#growing up is the process of getting lonelier

[megaclubdiolis]

Michinaga + rain || ep07 // ep25

[the-casbah-way]

i know i'm in the middle of writing a jamie backstory but i went back home to sighthill in glasgow a few days ago and it filled me with such nostalgia and warmth and grief that i NEED to write a malcolm backstory too

[perlelune]

no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | iii.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

After a few weeks, you’re forced to acknowledge you were wrong about Coriolanus.

His mere presence assuages your hurt, and none of his actions bear a hint of impropriety.

He’s simply being a friend, comforting you and supporting you in a time of need.

His visits grow more frequent. 

You’re amazed he even finds time between the University and his apprenticeship with Dr. Gaul. Still, Coryo never misses tea time with you, sometimes even bringing books and sweets. You’re thankful for the time he spends doting on you, even if you hate keeping him from his studies. You know how eager to succeed he’s always been. 

But you can’t deny you missed the feeling of having a brother, of having this person who cares for you, looks out for you and protects you unconditionally. 

And while you’re aware Coriolanus isn’t your actual brother, having him besides you helps alleviate the weight of grief and loneliness. Being with him makes you feel closer to Janus. You’re also solaced by the knowledge it’s what your departed brother would have wanted.

There is one person however who isn’t too keen on the rekindled bond between you and Coriolanus Snow.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with him,” William notes, tracing the lines in your palm.

You’re both lying on the couch in the sunroom, your back against William’s chest, fingers interlaced with his. Sunlight spills from the stained glass in the ceiling, painting your fiancé’s brown curls in bronze hues. 

This is a moment of tranquility you’ve longed for, a sliver of calm amidst the storm and chaos wedding planning has turned out to be. You reckoned it’d be easier than it has been. Instead, it seems nothing ever goes right. Between incidents with the cake, your wedding dress somehow being lost by the store, and the venue perpetually being booked…you’ve grown disheartened and exhausted by the entire process.

It’s almost like some higher force is trying to prevent you marrying William. It’s ludicrous, of course. But the ceaseless string of bad luck is beginning to drain your hope that your wedding will happen before the year ends. 

You and William even had to push back the date. There was no choice as hurdles kept emerging.

So you bask in your fiancé’s presence, soaking his warmth and familiar smell, reminding yourself why you’re going through so much trouble. Marrying William is worth it.

“Yeah. He’s my friend,” you state casually. 

“Your friend. Baby…” There’s a brief pause during which William appears deep in thought. When he speaks again, it’s with a softer tone. “At the risk of sounding jealous, the way he’s looking at you…are you sure that he knows that?”

His words make you sit up straight. 

“William,” you admonish, taken aback by his preposterous insinuation. 

Coriolanus’ a gentleman. He hasn’t made any moves towards you and he wouldn’t. Sejanus trusted him and you trust him too.

Scratching the back of his neck, he sighs.

“I’m just saying. We’re getting married soon, and everything’s been so…tumultuous. I just want to make sure that you won’t…”

You search his forest gaze. Shock fills you at the doubts you find lurking there.

“That I won’t what?” You give a light punch to his chest. “Get cold feet? William, are you mad?”

His shoulders slump. “I know your parents wish I was from a great house like him.”

William looks away and you put your hands on his face, drawing his focus back to you.

“It doesn’t matter what my parents think. I love you.”

He smiles, that beautiful sunny smile that blows a warm breeze through your chest every time.

He grabs your hands and kisses them.

“I love you too, sweet girl.”

“William, you’re good and kind and caring. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.” You hold his eyes. “He’s just a friend, I promise you. You…You’re my future.”

William studies you, love and devotion illuminating his features. His lips then collide with yours. He nudges you down on the plush beige upholstery, humming low in his throat.

When his hands find their way below your skirt, you push against his chest.

He immediately stops.

Your hot, rapid exhales mingle as you steady your breath. 

“You know I’d rather we wait for our wedding night,” you mutter apologetically. It’s not the first time things got hot and heavy between you and William and you slowed them down. You know how frustrating it has to be for him and you commend his patience. “ I know it’s old-fashioned but I…”

He quiets you with a tender kiss on the forehead.

“No, it’s okay,” he says, holding hands with you. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I got carried away.” Pink dusts his cheeks as he adds, “You just smell so good and you’re so beautiful.”

A smile breaks across your face. “You’re not too bad yourself, pretty boy.”

He tilts his head and laughs. 

“How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when you talk to me like that?” He bites his lip, his lids dipping to half-mast. “Can I at least get another kiss?” he whispers suavely.

“Hm, we’ll see about that…” you mumble, closing your own eyes.

“Apologies, hope I’m not  interrupting anything?”

Coriolanus’ sharp inflection shatters the spell, making you leap away from William.

Heat nestles in your cheeks as you rise to your feet, hastily smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Your fiancé clears his throat and runs a hand through his tousled locks.

“No, we’re…William was leaving,” you stammer, struggling to meet Coriolanus’ stark blue gaze.

William’s brows squeeze together at that. But you shoot him a glare that pulls a deep sigh from him. He nods and pulls you to him one more time. 

He kisses you but you note it lasts much longer than usual, his fingers curling around your waist possessively.

Embarrassment flares inside you that this is happening right in front of your friend.

When he releases you, you’re breathless.

“Coriolanus,” William greets stiffly as he brushes past the blond.

“William,”Coriolanus replies, his tone somehow icier.

Once your fiancé has left, a weary exhale floats from your mouth.

“I don’t understand why you two can’t just get along. You both matter to me.”

Coriolanus smirks. “Oh, princess. You wouldn’t understand.”

“What wouldn’t I understand?” you inquire, blinking up at him curiously.

His tight-lipped smile expands as he gauges you. 

“Nothing.”

You scrunch your nose, displeased by his answer. He’s always so cryptic. A chuckle peels from his lips at your sour expression. His knuckles sweep over your cheek.

“There should never be a frown on such a pretty face.” He digs inside his satchel before retrieving a slim, leather-bound book. He places it in your hands as you gape at him, puzzled.

“Here, I brought you this. This will cheer you up.”

You examine the book. Surprise mingles with elation when you notice the words on the cover. The engraved letters spell out a familiar title. It’s one of your favorite books from when you were younger. It bewilders you that he even remembers. As if no time has passed.

“Oh my god! How did you…” An excited squeal leaves you. Then your voice lulls to a whisper. “It’s a first edition, Coryo.”

“It was printed and bound before the war,” he explains. “It wasn’t easy to dig up.”

Your brows rise. “An antique. You shouldn’t have.” You cradle the book against your chest. “You’re too good to me.”

His mouth quirks lopsidedly.

“Anything for you, princess.”

You both sit down for tea, cakes and macaroons. Time flies as you chat about everything and nothing with your friend. As always, you do most of the talking as he dutifully listens, only interjecting to ask you to elaborate on a particular point. 

No matter what you jabber on about, his interest never appears to wane.

You eventually land on the matter of your wedding planning. You share all the troubles you and William have had and Coriolanus hums in response.

“I’m very sorry to hear that.” He sips from his cup of Earl Grey. “How…unfortunate.” 

He then pauses, seeming to ponder something. “I have a proposition.”

Your brow arches in question.

“Clemmie is throwing a party tonight. Let me take you, get your mind off of all this.”

Your lips part. Clemensia? A party? None of it sounds enticing to you.

“I’m not sure…” you trail off, your eyes finding the floor.

“What better way to cheer you up than a party, princess?” Coriolanus’ voice mellows as he adds, “You can’t stay cooped up here forever.”

Words falter on your tongue as your eyes swell with unshed tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, concern oozing from his gentle tone.

You shake your head.

“You’re crying,” he insists, reaching over the table to lift your chin.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says sternly. “Talk to me.”

His unwavering  inflection nudges you to admit, “I’m just scared.”

“What are you scared of, princess?”

You suck in a shaky breath.

“Every part of this house, every nook and cranny carries a memory I have with Janus.” You glance about the sunroom. Here alone you can count so many hiding spots from games you and your brother played when you were kids. “It’s easy, keeping him close here. It’s just that…”

“You’re scared to move on,” Coriolanus finishes for you. His thumb glides over your cheek, collecting a tear you didn’t realize had spilled over. “But you have to.”

“Sejanus wouldn’t want you to wilt away in this house like one of your roses.”

You mull over his words. You suppose he’s right but you’re still not convinced. Parties like the kind Clemensia is fond of hosting aren’t exactly your scene. 

A lame excuse flows from your lips.

“I don’t even know what to wear.”

“Then I’ll choose for you,” he replies without hesitation.

“What?”

“Let’s go to your room.”

Before you can protest, he seizes your hand and drags you upstairs.

“Wait, Coryo…”

He ignores you, making his way to your room with brisk strides you can barely maintain pace with. Once he’s there, he rummages through your closet. You let him do it, half-skeptical, half-jaded. Most of these garments weren’t picked by you anyway, but by your mother based on whatever fashion trend raged in the Capitol at the time. And those trends change every other season. You since long gave up on trying to keep abreast of them.

“Hm, this one is perfect,” he announces, drawing a red number from the closet.

You gape at the dress he chose. It’s a slip satin dress the color of blood. The waist is cinched with a thin belt and the lace sleeves, adorned with embroidered flowers, flow elegantly.

It’s beautiful, radiating a timeless elegance…but the neckline is low, displaying more cleavage than you’re used to. 

Your cheeks warm. “Are you sure?”

“Just trust me. Try it.”

Your eyes bulge but you relent, something about his tone curbing your impulse to argue. “Okay,” you quaver.

Trying not to squirm beneath his intense stare, you grab the dress from him and slip behind the wooden divider screen.

Chewing on your lip, you peek above the folding screen.

“Maybe you could…get out while I change?” you suggest while fumbling with the lace strings of your day dress.

Coriolanus casually sits on your bed, his crimson coat pooling around him. He leans back and spreads his large hands over your bed sheets. A small smile dances along his pink lips.

“I won’t look, I promise. Don’t you trust me, princess?”

“I do but…”

“But what?” he challenges, cocking his head in question.

Stumped, you come up short of a decent answer. “Nothing,” you mumble.

You shed your clothes quickly to try on the red dress. The whole time, you can feel the weight of Coriolanus’ unnerving scrutiny on the other side of the wooden screen.

He gives you a sluggish onceover when you step out from behind the screen. Your skin prickles as you shake.

“Hm nice, twirl for me.”

His blue eyes sparkle when you do as he says. He gets to his feet. He slowly strolls towards you.

Once he’s in front of you, he also arranges a few wisps of your hair in a way that he likes.

“Gorgeous,” he lauds when he’s done. 

He tilts your chin up, his gaze corralling yours.

“See? All you have to do is to trust me, princess.” His deep voice dips to dulcet tones. “Just trust me and, I promise you, everything will work out exactly the way it’s supposed to.”

“You came,” Coriolanus points out, that signature smirk of his adorning his lips.

“I promised I would,” you defend.

He snorts. “I’m glad. Saves me the trouble of having to drag you here myself, princess.”

Nervous laughter peals from your lips at his strange joke and the intent way his eyes rest on you. For a while, he doesn’t say anything, drinking in the sight of you in the crimson dress. The very same one he picked himself.

He then loops your arm around his, bending near your ear to whisper,

“Let's re-introduce you to everyone.”

You look around yourself, curious as you’ve never been to Clemensia’s house. The atmosphere is more intimate than you expected. The only source of dim light in the Dovecote’s sumptuous living room emanates from candelabras scattered all about, the wobbly candlelight casting twisting shadows over the damask walls. The crackle of the logs burning in the gigantic fireplace mingles with the soft piano tune filling the living room. 

“Coriolanus, did you bring a ghost to my party?” Clemensia jests when she sees you. Her expression then turns serious as she studies you. To your utter surprise, she wraps her arms around you and hugs you. You freeze, too stunned to return the gesture. The two of you were never close, the opposite in fact. It all stemmed from the way she and her friends ostracized you and your brother in school. Maybe it’s all water under the bridge now that you’re older. “Oh, you poor thing,” she laments. “I’m here for whatever you need, okay?”

You nod stiffly. “O-Okay.”

Coriolanus hardly conceals his amusement at the interaction, mirth swaying in his cobalt orbs. 

He and Clemensia keep introducing you to people. Some you recognize; some you don’t. 

It makes you realize how much you missed. 

After a while, faces blend into each other. You end up nodding and smiling to most of the small talk, your attention span dwindling by the minute.

Eventually, you decide to retreat to the bar to take a break. The barkeep nudges a drink your way and you thank him quietly. You swirl it in your hand, your thoughts drifting. Maybe this is what a return to normalcy must feel like. Slightly strange and overwhelming.

You gasp as Coriolanus appears at your side. “Are you alright, princess? Too much?”

Your startled reaction draws a chuckle from him.

A slow exhale drops from your chest. 

“A little,” you confess. “But…I’m glad you took me. A change of scenery is nice.”

It occurs to you that you haven’t had time to wallow in your sadness, too caught in conversation with other people. However frivolous the topics, it did keep your mind off of things. No thoughts of dead brothers have crossed your mind tonight.

It might not be much but it’s a start, you suppose.

Coriolanus’ brow curves teasingly. “See? This is why you should trust me.”

“Don’t push it, Snow. You’re on thin ice.”

A laugh bursts from his chest but, as he peers down at your drink, all humor vanishes from his face. He swipes it from you and sniffs it. 

“Hm, what’s wrong?”

A frown puckers his forehead. 

“Who served you this drink?” he rumbles.

You shrug. “I don’t know. It was just…brought to me.”

“There’s something in it.”

“What?” Ice spills in your veins. “Oh my god.”

Your mind whirls as you peek at your surroundings, paranoia creeping in. You wonder who could have done this and why. Just to mess with you? Or maybe even worse…

Your gut sinks. Thank god Coryo put a stop to whatever awful thing could have happened to you.

He puts his hand on your arm reassuringly. “I’ll bring you a clean one.”

“T-Thanks,” you stutter. “Just nothing with alcohol in it, please.”

“Of course.”

He returns with a brand new drink in a jiffy. 

“Thanks for looking out for me,” you beam before taking a sip. You were starting to get a little parched.

“Always, princess.” He grins at you while you take another sip.

A wave of queasiness suddenly hits you. 

The room starts to spin around you, blurring into crooked shapes and colors. You try to stand but your knees buckle instantly.

If it weren’t for Coriolanus swiftly catching you you’d be a heap on the floor.

“Coryo…I’m not feeling so good,” you slur, struggling to speak. Cotton seems to fill your mouth, the mere act of forming words demanding great effort.

“It’s okay, lean on me,” he says, slipping his arm around your waist.

“Head…heavy.”

“You’re alright. Just hold on to me, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good girl.”

In a daze, you stagger along as he escorts you through a series of hallways and up a flight of stairs. You grow so weak that you slump against him. With ease, Coriolanus hoists you in his arms, carrying you bridal style the rest of the way.

You fall onto something heavenly soft that sinks under your weight. Like fluffy clouds. 

Your thoughts collapse, muddy and haphazard as you blink up at the ceiling. An antique chandelier hangs from it.

“You just need a little bit of rest.”

Coriolanus’s voice is warped, disembodied almost.

“Rest…” you echo.

But as soon as your eyes begin to close, the feeling of your dress hiking upwards tugs you back to consciousness. 

Befuddled, you look down. You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus wedged between your parted legs, hands clasped around your thighs. His waistcoat and white blouse are gone, exposing his pale, broad chest. 

“Coryo, what is happening-”

His soft lips cover yours, stifling your protests. His tall frame pins yours to the bed. He purrs against your lips, framing your jaw when you feebly pivot your head to the side. 

When his lips free yours, your mouth still tingles with the forcefulness of his bruising kiss. 

He returns to the space between your thighs. 

You lie back, your bones like jelly, as you feel the delicate material of your panties sliding down your legs. 

Your brows twitch. “Coryo…”

His blue eyes glow strangely in the darkness. A chill slithers through your core. 

“Shh, don’t worry about it, princess, just sleep.”

You want to move. You feel you have to. But you can’t. 

“I…”

The syllable dies in a sharp gasp as Coriolanus’ cool tongue drags down your slit. Long fingers spreading you open, he traces wet circles around your bundle of nerves. He rasps against your center and the vibrations rock through your core. Your breath hitches. Your chest tightens. Heat builds in your stomach as he makes you dangle off the cliff of pleasure. He soon adds a finger and you cry out.

Coriolanus pumps in and out of you, gauging your expression as he grazes a particular spot that has your toes flexing. You writhe over the sheets, eyes blindly rising to the ceiling. 

You clench around his finger, your cunt clinging to him reflexively.

He sinks a second digit inside you and you whine, back arching at the abrupt stretch.

Short, chaotic breaths rush through your lungs as he works you open. His slow, meticulous drags have your chest rising and falling rapidly. 

Your legs quake as the coils in your belly grow unbearably tight and hot.

He stops as you’re on the cusp of your undoing. Your boneless frame sags onto the sheets.

He leans back and you hear the rustle of his pants coming undone. You get a faint sense of wrong trying to pierce through the haziness, but you can’t grasp at it.

Still, your fingers stretch towards the edge of the bed, your body rolling to the side. The meek attempt is interrupted as Coriolanus yanks you back onto the sheets, snatching your wrists and pinning them above your head. His frame drapes over yours. The scent of roses coats your senses.

“We’re not done, princess,” he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your face.

A painful pressure starts prodding your entrance. He grunts, hovering above you as he pushes past your tight ring of muscles. 

You feel as if you’ll tear as more of him buries inside you. Every second is agony, your core burning at the blunt intrusion.

A sigh of pleasure floats from his mouth when he reaches the hilt of you. He stays there a while, seeming to bask in the feeling of you around him. 

When he starts to move, your eyes flutter open. He sets a steady pace right away, thrusting inside you as if his life depended on it. Wordless screams rip from your throat. He releases your wrists, his long fingers latching onto your waist instead. 

Each of his slow, deep thrusts sparks warm tingles through your body.

Sweat collects between his brows as he grunts in pleasure.

“I knew you’d feel just perfect around me,” he rasps, delighted. 

His cadence quickens, his hand digging bruising grooves over your hip. Choked moans spill from your throat. His other hand crawls beneath the thin satin of your dress, fondling your breast and flicking your pebbled nipple. His hands feel everywhere at once and that sense of wrong rolls over you again.

“Ever since I saw you in this dress, I’ve been dying to fuck you in it,” he confesses, lust bleeding in his fevered tone. 

The mattress squeaks as he relentlessly rams into you.

A uniquely sharp thrust has your slick walls tighten around him. His cock stirs, a throaty moan pouring from his chest.

The repeated friction against your soft spots has you seeing stars.

A feral glint bounces in his blue eyes as he admires your panting form, lost in the throes of pleasure. Strangled shouts escape you as another wave of pleasure crashes over your frame.

His pace slows, sloppier than before as his cock twitches between your walls. His eyes roll back as he sighs, tension draining from his muscular frame. Hot ropes spill inside you, overflowing until you feel the warmth dripping along your thighs.

Your mouth wobbles, silent tears streaming down your face.

Coriolanus cradles your face, kissing away each of your tears with tender brushes of his lips.

“Shh, don’t cry,’ he mumbles. “It’s okay, princess. I’ve got you.” His cock stiffens inside you once more. He lifts you and snaps his hips viciously into yours, drawing a broken whimper as he bottoms out. A lopsided smile blooms on his lips when he begins to move inside you. Helplessly, you lie back as he takes you again.

“I’ve got you, and I’m not letting you go.”

[cumironi]

LIVE, LAUGH, VOMIT AND DIE : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU.

your upperclassmen have been busier, leaving you all alone and lonely. but tonight they finally have some time off and decided to go on a midnight picnic together with their lovely underclassmen.

warning. drunk reader, vomit, fluff, crack, under-age drinking, very very suggestive, friend gojo kiss friend reader hehehe

MASTERLIST

these last few weeks had been bad for you. it felt like everything was off, and no matter what you did to distract yourself, the days just dragged on. you spent most of your time alone at school because your upperclassmen, gojo and geto, were busy with a long mission. especially gojo, who seemed to always be involved in something important. the absence of their chaotic energy made your days feel empty. nobody was there to get under your skin, tease you, or steal your food. there wasn’t anyone tugging your hair in the hallway or throwing a casual arm over your shoulders like you were all just some tight-knit little family.

despite how annoying they could be, you found yourself missing them more than you wanted to admit. you missed the loud laughs, the endless teasing, and even the way gojo would shamelessly swipe your food without a second thought. without them, everything just seemed too quiet. the usual chaos they brought into your day was gone, and you felt the emptiness more with each passing day.

it had been two whole weeks since you last saw them. the first few days, you convinced yourself you didn’t care—they were just a couple of annoying upperclassmen. but as time went on, you couldn’t shake the feeling of loneliness that started creeping in. you missed them. but you were far too stubborn to reach out. even though gojo had teased you before, saying you were just one call away if you missed them. you rolled your eyes at the memory, but a part of you held onto those words more than you wanted to.

then, almost as if the universe knew what you were thinking, your phone rang late one night. it was nearly midnight, and you were already in bed, ready to force yourself into another restless sleep. the sound of your phone buzzing startled you, and when you reached over to check the screen, your heart skipped a beat. gojo.

you couldn’t help the huge smile that spread across your face as you saw his name flash on the screen. it had been too long, and just seeing his name felt like a relief. you quickly answered, trying to sound calm, though excitement was bubbling up inside you.

“hey, guess who’s outside your school gate,” gojo’s voice came through, playful and teasing as ever.

“who?” you ask lazily, pretend not to care despite you were already sitting up, swinging your legs out of bed as you tried to process what he was saying. “me and suguru. we figured you missed us so much that we’d kidnap you for a midnight picnic,“ he said with a smirk in his voice, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

you blinked, caught off guard. “a picnic? right now? it’s almost midnight!” but despite your words, you were already getting up and slipping on your shoes, too excited to care about the time or the fact that you were only wearing a simple dress. “go on, don’t keep us waiting. it’s been two weeks, you know,” gojo teased again, and you could hear geto chuckling in the background.

you hung up without another word, not bothering with a jacket or anything else. the night air hit you as you hurried out of your room and down the halls, your excitement growing with every step. you hadn’t realized just how much you missed them until now. the two people who always managed to bring chaos and fun into your life were just outside, waiting for you.

as you got closer to the school gate, you could see them standing there. gojo was leaning casually against the gate, looking as relaxed as ever, his trademark grin plastered on his face. next to him, geto stood holding a picnic basket in one hand, his other hand casually tucked into his pants pocket. their presence alone made your heart feel lighter, but you couldn’t let them know that. not yet, at least.

you slowed your pace as you got closer, deciding to play it cool. after all, they didn’t need to know how much you missed them. pretending to be annoyed, you started grumbling to yourself. “really? a midnight picnic? you two know i was about to sleep, right?” you called out as you approached, crossing your arms as you slowed to a walk. you were trying to look as unimpressed as possible, even though your heart was racing with excitement.

gojo chuckled at your comment, a smug look in his eyes as he pushed himself off the gate, stepping closer to you. “don’t bother acting all grumpy, we know you’ve been missing us.“

you rolled your eyes, trying to hold back a smile, but the way gojo was smirking made it harder. “yeah, right," you muttered, crossing your arms and shifting your weight onto one foot. "i was actually enjoying my peace and quiet.”

geto, who was quieter and more observant than gojo, smirked. he could see the excitement in your eyes, even if you were trying to hide it. “we weren’t expecting you to come running out that quick.”

gojo snickered, leaning in closer to you. “you were in such a hurry. looks like you couldn’t even wait to change out of that little dress.” he gestured towards your dress, and a faint blush appeared on your cheeks as you self-consciously crossed your arms.

you could feel a faint blush rise to your cheeks at his comment, and instinctively, you crossed your arms tighter over your chest, glaring at gojo. “i wasn’t running,” you grumbled, shooting him a pointed look. “and i didn’t change because i was lazy, okay?”

geto chuckled softly beside you, noticing the blush on your face. his tone is much more soothing as he gives you a gentle smile. “come on now, you look great.“ he added, his tone much softer and comforting, carrying a warmth that contrasted with gojo’s relentless teasing.

you huffed, still trying to maintain your grumpy facade, but it was hard when they were both standing there, looking so smug and pleased with themselves. “whatever,” you muttered under your breath, rolling your eyes dramatically as gojo slung his arm over your shoulder.

“sure, sure,” gojo grinned, pulling you in closer to him as the three of you began walking towards the park. “lazy, huh? you just missed us that much.”

“in your dreams,” you shot back, though the small smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words. geto walked beside you, hand in his pockets, glancing at you with a knowing smile. “it’s okay to admit you missed us,” he said quietly, his voice soft and understanding.

you scoffed, shaking your head as you walked between them. “i’m not admitting anything.”

“we’ll take that as a yes,” gojo teased, giving your shoulder a light squeeze as you continued toward the park.

the path leading to the park was quieter than usual, and the only sound was your footsteps and the occasional rustling of leaves. you were sandwiched between the two boys, their presence filling the air with a familiar energy that you had missed dearly.

gojo chuckled, a mischievous tone in his voice. “you don’t have to admit it, princess.” he teased, but there was genuine fondness in the way he spoke. “we already know.” geto, who was the more observant of the two, gave a soft smile, his eyes flickering toward you. “we missed you too.”

you grumbled under your breath, rolling your eyes as gojo’s teasing voice broke the quiet of the night. “shut up, i didn’t miss you,” you mumbled, didn't even bother to look at them, though the warmth in your tone gave you away.

gojo chuckled, clearly enjoying getting under your skin as always. “oh, really?” he said, his arm still slung over your shoulder like it belong there. “then why’d you come running out here so fast? couldn’t sleep without us, huh?” geto snickered quietly, giving you a side-glance. “seems like you were in such a hurry that you didn’t even bother to throw on a jacket.”

you didn’t bother responding, just grumbling under your breath as gojo’s arm remained draped over your shoulder, like it was the most natural thing in the world. you could feel his teasing gaze on you, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. instead, you silently fumed, staring ahead as the three of you walked deeper into the park.

geto’s quiet snicker didn’t help either. you shot him a side glance, but he only raised an eyebrow, amused at your lack of defense. “cute,” he teased lightly, as if the sight of you rushing out without one was more proof that you had missed them.

the path was darker as you walked further into the park, the cool night air brushing against your skin, but you didn’t care. despite your best efforts to act annoyed, there was a certain comfort in being with them again, in the familiar banter and warmth they brought, even if they insisted on teasing you the whole time.

the three of you reached a quiet spot, surrounded by trees, the sounds of the city distant now. you sighed, still keeping your grumbling to yourself, but deep down, there was no denying that you were glad to be here with them again.

as you reached the secluded spot, gojo finally let go of your shoulder, a smug smirk still on his face. “welp, here we are,” he announced, gesturing to the area around you. “our little picnic spot for the night.”

geto followed suit, setting down the picnic basket and starting to unpack the contents. gojo, ever the restless one, immediately flopped down onto the grass, arms behind his head as he looked up at the night sky and sighed dramatically. “and to think we had to drag this grumpy lump all the way out here just to have some fun.”

as gojo flopped onto the grass with his usual dramatic flair, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, watching him bask in the moonlight as if he hadn’t been teasing you the entire time. “drag me out here?” you muttered, crossing your arms again. “i didn’t ask for this.”

geto, ever the thoughtful one, pulled out a soft blanket from the picnic basket and gave you a small smile. “come on, sit down,” he said gently, shaking out the blanket before laying it on the grass. “we don’t want you catching a cold, especially since you didn’t bring a jacket.”

he patted the spot in the middle, insisting you settle down between him and gojo. despite your grumbling, you found yourself giving in, mostly because the blanket looked warm and the night air had gotten a little colder.

you sat down, feeling geto tuck the edges of the blanket under you, making sure you were comfortable. “there,” he murmured, his voice soft as he sat down beside you. “much better.”

you glanced at geto, feeling the warmth of the blanket under you and the quiet care in his actions. despite your usual grumbling, you couldn’t help but soften a bit. he always had this way of making sure you were comfortable, of putting you first without making a big deal out of it. it was something you really appreciated about him, even if you didn’t always say it. “thanks, suguru,” you murmured, your voice quieter now, more genuine. you gave him a small smile, your usual tough exterior slipping just a little.

geto smiled back, his expression softer and more sincere than gojo’s usual smirk. “no problem,” he replied, settling down beside you.

gojo, lying on the grass, shifted his gaze from the night sky to the two of you. he couldn’t help but roll his eyes exaggeratedly. “awww, look at you two, being all cute and sappy,” he teased, propping himself up on his elbows. “do you want a moment alone, lovebirds?”

geto simply shot gojo a look, knowing his snarky comment was just his way of lightening the mood. he shifted closer to you, his arm brushing against yours as he settled into a comfortable position. “don’t mind him. he’s just jealous because you thanked me instead of him.”

you raised an eyebrow, watching as geto began unpacking the basket, pulling out snacks one by one, followed by an impressive assortment of alcohol bottles. your eyes widened a bit at the sight, curiosity piqued as you looked between him and the collection of drinks.

“what’s with all the alcohol?” you asked, raising your voice slightly, half-amused and half-surprised. “were you planning on getting me drunk tonight or something?”

geto chuckled at your question, a hint of mischief in his eyes. gojo snickered from his spot on the grass beside him, clearly enjoying the scene. “getting you drunk is just a happy bonus,” gojo said, his smirk widening as he reached over and grabbed one of the bottles, inspecting the label playfully. “but we figured a bit of liquid courage might help loosen that grumpy demeanor of yours.”

you narrowed your eyes at the two of them, suspicion creeping into your expression as you glanced between the bottles of alcohol and their smug faces. “really?” you said unamused, crossing your arms again as you gave them both a pointed look. “isn't the drinking age in japan like, twenty? am i even allowed to have one?”

gojo and geto both chuckled, knowing they were caught. they exchanged a glance, silently communicating between them, before breaking out into grins.

gojo spoke up first, his tone full of feigned innocence. “well... technically, you’re not supposed to drink at your age. but hey, we’re jujutsu sorcerers. we break rules all the time.” geto joined in, his smile just as cheeky. “and what’s the harm in one tiny rule-break, right? you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

geto noticed your silence and the suspicion lingering in your eyes as you glanced between them. while gojo continued to playfully nudge you, geto’s expression softened. he leaned a little closer, his voice quiet and gentle as he gave you a reassuring smile. “hey,” he murmured, catching your gaze with his calm eyes. “you’re safe with us. we’re not going to do anything to make you uncomfortable, okay? we’re just messing around.”

he reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm, his touch warm and reassuring. “it’s okay if you don’t want to drink,” he added, his smile growing a little softer. “we’re here to relax, have a good time, and protect you, as always. no pressure.” his words eased some of the tension in your shoulders, and you found yourself relaxing under his calm gaze. despite the chaos gojo usually brought into your life, geto was always there to balance it out, to offer a sense of stability.

you nodded slightly, and geto’s smile widened, the warmth in his expression making it impossible not to feel safe around him. “besides,” he said, his tone lightening a bit, “if anyone tries anything, you’ve got the two strongest sorcerers looking out for you.”

you nodded, giving geto a small smile in return. “i know,” you said softly, feeling the warmth of his words sink in. with that reassurance, you grabbed a bag of chips from the snacks and tore it open, the familiar salty scent hitting your nose.

without another word, you plopped yourself down on the blanket, laying back with the open bag resting on your stomach. you crunched on a chip, the sound filling the quiet night air as you stared up at the sky, feeling the cool night breeze brush against your skin. “you know,” you mumbled between bites, “this isn’t too bad. but don't expect me to say i missed you guys.”

gojo immediately rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he gave you a knowing smirk. “oh, we know,” he teased, reaching over to steal a chip from the bag on your stomach. “but actions speak louder than words, princess.”

geto smirked, also rolling onto his side and resting his head on his hand. he always appreciated gojo’s playful nature, knowing full well it often masked his more serious side. “he’s right,” geto chimed in as gojo popped the stolen chip into his mouth. “your grumpy facade might say otherwise, but your actions betray you. you could’ve stayed in bed tonight, but you chose to come out here with us, despite being a little too dressed for a picnic.”

you rolled your eyes, pretending not to be affected by their teasing, but the corners of your lips twitched in amusement. “whatever,” you muttered, grabbing another chip and tossing it into your mouth, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a real response.

gojo chuckled at your stubbornness, clearly enjoying the banter. after a moment, his tone shifted to something more genuine, curiosity glimmering in his eyes. “but seriously, doll face,” he asked, propping himself up on one elbow to get a better look at you. “how have you been these past two weeks without us to annoy you?”

his question was straightforward, lacking the usual teasing edge, and it caught you off guard. you glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “uh, you know... the usual,” you replied, trying to play it cool as you focused on the stars above instead of his gaze. “just school, training, slacking off, annoyed shoko, steal her stash, you know... trying to keep myself entertained.”

gojo’s smirk widened at your answer, clearly amused at the thought of you causing chaos in the absence of him and geto. “ah, the classic routine,” he said, chuckling to himself. “sounds like you’ve been keeping our namesakes proud.”

geto, ever the more observant one, studied you for a moment, his gaze shifting from you to the stars above. “did you... miss us at all?” he asked, his voice softer than usual. “did it get lonely without us around?”

you paused for a moment, the weight of geto’s question sinking in. it was easy to brush off the feeling when you were trying to act tough, but the truth was, yes, you did miss them. “yeah,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “it did get lonely without you guys around.”

the admission hung in the air, and you could feel the tension shift slightly. you looked down at the blanket, your fingers idly picking at a loose thread. “i mean, there’s nobody there to buy me anything or make sure i eat well, now i have to used my pocket money,” you added with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “and, training alone sucks.”

gojo laughed heartily at your last comment, the sound filling the air. “ah, the struggle is real.” he said, shaking his head dramatically. “how will you ever survive without my wallet to sponsor your snacks?”

geto smiled, appreciating the honesty in your confession. “training alone would suck,” he agreed, rolling onto his back and gazing up at the stars. “can’t say i blame you. the training room would be a lot quieter without our noisy asses around.”

you chuckled at gojo’s playful lament, shaking your head. “hey, you’re the one who insists on paying every time! it’s not my fault i’m getting used to it now,” you shot back, a teasing smile on your lips. it felt good to banter back and forth like this again, like no time had passed at all.

you felt a warmth spread through you at their words. it was reassuring to know that your presence made a difference, that they enjoyed having you around just as much as you enjoyed having them around. “but yeah, i agree,” you replied, a hint of nostalgia creeping into your voice. “training alone really does suck. it’s so much more fun when you guys are there to push my buttons and make everything more chaotic.”

gojo let out another laughter-filled chuckle, clearly enjoying the playful banter. “what can i say? i like spoiling people,” he joked, giving a little shrug. “especially cute girls.” geto, ever the quieter of the two, smiled at your words. “it is more fun when you’re around,” he said, his gaze still fixed on the stars above. “even if we drive you nuts sometimes.”

gojo rolled onto his stomach, resting his head on his arms as he continued to smirk at you. “but hey, it’s all in good fun, right?” he said, his tone light and playful. “and you wouldn’t have us any other way.”

you nodded, a small smile still lingering on your lips. “sadly,” he said, playfully, your eyes shifting from the stars to him, you noticed the proximity between the two of you. his head was merely inches away from yours, his expression still wearing that playful smirk.

gojo’s smirk widened as you noticed how close he was to you, clearly enjoying your reaction. “oh come on, don't act so reluctant,” he teased, his voice slightly lower. “you know you love having us around.”

geto, not wanting to be left out of the playful banter, chimed in with a sly smile. “yeah, you're stuck with us,” he said, lifting his head to look at you. “so you might as well get used to it.”

gojo chuckled, pushing himself onto his arms to hover over you slightly. the proximity only heightened the tension between you, making the air around you feel just a little warmer. “so, doll face,” he said, his voice still laced with playfulness. “how about we make a deal.”

you hummed in response, raising an eyebrow as you tilted your head slightly to look up at gojo. the closeness between you made your heartbeat quicken, though you tried not to let it show. “what kind of deal?” you asked, curiosity mixing with amusement as you met his playful gaze.

gojo’s smirk widened, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “it's a simple one,” he said, his voice lowering to a whisper. “i'll stop teasing you for the rest of the night if you give me one little thing in exchange.” geto, ever observant, picked up on the tension in the air and silently watched the interaction, a small smile playing on his lips.

“what do you want?”

gojo chuckled, clearly enjoying the game he was playing. he leaned in a little closer, his face mere inches away from yours. “well,” he said, his voice almost a purr. “there's something i've been wanting for a while now.”

he paused for a moment, his gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, his smirk more cocky than ever. “but i think it’s something you’re more than willing to give me.”

geto, now fully intrigued, watched the interaction between you and gojo with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. he knew his friend was up to his usual playful antics, and he couldn’t help but silently wonder what gojo was up to this time.

gojo’s smirk grew wider, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. “so, doll face,” he repeated, his voice a little lower this time. “do you think you can give me what i want?”

you raised an eyebrow at gojo, your curiosity piqued by his cryptic words. “well, you’re gonna have to tell me what you want first,” you replied, keeping your tone casual, though the closeness between you made it harder to ignore the warmth spreading across your skin.

gojo chuckled at your response, clearly enjoying the way you were keeping your cool despite the tension between you. “ah, but where’s the fun in that?” he teased, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “wouldn’t you rather i surprise you?”

geto, still watching quietly, couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath at gojo’s antics. he knew his friend had something up his sleeve, and he found the whole situation quite amusing. you hummed, pretending to think about it, a smirk playing on your lips. “maybe,” you replied, your tone teasing as you glanced between gojo and geto.

gojo’s smirk widened, clearly amused by your response. “oh, you're such a tease, doll face,” he said, his voice low and flirty. “but fine, i'll give you a hint.” he shifted to lean even closer, his face almost touching yours. “what i want is something you can give me without even having to get up,” he said, his eyes flickering down to your lips again.

geto, watching the interaction, couldn't help but chuckle quietly again. he knew exactly what gojo was hinting at, but he wasn't going to interrupt the moment. he leaned back, a small smile on his lips, enjoying the show in front of him. gojo’s smirk grew wider, his eyes locking onto yours as he continued to invade your personal space. “so, doll face,” he repeated, his voice a little lower this time. “can you guess what it is?”

you looked at gojo, unfazed by his proximity, your lips curling into a slight smirk. “i’m not really in the mood for guessing games,” you replied coolly, your tone daring. “i prefer action.”

gojo's smirk mirrored your own, enjoying the challenge in your words. “oh, you like things direct, do you?” he said, his voice dripping with flirtation. “i can work with that.” he shifted even closer to you, his body almost covering yours now. “well then, doll face,” he repeated, his eyes flickering back and forth between your eyes and lips. “how about i show you?”

geto, still observing the interaction, rolling his eyes, taking a sip of the beer in his hand. he knew gojo could be impulsive and unpredictable, but he also knew that you could hold your own against his friend’s relentless teasing. gojo’s smirk widened as he closed the remaining distance between the two of you, his face mere millimeters away from yours. “are you ready for that?” he asked, his voice a seductive whisper.

you glanced at gojo, then at geto, who was still watching with that knowing smile, clearly entertained by the whole situation. after a brief pause, you let out a soft sigh, feeling the weight of the moment before finally closing your eyes. “fine,” you muttered, though your heart raced just a little faster, curious about what gojo had planned. “but this better be worth it.”

gojo’s smirk turned into a full grin, clearly enjoying your response. “oh, doll face,” he murmured, his voice soft and seductive. “you have no idea.”

he took a moment to appreciate your closed eyes, the slight rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips were parted just slightly. “you look so damn cute when you’re pretending not to be curious,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. without another word, he closed the gap between your faces, his lips gently pressing against yours in a soft kiss. his hand came up to cup your cheek as he kissed you, his touch gentle yet possessive.

geto, watching from the side, couldn't help but smile at the sight of you and gojo together. he admired his friend’s boldness and your willingness to play along. he leaned back, resting his head on one hand as he continued to observe the scene unfolding in front of him.

gojo’s kiss was slow and lazy, as if he had all the time in the world to explore your lips. his tongue gently teased its way into your mouth, tasting you, as his hand on your cheek held you in place.

as gojo’s lips moved against yours, you couldn't help but notice the faint taste of alcohol lingering on his breath. the flavor was subtle but unmistakable, making you smirk slightly against his kiss. you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your eyes fluttering open as you met his gaze. “seriously?” you muttered, raising an eyebrow. “you taste like a bar.”

your comment made gojo grin even wider, clearly unfazed by your observation. “can't help it, y/n,” he replied, his voice a low murmur. “we had a few drinks before you showed up, and i needed some liquid confidence to pull this off.”

his hand still lingered on your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. “but don’t worry, doll face,” he continued, his smile sly. “i have no plans to get wasted tonight.” geto, laying silently to the side, couldn’t help but laugh at your little argument. “don't worry, he knows his limits,” he chimed in, amused by the banter. he leaned back in, his lips brushing against yours again, his touch becoming more insistent. “besides,” he added, his tone growing sultry. “you don’t seem to mind the taste all that much.”

you smirked at gojo’s boldness, but when he leaned in for another kiss, you placed your hands on his chest and gave him a lazily shove. “alright, that’s enough,” you said with a light chuckle. “get off, satoru.”

gojo let out a mock pout as you pushed him back, clearly enjoying the game you were playing. “aw, come on, doll face,” he protested, his tone light and playful. “i was just getting started.” he reluctantly pulled back, rolling onto his back next to you, keeping close enough to maintain the playful banter. “you’re a tough nut to crack, aren’t you?” he teased, his eyes roaming over you with a mixture of amusement and desire.

you sat up, brushing off your clothes and throwing a pointed look at gojo. “last i checked, friends don’t go around kissing each other,” you said with a teasing smirk, though there was an edge of seriousness in your voice.

gojo chuckled, clearly unbothered by your comment. “friends don’t, but we’re not just friends, doll face,” he replied, his tone still playful. “we’re so much more than that.” he rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand as he looked at you, his eyes still roaming over your figure. “besides,” he continued, his smirk growing wider. “who said we can’t have a bit of fun between friends?”

you raised an eyebrow, giving gojo a look that was half amused, half exasperated. “you two are such a bad influence on me,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you leaned back on your hands with a can of open alcohol in your lap, trying to brush off his playful advances.

gojo let out a hearty laugh, clearly enjoying your response. “what can i say?” he replied, his tone unapologetic. “we enjoy pushing boundaries, and you make it so damn fun to do it.” geto, smiling from where he was sitting, couldn't help but chime in. “you know you love it, doll face,” he teased, his tone affectionate. “and you secretly like being a little bad on occasion.”

you let out a small huff, trying to keep up your facade of annoyance, but secretly enjoying the banter with gojo and geto. “yeah, yeah,” you muttered, taking a sip from the can of alcohol in your hands. “you both still suck.”

gojo and geto chuckled at your attempt to downplay your enjoyment. they knew how to read you too well. “you love sucking,” gojo quipped, his tone dripping with innuendo as he threw you a sly wink. geto, always the more subtle one, gave you a small smile. “you’re too adorable when you’re pretending to be annoyed, doll face,” he said, his tone gentle yet teasing. “we know you love the game as much as we do.”

you slapped gojo’s shoulder, shaking your head with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “stop being a pervert, satoru,” you said, giving him a pointed look, though the slight smile on your lips betrayed your seriousness. then, turning to geto, you raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “i’m not pretending,” you retorted, though your tone was lighter, a playful glint in your eyes. “you two just have a way of getting under my skin.”

gojo laughed heartily at your response, clearly unfazed by your attempt to push him back. “you love it when i’m a pervert,” he teased, his tone still playful, but there was something more beneath it.

geto leaned back, crossing his arms as he watched the interaction between the two of you. “and you enjoy every second we’re under your skin,” he added, his gaze fixated on you, a smile playing on his lips. “admit it, doll face. you love the chaos we bring.”

the three of you spent the late-night picnic talking and laughing, with you doing most of the drinking. as the night wore on, the cool air settled around you, and though you tried to ignore it, your body began to shiver slightly. geto was the first to notice, his gaze softening as he saw you trying to suppress the cold with a tipsy smile. without a word, he slipped off his jacket and gently draped it over your shoulders, the warmth immediately comforting against the chill.

“satoru, she’s freezing," he murmured quietly, his eyes flicking over to his friend. gojo, who had been teasing you moments earlier, looked over and saw the slight tremble in your frame. his smirk faded into a look of genuine concern as he scooted closer, wrapping an arm around you to pull you into his warmth. “should’ve told us sooner, doll face,” he said softly. “can’t have you freezing out here.”

“you really shouldn’t be wearing a dress in the middle of the night,” gojo muttered, his arm still around you as he looked down at your outfit. “at least grab a jacket next time. you’re lucky we’re here to keep you warm.”

geto chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. “he’s right, you know. we should’ve made you grab something warmer before heading out. but you were in such a rush to meet us, huh?” you rolled your eyes at their teasing, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “alright dad,” you joked, giggling uncontrollably, though you were grateful for their concern.

gojo and geto shared a smile at your sarcastic remark, amused by your drunk state. they notice you started getting more drunk as you continue to drown your body with alcohol, making you a bit more relaxed and carefree than usual and a lot more giggling and emotional.

gojo smirked, finding your giggling endearing. “we just want to make sure our doll face doesn't freeze her cute butt off,” he replied, his tone still light but with a hint of protectiveness. geto chuckled at your retort, his eyes filled with amusement and affection. “yeah, we don’t want our favorite girl catching a cold from being stubborn,” he added, his expression fond.

gojo tightened his arm around you, pulling you closer to his warm chest. “plus, we both know you look cute in our clothes,” he murmured, his voice slightly lower.

your drunken giggle bubbled out as you leaned further into gojo's chest, blinking slowly as your words slurred together. “mmm, you guys always think you’re so smart…” you blabbered, waving a hand dramatically. “i can dress myself... it’s just— just— sometimes your clothes are comfier… and smell nice…” you trailed off, another soft giggle escaping as you tugged at the sleeve of gojo’s shirt, clearly enjoying the warmth around you.

gojo chuckled warmly, clearly enjoying your disoriented state. “oh, we know you can dress yourself,” he replied, his tone playful yet affectionate. “but that doesn’t mean we can’t have the urge to baby you a little, doll face.”

geto, sitting next to you, was fighting back a smirk as he watched you, clearly amused but also incredibly fond. “besides, it’s not just the comfort and the smell,” he chimed in, his voice gentle but with a hint of teasing. “it’s also the fact that we like seeing you wearing our clothes, doll face.”

you giggled, lifting the can for another sip, but before it reached your lips, geto’s hand gently stopped yours. “alright, that’s enough, y/n,” he said, his tone firm yet caring as he smoothly took the can from you. “i think you’ve had more than enough fun for one night.”

you pouted, your eyes half-lidded and your cheeks flushed from the alcohol. “but i was jus’ getting started,” you slurred, a giggle bubbling up again as you leaned your head against gojo’s chest, your body swaying slightly. gojo chuckled, wrapping an arm more securely around you. “yeah, and if you keep going, we’ll be carrying you home, princess,” he teased, glancing at geto as they both shared an amused look.

geto smiled, setting the can aside before gently brushing a thumb over your cheek. “you’ve had a good time, and now it’s our turn to take care of you.” geto glanced at his watch, raising an eyebrow. “it’s almost three a.m.,” he muttered, looking over at gojo with a small sigh. “we better get her to dorm before she passes out.”

you frowned, trying to sit up but immediately swayed, your head falling back onto gojo’s shoulder. “i don’t wanna go,” you slurred, pouting as you tried to argue. “it’s... nice here. we should... stay longer.” gojo chuckled softly, his arm keeping you upright. “y/n, you can’t even keep your head straight without using me as a pillow,” he teased, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “you’ve had your fun. let us take you back, okay?”

geto nodded, agreeing with gojo’s assessment. “he's right, y/n,” he said, his tone warm but firm. “you’re clearly beyond tipsy right now and trying to get you back with as much dignity intact as possible is going to be hard enough.”

he smiled gently at your protest, though he could tell it was mostly the alcohol talking. “we’ll have plenty of nights just like this,” he assured you, his hand still resting on your cheek. “but right now, you need to let us take care of you.”

neither gojo nor geto paid any mind to your protests, already moving to help you stand. gojo slipped an arm under your shoulders, steadying you as you wobbled a bit. “come on, doll face, let’s get you home,” he said with a chuckle, his tone still teasing but soft.

geto grabbed the jacket draped over your shoulders, his smile widening as you giggled at his request. “hands up,” he instructed, waiting for you to follow through.

with a light laugh, you complied, your arms lifting into the air. geto gently slid his jacket over your arms and shoulders, adjusting it properly to keep you warm. “there you go,” he murmured, brushing off the sleeves. “all set.”

gojo grinned at the sight of you wrapped up in geto’s jacket, shaking his head. “you look adorable,” he added, his voice full of affection. geto chuckled softly as he stuffed the last of the trash into the basket, watching gojo struggle to keep you from wandering off. “you’ve got your hands full, huh?” he teased, glancing at his friend.

gojo rolled his eyes playfully, tightening his grip around you. “you have no idea.” once geto finished cleaning, gojo looked down at you, raising an eyebrow. “you think you can walk, doll face?”

you nodded enthusiastically, pulling away from his hold and attempting to walk. but before you even took two steps, your foot caught on the uneven grass, sending you tumbling face-first into the ground. gojo and geto both burst out laughing, though they quickly moved to help you up. “well, that answered the question,” gojo said between chuckles, kneeling beside you. “maybe walking’s not your best option right now.”

gojo chuckled softly after helping you back up, shaking his head. “you’re something else, doll face,” he muttered with a grin. noticing the length of your dress, he quickly took off his blue button-down shirt that he’d been using as an outer layer, carefully wrapping it around your waist to cover you up.

“can’t have you showing off something you’re not supposed to,” he teased, though his tone held a protective edge. once the shirt was securely tied, he crouched down in front of you. “alright, hop on,” he said, motioning for you to get on his back.

you giggled as you wobbled slightly, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him lift you with ease. gojo stood up, holding you securely on his back, while geto smirked, gathering the last of your things. “better safe than sorry,” geto remarked, watching as gojo adjusted his grip on you. “besides, she’s probably gonna fall asleep before we even make it home.”

gojo grinned, feeling your head already resting against his shoulder. “yeah, but at least she’ll be warm and covered up,” he said, starting to walk.

geto fell into step beside gojo as he carried you on his back, occasionally stealing glances at you. he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you, wrapped up in gojo’s shirt and his own jacket, your head resting against his friend’s shoulder. you looked so cute and vulnerable that it only heightened his protective instincts.

he couldn’t help but chuckle as you snuggled into gojo’s back, clearly getting comfortable. “she’s already halfway asleep,” he commented, his tone fond. “bet she won’t even remember this in the morning.”

hearing geto’s words, you didn’t say anything, only letting out a soft hum as you rested your cheek more comfortably against gojo’s shoulder. the warmth from his body, along with geto’s jacket wrapped around you, made you feel cocooned in safety. even in your drunken haze, you could feel how much they cared for you—more than you could express at the moment.

the thought flickered through your mind, a drunken blur, that despite how annoying they could be, they always looked out for you. they didn’t try to get you drunk for anything malicious or shady. they just wanted you to have fun, to relax, to forget about everything for a while. and they were here, right now, making sure you were safe, taking care of you, even though you were a mess.

a small, sleepy smile tugged at your lips as you felt grateful for their presence, too tired to say anything but comforted by the fact that they always had your back. you smiled softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you murmured, “you two… always been so nice to me…” your words slurred slightly from the alcohol, but the sincerity behind them was clear, forcing yourself to voice your gratitude.

gojo’s grip tightened around you as he heard your sleepy words, touched by the way you were trying to express yourself despite your drunk state. he glanced back at geto, silently conveying his own agreement with a small nod.

geto chuckled softly, shaking his head as he heard your slurred words. “you’re just saying that because you’re drunk, doll face,” he teased, though there was a hint of affection in his voice.

gojo couldn’t help but smile, his chest swelling with a mixture of emotions. “yeah, no way you’d be that sweet when you’re sober,” gojo added, his tone playful yet also fond. “you’re always so feisty and stubborn, but here you are, being all soft and adorable.” he glanced back at geto, who was watching you with a smile of his own. “though, it’s not like we mind. we like taking care of you. even when you’re a damn mess.”

you giggled softly between hiccups, your voice coming out in a mix of amusement and vulnerability. “maybe… and maybe i’ll regret saying this when i’m sober…” you paused for a moment, as if gathering your thoughts, before continuing in a low, almost shy tone. “but… i feel grateful to have you both in my life.”

gojo and geto’s footsteps momentarily faltered upon hearing your unexpected praise, clearly caught off guard by your vulnerable admission. they exchanged a quick glance, both trying to hide the mixture of surprise and warmth that filled their hearts.

gojo chuckled softly, his tone tinged with a hint of disbelief. “well damn, doll face, you know just how to surprise us, huh?” he teased, keeping his voice light to mask the sudden rush of emotions. “who knew you could be so damn sweet when you’re drunk?”

geto let out a small scoff, still trying to process your words. “maybe we should get you drunk more often,” he joked, unable to resist the temptation to tease you. but behind his lighthearted words, he could feel a wave of emotions surging through him. he’d never heard you say anything quite like that, and the fact that you were expressing it now, in this vulnerable state, only made it feel all the more significant.

gojo’s grip on you tightened slightly as he continued walking, the small action betraying the emotions churning inside him. “and here we thought you were too stubborn to admit something like that,” he commented, his tone a mix of mock surprise and affection.

geto couldn’t help but chime in, his own words carrying a hint of gentle ribbing. “yeah, doll face. you’ve been holding out on us. why didn’t you mention how grateful you are for us before?”

you stirred slightly at their teasing, your voice soft but slurred as you responded, “don’t… don’t go anywhere, okay?” your words carried a hint of vulnerability that was unusual for you, even in your drunken state while your arms tightened around gojo’s neck. “promise me… just stay with me.”

gojo and geto’s teasing smiles faded upon hearing the raw vulnerability in your voice, replaced by a mix of concern and affection.

gojo’s hand tightened around you, his heart clenching at your plea. “we’re right here, y/n. we’re not going anywhere,” he assured you, his tone gentle yet firm. geto reached out, his hand running gently through your hair as if to offer reassurance. “we’ll always be here for you. you don’t have to ask us to stay,” he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness.

geto saw as you continued to rest your cheek on gojo’s shoulder, but then you started to pucker your lips, and they began trembling before you broke down completely. tears spilled from your eyes as you expressed how hard it was for you at school without them, tightening your arms around gojo’s neck in a desperate attempt for comfort.

“it’s just so hard without you two,” you sobbed, your voice muffled against gojo’s shirt. “i feel so alone sometimes, and everything just gets overwhelming. i miss you both so much when you’re not there and everyone always pissing me off.”

geto’s expression shifted from concern to a gentle mix of amusement and warmth as he watched the dramatic flip your demeanor had taken. he couldn't help but chuckle softly. “there it is,” he said, shaking his head with a fond smile. “the alcohol really knows how to bring out the feelings, doesn’t it?”

gojo’s shoulders sank slightly as he listened to your tearful confession. he’d never seen you so emotionally vulnerable, and it was a stark reminder of the weight you carried on your shoulders.

“sshhh… it’s okay, doll face,” he soothed, his voice a soft murmur as he adjusted his grip on you, holding you even closer. “we’re here now, and we’re not going anywhere.” geto chuckled softly, his hand gently tousling your hair. “yeah, the alcohol definitely does that. you’re a real emotional mess right now.”

you continued to blubber, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to catch your breath. “it’s just… it’s so hard!” you slurred, your words tumbling out in a jumbled mess. “people are sooo annoying, and i’m just tryna keep it together, but… but it feels like everything’s falling apart!” your voice cracked, and you tightened your grip around gojo's neck, burying your face against his shoulder, the warmth of his body a comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions.

gojo couldn’t help but laugh softly at your state, the sound light and playful as he gently shook his head. “you’re such a crybaby right now,” he teased, a grin spreading across his face.

a small chuckle escaped from geto, who couldn't help but find your drunken state endearing. he knew you were usually tough and composed, so seeing you so emotional and vulnerable was a sight he couldn’t resist ribbing you for.

he smirked slightly, his hand still running gently through your hair. “yeah, doll face, you’re really letting it all out now, huh?” he teased, his tone a mix of amusement and affection.

gojo couldn’t help but join in, his own voice tinged with warmth and familiarity. he chuckled again, the sound gentler this time. he gently patted your thigh on his arm, his voice filled with a mix of affection and banter. “you’re acting like the world is ending, doll face. but you know we’re not going anywhere. you’re stuck with us.”

a soft groan escaped your lips as the whirlwind of emotions and alcohol started to catch up with you. your stomach churned uneasily, and you made a sound that sent a flicker of concern across both their faces. “uh-oh…” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, but the warning was clear enough. “i think i’m about to throw up…”

gojo’s eyes widened in alarm as your words registered, his playful demeanor instantly replaced by genuine panic. “wait, what?!” he exclaimed, his grip on you tightening as if that could somehow prevent the impending disaster. “don’t you dare throw up on me! i just wrapped my shirt around you!”

geto, meanwhile, paled slightly as he heard your warning. “oh lord, not on my jacket,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of panic. both of them knew from experience that dealing with a drunk person who was throwing up was never a fun time.

gojo glanced at geto, a mixture of worry and annoyance etched across his features. “great, just what we needed,” he muttered, his tone tinged with resignation. “now what?”

you felt the pressure building in your stomach, and instinctively, you pressed your lips into a tight line, your expression shifting from emotional to desperate in an instant. the gagging sounds escaped you involuntarily, and you shot a pleading look at gojo, silently begging him to understand the urgency of the situation.

gojo noticed the shift in your demeanor immediately. his eyes darted back to geto, who looked equally alarmed. “uh, satoru…” geto started, his voice low, “i think she really can’t hold it anymore.”

gojo’s heart raced as he processed your silent plea. “okay, okay,” he muttered, shifting you slightly so he could support you with one arm while he lowered you to the ground. “just hang on a second, we’re gonna get you—”

the moment your feet touched the grass, you bent forward, unable to hold back any longer. the sounds of retching filled the air as you lost the battle against your stomach, the contents of your stomach spilling onto the ground.

gojo’s eyes widened in horror as he jumped back instinctively. “no, no, no!” he exclaimed, quickly covering his nose with his shirt and stepping away. “not on my watch!”

geto, though slightly more composed, grimaced and held his jacket that still cling to your body so the vomit didn't get to the fabric, trying to shield it from the chaos unfolding. “please aim away from me!” he called out, half-amused and half-concerned, though he couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculousness of the situation.

as the wave of nausea passed, you felt a mix of embarrassment and relief, your eyes watering slightly from the effort. you straightened up slowly, panting as you tried to regain your composure, glancing up at your two friends. “sorry…” you mumbled, feeling the heat of embarrassment flood your cheeks.

gojo's shock slowly shifted to annoyance as the reality of the situation sank in. “ugh, that’s just great,” he muttered, his voice filled with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. he clutched his shirt tightly against his nose, as if that could shield him from the smell.

geto, on the other hand, struggled to contain his laughter, the sight of the situation too ridiculous to ignore. “oh man, that’s just priceless,” he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “you really couldn’t hold it in, could you, doll face?”

you opened your mouth to respond, only to raise a finger as you realized another wave of nausea was crashing over you. “wait—just a minute,” you managed to say weakly, but before you could finish, you bent down again, grasping the electric pole beside you for support.

gojo and geto both groaned in disgust, instinctively recoiling slightly at the sight, but their instincts kicked in immediately. gojo tightened his grip on the shirt around your waist, while geto held his jacket close to your body, determined to keep it safe from the mess.

“oh, come on!” gojo exclaimed, a mix of exasperation and concern in his voice as he held your hair back with one hand, making sure it stayed out of your face. “this is not how i envisioned tonight going!”

geto couldn’t contain his laughter, even as he grimaced at the situation. “this is a wild ride, i’ll give you that,” he said, trying to keep the mood light despite the stench that lingered in the air. “just remember, we still love you, even when you’re a walking disaster.”

as you heaved again, the world around you faded for a moment, your focus narrowing to the relief of letting it all out. you felt gojo’s gentle grip on your hair and the warmth of geto’s jacket against your skin, a comforting reminder that they were there for you, even in your most vulnerable moments.

through your tears and nausea, you continued to heave, your body wracked with the effort. “don’t look at me!” you managed to cry out between gasps, your voice trembling as you felt utterly exposed and vulnerable. “i swear, i’m going to kill you both if you look!”

both gojo and geto couldn’t help but chuckle at your threat, knowing full well that it was an empty one given your current state.

“oh relax, doll face,” geto responded, a trace of amusement in his voice. “you’re not exactly radiating a sexy glow right now. we’re too busy holding onto you to look at you in that way.” gojo joined in, a sardonic smirk on his face. “yeah, we’re more concerned about avoiding your vomit shower than checking you out.”

as your body convulsed with the force of your heaves, gojo couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy mixed with the disgust. he leaned in a little closer, his tone a strange mixture of comfort and concern. “just let it all out, doll face. you’ll feel better once you get it all out of your system.”

geto chimed in again, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. “yeah, go ahead and make a mess. we’re still holding our noses here, so keep doing your thing.”

as you continued to cry and throw up, the embarrassment washed over you in waves, but the reassurance of their presence somehow made it a little more bearable. you could feel their concern even without looking at them, and despite your irritation, a small part of you appreciated the way they stood by you in such an embarrassing moment.

after a few more moments, you finally began to feel the nausea subside, and you leaned against the pole, panting heavily. “i’m never drinking again, this is the last,” you vowed weakly, wiping your tears and taking a moment to catch your breath, feeling both drained and slightly relieved.

gojo and geto exchanged a quick glance, both of them raising an eyebrow at your declaration. “yeah, sure,” gojo drawled, a mix of skepticism and mockery in his voice. “and pigs will fly next. we’ve heard that one before, doll face.”

geto chuckled softly, his hand still holding onto the jacket to keep it safe from the mess. “you wouldn’t be the first one to swear off alcohol after a night like this. let’s see if you remember that promise in the morning.”

as you started to lower yourself to the ground, oblivious to the fact that you were about to sit right in your own mess, both gojo and geto sprang into action. “no, wait!” gojo shouted, his voice rising in panic as he lunged forward, grabbing your arm just in time. “don’t sit there!”

geto’s eyes widened in horror as he quickly pulled you back, his face contorting in disgust. “what the hell are you doing? are you trying to ruin my jacket too?” he exclaimed, his tone a mix of urgency and frustration. “you have zero sense of awareness, you know that?” gojo continued, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re such an idiot, doll face! do you want to stain my shirt too?”

the two of them groaned in unison, exasperated yet amused by the absurdity of the situation. gojo pulled you back against him, ensuring you didn’t accidentally land anywhere near the spot where you’d just thrown up. “let’s just get you cleaned up before you make this even worse,” geto said, a hint of laughter in his voice despite the annoyance. “you really are a mess tonight.”

your lips pursed into a pout as you felt their grip tighten around you, a mix of embarrassment and irritation bubbling up inside. “you’re both so mean,” you complained, your voice still shaky from the tears and the alcohol. “i’m just trying to sit down!”

as they guided you toward the nearby convenience store on the other side of the road, your arms fell on your side, you shot them a sideways glance, your eyes narrowing slightly.

gojo couldn't help but roll his eyes at your complaint, his tone laced with a hint of mockery. “oh, stop whining, doll face. you're the one who decided to make a mess and then tried to sit in it. we're just trying to keep you from completely destroying our clothes and our sanity.”

geto chuckled, his arm wrapped around your waist as he helped you walk toward the convenience store. “yeah, we might be mean, but you’re certainly not making it easy on us. you’re like a walking disaster zone right now.”

gojo’s playful smirk faded for a moment as he took in your state—disheveled hair, tear-streaked cheeks, and the lingering remnants of your earlier mishap. a flicker of concern crossed his features as he realized just how vulnerable you looked.

“alright, hold on a second,” he said, shaking his head slightly to clear his thoughts. “i’ll buy her some water. you just… stay here and try not to let her fall over or anything.” he gave you a pointed look, trying to convey the seriousness of his words despite the playful undertone in his voice before looking at geto.

geto nodded, his grip on you tightening slightly to steady you. “yeah, no problem. just hurry up before she decides to do something else ridiculous.”

with that, gojo turned and headed towards the convenience store, leaving you and geto alone for a moment. geto sighed, his gaze fixed on you as he tried to figure out how to keep you stable and maintain a semblance of composure.

geto looked down at you, his heart aching a little at the sight. your head rested against his chest, the warmth of your body a stark contrast to the cool night air. your cheeks were flushed a bright red from the alcohol and tears, making you look even more vulnerable.

he couldn't help but chuckle softly, shaking his head slightly. “look at you... such a mess,” he murmured, pulling out his handkerchief from his pants pocket. the fabric was soft against your skin as he gently wiped your tear-streaked cheeks and the remnants of your earlier outburst from around your mouth.

“just breathe, okay?” he said softly, his voice steady and reassuring as he focused on cleaning your face. when he notices your sniffles, his expression softens further. “there, there, don’t cry, doll, you will be alright,” he reassured you, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek as he finished wiping away the last traces of your tears.

geto felt a surge of protectiveness toward you; he wanted nothing more than to ensure you felt safe and cared for in that moment. “you’re going to be alright, princess. we’ve got you,” he added, his voice warm and soothing, hoping to ease your discomfort and bring you a bit of comfort amidst the chaos.

you looked up at geto through your lashes, a mixture of drunkenness and vulnerability making your eyes glossy and unfocused. the coolness of his handkerchief against your skin helped to anchor you in the present moment, his gentle touch and soothing words creating a small bubble of safety in the midst of the chaos.

a shaky breath escaped your lips, and you leaned into his touch, seeking comfort in his presence. your voice was small and wavering as you spoke. “sorry,” you whisper.

geto’s expression softened further as he heard the apology in your voice. he knew that deep down, you were likely feeling embarrassed and vulnerable in your current state. knowing you, he could only imagine the range of emotions running through your mind in this chaotic night.

he couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, his tone laced with affection as he shook his head slightly. “don’t worry about it,” he reassured you gently. “you’ve had quite a night, and your body’s just trying to cope with all the poison you poured into it.”

gojo emerged from the convenience store, a satisfied grin on his face as he held a cold water bottle in one hand and a mint candy in the other. he spotted you and geto, who was still attending to your emotional state, and made his way over with a sense of purpose.

“look what i got,” he announced, waving the water bottle playfully. “water to rehydrate and a mint to freshen up that mouth of yours. you definitely need it after that little incident.”

he bent slightly down to your level, the playful banter returning to his voice. after opening the cap, he lifted the bottle to your lips, tilting it gently so you could take a sip. “drink slowly. i don’t want you to choke on it,” he advised, his tone light yet caring.

you followed his instructions, sipping the water slowly and appreciatively. the coolness of the liquid brought a sense of relief, washing away the unpleasant aftertaste left by your earlier fiasco.

despite his initial banter, gojo’s voice carried a subtle hint of concern. he was clearly trying to balance the situation with his usual playfulness. “yeah, that’s it, doll face. drink up. you don’t want to be dehydrated on top of everything else.”

geto chuckled, watching as gojo took charge of taking care of you. his eyes followed the movement of the water bottle as it touched your lips, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. he knew that deep down, underneath the banter and the quips, gojo was genuinely concerned for your well-being. the fact that he was putting on a lighthearted front for your sake didn’t escape him.

once you had a good amount of water in you, he pulled the bottle away, holding it securely in one hand. with the other, he offered you the mint candy, grinning as he watched you process what he was doing. “here, try this. it’ll help with the aftertaste,” he said, his expression softening as he focused on you, ensuring you felt cared for amidst the chaos of the late night.

you let out a relieved sigh as the cool, minty flavor spread across your tongue, washing away the remnants of the previous unpleasantness. “thanks, satoru,” you murmured, your voice still slightly wobbly but grateful.

as you thanked him, gojo's expression softened even further. the sight of you, still vulnerable but slowly regaining some semblance of composure, tugged at his heart a little. he reached out, gently patting your head affectionately. his other hand stuffed the water bottle into his pocket, his usual casual attitude on display. “don’t mention it, doll face. just trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity after that shitshow.”

geto chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “spoken like a true friend,” he teased, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “always looking out for others, even when they’re a hot mess.”

you groaned, burying your face against geto's chest in a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “this is so embarrassing,” you mumbled, your cheeks still flushed from both the alcohol and the earlier crying. leaning your head back against him, you let out a soft sigh, wishing you could just disappear for a moment.

geto chuckled again, his voice playful and teasing. “come on, it’s not that bad. you’ve had a rough night, but at least you’ve got us to help you through it.” he glanced down at you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “so, are you ready to head back to the dorm yet? or do you need more time to wallow in your embarrassment?”

you lifted your head slightly, meeting his gaze. the warmth in his eyes made you feel a bit better, and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “i guess i’m ready... but only if you promise to carry me, i don’t think i can walk,” you replied, trying to lighten the mood despite the lingering embarrassment and hide your lazily by pretending.

geto let out an exaggerated groan, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and mock annoyance. “you are so annoying, you know that?” he teased, his voice laced with playful frustration. “a real pain in the ass. but fine, i guess i can’t just leave you here to wallow in your own mess.”

but despite his annoyance, he crouched down in front of you, giving you a frown as he gestured for you to hop on. “alright, but be quick about it. i don’t have all night, and if you don’t hurry, i’m just going to make you walk your ass back to the dorm,” he said, his tone half-serious but filled with laughter.

you couldn’t help but laugh at his antics, the embarrassment fading a little as you realized how lucky you were to have such supportive friends. you could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes as you scrambled to climb onto his back, finally letting out a breath of relief. “thanks, suguru. you’re the best,” you murmured, feeling a little less embarrassed now that he was there to support you.

geto's shoulders shook slightly with laughter as he felt you climb onto his back, the familiar weight of you bringing a sense of comfort. “yeah, yeah,” he replied, his voice filled with mock arrogance. “and don’t you forget it.”

he stood up slowly, lifting you with ease despite the alcohol still coursing through your system. he patted your legs lightly, ensuring that you were secure before he started walking down the sidewalk with gojo at his side. “just lean on me alright?” he said, tone gentle but firm, “and don’t make a mess of my clothes this time,” he added before slowly, lifting you with ease.

gojo chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as he glanced sideways at the two of you. “you’re such a little diva, doll face,” he teased affectionately, his tone light and playful. “making us do all the work while you just cling onto us and make a mess like a koala.”

you chuckled softly, the warmth of geto's presence making you feel a little more at ease. “that’s what friends are for, right? to kiss, spoil, and carry me on their backs,” you replied with a playful smirk, relishing the banter between the three of you.

geto raised an eyebrow, feigning disbelief. “kiss, huh? i don’t remember signing up for that,” he joked, his voice dripping with sarcasm while he kept walking steadily. “maybe i should start charging you for all this ‘friendship’.”

gojo laughed, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “yeah, right! you’d be broke in a week with how much she asks for,” he chimed in, glancing back at you with a teasing grin. “nut i guess it’s only fair since you’re the one putting in all the hard work tonight. plus, you’ve got us looking after you. just be careful with all that diva energy; it might get you into trouble.”

you grinned, feeling the lightness of the moment wrap around you like a warm blanket. “trouble? me? never!” you replied with an exaggerated gasp, leaning a little more against geto as he carried you. “i’m just a delicate flower that needs constant care!”

as you leaned against geto and spoke with a melodramatic tone, gojo just rolled his eyes, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “oh, of course. because you’re the epitome of innocence, doll face. a perfect angel, never causing any trouble at all,” he chuckled, his steps matching the steady rhythm of geto’s strides. “yeah, just keep telling yourself that, doll face. as if we haven’t seen you cause chaos for shits and giggles before.”

you pouted, your voice soft as you mumbled, “so mean...” before falling silent. the teasing had taken its toll, and the exhaustion from the night was finally catching up with you. without saying another word, you rested your cheek against geto’s shoulder, feeling the comforting rhythm of his steps.

gojo noticed the shift in your demeanor and chuckled a little. “looks like the bantering wore her out, huh?” he said, glancing over at geto with an amused smile.

geto, who was comfortably carrying you on his back, felt your weight against his shoulders. he shot a glance over his own shoulder at you, noticing how you had quieted down. a small, subtle smile tugged at his lips at the sight of you resting your cheek against him, the exhaustion written all over your face.

“i think she’s finally hit her limit,” he replied, his voice quieter now, concern seeping into his tone as he glanced ahead, ensuring the path was clear. gojo nodded in agreement. “yeah, no doubt about it. looks like she’s all tuckered out after all that mischief.” the both of them continued their journey in a comfortable silence, the only sound being the gentle rustle of the night wind and the soft echo of their footsteps on the pavement beneath them.

they finally reached your dorm room, gojo pulled the key from his pocket, the one he had copied with your permission for situations just like this. with a click, he unlocked the door and stepped inside, turning on the light with a quick flick of his fingers. the warm glow of the room filled the space, casting a soft, welcoming light.

geto, who had been carrying you on his back the entire way, walked deeper into the room, his steps careful as he approached your bed. he gently lowered you onto the mattress, making sure not to wake you as your body sank into the soft sheets. his hand lingered for a moment, brushing some hair away from your face as you slept, your breathing steady and peaceful.

gojo leaned against the wall beside your bed, watching the scene with a faint smile. “looks like she’s out cold. at least we won’t have to deal with any more drunk rambling,” he remarked quietly, though his tone was more affectionate than teasing now.

geto chuckled softly, his voice matching the quiet of the room, as he stepped back from the bed. “yeah, not so much as a peep,” he said, shaking his head slightly, his gaze still on your sleeping figure.

gojo walked over to the side of the bed, his eyes scanning your peaceful expression. the playful banter and teasing that always came so naturally to him were replaced by a softened expression—an indication of his genuine concern for you. “she’s lucky to have ‘friends’ like us, watching out for her.”

geto chuckled, his laughter soft as he knelt beside the bed, carefully slipping off your shoes and socks. “nah, lucky’s not the word,” he disagreed, glancing at gojo with a wry smile. “we're just hopeless, man. let’s face it—we're not just looking out for her. we’re wrapped around her finger, whether we admit it or not.” he glanced down at you, still sound asleep, before shaking his head with a hint of fondness. “it’s not about being friends anymore, is it? we’re both just idiots with a massive crush.”

gojo let out a quiet scoff, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “speak for yourself, suguru,” he retorted, his voice filled with mock indignation. “i’m the epitome of cool, aloof detachment. i don't get wrapped around anyone’s finger.” despite his words, his gaze was fixed on your sleeping form, unable to deny the truth in geto’s statement. his expression was a mix of both annoyance and amusement.

geto rolled his eyes, a knowing smile on his face. “yeah, sure, satoru,” he responded sarcastically. “you keep telling yourself that. you’re about as detached as a puppy following its owner around.” he continued fussing over you, pulling a blanket over your body, making sure you were comfortable, and ensuring you were safe. all while simultaneously shooting gojo a knowing look, as if to say “you’re not fooling anyone.”

gojo grumbled a little, his expression a mix of annoyance and stubbornness. “psh, whatever. i just have a strong protective instinct,” he retorted, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. he watched geto, his eyes following his every move as he took care of you. he couldn’t help but feel a pang of annoyance at geto’s smugness, but he knew deep down that he was right.

“i just like to make sure she’s safe, that’s all,” he mumbled, the defensiveness in his voice hinting at his deeper feelings towards you. “and i’m just here because i don’t trust you to look after her by yourself. someone’s gotta keep you in line.”

despite his denial, gojo walked over to your little vanity, grabbing a cotton pad and some cleansing water he didn’t know the name of but recognized from seeing you use it often to clean your face and remove your makeup.

he sat by the edge of the bed, the cotton pad in hand, and glanced at geto. gojo huffed, clearly not liking the amused look on geto's face. “what? i’m just being practical here,” he shot back, his brows furrowing as he held the cotton pad and water bottle in his hands like a shield against geto's teasing.

“you know how she gets about her skin. if she wakes up with her makeup still on, she’s going to complain about it in the morning and bleed our ears off,” he added, a hint of seriousness creeping into his voice. “you know how she gets about that stuff—like, ‘oh my god, i’ll get a pimple!’”

geto chuckled softly, shaking his head at gojo’s words. “yeah, yeah, mister practical over here,” he teased, watching with amusement as gojo started to clean your makeup-smudged face. “just admit it, you care too much about her even when she’s too drunk to care. and you can’t stand the thought of her complaining about it in the morning.”

his eyes gleamed with a hint of mischief. “you’re wrapped around her finger just as much as i am, but you just can’t bring yourself to admit it, can you?” gojo shot geto a glare, his eyes narrowing slightly at the comment. “shut it, would you?” he grumbled, focusing his attention on the task at hand.

he gently dabbed the cotton pad, soaked in the cleansing water, against your face, meticulously removing every trace of makeup. his touch was surprisingly gentle considering the gruffness in his voice. his fingers careful against your skin, trying not to be too harsh.

“i just don’t want to hear any whining in the morning,” he muttered, his voice still defensive. “and i can’t stand the thought of her waking up looking like a raccoon.”

geto chuckled again at gojo’s words, his eyes never leaving his friend. “sure, that’s all it is. you’re just doing it for practical reasons,” he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. “if it was about avoiding whining, why not just let me deal with it? i can handle a few complaints in the morning. but nooo, you had to step in and become mr. cleanse-your-face-with-gentle-tender-care.”

gojo’s mouth opened, clearly ready to fire back a retort, but the moment you stirred, both he and geto froze. their eyes darted to you as you shifted slightly in your sleep before settling back down. the room was dead silent for a moment, gojo holding his breath, waiting to see if you’d wake.

when you didn’t, gojo shot a glare at geto, who was still kneeling by the bed with an amused smirk on his face. without hesitation, gojo kicked him—not too hard, but enough to make geto stumble slightly and fall backward onto the floor.

“shut up,” gojo hissed, his tone sharp but low enough not to disturb you.

geto, lying on the floor, looked up at him with a wide grin, chuckling softly as he rubbed his side where gojo had kicked him. “jeez, you really are on edge tonight,” he teased, his voice barely a whisper, though the amusement in his tone was undeniable.

gojo grumbled under his breath, rolling his eyes as he tried to keep his focus on you. “just be quiet,” he muttered, glaring at the man before continue to clean your face while geto continued to laugh quietly from his spot on the floor.

“you know, you’re just proving my point,” geto chuckled, pulling himself up from the floor and sitting back down. “you’re so concerned about keeping her happy even when she's unconscious. if it was just about avoiding bitching tomorrow, you’d just let me deal with it.”

his eyes watched as you slept, his expression slightly softer than usual. “but no, you’re going all out on the whole gentle-care routine. you can deny it all you want, but we both know the truth.” he moved off the floor, leaning in to fix stray hairs that had fallen out of place, tucking them behind your ear. geto leaned over to place a soft kiss on your forehead, his voice barely a whisper. “sweet dreams, doll face.”

gojo move slightly on the edge of the bed, a weary sigh escaping him. the long day was catching up to him, evident in the way he rubbed his face before slumping down. he glanced at geto, his tone filled with both exhaustion and exasperation. “i should kick your ass for that, man. but i’m too tired to do anything.”

geto chuckled, shaking his head as he watched gojo’s dramatic display. “yeah, yeah, satoru. you’re real tough when you’re not exhausted,” he teased, his voice quiet. “but alright, i’ll cut you some slack this time. just try not to be too grumpy in the morning. i can’t handle your mood swings on top of doll face’s hangover tantrum.”

he looked over at you, his expression softening a little. “it’s always something with her, isn’t it?” he said, a trace of fondness in his voice.

gojo raised an eyebrow, his exhaustion making his expression even more deadpanned than usual. “psh, don’t pretend like you’re exempt from the drama. i’ve seen you and her both get into more trouble than a pair of monkeys on a sugar high. and we both know who’s the one who always ends up being the responsible one, bailing your asses out.”

he leaned back on the headboard, propping his feet up on the bed beside you. “seriously, between your combined forces of chaos and her uncanny ability to draw in trouble, you two are bound to make my life a living hell one of these days.” despite his words, gojo pulls a blanket over your body before leaning down gives you a kiss on the forehead.

geto watched gojo with a soft smile, his teasing momentarily replaced by a more tender expression. “alright, i gotta give it to you; that was sweet. but i bet ten bucks she’s gonna wake up and start whining about her hangover and blame it on us.”

[strayingawayy]

ʷʰʸ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵉˡⁱⁿᵉˢˢ? ;

ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ⁱᵗ._

(inspired by hyunjin's quill pen)

the moonlight spilled softly through the window, casting long shadows on the floor. hyunjin sat by the edge of your bed, his fingers tracing the lines of his sketchbook, the quiet scratching of his pencil the only sound in the room. you watched him from your spot, wrapped in a thin blanket, the silence between you two palpable, heavy.

for a while, you'd convinced yourself that his presence was enough. the way his dark eyes would light up when he smiled, the way his fingers would brush against yours when he passed you in the hall—those fleeting moments of connection made you believe that, perhaps, you were getting what you needed. but lately, it felt as though you were floating beside him, never really close enough to touch the surface.

you had always been afraid of this feeling, of giving too much and yet still not having enough. the ache of wanting more from someone who seemed like they had nothing left to give.

"hyunjin," you called softly, your voice trembling slightly. he didn't respond immediately, too focused on his drawing, his eyes flicking back and forth from the page to the shadows cast on the floor. you swallowed thickly, feeling the weight of the silence between you grow heavier by the second.

"do you ever feel like you're alone, even when you're with someone?" you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them.

he paused. the pencil hovered over the page, and for a moment, you thought he might not answer.

"why would you say that?" he murmured, his voice low and almost distant.

you felt the sting of your own words. “i don’t know... maybe because sometimes, when i'm with you, i still feel... lonely.”

his head snapped up, eyes meeting yours in a flash of confusion and something darker. he set his pencil down, running a hand through his messy hair, and leaned back on his hands, looking at you more intently now. “what do you mean?”

the space between you two felt unbearably large, and yet, you couldn't seem to close it. “you... you’re always here, physically. but you’re not really here, are you?”

hyunjin shifted slightly, a brief flicker of discomfort crossing his face. his gaze dropped to the floor as he processed your words, and his lips parted as if to speak, but he held back.

"i don’t understand," you whispered, feeling your heart race. "why does your love feel like loneliness?"

you had been holding your breath for so long, and the question hung in the air, sharp and vulnerable.

his eyes softened, but his lips remained pressed in a tight line. slowly, he walked over to the bed, sitting next to you. his warmth radiated through the thin fabric of the blanket, and you felt a moment of relief, like you could finally breathe. but the distance still lingered—an invisible wall that neither of you seemed able to break.

"sometimes," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "i think it's because i’m scared of giving too much. you need so much of me... but i don’t know if i can be everything you want. what if i fall short?"

you met his eyes, searching for any sign that this was more than just the casual hesitation of a relationship. there was something deeper there, an ache of his own that he had never shared.

“i don’t need everything, hyunjin,” you said, reaching out to touch his arm. “i just need you—the real you. not the version you think i want.”

he flinched slightly at your touch, but there was no retreat in his eyes, no defense. he leaned forward, closer to you, as though the weight of his own emotions were too much to bear from a distance.

“i’m sorry,” he murmured, voice thick with something unspoken. his lips brushed against your cheek in the softest, almost fleeting touch, but it felt like a promise. “i just don’t know how to love like you do.”

your breath caught in your throat, the closeness making the air between you burn with longing. “you don’t have to, hyunjin. just... just let me in.”

his hand brushed against your cheek, so tender you almost doubted it was real. "i'm afraid you'll see that i'm not enough."

“you are,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “you are enough for me.”

for a long moment, neither of you moved. you simply stayed there, close enough to feel the unspoken connection between you two, the weight of your shared isolation pressing down on your hearts. the moonlight bathed you both in silver, and for a fleeting moment, the loneliness began to fade.

but even as his lips gently touched yours, soft and questioning, you both knew there was more to navigate—more pain to untangle before you could truly be together, in every sense of the word.

the distance wasn’t gone, but it was a little smaller. maybe that was enough—for now.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗞 𝗡𝗢𝗪

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where it's Y/N's wedding day, but Matt isn't the groom. During the ceremony, an act of impulse on the boy's part changes the fate of everything.

WARNING: Slightly angst, but with a happy ending!

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The cool orange color of the corner lamp lightly illuminated the walls of Matt's room, painting the room with a serene aura. He was still in his bed, mentally preparing himself to get up and start the day slowly, his thoughts still hazy from sleep, a low voice reminding him of the tasks he had to do - writing the script for the next video, answering emails, and posting his collaboration with Prada.

For a moment, he allowed himself to bask in the feeling of tranquility, but that peace was abruptly interrupted when the sound of his bedroom door slamming open echoed through the walls.

Matt turned abruptly to the source of the sound, frowning and opening his mouth to curse whoever had barged into his room so suddenly, but the words caught in his throat when he saw Nick standing there, his eyes wide and his hand holding an envelope tightly.

"Nick, what the fuck?" Matt's voice sounded hoarse and rough from lack of use as his eyes traveled from Nick's face to the envelope and back again.

"Matt... It's from Y/N." Nick muttered apprehensively.

The boy sat down abruptly on the mattress when he heard his ex name, watching Nick slowly approaching and leaving the envelope on the crumpled comforter that covered the younger boy's legs.

"I don't know what it's about, I just found it on the floor in front of the front door."

Matt took the paper delicately, a feeling of apprehension growing in his chest as he recognized Y/N's elegant handwriting on the sender, his own name, and his brother's in the recipient field. His mind wondered why she had sent that, who even sends letters through mail in 2024?

With shaking hands, he tore open the envelope and removed the paper inside, barely noticing Nick's silent exit. His heart sank when he noticed that it wasn't just any paper. It was an invitation... a wedding invitation.

The words printed in embossed letters and in gold color on high quality paper, announcing the day she would become the wife of her current boyfriend, or rather, fiancé.

An overwhelming mix of emotions hit him head-on. Matt gasped, holding the invitation as if it were a precious artifact, but also a knife that pierced his heart. He could feel the bitter taste of regret filling his mouth as his memories with Y/N ​​flooded his mind.

He found himself transported back to the happy days when they were together, each moment shining in vivid colors before his eyes. The shared laughter, the hugs on cold or hot nights, the whispered promises of eternal love... Everything seemed so close, and yet so far away.

Tears threatened to flood his eyes as he struggled to process the magnitude of the situation. He bitterly regretted letting Y/N go, letting his insecurities and fears ruin what they shared. He knew he had no one else to blame but himself for his own loneliness.

A violent internal struggle unfolded within the boy. A part of him wanted to throw the invitation through the window, refuse to witness the ceremony that would tear him up even more inside. But another part, a stubborn and masochistic part, insisted on attending, as if seeing Y/N unite with another man was the punishment he deserved for his failures.

Matt clutched the invitation tightly in his hand, lightly crumpling the expensive paper, feeling fragile and broken. Every beat of his heart echoed with the weight of a decision he didn't know if he was capable of making. He felt the weight of loss pressing down on his shoulders, the pain of a wound that never seemed to heal.

Silent tears streamed down his cheeks as he fought his emotions in turmoil. He loved Y/N more than anything in this world, and even though he had already lost her the day he saw her walk through his bedroom door for the last time, he still held on to the narrow thread of hope he had in him, but now he was in danger of losing her forever, and it tormented him to the core of his soul.

With an anguished sigh, Matt finally let out a choked sob, pressing his hand against his mouth to muffle the ugly sounds, quickly glancing at the door left ajar by Nick. The last thing he wanted was to worry his brothers.

He knew he had no choice but to face the painful reality that Y/N would move on without him. He wished, with all his being, that things could have been different, that he could go back in time and right the wrongs he had made.

But now, all he could do was accept the invitation he held in his trembling hand and prepare to witness the love of his life being given to someone else.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt took a deep breath as he, along with his brothers, entered the imposing church where Y/N's wedding was about to take place. The decor details seemed to jump out, a lush fusion of fresh flowers - Y/N's favorite - and delicate fabrics, creating a fairytale atmosphere, exactly as he and Y/N had fantasized about for so many nights.

The rows of chairs were lined up precisely, each adorned with a floral arrangement. Matt watched the carefully planned details, feeling a pang in his heart.

As he rotated his gaze around the space, his eyes met Y/N's parents accompanied by her fiancé, who was already looking back at the triplets. Matt's eyes widened slightly when he noticed the man open a gentle smile towards him, a strange feeling of resignation and envy flooding him almost automatically.

Victor, who he saw so much of only through Y/N's social media, was tall, with slightly curly brown hair that shone in the light, and vibrant blue eyes that seemed to reflect genuine joy. Matt couldn't help but notice how he perfectly fit the stereotype of the type of man Y/N always seemed to prefer - an observation that left a sour taste in his mouth.

The boy wondered if Y/N really had a specific type or if it was just a coincidence that he and her fiancé shared similar characteristics.

He forced himself to look away, his mind a mess of conflicting emotions and his heart screaming that he should just turn around and go back home. With a resigned sigh, Matt followed his brothers as they found their assigned seats.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Matt's heart was in turmoil as he anxiously awaited the long-awaited moment of the bride's entrance. His eyes darted nervously around the church, his breath caught in his throat as he tried to control the flood of thoughts that threatened to consume him.

And then, as if time had slowed down, soft music filled the air, announcing Y/N's arrival. His breath seemed to catch as he saw her appear in the aisle, a glimpse of ethereal beauty in her stunning wedding dress. His heart was filled with a mix of joy and pain when he saw her so perfect.

Matt thought he would only see her in a wedding dress on their own wedding day.

Tears threatened to blur his vision as he fought to hold them back. He wanted to scream from the rooftops and release all his pent-up anger, but his words were lost in the void of his silent anguish.

"Matt, are you okay?" Chris asked beside him in an almost muted whisper, only receiving a short nod in return.

As she approached the altar, Matt felt his leg begin to bounce involuntarily in a mixture of anxiety and hesitation. Every step she took seemed to sound like an echo in his own broken heart, a constant reminder of what could have been but would never be.

He had to do something.

When Y/N finally reached the foot of the altar, Matt clenched his right hand into a fist tightly, his teeth biting his thumbnail in a desperate attempt to contain whatever was wanting to come out. He watched with a lump in his throat as she and Victor turned face-to-face, everything sounding muffled against his ears.

He had to.

Every word spoken was like a knife in his heart. He wondered if Y/N could feel the intensity of his emotions, if she could see the love and sadness mixed in his eyes as her own eyes circled the room momentarily, carrying a mix of nervousness and anxiety.

Silence hung in the church, heavy and dense, as the priest finished his solemn last words.

"If anyone has anything to say against this union, speak now or forever remain silent." Finally came the phrase so feared and long awaited.

The priest's voice echoed through the sacred space, resounding off the walls as the guests held their breath. Matt felt his heart hammer in his chest, almost hearing it in his ears, a tumultuous mix of fear and determination swirling in his mind.

He needed to.

And then, before he could think twice, before he could stop the urge that welled up inside him, Matt stood up. His body acted on instinct, his chair scraping with a harsh sound against the floor at the abrupt movement of his body.

The loud sound cut through the silence like a knife, causing the guests to turn to his figure in shock, eyes wide in horror. The priest raised his eyebrows in surprise, his words frozen on his lips as he watched the scene unfold before his eyes.

Victor, Y/N's fiancé, looked at Matt with flaming hatred in his eyes, a completely different expression than the one he displayed moments before the ceremony. He knew who Matt was, and he knew Matt would mean trouble for him.

But Matt ignored all of this. At that moment, all that mattered was Y/N. His blue eyes brimming with fear and love looked intensely into Y/N's shocked ones, who seemed frozen in place.

"I-I..." Y/N began, clearing her throat and turning to face the sea of ​​guests. "I need a moment."

And then, without waiting for a response or further intervention, Y/N got down from the altar and turned around, starting to run towards the back of the church. Her footsteps echoed in the silence with the click of her high heels against the floor, each beat of her heart matching the frantic pace of her run.

"Matt!" Nick called through gritted teeth, quickly glancing at the people around him as he raised his right hand, holding Matt's wrist tightly. "Sit down, now."

Matt barely had time to process what was happening before his instincts took over again, pulling his wrist from Nick's grip quickly. He ignored the confused murmurs of the guests accompanying him as he ran after Y/N.

He had to reach her, had to find a way to explain himself, to convince her to listen. He couldn't let her go without a fight, not after everything he had risked.

Matt's feet pounded the church floor as he ran, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He barely noticed Victor's screams echoing behind him, barely noticed the dirty looks that glared at his back as he chased the only love he'd ever had. All that mattered was reaching Y/N, holding her hand, and never letting it go again.

Matt pushed open the back doors of the church hard, his mind spinning in a whirlwind as he prepared to face whatever was on the other side.

He was expecting the worst - a furious face, eyes full of rage, cutting words thrown his way. But what he found was the complete opposite of that.

Y/N's figure was there, just a few feet away. She held her heels in one of her hands, her veil was lying on the floor next to her bare feet, and her beautiful dress was rumpled, but there was a huge smile on her face, and her eyes showed an intense relief.

Matt frowned in confusion, his own mind in turmoil as he tried to process what was happening. The boy expected her to confront him, to blame him for interrupting her perfect day, for destroying her dreams. But not that.

Before he could do anything, Y/N dropped her heels onto the delicate veil before running towards him, her steps quick and purposeful. She stopped before Matt, her eyes shining with an intensity that left him speechless.

Without hesitation, the girl raised her hands towards his face, cupping his red, hot cheeks, her fingers touching his skin with a tenderness that made him shiver. And then, so suddenly, she pulled him towards her, her lips meeting his in a deep, desperate kiss.

Matt felt the world disappear around him as he gave himself over to the gesture, all his questions slipping from his mind, his hands finding their place around Y/N's waist almost automatically, as if it was marked into his soul.

He could feel the warmth of her body against his, the soft touch of her lips against his own, and Matt had never, until that moment, truly understood how much he missed that.

Matt's lips gently parted from Y/N's seconds later, his eyes remained fixed on her face, as if trying to decipher a complex riddle. He felt the euphoria of the moment still pulsing through his veins, but a sense of confusion was still mixed with the intensity of it all.

"I... I don't understand." The boy murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words to express the whirlwind of thoughts that assaulted him.

Y/N shook her head, a soft smile still playing on his lips. She pulled away slightly, maintaining eye contact with Matt.

"I know this is all very confusing." She began, her voice soft and comforting. "But I'm so happy, Matt. So happy and relieved that you're here."

Matt's confusion deepened even further as he took in her words. He couldn't understand how she could be so serene and happy after everything that happened and what he did with her special date.

The boy felt a weight on his shoulders and an immense desire to look behind his shoulders towards the door, feeling as if someone would open it at any moment and expose them to the public.

"When I sent the invitation." Y/N continued. "I felt scared. Scared that you wouldn't show up, that you would choose not to be here. But deep down, I knew you would come. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

Her words hit the brunette like a wave of comforting heat. He watched her intensely, his racing heart overflowing with love as goosebumps ran through his whole body.

"Don't get me wrong, Victor is an amazing guy, but... Matt, he's not you. He never was. No one will ever be you." She unbuttoned her lace sleeves before rolling them up, ripping off the flower that was attached to the fake belt at her waist and throwing it over her heels.

She really was something.

"Y/N-"

"Run away with me?

Y/N's suggestion left Matt speechless. His body remained static as his eyes stared at her, his orbs filled with shock and disbelief. He never imagined that she could suggest something so radical.

"Matt, please, we have to go. Run away with me."

A smirk slowly grew onto Matt's face before he took her right hand in his, pulling her close tightly and picking her up in one quick movement, his right arm supporting her back and his hand gripping her waist tightly, while his left arm held her legs beneath her knees, pressing her against his body.

A squeal escaped Y/N's throat, who wrapped her arms around his neck and placed her hands on the back of his head tightly, hiding her face in the crook of his shoulder, a loud laughter passing through her lips.

"You're unbelievable, pretty girl... Come on, let's go."

So glad you were around when they said: Speak Now.

taglist:

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(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[freakinflipflop]

I’m so enamored with Troy and Blink’s friendship bc like. These are two people who have not experienced actual friendship for a long time. And both of them have built up defense mechanisms to deal with that loneliness: Blink does everything asked of him to be helpful and wanted and needed, and Troy puts on a facade of a strong popular sportsguy to appear tough and admirable. But these traits are also what drive people away from them. No one ever truly gets close to Blink bc he’s deferential to everyone’s wants, and it leads to Blink building up resentment when he continues doing good things and gets nothing out of it. Troy’s performance of popularity really just makes him an asshole, and he’s unable to be genuine and more likely to do stupid things that hurt people

And so over the course of Wonderlust both of them have been drifting closer to friendship through plot and shenanigans, and then pushing each other away through the same flaws that they developed to deal with loneliness. Troy puffs himself up, Blink deprioritizes himself; Troy takes advantage of Blink, Blink hides resentment for Troy that bubbles up at unhelpful times. Episode 15 felt like a crazy turning point bc they’re 1. Directly recognizing their own flaws, 2. Making a commitment to working on them, and 3. Agreeing to help each other with them. And like!! Isn’t that insane!! We met not even a week ago, have been through and put each other through hell, and now I see what holds you back and I will stick with you as we both grow to become people that others might also want to be around!!

Anyways this is why I think Troy and Blink as besties is the best possible outcome and I hope they continue on this trajectory of not making each other worse and in fact reversing course on that process

[daportalpractitioner]

mommy's moon sign: a thread ☾ part one — aries thru virgo

in a previous post, i mentioned that your mother's moon sign is very important in the sense that it tells us about the energy that was housing us during our prenatal development when we are baking in our mother's womb. during prenatal development, we are able to download our mother's experiences during pregnancy, emotions, attitudes, behaviors, and karmic patterns into our own DNA. the cosmic energy of her womb space tells us about patterns + themes that potentially lie dormant within our bodies with the desire to be either expressed or karmically released + healed for our highest good.

aries moon: your mother may have dealt with feeling misunderstood from a very early age due to her karmic responsibility to be a pioneer in this lifetime. even if she grew up close with her family, a part of her may have felt like she didn't fit in with the expectations that her parents had for her. the pain that aries moon mom carries in her womb stems from feeling like she has to do everything by herself + could also have had a pattern of attracting partners that she didn't feel supported by (classic single mom placement). a karmic lesson for aries moon mom to learn is to fully trust her feminine nature instead of constantly operating in her masculine so that she can attract the support that she has always desired since childhood. if you're a child of an aries moon mom, you could also have a pattern of experiencing loneliness + finding it difficult to cultivate supportive spaces because you witnessed your mom be so independent even in times where she didn't want to be. it's also not uncommon for children of aries moon mothers to exhibit or pass down disorganized attachment behaviors to their children. encourage each other to let other people help + support you. encourage each other to welcome vulnerability into the connection + value the act of processing/healthily releasing your emotions, especially rage.

taurus moon: mothers with an exalted moon usually do a great job at making their children feel safe, nurtured, and provided for on a physical + emotional level. when pregnant with you, your mother could have really valued her pregnancy + put lots of energy into preparing for your arrival. she could be very sensitive to your needs without even considering her own. from an early age, taurus moon mom had to learn to rely on herself to get things done first + foremost especially if she came from poverty or an unstable household. the self-esteem of your mother during pregnancy is crucial to your karmic imprint as you easily embed the way she feels about herself into your DNA + eventually grow to exhibit the same self-esteem patterns. it's important for the taurus moon mom to feel safe using her voice + exercising boundaries, especially when it comes to herself and what SHE needs. encourage each other to practice self-care + self-preservation. take yourselves out on nice mother/child dates. the key for taurus moon mom is to learn how to stop operating in survival mode, to welcome rest into her lifestyle + to not let motherhood become an experience that depletes her.

gemini moon: your mama may have dealt with a lot of movement (physical or mental) while pregnant with you, jumping from one place to another. the energy of a gemini moon's womb breeds natural chaos. focusing on tasks may have been a challenge for your mother, which tends to manifest into self-neglect due to being so preoccupied with the matters of the world. even if you haven't been diagnosed with ADD/ADHD or some form of neurodivergence, the expression of this mental energy can definitely be dormant in your DNA due your mother absorbing information to a hypersensitive degree during pregnancy. intentionality is key to foster a secure + safe relationship with a gemini moon mother as there is this tendency to develop preoccupied attachment patterns. make sure that you are really listening to each other instead of allowing words to go in one ear + out the other. communication goes a long way in cultivating a healthier relationship to mama. encourage each other to prioritize mental health + doing activities that feel nourishing to the brain (reading, writing, immersing selves in nature, art, etc). also, make sure that you're holding your gemini moon mother to her word if she is notorious for switching up.

cancer moon: your mother's pregnancy was undeniably significant to her on a karmically spiritual level. your ancestors, especially maternal, really do not play about you two as they protected your mother heavily when she carried you. giving birth to you was no mistake as your soul chose to expand her bloodline. cancer moon mothers may have went through their own personal issues with their mother (your grandma) that they hold resentment from in their wombs. these tensions are meant to be transmuted into breakthroughs for generational healing + curse breaking. her maternal instincts are her superpower, being able to guide you in any situation you need help in. even if you're not close with your cancer moon mom, her love does remain unconditional as she recognizes that you are a part of her + she is a part of you. even though mothering comes natural to the cancer moon mom, she easily could have felt the weight of motherhood + remained passive about how much of a responsibility it was, carrying all that load by herself. whether your mother was able to breastfeed you or not says a lot about the karmic disposition between you + your mama.

leo moon: your leo moon mother may have been super excited to be a mother yet also dealing with adjusting to the level of maturity required to be a mom. becoming a mother was probably not on her bingo card the year that you were conceived so the necessary growth that needed to take place was challenging + unexpected. motherhood may have triggered a sense of fear in your mother during her pregnancy with you because she didn't want to part with her youth just yet (classic teenage mom placement). regardless of her situation, she takes pride in being a mother + is very protective over her cub(s). she's the type of mother you can call to cuss out the school when there's an issue. i'd encourage you to keep her inner child alive + well by spending quality time doing things that make you both happy. leo moon mamas usually pass down at least one of their passions to their children, especially if they engaged with that passion during pregnancy. they love spending time with their children more than anything so don't be afraid to do something wild + fun that can free your mother's inner child. when your mom is connected to her inner child, it also connects her deeper to motherhood for she is able to relate to the experience of a child more + is able to distribute compassion to her child(ren) when needed.

virgo moon: it's not uncommon for virgo moon mothers to have experienced lots of angst when pregnant with you, especially if this was their first pregnancy. what isn't expressed + released in a healthy way stays trapped in the mind of the virgo moon mom, manifesting into anxiety. if anxiety was a theme for your mother while she was pregnant with you + it remained undealt with, then there's a big possibility that anxiety is something you've experienced on a chronic level as well. virgo moon mothers also deal with overcoming perfectionism — wanting to the perfect mother + projecting perfectionism onto her child(ren), so if you mother was hard on you growing up, that is why. if you are challenged by the illusions of not being good enough, this is probably something you've also picked up on from your mom during your time in her womb. but because of their will + dedication to be the best, virgo moon moms make very good caretakers as they are empathically connected to the needs of their children + are not satisfied until they can tell that their children are satisfied. even when virgo moon moms can be tough on their kids, remember that they are their own toughest critic + they really do mean well. i'd recommend being of service to your mother in any way that can lighten the load on her as virgo moon mothers tend to have a lot of their to-do lists. words of affirmation also goes a long way in gifting them peace of mind, especially from their children as they tend to be overthinkers when it comes to motherhood.

[bloomzone]

2025 : #16 journal journal journal : all u need guide

By : a journaling addict girlie

Journaling is a tool for self-discovery mindfulness and creativity too But while many of us start with enthusiasm turning journaling into a consistent habit can feel like a battle or smthng cuz life gets busy u lose motivation and before you know it your journal is gathering dust

so !

This guide will help you build a sustainable journaling practice. Whether you’re a beginner or someone looking to rekindle the habit these practical tips will make journaling an effortless part of your daily routine.

how I found out abt journaling(storytime box)

[I used to feel like my world was tiny, trapped in a cycle of bullying and loneliness and a loot of stuff My social zone was practically nonexistent I had 2 friends but I didn't trusted them enough and the people around me just made things harder so I had a trust issue and I was constantly overthinking eveeeeerything. My mind was a mess, and I had no way to let it out (I can't tell my parents back then abt my problems) . One day, I came across a video about journaling. I saw someone pouring out their thoughts into a notebook (it was bestmess ig on YouTube ) and something clicked for me. Maybe this could be my way to escape all the noise in my head ??? So, I grabbed an old notebook and started writing.At first, it felt awkward—just random, messy thoughts. But as I kept going, I realized it helped. Writing became my safe space. I could say whatever I wanted, no judgment. It wasn’t just about venting; it helped me understand myself, organize my thoughts, and let go of some of the pain from the isolation.Over time, journaling turned into something much deeper. It became a way to reflect, dream, and grow. It taught me how to be kind to myself when no one else was, and helped me find clarity in the chaos. Journaling saved me it turned my mess into peace one page at a time then when the years roll I created a routine for it !]

Why Journaling Matters

☆ Journaling offers countless benefits:

-Reducing stress

-Boosting creativity

-Deepening self-awareness

☆ Yet, staying consistent can be a challenge. The key lies in making journaling enjoyable and rewarding. Here's how you can do just that.

The Science of Habit Formation

To build any habit, including journaling, you need three elements:

1. Cue: A trigger that reminds you to journal.

2. Routine: The act of journaling itself.

3. Reward: The positive feeling or benefit you experience afterward.

The secret is to keep the process simple and satisfying too

Steps to Turn Journaling into a Daily Habit

1. Start Small

Begin with just a sentence or two for example:

“Today, I felt grateful for…”

“The best part of my day was…”

—Starting small makes it less overwhelming and easier to stick with.

2. Anchor It to an Existing Habit

—Pair journaling with something you already do, like drinking coffee or winding down before bed. This "habit stacking" technique helps u remember to journal.

3. Set a Timer

Worried about time? Commit to just 5 minutes. Knowing there’s a limit makes starting feel less daunting.

4. Use Prompts

Struggling with what to write? Use prompts like:

“What made me smile today?”

“What’s a challenge I faced, and how did I handle it?”

—Prompts give your thoughts direction and beat blank-page syndrome. There's million of prompts idea on Pinterest u need just to take action

5. Celebrate Your Progress

Track your streaks or mark your journaling days on a calendar. Seeing your consistency builds motivation.

6. Create a Cozy Space ( not important )

Set up a comfortable spot for journaling—a comfy chair, your favorite pen, or soothing music. A cozy environment turns journaling into a ritual you look forward to.

7. Experiment with Formats

If traditional journaling feels stale, try something new:

☆ Bullet points

☆ Sketches

☆ Gratitude lists

☆ Digital journaling apps

Creative Ways to Journal

☆ Gratitude Journaling: Write down 3 things you’re grateful for each day.

☆ Habit Tracking: Combine journaling with habit tracking to monitor small goals.

☆ Morning Pages: Inspired by Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, write 3 pages of free-flowing thoughts first thing in the morning.

☆ Reflection Logs: Reflect weekly or monthly on what went well, what you learned, and what you’d like to improve.

Overcoming Common Obstacles

1. “I Don’t Have Time.”

Journaling doesn’t need to take hours. Even a single sentence is progress.

2. “I Don’t Know What to Write.”

Start with prompts or simply answer: “What’s on my mind right now?”

3. “I Keep Forgetting.”

Set phone reminders or pair journaling with a daily habit.

4. “It Doesn’t Feel Useful.”

Journaling isn’t about perfection it’s a tool for you Over time you’ll notice its positive effects.

Journaling as a Tool for Self-Growth

— Journaling isn’t just about recording events or thoughts—it’s also a way to grow mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually. Here’s how you can take your journaling practice to the next level:

1. Use Journaling for Goal Setting

Journaling can help you identify and track your goals. Write down your short- and long-term objectives, and use your journal to reflect on progress, challenges, and adjustments.

Example:

☆ Weekly Goals: Write down 3 specific goals every Monday and reflect on them at the end of the week.

☆ Vision Journaling: Imagine your ideal future and describe it in vivid detail.

2. Practice Emotional Awareness

☆ Journaling is a powerful way to process emotions. Try these techniques:

☆ Emotion Check-Ins: At the end of the day, write about how you felt and why.

☆ Reframing Challenges: If something negative happened, write about it from a different perspective.

3. Develop Gratitude and Mindfulness

☆ Use your journal to cultivate mindfulness by focusing on the present moment:

☆ Mindful Observations: Write about your surroundings, the weather, or how your body feels.

☆ Gratitude Expansion: Instead of listing things you’re grateful for, write a short paragraph about why each one matters.

4. Uncover Patterns and Insights

Over time, your journal becomes a mirror of your habits, thoughts, and emotions. Regularly revisit old entries to:

- Identify recurring themes.

- Discover how you’ve grown or changed.

- Spot areas where you might need more balance or self-care.

FAQs

Q: How long does it take to build a journaling habit?

A: Experts say it takes 21–66 days. Consistency is key, even if it’s just a few minutes daily.

Q: Should I write by hand or use a digital tool?

A: Both work! Handwriting feels personal, while digital tools offer organization. ( In my opinion handwriting one are better !)

Q: What if my journaling feels repetitive?

A: Life has routines, and so will your journal. Use prompts or try new styles to keep it fresh.

Q: Can I journal if I’m not a good writer?

A: Absolutely! Journaling is about self-expression, not perfect prose. Bullet points or doodles work too.

Journaling is a gift you give yourself—a way to check in, reflect, and grow. Whether you’re jotting down a single sentence or filling pages, the act of journaling is what matters most.

@bloomzone 📇

[cherryflavoured7777]

Do you miss me, dear? [h.c]

Summary: Stuck at a graduation party, surrounded by memories of your past relationship and your own loneliness, your night takes an unexpected turn when you find yourself dialing the number of the one person you vowed you wouldn't contact.

Pairing: College!Hazel x College!Fem!Reader 

Contains: smut 18+ only, explicit language, drinking, smoking, mutual pining, slightly toxic reader I think, fingering (r! receiving), oral(r! receiving), break-up/make-up sex, idiots in love, this one gets straight-up MUSHY I’m not gonna lie

Word count: 4.1k

a/n: I just need to say I am deeply obsessed with all of you who interacted with either of my last two fics. reading your comments/ replies seriously makes me SO happy you have no idea. Got me giggling and shit fr! I don’t know why my writing always ends up including partying and drinking but maybe it’s because I just graduated college and am having an existential post-grad crisis. Anyway 💀I hope you enjoy and thank you again for reading!!!

Also, this is inspired by this song by one of my favourite bands:  

“I don’t know what I’m still doing here.” You say out loud to yourself, standing up from the musty green couch you were sitting on. An empty beer bottle falls from the cushion onto the ground, shattering into pieces beside your foot. 

This party sucked. Pushing your way through the crowded, stuffy kitchen, you couldn't shake off the feeling of suffocation. Tipsy couples entangled in each other's arms seemed to be everywhere, a painful reminder of what you once had and lost. The memories of being that annoying person in love at a party flooded back, amplifying the ache of your loneliness.

The thumping music in your ears only made your head pound harder. Desperate for a breath of fresh air, you stumbled toward the door, ignoring the intoxicated laughter and clinking glasses that filled the air. As you stepped outside, the cool night breeze hit your face, offering a momentary rescue from the overwhelming atmosphere inside.

The darkness of the night sky above seemed to swallow you whole, but it felt strangely comforting. Leaning against the porch railing, you closed your eyes, trying to regain your composure. In the silence outside, you could hear distant laughter and the faint sound of music, muffled by the walls of the house.

You settled into a seat around a glass table, next to a guy you recognized from one of your classes. You exchanged a quick nod of acknowledgment before reaching into your purse, retrieving a box of cigarettes. Smoking was not a regular habit for you, but you reserved it for moments like these—after a few drinks and a growing sense of irritation. 

You lit the end of the cigarette, watching it crackle, and took a long drag. As you exhaled the smoke, you tilted your head back, noticing the full moon glowing brightly above.

"Full moon tonight," the boy beside you remarked, his voice carrying a note of intrigue. "They say some crazy shit can happen on full moons."

You chuckled bitterly. "Yeah, well, that could explain why I'm stuck at this party right now."

He leaned back, studying you intently. 

“I wish I could be an astronaut and get the fuck out of here.” You mused, gaze fixed on the bright glow of the moon. "I only came to this party because she said she would be here." Another drag of the cigarette punctuated your words.

"Who's she?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"My ex," you replied, trying to seem nonchalant. His gaze was fixed on you, "Hazel."

-

Until today, you hadn't spoken to Hazel in over three months, choosing to cut off all contact in an attempt to speed up the process of moving on. You're both surprised that you managed to endure the silence for so long, and disappointed that she hasn't made any effort to reach out, not even once. 

That was until about six hours ago when you were sitting at a coffee shop on campus with your roommate, Brittany, studying for your upcoming statistics exam. 

"Don't look now, but Hazel just walked in," she whispers, her tone hushed, and her eyes widening. "And she's with another girl."

Your heart plummeted into your stomach. You were seated with your back to the door, and you watched as they both approached the corner, heading in your direction.

"Brittany!" the blonde girl accompanying Hazel exclaims, leaving the three of you momentarily stunned.

Hazel follows a few steps behind, clearly taken aback by the encounter. She looked annoyingly hot, her disheveled brown hair, baggy white t-shirt and black jeans, adorned with her signature silver chains and rings. It takes all your strength not to stare. 

"Hey, Amanda," Brittany replied, forcing a polite smile. "Hazel."

Hazel offers a nod in greeting to Brittany and then to you. You feel like a middle-schooler again, awkward and unsure of how to act around your crush.

"Did you manage to finish that paper for Professor Sharpe's class?" the girl asked. 

As Brittany carries on the conversation with Amanda, you can feel Hazel's gaze on you, catching her eyes occasionally. 

You never anticipated the aftermath of your breakup with Hazel to be this awkward. All those nights spent tangled up together, where you both believed you could read each other's minds, now reduced to this.

"So, Hazel, are you going to Emma’s graduation party tonight? All of us are going," Brittany chimed in, attempting to steer the conversation away from the obvious tension.

Hazel smiled sheepishly, replying, "Yeah, I’m going."

"Cool," Brittany replied, her smile masking the underlying awkwardness in the air.

A beat of uncomfortable silence hung between you all.

"Will you be there?" Hazel asked breaking the silence, turning toward you, her voice almost hesitant.

"Yeah, I'll be there," you said, mustering a small smile. "Wouldn’t want to miss it."

Hazel smiled, "Cool," she said, her voice soft, "I'll see you there then."

Just as the atmosphere began to ease, Amanda abruptly intervened, her grip firm on Hazel's hand. "Hazel, let’s go, I forgot something in my car," Amanda said, her tone strangely possessive, and she dragged Hazel away before you could utter another word.

-

This breadcrumb of information has led you here. You spent the first fifteen minutes at the party searching for her like a lost puppy. When you couldn't find her, you contemplated leaving but opted to drown your thoughts with tequila shots instead. Now, you're clinging to any scrap of attention you can find, desperately trying to purge her from your mind.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the male voice beside you. "D’you have a light?" he asked, his cigarette aimed in your direction. You stare at him for a moment, deadpan, still frozen in your thoughts from the events that unfolded earlier today. 

"Fuck it," you muttered under your breath, reaching for your phone. You’re calling her.

-

“You’re soaked,” Hazel says as you climb into the front seat of her car, her tone a mix of concern and annoyance. “Seriously, you’re getting mud all over the floor of my car.” While you were waiting for Hazel to pick you up from the party, It started raining, you thought enduring it outside would be better than being stuffed in that small house full of people you didn't even really know. 

“You lied.” You retort back. 

“What?”

“You said you were coming to the party.” 

“Yeah well, my plans changed. Put your seatbelt on.” As she shifted the car into reverse, she placed her hand on your seat to steady herself. With a quick glance over your shoulder, she backed out of the driveway in one brisk movement.

You attempted to keep your composure, trying not to make it entirely obvious that you were basically drooling over how hot she looked doing that.  

“I can tell that there’s someone else,” You say after a few moments of silence, trying to disguise your jealousy with innocent curiosity. “Come on, tell me,” You finally click your seatbelt into place. “I can take it well.” 

"Oh, I know you can," she replied, shooting you a smug look, trying to divert this conversation from getting too deep right now.

“Hazel.” You groan at her dumb attempt at an innuendo, throwing your head backward and hitting the headrest. “Just be honest. Is it the girl from the coffee shop earlier? Or what about the girl Isabel saw you with last week at the library? Or both? Who am I kidding, there’s probably even more than that.”

“Do you have like, personal spies assigned to watch over me?”

You don’t respond right away, deciding to avoid her questions like she’s avoiding yours. You crank the window open and throw your head out. The spring wind cool on your face. 

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes.”

She’s quiet for a moment. 

Look, I know I wasn't where I said I'd be, but I was busy, doing stuff," she replied defensively.

"Yeah," you scoffed, your words tinged with a hint of anger. "I'm sure you were."

You sit the next few minutes in silence, wondering if this whole thing was a bad idea. You couldn't pinpoint why you had called her in the first place. The intensity of seeing her earlier mixed with the disappointment of the lackluster party had left you missing her, even though you weren't entirely sure why.

"So, where am I taking you?" Hazel asked, her gaze shifting from the road to you. Strands of her brown hair were tousled by the wind.

Your buzz had faded, and with it, your initial courage waned. Swallowing hard, you hesitated before speaking. "Can I sleep at yours? Not— not like that," you hurriedly clarified, feeling a sudden need to explain. "It's just that Brittany has her new boyfriend over, and I could go back there, but I don’t really want to."

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” 

After a moment, Hazel hesitantly rested her hand on your thigh, both of you aware of the significance of the touch, even if neither acknowledged it. Her fingers gave a gentle squeeze, the subtle pressure made your tummy flip. Beneath the surface, an unspoken understanding lingered, hinting that this night might entail more than just a ride home.

-

Hazel's apartment is full of brown moving boxes, an aching reminder of why you broke up in the first place. 

“Wow, this place is pretty much all packed up.” You say, slowly walking through the place, eventually landing at the doorway into her bedroom. 

She nods in response, her face reflecting a mixture of anticipation and sadness, settling down at the end of her bed.

"So, when do you leave?" The question weighed heavily on your heart as you voiced it. You wished you didn't have to ask these questions, yearning for a time when you were part of her plans, not just a spectator.

“Two weeks. My Aunt is gonna meet me at JFK and help me move into my new place.”

You sighed, feeling brave, "I wish I had the date circled on my calendar, helping you move, or going with you." You say the last part quiet, mostly to yourself.

The conversation lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

You walked over to her dresser, where a mirror was propped up, decorated with photos of you two from a photobooth, still clinging to the glass. Your heart swelled with mixed emotions.

Hazel says your name, breaking you from your trance. 

“Come here,” she says. 

You walk over slowly, standing between her legs. Your hands rest on her shoulders and you take a deep breath.

With both of your gazes locked, her hands came up behind your thighs, gently grabbing them and pulling them on either side of her one by one so you’re straddling her. Her hand comes up to brush a piece of hair from your face. 

“You’re so beautiful, baby” Her voice is barely a whisper as she stares up at you, her eyes practically shimmering with your reflection, Her hands settle on your waist, the warmth of her touch sending a pang of guilt through you. This breakup was unlike any you'd experienced before, and the raw emotions lingered, making you hesitate for a moment.

Your hands move up to cradle her face, your thumb dragging on her bottom lip. Still maintaining intense eye contact, you slowly slip your finger into her mouth, watching her with a mix of awe and longing.

The silence as you stare at each other is anything but awkward. It was charged with the weight of shared mourning, each of you navigating the complexity of a relationship's end.

You removed your finger, and in response, she grabbed your head gently, guiding it down towards her face, her eyes locked onto yours. Your lips barely grazed each other, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear your rapid heartbeat. Hazel kissed you slowly at first, the touch of her lips sending a rush through your entire body. It quickly escalated, and there was a certain neediness to the way you both kissed, scared it could be the last time.

"Missed you," She whispered against your lips. Your mouths slid together, tongues pressing and exploring. The intensity of the kiss speaks volumes, like you were making up for lost time. Her lips found their way to your neck, leaving a trail of hot, lingering kisses, setting your body on fire. 

“Fuck, Hazel.” It was almost embarrassing how quickly you melted beneath her touch. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” You say, your voice strained, a soft moan escaping your lips. You very much wanted to be doing this, you just thought you should at least try to seem like you had stronger breakup morals than you did. Her hands found the curve of your ass, and you instinctively started to rock your hips slowly back and forth, seeking some much-needed friction. 

"Do you want me to stop? Say the word, and I'll stop, pretty girl," she murmured against your neck, her open-mouthed kisses and gentle suction on your pulse point sending shivers down your spine. You didn't reply with words, but your fingers found her hair, silently urging her to continue. "I need an answer, babygirl," 

"Don't stop," you breathed, your voice catching in your throat. "Please, don't stop." Your hips still lazily moving on her. Her mouth was back on yours, deepening the kiss as she guided you both down, her hands roaming over the back of your legs and your ass. She tugged at the hem of your shirt, helping you out of it and leaving you in your black lace bra.  

"So fucking perfect. Missed you so fucking much," she confessed, 

"I missed you too, Haze, every day," you whined, 

"You ever think about me? she asked, breathless. "About this?" she continued 

You nodded, your breath hitching as you confessed, "All the time. Couldn't stop thinking about you, your hands, your mouth."

Her eyes darken as you sit up and effortlessly unhook your bra, leaning back down, your lips finding their way to her collarbone, marking a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin. Your hands slowly creep their way up under her shirt, seeking permission. She nods, a silent affirmation, and you gently peel her shirt off over her head. Your stomach flips as you feel her arms effortlessly turn both of you over, trading places, landing on your back as she hovers over you. Her silver chain dangling above your face. It felt like your first time all over again, you felt a sense of shyness creeping over you under her gaze. Anticipation and excitement blooming in your chest.

“Fuck, look at you.” She says. The way she’s studying you makes you feel like the most beautiful thing to ever exist, as if every curve of your body is a masterpiece deserving of praise. Unable to contain your impatience, you pull her head down to meet your lips, your hips instinctively bucking up, frustration showing in the heated moment. Her fingers start to trail downwards under your skirt, meeting your clothed cunt. “You want me to fuck you? Hm?” She whispers in your ear, “Is that what you want baby?” She taunts, her fingers slowly grazing over your underwear. 

You nod vigorously, your enthusiasm evident. She responds by sucking on your neck again, sending shivers down your spine, your face flushed with heat. Your hands instinctively tug at her hair.

“Yes, Haze, please, fuck.” You arch your neck, pressing it firmly into the softness of the pillow beneath, a small gasp escaping your lips as you surrender to the moment. “Want your fingers inside of me.”

She makes a noise of desperation, her warm breath fanning over your face. “Gonna make you feel so good baby” She moves your underwear to the side, running her fingers through your slick folds. You gasp and she groans. “Wanna make it up to you.”

She tugs at the waistband of your skirt. You lift your hips as she guides it down along with your underwear. Hazel curses under her breath, “You’re so wet, it’s so fucking hot.” She plants kisses all over your chest, each one feeling like it could set you on fire. 

She slowly fucks you with her middle finger, the touch leaving you reeling. She adds her ring finger, her free hand snaking under your neck. Her fingers gently grab the side of your face while she fucks you, slightly tugging and grazing them against your parted lips. It's an intimate gesture, conveying both tenderness and desire.

Your hips buck up to meet her fingers. “Holy fuck” you groan as she pumps them faster into you. “Like that,” your voice is completely shot. Your entire body fizzed from the contact. You gently bite down on her fingers near your mouth while she places kisses all over your cheeks and your lips. Your head spun with thoughts of her - her mouth, her hair, her scent, Hazel was everywhere, all-encompassing. 

“Fuck, you’re so good” She half slurs, her voice wrecked, pupils blown and her lips parted. “So good for me.” She whispers, keeping her pace, dragging her digits through the wetness at your core.

Her mouth makes its way down your body, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses until she’s on her stomach between your thighs. Pumping faster, her lips suck at your clit. Her other hand presses down on your abdomen, holding you in place. You cup your aching tits, feeling them move with every motion she makes.

“Hazel,” you whine, “Haze, I-” Her fingers pick up the pace, curling inside of you. You tread your fingers through her hair, tugging slightly, the coil in your tummy growing tighter and tighter. 

“I know, honey, I know,” She says in response to your moans. “You sound so pretty baby, missed those sounds so much.” She keeps babbling, telling you how good you are and how pretty you look for her. 

“Fuck, don’t stop” you moan as she continues fucking you with her mouth and fingers, her pace alternating between teasing and fast, pushing you toward the edge. The contrast in her movements intensifies the pleasure, almost giving you want you want but flaking at the last moment, it’s torture.

“Shit, you’re almost there sweetheart” Hazel swears under her breath, voice laced with her own arousal. Her words drive you closer to the edge. You swear you can see stars as the overwhelming feeling shocks through your body. Your heart rate picks up immensley, pounding in your chest.

“Gonna come for me baby, yeah?” “Want you to come all over these fingers.” 

And you did. Your body clenches around her fingers, trembling, moans and curses spilling from your lips. Your eyes form with tears from the overstimulation. Her face landed in the crook of your neck, planting sloppy kisses and whispering reassurances as she guides you through the climax.

“Good girl, that’s it, honey. That’s it,” she murmurs.

Her fingers still slowly pumping in and out of you, riding out your high.

“Holy shit," you say once you've caught your breath. "Haze, c'mere." She lifts her head back up and you yank her face down to yours, tasting yourself on her lips as she lets out a soft moan. When you eventually pull away, both breathless, you lock eyes before bursting into disbelieving laughter.

“I can’t believe that just happened.” You whisper.

"I can," she says smugly. You playfully shove her before she collapses beside you. Both of you lie face to face, studying each other's features, committing them to memory, afraid you might forget what they look like. Her hand rests on your waist, mindlessly grazing up and down.

"What's the real reason you didn't come to the party? You ask. Were you with someone else?" Hazel shakes her head.

She pauses before speaking, "I thought if there was any chance of you being there, that I was gonna walk in and maybe see you with someone else. There was no way I could've handled that. I've been distracting myself with other girls, yeah, but..." Her voice trails off. "You have no idea how in love with you I still am." Her voice cracking with emotion. You can see a tear forming in Hazel’s eye, glimmering in the low light of the room.

“Hazel..” Your own voice slightly breaking. You reach out and drag your thumb delicately against her cheek, wiping the stray tear away. Your heart is breaking with a mixture of guilt and longing for the girl lying beside you.

“I still play pretend, in my head.” She whispers.

You smile, your hand resting on her neck, giving it a gentle squeeze, a signal of encouragement for her to keep going. 

“I picture us, living together in our apartment in the city.” 

Hazel was moving to New York City to work for her aunt after graduation. The reason you broke up, neither of you wanting to do long distance.

“Waking up next to you everyday, cooking you breakfast, fucking you on the countertop for hours” You both laugh at that. “Ever since I met you, I’ve always pictured you just being there. And these past few months…” 

“Absolute hell.” You finish for her. 

“Absolute hell.” She agrees. 

You take her hand and squeeze it, a silent form of reassurance. 

She shifts slightly and hovers over you again, brushing your damp hair off your forehead with her hand, and scans your face. “I don’t want this to end” she whispers. 

You wish you could capture this moment, tuck it away, and replay it whenever you wanted. You’ve been waiting for her to say these exact words for the past three months, you just never thought it would happen. The reason for your break-up still heavily taunts the back of your mind. 

“I love you” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. Taking her face in your hand and capturing her in another kiss. She kisses you sweetly and desperately.

You pull away, gently coaxing her back towards you, and cuddle her into your chest, assuming the role of the big spoon.

She nestles into your arms, finding comfort in the warmth of your body. With a soft sigh, she murmurs, "I wish we had more time.”

You tighten your hold around her, "We'll figure something out, I promise," you whisper, though you aren’t even sure of the reality of your own words. You choose to let go of the uncertainties, preferring to revel in the present moment. She looks back at you, and you kiss her forehead, a silent promise to cherish what you have, even if time feels fleeting.

“God damn full moon.” You mutter to yourself, remembering your earlier conversation at the party.

“What?” She asks.

“Nothing.” You say. “Don’t worry about it.” You kiss her shoulder, settling into the softness of the moment.

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

tagging @astroph1les @vster0769

[melancholy-of-nadia]

heart on the window #2 (m) | ksj

title: heart on the window (m) pairing: ksj x reader(f) rating/genre: m (18+) ; smut ; roommates au / streamer/cam boy au / office worker au, childhood rivals to awkward roommates to lovers? au summary: Your life takes a wild turn after discovering what you believe is Seokjin's risqué secret, only for the following nights to leave you doubting your own reality. Was it loneliness and a shattered heart that conjured this delusion? As you try to move on, leaving your assumptions behind, you and Seokjin grow closer—until a late-night slip-up unravels everything... literally. note: it took me almost a month to update i have been busy at work.; i've edited this but there still may be some grammatical errors so apologies in advanced. warnings: roommate!Seokjin being such a green flag, adult content live streaming (camwork), explicit solo masturbation (from jin and also reader POV), voyeurism, descriptive use of toys, dirty talk, reader's emotional turmoil, Seokjin being perceptive and teasing, confrontation, sexual frustration, sexual tension. mild language, some implied sexual fantasizing, jin POV in the last quarter of the chapter drop date: December 20th, 2024, 12:00pm pst word count: 9.6k chapter 1 | chapter 3 crossposted on ao3 here

–

That good sleep that you were anticipating?

Gone.

Were you able to get some sleep last night?

Absolutely not.

Every time you’d close your eyes, all you would see is THAT: Seokjin Kim, sitting in his chair, stroking his cock with slow, deliberate motions, his face caught somewhere between bliss and control while a virtual audience eagerly watched.

Oh god, what the fuck did you get yourself into? 

You can’t just continue living here like you didn’t see that.

Absolutely no way–

“Did you get a good sleep last night?”

The sound of Seokjin’s voice slices through the chaotic mind-fuck cluster of your thoughts, dragging you back to the present. You blink, startled, your mind scrambling for something—anything—to say.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was…nice,” you reply, though your tone is as flat as week-old opened grapefruit Spin Drift you’ve left out on the counter countless times in the past.

Seokjin chuckles, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, giving you a knowing look. “That doesn’t sound very convincing,” he remarks before turning back toward the kitchen. You watch him as he grabs a carton of eggs, a frying pan, and other utensils with easy confidence, as though nothing is out of the ordinary.

Meanwhile, your head is spinning.

Does he have any idea what you saw? No, of course not. How could he? You clutch your mug of coffee tighter, willing yourself to keep calm and act normal, even though “normal” feels like a foreign concept right now.

Seokjin cracks an egg against the side of the pan with one hand, a skill that feels unnecessarily showy, and tosses the shell in the trash without missing a beat. “So, what’s your plan for today?”

“My plan?” 

“Yeah, you know. Moving in, settling down. Unpacking those boxes.” He gestures with the spatula toward the pile of boxes you had left in the living room yesterday. “Or are you just going to live out of them for the next few months?”

You force out a weak laugh, trying to mask your unease. “I’ll get to them soon. Or well, eventually.”

Seokjin glances at you over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, you sure you’re okay? You seem… distracted.”

Distracted? That’s putting it lightly. You practically choked on your own thoughts all night, trying to process what you’d stumbled upon. Now here he is, looking every bit as composed and charming as ever, completely unaware of how he’s upended your mental state.

“Just a lot on my mind from the shit I’ve been going through,” you say vaguely, hoping he’ll just think about what you’ve previously told him and won’t press further.

“Fair enough,” he replies, flipping the eggs in the pan with a practiced flick of his wrist. “By the way, if you need anything for your room, feel free to let me know. I’ve got some spare furniture in storage if you need extra shelves or whatever.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, staring at your coffee as if it holds the answers to your predicament.

You spend the rest of breakfast in tense silence, with Seokjin humming softly to himself as he cooks. Every so often, you catch yourself stealing a glance at him—his broad shoulders, the black t-shirt that loosely fits his body, his easy movements, the way his hair falls messily over his forehead. And every time, your mind cruelly throws you back to that image from last night.

You barely touch your toast, and when Seokjin finally sets his plate in the sink and announces he’s heading out to work in the office since he has some meetings later this afternoon, you feel a wave of relief so strong it’s almost embarrassing.

As the front door clicks shut behind him, you slump against the counter, exhaling a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

What are you going to do? How are you supposed to face him every day without your mind going there?

If there’s anything that helps clear your mind, it’s organizing. The chaos of your thoughts seems to calm when you’re sorting, categorizing, and arranging. And thank god you have a lot of that to do right now with all the boxes cluttering your room and spilling into the living room.

Determined to regain some sense of control, you dive into it. First, the essentials—clothing, toiletries, and the work necessities you hope to use again someday. You find a rhythm: open, sort, fold, stack, repeat. The act becomes a form of meditation, letting you focus on the task rather than… other things.

After about two hours, just as you’re folding a stack of sweaters, your phone buzzes with an incoming FaceTime call. Your dear best friend Yunjin’s photo flashes across the screen.

You swipe to answer, her bright, cheerful face filling the screen instantly.

“Hey girl!!” she chirps, holding her phone up at an angle that shows a bustling street lined with shops and people.

“Hey, Yunjin!” you say, unable to hide your grin. “Haven’t seen your beautiful face in awhile. What are you up to?”

“I’m out shopping in Japantown,” she says, spinning her phone around to give you a quick view of colorful storefronts and an adorable bakery. “And I saw this cute Moomin plush keychain. It reminded me of you, so I’m gonna gift it you!”

A Gift?! 

Your eyes widen. “N-No! It’s fine!”

Yunjin’s smile doesn’t falter. “Oh, stop it. I want to. Plus, it’ll give me an excuse to go visit you.” Yunjin lives a couple of hours away from you, so you don’t get to see her as often as you used to during college.

Despite her kindness, you feel a pang of guilt. Being unemployed has left you hyperaware of money, and the idea of your friend spending her hard-earned cash on you—without expecting anything in return—feels unbearable. But that’s just how she is. That’s just…Yunny.

“Really, you don’t have to,” you say, even as a part of you knows arguing with her is pointless.

“Too late!” she sing-songs, flipping the camera around to show the tiny Moomin plush with its sweet little face and scarf. “Tell me this isn’t so you.”

It is. It absolutely is.

You sigh, shaking your head but unable to keep from smiling. “Okay, fine. But at least let me treat you to a coffee.”

“Deal,” Yunjin says with a wink before turning the camera back to her. “So, how’s it going with your new place? Settling in okay?”

Your mind flashes to Seokjin, to the events of last night, and you swallow hard. “Uh, yeah. It’s… nice. Just getting things sorted.”

Yunjin squints at the screen, her expression turning suspicious. “You sound weird. What’s going on?”

Should you tell her? Absolutely not. She’d think the whole situation was bizarre—and worse, she’d probably call you weird for sticking around to watch him do that. You quickly decide to change the topic.

“Yunny, is there really no way I can stay with you for a bit of time?” you groan, leaning against the pile of clothes you’d been folding.

Yunjin’s brow furrows. “Oh, why? You don’t like your new place?”

“It’s… fine,” you hedge, glancing toward your door as if Jin might somehow overhear. “I just… I don’t know. It’d be nice to have you around again like old times.”

The truth is, you don’t want to leave this city. It’s the only place where the kind of opportunities you’re looking for exist. And besides, you love it here—the energy, the atmosphere, the food scene. Nothing else in or out of state even comes close.

But if moving meant getting away from the strange situation you’ve landed yourself in, maybe you’d consider it.

“Uh, well, sadly, no,” Yunjin says with a slight pout. “I thought one of my housemates was moving out to live with her boyfriend, but it looks like that was all talk. She’s staying put for now. They probably wouldn’t be okay with temporary couch surfing either.”

That makes sense.

“Oh,” you reply, deflated. “Okay.”

“Hmm.” Yunjin narrows her eyes, clearly unconvinced, but thankfully, she doesn’t press further. “Well, I can’t wait to see your new place. We’ll do a housewarming soon, okay?”

“Yeah, definitely,” you say, nodding along, though the thought of hosting a gathering here makes your stomach twist. How exactly would you explain Seokjin’s... side hustle to anyone if they happened to find out?

“Alright, I’ve gotta go,” Yunjin says, the bustling noise behind her growing louder. “I’m supposed to get lunch with Hanni and Stephen. Love you!”

“Love you too,” you reply, waving at the screen before the call ends.

You set your phone down, a mix of warmth and guilt settling over you. It’s comforting to know Yunjin has your back, but it also serves as a painful reminder of how far you’ve fallen. No job, no stability, and now living with a guy who… well.

You shake your head, refusing to let yourself spiral. There’s too much to do, too many boxes to unpack. For now, you focus on the small wins—folding clothes, sorting books, reclaiming a sense of order.

One step at a time.

You throw yourself into unpacking and organizing, letting the steady rhythm of your tasks distract you from your swirling thoughts. The hours slip by as you arrange books on shelves, hang up clothes, and shuffle boxes around to make the room feel less like a storage unit and more like a home.

By the time the sun begins to dip lower in the sky, you’ve made solid progress. Your room is starting to look presentable—cozy, even. The hum of activity keeps your mind occupied, though every now and then, stray thoughts about last night sneak in.

The sound of the front door unlocking jolts you out of your reverie. A moment later, Seokjin walks in, dressed in business attire, his tie slightly loosened and his hair tousled in that effortlessly charming way that makes it clear why his stream fans are obsessed with him.

“Hey,” he says, offering a small smile as he sets his bag on the counter. “How was your day?”

“It was good,” you reply, wiping your dust-covered hands on your jeans. “Got most of my stuff sorted out.”

He glances toward your room and nods approvingly. “Nice. Looks like you’ve been busy.”

“Yeah, I figured I’d get it all done before it starts to feel like a chore.”

Seokjin chuckles as he loosens his tie completely and drapes it over a chair. “Smart move. I should probably take a page out of your book. My closet’s a disaster zone right now.”

“Really?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t strike me as the messy type.”

He shrugs, pulling open the fridge to grab a bottle of water. “It’s organized chaos. I know where everything is… mostly.”

You laugh softly, some of the tension you’d been holding onto easing as the conversation flows naturally. For the first time since last night, you don’t feel quite so on edge around him.

“Anyway,” he says, taking a sip of water and leaning against the counter, “I’m gonna change out of this and make something for dinner. You hungry?”

“Starving,” you admit, realizing you hadn’t eaten much while caught up in organizing.

“Cool. Give me like ten minutes,” he says with a grin, already heading toward his room.

As he disappears down the hallway, you let out another breath you didn’t realize you were holding. It’s going to take some time to feel normal here, but for now, small moments like this help.

Back to one step at a time.

Yes… one step at a time.

Jin reappears in casual clothes—sweatpants and a loose tee that somehow still manages to look good on him—and heads straight to the kitchen. You sit on the couch, doomscrolling on social media to consume random content to keep you busy in the meantime.

The comforting sound of clattering pots and pans fills the apartment, accompanied by the savory aroma of something delicious in the making.

When he calls out, “Hope you like pasta carbonara,” you can’t help but feel grateful he’s even making you food. 

He doesn’t have to do this, but it’s nice that he is.

He sets the steaming pan on top of a hot pad on the table, followed by two plates, forks, and a sprinkle of grated cheese in a small dish. “Voilà. Gourmet dining at its finest.”

This actually looks like high quality italian restaurant quality presentation.

You take a seat, eyeing the dish appreciatively. “Woah? Fancy. Do you cook like this all the time?”

He grins as he spoons a generous serving onto your plate. “Not always. I have a rotation: this, ramen, steak, kimchi jjigae, and… takeout. Lots of takeout.”

You laugh, grabbing your fork. “Sounds somewhat balanced.”

“I try to keep it balanced but,” he agrees, twirling pasta onto his fork. “I also work out a bit too.”

“Nice,” 

In your mind, you’re thinking “yeah, you’ve seen him workout alright”

This is really going to eat at you at this rate.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence for a while, the rich, creamy flavors of the pasta doing wonders for your mood. It feels surreal to be sitting here, sharing a meal with someone who, just days ago, you were convinced would be a terrible roommate.

The meal is delicious, better than you’d expected. For a while, you let yourself get lost in the comforting simplicity of eating—pasta twirling on your fork, the sauce aroma wafting up, the occasional clink of silverware against plates.

It feels… normal. Nice, even. But still, at the back of your mind, there’s a quiet storm brewing.

The night before keeps replaying in your head, uninvited and intrusive, like a broken record you can’t turn off. You glance at Seokjin as he eats, his features relaxed, his posture casual. How can he seem so normal when you know what he was doing less than 24 hours ago?

The mental tug-of-war begins: Should you just ignore it? Pretend it never happened? Or—

“So,” you blurt, interrupting your own thoughts, “what exactly do you do for work?”

Jin looks up, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. “I work in marketing,” he says, reaching for his water.

You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Marketing for…?”

He grins, sensing your peaked interest. “Riot Games. You know, the League of Legends company?”

Your eyes widen. “No way! What! That’s so cool.”

That’s actually a pretty awesome career.

And so Seokjin of him.

“Yeah, it’s pretty fun. A lot of campaigns and community engagement stuff. It keeps me busy, but I like it. Games have always been my thing.”

That part doesn’t surprise you. Growing up, Jin was always glued to his Game Boy, computer or chattering about his latest high scores. This career seems like a natural fit for him.

“Of course, I remember that well,” you say, smiling. “Also explains the gaming setup.”

“The gaming setup?” Jin freezes for a fraction of a second, his fork hovering mid-air. His expression shifts from casual to guarded so quickly you almost miss it.

Shit.

You scramble to backtrack. “Uh, I just mean… you seem like the type to have a cool gaming setup, you know? Dual monitors, fancy keyboard, maybe some LED lights?”

His shoulders relax slightly, though his eyes remain sharp, watching you closely. “Haven’t shown you my room yet. How’d you know?”

“I didn’t,” you reply quickly, forcing a laugh. “It’s just a guess. I mean, come on, you work at Riot Games. Wouldn’t you have the gear to match?”

Jin tilts his head, a playful smirk tugging at his lips before he leans back in his chair. “Actually,” he says, his tone shifting slightly, “I’ve been a bit shy to mention this, but… I’m also a Twitch streamer.”

You already knew this from prior snooping, so you gotta act surprised.

Your fork pauses mid-air. “Woah? You are?”

He nods, a little sheepish now, which is a rare look for him. “Yeah. My old roommate actually got me into it awhile back. It started as a way to unwind after work, but then it kinda… took off. Nothing crazy, but it’s been fun.”

You don’t think that 200,000 followers is something to not be impressed about. That is a decently big audience for someone who hasn’t been doing it for too long.

That sparks your curiosity. “Really? What do you stream?”

“Well, gaming mainly as you saw,” he says, shrugging. “Some League, Valorant… a bit of variety stuff when I feel like it. My audience isn’t huge, but it’s a solid little community to talk with.”

Audience, right.

Your mind flashes back to last night—the setup, the webcam, the comments streaming on the screen—and your stomach tightens. He wanted to hide this from you but still has more to uncover, but he’s so good at hiding it. Well, at least until you caught him yesterday.

You try to keep your expression neutral as you ask, “Isn’t it hard to balance with your job?”

Seokjin shakes his head. “Not really. Most of my streams are at night, after work. I mean, I’m already up, so I might as well do something productive, right?”

Productive, you think, the word ricocheting in your head. If only he knew…

“That’s… really cool,” you manage, keeping your tone even. “Do you think you’ll ever go full-time with it?”

He laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Nah. I like streaming, but I don’t think I’d give up my day job for it. It’s more of a side hustle, you know? Keeps me busy and entertained.”

“Right,” you say, nodding. “That makes sense.”

“I’ll have to show it to you some time. Maybe even let you try the setup if you’re into games.”

Oh?

“Sure,” you say, nodding too eagerly. “That sounds fun. Though I’ve always been a Nintendo girl,”

“I do recall, and that’s fine by me. We could play Mario Kart!”

“That sounds like a lot of fun, Jin—”

The word slips out naturally, before you even realize it. You freeze mid-sentence, your lips parting as the familiar nickname hangs awkwardly in the air. You haven’t called him “Jin” since elementary school. It used to roll off your tongue back when you were kids, when he was just a goofy classmate you exchanged Pokémon cards with and competed against in dodgeball. But ever since reconnecting as adults, you’ve made a conscious effort to just refer to him by his full name, Seokjin. It felt more appropriate. More… grown-up.

And it created a boundary, which now feels undone by you calling him more casually. Curse you getting more comfortable with this man! His eyes widen slightly at the sound of it, his smile faltering for only a split second before softening into something warmer. “Jin, huh?” he muses, raising an eyebrow. “Haven’t heard you call me that in years.”

You swallow, cheeks warming as you try to play it off casually. “Oh. Uh, sorry— I just—”

“You just what?” he teases gently, clearly enjoying your flustered state.

You groan, covering your face for a brief moment. “It just slipped out, okay? Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Hmm.” His voice hums with amusement, and when you peek at him through your fingers, he’s looking at you with a fond expression that makes your stomach flip. “I don’t mind it, you know. Kinda like it, actually.”

“You like it?”

“Yeah,” he says simply, shrugging. “It’s nostalgic.”

There’s a pause as the two of you exchange a quiet glance, something unspoken settling in the air between you. For a moment, you swear his gaze lingers on you just a little too long.

“Well,” you mutter, trying to brush off the sudden tension. “If you don’t mind it, I guess I’ll start calling you Jin again.”

His smile widens into something bright and genuine, then chuckles. “Good! Doesn’t feel too weird anyways since my Twitch chat calls me Jin as well.”

And you were flustered over this for nothing.

The conversation moves on, but every time you say “Jin”, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—something you can’t quite place. You ignore it though, as his dirty secret continues to gnaw at your mind more than whatever he must be thinking.

Glancing at him as he finishes his pasta, a soft hum escaping him as he collects the plates.

You retreat to your room, bidding Jin a casual goodnight as he mentions his plans for the evening. “Gonna play some Elden Ring with my friends, and then stream a Pokémon randomized Nuzlocke at nine,” he says, grinning. “If you hear me yelling at any ungodly hour, just know it’s the RNG gods being cruel.”

“Good to know,” you reply with a small laugh before closing your door behind you.

Settling onto your bed, you decide to distract yourself with something immersive—Bakemonogatari. It’s been on your list for a long time, and felt like now would be a good time to watch it. The anime’s intricate dialogue and surreal visuals immediately pull you in, though it’s hard to focus completely with lingering thoughts of Jin playing games only a few walls away.

You shake your head, forcing yourself to focus on the screen. As the narrative deepens and the subtitles demand your full attention, your eyelids grow heavier. Soon, the soft glow of the laptop screen and the soothing cadence of the voice acting lull you into a deep sleep.

A good sleep.

The kind of sleep you’ve been craving after a long day of cleaning, unpacking, and organizing—a chance to reset and settle fully into this new chapter of your life.

Until a familiar sensation stirs you awake.

You blink blearily at the clock on your nightstand.

2:35 a.m.

Déjà vu hits you like a freight train. The thirst pulls you out of bed, an undeniable urge. With a groggy sigh, you shuffle out of your room and make your way to the kitchen.

The dim light from the hallway guides you as you grab a water bottle from under the sink. The cool plastic feels grounding in your hand as you twist the cap open and take a long, satisfying sip.

Refreshed, you glance around. It’s quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the soft whir of your thoughts.

And then your gaze instinctively drifts toward Jin’s room again.

Not for the wrong reasons! you tell yourself defensively. It’s just… you’re checking on him. Making sure he’s okay!

Right?

Your bare feet make the softest pats against the floor as you tiptoe a little closer to the hallway leading to Jin’s room. Sure enough, a familiar sliver of light leaks from the partially ajar door.

But something’s different this time.

You squint, leaning just enough to peek in.

There he is.

Seokjin sits cross-legged at his desk, headphones on, illuminated by the glow of his monitors. But instead of his usual casual attire or the polished look he had earlier, he’s wearing a pajama set. A blue pajama set covered in cartoon characters. The sight of him in something so unexpectedly cute throws you for a loop.

On the screen, the familiar pixelated world of Pokémon sprawls before him.

“Okay guys, I should end the live here,” he says cheerfully, his voice carrying through the quiet apartment. “But I’m almost at the Elite Four! This team I have right now is pretty solid, even if we lost Moon the Lunatone. I’ll get through the rival battle and stop there.”

Your jaw slackens.

Wait, what?

Where’s the camwork? The NSFW content? The explicit… everything you’d stumbled upon last night?

Confusion swirls in your chest as you scurry back to your room, shutting the door as quietly as possible. You lean against it, clutching the water bottle in both hands as your mind races.

What is going on here?

Had you… imagined it? No, that couldn’t be right. The vivid image of last night flashes through your mind unbidden, heat creeping up your neck as you recall every mortifying detail.

But now? He’s just streaming a Pokémon Nuzlocke like a completely normal, wholesome gamer.

Maybe you dreamed it…?

You sit on the edge of your bed, clutching the water bottle as if it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

Maybe you were just seeing things last night.

The thought plants itself firmly in your mind, and as much as you try to swat it away, it lingers. You were exhausted yesterday. Between moving, unpacking, and the emotional whirlwind of losing your job and your relationship, maybe your mind just… played tricks on you.

Yeah, that must be it.

There’s no way you actually saw Jin doing that.

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god, I’m losing it,” you mutter under your breath.

Still, the memory feels so vivid. The faint glow of his screen, his movements, the soft noises—ugh, stop it! You shake your head, desperate to push the images out of your mind.

But the scene you just witnessed tonight couldn’t be more different. Jin was just… Jin. Cute pajama set, gaming setup, and an audience of what you assume were adoring fans cheering him on as he streamed his Pokémon playthrough.

Totally innocent.

Totally normal.

You flop back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. Your chest tightens as you try to rationalize it all. Maybe the stress and lack of sleep made your brain concoct some wild scenario. After all, you’re in a new place with a guy you haven’t seen since childhood. Maybe it’s just your subconscious working overtime as you’re lacking physical touch.

That has to be it, you convince yourself, pulling the blanket over your face.

And that’s exactly what you’ve convinced yourself to think.

Over two weeks have passed, and from the few times you’ve stumbled out of bed late at night, you haven’t encountered anything remotely similar to what you thought you saw on your first night here.

It became easier and easier to believe you hallucinated the whole thing.

Stress does crazy things to people, you told yourself. You just need to focus on your life.

Still, the faint embarrassment lingers every now and then, but it’s manageable. After all, you’ve been busy with moving-in activities, refining your resume, and applying to jobs. Productivity has been your savior, keeping your mind occupied and away from thoughts of intimacy—something that feels uncomfortable ever since your last relationship ended in betrayal.

Order seems to have been restored.

Conversations with Seokjin (who you now refer to as Jin) have become more natural, the initial awkwardness dissipating as you become more comfortable with one another and you’ve settled into a rhythm. You respect each other’s spaces, and despite the occasional childish banter, the dynamic is easy, like good old friends reconnecting.

You’ve gone shopping together for groceries, evening outings to eat at a sit-in restaurant or even just go for a drive or walk to destress, which usually ends in getting ice cream or bubble tea.

It’s oddly casual, but you don’t mind that. This is how things should be now that you’re both adults.

It’s a Thursday at noon when you hear the doorbell and find a large package waiting for Jin. 

[You: Hey, there's a big package addressed to you at the door? Where should I put it?]

After texting him to ask where to leave it, he eventually responds:

[Jin: Ah, thanks for letting me know. I was waiting on that to come in. Jin:Just put it in my room if you don’t mind!]

[You: Okay!]

And with that, you pick up the box and head toward his room.

It occurs to you as you step inside that this is your first time actually entering his space.

Jin’s room is, unsurprisingly, immaculate—spacious, well-organized, and undeniably him. The decor is a cute mix of his personality: shelves filled with gaming figures, an impressive collection of games, and stuffed animals of his favorite creatures scattered across the bed. There’s even a small shrine to Mario and Kirby in the corner that makes you grin.

You place the package on his bed as instructed and turn to leave, but something catches your eye.

His monitor.

The screen is still on, displaying a cluttered web browser with more tabs open than anyone should realistically have. You almost laugh at the chaos of it—thirty, maybe forty tabs?

But then your gaze lands on one in particular.

A small icon. A name.

Chaturbate.

Your heart skips a beat.

Oh. My. God.

It’s like the carefully constructed world of denial you’ve built over the past week shatters in an instant.

No way. No, no, no, this can’t be?!

Your feet feel glued to the floor as your mind races. This can’t be real. Why would Jin have that open? Wasn’t it just a mistake that night? A fluke? A hallucination?!

And yet, here it is. Right in front of you.

Your stomach flips as hell’s gates open again, memories from that night rushing back in vivid detail.

Curiosity claws at you, relentless and insistent. You know you shouldn’t, but the urge to know is overwhelming. If it really is what you think it is… then maybe, just maybe, you can confirm it and put this strange, lingering mystery to rest.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you step closer to the desk. The glow of the screen feels accusatory, like a spotlight shining on your guilt. This is so wrong, you think, but your hand still moves.

You nudge the mouse, waking the monitor from its idle dimness.

The browser window expands to full brightness, revealing the countless tabs more clearly now. You spot the one labeled Chaturbate. Your fingers hover over the mouse, trembling slightly, and before you can talk yourself out of it, you click.

The page loads immediately.

And there it is.

The profile is still open, though it’s not broadcasting live. A banner at the top reads: "Offline – Streams Scheduled 3x a month. Next stream: Tonight at 1:30AM."

The alias catches your eye immediately, bold and unmistakable at the top of the page: "BigTunaManXOXO"

Big Tuna Man?

You have to chuckle, though the sound feels unnatural in the stillness of the room. Well, he did mention he likes tuna when you two had sushi two days ago. You shake your head in disbelief at how absurd the situation is.

Scrolling a little more, your heart races as the tags and content descriptions appear on the screen. Tags like casual play, NSFW, punishment, and even interactive fill the list, confirming everything you feared—and hoped—was true.

What did you expect? you think, eyes scanning the content. His previous streams, unlocked for paid viewers, show glimpses of what you had seen—shirtless moments, fan interactions, and those subtle teases. Some comments from regular viewers flash on the screen: "You’re so cute, Big Tuna. Gonna get your next stream tonight?"

A pit forms in your stomach as you scroll further, seeing the balance of gaming content mixed with something... different. There are a few VODs, some marked with glowing red icons and some tagged with things like solo play, toys, edging and private sessions. Your breath catches in your throat as you click on one of the unlocked streams. It starts to load, and before you can stop yourself, you’re staring at a past broadcast.

Seokjin.

In a black Alo Yoga hoodie and 5” inseam black shorts. The camera angle is different now, the lighting softer, more intimate. His voice comes through clearly, playful, teasing. You watch as he interacts with the chat, joking around with his viewers, and then... he moves the camera just enough that you can see the lower half of his face for a moment—barely anything though, but enough to confirm it’s him to you, who has been seeing him every day since you moved in with him.

His usual smile is replaced by something softer, more relaxed, more... flirty.

And then, there it is.

The content, the movement—just like you saw that first night. The subtle, slow gestures that make everything come rushing back, and for a moment, you forget to breathe.

You harshly click the tab shut, returning to the previous tab it once was. Quickly, you leave Jin’s room, making sure not to disturb anything else. The echo of the laptop snapping shut still rings in your ears, and your hands are trembling slightly as you step back into the hallway.

You hope it doesn’t look like you lingered too long. The last thing you need is for him to know you were snooping around, even accidentally. You slip back into your own room, shutting the door behind you, and lean against it, exhaling shakily.

This is too much.

You now have undeniable proof. Solid, irrefutable evidence that the man you’re living with, sharing meals with, and chatting about Pokémon and pasta with... is a cam boy. A cam boy doing porn and who’s managed to keep this side hustle hidden under layers of casual charm and everyday normalcy.

It’s not the fact that he does that kind of work that bothers you, not at all. If anything, it’s more… personal than that… The memory of what you saw—his expressions, his movements—lingers in your mind like an unshakable phantom, making your body feel uncomfortably warm and restless. You sink onto your bed, burying your face in your hands as if that will somehow erase the imagery burned into your brain.

Get it together, you tell yourself.

But curiosity—it’s a relentless beast. The harder you try to shove it down, the more insistent it becomes. Questions start to pile up, each one more intrusive than the last.

Does anyone recognize him? Do his fans know?

You grab your phone, desperate for answers, and open Reddit. If there’s one place on the internet where secrets can’t stay buried, it’s here. Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you type: Gamer Jin and BigTunaManXOXO Reddit.

The search yields only two results. Two. A drop in the ocean of online gossip and speculation, yet still enough to send your heart into overdrive.

You tap the first thread: “Jin and BigTunaManXOXO: Double Life?”

The original poster’s comment pulls you in instantly:

“Okay, is it just me, or doesn’t he sound like this cam boy BigTunaManXOXO? Literally has the same voice, same mannerisms... someone tell me I’m not crazy.”

The replies are a mix of disbelief, humor, and outright denial. Some users dismiss the theory as absurd, calling it disrespectful to Jin. Others joke about the sheer randomness of the comparison, adding memes and GIFs for good measure.

But a small minority entertains the possibility.

“I mean… I’ve seen his streams. The way he laughs does sound kinda similar…”

“I don’t think it’s him, but if it were, that would be WILD.”

One reply makes your stomach churn:

“Not saying it’s him, but I subscribed to BigTunaManXOXO just to fantasize about him being Jin. No regrets.”

You stare at the screen, your mind spinning. The majority of commenters don’t believe the theory, dismissing it as pure coincidence. But they have no idea how close they are to the truth.

And now, neither can you unsee it.

Seokjin arrived home that evening with a bright smile and the unmistakable aroma of takeout wafting through the apartment. The bags he carried crinkled as he shifted them in his arms, his voice ringing out cheerfully, “Guess what I got? Bao buns! And a few other things, but mostly the bao buns—because I remembered you mentioned them earlier this week.”

You hear a knock at your door a moment later, and you pause, nerves prickling under your skin. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before opening it. Seokjin stands there, still dressed in his work clothes but with his usual easygoing grin.

“Dinner’s here. Come eat,” he says, gesturing toward the living room with the bags.

You nod, smiling back, though it feels a little forced. “Thanks, Jin. That’s really thoughtful of you.”

His sharp eyes linger on you for a beat too long, and you know he’s caught the slight edge in your tone, the nervous way you’re holding the door. He doesn’t say anything, but his expression shifts—subtle, curious. He doesn’t push, though; that’s not his style.

Instead, he leans back casually and adds, “I figured we could eat and watch something. Maybe an old favorite of yours?” He raises a brow, the corners of his lips tugging upward knowingly. “Bleach? I noticed you have some merch on your bookshelf.”

Your heart skips a beat, both from the thoughtful gesture and the fact that Seokjin’s perceptiveness always seems to catch you off guard. Does he see right through me? Does he know what I found?

“Bleach sounds good,” you say quickly, hoping to steady yourself. “Let me just grab something, and I’ll meet you in the living room.”

“Cool,” he says, his voice calm but tinged with something else—maybe a touch of inquisition. He walks off toward the kitchen, leaving you alone for a moment.

You close the door softly, leaning your head against it. Why does he have to be so…—you search for the right word—attentive? It’s like he has a radar for when something’s wrong. And now, dinner and your childhood favorite anime feel like a test of your ability to act normal.

A few minutes later, you join him in the living room. The coffee table is already set with the takeout containers: bao buns, lo mein, orange chicken, and fried rice. Jin is on the couch, flipping through streaming options until he lands on Bleach. He looks up and pats the cushion next to him.

“Sit. I already started the episode where Ichigo reunites with Rukia and the other Gotei 13 soul reapers. Start of my favorite arcs.”

You sit, the warm scent of the food making your stomach growl despite the anxious knot twisting inside you. Seokjin slides a plate toward you, and the two of you settle into a rhythm—eating, watching, occasionally commenting on the nostalgia of the show.

But the tension lingers.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch him glancing at you between bites, as if trying to figure out what’s on your mind. And you wonder just how long it will take before his curiosity outweighs his patience.

As you both finish up the episode of Bleach, Seokjin turns to you, his gaze warm yet inquisitive. “So, how was your day?”

You pause for a second, collecting your thoughts. 

What to say? What did you do today before your world got flipped upside down… Oh right… the job interview. “Busy,” you say with a small laugh. “I had a second interview earlier for a job.”

His eyebrows lift, impressed. “Oh? What’s the role?”

“It’s for a coordinator position at a small fashion house,” you explain. “It went… great, actually. But I don’t think I’ll get it though.”

Jin frowns, leaning slightly closer. “Why not? You just said it went great.”

You shrug, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know. It’s just a gut feeling, I guess. Fashion’s cutthroat, you know? The people in that industry are quick to judge if you don’t fit the vibe they’re looking for. You can have all the skills, a good background, everything—but it’s still not enough sometimes. I don’t think I got what they want.”

He watches you for a moment, then sets down his plate and reaches across the table. His hand finds yours, warm and grounding. “Hey,” he says softly, his voice steady. “You are good enough. I know it’s hard not to overthink, but you have to believe that you bring something special to the table.”

Your chest tightens at his words, the sincerity in his tone. His thumb brushes your knuckles gently, and that nervous feeling blooms again, tugging at the edges of your thoughts. There’s something so familiar about this—like nostalgia wrapped in uncertainty. It’s comforting, but it scares you all the same.

You blink, pulling your hand back as casually as you can without it seeming abrupt. “Thanks, Jin,” you say, your voice tight. “I… I should probably get ready for this international networking seminar I have. It’s later tonight so I’ll be up for awhile.”

He tilts his head slightly, concern flickering in his expression, but he doesn’t press. “Right. Well, good luck with it. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Right back ‘atcha,” you reply quickly, standing up. You gather the disposable utensils and plates in a hurry, tossing them into the trash before he can say anything else.

Seokjin stays seated on the couch, his gaze lingering on you as you retreat to your room. The moment you close the door behind you, you exhale sharply, pressing your back against it.

Why does he have to be like this? So supportive, so perceptive, so… kind?

This is not the Seokjin you imagined when you decided to move in here!

You shake your head, trying to refocus your thoughts. You have work to do. The seminar is important, and you need to be prepared. But even as you sit down at your desk and open your laptop, you can’t shake the image of Jin’s hand on yours or the soft encouragement in his voice.

It’s almost enough to make you forget what you saw earlier today. Almost.

Would it do you any good to force yourself to forget? Pretend that the tab you saw was just a fleeting mistake, an inconsequential moment in time?

Or would it be better to confront this unsettling curiosity head-on? Maybe, if you understood more about his “side hobby,” you could find a way to desensitize yourself. Make it less of a big deal. Normalize it in your head.

The thought gnaws at you until you’re lying in bed at 1:28 a.m., the glow of your laptop casting a dim light across your room. You’re wearing your old blue track shorts and a faded YMCA T-shirt, the kind of comfort wear you don’t expect anyone to see you in. You thought the seminar would last longer, but with some guest speaker changes, it ended right at 1am.

So now you’re doing this.

The chat on the pending livestream is already alive—rows of messages racing up the screen, eager fans buzzing in anticipation of “BigTunaMan’s” arrival.

You can’t believe you’re actually doing this.

You glance at the clock again. One minute to go.

Then, he appears.

The camera flicks on, revealing Seokjin—or BigTunaMan, as his audience knows him—seated in his chair, the warm glow of soft lighting the only facially visible part of him: his lower half of his face and the subtle curve of his smirk. He’s wearing a loose tank top, the kind that clings just enough to hint at the lines of his shoulders and chest, paired with pajama bottoms that ride low on his hips. His demeanor is relaxed, confident, and undeniably captivating.

“Hey there, my army of lovers,” he greets, his voice lower, smoother, each word deliberately stretched out as if he’s tasting them. The chat floods instantly with messages, adoration pouring in from every corner of his audience.

“BigTunaMan, looking gorgeous as always!”

“Omg, talk slower, I can’t handle it.”

“Take all my money, please.”

Jin leans forward, resting his chin in his hand, his lips curling into an indulgent smile as he reads through the comments. “You’ve all been so patient tonight,” he purrs. “So how about I spoil you a little?”

He picks up a small bowl of strawberries from beside him, holding it up for the camera. The way his fingers brush over the fruit feels intentional, sensual, as though he’s fully aware of the effect he has on the people watching.

“Let’s start simple,” he murmurs, his gaze flickering to the chat, teasing. “A little ASMR snack to set the mood. And of course, I’ll be saying your names—if you’ve earned it.”

The screen lights up with donations almost instantly, usernames accompanied by desperate messages and heart emojis.

He picks a strawberry from the bowl, holding it delicately between his fingers, and bites into it slowly. The sound is soft but amplified, deliberate, and his eyes never leave the camera. He chews thoughtfully, his tongue darting out briefly to catch a stray bit of juice.

“Thank you, PurpleHeart94,” he whispers, his voice silky and intimate. “You’re so generous tonight, baby.” He takes another bite, his gaze steady and smoldering. “And you, HentaiPrincess420—what a sweet name. Thank you for spoiling me when I should be doing that to you.”

Shit… He’s so smooth.

The chat goes wild, messages pouring in faster than you can keep track of them.

He takes his time, naming off more donors, each one met with a sultry thank-you, his tone dripping with playful affection. By the time the strawberries are gone, the tension in the air feels palpable, even through the screen.

Jin leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he speaks. “Now that we’re warmed up,” he says, his voice dropping lower, “how about we move on to something… a little more sexy?”

Your breath catches.

“The touching session,” he says simply, his hand trailing down his chest slowly, almost lazily. The camera angle shifts slightly, framing him in a way that feels more intimate, inviting, as if he’s closing the distance between himself and his audience.

You’re not sure whether you should close the laptop or keep watching, but your fingers remain frozen, hovering over the keyboard.

The chat explodes:

“YES, PLEASE!”

“Touch me instead!”

“PICK ME CHOOSE ME BigTunaMan!”

Jin chuckles, the sound low and resonant. “Patience,” he chides softly. “We’ve got all night, haven’t we?”

The camera zooms in slightly, drawing your focus to the deliberate, almost hypnotic movements of Jin’s hands as they trail over his skin. His voice, smooth and sultry, seeps into your ears like honey, wrapping around your thoughts and making it impossible to concentrate on anything else.

“Do you like this?” he murmurs, his tone so intimate it feels like he’s speaking directly to you. “Tell me how much you want it.”

The chat erupts in eager replies, but they’re a distant hum compared to the pounding of your heart. You can’t look away.

Though he keeps his face just out of view, it’s his voice that captures you, that low, velvety timbre punctuated by soft, breathy moans. They’re unintentional, almost reluctant, but they strike something deep within you.

You swallow hard, your throat dry, as your eyes remain glued to the screen. The way his hands move—slow, teasing, purposeful—sends heat coursing through your body. Every movement is a study in precision, a dance of tension and release that makes your breath hitch.

You feel your body responding in ways you didn’t expect. Warmth pools low in your belly, and your thighs press together instinctively. Your fingers hover near the trackpad, ready to click away but unable to follow through.

“This feels good, doesn’t it?” he continues, his voice breaking into a soft groan that sends a shiver down your spine. Why is this actually feeling…good. You can’t stop yourself from imagining those hands on you, guiding you, making you forget everything—your ex, the breakup, the shitty job market, the confusion of the past weeks.

For a moment, you close your eyes and let the sound of his voice wash over you. Your fingers inch lower, hesitating, as you let yourself get lost in the moment. You’re not thinking about the consequences, about what this means. You’re thinking about him—his hands, his voice, the heat building inside you.

The guilt simmers beneath the surface, but it’s drowned out by the relentless pull of desire. The screen lights up your room, but it’s his voice and movements that light you up inside. You barely notice the chat anymore; it’s just you and him in this moment, an unspoken connection through the glow of the laptop.

Your breath comes in shallow gasps as your hand moves on its own accord, slipping under the waistband of your shorts. You close your eyes again, imagining his hands instead of your own, his voice murmuring your name instead of the ones flooding the chat. For the first time in weeks, maybe months, you let yourself feel without holding back.

In this moment, nothing else matters. Fuck the breakup you had with Mingi. Fuck the stress of job searching. Fuck the awkwardness of living with him. And most importantly, fuck the consequences of watching this. It’s just him, the way he makes you feel, and the heat that consumes you completely.

Your breath hitches as your hands wander further, slipping under your shirt to tease at your nipples, fingers rolling and pinching lightly. Each touch sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, but it’s not enough—not compared to what you’re watching on the screen.

Not like Jin’s movements at all.

Jin’s hands move with expert precision against his dick, his body shifting slightly as he leans into the motions. His moans, soft yet intentional, echo in your ears, spurring your own need higher. You slide your shorts down your hips, the cool air kissing your skin as they drop to the floor.

Your fingers dip lower, grazing over the slick heat pooling between your thighs. It’s good, but not nearly enough. You want more. You need more.

With a frustrated sigh, you pull yourself away from the bed, heart pounding as you open the drawer of your nightstand. Your fingers quickly locate the toy nestled among your folded underwear. It’s a guilty secret you’ve kept for moments like this, though none of those moments have ever felt as charged as this one.

You crawl back onto the bed, the glow of the screen casting shadows over your skin. Jin’s voice fills the room, low and enticing, as he murmurs, “You want me to keep going? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Your thighs clench involuntarily at his words, your hand trembling slightly as you press the toy against yourself. The first vibration jolts through you, a gasp escaping your lips as your body arches into the sensation.

On the screen, Jin leans back slightly, his voice dipping even lower. “Just relax,” he says, as though he knows exactly what you’re doing. “Let me make you feel good.”

You follow his lead, letting the toy work against you as your free hand resumes teasing your chest. The pleasure builds steadily, your movements syncing with his as if he’s guiding you through the screen.

Every sound he makes, every deliberate motion, heightens the sensation coursing through you. You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, but a soft moan slips out despite your efforts. The rhythm of the toy against you matches the cadence of his voice, and it feels as though he’s right there, coaxing you to the edge. You feel yourself almost reaching your orgasm.

But then…

The darkness in the room is lit by the various colored lights and monitor screens as Jin’s chest rises and falls. He begins to slows his movements on his cock, his fingers curling reflexively against his skin. For a brief, unguarded moment, his mind conjures your image—your laughter from earlier at dinner, the way you nervously tugged at the hem of your shirt when he reached out to reassure you.

Woah, what.

Why am I thinking about her right now?

The thought crashes into him like a freight train, shattering his carefully constructed cam-boy persona. His rhythm falters, and as he shifts back abruptly, his elbow knocks into the small Mario figure perched on the edge of his desk.

The figure wobbles, teeters, and then tumbles, the plastic base snapping cleanly off as it hits the hardwood floor.

“Shit!” Jin hisses, his hands flying up to stop the disaster that’s already occurred.

He quickly reaches for the webcam, clicking off the feed and muttering a quick excuse to his audience. “Hey guys, I’ll be right back. Technical issue. Don’t go anywhere.”

The chat floods with reactions—some disappointed, others supportive—but Jin pays them no mind. He gets himself covered up, with his focus no on the broken Mario figure in his hands.

He turns it over, the damage glaringly obvious. It’s just a silly little figurine to anyone else, but to Jin, it’s so much more. You’d given it to him during a Secret Santa exchange in elementary school. It was back when you were both just kids, long before life got complicated and your paths diverged.

He’d kept it all these years, quietly treasuring the memory of that moment, even if you probably didn’t remember.

“Damn it…” he mutters under his breath. He needs super glue—immediately.

The thought strikes him like lightning: you bought super glue just the other day to fix a keychain. You even mentioned it offhand while you were unloading groceries together.

You must have it in your room.

Without hesitation, Jin stands, his mind racing with urgency. You’d said you’d be up late for some seminar, so you’re probably awake. There’s no time to text or knock; he can just explain in person. You’re a few steps away anyway.

He pushes your door open, stepping inside in a rush, only for the world to come screeching to a halt.

His eyes widen as they land on you—sprawled on your bed, your shirt rucked up to expose bare breasts and heat, your shorts kicked off and forgotten. The unmistakable hum of a vibrator fills the air, the glow of your laptop illuminating your flushed face.

Holy shit, he just caught his new roommate and childhood rival… friend? masterbating.

Your hand freezes mid-motion as you look at him, your expression a mixture of shock and mortification.

For a moment, neither of you moves.

“I—” Jin stammers, his voice catching in his throat. His gaze darts away, his face heating up so fast it feels like it might combust. “I—oh my god—I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—”

Your own voice fails you, a strangled moaning sound escaping your lips as you scramble to pull the blanket over yourself, fumbling in a panic.

“W-What the hell, Jin!” you manage to croak, your voice high-pitched and shaky.

“I needed super glue!” he blurts out, clutching the broken Mario figure in his hands like it’s the most important thing in the world. “For this! It’s broken, and I—”

“This couldn’t wait?!” you snap, the mortification only growing as his words fully sink in.

Jin takes a step back, clearly flustered. “I didn’t think—! I mean, I thought you were—”

He freezes mid-sentence, his eyes darting to your laptop screen. His breath catches as the realization washes over him.

That’s my stream.

For a moment, the room is suffocatingly silent, his wide-eyed gaze flicking between you and the unmistakable paused screen of his cam boy persona on your laptop. You're watching me? The thought echoes in his mind, equal parts flattered and horrified.

Jin had sensed something was off earlier in the evening, even before all of this unfolded. After dinner, when he’d returned to his room, he’d noticed the Chaturbate tab—closed.

That was odd.

He distinctly remembered leaving it open before leaving for work this morning. He’d scheduled some exclusive content for his next stream and had moved the tab to a less conspicuous window. He figured maybe he’d closed it in a rush and forgotten.

But now, as he stood here, watching your flushed face buried in your hands, it started clicking into place.

Your awkward behavior during dinner—the way you fumbled through your answers, the slight tension in your laugh. He’d assumed you were just jittery from nerves after your job interview, but this? This was something else entirely.

How long have you known?

The realization settled in his chest like a slow-building weight, pushing him further toward clarity. His gaze softened, not with pity, but with a blend of intrigue and confusion.

“Y/N, you’re watching my camming stream?” he finally says, his voice low, incredulous.

You groan, your hands flying up to cover your burning face. “Oh my god. I can explain—no, wait, I can’t explain. Just—” You trail off, wishing for the earth to swallow you whole. Your voice is muffled through your palms as you mutter, “This isn’t what it looks like at all!”

You're kind of cute, all flustered like this, he thinks to himself.

Jin crosses his arms, leaning against your doorframe, and his lips quirk up into a lopsided smile. There’s amusement in his eyes, but also something more—interest, maybe? He tilts his head slightly, watching you squirm.

Maybe he should tease her a little, like old times.

“Wow,” he finally says, his voice low and teasing. “Have you been that lonely?”

Your head snaps up, your face somehow growing hotter. “What? No! I mean…” You falter, the truth sitting heavy on your tongue, and you look away, unable to meet his gaze. “Okay, maybe a little. The breakup was actually that bad and um…but this—this isn’t about that.”

He takes a step closer, his smirk softening into something gentler. “You could’ve told me.”

“Told you what?” you ask weakly, your heart pounding as he stands just a few feet away now.

“That you’ve been feeling like this. That you needed…” His voice dips, and his dark eyes flicker over you, lingering just a little too long. “Some help...”

Your breath catches, and you swallow hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Seokjin, I don’t—”

“I could help,” he interrupts, his tone soft but unmistakably suggestive.

The weight of his words settles over you like a warm blanket, and for a moment, all you can do is stare at him, your mind racing. Is he serious? Does he mean what you think he means?

No, like why would he? What does he gain from this? Even he himself wonders.

“You could help?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud would shatter whatever fragile tension exists between you.

His eyes lock onto yours, and the look he gives you is steady, confident, and almost daring. “Yeah,” he says. “If you’d let me.”

He doesn’t think you’ll actually accept it, if anything, this is probably time for you to officially kick him out–

“Then help me, already.”

–

–

–

a/n: this is really long chapter because i really wanted to add some psychological warfare going on in reader's head + some character development as these two "childhood rivals" start to befriend each other now in their adult lives. i hope you enjoy this chapter. happy holidays!! thank you all for the support and for reading!

➸ let me know what you think OR join the taglist for future works! ➸ check out my masterlist for other fics I have made

[rivereclipse]

Ichigo's Ray of Light

Hi! This is my first post related to IR and although I read several IR theories and analysis, I just wanted to share my cents about IR so please bear with my grammars as it was not my first language and there's a lot of spoiler written down there.

--

So as the title mentioned, we all know whom Ichigo's ray of light is. Well, it's definitely Rukia. Now, I always wonder why Rukia is Ichigo's ray of light. I think her name was based on a plant which sounds Rukia (sorry I can't find the said plant) and her name was actually written in hiragana. Kubo Tite also found out that her name's meaning was "Light" which fits the character and her purpose to the main character.

Rukia is really a catalyst to Ichigo. Aside from that she was the one who gave him the power and strength to protect his loved ones and people around him. He also mentioned in the end of Rukia/Soul Society rescue arc "Thank you, Rukia. Thanks to you... I think the rain... has stopped."

But how Rukia was able to stop Ichigo's rain and what was the connotation of rain on Ichigo?

Ichigo's mother died when he was nine years old. He truly believes he was the one who killed her because her death was unexplained and was no justice given. I think his inner soul was raining throughout the years he was depressed and was drowning in a lot of emotions. Loneliness, powerlessness, helplessness, disappointment. Those are the emotions he was feeling before meeting Rukia. I believe that he was grieving alone for his mother every year that they come to his mother's grave.

Ichigo was confronted by Rukia suggesting that his mother's death might be caused by a hollow which, he denied it and claiming that he was the one who killed her. Which leads them in a heated argument.

Rukia gave him space and waited for him to warm up to her and ready to share his burden with her which I think that lights up his heart a bit since he felt someone understood him. Someone understood what he really needed. He needed space for himself to digest what really happened and for him to allow his emotions to be channeled properly. I think she was very intuitive and understand how deep she will dive to his emotions. It is actually same goes with him but that's another topic.

I also think that Ichigo was not really able to talk how he feels about his tragic past and still in the process of figuring out how to deal with his emotions since he is still a teenager and that incident happens when he was a nine year old boy.

When Ichigo learned the truth about the young girl six years ago. How his mother was eaten because Grand Fisher's favorite was a woman when he was supposedly the one baited and will be eaten due to his high Spiritual Pressure. His emotions was stirred up and tries seeking for revenge and justice by settling it on his own hands when he was faced to Grand Fisher and mold his bait into the appearance of his mom.

His mother's last thoughts were transferred to the hollow so Ichigo was able to see her thoughts in which, she was grateful and proud of him. She also wanted him to leave peacefully and happy. Although he didn't defeat the hollow completely as it escaped but it did gave him a closure to his tragic past.

His father also comforted him and told him that he was not blaming Masaki's death. He wished him to get over his depression and live well and happy according to his mother's wishes.

He got a motivation to continue on being a shinigami and be strong since he wanted to protect and seek revenge for his mother's death or else his pride as a son, brother, and as himself can't face it.

If he wasn't a Shinigami, I think Ichigo will continue to carry on his grieving for his mom. He will not learn the truth about his mother's death. Worse, he will be much more drown to a lot of emotions while growing up and if he didn't address those, he may be miserable as an adult and a lot of traumas may resurface that he needs to address.

Rukia was the one who lights up and stopped the rain on Ichigo's world. She was the one who shed the truth by suggesting that a hollow may be the culprit. Somehow, she became the bridge on Ichigo's closure towards his tragic past. She also the one who gave him powers not only to protect his loved ones and people around him, but also an opportunity to defend his pride by not participating on his battle and help him.

She knocked his senses whenever he was feeling down whenever he feels disappointed in himself when his friends got hurt like Inoue and Chad when the espadas first visited the Living World and attacked them. She also believed him when he first feeling the hollow inside him. She is also the one who brings back his powers when he lost and feel powerless to Ginjo. She also uplifts him when he was betrayed by the people he loved and alone. She put faith on him when all the people in Soul Society thought he will sided with the enemy once he got his power back.

Somehow, I just wanted to give an emphasis on this panels/episode since I think it shows how Rukia was able to bring light to Ichigo and healing his past wounds by bringing closure to him. Although she did not do it directly but crossing paths with her ignites the destiny, knowledge, power, and transformation on Ichigo's life journey.

Truly, Rukia is the catalyst on Ichigo's life and truly the light of his life.

[the-art-of-witnessing-the-cosmos]

The beauty of the planet Saturn . 🪐

👑Known as the hardest Taskmaster who's entrusted with the job of delivering the Karmic lessons of our unique life blueprint.

👑He is the one that is the fairest of all. He rules over fairness , justice , general masses , pain , detachment , hard working , suffering , past , fears ,old age, loneliness, karma, the true reality of our material world. He rules over our resilient quality, our hardworking spirit , the lower classes , success , status , gain & money as well.

👑On a spiritual level , He grants the gift of equanimity, that is hard won by learning to let life happen to you and learning to flow through it , to not hold too tightly or even too lightly , to understand & live the fact that change is the truest reality which actually grants the true base of stability within & without.

👑He is the one who ensures that you get what you truly deserve and is ruthless in this endeavour . There are different ways to perceive him . How I see him is that he beyond the mask of the strictest teacher , is genuinely kind , genuine , true , honest & fair to all. He is impartial , he is the personification of 'Do unto others what you would have them do unto you. '

👑 He also signifies the areas of life where you feel loneliness ,restricted, dissatisfied but what is loneliness? Is not being alone a true reality of our human experience, despite having a lover , a loving family and everything, still our experience , our sense of feelings , emotions, thought processing , the colors that we feel when we live our experiences , in that true lived experience, we all are ultimately alone . True deep understanding is rare. True merging rarer. And total permanent satisfaction in this ever changing world , is it possible ?

👑He ensures , the surety of receiving what you truly deserve , beautiful lessons , gains or hardships , painful realisations that teach you the transient and illusive value of different facets of the material life that hold you back or keep your chained to your deep unconscious harmful impulses.

👑He is the healer that gives you the medicine which may taste like a poison to your ego but heals you inwardly but bringing inward balance , understanding, fairness & spiritual growth ultimately.

👑He is exalted in Libra. The real magic & beauty of Saturn is that he is the ultimate alchemist of the human soul. He bounds you to the deepest material attachments & your deepest fears & past life karmas/samskaras/mental imprints and he is the one that gives you the strength to transform theses experiences , learnings to discover your true spiritual nature which happens when your karmic accounts are balanced . Thus inward balance of the energy of Libra is satisfied.

👑He represents your past experiences , deepest fears , areas of difficult experiences , areas of resistance which we all wish to run away from but have to ultimately face them , face our lighter & darkest aspects so that integration of our fragmented energetic patterns can happen . This integration is the highest gift that we offer to ourselves and our higher self.

👑And then you grow up , you flower into true maturity & thus become the watcher , the observer , the mystic , the seer and can embrace the true colors of life & living.

👑You then understand that the pain of underprivileged people is yours too , that the society which we make up is not different than us because we together make it up. You also learn not to resist , to be humble , to understand the value of being patient with yourself & others. You learn to not run away from your deepest karmic fears because the more you run away from them , the more they gain power over your mind. Thus we become brave & learn that we are truly responsible for ourselves, our thoughts , our actions, our choices which gives us the true power to change and transform & gain & rise :).

🤍What goes around, comes around. What we do to others , we do it to ourselves too. The more love you give to yourself & others , the more you will get , the more needless pain/hurt you give to your self & others, then that's what you will be served hot and fresh :).

So choose wisely and understand that Saturn is on your side. He wants you to grow & discover your true nature. To realize that you & the other ( theme of Libra ) are actually one. 🤍

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

The Chronicles of Prydain by Lloyd Alexander

Taran wanted to be a hero, and looking after a pig wasn't exactly heroic, even though Hen Wen was an oracular pig. But the day that Hen Wen vanished, Taran was led into an enchanting and perilous world. With his band of followers, he confronted the Horned King and his terrible Cauldron-Born. These were the forces of evil, and only Hen Wen knew the secret of keeping the kingdom of Prydain safe from them. But who would find her first?

The Trumpet of the Swan by E. B. White

Louie is very popular. Who wouldn't love a swan who can read, write, and play the trumpet? When Louie goes to camp, he meets a boy named A.G. who doesn't like birds, and since Louie is a bird, that means he doesn't like Louie. When A.G. pulls a dangerous stunt out on the lake, he realizes that Louie is a hero, after all.

My Side of the Mountain by Jean Craighead George

Every kid thinks about running away at one point or another; few get farther than the end of the block. Young Sam Gribley gets to the end of the block and keeps going--all the way to the Catskill Mountains of upstate New York. There he sets up house in a huge hollowed-out tree, with a falcon and a weasel for companions and his wits as his tool for survival. In a spellbinding, touching, funny account, Sam learns to live off the land, and grows up a little in the process. Blizzards, hunters, loneliness, and fear all battle to drive Sam back to city life. But his desire for freedom, independence, and adventure is stronger. No reader will be immune to the compulsion to go right out and start whittling fishhooks and befriending raccoons.

The Black Stallion by Walter Farley

Alec Ramsay is the sole human survivor of a devastating shipwreck. Trapped on a deserted island, Alec finds his only companion is a horse, beautiful, unbroken, and savage . . . a horse whose beauty matches his wild spirit.

The Magisterium by Holly Black and Cassandra Clare

All his life, Call has been warned by his father to stay away from magic. To succeed at the Iron Trial and be admitted into the vaunted Magisterium school would bring bad things. But he fails at failing. Only hard work, loyal friends, danger, and a puppy await.

The Two Princesses of Bamarre by Gail Carson Levine

Twelve-year-old Addie admires her older sister Meryl, who aspires to rid the kingdom of Bamarre of gryphons, specters, and ogres. Addie, on the other hand, is fearful even of spiders and depends on Meryl for courage and protection. Waving her sword Bloodbiter, the older girl declaims in the garden from the heroic epic of Drualt to a thrilled audience of Addie, their governess, and the young sorcerer Rhys.

But when Meryl falls ill with the dreaded Gray Death, Addie must gather her courage and set off alone on a quest to find the cure and save her beloved sister. Addie takes the seven-league boots and magic spyglass left to her by her mother and the enchanted tablecloth and cloak given to her by Rhys - along with a shy declaration of his love. She prevails in encounters with tricky specters (spiders too) and outwits a wickedly personable dragon in adventures touched with romance and a bittersweet ending.

Bunnicula by Deborah and James Howe

Before it's too late, Harold the dog and Chester the cat must find out the truth about the newest pet in the Monroe household -- a suspicious-looking bunny with unusual habits... and fangs!

Beka Cooper by Tamora Pierce

Beka Cooper is a rookie with the law-enforcing Provost's Guard, commonly known as "the Provost's Dogs," in Corus, the capital city of Tortall. To the surprise of both the veteran "Dogs" and her fellow "puppies," Beka requests duty in the Lower City. The Lower City is a tough beat. But it's also where Beka was born, and she's comfortable there.

Beka gets her wish. She's assigned to work with Mattes and Clary, famed veterans among the Provost's Dogs. They're tough, they're capable, and they're none too happy about the indignity of being saddled with a puppy for the first time in years. What they don't know is that Beka has something unique to offer. Never much of a talker, Beka is a good listener. So good, in fact, that she hears things that Mattes and Clary never could - information that is passed in murmurs when flocks of pigeons gather ... murmurs that are the words of the dead.

In this way, Beka learns of someone in the Lower City who has overturned the power structure of the underworld and is terrorizing its citizens into submission and silence. Beka's magical listening talent is the only way for the Provost's Dogs to find out the identity of this brutal new underlord, for the dead are beyond fear. And the ranks of the dead will be growing if the Dogs can't stop a crime wave the likes of which has never been seen. Luckily for the people of the Lower City, the new puppy is a true terrier!

Fairest by Gail Carson Levine

In the kingdom of Ayortha, who is the fairest of them all? Certainly not Aza. She is thoroughly convinced that she is ugly. What she may lack in looks, though, she makes up for with a kind heart, and with something no one else has-a magical voice. Her vocal talents captivate all who hear them, and in Ontio Castle they attract the attention of a handsome prince - and a dangerous new queen.

Trickster's Duology by Tamora Pierce

Alianne is the teenage daughter of the famed Alanna, the first lady knight in Tortall. Young Aly follows in the quieter footsteps of her father, however, delighting in the art of spying. When she is captured and sold as a slave to an exiled royal family in the faraway Copper Islands, it is this skill that makes a difference in a world filled with political intrigue, murderous conspiracy, and warring gods.

[ani-iu]

[𝟑] 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒 | angel 𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 × female human 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: marriage of convenience; forced proximity; angst; domestic; crack treated seriously; possessive Adam; he falls first and harder; misogyny; Adam being Adam; explicit language; religious imagery & symbolism; sexual tension; eventual smut; happy ending; not canon compliant. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7,7k.

// blue-eyed altruist, keep your distance, but not too far

𝐀dam hates coffee.

He doesn’t like the earthy smell, finding it difficult to understand how anyone could derive enjoyment from something so unsavoury. And the bitter taste — it always, without fail, fades into the anticlimactic acidic aftertaste on his tongue, so already having endured a string of disappointments in his life, Adam opts out of drinking caffeine to spare himself from even more misery.

Yet, at this moment, as the black stainless steel exterior of the coffee vending machine swallows up the reflection of Adam’s black mask — only leaving an amber frown and two glaring eyes staring back at him visible — Adam feels like the happiest soul in Heaven. The bliss, however, is bittersweet.

By now, a couple of hours have passed since Adam and Lute split up so he could go to Sera’s office alone. But here he is, standing in the empty lobby, stalling the eventual visit for as long as he possibly can. He wasn’t afraid of the seraph; he was merely not in the mood to receive a stern talking to.

Silence means loneliness, and Adam, unable to tolerate either, as soon as the machine grows quiet, allowing that dreadful interval of quietude to settle in and the pungent aroma of coffee to reach his nose, throws the coffee cup into the trash can and restarts the process. The cacophony of mechanical and liquid sounds makes the otherwise deathly silence at least somewhat bearable to endure, allowing Adam to test Sera’s patience with his absence for longer. 

The high-pitched string of single-tone beeps signals the completion of another order and diverts Adam's attention from his thoughts, but just as he turns to take the steaming cup and throw it away, he sees Sera's horrifying reflection in the sleek exterior.

"Fuck, Sera! You can’t sneak up on a guy like that!"

"Adam, you are testing my patience." As it echoes through the empty foyer, the seraph's mellow tone of voice is both authoritative and commanding, making her presence felt all the way to Adam's very bones. If you were to ask Adam, he would tell you that the calmness was even worse than if she were to scream at him. "I thought I told your lieutenant I wanted to see you immediately."

"Can’t a guy get a drink first? I had a long day—"

Sera, who is quite familiar with Adam's tendency to change the topic he is not particularly eager to discuss, cuts the angel's prattling short by going straight to the matter at hand. "What is a mortal doing in Heaven?"

"Wow, straight to the point, huh? Well, you all are always on my ass about my way of life, so I decided to change that!"

"You married that mortal." Sera grits through her teeth. She foolishly clung to the hope that perhaps Adam had only brought you here as another rendezvous of his, but marriage, especially if it was officiated by an archangel, was a huge deal.

Adam has the nerve to act surprised. "Oh, so Daniel already ratted me out?"

"No, you did that yourself, but now I will be having a word with archangel Daniel as well for officiating this sacrilegious excuse of matrimony, which, may I add, makes it impossible to send the mortal back! Jaw-dropping, truly. Every single time, Adam, you manage to surprise me with your actions. How did you even get a hold of her?"

"Oh, that's actually a funny story. You should have seen the stunt she pulled in Hell!"

"And that’s where you should have left her — in Hell! Be their problem, not ours!" Sera momentarily raises her voice an octave higher before catching herself and attempting to calm down. She takes a deep breath and exhales, brushing her hair back away from her face while doing so. "Why did she even agree to this?"

Confident to a fault, but having every reason to believe his words, Adam puffs his chest out and points his thumb at himself. "Who can say no to this? Every woman out there wants a piece of the original dick! I just need to pick one of many."

"And you, naturally, go and pick something forbidden." At that moment, it seemed like a reasonable statement to make in an attempt to silence the first man, but that didn't make it less cruel. In front of Sera’s many eyes — visible and not — Adam’s expressive LED mask effortlessly twists his glowing features into a look of pain, although only for a fleeting moment. As soon as Adam gets ahold of his unspoken feelings, Sera concludes their conversation, her tone staying resolute. "Usually wisdom comes with age, but I see that there are instances where age comes alone. I expect you to deal with this problem you created for yourself appropriately. If you keep her under control, I won't interfere. If you are unable to do so, I will. Just like I did with Eve."

And just like that, Adam is left alone, but this time, he is able to stay in that spot for as long as he wants to.

Glancing at the waiting cup of coffee, still steaming away on the drip tray, Adam chucks it into the trash and is about to snap himself to his destination when his gaze gets stuck on his hand. With a defeated sigh, he turns around and strides towards the left wing of the enormous building where all the archangels reside.

Raphael is the last archangel Adam wants to see — ever — usually avoiding the heavenly being as much as he possibly can, which isn’t that hard when the first man is an immortal being who can’t get hurt. But keeping your bleeding wound at the forefront of his mind, Adam has no choice but to seek out the angel of healing of his own volition.

Adam doesn't knock, pushing the door the same way one rips off a band-aid. But instead of experiencing temporary discomfort, he is met with a slender, pale-faced figure.

The eyes, which usually symbolise these celestial beings' all-seeing and omnipresent nature, are tightly wrapped in a white cloth, but a lack of sight doesn't make Raphael's all-pervasive perception any less so. With such a statement, he blatantly showed that he doesn’t need sight to see through others.

Raphael's pride is just another thing he has in common with his fallen brother, apart from their near-identical appearances.

"Adam."

"You already know why I'm here."

Raphael puts his quill down and tilts his head at Adam. "Yes, Sera can be very loud when she wants to. So you really are here because of the mortal? Finally decided to seek my help?"

"She got burned by hellfire. I need something for the wound."

"I was talking about you."

"I’m not hurt."

"That’s what you seem to be desperately trying to convince me of, or are you trying to convince yourself?"

Raphael’s words are met with petulant silence.

The archangel rests his chin in his palm, lazily drawing the silhouette of a bottle in the air with his finger, while Adam watches how an invisible scribble turns into a tangible object before his eyes. Having grabbed Adam's attention, Raphael uses the opportunity wisely. "Not all wounds are physical, and not all of them can be remedied with divine healing. If you want to open your heart to someone again, first you have to mend it together. It has been bleeding for decades, but love heals. Self-love is also love, Adam. You can’t love someone without loving yourself first." The bottle of dark glass grows heavy and starts to drop down, falling into Raphael’s waiting palm. "The burn of hellfire will be the least of her worries if you don’t take into account what I said, Adam."

Snatching the flask of holy water away from the archangel's grasp, Adam teleports instantly back to his apartment. He planned to fly back, but he couldn’t spend a second longer in the same vicinity as Raphael.

If Adam pretended that nothing happened today, it just might seem that way at first glance. All of the furniture is still in its place, and the dust on it is left undisturbed, yet the man can’t help but notice little details like the coffee table being a bit turned to the side while the room feels warmer somehow — more lively and not as empty. Or was it Adam’s subconscious not allowing him to entertain a thought of you not being in his life?

His legs instinctively lead him toward the bedroom, where a small crack in the door allows him to catch a glimpse of the inside without fully stepping into the room.

The moonlight spilling in through the open windows illuminates the minimalistic space. Its rays are softer than the sun's — not as harsh on the eyes — and bathe your feminine features in cool watercolour shades, making you and your existence feel more and more like a dream than reality to the silent observer that is Adam. Adam doesn't even notice when he steps inside, discarding his mask near the bed and sitting on its edge, your sleeping self right behind him.

In the huge bed, you look so tiny and vulnerable — the bedding looks like puffy clouds swallowing you up in dreamy white. But even in deep sleep, you don’t look at peace.

"Mngh…"

Your breathing is laborious as you toss and turn, so Adam thoughtfully glides his index finger along the curve of your body, sliding the long digit under the tightly wrapped strips of fabric and softly tugging on them to loosen up the dress. Almost instantaneously, your lungs take a greedy gulp of air once the pressure on your chest elevates, so fragile and alive…

Adam's hand goes to hover above your face, not yet daring to touch your pinkened cheeks. Instead, he starts small, carefully bringing his leathery fingers down towards soft, warm skin and brushing away a few hair strands that are obstructing his view. But that is when you unconsciously turn your head and nuzzle your cheek into his hand. Adam holds his breath as he watches you closely. Your lips look as mildly intoxicating as the wine you drank, seducing Adam into pressing his own to get a taste. Staring at you in such a way almost feels gluttonous, as if savouring you without your knowledge or consent is one of the sins God warned humanity about, an ever-tantalising morsel…

But just as Adam lowers his face to be merely a hair's breadth away, a feeling of doubt crosses his mind.

Did you drink the wine so that it would be easier to face him? And instead of kissing your lips, he ends up planting a lingering kiss beneath them — on your chin.

Adam's hand, which supports his weight and lays flat beside your head, grips the sheet in anger at himself. He hates himself for his childish dreams of wanting to be loved in this lifetime, for yearning to have someone breathe life into his mundane days, and for wishing for someone who would occupy his self-loathing mind with meaningless conversations.

"Mmm… Marcel…"

He loosens his grip on the sheet and sits up.

"And you, naturally, go and pick something forbidden." Sera's words echo inside Adam's head as if his own inner voice isn't taking enough space in it as it is.

Adam knew a thing or two about forbidden things. He understood how perilous they were and what misery they could bring him if he indulged in them, but there was also the indescribable sweetness that almost made it all better.

He takes your burnt hand into his own — your human skin sharply contrasting with the inky black of his palm — and covers the weeping wound in holy water. With his thumb, he gently moves the liquid back and forth until it all disappears, washing away the blood and pain while only leaving a scar. Hellfire was no joke.

After giving you one last look, Adam gets up from his seat and retreats back to his spot on the couch.

He indulged himself enough for one day.

» » »

It takes you a while to blink your sore eyes open — the room you are in is just too bright.

You toss and turn, pulling the sheets closer to you with involuntary movements. Slightly disoriented, you finally open your eyes, and as your brain connects the dots, the sleepy bliss disappears. You can feel your stomach drop at the realisation that all of it was not a nightmarish hallucination. The room is Adam’s bedroom, as in the first fucking man from the Bible, and you are in Heaven — a place, not a state of bliss.

"God, I’m so fucked." You groan while palming at your eyes. It takes you a few deep breaths in and out to calm yourself down, but once you do and roll to lie on your back, another problem makes itself known.

The wedding dress that had been so tightly wrapped around you yesterday is now just a pile of loose pieces of silk hastily draped over your body, leaving too much skin exposed to the chilly morning air and to anyone’s eyes if they decided to walk in the room. Most importantly, you had your new husband to watch out for, and as that realisation dawns on you, you sit up in the bed while hugging yourself, desperately searching around for something to use as a shield from his perverted gaze. Luckily, it doesn't take you long to spot a neatly folded fabric at the foot of the bed.

Scooting closer, you reach for the garment and unfold it to get a better look. The fabric is so silky smooth that it slides between your fingers like quicksilver. It is cold to the touch, but you have little choice; the other one is to walk naked, so putting on the new dress it is.

You glance at the door before standing up. With the remnants of your previous dress pooled around your legs, you pull the new one over your head. An involuntary shiver shakes your body, but with the help of your body heat, the fabric quickly warms up. If only everything could get better so swiftly. 

The dress is more comfortable, less tight, and has long bell sleeves that leave only the tips of your fingers visible. Still no underwear, but beggars can't be choosers.

All dressed up, you plop back onto the bed, your hands fidgeting in your lap. Deep inside you, a conflict rages between your stubbornness and insatiable curiosity. The wine hangover helps the latter prevail, so you warily walk out of the room.

With your heart pounding, you trail your palm across the walls for support, listening for any noise and searching your mind for the appropriate words. How does one start a conversation in this kind of situation? 

As you reach the corner behind which the living room resides, you stand up straighter, take a deep breath, and step forward with way more confidence than you feel at the moment.

Only to find the space empty. All that pep talk, only for Adam to be nowhere to be seen. Did he even come back home yesterday?

But instead of relief at the angel's absence, a cold, freezing feeling of dread washes over you, to the point it makes your skin prickle. Sure, you would prefer going back to your old life with no Adam in sight, but if you can’t, you are ready to accept your new normal. This is why, without Adam around, you feel the loneliness and emptiness that you felt when you got the news of Marcel’s passing. 

Adam can't die like Marcel did, so his absence is intentional. 

Brushing your hair away from your face, you turn your back towards the living room and face the darkness of the corridor with new resolve. You will do your best to make the most of this situation and use your husband’s absence to look for a way to bring your dead boyfriend back from Hell.

There is one more door further down that was left unexplored yesterday — the one you push open, allowing the morning sun to kiss you all over your face. It warms you up like a mother’s hug, and you feel a bit better until you see what type of room it is.

Jackpot.

The cosy home study houses two big bookcases and a desk area with a sizeable amount of drawers, which means ample space for storing something that could be useful to your cause.

The cosy home study houses two big bookcases and a desk area with a sizeable amount of drawers, which means ample space for storing something that could be useful to your cause. Given your affinity for reading, you naturally begin by scanning the leathery spines on the bookshelves.

Gold decorative elements on the spines give off a sense of elegance and luxury, but they emit any lettering that would hint at or spell out a title. When you hook your finger and drag one out of the row, it's a blind guess.

The book has some weight to it, which only adds to the impression of its value in all aspects, but as you open it, it lacks the one thing that is most precious to you. The high-quality paper is pleasant to the touch yet is worthless without any ink staining it. 

You flip through the rest of the book, but all pages are like that — empty.

All the same, you painstakingly go through every book. You pick each one with the same exact care as the one before it, skimming through pages on the off chance that one of them will contain something, and after sifting through three shelves worth of books, you would choose any language over blank pages. But as you close the last one and put it on top of a pile, the reality sets in.

You believed that nothing could be more disheartening than finding yourself stranded far from home in a loveless marriage. That is, until now, as you sit on the ground, surrounded by nothing but empty leather shells and an emptier mind. 

You stand up and begin putting everything back, and as you reach the last volume, you hug it close to your chest, refusing to accept defeat. Maybe I need some kind of looking glass to be able to read? This is Heaven after all, and naturally, a human couldn’t simply access something that might be deemed sensitive information.

With that, you turn toward the desk.

Come on, Mr. 'I’m so important' should have something useful in his freaking house.

The desk has paperwork in the drawers, but they look like basic forms that probably should have been filled out and signed.

I’m starting to think that either his importance is inflated or he actually doesn’t do anything.

You want to stay confident, but the revelation hits you in the gut. Despair, headache, and hunger unite their forces, and you slump into the armchair by the desk — defeated. It’s difficult to stay optimistic when everything seems to be working against you.

Having nothing else to do, you pick yourself up and give the room one last glance before stepping out and closing the door behind you.

And then your bad mood is only made worse by the unsurprisingly empty kitchen.

You swallow down the taste of nausea at the back of your tongue and turn to face the rest of the living space while leaning your back against the kitchen counter. As you gaze around, you chew at your bottom lip, debating if it’s time for self-cannibalism.

The coffee table is empty of any trash, so Adam must have come back for at least a second. Now the important question is what he did while he was home if he didn’t leave anything for his very alive wife.

Your eyes move to the side of the main area, where you maintain eye contact with another living thing in the apartment — the potted plants. Walking closer towards them, you sink your middle and index fingers into the pot, touching the soil to find it freshly watered.

So, he had half a mind to take care of the plants, but not you? Noted.

Hunger turns into anger as you storm towards the wine cellar to pick up a fresh bottle of poison.

You wonder if this is his tactic to make you succumb to him. Does he think that if he isolates you for a long enough period of time, you would jump in joy to see him, simply because you would crave that human connection? If so, he underestimates you greatly.

You will jump him alright, with a knife at hand.

You get comfortable on the couch, snuggling into the soft blankets. They smell like him, but the scent is surprisingly pleasant, so you don't mind it too much as you nurse a bottle of red wine and patiently wait.

Contrary to popular belief, you weren’t a confrontational person. You wished nothing less than to go back to the bedroom, mind your business, and wait till the next day for Adam to leave. Rinse and repeat. But no, you couldn’t afford that now. Now knowing that there is nothing of value to be found in the house pertaining to your plans, you have no choice but to be confrontational.

When you notice the first signs of the evening in the room, you put the half-empty bottle on the coffee table and begin slowly flipping through the empty pages of the book that you snatched from the decoy study. It's a poor attempt to make yourself get lost in thought, and it gives your fidgeting fingers something to do — not to mention it is more interesting than looking at a plain corner. 

You wonder what time it is in Hell, and where Marcel is right now. Is he lying in bed just like you, thinking of you the way you are thinking of him? You know that he is, and that's what keeps you company. The knowledge that wherever he is now, he is with you in thoughts and memories — happy and sad ones. You now cherish every single one.

And that’s when the front door finally opens.

"Oh, you’re still awake?"

Adam is noticeably a bit surprised to find you sitting comfortably on the couch with a new wine bottle opened and standing tall on the coffee table. There’s a glass beside it, half full.

You glance up from the decoy book. "You hoped I wasn’t, huh?"

"Huh?" He dares to act confused.

"What’s your long-term goal? What’s the gain? You just tore me away from everything I once knew, only to leave me all on my own to navigate the land of the dead!" The sound that is created by you loudly closing the book acts like the exclamation mark to your abridged list of grievances, and when you — not so gently — throw it on the coffee table, it reopens and displays the nothingness you have been looking at this whole time. It's a silent testament — one of many — to just how much effort Adam put into caring for you. So much, in fact, that he couldn't even provide you with something to occupy your time. But that is the least of his offences.

He finally closes the door behind him.

"You bitches are so fucking emotional, fuck. Can’t even step properly inside."

Silence.

You are now looking at Adam through your furrowed eyebrows, chewing on the skin of your lips in deep thought. Thank God you threw the book before he spoke; he can practically see the murder plans brewing inside your pretty little head. 

And then you smile, falling back onto the couch and rolling around like it is the most comfortable thing in the entire world — it isn't, which is why your words sound even more condescending.

"That’s a lovely couch you have there. Is that why you sleep on it instead of the bed?"

"...what?"

"Why don't you sleep in your bed?"

"I— uh, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I may be a dick—"

"No," you shake your head, leaning back against the backrest with your arms crossed. "You didn’t sleep there before me either."

"Pff, and you would know?"

"Why?" You ignore his fake display of cockiness.

"Why what—"

"You know damn well what I’m getting at. Don't act stupid, and do yourself a favour by not openly showing that you are not the brightest star in the sky. What’s wrong with the bed?" You would guess that the mask adorning his face serves a specific purpose. Without a doubt, it serves as an accessory on the battlefield, but its constant use leads you to believe that the man in front of you likes to hide his true feelings behind it. Too bad that his mask is just as expressive as the skin he hides underneath it. "It’s not a weakness to admit pain, you know? Talk to me." Give me something to work with...

"Listen, babe, I think this role of a ‘wife’ is getting into your head, as does the holy wine. I think you had enough of that, don’t you?"

He takes the bottle away from you before you can snatch it.

"Maybe leave me with food next time if you don’t want me drinking! How else am I supposed to sustain myself?!"

"Definitely not with liquid, and for your information, holy wine sustains the soul, not your mortal body, dumbass."

"Keyword — mortal! You want me to die?!"

As you scream at one another with such a hefty distance between you two, the situation kind of seems hilarious, if it wasn’t so fucked up.

"Sorry, I didn’t know that I couldn’t leave you by yourself for five fucking minutes as if you were a child! You know you’re free to roam around, little dove? The cage," he turns around and reopens the front door for effect. "Is unlocked."

"As if I will venture to a place that I know nothing about!"

"That didn’t stop you from going to the fucking Hell! Heaven is where you draw the line?! It’s the safest place there is, for fuck sake!"

In your fury-addled state of mind, you stand up on the couch, your bare feet sinking into the plush cushions.

"Maybe the sound doesn’t travel up to that height or you are just as empty as the books in your study, but all the same, let me rephrase my words. Ever think that it would be just as scary as a human to be around angels as it would be surrounded by demons?"

It turns out that wanting compassion out of the first man is useless.

"If only I knew beforehand that you would nag so much."

And for someone as primordial as the Earth itself, Adam comes across as very callow.

"You call me wanting to understand my husband more nagging? Or is it the part where I ask for basic human necessities?!"

It takes him exactly three steps to stand face to face with you. Your breath is visible on his mask.

"Oh, you want to do your wifely duties so badly?" He coo’s at you patronisingly, his voice so flat it makes you shiver in fear. "How about we start with consummating our marriage, hm?"

The words reach the desired reaction as Adam watches your face grow noticeably pale.

"Nothing to say? Can I speak now, or are you going to scream some more?"

You swallow the lump in your throat, tasting defeat. Once again, you lose the shiny spark of hope in your eyes, and Adam swears that the room grows darker just like the colour of your iris.

"I never thought I would have to fight for a marriage I didn’t even want. Why marry me if you have no need nor time for another person? If I wasn’t in a new environment and actually knew someone else who wasn’t you, believe me, I wouldn’t be begging for your company. You are not the prize you think you are. I’m a fish you plucked out of water and threw in a glass with water because, according to you, that’s everything a fish needs — something to breathe."

Adam doesn't stop you from climbing off the couch, nor does he run after you as you slink towards the bedroom.

After gently closing the door, you press yourself against it and slide down until the dress pools around you. You hide your face in your knees and let out a shaky breath. This is your life now: living in a place that will never be your home, surrounded by creatures who will never understand you. Even if these souls once were humans, they have long forgotten what it feels like — Adam is a wonderful example of that.

You don't know if you slept that night. You only know that your eyes were already open when the first rays of the morning sun started spilling into the bedroom. Everything is foggy in your mind as nightmares mix up with reality, until the line becomes so blurred that you don't know where one ends and where the other begins. 

After stupidly wasting too much time pressed against the door, you finally exit the bedroom when, to your relief and irritation, Adam is nowhere to be heard again. You don’t want to see his face after yesterday, but his absence also means that he didn’t care about anything you said to him — or about you, for that matter.

As you make your way through the empty apartment, the presence of the study behind you is almost palpable — mocking you behind your back for naively believing it would be of any use to you. However, you won't let a small disappointment deter you from seeking a way out of here.

Sure, being able to find everything you need in one place that you have complete access to would be ideal, but life is never this easy, and the afterlife, being an extension of it, is no different. Nonetheless, you already are planning what your next course of action is going to be, and for it to work out, all you need is to find out where Adam works and think of a diversion so he doesn't question you too much. Of course, on top of everything, having bravery would be an advantage, but it's not a requirement.

And just like the sun comes out after every storm, something in your peripheral vision catches your attention, leading to a growling stomach and a spark of sudden inspiration.

Surprisingly, Adam took into consideration your mortality and left you with a plethora of ingredients — killing two birds with one stone by providing you with something to eat and entertainment in the form of cooking. This is also the moment when you decide what you will use as a diversion in your plan.

Maybe you could slowly make Adam trust you over time, or, even better, somehow infiltrate the circle he’s frequenting until you get the useful information. But you are not known for being patient — determined and stubborn is a more correct description. And as you shove a freshly baked muffin into your mouth while putting the rest into one of the containers you've found, you hype yourself to finally leave the comfort of the apartment, despite your stomach churning with anxiety.

He wants you to venture outside on your own? You will… you will…

And you do.

Until now, you didn't have a chance to truly observe Heaven, but one thing is for certain — you look terribly out of place here.

It’s a very surreal experience, as though you've journeyed into the distant future. Perhaps it's because of all the Renaissance paintings you familiarised yourself with during your frequent visits to local museums and art galleries, but you truly believed that Heaven would have more fields filled with freely roaming animals rather than the anthropomorphic ones who are actually not so subtly staring at you as you pass them by.

Their reactions to you kind of explain the reason behind Adam's hideous mask. He did feel quite human looking underneath it, and judging by the looks you're getting, that's not a very common appearance around here.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where I could find the first man?" You turn and direct your question at the first unfortunate winner you encounter, who appears to resemble a lamb. She even bleats like one, noticeably frightened by your presence and straightforwardness.

However, she is in heaven for a reason. The beautiful angel, unable to turn away a person in need, with a soft, high-pitched voice accompanying her hoof points towards one of the glass buildings and says, "You should find him there."

No maybes are muttered, only an assured statement as her white face blushes golden.

"Thank you."

But you don't care for nuances. Ultimately, you are simply content that you now know for certain where to look for Adam — inside of a particularly tall glass building outside which you now stand.

When you push the door open, its surface fogs up from your warm touch, leaving noticeable fingerprints behind. You tug on the sleeve of your dress and attempt to clean the smudging off, but it seems to only make the mess bigger and, in turn, more visible. Your skin prickles with hot embarrassment as you almost drop the box with your baked goods while trying to fix up the mess.

"Oh, sweetheart, where did your halo go?"

Startled, you jump a bit, causing the door to slam shut with a glass-rattling bang. Seeing no one at your eye level, you glance down to look at a small animal-like creature near your feet. The small sheep angel looks like what grape candy tastes like, dressed in various shades of periwinkle from head to hoof.

Before you can answer him, another voice cuts into the conversation.

"Obviously she’s human, Collin!"

You turn your head to see who the second voice belongs to and notice another tiny guy, but this one looks like a chubby human baby and a more familiar version of the small angels you have seen being depicted in paintings before. These small creatures are cherubim.

"H-human? In Heaven?!" The sheep cherub is soft-spoken, his voice remaining on the lower side even as he shouts.

"If I may ask," you clear your throat to catch the attention of the little cherubims. "Where could I find, um, Adam?"

But they just take the information you have given them and ignore your question entirely.

"It's not surprising that the first man allowed a human to roam freely around Heaven." The more human-looking cherub puffs out his tummy and huffs while crossing his tiny hands in front of his chest. 

"Cletus! You shouldn’t speak that way!"

That's when you feel someone tug on your free hand, the one with your wedding ring on.

"So the rumours are true…" the baby cherub whispers underneath his little button nose while the timid sheep jumps into action and finally gives you what you wanted.

"He’s currently at a meeting but should be back soon! You can wait in his office! It’s— actually let me write it down for you!"

With the directions written down in great detail, it doesn't take you long to reach your destination. You give a knock first, in the off chance that Adam got back, and you would have to execute your original plan. You don’t want to — it’s easier if he’s not there — but you will do anything for this to succeed.

The door is unsurprisingly unlocked, and when you step inside and look around, it all suddenly clicks to you. No wonder Adam doesn’t come home.

Adam's workspace looks like what one might expect a person's home to look like. It’s cosy and warm, filled to the brim with character, as each element conveys a deeper meaning without the need for Adam's voice. Now you know where he keeps his guitars or where he writes his music. And the furniture — now you notice that you haven’t seen any wooden furnishings anywhere else apart from Adam’s home and now his office. Everything else around Heaven is cold to the touch and glassy. You can't help but wonder if he builds everything himself. 

You finally snap out when the door, no longer being held by you, snaps close shut with a loud bang.

Right, you should probably get going.

However, there are even fewer things to be found here. It's all the same unfinished paperwork you have seen back in his home study, but this time there's not even a decorative bookcase filled with empty books to at least create an illusion.

You halt in your step when you hear footsteps and the sound of Adam’s voice nearby.

When the doors open, you are like a deer caught in headlights. You find yourself standing in the middle of the office, with no time or opportunity to hide. You guess there is no other choice for you but to go along with the original plan.

Another angel accompanies Adam; she resembles Lute in her attire, yet her complexion is darker and her hair is longer, with curls cascading down to her chest. She is standing flush with the taller angel as if attempting to squeeze through the narrow doorway at the same time as Adam. But although he is guiding her away from him, he’s doing so with softness and a light-hearted laugh while the smaller angel seems to drink up the affection with glowing cheeks.

You know you shouldn’t feel the way you do, but you can’t help but feel your heart squeezing up at the sight. And just as you consider ducking to hide under Adam's desk, he suddenly looks in your direction, and his face falls.

"Oh! Hello?" The female angel looks you up and down, craning her head a little bit to the side. "You must be one of the girls from the temples, right? I can’t believe the outdated dresses they make you wear there."

Somehow that stung, even though you didn’t choose your clothing yourself. You started getting used to them, this particular dress being quite comfortable and pretty in its own way, but now you just felt even more like a fool. It didn’t help that you already felt self-conscious — being a human and not an angel. In their eyes, dying could turn you into a sinner, implying that you didn't belong here. But also being branded as old-fashioned for your clothing was definitely a final nail in your imaginary coffin. 

Was Adam thinking the same way? Sure, he married you, but perhaps the Hell’s lighting played tricks on him, and now he realises after the fact just how unattracted he is to you. In the Archangel’s office, it was dark too. It would only make sense—

Wow, your self-esteem got really hit. That is the only explanation why you would care what he thinks.

You don’t say anything to her, just raise your hand so your palm is hovering above your head and move it back and forth to show the lack of a halo. This finally catches her attention, and with wide eyes and a meek apology, she leaves you and Adam alone in the room.

"How did you get in here?"

Adam doesn't sound frustrated with you, so that’s a relief. You swallow down any unsavoury words you might be tempted to say and grab a box of muffins from his desk.

"I took up your offer and went for a walk, also thought I would bring you this," you present him with the baked goods. "Think of it as a peace treaty."

He still looks sceptical, so you bite your inner cheek, put the box back on the wooden surface, and move toward Adam with slow steps.

"I’m really sorry for how I acted last night." There is only a small gap between you two as you, without looking away from his masked face, drop to your knees and sit down so that your butt rests on the heels of your feet. "What do you say, let's start over?"

Afraid he would start thinking too much when you want him to not do that, you don't wait for his answer and bring your hands to grasp both of his clothed thighs. You gather the fabric of his robe in your fists, pulling the garment up — all the while maintaining eye contact.

You feel Adam's fingers wrap around one of your wrists, which motivates you to now undo his belt. However, before you can do anything, Adam effortlessly pulls you up.

"You think I’m that dumb, wifey?" He tugs you by your arm until you are leaning against his stomach. "Save the last bit of your dignity and go home. You want me to believe, after the blowout of yesterday’s night, that suddenly you’re so head over heels for me while shaking like a leaf? Please."

But that’s what finally does it for you.

You free your wrist from his grasp and make your way towards the door without saying another word. You don't give a damn about where you're going or where you should go. At this moment, all you want is to reach the end of Heaven and jump off it. You didn't want to see Adam or the judgemental glances of angels and winners as you passed them by.

But just as you are about to reach for a handle, Adam — not wanting this to happen in a place that everyone can see — opens a portal where the door is, and that makes you fall through it straight onto the couch in the living room of your shared apartment.

"Are you really that upset about me not wanting to take advantage of you?" Adam yells as he steps through the portal himself.

"You are quite comfortable taking everything else from me, so I don’t see the problem with that, but no, for your information, that is the least I’m upset about." You sneer back at him. "Did my presence in Hell truly offend you this much that you decided to curse me for a life of misery?"

"Life of misery? Is that what you call a marriage you consented to?!" Adam instantly regrets his outburst. It was always so easy to cast the blame away from himself. Usually, he wasn't at fault, but your solemn face tells a different story. He made a huge mistake.

"I did, huh." With that, you push yourself up from the couch and turn to leave.

That’s when Adam grows desperate, scrambling to get you closer. He quickly gets back into your line of sight in an attempt to grab your hand.

"What do you want me to say?! That I didn’t think it through when I married you?? Bitches fall on their knees for me! They love me! What makes you so different? For your information, I take wedding wows extremely seriously, and I’m not some kind of monster to touch you when you don’t want me to. I–I didn’t want to come onto you and make you uncomfortable." Adam can't even bear to look you into your eyes. "I wanted your loyalty, that unrelenting devotion for myself. I didn’t think it through. I thought, at that moment, that I could take it, but it was never mine to take. But here you are, bending over backwards, trying to prove something! Is he really worth all of this? Do you think you are so brave for doing something like this? Sacrificing yourself for nothing?"

"For nothing?! I'm doing this for love! Love IS a sacrifice, and I sacrificed being with Marcel because I love him enough to give my life and future for him when I don’t even know if he’s alive. That’s how much I love him." You scream at Adam as if your loud voice would finally get through him, but he doesn't even look in your direction. He leaves you to stare at your own reflection in his dark, shiny cheek. "Everyone deserves love, but you devoid yourself of it on your own. I accepted my fate! I really wanted to know you more, see from your perspective, and what did I get in return?! You treated me like a joke!"

"I don’t want this to just be bearable for you! I don’t want to see you because I can’t bear looking at someone who is just okay to be here!"

"What’s even the point of wearing that mask if you can’t even look me in the eyes while saying that I’m just a mistake you made?"

"I know that you hate me. It would be so unbelievably stupid of you if you didn't, and that’s why it’s easier if you direct all of your hate towards this," he points to his masked face. "Than the real thing."

You two stand so close to one another — too close — but neither of you moves away for a while. Adam can hear your breathing, but that's it. 

And that's when one of you makes a move — you walk around him. Adam tries to grab you again, but you yank your arm away.

"At least hate me like you did before. I need you to feel some type of way, anything but indifferent… please. Scream and shout, but don’t stay silent."

He hates the silence.

You stop, but don't turn around to face him.

"All I can do is pity you. You are your worst enemy, Adam."

Back in the bedroom, you tear the dress off your body and fall onto the bed. You curl in on yourself and burry your face into the fluffy sheets, soaking them in your fury-fuelled tears while screaming all of the frustration away. Your head is a mess, and your heart is too.

Helpless — you feel so helpless.

[neuroprincess]

Bunny Ears and Chocolate - Ava Coleman/Female Reader

Ava Coleman/Female Reader

Summary: When another celebration arrives, you think it's going to be one more blank day, but an unexpected gift and a wonderful girlfriend prove otherwise.

Classification: Slight angst, Fluff

Warnings: Reference to a reader's unhappy childhood, Ava being a romantic baby

Note: I should have posted this at Easter, but you know me, I just found it in my archived writings

Word count: +2200

Unrevised

Growing up in a home that was considered unstructured and not at all affectionate deprived you of many moments that other children had throughout their lives: the tooth fairy didn't even bother to leave 5 cents for each tooth that fell out, Christmas didn't have the same sparkle as the TV commercials and Thanksgiving was always summed up in canned food, maybe a fight between your parents in the kitchen at the end of the night. It was no different with Easter, every now and then you'd get a cheap bar of chocolate at school or from some kind neighbor, you didn't even take part in a neighbourhood egg hunt. The whole process was a gray area between so many celebrations, weekends and holidays spent watching movie marathons with lots of popcorn and a pinch of loneliness by choice. 

It was like that for years, until you met Ava, who never cared about any of this before and you thought it might be a good match when you started dating. However, she had this, her parents were affectionate and gave the best moments that continue to be remembered fondly when each of these dates arrives. You like to hear her describe every toy she got from some distant relative and later exchanged for something more interesting with classmates, the weird casseroles grandma invented for dinner or when she bought the first make-up with the money the fairy, aka her mom, left under the pillow. Between laughs and jokes, she always looks forward to hearing your stories and can't hide disappointment when the subject is suddenly changed, teasing you a little, but giving up so as not to make you uncomfortable. Deep down, you start to care and feel envious of all the lost moments, all the things you can't have, the invisible, dormant childish wounds festering. Wounds set aside, especially when it comes to your work as a teacher at Abbott.

"Miss Y/L/N, how do we know if the butterfly is male or female?" one of the students asks, leaning over the table to get a better look inside the transparent box.

"Don't be silly, Kayla!" another replies, rolling his eyes, and does the same "They're all female."

"Actually, not all of them are female, dear." you stand between them and point to the insect that's emerging from its cocoon, weeks before you found a caterpillar in Barb's flower beds and it collected itself in the cocoon, which coincidentally ended up hatching on the last day of school before holiday "That's a monarch butterfly, if there are dark spots on the hind wings it's a male and if not it's a female."

"But it hasn't opened the wings yet." Kayla observes sadly, for a child minutes can seem like a real eternity "It's taking too long..."

"That's just it, hatching can take from 10 minutes to 60 minutes, each one has their own time."

"Just like the rest of us," she adds with a hearty smile.

"You all see how incredible metamorphosis can be?!"

A little animated chatter starts up as your class waits anxiously to watch it fully emerge from cocoon, most of them debating which names to choose and how they would take care of it, forgetting the little agreement they had made, you decided to let them enjoy the moment before scrapping the hopeful children's plans.

"I don't see any spots!" Carson shouts excitedly "We've got a girl!"

After a while, they agree on a name and end up naming her Lizzy - cute, short and pretty. In third period, your kids gather to release her into the playground, and you take advantage of the moment to explain the relationship between butterflies and Easter and all the meaning behind the beautiful transformation. 

"Miss Y/L/N..." Kayla calls out to you shyly as everyone gets ready for break, most of them already running, the girl puts her hands behind back and blushes approaching the table "I saved this one for you."

She holds up an Easter egg wrapped in fluffy colored paper, a bow adorning it and making the package more attractive. The girl stares at you with her eyes shining in anticipation as you fight back imminent tears, not something you expected to happen when you woke up in the morning. It's your first chocolate Easter egg in all your years of life, a small, innocent gesture from a schoolchild that makes the entire wall built up around commemorative dates and traditions crumble in seconds.

"Thank you so much, dear..." you accept the treat with a little uncertainty, hands trembling as you hold the candy "I..."

"I knew you'd like it, it's very good, I promise." she says cheerfully and leaves the classroom, as if she hadn't just made a grand gesture.

As soon as the girl leaves, the principal comes through the doorway with her usual cheeky grin and full of curiosity about your reaction, asking herself what she could have done to you, none of which comes close to the real thing. Her presence is barely noticed, not even when she closes the door after the room has emptied, your eyes fixed on the adorable wrapping, the colorful patterns and the generic but cute note wishing Happy Easter.

"Kitten..." she calls for the third time, worried "Is everything all right?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was over the moon." you try to pull yourself together, compressing lips and bringing fingers to the corners of eyes, wiping your face "Hungry?"

"Just of you." Ava whispers seductively and takes two steps forward, standing inches away to steal a quick kiss "Now tell me what happened or I'll tickle the hell out of you." it's the kind of affectionate threat that doesn't make you laugh this time, it's a difficult topic to talk about, but maybe that's the time.

"Well, there's a reason I never tell holiday stories or have great comments for yours, I..." tears are there again, stronger and warmer, you take the candy to heart in search of comfort, the woman keeps quiet listening attentively "I never had any of that, my parents never gave a damn and I wasn't a demanding child."

"That?"

"Coins from the tooth fairy, nice dinners, Christmas trees, gifts and..." the Easter egg is raised with a certain pride, finally giving in to crying, tears of sadness and happiness mixing together "This! It's my first!" you finally admits, feeling a little childish at the thrill and excitement of something so small for an adult.

"Your first?" she is genuinely confused, staring at the simple candy, which for her has no great significance, then the realization of the fact hits her hard "Really?"

"Yes, one of my students just gave it to me." you whisper, feeling the tears wanting to come back again and a tight feeling in chest "I know, it's silly..."

"No, it's not, it's never silly, especially if it's something important to you." the woman responds quickly, wrapping arms around your trembling body and puts your head against her soft breasts, it's an intimate and comforting act "And if I'd known before, I'd have been the first person to give you a chocolate. And decorated the house last Christmas. Or better, I would have taken you to New York. I guess I just wouldn't have had a solution for the tooth fairy... but there are ideas on how to make up for it."

"God, you're the best girlfriend ever."

"Of course I am." Ava kisses your forehead and takes advantage of the position to slip her fingers under your shirt, lightly tickling the sensitive spots "So much so that I ordered tarts from that new store you mentioned last week."

She holds up the cardboard bag with the pretty logo and half a dozen tarts in various flavors. A delicious dessert for a pleasant shared lunch, which has become routine, a moment of peace to enjoy each other's presence in the busy and chaotic routine that is working in childhood education.

With a bag full of art supplies and a pile of exam papers in hand, you enter the apartment, struggling not to knock everything off the improvised jenga. Usually you would have the help of the tallest one, those long arms look so sexy carrying boxes full of children's books and covered in glitter, but after all that sugar and dough, she had to go home early with an stomach bug. Of course, in her pile there are one or two medicines and tea for her.

"Darling?" home is strangely dark, silent and there's no sign of your partner's vibrant personality "Ava? Are you feeling better?" you ask, starting to get worried, hurrying to turn on the light switches.

When the light turns on, you find yourself with one foot on what looks like a rabbit's footprint glued to the wood floor. Then another next to it, followed by another and another, the bags are abandoned at the entrance and the door closed. Step by step you reach the coat closet, where a chocolate bar is placed next to a card with the words "Our love is sweet as the place we started the day together... or as your coffee." handwritten in impeccable calligraphy. It makes you smile lovingly, she always jokes about the amount of cream you put in the liquid as you get ready for the morning, only to steal some of it with kisses. The fun mugs, perhaps one of the first things you bought when decided to move in together, hold truffles and the next tip. Seven cards later, almost every room explored and your arm full of candies, you finally reach the last place with the tip "No matter where we are, as long as we're together, we've found our home." and it's obvious that it's the master bedroom, where you love each other, talk about your days and plan the future, where you can strip away the burdens of everyday life and forget about the world.

"Do you like it, kitten?" the woman asks, coming up behind as soon as you open the door.

In the middle of the bed, there's a huge Easter basket of chocolates, from simple chocolate bars to decorated boxes of handmade truffles, with colorful wrapping and a giant bow, next to a big stuffed bunny, one of those fluffy ones that are too cute to resist hugging. A Happy Easter banner has been placed above the headboard and when turn around you let out a laugh when notice that the principal is wearing a fuzzy bunny ears, one up and the other down, a cute made-up nose.

"Welcome back, little baby!" she wraps her arms around waist and lifts you into the air, capturing your lips as she spins around.

"You... You did all this for me? Aw, that's so sweet and thoughtful."

"And all yours, I wanted to make your first official Easter something special." Ava puts you down and picks up a second bunny ear from the shelf, carefully placing it on your head "My cutie..."

"I'm literally speechless, all I can think about is how amazing you are."

"I know!" she jokes and leans in to give you another kiss "Sweetheart, you're a wonderful person and I'm sorry you didn't have any of these moments, but know that I'm going to make each of these dates unforgettable and unique, something of ours."

You stare at her in shock and feel your eyes sting, tears gathering at the edges of eyes, it's hard to control. This was the first surprise you've ever received in your life and certainly the best of all, every detail was thought of, planned and made especially for you, as well as the romantic touch she gave to every little and big gift.

"You don't have to do that..." you whisper, voice breaking with emotion, "I... You already do so much for me."

"I haven't even done half of what I want to do for you." your girlfriend smiles tenderly, her hand sliding gently across your cheek "You deserve the world and I'm going to do my best to give it to you."

"I don't even know how to thank you for everything." a feeling of being silly comes over you again, but it's quickly gone when you see the passionate smile on her plump lips "It's more than I could have dreamed of."

"You don't have to be thankful, baby, just enjoy it." she replies, lifting you onto her lap and standing face to face "Or enjoy it while you thank me."

Ava is funny and suggestive, walking slowly over to the bed, sitting there with you on her lap, surrounded by the candies and the cheerful decoration. She brings a hand up to yours, intertwining her fingers with yours. The comfortable silence is broken only by the soft sound of breathing and happy giggles.

"Shall we eat some chocolate and then watch a movie?" the woman asks, squeezing you a little tighter against her "We have the whole weekend to ourselves."

All you can do is nod, leaning in again to give her a kiss, this time slow and passionate, full of tenderness. She moans feeling your fingers tangle in the black strands, pulling her towards you and deepening the contact.

"I love you, baby." you whisper against her lips, knocking into the soft mattress.

"No more than I love you, kitten. You have no idea."

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