoko suddenly says, an idea forming in her pretty head. You turn your head to her, eyes wide. “This stupid competition is not more important than your feelings, right?”
You discreetly scrutinise her fidgety behaviour and say, “You’re right, I won’t take a part in this competition. Disqualifying isn’t that bad,” you turn to her just as she suppresses her smile. “What do you think?”
“I’d have done the same thing, if I were you.” Shoko says, squeezing your shoulder in support.
The next evening, Shoko jogs up to Haibara after her gym session, saying, “Haibara, I’ve decided that I will be your date to prom this year,”
“You aren’t going to be my date,” He says, voice sassy. “You’re late.” He sounds thrilled saying your name, “She has already asked me to be her date.”
Shoko storms into your shared room and sees you checking yourself out in the mirror, seeing which dress looks pretty on you. You barely pay any attention to her as she angrily stomps her feet.
“Are you seriously going to prom with Haibara?” She practically spits out.
“Yeah, I am,” You say, feigning innocence. “I suddenly thought, why should I even let Satoru or Suguru influence my life?”
“And why did you think of that so suddenly?” She asks, voice bitter.
“Shouldn’t you be happy?” You say, frowning a little. “I don’t get this reaction,”
“What do you mean?” Shoko says, her breaths suddenly heavy with the way you’ve caught her little scheme.
“You know exactly what I mean, Shoko,” You say. “But I am not giving up on prom just to reduce your competition,” You look her up and down once, adding, “Because, lets face it, you and dance is like me and poor,”
Shoko rapidly blinks, then says, “You’re so disgusting,” she turns to leave. “I don’t even want to talk to you,”
You pat her shoulder, and bat your eyelashes, “I’d have done the same thing, if I were you.” echoing her words back to her.
Shoko leaves your room, walking to put as much distance as she can between the two of you. In the basketball court, she sees Suguru, alone and begins rambling about your confused state under her breath, pretending that she didn’t see him.
“Shoko, are you okay?” He stops her and asks once she is close to him.
“No, I’m not okay. I’ve just fought with her.” Shoko says, not hiding her anger. “She is such a drama queen I’m so tired of her!”
“Why what happened?” He asks, thin brows creased with concern.
“She says she’s confused between you and Satoru,” She says, and Suguru instantly turns to the ball in his hands, avoiding her angry brown eyes. “But she is going to prom with Haibara, so Satoru gets jealous. Then there’s no confusion, right?”
“Right,” Suguru hesitates, turning to the basket instead, his bangs hiding his heartbreak.
“Anyways, I don’t want to be in the middle of all of this,” She says, brown eyes gleaming with excitement, seeing the effect of her words on Suguru. “I’ll speak to you later, okay?” She walks away, praying that her little scheme works.
“Shoko,” He calls after her, and her heart does a little dance at her plan working out. “Who are you going to prom with?”
“No one,” She says in a small voice, her lips pulled down in a frown. 
“Haibara, please help me find a date to prom,” Nanami asks, sitting on the edge of his friend’s bed. “There’s no one willing to go with me,”
“I love you Nanami,” Haibara says, sitting up with his hand on the blond’s shoulder. “But I cannot go to prom with you,”
“I don’t want to go to prom with you, I want you to help me find a date to the prom, man,” Nanami says.
“Nanami, leave,” Satoru says, storming into Haibara’s room. Nanami grumbles under his breath but leaves the two alone. “Haibara, you’re taking her to prom?! Who do you even think you are?”
“I’m Haibara,” He says, frowning.
“Did a rabid dog bite you or something?” the white haired man shakes his head, irked. “Are you crazy? You go, you go and tell her that you can’t be her date to prom.”
“Hey! Stop it,” Haibara yells. “I don’t need your permission to do things in my life. I’m not your servant.”
Satoru chuckles, shaking his head. It’s demeaning. “What about all that time you spent on my credit card, hm?”
Something breaks in the brunet’s heart at the mention, so he says, “But i’ve also given you full service for that time,” He has a rare, angry frown on his face. “Haibara, park the car, Haibara, bring me a drink. Haibara, can you take her to the mall for me, please? Can you bring her an apology card? Now Haibara is taking her to prom as his date, arm in arm and you can’t do anything about it.”
“You too are showing your class,” Satoru says through gritted teeth.
“You are no one to talk about class, Satoru.” Haibara taunts. “The only thing you have is daddy’s money, and now you don’t even have that,” 
“Satoru, don’t be so upset now,” Tanya says, running her hands over his chest by the swimming pool. She undoes her robe, pressing herself against his chest, saying, “If you want… I could be your date,”
(the disco song)
The much anticipated prom night and dance competition is now here - eliminating four out of the twelve competitors - only 8 finalists and one winner of the trophy. Suguru-Shoko, Satoru-Tanya, Haibara-You, Nanami-Ichiji and the rest of the participants stand in the front, arm in arm with their dates in front of the judges with Dean Yaga introducing you to the two women. The tension in the air is thick and palpable, with everyone waiting to see who will snap first under the pressure. It was dance or disqualification, and everyone wanted to eliminate their competition.
Suguru and Shoko sneak a glance at you - Shoko with a proud smile and Suguru with a distant longing, and you feel yourself tearing up seeing your friend in his arms, by his side. You turn your head, happening to meet Satoru’s gaze. He has Tanya on his arm - the sight of it making your blood boil. You feel indifference, the discontent in your heart at the sight of Shoko and Suguru evaporating with the anger. You are there to win. 
The music plays and the competitors start with their opening steps. You’re half jealous of the way Suguru and Shoko move together so gracefully, painfully reminded of that time in Thailand that you had danced with him. Satoru and Tanya have bolder dance moves, the bitter memories of the past year feeding into your determination to move to the next round.
You dance with Haibara, it’s not as natural as it had been with Suguru, but you will have to do it. You’re both there to prove a point.
The solo dancing has you moving more gracefully, and you hope that the judges give you some extra points for the performance you put up. Suguru and Satoru perform their own well practised sequence with the music - you don’t feel much looking at them now, without their dates.
The competitors dance with the beats of the music, Suguru twirling a rarely graceful Shoko in his arms and Satoru spinning with Tanya in his arms. Haibara has you in his arms in a dance similar to waltz, and you put on your best smile for the judges. For a moment, in your head, you are with Suguru - with him easily manoeuvring you around, your steps perfectly in sync and your smile turns more genuine.
The music shifts and your partners change, you land into Satoru’s arms, looking right into his mellowed blue eyes so full of repentance and regret. You cannot stand to look at him, all the nights that you’ve stayed up crying at his antics flooding your memories as you turn away from him. The familiarity of his chest against your back and his breaths on your neck as you cringing. You thank the heavens as the music shifts again - Satoru spins you around and stomps away from you in anger, the memory of you kissing his best friend too fresh a wound.
The heavens tease you with kindness, turning cruel as you end up in Suguru’s arms, unable to look away from his pretty purple eyes, his hair smooth against your hand on his chest. It’s too much - the memory of his gentle touch, his easy smile, the warmth of his lips against yours, the sight of your best friend with him. Oh you want to embrace him so bad it makes you want to cry. This competition is a cruel joke - destroying your relationships and playing with your delicate heart like some child’s toy. You cannot bring yourself to look away from his eyes, so soft and gentle as he steadily holds your gaze with moist eyes even as you step back and move away from him, hands moving from his chest to your sides and you leave the stage, barely holding back your tears.
Satoru has been eyeing you, his heart breaking into a million pieces as a cold acceptance replaces the warmth of his affections for you. He now knows - it was too obvious, you never looked at him like you looked at Suguru just then. The acceptance is what he needs as he resumes with this solo dance, determined to snatch that trophy away from Suguru.
Suguru blinks away the tears the sight of yours brought, and he has to physically restrain himself from running after you. You need space, he thinks, before remembering the trophy that had started all of this in the first place, restarting his solo dance as he loses sight of you, the determination to win that trophy dulling.
Satoru, Shoko, Suguru and Haibara are four of the eight from the now-split gang that make into the finalists, ready for the final stage of the competition - the triathlon which begins with swimming, then cycling and ends with track.
Suguru sees Dean Yaga with Mr. Gojo one afternoon, only greeting Yaga with a good afternoon.
“Hi Suguru,” Mr Gojo shakes his hand with a bright smile. “How are you?”
Yaga beats Suguru to it, beaming with pride, “By the way, Suguru and Rohan are both in the top 8. It’s gonna be a tough battle, Isamu, not easy.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Isamu says, shaking his head.
“Well, you will say that,” Yaga says with a smile. “Satoru is your son, after all.”
“That’s why I’m saying this,” There’s something in Isamu’s voice that ticks Suguru off in the wrong way. “Suguru will win, my money is on you.” Isamu pats his shoulder, then says. “Good luck,”
The whole time, the top 8 finalists spend their time training for the triathlon - timing their swimming, working out their legs and spending time on the cycle. It's an intense couple of days, with much tension but no drama.
On the day of the triathlon, you sit in the bleachers by the swimming pool, watching your friends stretch and get ready before the swimming starts. Satoru’s eyes are determined and challenging Suguru, whose face hides his internal conflicts. Somehow, his eyes find yours in the buzzing crowd, and you give him a small smile, which he returns before putting his goggles on and getting ready to dive.
It’s Shoko with her slim body and fast reflexes that finishes the swim first, and quickly gets out and puts on her shoes before running out to the cycles. Haibara is next, followed by Suguru ahead of Satoru by a fraction of a second. Once out of the surveillance area, the brunet is quick to catch up to Shoko and push her off track and into the grass, promptly disqualifying her.
Satoru, fueled by rage, powers up and puts everyone behind on the cycling path, with Suguru close behind him, his internal battle now in favour of winning the trophy. Satoru is the first one to enter the race track, followed by Suguru. There’s a distance of more than 10 metres between them when Suguru starts running. Satoru runs on red rage while Suguru has the skills of the track, easily catching up the distance. Ultimately, the battle for the trophy is between the two of them and no one else. 
The last few seconds are intense, Suguru has caught up on the distance, and the both run parallelly now, in the bleachers, Isamu Gojo is cheering for his son’s defeat, while his mother looks concerned. For a moment, Suguru has overtaken Satoru, everyone is sure of his victory, when Suguru slows down a bit and adrenaline pushes Satoru. The smile on Isamu’s face fades as the chances of his son winning increase. Suguru’s eyes close for a moment, and Satoru becomes the first one to push the ribbon, by a mere hundredth of a second. He’s unsure of his win, but the angry frown on Suguru’s pretty face has him accepting it.
The crowd breaks out in cheers, celebrating Satoru’s win.
Later in the evening, after everyone has changed into formals and put on the Saint Teresa blazers, they assemble in the hall, waiting for Dean Yaga to finally hand the trophy to Satoru Gojo. Nanami isn’t himself, having spent the entire week disappointed in himself and Yaga - for making this competition unfair and breaking apart his friend group.
“Boys and Girls, I’m delighted to call on the stage,” Dean Yaga’s awfully cheerful voice cuts through everyone’s ears. “The Student of the Year, Satoru Gojo!” Satoru smiles at his mother’s delight for his victory, and goes up to the stage as the crowd cheers for him. “Congratulations, many congratulations,” Yaga says as he hugs his student. “I’m so proud of you, my boy. All yours.”
“Thank you,” Satoru says, voice more serious than usual. “Each student of Saint Teresa wants to win the title of the Student of the Year. In 25 years, there have been many successful students who won this trophy,” he pauses for a moment. Satoru’s pale nose is unusually pink, as if he has spent his time crying. “I don’t want to insult anyone - but I cannot accept this trophy.” He explains, “I have my reasons, reasons that I have no wish to explain.”
The hall falls into a stunned, confused silence. You, Shoko, Haibara are all confused - he wanted to win that trophy so badly, then why was he suddenly refusing to accept it? What even happened? He walks down the stage, stopping in front of his father for a second, a smirk on his face and shaking his head at the sombre old man, then walks away.
Suddenly, Nanami loudly claps his hands in the crowd, drawing everyone’s attention and making Satoru stop in his tracks. He gets up from his place and continues clapping. “Well done, Satoru, well done!” he says, his appearance dishevelled. “Good for you! Good for you!” he turns to the crowd, “Hey! Why aren’t you all clapping now, when you should?” He takes the hand of a student and claps his hands together. “Clap your hands!”
“Nanami! Behave yourself,” Yaga scolds from above the stage. “Are you drunk? The school will not tolerate this behaviour!”
“School?” Nanami chuckles with irony. “You know what Dean, to hell with this school, and to hell with you!”
“Nanami!” Coach gets up from his place, angry at his behaviour. Suguru gets up and tries to take Nanami away, but the blond stops him.
“This Student of the Year trophy was your idea, right?” Nanami turns to Yaga, clicking his fingers. “Then you should get the award.” He pretends to pick up an award from Suguru’s empty chair. “Here is your award for the most stupid idea!”
“All because you didn’t win?” Yaga’s voice is condescending. “Look at yourself Nanami, what were the chances?”
“Yes, I lost.” Nanami admits. “But why did I lose?” he’s raising his hand, pointing his finger to Yaga. “Because of you and your stupid rules. Guys and girls will run together, a date is mandatory for the prom,” he comically dances in his drunk anger, saying in a sing-song voice, “dance to win the trophy,” he turns back to Yaga with a chuckle. “But who cares, who cares if this idiot can’t dance? And who cares that people like us,” his finger goes back and forth between himself and Yaga. “Who cares that people like us can find a partner? You should’ve known that,” his tone is accusatory and he’s beginning to cry.
Your heart cries in sympathy, while Satoru and Suguru inch closer to him, trying to get him to stop. “Let me speak, this stupid drama has been going on for 25 years now,” Nanami challenges. “Why? Because Dean Masamichi Yaga has no entertainment in his own life. He’s alone, and he wants to break all our friendships too. You know what, you are a jealous, lonely and very unhappy man!”
Yaga’s face has reddened and his eyes welled up behind his signature glasses. He’s stunned into silence, but Nanami continues, “Congratulations, sir! Your final episode is a complete hit! You ended two years of friendships within two weeks.” His voice only gets louder. “We all hate each other!” He raises his hand in a military salute. “For that, I wanna salute you, Dean Masamichi Yaga!”
He drops the navy Saint Teresa blazer at the Dean’s feet and stomps away, pushing Satoru and Suguru on his way out.
Ten years later
Nanami’s phone rings in the middle of the night, who answers, grumpy. “Hello,” the voice on the other line says something. “There’s no Ichiji here… OH! Ichiji!” He wakes up as realisation hits him. “Hi! How are you? What? Okay, I’ll come to Dehradun as soon as I can. Yeah, no worries I’ll find them on instagram.”
Now in Dehradun, Nanami, Haibara, Shoko and Tanya recall their time back in Saint Teresa from a decade ago, when Satoru enters the hospital. He’s changed completely - a black blindfold instead of his round sunglasses make up his performer personna - the rockstar Satoru Gojo.  Although, he’s ditched his blindfold in favour of square glasses.
Tanya, just wrapping up her divorce with her fourth husband, is awfully delighted to see Satoru. He hugs Shoko, saying, “You’re looking like a girl now,” gesturing to her long brown hair.
Shoko shakes her head, saying, “I’m a doctor and a mother now. You’re a great person too now,”
“The consequence of leaving my father behind,” He jokes.
“I’m so proud of you,” He says. Satoru spots Haibara, and envelopes in a bear hug, the anger from a decade back forgotten. “Haibara, how are you doing?” He playfully punches Nanami on the shoulder. “How are you, man?”
“What did the doctors say?” He asks, enquiring about Yaga’s condition. Just then, their old coach comes in, complementing his intense, rockstar appearance. Satoru has piercings on his left ear now. He hugs Ichiji, now the new coach at Saint Teresa, walking with him to see the critically sick Yaga.
Suguru gets out of his white Mercedes sedan, dressed in a navy trench coat with a grey sweater vest underneath and a striped scarf warming his neck. His hair has grown out in the last 10 years, long straight hair falling down till his waist. Half of it is tied in an updo. He hasn’t changed as dramatically as Satoru, but he has grown a lot more confident and assertive.
He gets to the other side of the sedan, opening the door to offer you his hand, never wanting to let you open any doors since the two of you got together. You’ve been married for three years now, and you’re the happiest when with him. The only wish you have is that you could turn back time and have things go a little differently than they have, maybe everything would be even better, then.
Getting off the elevator, the first person you see is Shoko, who smiles sweetly at the two of you. Suguru gives her a side hug, greeting her kindly. He then leaves the two of you, knowing there are things left unresolved.
“Hey, Haibara,” Suguru says, deliberately not greeting Satoru right beside him. The long haired man with delicate features instead goes to greet Nanami and Tanya, seeing them after a long time.
“It's been a long time,” Shoko softly says, brown eyes apologising more sincerely than any words ever could.
“Yeah,” You raise your arms, hugging her. Pulling back, you shake your head with a smile. “I hoped you might call after having your baby… Such ego,”
“It wasn’t ego, it was shame,” Shoko admits. 
“It’s all in the past now, forget it,” You say.
“What was even the point of doing all that?” She repents. “I’m still a normal person,”
“Let’s leave all of that,” You say, shaking your head. “Show me the pictures of your baby now,” Shoko smiles brightly at you and shows you the pictures of her little baby girl. “What’s Tanya up to, these days?” you quietly ask her.
“Looking for a new husband,” She whispers to you. “I’d advice to keep Suguru away from her,”
“I trust him,” You say, dismissing her concerns and she gives you a knowing smile. “I'll have to keep him away from someone else though,” you turn to Satoru.
“Hmm,” Shoko still has that teasing smile. “It’s a hospital, wrecking it won’t leave a good impression,”
“Exactly,” you say. “I’ll be right back,”
You walk up to Satoru and Haibara, greeting them both. Haibara leaves quickly, giving the two of you some space. You haven't spoken to Satoru since that day when everything went wrong. But you hug him for a short moment. He had been an important person in your life, afterall.
“You didn’t even invite me to your wedding,” Satoru playfully complains. “I would’ve been there from the bride’s side. I have that much right, don’t I?”
“Shut up, Satoru,” you tease him back. “What’s with that intense look?” you ask, gesturing to his all black appearance and piercings.
“A musician’s appearance must reflect his pain,” He explains. “Otherwise the music doesn’t sell, you know?”
“I’ve listened to your music, you know.” You admit. “Your latest album is amazing,”
“Does he let you listen to my music?” He asks, nodding to Suguru.
“He secretly listens to it himself,” You chuckle. “But he won’t admit that. Come meet Sugu now, come on.”
“Na-ahn,” Satoru shakes his head. “You married him and are showing your authority over me. That's not how it works,”
Suguru’s outside, texting on his phone when you find him. “It’s been ten years now, Sugu,” you try to reason with him. He pockets his phone with a sigh at your words. “What’s to lose by saying a little hello?”
“He shrieks in his songs, he can come say hello too,” Suguru counters with his soft voice. 
“You’re an investment banker Sugu, not a child,” You try to convince him, placing your hand on his arm.
“And you’re my wife, darling,” He says, his eyes kind as he looks down at you. “Not your ex boyfriend’s lawyer.”
“Ex boyfriend’s lawyer, where did that come from?” You say, brows creased and nose scrunched up.
“I saw you hug him,” He counters, making you sigh. “Feeling affectionate?”
“That’s disgusting Sugu, come on,” you drawl.
“What else were you expecting?” Satoru’s taunting voice suddenly interrupts you. “He has billions in his bank but the class of a penny,”
“What did you do with your high class, huh?” Suguru snaps back, but his voice is still a model of serene calm. “You’re playing that guitar like a courtesan in front of an audience,”
“But I give great hugs,” Satoru says, turning to you with a raised brow. “Right?”
That breaks Suguru’s calm facade. He menacingly steps between you and Satoru asserting, “Bastard, mind your mouth. You’re speaking to my wife.”
“She was my girlfriend that day when you kissed her,” Satoru angrily snaps, pushing him back. Suguru punches his face, the martial arts expertise not left too behind with his stock market capabilities. Their fist-fight out in the hospital’s garden has your friends gathering, with Nanami and Haibara rushing to pull them apart at your request, only for Shoko to stop them.
“Don’t,” She says. “It’s an anger of ten years, let them get it out.”
A moment later, Suguru has Satoru's face bruised and pinned to the ground, yelling right in his face, “Why are you so angry, Satoru? It’s not just because of my darling wife,” Satoru’s red face is an angry grimace, wincing in pain. “You didn’t even love her. Then why this anger?!”
Satoru pushes Suguru off himself, standing up and pointing his finger to him accusatory. “You deliberately let yourself lose that day!” He yells, white hair flying in all directions. His mind flashes back to the triathlon from ten years ago. “Why did you do that?” He pushes Suguru, emphasising his point. “Why?!”
“Because your father was a nasty, twisted man!” Suguru answers with a yell. “He was rejoicing seeing you lose, he was wishing me luck to defeat you.” Suguru confesses, retying his messed up hair. “I wanted to be like your father, but even I couldn’t be this twisted. I thought,” Satoru’s blue eyes have lost all that electric rage, leaving behind teared up eyes on realisation. “In that moment, I realised that I could defeat the most powerful man of the country by making you win,” He inhales a deep breath before continuing. “My dad was dead, Satoru, but yours wasn’t a dad either.”
“I dealt with my dad when I left him and his name,” Satoru says, his shove gentle now. “I didn’t need your nobility,”
Suguru shakes his hand, chuckling at his ironic statement. “Nobility, wow!” He incredulously says. “What about that drama you pulled off on the stage? Huh? What the hell was that?” Suguru’s brow is creased and he’s poking at Satoru’s chest, speaking through gritted teeth. “If you knew everything that day, why didn’t you say anything in front of everyone? In front of you dad?” He answers his question himself, “Because you wanted to show to your father that you actually won,”
Satoru throws a punch at that, and Suguru returns a harder one, busting his lip. “Don’t hit my face so hard!” Satoru complains, holding his large hand against his busted lip. 
“Bloody loser,” Suguru mumbles under his breath, wiping the blood on his knuckle and feeling his bruised cheekbone.
“Hey! Who are you calling a loser?” Satoru gets defensive. It’s a true comedy - how fast their fight boiled over and turned childish. “All last five of my albums have been platinum hits,”
“So what?” Suguru competes as well. “My banking business has a turnover of 500 million,”
“International music labels chase me!” Satoru claims. (it's the truth)
“Companies beg me for mergers,” Suguru claims (also the truth)
“When I perform, Wembley shakes,” Satoru yells.
“One snap of my fingers shakes the stock market,” Suguru claims.
“I’ve been with a hundred women-” Satoru says, forgetting himself in the heat of the moment.
“And I have my darling wife-” Suguru says, not hearing Satoru. “Wait what? A hundred, really?” He asks in his calm voice with his brows raised, eyeing him.
“Yeah, plus or minus ten,” Satoru has calmed down as well, but he is terribly embarrassed at his admission. 
“Plus or minus?” Suguru asks.
“Probably minus,” Satoru admits.
They both burst out laughing - it starts with a smile, going to a chuckle then a full blown laughter. “You haven’t changed a bit, you bastard.” Suguru decides.
Quieting down for a moment, they assess the damage, when Satoru slowly turns to his friend. “Are you about to kiss me right now?” Suguru teases.
“I won’t even hug you, motherfucker,” Satoru says as they hug.
Dean Yaga dies with people he cared about surrounding him, happy to see that Suguru and Satoru have rekindled their friendship. Their broken bond weighed heavy on his heart, and he passed peacefully on seeing his old students back together. Satoru and Suguru are back at Saint Teresa’s campus, this time as alumni - there to show students to follow their hearts and maintain their friendships instead of seeing them as competition.
A/N: it took me nearly two weeks to complete and the last 7k words i wrote in one sitting, my hands were numb but we finished it and i've proofread it once (please ignore any errors) special shoutout to my desi girlies here, we've all wanted to be shanaya at one point lmao. I hope ya'll enjoyed it because it was fun writing this hehe. Also the reason I have Satoru or Suguru first is because here in india we address each other by first names for the most part
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seravphs · 11 months
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ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — NANAMI x FEM READER
Gojo sets you up with your future husband in the middle of English class.
wc — 700
tags — Gojo’s annoying ass, stay at home husband Nanami, title from manga of the same name 
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“Honey, I’m home,” you call. 
Immediately, Nanami comes to the door clad in his pastel yellow apron with little ducks. It matches his hair and complements his pink dish gloves perfectly. 
“I’d hug you but I’m a little dirty at the moment,” he says. 
“Who cares?” You wrap your arms around him to his spluttered protests. 
When he falls suspiciously silent, you look up to see what’s wrong. You follow his soft gaze to the ring on your finger, your arms still looped around his neck. 
“You know I hate owing Gojo anything, but I really am grateful for this one,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek. 
It is thanks to Gojo that you got married, after all. 
In high school, Gojo Satoru was a menace who loves meddling in your love life. He treated you like a little sister, which meant he was also comfortable doing whatever he wanted to you without consequence. 
You should’ve known better than to trust him, but he piques your interest when he asks, “Hey, you know Nanami from our econ class?”
“I do not dream of labor Nanami?” You ask. 
“All jobs are shitty, this is just slightly less shitty Nanami?” Chimes in Yuki across the table.
“Even when I’m asleep the only thing I think about is money Nanami?” From your side, even Utahime is interested in the conversation, a rarer occasion than a eclipse. 
“That’s the one!” Gojo beckons you closer. Of course, you stay right where you are, because you don’t trust him. He crooks his fingers at you again, coaxing, “Come on, come on. Don’t you trust me?” 
“Absolutely not.” 
“Fine, have it your way,” he says, rolling his eyes. Then, at a volume completely unnecessary and loud enough for everyone within a five mile radius to hear, he all but yells, “You would like Nanami! I’m setting you two up.” 
You would slap him, but he’s faster, catching your arm like he anticipated the blow. He probably did. 
“Gojo, what the fuck?!” You hiss. 
“Shhh, I’m doing you a favor! My two most boring friends, one ambitious, one indolent - you two are a match made in heaven.” 
You squint at him. “Isn’t Nanami the top of our class? He works harder than anyone else, I don’t know what you’re saying.” 
“Okay, but it’s not because he wants to. He hates working, he just wants to live comfortably. You see where I’m going with this?” 
You really, really don’t. 
“God, do I have to spell everything out for you? I really am a blessing to you poor-“ 
“Gojo.” 
“Fine, whatever! Let’s do the math. You want to become a CEO or something, I wasn’t really paying attention when you told me about it. Nanami wants to be a live in housewife who’s only job is to cook, clean, and love his partner. One plus one equals two, he can be your housewife.” 
“I can be what now?” You refuse to turn around, like if you can’t see him, he’ll go away eventually.  He must’ve been summoned by Gojo’s annoyingly loud volume. 
Gojo has no such shame. “Perfect, I don’t even have to go looking for you! I’ll leave you two to it. Use protection or actually don’t, so you can give me godchildren!” 
He dodges your attempt at murder for the second time and skips off, humming to himself. You’re never speaking to him again, you resolve. Nanami’s presence looms at your back, stiff and uncomfortable. How do you break the ice? 
“You…don’t have to be a househusband,” you offer. That is not the way you wanted to start your introduction, but for some reason your mouth won’t stop moving no matter how much you beg yourself to shut up. “We can be double income, if you want, but I’m sure I can make enough for both of us.” 
You’re silently begging the ground to just swallow you up to escape your earthly torment when he laughs. It’s a pretty thing, not like bells or wind chimes as the books describe, but beautiful nonetheless. 
He smiles down on you as he says, “I’m okay being a househusband if you’ll have me.” 
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munsonsreputation · 1 month
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WATCH THAT SCENE!
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eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: [2.3k]
warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, mild cursing, overall fluff!!!
summary: the kids need help learning how to dance for their formal and you're their last resort, but they should've known not to count your suave boyfriend eddie out.
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The sun had begun setting in the small town, the burnt twinge of orange and yellow tumbling over the sky where clouds grew drabber and the bright blue following behind. The air was the perfect kind of crisp that blew smoothly against your legs and face, easing the warmth that had developed from the hours of stretches, flips, kicks, and jumps.
All of the others girl had left the parking lot, only leaving you behind, though Chrissy was kind enough to offer you a ride, but you knew Eddie was going to there any minute. And so you beamed when his van came turning into the school zone, the music slowly being turned down as he saw you standing outside the gym already approaching his car.
“How was practice, baby?” He hailed out towards the open passenger window, smiling widely.
You rolled your eyes playfully, opening the door to toss your things into the backseat before settling into the soft velvet cushion beside him. Eddie was already jutting his chin out towards you when you giggled, holding a hand on his cheek to stabilize yourself and pressing your lips together.
He tasted like mint and cigarettes. A combination that you’d never get sick of because despite how much you hated that he smoked those cancer sticks, he always chewed a piece of gum before ever trying to go in for a kiss with you.
“I can’t wait to shower.” You groaned, combing your fingers through your oily hair when he finally started driving away from the school.
Cheer practice was always muggy and gross. Getting tossed in the air time and time again, then proceeding to touch the sweaty mats that everyone practically laid on and touched made you feel icky. It was always routine for you to get into a shower after practice and scrub the living daylights out of your skin.
Eddie looked over at you, cursing under his breath a little at his forgetfulness.
“Shit! Sorry, babe, but Henderson called—he asked if we could swing my Joyce and Hops.”
You shrugged, shaking your head not bothered by the pit-stop since it was always nice to see the kids especially since you were so busy these days.
The only time you really got to see them was if Eddie had a campaign that ran late or on weekends when Eddie was in charge of dropping them off and picking them up.
“It’s fine, as long as I get a shower in the next few hours. Did he say why?”
He shook his head, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “He sounded panicky and annoyed. A lot of voices and music in the background, though.”
“Well, panicky and annoyed, isn’t unusual?” You quipped, and he cackled, switching lanes to take the route.
“We’ll find out in a little bit.”
The Byers-Hopper living room had now been infiltrated by all the younger teens, including the older ones: Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, and Steve. The older four had been called to by Dustin, begging them to come over and show them a few dance moves that they could use for the winter formal.
But bless Dustin Henderson’s heart, because while they might have had a few proms and formals as dance experience, none of them were “experts” at dancing — or at least none met his standards.
For god's sake, even Nancy and Jonathan, who were a couple since forever, looked like a pair of stiff bodies moving back and forth when they tried to demonstrate how to dance when a slow song came on.
And you would think that someone as charming as Steve would have some sort of groove when it came to dancing, but Jesus, no, he looked even more rigid and awkward.
Don’t even get them started on Robin, who bursted out in laughter when she tried to dance with Steve but failed within the first three seconds because she had accidentally stomped on his foot thinking she was leading.
It even came to the point where they confided in Hopper and Joyce who had arrived home from work to their living room furniture pushed against the walls to make room for a makeshift dance floor. A cassette played loudly through the radio and everyone seemed to be a jumbling mess.
Well, the mess became even bigger when Hopper and Joyce tried to show them a move or two, which just ended up with everyone laughing and burying their faces in their hands at the scene. El, Will, and Jonathan cringed more so than laughed, but now they knew their parents were probably the worst dancers than themselves at than alone was a core memory.
That’s when Dustin threw in the towel and decided to make a call to his dear friend Eddie. Eddie who was about to leave his trailer to pick you up from practice so you could get home and shower, then finish the movie you two fell asleep to last night.
But nevertheless, Dustin sounded frantic and desperate, begging for him to bring you over and alas Eddie gave in.
The boy finally saw the van pull into the driveway and shot up from the couch where he had been resting, watching through the window.
“Shut the music off, Steve!” He shouted, stumbling up and towards the front door.
Everyone rose their brows, Steve following Dustin’s instruction and pausing the cassette that El had let them borrow for the day’s impromptu dance party. Before you and Eddie could even knock on the door, it was pulled open.
The scene of everyone staring at the metal head and cheerleader, quite shocking actually—more shocking than the stares in the hallways at school, which were pretty dreadful already.
You side-eyed Eddie suspiciously wondering what he had gotten you both into before looking back at Dustin.
“Hi?” you squeaked suspiciously, twiddling your hand in the air to greet everyone who waved.
The boy smirked, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you inside roughly without a second thought.
“Dustin, what the hell!” You shrieked having no choice but to move with him in order to avoid tripping over your own feet.
Eddie rolled his eyes, stepping inside and shutting the door closed.
“Henderson, you’ve got three seconds to tell me why you’re dragging my girlfriend like a rag doll.”
Dustin apologetically bowed towards Eddie, dropping your arm and gesturing to the open floor.
Everyone else was either leaning up against the wall or sitting down on the couch, trying to get some rest after the young boy practically forced them to keep dancing until they had something, but nothing was good enough for the damn twerp.
“You know how to dance, right?” Dustin stared at you, and you bounced on your heels, nodding your head slightly.
“I mean, cheerleading does require some dancing but—“
Dustin shushed you, causing you to furrow your brows, and looked around dumbfounded at the action. Steve and Robin were already shooting you sorry looks as they muttered something about his tone and needing a smack to the head.
“Henderson, just tell us why we’re here?” Eddie rubbed at his temples.
He plopped on the empty seat next to Max who looked rather peeved at being stuck there all afternoon when she could have been at the arcade playing Dig-Dug.
She turned to him, gesturing in the air with annoyed hands. “Dustin wants us to learn how to dance for this weekend’s formal.”
Lucas pipped in, looking at the crowd before settling on you. “No one knows how to dance except you.”
A small smile grew upon your face, looking around the room at the sullen faces that were offended at Lucas’ words — mostly Hopper and Joyce, because back in their day, they were pretty darn good dancers if they said so themselves.
Eddie sat up from his spot on the couch, shooting a deceitful look at Lucas while gesturing fondly to himself.
“What? You don’t think she’s the only good dancer around here do you?”
Mike grunted, mumbling under his breath, “You sure don’t look like you knew how to command a dance floor.”
Everyone seemed to agree with Mike, which was extremely rare, even for Hopper who didn’t like the kid all that much.
You crossed your arms, shaking your head at the little shitheads and more offended that they thought your boyfriend couldn't dance.
“Hey! Did you forget Eddie is in a band? He practically eats, sleeps, and breathes rhythm.” You reasoned with a tilt of your head, trying to sway them.
Everyone tried to stifle their laughter but failed terribly. I mean could you blame them?
Eddie played metal music, not that pop disco shit that would be playing at the formal, but that’s because they thought wrong about him. They all thought they had your boy all figured out as the stereotypical metal head that couldn’t dance to save his life, but you were about to make them eat their words.
Contrary to popular beliefs, Eddie was quite the dancer, and a good one at that. He knew how to keep up the pace and swoop you off your feet so smoothly you’d think he was a professional in his past life.
You shot Eddie that look, lifting your shoulders with the silent offer as he looked almost coy before nodding at you, scooting off the couch and shaking his arms off getting himself warmed up.
You glanced at Steve, pointing at the stereo, “Hit it!”
Eddie moved across the floor to you effortlessly, hands going for your hips while you draped yours over his neck — you were like magnets easily finding each other. Your feet slid back and forth, one after the other, following Eddie’s lead that flowed with the music.
“How did you guys know Eddie and I love to dance to ABBA?” You called towards your friends who watched in astonishment.
“You can dance?!” they screeched, eyes widening as they all straightened up in their seats and off the walls, watching with the utmost surprise and shock.
You began to giggle as your boyfriend spun you around into his chest, swaying you both while he placed a kiss on your cheek before spinning you back out.
“Just like the songs says, you just gotta feel the beat.” Eddie rose his brow at them, moving your hips in his hands before you shook your head at his playfulness.
“C’mon, we’ll show you.” You told them, pushing at his chest so that you could skip on over towards Dustin, pulling him to the center of the living room with you.
Eddie went for Max, tilting his head for her to follow his lead and not be so nervous.
“It’s really all about keeping the pace and the beat.” He instructed, looking down at their shoes and Max did her best to not step on his sneakers that were already pretty beat up.
“And loosen up,” you chided, nudging Dustin a bit, “relax those shoulders and move those hips.” You instructed, showing him to roll his shoulders back and swirl his lower body as if he was hula-hooping.
After a while, they started to get the hang of it, easily moving across the floors without stepping on each other’s feet and not being so tense.
“Great, now you two try!” You nodded, handing off Dustin towards Max.
It was awkward at first, the both of them laughing as they didn’t know where to put their hands, but quickly it became natural with what you and Eddie had taught, the basics of keeping up with the rhythm and singing along.
You huffed with hands on your hips, looking around the room for your next student, while Eddie had already grabbed Joyce who was a giggly mess.
“C’mon Mr. Hips, I know they don’t call you king Steve for nothing.” You teased, tiptoeing towards your friend and pulling him along with you.
Before you knew it, the living room was a lively dance floor. Bodies grooving along to music without even second guessing if they were doing it right and just having fun with each other as they sung and tried not to bump into the pair beside them.
“Maybe we should open up a studio and start teaching some classes?” You suggested with a grin, resting your chin on Eddie’s chest, staring up at him.
He chucked, pecking at your nose sweetly, “Don’t get ahead of yourself babe, you know my dancing services are limited to you. This was just a special occasion.”
“Do you have any other talents you want to reveal?” Dustin nudged him with his elbow, prompting Eddie to smirk toward him before looking back at you.
“I can do a pretty gnarly lift, exactly like that one in Dirty Dancing.” He bragged, still pretty surprised at himself that he was able to pull it off.
The girls in the room gasped, including Steve, “No way!”
“Yes way,” You bit your lip with a giggle, remembering that one afternoon you and Eddie had spent together trying to get it down after you had watched the movie.
Steve dropped Robin’s hand, wandering over to the stereo and pausing the track before picking it up by the handle and walking towards the front door. Everyone stared at him, waiting until he sighed, one hand on his hip as he looked at you and Eddie.
“You guys need more room than this. We’re moving outside and that lift better be top tier.” He warned towards Eddie, walking out the front door as everyone else followed his lead.
You and Eddie laughed at how ridiculous it all was — surely none of the kids were going to attempt to pull off a lift in the middle of their formal dance, but it was sure gonna be funny watching everyone else have their try at it.
Eddie hoisted you up, prompting you to laugh into the crook of neck, “C’mon baby, I’m about to blow their socks off.” He said, kissing your cheek with an obnoxiously loud smooch before carrying you out the door.
So maybe you didn’t get to go home and get that shower or finish that movie as soon as you would have liked to, but you sure did get to dance that afternoon away with the love of your life and that in itself was a win.
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💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌
a/n: i have been neglecting my beloved eddie for far too long and this has been sitting in my drafts since forever so here ya go!!! yes eddie is a dancer and that is not up for debate -- yeah my man loves his metal music, but the second he hears a good pop tune he's pulling his gf up and they're dancing like no one is watching.
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @the-alchemys @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3
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lady-ashfade · 1 month
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I thought It Was Normal
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Percy Jackson character x male!reader (gods x reader) (platonic all)
╰・゚✧☽ reader: like klaus from TUA. reader is a little oc in this, but i couldn’t help it. I needed this because I got a funny idea.
╰・゚✧☽ warnings: short , me having little knowledge of what’s to come in the books, not canon just a silly idea
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Camp got new campers every year so it wasn’t like they thought anything of you. The only thing is, you looked too confused to be there, everything Chiron said you would would give him the strangest look. Percy happened to be passing by, you got a tour of camp just like he did. And you were a bit to loud with your words- and let’s face it. He’s a little nosy.
“So you’re saying all the gods just drop their kids off here- or, don’t give them attention until they do something they deem worthy?” You ask like you had no care.
“Really a great idea. Half gods with daddy and mommy issues running around in the same place. Doesn’t sound dangerous at all.” You comment and continued walking with a eye roll.
Percy was interested in you right after that. You made him laugh and shared his views when he first came here, and he still thought them. He didn’t have to wait long to introduce himself since you left Hermes cabin in a rush to get away from people.
You didn’t want to talk to him at first. He tried to introduce himself but you brushed him off and said you weren’t willing to speak.
“I know it’s a lot to take in, but I’m sure you’re parent will claim you.”
You stopped in your tracks and turn around and started to flail your arms. “I am human! I have no godly parent, not like you-. Honestly I wish I was because I would be less concerned about my future.”
“That’s new.” A girl’s voice popped up from behind you and out of no where. A girl with a cap in her hands yanked down from her head, she looked intimidating to you.
“Can you all do that? Just appear out of no where?” You asked slightly scared but amazed.
“Let’s go back to the part where you’re human,” Percy stepped forward like you were a bomb of some sort ready to explode. “Why are you here?” You scuffed and shrugged your shoulders.
“So, i happened to eat a crystal I found in the woods behind my house. It was weird and it had me hypnotized, surprised I didn’t break any teeth, and the next minute I know I’m seeing the dead. And these voices are talking to me, then I’m moved off to this camp.”
“Wait the dead?”
“The gods say I need training before I came to them. Which is weird because you think they would train me themselves…do you guys know what I should do? I have no clue why they want me.” You look at both of them for help but Percy is just staring with his mouth open and shocked. Annabeth looks annoyed and looking you up and down.
“Don’t piss them off.”  she was going to be great help.
Months go by and you grow closer to the trio. it was strange how you seemed to have more strength then a human, and could kept up in training with them. not once did you ever get claimed and it still surprised them to this day how you just become something out of the blue. They tried so hard to get their parents attention but you just- stumped upon something and had the gods interests?
yes, you were human. but no longer a human boy, but a god in training.
“did it have to be him? he’s more chaotic then your son Poseidon.” zues rubbed his temple as the gods watch down on you.
“fate is a funny thing brother.“
“I for one love the kid.” ares smirks as you trip percy and let out a vicious scream. nothing evil or mean behind it, just a adrenaline rush. but ares didn’t take it that why, you were going to be a monster.
“I’ll bless him soon, he should stay in my cabin.” Aphrodite smiles and played with her hair. 
“We all know he’s basically my child, the dead thing? Yeah, he’ll be staying with me in the underworld when it’s time.” Hades smirks at all of them.
and just like that the gods are starting a war all over again.
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Reader: stumbles upon a crystal
the voices: eat me!!
Reader: No!! Let me go!!
Reader then becomes a god.
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noovsie · 2 months
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backstage freak!
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— popstar!reader x manager!todo
cw: fem!reader, semi-public sex, deepthroating, cum eating, creampie, p in v sex, rough sex, manhandling, size difference, etc... not proofread
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todo was tired, of course he was since you were his employer. he had to run around 24/7, tending to all your needs even when you're off work. telling him to grab you snacks from the convenient store in the middle of the night, having him tail around you all the time.
you knew you weren't an easy person to deal with, always having to switch managers, none of them could keep up with you. god somehow blessed you with todo, who didn't complain about getting overworked but that was for a reason he would never admit. he loved seeing you walk so cheerfully in your cute lil' fits, his cock would stir in his pants a bit everytime you laughed at his words.
did he have a crush on you?
maybe it was safe to say you two were on the same page. todo is quite clumsy and the fact that you still hadn't fired him was quiet shocking to other people in your agency. although he was clumsy his visuals made up for it. tan skin, crazy ass body, sharp features that makes you zone out sometimes. you liked how he'd listen to all your orders and do whatever you asked him to do, he was like your lil pet, but you kinda liked that about him.
you were quite annoying at times, always pestering todo about silly little things for fun & giggles, you liked seeing that pissed off look on his face. despite you being annoying as hell todo still kept his composure, he was not one to lose all his self control and snap.
he stayed cool until one day, you wouldn't stop pestering him. it could've been your ovulation cycle that made you almost go feral in his presence, getting anxious, hot n bothered backstage in your changing room a couple hours before your concert.
since you wouldn't shut the fuck up, todo had you on your knees— something you'd never even imagine would happen, your head bobbing up and down on his girthy length as he guided you. he grabbed your hair, pushing your head down on his cock until your nails dug on his thighs, he let out a loud grunt shooting spurts of his cum down your throat making you swallow it all, he let you pull your head back as you grasped for air.
“i've had enough of you” he grunted as he pulled you up to have you stand up, his rough hands gripping on your waist as he turned you around and pushed you towards a vanity. you could see your mascara running down your cheeks, makeup already messed up before the concert. you were gonna have to get it all done again.
without a warning he pushing into your sloppy cunt, earning a loud moan from you, your legs shuddered at the sensation, he let you adjust for a few seconds before he picked up a pace, already going hard enough to the point you couldn't make up any words, thoughts even. all you could do was desperately moan and whimper begging him to slow down although you didn't want him to slow down.
his big rough hands snaked around your torso as he let out groans and grunts into your ear, whispering how good your pussy is as he relentlessly pounded into you until he finally finished inside you, pulling out he looked down to see his cum seeping out your cute lil' cunt, he looked up in the mirror and flashed you a soft smirk before pulling you back, pressing his lips onto yours.
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Aemond Targaryen - Love of My Life
Warnings: Aegon obviously, slight mention of alcohol, allusions to sexual harassment and violence, allusions to nightmare and self inflicted wounds OTHERWISE FLUFF FLUFF AND FLUFF
Words: 2.0k
SHE/HER PRONOUNS // 3rd PERSON VIEW
Summary: Aemond Targaryen didn’t seem like the loveliest person in Westeros but with Y/N, he would do anything to keep his betrothed happy and safe. He was the happiest with her, before and after marrying her.
**Valyrian translation after the imagine, below the --- line. Hope you enjoy and let me know your thoughts.**
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Aemond Targaryen wasn’t kind to everyone. Especially to the ones who crossed him or even annoyed him. 
Aemond Targaryen was only kind to a few people, including Y/N. She meant everything to the silver haired prince.
They both had met each other as children, as they both grew up in King’s Landing. Aemond had seen her for the first time reading a book in the castle’s library. As a child, it was Aemond’s peaceful place and it quickly became theirs. They would often meet after dinner, spend the night reading and talking about plenty of things. He was himself when he was with her. He loved the way she liked him as a person, not as a prince or as an arse. He loved the way she would tell him about everything, only because she trusted him. She would come to him if something was wrong and even as children, they would never lie to each other.
Many years of harmony passed until Aemond lost his eye. He became more distant even though Y/N wanted to be there for him. He wouldn’t let anyone in, at least he tried to let her in, but it was terrifying for him. Her seeing him so destroyed, tainted, as a monster. Yet Y/N did not see him as all those things, she came to his bedroom every so often, talk like they were children again and he would lose himself in her. He would become a child again, a happy one, a kind one. He would get drunk on the sound of her laughter, and he knew that he only wanted her in his life.
Two years after his eye was gone, his mother started to propose women to him, to get him to choose one of them. To make them his betrothed, but he only wanted her. He only wanted Y/N.
“Mother, I will not marry any of those girls.” He dropped on the Queen.
“And why is that, Aemond?” Because I only want Y/N, mother. I want her to be my wife. He urged to say it. He had to. And he did.
“I want to marry lady Y/N.”
His mother looked at him. He looked back at her, all seriousness in his eye. She nodded and walked away. The day after, his mother told him what he could marry her.
He was the happiest man in all Westeros.
The minute she had stepped into his room for their daily encounter, he ran to her and pulled her into his arms.
He spun her around in the air and she giggled loudly. His hands were spalled on her waist and hers tangled in his long hair.
He finally set her down on the ground, the height difference making its way back.
“What have you eaten to make you this happy, my dear Aemond? Have you had a new saddle for Vaghar or something?” She walked deeper into his room to sit on the velvet seat, her beautiful dress promoting her beautiful body.
“I have wonderful news. But I need you to hear me first, no talking.” She nodded as he approached her, kneeling before her.
She looked at him with big innocent eyes.
“We have known each other since we were children, and I have loved every single moment with you, my lady. Tis the day where I am asking you, with my family blessing, to marry me. I have loved you since I saw you in the library. When this,” he said, touching his patched eye, “happened, I closed myself to everyone but you did not let me shut you out. You stayed and I realised then that all I wanted, in my whole existence, was you. I only want you; you are the only one for me. I love you, and I’ll never stop. I swear on the gods. I love you. Would you do me the honor of becoming mine forever?” He exhaled softly; his hands went to grab a small box from his lapel.
He opened the small box before the woman he loved. Her gaze shifted from his face to the beautiful ring, impaled with a blue sapphire decorating it.
“Aemond… I-I…” She was speechless. The expression on her face was unreadable.
He tried to pull away, thinking he made a fool of himself but she pulled his face to meet hers halfway. Their lips joined into sweet harmony and he pulled himself even more into her. His hands roamed on her body, finding their way to the low of her back, her legs spreading to let Aemond get closer.
She pulled away from his lips, her hands on his strong face.
“Yes, I’ll marry you, Aemond. I’d marry you today, I’d have married you if we were children and I’d marry you again any day. I love you, Aemond Targaryen, I always have and I always will.”
His eye was glassy, a huge grin on his face appeared. He pulled one of his hands away, removing the ring from its box and placing around her ring finger. It was perfect.
She smiled so brightly, Aemond kissed her again. He was in heaven and he will always be if he’s with her.
Their wedding happened only weeks after the proposal and Aemond was the happiest with her. She was his and it was everything he ever dreamed of.
One night, a couple of years after their union, she was known as the untouchable wife. Yet someone in his family did not respect the “untouchable” aspect.
She was at a celebration, as were all of Aemond’s family. Music was filling up the room, the banquet was filled with too many people to count. But she could feel the presence of her dear husband behind her. They were both sitting at the main table, he grabbed her hand that landed on her thigh and kissed it, intertwining his fingers as well.
He pulled away, standing up, telling her he’ll be right back. Before he could pull back, she told him that she will go up directly to their room, it was late and she was tired. He nodded, offered her a sweet smile, and kissed her forehead sweetly.
As she made her way up, she was met with Aegon, his brother. Aegon was known for his sense, or his lack of sense, for the word “no”.
“Hello, wife. How dare you look so fine this evening!” He reeked of wine and many other beverages.
“Aegon, I am not your wife. Please go back to the venue, I’m sure there’s more women interested in you.” I desperately wanted him to go away.
“Mhm, must you have mistaken me, lady Y/N, yet I don’t like that attitude of yours.” He suddenly gripped her wrist tightly, and she tried to get out of his reach.
“Let go Aegon. Let. Me. Go. Now.” She ordered yet he pulled her flush to his chest and she hated every second of it. He breathed her in, and she pulled even harder to get out of his reach. He gripped her waist and before she knew it, she was pinned to a wall with both of her hands pressed behind her back, hitting the brick wall.
As he pressed himself even closer to her, she punched him between his legs and slapped him down on the ground before running away to her chambers.
Time passed before Aemond returned to their room. Y/N was asleep when he came into the room. Her peaceful form decorating the bed, her hair draping the pillow. He reached to her side, sitting besides her. He placed a sweet kiss on her forehead before reaching his side of the bed.
They were both sleeping in no time before Y/N was stirring up in her sleep. Aemond, like the light sleeper that he is, woke up in a second. She was whimpering in her sleep, her head snapping from sides to sides. She was clawing at her wrist, which Aemond tried to get her to stop.
“Jorrāelagon, wake up. Come on”, he clasped lightly at the hand that was clawing the other. “Y/N, wake up, come on, wake up.” He shook her slightly, sitting up in the bed.
She woke up and jolted up with small cry, she tried to pull away from him, as if he had hurt her.
“It’s alright, issa jorrāelagon, you’re alright. You're safe.” She realised that it wasn’t Aegon. It was only him. Only Aemond, the boy who she had loved for so long.
She melted into sobs when he pulled her in his arms, her legs pulled over his, one arm around her waist and the other one cradling her head. Her head and heavy sobs laid on his chest, his face resting by her head.
“Did you have a nightmare, dōna mirre?” She nodded weakly. Her sobs resuming. He praised her with sweet word in her ear, he cradled her in his arms, assuring her that she was safe.
Her sobs calmed down and she found peace in his heartbeat.
He looked down at the sight of her wife, he saddens at her gaze, his heart breaking because something is troubling her.
The hand that was cradling her head softly pulled at the wrist she was hurting in her sleep. He saw, even in the dim darkness, that there were marks, not of her nails, but of a tight embrace.
“Who did this to you, my love? When did this happen?” He questioned her softly, not wanting to startle her.
“I don’t want you to be mad.” She responded lightly.
He pulled her chin, making her look up at him.
“Love, I won’t be mad, I promise. I just want to know the truth.” He brushed her hair out of her face.
“It was Aegon. He was drunk, like always, but I was walking up to go to our room and he called me his wife, and he pulled my wrist,” She sniffled, Aemond felt her breath accelerate.
“Breathe my love, take your time.” He purred. Aemond was boiling on the inside but he could never be harsh on her.
“He pushed me to the wall, started to press himself against me, and I punched him away. I ran as fast as I could. I thought he was going to run after me, Aemond, I was so scared.” She truthfully told Aemond, her tears seeping his night shirt.
“Oh, dōna mirre, I’m sorry he’s done this to you. I’ll handle him in the morning, and I promise you he won’t ever touch you again, nobody will.” He caressed her hair, calming her down. He kissed the palm of her hand, trailing kisses down to her inflamed wrist. She calmed down, leaning into his touch.
Aemond pulled her down with him, to lay together in the bed.
“Everything is going to be just fine, darling. Rest in my arms, you’re safe.”
She turned to be faced with his chest. She looked up to his figure, some strands of glittery hair falling on his face.
“I love you, valzȳrys. Thank you for always being here for me.”
“No need to thank me, that’s what I’m here for. I love you." He whispered in her ear, pulling her against him, kissing her forehead and the rest of her face sweetly. She fell asleep in his arms, as she always did.
He’d deal with Aegon in the morning, and everything will be alright.
She’ll be alright. She was with Aemond after all.
“Ao sagon se jorrāelagon hen issa glaeson.” He pressed one last kiss on the ring that laid upon his wife’s finger and went into a peaceful sleep.
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I hope you like this imagine, I had a pleasure writing this. Here are the traduction in english for the Valyrian words.
Jorrāelagon: Love
issa jorrāelagon: my love
dōna mirre: sweet thing
valzȳrys: husband
Ao sagon se jorrāelagon hen issa glaeson: You are the love of my life
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