#and some of you need to reflect on why you think life is only worth living till mid 20s | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neiptune · 2 months ago

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this town is fake but you're the real thing

cw: 11k wc, female reader, social media relationship, suna downloads an app that randomly matches anonymous users with each other because osamu thinks it'll help him open up more, strangers to lovers, romance, pining, so much texting, suna is as emotionally constipated as it gets

Against all expectations, it’s Osamu who managed to get under his skin.

An innocent night out to celebrate the new Onigiri Miya branch in Shizuoka, a few beers shared on a bench by the port, what started as innocent conversation about each other’s dating life soon turning into a painfully precise evaluation of why he can’t seem to find someone worth keeping around.

“You don’t really open up to them”, his friend shrugged.

“I open up to them plenty. I’ve been with Yuki for three months”, Suna refuted such harsh remark with a scowl.

“Yeah”, Samu mused, “have you ever shared anything about your friends and family? What’s the most vulnerable thought or feeling you discussed?”.

Rintaro took a moment to reflect, begrudging silence weighing more each second spent quiet.

“She met Motoya”.

Osamu rolled his eyes, “Shit, you’re right— can’t believe ya didn’t propose. Meeting Komori’s the real deal”.

“You know, if I wanted to hang out with the twin who’d be a pain in my ass, I would’ve called your brother”.

With a snort and a handsome grin, Osamu lightly bumped his shoulder against Suna’s. “Ya love us”, then his gaze softened as he took a swig from the bottle, “I’m just sayin’. Maybe a relationship is not what you need right now”.

“Then what do I need?”, despite a fiery remonstrance, Rintaro found himself leaning onto Osamu’s judgement. He’d always been very good at reading people, much like his brother, but Samu’s approach was always balanced and, most importantly, sincere. Perhaps he was right. Perhaps there was something he’s missing about himself, something that shined bright for his best friend to catch instead.

“A connection, dumbass”, Osamu lightly pat his shoulder, “it doesn’t have to be romantic. It definitely doesn’t have to be sexual. You need to find someone you can talk to”.

“I talk—”

“Someone who isn’t us. Not me, not ‘Tsumu”, he ignored Rintaro’s indignant scoff, “not Shinsuke, not Aran. You need to get out of your comfort zone with someone new. A stranger!”.

“A stranger? You want me to stop someone on the street and casually ask them to listen to whatever trauma is tied to my fear of flying?”.

“Start small”, Osamu’s eyes glinted with the excitement that a good idea usually brings, “try that app Bokuto was trying so hard to get Sakusa to download. Matchpal, was it?”.

“Sounds like a great way to have a fifty year old creep flash me with a dick pic. No, thank you”.

“I’d think about it. Ya know, we’re not getting any younger. Like ‘Tsumu said, you—”

“I should hurry up before I grow old with only my emotional unavailability to keep me company, I remember”, Rintaro finished his beer with a grimace. Osamu chuckled, eventually dropped the topic, but the suggestion remained unpleasantly hanging over his head both like a succulent fruit and a risky presage.

So now he’s slumped in the living room of the spacious apartment the EJP provides, a quiet Friday evening spent cooking some stew for dinner and facetiming his family. The tv is on as a distraction and an easy way out should things get uncomfortable. Surely Dwight will keep him grounded.

Suna’s already downloaded the app but it takes one episode and a half to muster the courage to actually tap on it.

The interface is pretty easy to navigate. It seems he’s supposed to create a minimalist profile first and then he’d be free to start a new, random chat. Users can opt out anytime or, if they wish to keep a specific person as their anonymous match, add them as a friend and pin the conversation within their personal directory. Nothing too complicated.

Suna’s patience wears thin easily and after a few attempts at picking unavailable usernames, he settles for crysnoopy. Finally, original enough at last.

Since not revealing one’s identity seems to be the point of the entire thing, he can’t upload a profile picture and instead has to select one random avatar from the default library. He picks a cartoon frog with big eyes and no mouth on a light green background.

There he is, an anonymous online presence on a stupid app. His profile only contains a nickname, he/him pronouns, age and a cute icon. No interests listed, no boundaries, not a single space where he could leave a polite note— please don’t send unsolicited dick pics. Not that he ever plans on requesting one.

Suna starts a few new chats, faceless identities either ending the conversation right away upon his dry and unoriginal hey or being as odd as one would imagine strangers in an anonymous community could be.

Lavenderhaze

-> Hi.

Lavenderhaze

-> How are you?

He sinks deeper into the nice couch pillows Atsumu forced him to get.

crysnoopy

-> hey. all good, wbu?

Lavenderhaze

-> Good, bored.

Lavenderhaze

-> Should we exchange nudes or something?

Rintaro sighs. Hesitation is laced into the delay of his thumb but eventually he taps the skip option, Osamu’s ominous words still ringing loud and clear in his head. It’s not what he downloaded the dumb app for, it’s not what he needs right now. Fuck, maybe he really should’ve called Atsumu instead.

A new chat opens after a short loading time and his nose wrinkles when he realizes that he’ll probably have to send the first message this time. The username staring back at him is original enough to make Suna take a few seconds to think of something equally entertaining to say. The whole thing is never going to work if he doesn’t take it seriously and actually puts some effort in it, right?

He looks up from his phone for a second. Then, a loud ping makes him jump.

Unfinishedusernam

-> When you shower, do you actively wash your legs or just let soapy water rinse down on them?

Rintaro almost huffs out a laugh. Original username and approach? A good enough start to ignite the hope of finally be talking to someone sane.

crysnoopy

-> I don’t shower.

A beat passes, then the small animation of a hand idly scribbling with a pencil indicates that you’re typing something back.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s hot.

-> Why the username?

Suna’s lips twitch, not a smile but almost. He wants to type an equally sarcastic reply, brush the question off and maybe ask something more interesting instead. But then he remembers what he’s doing and forces an honest reply out of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> my little sister used to scream like an eagle when she cried, the one thing that always shut her up was a snoopy plush I won at the arcade.

Suna barely registers that his leg starts bouncing lightly as he watches the little hand appear on the screen once more.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m glad it’s something cute :)

-> Lowkey thought you were an incel

This time he really does snort out half a laugh.

crysnoopy

-> if I was I would’ve asked why your username is edging me.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fair. So… you do shower, right?

crysnoopy

-> I promise I do.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Damn, my incel detector has truly failed me.

-> You seem suspiciously normal btw, I feel like we could have a conversation that doesn't involve dicks

Suna’s hand blindly reaches for the remote to lower the volume of the show he currently doesn’t seem to need as additional emotional support.

crysnoopy

-> likewise. wanna make it official?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Jeez, at least buy me dinner first

Rintaro’s beat to it, before he can even click on the option there’s already a colorful notification popping up on his screen, informing that he has a new friend request.

He accepts it.

It took some convincing for Samu to agree but, eventually, the spot on the pull-out couch became his. Between Hyogo and Shizuoka, with imminent plans of further expanding in Tokyo, he’s always travelling to make sure the shops are keeping their top quality standard high. The Shizuoka branch is still too recent for him to retreat back to his hometown for good, so he’s there most of the time. Suna had to call him an idiot a million times before Osamu accepted his hospitality, never one to ask for anything, always first in line to help others instead. Suna thinks he still didn’t call him an idiot enough times.

They’re both gone most of the day anyway, between the restaurant and training. The season is about to start and the trip to Osaka feels more imminent than ever, Suna knows he has to be at the top of his game to perform exactly how he’s expected to. Which means, no distractions. He does a good job at avoiding those, dating apps left unopened and the way home now shorter than usual, to circumvent his favorite bakery. Those blueberry muffins will have to wait. Samu’s healthier alternative with gram oats and bananas is one hell of a substitute anyway.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. The house feels less empty when he’s around and there’s always a homemade meal tucked somewhere in the fridge. They share breakfast when they get up at the same time and night conversations at the kitchen table if Rintaro manages to stay awake late enough to wait for Osamu to be back.

But sometimes, being alone is easier. No explanations owed for the one distraction he seems unable to give up, no curious raise of the eyebrows he’d have to confront when the familiar ping from his phone prompts an immediate reaction the wrong twin would tease him endlessly for.

He’s always been a dry texter or so his friends, teammates and relatives have always told him. Suna didn’t ever think he was supposed to make an effort to become better at written communication, or communication in general. But now, there’s you. A faceless, perhaps not entirely sane someone who makes him check his notifications way too often, insides spasming when the message doesn’t come from one of his groupchats and the Matchpal icon flashes across the screen instead.

Suna likes talking to you, so much that he often finds himself being the one to text first. It’s okay if you’ll take hours to get back to him sometimes, he knows for certain that the message is eventually going to light up his screen and that’s enough to make him smile. Sometimes you text first, at either ungodly hours in the middle of the night or during the day, if you’re bored at work. He doesn’t know what your job is, you don’t know precisely what Suna does either because, again, anonymity. The only detail he’s familiar with is that you’re often around “wearing but rewarding humans”, as you’d once put it. The one thing you know about him is that he’s an athlete, something you had briefly teased him for.

When he’s not talking to you, when parts or even the entirety of days that used to belong to him and his routine alone are devoid of your messages, Suna finds himself thinking. Or rather, imagining. There’s a lot he doesn’t know and he refuses to overwhelm you with questions, therefore his mind desperately tries to fill in the gaps to no avail. Are you spending the evening reading a book, watching a tv show? Did you cook dinner or order takeout? How happy are you that it’s been raining for three days straight on a scale of ‘I can only function if it’s sunny and bright’ to ‘leave me in a storm and watch me flourish’ ?

Most times, Suna simply plugs the charging cable into is phone, switches off the bedside light and hopes to wake up to one of your texts. They seem to be making an increasingly dangerous difference between a good day and a bad one. He’s not entirely sure it’s ideal.

Unfinishedusernam

-> The humans are testing me today. Whatever you’re doing, I hope you’re having fun!

-> Ah, look what my mom baked yesterday. Told her I have a friend who’d love these :)

-> [IMG_65209]

Rintaro, elbows resting on his knees and towel haphazardly thrown around the neck, smiles at the screen. God, he hasn’t had a blueberry muffin in over a month, but what he’s really focusing on is that you’ve mentioned him. To your mom. There’s a low, static buzz in his ears now, punctuated by the thumps of his heart growing louder. It makes you feel more real, it also makes something simmer in his stomach.

crysnoopy

-> I’m at training.

-> They look really good. Send me one immediately. How was family dinner?

He’s enabled auto-capitalization for the first time in his life, for god’s sake. The Inarizaki groupchat was so disturbed Atsumu decided to apply the same additional authenticator method used by his online banking and forced Suna to reply to a secret question. One only the real Suna would know the answer to.

He successfully demonstrated the needed personal knowledge concerning the color of Aran’s lucky underwear in high school and thus confirmed his identity.

Unfinishedusernam

-> It was nice! I love spending time with them

-> How’s training?

Rintaro finds himself wanting to give his identity shape too. It’s the first time he’s seen your hand, holding that tupperware underneath the dim light of your mom’s kitchen. He wants to feel more real for you, too.

He snaps a picture of his hand holding a half-empty water bottle, careful to hide his shoes. Not that you’d be able to immediately tell he plays volleyball from those, but just in case. You do get to see part of his legs though, shorts and their very recognizable colors kept out of frame.

crysnoopy

-> [IMG_65209]

-> Almost done, very tired

He watches as the little hand scribbles, then stops. It resumes the writing, then stops once more. His leg is bouncing again, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He straight up jumps when, suddenly, someone loudly falls on the empty spot next to him and the bench creaks.

“We’re on a roll today, my blocks are almost as good as yours”, Washio grins, temples shining with sweat. He briefly glances down at the phone Suna almost drops when it vibrates against his palm.

“You okay?”.

“Yes”, Rintaro clears his throat, makes a show of shoving the phone right back into his bag, “you’re in shape today. Motoya too”.

“Ready for Osaka!”, Komori fist-bumps Tatsuki right before sitting next to him with an exaggerated groan, “hey, is your friend still in town? The Miya twin. We could go out tonight, get some drinks”.

“We literally leave in three days”, Suna’s fist lightly lands on his teammate’s head.

“Mocktails”, Motoya sticks his tongue out.

“I feel like I already see your faces enough. And I’m about to see them even more”.

“Rintaro don’t be a grumpy asshole, challenge once again failed”, Tatsuki rolls his eyes, “you’re always glued to that damn phone when you’re not playin’. Let’s go out, have fun, possibly get laid?”.

Suna sighs heavily. “Fine. I wanted to visit Samu’s new shop anyway, we can have dinner and take him with us afterwards”. He should get Osamu a gift, a nice plant or a maneki-neko. He’ll stop by a few shops on the way home, he decides.

“Now you’re talking!”, Washio smacks his shoulder with way too much energy, “let’s ask Nagito too, he’s gonna love some free onigiri!”.

“Hey, we’re payin’ for those”.

“Sure we are!”.

“I’m serious, you ass—”

“That’s enough gossiping, boys. Get back to work!”, by muscle memory, their legs react to coach’s boisterous voice and all three men jump up from their seats. Suna spends the rest of the late afternoon training thinking about the text message hidden in his gym bag.

It’s way past 6PM when training ends, the last half an hour was spent studying opponent videos and then simulating different match scenarios. Suna’s brain feels fried and on any other day he’d be so ready to get a massage, eat a well-balanced dinner and melt on his couch in front of a good tv show until his eyelids would grow heavy.

Instead, he takes the long way home, legs heavy as he explores different shops in search for the perfect gift. He settles for a very beautiful, handmade, porcelain maneki-neko, left paw raised instead of the right one because Suna knows Osamu will always care about having more customers who trust his restaurant rather than having more money.

The shop owner puts the gift in an elegant box and seals the bag with a delicate ribbon, he thanks the old lady with a deep bow and despite his limbs feeling heavy with fatigue, as he breathes in the cool air of the evening, Suna is content. He thinks of the message sitting pretty in his pocket as he heads home.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You have really nice hands

He didn’t open it, not yet. It’s reassuring to have the notification sitting there, untouched and polished against his lockscreen.

It shouldn’t matter that a stranger on an app is complimenting his hands, it really shouldn’t. Then why does it, somehow? Suna is happy you find his hands nice, which feels like a recipe for disaster. As he walks past his favorite bakery, he remembers you mentioning how you enjoy grabbing croissants for breakfast at times. When he told you that he was about to leave for a retreat with his team, after asking if their destination was one among Tokyo, Osaka and Yokohama, you proceeded to list all your favorite cafes, bakeries and restaurants for each of them. Just in case he had the time and wanted to check them out. As much as he tries to keep his distance, something as trivial as mentioning the correct city possibly resulting too risky, you always seem to go out of your way to reach closer. Taking the time to prepare three separate lists of suggestions while simultaneously respecting his boundaries is an effort he deems… unexpected. It feels weird in the best way. He almost wants to tell you it’s Osaka after all, give you something real, something new to hold on to. Maybe he’ll even tell you it’s volleyball.

“Coming home from another bad date?”, the unexpected quip startles Suna as he looks up from the sidewalk to find his not so friendly neighbor directing a saccharine smile at him, trash bags in hand. Not too long ago, he would’ve asked if she needed help with those.

“At least I still go on dates”, he purposefully eyes her attire, hoodie and sweatpants. Suna knows she’s just trying to annoy him, she can see the gym bag.

“With women who are blind, deaf, mute and desperate?”, she offers a sly smile and he rolls his eyes.

“That’s not a very flattering description of yourself, now”.

She huffs out a sarcastic laugh but Suna can see right through it: the irritation and the embarrassment.

“Always a pleasure running into you, Suna”.

“Likewise”, he smirks, “careful with those bags”.

Suna says goodbye with an unbothered wave of the hand despite her giving him the finger, positively happy that for a good while the chances of running into his neighbor will be reduced to zero. Osaka can’t come fast enough.

The thing is, he was surprised she lived so close when they first started chatting on a regular dating app. When Suna confirmed they were essentially in the same neighborhood, she was the one to propose a dinner right away.

Truthfully, it had been a bad day for him, for a number of reasons. Training was terrible, he was worried sick about his little sister’s sprained ankle, his own tendinitis was giving him hell and Atsumu had decided to call him to talk his ear off for an entire hour about the surprise party they were supposed to throw for Kita’s birthday. Yet, he didn’t feel like bailing on his date, so he forced himself out of the house with the worst mood.

Dinner was terrible. Awkward, tense, her growing increasingly impatient about his lack of responsiveness, him snapping at the tiniest, dumbest inputs. The entire night ended up being such a disaster she left halfway through her creamy salmon pasta, a few banknotes tucked underneath a glass of water, enough to pay half the bill. He remembers deflating in his seat, feeling terrible for five minutes, finishing his own dinner and then leaving as if nothing happened.

Suna thought about texting, maybe even apologizing, but he just never found it in himself to actually do it. It was just a bad date, bad dates happen. He’d never seen her before, or maybe simply didn’t pay enough attention to notice her presence, so there was no way he could’ve anticipated just how fucking often he’d run into her from that day onwards. She never failed to remind him of her resentment and, frankly, that ended up igniting his.

Of course Osamu’s leftovers are on his kitchen counter, neatly wrapped in tin foil. He remembers how hungry he’d feel after training, so when he knows Suna’s going to be busy until the late afternoon, he always makes sure to cook an extra portion.

Rintaro lets the gym bag fall onto the floor, right next to the couch he drops on with a groan. He’s already showered, he simply needs to change clothes and head out once more. When he checks the latest messages, his brows furrow in confusion.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still at training?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck, sorry, that was probably weird.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I really didn’t mean to sound like a creep

Suna really, actually smiles at his screen. You’re insecure about complimenting him, which is sweet. He should’ve complimented you first.

crysnoopy

-> Just got home

-> You didn’t sound like a creep, I like your hands too :)

His heartbeat picks up in pace when the hand starts scribbling shortly after, indicating that you’re online and were probably waiting for his reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Ugh, see? Now you feel like you’re forced to compliment me

crysnoopy

-> No I don’t?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Liar. Here, if you’re sincere, compliment these.

-> [IMG_98279]

A laugh bubbles from his throat when he opens the picture of your feet in a pair of fuzzy fox slippers.

crysnoopy

-> They’re beautiful. I’d kill to have an identical pair

-> So you have nice hands and cool slippers, good to know.

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re a flirt in your everyday life, aren’t you?

Once again, Suna hesitates. He is, clearly he is. In all likelihood, if he knew you in real life, he would be. You’re nice, intelligent, funny, someone he can easily see himself being interested in. But it’s not what he downloaded the app for, he shouldn’t wander in flirty territory, he really shouldn’t.

crysnoopy

-> Only if they own a pretty set of slippers

When has he ever been good at following judicious advice?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Knew it. Flirt.

-> Can I ask you something?

crysnoopy

-> Ask away

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why are you on this app?

He sighs. Flirty territory is easier than honesty territory. A quick glance at the clock on his kitchen wall instills a sense of urgency as he types a reply, as raw and sincere as it gets.

crysnoopy

-> I wanted to find out if I could open up to strangers more than I do with people I actually know

He really fucking hopes Osamu is proud. Let it be known that he’s trying.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Do you think you could open up to me?

Suna exhales from his nose. This is definitely not the type of conversation he wanted to have while on a rush.

crysnoopy

-> Maybe

-> I’d like that.

He waits for a few seconds, chat gone silent. Maybe you logged off, maybe you don’t know how to reply, either way Suna feels a weight lifting from his chest. It’s true, he thinks he might have a deeper conversation with you of all people. A faceless someone who sends him pictures of stray cats and nice sunsets, who makes him smile at silly jokes. He shortly wonders if you’d like to open up to him in the same way, if being vulnerable will ever be on the table. For now, he’s okay with simply letting you know.

Osaka ends up being extra motivating.

The EJP Raijin players have been training hard, religiously respecting their schedules: there’s no time for slacking off, days punctuated by a disciplined sleep routine, physical and tactical training, cool-down exercises, refuelling afternoons and evenings spent cross-training. The synergy within the team is off the charts, they have won every single practice match played so far and the excitement is palpable as the game with the Black Jackals approaches.

Their training sessions are usually shorter. Atsumu insists it’s because they’re in better shape, Suna’s almost punched him in the face over dinner.

When he’s not too exhausted, against all odds, he enjoys spending some time with old friends and acquaintances. He knows it’s going to be a difficult game, Sakusa is a pain in the ass to block and Inunaki, their libero, is very talented. But he thinks he’s ready.

As they stroll through the city when their free days or breaks coincide, Suna is sometimes hit with pangs of a sentiment not entirely foreign. Nostalgia, regret? He can never tell for certain. He misses having his friends around, being in the same place at all times, travelling less. As he thinks of Osamu currently being the only occupant of his large, painfully empty apartment, while he shares a portion of takoyaki with an ever annoyingly loud Atsumu, when he listens to Bokuto enthusiastically detail his relationship with Keiji, he thinks he’s missing out on too many things and he’s past feeling unperturbed about it.

“Shoyo says he’s very happy in Brazil, asked us to visit soon. Ya should come”, Atsumu lightly bumps Suna’s shoulder with his as they walk by the river, in search of a good viewing spot. The colorful procession carrying portable shrines is quickly filling up the boats to be paraded up and down the Okawa river. While it’s still early for fireworks, oh and bunraku performances are about to begin on different stage boats, and the air is filled with fragrances coming from the endless rows of festival food stalls. What an unexpected fortune, to be in town for the Tenjin Matsuri.

“Not gonna crash on your friend’s couch”, Suna’s peremptory tone makes Atsumu roll his eyes.

“Why are you being so pissy today? What’s up, scared you’re gonna lose?”.

Rintaro searches for something in his friend’s annoyingly familiar, limpid gaze as Bokuto snickers next to him. He finds his own affection, honed by years of joint quarrels, reflected in it.

“Rin?”, Atsumu’s worried now, head slightly tilted to the side. Suna offers a tiny smile.

“Do you ever miss Hyogo?”.

“No”, the answer comes quick, “I miss my family, I miss my friends. Yer ugly face especially. Places are just places”, he shrugs and Suna feels his shoulders relax.

“We’re lucky, we still get to catch up”, Bokuto smiles, “it’s okay to feel sad sometimes though”.

“I’m not sad”, Suna grimaces, “t’was just a question. Shut up”.

“Aw, don’t be shy! Keiji always says owning how we really feel is important”, Bokuto offers him one of his dangos and he begrudgingly takes it.

“I feel like… you should shut up”, he gruffs out. Atsumu snickers at that and Bokuto pouts. Suna doesn’t pay attention to any of them, too preoccupied with taking a decent picture of the boats. He wonders if he’ll be able to make the fireworks look as pretty as they’re in real life, to show them to you.

He doesn’t care that you’ll know where he is, it isn’t but a small part of himself he wishes to unravel for you. It’s what you two have been doing, no? Occasionally sending each other messages that go beyond jokes and memes. You now know he has twins as friends, just how much he loves his little sister, his favorite dish. Suna knows you live close to your family and visit them as often as possible, that you always bring a can of tuna in your bag should you come across stray cats on the way to work. He knows you’re scared of the dark and can’t look at blood without feeling dizzy. You’re trusting, extremely indecisive, a fierce procrastinator, you spend too much time on tiktok and are scared to death you’re not going to be able to keep those who are important to you in your life, forever. Suna gets it, really.

He hasn’t been able to say much, you opened up to him as if it was nothing and he still can’t bring himself to share much more than comforting words and feeble details. Who cares if he likes yakisoba? He hates how detached he feels from everyone else. He feels lonely. He wishes he still lived in the same town as his friends. Sometimes he goes to sleep with the tv left on, to simulate someone else’s presence in a cold, empty apartment. He misses his family, like, all the time. The thought of getting on a plane paralizes him. He doesn’t think he’s good enough at volleyball, his team may lose and it would be his fault. He doesn’t think he’s good enough.

“Taking cute pics for your mystery girl?”, Atsumu grins widely. Suna keeps a composed facade, calmly snaps a few additional shots, but internally he’s screaming. It’s his fault for expecting a twin to keep a secret, really.

“How d’you know they’re not for my instagram?”.

“You haven’t updated your feed in a year”, Bokuto points at his phone screen, sunarin profile open to prove a point. Rintaro almost snatches it from his hand to throw it into the river below.

“She’s not my girl”, he grumbles instead, “just a random person I talk to. It was Osamu’s idea”.

“It was a good idea. I’ve been trying to get Kiyoomi on that app too, you’re both so closed off”.

On any other occasion, Suna would’ve denied that and retorted with an abrasive remark. Not this time, though.

“Yeah. Trying to improve there”, he huffs, to which Atsumu’s ready-to-take-the-piss expression softens.

��Right. So how is she? Can’t remember the last time you texted with a stranger for more than a week before they were either ghosted or became your girlfriend”.

“She’s okay. I don’t know much”.

“Everyone on Matchpal is anonymous”, Kotaro fills in Atsumu’s knowledge gaps.

“She has to be more than okay if you’ve been talking for over a month”, the older Miya insists, prodding mercilessly at Suna’s discretion.

“She’s funny”, he finally concedes, “and smart. Makes opening up to a stranger look too easy”.

“Smart? Okay, ya definitely wouldn’t be her type then”, part of the tightness in Suna’s chest dissipates as his fist collides with Atsumu’s arm.

“I think that’s the point, though. You don’t know each other and will never meet, so you can admit things you wouldn’t normally mention. Be vulnerable”, Bokuto finishes his dangos and crumples up the small disposable cardboard box they came with.

“Yes but at this point she doesn’t really feel like a stranger anymore”, Suna pauses after saying that out loud, surprised by his own words. When has he stopped considering you a faceless someone on a random app, exactly? He realizes he’s given you a voice in his head. A smile he imagines reacting to his lame jokes, when he deflects tentative personal questions. He’s given you a routine, shared most of his. You don’t feel like a stranger anymore but you’re not exactly a friend. What are you, then?

“Uh-oh”, it takes a moment to realize that the teasing sound comes from Bokuto. Crap.

“And we could meet”, Suna pushes, “Shizuoka is not that big”.

“She’s from Shizuoka? Christ”, Atsumu lets out a low whistle, “does she know you live in the same city?”.

“She never asked”, if the justification sounds odd, his friends are kind enough not to point it out. He doubts Osamu would be as lenient. Truth is, he didn’t ask either: after some time, you had just randomly disclosed the information, probably because you perceived him as a very discrete person. Which, for the record, he is.

“I’m going to ask you this question just once. Do ya like this girl?”.

“No”, obviously not, “I don’t even know her”.

“Oh? But you just said she doesn’t feel like a stranger?”, Bokuto’s eyebrows shoot up.

Suna sighs. His limbs feel heavy but it’s a different feeling than the one he gets after practice, more draining.

“He’ll figure it out”, the weight of Atsumu’s hand on his shoulder feels weirdly comforting.

I don’t know what she feels like, Suna wants to say. He settles for saying nothing, as the hold on his shoulder grows tighter for a split second.

Coach is going to have an earful ready for Motoya if he doesn’t show up on time at practice, in the morning. He’s still out celebrating-drinking with other teammates, their first Tenjin Matsuri an excuse good enough to be late. Suna doesn’t mind having the hotel room to himself for the evening, a welcome novelty: he just hopes he won’t have to drag his friend out of bed the following day.

His hair is still wet, the bed way too comfortable to consider getting dressed. You, a distraction that fills his stomach with fuzzy warmth, something that for a second makes him forget why his phone has been exploding with notifications.

It’s that stupid instagram post he decided to share after a year of semi hiatus, online presence proven only by the occasional story he’d upload. Suna feels particularly caught in his feelings today, so why not post the selfie Atsumu took by the river? His comment is pinned at the top of the section, with over 8k likes.

miyatsumu brothers ❤️

Bokuto left a heart too, Samu and Kita some of their usual simple but genuine comments. Love you guys. Miss you :). It’s easy for them, a skill he wants to master as well. It’s not enough for the people in his life to simply know that he loves them, Suna wants tell them more.

He takes a look at other comments, smiling faces with heart-eyes emojis and inappropriate compliments from strangers that make him laugh. He shortly wonders what your instagram looks like. Filled with pictures of you with your friends and family, no doubt. A feed that showcases your favorite food and places, creative outfits, witty captions and sometimes no captions at all. It’d fit you.

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Osaka!!!!

-> Fuck I’m so jealous, I never got to see the festival :( did you have fun?

crysnoopy

-> I did. Some old friends are in town too, we’re playing against each other soon

Unfinishedusernam

-> Your friends are also athletes???

-> Now I feel bad, this is literally how I’m spending the evening

-> [IMG_62371]

Suna smiles upon opening the picture. You’re sitting on your couch and the hand not holding the phone is doing a V sign, a lidded tray balanced on your legs, tv channel set on a show he’s never been interested in. The lights are dim, the room doesn’t seem too big but it feels so cozy. The way a home should feel. He sees a coffee table and some lit candles by the tv unit.

crysnoopy

-> Looks like a perfect evening to me

Unfinishedusernam

-> I only walked 200 steps today.

crysnoopy

-> I’m like trying really hard to find something nice to say

-> Every morning is an opportunity to create a masterpiece called life?

-> Stop surviving, start thriving?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Fuck you for making me laugh, I almost dropped my dinner

He laughs as well, out loud, then double taps your message to like it so that you know he’s still acknowledging it, despite something more urgent suddenly prompting the quick movement of his fingers.

crysnoopy

-> Hey, remember when we talked about how you’re really scared of losing the people you love?

Suna can almost sense your surprise, it’s evident in the way the little scribbling hand appears and disappears repeatedly as you probably try to think of something appropriate to say.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Yeah?

crysnoopy

-> I feel that too

-> Most days I wake up thinking I’m a bad person

Another pause. This must be the most exposed he’s ever felt and Suna is grateful your replies are not as fast as they usually are because his hands are suddenly cold, palms clammy and disgusting.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Why do you think that?

crysnoopy

-> I don’t do enough to show how I feel and one day that could make them leave

-> Maybe stability isn’t for me and that scares me

-> I get bored easily, I don't want to commit. What if what’s regular, easy for everyone else will never be my thing?

Well, that’s a whole lot of fucking baggage he just dropped on you. His first instinct is to apologize, to ask you to just forget it, deflect with some joke about having had too much to drink and being in his feels. But he doesn’t do that. Why? What makes him want to trust you with all that? Perhaps it’s just curiosity, wanting to find out what a complete stranger would think of the thoughts that eat him alive at night. Maybe he’s hoping for some miraculous solution offered on a silver plate. Or he just wants to check if he’s able to even do the whole being vulnerable thing in the first place.

Your response comes after a couple minutes and Suna doesn’t remember the last time he felt so nervous.

Unfinishedusernam

-> How did you meet your current friends?

He furrows his brows.

crysnoopy

-> Most of them I met in school

Unfinishedusernam

-> So they made the conscious decision of being your friends every single day, all this time

-> Btw getting bored easily is okay. A bad person wouldn’t be asking those questions about himself :)

-> You can always work on what you want to improve

crysnoopy

-> You make it sound too easy

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes it really is tho

-> You’re not too late, you know. Tell your friends that you love them, tell your family that you miss them

Unfinishedusernam

-> It doesn’t have to be easy right away

-> You get to make your own regular. Create your new normal

Suna exhales, reads your messages over and over again. It’s oddly comforting realizing that he is, in fact, not too late yet. Why does he always think that he is?

His phone pings again.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I think you’ll find a person you’ll want to commit to

-> That’s what I tell myself after all my failed dates anyway lol

-> Remember, be the change that you wish to see on tinder

Suna snorts, heart lighter in the hotel room he sits alone in. He could get drunk on the relief suddenly filling his chest, it feels like the touch of a cool hand over a feverish forehead.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Still there?

crysnoopy

-> I’m here

How could he not be?

crysnoopy

-> Thank you

Unfinishedusernam

-> How’s opening up to a stranger feel? :)

Good, if the stranger is you. Apparently.

crysnoopy

-> Mysteriously comforting

-> How are you failing those dates? Do I have to beat anyone up?

Unfinishedusernam

-> Nah

-> It just seems the guys I’m into are never into me

crysnoopy

-> That sucks for them

It really, truly, actually does. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt as comfortable sharing something so personal over text, it’s all so natural Suna is convinced he’d be able to do that in person as well. How would it feel to meet you? Would the magic wear out, is this so easy only because an anonymous profile on a silly app?

Sure, Suna doesn’t know your name or what you look like, but that doesn’t make you a stranger. He knows you enough for the words to almost spill out of his hands, words that press threateningly against the pads of his fingers.

He’d be into you. He’d date you. That’s what he wants to say: there’s no need to know how you look or the name printed on some documents, he knows enough. It’s a weird feeling that scares him and clouds his mind for a brief moment, as he waits for your reply.

Unfinishedusernam

-> That’s sweet of you to say!

-> Last time I went out with a guy I really liked it was a disaster

-> He also lived pretty close to me, thank god he moved now

crysnoopy

-> Well, joke’s on him. He’s missing out big time

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop being cute, I’ll fall for you

Suna takes a sharp breath. Reading the words does something funny to his stomach, something Atsumu would tease him for.

Shit, Atsumu. The game is so close. When’s the last time volleyball disappeared from his brain like that, with the snap of invisible fingers? Can he afford being this distracted?

Unfinishedusernam

-> This dinner fucking slaps btw

-> They opened a new place in my city, add that to the list of spots you have to visit if you swing by shizuoka

-> It’s called onigiri miya

Suna chokes on his own spit so badly he thinks he’s gonna die as he abruptly sits up, coughing fit that brings tears to his eyes. He stares at his screen in disbelief, sudden reminder of how tangible and close you actually are burning like a slap in the face.

Samu picks up after a few rings, it’s late enough for him to be either still in the shop or getting out of the shower.

“Hey, what’s up? Saw your pic with that scrub—”

“Did a girl come to the shop today?”, the question is uttered with so much urgency the line goes silent for a few seconds.

“My day was great, thanks for asking! I’m okay, eating dinner on your couch right now”, the fake singsong tone makes him roll his eyes.

“I’m sorry, this is an emergency. She just told me she was at your shop today”.

“Really? Did she like it?”.

“Osamu”.

He chuckles lightly.

“Okay. First, please tell me why we care so much that she came to the shop today?”.

Suna loves his friend, he really does. Sometimes he wishes he was close enough to be punched in the face. “Stop being a dick”.

“Fine. A girl did come to the shop today”, Suna’s heart almost stops, “… along with a million others”, he deflates against the pillow once again, defeated. He knows it’s something he really shouldn’t do but he still sends the picture to Osamu, slightly cropped to leave out everything that’s not useful to the investigation. The two things his friend gets to see are your dinner and a V sign.

There’s a pause, one Rintaro swears is filled by the loud pounding of his restless heart.

“I know who she is”, Osamu speaks quietly, in a tone that leaves no room for sarcasm.

“What?”, Suna’s voice comes out thin, incredulous.

“I remember her. Came in as I was about to close the shop, bowed and begged for whatever leftovers I might’ve had. She looked like she had a horrible day, so I just…”.

“Put something together for her”, as you always do.

“Yeah! I usually don’t use those trays but I didn’t have any of the regular ones left”.

“Well, how is she?”, Suna cringes at the impatience vibrating in his voice, it makes him sound desperate. Osamu hums, it’s a voluntarily prolonged sound that makes him scoff.

“She’s really sweet. Apologized a million times, left a generous tip. I think you’d like her”.

“Yeah?”.

“Yeah, Rin”, he’s smiling, “I also think you should tell her”.

“Tell her what?”.

“That you want to meet her, dumbass”.

Suna runs a hand through his now dried hair, lightly ruffles it. This feels dangerously real now, something he could grasp if he so much as decided to hold out a hand. You’re so close. There’s something else simmering underneath the fear and Rintaro recognizes it easily. It’s an almost forgotten eagerness that he’s not entirely stranger to.

“Samu”.

“Hmm?”, he’s smiling again. The asshole.

“I think I like her”.

“No shit”, Osamu full on laughs now, jovial and relieved. Despite the annoyance, Suna feels the exact same way.

Shizuoka seemed different upon his return, an endless pool of possibilities where something would inevitably remind Suna of you. He’d made peace with the fact that he had a crush on someone he’s never met and with that truth also came an endless list of associations his brain couldn’t help but make.

Texting you first, whenever he wanted, became natural. What’s more, it was almost as if you were encouraged by his newly loosened state, that one evening in Osaka opening the floodgates of something else, something different. You trusted him with your most intimate thoughts and so did he. There was no more wondering if you were bothering each other or texting at an unconvenient time. You’d once told him you felt self-conscious about that specifically.

Unfinishedusernam

-> Sometimes I feel like I’m too much

-> Would you tell me if I was too much?

crysnoopy

-> What do you mean?

Unfinishedusernam

-> You know, if I was pestering you

crysnoopy

-> You’re not too much

-> And even if you were, I could handle you :)

You were the happiest when he had told you they’d won the game in Osaka. Heck, you baked blueberry muffins (“to celebrate!”) and asked him to go get himself one so you could pretend he was there to eat yours. And Suna did: he got up from his bed, grabbed a jacket, put on some running shoes and made his way to his favorite bakery with a dopey smile on his face. He then suggested a toast and, what a coincidence, you happened to have a bottle of white wine left unopened for the longest time. The occasion seemed worthy.

And so you both ate and drank and celebrated until his cheeks felt hot and your texts started lacking proper grammar. Suna remembers how it felt, slumped on his couch, lights low and mind dizzy as his eyes blinked and blinked and then blinked again while the message sat on his screen, black against white. He just stared at it, not entirely able to discern reality from fictitious.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I wish you were here

-> I’d probly just kiss you

Suna remembers staring at his screen as a wild joy exploded in his heart and took over his entire chest, scorching and vibrant like festival fireworks. He stared at it for so long he still doesn’t quite recall if he wrote the reply or if the reply wrote itself, because the only other solid memory in relation to that moment is drifting off with an empty bottle of wine precariously balanced on his lap.

He woke up the next morning with a sour taste in his mouth, a throbbing headache and sore neck. His phone had fallen to the floor and when he picked it up, it was with a heavy heart that he noticed you hadn’t replied.

crysnoopy

-> I want nothing more

-> I’m from shizuoka too. let’s make it happen?

It wasn’t unusual for one of you to leave the other on read and it wasn’t like Suna to hyperfixate on not receiving a reply but this time, for some reason, it felt different.

As he got up with a groan and shuffled to his bathroom to take a shower, a strange feeling of dread strangled his body from the inside, his mind running a million miles a minute. Were you disgusted? Mad, that he had kept his location a secret? That would’ve been unfair, though, and you had always proved to respect his boundaries. Maybe it was all a joke, then. You thought of all that flirting as nothing short of a game, something stupid to pass the time with a stranger online. Something that wasn’t real. Worse, something you’d never want to be real, especially if given the chance to make that happen. Fuck.

Suna succeeded in keeping himself fairly busy for a few hours that day: he cleaned his whole apartment, did some meal prep, called his mom, called his sister, even called Atsumu. Your silence kept throbbing at the edges of each minute, it became so unbearable he ended up sending you a picture of an aspirin package with a funny caption, to test the waters.

You never replied. Not that day, not the following day, a week later your chat is still painfully empty. Or rather, filled with all the messages he’s sent before giving up.

crysnoopy

-> Killer headache town, population: me

crysnoopy

-> How are you feeling?

crysnoopy

-> Hey, everything ok?

crysnoopy

-> I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

-> I was really tipsy, I didn’t mean it

crysnoopy

-> Or at least I didn’t mean to sound so pushy.

-> I’d never pressure you into doing anything, let alone meet me

crysnoopy

-> I’ll give you space if you need it, can you just please tell me that you’re okay? It’s been three days

crysnoopy

-> Okay. I’ll be here if you ever come back.

He’s so mad at you. Weren’t you the first one coming forward with all that stuff about wanting to kiss him? Why would you disappear? He’s apologized, what else can he do? Was it all seriously worth so little to you?

Suna feels as if the days are longer now, training unbearable. Instead of keeping his mind occupied, all it does is remind him of how badly his blocks suck lately. He doesn’t pick up when Osamu calls, he’d read everything there’s to read in his seemingly inexpressive tone. He’s mad at himself, for not noticing how stupidly attached he’d become. Is it normal to miss you so badly? He doesn’t remember the last time he missed someone just as much. The world is cruel in relentlessly reminding him of you: an advert you’d find funny, that movie you’d recently discussed making a comeback in cinemas, sunsets painting the sky in orange and lilacs so similar to the ones you’d send him, a pair of fuzzy fox slippers on display in a shop window on the way to the gym.

The toxic part of his brain is ruthless in reminding him that this is why he refuses to open up to new people. That this is why he never lets himself be actually vulnerable and simply plays along: it’s because he’d be left with nothing but mockery, humiliation and loneliness.

But Rintaro doesn’t want to give that part of his brain any more solidity. What he wants, is to be proud of himself. Relieved, even. He wants to feel happy for having been brave enough to take a risk, to trust, to open up. He wants to relish in the joy that the brief encounter with you, anonymous and all, gave him. So what if you never come back or talk to him again? That’s on you. He’ll miss you for a good while, will probably always wonder what you’re up to from time to time, but he’ll be okay. You gave him much more than what you’re probably aware of and truth is, he’s grateful. He just hopes you’ll always be okay too, he hopes life will treat you well. He hopes you don’t regret trusting him with your most intimate thoughts, ever.

It’s not like he doesn’t reread some of your messages, to keep himself company. The most recent ones still have the not entirely pleasant effect of twisting his insides. He’ll have to delete that folder of screenshots eventually.

Unfinishedusernam

-> I’m so glad I stumbled over you on this stupid app btw

Unfinishedusernam

-> You’re sweet, snoopy :)

Unfinishedusernam

-> Today was shit

-> Sometimes I think about how it’d be to have you here, at the end of shitty days

Unfinishedusernam

-> Stop flirting with me, it’s working

Unfinishedusernam

-> I feel so slilly

-> can you evne like someone you nevee met?

Turns out, you really can. He just never fully got around to telling you properly.

And then, one day, Suna’s blocks don’t suck anymore. In fact, they’re just as good as they’ve always been. He speaks with Osamu on the phone, a little bummed that his friend doesn’t have another trip to Shizuoka planned anytime soon: the shop is doing great, his presence is no longer required as often.

“I’ll miss you”, Rintaro still remembers the stunned silence following his words, “come back soon, shop or not”.

The younger Miya twin paused his ministrations, hands sticky with rice, and offered a surprised chuckle, “I’ll be back. Ya can also take a train every now and then, ya know?”.

“Maybe I will. Hey, next time you plan a trip to Osaka, can I come too?”.

“Hell yeah. I wouldn’t have to endure that dickhead alone”.

He talks to Kita and Aran way more these days: when he thinks of one of his friends, he simply grabs the phone and reaches out with a text, a meme or a funny reel. It seems to make them happy.

When his mom tells him that Kaori has been relentlessly asking about visiting her older brother, Suna assures her that he isn’t too busy to accomodate her for a week or for however long she wants to stay. Even if he was, he’d make it work. His mom clicks her tongue, gives her approval for a weekend only, less her daughter falls behind her homework even more. He grins when he hears Kaori scream MAKE IT TWO WEEKENDS in the distance.

Suna hasn’t seen his little sister in months and despite their relationship being exhaustingly conflictual (they are way too similar to each other and she gets a kick out of pissing him off), he loves her deeply and she trusts him just as much. Sometimes being home without him can become a lot and it’s not like she ever directly admits it but he’s pretty sure Kaori misses him, the little gremlin.

He was already 14 when she was born and little Rintaro had faced the news of a new addition to the family (a female, no less!) with infinite crankiness. He huffed and puffed and complained about having to share a room and a bathroom throughout his mom’s entire pregnancy, then a pink little bundle of dark hair and eardrum demolishing shrieks held his pointer finger in her tiny fist for the first time and he swore to guard her with his life, forever.

Suna wakes up extra early to clean the bathroom and his room, which he’s going to give to his sister, and make it girl-appropriate. He always goes on a tiny shopping spree before she visits: kitchen cabinets are now filled with her favorite snacks, there’s a colorful set of strawberry handcream, lotion and lip balm on his nightstand, a sweatsuit set neatly folded on his bed, the expensive vanilla body scrub their mom wouldn’t get her sits pretty in the shower.

He texts her before heading out for practice, demands she keeps him updated about her position. Kaori send a thumbs up and the picture of the blurred view outside the train window.

Unfortunately, as it often happens, coach announces the team is required to stay longer than he had anticipated and Suna doesn’t dare explain that he’s actually in a terrible rush because Motoya has been playing like shit and, of course, that becomes everyone’s problem.

“Get it together, man”, he hisses, way less patient than usual. Komori pouts.

“I’m trying”.

“Try harder!”, Washio snickers from the other side of the court.

It’s not until an hour later that Suna can dash through the gym doors, already forty minutes late to the appointment his sister had agreed on in the morning. When he notified her about the extra training, she didn’t falter.

-> No worries, I’ll find the house.

The train station isn’t at all far from his apartment, a mere 15-minute walk, but Kaori hasn’t visited in a few months and she’s not exactly known for her acute sense of direction. She’d get lost in her own house if it wasn’t impossible to achieve that in a small two bedroom apartment.

“Why is your damn phone going to voicemail?”, Suna grumbles to himself in the middle of the street, torn between running to the station or straight home. It’s not dark yet but the sun has set and Kaori knows very well the one thing she’s never allowed to do is turn her phone off, especially if him or their mom are not aware of where she is.

Right as he decides to head to the train station first, he hears her voice. There’s someone taller with her, which makes the hairs behind his neck stand up right away.

“Kaori!”, he damn nearly trips over his own feet as he rushes towards his sister in the opposite direction, gym bag almost falling off his shoulder while she chats with god knows who without a care in the world.

“Rin”, she stops right in her tracks, “sorry, kinda got los—”

“Why the hell is your phone turned off?”, as if to underline his point, he impatiently taps on his phone screen a few times, another call interrupted by immediately going straight to voicemail. He only now realizes how breathless he sounds.

“Battery died, I forgot my charger at home”, Kaori juts her bottom lip out. She’s the spitting image of her brother. “I was lucky to meet your friend right outside the station”, she looks up and so does he, features morphing into a horrified expression. Out of all people.

“You… what?”, Suna doesn’t know what to say. Was his neighbor even capable of smiling like that?

“It was nothing! We had fun, didn’t we?”.

Kaori nods. “We fed some stray cats on the way here. It’s so weird that you had canned fish in your bag, though”.

“I always carry some! Didn’t you see how hungry Mochi was?”.

For the following seconds, Suna is incapable of uttering another word. It becomes weird enough for his neighbor to wave a hand in front of his face, brows furrowed.

“Suna?”.

“Yeah”, he replies on autopilot, “Yes. I mean, thank you. Kaori, let’s go”, he eyes his sister’s large, pink, glittery backpack. Hanging from his neighbor’s shoulder.

“Uh, actually”, his sister coughs.

“What now?”.

“I kinda need to use the bathroom”.

“You can use it at home? It’s a ten minute walk from here, let’s get going”.

“I kinda need to use it now”.

“Kaori”, he sighs, “it’s ten minutes”.

“I live right here”, the woman from his nightmares indicates the house behind her, “wanna make a pit stop?”.

“Absolutely not”, Suna clears his throat, “she can hold it”.

“She can’t”, Kaori shrinks in herself a little, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“Fine, I guess we are making a pit stop”, he mutters and his sister exhales in relief, grabs his neighbor by the sleeve and urges her to open the door, quick quick quick please.

Suna watches his sister dash upstairs with a snort as he takes her backpack. It’s heavy as a rock. The hell did she put in there?

“You’re not gonna catch fire if you come in, you know”, his neighbor fixes him with a sarcastic glare as she takes off her shoes, letting her own bag fall to the floor.

“Sorry for the trouble”, he steps in at last, with a low grumble that allows a chuckle to surprise him.

“Don’t be too hard on her. She was panicking, I offered my phone but she didn’t remember your number. I asked where she was supposed to go and when she mentioned the neighborhood, I inquired about her brother’s name. Pretty lucky, huh?”, she’s not looking at him, busy taking off her jacket as well. Suna’s gaze softens.

“Yeah, really lucky. Thank you for taking care of her”.

“I also have a younger brother, I know what it feels like”, she smiles, looking at him at last, “one time we went to a festival without our parents, he thought it’d be funny to play hide and seek without telling me. I think I aged ten years that night”.

“She also used to run away so much as a kid. It’s in our blood, I was the exact same”.

“Doesn’t surprise me for some reason”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“I’m done, we can go now”, Kaori hops down the stairs, two steps at a time, then glares at her brother. Golden, foxy eyes narrowed. “You’re not being rude, are you?”.

He rolls his eyes but, before he can reply, someone beats him to it.

“He’s never rude to me. We’re friends, remember?”, Suna watches her wink with a smile so warm. Is that really the same person he runs into almost on a daily basis?

Astonished, he witnesses that little, usually quiet, reserved gremlin smile back at his neighbor. Then, remembering how important formalities are in their family, she thanks her with a deep bow. It’s only then that he notices them: fox slippers. Cute, pointed ears, bushy tales and everything.

They both jump when the steel water bottle hits the parquet flooring, Kaori dramatically clutching her chest. “Can you not be a weirdo for five seconds?”.

His neighbor (could it be…???) furrows her brows in genuine confusion. “I think volleyball finally started affecting his brain. Better take him home”.

“Yeah. Let’s go, loser”.

“Shut up, be thankful mom’s not here”, he fires back, fake annoyance to cover the fright that gnome’s actually caused. Suna’s heart is racing for an entirely different reason as he takes another furtive look at those slippers while pushing Kaori out the door, mind racing.

He is completely, absolutely unable to focus. Over dinner, he distractedly listens while his sister paints vivid pictures of boring classes, the art course their mom wants her to give a chance to, the latest fight she had with her best friend. He asks questions and fails to register the answers he gets, over and over again. It’s a relief when Kaori sprints to the bathroom, calling the shots for who gets to shower first. Suna is left rinsing the plates, with a brain that can’t think.

Would it be possible? You’re from Shizuoka. You have those exact slippers. You always feed stray cats. God, the fucking slippers. What are the chances?

He could call Osamu, ask a few questions. Instead, his sister’s voice keeps chipping away at what’s left of his sanity.

Your friend’s cool. I wish my teacher was that nice.

A teacher. Could kids be the wearing but rewarding humans you often mentioned?

He goes back to that disastrous dinner, desperately trying to recall how the conversation felt. What did they even text about prior to that evening? Was that woman as charming as you are? Fuck, he doesn’t remember a single word exchanged that evening. He just remembers being an asshole.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes”, from her comfortable spot on the couch, Kaori watches her brother march to the front door, then bend down to put on the same shoes he wore a few hours before, “lock the door, don’t burn the house down”.

“Where are you going?”, her brows are knit in confusion, never in worry.

“None of your business. Lock the door”.

“Sure, sure, bye”.

“Right now, Kaori”, something in his weirdly brisk tone makes the fourteen year old pause the show she’s watching, not without a dragged groan, and get up from underneath the blanket she had stolen from her brother’s room.

You’re so ready to go to bed early and declare the day officially concluded.

Work was tough, managing a new classroom of overexcited kids had proven to be particularly difficult. Between the increasing pressure from school administrators and the daunting task of creating engaging lesson plans for the new semester, you felt a heavy weariness threatening to swallow you whole.

As you brush your teeth, tired reflection staring back at you, he worms his way back into your thoughts once more. Saying that hearing his name and then seeing him again was unexpected would be an understatement: you were absolutely convinved (and thankful) he had moved. Where the hell did he disappear for over a month? Just to come back and show up like the annoying, irritating nuisance he is. One you can’t seem to whisk away.

Your date was one of the most disappointing nights of your life. Suna, the guy you had talked with for days, the same Suna who was so witty, intelligent and nice, was also just so blatantly uninterested. Bored. He didn’t even make the effort to ask about your day, eyes distant whenever you tried to initiate a conversation. And of course, because life hates you, you have to be reminded of that night every single day because you now see him every single day.

What’s more, you had failed the one person you’ve been able to feel interested in after that big, fat disappointment. Someone who just found himself trapped in the crossfire of your thoughts and stupid, stupid fears. Someone you were selfishly not ready to have so close. Someone wonderful who didn’t deserve your self-serving worries.

You’re already in your pjs when the doorbell rings multiple times, so insistent you almost trip down the stairs as you hurry, terrified that you’re gonna have to face an emergency with pandas printed on your pants.

“What the hell?!”, you instinctively step back as he leans forward, his entire weight resting against the doorframe.

“Sorry, I know it’s late”, Suna takes a deep breath but it’s not really needed. Prior warmup or not, he isn’t at all affected by the sprint through which he covered the distance between his house and yours. “I just had to… hey, can I come in? I’m probably gonna have a heart attack if I don’t sit down”.

You’re staring at him wide-eyed, completely startled.

“Yeah? Sure, come in! Is your sister okay? Did something happen?”, you’re quick to push the door closed as he heavily flops on your couch.

“No, no…”, Suna seems distracted for a moment, eyes scanning the room and zeroing on your tv, which is currently turned off. He stares at it for a while, then lets out a small laugh. “Actually, maybe it’s better if I stand up”.

“Suna, are you on drugs right now?”, the question is serious but his eyes, now fixed on you, don’t reveal any particular emotion besides genuine… amusement?

“I need to tell you something”.

The odd idea that he might be hiding a knife somewhere underneath that leather jacket crosses your mind for a split second.

“Sure…?”.

“When my sister was a baby, she’d cry a lot. I legit thought my ears would explode at some point”, he weighs the words carefully as he approaches you and, for some odd reason, you don’t take a step back. “She’d cry so much, all the time. And then, one day, I brought home a snoopy plush I won at the arcade. It became the one thing that would always shut her up”.

It feels like someone’s toppled a bucket of ice cold water over your head. Suna is standing so close while looking at you in a way you’ve never witnessed, a way so uncommon for him. You can’t focus on the desperation in his eyes and you’d never guess the hopefulness simmering behind a gaze that seems to be discovering you for the first time.

“It’s you”, barely a whisper, but it’s all the confirmation he needs. The relief in Suna’s exhale is intense as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in. Thank god he does, because your knees feel so wobbly.

It’s a weird sensation, being pressed against him, hanging onto his shoulders for support. He’s warm and smells so good, of bergamot and musk. Your brain can’t quite comprehend that he’s the person you’ve been talking to for the past months.

“I missed you. I’m sorry”, he confesses in the curve of your neck and the words dissolve underneath the thin fabric of your pjs, slowly sink into your skin and bones. “I’m so sorry”, he says again, carefully pulls back to look at you, eyes searching for any sign of discomfort. Mirth flashes across his features for a moment. “Hey, are you about to throw up?”.

“No, of course not!”, you take a tentative step back but he doesn’t trust your stability and keeps a gentle hold on your arms, “why are you apologizing? I disappeared. I should be the one… I should be…”, Suna’s gaze softens, one hand rising up to touch your face but then freezing mid-air, deciding against the risk of freaking you out even more.

“Please don’t cry”.

“What?”, you retort, “I’m not crying. Ew”, but when you touch your cheek, it’s shocking to find it wet. What the fuck.

“Oh, god. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me”, a dry chuckle bubbles up from your throat, “listen, there’s no pressure on you. I’m sure this is a real disappointment so, like, we can pretend it never happened and just go on with our lives. I won’t—”

“Are you sure it’s you? The person I’m looking for is pretty clever”, he attempts a smile when you frown, familiar at last. “You think I’d leave my sister alone and race all the way here for a real disappointment?”.

“I think you just wanted to corroborate”.

Suna rolls his eyes, incredulous. “Well, I corroborated. I’m only gonna pretend it never happened if that’s what you want, because it sure as hell isn’t what I want. If you even care about that”.

You angrily wipe your tears, cheeks burning scorching hot with embarrassment. “I didn’t expect you to be so close. I freaked out. I’m freaking out right now because you’re even closer, apparently”.

“Are you disappointed?”.

You look at him, really look at him. His dishevelled hair, naturally narrowed eyes, the bridge of a perfect nose, full lips forced in a severe line. He’s searching for something in your gaze, with fierce determination. How can one person’s eyes be so penetrating? You feel naked, exposed. Vulnerable.

“No”, you reply, sincere, “no, I’m not”. If only you could feel the relief taking over his chest. “But… what now?”.

Suna feels as if he’s seeing you for the first time and, at the same time, it’s like he’s recovering something important, something precious. He’s already trusted you with some of the most important, hidden parts of himself. He hasn’t liked someone that way in such a long time and he’ll be damned if he lets this chance pass by. Again.

He’s not too late. Why does he always think he is?

You curiously watch as Suna takes his phone out and spends a few seconds tapping on it with a smile he can barely hide.

The familiar ping of a notification you haven't heard in weeks makes you stutter.

crysnoopy

-> Now we do this right.

#suna x reader #suna x you #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #hq x reader

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honeytonedhottie · 5 months ago

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starting ur healing journey⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🩹🎀

healing is so important for us to function and have good quality of life. a lot of the time its easy to brush ur mental and emotional health underneath the rug but its just as important as ur physical health, if not more important. take care of urself…💬🎀

SHADOW WORK ;

shadow work is a form of journalling that focuses on confronting our "shadows" or parts of us that we dont know well, to help kind of understand ourselves better, why we respond to certain situations the way we do etc. it rly dives into urself and ur shadows.

HOT TIP ; if u search shadow work prompts on pinterest they have some rly rly good prompts, thats where i get all of my prompts. i also have a couple posts that include shadow work prompts…💬🎀

the most common way i see people do shadow work, and the way i do it, is by using shadow work prompts and choosing a few that resonate with me. i'd answer the prompt in depth and talk about it in my journal. shadow work has helped me heal in so many ways and i highly recommend it if ur thinking about starting to do shadow work every now and then.

WHAT DO U STRUGGLE WITH ;

recognizing what triggers you and things that u struggle with help you to identify the underlying source. this is called being more aware of urself, so i challenge u to dig deeper into urself and try and find out what the BIG idea is.

some things to take note of when ur trying to identify the deeper reasons for ur behaviors, feelings etc is to look at…💬🎀

♡ what do i value

♡ what do i have the strongest opinions towards

♡ what is something that i think of all the time/why do i think that all the time

by also looking at ur biggest fears, ur strongest opinions and ur deeply held values u can kind of understand what u value most and where ur insecurities and fears stem from. something that u can also look to is the things that u regret...

STRUGGLE WITH REGRET ;

first off, understand that u should recognize, reflect and then move on because living in a past moment is stagnant and u can't expect urself to heal if ur doing so. the only thing that u rly can do is heal from it and learn from whatever u regret so much so that then in the future u dont repeat those same things.

THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING GENTLE WITH URSELF ;

practice self compassion!! i swear everyone is so kind to literally everyone EXCEPT for themselves. give urself a break and humanize urself. u can do this by allowing urself to make mistakes and forcing urself out of the shame cycle. you are allowed to make mistakes cuz your human!! stop being so hard on urself.

furthermore remembering to be gentle with urself can cultivate a better relationship with self. acknowledge ur feelings and remember that whatever emotions ur feeling are totally normal and valid. doing things like…💬🎀

♡ journalling and nurturing urself, ur being gentle with urself and to me thats rly important when embarking on ur self healing journey

WAYS TO SHOW URSELF THAT U CARE ;

♡ practicing forms of self care and grooming - ur showing urself the love that u deserve and that ur worth taking care of and putting in effort for

♡ being mindful of ur health through what u eat, how much u sleep etc

♡ walking away from toxic situations, people etc and protecting ur peace in doing so

♡ getting fresh air everyday and moving ur body

♡ focus on urself and your needs before focusing on the needs of other people. you first.

SEEK AND YOU'LL FIND ;

lately most of my worries and the thing that has been putting the biggest strain on my mental health is things that i dont have the answer to. and by seeking help from some of my moots and my friends and searching on my own for answers that satisfied my curiosity i feel like i can live yk? cuz im constantly in a state of wondering and asking myself things that ik stress myself out and im working on breaking that cycle…💬🎀

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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months ago

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Marshmallow Longtermism

The paperback edition of The Lost Cause, my nationally bestselling, hopeful solarpunk novel is out this week!

My latest column for Locus Magazine is "Marshmallow Longtermism"; it's a reflection on how conservatives self-mythologize as the standards-bearers for deferred gratification and making hard trade-offs, but are utterly lacking in these traits when it comes to climate change and inequality:

https://locusmag.com/2024/09/cory-doctorow-marshmallow-longtermism/

Conservatives often root our societal ills in a childish impatience, and cast themselves as wise adults who understand that "you can't get something for nothing." Think here of the memes about lazy kids who would rather spend on avocado toast and fancy third-wave coffee rather than paying off their student loans. In this framing, poverty is a consequence of immaturity. To be a functional adult is to be sober in all things: not only does a grownup limit their intoxicant intake to head off hangovers, they also go to the gym to prevent future health problems, they save their discretionary income to cover a down-payment and student loans.

This isn't asceticism, though: it's a mature decision to delay gratification. Avocado toast is a reward for a life well-lived: once you've paid off your mortgage and put your kid through college, then you can have that oat-milk latte. This is just "sound reasoning": every day you fail to pay off your student loan represents another day of compounding interest. Pay off the loan first, and you'll save many avo toasts' worth of interest and your net toast consumption can go way, way up.

Cleaving the world into the patient (the mature, the adult, the wise) and the impatient (the childish, the foolish, the feckless) does important political work. It transforms every societal ill into a personal failing: the prisoner in the dock who stole to survive can be recast as a deficient whose partying on study-nights led to their failure to achieve the grades needed for a merit scholarship, a first-class degree, and a high-paying job.

Dividing the human race into "the wise" and "the foolish" forms an ethical basis for hierarchy. If some of us are born (or raised) for wisdom, then naturally those people should be in charge. Moreover, putting the innately foolish in charge is a recipe for disaster. The political scientist Corey Robin identifies this as the unifying belief common to every kind of conservativism: that some are born to rule, others are born to be ruled over:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/08/01/set-healthy-boundaries/#healthy-populism

This is why conservatives are so affronted by affirmative action, whose premise is that the absence of minorities in the halls of power stems from systemic bias. For conservatives, the fact that people like themselves are running things is evidence of their own virtue and suitability for rule. In conservative canon, the act of shunting aside members of dominant groups to make space for members of disfavored minorities isn't justice, it's dangerous "virtue signaling" that puts the childish and unfit in positions of authority.

Again, this does important political work. If you are ideologically committed to deregulation, and then a giant, deregulated sea-freighter crashes into a bridge, you can avoid any discussion of re-regulating the industry by insisting that we are living in a corrupted age where the unfit are unjustly elevated to positions of authority. That bridge wasn't killed by deregulation – it's demise is the fault of the DEI hire who captained the ship:

https://www.axios.com/local/salt-lake-city/2024/03/26/baltimore-bridge-dei-utah-lawmaker-phil-lyman-misinformation

The idea of a society made up of the patient and wise and the impatient and foolish is as old as Aesop's "The Ant and the Grasshopper," but it acquired a sheen of scientific legitimacy in 1970, with Walter Mischel's legendary "Stanford Marshmallow Experiment":

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stanford_marshmallow_experiment

In this experiment, kids were left alone in a locked room with a single marshmallow, after being told that they would get two marshmallows in 15 minutes, but only if they waited until them to eat the marshmallow before them. Mischel followed these kids for decades, finding that the kids who delayed gratification and got that second marshmallow did better on every axis – educational attainment, employment, and income. Adult brain-scans of these subjects revealed structural differences between the patient and the impatient.

For many years, the Stanford Marshmallow experiment has been used to validate the cleavage of humanity in the patient and wise and impatient and foolish. Those brain scans were said to reveal the biological basis for thinking of humanity's innate rulers as a superior subspecies, hidden in plain sight, destined to rule.

Then came the "replication crisis," in which numerous bedrock psychological studies from the mid 20th century were re-run by scientists whose fresh vigor disproved and/or complicated the career-defining findings of the giants of behavioral "science." When researchers re-ran Mischel's tests, they discovered an important gloss to his findings. By questioning the kids who ate the marshmallows right away, rather than waiting to get two marshmallows, they discovered that these kids weren't impatient, they were rational.

The kids who ate the marshmallows were more likely to come from poorer households. These kids had repeatedly been disappointed by the adults in their lives, who routinely broke their promises to the kids. Sometimes, this was well-intentioned, as when an economically precarious parent promised a treat, only to come up short because of an unexpected bill. Sometimes, this was just callousness, as when teachers, social workers or other authority figures fobbed these kids off with promises they knew they couldn't keep.

The marshmallow-eating kids had rationally analyzed their previous experiences and were making a sound bet that a marshmallow on the plate now was worth more than a strange adult's promise of two marshmallows. The "patient" kids who waited for the second marshmallow weren't so much patient as they were trusting: they had grown up with parents who had the kind of financial cushion that let them follow through on their promises, and who had the kind of social power that convinced other adults – teachers, etc – to follow through on their promises to their kids.

Once you understand this, the lesson of the Marshmallow Experiment is inverted. The reason two marshmallow kids thrived is that they came from privileged backgrounds: their high grades were down to private tutors, not the choice to study rather than partying. Their plum jobs and high salaries came from university and family connections, not merit. Their brain differences were the result of a life free from the chronic, extreme stress that comes with poverty.

Post-replication crisis, the moral of the Stanford Marshmallow Experiment is that everyone experiences a mix of patience and impatience, but for the people born to privilege, the consequences of impatience are blunted and the rewards of patience are maximized.

Which explains a lot about how rich people actually behave. Take Charles Koch, who grew his father's coal empire a thousandfold by making long-term investments in automation. Koch is a vocal proponent of patience and long-term thinking, and is openly contemptuous of publicly traded companies because of the pressure from shareholders to give preference to short-term extraction over long-term planning. He's got a point.

Koch isn't just a fossil fuel baron, he's also a wildly successful ideologue. Koch is one of a handful of oligarchs who have transformed American politics by patiently investing in a kraken's worth of think tanks, universities, PACs, astroturf organizations, Star chambers and other world-girding tentacles. After decades of gerrymandering, voter suppression, court-packing and propagandizing, the American billionaire class has seized control of the US and its institutions. Patience pays!

But Koch's longtermism is highly selective. Arguably, Charles Koch bears more personal responsibility for delaying action on the climate emergency than any other person, alive or dead. Addressing greenhouse gasses is the most grasshopper-and-the-ant-ass crisis of all. Every day we delayed doing something about this foreseeable, well-understood climate debt added sky-high compounding interest. In failing to act, we saved billions – but we stuck our future selves with trillions in debt for which no bankruptcy procedure exists.

By convincing us not to invest in retooling for renewables in order to make his billions, Koch was committing the sin of premature avocado toast, times a billion. His inability to defer gratification – which he imposed on the rest of us – means that we are likely to lose much of world's coastal cities (including the state of Florida), and will have to find trillions to cope with wildfires, zoonotic plagues, and hundreds of millions of climate refugees.

Koch isn't a serene Buddha whose ability to surf over his impetuous attachments qualifies him to make decisions for the rest of us. Rather, he – like everyone else – is a flawed vessel whose blind spots are just as stubborn as ours. But unlike a person whose lack of foresight leads to drug addiction and petty crimes to support their habit, Koch's flaws don't just hurt a few people, they hurt our entire species and the only planet that can support it.

The selective marshmallow patience of the rich creates problems beyond climate debt. Koch and his fellow oligarchs are, first and foremost, supporters of oligarchy, an intrinsically destabilizing political arrangement that actually threatens their fortunes. Policies that favor the wealthy are always seeking an equilibrium between instability and inequality: a rich person can either submit to having their money taxed away to build hospitals, roads and schools, or they can invest in building high walls and paying guards to keep the rest of us from building guillotines on their lawns.

Rich people gobble that marshmallow like there's no tomorrow (literally). They always overestimate how much bang they'll get for their guard-labor buck, and underestimate how determined the poors will get after watching their children die of starvation and preventable diseases.

All of us benefit from some kind of cushion from our bad judgment, but not too much. The problem isn't that wealthy people get to make a few poor choices without suffering brutal consequences – it's that they hoard this benefit. Most of us are one missed student debt payment away from penalties and interest that add twenty years to our loan, while Charles Koch can set the planet on fire and continue to act as though he was born with the special judgment that means he knows what's best for us.

On SEPTEMBER 24th, I'll be speaking IN PERSON at the BOSTON PUBLIC LIBRARY!!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/04/deferred-gratification/#selective-foresight

Image: Mark S (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/markoz46/4864682934/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

#pluralistic #locus magazine #guillotine watch #eugenics #climate emergency #inequality #replication crisis #marshmallow test #deferred gratification

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ghouldump · 7 months ago

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Anything For You | Lestat De Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ all he wants is for you to be his perfect companion, yet you keep chasing the fleeting things of life

it was accidentally deleted, so i’m reposting

"You should've left me to die, I wasn't worth much before, and now I'm a monster," you stared at your reflection, disgusted with the sight.

"Ma chérie, don't be stupid, do you think I would give my blood to someone who wasn't worthy?" Lestat asked, approaching you from behind, but you pulled away.

"You made me into this-

"You will learn to control your thirst, you just need to allow me to teach you, and to stay away from that pathetic excuse of a-

"I loved him," you screamed.

"-and he used you, he used you over and over, then I came. I loved you, I love you, but you continue to chase a passion that should have died with your soul," Lestat raised his voice over your own, he was growing frustrated with your childish tantrum.

However, he knew he'd hurt your feelings, as your eyes softened. Biting your lip, you ran upstairs, to your coffin, wanting to be away from the elder vampire. He would leave you alone for now, until you were done with your rage. Lying in the dark, you chewed at your lip, holding back the urge to cry, you hated crying, one of the many qualities that were a reminder that you were no longer mortal. Tossing and turning, you closed your eyes, reminiscing about your former life, and what you could remember of it.

You grew up poor, living in the Third Ward of New Orleans. Your mother died during childbirth, leaving you to be raised by your father. He never remarried, and hardly paid any attention to you, working himself to an early death. At 12, both of your parents were gone and with no other family or life insurance, you began to search for a job, along with a new place to stay - the bank eventually had taken the house due to owing taxes.

You struggled for some time, trying to find somewhere, anywhere when you ended up at Canal Belle's. You worked as a housekeeper for the brothel, until you were 18, then you were finally put to use (as they said). The high-end whorehouse was very particular about who they employed, so you were determined to gain your boss's approval.

Prostituting was in the simplest term, miserable. Knowing you had a place to stay, food, and a bit of change in your pocket were all great - but there were downsides. Constantly being used and degraded, instances of abuse or being robbed. A life like this didn't have any true value until you met William.

Average height, dark hair, green eyes, and broad shoulders, he was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. He had recently graduated from law school and was the dreamiest man you'd ever met. Although looking back at the last year, when you were alive, he was more underwhelming than originally thought to be.

"I can see why you were a hefty penny, miss?"

"Y/n"

"Miss Y/n, you can call me Bill, thank you for your beautiful talent," he said, holding out his hand, smiling as you hesitantly accepted his hand.

"Do you sweet talk every lady of the night, after their service is done?"

"Only the ones as gorgeous as you-l'm messing around, you..are my first"

"Well, I'm glad to be apart of the experience," you smiled, climbing out of the bed, and going to the vanity. You had other clients tonight, you had to clean yourself up.

Watching as he left the room, your eyes briefly flickered at your reflection, before you began to wash up. William quickly came to become a regular at the brothel, everyone knew you were his favorite. As his paywage increased, he grew more arrogant and possessive, not wanting to share you with others.

Meanwhile, the soft spot that you once had for him, grew into genuine love. 'I'm gonna take you from this place, we'll move down to Lafayette, build a nice house, have a lot of babies', he pillow talked. Your heart nearly shattered, finding out that he already had a wife.

"You have to understand, darling, it was arranged by my old man, once he's dead, then I can divorce her, and I'm all yours," he reassured, wiping your stained face.

"You promise?"

"I promise, now take off this pretty dress for me," he said, pulling you into his lap.

In a way, you accepted your unfair situation - life had already dealt you a poor hand, so why deny yourself love? No, it wasn't proper, but nothing about your life was. that is until the mysterious French man moved to New Orleans.

The first night you'd met, you couldn't help but be mesmerized. Sitting at the small table in the corner of the balcony, you listened to the band. You always had an ear for music and it was rare moments like these, you were able to truly enjoy the sound of the instruments.

William was running late, you weren't even sure if he would make it tonight, but you didn't mind. You would miss out on money, but at least you could hear the music. Something about the melancholy of the trumpet, made the sorrows of your life fade.

"I agree, this song is lovely on the ears," hearing the voice you jolted, turning to face the man.

"May I?" he motioned at the table.

"Oh, yes," you nodded, watching as he sat near you, crossing his leg over the other.

"I don't believe I've heard this band play before"

"They're new, only play on Friday nights"

"Ah, that certainly explains it"

“I don't believe I've seen you before, are you a tourist?"

"I recently moved here," he pulled out a card, his name written in golden letters.

"Lestat, I'm-

"Y/n, yes, I've heard much about you, are you still accepting clients, Ma chèrie?"

"I-

"Y/n, come," William said, approaching the two of you.

'Do not let him speak to you in such a condescending tone'

Furrowing your eyebrows, you confusingly looked at Lestat, he had spoken to you, without moving his mouth. He hadn't even acknowledged William, tapping his glass-like nails to the sound of the music.

"Coming, it was nice to meet you, Mr. De Lioncourt," you gave him a small smile.

"The pleasure was all mine," he said, reaching for your hand, and placing a soft kiss near your knuckles.

William lightly frowned at Lestat, his arm territorially going around your waist, leading you away to your room.

'He thinks he is above you, when it is you, who is superior'

Again, Lestat's voice could be heard in your mind, making you look back at him. He now stood in the doorway of the balcony, maintaining his hypnotizing gaze, a smirk in place.

You didn't see Lestat for nearly two weeks until your madam called you into her office, the mysterious man eyed your figure, from head to toe, that same grin, and your heart fluttered at the sight. The room was much brighter than the balcony and you could see him more clearly. He looked heavenly, yet devilish, perhaps a beautiful fallen angel, gracing your eyes. He smiled, chuckling, making your blood run cold, the way his eyes stared at you, you were certain he could hear your thoughts, but that wasn't possible.

"Y/n, you won't be seeing Mr. William tonight, Mr. De Lioncourt was willing to pay double the price for you, you be a good girl now," she told you, leaving the room.

"Please, come sit," Lestat said, your feet moved on their own, leading you to the chair near him.

"Hi, Mr. De Lioncourt-

"No need to be formal with me, ma chèrie-

"Are you a magician?" You asked, making him laugh.

"Excuse me?"

"I heard you in my head"

"He speaks to you as if you are his pet, it's irritating seeing such potential being treated poorly," he said, his hand going to gently rest on your cheek.

"You are too kind, Lestat, but Bill didn't mean any harm, and I'm nothing special," you shook your head, your eyes widening as he scoffed.

"Nonsense, you will soon see how priceless you are, I would take my word for it, over your affair partner, I mean, look at me, then him"

"Affair?"

"Ma chèrie, you are aware that he is married? You are more than a fling"

"It is a misunderstanding, he was forced into an arranged marriage, once his father dies, we can-

"Did he tell you these things? I am unmarried, I wouldn't burden you with the worries of another, you'd be my angel, for an eternity," he said, as you stared into each other's eyes.

"If I wasn't broken, then I would believe you, but I have to accept what I can get"

"Not with me, I'll be there to fix every piece of you," he said, moving closer before his lips were pressed against your own. Swiftly, you were in his lap, reaching for the back of your dress.

"I can't accept this," you shook your head, backing away from Lestat, who only pulled you closer.

"Oh, but you must, it will go perfectly against your soft skin," he said, wrapping his arms around you.

"Fine, but close your eyes, no peaking," you said, stepping out of your clothes, and slipping into the gifted lingerie set.

You had only been seeing Lestat for a few weeks now, but it felt like it had been months. He came nearly every night and on nights he didn't make it, he sent a letter, apologizing. He continued to pay double, much like William, keeping you to himself, except you didn't mind. Some nights, you'd have spontaneous sex, walk the streets, or have long conversations. Lestat was making his way into your heart, and shoving William out of the way, and you found yourself not minding.

"Hey, I said no peaking," you giggled, adjusting the knickers, before looking through your new small collection of dresses. It seemed like every time he visited, he had a new gift.

"Mr. William, Y/n, is busy-

"Let be through," you opened the door confused, making eye contact with a furious William. His eyes softened on you, but noticing Lestat who now stood behind you, his button shirt open, you could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

"Y/n, what is the meaning of this?"

"Bill, it is nice to see you"

"What are you doing with him? You are mine, you will not be with the both of us-

"I'd like to stay with Lestat," you answered quickly, your heart racing, as he chuckled, slamming the door in William's face.

"I can't believe I did that, do you think we could do something else tomorrow? Even if we just go walk down the quarter," you rambled, until his finger brushed against your lips.

"I will send for you to be brought to my home, I must go”

"Your house? Are you sure?" You asked, you had never seen his home, only hearing a few things about it being expensive. You knew Lestat was wealthy, but you never questioned how or why. You didn't question a lot of things about him, how you never got to see him during the day, why his eyes were so pale, how he was able to get into your head. You simply accepted these traits as a part of him.

"I will see you then, ma chèrie," he said, getting dressed, before softly pecking your lips.

The next day, as the sun was setting you were making your way back to your room. You had been out, searching for lipstick and perfume, but Lestat would be sending for you soon. However, before you could make it back to Canal Belle's, a sack was thrown over your head, dragging you into an ally.

As you went to scream, you couldn't, your mouth covered harshly, as you were thrown into what felt like a carriage. You could hear multiple voices, none recognizable, but they were laughing. Eventually, the motion came to a stop, before you were dragged out again. Clawing your way free, you broke into a run, before you were tackled, when they started. Taking turns, the unknown men beat you, repeatedly. The screams that wanted to escape were now suppressed. Suddenly, one of them ripped the sack from your head.

"P-please"

"Shut your mouth, whore"

They continued and continued, your breathing becoming more ragged, your vision more blurred. Unexpectedly, a harsh wind blew, and both of the men were killed soundlessly. Lestat then stooped down, lifting you into his arms.

"Lestat," you shrugged to keep your eyes open, confused to even be seeing him.

"Y/n, allow me to fix you, you'll be my companion, and I yours, and no one will ever hurt you again," he said, watching as your hand, weakly went to his mouth, wiping at the smeared blood.

"I'm damaged property-

"You are more precious than any jewel, my love, allow me to gift you an eternity of bliss," he said, a single bloody tear rolling down his face.

"Okay," you nodded, growing more tired by the second. Abruptly, you began feeling a burning sensation, as Lestat bit your neck, sucking your blood, leaving you cold and numb, before allowing you to drink his own.

Becoming Lestat's companion and fledgling was easier than you thought. Or at least, you didn't struggle in areas that you thought you would. You thought you'd miss going out in the warm sun, eating different foods, spending time with your old favored clients. None of those things matter to you anymore, Lestat filled your mind and you enjoyed every moment with him.

Except there was one thing, the fundamental problem you struggled against. Your thirst was strong, you could hardly control yourself, doing something as simple as passing by other mortals was a struggle. Lestat had been helping you with your hunting, but you still couldn't gain discipline from his techniques.

Running into a former colleague, she insisted that the two of you caught up before she went on to bring up William, he had moved to Lafayette. Hearing the name piqued your interest in a way that it shouldn't have. You began thinking back, all the fun stories he's shared, his kind and romantic words. Lestat knew something was going on, you were beginning to pull away from him, but he didn't want to force you into a conversation.

You began to plan, you knew Lestat would be jealous, and not supportive - but this felt right. Just as the sun set, you knew Lestat had plans tonight, however, you didn't intend on joining. Placing a kiss on his lips before he left your shared home, and you began to get ready yourself.

Traveling by foot, you made it to Lafayette within thirty minutes and began your search for Williams' home. By the time you found him, any traces of the sun had disappeared. You slowly approached his home, a large house, in the middle of nowhere. As a woman came out, a baby in her arms, you stopped. He wrapped his arms around her, kissing her, before doing the same to the child in her arms. A hand went to your mouth, in disbelief, watching as she went inside, you revealed yourself.

"Bill," you called out, approaching.

"Y/n? I-my eyes are playing tricks on me," he shook his head.

"No-

"I heard you died," he said, making you freeze.

Nearly six months passed and no one knew about the incident with you and the two men. It was dark, and Lestat had killed them before he got the chance to read their thoughts to figure out why they were doing this. However, standing in front of Bill, it now made perfect sense, the gears clicking in your mind. The bloody tears began to leak from your eyes.

"Well, I'm here," you held your head up, wiping away the blood before it could make it down your face.

"You were never gonna leave her, were you?" You asked a sad smile in place.

"Oh, darling, don't worry about her, come here," he said, opening his arms.

Slowly moving closer, you stood stiff for a moment, as he wrapped his arms around you. Going to wrap your arms around him, you noticed a prominent vein in his neck, triggering your teeth. Your mind began to run wild, you wanted to drain the life out of Bill, his wife, his infant, and anyone in the home. Lifting your head to bite-

"Y/n, come to me, Now," Lestat commanded. The compelling feeling washed over you, and you pulled away from Bill.

"I have to go," you said, ignoring his questions, making your way back home.

Now away from him, your emotions were everywhere, the thought of killing the child and his mother disgusted you, only a monster-

And Bill, why would he do something like that to you, was he never in love with you?

Lestat stood outside, his jaw clenching, his eyes following you as you went inside.

"You have been crying," he said, pointing out, as you went to the bathroom, turning on the water to rinse your face.

"Why did you go see him?" He asked.

"Can we not talk about this?" You asked in return, feeling yourself getting emotional all over.

"No, I need to know why my companion ran off in the middle of the night, to go see another-

"It doesn't matter, I won't go again," you said, rolling your eyes, as another tear dropped.

"Something happened, ma chèrie?"

"I'm a monster, I wanted to kill them all, even a child, am I that untamed, that I would hurt a child," you shook your head in disbelief.

"You are far from a monster, you just need time"

"You should've left me to die, I wasn't worth much before, and now I'm a monster," you stared at your reflection, disgusted with the sight.

Memories of the fight between the two of you made you open your eyes, staring up into the darkness. You were sure you had been crying all over again, by the wetness of your face.

"Ma chérie, I apologize for my choice of words, please don't shut me out," you heard Lestat's voice outside of the coffin.

"I will do anything, to make you feel better," he announced, as you finally opened the coffin.

"Your crying makes my heart ache," he said, gently wiping your face.

"I'm sorry," you told him. You felt remorseful, you hadn't fully let go of your old life as you knew it, when Lestat was right in front of you, guaranteeing a life of passion and love like no other.

"What could you possibly be sorry for?" he asked a gentle smile in place.

"I couldn't let go of the past to see to truly appreciate what was in front of me, but I couldn't see more clearly now"

"I love you too, my angel," he laughed, kissing your lips.

"Lestat, I think Bill was behind the incident, he said something questionable," you said, climbing out of the coffin, wiping your eyes, as Lestat stood.

"What did he say?"

"That he "heard" that I was dead, no one else knew about what happened, unless-

"He paid them to do it, probably out of jealousy, come, we have somewhere to be," he said in a serious tone, locking up the house and leading you to his car.

You didn't say much of anything, silently enjoying the ride, that seemed to last forever, until he pulled over.

"The rest of the way, we have to do by foot," he said, getting out, as the two of you walked down the familiar path. You felt like you knew where he was taking you, but silently, you followed, until stopping in front of the large home.

"Do not worry about the well-being of the child, I will take care of it," he told you.

"Lestat"

"As much as I want to do it myself, you deserve revenge,” he said, quietly breaking the door, and entering as it creaked open.

Going upstairs, he quickly came down with the infant, wrapped in a blanket. Grabbing a nearby basket, the child was placed inside.

"We will leave it somewhere safe," he told you, reassuringly, waving for you to go upstairs, when the baby cried out. He rolled his eyes in disgust.

Suddenly, footsteps were heard, followed by panic, they were looking for the baby. William's wife ran to wake him up, both of them soon coming into view as they ran to the stairs. Freezing, they watched as Lestat tauntingly held the basket.

"Please, give me my baby"

"Y/n, what is the meaning of this?

"Bill, you know her?"

"I truly don't understand why if someone's name starts with Will, everyone insists on calling them Bill," Lestat laughed.

Not saying a word, your teeth came out, staring at the two of them.

"Enjoy this," Lestat told you, snickering at the look of fear on Williams's face.

"Think of it like an eye for an eye, a death for a death," you told him, slowly walking up the stairs.

"Spare her," he pleaded, but you only laughed.

"I don't think you're in any position to make any commands," you smiled.

Sitting the baby outside, Lestat soon joined you as you drained the two of them, along with the house servants, before setting the house on fire.

Lestat kept his word, leaving the basket in front of a far-off neighbor before the two of you headed back to New Orleans. By the time you were back home, the sun was on the brink of rising. Hungrily kissing each other, Lestat carried you to your shared room, gently placing you on the ground.

"Thank you, for tonight"

"Anything for you," he said, pulling you into another kiss.

"May I join you?" You asked him, as he went to open his coffin.

"Always," he nodded, as you both stripped from your clothing. Watching as he climbed in first, lying down, you straddled his waist.

"I love you, Lestat"

"I love you more, ma chèrie," he held your hand, placing a kiss on it, as you reached up, closing the coffin.

If this is what your eternity looked like, then you couldn't be more grateful for such a gift.

a/n : feel free to send request if you have anything in mind

#lestat de lioncourt #lestat x reader #lestat de lioncourt x reader #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #the vampire lestat #the vampire chronicles #iwtv lestat

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scarletttries · 17 days ago

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Write A Kiss Request: Gun Woo (Bloodhounds) x Reader ...a kiss on a scar

(prompt list here) & 2025 Request List - requests open

...a kiss on a scar for Gun Woo

You could never get used to seeing Gun Woo around the house of the older gentleman you worked for. It was like seeing an angel in your own home, a statuesque Greek god walking past you on the street, like the most beautiful idol you could imagine saying good morning to you day after day. And he was so sweet about it too, so unassuming, so timid. You almost had a hard time believing this was the same man who could take out whole gangs of criminals with just his fists.

Maybe the most difficult part about seeing Gun Woo every day was that it slowly became clear that he couldn't see his own beauty for himself. Despite being as close to perfection, inside and out, as a man can be, you could tell he averted his gaze every time he passed a mirror, so fixated with the one recent blemish on his otherwise boyish face. It was hard to watch him flinch away from your gaze when you found yourself staring his way for a little too long, Gun Woo naturally assuming the lingering looks were for completely the wrong reason. Where you saw a sweet, brave, handsome man, he could only see a disfigured scar he was sure would haunt him for all his days. There was only so long you could let him think like that for.

It was a normal morning of him arriving at your philanthropic boss's home, waiting for an audience with the older man and standing in the hall by the time you arrived for the day. As you stepped through the door he didn't sense your presence, letting himself stare deeply into the small mirror opposite and running a finger firmly over the jagged scar that ran down his cheek and along his jaw. You couldn't tell if his slight flinch was from the feel of it under his fingertip, or from you appearing in the mirror, stepping behind him so your reflection could offer him the gentle smile you thought he might need today.

"When I've settled all my family's debts, and my mother's cafe is fixed again, I'm going to save up for the surgery to fix this scar." Gun Woo mumbled the words quickly, speaking to your reflection rather than turning to face you, sure he knew what you were thinking and that you didn't need a closer look at him. Without breaking your concentrated gaze you stepped a bit closer to him until you stood shoulder to shoulder, really taking in his reflection despite how it seemed to make him squirm.

"Why do you want the surgery?" You asked softly to his mirrored form, hoping he wouldn't find it offensive that you wanted to understand a little more.

"I think this scar will stop me from getting some of the things I want in life." He shook his head before adding in a nervous chuckle, "I don't think I will be able to get a nice, pretty girlfriend if I look like this." In the small silver screen you saw him raise his hand slightly, as if gesturing towards you as the definition of pretty, enough encouragement for you to say what needed to be said.

"For what it's worth, I think it suits you." Gun Woo's head jerked to the side, no longer looking in the mirror and instead focusing solely on you, "It shows who you are, you know? That you're brave, and strong, and loyal, and fearless." As you let each compliment spill from your lips, Gun Woo edged closer to you, leaning forward slightly to be closer to your eye level, scanning your soft expression for any sign of deceit and coming up empty. He looked at you so adoring as you spoke, so awestruck by your kindness, that you couldn't help but edge a little bit closer yourself. "I think the world would be a much better place if everyone carried their scars the way you do." And with that final sweet sentiment you placed a soft kiss on the marked cheek, one hand gently holding the opposite side of his face to keep him from moving out of reach before you could.

Body frozen and mind racing Gun Woo just blinked at you in disbelief, mouth hanging open slightly as you quickly pecked the scarred edge of his jaw for good measure and then skipped off into the home to start your day, letting him stew on your words and affections in his own time.

Turning back to the mirror Gun Woo ghosted his fingertips over the slightly glistening places your lips had touched, finally processing what had happened enough to let out a beaming smile at his own reflection. Maybe he didn't need to worry about saving money to cover his scars, he thought, watching the blood flush his cheeks a rosy pink. Maybe he should use that money to take you out to dinner instead.

***

If you enjoyed this, check out my bloodhounds master list for more Gun Woo!

#writing #fanfiction #requests #one shot #bloodhounds x reader #bloodhounds kdrama #bloodhounds netflix #bloodhounds imagines #bloodhounds #gun woo x reader #gunwoo x reader #gunwoo imagines #gunwoo scenarios #kim gunwoo

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pro-sipper · 1 month ago

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I understand that we should just block content we don't wanna see, but I still think things like proships or ships that are wrong and illegal in irl should be kept private. Because that is exposing kids to the romantization of abuse, incest, and pedophilia. This content may expose them to predators, which could cause them harmful trauma, the type that people claim to use proshipping for. They may think that a person older than them liking a kid is ok, even though the adult has bad intentions. We know that they are fictional characters, but they represent real people and can still affect kids. And if this isn't supposed to affect them irl, why do so many groomers show proship media and illegal art to grow kids?

Don't want to start anything just curious

I think the short version of the argument is basically "the internet shouldn't have to be a 100% sanitized and safe space for children". But getting further into it...

"but I still think things like proships or ships that are wrong and illegal in irl should be kept private."

It's not worth mentioning now but "proships" aren't a thing. Proship doesn't stand for problematic ship, it's not an adjective.

My question is why this line of thinking only applies to ships? Murder and cannibalism are also illegal, but no one's going around saying you should keep your love of horror to yourself, or only watch R rated movies in the privacy of your own home.

"Because that is exposing kids to the romantization of abuse, incest, and pedophilia."

The majority of people interacting with media like this, or making posts about this, DO NOT want kids interacting with their content! They slap every rating, warning label, and trigger tag under the sun onto their work to say that it is not for kids. At the end of the day, that's all you can do. It is not one random proshipper's job to shelter every single child in the world.

Furthermore, kids are exposed to that crap from plenty of other places besides randos on tumblr. Walking into a library or turning on a television can easily expose kids to these topics just as much as going onto ao3 or opening tumblr could. That doesn't mean every professional author or tv writer on earth needs to create art that's palatable for children. Because that's not their responsibility.

"This content may expose them to predators"

It's grim to say, but literally anything on earth could potentially expose a child to a predator. Getting on the bus, going to the park, going to school, going to church, going to a friend's house, going home. Honestly I think it's a bit of a privileged mindset to think that a child would be 100% safe in this world if it weren't for faceless boogeymen online committing the sin of writing dark fic of their Blorbos.

"which could cause them harmful trauma,"

Again, that trauma could come from anywhere. And you're putting the weight of preventing that onto random strangers online, not anyone who's concretely in the hypothetical child's life, or actually responsible for them

"the type that people claim to use proshipping for"

Appreciate the subtleties of invalidating other people's trauma. Just because you don't have the same coping mechanisms doesn't mean theirs are invalid. Especially when countless licensed therapists agree that writing is one of the better ways you can help process trauma.

And to state the obvious, you don't need to have trauma to be a proshipper. Not everyone uses dark content for self reflection, some people just think it's neat.

"They may think that a person older than them liking a kid is ok, even though the adult has bad intentions."

A kid should not be getting 100%, or even most of their life lessons from fictional media. Parents, guardians, teachers, and other trusted adults in a child's life are the ones who need to teach them right from wrong, and how to protect themselves. I remember being a kid and being told by my mom "now if a stranger pulls up to you and says they lost their puppy and they'll give you candy if you help them look for it, do NOT go with them". That was her job as a parent.

Now I know that sadly, not every child has that kind of trusted adult in their life. But it's not the responsibility of a bunch of fanfic authors on tumblr to fill in the gaps.

"We know that they are fictional characters, but they represent real people and can still affect kids."

It doesn't matter how closely or loosely fiction depicts our reality, it's still just fiction at the end of the day. Movies have been using the whole "Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental" disclaimer for almost as long as there have been movies.

"And if this isn't supposed to affect them irl, why do so many groomers show proship media and illegal art to grow kids?"

One, art is not illegal. Unless you get caught graffiti-ing, then you might get fined. And no one is saying this kind of thing can't affect a child. But why, in this scenario, are you putting the blame on fanfic authors and fanartists before putting the blame on the actual groomer??

And again I ask, what exactly is "proship media" anyway? I'm guessing the kind of stuff that constantly appears on people's DNI lists, which could be anything from Steven Universe to Cannibal Holocaust, so who really knows??

Like I said in the short version, the internet should not have to be sanitized for the sake of the children. The entire internet does not need to be one giant safe space for kids. Adults have a right to talk about adult things with other adults. To explore dark topics in fiction, or to have fun with taboos in a harmless way.

I want the world to be safe for kids too. But the way to do that isn't to forbid adults from posting shit online. Instead of trying to shield children from every controversial, difficult, or uncomfortable topic under the sun, give them the tools they need to learn how to process these things.

Be a safe person to talk to if a kid has a question. Help them understand why something might be okay in a fantasy setting, but it's not something that should carry over into real life (like, a fairy tale prince kissing an sleeping princess to break a curse is fine, but in real life where there's no magic you should always make sure someone is okay with it before kissing them. Something like that)

Teach them internet safety, above all else. When I was a kid, you didn't give out any personal info. Nowadays kids have no qualms about giving out their full name, age, list of phobias and disorders, showing their school, their house - the list goes on.

Honestly, I think we need to go back to scaring kids with Stranger Danger, at least a little. But that's starting to veer into a different topic and I think I've said all I need to say about this one today.

#proship #proshipping #proshippers #proshipper #pro ship #proship safe #asks #proshippers please interact #anonymous #sip rambles

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gatitties · 1 year ago

Text

Web of love

─Yandere!Jujutsu Kaisen x fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: your worst night followed by a wonderful day, are you slowly going crazy? Maybe, but you'll get out of here no matter what

─Warnings: blood, self-harm, anxiety attack, hallucinations, obsession, toxic behaviors, stalking, yandere stuff

Part One / Part Two / Part Three

The blank pages: Part One / Par Two

YOU TRY to control your shaky breathing, no one would take away the poor quality of sleep you had at this point in your life, but having nightmares right now was the last straw that broke your patience.

You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, your face was slightly wet because you needed to splash yourself to clear your thoughs, the cold water didn't help much anyway, you slapped your cheeks with moderate force hoping the feeling of mental numbness would go away, but again it didn't work.

"What the hell is wrong with me…?"

You touched your right cheek, slightly red from the previous blow, focusing your gaze on the reflection of the sink mirror, you were a complete disgust, never, not even in your worst period of exams, had you seen yourself so emaciated, the dark circles and bags under your eyes, the lack of color in your face, your frizzy hair, its lack or decrease, bloodshot eyes… you could continue to despise yourself while you stare at your reflection for hours, bringing out each of your flaws.

But there was one that bothered you beyond your appearance, your lack of emotions, your lack of thoughts, you refused to show anything other than a blank expression to those people who ruined your life, you refused to have to think complex things while they took care of everything, not being able to do anything on your own you began to stop complicating your life by thinking about solutions.

Who were you? What were your goals? Your tastes? When did your memories start to become blurry? When was the last time you really smiled? Were you real? Or just a corporeal desire of psychopaths eager to have something precious to protect? Since when was everything so gray, so monotonous? Did you still consider yourself a person with rights and freedom? When did you start accepting this?

"Hey… Hey!"

Focusing your lost vision again in the mirror, you weren't very surprised that you were hallucinating after having a brain as soft as baby food, it was you, maybe a couple of years younger who was speaking to you through the reflection, your mouth opened but no words came out as if you were a fish out of water.

"What's happening? Is this the future that awaits me? You're pathetic! Look at you… Where the hell is your stupid smile? You used to smile a lot before, why…? Why have I become a puppet?"

Your words mixed with a murmur, feeling how your heart squeezed painfully in your ribcage, your mind deciding to continue the macabre game of your existential crisis, replaying memories with your family and all the warm moments that kept you sane until now. You closed your eyes hoping that the hallucinations would disappear, but you only managed that instead of visuals they were audible, reproducing words of affection from your parents in a loop like torture, the breathing exercises you did before to calm yourself stopped working now, you bit your lip so hard that you ripped off some skin, not enough for you because you started running your nails down your arms, leaving red marks from the friction and force.

"You're better than this, what's all this whining about?! Get up and stop being a coward! You will only drag me into this meaningless future!"

"Shut up…"

"Are you even worth anything? You're so boring, I don't understand how those sorcerers want to protect you."

"Shut up."

"Are you going to cry to sleep like always? You are a disgrace, you are lucky, lucky that someone can love you so much, what would you do without them? They are much better than your own parents, accept it, accept it, they love you unconditionally! Even without knowing who you are or how you feel, even without knowing what your purposes are, they will love you! Accept your desti-"

"I said shut the fuck up! Silence!"

You shook your whole body, holding your head, you hit it a couple of times against the wall, so hard that even a couple of tiles fell off, a few drops of blood fell from your head, but you didn't care, the voice, your voice, it was gone, you swallowed your own poison, locking your inner, dark thoughts deep in your brain.

Your mind continued numb for a couple more minutes where all you could hear was a faint sound of static and a constant beeping, but it was more calming than having to listen to your own voice in that twisted way. Getting up once you calmed down a little, your reflection returned to normal, you splashed your face with cold water again, cleaning the blood on your head, nails and lip, taking one last look at your pitiful person, with your head still full of unknowns.

"Why is this happening to me?"

You rub your eyes tiredly, cleaning up the mess you had made, you decide to lie down on the cold bed once more, tucking yourself in and looking at the ceiling waiting for your body to magically disintegrate into ashes, too pretty to be real, when you realize the rays of light make your eyes hurt and sting, one more sleepless night, a new day awaits.

Faking and ignoring your nighttime crisis you get up to do your morning routine, being greeted by an overly cheerful Nobara as you passes through the dining room to look for some breakfast, you couldn't say the same for Megumi, who looked much more tense than normal, you didn't know where the others were but you didn't care much either, and Nobara and Megumi didn't say anything about your appearance, whether they noticed it or not, you're just glad they decided not to ask anything.

"You look like you've experienced the worst existential crisis of your life."

You spit out what you were drinking when you heard Maki just enter, from her appearance you could tell that she had gone out for a run early in the morning, Toge and Panda followed behind her, everything fell into a silence that was too uncomfortable for you because they stared at you carefully, completely ruining your efforts to hide your bad appearance.

"Just a bad dream…?"

You mumbled, avoiding everyone's gaze, Toge approached you, patting you on the head as if that would help you, although it was the most comforting thing you felt this week, it didn't feel as forced as other interactions.

To your relief, everyone continued with their things, while you ignored what they were talking about and continued eating breakfast, their talk became louder than usual, you frowned at this, deciding to listen lightly to the conversation, you froze when you remembered what they were talking about, the Kyoto school exchange, even though you didn't sign up for that stupid ceremony, as a student you had to, at the very least, be present, but you knew that a large concentration of sorcerers would only cause you more problems than solutions.

You knew why Megumi seemed so tense when the other students showed up, they didn't seem to have a very friendly relationship, they all seemed quite focused on the rivalry between high schools, which made you happy since the focus of attention wasn't on you, but rather in Itadori since he seemed to be targeted by the Kyoto school just for being Sukuna's vessel. The bad thing was that you had to stay in the teachers' room, with Gojo and a couple of other guys, the good thing was that you fell in love, Utahime was your spirit animal, definitely someone to admire just for her hatred of Gojo.

"So, why don't you want to compete? I can tell that you have quite a bit of accumulated cursed energy."

"Aww, meeting my favorite student? Well that's a delicate topic she doesn't-"

"I'm not talking to you, shut up."

You smiled internally when you saw Gojo's kicked dog expression, who didn't even let you talk to Utahime, she looked at you again, completely ignoring the albino's presence, it was, the first time since you arrived here that you felt like you were having a normal conversation with someone outside your life, someone disinterested in your protection, it was the most real interaction you had since then and it had to be ruined, not by Gojo, not by any student… curses, a planned attack, a lot of chaos was caused that you barely understood.

"Don't fight and don't try anything weird, although I'll know anyway, stay safe!"

It was the last thing Gojo said to you before leaving with the others to see what was happening outside, you couldn't have cared less about his words, and although locking you in your room was the main idea, your wires got crossed with your little sanity, if everyone was distracted by a greater evil you could use that to your advantage.

Since both sorcerers and curses were completely absorbed in their stupid fight, you used that to go outside, first it was a couple of meters, you didn't notice anyone, the capsule didn't stop you from leaving, so you walked further away, elated by your minimal achievement, you started running as fast as you could, reaching the busy streets of the city, smart enough not to go near the places Nanami frequented.

It had been a long time since your heart had been beating like this, so wild that you thought it might come out of your throat, you coughed for air once you stopped in a park, collapsing on the ground, you lied there, you laughed like a crazy person, some tears escaping of your eyes as you looked at the sky brighter than ever. You couldn't believe it, you were alone, with no one watching, you could feel all the positive emotions hitting you, there were so many sensations that you didn't know how to feel, but definitely much more relieved.

The smile on your face was indelible, you were happy, the world at this moment was painted in much more vibrant tones, the palette stopped being a constant tone of gray, you smiled at children, the elderly, you caressed animals, you bought a few flowers and then randomly give them to some people, completely in a bubble of happiness.

Although the bubble had to burst at some point, whether due to your subconscious or the pass of time, you knew that your sudden disappearance would only cause more of a stir, you wish you were left for dead, but you know those sons of bitches wouldn't have that in mind unless they saw your death with their own eyes or found your inert body.

Using your last moments of happiness, you decided to treat yourself to some of your favorite sweets, saying goodbye to the clerk who served you with one of your best smiles, you took the long way to the jujutsu high school, hoping to delay your reunion with your "loved ones" as long as possible.

"Stop there! Aren't you the missing girl? You've given us an incredible headache, come on, I'll take you back."

Someone you hadn't bothered to meet grabbed your wrist, pulling you without even waiting for you to react, analyzing her appearance, she was quite similar to Maki, maybe a family member.

"What a pity, sorry for the headache, but can you let me go? I know the way Maki number two."

At this moment the least you wanted was a confrontation, but your mood had not completely dropped, although now you were a little more upset than happy, your emotions overflowed, causing you to be a more sarcastic and sassy version of yourself.

Mai stopped instantly when she was called Maki number two, you had definitely found her weak spot, which turned into a passive-aggressive chat between the two of you, you would have been angry, but you couldn't be angry when you enjoyed the criticism you were giving each other, honestly it improved your day and you felt more human than before.

"Oh thank goodness you're fine! I thought those dirty curses had kidnapped you!"

Nobara didn't waste a second in hugging you as soon as she saw you, Itadori following her a second later, you assured them that you were okay not wanting everyone to crowd around you as the others also wanted to ask where you had been and why you disappeared when they were under stroke.

You drowned out the emotions you poured out during the day, swallowing everything, turning your expression blank as you felt Gojo's powerful gaze on you, everything calmed down for the next few minutes, the two schools finished the meeting and the Kyoto students left, before that you decided to exchange phones with Utahime.

Once you got rid of your companions, you locked in your room, unlike many other nights, you threw yourself on the bed, grabbing a cushion and screaming as if you were one of those teenagers in love in those saccharine series, you moved your legs in the air by pressing the cushion tighter between your arms. Changing your posture, you looked up at the ceiling just like the night before, with the big difference that now you couldn't contain your emotions, you giggled, biting your lip lightly, not noticing the wound you got earlier.

You saw it, you saw light at the end of the tunnel, ─not that way of course─, you saw how a door opened before your eyes, a new opportunity to free yourself from the chains that kept you captive with all these psychopaths, experience freedom after so much time made you delirious, made you imagine that you could get rid of them, that they would leave you alone, even if it was risky, your only option was to escape, run away from everything and everyone without thinking twice, without thinking about what can happen in the future, you would give everything to re-experience what you felt today when you ran away.

You sighed dreamily as you remembered the feeling of freedom, closing your eyes, not worrying about whether you were going to be able to fall asleep today or have another boring game of chess, oblivious to the blue eyes that watched from your window.

"It seems like someone is in her rebellious stage, maybe she need some restrictions…"

He muttered, unhappy with your disobedience but excited to see you happy, he didn't think he would see it so soon, your smile was beautiful just the way it was and you decided to hide it like that for them? They were only worried about you, why did you have to keep all that to yourself? They wanted to be part of your happiness, couldn't you understand it? Well, they will make you understand it no matter what.

Once he made sure that your breathing was stable, he entered your room, kissed your forehead like every night, only this time he sat next to you, caressing your head slowly, observing how, even while asleep, your silly smile was still painted on your face, the flash of his phone made you frown slightly, but you didn't wake up.

"I hope you rest well today, I'm sorry for not helping you the night before, but if I had come in you would hate me more, wouldn't you?"

He said to himself, closing the door slowly, giving you one last look before leaving, he sent the photo to the group chat he had with his students, reviewing the last photos where any of the four were able to capture something more emotion than indifference. Just like you, the small display of emotions only opened another door for them, that small display of freedom for you and emotions for them, was simply another trigger for your problems, after all, the more you move, the more you get tangled in the web.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #reader insert #fem reader #x reader #web of love #yandere platonic jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x fem reader #jujutsu kaisen x platonic reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #platonic reader #platonic yandere #platonic relationship #jjk x platonic reader #jjk x fem reader #jjk x reader

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angel-purger · 11 months ago

Text

⁰¹ As Lovers Do - Yandere! Geto Suguru x Gn! Reader

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Cross-posted on Quotev (@.oc34n1d) and Wattpad (@.heart-stricken)

9,100+ Words.

— Request by the very pleasant Nana ! It took me quite some time to be able to finish this but I really liked how this turned out and I hope you all did too. Again, if you want more detailed one-shots or headcanons, don't be afraid to explain to me in detail about what you want! Writing Geto's shift to obsession was really enjoyable and he's a really complex character. Alongside that, but accurate characterization for both the reader and Geto is so hard to write, so apologies if this took some time to be published. Scroll down for more notes.

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⠀ ⠀Protect human lives, sacrifice your own if you will; devour what is evil. Protect humans, do everything in your power to do so, but never expect to be appreciated by the public eye, shun away from society's admiration— instead being a topic if scorn for being different.

⠀ ⠀Geto abides by his ideology, engraving it in his mind without thought.

⠀ ⠀Protect humans, you are a jujutsu sorcerer for that sole reason.

⠀ ⠀Are human lives worth saving?

⠀ ⠀He can never eviscerate the bitter taste of curses. An unwashed, soiled, and iniquitous taste of death. Like a rag used to repeatedly wipe vomit, feces, and every vile chemical mixed into one. He can taste death, he can feel it lump at his throat at every second; ascending gradually with its acuate, protruding claws. He wants to cry, but every time tears well in his eyes, he is faced with the constant reminder of her death.

⠀ ⠀Riko Amanai, a failed mission, a dead vessel, subsequently leading to the stillbirth of immortality's mortal body to be renewed with Riko's body. Subsequently leading to a doomed future for the lives of people within Japan— a haunting reflection of his failures, failures he could've avoided if he was fast enough, strong enough to predict that fucking bullet.

⠀ ⠀Why wasn't he fast enough?

⠀ ⠀The very morals he so pridefully upheld, all crushed with one single mission. He is a disgrace.

⠀ ⠀Gojo was wrong. Geto and Gojo will never be the "two strongest" sorcerers. There can only be room for number one, and Geto will always be second. Second strongest, second best— so much so to the point that his presence doesn't shine as bright as it ever will be once Gojo is in the room. But that's alright, right? After all, he believes that working under the shadows to mitigate human deaths, without the feel to need gratitude from the very lives he saves, is what is right. And what is right is what is just, right?

⠀ ⠀He discovered that the water inside the shower is frigid when you are alone with only your thoughts accompanying you; like ice shards expending down on his back, like the stab of that human monkey (who defeated him so easily, he can't bring himself to admit). It stabs and it stabs and it stabs. And then he spirals, eyes diluting at the images of defeat. Then suddenly the world around him becomes an audience to his silent suffering. He can hear the cult members smiles, feel every bit of bile rise up his throat, taste the sin of death once more.

⠀ ⠀Geto is done showering.

⠀ ⠀Every day is a loop. Rinse and repeat. Wake up, eat, bathe, missions, more missions, explore some uncharted areas of the city, guarantee that it is safe from curses, go home, rest, dinner, sleep. There are moments where they interchange, but they never change.

⠀ ⠀Very few mention Riko Amanai. After all, she is a topic taboo now, especially since it heavily affected both Gojo and Geto's mentality. In more than different ways in fact.

⠀ ⠀He wants to stop thinking about her. Distractions are not needed in an era full of brimming human life— life that Geto has to, again, protect.

⠀ ⠀Just as he is about to leave his dorm after putting on his everyday school attire (making a mental note to skip breakfast and eat lunch alone), he is notified of a mission. A mission where he has to accompany a rookie sorcerer, a student like him admittedly, and it was a concept he wasn't accustomed to. After all, he was surrounded by talented people, and in a sea of talents, he felt more like a drop of dew— so maybe, despite the strange request from his Sensei, Masamichi Yaga, this would provide him a new opportunity.

⠀ ⠀He hopes it does. Your profile exhibits your meek countenance, like any normal civilian, but you seem strong enough to be scouted. There's not much of a significant presence you display when he read through your documents. Or so he thought.

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⠀ ⠀You became his new, temporary partner (he insists on that status on you, donning a pretty fake smile through his growing eyebags). It was surprising, really, to see you up close after reading through your files. The moment he met you eye-to-eye did he realize you share the same height as him, a few centimeters taller, he could estimate.

⠀ ⠀Geto's preliminary view of you was taken aback when you, albeit awkwardly, mingled with him after both greeting each other. You treated him warmly- like any normal person would- despite being strangers in the eyes of passerby's. Walking on the sidewalk, pretending that the mission you both (more-so you, than him, as he was simply there to accompany you in case of a problematic event) were to undergo didn't involve harrowing exorcism and countless condolences from any deaths involved.

⠀ ⠀Before he could mutter anything further, to proceed on the site of your mission, you'd drag him into, as you state, your favorite chain of street foods. Did you want to distract yourself from furthering your shared mission, or were you idiotic enough to forget to eat breakfast that you'd have to drag his bleary body elsewhere to satisfy your needs? He was pleasantly (or was it hesitatingly?) surprised when you beckon him closer to buy any street food that catches his attention, as long as it is within your school allowance.

⠀ ⠀As he was about to differ from your offer (he didn't want to seem rude to you), your lips thin to a line and your eyebrows furrow (though your entire expression does not scream of angered. Perhaps you are befuddled with yourself?), and you beat him to it, insisting that he was going all his way to entertain you and all; that despite being acquainted only for a short while did you notice how his stomach grumbled loudly and how he didn't even notice the noise his own body made. He realized he was the idiot here, that he ignored his human need to consume actual food rather than curses.

⠀ ⠀Prior to his knowledge of you, you're more caring than what he envisaged. Soft. The qualities very unlike a jujutsu sorcerer should possess unless one wishes for death. Yet, that momentary lapse of emotion in your face tells him you are more than experienced in the field work of jujutsu than what he expected— you are soft, but you are dominating. Caring, but challenging.

⠀ ⠀His mind blanks.

⠀ ⠀Then he finds himself licking off the residue of the bits of fish flakes on the side of his mouth after you both decide on takoyaki. You're both on the sidewalk again, with him stealing (prolonged) glances at you— you acting like nothing has happened, matching his pace as- as equals would.

⠀ ⠀It was strange, for him, to experience this type of casual kindness after a period of solitary confinement from his peers. You were merely treating him, as one co-worker does when wanting to pay a favor to a higher up after given assistance. But why, compared to his other classmates, who in more cases than one pay for their occasional food excursion, does he like it when you domineeringly persisted that you should pay for him. Was he becoming soft? Or was it you that tamed a part of him that he swore was nothing?

⠀ ⠀There were cases your body draws nearer to his whilst you try to make small talk - could you even sense how much he could sense you? - where he could feel the visceral heat off the barrier of the pitch-black fabric you wear. Geto swears he didn't mean to, but he could smell the faint perfume you're donning— it was way different to the smell of crimson he's perpetually exposed to.

⠀ ⠀Your smile. The indistinct crinkle of your eyes, eyes that bounce bashfully from his eyes to the surrounding nature. It's as if, despite your mouth moving automatically, attempting to forgo the small-talk that he started, those sneaky eyes of yours always find it way back to meet his.

⠀ ⠀Were you perhaps admiring him after he regained some energy? It wouldn't be the first time. After all, compared to his white-haired best friend, he was always the more charming one of the two, often attracting ladies he seemingly never bat an eye on. And maybe you were just like them; he would forget you after this mission, and you would simply see him as an unreachable force, a special grade sorcerer whose talents would be a force to reckon with—

⠀ ⠀But maybe he wanted you to idolize him, in a way where you couldn't stand as an equal in power, but you could stand beside him with the power to overcome him more intimately, just like how you, a few moments ago, stood your ground; softly glaring at him like how a lover would to their naturally self-neglectful partner.

⠀ ⠀What was he thinking?

⠀ ⠀If- if maybe he could have known you longer then he would've loved to share his ideologies with you more, share a deeper questioning of society. With how understanding you are, you would empathize with him in a heartbeat. With how quick you slip into the grasp of blunt truth, how easily your eyes would flitter about once faced with a ridiculous statement ("I think it's funny how oblivious humans are, no? They could be killed at any opportunity by curses. How unfortunate is it to be born with nearly no cursed energy... Shouldn't- shouldn't sorcerers just let them be? To rot? After all, saving them means attaining nothing on our part.") he would docilely express— you'd rebut him, but at the same time you would do so with the thought of his ideas in mind.

⠀ ⠀How invigorating must you be?

⠀ ⠀If you share the same sentiment with him then—

⠀ ⠀Then he'll finally have someone to rely on. In a world full of corrupt notions, you could be the only one who would comfort him

⠀ ⠀And God, your presence was really relaxing compared to the odd bunch he surrounds himself with— like a breath of fresh air amidst the fetid scent of curses he devours.

⠀ ⠀The most tantalizing part of you? You haven't even demonstrated your cursed technique, nor your fighting style to him— you've both just arrived at the scene of the crime too. Yet he's convinced that you seem to hold a lot of power over him.

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⠀ ⠀Protect human lives, sacrifice your own if you will.

⠀ ⠀The more that oh-so inspiring phrase repeats itself in his head like a broken record, the more he's stuck in a predicament of wanting and unwanting the want. He should protect them, the people, no?— God, humans are filthy, they're weak. And sorcerers; they don't deserve to be hidden, treated less...

⠀ ⠀You don't deserve to be undermined, especially by that loathsome family of yours.

⠀ ⠀A few days pass and he finds himself seeking your presence out, alas he couldn't. You were a lower rank than him, stuck with lower-ranking missions— and he's a special grade, dragged into countless complex commissions that would surely tire anyone. Anytime he tries to seek you out, he would find himself in another mission assigned by those abhorrent superiors; and that is merely another day without you.

⠀ ⠀Another day where he drowns in melancholic thoughts in the shower; drowns in what-ifs and the motifs of his supposed success of saving Riko. Yet the more time he spends in the showers without seeing that demulcent, yet potent expression of yours; Geto's imaginations drift from the need to finding any meaning of being a jujutsu sorcerer to yearning for the normalcy you unveiled.

⠀ ⠀When was the last time he was able to inhale so freely without feeling the sharp claws sinking its ways to his hard? When was the last time he exhaled without bile climbing up his throat? It's you he's thinking of again. You he associates with peace.

⠀ ⠀The erratic sprinkle of water from the showers doesn't sound like the cult members' laughs anymore... When he turns it off, the accustomed silence accompanied by pitch-sharp wringing was replaced by whispered voices; all the same sounding, yet they make his tense muscles relax. They all sound like you.

⠀ ⠀And...

⠀ ⠀The urge to strike another conversation with you struck itself into his nerves once more.

⠀ ⠀But he couldn't, even if he wanted to- definitely would.

⠀ ⠀So he- he simply has to find another way to know more about you; to check if you always wear that expression of yours, the one he wishes to engrave in his brain. Not only that but, he needs to evaluate your strengths so he could - in his mind - protect you, right? All throughout the mission you were efficient with utilizing your cursed technique, but in the end you had still ended up with minor injuries; some bruises, others scratches. They could turn major if he wasn't there to watch over you once you're faced with stronger, more complex opponents, no?

⠀ ⠀The idea terrorized itself into the core of his amygdala. He feels fear. He has to know more about you.

⠀ ⠀Because he couldn't find you in the period you both are working, with minimum time for breaks, Geto convicted himself to obtrusive methods of locating you.

⠀ ⠀By locating, that means he simply resorted to stalking you, hence how he discovered your not-as-kind family.

⠀ ⠀Your parents, monkeys, with no ounce of cursed energy whatsoever. Whose talents don't even do jackshit for society— who has the audacity to ridicule you like you're nothing but dirt. Rummaging through files he shouldn't have access to, Geto was revealed with information that you were scouted by the school after they found you coping furiously with your cursed technique after an argument which led you to being kicked out of the house you used to live in.

⠀ ⠀You were unaware of your skill, yet you managed to achieve what other sorcerers take time to master. He finds you not only endearing, but enough to be revered by others. But his prior admiration turned into aggravation soon enough after scanning through your files again.

⠀ ⠀You have nowhere to live other than the highschool you both reside in, no one else for a support system, nothing at all. Hell, you're even financially dependent on the allowance of the high school, yet you even went as far as to treat him like it won't cut your budget. Again, you have nothing.

⠀ ⠀But he could change that.

⠀ ⠀He will give you everything you want.

⠀ ⠀If he finds a way to at least convince the higher ups to be given missions that require your presence - he could convince them that he shall be your temporary, no, longterm mentor - then he could be everything for you, and you could care for him too. You both could depend on each other, and he won't be so lonely, no? Won't feel so utterly useless, with no meaning to live life. You could be the very reason he still maintains his cool, the reason why he hasn't killed off those monkeys yet.

⠀ ⠀He will find a way.

⠀ ⠀Geto Suguru always finds a way. He is, after all, a jujutsu sorcerer.

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⠀ ⠀And so you were suddenly wormed beside Geto once more, though you were convinced that this wouldn't be the last time you will be paired with the mysterious man who keeps a composed smile, opposite to when you first met him. His eyebags, too, were smaller, like he has been regaining sleep once more. You couldn't deny that it made him even more handsome than your first impression of him.

⠀ ⠀His curt smile broke into a beam once he noticed you eyeing him up and down.

⠀ ⠀Compared to last time, he seemed healthier. Was there something that induced a sudden change in him? Of course, you can't really assume anything since you have met him only once, but there's something about him that you couldn't pin-point. Despite shining brighter than before - you could describe him akin to the serene atmosphere of winter - there was a hidden undertone to him that scorches you, and you don't know why but you chose to ignore it in favor of prioritizing the newly assigned mission.

⠀ ⠀Looking back, the superiors' evaluation of you suddenly increased; and now you were paired with the special grade again, with no arbitrary explanation as to why him specifically. But it didn't really affect you personally, so there's no need to worry about anything.

⠀ ⠀In the blink of an eye, he was meticulously closer to you, right hand finding its way to your chin as his index finger beckons you to stare into his eyes. He mutters something under his breath, words you couldn't catch on. Then his smile grew wider than ever, you couldn't deny that it charmed even you.

⠀ ⠀"You sure do love staring at me, huh?" Despite the back of his fingers tenderly rubbing the sides of your chin, you couldn't bring it in yourself to pull back, a magnetic force compelling you to linger in your compromising position. Noticing barely any signs of discomfort, Geto's left hand finds itself holding your right and he brings it up near your chest and squeezes it affectionately.

⠀ ⠀Is he flirting with you?

⠀ ⠀"You must be undressing me with your eyes." He purrs, taking it further and kissing your knuckles whilst maintaining eye-contact with you. To that, you unhurriedly take your hand away from his grip (you swear that you nearly feel his clasp on you tightening for a slight second), and chuckled lightly.

⠀ ⠀Your response was curt, "Well, it feels like you are doing the same thing, no?" It's as if you were pretending the abrupt, sensual action he did didn't affect you one bit. He is, you couldn't deny one bit, incredibly attractive and you'd love to reciprocate the flirting but a reminder that he was a year above you and that you barely even know him clashes its way to your mind. And, for the most part, you only met him once. In that one singular meeting did he not display such provocative insinuations. It was just now that there was a sudden fondness that was triggered.

⠀ ⠀Can you really stand your ground against such a courteous man? Although he was a tad raunchy, maybe it wasn't only towards you? Does it really matter?

⠀ ⠀You're overthinking it, you figured as you snap out of your trance. Looking back at Geto once more, you gaze at him, leisurely, with not a negative thought but instead with goals aligning to your mission once more.

⠀ ⠀It was back again, your tender visage salted with rationale mentality. You've no knowledge about Suguru's increasing fondness of you, but you do know you would, by all odds, reciprocate his adoration of you soon enough.

⠀ ⠀Geto Suguru is a man who works between the line of preservation and consumption. To preserve the preciousness of human lives is a goal he doubts, and to consume curses is an everyday activity he comes to dread— but he was willing to preserve only your life whilst ultimately letting the image of you consume him.

⠀ ⠀Instead of you treating him to a snack before your mission, you find yourself entangled with Geto-kun - he insists on you calling him informally albeit the short time spent together - in your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite foods and beverages, and chattering with him casually as "friends" do— after the mission. You were about to refuse his invitation but you halted as you were well aware that you did the same for him and it would be hypocritical of you.

⠀ ⠀Geto snickered lightly at your modest display, but was most definitely pleased as he reiterated what you said at your first meeting.

⠀ ⠀"Your stomach grumbled on our way out. You should eat, my treat. After all, a way to a man's heart is through food, yes?"

⠀ ⠀At that statement, you smacked him lightly in the arms and glared, amused, at him with thin lips— your expression then broke out into a laugh as you walked alongside him.

⠀ ⠀At least you could confidently say that by the end of the night that you had thoroughly enjoyed conversing with him. He was not only intellectual with words, but he was persuasive all throughout your debates with him in the restaurant. There were moments you disagreed with his sentiments, especially about humans born with no cursed energy, as you did. Though if you were to weigh it all out, you have made more agreements with him than disagreements and you weren't afraid to voice out your reasonings without invalidating him; he seemed to really like that about you, as you note his pleasant smile all throughout. He never broke his eye-contact with you too, eyes following your mouth forming the counterarguments whilst also acknowledging his assertions.

⠀ ⠀This was the first time in a while that actually liked the concept of debates, since Geto was so pleasing, so receptive of the things you say; like every word matters.

⠀ ⠀You really, really like this man.

⠀ ⠀Since you're aware of the new position assigned to you as his colleague despite not being in the same grade— you find yourself wishing for these "dates" to occur more often by the near future. And by future, you mean at least every week.

⠀ ⠀Perhaps it was a shared sentiment, but you really do feel a spark between you two, a linked closeness that transcends more than just acquaintances despite it being a second meeting. Or... you are perhaps consumed by fatigue from the mission as it is trickier by default when you find yourself working with a special grade.

⠀ ⠀And... Maybe your brain was too preoccupied, but you have never once had the thought of Geto knowing all your favorites cross your mind.

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⠀ ⠀Hours turn into days, days into weeks, and finally weeks turn months— and within that time frame did Geto Suguru experience a blizzard of emotions. All these burst inside of him like fireworks blazing through the midnight sky.

⠀ ⠀Everything was going well with you, of course. Every single day was a period of time where he was able to keep track of you; the time you wake up, eat, shower, even sleep. He knew your hobbies, too, after visiting your dorm whensoever. He even memorized the smell of your room, the various trinkets plastered around your walls, he could locate your bed without hesitation even with a blindfold— Geto could even recall the spots where the early sunlight hits your bed.

⠀ ⠀Every moment spent with you was an opportunity to know you better, on more personal levels. He was the first to know about your habits, those that you typically hide at face value, the ones you were embarrassed to show to your friends— ones only he (not even you were aware) notices and treasures.

⠀ ⠀It was only fair that he lets you know about him in an equal amount. After all, every known boundary he has ever set were practically nonexistent when it comes to you.

⠀ ⠀So he lets you in on his deepest darkest secrets. He whispers to you, nightly, about his interests, about his passions, about his greatest fears— the one thing he fears the most, one he has never told anyone; not his family, not his friends, nobody but you— is the alienation he feels from everyone. He has been through everything, he tasted death, and no one could relate to the taste of rot, not even his closest friends. Only you would know, you'll be the only one who holds his heart in your hand, even if he knows that you could betray him at any given moment.

⠀ ⠀But you won't.

⠀ ⠀He tells you all about all the vulnerable parts of him in hopes of garnering your attention on him. And yes you did, every part of you felt pity for him, and he loves the way you react. Geto loves your expressions. Loves the way your face twists to disgust one time, when he described what a mouthful of curses taste like. Or when you'd press your body behind him (he loves just how much you trust him enough to be intimately close to him), arms wrapped around his back, eyes tightly closed, and mouth slightly agape as the cool breeze of the air hits your face violently, as he flew both of you to take an arial view of the city at night, using a curse, of course.

⠀ ⠀Every face you make, obscure or not, triggers intense reactions from the man. So much so he feels like he could die from perspiration the first time you reciprocated his flirting, by kissing his cheeks, taking him aback. Goodness, he won't ever let anything get in between you two, and he most definitely would never forget the instance you smiled lopsidedly at him right after, a slight flush on your face.

⠀ ⠀Menial conversations became in depth discussions when it came to you, even if your responses would sometimes have frivolous undertones in them; Geto would still want to crawl deeper into your brain, have a need to disect every single information you know. Every course of action you make, the black-haired man would always find examples to love about you. Sometimes, it feels like you're a specimen living under his care, but God does he worship you like you are divine in every way.

⠀ ⠀And Geto wasn't merely a special grade sorcerer for nothing (and they are known for using eccentric methods to get what they want). He was right to assume that the more he initiated on displaying his liking for you, through actions especially, the more you grow increasingly fond of him, but not to his levels of... obsession.

⠀ ⠀But you bask in the attention of your sensual sorcerer, so it wasn't a surpise that, well—

⠀ ⠀It only took a little bit of time to pass - though it felt a very long period of Geto; he had to remind himself that patience and perseverance is key - and then suddenly you two were finally official.

⠀ ⠀And like lovebirds, everywhere you went, you were accompanied by Geto. Hand holding, hands on your waist, eyes finding its way to look at only you, even if there is another person in the room trying to talk to him— it's like he wants to connect himself to you in every way possible. You don't mind it at all, though, already aware enough of his circumstances when it comes to attachment issues.

⠀ ⠀You have been so close before, but even more intimate now, to the point his colleagues and teachers alike were aware of your tight-knit relationship. Even Gojo Satoru, resident tormentor of Jujutsu Tech, teased Geto about his increasing PDA with you, often guffawing in the background whenever he spots you two inseperably cuddling and pressing kisses into each other's cheeks like immature, hormonal teens.

⠀ ⠀You had even slept in the same bed as him.

⠀ ⠀When he woke up the next day, with your head nuzzled into the crevice of his neck, his arms squeezing your body against his, warm sheets entangling both of you together like a cocoon... When you utter random noises in your sleep, snuggling closer to him whenever your dreams become unpleasant... He watches over your slumbering form, sometimes even shifts to make sure you're in a better position, to make sure that the duvet covers you entirely.

⠀ ⠀Geto has never thanked any being above, never intended to, believing that sorcerers are the truly divine beings that humankind should worship— but he laudes whoever is out there, his ancestors perhaps, that for once he was endowed with someone beyond anything he would ever want. You are everything Geto needs in his life.

⠀ ⠀So why is it that..?

⠀ ⠀With everything going so well, so perfect...

⠀ ⠀It was all so perfect until...

⠀ ⠀The notion of prosperity came tumbling down, like a world-ending meteor, when one of his close juniors died from a curse, with his fellow partner in the mission suffering gravely after him. Haibara Yu, a bubbly underclassman who you was also your classmate, so it was no doubt that you, too, grieved.

⠀ ⠀He never wants to see that solemn expression in your face again...

⠀ ⠀The lump of flesh that was presented to Shoko Ieri and the other students, all shoved inside a cadaver bag, reeked of flesh— a scent all jujutsu sorcerers were accustomed to, but never coped with if they bare the knowledge that that someone is familiar with them. He shouldn't have been so affected; in ways where despite caring for his junior... He feels a mixture of animosity brimming inside him.

⠀ ⠀He shouldn't have been so jealous of a corpse gaining the slightest bit of your spotlight, shouldn't be so envious of the way you spill tears over someone else... But most importantly, he hates it when you'd be stuck in a dissociative trance afterwards, just like the one he was in when Riko died.

⠀ ⠀Everything snaps the moment he remembers his discussion with that fellow blonde-haired special grade, the dead-beat who never did her job. Geto didn't enjoy conversing with her, finding her reasonings meaningless, her words of persuasion only reserved for her interests. He didn't indulge in her as he did you. But that particular conversation cemented itself in his brain, and now he's stuck with questions swirling his mind, questions he knew would be answered with vehement solutions.

⠀ ⠀Then he was back at it again, after rediscovering his memories, in a spiral of neverending speculation. Why do sorcerers need to protect those foul monkeys? Why is it that it is the sorcerers who have to adjust to the norm? Why are they regarded as the odd bunch? Why do they have to die for useless beings lower than them?

⠀ ⠀Amidst all the questioning he does, there were relevant ones that struck a particular nerve in him.

⠀ ⠀It all circles back to you. You, you, you.

⠀ ⠀Why would it not be you?

⠀ ⠀And what if...

⠀ ⠀What if you had died instead of Haibara?

⠀ ⠀Tears, salty and brimming with bitter feelings, for the first time in ages, trickled out his eyes, sliding uncomfortable against shivering skin. Uncontrollable and inevitable. What came with despair was also hysteria.

⠀ ⠀He couldn't cope with that idea. No, not at all— he wants to extinguish the very possibility that you, of all people, could die very early just because— because you would forfeit your life for worthless ones. You're way more than just a sacrificial lamb; you're Geto's everything. He couldn't afford to lose you, couldn't even grasp the prospect of your death.

⠀ ⠀The shower water plummeled down his head like a hailstorm, to his torso, until it nipped on his feet with its unforgiving frost.

⠀ ⠀But he knows you. He's aware that despite the rocky relationship you have with your family, or the demeaning comments from your supposed friends, that you would die for those untalented monsters. You're too considerate. He wants that consideration all for himself.

⠀ ⠀ He hates it, he hates everything whenever you consider everyone but yourself. He will take care of it, of you. But how could he? Not when you insist on sitting quietly and receiving all those harsh treatments forced on you.

⠀ ⠀ He has never felt so helpless before. It devours him, inside and out, like insects crawling on his skin, nipping and biting flesh— like he himself was merely a corpse for maggots to pig through.

⠀ ⠀ It's almost class time, and even if he dreads coming to the class of three (minus one, as Gojo is now consistently busy with missions), burden running down his spine at the notion that you would be in a separate class.

⠀ ⠀Geto overlooked the fact that, despite suffering from the solitude of the bathroom showers, he isn't as alone as he thought, not anymore. For in his misery, you share the sentiment.

⠀ ⠀ You await him, in his room, eyes sore from incessant tears, body especially nearly letting you down after countless bouts of harming yourself over being unable to comfort your boyfriend over his turmoil. Yet you're unwavering from your seated position, ready to confront your boyfriend shall he ever lead into a path of self destruction.

⠀ ⠀Geto stumbled out of the showers, somber mind neglecting the very schedule he has plastered all over his head, a display of utter patheticness. At this time of the day, you were always loitering around his dorm.

⠀ ⠀ How could he have forgotten? As he rubs fatigue off his eyes, he ceased in his tracks, ears picking up a slight wringing. His wet hair drenched the t-shirt he threw on, but the sharp, frore water isn't the cause of his shivering— it's you, who he saw in the corner of his eyes, sat on his bed.

⠀ ⠀He should've expected it, it was already part of your daily routine to visit him, yet it still shook him when he found a blob of your hair color in his peripheral vision— so much so to the point that even breathing betrayed him.

⠀ ⠀Why was he crying again?

⠀ ⠀ There's no other way to describe Geto's situation, other than that of a trapped dear, with no way to outrun a speeding car in the middle of the road— but you're not the type to harm him - maybe in bed you would, pleasurably - but you wouldn't hurt him because you wanted to. Yet he still fears showcasing vulnerability, afraid of betrayal, especially from you. So all he could do was stand, feet losing sensation, unable to move an inch; to even breath was to move, and he couldn't.

⠀ ⠀ But it was you who cut into the thick atmosphere, standing up, footsteps unheard, towards Geto who was rooted on the floor, body tense.

⠀ ⠀ The first thing he saw when he glanced up with ruddy eyes was your gentle gaze.

⠀ ⠀ He visibly relaxed, albeit unmoving. It doesn't matter, though, not to you at least— because you see his tear-stained cheeks and puffy, tired eyes and uptight body that tells you he won't be emotionally recovering soon. You want do to nothing more other than to spoon him wholly and tell him you'll deal with everything. But you can't. You can't because you're not of the same status as him, not strong enough you stress. And you can't because you're tired, too, just like him and all the others, but especially him. And although you tell yourself that you're an intrepid Jujutu sorcerer who should bare no weaknesses; you can break as easily as the others.

⠀ ⠀ But you have to be strong for him.

⠀ ⠀ Holding his hands in yours, you give it a gentle squeeze, looking down on him with loving eyes. You beat him to it, beat him at his game and questioned him if he's alright, if he needed space to think. To which his answer was to strongly grip your palm a second after the question, gaze hardened on you, as a confirmation that he did not, in fact, want you out his room, for others to look at you and comfort you.

⠀ ⠀ You ask him what's wrong, only for you to sputter back and tell him that he's not obligated to answer any of your questions should he not be stable enough.

⠀ ⠀ Not a single response... You ask again, eyes now harboring a demand for answers, but there's nothing.

⠀ ⠀ Slight irritation follows your countenance when all you were met with was silence...

⠀ ⠀Then your stark personality displays itself once more, your voice a deeper octave as you palm his face and stare deeply into his eyes; he falls in love all over again That's when you began mumbling to him, like you're sharing secrets nobody else could access. When you tell him that he has every right to grieve and be frustrated at the same time, that he shouldn't hold back tears; he felt bare naked in front of you. But you weren't scrutinizing him, even if all that comes out your mouth is the truth, ones that should've hurt him for making him feel defenseless in the arms of danger, but didn't. Because those words were from you.

⠀ ⠀Your word is God, and he calms down just enough to stare back at you, shaky figure and everything, and brings his hands to cup your palm, rubbing lovingly.

⠀ ⠀ You peck his cheeks, giggling when you felt the sheer wetness it was drowned in. But before you could pull back as quickly, Geto's head moved faster to kiss your mouth, passionate and seering, hands resting on your waist. It took a few seconds of nuzzling into each other, but it felt like eternity before he withdrawed, palms tenderly rubbing your cheeks.

⠀ ⠀Geto Suguru didn't just love you— he loves you, every part of you. And he decides, from now on, whether you'd consent or not, that you'll never leave him. Familial bonds are nothing to you, now that your parents have finally passed away (and you've no idea on their cause of death, nor the fact that they were brutally mauled by an amalgation of curses), your friends are nothing compared to him— you are the- the only one that matters to him, and he wishes you would reciprocate that notion.

⠀ ⠀So a choice (one where you, perhaps, will never have a say in) was set in Geto's persistent mind; now or never.

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⠀ ⠀Geto hopes you would forgive him after everything. He hopes that you wouldn't mind it if you were to be permanently separated from the entire civilization, only to be admired by his greedy eyes.

⠀ ⠀ 'Protect human lives?' No, he will not even spare a glance at to those monkeys. He'd prioritizes on a new goal— to protect your life, firstly. From any harm, any danger; from something as small like a prick of a needle to even death itself.

⠀ ⠀ He loves it when you look at him, eyes shining with adoration every time he saves you from momentary danger. So he'll do it again. Though, only now will you be permanently safe, where no filthy nothings may lay hands on you.

⠀ ⠀He hopes that you wouldn't notice how he has an apartment set up just for both of you, that you wouldn't wonder why all your belongings - that were left in your bygone, desolate house - were now moved into the multisectioned rooms designed just for your taste.

⠀ ⠀ He sets a date on his calendar for the day you would be relocated in a new space far more homely and spacious than the dorms in Jujutsu Tech.

⠀ ⠀ By the time the moon engulfs the sky with its dim light, he'd drug your favorite dinner whilst you're comfortably oblivious to his ministrations. He'll be conversing with you while sometimes feeding you portions of his food, as couples always do (except for the part his tongue would linger a bit long on his chopstick after he fed you with it), laughing tenderly with each others' jokes and simply enjoying the solitude of being together... Then after a while you would be too hazy to comprehend anything, and Geto, being your ever-so loving boyfriend, will guide you to your now shared dormitory, and he'll tuck you in, not after you briefly snuggle with him in bed— and, well, he didn't want to get up from your tight embrace. But he has to, for the sake of your safety and his sanity.

⠀ ⠀ The travel would be made as smooth as possible, with silent promises that you won't even feel a wee bit of discomfort despite your heavily drugged state; he'll guarantee you won't awake from your slumber— he would curse himself if he wasn't gentle with your while you were in your most vulnerable state. The look he has on his face as he stares at your closed eyes and stable breathing is so soothing, just like all the times you've treated him nicely. He'll be so... so good to you. He'll secure himself with the position as the only one you'll ever need in your life. If he can't abide by his promises, then he doesn't deserve to be called your lover.

⠀ ⠀ You'll- you'll give him another chance, wouldn't you? Even if the chances see your friends (they're unworthy of your presence, never appreciating you for all the things you've done for them) or family (as if you have any to come back to; he eliminated those worthless beings) would be zero— you'll understand, no?

⠀ ⠀ You don't have to do any arduous chores inside the apartment. Everything would be given to you as long as you stay with him. Everything. You'll be granted limited access to internet, with all your history rooted into his tracking devices— though you'd have every means of entertainment you want. Food isn't a problem, your device would only have access to Geto's phone, so you could call him any time your stomach buzzes with hunger, and the fridge is always stocked with your favorite snacks. Every hobby you would garner would be indulged in— you had once briefly mentioned your interests in crocheting, but never having the opportunity to due to clashing schedules between school and personal life. Now is the perfect opportunity to do anything, as long as it stays within his radar.

⠀ ⠀ All you have to do is, as hard as it may be, is to accept your new living environment. Nothing else would change, even if you choose to fight him back at first— because Geto loves you, and he'll deny his heart the turmoil of ever losing you.

⠀ ⠀ So once you'd arise from the bed with an unfamiliar, yet cozy blanket, (that he bought specifically catering to your tastes), he would be at your beck and call before you could even properly sit up (still sober from the heavy dosage of sedatives your boyfriend forced on you without your knowledge).

⠀ ⠀ Any concerns you would ask, it would be entertained with Geto plastering a silvery smile, even if your tone harbored unease. If tears ever came running down your eyes, Geto wouldn't shut you up, but he definitely wouldn't leave you be, to your thoughts alone - like he was back then - not at all. He'd approach you so steadily, careful if you'd flinch the slightest bit once his legs hit the mattress, and he'll hold you so tightly (worst part is, you've no chains or ropes tied on your limbs, no evident scars that was whilst Geto was on the process of kidnapping you. You have nothing to be mad about. He is just so gentle), apologizing profusely as if he wasn't the reason why you're even weeping in the first place once he thoroughly explained the reason for your abduction.

⠀ ⠀ He hates it when you cry, but God does he love it when, despite susceptible state of anguish, you'd reciprocate his hold; as if even your mind, body, and heart couldn't deny that it ultimately belonged to Geto.

⠀ ⠀ So you have to bargain your way through this, not out of it— you're logical enough to know your strengths and weaknesses and you know that in terms of strength, your lover would win. You know him better than everything, and you don't accept easy defeat, you want to fight your way out of this but... The look of adulation in Geto's eyes is way too familiar, that you're the one falling in love again, albeit the strange circumstances.

⠀ ⠀ Then you weigh everything that has been happening for the past for months, and all the signs hits you in the damn face. Geto didn't flirt with you with the intentions of playing with your heart as you have thought so in your second meeting— because if he did, he wouldn't have known all your favorites, didn't say all the words you wanted to hear. He planned everything from the start. Yet you don't feel an ounce of malice from him, you didn't do anything wrong— you weren't abducted because he wanted to torture you; you were abducted because he wants you. For himself, away from the world that wants to tear you to shreds. You brought this onto yourself, so willing to give your heart and soul to the man you thought you love, the man you still do love.

⠀ ⠀ Fuck. A new batch of tears painted your already tear-stained face. You stare at him, his furrowed brows, his handsomely sculpted countenance - the one you held so fondly, kissed a thousand times, worshipped eternally - yours so incredulous, so filled with utter disarray. Why do you forgive him after everything? Why, nothing more or less, do you want him to tell you everything is alright, since he's there for you?

⠀ ⠀ Perhaps it's the emotions building inside you that bursts like a dam. The resentment you built upon your childhood, or the tears you've wasted on past crushes, or the whole entire world pressuring you to endure through its own faults. Maybe you were similar to him in more ways than one.

And maybe that's why instead of convincing him to let you go, you tell him you won't be going anywhere. His appalled reaction motioned you to continue, to tell him that you're tired, of life, of everything that's been going on so far. You never wanted to be a sorcerer, but you've no choice lest you wish to sleep on the cold sidewalk of the streets. Every single day was constant pressure, dread that one day you may be disposed of by the high school you reside in shall you ever display a single flaw.

All the built up secrets that you confided in him shattered his heart to pieces. And it breaks him even more knowing he shares the same sentiment with you. No more. The abrupt kiss to your mouth promptly shut you up, before you could even continue, and you let it be. You willingly open your mouth when he softly nibbled on the bottom of your lips, wet tongue already attacked by another the moment his entered your mouth. The bitter ache in your heart receded. You let him be.

There was nothing inherently sexual with his and your actions, it was nothing but romantic in your eyes. Tongues entwining, saliva mixing, choaked moans, and all doubts and burdens ceasing in one heated moment— your kisses never lasted long, nor did it ever lead into a make-out so intense like you're both fusing; but it's exactly what you need right now: To get drunk off the passion of Geto's heavy lips and the lack of oxygen that comes after...

It's enough to make you sleepy, as you gently push your boyfriends slightly ruddy face off of you, at a distance where he was close enough that your noses could still touch. Your face flushes even more at the string of saliva interconnecting both your mouths, but your eyes find itself back into his already piercing eyes, clouded with dizzying passion. Every part of you feels like it would burst into flames the more you relish under his intense gaze, so you opted to move quickly and bury your head into the side of neck, hands lazily plastered on his waist, mouth readily nearing his ears. He reciprocated your actions, chuckling fondly at your affectionate gestures as his knees adjusted to pin both your thighs together, whilst his arms act as a cage to trap you against his chest.

Before you could utter a word, Geto beats you to it, telling you that you should both sleep already. Despite you having been knocked out for an entire day, with a buzzing headache and numb limbs, it's no doubt you were still tired, and he was too... You move your head from the comfortable position nested on his shoulders and look back at him, at the small eyebags that once again found itself on his face— it takes you back to when you first met him. Burnt out, mellow, but undeniably handsome. You kissed him again, shorter and sweeter this time, nodding as you shifted to lay on the bed, leaving space for Geto, who is still seated, watching you with an indiscernible expression.

Beckoning for him him drowsily, to join you, you've promptly felt the confines of sleep taking you further into the world of dreams. Dreams where you'd wake up with your loving and compassionate Geto, rather than that of escaping the cage he set up for you. It took a few seconds for your boyfriend to finally move, laying down beside you with arms creeping to your waist. Not a single word was said, only the ruffling of the blanket was heard. You're the one who spoons him when it comes to sleeping in a shared bed together, but his hands found itself moving your head to his chest - the thumping of his heart entrapped in his ribcage tells you he's calm enough, trusting that you won't escape from his ministrations - as though to tell you that only you can have his heart in your hands, nobody else. It didn't take long for you to slowly shut your eyes once more, admitting that his heartbeats was a comforting source for slumber.

⠀ ⠀'You're just so adorable,' he thinks to himself, drifting into the same land of dreams as you, holding you tightly and never letting go.

⠀ ⠀ ...

⠀ ⠀ Geto Suguru is a man of a few words, who dons a plethora of promises, shall you ever be wanting. When he first saw you whilst looking through your files, he at first thought you were average, unmemorable by standards. But even in first impressions would there always be a magnetic draw, strong enough to make it last eternally. (Un)fortunately for you, Geto has always loved you without even knowing it, and the way your first night together - you being away from the tainted hands of civilization - was beyond tranquil, unnatural traits from a prey who was taken unwillingly.

⠀ ⠀ But nothing else matters. Not the concept of healthy relationships, nor the opinions of family or friends, and most certainly not the ridiculing of society's norms.

⠀ ⠀ Nothing matters other than the two bodies entangling themselves on a bed for two, settling in for the night, as lovers do.

Fin.

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— PLEASE ! Leave comments, follow me and share this to anybody if you enjoyed this one-shot. It would be appreciated greatly. I've been through writer's block for nearly a year or two now, and writing this helped me combat it. I thoroughly enjoyed making this, and I hope that it's good enough for the readers too! It took me very long to write all these out, as I am rusty wirh writing (and I struggle with English), but really, I would appreciate interaction and likes over anything else! I might publish this as a stand-alone one-shot in a separate book. As always, don't hesitate to request! Thank you for reading this!

26.1 Pages

Published: 02/25/2024

Word Count: 9100+ words

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#.devilwrites #. jujutsu kaisen #.geto suguru #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #Yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere geto #yandere geto suguru #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere male x reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x you #yandere suguru geto #dark yandere #sub yandere

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bambikisss · 1 year ago

Text

Dream Ride : C. Seung Cheol

🎶:: HOT - Seventeen, Bark like you want it- SirMixAlot

🖤 :: Strangers to lovers, blonde SeungCheol, motorcycle! SeungCheol, nonidol! SeungCheol

��:: You haven't been able to sleep much lately, so you've been driving around at night to help ease your mind. However, you keep passing by the same jet black colored motorcycle every night, which then keeps showing up in your dreams. So when you stop one night to get gas and see the same motorcycle stopped nearby, you decide to meet the man under the helmet.

❤️ :: Unprotected Sex (always wrap it up), slight biting, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving),slight size kink (I mean SeungCheol is big soo-) nicknames used (baby, babygirl, princess, angel), slight mix of soft dom/ hard dom, fucking till "dumb", SeungCheol's big di-

Bambi's note: Hello everyone! I recently took a bit of a break as I had some things that I just had to take care of. But, while I was gone, I kept thinking about SeungCheol so here is what was in my mind all this time while I was gone. It is a bit longer than usual, but trust me, it's worth it.

REBLOGS / COMMENTS ARE ENCOURAGED | NOT PROOFREAD

You used to love the night. Now, you hated it more than anything.

You worked hard all day at an office job that had you thinking often if it was worth quitting it or not before always deciding that in today's economy, you needed this job.

So getting home after work should be what you look forward to, right?

You wished.

You would often return home from work in a daze, kicking off your shoes before you fell face first into your sofa, screaming your heart out into the cushions before you would finally go about your night routine: take a shower, cook dinner, clean up, mentally prepare yourself for work tomorrow, and finally sleep. But, as of recently, that last part didn't seem to come to you so easily. You would seemingly toss and turn for hours on end, your body not wanting to give in and let you rest like you ever so desperately wanted.

You would eventually sit up, put on a hoodie and shorts, grab your car keys, and go for a drive. You don't know why you often went for a drive to clear your head before you slept, the idea coming to your head after watching a random late night show and a celebrity talked about doing it. You then became instantly influenced and now it became a habit.

You felt at ease as you passed the street lights at a leisurely pace, some random R&B playing through your car's speakers as you admired the night scenery. You had to hand it to that celebrity; you did feel much calmer than before. You felt like you were in a movie. You often wondered why life couldn't be like this often, why your mind couldn't just let you rest without having to drive around the empty streets. It was as if your mind was searching for something that the empty night roads could only answer.

As you pulled up to a red light, preparing to go home before your thoughts became even deeper, you heard the sound of a familiar rumble of a motorcycle. You turned your head to the side to see a beautiful black motorcycle pull up beside you, the city lights reflecting off of it's surface as a man sat perched on it. You always saw that same motorcycle out during your nightly drives, offering the man a friendly wave before going your separate ways when the light turns green. It somehow comforted you knowing that someone else was up so late, needing a night drive too.

Once you arrived home, you tossed away your keys before dragging your finally tired body back to your bed, getting comfortable back in your sheets before closing your eyes with a small smile on your face as you finally fall asleep.

~.~

"Fuck"

Your voice was just above a whisper as you felt his hands move up your legs, pressing your hips back down against the mattress as his long tongue moves along your wet slit before dipping into you, curling the tip of his tongue as you arch your back. It felt so good, your eyes closing as you feel the man moaning against you, his deep voice praising you as he confidently eats you out. You can't help but grab his hair, your eyes still closed as your legs tighten around his head, your hips rutting against his face as you felt your orgsam approaching quickly.

"Yes, Yes"

Right before your orgsam can fully wash over you, though, your eyes snap open to the sound of your alarm clock letting you know that it's time to get ready for work. You sigh before tossing your head back in frustration against your pillow, your body slowly calming down from the heat of your dream before you sit up again. As you ran your hands through your hair, your mind flashes back to the dream you were ripped from. It all felt so real, yet not.

"I can't keep having this dream"

You've been having the same dream with the same mystery man for a while now. All you could remember seeing was his muscular arms and his muscular chest and legs, but never his face. You could even remember his blonde hair, but that's it. You often wondered why you never saw his face, but knew that whoever your mind had conjured up was good with his tongue and hands, always driving you so close to an orgsam right before you woke up.

You sighed as you finished getting ready for work, your mind (and body) thinking about that man and the night dream you were going to have again.

~.~

"Maybe he was someone I had seen in a movie before?"

You sat in your car once more as you tried to figure out who that man was. You didn't even try to sleep tonight, deciding to go straight for the night drive so that you could get more sleep. You bit your lip as the sunset slowly turned into night as you drove, your mind busy as you tried to piece together the man in your mind from the parts of him you did see; his muscular arm and biceps, his veiny hands, his blonde hair, his strong body...

"Shit, really?" You cursed softly as you noticed your fuel light come on, letting you know that you need to stop and get fuel soon. You sigh, turning into a nearby gas station. Maybe you were just over thinking it, maybe he was just some wet fantasy your mind thought of out of thin air. You move out of your car, going inside to pay before returning outside.

As you walk outside, you suddenly notice the same jet black motorcycle you always see out on the road at night parked in front of your own car at a different pump. This was your first time seeing it so up close and in an actual light other than the faint street lights and moonlight. You couldn't help but admire it as you walked closer, noticing how clean yet sleek it looked. You didn't understand why you were so suddenly interested in the motorcycle, but you couldn't look away. You slowly reached out to touch it, the tip of your finger moving along the seat as you felt a shiver move through you.

"Do you like it?" You jump at the sound of a deep male voice, turning to face the man, an apology already half way out of your lips when your eyes meet the face of the nightrider.

You couldn't help but pause when you met his face, softly cursing under your breath as your mind pieced together where you mind was getting the random man in your dreams from. You admired his tight white tshirt, his muscular arms and biceps on display along with his tight jeans. Your eyes moved around him, noticing his gloved hands, one hand holding his black leather wallet while the other held his matching black helmet. When your eyes soon moved back up to meet his eyes again, you noticed his blonde hair blowing in the wind, one of his eyebrows raised at your silence and lack of response.

He was the man your mind had kept putting into your dreams.

You jumped again when he cleared his throat, another apology leaving your lips as you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the memories of your wet night dreams, your mind now placing his face on the figure that was often in between your legs.

You needed help.

While you apologized, the man chuckled, shaking his head before he walked closer to you, placing his helmet down onto his bike handle before placing both of his hands onto your shoulder, waiting till you opened your eyes before he spoke, his voice deep as he says "It's alright. You can admire it all you'd like, princess."

You felt your knees almost buckle at not only his voice, but the way he called you princess. Your mind then flashed back to a dream where you faintly heard his voice as he kissed up your thighs, whispering "you look so pretty for me, Princess. It's time to feel good." You originally thought your mind was just choosing a voice it knew you found sexy, but after hearing it from his mouth, it made you wonder not only when you heard his voice, but how your mind knew to add it to the dream.

"So, you're the woman I keep passing by late at night when I go on my nightly rides, huh?" You snapped out of your thoughts as you nodded, noticing how he was now admiring you car. It wasn't anything too special, but was a pretty white, shinning compared to his dark motorcycle. "Yeah, you must be the guy who always stops at the same stoplight as me right before I go home." You chose to hold back mentioning how he was also the man in your dreams getting your near your orgsam right before you woke up. You didn't want to deal with that embarrassment.

He nodded, his mind flashing back to the many nights he's pulled up by your car, looking over to see you give him a tired yet friendly wave before the light turned green. He always appreciated your kindness, even though you were always so tired. He often felt worried about you, though, sometimes thinking about getting off his bike to check on you, but never doing so. But, now that you were right in front of him, he couldn't help but admire you. You looked so different in the brighter lights than in your dim car and street lights, no, you looked much happier.

You suddenly held out your hand, not wanting this moment to be wasted as you introduced yourself to him. He smiled at you before his larger hand gently cupped yours, shaking it as he said "Nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I'm SeungCheol." You smiled at his own smile, both of your hands still holding each others for a bit longer before you slowly removed it from his, laughing softly as SeungCheol let out a small "ah" in embarrassment before chuckling. He seemed so sweet despite what you may have thought due to his choice of vehicle. You needed to learn to not judge a book by it's cover, you guessed.

As you both began to pump gas, you both made small talk, getting to know one another and enjoying each other's company. It felt nice, almost natural as you both spoke. Soon SeungCheol finished pumping gas into his motorcycle, moving to lean against the pump as you both continued talking. He felt no need to speed off as no one else was there and he wanted to get to know you more. He smiled as you laughed at something he said before he decided it was time to ask the question that was on his mind since he first saw you out driving at night.

"So, Y/N, if you don't mind me asking, why do you drive around so late at night?" You hummed at his question before you shrugged, turning to face him as you put your gas pump back. "As of lately, I haven't really been able to sleep well, so I just started driving. It helped me clear my head, so I guess I just kept doing it I guess."

"Is it because of your dreams?" At SeungCheol's question, you instantly shake your head, making him laugh. If only he knew, you thought.

"So you're just trying to get tired? Ah, well you must have some great dreams then" SeungCheol watched your face at his words, noticing how your cheeks seem to heat up at his comment. He couldn't help but feel more interested, a playful smile moving onto his lips as he asks "what are you dreaming about anyways, Y/N?" You at first don't respond, not wanting to give away that you had been dreaming about him for the past couple of weeks.

"What about you? Why do you ride so late at night?" You shake off his question with one of your own, making him chuckle. He obliges, though, saying "Well, I like how empty the roads are at that time. I sometimes get a bit anxious about riding around so many people or high traffic areas, so I just ride then." You nod, meeting his eyes again with a smile before he walks closer to you, a small smirk on his face as he notices your eyes moving to once again look over his body. There was something about you that he couldn't shake, it made him feel excited, hot, wanted.

"So, are you going to tell me what you've been dreaming about or do I have to guess, Y/N?" You couldn't help but bite you lip as SeungCheol continued to walk closer to you, making you back up against your car. You suddenly felt your back become pressed against your car as his strong chest pressed against yours, his gloved hands moving to press against your hips, pressing you fully against the car as his eyes met yours, slowly darkening as he repeated his question, this time slower. You felt your body heat up due to the contact and the way his eyes met yours, your mind constantly thinking back to your dreams. With how forward he was being and with how good his hands felt on your hips, your mind felt all too cloudy to even think about what you said next.

"How about I show you?"

~.~

The front door swung open as your lips once again locked with SeungCheol's, his helmet and riding jacket becoming discarded somewhere on the floor as your hands grip his face, pulling him into you as he kicks the door to your house closed. You felt like you were in one of your nightly wet dreams, your mind feeling light headed as his hands roughly gripped your thighs before picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist as his tongue meets yours, the kiss becoming loud and wet as he gruffly asks against your lips "bedroom. Where, angel?"

You pointed in the direction of your bedroom, not even bothering to remove your lips from his as he chuckles, carrying you in the direction of the bedroom, kicking the door open before placing you against the wall. SeungCheol felt like he had to feel more of you, not even bothering to carry you to the bed, beginning to strip you against the wall as his lips moved down your neck. You gasp as his teeth meets your neck before his dreamy tongue moved to soothe the bite, his hands moving to toss away your top and sweats, leaving your pressed against him wearing nothing but your underwear.

"Damn, baby, you should've just told me you were just dreaming about me like this. I would've pleased you right there in your car" You moaned at his words, his kisses moving across your neck before he pulled back, pulling you up higher against the wall with a deep grunt before diving back in to press kisses against the tops of your breasts. "I wouldn't have made you wait till you fell asleep to feel so good, baby"

"Fuck, SeungCheol" you gasp as he carried you finally over to your bed, placing your back in the middle of the bed before his lips met yours again, his hands busy with removing your underwear. He took his time kissing down your body, moving to lay his stomach against the bed as his hands moved up your bare legs, spreading out your legs for him before he pressed a small kiss against your clit, making you hum. "Tell me, princess, did I make you feel good in your dream?" His voice sounded so deep as he hooked his arms underneath your legs, keeping you open for him as he blew onto your wet pussy. You squirmed at the feeling making him chuckle deeply before he began to press kisses and bites to the inside of your thighs, slowly moving up your thigh before switching to the other. He wanted to make you wait and enjoy every moment of this. He wanted to make all your dreams come true and make new ones too.

"Did I lick and bite your thighs just like this baby?" he asked against your legs, waiting for you to give him a nod before he whispers "good girl" against your thighs before he moved closer to your pussy once more, taking in a moment to admire how you look before he says "I'm about to make you feel so much better than in that dream, baby"

You have no chance at reacting as his tongue moves up your pussy slowly before he moans at your taste, his tongue soon moving in-between your lips as he takes his time tasting you, getting to know your wet pussy to make sure he made you feel so good. He moaned as he felt your hands moving into his hair, gripping his blonde locks as your hips try to move, trying to feel more of his tongue in you as you moaned loudly. He was right, this did feel so much better than in your dreams. You gasped as his tongue slowly pushed into you, curling the tip of his tongue as his thumb moved to play with your clit, your louder moan of his name echoing in the bedroom loudly as he fucked you with tongue.

"That's it, princess, feel good on my tongue. Use my fucking tongue and face" Your back arched a bit as his tongue moved faster before allowing you to ride his tongue until he felt your moans become slightly higher pitched, showing him that you were close. He chose to speed up, his thumb that was on his clit moving faster as you came. SeungCheol watched as your back arched, his tongue leaving you for a moment before his tongue moved to clean you up, not wanting to leave anything behind. Your hand grip his hair tighter as your eyes closed, your legs still shaking due to the force of the orgsam before your felt one of his hands moving slowly up your stomach, pressing down against your body. Your eyes opened as you felt his hand keeping your body firmly against the bed while his now messy hair and face resting against your shaking thighs, a small smirk on his wet lips.

"I need you to stay still for me, babygirl. I gotta prep you for me, okay?" He smirked, pressing another kiss to your clit, chuckling as he heard you whimper his name. "Angel, if you can't handle that, what makes you think that you can handle more than that, even my cock?" He smirked more, his free hand moving slowly along the outside of your thighs, enjoying how your legs seem to shake more at his touch. "So shaky, baby"

He chuckled before pushing his middle finger slowly into you, watching as your back arched at the feeling. He gently cooed you before he leaned down to press another kiss to your lips, giving you the opportunity to taste yourself on your lips. "I gotta stretch you out for me. If you can't handle my fingers, what makes you think you can handle my cock?"

"I can handle it, SeungCheol. I know I can" Your voice came out so desperate, so whinny, so hot

How could SeungCheol not think you could take it after you did all of that.

"Oh my fucking god, SeungCheol" You gasped, your hips raising slightly under his arm as he adds another finger into you, both of his fingers curling immediately in you as he begins to fuck you with his fingers, his mouth wrapping around your clit. "You're doing so good, angel, just take some more, ok?" He doesn't wait for you to respond, though, adding one more finger before he picks up his pace, his mouth busy with licking and sucking on your clit. He knew you could take it all. You had been dreaming about him all this time, so surely your body was willing to adjust to him, especially when he's hitting your spot so good.

As your hands gripped the sheets, his eyes moved up to watch your chest rise and fall at a fast pace, your next orgsam about to wash over you as he continues to hit your spot, giving your clit a harsher suck before he sits up, diving his fingers into you repeatedly as you cum. As you grip his broad shoulders, he watches you face as you slowly come down from your high, his fingers slowly leaving your wet pussy as some of your juices leak from inside you, pooling underneath you on the sheets.

You felt like you were on a cloud that was past cloud 9, your mind completely fuzzy as SeungCheol placed a kiss onto your cheek before standing up from the bed. Before you could whine at his body leaving yours, you notice him slowly removing his top, showing off his large peck and toned body before he removes his bottoms, tossing them away somewhere in the room before he removed his boxers, finally letting you see the object of all of your dreams.

"Is it just as good as you dreamed about, baby?" He asks with a charming smile, climbing on the bed in between your legs before he flips you over. You nod, feeling drunk as your cheek rests against a nearby pillow. You couldn't even form words at this point, feeling as if you could drift away, which SeungCheol chuckles at. His hand moves up your back slowly, feeling every curve of your back before he reaches your head, cupping your jaw from behind as you feel him press his hard cock against your ass. "No falling asleep baby. I still need to make your dreams come true." You nodded, SeungCheol chuckling at your distant look in your eyes.

"Did I already fuck you dumb, angel? Maybe I need to fuck you to you have no choice but to sleep, huh?" He presses as few kisses to your back before he grabs your hips, helping you move onto your knees before his hand move back to your back, pushing your upper body back against the bed as he says "Gotta fuck this pussy just right baby. Gotta show you that this is all not a dream, baby no" You can tell he's no longer even talking to you, slowly pushing into you. As he does, you moan loudly into the pillow, SeungCheol's next words coming out in a mixture of a moan and growl.

"Gotta fuck you better than dream me did. Dream me doesn't got shit on me, baby"

Your mind barely had time to put together SeungCheol's words as he began to move his hips, starting off slow so that you could feel every single inch of him before he sped up, his hand moving to press against your back. Your moans were muffled into the pillow as you tried to for words and thoughts, but with how he was fucking you, there was no way you could. Heck, you didn't even want to know what you would even say to him.

SeungCheol was more concerned with fucking you just right, his grunts and moans mixing with yours as he wrapped his hand around your hair, tugging your head to the side so more of your moans could be heard and not hidden in the pillow. At the sight of your dreamy look in your eyes and your mouth open as your pleasured moans slip from your mouth, he chuckles before cooing "That's it, baby. Am I fucking you dumb? You seem to like how I got you right now. Am I better in real life than in your dream?"

At your louder moans and how your cunt fluttered around his cock, he can't help but let out a strained chuckle before a louder moan, smashing his lips into yours as he begins to speed up. He could tell you were getting close, but he wanted to make you feel so good.

He pulled out for a moment, flipping you over to your stomach so he could see your face before pushing back into you before he kept moving faster, his hand moving to grip your jaw before he met your eyes with a dark eye before he says "that's it, Y/N, come on. Cum for me, cum all over this cock" As you came, your back arched as his lips moved to kiss your cheek and stomach before his own pleasure washes over him, stuffing his face into your neck as he cums. As SeungCheol presses himself against you, he kisses your neck before he whispers "that felt so good."

He soon pulls back to see your face, chuckling when he sees your dazed look and how satisfied you look. He smiles before kissing you again, rubbing your arms before he slowly pulled out, going to grab a rag before cleaning you up. You felt your body react to every movement or touch, your body super sensitive yet buzzing with the afterglow. You never felt so good.

SeungCheol soon returned to your side, laying down next to you as you immediately move to cuddle against him. After a few moments of silence, he soon clears his throat before saying "I, uh, don't know if you're asleep or not, but I'd love to take you out sometime."

"I'd love to" you hummed, pressing a kiss to his chest peck before falling back against his body, feeling sleep slowly move over you as you feel SeungCheol's lips press against your forehead before whispering "Goodnight, Y/N. Dream about me."

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