#even though it feels weird knowing people talk about me when I’m not their and I exist to them like that

[cumironi]

YOU ARE GOOD TO ME jjk men

feat. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna, shiu, higuruma

summary. “i would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulty of your life,” you said when your boyfriend have a bad day. why? you too have no idea, maybe because the fact that you don't know how and never once in you life comforting someone. genuinely. again genuinly.

warning. non-sorcerer! jjk men, crack, fluff, petnames,

GOJO SATORU

the apartment door slammed open like he’d just escaped war, and satoru gojo stumbled in dramatically with his white hair sticking out in every possible direction, sunglasses askew, and his coat only halfway on. he groaned as if gravity had quadrupled just for him. “i’m a broken man,” he announced, kicking off one shoe and somehow missing the entire genkan floor, letting it fly into the wall. “a shell. an empty husk. your poor boyfriend’s gonna die, babe.”

you looked up from your laptop on the couch, blanket wrapped around you like a burrito, eyebrows raised. “you say that every time you have to walk up stairs.”

“these weren’t stairs,” he collapsed face-first onto the couch beside you, not even bothering to move your legs—just burying his face right into your thighs like they were some heavenly pillow from ikea. “this was hell disguised as productivity.”

you let your fingers run through his messy hair, watching him melt under the touch. he peeked up at you through the curtain of silver strands and whimpered. “aren’t you gonna comfort me, sweetheart? tell me i’m a strong, hardworking man? kiss my forehead? lick my—”

“i would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulty of your life,” you interrupted dryly.

satoru paused. blinked. then wheezed out a laugh like he’d just short-circuited. “what kind of weird-ass therapist talk is that? are you trying to seduce me or initiate a cult?”

you shrugged. “i read it online. it’s for people who are bad at comforting others.”

he burst out laughing again, rolling onto his back and yanking you down onto his chest with him, despite your protests about needing to finish your assignment. “baby, that was the worst attempt at comforting i’ve ever received. and also the funniest. you’re not supposed to make me wheeze when i’m dying. you’re supposed to kiss it better. preferably with tongue.”

“you’re so dramatic,” you mumbled against his neck, feeling the vibration of his chuckles under your lips. but he felt warm. exhausted, yes—but warm. arms tight around you like he needed you to keep him from sinking through the earth.

he sighed, running a hand down your back. “you know what, though? i actually like that stupid line. ‘i would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulty of your life.’ that’s hot in a weird way. mysterious. do it again, but whisper it in my ear like you’re about to tie me to a chair and interrogate me.”

you laughed into his collarbone, swatting at his side. “you’re unhinged.”

“and you’re terrible at comforting,” he grinned, lips pressing to your temple. “perfect match.”

he nuzzled into your cheek, breath soft and warm as he murmured, “thanks for not trying to fix it. just… lying here with me. even if you suck at words. i love your stupid mouth anyway.”

you blinked. “is that your version of affection?”

“it’s my version of proposing,” he teased, then added seriously, quieter this time, “you’re my favorite place to fall apart.”

you didn’t need to say anything back. just the way your hand found his and curled your fingers together said enough.

GETO SUGURU

the door to your shared apartment creaked open much slower this time. suguru didn’t have the dramatic flair of gojo—not unless he wanted something—but you could hear the unmistakable sigh as he stepped inside, shoulders heavy under the weight of whatever hell he’d just endured. he didn’t say a word, not even a greeting, just kicked off his boots, loosened the black tie around his neck, and tossed his coat over the armchair like a man who’d just survived an apocalypse and wanted absolutely no questions about it.

you peered up from the floor where you’d been lying belly-down with your laptop, typing an essay due in four hours and slowly accepting your fate. “hey,” you called softly. “you look like a ghost.”

“feel like one,” he muttered, voice hoarse as he stepped over your textbooks and dropped down beside you, his tall frame curling next to yours like he was seconds from passing out right there on the floor. “every joint in my body hates me. my brain is soup. and not even good soup. like lukewarm instant ramen broth.”

you scooted a little closer, until your thighs were touching. you didn’t know what to say. you were never great at comfort—it always felt forced, like reciting lines from a textbook. but you tried. “i would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulty of your life.”

geto froze.

turned his head slowly toward you with a blank stare.

“…what the hell did you just say?”

“it’s a thing!” you defended quickly. “for people who suck at comforting others, you’re supposed to say that. it shows solidarity.”

he blinked once. then again. then he made a deep, guttural sound from his chest—one that started as a chuckle and very quickly turned into a full-blown laugh, his hand dragging down his face like he couldn’t believe he’d just heard that come out of your mouth.

“baby,” he said between breathless laughs, “that sounds like something someone would say to a war criminal before interviewing them on a podcast.”

“well, i’m trying,” you muttered, looking away. “do you want a hug or not?”

he reached for you instantly, arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you into his lap like a man starved for affection. “yes, i want a hug. i want your shitty comfort. i want your confused college girl energy. i want all of it. come here.”

your legs tangled together as he nuzzled into your neck, his voice muffled against your skin. “your awkward little line is staying with me forever, by the way. next time someone tries to lecture me, i’m just gonna stare at them and whisper, ‘i would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulty of your life,’ and see if they cry.”

“maybe they’ll fall in love with you like i did,” you offered, biting back a grin.

he kissed your shoulder. “they won’t. i’m saving my unhinged affection for you.”

you turned toward him, brows lifted in mock curiosity. “unhinged affection, huh? is that what you call pressing your nose into my cleavage while you sigh dramatically?”

“don’t disrespect my rituals,” he said solemnly, burying his face between your boobs like a man returning to his homeland. “this is how i recharge. spiritual energy. it’s science.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you laughed, letting him pull you fully into his lap, arms tight around your waist.

but he didn’t say anything else for a moment—just held you there, cheek pressed against your chest, breathing steady and warm. when he finally spoke again, it was quiet. tired.

“you don’t have to say the right thing. i just… like when you’re here. even when you’re awkward and quoting therapy twitter. especially then.”

you smiled, combing your fingers through his soft hair, brushing it back from his temple.

“i’d like to join you in acknowledging how bad you are at expressing emotions,” you said sweetly.

“you little shit.”

“you love me.”

“unfortunately, yes,” he whispered, kissing your collarbone. “very much so.”

NANAMI KENTO

you heard the apartment door click shut before the wall clock even hit 8 p.m., which meant something was wrong. nanami was never home this early. it wasn’t his style. he worked late, came back when the world was quiet, shoulders tight and tie loosened, jaw clenched like he was still arguing with someone in his head.

but tonight, it was different. he didn’t say a word when he came in. just walked in like his bones had betrayed him, hands in his pockets, tie already undone, and that golden tan trench coat of his draped over one arm like it weighed fifty pounds.

you sat up from your spot on the floor, where textbooks and half-drunk iced coffee cups surrounded you like a shrine to academic burnout before rise to your feet. “hey…” you said softly. “you’re home early.”

“burned out,” nanami said simply, putting his coat on the back of a chair like he was laying a body to rest. “utterly depleted. mentally, physically, spiritually, emotionally—choose your adjective.”

you stood there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do with your arms. you weren’t the best at emotional first aid, and nanami was so… composed. always so damn calm, even when the world around him was on fire. it felt wrong seeing him like this—shoulders slumped, voice dull, his usual neat hair slightly tousled from stress.

so you cleared your throat. “i would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulty of your life.”

nanami froze.

slowly turned his head toward you like you’d just spoken in tongues. “pardon?”

“it’s supposed to be a comforting phrase,” you explained quickly, cheeks heating up. “for people who don’t know what to say but want to be supportive.”

he blinked at you for a long, silent beat.

then, deadpan, he said, “i feel like i just got emotionally mansplained by a motivational instagram reel.”

you sputtered, trying not to laugh. “you’re not helping.”

“no, you’re right,” he sighed, stepping closer until his hands found your waist, his head dipping down to rest on your shoulder. “i appreciate it. even if it sounds like something someone’s overly enthusiastic coworker would say in a corporate support group.”

his arms wrapped around you slowly—deliberately—like this was the only thing anchoring him to the floor. you could feel the tension melt away in pieces, each exhale grounding him a little more in your presence. “you’re terrible at comforting, by the way,” he murmured against your neck. “but you’re warm. and soft. and you smell like that overpriced shampoo i bought you, so i’m not complaining.”

you snorted. “so you do notice when i use it.”

“i notice everything,” he said, leaning back just enough to look down at you. “especially when you walk past me in those little shorts you think i don’t see.”

your mouth dropped open. “nanami kento.”

“i’m tired, not blind,” he muttered, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then your jaw. “let me rest my forehead on your boobs and pretend they’re a stress ball.”

you smacked his shoulder, giggling. “you’re supposed to be the mature one.”

“i have a professional reputation,” he mumbled as he guided you to the couch with him, sinking down with a deep, grateful sigh. “but not here. here, i’m your very tired, very needy boyfriend who just wants to be held and babied and—”

“don’t say babied.”

“—and smothered,” he continued stubbornly, resting his head in your lap like it was a luxury pillow. “preferably to death.”

you stroked his hair, soft and slow, and smiled down at him. “you want a bedtime story too?”

“only if it ends with you riding me into the sunset,” he murmured, eyes already half-lidded from comfort.

you blinked. “…sir.”

“you offered. i’m just being imaginative.” he looked up at you with that small, rare smile—the kind he only gave when he was too tired to hide how much he adored you.

“seriously, though,” he added quietly, fingers lacing with yours. “thank you. even when you’re awkward, you’re everything i need.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO

he didn’t even knock. he kicked the door open like it owed him money, his tall frame slouched in the doorway, one hand on the back of his neck, the other holding a plastic bag of convenience store food that looked like it had been crushed under his boot.

“hey, baby,” he called out, voice already heavy with exhaustion as he kicked the door shut behind him. “i think i tore my soul today. like, straight up. my legs are vibrating. that ain’t normal, right?”

you looked up from your laptop where you were halfway through a research paper, eyes dry and fingers twitching from too much caffeine. “you look like you just got hit by a truck.”

“mm.” he dropped the bag on the kitchen counter and slumped into the couch like gravity was trying to eat him alive. “probably did. can’t remember. the day was a blur of dumbasses and testosterone.”

you blinked at him. he looked so done—shirt halfway unbuttoned, tie hanging like a noose, hair a mess, one eye twitching from what you could only assume was the sheer mental stamina it took to not punch someone today.

you closed your laptop and stood. time to try.

“i would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulty of your life.”

silence.

toji turned his head very slowly to stare at you from the couch.

“…the fuck was that?”

“it’s a thing,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “i’m trying to comfort you. don’t make fun of me.”

his lips twitched. you saw it. the way his eyes lit up like he’d just found his new favorite toy. “that was you trying to comfort me?”

“yes.”

he let out a low, slow laugh, leaning his head back against the couch. “baby, i love you, but that sounded like you were about to put on a headset and guide me through a meditation app.”

“okay, rude. i’m literally trying to be there for you.”

he patted his thigh lazily. “then get over here. bring those soft little thighs i like and come help me ‘acknowledge the difficulty of my life.’”

you rolled your eyes but walked over anyway, crawling into his lap and straddling him as his hands immediately settled on your waist like muscle memory. he looked up at you, eyes heavy-lidded, mouth pulled into a lazy grin.

“you’re bad at comforting, but you’re hot, so i’m willing to overlook it,” he said, sliding his palms up your thighs under your oversized shirt. “wanna kiss it better?”

“kiss what better?”

“my brain. my bones. my soul. my—”

“toji—”

“—cock. obviously.” he gave you a smug little smirk, resting his forehead against your chest like he was about to fall asleep right there. “’m serious though. lemme stay here a bit. you’re warm. and soft. and smell better than anyone I’ve touched all day.”

your fingers drifted into his hair without thinking, stroking back the messy strands. “you’re such a menace.”

“yeah,” he mumbled, already dozing, “but i’m your menace. the tired, aching, sex-deprived, emotionally-stunted mess you chose.”

you snorted and kissed the top of his head. “if you weren’t so hot i’d slap you.”

“do both,” he whispered against your chest. “get creative.”

but then, quieter, he added, “thanks for trying. i like it. even when it sounds like a therapy robot malfunctioning.”

you paused. smiled. and hugged him tighter.

“anytime, menace.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA

you didn’t expect to see him on the couch like that.

sukuna was always loud—annoying and smug, lounging across your bed like he owned the place (because he absolutely believed he did). he talked too much, flirted too shamelessly, and got under your skin so easily it was practically a talent.

but right now? he was quiet.

legs spread wide, forearms resting on his thighs, head tilted back with his eyes shut like he was trying not to bite someone’s head off. the black markings on his skin seemed duller than usual, and his eyes—usually narrowed and gleaming—looked heavy, like the weight of the world had finally pressed down on him for once.

you tiptoed over, unsure, nervous. sukuna wasn’t like anyone else. he didn’t want sympathy. he didn’t even believe in comfort.

but still…

“i would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulty of your life.”

his eyes cracked open.

slowly. like he was wondering if he just hallucinated that.

“…what.”

you shifted on your feet, hands behind your back. “i’m not good at… emotional stuff. but i read that line somewhere. it’s supposed to help.”

he stared at you. dead silent. not blinking. eyes locked onto you with the intensity of a man who had never in his life heard anything so baffling.

and then—

he laughed.

not a chuckle. not a snort. a deep, full-body laugh that came from his chest and shook his shoulders, one hand dragging down his face like he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“you’re such a little idiot,” he wheezed, grinning now, eyes gleaming with mischief as he sat up straighter. “what the hell was that? who the fuck wrote that? i wanna thank them for the comedy gold.”

“shut up!” you pouted, smacking his arm. “i’m trying to be supportive!”

“supportive?” he scoffed, grabbing your wrist before you could pull back and yanking you right onto his lap, like he was done pretending to need space. “you sound like you’re reciting a spell to make me spontaneously combust.”

“maybe i am.”

he grinned again. slow and lazy. “you trying to kill me, baby?”

“no,” you muttered, cheeks warm as your legs straddled his thighs, hands braced on his broad shoulders. “just… you looked tired. and i didn’t know what to say.”

he hummed, arms sliding around your waist without hesitation, pressing you closer until your chest touched his. “i am tired. but if you keep climbing on me like this, i’ll forget all about it.”

you rolled your eyes, but your hands slipped up into his hair anyway, tugging gently. “you’re so dramatic.”

“and you’re so soft,” he murmured, burying his face in your neck, his voice suddenly quieter. rougher. “smell nice. feel even better. mm. i should fall apart more often if it means you’ll climb into my lap and say weird shit.”

you felt him exhale, long and slow, against your skin. he was warm. heavy. not just in body but presence—like he carried the weight of centuries and finally, finally let someone else hold him for a minute.

“you okay?” you asked, voice quieter this time.

“i’m fine,” he replied easily. “i’m always fine. just… annoyed. tired of dealing with people. bored. everything feels stupid.”

you nodded. “i get that.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, two of his fingers tracing along your jaw. “you don’t need to say anything smart, you know. you just gotta be here. let me touch you. let me forget the rest of the world.”

“…you really are a pervert.”

“you say that like you’re not grinding on my lap while calling me tired.”

“sukuna—!”

“you love it,” he smirked, dragging his fingers down your spine until you shivered. “and i love you. even if you say weird comforting lines like some emotional AI.”

you blinked.

“what.”

“don’t make me say it again,” he said, too smoothly. “i’m only saying it once. i’m exhausted, not weak.”

you stared at him. for once, he looked flustered. not red-faced, not babbling, but that little twitch at the corner of his mouth gave it away.

you leaned in, whispered against his lips, “i would like to acknowledge the difficulty of your heart finally admitting that.”

“i swear i’ll spank you right now,” he growled, mouth already crashing against yours, exhausted and starving for you all at once.

SHIU KONG

you heard the door before you saw him—soft click, slow open, followed by the sound of a deep exhale and the thunk of expensive leather shoes being kicked off without care.

he rarely came home this quiet.

you peeked out from behind your textbook, still in your oversized hoodie and fuzzy socks, hair up in a lazy bun, half a bag of chips already devoured beside you.

he looked like hell. beautiful, expensive hell. black coat half off his shoulders, tie loose, eyes low-lidded with a dangerous kind of fatigue.

he didn’t even glance at you. just walked straight to the bar cart, poured himself a glass of dark liquor, and sank into the leather armchair like he was made for it.

you padded up to him quietly, awkward and unsure. your lips parted, brain short-circuiting, and then you blurted out, “i would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulty of your life.”

shiu froze mid-sip.

he slowly lowered his glass and turned his head toward you with the slow, deliberate grace of a man wondering if you’d just tried to initiate a séance.

“…what the hell did you just say to me?”

“i’m trying to comfort you,” you said quickly, a little embarrassed now. “i read it online. it’s supposed to validate your emotional experience.”

he blinked.

then—deadpan, flatly—he asked, “are you high?”

“no! i’m being serious. you just look… really exhausted.”

he stared at you for a moment longer before his lips twitched. he took another slow sip of his drink, watching you over the rim of the glass like a predator watching its prey try to act tough.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” he murmured, voice low and amused. “because that was the most HR-approved way anyone has ever tried to flirt with me.”

“i wasn’t flirting!” you gasped.

“mm. so you just randomly walk up to me and talk like a guidance counselor in the middle of an emotional crisis?”

you flushed, crossing your arms. “okay, you know what? forget it. next time i’ll just let you rot in your classy little despair cave and do nothing.”

he grabbed your wrist before you could walk away, gently tugging you into his lap with practiced ease. his hand slid under the hem of your hoodie, warm palm splaying against your bare thigh.

“you’re not leaving me alone when i’m like this,” he said, voice dipped in that tired, rich silk tone that made your stomach twist.

you settled against him reluctantly, your head resting on his shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of his dress shirt.

“i didn’t know what to say,” you muttered. “i’ve never seen you this tired. you’re always so… put together.”

he chuckled, low and bitter. “baby, you’re the only person i’d even let see me like this. the rest of the world gets the polished version. you get the man underneath the suit.”

“…so you admit you’re actually a cryptid.”

“a very expensive cryptid,” he murmured, letting his lips brush your temple. “one who only wants his bratty little girl curled up on his lap when he feels like throwing someone off a balcony.”

you laughed softly, fingers playing with his tie. “do you feel any better?”

“no,” he said honestly. “but i’m enjoying the view now. keep sitting there like that and i might forget how many people pissed me off today.”

“you’re such a perv.”

“i’m exhausted and in need of emotional support. and by emotional support, i mean your thighs.”

“…you’re impossible.”

“and you love it,” he whispered against your ear, nipping gently. “now be a good girl and keep acknowledging me. preferably without sounding like a therapy hotline next time.”

HIGURUMA HIROMI

he didn’t even greet you when he walked through the door.

his shoulders were tight. his expression, unreadable. briefcase in hand, tie loosened just enough to tell you he’d been fighting with it in the elevator. he kicked his shoes off, dropped his keys in the tray, and exhaled like the weight of the whole goddamn justice system had been balanced on his spine.

you blinked from the couch, still in your pajama pants and tanktop at 6 p.m., cuddled up with your laptop and a cup of tea you’d already reheated twice. he hadn’t even looked at you yet.

so you stood up, heart softening, and approached him slowly like he was a wounded animal. his eyes finally met yours—tired, heavy, rimmed with frustration and fatigue.

and you said, completely earnestly, “i would like to join you in acknowledging the difficulty of your life.”

he blinked.

paused.

just stood there, stunned in his wrinkled white dress shirt and undone tie, looking like you’d just offered him a lifeline made out of cling wrap and good intentions.

“…what?” he asked, voice hoarse.

you fidgeted. “it’s supposed to help people feel seen. and supported. and stuff.”

he stared at you.

and then—without a word—he set his briefcase down, stepped forward, and just…

collapsed into you.

face first.

straight into your boobs.

you froze. arms still awkwardly midair. hiromi was usually so composed, so careful about touching you, always asking permission like a gentleman even when his eyes darkened with hunger.

but now? he was clinging to your waist with both arms wrapped tight, burying his face in your chest like it was his only safe haven, letting out a muffled, broken little sigh.

“…you really are something else,” he mumbled into your tits, voice low and muffled by your skin. “who even says that?”

“i was trying to be comforting!” you squeaked, cheeks warm as you slowly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, one hand carding through his soft hair. “this is my first time dating a tired, hot lawyer.”

“you’re doing horribly,” he said, not moving an inch.

“…but you’re still nuzzled into my boobs.”

“they’re warm. soft. significantly better than anything else that happened to me today.”

you smiled, holding him closer. he melted against you, hips pressing to yours like he needed to feel all of you at once, breathing in the scent of your skin like it grounded him. your heart fluttered, cheeks on fire as he sighed again and murmured:

“do you even know what you do to me?”

“uh. judging by the fact that your face is in my cleavage right now, maybe?”

he laughed softly. almost shyly. and then—still with his face hidden—he admitted, quietly, “i was so close to snapping today. just one more word, one more file on my desk, and i think i would’ve lost it.”

you pressed your lips to the top of his head.

“i don’t need you to be perfect, hiromi. just let yourself be held sometimes, okay?”

he didn’t respond at first. just nuzzled in deeper, like he wanted to climb inside your skin and stay there forever.

“…you’re dangerously good at this,” he whispered finally. “even with the weird lines.”

“i practiced in the mirror.”

“adorable.”

“horny.”

“also true.”

he finally tilted his head up, resting his chin against your chest as he looked up at you, eyes softer now. the kind of soft that made your knees go weak. the kind of soft that made you forget he could probably ruin a man in court without blinking.

“can we stay like this for a while?” he asked.

you nodded.

he kissed your sternum, then let his head fall back into place with a content little hum.

“…you smell like cookies.”

“you smell like burnout and moral crisis.”

“perfect. we balance each other out.”

[rosierin]

i used to love him | suna rintarou

synopsis; (y/n) talks about her feelings towards suna, from childhood to current day.

suna's pov here

this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

I used to love him.

Not in a way you plan for. It just sort of… happened.

It was cute, honestly. Innocent. Simple. The kind of thing people call puppy love. At least, that’s how I’ve always seen it. Loving him came as easily as breathing, or blinking. It was quiet but constant—something that made the world feel a little brighter. Something worth waking up for. A little secret joy that sat behind everything else, like music playing faintly in the background of a really good day.

I think it started when we were around ten, in elementary school.

We were kids who got along without even trying. The ones who sat in the corner at birthday parties, trading sweets instead of dancing. The kind that didn't need to fit into larger friend groups. We were happy so long as we had each other, perfectly content as just a little duo.

Rin didn’t talk much—still doesn’t, actually.

He was my opposite in every way.

Quiet. Aloof. A little standoffish. I’m pretty sure people called him “the weird kid,” which—yeah, he kind of was. He never really made the effort to make friends. Usually ate alone during lunch. Would rather work solo than in group projects.

I don’t really know why I approached him first… I guess I must’ve found him mysterious or something. Like maybe he was just pretending not to care, and I wanted to see if I could crack it.

I still remember our first proper conversation.

We were sitting next to each other during lunch, and I noticed Pokémon Platinum poking out of his backpack. I’m pretty sure I went into a full-on tangent that day, rambling about how Sinnoh was my favourite region and which Pokémon were criminally underrated.

I always laugh when I think about it. He must’ve been like, “Who the hell is this nutcase and why is she all up in my face?”

But I mean—he couldn't have been that bothered since he sat through the whole thing. Nodded along. Never looked away. Even at the time, I remember being weirdly struck by how good he was at eye contact.

He couldn’t have been that shy, then, I thought.

And clearly he wasn’t as anti-social as everyone said, because after that? We were inseparable. I’m not sure how it happened—though I’m almost certain I planned it—but before long I was going to his house nearly every weekend. We’d play DS together. Have sleepovers. We'd even share a bed.

He wasn’t chatty like me. But that never bothered me. I was more than happy to do enough talking for the both of us. I think even as a kid, I liked his silence. It meant I could ramble about whatever I wanted without worrying if I was being too much.

Rin never made me feel like I was too much.

Never told me to be quiet. Never told me to go away.

And somehow, despite being nothing like me, Rin quickly became my favourite person.

I remember sitting by the school gates before class, tracing patterns into my shoelaces while I waited for him.

Even if he was late.

Especially if he was late.

Even when he was sick, I’d wait for at least an hour, just in case he'd show up. (I sound kinda crazy now that I say it out loud.)

I always gave him the green highlighter. I think I told him it didn’t suit me. Told him it matched his eyes. (It did. I've always like his pretty eyes.)

Everyone called us a duo. Not in a weird way—more like we just made sense together. Wherever one of us went, people expected the other.

And honestly? I liked that.

I liked when teachers asked, “Where’s (y/n)?” or “Where’s Rin?” whenever one of us was missing.

I liked being his other half. Loved being his person.

And maybe that’s where it all started.

In the little things. The small, unnoticed spaces where love begins to grow—before you even have the words for it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I think I really knew when we were around thirteen, in middle school.

I started getting nervous around him—even though I never had before. And for the stupidest reasons, too.

My hands got all fidgety and clammy when we talked. My words jumbled. I noticed how close we sat. I noticed the way our hands brushed when we walked side by side. The way his arm felt warm when it pressed against mine during class. I noticed how much I noticed.

Rin's always been big on eye contact when he talks. It’s something I love now. But at thirteen? It was terrifying. I used to look away when he held my gaze too long, like I was going to combust or something.

It was that kind of crush. The teen rom-com kind. The hair-twirling, feet-kicking, doodling-his-name-in-your-notebook kinda love. Sweet, harmless, a little naïve.

I remember doing some pretty cringe stuff. Like trying to mould myself into his exact type.

If he complimented another girl’s outfit, you better believe I’d show up the next week wearing something eerily similar. Oh—he liked a certain perfume? I ordered it off Amazon that same night.

There was even this one time he mentioned he liked the “sporty girl” archetype in anime. And after that, I wore a ponytail. Every single day. No exceptions. Sometimes I’d even throw on a dad cap on weekends, just to really play the part.

It was embarrassing, honestly. And so painfully obvious. (Even though thirteen-year-old me probably thought I was being subtle.)

And yet, Rin never said a thing. Nothing changed. He never pulled away... but he never leaned closer, either.

I’m almost certain he knew. He had to know. I guess he just didn’t see me that way. Which was totally fine, for the record. No pressure. So I kept smiling. Kept laughing at his jokes. Kept pretending I wasn’t in love with him.

And for the most part? That was fine by me.

I was content loving him quietly. Just appreciating his company. Daydreaming in secret. Hoping, a little—but mostly just accepting whatever it was we had going on.

And eventually… it started to fade.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

We started high school at fifteen. Same school, of course.

Choosing a high school was, at the time, the most stressful decision of my life. I genuinely thought if I made the wrong choice, I’d ruin everything. Like, full meltdown. I cried twice and made it everyone's problem.

(Spoiler alert: it wasn’t that deep.)

I considered just staying local. The town school was fine. Definitely the safer and easier option. But then Rin got scouted by Inarizaki’s volleyball coach, and that was it for me. End of story. Because going to a different school than Rin?

No way. That was... unequivocally, out of the question.

Going to a different school than him wasn’t just unappealing—it was impossible. I’d told him back in middle school that I’d follow him wherever he went, and I meant it. (I don’t think he believed me at the time, but he should’ve known better.)

My parents weren’t too fussed about it. In fact, when I mentioned Rin was going too, they were relieved and said something like, “ Well if Rin’s there, we know you’ll be fine.” Which… fair enough. They trusted him almost as much as I did.

Still, moving to a new region, staying in dorms, living away from home for the first time? It was a lot. I was excited, but also terrified. Everything was new and unfamiliar—new teachers, new routines, new slang I had to Google in secret.

But Rin was still Rin.

Still my person. Still the one I sat next to during orientation. Still the one I went to when I got homesick.

We weren’t just fine. We were solid.

We had different classes, sure. Different schedules at times. But it didn’t matter. We still ate lunch together. Walked back to the dorms together. Watched anime on his laptop together. Nothing between us had really changed. And that alone made everything else feel manageable.

It wasn’t long before I started watching him play.

Volleyball had always looked good on him. His movements were sharp, calculated and effortless. Watching him on the court made me feel oddly proud, even though I had nothing to do with it.

Eventually, I asked to meet the team. I always saw them after practice so I figured, why not? He agreed, of course. Told me they were all "pretty cool".

That’s when I met the Miya twins.

And honestly? My first impression? Pretty 50/50.

I'll let you guess which twin was my favourite.

(Spoiler alert: it wasn't Atsumu.)

Atsumu was loud, cocky, and honestly a little insufferable. He was your typical jock. A frat boy in the making. At least that's what my initial thoughts were. I'd later realize he's far too much of a softie for that kind of debaucherous lifestyle and actually cares about his education.

Osamu, on the other hand, was far easier to talk to. Calmer. Less... in your face. He still teased and was competitive like his brother, but he was a lot more grounded and mature. He actually listened when people spoke. He was a little more serious. A little more thoughtful.

He reminded me of Rin in some ways—same sense of humour, similar "vibe"—but I could tell he was just as hot-blooded than his twin, just better at hiding it.

I liked him straight away.

But Rin? Rin was still the one I looked for.

Still the one I cheered for during practice.

Still the one who made everything feel like home.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

By the time we were sixteen, something shifted.

It didn't hit me all at once. Nothing like that. No sudden realisation. It was... more of a slow build.

I think it started when I stopped waiting for him after class. Not because I didn’t want to—but because he stopped expecting me to, I think. We were older now, and maybe I just didn’t know how to ask if he still wanted me there. I think a small part of me was afraid he'd find be overbearing.

So… I found new people to walk with. I sat with the twins more often. Got to know them more. I found out Osamu was a massive foodie and a true sweetheart, and that Atsumu was actually just a massive poser—a big, fat jerk, yes, but one with a big heart for those in his circle. A circle I had somehow managed to weave myself into.

I was starting to learn how to hold my own in a school that didn’t revolve around Rin.

And it wasn’t about replacing him. Oh no—definitely not that.

He was still my safe place. Still the person who knew me best.

But I was starting to feel like… maybe I could be my own person too. I’d always been more of a social butterfly, but ever since I met Rin, my circle had mostly revolved around him. So making new friends felt really nice—refreshing, even.

I got close to the Miya twins pretty fast—faster than Rin did, actually. They were impossible to ignore. Loud, chaotic, but strangely grounding in their own way. Osamu was calm and dependable, with a wicked sense of humour once you earned it. We had our own inside jokes now—mostly at his brother’s expense.

Speaking of the latter—

Things got... strange between us. Well—not strange. But at some point, our bickering didn’t feel like bickering anymore. It felt like something suspiciously close to flirting. He started it, of course.

He was so not my type. Funnily enough, if I had to pick one of the two, it’d be Osamu. So imagine my confusion when I started to realize I had feelings for Atsumu.

I think it’s because he challenged me. Pushed my buttons. Pulled things out of me I didn’t know were there. He made me raise my voice. Made me dig my heels in. Made me fight for my space in a way that was oddly exhilarating.

We were fire and fire. Burned too bright on some days, but we always came back.

He was never quiet like Rin. Never still. Never easy.

But with Atsumu, I didn’t feel like I had to wait.

And maybe that was easier than reaching for someone who never reached back.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

We were seventeen when I realized I wasn’t in love with Rin anymore.

And it didn’t break me. It didn't make me feel particularly sad.

It just… passed. Quietly. Like something I’d outgrown. Like a sweater that didn’t quite fit the same, no matter how much you used to love it.

I still loved him, of course. I don’t think that part ever changed. But it wasn’t the breathless, giddy, daydreamy kind of love anymore. My love had settled into something softer. Like nostalgia. Like home.

Or at least… that’s what I told myself.

We were eighteen when the four of us moved in together. It felt like a natural next step—me, the twins, and Rin. Like starting a new chapter of a story we were all co-writing.

And then came New Year’s Eve.

Rin's house was quiet. The twins were back in Hyōgo. His parents were out. We were alone in his room, lights off, movie forgotten, fireworks going off in the distance like the climax of some cheesy shōjo anime.

And then… he kissed me.

No warning. No build-up. Just—one second we were sitting side by side, and the next, his mouth was on mine.

And I froze. Not because I didn’t want it. Just… because I didn’t understand it.

Because for one awful, beautiful second, it felt like everything came rushing back. Like my feelings had been waiting. Like they’d never really gone away at all.

I kissed him back. I kissed him like I’d always wanted to.

My hands in his hair. Chest pressed to his. His breath in my mouth.

And then his hands slid to my waist. He climbed on top of me. And I let him. I let him kiss me harder. Let him touch me. Let myself get swept up in it—drunk on him. On the weight of his body. The way he whispered my name. The way he called me beautiful like I was truly his to admire.

I think I was panting his name by then. I think I forgot how to think.

And somewhere in the middle of all of that—that’s when the confusion hit.

Because I didn’t know what I was feeling. Didn’t know what he was feeling.

What made him do it? Why now?

Surely not love. He’d never hinted at anything like that before. He’d never looked at me like that. Never touched me like someone who’d been waiting.

So was it lust?

And if it was… That stung. More than I thought it would.

I didn’t feel it that night, though. Not right away. That hurt only came later—once the adrenaline wore off. Once I was lying awake and remembering every second. Every sigh. Every touch.

But in the moment?

I was too busy getting lost in him. Too busy writhing beneath him. Too busy hoping—just for a second—that maybe I was wrong. Maybe it did mean something.

And then I panicked.

Because it was too fast. Too much. Too not us.

And I knew—deep in my gut—that this couldn’t be the way our story played out.

I didn’t want to be a one-night thing for him.

Didn’t want to ruin what we had just because my heart got caught in the crossfire of something he didn’t mean.

So I pulled away.

Didn’t say a word. Just let the moment pass.

And we never talked about it again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I thought maybe he regretted it.

Or maybe he just didn’t care.

Or maybe I’d imagined the whole thing meant more than it did.

It didn't help that he never brought it up. Not once. Still, he never looked at me any differently. But he never asked if I was okay, either.

And yeah… maybe that hurt a little.

Was it embarrassment? Was I a mistake? Was it just lust, some throwaway moment he didn’t want to acknowledge?

I didn’t know. Still don’t.

So I let it go. Buried it deep. Filed it away in that part of my brain labeled: “Don’t think about this unless you want to overthink yourself into insanity.”

I decided to move forward. I started laughing more. Smiling wider. Let myself lean into other people.

I grew closer to Atsumu—not to replace something I lost, but because he was there. Steady in his own chaotic, big-hearted way.

He made me laugh. Gave me hell. Challenged me. Made me feel seen. With him, I never had to guess. Never had to read between the lines or sit with questions I wasn’t brave enough to ask.

(Or at least, that’s what I thought at the time. But that’s a whole other can of worms.)

Sometimes—just sometimes—that night still comes back to me.

His hands. His breath. The way he said my name like it meant something.

And I still don’t know how to feel about it.

It’s probably nothing.

It’s all in the past.

And there's nothing weird about it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

We were nineteen when I started realizing how little I thought about Rin in that way anymore. Like—actually, this time.

Not because I didn’t care. I still care—very much so. I guess I just... stopped expecting anything to happen entirely.

He was still Rin. Still steady. Still there. Still my best friend who I deeply cherish and always will.

But whatever we used to be—whatever I used to feel—it's settled into something quieter. Something softer and easier to carry.

He never brought up that kiss. Not once. Never looked at me differently. Never made it weird. Just… carried on like it hadn’t meant anything. Like we were the same as we’d always been.

And eventually, I guess I believed him and moved on.

Even now, nothing’s really changed.

We’re almost done with college. On the cusp of whatever comes next.

Atsumu and I aren’t a thing. Not really. But there’s something there. A flicker, maybe. Or a fire I’m still figuring out.

I’m happy, though.

No, really—I am!

I’ve got three best friends. A home that feels like mine. Days that make me laugh until my stomach hurts.

Rin’s still a major part of my world. Still close, in that comfortable, familiar way. Still easy to be around. Still my best friend that I'd do anything for.

It’s rare—but sometimes, I wonder if he still thinks about that kiss.

Even rarer—but sometimes, I wonder if I should’ve let it happen.

I wonder if I ever really fell out of love with him… or if I just learned how to live without hoping.

But most days?

Most days, I don’t wonder at all.

Most days, I’m okay.

And that’s more than enough.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He’s looking at me now.

I smile—out of habit, mostly. But it’s real.

He smiles back, like always.

And for a second, something in my chest stirs. Something old. Something that used to ache.

But it doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s just… there. A quiet flicker of something that once mattered a little more than it does now.

I blink, and it’s gone.

Whatever it was—it’s not ours anymore.

Maybe it never really was.

And maybe I’m okay with that.

I’ve got my little home. My little family. A life that’s messy and chaotic and warm in all the right ways.

I’ve got the twins and their bickering. I’ve got Rin and his quiet, grounding presence.

I’ve got love, just… not the kind I used to dream about.

And honestly?

That feels more than enough.

[shyoko]

Chapter 1: 𝐘'𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄

The Heiress Of Darkness

The morning cold seeped through the seams of your coat, chilling you to the bone even though the sky was clear. You had arrived early at the university and were taking refuge in your notes, rereading paragraphs without really processing them. Your eyes followed the written lines, but your mind… was elsewhere.

Then, the sound of an engine sliced through the air. A police car.

Your body tensed instantly, a shiver running down your spine. You forced your mind to calm down, even though panic was beginning to rise in your chest.

Your thoughts started to drift. “Don’t let them see me. Please, don’t let them see me,” you thought as your eyes followed the officer. The memory of the party rushed back into your mind, fast and cruel. The images flashed through your head as quickly as you tried to shut them down. Anxiety took hold of you, and you wished with all your strength for everything to go unnoticed.

The officer walked confidently toward the entrance, but before going in, his eyes met yours. For a moment, you felt the weight of his gaze, the direct contact that made your breathing grow slightly heavier. However, before your body could react, he turned to give an order to the young man accompanying him.

He was a tall guy, about twenty-five. Attractive, the kind of attractive you can’t help but notice, the kind that makes you want to look at him longer than is appropriate. He smiled at you—a sticky kind of smile that, for some reason, made you want to smile back, despite how uncomfortable you felt in that moment.

Eventually, they disappeared through the entrance, leaving you alone with the echo of their footsteps. The anxiety still churned in your stomach. That’s when you felt a warm hand rest on your shoulder. It was Jake, a good friend from university—not close enough to hang out outside of class, but always there to keep you company.

“Y/n!”—Jake’s voice pulled you out of your head. He approached quickly, brow furrowed, expression more serious than usual—“I was looking for you… Are you okay?”

You blinked, confused by his intensity. Jake rarely showed anything beyond his relaxed demeanor. But today there was something different about him. His eyes shone with a mix of tension and concern.

“What’s going on?” you asked, trying to sound natural.

Jake looked around, as if making sure no one was too close, then lowered his voice.

“I can’t believe what happened…”—he swallowed, visibly shaken—“At the party on Saturday… someone… someone died, Y/n. They found him on the terrace. A guy. I don’t know who discovered him, but it was after midnight. They say it was horrible.”

His words hit like heavy stones. Your stomach twisted.

“A… body?” you repeated, the word barely leaving your lips.

Jake nodded slowly, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah. The police are already here. They’re talking to everyone who was at the party. Asking questions… they want to know who saw him last, if anyone noticed anything weird. They’re not saying it officially, but… you can tell they suspect everyone.”

He was silent for a moment, then looked at you intently.

“You weren’t there, right?”—His voice dropped even lower—“I didn’t see you… but with so many people, I’m not sure.”

“No, I didn’t go,” you answered immediately. Your voice sounded distant. Forced.

Jake nodded, relieved for a second, but his face hardened again.

“I’m glad. Because… damn, Y/n, it was really messed up. I was there, I saw the guy before everything went to hell. He was alive. And a few hours later…”—he broke off, running a hand down his face—“I’ve never been so close to something like this.”

You noticed his breathing quicken. His usual facade was cracking.

“Are you okay?”— you asked, feeling panic creeping into your voice too.

“I don’t know. I haven’t slept. Nobody knows what happened. They don’t know if it was an accident, a fight, something else…”—He brought a hand to his chest, as if trying to steady himself—“Just… be careful, okay? Don’t say anything that could be misunderstood. Even if you weren’t there, you know how rumors are. And if they call you, cooperate, but… be cautious.”

You nodded slowly, unsure if you could trust your own voice. The scene felt more unreal by the second. The world spun too fast.

Jake took a deep breath and tried to offer a half-smile, but it didn’t work. This time, he didn’t even pretend.

“This is going to change everything.”

Class began, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t concentrate. The professor’s words bounced around in your head without leaving a mark. Your whole body was tense, your mind trapped in dark thoughts, memories that made your skin crawl, and emotions you didn’t know where to place.

Then, a sound broke the constant murmur of the classroom: the door opened with a soft creak. Two figures entered. The same officers you had seen that morning. The air seemed to freeze in the room. Eyes locked on them—some curious, others afraid. You simply… stopped breathing.

They started calling students, one by one, calmly, as if nothing strange were happening. But every name they said felt like a countdown speeding up your heartbeat.

Until they called yours.

“Y/n” a deep, firm voice pronounced.

You stood up quickly, trying to seem calm, though your hands trembled as you closed your backpack. You walked toward the door. And then you saw him. Him.

The guy from the car.

His eyes met yours, and for an instant, everything seemed to stop. His face was serene, calm, almost kind, in contrast to the tension you felt. He nodded for you to follow him.

“Have a seat,” he said, pointing to a chair across from his.

You did, trying to control your movements. He settled into his seat, pulled a notebook from the inner pocket of his jacket, and with a soft smile, added:

“Just a few questions, nothing complicated. Answer honestly, okay?”

His voice was firm, but there was a warm tone to it, almost comforting. His uniform fit him perfectly, and although you tried not to look, it was hard not to notice how well it suited him. He had soft features, but with a firm structure. You didn’t know how to describe it, but he made you feel… safe.

“Did you know the victim?”

You shook your head immediately.

“Not personally. I’ve seen him in class, but nothing more. I’m sorry,” you answered softly.

He nodded, taking notes.

“Did you attend the party?”

Again, you shook your head.

“No, I didn’t go. I stayed home.”

“I see,” he said, and for a moment seemed to study you more closely—“Alright, in case you remember anything that could help, or if someone says something strange…”—He pulled out a small piece of paper and handed it to you—“This is my number.”

You reached out to take it, and for a second, your fingers brushed against his. The contact was brief, but enough to send a shiver through your skin. He smiled—one of those smiles that didn’t seem forced, but reassuring.

“Call me for anything. Information, questions, or if you just need to talk to someone who’s not part of all this chaos.”

You hesitated for a second, surprised by the almost personal tone of his offer, and before you could say anything, he added with a half-smile:

“I promise I don’t bite… unless absolutely necessary.”

A nervous laugh escaped your lips. He smiled too, wider now.

“See you, Y/n,” he said finally, with a voice so calm it almost promised everything would be okay.

The bell rang throughout the university, marking the end of classes. Most students hurried out, whispering among themselves—some nervous, others as if nothing had happened. But you didn’t move. You stayed in your seat a few seconds longer, silent, eyes lost somewhere beyond the window.

You slowly gathered your things, carrying that invisible knot in your stomach that hadn’t left you all day. The classroom nearly emptied. You walked down the hallway as if it didn’t belong to you, as if the world felt a bit farther away than usual.

The afternoon cold crept through your coat as you made your way home, but you barely felt it. Your mind was elsewhere. On him.

Evan, or that's what it said on the card with his number.

His eyes had been the first thing. So calm, so… attentive. Not cold, like the other officer’s, nor empty like everyone else’s around you lately. He truly looked at you, as if you were more than just a line in a report.

And his voice. Serious, but not harsh. Almost warm. As if he didn’t want to scare you. As if, in some strange way, he already wanted to protect you.

You slipped a hand into your coat pocket and pulled out the paper he had given you. “In case you remember anything, or need to talk.”

You had read it over and over in your mind. There was no special phrase written on it—just his name—Evan—and his number. But for some reason, just having it made breathing a little easier.

You tucked it away again as if it were something fragile.

You walked the rest of the way with your heart beating strangely. As if something had been lit deep inside you without your realizing it.

When you got home, you let your body collapse onto the soft mattress in your room, allowing everything that troubled you to slowly fade from your mind, just as the tension left your muscles. The warmth of the blanket against your cold body, combined with the silent and calming atmosphere, made it easy to close your eyes and surrender to the kind of rest you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Night had already fallen when you woke up. For some reason, that day had felt different, calmer. A day in which the only sound was the whisper of small animals moving through the dark alleys of the deserted street, until a growl from your stomach broke the stillness, demanding you eat something. You got up and went to the kitchen in search of something to eat. You rummaged through every drawer, but nothing. There was nothing in the fridge either, and the same happened with the pantry.

A big sigh escaped your lips. Why did you have expired yogurts from two months ago in the fridge? Good question, but that didn’t matter now. Still tired, you decided that, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do, it was time to go buy something. It was eight o’clock in the evening, and you had to hurry before it got any later.

You put on something warm and comfortable, and quickly headed to the door. When your hand touched the cold knob, a chill ran down your spine, accompanied by a persistent thought: “Don’t go out.” You ignored it, and before leaving, you grabbed your small purse, where you kept your keys, wallet, and phone.

...

You walked through the deserted streets, where only the shadows of some stray cats watched you curiously. You took the usual path to the store, the one you had walked a thousand times. Once there, you picked up the essentials: food, paper, some cleaning products. Just enough not to feel too loaded.

With two bags in your hands, you left the store and said goodbye to the clerk. The cold had intensified, and a light fog had spread through the streets. You quickened your pace to get home as soon as possible, but after a few steps, you heard a noise behind you.

A tall figure was walking a few meters away, and your heart began to race. A chill ran through your body, not from the cold, but from fear. Your steps quickened, choosing a slightly different route than usual. The figure followed you, and the wind picked up, rustling the leaves of the trees violently.

Without thinking, you ran. You didn’t dare look back, afraid of slowing down. But the heavy footsteps of the man behind you were clearly audible. Your breathing became erratic, and your legs began to ache to the point of giving out. Suddenly, you felt a strong hand grabbing your wrist, pulling you back. A scream of desperation escaped your throat as you struggled to free yourself from his grip. With a strength you never imagined you had, you kicked him in the stomach. A groan of pain escaped his lips, and his grip loosened, giving you the chance to drop the bags and run.

After a few minutes, you saw your house in the distance. The streets were increasingly covered by fog, and the lights in the homes had already gone out, leaving you completely alone in the deserted street, with someone still chasing you. You sped up, pulled the keys from your purse, and upon reaching the entrance, tried to open the door with trembling hands. The door made a faint sound as it opened, but before you could step inside, you felt the same calloused hand that had grabbed you before holding you tightly.

Another scream escaped your lips. "L-LET ME GO!" You struggled with all your strength, fighting to free yourself from his grip, feeling his fingers tightening more and more around your wrist. With a final shove, you managed to get inside the house, but the man’s weight stayed firm, preventing you from closing the door. Desperate, you found yourself wrestling against the door with all your might, but you couldn’t shut it.

The man’s hand pushed harder, and the fear grew with each second. The sound of the wind and the creaking of the door under the struggle filled the air, while you desperately tried to make it give. Panic took hold of you, increasingly aware that if you couldn’t close it, he would be inside again.

Then, with superhuman effort, you stopped fighting the door and ran toward the living room, knowing it was your only chance. He followed you quickly, his steps pounding with fury as he approached aggressively. You turned, fear taking over your body, and before he could reach you, you grabbed the vase from the table. Its weight in your hands felt heavy, but you didn’t care. With a swift motion, you threw it with all the strength you could muster at his head.

The impact was brutal, and a dull sound filled the room as the vase struck him. The ceramic smashed against his face, leaving a mark of fresh blood. The man staggered, falling to the ground with a groan of pain.

Blood began to gush strongly, splattering the living room floor. Your body, trembling and overwhelmed, stopped functioning clearly. Your legs gave out, and you collapsed to the floor as tears began to stream from your eyes. Had you just killed him? What were you going to do now? Would they accuse you of murder?

The questions didn’t stop, but none could change the fact that there was a lifeless body in your house—and you were the one who killed him. Suddenly, your heart skipped a beat, and a small spark of hope ignited inside you. You ran to the bedroom, desperately searching through your backpack. There were books, a laptop, your pencil case, and… there it was, Evan’s number—the police officer from that morning.

Maybe it was crazy and you’d end up in jail for murder, but he was the only person who had shown any concern for you. You knew maybe he had only done it out of courtesy, but something deep inside you had made you feel safe when he was around. His protective gaze, his soft voice whispering that he’d take care of you, the gentleness of his fingers when you took the paper with his number… all of that made you feel safe.

You grabbed the paper, dialed his number with trembling fingers, barely able to see the screen through the tears blurring your vision. You pressed the phone to your ear, your ragged breathing betraying the panic you felt.

"Hello?" —Evan answered naturally, as if he were taking any routine call. But it only took a second.

“E-Evan…” —you stammered between sobs, your voice broken and barely audible.

The pause on the other end was brief, but it completely changed the tone of his voice.

"Y/n… what happened? Are you okay?"

“No… I’m not… Something horrible happened… Please, I need you to come, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do…” —your voice shattered into a thousand pieces.

"Calm down. I’m on my way. Don’t move, okay? I’ll be there in a few minutes."

He hung up without waiting for a reply.

You didn’t know exactly how much time had passed. It could’ve been ten minutes or thirty. Time didn’t exist. Only the weight of the body on the floor, the blood spilled near your rug, and you, trembling by the wall, knees to your chest and the phone still in your hand.

A few firm knocks on the door pulled you out of your trance.

You went to open it with trembling hands and red eyes. Evan was there. His face, usually relaxed and warm, now showed a mix of alertness, concern, and something harder to decipher.

Seeing the state you were in, he didn’t ask questions. He stepped inside quickly, looked around, and then saw the body.

He turned to you and took a step forward. “Are you hurt?” You shook your head, but the tears kept streaming down your face. You threw yourself at him, speaking in broken, senseless fragments. “He followed me from the store… came in… I couldn’t close the door… I fought him… I didn’t want to kill him… I just wanted… wanted him to go away… I didn’t know what to do… I—” “Y/n,” —he interrupted gently, gripping your arms firmly— “Breathe. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you, okay?”

Without thinking, he hugged you. His arm wrapped around you tightly, and for the first time that day, you felt like you could let your guard down. You rested your forehead on his shoulder and let the tears fall.

“We’re going to figure this out. You’re not alone. I’ve got this.”

You stayed like that for a few seconds. When you finally pulled away, your face still wet and your heart racing.

“Thank you…” —you whispered.

He nodded seriously, already turning his attention to the body. His expression hardened again as he crouched to observe it without touching anything. “Now we’re going to call my colleagues. But don’t worry, I’ll be with you the whole time.”

And so, amid the blood, fear, and adrenaline, something inside you clung to the warmth of his presence.

Not long after Evan radioed in, two patrols arrived. The officers entered the apartment with measured steps, serious faces, and routines carved by protocol. Tape, photographs, gloves. The body was removed, wrapped in a white sheet, and the apartment was left filled with low voices, footsteps, and forensic camera flashes.

You remained sitting on a corner of the couch, a blanket over your shoulders that Evan had found nearby. Your fingers toyed with the edge as if that fabric was the only thing anchoring you to the present.

One of the officers approached Evan, glancing at you. “Can we?” —he asked quietly. Evan looked at you and shook his head, firmly. “No. I’ve got this. She’s in shock.” The other nodded, no argument. They trusted him.

One by one, the officers finished and left, the apartment a little emptier, though no less heavy. When the door closed and silence returned, you realized how late it was.

You looked at the microwave clock. 11:04 PM.

“Have you eaten anything today?” —Evan asked, turning to you as he picked up some of the mess in the room. You shook your head faintly. “I’m not really hungry after all this…” —you whispered. He let out a soft but steady sigh. “Me neither, but it’s important that you eat something. It’ll help, even if it’s just a little.” “I don’t think I could swallow anything right now.” “Then we’ll eat together. Something quick. I’ll make you if I have to.” —he tried to lighten the moment with a smile that barely curved his lips— “Come on. I can make some decent scrambled eggs.”

You cooked in silence, side by side. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but a heavy one. You tried to appear calm, but inside, your thoughts raced.

Why had that man come? How did he find you? Was he really connected to… to that?

A knot formed in your stomach, not just from what had happened, but from the fear that everything was starting to fall apart.

What if Evan knew? What if he suspected something?

But his face showed nothing but calm and focus. His gaze told you everything: “You’re safe.”

You sat across from each other, both with simple plates, barely hungry but pretending it was normal. “Do you remember exactly what he said before attacking you?” —he asked softly, not pressing. You hesitated a moment before answering, your fork spinning in your fingers. “No… he just… followed me from the store. He didn’t say anything. Just… tried to get in. I tried to shut the door, but he was faster…” Evan nodded, not taking notes or recording you. He just listened. He trusted you. “You did what you had to do. It wasn’t your fault, Y/n.” You nodded slightly, though inside you knew it wasn’t that simple. You couldn’t tell him the truth. Not yet. You couldn’t tell him that part of you did know why that man had come after you.

But he didn’t know. Or so you wanted to believe.

All you could do now was stay calm… and wait.

The sound of the fork against the plate was the only thing filling the silence in the kitchen. You ate without much appetite, moving slowly, your thoughts coming and going like gusts of wind. Evan, however, seemed to have all the time in the world. He sat across from you, elbows on the table, a calm expression on his face. “You know you’re not allowed to leave the edges of the omelet on the plate, right?” —he said with a faint smile, tilting his head. You looked at him with a mix of exhaustion and confusion. “I’m not hungry…” “I know.” —he replied softly— “Me neither. But if we faint from weakness, we’ll look terrible in the investigation photos. Trust me, it’s not a good look.” You let out a low laugh, somewhere between exhaustion and surprise. It was a dumb joke… but a necessary one. He noticed it, and his smile grew a little more. “There it is. First smile of the night. If I get one more, I get a promotion.” “Is that how promotions work in the police?” —you asked, glancing at him. “Of course. Whoever makes traumatized victims smile the most gets a medal. And a free pizza. State-sponsored.” You shook your head, but something in your chest loosened. Evan’s presence had that strange ability to ease your burdens without you noticing. “Do you feel a little better?” “A little.” —you admitted quietly— “It still all feels… surreal.” “It is.” —he said sincerely, lowering his gaze for a moment— “But you survive the surreal too. And you’re doing well. Really well.” You looked back at the plate. You hesitated a few seconds… and finally took another bite. You felt him glance at you subtly, but he didn’t say anything.

After a while, while he set his cup down on the counter, you gathered your courage and asked: “Hey… how did you know where I live?” He turned, as if he had expected the question. He stepped closer again with a smile you weren’t sure was reassuring or unsettling. “Are you asking if I’m a professional stalker or just one with a police badge?” You shot him a look. “That’s not funny.” “I know, I know.” —he raised his hands— “I’ve got my methods. I guess I… wanted to make sure you were okay. And also, well… I’m a cop. Even if I’m not always the most by-the-book one, I promise tonight I used my powers for good.” You pursed your lips, still slightly frowning. But you said nothing more. He noticed you were withdrawing again and quickly changed his tone. “Hey, if it makes you uncomfortable that I show up like Batman in the night, I get it. I can make it up to you by cooking better next time. Do you like decent ramen or are you more of a frozen pizza kind of person?” “Are you… inviting me to dinner again?” “No. I’m warning you that if you don’t eat, I’m going to keep showing up with food until you chase me away with a broom. That’s an official threat.” Another smile. Lighter this time. More sincere. “Thank you.” —you finally said. “Don’t thank me just yet.” —he muttered as he slipped on his jacket— “You still have to survive the police interview I’m going to give you tomorrow with instant coffee and annoying questions. Get ready mentally.”

Just as Evan was putting on his jacket, something fell from his pocket and slid across the floor. A soft thud, barely noticeable, but it instantly caught your attention. You reached down to pick it up on instinct. It was an old ID card, with slightly worn edges. You turned it instinctively, but just as you were about to focus on the image, a warm hand gently wrapped around your wrist. “Give me that, please.” —Evan murmured, his voice lower, almost like it pained him to speak. You stopped. He took the card delicately before you could really see it. You only caught one name. Lee Heeseung. “Who is he?” —you asked quietly, your heart pounding. He put the card away silently, in the inner pocket of his jacket. He didn’t seem angry, but neither was he relaxed. His eyes, for a moment, lost their warmth. “Someone who… is no longer with us.” —he finally said, looking at you with a strange seriousness.

You didn’t know what to say. You just nodded very softly, though you couldn’t get that name out of your head. Then he stepped toward you, and his tone softened again. “Seriously, try to get some rest tonight. If you can’t sleep, call me, okay?” You could only nod again. Your mind was elsewhere. “See you, Y/n.” —he said at last, with a half-smile, before closing the door behind him.

Silence filled your apartment again. You stared at the door for a long time, unmoving, while a sharp feeling pierced your chest.

Lee Heeseung. Who was he? Why did he have that card? And why did something inside you say it wasn’t the first time you’d heard that name?

You felt like you knew him. Like there was more to it. And you knew you wouldn’t rest until you found out.

You stood still for a while behind the closed door, as if your mind needed time to process everything. “Lee Heeseung”… that name kept echoing in your head like an ancient memory you didn’t know the origin of, but it made your stomach twist.

You walked slowly to your room, sat in front of your desk, and turned on the laptop. You hesitated for a moment, but curiosity burned inside you. You opened the browser and started typing.

“Lee Heeseung.”

At first, nothing. Just outdated social media, empty profiles, scattered mentions without context. You kept searching. You put the name in quotes, added words like deceased, news, accident...

And then you saw it.

A headline. “Young man named Lee Heeseung found dead in his apartment. Authorities have yet to determine the cause.”

The date was just two months ago.

The news article was barely a couple of paragraphs. No photos. No explanations. Just one final line. “The case remains open, though without progress.”

You shut the laptop, not wanting to think about it any longer. You took a deep breath. You needed sleep.

But sleeping… wasn’t easy.

The moment you closed your eyes, memories began to seep in like smoke under a poorly shut door. A black car parked outside your old house. Shadows moving where they shouldn’t. A sinister face behind a window. A hand reaching for you through a crowd. The sound of heavy breathing behind you on an empty street. A scream you didn’t let out. A door shut just in time. Another one that wasn’t.

You woke with a start. Cold sweat running down your back. You looked at the clock: 3:17 AM. You hugged your knees to your chest.

It wasn’t the first time this happened. It wasn’t the first attempt. It wasn’t the first threat disguised as an accident. You knew it.

He wanted to find you.

You squeezed your eyes shut. Tried not to think about the blood, the blow, the body hitting the floor.

The alarm went off, but you were already awake. You didn’t remember sleeping, at least not really. Your eyes felt swollen, your head heavy like you were underwater, and the unease didn’t go away—it stayed, hidden but constant. The cold clung to you, even though the sun was already starting to peek in timidly.

You got out of bed with slow, almost automatic movements, as if something invisible weighed on your chest. It was that feeling of being trapped, of not being able to escape. Every step took more effort, but you kept going.

You showered without really feeling the water. The fatigue lingered in your bones, like you had been running for days without rest. You got dressed in whatever you found first, not caring to choose, just wanting to cover yourself. You didn’t want to think about anything. You just wanted the day to go by quickly.

With your headphones on, you tried to get lost in music, but soon realized you couldn’t hear anything. You just couldn’t. The heaviness stayed with you. It was like a shadow stalking you at every step, and no matter how many times you turned around, there was nothing there—just the cold morning wind brushing against your skin.

People surrounded you, laughing, talking, as if everything was normal, but you felt like you didn’t belong to that world. It was as if you were watching life from the outside. As if everything was out of focus, yet you knew you couldn’t escape that feeling of being trapped.

You reached the university without knowing how. You hadn’t noticed the walk, just moved forward like an automaton, passing among students who glanced at you out of the corner of their eyes, unaware of what was really happening inside you. Did they notice? Could they see it?

When you entered the classroom, the usual noise greeted you, but none of it made sense. It was all meaningless noise.

The rustling of paper, murmurs, footsteps on the floor—all of it felt distant, far away. Like it was part of a scene in a movie where you didn’t belong.

Your eyes searched for Jake. He was there, with his usual smile, chatting with others. He seemed unaware of what was going on in your mind. But he saw you, and his gaze paused on you, slightly puzzled.

The pain in your chest didn’t go away, but you kept it hidden, like you always had. You didn’t want anyone to notice. No one should know what you were really feeling.

All you could do was keep going.

You sat at your usual desk, your gaze lost on the board while the professor’s words barely reached your mind. Everything seemed so far away, as if nothing in the class really mattered. The noise of voices around you slowly faded, and all that remained was the weight in your chest you couldn’t ignore. The fear was still there, lurking, though you didn’t know exactly why.

Jake approached you, gently touching your shoulder. You turned to him, and without meaning to, managed a smile. You knew he was worried about you.

"Are you okay?" he asked, noticing your distraction.

You nodded automatically, without words, as if everything was under control. But it wasn’t. You couldn’t explain what you really felt. You couldn’t explain why you felt so... strange, why the air was heavy, and why you had that sense of being watched.

Jake, as always, tried to chat a little, but the conversation passed without you really engaging in it. It was clear you weren’t really there. Your mind was still trapped in something you couldn’t get out of your head.

Class ended, and as you left, you felt a brief moment of relief. But at the same time, a growing discomfort. The fear kept creeping into your thoughts, like someone was waiting around every corner. The quick pace you took when exiting the classroom was almost automatic, as if something was pushing you to get out of there fast.

The cold air hit you the moment you stepped outside. It surrounded you, but at the same time made you feel more alive. Still, you couldn’t help but glance over your shoulder from time to time. There was no one, but the unease lingered. You felt something was wrong, that something was following you, though you couldn’t put a face to it.

When you got to your apartment, you couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. Finally. You were home, where you could at least feel safe. Or so you thought.

You closed the door behind you, and for a moment, stood still. The air no longer felt as heavy, but the weight on your chest didn’t go away. Something was still circling in your mind, and though you tried to push it aside, you knew you couldn’t ignore it. Something wasn’t right, and the thought wouldn’t leave.

You shook off the fear with a sigh, but the knot in your stomach remained. What was it that you couldn’t see?

You walked to your room. Sat on the bed, breathing deeply, phone in your sweaty hands. Anxiety filled you, but you knew you couldn’t keep hiding everything. You needed to talk. Someone had to hear you, even just for a moment. And you knew it, even if you didn’t say it aloud: Evan was the one you had to go to.

The phone rang once, twice… until finally his voice came through, clear and calm. "Y/n." He said your name with a tone that gave you a bit of peace, as if he’d been expecting your call.

"Evan," you began, taking a deep breath, "I know what’s happening… and I know why they’re after me. It’s not the first time… I’ve been in this situation before." Your voice trembled a little, but you said it. Even if you weren’t revealing everything, what you felt was real. You knew what was happening, even if you weren’t ready to share it all yet.

There was a pause on the other end. He seemed to be processing what you had just said. "Y/n," he replied afterward, with a calmness that surprised you, "I promise you’re not alone in this. We’ll figure it out, but we need to talk in person."

You felt relieved, even though the fear was still there, waiting to be uncovered. You didn’t want to talk about everything on the phone. Not yet. "I need to see you," you insisted. "I’ll tell you everything, but not over the phone. I can’t explain all this like that." "I completely understand," he said without hesitation. "Four o’clock? You can come to my apartment. We can talk there, no pressure."

You knew he had picked up on what you were trying to say, and his response made you feel a bit calmer. "Thank you," you said, relieved that you didn’t have to keep hiding so much of what you were feeling. "See you at four." "Alright… thanks," you murmured. "See you then."

For a second, you thought the conversation would end there, but his voice came again, this time with a much lighter tone, almost playful: "Oh, and be prepared. I got promoted this week, so the new work suit is way sexier than the old one. I don’t want to distract you too much while you talk."

Almost involuntarily, you let out a small laugh under your breath. It was silly. A dumb comment, probably meaningless, but in the middle of everything you were carrying… it felt like a small breath of air. "See you at four," you said, still with a half-hidden smile.

You hung up. And for the first time in days, the loneliness didn’t feel so dark.

You ate without appetite, the weight of each bite becoming harder to swallow. The fear was still there, and although you tried to distract yourself, you couldn’t. You decided to get up, grab what you needed, and head to Evan’s house.

The walk was long, and each step felt heavier. The sensation of being watched didn’t go away. When you arrived at his house, the fear took over again. Without thinking too much, you rang the doorbell. The door opened almost immediately, and there he was.

Evan was wearing his new police uniform, and although the uniform was typical, it looked incredibly good on him. The fitted jacket accentuated his figure, showing the line of his shoulders and torso. The pants, perfectly tailored, only emphasized his height and presence even more. His hair was a little more disheveled than usual, but it made him look even more attractive, almost as if he had spent the whole afternoon working.

“Y/n?” —his voice, deep yet warm, made you feel like you weren’t alone. Before you could respond, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you. The hug was brief but comforting, something about him calmed you.

“It’s okay,” —he said, as if everything you had been holding in was evident. “I’m here, calm down.” You felt fragile, but his embrace gave you some peace. When he pulled away, he looked at you expectantly, as if waiting for you to say something more.

“How do you feel?”

The fear was still there, but in that moment, being with him made it feel like everything would be more bearable. You entered Evan’s house, feeling the tension build in your chest. Even though the place was cozy, nothing could fully calm the unease that invaded you. The air smelled of coffee and something warmer, a scent that seemed to try to soothe you. Evan appeared from the kitchen with a kind smile, but he quickly noticed that you weren’t comfortable.

“Everything okay?” —he asked while offering you a steaming cup of tea that looked soothing.

“Relax, Y/n. You’re in a safe place.” You appreciated his gesture and took a sip of the tea. Although the warmth of the drink helped a little, your mind kept racing with everything that had happened. You couldn’t stay silent any longer, not after everything you had been through. You had to tell him what was really going on. But you didn’t know how to do it, or even where to begin.

“Evan…” —you started, trying to find the right words. “There’s something I need to tell you. I don’t know where to start, but I have to do it.”

He looked at you, his expression serious but calm. “Don’t rush, Y/n. Speak when you’re ready. There’s no hurry.”

That calmed you a little, and although the knot in your throat didn’t disappear, you felt that at least you were in a place where you could be heard. But then something caught your attention.

When Evan stood up to go to the kitchen, something shimmered on the table. It was a brief flash, but enough for you to notice. You got up and walked over to the table. There, almost hidden among some papers, was something you hadn’t seen before.

An ID card. Your pulse quickened as you recognized it. The logo. The organization. The mafia. It was the same one that had been behind everything that had happened to you. The same one that had tried to kill you several times. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Was Evan involved in this? You quickly put it away, but the sound of Evan’s footsteps approaching made you turn, and his eyes locked onto you instantly.

“What are you doing?” —he said, with a note of surprise that quickly turned into something more serious.

“Nothing.” —you said, your voice trembling. Your heart was racing, and your hands were shaking slightly. You tried to hide the card, but it was too late.

He took a step toward you, approaching slowly but decisively. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to snoop around other people’s homes?” —he asked, but his tone was no longer friendly. The joke was gone, and in his gaze, there was something darker.

“Evan…” —you began to say, but he cut you off.

“You’re so naïve, Y/n.” —his words pierced you, and you noticed how his voice had lost its previous softness. Now there was a coldness that you hadn’t noticed until that moment.

You tried to take a step back, but you couldn’t. “This isn’t what it looks like…”

“Do you really believe that?” —he interrupted you, stepping closer.

“You can’t run from who you are.” You tensed up. He was so close that you could feel his presence like a threat.

“Evan, please… let me explain.”

At that moment, he moved faster than you could react. Before you could stop him, he held you and whispered in your ear, “You think you’re so smart, but you still don’t understand anything.”

Suddenly, you felt a strong dizziness, as if your strength was leaving you. Everything around you began to spin, and although you tried to pull away, your legs failed.

“What… did you do to me?” —you managed to say in a whisper. Reality faded before your eyes, and the last thing you could see before losing consciousness was his face, now completely serious, and his barely audible words: “Sleep, Y/n. It’s the best thing you can do right now.”

You passed out in his arms, knowing, deep down, that you had been kidnapped. But there was something else, something that lingered in your mind as everything faded:

That’s why he knew your name so perfectly. That’s why he recognized your voice so well. That’s why he knew where you lived… He always knew who you were.

And this is just the beginning of what’s to come, this has only just started…

A/N: I know it hasn’t been very long and that many questions might arise, but in the upcoming chapters, you’ll begin to understand that this is just the beginning of the chaos, the hatred, and everything that’s about to unfold.

I'm sure you're going to love what's coming in the next chapter. I can't wait to finish it and for you to read it. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Love you!

✦Investigative Team (Taglist - open): @wonnielov3 @yeonmuse @usuallyunlikelyfox @rustymoons @firstclassjaylee @isagistar @tunafishyfishylike @niyzu @imzhouxinyu

✦ Regular Taglist : @lezleeferguson-120 @nuki-riki @ijustwannareadstuff20 @vvenusoncasual @miellette @enhacolor @xxkatsusjinsux @somieverse @ourshin @han-to-my-minho @douqhnxtss @nuggets4lifers @mitmit01

© 2025 @shyoko. All rights reserved

[theunholyvirginemilyprentiss]

In the case of Canon vs. Jemily, I submit to the court:

A GAY JEMILY ESSAY WITH SUPPORTING GIFs BECAUSE I’M UNHINGED —>

Holy SHIT, I did not realise just how SUS early seasons Jemily were?!? When I first watched the show in 2015 I was 12. I didn’t know I was gay yet and wasn’t watching the show through that lens. Rewatching now, the way JJ behaves around Emily and Will and the way she talks about homosexuality is INSANE, especially in episodes 3x16 and 3x17. Take a seat, I’mma break it down.

Will and JJ’s chemistry was pretty… flat. JJ barely seemed interested. Will himself said JJ had “one foot out the door of this relationship.”

Their interactions are SO uncomfortable. JJ refuses to tell her team about their relationship, and I noticed that when they meet again on the case in 3x16, JJ makes a point to look at Emily when she clarifies that their relationship is purely ‘professional.’

I mean come on, Emily seems to find Will more appealing than JJ:

JJ doesn’t even want him to touch her, it actually pisses her off even though, as Will points out, they’re at the crime scene of his murdered friend and he obviously isn’t going to use this moment to make a move.

This case is about gay victims, and JJ seems to relate to it so strongly. What really made me go ‘damn,’ is that right after JJ admits that she wants to break up with Will:

IMMEDIATELY after this conversation, JJ goes inside to talk to Hotch suddenly having an epiphany about the case, SPECIFICALLY how the victims felt. She says to Hotch, while on the verge of tears:

JJ: You said in the profile the UnSub was targeting gay males, possibly due to his struggles with his own sexuality, right?

HOTCH: Right.

JJ: Well, what if the reason Luvet let his guard down is because he could finally… be who he is? No judgements, no fear. *She zones out for a few seconds.* What if the UnSub is seeing a freedom in his victims that… he wishes he had himself?

COME ON. That is an INSANE epiphany to have 2 minutes after practically breaking up with your boyfriend.

But wait, I’m not done. Because we’ve all seen that GIF set a hundred times at the end of this episode where Emily says to JJ “you should go for him,” and then Emily IMMEDIATELY regrets it and walks off:

It’s almost like JJ needed Emily’s permission to be with Will. Like she was subconsciously holding out for Emily and her saying ‘you should go for him’ cemented in her head that her and Emily couldn’t happen. Working a case where the UnSub and the victims were being punished for being gay, it really feels like JJ eventually went with Will because she felt like she was supposed to, not because she was in love with him.

The excuse she gave to Will for why she didn’t want to reveal their relationship felt so weak as well, that ‘if people know then it becomes too real and people get hurt.’ Like, miss girl, that excuse is weaker than a nun’s piss, come on now.

In 3x17 one of the first scenes is in JJ’s office. She has chosen Emily to confide in about a stalking case, coming to her before anyone else on the team—weird, since Emily has only been on the team for a year, and Morgan literally specialises in obsessional crimes. Those two are together the whole episode, but it is the cliffhanger that was crazy.

The episode ends with Emily of course in JJ’s office, making sure she’s okay. JJ watches Emily leave her office sullenly, and then retreives a doctor’s note from her desk once she’s gone. She calls Will, and reveals she’s pregnant. And she does not seem all that happy about it. It gives the impression of this being the final nail in the coffin—she’s stuck in this relationship now, and she knows it. Emily has walked away, and she’s left with Will. I had to cut out a 10 second long longing stare from the GIF below because the file size was too big 💀

Upon rewatching, it really feels like JJ got cornered into this relationship with Will. Rewatch those two episodes and you’ll see what I mean. It’s just… so weird.

The defence rests.

[outtamynoggin]

Love your dick incorrect quotes 😭💞💞I feel so happy reading them btw how doo u think the batfam would react to seeing alot of pictures of dick in the Wayne mannor (b had this big ass painting of dick in the middle in the hq show and in an old comic there was a wall sized portrait of those two XD

Thank you so much!!

Batman #13

This one right? There's a few others too!

Is this the one about the HQ? From the Harley Quinn show. oh wait hq stands for Harley Quinn 🤣🤣🔫

Either way, I love how Dick Bruce's obsession with Dick is just so constant across media and across decades. DC is literally honing in on him being favorite.

The show is literally unhinged:

Bruce, what? Can you say it in any other words???

Actually in the show, Damian sees the one when they're all dining because he's gaming on the couch and he's so chill about it. Like he just expects it.

Damian: Of course, there's a photo of Richard on the wall. He is the favorite. It is only right that father commissioned a Renaissance-scale shrine for him.

Meanwhile Jason is like: What am I, chopped liver?

While Tim's like: You're actually more like burnt liver.

Tim: *ducks as a whole friggin couch goes sailing over his head. Stands up smirking only to get tackled by a hulking mass of undead muscle*

Damian: At least Todd has a picture on the wall.

Tim: *Pool noodling his way out of Jason's grasp* That's cause he thought both of them were dead which is why he has the pictures up. Only Dick's is the size of a cathedral alter like Bruce commissioned it from the Vatican which he then framed in solid gold. You don’t hang something like that unless you expect people to pray to it. Jason's got shoved into a tiny corner at the bottom.

Jason: *throwing his hands up* CAN I WIN JUST ONCE IN THIS HOUSE?!

Tim: Are you Dick?

Damian: *smirking* No.

Tim: Then no.

Jason: You little twerps. I'm gonna string you two up and throw you out the batplane.

Stephanie: *walking in* Who's throwing who out of a batplane?

Tim: *scoffing* Jason's throwing me and batbrat out of the batplane.

Stephanie: Oooh! Sounds fun, can I join?! I'll bring the ropes!

Tim: You're not even going to ask why???!

Stephanie: *deadpan* Tim. I don't need a reason to throw you out of the batplane.

Tim: *Offended*

Jason: *Laughing and high-fiving her* God you get me.

Stephanie: But for curiosity's sake-

Damian: For the sake of curiosity-

Stephanie: -Why?

Damian: Todd is emotionally compromised over Father's unrelenting favoritism toward Richard.

Stephanie: Oh. Well, duh. Everyone likes Dick more.

Tim: Facts.

Stephanie: That's Batfam Lore™. What brought it on this time though?

Tim: We were talking about the massive picture Bruce has in the dining room. 

Stephanie: Oh my fudge cake gods. That Picture! Do you know how hard it is to eat even a cheese stick while being stared down by a thirty-foot tall Dick Grayson?! Like, what is wrong with Bruce! I’m pretty sure the reason Dick doesn’t visit the manor anymore is because he’s too weirded out by a bigger version own self staring at him. 

Jason: THANK YOU. Someone with a decent sense of propriety. And why the hell is it life-sized?

Stephanie: Barbara loves it, though. She thinks it's hot. Calls it "Big Dick Energy: Collector’s Edition." But she and Bruce are weird about him.

Tim: *muttering* I think it’s nice.

*Silence.*

Stephanie, Jason, and Damian: *Collectively side-eyeing him*

Stephanie: Right.... You were always weird about him too.

Tim: Wha- I was perfectly normal!

Damian: Drake. You once stood in front of the living room one for six hours straight.

Jason: Ye- six hours? Really?

Damian: He did not eat. He did not move. Father thought he was stuck in a time loop.

Jason: *Turning a disbelieving gaze on Tim* Dude....

Tim: *Flushing* I was just… observing! Deep observation! For art appreciation!

Stephanie: It’s not the fucking Louvre, Tim. That picture has been there through 7 kids and it's going to be there for at least 7 kids. But really, does Bruce have to have so many pictures of Dick?

Jason: *Rolling his eyes* Tell me about it. Don't forget the life-sized one in the library. I went in to read and accidentally ended up having a staring contest with a 2D Dick. Lost both my dignity and the will to finish my book.

Jason: *Gesturing wildly* You can’t eat in peace, can’t read in peace—hell, I tried to take a nap on the couch once and woke up face-to-face with a mantlepiece-sized Dick smile. I thought I died and went to Grayson Heaven.

Damian: Also the framed photos of him littering Father's study so he can stare at them while he works. I'm inundated with his visage every few rooms.

Stephanie: I bet even Alfred’s like, "Sir, perhaps a fourth room of paintings is excessive."

Tim: He’d never say that. Alfred’s part of the cult.

Damian: *Nodding* Pennyworth once wiped dust off the frame and whispered, "Good as new, Master Richard."

Jason: *voice cracking* Okay, you know what? I can’t do this anymore. I’m moving to Crime Alley. At least there, there’s no Dick—

Stephanie: There’s literally a Nightwing mural spray-painted across an entire wall with the word "Hope" like Gotham’s Beyoncé.

Jason: *crying* Fuck. Exactly. EVEN THERE I CAN'T ESCAPE HIM.

Damian: *judging him* This is a personal failing.

Jason: *frothing at the mouth* No, you would think that, wouldn't you? You’re the last person who should talk! You get all misty-eyed and say "We were the best, Grayson" every time Dick breathes near you!

Damian: *smirking* That is because it’s true.

Jason: *Collapsing on the coach and trying to avoid looking at the framed picture Dick on the side table* ....I can't believe I'm saying this... but thank you for being the normal one, Steph.

Stephanie: *Laughing nervously* Uh, yeah. Sure! No problem!

Tim: *Rolling his eyes* You're thanking the wrong girl. She-

Stephanie: *Wacking him unconscious hurriedly* SO! Who wants waffles!!

[secretgardensinmymindd13]

do you think the writers have written buddie the way they are intentionally or not? ive been going crazy about this bc if its intentional it would feel mean for them to not go canon and if its unintentional then its just kind of an insanely unbelievable amount of "which could mean nothing" thats kind of hilarious. i would love to know your thoughts on this

i had to gather all my brain power to write the answer to your question, so buckle up

and i’m gonna mention all the previous seasons because i think it plays a huge role when you compare season 8 to them

i think they were definitely written as just best friends/comrades in seasons 2 and 3, and i’m including the “eddie begins” episode, because the way buck digs through dirt and screams eddie’s name - and the fact that buck is in a lot of eddie’s visions when he’s underwater - still felt platonic to the writers. and as much as we love to talk about how eddie kind of replaced his wife with buck as proof for buddie, it can still read as both platonic and romantic. like, you can see it as romantic, but it’s not the strongest argument

also, the weird tension in the gym in 2x01 was played as “rivalry” and “jealousy” from buck’s side and “amusement” from eddie’s side. i don’t think ryan and oliver were trying to make it sexual, but it came out that way anyway because of their chemistry. and this type of chemistry doesn’t mean the actors are dating or even attracted to each other irl. it just happens sometimes between two people, and it’s not their fault :D

“you wanna go for the title?” kitchen scene still confuses me though, because if the same exact thing - with the same angles, dialogue, and acting - happened between a male and female character, everyone with eyes would assume it was leading to them kissing and ending up in bed. so i still have no idea why it had to be so weirdly sexual if they didn’t want people to see it that way

but season 4 is where things get weird, because i consider it the buddiest season of all. despite ana and taylor being there, buck and eddie feel way more like a romantic couple with their interactions. like, they’re so weirdly flirty with each other. and i also only recently found out that apparently ryan and oliver were in some kind of fight and weren’t on speaking terms during s4, which puzzles me so much, because this season has the most heart eyes and tension between them. maybe it’s because they were like, “okay, we need to stay professional and continue playing these characters as besties,” and they kind of overdid it. but idk if those rumors are even true. the whole ana panic attack situation can be explained by eddie’s grief over shannon (which is silly on the writers’ part), but it still reads as gay-coded at the same time. so again - it wasn’t intentional, but it leaves room for different interpretations

the way they parallel eddie’s NDE in the s4 finale with bathena’s talk about how losing someone you love is such an unimaginable concept, how they focus on buck and eddie’s faces when eddie wakes up in the hospital instead of ana, the will speech after bucktaylor’s kiss, the way they focus on buck’s smile at eddie’s “welcome home” party - it feels like they were kind of playing with their dynamic in a slightly different way. still, they probably didn’t think of them as romantic. but again, if the same things were written between opposite-sex characters, they’d totally understand why it does feel romantic. or maybe it was intentional, but they had to play by the network’s rules (and fox didn’t want buddie to happen)

then we move to seasons 5 and 6, where they went back to totally platonic again. even though they’re still very domestic, and eddie’s reaction to buck’s NDE was very similar to his reaction to shannon’s death, and the way eddie was looking at buck at poker night - which could be seen as not platonic - i just know the writers toned down the buddiness because they added lucy, natalia, and marisol, even though those relationships felt flat. and the whole eddie-trying-to-find-a-relationship arc was painful to watch. but since fox shut down buck’s bisexual arc and another writer that saw buddie as completely platonic was working on these seasons (i don’t remember her name), they just tried to stay away from buddie

and then came season 7, where everything shifted

the copy-paste parallels between 7x01 and 2x01 - it’s like they rewatched that episode and decided to recreate those scenes. and buck - the main character in his 30s - finally being allowed to be queer because the network approved it is what changes the game

another thing i found out recently is that tim not only wanted to make tommy eddie’s love interest at first, but also bring lucy back as buck’s love interest, because he “still couldn’t find a good romantic partner for buck” (meanwhile eddie is right there 🙄), so he was like, “maybe that’s it”

but some things didn’t work out with both of those ideas (lucy’s actress was unavailable and tim changed his mind about tommy and eddie), so they went a different route and made tommy buck’s love interest, and the queerness realization arc was given to buck instead

and i’m glad it happened that way, because buck finding out his bisexuality first makes more sense for his character, considering his background and personality. it’s easier for him

and i genuinely think the best way for eddie to discover his queerness is through his feelings for buck, ‘cause with his religious heteronormative upbringing, it fits him better

so s7 was supposed to be about exploring eddie’s sexuality, but i guess since tim changed his mind (which, again, i’m glad he did, ’cause it made sense for buck to discover his attraction to men first), he decided to throw in kim’s storyline to get rid of marisol and make eddie lose chris - which opened up his s8 arc. and because he loves “vertigo”

idk, just the fact that tim was considering making eddie attracted to men already means he wanted to make buddie canon. ’cause if he wanted to leave their relationship as platonic, he could’ve focused on eddie’s “straightness” and his relationships with women more. but instead, he brought up eddie’s catholic guilt and the bobby and eddie dialogue about commitment in s7. and then the whole priest talk about beards, disguises, failures, forgiveness, and joy. and that same episode had a throwback to “eddie begins” with the well emergency and bobby saying, “i don’t think you’re gonna fit this time,” and ended with buck coming to eddie right after eddie’s joy dance. which maybe could be coincidental, but idk how stupid you have to be as a writer to not realize how weird all those lines and scenes look together. and the episode is literally called “confessions” (“i’m not your last” is also a confession in its own way)

and the whole buck-tommy-eddie triangle is the biggest buddie proof for me, ’cause it was always about buck’s feelings for eddie and tommy knowing that as long as buck and eddie are together, he’s just a third wheel. otherwise the way he breaks up with buck doesn’t make any sense

also, tim admitted in interviews that buck and eddie’s characters don’t work without each other and that the show gets worse without their connection - and that they sound more like an old married couple going through a breakup than just best friends parting ways in 8x09-8x10

also, ryan guzman said in an interview that he watches buddie edits with oliver, understands why fans ship them, and is open to the idea - but if buddie were to happen, he still wants it to stay true to his character. which i get and agree with

but i also think this is exactly what they were doing

’cause again, the right way for eddie to discover his queerness is not through dating some random dude (which works in buck’s case), but through how he feels about buck

also, eddie’s reaction to buck coming out to him and saying he wants to date tommy - and also to buck and tommy’s hug at the bachelor’s party and their kiss at the hospital - is really weird. idk, it seemed like heartbreak and jealousy mixed with confusion to me (‘cause eddie doesn’t understand why he’s feeling so weird at this point, and some acting choices from ryan were definitely made)

and even though gay!eddie wasn’t planned until season 7, and the way he acted weird with women - including shannon - was supposedly because they had a difficult relationship due to her early pregnancy and chris’ CP, it still also reads as him being gay. so it is still true to his character. it wasn’t intentional, but it would make sense for him to turn out to be gay

but i’m not sure how exactly the writers see eddie’s sexuality. they’re probably too stupid to go down the acknowledging eddie’s gayness and/or demisexuality lane

though i’d like for them to explore eddie’s view on his relationship with shannon - like, make him revisit it and see it in a new light now that he understands himself better

but it likely won’t happen, and he’s going to end up just bucksexual, which i’m okay with, i guess

then we have tim quite literally paralleling eddie to abby with him moving to el paso. and that he actually wanted to compare eddie to abby in buck and maddie’s dialogue in 8x11, but that line was scrapped ’cause the network thought it was too confusing and the audience wouldn’t get the reference

and the way they started to address buck’s feelings for eddie in 8b - these were very obvious signs. and if they don’t follow through on them, then it’s just really bad writing

which leads to the whole bobby’s death mess. ’cause it is a case of really bad writing from tim. before this, i was sure that season 8 would end with buddie canon - because eddie would come back to LA with chris after deciding to cut his parents off and choose himself and his joy once and for all. and it would lead to him finally choosing buck and making a move (love confession/a kiss). i didn’t think that buck would be the first to confess, because he still thinks eddie is straight and wouldn’t risk their friendship like that - he would just bury his feelings if he had to

but tim’s decision to kill bobby - that “had been lingering in the back of his mind for years” - threw me off so much, because literally no one saw it coming and no one thought that’s where the season was going, including the actors and the producers

so it leaves me with 3 options for how this all could go:

1) tim realizes he made a huge mistake and resurrects bobby. or maybe he wanted to fake-kill bobby from the very beginning and is just trying to sell the idea very hard so that no one will figure out bobby is actually alive. and buddie’s feelings realization will happen either during the grief period before they find out bobby’s alive, or after it

2) bobby is actually dead, but buddie will still become canon. which won’t save the show, because they’ve already lost a huge chunk of casual viewers, and even the buddie shippers are mad. ’cause without bobby, the show and its characters will be so different that it won’t even be enjoyable

3) not only is bobby actually dead, but buddie also won’t become canon, because tim decided to “raise the stakes.” so from now on, all the character development will be thrown in the trash, all the main characters will be ooc, they’ll focus on some random characters like gerard and brad, and the show will only be about big emergencies and the spectacle with no heart and soul

option 2 will be bad for the show because killing bobby is a really bad writing decision, and literally everyone on the show except tim thought that. so, again, buddie won’t save it, and it’s in poor taste to make such an important ship canon alongside ruining the show with this death

and option 3 will not only obviously destroy the show, but it will also be the worst and most infuriating and cruel case of queerbaiting in history - ’cause i’ve seen a lot of people who didn’t believe in buddie before start realizing buck and eddie are in love with each other during season 8. which means the writing is on the wall, and we’re not imagining or stretching things. so to not follow through is dumb af

so, in conclusion, i think it was unintentional in s2–s6, and all these coincidences are happening because the universe works in mysterious ways. and i think it was partly intentional and partly unintentional in seasons 7 and 8. but season 8 did everything to start addressing the way buck and eddie feel toward each other - and that it’s not just friendship from both sides

[hanaybuns]

Some official arts that I like

(Aka I’m tired of studying and need a good yap)

First off, they’re so so cute in this pic. Really does give “family photo” vibes and it’s very sweet. Love that they’re all hugging each other, except Jyushi who just has to be different. Very small detail but I like that Kara is hugging oso over the shoulder, which just feels more characteristic to him. This is a "wow 6 is a lot of people" kind of official art for me.

The props? The poses? The colors? The vibes? Obsessed. This art takes place in the incredibly unlikely scenario in which the neets are invited to a hot person pool party. I love their swimsuits, especially karamatsu’s. Like truly this is the quintessential karamatsu fit, they try to convince us that he doesn’t know how to dress but imo he looks the best here. I also feel like we don’t see Kara in sparkles much after season 1, so I’m happy. Love tottys phone protector too, it’s the little details that make these official arts great. This art is also very fan servicy, which is also a plus.

I know that the stands of these are meant to be sold separately, but I really like it when their poses are dynamic enough that they can overlay them and make it feel cohesive. Their onesies are very cute, also I love love love when the artists add blushies to their cheeks. But my fav part of this official art is how fed up karamatsu looks. Like I know intellectually that he’s supposed to be smirking (bc all of the merch has him smirking) but it does NOT look like that here. Especially because his eyes don’t have highlights. It looks like him and Jyushi are not quite convinced. Exclusivematsu at his finest.

YES YES YEEEESSSSS I LOVE THE GIRLYMATSUS. I never talk about it but I love them and their catty trashy friend group. They look soooo good here. I really like when they make choromatsu (choroko here) have a downturned smile, it’s so cute and froggy. Also it’s really funny to me that the Matsuno family emblem is absolutely plastered everywhere, even though it has no significance to them whatsoever. Just love their fits in general. I feel like they could’ve just given them sexy and/or moe dresses but we got shorts, pantaloons, skirts, dresses, the whole 9 yards. The ososan art team has always been great with outfit diversity.

I like one or two things about each of these. For the first I like the fact that we’re actually seeing Kara create his clothing in real time by massacring a jean jacket. For the second I NEED to know what choro is reading. Like jyushi has clearly caught him reading something embarrassing and is teasing (bullying) him about it, which is very funny to me. but it's too blurry so i can't tell what he's reading. For the third, very rare and sweet moment where ichimatsu seems pleased to receive something from kara. Also why is the cake like that? it looks like they took bites out of it directly. Why.

Couple things. Love that they only gave choro the blushies, they love moefying him. I have a whole theory about this, but notice how choro has very natural moe qualities in this art but totty is intentionally making a cute pose? It’s bc they don’t know what to do with totty. his brand is cute… but he’s not moe. I plan to expand on this in the future. Also, sometimes I feel like they don’t know what to do with jyushi. Because they want him to be weird and zany, but in stuff like this he can’t deviate too far from the other bros poses. So he ends up looks kinda awkward. Like this is a very dad/uncle pose. also kara's pose... no comment

but yeah i actually had a bunch more i wanted to talk about but this post is so long already so i'll stop here

[milgramfessing]

People are really odd when it comes to Mu in general. People swing between saying she's never done anything wrong ever, excusing her for literally telling the only doctor in the prison that Haruka was fine and implying he was eating,

24/06/22 (Haruka’s Birthday)

Shidou: ……I’m worried about Sakurai-kun. I haven’t seen him around in a while. You’ve been talking with him, right?

Mu: He’s fine. Here, look. I’ve been taking his food to him like this every day. Isn’t that great of me?

Shidou: Yes, very. I’m sorry I’ve been leaving it to you to look after him. Usually, that would be the job of us adults, and yet we’re leaving you with the burden.

Mu: Don’t worry about it. After all, me and Haruka-kun are friends.

Belittle her character by implying she's too stupid to understand the consequences of her behavior or the feelings of others around her. Despite how caring, observant, and socially aware she has shown herself to be over the course of the series.

20/05/28

Mu: It’s weird…… Even though we’re locked up in a place like this…… everyone seems fine. …………nothing’s happened to me so far…… b-but, who knows when they’ll do something horrible to me…… ……hey, are you listening to me? What are you staring at……?

Amane: I’m not staring at anything.

Mu: Liar, you definitely are…… What is it……? That rabbit? Jackalope…… I think that’s what it’s called. ……do you want to pet it?

Amane: ………… Eh, you want to pet it? If you want to, then I’ll be happy to go over and join you.

20/08/01

Mu: Somehow, he feels even fluffier today than usual…… so soft…… Ah, Haruka, do you want to touch too? Jackalope, I mean……

Haruka: Ah, I-I’m fine…… I’m n-not good, with animals…...

Amane: Hm. To think you’d have a problem with something so cute. You’re a really strange person, Haruka-san.

Haruka: …………I guess so.

All of her characterization gets downplayed and ignored as soon as she's done something harmful. In order to lessen her conscious involvement. People rudely go what was she meant to do to help Haruka she took him food she was trying her best to dissuade him.

Honestly, a good first fucking step would be to bring him something he can actually swallow and would settle on his stomach.

But maybe people are woefully ignorant of how starvation works. Maybe a lot of people don't know if you go long enough without food it becomes painful to even swallow or chew food. So bringing a starving man a whole fish and rice isn't the "I want to help" move people are making it out to be. But how was she supposed to know that- May I take you back to the timeline where she actively disuaded a doctor from checking on him?

Because I think the actual doctor would have been able to know and help in this situation while he was still alive.

If other characters can be responsible for how their actions or inaction indirectly hurt someone in and outside of Milgram despite how they couldn't have possibly known that would be the result what makes Mu better than anyone else who didn't know that they would happen, what makes her more deserving of justifications related to her age and alleged lack of knowledge?

The fucking kicker here is they canonically have something that would have saved Haruka's life in Milgram. If only it was just fucking given to him by one of the two parties that knew what he was doing before the point of no return.

20/06/09

Yuno: Thanks for the meal~! ……huh? Kotoko-san, what’ve you got? That’s so unfair, only you getting to drink something that looks so good.

Kotoko: ……it’s a whey protein shake. It doesn’t taste particularly good or anything. I sent a request for it to the guard. The food we get here isn’t bad in terms of nutrient balance, but it’s a bit lacking in protein for me personally.

Yuno: A protein shake, huh. I’ve never tried one before. It looks kinda like a lassi. Can I have a sip?

Kotoko: ……just one sip. Oi, that’s more than a sip. This is supposed to become my muscle.

But how could you be so sure Haruka could have been stopped through this method?

Well, for starters, it's something he'd be able to consume a little more easily (but may not be painless depending on how long it's been), unlike the food Mu was bringing. Two, it's something one could, in theory, force him to drink if it came to that.

Furthermore, protein drinks are literally what are recommended to help someone who has gone a long period without food get back into eating, be it due to illness or by choice. Because after going a long period withoit food it's not ussually recommended to eat foods that are heavy or too complex. It's either this, fluids, or a feeding tube. So, this is just something that factually could have straight up saved his life.

Beyond all that, he flat out admits this could have stopped him through him going out of his way to ask Kotoko (the one who has this) specifically not to interfere with his plan along with him being implied to have told her exactly what his plan was when asking her to not intervene.

23/12/15 (Kotoko’s Birthday)

Haruka: ……please, don’t tell anyone. And also, please, don’t get involved. All I can do, is ask, you……

Kotoko: ––Fufu, fufufufufu.That’s a crazy thing to be thinking. Honestly, it’s weird. But I don’t hate it. If only all the wrongdoers were like you.

Haruka: No…… that’s wrong…… That’s not, why I’m doing, this…… This, isn’t for me…… I have to protect…… so, Kotoko-san…… please……

Kotoko: Eh? Ah, yeah, yeah. Well, I promise I won’t get in your way. Honestly, if I could, I’d love to do it myself, but I’ll step back this time. As for what happens next…… I wonder. It depends on Es.

The Milgram prisoners have a shared kitchen. Everyone had access to this unless Kotoko was just hoarding it in her room, which I doubt. Yet even so, if anyone else was made aware of Haruka's plan earlier then they could have simply requested protein shakes themselves. Haruka did not have to die like this.

This is what makes Futa consistently bringing up the fact Haruka could have been saved so sad.

Futa (Trial 3 Voice Lines)

1 – Kajiyama Futa. Heh… Hahahaha. I see. Looking back, I probably didn’t need to be so scared.

2 – Who cares about forgiving and not forgiving any more. I don’t care about all the annoying voices I kept hearing. There’s something else more important to follow.

3 – I’m different from how I used to be. That person taught me. About faith, about the new world. It’s all down to me…

4 – There was nothing that could be done about the two who went against the commandments, but I feel bad for Haruka. He could’ve been saved like I was.

5 – Just leave everyone to that person. They can save this prison. Just look at me, I’ve already been saved!

It's what makes this timeline so sad,

24/04/19 (Futa’s Birthday)

Futa: ––Hey, are you really ok with this? If you come with me, there’s a chance you can be saved too…… Haruka.

Haruka: Yeah…… I’ve made my mind up. I have, something, that I have to do.

Futa: Ah, is that right…… Haruka, you know, you’re an idiot. There’s no way…… that will save you……

Haruka: Yeah, thank you. I’m glad you came to talk to me, Futa. Um, thank you, for being so kind. Really. But, I’m sorry. This is all I’m able to do……

Because it's the truth if he went with Futa in that moment if, he chose not to follow through when displayed the alternatives- Haruka would still be here. He would have a proper trial three and a song. Yet, instead of actually showing some consideration and understanding towards the people rightfully upset about the fact they won't have that closure with a character, they grew to care so much about...

Haruka and his characterization has been reduced to simple pity fodder for Mu. So people can go well she tried, she didn't fully understand, she's hurting too that was her friend, or the real kicker-

"Well, you should vote her innocent because that's what Haruka wanted. It's what he did that for. Do you want his last actions in the narrative to be in vain? This is why you should forgive her even though she didn't do as much for him as she could have. She just really didn't know."

As though we should just ignore the fact that despite Haruka crying out in All-Knowing All- Agony that he didn't want to be wiped out,

"Don’t wipe me out, don’t wipe me out- I just want to be your good boy."

Despite him saying blatantly he didn't want to die,

Q.17 How old do you want to live to be?

Haruka: I never thought about it. I don’t want to die.

The people who his character meant so much to are just meant to fall in line and show forgiveness to the person who blatantly said

"Why would I?"

When asked if she was trying to stop him since she knew his plan.

Mu Queen B 12:36s

Mu: Ah- But if you don't forgive me, Haruka-kun will die. So, I think it'd be best not to do that.

Es: ...!

[BELL TOLLS]

Es: So, you've heard about that nonsense, too?

Mu: Mhm. Haruka-kun told me. So I could rest easy, according to him. That made me happy... It made me really feel our friendship!

Es: You know about it, and you're not trying to stop him? Haruka, that is?

Mu: Why would I? Haruka-kun says that's what he wants, so there's nothing I can do, right?

Not letting people mourn and recognize what they've lost along with the unjust nature of that loss all to secure one's own personal comfort- To push forward in ways such as that is an inconsiderateness that's simply the definition of unfairness to me.

Especially while other people within the fandom are allowed to mourn the loss of characters they loved due to the events of the series- Blaming whoever they feel fit be it characters within the series or fans of it. All the while many haphazardly attempt to revise in real time what occurred to defend a character who I don't doubt has a significant amount of depth and emotionality but feel a lot of characterization is being ignored in the way people try to bend and stretch her to fit this idea of what an innocent person to them may be.

Though people may simply do this to ignore her character and the rest of the prisoners' ability to purposefully and knowingly commit harm, something rooted deeply in all ten of their characterizations. I'm sick of seeing people act like Mu is being wrongfully held to task over something she had no involvement in. From the start to Haruka, Mu was the only reason he did this, and the only reason he felt it was all he could really do.

23/04/07

Haruka: Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. Please forgive Mu-san. PleaseforgiveMu-sanpleaseforgiveMu-sanpleaseforgiveMu-sanpleaseforgiveMu-sanpleaseforgiveMu-sanpleaseforgiveMu-san

23/06/22 (Haruka’s Birthday)

Mu: Haruka-kun, I brought your food. Are you still alive? Has any mould started growing?

Haruka: ……ah, thank you very much. Mu-san. Sorry, um…… I……

Mu: You shouldn’t just lock yourself in your room all day. You have to eat your food properly. Hm, well…… I do understand why you’re feeling down. It feels bad. The atmosphere recently.

Haruka: Um, I’m totally fine…… Just a bit, I’m thinking, about how to do it. What to do, what to do, to…… fulfil my promise. For Mu-san’s sake……

"This is all I’m able to do……"

"Haruka Sakurai"- The Third Trial 1:00s

Haruka: .....don't worry, Mu.

Mu: About what......

Haruka: ......you're going to be innocent, I know it.

Mu: ......you really think so?

Haruka: ......yes......

Mu: Haruka......you're ok with this......?

Haruka: Yes...... I'm so happy...... I helped you, I helped someone......

"I changed......I'm...... useful now......"

There's a lot of factors involved here, and I can understand caring about a character deeply and wanting to see them do well.

Yet, being Innocent doesn't equate to being better. Just being accepted isn't the end all be all cure for the problems people will face in their lives or within themselves.

Some characters aren't here to receive that acceptance or rejection anymore, and I think a lot of conversations surrounding Mu ignore that fact. As well as how many fans of the series have the right to be upset by it. Regardless of how others may rationalize and dismiss Mu's involvement.

[goldkirk]

.

[mumblesplash]

the fact that doctors can just Recommend Weight Loss with no instructions beyond ‘eat healthier/less’ is actually insane to me, i lost weight on purpose ONCE and it took me like 6 years to recover a semi-normal relationship with food and hunger

[mossy-enigma]

Jumpscared by this guy I didn’t come out to calling me by my preferred name-

[illyrianbitch]

Are We Still Friends?

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Worried about how his new relationship seems to be changing him, you talk to Azriel about your concerns. Things take a turn when he refuses to listen.

Warnings: some wine sipping, gossiping, angst, miscommunication, friend fighting, jealousy (but no one realizes), az being defensive and blind

Word Count: 5k

(Completed) Series Masterlist | Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

“It’s not that I don’t like her.”

The words tasted as false as they were, and you grimaced the moment they slipped out, already bracing for the look Mor would throw your way. True to form, she didn’t disappoint, her expression halfway between amusement and exasperation.

A defeated sigh escaped as you accepted the glass of wine she offered, watching as she filled her own nearly to the brim.

“You’re better than me, then,” she hummed, settling back onto the couch across from you. “Because I don’t like her.”

You raised a brow. “You don’t like many people nowadays.”

She shrugged, casual as ever, though a smirk tugged at her lips. “True. I’m not exactly lining up for any peace medals, am I?”

You chuckled softly, leaning back in your chair. “I just… have this odd feeling about her, you know?”

Mor tilted her head, letting out a noncommittal hum. “Oh, I know. She drags Az around on a leash.”

You were tempted to say something about the irony in her words—remind her, in a loving manner, that she might've been guilty of that once upon a time, too. But you decided against it. She wasn't wrong.

You swirled the wine in your glass, watching the dark liquid move in slow, mesmerizing circles. The feeling wasn’t new; it had been there since the first time you’d met her. Azriel’s new girlfriend Selene was perfectly fine—charming, even. But there was something else, something you couldn’t quite name. Like a faint hum in the background of a quiet room, just irritating enough to notice but not enough to prove anything was wrong.

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

You glanced up, finding Mor’s bright brown eyes sharp and focused on you, the lazy humor of a moment ago gone.

“I doubt he’ll listen,” you admitted, resting the bottom of your glass on your thigh. “He didn’t listen to you.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s really not.”

Mor raised a brow like she wanted to argue, but she only sighed in response. “He’s been so weird about his love life. Gwyn didn’t work out. Elain’s probably the happiest out of all of us. Maybe he’s treading lightly.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, though you weren’t convinced.

Azriel had changed in small, almost imperceptible ways since everything had settled—since everyone had paired off and fallen in love. Everyone except you. And him.

You were fine with your situation, content in the quiet steadiness of your life. Azriel wasn’t. You knew it. He knew it, though he’d never admit it. So much of his self-worth was tangled up in whether he believed himself worthy of love. And the absence of it—of a solid, undeniable love in his life, of a partner, of a potential bond—seemed to weigh on him. To him, it wasn’t just an empty space; it was a failure.

You’d almost go as far as to say he’d become desperate, living in the shadows and watching his brothers experience loves so profound they might as well have been plucked from stories meant to inspire poets and dreamers.

Mating bonds were rare. You reminded yourself of that often. Your family was just an anomaly, their luck skewed impossibly high. But logic wasn’t enough to soothe Azriel, and it certainly wouldn’t stop him from chasing it. He was obsessive. Stubborn.

Nothing you said or did could change his perspective.

Mor’s voice pulled you out of your head again. “Speak of the devil,” she sang out. “Hi, Elain.”

Your gaze snapped up to the doorway, finding Elain standing just beyond the archway. She looked like a spooked deer, frozen in place with that polite smile you’d come to recognize as her default around company she hadn’t fully warmed up to yet.

“We were just talking about Azriel’s unfortunate romantic history,” Mor said smoothly. You glanced at Elain for her reaction.

It had taken time for that particular history to fade. Maybe it was appropriate to joke about now, but you personally would’ve waited a few more years before bringing it up so flippantly. Mor, however, had little patience for such niceties.

Elain’s expression didn’t shift beyond a faint flicker in her eyes, and you realized how much her composure had improved over the years. Then again, it had been a while since she and Lucien had found each other for good—long enough for their bond to solidify and for them to leave for the Day Court after their mating ceremony.

A twinge of jealousy sparked in you before you brushed it aside.

“We’re just gossiping in general. Want to join us?” you asked, gesturing to the chair beside you. Plush and inviting, it mirrored the one you sat on. “Unless Lucien is waiting for you upstairs?”

Elain’s cheeks flushed crimson. 

“Lucien’s still with Feyre, catching up,” she said, stepping further into the room. “What are you drinking?”

Mor reached for the bottle on the table, plucking it up and turning it in her hand to read the label.

“Something good and expensive,” she replied, with a half-hearted air of indulgence, before tilting her head at Elain with a faint grin.

“It’s from Rhys’s rather gluttonous collection,” you said, sensing Elain’s hesitation. “It won’t be missed at all.”

She smiled at that. “I’d love some.”

“There are a lot of glasses in that cabinet,” you said, pointing to the wood door with ornate carvings. “Grab whichever one you’d like.”

Mor sat up straighter, scooting herself back into the pillows behind her. You hummed, impressed, at her ability to hold both her full wine glass and the bottle without so much as a wobble.

You hadn’t spent much time with Elain one-on-one. Emissary duties had kept you busy during the years the Archeron sisters had adjusted to their new lives. But you liked Elain, from what you’d seen. She had a kind heart. She also had a sharp humor that surfaced at the oddest moments, usually when she and Lucien were whispering in corners, conspiratorial before seamlessly rejoining whatever social event they were at like they’d never left.

Elain returned and sat down with her chosen glass—a delicate crystal piece that gleamed in the soft light. Mor went to fill it instantly. 

“Can I ask why you were discussing Azriel’s romantic life?” Elain asked. Her voice was smooth, certain. No hesitation.

It didn’t faze her anymore, you realized—being such a strange, pivotal turning point in Azriel’s past experiences. She’d made peace with it, the way immortality seemed to demand. Time softened the edges of even the messiest situations, turning them into stories you could recount with startling detachment. Almost humorous, really.

Because how else could you explain being casual about the fact that your best friend had almost allowed his pride—and arrogance—and, somehow simultaneously, his insecurity—to lead him into a blood duel over Elain’s affections? A blood duel.

But now, it was just… something to write off. A distant memory, softened by the years and Lucien’s easy confidence. Lucien was better than you. You would’ve held that grudge against Azriel for many more years—long enough to make it a point of pride. But then again, Lucien had won everything he wanted in the end. He had the girl, the bond, the certainty that whatever lingering rivalry Azriel might feel was entirely one-sided.

It wasn’t important enough for Lucien to waste any more energy on.

You exchanged a glance with Mor, who arched a brow, clearly just as amused by Elain’s openness.

“Y/n doesn’t like his new girlfriend,” Mor said.

Your mouth fell open. “You don’t either.”

“True,” Mor agreed easily. She looked to Elain. “We don’t like her.”

“For clarification,” you said firmly, “I never said I didn’t like her.”

Mor laughed, sipping her wine with an amused grin.

Your face fell flat. “What?”

“Nothing,” she replied breezily. “But if you get a bad feeling about someone, that’s usually dislike.”

You resisted the urge to scowl, already turning over the guilt in your mind. You didn’t want to be that person—the kind who dismissed another female off the bat. Maybe your gut was wrong this time. Maybe her smile had reached her eyes, and you’d been too preoccupied to notice. Maybe her tone hadn’t been as assessing as you remembered, and you were projecting. You wanted to like her. You wanted to be happy for Azriel.

But he didn’t seem happy. He seemed distracted. Busy. Not himself.

And not the kind of busy you’d seen before—the methodical, obsessive focus he funneled into work or training. This was different, scattered in a way you couldn’t quite pin down. It had made sense in the beginning, when things were new and exciting, but now it was starting to feel uncomfortable. He’d started missing things—small things at first, like sparring sessions or those late-night conversations you, Mor, and him would have when you couldn’t sleep. Then came the bigger things. He’d stopped being able to review external court updates with you, even when those meetings were critical for your diplomatic roles.

Azriel had always been the one you could count on. Out of everyone, you considered him your closest friend—even more than Mor, though you’d never admit it out loud. But now it seemed like every time you made plans, Selene needed him more.

And then there was how fast it was all moving. Too fast. At a recent family dinner, she’d casually mentioned that she and Azriel could move in together—offhand, like it was the most obvious next step. Something about leaving the townhouse behind, creating a space with décor that matched her aesthetic. Azriel had just stayed quiet, looked at her like she’d just proposed the most brilliant idea in existence.

You noticed he did that. The way he looked at her. The way he’d looked at Elain and Gwyn back when they were seeing each other. It weirded you out—that tendency to put the people he saw as romantic interests on a pedestal, as though they were flawless. As though they were something he didn’t deserve.

You knew where it came from. That deep-rooted insecurity that even centuries hadn’t managed to erase. He didn’t see it, the way he wore himself down trying to prove his worth to people who, for the most part, had already accepted him. But you saw it. You always had.

And it made it harder to like Selene. To trust her intentions. Maybe that was unfair, but you couldn’t help but feel like she was just taking—taking all the parts of Azriel that used to be all of yours to share, and twisting them into something else. Something that didn’t include his family.

Still, you wanted to try. To let go of the gnawing irritation in your chest and convince yourself it didn’t matter. If she made him happy—truly happy—then none of it should matter. You were adamant on ensuring that you didn’t turn into the stereotypical overbearing female best friend.

Elain tapped her glass lightly. “Lucien doesn’t like her.”

You blinked back into reality. “Really?”

She nodded, a beat passing before she added, “To be honest, I’m not sure I do either.”

Mor leaned forward, grinning like she’d been handed a stack of gold. You almost wished Amren was here to bask in the moment. Amren didn’t like Azriel’s girlfriend, either. Maybe your family really was as unwelcoming as people claimed. Or maybe Selene simply brought out another level of scrutiny. The thought of either option made you feel bad— gross. 

“Why?” Mor asked.

“She was dismissive toward Lucien. And,” Elain hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly, “She seemed… entitled, I suppose. Especially with Azriel. Like she expected him to accommodate her every whim.”

You frowned, turning over her words. “I’m sure she was just nervous. We can be an intimidating group. Maybe she just needs time to settle in. We just want Az to be happy, right? So, if she makes him happy, then I’m absolutely fine with her.”

The silence that followed was thick. For a moment, you wondered if you’d said something wrong. Something weird.

“Are you?” Elain asked, her tone sincere.

“Are you?” Mor echoed at the same time, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You shot Mor a glare, but she only raised her brows and sipped her wine again, infuriatingly unbothered. Exhaling, you willed yourself to meet Elain’s gaze.

“I am,” you said, trying for conviction. “Really.”

Elain pursed her lips. Her gaze shifted to Mor, lingering longer than you liked, and then back to you.

“Alright,” she hummed. “I guess I was wrong.”

You stilled. Elain reclined deeper into her seat, accepting a refill from Mor. Her wine glass remained only half-full compared to yours and Mor’s.

Curiosity burned. You leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

Elain furrowed her brows. “What do I mean about what?”

“You said you guess you were wrong. What does that mean?”

Mor’s gaze bored into the side of your face. Any second now, you were sure she’d make some quip about how bothered you were. But you weren’t bothered. Just curious.

Elain swirled her wine, watching the light catch the liquid. “I’m not sure. Things feel off. Like something’s coming. Az needs help with it, I think.”

You froze. “Off? Like—how?”

She hesitated, thoughtful. “It’s hard to explain,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “But I feel it. In my chest. My visions sometimes do that. That’s why I asked.”

Well, that unsettled you. You glanced at Mor, whose amused grin had fallen into something more contemplative.

It seemed you might need to have a conversation with Azriel after all.

“I don’t like that,” you admitted, your nose crinkling. 

“I think I heard him get back earlier. Go talk to him,” Mor said, her tone gentler now, though a hint of mischief lingered in her eyes. You didn’t read too much into that. Mor’s eyes tended to be expressive. She also tended to be mischievous when her blood was primarily red wine. 

“Okay,” you said. “Maybe just to check in.”

Elain nodded. “Just to check in,” she echoed, almost reassuring.

“Have fun,” Mor added, her grin returning just enough to be annoying, but not enough to distract you from the unease curling in your chest.

You didn’t respond, instead taking another slow sip of your drink. The glass clinked softly as you set it down on the table before you made your way upstairs.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Mor turned to Elain. “Did you really feel something that unsettling?”

Elain let out a laugh. “No,” she said lightly. “I completely made that up. But she doesn’t need to know that.”

Mor’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. Seconds later, her head tilted back in a laugh just as vibrant as it was unapologetic.

“Genius,” she declared, raising her glass in mock salute.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

The walk upstairs was quiet.

The townhome, in general, was quieter nowadays. Aside from the times others came to visit—like Lucien and Elain—only you and Azriel lived here full time.

When you reached Azriel’s bedroom door, your steps faltered for a moment. There was a hesitation in you that hadn't existed before. You raised your hand to knock, but the action felt more awkward than usual. It made you sad, momentarily, that you hesitated. You never second-guessed yourself with Azriel. You wanted to tread carefully in this new era of his life, though. You didn’t want to overstep, to become a nuisance. But whatever this was—whatever had unsettled Elain enough to mention it—you needed to know. Azriel had always been a constant for you, and if something felt “off,” you wanted to understand why.

Your knuckles rapped lightly on the door. “Az?” 

Inside, you heard the shuffle of movement, followed by his low, familiar voice. “Come in.”

You didn’t see Azriel immediately, but the smell of soap and the damp air told you that he recently showered. Shadows slithered across the floor, comfortable and excited, exploring the familiar confines of his room.

You greeted the tendrils as you usually did, letting them brush against your legs as you flopped onto his bed. The bed, like everything else in his room, was simple: plain black sheets, no extravagant pillows, just the bare necessities. It used to drive you mad, the emptiness of it all.  But what was in his room spoke volumes—— bare walls except for a dagger mount on one side, a small uncluttered desk with a well-worn sharpening stone. 

Azriel exiting the bathroom pulled your attention, your eyes settling on him as he rubbed his wet hair thoroughly with a towel. He shook his head slightly, wet curls bouncing onto his forehead, and met your gaze. His eyes flicked to where you lay, scanning your body. He nodded toward your feet.

“C’mon,” he almost whined. “No shoes on the bed.”

You looked down at yourself, grimacing as you realized that your shoes were, indeed, on his clean comforter. A simple set of house slippers, so nothing entirely too dirty, but it had completely slipped your mind. Very comfortable shoes, you noted, maybe you’d get Feyre a pair as a solstice gift.

“Oh whoops,” you said with an apologetic smile. “My bad, clean freak.”

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the quirk of his lips anyways.

For a moment, the old sense of comfort settled over you. But then, a thought crept in—the thought that maybe you shouldn’t lie on his bed like this anymore. It had been fine before, but now… now it felt different. He had someone else in his life. It wasn’t weird, exactly, but it was a little inappropriate.

You sat up straighter.

“Did you and Mor grow tired of rehashing the same centuries old gossip?” He teased.

You snorted, watching as his shadows flitted above his shoulders. They were amused, laughing in their own way. “Never,” you responded, pushing yourself off his bed. You were drawn to the otherside of his room, to the simple dresser against the wall. “Elain joined us this time.”

Your back was to him, but you had a feeling that the momentary silence, the stillness that you felt, was a knee-jerk reaction from Azriel—something reminiscent of embarrassment, shame, or guilt at her name. But all he responded was, “Oh?”

“I like her,” you said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I kinda wish I spent more time with her…”

You paused, your words trailing off quietly as you took in the small details before you. 

Azriel’s dresser had always been the one surface he decorated, not because he cared for decoration, but because it was the only surface large enough to hold anything. Over the years, it had become a quiet testament to the things that mattered to him: a mix of Solstice and birthday gifts, trinkets you’d both collected on missions and trips. You liked seeing what had changed, what had been added. It gave you a glimpse into where Azriel had been, who had been with him. 

Lately, there had been more—more trinkets, more oddities that stood in stark contrast to the weapons displayed elsewhere, the ones mostly hidden away in his closet. A macaroni necklace from Nyx. A horribly made clay version of him you’d created during a drunken pottery night with Feyre, Mor, and Amren.

But now, the dresser was foreign. The once familiar surface had been wiped clean, replaced by delicate perfume bottles, jewelry that looked too fine to be his, and a candle that smelled—oddly—like the puke of a flower faerie. Some of it was new. Most of it was hers.

Azriel’s presence had vanished from his own furniture entirely.

“Huh.”

“What?” Azriel asked.

You glanced over your shoulder. “I see you’ve decorated more.”

Azriel tilted his head, and a few of his shadows slithered down his body, crossing the room to pool around your ankles. “I guess,” he said. “Selene said my room needed more life.”

You leaned forward, brushing your fingers along the ceramic jewelry dish, the cool surface sending a strange chill through your skin. The shadows flickered over your hand, almost as if they were inspecting it too. They moved with purpose, then slowly obscured it, hiding it from view.

You frowned, confused.

Azriel, still silent, was rifling through his closet. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you as he moved, but he said nothing. The shadows returned to his side as you turned to look at him.

"Are you going somewhere?" you asked, trying to break the silence.

Now, Azriel barely spared you a glance.

“Yeah. Meeting Selene,” he replied simply.

After a few seconds of silence, Azriel turned his head and properly held your gaze. “Why? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you responded with a casual wave of your hand, but Elain’s words echoed in your mind. You cleared your throat. “Well, actually, no. I was hoping I could talk to you.”

He frowned, standing up straighter, his wings flexing with the motion. “Is it something serious?”

You paused, carefully filtering through your words. “No, just something that’s been on my mind.”

Azriel studied you, doubt flickering in his hazel eyes. It was the kind of look that always made you feel like he was reading you too easily. He probably didn’t believe you, not entirely—but he nodded anyway. His lips curved into a small, apologetic smile. “Raincheck then?”

You mirrored his smile, though it felt thin. “Yeah, sure. We can talk tomorrow, once we’re back from the Hewn City.”

Azriel stilled. The way his gaze dropped to the floor and lingered felt like a guilty dog, an animal caught in an act forbidden. “Shit,” he said, his tone cautious. “I can’t go.”

You blinked, the words taking a moment to settle. “Seriously? Az, Rhys is expecting an update.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere enough. It didn’t matter. “But you can handle it on your own, you know this.” 

“Are you serious?” you said, the hurt slipping out before you could stop it. “I don’t want to deal with Keir alone.”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to Rhys, but Selene’s been wanting to—”

“Never mind,” you cut him off, shaking your head. You forced a smile. “Have fun tonight. And tomorrow.”

Azriel scanned your face. After another moment of silence, he sighed.

“Okay, what is it?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You clearly have something on your mind. Tell me.”

You hesitated, holding his gaze. “I actually wanted to talk to you about Selene.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened instantly. He looked away, his tongue running across his teeth as he shook his head. “Not you too. Don’t be like this.”

Your frown deepened, offended by the immediate shift in tone. “Be like what? I haven’t even said anything yet.”

He met your eyes again, his stare almost challenging. “We both know what you’re going to say.”

“Do we?”

“First Mor, then Nesta, and now you.” His voice was sharp, but not loud. “Should I be concerned that the females in my life are so quick to rally against my girlfriend?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms to mirror his pose. “Well, yeah, Az. Maybe you should be.”

He rolled his eyes, the shadows at his feet flickering with the motion. “Fine. What do you want to tell me, then?”

For a moment, you hesitated, the words lingering on the edge of your tongue. Azriel had always been good at looking through you, unraveling thoughts you hadn’t fully formed yet. And now, under the weight of his sharp gaze, you felt exposed.

“I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

Something flickered in his expression, quick and fleeting—too fast for you to decipher. For the first time in a long while, Azriel felt unreadable, like he’d drawn a curtain between himself and you. “Really?” he asked, his tone tight, almost incredulous.

You faltered, a small thread of doubt weaving its way through your resolve. Was he happy? Would he even tell you if he wasn’t?

“Yes, really,” you replied, a defensive edge creeping into your voice. “You’ve been distant lately. Running around at her beck and call. None of us know her. I want to understand what’s going on with you. I want to understand her.”

Azriel’s wings shifted again, his gaze hardening.

“I want to make sure this is the kind of relationship you want,” you finished, quieter now.

The room fell into silence, heavy and still. Azriel watched you as if he was turning your words over and over in his mind. You waited, unsure of what to expect—if anything at all.

“I wouldn’t be in a relationship I didn’t want. Can we drop it, please.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. What a strange, dismissive answer. It bothered you— bothered you more than anything he’d ever told you before. 

“Az, I just don’t want you to change who you are for someone. You don’t need to cater to her every whim.”

His expression darkened, shadows curling tighter around his boots. “I’m her boyfriend. I do what she asks.”

You raised an eyebrow, unable to stop the scoff that slipped out. Azriel had never been so clipped with you. “That’s not the definition of a boyfriend. That’s the definition of a bitch.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched, his wings flaring in irritation. “Excuse me?”  His voice cut through the room. “Do you really think I’m some incompetent love-sick loser?”

“I think you stop seeing flaws in the people you love.”

The words hung between you, heavier than you’d anticipated. A small part of you wondered if “love” was the word Azriel would use to describe his feelings for her. Another part worried that he didn’t correct you.

“That’s not true.”

“It’s not?”

“No,” he snapped. “I can clearly see that you’re being unfair. Quick to judge, much like Mor. That’s a flaw.”

“Oh, please,” you shot back, “You know what I meant. The people you’re infatuated with—”

“Where is this sudden concern coming from?” he interrupted, his shadows now beginning to curl between you like restless mediators, unsure where to settle. “Are you trying to cause issues?”

Something ran hot through your body.

“Seriously? I’m talking to you about this because I care. Because Elain had some cryptic feeling about you—”

“Elain is involved in this conversation, too?” His voice dripped with frustration now. “Gods, Y/n, should I send word for Gwyn while we’re at it? Get her opinion?”

“What the hell has gotten into you?” You took an authoritative step forward.  “I’ve never judged you. I’ve always tried to support you and your messy love life, no matter how complicated. Don’t you trust me, Azriel? As a friend?”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately, his shadows flickering uncertainly, still deciding whether to retreat or rise.

You gestured around the room. “Look at this place. You’ve erased all traces of your family—of you, of us. Where did you even put—”

“Oh, gods.” Azriel’s voice broke through, and for a moment, you thought he might crumble. His wings folded, and his hand dragged across his face, the weight of his exhaustion sinking in. “She was right.”

You froze. “What?”

Azriel met your gaze, his eyes hesitant for a heartbeat before turning sharp. “About you. Selene said you were jealous. That you had feelings for me.”

The words hit like a slap, and your world tilted on its axis. “What?” you asked again, your voice breaking on the word. Maybe you had misheard him. Maybe he had misspoken.

“I told her she was wrong. But now…” He let the sentence hang in the air, searching your face for something that maybe wasn’t even there.

“Now, what?” Your voice rose, tinged with anger. “You think I’m here because I’m jealous? Because I have some… crush on you?”

His wings flared slightly at your tone, but he didn’t back down. “I don’t know. It’s just—why else would you care so much about this?”

Your stomach twisted, a deep, cold ache settling there. “Why else?” you repeated, the words bitter on your tongue. “Because I care about you, Azriel. Because you’ve been my friend for centuries. Are you seriously confused about this?” 

For a moment, Azriel’s expression faltered, but he didn’t apologize. Instead, he said, “I didn’t ask you to care about my love life.”

“You didn’t have to,” you snapped, stepping closer. “That’s what friends do. But you’re standing there, letting her perception of me—someone who doesn’t even know me—warp your judgment. You’ve known me longer than that. Or at least, I thought you did. And the fact that you’d entertain this—” You stopped, shaking your head. “It’s insulting.”

Azriel said nothing. He just stood there, shadows now curling tighter around him. 

You had no idea how this conversation had gotten away from you, no idea how it turned into this—where this defensiveness, this anger, had come from. This wasn’t Azriel. Loyal, overly so. Impulsive. Protective. 

Or maybe it was. Maybe that loyalty was directed at someone else now—someone who clearly saw you as something threatening. You’d never been on the other side of Azriel before. Never thought you’d see the day. The realization hit like a slap to the face, leaving you shocked, stunned, a pit opening in your stomach that felt too deep to climb out of.

“You know what? Forget it.” You stepped back, the fight draining out of you all at once.

Azriel’s brows furrowed. “Really? That’s it?”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, your lips curving into something that might have been a smile if it weren’t so bitter. “Yeah,” you said, your voice flat. “That’s it.”

You turned for the door, hand on the handle, but paused. The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them, sharp and pointed, a petty jab that felt equal parts satisfying and hollow. “Make sure to lock this door when you leave—I’d hate to accidentally stumble back in and throw myself at you.”

Azriel stiffened, his wings snapping taut behind him. For a brief second, you thought he might say something, anything. But he didn’t.

You closed the door behind you with a heavy thud.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

authors note: no one tell them they probs have feelings for each other bc they’ll probably fight you (also elains moment is so self indulgent bc i would totally be making shit up based off my powers. like yeah actually you can’t be mean to be :/ powers are saying you’ll die if you are)

Part Two

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters 

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

@melissat1254

@secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey @inkedinshadows

azriel tag list 🫶🏻:@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty @acourtofsteelandthunder  @mortqlprojections @ushijima-stits @honethatty12

[lokissweater]

beetlejuice!

{beetlejuice!satoru gojo x f!reader}

— “ may you never forget me ” ♪ ༘⋆

summary: living as a psychic medium was like a ticket straight to nothing in your life, you always accidentally creeping people out and scaring them when you talked about it, and you just feeling empty— like something was missing and vacant in your life with no explanation as to why. but upon stumbling through an attic inside a house of a recently deceased couple, you meet him— beetlejuice, a silly and wacky man who was damned to live in the attic for eternity due to him breaking the rules, you never having met a spirit so forward and flirtatious in your life as you quickly bonded. but when beetlejuice presents the idea of you being able to break his contract and finally set him free, you hesitate at the one condition… marrying him.

warnings: MDNI afab!reader, DIABOLICAL angst my god, angst w/ comfort though YIPPEEE, mentions of death, mentions of murder, reader is a psychic medium, fluuufff, SMUUUTTT, p in v sex, DOM AFF SATORU MEOOWWW, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), creampie, oral, blowie, mentions of ghosts and spirits and things, loosely inspired by the 80s movie, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)

word count: 19.8k

authors note: YEEEEEOOOOWWWW GET READY YALL….. SHES FREAKY… SHES ANGSTY… AND SHES THE MOMEEEENNTTTT omg i absolutely LOOOVEDDD writing this one so much and i hope you guys find it interesting or i’m gonna CRYYYY HEHEHEH no i’m jk but as always, i love you SO SO SO much and thank you for all of your love and support !! MWAAAHHH <333

you’ve always had a knack for the paranormal.

and from the newspaper clippings you saw and the meddlesome whisperings of your fellow neighbors, newlyweds adam and barbara maitland died on their way home from a day out in the town— swerving in their vehicle while crossing over a bridge and crashing through the side of it, evidently sending themselves tumbling down to the river below and drowning.

it was the biggest tragedy your tiny town had ever been hit with, the maitland’s having renovated their house on the hill from scratch and had recently just finished it when the accident happened, the both of them in the midst of planning their honeymoon to get away from winter river for a little while, happy and in love and looking forward to a quiet serene life together.

it was a shame, really, and it only took two weeks for rumors to spread about how there were always weird moving shadows from the windows of their two story home, or slight flashings of neon blue or white seeping through the cracks of their front door— all of which pissed the realtors off seeing as the rumors prevented the house from being sold again, prospected buyers coming in with high hopes only to be scared off once they so even explored the town, a store clerk or a fellow neighbor quick to tell them of the gossip and to stay away, ultimately causing the house to collect dust and cobwebs until realtors decided they wouldn’t bother much with it anymore.

and the rumors always peaked your interest, as your entire life you’ve always had a passion for the supernatural seeing as your late parents were psychic mediums for the otherworldly, a beautiful ominous gift that was relayed to you from the moment you were able to correctly comprehend sentences, your mind and soul more welcoming to spirits of the unknown compared to regular folk who flat out refused.

and why? you didn’t know. they were just mystic entities that perhaps couldn’t find their way to the other side like they were intended, and if the rumors were true, the maitland’s were in the same predicament, and you felt like they just needed time and space without the pestering of realtors or dumb kids knocking on the windows to see if a ghost would pop out— deserving of a proper chance to figure it out.

except your boyfriend wouldn’t understand that either.

“babe c’mon!” he pleaded with you, a distressed look on his face. “i thought you liked creepy ghost shit?”

you scoffed. “yes rin but not to fucking break in and steal their things! what the hell’s the matter with you?!”

rin groaned and rubbed his eyes, his friends obviously annoyed and bothered by your defiance and it only made you feel awkward, sitting there on your desk chair in your college dorm and guiltily picking at your black nail polish.

“y/n we literally cannot go if you don’t go.” he pushed. “we need your ghost brain to tell us if they’re around so we can scram if they decide to kill us.”

you snorted, already aggravated by rin’s lack of respect and wholeheartedly believing dumb stereotypes.

“you’re committing a crime—”

“the house is abandoned! no one gives a shit!” he threw his arms up. “babe c’mon i’m serious it’s getting late and we’re losing time.”

why wasn’t he listening?

“what are you looking for anyways?” you mumbled.

“money.” he replied, grabbing his black bag and swinging it over his shoulder. “that’s literally it i won’t take anything else.”

“do you swear?” you peered up at him. “don’t take jewelry or any of their things just money and we get out.”

“yeah we won’t! right guys?”

rin looked over both of his shoulders to ensure that his friends agreed, them muttering and sighing as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek and feeling embarrassed for some reason, slowly standing and crossing your arms.

you never liked his friends.

“and leave me out of it okay?” you spoke. “we could get kicked out of college for this i don’t know how you’re not worried…”

he swung a heavy arm around your shoulders and nudged you on, you stumbling a bit as he basically had a lock around your neck on your way outside.

“they’re not gonna care y/n.” he dismissed, unlocking the car and his friends piling in the back while you settled in the passenger seat. “nobody will. it’s abandoned.”

the entire way there you were aggravated and guilty, rin and his friends babbling on about the valuable things they’d hope to find and the kind of ghosts they thought would appear, not a single person in the car an actual believer of those paranormal rumors as they poked fun and teased, your forehead against the glass of the window and miserable as rin drove up the steep hill— the night chilly and so dark that you could barely make out the shape of the house until you were just about to pull up to the driveway.

rin turned off his headlights and tuned down the radio to avoid drawing attention, steering wheel shifting a little to the right so the car could gradually round over and stop next to the front steps of the porch— rin shutting off the ignition once he parked and stuffing his keys into his pocket.

and you could immediately feel a presence even from outside the house, your arms stiff and tingly as you all quietly got out of the car and made your way to the stairs, dry dirt crinkling beneath your shoes as you tried to swallow back your nerves knowing that at any moment you could all be fucking arrested.

“are you sensing ghosts?” rin whispered, a sly teasing grin on his face as the floorboards of the porch creaked with your movements, his hand reaching and jiggling the doorknob.

“yeah.”

his eyes snapped over to you. “…really? yeah right.”

“no i’m serious.” you whispered back. “what did you bring me for if you’re not even gonna believe when i tell you—”

“okay! okay i’m sorry.” he apologized, though it didn’t seem genuine as he patted your back. “i believe you trust me.”

“wait— she said there’s ghosts?” one of his friends piped up. “how do you know?”

you went to answer but rin beat you to it.

“she’s a psychic… i guess.” he unzipped his bag and pulled out a mini tool kit, a mix of screwdrivers and bobby pins inside. “she can sense them.”

“oh my god…” another one mumbled, all of his friends eerie now. “rin— i thought you said those rumors were bullshit.”

your eyes narrowed. “you said that?”

“no!— i mean, technically yes but—” he took two bobby pins from the kit and put the rest of the box away, hunching down to lock pick the knob. “you guys really think any of that is real? it’s just the neighbors man they’re bored—”

“people here don’t just make up rumors like that rin.” you cut him off. “the majority of winter river is elderly and in retirement why the fuck would they be making up—”

“because they’re old and bored—”

the lock released a prominent click and rin tested the doorknob again, this time it turning all the way and opening as he pushed it wide, you all proceeding cautiously and it somehow being colder inside than it was outside as the group shined their flashlights around every corner and space, not bothering to tell your boyfriend that the presence you felt earlier was ten times stronger now, for rin never really believed you or just thought you were being funny whenever you mentioned things like that to him.

you had known rin since the start of college, him always the rebel dickish type as he didn’t follow directions or liked whenever people tried to tell him what to do, and how you ended up crossing paths with him and it sticking was something that was a mystery to you.

rin was everything you wanted at first.

and though he was a bit selfish, you foolishly looked past the fact and let him meddle his way into your already monotonous life, it being hard for you to make friends in the first place because of your psychic abilities— always feeling like something was missing and… vacant for years growing up without any explanation as to exactly why, figuring it was just the side effects of your parents’ passing.

but it still didn’t help when you’d accidentally partake in scaring off and weirding people out when you mentioned that you just saw their deceased relative wander by, rin being one of the first to actually stay because he didn’t believe you, choosing to turn a blind eye to something you treasured about yourself the most, stuck and left to wonder if there was ever someone who did.

but turning a blind eye to just your psychic ability became him turning a blind eye to everything about you, and you felt like he never really listened to what you had to say or cared, often switching the topic back to himself or giving you a series of ‘mhm’s’ and ‘yeah’s’ to get you to move on.

you didn’t feel seen anymore, but you loved him still for some reason.

“where do we even look?” one of his friends whispered, the lot of you traveling as a group through the entry room and down the hall to the kitchen.

“wherever you think a money bank would be.” rin mumbled, leading you all and going round to the living room, his flashlight shining over dusty furniture and spiderwebs. “i think it’d be better if we split up. half of us can take upstairs and the others can look through the kitchen, y/n and i are gonna dig through here for a bit—”

“what?” you spoke, his friends nodding and walking off to their designated areas. “rin no i told you i’m not—”

“oh my god babe— would it really hurt you to just peek in some freaking drawers? let me know if something looks like it has money in it alright?”

he stepped over to the middle and crouched by the coffee table, opening and closing several compartments. “be useful please.”

you scoffed. “you’re the one who dragged me here and i told you i wasn’t getting involved.”

“you’re not.” he mumbled, standing back up and going over to a big brown dresser on the side. “just look at shit and don’t touch anything. tell me if you see money.”

you rubbed your cheek in exhausted frustration, thinking it’d be better to just mindlessly look around to appease him as you caught and stared at the photographs over by the fireplace— a wedding portrait of whom you assumed to be adam and barbara maitland propped up amongst others of family and friends, your fingers raising to gently wipe away the dirt and grime from the glass to get a clearer look of them.

you felt awful that their lives were taken from them just when they had built such a loving foundation for it, and you felt even more awful that rin and his stupid friends were invading their space and stealing in the way that they were with no sense of respect.

a sudden loud thud from upstairs made you and rin stop in your tracks, the both of you unmoving as you tried to listen.

“i’m gonna—” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “i’m gonna check upstairs—”

“no absolutely not.” rin shook his head. “it’s probably just my friends it’s fine.”

“if it’s the maitland’s your friends aren’t gonna know what to do besides shit themselves—”

“okay yeah sure.” he laughed, opening and closing different drawers from top to bottom. “it’s the house babe it’s old and worn out. maybe the— wood or whatever is acting up.”

you pursed your lips, arms crossing and apprehensive as you stood next to him, knowing with everything in you that the maitland’s were definitely still present.

“can we please just go rin...” you asked softly. “please we’ll— we’ll find a different building that’s actually abandoned and doesn’t have the maitland’s still here—”

he scoffed. “y/n this one is abandoned.“

“but it’s only been three months!” you exclaimed. “i don’t wanna do this to them—”

“—oh sweet! there’s a rolex in here—”

“no!” you snatched the watch from his upheld hand and backed away towards the fireplace. “you swore to me just money these are their things—”

“y/n they’re dead! who fucking cares? all of their shit’s gonna be donated might as well pawn it.”

“yeah for your own benefit right?” you mumbled, pushing past him and walking down the hall. “i’m going home.”

he looked at you baffled. “are you serious? over a dumb watch?”

“rin you’ve gone back on everything you promised and you’re not taking me seriously—”

“did i take the watch? no i didn’t so stop—”

“i’m not talking about just the watch!”

“you know what?! fine!” rin shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys, chucking them at you and hitting against your chest as you scrambled to catch them. “go wait in the car.”

you threw them back and they hit his upper arm, his eyes narrowing at you in return as he then bent down to grab them from the floor.

“i’m not waiting in the damn car i’m walking home.”

“you’re walking?” he shook his head. “back to your dorm? that’s gonna take you like an hour y/n.”

you shrugged.

“fine go i don’t give a shit.” rin muttered and rolled his eyes. “you always do this man—”

you didn’t bother to stick around for anything else he had to say as you trudged on down the hall and back to the main entryway, tears brimming your eyes at the lack of care he had for you and scolding yourself for the thousandth time for staying with him, trying to understand why he was like this with you when all you’ve ever done was be patient and give him the benefit of the doubt when he didn’t fucking deserve it.

it was hard for you to tell if he even loved you anymore, and you always psyched yourself out that he did whenever he’d barely just accomplish doing the bare minimum.

upon arriving at the front door, you placed the rolex gently on a lonesome night stand by the coat hanger, your hand reaching and turning the knob to step outside until another loud thud shook through the walls, and louder this time as you pulled back and craned your head to look up the stairs.

muffled voices seeped from the top as they gasped and whispered to each other to shush, you recognizing some to be rin’s friends with irritation and worry simmering in your brain, wondering if they were messing with the maitland’s things and stealing what they weren’t supposed to steal, as they were just as uncaring and selfish as rin was throughout the time that you’ve gotten to know them.

and with that in mind, you let go of the doorknob and quietly walked up the stairs, every creak and groan from the wooden slabs underneath your feet making you wince as you went further and further until you reached the top, you sighing as you saw that the maitland’s room door was wide fucking open and with snickering inside.

but with each step that you took to get closer… the more prominent the goosebumps on your arms became and the heavier the feeling in your gut grew, a strange apparent flickering light from your right blinding your vision for a moment as you stopped and turned to look.

your eyes slightly widened, a neon lime green foggy light practically oozing from the attic staircase as it streamed over half of your frame, luring you in with your body mindlessly and curiously walking towards it and up the rugged squeaky stairs, fingers quickly reaching up to swing the attic door open and halting in alarm once you did, the green aluminous light from earlier completely encasing you entirely now as you stepped forward inside the attic.

the door swung and slammed itself shut suddenly, you jumping and spinning around with hurried hands coming up to pull and tug at the knob, breathing irregular upon realizing that it wouldn’t fucking budge and was somehow jammed with no explanation as to exactly how—

“boyfriend troubles?”

“oh my god!” you screamed, hand flying over your heart as your eyes snapped to the source, a tall lanky man standing there with a little grin and vibrant pale blue eyes that only utterly confused you, his vertically stripped black and white suit peculiar and unique as your frantic eyes darted over his figure.

you knew for a fact that the strange man before you wasn’t adam maitland, for the way he looked now didn’t match the pictures you saw in the newspapers at all, you swallowing thickly and slowly backing up against the attic door with your heart dropping straight down to your ass.

who the fuck was he? was he— was he a spirit? because if not there’s a random man literally just basking and relaxing inside the—

“relax! relax jeez you look like you’re about to vomit sweets.”

sweets?

“are you dead?!” you blurted, hand scrambling behind you for the doorknob. “are you— are you alive how are you—”

he laughed loudly and wiggled his little index finger— scrunching it up and down to elicit a ‘yes’ and finding your skittishness a little funny.

“yup! so dead very dead.”

“o— oh… okay...” you spoke softly, tense shoulders gradually relaxing as you gave him a small timid smile, relieved that he wasn’t a freaking squatter and doing god knows what up in the attic.

“you seem happier to see a dead man rather than a live one...” he looked at you amusedly. “you like ghosts? scary stuff? haunted houses? handsome me?—”

you nearly choked on your spit at his last comment, an awkward smile wobbling across your face as you played with your fingers.

“i— i um..” you looked around, your eyes catching a book titled ‘handbook for the recently deceased’ sitting neatly on a dusty table by the door. “you could say that.. but—”

you hesitated, the man’s head tilting to the side as he waited for you to continue.

“but what pretty?”

you blushed furiously, never having met a spirit so forward before.

“sorry but— how did you end up here?” you stood on your tippy toes to peer over his shoulders and around the attic. “and where are the maitlands?”

“oh, those lousy goodie two shoed meanies?” he mumbled, pouting and bitter as he crossed his arms. “beats me..”

you laughed a little, guard slowly coming down as he didn’t seem or feel like a bad person to you, and you thought that perhaps he was in the same boat as the maitlands and was just trying to find his way to the other side.

“why are they meanies?” you smiled, and he reciprocated, arms falling to his sides.

“well— i’m kind of being held in the attic against my will by the— holy shit wait!”

he threw his hands out in front of him and took quick stride full steps towards you, a wild excited expression on his face and you stiffening up again, backing up against the door.

“you can help me!”

“help… you..?” you squeaked.

he vigorously nodded. “yeah! the butthead caseworkers down in the netherworld banned me from leaving the attic… but you can give me a little leg room in my contract sweets!”

netherworld— caseworkers— banned—

“huh?!” you exclaimed, brows furrowed and utterly confused at everything he was fucking saying.

you’ve only ever seen spirits from afar or casually talked to them about something fleeting before they went on their marry way, but never in your life have you met such a complex soul that was so animate and asking you for a favor straight off the bat… as spirits usually just— knew what they were doing and eventually figured out how to get to the great beyond.

so the subject of caseworkers and the netherworld and whatever the fuck else he was rambling on about was something you were not familiar with.

“i did something they didn’t like.” he gave you a boyish half smile. “so they did some ritual thing and now i can’t leave the attic.”

you frowned. “why would they do that? what did you do?”

he waved you off and swung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you forward with him towards a huge 3D model in the center of the room that you barely just noticed— intricate and detailed and colorful as your brain put two and two together and figured out that it was a model of the entire city of winter river.

“don’t worry about it! but i overheard juno telling her assistants not to say my name three times or else i’ll be let out to roam around the house—”

juno? who’s juno?

“—and that’s why i really need you sweets because i’m dying in this fucking attic… way more than i already am.”

you blinked at him. “i’ve never— i’ve seen spirits all my life and i’ve never had any of them tell me about caseworkers? and juno? who’s juno?”

“the rule is that the land of the living isn’t supposed to know.” he pursed his lips and dropped his arm from your shoulders, picking up the book that you had spotted earlier and passing it to you. “says it in the handbook.”

you timidly took it from him and flittered through the pages, old and crinkly and a little worn out as the gist of the pages you saw was a guide for those beginning their post-livelihood and the steps they needed to do so— from waiting rooms in the netherworld to being assigned a caseworker to help you out to the great beyond and so forth, your eyes falling on a particular page and catching specific line.

‘live people ignore the strange and unusual.’

they do. wrongfully they do.

and since people had been ignoring you out of fear your whole life… did that mean you were strange and unusual too?

“what?” the unknown man spoke, softly as his blue gaze switched between your solemn expression and the book, shifting his position to stand right next to you and see what you were looking at.

“oh sorry!” you laughed it off, closing the book and placing it down. “nothing i was just—”

“‘live people ignore the strange and unusual?’” he repeated. “what about it?”

you shook your head and sent him a small smile. “nothing! i was just looking—”

“just because you can see spirits doesn’t mean you’re strange or unusual.”

you stilled, eyes big as you watched the way he froze up over what he said, sheepishly relaxing after a moment and lifting an arm to pat over your head.

“sorry pretty. i can read and manipulate minds and i poked in yours...” he looked at you apologetically. “it’s another reason why they threw me in this shit hole.”

he dropped his hand then, a sincere glint in his eyes. “but i mean it.”

“i don’t know…” you mumbled, looking down and playing with the hem of your skirt. “i’ve never really had friends because of it… and i feel like that book kind of confirmed what i’ve been thinking.”

you quickly picked your head up. “oh but— it’s okay! i’m okay i’m used to it spirits are nicer anyways and i’ve always been alone so—”

“that’s not true.” he mumbled.

your brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

he funnily froze up again. “what do i mean what?”

“what’s not true?”

“oh! that— that spirits are nicer!” he quickly sputtered. “they’re assholes. all of them. every single one. including me!”

you giggled at his franticness and a smile spread across his face at that, endearing as he watched you slowly cheer up.

“people’s ignorance doesn’t define who you are sweets.” he spoke gently. “so don’t give them that right. you look perfectly fine to me!”

your eyes softened, wondering what the hell this man did that made the caseworkers down in the netherworld ritual him into a contract, as you were convinced it wasn’t even that bad at all and just straight up unfair, him being one of the kindest and silliest souls you’ve probably ever had the privilege to come across.

“i’ll help you.”

his eyes snapped to yours. “huh?”

“i’ll help you!” you spoke sweetly. “i’ll say your name three times so you can leave the attic.”

“wha— really?!” he exclaimed excitedly, hands animatedly flying everywhere as they went from digging into his white locks to all over his suit and then thrown out to grip over your shoulders, shaking you as you giggled again. “holy shit will you actually?!”

“yeah! why not?” you grinned. “i don’t think it’s right that you’re stuck up here all alone.”

“angel! angel! you’re an angel!” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and stuffed your face into his chest, squishing you so fucking tight and honestly holding you way longer than he should’ve, but you not minding one tiny bit as you hugged him back and smoothed a comforting friendly hand over his broad shoulders.

“what’s your name then?” you muffled against his suit. “so i can—”

“ahhh fuck.” he muttered. “i forgot about one thing.”

you pulled back a little. “hm?”

“i can’t tell you my name.”

“what?” you looked at him confusedly. “what do you mean? why not?”

“it’s part of the stupid contract sweets...” he sighed heavily. “but i can give you clues! ooo!— like charades! ready?”

“oh! o—okay!” you nodded, him finally letting you go and stepping back.

“don’t freak out.” he grinned in a silly way. “i’m about to make things show up.”

your eyebrows furrowed. “make things show up?”

he waved his hand and a life sized fucking black bug appeared out of nowhere, landing on one of the old wooden rocking chairs in the corner of the room as it wiggled its little legs and peered around, you screaming and flying behind the strange blue eyed man while he laughed loudly and looked over his shoulders for you.

“it’s okay! just a figment of your imagination is all.” he cheesed. “but guess now!”

“guess what?!” you shrieked.

“what that is!” he pointed to the bug.

you peeked an eye out from his side, the bug still gross and horrifying as it wiggled it’s antennas.

“a bug!”

“what kind?”

“a beetle!”

“yes!” he nodded vigorously. “okay that’s the first part!”

“your name starts with beetle?!—”

he waved his hand again and the bug disappeared, a carton of orange juice replacing it instead and floating in mid air, a shiny glass cup next to it as you amazedly watched it pour its bright orange contents into the cup without spilling a single drop.

“…orange juice?” you spoke softly, timidly coming around from behind him. “your names beetle orange juice?”

“not quite!” he made a drinking motion with his hand.

“beetle drinking orange juice?”

he laughed. “no! you’re adding too many words pretty take some out.”

“beetle drinking juice?”

“nope.”

“beetle drinking orange?”

“colder.”

“beetlejuice?—”

“yes!” he threw his hands out, eyes wild and excited. “yes that! and you’ve already said it once now just two more times—”

“beetlejuice.”

“uh huh uh huh—”

“beetle— mmph!”

a pair of hands clasped over your mouth from behind you and pulled you back, you letting out a muffled scream as you thrashed and quickly pried their fingers away, you spinning around and fully expecting to see rin behind you with a shit eating grin and laughing in your face for scaring you.

except it wasn’t rin.

it was the maitlands.

“don’t say his name honey.” barbara spoke first. “trust me… don’t.”

“i mean— are we sure about this sweetheart?” adam looked at his wife. “maybe he isn’t all that bad… hell we don’t even know for sure—”

barbara shook her head. “adam, did you not hear a word juno said? he was about to take advantage of that poor girl!”

take advantage?

you heard a scoff behind you and you turned around, a disgruntled and pissed off look on beetlejuice’s face as he crossed his arms.

“jeez i know you don’t like me but that’s low.” he mumbled. “i wouldn’t do something like that.”

your head turned back to barbara. “you know who juno is?”

she nodded. “juno’s our caseworker… we got assigned to her in the netherworld after we died.”

“took us three months waiting in the waiting room until she finally got to us.” adam added, chuckling in humorous disbelief. “but all she really did was nag at us and warn us about him.”

adam pointed behind you and you turned around again, beetlejuice bitterly looking to the side with his lips pursed.

oh god.

had he been feeding you nonsense this entire time?

“warn about what.” you mumbled, and beetlejuice snapped his head in your direction with anxious eyes.

“juno calls him a bio-exorcist.” barbara informed you. “he tried to illegally cross over to the land of the living and bring himself back to life.”

your eyes bulged open. “back to life? how?”

“you switch souls with someone else through a ritual.” adam piped in. “juno says he attempted to trick and switch souls with somebody that was alive so he could terminate all who were living… and they didn’t even know about it.”

“that’s not true!” beetlejuice countered, utterly exasperated. “the old hag made that up!”

he quickly walked towards you, taking your hands in his and looking at you pleadingly.

“please sweets you’ve gotta believe me i never wanted to kill anybody—”

you ripped your hands away and glared. “so this entire time you’ve been lying, playing some hopeless victim so you can poke into my head and find out shit about me to use to your advantage?—”

“no! no i— i haven’t been lying about anything it’s juno!”

“juno.” you repeated coldly. “and what’s she lying about exactly.”

“about killing the living!” he threw his hands out in emphasis. “she literally pulled that out of her ass when her and her minions banned me—”

“and what about tricking that person to switch souls with you so you can come back?”

he faltered, words completely failing him and guilty eyes looking into yours so deeply that it nearly made you feel bad for yelling at him.

“that’s… that’s true.”

you let out a breath of disbelief and barbara put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently and comfortingly as she looked at you with caring eyes.

“we don’t know what to believe either honey.” she began. “it’s a lot of he said she said… but it’s better to be safe. he tried to get us to say his name three times too in exchange for his help.”

you quirked a brow. “help? what do you guys need help with?”

“your buddies downstairs.” adam sighed. “they’re stealing our things and just messing up the house… but we’ve been watching you and we know you’ve been trying to get them out and so have we… horrendously though.”

“oh my god—” you slapped a hand over your gaping mouth. “i totally forgot about them! i’m so so sorry oh my god i can’t even begin to explain to you how embarrassing this is i’ve been telling them to stop—”

barbara laughed and waved you off. “it’s alright! we know sweetheart. but we’re not frightening enough to scare them off whatsoever… so that’s what we were trying to get his help for.”

“and i still can y’know…” he muttered. “even though you hate me.”

“i don’t hate you juno does.” she crossed her arms and leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “adam and i are lost we don’t know what’s going on and we can’t even read that thing for the recently deceased.”

“we’re just trying to get them out of the house son…” adam finished off.

and in that moment you felt like you were the one responsible for this. that if you had bitched about it harder, even screamed at rin to get him to stop or damn near called the fucking cops on them so that this wouldn’t be happening right now… the maitlands wouldn’t have to suffer and struggle like this every waking day to protect their home and what rightfully still belonged to them even after death.

because the maitland’s roaming around and producing shadows and figures and scaring the realtors and prospected buyers off wasn’t just for shits and giggles… but to try and keep what was once theirs and feel a sense of normalcy for the life they once had.

that was their great beyond. their home.

“i’ll get them to leave.” you smiled at barbara and adam. “i don’t care if i literally have to start fist fighting with his friends this is so unfair—”

“wait! are— are you sure sweets?” beetlejuice interjected worriedly. “your boyfriend’s kind of nuts and i can’t help you once you leave the attic—”

“i’m sure.” you mumbled, still bitter and annoyed at him. “can’t be anymore nuts than you basically trying to kill someone so you can prance around alive again—”

“i already apologized to the entire netherworld nation for that!” he argued. “but if you ask me, if it’s so bad then they shouldn’t have put the fucking instructions in the guidebook.”

“juno says guidebook reveals to you what you want most.” adam spoke. “because barb and i didn’t see a single page that had to do with that… mostly just tips on how to scare the living.”

beetlejuice closed his eyes exhaustedly and shook his head. “doesn’t matter. i’m not trying to trick anyone right now i just want to get out of this damn attic—”

he looked to you again. “—please say my name three times pretty i’ve poked in your boyfriends head and he’s looney i don’t want you to—”

“i’ll see you guys in a sec!” you walked over to the door and left a sputtering frustrated beetlejuice behind. “if nothing works i’ll literally just take my boyfriends keys and drive the car down the hill, he freaks over that thing—”

your voice trailed off as you walked down the creaky stairs of the attic and down the hall of the second floor, the maitlands main bedroom coming into view as you tried to get a script together in your head as to what exactly you were gonna tell rin… but your footsteps quickening at the sound of loud yelling and laughing coming from inside the bedroom, sounds of glass shattering and moving furniture making you panic as you practically stumbled in from the doorway.

and your heart stopped, rin standing there with a crow bar in his hands that he got from who the fuck knows where, smashing multiple vases and porcelain jewelry cases and stuffing his pockets full of anything that looked shiny and valuable in his eyes, the mattress and blankets thrown over to the side and the mainland’s things just completely ransacked as you took it all in.

“rin!”

he jumped and spun around, brows pinching upon seeing you standing there.

“what are you doing here? i thought you left?”

“what the fuck?!” you gestured to the broken shards on the floor and strewn about articles of clothing. “what the hell is wrong with you?!”

“calm down babe it’s fine.” he turned and smashed another small jewelry case, you scoffing in response. “it’s all useless shit that’s gonna dust over—”

“get out.”

he snorted. “uh huh—”

“i’m serious rin get out.” you spat. “all of you.”

“yeah like i’d listen to you.” he spoke harshly, eyes narrowed and sharp as he turned again. “go wait in the fucking car or go home—”

“i’m calling the cops.”

“what?!”

a series of protests and worrisome comments erupted in the air from the group, all thrown directly at a fuming rin as he chucked his crow bar to the side— it clattering on the wooden floor as he hastily trudged over to you and gripped your upper arm, yanking you with him and out of the room into the hallway by the stairs.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing huh?” he spoke lowly and in your face. “embarrassing me in front of my friends like that?”

you shoved him off. “get out and find another building or i’m calling the cops rin.”

“yeah and if you do that i’m telling them you’re a shitty psychic medium so they can throw you in the shrink.”

your jaw dropped.

rin was being meaner than usual.

“why are you like this.” you mumbled. “i don’t even know why i’m still with you you’re an asshole and you’re pathetic—”

he got in your face again and grabbed your jaw, pressing you up against the railing of the staircase and damn near throwing you over as the edge of it dug into your lower back, your fingers gripping his arm and struggling to pull him away from you while his friends quietly gasped and silently watched in shock.

“pathetic? me?” he laughed humorously. “you’re the one who doesn’t have anything or anyone besides me and yet you still treat me like this you ungrateful bitch—”

“rin okay that’s enough dude let her go—”

“you wanna shut up? or do you wanna trade spots with her?” his fiery crazed eyes switched over to his friend, him only cowering under rin’s intense stare and shaking his head no, diverting his gaze and you still squirming and tugging for your freedom.

“get— off me—”

“or what?” he pushed you further back and your breath hitched, your feet off the ground now at this point as one of your hands shot out to grip the railing for support. “you gonna call your ghost friends for help? go ahead i wanna see you do it you lying—”

“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!”

a thunderous roar broke out into the air, actual lightning and black smokey fog spreading over the ceiling and around you as rin instantly let you go and looked around, all of his friends in a pure state of fear and alarm as they lost sight of each other amongst the suffocating mist— including you as you frantically tried to look for a clear path out, unable to decide if you regretted what you had just done.

“never seen a man with such a power trip!” a booming voice echoed through the house that you quickly recognized to be beetlejuice’s, the walls vibrating with each word. “seems to me like it’s all bark and no bite!”

“what did you do y/n?!” you heard rin’s distant yelling from somewhere you couldn’t pinpoint, the air cold and prickling at your skin. “who did you call?!”

“a god!” beetlejuice excitedly answered. “achilles preferably! wait actually he’s a demigod not a—”

“who the fuck is achilles?!”

the air cleared in the center suddenly and revealed a petrified rin, wide eyed and angry as he whipped his head around to try and figure out what was going on.

“you don’t know who achilles is?” half of beetlejuice popped out of nowhere from above the fog and his friends screamed at the mere size of him, for he wasn’t the normal looking man you saw before but a borderline monster— huge and crazed as he looked down at rin in particular with a scary grin.

but his eyes were still a fascinating sparkling blue, oddly familiar in a way as you watched the scene before you through the black air, beetlejuice continuing.

“read a book your stupid is showing.”

he lunged while simultaneously popping his eyeballs out of their sockets with his tongue out, cartoonish and terrifying as his friends yelled for help and scrambled to try and leave, struggling though the smothering mist as you placed a hand over your mouth in shock.

beetlejuice sucked his eyeballs back in and blinked to adjust. “what? you guys scared too? shouldn’t have been so mean to my little sweets over there then!”

they all looked to you and you froze, rin’s gaze narrowing.

“his little sweets?” he clenched his jaw. “the hells he talking about?”

beetlejuice didn’t know why rin was so dumb for even attempting at getting near you again after everything he did and said— his footsteps quick and stompy towards you until he straight up smacked into an invisible wall and doubled back with a hand over his nose, your brows pinching in confusion.

you timidly reached a hand out, expecting your fingers to touch an invisible barrier except there wasn’t one at all as they fell through completely over nothing, your arm slowly retracting back to your chest.

you looked up at beetlejuice’s huge figure, and he gave you a bright cute smile that made your cheeks heat up.

“this is bullshit!” rin roared, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand and pointing at you after. “you’re a goddamn nutcase y/n! what kind of show are you putting on huh?!”

“me?!” you shot back. “maybe you should stop being a dick for once in your life and listen when i tell you things you idiot.”

“yup!” beetlejuice quipped. “doll if you’re still with him after all of this i’m gonna have to start haunting you in your dreams.”

your gaze switched to beetlejuice and you laughed, a little glint to his eye as he watched you shake your pretty head.

“i was gonna dump him the minute i got him out of the house—”

“what?!” rin barked. “dump me? for what?!”

you scoffed. “are you serious? what do you mean for what?”

“fuck— babe okay i’m sorry alright? i’m sorry i’m just a little overwhelmed right now—”

“you’re a sack of shit.” beetlejuice spat. “and call her babe again and i’ll start the engine of your car and ram it through a tree.”

you snickered and rin swiveled around to face him.

“why don’t you stay out of this freak and leave my girlfriend alone—”

“sweets i’ll make him go away if you marry me.”

you choked, flustered and stiff as you looked at him, bewildered out of your mind.

“huh?!”

“pretty pleeaaseee.” he dragged. “you saying my name got me out of the attic but not the house itself… but if you marry me i’m a free man!”

“how does that—” you let out a shocked breath. “how does that even make sense—”

“marry me.”

“but i!—”

“marry me that’s my condition.”

“hold on!—”

rin dove at you with the full intention to grab you and pull you away, but eyes widening in terror as an invisible force practically grabbed his ankle and sweeped him back and away from you, dragging his body across the wooden floor and over to beetlejuice, his friends having enough of all of this and making a run for it down the stairs.

“oh! i almost forgot about you guys!”

beetlejuice nudged his head and they were sent flying back just like rin, all of them screaming and pleading for mercy as their bodies dragged across the floor and returned to him.

“which of you should i gobble up right now… i’m feeling the one on the far right! he’s trembling like a little leaf—”

“please no!” he cried. “i’ll— i’ll do anything! i’ll leave i’ll never—”

“—and i’ll save rin for the very end… best for last right?!”

they all wailed and clawed at the foggy air, your body unmoving as you tried to figure out if beetlejuice was actually being serious.

“please man!—”

“i’m sorry i’m so sorry!—”

“don’t apologize to me you doofuses.” another invisible force grabbed them all by the ankles and pulled them up, dangling them upside down. “apologize to her. then maybe i’ll spare you… how’s that sound?!”

“y/n! please! i’m sorry—”

“we’re sorry dear god!—”

“y/n!—”

“put— put them down!” you wavered. “that’s enough it’s okay! jesus..”

“awww already?!” beetlejuice pouted. “but i haven’t even started swinging them around yet… like a little ferris wheel! heh.”

you slapped a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh once rin and his friends started wailing in fear again, you shaking your head and smiling at him.

“it’s okay! next time! just let them go i’m sure they’ll run—”

“y/n, it seems like you understand me… you’re the only one that hasn’t bitten my head off in the entire three years that i’ve been dead!”

you laughed again. “i’m glad! now put them down please—“

“so be my wife then.”

“beetlejuice!”

“what?!” he whined. “you don’t wanna be my lawful wedded wife?”

“no!— well— just—”

“is it because i’m dead?”

“put them down and i’ll consider it!”

“yes ma’am!”

the invisible force dropped them and they slammed against the hardwood floors, each and every single one of them fumbling to get their things that flew out of their pockets while upside down and scurrying away, hurried footsteps stomping down the staircase as they tripped over their feet to get to and out the front door, you observing in amusement and slight guilt, leaning over the edge of the staircase to watch them go.

and the second that they did, the stuffy black fog lifted and felt immensely lighter, it dispersing into the air above you as it thinned out to a mere silly mist, cold and wet to the touch and similar to the air you’d feel after a long days worth of rainfall and cloudy weather, slow strides coming up from behind you as you saw beetlejuice’s shiny raven leather dress shoes out of the corner of your eye, you standing upright and turning to him.

he smiled warmly at you.

“thank you.” you grinned, bashful as he reached and fixed up your hair— hands smoothing over your head and down before his fingers lightly grazed and played with the ends of your strands.

“you’re welcome.” he murmured. “thank you for getting me out of the attic sweets!”

you kindly nodded.

“sweetheart, are you alright?”

you looked back and saw the maitlands, barbara walking up with outstretched arms and pulling you in for a hug.

“that boy was insane!” she pulled back and held you out at an arms length by the shoulders. “we tried so hard to intervene while he was yelling at you but we’re useless… they couldn’t see us.”

you giggled. “no it’s okay! really you didn’t need to i wouldn’t ever wanna put you guys in that position.”

“honey— he almost pushed you off the railing…” adam spoke softly. “if you hadn’t called for beetlejuice lord knows what he would’ve done… he was so aggressive and we were worried…”

your heart warmed, never in your life having been so cared for and looked after— funnily enough that you were receiving that sacred feeling from beings that were dead rather than living and it reminding you a little bit of the way your parents were with you when you were young, when they were still alive.

“we’re sorry for being so hard on you kid…” barbara sighed, gaze shifting to beetlejuice. “mistakes happen. i’m sure your passing was something you weren’t expecting like us.”

“oh! no it’s okay don’t.” he smiled brightly. “i almost killed a man i understand.”

“but we understand too.” adam added, and you felt like he was also referring to something you had no clue about as he had a particular look in his eyes, something that was only amongst them three. “i would’ve considered the same.”

beetlejuice swung an arm around your shoulders and looked down at you.

“so are you my little wife?”

“okay—” barbara laughed. “not that you know this—”

“adam! barbara!”

a sudden shriek boomed through the house and beetlejuice instantly pulled you behind him, waving his hand and an invisible force sending you further away until your back gently bumped against the wall, panic rising in your chest as the same black fog from earlier returned and swirled around you, blocking your vision.

was he… was he hiding you? what for?

“juno!” beetlejuice greeted, laughing awkwardly. “heyy long time no see!”

oh.

“zip it bozo.”

from the cracks and openings that you could see through the whirling wind, a proper old lady in professional office attire stood there with her arms crossed, a pissed off look on her face as she tapped her heel against the floor and played with the pearls around her neck.

“what did i tell you two about letting him free?” she scolded. “he’s a loose cannon! he’s not to be trusted!”

“i know i know we’re sorry… we just really needed to get those kids out! and they’re gone! and beetlejuice seems alright!” barbara looked to her husband, a desperate flicker in her gaze. “right adam?”

“yes! uh uh!” adam stepped forward and sighed softly. “please juno… he’s just a kid. he’s learned and what he did was three years ago—”

“what he did could’ve cost me my job and set my entire office up in flames.” juno lectured, pointing her wrinkly finger at beetlejuice next. “you broke a million undead laws and have hundreds of violation codes on your record. your punishment was to stay in the attic for eternity.”

eternity?

oh god no.

“but now i’m gonna have to send you to live inside mr. maitland’s winter river model and you better stay there!”

“what?!” beetlejuice scoffed. “juno please there’s gotta be a way i can lift those violations?”

“i’m afraid there isn’t.” she seethed.

“pretty please?”

“no.”

“with a cherry on top?”

“absolutely not.”

“not even probation?—”

“not even probation! you’re gone!”

your eyes blew open as you watched juno extend an arm out and move it to the side, a bright white blinding light encasing her entire figure and you quickly pushed a hand through the black fog and grabbed the back of beetlejuice’s suit, everything around you scarily blurring out and disappearing and you squeezed your eyes shut, arms reaching out to wrap around his upper torso as you buried your face in his back.

you didn’t want him to go… not at all. and the thought of him stuck inside a model forever like that all alone terrified you.

you understood why he was punished in the first place, but why couldn’t juno just see that he was good? that all he was trying to do was come back to life and live? something many other souls would also kill for?

hadn’t he been punished enough already? he stood stuck in that attic for three god damn years straight with no means of escape whatsoever, and now he was shamefully being sent to live inside a styrofoam cardboard model that was far worse than that stupid attic, for now he couldn’t be seen by anyone even if he truly wanted to be.

had that not been enough? enough of a sign to reconsider his contract?

why couldn’t he just be given a second fucking chance—

“pretty?”

you opened your eyes, forehead quickly detaching from his back and looking up, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you worriedly from behind as he shifted his body a little in your hold to face you.

“what are you doing here i thought���” his surprised gaze shifted over to the way you were clutching onto him, and he relaxed, smiling a little.

“you grabbed me baby?”

“i—” you let him go and stepped back, your cheeks a vibrant pinky shade. “y—yeah…”

he turned around fully.

“why?”

“because—” you bit your bottom lip, peering cutely up at him.

“because i thought we were getting married…”

beetlejuice’s expression dropped and he stared at you wide eyed, his face reddening at your words.

“i don’t— i don’t understand—”

“what?” you giggled. “i thought you proposed to me earlier?”

“i did! yes i did!” he rapidly nodded. “but— but are you actually serious?”

you nodded. “mhm! i am!”

“you can say no sweets honestly it’s okay…”beetlejuice spoke softly with pinched brows. “i’ll cry myself to sleep and shrivel up but i can handle it don’t worry about me—”

you laughed and nudged his shoulder with yours. “i wanna marry you… i wanna set you free.”

you walked over to a little bench, the feeling of you stepping on rubber and glue a little weird under your feet as you sat down and smiled, gently patting the spot next to you.

“i’m not letting you stay here forever by yourself, not when you’ve been doing that already for years.” you murmured, him taking a seat next to you with a yearn-full but apprehensive face.

“you deserve to do the things you want to do and see the things you want to see…” you looked at him so sincerely and loving that he felt his undead heart throb. “… and if i can help you in anyway to get you there i don’t care what it is. i can’t think of anyone more deserving of freedom than you.”

“you’re so pure…” he softly took your hand, yours warm and pumping in comparison to his cold and stiff one. “you always have been.”

he stared at your hand still, his index finger delicately tracing over the faint markings of your working veins underneath your skin, trying to remember what they looked like on him when he was alive, and if they ever looked as precious as yours did.

beetlejuice raised your hand and kissed it, eliciting a fuzzy blush to your cheeks.

“i think we’re meant to be.”

you faltered slightly, for you felt a rush of deja vu hit you like a stifling wave.

“have we met?” you teasingly asked. “before you died?”

he laughed and shook his head.

you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, beetlejuice still tracing the lines and indentations of your hand before you spoke up again.

“i have a question.”

his content eyes switched to yours before they looked back down. “yes sweets?”

“is your name really beetlejuice?”

he weirdly stopped, and you quirked a brow.

“it’s…” he swallowed. “it’s not.”

“oh what the?” you paused, a little puzzled. “where did it come from?”

“juno.” he snickered. “the old hag said it fit how bizarre and stupid i was, so she put it in my contract.”

“oh my fucking god.” you mumbled. “why the hell would she do that? that’s cruel… you’ve already paid the price for what you did the least she could do is address you by your given name.”

beetlejuice laughed cutely, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you.

“that woman doesn’t care baby… so don’t sweat it.” he lifted a hand and ruffled your hair. “and if you ask me, she needs to retire immediately. like— yesterday. all she does is fucking nag at me and the rest of her damn clients.”

you giggled.

“so what’s your name then?”

“not important! now i say we figure out a way to get out of this rinky dink model—”

your eyes narrowed.

“why won’t you tell me your name?”

“—or maybe we should just stay and make ourselves at home!—”

“you won’t tell your soon to be wife your name?—”

“—oh! oh! i can manifest a little jacuzzi in the middle of the cemetery that’s neat—”

you slapped a hand over his mouth and he stopped, your pleading little eyes making him guiltily melt against your hold.

“your name.” you urged softly, lowering your hand and revealing a little frown that he had on his lips. “please.”

“i—” he blinked, utterly remorseful. “i can’t… i can’t tell you my name.”

your brows pinched. “why not? is part of your contract?”

“no— well yes.” he sighed deeply through his nose, and you wondered why he looked so… strained.

“it’s not their contract, but my contract… with you.”

you froze.

“with—” you struggled. “i don’t—”

he rubbed his tired sunken eyes.

“it’s okay sweets but that’s all you need to know—”

“no.” you replied firmly. “what i need to know is your name.”

he dropped his arms and shook his head desperately. “y/n please i put that contract on you to protect you if— if i tell you my name you’ll be hurt and i don’t want that—”

“what do you mean?” you bitterly scooched away from him on the bench and he stubbornly moved closer, eliminating the distance you had created.

“i lied when you asked me if we had met.”

your heart dropped.

“because we have… and i— i wanted you to forget me so i took away your memories and if i tell you my name—”

he swallowed hard.

“… it’ll break the contract. and you’ll remember me again.”

you stared at him, his regretful tortured gaze so anguishing that it was almost unbearable to watch him endure it, wanting to mend it instead, something that already felt so right and easy to you and in no way shape or form unfamiliar.

slowly, you reached up and cupped his cold cheeks in your hands, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

“but i want to remember you…” you murmured. “…please let me.”

his pupils worriedly shook as they darted all around your striking features, his name practically hanging off the edge of his tongue but his throat physically unable to get the words out, for his dead heart was pulling and fighting with his vocal chords to prevent him from doing so, everything within him wanting to save you from memories he had to live with even after death.

but the other part of him was filled with such intense longing for you that it effortlessly slipped between the cracks of his defensive wall of not telling you his name…the relentless feeling going straight to his heart and mind and strangling the fuck out of it to get a formidable yes instead.

he wanted the life he once had. more than anything.

“satoru.”

something snapped in your brain and you flinched back, memories flooding through your mind faster than the speed of light as you recollected each and every moment in your existence, for the sentiment of vacancy and like a specific thing was just missing in your life was finally put back in its rightful place— for the thing that was missing in particular was him.

satoru gojo.

there were images of meeting him when you were both itty bitty in middle school under a magnolia tree, him sporadic and silly and making you laugh so hard on the third day of school that strawberry milk blew out of your nose and all over his clothes, satoru not having a care in the world as he cackled along with you and thought the way you made liquid come out of your nose was cool.

and there were images of the both of you becoming the best of friends— never one without the other as you pulled pranks on your teachers and ended up in detention together almost everyday, your parents utterly done with you as you never seemed to get it through your head how to behave, the both of you brushing off your scoldings and lectures because you had each other to endure all of it with.

and you saw how much he cared about you.

how he would physically fight and yell and reprimand anyone who called you a freak, anyone who spread rumors about you and your psychic medium abilities as he constantly reminded you everyday that your gift was sacred… a treasure while he wiped your tear stained cheeks and cheered you up after another day of your classmates poking fun at you, him saying that your skills were the coolest and how much he wished he was just like you, how much you both were meant to be as he loved ghost stories and scary stuff.

you saw how you fell in love too.

and it didn’t take long either, as your stolen glances and teasing turned into much more as soon as you grew and went to high school together, the both of you making it official literally your freshman year despite the apprehensions from your parents on both sides because of how young you were.

but it never proved to be an issue, you and satoru not once stumbling over a hiccup since the two of you had built such a strong foundation of genuine friendship and care before you blessedly fell in love, satoru throughout your years together absolutely smitten over you as he always passed you silly notes during class that had a gazillion hearts scribbled all across with your name in the middle, telling you all of the time just how much he loved and cherished you to the point where you had to funnily push him away from you to get him to stop smothering you, you always giving in anyways due to the fact that you were just as smitten, physically unable to go a day without him, and him still physically unable to not iterate how you were meant to be.

satoru understood you, satoru listened to you, and satoru believed you whenever you would speak on your psychic gift and how you had spoken casually to a spirit just the other day, him always interested and unbelievably amazed at everything you had to say as he bombarded you with fifty questions and begged you to teach him how to see spirits too.

he was respectful and supportive of you through it all.

especially when your parents died.

satoru wouldn’t leave your side. he refused to as you tried to piece together what the fuck had just happened, their accident so sudden and weird that it never made sense to you and still didn’t to this day.

and you grieved of course, cried and weeped and clung to satoru like a moth to a flame, feeling alone and without your biggest support system— without your loving peculiar parents that gave you your priceless gift in the first place, him accepting your tears with open arms as he encouraged you to let it all out and was worried for you when it seemed like you had moved on rather quickly from it.

but it was simply because your parents weren’t afraid of the afterlife. it was because your parents had talked so much about it and taught you everything that they knew, that you were convinced their souls peacefully made it through to the great beyond straight away and together, for you never saw their spirits roaming around aimlessly after and feeling eternally grateful for that, your whole life being about acknowledging and embracing the mysteries of life after death.

the knowledge of knowing they were at peace was enough to get you by for a little while.

satoru continued to check in on you about it though... even when it was the end of your junior year and nearing a year since their passing, his parents kindly taking you in after the ordeal and making satoru sleep on the floor and you taking over his bed since they didn’t have an extra room, satoru doing it without even needing to be told and you thanking all of them any chance you got for their amicable kindness and tried to pay them back, satoru checking in on you every night with a series of timid ‘are you okay’s’ and ‘are you happy’s’ before going to bed, your arm dangling off the edge so you could intertwine your fingers while you slept.

you were never alone like you thought you were. ever.

because of satoru.

and he made it obvious that he wanted to marry you too, that he wanted to have you for the rest of his life and didn’t give a single shit if you were both only 18 and barely starting college, him deeming it pointless for the both of you to pretend like the hope of marriage wasn’t there just for the sake of shutting up his parents, as every time he brought it up you stammered and blushed and fidgeted and he only giggled at you, telling you it would happen soon, to be ready, and to sit pretty and patient until the right time came.

except it never did.

because satoru gojo died a year later following that on halloween, precisely on his way over to your dorm when he was snatched by an unknown man and murdered in the middle of the night, you stuck wondering what had happened to him and why he wasn’t answering the phone when he was hours late to come get you, your chest on fire and aching as the feeling in your gut was weirdly excruciating, a part of you completely torn away and lost and you had no idea why until the very next morning.

and he had to watch you mourn. properly this time and not at all like the way you did for your parents, as this time it was fucking worse, painfully and all alone and for no way for him to get to you and comfort you— to tell you it was okay to cry and that he loved you, to tell you to be happy, to be hopeful for the future and hopeful to the thought of spending the rest of your lives together and being meant to be.

but instead he had to watch you wail and scream in your pillow every night with no saving, clutching his clothes and things and picture frames, you making yourself sick as the grief was too much to bare— everything that your parents had said to you and taught you about the afterlife meaning absolutely jack shit as the workings of supposed fate took away the only thing that ever made you happy.

satoru’s dream was to live with you. and it was taken away from him so brutally that he went absolutely nuts in the netherworld.

because yes he violated every single fucking undead law in the book and jumped over restricted gates and strange passage ways and doors, shoved through emotionless security guards, ignored juno’s warnings, and yes he tricked a living human being so he could exchange souls with him—

all for the sole purpose of getting back to you.

it was always for you.

and now, him sitting next to you with an anxious waiting expression, your body and mind now feeling the effects of not having seen him for three entire years and the way your conscious mind grieved for him and his return, his skin sickishly pale and cold but still so handsome nonetheless… absolutely broke you.

it broke you as you let out a strangled hiccup and covered your mouth tightly with both hands, eyes squeezing painfully shut as you reeled over and wailed with a broken heart, for you were mourning the loss of him all over again.

“baby no please—” he quickly caught you and brought you to his chest, his breathing erratic and with the biggest lump in his throat. “see? i didn’t want you to remember i— i wanted you to forget—

you continued to bawl and borderline scream out in agony, his words meaning absolutely nothing at this moment as your mind wouldn’t quit flashing painful memories through your mind, memories that were once entirely missing as they suffocated you with displays of satoru in his grave over and over and over again.

“i can’t—” he frantically looked around for something, anything that would make you feel better before looking back down. “look at me—”

“why did you leave?!” you wailed, pushing him away as the sight of you drowning in your tears ripped him to shreds. “why did you abandon me toru?! why did you—”

“i’m sor—” his voice gave out and he placed a hand over his heart, tears slipping from his eyes. “i’m sorry i’m so sorry i— i never wanted to leave—”

he reached out and tugged you in again, your body slumping against his as he struggled over his sobs.

“i didn’t want to die i tried so hard not to die—”

his words only made you cry harder as he gripped you tighter and shut his mouth, his frame trembling against yours and his tears trickling down and wetting your hair.

“you left me! you were supposed to come— hic— to come get me! you were supposed to marry me!—”

you were babbling mindlessly at this point, your shattered heart taking over the words that were tumbling out of your mouth as you gripped and clawed at his suit, trying to bury yourself in his skin and stay there where you belonged.

he was too cold. and you couldn’t hear a heart beat.

satoru could only cry and bawl with you as he gently rocked you side to side, knowing that there was nothing he could do to make you feel better, and nothing he could do to come back to life.

no matter how much he wanted it.

no matter how much you wanted it.

this is what fate had decided for the two of you.

“i tried so hard.” he mumbled. “i never stopped trying to get to you that’s why juno hates me so much because i’ve violated fucking everything.”

he pressed his lips to your forehead and laid his cheek on it after.

“i got sent to the attic and i couldn’t look after you anymore and i didn’t even get the chance to let you see me either—”

besides the fact that he took your memories, that explained why you never saw his spirit after he died, and you quickly pulled back again and narrowed your bloodshot eyes at him.

“why did you take my memories i never— hic!— i never asked you to i never wanted—”

“because i didn’t want you to grieve over me pretty…” he gently wiped your cheeks while you cried. “you were hurting so much and it was torture watching you suffer like that.”

you sniffled and wiped your eyes with the base of your palm.

“i wanted to see you happy…” satoru finished off.

“was i?”

he dropped his hands and frowned.

“were you?”

“no!” you muttered. “my entire life i’ve felt like something was missing and i didn’t know why… like this— this block in my brain that i couldn’t figure out and it was always just empty and like something was supposed to be there.”

you tucked your hair behind your ear and solemnly looked down, a pulsing headache racking through you from how much you were crying.

“i had to live with the fact that i was alone and that i never had anyone… and i had accepted that too… only this entire time i did have someone. you.”

and oddly enough, through everything that happened— all of the memories that you now remembered and the devastating death of your late boyfriend, you finally felt a little bit less strange and unusual.

because you always thought that something was wrong with you for feeling the way that you did, for craving something— someone that never existed, for wanting to fill the void that you now know satoru once happily sat in, all of these things now officially clicking into place and bringing you the weirdest sense of peace you had probably ever felt.

“i wish you never made me forget.” you mumbled. “you’re worth remembering toru…. even if it hurts me.”

he guiltily nodded and sniffed. “m’sorry… i thought you were better off forgetting.”

a part of him still does, because the small glimpses he caught of you no longer crying and just simply living after he took your memories away, was enough to bring him a tiny sense of relief just before he got banished to the attic, hopeful that you would live a long and happy life even if it was painfully without him.

but the minute he sensed you coming up to the house earlier that night with him thinking he was going absolutely insane and if it was truly you, was also enough to send all of that out the fucking window and falling back into a pit of despair and longing for you when he finally saw you again— for the first time in three years, looking just as pretty as he remembered and a little more grown up.

you slowly shook your head side to side, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck and him immediately responding, snaking them around your waist and pulling your warm beating body flush against his chest.

“do you still love me?” he murmured. “even though i’m dead?”

you slightly snorted, softly kissing his cheek.

“i’ll always love you toru. wherever you are.”

“i’ll always love you.”

he pulled back and gently smiled, eyes flickering to your soft lips as he juggled in his mind if it was okay to kiss you, every fiber of his undead being begging for it after missing and wishing it for so long, left with only recollections of your kisses to suffice through the years that he spent without you and wondering if he still had the right to— since even though you were once his, and he shamelessly still considered you his, he didn’t know if you were on the same page.

but you were.

it would be stupid not to be.

you leaned your pretty little face closer to his, timid doe eyed gaze looking at him so fondly that it brought back that same familiar feeling he felt with you those years ago, his hands coming up and settling themselves on your warm lively cheeks, holding you like fragile porcelain.

but were his dead lips still worthy of yours? even after everything he’d done?

“toru.”

he hummed.

“do you remember our first kiss?”

“uh huh.” he breathed out softly. “it was in my room.”

“i think—” your nose brushed with his. “i think we should have our second first kiss.”

he bit his bottom lip and smiled.

“you think so?”

“i do.”

he hummed again, his thumb gently grazing over your plushy lips.

“i think it should look a little more like the first time.”

he tilted his head to the side a tiny bit and a delicate gust of wind brushed through your hair, your surroundings now completely and miraculously morphed into his room with the both of you sitting on his bed— just like how you remembered it and basically had grown up in as you slowly took in your surroundings.

“how the fuck—”

he laughed a little, lifting one hand and keeping the other still on your cheek, his index finger lightly tapping the center of your forehead.

“mind manipulation pretty.” he grinned. “cool huh? i poked in your head again.”

“yeah!” you giggled. “very cool.”

“you know what else would be cool?”

“what?”

“if you gave me a little kiss.”

you tilted your head to the side and leaned in again, your breath fanning across his face and your lips so close but not quite that it was fucking excruciating.

“you want a kiss toru?”

“uh huh.”

“how bad— mmph!—”

satoru didn’t even let you finish that sentence as he stuffed his tongue in your mouth greedily, wet and messy kisses smacking through the room as he cradled your jaw, cold lips delving all over yours and him giddy over the sensation of your warm mouth in comparison to his, your hands clutching his blazer and making out so sensually as you made up for the time that was stolen from you.

and the only thing the two of you felt in each others arms then was serenity— one pumping, working heart and the other stiff, unmoving and cold, still equally beating for one another even through the restrictions of death, for satoru’s heart continued to move and love you regardless of how lifeless it may have appeared.

he suddenly pulled away, breathless.

“sweets?”

“yeah?”

“where in the actual fuck did you meet rin?”

you laughed, pulling back a bit to look at him with a regretful look. “knowing what i know now, i’m sick to my stomach toru.”

“did you meet him after i died?”

you nodded. “he was in one of my literature classes… and since back then i only remembered living my life— alone, i guess he was the first person that didn’t make me feel that way. at the start.”

“lame.” he mumbled. “you cheated on me sweets.”

“no!” you laughed again, giving him a little pout. “he was awful. horrendous. and i only stayed because i didn’t wanna be alone again… even though i shouldn’t have.”

you leaned and gave him a soft tiny lingering peck.

“did you love him?” he murmured against your lips, and you shook your head.

“remembering you again made me realize what being in love with someone was supposed to feel like.” you reached and brushed through the front stands of his white hair mindlessly. “and it was no where near what i felt for rin. i didn’t feel anything for him actually.”

he pursed his lips to the side, eyes squinting in thought and distaste.

“hmmm…”

you giggled. “what toru?”

he hated that you got associated with a guy like that, and hated even more that rin was kissing and hugging and touching you whenever the fuck he wanted when you were his first.

“i’m gonna haunt him for the rest of his life.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and nudged him. “honestly? do it. he sucks.”

“and you know what else sweets?”

you quirked a little brow. “what?”

“i’m gonna make you forget!”

“toru!” you giggled. “no more taking memor—“

satoru leaned his face closer to yours and you froze up, wide eyed as a little mischevious glint in his vibrant blue gaze made you fidget.

he slowly grinned and tilted his head, lips coming closer to the side of your ear and tantalizingly hovering, arms snaking around your torso and pulling you up against him.

“did you let him touch you pretty?”

“t—touch?—”

“mhm.” he gripped you a little tighter. “did you?”

“um.” you squirmed a bit, your body turning hot in the matter of seconds. “what— what do you mean—”

“did you let him fuck you.”

your breath hitched and your cheeks went pink, hands timidly resting flat on his chest and feeling a little… guilty.

“maybe—” you paused, shaky breaths blowing through your nose. “maybe once—”

satoru shot up to stand and hauled you with him, a squeal slipping past your lips as he hiked you up and brought your legs around his waist, walking across the room in quick strides and plopping you down roughly on his desk, kicking away his chair and it slamming against the wall as it rolled back.

“toru?—”

“why can’t i make you forget… hm?” he grazed his lips from your jaw and up the side of your cheek, feather like as he squeezed and kneaded at your thighs, your heart fucking hammering against your chest.

“why would you wanna remember being with someone else other than me baby…”

“i— i don’t but you erased my memories—”

he pulled back and tutted, head shaking and fingers drumming against your thighs. “doesn’t matter! should’ve avoided them like the plague silly.”

you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him gently in.

“i would’ve if i remembered.”

“remember this remember that—” he smiled brightly and brought his face close to yours once more.

“y’know what?” he cutely pecked your lips. “i’m gonna help you remember something!”

your brows pinched momentarily in curiosity. “what?”

“that i’m the only man that ever gets to fuck you.”

satoru smashed his lips against yours and pulled you in tight, the bulge in his dress pants abundantly obvious as he grinded and rutted his aching cock on your clothed pussy, you gasping in his mouth at the feeling as you tried to keep up with his feverish fast kisses.

he slipped his icy hands underneath your top and you jumped at the change in temperature, satoru ravishing you up and obsessed with the heat your body produced and radiated, leaving him toasty for once and bringing a faux sense of life to him.

“did you forget that too?” he murmured against your lips, hands ever so slowly creeping up and sliding under your bra to grope your plump tits. “how i feel?”

“nuh uh.” you breathed out. “i didn’t—”

“tell me what you remember then sweets…”

he slid his hands back down and hiked your skirt up, you lifting your hips a little to help him bring it up as high as he possibly could, your pretty little panties tight and suffocating your pussy as his fingers came down to play with your swollen needy clit.

“i remember—” your mouth hung open, words lodging in your throat.

“hm?” he shoved his hand in your panties and your eyes fluttered closed, him placing open wet mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, your mind unable to grasp the amount of pleasure he was getting out with simply just his fingers, pleasure you missed so fucking badly as he slipped his digits up and down your folds.

“your dick—” satoru pushed two fingers inside of you and you whined. “i remember the way you felt.”

“yeah?” he pulled back from your chest and grinned, fingers squelching as they pumped in and out. “and how did i feel?”

“big.” you choked out, legs spreading wider as you gripped the edge of his desk, his frenzied lust filled eyes drinking in the way you unraveled and crumbled before him.

something he was positive rin didn’t even come fucking close to.

“aww.” he cooed, digits speeding up as you squealed and tried to close your legs, him prying them open again. “bet you missed the way i filled you full huh? stretched you out so good?”

you rapidly nodded, eyebrows contorted in ecstasy as your thighs shook.

“anything else you missed baby?”

arousal trickled down your folds at this point, making an absolute mess out of his fingers.

“your hands— heave— on my neck when you’d fuck me—”

a shiver ran down his spine at your words, his cock so fucking hard and aching as it begged him to let it spring free and bury itself in your hole.

“my god…” he whispered. “i bet your slutty little self wants me to fuck you right now right? stuff you up and make you cum on my dick like i used to?”

with each word your hole was clenching and screaming for his cock, your hands quickly shooting out to pull and unbuckle at his belt, him laughing as he continued to finger your pussy while loosening up the collar of his tie.

“you’re so needy.”

you pouted, embarrassed as you pulled your hands away and brattily tugged at his wrist to take his fingers out.

“i take it back—”

“no!” he quickly yanked his belt off and flung it, his fingers unzipping his pants and taking out his solid dick. “hell no please i need to be inside you—“

he lined his cock up and without warning pushed, your hands flying to grip his shoulders for support and crying out at the mere size of him, his dick icy in between your gummy walls that somehow added a whole new wave of pleasure for you.

“hard toru.” you whined. “please i can’t— i—”

“i know baby i know.” he gripped your hips and snapped his hips up, your moans fueling him as he plunged in your hole and took no time in fucking you in just the way he knew you liked it, proud of the fact that your pussy still took every single inch of him like he’d trained you— almost like she recognized whose dick was actually for you and not some other fucking morons.

“you’re not screwing anybody else anymore, you hear me sweets?” he tapped your cheek to get you to look at him, you completely dazed and fucked out as you tried to hold eye contact with him amidst his drilling cock. “should’ve only been me… living or dead i don’t care.”

you nodded dumbly, you leaning and kissing him sloppily and desperately that you muffled his next words, refusing to detach from his mouth.

“did you— mmph— let him cum inside?”

you didn’t answer, not because you were afraid to, but because his dick was silencing you as you hiccuped and spasmed with every slam of his hips, satoru a horny goner and pinning everything all on you even when it was literally his fault he erased your memories in the first place, fuming over the thought of you tainted by another man that he wanted to perform a full fucking cleanse.

he rammed inside of you faster against the desk as you separated from his lips and clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“don’t tell me you let him cum inside you little slut—”

“i didn’t!” you heaved. “i didn’t i didn’t—”

“good baby!” he cheered, a complete contrast to his menacing tone from seconds before. “so you do love me.”

“i do! i love you i love you i love yo—”

his unbeating heart soared.

“you love me?”

“uh— hic!— uh huh—“

“even when i’m dead?”

you nodded vigorously, feeling your orgasm starting to bubble up in your tummy as you choked and squirmed.

“perfect my sweet little thing…” he cooed once more, him literally lightheaded over the way you clenched around his cock. “make a mess all over me baby i’ve been dreaming of your cute cunt for three fucking years—”

you wrapped your arms around him by the neck again and moaned, burying your face in his neck as he placed two palms on your bent knees and spread your plushy thighs further apart, jack hammering you and so mean about it as you shook violently against him and came, heaves and sobs of pleasure racking through your body as he threw his head back and groaned.

“you want me to cum inside you?” he asked. “fill you up just like i used to?”

“yes! please please—”

“oh fucking well.”

he pulled out of you and your eyes bulged open, his dick shiny and covered in your juices as he grabbed your upper arm and yanked you down on your knees.

“you’re gonna suck me off and swallow what i give you for letting rin’s filthy hands on you.”

satoru tapped his dick against your cheek to get you to open up, you listening and opening your mouth as he shoved his cock inside and placed a hand on the back of your head, fucking your mouth as you choked and gagged on his length and loving every second of it.

“goooddd baby.” he whispered, your slobbering so nasty as he watched drool dribble down your chin. “so good…”

you gulped him down and lathered your tongue around while he used you, his balls swollen and twitching and him needing to dump his cum in your mouth for you to swallow.

“remember when we used to do this every night?” he smiled wickedly. “when i’d make you swallow me up?”

you hummed around him and tried to nod, eager for his release and wanting to show him that you in fact did remember— wanting it just as bad as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him harder.

“h— oh my god—” he fisted your hair and shivered, letting you take over and milk him for all his worth. “i’m gonna— jesus baby slow— slow down slow down— hah!”

satoru’s release shot to the back of your throat and you choked, blinking back tears as you gradually slowed your pace and continued to deliciously suck him through his orgasm and gulp down his cum, him with a death grip on the edge of his desk as he heaved and swallowed, hips jittery and twitching away from you— tip now overly sensitive.

you licked up the last of his cum and stood back up, shimming your skirt back down and satoru shakily stuffing his softened dick back in his pants and zipping it, eyes softening once you reached up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his over your waist and squeezing you gently.

“so you’re telling me.” you began. “that you haven’t had sex in three years and you fucked me like that?”

he snickered and smoothed a hand over your back. “it’s my instinct sweets! and also because i’m sure rin did a horrendous freaking job—”

you laughed and rolled your eyes, kissing his cheek before looking at him fully.

“i’m serious you know.”

he raised a brow. “about what?”

“about marrying you. even more so now.”

and just when he was about to pick you up and spin you around and jump up and down, he stilled— face sickishly paling more than it already was.

because satoru was keeping something else from you… a condition between the living and the dead and one he overlooked entirely because he was selfishly desperate for you and just wanted you with him again, like the way he had you when he was alive.

“what toru?”

“huh?” his eyes snapped to yours, and he quickly shook his head. “oh nothing nothing!”

his mind was frantically pushing it to the back, ignoring it and wanting to go through with the one thing he’d practically been dreaming of his entire living and dead life— marriage with you.

this was fine. this was okay.

right?

“white or black.”

you tilted your head. “what?”

“you’ll see… but choose!” he grinned. “white or black?”

a slow giddy smile grew on your face.

“black.”

satoru waved his hand and you stilled, the clothes on your skin changing and morphing into something completely anew, your eyes landing on his black and white button up suit now and head quickly dropping down to yourself— gasping once it registered in your flabbergasted brain.

you were wearing a black wedding gown, beautiful and classy as you picked up and felt the soft silk material between your fingertips, your tule sheer veil intricate as you looked behind you then— it long and stretching for what seemed like miles across the floor with gorgeous embroidery at the base of it.

it was heavenly.

your gaze snapped back to his, and he smiled fondly, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers.

“three times.” he murmured, and you picked up on what he was referring to, tightening your grip on his hand and nodding.

“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice.”

and the room spun around you, so astronomically fast that you almost doubled over in stifling nausea as the wind whipped through your hair and veil, expecting to land in the attic and finally outside that damn model when in reality, you were in a church cathedral as soon as your surroundings had stopped spinning… and one that looked exactly like the one in winter river.

“are we…” you looked around. “are we still in the model?”

he shook his head. “nope! i was focusing my mind here when you were saying my name… we’re in winter river baby.”

you smiled, the atmosphere around you soft and serene as the dimly lit candles around you quietly flickered, a random lilac colored hue across the cathedral and one you assumed was placed by satoru himself as he took your hands in his, almost in a haste too, but choosing to brush the observation aside.

this was wrong… and satoru knew it.

but he pushed it to the back of his head again.

“we are gathered here today—”

“shit!”

you jumped and whipped your head to the side, breathing out and shoulders relaxing once you saw it was just your church’s pastor that you’d known since birth— a strange far off look in his eye that you deemed to be something that satoru did, for there was no way he was up at the crack of fucking dawn right now to do a wedding.

“sorry!” you laughed. “is he… is he okay?”

“oh yeah he’s fine! he’s actually still sleeping.” he let go of one of your hands and patted the pastors head. “i’m manipulating his head for a little bit. just until you’re my wife.”

his wife.

you nodded, cheeks so warm as you tried to refrain from jumping over how excited you were at the thought of finally fulfilling the vows you had placed on each other when you were young— them now nurturing into something real.

“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the love of satoru gojo and y/n y/m in holy matrimony.”

he shouldn’t do this to you.

“today, they declare their intention to build a life together, sharing their joys and their challenges, and supporting one another in pursuit of their dreams.”

he can’t— he can’t build a life with you… can he?

he pushed his worries back again and gripped your hands tighter.

“do you, satoru gojo, take y/n y/m to be your lawfully wedded wife? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

this is wrong.

but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“i do.”

“and do you, y/n y/m, take satoru gojo to be your lawfully wedded husband? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

for as long as you both shall live.

satoru can’t live.

“i d—”

“stop.”

you froze.

“what?” you asked worriedly. “what’s wrong?”

“i’m no better than the man i was when i first died.”

the look in his eyes was… odd, and it only further confused you.

“i don’t—”

“i can’t let you marry me baby.”

your heart dropped.

“what?”

“i told you that if you married me it would break my contract and i would be a free man and that’s true…” he began. “but there’s something else that i didn’t tell you... i— i kept it from you.”

oh fuck.

“what are you talking about toru.” your voice was low and heedful, almost like a warning to him, and he wanted to slam his head against the wall for being so fucking reckless again.

“if you—” he breathed in and shook his head, letting go of your hands and letting his fall tight at his sides, balling up. “if you marry me, you’re freeing me…”

he gnawed at his lip.

“but i’m killing you.”

your blood ran cold and drained from your face, words entirely at a loss and useless as your brain tried to process what the fuck he just told you.

kill you?

“marrying me is like exchanging your soul with the dead.” satoru slowly shook his head. “you’ll die sweets… i can’t— i can’t do that to you.”

satoru was desperate to for you, so much so that he was willing to hide such a detrimental part of the marriage clause until the time came, choosing to play freaking stupid and tune it out in the hopes that in the end, he would be brave enough to go through with it just to keep you and not ever have to say goodbye again.

but it was wrong. so incredibly immoral and wrong and he felt like a monster for even trying to do it, for letting it go as far as it did and have you standing there in front of him in your pretty gown and veil— just like how he’d imagined it when his blood was pumping and his heart was beating, and just like how he’d imagined it even now, shriveled up dead veins and all.

this is what fate had chosen for the two of you.

and though it took forever for satoru to accept it… you and him were simply not meant to be.

for you were meant to live, and satoru was meant to die.

“you disgraceful bafoon! you insolent crook!���

the big doors of the cathedral kicked open and juno walked through, adam and barbara maitland running behind her and trying to pull her back, the both of them spouting reasonings and explanations.

“this is her choice juno!—”

“she wants to let her do it!—”

“the kid’s just in love!—”

“button it or i’m sending you back to the house!” juno grumbled at them, turning back around and pointing menacingly at satoru once she reached you both, her brittle old lady perfume wafting in your nostrils.

“juno!” satoru greeted with faux cheerfulness, eyes wide and alarmed. “good to see you hah! you look livelier than the last time i saw y—”

“what the hell do you think you’re doing boy?” she spat, eyes switching to you next. “and you! young lady— this man is a spirit!”

“i—i know—”

“juno they know each other.” barbara spoke up gently. “they grew up together when he was alive.”

“yes they were in a relationship this isn’t him trying to trick her into anything—”

“no but it is.” satoru exhaustedly whined, cutting adam off as he ran his hands through his snowy hair. “she didn’t know about the clause… i just told her now.”

silence.

“you didn’t tell her about the clause?!—”

“are you out of your mind you cockroach?!—”

“you’re doing what you did before!—”

“i know!” satoru exclaimed over the yells of scolding and belittlement. “i know i know that’s why i told her just now… i’m not letting her do it i— i couldn’t.”

he turned to you.

“baby i want you. i need you and that’s why i didn’t say anything like a fucking dingbat because i’m tired of living forever without you... it sucks.”

you felt tears prickle at your eyes.

“but this isn’t fair to you at all. you deserve to live man… i can’t— i won’t drag you down with me.”

“toru—”

“the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” juno interjected, her gaze looking at satoru sincerely for once that it was a strange sight for him.

she placed a hand on her chest. “i’m sorry that your love was separated by death, truly. i sympathize with you. i can’t think of anything more cruel.”

you both solemnly nodded.

“but the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” she repeated. “so even though you two move on from this and go back to being what you are, satoru will stay like this and you will not. you will grow.”

juno addressed you directly and you listened with a heavy heart— the use of satoru’s actual given name now from her instead of ‘beetlejuice’ adding a layer of somber seriousness.

“and let’s just say this clause didn’t exist and you get to marry her and she stays alive… satoru will still stay and you will grow. do you both understand what i’m trying to say?”

you quickly wiped the corner of your eyes, satoru peeking over at you sadly.

“i won’t tell you what i think the right choice is young lady.” she continued. “the dead aren’t even supposed to associate with the living like this… but weigh the consequences of either path and see which one you want to walk in.”

she stepped a bit closer, holding eye contact with you.

“but let me make one thing clear— the power of the living is greater than the dead. if you choose to marry him, you will break his contract forever and free him of his violations. but if you do, you will die and be one of us.”

either path is difficult.

to sacrifice his freedom, or to sacrifice your life?

but you knew that a life without satoru was nothing and bleak…. you had lived it for three years.

were you willing to return to that? just to keep your heart beating? and say goodbye to satoru for good?

you didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t have him in it. you didn’t want to live in a world where you remembered satoru for longer than you’d known him, and the thought only made you absolutely sick to your stomach as you envisioned the rest of your life without the person who knew you best.

it was almost easy… you didn’t have to weigh the consequences at all.

your path was satoru.

“we’re getting married.”

“what?!” satoru frantically shook his head. “no sweets no we’re not.”

“yes we are.” you pushed. “this isn’t for you to decide it’s my choice and i choose you—”

“and i’m not letting you.” he countered. “you’re choosing wrong so unbelievably wrong—”

“but i’m not though!” you argued. “literally explain to me right now how me stuck in a world that doesn’t have you in it is better than—”

“y/n you need to live.” he cut you off. “i died, not you it’s not supposed to be you alright? i can’t let you do this.”

tears slipped from your eyes and you wiped them right away.

“do you not— sniff— do you not want me do you want me to go away what—”

“no…” he stepped forward and cupped your cheeks. “that’s the last thing i want and you know that…”

“then why won’t you marry me?” you hiccuped. “why won’t you let me stay with you?”

“baby— life is so unbelievably precious.” he moved strands of your hair away from your face. “do you have any idea what i would give to have it again? to feel my body actually working for a change instead of it just being nothing?”

you continued to cry, your hands clutching his wrists.

“i don’t want you to take that away from yourself because of me… i want you breathing. i want your little heart pumping and your cheeks warm, i want you to move on.”

“i— hic!— i don’t want to move on from you—”

“you have to sweets.” he quickly wiped his eyes before cupping your cheeks again. “we’re not meant to be baby and i hate so much that we aren’t… and i’m sorry.”

“toru stop it—”

“please live for me okay? for the both of us. and don’t forget me either please don’t forget me—”

“why are you—” you harshly wiped your eyes. “why are you talking like that what are you doing—”

“i don’t think i should be around you anymore baby.”

“huh?!” your eyes narrowed. “are you serious?”

“satoru—”

juno raised a hand, stopping barbara from interjecting.

“it won’t be good for either of us if i stick around...” he sniffled. “i need to stay away from you because if i don’t, i might try to trick you again into giving up your soul and i can’t have that.”

“my soul?” you spat. “take it i don’t want it without you i told you already—”

“please try to understand.” he placed a soft kiss to your forehead. “please.”

“no—”

“i’ll see you soon okay?” satoru let go of your face. “graduate please. have kids and get married and stuff… travel.”

you were supposed to do all of that with him.

“satoru no listen to me!—”

“i love you.”

“stop!—”

satoru’s grief was monumental, but his love for you was greater, choosing to let you go for the sake of your life.

he looked to juno and she sighed through her nose, somehow knowing exactly what he was silently asking for, stepping forward and lifting a hand.

“satoru please i wanna stay with you!—”

juno sharply moved her hand to the side and you were pulled to a blinding white abyss, dream like and fuzzy as you felt all muscles in your body relax, your mind completely blank and free of the heartbreak and loss and sorrow for a little, floating through a cloud of soft serenity as it brought you in and tried to clear the pain in your heart.

you weren’t aware of where you were or what juno had done, but your thoughts were distant and muffled as you let it engulf you entirely in its welcoming arms, you sleepy and drowsy until the blinding white abyss slowly shrunk down to a pure black, quiet void, the nerves in your body twitching little by little until you were finally consciously aware of your limbs and mind, but you too tired still to open your eyes.

you cruelly dreamed of satoru still. of him alive.

and you weren’t sure how long you had been in this weird pit of tranquility, or how long you were asleep for until you were jerked awake and ripped from it entirely.

“hey— y/n?”

you shot awake, sitting up and whipping your head around.

you were back in your dorm.

“are you okay? why are you sleeping on the floor?”

you looked up, your roommate standing there with a weirded out expression.

“and what are you wearing?”

your gaze shifted downward, and the minute you saw your black wedding dress and veil folded neatly next to you, memories of what had happened hours prior came achingly flooding in as you scrambled to stand up on your feet, scaring your roommate and leaving her to grumble in her head about how she wished the system didn’t put her to room with the campus ghost girl.

“sorry! i have to go thank you though for waking me u—”

your voice trailed off down the hall, you running through and ignoring the weirded out looks from other students as you sprinted out of the building and down the street, engulfing the skirt of your gown up in your arms so you wouldn’t accidentally trip over it and eat shit on the ground, the goal of getting back to the maitland’s house the only thing on your mind as you ran.

your lungs burned by the time you got to the bottom of the hill, and you thanked anyone that was willing to listen for allowing winter river to exist as the smallest town you had ever known, sparing you from running a full fledged marathon just to get to the house as you heaved and tried to catch your breath, a little sweaty and hot as you began the hike up the hill.

you hoped he was there.. in the attic.

you hoped to god that he was.

reaching the top, you continued to trudge across the dirt driveway and up the porch steps, your foot lifting and just about to make contact with the old wooden platform until an invisible force grabbed your ankle and pulled you back, literally dragging you away from the house and down the hill over the grass as you screamed and thrashed for it to let you go.

satoru.

and you tried again, hiking up the hill with your bundled up wedding skirt in your arms, reaching the top faster than last time and choosing to run up the porch steps instead to see if you could outrun his ghostly abilities.

except you couldn’t, because the invisible force caught you by the ankle again just as your fingers grazed the doorknob, yanking you away and down the hill until it left you screaming and huffing in frustration at the bottom.

you continued to do that for the rest of the fucking day, and everyday for that matter, for an entire week straight.

walking up the hill, reaching the top, getting reeled back, running up the hill and getting sent back down again, sprinting for it only to get dragged away once more as the repeated cycle you had set for yourself happened over and over, until by your last attempt you couldn’t even walk up the hill anymore, satoru having put a huge invisible wall around the house that was impossible to get through.

you were angry. angry and bitter that he was doing this.

was it so bad to just want to spend the rest of your undying life with him? is that not what he wanted this entire time? why was he so adamant on damning you to live a life of suffering and— and loneliness? a life without him?

you didn’t know what to do. your psychic abilities were only for sensing the dead and being able to see them— nothing to do with calling forth spirits or summoning them at any given place and time, so there was no way for you to call satoru no matter how much you wanted to or tried.

and you cried. you cried and you sobbed just like how you did when he first died, except somehow worse knowing that there was a chance to be together with him forever and him not wanting it… not wanting you.

but you waited anyways, hoping that he would come around and change his mind, that he would bring down that stupid invisible wall and let you inside the house and back to him, counting down the days and hours and minutes until it became clearer to you that satoru wasn’t going to change his mind.

and by the third week, you had almost entirely given up.

you felt nothing. absolutely nothing as you slugged through your classes or your day to day errands, not giving a shit about anything that you had to do in this world for you had always loved the other world more— the world of spirits and the netherworld and the great beyond, the world that had satoru in it, as you appreciated and admired that one more ever since you were a kid with your parents… more than the one you were currently in— as this one was filled with ignorance and criticism.

you felt helpless… and maybe satoru was right.

if he was willing to give up an opportunity to keep you forever, then maybe that’s just the way it goes… maybe you should just accept it, and you choosing to think of the latter instead of begging and kneeling at nothing for satoru to come back and get you and marry you— was helping the bitterness in your heart grow and get you by, it at least stopping you from crying in the middle of your lectures or the grocery store and weirding people out anyways.

maybe you should accept the fact that you and him were not meant to be.

after an entire month, you had given up.

and satoru’s grave was the closest you knew you’d get to him, permanently divided by dirt and soil and grass… six feet under and totally out of your reach, his tombstone engraved and pretty and one you couldn’t believe you had forgotten about as it sat here alone for years right under your nose— you visiting it now for the millionth time as you placed your book bag down and sat criss crossed on the grass, mindlessly tugging and breaking off pieces of it as you sat there.

you sighed deeply and hugged your knees up to your chest, the day surprisingly a sunny one as chirping birds flittered past you through the wind, tiny little white butterflies occasionally stopping by to sit on your arm or satoru’s tombstone as you sat there in thought… not really sure what to think, but comforted by the fact that the engravings on his stone reminded you that he was once very much alive and real.

there was an odd wavering in your heart, and you had a feeling that this was going to be the last time you were visiting his grave, for you figured it was time to finally do what he wanted you to do— move on and forget him.

“don’t move on.”

you stiffened.

that voice… was your mind hallucinating now? jesus chri—

“don’t move on from me please… and— and don’t forget me. i take it all back.”

you heard footsteps draw nearer across the grass and you turned your head, eyes widening and unbelieving as you saw satoru standing there with a pleading anxious expression, him still dressed in his black and white suit that he had on for the wedding.

was it actually him?

“how are you…” you trailed off, your mind having difficulty processing how he was there. “how are you outside the house? i thought the contract—”

“juno gave me a hall pass…” he explained softly. “it expires at the end of the day.”

you hummed, itching to jump up and wrap your arms around him and cling to him, but stopping yourself from doing so as you still didn’t know why he was here, and you were quite frankly still bitter and hurt from him sending you away.

you slightly turned your body. “why are you here?”

“because i can’t stay away from you.”

your heart skipped a beat as he crouched down to your level, your eyes greedily running across every feature of his face and committing it to memory, as you now had him directly in front of you again instead of having to rely on recollections of him to try and mend your aching heart.

and satoru was doing the same.

“i started to sense you distancing from me and… and i had this feeling that you were starting to listen and move on and forget me and it made me fucking ill. which is crazy because i’m dead… but i was literally ill sweets.”

you let a tiny soft smile play at your lips.

“i can’t take it.” he spoke again, shaking his head. “i can’t take the thought of you forgetting me. not now, not ever, and i don’t know why i was stupid enough to try and convince myself that i could watch you do something like that even if its the right thing.”

“you sent me away.”

“i did baby…” he reached over and gently caressed your cheek. “and i regret that so fucking much. i’m sorry.”

“toru i need you to understand that you can’t make choices like that for me.”

“i know.” he mumbled and dropped his hand, eyes casting down. “i’m stupid.”

“but i also need you to understand, that i have no interest in living in a world that doesn’t have you in it… it’s not worth it now that you’re gone.”

you tilted your head to try and catch his gaze, continuing once his blue eyes flickered back to yours.

“i would die for you, and i would die without you. i look for you in everything that i do and you expecting me to just forget you is cruel.”

“no i don’t want you to forget me anym—”

“what’s life to you?” you asked him suddenly. “what does it feel to you? and mean?”

he stared at you with pinched brows, his face endearing but sad all at the same time.

“warm.” he murmured. “beautiful and… pure. it’s peaceful and it means you.”

your heart fluttered and you smiled, and satoru fell in love with you all over again— something you conquered when he was alive, and something you conquered again in death.

“that’s what life is toru.” you cupped his cheek. “to me it’s not— this.”

you gestured around you. “it’s not my body or my heart, it’s not the sun and it’s not breathing. it’s you. i feel life through you and i always have… because life doesn’t literally mean where i am now and neither does it mean the netherworld baby… it means you and me.”

satoru didn’t even realize he was crying until you wiped his cheeks, your words serving an entirely new perspective to him about the living and the dead and he felt peace.

because yes satoru was dead… but he was still living. living because he had you as the embodiment of it, and living because his soul still permitted him to see you again and be with you, to look at you with his own undead eyes and feel warmth like he did before.

but not literal warmth from your body or pumping blood or a beating heart.

but warmth from your soul. from who you are.

that’s what life was to him… and what life was to you.

satoru wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you to his chest, one hand on the back of your head as he cradled you and cried, finally now no longer mourning his past life like he’d been doing for the past three years, and no longer wishing for it back either or thinking that physically living in this world was the better option for you just because it meant you were breathing.

where he was, was just fine. and wherever you chose to go would be fine too.

but you chose to go with him, something that had been set since the moment you met under the magnolia tree back in middle school— living or dead, paris or italy, your choice would always and forever be him.

satoru proposed to you right then and there at his gravesite, flying to one knee as soon as you both stood back up and him manifesting the biggest diamond rock you had ever seen in your life, laughing and crying together as he slipped it over your ring finger, for your marriage meant the binding of the living and the dead, and the binding of you and him— a new beginning.

but this time your wedding wasn’t at the cathedral, but under the pretty magnolia tree where you had met, now accompanied by the maitlands as barbara cried, and juno as she herself officiated the wedding, you thinking— hoping that she grew a soft spot for satoru, and that behind her stern resting face, she was glad satoru was finally a free man and granted a second chance.

giving your soul up was nothing to you, and it didn’t hurt at all either… you feeling lighter in exchange actually… happy, with satoru standing in front of you and with a massive fucking grin on his face, shiny and bright as he practically jumped in his spot in excitement over you finally being his wife and that he got to keep you— and right this time… no lies or tricks or hidden secrets, but genuine authentic sacrifice instead, for it was the purest form of love.

because this is what fate had decided for the two of you.

it had decided that satoru gojo was meant to die… but it had also decided to bring you back to him as well— to the house of the maitlands, to the attic he was banished to, and back together again in each others cold arms where you belonged, defying the laws of the living and the dead and proving that life doesn’t end even after your hearts stopped beating.

fate had decided that you were both meant to be. that was always a fact.

and fate had decided that you and satoru gojo were meant to live, with unbeating hearts and icy cold skin, but souls still warm for each other nonetheless.

because through sickness and in health… death could not do you both apart.

you and satoru.

together for eternity.

a lovely and incredibly beautiful fanart of this fic can be found here by @courtneedsleep !! <33

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @saelov3 @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @stilettoheelz @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire @dee-writes-anime @megumisluciouslashes @peachyaeger @yourstru1y4ever @yoonights @skendos @babylambdietcoke @yunstarz @dinomdubs @kalulakunundrum @s777athv @sugoroo @wastednightsonyou @miri222 @jayawaya @dazailover4ever @courtneedsleep @kcch-ns @halovianembrace @tsukuhoe @kayamor @lupicalbestwolf @therealkurapikakurta @amarahi123 @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic

[brairslair]

just thinking abt relationship dynamics with the op boys <33

EVERYONE IS 18+ (minors dni)

a/n: currently have one piece brain rot and it is consuming me so here’s this! fem!reader and very suggestive + mentions sex, but no actual smut. NOT PROOFREAD 🙏🏻

don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, and follow to support my work! it always makes me day mwah

“of course i’m serious”

luffy:

in usual luffy fashion, one of your very first interactions ends with him trying to convince you to join his pirate crew

at first you’re hesitant, rightfully so, having just met the guy

however, you’re quickly persuaded by his happy-go-lucky personality and loyalty to his crew

after finally joining the crew yourself, your relationship with luffy gradually melts from just being friendly crew mates to being so close that you would put your life on the line for him at a moment’s notice

he seems to have that effect on people

while you grow close with all of the strawhats, your relationship with luffy is different

within a few months you already feel like you’ve known him your entire life

the two of you never have a dull moment together

while you love to entertain his antics, you also know when to stay level headed and keep him grounded

and while your work ethic is always valued on the ship, luffy can always get you to relax and have a good laugh when you need a break

eventually the two of you start to literally finish each other’s sentences, and it freaks everyone else out every time

you balance each other out perfectly

the two of you can talk and laugh for hours and not get tired of each other’s company

definitely tries to teach you a little portuguese but does not have the patience

you guys have friendship bracelets and he never takes his off

over the years, your relationship begins to grow from best friends to something more

you notice the shift far before luffy does

luffy picks up on little changes, like the weird tingly feeling he gets in his stomach when he makes you laugh

he doesn’t really think much of it though and brushes it off

probably assumes he’s just hungry…

in fact, luffy probably doesn’t really comprehend his feelings until someone spells it out for him, but in his head it doesn’t really change anything

you’ve always been his go to, and that won’t change now

the shift from platonic to romantic is gradual, natural, and if you ask robin, entirely inevitable

(she predicted this from the very beginning when the crew met you in your hometown)

he’s confident and honest with you in sharing the way he feels once he comes to the realization, and you allow him the same courtesy

he doesn’t feel any reason to hide or be embarrassed about his feelings

to him, being your boyfriend just means being your best friend except better because you get to hold hands and kiss and stuff

nothing is awkward when you start dating

it just feels right

he’s always been a very touchy person, even before you started dating

now that you’re together though, he loves cuddling

sleeping just isn’t as comfy anymore if he isn’t laying on you

definitely bites you sometimes and he says it’s because you’re so awesome that he doesn’t know what else to do with himself

he holds your hand all the time and likes to swing them back and forth when you walk together

he also likes to carry you on his shoulders because it makes you laugh

he doesn’t really use pet names for you often, if at all, but he really likes it when you use them for him

will, however, give you absolutely ridiculous nicknames that he finds cute

he has obviously never had a girlfriend before you

he wasn’t really concerned with romance or sex at all actually until you

you definitely have to teach him a lot

like what you’d like to do on dates

and how to kiss

luffy didn’t really understand the appeal of kissing, but you seemed to want to do it so he figured he’d give it a try

after kissing you for the first time he can’t get enough

definitely understands now

a super messy kisser (ofc)

gets giddy when you smile or laugh into his kisses

he smiles into your kisses a lot himself because he’s just so happy to be with you

you also have to teach him about the concept of pda and public etiquette, because otherwise he just does not care and will literally start making out with you in front of the entire crew simply because he wants to kiss you

sex is of course also very new to luffy, and like kissing, he does not understand the appeal until you test the waters with him and his mind is blown

he didn’t realize it would be so fun

it’s almost always sloppy, but he’s very attentive to your requests and desires

he takes in everything you teach him and improves upon it, because he loves making you happy more than anything

kind of a little shit sometimes though because he definitely overstimulates you without even realizing it

never intentionally mean though, but can be a huge tease entirely by accident

loves giving you pretty things he finds like rocks, shells, and any cool trinkets he finds laying around

he just gets so excited to share everything with you, and you’re always the first person he wants to talk to about everything

even if it seems as simple as finding a cool rock

other than sprinkling in more couple-y things, your relationship dynamic really does remain the same as it had always been, best friends

the two of you never take life too seriously, and just allow yourselves to enjoy each other’s company

luffy may not be the most “romantic” boyfriend in a traditional sense, but he will do absolutely anything to see you happy and safe, and you the same for him

he doesn’t need to do any grand gestures to give you butterflies in your stomach

you are each other’s safe space

the two of you said the L word to each other well before you became a couple, but the first time he says it romantically is when you personally cook a three course meal and bake him his favorite sweets to celebrate his birthday

saying those words to each other feels so natural that you almost don’t realize you hadn’t been saying it this whole time until now

will willingly share his food with you if you ask, which is genuinely mind blowing to everyone including yourself

if he proposes to you it will be super out of the blue and unplanned, completely catching you off guard

the two of you could just be talking, having a normal conversation, maybe getting some work done around the ship, when all of a sudden he’s just like

“hey, do you wanna get married?”

probably heard sanji talking about weddings or something and was like, oh! we’re in love, we should get married too!

obviously you can’t legally get married being pirates trying to slip under marine radar, so luffy has franky make you both simple rings out of pieces of sea glass you picked out

the rings have each other’s initials engraved into them

after that, the two of you consider yourselves married and the rest of the crew follows suit

not much changes in your relationship other than your titles

he’ll proudly tell people you’re his wife if you do something cool in a fight or someone asks about you or something

but even without a proposal or a ring, the two of you were always going to be forever

zoro:

when you first meet zoro, you see him as cocky, brazen, and extremely annoying

the two of you clash almost immediately

after luffy somehow manages to convince you to join the crew, the close proximity only makes it worse

the two of you are constantly at each other’s throats, taking any opportunity to push each other’s buttons

nami often jokes that “the two of you bicker like an old married couple”, which does not go over well with either of you

for months the two of you are rivals, making everything a competition to see who’s better than the other

however, after a while you begin to see zoro’s true colors through the cracks

his dedication to his craft, the respect he has for luffy, the kindness he tries to mask beneath a hardened exterior, and his absolute undying loyalty

it makes you begin to wonder why you began to dislike him in the first place

over time, your bickering becomes less venomous and more playful, bantering back and forth for the fun of it

you pick up new habits like sparring with zoro every day, telling him it’s because “the only way to beat your rival is to know his weaknesses”

or zoro waking you up at the crack of dawn to do laps around the deck because he heard you say you weren’t a morning person once, except he brings you coffee exactly the way you like it, every time

eventually your relationship snowballs into friendship

the two of you still bicker and banter, butting heads every once in a while

but now you also laugh at each other’s jokes

and sit together in comfortable silence just to be in each other’s presence

and eventually, you get to the point where the two of you can share your deepest, darkest secrets, fears, and desires, that nobody else is allowed to hear

he makes you feel safe, and you know you are with him

without even realizing it, your relationship starts sinking into something much deeper than friendship

whenever you’re off the ship, zoro is almost always at your side, practically attached to you, making sure you’re never in harms way

the two of you can basically read each other’s minds, seemingly able to communicate without a single word shared between you

neither of you are even conscious of your feelings for one another until nami catches the two of you sound asleep on the desk with your head resting in zoro’s lap and runs to tell usopp

when you do begin to realize how you feel, neither of you bring it up, too afraid to ruin what you already have

but you don’t need to

your bodies and minds are practically interlinked, bending at each other’s will

your relationship stays mostly the same, only gradually and organically becoming closer

running errands together on new islands, napping together more often than you do apart, sitting next to each other during meals, etc

eventually your mutual feelings become almost unbearable, and you finally cross the line between friends and lovers

you would probably have to be the one to make the first move, because not only is zoro insanely stubborm, but he’s also uncharacteristically easily flustered

your first kiss feels like pieces clicking into place, or feeling the warmth of the sun in the dead of winter

as cheesy as it sounds, it feels like home

there’s no conversation about feelings, or asking you to be his girlfriend, you just are

like all the seasons of your relationship, the shift is slow, and goes unnoticed for a while by most of your crew mates

robin, nami, and usopp are the first to notice, seeing you fall asleep against his chest instead of his lap, or seeing you whispering secret conversations up in the crows nest when you think the others are asleep

eventually everyone is made aware of your relationship when you challenge zoro to a drinking game at a party, ending with you getting drunk off your ass and kissing him before immediately passing out against his shoulder

zoro is not a fan of pda, so for the most part, your relationship remains the same around the crew and on islands

still bickering and making up stupid competitions to challenge yourselves, but now theres a softer, more intimate side to your relationship

he will occasionally do passive agressieve little things to rub your relationship in sanji’s face though if he’s flirting with you too much for his liking

like whispering something dirty in your ear to make you get all flustered, or wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you into the dining room

he partly does it to get a rise out of sanji, sure, but mostly because he loves the reaction it gets out of you

the bond you share is clearly special, and thats something that everyone can see

however, your relationship is much different when you’re alone

it’s much more domestic

quieter

you know each other like the back of your hands at this point, so sometimes theres no need for words

the silence is soothing

other times, the two of you can talk for hours

he’ll gladly listen to you ramble on about anything and everything thats on your mind if you want to

and he’ll hang onto every word

he’s also a bit more touchy and vocal in private

he’ll massage your sore muscles after a particularly tough sparring session

or rub his thumb across your hip where he holds you against his chest, mumbling compliments into your hair

he’s another man who never really thought about relationships until you came along, so he’s quite inexperienced in a lot of areas

he picks up quickly and adapts, following the signals that your body sends him and adjusting accordingly

sex with him is either extremely intimate and gentle, or he’s being a total pain in the ass and teasing the shit out of you

either way, he’s hyper aware of your every move and action

his main objective is always to please you, because he quite literally would do anything for you

in his eyes you deserve the world handed to you on a silver platter, and he wants to be the one holding the plate

neither of you need to hear the words to know that you love each other irrevocably

you can see it in every move that he makes, and he can hear it in the beating of your heart

when the words are shared it’s in the hushed privacy that only you will ever share, or after a particularly life threatening battle

zoro knows that he’s yours forever like he knows he needs oxygen to breathe, but he’s also not a sappy romantic like the cook

he would bring up the idea of marriage in casual conversation to see where your head is at

the two of you have extremely healthy communication, always 100% honest with each other

if you don’t like the idea of marriage he would drop the subject and never bring it up again, content to just be with you

but if you do like the idea of getting married, he would propose right then (very informally)

“why don’t we get married then?”

“are you serious?”

“of course i’m serious. let’s get married.”

the two of you would pick out simple wedding bands on the next island you docked at, stealing away for the day to allow yourselves to bask in your new beginning

the rest of the crew would also totally freak out at dinner when they see the sparkling new jewelry adorning your fingers

sanji:

as we all know, sanji is a lover of women

he’s also a hopeless romantic

from the moment you join the crew, he’s completely head over heels

he thinks you are absolutely the most stunning woman he’s ever laid eyes on in his life

while he dotes on you, you don’t really pay him any mind at all at first

you see the way he treats other women, and you know he’s simply a flirt by nature, so why would it be any different when it’s aimed towards you?

and it first, it’s really not that much different

he just finds you mesmerizing, but it’s nothing more than an infatuation

but as some time goes by and he and the rest of crew get to know you, it turns into something more

you become friends first, quickly forming a strong bond

you keep him company while he cooks, allowing him to teach you different techniques and recipes

you listen to him talk about his dreams, and he returns the favor, judgement free

sanji quickly realizes he’s fallen for you

like for real

the feeling scares him at first, never having felt so many intense emotions about one person before

but the fear is quickly overcome by determination to devote himself to you in every way

he takes care of your every need, defends your honor when necessary, and is always there for you when you need a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on

you don’t catch onto your feelings until months after sanji pinpointed his, long after you had already plummeted far away from feelings that could be considered platonic

you make the first move, and neither of you hesitate to leap right into it

he set’s up dates for the two of you frequently

compliments you up and down, every word sincere

he gets super flustered and giddy when you compliment his cooking

never forgets an anniversary, valentines day, or your birthday, and always goes all out to make sure it’s extra special for you

sanji isn’t inexperienced per-se, but he also hasn’t been with many women

however, he has a talent for this sort of thing, and his movements are smooth and fluid, never unsure

he kisses you like a man starved, gentle at first, quickly becoming more passionate and hungry because you’re absolutely irresistible

he’s handles you the same way in the bedroom

gentle and passionate

sanji always finds a way to make sex super romantic

he likes to hold your hand, and give you kisses, and tell you how much he loves you

he has a CD burned with a bunch of super sweet love songs, and it doubles as a slow dance playlist and a sex playlist

after you become official, it’s no secret to the crew

sanji is practically shouting it from the rooftops

he’s even more over the top than before, waiting on you hand and foot

loves holding you, and intertwining your fingers when the two of you go looking for ingredients on whatever island you’re docked at

loves hugs and cuddles obviously

always holds doors open for you, pulls out your chair, offers you his coat, and kisses your hand like a proper gentleman

also uses so many pet names for you that you can’t even keep track of them all

still a massive flirt even though you’re already his, and reaffirm that truth every single day

your relationship is very flirty in general

he can dish it out way better than he can take it

he gets flustered sooooo easily when you give him a taste of his own medicine

even though he’s quite eccentric in the way he loves you, he can also be really soft when the moment’s right

the two of you can giggle about stupid hypotheticals one second and be having a deep philosophical conversation the next

sanji tells you he loves you for the first time within like the first 3 weeks of you dating

and he means it 100% too

he absolutely worships you and thinks he must have been a saint in a past life to be able to deserve you reciprocating his feelings

sanji’s known since the very beginning that he was going to marry you some day

as romantic as he is, he cooks you a wonderful meal, just for the two of you

he lights up the place with dozens of candles and rose petals scattered everywhere

and by some miracle he summons the will power to get through dinner with you, before finally beginning his long speech, pouring out all of his love for you like poetry

he kneels on one knee before you, and the ring is barley slipped onto your finger before he has your back pressed against the kitchen counter

oops!

the two of you throw a little ceremony with the crew on the next island you dock at, with vows and a dress and everything

sanji refused to let you settle for anything less than perfect, because you deserved to have a real wedding

his vows are gut wrenchingly gorgeous btw

cries when he sees you walking down the aisle

he makes sure to call you “my wife” as much as humanly possible, and kisses your ring all the time

usopp:

you and usopp became friends pretty much the second you joined the crew

you both have such a similar sense of humor, and you love listening to his ridiculous stories

he lovessss gossiping with you and it’s your favorite pastime

and of course you help him craft his weapons

the two of you are basically inseperable

you do absolutely everything together

you help each other get through your day to day tasks, talking and joking your way through them

you watch him practice his aim and cheer him on

you like laying down together and looking at the shapes the clouds make

you sit next to each other at meals most of the time so that you can gossip with your eyes

but sometimes if you sit across from each other you have staring contests

you don’t know when or how it happened, but somewhere over the years you and usopp fell desperately in love with each other

everyone knows how you feel for each other, hell even you know how usopp feels about you, but he’s completely oblivious to it all

the only reason you haven’t made a move yet is because nami made a bet with you to see how long it takes him to fess up, and neither of you are allowed to “interfere”

he finally confesses to you one night after a long celebration for another strawhat victory

you always make fun of him for being such a lightweight, but tonight it really shows

completely wasted after only two shots, he finally professes his love for you

nami won the bet, but you honestly couldn’t care less

the next day he’s probably super embarrassed, but once you tell him you feel the same way he’s SO relieved

he gets flustered so easily it’s a little humorous

you barely even have to do anything to make him a blushing stuttering mess

most of the time you do it by accident

he has a staring problem because everything you do is so mesmerizing to him

you take your relationship fairly slow

he gets insanely flustered every time you hold his hand

he LOVES cuddling but he has to hide his face against you because he gets so dazed just by being so close to you

the first time you kissed him he almost passed out

he cannot believe you actually want to be with him

once he’s more comfortable with the concept that you really do want him as much as he wants you, he kisses you all the time

your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your knuckles, and most importantly, your lips

his kisses are gentle and cautious at first, growing more confident the longer you’re together, but still always soft

the crew thinks you’re the cutest couple ever, sometimes disgustingly so

usopp is extremely inexperienced, despite the stories he tells that suggest otherwise, so you make sure to let him set the pace

when he’s ready to take the relationship a step further, he’s a bit clumsy at first, but eager to learn

talks a big game, but when it comes down to it he always “lets you” take the lead

loves bragging about you and telling people that you’re his girlfriend

he’s just so proud to be with you

literally thinks you’re the coolest person ever

you guys are still best friends even though you’re also so much more than that

you still gossip, and do your work together, and make ridiculous jokes, and are there for each other no matter what

if marriage is something you want, you would have to hint at it heavy

because he is not going to come up with the idea to propose otherwise

not because he doesn’t want to marry you, but simply because he’s never even thought about marriage like that before

it take him weeks to work up the courage to finally propose, but he would do it all “the right way” because you deserve a real proposal

takes you out on the deck to watch the sunset and then he’s down on one knee with a ring box in hand

gets teary eyed asking you to marry him, and cries happy tears with you when you say yes

you would have a simple ceremony on the ship, just vows, rings, and a kiss, and just like that, you’re husband and wife

chopper would 100% be the ring bearer and nami would be the flower girl

brags about you, and makes sure to include you in all of his stories

no matter how long you guys have been together, his wild imagination never gets old

law:

you were on the brink of death when law found you, taking you onto the polar tang to perform a life saving operation

you could barely remember what even caused the injuries in the first place by the time you woke up, but you had never been more grateful in your entire life

you owed you’re life to him

so you insisted on joining his crew, promising to repay him for saving your life, even though he assured you it wasn’t necessary

you stayed anyways of course

your relationship started out strictly professional

he was the captain, and you were the crewmate

you were friendly with each other of course, but that was the extent of it

over time, you grew closer

you started getting tasked with him with his personal tasks while he worked, allowing the two of you to spend a lot of time in each other’s company

eventually your simple conversations became staying for hours after all the work had been completed just so that you could continue talking

you bonded over similar interests and shared knowledge, realizing you had more in common than you initially thought

after that the years seemed to fly by, blossoming friendship getting stronger until you could practically read each other’s thoughts, and then one day it all became much bigger than either of you had anticipated

you have both somehow managed to fall in love with each other, and neither of you dared to speak a word of it to anyone, even yourselves

you’re too scared of being rejected and humiliated, and law is absolutely terrified of being in love at all

he has absolutely no idea how to handle his feelings, so instead he bottles them up and stores them away in the hopes that they’ll just vanish

they don’t vanish

instead they get bigger and bigger, until it’s all consuming and he can’t think of a single thing that is not you

meanwhile, you’re trying desperately to suppress your own feeling and failing miserably

the two of dance around each other, tension so thick it radiated to everyone else on the crew

you’re interactions become shorter, both of you unable to be in the presence of the other for too long before you felt like you were going to say something stupid

eventually it all reaches a peak, and while working in his office one night he can’t fight his impulses, so before he can overthink it he finally just kisses you

his kiss is heated and filled with a million emotions he doesn’t know how to express with words

your relationship remains the same outside of your shared privacy, so most of the crew doesn’t even know you guys are together for months

if anyone does pick up on it, it’s because both of you are in considerably better moods for weeks after your first kiss

he lets you paint his nails and do his eyeliner

gets really affectionate when he’s tired

he isn’t the best communicator, but you’re patient and he tries his best

law is somewhat experienced, only having been with a few women in the past, but it’s enough for him to know what he’s doing

he has no problem taking the reigns, and easily slips any semblance of control right out of your grasp

sex is either super soft and romantic or he’s really mean, depends on his mood

loves having his hands all over you whenever he can

also gets really cocky and his smile when he’s like that is deadly

doesn’t say it often, but makes sure to show you every day how much he absolutely adores you

he’s so in love with you it drives him a little crazy sometimes, but he doesn’t say that

instead he saves his smiles only for you, kisses every inch of your skin, and holds you impossibly close to him while he whispers sweet praises and confessions in your ear

when law does say “i love you”, he makes sure you know how much he means it

he cherishes your late night conversations, whispered beneath the sheets

while the crew does know of your relationship now, you still don’t really act like a couple at all in front of anyone else aside from very subtle things

you always make law coffee in the morning and he thanks you for it with a kiss to the cheek before getting breakfast

and he whispers things to you all the time, just wanting to share things with you even if he may not want to share them with the rest of the crew

your relationahip changes slightly you become his wife

he never really liked the idea of marriage, but with you, he’s open to anything that would make you happy

if you want to get married, that’s what will happen

the rings would be extremely simple, but engraved with something incredibly sweet to remind you of how much he loves you, even if he isn’t able to tell you so as often as he thinks he should

there wouldn’t be any ceremony, just the rings, but it’s enough for you

after that he’d be a bit more affectionate with you in front of the crew, the occasional peck, and domestic touches

it’s usually subconscious and goes unnoticed unless someone points it out

he can’t help himself, you’re his wife, and he’s surprised by how much he loves the new title on you

ace:

very flirty with you from the very beginning

compliments you all the time

thinks you’re the hottest person in the world and is very vocal about it

the two of you literally just flirt with each other like 24/7 but still say “we’re just friends”

pisses everyone else off

you know ace has a history with women, so you figured it was safe to assume that you simply followed that pattern

so the two of you go on like that for months, so obviously crazy about each other that it quickly becomes annoying to everyone around you

the solution? set you up, obviously

some of your crew mates make it their mission to finally get you two together

setting up romantic settings where the two of you just happen to be alone

pairing you up on chores and tasks

they may or may not lock the two of you together in a closet for like an hour

it only takes a few weeks to finally get you to crack

ace is a cocky bastard about it, but also literally bouncing off the walls because he’s wanted you for forever

he fell first, you fell harder type shit

huge dork

can be pretty childish sometimes, but in an endearing way

but he does know how to read the room and take things seriously when necessary

never fails to make you feel better if you’ve had a rough day

loves seeing you in his clothes !!!!

literally the biggest flirt and tease ever, no matter how long you’ve been together

very touchy and just wants to be close to you

despite the fiery passion woven through his personality, he kisses you like he has all the time in the world

extremely good kisser, and enjoys pulling away to watch you chase his lips and try to catch your breath wayyyyy too much

50% slutty and 50% the most romantic man on the planet

he’ll literally be making the most obscene noises in your ear and then say something so butterfly inducing and poetic that you feel like you could cry

very experienced, and it shows in everything he does

he knows exactly how to read what you need, and just what to do to have you a complete mess by the time he’s done with you

slutty waist 🗣️🗣️

king of the knee thing

loves when you give him hickeys too so he can show off that he’s yours

also pretty open about pda

he doesn’t like make out with you in the middle of a bar or anything, but he definitely does not shy away from showing you love just because there are people around either

your relationship is surprisingly mature, and you have really good communication

definitely would carry you on his back, shoulders, bridal style, or just pick you up and spin you around cause it makes you smile

if he proposes it would be planned, but not necessarily traditional or formal

he’d plan some sort of fun activity for the day, like a picnic or something, and then you turn around and he’s kneeling on the ground in front of you

would pick the PRETTIEST ring

he’d also be smiling like crazy through the entire proposal cause he wants to marry you right this second

as soon as the ring is on your finger he’s already making stupid jokes that have you rolling your eyes

would “elope” (unofficially) on an island and then see how long it takes for everyone to notice

possibly making a bet to see who catches on first

once the rest of the crew knows, he takes everyyyy opportunity to call you his wife or by his last name, and giggles like a kid every single time

asks are open!

[eternalstateofoctober]

took my septum piercing out too. feeling really really sad that now there’s nothing left of my appearance that indicates i’m cool

[finelinevogue]

pretty boy

summary - the team is out for drinks and people can’t stop hitting on your boyfriend

pairing - spencer reid x bau!gf

word count - +1k

“He’s so hot.”

“Ugh that hair!”

“He is so kissable.”

You had only been at the bar for an hour and you’d already hit your limit for the amount of women that have hit on your boyfriend.

The worst thing about it, is that Spencer is so oblivious to it that you feel silly for being even a little bit jealous.

You were currently at the bar ordering some drinks and were listening to a group of girls lust after your boyfriend, who was currently sitting with the rest of the team in a booth.

“I mean seriously… he looks like he’d know how to please a woman.” One of them said.

You gave the girls a brief look to make sure you weren’t making things up in your head and to your dismay they were all looking Spencer’s way. Curse him for sitting at the end of the booth.

You then looked back to Spencer who was listening intensely to something Rossi was saying.

He did look good. Like, really good.

He’d recently had a haircut that made him look that little bit older, whilst also keeping that youth. Hotch had told him he looked like he was part of a boy-band, which in a way he did. The hot one, if he was.

You loved his new hair. It was so fluffy and soft. Perfect to run your hands through.

It just irked you that other people were thinking the same thing. And so openly.

He was even extra handsome tonight with his work clothes on. It was hot so he had taken off his waistcoat, so it was just his shirt - which he had rolled the sleeves up on - his loose tie and his fitted trousers.

“I’m going to go talk to him.” One of them said, making you tense up.

You wished the bartender would hurry up so you could go back and sit next to Spencer already. You trust Spencer more than anything - but it was these girls you didn’t trust.

“Oh my God. Never mind. He’s coming over here. How’s my hair?”

You thanked the bartender as he placed the drinks on a circular tray in front of you.

The girls were all nervously excited next to you.

Until they weren’t.

Because you felt Spencer slide up behind you, resting one of his hands at the bottom of your spine and the other placed on the bar edge.

“You okay?” He asked, leaning down to kiss the top of your head as you swayed your body into his.

Spencer was standing perpendicular to you so it gave you the opportunity to rest the side of your head on his chest. It allowed you to just breathe him in as if it were just you and him in the room.

You nodded slowly, not really knowing how else to answer.

“Need help with these?” He asked, tapping the tray.

“Please.”

“M’kay. I’ll get these. You grab some straws.”

You were sad when his hand left your back to reach for the tray of drinks. You also really wanted to take Spencer away from these girls though.

Before you could both go back, one of the girls touched Spencer on his forearm and questioned him.

“Excuse me, are you two together?” She asked, only looking at Spencer for the answer. It was almost as if you were invisible.

“Uh, yeah. We are.” Spencer gave a polite smile.

“Oh.” She said, surprised.

Spencer didn’t respond and neither did you. He just smiled before nudging you to keep walking.

Once you were out of their earshot he asked, “That was weird right?”

“Yeah.” It was your turn to give him a small smile this time, keeping your head down as you returned to the booth.

<.><.><.>

The atmosphere had changed.

You had felt good at the start of the night - an hour ago - but now everything felt a little different.

It no doubt had everything to do with the girls that had been surprised that Spencer was dating you. Also it didn’t help that Spencer still looked great and was gaining more and more hungry eyes.

You sipped your drink even though you weren’t interested in having a good time any more. You wanted to be alert in case you needed to be for Spencer’s sake.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” Spencer said.

He was still sat on the end of the booth, but he had one arm tucker over the back of the booth and down around your shoulder to keep you pressed close to him. For someone who was okay with not fully understanding social interactions, he had always done a perfect job of being with you.

The rest of the team were talking and laughing over drinks.

“It’s okay.” You shook your head.

“It’s not if it’s bothering you.” Spencer argued.

“It’s silly.”

You looked from the team to the rest of the bar where people were still looking Spencer’s way.

Damn, why did he have to be so attractive?

You weren’t sure how to approach the subject with Spencer though. He was too sweet to take his gaze off you for even a second to notice how many gazes were on him. It wasn’t even a him problem. Good for him for looking so pretty, but it was just difficult trying to be okay with the extra attention that him being pretty came with.

It sounded so stupid and it didn’t even make sense to you, so it was impossible trying to think of how to bring it up to Spencer.

“Is it the case?” Spencer asked.

You sighed, “No.”

“Did I do something? I feel like that’s quite likely.”

You shook your head, feeling yourself getting worked up about this.

Spencer’s arm pulled you further into his body and his other arm detached from his drink so he could rest his palm on your thigh.

“I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

“You’re not ruining my night. I just don’t like seeing you upset.”

“I know.”

“Well, you tell me when you want to leave and we’ll go okay?”

“Okay.”

<.><.><.>

Spencer was brushing his teeth when you blurted out those three words.

“Sorry if I was weird tonight.” You apologised, finishing off your nighttime routine in Spencer’s apartment.

He mumbled something along the lines of ‘it doesn’t matter’, but it was hard to tell when he had a mouth full of toothpaste.

Your chest heaved heavy breaths as you watched him with adoration.

He looked so soft and homely standing in his bathroom, brushing his teeth in his pyjamas with you. He was just so damn perfect and it was because of that that you had to tell him.

“It was your hair!” You blurted out before you could control yourself.

“Huh?” He questioned with a mouthful of toothpaste still. He took a brief glance to the mirror to check his hair before turning back to you.

“Your hair! I think it’s made you really hot. N-not that you weren’t hot before Spence but- oh my god, what am I saying?” You let out a shaky breath before continuing, “I was jealous okay? Really jealous because everyone at that bar was staring at you like they wanted you and I-I know you and me are— and you would never— and I — but I just…

Spencer spat out his toothpaste.

“Y/N…”

“I couldn’t stop thinking that like you’re mine and what right did they have to chat you up, let alone look at you that way? I mean—.”

“Babe…”

“I love you, okay?!” You proclaimed. You stood there in shock for a moment, not knowing where to take this now that you’d announced that.

“Y/N…”

“I do.” You nodded rapidly, “I do, I really do love you a-and I think it really hit me tonight when I saw you being loved on by all those other women.”

Spencer dropped his toothbrush and took a step towards you.

“All of that tonight was because you love me?” He questioned, trying to wrap his head around this.

“I think so, yeah.”

You pulled the sleeves of your jumper down over your hands as something to fidget with. You were growing nervous now for Spencer to say something.

“Well that makes sense.” He nodded, “I.. I think that means I love you too.”

“Really?” You asked, eyes wide as you watched him figure things out for himself.

“Yeah. I mean… I was frustrated as you sounded at all those men looking at you all night. It was driving me crazy.”

“People looking at me?” You frowned.

“You were the prettiest person in the room.”

“Spence…” You pouted, feeling your eyes tear with happy emotions.

You can’t believe that he had been feeling the exact same as you all this time. All it would have taken was a conversation earlier to talk things through and you both wouldn’t have been feeling so vulnerable.

“I love you, Y/N, even though I’m telling you in the most un-romantic setting.”

“You’re wrong. This is like the most romantic it could be for me.” You smiled and looped your arms around his neck. You felt his come around your waist.

“This?”

“Yeah. You, me and a little bit of toothpaste. That’s all I need to know that I love you.”

“And my hair.”

“Huh?”

“I distinctly remember you talking about how hot my hair was before…” He chuckled and you thumped your forehead down on his chest to escape the embarrassment.

“Stop.”

“No, never. Just like I’m never getting another haircut.”

You lifted your head at that, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him with heart eyes.

“I could live with that.” You smiled.

Spencer stayed looking at you for a few moments.

You could tell he was taking a minute to process everything as well as continue to study every little feature on your face. You prompted him to say something when he stared a little too long though.

“Just like seeing you smile. That’s all.” He said.

It was as simple as that.

You both loved each other. You both loved seeing each other smile. To keep that a forever kind of thing you would have to promise communication and accept there’ll be moments of jealousy. Those moments will be made better though when you remind each other that it’s each other you’re going home to.