#can't believe i filled all 12 places

[baepsays]

High School Oblivion ⸻ Gojo Satoru x reader

description ᯓ★ while going through his high school yearbook when helping his mother clean out their storage, Gojo's hands get stuck on a page with a picture of this one particular person. he cannot help but reminisce about the past as now a 30 year old and wonder how things could have turned out if everything went down differently.

cw ᯓ★ fluff, sfw, implicated angst, really mild angst, enemies to friends, one sided love, pining, academic rivals, lowkey bully Gojo, teasing and name calling—nothing really extreme, high school au, frenemies really, usage of fem oriented pronouns, reader is depicted as a fem presenting person, reader is depicted shorter than Gojo, written basically from Gojo's pov, time skips, nosebleed, sorry but use of y/n l/n i know that can be cringy but whatever.

𐙚 Playlist I used while writing this.

Satoru is a good son. In fact, he's kind, diligent, genuine, obedient, and- "Stop trying to slack off and get back to work." Well, his mother might disagree.

"You cannot be asking me to help you and also boss me around mom." Satoru says with a signature pout. Having Gojo Satoru as your son and raising him, doesn't really immunize a person to his pouts. Or maybe his mother is biased because he looks exactly like his father when he's trying to sway her as well and he pulls out what seems to be a Gojo family weapon. But naturally she has her own defenses. 

"I'm only making you do this because you left all this behind yourself Sato, why didn't you take some of this or clean it when you moved out?"

"Wow just because I am a grown adult I cannot believe my own mother is treating me like one. Wow, what has the world come to." Satoru exclaimed like the drama queen he is. 

"Stop being dramatic and help me properly you know I can't lift up all these boxes you have essentially filled with garbage. Clean out these last 3 boxes piled up in categories of what you need and what to throw out, I'll go check on your father."

It seems his whining doesn't always work on his mother the way it does on his father. Oh well. Though this has been such a nostalgic Sunday, being back in his childhood home, well second one, the neighborhood he grew up in for the better part of his teenage and young adulthood, getting forced into helping out his mother, and the smell of his father's cooking  on a weekend. Time might as well revert back.

While cleaning out one of the, what seems never ending, boxes of childhood belongings— Gojo Satoru stumbles upon something he hasn't seen in probably 12 years. His high school yearbook.

It is a natural thing to go into the realm of nostalgia when stumbling upon things like this. Flipping through the pages he really grasps how much he has already forgotten. I mean that is given, it's been 12 years since he graduated. It takes him 12 months to find his lost socks.

Looking through the pictures he realizes how much everything has changed. The length of Suguru's hair has changed, as well as Shoko's. Nanami has gotten more chiseled or tired; he cannot say exactly, Utahime finally has a decent haircut.  And look at him! Oh how naive he was, look at those big blue eyes with nothing behind them, covered by those obnoxious pairs of shades. Maybe some things haven't changed, never mind. He's probably never letting go of his obnoxious collection of shades.

As he flips through the pages his fingers get stuck on a particular page. And the memories just come flooding in without any effort.

[BACK IN HIGH SCHOOL, fifteen years ago]

Gojo Satoru saw you for the first time at the school gates on his first day during first year, at a new high school. 

He was not very fond of the idea of going to school in a new city, away from the place he grew up in, unfamiliar people, and joining in the middle of the year when everyone has already somewhat settled down, it unnerved him. Unfortunately, throwing a fit about staying in a house his parents already sold and made all the arrangements to move to another place, couldn't help him much.  

Some random kid showing up in the middle of the year is just a recipe to be bullied, or at least be prone to such jabs. He had decided prior to his first day, that he would go in with a stone cold face and be brave through this. Or, plan B.

While he was heavily contemplating standing in front of the main gate, the last bell already rang, he was officially late for his first day. Well he arrived a lot earlier, then somehow everyone passed by him and the final bell rang and he just stood there. And he was thinking about making a run for it, that was the plan B, taking a train back to Tokyo, and from there on he will figure it out. His parents will definitely know, find him, maybe this ordeal will finally make them understand how serious he was about not settling in here, even if that came at the cost of being grounded for life. 

Satoru almost turned around to walk away from his new high school, his new city— his new home essentially— that is when a breeze of air gushed past him. When he looked forward, past the gates of the school, there was a fluff of hair, in the said school's uniform with a bag in her hands; dangling and teetering to fall on the ground, a key chain bouncing by one of the zippers— cute little orange cat, bouncing on her bag. She was running with all her might to make it, unlike him. That is all he saw of her, but he smelled much more. The lingering smell of her perfume, or soap or just- whatever it may be. 

Lemons? Bergamot maybe. Distinctly citrus, not the sour kind, or the room freshener kind— a sweet smell of ripe citrus in the summer sun, kind of citrus. And flowers, peonies to be exact, that was very apparent. 

Satoru, to this day, has never smelled that kind of tantalizing fragrance. To this day, he still remembers exactly how he stood there dumb; eyes wide open, mouth agape, and nothing but citrus with peonies haunting his chemoreceptors.

That day he tried to run after you, to put a name and face to the fragrance that in an instant hypnotized him, and to return that orange cat. Unfortunately, the teetering little cat keychain did fall off your bag, and when he ran after you to return it, he couldn't catch up to your haste. And since that day he didn't see you until a whole month passed. 

That month he met his lifelong circle of friends, his best of friends. But it wasn't easy for neither of the sides to become acquainted, he was in a broody depressed rage about shifting and had already made up his mind that ‘well everyone must hate me’ — teenagers. Anyway, the first day he sat beside Geto Suguru he barked at Suguru for no reason, poor suguru was just being friendly and kind. So yes that broke into a little kerfuffle, got a lot of scolding from their homeroom teacher, Mr. Yaga. Later Suguru still dragged Satoru with him to eat lunch with his friends. 

This is important to the story because, nostalgia and well, Satoru realized you were literally in the class next door, because of Shoko.

One day, when Suguru and him were irritating Kento, with a giggly Haibara, it took him only 2 weeks to drop his ‘you don't understand mom’ & ‘i am above you people’ act.

don't get it wrong, he still thinks he's better than most people, which isn't entirely wrong but god is it annoying. And that is exactly how you felt about Gojo Satoru upon your first impression of him. 

On that fateful day you went to look for Shoko, and found her, as usual at the school basketball court with her friends, with an addition of white fluff. You had heard of Gojo Satoru a lot at that point, the girls in your class went to gather out of their class to check him out, from what you heard he picked a fight with Suguru that day. Off the get go you did not think much of him, probably some pretty face with connections and money to spare by getting into unnecessary trouble. 

Satoru didn't see you entering the basketball court that day, but he smelled you. In the past month there had been few instances where his nostrils would be randomly engulfed by that citrusy peony smell, and he would halt in his pace to whip his head around to find the source. But alas, by the time he would turn around, you'd be nowhere to be found, and your perfume would slowly fade out. 

And here you were, in all your physical tangible glory, for a second Satoru was taken aback seeing you there—somewhere somehow, before your fragrance could reach him, something about you struck him right in his throat. Maybe it was his subconscious, but he halted right where he was, mid match with Kento and Suguru. When was the ball snatched away from him, or when your bergamot and peonies perfume took over his senses; neither could be pinpointed. All he knew was that— it was you. 

It was the girl with messed up collars and messy hair. Who smells divine. And the orange cat keychain!— Which has been sitting on his desk for a month. Satoru couldn't care less about Suguru egging him on about making a basket, nor did he see Kento slowly retire to the audience benches with Haibara— he stood there, staring at you, giving back Shoko some notebook; not important. He needed to go up to you. He needed to introduce himself! He couldn't let you slip away now. 

So right before you told Shoko you'd be taking your leave, he rushed over there, and haphazardly blurted out— “you smell.” 

“Excuse me!?” you looked at him flabbergasted. 

“Satoru, why are you trying to pick a fight?” Shoko had to intervene. Because what a horrible way to introduce two of  your friends to each other.

“Listen Gojo, I do not know what your problem is, but I'd advise you to keep yourself and your opinions to yourself.” You warned him before storming out of the basketball court with furrowed eyebrows and red ears.  

“Damn dude, do you even know her? Why would you even say that?” Suguru was honestly very entertained by this exchange that day, as he was thoroughly entertained by you two's interactions throughout high school. 

Satoru didn't mean to start off on such a contemptuous note with you, he didn't really mean it. I mean- he did mean what he said, it's just his phrasing was poor. He has always been reprimanded about this problem by his mother since he was a kid, his father did find it extremely funny. At times, he too found his poor choice of vocabulary funny, unfortunately it wasn't one of those circumstances. 

Later he had explained this to Shoko, telling Suguru anything was useless, he was too preoccupied with reenacting his failed attempt at making a good first impression on you. He then only revealed why he has been looking for the girl who smells like bergamot and peonies—which he didn't use as a descriptor of you, that much detail and all of them are on his neck about being a little obsessed creep. He didn't go into any details, he just told them he met you on his first day, at the school gates and you were late, also about how you dropped your keychain. After all that is why he ran after you that day to find you and give it back to you, but unfortunately he got blind sighted by your perfume, right? Well that is what he is willing to tell others and himself. At least he knew your name now.

And surprisingly you also knew him? Did you also see him at the gates that day? Or did you see him in the hallways? Or with Shoko? Or-Why was he so concerned anyway? All he needed was to return the keychain and get over this whole thing, you didn't seem like a very easygoing person. But maybe that had to do with his poor sentence structuring.

Next time Satoru saw you, you were in your class. It was before the morning bell rang, he showed up at the door by the end of your classroom, to seem more inconspicuous. He was looking around to find you in the midst of the flock of girls gathered around him to enquire about his sudden visit, so much for being inconspicuous. Fortunately, he saw you soon enough at the front of the classroom in a seat by the windows — “Y/N!” 

and everyone turned to stare at you, ‘great’—wasn't exactly what you were feeling. When you walked up to Satoru, you couldn't help but narrow your eyes at the guy. “Did not think we were on a first name basis.” 

“Listen, I think we got off on the wrong foot, i-” Gojo tried to explain. 

“I think we got off on exactly the right foot, I mean who just gets all up into someone's face and calls them smelly?” Your voice was already going up quite a bit. 

“No, listen, that was a misunderstanding. I mean I did mean what I said, but-” he tried to, horribly, explain himself. 

“Seriously, your audacity is immense, not only did you call me smelly, but now you're showing up to my class to pick a fight!?” you definitely lost some cool at that point. Everyone who wasn't already congregated, also gathered around, inside the classroom and outside in the hallway. 

“First of all, will you stop cutting me off? I am trying to explain the situation here!” And now Satoru was also losing it. 

“Explain? Explain what? Explain how you are above everything and literal incarnation of God or something? Oh did my lowly perfume perhaps irritate your nose hair?” The sarcasm clearly entailed what kind of image you have already built in your head about him. Perhaps it was from all sorts of exaggerated rumours about him. Though you didn't seem like one to fall for such petty rumours, like how he was an undercover actor or prince. But he was sure what kind of a person you thought this guy was—an arrogant asshole. 

“Do you even know me?” said Satoru, now starting to become really irritated by your—in his opinion—unnecessary attitude. The last month has been hard enough as is. It took him time to settle down and not let people’s stares or baseless rumors get to him—some of them might have been funny if he was being honest. It was the friends he made in his first week who held him back from getting into more fights than he already did, and had his back against all the whispers. 

“Do you know me well enough to shout my first name in front of my entire class!?” Well Satoru didn't have a comeback to that. “Exactly. So why don't you keep yourself and your arrogance out of my sight.” You grimaced.

“Arrogance? Oh please shortcake. You sure have a lot of words to spout with that height of yours.” Now he was just being petty.

“Oh because being a streetlight is so gratifying!” 

“At least I don't cut people off mid sentence then talk shit!” and he has completely lost his cool.

“Oh don't put on pretence! Like you are some saint!? For who? The girls who flock you like some shiny stone?” 

“Oh don't be salty just because I didn't give you some attention shortcake.” He was trying to get under your skin. He's now losing sight of his actual motive.

“Yes, because I am dying to be acknowledged by your highness, and how my smell is bothering his expensive nose!” 

“Listen. That was entirely a misunderstanding, and you're not even trying to hear me out. You are the one picking a fight!” 

“Oh I am sorry, I just can't stand pretentious people.” you stab your last quip with a glare, stabbing right through his chest, all while maintaining perfect eye contact. 

“You know what. Nevermind shortcake, this was a waste of time.” 

“I didn't even ask for your presence in the first place.” Your eyes deadpanned, remained trained on him, bored yet bothered. Both of your faces mere inches away, when did it get there? No idea. He was cranking his head down to glare back into your eyes, losing all motivation to return your keychain. And before he could come up with any further retort, the bell rang. Thankfully.

Word of this interaction spread through the entire school like wildfire. 

A few things were instantly established in the passing months since Satoru’s arrival—he was going to be popular, he is good at almost everything, and that he got along with almost everyone; even the people he did not have a good rapport with at the beginning, now he seemingly got along with them perfectly. 

But, there was one person who could not stand him. And that person happened to be you. And everyone was aware of this. The students, respective and common friends, the teachers, heck even the principal knew.  

Yet in the next 6 months since Satoru joined the school, he found himself crossing paths with you quite often. First he really did just avoid you; he gave up on giving back the keychain, that he did out of pettiness. He really did want to return it, but unless and until you dropped your attitude he was not letting the cat chain go, but he did take good care of it— it sat nicely on his desk, gave it a little bed made out of a soft napkin he got from his mom. Once in a while he would dust it and give it pats, and also speak to it. Yeah, after dinners when he would be studying he would speak to that little guy. He was feeling real friendly with it, which made him feel more bad for it, because at the end of the day it belonged to you. 

In the instances where Satoru and you would run into each other; you could be laughing out loud and having a fun time and then, you would see him across the hallway and your face would morph into a scowl. It irked him, in a good way, it made him feel excited that he had such a sway on you. Even if he was convinced it was not that one single—incorrectly interpreted—comment about your perfume, which made you have such a poor opinion of him; there has to have been a deeper reason. From what he has gathered, you are the highest scoring student in the entire year, the teachers have a very good opinion of you, and you are helpful towards your peers— a straight A’s student, and their sophomore student body council secretary, a real model student. Even though you would mostly keep to yourself, you were still pretty well known by others. 

Yet when you saw him, you would lose your cool. In fact from what he heard, the biggest takeaway from the fight you two had was that, ‘woah she can be like that?’, because people apparently had never seen you speak over a certain decibel. That stroked his ego. Made him feel sort of special, got him all giddy. 

He was yet to realize the gravity of those feelings. The impact of the rush he felt when he smelled your sweet and citrusy fragrance when you passed by him, speeding up to lose sight of him faster. And he would always be left behind, to stand still, taking it all in.  

His little teasing remarks, pranks, and fight initiators started soon after the fight you two had that day; started small really. Calling you shortcake constantly, interrupting you when you would go to their class to make some announcement on behalf of the student body. Trying to get better grades than you. Going over to the student body room, using his class president Kento as an excuse, to annoy you. Stealing your spectacles on days you would not put in contacts, trying it on and copying your mannerisms. His personal favorite was to snatch away any books, notebooks, or papers in your hands; to then hold it over his head. The whole thing about you jumping to try and get it out of his hands—which was an impossible task for you—gave him the opportunity to smell your scent much better. 

During one of such instances, where he was holding one of the student council papers over his head, prolonging your work, he got a whiff of your shampoo. It smelled like fruits, strawberries and more citrus—it smelled like orange this time. This was fatal. The notes of bergamot and peonies were threatening his sanity as is, and now there were strawberries. He got so trancened by your presence that when his hand lowered involuntarily, you took the chance to grab onto his shoulder, to use him as a support to reach for your papers—he stood there looking into your squinting eyes as you retrieved the papers from his hand, until you walked off muttering curses at him. 

And he just stood staring at your back. His eyes lingered on you long enough to see you turn back and throw a glare at him as you made a turn to disappear from his line of sight.

This went on, the teasing and squabbling, the name callings, use of the words shortcake and streetlight became significantly more frequent in your respective lexicons. Satoru loved using his pretty privileges to get the girls in your class to do his bidding, and had them sending you off somewhere without mentioning his name, the naive enchanted girls would abide with no questions asked. And when you would show up, he would throw a fake snake at you, or jumpscare you—though this was a more rare occurrence than his regular teasing, just so you would not get too used to this sort of pranks that it would lose its effect on you. 

To him the idea of you was like this puzzling question nagging and straining on his mind, much like your physical self. But you got him excited and riled up. Also a little annoyed at the fact that you do not think of him worthy enough to spare any time. Which is why he came up with these mischievous ideas to elicit reactions out of you. 

Nothing was more satisfying than to see you break under his little ventriloquism.

The dynamics took a slight turn when you two became second year students.

On the fateful morning of the day when the results for first year’s finals came out—you found yourself standing dumbfounded, looking at your full name on the bulletin board, in second place. 

You came in second. 

Which is big! An amazing achievement. But it didn't feel like it. Especially when your name was displayed second to Gojo Satoru. He outdid you, he really did. Getting better grades than you in random tests and what not was one thing, then outranking you and ruining your plan for a perfect streak—was another thing. The horror and embarrassment of standing in front of the huge display of the grades, surrounded by everyone, having your failures announced in broad daylight, hearing everyone whisper about you—had you standing there like a cold unmoving statue.

So when Satoru got around to finally stroll in with ease, way after the results were announced, to come up to stand directly behind you—because as always the first person his eyes wander to find in a crowd is—you. He couldn't figure out why you glared at him differently, there was this underlying somber and a tilting glaze in your eyes. It was as if any moment you were going to break down into tears and his presence was anything but welcomed. 

Praise his tongue, because thankfully that day it held itself back. Thankfully his senses caught on to what was happening. Coming in first or second or last did not matter much to him, because what mattered most to him was to simply  get under your skin, essentially the very reason why he ended up on the top of the list—but you did not find this funny or amusing. And it wasn't your usual annoyance and dismay of his antics, he really felt like he had done something to actually hurt you. 

And which in return hurt him tenfold. Knowingly or unknowingly, Gojo Satoru bled himself a wound that he didn't know how to stitch close. 

He didn't know what exactly hurt more, the fact you ran away from there that day after he arrived, without a single word. Or the fact that you've been completely ignoring his existence since that day. It has been really painful for him, because everytime he would get a glimpse of you or a whiff of you—you'd disappear from his sphere, as soon as humanly possible. He made every effort to try to speak to you. The rejoice he felt about being assigned to the same classroom as you this year, was starting to wear off. Especially when you made it explicitly clear through your actions that you had no intention of speaking to him or acknowledging his existence, more than ever. If you were helping out class president Nanami Kento with distributing papers, you would hand over his papers as nonchalantly as possible. In one of such several instances, he gave up on giving you space to get back to your usual self, and grabbed your wrist to explain himself. 

“L/n, listen, i am really sorry alright. I don't know how it happened. I swear I did not mean to hurt you like that, I swear! I was just-” he blabbed on without making much sense, whispering as discreetly as possible. Even though the entire school was aware you two were not on even speaking terms anymore. He did not want to put you in a position where everyone made a spectacle out of you.

“I have better things to do, Gojo.” as always you would cut him off, without even sparing him as much as even a glare, then yank your wrist out of his grasp to go on your merry way. 

He really did whatever he could, following you around like a kicked puppy, leaving notes on your desk, which was fortunately assigned right before his own desk—he was not sure if it made things a little easier for him, or a hundred times harder. It stung to find those notes crumbled up and sitting on his own desk later. Stung to sit behind you, when you refused to spare a glare or two his way, even some sharp remarks, or curses directed at him. The smell of sweet citrus and peonies did not help. The teachers would call him out more often than not for being distracted in class. Poor guy was really going through it.

The nail in his coffin was, when it had already been three weeks since the new year started. Three weeks and three days of you completely ignoring his pathetic attempts at saying sorry to you. On the fourth day of the fourth week, he found you in the teacher's lounge, speaking to one of your subject teachers;

“Goodness L/n. The year just started and you are already slacking off? Forgetting to submit the student council work on time, then forgetting your class assignments!? Is there something going on? No surprise Gojo surpassed you, do you understand the gravity of that? That careless guy outranked you. And you are making no efforts to rectify that! If things go on like this, next year you might come second from last.” he really crossed a line there.

If it was in Satoru’s capacity, he would’ve probably gone in and punched the man straight square in the jaw. He never really liked him to begin with. It was not about the fact he called Satoru careless, or the fact he always finds the flaws in Satoru—it was entirely about how he treated you. And it was not just in this instance, the guy has always been harsh and judgemental towards you, from what he heard it started since one day you corrected his mistake during class. And he was known to be not tolerant of anyone being better than him, especially students. 

Satoru almost broke into the room, when his eyes locked with yours. You stood in front of the guy with your hands tightly gripped by your side, facing the door. Your already glossy eyes started to almost overflow with tears when your gaze fell on him, your body was slightly trembling. How you managed to blink away those tears, is beyond him. In the brief moment where you looked at him and looked away to control your emotions, making an effort to not break down into tears in front of the room full of teachers, the teacher who was scolding you, and your homeroom teacher Mr. Yaga who was giving you pitiful glaces—he knew interrupting will only make things worse for you.

More than anyone, you did not want to cry in front of Satoru. And Satoru was cognizant of that fact better than maybe even yourself.

So, he did the most sensible thing he could in that moment, for once, he simply stood outside with his back to the wall outside of the teacher’s room, and did not dare to look inside. And he just waited while remaining unnoticeable. Waiting for you to come out, he did not care for the looks thrown his way by the students roaming in the hallways, as long as they did not spare a glance towards you and try to snoop. What did he even want to say to you when you came out of there? He had no idea, and he knew he was the last person you would want to see right now, but for him you are the first person he wants to see everyday after he wakes up—so he could not just let you be on your own in this condition. Because he knew better than anyone, you were not one to wear your heart on your sleeves. 

Satoru essentially blended in there, to the point you did not even notice him standing there when you left the room in a hurry, and headed the opposite way from your class. Recess was already over, that guy kept you in there for the entire recess period. ‘Goodness did you even eat?’ was something that crossed his mind among various spiteful and angry words he was muttering under his breath directed towards that teacher. 

You were never one to miss a class, cutting classes without any valid reason was out of the question. But honestly if you tried to go in the class right now, he would have probably dragged you somewhere else himself. So he did the next best thing—followed you from a distance to wherever you were going. No one is going to care or notice if you two were gone at the same time, right? Well at least he could make up some excuse and take all the blame himself. He was not exactly known for his attendance record anyway, the sole reason why he made sure not to miss school was because you barely ever skipped school. 

That is how he found you in the school yard at the back, near the flower patch the students planted, against the big Momiji tree. Where you are found most times during free periods, reading whatever book you may be reading at the moment. This time you were just crying, well it is not that he could see you, but he could tell. You were sitting with your knees to your chest, face buried in your hands, your entire figure was clearly trembling even from afar. Soft sobs jabbed his ears as he got closer and made his chest hurt. He slowly walked up to the tree trying not to scare you. 

“Stop lurking like a creep.” You said with your head still down.

“Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you.” He said softly, and went to take a seat beside you, unsure if you were going to run away from him again.

You laid your legs flat on the grass and rested your back against the tree when he made his way over to you. When you looked up at him, eyes bloodshot red, glassy with tears, and more tears running down your cheeks, pooling at your chin— with your lips slightly jutted out and eyebrows bunched up in a frown, he just fell on his knees in front of you. Happerhazadly pulled out his handkerchief, and offered to take it. 

“Is this funny to you?” you said with a frown. He knew you were upset but he couldn't help but think, and mindlessly said it out loud—

“Cute.” 

“Ah so this is cute to you!? You are finding my misery and embarrassment cute. You seriously-” he cuts you off mid sentence.

“Will you ever actually let me speak!?” He takes a second and continues “Goodness shortcake, I meant you are cute. The tongue you've got on you, could wound thousands of soldiers and that brain of yours could beat Usain Bolt in a race.” He let out a short chuckle as he shook his head slightly and wiped your face with his handkerchief. 

He gingerly wiped away the tears falling down your cheeks and chin, and the accumulated tears in the corners of your eyes. With utmost gentle touch he cleaned you up, which was characteristically contradictory.

You looked away from him without any retort. Too occupied with the fact he called you cute, to even notice that little gesture. So you further leaned back onto the tree as if it'll engulf you and make you not sit here with him and confront this heavy air hanging between you two. But also, who is stopping you from getting up and walking away? 

Things have always been odd when Gojo Satoru was involved. Somehow after everything, time and time again you found yourself breaking down all your walls to let this guy have a peek at your most authentic self—someone who is envious, easily irritable, not the patient and tolerating soft-spoken girl everyone knows. And it irks you. It claws at your skin that he has been nothing but himself since day one; even before entering the gates of the school, he didn't think of the consequences but just turned his back to it and almost walked away. Yet you were rushing to make it on time, to not have any smear on your perfect record. Even if you were late only because you were up studying until late for the midterms looming over, you could not excuse one slip up.

Why didn't he run the opposite direction of the school but instead chased after you?—you couldn't pinpoint the answer. Everything about him just simply made your head scramble, enough so you didn't even realize you lost your beloved cat keychain until later during lunch. Even when you searched around everywhere, traced back your steps, and looked for it on the route back home; it was nowhere to be found. You cried yourself to sleep that night thinking how you lost the keychain, which had a cat who looked exactly like the cat you once loved and cherished. It was unfortunate enough to have lost him at such a young age, but the key chain helped to have his presence as if guiding you through obstacles.

And without him, things have been a mess. The only explanation you could rationalize was that Gojo Satoru was the one to blame for everything. If he hadn't turned back and ran in after you, you would've been more receptive to your keychain dropping instead of this giant guy running behind you, and wouldn't have lost it. If only he didn't become friends with Shoko and the others you wouldn't have to possibly interact with him. And then he wouldn't know of your existence and try to make it his mission to have your life fall apart. 

“I'm sorry.” 

What surprising words even for him. There have been very few people in his life he has ever genuinely apologized to. He could count them all on all his fingers, but he never expected to be where he was currently.

“I am sorry for saying that you smell, which I did not mean in the way it came off, I am just really bad with my words. I meant you smell really nice.” His face was completely serious and there was no trace of mockery or jest. 

“I just- not to be a creep, I saw you on my first day here. At the school gates.” His eyes softened and his body started to fidget. He almost seemed—nervous? 

“I almost ran back to Tokyo that day. I wasn't really, well to put it simply, happy about the whole moving thing. And if you hadn't rushed past me that day, I probably would've gone with my plan.” He throws an easy smile in your direction. “If you hadn't dropped this—” He digs around his pockets and encloses something in his fist. 

“Maybe it would have been much harder for me and my parents to start off here. I am almost glad you dropped this little guy that day.” When he opened his fist, in the space between you two, there rested your lost keychain with the cat who reminded you of your dead pet cat. 

Upon the sight of your beloved cat (keychain), your mouth opened a little with an audible gasp. Your hand went up timidly to touch it on his palm, actively sending shivers down his spine at the brush of your fingertips. All he could focus his eyes on was your hand, not even daring to look up at your face, afraid of the state of his own face.

He was sure the heat he felt rushing up to his cheeks and ears, must have evidently turned his pale skin into a blushing mess. If only he was not so preoccupied with his own emotions, he would have noticed the first speck of tear forming yet again in the corners of your eyes, before it could even fall down. Which he only felt when he saw the droplets of water that landed on the palm of his hand, effectively making him snap his head back up to look at your weeping face. 

If he asked you then why were you crying? You would have probably just cried harder. So you were thankful that he did not ask. 

He did not bother to ask any questions but simply took you in his arms, burying your face in his chest, actively soaking his shirt in the shivering winds of spring—letting you cry about nothing and everything, in the arms of the guy who has been the source of your annoyance since the day he arrived. 

“You make no sense to me” your sobs became muffled through the fabric of his shirt and sweater vest.

“That is a weird way of thanking someone for returning the keychain which you clearly care a lot about.” he let out a soft giggle, trying to put you at ease. You pulled away from him, much to his dismay, looking only at the keychain he returned in the palm of your hands. 

“Well you did take over my rank, and eavesdropped on me getting humiliated.” if it was in his power, he would kiss away that frown and pout.

With that one passing thought, Gojo Satoru had the first epiphany of his life that day. The answer to the inclination he felt towards hogging away all your attention.

“Satoru?” He finally heard from the haze of realization and panic that suddenly hit him. What was he supposed to do now? How was he going to ever face you with these confusing feelings?

“Are you alright?” you seemed genuinely concerned for him. Which melted him. Again, if only he was not so preoccupied with the mess in his head and chest, he would have realized much earlier you just called him by his first name. For the first time ever. 

“Did you just call me by my first name?” he asked in genuine awe. While you shied away from him a little, which he found more endearing—this is an entirely biased perspective. 

“Also! I really did not mean to outdo you! I swear! I didn't even try that hard, and I was sure you were going to do way better than me. Believe me it was just a fluke.” he blabbered on in a frenzy. “Wow, way to show off Gojo.” you said playfully with an eye roll and half smile, just impressed by the lack of imperious tone in his voice. 

“No, I swear! Also i mean you have been looking really exhausted these days, maybe that is why, or else how can i ever beat you? I don't know, maybe because I am new. So they were like—’let’s give him this so he does not go around picking fights again’. Also come on you just called me Satoru what happened! No take backs.” you let out a big laugh at his silly rambling. “Goodness. Alright Satoru.” 

And he's all smiles with the sound of his own heart beating in his ears. 

“I will be taking back my spot from you. Keep it warm until then.” With those final words you stood up and walked away, the hand you used to give him a final pat on his shoulder—dragged off his shoulder with each step enlarging the distance between you two. The agonizingly lingering heat that it left behind, surely left a mark on his skin. It burnt, or perhaps shocked him—he was unclear which was worse.

One thing was clear as he watched you walk back into the building—he is in deep waters. And unfortunately he doesn't know how to swim.

It is truly beyond current Satoru, how teen Satoru's thought processes worked. Because how do you come to the conclusion that ‘i need to do everything in my power other than confront these feelings eating away at me.’ 

So after the confrontational and very heartfelt conversation with you, Satoru felt more powerless than ever at the mercy of the feelings you provoked within him. His head would feel light, chest would feel heavy, feet would go numb, and every moment he would get a whiff of your scent he could feel a threatening nosebleed. 

Actually once during PE you sat beside him after running, sweaty and out of breath. You had simply leaned over him to grab the water bottle by his side—and his nose started bleeding. Until then he never believed in the whole thing about getting a nosebleed because of being overwhelmed, he genuinely believed one needs to be punched real hard in the face or hit something face first with good impact to get a nosebleed. 

And now he stands corrected.

He wasn't sure whether it was the citrus, peonies, or the new found smell of your musk and natural odor which triggered the whole thing. Or maybe it was the worry you showed, scrambling to stop the blood dripping down his nose with your sweat soaked towel, tilting his head back with your hands and shouting for your PE teacher to come and help him—if only you knew all of it helped less and less. 

The whole thing made him realize that he needs to get a grip! 

And how did he execute that— by confiding in his friends? Making an effort to confess to you? No. He decided that it would be a brilliant idea to accept every confession he got and date as many girls as he could—to forget you, of course. 

In his defense, he liked what you two got going right now. He gradually grew really close to you; started with simple conversations and jokes to then a fully established friendship. At least he liked the thought of being your friend. 

He liked when you’d lean back in your chair to whisper little jokes to him, how the teacher completely fumbled that sentence. Or when you would give him candies, because you always carried some with you, or when you would come to him first before going to anyone else if you did not understand a lesson. 

He particularly liked when you would share a rambling synopsis of the books you were currently reading or recently finished, it did not matter how little he cared about the books itself. Mr. ‘could not stop yapping for the love of god’, went completely silent when he stood before you. He loved when you would bring him your latest creation in the kitchen, because you were trying to learn how to cook and it did not matter to him how salty or half cooked and fully burnt the food would be. It was the effort you put into asking him about his favorites and tried making it. Like the effort he put into not letting you get a clue about how much of a digimon guy he was, because he would rather hear you talk about pokemons to him for hours. Did not matter that he thought digimon was superior. 

Satoru might have been a popular guy since he joined; being extremely good looking, witty, academically gifted, part of the basketball team and having friends who were equally well known worked in his favor of being probably the most sought after guy in school. But that never made him a ‘player’, as one would assume. Often he would return the gifts he would get or politely decline confessions. So to everyone's surprise when he accepted the first confession, rumors went around—’maybe he was waiting for her to confess this entire time?’ Well, the rumors steered a different direction when she broke up with him within a week, and the next girl also broke up with him within a similar span of time. And when this pattern repeated for the rest of the year, people started labeling him as a cliche popular guy.

Around his sixteenth relationship, you happened to see him getting slapped real hard by the girl he was going out with at the time. They were talking behind the gardening shed, close to the Momiji tree you loved oh so dearly. All that shouting and cursing she did before slapping him, reached your ears, and as a diligent member of the student’s council you could not ignore it. The slap was echoing. She really left a mark on his cheeks, others have slapped him before for being so apathetic about everything, to get a one last satisfactory reaction out of him. But they have all failed at that. But this girl slapped him harder than anyone else had before her— while calling him a piece of shit for leading her on and wasting her time. So he got broken up with again. And he did not seem even a little bothered by this, his face only started contorting in a panic when his eyes landed on you standing the opposite way from the route his ex took to storm off.  

Which ended up making him run away from you, a new occurrence for both of you. And this time you had to be the one to chase after him. You found him in the stairwells, where you silently just sat beside him. This must be what they call deja vu. 

“So. long day huh?” you dragged each word awkwardly. 

“You don’t have to do this Y/n.” he said without even looking at you, just looking down at his hands intertwined with each other, on his lap. 

“Unfortunately for you, I want to. We are friends aren’t we?” you asked him expectantly. 

And Satoru only ever wished to be your friend. He liked being friends with you. If you called him your friend the day he went to your class to return that keychain he would have been ecstatic, but right now? Being called your friend felt like yet another hit to his heart. He wants to leap out of the bounds of friendship and hold you, tell you how much he loves you. “Yes we are.” Those three words felt like gravel ripping his own skin. 

“Then just hear me out won’t you?” and how can he say no to you looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes, and smiling lips. You can ask him for anything and he would not dare to deny. So naturally he nodded a yes wordlessly. 

“You don’t seem like yourself these past few months. I am worried about you— we are all worried.” he stared at you as you took a pause to continue, assessing whether or not he was getting pissed off. “I know how much it sucks to hear that you have changed or something like that. But I do not mean it like that—you have been more distant, and just- well, you seem off.”

“You do know that you can tell me anything right? Is there anything bothering you? Are some kids bullying you? Tell me their names, I will take care of them.” you said with squinted eyes and a raised fist like you were ready to beat up some kids for him. And the sheer idea of that image tickled a laugh out of him. 

“Sure you will shortcake.” he said in a fit of laughter. And you have never been more glad to hear him call you by that nickname. It has grown on you, similarly as he has grown on you. 

“I am fine, at least now that I am sure about something, I am fine.” he said with a sigh, like something heavy lifted off his shoulders. “You sure right?” you enquired again just for confirmation. 

“Yesssss, now stop furrowing your eyebrows, you are bound to get wrinkles before you are even thirty.” he was helpless to the smile that grew on his face, “wow way to thank the person who just cheered you up.” 

“Stop trying to copy me shortcake.” he bumped his head slightly on yours, causing you to gasp and bump your forehead to his—some sort of retaliation if you will. Cannot let him get away with the last word, can you? “Don’t bump your big head with mine! What if I catch your dummy disease!?” you said with your forehead still on his forehead. Faces mere inches away from one another. 

“Uh huh? And what are you gonna do about it?” Satoru has no idea where this was coming from or where this was going. But having you in such close proximity was definitely messing with his head. 

“I will-” you cut yourself off, staring back into his eyes, unable to continue whatever you were trying to say—something about his eyes, the shades of blue, lapis and cerulean, making you incapable of continuing. It is as if there dwelled an ocean in his eyes, and unfortunately you never took your swimming lessons seriously.  “What are you going to do, shortcake?”

Well, no one found the answer to that question, as the bell rang and made the both of you flinch away from one another. In a moment of awkwardness about whatever that inexplicable tension was, you both did the most expected thing— laughed it off and headed towards the classroom. 

Rest of the year passed with Satoru coming to terms with his feelings for you, hyping himself up to confess to you, and spending time with you. And somehow the both of you ended up getting the exact grades at the end of the year, ending up on the first rank together—something that was bound to happen when you are studying together, giggling in class together, eating together, feeding the cats who took a nap behind the school, together. Even when he was more of a dog guy. 

And, Satoru really liked the idea of being together with you. 

When senior year rolled around and he was determined to make you his by the time you guys graduated high school. Which is easier said than done.

Especially when he is not making any efforts other than just moving his pupils frantically between your lips and eyes, as you go on and on about the student body president’s new dumb mandate. His mind is probably looking at you with heart eyes, lying on its stomach, kicking its feet. Because it keeps repeating,

 ‘everyday baby, please say you're mine.’

It is a little embarrassing when he has to hide behind the bookshelves when you turn to look his way, because he would be piercing his longing gaze in the back of your head. Why did he not go up to the seat you were occupying at the library? Strike up an easy conversation; and have you offer him a seat with a smile, or get annoyed at him for talking too much and too loud in the library—he does not have the answer himself. All he knew while peeking at you from between the books in a nearby shelf, that his heart was palpitating like it may burst out of his chest any moment, and have the librarian come scold and shush it. 

Walking by the hallways near your favorite Momiji tree, to catch a glimpse of you under it, by skipping on practice was the usual at this point. His teammates and coach have given up. Does not mean he doesn’t have to face consequences for these acts of stupidity. Especially on the off chance you visit one of his matches and he goes full statue in the middle of running up to the basket, then as he gains his composure back, he goes full throttle on his opponents. To show off his shots and dribbles during the match. The team and the coach let it pass sometimes, only because it guarantees that they will win the match. But they always make sure to lecture him about abandoning them to push past the hoard of people congratulating him, to only get to you. With groans of collective clamour going, “just confess already.”

Satoru, to this day, still wishes it was that easy. It is not that he never tried.

First time he tried to confess, you two were simply sitting in class, at your desks. Your chair was turned around, so you could sit facing him. He had stayed behind with you after classes ended, to help you with council work. But the yellow, orange and pink hues of the setting sun on your face, was leaving his usual talkative demeanor to be tongue tied. And when you leaned forward on the desk to snap your fingers in face to hopefully get him out of the trance where he was drowning—in those milliseconds between you moving off your seat, looming over him, and looking straight into his eyes; he almost blurted it all out. If only it was not for Kento to walk into the class and enquire about the progress you made on the work, he would have laid it all out for you. 

That was not the only time he was teetering over the edge. One time you dragged him to the garden behind school during PE to feed the cats who take naps around there. He actually blurted out “I am in love.”

Which naturally had you snap your head in his direction, your surprise also had the cat lying in your lap surprised, that it also looked in his direction. So he backpedaled, defending his words by rephrasing them, “No! I mean, I am loving this. As in, like, not having to do PE class!” you laughed it off, joking that his poor choices of words and phrasing will definitely get him in deep trouble one day.

There had been so many instances he just almost verbalized his feelings, almost found that serenity in having you know the reason behind the ache in his chest, and the foggy fuzz clouding his judgment around you. But he only wishes he actually followed through with his emotions. Often he found his emotions to be stuck in a battle between his tongue and brain. 

After many such (failed) attempts, he finally decided to just lay it all out after the graduation ceremony. As he could not burden you with his feelings when he spent the entirety of the year dilly dallying so much that the finals and entrance exams were near enough to have students lose sleep.

Sometimes in his dreams, Satoru still dreams about the day of his high school graduation ceremony. He dreams of the very events that took place that day, and different possibilities.

He woke up much earlier than usual that morning. He did not want to be late at any cost. Not because he wanted to be there to hear the principal give the same old speech she gives every year or hear the student body president, Kamo Noritoshi, give out yet another speech, he has had enough of his boring speeches as well. He really just wanted to hear your valedictorian speech. 

He was glad he did not earn the highest GPA in his year— no, it was not because he did not want to give some stupid speech, though it was part of the reason. He was beyond happy for you, instead of gloating over his own GPA which made him come in second to you, he was more thrilled over you beating him to the first spot. He was so happy that day he literally hugged you so tight, your inner organs almost spilled out from the looks of it, going as far as to lift you up in the air and making a whole show out of it. Honestly from afar it would be confusing to conclude who exactly did better, though anyone who has lingered their eyes a bit too long on Gojo Satoru knew better, which was practically the entire school, it was not surprising to see him act as such. It was rather surprising he did not tie ranks with you, considering his capacity to ace anything and everything, especially academics. But it was ordinary to see him celebrate your wins much more loudly than everyone combined.

When you asked him the question how he did not get a higher GPA than you, later over celebratory ice cream with your friend groups. He just shrugged it off and simply told you that, “Eh. I just goofed around and had a fun senior year, considering these are the most memorable years of one’s life.” with a smug smile stretched across his face, accompanied by his raised shoulders. 

“Sure, it was totally not because you were feeling too lazy.” at this point you were all too familiar with Gojo’s pattern. And unlike in the past, you found it more fun to banter with his silliness than getting angry at his conceit. It was still annoying, but not as annoying as it used to be.

“Tch. Tch. Shortcake, you just do not get the concept of fun as well as you get the concept of natural selection. ”

Despite his claims he knew why he did not surpass you, well not because he granted you that position out of pity or his obvious feelings towards you. He respected you too much to one day have you find out your achievements were not well earned, it would eat him up otherwise. Though the reason still was you, or perhaps it was his pathetic attempts at winning you over and expanding the definition of your relationship with him. 

Anyway, currently he was sitting unsteady in the back of his father’s car, stuck in a jam, not giving ear to either of his parents reassuring him from the front that they will get there in time. But unfortunately for the Gojos, their son was not the patient kind. 

Which is exactly why they didn't object much other than a few shouts when Satoru ran out of the car, with his gown and graduation hat tucked under his armpits. Thankfully they were not stuck too far from the school, but Satoru was unfortunately late for his own graduation ceremony. When he ran inside the auditorium, the hall full of parents, students, teachers, and peers alike, were staring him down— maybe for rudely interrupting the principal's speech, or for looking drop dead gorgeous while sweating buckets; it was unclear.

He silently walked up to where his class was standing and took his place in the empty space left behind for him. The principal resumed with a cough, continuing whatever faux inspirational speech she may have been talking about. His eyes roamed around frantically to land on yours, staring back at him, scrunching and raising your eyebrows in a comical way. While pointing at your watch, silently reprimanding him for his tardiness, all Satoru could do was smile and shrug like a helpless kicked puppy. But as if that has ever worked on you, so you rolled your eyes at him with the shake of your head and mouthed at him to focus on the speech.

After that very boring speech, and handing out the certificates, followed by another boring speech by Kamo Noritoshi, it was finally time for your speech. 

When you stood waiting in the left wing of the stage for your cue, he could clearly see you nervously playing with your hands. Fortunately his intense stares had you looking in his direction, so he waved his hand a little to get your focus, and just wished you a silent ‘goodluck, you got this!’ through exaggerated mouth movements.

Was it cute? Or weird? Either way, it made you smile and ease up, and that's all that matters to him. He was probably the one cheering the loudest for you among everyone in there, your parents or friends or anyone, couldn't have dared to match his voice echoing through walls, to the point the teachers had to shut him up by the very end of your speech. Because he kept clapping or whistling really loud in between every pause. 

“At the end of the day, these years we've spent here will always stick with us. For better or for worse, and all I want, is to thank those people who made it bearable through all of it. And I hope you all have a future filled with achievements, celebrated alongside those people around you, who make it bearable. Thank you very much.” 

Satoru did not cheer the loudest this time around, his silence was drowned out by the loud cheers or the flying caps around him. He was too busy standing there, a hostage to your teary eyes, and a smiling face coming down the stage.

After a few very busy hours of hugs and pictures with family and friends, and some supportive words as well as teasing lectures from the teachers; Satoru went off to find you surrounded by few people. 

“Hey!” he came behind you and spoke in a breathy whisper in your right ear.

“Ah! Satoru! Oh my goodness I've been looking for you!” You slapped his arm lightly as he tried to say, 

“Listen, I-” “I need to speak to you. Come with me. Sorry, will you excuse us?” You dragged him by his left hand, tangled with your own right hand. It is not that he has never held hands, he's done plenty more than that, but your hands meant more. And he hopes you heard his heart beating through his hands, as you held onto it and dragged him to a random empty hallway.

“I suppose this works, I was gonna drag you away myself.” He lets out a little chuckle as he settles opposite you, facing you, “I wanted to-”

“I am moving away.” 

“What?” 

“I am moving out of the country. I, um, applied to this university abroad and they accepted me. It was not confirmed until last week, I've told almost everyone but.” You take a pause and stare down at his blank face, rid off the little shy smile and blush adorning him just a second ago, before continuing, “But, I just did not- I mean, I could not just figure out how I was going to tell you.” 

Satoru lets out a dry chuckle. “What's so hard about that? Come on shortcake. It's just me.” 

“I, I know. I mean-” this time he interjects.

“Are you happy?” 

You blink twice and answer, “More than I thought I would be.” 

‘Then that's enough for me.’ Is what Satoru meant to say then, instead he said something different.

“I am really happy for you Y/n. Will miss you shortcake.” He cracks a genuine smile, despite the storm waiting to unleash in his chest through the waterworks of his eyes, regardless he was still happy in your happiness.

When you leaped into his arms with a tight grip on his back, mumbling a choked up “I'll actually miss you more dummy.” 

“Nope can’t let you have this one too.” with a chuckle he patted your head as you cried in his arms for the second time since you have known him, once was one too many times for you but here you are. Perhaps this was the last time, he thought.

“Also, I want you to have this.” you handed him a keychain, similar to yours, but instead of an orange little cat, there was a white cat attached to it. “When I saw it, it reminded me of you.” You placed the little guy on his palm, and he closed his fist around it with every intention of cherishing it for eternity. 

“I’ll see you soon right?” You asked him, as you looked up at him with tear stains on your cheek, matching the stain on his shirt, and he just nodded with a tight grip around the keychain. Maybe he was too scared to verbally give you any promises, otherwise he would start breaking down much harder than you. But one thing he was sure about,

“You'll do great shortcake, you always have.”

‘As I will always love you.’

On days as such, filled with nostalgia. Or on nights spent staring at his ceiling, wide awake, clock ticking closer and closer to the next day— he thinks of you. He thinks about the different possibilities and the most regrettable moments of his life, and thinks, what if?

What if he had chosen a different line of work instead of taking over for his father? What if he went to that pop up shop before they sold out of their limited edition creps? Or what if he chose to go to that school reunion five years ago with Suguru and everyone else. Would he have met you? 

What if he had told you he loved you that day? What if he did not wallow in his own self pity and made a better effort at reaching out to you when you suddenly stopped contacting him during second year of University? What if he swallowed down the resentment over your silence and flew across the globe to you? Would not have been the first time he did that. It was the automated voice telling him that the number he dialed does not exist anymore, and the complete refusal from mutual friends to let him know about your whereabouts—that irked him. What did he do so wrong for you to even remove the little pleasure he enjoyed from having you at the very least as a friend. 

Maybe if he asked you selfishly to not move away altogether, things would have been different. But how could he, when he never had any concrete dreams of his own other than pursuing in his father's footsteps, to now take over for him. The way your eyes always shined bright with aspirations, and the amount of hard work you put into achieving them, made him try for himself.  

Then how could he have been selfish with the one person whom he selflessly gave away his heart to? 

“Sato! Come eat! Finish that later!” his mother shouted from inside, breaking the trance of reminiscence. “Yesss mom!” he shouted back to let her know.

And when he set to go inside, he felt something heavy on his legs. While cleaning the boxes, Satoru had gone to sit on the edge of the patio, with his legs hanging from his edge. The height was long enough to have him lose his sight about where his legs were below the knees to his feet comfortably touching the ground. 

When he crouched down to look at what was weighing him down, he found a white fluffy cat; clearly well taken care of, lying comfortably, belly up, on top of both of his feet. Set of blue hued pupils peeking out of his blinking eyes. And a smug smile of contentment on his face, either satisfied with his nap or from annoying Satoru. As cute of a look alike  this cat may have been to the one on the keychain you gave him—which he still uses everyday to hold all his important keyes—Satoru could tell that this cat was one big menace. 

“Meowwww” the feline wailed, when Satoru moved his feet off the ground to take a proper look at the creature. The cat in search of his confiscated comfort, crawled up his legs, up to his lap and made himself comfortable. 

Satoru leans back to rest his weight on both of his palms, placed on either side of his torso. He lets out a dry huff “Huh. aren’t you one spoiled little guy?”

“Meow.” the cat quips as if agreeing with Satoru, his eyes were closed, trying to get back his lost sleep.

“And what is your name?” Satoru asked the cat and felt foolish that very next instance. Instead of waiting for the cat’s response—because that will obviously not answer his question—he goes to check the yellow collar adorned on the cat’s neck to check for a nametag.

“ICHIGO!” a loud familiar voice cried behind the hedges that protected the view into his parent’s front yard. 

Upon hearing the call, the cat’s ears sprung up and went back, going alert. In a blink of an eye the cat ran off of his lap, out of their main gate— in what seemed like mere seconds. And his parent’s house is pretty huge, the patio to the front gate takes well over thirty seconds to get to when you are in a hurry. 

So Satoru ran behind the cat, well after it was gone from his sight, worrying it might run into something or hurt himself. But just as he stepped out of the gate, he saw the cat cuddled up in a person’s arms, who was crouched down in relief, obstructing the view to their face. Though the shade of the hair is much familiar to him just as the voice, but the length now shorter than how he remembers it to be. But that same citrus and peony scent remained, infiltrating his olfactory sense before his eyes could fathom the figure in front of him. Or maybe he did not want to believe the reality of the situation to begin with. 

“Never do that again! Do you know how scared I was? Why would you run after a butterfly like that!? I am never letting you off your leash again!” You held the cat out, away from your embrace, finally standing straight. Dangling him in the air by his arms, like some sort of punishment.

“Meowww” the cat whined in a pitiful tone, moving his claws in a way as if asking to be held closer again.

“No Ichi. No amount of whining is getting you out of this mister!” while reprimanding the cat, you forgot to acknowledge the person standing upfront.

“Y/n?” 

You look up to see who called you out in the middle of scolding your cat. To only see another ball of familiar white fluffy hair, and cerulean eyes, the ones you’ve once loathed with your entire being, and dreamed of countless nights. Standing a few inches taller than what his previously already behemoth height during teen years used to be.

“Satoru?” 

Both of you stood there confused and mesmerized by one another’s presence, to have run into each other under such coincidental circumstances, how fateful. With a more confused Ichigo looking back and forth between you two, now standing on his own four legs on the ground. Probably trying to solve the mystery of the heavy silence and air hanging between you two. From the looks of the mirrored shock, and open mouthed gasps that left your respective mouths—seems like this unanticipated meeting was long overdue.

The beauty of fate truly lies in such oblivious encounters. And those who sneak into your life just as unexpectedly, as they fade out wordlessly.

FIND OUT MORE ABOUT HS!SATORU

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tag list: @madamechrissy @cuntphoric @moonlitwitchdaisy @rriwyu @naomigojo @aishi-toru @cuntyji @arcanarix @fuwagojo @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @indiewritesxoxo @fushitoru @gojosoups @arcanarix @moonchhu @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @emyyy007 @ineedbetterhobbies0809 @littlemisswitch67

a/n: the above used images are from Pinterest, the Gojo one is from the s2 ending and the other two images, i could not find any exact sources so if you know where they are from please kindly let me know. the dividers are by— @/aquazero, @/kodaswrld @/cafekitsune & @/oldgifs4coding, respectively.

thank you to the pookies for beta reading this <3 really my longest work yet. yes it is a bit cliche but oh well. took a lottt of time to finish, first it was finals, then mental and physical health was at all time low, then literally burnt my hand. the part of the valedictorian speech the reader gave, was part of my own speech i gave at my graduation as the head girl, so if you found it shit i better not hear about it.

named her cat Ichigo, because well he calls her shortcake, and ichigo means strawberry. so strawberry and shortcake :3c

happy to have him out ^^ i hope you had fun reading this!! i have a few drabbles and such related to this i plan on releasing. still not sure if i plan to expand their ending :3c ahhh this was not going to be an open ending, but here we areeee

anywayyyy hope your enjoyed your stay ^^ make sure to share your thoughts in the ask box and comments.

[darknight3904]

It Burns For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears

A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.

"I already ate it." He lied

"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.

"Is it your first day?" He asks

"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said

Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.

You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words

"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."

The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.

"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.

"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said

Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.

"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "

And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.

"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.

Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.

He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.

"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds

"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.

"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says

"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks

He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.

"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."

His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.

"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."

Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.

He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,

"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"

He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.

Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.

"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking

You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.

"What're you doing?" You ask quietly

"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.

The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.

"Coryo...what was that?" You ask

"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip

"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask

"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."

Part 2 is out now!

Series Masterlist

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 6

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 , Chapter 11 , Chapter 12 , Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“How long have you known him?” Bucky’s voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp, watching every reaction.

“Five years,” you answered, keeping your tone steady. You didn’t want him to pick up on any hint of tension.

Bucky frowned, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at him. Ian seemed like a typical journalist, but something else about him gnawed at Bucky's instincts.

He rarely interacted with foreign reporters, so why did Ian’s presence feel… off? He was sure he'd figure out why this feeling wouldn't leave him.

Before either of you could say more, Greg appeared, clipboard in hand, and gave you both a pointed look. “Alright, you two, time to get ready. The event’s about to start. Let’s make sure everything runs smoothly.”

You nodded, feeling the butterflies in your stomach begin to stir. You’d been on stages before, but not like this. Not with Bucky, not under the gaze of an entire country.

Bucky noticed your hesitation and moved closer, placing a firm hand on your lower back. “It’s going to be fine,” he whispered, his voice low and reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

You looked up at him, trying to read his eyes. Was he just saying that for the cameras? Or was there something deeper there? It was getting harder to tell. You nodded anyway, more for yourself than for him, and straightened up. You had to play your part, just as you always did.

At the Convention

The large venue buzzed with excitement, lights shining down on the stage like spotlights in an arena. When Steve Rogers walked up to the podium, the room went silent, all eyes on him. He was the golden candidate—charismatic, confident, the embodiment of what the people wanted.

The room buzzed with anticipation as Steve Rogers approached the podium, every eye in the venue locked onto him. He stood tall, his presence commanding, radiating the quiet strength he was known for. After a brief moment, he began speaking, his voice steady but filled with passion.

"Ladies and gentlemen, fellow Americans," Steve’s voice echoed with gravitas, "Today, we stand at the threshold of a new era. We face challenges that require not just strong leadership, but leadership rooted in integrity, honor, and the unyielding belief in the power of the people."

The crowd quieted further, hanging on his every word.

"For too long, we’ve watched division grow. But I believe in the strength of unity, the strength of standing together—one nation, bound by a shared responsibility to protect our freedom, our families, and our future. And I pledge to lead with the same unwavering commitment that I’ve given to this country my entire life."

He took a brief pause, allowing his words to sink in, then continued, his tone growing more impassioned.

"I am not just here as a candidate, but as a father, a husband, and a son," he said, gesturing toward his wife, Peggy, and their children standing nearby, his parents behind them. "I want a better world for my family—just as I want a better world for yours. A world where opportunity isn’t reserved for the few but shared by the many. A world where every child grows up in safety, with access to education, health, and the opportunity to pursue their dreams."

The applause began to rise, but Steve held his hand up gently, signaling for quiet once more.

"This is not just my campaign. This is our campaign. Together, we will fight for a future that respects the dignity of every individual. We will build an America where justice is not selective but a right for all. Where leadership is about service—not power."

His voice crescendoed, igniting the room.

"Because I believe in us. I believe in the promise of America, and I believe in the strength of the American people. Together, we will rise to meet the challenges of today, and together, we will create a brighter, fairer, and stronger tomorrow."

The room erupted into thunderous applause as Steve’s words settled over the crowd. He stepped back, waving, as Peggy and their children joined him at the front of the stage, a living testament to the family values he championed.

With that, Steve Rogers sealed the moment—an electrifying speech that echoed far beyond the walls of the convention hall.

The crowd erupted into applause as Steve stepped aside, making way for Bucky.

Now it was his turn.

You watched as Bucky walked to the podium with the practiced ease of a man who was born for this. His dark suit was perfectly tailored, the overhead lights catching the sharp angles of his face. As soon as he began speaking, the room hushed again.

“I want to thank everyone for being here today,” Bucky started, his voice strong, yet warm. “Serving alongside Steve has been the honor of my life, and I am proud to stand here as the candidate for Vice President. My family—my parents Julius and Caroline, my siblings Shawn and Hazel, my nephew Nate, and my brother-in-law Tim—are with me today.” He motioned to the side, where they all stood. Caroline’s expression was as rigid as ever, while Julius offered a rare smile.

Then Bucky’s eyes found you.

“And of course, my wife. She’s been my rock. She’s stood by me through the hardest times, and I can’t imagine being here without her.” His voice softened, but the sincerity in his words cut through the noise in your head.

You smiled on cue, the kind of smile you’d perfected over years of practice. But inside, everything felt muddled. Bucky spoke as though you were his whole world, but you knew the truth. This was a performance. A calculated move to protect his image.

The applause was thunderous, but it sounded far away as you fought the emotions swirling inside you. Bucky looked the part—strong, dependable, built for this kind of role. He was doing everything right.

But you? You were pretending. The smile you wore for the cameras wasn’t for him; it was for the part of you that wanted to see Caroline suffer, to see her envy every look Bucky gave you on that stage. But underneath the spite, you felt something deeper, something far more complicated.

'Can I really keep doing this?' The question lodged itself in your mind as the applause rang out again.

You watched Bucky continue his speech, looking every bit the man of the moment. He thrived in this atmosphere, while you felt like you were drowning in a sea of lies. Every glance from the audience, every flash from the cameras, reminded you that none of this was real.

When he finished, the room erupted in applause again. Bucky turned to you, offering his hand. The warmth of his palm against yours was meant to be reassuring, but it only deepened your confusion.

As you both exited the stage, his grip tightened slightly, just enough for you to notice. He leaned down, voice low in your ear. “You did great,” he whispered. His words were laced with a strange tenderness that made your stomach flip.

You nodded, but deep down, the weight of this act was crushing you.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the convention wrapped up and the crowd began to disperse, you and Bucky maneuvered Tim’s wheelchair carefully. The excitement of the day was still buzzing in the air, but you could sense the underlying tension between Bucky and Ian as Ian approached you and Tim.

Ian greeted you with a friendly smile. “Hey, I’m working on a piece about the election from the perspective of the candidates’ families. What’s it like for you and your family during all this?”

Bucky, standing beside you, made a subtle move to place himself between you and Ian, a protective gesture that didn't go unnoticed. “I’m not sure if that’s appropriate,” Bucky began, but Tim cut him off.

“Of course! I’ve never been interviewed before. It’ll be good to share my side,” Tim said eagerly, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.

Bucky looked at Tim, then at you, his frustration evident in the tightness of his jaw. He sighed and stepped aside, unable to argue with Tim’s excitement or your reluctance to refuse a friend’s request.

Ian turned to you, his expression curious. “You never mentioned your brother before. It’s clear you two have a strong bond.”

“She’s a private person,” Tim interjected with a hint of pride.

Ian raised an eyebrow, glancing back at you. “You really seem to know her well.”

“We may not always show it, but we’re very close. She’s been like a second mother to me, especially after I lost my leg,” Tim said, his voice carrying an unusual warmth.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at the unexpected praise from your brother. It was rare to hear him speak so openly about his feelings.

Ian smiled as he jotted down notes. “This story is going to resonate with a lot of people.”

After a while, Tim excused himself, leaving you and Ian alone. Ian’s demeanor shifted subtly, becoming more serious.

“Thanks for giving him the chance to speak,” you said with a slight edge. “You know, it feels like you just handed him a chance to embarrass me.”

Ian chuckled softly, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “Isn’t that what siblings do? Cherish these moments of difference before it’s too late.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean,-?”

Before you could ask, Ian pulled you aside, his face set with determination. “I heard there’s a divorce in your marriage.”

You stiffened, your eyes widening in surprise. “How did you find out?”

Ian’s smirk was almost smug. “Don’t underestimate my skills. You vanished, then reappeared, acting like everything’s perfect. I pieced it together from the campaign.”

He leaned closer, his frustration evident. “Not once did you mention him. And now, suddenly, you’re playing the loving wife. It’s irritating.”

You crossed your arms, feeling a wave of anger and discomfort. “Are you planning to use this information?”

Ian’s expression softened, though his eyes were intense. “I don’t know yet. But a few people already know.”

You flinched at his words, a shiver running down your spine.

Ian’s voice dropped to a reassuring whisper. “Don’t worry. They’ve only heard rumors. No one has solid evidence. I could protect you. Because you deserve someone better.”

You gulped, unable to speak. Ian’s concern seemed genuine, but you couldn’t shake off the pain from your marriage with Bucky. Your emotions were still tangled, and you didn’t want to get involved with Ian’s feelings, especially now.

You glanced up and saw Bucky watching you from across the room. His eyes were locked on you, his gaze sharp and intense. It felt like he was assessing every movement, every word. The tension in his stare made your heart race, and you could almost feel his frustration and jealousy from afar.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

As the car sped through the night, the backseat felt increasingly cramped, the air thick with unspoken tension. You stared out the window, trying to avoid Bucky’s piercing gaze. The city lights flickered past, a blur of neon and shadows, as you stewed over the conversation with Ian and the unresolved questions it left.

Bucky's silence was more oppressive than any words. His jaw was set tight, and the muscles in his neck were rigid. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold, laced with an edge of command. “Don’t meet Ian anymore.”

You continued to look out the window, your reflection a ghostly image against the darkened glass. “He knew about the divorce,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky’s breath hitched, his grip on the seat tightening. He was silent for a moment, the weight of your revelation settling in. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Well, that means I’m on the right track. Every politician has skeletons in their closet.”

You turned your head sharply to face him, eyes narrowing. “You’re not afraid if the rumor leaks out?”

Bucky’s gaze remained steady, but his jaw tightened slightly. “I’m not gonna lie, I am afraid. But I’m more worried about how it’ll affect you.” He paused “But look at the bright side. It narrows down the list of people who knew about our marriage.”

You turned to him, eyes narrowing in frustration. “You’re playing with fire, Bucky.”

He leaned closer, the space between you shrinking rapidly. His expression softened into a smirk, but his eyes held a dangerous glint. “I’ll win this for you. I still remember that moment when you wished me to win, just to spite my mother. I need that brave Y/N.”

You could feel the heat from his body, his breath mingling with yours as he drew nearer. The car’s dim lighting accentuated the intensity in his eyes, a smoldering gaze that made your pulse quicken. “Don’t make this about me,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Bucky’s smirk deepened, and he moved even closer, his face inches from yours. “But babe, this is all for you,” he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl.

His proximity was overwhelming, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body. You swallowed hard, the line between anger and something else entirely blurring as his lips almost brushed against yours.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you were caught between the anger at his manipulation and the undeniable pull of the unresolved feelings you still harbored for him. The confined space of the car seemed to shrink around you, the air charged with a mix of frustration and unspoken desire.

Bucky’s gaze locked onto yours, his smirk fading into an expression of intense focus. His hand reached out, fingertips grazing your cheek in a feather-light touch that made your skin tingle. “I need you to trust me,” he said softly, his voice carrying an almost desperate edge.

You hated him for the pain he’d caused, but his touch betrayed your emotions, making it hard to stay firm. And he knew it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face.only the charged, almost unbearable closeness between you.

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[royalarchivist]

Bad: I don't think we've reached an ending, but we've reached an end for some things. [...] There are no permanent endings, Chat. There are no permanent goodbyes. Only goodbyes for now. Only goodbyes for now, ok?

Bad talks a little bit to his chat about the Egg admins leaving, and the future.

[ Transcript ↓ ]

—

Bad: All right, Chat. I need to have a serious talk with you for a little bit. Here Pepito, I'm gonna keep riding! Sorry Pepito, I’ll keep riding. I'm gonna have a serious talk with the Chat since we got 12 minutes to kill.

But yes, Chat. Yes, some of the… Eggies are leaving, which I know is a really sad thing to see following such a fun and happy day of Murder Mystery, which was really fun. And I know– as far as I know right now, just, I'm aware that I was– I'm aware that Pepito— er, not- sorry, Pepito is behind me, see Pepito? He's right there.

As far as I know, Chat, right now I'm aware of Richas left, or will be leaving, Lullah will be leaving, and I believe Chayanne will be leaving. And… it's really heartbreaking. And it's hard to talk about, obviously, ‘cuz we made so many memories with them over the past year. So… I think, I don't know. Obviously like, there's things I wanna say, things I will say, things I won't say, you know… And I just… I dunno. Right now just gonna… filling you guys in. But uh, yeah, they will no longer be around. So… Yeah, it’s very sad, I’m very sad. But I think… I don't think– or at least I'd say I hope that it's not the end of any particular adventures for them going forward.

And I don't know, we'll see what the future holds for any particular thing. You feel me? Just like– just enjoy the memories today. Relish in the sadness chat. Embrace the sadness for a bit, and understand that like, I think tomorrow will be better, and just give the love and appreciation to the amazing people— give the love and appreciation, Chat, to the amazing people of the project who worked so hard and put their heart and soul into everything they did. All of the Eggy actors, all the builders, all the people who worked on everything. Each one of them. I think each one of the Eggs really put themselves into their characters.

Obviously, in particular, I was particularly close to Dapper, Pomme, and Richas, and I'm gonna miss them the most, obviously, Chat. I don't know personally, I don't know what my– I can't speak necessarily on what my future holds because… you know, in regards to anything ‘cuz I'm just kinda going through the emotions right now and just kind of feeling the emotions, you know?

[Groans] I dunno, Chat. I’m just feelin’ it, and sometimes it’s hard to put things into words. You know? When you’re feeling stuff. So… It's hard to play, uh… it's hard to play Minecraft with, um, with people for so long, Chat. You know, to spend so much time with people. And you guys were here for the ride, you were here for the journey. Don't be sad when a particular ride happens, Chat. Be happy you were able to ride it to begin with. Ok?

I think– I feel– I think personally, Chat, I feel very blessed to have been able to experience the– and do this stuff I've been able to, you know?

[Long silence]

Ah, we're almost there, we're almost there, Chat.

[Sighs, then reads a chat message] “Thank you for bringing us on this journey with you” I don't think—

One: I don't think the journey is over completely, right? I can't say with certainty Chat, what the future holds, right? And I don't know– I don't know what the future holds, Chat. I don't think– I don't think we've reached an ending, but we have– we’ve reached the end for some things, yes. And as for what it means– what I mean by “an ending,” I dunno. We'll see what happens, you know? I think the chapter as far as like— obviously, like… you know, when you graduate school for example, right? It is an ending of sorts. It's an ending of THAT experience, right? The experience that you had with those particular people in that particular place. It's not an ending to those people, or your interactions with those people. You feel me?

[Sighs] There's other things I want to say Chat, but… I’m doin’ my best to just keep myself reigned in a little bit. Guess I'm feeling a little- a lil’ emotional. Trying to reign in those emotions, you know? One day at a time. But make sure you're following, and stick around, because I have a feeling we'll have more fun stuff that you guys will not want to miss. Trust me. Trust me Chat, every day is gonna be an adventure.

[maskedbyghost]

Shadows of Obsession (part 12)

part 1 last chapter, full of fluff and smut, so MDNI, +18 content, that's it. they are just fucking and loving each other.... ok bye.

Simon’s eyes were fixed on her, wide awake long before the sun began to filter through the curtains. His body lay beside hers, close enough that their legs tangled beneath the blanket. Her head rested on his chest, the steady rise and fall of her chest a calming rhythm beneath his hand, which gently stroked her hair. He couldn't bring himself to move, to even blink too quickly.

He could hardly believe she was there, with him, in his arms. It felt like a dream, the aftermath of everything that happened between them, the words they’d both said in the heat of the moment, all fading into the background.

Everything about her was perfect—the curve of her lips as they relaxed into a smile even while asleep, the gentle way she nuzzled closer as though she too had nowhere else to be. He never thought he’d deserve something like this, but here she was, tangled in his arms like she was meant to be there forever.

She shifted slightly, stirring in her sleep, and Simon’s heart skipped a beat. Her eyelashes fluttered, her nose crinkling in the way it always did when she woke, and for a split second, his mind was filled with nothing but the instinct to pull her even closer, to make sure this reality stayed unbroken. He wasn’t going to let her slip away. Not again.

Slowly, he let his thumb brush against her cheek, the motion gentle, as if she might disappear if he touched her too hard. Her breath hitched, and her eyes opened, blinking in the soft morning light. For a brief moment, she looked disoriented, but then she lifted her head just slightly, meeting his gaze.

“You’re awake,” she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.

“Mhmm,” Simon murmured against her head. There was no mistaking the soft obsession in the way his gaze drank her in. “I can't believe you're really here.”

She chuckled softly, her hand sliding across his chest, fingertips grazing the place where his heart beat fiercely beneath his shirt. “Of course I’m here," she said sleepily. “Where else would I be?”

Simon's hand moved to cradle the back of her neck, guiding her back to his chest. “Don’t ever leave,” he said, as he kissed the top of her head, then pressed his lips there a second time.

“I’m not going anywhere,” she promised, the sleepiness fading slightly as she settled into him.

And for a moment, as they lay there together, the outside world didn’t exist—just the two of them in their little bubble, wrapped up in their version of love. Simon couldn’t stop looking at her, still unable to fully believe this was his reality. That she was his. That she hadn’t walked away, that she was here, and he could hold her forever if he wanted to.

For once, he felt nothing but peace. And as long as she stayed there, in his arms, the rest of the world could wait for a bit.

A few hours later, the kitchen smelled of coffee, sizzling bacon, and something sweet—maybe pancakes, maybe waffles. But all that really mattered to her was the sight of Simon, standing at the stove in nothing but some gray sweatpants. The way his broad shoulders moved as he flipped the bacon, the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he added just the right amount of batter to the pan—it was domestic in a way that still caught her off guard.

She leaned against the doorway, watching him, arms crossed over her chest, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

She knew what he was like now. She’d seen the cracks in him, the parts of him that still bled even after he tried to heal them. Simon’s love was never going to be gentle; it would never be neat, wrapped in clean little bows with easy promises.

He had fought, broken, and rebuilt himself piece by piece, and in that wreckage, he had found a love that wasn’t pure, but real. His love was possessive and obsessive, a deep craving that would burn through anything standing between him and what he desired.

But even in his darkness, in the parts that still unsettled her—she saw how desperately he needed her, how much he cared in ways that words could never explain.

It was a love she hadn’t expected to survive—hell, sometimes she didn’t think she could survive it. But when she looked at him now, doing something as simple as cooking breakfast like it was just another day, she knew that she had made the right decision.

He looked over at her, catching her watching him as he set the bacon on a paper towel to drain. His lips curled softly, his eyes twinkling. “You gonna stand there all morning, or are you going to come get some?”

Her eyes flicked to his, noticing how that small smirk lit up his entire face. She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she took a step closer, biting the inside of her cheek as she watched him.

Her arms shifted, slowly uncrossing, just a little more open, and in a heartbeat, she found herself leaning into him. Her fingertips brushed the side of his arm as she passed, the warmth of his skin heating her own.

When she got close enough, Simon reached out, a firm hand capturing her waist and pulling her in until their bodies were close enough that there was no denying the tension between them.

The scent of bacon was still thick in the air, but all she could focus on was Simon. The heat of him, the way his thumb gently traced along her skin, as though he had to touch her constantly. His fingers curled to the back of her neck, tugging her closer until their breath mingled.

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” she murmured, her voice hushed, teasing him the way he so often teased her. Her hands slid up his chest, lingering there like she could memorize the way he felt with every inch she touched.

He chuckled, low and rough. “Not when it comes to you.”

He moved his hand, cupping her chin and tilting her face upward just enough for him to lean in, his lips hovered an inch away.

"You were staring," he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against hers with each word, so close, so close that it sent a flicker of heat sparking through her body. "You want me that bad, huh?"

A spark of challenge ignited inside her as she lifted one hand, brushing the edge of his lips before sliding it lower, slowly, tracing the edge of his jaw. “Just as much as you want me,” she replied.

His lips caught hers then, in a kiss so deep and consuming that she forgot about the warmth of the stove and the plate of breakfast still waiting for them. His body was tight against hers, and the kiss was hungry and insistent. His hands roamed, greedy, pulling her in like he couldn’t keep away from her. His touch was like fire—his palm on the small of her back, the other sliding through the hair at her neck, keeping her locked to him.

She didn’t pull back. Not even when his breath hitched against her cheek, when his lips trailed down her neck, desperate, marking. Her hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer until she felt his heart beating rapidly, just as out of control as hers.

“You’re trouble,” she muttered, her hand slipping into his hair.

A grin tugged at his lips. “And you love it.”

She pulled him back to her lips again, everything else fading out entirely. What mattered now were the hands that always seemed to find their way back to each other, the burning pull of their connection, and the way Simon always found a way to make her crave him more.

-

Simon’s boots thudded heavily against the floor as he made his way back toward his office, his thoughts preoccupied with the mission ahead. He needed to focus, to get into the right headspace. But when he rounded the corner, his eyes automatically locked on her. She was standing in the hallway, talking with one of the younger soldiers, a man Simon didn’t recognize.

At first, Simon just watched from a distance, waiting. But then the guy's laugh carried across the hallway. And that was it.

The soldier—probably some rookie, trying to make himself look good in front of her—was clearly making an attempt to flirt, leaning in just a little too close for Simon’s liking. It wasn’t the usual professional interaction Simon was used to seeing. No, this was different. This guy was pushing the limits.

“I don’t know, you’re a pretty cool girl. We should grab a drink sometime, just the two of us. What do you think?” The soldier grinned, his hand casually brushing along her arm. He was way too touchy, and it sent a violent surge of possessiveness through Simon’s veins.

He was already heading toward them, but when he saw the soldier reach out to touch her arm—his fucking hand on her—his heart raced. Every instinct in him screamed to act. To remind this guy exactly where his place was.

By the time he was near enough, Simon’s expression was cold. “You want to do what?”

The soldier whipped around, startled by Simon’s low voice. His face turned pale the moment he recognized Simon—the imposing figure of his lieutenant, fury practically emanating from his every movement.

"Uh, sir, I—" the soldier stammered, clearly caught off guard. He stood rigid, but Simon didn’t care. His eyes bore into the man, the unspoken warning clear: Leave. Now.

The soldier managed a nervous laugh. "I didn't realize—"

Simon stepped forward, towering over him in an instant, his fist clenched at his side, his glare more threatening than anything the soldier had ever seen. “Touch her again, and I’ll make sure you regret it,” Simon growled. His voice was like a snarl, a sound that promised nothing but pain. The soldier instantly stiffened and, without another word, backed away, his face pale as he turned and fled in the opposite direction.

Simon didn’t spare him another glance. His focus was solely on her now.

She stood still, her lips slightly parted, watching him with wide eyes. She wasn’t scared—no, that wasn’t it. There was amusement dancing in her gaze, maybe even a little surprise, but Simon didn't care about any of that. His possessive need surged again, filling him to the brim.

Without any words, he strode over to her, grabbed her wrist with his, and pulled her toward him. “We’re done here. Come with me.”

She didn't resist—she never did. Instead, she only gave him a teasing smile. “You really scared him off that easily, huh?”

He didn’t respond at first, just kept pulling her toward his office. But as soon as they reached the door, he spun her around, pushing it open with his shoulder, and slammed it shut behind them. His pulse was pounding, his body rock hard with need, and it only grew when he saw the way she raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the whole thing.

“You,” Simon gritted out, his voice low, barely controlled, “are mine. No one’s gonna touch you but me. Ever. You don’t let anyone think they can come close.”

Her smile softened, almost teasing. She stepped closer, her breath hitching as he backed her up toward the desk. She didn’t argue, didn’t even say a word. Simon could see it in her eyes—she loved the fire, the way he wanted her, needed her in a way that no one else ever could. And honestly, neither of them had a problem with that.

He pressed his body into hers, his breath hot against her ear, one hand snaking around to grip her waist possessively.

“Are you mad?” she murmured, unable to hide her amused smile.

“Mad?” He leaned in to whisper against her neck, his lips brushing against her skin. His voice was rough. “You think I’m mad?” His fingers tightened on her waist, lifting her effortlessly. “No. I’m fucking pissed. At him. And you...” His lips pulled away just enough to look into her eyes. “You know what you do to me.”

She gasped, her back arching as he walked the rest of the way toward his desk with her in his arms, both of them already too tangled up in each other to care about anything but the moment. As he sat on the desk, pulling her between his legs, the world around them vanished.

“No one’s taking what’s mine.”

Her body pressed even closer to him, and she chuckled breathlessly. “And what is yours, Simon? Everything?”

“You’re fucking right it is.” His mouth was on her neck again, his hands moving urgently to unbutton her shirt, his fingers grazing along her skin as he pulled it open. “Don’t even think about trying to pull away. I’m not done with you yet.”

With her hands still on his shoulders, she smirked, her fingers brushing his neck with a soft touch. “I think I’m beginning to like this possessive side of you.”

Simon grinned fiercely, his eyes dark with need. “Good. You don’t have another choice.”

In an instant, their clothes were scattered haphazardly on the floor as their bodies became tangled in desperate need. Simon’s hands were everywhere—gripping, pulling, urging her closer, hungry for the feel of her skin beneath his. Every inch of her seemed to ignite under his touch, and she shivered, caught in the overwhelming intensity of him.

With one powerful motion, Simon shifted their position, lifting her effortlessly onto the edge of the table. His eyes darkened as he stood between her legs, his hands tracing the lines of her body as though committing her to memory as if there was no possible way he could ever get enough. His lips found the curve of her neck first, hot and needy, his mouth trailing over the sensitive skin there, kissing his way down to her collarbone. Each kiss was slow, savoring every inch of her.

She moaned softly, tilting her head back to allow him better access, her breath hitching as he continued his slow journey. His lips moved lower, brushing over her breast, teasing the sensitive skin with hot, open-mouthed kisses that had her body trembling with anticipation. His fingers grazed over her side, gently tugging her closer, his lips curling into a smile against her skin when she gasped at the sensation.

Simon’s hands drifted further, cupping the curve of her waist before he kissed lower, pressing his lips against her stomach, the heat of his breath making her stomach tighten. His kisses were like fire, licking at her skin, worshipping her in a way that left her breathless.

“God, I need you,” he murmured against her skin, his voice rough. His hands gently pried her thighs apart, his gaze dark and filled with need, devouring every inch of her as though she was all he could see.

He went lower still, his mouth trailing along the top of her thigh, the slow, sensual path towards what he craved. His lips brushed against her skin like a promise of what was to come. She gasped at the touch, feeling every part of her body tighten in anticipation, her fingers gripping the edge of the table for something to hold onto as Simon’s movements became more urgent, more possessive.

Everything about the way he kissed her—every stroke of his tongue, every teasing nip—was a declaration. The depth of his need for her came in waves, and she wanted nothing more than to surrender to him completely.

He leaned in, his lips teasing along her most sensitive spot, his tongue slowly drawing circles against her, savoring the feel of her trembling beneath him.

Every movement was purposeful, dragging out her moans as he focused on the area that made her arch toward him.

"Simon, please…" Her breath was shallow and desperate, and her words made him lose control, feeding into the hunger he couldn't suppress.

His hands gripped her hips tighter as he deepened his attention, coaxing her closer to the edge.

She whimpered, her body unable to hold back, and as the overwhelming sensation crashed over her, she tried to muffle her scream of his name, clenching the table beneath her. He didn’t stop, not until she was trembling in his grasp, completely undone.

He stood up, kissing her with such intensity that it stole her breath away.

"I’ve got you," Simon muttered between kisses, his forehead resting against hers. “I’ll always have you.”

Every kiss was a promise. Every touch was a statement that there was no turning back from this. Not for either of them.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing more. And he gave her all of it until the whole world seemed to disappear outside of that office. Just the feel of his skin against hers, the thundering rhythm of their heartbeats tangled together, a symphony of emotions they couldn’t untangle.

Simon lifted his head, his fingers brushing against her skin, watching the way she responded to him, eyes darker than usual, pupils blown with desire. “You have no idea how much I want you," he whispered, each word dripping with emotion.

“Then show me,” she said, pulling him back into the kiss, her voice soft.

And this time, Simon didn’t hold back. In one swift motion, he filled her up, making her gasp and grab onto his arms for support.

“Fuck, baby.” He whispered, eyes closed for a moment before he quickly opened them again. He didn't want to miss even a tiny bit of an expression on her face.

Ever since their first time together, he had been utterly captivated by the sight of her face in those intimate moments—every subtle change in her expression, every soft breath escaping her lips, the way her eyes fluttered closed as pleasure overtook her.

It was as if he couldn’t get enough, drinking in every detail with a hunger that felt almost possessive. And now, in this moment, nothing had changed. She was still his greatest obsession, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, his heart racing in sync with each soft gasp she gave.

He moved slowly, savoring each delicate expression that flickered across her face as his hands gently roamed over her. Every moan, every breathless whisper of his name made him feel like he was losing himself in her, as though she was a world he could never fully possess, yet desperately needed.

His eyes never left hers, his gaze growing darker as he took in every detail, studying her body as though trying to memorize it, to make it his in a way words never could.

His hands slid beneath her, gripping her in an intoxicating way. She didn’t know if she was still on the desk or if she’d been lifted into the air—Simon’s touch was enough to make everything feel weightless, his fingers finding her, teasing and stroking until she was helpless to do anything but arch into him, chasing the release he promised with every shift of his body.

“Si—” Her voice barely formed, as if she couldn’t piece together coherent words.

He kissed her roughly, a taste of urgency seeping through him as he stole her breath, his body pressed into hers, too much, everything spinning. His lips moved to her ear, voice a guttural growl. “You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice almost cruel in the way it twisted something inside her. “Every inch of you is mine.”

Her fingers clutched at his hair, trying to ground herself, but it was no use—Simon was making sure she didn’t have an ounce of composure left. He was in a frenzy, and so was she. Her thoughts were slipping further, spiraling down into a dizzying haze where all that mattered was his hands, his mouth, his scent invading every space of her mind.

She could barely hear herself, too consumed by the ache between her legs, by the way his fingertips drew magic across her skin. “God, Simon, please...”

He grinned against her skin, drawing back slightly to look her in the eyes—dark and intent on her. “You want more of me, baby?” His hand gripped her even harder.

Her mind couldn’t keep up, couldn’t think past him as he took what he needed from her.

They were both close and it took only a few more deep thrusts from Simon to get them over that beautiful edge. He groaned as her eyes rolled back, screaming his name one last time.

Simon’s grip tightened around her as they held each other, their breath ragged, but the connection between them unbreakable. She held his gaze, eyes locked with his, unable to look away as they both hung in that moment of shared release.

He pulled her even closer, his large hand gently cradling the back of her head, his fingers threading through her hair. She smiled softly, a satisfied curve of her lips that made him feel like he had all the world’s treasures right there in his arms. He kissed the top of her head, pressing his lips against her hair as if sealing their moment with a promise.

“Mine, always,” he whispered into the soft strands, his words barely audible.

She smiled again, more radiant now, her head leaning into his touch, the last remnants of their shared passion still buzzing between them. “I’m yours,” she murmured, her voice sweet, the words weaving into the air between them like a gentle melody. “Only yours.”

He tightened his arms around her, breathing in deeply as if grounding himself in the warmth of her skin. Every inch of her felt perfect, every part of this moment carved into him. “Good,” he muttered, “because I’m not letting go.”

She was content and happy in the most beautiful way. As she nestled against his chest, feeling his heart slow and steady beneath her ear, her smile lingered, a feeling of home settling over her.

In his arms, she knew she was exactly where she was meant to be.

----------------------------------------

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving @blackhawkfanatic @identity2212 @tessakate @lem-hhn @bimboghostface @kylies-love-letter @ghost-haunts-me @lostmypopsicle @tired-writers-world

[lokisprettygirl]

Fix You Fix me (Bill Skarsgård! Eric Draven x Female Reader) (Au)

Read Chapter 11 here / Series Masterlist

Chapter 12

Summary : You find yourself thinking about your new obsession all the time. He has a name. It's Eric.

Warning: Fat shaming, body shaming, manipulation, domestic violence, child abuse, cheating, reader lacks bit of a spine, emotional abuse, reader's weight will be mentioned because the fic demands it

“You know you didn't have to bring me here, i would have been up soon” Patricia said as she caressed his scalp, he had his head placed down on the hospital bed, right next to her hand.

“You know I can't take that kind of risk with you ..i can't lose you” he spoke , voice still stricken with fear as he looked up at her so she smiled. A comforting smile that always made him feel better.

She knew how much he loved her but the same love that brought her comfort also filled her with worry. Someday she'd have to leave him even if she didn't want to, and she worried that he wouldn't be able to cope with that loss.

Since that horrible night and after Eric had been released from the prison, Patricia had been the center of his universe, everything he did, he did it for her, to provide her a life where she would not have to live on scraps and mercy of others.

Eric was always a shy, sweet boy, and then he spent his early adult years in prison, when he came out he pushed himself into jobs like being a security guard, a waiter, a janitor, whatever he could get his hands on, whatever paid the best, that went on for years until Kronos spotted him and pulled him into the fitness industry.

Patricia always stressed herself to the bone, even after he began to earn well, made friends, she worried, because he never got distracted, never allowed himself to open up to a girl his age, he always said that love and marriage wasn't meant for him, she didn't blame him, he grew up around a man who couldn't keep any of the promises he had made. Eric always feared someday he'd turn into his father, that there was a part of him that would trap some poor girl into a loveless marriage and then he'd lose control like his father did. He never wanted that so he stayed away, never looked at a girl long enough to actually feel something for her.

So imagine her delight when at the ripe age of Thirty Eric came home one night, placed his head down on her lap and told her all about the girl he had been seeing in the library lately.

Eric was always into books, getting lost in a fictional world was his thing ever since he was a kid, it drowned out the noises and the screams that was a norm in the house of Marshalls.

Patricia couldn't believe her ears at first but then he kept talking, kept saying how sweet she was to everyone, how beautiful her eyes were, how she remembered his name everytime he approached her desk.

So she did what any mother in her place would have done, she encouraged him to go ask this sweet woman out on a date. But Eric being Eric, her sweet boy that has never felt this way before, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

And then he told her --

“She's a good girl mama, deserves a good man..not someone like me, not someone who has been to prison, someone who is capable of murder”

Broke her heart completely, she cried herself to sleep that night, couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that her kind, sweet, boy thought the worst of himself when he was the best one she had ever known in her life. She told him to take a chance, follow his heart for once and see where it would take him. So he did. He wrote his feelings down because the words just didn't come out whenever y/n looked at him.

The next day he came home and cried in her lap, she asked what it was but he never said anything, just told her that she had found someone she deserved, a doctor, a brilliant surgeon who'd suit her better. Then he never spoke of this y/n, never mentioned her again, this girl who made him smile when nobody was looking, he pretended as if she didn't exist, began dating that attention seeker that Patricia absolutely abhorred, he never mentioned her, not until a few months ago when he found her at the doorstep of the gym.

The knock on the door snapped Patricia out of the whirlwind of thoughts-

“Can I come in?” You asked politely so she gave you a warm smile.

“Oh honey I'm so sorry i worried all of you like this” you walked into the room and sat on the other side of her bed, you looked at Eric, you could tell he had cried. Or at least shed a few tears.

“I'm just glad you're okay..how are you feeling now?” You asked her so she smiled again.

“I'm perfectly fine, I was just telling him that he didn't even have to bring me here at all-”

Eric sighed as she said that

“I'll go fill up the prescription and then I'm calling a cab” he said as he looked at her and then you before he got up and stepped out of the room.

“Next time you invite me a little early. I'm not as good of a cook as you but I'll help and we can do the dinner early so you won't have to skip your medicine” you said softly, hoping you didn't sound out of line.

“It is lovely of you to stay” she said as she placed her hand on your head.

“He'd have done the same for me”

“Can't argue with that at all”

“Ms Draven -”

“Call me Patricia dear, Ms. Draven makes me sound so old and I'm barely in my 50s”

You chuckled as she said that

“Fair point. Patricia, i just wanted to thank you for inviting me today, i…it just ..it felt really nice to be there with all of you and just– just thank you really” your eyes moistened, you couldn't really put your thoughts into words because they overwhelmed you, in a good way though.

“No..no need to thank me, and from now on you don't need my permission to come see me, just do it whenever you need a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on..we will have a girls night. Me, you, Shelly and Stella” your eyes teared up as she said that.

“I'd love a girls night”

“Oh and it's Eric's birthday next week. He doesn't really like going out and celebrating so we will just have dinner at home”

“Sounds perfect”

******

Later that night as you reached Patricia’s apartment Eric put her in bed, she was sleepy again so he tucked her under the covers, kissed her forehead, placed the call button right next to the bed if she needed Stella in the middle of the night and then turned off the light.

As he came out he approached you,

“Come I'll drop you home” you nodded as he said that.

He grabbed the car keys and then you both took the elevator to the basement.

“You'll stay here tonight ?” You asked as the door opened to the basement.

“Yeah..I am a bit worried about her, I'll go back to my place tomorrow”

You nodded as he said that.

“Jesus it's 2 am..you must have work tomorrow..I'm so sorry” Eric mumbled so you placed your hand on his shoulder, the touch immediately sent a shiver down your spine so you pulled it away.

“Stop worrying about that, I have pulled an all nighter before and still made it to work” you said to him so he smiled. “Besides it's you who has to open the gym at 6 and then be on your feet all day long..all I do is sit in front of a desk, arrange some books in between and log the borrows and returns” you said, there was a hint of playfulness in your tone but also deprecation and he didn't like that at all.

“You say that as if it's not a task in itself. No job is easy, you're still giving hours of your day and you do it all with a smile”

God.

For a moment you found yourself speechless. Why was he like this?

You took a deep breath as you looked out the window, watching the cars pass by you. You didn't understand what was happening to you, his words had always affected you, they motivated you, made you feel good about yourself and you had been used to touching him or rather having him touching you, he often helped with your form, spotted you, grabbed you all over when he had to make you stretch but ever since that hug that night something has ticked inside you.

You didn't want to admit how much you had enjoyed holding his hand at the hospital, comforting him like that, being there for him for once.

As he pulled up outside your building, you grabbed your purse, your fingers clutched around the handle.

“See you tomorrow?” You said to him so he nodded. “Goodnight Eric..go home safely”

As you stepped out he tilted his head to look at you.

“Goodnight” he gave you a small smile, you waved at him, but he just sat there, not driving away.

“Something wrong?” You asked so he rolled down the window.

“Get inside and text me when you're in your apartment”

He said to you, making you gulp. It was late at night but you had noticed how he always waited for you to get into the building even on your walk home from the gym.

Jake often dropped you off and sped right away, time didn't matter, you weren't comparing but these little things were starting to change the way you saw Jake.

“Okay -” you mumbled as you turned around and got into your building. The moment you were in the apartment, you looked down from the bedroom window and texted him.

That's when he drove away. After showering and changing into a comfortable set you got into the bed and texted him to ask if he had reached.

You : Did you reach?

After a minute he responded-

Eric : Yeah. Not sleepy?

You stared at his message for a second, the soft glow of your phone screen the only light in the dark room. Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard.

You: Not really. Too much on my mind.

You sent quickly.

Eric : Want to talk about it? I'm not sleepy either.

You chewed your bottom lip, hesitating again. Jake never wanted to know stuff like that, you weren't used to someone actually taking interest in what you had going on in your head. But Eric… he always asked like he actually wanted to know it.

You : Just…thinking about everything.. About tonight.

Eric: What's bothering you?

You : Not bothering me at all. Trust me. But ..Being with you guys.. each one of you. It felt like… I don’t know. I never had that before. Even when things got tense for a moment, there was no chaos, no screaming, just- everyone got together and ..I'm sorry I'm being such an emotional pants.

You hesitated but eventually sent the message. He was your friend now, you could talk to him like this if you wanted to.

Eric : Never apologise for that. You have it now. And you can come here anytime, she really likes you and Shelly. She doesn't invite people in her home like this

You stared at the message, reading every word slowly as if you couldn't believe it.

You : That means the world. Really. Thank you 🤗

You sent before you typed another message..

You: Please get some sleep

Eric : You do too. Goodnight Emotional Pants.

********

Rest of the days of the week went by fast, everytime you were at the gym, you couldn't stop staring at him. All of a sudden you had been noticing things about him that you never did before, like how sharp his nose was, and how every time he was stressed he would bite on his lower lip and suck in his teeth, how his legs just kept going in those shorts he would wear at times, how his t-shirt clung to the dip of his back.

How flushed you felt everytime he hovered over you when he had your legs pressed over your chest. His woody perfume filling your senses, driving you deeper in the haze.

Sometimes he’d say things—nothing flirty, never inappropriate, but even his random praises made your heart race

“You’re getting so strong y/n” he said once, after spotting you during a deadlift. His voice low, rough like gravel. “See you couldn’t do that last week.. Could you? Be proud of yourself”

You would nod, but your heart was already sprinting ahead of you. You didn’t miss the way his eyes held yours a second too long. Or maybe that was your imagination.

One night you were doing bodyweight hip thrusts, already feeling awkward enough, but then he crouched over you, his legs on either side of yours, his long fingers curling around the side of your waist as he fixed your form...

“That’s it..now pause at the last rep” he murmured “Hold it there”

You froze. Not from discomfort though. You could smell his cologne and when his fingers brushed your lower back, a spark shot up your spine

“Y/n breathe…you're doing great..twenty more seconds..keep it up yeah?”

You knew you'd collapse if he'd hit you with a good girl out of nowhere. Luckily for you, he didn't.

“There you go.. well-done..you did so good y/n..so good”

Those gym sessions with him had always been a form of self inflicting, fruit bearing, pleasurable torture, but the meaning of the torture was starting to change.

The night before his birthday, around 11:45 Chance and Shelly came to pick you up from your apartment, there was dinner and a celebration at Patricia's tomorrow but all of you wanted to give him a little surprise tonight. Chance told you how last year Regina had ruined his birthday by throwing him a party where she had invited all of her influencer friends, most he didn't know or had ever met before. He had asked her to keep it lowkey, told her that he wanted to spend the day with just her, his friends and his family but she didn't listen. Ofcourse she didn't.

You didn't forget to grab the extra special thing you had gotten made for Eric. He seemed like a man who appreciated simple things in life so that's what you did.

“If I fall down and die or worse the gift gets ruined ..I'll haunt you both forever” you spoke even though you couldn't hear your own voice amidst the blasting wind as Chance's bike sped towards Eric's house. Shelly heard you though and let out a giggle, she was half your size so she squeezed herself perfectly between you and Chance. You were grateful Eric’s apartment was just a few blocks away.

The moment the clock hit 11:59 Chance began to ring his doorbell incessantly. You had never been here before and the thought made you nervous, you felt shy and bashful, a few months ago you probably wouldn't have thought twice about it.

Eric was just Eric before, your personal trainer, the hot guy who dated Regina Blanc, the broody guy from the neighborhood, the quiet guy you used to see in the library.

But now he was Eric..he was your friend, he was the guy who showed up for you when you didn't even ask, silently, the one who uplifted you at every opportunity offered, the more you learned about him the more you found yourself entranced by him. Eric wasn't just Eric anymore.

As he opened the door, he was shirtless, of course he was, as if he knew you had been thinking about his abs last night, wondering how it would feel to touch those sharp lines.

“Happy birthday to you..happy birthday to you..happy birthday Dear Eric, Happy birthday to youuuu” Chance and Shelly began to sing harmoniously, a party popper was blasted somewhere, you just stared at him until he finally looked at you and then you mouthed a silent Happy Birthday.

The moment Chance and Shelly got inside the apartment, you passed him the gift bag.

“What is it?” He asked, his voice groggy from sleep, half a smile on his face.

“It's a low carb, high protein, no added sugar birthday Cake” he almost gasped as he pulled the box out of the paper bag and then opened it.

“Come here” his free arm, the one not holding the cake suddenly wrapped around your waist, you almost let out a moan as you found yourself suddenly squished against his shirtless body..the heat radiating from him felt like a furnace, scent of his skin immediately infiltrated your senses.

As you noticed Chance and Shelly smirking you pulled away from him.

“You made this?” Eric asked as he flicked the icing off the cake and licked his finger clean.

Oh god.

“No of course not ..I got it made from the local bakery”

“Good. Don't think I'd have survived your baking -” you gasped ashe teased you.

“Hey I can bake alright-”

You sassed at him as you entered the apartment.

“Come onnnn put a shirt on..we need to celebrate”

Shelly said to him so he nodded before he went to his room, the apartment was a small one bhk, same as yours.

As he returned Chance popped off the champagne, Eric didn't drink but he wasn't one of those people who judged others for having fun, unlike his father who was addicted to the vice.

He offered you a glass so you took it.

“I don't want to consume extra calories”

“Hey..it's okay.. have fun alright? You're allowed to have fun once in a while” he said to you softly so you took the glass from him “I'll help you burn it tomorrow”

Your face flushed as he said that.

You can help me burn it tonight, you thought. Preferably in bed.

Oh god what was happening to you. You weren't supposed to think of him like that.

As the night unfolded, the four of you fell into an easy rhythm, music playing low from Eric's stereo. Shelly attempted to teach Chance a dance routine she had seen on DWTS, she nearly knocked over a lamp, laughter echoed through the apartment like it belonged there. Eric mostly watched, amused, occasionally chiming in with his dry humor that always caught you off guard and made you laugh harder than expected.

While Shelly was singing you felt the first sharp pang of pressure in your bladder, a not so subtle reminder that champagne always came with consequences.

You slipped away from the couch, tiptoeing toward the bathroom off the living room, only to find the door locked and Chance’s voice singing the same song, very loud, very off key..

You turned to head back but bumped right into Eric.

“Sorry..bladder emergency. But Chance is giving a solo concert in there.”

Eric chuckled as you said that. “Come on” he said, tilting his head toward the hallway “You can use the one in my room.”

You hesitated. His room. Because that's what you needed, an image of his bed in your head, the place where he slept, probably naked or at least half naked. The place where he probably jerked -

“I promise it’s not haunted. Just… maybe a little cluttered.” he said as you were still standing outside the living room bathroom.

“As long as there's no poop in the toilet I'm okay” his brow raised as you said that before he smirked in amusement.

Your eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment. Great. Toilet humor. If you had said something like that in front of Jake he'd have avoided you like a plague for the rest of the night.

You then followed him, pulse unsteady as he opened his bedroom door and stepped aside to let you pass. His room was plain and simple but it smelled like him. You tried not to look at the unmade bed. Tried not to imagine yourself in it.

“This way” he said quietly, opening another door, his private bathroom . “I’ll be out there.” he said so you nodded, he turned to step out of his room but the paused at the door “No poop I promise”

You nodded, trying to stifle the smile threatening to creep on your features before stepping into the bathroom.

When you came out you could hear the sounds of their laughter echoing in the living room.

You stood there for a moment, alone in the low light of his room, heart hammering harder than it had any right to. The space was tidy enough, minimalist furniture, there was a bookcase in the corner, and a pair of dumbbells tucked under the small table. Your eyes were drawn to the bed. The covers were rumpled, like he'd been sleeping in these sheets before you guys arrived…you knew if you pressed your face into that pillow, you’d smell his cologne.

God, get it together.

You were about to step out when your eyes darted towards the nightstand on the right side of his bed. A picture of Patricia, neatly tucked in a beautiful frame, but that was given, what made your heart stop for a moment was the Eric bobblehead placed next to the frame. The one you had given to him

Your gift in his personal space when the only other thing he had on the nightstand was the picture of the woman he loved the most in this world.

What did it mean? What did you mean to him? You were about to turn around and step out of his room before he would start to think you were stealing shit or something but then your eyes darted towards the bookcase, there were several books stacked on the small rack, mostly fictional but a particular one caught your eye. The Catcher in the Rye.

“Hey..all done with your bladder emergency?” He asked you so you smiled and stepped towards the bookcase and pulled out the book before flipping the first page.

“Property of Westwood Library..you were supposed to return it-” you paused as you looked at the due slip “almost three years ago”

Eric gulped as you carelessly flipped through the pages of the book, in a few seconds he had closed the distance between you both.

“Y/n give it back” he suddenly sounded so serious, your eyes narrowed as he reached for it so you placed your arms behind your back like a child. “Give it back -”

His voice dropped lower, huskier “Y/n,” he warned, stepping even closer, his chest nearly brushing yours now “Give it back..i'm not playing.”

You tilted your chin up at him, clutching the book tightly behind your back.

“What’s in here that you’re so desperate to hide? Do you have a secret identity or something?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile.

“Just give it.”

“I don’t think I will.” You took a step back, only for your back to hit the shelf. He stepped forward in response. Your breath caught in your chest, you blamed the champagne for feeling extra bold with him. His hands braced on the shelf beside your hip, caging you in between his arms. The book was still behind your back, your grip on it tightening.

You couldn’t look away. His hand came around slowly, fingers grazed the hem of the book but you moved and they caressed against your hip instead, making you gulp in response. He stared down at your lips before he looked you in the eye again

“Hey” he murmured, closer now, voice almost a whisper in your ear. “Seriously. Give it.”

You clutched the book tighter behind your back, heartbeat pulsing everywhere at once. “You’re acting like you have your deepest, darkest secret hidden in there”

“Kind of”

Your brows raised in curiosity, For a second, neither of you said anything. The book was still in your hands, his arm wrapped around your body. You could feel the rise and fall of his body with each breath, the tension humming in his muscles.

“What’s in this book, Eric?”

“You want to know? Do you really want to know?” He asked as he stepped even closer, your breasts were pressed against his rock hard muscles now. Before you could even respond he had snatched the book from between your hands.

“Not fair Eric..not fair, but since it's your birthday I'll let you win” you said to him as you crossed your arms, faking an offence. He couldn't help but smile as he placed the book in his closet before he grabbed your arm and took you to the living room..

“It's nothing..not a big deal, i swear”

His answer didn't satisfy you though, you didn't want to get ahead of yourself and believe a man like him was even remotely interested in you that way but the bobblehead on the nightstand and now the book, the book that he had taken from the library where you worked. Something about it left you pondering.

What if the thing he was hiding had something to do with you?

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Taglist @loushaw131460 @wiseyouthinfluencer @purplerainx1 @bloodykisserr @muchwita @mariaenchanted @a-differentbrandof-beans @kikibit @venuslayla23-blog @somedayimagines @sn0wybowie-blog

[sarahisslytherin]

rose garden filled with thorns

peeta mellark x reader

summary: peeta and katniss are just playing their parts, aren't they? sometimes you're not so sure.

contains: angst, jealousy.

a/n: ngl i'm proud of this one. shoutout to @oweninadaydream for being my cheerleader for this fic. gif by @bookcentral.

word count: 840

Just this morning you had woken up in Peeta’s arms; now you watch him glide across the dance floor with Katniss in your place. The Capitol party is in full swing now, pastry-shaped bursts of color flashing past you and music blaring. Snow’s garden is overflowing with people, yet you find yourself with no one to turn to. It seems you’re left with nothing else to do other than seethe in the distance as you sip on what feels like your hundredth drink and your eyes follow the capitol’s “star-crossed lovers”.

You had always been fond of Peeta. You would go as far as to say you might had been harboring a bit of a crush on him all these years. You wished you could’ve told him what to expect at his own games before he was reaped, but you had never found the right moment. There was never a right time to tell him of the horrors he would witness, and learn to live with if he somehow managed to survive. You were thankful for his love for Katniss back then, it is what saved them in the end. But now, after that romance had fizzled out upon their return to District 12, and yours had only begun, you feel the pang of jealousy reverberate in your stomach like the fire of a cannon. 

You can only watch for so long before you feel the need to run off, to escape the scene one way or another. The more you look at them, the more they seem to belong together. Did you really think you would be able to get in the way of their famous love? Peeta swears it’s all an act, that they’re only indulging the public to keep Snow content and the dangers at bay. Part of you wants to believe him, but with the way his hand rests on Katniss’ waist as they dance, the way he seems to gravitate towards her no matter where she is tells you otherwise.

You wander the grounds, your heels sinking into the grass-covered soil with every step. The music from the party fades out the farther away you get, relief washing over you as you realize it. You take refuge in an isolated greenhouse which you find to be brimming with Snow’s signature ivory roses. You try not to pay them mind, beautiful as they may be, because you know just thinking about the man who put you all in this game will make you sick.

Your head is spinning from the heat of the night, from the tight confines of your capitol-friendly attire. You’re in such a daze, you almost don’t notice Peeta’s voice echoing your name until his face is mere inches from yours.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” he scolds you, as if he has any right to. “How could you just run off like that?”

“I’m surprised you even noticed.” you retort, your words slurring a bit. Peeta’s brows knitted as if wanting further explanation. “What with all your attention on your darling fiancé.”

"You can't be serious." he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know it's not like that."

"How do you think it makes me feel, Peeta? Watching you with her. ever since your games it's been painfully obvious. You loved her then and you love her now."

"Y/n." you hear him groan, but you ramble on.

"I don't know why I lie to myself. I tell myself you moved on, that you love me now. It was stupid. I don't hold a candle to 'the girl on fire'." You barely even notice the tear that dribbles down your cheek until Peeta’s thumb swipes it away. When your gaze meets his it’s like being in the eye of the hurricane, in your own personal haven. 

“It’s all for show, baby. You gotta believe me, it’s all for the Capitol.” he pleads with you, crouching down to meet your eyeline. “Whatever feelings I had for Katniss are gone, I swear.”

You sniffle, helping Peeta to dry your tears. “How can you be so sure?”

“How can I be sure?” he repeats, laughing incredulously. “Because every moment I’m with her I spend wishing I was with you.” His hands come up to cradle your face, delicate in his grasp. You know your feelings of inadequacy won’t disappear with a few pretty words, but for now it is enough. Your breathing has steadied, your tears have dried. This isn’t just anyone, it’s Peeta; and he’s your Peeta now.

“C’mon.” he smirks in that way that looks like he's got everything under control. He stands, offering his hand for you to take, and you do. You pull him in by his suit and plant a passionate kiss on his lips. “Let’s get back to the party. You still owe me a dance.” 

You giggle at that, hand in hand as you leave the solitude of the greenhouse. “Alright, Mellark. As long as you don’t step on my toes.” He snickers. “I won’t make any promises.”

[trevengersprincess]

ℱ𝓇ℯ𝓈𝒽 𝒪𝓊𝓉

tw: f!reader, 12 year timeskip!Kazutora, creampie, piv, unprotected, pet names: (baby, kitten), established relationship with reader, breeding kink (let me know if i missed anything)

a/n: kazu is touch starved from being locked up for so long 😩 been on the kazutora train right now and i blame my friend.

wc: ~1.2K

Ten years. Ten years since you’ve seen the love of your life, Kazutora Hanemiya. But even in those twelve years, you never left his side, went to every approved visitation, picked up every phone call, wrote back to every letter he sent, everything. Kazutora is your ride or die and nothing would ever change that. When the day came for his release, you were nervous. Sure, you’ve seen him and knew of his changes like his voice and slight appearance. But nonetheless, you were nervous of seeing him.

Arriving to pick him up, you stood outside your car, nervously picking at your fingernails. The sounds of the gates opening caused you to jump and look up to see him. It was him. Nothing to block you two, nothing to be afraid to say worried a guard might hear, nothing. When he saw you, he felt his world stop for a moment. For an odd reason, he thought you wouldn’t be the one to pick him up. His hair had grown out long, just past his shoulders.

“Y/N…” Kazutora said softly, the name feeling so foreign yet so familiar. The tears in both your eyes filled before you ran over to him and practically jumped into his arms.

“Tora…” You whispered softly as you held him tightly. How you missed the feeling of holding Kazutora close to you. Tears fell down both your cheeks as you held each other close, thinking that if you let each other go, the other would disappear.

That was two years ago. He’s been out for two years and his hair has grown long, passing his shoulders. Keeping the majority of his natural hair color, he had the two front pieces dyed blonde. In those two years, you both focused on getting better for yourselves. You worked hard to get yourselves a nice place while he worked on bettering himself mentally and getting a stable job with his record. It wad hard work but you both made it. Finally earning enough to leave the apartment you lived in to a small home for the both of you. A home where new beginnings can start and Kazutora knew just how to break in your new home.

You both had just finished making the final touches in your home and sat on the bed, exhausted. Kazutora looked at you and smiled softly as he took in the surroundings.

“I can’t believe it actually happened. We really did get our dream home and even made it just how we pictured it. And it’s all thanks to you, kitten.” Kazutora said as he leaned over and kissed your cheeks. You giggled softly before he kissed your lips. He pulled you into his lap and you knew where this was going, not that you’d stop it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer, if it was even possible. He pulled away and kissed down your neck, nipping and sucking on your skin, leaving his marks. He wanted everyone to know you were his and his alone. Your whimpers filled the room and you tugged at his shirt, wanting it off of him. He pulled away and pulled his shirt off as you pulled your own off. He flipped you over, hovering over you before kissing down your body.

“Can't believe you are mine, all mine and no one else. You're so good to me kitten. I gotta put a ring on you now." Kazutora said as he pulls down your shorts and panties at the same time. He didn't give you a chance to speak before he dove into you like a starved man. Lapping at your juices, he moaned into your core. Your thighs squished his head, keeping him in place before you tried to loosen your grip. He growled into you and locked his arms around your thighs, keeping you in place and wanting nothing more than to keep your beautiful thighs around his head.

“K-Kazutora!" You moaned as your hands ran through his hair and making a makeshift ponytail for him. He pulled away, taking a deep breath before spitting onto your cunt and pushing his fingers inside you, curling them just to hit that sweet spot of yours.

"What is it baby? Too much for you? Can't handle me and it's only just my fingers and tongue?” Kazutora cooed at you as his fingers moved faster inside you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He moved back in between your legs and his tongue teased your sensitive huddle of nerves. You gasped as your hand in his hair only making him take your clit into his mouth and sucking hard. That’s all it took before you were creaming on his digits. Your hips bucking against his hand and mouth as he dragged out your high, making it much more pleasurable.

“That’s it kitten. Such a good kitten for me. Look at the pretty mess you made.” Kazutora says as he pulls away and you twitch slightly from the shocks going through your body. He strips himself completely of his clothes and hovers over you, throwing your legs over his shoulders.

“Wait! Daddy I just- nghhh~!” You pleaded but your pleas fell deaf to his ears. He pushed his shaft inside you, moaning loudly at the feeling of your warm walls. He allowed you some time to adjust to his length, after all, he isn’t that much of a monster to you. After a few minutes, he was thrusting into you like a mad man.

“F-Fuck baby…You feel better than I imagined…” He groans as he slowly started to lose himself. Even for how dominant he can get, he always gets so lost on the feeling of your tight cunny. He always gets so pussy whipped for you.

“D-Daddy please!” You moaned as he hammered into you. His hands found their way to the back of your thighs, pushing them up to your chest. You knew what this meant and you didn’t mind. He had lost complete control and was pounding into you like a rabbit in heat. His mind was foggy and the only thoughts he had were of you.

“Kitten I can’t hold back…Gotta make you complete mine…” Kazutora whined as he had tears filling his eyes from the pleasure. He came so quickly but that didn’t stop him. He kept pushing himself, wanting nothing more than to fill you to the brim. You needed to have his children.

“Wait Tora! N-Not in-”

“Shut up and take it like a good girl!” Kazutora snarled as he angled his hips to hit the sweet spot inside you. You gasped and became puddy in his hands. Before you knew it, you creamed on his cock, a white ring at the base of it. The sound of slick filling the room as you both went for hours and hours until Kazutora finally came to his senses. Both of you were breathing heavily as he stayed flush against you, cockwarming him nicely. He pulled you into his chest, pulling the blanket over your naked bodies as you feel asleep on top of him. Kazutora kissed the top of your head and smiled softly.

“Goodnight kitten. I love you, more than anything. Just wait till you wake up~”

soooo how’d i do…? please be honest everyone 😅

taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies

[missbellie]

heyy i was wondering if you Could do Sae byeok x fem reader and reader is pregnant. Like Maybe headcanons on the things she would do While you are pregnant like making sure you ate Well (you two would go to her moms house a lot and her mom would say to you, to eat more While Sae byeok is just adoring you) makes sure that you are comfortable when cuddleing, never lets you lift a finger, is there when you are feeling really sick in the morning, tries the thing Where she is behind you and she gently lifts your tummy releaving All the pain in your back and tailbone. (She adores the way you dip your head back on her shoulder and close your eyes, humming How Good it feels as she lift your tummy) and more.

thank you and have a wonderful Day or Night.

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Two babies in one- Sae-Byeok

(headcanons in points + writing)

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The discovery:

Her jaw would drop in shock that the insemination actually worked

"BABY, WE'RE PREGNET!"

She would certainly cry with joy.

Headcanons:

With confusion on her face, she holds up the small, light wooden box, opening it slightly. You shift your position on the bed, sitting up better to see her reaction, with an anxious smile. And She gives you a suspicious look and opens the box. The box was lined with gray crepe paper, but she didn't pay any attention to it, seeing a gray baby bodysuit and the pregnancy test on top. "Baby...Is this...?" She asks, looking at you fearfully with a gleam of hope in her eyes. Your smile widened, and you placed your hand on your stomach, nodding. The girl opens her mouth in shock and puts the box aside, throwing herself on top of you on the bed, kissing you all over. "Baby, we're pregnant! Oh my god..." You let out a laugh, nodding and wrapping your arms around the girl's neck. Her expression suddenly changes, becoming worried. She rolls over, now lying next to you, and places her hand on your belly. "I can't crush the baby..." She murmurs, worried. You He let out a loud laugh and pushed her hand away. "The child is still a seed. There is nothing to crush here."

Telling the mother-in-law and Cheol:

Her mother was super happy, as it was her dream to be a grandmother.

Cheol smiled and said, "A new friend!"

Sae's mother gave you several tips on what to do, what not to do, what you can eat and what you can't eat, everything you needed to know, and Sae listened very carefully, taking mental notes.

Your mother-in-law was the most helpful person ever, often coming to your house to help with things while Sae worked, taking Cheol with her so he could distract you.

Her mother-in-law also makes a point of filling your plate with food, now with less fat and more nutrients, because "it's a mother and her baby who were eating"

First Trimester (Weeks 1-12):

Even though the girl (Sae) HATES reading, she bought pregnancy books to help her to better understand your mood changes or physical disposition.

She bought a new mattress just so you could sleep better, since, according to her, "the book said that in the first trimester of pregnancy, pregnant women could spend a lot of time sleeping."

She doesn't get irritated by your mood swings, just confused. But she takes a deep breath, nods her head and just goes with the flow, not wanting to disagree with you.

Headcanons:

You were exchanging kisses lying in bed, when suddenly, you get up and run to the bathroom. The girl quickly got up, sitting on the bed, seeing you going to the bathroom. As soon as she heard vomiting sounds, she quickly He got up and went to the bathroom, kneeling beside her and grabbing her hair, pulling it away from her face. "Oh baby..." she murmurs, mostly to herself, looking at you with concern. She didn't get up from the floor until you were completely okay. She helped you getting up and washing your face. She made you lie down while she went to get you food.

Second Trimester (Weeks 13-26)

She is SO happy to see your belly growing.

Believe me, she started to become a thousand times more affectionate. Kissing your belly, talking to the baby and helping you to sit.

She drools when she sees you in maternity dresses, or just in your underwear. She simply thinks you look magnificent with your huge belly.

She massages your feet every night, and this gave her the opportunity to buy several body creams thanks to your influence.

Headcanons:

You walked around the store, actually you walked and Sae carried the cart with the groceries, eventually asking you what else was on the list. She didn't really like the idea of you going out and making some kind of effort, but since she knew that it wasn't healthy to spend all your time sitting or lying down every day, she made an exception. Sae crouched down, looking at the section of shower creams and gels. "You like vanilla, don't you?" She asked, picking up a vanilla shower gel and looking at the label. The older woman gave you a quick glance, as you stood with your legs slightly apart, one hand on your back and the other on your belly, lightly patting your face as you looked at a moisturizing cream. "Mhm...Vanilla is perfect" You mumbled, picking up the moisturizer and opening it to smell it. Sae nodded and smiled, standing up and putting it in the cart, seeing the cream you had put on She raised an eyebrow and looked at you. "Me and the baby have to have our skin moisturized... And smelling good." You say, running your hand over your belly and smiling slightly. Sae shrugged, turning to walk again. “That makes sense.”

Third Trimester (Weeks 27-40):

She started to be more careful with you, as she knew that the birth was near.

She would always go with you to the bathroom and help you if you needed it.

At night she would NOT sleep until she was sure you were asleep, because she knew you were having trouble falling asleep.

Every time you woke up to go to the bathroom, she would sit on the bed, watching, and only go back to sleep if you were also asleep.

She started to prepare the delivery bag: With the baby's clothes, your clothes, some hygiene items, diapers for you and the baby, a blanket for you and another for the baby.

You also decorated the baby's room, but it was Sae who did everything, you just gave orders and opinions.

She always got scared when you had contractions.

Headcanons:

"But why paint the colors pink or blue? Use a light gray. When the child is born, the kid will decide. We don't even know if the child will like pink or blue!" You said, leaning against the doorframe, with Sae in the middle of the room, with her hands on her hips, looking at the walls. She nodded, and then looked at you "You're right, princess. Gray it will be!" She said, and smiled looking at you. "And put an armchair or small sofa on that wall, it will look nice. Now I'm going to the bathroom, I'm worried." You said and turned around, walking quickly with difficulty,with her legs spread and her hands behind her back. Sae held back her laughter and followed you to the bathroom.

Labor & Delivery:

Headcanons:

As usual, at 9:30 pm you were already asleep - or trying to -. It was then that one night in January, at 11:00 pm, some strong contractions woke you up. You woke up, moaning in pain.It stopped for a few seconds, but not even a minute later the contractions started again, moving up your back and into your belly too. Sae woke up to the groaning, and immediately said, "You wet the bed..." She mumbled, sitting up in bed, but when she saw that it was too much to be pee, all her senses awakened. "Oh, fuck!" She stood up and walked over to your side of the bed, helping you up. "Shower... Let me take a shower..." You moaned, leaning against her. "No fucking way, honey! You're going straight from the car to the hospital!" Luckily, the delivery bag was already in the car. She reached into her bag, put your cell phones in there, and grabbed the car keys. "Can you walk?" You looked at her, leaning on the bedroom vanity, with your hand on your belly and shook your head. She nodded and walked over to you, picking you up. "I'm training for the future," she jokes, leaving the room, making you laugh in the midst of so much pain. You chose to have a natural birth, aware of the pain, but wanting to feel it. The birth, besides being painful, was at the same time wonderful, because as soon as your little figure arrived in your arms, you immediately stopped crying, you felt as if you were falling in love again, cause you really were. You looked at the face of that tiny being, seeing your features in it. How did such a thing come out of you? Was that cutie less than 50cm tall that would one day come out of your wings? Tears rolled down your face, Sae's hand brushed away the hair stuck to your forehead and smiled. "Hold on, you're the mother too." You said, lightly lifting the baby in your arms. Sae shook her head and smiled. "Let the doctors take the baby and take care of him/her. I have to take care of another baby." You smiled, and the doctor came closer, wanting to take the baby. With a little pity you handed the child into the doctor's arms, and watched him leave. You turned your head to Sae and smiled. "It's so tiny..." The girl let out a laugh and pulled the chair behind her to sit closer to you. She sighed, sitting down and took your hand, stroking it, while the other stroked your forehead. "It's true, princess... It's very tiny..."

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taglist: @vigilxntesht @wtvlmaosstuff

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MAN THIS IS SOSOSOSOSO CUTE

I love you anon for this idea 🙌🏽

Hope you liked it babies!

Xoxo!

[moonlitstoriess]

Across the Universe-ch.12 (Fenrys x Reader)

Summary: Y/n has everything she needs in life. A family, friends, a safe place she calls home and most importantly a male whom she loves. What happens when it all changes when Y/n finds out about the betrayal of her lover and her so called family? Well, ending up in Terrasen and in queen Aelin's court was not what she expected but what she will need to start her new journey full of surprises.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+, Minors dni, mentions of trauma, SA, mentions of violence.

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Y/n's heart raced as she watched Lucien standing before her, clutching the Book of Breathings like a lifeline. His presence felt surreal, almost like a figment of her imagination materializing in the midst of a crowded room. She could hardly believe her eyes; Lucien, battered and weary, was standing in front of her.

Lysandra closed the door behind them, sealing off the sounds of the ball and leaving the room in a hushed anticipation, y/n's focus remaining fixed on Lucien.

"Lucien," she murmured, her voice a mix of disbelief and concern. "How did you manage to come here? And what happened to you?"

Lucien's gaze flickered around the room once more before settling on Y/n's face, his expression haunted yet determined. "It's a long story," he began, his voice tinged with weariness. "But I had to find you. The Book led me here."

"The Book led you?" Y/n repeated, her mind racing with questions. 

Aedion wordlessly tapped Lucien on the shoulder, making the redhead turn around to see him pointing at a chair to sit while Elide filled a cup with water from the table.

After he sat down and drank the water, they gave him a moment to gather his thoughts. After a minute, Lucien sighed and began speaking, "I came to Velaris for a monthly visit,"

"The one where you visit for a week and we cause every kind of chaos?"

Lucien smiled slightly at his long-time friend as he said, "Yes, imagine the shock on my face when I found out you were gone, completely disappeared thanks to this book. Everyone was going absolutely crazy. Rhys had ordered every priestess at the library to search for ways to bring you back, even contacted Thesan to order his librariens in Dawn to search for any kind of information,"

He took another sip of his water before continuing, "Az, I don't even know, y/n he- he was just....mad like he isn't in a right state of mind at all because of your disappearance-"

Y/n scoffed, "Yeah, right. Seems like I had to fucking go through worlds for him to feel anything for me-"

Lucien looked at her with a mixture of many different emotions, "Y/n, I don't know what happened between you two but Az has completely lost his mind. Anyways, that we can discuss later, the point is....when I went to Amren's house to see her progress with this book because I was obviously very concerned for you, she told me she can't seem to get past a spell on the book, its like this ancient thing isn't allowing her to break through it. So I sat by her side and decided to see what I can do to help but....."

"But...?" y/n urged, her eyes growing more curious and yet warm towards the male, her close friend, sitting in front of her.

Lucien looked down at his hands that were still clutching the book, "But, then Rhys called Amren to the house, saying Thesan sent an ancient text related to this but the language was too old for any of them to understand. She told me to stay here and guard the book, to not listen to its nonsense words and she will be back soon. Once she left, at first everything was fine but then.....then it just started speaking, hissing and whispering, calling me to it, urging me to open and flip its pages. I tried, I really tried to ignore it but.....I caved in and then when I was close enough and my fingers had opened the book, it was like.......like....."

"Like you were stuck in one place and couldn't move. Like your body had a mind of its own." Y/n finished his sentence for him, seemingly remembering her own experience with the book.

Lucien once again lifted his head, looking up at her, "Yes! Yes, exactly! And then the next thing I knew, everything around me was disappearing, the book as well and then it was just darkness before a voice whispered to me that 'you are home now, fire prince' and I woke up in a grassy hill, surrounded by...well, an expanse of greenery."

Before anyone could interfere with their questions, y/n held up her hand, eyes wide and calculating as realization slowly dawned upon her.

"I heard the same exact thing when I ended up here. The book also led me here in the same exact way."

Dorian was the one who seemingly caught up to her trail, adding "While everyone in your world is having troubles getting here, breaking through the books spells...."

Lysandra continued next, stepping forward to stand beside the king, eyes wide, "Y/n and you were sent here by the book itself. We found out later on that y/n was a witch and had a connection to the gates, her mother being the oldest and strongest witch to ever live, Elara."

A few gasps were heard around the room but the shifter just shook her head, "We can discuss that later, what I mean now is that we found out y/n had a purpose here and that's why the book sent her, that she somehow was needed to be here, in Erilea, in Terrasen. And now, you were sent here by the book and seemingly it came with you this time. What could your purpose be, prince?"

Lucien just furrowed his brows and shook his head while Yrene came forward, Chaol right beside her, one hand on his sword, as she gently kneeled beside the redhead and asked softly, "May I....may I have the book please?"

Lucien hesitated, looking towards y/n to see whether or not he should trust the woman. Once he saw her nod, he turned his head back at the healer and handed her the book with a small, unsure, smile.

Yrene smiled back at him before taking the book and getting up, "I have a theory that I need to test with this and the other book so I would like to excuse myself now, goodnight everyone."

It seems like Chaol would blindly follow his wife anywhere because as Yrene left the room, he trailed right behind her, going wherever she was going.

Aedion turned his head back at Lucien and drawled, "Soooo....what do we do now?"

Before anyone could reply, y/n stepped in front of the redhead prince, her gaze determined as she said, "Lucien isn't going to harm anyone so you do not have to be on alert around him. He will stay here as well, and will help us find a way to sort out this mess."

Lorcan just nodded his head, putting his arm around Elide as she said, "We trust you y/n, so we trust him as well."

"I can show him to his room!" Eva's voice filled the room as she raised her hand, an adorable smile covering her face.

She heard Lucien chuckle behind her as Lysandra said, "Me, y/n, Elide and you could show him. The witches could join if they want to."

Elide smiled, shaking her head, "I need to check on the boys, you three go."

Manon just raised an eyebrow while crossing her arms, "Isn't y/n a witch too?"

Oh that's right. She was a witch. And she started to actually like that name.

Y/n shrugged as she patted Lucien on his shoulder, signaling him to get up, "Well, this is MY friend from MY world. He needs to see a familiar face around, no?"

She glanced at the prince beside her, expecting to see him nodding but instead found him staring at....Petrah, who was right beside Manon, also staring at him.

Lysandra broke their haze as she just came to stand beside y/n, hooking arms with her, "Well then, Lulu, let's get you to your room, shall we? We will all make better introductions and explain everything in the morning."

Lucien's gaze drifted to the shifter, raising an eyebrow as they began exiting the room and walking towards the stairs, "Lulu?"

Y/n and Eva chuckled as Lysandra winked at him, "I just came up with the nickname, thought I could use it."

He just smiled slightly before shaking his head and looked back at y/n, her gaze still filled with concern as she gently asked, "Why are you in this condition? How did you get through the woods?"

The fox looked forward as he explained, "After I woke up in the middle of nowhere, I just went through the forest and clearly had an 'amazing' time for the past two day."

Y/n furrowed her brows, "Strange, when I woke up, the first thing I saw was Fenrys- another member of this court, standing right over my head. How come no one detected your presence?"

Lysandra also had a confused expression etched on her face, "Our wards are strong, at any sign of unusual interference, Rowan and Aelin would be informed, that's what happened when you landed here. But, I don't understand how we never felt Lucien's presence within these borders."

Eva stopped abruptly, turned to look at them all with wide eyes, "What if its because of the Valg? What if they have somehow managed to break through? If that's the case, imagine how many of them could have entered these lands...."

Both Lysandra and y/n looked at one another, eyebrows raised, eyes wide, the former said, "Yes, that's....that's actually a very good posibility."

Y/n slowly nodded, "We will have to speak to Rowan tomorrow-"

"What are you all talking about? What's a Valg?"

All three of them turned to look at Lucien who was just glancing between them, brows furrowed in confusion and arms crossed over his chest.

Y/n shook her head, closing her eyes, "Lu, you have a lot to catch up on. We will tell you everything tomorrow morning."

He was clearly confused and had like a million questions of his own but nodded his head in understanding as they continued on their way.

"Actually, I don't know anyone here except y/n dearest, so, could you tell me your names?"

Lysandra smirked at him, "Lysandra Ennar Ashryver, lady of Caraverre.....also a shifter."

Lucien's eyes widened in shock, "Shifter? Like, you can shift into anything?"

The green eyed woman laughed while nodding as y/n put a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Lysandra loves shifting. Just last time, I was almost about to step on her when she was a ladybug."

Lysandra winked at the winged female as Eva, smiled brightly before saying, "Evangeline, book and chaos lover."

Everyone laughed at that as they reached the room where Lucien will be staying in, "Well, Lulu, this room is yours for the keeping."

Lucien said his thanks before the shifter and Eva left, leaving y/n alone with him.

He looked at her with raised eyebrows, "A witch? Really?"

Y/n chuckled, shaking her head, "Believe me, I was just as surprised when I first found out."

He smiled widely now, his eyes shining with a mixture of relief and joy as he suddenly hugged her tightly, whispering, "Oh, y/n I am so glad you are well. I was so, so scared that none of us would ever see you again."

Her eyes closed, a smile overtaking her lips as well as she hugged him back, just as tightly "Lu, I am so glad you found me. So much is going on that I was beginning to think that I would never find a way to go back home. You being here is proof that there is a way."

They seperated but not before she felt him gently squeeze her uninjured shoulder, "Me too, y/n, me too."

She smiled at him one last time before turning to walk away, but not before saying, "They are not bad Lu, you don't need to doubt them. I started to get along with them, I am sure you will too."

Lucien looked to the wall beside her, seemingly lost in some memory as he gently smiled, "Yes, I think so too."

When morning came, she was once again making her way to the training grounds, preparing to fight some of the stress out.

Y/n was expecting to be alone, to have some peace and quiet in order to gather her thoughts and think over everything that happened in the past hours, with the breeze, birds and trees being her only companions right now.

What she was not expecting to see, was the very male who had her pressed against a wall last night, throwing punches at the air, looking as hot as ever. She would never admit it but, y/n was very glad to have this front row view at Fenrys' half naked, broad, large body, full of muscles and scars, glistening with sweat, his pants hanging loosely around his waist. The wound seemed to be almost healed as a singular bandage covered the side of his torso. His hair thrown in a messy man bun, his arms and biceps bulging as he dodged and punched and hit and moved.

She should be mad at him. He left last night after that amazing moment, leaving her frustrated both sexually and mentally. She must demand answers, why did he leave?

But looking at him now she just wanted to touch him, feel him. Why does her body react this way only and only to him? When she just sees only and only him-

Fenrys turned around, panting heavily as their eyes locked. Y/n felt all the air get knocked out of her the second those hot, frustrated, intense and dark eyes focused in on her. He took her in, starting from her eyes and slowly going down to her legs. She should turn around and leave, run away just like he did but all she could do was stand there and soak in the way his eyes roamed all over her, giving y/n the chance to also take him all in.

Then, as if nothing just happened, he turned back around and went towards the table holding a pitcher full of water.

Oh, no. He did not just ignore her. He had a lot to answer for and y/n would make sure she got them out of him right here, right now. Taking slow steps towards the other side of the ring that held weapons, y/n gave her best indifferent expression and willed her body to calm down as she kept her voice steady, her eyes trained on the array of bow and arrows, "So, you will just ignore me, Fen?"

No reply, nothing.

Very well. Her hands took a bow and began inspecting it, "Did you not like it? Personally, I loved it, Fenrys-"

"Stop lying."

Y/n picked a stack of arrows together with the bow and turned back around. He was leaning against the table, still breathing heavily as his head tilted back and he stared at the sky. Displaying that delicious throat that was so tempting, y/n just wanted to bite and kiss it nonstop.

But, her mind was somewhere else now, pondering over his words.

"What? I am not."

He just closed his eyes but said nothing.

Y/n slowly moved closer to him. "Fenrys-"

"Stop- stop it y/n, alright? What we did last night was wrong. A temptation into which we both fell, but it won't happen again."

Now, she was pissed. He was so cryptic, so hard to read. Who does he think he is? Making decisions on her behalf?

Y/n turned her back to him, finding a circular target. The bullseye, a small red circle at the center, seemed to beckon to her, challenging her to hit it dead center. Taking a deep breath, she raised the bow, feeling the tension in the bowstring as she nocked an arrow and drew it back. Her movements were smooth and practiced, the muscles in her back and shoulders tensing with controlled strength. She closed one eye, aligning the arrowhead with the bullseye. With a final exhale, she released the arrow.

The arrow struck the target with a satisfying thud, embedding itself just outside the bullseye in the second outer ring. A rush of adrenaline and frustration surged through her as she took another arrow, scoffed at not hitting the center and spoke, still not looking back at him, "You think you know it all don't you? Think you know what's best for me? Well then, you are no different than any of the males I had in my life."

And suddenly, he was right behind her, his naked chest slightly grazing her back as he gently but firmly held her arms and moved them just an inch, changing the angle as he held her other hand under his, helping her keep the arrow stable, his breath hit her ear as he whispered, "I know your friend is here. That only proves my point how sooner or later, you will go back because your life is there, not here."

And with that, he let go of her suddenly, making her release the arrow. With a satisfying thud, the arrow struck true. It buried itself deeply into the bullseye, dead center. Her eyes widened as y/n turned around to look at Fenrys but he was gone, completely disappeared and she was left all alone in the middle of the training ring.

Fenrys was feeling a mixture of emotions. Anger, frustration, confusion, and hunger. Hunger for her. Hunger because last night left him hungry for more. Fenrys thought that it was just a silly little temptation, that he just had to kiss her in order to get her out of his system, that he would be satisfied and move on once he had a taste of her.

Oh, how wrong he was. The second his lips were on hers, his hands touching her plush body, bringing her closer, Fenrys realized that she would be his doom, his undoing. She was absolutely intoxicating and he couldn't stop, didn't want to stop. Now that he had a small taste of her, all he wanted to do was to keep tasting more.

But then Lysandras knock brought him back to reality as realization dawned upon him. She would be gone, she wasn't from this place, she had a real home, people concerned for her, y/n had a life.

She had a life and he would never be a part of it. She would go back to Prythian and move on, fogetting him. But he wouldn't forget her, no. How can he when she was the only being ever in existence to cause him to feel a bunch of emotions? How can he when she was the only one to ever cause him to react so much?

The appearance of that Lucien was just proof that whatever this was could not go on. Lorcan and Dorian told him about all that happened last night and Fenrys couldn't understand why his heart physically hurt at even the thought of her going back. They didn't deserve her. None of them, and especially not Azriel. Oh, how Fenrys wished to see that male atleast once so he could teach him a nice little lesson.

Well, his mood definetly did not improve when he entered the dining room to see that redhead sitting with his family, talking and laughing. He just went to his chair as Aelin kept talking, ".....I can't believe you have fire powers as well! Mine are no longer that strong but I still got a spark atleast!"

Lucien smiled as he took a bite of his meal, "Yeah well, I was born into a house full of fire magic. All my brothers have this power too. Autumn court is known for this fire."

The queen smiled even more brightly, "I want to visit that place now."

Lucien just chuckled while shaking his head slowly, "I don't think you would like it as long as my monster of a father is its high lord."

"Believe me, we have met our own fair share of monsters." Dorian said, his eyes looking at everyone in the room knowingly.

"Oh, Beron is a self-centered viper. Lu, when will Eris finally take over?"

That voice. That melodic, hypnotizing voice. He saw from his peripheral view how y/n entered the room and completely went past the empty seat next to him, choosing to sit right fucking beside Lucien.

Don't react. This is what you wanted right? The further she is from you, the better.

Lucien's eyes widened slightly as he chuckled, "You like Eris? I thought everyone from Rhysands circle hated him"

Y/n shrugged while cutting up her meal, "Yeah well, I don't. Why should I?"

Lucien smiled softly now, "Me neither."

Rowan raised an eyebrow, "Something we should know? Is Eris also going to make a surprise appearance?"

Lucien shook his head slightly, "No, my brother has bigger things to deal with right now."

"Bigger than the valg?" that question came from Lorcan as he just stared at the prince, his gaze indifferent.

"Well, as I said earlier, our world never had such things as Valg-"

"They explained you everything?" y/n's voice made Fenrys clench his fork as he just kept looking at Lucien and not the female right beside him.

He noddded his head, "Yes, they told me everything and now I know why the book is so important."

Y/n was about to say something when a roar interrupted her. Petrah quickly got up from her seat, "Seems like Luna isn't tired after our morning ride. I will go check on her."

"What is that?" Lucien's question made Manon chuckle and Petrah raise an eyebrow as the former replied, "A wyvern. Ever seen one?"

Lucien's brows furrowed even further, "No, what-"

Another rumble. Petrah just smirked at him as she said while walking towards the door, "Come along, prince, I'll show you."

Fenrys caught how Lucien's gaze seemed to change the second he looked at the witch. How his pupils slightly dilated and his eyes just took her in. He knows how it feels because he experiences the same thing whenever he looks at y/n.

Lucien was clearly in another world as he just stared at the witch because the second y/n gently nudged him, he shook his head slightly, as if coming back to reality, and got up to follow Petrah.

Well, seems like someone has got a crush. Wait. Does that mean Fenrys also has a crush? No. Impossible. He just kept on eating his food as his family continued their conversation. Throughout the whole meal, he tried his hardest not to glance at her, not even once.

He didn't look at her. Not even once. Usually, y/n would feel whenever his eyes were on her, watching her. But this morning, he didn't even glance at her. This wasn't her plan. When y/n entered the room, she purposefully avoided his gaze and sitting next to him, instead choosing to sit beside Lucien.

"And yet, he didn't even react. Honestly, I don't understand him, what do you think I should do?"

Abraxos just let out a low, sleepy rumble from his place on the flower field.

Y/n just laughed, tilting her body back until she was sitting against the beasts large body.

"Thanks for the advice, friend."

Abraxos lifted his wing and gently draped it over her, causing y/n to smile while caressing it.

"I see you two seem to be enjoying your time."

Rowan's voice caught her attention as y/n lifted her head up to look at the silver haired prince coming her way.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise. Don't you have princely duties to do?"

He chuckled as he sat down on a small boulder across from her.

"I went out into the border earlier in the morning, and guess what? Eva's assumption was true, the wards around this place are ten times weaker than before. They have definetly been broken through."

Y/n sighed, "And what do we do now?"

The male just shrugged and looked down at his hands that were on his knees, "We wait. Yrene is hard at work on something that she won't tell anyone, not even Chaol, so it seems like whatever she is doing, is big."

She nodded her head, wordlessly and thought that he would leave after that but instead, Rowan said, "I heard you, you know."

"Don't tell me you heard everything..."

Rowan chuckled "Well, maybe not everything but enough to know that something is happening between you and Fenrys."

Y/n scoffed, "Nothing is happening between us. Atleast not anymore."

Rowan smiled slightly before turning his head to his left, looking at the fields beyond.

"You know, Aelin and I despised each other at first."

Y/n's eyes widened, "What?! impossible! you two seem so in love now."

"Now, yes. Before? Oh before all I wanted was to slit her throat. I actually punched her when we first met."

She couldn't hide the disbelieving laugh that left her throat, "W-what?!"

He turned his head back to her and laughed as well, "Yes! I thought that she was a spoiled, self-centered brat. That she had no idea about the reality of the world and wasn't ready to be queen."

He sighed and looked at the wyvern, a sad smile on his face, "We fought a lot at first, I insulted her and she insulted me back, she was fire in every sense of the word and I used to be afraid of getting burned by it, I was avoiding it. But then, after seeing her scars, both visible and invisible, I started to sympathise with her and eventually, I let myself get enveloped by her fire."

Before y/n could say anything he got up and went to caress Abraxos, his voice a quiet melody now, "I thought I had a mate, her name was Lyria and I had met her in a market. She was very beautiful, and I remember feeling this tug towards her from that very first day. Long story short, we mated and she got pregnant. But, while I was away, she and our unborn child were both murdered. I came home to find her mutilated body lying in her own cold blood. I had this tattoo done in order to carry the shame of not being able to protect my mate for eternity. It details our story, from the time I saw her to the day I came to find her dead, cold body on the floor."

She gasped, her hand coming to cover her mouth, "Rowan, I- I don't even know what to say. I am so sorry, and not to be rude but.....isn't- I thought Aelin was your mate."

He just kept on caressing the wyvern, not looking at her, "Turns out, Maeve led me to believe that Lyria was my mate and then, had her killed. Aelin was my true mate, and Maeve knew it, she just had this twisted, forged plan to use me for her advantage. To also break Aelin."

Y/n whispered, her eyes on the flowers, "And did she...break?"

Rowan looked at her, a small smile overtaking his face, "You will have to ask that from her."

And with that, he turned his back towards her, and started walking back to the palace. She called after him, "Why did you tell me all this?"

He didn't turn back. Rowan just kept walking but she heard him say, "So that you can make sense of your own destiny, of where your purpose lies."

Before she could question him, she saw Luna land on the ground and Petrah come down from her back, followed by Lucien and....and a struggling man that was tied up in ropes.

Y/n jumped to her feet, running towards them as Lucien came forward with the prisoner tightly held in his grip, Petrah right behind him.

"What is going on?!"

Petrah and Lucien moved past her quickly, the former saying over her shoulder, "He is a valg! Luna scented him walking right through the busy markets. Where is Aelin?!"

Y/n took large strides to catch up to them, speaking as they quickly walked towards the palace, "I don't know! Lets take him to the torture room. They have one here, right?!"

Petrah firmly nodded her head as they both followed Lucien. Once inside the halls, they found Rowan, who was making his way up the stairs, and took the captive towards the chambers below.

Fifteen minutes later, Lorcan, Manon and Fenrys joined them as they all watched the valg infested person struggle and scream against his chains, both visible and invisible, thanks to Rowan's powers.

Petrah was the first one to speak, her eyes assesing the captive before them, "He won't break unless we make him. The witch back in our kingdom hasn't broken yet either, despite all the torture we have put her through."

Manon interfered, "That is a willing ally to them, this person has been infested by one of them against his will."

Petrah nodded her head at her queen, "Exactly, so it will be easier to get him to talk."

Fenrys shook his head, his arms crossed, "We have to get Yrene."

Rowan looked at his friend, "And drain her even more? She is already using too much of her powers, Chaol is in a wheelchair. Besides, once she gets the valg out of these people, they seem to forget everything. We need him just like this to get him to talk."

"I won't talk! I won't talk! I won't-"

"Oh, you will, and you will tell us every single little thing, you little demon." Rowan's voice was unrecognizable as he stood right in front of the man and looked down at him.

The poor man was laughing like a maniac now, he laughed and laughed until his eyes landed on her and he stopped. He stared and stared before his mouth tilted downwards and his light brown eyes somehow became black. Now, he was shouting at her, "You whore! We are coming for you! We are coming for you and we will end you just like we ended your mudslug of a father!"

Y/n's anger began rising, causing her to clench her fists in order to stop her iron claws from appearing. She took slow steps towards the man, recognizing that it was the valg inside him talking this way and not him.

"Listen to me and listen well, you parasite. I know what you did to my father and mother, what you did to my family. Do not think for one minute that I will forget it. No, I will find you all and once I do, none of you will be able to escape me. I will spend the rest of my immortal years going from world to world in order to completely cut your roots if I need to. You have said it yourself, I am the chosen one, the one who carries my mother's gifts inside me. So it's time I use these gifts and destroy you once and for all."

There was complete silence in the room, all eyes on her as the man shouted back, "You won't find us! We are hidden well!"

Well, it's time to use some psychological mind tricks then.

Y/n smirked as she leaned down, coming face to face with him, "Oh, I know where you are. In fact, I have completely sketched out a map of your whole location, both inside and outside."

The man's eyes widened, "No.....no the prince....he survived! It was him!"

Time to lead him on to get answers without making it obvious.

"Yes, the prince who survived was spotted in the city. He thinks he has good cover but he is wrong, oh he is so wrong."

The valg seemed to believe her as he started saying, "He did it! He did it! Do not bring the healer!"

"What did he do?"

"After the war was over, he....he survived! he survived Erawan and found us, other survivors as well! He is gathering all of us now, we will attack once we are large enough in numbers!"

"How did he survive? Aren't you all connected to Erawan? And where are you all located in?" Lorcan's voice came from behind her.

The valg however, didn't seem to be listening to him, violently shaking his head, shouting, "He survived! He is coming! You will die!"

And before any of them could react, the man went limp. Y/n quickly checked his neck, hoping to feel a heartbeat but, nothing. He was dead.

Y/n sighed as Manon said, "Well, atleast now we know that not all the valgs died."

Fenrys was the first one to leave, turning abruptly and exiting without a word to anyone, and without looking at her.

Rowan turned towards the door, "I will need to inform Aelin about this, Lorcan, inform the others."

Lorcan nodded as he followed the prince while Manon patted y/n on the shoulder, whispering a 'good job' and quickly left the room with Petrah who turned just once to look over her shoulder not at y/n or the dead man in the center of the room, but at Lucien who was just staring at his lifeless body.

Once they were gone, y/n put her hand on his shoulder and turned him towards her, "Lu, are you well?"

He looked at her, his mechanical eye just as wide as his other eye. "Y/n, let's....let's leave."

She nodded, silently leading the way out of the room.

Once they were out in the hall, she tried to ease the tension by nudging him with her shoulder, her tone turning playful as y/n gave him a smirk "So, what was that about?"

Lucien's brows furrowed as he turned to look at her while they kept walking, "What's what about?"

"You riding a wyvern with Petrah."

Lucien chuckled, "It's nothing, I was shocked when I saw that thing and then Petrah asked me if I wanted to join her for a ride and I....I got curious, I mean, we will leave this place at some point and Prythian doesn't have such adorable beasts so when am I ever gonna ride something like that again?"

Right, they will leave at some point.

She gave him a small smile, "Yeah....how- how is everything between you and Elain?"

Lucien's eyes dimmed as his smile turned serious "Just like how it was before you left. She still hasn't accepted me."

"Are you serious?! It's already been what? three years? I mean, if she doesn't want to have a mate, if she wants to reject the bond, then she has to say so. But for her to just keep on ignoring you without any words is pissing me off. Once we get back, I will have a word with her before I leave-"

"Alright, alright stop there for a moment" Lucien held both of his hands up to her as they both halted.

"Two things. First, don't tell her anything because I have dealt with her. I rejected our bond, and guess what? I was expecting some kind of pain or I don't know...an uncomfortable feel in my chest because after all, it's a bond that's breaking but....nothing. I felt absolutely nothing for rejecting her."

Y/n's eyes widened, "So, do you think my theory is right? That The Cauldron made a mistake when it mated you to her? That it was a momentary slip up? That there was no bond to begin with?"

Lucien shrugged, "Maybe. I don't really care but I do feel much more freer than I did when I felt like I had to put effort into making her like me."

When y/n opened her mouth to speak, he held up a hand, silencing her, "Now, second thing. What in The Mother's name do you mean by saying 'before I leave'? What happened?"

Yn sighed and turned to walk, Lucien quickly catching up with her, "Lu, Azriel has a mate."

Lucien stopped again, his eyebrows hit his hairline, "What?! Excuse me?! Please tell me it's you."

Y/n chuckled but kept walking, "Do you remember Gwyn? Turns out they were together for the past two years and the worst part is that.....that everyone in the inner circle knew except for me. They knew, Lu! They all knew and none of them thought of telling me! Instead they preferred to watch me suffer!"

Lucien grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her to look at him, "Y/n, but....but you seemed so well whenever I would come? Like, like you would be so happy and cheerful and your outgoing self? I never....I never even noticed. Oh Cauldron boil me-"

Y/n gently placed her hand on his shoulder, "Lu, please don't blame yourself. You are the only one who ever saw me for me. You would only stay there for a week, sometimes even less and you would be so stressed with your whole thing with Elain and whatever new information you would bring about Koschei and whatever else so obviously I wouldn't show it to you. But they.....they were there all the time. Mor had walked hundreds of times on me having a panick attack and did nothing. So I obviously do not plan on staying there anymore."

Lucien closed his eyes as his head tilted downwards, "I am so sorry, y/n. Once we are back, you know you will always have a place with me, Jurian and Vassa. If you want."

Y/n gave him a small but genuine smile as they slowly resumed their walking, "I know, Lu. And I am beyond grateful."

It was starting again. His nightmares were on him again. They stopped for one night and one night only. The night where y/n slept with him, the night that she was in his arms.

But now, now they were back. His nightmares would usually differ, never repeating the same memory twice, but instead showing another trauma each night.

Tonight, it was one of his memories with Maeve. It was the night she raped him countless times before ordering him to sleep naked right outside her door. It was a punishment for disobeying her orders. Because he healed Connall when he got injured severely while getting beaten up by one of her obedient little followers. Because Connall had disobeyed her too and done something. Something he refused to tell Fenrys. She wanted him to bleed and be on the verge of death as punishment. But, how could Fenrys just sit by and watch his own brother wither away?

She raped him. She put her disgusting hands on him knowing how much he hated it and got her way with him. He hated himself after that. But, what's the point now? Connall is dead anyway. You failed him, Fenrys. You failed your own brother. You are nothing-

"Fen, are you well?"

Her angelic voice soothed his growing demons, calmed his growing nightmares.

Fenrys turned his head to see y/n standing right beside his sitting form, in front of the large window they have in the hall between their rooms. She was wearing silk pants and a long sleeve, loose shirt. Both in white. Her adorable face held a mixture of concern and curiosity as she looked down on him.

And that nickname she gave him. That fucking nickname that only she is allowed to call him. No one else.

He sighed and turned his head back towards the large window, looking at the moonless night in front of him, "No, y/n. I am not well."

He felt her sit beside him and turn her head to look at his side profile. Her soft, soothing voice reached his ears even better when she was this up and close to him, "Do you....do you want to talk about it?"

For some reason, he did. For some reason, his chest tightened and he felt this need to, for the first time, open up and talk about his own troubles to someone.

So, with a small nod, he began. He told her of his childhood with Connall, of how they never knew their parents, of how they always only ever had each other. He talked about his blood oath to Maeve, he told her just a few of the tortures she put him and his brother through. Just a few of the things she made him do to innocents. The guilt, the shame that was eating away at him. The war and what happened during it. Connall's death. And lastly, the fact that it has been three years and he still can't move on, can't forget.

Once he was done, he turned his face to look at her, seeing her eyes shining with unshed tears. "So, y/n. You now saw the real me. My ugly truth that I hide inside me. It's best if you just run away now."

She slowly shook her head and put a gentle palm against his cheek.

Then, she said the sentence that shook his world.

"Don't do that. I am not scared of any part of you, Fen. How can I when I am just as scarred as you are? How can I, when I know the pain of such things? You showed me a raw part of yours, and for that, I am so grateful. I will cherish it forever. I care for all of you, both your beautiful and not so beautiful parts."

Fenrys had never felt this vulnerable yet safe in his life. The truth in her words as she looked at him with nothing but pure care and sympathy made him feel not weak or pitied but....safe, understood. He wanted to ask her about her story but from the look in her eyes, she wouldn't tell. He knew she wouldn't. This was supposed to be about him.

That care increased his heart rate even further. Caused him to feel things he never did.

He may regret this tomorrow, may go back to blaming himself again, but, he couldn't care any less right now.

Slowly, just an inch, he leaned closer to her and whispered, "Ask me to kiss you again."

Her eyes widened slightly as her plush lips parted.

But she did. She whispered, "Kiss me, Fenrys."

And with that, he closed his eyes and kissed her. He smashed their lips together as her arms went to his hair, holding him close, as she leaned back on the ground, bringing him with her, placing him completely between her parted legs.

He kissed her with a mixture of emotions. He kissed her hard but also soft, gently but also firmly, quickly but also slowly, messily but also lovingly. She kissed him back with the same amount of ferocity.

Then, his kisses moved to her jaw and then her neck. He kissed her slowly over where her injury once was and then, as he looked back her, for permission to take off her shirt, she slowly shook her head, no.

It was complete and utter darkness here anyway. The stars barely illuminated anything. But, she still didn't want him to take off her shirt. He would respect that either way. He kissed her over her clothing as he moved down, over her stomach and stopped just above her pants, once again looking back at her.

She hesitated again. Closing her eyes and then opening them again to look towards the window. Then, as if she understood that he can't see her body properly, nodded at him slowly.

There was definetly something. Something she wasn't telling him. But, it's alright. He would ask her at some point and hope that she would share it with him.

Fenrys slowly took ahold of the top of her pants and pulled them down. He pulled them down and off completely, before lying on his stomach and gently touching her ankles, her legs and then, her thighs.

He felt a couple of bumps along her skin but assumed they were probably injuries she got during fights or during the war. After all, what kind of a warrior doesn't have scars or wounds?

Her skin was still so soft though. So soft and creamy, he just wanted to keep touching her. He brought his face closer to her inner thighs, kissing them gently as he heard her take in a sharp breath. Her arousal, her sweet and perfect arousal, was hitting his nose as he came closer towards her core. Only a thin piece of fabric was stopping him now.

Fenrys once again lifted his head towards her, so that she could see him in the dark looking at her, questioning her, making sure.

He saw her give a slight nod of her head and that was all that he needed.

Fenrys brought his face back to her core as his hunger for her began taking over. As his thirst for her began taking over. He gave her a nice, long and torturously slow lick over her panties, causing a melodic moan to escape her.

Gods, she was perfect. Fenrys felt his own cock throbbing in his loose pants, but that could wait.

She whispered, "Please...."

Without waiting any longer or making this torturous for either of them, Fenrys quickly ripped apart her panties, causing a gasp to come out of her and then.....dear Gods.......her perfect, dripping cunt was right in front of him. Her arousal fully hitting his nose, taking over all of his sense, leaving only one thing behind: Greed. Greed to devpur her whole and leave nothing for anyone else. Greed to mark her up completely.

With a growl, he lifted a finger and gently touched her, smearing her arousal all over her lips. Y/n lifted her hips involuntarily, another string of 'please' falling off her kissable lips.

Fenrys let out an involuntary moan, "You are so perfect, princess."

And that was it, that was all he said before diving in. That was all he said before he began feasting on her like a madman. He ate her out as if he was dying and she was his only cure, like she was the only meal left in this world and he was a starving male.

He ate her out like she was fucking made for him.

With each lick, with each bite, his hunger for her only grew stronger, insatiable. Her moans and gasps too, grew louder, so much so that he had to snake a hand up, past her breasts and her neck, to cover her mouth.

His own throbbing, hard cock was killing him too. So, while he was feasting on his beautiful witch, Fenrys started humping the ground, searching for some relief too. This caused him to moan right into her pussy, making her back stretch out even more, her hands coming to grab and mess up his hair as she bit his hand.

Fenrys added his fingers, stimulating her with both his tounge and fingers and as he felt her warm walls begin to clench uncontrollably around him, he knew she was close. He was getting close too and that was a shock to him. Fenrys had never been on the verge of cumming this quick before. No one had ever made him this pent up and feral that he reached his edge this quick.

She was the first. His annoying, ferocious, angry little witchling was the first to ever make him cum this fast.

And all it took were a few more licks, bites, thrusts and she was gone. Y/n moaned deep and hard as she came all over his tounge and lower face. And he licked it all up. Fenrys drank every single drop of her sweet nectar, savouring its addicting taste. And as if on cue, he himself came inside his pants while he was still licking her up.

And through it all, his eyes never left hers. Even if it was dark, even if they couldn't clearly see one another, Fenrys kept his eyes on her face, knowing that she felt his eyes on her too.

Once he was finished, he sat up, gently putting her pants back on and pocketing her ripped underwear for....later.

He saw y/n's frame slowly sit up as well as he came closer to her, gently helping her up to her feet before asking, "I hope I didn't hurt you."

He felt her smile and cursed the darkness for keeping that beautiful view away from his eyes. She came closer and put her hands behind his neck, her breasts pressing to his naked chest, causing him to feel her nipples right against him. He barely held back a groan.

She got on her toes as Fenrys held her waist to keep her stable while she gently kissed him on the cheek and whispered, her voice hoarse and so damn sexy, "I had never cum so hard before, Fen. It was amazing. Thank you."

Fuck. He was absolutely doomed.

When she tried to move away, his arms closed completely around her, pressing her to him as his one arm lifted, his hand going to hold her behind her neck as he smashed their lips together once more.

He let her taste herself on his tounge as he kissed her with so much pent up lust and hunger, for her. Only and only for her.

Once he pulled back, he felt her heavy breaths as she whispered "Fenrys-"

"With every breath I take, Y/n," he whispered fervently, his voice a steady promise that caused her body to tremble slightly, "I'll stand by your side, shielding your light from any darkness that dares to fucking approach. You will ignite the world, and I will ensure it never dims. I swear it."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

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@glaciuswduo

[purple-alien-ufo]

who am I? Ch.1

Pairing(s): existing Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal, future Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x reader.

Summary: your best friend is missing. Weird visions. Parents are lying to you. You have lost memories. What happens when two gorgeous witchy women come into your life and want to help you sort it out? Will you get the truth for once?

Warnings: grief!!, weed use, dark thoughts

Word count: 3.5k

A/n: first time posting on. I’m getting used to the formatting. So bear with me if it looks like shit ��

Enjoy ☺️💜

The air is crispy and cold as it fills the room from your open window. The chilly air enters your lungs. It's almost nostalgic. You feel your limbs are heavy, and your head is pounding. The cold is nice and soothing. You look at your alarm clock and it reads 12:12 pm. You try to hide under the blanket. The October autumn air is thick, and you just want to lay in bed all day. Forget all your troubles. But you can't, you annoyingly need money in order to survive.

You sit up and groan loudly, stretching your limbs, absolutely dreading the day ahead. You have to leave for your dead-end job as a barback at a gay bar in town in about an hour.

You had to move back in with your parents after losing your best friend who randomly went missing only last month—absolutely no trail. Every theory you had went cold. Your tracking skills are not that great. You are not very tech-savvy. You and Darcy were loners together. It seemed that you were the only person looking for her. Even the police were no help. They told you maybe you misremembered what day she was supposed to be home. You got home from work the night she went missing, your shared apartment to see everything was normal just for the fact your best friend, Darcy, didn't come home that night. She was supposed to come back from visiting her parents. You didn't ask where they lived nor have you been able to get in touch with anyone who knows any valuable information. No one knows where her parents lived. You only knew they lived far-ish away. And they had a rocky relationship, they had a problem with her being gay and all. This was the first time she went back home

You get up out of your bed, dragging yourself to stand upright. The rage of thinking about the situation is surfacing. Your skin feels hot to the touch. The grogginess is taking over as you take careful steps towards your dresser you grab out your black jeans and a random band t-shirt. Seems like you are going with Stevie Nicks. You feel like shit and think maybe a shower will fix it. You stop to look at yourself in the mirror. The lack of life in your face is abundantly clear, and so is the lack of sleep hanging under your eyes. Your broad frame is smaller than usual from the lack of eating. You were always muscular even from little to no activity.

Life has been unfolding terribly. Lack of desire, lost with zero direction, no motivation to finish your degree in history minoring in witch folklore which you were supposed to have already graduated from last year. Everything feels either too much or entirely a waste of time. Nothing is a big enough distraction either. You don't feel the flames of passion anymore. Merely out of reach of fulfillment. You have always felt out of place, never felt like you belonged even with your family.

Your parents are being weird as shit. Even worse than normal. They pushed you to go to college right after graduation, then since everything, they have been acting as if they don't want you back. You asked them what was happening, they would lie through their teeth saying nothing was going on. Everything they say persuades you into believing they are hiding something. The hesitation in their voice, the scrambling for words.

Lately, they seem to be avoiding you, they used to go on vacations when you have off time from school. They went as far as lying about a business trip when they just went to a town over. You only found out when you found a credit card bill. You don't even have enough energy to care to be real. They seem as if they are anxiously awaiting for you to do something. Your mother doesn't even make direct eye contact and your father tries to never be alone with you.

You realize there are holes in your memory. You can't remember part of your childhood, nothing from 5th to 6th grade, nor the winter of junior year. They are blank with no context. You have a feeling of longing missing something other than your memories. You haven't asked your parents because they will just lie to you.

You know that right now is a tough time. But it's not like you are going to do anything fucked up. You are about to turn 24 in a month, and sure this is not how you pictured your life but you’re not dangerous, right?—Why does your whole life feel like you've been left out living it? Like a side character labeled as a starting character in a movie.

Sighing you rub your face trying to wake up staring at the shower. You gingerly step in, As soon as the water hits you, your eyes close causing flashes of purple and green to flicker behind your eyelids, and your breathing picks up pace. You start to feel the sounds of the shower become muffled and your surroundings feel distant. There's a low humming in your ears.

You try breathing slowly trying to calm yourself down as you feel a panic attack coming along... You see a woman about 10 years older than you but she looks a lot like you but with scarlet hair, yours is brown from dyeing it, you hated the platinum blonde you were born with. You see flashes of her crying from various moments of just screaming and crying. Almost like clips in a movie. You feel her grief, her sadness, and the despair she holds as if it was yours. You feel the need to take it away. Every inch of your body feels like it was just covered in years of suffering and misery.

The Flashes of purple and green come back you now can see clearly. You are looking at the ground at first, hands gripping the dirt, but they are not your hands. Once you look up but you don't recognize where you are, you look around and see some red robot-looking human. You realize you have no control over your limbs whatsoever. Which means this isn't your body. You are just a viewer. Meant to observe what is unfolding in front of you right now. There to see. There too feel what she felt.

You look before you to see the robot kneeling in front of you. She is crying. Trying with all of her might to even stand right now. Maintaining her emotions as best she can.

“It's time,” he says

“No,” she says, trembling, the floodgate threatening to burst.

“It isn't fair that it's you but it is. You have the power to destroy the stone,” he says like he is stating a simple fact.

“It's okay my love you could never hurt me,”

Your hands rise trembling in front of you. Your hands blast red from your fingertips. Blasting right into his head. She feels like she is going to fall to her knees. But she needs to stay strong and do this for the greater good.

You can feel her feelings and hear her thoughts as if they are your own.

“It's okay,” he whispers sympathetically as the stone is breaking. She looks back at the people surrounding you, seeing them one by one get flung. She raises a second hand, blasting the stone.

He keeps repeating “It's okay” reassuring and comforting her that everything is okay, even though he knows he's going to die. He's worried about whoever's body you are in. He doesn't seem to be in pain. You look back and see the purple alien heading for you. Your arm shoots to hit him, splitting your power between the two.

A dark murky purple smoke circling your wrist and legs until it covers your body completely. You give into it as it grips you up in a warm embrace holding you, then your vision goes black, and you come to, blinking your eyes into focus. You are lying in a fetal position at the bottom of your shower. The once warm water is now ice cold. You spring out of the shower landing awkwardly on your hip. You hit the cold tile crawling back towards the door, ignoring the physical pain in your hip. You were scared about what just happened. Your chest hurts from breathing so hard. Your whole body trembles against the ice-cold tile as you stare blankly into space. The millions of thoughts rushing through your head begin to feel overwhelming. You feel like you are about to cry when... You smell a strong aroma of rain with the undertones of freshly chopped wood. It feels like the purple smoke from earlier, relief. It's almost like you are next to the source itself. A magnetic force, all while being comforted as if you are being held. Your breathing slows and you relax a bit but you remain still in the corner knees up to your chest. Your thoughts slowly fade almost completely.

You try to get yourself right. But it's not working sitting naked on this damn floor. You decide to just say fuck the shower get dressed and go to work.

If you sit here any longer you'll just end up sitting here spiraling. Trying to answer all the questions you don't even have yet. You would rather get paid for thinking than do it for free. For one what the fuck was that. And who was the robot she cared so deeply for? There was a deep, deep sense of agony, fear, and just- pain.

The purple smoke felt like home. Like it was going to take away all of your suffering. You couldn’t help but give in to it. You wanted to feel it again. The peace it gave you, felt like what a mother's hug is supposed to feel like. One that brings you false comfort, the world is a good place. Or cream you put on a burn. Gentle and Soothing.

You spring up off the bathroom floor throwing your clothes on your partially wet body. You feel like running away. You shake the thoughts out of your head. You gather your stuff for work. Grabbing your joint container.

═══*.·:·.★ ✦ ★･:･:*═══

Since you left early you have time to relax before your shift. You grab your joint container and light up one of the 4 joints you had. You don't smoke a lot just a couple of times a month. Or when things get to be too much. You recline your seat and turn on your music trying to center yourself. The only exception - Paramore starts to play. You feel the tears brim, your breath caught in your throat. You quickly change it. It is? Was? Darcy’s Favorite Song. She dedicated it to you when she told you she didn't hate you like she did everyone else. You have a strong feeling she isn't dead. You know she is in trouble but she can't be dead. You have to have hope. You skip it so ‘Where is my mind- pixies’ Starts to play and you feel your whole body relax. You lean your seat back, looking at the top ceiling of your car. The “visions” I guess you could call them? They keep replaying them in your head. Questions and thoughts flooding in, like.

What could they mean? Was it real? What is with the purple smoke and woody smell I can't get out of my head? Why can't I get the scarlet hair out of my head? Why am I itching to go to work? I hate my job. Today feels different. It feels as if something awaits me. Like my life is changing and I don't know it

═══*.·:·.★ ✦ ★･:･:*═══

Your day is achingly slow. You have cleaned everything that needs to be cleaned. You sit there and wish it would get busy. At least 5 tables or so. You just give up and sit down at a table pulling out your phone. You sit and scroll for a minute and people start flooding in. A ton of people out of nowhere just start coming in and being sat. You spring into action getting ice and clearing off tables. A small smile spreads across your face. Something to do something to keep your mind off of things.

All the tables start to order drinks and food. Giving you something to do finally. You get the feeling you're being watched as you are clearing this table off. You try to look without being noticeable. You see people eating and talking. Some tables are on their phones.

But there is one table that catches your attention, there sits two women, one has their back turned to you. a beautiful older woman. Brown wavy hair, fair skin that compliments the color, and pricing blue eyes staring right back into yours. She is smirking at you. Your breath catches. You feel nervous but drawn to her. You don't realize you froze under her gaze until you start moving towards her. Now standing in front of their table.

“Hey there cute thing, we would like the have a chat with you,”

“I am on the clock,” you say nervously feeling like a dear caught in headlights.

“When does your shift end?” the other mysterious woman to your left said leaning in closer. She is equally beautiful. Her skin is tan and her eyes are a rich chocolate brown. Her hair is dark brown loose wavy curls mid-length. You can smell her perfume wafting from her. Earthy and rich almost like you're standing in the middle of the forest on a rainy evening. It gives you a familiar feeling.

“Uh 8,” you hesitate. Under their gaze, you feel extremely warm but nervous.

“Would you be interested in going out with us tonight?” the one on your left says. Smirking. your ears start to ring. You think you miss hearing them but once you see women too your right lean in to see what you'd say. You rethink that. You have only just met them. Why do I feel scared to disappoint them? You feel the need for their approval.

“A little too forward?” the one on your right says. Her voice is smooth. Comforting “Don't worry, if you say no, you won't be letting us down. Or if you'd like you to. You can pick whatever we do, we just really need to talk to you ” Agatha says scooting towards you. They are sitting down on a high-top table. While she is sitting down she is taller, it makes me wonder if she is taller than you while she is standing too. Your knees feel weak.

You look at the one to your left.

“So what do you say, our little dove?” she says smiling

“I'd usually say no to strangers but tonight why not? Could we just go somewhere quiet?” you mentioned sheepishly, awkwardly standing there shifting on your feet. “You said you needed to talk right? Well, can I ask what it is about?” you say staring Agatha right in the eye. She seems hesitant, she glances at Rio, only for a moment her flirtatious expression faded.

“Great, well we don’t wanna get you fired. We’ll see you after your shift, you will get all the answers to your questions then,” the woman to your right said, winking at you and biting her lip. You nod, She avoids your question altogether. But how could you when Her piercing blue eyes are consuming you whole as she gives you one last good look over?

“I’m Rio by the way and that's Agatha,” the woman you now know as Rio said. Agatha’s eyes are dark and glossed over as she leans back looking you up and down still, now licking her lips.

“What's your name hon?” Agatha teasingly asked. Her voice sounds like honey. You feel the heat in your stomach churn.

“I- uhm y/n, y/n, O’Connor,” you stuttered like you were unsure of your name. You threw the towel you were holding over your shoulder, folding your hands in front of you. Shifting unsure why you feel so miniature under their gaze. Like you don't need the tough exterior. They seem to like you being unsure and awkward. They find it amusing.

“Hmm, y/n, that sounds beautiful,” Agatha said, smiling wickedly with a low chuckle. Your breath hitches and your movement stops. You start to blush at her praise. You hated your name, it didn't feel right.

“Honey behave, you are gonna scare the poor thing,” Rio said, slapping Agatha’s hand that was resting on the table, only for her to grin mischievously “Well we will see you in about an hour and 57 minutes,” Rio says, as she checks her watch. You smile and nod.

“Okay see you then,” you say smiling at them both. Agatha winks. Her arms folded in front of her, her one hand holding her chin up with her index finger with her nail poking into the skin, grinning, as she just watches you. Rio leans back in her chair as waves seductively waves each individual finger as you walk off. Your body is buzzing and feels warm. You don't even like eye contact let alone people looking at you. Why do you feel warm under their gaze? It makes you act unsure of yourself. You lack your usual I don't care attitude. You could have stood there for hours though talking to them.

You haven't dated since high school. You broke it off with the girl you last dated because you felt unenthused. As it drained you to have to pretend some you were not. You were expected to be normal to blend in. You couldn’t do it. To have always been told you were too much, or you are abnormal and deviant. Like you either couldn't fill their boxes or you over filled them. But it was especially at home with your parents because they made you feel it.

The only person who accepted you was Darcy. But she's gone. Or is she? It’s all too confusing. You have a significantly hard time admitting she is gone. Because it doesn't feel like it. You can still feel her if that makes any sense.

You have always known you were gay. It was obvious. But that wasn't what people were talking about when they said they didn't expect you. It's like they know something you don't. A secret about yourself is written across your body like a scarlet letter. But only they could see it. You sure get the humiliation from it though. You just want to know what it is so you can fix it. This is the closest you have felt to getting the truth. The subtle promise in their voices. Like they carry the elixir to your uncertainty. They barely said anything but it was all what they were not saying that led you to believe they knew something.

This day can't get any more stressful.

The rest of the time starts to drag. You’re excited for your shift to be over. What are they going to take you to do? Where are they from? Who are they? So many questions, and too much time in between getting answers. You feel panicked. Like you did earlier. Your breathing picks up. Your heart is pounding in your ears.

You get flashes of red in your vision. All of a sudden when you walk through the swinging door into the back of the house. You are transported into what seems to be a subdivision. You look around for anything to give away where you might be. No remnants of the bar in sight. Surrounded by houses and clean-cut lawns. Houses that look like they are straight out of a home good magazine You only see a woman with scarlet red hair–. This time she is on her knees, hands resting in her lap. Her eyes gazed far into space. She looks lost and defeated. You walk up and kneel to her level. Looking at her in the eyes. She looks past you for a couple more minutes. You were not expecting her to be able to see you but. Just closely observing her. She feels familiar like you know her not just because you look alike. You feel like this should be a reunion. But who is she? It's on the tip of your tongue. She has the same facial features as you, but older and more tired.

Then she blinks looking straight into your eyes. She looks at you horrified. Her bottom lip trembles. Rage spreads across her face. You stumble back, losing your footing.

“Who are you?” she says in a broken voice.

“I uh-, you can see me?” you said. Your hands start to shake in your lap

“Yes, now tell me where you came from, you shouldn't be here,” Her tone shifts. Her posture straightens. Her hand raises next to her. Her hand raises with a red ball of power in it.

“I’m uh-, I-I don't know how I got here. I swear.” said as you put your hands up defensively. Your heart is pounding in your ears. She is looking right at you with this angry but hurt stare so strong you swear you can feel it. “I’m not here to hurt you. I promise” You say gently. Sitting flat on the ground with your legs crossed

Who does she think she is?… I want her to leave. I can't deal with this right now.

You hear a distant voice say that sounds like her.

Is this really happening?

Let me know what you think. reblogs, likes, and comments are more than welcome. I don't mind constructive criticism either 😎

-Grey🩶

[panpanghost]

_"Happy birthday Wukong!" Macaque said smiling, waking his old buddy from his sleep.

_"Wha-" Wukong couldn't believe his eyes, how could he? He hasn't heard these words in decades. And that smell, oh that sweet gorgeous smell; the peach cake Macaque used to make him every year for his birthday. When was the last time he took a bite? He can't remember.

_"What? Did you think just because I lost my memory I'll forget your birthday?" Said Macaque jokingly.

Macaque can't remember anything that happened to him, the last thing he remembers is helping Wukong go to sleep after he came back from the celestial realm. He told Wukong red is his favorite color then Wukong started crying and he managed to get him to bed somehow... even that memory is a bit hazy.

But now, Macaque opened his eyes in a new bed with his body all sore and a blind eye. The weird black crown on his head was also stuck there, as if he doesn't have enough of things to worry about. But just because he's having a hard time doesn't mean he can't make new good times, like celebrating with Wukong.

_"How stupid of me to think that." Wukong answered with a smile trying to hold his tears back.

_"Are you ok?" Macaque asked softly with eyes filled with worry. He knows Wukong would jump at him and try to shove the entire cake in his mouth, but right now, Wukong is trying not to cry, that's nothing like him. Did something happen?

_"Of course I am! I'm better than ok! I'm great! Let's eat this baby already!"

_"Wukong." Macaque became serious, "Talk to me."

_"I-" Wukong took a second to look into Macaque's eyes. These beautiful eyes, the only ones that stare at him with so much love and adoration, he can feel them hugging him and sheltering him from the outside word.

He needed to talk but something in him was knitting his mouth shut every time he tried to speak. The same thing was begging him to lie and keep these wonderful feelings close.

_"It's ok," Macaque said and placed the cake on the counter then sat next to Wukong, "I'm right here." He held his hand and smiled, like he used to when Wukong would hurt himself and Macaque would stay by his side confronting him and tending to his wounds.

_"I-" Wukong needed to come up with a lie fast, what if he tells the truth and Macaque remembers everything, how would he look at him then? What if he disappears out of his life and never returns?

_"Yes?" Macaque asked,

_"There was a bad demon that hurt you last year, we weren't able to celebrate my birthday because you couldn't wake up. I'm sorry. I didn't want to bring it up."

_"It's alright." Macaque got closer and hugged Wukong, for some reason Wukong's hug was tighter than he remembers and it also lasted longer. Poor Wukong, he must've been really worried, Macaque will make it up to him this year. But... did Wukong just apologize? Also, was it the same demon that took his eye?

(I am bored, don't ask where this is going, idk either.)

edit: part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9 part 10 part 11 part 12 part 13 part 14 part 15 part 16 part 17 part 18 part 19 Part 20 (final)

edit 2: Here's some fluff bc I think you'll like it

edit 3: how I imagine Erlang in this story

[softloustat]

Louis de Pointe du Lac's best lines

I made a poll a while ago asking what your favorite LDPDL lines were and here are the results!

In 12th place, with 1.7%, is quite an iconic line...

in fact it is so iconic that Lestat couldn't let it go for over 100 years and referenced it in his first single!

11th place, with 2.1% of votes, goes to Sam Reid's favorite moment in season 2!

10th place, with 3.6%, goes to this beautiful moment between Louis and Claudia in 2x01.

That entire monologue was just something else. It gets more emotional with every time I rewatch it.

In 9th place, with 3.9%, we have the following line that really shouldn't be as funny as it is.

I'll believe Louis that he didn't eat the baby. But there are so many inconsistencies in this episode that it just makes me wonder...

Anyways, next up, in 8th place, we have a beautiful quote with 4.9% of votes!

Jacob's performance: insane, but that's a given. It's so heartbreaking that Claudia knew he didn't mean it but he was trying so hard to convince himself that he actually meant it because he wanted to mean it.

In 7th place, with 5.6%, is this line!

That little finger wag! Louis you sassy bitch!

6th place 8.5%:

The entire confession scene is so insane that it was almost impossible to pick only one line but this one really stood out to me because at its core, that's what's on Louis' mind at the time.

5th place with 9% of votes goes to a sillier quote!

4th place with 11% goes to a line that I though might win the poll haha

Can't believe I didn't catch it when I first watched it and couldn't stop laughing on my second rewatch when I got to that part.

And on to the top 3! In 3rd place, with 12%, we have...

My personal favorite. What can I say? It's the way it took him ages to process and his facial expression once he realizes what Armand said. Everything about this delivery is absolute perfection.

In 2nd place, with 17.8%, is another top tier line (they're all top tier who am I kidding?)

That's a new kind of white. French white? She had a point there, Louis.

And finally the 1st place, with 19.9% votes, goes to:

Once again, the entire Loumand argument is FILLED with insane lines! I only picked two for the poll but you could probably make an entire poll just with lines from the argument.

[makochi-furin]

Hii hii! I hope your doing okay today or tonight, I was wondering if you could write something for dazai (idm if it’s scenario, hc or mix of it and if you add another character you really want to write about).

The request basically is; a reader who finally told Dazai about their past abuser, how they got away with no consequences (who reader mentioned seeing sometimes in the city) and later said abuser goes to the agency on behalf their company to investigate missing items.

Stuff like this is really comforting for me so thank you if you do it :D I hope I put in enough detail for you to work with.

DAZAI AND CONSEQUENCES

A/N: baby, I’m so sorry, but this is long asf and I got a lil carried away💀 I’m also sorry it took a bit to get out. I work in a nursery, so I work 12 hours shifts, and this got to me slam in the middle of my first one (out of three in a row). If this isn’t what you wanted, you can send me in another ask :) But I hope you like it

WARNING(s): reader was in a physically abusive relationship in the past, mentions of PTSD, canon-typical violence, mentions of panic attacks, pissed off dazai, reader is a girl

—I'm gonna assume this is like a pt. 2 of this writing, but it can stand alone, too :)

—We all know Dazai is megamind over here. He sees EVERYTHING. Nothing goes unnoticed by him (which you probably find a little annoying, tbh, but oh, well). It's especially annoying when he knows things about you that you don't necessarily want him to know

—HOWEVER, if it's something that you physically and emotionally feel like you cannot talk about, like it brings you distress and discomfort, he's very unlikely to push you about it. Let's be honest, this man's probably never even told you the name of his parents. You don't even know if Dazai Osamu IS his real name, so he knows he hasn't got room to talk

—I feel like if Dazai noticed something about your mannerisms, or the way you act that very obviously speaks to past trauma, he'd ask you about it, like in my previous writing. If you're unable or unwilling to talk about it, he drops it. He SO desperately wants to know, but he cares for you too much to put you in any sort of emotional distress by pushing it

—When you do decide to open up to him, he's all ears. He knows how hard it is to speak about the shadows of your past, and he honestly is just so flattered that you trust him (he can't believe it, lmao. Like, three people in his life truly trust him) enough to tell him about it

—You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub in Osamu's apartment, absently watching him comb through his wet hair. The two of you had showered together, and you couldn't help but notice over the months of your relationship how much he had changed.

Osamu was flighty at first, and very distrustful. He wasn't a fan of placing himself in vulnerable positions. Not just to you, but to anyone. Yet, when you'd gently brought up his lack of self care, and how it made you sad to see the person you loved think so little of themselves, a change happened.

You helped, of course. At first, you reminded him to brush his teeth when he forgot, and then you began combing his hair. You'd point out when it was time to change his bandages, and call him to bed at an acceptable time because you knew he'd just stay up until the early hours of the morning (if he slept at all). Together, you two had even begun cooking meals, and he'd started to fill out a little bit.

Now, he made sure to do all of those things, even if you didn't remind him/cook with him, because he felt better, yes, but also because he could see how happy it made you.

He was still suffering from chronic depression, of course. You knew you couldn't fix that, and were thinking about gently bringing up a therapist to him, but he had gotten so much better. Even his coworkers noticed it.

Osamu dragged a comb through his brown waves, eyes narrowed as he focused intently on it. It meant so much to you. How could he not focus on it?

You knew it, too. He would've never made these changes for himself, but he had begun to trust that you had his best interest at heart. A few weeks ago, he'd even opened up about some of his own traumas surrounding Mori and the Port Mafia, about his best friend, Oda Sakunosuke.

Osamu trusted you.

That was why it felt so wrong to keep your own past from him, because he was finally starting to open up. You feared if you didn't return the favor, he'd wilt again. More so, you'd recently been catching yourself let parts of the story slip. Subconsciously, you wanted so badly to tell him.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" He asked lightly, brown eyes sparkling with so much affection that it had your breath catching. Osamu was watching you from the mirror.

You blinked, realizing you'd been out of it for a moment, lost in thought. In your lap, you fiddled with your fingers. Part of you wanted to shut down as your heart plummeted at the thought of reliving the worst of it...

But the way he looked at you, like you hung the sun and the stars, like he felt such fondness for you that 'I love you' simply didn't cut it...

It was time to tell him.

"Can... Can we talk?" you asked, surprised by the softness of your voice. It was almost ashamed, but you knew you shouldn't feel shame for what had happened to you.

Only, you were so scared he'd feel ashamed of you.

Osamu was a great aim, and he was smart as a whip, and he was oddly strong for his thin figure. He'd never let himself stay in the sort of situation you did. He'd fight back.

You felt so small.

He turned to look at you, leaning back on the bathroom counter. His eyes were gentle and knowing, and you couldn't tell if you were upset that he already knew what this was about, or relieved. "Of course," he said with a little smile, squatting down in front of you and taking your hands in his. "What about?"

You gulped, knowing there was no turning back now. If you told him this, you'd be trusting him with probably the worst part of your life. Even imagining it, the past with him, made you sick to your stomach.

You knew you'd backtrack if you didn't just rip it off like a bandaid.

"I overreact to things sometimes," you whispered, and he squeezed your hands. "I'm sure you've noticed it."

"I wouldn't use the word 'overreact.'"

You chewed on your lips nervously, staring into his eyes. Thankfully, all you saw there was understanding, but it was still so hard. "My ex beat me. For years... Anytime I did... anything, pretty much. It was bad." Your voice cracked as you continued, tears welling in your eyes. "I couldn't see my family... I ended up in the ER a few times. He broke me, Osamu. He had me convinced I'd never trust another man."

You waited with baited breath for his reaction, trying to hold in the tears. Your eyes stung and your breathing was speeding up into gasps, because you hadn't even told your family or closest friends the full extent of it.

Osamu looked oddly calm, but at the sight of your fallen tears, he got up to sit beside you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he pulled you in close, flush against him, and kissed your temple. "Breathe, baby. It's all right now," he whispered, squeezing you close.

You couldn't stop it now, though. What had been building up since you left your ex was being released right here, right now. There was no turning back. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks and clouded your eyesight. Subconsciously, you grabbed his shirt in a tight grip and squeezed until your hand ached.

"He beat the shit out of me, and nothing ever happened," you continued, the anguish in your voice now laced by anger. "He broke my collarbone... my jaw—my ribs and my wrist. He made me feel like an ant, like I was so small, and I still feel that way now, and even after I left him... I'm still suffering, but he gets to go about his life like it was nothing. I couldn't even go to the police—he said he'd kill me," you got out through gasps, squeezing your eyes closed as your vision had started to darken at the edges, anyways.

Osamu's eyes flashed with something you didn't recognize, but all he knew to do was pull you in tighter. He placed a hand on your head and pulled you into his chest, and you certainly weren't trying to resist.

"It's not fair," you added, knowing how childish you sounded. Nothing was ever fair. Here you were, saying all this to a man who had probably done much worse than just break people's bones, complaining about fairness.

You weren't a child. You knew life wasn't fair, but that didn't mean it didn't fucking suck that it wasn't.

"Sometimes, I still see him, you know... In town, I—" You had to stop, otherwise you'd make it worse for yourself.

He held you close, rubbing your back and gently scratching your scalp as he whispered for you to breathe. Osamu knew you were about to land neck deep into a panic attack.

Eventually, he did get you calmed down. He got you to bed, made you a mug of hot chocolate, and read to you for about thirty minutes before you were able to catch your breath, his smooth voice calming you better than any benzo could.

In the end, you two lied down together, your back pressed to his front. The bandaged arm that was wrapped around your waist felt like a safety blanket. You were sure you'd be embarrassed about your outburst tomorrow, but for right now, you simply soaked up the feeling of him wrapped around you so snugly.

"You're not small," he whispered to you, and that was the last thing you remembered before passing out.

—Dazai doesn't seem different to you afterwards, in that he doesn't act differently towards you. You were worried at first that he'd see you differently, that he'd see you as being as weak as you saw yourself, but it was the furthest thing from. He respects the hell out of people who can go through such terrible things, and yet come out so kind, so good

—While he doesn't seem different, inwardly you can bet he's raging. Dazai is PISSED OFF, more than he's been in years. He's made great progress, but let's not forget that Dazai can be a cruel mf. He's got a darkness in him that he doesn't want you to see, but it is definitely there

—He doesn't press you for anymore details, but he can't help himself. He digs. He uses his brilliance to find out who the guy is, who his name is, and any time he feels even a slight bit of guilt at digging into your past life without your knowledge, he reminds himself of the injuries you listed.

—You thought he'd forget the things you admitted during your confession? PLEASE. He needs to know everything about this fucking piece of work. If he has a photo, he might even text it to Chuuya, along with a message "wanted alive," and you best bet Chuuya takes it seriously (even if he hates Dazai, lmao) because just by LOOKING at the photo of this guy, everyone can tell he's an asshole. And you still see this mf sometimes? Man is RAGING

—Dazai stands on business, because seeing you so torn up about it physically hurts him. It makes his heart ache every time he remembers you in that state. He can't fucking stand it, and he has to do something about it

—Your words about it being unfair haunt him in his nightmares. You're right to a degree: the world isn't fair. However, Dazai knows that if it takes him a million years, he's gonna make this shit fair

—Then, what do you know, one day he's at the office and Atsushi comes strolling in with a Manila folder and the piece of shit, himself. There he is, practically served to Dazai on a silver platter

—"This is Tanaka Jiro," Atsushi chirped, missing the way Dazai's eyes widened when he saw the new client. "He's here on behalf of the engineering company that got broken into last night."

Dazai sat up in his chair, staring right at the man who had the gall to make you feel small and weak. His eyes darkened, and then he slowly smiled. It wasn't happy or gentle, or even playful and teasing.

He smiled like Mori smiled.

In that moment, if his coat was black instead of tan, he'd look the picture of his younger, crueler self. He supposed that part of him never went away, always there just at the edge of his subconscious.

He promised Odasaku that he'd push it away, that he'd do good. However, he felt that even Odasaku, his kind friend, would understand the necessity of it now.

Immediately, he jumped out of his chair and made his way over. His hand landed on Atsushi's hair, giving it a playful ruffle. As he looked at him, his eyes softened. "Maa, Atsushi-kun. You work too hard, you know. I'll take this case for you."

Atsushi stared at him with obvious shock, eyes wide and jaw on the floor, because Dazai never, ever volunteered to work. If anything, he complained about it like a child.

"D-Dazai-san?" he breathed, in disbelief. It looked like he thought someone had killed the real Dazai, and was now acting in his place.

"Ah, ah," Dazai chirped, shoving Atsushi away. "Go do normal teenager things. Flirt, make friends," his voice trailed off as his gaze slid to Tanaka, your ex, and the smirk lifted his lips once more, eyes flashing dangerously, "all of that."

"O-Okay," Atsushi mumbled, still in shock. He recovered quickly, smiling brightly at Tanaka. "Dazai-san is a very good detective, Tanaka-san. You're in good hands!" he promised.

Tanaka smiled back, and seeing the bastard have the audacity to smile had Dazai seething internally.

Maybe, he'd take all his teeth, so that he could never smile again.

"Thank you for your help, Nakajima-kun," Tanaka said, nodding.

As Atsushi walked off, Dazai tilted his head to the side, his plan already formed. "Follow me to answer some questions, and then I'll begin investigating right away."

—For Dazai's plan to pay off, he needs to figure out who broke into the company. It wasn't a planned event, and he quickly figured out the guy who did it probably had no connection to the company (probably just a low down thief looking for some quick cash), which made it more difficult. It was the sort of not-really-a-big-deal crime that the agency would usually put on the back burner (the only reason it even came to them was because the thief was figured to be gifted), but Dazai worked tirelessly at it

—He interviewed people, looked over documents from dusk to dawn, and just generally put in a hell of a lot more effort for this than he usually would for some petty theft

—You probably even notice how hard he's working. There are bags under his eyes and he's back to not taking very good care of himself, but when you ask about it (obviously worried), he just smiles gently, kisses you, and assures you that he'll have this case figured out in no time. He doesn't want you anywhere near this

—When he does find the criminal, their interaction goes something like this:

"I know you did it. Give me the shit you stole, and I'll let you off."

"Bet."

—He has this part meticulously planned out. While your ex is in work one day, Dazai plants the stolen items in his car, and then calls the company security

—He watches with glee as he's dragged from the building, kicking and screaming like an enraged toddler, and fired on the spot. Your ex's livelihood? Gone. Phase one? Completed

—Dazai sat at his desk with a satisfied smile, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he counted down in his head. Everyone else is entrenched in their own workloads, barely even noticing the malicious sparkle in Dazai's eyes.

Soon enough, the door bursted open, and your ex came running in. His eyes were rimmed red, like he'd been crying, and he was flushed all over from rage. "What the fuck did you do?!" he demanded, pointing at Dazai.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently, standing and walking over with the same smile.

Everyone else stopped what they were doing, watching the scene with widened, or curious eyes. This sort of thing didn't happen much at the ADA.

"You know what the fuck I mean, you piece of shit!" Tanaka screamed in his face, and it only made Dazai's smile widen. When he saw this, he hissed, "I think we should take this outside."

"Hold on," demanded Atsushi, immediately standing from his desk, along with Kyouka and Kenji.

Dazai didn't even look at them, staring into Tanaka's eyes, as he held up his hand to stop them in their tracks. The smile melted off his face, replaced by a cold glare and lips pressed into a line. "I'm fine," he assured them, light tone not at all matching his expression.

"But—Dazai-san," Atsushi mumbled, eyes flickering between Dazai and Tanaka.

"You guys are so dramatic," Ranpo said with a roll of his eyes, absently watching the scene from his desk, which his feet were propped up on. "Dazai-kun said it's fine."

Dazai tilted his head mockingly at Tanaka. "Are we going outside?"

That, they did. Tanaka stomped down the stairs and through the cafe, out onto the crowded streets of Yokohama.

Dazai followed, of course, even as Tanaka led him towards a darkened alleyway, obstructed from the view of the general public. Inwardly, he thought that this guy was making it way too easy. He was an idiot.

Tanaka stared at the dead end wall for a minute, and then let out a cry of rage, turned on his heel, and began running at Dazai with his arm pulled back and his hand clenched into a fist.

Nonplussed, Dazai side stepped it, loving every minute of the surprise on Tanaka's face. "What? Did you think fighting someone your own size would be as easy as beating on a girl?"

That had Tanaka freezing immediately. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he growled out, and Dazai almost laughed at his attempt to be menacing and scary.

Right on time, a black SUV pulled up. He might not be in the mafia anymore, but Dazai had plenty of contacts from it. When masked men jumped out of the vehicle, surrounding Tanaka, Dazai smirked at the look of pure terror on his face.

"Don't play dumb. You aren't handsome enough to pull it off," he said lightly, and then laughed as Tanaka tried to call for help.

He was knocked out before he could.

When he awoke, eyes all bleary and with a searing headache, he was in a big, dark warehouse. It was old and beaten, with leaking pipes and creaky doors. He was sitting in a chair, hands cuffed together behind him.

Tanaka screamed.

Dazai walked in front of him casually, hands tucked into his pockets. "Scream all you like. No one will hear you," he said.

"Why are you doing this?! Who even are you, man?!" Tanaka cried, the tears falling down his cheeks. He looked so pathetic.

Dazai loved every second of it.

He hummed, walking forward until he was right in front of the bastard, footsteps echoing around the wide open space. Grabbing a fist full of Tanaka's hair, Dazai yanked his head back, so he'd be looking up at him, so he could see the icy glare, the hate.

"You hurt someone I'm very fond," Dazai said softly, tilting his head. "You hurt someone I love... And ever since she told me, I've been thinking of ways to make it fair for her. It's all I've thought about.

"She's not like you and me, you know. She's kind. She's sweet. She's good. You," Dazai scoffed, "you're pathetic. A man who has to beat defenseless women to feel good about himself is no man." When he leaned in close, so his lips were inching his ear, Tanaka whimpered. "And me? I'm the worst of the worst."

Now, all Tanaka could do was cry and plead, but Dazai wasn't having any of it. He let go of Tanaka's hair, letting his head fall limply, enjoying the sounds of his uttered prayer. "No god can save you from me," he told him in a pleasant voice, taking a few steps back.

Dazai crossed his arms and hummed thoughtfully, making a show of it. "I thought I could just kill you, but that's not really fair, is it? She has to live with what you did to her, and I think the fairest thing would be if you have to live with what I do to you."

"You're fucking psychotic," Tanaka whispered.

"Ah," Dazai agreed easily. "I've always been more of a proponent of revenge, rather than justice. See, she probably just wishes you'd have gone to jail." His casual tone melted into something deeper and smoother, deadlier. "Whereas I'm more of an eye-for-an-eye kind of guy, so..." He pursed his lips in faux thought, looking up at the ceiling. "What was it she said?"

Tanaka stared at him in horror, especially when Dazai stared him straight in the eye and smiled.

"Right. Broken jaw, collarbone, ribs, and wrist!" He said, snapping as if he'd just remembered it, as if your broken confession hadn't been causing him physical pain this whole time. "I have plenty of history with breaking jaws, so I guess we'll start there. What do you say?" he asked brightly.

Tanaka screamed again, the sound becoming a cry of raw terror as Dazai began walking towards him.

An hour later, Tanaka still sat in his chair, still handcuffed, but he was bloody and bruised. Every injury he inflicted on you, Dazai returned tenfold. He was delirious with pain, and in and out of consciousness.

Dazai grunted when he looked down at his hands, seeing the blood that absolutely coated his knuckles and bandages. He'd have to clean that up before coming home to you.

"You up?" he asked, walking closer.

When Tanaka immediately flinched back, Dazai hummed with satisfaction.

"I won't kill you," he said, as if he was doing Tanaka some great favor. "You're going to go about your pathetic, little life with no job, and every time you look at yourself, you'll remember this pain. You'll finally feel at least a fraction of what she did."

Tanaka just whimpered. It was hard to speak with a shattered jaw.

Dazai smiled at the sound, crouching down in front of him to force Tanaka to look him in the face, in the eyes. "The men who kidnapped you are going to drop you off at a hospital. They'll ask what happened, and you'll be tempted to tell them. So," his tone lowered into a hiss, breaking the somewhat casual facade now that Tanaka had physically felt his anger. There was no point hiding it now. "I'll tell you the same thing you told her at her lowest point, that defenseless girl who didn't stand a chance against a piece of shit like you: tell the cops, and I'll kill you."

Dazai stood, jaw clenched. "And I'll be watching you from now. Step a toe out of line, hurt anyone else, and I'll bring you right back here. Only, that time, I'll probably just go ahead and do the whole world a favor, and shoot you in the head.

"I bet no one would miss you at all, because that's how small you are."

With that, he walked away.

—I know that was pretty brutal, but to be honest, y'all, Dazai was a whole ass executive in the PM (the 'demon prodigy'). He tries to hold it back in the ADA (per his promise to Oda and his care for the others), but let's not kid ourselves. The guy does have the capacity to do some really evil shit, and I think if he'd do it for anyone, it'd be you

—It just pisses him off so much to feel helpless, especially when it comes to you. He couldn't save you, then, but he can damn well set the record straight. In his head, he had to do something. At the very least, he had to stop this guy from doing it again

—You were eating dinner with him that night, and hadn't really noticed anything out of the ordinary. Both of you were just sitting at the counter, digging into some instant ramen, and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you didn't pay such close attention to him.

There was a speck of blood on the collar of his coat.

"Hey, what happened?" you asked, concern pinching together your brows. Worried eyes scanned him over, looking for any sign of injury. You found none, though.

"It's not mine," Osamu answered, and then took a bite of his food, looking pointedly away from you.

You pursed your lips, tapping his wrist. "We don't lie to each other, O-sa-mu."

He couldn't help but smile a little at your tone. His eyes finally met your's, and he tapped your wrist back. "It's not a lie. It's-not-mine."

"It's a lie by omission if you don't tell me what happened."

You were terribly confused when his eyes softened, and then he gently pressed his hand to the back of your head, bringing you closer until your foreheads were touching. "What's wrong?" you mumbled.

"I can't tell you everything," he admitted slowly, eyes shut. He looked so peaceful, like he was where he was meant to me. Honestly, when Osamu was all soft like this, it took your breath away.

"Then tell me part of it," you breathed, reaching up to cup your hand around his neck. "Did something happen?"

He stayed quiet for a long time, though you didn't know how long. It was like he was contemplating something serious, and that both confused and worried you.

When he finally did speak, it felt like time froze. Everything froze.

"I made it fair. He won't ever hurt anyone else again. I made sure of it."

The words were a whispered promise, and you automatically knew what he was talking about, of course. He was mysterious, and he had been distrustful at first, and you knew he had once been in the mafia, but he was also the person you trusted the most in the world.

Osamu always went above and beyond for you, and you didn't feel as safe anywhere as you did with him.

You believed him wholeheartedly, and found that this admission was enough. You didn't need to know the details, and probably wouldn't want to.

The relief you felt was enough.

"Thank you, Osamu."

—Look, he's so bby girl with you, but he don't play when it comes to your abusive ex💀

—Just... just honestly don't fuck with the people this guy loves, okay? He's gd diabolical, and he can be so cruel to those that hurt who he cares about, so... Just watch it if you're tryna show out to his girl, okay, lmao

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Rose Recaps 2024 - Korea [ Thailand | Japan ]

Starting my list of favourite shows with Korea. They gave us so much angst, and some of them I still haven't fully been able to shake. Let's go.

The one with the existential dread

Love For Love's Sake

I was not ready. Not that I think there was a way I would be, but still. I was floored. It was an ambitious concept but executed pretty much flawlessly. If they had a bit more time, I think the world building could've benefited a little, cause there were parts that felt a bit rushed but overall the themes were well conveyed throughout. This show can be interpreted in a variety of ways, and one can take from it different things. For so much of this show I was filled with anxiety and sadness, but by the end the overall message of self love healed a small part of me. The visuals were strong and the actors did a wonderful job.

Favourite Moment:

Obvious perhaps, but no one can deny the beauty of this moment. Just the pure relief and joy I felt, made it one of my favourites of the year.

The one with all the yearning

The Time of Fever

I was so normal about this show. First let me just say, that I don't think of this show as a prequel. I know it is one, but I prefer to think of it as its own thing. This show drove me crazy. I suffered through it twice, and I kept finding new things that drove me insane. The yearning, the pining, the love these two have for each other that can only be rivalled by the fear they both share. Hotae is afraid of his feelings, because he can't understand them or can't accept them, but he also can't resist the pull. Donghee is afraid because he does understand, but he also knows what it means, so he needs to protect his friend from all the ugliness he himself has endured. And the actors just portrait these emotions so well. Truly some of the best acting I've seen this year. The camera work is outstanding, the framing always intentional and the lighting is good enough to break your heart.

Favourite Moment:

The heater between them??? Incredible. I'm still in awe of this whole scene. From the feeding of the orange slice to the kiss itself and their body language right to their expressions at the end. It was a flawless scene.

The one with all the trauma

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

Every week I was filled with excitement and dread waiting for new episodes. It was a painful journey for them and for me. Such a raw depiction of how trauma follows you long after you left the place where you endured it behind you. Closure is such an overused word, because it always sounds like there's a switch you can flip, and you're fine. Like it's that simple. The way Dohoe carried all of the abuse with him, how he shaped his life around it unconsciously, all along believing he was healing himself, it was heartbreaking to watch. And JuYeong. The boy who waited. The boy who understood and gave him the space to heal. Time stopped for 12 years for both of them. But they have a lifetime left to heal together and find happiness in the simple act of loving and being loved by each other.

Favourite Moment:

The symbolism destroyed me. The cross, the wall, the confession. Masterful.

The one that wasn't like the others

Love In The Big City

I don't even know what to say any more. It was an amazing adaption. Stellar acting, great script, gorgeous visuals. It's messy and it all feels so real. Young is one of my favourite characters of all time, both the one from the book and the one from the series. I wanted to hug him and hit him over the head at several points. I did appreciate the bigger presence of the T-aras, it left me more hopeful than the novel. I'm still not over the break up though.

Favourite Moment:

The honesty, the unconditional acceptance. To watch Young experience it for the first time was overwhelming.

Honourable mention to Boys Be Brave that I adored. And the only reason is not in this list is because of the second couple. They needed more time, and even with the time they had I thought the writing of that storyline was a bit messy. But I loved the mains.

Be back soon with the next one. Maybe💜