#I don't like looking in the mirror and seeing someone else's face even if I think that face looks nice

[killerelysia]

Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur!- Solivan brugmansia x Yan!G.N Reader! (Part 5!) {1st part)

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!

Words:10000

Genre: Yandere-(Self aware yandere won the poll)

(Reader is G.N)

Summary: You’ve become consumed by your obsession with Solivan Brugmansia. What started as innocent curiosity quickly spiraled into a fixation. He started it and you began to stalk him, learning every detail about his life. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction in making Sol’s world safer while growing increasingly delusional about your connection with him. Your love for him deepens as you fantasize about the future, convinced that you are the one who truly understands him—better than anyone else. Despite the line between reality and obsession blurring, you remain certain: Sol is yours, even if he doesn’t know it yet.. You're his and he's yours...

Trigger Warning: This content contains themes of obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, mental instability, and delusional thinking, Drugging, Yandere?, Hopeless in love for attention Please read with caution.

This part will contain the Arcade Scene in Sol's Route so...Proceed with caution.

Mentions of Pet-names, Blood, (Implied ATTEMPTED S/A),

Obsessive behavior: The reader becomes dangerously fixated on someone, bordering on stalking and delusion.

Manipulation: The reader engages in schemes to control or harm others, often through deception.

Mental illness: Delusional thinking, possible dissociation from reality, and unhealthy fixation on someone.

Violence: There are references to bullying, physical harm, and emotional manipulation.

Emotional abuse: Both in terms of how the protagonist manipulates others and how they might internalize toxic behaviors.

Stalking: The reader watches and follows the person they are obsessed with.

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named The kid at the back!! Note, The relationship presented here between sol and reader is extremely toxic!! In no way, Just because I'm writing doesn't mean I support this kind of toxicity. Note, It's okay to like sol if you know the flaws and don't be a blind eye on them! Again, I don't support his actions etc! If you hate sol ignore this.

The school bell echoed through the hallway, signaling the start of the next class. Hyugo groaned loudly, stretching his arms dramatically.

"I don't want to go to class. I hate my History teacher almost as much as I hate my archery coach."

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "Weird. Doesn’t George of the Jungle like archery?" you quipped without thinking.

Hyugo froze, his baby-blue eyes narrowing slightly as his pout deepened. "Well, that’s his thing! It’s not like he shares everything with his big brother, you know. But I’m the star now, Y/n." His tone was defensive, but the look on his face said something else entirely: How the hell do you know so much about us?

You didn’t respond to his unspoken question, simply smiling to yourself. Keeping tabs on the secrets of the brothers had its perks, even if you were cautious not to push any boundaries. They weren’t people you wanted to turn against you. Dangerous as they were, having those secrets up your sleeve felt oddly empowering. And with Sol on your side, you weren’t too worried about the fallout. Hyugo clearly adored Sol, and Sol? Well, he wasn’t letting anyone mess with you.

It was to make sure, Geo won't diss your ass.

"Why don’t you just skip class then?" Sol suggested, almost too casually.

Hyugo’s entire face lit up, his eyes practically sparkling. It was as if a literal lightbulb had turned on above his head.

Both you and Sol immediately recognized that look.

“Don’t tell me—” Sol started, but Hyugo cut him off with a dramatic wave of his hand.

"I am skipping class! That’s it. Fuck this school!" he declared triumphantly. "If they’re going to treat us like crap, we might as well be the bad guys. Right, Y/n?"

You sighed heavily, already seeing where this was headed. Sol mirrored your reaction, exhaling loudly with a look of resigned annoyance.

Hyugo leaned closer, his grin widening mischievously. He was practically glowing with chaotic energy as he nudged you. “Come on, Y/n. Don’t tell me you’ve never skipped class before. It’s a beautiful day to break a few rules.”

Skipping class? As if you’d never done it before. Honestly, you’d lost count of the times you’d avoided lectures just to stalk observe Solivan Brugmansia. And now? The man himself and his overly enthusiastic counterpart were inviting you to join them. The temptation was palpable.

It wasn’t just tempting—it was irresistible.

Hyugo turned up the charm, grinning at you like the devil himself.

His expression screamed to you. But you know he doesn't know.

C’mon, Y/n. Look at this—your dream guy, Solivan Brugmansia, right here. All we’re missing is you. Come to the dark side—we’ve got rooftop vibes.

Your lips twitched. "Stop reading my mind," you muttered under your breath.

Skipping class actually sounded pretty good. The teacher was dull, Crowe would be there—ugh, not worth the effort. You glanced at Sol, who stood quietly, waiting for your decision. His expression said he’d go along with whatever you chose, but there was a certain edge of don’t make me regret this.

Hyugo’s voice interrupted your thoughts again. "So? What’s it gonna be? Stay here and suffer? Or join us in sweet rebellion?" He leaned in closer, his grin practically daring you.

“Fuck it. We skip!” you said with finality, throwing caution to the wind.

Hyugo cheered, throwing his arms into the air like he’d just won a championship. “That’s the spirit!”

Even Sol couldn’t hide the faint smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He sighed again but nodded, his hand brushing against yours briefly as he turned to follow Hyugo toward the stairs.

Well, you were already falling. Might as well enjoy the descent.

"But how the hell do we even pull this off? Obviously, we can’t go through the entrance. The vents are blocked, and—"

Sol’s lips curled into a small smile, one so rare and heart-stopping that your brain short-circuited on the spot.

"I know a way," he said calmly.

Wah! Huh?! Ehh?! Your heart was practically exploding as your face turned a deep, humiliating shade of red. You could barely think straight. Sol didn’t even seem to notice your flustered state as he turned and began leading the way.

Hyugo, oblivious as ever, dashed ahead, his energy as wild as ever. If either of them caught a glimpse of your lovesick expression, you’d never live it down.

The path Sol chose led to the back of the school, near the edge of the gardens. Towering iron fences barricaded the perimeter, but Sol confidently navigated through the greenery until he stopped in front of a large bush. He crouched and pushed it aside, revealing a decently sized hole in the fence.

Your jaw dropped. "Wait. Did you… make this? Sol?"

Before he could answer, Hyugo interjected with a proud grin. "He didn’t."

Sol cast Hyugo a sharp look. "He did."

Hyugo’s grin only widened. "I did," he admitted smugly before dropping down and crawling through the gap without hesitation.

Sol gestured for you to go next, his golden-crimson eyes scanning the area to make sure no one was watching. "Go on," he urged softly.

Why is he so sweet?! you thought, practically combusting on the spot. Trying not to overthink his protectiveness, you crouched and squeezed through the gap in the fence.

Leaves and twigs clung to your uniform as you emerged on the other side, brushing them off as Sol followed behind. The three of you maneuvered past bushes and shrubs, the crisp crunch of fallen leaves underfoot marking your escape. Finally, you reached the pavement on the other side of the grounds.

Sol stepped forward and held out a hand to help you up from where you crouched. You took it, your heart doing backflips at the gentle way he pulled you to your feet.

"So, what’s the plan?" you asked, glancing at Hyugo, who was already fumbling with his phone.

Hyugo’s eyes suddenly widened as he stared at the screen. His fingers flew across the screen in panic before he let out an overdramatic gasp and grabbed Sol’s shoulder in a vice-like grip.

"SHERLOCK HOLMES IS OUT?!" he practically screamed.

Sol winced, rubbing his ear. "My ears, Hyugo."

"The movie’s out?" you asked, raising a brow. Then, with a teasing smile, you added, "Did you set the date wrong again, Hyugo?"

"How could I?!" Hyugo shouted indignantly before bolting off at full speed, leaving you and Sol behind.

Sol pinched the bridge of his nose, his irritation bubbling just under the surface. "For the love of—" he muttered, hands on his hips. With a heavy sigh, he began walking after Hyugo.

You trailed alongside him, sneaking glances at his exasperated expression. Sol looked utterly defeated, like a parent chasing after their wayward child. It was hard not to laugh.

"Why are you smiling?" Sol asked, casting you a suspicious look.

You shrugged innocently, biting your lip to keep from laughing. "No reason."

He rolled his eyes but didn’t press further, the corners of his lips twitching upward despite himself.

Hyugo kept tapping furiously on his phone, but as his shoulders slumped, you realized it—he got the date wrong.

Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he turned to you and Sol with a dramatic sigh. Then, clasping his hands together, he pulled out the biggest pair of puppy-dog eyes you’d ever seen.

"We have got to watch it! Can we, Y/n? Can we, Sunny?" he pleaded, his voice bordering on a whine.

"I’ll pass," Sol replied, crossing his arms. "You can go enjoy the movie. I’m planning to hit the arcade while you’re at it."

Hyugo’s pout deepened, the sparkle in his baby-blue eyes dimming into a pitiful half-lidded stare. "Aw, come on. Don’t you like crime movies, Sol? Isn’t Sherlock right up your alley?"

You bit your tongue, realizing too late what you’d just said. That tidbit of information? You’d learned it from stalking Sol. The way his eyes flicked toward you with a mix of surprise and suspicion told you he’d noticed.

"Y/n’s right!" Hyugo exclaimed, unknowingly coming to your rescue. "You’re always watching those crime videos, so come on, it’s perfect! Let’s go see it!"

But Sol’s face was set, his disinterest plain as day. "I’m not in the mood for a movie right now," he said simply.

Hyugo groaned before turning his attention to you, desperation flashing in his eyes. "How about you, Y/n? Would you like to watch it with me? The ticket and food are on me, of course!"

You hesitated, glancing at Sol. His gaze was unwavering, almost expectant.

"I’ll stick with Sol," you said finally. "The arcade sounds like fun."

Hyugo raised an eyebrow before shrugging, his pout quickly replaced with a mischievous grin. "Alright, go on your little impromptu date, then! I don’t want to third-wheel anyway."

"Date!?" you sputtered, your face immediately heating up.

Sol rolled his eyes, looking unfazed. "You’re the one who decided we should skip class and do whatever we wanted," he said with a shrug.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it!" Hyugo waved dismissively. "I’m off to the theater, then. Don’t let me stop you two lovebirds!" He stuck out his tongue playfully before turning to leave, his laughter echoing as he jogged away.

Sol let out a long sigh, shaking his head. "He’s impossible," he muttered.

Meanwhile, you stood frozen, your cheeks burning. Date…?

Sol turned to you, ready to move on, but his gaze caught you fiddling nervously with your hair, fingers twisting the strands like they held some hidden secret. Your lips moved in barely audible whispers, your voice trembling.

"D-Date…? D-Date?! DATE?!?!"

Your face had turned such a deep crimson that Sol immediately furrowed his brows, stepping closer. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine concern. Before you could react, his cool hand pressed against your burning forehead.

The sudden touch sent a jolt through your entire body, your nerves firing like a storm. You screeched, a mix of surprise and overwhelming emotion, and nearly stumbled backward.

"Y/n!" Sol exclaimed, his other hand darting out to steady you, but you quickly waved him off.

"I-I'm fine!" you stammered, your voice shaky. Your heart was pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it. The thought made you panic even more. You reached out, gripping his arm with both hands as if tethering yourself to reality, and pulled him closer.

"Let’s just get going!" you blurted, tugging on his arm as you started walking. Sol stumbled slightly but followed, his face tinged pink now. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you.

But inside, oh, inside was a very different story.

Your grip on his arm was firm, almost possessive. You could feel the fabric of his sleeve under your fingers, could feel the warmth of his skin beneath it. It was grounding, intoxicating even. His scent—a faint mix of lavender and something uniquely Sol—wrapped around you like a blanket.

Your mind churned with chaotic thoughts, obsessive and dark but cloaked in a sugary sweetness that made them feel almost...innocent.

He’s mine. No one else can touch him like this. No one else can make him blush like I can. Hyugo can call it a date all he wants—it’s not just that. It’s more. So much more. He’s perfect, isn’t he? Perfect and mine.

Your grip tightened slightly as you walked, but Sol didn’t seem to notice.

But what if someone tries to take him away?

The thought slithered in unbidden, souring your moment of happiness. You glanced at Sol from the corner of your eye. His calm, handsome face made your heart swell again, but the fear lingered.

You tugged him closer as you walked, your pace slightly faster now, as if putting distance between him and anyone who might come too close. Sol gave you a curious glance but didn’t pull away. If anything, he seemed content with the silence, his steps steady beside yours.

He didn’t know. He didn’t notice the way your thoughts spiraled, the way your mind painted scenarios of keeping him close, of ensuring no one ever got between you two.

No one ever would.

The bright neon lights of the arcade's exterior came into view, their vibrant hues reflecting off the wet pavement from an earlier drizzle. You paused for a moment to admire the sight, turning to Sol with a curious tilt of your head.

“Is this place new?” you asked, your tone a mix of wonder and excitement.

Sol, standing casually beside you, shook his head. “No,” he replied, his voice carrying a hint of his usual calm exasperation. “It’s hidden in the city. Hard to notice unless you know what you’re looking for.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And how do you know about places like this?”

Sol sighed, his annoyance barely masked. “Because Hyugo drags me to places like this all the time,” he muttered, his tone dry.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his expression, earning a small shrug from him. Without another word, he reached into his pocket and handed you a few tokens.

“So, which game are we starting with?” he asked, his crimson-and-orange eyes glinting faintly under the arcade’s colorful lights.

Your heart skipped at how effortlessly he seemed prepared. “Wow, you were ready for this, huh?”

Sol smirked slightly, his voice soft but teasing. “As always.”

Then, without thinking, he held out his hand toward you, not for the tokens, but for you to take. Your breath hitched, your heart thundering in your chest. Hesitating only for a moment, you placed your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours.

Together, you stepped into the arcade, the cacophony of beeping machines, upbeat music, and excited chatter enveloping you both.

The two of you roamed the arcade, hopping from game to game. Sol was surprisingly skilled—his reflexes sharp, his focus unshakable—but you knew, you just knew, he was letting you win most of the time.

When you pointed it out, pouting, “It’s not fair—you keep letting me win,” Sol’s lips quirked into a faint smile.

“Maybe you’re just that good,” he said smoothly, his tone making your cheeks flush.

You playfully rolled your eyes. “You’re such a flatterer.”

But then, in the next few rounds, something shifted. Both of you started losing games—repeatedly. It didn’t take long to figure out why. Sol was purposefully holding back, trying to make sure you won, and you, in turn, were doing the exact same for him.

Neither of you said a word about it.

Instead, you both exchanged bashful glances, silently acknowledging the unspoken game within the game. The warmth spreading in your chest was undeniable.

Eventually, you found yourself at a claw machine, fishing out the last of your tokens to insert into the slot. The machine beeped in denial, signaling you were out.

“Hold on,” Sol said, already turning toward the token exchange counter. “I’ll grab some more.”

Before he left, he pressed the remainder of his tokens into your hand. “Use these in the meantime,” he said softly.

Your fingers closed around the tokens, and as he walked away, you couldn’t help but stare after him, your heart full. He’s so... thoughtful, you mused, biting back a smile.

You moved through the rows of arcade machines, the excitement of the games buzzing around you. Your eyes scanned each one, but then something caught your attention—a claw machine, with a plushie horse sitting inside. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you remembered Hyugo mentioning that Sol liked plushies, particularly ones shaped like horses. Perfect, you thought to yourself. This could be the perfect surprise for him.

You made your way to the claw machine, carefully inserting a token and adjusting the joystick with precision. Your eyes locked onto the horse plushie, and you steered the claw expertly, watching it descend and grab onto the toy. Your heart skipped a beat as the claw began to lift, bringing the horse towards the chute. Almost there…

But then—SMACK!

A sharp sound echoed in your ear as someone suddenly slapped your ass. You whipped around, fury bubbling up inside you as you glared at the man who reeked of alcohol, his breath sour and sloppy. The two men flanking him were equally obnoxious, their laughter cutting through the air.

"Hey, beautiful," the man slurred, his grin crooked and nasty. "You’re looking a bit lost. Let me show you how to play the game."

The words made your blood boil. You couldn’t stand these assholes, thinking they could just take what they wanted. Without hesitation, you spun around, your foot swinging up sharply and connecting with the man’s crotch.

"Ahh!" He groaned, doubling over in pain.

Without another word, you bolted, your heart pounding as adrenaline surged through your body. You dashed through the arcade, glancing back to see the drunken fools stumbling after you. The guy who'd slapped you shouted, his voice slurring but still full of aggression, "Don’t let them get away!"

The chase was on, but you weren't about to let them catch you. You rounded a corner, slipping through a gap between machines, and immediately dove into the crowd of people. You kept your head down, weaving through the arcade, trying to lose them in the maze of flashing lights and clinking tokens.

The sound of their footsteps was close behind, but you managed to stay one step ahead, your mind focused and determined. You didn’t know what they would do if they caught up to you, but you sure as hell weren’t going to find out..

You ran desperately, your heart hammering in your chest as you darted through the arcade, weaving through machines and crowds, but the clattering noise of the games drowned out your calls for help. The panic rose in your throat. Where the hell is Sol?

You kept running, your mind racing for a solution. Your fingers brushed the glass shards scattered near a broken machine, and your heart quickened with an idea. You grabbed one of the shards, feeling the sharp edge in your grip as you ran towards the restroom. Your legs burned, but you didn’t dare slow down. You had to get away from those bastards.

Slamming the door behind you, you locked it as best as you could. But just as you pulled out your phone, your fingers trembling, you cursed—no signal. The frustration and fear made your heart sink, and your anger boiled over. Shit, shit, shit...

You leaned against the wall, trying to steady your breath, but then the unmistakable sound of banging hit the door. They're coming.

And then it happened—the door slammed open with force, crashing into the wall. The man who'd slapped you earlier and his two buddies stood in the doorway, their grins sickening. They were too close, and you backed up instinctively, the glass shard tight in your hand.

"Don't make this harder than it needs to be, darling," one of them said with a slur in his voice, his smirk crooked. "All we want is a little favor."

Your anger flared up. A favor? You’re out of your fucking minds.

You swung the shard at the closest guy, the blade aimed for his neck. But before you could connect, one of the others kicked you in the stomach. The impact knocked the wind out of you, sending you crashing to the ground with a sharp gasp.

You tried to push yourself up, your body aching from the fall, but the man who had kicked you grabbed your arm, dragging you to your feet. "Come on, baby. You’re gonna make this easy on us, right? Be a good little pet."

The words were too much, the rage coursing through you. Pet? You’re gonna regret this.

You struggled, kicking out at the men, but your strength was fading, your body bruised and aching. With everything inside you, you fought back, pushing them away as best as you could. But your legs buckled from the pain, and you collapsed onto the cold floor. Desperation clouded your mind as you curled up instinctively to shield yourself, closing your eyes, hoping for anything.

Sol… please… The thought of him rushed into your mind, but the darkness surrounding you felt so suffocating.

"Hey, it's not a big deal."

You barely registered the words before you felt the force of the man's body jerked off of you, thrown aside like a ragdoll.

A sickening sound filled the room—the sound of flesh slamming against flesh, followed by another impact. The harsh noise made you flinch, your body trembling as you lay on the cold floor, the shards of glass still clutched in your hand.

"That's enough, Sol..." Hyugo's voice cut through the chaos, sharp and commanding, but still there was an edge of worry underneath.

The sound of bones cracking echoed in the room, making your stomach churn. Is that...Sol?

"No," came Sol's voice, colder than ice, sharp with authority. "Not yet."

You couldn’t bring yourself to move, paralyzed with fear as the sounds of violence continued. Every punch from Sol, every crack of bone, made your heart beat faster—faster in a way you couldn’t quite explain. You should have been terrified, but part of you... part of you was strangely calm.

"That's enough, Sol! You broke his nose already!" Hyugo's voice raised, his usual calm demeanor cracking as he shouted at Sol.

But Sol didn’t stop. He was relentless, too consumed by whatever dark emotion controlled him in this moment. The thudding of his fists hitting the man reverberated in the small space, making you wince with each strike.

"Not yet." Sol’s voice was like ice again, his tone unmistakable.

Hyugo’s voice was tinged with panic now. "That's enough, Sol. Y/n needs your help."

Your heart skipped at the mention of your name. The icy grip of fear surrounding you melted for a split second as you opened your eyes, only to be met with the familiar sight of Sol’s intense gaze, his reddish-orange eyes wide with something between concern and fury.

He froze. His body stiffened, and for a moment, everything went silent.

The way he looked at you—the way he always looked at you—it wasn’t like anything else. It wasn’t just concern, nor was it just anger. His eyes softened for a brief moment, his pupils slightly dilated, his hands still clenched into fists, but now... it was like he was seeing you—really seeing you—through the chaos.

Sol kneeled beside you, his hand reaching out hesitantly. His fingers grazed your cheek, brushing away the tear that had fallen in the heat of the moment.

Sol quickly moved to your side, his eyes wide with shock, and without a word, he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. His shoulders shook as he held you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as though he were trying to control his own emotions. You didn’t speak—couldn’t speak. Everything was spinning, the sounds of the scuffle still echoing in your mind, but Sol’s warmth and the way he clung to you helped you focus.

The man who had threatened you now lay still on the ground, a pool of blood slowly spreading around him. His goons were scattered around the corner, unconscious and out of the fight. Your eyes flickered to Hyugo, but the look he gave you wasn’t the usual playful kindness. His gaze was hard, his jaw tense, his eyes twitching as he let out a long, annoyed sigh. The irritation was clear on his face, but there was a sense of worry beneath it, too, as he looked at the mess Sol had made.

Hyugo finally broke the silence, his voice unusually flat. "It's getting quite late. We should head home."

He tapped Sol’s shoulder, prompting the taller male to pull away from you. Sol hesitated for a moment, his face burying deeper into your neck as if he were reluctant to let go. It was only after a few seconds that he finally loosened his grip, his hands lingering on you as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to let you go completely.

"Y/n…" Sol whispered softly, his breath warm against your skin. His voice was rough, like he was fighting something deeper inside him. He pulled back slowly, not meeting your eyes but still close enough to you that you could feel the intensity of his presence.

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his actions—of everything—press down on you. He had protected you... in his own way. But you didn’t know what to feel, didn’t know what to think.

Sol's eyes were bloodshot, his face flushed—whether from anger or worry, it was hard to tell. But what was evident was the silent pain he tried so hard to conceal. His emotions had broken free, and now, tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have left you...I..." His voice wavered, hesitant, as he struggled to find the right words.

"Sol..." You spoke softly, gently reaching out to cup his cheek. He flinched at the touch, as if the comfort was too much to bear. The tears he had fought to hold back now poured down his face without restraint.

He relaxed after a moment, closing his eyes and leaning into your hand. He held it gently, as though he feared letting go.

"I don't know what I'd do if..." His words trailed off, the weight of his unspoken fears pressing down on him.

"It's okay... It's alright..." you reassured him, your voice calm, offering the quiet support he desperately needed. The atmosphere between you both felt heavy, yet there was an understanding, a sense of safety, in the silence that followed.

You held Sol's hands to your face, tears spilling freely from your eyes as the overwhelming emotions finally broke through. It was a short, breathless cry, but it was enough to shake you to the core. You felt his warmth, his presence grounding you as the fear and pain that had built up in you over time began to dissolve.

"Thank you... thank you, Sol..." you sobbed, your voice shaky. You almost flinched, not fully prepared for the rush of emotions, but before you could pull away, you pulled him into a tight hug. The weight of everything seemed to lift just a little as you pressed yourself into him, letting the sobs rack through your body.

Sol was frozen for a moment, shocked by the sudden outpouring. His body tensed, but then he slowly wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. His own tears continued to fall, soft and almost hesitant, as though he didn’t know what to do, but instinctively, he was there for you.

Hyugo stood nearby, watching the scene unfold. He was quiet, giving you both the space you needed. The tension that had hung between you and Sol seemed to ease as you held each other, though Sol's quiet sobs still lingered in the air. You could feel the raw emotion, the vulnerability between you, and it only made you hold on tighter.

the three of you stood there, the tension in the air thick and heavy, you felt the warmth of Hyugo’s hand slip into yours. His touch was gentle, yet firm, like he was trying to ground you in that moment, as if to reassure you that everything would be okay. But your eyes were on the plushie in his other hand— the horse plushie you had won for Sol earlier at the arcade. It seemed almost too perfect now, as if it were a symbol of everything that had happened, and everything that had changed.

You didn’t say anything about the plushie. You couldn’t. It felt strange to speak after everything, and it almost felt as if the words would break the fragile bubble that had formed between the three of you.

Sol, still lost in his guilt, stepped back. His gaze never quite met yours as he looked at the ground, a mix of regret and something deeper written across his face. His breath was shaky, his usual cool demeanor shattered. You could tell he was still processing everything, still fighting with the weight of his own emotions.

You were about to say something, Hyugo spoke up, his voice breaking the heavy silence. "It's getting dark now. We should head back," he said, his voice soft but insistent.

Sol’s hand, which had been loosely holding yours, suddenly tightened. You flinched slightly, surprised by how possessively he gripped you now. It wasn’t protective, not this time. It was as if he needed to hold onto you, as though afraid you might slip away if he didn’t.

You didn’t say anything in response. Instead, you let your fingers curl tighter around his hand, instinctively drawing closer to him. The need to stay near him, to feel his presence, was overwhelming.

Hyugo noticed, though he said nothing, his eyes glancing from you to Sol, as if understanding more than he let on.

Sol didn’t pull away, his grip on you more desperate now. His body was stiff, but you could feel the tremor in his hand. It was clear: Sol wasn’t just protecting you. He was holding onto you because he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

Sol’s grip on your hand remained unrelenting, his knuckles white from the intensity with which he held you. It was clear he wasn’t about to let go anytime soon. Hyugo let out a long, frustrated sigh, his eyes scanning the surroundings before looking back at the two of you.

“I guess the arcade’s off-limits for a while,” Hyugo said with a hint of concern in his voice. “Those guys might come back, and we don’t need any more trouble.”

Sol’s grip tightened even more, a subtle growl in his voice as he spoke, “If they come back... I’ll give them more than just a broken nose.”

Hyugo chuckled nervously, his hands raised in mock surrender. “You're pretty scary when you’re like this, Sol.”

A dark smirk flickered on Sol’s lips, his gaze never leaving the ground as he muttered, “Good. I’d like to keep it that way.”

Hyugo shook his head, clearly trying to lighten the mood, but Sol wasn’t having it. He rummaged through his pockets, pulling something out before handing it to Sol. You couldn’t see what it was, but from the look on Sol’s face, it was clear he wasn’t pleased.

“I told you those don’t work anymore,” Sol grumbled, his eyes narrowing as he looked at whatever Hyugo had given him.

Hyugo rolled his eyes, looking unamused. “It’s because you’re not taking them, you fool. Now, take it tonight.”

Sol scowled, like a child being scolded, but he took the object from Hyugo’s hand with a reluctant sigh. He stuffed it into his pocket without a word, his expression darkening even further.

Sol slipped the small, plastic package into his pocket, the faint sound of the crinkling plastic reached your ears, and your heart skipped a beat. You tried to shake off the feeling, but your mind couldn’t help but race. The thought of the small pill container now hidden in his pocket lingered in your thoughts.

It must be sleeping pills for Sol...

You quickly glanced away, trying to push the unsettling thought out of your head, but it only made the darkness within you swirl more intensely. Sol... You knew him. His obsession, his need for control. You didn’t want to think it, but the idea that he could use those pills on you, to make you fall asleep so he could whisper his sweet nothings... That thought lingered in your mind, and you couldn’t deny the twisted thrill that sparked within you.

How cute, right? The thought of him being so controlling over you, his obsession so deep that he would go to such lengths to ensure you never left his side, even in sleep. But you knew better than to turn a blind eye. You couldn’t afford to.

You need to watch out for your food and drinks.

You swallowed the knot in your throat, the idea of Sol having complete power over you creeping up again. The way he was so gentle, so caring on the surface, but you knew better. You knew he wanted more, and you weren't sure how far he'd go to keep you close, to make you his. But it didn’t stop you.

You want to see all of his sides.

All of his SIDES

Your hand tightened around his, and despite the dark thoughts swirling in your mind, you kept your eyes on him, on every small movement. You couldn’t let it happen. You wouldn’t let it.

You consent to him, your body is HIS.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t watch him. Watch his every move, keep track of every little thing he did to you.

"Anyway, your place is just around the corner... You should head back as soon as possible. I'll be taking Y/n home," Hyugo said, his voice light as he tried to steer the situation.

Sol's eyes narrowed instantly, his grip shifting from holding your hand to wrapping his arm around you possessively. His gaze turned dark, a silent challenge in his eyes as he glared at Hyugo.

"I can walk them home," Sol's voice was low, almost a growl as he squeezed your waist tighter, pulling you closer to him.

You winced slightly at the pressure, a soft hiss escaping your lips, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of your mouth. The way Sol was acting, so protective, so obsessive—his possessiveness was palpable.

CUTE… CUTE… MINE... MINE...

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face, your eyes fluttering slightly as they softened, the world around you blurring into nothing but Sol’s grip, his possessiveness. Your gaze turned distant, pupils dilating, heart racing as you lost yourself in the intense focus of his touch.

His arm wrapped around your waist tighter, squeezing you closer to him, and you shivered, a rush of warmth flooding through your body. CUTE… CUTE… MINE… The words reverberated in your mind, the pull of them drawing you deeper into the madness. His obsession with you was so consuming, so perfect—and you wanted more.

You stared at him with hearts in your eyes, a twisted sense of euphoria blooming in your chest. Each second, each possessive gesture, it was like a drug. You didn’t care how dark it was—this was what you wanted. You didn’t need to escape, not when he was right there, keeping you his. His jealousy, his obsession—it was all a delicious game, a dance of power and control, and you were more than happy to play your part.

Hyugo noticed the shift in the air, his gaze flicking between you and Sol, his usual carefree expression replaced with a hint of concern, though the look didn’t quite reach his eyes. Sol, however, was unwavering. The two exchanged a look—a glare full of tension, but neither one was willing to back down.

And you? You could hardly contain yourself. Watching their interaction, feeling Sol’s arm tighten, the possessiveness pouring from him, you were drunk on it. You wanted him to tighten his grip even more. To show the world you were his, that no one else could touch you. You wanted him to break anyone who dared to even look at you wrong.

Your thoughts spiraled deeper, you couldn’t help but press yourself into Sol’s side, letting him hold you tighter, letting the dark satisfaction flow through you.

"I want Sol… to accompany me home. Hyugo, you must have something to do, right?" you said, your voice sweet yet laced with an undeniable finality. Both men froze at your words, their expressions shifting like ripples in a storm.

Hyugo's brows furrowed in visible disapproval, his baby-blue eyes narrowing as if searching for the logic in your decision. Meanwhile, Sol’s face transformed. His surprise melted into something smug, his lips curling into a self-satisfied smirk, Cocky as he slowly turned his head toward Hyugo, his crimson-and-orange eyes gleaming with an unsettling mixture of delight and triumph.

"You heard them, Hyugo," Sol began, his voice dripping with false sincerity, though his amusement was impossible to hide. "I can handle this. I can walk Y/n home. Y/n trusts me. I want you to trust me, too." He closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly, feigning an air of genuine concern. But you could feel the smugness radiating off him, his grip on you subtly tightening as if staking his claim.

Hyugo’s disbelief was palpable. His jaw tensed, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, veins bulging under the strain. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he said nothing for a moment, the silence between the three of you thick and charged.

Finally, Hyugo sighed heavily, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. "If that’s what you want, Y/n," he said, though his tone carried an edge of reluctant acceptance. "I can’t force you."

You gave him a soft, almost apologetic smile. "Don’t worry, Hyugo. I’m fine with however Sol is," you said, your voice gentle but deliberate. The words hung in the air, a quiet affirmation that twisted the tension into something sharper.

Hyugo’s eyes darkened for a brief moment, but he nodded. Without another word, he turned on his heel and began walking away, his footsteps heavy against the pavement. You and Sol stood together, watching his retreating figure grow smaller and smaller until he disappeared into the shadows.

The air shifted once Hyugo was gone, and you felt Sol’s smirk grow wider as he turned his gaze down to you, his hand slipping into yours, possessive and warm. His grip tightened just slightly, and your heart raced—not from fear, but from the intoxicating thrill of knowing you had chosen him.

Sol rubbed at the lingering redness in his eyes, his gaze shifting to meet yours. His voice was soft, almost vulnerable. "Why is he so bossy? Especially with you… I always thought he was the carefree type. Guess you really can’t judge a book by its cover. Funny… that’s something I tell myself all the time."

His words trailed off, his eyes flicking back to the empty path Hyugo had taken. His expression darkened for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. You knew what was running through his mind. Sol wasn’t just observant—he was obsessive, possessive. He knew more than he let on, always watching, always waiting. It should���ve scared you. Maybe, once, it had. But now…

You found it thrilling.

The knowledge of his fixation, his relentless need to keep you close, stirred something deep inside you. It wasn’t fear—it was desire. The darker, twisted part of you craved it, craved him. You loved the way he obsessed over you, the way his need for you bled into every little action. You wanted him closer, deeper—wrapped around you entirely.

There was no love. It was the love for his obesseion

As if sensing your thoughts, Sol’s hand found yours, his fingers curling tightly around them. His crimson-orange gaze softened as his lips curved into a boyish smile, a stark contrast to the shadows lingering in his eyes.

"What matters is that you’re here with me right now," he said, his voice filled with a strange, innocent warmth that tugged at something dark within you. "Shall we get going?"

That smile—so deceptively sweet, so utterly his—made your chest tighten. You reached out, your hand brushing through his hair in a soft, almost tender gesture. "Let’s go," you murmured, your voice carrying a faint edge of something you didn’t care to define.

Without waiting for a reply, you led him forward, your fingers still entwined with his as your other hand slipped to his arm, holding onto him as if anchoring him to you.

If he noticed the way your grip was a little too tight, your steps a little too deliberate, he didn’t say anything. Instead, his smirk lingered just long enough to let you know—he was just as lost in you as you were with him.

He doesn't know but you knew.

"Please excuse the mess," you said with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of your head as you opened the door and gestured for Sol to enter. "I wasn’t expecting any visitors tonight, so it’s not exactly spotless."

"I don’t mind," Sol replied softly, stepping inside. Yet, once he crossed the threshold, he didn’t move any further, lingering near the door like a statue.

His stance was stiff, almost awkward. You tilted your head, watching him curiously. Why was he acting like he hadn’t been here countless times before, sneaking in and lurking in your shadows?

"Come on, don’t just stand there," you said, taking his hand gently but firmly, leading him to the living room. Sol followed, his hand warm in yours but his body still rigid. You guided him to the couch, nudging him to sit.

He hesitated for a moment before lowering himself onto the cushions. Placing the horse plush you’d won for him carefully on the table beside him, his crimson-orange gaze flicked toward you, unreadable.

"You don’t need to be so stiff, Sol. Relax! Make yourself at home," you said, your tone soft and teasing.

"…Sorry," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’m just… not used to being in someone else’s space. Let alone their home."

Liar.

You bit back a knowing smile, folding your arms as you stared him down. Sol had probably been in every corner of your apartment at least once. When he stalks.

"Not even Hyugo’s?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sol shook his head silently, his gaze dropping to his hands. His knuckles were bruised, faint traces of blood still visible from earlier. Your heart clenched at the sight, and without thinking, you reached out to take his hand again.

"Stop that," you scolded, catching him flexing his fingers like he was testing their strength. "Wait here. I’ll get the medical kit. And don’t you dare make things worse by straining your fists!"

"You don’t have to do this," he said softly, almost regretfully. His voice carried a tinge of sadness, his eyes flicking up to meet yours.

"My house, my rules," you shot back, planting your hands on your hips. "And I insisted on treating your wounds. So sit tight, no arguments."

Sol didn’t argue. He sat there, his body still tense, but at your words, you noticed his shoulders ease just slightly.

"Stay here," you repeated, your tone gentler this time as you turned to grab the kit.

You rummaged through your cabinets until you found the medical kit, a bit dusty from lack of use. With it in hand, you returned to the living room, where Sol was sitting exactly as you’d left him—his gaze unwavering and fixed on the spot where you had disappeared.

"Hands," you said firmly, kneeling beside him as you opened the kit.

Sol gave you a pointed look, his crimson-orange eyes narrowing slightly. "You treat me like a dog sometimes," he grumbled, holding out his bruised hands reluctantly. "But fine. Here."

You giggled, unable to help yourself at his petulant tone. "Aww, poor Sol," you teased. "But it’s not my fault you obey like one."

His cheeks flushed instantly, a deep crimson spreading up to his ears. "Y-you’re ridiculous," he muttered, turning his head slightly to hide his embarrassment, but he didn’t pull his hands away.

"Sit still," you said softly, smiling as you began to work.

Step by step, you treated his wounds. First, you gently cleaned his knuckles with a damp cloth, wiping away the dried blood and dirt. His fingers twitched in your grip, and you glanced up to see him staring at you with an unreadable expression.

"Does it hurt?" you asked, your voice almost a whisper.

"No," he said quickly, his gaze darting away. But the way his hands tensed told a different story.

Next, you dabbed at the cuts with antiseptic. His breath hitched, but he didn’t complain, only biting his lip and watching you carefully.

"You’re doing so well," you murmured, the words slipping out unconsciously.

His eyes widened briefly before softening, his lips parting as if to say something. Instead, he just nodded, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Finally, you wrapped his knuckles in gauze, your fingers brushing against his skin as you secured the bandages. Every touch felt electric, and you swore you could feel his pulse quicken under your fingertips.

"There," you said, leaning back to admire your handiwork. "All done. See? That wasn’t so bad."

Sol flexed his fingers experimentally, then looked down at his bandaged hands. "…Thanks," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight of emotion that made your heart skip a beat.

You smiled, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of his face. "Anytime, Sol. You’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?"

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the room felt impossibly still. "Always," he said, his voice low and earnest, his gaze unwavering.

Without thinking, as if guided by instinct rather than reason, you raised Sol's bandaged hand to your lips and pressed a soft kiss against the gauze. The motion was slow, deliberate, and almost reverent.

Sol's eyes widened in shock, his cheeks immediately flushing a deep crimson. He froze, utterly unprepared for the gesture. "W-what are you doing?" he stammered, his voice cracking slightly.

You smiled softly, letting his hand linger against your lips for a moment before lowering it. "Just showing my appreciation," you said.

His lips twitched, forming a pout as he glanced away, his ears burning red. "You need to stop treating me like a little kid," he mumbled, the sulkiness in his tone doing little to mask his embarrassment.

"Do you hate it?" you asked, tilting your head curiously, watching as his blush deepened.

He didn’t respond immediately. The pout on his lips faded into a silence that spoke volumes.

You chuckled softly, holding his hand against your cheek. His fingers twitched slightly, and you could feel the warmth of his skin even through the bandages. Your voice dropped to a soft, soothing murmur. "Thank you, Sol… for saving me back there. For being there when I needed you the most."

You leaned your face into his hand, closing your eyes briefly as if savoring his touch. "You were incredible," you whispered, your tone filled with admiration. "You’re always so strong, Sol. Always there to protect me. I don’t know what I’d do without you."

Your words were carefully chosen, each one designed to feed the storm of obsession you knew was brewing inside him. And oh, how he reacted.

His breath hitched audibly, his gaze fixated on you. His crimson-orange eyes were wide, shimmering with something between adoration and disbelief. His blush deepened further, spreading to his neck and ears.

"You… you mean that?" His voice was barely above a whisper, trembling slightly.

"Of course I do," you said softly, opening your eyes to meet his gaze. The way his face flushed, his lips parted as if he were about to say something, and the sheer awe in his expression—it was intoxicating.

He looked at you like you were the center of his universe, the very air he breathed. And you loved it.

He pulled his hand away slightly, but only to cup your face with both hands, his thumbs gently brushing your cheeks. His gaze burned with intensity now, his earlier shyness replaced by something darker, more consuming.

"I’ll always protect you," he murmured, his voice trembling with emotion. "No one will ever hurt you again… I won’t let them."

You smiled, leaning into his touch. "I know," you whispered. "I trust you, Sol. Completely."

The corners of his lips curved into a shaky smile, his eyes glimmering with devotion—and something even deeper, more dangerous.

You didn’t need to say it, but you both understood it:

You belonged to him, and he belonged to you.

You held Sol's hands against your face, your voice soft and trembling just enough to make it seem vulnerable. "You're the only one who's always been there for me, Sol," you murmured, letting your gaze lock onto his, wide-eyed and glimmering with sincerity. "When things get dark, when I'm scared, it's always you."

His breath caught in his throat, and his grip on your face grew firmer, as if anchoring himself to your words. His eyes were searching, desperate to believe every syllable that fell from your lips.

"I don’t know what I’d do without you," you continued, tilting your head slightly to nuzzle his palm, your voice just barely above a whisper.

The effect on him was immediate. Sol's entire body tensed, and a faint tremble ran through his fingers as he cupped your face. His eyes were swimming with emotions—guilt, adoration, obsession—all tangled together into something raw and overwhelming.

"Y/n…" His voice cracked, and he bit his lip, struggling to hold himself together.

You smiled sweetly, leaning forward just a fraction, your gaze never leaving his. "I don’t care what anyone else thinks or says. You’ve always been the one who understands me, who truly sees me. I feel safe with you, Sol... only you."

His reaction was everything you wanted. His eyes darkened, his pupils dilating as his breathing became uneven. His possessive grip returned, his fingers trembling slightly as if he was holding himself back from something primal.

But that wasn’t enough for you. His obsession was addictive, and you wanted to see more of it. To feel the heat of it consume you.

You let out a soft laugh, almost teasing, as your gaze dropped momentarily to his lips before meeting his eyes again. "You’re so good to me, Sol... so perfect. It’s almost unfair how much I need you."

His eyes widened, and his face flushed crimson. "N-need me?" he stammered, his voice trembling.

"Of course," you said, tilting your head and smiling like you’d just confessed a harmless secret. "Who else could it be? You’re the only one who’s ever truly been there for me. I can’t imagine trusting anyone else the way I trust you."

He swallowed hard, his hands twitching as if he wanted to pull you closer but wasn’t sure how much closer he could get without losing himself entirely.

And that’s when you saw it—the flicker of something darker in his eyes. A hunger, a desperate need to keep you as his, to prove he was the only one you needed.

Inside, you felt a surge of satisfaction. His reactions, his obsession, his love—it was all so deliciously intoxicating.

You leaned into his touch, your voice softening to a whisper, dripping with sweetness. "You’re all I need, Sol. Just you."

And as his trembling lips curled into a shaky smile, his eyes shining with devotion and possessiveness, you couldn’t help but think: Perfect.

You bit your lip, lowering your gaze just a fraction, feigning shyness. "I… I know it might sound silly, but after what happened, I… I don’t want to be alone. The idea of being around anyone else… guys, girls… it scares me."

You felt his hands tense against your skin.

"But with you?" You lifted your gaze to meet his, your eyes shining with unshed tears, perfectly calculated. "I feel safe. You're the only one I trust now, Sol. The only one."

He swallowed hard, his throat visibly bobbing, his expression torn between disbelief and overwhelming emotion.

"Sol… Can I… Can I stay near you from now on? Please?" You tilted your head, your voice trembling as if the thought of rejection might break you. "I just… I’m scared, Sol. Scared of everyone else after what happened. But I know you’d never let anything bad happen to me. Right?"

His face was a mixture of awe and something darker, almost feral, as if your words were wrapping around him like chains he didn’t want to escape.

"Of course," he managed, his voice thick with emotion. "You can stay close to me. Always. I won’t let anyone—anyone—hurt you again."

Your lips trembled into a small pout, and you reached up to clutch his hands tighter against your face. You tilted your head slightly, acting as though his words were an anchor for your frayed nerves.

"Thank you, Sol," you whispered, your voice breaking just the tiniest bit. "I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re so… so good to me."

He was utterly lost in your words, his gaze unfocused and dazed, the sheer depth of his emotions cracking through the careful control he tried to maintain.

You pouted, your tone softening further, almost as if you were the one being manipulated. "I’m sorry if I’m being a burden… but I just—"

"Never," he interrupted, his voice fierce. His hands slid down to hold yours, his grip firm but trembling. "You’re never a burden. Never say that again."

Your lips curled into a small, trembling smile, and you nodded.

"I only trust you," you whispered.

Sol pressed his hand over his heart, his voice soft but firm, he swore an oath, "Let me repay your kindness, Y/n... Let me take care of you."

For a moment, you thought he was about to declare his love for you, the words hanging heavy in the air, but his gaze shifted—soft and sincere, yet with a dark undertone that made your heart race. The way he said it, with such quiet conviction, made your insides twist with longing.

You opened your mouth, ready to dismiss the idea—I don’t need you to cook for me, you were about to say, but before you could, your stomach betrayed you.

It rumbled loudly, echoing in the quiet room. Your face immediately flushed with embarrassment, and you quickly raised your hands to your cheeks, hiding the red tint creeping up your skin.

Sol's eyes softened immediately, his lips curling into a smile as he gently reached for your hands, pulling them away from your face. His expression was so gentle, yet his eyes gleamed with that possessive, dark affection you knew all too well.

"Don't hide yourself from me, Y/n," he murmured, his voice low and tender as he gazed at you with that intoxicating intensity. "You don't have to be ashamed... you're perfect." His words hung in the air, thick with affection and something far deeper, a touch of madness lurking beneath the surface.

You couldn’t look away from his face, the overwhelming wave of love and obsession clouding your thoughts. Your heart hammered in your chest as your stomach growled once more, and you instinctively reached out to clutch your face, like you were posing in the way you’d seen in shows, but this was real, and he was here.

"Sol..." you whispered, your voice trembling slightly, "No cooking. You don’t have to do that."

But he didn’t listen. He wasn’t the type to back down when he had a plan.

He pouted, a playful, childlike expression crossing his features, and it made him look even more endearing—if that was even possible. "I want to, Y/n," he said softly, his voice now a low, adoring murmur. "Let me take care of you... let me make you happy."

His words, so sincere and desperate, sent a shiver through you.

With a final, tender glance at you, Sol turned and walked toward the kitchen. Each step he took seemed deliberate, as though he was placing himself further and further into your world, making himself indispensable.

You stood frozen, your eyes wide and heart heavy with a mixture of longing and something darker—an obsession of your own that mirrored his.

You blinked at Sol's grumpy face, his pout so endearing it nearly made you want to melt. He crossed his arms in that way that made him look both cute and frustratingly determined. "Alright, fine, I’ll cook for you."

He still looked a little upset, but his eyes softened slightly when you said it. "Okay," he mumbled, a slight pout still lingering on his lips. You smiled inwardly at how adorable he was when he tried to act tough, especially for you.

You both moved toward the kitchen, and you asked softly, "Anything you like? I can make whatever you want…"

Sol thought for a moment, his eyes flicking away, as if he were deliberating. Then, with a whisper barely audible, he said, "As long as it’s from you, Y/n…"

Your heart skipped a beat. His words were a quiet confession wrapped in a thread of possessiveness that sent a thrill through you. As long as it’s from me, he wanted nothing more than something made by your hands. The thought of him depending on you, wanting you in this way, made the dark thoughts swirl in your mind.

You felt the weight of the moment, suddenly aware of the kitchen, of what you were about to do. You hadn’t cooked for anyone before. Your mind raced as you stood in front of the sink. What the hell am I doing?

You were never the type to entertain guests. You were just a lonely little thing, someone who spent their time sketching, daydreaming, and obsessing over people like Sol. Did he really want this? Did he really want me to cook for him?

You felt the panic rising in your chest, but before you could overthink it any further, Sol stood up from the table, his movements casual but with a focused intensity. He began inspecting the cupboards, muttering under his breath.

"Your cupboards are pretty empty," he said, his tone casual but with a hint of concern. "No groceries?"

You shrugged slightly, not wanting to go into details. No groceries… no one to buy them for. "I’ve been busy," you said, your voice trailing off. You didn’t mention how you had been busy sketching his face, obsessing over him, imagining every detail of his being.

Sol gave you a questioning glance, but then he let it slide. His eyes scanned the shelves again, and then his gaze softened when he reached for something in the back.

"Not completely empty," he said with a small, amused smile. He pulled out a box of curry powder and handed it to you. "Here. You can use this."

Your heart fluttered, but it wasn’t just the fact that he had given you something to cook with—it was that he knew you hide that curry where exactly.

IM so sorry for dividing this next part will be last!

also, yes if it's not clear by now, Reader only likes his obsession on them than himself </3 i guess the talk abt crowe already made it clear

until next time

-ellie <3

[msmelissalin]

"Freedom? From what exactly? Me?" The laughter that followed was un-humored. Instead, it mirrored disbelief as a hand raked through her hair. For a moment, she forgot that she probably looked in a state. And cared little — because this carousel of emotions was going off-kilter, and she was not enjoying it.

Instead, Melissa simply decided to let him rant. 

She'd seen Andrew similarly over the years, but their relationship differed from the one she had with his son. Mutual respect seemed to be lost on Gideon once he deemed her unworthy. 

But Gideon, the almighty, the righteous, condemned her for playing the game: like he'd expected her to be better than the rest. Even if he didn't...it was unreasonable thinking on her behalf. Melissa presented herself like a broken mirror: a hundred different faces...her forward, most facing sharpness had always been gentler with him. She’d favoured him for some time. But when did she stop? When did enough become enough? 

Standing there, those dainty shoulders squared, hands flexing at her sides as she tried to let go of a feeling that was curling at the base of her spine. At her five foot three, Gideon towered over her, even from where he stood. Instead, Melissa made an executive decision.

Flip the goddamn cards, Melissa.

She wasn't one to crumble under fire. And yet, when he finally stopped, her head tilted, lips pressed into an unforgiving thin line. Suffocating, bitter.

' — do you take me for a fool, Melissa?? '

"Funnily enough, Gideon, of everyone I've met...I always thought you to be smart." a short pause. "...you’re angry, far more than you used to be, Gideon, but I see no fool." It wasn’t a question she understood. 

“You think I’m just this..." A laugh broke through...hurt. "This...fucking puppet master pulling strings at every corner...and yes, to a degree. I am. I don't pretend to be anything different. But what you so often forget, manipulating everyone around me is my job — not for the fun of it.” two steps closer. "You're always so damn eager to believe the worst in me. It’s easier, isn’t it? To paint me as the main villain, so long as I give you someone to hate? To blame..." 

Grabbing the coat and bits she'd piled together. She couldn't stay here, not when he was in a mood like this. "I believe in power. I believe in control." If she didn't, that lovely life that he'd been afforded by Andrew and Cerys would've been far different. "Because I’ve seen what happens when you don’t have it," and she shot him a look. 

Standing there, coat in hand...looking at him. How she'd missed him...and still, he drove the knife in time and time again. “I’ll find somewhere else to sleep.” And he better pray she didn’t find a way to send Roman over here, so she could bunk with Benjamin.

Without another word, she scoffed and walked out of the tent doors.

"No, Mrs. Lin. I'll do what I please without your restrictions. You see, that's thing about being free." The Rutherford corrects her, dismissing the exceptions she tries to impose. Doesn't she fucking get it?... He's like any other man existing outside of her damnable hierarchy —because of the choice he had made so long ago to refuse her. It leaves her no remit over him, no power to do anything more than ask.

... And Melissa Lin has too much pride to ask. He doesn't even know how he'd fallen for it last night, how he'd honestly convinced himself in his alcohol-addled state that she was genuinely asking for him to stay in their tent, that she needed him.

A game, Gideon thinks now, burning with anger and regret. Another game like the kind she's always played. Which is why it's so bloody comedic when the lawyer tells him;

'Believe it or not, not everything's a play for power.'

"This! From the lips of the same woman who insisted that power is everything, who insisted that it's the end that justifies the means, who's tried to convince me it's the most important thing there is in life — do you take me for a fool, Melissa??" Gideon fears and suspects the answer, so he doesn't give her the time to reply. "Is the irony entirely lost on you?... If Amélie is in over her head it's because of people like you!!"

Like hell if he'll let her play the saint now, Amélie's personal guardian angel.

"Don't pretend you give a toss who my family is or isn't nice to, not when you've been more than happy to adopt their methods and sing the tune." He runs a hand through his hair, indignant and disbelieving. "... Boy, your hypocrisy really is something."

[blackvahana]

Yeah. Man. I'm just sitting here remembering I've been doing this my entire life. I feel like there was a patch I wasn't, part of the teen years, and that's either I've forgotten because trauma orrrr something else but

No wonder I've never felt anchored on this plane. But it doesn't matter, well, no, it matters a lot, but this life is just constantly isolating in how it works so I will keep the talk of not fitting in here and what being weirdly one got in one foot out has done to talking to myself lmfao but... I remember. I remember being in the garden as a really young child and I'm not a young child. I'm this chimaeric fairy-type thing of swirling and bulging colours like a psychedelic faceted-insect-eye's led trip, four or more wings of different types that are again, so ungrounded, so psychedelic, vivid. Not uncertain. Not half-formed. Fully formed, the starbeing in me just barely contained in the shape of the human-pretending-to-be-a-fae it's pretending to be

I remember so much, actually, and it's. it's just weirdly melancholic....? Maybe not melancholic, but it's so sad and I don't know why. Actually. I mean I've been trying to piece it together for like twenty minutes now but... People get a little irritated at me for being very "you don't understand and no one sees me" but like. I have lived an entire life walkinv streets where no one sees me. It's very complicated, there's. mental health stuff in there because of course I've come across a lot of spirits but I have bad issues seeing people as real but like. Man yeah no I am a snail and one part of me can be physically seen but the other has always been on the other side

[thethingything]

anyway I'm suddenly realising just how much I like the body's hair even if the rest of our appearance makes me dysphoric. I liked the body's hair anyway but I didn't realise how much I actually like it

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 6 (part two)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 4.1k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

additional chapter cw! suggestive moments, mature readers only please!

You and Carter didn’t fight, it just didn’t happen.

Like any sisters, you got on each other’s nerves, you disagreed on things, you borrowed each other’s clothes without asking - but you didn’t fight. 

Growing up, your parents fought all the time. You and Carter would sit in her bedroom and listen to music, talking and laughing and pretending not to hear. Ever since then, you had a silent agreement; you didn’t fight and you never raised your voices at each other.

The problem with this system was that you were never quite sure when she was upset with you. Your stomach churned the whole rest of your shower, as she stood uncharacteristically quiet at the bathroom sink and did her makeup.

Maybe she hadn’t heard you, or maybe she had just hated your words so much that she couldn’t even respond to them. You knew she wouldn’t like it when you admitted that you’d be with Rafe if he asked you, but pretending it had never been said seemed particularly childish. 

A little while later, you sat on a stool in front of the bathroom mirror as she did your hair and makeup. You found your eyes continually drifting up to her, searching for any sign of anger. When a full half-an-hour passed and she still hadn’t responded to your comments about Rafe, you broke down and asked, “are you mad at me?”

“For what?” She scrunched her eyebrows.

“For what I said in the shower,” you wrung your hands in your lap, not sure you wanted the answer.

“Bitch, you know I have the short term memory of an ant, you’re gonna have to give me more to work with.”

You laughed at her bluntness, the lightheartedness of her words relaxing you enough to face your fear.

“What I said about Rafe,” you said. “That I’d be with him if he asked me to.”

She paused her work on your hair, setting the brush down and meeting your eyes in the mirror.

“When did you say that?” She twisted her lips.

“When you came back in, while I was in the shower.”

She shook her head, “must’ve been talking to someone else because I’ve definitely never heard you say that. I feel like I would’ve remembered something so insane.”

You looked down at your hands in your lap, playing the whole thing back in your mind. You had definitely heard someone come in, the door squeaking at their arrival. That means someone else in the house was walking around with your deepest secret. And now Carter knew it too.

“Oh,” you said. “Never mind then.”

“Yeah right, you really think I’m just gonna move on from that?” Carter put her hands on her hips.

“We could just pretend I never said anything,” you shrugged.

“Yes you know me,” Carter rolled her eyes, “I’m famous for letting things go and being super chill when I hear someone say something batshit crazy.”

You sighed, “okay fine, but what you didn’t hear was me following the statement up by saying I know I shouldn’t be with him ‘cause I’d probably hate myself the whole time.”

Carter started working on your hair again, her contorted face betraying her attempt to act casual.

“Please just say whatever you’re thinking,” you urged her.

“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” she replied.

You snorted, “since when?”

“I just, like, ugh,” she dropped her head back in frustration. “Why him? Like I’ve never understood. What is it about him?”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. “I’ve never really known. He’s just…”

“Arrogant, selfish, a bully…” she finished your sentence for you.

“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head.  

“Just be careful, okay?” She placed her hands on your shoulders, meeting your eye in the mirror. “I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

“I know,” you nodded. “I will be.”

“If Rafe Cameron has zero haters then I am dead,” she concluded.

“I know that too,” you smiled.

Carter leaned past you to collect a couple bobby pins from the bathroom sink, her shirt slipping slightly off her shoulder and revealing a patch of deep purple marks.

“Oh my god,” you squealed. “Are those hickies?!”

She dragged her shirt back over her shoulder defensively.

“No! I fell!”

“Uh-huh, right onto Topper’s mouth apparently!” You poked her side, teasing her.

“Shut up,” she smiled and you cackled. 

After that, the Rafe conversation was dropped as you pressed Carter for more details on her hook up with Topper. She tried to play cool, but you could tell there was something more going on under the surface that she didn’t want to say. You decided to be patient, if she was going to finally come to terms with her feelings for him, she was going to do it all on her own.

When she was finally done with your hair and makeup, you inspected yourself in the mirror. 

“Baddie,” she winked at you.

You blushed, “alright let’s go, the boys are probably waiting.”

Carter stood back and crossed her arms, giving you an incredulous look.

“What?” You questioned.

“You’re not wearing that.”

You looked down at your outfit, a crop top, black jeans, and boots. You thought it was a perfectly acceptable clubbing outfit, but Carter clearly disagreed.

“Why not?”

“We’re going out to, like, clubs. In downtown Miami. You gotta stunt on ‘em a little bit,” she argued.

“I am! Look how tight these jeans are,” you did a spin to display your point.

“Good thing I brought the perfect dress in your size for just such an occasion,” she ignored you.

“Oh okay so this was a premeditated makeover?” You smiled.

She ran down the hall to her room and returned with a lacy, red minidress. Knowing you’d lose any argument you posed, you changed into it reluctantly. The corset top hugged your waist, pushing your chest up. Your shoulders slumped instinctually, like you could hide away in yourself. You’d come a long way on your self-love journey, but your self-doubt still crept in from time to time. 

As per usual, Carter sensed it right away.

“Shoulders back, head up,” Carter reminded you. “Let ‘em know.”

You took a deep breath, nodding in the mirror, choosing to leave your insecurities behind. You’d borrow her faith in you for just one night.

As Carter, Maddie and Sabrina did their final touch ups and compared outfits, you pulled on your heels and headed downstairs. The other girls didn’t seem concerned with punctuality, but you were sure Topper was probably freaking out about how long they were taking.

It wasn’t Topper you found in the kitchen, though. 

Rafe stood at the sink with his back to you, his black button up pulled taught over his defined back muscles as he stared off into space and the cup in his hand overflowed.

You smiled, holding your shoulders back as Carter had taught you, bracing for him to see you in this dress.

“Thirsty?”

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He felt his resolve break with the rest of his brain, dizzy and drowning in the sight of you. He had the ridiculous urge to shield his eyes, like he was hiding them from the sun, your beauty too overwhelming to gaze directly at.

He set the glass down on the counter, drying his hands with a nearby towel, never once breaking eye contact with you.

Licking his lips quickly, he shamelessly let his eyes drag over your bare legs and up your body, knowing full well you could see him take in every inch of you. He didn’t care, he needed you to understand what you were doing to him.

When his eyes finally landed on yours, he clenched his jaw tight, nostrils flaring with his rising pulse. He tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, telling you silently: you’re killing me.

“You like it?” You whispered, running your hands over the lacy fabric.

Rafe opened his mouth to answer, planning something along the lines of “do I like it? Are you fucking kidding me?” but before he could, the rest of the girls came clamorring down the stairs behind you, stealing the moment. 

At the sound of clicking heels and giggles, the rest of the boys came filing into the room.

Rafe gave you one more longing look before handing Kelce the glass of water. Kelce tried to protest, but Rafe shoved it in his hands anyway.

“We’re not leaving ‘til you drink it,” Rafe scolded him.

“Taking over Topper’s mom duties?” Maddie laughed at the exchange.

“No, Rafe’s much more dad vibes,” Carter countered.

“Yes and mom and dad will be pissed if our Ubers leave, so let’s go children,” Topper herded the group toward the front door. 

Rafe took the now empty glass from Kelce and left it in the sink, and you lingered back for a second, pretending to fix your shoe so you’d both end up at the back of the pack. He watched as you bent down and fiddled with the slingback, hovering close when you stood.

“Nice dress,” he mumbled down to you.

“You think so?” You twisted your lips to keep from beaming at him, trying to maintain some semblance of nonchalance.

“There’s not much of it,” he teased, scratching the back of his head as he looked down over the lacy fabric. “But yeah, it’s nice.”

“You gonna give me the ‘you’re not leaving the house in that, young lady’ treatment?” You pressed him. “You really are like the dad.”

“Why? Would you change if I told you to?” He asked skeptically.

“Not a fucking chance,” you scoffed, swinging your hips as you spun and made for the front door.

He was really planning on staying away from you? What a fucking joke. He followed you out of the house like you had him on a leash. He was in for a long night.

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It took all of five minutes for Carter to grab Topper’s hand and pull him to the corner of the club, and it took even less time for their close talking to become a full on makeout.

You smirked at them as you ordered another drink, knowing you’d need something to help you get through this evening if Carter wasn’t going to be by your side. You could feel Tom’s eyes on you as he approached from the other side of the bar.

The whole Uber here, Tom had been eyeing you in the rear view mirror from the front seat. The only stare that made you more uncomfortable was Sabrina’s. It couldn’t be more clear that she’d grown attached to him on their jet ski ride, laughing loud at his unfunny jokes and hovering in his vicinity all night. You had unwittingly fallen into a love triangle you wanted nothing to do with.

You could feel his attempt to hit on you before he even spoke.

“Put her drink on my tab,” Tom told the bartender. 

“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” you said, not wanting to give him any openings.

“Not a problem,” he said. “I know I’ve been kind of a jerk today, the least I can do is buy you a drink to say sorry.”

The bartender handed you the glass, and you immediately took a sip, fiddling with the straw uncomfortably.

“Sorry for what?” You feigned ignorance.

“Last night, I didn’t mean to make you feel weird,” he said, stepping closer to you. He clearly couldn’t see the irony that he was apologizing for making you feel weird while actively making you feel weird. “I just think you’re really cool and I wanted to get to know you better.”

He was crowding your space now, the scent of his heavy cologne choking your senses. Just a few days ago, you found the same smell enticing, but now, there was only one person you wanted standing this close.

Your eyes flicked over Tom’s shoulder, scanning the crowd for him. You found him leaning against the wall, Kelce talking to him emphatically about something you couldn’t hear. You didn’t have to get his attention, his eyes were already on you. Tight lipped smile, you flicked your eyes between him and Tom, trying to communicate your need for his assistance.

Rafe didn’t need anything more to understand what you were asking, tuned in to your every move and sensing your need for him before you even caught his eye. He pushed off the wall and left Kelce talking to no one so he could shove his way through the crowd. Taller than almost everyone, you tracked him the whole way through the sea of people. Tom seemed none the wiser, continuing hitting on you.

“Maybe we could get out of here,” Tom suggested, leaning in a little too close so you could hear him over the music.

“Nah, not tonight bro.” 

Rafe appeared by your side just in time, forcing Tom to take a step back as he draped his arm over your shoulders possessively. Tom’s eyes flew between the two of you as you reached up to the hand on your shoulder and threaded your fingers with Rafe’s. Relief swelled through your body as Tom stepped back. You leaned into Rafe’s hold more, wrapping your arm around his waist and giving him a grateful squeeze. You knew he felt it when you saw his mouth perk up at the corners. But he didn’t take his eyes off Tom, his work here unfinished.

“Since when are you two together?” Tom puzzled defensively.

“Look man, why don’t you go find, uh, Sabrina,” Rafe waved him off. “Or literally any other girl here.”

As if Rafe’s suggestion had summoned her, Sabrina appeared at Tom’s side.

“Oh my god,” she slurred, eyes red and glossy with intoxication. “Are y’all a thing now? Girl, I never thought you’d actually do it. Good for you!”

It had the cadence of women supporting women, but the undertone was clear. You didn’t miss the disbelief in her tone, subtly trying to cut you down while appearing to lift you up. If Carter was here, she’d bitch her out. But you didn’t need saving from this one.

You tightened your hold on Rafe’s hand, swinging his arm from around your shoulders but not letting go. You pulled him away from Tom and Sabrina, leading him deep into the crowd on the dancefloor. 

Before he had the chance to ask what you were doing, you placed his hands on your waist, spinning in his grasp until your back was flush with his chest and moving to the music. He made no protest, squeezing you between his hands and swaying along with you. Tom and Sabrina watched from across the room, his jaw clenched and her arms crossed.

After a few minutes, both sets of eyes eventually left you, but you didn’t notice, and you didn’t stop. It wasn’t for show anymore. You closed your eyes as you continued to let the music move you. Rafe’s strong arms on either side of you, your brain flashed images of his half naked body in the kitchen and how he kneeled in front of you in the basement. The same fingertips that had so gently caressed your calf were now burrowing into the soft flesh of your hips. One of your arms stretched up, your palm finding the back of his neck, kneading his skin as you clung to him.

When you looked up to meet his eyes, they were ablaze with pure lust. Your lips parted to tell him you felt it too, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Instead you showed him, your body moving through the music like water. The bass pumped through your chest, tangling with your thumping heart beat until you couldn’t tell which was which. 

Rafe held you tight against him, like if he let you go you might slip under the waves again. His head sank low, until the tip of his nose was grazing just over the curve of your neck. He was hardly moving, not so much dancing as swaying, letting you do the work his eyes drank in every inch of your body.

With a precise roll of your hips, you pushed against him, and you nearly gasped at the feeling of something hard and demanding pressing into your hip. Your lips twisted with the sweetest satisfaction.

“Thought you were trying to be a gentleman,” you said over the music.

“I was,” he brought his lips to your ear so you could hear him. “But you’re making it too fucking hard.”

Smirking, you twisted in his arms until you were facing each other. You both caught the accidental euphemism and met eyes, breaking into matching laughter.

“You know what I mean,” he rolled his eyes.

“I don’t think I do,” you teased with a quirked eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”

His smile fell, as did his hands, lowering from your waist to your hips. You reached both arms up, wrapping around his neck and lacing your fingers behind him. 

His eyes swept over your face as he whispered, “you look so-”

“Cute?” 

You meant it in jest, but he didn’t laugh. His eyes darkened and his jaw clenched as he took you in, serious as hell when he said,

“So fucking beautiful.”

You shuddered in his arms, and he ran his hand down your exposed back, tracing his fingers delicately over your spine.

“Been driving me crazy since I saw you on the beach,” he continued.

His hand kept falling lower, though it slowed as it reached your lower back, asking for permission with his hesitancy. Your body arched into him without even thinking about it. His palm glided over your ass, the soft fabric of your dress and your plush flesh beneath it pulling an involuntary groan from him. He went lower still, slotting his fingers in the crease where your ass meets your thigh, lingering, setting up camp like he’d stay there all night if you let him. He found the spot so deliberately that you knew he’d been thinking about it for days. 

You waited with baited breath, your silence inviting him to keep talking. 

All he said next was your name. It was low and needy, like a request, or maybe a warning. Flames erupted in your stomach and sent a hot blush sweeping across your body.

“Do you…” your throat tightened with vulnerability, “do you want to go somewhere?”

Yes, Rafe thought, anywhere, for any amount of time.

But there was a small voice in the back of his head giving him pause. Your voice, earlier today in the shower, when you thought you were talking to someone else.

“I don’t want you to hate yourself,” he shook his head, sad eyes falling from your face to his shoes.

You tilted your head as you examined him, unsure for a moment what he meant. Then it clicked, realizing those were your words on his lips. He was the one who heard you in the bathroom. You fought the temptation to run away in embarrassment when you remembered what else he must’ve heard. 

After all you’d admitted to, the piece he was clearly holding onto was the only part you didn’t actually mean. You had added the detail about hating yourself when you thought you were talking to Carter and that she was upset with you.

It was too much to explain to him there on the crowded dance floor. You slipped your hand into his and pulled him from the crowd, out a side door and into the alleyway.

Once outside, you tucked your hair behind your ears and looked down anxiously at your feet. The loss of the music and the sobering night air weakened the boldness you had mustered inside.

“When you said we should go somewhere I wasn’t picturing so much garbage,” Rafe motioned towards the nearby dumpster. 

You laughed, his playful words successfully easing your nerves. You took a deep breath and reminded yourself why you’d brought him out here.

“You heard me, didn’t you? In the shower?” 

“I’m sorry,” he blushed, caught red handed. “I wasn’t trying to spy or anything. But…yeah.”

“I didn’t mean it,” you told him.

Hurt flashed in his eyes for just a second, before he nodded and squared his shoulders to cover it up.

“Got it,” he shrugged.

“No, I mean, the hating myself part,” you clarified. 

“So the other stuff…?” He was quick to follow up.

The door for you to finally tell him how you felt was wide open in front of you, but you weren’t sure if you could walk through it. The words you’d been holding back your whole life sat on the tip of your tongue, but refused to pass your lips. You looked at him helplessly.

“I can’t,” you shook your head.

Rafe sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“What? You can’t what?” 

Your mouth fell open in disbelief, incensed that he was the one with an attitude here.

“You know what?” You said, hands on your hips. “I don’t think you have a lot of room to be snapping at me, Rafe. Not after everything you’ve done.”

“Everything I’ve done?” He huffed. “Please, tell me what I did that’s so terrible?”

“Seriously? High school wasn’t that long ago, Rafe.”

“Look I know I was a dick, okay?” He stepped forward, voice softening a bit with his apology. “And maybe you’ll never forgive me. But all that shit? That guy? That’s in the past, and I don’t want to talk about the past anymore, I just wanna be with you now.”

“I don’t know, Rafe,” you shook your head sadly. “I don’t know if I can just pretend none of that happened.”

“How long then?” He threw his hands up in exasperation. “Tell me how long I’m gonna be paying for some shit I did when I was seventeen so I at least have an idea, please. Give me a date so I can plan for it.”

“Let’s see, Rafe, I wanted you for twelve years, you’ve wanted me for like two days. Does that seem even to you?”

Your words struck him, the anger in his eyes dissolving, replaced with tenderness. He stepped towards you tentatively, ducking just a bit to better read your face. 

“You really think I’ve only wanted you for two days?” He mumbled softly. “Baby…”

It was the second time he’d called you that today. You were in too much pain when he said it after you fell off the jet ski, but your brain had tucked it away subconsciously to revisit when you felt better. He’d called you baby before, when you were in high school. It had always given you butterflies, and you never called attention to it, afraid he’d stop if he realized how much it meant to you.

Since then, you’d reframed the memories to convince yourself that he never actually meant it, that it was some kind of manipulation tactic. But the way it rolled so naturally off his tongue earlier, and the way he’d breathed it so desperately now, made you reconsider.

“Please don’t call me that,” you pleaded. “Not if you don’t mean it.”

Rafe just blinked back at you, not an ounce of deception in his voice when he said, “I’ve always meant it.”

His confession pinched your heart, the whole story rewriting itself in your mind. For the first time ever, you let yourself actually believe that he cared for you, that he’d always cared for you. To anyone else who knew the whole story, it might seem unlikely, but seeing the look in his eyes right now, you had never been so sure of anything in your life.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him, your deep longing for him stronger than ever. He felt it too, you could tell by the way he drew closer, his body lining up with yours, eyes locked to your lips.

With the most tenderness you’ve ever encountered, he reached his hand up, the pad of his thumb landing on your bottom lip and pulling it gently from between your teeth, undoing you.

“Rafe…” you whispered, a plea and a question, as his lips ghosted over yours.

“Can I?” He breathed. “Please?”

You nodded, never meaning anything more than when you told him “yes.”

(chapter 7)

a/n: chat what do we think? are we forgiving him? only 3 chapters to goooo. Also I wrote “shoulders back. head up. let ‘em know.” on my bathroom mirror as my new morning mantra 💘

please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

[benegesseritofficial]

The effects of face paint on Harrowhark's psyche

I've now cosplayed Gideon Nav 3 times, with my wife along as Harrow every time. Naturally, this has included full face paint for both of us each time and I have some thoughts.

Let me start by asserting that everything Muir writes in TLT about the face paint is accurate. Rubbing off your lips first, smearing into gray where the black and white meet, the way sweat makes it ooze but not run. I can't say if Muir (a known Homestuck) ever cosplayed as a troll, but I'm positive she tested out the practicality of the skull face paint or otherwise has first hand experience with extensive use of grease paint. Also, the way she describes normal people flinching when they see you is spot on.

I've noticed while putting on the make up that once most of my skin is covered, any flesh tones sticking out start to become unsettling. Specifically, the red/pink of the inner mouth and around the eyes jump out upsettingly. Every time I've done skull paint I find myself meticulously trying to patch over these edges of skin, despite knowing that it's inside skin that Shouldn't Have Make Up On It. Once my face is monochrome, I don't want to be able to see a scrap of real human under there. Smiling, or otherwise opening your mouth wide enough to see the pink, looks UNSETTLING. My own skin causes the uncanny valley effect. You see where this is going. In NtN we learn Harrowhark disassociates often enough that Crux isn't surprised or concerned to see "Harrow" insisting she's someone else. Obviously this is due to her schizophrenia, and perhaps trauma besides. But it doesn't account for every aspect of why Harrow's "like that." On her most lucid days Harrow ignores her body to the point of sweating blood and passing out. She goes entire days without eating. She thinks of herself as a skeleton unfortunately covered in flesh. She sleeps in her paint.

All of which is heinous, but that last one has stuck with me. From age 13-18 I barely glanced down while I showered and whatever I saw I basically blocked out. I wore underwear and a bra under my pajamas to sleep every night. I was going through the wrong puberty, "my body was in open rebellion" as I liked to say at the time, and the only way to cope was to bind it down and pretend it wasn't happening. By Gideon's narration in HtN one gets the impression most nuns of the Ninth are putting their paint on after breakfast and taking it off when they get home. It's not even expected the average person wears it every time they leave the house. But Harrow regularly only takes her paint off in order to redo it. I suspect a combination of being the most brainwashed person in her own cult, knowing how she was conceived, and the regular disassociation make it very difficult for Harrow to conceptualize that she actually lives in a body. If she faced that fact head on she'd have to ask why it so often feels someone else is using her body. She'd have to cope with owning this body, being a part of this body, that was bought with the blood of 200 children who should have been her peers and friends. Instead she pretends it's an object on loan from them. And she does it with 10 layers of black petticoats and so much paint she never has to see her own skin.

Which brings me to the final thing I've noticed wearing full face paint. It dehumanizes you to yourself and everyone around you. I couldn't read my own expressions in a mirror. Even people who understood and were delighted with my cosplay were visibly nervous talking to me. You don't look like a person. Studies have shown that faces wearing heavy make up are ranked as harder to read and perceived as less empathetic. It's a particularly insidious trap of patriarchy that many women find self esteem in wearing make up, while that very act makes everyone around them treat them more callously. And, worst of all, if you stop wearing it once you're used to it, your naked face is shocking. You look sick due to your colors being less bold and the normal small flaws of your face appear unbearably ugly. With all this in mind, Harrow has trapped herself in a feedback loop of not being able to witness her own face and becoming more and more disgusted with the flesh and person underneath whenever she has to glance at it.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Infinite Rewind

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: Instead of dying, you are sent 13 years in the past, but this isn't your face. "Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"

Part two: Rewound Infinitely

Word Count: 18.1k

(Warnings: slight yandere, death, murder, inaccurate Tokyo geography, blood, violence, mild gore, obsession, unhealthy relationships, child abuse/neglect, time looping(?), fem!reader) Ageless blogs that try to follow me will be blocked

First, you saw a monster. 

It was big and horrible—nasty teeth. You heard screaming. People. Running as fast as they could away from the creatures. Pain. 

And then, you saw a bright, clear sky. 

The sun was blaring down at you. It was so hot. Wasn't it December? How was the sun out at night? 

"Hey, you good?" 

A girl is looking at you. Short brown hair. A high schooler, judging by the uniform. How is she wearing all black when the weather is so hot? 

When you don't respond, her eyes squint. 

"Suguru, are you okay?" 

That's not your name; your mouth moves faster than your brain.

"I-I'm fine." That wasn't your voice. It was deeper. More masculine. What the fuck happened to your voice? 

The girl gives you another strange look but you're too busy freaking out over your new voice. Your hands are different too. A completely different skin tone, larger. 

And then you're fumbling with your pockets, clothes you know you didn't buy. The girl is calling for you again but you're too busy pulling out a fucking flip-phone and looking into the black screen, the only thing you have for a mirror. 

Purple eyes stare back. These aren't your eyes. This isn't your nose. This isn't your hair. This isn't your face. You blink. He does too. You open your mouth. So does he. You pinch your cheek. In the reflection, he winces. 

Oh, you just fucking bodysnatched someone. 

ⴵ

Ten minutes later, you conclude that your name is Geto Suguru, you are a 16-year-old boy, the year is 2006, and you attend a religious academy. 

"You're finally acting normally again." The girl-newly discovered as Ieiri- says. "No more weirdness." 

You don't blame her, considering you grabbed her by the shoulders, asking ridiculous questions like: what year is it, who am I, why am I here, who are you, am I dead, is this Hell, etc. For a teenage girl, she took your outburst well. 

"Sorry," you say and by now you've gotten used to your voice, "it must have been the stress from studying." 

She just hums, continuing to walk beside you. Though, Ieiri had a point. You were definitely calmer, and it was mostly because you figured it out. 

You were dreaming. 

You were lucid dreaming, to be more precise. Your brain was conjuring up a weird setting and you just happened to be placed in another person's body. You heard about this happening before. You were just so freaked out because this was the first time anything like this had happened to you. 

An impulsive part of you wants to tell Ieiri that this is just a dream, but you've heard weird things happen after a lucid dreamer tries to break the illusion. It's best if you just let it just play out and see where this goes. 

“Excited?” 

“Hm?” You ask. And Shoko rolls her eyes. 

“For the mission you have this evening. Special grade. Sounds scary.” She says, her sarcasm evident. 

Mission? Special grade? You don’t know what those words mean but it sounds like a school field trip. Shoko takes your hesitance as something else. 

“Ah,” she says, “so you forgot.” 

“I didn’t.” You reply on instinct. 

“I expected this from Satoru, not you. You should stop hanging out with him, he’s starting to rub off on you.”

You give a sheepish laugh, and it’s enough to quell her questions. 

She leads you into the school, all through the winding halls and through an office door. You couldn’t be more grateful, it’s not like you would have known where to go. It’s a teachers room. Two people are already inside. 

“Wait, for once, I’m early?” The boy with sunglasses asks, voice dripping with amusement. He’s leaning dangerously on a chair. You stare at him. You’ve never seen someone with white hair before. It can’t be real. 

“He forgot.” Shoko pipes up and the boy cackles. 

“That’s hilarious. I’m starting to rub off on you.” Ah, this must be Satoru. 

You give a nervous smile. “Haha, yeah.” 

The boy stops rocking in the chair. Three pairs of eyes look at you. Your uniform feels itchy.

“Gojo, stop making such a ruckus.” The man, presumably his teacher, gruffs. "You two got the briefing yesterday. Do your job and for the last time do not leave your assistant manager behind again." 

Gojo groans, and you delve into more confusion. Before you can say anything, the kid is hopping out of his seat before lazily striding out the door. Shoko and the teacher look at you expectantly. 

Oh, you were supposed to follow him. 

Not wanting to make a scene, you catch up to Gojo. He's tall, his footsteps are long and wide. But you're tall now too, so it's easy to keep up with him. This new body of yours has a lot of pros. 

"Yaga's so annoying," Gojo suddenly says, "constantly nagging us like that. It's not our fault the assistants can't keep up." 

What should you say? You clear your throat. 

"He just wants what's best for us." 

Wrong answer. 

"Where'd that come from?" He snorts. How charming. "I know you agree with me. You're just tryna' act like the nicer one, again. It's starting to get a little old." 

Is that how 16 year-olds talk? Rude, but also strangely off-putting, like he can see straight through you. Or more accurately, he can see straight through Suguru. How close are these two, anyway? 

Why did any of these questions even matter? This is a dream! You need to wake up already. 

On the campus grounds, a sleek black car waits outside for you two. Along with a miffed man in a black suit. This must be a very rich school for a field trip to have a chauffeur. Where were you two going again?

Gojo hops in the back, taking one of the window seats. You take the other. In your own body, you would've fit nicely. But Suguru's legs are long, and the spacious car feels cramped. You should've taken the passenger seat. How do tall people live like this? 

The ride is quiet. Out the corner of your eye, you catch Satoru type away on his flip phone. A moment later, yours beeps. You still have no idea how to use Suguru's phone or his password, so you ignore his message. Satoru groans. 

Quickly, you learn that Satoru has a very low attention span. When looking out the window gets boring, he bugs the chauffeur. When the chauffeur ignores him, he starts bugging you. 

"Hey heyyyy," Satoru says, "when this is all over, we should go to that new ice cream place. Like you said, we should." 

You look at him. "Uh, sure." You say. 

"And you should pay for it, 'cuz you said you owed me last time." 

Fine, whatever. "Sure thing." 

He grins. You can't see his glasses, and it makes his smile even more unnerving. This kid. 

This doesn't feel like a normal field trip at all. Why did you stop in front of some rackety house that looked as though it were about to collapse? You turn back to the only adult in the vicinity, but he's out too. He takes out a lighter and a cigarette. In front of impressionable children, too. Wonderful. 

"I'll wait out here." He says, though his tone is uncaring. "Since we're out in the country, there's no need for a veil. Do your best." 

Veil? What? Gojo's already going off again and you've already decided to be his chaperone, so you follow. You reluctantly trail behind him. Feet crunch the leaves. The house grows bleaker and bleaker. 

"Okay, I have a plan!" Gojo exclaims when he gets through the squeaky door. He's so loud, can't he be quieter? "I check upstairs and you check the ground floor and the basement. Got it?" 

Check the house? Were he and Suguru electricians in training or something? That still wouldn't explain why a grown man decided to drop off two teenagers in front of a creepy mansion. And why in God's name did Gojo want to split up?

"I-I don't think that's a good idea," you say, "shouldn't we try to stick together?" Or, better yet, leave. 

He clicks his tongue. "Ugh, you're so lame. Not like Suguru at all." 

Wait, what did he say? You're about to call out to him when he climbs up the stairs, disappearing from view. Unbelievable. 

This kid was starting to get on your nerves. Enough, you were leaving. You could have a nice dream where you met and fell in love with Zendaya, not babysitting some teenager, whilst possessing another person's body. You were going to wait outside with the man and hope your dream finally came to an end. 

Except, you couldn't go outside. The door was gone. 

It-it was right behind you, right? The entrance was right behind you. You couldn't have gotten turned around so quickly? What the hell happened? Or maybe you had gotten turned around? Considering how distracting that Gojo kid was, you might not have realized it. 

You look around the house. Looks like it'd been abandoned for a while. There's dirt on the shelves. Chairs were toppled over and left to rot. The wooden floorboards dangerously creaked beneath you. Just what had happened here? 

There's no patio door. No door leading to the outside. At the same time, you hadn't explored everything yet. Each door led to a room. The only door that didn't, led to a basement. And no, you weren't going down there. 

When you got back to where you started, you noticed something had changed. 

There was a person. Seated right at the base of the stairs? 

Gojo? Was he done with urban exploring? Maybe he knew the way out. He stands up, reaching to his full height, then higher, then higher. 

Gojo was tall, but this thing was taller. Gojo was human. This thing wasn't. 

What the fuck you can only mouth because your voice is stuck in your throat when it takes a shaky step towards you. It's a black husk of a figure, too skinny but too tall and twitching fingers. You don't know how you could've mistaken this for the kid. 

Another step. You're running, back into the house, leaping over the fallen shelves and creaky floorboards. It gives chase, and you can hear it groan behind you. It's deep and rumbly and terrifying. It just motivates you to go faster. 

It's slower than you. That's good, but it seems to realize this. You can barely celebrate your advantage before something heavy is smashed into your back, sending you toppling to the floor. You and wooden chair crash on the ground. 

It hurts. 

Everything hurts. 

Dreams aren't supposed to hurt. Because this wasn't a dream. 

This was real. You were stuck in the year 2006, stuck in another person's body, about to get mauled by a monster. 

You were going to die. 

You aren't even fighting anymore. How pathetic is that? The shock numbs your body as the thing grows closer and closer, all you can do is reach your hands up, protecting your face. 

And then the creature explodes. 

An implosion. It's skin and bones twist in a way no one should. There's a shriek, something wrong and high and inhuman before it's gone. Like it never existed in the first place. 

After all that, he's still smiling. Like the cat that just caught the mouse. 

"I guess we're not pretending anymore, are we?" Gojo asks, stretching his arms. "That's good. That game was starting to get a little boring, anyways. Now, then." 

He folds his glasses, tucking it on his uniform. Blue, his eyes are. As blue as a clear sky. 

"Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you, and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"

ⴵ

Contrary to your belief, Gojo Satoru is a good listener. 

There's never an interruption. Not even once. Every once in a while, he nods, a hand on his chin. It's probably because he can't interrupt. You just keep going on and on. Word vomit. 

He only speaks when you pause to catch your breath. "So you are from the year 2017, and you went back in time to body-snatch someone. I had a feeling your technique had something to do with possession." 

You look at him warily. "Wait, you knew this entire time?" 

You two hadn't moved from your earlier spot. You were still sprawled on the floor, still feeling the adrenaline surge through you. Gojo had transitioned to squatting on the floor. He scratches his neck, still so casual. 

"I have good eyes. Don't worry about it." He shrugs. "Anyway, you seem pretty harmless, and as annoying as it is not having Suguru around, I doubt killing you would do any good." Why is he being so nonchalant about murder? Is this kid really sixteen?

"I think we gotta' just wait around until your technique reactivates." Gojo whistles. "2017. That's like a decade away. I wonder what happened for your technique to show up." 

You blink, trying to remember the date. 

"It was Christmas Eve..." You glance at him. "And then I was here." 

He thinks for a moment. "Yeah, I got nothing." Of course. 

He sighs, before sprawling on the dirty floor, belly up. You grimace at his antics but choose to keep your mouth shut. 

He doesn't seem very worried. At the most, he looks mildly inconvenienced. Why isn't he worried about his friend? 

When you ask him, he just snorts. 

"Sorry, but you're not that scary. Besides, I don't have to worry about Suguru. He's strong." 

Well, that's nice to know, but one other thing still bothers you. 

"You speak so casually to me," you mutter, "You know I'm older than you, right? I'm 22." 

He laughs. "22? Damn. You're old, man." 

"That isn't old!" You argue. "You have no concept of age since you're just a teenager." And why did he assume you were a man? Oh right, you were trapped in a teenage boy’s body. Of course.

"I mean, technically, I'm older than you, right?" Gojo ponders with a grin. "If you're 22 in 2017, that makes you what—11 in 2006?" 

You say nothing because you have a feeling that if you continue to argue with him, he'll just drag you down to his insanity. 

"Technique, you've said that a couple of times." You look at him. "That's what you call your 'powers', right? Does Geto have one too?" 

"Yeah," Gojo says, "but you can't use it. You have zero cursed energy. Honestly, it's at the same level as a plant. A bit lower than regular humans. It's a little impressive, actually." For one second, could he stop being so condescending? 

"What's his technique?" You ignore his comments. "Could it be related to how I got here?" 

He gives you a look over. "I doubt that, but Suguru's technique is curse manipulation. Uh, you remember that thing you saw earlier." You nod. "Yeah, he can control and absorb them." 

He sounds pretty awesome. You look at your hands. Not your hands. Geto's hands. They're paler than yours, and a lot longer. This isn't your body. Your soul can feel it. You can feel the guilt too. 

'I'd give it back if I could,' you think, 'I just don't know how.' 

Gojo's getting up. He stretches. He was lying on the ground but you can't see a speck of dirt on his uniform. 

"Okay, then. No use mopping around." He grins down at you. "Maybe Yaga can do something about you. Let's get you back to jujutsu tech." 

You blink up at him. His hand is outstretched, reaching out to you. He's still grinning that insufferable grin but his eyes have slightly melted. 

"Okay." You say, barely touching his fingertips. "Let's-" 

And then Gojo's gone. And then, you're standing. And then it's cold. 

You're wearing a coat; weren't you wearing a uniform before? There's no clear sky. It's nearly dusk. 

You were standing on the sidewalk, where people bustled all around you. You fumble through your jackets, putting out a phone. An actual iphone. You flick on the screen. 

December 24th, 2017, 7:06.

Holy shit, you were back. 

Was it because you touched Gojo? That makes no sense, but how could you explain anything else that happened so far? God. You rake a hand through your hair. Your hand. Your hair. You can't believe how much you missed yourself. It felt so good to be back. 

Your mind is spinning, you had no idea what the fuck just happened.

For now, you just wanted to turn your mind off and grab a drink. 

You know there was a bar not too far from your location. Along the way, you pass by the bustling town. There's a couple walking side by side, giggling over something you couldn't hear. Right, it's the 24th. You remember your empty bed with no one to share it with, and you cement your desire to drown yourself in alcohol today. 

Your self-pitying session is almost how you nearly miss him. His shoulder brushes past you. You're about to apologize when you hear his voice. It's familiar. 

It used to be your voice. 

It's all there. Black hair, but it's longer this time around. Of course it is, he's had years to grow it out. He's tall, he must've grown since highschool. His broad back is the only thing you see, you're almost afraid to reach out to him. 

"Suguru...?" 

He halts in his tracks. When he turns around, it's like looking into a fractured past. He looks older, no longer a youthful teenager. You should have paid more attention to his eyes, how scrutinizing they were, how condescending his fake smile was. All that you could think of was that it was actually him. 

"Do I know you?" He tilts his head. "Apologies, but my girls and I are quite busy." 

You don't notice the two young ladies beside him until Geto points them out. Teenagers, maybe just around the age when you first met him. He was a father now. 

You're so swept up by the emotions that you barely notice they've continued walking. You stumble behind, ducking behind the alleyway they went into. 

"Wait! Geto!" You call. "Please! We need to talk!" You still needed your answers. You didn't know care how desperate you came off as. 

In hindsight, you should have noticed that they looked more annoyed than worried about a stranger chasing them across the street. 

The one with the ponytail scoffs. "This one talks an awful lot. How annoying." 

Geto sighs. He leaves his daughters, finally standing in front of you. This is what you wanted, right? A chance to talk to him. 

Still, you can't help but feel wrongness within you. His smile is off. 

"Most monkeys are just that, unfortunately." You don't move. You can't. Not when he places a hand on your skull. "I suppose it'd be humane to put this one out of its misery." 

Geto Suguru crushes your skull. And then you die. 

ⴵ

Again. You died again. 

This is the second time Geto has killed you. Fuck, you should've realized. 

"Back again, Greeny?" Gojo asks. 

He and Suguru were sitting outside in the grass. Satoru's holding up a few playing cards. You look at Suguru's hands and find yourself doing the same. 

Not again. 

"What year is it?" You ask warily. "And what did you just call me?" 

Gojo grins with teeth. You remember he compared you to a plant before, didn't he? He's so clever with nicknames; someone should give him an award. 

"Welcome back to 2006!" Gojo beams. "It's only been a couple of days since you left. And why are you so grumpy? I'm the one who just lost a player." 

You weren't grumpy, you were pissed. You figured out what's been going on with you, and it's all because of the asshole you're possessing right now.

The look on his face when he killed you. Like you were nothing more than an animal. A monkey. Now, you feel a lot less guilty about possessing his body. 

At least you figured out two things. You know how your technique works. Whenever someone kills you, you are sent back in time to take over their body. But you can go back whenever you touch Gojo, or perhaps just another sorcerer. 

Secondly, you have access to Geto's memories. 

It didn't happen the first time you died. It must have been because the kill wasn't direct (from Getos curse, rather than himself), but milliseconds after Geto split your skull in two, your brain was overwhelmed by his past, his present, as well as his future. 

Geto was set to die on December 24th, 2017. At the hands of his best friend, Gojo Satoru. 

Fuck him. Let the bastard die. You didn't give a shit. 

You reach over to touch Gojo's arm, ready to leave. He pulls back with a snicker. Ugh, the brat must've figured out your technique, too. 

"Stop messing around." You tell him. "I need to go back to my timeline." 

"Sure, sure," he says as though speaking to a time traveler is just another Tuesday. "But first, finish the game with me." 

"No." You tell him before leaning out even further. He isn't moving away anymore, but you still can't reach him. Fuck, he must've activated his technique. 

Despite your annoyance, you decide to keep the future away from Gojo's ears. He doesn't need to know that he'll be the one to kill Suguru. He shouldn't. Not at his age. He's just a kid. 

"Just one game! I promise!" He pleads. "Then I'll let you go. Suguru never lets me beat him, I want an easy opponent to boost my ego." 

You roll your eyes, but you settle down, picking up the cards. You already know the rules; you have Geto's memories, after all. 

It's silent, save for Gojo's humming. When you place down your King of hearts, you ask:

"Hey, is my cursed energy different at all?" You ask.

"Not really." He squints. "Wait, it has grown a little. Aw, Greeny sprouted!" 

So, every time you die, your cursed energy increases. That, or your cursed energy, increases every time you time travel. It doesn't matter either way. Does this mean you can use Geto's technique now? It couldn't hurt to try, right? 

There's a demon-no, they're called curses you know that now- floating beside you, just a little ways away. Small. Barely fourth grade. You stick your hand out, calling out Geto's power. There's a pull, a rush of energy. 

A blue ball drops into your hand. 

"Holy shit." Gojo leans forward. "So you can use his techniques." Surprisingly, there's no wariness in his voice. Just awe. 

"Yeah." You breathe before glancing up at him. "Shouldn't you be focused on your cards?" 

He shrugs, tossing the cards away. "What cards?" 

You sigh before staring at the ball. Well, you captured the curse. All that's left to do is swallow it, right? You can do that. You open your mouth. Gojo is still staring. You scowl. 

"Look away." 

He rolls his eyes. "It's not like I haven't seen you do this before. Well, not you, the guy that you bodysnatched." 

Ass, you keep that in your head as you hold your breath. You swallow the ball down. 

Instantly, you choke. 

It's horrible. Like a rotten carcass on the highway, oozing blood and oil and pus. You start dry-heaving, suffocating, spit dribbles down your chin. Nothing comes out. You've already absorbed it. The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. Like swallowing a rag that was used to wipe up vomit and shit. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. 

"Is it really that bad?" Gojo observes you. "That guy swallows them down, no problem." 

Because Suguru was used to this taste. He was used to the responsibility. The hoarding mass of distraught absorbing a curse comes with. It was a disgusting art. Something he'd perfected to mask for years. Until he couldn't take it anymore. 

Fuck, you might have lost your mind, too, if you kept having to eat this. To protect people who were happy you failed. 

You snapped out of it. Suguru's memories were affecting your own. That's probably a sign that you need to get out of here. No way would you be sympathizing with someone so monstrous. 

"Hopefully, I never do that again." You slowly recover, wiping your spit away with your hand. You lean back on your hands, exhausted. 

"Something I've always wondered." You call out to Gojo. "What did Suguru ever think about someone possessing his body." 

Gojo laughed. "Funny thing. He never knew." 

"What?" You look at him. "No gaps in his memory? Nothing?" 

"Nope," Gojo said, "he remembered what happened in the house, but he thinks he did everything. And then he said something weird." 

You perk up at that. "What did he say?" 

Gojo tilts his head. Then, he shrugs. 

"I forgot." Typical. 

You pinch your nose bridge. "So, did you tell anyone else about...this?" You gesture to yourself. 

"Wait, you're supposed to be a secret?" You look at him in alarm. "In my defense, I didn't know, but I haven't gotten the chance to tell anyone. After the mission, Suguru and I went to the arcade, and then I kinda' forgot about it." 

Well, at least Gojo's arrogance works in your favor sometimes. You can't let anyone know, especially anyone connected to the higher-ups. From Geto's memories, you know they don't like anything new. It's best to stay under their radar. 

"Good, well, from now on, we're keeping it a secret. Got it?" 

"What are you two keeping a secret?" A new voice pops up. You jump. 

You know him—at least from Geto's memories. Haibara beams at you. He looks so alive in the sunlight, smiling and with bright eyes.

He'll be dead within a year or so. 

Gojo takes advantage of your shock. "The bodysnatcher wants me to promise that I won't tell anyone that a curse-user is possessing Suguru's body." 

"What the hell? You just promised that you wouldn't tell anyone!" 

"Uh, technically, I didn't promise anything yet." Gojo retaliates. "But okay, fiiiiine. I won't tell anyone....except for Haibara." You groan. 

"What's going on?" Haibara's smile fades. "Wait, Gojo, is this not Geto? Is this person actually a curse-user!?" 

"I'm not a curse-user." You correct. "I'm not a sorcerer either, for the record." 

"You just used a curse technique to travel back in time to take over someone's body." Gojo enunciates. "Sounds like a sorcerer to me." 

"Wait, you're a time-traveler, Mr. Not-Geto?" Haibara asks and you are genuinely impressed he's able to keep up. 

"The name’s Greeny, Haibara." Gojo supplements. Haibara nods, still a bit unsure. 

"So...do we fight Greeny?" 

"It's not my name." You get ignored. 

"Nah, it's all good. Greeny's harmless. Just a weakling, don’t worry about it." Rude, but you don’t think you’d want Gojo to take you as much of a threat, not after knowing what he can do.

"Oh, okay!" Haibara instantly relaxes. The kid's really trusting, huh? 

"Okay, fine, but no one else can know, got it, Gojo?" This promise doesn't matter. It's not like you're planning on returning to the past anytime soon. As soon as you return to the present, you are leaving Tokyo and escaping the night parade of 100 demons. Fuck that. You don't want to die again. 

He waves you off. "Yeah, yeah."

He's so insufferable. You don't know who's worse: the genocidal maniac or this brat. 

"Give me your hand. I want to go home." 

Haibara looks confused. "Wait, why does Greeny need your hand?" 

"It's how the curse technique works," Gojo explains. "Greeny gets sent back in time, and then my true-love's touch sends him careening forward into the future." You frown at his comment, but he turns to you before you can say anything. 

"Which reminds me, Greeny: ever figure out how your technique works?" 

No way are you telling a kid that their best friend killed you....twice. Instead, you just shrug. 

"Haven't figured it out yet." 

Gojo stares at you. "Huh." He responds. "Well, if you ever figure it out, lemme' know." 

Sure you will. You hold up your hand. Gojo, finally holds his own up. Out of the corner of your eye, Haibara waves. And then you're back in your own body, on December 24th, 2017, 7:06 pm.

You waste no time. You push at the crowd, squeezing through the hoards of people. You need to get out. You need to leave before the death parade starts, before you're trapped in that terrifying cycle of death again. 

You need to leave. 

Exorcised. Ingested. 

No no no. Shut up. This wasn't you. This was Geto's memories. 

Exorcised. Ingested.  

You need to leave. 

Exorcised. Ingested. 

You need to survive. 

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. 

You stop, right there in the middle of the sidewalk. People glare, cursing as they move around you. They don't know this place will be a bloodbath in a matter of minutes. They'd all die. But you could stop it. 

If only if you hadn't accessed Geto's memories. If only if you hadn't eaten that damn curse. If only if you hadn't sympathized with a murderer. Maybe you'd have the courage to escape your future. 

But you'd felt that taste. Horrible. If you eat enough, you could go insane. If you were lonely enough, that would do it too. 

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. No one except for you. 

At 8:06 the screams start. The monsters come out to play their song. You close your eyes, forgive Suguru, and you die once more. 

ⴵ

For once, when you open your eyes, Gojo isn’t there with you. 

You’re still on the campus of Jujutsu tech. Suguru was just about to grab his soda from the vending machine. You finish his job. The can feels cold. It feels refreshing on your tongue. It’s a momentary distraction to the fact that you have no clue what you’re doing. 

You understand your cursed technique, but you still struggle with the application. Fuck, what did you do? You were utterly fucked. You’re playing a dangerous game. If you died- if Geto died- here, what would even happen? 

 The worst part is that you can’t even think of the hypothetical because there’s no other choice. You needed to do this. To not only save the people in Tokyo from the Night Parade, but to also save Geto Suguru. The man who has killed you three times now. 

Geto’s dissent starts to worsen at Riko Amanai’s death. If you could prevent that from happening, you could probably change history. But Geto’s true fracture begins with the curses themselves. They were rotting him from the inside.

You grimace, but you have to do it. You have to eat every single curse that Geto couldn’t swallow down himself. 

One was coming up. In less than an hour, Yaga will call you and Gojo for a mission. It’ll be a special-grade grave-type curse. Dispatching it will be simple, but Geto would be the one to exorcise it, ingesting the screams of all that the curse devoured. You needed to prepare yourself for that. 

Maybe you should save some of this soda to wash the taste off later. 

“Geto!” Someone cheers, you jump, but Haibara’s already poking his head around the wall. He grins. 

“Hey! Oh, you’re not Geto, aren’t you?” He tilts his head. “Greeny?” 

“Keep your voice down,” you whisper, “wait, you can recognize me?” 

He nods, after checking to make sure no one’s around, he says, “yeah, your eyes are different? It’s hard to explain.” He tells you. 

Huh. Interesting. 

“You’ve been gone a while.” Haibara beams. “It’s been a few weeks. I’m glad you’re back, Gojo was starting to get cranky.” 

It’s probably because he had no one to mess with. Poor him. He has all your sympathies. Ass. 

“I’m glad to return as his punching back.” You mutter. 

Haibara shyly shuffles his feet. 

“So, are you really from the future?” He asks. “Was Gojo telling the truth?” 

You nod. “Haibara, you haven’t told anyone, right?” 

“Of course not!” He instantly says. “Not a soul. Not even Nanami, and I tell him everything! Your secret’s safe with me.” 

“And Gojo, too! I know he doesn’t look very trustworthy, but me and him have kept it under wraps.” 

Reluctantly, you can’t help but agree with the kid. Gojo is annoying, but so far, he hasn’t done anything super harmful. 

“So anyway, Greeny.” He clears his throat. “Considering you’re from the future and all. Would you mind telling me what my future will be like?” 

You blink at him. He takes it as a sign to continue. “Nothing much! I just wanna know what I’ll be doing in 2017. Will I finally be a grade 1 sorcerer?” 

You think of Geto’s final memories of Haibara. A child burying another child. 

“Sorry,” you lie through your teeth, “but I didn’t know you in my future. Again, I’m not really a sorcerer.” 

Haibara nods, disappointed but still very excitable. He asks you about other things about the future, and you try to answer to the best of your ability, but you can’t shake off his dead glass eyes, staring at you from the morgue. 

“Another thing, we should have a code word.” Haibara exclaims. 

You blink. “A code word?” 

“If we ever meet in the future,” he explains, “y’know, in 'Groundhog’s day', he has to keep explaining what’s happening repeatedly? In order to prevent that, we should have a secret word between eachother so I instantly know who you are.” 

Not the same exact situation, but it sounds like exactly something a child would come up with. You indulge him anyway. 

“Okay, what did you have in mind?” 

“Well, it can’t be anything too crazy, or we might attract unwanted attention.” Haibara puts a hand on his chin in serious thought. You smile. 

“Got it! If you ever see me, just yell ‘brocolli head’ really really loudly. Then I’ll know.” Haibara chirps. 

“Wait, why broccoli head?”

“Because broccoli heads are green!” Haibara chirps happily.

You’re starting to learn it’s best not to question his logic.

You nod, very amused. “Sure thing, Haibara.”  

Someone calls out his name. He jumps before he waves to you. You watch as he joins with Nanami. They talk about something you can’t hear. Haibara laughs and you decide it would be a shame if his laugh was lost to death. 

Gojo finds you eventually. You can’t hide from him forever. You were walking into the school when he caught up with you. He’d ran there. His breath was slightly ragged. 

“Greeny, couldn’t get enough last time, huh?” You shoot him a look. 

“What are you talking about? Doesn’t matter, we need to go, the missions coming up.” 

Gojo’s smile dips ever so slightly. “How’d you know about that?” 

It’s probably not a good idea to tell the guy's best friend that you’re possessing that you’ve unlocked his memories. 

“Haibara told me.” 

“Ah,” He replies, “let’s go then.” 

The car ride is different this time around. Less tension. You aren’t as confused. Gojo is seated quietly beside you, watching the scenery go by. The assistant is too preoccupied with belting the radio to notice Gojo's words. 

“Figured it out yet?” He asks. “Your technique.” 

He's persistent about that answer, isn't he? You're sure the only reason Gojo cooperates with you is because he thinks you're inhabiting Suguru's on accident. How would he react if he knew you were doing it intentionally? It's best not to get on the strongests’ bad side. 

“Oh, not really, but I think it’s random. I can’t seem to find a set pattern. Maybe Suguru calls out to me, somehow?” 

“Maybe.” Gojo replies. His time is flat. Anxiety flips through your stomach. 

“You’re different this time around,” Gojo says. 

“Am I?” You ask. “I guess I’m just more determined today.” 

He gives you a look over. "Oh yeah? What for?" 

"The curse. I'll exorcise it, today." 

You don't know how you wanted Gojo to react to that, but you're still disappointed when he turns back to the window. 

"Do whatever, Greeny." 

In the end, you do swallow the curse. You manage to hold your gags in this time. 

It's worse than before. It makes sense. This curse was first-grade. Stronger. In terms of taste, it was like curdled blood and mold. You were so grateful for that soda. 

Gojo only watches with a tilted head. 

"You're getting better at that."

You give a weak grin. 

"Practice makes perfect," you reply, "do you think I'll get strong enough to absorb a special grade soon?" 

He doesn't like your question. You can see it in his stiff expression. 

"Maybe. Why do you want to swallow up curses, anyway? Last time you were here, you were practically begging to go back." 

His response wasn't exactly hostile but far from his usual playful attitude. You knew you'd have to confront this eventually. Despite how nonchalant he acted, it's clear Satrou doesn't enjoy watching someone prance around in his friend's body like this. If he starts to dislike you, it could rupture your entire plan. You need his cooperation, more than anything, to save Suguru. 

A little bit of the truth. Just a bit. It can't hurt, can it?

"Curses taste horrible," you say, looking at the ground. You can still taste the remnants of it, "it's the worst thing in the world. I can't even explain how wrong it feels to eat one. I thought...while I'm in his body...I could maybe help Suguru a little. I could ingest the curses in his stead, so that way, he still gets to absorb it." But it'll lessen the trauma it has on his mental state. 

You can't see how Gojo feels about that. Those glasses of his cover everything. But you know he's staring at you. The six eyes are taking you apart, observing you whole. 

"Did you know Suguru in the future?" He asks. 

"I didn't." The man that killed you. The man that will keep killing you. And you'd forgive him each time. 

Another beat of silence.

Finally, he just sighs. "You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?" 

You give a sheepish laugh.

"That isn't a compliment, by the way. You're just really reckless. And maybe stupid, Greeny." His tone isn't mean. 

"My name still isn't Greeny." You tell him. 

"Oh yeah, what's your name, then?" He's reverted back to that teasing lilt, and it almost makes you relax if you don't note the curiosity underneath. 

So far, you've been lax giving away information regarding the future, but you don't think you should continue that. What if you're too careless and the future changes in a way you didn't intend? A name, personal information, that could be way too dangerous. 

"Actually, just call me Greeny. I like that name a lot better." 

"You complained about it all the time, though?" Gojo argues. 

"It's starting to grow on me." You grin. "Grow? Get it, because you compared me to a plant and-"

"Stop stop, you really are an old man." Gojo groans. You just grin wider. Then, you grimace.

“I can still taste it.” You complain. “I’d kill for a cigarette right now.”

“I caught our assistant manager smoking a while back,” Satoru suggests. “Maybe you could go and beg him for one.”

You toss him a look. “Suguru doesn’t smoke, and I’m not giving a teenager a nicotine addiction.” You have found lighters inside Suguru’s pockets, but you have a feeling it isn’t for his own cravings.

"Hey, could you do me a favor?" 

He gives a wordless hum.

"Maybe after this, could you take Suguru out to a cafe'? I can taste the aftertaste of the curse." You shudder. "Just get him something to wash it down." 

Also, Suguru couldn't go back to his dorm after this. Suguru dissented because of his fractured relationship with everyone, not just with Satoru. You'd try to bridge the gap between him and his peers as much as you can. You go through Suguru's flip phone, asking Shoko if she wants to join the two. 

When you're done with that, you snap the phone closed. 

"Okay, I'm done here. You two have fun, okay?" You raise your hand. 

Gojo just huffs, amused. "Sure sure. By the way, someone wanted to thank you." 

You blink at that. "What?" 

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."

He gives you a high-five, and then you're back in 2017 in your own body. 

Temporarily. So far you figured out that you get sent back an hour before the night parade happens. 8:06. Considering you have a couple more minutes to kill before you’re killed, you reach into your pocket for that cigarette you’ve been craving. You pick the first out of the box, cherry burns just out of corner of your eye.

You notice things now. The children giggled to their parents. Old couples gingerly held hands with sweet smiles. You'd save them, but first, you need to save Suguru. 

And do really do that, you'd have to save Riko. 

Easier said than done. You could go back in time, but you can't really control when to go back in time. It's been random, but your trips are typically two days away from each other. You can work with that. 

But in order to get to Riko's death, you'd have to die...a lot. Absorbing curses made Suguru lose his mind, but how well would you fare with dying over and over again? 

"Hungry?" 

Someone looms over you. A woman. She's pretty, with short hair and bangs. In her hand, she holds a bag of chips. 

"The vending machine gave me an extra." She gives a laugh. She kind of sounds like you. "Would you like one?" 

"Oh." You take it. "Thanks." 

"Don't mention it." She trots off into the crowd. You watch her.

A stranger's act of kindness. She didn't even know what would happen to her soon. You grip the bag, it crinkles in your grasp. 

It didn't matter how well you'd fare with dying over and over again. You'd get over it. So many innocent people depended on you. You can't just abandon them like this. 

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right? It's aggravating how accurate he is, honestly. 

The screams start up again, and you forgive Suguru. 

ⴵ

It takes a few cycles to finally reach the day Amanai Riko is assassinated. Whenever you deem yourself too early, you often accompany Gojo on a mission and exorcise a special-grade curse. Your overall plan is working, bit by bit. Each time you return, Suguru's memories swarm you. Each curse he remembers as less painful. 

It's why you get worried when you get there a little too late. 

"Something wrong?" Riko asks. 

You've stopped in the middle of the hallway, and of course, they're looking at you strangely. You know this place. Tengen's barrier is just an elevator ride away. Suguru, Riko, and Miss Kuroi were all almost there.

Fushiguro Toji has already arrived. 

In the first timeline, Geto leads the girls all the way down to Tengen's barrier. He puts his trust in Gojo. Of course, he would. They're the strongest. And in the end, Gojo does kill Toji. 

But the kill comes too late. Riko still dies, and the fracturing happens. 

You thought you'd have more time. If you had arrived a bit earlier, you could have fought with Gojo, and the chances of defeating Toji would have significantly increased. 

What do you do?

"What's the matter?" Miss Kuroi asks. She's supposed to die today, too. 

"Sorry, ladies." You smile. "But I need to go back for him." 

You don't answer their calls, running back up the hallway. The sun's bright, shimmering beautifully in the sky.

It contradicts the blood dripping all over the stone floor. 

Gojo's lifeless body is draped across the rubble. It's a horrifying sight. Eyes that were once like the sky are just this empty blue. A dead sea. He isn't breathing. You know, if you touched his wrist, you wouldn't feel a heartbeat. 

"Hate to break it to ya', but the Gojo kid's dead." Toji's right behind you. You can feel him grinning. 

You know Gojo isn't dead. At least, he won't be dead for a while, but seeing the boy who used to tease you, annoy the shit out of you, laugh at you, be so....it made you freeze. Falter. 

You were wasting time. 

"Sorceror killer." You say after a minute. You almost can't bring yourself to turn, to look at him. The man who kills Gojo. The man who could've killed Suguru, but chose not to. "You certainly live up to your name." 

Toji's grin widens. The only man in the world with zero cursed energy. It'd be awe-inspiring if it weren't so terrifying. 

It's funny. You weren't afraid of dying, not anymore. You were afraid of failing. Failing when you were so close, when victory was just a blink away. 

"The flyheads." You mention to the swarms of curses all around you. "That's really smart." It gives you an idea or two. 

You have Suguru's memories, but they aren't always concrete. You just have snippets. A general idea of what happened within a certain event. It makes sense. Humans can't remember everything. 

But regarding the memories of Suguru and Fushiguro, everything is crystal clear. It's almost like you were there when it happened. 

It also means that you know Suguru, at this current level, won't be able to defeat Fushiguro. 

But Suguru doesn't need to beat the sorcerer killer; he just needs to hold him off. 

Currently, Suguru's body contains 368 curses: 3 special grades, 24 grade ones, 33 grade twos, 103 grade threes, and 205 fourth grades. 

You release all 368 of them. 

In another timeline, these curses would look to you as something to devour. Today, these curses have a new target. 

It won't stop Fushiguro. You're not dumb enough to think that. But it should give you time. Hopefully, it'll be enough time. 

Your knees hurt when you collapse next to the corpse. Gojo's so beautiful, even when he's dead. 

"Gojo." You shake him. Nothing happens. "You need to wake up. Gojo." 

Nothing happens. You don't know what caused Gojo to become the strongest, Suguru wasn't there. For once, you are blind to the past. 

"Riko needs you. Wake up. You-you need to go and save her and Miss Kuroi." 

His body's so cold, and you know he's dead because when you touch his skin, you don't wake up in the present. You push against his body, and he falls limply right back to place. You're sure this sight will haunt you for the rest of your life. 

"Satoru." You beg. "It's Greeny. Please, please, please wake up."

 Nothing happens. 

Everything happens. 

The brightest blue you've ever seen. It's heavenly. A glow that warms and chills your skin. It takes a while for you to see again. When you do, Satoru is standing. 

Somehow, his eyes are even brighter. You don't think you're looking at a teenage boy anymore. 

You're sitting in front of God. 

"Greeny." he states, voice flat. "You're late." 

You manage to smile.

"Sorry." 

You’ve seen Satoru fight before. He’s always calm, body relaxed as he practically floats in the air. Those fights differed from Suguru’s memories—post Satoru’s awakening. There’s always this twinge of desperation. An aftertaste of bloodlust.

But seeing it for yourself is something else entirely. Even with Suguru’s heightened senses, you still can’t follow him. He’s barely a mirage. One milisecond you can see a blue flash, the next you see nothing.

It's barely a fight. Not this time around. Fushiguro is completely unmatched. There's a flash of purple. And then, it's over. 

Fushiguro is in shambles. You didn't realize he was human until he started to bleed and shatter. Parentage over labor. It's sobering, in a way. 

Satoru's mouth moves. You're too far away to hear anything. They stand there for a few more seconds until Fushiguro slumps. Then, he falls.

You wonder when you got so desensitized to death. 

Gojo stands there. You should let him compress, but the clock is ticking. You need to do one more thing before you can let Suguru go. 

"You need to go." You say when you're close to him. He doesn't acknowledge you. "Riko's about to enter Tengen's barrier." 

He looks at you right then. His eyes. They're so bright, but they're strangely lifeless. Like he can't process you, your words. 

"I can see you now," he says, "it was so foggy before, but now, you're crystal clear." 

Six eyes look at you. You don't think you're hiding behind Suguru's face anymore. 

You clear your throat. 

"Gojo." You remind him. "Riko. You need to stop her." 

He blinks back into focus, rising from his high. 

"Oh," he says after a moment, "right." 

You stop him before he can walk any further. You hold out your hand. 

"You and Suguru." 

For the first time in a while, Gojo hesitates to send you back. You wait a couple seconds longer. 

"Yeah," he finally says.

His skin still feels cold. 

ⴵ

This death is a lot more painful than the others. 

The curse that's holding you is more intelligent than its predecessors. It keeps you alive, tearing at your skin, feasting on your flesh. Blood is everywhere. You scream until it rips out your vocal cords. It's almost a mercy to just die. 

You forgive Suguru. 

ⴵ

Time skips a lot faster now. 

You stand in 2006, four months after the death of Fushiguro Toji. It takes a second for Geto's memories to kick in. What you see makes you nearly cry in relief. 

Gojo and Geto made it in time. You can still remember the tears spilling down Riko's cheeks, the smile on her face when Geto asked her if she wanted to go back. They were safe. They were home, with each other. 

You did it. You actually managed to pull it off. 

But you can't celebrate, not yet. From what you can gather from Suguru's memories, Geto defects after four years. You've just held off the eventual. 

It's nearly the middle of December. The air feels a bit chillier. You stay on that bench where Suguru once occupied. He was finishing his lunch. Usually, he'd eat with Satoru, but Satoru wasn't on campus these days. 

Right, you weren't finished with your work, yet. There was still one other issue. Suguru went on missions alone these days. Swallowing curses, letting them fester and rot in his body. It's isolating and grueling work. You might have been able to help him with the absorption, but your aide won't be enough to prevent his eventual downfall. 

You'll have to deal with his natural isolation. To do that, Suguru will have to make friends with people who aren't Satoru. 

Suguru does have friends, but he's the closest to Satoru. Considering Satoru is getting busier each passing day, Suguru needs to broaden his horizons a bit. 

It's a good thing this school is filled with such colorful characters. 

Haibara and Nanami were sitting in the back of the school. From Geto's memories, their dynamic was interesting. Haibara was definitely more outgoing than the two, but Nanami seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. They looked out for each other, in that way. 

Ah, Shoko was there, too. You haven't seen her since your first day. Her hair's grown longer. It lightly brushes her shoulders now. The cigarette in her hand burns a cherry red. 

Your reaction is rooted in Suguru's instinct than anything on your part. You reach out, taking the cigarette and stomping on the embers. 

"You shouldn't smoke in front of kids." You tell her, hoping she didn't read too much into your action.

Shoko scoffs, but to your satisfaction, she doesn't take out another one. 

"We're just one year below you." Nanami retaliates, but he looks more at ease now that the cigarette's out. 

"Did you finish lunch already, Geto?" Haibara asks kindly, then he takes a closer look. "Greeny?" 

You suck air through your teeth, giving Haibara a scathing look. Instead of looking exasperated, Nanami looks confused. 

"What's Greeny?" Nanami asks, and Haibara weakly laughs. 

"It's-uh-my new nickname for the tree that's growing over there!" He wildly points to something just behind you. "'Cuz it's so...green!"

"Of course." You note the hint of affection laced within his tone. 

"When'd you get back?" Haibara recovers with eagerness. 

"Recently." You grin. "Nice to see you again." 

"You saw him this morning," Nanami interjects, and you shrug. When he frowns, you know you pulled off a perfect Suguru impression. 

Suguru melds into the conversation perfectly. Haibara says something funny, Shoko and Suguru agree, Nanami disagrees. It's a lovely little cycle that ends when Nanami grumbles and picks himself up to go. Shoko starts to follow suit when you stop her. 

"Your hair's nice." You tell her. 

She hums, grabbing a strand to study it. You can see hints of dark circles beginning to form under her eyes. She looked livelier when you first met her. Curses have been popping up left and right since Fushiguro's death. Everyone is overworked, but Shoko looks like she's getting the brunt of it. She's one of the only people who can use RCT on others, and there aren't many healers on her level. All of the strongests share one thing in common it seems. 

"Pretty soon, it'll be longer than yours," Shoko replies. You smile in response. 

"Where are you going?" You ask. 

"Dorm," she replies, "I'm behind on paperwork." 

You had a feeling she always was. You gave a look of sympathy, but misery loves company. 

"I have some work too," You 'remember' the piles of papers lodged on Suguru's desk, "Maybe we can do it together later. The cafe right next to campus? It'll be my treat." 

She looks at Suguru. Her eyes are a pretty color. 

"Sure." She shrugs. "see you then." 

You feel your heart thump twice in your chest and decide that your work here is done. 

Haibara stares at Shoko's disappearing back. The forehead flick comes from both you and Suguru. 

"That hurt." Haibara whines. 

Good, you inwardly think. 

"Sorry." You tell him. He rubs his head, and you wonder if this is how kicking a puppy feels like. 

Luckily for you, Haibara recovers quickly. 

"You've been gone for a while." Haibara tilts his head. "What happened?" 

You can't exactly control your technique, it's more like it has a mind of its own, placing you exactly where you need to be placed. Instead of answering, you sigh, leaning against the wall. 

"Timeline gimmicks." You tell him tiredly. "It's hard to explain." He frowns, but he takes it as an answer.

"Do you know when Gojo's coming back?" You ask. "I think it's time for me to go back again." 

In previous time travels, you and Haibara tried to see if any physical contact would be enough to send you back. No matter how many times you two high-fived, shook hands, or even held hands. Nothing worked. Only Gojo Satoru could activate your technique. It must have something to do with the amount of cursed energy another person has. 

“He should be getting back later this evening.” Haibara muses. “But I’ll be happy to keep you company!”

It's nice to hear him chatter. If you'd let him, he'd go one and one. But you like hearing him talk about his sister. Apparently, she’s also a sorcerer, and his affection for her makes you smile.

"You remind me a lot of her, actually." He tells you. "Even though, y'know, you're a man." It's enough to get a laugh out of you. 

“Do you have anyone in your family who can see curses?” Haibaracasks.

“No,” you answer honestly, “at least, not that I can tell. My dad never spoke of curses or strange powers when I was growing up.”

You think he would have said something; after all, you two were too close to have secrets from each other. Your father was a single man, who took to raising you himself after your mother passed away. He often said you had her laugh.

“Maybe you’re one of a kind,” Haibara suggests.

You agree with him.

Gojo finds you before you can find him. He comes up to you with a grin and a wave.

“Hey, long time.”

His sunglasses are tilted down. You can see his eyes. They’ve lost the mania he had in his fight with Fushiguro. You’re relieved at that. You still can’t shake off that strange thing he said to you.

Wordlessly, you raise your hand. Satoru frowned.

“You wanna leave so soon? You just got here.”

“I’ve been here for hours,” you tell him, “also, you aren’t very concerned that someone is using your best friend’s body as a puppet.”

“He’s been through worse,” Satoru tells you off with a wave. Some friend.

“Let’s go to the arcade,” he suggests.

“Do that with Suguru.” You tell him. “I’m not hanging out with a high schooler.”

“Right right, my bad. I keep forgetting you’re an old man, Greeny.”

“22 is not old,” you say with exasperation, “didn’t your birthday just pass? You’re just five years away. I’ll see your attitude change, then.”

He grows quiet. You feel like you messed up somewhere.

“How did you know about my birthday?”

Fuck, you keep forgetting about keeping Suguru’s memories a secret. It takes everything within you to just relax.

“Haibara told me,” you say, “blabbermouth. You know him.”

“Oh.” Gojo replies. “Huh.”

You shuffle your feet. Distantly, you wonder what shoe size Suguru wears.

“How did your mission go?”

“Horrible,” he’s instantly back to his usual self, whiny and complaint, “and the curse was so ugly too. It was oozing goo everywhere.”

You frown. “Sounds gross. But you won, right?”

He doesn’t even answer. You secretly admire his sheer confidence. You certainly weren’t that when you were at his age.

“How’s Amanai and Miss Kuroi?” You ask.

“Safe.” He tells you. “The higher-ups weren’t really happy with us after that; pretty sure all these sudden missions are punishments.” He frowns. “But they’re fine. Miss Kuroi officially adopted her, so she’s a Kuroi now, too.”

You smiled. You already knew all that, but it’s nice to hear it.

“You saved them,” he says.

You laugh, “I didn’t do a thing.” You tell him. “You and Suguru did all the heavy lifting. I just caused some property damage.”

“You did.” He replies. “I don’t know how, but things always manage to work out whenever you’re around.”

You don’t like how he phrases that, but you don’t react.

“You think so? Maybe I’m lucky.” It’s supposed to be a joke of some kind. Neither of you laugh.

“You really don’t know us in the future?” He asks.

Maybe you should’ve asked Shoko if you could have a cigarette.

“I really didn't,” you say, “Honest, I—I have no idea what’s happening. I’m just as lost as you. Hopefully, I can figure out how to control my technique, and you won’t have to see me again.”

You never stopped feeling guilty for doing this to Suguru. Controlling him. Forcing him to laugh with his friends, make decisions based on your feelings rather than his. But you’re so close. You promise yourself that once you fix everything, you’ll never cause someone this much pain again. No matter how many times they kill you.

Satoru’s fists tighten. He looks even more upset at your response.

“That’s not what I—” He cuts himself off. You wait. Satoru says nothing more.

“You’re annoying.” He tells you in the end. It’s clean and cut, but it sounds like him. More confident, less wavery. “And stupid too.”

You can’t help but smile.

“Thank you. Am I done entertaining you now? Can I go?” He grumbles, holding up his hand.

“Yeah, sure, Greeny.”

ⴵ

You forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

Something’s wrong.

You can feel it. Something’s wrong.

You look through Geto’s memories. There’s nothing. Everything’s going as it should be. Everything looks perfect. Then, why do you feel so wrong?

Currently, Suguru was finishing excorcising a curse. You absorb it, swallowing down the remnant like it’s a pile of rusted nails but even the disgusting taste isn’t enough to wash away the feeling of dread.

The walls of the hospital was empty. The auxillary managers had already cleared everyone out by the time Suguru had walked in. Maybe it was the silence that added to your stress?

You walk out. Nothing changes. One of the managers comes up to you with a clipboard.

“The curse was exorcised.” Suguru tells them. “It wasn’t first grade, it was special grade. It was still disposed of.”

He curses, scribbling something down on his clipboard.

“The wrong information again.” He hisses to himself. “If we keep doing this, someone will die. We need more people, we’re way too stretched out.”

Those words are familiar. Hold on.

“Wait, what day is it?” You ask the frazzled-looking manager.

Offhandedly, he responds. He says the date so casually, and yet his mere words feel like a bear trap, tightening on your leg.

No. You should have had more time. Why weren’t you given more time?

Nanami and Haibara have probably already been dispatched. You go through Suguru’s phone, finding Haibara’s contact. It doesn’t go through. Nanami doesn’t pick up either.

You won’t make it in time. Even using Suguru’s curses, you won’t be able to reach them until it’s too late. Suguru’s memory of that day is muddled and dark, but Haibara’s dead corpse laying on the examination table. The pieces of him that Nanami could bring back.

You wouldn’t be fast enough.

He picks up on the second ring.

“...What’s up?”

“It’s Haibara.” You spit the words out as fast as you can. “Satoru, you need to go and get him right now, he isn’t going to make it—”

“—Greeny?” The exhaustion in Gojo’s voice is gone. You can hear something rustle behind him.

“Satoru, listen to me.” You beg. “Haibara and Nanami were just dispatched on a mission, but Yu isn’t going to survive it. It wasn’t a second-grade curse; it was a first grade. Please, you have to go and save him before it kills him.”

It’s silent. It feels like hours have passed when you know it’s just three seconds.

“We’ll talk later, Greeny.” The line clicks.

You’ve lost the trust of the strongest.

ⴵ

The future has changed when you get to campus. Haibara’s status is still alive. Barely. But he’s still there. Shoko’s currently taking care of him.

Nanami remains quiet the entire time since he returned with Haibara’s battered body. The only thing you can think of to offer comfort is to pat his shoulder. He barely even registers it. It’s more for you than for him. You’re self-soothing, taking care of something else, so you don’t have to recognize your own panic.

If Haibara dies, right here, on this day, everything can change. Everything can go back to the way it was in your original timeline. Haibara, with his sunshine, smiles, and bright eyes. His death is so important, and you can’t even think of him right now.

Gojo Satoru knows you’ve been deceiving him.

This is bad. So very bad. If he starts to suspect that you know more than you let on, he might deem you enough of a threat to kill, regardless of whether or not you’re in Suguru’s body. It’s not like that hasn’t stopped him before.

Gojo Satoru is selfless. He’s selfless enough to kill his best friend, if he thinks it will save everyone.

But if Gojo kills Geto here and now, would that really be bad?

You’d lose your path to the past, but the threat to your life would be over. Even if you did die in Suguru’s body, at least the people of Tokyo will be spared the Death Parade. You’ll still get what you want. And it will be much easier than your current plan.

Nanami shuffles behind you and you instantly snap out of it. That wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been you. That same lack of apathy when Fushiguro died in front of you.

It seems like dying over and over again caused you to lose bits of your humanity.

Shoko comes out. Nanami stands up, a tall ball of nervous energy. Shoko removes her mask. Her dark circles have grown even more prominent. She’s only 17.

“He’s still alive.” Nanami sags. “But he isn’t responsive. I’ve done all that I can.”

She looks at Nanami, and then she can’t anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Nanami rasps, the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him, “don’t apologize. It was my fault. I should’ve taken better care of him.”

You swallow. It wasn’t his fault, you wish you could tell him that it was yours.

You wonder what Haibara’s younger sister looked like. A spitting image of him, perhaps. Shorter. Darker hair, bigger eyes. Their smiles would look identical. What would she look like when she’s told her brother died doing the profession he forbade her from doing?

You can’t do that to her. You can’t be the reason she loses her brother the second time.

You’re not sure if a God is even out there. How could there be? What kind of entity would do something like this to you? Still, you sit on that bench, right outside the room where Haibara’s body lay, and you pray for a God.

Gojo’s footsteps stop right in front of you.

It’s hard to get the words out. For a minute, he just stands there.

“Did you exorcise it?” You finally ask.

“Yeah.”

You lift your head up to look at him. Even in his school uniform, he’s regal to look at. Like a warrior of the sun, blessed by the moon, sent to vanquish beasts and monsters.

Now, his blood-soaked sword is pointed at you.

Make it quick. You can only think. Just make it quick.

“Not here.” You say.

Nanami was still shaking. Shoko was right beside him. So you stand, you drag yourself away from Haibara’s fading presence, and Gojo follows behind.

It shouldn’t be this pretty outside. The sun is bright, and the sky is clear. There should be rain. Enough rain to drown the Earth.

“I figured out your technique a while ago, y’know.” You don’t look at him. You can’t. “Dying. Death activates your technique. Each time you die, you’re sent back 12 years in the past.”

You grip the fabric of your uniform until your knuckles turn white. Satoru’s cruel enough to continue.

“But I never got why your soul kept possessing Suguru’s body. It always felt kinda’ random. Unless he was the one who was killing you. Over and over again.”

“Gojo. Stop.” You beg.

“That’s how your CT works. Every time you’re murdered, you go back in time so you can kill them when they’re at their most emotionally vulnerable moment. It’s a pretty powerful technique, all things considered. I might not even stand a chance against it. Assisted suicide, never expected that from you of all people.

But you never do. Each time Suguru kills you, you just come back and try to save him and everyone else your hands can reach. I can’t get why you did that.”

He steps in front of you so you can see him. The God that he is.

“Let’s cut the shit, Greeny. Tell me what future is so bad you’re willing to die over and over again to prevent it.”

The worst outcome you could have ever thought of was standing right in front of you.

Satoru was demanding to know his future.

And...you couldn’t.

You’re taking in a shaky breath. It’s not enough oxygen. The sky was close to crumbling, and you still couldn’t breathe.

“There’s nothing to know.” You try. “There’s nothing, I’m fixing it—”

“—by Suguru killing you, or is this considering killing yourself, now?”

“You don’t understand.” Your voice is cracking, so high-pitched that even Suguru’s vocal cords can’t keep up. “You don’t get it. You can’t.”

“Then help me understand.” His voice is as ragged as yours, he steps closer, you step back. “Tell me why my friend would do something like this to someone.”

It clicks right then. Satoru’s anger isn’t directed at you.

No, it’s directed at Suguru.

It’s even worse than you thought.

“He—he was better than me. He was supposed to be the best out of all of us. I wanna deny it all that I can but—but I can see the proof right here in front of me. And—And I don’t—” His voice breaks too much to continue. 

You’re breaking, too. How many times have you been doing this, over and over again? All alone, with no one to support you. To comfort you.

The words are right there, threatening to bubble out. It’d be so easy to tell Satoru everything.

And maybe you would’ve, but then you looked at him.

Despite how disingenuous Satoru acted, you knew he was kind. The kindest person you’ve ever met. He’d sit there and listen, and he’d break every bone in his body to help. That’s just how he was.

Satoru was selfless, he was selfless enough to kill his best friend here and now if it meant he’d save the millions in Tokyo.

You can’t put another burden on the strongest.

You can’t do that to a kid.

“It—it isn’t him.” You manage to spit out. “He isn’t doing it on purpose. It’s not his fault.

It’s the curses. They were too much for him; they overtook his body. Suguru couldn’t control them anymore.”

He says nothing. It’s like you’ve put a spell on Gojo somehow, freezing him in place. Satoru can’t do anything but stare at the talking puppet that’s his best friend.

“He lost so many people.” You continue. “Riko, Miss Kuroi, Haibara. He couldn’t take it. It was too much. His body succumbed to the curses, and they took over Shinjuku. That’s how I keep...”

It’s okay to lie like this, you justify to yourself. Because the Suguru, you know—the one with fake smiles, beady eyes, and a broken expression—isn’t the one that Satoru knows. They’re two completely different people. Years—timelines—apart from each other. They aren’t the same.

Even then, you forgave both Sugurus a lifetime ago.

You’d get on your knees if you know that would make a difference. You’d plead and beg and cry if it would get Satoru to drop it. In the end, you can only stare at him.

“All I’m asking is that you trust me.” You whisper. “Believe that I’m making this right. Please, Satoru?”

His eyes. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s gone quiet and dull. The same look he had when he fully awakened his technique. The day he became God.

But he’s not a God. God’s don’t cry.

He leans ever so closely until his head rests on your shoulder. His body shakes.

“You’ll save him, right?” He asks. Gone, is his aura of confidence and resilience. He’s nothing more than a shell. If you feel something stain Suguru’s uniform, you say nothing about it.

You smile anyway.

“I will.” You tell the truth. “I will save him.”

You think of something morbidly funny.

“I’ll die trying.”

His shoulders shake with quiet, genuine laughter, the kind that’s wet and sticks to the top of your mouth.

“That’s fucked up, Greeny.” He whispers.

You hum, reaching up to pat him on the back. It takes another minute before he gathers himself up. His eyes are shiny. Satoru blinks it away.

“Haibara will be okay.” He says with such conviction. “I’ll take care of him. I’ll take care of Suguru, too.”

He doesn’t get it, not yet. He doesn’t understand that Shoko and Satoru and Haibara and Nanami need him. He’ll get it soon, though. You managed to put Suguru on the right path.

For now, it’s all you can do. 

“I know you will.” 

He scoffs, right then. 

“You’re really annoying, you know that? Next time, don’t piss me off like that. Just tell it to me straight.” 

Rely on me. Lean on me.

“I’m sorry,” you say and you truly are, “I won’t leave you in the dark from now on. I guess I just forgot that I had a friend in 2006.” 

His eyes get a little brighter. “It’s actually 2007—” 

“Shut up.” He laughs and it sounds like him again. 

You reach out your hand and his grin fades, the tiniest bit. He mirrors you, regardless. 

This time, you hesitate.

“You should learn how to be selfish every once in a while.” You tell him. “I won’t fault you if you’re selfish. I don’t think anyone will.

He doesn’t answer that, but his touch is finally warm.

ⴵ

It hurts. It hurts so much. Blood seeps into the pavement. You can hear the curse laughing. It sounds like him.

You forgive Suguru. 

ⴵ

It’s today. 

You can feel it. You don’t even have to look at the date to know.

The catalyst for December 24th, 2017.

Suguru’s already dressed. You’re currently standing in front of a shotty mirror, watching your reflection.

He looks tired. His smile’s a bit muted. You notice a scar you hadn’t seen before. An unregistered special grade curse, Suguru’s memory gives.

He’s different from when you saw him a year ago, but there’s still a spark in his eye. You cling to that hope, as hard as you can.

You step out of the room. It isn’t Suguru’s. He’d rented accommodations with an older woman and her son for the mission. Their place smelled like home. It made your stomach turn.

She smiles when she sees you coming down stairs. She looks kind; she has the eyes of a mother. You’ll never understand how a person who raised children could do something like this to another.

“Mr. Geto.” She chirps. “I’m so glad you’re awake! Would you like anything to eat?”

“No, I’m fine.” Better get this done sooner than later. “I should be heading back now, anyways.”

Suguru had already absorbed the curse tormenting the village last night. You can feel the sticky aftertaste in your mouth. He should have left the village yesterday, but the people were insistent he stayed one last day as thanks, feeding him all they could.

Now, it’s obvious that it was a way to butter him up for today.

Her smile grows a bit nervous. She shuffles her feet a bit.

“If it isn't too much.” She starts. “The head of our village asked if you could look at something.” Her eyes darken into disgust.

You fight to keep your smile.

“Of course. Please, lead the way.”

It’s worse than you ever could have imagined.

You’ve seen this play out so many times in Suguru’s memories. He reminisces about this moment a lot. Because of that, you knew this scene too, like the back of your hand.

And yet, seeing two children huddled together on the floor. Nothing could prepare you for that.

The village head is saying something. The woman who Suguru roomed with is yelling at the scared kids, but you can’t hear any of that.

Their clothes were dirty and ripped. Their cheeks were hollow, and they looked like they hadn’t eaten for days. Himiko’s eye looks swollen.

The twins.

The first time you saw them, they stepped aside and let Geto kill you. There’s something oddly poetic about you being on the other side.

They tremble as they continue to look at you, flinch whenever that woman raises her voice. They must think Suguru’s here to kill them.

They’re too young to think like that. They’re too young to see the horrors of this world so soon.

It’s a mistake to look towards the end of their cell. Dirty water and dog food.

How could a human do this to them? How could a mother do this to them?

You feel red. It coarses through your blood, your veins, your soul. It feels like there’s lava right underneath your skin. Shuddering, tittering anger.

There’s more than enough fire to burn down an entire village.

‘Suguru,’ you think to your companion, your tormentor, ‘I think I’m starting to get it now.’

You reach for the bars of the cell. The twins shrink away.

“Ah! Mr. Geto, you musn’t get too close to them—”

“I’ll take them.”

“What?” The head of the village asks.

“The children.” You straighten yourself up. “I’ll take them off your hands.”

It’s pointless to do anything to these people. They’re delusional enough to think that they’re in the right. By torturing these children, they’re protecting their own. It’s fear. That’s all it ever was. Even without a curse, it’ll fester on and on until this village is nothing but abandoned homes. There’s no point to punish these people any further.

If you look at the adults a bit too long, you’re afraid of what you’d do, even without Suguru’s interference. Instead, you focus on Himiko and Nanako, looking into their wary gazes. Their hands are so tiny. You could protect them with your own.

When you got out of this backward village, you’d find them something to eat.

ⴵ

You go to Shoko first.

She looks surprised to see the twins. You can’t imagine why. Still, her voice is calm when she speaks to them, setting both of them up in the clinic room. Since you got them into the car, Nanako and Himiko seemed to calm down. Himiko even told you the name of her doll.

A little while later, Yaga comes for a visit. He’s the principal now. Usually, his voice is filled with gruff, but he’s oddly gentle when he speaks to them. Nanako cracks a shy smile.

You can’t escape the ‘we’ll talk later’ look he gives you. Inwardly, you sympathize with Suguru. But a harsh lecture is better than being branded a murderer.

He hasn’t come by, yet. With the twins aided for, you decide to go find him yourself.

Walking through campus feels a little nostalgic. The grounds of the infamous jujutsu technical college are a bright green. It’s summer again. You’ve met so many colorful characters since your time here. You’ve only seen snippets, mere seconds of their lives, and yet it feels like an entire lifetime.

He’s sitting on a bench when you finally see him, nursing a drink. He doesn’t acknowledge you. You have to roll your eyes at his childish behavior, plopping down beside him.

“Hey.” You say first.

“Heard you adopted two kids,” Satoru says, “Never thought Suguru would be a teen mom, but here we are.”

You laugh, light and breathless. The sky is so pretty today.

“I don’t think he’d have it any other way, personally.” You respond.

He reminisces on your words.

“This happened before too?” He asked.

It did. It was a lot less of a happy ending, however.

“Yeah,” you say regardless, “he took good care of them last time. He’ll do the same in this timeline too. I’m sure of it.”

And this time, he’d have help. Shoko, Satoru, his teachers. They’d all be there for him. Suguru’s memories haven’t changed yet, but you know the future you step into will be a different one.

“In any case, I’m glad I got to see jujutsu tech one last time. It’s a beautiful campus.”

“You act like you’re leaving,” Satoru says, uncaring. “You’ll just come back again next month. Or next year.”

You play with your fingers.

“I...won’t be doing that from now on.”

He pauses. Then, he looks at you.

“What?”

You can’t gauge his reaction, but he doesn’t look happy. You find this a bit hard to swallow.

“I fixed the future.” You smile at him. “I finally did it. Suguru won’t break. Himiko and Nanako won’t lose their father. You won’t lose a friend, anymore. There’s no reason for me to keep coming back. You’re all free.”

You phrased the last part as a joke, but Satoru isn’t laughing.

“Wait, you’re leaving? You’re...leaving leaving.”

You nod. “I can’t believe it either.” You still can’t believe you accomplished everything you set out to do. A task that seemed so impossible, now you’re standing on the other side of it.

It wasn’t truly over. Not really, but you were able to get Suguru through the worst of it. Now, you were sure Satoru and Shoko would take up your mantel, pushing Suguru through the finish line. Just like he’ll do to them.

Satoru’s quiet.

“You seem happy.” He notes.

“Well, I did just save everyone, I think I deserve to feel a little good about myself.”

For a moment, you want to ask if it’ll be okay to visit everyone in the future. To see how Shoko and Suguru and Satoru are doing as adults. You stop yourself. Of course, they wouldn’t want to see you. You needed to stop being so greedy.

This, was more than enough.

“Will you at least tell me your name?” Satoru asks.

“You know I can’t do that.” You tell him with a smile.

“Right right.” He laughs, it sounds hollow. “Time travel, bullshit. Makes sense.”

“I’ll miss you.” You tell him.

He straightens himself up.

“I’ll miss you too, old man.” He responds. “You were a lotta’ fun to mess with.”

For once, you aren’t offended by the old man’, comment. If anything, it feels somber.

“Can I ask for some advice?” He suddenly asks. “Y’know what they say, ask the old and wise or whatever.” Okay, now he was starting to push it.

“What is it?”

It’s his turn to shuffle with his fingers.

“What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it?”

You glance at him. He looks earnest. Did something like that even exist for Satoru?

“Something I can’t catch up to?” You ponder out loud. “I guess I’d have to make a big enough ruckus to where it has no choice but to look back.”

He frowns. “That makes no sense. You’re growing senile.”

You laugh. You’ll miss this brat.

You wish you could stay more. You wish you could ask about Haibara, and Shoko, and Nanami, but the clock is ticking.

Suguru’s getting impatient.

“Bye, Satoru.” You reach out your hand.

He scrutinizes it, before clasping it within his own.

“Yeah, Greeny.”

Within a blink, you’re back again in the middle of Shinjuku. December 24th, 7:06 pm.

It’s the same as always. People bustle around you. Children’s laughter. Everything always repeats itself, but you don’t think you can ever get sick of it. You’ll savor this peace for as long as you can.

You reach into your pocket, flicking out a lighter and the first cigarette of the box. You don’t know why you always chose this one. Despite outmaneuvering time itself, perhaps it’s within human nature to follow what’s written stone.

You’ve relived this hour so many times that you can list everything that happens. Down to the exact minute. 7:08- a little girl wearing a red dress walks by. 7:09- a lady with short hair catches your eyes and smiles. 7:14-an old man and woman bicker with each other as they pass you by. 7:21- A little dog sniffs the bench you sit on. 7:34- Two schoolchildren run past you, babbling. 7:45- five construction workers grumble out their grievances. 7:58- a businessman talks loudly on the phone.

You wait. You sit on a bench and wait until 8:06.

Five seconds after 8:06. Twenty seconds after 8:06.

The clock clicks to 8:07.

You were expecting to feel something else. Celebration. Elation. You half-expected to cause a scene and jump for joy right there in the streets of Shinjuku.

None of that comes. There’s just a feeling of relief. A weight presses you down, and you slump in your seat.

It was over.

It was finally over.

How long do you stay like that? Hours? Days? When you feel like you can finally breathe again, it’s only 8:12. Time travel warped your sense of time.

You stand up, stretch, feel your bones crack and pop. In the second timeline, you wanted to get a drink to drown your misery of nearly getting killed by a curse and being alone on December 24th. It felt like a lifetime ago when being single was the worst of your problems.

Honestly, you’d stay celibate for the rest of your life if it meant you wouldn’t have to go through that ever again.

Tomorrow, you’ll decompress and devolve into hysteria over what happened.

Next week, you’ll check yourself into therapy.

Today, you decide to go home and sleep for a couple hundred years.

You must look like a zombie with the way you wobble down the street. Physically, your body is perfectly fine. You’ve suffered no bruises or cuts. Even the numerous times you’ve been killed leaves nothing on your skin.

Mentally, you’re in shambles. The indomitable human spirit within you is snuffed out.

The stairs to your flat is your last enemy that you must vanquish before you can reunite with your adoring bed. You cling onto the railing with dazed eyes. You don’t see the curse until you’re right before it.

Distantly, you wonder how often you’ve passed a curse and didn’t even realize it. It’s almost instinct to reach out with your hand, intent on absorbing it.

Nothing happens. You remember you aren’t Suguru anymore.

It’s a grotesque-looking thing. No eyes, too many hands, a gaping mouth. It turns and looks at you.

Strange. Its’ smile mirrors the one in the abandoned house.

Adrenaline. You feel it coarse through your veins, meld into your bones, explode in your skin. You’re stumbling back, nearly tripping down the steps in your haste to get away.

It screeches. Loud and clear and angry and you can almost feel its teeth chomp on your leg, ripping your muscles and skin to mere tatters.

You’ve died before. You’ve been skinned alive before. You’ve been eaten before. Yet, it all amounts to nothing compared to the fear you feel at the thought of the curse catching you.

It can’t have been nothing more than a third grade. If you were taller, larger, special-grade, you could have killed it immediately. But you weren’t, not anymore, you were at the same level as a plant. Useless. Helpless.

A dead man stumbling, tripping, running.

The streets were quiet. You supposed that meant there’d be fewer casualties. But it didn’t make you feel any better. And even if there were people around, no one would have been able to help you.

Your brain isn’t working as clearly. Fear is the only thing that guides you. You’re reduced to a rat scampering through a maze. Sooner or later, that rodent reaches a dead end.

The alleyway was blocked off. You felt the rough brick wall scrape your hands and even the feeling of your raw skin couldn’t assuage your heart pumping in your throat. When you whirled your head back, it was right there, and you knew you were dead.

Again.

It might kill you, if it’s feeling generous. It might cut your legs off and watch you bleed, if its feeling kind. It might eat you, if it’s a decent curse.

It shouldn’t be happening. You fixed it. You were supposed to have fixed everything. But clearly you didn't. There must have been some piece of the puzzle that you forgot. You need to go back. You need to fix things, but why do you need to why can't he just leave you alone—

You don’t see what happens. One moment, the curse is there. The next it isn’t.

“Those things are so annoying.” The newcomer complains.

No, not new. You know him.

You blink. He grins. It’s kind. A toothy smile that warms.

“You alright?” He asks in sympathy. “Curses are pretty scary, aren’t they? Are you hurt?”

It’s him. You weren’t in 2006. You were in the present, here and now, and he was here with you.

He actually made it.

“Ma’am?” He asks.

It wasn’t intentional. You just blurted it out, the promise you made to him. It was a decade for him. Mere hours for you.

“Um, broccoli head...?” And then you instantly regret it.

Haibara Yu takes a minute, eyes squinting like you just grew a new head.

Then, he gasps.

“Greeny?”

ⴵ

A few minutes later, you’re seated at a restaurant. Haibara has not shut up.

“—I—I can’t believe it? It’s actually you! I thought I’d never see you again ‘cuz Gojo said you weren’t gonna be around anymore, and—and then suddenly you pop up outta’ nowhere—not that I’m complaining— but—”

“—Haibara.” You interrupt. “Please, slow down.”

He stops himself, right when the server comes with drinks. He shoots the waiter a smile, and then he’s back on you.

“Sorry.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I—I got a little excited. And nervous. It’s just...well, I didn’t expect you to be a girl.”

That might have been your fault. Both Haibara and Gojo kept referring to you as a man, so you decided to roll with it. Earlier, you would have justified it by insisting the less they know about you, the better. Now, you just think you were being petty.

“So, how you’ve been? A whole decade...” You murmur to yourself.

“Fine! But what about you?” Haibara asks, concern etched into his eyes. “Where’d you go?”

Wow, he was actually worried for you. Despite being in Suguru’s body, you didn’t really feel like part of the group Shoko, Gojo, Nanami, and Haibara were part of. You felt like an outsider, being somewhere you didn’t belong. It's because you were an outsider. Nevertheless, it’s nice to know one person missed you.

“This might be a little hard to believe, but I just came back to 2017 two hours ago.”

Haibara gapes.

“Wait, so to you, that whole thing happened, today?” You nod. He leans back in his chair.

“Holy fuck.” You laugh at his awe.

“Thanks for saving me, by the way.” You change the topic. “From the curse.”

He waves it off. “I was just paying my debt. From what you did for me all those years ago.”

Ah, Gojo must have told him. Oddly enough, Haibara doesn't seem all that perturbed that he shouldn’t exist currently. At the same time, it feels just like Haibara.

He’s different from when he was younger. Taller. The baby fat is gone. His face is more built, just like the rest of his body. His eyes are less round, but they haven’t lost the spark. A few scars here and there, but he’s all in one piece.

You weren’t able to see what he looked like as an adult from Suguru’s memories, he’d never grown up. But now, you can see it for yourself. You can see the active change you made in his life, to his life.

“Haibara—”

“Yu—” He says seriously. “My friends call me Yu.”

A smile twitches on your lips.

“Tell me about everyone.” You scoot your chair closer. “You, Suguru. How is everyone doing?”

He perks up at that, clearly delighted to be talking.

“Great! Everyone’s doing great! You should totally come visit the school, sometime. They’d love to see you. Uh, even if they don’t technically know you, but I’m sure they’ll love to meet you!” He rambles, and it’s nice to know he hasn’t changed from his younger self.

“Let’s see, Kento’s teaching the first years. I teach the second years—”

“—You’re a teacher?”

He nods. “We all are! Except for Shoko, but she has her own thing going on. Anyway, Mimiko and Nanako have become second-grade semi-sorcerors. Isn’t that incredible? I’m just a first grade semi-sorceror, and at their young ages too! But Suguru wasn’t surprised, he kept saying his girls were prodigies. Oh! You probably want to know about Suguru too, right?”

You nod. Even if you hadn’t done anything, you don’t think that would have stopped his enthusiasm.

“He’s a teacher too! At least, for right now. Yaga’s been wanting to retire, and there have been talks of Suguru becoming the next principal. Principal Geto has a ring to it, right? Oh, and Shoko is currently planning the wedding. You’ll definitely be invited, of course! She said I could bring a plus-one. Oh, and—”

It goes on like that for hours, you think. Not that you mind. You listen to Yu babble on and on about his friends, his students. He talks about Nanami’s recent baking addiction, Shoko’s new office cat, Suguru’s favorite tea pot. It’s a never-ending surge of information.

Eventually, you catch on to the fact that he’s deliberately leaving someone out.

"Yu?" You interrupt him while he's talking about the prank the fourth year pulled on Nanami. "What about Satoru? What's he up to?" 

Maybe you were overthinking things. Haibara likes to talk; perhaps he forgot to exclude someone else's story in his rants. But then, he grimaces. For the first time in this entire conversation, Haibara is reluctant to talk. 

"Satoru is..." He winces, and your hands turn into fists. 

No. No. You were supposed to save everyone. Why hadn't you saved everyone? 

A warm hand grips your own. You'd been shaking. 

Yu gives a soft smile, and you remember he's no longer younger than you. 

"He's not dead." He assures you, but his smile fades. He straightens himself up, and his hand pulls away. 

"Satoru defected from Jujutsu tech. We don't know where he is." 

What? You must have misheard him wrong. Satoru wouldn't do that. That's not like him. This is some sick joke.

But there's no teasing grin on Haibara. His face is grave. You hate it more than anything. 

"It happened when he was a fourth year. No one really knows what happened. Suguru refuses to say anything about it, but I think he's just as confused as the rest of us. It came outta nowhere." 

Yeah, it definitely came out of nowhere. It's so random. Why would Satoru do that? The last time you saw him, he was so happy. He was smiling; he teased you. What happened? It made no sense. 

"So, you haven't seen him for nine years?" You ask. "Not even a glimpse?" 

Yu shakes his head. "Nothing but his residuals. That's how we know he's still alive." 

Nothing computes in your brain. None of it made any sense. You saved Suguru. That was supposed to make everyone happy, including Satoru. Why would he turn around and do this? Defecting made no sense.

"We've actually been tasked to execute him. Since he’s been branded a curse user, all four of us. " Yu laughs with no humor. "Isn't that insane? I don't think any one of us could even fathom doing that, even if it were possible." 

It wasn't possible. Gojo was the strongest. Nothing could go toe to toe with him. Once he put his mind to something, no one could stop him.

But maybe you could. 

You're shutting that idea down immediately. You were done. You were done with dying and time-travel and strange powers. You wanted it all to be over. It'd be so easy to thank Haibara for the nice meal, to go home and sleep this entire day off. Satoru dug his own grave, he can go lay in it. You weren't responsible for someone else's actions. You wouldn’t. You can’t do that another time.

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?

You hate that brat so much. 

You close your eyes. Take in a breath. Then, you open them. 

"Haibara?" You ask. "Did Gojo tell you how my technique worked?" 

He shakes his head. You grimace because convincing him might take a while.

"Okay, well, I'll need you to do a tiny favor for me."

ⴵ

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Oh, you're back already?" Satoru says casually, turning back to gaze at you. "I just left today. How did you convince Haibara to snap your neck? That guy cries after killing a mosquito.”

You’d caught him just as he was leaving campus. Yu’s body was less athletic than Suguru’s. Your breath was slightly ragged, pulled down by minor exhaustion.

It doesn’t weigh down your frustration for Gojo Satoru. The biggest pain in your ass you’ve ever met.

“Shut up.” You snap. “Just answer the question.”

“We haven’t seen each other for a year and that’s how you react?” Satoru ignores you. “That’s mean, Greeny. How ‘bout we discuss my treason over steak. Haibara can pay.”

“Satoru.” You beg, “Why are you doing this? What’s the point? Why is everyone happy with their life except for you?”

That seems to get him. His posture stiffens ever so slightly. You can see him work his jaw. He finally drops his act.

“You didn’t have to come back, y’know.” He murmurs quietly. “You could’ve just stayed in the future. Like you said, Greeny, everyone’s happy with their life. 4 outta’ five. That’s a passing grade.”

For once, you wish you could possess him. You wished you could open his brain and peer into his memories until he finally made sense.

“I could never leave you behind like that.” You say the truth just as quietly. “I’ll die a thousand more deaths than do that.”

He smiles. It looks genuine as it looks painful.

“Yeah, I know. I know you, Greeny. Always gotta’ play hero.” He gives a bitter laugh. “That’s why I defected.”

You stare at him. He’s a fourth-year now, even taller than before. You aren’t equal to him anymore in this body, now you’re starting to think you never were.

“Satoru.” You start because what he’s saying can’t be the truth. Your heart broke and broke. “Did—did you leave—did you leave everyone for a decade just so I’d come back? Why would you do that to yourself?”

He doesn’t say anything. Then, he steps forward, just a bit.

“It’s your fault,” Satoru says like it’s instinct to blame you for his actions, “this was your idea.”

What’s he talking about? And then memories of the two of you sitting on that bench just outside of campus.

What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it? So that’s what he meant. You were an idiot.

“That’s not fair, Satoru,” you say regardless, “I—I never—I couldn’t expect you’d do this.”

“What choice did I fucking have, Greeny?” There’s rapid steps and he’s in front of you, desperate and wild. “You—you just left me here. You left me alone and I couldn’t even look for you because I know nothing about you. Your face, your eyes, your hair, not even your fucking name! How’s that fair?”

It’s true. It’s all true. As much as you tried to claim you tried to make everyone happy, you only focused on Suguru. And Suguru’s happiness enlisted space from the strongest. In a different timeline, things would be different between them. A button he never left behind. Words Satoru never said. That timeline held too much pain and suffering, so you scrubbed it from history. In this rendition, everything was changed. Suguru had Shoko. Yu had Kento. Who did Satoru have?

You saved Suguru in this timeline. But to save him, you neglected Satoru.

Satoru must have known. He must have known you intentionally distanced Suguru from him, but he allowed it anyway. Satoru’s selfless like that. Too giving. Too Godlike.

But he’s selfish too. Purposefully demeaning himself so he could get one more glimpse of you, uncaring if you went through hell for his sake. Too taking. Too human.

Once, you told him that if he was selfish, just once, you wouldn’t fault him. What a liar you are.

You forgive Satoru.

“I’m sorry.” Haibara’s voice is like your own. You step closer. His infinity lets you in. “I’m sorry Satoru. I didn’t mean to leave you alone.”

It’s hard to wrap him in a hug. The brat’s too big. He sinks into your touch like a tiger, filled with dangerous claws, retracted just for your sake. He shakes the tiniest bit; even now, he’s keeping himself as a pinnacle. If you hear a sniffle or two, you don’t comment on it.

It’s why your heart breaks to tell him the truth.

“I can’t give you my name.” You whisper in his ear. He pulls back. He doesn’t look at you.

“Yeah, I know. I know. time-travel bullshit—”

“For now.” You add. “I can’t do that for now.”

Three pairs of eyes look at you. You’re not hiding behind Haibara anymore. You’re not trying to.

“December 24th, 2017. 8:06. Tokyo Skytree.” You look at him. “Can you wait until then?”

For you, it’d only be an hour. For Satoru, it’d be a decade.

You expect him to reject it, to yell at you. You decide if he wants to be selfish; you’d let him.

“If you don’t show up, I’ll turn evil.” You laugh. His grin widens and he’s back again. “I’m serious. I’ll take over the world. I’ll throw the biggest temper tantrum ever.”

“You’re such a brat.” There’s no hostility in your tone. “I will. I promise.”

‘I’ll save you,’ You promise in your head because he’s too prideful to hear it.

“Is it still possible for you to go back?” You ask, the wariness present again. “The higher ups haven’t taken any action against you, right?”

He shakes his head.

“I think Yaga might yell at me, but other than that.” He shrugs. “They’ll decide it’s teen rebellion and sweep it under the rug.”

You laugh again. Satoru shoots you a toothy grin.

When you reach out a hand, Satoru mirrors you. He clasps your hand in his. For once, you wonder how they’ll feel on your own.

“See ya’ later, Greeny.”

A blink. Satoru’s gone. Your hand is empty, and you’re standing in the streets of Shinjuku once again.

ⴵ

December 24th, 2017. 8:06, at the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

Why did you decide on that date and time for all the places? You were so fucking stupid. You needed to stop being so poetic.

It’s already 7:12 when you’re desperately waving down a taxi. The driver looks disinterested when you blubber out the location. When he tells you it’ll cost extra because Sumida City isn’t part of his route, you’re more than happy to fork over the money.

It’s already 7:35 when you stumble through the interiors of Tokyo Skytree town. It’s crowded. Fuck, it’s December 24th, of course people would be out and about.

At 7:44, you finally reach the observational building. And then you hit upon a snag.

It’s closed.

Renovations, the sign reads, accompanied by an irritatingly cute drawing of a cat, please come visit us next week.

Would this excuse be enough to satisfy Satoru? You’re only human. Surely he’d understand if you couldn’t make it because the entire building was shut down.

Or wait. Was this Satoru’s doing?

You look up at the tower. Lights were still on and flickering. No crowds. No people. No prying eyes.

Let it be known that you’ve never trespassed before, until you met Gojo Satoru.

With a guilty conscious, you step over the line. You justify it by convincing yourself you were saving the world because you know Satoru wasn’t joking a decade ago.

The elevators still worked. Thank God. Yet another hint he’s paving the way for you. You made the location, but it feels like you’re a mouse stuck in a human-designed maze. Even though you set up the game, he’s still managed to rig it.

You land on the first deck at 7:52. At 7:56, you reach the second observational deck.

It’s empty. You’ve never seen the skytree so empty before. Not a single soul is here except for you. Your footsteps echo across the floor. Were you early?

Out the corner of your eye, there’s a post-it note stuck on the window. A hand-drawn arrow. Up ahead, there’s another one.

You follow the next, and then the next. All the time you don’t know how to feel about him doing all of this just for an encounter. Something bubbles in your stomach. You’re pushing it down.

You follow the post-its until there’s one placed right on top of a door.

Authorized personnel only. Why does this brat continue to test you?

But it’s already 8:03; you’re far too deep to complain.

A service elevator greets you. If you press the button, it’ll take you all the way up to the broadcast equipment, the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

It’s different from the past two elevator rides. The service elevator isn’t all that polished. The wheels squeak a little too dangerously at times. It’s slower, too.

That’s bad, because now you’re starting to think.

That familiar feeling boils within your stomach, again. You’re anxious. It’s strange to say, but meeting Satoru through Suguru, meeting Satoru through Yu, it felt like you had a protective shell around yourself. You were free from his judgement, only invoking curiosity.

If you show yourself to him, how would he react? What would he say? Would he get angry that you made him wait a decade for such a blunder? Even worse, what if he doesn’t get angry?

What if—what if he’s disappointed by you?

Cold feet. It freezes your toes. You want to go back. You want the elevator to go back down, you want to go home and hide away.

But you promised Satoru. He deserves answers.

Pathetic answers are better than no answers at all.

Instead of your soul being protected by a sorcerer's body, it’s protected by your own. You’d steel yourself for whatever comes next. You could melt after.

It’s windy up here. That’s the first thing you notice. Icy wind cuts at your face and your eyes squint so they don’t dry out so quickly. It’s colder, too; your jacket is nice protection, but nothing helps your vulnerable hands.

But the view. Oh, what a view.

The sea of twinkling lights shines from the city. The sun has set, leaving Tokyo to do nothing but shine. She’s gorgeous like she’s picked the stars from the sky, burying them within her own soul. You could stay there forever, if she let you.

It’s 8:09. Satoru was late.

Or maybe he just wasn’t planning to show up.

You lean away from the railing. It’s just like him to make huge gestures and at the last moment, ditch everything. The balloon in your lungs deflates ever so slightly.

And then, you can feel hands.

Around your shoulders, caging you in. Large and warm despite the icy air. You know these hands. They’re familiar, even a decade later. His chest presses up against your back. His face settles in the crook of your neck.

His laugh tickles your ear, and you aren’t so cold anymore.

“Caught ya, Greeny.”

(“Did something happen to you, back there in the house?”

"Hm?" Suguru asked.

They were wading through long grass and overgrown weeds. Satoru glances at his friend. Suguru looks fine. His cursed energy has gone back to normal. That's probably good.

"You were just acting weird," Satoru said, "I mean you fell on your ass in front of a curse. Embarrassing."

Suguru huffed, a red hue across his cheeks. "Shut up, don't remind me."

'So he remembered,' Satoru thinks, 'didn't expect that.'

They're almost to the car when Suguru speaks again.

"Actually, I did feel a little strange," he says, "I felt like I wasn't really all there. There was this voice, guiding me along."

"Really?" Satoru shivers. "That sounds creepy."

So the entity within Suguru was a bad thing after all. He should try to get rid of it if it ever comes back. It might take a complex spell or something-

"Not really." Suguru said. "It's hard to explain, but it felt....nice."

"Nice?" Satoru echoes.

"Yeah."

And then it's quiet again.)

Part two: Rewound Infinitely

[bunnys-kisses]

show-off (price's version)

capt. john price

cw: smut/pwp, filth, dirty talk, filming, mirror sex, doggy style, age gap (20s/40s)

simon's version | johnny's version | kyle's version

what belonged to price, belonged to no one else. that was sort of the rule. but that didn't mean that price didn't share... images. while the rest of 141 couldn't touch what was his, they could touch themselves to photos and videos of price's "puppy".

the cute little failed cadet that price swept away to a charmed little life. he told the boys you did better as a girlfriend than a cadet.

"ain't she a beauty?" price beamed over drinks on evening, "prettiest fuckin' thing i'd ever seen. let's me do all kinds of dirty things to her. she's my baby girl." then laughed.

even in a photo the other members of the team were chubbed in their pants. you just had this charm to you that greatly turned them on, you beyond gorgeous.

it made them a little jealous, and price knew that.

simon, johnny and kyle all woke up on the second day of their time off, to a video file in the group chat. the file was dense in size. what they didn't expect was the following.

you were in front of the mirror with price holding his phone camera. in the reflection was your naked body knelt in front of the full length mirror. price was behind you, he was nude as well. his built. hairy body was such a contrast to you.

you looked so small compared to him. like he had plucked you from the heavens and bounced you on his cock. you held onto the carpet under you as you rolled your hips.

"that's it darlin'." he said, "that's my baby girl." his voice was low, but picked up by the microphone on the phone. there was a nice sheen of sweat of your body as you worked yourself on price's cock like a good girl.

"john, please." you whimpered as you tried to keep yourself up right. withering on his cock was he stayed perfectly still. he was letting you do all the work.

"look up at the mirror, love. show the boys what their missin'." price chuckled as he rubbed his cock inside of you. the stimulation made you moan. when he saw that you weren't looking, he used his free hand to yank on your face till you were looking right at the mirror, "bad girl." he said, "and i was just gloatin' about ya to the team. tellin' them how much of a good girl you were for me. listenin' and, waitin' with legs open."

you whimpered as you continued to jack hammer your hips against him. there was a fire burning in your belly as you fucked yourself on price's cock. you made him promise that this wasn't going to be sent to everyone on base. price told you it was just "for the boys".

which meant simon, johnny and kyle all had the luxury of seeing you fuck yourself on their captain's cock.

"see how she is, boys?" he asked the camera, his eyes on the screen to make sure that they could see the video in the clearest definition, "ya gotta get yourself a good girl. ya keep findin' them at clubs and bars. don't bother, find yourself one who's eager to please. make her a better wife than a solider." price laughed before he buried his face in your neck and gave you what you craved.

movement of his hips.

you were practically face first in the carpet as price started to fully take over. the camera panned away from the mirror down to the back of your head as he took control.

your noises were so sweet they bordered on pathetic. the sounds of your wet pussy filled the room and easily caught on video. price got right in there, watching your pussy take him too his root.

"see boys." he said, "just find yourself a good girl like that. maybe if you behave, she'll tell her friends all about the task force." he laughed, the idea of your sweet friends ending up with someone like simon was almost adorable.

you whimpered and he held your head into the carpet, your ass right in the air as he started to really work at your pussy. your ass bounced with each hard thrust.

"pretty little slut." price laughed as he fucked you into the carpet, "knows how to keep her man happy, and it ain't from good cookin'!" he erupted in laughter as he just ruined your cunt.

his pace became ragged, his thrusts more desperate than before. he sole focus was getting to finish inside of you. but you beat him to it, you clawed at the carpet and whined. your pussy clamped around price's thick cock. you orgasm spurred his on and he almost dropped his phone as he buried his entire length into you.

a few heavy pants and he slowed down. he managed to focus himself enough to film himself pulling out his bare cock out of your sweet pussy. watching the stretch as the entire thing came out.

he pointed the camera one last time and asked, "ready for another round?" followed by a airy laugh.

you responded by lifting your head and nodded. you looked painfully blissed out. but ready for more. and price was going to give you more.

the video ended and a few minutes later, price sent a message.

rise and shine, boys! the message said, early bird gets the worm! followed by an image of your cum filled pussy as you laid on the carpet.

the rest of task force 141 was not embarrassed to admit the video and photo were quickly saved for later usage. what would they say, price's girl was just fuckable.

[xneens]

wasted summer - one

series masterlist

watching jj like someone else hurts, thankfully, you finds comfort in rafe’s arms … and his bed.

Music boomed in your ears, the party in full swing as you made your way upstairs, away from the guys smoking weed and girls dancing to Kanye West. Using a guest room on the third floor, you opened the window and crawled out onto the roof. With a drink in hand, you watched partygoers jump into the Cameron's pool, observing the party from afar.

Taking a sip of the cheap vodka JJ had gotten, you glanced at the blond, a frown on your lips as you saw him sweep Kiara off her feet, jumping into the pool with her. Kiara likes JJ, that much you know is true after she had drunkenly confessed during a girl's night out. Bitterness grew inside you as you watched him respond to her subtle flirting, praying desperately he didn't return her feelings but your own.

You look away, downing the rest of the cup before throwing it off the roof in hopes of it hitting someone. Hopefully either one of them, but they were still playing in the pool. Together.

"Littering on my property? Harsh." a voice behind you murmurs as he crawls out the window, sitting beside you on the roof. Rafe grins at you, bringing the blunt to his lips.

You roll your eyes, keeping them on him instead of the heartwrenching scene below you. "Like you haven't littered at my house before. Payback."

"So vengeful ever since you started hanging out with those Pogues." Rafe chuckles, offering you a hit off his blunt. You decline it with a wave of your hand and he shrugs, taking another hit off of it.

Glancing back at JJ and Kiara, you can't help the pang in your heart as you watch them play in the pool, splashing each other with large smiles on their faces. Sighing, you look back at Rafe, suddenly wishing you'd brought a bottle of Titos with you.

Rafe arches a brow, a smirk dancing on his lips. "What're you doing up here, anyways? Shouldn't you be hanging out with the Scooby gang?"

Not wanting to be in his eyesight, you lay down on the roof, staring at the night sky, the lights from the party polluting the starry sky. "I needed a break."

"From those dirty Pogues?"

You smack his arm, causing the blond to burst out laughing. "Stop bullying my friends."

"Bullying works," replied Rafe, shifting to mirror your position. He groans softly as he lays back on the roof. "Remember Agatha Haynes? She no longer smokes fifty cigarettes a day after you called her Hagatha."

A snort escapes your lips before you can stop it. You shake your head. "God, I was a bitch."

"You still are." Rafe dodges another smack, a teasing grin slapped across his face. "Still the spoiled, snobby, selfish girl you were. You're just better at hiding it now."

"Oh, and the hits just keep coming." You groan out dramatically, smiling back at him. "I'll have you know that I am very empathetic and care about other people's feelings.”

The blond shakes his head, taking a hit from his blunt. "Is that why you're hiding out from your gang of mutts? Because you care about them so much you don't want them to know you're suffering in silence?"

"I wish you'd suffer in silence."

"Woah, don't violate the thirteenth-year truce," Rafe replies, drawing out a reluctant smile from you.

Rafe was ... Rafe. Born with a golden spoon in his mouth, acted like every rich kid from Figure 8, only worse, and knew how to get his way. The only fight the blond had lost was to a coked-out tourist to who Rafe ironically sold the coke.

Most people didn't see that he could be nice when he wanted to. You always held it above everyone that Rafe Cameron had a soft spot for you, even if it only came from being his little sister's best friend. Still, it was nice to be one of the few people not to be on the receiving side of his hostility, a side Sarah was constantly on.

It was a weird friendship built on a truce made by four and six-year-olds. During your fourth birthday party, Rafe had gifted you with a promise to never be the cause of your tears and you promised to never cut holes in his tighty whities again.

After a few minutes of silence, Rafe turns his head to look at you, exhaling out smoke. "Seriously, though, why are you hiding?"

"Not hiding, taking a break." You correct him, refusing to meet his eyes. He wasn't completely wrong, you were hiding from your friends, specifically two of them.

"That's such bullshit." scoffs the man next to you, rolling his eyes at your words. "Tell me."

You groan, covering your face with your hands in hopes of hiding your embarrassment from him. "No. It's nothing."

"Tell me."

"Stop being nosy."

Rafe snickers, putting his blunt out before grabbing your hands and pulling them away from your face gently. Eyes filled with serenity, a sight only you and Wheezie ever got to see. "Tell me, you know I won't tell anyone."

Your playful pout makes his grin widen. "You'll make fun of me."

"Me? After our truce?" asks Rafe, throwing his head back in laughter. "Never."

After contemplating whether to lie to his face, you sigh, rubbing your temples. It couldn't hurt to tell him, it's not as if he ever told anyone stuff you've told him before. "Kiara likes JJ. And ... I think he likes her back."

An awkward moment of silence hangs in the air before Rafe inhales sharply. "Oh. I didn't realize you wanted to fuck the help."

"Rafe." your tone made him throw his hands up in surrender. Staring back up at the sky, you scrunched your nose. "I kind of like him. It just sucks a little seeing them so touchy with each other and flirting in my face. If they become official, then I'll literally be the only person in the friend group without anyone. I'll be a seventh wheel and that's so fucking pathetic."

"You're getting ahead of yourself," says Rafe, scoffing. "My sister found someone who puts up with her shit, you'll have an easier chance finding a boyfriend. If you don't like anyone, I'll volunteer."

You can't help but roll your eyes at his not-so-comforting words. "Thanks. You really know how to make a girl feel better."

The blond chortled, sitting up. "I'm serious. Anyone who isn't blind can see you're clearly much better than those idiots you hang around. The girls you hung out with were annoying as hell but at least they were better than those group of Pogues."

"How very Kook of you to say," you mutter back, not taking Rafe's words earnestly. Shifting, you sit up, eyes flickering back to the pool, immediately spotting Sarah and John B., Pope and Cleo, and JJ and Kiara still playing with each other. "I don't know, they probably don't care I'm not with them right now."

You could feel Rafe's eyes burning a hole in your face, his lack of insults to throw at your friends making you uncomfortable. Anything was better than silence when it came to Rafe. Silence meant he was thinking and you almost always never liked what he was thinking of.

He stands up before holding his hand out, gesturing for you to take it. "Come on, let's get you something to drink. It'll cheer you up."

You immediately take his hand, standing up. "Don't need to convince me."

"None of that cheap shit you've been drinking. My dad has some expensive whiskey he keeps in his study." Rafe adds, climbing back through the window with you right behind him. He doesn't let go of your hand, even after you climb back inside.

Rafe leads you through the swarm of people in the hall, heading towards the second floor for his dad's office. He pushes a guy away from the door, unlocking it and holding it open for you to enter. You step across the threshold, glancing around Ward's office as Rafe shuts the door behind him.

You'd been in Ward's office a handful of times, most times with Sarah and one time with Ward himself when you had skinned your knee riding a bike and he bandaged it up. Being inside the warm-lit room with Rafe felt strange and slightly tense.

Plopping down on the big leather couch, you watch Rafe walk towards the desk, raiding his father's desk drawer until he finds the big bottle of GlenDronach. He grabs two glasses, sitting down beside you as he pours the amber liquid.

You scrunch your nose at the smell. "God, I can smell the hangover."

Rafe smirks, pouring too much into both of the glasses, capping the bottle back up. "Nah, if anything this will help you sleep. It goes down smooth."

You take the glass from Rafe, wincing at the strong musk of the whiskey before downing half the bottle like a shot, immediately coughing after swallowing it down. Rafe's brows furrowed as he watched you slam the half-filled glass down on the coffee table, exasperated. "That did not go down smooth."

"It's sipping whiskey, you don't drink it like a shot of vodka." the blond clarifies, judgment and confusion in his tone. "Who the hell takes a shot of whiskey?"

Glaring at him, you cough out the burning in your throat. "Get me a Sprite, motherfucker."

An amused smirk dances on his lips as he stands up and opens Ward's mini fridge, pulling out a cold can of Sprite. He opens it before handing it to you, sitting back down. "I just witnessed a crime."

You gurgle half the can, soothing your burning throat before glaring at him. "I don't like the taste of alcohol, I just drink it to get drunk. Besides, people who actually enjoy the taste are psychopaths."

"You never miss the chance to tell me I am," Rafe replies, grinning as he takes a more moderate sip of his whiskey. He makes an approving expression, swirling the liquid around the glass.

"You can have mine. I hate it." You push the glass in front of Rafe, leaning back on the couch. Rafe sipped his glass of single malt whiskey while you drank a can of Sprite. "Worse thing I've swallowed. And there's competition."

Rafe makes a face at that, shaking his head. "Please, no details of how the help was in your mouth."

Smacking his arm caused a drop of his whiskey to spill over the side. "Stop calling my friends the help, you snarky asshole."

The blond gives you a look, setting his glass back down on the table. "Maybank helped me carry my golf clubs at the club last week. I can't think of a better title for him. It's in the name."

You roll your eyes, downing the rest of your drink. Rafe could carry his own golf clubs so you knew he sought out JJ's help specifically to taunt and mock him. "If I get the lifeguard job, are you gonna start calling me the help?"

His eyes softened slightly, head tilting towards yours. "No, of course not. You're far better than anyone else, even if you decide to get an unnecessary job.”

"Even better than you?" you arch a brow, watching his lips quirk up in a genuine smile.

"Always," replies Rafe.

Heat pools in your stomach, the whiskey's delayed effect. You glance away from Rafe's sharp eyes. Clearing your throat, you shift on the couch, making yourself more comfortable. "It's not unnecessary, by the way. The job. It looks good on my transcripts."

"Hm, still going to Charleston?"

You shrug, staring at the insurmountably large portrait of Denmark Tanney in Ward's office. "I don't know. My parents want me to, and I'll get into it but I don't wanna be so close to home, you know?"

Rafe's brows furrowed, a frown tugging on his lips. "Where are you thinking?"

"Either New Orleans or London," you answer, pulling a laugh out of Rafe. "Yeah, a wide range of possibilities for me."

"You don't wanna go to Charleston?" questioned Rafe, his eyes never leaving yours. A look of displeasure passes his face. "It's not that close, seven hours."

You make a face, shaking your head. "Seven hours is too close for me.”

The blond scoffed, leaning forward to sip his whiskey.

A smirk tugged at your lips as you observed him. Teasingly, you ask. "What, you gonna miss me when I leave?"

"I thought it was obvious," Rafe replied, downing the rest of his glass. He shifts on the couch, placing his arms on top of it, giving you a sardonic grin. "I think Charleston is far enough."

Rolling your eyes for the millionth time that night, you lay your head back, sighing. "You can come visit me anytime. Just don't bring anyone. Especially not Topper or Kelce."

"Ah, I wouldn't wanna walk in on you and your victims." jokes Rafe, patting your thigh softly. "Wouldn't be the first."

You laugh, winking at him. "Maybe you'll be my next victim."

Rafe raises a brow, leaning back slightly as he stares at you. "Don't tease me, I have no self-control when it comes to you."

"Yes, I think that was clear when you sent Tom Schnitzel to the ER for trying to drug me," you reply, inhaling sharply at the memory. You were positive you still had Tom's blood stained onto the white top from that night. "Thanks for that, by the way. I don't think I properly thanked you for that."

Rafe waves it away with a hand, standing. "Don't worry about it. I needed to get it out that night, anyway. Come on, I have something to show you."

Curious, you follow Rafe out of the office, walking down the hall to his room. He opens the door, motioning for you to enter. Immediately, you plop down on his bed, laying out on the soft mattress as he closes the door behind him. You watch him walk towards his dresser, turning around with a small jewelry box, a bow sitting on the top.

"What's that for?" you ask, taking the box from Rafe, and inspecting it.

He sits on the edge of the bed, eyes watching you fiddle with the box. "Your birthday present."

"It's not for another month."

Rafe shrugs, grinning. "Consider it your early birthday present, then. Come on, open it."

Tilting your head, you lift the top from it, the diamond tennis bracelet sparkling as soon as the light hits it. You gasped softly, taking the bracelet from its mold, watching in fascination as the diamonds danced in the light.

"Holy shit, Rafe," you mutter, inspecting the bracelet. "What the fuck? How much was it?"

The blond chuckled, taking the bracelet and unlocking the hook. He gestured for you to put your wrist out. "Real diamonds. None of that lab-grown bullshit. Don't worry, the cost didn't even dent my account."

You give him a look, allowing him to put the bracelet on your wrist and shake it as soon as it's on. "I told you before that I don't want expensive gifts from my friends. Just my parents."

"I'd like to think I'm more than one of your obnoxious friends," replies Rafe, causing you to give him a look. He snickered, throwing his hands up in surrender. "Last time, I swear."

"Highly doubt that." you turn your attention back to the bracelet, smirking at how it looked against your skin. "Thank you, though. It's really pretty."

Rafe stares at you, blue eyes watching you admire his present. "Yeah, beautiful."

You glance up at him, cheeks flushed from the whiskey and drinks prior. Heat pools in your stomach as your eyes meet his. Clearing your throat, you tuck your hair behind your ear. "Best present I got this year."

He smirks, laying his head down on a pillow, watching as you mirror his movement. "Yeah? Do I get to be your favorite until I piss you off?"

"Of course. I give it five minutes." you tease, grinning when Rafe smacks you with a pillow softly. You dodge his second hit, rolling closer to him, your arm pressed against his. "I was kidding! You'll be my favorite forever."

"That's more like it," Rafe says, a satisfied grin slapped across his face.

You groan softly, rolling onto your side to face the blond, eyes closing. The party was still going on downstairs, the loud thumping of the music heard two stories up. Your mind briefly flickered to what was happening with JJ and Kiara until Rafe's fingers ghosted over your side.

"I swear to god if you're gonna tickle me, Cameron," you grumble, eyes still closed, feeling his fingers roam around until they hit your stomach.

Rafe chuckles quietly, fingers stroking the ribcage tattoo you had gotten with Sarah. "When did you get this?"

"A week ago." you giggle as he runs his fingers up, touching your neck. Your eyes snapped open and you immediately slap his hand away, your brand new bracelet swinging slightly from the movement. "Rafe. You know how ticklish I am."

"Sorry," he smirks, tone unapologetic. His hand drifts to your hips, fingers playing with your cutoff shorts. "Wouldn't want a repeat of the Jenga incident."

Your nose scrunches at that, remembering the night you spent at the ER. "It was an accident."

"Still sticking to that story?"

"You moved your head."

"You threw a glass at my head." Rafe corrected, a smile tugging the corner of his lips up.

Scowling at him, you shake your head. "No, I threw it at the wall behind you. You moved your head at the last second and had to get five stitches."

"If you weren't so fucking competitive ..." Rafe teases, trailing off.

You bite your tongue, letting the subject go with great difficulty, but managing to not bite back. Closing your eyes again, you let your muscles alleviate. "Hm. Whatever."

You both lay in silence for a few minutes, the alcohol in your system and Rafe's soft bed allowing you to relax despite the loud music creeping through the walls. Despite feeling his eyes on you, you felt your body intense, the bed cradling you.

Rafe's hand drifts slowly up your hip, fingertips softly brushing against the sliver of bare stomach before slipping slightly under the hem of your top. Your eyes flutter up at the movement, watching as his thumb draws circles on your skin.

Goosebumps arise, and you suddenly realize how close he is, not even a foot away. His eyes flickered to your lips, his tongue peeking out to wetten his own. Your breath gets caught in your throat, his face somehow closer now.

Maybe it was the alcohol you've consumed trying to forget your own despair or an excuse to get your mind off JJ and Kiara, but you watched as Rafe brought his lips to yours, not pulling back when the taste of whiskey invades your mouth.

A hand caressing your cheek, Rafe rolled over on top of you, his elbows holding up his weight as he kissed you. His tongue sought entry to your mouth, biting your bottom lip. You gasped slightly at the feel, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You melt into his touch, your lips parting slightly as Rafe's tongue sweeps in.

Rafe breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, leaving a string of soft kisses along your collarbone. Tilting your head back, you give him better access, running your hands through his hair, a soft content sigh escaping your lips.

He nips at your collarbones before sucking a mark into your skin, just right above your breast causing you to mewl at the touch, your hands drifting to his shoulders, freshly manicured nails digging into his skin. You meet his eyes, his ocean blues now darkened like the water during a storm.

Something comes over your body, seeing Rafe in a new light. Suddenly needy and impatient, your hands tugged at the hem of Rafe's black polo, pleading silently for him to take it off. Taking your hint, he sits up, taking it off in one swift move, tossing it on the floor.

You'd never admit it, not even to Rafe–especially to Rafe, but you'd always loved his abs. The definition of the, so toned, tanned, and delectable. He may have been your friend, but you weren't blind to his looks, and definitely how his abs looked when he flexed them.

As your fingers traced the defined line down his stomach, Rafe's hands slid under your top until the tips of his fingers met the fabric of your bikini top. Needing more, a lot more, you sit up, ridding yourself of the offensive clothing. You heard Rafe groan, pushing you back onto the bed, eyes roaming the sight of the hot pink bikini top you still wore, the top so little it was hardly covering your nipples.

"So fucking beautiful," he murmured, reaching out and pulling off the top quickly, the thin string breaking at the force, your tits spilling out. You gasped, nipples hardening in the cold air. Rafe groaned at the sight, hands cupping your breasts, his breath hitting your nipples. "Fucking incredible."

You arched your back, moaning softly as his tongue wettens a nipple before taking it into his mouth. His teeth nibble it, sucking and teasing the hard bud while his fingers play with the other, rolling it between his fingers. Rafe pinches it gently, looking up at you with a smirk when you mewl.

Running your hands over Rafe's back, you feel the warmth and firmness of his muscles, wetness pooling at the thought of kissing every single inch of his torso. Before he could take the other nipple into his mouth, you pull his lips back to yours, wrapping an arm around his neck as a hand runs down his back, nails scratching his spine.

Rafe's hand moves down your sides, fingers playing with the button of your shorts. Pulling back from the kiss, he unbuttoned your shorts, slowly–and agonizingly–sliding them off. The cutoffs pile onto his shirt on the floor.

You know Rafe's experienced, so are you, but you swore he almost looked nervous as he stared down at you, his hands slightly shaky as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your matching pink thong. Those join the discarded clothing on his bedroom floor.

He looks like a man starved as his eyes focus on your bare cunt, hungry and almost animalistic as he leans closer to your glistening pussy, nose nearly touching the clit. "You're already so wet."

Instinctively, you spread your legs wider, hands grasping the sheets as his finger leisurely dips into your wet pussy, your lips parting slightly. His thumb touches your clit, rubbing it gently. You groan, hips bucking at the feel, needing more. "Fuck."

Rafe smirks, pushing a finger into your cunt, watching as your face contorted in pleasure. He adds a second before you could come down from the small high. "Look at you, so needy and desperate."

Before you could think of a retort, he leans down to replace his thumb with his tongue, licking and sucking at your clit as his fingers continue to thrust inside you, gaining speed. The sight of Rafe's head between your legs, his tongue flicking your clit was so erotic, the vision enough for you to get wetter. You throw your head back, your fingers tangling in Rafe's hair as you pull his head closer to your dripping pussy, a moan filling the room.

His fingers hit that spot inside you, causing a surprise whimper from your lips to escape. Rafe pauses, glancing up at you, pride in his eyes before he doubles his efforts, his fingers curling to reach that spot. He sucks your clit, nibbling it when you tug his hair.

"Rafe," you moan, arching your back. You push his head deeper between your thighs, pussy clenching around his fingers, so close to falling off. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"That's right, say my fucking name when you cum on my fingers," Rafe grunted, his fingers plunging in and out of your soaking wet cunt. He licks your clit, staring up as you come closer.

A dripping mess, you buck your hips up as Rafe continues his relentless actions on your pussy, moans of pleasure filling the room. His free hand moves up your torso, cupping your breast before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

You lose it when he pinches it harshly, moaning loudly as you come undone, pussy clenching around his fingers, throbbing. You whimper out his name, your hand gripping his hair. "Fuck!"

Rafe laps it all up, replacing his fingers with his tongue, hands holding your legs open as you attempt to close them, your clit sensitive. He runs his tongue along your pussy, lapping up your juices, groaning at the taste, unable to pull himself away.

He licks his lips, staring possessively at your cunt before looking up at you with a proud smile. "You taste so fucking good."

He then proves it to you, lips meeting yours in a kiss. You taste yourself on him as you kiss him back, lips moving against each other. As you come down from the high, you roll him over, straddling his torso. You move your lips to his neck, marking it until you kiss down his chest. Meeting his eyes, you run your tongue down his abs, kissing every individual one.

You move to straddle his legs, quickly unbuttoning his pants, much opposite of his agonizingly slow approach. Rafe lifts his hips, helping you take off his jeans, sitting up to pull you in for another kiss. Giggling, you push him back onto the bed, your fingers sliding underneath the band of his boxers.

You bite your lip as you take out his cock, your hand wrapping around it immediately. The size of it made your mouth water, licking your lips in anticipation as you stroked it slowly causing Rafe to groan. With an approving hum, you lick the tip, meeting Rafe's hungry gaze.

Smirking, you run your tongue along the length of it, pulling back when Rafe bucks his hips up, glaring at you for teasing him. Chuckling, you decide to end the shortlived torture, taking his cock into your mouth, your warm, wet lips wrapping around his cock.

He groans, fingers pulling at your hair, guiding your movements, and urging you to take more of him. The sight of your soft, pink lips wrapped around his cock was something he'd never forget. "That's it, baby. Suck my dick like a good slut."

You felt your pussy clench at his words, growing wetter as you suck him off, eagerly bobbing your head up and down his dick. Pre-cum drips onto your tongue and you savor the taste, moaning around his cock, Rafe grunting at the feel of the vibrations.

Not wanting him to cum down your throat, you stop, slapping his cock on your tongue, smiling innocently when he narrows his eyes at you. He looked so hot staring down at you, chest heaving as he panted lightly, his knuckles white as he tried to restrain himself. His cock bobbed up as if begging for attention.

Shifting, you move up his body until your pussy is inches from Rafe's cock. You tap your clit with his cock, whimpering quietly, your clit still sensitive. Rafe's hands drift to your hips and you smack them away, giving him a smile as you rub your cunt against his dick, wanting to tease him just a little bit more.

He grits out your name, hands by his sides as he clenches them into a fist. "Stop teasing.”

"Or what?" you arch a brow, smirking as you let the head of his cock slip into your wet cunt. Temporarily speechless, Rafe lets out a guttural groan as you sink down unhurriedly, watching as your pussy wraps around his cock until he bottoms out. The size of his cock stretches you out, your walls fluttering around him as you rock slowly. "Holy shit."

"Jesus Christ." Rafe growls, his hands cupping your tits as you begin to bounce on his dick. He squeezes them, watching as your pussy swallows his cock like a vice. "So tight. Made just for me."

You moan at his words, leaning back and placing your hands on his thigh, giving him a view men would kill for. You ride his cock, throwing your head back at the feel of his cock stretching you out. Rafe reaches down, slapping your ass as you ride him, and you mewl at the gentle pain. "Rafe."

Rafe's thumb touches your clit, rubbing it as he watches you ride his cock, his lips parted slightly like he is seeing one of the seven wonders of the world. His eyes dart between his cock sliding in and out of your cunt and your face contorts with pleasure, moaning every time you slide down his cock.

"Fucking gorgeous." Rafe whispers, thrusting up into you, his pupils dilated when you whimper loudly. He sits up, his hands gripping your waist, moving his face in front of your bouncing tits, taking a nipple into his mouth, swirling it with his tongue. "So much better than I imagined, baby."

You place your hands on his shoulders, pussy clenching around his cock. You moan into his ear, kissing his neck as he thrusts up into you, your legs trembling as you draw closer to cumming. "Rafe, I'm gonna cum."

The words cause him to double his efforts, gripping your waist so tight it would leave bruises, his cock filling you up as he fucks you fast. His lips drag across your neck, leaving a mark as his cock brushes against your cervix. "Cum for me. Cum all over my cock like a fucking slut."

You cry out as you come, your cunt tightening around his cock. You bite Rafe's shoulder, muffling your ungodly loud moan. "Fuck, fuck!”

He pulls you back in for a kiss, spilling his seed into your awaiting pussy. Rafe slows to a stop, groaning against your lips, his cock nuzzled deep inside you. Rolling you on your back, he doesn't separate from you, keeping his dick warm as he kisses you languidly. Taking a breath, he breaks the kiss, staring down at you, a small smile gracing his lips. "You alright, sweetheart?"

Tired and content, you return his smile, pussy throbbing around his softening cock. You nod, eyes heavy. "Yeah, you?"

Rafe chuckles quietly. "Yeah, me too."

As your eyes drift close, you feel Rafe press a kiss to your forehead.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 | 𝐂.𝐒 ♡

【Synopsis】 : You finally gain the courage to tell your sweet boyfriend you're a virgin... Now, all you gotta worry about is how he'll react.

『Word count』 :  5.73k

-> Genre: Smut. Slice of Life. Fluff. Angst.

Pairing: Boyfriend!San x Chubby!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Body image issues. Negative thoughts. Anxious. Dirty talk. San got a filthy fucking mouth. Unprotected sex (Don't do that). Soft sex. Slight rough sex? Crying. Overstim. Fingering. Breast play. Hickeys. Making out. Lube and condoms are used. Idk this was tooth rotten sweet, so enjoy.

Thank you, anonnie for this request, hehe ♡

Networks: @newworldnet @blossomnet

This is not beta read so if their is any mistakes ignore it hehe.

Masterlist | Navigation | Buy me a Ko-Fi ♡

Sometimes, when you gaze at the way your boyfriend smiles, laughs, or talks someone else's ear off, you really question how you managed to be with him. He was the centre of attention, the crowd player. Everything, confident and perfect. He was the man everyone wanted to be or be with. And then there was you. Sure, you have grown to love some of your insecurities, and getting older helps with that. But you still stand too long in front of the mirror, examining every part you wish to change, and you always make sure to dress to your size. You were chubby… had been all your life, so to have someone like San, be with someone like you, confused you on most days.

What was worse… You were inexperienced. Now, you know being a virgin in your twenties isn't new and is quite common in this day and age but the idea of having to tell your boyfriend, you're perfect in every way boyfriend, that you were still a virgin terrified you.  You kissed and made out before, but the minute he goes to touch you, you’ve recoiled away. Why is he even attracted to me? You’d think over and over again. Does he actually want me? You cried time and time again. It’s been almost a year into your relationship, and San has made nothing clear about how the sex aspect of your life should be.

Most men you’ve tried to date want to get into your pants either instantly or just not at all.

But San wanted to wait. Heck, this man was prepared to wait for marriage if needed. He loved you the moment he found you lurking in the record shop his friend owns. Your love for music brought you two together, and on that same day, he found out your name. He had told his friend that he wanted to marry you. Of course, his friend thought he was stupid and in the puppy love stage, and the delusion would wear off. But here he sits, snuggled up next to you on the couch, stealing glances at your beautiful face almost over a year later, and he still believes to himself he was done. This was it. He found his person and was going to spend the rest of his life with you.

So why couldn’t you see what he sees?

He’s noticed the way you belittle yourself. Caught the way you stare at your beautiful curves in the mirror. Felt you shy away from his delicate touch… All he wants is to touch you and make you feel like the only person in the world. Be dotted and worshipped. Was that too hard to ask?

“San…” Your soft voice snapped him out of his spiralling thoughts, instantly looking over at you, even turning his shoulders slightly so he was facing you with his whole body.

“Yes, baby? You okay?” He knew the tone in your voice too well. He knew it was hiding your nerves.

“I…” You gulped on a thick ball of saliva. “I n-need to tell you something.” You were shaking at this point, having no clue what was coming over you to tell him finally. Maybe it was guilt that yelled at you not to cage him anymore and let him know the truth so you weren't a burden to him anymore. Or maybe it was the way you wanted to be honest with him. Let him see all the sides of you, even the ones you hated. Or maybe, just maybe, it was because deep down, you were over being a virgin, over not knowing what these magical feelings are that are spoken about in romance movies and novels… maybe you just yearned just as much as he did.

“Hey, Doll. You can tell me anything, okay? I’m here and I’ll be here no matter what.” He moved your legs so they were lying over his lap so he could shuffle closer to you before grabbing your shaking hands, holding onto them tightly. “What’s the matter, lovely?”

“I’m…I…” You looked away from his gaze, taking in a staggered breath as you finally whispered out, “I’m a virgin…”

The silence scared you, letting you hear your heart ringing in your ears. You felt like you were being caught on fire and had no control of the flames that were about to engulf you entirely. Then you hear San let out a sigh of relief. “Is that it, baby?”

His smile was bright, chuckling lightly, squeezing your hands tighter. You looked at him with confusion, feeling a sense of shame. Was he laughing at you? “What do you mean that it?!” You were completely dumbfounded by the situation now. This was not how it played out in your head.

“I thought you were going to say you killed someone, or worse, you were going to dump me.” He raked his hand through his hair. Sighing out another relieving breath, but this time it caught in his throat when you pushed his chest.

“Why the fuck would think I’d kill someone San!! and how is dumping you worse than murder?” You pulled away from him, pouting fake anger in his direction. You take your legs off his lap, curling yourself at the end of the couch. He tried to pry your legs away from your chest while you both laughed.

“If you were to dump me I’d scream on the top of a building to tell the world how I managed to hurt the most beautiful, kind-hearted, not to mention fucking unbelievably sexy woman in the world. I would feel terrible if I hurt you to the point you would want to dump me…” He suddenly stopped being dramatic with his rambles as he suddenly noticed your stillness and the tears swelling in your eyes.

“Y-you think I’m sexy…” You sounded so stupid being the only thing you took out of the whole confession. From your knowledge, you do not think you’ve ever heard someone say you were attractive, let alone sexy. San raised his brows with his lips stretched thin. He hooked his hand under the back of our left knee, tugging you forward so you were now snuggled up against him. His fingers grip your chin, bringing your face inches to his before taking his thumb so he could wipe away your tears.  

“The sexiest.” He whispered before pecking your cheek. “The way you smile makes my heart swell.” He kissed your other cheek. “The way you blabber on about whatever show we’re watching and your nose scrunches in the cutest way.”

“I don’t blabber…” You pout, letting him kiss your nose, making his scrunch. He tugged on your waist this time, opening your legs slowly until one was lying across his lap.

“Yes, you do… you also whine…” he kissed your cheek again. “And pout.” He kissed your jaw softly. “And moan…” his hot tongue dipped out of his mouth for a second to lick a little stripe of your neck, making you whimper out a sound you’ve never heard leave your lips before. “You can make the sweetest noises. and don’t get me started on these.”

He gripped your hips, tightly squeezing your waist. Something you are insanely insecure about. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about holding onto these love handles while I make the sweetest, filthy love to you?” His voice was smooth like butter, leaving a melting whisper in your ear. He finally grabbed a hold of you completely, pulling you onto his lap much to your refusal.

“S-san…I’m heav―Do not fucking finish that sentence or so help me god I will strip you down right now and show you how much I love every part of you.” he pulled away so he could hold your face with both hands, locking you in place so you were forced to look in in the eyes. “I do not care if you are a virgin. And I do not care if you have some more curves than others. I am so in love with you sweetheart. Every part of you is perfect in my eyes. And if you are scared of sex. Or unsure how to navigate it. I’m here. I’d be happy to show you, find the way your body likes it. Anything and I’m here. You can't get rid of me that easily.”

“I…” Now you were really crying, making San bring you in for a tight hug so you could sob into his chest.

“Maybe not tonight or next week. But whenever you are ready. We can try. I’ll wait until you’re comfortable.” He kissed your forehead softly, letting you slowly calm yourself down. But as you shifted side to side on his lap, you grew impatient. You loved the fact San was willing to wait, but on the other hand, you were frustrated with yourself, and with the situation you had put yourself in…

And so the waiting began. At first, you were nervous that your relationship would shift, and things would become awkward between the two of you. But San acted like nothing happened. He didn’t treat you any differently, unlike other men had in the past, and he didn’t bring it up until you did first. A couple of days after the conversation, you tried your luck when he was cooking. You were enjoying each other's company when you gave him at first a nice innocent kiss. But as your heart rate picked up and his lips became sloppier on yours, you thought this was it. But then the doorbell rang.

Turns out Wooyoung needed San for an emergency… of course, he did.

You tried another time, but then you felt a sudden cramp that let you know that Aunt Flo was coming to visit, so that was a quick turn off. It was only four weeks later after the conversation that you finally got tired of waiting and was going to do everything to have your chance. So on a quiet Sunday evening, where it had been raining all day and the winter weather was quickly setting in. You snuggled up with San in bed. He was on his phone watching whatever he could find while you were not so focused on a book you were reading. You had read the one page in front of you for about an hour before giving up.

You shifted slowly, moving closer to him, simply saying you just wanted to see what he was watching. So you too sat for another twenty-odd minutes while he showed you the brain rot known as his TikTok. Your fingers rubbed slow circles in his chest while you nuzzled your nose in the crook of his neck. You were content for a moment, just sitting in his presence... That was until you felt Sans's hand drag slowly on your hip and back, just lovingly caressing you. It made your face heat up. Such a simple touch that you would normally shy away from or recoil. But not this time, these few weeks. You had tried your best to be more physically affectionate with him.

And man, did you find out how much of a cuddler Choi San is.

His new favourite thing was to hold you tightly while you both slept. Bye-bye shiba, you were his new plushie to latch onto all night long. When you cook, he would come up behind you and pull your ass against his crotch by your hips, giving you a soft kiss on the side of your face while whispering ‘I missed you.’

You didn’t think San could get any more desirable but, low and behold here he is.

“Baby?” His voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making you tilt your view to see his dark eyes staring down at you. “Where did you go? Wandering in space again?” His chuckle caused even more blush to riddle your feature, tainting your ear now in a deep red.

“It.. uh. It’s nothing just thinking…” You couldn’t possibly tell him you were thinking about him in a not-so-safe-for-work way. Just the pure scent of him was driving you insane. Your fingers laced in his shirt as you looked back at his phone but you were looking at what was on the screen but instead, dazed off, deep in your mind, replaying the way San kissed you the other night. The filthy but caring words he whispered as he touched you softly. Your mind, body, and soul were craving to feel that again...

And San seemed to notice. He knew you were scared about intimacy, and he wanted you to tell him directly when you were ready. But unlike your shyness, your lover boy knew how to read you. He knew you were scared about intimacy, and he wanted you to tell him directly when you were ready. But unlike your shyness, your lover boy knew how to read you. He knew the tension of your body. The way you were holding onto him was a little tighter than normal. The way he spoke, you were too busy in your mind to notice. He could also see the way your thighs were clenched so tightly together, trying so desperately to give you some relief. You were horny and you didn't know how to tell him.

But he could help you...

"Princess? Baby..." He cooed, gently drawing circles down your back. You look up to him with wide doe eyes, lust dripping from them. Your fingers tangled in his loose shirt while your heart rate jumped, suddenly feeling hot and bothered.

"Y-yes, Sannnie..." You gulped, shifting slightly. He let out a light chuckle, dropping his phone onto the bed somewhere. He wrapped his arm around you so he could pull you onto his lap, letting you shift your body until your thighs sat nicely on either side of him.

“Is there something you want to tell me, sweetheart?” His voice was low, sensual… His hands were firmly placed on your hips but did nothing to move you. No, he wanted you to take the lead.

“I…I, uh…” You shifted again, moving slowly from side to side to try and get comfortable. Your eyes were wandering around the room trying to look anywhere but San. His grip on your waist got tighter as he felt your hot core rub against him at just the right pace. Fuck, if you keep doing that, he doesn’t know if he would be able to control himself.

"Sweetheart, if you keep grinding yourself on me, we're gonna have a problem." He choked through a bitten lip, making your eyes suddenly draw to where your hips met his. You could see a very obvious bulge straining his sleep shorts.

"I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean—Baby I need you to shut up and kiss me, okay?" San interrupted you holding your face. He gave you the biggest smile as you took a breath and finally placed your lips on his. You felt the tingle and twist in your gut tighten. The feeling you had been chasing was now knocking at your door, and you were ready to finally let it in.

"S-Sannie—Shh kissing time..." You tried to speak, but San's mouth swallowed any noise from you, making you aware that his tongue wanted to slip inside. You had no clue what to do, but you decided to let your body take the lead. Leaning in, your chest was pressed firmly against Sans, and your hips started to move slowly with the help of Sans's hands. Your fingers laced into the ends of his hair, tugging it to draw a whine from your lover.

"Fuck, baby." He nibbled your bottom lip, whimpering out. He could feel the heat from your core through the thin fabrics of your sleeping attire making him almost just say fuck it and flip you over so he could ravish you his way. But no, he needed you to take the lead, even though it was killing him. You let out a big sigh through your nose, growing frustrated with every grind. You needed more. You craved more. You needed him to touch you bare. Anywhere.

“San..” You whined more sternly in the kiss, his teeth gripping your bottom lip in annoyance that you were talking again. “S-San. I need you to touch me right fucking now please.” Your hands push against his chest making him finally pull back to look at your swollen kissed lists and blown pupils.

“Y-yeah baby. I can do that.” He bit his lip, reaching for your shirt to tug it off your body. You just roll your eyes at your goofball of a boyfriend, helping him. He leaned forward, giving your newly exposed kiss light kisses. You felt too exposed, but you tried to push through it. You knew San loved you and loved every part of you, but that didn’t mean you didn’t overthink the fact that your soft plump skin was on display for such a man like him. Your curves were in his view. He could finally see you completely.

It terrified you.

“Hey baby, look at me.” He gripped your chin, noticing the way your mind had wandered off. You focus back on him, and he notes the anxiousness lurking in your gaze. He smiled at you, slowly retching for your bra clip. “I love you. Every part of you. This pretty body is all mine now, you hear?” He kissed your collarbone, then your neck, then your jaw, before finishing with a peck on your lips. “Come on, say it for me.”

“M-my body…” You stuttered.

“No. Say it properly.” he was stern with one hand holding your hip firmly while the other just kept circling the clip on your back. You felt your face turn red as you started to play with the collar of San’s shirt.

“My body—No…” He cut you off, making you gulp, “My… P-pretty body is all yours.”

“That’s it. Such a good girl, hmm.” He hummed as he unclipped your bra, watching intensely as the straps fell from your shoulders. You help him tear the fabric from your body, leaving your top half completely bare. San had a hitch in his breath as he came face to face with your plump tits. How dare you keep these from him. How did he go so long without having his mouth on them he wouldn’t know… All he did know was that he was going to have you covered in his marks by the end of the night. “Fuck you’re so hot..”

“S-Sannie..” You whimpered as you tugged on his shirt, feeling a little bit too underdressed compared to him. He just chuckles, shifting until you fall back with an ‘oof’. He was now snug between your legs, placing an open kiss on your left breast, taking your sensitive nipple in his mouth. You gasped, grabbing a fistful of his hair in seconds. You’ve never felt such a sensation. It was almost ticklish mixing with a wet tingle spilling down your body straight to your core.

He moved away too soon with an audible pop as he sat up to rip his shirt off. “Fuck baby, you have no idea how badly I wanna fuck these tits. Maybe I’ll do that after I fuck you hmm?” His filter was officially out the window, no longer caring what he might say, all he was thinking now was making you feel the most heavenly pleasure while he got his fill of you.

“Do anything to me San… I’m yours..” You don’t know what came over you to make you say that, but you were glad you did cause the look on Sans's face was priceless. A mixture of shock, pride, and hot, red, lust. So, without another word, San bit down on your breast, causing you to let out a yelp. His hand flew for your shorts, slipping past the hem before dipping into your panties. Your yelp quickly turned into a loud gasp as you felt his cold fingers met your throbbing clit. You’ve never felt such a pleasurable feeling. The way his fingers circle your sensitive nub, slow and steady. Your fingers tangle in the end of his hair, tugging harshly as his lips latch onto your collarbone sucking in a deep red mark.

“You shouldn’t have said that, sweetheart.” He bit down on your shoulder, fondling your breast, pinching your nipple between his thumb and finger and pressing harshly down on your clit. Your head felt like it was being filled with cotton and your mind started to fuzz into mush with the only thing playing on loop being San and what he had planned for you.

Every move he made was delicate, calculated. He made sure everything he did was perfect for you. His cock was starting to ache in his boxers but he couldn’t care less. The only thing he worried about was making you reach your climax. And with a staggering breath and fast-paced heart, he knew you were close, just needing one more push. “Come on pretty girl. You can do it.” he brushed his nose against your neck before slowly kissing up your jaw until his breath was tickling your ear… “I wanna feel you come all over my fingers.”

He moved swiftly to keep his slow rubs but changed his pointer finger with his thumb before slipping just one finger inside you. Your gasp was high-pitched, stroking out a cry. You felt a tear breaching your eyes as you’ve never felt anything inside you before. Your whole body became over sensitive, and a snap undid all the pent-up pleasure that was running rampant through you. “San, San, San, Oh… Fuck!!”

“That’s it. You are such a good girl.” He kisses your cheek, slowing his fingers before coming to a stop. He let you lay there for a moment, just listening to each others heartbeats and heavy breaths. He moved beside you, pulling his hand out of your underwear so he could hold you close. He wanted to wait, see if you wanted to continue. Deep down, he desired more. He loved nothing more than to fuck you into the mattress until you were a screaming mess. But he needed to know where your lines were. What you needed. And if that meant stopping tonight right now… He would be more than satisfied.

You laid there for a moment, feeling suddenly overwhelmed that San was pleasuring you. You smiled… Then sighed, before laughing. Covering your face with your arm, you felt tears starting to pool in your eyes. This got San worried. He sat up straight, sitting on his knees next to you. “Baby are you okay? Did I hurt you?” San was mortified thinking you were crying. He hurt you. He’s finished. He was ready to pack his bags and leave if you said the words, but when he grabbed your arm and moved it away from your beautiful face, he saw a smile. A crooked, hysterical smile… oh no…

“Baby…” He said with caution.

You looked him in the eyes and finally stopped, “You know, if I knew sex felt like this, I would have jumped you sooner.”

Now it was his turn to start laughing, falling to sit on his ass. He threw back a whole chesty laugh. Some filled with pure joy and relief. “Baby, you scared me for a second. I thought I had hurt you.”

You sat up, placing your hands on his bare chest, gliding them along his toned skin towards his shoulders before resting on the back of his neck. “You could never hurt me, Sannie.” The laughter had calmed, and the tension began to grow again. Your lips found his in a soft, almost pleading kiss. A silent beg to continue the evening. So San gently laid you back down, not letting his lips break away from yours. His tongue slipped into your mouth, dancing along your own. The feeling was strange at first but quickly turned you on. His hands kept roaming your body, squeezing your curves and plump love handles. For the first time in your life, you didn’t feel insecure anymore. Maybe not confident, but you felt comfort. Safe in San’s arm. And as he slowly pulled down your shorts, you didn’t shutter away this time. You instead invited him. Helped him remove the fabrics until you were completely bare to him.

“So beautiful. My stunning girl. God, I can’t believe you are all mine.” He moaned into your mouth, shaking his own shorts off before sitting up to lean over to the nightstand. You took this moment to gaze down at San’s shorts and boxers sitting at his knees and his very hard cock against his abdomen. You gulped at this thickness. You’ve never seen a cock in real life before and they were certainly intimidating. “This is going to be very cold but It’ll be only for a moment.”

San’s voice caught your attention as you snapped your head back to him, seeing him shimmy out of his clothes so he could also now be completely naked. He had a condom and some lube in his hand. Cracking opening the bottle, his eyes met yours with a soft expression as if he was apologizing in advance. You spread your legs for him, letting him rub some of the ice-cold gel on you. The gasp you let out echoed around the room. It was certainly cold, to say the least, but there was something pleasurable about the temperature change. “Fuck, s-sannie.”

“Yeah, I know I’m sorry. You’re being such a good girl. Just a little more.” he cooed, finally finishing applying the lubricant. He tore open the packet of the condom but before he could roll the sheer rubber on his cock, you sat up and grabbed his hand.

“D-do you have to put that on?” Your voice got stuck in his head, making him almost choke on his own spit.

“I uh… I don’t think getting you pregnant is a good idea, sweetheart.” He chuckled awkwardly. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you raw but he wasn’t about to without knowing you two could be as safe as you can be. There was silence for a moment as you suddenly felt embarrassed. You didn’t like talking about your experience on birth control but since your relationship with San had moved up the ladder, it was better to explain it now.

“I’m on the bar. It was to help with my period… b-but it helps with not getting pregnant….” God you’ve ruined the mood, haven’t you? Of course, you are the perfect person to ruin the idea of sex cause you spoke about your goddamn period.

“Fuck me…” San’s groan snapped you out of your overthinking mind. “Do you want me to fuck you, raw baby? Huh? God what are you doing to me.” Blush littered your face, your ears also turning a bright crimson at the sound that spilled from San’s lips. He grabbed his cock, squeezing it with a hitched breath. He felt like he was about to bust right then and there just from your sweet innocent suggestion. “Fuck and here I thought you were my sweet girl?”

“I-I am…I j-jus…” San silenced your stutters with a simple soft kiss, smiling through it. Your eyes fluttered closed, feeling a tingle in your gut. Like butterflies were tickling you. All your senses were already heightened, but San knew how to make your mind even more dizzy than it already was.

“It’s okay, beautiful. I’m gonna fuck you nice and raw.” He kissed your jaw so gently you almost didn’t feel it. “Fill you up.” He kissed your collarbone, making you grab onto his shoulders. His tight grip on your hip made your breath hitch as you felt his nails dig slightly into your plump flesh. San grabbed his stroked his cock roughly, rubbing his tip against your soaked folds.

This caused you to let out a shaky whimper. “S-Sannie.”

“Shh, it’s okay. I’m going to make you feel me for days. Now be a good girl and take a deep breath.” He cooed, pushing his bulbous tip into your hole just slightly. You took in a sharp breath feeling every inch of his cock slowly slip into you. A burning sensation erupted from your core, leaving an ache in its wake. Tears began to form at the pain. You tried to breathe, take deep breaths like San had instructed but it was suddenly very hard to do anything when this pain began to cloud your mind.

“S-San. It h-hurts.” You cried, squeezing his shoulders tightly to the point your nails had dug little crescent shapes into his skin. He rubbed your hips, kissed your neck. Did anything to keep you distracted. He knew it would hurt the first time round, and he felt guilt shiver down his spine at the tears that fell from your beautiful face.

“I know, sweet thing. It’ll go away soon. Come here, baby.” He released a hand from your hips to grab your chin, making you look at him with pleading eyes. His lips met yours again in a gentle, passionate kiss. he inched a little more inside you, and you bit his lip in the process, causing him to moan. And then he sunk in some more, and your nails scratched down his bare back, leaving harsh red marks behind. Every inch he gave, every bit of pain he was forcing you, reciprocated. It was like some beautifully painful dance. That was until he completely bottomed you out.

“Oh my fucking god.” You whimpered. After that brief moment of pain, everything quickly subsided into a warmth of pleasure you have never experienced before. Your body grew suddenly away of how connected you were to San. How close you were. It made you feel loved, cherished. Admired even. Your arms wrapped wrapped tightly around San’s neck, bringing him down for a sloppy kiss before whispering. “Move.”

And he did as you pleased, slowly, inch by inch he pulled out… Until only his tip was inside your aching hole and then with some force pushed back inside you in one swift thrust. Your head threw back at the feeling, letting San latch his hungry mouth on your jugular. Your whole body felt like it was lit on fire from the inside out. A fire that only left room for San. His scent, his movements, his body. Your skin was sensitive to the touch, and both your toes and fingertips were tingling. Pure ecstasy would be the only way to describe what you were feeling.

“There we go. Such a pretty baby. You gonna cream on my cock for me. Please sweetheart I need to feel you come around me.” San’s gravelled words sent shock waves through you. His hot long licking stripes on your sweaty neck, tasting the saltiness your beautiful body was gifting him. He couldn’t get enough. He wanted to be inside you forever. Every waking moment, he wanted nothing more than to be this close to you. Maybe he could try to convince you to cock warm him while you both play video games together. He thought. Or better yet, what if you kept his dick warm with your perfect mouth while he was busy in Zoom meetings or working at his desk. Argh, the image in San’s mind would run rampant. He was going to teach you everything he knows and more.

“S-Sannie please.” You hiccuped, feeling yourself creep closer to the edge. But you needed more. So San gripped the back of your hair and pulled. This gave him more of your neck to attack, biting down on your left side, you screamed. “Ahh Fuck!!”

Deep moans escaped your lips over and over like a sweet melody to San’s ears. He pounded harder, bringing his free hand that was perched on your hips to your ankles, helping you lift them over his broad shoulders. You were successfully folding in half for your lover, giving him the perfect angle to pound harder into you while rubbing your clit in fast circles. “Come one sweet thing. I need you to come so I can empty my load into this greedy fucking pussy.”

His words, the angle, his fingers and thrusts. Everything became too much. Too quickly. A snap erupted through your body and a silent scream fell from your saliva-covered lips. “Jesus fucking christ…” San moaned as he felt your cunt tighten around him, making his hips stutter before he stills entirely, unloading his thick cum deep inside you. Both of you laid there for a moment, panting. San had slowly moved your legs until you were laying flat while he stayed on top of you, caging you in his body warmth. Your hands played with the ends of his hair while his began to massage your hips and thighs.

No words were spoken.

Nothing needed to be said. You both simply enjoyed being close to one another. San’s hands would quickly wander a little too far, leading his fingers to graze against your completely soaked cunt that San was still very much deep inside. Actually, now that he thinks of it, there was a lot of liquid all over the sheets. This made San sit up. “Holy fuck…”

“W-what?!” You were startled at San’s sudden deep growl, sitting on your elbows you looked down and became mortified.

“You fucking squirted.” San said enthusiastically “That is the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

You fell down with a huff, redness painted your face once again, and your arm covered your eyes. San chuckled, giving you a little thrust, making you hiss out. “Come on, baby. don’t shy away now.” You couldn't help but smile at your lover boy's chuckle. His lips kissed your cheek before moving your rm slowly away from your face. “Hey there beautiful…”

He pressed his lips against yours, gifting you the most loving kiss he could conjure. His heartbeat matched yours in that moment, skipping at the thought he was determined to spend the rest of his life with you. You were everything he could ever want and need. And little did he know you felt the same too.

- ♡

Special taglist: @ateezswonderland @wisejudgedragonhairdo @10nantscompanion @stolasisyourparent @bunnyluvr25 @londonbridges01 @foulbreadpirate @maltesejjong @hwallazia @resildatice

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

[daenysx]

hi! how about remus lupin with a shy reader? or something along those lines haha thank you and have a nice day :)

thank you for requesting!! <333 requests are open

remus lupin x fem!reader, fluff

"morning, dove" someone whispers against your ear. there's a kiss brushed on your cheek. you bury your face further into the pillow with a soft hum. the person in question chuckles.

you blink your eyes open. "remus?"

remus smiles, he leans on his elbow as he looks at you with lovesick eyes. "good morning."

he's in your room. on your bed. he sees your sleepy face and your messed up hair. god, he's so pretty and you-

"morning, remus." you jump from bed, your cheeks blushed under his playful eyes. "um- how did you-"

"shelby let me in."

you can't believe you forget you live with a roommate. how else would he be here? "oh- right." you mumble.

"i'm sorry, did i make you uncomfortable?" remus asks, he sits properly to look into your eyes.

"no!" you say, panicking. "no, of course not. i just- i wasn't expecting you and i'm-"

"so pretty." he says. his eyes are so easy to get lost in.

you shake your head. "um- i just, i'm gonna go to the bathroom, 5 minutes."

remus chuckles behind you, he leans back to your headboard.

you have a small bathroom mirror but it doesn't hide how blushed your cheeks are. "come on." you mutter to yourself. you can't help it, your stomach fills with butterflies whenever you see remus. having him on your bed, waking you up? both a dream and a nightmare apparently. you wash your face with cold water, such a poor attempt to calm down.

you leave the bathroom with slow steps, remus is in your kitchen now. he holds a coffee mug in his hand, you hear the sound of coffee machine. he extends a hand to you, long fingers covering your entire hand when you touch him.

"shelby left." remus says, pulling you closer to him. "i'm sorry again. i thought i'd surprised you."

you try to control your heartbeat enough to kiss your new boyfriend. it's only been two weeks but remus is a charming guy. he made his way into your heart quickly, you don't even know how to react to him most of the time. it's all too exciting- his every word and every touch.

"you don't have to say sorry." you say, lifting your chin. "i was surprised, so it worked."

remus leans down to close your height difference. "can i kiss you?"

you do something in between nodding and smiling. he presses his lips against yours and you close your eyes. you don't think you can manage to see his pretty face so close to yours right now. remus holds your waist to get you closer. you sigh happily into the kiss.

"you look so beautiful by the way." he whispers between two lovely kisses. "when you try to keep sleeping, when you frown against the pillow."

"please." you whisper. he should stop if he wants you alive in his arms.

remus kisses you so sweetly, you think you really need a cup of coffee to get back to yourself. his now free hand cups your cheek to rub the sensitive skin, the other hand still on your waist. you bring your hands to his neck, realizing he enjoys the kiss as much as you do. he is warm, your fingertips rest against his skin.

you have to stop for a minute or you'll lose your mind. can you get addicted to kissing someone? his lips are testing your patience early in the morning, his hands are whole another issue. remus smiles when you break the kiss, he brushes his lips against your forehead to keep you in his arms.

totally buried in remus's chest, you stand in the center of your kitchen. the smell of coffee is tempting but you can't separate yourself from remus. stolen seconds of the morning with him, is it possible to spend every early hours of your days like this now? your poor heart will not take it.

"what do you wanna have for breakfast?" he asks with a low voice.

"coffee." you say against his chest, lifting your head up to see him.

he laughs. "coffee's not a breakfast, sweetheart. tell me something with actual food."

you nuzzle closer to his chest. "avocado toast? and i got blueberries from the store yesterday."

"perfect." he says. "can i make your toast for you?"

"do you want to?" you ask with a stupid smile on your face. god, you're falling in love.

"of course i want to." he says. "okay, breakfast game, you'll sit on the counter and tell me where everything is as i prepare our toasts."

he lifts you quickly, you can see his eyes properly now that you're almost the same height.

you part your legs instinctively, your eyes on the ground. remus stays right there, standing in front of you with your thighs under his big hands. you want to kiss him like this so badly. you wish you can ask him without getting shy but it feels impossible for now.

"what's that?" he asks, his head following every move of yours. "what's with the pout, angel girl?"

are you pouting? you don't realize. you wanna kiss him.

"kiss?" you whisper. remus smiles. you blush. he kisses you, his lips move against yours delicately. his morning kisses are perfect, there's no rush, they are simply slow and passionate. he rubs the soft flesh of your thighs, you follow his lead on kisses.

he breaks the kiss this time. "we gotta eat something or else i'm gonna faint."

you kiss him for one more second. "it's okay, i'll take care of you."

"yeah?" he asks against your lips. "such a tempting little thing you are, and it's only 9 am."

your cheeks heaten up again but it's nothing unusual now. remus looks at you with barely open eyes, you swallow. he takes a step back, taking the mug he had in his hand earlier.

"coffee?" he asks, like he hasn't played with your heartbeat seconds ago. you manage to nod.

[entitled-fangirl]

It's like heaven.

Felix Catton x reader

SMUT

Summary: Felix can't keep his hands off his angel at the party. Smut later in the story.

Words: 1,676

Warnings: p in v, cursing, Oliver being a perv

Author's note: This is from an ask! Y'all are so creative, I love it!!!

Masterlist

18+ please!

.......................................................................

He was utterly speechless.

When he saw her, he was speechless.

She had wanted to surprise him, of course, shooing him from their bedroom when he was finished getting ready for the party so she could get dolled up.

Now, here she stood in a somewhat scandalous piece feeling beautiful, a halo placed on her head for the theme.

He simply stood in the doorway, his jaw dropped.

She saw him in the mirror, whipping around, "Felix! I said to wait until I was done!"

He shook out of his stupor, moving towards her with a smirk, "I forgot my angel wings but JESUS am I glad I came back." He placed his hands on her waist, "I mean, look at you, pretty girl…" His eyes held a look of admiration and lust. 

She stepped back with a giggle, "Not yet. I'm not done. Shoo, Lex…" She then turned around, moving back to finish her eyeliner in the mirror.

He pulled her towards him again, her back hitting his firm abs. His lips began to trace her neck as he looked at her in the mirror, mumbling, "…what is there left to finish, angel?"

She stood when she was satisfied with the eyeliner, turning around in his arms. "…just my shoes. And… I'm no angel."

He smirked leaning down to give a kiss, his voice a slight growl, "you're my angel."

The kiss was sweet and held a lot of emotion, considering how it was soon going to become something more. She pulled away, placing a hand on his chest, "…Lex."

He pulls away with a groan, "Forget the party, beautiful."

She laughs, "No! I got ready for this, Lex. Even if you don't like the birthday boy, we still have to go!"

He would always give in to her. 

He smiles, leaning in towards her again, hands beginning to wander before she stopped him, "What's going on with you tonight?"

"You're just so fucking pretty. My pretty angel. Can't keep my hands to myself."

She reaches down, taking her hand in his before she pulled him out of the bedroom and towards the party.

…

She was sat on Felix's lap when Oliver opened the door.

Felix was sitting on the small table of the overly-crowded bathroom, the pretty angel balanced on one of his thighs. He sighed when he saw Oliver.

"Felix, can I talk to you for one second?"

She looked at Felix to gauge his reaction, seeing that his eyebrows was slightly raised. He then ignores Oliver's question all together, lighting a cigarette, his other hand on his girl's thigh.

Oliver cleared his throat, "You can't ignore me forever."

He immediately rebutted, "I can try."

"Felix, we need to talk." When Felix didn't move, Oliver became insistent, "Felix, come on!"

He sighed, reaching up to place the cigarette between his angel's lips. She gladly accepts, "Look, man, I tried to be nice, but can you fuck off and bother somebody else?"

The others in the room chuckled at the interaction as they did lines off the table and floor.

Oliver stood in the doorway for a while in thought, his eyes now falling to the angel on Felix's lap. He observed her. Watched her watching him. He then turned, leaving the bathroom.

"Who was that?" Someone asked.

…

"C'mon, Lex. I wanna dance!"

She pulled him through the crowd by his hand, his wings getting hit as he passed by people, muttering quick apologies. 

"Yes, angel, yes. I'll dance with you. Anything to get you close to me."

The music was blaring, the lights overstimulating, but they didn't care. They were two college kids in love, and nothing would stop them.

He pulled her to him, their bodies pressed close together as they began to dance. 

A frown suddenly pulled to her face.

He leaned down, trying to whisper but having to yell to communicated, "Angel? Are you alright?"

She nods, her eyes staring at something in the distance. 

He turned, following her gaze.

Oliver sat at the sidelines, hoarding a bottle all to him, drinking his problem away.

But it wasn't working.

Because he wouldn't quit looking at them.

And now they noticed.

Felix frowned as well, leaning down to her once more, his eyes not leaving Oliver's, "Fuck him. Don't let him ruin this for us."

She turned back to look at him, "I don't know…"

He laughed, "You got all pretty for me, angel! Let me enjoy it for the night, yeah? No need to worry about what's tomorrow's problem!"

She nodded, letting him pull her back to him.

As his hands began to wander, so were his thoughts. 

God, she was pretty. He was blessed by the gods above for sending an angel so pure and kind as this one. His own little pretty girl. His pretty angel.

A song ended, and Felix reached down, grabbing her hand. He started to pull her away, and she wouldn't resist.

…

They walked out towards the maze, holding hands. They exchanged giggles as the alcohol kicked in. 

When they neared the entrance, she stopped, "Do you know what you're doing, Lex?"

He nodded, "'Course, angel. Wouldn't take you here if I didn't." He kissed her head, pulling her once again.

They both entered the maze, happy and in love.

What they didn't know, was that Oliver had entered too.

…

What felt like hours later, and too many turns to count, the two lovers were now in a passionate kiss, their hands wandering over each others bodies. 

He pulled away just enough to speak, "…you want me, angel?"

She nodded, "please…"

He pulled away completely, holding her jaw in his hand, a grin on his face, "I need to hear you say it."

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her voice soft, "I want you, Felix. Please."

That was all he needed.

They began to pull at each other's clothes, anything that would separate the two from each other. 

She reached up to pull off her halo, but his hand grabbed her wrist, "Don't."

She smiled into the kiss, pulling at his tank top.

Now, maybe half dressed, Felix pulled her up on to the base of the statue, holding her in place. Their kiss never broke as he began to move his fingers further down her body.

Her mouth opened slightly in an intake of breath as his gently pressed a finger into her core.

He smiled, his voice soft, "You can take it, angel. Feels good, yeah?"

She could only let out a whimper as he began to gently pump it in and out of her.

He whispered in her ear the entire time, his voice slightly gravely with lust, "Good… doing so good… stretching you out for me, baby… sweet girl…"

When two fingers were added, she pushed her head into his shoulder to avoid making too much noise.

He found it all amusing, watching her eyes close in concentration as her throat made small noises in pleasure.

When she was finally considered ready by his standards, he gently pulled his cock out. It was already hard at this point. It had been almost the entire night after seeing her in the outfit. 

He grabbed at her jaw again, "You're very sure, angel?"

She was a begging mess, her mind already mush, "please, Lex. Make me feel good, please…"

He smiled, "Anything for my angel."

He gently pushed his cock into her, both letting out a small hiss. 

She grabbed his biceps tightly, her eyes strunched a bit, trying to relax herself. 

His hand were on the bottom of her thighs, giving himself leverage, "… doing so good for me…"

He stopped when he bottomed out, giving her a moment to collect herself and adjust. He used this moment to kiss her neck softly, "God, being in you is like heaven."

And he began to thrust.

She let out small, soft little grunts and moans, her hands moving over his body in search of where to find relief. One hand eventually found his hair, pulling slightly as he let out a small, "oh, fuck."

Only the sound of skin pressed against one another was heard throughout the heart of the maze. 

"You're my angel… such a pretty little angel, aren't you?"

She whimpered, his cock hitting her g spot just right. 

"You're gonna cum for me, aren't you… ugh… good girl… cum for me…"

Her voice was barely heard, "…Lex…."

He grinned, his lips still kissing at her neck, "C'mon, pretty girl. You can give me one-"

Oliver's voice came from the bushes where they entered, "Felix…"

Felix stopped, staring at his sweet little angel, whose eyes were wide with fear. He sighed, "Oh, Jesus Christ!" He pulled his pants back to their original position, zipping them up. He turned around, covering her body with himself, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"I need to talk to you?"

She placed a hand on Felix's back, her head peering over his shoulder, "Were you spying on us?"

"No, I wasn't." He began to walk forward. 

Felix stood a bit taller, continuing to block Oliver's view. "Mate, let the fucking lady get dressed. You sick fuck."

Oliver held his hands up, turning himself around. 

Felix quickly turned, helping his angel get redressed. 

Once done, he pulled her to him, gently kissing the top of her head. He leaned towards her, whispering in her ear once more, "…go to the bedroom. I'll be there."

She nodded, her eyes filled slightly with tears. She walked forward, going to move past Oliver.

Oliver reached out a grabbed her wrist. He pulled her to him, "May want to fix that." He straightened the halo on her head, watching her nervous reaction, "Wouldn't want people to think you're naughty, do you?"

Felix stepped forward, his voice dark and threatening, "Oliver…"

Oliver let go of the girl, a slight smirk on his face. 

She left the maze to go to the bedroom, having no idea Felix would never see his angel again. 

........................................................

[deathbxnny]

hey i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to seeing their partner looking really good dressed up?? also i love ur writing!!

Arcane characters reacting to their s/o dressed up really pretty. | Vi, Ekko, Jinx x Gn!Reader

Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you'll enjoy this!!<3

Content: Established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VI

"Ooh... where are we going?" A wide grin rested on her lips as she watched you put on your fancy shoes and straighten out the last details of your pretty attire. "I'm going out with a couple friends." In other words, she was not invited. But Vi couldn't hear you over the sound of her mind spinning with many different thoughts.

Humming, she leaned against a wall next to you, intensely dark eyes staring you down with a glint that made you shake your head in defiance. "No." "Oh come on, Cupcake! Do you really have to go out today? I mean... I can go along. It's dangerous around this time of the night and-" "-Viiii. I can take care of myself." She pouted at your clear disagreement, hardly attempting to even hide how much she loved the way you looked.

"Aw... please? At least let me tag alone so I can show you off to everyone." Typical. And yet, you had a hard time denying her anything when her hands suddenly sneaked around your waist so smoothly. She always got what she wanted out of you in the end. Not that you necessarily minded.

"Fineeee... but keep your hands to yourself around them." You huff out whilst your heart warmed a t the sight of pure excitement on her face. But the slyness in her smirk didn't leave as she gratefully kissed your cheek and let go. "Can't promise you that when you're looking so good, unfortunately... but I'll try. For now."

Rolling your eyes with a smile, you let her happily run off to get ready, glad that she enjoyed your outfit a lot.

》EKKO

He was stunned at the sight of you emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed up so beautifully it left him speechless. The Firelights were having a huge festival in celebration of a recent successful mission, and of course, you were both expected to look your best. And you weren't the type to ever disappoint either.

It was rare to see you dressed up so nicely, the cute outfit being one he had only seen a small couple of times before due to your line of work and life circumstances. But in his mind, you looking so good was a sign of success. He wanted you to be able to dress that way every day, perhaps another motivation of his to continue going.

"How do I look?" You ask, the nervous tone in your voice making his eyes soften even further. "You look great. Who are you trying to impress, hm?" His words were playful as he grabbed your waist carefully. Ekko mirrored the shy smile that crept onto your lips at his question. "A certain someone. I don't think you know him, though." You played along, watching as he raised a brow with an unimpressed smirk.

"Hm... maybe we shouldn't go out then-" "-Oi! Why are you guys taking so long? Let's get going." Scar's voice made you both jump, as he appeared in the doorway and waved you over. A sly smirk crept onto your face as you quickly followed after the man. "Ah, there he is! See ya around, Ekko!" "Hey! I'll remember this-!" Running after you two, he couldn't help but laugh a little.

The festival was going to be great, to say the least.

》JINX

You were just trying out some new clothes you had gotten. Nothing special and definitely not for anyone else's eyes, except for hers. Once you were done, you were quick to hunt down your girlfriend to show her your outfit. "Jinx! How do I look?" You asked, a happy smile on your lips as you now stood next to her, whilst she tinkered away on some projects. Removing her googles, she glanced up at you and blinked in surprise, near speechless for a moment.

Nervously shifting under her intense gaze, you wondered if she didn't like it. "Uhm... should I go change or-" "-You look really good..." She muttered thoughtfully before a large grin crept onto her lips mischievously. "A bit too good! Makes me nearly jealous, pretty. How about you dress me up too so we can match?" You should have honestly seen this coming, as she enjoys doing cute things like that with you.

And so, you did as she asked, whilst she painted your nails to match her own. By the end of it, you looked like you were headed to a fancy event, something she found greatly amusing. Kicking a nearby radio to make it play music, she held out her hand to you with a bright smile. "Alright, let's get this party started!"

[lowkeyremi]

WHAT ARE THEIR BEIGE FLAGS? (HCS)

pairing: eren, armin, jean, connie, reiner, bertholdt, levi, erwin, hange, mikasa, sasha, pieck, and annie x fem!reader (separate) summary: things they do that are unusual within your relationship ! content: fluff, little bit of swearing, established relationships (marriage implied for a few), nothing too crazy today just wholesome :3 not proofread! this is all just a silly little thing I thought up, it's not meant to be taken seriously wc: 1.3k

🡆 𝐄. 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑

Eren's beige flag is that when he controls the music in the car he skips at least twenty songs on his playlist before he settles on a song, then one minute into the song he'll skip again.

"Do you want me to play something, 'ren?" You're trying not to laugh at him. He's got a cute little pout on his face.

"Yes please.. I don't wanna crash cuz I can't pick a song."

🡆 𝐀. 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐑𝐓

His beige flag is that whenever he sees a cute stuffed animal he just HAS to buy it. The thing is- he doesn't have enough space for another one. Whenever someone comes over and opens the wrong door a mountain of stuffed animals fall out of the closet.

"Um. [name], are these yours?" Mikasa asks while glancing at the stuffed animals.

"No, those are Armin's." You don't even look up from your phone, which lets Mikasa know this has been going on for some time.

🡆 𝐉. 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍

Jean's beige flag is that he believes microwave food is "making dinner." He'll be like,

"babe I cooked us dinner!! :D"

and on your way to the table you see two microwave spaghetti boxes in the garbage. You don't have the heart to tell him that's not cooking.

"Wow baby, that looks delicious!"

🡆 𝐂. 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

His beige flag is that he removes the little "crust" part of a pop tart and only eats the part with the icing on it. It's just dry and bland so why eat it? (I do this 😝)

"Hey do any of you want the rest of my pop tart?" You anticipate how weirded out his friends will be when they see what part of the pop tart he's talking about.

"Yeah, let me get the rest." Jean says not paying too much attention. Connie hands him a napkin with the crumbling end pieces.

"Dude what the hell... I thought you meant like a half or something!"

🡆 𝐑. 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐍

Reiner is too cute. His beige flag is that whenever someone good looking appears on tv or social media he covers his eyes. He doesn't want you to think those women will change his opinion of you and how you look.

"Reiner, baby, you're allowed to look at attractive people and think they look hot. I think people are hot all the time."

"I know but- wait what?"

"You're my number one man obviously but I can't deny when someone is good looking. You don't have to either, because I trust you." He huffs quietly, all this time he had been covering his eyes while you admire other men?

"Wait so you call them hot, but you wouldn't leave me for them, right?" Now's he starting to feel a little insecure.

"Baby, I wouldn't leave you if someone paid me a million dollars."

🡆 𝐁. 𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑

His beige flag is that he physically makes a "gulp" sound whenever he's scared or nervous.

"You're gonna do great on that speech today, babe. I believe in you!" Usually your attempts to comfort Bertholdt work but you can tell it's getting to him when he goes,

"Gulp."

"You did it again."

"It's a force of habit, my love." He says scrubbing his face whilst you giggle at him.

🡆 𝐋. 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

His beige flag is that he's never embarrassed when someone walks in on him or he walks in on someone else. It's his body so why should he care? He thinks people make a big deal out of that for no reason.

When you're in the shower he'll open the door to come use the bathroom or do something else.

"Levi! You scared me." He watches you in the mirror out of the corner of his eye. He has to stop himself from rolling them when you try to cover up your body with your arms.

"Why are you so on edge? I've seen you naked plenty of times, darling."

🡆 𝐄. 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

His beige flag is he says old outdated phrases on purpose. You're hanging out with him in the living room and he's on the phone with Levi.

You don't care too much about what your husband is saying until he says, "Yeah don't worry about it, Levi. I'll be down there in a jiffy."

"Really, Honey? Jiffy? 😭"

🡆 𝐙. 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄

Their beige flag is that they can't remember your family members' names to save their life. They've just got a lot going on so when you go to your family gatherings they're like,

"Oh- you're- uh... I know it, give me a second!" Hange closes their eyes to think for a second.

"You're Caroline!" Hange is so confident they're right.

Your little cousin looks at you, then back at your partner, "My name is Lexi..."

"I was close!" Hange says with a bold smile.

🡆 𝐌. 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍

Ever since her old scarf started to tatter her beige flag has been knitting little abstract figures. She'll knit these goofy little monster guys and sew buttons on them for eyes. They're so cute so you don't mind. You have like five that she's made for you.

"Hey pretty girl, I got distracted and made another." Mikasa says with a little groan.

"It's okay, Mika. They're really cute!" She lets out a sigh of relief.

🡆 𝐒. 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐒

Her beige flag is that she unironically eats with a bib. She argues it's one of those "adult bibs" thinking that it makes it sound better. She just doesn't want to get her clothes dirty and when Sasha eats she eats, which explains how she would even get that messy.

"Hey babe can you get my bib before you sit down."

...

She never fails to catch you off guard. When you hand it to her she gives you a kiss on the check, "You're the best girlfriend I could have ever asked for. Thank you for dinner."

"Of course, sweet girl."

🡆 𝐏. 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑

I love my girl Pieck but I know for a fact her beige flag is that she puts on chapstick just to lick it off.

"Damn my lips are really dry, you got any chapstick on you, baby?" The two of you are going out for dinner so of course she wants to look her best.

"Are you gonna eat it, like always?"

She rolls her eyes, "I do not eat it."

Now it's your turn to roll your eyes, but since you love your girlfriend you give her your strawberry chapstick which she uses a generous amount of.

Not even two minutes later you spot her licking her lips.

"YOU DO EAT IT, LIAR!!!!"

🡆 𝐀. 𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓

Annie's beige flag is that she'll repurpose absolutely anything. Nothing you want to throw away actually makes it to the trash can when she's around.

While you were folding up your clothes you found one of your old socks with a hole in it, so you believe it's that sock's time to go.

When you get up to throw it away you hear your girlfriend call out, "Don't throw that away. I can make it into a toy for Churro."

Churro is your crazy orange cat the two of you took in.

"Annie, Churro has like a million toys. I think he'll be okay without my sock."

"Come on, don't throw it away. I saw this video, and now I wanna try to make the cool cat toy!" You can't deny Annie when she's this cute so you give in. (she always says she's not cute but you beg to differ)

"Fine, here." You throw the sock to her and she makes a perfect catch.

©𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

[prettygiri222]

Wax

Summary: You tell your boyfriend you got waxed by a man…

Eren x Black Fem Reader SMUT

"Eren!" you called out as you entered his room. he looked up at you with his low red eyes making your heart skip a beat. you were already regretting your decision but you were going to power through. you gave him a little twirl, "notice anything different?"

you saw a trend on TikTok where girls would tell their boyfriends they got a wax done and you wanted to try it. you hesitated knowing Eren he could flip but your friends convinced you to do it.

Eren's eyes trailed over your body stopping at your ass that hung out of your miniskirt. "that ass getting fatter ma? shittt i've been feeding you good." he said as he licked his lips before making eye contact.

you turned around to look at it in the mirror. "i've been hitting the gym with Mikasa and Annie. i ain't even noticed the gains."

"cmere lemme touch it." Eren took a hit off his blunt motioning for you to come sit on his lap. if you didn't actually get a wax today you would've sat on something else. but it was now or never.

you walked over to Eren not missing the way his eyes watched as you purposely swayed your hips. "no, I got waxed." you said placing your foot on his lap.

"you’re so smooth." Eren started rubbing all up on your leg. "everywhere?" he asked as he trailed his hand up higher looking you in the eye.

"baby oil and cocoa butter, love." you said before giving him a nod. a smile graced Eren's lips as he pulled you down so you were straddling him.

"we can't do anything for at least 24 hrs…" you whined out onto his shoulder. "but that's not the point." you said as you shot up. you moved to the bed to create some space between you two, Eren rolled his eyes.

he picked up his phone but signaled to you that he was still listening.

"so I went to get a brazilian today and my regular lady wasn't there so they gave me someone else and honestly, i like them a bit more. they were getting all in there, like really in there and it didn't hurt as much. plus the guy was so ni-" Eren's head shot up.

"hold on ma, did you just say a 'guy?'" he put down his phone and looked into your wide eyes with his red ones. 

"y-yea he did a great job…" the wall behind Eren suddenly became very interesting to look at.

"nah, i don't think i'm hearing you right." Eren sat up in his chair with his jaw clenched. "a man waxed you?”

"yes."

"you let a man touch you down there? see you naked."

"it's his job Eren."

"nah you pissing me off right now ma. you let another man touch your pussy and you telling me you're fine with it?" eren moved so he could look deep into your eyes causing you to flinch. you could see his anger building up and it frightened you. 

he was always so quick to anger, especially around Jean, you can't say how many times they got physical. but he's never yelled at you much less put his hands on you but you didn't know what he would do now. he was unsettlingly quiet. you only nodded afraid you would get on your knees and beg him for forgiveness but a small part of you wanted to push him even further.

Eren surprised you as he started laughing, he rubbed his tattooed hand all over his face looking at you through his fingers. "you expect me to believe you let a man wax when you still get so shy when I say 'pussy'."

you looked away from him, if your skin was any lighter he would've been able to see you blush. "well he said I had the prettiest 'pussy' he ever saw. gave me his number to hit him up if my boyfriend didn't satisfy me enough." you were shy but you weren’t a pushover.

Eren took a big hit off his blunt before blowing the smoke in your face."ass up, face down ma." you quickly regretted your words.

"Eren wait-"

“ass up. face down. now!" Eren's never talked to you like that, he was always so sweet and nice to you. but right now he was so demanding, it was kinda hot. 

you quickly moved to position, making sure your back had a nice arch in it before looking back at Eren with a pout. "Eren we can't…"

"mmhm." he mumbled ignoring your eyes. he pushed up your skirt and delivered a slap to your clothed heat.

"Eren!" you cried out in shock, you shoved your face into the sheets in embarrassment. you've never done this before. you and Eren were vanilla so far because you were a virgin up till a few weeks ago. this was something new and you kinda liked it.

"head up ma, you had a lot to say right? said you'd fuck your waxer cause i wasn't good enough?" he said grabbing your butterfly locs. they were about a week old so they weren't as tight but his grip still hurt. but you were coming to understand that you liked a little bit of pain. "lemme hear it."

eren planted a firm slap against your ass. "ah! It hurts!” Eren gave you another hard slap causing you to jerk forward. you heard him kiss his teeth before you were pulled down to the end of the bed.

“this not gon work.” he said as he maneuvered you so you were bent over his lap. “you keep lying to me, ‘s like you trying to get me mad on purpose ma. you like it when I’m angry?” Eren asked as he delivered another slap to your bare ass. your dark skin was starting to bruise.

how’d he know? you weren’t that bad of a liar. “i was the one who set up and paid for your appointments ma, they would’ve told me if there was a change.” oh, right. you brought your hands to cover your face in embarrassment. 

“m sorry” you whispered.

“if you really got waxed by a man, i can’t tell you what would’ve happened.” Eren let out a bitter laugh looking at his dresser. it brought your attention to the gun Eren kept tucked in his pants when he went out. he always placed it in his top draw when he came home not wanting you to see it but you knew about it. it made you shiver thinking about him using it on someone. “but don’t worry you’ll be sorry. count to 10.”

“10 wha- ow!” Eren raised his hand high and brought it down on your ass making you jump. you reached back to grab his hand but he just slapped it away

“you run, lose count or complain and you start over from one.” he spanked you again watching as your ass rippled. you let out whine, you weren’t used to Eren being so mean to you but you were soaked. each slap sent a new wave of tingles to your core. 

“how many are we at now baby?” Eren asked in that sweet voice he always spoke to you in. 

“9.” you sobbed out. you don’t even know when you started crying and whether it was from the pain or the neglect of your core.

“think you can take one more?” despite being so mad at you it made your heart swell at how nice he was still being. he messaged your ass while waiting for the answer.

“yea…” he delivered one more slap but he directed it toward your clothed heat, fingers coming in contact with your clit, “ohhh fuckkk!” your body started to convulse as you felt pure bliss.

“fuck ma… did you just come from me spanking you?” Eren breathlessly asked as he placed you beside him, you winced at the contact. you nodded as you hid your face in his shoulder. “that’s my good girl.”

[justporo]

Astarion sees you're almost falling asleep and will drag you to bed now!

I would need this on like a daily basis. And I guess so do many of you - so let the vampire drag you to bed and GO! GET! SOME! SLEEP!

It was so late it could have been called early. Outside you could already hear the birds chirping, cheerfully greeting a new day. Which meant that it was more than high time to crawl into bed. And doubly so because you lived with a vampire who fared even worse with sunlight than you.

But you were still crouched over your desk and the papers there.

Your eyes were tired. You barely saw what you were working on anymore. And you knew you could get this done when you were fully rested and it would only take a matter of minutes. But you were so desperate to finish this.

Unfortunately, you had a tendency to be very determined (someone else usually called it stubborn but you always pretended you had gone deaf all of a sudden when that happened). But this tendency had brought you this far and probably saved your life more than once. And you wouldn't be bested by this piece of work!

But your head was slowly falling, your eyelids growing as heavy as lead.

And you only jumped back up when you heard that certain someone enter the room, being purposefully noisy to make you aware of it. You were grateful for that because if the vampire had snuck up on you, like he was fully capable of, it might have not ended well with you being this exhausted.

“Slacking off on the job, are we?” you heard his familiar teasing voice as he came closer. You felt his presence as he leaned on the table around you - basically caging you with his arms, sleeves rolled up to his elbows as usual. His lips were awfully close to your ear and the hairs on your neck stood on end as you didn't dare rip your eyes from your work.

“Don't you think this can wait, love?” he whispered now directly into your ear causing a hot and cold shiver to run down your spine.

But with this he had pushed the wrong button. Almost involuntarily you felt one of your eyebrows rise up and your lips forming a pout: “No, Astarion, I don't think it can wait.”

You turned your head around to face him and saw him smirk, making you even more annoyed at him. He leaned in closer, causing his chest to brush against your head now, his hands moved to cover yours.

“Do you really think a stack of papers can't wait more than your caring lover craving your calming touch?” he murmured with a pout that mirrored yours while his deft fingers freed your writing quill out of your angrily clenching fingers. You couldn't resist him long. His hands were used to open up more difficult things than your desperate grip on your writing utensils. Also his absolutely instrumentalized big red eyes he looked at you with were absolutely working their usual enchanting magic on you.

Not enough though for you to not make a snide remark about what was happening.

“Well, for starters the stack of papers doesn't talk back.”

“You think I'm funny, my love.”

“It also isn't as full of itself.”

A mockingly offended gasp while Astarion’s hands moved the papers out of your reach.

“My heart, you hurt me.”

“Ah see, it also doesn't guilt trip me.”

The vampire's hands wandered up over your arms to your shoulders. “I can't do right by you tonight, can I?”

“You could just let me keep working on my thing.”

A dramatic sigh and Astarion let his head fall forward and onto your shoulder. Then he let go of you and took a step back.

“Do you really want to keep working, dear?” he sounded sincere now and you suddenly felt true guilt as you looked at him. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes still awfully wide and shining.

But the urge to not keep business unfinished still had you in its claws.

After a few heartbeats you opened your lips to answer, but-

“Too bad, you're coming with me now, my love.” Astarion exclaimed and with rogue quickness grabbed your chair by the armrests to drag it away from the desk and turn it around to him. “You need your beauty sleep, I can't be seen walking around with a walking corpse!”

You squealed when you felt your body get yanked around so quickly while your tired brain was almost incapable of catching up. Thus you were almost confused when you had ended up on Astarion’s shoulder a moment later.

There was no energy left in your body to resist this infuriating man any longer so you just played the part of dead weight draped over his shoulder - since he had already coined you as such - and couldn't stop yourself from giggling.

“See, darling, I told you: you think I’m funny.”

“It's just sleep deprivation talking.”

“Ah, so you agree with that too.”

You resisted to answer him with something he would only twist around again to fit his agenda. Instead you just slapped his butt you had quite the delectable view of at the moment.

Astarion hissed and just slapped your behind in return. You only giggled more.

“I should have left you at your godsdamned desk, let you fall asleep right there to drool on the papers,” he murmured under his breath and ended it with something about how ungrateful you were while he threw open the bedroom door; your favourite drama queen.

Then he made quick work to get you off his shoulders with an exaggerated groan which you were sure wasn't fully acted.

As soon as your body hit your soft bed the last of your energy decided to evaporate into the aether. You were almost falling over if not for the vampire's quick reflexes catching your wrists.

With quick fingers and more snarky remarks you had no power to reply to anymore he undressed you to your underwear.

And with more overly dramatic groaning and a roll of his eyes since you provided absolutely no help did he turn you to lay down. He carefully placed your head on the pillows which you thanked him for with a dreamy sigh. Your eyes closed on your own. The blanket was thrown over you and more rustling told you that Astarion was quickly undressing as well.

When the mattress shifted under the vampire's weight as he got into bed next to you you barely even noticed it anymore.

With final efforts Astarion dragged you onto his chest. Your arms slung around him and your legs tangled with his automatically - you had done so hundreds if not thousands of times already.

“All this work just to get you where you belong,” Astarion whispered to you and clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he began rubbing lazy circles on your back. You only hummed contentedly as you felt your body relax fully into him and his touch.

Your last half-coherent thought as you drifted off to sleep was that, indeed, you had to agree with him on this one: you were right where you were supposed to be.

Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06