#so instead of trying to make a common language for your class

[throckmortons-thrussy]

Vent time!

Was thrown off gaurd today in class because my Professor veered way off into unknown territory that I wasn't prepared for, and he kept talking like it all made sense.

I actually finished reading, highlighting, and taking notes on the chapters he assigned so I could contribute to the class discussion... And he didn't even use the terms the book used? He was describing the concepts we read, but with different terminology and equations with different symbols than the ones the book supplied.

Like, I was flipping back and forth through my notes, and I just couldn't follow along with what he was talking about.

The class discussion was... well, pretty much nonexistent. You can see in my notes the moment things stopped making sense because there's just a large gap of nothing, and then me trying to make sense of some of the equations he was using near the bottom.

I stayed after at least 20 minutes with him, trying to understand if maybe I misunderstood the reading or if my notes went in the wrong direction. Maybe I did notes on the wrong chapter? I was so lost.

Come to find out... My professor doesn't agree with a lot of the language used in our readings. Not only that, he brushed off the terminology I had written in my notes and said what he was saying was basically the same thing. And the equations!! He was just free-balling them! He said that he was just making up letter...

Like, my dude... WHY ASSIGN US TO READ THE FUCKING CHAPTER IF YOU'RE NOT GOING TO EVEN USE THE SAME TERMINOLOGY AND EQUATIONS?

Sorry... I just- I can usually still follow along well in class, even if I haven't completed the assigned readings. I wanted to start this semester on the right foot with this BEHV class since I'm trying to decide between minoring in Behavior Analysis or Counciling.

Like, the chapter started getting a too wordy for me near the 3/4th mark, so I had 2 pages of notes just trying to get the terms straight and even did extra examples for each to make sure I understood what the theory was saying.

I showed him these and asked if they made sense, or if I went wrong somewhere... Wanna know what he said?

That it was all correct; however, he thinks people get too caught up in the terms and language of the field when they should focus on the science.

...

How are we supposed to begin to understand the science when THE WORDS YOU'RE USING TO DESCRIBE THESE PHENOMENON ARE DIFFERENT THAN THE ONES ON THE CHAPTER?!

I was hoping this class would provide clarification for all the terms thrown at us in the reading, but instead, he made these concepts all the more confusing (and added NEW interchangeable words I need to worry about).

I haven't been this frustrated in a class in so long. By the time I got home and finished walking my dog (very frusterated walking at that), I craved potato chips for the first time in YEARS. I found some old chips my roommate hadn't finished off yet and binged a bit.

This class is literally titled Basic Behavior Principles and has no prerequisites.

Listen, he's smart. He knows his stuff. He's a master's student pursuing his doctorate degree in the subject.

He also has no idea how to present this information in a concise way to an undergraduate class that doesn't require any prerequisites.

I'm going to keep pushing forward. Get in touch with the other students in class. Maybe he just threw way too much at us way too fast. I don't know. I'm just so confused by his approach and goals with this class.

#vent #personal #college stuff #college stress #Basic Behavior Principles #binging #not a whole lot but it was definitely out of the norm for me #it's just week 2 #🫠 #academic language barrier #the first chapter literally talked about not having a common language in the field leading to a lot of earlier disagreements #so instead of trying to make a common language for your class #you just threw out the whole concept #there is no common language! just understand the overall message of Behavior Analysis! #man...

[gglitch1dd]

HIIIIII!! I am so glad the anon feature is back Im so shy!

could I please request a small little blurb of Izuku beating up kaachan just overall tired of getting berated and things like that from katsuki. idk im rewatching the series and just want Izuku to put katsuki in his place one time for the one time! ORR a small story of reader, Izuku, and katsuki being friends and growing up together and reader always stood up for my boy Izuku.

pink and green heart anon (im on my laptop and can't access my emojis)

Ooooh Someone speaking my language. Hello 💚🩷 Anon!! I'm so sorry this took so long to answer. I've been busy IRL and with my main fics so I haven't gotten to all my asks but I'm sorting through them. I hope you're doing okay sweetheart :)

Fuck you

Midoriya Izuku x Reader

You sat in the common room of the dorms trying to think up of a plan for this years culture festival. Being in third year UA High School, the past two years you had always done something musical themed, but now your class wasn't entirely sure on what to do this year.

"I think maybe a combined project with Class B could work." Midoriya pitched in. The green haired hero had certainly changed the past three years. He was taller now, with added muscle gain too, however often than not you barely noticed unless he was shirtless. His emerald eyes looked over at the group of you that stood around the table. "They are good at plays and we are good at music. Together we could put on something that caters to both and inbetween audiences."

Iida Tenya nodded his head with furrowed eyebrows. "I can talk to Kendo-san but i doubt she would be opposed to it with them."

Asui let out a ribbit as she smiled. "That sounds like a great idea Midoriya-kun." She stated.

You nodded your head as you looked at the green haired teenager in your class. "It is a brilliant idea. We could do a musical!" You suggested. "Why didn't we think of that before. Good job, Midoriya." You praised as well with a light shove to the side of him.

A light blush went to his face but he just smiled, grateful for your support. He opened his mouth to speak but a TSK was heard.

Leaning back in a chair around the table was Bakugou Katsuki, who you were even shocked was here in the first place. Judging by Kirishima (the big man he was starting to turn out to be) was standing behind him, you could only guess it was his idea. "That's a stupid idea, but no surprise considering it came from Deku."

"Whoa dude." Denki let out surprised a the unnecessary friendly fire.

"Bakugou, don't be so rude!" Kirishima hissed down at his best friend. His ruby eyes moved up to Midoriya who stood with a frown on his face. "I'm sorry Midoriya."

"I'm not." Bakugou let out as he stopped leaning back to sit up straight. "The last thing we need is a combined project. It takes too much time and our two classes have different scheduled times too."

Momo had her hands holding her arms as she kept her sweater tight around her. "I'm sure we can work around it." She suggested with a gentle shrug.

"Not with the way Aizawa has been grilling us into the ground. I mean, really Deku? Joining with Class B? A fifth grader could have come up with that!" Bakugou shouted.

"Bakugou, just stop it okay." You said with a frown. "Leave him alone, it's a good idea!"

Instead of looking bashful of shy or ashamed, Midoriya just stared at Katsuki with emotionless green eyes. Midoriya had started getting more and more fed up with Bakugou's antics and the two started butting heads more and more. "What is your problem?"

"HUH?!"

"You fucking heard me, don't make me repeat myself." You had to double take as you looked to Midoriya, shocked that you just heard what he said come out of his mouth. He kept his hands in his pockets as he looked down at Bakugou in half disgust. Iida was shocked himself, not even trying to correct Midoriya on his language.

Bakugou paused with a disbelieving look. He closed his crimson red eyes and let out a light scoff as he moved to put his hands on the table as he stood up. "My problem? If I find an idea stupid, I'll call it stupid."

"No." Midoriya denied with a shake of his head. "No, this is deeper. You have an issue with me and I want to know why? What did I ever do to you!?" He asked as he put a hand to his chest.

"You coming to this fucking school." Bakugou specified. "You trying to act like you aren't the same quirkless little loser that you were four years ago! A hand me down quirk from All Might will never change that."

"Oh my God." Midoriya laughed in disbelief. "Why won't you grow up, Kacchan! How on earth you can feel threatened by me is something I can't even try and understand!"

Bakugou's eyebrows raised. "Threatened by you? Oh no, Deku. I can't be threatened by nothing."

You gasped as you snapped to look at the blond. "What the hell!"

"That's not very nice, Bakugou." Todoroki let out with a frown and furrowed eyebrows.

Bakugou just stared at Midoriya. "I preferred you in middle school. At least then you knew your place."

Midoriya didn't move for a moment before he slowly started to nod his head. Almost like he understood where Bakugou was coming from. However, not even a second later, Bakugou was on the floor and there was a flash of light.

Midoriya had pinned Bakugou to the ground as he raised his right hand up and punched the blond again with little to no humanity in his eyes. The green haired boy, seemed more determined to kill than anything.

"MIDORIYA!" Kirishima shouted as he tried to pull the green haired boy off of Bakugou.

Bakugou grinned as he laughed with a bloody smile but just managed to get Midoriya on the side of his face. A spark of his palm was aimed at Midoriya's face but Midoriya easily dodged with One for All, before punching him square in the nose.

Suddenly Shinso's binding cloth wrapped around Midoriya as he was pulled off of Bakugou. He frowned with a similar expression to Aizawa Sensei. Sero quickly managed to tape up Bakugou to keep the blond away from Midoriya as well. With the both of them restrained and restricted from each other.

Midoriya let out a frustrated growl as he fought against Shinso's binding. Bakugou let out a laugh as he grinned. "You punch like shit!"

"FUCK YOU!" Midoriya shouted at the blond with thin small pupils as he untangled himself and walked out of the common room.

-Glitch1d

#midoriya izuku angst #midoriya izuku #midoriya x reader #izuku x reader #mha x y/n #kirishima x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku midoriya angst #tw angst

[kivino]

BIG GUY || SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X GN!READER

my masterlist

ao3 link to this fic

Word counter – ~1,8k

Tags/Warnings – Fluff, a bit of miscommunication and jealousy, nothing much.

Summary – Ghost takes a liking to the nickname you give him, but struggles to understand just how much he likes it.

A/n – I’m still struggling with my school projects so wish me luck, I made this instead of making a video for my language class lmao, enjoy! i’ll add the ao3 link a bit later.

upd. link added for ao3 enjoyers!

It didn't miss anybody, the way Ghost seemed more easygoing and light-hearted on certain days, letting recruits get away with a bit more than usual. Coincidentally, it was right after various interactions with you, be it training or sparring together, doing reports, moving some shit around the base, or just hanging out in the common room. Nobody could just figure out what it was about your interactions that lifted Simon’s spirits so high, which was notoriously hard, courtesy of how gloomy or menacing the man usually appeared. But the answer was quite simple, really.

“Thanks, big guy. Always a huge help.” Simon catches your small smile as you pat him on the shoulder and nods, barely containing his joy, he’d hate to make it too obvious. He was wearing a balaclava after all, and the smallest stretch of the fabric on his cheeks and around his mouth could easily give away how joy spread itself in his chest at the affectionate nickname.

Big guy. Big guy. Your big guy.

Nickname reserved only for him, exclusively from you. Of course, Ghost knew he’d be larger than your average soldier, and that regularly got acknowledged by others, but something about you calling him like this made it different. That pleasant warmth inside, which reminded him of the sun, or that stupid fluttering in his stomach, was…unusual to say the least. It made his mood better almost instantly, an interaction he eagerly, but silently looked forward to each day. Something about you calling him a big guy made his head spin, swimming in the endless clouds. Something Ghost hasn't felt in a long time and didn’t think he’d ever experience.

It was easy to let down his guard around you, you stripped him of the metaphorical armor just like this, with an effortless joke and that godforsaken pet name thrown in somewhere in the conversation. And just like that - Ghost’s low laugh rumbled in unison with yours, heart missing a beat when he looked into your eyes that sparkled with something unknown and captivating. It felt…good. New. And so fucking warm, Ghost felt like he was about to suffocate.

You were the newbie, your reputation preceded you but Ghost didn’t pay much attention to all the rumors swirling around on the base, like some suspicious soup in a boiling pot. He had better things to do. Like following you similarly to a lost puppy, maybe staring intently right at you with his huge brown eyes, if he was feeling brave. Or lingering somewhere around, just to make sure you’re adjusting alright. After all, all of you soldiers have to look out for each other, right? Right. Definitely.

It felt good to finally be able to just laugh and play around with someone, who didn’t seem scared shitless by his presence, mask and, well…everything about him, that seemingly drove people away. Not that he didn’t understand the reasoning for that – quite on the contrary. But you were probably just built differently, drawn to the weird, unappealing, and scary. Maybe Ghost should feel lucky that you were like that. And truth be told, he did. He liked it and he liked you.

Ghost could only hope that he lightened up the things for you the way you did for him. To ask and dig deeper would probably be too much, Simon could still feel that caution and tremble at the mere thought of trying to grow closer to you and spend even more time together. Like he’ll put a curse on you the moment he decides to open up a bit more and show you at least some inner workings of his mind on a more intimate level than just some stupid puns, or gossip and discussions about the way you spent your day. Although they were certainly pleasant, with you giving him a subtle, understanding smile from across the table, while steam from your coffee mug made it seem so domestic and wholesome like Ghost was in a dream. So, Ghost kept what little distance he could, despite his wishes, and hoped that you take your time and be patient with him.

That is until he overheard something that startled him, to say the least.  

“Well, your jokes are a bit too much for me, big guy.” You say, letting out a clear, loud laugh, as you patted Soap’s chest. Scotsman straightened up almost immediately in front of you, a proud toothy smile beaming on his face. Now Ghost felt like he just got punched in the gut, for some reason. Annoyed and on edge in a split second. But why? He truly couldn’t seem to pin down the reason for the surge of anger and something bitter in his chest, bubbling right under his skin.

It was probably nothing worth his attention. Just something weird with his body, exhaustion from the training, muscle cramps...or whatever it could be. In any case, running headfirst into dissecting his mind for something so small and minuscule? Ridiculous, really. Completely unnecessary. Of course, Simon knew that both you and Johnny weren’t saints, two rascals more like, but he had no obvious reason to feel this bitter stinging inside of him, that slithered and slipped around, followed by tightening of his throat and bobbing of his Adam’s apple. He swallowed loudly, trying to wash down that gross aftertaste on his tongue hours after he saw that interaction. And the fact that he couldn’t get it out of his head was telling enough, that he was, in fact, bothered by something.

So, Simon decided to do what he did best. Bottle it up. But then it just kept sitting in his head, that nasty feeling still eating him from the inside out. It didn’t help that he started seeing you talking with Johnny more often, while Simon unintentionally avoided you, still buried deep in his thoughts and contemplations about what caused him to feel the way he did. Of course, he couldn’t help but eavesdrop. And there you were. Laughing with him. Calling him “big guy”. Again. This only caused Simon to become more cranky and unfriendly, taking his frustrations out on poor privates who’ve never ran so many laps in their entire lives.

The only people Ghost was outright cruel and merciless to were his enemies. He wasn’t the friendliest guy, of course, but everyone noticed when the lieutenant who usually would crack jokes and dumb puns at the expense of others at most suddenly started to get annoyed at smaller mistakes more, using harsher words and overall look like he was down in the dumps. Nobody dared to talk about the subject though, so Ghost was left terrorizing the privates and recruits, having lunches in his office and avoiding areas where he knew you’d be at certain times of the day from your long talks before. Which, of course, didn’t help him to understand what was wrong at all.

So, all Ghost was left with were his own thoughts. He didn’t feel jealous of you interacting with other people before. You were never his, so he had no right for that at all. But there had to be something else that pushed Simon to where he was now, tired, unsatisfied, and craving at least a passing smile and a short “Hey there” from you. So that the two of you could sit down somewhere together, and you’d talk about some irrelevant nonsense, and then you’d open your mouth again and call him “big guy”. It didn’t feel fair that Johnny got to be called that. It was Simon’s nickname. From you. Wait-wait-wait, hold on a second.

The sudden revelation as to why exactly Ghost was feeling that way when he saw you talk with the sergeant hit him like a damn bus. Fuck, that is childish. Weird. God, Simon feels like a damn creep. Getting upset because of a damn nickname, way to fucking go, you oaf. This felt confusing. Irrational. Absolutely fucking stupid. To think that something that simple threw him off so easily. That’s human relationships for you. Now it felt like he needed even more time. Not to make it complicated. Not to hurt you and himself.

Regardless of his wishes, he didn’t have any more time to think when he was soon approached by you, a concerned frown adorning your face, along with a look full of sympathy and understanding. Ghost already dreaded the conversation that hadn’t even begun. And he wasn’t even the one reaching out first. Which makes it even more embarrassing.

“Hey, Simon. I have something I want to talk about with you.” You, bless your heart, probably thought something terrible happened in Simon's life when in reality he was just running away from you and his feelings like a whole wildfire was chasing him. The only correlation he could think of is dumb teenagers, which is…remotely fitting with his recent behavior. “I’ve noticed you’ve been kind of…avoiding me? Did something happen, or am I just overthinking everything?”

“It’s stupid, really. Nothing you should be worrying yourself about.” Ghost blurts out before he can even think. Great, now he can only tell you the whole truth, without the options to back out or lie. But it was truly so unusual for him because Simon never expected to get attached to a nickname and to you.

“Well, let’s hear you out. I won’t judge.” Again, with your perfect reassuring smile and your calming presence. Simon lets out a deep sigh, his throat itching from what is about to ensue. He knew he was going to embarrass himself, but he just couldn’t bring himself to lie. Which would’ve been so much easier, instead of baring his true feelings in front of you.

“Well, your nickname for me…You know what I’m talking about.” Simon’s tone is deep and gruff as he tries to conceal that uncertainty in his voice. You appear to be listening attentively, your eyes trained on him, head slightly tilted to the side, which makes his heart melt. You give him a confident nod at the mention of the nickname, and Ghost continues. “I want you to call only me like that. And I mean, only me” He can see your eyebrow rising, your expression more teasing than questioning. There we go, now you’re going to mock him or laugh at him. Just perfect.

“Sure thing, big guy.” A shudder runs down Simon’s spine from your words, a sweet, saccharine feeling immediately blossoming in his chest. Oh, he had no words to describe how hard he missed it. All his worries lifted immediately. You didn’t find it weird. In fact, from what Ghost could tell by your satisfied expression, it was quite the opposite of the reaction Simon initially expected. Which was extremely relieving. He would hate to lose your intriguing relationship to the miscommunication of his own making. “Could’ve just said that you wanted it reserved just for you.”

Oh, it wasn’t just the nickname that did it to him. But it’s a bit too early to tell you that.

check out my masterlist for more fics or send me a request/comment!

#cod mw2 #call of duty #call of duty mwii #call of duty x reader #cod mwii #modern warfare ii #ghost x reader #cod #mw2022 #mw2 x reader #mw2 2022 #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #cod ghost #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost call of duty #mw2 ghost #ghost mw2 #ghost cod

[linghxr]

Advice I would give my past self about studying Chinese

Recently I've been reflecting on my Chinese learning journey and how far I've come. If I could go back in time, these are 10 things I would tell my past self. A few are specific to Chinese, but most can apply to any language

It will get so much easier to learn new characters. I remember feeling overwhelmed because learning new characters was a painful process. Now when I encounter a new character, I can remember it with relative ease—it’s just a new combination of familiar components.

Don't feel bad about having uneven development in different skills. My listening and reading are significantly stronger than my speaking and writing. It’s super common and nothing to be ashamed of.

The best way to get over being too embarrassed to speak is to experience some embarrassment and realize it’s not a big deal. I used to be so afraid of making mistakes that I would avoid speaking in class. It was only by being forced to speak that I got over it. I'm much better for it!

It’s impossible to learn everything, and time is limited. You have to prioritize. You probably don’t need to know how to say “pawnshop” in Chinese, and trying to jam your head full of 100 words you saw once won’t work. They won’t stick.

It will actually be harder to read pinyin than to read characters at some point. When I helped a friend with a script for her Chinese class, I really struggled because she had written it entirely in pinyin. I had to write out the characters to read without stumbling! I know characters are daunting for beginners, but trust me, you will get used to them.

If you haven’t practiced or learned something, of course you won’t be good at it. I remember feeling so frustrated trying to navigate Chinese websites for the first time. In retrospect, obviously, I was going to struggle with something completely new to me!

If something isn’t sticking, move on. Why waste time on a word that’s not clicking when you could be learning five new ones? It will only result in unnecessary frustration. So unless you need to know it for your class or a proficiency test, drop it and move on.

Don’t beat yourself up when you have trouble understanding music, literature, different accents, etc. These can be challenging even in your native language. Of course you’re going to struggle more in a new language.

It's worth it to pay attention to things like stroke order and tones from the start so you don't form bad habits. Don’t stress about get it perfect, but it’s easier to do it right the first time than to have to correct your bad habits in the future.

Instead of feeling overwhelmed by all that you don’t know, learn how to express yourself with what you do know. It’s truly its own skill that requires practice. After all, in life you can’t always stop and pull out a dictionary.

I started learning Chinese a really long time ago, but I became more serious about it in 2018, so 5 1/2 years ago. I'm very proud of how far I've come, but I still have a long way to go! I look forward to revisiting this post in another couple of years 😊

#my learning #chinese #mandarin #mandarin chinese #chinese language #studyblr #langblr #learning languages #language learning #chinese langblr #mandarin langblr #languageblr

[izels-writing]

r. lupin — flirting

Pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

Summary: in which y/n flirts every chance she gets and remus can’t help but secretly love it

Warnings: suggestive language (it’s a fluff fic tho!), pregnancy (?, just toward the end)

was y/n good at flirting? yes and no. she was horrible at flirting with other people, absolutely horrible. but there was one person that she were somehow amazing at flirting with.

remus lupin.

she wasn't sure why. she figured it was the shyness or the fact that he only really spoke to lily evans or his best friends james potter, sirius black, and peter pettigrew. other people he tended to cut conversations short or he pretended to have to go. he never seemed to fancy being around other people.

that's what made her so interested in him. how couldn't she be?

"come on, y/n! we'll be late!" y/f/n called out, pulling y/n out of the common room and rushing down the corridor. y/n huffed and followed quickly behind her rushed friend.

finally arriving in potions, y/f/n took their seat next to their boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, leaving her to wander over to your usual seat. one she had next to a certain nerdy, quiet yet witty boy. most of the time in potions, she could hear him mutter some smart comment under his breath, making her giggle and earn herself a detention. though he usually muttered a quiet apology and focused on the potion instead of trying to get her out of the detention, she never took offense and shrugged it off. always.

the bell rang, and like clockwork, four boys burst inside. one had black, unruly hair and rectangular glasses. another was handsome with black, long hair and stormy grey eyes. the shortest one was giggling, fixing his uniform on his stubby body. the last, y/n's personal favorite, was a tall and lanky boy who had more scars than bare skin and slightly toned arms.

there were many things no one noticed about remus, things that y/n did. he always wore baggy clothes, but when he brought his sleeves up he had toned and slight muscle to his arms, or how when he stretch his shirt would ride up just enough for her to see the muscle that had likely built up over the years.

"take a seat boys, class is just about the begin..." slughorn sighed, like he did almost every day.

"no problem sluggy." james potter, the quidditch jock of the group, grinned, making his way to sit next to lily evans, his (to her misfortune as she proclaimed falsely) potions partner.

"say, did you do something to your hair today?" sirius asked in fake curiosity, earning a stern nod over to his seat from slughorn. both he and peter walked over to their seats, along with remus, who quickly sat next to y/n.

"hey handsome." y/n winked, smiling teasingly at him. remus gave a small smile back, used to this kind of behavior from her.

"hi y/n." he replied quietly, getting out some of the essentials for today's lesson, which had been written by slughorn on the blackboard.

"today, my bright students, we'll be brewing the draught of peace. a potion you should all be familiar with. it'll take up most of the class time, and afterward, i want you to test them on each other. but only a small dosage, as too much and brewed wrongly can result in a very long and irreversible sleep. the recipe for this commonly used potion is on page 342 of your textbooks. you may begin."

y/n took quick notice to how slughorn sat down at his desk and lied his head down. while she wasn't always observant, it was a little clear that their professor was recovering from a strong hangover.

"don't you just love it when our teacher tasks us with O.W.L potions because he can't handle his liquor." y/n mumbled, turning your page to the one slughorn had mentioned.

"oh definitely...it's right next to when james and sirius drink on a school night." remus replied sarcastically.

she chuckled, "sounds fun."

"very. especially when i wake up to one of them vomiting in the bathroom." remus grinned, walking off to retrieve some ingredients.

y/n watched him grab the things, fighting the urge to think of any flirtatious comments. instead, she placed her cauldron on the table and started reading the instructions.

when he finally returned, they both started on the potion.

"okay, now add the powdered unicorn horn. the right amount, y/n, i would rather not be put in a irreversible sleep because of your antics." remus remarked, watching y/n carefully as she measured out the ingredient.

"gee, you sure have a way with words for such a big..." she glanced down flirtatiously, "mouth. don't worry remus, i can handle such a large task. though i'm sure that's not the only large thing i can handle-"

"y/n!" remus gasped quietly.

y/n acted nonchalant and added the horn, looking over for the next ingredient. stir until red.

"alright now stir." y/n said, nodding at the cauldron. remus nodded and started stiring, making her smirk and watch him. he fought his blush hard under her gaze, but he couldn't help it.

y/n felt giddy every time she could make him blush. it felt accomplishing for some reason.

"am i making you nervous, mr. prefect?" she asked, leaning against the desk with a smirk.

"no, just not used to being stared at creepily." remus retorted, stiring still.

"oh i highly doubt that, such a handsome face and an even better smile, i doubt you don't get stared at." y/n replied. remus rolled his eyes, making her frown momentarily, but nonetheless she regained her confidence as soon as his lip twitched upward.

—

after the two them finished their potion and tested it, and helped mediate a argument between lily and james, class quickly came to an end. the bell rang and slughorn shot up, bringing all of the attention to himself.

"good work today! for homework i want you all to write a small essay on the draught of peace potion and its history, which will be due on friday. have a wonderful night and i'll see you all tomorrow." slughorn said, walking out quickly.

y/n groaned and started shoving her things back into her bag. she wasn't very good at researching, mainly because she always seemed to get distracted on anything else. and there was also the fact that she hated essays in general.

remus looked over at the girl, wondering why exactly she had been groaning. under her breath, he could hear her mumbling about being rubbish at research and essays. he contemplated his next decision for a moment. should he ask her to study? though he didn't admit to it, he quite enjoyed the girls company at times. but did he really want to deal with your obvious flirting for minutes or maybe even hours?

his mind immediately answered yes, even if every time she flirted he struggled to refrain from kissing her right then and there to shut her up. lovingly of course.

"hey, do you want to study with me for this essay?" he asked, making y/n look up quickly. she smiled widely and nodded.

"of course, i'd love to." she replied.

"alright—um, just meet me in the library thursday at three?" he suggested awkwardly. y/n grinned.

"alright, i look forward to our date," she winked and walked off, swinging her bag over her shoulder. remus watched her as she did, smiling subtly at how she'd subconsciously fix her hair or how she'd laugh at whatever y/f/n had just said.

"did you, moonikens, just land yourself a date with someone who has so painfully obvious been into you for some time now?" a teasing voice behind him ask. remus rolled his eyes.

"it's not a date, pads, i'm just helping her study." remus replied, swinging his bag over his shoulder while the pair waited for james and peter.

"well, i can tell you that my study dates don't usually end in just studying," sirius said, nudging remus.

"he means they end in blowjobs." james said bluntly. remus scrunched up his nose, "well, i gathered that much."

"merlin, let's just please get to the kitchens..." peter mumbled.

——

the date had come faster than expected, much faster. so much so, that y/n almost forgot about it. she had so much piled onto herself, with homework assignments.

"y/n, don't you have that date or something?" y/f/n asked, shutting their book and looking up at their friend.

y/n nodded and looked at the clock.

2:55 p.m. it read.

she gasped and shot up, throwing her things inside her bag. bidding a quick goodbye, she ran out of her common room and started toward the stairs.

"watch it!"

"hey!"

"woah!"

y/n could care less how many people she bumped into, she didn't want to be late. lupin likely wouldn't wait for her if she was. once she reached the library, she stumbled through, ignoring madam pinces glare, and ran toward a dirty-blonde haired boy.

throwing herself in the seat in front of him, she took deep breaths, panting quietly.

his watch rang and remus smirked, turning his arm so that she could see it.

3:00 p.m.

"right on time, l/n," he grinned.

"aw, are we back to last name basis again?" y/n mumbled, pouting playfully.

remus rolled his eyes and took out his own materials for their potions essay, making her do the same.

"okay, we could start by using our text books to find the basic information. you don't seem to open yours much," remus said teasingly.

y/n grinned, "why would i, when i have someone so much better to look at in potions?" remus quickly caught on and flushed a light pink, rolling his eyes.

"anyway, we can finish this essay in about an hour and a half i say, sound good?" remus asked, looking up at y/n.

"sounds great, handsome," y/n replied nonchalantly. unbeknownst to her, remus felt a little jittery every time she called him that.

as the hour and a half passed, y/n was surprisingly the first to finish her essay. remus wrote his last sentence as y/n began to fidget in her seat and toss her muggle stress ball into the air and caught it.

"okay! i am done!" remus grinned, quietly shutting his text books and putting away his essay.

"cool, and it's only 4:30," you smirked.

remus leaned back in his chair. "y'know, you didn't have to wait up for me...you'd could've gone..."

y/n shrugged and grinned slyly, "i know, but i wanted to. besides, now that we're both done, we can hang out!"

"no, look," remus shook his head, "i'm a bore and you'd immediately want to leave,"

y/n raised her eyebrow. "sounds like a challenge, what do you got?"

remus chuckled and shrugged. "okay...want to go to the kitchens and make tea and then read?"

y/n thought for a moment. she wasn't one to stay still very well, that much was obviously since she was a young girl. however, doing this with remus didn't sound all too unappealing.

she leaned closer. "can you read to me?"

remus flushed as she grinned at her suggestion, and although it wasn't technically, it felt inherently intimate. she clearly didn't see it this way, so he couldn't either. he smiled warmly at her and nodded.

"yeah, i'll read to you." he smiled.

——

remus's voice was low and calming, and for some reason, felt like music in her ears. y/n laid her head on his lap, looking up at him as he read from the book. he had begun stroking her hair, making this situation even more relaxing.

she sat up for a moment, taking a sip of her tea, handing remus his cup as he asked for it. he paused his reading and smiled at her.

"you sure you're not bored yet?" he asked.

y/n shook her head. "of course not! i'm getting really into the story. mr. darcy is an ass, isn't he?" she took another sip of the tea.

remus nodded and chuckled. "he gets better, i promise."

"he better," y/n said, making a face, "elizabeth needs something better than that,"

"yes, she does," remus agreed. "if anything, you remind me of her,"

y/n grinned and raised an eyebrow teasingly. "do i? does that make you my mr. darcy?"

remus rolled his eyes playfully, pulling her to lay back down on his lap. "you wish...now, let me finish the chapter."

"as you wish, mr. lupin," y/n teased, remus' actions eliciting a laugh from her.

and for a moment as remus read and as y/n listened, y/n wasn't going out of her way to flirt obnoxiously with the boy and remus wasn't going out of his way to reject or wave off her attempts. instead, she listened to his silky voice and entered a relaxing mindset as she closed her eyes. meanwhile, remus glanced down at the girl every so often and couldn't help the ever growing smile on his face.

bonus:

remus lupin closed the book he held quietly, looking down at y/n who's eyes snapped open.

"was that really the end?" she frowned.

"well, there's a sequel, but i figured we should start it tomorrow," remus suggested. "we have that appointment early tomorrow,"

"but! but—it's not even that important? what're they gonna tell me? that the baby is growing hands? thanks, i would hope so!" y/n protested, sitting up with a struggle at the growing stomach she currently had. she wasn't too far along, but that didn't make it any easier to manage.

"these appointments are important, remember what lily told you?" remus lectured. "i promise we can start the sequel tomorrow..."

y/n frowned, pouting. "you're no fun."

remus placed a hand on her stomach, feeling a light kick, making y/n grin slightly. "one of us has to be the bad parent,"

"we both agreed it would be me," y/n reminded.

"we'll see when he's born, mrs. lupin," remus grinned.

y/n smiled warmly. "i suppose we will, mr. lupin."

#remus john lupin #remus lupin #remus x reader #remus x you #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew #the marauders #the marauders era

[gourmetjello]

könig x reader : used

i’m sorry if könig is getting repetitive ahaha who else would you guys like to see ? ♡( ◡‿◡ ) and huge thank you to everyone that likes and reads my posts! and my wonderful mutuals! and thank you for the kind words, they really made my day <3

as usual -> 2nd person pov (i’m finally trying it out!! eek!!) & english isn’t my first language. i know i said that this will be a fluff but gosh — i’m a simple woman, i have a little thought about angst and i have to write it. sorry!! i hope you’ll still like it though!

i know i’ve written about young könig in the military but i just had this idea and i have to write an oneshot about his last few days back at home!

—

you knew the tall, silent guy in your class was trouble.

at a point you even started to wonder who he really was, you just kept defending his name in the student council every week — for example when the teachers made you guys gather in that tiny fucking classroom, room 9 because according to a few girls, he brought a gun to school. you obviously had to save your own classmate as much as you could, there was no way you would ever admit that this dude really did have that piece of black metal thrown into his bag. it had slipped between two books, crinkling them and making the corners slightly dark grey as it brushed against the pages.

the only reason you remembered that in so much detail was because he showed it to you. he was smiling like a kid in a candy store, raising his dark green school bag and unzipping it, showing you the gun that was in there. it was familiar, the knot in your stomach was always apparent whenever he talked about his weapons and the shooting club. you were nervous and scared of the whole thing, yet it felt nice when you guys were alone, out in the woods and he had his steady hand on top of your shaky one, your index finger trembling against the trigger as he whispered encouraging words into your ear.

but at school — you couldn’t just tell him ‘gosh, könig, what the fuck are you doing again?’ because who knows what kind of reaction that would get out of him, right?

the only reason he didn’t get kicked out of the school in that instant was because you somehow convinced the other student council members and the principal that he didn’t even think about bringing something like that to school. he didn’t have any reason to, he was a quiet kid and everyone knows that people like that can’t really cause any kind of harm to anyone, plus being part of a shooting club didn’t mean that they wanted to cause a shooting or hunt people down. you hoped they would take the bait and you had your fingers crossed under the table that he would get out of this whole situation with just a warning or two.

you still remember the night after that. it was so cold outside but fortuna still helped you out a little bit by making it at least dry outside. even though it wasn’t snowing nor raining, it still felt like you would have at least deserved an umbrella to save you from the rain of hushed apologies between desperate kisses. you tried letting him know how much trouble he got himself into but he always silenced you with his lips. they were warm against your purple and cold ones and they gave you some kind of comfort that you had been longing for.

“i’m sorry- i’m so sorry. f-fuck, i’m so..”

he whispered. his sounds were echoing in your head and you felt like you totally lost your common sense, it was like there was nothing in your head. all you could think about how much you wanted him to keep muttering those empty, yet honest-sounding apologies right into your ear. “i won’t do it again. i won’t, i just-“ könig really had the audacity to try to explain himself after all of this, but instead of finding an actual answer to all of your questions and concerns he just lowered himself even more to your level and he gently wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you closer.

“what are you wearing again..?” you asked quietly, not quite seeing what he had on in the darkness but the sound of cotton brushing against your thick winter jacket wasn’t lying to you. “you’re so stupid. you’re so dumb, könig, you’re going to get sick, and..”

“i know. i know, i know. i know i’m dumb.” he chanted against your skin. his tone was desperate and it was like he was fully aware of how fucking pathetic he was in that moment but he didn’t care. “i’m so stupid. i know.”

standing in front of the mirror after nights like that was always the worst feeling. the whole house was silent and dark, but you had every light flicked on in the bathroom and you kept examining every single rushed and faint little hickey he gave you. you rubbed some kind of cream over all of them, praying that they would disappear or at least lighten up even more overnight. if your mother knew what kind of things you were doing when you were out, she would have kicked you out in a heartbeat.

you couldn’t even deny it, even though you liked the way he made you finally feel alive after spending so many years just reading in bed at home, you felt used. he made a new painting of a dark red sunrise or a light purple sunset over your neck every time you met up with him, and it felt like he was doing nothing but putting the smallest band-aids on your broken bones — but you were rubbing and bandaging up his smallest little scratches with so much love.

and when you felt like you were finally getting a breath of fresh air, the next student council meeting came and he somehow never failed to cause yet another disappointment.

it was nighttime again and the only thing you could hear was the sound the snow made when you stepped on top of it. it was as fresh as it could get, it had just stopped snowing earlier that night and the whole city was painted with a thick, sickening and tiring layer of white. the forest was almost completely untouched, your footsteps were the only ones next to another thin trail made by someone with absolutely huge feet. you could have already guessed that it was könig that arrived earlier this time.

a few minutes later you were already walking beside him, both of your hands tucked into the pockets of your jacket. your fingers were freezing off even when you wore your warm, knit gloves. it was basically torture being out around this time and in this kind of weather, and if it wasn’t for könig, you would have never even thought of stepping your foot outside.

“you didn’t even do anything this week. as far as i know.” you mumbled as he was too silent. you had no idea what was up with him but whenever you were around he just simply wasn’t able to shut up, showing the complete opposite of what he was like in school. “what’s the deal with you calling me here then?”

silence.

“you missed that spot.”

“what?”

“behind your ear.”

“what are you talking ab-“

“i gave you a hickey behind your ear. two days ago. like, right here. and it was raining and you said that-“

you immediately tucked your hair behind your ear, rushing to run your hand over the wound on your skin, but you couldn’t really feel anything except for a small little roughness — signaling that there really was a hickey there. your heart started beating right in your throat, maybe that was why your mom didn’t want to speak with you at the dinner table last night. and that was why so many girls looked at you weirdly in the hallway. and it caused so many things, that stupid little hickey that-

“can i please suck on it again.”

it seemed like he wanted that to be a question, yet it sounded like a statement.

“excuse me?”

“please.”

the second he said ‘please’ he already had you pinned against a thick and dark tree, you were gasping as he obviously couldn’t just stop at that one little spot behind your ear. you saw your own breath fly away like it was smoke, and for the first time in your lifetime you wished that könig would give you one of his precious sticks of cheap rolled cigarettes. you have never smoked before, you had no idea how a lighter worked but you just craved something to make you feel alive again — because the way he was sucking your skin like a madman was now getting old once you realized why he was doing it. you were convinced that this whole thing was only to always get out of things in school.

while he was working his wonders around your neck, all you could think about was that how he could look you in the eyes like you were the prettiest creature, the most beautiful person ever on this whole world. his blue eyes could speak way more words than his lips could ever form, but the next second you already felt like you were some kind of tool he just used when he felt like he was in trouble.

“schatzi.”

he stopped for a second and pulled away from you. he had that goddman look in his eyes again. fuck.

“i’m leaving tomorrow, i’m already packed and things like that.”

“oh, are you going on vacation? where?”

“hm? no. i volunteered and i got accepted into the military.”

“what?”

“yeah.”

silence was the only thing that filled the air after that. he didn’t dare kiss you again or pepper your face with his soft and sloppy pecks once again. he kind of turned away from you, not daring to look you in the eye as your face displaying all kinds of emotions in the span of like five or six seconds. it was like everything went black for some time and the next thing you remember was that he clicked his almost empy, plastic lighter on.

könig gently pulled you closer to himself, placing the cigarette between his index and middle finger. he then softly placed it over your lips and you took a drag from that stupid little thing in his hands. what you were thinking about just a few minutes ago quite literally happened.

“are you even sad?”

“me..? m-m.” you shook your head gently, hanging it low so you couldn’t see anything but the white snow under your boots that were already soaked through.

you tried to act tough but your throat was closing up and your stomach was in knots. you felt like crying but you knew the tears would freeze onto your face, maybe even turn into snow dust or something silly like that. coldness ran through your body, despite being in your thick winter jacket. it was like you have been snapped in half and the only things you could get out of your mouth werre two short little gasps as you exhaled the smoke.

“yeah. good.” he mumbled.

—

i’m sorry if this one was a little shorter! i was quite tired after practice today but i still wanted to whip something up with this little idea i had. thank you for the support that i received on my other two oneshots and please feel free to share your ideas with me if you want me to write about something!!

also i hope i’m doing an okay job at writing about könig’s personality. i don’t want to make him into a huge baby like others do because i know that it’s far from reality (however sometimes that can be comforting too, i know!) and i’ve been trying to make it a tad realistic. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

thank you for everything and good night!

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #konig cod #könig modern warfare #könig cod #könig mw2 #könig x reader #könig call of duty #könig fanfiction #könig #könig x you #konig #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konig x reader #konig x you #konig modern warfare #oneshot #cod oneshot

[tainbocuailnge]

it's easy to dunk on people with poor reading comprehension or to look down on them (consciously or not) even if you're not actively shaming them for "not getting it" or "being stupid" but it's not actually helpful. it's a worrying development that many people (particularly many young people) are becoming resistant to the idea that complex and/or challenging books have value but it's also an understandable development, because in many cases it's a reaction to being shamed for their struggles with literacy and not given the help they would've needed to develop an adequate level of literacy.

that's not even going into what should even be considered an "adequate" level of literacy to begin with, because the truth is that a lot of people will simply never be able to read better than absolutely necessary to navigate their daily life, and this shouldn't be treated as some kind of failure on their part. the goal of literacy education should be to give people the tools for self-sufficiency.

what's worrying is not that there are a lot of people who don't engage with complex texts, but that there are a lot of people who refuse to believe that there is something to be gained from engaging with complex texts. someone doesn't have to read or understand shakespeare or kafka or what-have-you in order to live a fulfilling life, but when they become resistant to the idea that a text can have something going on beyond what's immediately apparent on the surface, they become easy targets for deception. this hinders the self-sufficiency that literacy is supposed to provide them with.

the goal of you high school language class is not just to get you to analyze texts, but to introduce you to the idea that texts can be analyzed in the first place, even if you don't go on to be particularly good at actually analyzing them yourself. you don't need to be able to read between the lines to understand that it is possible to read between the lines, and that therefore a text that seems nonsensical to you at first may simply be written for an audience of a different skill level - this is only a problem if there is a mismatch between the complexity of the text and the literacy of its target audience. an inability to read for subtext is not a personal failure, nor does the ability to read for subtext make you a better person than someone who can't. literacy is a skill, and like any skill there are people to whom it comes more easily than others.

calling people who are drawn to anti-intellectual rhetoric due to their struggles with literacy stupid is not going to encourage them to change their mind. developing media literacy and reading comprehension is something that is very difficult to do on your own, and doubly so if any attempt at trying to learn is met with derision for not already being able to do it. the problem is not people who only engage with easy texts, the problem is people growing hostile towards the idea that there is worth in engaging with more complex texts

if reading comprehension has always come naturally to you, it can be difficult to grasp how someone can fail to understand a text that you thought was easy enough to follow. I myself am guilty of snapping at people for misinterpreting me so wildly it seemed like they were doing it on purpose. you need to learn to suppress this kneejerk reaction, and instead see this frustration as common ground: you are both facing a situation where your communication skills are insufficient. what can you do to bridge this gap? how can you present this information in different ways that better suit how the other party processes information? keep in mind that this does not necessarily mean to simplify the information, because nobody likes being condescended to, and being condescended to is in many cases exactly what made these people hostile towards more complex ideas to begin with.

I don't have an easy solution, because this is a complex problem, and what helps some people will inevitably be useless to many others. but I believe fostering a culture where you won't be met with derision or ridicule for not understanding something or needing more explanation will go a long way. next time someone comments on your post with an absolutely baffling take that makes you wonder if they even read what you said, consider that maybe they are trying to engage with a text that is above their reading level, and they genuinely lack the ability to parse and retain the information you presented in the way you presented it. if you're going to respond, try to do so in good faith.

#anyway i love cuchulainn

[ellaenchanting]

WHAT IS MINDFULNESS VS HYPNOSIS ACCORDING TO ELLA ENCHANTING (haver of opinions)

One misconception that I often hear amongst hypnosis geeks is that "mindfulness" is basically a normie-safe word for "hypnosis"- that hypnosis and mindfulness practices are essentially the same thing.

This is a hard misconception to disprove- in fact, "hypnosis" and "mindfulness" are often defined really vaguely and in different ways by different people so- they could often very well be refering to the same thing!* I know when I first learned about mindfulness practices, I dismissed them as "just" repackaged hypnotherapy- something I already knew a lot about. However, in doing so, I was neglecting ideas that turned out to be a really useful self-improvement tools.

If you're of a similar mindset, drawing a distinction between the two may also be really helpful for you.

MINDFULNESS:

So, the end goal of mindfulness is learning a kind of grounded way to self reflect. It's a potentially really helpful skill for people who get caught in thought spirals** or overwhelming emotions. A big goal for people learning the skill is to be able to observe thoughts and emotions without entirely buying into them OR dismissing them. Let's say I have a train of thought that keeps looping in my head- I'm worried about something stupid I said yesterday at work, for example. Imagine that train of thought is an ACTUAL train- maybe a toy train running on a looped track. Normally, when you're having the work worries it's like you're on that thought train- riding it around and around in circles while you're getting increasingly anxious and kind of limiting yourself from doing other things. With mindfulness practice, the goal is to get you OFF the train- it's not gone, but you're kinda watching it from the sidelines instead of ON it. It's still happening but with a bit of distance you can see the thoughts more clearly and better take care of yourself while that thought track is running.

Another example- let's say I have a big feeling. I'm going to pick overwhelming shame***. In mindfulness practices, the goal is usually not to ignore the shame or entirely give into it but to be able to sit with it and understand it without DROWNING in it. So, in that state of mind, I might sit with the shame and kind of question why it's there and what it wants from me. I might find some kindness for myself as someone who is experiencing shame (which is harder to do when I'm more inside it). I might work to conceptualize the shame differently- what does it look like, what sounds does it make, etc. In that way, I'm paying attention to an emotion that might be helpful- but not overly giving into it.

If I were teaching someone mindfulness techniques, the goal there is for them to be able to use the techniques entirely on their own whenever they need to. I'm not really trying to overly influence or control what's happening for them- I'm keeping my language as permissive as possible and encouraging them to accept whatever comes up. "Notice what's there without feeling like you need to change it" is a common mindfulness instruction. The practice encourages curiosity and bravery in the face of the overwhelming STUFF of life.

HYPNOSIS:

There are lot of different ways people do and experience hypnosis- and I'm definitely not going to be able to address all of them here. But, at least in kink, my goal in hypnotizing someone is to directly influence their thoughts. In fact, when I'm hypnotizing someone, a lot of my "induction" is convincing someone that I'm already in their head- that they're responding automatically to my suggestions. There's the kinky control fun of that and also the mutual shared feeling of intimacy- we're so close we could be one. (Or, in more D/s-ey terms, we're so close that now you are an extension of me!) In 101 classes you'll learn about the pacing and leading technique- basically matching your subject's experience and then taking them a step further. (Ex. You're reading my words and focusing on the screen and that reminds you to take a deep breath NOW.)

Explaining it by cold control hypnosis theory****, during an induction I'm helping someone kind of flip OFF their awareness of their agency- creating the illusion that things are happening internally because I'm MAKING them happen (and disguising the part where they're in complete control of their actions).

Especially in kink, what we're doing in hypnosis play is often a really conscious power exchange. You're giving me power over your thoughts because you want me to have it. I direct them where I want them to go and away from where I don't want them to be (ex. the actual reason why you're relaxing is, in part, because that's a natural thing that happens for most people when they close their eyes for more than a few seconds). (That's an excellent babysitting/parenting pro tip from me to you btw.) It's not that subjects aren't actively contributing their own images/ideas/metaphors/desires to the suggestions and play (really often they are!) but usually their whole goal is to be directed.

Even in hypnotherapy, that directedness and control is implied. You're not coming on (nearly) as strong as you would in kink, but your goal there is usually more in direction (with teaching self hypnosis techniques as an added bonus).

Sometimes the hypnosis and mindfulness methodologies can be incredibly similar with really subtle differences! For example, I might start a mindfulness-teaching body scan in the same way that I might start a progressive muscle relaxation induction- "Go ahead and get into a comfortable position and close your eyes". But continuing with the hypnosis induction, I'll usually be more directive ("Notice your feet. As you're noticing them, imagine sending a wave of relaxation down to your toes.") whereas with the body scan I'll be more exploratory. ("Notice your feet. What do they feel like? Are they hot or cold? Do they want to move or stay still? Whatever is happening for them right now is fine- just notice them") The pmr induction is intended to move someone into a suggestible state, the body scan is intended to teach someone a particular mindset and focusing skill they can use later. *****

Like I stated before, things that I consider "hypnosis" ideas and techniques and "mindfulness" ideas and techniques get mixed up all the time- with both lay folks and the actual professionals who teach them. There's a lot of surface similarities. "Mindfulness" has become such a therapy and corporate buzzword that it often DOES become synonymous with things like guided relaxation. Both concepts are vague enough that there's a lot of things that can easily be either/or- I'm thinking self hypnosis specifically here******. But- I hope if you're curious about mindfulness at all, you'll find this explanation useful and will maybe go out and explore some helpful resources for yourself.

Good mindfulness 101 books:

Full Catastrophe Living- Jon Kabat Zinn

The Mindful Way Through Depression- J. Mark G Williams et all

Just an FYI here at the bottom- like all self-help techniques, mindfulness stuff can be extremely helpful to some and not at all helpful to others. If it hasn't been personally helpful to you that's fine! I hope you've found some other things that are. Also, you can feel free to take my self help advice just as seriously as you would of any other kinky fetish blogger. :p I'm not your therapist, feel free to check in with them about things that might help you.

*I think people expanding the definition and ideas around both of these can be really helpful, in fact!

**Of the not-fun kind

***You know, like I normally do

****One of many hypnosis theories! And often not the best one for kink! If hypnosis doesn't feel like this for you, that's perfectly ok!

*****OK, in actuality both probably do both things! But the emphasis is different.

******A big difference in my mind- if you discover pain or discomfort, hypnosis-style techniques are usually directing you away from that while mindfulness-style techniques are usually directing you towards curiousity about those things.

#mindfulness #hypnosis #hot takes #I'm a bit pedantic on this one #but that’s because I think mindfuless can truly be helpful #just takes some practice to learn #curious to hear any thoughts people have!

[mrsriddlenott]

Rivalry: Chapter One

[masterlist][Ch2]

Regulus Black x Fem!reader

Mutual Pining and Academic Rivals are like my favorites so I’m throwing them together for Reggie🤭

I wanna try a slowburn, so this series will have some short parts that i can update easily between parts of Caught because I hate just not uploading for so long at a time. Fair warning I am going to include a bit of a love triangle later on(there will be NO cheating).

Warnings:Arguing,Language,Angst, Pining, Rivals, “Enemies” to lovers.

You and Regulus never liked each other. Actually, a good way to put it would be to say you hated eachother. But for some reason you were always clouding the brunette’s mind, even when you were yelling back and forth in an empty corridor he absolutely loved it. And despised that he loved it.

Despite the years he spent wanting nothing more than to one up you in any situation, suddenly every time your eyebrows furrowed at him as you began an argument, he’d imagine those eyebrows furrowing below him behind the curtains of his four poster bed. He thought at first it was simply because of your beauty that he was lusting after you, but after months of patrolling the corridors together as Prefects, he came to realize he genuinely liked your presence. Whether you were silent or bickering or yelling, he didn’t mind.

He denied those feelings for as long as possible, deciding instead to observe you from afar, acting as though he hated you while at the same time ensuring you were stuck with him as a partner in every class and during all Prefect duties. He didn’t understand why he shooed away every thought of you or hid his true feelings up until the last possible second, but he was a fool and a coward, he already knew that. As your seventh and final year at Hogwarts began, it dawned on Regulus that he’d likely never see you again once the year ended, making the dreadfully long school year suddenly seem far too short.

He could no longer deny he felt something real for you as he stood in the corner of the Slytherin common room, seething while he watched you dance against Barty Crouch Jr. The welcome back party was in full swing as you enjoyed yourself before you inevitably needed to become an image of responsibility.

You could feel his eyes on you, you could always feel his eyes on you. Almost immediately after you and Regulus became Prefects in your fifth year, it became increasingly difficult to avoid spending time with him. Though secretly you weren’t complaining, you’d always imagine what it would be like if he wasn’t so closed off. He was down right mean to you at times, and yet he clouded your thoughts all the same.

You always found yourself locking eyes with him in class, cursing yourself as you rolled your eyes away from his. You hated that you felt the way you did, but honestly you hated that he didn’t feel the same much more. This time, as your eyes locked, there was something new behind his irises. Something you never would have expected only two years earlier, jealousy.

You knew it couldn’t be a good idea, but after plying yourself with copious amounts of liquor you didn’t mind making a few bad decisions. You winked at Regulus’, biting your lip and making him go rigged in the corner before you turned yourself in Barty’s arms and captured his lips in yours.

Regulus wasn’t a jealous person, he’d accepted long ago that any girl wanting a member of the Noble House of Black would simply run to his brother, but you never did. You never even seemed the tiniest bit interested in Sirius, or anyone else for that matter. Maybe thats why it was so easy to stay calm all these years, his girl never seemed to have eyes for anyone. Until now. He never would have imagined the pure rage he felt as he stormed through the party, yanking you off Barty as you smiled drunkenly up at him with swollen lips.

“Come on, we have a project in Potions tomorrow and you can’t be hungover, I won’t be failing,” Before you could register what was happening he was pulling you down the stairs as you stumbled after him to the girls dormitory. To your surprise he immediately distinguished your dorm from the others and pulled you inside.

He dropped your wrist as he grumbled to himself, walking to your dresser and pulling out one of your oversized t-shirts and a pair of leggings, “Take these, get out of that dress, and go to bed.” He demanded in a stern voice.

“But I wanna go back to the partyyy” You practically whined in a beg, too drunk to care about the boy standing in your room with a glare.

“You can barely stand y/l/n, I am not letting you back into that party like this.” He grumbled as he shoved the clothes into your hands, turning away as you eyed the back of his head.

“Come on Reggie, let lose, you don’t always have to be the golden boy,” You teased as you began to remove the straps of your dress and shimmy it down your body.

“What did you just call me?” He snapped, turning around without thinking, his cheeks growing a bright red upon seeing your slightly exposed bra as you struggled to remove your dress in your drunken state. He quickly swiveled back around as you huffed and puffed with slurred statements of “stupid thing” and “tight ass dress” making him chuckle.

“Help me out here Reggie,” You sighed, dropping your hands to your sides with a slap as he arched his eyebrows at the wall in front if him, turning to see your dress halfway down your body as you stared up at him with hooded eyes.

“Um okay,” He mumbled as he moved to stand behind you, keeping his eyes upward as he gently pulled the zipper down with a soft chuckle, “It would be a lot easier if you unzipped it,”

“Yeah yeah,” You grumbled as you pushed the dress off of you without a warning, showing him your underwear that didn’t match your bra. He felt like all the oxygen was escaping his body as he watched you struggle to put on the shirt he picked out, your head popping out of the neckline with messy hair before you were hopping onto your bed, disregarding the leggings on the floor.

You yawned once, and then fell into a deep sleep as Regulus stood, shell shocked in front of your bed. For some reason he felt rather creepy being alone in your room hovering over your bed despite his very wholesome intentions. He neatly closed the curtains around your four poster and left a full glass of water on your bedside table before blowing out your candles and slipping out the door.

The next morning when you woke, you had absolutely no clue how you got to your room, or out of your clothes and into knew ones. The last thing you could remember clearly was getting your sixth, or maybe seventh?, cup of punch before dancing with Barty.

“Uh Black, can we talk?” You asked in a shaky voice as his friends eyed you up suspiciously, “It’s really important,” As Regulus took in your disheveled appearance and worried face he mumbled a later to his friends and directed you to a rather quiet section of the corridor before turning back to you.

“Did we….y’know….do anything last night?” You rushed out without meeting his eyes as you stood in front of him, bouncing nervously. “I just….I barely remember anything and….and Barty said….” You stopped, not wanting to believe nor accuse him of what Barty had suspected.

“You think I did something to you while you were drunk?” He asked in a soft voice as he watched your watery eyes meet his. He was hurt, for the first time in a long time he was hurt. “I didn’t. I helped you to bed, got you some water, and left. That’s it.”

You let out an audible sigh as tears slipped past your lashes, “Thank you, I-i was so messed up last night, I don’t wanna think about what could have happened if…” Regulus watched you with a mix of relief and annoyance, you had just almost accused him of the same thing you were now thanking him for preventing?

“You’re lucky y/l/n. Because guess what, Barty was the one all over you last night when you could barely walk properly, I’m sure he jumped to tell you how I pulled you away from him. You could have just come to me, y’know.” He scoffed as he walked past you and into Potions class taking the seat next to yours as you followed suit.

“I didn’t believe him Black, but I had to ask okay?” You whisper shouted as everyone began taking their seats around you.

“If you had to ask than part of you thought I was capable of that.” He said, eyes focused upfront as you watched the side of his face. His jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle protruding on the side of his cheeks.

“I’m sorry Regulus, you may be a git sometimes but I don’t think you’re a monster.” You whispered as you pushed your chair closer to his.

“I don’t care what you think of me and I dont need your apology” He snapped, making you flinch and jump back as he turned to look at you. His eyes softened as regret began seeping into his stomach at the sight of you scared in front of him.

You looked away from him as soon as you felt your eyes begin to water, focusing solely on Professor Slughorn as Regulus tried to apologize beside you, something that shocked you greatly but didn’t make you waver.

“Just look at me,” He whispered, ignoring his notes entirely and looking only at you. “Come on, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare y-“

“Oh my gods just shut the fuck up!” You shouted, silencing Slughorn and drawing the attention of every student around you as you went red from embarrassment.

“Care to fill us in on your conversation Miss. y/l/n? Mr. Black?” Slughorn’s voice was calm bit stern as you both shook your heads and mumbled “no”.

“Well, you can pick it up in detention tonight then” He said with a tight lipped smile as he turned back to his notes on the blackboard. You dropped your forehead onto the table with a sigh as Regulus watched you with narrowed eyes.

After dinner you slipped out of the Great Hall undetected, fully intending to run to the library and “study” through your detention. Being a teacher’s pet came with some perks after all.

“I knew you’d be here,” Regulus chuckled as you approached the door he was now leant against. “Come on, we have detention little miss perfect….or did you intentionally plan to avoid me?” His smirk was so annoying you would risk another detention just to smack it off if it weren’t for your lack of any movable muscle as his eyes bore into yours.

“Slughorn wants us to clean Professor Binns’ class since he never does.” You eyed him suspiciously as he waited for you to walk in front of him, “Well go on then you little liar, can’t trust ya now can I?” He chuckled triumphantly at your eyes rolling as you walked past him towards the History of Magic classroom.

Regulus shamelessly watched you as you walked in front of him, deciding you were his whether you realized it yet or not. He’s never had a reason to defy anyone before, but as he watched your hair bouncing behind you and your cloak moving in the breeze giving him glimpses of your legs below. He knew you were the girl he’d marry, whether his Mother was okay with it or not, he’d either die alone or marry the beautiful girl in front of him.

~~~~

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[caramel-maveeato]

ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴋᴇᴜᴘ ♡˚₊。。。

❧❤ SYNOPSIS: something felt very unsettled with you today, and it shattered So Mun just from thinking of the possibilities… ♡ Pairings/Love interest: So Mun x Fem!reader ♡ Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, happy ending ♡ TW: suggestive, mentions of cheating, cursing, detailed kissing descriptions, crying, sexual tension but no you two aint gon do the deed, post-ss2 ♡ Word count: 5.1k

Note: All characters originated from “The Uncanny Counter/Amazing Rumor” except for Y/n. (Sorry mom and dad because instead of paying attention during lectures, I wrote this lil silly fic about a man who doesn’t even exist)

English is not my first language!!! Sorry in advance if I make any grammar and vocabulary mistakes.

Apart from all the evils hunting, So Mun couldn’t recall the last time he had been this anxious. 

Normally, he never held anything against you hanging out with your guy friends. He knew you also have your personal space and it wasn’t necessarily like your entire world needed to revolve around him.  

So Mun trusts you with his own life, he really does. He never once doubted your love for him. But today, something was horribly off.

“Isn’t that Gwan Daehyun from my class?” 

Juyeon habitually pushed her glasses up, vocalizing her thoughts to the friend group. Both Woongmin and So Mun raised their heads at the comment, turning toward the large window.  

“Gwan Daehyun,” or whoever, was a tall and slender-built young man about his age—he presumed. Judging from his figure and his dashing fashion sense, anyone would instantly conclude he was a big catch. But that wasn’t what caught So Mun’s attention the most.  

The man passed by the glass window. Next to him was you, linking arms with him and smiling so cheerfully. 

Even though So Mun wouldn’t admit that something has unpleasantly risen up deep inside his heart upon seeing you being so close to another guy, you were always acting so intimate with him in your relationship, so it was understandable that physical affection was rather a normal way of communicating with you. 

He heard Woongmin’s voice chimming in next to his ear, snapping him out of the trance: “Is that… I’m seeing Y/n, right? Are they friends?” 

“What kind of question is that? If not friends then what are they?” Juyeon cut him off, carefully stealing a glance at So Mun to see if he had any reaction. 

“It was just common sense to ask!”

“Uh-huh, common sense.”

“Hey, what’s with that tone–”

“Guys, we’re in the middle of a cafe, enough with your lover’s quarrel.” A faint smile flashed across So Mun’s face as he tapped his pencil down on the table, trying to get his friends’ attention. He didn’t really care how many friends you have, but seeing such joy radiating from you, he couldn’t help but be curious to know about the man’s identity: “Gwan Daehyun is your classmate?”

Juyeon responded nonchalantly: “In chemistry, but we almost never talked. How did Y/n and he even know each other?”

The typical “I don’t know” hasn’t even slipped out of his mouth, Woongmin was quick to toss him another question: “She didn’t tell you about this?”

So Mun wasn’t quite certain “this” referred to you telling him about the guy specifically or about this entire thing, but he chose to say what felt the most natural: “About hanging out with a friend today? She did.”

His two best friends nodded at the same time, exchanging a subtle look at each other which So Mun was completely unaware of. His concentration was taped on you the entire time, following you as your silhouette slowly melted into the distance. He returned to his sketchbook, throwing all running thoughts behind his head for now. 

This was when it should’ve stopped bothering him. Or he would say, it didn’t actually bother him in the first place. 

Not until he saw what was on your neck. 

At first glance, he confidently supposed it was a mosquito bite. But again, he knew what a mosquito bite looked like, and he even knew better what a hickey looked like on your skin.

On the side of your neck laid a small, reddish stain. As much as he tried to deny the truth flattening in front of him and convinced himself that it was a love bite he'd forgotten he left on you, So Mun knew damn well all the places on your body that he had been marking on, and none of them displayed in such a conspicuous spot. 

Or maybe you just carelessly bumped into something and bruised yourself, or maybe you got burned while using a hair straightener… Yeah, that was probably the reason. He knew you loved him, adored him, even. So why would you ever do such an awful thing behind his back?

“Hey, Y/n.”

You blinked, catching him staring at you from the opposite side of the table with a soft smile: “Hm?”

“How was your day today, I mean, hanging out with your friend?” He asked to start a conversation, already predicting your reply to be positive since the image of you laughing so happily with another man was still imprinted in his mind. 

You smiled in return, acting as casual as possible: “It was pretty nice. We went to get coffee and took pictures and just… you know, the classic friend thing.” 

“Yeah….” He nodded, awkwardness flooded his lungs that it was nearly hard to breathe. As much as he wanted to ask you about the bruise, he was afraid of receiving the answer. What if you think he didn’t trust you?

You gulped and looked down, unintentionally exposing your nervousness. In So Mun’s perspective, you were apparently hiding something from him. He aimed at the bruise again, fighting to conceal how his pupils started burning more and more fiercely on your skin the more he studied it. He hated to jump to conclusions so soon and accuse you of committing something you didn’t do. He knew you loved him. He was fucking sure you loved him. 

Then why did you have to hide it? 

His body ran cold from the way you adjusted your position to excuse yourself, uneasiness enveloped your face when you realized his eyes were fixed on your neck. So Mun watched as his precious placed her elbow down the table with her palm on her cheek, awkwardly building up a cover between his gaze and the love bite that was carved by anyone but him. 

Suddenly, So Mun was launched back to today’s morning, into your warm embrace. You clasped him in a goodbye hug before you both parted ways, whispering an “I love you” like you’ve always done in his ear while he tucked himself into your comfort. You did not have that mark on your neck. 

And now it happened to be a claret, hickey-like stain engraved on you in such a perfect place for an actual hickey to occur, circumstantially right after he caught you hinging arms with a man he’s never seen or heard you talk about. 

Everything crashed. His senses crumpled and his stomach twisted in such a way that he felt physically nauseous.

“What’s that on your neck?” 

Words glided out without thinking. There was no point in hesitating anymore, he just needed to listen to your voice confronting him that he had completely misunderstood the situation, that it was only a discoloration you got by accident, that whatever he was assuming was only an illusion coating his mind. 

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

Your movement stiffened, not too detectable yet, at the same time, not unnoticeable enough to escape his focused stare. Just this small motion of yours was enough to deliver a slap across his face. 

The corners of his lips lifted with no strength, not even sure if it looked convincing to you. He had no clue how to react. It wasn’t like he ever imagined you cheating on him, let alone preparing to face it: “Ah… I see.” 

On your side, you weren’t any better. The forced and bitter smile on his face seized your guts, pouring immense shame down your head. God, you regret the whole thing already. 

“Baby, do you want some water? I’m kinda thirsty.” 

You said, clinging onto the very last piece of your cognition and trying to lighten the mood. The effort went pointless unequivocally as there fell a small pause between you two. So Mun slowly shook his head, silent. 

“Okay, I… I’ll be back in just a min.”

Getting up to your feet, you wanted nothing more than to sprint to the kitchen and take two glasses of water, no matter if So Mun already refused it. Maybe after a breather and something to soothe your dry throat, the clotted mood would soften and that’s when you could disclose the truth to him. 

Waiting no time for you to take another step, a strong grip tied to your wrist as soon as you stood up, condensed around your skin like cement. You quickly saw darkness towering over your vision as an incredible softness sank onto your lips. 

You froze like a deer in headlights, tackled by the submerging desire when a pair of hands snuck around your waist and your mouth was captured securely, almost leaving no room for a muffled gasp to be heard. So Mun’s eyes fastened into yours before he shut them closed, engulfing your lips through the hunger enraging inside himself once your arms had mutually snaked around his neck. 

So Mun was the personification of “loving” when it came to you. Regardless of how needy he was during your make-out sessions, he always put you as his priority and ensured not to overwhelm you with his rising passion. But at this specific moment, you were dazed by his sudden blast of enthusiasm, though your bewilderment was quick to dissolve into pure fever when he drew his tongue along your bottom lip just as skillful as the artist he was, fondling your flesh between his teeth before alighting his mouth onto yours again. 

Your fingers automatically crimped around his hair, gently tugging his curls in a way you knew he could never get enough of. Your little gesture welcomed a quiet groan from your boyfriend, spawning a tightened grasp on your hips. You didn’t recognize how steamy the kiss had progressed until your back collided with the wall.

The room drowned in your intimate noises. His hand’s location switched from your hip to your chin as he nailed you to the hard surface, angling his digits along your jawline. He feasted on your unorganized breathing, eagerly knocking your lips apart with his own like you were a sumptuous banquet. His sweetness erupted through every smallest gap inside your mouth. Your knees turned wobbly while you gripped onto him to keep your balance, panting and whining for mercy since you were practically devoured for what felt like eternity.

You didn’t mind if So Mun might have misinterpreted your “thirsty” for something else but its literal meaning. He was feeding you full. However, the boiling-hot tension was impotent to replace the previous alarm between you two, now adding to the baffling foreboding you secretly felt. 

Colors flowered chaotically through your closed eyelids. No way you could push him away despite your remained oxygen was already sucked dry. As much as you cherished how intoxicating making out with So Mun was, you were beyond relieved when he finally pulled back and showed your strained mouth some pity. 

Your heart bolted madly inside your chest, both exhilarated and puzzled due to the unforeseen shift of sensation. Both of you chased after your jumbled breaths. So Mun supported your balance with his fingers dug into your waist and let you lean against the wall, still silent. 

A coat of haze smeared over your eyesight after the kiss, you weren’t able to see his face clearly from this angle. But just shortly after, you heard him speak again, barely louder than a mumble: “Love…” 

The familiar term of endearment dripped into your ear, carrying a hint of unusual raspiness. So Mun’s voice was as longing as a prayer pleading for his most revered goddess, yet suffocated in boundless desperation and anguish that made your head numb just from hearing it. 

“Did I… I definitely did something wrong, didn’t I?”

Time stopped. 

Something inside your gut ripped apart, tearing down every single bit that made of you as the eeriness and repentance needled through your bones. 

You saw clouds in his reddened eyes. All So Mun needed to do was blink once and the tears would flood down his cheeks uncontrollably. 

Your roaring heartbeat echoed in your head at the sight of his dark coffee irises, now a hollow void of fog and aggrivement. Your voice splintered in your throat as So Mun grabbed your hands and swaddled them in his own, his slightly calloused hands trembling against your skin: “What did I do wrong? Please tell me, love… Tell me everything you dislike about me, I promise I will change.”

Knowing how good-at-heart you were as a person, there wouldn’t be a chance of you going around and dating different men. That being said, maybe he was the reason you let go of him.

And there it was. The look on his face looked exactly like that one of betrayal when he discovered the murder of his parents two years ago. The only difference was that he didn’t seem to be upset at you, he was upset at himself for failing you, for even allowing a thought of leaving to cross your mind.

This was a look you would rather let twenty knives riddle through your organs than ever see in your life. And now you were the one who caused it. 

You didn’t dare to move. Your veins twinged and screamed and begged for his forgiveness but no sound was brave enough to emerge at the moment. You watched as he pressed his face onto your shoulder, dampening that specific part of your shirt despite his effort to bite back from breaking down.

You stuttered, not yet realizing yourself was on the verge of tears as well: “No, baby, it’s—”

So Mun scanned the purplish hue obscuring itself under your hair and the dim light in the room, resentment swelling behind his chest as he choked back a muffled cry: “Am I not good enough? Is it my personality or the way I look? Did I mess up so badly that… you went for someone else?”

“No! No, it’s not like that. You did nothing wrong!” You hurriedly brushed your fingers over his cheekbones, guiding his face to yours as your vision shielded with unshed mist. His hot tears blurred his own skin, somehow felt dreadfully cold and painful when it hit your touch. 

He hesitated, confused and unconvinced: “If not me, then— Why did you…?”

“It was me, love! I was so stupid. I should’ve known…” You hated yourself for coming up with the plan in the first place. Why didn’t you consider the consequences before starting it? That it could hurt him this terribly thinking you broke his faith?

In front of his stunned eyes, the tip of your fingers aggressively rubbed against that so-called “hickey,” each stroke smudging blush powder and eyeshadow all over your digits.

One week ago, 1 p.m., at the crime scene in Eonni’s noodle shop.

“What do you mean you dunno? He never got jealous before?!”

You quietly hissed at Juyeon, whose voice was almost too loud it scared a customer at the next table: “What’s so surprising about it? Does he look like the type to get jealous easily?”

You and the girl were chatting about whatever you could think of to kill time while waiting for So Mun to finish his last minutes of individual training. As luck would have it, you stumbled across the topic of relationships, and it eventually centered on your one and only beloved. 

Woongmin looked up from Junhui’s colorful drawings, looking you dead in the eye: “Not gonna lie, he kind of does.”

“Don’t eavesdrop on us, turn away!” The short-haired girl gestured her hand at her boyfriend, making him roll his eyes with sass and unwillingly obey her command. She turned back to you, lowering her voice this time: “It’s not about looks, but I refuse to believe he doesn’t get jealous at all.” 

You tilted your head, thoughtlessly stealing a sip of her latte: “Um-hm…”

“Seriously, you were never curious about it?” 

You shrugged. You got where Juyeon was coming from. Woongmin’s possessiveness thrived pretty easily to begin with (evidently canon from how sulky he became when she complimented a sketch of your enemy Hwang Pilkwang), and it was always so entertaining to see.

You might’ve or might’ve not wondered what kind of expression your man would show when he got jealous, but well, the idea itself was somehow very fascinating. 

The only time you’ve witnessed him show the slightest hint of protectiveness besides the counter-thing was when a customer asked for your phone number—where he would observe your reaction with a sharp glare at the said person, then smirk proudly when you turned the offer down. Still, as two grim reapers, you stuck to each other like glue almost 24/7—ranging from missions and serving to something as simple as eating and walking, not to mention the countless times you have woken up beside each other. Putting it plainly into words, you had no “private life” for jealousy to evolve.

Hearing your explanation (in which you already altered the “grim reaper” part), Juyeon flashed you a hilariously serious look, for some reason very invested in solving your problem: “That makes sense. So do you want me to help you?” 

You sighed: “I… think?”

“No worries girl, I got you.” She thoughtfully gave you a wink, opening TikTok on her phone as she scrolled down numerous videos, stopping at one to show you: “I was thinking... this. What do you think about a hickey prank?” 

An old-fashioned trick to mess with your significant other, yet always seemed to be effective. You stared at the scene unfolding between two lovers, battling in your mind whether or not you should give it a try: “You have a point, but I doubt he’d believe it. We see each other every day.” 

“Well, all you need to do is pretend to hang out with some guy and come back with a fake hickey.” 

“Damn, that’s genius.” Woongmin’s voice joined you two from afar, one more time getting Juyeon to threaten him with her razor-sharp look. 

“Where am I supposed to find a guy, anyway? My few guy friends either rot away in their schools or aren’t even in the country.” You chuckled at their couple-ly bicker. Speaking of the truth, you found yourself a bit thrilled at the suggestion. You would love to see how adorably pouty So Mun became when he turned possessive. 

Juyeon fancily sipped her coffee: “I know someone who can help. Two days ago, a uni friend of mine coincidentally complained about how badly he wanted to get a reaction out of his black-cat partner who never gets jealous. I guess you both can do each other a favor.”

The plan developed so smoothly. You absolutely could not expect to regret your whole existence just because you surrendered to the heat of the moment: “For real?”

Earning a firm nod from Juyeon, who then gave you her friend’s phone number to further discuss the prank, you mindlessly let yourself loose into the urge. You’ve read somewhere that jealousy can prompt both parties of a romantic relationship to stay connected, which is a good thing. It’s just a small, harmless prank, right? Nothing could go wrong, right?

“We should’ve talked about this during girls’ night, maybe you could pull this prank on Woongmin, too.”

“I can hear you, y’know.”

Pure silence detonated when your explanation died down.

A sour feeling crawled up your body in monstrous shamefulness. You warily waited for his reaction upon finding out he just got caught up in a hurtful prank. 

“So… the whole thing was… a joke?” A rather wounding joke, to be exact. You held your breath and raised your stained fingers up, carefully analyzing his tone while choosing your own response: “Yeah, this hickey is makeup, as you can see.”

“Right…” Based on how long a pause lingered in each sentence, you could tell he was having a hard time gathering his thoughts together. ‘Lost as hell’ would be an understatement: “...and Gwan Daehyun is just Juyeon’s classmate, he doesn’t have anything to do with you?”

“No, he doesn’t. We have nothing to do with each other.” You answered: “We only met up for the first time today through… uh, yeah.” 

He exhaled agitatedly, muttering in disbelief: “And Juyeon told me she had never talked to him before. That sneaky…”

It was nearly ridiculous to think about where the situation was at the moment. If minutes ago you both were strangled by the thickened bitterness of your own reasons, now the entire ambience has reshaped into an awkward one. Confronted by quietness, you gulped, instinctively feeling like you didn’t really have the right to say these words anymore: “Plus… I would never cheat on you.”

Speechlessness floated like ashes in between you and him. 

In reality, the stiffened air only lasted a few seconds, you were nonetheless certain it felt like hours. So Mun blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the left-over dried tears steamed up over his view. He eventually let out a sigh, mumbling under his breath: “Y/n, you’re… impossible.”

You lowered your head, unable to make eye contact with him: “...I’m sorry.”

“”Sorry” won’t do it.” A scoff vaguely arrived from his direction, embedding in a hint of disappointment and irritation as he wiped the dewed corner of his eye one last time: “I really was convinced you’re bored of me already.” 

You clenched your mouth shut, guilt swallowed your voice.

“You know what else you have to do so I’ll forgive you?”

Although the seriousness hasn’t faltered, you wondered whether or not you were delusional out of the blue because you swore he didn’t sound that serious anymore. Your gaze shot up at him, then looked down again and shook your head when you noticed his expression hadn't lightened up.

“You don’t? I think you do.” His warm hand swept across the side of your face, lifting your chin up. You were greeted by a light raise of So Mun’s eyebrows while he airily tapped on his lips with a casual, yet cunning twinkle in his pupils.

Dumbfounded, you delayed for a second to make sure you weren’t fooled by some kind of hallucination, cautiously examining the implication he just dropped as well as his blooming smile: “You… You’re not mad at me?”

“Oh trust me, I am still very pissed off. But you know I can’t full-on stay mad at you.” So Mun shrugged, booping your nose: “Not when you’re this pouty.” 

The burn behind his eyes had stopped being torturous a moment ago, yet you still felt like a criminal knowing you had created such an unpleasant tint on his scleras. You murmured: “The pouty one was primarily predicted to be you.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.” 

As if your internal self-reproach were audible, he swooped you into his chest, holding you while half-heartedly scolding you: “Just don’t pull these types of pranks on me again. Okay? One more time and I swear, I’m sleeping with Jeokbong-hyung forever.” 

“Yes, I’m really sorry. I didn’t expect it to go this far.” Your arms enclosed him instantly as though they were customized to do so. You nodded against his shoulder, trying to contain a smile when his melodious chuckle filled your ear: “But the sleeping part is up to you. Bunk beds seem pretty cozy.” 

So Mun rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing your cheek between his index finger and thumb: “Is that how you apologize for making your boyfriend cry?”

You cracked up, words unclear by the stretch on your face: “Oh, I’m sorry!”

Laughter echoed through the closed room, which you both preferred this way so much better than the previous heavy and wrenching atmosphere. So Mun nuzzled his nose against yours, whispering flirtatiously: “So what now? Gotta let me forgive you or you’re good?” 

“No I’m not good, so please forgive me.” Heat bursting underneath your skin, tinging a shade of rosiness. You grinned and whispered before tugging blithely on the neckline of his T-shirt. His lips instantly fit onto yours just as perfectly as a puzzle piece. 

A butterfly-like peck expectedly flourished into a hot mess. So Mun’s curls spilled between your fingers, trusting him to perform his magic on you. His scent ghosted your face, sending friction straight up to your mind while your mouth was accompanied by his bewitching wetness, claiming your mouth with impatience to make up for every drop of tears that had rolled off earlier. 

Your body felt weightless when he lifted you off your feet, turning you away from the wall and pushing you to a surface that was much more doughy. Goosebumps enhanced down your body when the soft mattress of your own bed scratched against your back, manipulating a gasp to flee from your throat although the touch was hardly through a layer of fabric, evincing how awfully vulnerable you were in this position. 

Responding to your tiny whimper, So Mun’s chuckle vibrated against your lips. He situated himself between your legs, pinning you flat on the bed and greedily nipping on your bottom lip to get the most reaction out of you. Your delicate flesh laid defenselessly against every stroke and skim of his tongue. It was no argument that he took pride in seeing you so worked up for his affection, and he wasn’t planning to stop until your pantings had stirred into one.  

Your boyfriend only detached his face from yours after a while, beaming happily like it was Christmas morning at the sight of your lips glossy with his essence.

So Mun was one hell of a good kisser in contrast to his innocent face. He knew exactly when to be sugary and when to be spicy. After melting your brain to mud with his hypnotizing techniques, he placed a tender kiss on your cheek, lingering his pinkened lips over the warmth of your skin. He sweetly moved down to your jaw, then your chin as you dreamily threw your head back against the bed sheets.  

His gaze fell onto the feeble “love mark” that had virtually faded away by your vigorous smudging, grinning to himself: “You know, if you wanted to show off a hickey right here, you could’ve just asked me to leave a real one on you.”

You giggled with a slightly hoarse voice, cheeks flushing brighter when he stroked his thumb over the spot, encircling the last remaining makeup stain in a gentle yet teasing manner: “I do love to have one there. But imagine all the teasing we're gonna get when the team finds out…” 

“Understandable.” His stare at the fake hickey was no longer flaming with hatred, instead full of hilarity. Leaning downward, So Mun’s curly hair tickled the place under your chin and the heat of his breath fanned your skin. But you were too distracted by another sensation—a delicious softness printing on your neck—to notice it: “I just… still can’t believe it. You want to see me get jealous that bad?”

Your source of air was cut halfway and you closed your eyes in delight. (We all know) You do. Maybe you were too much of a coward to confess but the man in front of you always looked so fucking hot when he was mad: “I mean… I’m just curious?” 

“Good to know. The next time I see someone flirt with you, I’m gonna beat them up.” Mellow kisses gathered around the makeup stain. So Mun closely examined the way your body trembled underneath him while open-mouthed kisses were planted along the line of your neck, testing the waters and looking for your approval. 

This earned a small giggle from you. You brought a hand up to the back of his head, your digits massaging his scalp as you indirectly turned the green light on at whatever he had in store for you: “Yung is gonna beat you up, my dear.” 

“Oh, Yung can’t do anything to me. I’m the pillar and the Ace, remember?” 

You smiled, about to say something before your thoughts were heavily interrupted by a raid of affection on your flesh, right where the fake hickey originally occupied. But this time, it was no longer “fake.” You thanked your lucky star for suppressing your voice on time because only God knows what kind of unholy sound you’d make at the sudden pleasure. 

Exhaling a deep sigh, you were barely able to hide the shakiness in your voice as So Mun dragged his lips over your neck, painting your skin with a lovely shade of red through his teeth: “More like you and your cocky ass…” 

He laughed: “Yeah, me and my cocky ass, any complaints, baby?”  

His hands gently pressed your shoulders, positioning you firmly against the mattress. Every suck and nibble was followed by a trail of kisses admiring your skin. You could almost feel his marks starting to blossom each time he separated his mouth from your flushed flesh, watching it bounce back with a glowing shine.

You gulped unconsciously on behalf of him pulling the collar of your shirt aside, revealing more of your hidden collarbones for what was about to come next: “...No complaints.” 

Screw it. Maybe you should just let the team tease you however they want later. 

The edges of his lips raised in a satisfied smile, one that never failed to hook you in a love spell. So Mun is magnetic. That’s just the way he naturally is. 

Sweeping a hand under your nape, he allowed your head to fall back in a perfect curve and your neck went unsheltered. His enchanting voice bathed in anticipation as he whispered in your ear:  

“Perfect. Now relax and I’ll do all the work for you.”

His devotion exploded like fireworks in the sky, each glimmer landing on the ground meant another kiss perched down on your skin. Your evening ended in So Mun’s embrace, loving you and cuddling you until the night had gone by. 

You resulted in a cycle of wearing turtleneck tops constantly for three weeks straight, whether or not it was chilling outside or you were one step away from passing out in your own pool of sweat during training. To the point the other counters were highkey concerned, like, damn, what if you actually unalive due to overheating? (you won’t.) 

This is all because every time your amazing boyfriend noticed his garden of cherries on your skin had slightly faded away, he’d sneak you into whatever secluded spot he could find and plant a fresh, brand new one on you, right onto the same spots.  

But since it was THE So Mun initiating the act so who’s gonna complain? Not you, obviously.

Thank you sm for bearing with me til the end i know this fic is long (and OOC) (ﾉ´∀｀*) Hope you enjoyed it!!

#so mun #so mun x reader #the uncanny counter x reader #the uncanny counter #unncanny counter #lim juyeon #kim woongmin #kdrama #kdrama x reader #pookie please come home 🏠

[kentosovertime]

(n.) the extraordinary sense upon first meeting someone, that you will one day fall in love

➳ nanami kento x gojo's sister/afab reader - 6.5k (oopsies)

➳ a/n: does nanami deserve a happy ending after shibuya? did anything happen between reader and geto after nanami left? (so many ideas just off of this one fic and its so refreshing to write gojo platonically for once) enjoy~

➳ cw: explicit content, explicit language, tension, angst, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, breeding, stranger to friends to strangers to lovers, idiots to lovers on a journey, miscommunication, everyone's depressed anxious and existential

✨Masterlist | Tag List | Ask Box | Open Request Event | AO3 | Ko-Fi✨

10 years ago…

“And why exactly am I the one to be dragged along for this?” Nanami’s eye twitches in annoyance as he follows Gojo down the hallway to where the classrooms are. “Where’s Geto? This seems more his speed.”

“I’m not bringing Geto along for this.” Gojo scoffs loudly at the idea. The last thing he needed was Geto giving her fuck me eyes like he did when he stayed at the clan houses for the summer. “The pervert can’t be trusted with such a delicate task.” 

“Trouble in paradise, Satoru?” His voice drawls, bored out of his mind already. These dramatics were a waste of his time. Whatever this was, he didn't need to be here. 

Gojo’s blue glare pins him as he stops outside the first year classroom, an edge of distress in his gaze.

“I brought you because I trust you around my-” A cloud of dust suddenly plumes around Satoru’s head and Nanami watches as a chalkboard eraser clatters to the ground from where it nailed him in the… is his infinity off?

“It's the first day, you ass!” Someone hisses behind Satoru, just out of Nanami’s field of vision as Satoru rubs the back of his head with a pout. “Can I go one god damn day without you showing up and making my life more annoying than you make it at home?”

Nanami's eyes widen slightly as he peeks out from behind Satoru to take in the girl handing Gojo’s ass to him. Tall.. curvy… with long white hair- his thoughts are cut off by a pair of squealing girls inside the classroom. A quick look has him seeing them pointing at Satoru and whispering, along with a boy who’s rolling his eyes at their antics while keeping a very close eye on you. 

“How did you even know I was here?” He whines, rubbing the bump on his head. “You should be paying attention to Yaga.”  

Nanami watches as she huffs out an exasperated sigh and points at her eyes, covered by sunglasses.

“Six eyes.” You snip, turning your finger to point aggressively at him. “And you stomp around like a toddler and control your volume as well as one. Where’s Geto? He’s the capable one between the two of you.”

“Sorry.” Nanami finally pipes up, giving you a small wave as he clears his throat. “I was enlisted instead. You try controlling this menace… You must be his.. sister?” 

“Mhmm..” You turn your blue gaze to him, taking him in as you nod your head in Satoru’s direction. “Surely you’re not friends with this? I implore you to have better taste.”

You didn’t know your brother had decent friends, you hum to yourself. Your sharp eyes take in his presence, the cursed energy around him steady and calm despite dealing with Satoru. His presence and attention feels soft… there’s a rightness to it.

“See, Nanamin? She’s just as bad! Stop acting like I’m the only one who’s annoying. And you-” He turns to you with an assessing glare. “Talking about Geto a lot... obsessed much?” 

“Must run in the family.” A bored yawn comes from your mouth as your brother’s teeth grit. 

You 1, Satoru 0. 

An uncharacteristic snort flies from Nanami’s throat and your heart flies into your throat knowing that you’ve managed to almost make him laugh. He’s so serious you’re sure it's not a common occurrence. You want to hear him do it again. 

“We’ll leave you to class.” He doesn’t give Satoru the option as he pushes him down the hallway and out of the building. “I’ll see you la-” 

Nanami turns to the quiet spot looming behind him that’s normally filled with Satoru’s endless prattling, only to see him gazing up at the building with a worried look on his face, chewing on his cheek in thought. 

“I had to threaten the clan to get her here… helps that they can’t touch me now.” He says softly. “They don’t see how good she is… they only see that she doesn't have the limitless technique. Not how she’s used the eyes to adapt other techniques.” 

“Where else would she be if not here?” Nanami is sure that he knows the answer, hoping he’ll hear something else come from his senior’s lips. 

“Sixteen’s a little too young to be breeding stock for the Zen’ins. Naoya’s a piece of shit.” Gojo shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs. His eyes meet Nanami’s over the rim of his round sunglasses, more serious than he’s ever seen him. “Geto and I.. We won’t be on campus often.” 

He holds Satoru’s gaze for a moment longer, giving a quick nod in agreement. Even if he feels he’s being selfish in fulfilling this for him. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

By the end of your second year in Jujutsu High, you’ve felt like you can breathe for some time now. It’s not that you don’t appreciate everything that Satoru did to get you here, but it's nice not to have to deal with the shadow he cast while he was a third year. 

At least you had Ken, even if he’d be graduating at the end of the month, leaving you alone here without someone to lean on. You feel he counts on you just as much as you do him, opening up about the hole Haibara left in his life before you came to school here. 

You lay on a couch in one of the common rooms, your feet propped on his lap as he reads. You examine the ends of your hair absentmindedly, trying to build up the courage you need to tell him how you feel. 

There’s no guarantee that you’ll see him again once he graduates and takes on jobs. No guarantee that he’ll survive them. You don’t want to have regrets when it comes to him. Not when you’ve never had someone like him in your lonely life in the Gojo clan. 

“Ken…” You start, licking your lips nervously. 

“Yeah, hun?” He shifts to gaze at you over his book, looking at you curiously.��

“I…” You start, swallowing around the lump in your throat, chickening out at the last second and changing the subject before he can ask why you’re acting so cagey. “Where are you planning to be based after graduation?”

“Oh.. I..” Your eyes note a nervous flare in his cursed energy, his body tensing under your legs. You pull your legs from him, sitting up as your brows pull together. 

“Is everything ok, Ken?” You asked worriedly. “Listen, I can take care of someone if they’re bothering you.” 

“It's not that…” He sighs and closes his book carefully before turning to you. “I haven’t told anyone yet but… I’m leaving jujutsu. I’m going to work a normal person's job away from all this death and despair.” 

“O-Oh?” Your heart seizes, scared he’s going somewhere that you won’t be able to reach him. Your voice cracks, betraying your emotions. “You’re still going to visit… right?”

“N-No… I don’t think I can do this,” he waves his hands around at the school, “anymore, hun. It’s too much. All the pain.” 

You stare at him, your blue eyes unguarded as they start to mist. He’d just leave you behind? Not talk to you? Not beg you to come with him even if your clan will never let you follow?

“Good to know I mean nothing to you.” You bite out, your bitter attitude you reserve for those you’ve written off. This is just the first one to mean something to you. 

You leave before he can see your tears fall. There’s no death for a jujutsu sorcerer without regrets… you suppose yours will be no different. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Present Day

You yawn and settle in the chair, crossing your arms as you watch Satoru sitting in the seat across from you. 

“I trust you’re not destroying my house with that student of yours.” You hum, examining your manicured nails. 

“Well Yaga’s cursed doll may have broken a TV but I replaced it. Yuji needs to watch his movies.” His grin widens.

“Then I don’t get why you had the higher ups pull me from my assignment.” You huff in offense. “That was good money.” 

“Like you need it.” He rolls his eyes and unwraps a pastry that he munches on loudly. “Besides I’d like you to hop in to help with Yuji.” 

“Yes, master. Anything for you, oh, Strongest One.” His jaw twitches and you mentally note another win on your tally board. “You really have him just sitting in my basement watching movies? Remind me to pray you never have kids.”

“I’m fantastic with kids! They love me!” He argues before dropping into a more serious tone. “I have someone I trust with him but I was stopped by two unregistered special grade curses last night. Keep them alive pretty please.”

“Someone you trust? I thought that list was nonexistent these days.” You figure keeping them alive involves ensuring Sukuna stays sealed and these two stay healed up with your reverse curse technique. 

Satoru’s phone rings in his pocket, making him smirk when he sees who it is. 

“The sewer?” Your nose crinkles in disgust as you listen, wondering why curses can’t appear in a five star hotel and spa. You’ll make sure that your dry cleaner’s bill makes its way to your brother if he expects you to go there. “I have a higher ups to terrorize but I can drop off some back up for you.”

“You better be providing hazard pay for my clothing.” You mutter as he hangs up, giving you a shit eating grin. 

“You could try not wearing $900 shoes while fighting curses.”

“Says the man who spends over a thousand on one shirt.” You scoff. 

“They don’t get dirty. One of us has limitless.” You glower at him as he pretends to draw a tally on his side of the board. “Don’t look at me like that. At least you won’t be bored.”

Satoru stands, picking an invisible piece of lint off of his navy blue coat, waiting for you to stand, placing a hand is his so he can teleport you. 

Sparing poor Ichiji a ride into the city for you and putting his plan into motion for you? You should be thanking him for being such a wonderful brother. He’s truly the best matchmaker in Japan. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Nanami panted in exertion, his stamina starting to fail, his movement growing sloppy as he compensates for the wound seeping blood into the torn fabric of his shirt. He dodges the swing from the patchwork curse in front of him, in a state to only be able to defend. He grits his teeth in frustration, the match up unfair when he can’t damage the soul of his opponent that’s constantly in flux. He needs to distract him long enough to make a break for it and report this to Gojo. 

A light, quicker cadence of footsteps enters his range of hearing as he ducks behind a large piece of debris, not seeing the arm that had shifted yet again, bending around the rubble to reach for the killing blow, but it never comes. Instead his vision is filled with the flash of blue cursed energy, the veins of energy moving to push the curse’s reach away, grabbing a hold at launching him across the room. 

“Thank yo-” His mouth goes dry as a blur of long white hair streaks across his field of vision, charging the curse from where she slammed him into a pillar. “Don’t let him touch you!” 

Fear like he’s never known floods his system. You shouldn’t be here. Not if it means exposing you to the possibilities that this curse presents. He won’t let you be the next face that he sees, torn, bloody, and lifeless, when he closes his eyes at night. 

“I know.” You snap at him, your cursed energy wrapping around your body like a blanket, making the curse’s attacks graze right over you as energy blasts forth and ties its way around every piece of the curse it touches, slowing him now, sealing him like the talismans you specialize in before he graduated. 

“I forget you know everything.” He grunts, the impatience and immaturity bubbling up to the surface as the memories of your last conversation together flashes through his mind.

“I should have known Satoru Gojo’s sister would give me a run for my money.” The curse cackles maniacally, continuing to fight but slowly drawing back as her technique starts to overwhelm him. “He’ll be so pleased to know you’re a pawn to use in his plan.” 

Nanami circles around him, running towards a weak spot in the wall, grateful that at least he has an opening to end this for now. He swings his blunt blade at the 7:3 weak spot, shattering the concrete and catching the curse off guard. 

“Put me down!” You hiss as he appears suddenly, wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you to his good side to drag you away from the curse laying in the rubble behind them. “Let me finish the damn fight, Kento!” 

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t put you down until you’re out of the sewer and approaching the road, his pain taking over as he presses a hand against the wound and his hand comes away coated in blood, turning your face sheet white. 

“You’re hurt-” You reach out to him automatically, knowing you can help but you pull away at the last second. You can’t do this out in the open. There’s somewhere you can bring him to patch him up. 

“Where did you take me?” He asks warrily, unsettled by the ritzy interior of the building they’re in and that the door man didn’t even bat an eye when the two of you entered in this state. 

“Satoru owns the building.” You say plainly, refusing to meet him in the eye. He supposes he deserves such a reaction from you, knowing he hurt you all those years ago. 

He follows you into the elevator and up to the top floor, taking in the penthouse apartment that screams Satoru as soon as they enter. 

“Uh uh.” You glare at him as he tries to move into the living room to sit to sew himself shut to stop the bleeding. “Bathroom. You bleed on Satoru’s couch and he’ll have my ass. I’ll be right in to help you.” 

He opens his mouth to ask how you could possibly help him, but thinks better of it considering your mood. He listens, leaving you to where you disappeared into the kitchen to get a drink. 

He leans against the counter of the sink, pressing a towel he found against the wound, dialing Satoru’s number to warn him about the unregistered curse that can kill with a single touch. 

“Want to tell me why you’re doing this?” He rumbles low in his chest, his eyes darting to the crack in the door, making sure you weren’t lurking where you could hear him. “You know she wasn’t ready to see me.”

“If I told you, you’d call me a liar.” Satoru sings across the line, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. “Maybe I’m just being your bestest friend ever~” 

“Whatever you’re trying, I’m not falling for the prank you’re setting up.” He hisses, the anger bubbling anew. “There’s stirring things up, Gojo, but this is cruel.” 

Nanami can practically see Satoru shrugging nonchalantly, like he couldn’t possibly be doing something wrong.

“Have fun, bestie~” The phone beeps, indicating that he ended the line, making Nanami let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Take your shirt off.” You order as soon as you cross the threshold with two glasses filled with a generous serving of expensive whiskey, handing one to him before downing yours in one gulp. 

“E-Excuse you-” He sputters, freezing in place. “Did you just ask me to-” 

“Strip? Yes.” You meet his eyes, keeping your gaze purposefully blank. “How else am I going to heal you?” 

Heal him…? He blinks at you in shock. You mastered Reverse Curse Technique? Enough to heal others? Only Shoko was capable of that…

His fingers move hesitantly down the buttons on his shirt, shedding it and tossing it on the sink so he can wash it when you’re done. He notices that you purposefully advert your eyes from his form, frowning at the disappointment he has no right to feel. 

“This is new.” He says as carefully as he can, wanting desperately to know everything you’ve been doing since he left. 

“I had a lot of time during third year.” He notes an air of sadness in your tone. “Why do you think Satoru chose me to help you with Yuji?” 

He tries to answer but hisses in pain as you prod the wound, kneeling in front of him so you’re eye level with it, adjusting your grip 

“I figured he’s bored and wants to spice things up by torturing his “friends”.” He watches with rapt fascination as the flesh at his waist starts to stitch itself together, leaving his skin like the wound had never been present. The thing you couldn’t heal was the damage the curse had caused to his soul by trying to transfigure it.

“Seems accurate. Considering he didn’t tell me who I’d be helping.” You sigh, your brows pulling together in concentration as you direct your energy into the technique. “But he knew you’d need my skills… this and the sealing abilities.”

A silence stretches between the two of you, but you’ve never been one to be alone with your thoughts for long, even given your present company. “I thought you were done with jujutsu.” A pit forms in your stomach. He was back after everything that happened and it was like your pain was for nothing. “How long have you been back?” 

“I was… but I knew I couldn’t help people here more than in an office cubicle.” His skin jumps slightly as you pull away and adjust your grip to heal a smaller spot left the the side of the tear in his side. “About a year…” 

“A year?” And you didn’t come find me? Somewhere small and distant cries inside of you at that. “You were here during the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons?” 

“I was stationed to help in Kyoto… but I didn’t see you there.” He looks away with a sigh, his skin tingling as you move to wipe the residual blood left on his skin. “I looked for you. I figured they would split you and Gojo between the two locations.” 

“I was sent to update the seals on the doors around Tengen to ensure his safety while everyone was away. And set barriers around the school entrances to him. Besides, I’m hardly his counterweight to send elsewhere. I’m only a Semi-Grade 1.” 

“You don’t need to be a Special Grade to make a difference or to save more sorcerers from dying at the hand of curses.” His jaw twitches as he grinds his teeth, feeling bad as soon as he sees your eyes soften like they used to, seeing right through him. 

“You know I would have been there if I wasn’t ordered to attend Tengen…” You stand, dusting the dirt from your knees and leaning against the wall opposite of him. “Especially for the young ones.” 

It wasn’t just Nanami that had experienced a classmate dying on duty. The other two girls in your year died on missions, one in year two the other in year three. You’re sure that if you still agree on anything, it's to make sure students don't need to shoulder the burdens of the jujutsu world if it could be avoided. 

“That wasn’t fair to say to you. Seems I can’t ever say the right things around you…” 

“No it wasn’t.” You wish the fluttering in your heart would stop and leave you to die with the regrets you expected to bear until you were no more. You laugh humorously, all too familiar with the brand of pain he brings into your life. “You excel at walking all over my heart. I used to like you, ya know?” 

He stares, blinking rapidly at you as the new information slots into his mind. The shock reverberates through him. You’ve always been as outspoken and upfront as your brother… would that not have extended to you telling him before he graduated?

Once the shock abates, he’s left with a sense of longing that couldn’t be resolved. “Used to” like him. Past tense. You’d probably moved on by this point. He remembered what Satoru had confided in him when he asked Nanami to look after you. You were 26 with a long list of potential suitors from prominent families to choose from. 

Any hope that he had rekindled in seeing you again slowly starts to die. 

He was too late, and made too many mistakes. Maybe he would leave this world with regrets after all… despite coming back to jujutsu to make things right with you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The unease of seeing Ken again weighs on your heart, especially when you keep catching him looking at you like a wounded puppy days later when you decide if you’re helping out your brother, you can stay in the comfort of your own damn home. 

“Ms. Gojo, ma’am?” Yuji cocks his head as you walk across the living room to bring your stuff up to your bedroom. “Are you staying in Sensei’s safe house with us? I promise we’re not that bad to hang out with. You don’t need to look so down.” 

The comment stops you in your tracks, making you look back at where Nanami and Yuji are settled on your sectional. Nanami’s gaze is carefully averted, trying to not have his mood called out by Yuji too. 

“Yuji, you know this is my house, right?” Leave it to Satoru to try sounding cool by claiming he owns a dedicated safe house. “Satoru is borrowing it for the time being… sorry. More like commandeering it. Asshole.”

“I like this one…” A deep voice purrs as an eye and mouth appears on Yuji’s cheek before he slaps it, wincing at the pain before it moves to the back of his hand as he goads you on. “If you dislike the man, help me destroy him.”

“High praise from the King of Curses.” You deadpan, mentally rolling your eyes. “Stay cooped up in there or I’ll make sure you sleep another thousand years.”

“Such vile words from a woman’s mouth. In my day, you’d be slain so deliciously for such impertinence.” 

“Whelp.” You shrug, looking very much like your brother at that moment. “Good thing I’m allowed to have thoughts and opinions in this age.” 

You disappear up the stairs, ascending them without paying any mind to the final words flying from the demon residing in Yuji’s body. 

“Woman! I didn’t dismiss you!” Sukuna’s yells echo after you to the second level of your home and he snarls when he hears you snort at the dramatics, listening to Yuji chastise him for disrespecting you in your own home until you get far enough down the hall to not hear them anymore. 

“Wait up.” Nanami jogs up the stairs after you, trying to take your bag from your arms. “I didn’t know this was your place either… I sort of took the master bedroom.” 

“... Is Yuji in the spare room?” You hold onto your back tighter, not allowing him to carry any of the weight for you. If you had known that you wouldn’t have a room to sleep in you would have stayed at the hotel you were in. 

“He is. Listen… I don’t mind sharing with you. It’s not like we didn’t in school.” He rubs the back of his neck, knowing that there isn’t another bed in the house. “Of course, that is, if you’re comfortable. I don’t want to assume it's ok, not knowing your current situation.” 

His heart beats in a frantic rhythm in this chest. If this was your house, he didn’t notice that you lived here, let alone another man. There had been a basic set of feminine clothing in the closet and a small stock of high end body care items in the bathroom, but nothing to note a masculine presence had ever occupied the space. A tiny corner of his heart holds onto the hope that he was right all those years ago, that he would one day love you and be able to have you. 

“As long as you didn’t become a pervert in your old age.” He almost doesn’t catch the smirk twitching at the corner of your mouth and the playful gleam in your eye, he rolls his eyes with a chuckle and yanks your bag from your grasp.

“I’m only a year older than you.” He playfully flicks your nose, his eyes lighting up when you scrunch your face and swat his hand away, the echoes of who you were in school still there.

“You didn’t even deny it.” You whine and make your way into your room, seeing his neat pile of items on your spare night stand, the rumpled blankets next to the side of the bed you normally occupy, fills you with a nostalgic kind of warmth. “You better not be. I sleep naked.” 

You double over in laughter, hearing him choke on his shock before it throws him into a coughing fit, his face bright red. He’s still so easily flustered, even looking like… well… like that. 

Your cheeks flush a light shade of pink, remembering what he looks like under those blue button downs. He didn’t look like that in his third year and you wonder how he managed to maintain his physique while working in the corporate environment in Tokyo.

“Don’t worry. I’m fucking with you.” You chuckle, hoping your flush can be excused on your fits of laughter.  Resolving yourself to settle in for the night, you start removing your jewelry, starting with your earring, setting them on the nightstand . “I’ll wear pajamas for you.”

Even if you didn’t want to. 

Hours later, Nanami lays awake, willing his mind to be as blank as the ceiling he’s been staring at. Eventually, he shifts, settling on his side, facing your back. Pajamas hadn’t been the mercy he thought they would be. 

His gaze trails the bare expanse of your back where your silk tank top dips, stray strands of long white hair escape the messy bun you tied before burrowing your face in the pillows. His journey is halted by the faint white scarring that stretches across your left shoulder blade, disappearing around your front. 

The lines of the scars weren’t raised or angry, indicating a reverse curse technique was used to heal them. But the fact that any mark was left at all? It either took her long enough to get to healing them, or they were serious enough that not all the damage could be erased. 

The fear that he felt in the sewer when she appeared pales in comparison to the guilt that slams into him. Had he been sitting at a desk in some high rise in the city, selfishly avoiding his fate, while you were out risking your life?

Never again. He promises himself. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“You shouldn’t go, Yuji.” Your grip tightens on where your phone is still glued to your ear, Ken waiting on the line for you to relay the emergency in front of them. 

A high school was set in the sights of the patchwork curse that almost managed to kill Nanami and Yuji’s friend was stuck within its halls. Yuji’s body shakes with the desire to run into the fray. 

“I’m sorry, Ms. Gojo…” He sprints past you, slamming open the door before he disappears, running as fast as he can to the school’s campus.

“Yuji!” You shout after him, gritting your teeth in frustration. He shouldn’t have to shoulder more burdens than he already does. 

“Y/N.” Kento murmurs over the phone, pulling you back to attention. “They lowered a barrier. We need to make sure he can’t get away and drop another one around them.”

“You’re asking me to sit on the sidelines.” You hotly argue, storming out to find your car, following Yuji regardless of what your role will be. “You can’t just push me to the side because you’re afraid I’ll get hurt!”

“No. I’d never, hun.” Your old pet name sounds strained on his tongue, a long beat of silence stretches between you before his voice cracks, filling the silence. “I just… We can’t let him get away. I need you when this is over.” 

It only comes at the cost of tying your hands. Imprisoning you beyond a barrier where you’re stuck without being able to back him up or even know if he’s alive. 

“Y-you better come back to me then.” You choke into the phone. 

“Always.” He promises and you both know that promise is a lie. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You pace the sidewalk next to your car, the barrier still in place until you were told to drop it. A trail of cold sweat drips down your spine with each minute that passes without any update on what’s happening within the barriers. 

The ringing of your phone makes you jump out of your skin and you answer it without a glance at the caller ID. 

“You can drop the barrier.” Your brother’s voice sings through the phone and it makes your stomach drop that Kento wasn’t the one to reach out to you. “The slimy bastard escaped through the sewers below the barriers.” 

“But w-what about-” You stammer, your insides twisting and catastrophizing the worst case scenario. 

“He’s fine, Y/N.” His voice is softer than he’s ever addressed you and you stammer out an excuse, that he wasn’t what you were going to ask about. “You don’t cry in the bathroom of someone’s going away party and then run out if you don’t care about them.” 

“I told you to never bring that up again.” You croak, embarrassment flushing your cheeks. “I was just upset that he was leaving. It’s not that deep.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He dismisses you easily. “Thank me for forcing you on a mission together when you idiots admit your feelings for each other. Especially if Yuji’s not around to save him from the patchwork’s domain expansion next time.”

“You didn’t want to lead off with that!?” You scream into the microphone, pulling the gaze of a couple of people walking across the street. As the barrier you set dissolves, you launch yourself into the driver’s seat. “Where are they? I’ll get them.” “Ichiji is dropping Yuji off to me. They left already.” He hums. “He’ll go back for Nanami after. He’s catching Ino up so he can search for the curse in the sewers.” 

“So what the hell am I supposed to do?” You growl at him, annoyed that you continue to be ignored when you could be in those underground passages, tracking and sealing him away with your talisman technique. The tires on your car squeal as you peel out of your parking space, turning the wheel to head home. 

“Rest.” Satoru says simply. “We have at least three unregistered special grade curses on the run and no clue what’s organizing them. Whatever is coming, we're going to need you with Shoko.” 

“Nursemaid. Got it.”  You can hear how he rolls his eyes before he simply hangs up on you. 

The halls of your home echo when you unlock the door, the stagnant air clinging to your skin and mocking you with what it would feel like if you didn’t share this space with Kento. 

You let your body carry you to the kitchen, your bare feet padding down the hall until you find your liquor cabinet, downing a double straight with a grimace. The glass clatters as you set it on the counter and slide it away from you. 

Your shoulders droop as you lean against the counter, letting your head hang so you can take a steadying breath. You remain that way until you hear footsteps approaching you from the front door. 

Your tired gaze meets Kento’s and a silence stretches between you as you simply take a moment to look at one another, to realize that the other is still there and that hasn’t been ripped away from you. 

“A-are you ok?” Your eyes widen as Nanami walks towards you with purpose, your feet slipping backwards until your lower back meets the granite surface of the counter. “What are you do-” 

The question dies on your lips as the distance is closed with his hips against yours, pinning you in place as both of his hands cup your cheeks. He uses the position to hold your face in place as he slams his lips to yours desperately. 

A shocked whine emanates from your throat, but you're quickly melting against him, moaning openly as you seek his lips in return, fisting his shirt so he doesn’t try to pull away. 

HIs hands slide in a path down your body, his palms finding purchase on your hips, gripping the skin there to try to get closer. You groan, wanting to feel him grind against your center instead. 

You twine your arms around him, refusing to break where the kiss has grown heated, your tongue tangling together, drunk of the taste of one another. You use the leverage to hop up to sit on the counter and you gasp into his mouth when he doesn’t miss a beat, easily gripping the back of your clothed thighs to spread them around his waist, urging them to lock at the ankles behind him, your ass perched on the edge of the flat surface. 

You imagine what his hands look like gripping your ass, kneading the soft skin there as he uses his raw strength to move your hips against the growing erection in his pants. 

“K-Ken please.” You plead breathlessly as the sloppy, wet kisses transition across your cheek, to along your jaw and down your neck. “Fuck- please-” 

“Please.” He rumbles your own command back at you before reaching to fist a hand in your hair, forcing your head back and to the side with a sharp gasp. “Use your words or I’ll have to start guessing how you’d want me to take you.” 

“Please. I n-need-” A small sob bubbles out as he immediately bites down on the juncture of your neck. “K-Ken, I need more.” 

“Shit you’re so eager…” A low growl rumbles from him as he loops his fingers in your pants, starting to pull them down your legs with your panties. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you need me.” 

“I need you.” You lean forward as soon as your pants are off to kiss him again, your hands easily locating the belt cinching his slacks up. You pull it open and pop the button before pulling the zipper just enough to slide your hand in. 

His hips buck into your hand as you wrap your fingers around his length, pumping until he’s mad with the need to be inside of you, scrambling to drop his pants to the floor so he can tug you closer to shoves his way inside of you. 

“Hun-” His fingertips dig bruises into the skin of your ass, dimpling this skin with his hold as he leans to lap at the skin at your neck, his hips still grinding into your hold around him.  “We should s-slow down. Let me t-take care of you first.” 

It took everything in him to try to pump the brakes. After 10 years of knowing you, he didn’t want to wait any longer. 

“L-Later.” You pant. “We’ll have time for that later. Just please f-fuck me.” 

“I don’t have a-” You pull him by his cock, trailing his head through your folds, shuddering as you tease your clit with it before positioning the tip at your entrance. 

“I don’t care, Ken.” You feel as if you’ll explode if you wait a moment longer. You don’t want a barrier between the two of you, the consequences of that be damned. 

He pulls you forward as he thrusts into you suddenly, making you fall back onto your elbows with a long moan, your cunt taking the brunt of the force of his cock bullying its way into your vice grip. 

“M-move-” Your body shakes, squirming on his length for any measure of friction you could find to help the burning heat spreading from your center.

“I can’t yet, baby.” He bows over, resting his forehead on your shoulder, giving the skin there a soft kiss. “Or I’ll fucking cum in you too soon.” 

Instead he takes a deep breath, reaching between you to rub your clit in steady circles, building you up to be able to cum with him. 

“Baby.” He coos in your ear, slowly starting to pull out of you before slamming home against your cervix, increasing his pace while he acclimates to your tight grip. “Your precious little cunt clamped down on me when I mentioned coming in you.” 

It does again, pulling him deeper as he groans, nearly losing himself in the process. 

“There it is.” He growls, pushing you back to lay on the counter by your neck, pinning you there with his hand around your throat. “You like the thought of me breeding you, princess? None of those jujutsu suitors good enough for this pussy?” 

“T-There aren’t any-” Your legs spread, falling wider to accommodate his thrusts as they build in intensity, his thumb rubs frantically against you, doubling its speed when he feels you clench around him, groaning at the high pitched whines that accompany it. 

He soaks you in as you cum, the flush of liquid against his hips that make the slapping of his hips against yours that much more obscene, how your eyes have gone so cloudy and trusting that you accept being prone with his hand where he could harm you, and the roundness of your mouth as your brows furrow together as you shake violently with your high. 

“K-Ken-” Your broken voice cracks as his thrust overstimulates you. “G-God I need your cum inside of me. Pl-please daddy-” 

The pet name has his eyes rolling back, his cock twitching inside of you before it explodes against your womb in spurts of cum that continue until you’re leaking it onto  the floor below you. 

“Shit.” He curses, a small panic in his eyes as he comes down from his high. “I.. I’m sorry. I wanted to be slow the first time… So you know how much I loved you.” 

His confession thunders through your chest, sending a truly genuine smile to grace your lips. 

“You love me?” You inquire as the room still spins in circles, making sure he said what you thought. 

“I do.” He smirks, leaning in for a slow, loving kiss. “From the day I met you until we’re parted.”

tag list: @sugarbooger513 @sugarmapoops @roughwithfluff @severelytalentless @yelzoldyck @silversslut @aazaard @dreamyyholland @wobblewobble822 @vantastic210 @rafzaha @tirzamisu @chososhoney @littlemochi @bebechinas99 @firdaoz @saoney @meromelo @pelicanpizza @sukunassoulmate @damncakie @katgalle @honeyyjems [[ if your blog name is crossed out i couldn't tag you]]

#jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuji #jjk x you #nanami kento #kentosot original #nanami smut #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #kento #kento nanami #jujutsu nanami #gojos sister #gojo satoru #yuji itadori #yu jimin #ryomen sukuna #sukuna jjk

[the-s1lly-corner]

Sir Pentious fluff alphabet A-P

Usually I'd only make these posts be 3 letters but I'm in a "what if I completed a bunch of my prompt lists for various characters" kick soooooo

AFFECTION

He wants to find someone he can unapologetically be himself around. Hes not exactly picky, but he does enjoy people who have class.. or at least have an appreciation for that.. and yet he also loves someone who can take the reigns and not be afraid to show themselves off to the world. Someone confident, is what he's looking for! He doesnt have much preference for looks

BONDING

He loves working together with you on a machine! Though if you dont want to do that he doesnt mind! Usually when you do something together it's something small and therapeutic, like cooking together or doing a puzzle! Despite all the turf wars hes thrown himself into, the man does enjoy a quiet afternoon every now and then

CUDDLING

It's been done!

DATES

He switches between being a cliche romantic with taking you out to fancy restaurants, and something more private like a walk with just the two of you. He wants to adapt to the newer themes that have been introduced to the dating world, but theres some comfort in going back to what was common in his time as a living human. Regardless of what the scenario is, hes going to be on his best behavior for you, a model gentleman if you ignore his nervousness

EMOTION

Theres a likely chance you're the more emotional one between the two of you. Hes not afraid to cry in front of you. Hes not afraid to smother you in love, either. Even if he did try to tone it down he wouldn't last long, and on top of that he'd still be so obvious

FAMILY

Hes always wanted kids, at least a few. Unfortunately biological children are now out of the question due to sinners being unable to have children after death; but that still leaves a window for adopted children! Though in an odd and sweet way the egg boiz are like your children

GIFT GIVING

He always makes you hand made gifts, usually cool gadgets and trinkets! If he hears you have an interest in something hes going to try to make it for you! Though if theres something he cant make even after attempting, he will go out and purchase it for you.. although internally hes a little wounded that he couldn't get the job done himself

HARSH

He doesnt initiate or entertain arguments between the two of you, instead either instantly submitting or trying to compromise. He doesnt want to upset you is all, even if it kind of.. makes his voice go unheard sometimes. That's something the two of you are going to need to work on together. On the off chance he does argue back, he tends to be the first to apologize. Or at least make amends

INJURY

When he gets injured he dresses and takes care of the wound accordingly, and while he doesnt exactly need your help hes not going to shoo you away.. might play up how much it hurts to get some extra attention and affection from you, though hes not doing anything crazy with it. On the flip side hes much less composed when you're the one hurting, and hes going to be pouring all of his attention and care into you until you feel better. Hes just as doting, it not more, when taking care of you

JEALOUSY

He gets jealous fairly easily, though he never ever takes it out on you! He understands that's wrong. If someone comes and tries to flirt with you hes probably going to try to act.. smooth.. with trying to get the point across that you and him are an item. Though it comes off a little cringe and pathetic... sometimes it ends with a fight..that hes not going to win

KISSES

It's been done!

LOVE LANGUAGE

He loves when you reaffirm that you love him, and he also loves when you touch him! Soft kisses, hand holding, putting your hands on his shoulders and so on make him melt into you! In return he shows his love for you through acts of service and by hand crafting gifts for you! Technically he also does words of affirmation as he never goes more than a few hours without telling you he loves you

MARRIAGE

Hes always wanted to get married, even in life. Hes a little old fashioned in his beliefs that a relationship should have a marriage, though I'm sure you two can find a compromise where you're both happy. Perhaps buying a set of rings to share to show your commitment to one another to the outside world

NO

This is more so deeper into his road to redemption, but he tries to set boundaries against people and behaviors that may undo his progress. Hes dedicated, and he feels it'd be rude if he just undid all of the hard work everyone did to get him to the point he's gotten to. Unfortunately, that means if your plans clash too hard, or he can no longer satisfy you it may call an end to the relationship.. it's not so much as an instant dealbreaker as it is a slow decay of the relationship

It's been done!

ODDITY

Pentious is always going to be a little... odd. Not that hes weird, actually a lot of his habits are due to him not getting certain social cues and generally being a little awkward. But he doesnt mean anything bad by it, hes just a little different than others. If you can get past him sometimes not being able to read the room or not understanding certain sayings and slang, hes a perfect partner!

PETNAMES

#hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel x reader #sir pentious x you #sir pentious imagine #sir pentious x reader

[bontenten]

METAMORPHOSES 02 || Rules and Traditions

Pairings: Zenin Naoya x f!reader, Gojo Satoru x f!reader (unrequited) WC: 3.9k Series Genre/Warnings: smut, noncon/dubcon, emotional/physical abuse, yandere, Naoya, misogyny, arranged marriage, pregnancy, miscarriage, birth, lactation...it’s dark, and manga spoilers yupyup A/N: toxic is too healthy a word for naoya Series Masterlist

The daughter-in-law of the Zenins had much to do. Should you become the clan mother one day, you would have to oversee all of the domestic functions, the attendants, and chores that support the operations of the clan. Everything had its own rules and traditions: from the time people woke, to the division of the sorcerer classes and clan hierarchy, to the time of day meals were had and the laundry was done. You were a fast learner and quickly became indoctrinated into the life of the Zenins, familiarizing yourself with everything about everything.

People respected you as the new daughter-in-law of the main branch; there wasn't much that anyone could say you did wrong. You played your part perfectly, so you thought that the same sort of smooth development would also be reflected in your marriage.

Except Naoya was much more volatile than you could have ever imagined. The first weeks of loving promises quickly ended after Naoya returned to the field again, picking up missions. He often returned irritated and aggravated by anything or anyone that did not please him in the right way.

"I told you that I hate eating this."

"For the last fucking time, who allowed you to touch that with your filthy hands?"

"Get out."

And while Naoya lashed out at the attendants, you were never at the direct receiving end of his outrage. Instead, he would try to find you during his frenzy and then afterward finally calm down with enough reason. It soon became common knowledge among the attendants that should young master Naoya be ticked-off, they should immediately point him to the direction of his wife.

Today was no different. 

“The lady….The lady is in the study.” You heard a stack of books knocked over in the room across from you before something was kicked over. Naoya stormed into the room you were in, stalking over in wide steps. You thought, finally, he would have something to pick about you too, and already steeled yourself for whatever he had to say.

He dropped to the tatami mat in a soft thud. Arms wrapped around your shoulders as Naoya tightly hugged you to his frame. You could feel his deep, exerted breaths from his chest and heartbeat.

“Did something happen?”

“Weaklings, all of them. Pissing me off.”

A small, exasperated smile broke on your face. You had grown used to Naoya’s blunt, rude, and crass language. “Don’t be angry, it’s not good for you,” you advised. “They all had their own chores, why did you have to go around doing that? Just tell me if you have something on your mind.”

“Later”, he muttered before slipping a hand into your robe to cup your breast and pushing the fabric down to expose your shoulders. His lips found the bare skin behind your shoulders, still tender from the night before.

“N-Naoya. It’s still daytime,” you squeaked out, attempting to straighten your attire. “The servants are outside.”

Naoya growled and roughly pinched your nipples. “It’s nothing that they haven’t heard. They hear your cries for me every night.”

Before you could make another plea, you felt your back make contact to the tatami mat. The thick waistband failed miserably to the loosening fabric in order. Your kimono skirt was hiked up to your waist, leaving your bare legs free for his hands to squeeze and grab. Naoya straddled your legs around his waist, bearing down to grind himself along your glistening slit. Your toes curled tightly in the loose cotton socks.

He was hungry in seeking comfort from you. With his whole shaft buried tightly within your stretched walls, his groans fanned hot air on your earlobe. Heat and sweat melted across naked flesh. Your deep gasping breaths pressed your chest against his tightly.

“So fucking good,” Naoya slurred, before shuddering in ecstasy and unraveling his weight across your body.

You cradled him in the most intimate embrace. “Tell me now, my husband, what is troubling your mind.” 

Naoya doesn’t respond immediately, hesitating to reveal his thoughts. A gentle hand brushed over his damp hair, pushing the bangs out of his face only for the tresses to fall right back. Encouraged, he finally relented. “Father’s going soft. His lenience on his brothers. It’s a shame upon the clan name. Vermins of the main branch.” 

“The luckier they are to have you then.”

“The clan head position will be mine.”

“And why wouldn’t you, since Father is the current head? And your brothers have no aspirations for the position?” 

“They are probably poisoning the old man’s tea for all I know, treacherous bastards.”

You swallowed your incredulous question as to why they would if everyone was family. But your time here also taught you that the Zenins operated more as a community of winners versus losers. Naoya’s suggestion was very likely.

“There’s still a lot of time,” you carefully told him. “Besides you’re the leader of Hei and your name is feared and known. You’ll probably be the only candidate.”

"You're right about that. Only I can be the head of this clan. No one can take my birthright away from me." Naoya finally pushed himself up to get dressed.

“Shall I go draw a bath?” 

“No. Jinichi is training new brats, I have to go see myself if they are acceptable.”

The permanent wrinkles in your attire couldn’t be salvaged, so you made do to cover yourself decently. To your surprise, Naoya began to help you with your obi. It was obvious that he was in a pleasant mood.

“Jinichi is a strong and loyal clansman. His wife is quite talented as well.”

Naoya scoffed and secured the knot. “Hardly comparable, what are you trying to suggest?”

“Well,” you turned and softly held his hands, “Mai and Maki are growing up. Shouldn't it be time for them to have proper instructors to learn clan techniques and martial arts? They are already much older than when other children begin training."

"Ogi's spawns? This isn't the first time you brought it up, what makes you like them so much?" Women couldn’t amount to anything within the clan, so it would be a waste of resources.  

“Their mother, Akiko, has taken very good care of me. Mai has inherited a clan technique, right? I think Jinichi’s wife could be a good instructor. This doesn’t take up more of Jinichi’s time."

“Jinichi’s time shouldn’t be wasted on children.”

“You’re right,” you hurriedly agreed. “But the girls are still your cousin and an extension of the main branch. It wouldn’t do good to have someone else be involved in their training.”

You squeezed your hands around his and looked expectantly at him. The corner of Naoya’s lips tugged upwards. “Sneaky little minx, you have all this cleverly thought out.”

You smiled at the win and whispered. “As the wife of the future clan-head ought to.”

His grin spread even wider. “Maki is untalented, but her agility is still agreeable. You can send her to Kukuru’s training school tomorrow.”

“My husband is the most thoughtful,” you commended and tip-toed to press a kiss on his cheek.

Naoya snaked his arms around your waist in an instant. “I cannot wait to see more of your mothering instincts when you are with my heir. I am very pleased by this side of you.” His voice was sultry and low, numbing and seductive.

“Jinichi is still waiting for you,” you chided, putting some space in between. “I will have the kitchen prepare your favorite.”

Luckily, the call to responsibility was enough for Naoya to let you go. Although you still felt weak in your steps, you were excited to share the good news to Mai and Maki after a much-needed bath.

–

Your life pretty much fell into a routine, but one particular autumn day was out of the ordinary. Ever since you married into the Zenin clan, you haven’t heard from Gojo Satoru. More accurately speaking, even before your engagement, he was already out of your life. So, seeing him, white hair fluttering in the wind, standing in the middle of the clan courtyard was certainly surprising. You stood off to the side as Naobito and Naoya conversed with Satoru. A small boy hid behind him, dark eyes fluttering and confused.

The boy was called Fushiguro Megumi. His father was a renounced Zenin and the child took his mother's surname instead. You thought Megumi couldn’t possibly cause any harm, after all, what tides could a child—an orphan create? Except Naoya’s expression was very strained and barely hid the loathing in his eyes. If the clan insisted on keeping Megumi, you feared Naoya would tear out the boy’s throat on the spot. But with Satoru’s convincing words, and threats, Megumi was going to be under his wing instead. You saw the two out the front gate and managed to get a hold of Satoru for a few moments. 

"Satoru..." you met his gaze with a sort of distant familiarity. You had so many things to tell him, to ask him. All of the questions were stuck at the edge of your throat. “How have you been?”

"I've been well. Lady Zenin now, huh? And you?"

You let the title sound in your ears for a moment before answering a simple, "Good."

The last time you spoke to him had been through his voicemail—he never contacted you afterward. You couldn't see his expression beneath his mask, but you imagined that his eyes were still the same crystal blue. You averted your eyes to look at the weeds beginning to sprout in the corner while an awkward silence grew between the two of you.

"Well then, I still have lots to do, so I'll be taking my leave," he bowed and pressed down Megumi's head into a short bow too. "Come on Megumi, bow to your pretty auntie, you won't be seeing her anytime soon."

"Don't touch my hair!" Megumi grumbled, breaking from Satoru's grasp before fixing his messed up locks.

Megumi was very adorable. His dark hair and lashes were clearly from his Zenin genetics. It was this boy who had ultimately inherited the coveted Zenin family shadow techniques—the most prized one of all. It was a great and dangerous burden for such a young age after all, and you thought that Satoru taking the boy away would probably be best for both Megumi and the clan.

--

You winced as another vase was knocked over, crashing into pieces upon impact on the floor. Naoya let out another raging yell.

"That six-eyed bastard, Gojo Satoru. It's him, isn't it? You fancy him."

You made an attempt to reason with him. "There's nothing between us, Naoya. There wasn't ever anything between us. I married you, I am your wife. I haven't seen nor heard from him ever since our wedding."

"He doesn't even look at you," Naoya mocked. "Your husband was standing right there in front of you. But all you could do was stare at your past lover, huh?"

"Naoya—"

He was in front of you in an instant, rage and cursed energy pouring from him. The air was thick. You felt your throat constrict with panicked fear, as your legs gave out and you dropped to the ground. You shut your eyes and huddled in a shaking mess while Naoya knocked down the shoji screen and stood over you.

You've seen how well Naoya could fight, knew how easily he could've snapped your neck like it was nothing. You thought you were going to be an exception to his rage, that you were the one factor that could calm him down when he was irritated, but now that you were once at the receiving end, you had to admit to yourself: Naoya was terrifying and cruel, and you were not an exception to his wrath.

You hear fabric rustling and then a sharp pain jolt through your scalp as Naoya gripped a fistful of hair to lift your head up. 

“Pathetic bitch,” he sneered, squeezing your cheeks between his large hand. “Let me remind your pretty little head who you should look at.”

Eyes still seeing stars from the whiplash, you could only whimper. Naoya pulled his hakama down.

“Open wide.”

The moment your lips loosened just slightly, Naoya pushed the back of your head and shoved his cock down your throat. Tears prickled in the corners of your eye as your chest tried to heave the foreign object out with a gag. He pulled out for a moment and tapped the wet muscle across your cheek, precum smearing a mess. 

“I put up with your coyness because I find it amusing. That’s not an invitation for you to whore yourself out.”

“I wasn’t, I—”

“When I am disciplining you, you will not speak back to me. Be good.”

You could hear the fury in his voice and knew that there was no room for compromise at this time. The only thing you could do at the moment was to cooperate and hope that the whole thing would be over soon.

“Y-Yes,” you croaked and licked your lips. Naoya did not tug at your hair this time. You supported your hands on his thighs and lapped at the tip. You squeezed your eyes shut and focused on breathing through your nostrils. Naoya let out a pleased groan and immediately the room seemed that much calmer. For a while, his hand only rested on your head. The slopping noises from your saliva pumped adrenaline through your veins. But you were much too concentrated to give any attention to the wet pool between your thighs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he muttered, taking half a step to adjust his balance. His pace became more erratic and each thrust more forceful, until he shot out all of his cum at release. “Swallow. All of it.”

The heavy smell and taste remained even after two gulps. After ensuring you swallowed, he re-tied his hakama, while you sat disheveled. Your eyes followed him across the room. Naoya spared a glance towards you before he slid open the shoji door. Three attendants knelt outside, head bowed so low their foreheads seemed to touch the floor. One of them must have been new from the way she trembled.

“Hear nothing and speak nothing if you value your life.”

“Yes, Master Naoya,” the servants said in unison.

When Naoya’s footsteps could no longer be heard, they slowly rose to their feet and entered the room with their heads still bowed low. The most senior of them quietly gave out orders to the other two who quickly began to clean up the broken ceramics and knocked over furniture. She approached you and presented a handkerchief, carefully held out with her palms. You quietly took it and turned your head aside to wipe your mouth. The attendant helped you up from your spot and you excused yourself from the room.

When you came back into the room, all marks of Naoya’s outburst were completely erased. The only sign was the new treasures that decorated the shelves. You quietly picked at your dinner alone, only managing to sip on some of the soup to soothe your raw throat.

--

The lamp on the nightstand was the only source of light in the bedroom. You sat on the edge of the bed and tightly gripped your phone. The model was very old and outdated, but still usable. Technology didn’t exactly match the aesthetics of this traditional household. You flipped the device open and navigated to the phone call history—a long list of pixelated red arrows. It’s been a long time since you connected with your family. They rarely responded to your calls and if they did, it was from a side member only. They said the clan was doing well and your father was especially busy. But details were never shared as you were no longer a part of the clan.

Some days you wished for someone to talk to. The closest people you could converse at ease with were Mai and Maki, but both girls were so young, there was little you could share. Akiko always kept a straight and stern expression, in truth, you were sometimes a bit afraid of her. The Zenins were a family that frowned upon laziness and inefficiencies. It wouldn’t reflect well for the daughter-in-law of the main branch to have a loose tongue. 

You didn’t notice Naoya’s presence in the room until he took the phone out of your hands and put it back into the drawer.

“If you’re worried about your family, you could just ask me. They’re busy you know.” He slid under the covers on his half the bed. “Why don’t you worry a little about me?”

You lay down on your side and shut off the lamp, bringing darkness into the room. The covers were pulled tight over your shoulders as you faced the edge of the bed. “You’re already so strong, what could possibly happen to you?”

“Truly, did you think I was this way?”

“Are you suggesting you were not?” You couldn’t help but snap back, regretting it immediately.

He responded with an amused chuckle. “Have I told you about my mother?” 

No, you thought to yourself. In fact, no one mentioned Naoya’s mother, so you knew nothing about the woman other than she died during Naoya’s childhood.

“She was an unvirtuous woman, a harlot who got what she deserved,” Naoya said coldly, hatred laced in his words. You learned that she was accused of an affair with a servant-class Zenin and the clan elders decided to cast her into the disciplinary pit. “How dare she selfishly ask to see me before her judgment. Did you know? I would have cut her down myself if I could.”

Did Naoya think that of you too? The blanket shifted as Naoya pulled himself close behind you.

“I know you and that Gojo don’t have anything,” Naoya said softly, a gentle hand cradling you against him. “You would never betray me the way my mother did me.”

Still you did not move.

He went on. “I was three. Scorned and starved. I will never forget those eyes that mocked me, and questioned my legitimacy. Then, I finally proved my birthright after demonstrating that I inherited my father’s techniques. You know those trash who doubted me? They were forced to acknowledge that I was a prodigy whether they wanted to or not. I would soon surpass each and every one of them.”

You didn’t know this about Naoya. It was the first time he was sharing so much detail about his childhood and, this side of him.

“They hate me as much as I despise them. They’re always looking for an opening to burrow in. In this family, there will never be anyone on my side simply because they favor me. My men follow me because I’m the only one who can emerge victorious. They value their lives, so they submit to me. Today, did you see how the elders were fawning over Megumi?”

You remembered the enthusiastic voices for the boy to return to the clan. You understood why. Naoya didn’t need to explain further. It was the elders’ only chance to find a suitable enough challenge against Naoya when the time came. They were all against him, his own family and kin. He had no allies.

Finally, you turned around in his arms and buried your face into his chest, where it allotted you feelings of security. Naoya seemed less like the cruel son of this prideful clan and more like a hurt child begging for security. One who lost all trust and attachments. You could imagine him as the young boy he once was, eyes rubbed red and raw, with no one to protect him. It made your heartache.

“I am with you, always, because I love you.”

His kiss wasn’t turned away. You allowed his affection, embraced and deepened it. Your body began to grow hot. You rolled over on top of him and boldly slipped your nightgown off. It was unexpected at first, but Naoya caught on.

You weren’t quite sure what you were doing, only that you wanted to prove some point to him. Both of you were poor souls in age-old clans.

It was a full moon tonight. The ethereal light pooled across the bed and illuminated your naked bodies. What was he so excited about? Was it your desire for him? Naoya marveled at the highlights that emphasized the sloping lines of your form, open and bare, for him to see. 

“You bewitch me.” Naoya easily flipped himself on top. He softly squeezed your waist, eliciting a surprised yelp from you. Before you could squirm away, two fingers drag between your soaked folds back and forth before dipping in and pumping slowly. “You’re so beautiful. So wet and ready for me. Do I make you feel good?”

You moaned affirmations and arched into Naoya’s palms, bliss washing over all the nerves in your body. This was the man your body yearned for. You cried out again when he entered you. His fullness filled you with completion.

Naoya’s moans were beautiful, you thought. It was because of you.

“I can never let you go,” Naoya muttered. His hands grabbed at the back of your thighs, pushing your legs over. Deeper sensations were being dragged out each time he rocked his hips into you. “I want to see you…round and with my child,” he rasped and fucked you harder.

Moans mixed with the lewd sounds of skin slapping and squelches. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, mind in a blur all you could do was chant his name over and over again. Naoya, Naoya, Naoya.

You came hard, trembling as release washed over you. Naoya held onto you tightly, embracing you like a treasure he could never part with. 

--

Before your second anniversary, breakfast with the rest of the main Zenin family ended with your nausea acting up aggressively. You barely began your run for the washroom when a painful lurch launched all the contents you ate out of your mouth. It was entirely miserable, and some of the other family members scorned how crude your behavior was, completely out of conduct. But thank goodness Akiko was there to assist you back to your room while the other servants cleaned up the mess made.

The clan doctor was called in and moments later, you saw Naoya rush into the bedroom and come towards you in big steps. He wrapped his arms around you, scooping you up securely into a spin.

"I have an heir," he announced to you in excitement. "You are with child."

Pregnancy. It explained all the changes and oddities that were happening to your body: the missed period, the altering physique, the lethargy, and the racing thoughts that would cross your mind more frequently than ever before.

Naoya let go and took a seat on the bed next to you while he watched you hesitantly place a hand over your belly that had yet to show signs of the growing life within. He felt a surge of pride imagining what his family would look like when the child was going to be born. A new potential heir to the main line hadn't been born in years. With Naobito as the current head, Naoya felt sure that he would be next in line, and once his son was born, it would be a clear lineage of succession no one else in the clan could argue against. That man's son, Megumi, shall never have any claim to any piece of the clan. Naoya would make sure of that.

All the arguments that had ever conspired between the two of you seemed to disappear in an instant. None of them really mattered because, at the end of the day, you were his wife, carrying his child.

#naoya x reader #zenin naoya x reader #naoya smut #yandere jjk #jjk x reader #naoya x reader smut #tw noncon #tw dubcon #tw naoya #emi.freshtea

[comphy-and-cozy]

The Mystery of Love - Andrei Svechnikov

Pairing: college!Andrei Svechnikov x fem!OC

Summary: Boston University senior Vivian Adams is the quintessential Miss Terrier - President of her sorority and star student, with big aspirations waiting for her as soon as she crosses the stage at graduation. What will happen when she gets paired with her ex-boyfriend and BU’s hockey star, Andrei Svechnikov, for the biggest project of her college career? College AU.

Word Count: 11.8K

Author’s Note: I wrote this for @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 for @antoineroussel’s Winter Fic Exchange! I won’t lie, when I first received my match I had a minor (major) freak out (Demi can confirm). I admire you and your writing so much, Nat, and I was petrified of creating something for someone I think is one of the best writers on this site. Thank you for (unknowingly) challenging me to create something that felt worthy to gift to you. I hope you enjoy!

Huge S/O to Demi for beta-ing, dealing with my thousands of messages, and reminding me to be more confident in myself. And to @suitandtys for her endless support and being a sounding board (+ for the 90210 inspiration). 🖤

Warnings: Language, alcohol use/mention, smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), some angst, some fluff, brief mentions of/references to anxiety, Greek life themes/mention.

NHL Masterlist / Moodboard

When Vivian Adams met Andrei Svechnikov, she had no idea just how much he would impact her. Sure, he was handsome—anyone could see that—but he was also sweet, charming, and incredibly caring, and he understood her in a way that others couldn’t. He might not have been her “ideal type”, but he certainly became the one that made all of the others irrelevant. 

If she thought about it, it was no surprise how she fell for him as fast as she did. He lived in the dorm building next to hers, discovered at some “Back to School Bash” during their freshman year at Boston University. It was awkward, but so was everyone there, searching for connections to make with people that would very likely shape their college experience as Terriers. 

Vivian stood uncomfortably to the side with her roommate and a few others from their dorm, doing her best to mingle with other nervous freshmen. There were only so many times she could ask, “Where are you from?” and “What’s your major?” before she started to go insane.

But then, a tall, handsome boy approached her to join his volleyball team, gesturing to the sand court behind him. Andrei. All he needed to do was smile, and Vivian was gone. Soon enough, they were meeting for breakfast at the cafeteria, having weekly lunch in between classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays after psych lecture hall, and meeting up to study in the common room of her dorm with their other friends.

The friendship came quickly, and the romance wasn’t far behind. Andrei found comfort in Vivian’s soft smile and innocent nature, while Vivian felt at home in Andrei’s warmth and his inner child. It was like a movie, the pretty girl paired with the athlete, though instead of the football team’s star quarterback, he was a grungy hockey player. Regardless, he certainly had the good looks of the leading man, with prominent muscles and a dimple that could melt anyone’s heart. When Vivian joined a sorority and began climbing the social ranks of Terrier Nation, having a handsome athlete for a boyfriend certainly didn’t hurt her standing.

Their relationship made it through the summer, a difficult distance since Andrei went back to Russia to spend time with his family. Through regular video calls and frequent texts, they maneuvered the time difference as well as they could have, trying to enjoy their breaks while still looking forward to when they could be together again in Boston.

Despite the familiarity of campus and routines, fall semester of their sophomore year brought new challenges: more advanced classes, an Alpha Zeta leadership position, a part time job, and heightened expectations of a big year for BU men’s hockey. Andrei and Vivian carried the wisdom of sophomores who had learned lessons the previous year, but still had the naïveté of 19-year-olds navigating their newfound freedom. Their reunion after a summer apart was wonderful, but the feeling was short lived.

Between the hockey schedule, extracurricular obligations, and their regular coursework, Andrei and Vivian struggled to find free time to spend together. More often than not, their schedules conflicted; when Andrei was free, Vivian had class; when Vivian had a break, Andrei had practice. It became increasingly frustrating, only having time together at night, and even then, Andrei often fell asleep moments after his head hit the pillow.

Change was inevitable, but that didn’t mean they weren’t dreading it. 

The day they broke up was dark. Literally. It was storming outside, rain falling in heavy sheets as students ran for cover under their umbrellas and the awnings of campus buildings. Having forgotten her umbrella that day, Vivian got back to her dorm room drenched. With a rare two free hours before her herNetwork (an organization for women in business) meeting, she planned to take a nap before heading early to the library to knock out an assignment, but was instead met with Andrei waiting anxiously at her dorm.

Truthfully, Vivian had been feeling distant from Andrei, too, but genuinely hadn’t had any time to think about it between her Alpha Zeta obligations, planning the herNetwork fundraiser, and heading into the last stretch of the semester before winter break. Andrei was equally busy with travel, his season in full swing, along with keeping up with the rest of his schoolwork, but he couldn’t deny that the distance from Vivian was tearing him apart.

It wasn’t what she expected when she saw him, dark circles under his eyes and an uneven, patchy shadow of hair growing along his jawline. But as he sat on the edge of her bed, sadness in his eyes, it was both of their hearts that broke that day.

In the end, it was a mutual decision; not for lack of love, but simply due to the rift that had grown between them as their other responsibilities took priority. Andrei held her as she cried, staining his faded BU Hockey t-shirt with her tears. Their last hug was warm, but bittersweet, as Vivian did her best to soak in the last traces of his cologne on her sweatshirt.

Vivian wasn’t bitter, or even regretful; the only thing she regretted was that it hadn’t worked out. Andrei was such a kind, wonderful person, humble despite having every reason not to be, and she knew he’d have success wherever he went. Truth be told, she hadn’t really thought much about their future, past their wonderful BU bubble, but after they broke up, she realized how different their paths were. Andrei was destined to be an NHL star, while Vivian would surely make Forbes’ 30 Under 30 list at some point. Their lives just didn’t mesh – and she had to come to terms with that.

Two years later, Vivian was in the last semester of her senior year, fulfilling and exceeding every expectation set in front of her. President of her sorority and herNetwork, star student, expecting to graduate summa cum laude with a double major in Business and Finance and undoubtedly multiple full-time job offers, Vivian Adams was the quintessential Miss Terrier. 

Andrei was also in his last semester, though his college career had taken him on a much different path, focused almost solely on hockey. Drafted by the Carolina Hurricanes, he hoped to have a record senior season before heading to Raleigh to live out his dream of playing in the NHL. The Bachelor’s degree in Business was just a backup, a safety net, should things not work out. But, given that he was a shoe-in for the Hobey Baker and already expected to be a Calder finalist in his first season, his future seemed all but cut out for him.

As their social circles had drifted apart over time, Vivian and Andrei didn’t see each other much, the run-ins at bars and parties less than frequent but not entirely nonexistent. Their ties to the business school kept them in each other’s lives, albeit on the fringes, often passing each other in the hallways on the way to class. Though they rarely spoke outside of the occasional smile or wave, they had a few classes together over the years, a familiar comfort having him in the back of the classroom.

So, Vivian wasn’t overly surprised to walk into her capstone class to find Andrei already seated in the last row, scrolling on his phone. She settled into her own spot, across the room from him, just out of habit, though she offered a small smile when he looked up from his phone and saw her looking at him. 

‘Nervous’ wasn’t quite the proper word to use to describe how she felt about her capstone class, but it was close. As she listened to Professor Janes explain the partnered project, she became increasingly anxious and excited to get started. An intimidating semester-long project, surely the biggest one of her college career, it included bidding for company-sponsored projects with varying focuses ranging from marketing to strategy to operations, all ultimately culminating in a presentation of the proposal and recommendations in front of the company’s executives at the end of the semester. No doubt a successful presentation could result in a potential job offer, or at the very least, very crucial networking for a young professional about to head into the real world. In short, a lot of close personal time with whoever she was paired with, and a lot riding on their mutual partnership. 

Then, add in the fact that Professor Janes mentioned she’d be assigning partners rather than letting them select their own, an additional layer of suspense tacked on. Her justification was, unfortunately, sound, being that they wouldn’t have the luxury of picking their teammates and coworkers in the ‘real world’, and it was important to learn how to work with someone you may not know very well.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—for Vivian, she knew her assigned partner a little too well and nearly dropped her phone when she received the email from Professor Janes later that week. She read it over three separate times, part of her in disbelief when she saw her partner’s name listed beside hers.

Adams, V. / Svechnikov, A.

Then she saw his name pop up in a text, and she knew it was real.

[Andrei Svechnikov:] Well this is gonna be fun [Andrei Svechnikov:] Should we meet for coffee to talk about it? [Andrei Svechnikov:] The project, I mean

With a deep breath, Vivian’s eyes traced over his name in her phone, a brief but powerful rush of memories flying through her. Somewhere along the way—she didn’t remember when—she’d changed his name from ‘Drei 💖’ to his full name, sans emoji. Looking at it now, so formal and impersonal, it made her heart ache just a little bit.

[Vivian:] Brian’s at 2pm tomorrow?

January 

Coffee wasn’t awkward, but it was the first time they’d spent real time together since they broke up two years prior. To Andrei, Vivian had only gotten more beautiful in time, her confident nature making her even more attractive as she’d grown up; seeing her up close only solidified his thought with her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders. She still wore the same perfume—wafting into his senses even from afar as she approached—and Andrei had to distract himself from the rush of feelings that flooded his system at the scent by waving to a friend passing by behind her. 

“Some project, huh?” he asked, watching her slide into the high-top stool across from him. 

Vivian glanced at him and shook her head in disbelief. “It’s an awesome project. Real world problems for real world companies—it’s such good exposure. It’s just also, you know, kind of petrifying at the same time, for the same reason.”

“I’m paired up with the smartest girl in the program,” he grinned. “I know I’m gonna be fine.”

Vivian rolled her eyes, brushing off his compliment. “You’re smart, too, Andrei.”

“I’m a hockey player,” he said with a shrug. “I’m only as smart as I need to be, and as long as it doesn’t interfere with competing for the Natty.”

“Andrei, this is the most important project of our lives. I need you to be as smart as possible, not only as smart as you need to be. You may already have your next step laid out for you, but I don’t have that luxury. Not all of us can be prospects for an up-and-coming NHL team.”

His eyebrow quirked, amused at her worry. “You know about that?”

He watched Vivian’s eyes widen slightly, shifting uncomfortably as she admitted to following news about Andrei even after they’d broken up. She cast her eyes down, thumb running along the seam of the cardboard sleeve on her coffee cup, as if searching for an excuse. “It’s hard not to know.”

“But you still did your research. The Canes aren’t even in the Bruins’ division.” He grinned again, pleased with her admission and the knowledge that she’d gone out of her Boston bubble to investigate his future plans. “You looked me up!”

With a roll of her eyes, she nudged his leg with her foot. “Shut up. Of course I did.”

Feigning pain, Andrei grabbed his ankle with both hands, giving a dramatic cry. “Ouch! You better be more careful around these superstar legs.”

“Can we talk about the project now?” she sighed, shaking her head at his antics. Andrei conceded, though he noticed the small smile that played at the corner of her lips as she pulled her laptop out of her bag, pleased at his ability to still make her laugh.

February

After selecting their project—a review of an eCommerce site’s operations and subsequent marketing plan—it was easy for Vivian to morph into planning mode, creating a project timeline and documenting each necessary step to get there. From there, they worked together to divvy up the work, scheduling weekly meetups at the library to review and discuss their findings and any hiccups. 

Andrei was unexpectedly easy to work with, accepting the pieces she assigned him without complaint. Sure, he was still more committed to hockey than the project, but he still managed to complete his work (almost always by the deadline), and usually with minimal nudging on her end. He was a hard worker, always had been; she saw it every time he stayed late after practice to work on his one-timer, or the time he spent studying at the library, his thermos of tea gone cold beside him while he worked on his flashcards. He was smarter than she remembered, too, certainly not relying solely on her brain but contributing his own valuable insight and analysis to the project, even pointing out a hiccup she would have otherwise missed.

A lot had changed in two years, but Vivian was surprised to find that many things stayed the same, too.

Andrei still had the same endearing laugh, the one that made his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and the same goofy sense of humor and positive attitude that she fell in love with. He still stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth when he concentrated hard, and sometimes still muttered to himself in Russian when reading an English article. 

Vivian was equally surprised that he still remembered her coffee order. About three weeks into their weekly library meetings, he started bringing a fresh cup for her—iced, with toffee nut syrup and a splash of almond milk—occasionally adding something different, like cold foam or an extra pump of vanilla syrup. It was a sweet gesture, something she continually offered to pay for, that he would wave off and smile, saying ‘it was the least he could do’ because she was the one keeping the project afloat.

Mostly, Vivian was startled by how easily she fell back into stride beside him. Things were different; she’d changed, and so had he, but the foundation of their relationship was still strong, having weathered the storm of time. While part of her felt like she was getting to know him all over again, there were parts of her that felt like she was reuniting with an old friend—and in some ways, she supposed, she was.

Having Andrei thrust back into her life wasn’t something she was expecting, and she was unprepared for how having him in such close proximity would affect her. Though they were amiable, she tried to keep him at arm’s length out of pure precaution, keeping the majority of conversation about the project and surrounding schoolwork. But, of course, it was only inevitable that there were extra details thrown in now and again; a synopsis of his latest game, his brother’s success in the NHL, his upcoming Finance exam. 

As the weeks went on, she began to piece together the parts of him that she’d missed, adjusting to the way it felt to have him reclaim a regular place in her life. The details of him that she’d forgotten, like his missing tooth and the way his hair flipped out slightly at the ends when it got long, came trickling back into her conscience, unexpected but not entirely unwanted.

On the nights where their project work went late, Andrei would walk her home, refusing to let her walk on campus alone at night. They’d laugh, tell stories, joke around about the crush Andrei had on Professor Janes. It was subtle, patient, slow in the way the rift between them began to shrink, a small but crucial crack in the hardened shell around their hearts. 

The project itself was going swimmingly. It was everything else surrounding the project that was confusing.

Andrei was deep in an article about eCommerce operations, Vivian typing away across from him, when the buzzing of Andrei’s phone startled them both. With a glance at the screen, Andrei grimaced when he saw his Coach’s name appear. Sending an apologetic glance in Vivian’s direction as he stood, he stepped toward the door to take the call in the hallway.

“Hey, Coach. I’m at the library. What—?”

“I just got the midterm reports, Svechnikov. A ‘D’ on your Finance exam?”

Andrei’s eyes closed and he sighed, bringing a hand to his temple. “I know, it was a bad exam.”

“I don’t have to remind you what failing your classes looks like for both this team and your future.”

“I know, Coach. I hear you.”

There was an edge of empathy in the otherwise cool frustration of his Coach’s voice. “I understand that it can be difficult to juggle school and sports, but the rest of your teammates are doing just fine.”

Andrei choked out a weak I’m trying, doing his best not to give his Coach unnecessary attitude.

“Get a tutor if you have to. Playoffs are only a month away, and I need you to have your shit together. Okay?”

“Okay,” Andrei sighed.

“I’m serious, Svechnikov.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Okay. See you at practice later.”

“Yeah. See you.”

With another frustrated sigh, Andrei hung up the phone and ran a hand through his hair while he composed himself. When he moved back toward the door, he noticed that it was cracked open and prayed that Vivian couldn’t hear his conversation. 

“Everything okay?” she asked once he came back in, not glancing up as she continued typing on her laptop.

“Yeah,” he smiled, settling back into his seat and returning his attention to his own laptop screen, though he couldn’t bring himself to resume his article perusal, staring blankly at the cursor on his document. 

There was a moment of pause as Andrei assumed Vivian bought his lie, his Coach’s voice echoing in his head. Then, her voice broke the silence. “Does your coach always call you to ask about your exams?” 

Andrei’s eyes shot to hers, a mix of surprise and embarrassment flooding his body as he realized she’d heard the conversation. Fuck.

“It’s nothing,” he said with a half smile, attempting to brush off the encounter nonchalantly.

“Andrei,” Vivian said softly. The warmth in her brown eyes told him that she saw right through him, just like she always did.

There was another pregnant pause as he debated if he should open up, a pivotal turning point in their relationship coming upon him all at once. Something unseen inside of him pushed him to go on, and reluctantly, he admitted, “My grades are… bad. If I fall below a 2.6 GPA, I’ll be on academic probation and I can’t play.”

“What are you at?”

“2.74.”

Vivian was unable to stop the sharp intake of breath at his confession, which caused Andrei to look at his lap bashfully. He wrung his hands together, twisting them as he sat in his discomfort and shame, embarrassed in front of his ex-girlfriend who had only ever received one ‘C’ in her life. It was a miracle she’d ever been interested in him, the dumb jock, in the first place, only logical for the smartest girl in school to move on to someone bigger and better than him.

“I’m working on it,” he said quickly, in defense of himself. “It was just a bad exam. I’m shit at Finance. It’ll be fine.”

She didn’t have to say anything, instead watching him understandingly, reading right through his confident facade. Her eyebrows raised, silently telling him she knew he was feeding her bullshit, and before he knew it, the words were spilling out of his mouth, a confession of his guilt and worry for his future. He had made the decision to stay in school, finish his degree before heading to the NHL despite the fact that he would’ve been eligible after his junior year. He felt like a failure, delaying his hockey career to get a degree that, at that point, he wasn’t even sure he was capable of getting, afraid of flunking out before the semester’s end—in which case, all of it would have been a waste.

“I’ll help you.”

“You what?”

“I’ll help you. I can tutor you.”

“Viv, you don’t have to—”

“Andrei,” she said firmly, “my grades are tied to yours now. If you’re not doing well, then I’m not either.”

“But Alpha Zeta, and—”

“We’re already here together once a week. It’s not a big deal to add on some homework, too.”

She had a point. And she was one of the smartest in his class, majoring in Finance. It really would only just be a little extra help here and there. If he was being honest with himself, it would be silly for him to decline. 

His eyes held with hers, searching desperately for the words he could use to thank her. Nothing came, only jumbled bits of Russian and English that would surely not make any sense if he said it out loud, so instead he stood up, crossed the room, and engulfed her in a hug. She seemed taken aback, but she relaxed once he gave her a tight squeeze, a hug that was reminiscent of the last one they’d shared together two years ago.

“Thank you, Viv.”

March Tutoring Andrei came natural to Vivian, a fond parallel to all of the times they had spent studying together freshman year in her dorm. What’s more, she found herself looking forward to their study sessions—she intentionally used that term rather than ‘study date’—though she told herself it was because they were finally seeing tangible progress on the capstone project, and it felt good.

She didn’t know why she offered, or what made her blurt it out as soon as the thought arrived in her brain. She only knew that she felt an overwhelming urge to help him, to not let him fail his dreams—even if a Bachelor’s degree ranked second on that list. 

Sure, she liked the ego boost that came from being smart enough to tutor someone else, but the more they met, the more she learned that she liked Andrei best when it was just them two in a study room, free to be himself without the outside pressures of the world. Out there, he was expected to be something, as was she, but being alone with him reminded her of the Andrei she used to know and the late nights they’d spent talking about dreams and goals and aspirations in the comfort of her dorm room.

As the semester progressed, Thursdays became Vivian’s favorite day of the week. Having only two classes and a large break between them, she was typically able to get caught up on the majority of her work. Surely, it was the rewarding sense of accomplishment that made her love Thursdays and had nothing to do with the fact that Thursdays were also her weekly meetings with Andrei.

Yeah, sure, they often ended up staying at the library late into the night, chatting as they worked on the project or his latest Finance assignment. And, sure, sometimes she’d feel his eyes lingering on her when he bid her goodbye. But those were minor details, obviously. Vivian certainly didn’t look forward to hearing the sound of Andrei’s laugh and the way his dimple lit up his entire face when he smiled. And she definitely didn’t like the way he felt sitting beside her, the way his arm would sometimes brush against hers when she’d lean over to look at his textbook. 

No, Andrei absolutely, positively, had nothing to do with why Thursdays had grown on her.

The weekend before spring break was always a big party weekend, and this year, Pi Kappa Lambda’s “Life’s a Beach” party was the hot event of the season. Despite not having enough time in his schedule to formally rush and commit to a fraternity, Andrei was close with many of the Pi Kap brothers, and it had become the unofficial athletic fraternity. Needless to say, Andrei had the date marked for weeks. Pregaming at the hockey house with Jimmy Buffett on blast, he was excited for a highly-anticipated evening of drinking and debauchery.

Andrei was talking with a teammate when a group of girls walking in caught his attention. He wasn’t surprised to see Vivian there—Pi Kap was one of the top fraternities on campus, and while he had never really bought into the whole ‘social tier’ thing, he understood the importance of appearances at these types of functions. She looked good, he thought, with her safari hat, Hawaiian shirt, and those cutoff shorts that displayed her perfect legs. 

Vivian didn’t seem to notice him, engrossed in greeting her friends, but he continued to watch from across the room, admiring her commitment to the theme and, of course, the way her unbuttoned shirt gave him a view of the slope of her breasts. The more Malibu he consumed, the better she looked, unable to stop himself from glancing back over at her even as he made conversation with other people. He never approached her–partially because he was a little too inebriated to say anything that didn’t involve her tits–but, really, he was just content to watch from afar, observing the infectious impact she had on everyone around her.

Unfortunately, that also meant that he had to begrudgingly watch when she began to dance with a guy—some junior-frat-rat with a disgusting mustache on his upper lip. Andrei gritted his teeth as he watched his slimy hands make their way onto her hips, toying with the frayed end of her cutoff shorts in the way that he would have if she was still his girl. 

Andrei didn’t really know the guy—Derek, he thought his name was—but he knew for a fact that he didn’t deserve her, wouldn’t treat her the way she deserved to be treated. Did he even realize who he was dancing with? 

Had he been sober, Andrei probably would’ve written it off as two people dancing at a party, harmless, most likely meaningless. But he wasn’t sober, and Drunk Andrei was convinced that Dirty Derek would be popping the question anytime, and it drove him mad, his fingers itching to wipe that smug mustache off his face. 

Fortunately, Drunk Andrei was also smart enough to know not to interfere–or maybe it was his Coach’s voice in his head warning him not to do anything stupid before the playoffs. Either way, Andrei kept to himself and his rapidly depleting mixed drink. He’d had his opportunity with Vivian, and had thrown it away just as easily; it was his burden to bear, not hers, left to muddle whatever his feelings were for her alone.

So, instead of wallowing in his own pity, he turned his attention to the pretty blonde girl who had been flirting with him all night. Like any other 20-something-year-old boy, it was all too easy for him to forget about his long lost lover in a great pair of tits. As he kissed her, his tongue wrestling with hers against the dirty wall of the frat house, the coconut rum impairing his system was just enough to allow him to imagine she was Vivian.

April

The sound of buzzing didn’t quite wake her, but the sound of her phone falling on the floor certainly did. Startled, it took Vivian a moment to recognize that her phone was, in fact, ringing. With a groan, she heaved herself out of her cocoon and leaned out of her bed to grab the phone, an unfamiliar number flashing across the top.

Vivian silenced it, wondering briefly why they were calling in the middle of the night, and figuring whoever it was would leave a voicemail if it was really important. Glancing at the time—1:17am—she sighed in frustration when she calculated she’d only been asleep for 2 hours before being interrupted by a call that wasn’t even important. Annoyed didn’t quite do it justice.

But then the ding on her phone alerted her to a voicemail. All she had to see was “Andrei Svechnikov” on the transcription before she was hurriedly pressing the phone to her ear.

Five minutes later, she was shoving on some boots and a coat before jumping into her car to drive to the campus security office.

The parking lot was almost empty, save for the handful of campus security vehicles. When she walked inside, Vivian’s eyes connected with a blonde woman behind the desk, glancing up at the sound of the door. 

“Hi, are you Ms. Evans?” 

She nodded. “Is Andrei okay?”

“He’s alright, just had a few too many,” she explained, causing a wave of relief to rush over Vivian. She’d process what that meant later. “One of our guys found him stumbling alone and picked him up. He’s over 21, so he won’t be charged with anything; we just wanted to make sure he got home safe.”

Vivian nodded in understanding, thankful for once that campus security was doing their job—she remembered the times she’d dreaded seeing their vehicles pulling up to parties when she was younger, having to slip out of a back window more times than she’d care to count. She sat as she waited for one of the security officers to retrieve Andrei from one of the back rooms, also thankful that they’d kept their hockey team’s star player hidden from public view while he was obliterated.

The tall Russian stumbled into view, his arm sloped over an officer’s shoulder as he helped walk him down the hallway. Vivian grimaced, noting Andrei’s bright red cheeks and disheveled hair. If she had to guess, she’d bet it was Jose Cuervo that did him in; tequila always made him lose his mind. 

“Viv!” he shouted excitedly, a bright smile lighting up his face when he saw her waiting in the lobby. “You here! Did you get invite to party, too?”

She shared an amused glance with the officer before saying, “Yeah, Andrei. I got invited to the party, too. But it’s over now, so we have to go home, okay?”

Blowing a raspberry in disappointment, Andrei pouted, but agreed. “Ohhhh-kay Viv. If you say so.”

Vivian thanked the officer for helping her six-foot-something ex-boyfriend into the passenger seat of her car, set up with a spare towel just in case he couldn’t make it home without getting sick. 

“Andrei,” she said to him once his seat belt was fastened firmly against his broad chest. “Do you have your keys?”

“You so pritt… ty,” he replied, slumping over against the window, the coolness a relief against his warm skin. Vivian did her best to ignore the compliment, writing it off as drunken nonsense.

“Andrei,” she repeated, more stern this time. “Are your keys in your pocket?”

“Why? You–” Hiccup. “–you comink over?”

Vivian took a deep inhale in, swallowing her frustration before she turned to look at him. “Andrei, you need to go home. Can you get into your house? Do you have your keys?”

Whether it was the firmness of her tone or the look in her eyes, something about her third attempt made Andrei swallow thickly, blinking slowly as his hands fumbled around his pockets. Her heart sank when his hands came out empty, a frustrated sigh leaving her mouth. Back to her place it was.

Andrei mumbled mostly nonsensical Russian as she drove back to her apartment, drifting in and out of silent moments as he’d doze off. The few moments of sleep he got seemed to help only slightly as she helped get him out of the car, legs nearly buckling under his weight as she helped get him inside. 

It was only after she stepped into the living room that she realized she had a decision to make. Her bedroom was upstairs, the couch downstairs. Technically, her ensuite bathroom was much closer to her bed than the ½ bath on the main floor was to the couch, plus she knew she wouldn’t be able to hear him getting sick if he stayed downstairs.

So, begrudgingly, Vivian steered Andrei toward the stairs, thanking the powers above when he began to put one foot in front of the other to climb them. She barely had time to think about how he hadn’t been inside her bedroom since they broke up two years prior. Now with a different mattress and a different bedspread—she’d upgraded to a larger mattress once she moved into an off-campus apartment—the thought that Andrei hadn’t ever been in this bed briefly flitted across her mind before he was stumbling forward into it, falling face first into the pillow. It wasn’t exactly what she envisioned when she thought about Andrei in bed—not that she thought about that, either. Not that often, at least.

Based on the instant snoring, Vivian assumed he’d cashed out for the night, and entirely dead weight, he’d be impossible to move. So, she retrieved the small trash can in her bathroom and set it next to him, moving his head to the side in case he did get sick in the middle of the night. She tugged off his shoes and pulled an extra blanket over him since he’d fallen on top of the comforter. 

Thankful that her housemates were all asleep—not wanting to deal with explaining why her ex-boyfriend was asleep in her bed—Vivian retrieved an extra glass of water, along with a few extra Tylenol from the cabinet to set on the nightstand beside him. She tugged off her own coat and shoes before crawling into bed, unfamiliar with the dip he created in the mattress.

“Viv?”

The sound of his slurred voice and thick accent startled her, surprised that he was still conscious. 

“Hm?”

“Did you kiss him?”

“Kiss him? Kiss who?”

Andrei was silent for so long that Vivian thought he’d fallen back asleep. “D… Derek.”

“Derek?”

“From party... Beach party.”

The memory came flooding back, her vodka-infused night at Pi Kappa Lambda a few weeks back blurry but still recollectable. She didn’t know he’d seen her indulging in the warm touch of her dance partner, but what Andrei didn’t know was that though she was dancing with Derek, it was flashes of a tall Russian that filled her mind, imagining it was him running his hands along her sides. And when her fleeting sobriety returned to her in flashes, and she realized it wasn’t Andrei, she couldn’t bring herself to go home with him despite the throbbing need between her legs. 

“No, I didn’t kiss him, Andrei.”

Andrei hummed. “Good.”

Despite her foggy memory, Vivian couldn’t ignore the pang she felt in her heart as the image of Andrei kissing the pretty blonde Delta Phi in the corner, his lips no doubt working their sinful magic against hers. How could Andrei be bothered by her dancing with someone when he’d been doing the same with another girl?

“But you kissed that girl.”

He hummed again, this time accompanied by a loose wave of his hand. “Yeah. But was finkink… was finking ‘boutchu.”

In the pause that followed, as she tried to process what Andrei had said, the end of his sentence was soon punctuated with a loud snore. Not that she would have even known what to say to begin with, confused, disappointed, and relieved all at once. As she listened to his uneven but deep breathing, she pondered his words in his head until she fell asleep, the warmth from his body shielding her from the cool air in the room.

The next morning, she awoke to the sound of Andrei groaning loudly. What she saw when she opened her eyes, though, was not what she expected. Somewhere in the middle of the night, he’d stripped off his sweatshirt and his shirt, his chest entirely bare save for the familiar silver cross that hung from his neck. Before she could stop herself, her eyes were trailing down the muscles of his pecs, down the line of his abdomen, admiring that he was in even better shape than he had been when they were together. 

Fortunately, Andrei didn’t notice, instead busy rubbing his eyes and wincing at the movement. “Oh, fuck. Feel like got hit by truck.”

His accent and lack of pronouns were endearing, and she nodded toward the glass beside him. “There’s water and some medicine on the table. You should take it.”

With his eyes still closed, Andrei mumbled a thank you, groping blindly for the pills. Instead of grabbing them, though, he knocked the glass over, spilling water all over her nightstand and the floor. “Fuck. M’sorry.”

With a sigh, Vivian heaved herself out of bed, grumbling under her breath as she went to retrieve a towel. She refilled his glass with water from the faucet, thrusting the cup into his hands a little more forcefully than she intended. 

For a moment, the only sound in the room was that of him gulping down half of the glass, quenching only a portion of the Hungover Drought in his mouth. Breathing heavily, he laid his head back and shut his eyes tightly.

“Did we… ?”

Vivian resisted the urge to laugh, instead raising her eyebrows in an amused way. “You could barely walk, let alone make any specific body parts function.”

He hummed, then, “What happened?” 

“I don’t know. You had a lot to drink. I got a call from campus security at one in the morning to come pick you up.”

Andrei shut his eyes again; whether he was racking his brain for a memory, or willing away his hangover, she wasn’t sure. He let out a deep groan, the kind that she could practically feel the vibrations from.

“Come on,” she urged, nudging his shoulder gently. “Can you stand up? I’ll take you back to your apartment. By the way, you lost your keys.”

Andrei groaned loudly, fumbling in his pockets before he let out another. “Fuck, I lost my phone, too.”

“It’s over here, charging. It was almost dead last night,” Vivian explained, unplugging it and handing it to him. With one eye open, Andrei squinted at the screen to send a text to his roommates to see if someone could let him in.

They sat in silence for a moment, Andrei’s eyes closed tightly as he did his best to will away his hangover. Vivian listened to the sound of his breathing, doing her best not to glance at the way the muscles in his core rippled as he breathed. 

“Viv,” he said softly, glancing at her as if afraid of how she’d answer. “No one’s answering.”

With a heavy sigh, Vivian rolled her eyes and threw her head back in frustration. “Of fucking course they’re not.”

“It’s not my fault!”

“You’re the one who lost your keys and got yourself in this situation,” she shot back, standing up. 

“Where you going?” 

“If you’re going to stay here, you might as well shower. Might help you feel better. Hopefully they’ll answer by the time you’re done so I can get on with my day.”

“If you’re going to be so cranky, why did you even come last night?” he asked.

“Because I got a call from campus security at one in the morning, Andrei. Scared the shit out of me. I thought you were dead or something, but instead you were just obliterated out of your mind. Great time to get belligerently drunk, by the way, two days before our presentation. You should be grateful they didn’t charge you with public indecency or something.”

“Oh, yeah, because I definitely got picked up on purpose–”

Vivian scoffed, rolling her eyes. She tossed the towel at him, purposefully covering up his bare chest so she didn’t have to keep looking at it. 

“Why did you even have them call me? I’m not your–” she swallowed the word girlfriend, “– you have other friends. Teammates.”

It was Andrei’s turn to scoff, ignoring her question in favor of sitting up and pausing for a moment to let the lurching in his skull subside. She watched his long fingers massage his temples, though she knew it wasn’t helping by the way his brows furrowed on his forehead.

“I didn’t tell them to call you,” he finally said. “They called because you’re still my emergency contact.”

“I’m what?”

He shrugged. “My parents and brother obviously aren’t here. I just never changed it.”

Vivian didn’t know if she was touched, or annoyed, or sad—or maybe all of the above. At the end of the day, she had still dropped everything to make sure he was safe; would always come if he needed her to. No matter what she did, she couldn’t deny that she cared about him, deeply.

As he showered, she pondered what all of it meant. And when she dropped him off, making sure he was safely inside his house before driving off with a wave, it hit her so hard she had to pull over on the side of the road.

She wasn’t sure if it was a still, or an again, the details not mattering much. All she knew is that she was in love with Andrei Svechnikov. 

While everyone else was preparing for the end of the semester and exam season, Andrei’s season was approaching its peak as BU prepared for the Frozen Four. As anticipated, his name had been announced as one of the three finalists for the Hobey Baker, adding an additional layer of pressure to his game. Although he already had been drafted and had his future in front of him, he couldn’t deny that it’d be extremely flattering to win the award—but he’d trade it without a second thought if it meant he could raise the championship trophy with his teammates.

The increased training meant less time to study and complete his homework, which also meant less time with Viv—though, as their presentation day grew closer, their communication amped up naturally. Andrei found that he was willing to put off the rest of his work in favor of focusing on the project, in part due to it being such a large portion of his grade, but largely because he couldn’t stand the thought of disappointing Vivian. 

Before he knew it, presentation day had arrived. Andrei made Vivian promise that she’d get a good night’s sleep—and she claimed she did, though Andrei noticed that she’d made changes to the slideshow at 12:06am, no doubt combing through every inch one last time.

They were driving together to CyberComm’s headquarters, a large high-rise in downtown Boston. Andrei met at Vivian’s apartment, waiting patiently while she checked her bag to ensure the flash drive with the extra copy of the presentation was tucked safely in the pocket. As he waited, he smiled when he noticed the vase of flowers sitting on the kitchen table; a ‘thank you’ he’d sent after the campus security fiasco. He also couldn’t help but notice that although Vivian was dressed professionally, he was pleased that her attire revealed the slightest sliver of skin on her chest, instantly reminding him of the cleavage he’d caught a glimpse of at the Pi Kap party. 

Vivian drove to the office, allowing Andrei to continue casting glances at her as she navigated traffic. His eyes slid over the shape of her lips, the dip of her nose, the way her dark hair spilled over her shoulders in luxurious curls—the ones that, in his opinion, always made her look like a model. She was beautiful.

Not that his opinion on the way she looked had ever wavered, even after they broke up. He had always thought she was pretty, and had since the first time he saw her during freshman orientation—it was half the reason he’d asked her to join his volleyball team. But something about the way the sun lit up her skin, casting a glow over her made his heart beat just a little bit faster. She was confident in herself, but not cocky; essentially, everything he aspired to be as an athlete. Even two years removed from their relationship, Vivian was still inspiring him to be a better person.

Once they arrived at the office, Vivian checked in at the front desk. While they were waiting for Sherry, the Executive Assistant to the CEO, to retrieve them in the lobby, Andrei’s nerves began to kick in. They sat in silence, Andrei running through his script in his head until the warmth of Vivian’s palm on his leg brought him back to reality.

She offered a smile that reassured him, only just then realizing his leg had been bouncing as he waited in his nerves. His heart raced, though he wasn’t sure if it was from the sight of a woman walking toward them, or from the touch of Vivian’s hand on his thigh. Either way, he didn’t have time to think about it, for the woman approaching them introduced herself as Sherry, offering to show them upstairs.

Sherry led them to a conference room with a long oak table and floor-to-ceiling glass walls, like an office straight out of Succession. Andrei admired as he watched Vivian channel her sorority recruitment charm as they were introduced to the CEO, VP of Sales, VP of Marketing, and VP of Operations. Vivian, he knew, was doing her best to ignore their decorated titles and the weight riding on making a positive impression; if she was as nervous as he was, she didn’t show it. Professor Janes sat on the other side of the table, offering an encouraging smile as Andrei set up their presentation and Vivian handed out the prepared booklets to each of the attendees.

Vivian’s voice wavered slightly as they started, but by the third slide, she was her normal, charismatic self, her practiced speech coming off as confident and rehearsed but not memorized. Andrei stumbled once or twice, a pink blush coating his cheeks as he smiled through it, glancing each time at Vivian for silent encouragement.

Thirty minutes later, the presentation was done, as were the onslaught of questions from each of the panelists. The VP of Operations, Janet, was the first to stand up to shake both of their hands.

“Thank you, Miss Adams and Mr. Svechnikov. I have to say that this has been one of the best, most professional presentations we’ve seen yet. Very well done.”

Andrei could barely contain his grin, thanking her and Professor Janes as Vivian tucked her laptop in her bag. Andrei led the way out the door with one final “thank you.” Once they were in the hallway and far enough from the door, he was spinning on his heel to lift Vivian up into his arms.

“We did it!” he exclaimed, spinning her around. “We fucking did it!”

“Andrei! Keep your voice down!” she scolded, though it was punctuated with a giggle that nearly punched Andrei in the gut.

“God, you were amazing,” he said, quieter this time as he set her down. “When they asked that last question about the inventory tracking, I completely froze. You are fucking incredible.”

“I know it inside and out,” she said, brushing off the compliment. “You did great, too, Andrei. I’m proud of us.”

“One of the best they’ve ever seen,” he mused, nudging her shoulder. “Put that on your resume, Viv.”

“Too bad you can’t use that skill in the NHL,” she joked.

—

Andrei barely had time to bask in the success of the presentation before he was on a plane to St. Paul for the college hockey championship tournament. Being a hockey school, his professors were more than understanding with their deadlines, many of them offering well wishes before he left for the short but significant tournament. 

As soon as he arrived, he was flooded with interviews in advance of the Hobey Baker announcement that was to take place before the game. Either way, it—both the media and the ceremony—was all a big distraction to Andrei; he had his sights set on a different trophy that was far more important than any individual award he could win. But, remembering his media training, he put a smile on his face and channeled his inner Vivian Adams.

When they called his name announcing him the winner of the award, Andrei was bashful and gracious, only allowing a smile once he was back in the locker room with his teammates who were waiting to congratulate him after the ceremony. A minor celebration—just the way he wanted it—before they were back in the zone, preparing for the semifinal game against Notre Dame. Truthfully, he was glad the award was done and over with, though he knew the questions would continue to come even once he made it to the NHL. 

After a hard-fought game—and a two point game for the Hobey Baker winner—the Terriers emerged victorious. Coach granted them the night to celebrate, though Andrei was very conscious of his alcohol intake; if all went according to plan, he’d be able to really celebrate in two days’ time, once he had the trophy in hand.

The night before the championship, Andrei tossed and turned, eventually dozing off into a dreamless sleep. He awoke the next morning to a text from Vivian, feeling a tug at his heart when he saw the familiar emojis next to her name; something she’d added herself at some point during freshman year and he’d never bothered to change them.

[Viv 😍🥰❤️‍🔥🎀🌼:] Congratulations, Mr. Hobey Baker! Good luck today! Bring home that trophy to Terrier Nation! 🐶

It was the only time Andrei allowed himself to be smug; something about Vivian being proud of him awoke the unfamiliar emotions in him. If Andrei thought hard enough, he’d have put two and two together then, but when he looked back on that day in later years, he’d blame it on the pressure of the game that made him blind to his feelings.

Despite his qualms and reluctance for the attention, it was only fitting for it to be Andrei who scored in OT, surely a goal that would be on his highlight goal for years to come. 

The horn sounded as confetti burst from the ceiling, raining a sea of scarlet and white over the arena. Andrei’s celebration with his team was cut short when the television crew encouraged them to line up for the presentation of the championship trophy. He was jittering, full of adrenaline; the words of the announcer barely registering with him.

When he lifted the trophy over his head, grinning from ear to ear, it wasn’t his family he looked for in the stands, but Vivian. She was the first person he sought out when he got back to campus, Pi Kapp quickly throwing together a celebratory championship bash despite being the week before exams. He didn’t expect her to be there, and she wasn’t, though that didn’t stop him from sending her one—or four—too many drunk texts inviting her out.

It wasn’t until several days later, as he was lying in bed and reading through the ‘good luck’ text she’d sent him before his Finance exam, that the weight of his feelings for her came crashing down on him. He knew he wasn’t Vivian smart, but he didn’t think he was that dumb either, to be completely oblivious to the way he felt about her. 

And of course, it was just his luck that his grand revelation came to him the night before graduation day.

The buzz of Vivian’s alarm went off at 7am, but she was already lying awake, staring at the ceiling. She’d woken up around 5:30, or thereabouts, unable to sleep for the swirl of emotions building inside of her. 

It was graduation day, which brought a bittersweet sense of pride. She was excited to celebrate, to reminisce on all of her and her friends’ accomplishments over the last four years, but she was also anticipating the looming goodbye to the city that had become her home—and everyone in it.

Of course, there was one person in particular that she was dreading saying goodbye to. Now that she had come to terms with her feelings for Andrei, she’d been mulling over what to do about them—tell him, and risk her heart breaking, or keep it to herself, and wonder ‘what if’ for the rest of her life. 

Surely, she assumed, Andrei was already thinking ahead to his future, ready for the bright lights of PNC Arena, the fame and glory of the NHL, and beautiful girls lined up down the street for the chance to talk with him. He’d be signing his first contract soon, worth more money in one season than she’d make in five years. There was no way he would even be thinking about getting back together with his ex-girlfriend from his freshman year of college—not while he had the world at his feet.

Plus, there was the tiny detail that Vivian still hadn’t accepted a job offer, though she had received two to date; while one was in New York City, a fairly reasonable distance from Raleigh, the other was in San Francisco, on the other side of the country. Still, Vivian couldn’t shake the feeling that she should tell him, and she knew she’d never forgive herself if she kept it in and found out years later that he’d wanted the same.

Vivian had just finished applying her makeup when she heard a knock on the front door. Judging by the sound of it, her housemate was in the shower, and she knew the other two weren’t home, so she tightened the tie on her robe and ran downstairs to answer it. 

As she opened the door, Vivian came face to face with Andrei—or at least, face to chest. He was panting on the front porch, half dressed with his tie undone as he stood in front of her. 

“Andrei, what are you doing here? I’m trying to get ready—”

“I—you look beautiful,” he said, breathless. 

“Thank you,” she said, then repeated, “What are you doing?”

“I need to talk to you.” There was a fire in his eyes that told her it was important, so she stepped aside and let him in.

Before she could say anything, he was climbing the steps up to her room, two at a time, and she jogged behind him, confused.

“What is going on? You’re scaring me, Andrei.”

“I—I had to see you.”

She raised her eyebrows, silently asking for him to continue. He took a moment to catch his breath, then said, “I couldn’t sleep last night. I can’t stop thinking about you. I almost called you like, eight different times. And then it hit me.”

Vivian held her breath, anticipating what might be coming next, though nothing could really prepare her for the words that came out of his mouth.

“Ya lyublyu tebya,” he said.

Vivian stared at him, the foreign words hanging between them in the silence. Outside of the occasional curse word or when he was really drunk, she’d hardly ever heard him speak Russian, as he put much of his energy into learning ‘good and proper’ English once he had committed to finishing his degree at BU. “I… I don’t know what that means.”

Andrei smiled, his eyes warm as he looked at her. “I think you do.”

And she did. Vivian Adams wasn’t the smartest girl in her class for nothing. But in that moment, she wasn’t Vivian Adams, President of Alpha Zeta, Summa Cum Laude. She was just Viv. And fuck, if Viv didn’t love him too.

“Andrei…”

“God, I fucking love you,” he said, like he was unable to stop himself now that he’d said it once. “I don’t think I ever stopped. It just got hidden because you weren’t around. And then we got paired together, and I just—”

His monologue was cut off when Vivian lunged forward to press her lips against his. Suddenly, he didn’t give a single shit about what else had left to say, instead focused on kissing her back as he threaded his hands through her hair. He never wanted to stop kissing her, not now that he finally felt her perfect lips again.

For the moment, she was content to just kiss him, familiarizing herself with his mouth after being separated for so long. But when his tongue traced along the seam of her lips, she was all too eager to let him deepen the kiss, welcoming him into her mouth. Andrei’s hand gripped her jaw, keeping her pressed against him while his other hand wandered to her chest, massaging her breast over the soft fabric of her robe—the way he’d wanted to since he saw the glimpse of her cleavage at the party.

Soon enough, Vivian found herself lying on her back, Andrei’s large frame looming over her as he kissed his way down her jaw. Her hands roamed his broad, muscular back, feeling the divots of his shoulders as he held himself over her. The feeling of his mouth on the sensitive skin of her neck made her shiver, his tongue tracing the spot that always drove her crazy. Judging by the moan that slipped from her mouth, it was safe to say that spot was still a weakness.

“Andrei,” she mumbled, brain fuzzy as she searched for the words to say. “We can’t—have to—”

“I know, I know. Just give me a minute,” he pleaded against her neck, mouth making its way to her chest. “Please.”

‘A minute’ turned into ten, leaving her completely naked with his head buried between her thighs. A feral groan left his mouth when his tongue first lapped against her, instantly remembering the sweetness of the way she tasted. He’d never been a bad lover, but clearly the years apart had earned him a lot of practice, for his tongue flicking her clit sent her flying over the edge with ease. Smirking to himself, pleased with his ability, Andrei placed gentle kisses against the inside of her thighs as she came down from her high. 

“Viv,” her housemate called from downstairs, bursting her bubble sooner than she might have liked, “your parents are here.”

It only took a moment for Vivian to come out of her orgasmic haze, eyes widening as she realized the state she was in. Her eyes shot to Andrei’s, who was frozen with his lips on her inner thigh.

“Fuck,” she whispered, quickly standing up and gesturing for Andrei to straighten himself up. Then, she shouted down the stairs, “Hi, mom and dad. I’ll be down in a second—just finishing up!”

She was quick to throw on the dress she had set out, hanging completely forgotten once Andrei arrived. Her hair was only partially done, but she managed to salvage it by throwing a few loose curls in; fortunately, her head would be covered by her cap for most of the photos. 

It was only when she glanced at Andrei, wiping off the remnants of her orgasm in the sink before she realized how this would look. Obviously, this new stage of their relationship—where did this leave them?—was more than fresh; she wasn’t even sure if her parents would remember that she told them they’d been paired together for the capstone project. 

“I love you, too, you know,” she said, stepping forward to straighten his tie. He smiled, stealing another precious moment to press another kiss against her lips. “But now’s the real test—act normal with my parents down there.”

“And pretend I didn’t just have my head between their daughter’s legs?” he grinned. “Oh, baby, you know I’m a parent charmer.”

As expected, her parents’ reactions to seeing Vivian walk down the stairs flanked by Andrei was all but priceless. Her father visibly bristled, while her mother looked surprised but pleased—she’d always been a fan of Andrei.

Vivian hugged them both, apologizing for the wait and hoping they didn’t think too hard about Andrei descending from her bedroom at 8:30 in the morning. “Mom and dad, you remember Andrei.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Adams, it’s so good to see you again,” he greeted quickly, shaking her dad’s hand firmly and accepting a confused but gracious hug from her mom. “Viv and I had to submit a final analysis for our project—there was a glitch in the system.”

A weak lie, but Mrs. Adams was so pleased to see Andrei that she didn’t question it. 

“Andrei, will you be heading to the convocation center with us?”

“I’ve got to meet my family, but I’m sure my mother would love to meet you,” Andrei replied with a smile. “We’ll find you after the ceremony?”

Vivian nodded, sending Andrei off with a smile and a “see you soon,” followed shortly by an eyebrow raise from her mother once the door was closed. 

The ceremony itself was dull, but the day was a whirlwind nonetheless: many photos with friends and family (including a long-awaited introduction between the Svechnikovs and the Adamses), a boozy brunch with Alpha Zeta seniors and families, followed by a reminiscent stroll through campus, and finally a nice dinner with her family. Before Vivian knew it, it was 11pm and she was at the bar with her friends, taking celebratory shots that burned her throat. Vivian was happy, but something was missing.

And then that something came walking in, a smile on his face when he easily located her amongst the crowd. The dimple she’d always loved stood out, warmth flooding her body as he weaved his way through the throng of people toward her. 

“Hi,” she said, as if their earlier confessions left undiscussed made her suddenly shy around him.

“Hi,” he said back, mocking her a little bit with a playful smile. 

There was an elephant in the room—two elephants, really—crammed into the dimly lit room with 80’s music blaring over the speakers, but a packed bar full of fresh college graduates was hardly the place to address them. 

“You want to get out of here?” he asked quietly, jerking his head toward the door. 

Vivian didn’t have the words to describe just how badly she wanted that, instead nodding with a smile. He matched hers, following her out and completing an Irish Goodbye without a second thought.

The Uber ride back to her apartment was quiet save for the song playing softly on the radio, Vivian’s thigh pressed against Andrei’s in the backseat. His hand found hers silently, lacing their fingers in a gesture that went far beyond comfort in a dark car.

I saw you last night and got that old feeling When you came in sight, I got that old feeling The moment that you danced by, I felt a thrill And when you caught my eye, my heart stood still

Once again I seemed to feel that old yearning Then I knew the spark of love was still burning There'll be no new romance for me, it's foolish to start For that old, that old feeling is still in my heart

It felt like fate, and maybe it was, Frank Sinatra’s soothing voice warbling through the speakers about a love rekindled. Andrei hummed the same to her, softly, in the darkness of her bedroom as he took his time undressing her, unveiling each inch of her skin like it was brand new to him. 

Strong arms held her close as he laid her back against the bed, settling his body over hers before kissing her deeply. His tongue sought out her own, his hands running over her exposed skin as if he needed to re-commit it to memory. Their position was familiar, the same one they were in just over 12 hours prior, but the weight between them was much, much different.

This time, Vivian’s hands found Andrei’s slacks, palming the bulge she met with fervor and savoring the groan that left his throat. Encouraged and eager to produce that sound again, she dipped her hand beneath his waistband and wrapped her fingers around him, stroking him lightly.

“Viv,” he grunted, nose trailing along her jawline as he held himself up—barely. “Need—need to be in you.”

She agreed wholeheartedly, helping Andrei shuck his pants down his legs, joining her clothes on the floor. It was their first time being completely bare together in years, and though she shouldn’t have been surprised, Vivian was in awe of him, a sculpted Russian god in her bed. 

Andrei’s hands ran down her thighs, hoisting each of them over his hips as he settled between her legs. To slow down the moment, he pressed his forehead against hers, eyes gazing into her own before he kissed her deeply. Vivian could feel him, throbbing, bumping against the inside of her thighs, brushing against her core where she, too, was desperate to have him.

“Andrei,” she murmured softly against his lips, encouragement spoken in just a sigh of his name. 

She didn’t want him to stop touching her, whining reluctantly when he sacrificed a few moments to part his hands from her skin in favor of guiding his length toward her. Vivian had no breath left in her lungs when he finally pushed in, slowly, his considerable girth something she was no longer used to accommodating. Andrei stilled, telling himself it was so she could adjust; in reality, he needed the time just as much, fearful of busting his load far, far too early. 

No, Andrei wanted to savor this, to enjoy it. Though he’d had many partners since Vivian, none of them felt quite the way she did, squeezed him quite the way her perfect cunt did, made his balls tighten when she moaned out his name the way she did—but he hadn’t realized how much he missed her until that moment. Her skin against his lit him on fire from the inside out, and he was sure it was because of more than her body that he wanted to taste every inch of.

Andrei stretched her entirely, the feeling so incredibly delicious that all thought was absent from Vivian’s brain. All she could do was hold onto him, her hands caressing the skin of his arms, his shoulders, his back, her legs wrapped tightly around him as his hips dipped against hers. He was steady in his rhythm, patient, like he was following a beat only he could hear. 

When his lips found hers again, he drank in the moans that she offered, tugging her up toward him until they were seated and she was straddling him, unable to get close enough. His hands on her hips encouraged her to move, to drive herself toward the high she desperately sought, that he could feel in the flutter of her heat around him. With her head buried in the crook of Andrei’s thick neck, Vivian cried out as she came, her vision going fuzzy as the climax hit her like a freight train.

Andrei’s arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her closely as he, too, met his end, spilling into her waiting core with a grunt. His body was tingling, as was Vivian’s, but he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her again, doing his best to pour the love that had been forgotten for the last two years back into her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, moments later when he was lying beside her, admiring the way her body looked wrapped in the sheet, pressed against his frame. The feeling of her, snug in his arms, made everything feel right in the world. 

Vivian smiled, shy, burying her face against his chest in embarrassment. He nudged her with his shoulder, adding for emphasis, “You are.”

“Drei…”

The old nickname fell from her lips without her even realizing, familiar and warm in so many ways. Andrei smiled at it, liking the way it felt. 

Silence fell between them, comfortable as they basked in the glorious haze. Then, Vivian’s voice spoke quietly in the darkness of her room. “I don’t want this to end.”

“What do you mean?” 

“We’re both leaving BU soon,” Vivian said, not ready to burst their bubble yet, but the words just kept coming out. “And I don’t know where I’m going yet, but I have offers in San Francisco and New York, and you’re going to be this hot shot NHL star, and I’m sure your DM’s are already full of pretty girls and–”

“Viv,” he interrupted her softly. “I don’t care about that. I want to be with you.”

“But… I applied to jobs all over the place,” she fretted, hating herself for letting her anxiety ruin their perfect, blissful moment. 

Andrei paused, nudging her jaw with a finger to encourage her to meet his eyes. “I lost you once; I’m not going to do it again. I want this, and if you do too, then we’ll make it work. Okay?”

“You mean that?”

“Eto vsegda byl ty, Viv. The girl in my story has always been you.”

–

The next morning, the light streaming through the windows woke Vivian up, stretching her deliciously sore muscles before she registered the large, warm body beside her. She took a moment to watch Andrei sleep, his chest gently rising and falling with his breath, features so relaxed and peaceful. 

When she rolled over to glance at her phone, she saw the notification for an unread email. The sound of her gasp woke Andrei up, startled at the sound.

“What? Are you oka– what happened?” he spluttered, taking in her wide eyes.

Instead of speaking, Vivian simply turned her phone toward him to show him what had tears brimming in her eyes: An offer letter for a Financial Analyst position with CyberComm.

“That’s great, Viv,” he smiled. “Congratulations.”

“Andrei,” Vivian said, sensing that he didn’t quite put it together. “CyberComm has an office in Charlotte.”

“Oh.”

“Charlotte is in North Carolina.”

“Oh.” 

Her eyebrows raised, watching the realization dawn on Andrei’s face as he processed. “You’re moving to North Carolina?”

“We’re moving to North Carolina.”

Vivian didn’t know if she should call it fate, chance, coincidence, but five months later when she watched Andrei debut in his first ever NHL game, a Svechnikov jersey proud on her shoulders, she decided it was best to call it the mystery of love.

#andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #andrei svechnikov x reader #hockey fic #nhl imagine #andrei svechnikov x y/n #andrei svechnikov fanfiction #andrei svechnikov fanfic #andrei svechnikov blurb #andrei svechnikov smut #nhl fic #a. svechnikov #hockey imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey romance

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Take Your Time | Choi Yeonjun

Summary: Yeonjun asks out his Noona the first time he speaks to her and she surprisingly says yes. Pairing: fem!reader x Choi Yeonjun Word Count: 3.4k~ Warnings: Tiny bit of suggestive language and four year age gap but that's about it. a/n: Requested by one of my lovely anons. Sorry it took me so long to get it out! But trust me, there will definitely be a part two ;)

Growing up I never was one to stand out from the crowd, let alone the one anyone batted an eye at. I always thought of myself as being average, just a face in the crowd and I was okay with that. No one has ever really taken a special interest in me, so why do I find myself being chased around by a young guy named Yeonjun?

He's one that some might classify as "popular" but titles like those don't hold as much weight in college as they did in high school. No matter where I turn, if I find myself sitting in the library, eating lunch out in the sun, spending time with my small group of friends or even walking to my classes I can always see him coming. Doesn't help the fact that he's at least a head or two taller than most of the students here so it's kind of hard not to notice him.

We do have similar majors I'll give him that so we share a couple of classes and because of that I'm bound to run into him but why has he taken to me so strongly? He hasn't asked me to tutor him so he must not want to use me for my brain. Nor has he tried to hit on me, he just seems like a genuine guy who for some reason has become somewhat infatuated with me.

Maybe it's our age gap that he finds attractive, and the fact that there isn't much competition he would have to deal with. Guys like him do seem like they would want to go for older women, ones that are more experienced so to say. Little does he know that this Noona he's chasing after isn't much more than she seems.

"Noona, you dropped this!" I hear someone say and I turn to see Yeonjun holding up the pen I had just been using. "Oh thank you Yeonjun" I say and take it back getting hit with a faint jolt of electricity when our hands touch. "You know my name?" he asks clearly surprised. "Well yeah I'm your TA for this class so it's kind of my job to know everyone's name" I say laughing at his confusion.

"Oh yeah, I guess you’re right. How are you?" he asks clearly trying to find a way to continue this conversation. "I'm fine thanks, how are you?" I ask returning the sentiment. "I'm doing great. I just wanted to see if I could ask you something" he says and I can see the tips of his ears turning red which could really only mean one thing.

I hum in acknowledgment and wait for him to continue. "Do you think that maybe you might want to go on a date with me sometime?" he asks now looking down at his feet. "What was that?" I tease, hoping to ease up the tension. "Will you go on a date with me?" he says making eye contact after taking a deep breath. Looking at him a bit closer I can see how young he is and how honestly adorable he looks. He is an attractive guy so I guess one date might not hurt.

"Sure" I say with a soft smile. "Wait, really?" he says now making hard eye contact with me, searching my features to see if I actually meant it. "Yeah why not? Don't tell me you're backing out on me already" I chuckle, loving the reactions he's giving me.

"It's just that, I didn't think you would actually say yes. Does Saturday work?" he asks quickly solidifying our plans. "Saturday is fine, do you have a car or would you like me to come pick you up?" I question knowing that it's not common for a college student to have a car where we live. "I could just meet you there! I don't want you to go out of your way" he says, cheeks blushing at the thought of me picking him up instead of the other way around.

"It's okay Yeonjun, just send me the time and your address and I'll come get you" I say and hand him my phone so he can put in his number. He takes it with two hands, clearly still showing respect for my age which is a good sign and saves his name as Choi Yeonjun keeping things formal, to which I change it to Junnie making sure he sees it.

"Junnie? No one has really called me that since I was a kid" he says scratching the back of his head. "Oh it's okay I don't plan on calling you that, I just like to have cute nicknames in my phone for my friends" I say saving it and putting my phone in my pocket. "Friends huh?" He says looking a little disheartened.

"I guess we'll find out after that date" I say and ruffle his hair before I make my way to my next class. "See you later, Junnie" I say giving him a kiss on the cheek before I leave. I glance back and see that he's still facing the other way with his hand placed on the cheek I had kissed and laugh a bit at the sight. He's a cute kid.

I get a text later on in the day from Yeonjun telling me the time but for some reason he wont tell me where we're going.

'Can you at least tell me how I should dress?' I send shaking my head.

'Comfortable but not too comfortable. Some sort of jeans and t shirt combo would be good' he replies simply. 

'Oh and you might want to wear a black shirt or something because we might get a bit dirty ;)' he finishes and gives me no more information after that. I huff in semi annoyance but I'm actually quite excited to see what he might have in mind.

"Hi Noona" Yeonjun greets hopping into my car, he makes an effort to lean in towards me resting his arm against the console to balance and gives me his cheek. "What are you doing?" I giggle feigning innocence. "Noona you gave me a kiss last time" he lets out, pouting slightly at the thought of being denied the kiss that he was clearly hoping for. "Settle down and put your seatbelt on" I say laughing at him and he does as he's told but while he's busy doing so I lean in and give him a quick peck on the cheek as I had done before.

"I-" he says again placing his hand against the spot where my lips had just been, clearly catching him off guard again. "So are you gonna tell me where we're going or what?" I say sitting back in my seat and then offering him my phone to pull up the directions which he fumbles with for a second and then hands it back to me.

Once we pull up I'm surprised to see that we're in front of a pottery studio, "Really?" I say teasing him, pretending that I'm uninterested. "What you don't like it? I thought I heard you talk about the ceramics class you had last year that you really liked so I-" "Yeonjun I'm kidding, I love it!" I say grabbing his hand trying to show sincerity.

"Loosen up a bit love, I like to tease people a lot" I say giving his hand a squeeze and pulling him into the shop. "We’re gonna have to have a talk about you listening in on my conversations though" I say pretending to scold him. "I'm sorry I just wanted to make sure to take you somewhere you would like to go. Not some lame movie date" he say looking down at his shoes.

"Jun" I say hoping to bring his attention back over to me. "You really don't have to be shy with me, I promise I'm just playing around" I say hoping he'll understand me a bit more. "I'm sorry it's just, well I've never gone out with a girl that's older than me so I wanted to be respectful and we don't know each other well yet so I wasn't sure if I should be formal with you or not" he explains and I notice again how red his ears have gotten.

"Take a deep breath with me okay?" I say and encourage him to follow while we wait our turn in line and a few seconds later breathe out. "We're on a date right?" I question him to which he nods. "So let's drop some of the formality, still be respectful but you don't need to walk on egg shells around me. Got it?" I ask hoping now he'll start to loosen up. "Got it!" he says giving me a bright smile that I know is about to become one of my favorites.

As we start our pottery lesson I notice that the instructor keeps on making eyes at me and it's very apparent that Yeonjun does as well. The instructor seems to take a special interest in me and makes sure to compliment me and come to my aide when I'm struggling. Honestly isn't it unprofessional to try to flirt with customers so openly?

"Hey Yeonjun come here" I say with the intention of asking him to 'help' me. "Do you think you could help me out? My hands seems to be getting pretty shaky so it's hard for me to get it to look as nice as yours looks" I pout trying to make him feel a bit better showing him that I need him.

"Sure Noona how did you want me to..." he questions not really sure how to go about it. "Oh if you want to get behind me and place your hands on top of mine to guide me that might help" I say sneakily creating the 'Ghost' scene. He awkwardly agrees and helps me just like I asked him with his chest up against my back and him whispering in my ear praising me for getting it down so quickly which honestly has me feeling a bit flustered.

"Thank you love" I say placing another kiss on his cheek "I think I've got it from here" I say and send him back to his station and make it a point to send a tight lipped smile to the creep, making sure he saw our interaction. Even if Yeonjun and I aren't in a relationship I want to make him feel secure in himself and see that I really wanted to come on this date with him and he's the only guy I care to pay attention to.

"You okay?" I ask as we make our way out of the studio, taking a hold of his hand while we walk back to my car. "I didn't like the way that guy was looking at you" he says clenching his jaw a bit, now being given a bit more freedom to express his emotions.

"Hey, I made sure the guy knew that we were together and he did back off a bit after that so don't worry. Plus I made sure to talk to the manager about him so I don't know how much longer he'll be working there" I finish, walking over to the drivers side of the car.

"You're literally the coolest person I know Noona" he says amazed at my simple actions. "I know" I say smiling at his sentiment and get in the car and again hand him my phone for him to put in the next address for the second stop on our adventure. 

"How did you know I like rollerskating?" I question, finding his attention to detail adorable. "Well I thought I saw a bumper sticker on your car a while ago that has a pair of roller skates on it so I figured you might want to go!" he says with a bright smile, happy he was right.

"Plus it gives me an excuse to do this" he says and places his hand in mine. I find myself a little flustered at the action as this is the first time he's initiated some sort of physical touch and it somehow gets my heart racing. I guess since it's my first time going on a date in a while, him making moves on me might effect me a bit more. 

"Come on let's go!" he says cutely, excited to get started and I trail along behind him with my hand still firmly in his grasp. As we get inside I reach for my bag to find my card so I can pay for the entrance and skate rental, "No it's okay Noona I'm paying!" he says proudly swiping his card before I even have a chance to find my wallet.

"Are you sure? You already paid for the pottery class" I say feeling a bit unsure of if I should let him pay, especially since I'm older than him. "Yes I'm sure, I asked you on a date so it's my responsibly to take care of you" He says and guides me closer to the counter so we can both get our hands stamped, showing we've paid the entry fee. He takes a hold of my hand after that and leads me towards the skate rental counter to pick up ours for the day. 

"If I would've known we were coming I would've brought my skates" I say laughing at how chipper he seems. "But that would've ruined the surprise!" he says, stating the obvious. "I'll let you know next time..." he says trailing off leaving it open ended trying to see if I would want there to be a next time. "Okay, next time" I say squeezing his hand hopefully showing my sincerity.

He smiles down at me and it's just now that I'm taking into account our height difference and for some reason it has me starting to feel shy. Our eyes lock for a moment and I see him start to study my features and he glances down at my lips for a moment before the kid at the counter hands us our skates. 

We sit down to start putting them on and before I can say anything he's kneeling down in front of me helping me tie my laces. "Hey you don't have to do that!" I say laughing at his clumsiness with the extra long laces. "I know, but I want to" he says and looks up at me now almost being eye level.

My phone buzzes and I mentally groan at another interruption and check it but before I can protest he's helping me put on the other skate. "Who was that? If you don't mind me asking" he questions tentatively. "My boyfriend, he's wondering why I haven't been answering his calls today" I say rolling my eyes and throwing my phone in my purse after putting it on silent. 

Much to my amusement Yeonjun ends up choking on air and almost toppling over from his crouched down position but I end up reaching out in time to help steady him. "Boyfriend?" he says between coughs. I smile at him and see how pink his cheeks have gotten clearly embarrassed by what he believes to be new information about me. "Yeonjun, what did I say about lightening up? Of course I don't have a boyfriend, it was just someone liking my story that's all" I say rubbing his back waiting for him to stop coughing. 

"Okay good" he says clearing his throat. "Now come on handsome let's get your skates on too! This is my favorite song!" I say happily standing up to stretch a bit before kneeling down and doing the same for him. "Noona you don't-" "Shhh you helped me now let me help you" I say simply and once done I stand up to reach for his hand and take him towards the rink where 'Oh shit...are we in love?' by Valley is blasting through the blown out speakers.

Once I step onto the rink I notice Yeonjun's hesitation to do the same, flinching a bit watching someone wipeout on the polished wood. "You're fine, come on I'll teach you" I say reaching out for his hand which he reluctantly takes. 

"Have you never been roller skating before?" I ask while I guide him to the railing running across the wall that encases the rink. "I have but umm-" he's interrupted by almost slipping before I help him regain a bit of his balance, "it's been a while" he says awkwardly laughing at his efforts of recovery. We go around the rink a few times and he starts to get more comfortable with each completion.

"You think you got it now?" I question, confident that we won't have any Bambi on ice moments again. "Okay you stay here and I'll go skate to the other side and wait to see if you can skate all the way to me without using the wall. You think you can do that?" I ask hoping he's gained some confidence. "I think so" he says giving me a nervous chuckle. 

I nod and skate over to the agreed upon area and wave him over to me. He struggles for a moment or two but then my mouth drops seeing him skate towards me like a natural, even turning around and skating backward and makes a circle around me when he catches up.

"Yeonjun! That was amazing!" I say and punch him in the arm which he grabs instantly and rubs it afterwards. "Hey what was that for?" he pouts, acting like I actually hurt him. "That was for lying to me, you are really good at skating. Maybe even better than me, maybe" I say smirking at him a bit before punching him again. 

"Noona!" he whines this time actually feeling a bit of pain, "and that was for yelling at me" I say crossing my arms over my chest. "What else was I supposed to do? You caught me off guard when you punched me" he says still rubbing his "injured" bicep.

"Aww do you want me to blow on it?" I say leaning down to blow some cool air on it before I feel him grab my jaw and bring my face back up to his. "I could think of something else you could blow" he says dropping his voice and octave. Now I'm the one choking on air.

"Yeonjun!" I say scolding him to which he just laughs, watching me try to catch my breath. "Look how the tables have turned, two can play at this game you know" he says with a devious smile, now having flipped a switch. "You've just been playing the role of the quiet nervous boy haven't you?" I say making my way to get out of the rink  to go sit back down.

"Who said I was playing? I really was nervous and I still am, but you're really cool and I like the way you joke around with me so I wanted to fight back a bit. Did I escalate it too much? You just made it too easy" he says brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. 

"N-no that's fine, I don't mind, you just caught me off guard that's all" I say admitting to my shock. "Okay good. Are you tired? I was thinking that we could go and get something to eat and then maybe go to the drive ins?" he says clearly excited at the prospect of continuing the date. "No I'm not tired but I'm definitely hungry! Did you wanna get something from the snack bar or…?" I question trying to see what he had in mind.

"I actually had a place I wanted to take you to, is that okay?" he questions giving me the option. "Sure, you're two for two on the places you've taken me to so I would say that I trust your judgement" I say smiling when I see how happy he is after hearing my praises. 

"Shall we?" he says dramatically putting his arm out to escort me to the car after having returned the skates. I shake my head and smile at him while I grab a hold of him, "You're adorable you know that right?" I say looking back up at him. "Let's see how much longer you'll be calling me that" he mutters more to himself. "What was that?" I say tilting my head catching onto what he might be implying. "Oh nothing don't worry about it" he says and opens my door for me once we're back at my car.

Part 2 coming soon...

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[mermaidchan05]

Vesuvia Weekly: Putting It Together

CHOO CHOO ALL ABOARD THE ANGST TRAIN

For @vesuviaweekly 's "cooking class" event. The prompt made me think of Asra teaching the Apprentice to cook after they first woke up, which led to... well, all of this XD

Approx. 2600 words.

Featured characters: Asra and my OC Meleia (she/her), with important appearances by Faust and the stove salamander.

TW for panic attacks and flashbacks. But there IS a happy ending, and the flashback doesn't last too long.

_________________

It was amazing, really, how the smallest things had a way of leaving the biggest impact.  

After Meleia woke up with  no memories and very little control over her new body, Asra was forced to take things one step at a time.  They both were.  It always started so simple, a few shaky steps here and there, a few words that Asra recognized… but every change was important.  And it all added up amazingly quickly. Meleia was doing so well now.   

True, Meleia still had her struggles.  Crowds were debilitatingly overwhelming, she didn’t quite have the strength for going out on her own yet, and there was still a bit of a language barrier.  But so, so much progress had been made.

The next step was working on meals.  Meleia was well enough now to start cooking on her own instead of relying on Asra.  He had to admit, he was proud.

And though he would never admit it, he was decidedly nervous.

For their first official cooking lesson, they were starting with a simple dish.  Meleia loved mushrooms. And they had plenty of rice around.  So fried mushroom rice it was.  Asra hadn’t made anything like this in a while, and as far as he knew, Meleia had never made anything like it, even in her previous life.  But it seemed a safe place to start.  It was hard to mess up just throwing things together and heating them up.

Not impossible, as Asra had proven many times over.  But difficult enough to make him assume they were safe.  

But, naturally, got off to a rocky start.  And not due to any fault of Meleia’s or Asra’s.  The stove salamander was simply refusing to cooperate. 

Asra leaned closer to the grate.  “Come on, little one… we really need your help.”

The stove salamander pouted at Asra, then deliberately turned his back on him.  Asra sighed. 

Meleia put a hand on his shoulder.  Asra carefully stood up, making sure not to shake her away.

“What is it?” he asked gently.

He half expected Meleia to need help with something.  Or for her to need some support in standing up.  It was still hard for her to be on her feet for long periods of time…

But she stood tall, more than tall enough for Faust to balance happily across her shoulders.  And she was smiling.  She quickly let go of Asra’s shoulder and nodded towards the grate.

“I… can help,” she said, only slightly haltingly.  “Let me try.”

Asra couldn’t help but beam in pride.  “Of course.”

He stepped out of the way, allowing Meleia to crouch down so she was right near the stove salamander.  And she started talking to the little magical creature, her tone soft and gentle.  She was speaking a language that Asra still didn’t recognize, even after all this time. 

From the very first time she woke up, Meleia had understood Asra perfectly.  But in yet another unexpected side effect of getting an entirely new body, she had apparently fallen back into whatever her native language was.  She was still learning how to speak the common language of Vesuvia out loud, and Asra had only managed to pick up a couple of her unfamiliar words.  But they understood each other. 

And clearly, the stove salamander understood her as well as he understood anybody.  Meleia kept gently coaxing him.  The salamander was clearly a little grumpy about something.  But he wasn’t immune to Meleia’s charms.  In moments, the salamander was carefully stepping into Meleia’s offered hands.

She lifted the stove salamander up closer to her eye level, laughing fondly.  Asra’s heart thudded.  He loved that sound.  Always had.  And she looked so adorable cooing at the salamander.  Even more so when he pressed his sooty little nose against her own.  Multiple times.  The aftermath almost made her look like she had a few extra freckles.

Then Faust tilted her head.  The stove salamander looked back at her.  And Faust twisted so she was looking at Asra.

Messy stove, Faust reported.

Asra flushed a bit.  “Ah… I must have forgotten to dust out the stove again…”

Silly Asra, said Faust.

“Right.  Silly Asra.”  Asra managed another little smile.

It was far from a simple case of “silly Asra.”  Asra hated cleaning the soot out of the stove.  He didn’t enjoy dusting, either.  The dust and soot all over his hands… it brought back unpleasant memories.

But Meleia didn’t need to know that.  So he forged on.

“You keep holding him, alright?” he said, keeping his smile pasted on.  “I’ll clean up.”

“Thank you,” said Meleia, beaming at Asra.

Asra’s heart thudded.  “Thank you” was one of the first additions to her vocabulary after she started picking up the common language of Vesuvia.  And Asra was always moved when he heard it. 

She was really growing in strides.  And that made everything worth it.

Asra cleaned up as quickly as he could.  Meleia was very happy to hold onto the stove salamander.  She laughed when he scurried across her palms in little circles, and kept chatting to him in her native language.  Asra listened as he worked, focusing on the wonderful sound of her voice instead of the horrible feeling of ash on his fingers.

The moment he was done, Asra immediately washed his hands.  He couldn’t even allow himself a little sigh of relief.  He had to smile for Meleia’s sake. 

“There we are,” he said.  “All set.  Are we ready to get started?”

Meleia eagerly nodded.

At first, everything went smoothly.  The stove salamander settled into his newly-cleaned spot and got a fire started.  Meleia diligently followed Asra’s instructions.  And it was rather nice, working close together in the cozy kitchen.  It almost reminded Asra of the way things had been before.

But no.  He couldn’t allow himself to think about that.  Meleia deserved to have a choice in whom she spent time with.  Just like she deserved to choose her preferred food. 

For as long as he had known her, Meleia had never eaten any meat, though cheese and butter and things like that were fine.  As far as he knew, there was no medical reason for it.  Just a matter of preference.  So he had carefully introduced the idea of making a new choice when she first woke up.

She’d stuck with her traditional preferences.  Asra rather appreciated that.  It was good to know that some things hadn’t changed.

Still… he had to be very careful when it came to food.  Nothing triggered Meleia’s memories quite like a familiar smell.  And that made some foods very dangerous.  Asra was lucky that the pumpkin bread they both loved so much hadn’t had the same effect on her as the first time he had made them both some simple pasta with cream sauce….  

She had grown so much.  But there were some risks he simply couldn’t take.

Asra firmly shook his head, trying to stop the spiral of dark thoughts.  Meleia gave him a questioning look.  As always, Asra answered with an easy smile.

“Sorry,” he said.  “Just lost in thought.  And it looks like you’ve gotten the butter and garlic all taken care of.”

Meleia beamed at him.  “Yes.  Ready.”

Asra’s heart swelled with pride.  “Perfect.  Let’s put the mushrooms in.”

He allowed himself to squeeze even closer to Meleia, their shoulders brushing together, while they moved onto the next step in the recipe.  Which was probably part of the reason things went wrong.

The kitchen was small enough as it was.  And Asra had never been one to put things like dishes and mugs away after washing them.  What was the point, when he was just going to use them again the next day anyway?  Far more convenient to leave them near the sink.

The truly unfortunate thing was that the sink happened to be dangerously close to the stove.  So it was probably only natural that Meleia’s elbow bumped into a mug.  And, of course, said mug immediately hit the floor, shattering on impact. 

Asra winced at the sound.  His pulse spiked.  But that was nothing compared to Meleia’s reaction.  Her breath caught.  And she went utterly rigid at the sudden crash. 

Asra immediately turned his attention to her.  “Meleia, are you hurt?”

Meleia shook her head.  She crouched down, moving to clean up the mess.

Asra quickly caught her hand.  “No, don’t touch those.  Not with your bare hands.  Here… I can help.”

Meleia shook her head again, a bit more stubbornly this time.  “My fault.  I… s-sorry…”

“It’s alright,” Asra said gently.  “It was an accident.  And no one was hurt.  That’s what’s important.”

Meleia still looked utterly guilt-ridden.  “But…”

“It’s fine.”  With a flick of his fingers, Asra used a little magic to safely gather up all the broken pieces.   “See?  No harm done.”

“But… Asra…”  Meleia hesitantly reached out a hand.  “Your… most liked?”

“My favorite?” Asra clarified.

Meleia nodded.

Asra glanced at the shattered fragments.  He recognized the pattern, now.  All the air seemed to rush out of his lungs.

“Asra, I… n-not want…” Meleia choked out.  She was near tears by then.  “My fault.  I’m sorry…”

Asra couldn’t respond.  He hardly heard her.  Not over the sound of his own pulse pounding in his ears.  Of his own breathing coming far too quickly.  Of the shards of ceramic shattering further as they clattered to the floor, his magic immediately petering out in his panic.  

He was back, back in a time when Meleia was still gone.  When the world had seemed so broken, so empty.  When nothing mattered but finding a way to see her again.  And it was his fault, it was all his fault… he had left her, fought with her, abandoned her, just so she could fall to the plague.  And then… he had made so many more mistakes.

“Asra?”  

Asra had forgotten how to breathe.  His hands were shaking.  Traces of soot still lingered on his fingers.  It was just from cleaning the grate.  He knew that.  But to his eyes, the soot looked like the crimson-stained ash of the Lazaret.      

And the shards of his mug had become the even more broken fragments of Meleia’s favorite teacup.   

All he could do was stare, eyes wide, hands shaking.  A hollow pit had opened up in his stomach, nearly consuming his entire being.  He felt just like he had back then.  The cup was hers, one that Asra had never dared to use even when it was clean, since it was so special to her.  A memory of her life before Vesuvia.  It had been hers, and now it was gone, and she was gone…

Everything was gone…

“Asra…”

A gentle touch on his shoulder made Asra flinch.  He whipped around… only to see Meleia, staring up at him with eyes wide in concern.  Asra’s heart tore a little more at the look on her face.

She wasn’t supposed to see him like this.

Asra managed to take a breath.  “I’m sorry, Meleia.  I must have gotten lost in thought again…”

Faust somehow managed to scoot across Meleia’s shoulders and transfer herself over to Asra.  She gave him a gentle, grounding squeeze.

Safe, she promised.  Friend here.

Asra took another breath.  He was still far from himself.  Still felt a bit detached.  But it was better.  And Faust was right.  Meleia was there.  That was what mattered. 

Meleia clearly knew something was still wrong.  She gazed at Asra for a moment more, searching his face.  Probably looking for some way to help.  Asra did his best to smile for her.  To show her that he was alright, no matter how far from the truth that may have been.  It wasn’t very convincing.   

Then, slowly, Meleia looked at the broken mug.  And with a little frown of concentration—a look that Asra had always found heartbreakingly adorable—she copied the spell Asra had used.  She gathered up the shards of ceramic and collected them all in her skirt.  Then she sort of… stared at them.  She looked rather forlorn.

“My fault,” she said again.  “I’m sorry…”

“It’s alright,” Asra insisted.  He carefully put a hand over hers.  “It’s just a mug.  Besides, we can fix it.  Here… let me teach you a spell.”

As he had done a hundred times before, he gently guided her through this impromptu magic lesson.  With every word, every gentle touch to guide her hands, his panicked heartbeat slowed.  His breathing grew calmer.  His trembling hands stilled. 

By the time the magic was done, he was nearly himself again.  And the mug was whole.  Almost.  It was put together again, at least, and it would work perfectly.  But there were still some faint cracks.  A little chip had gone completely missing.  And the pattern was ever so slightly off. 

Meleia looked even more heartbroken than before. 

“What’s wrong?” Asra asked.

“It’s… broken,” she said.  “Still.”

“It’s fine,” said Asra with a little smile.  “We can use it again now.  That’s enough.”

Meleia’s fingers carefully traced the now-imperfect pattern.  “All wrong…”

Asra hummed thoughtfully.  “Is it?  I think it’s still beautiful.  It’s different, but that doesn’t make it bad.  There’s a kind of beauty in fixing something, too.  In seeing all the scars.  Now it’s unique.”

“Unique…” Meleia repeated, slowly sounding out the word.

“Yes,” said Asra.  “One of a kind.  And that’s part of what makes it beautiful.”

Meleia slowly picked up the mended mug.  Her gaze was rather distant, and still decidedly sad, as she turned it this way and that.  Asra saw how lovely the new, no-longer-symmetrical pattern was.  But he was sure that Meleia was just seeing the traces of the cracks.

“Broken,” she said again.  “Like me.”

Asra’s heart lurched.  He carefully wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into a gentle hug.  Meleia sank into his embrace. 

“No, Meleia,” he whispered.  “You’re not broken.  I know things have been… challenging.  But you’re doing so well.  And no matter what happens, you are a whole person.  A wonderful person.”

Meleia took a shaky breath.  She blinked back tears.  She leaned against Asra a moment more, nearly snuggling into the hug.  After another few heartbeats, she pulled back. 

And she was smiling again.  It was faint, but it was genuine.

“Asra?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” she said.

Asra smiled in return.  “You’re welcome.  Did I help?”

“Yes.”  Meleia’s smile grew a little wider.  Then she glanced up at the stove… and the probably-a-little-too-crispy mushrooms.  “Try again?”

“Of course,” said Asra.  He got to his feet, taking her hand and pulling her up as well.  “Let’s make this the best mushroom rice dish the world has ever seen.”

Meleia laughed.  And any remaining worry in Asra’s heart faded.  If only for the moment.

Meleia always had a way of making things seem brighter.

The mushroom rice didn’t come out quite the way Asra had expected.  Especially when they wound up spending more time making a game out of tossing the rice into the pan instead of just pouring it in there.  But it was delicious nonetheless.  And Asra was happy that Meleia was feeling better. 

She had never voiced the thought before.  But Asra doubted that this was the first time she had thought of herself as broken.  Asra was grateful that he was able to cheer her up.  And eternally thankful for every moment they shared. 

Maybe, in a way, things really were like the mug.  They were still picking up some pieces.  Still learning how to put everything back together.

Nothing would ever be the same as it was before.  But they could still make something beautiful.     

#vesuvia weekly #cooking class #the arcana #the arcana game #fanfic #oneshot #my stuff #my writing #apprentice meleia #asra x apprentice #tw flashbacks #tw panic attack #angst with a happy ending