#speaking in ways that used to feel natural now. don’t feel natural ?
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valsverse · 3 days ago
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⠀(୨୧) 💭 ׄ ︵͡ EVERLONG | P. JACKSON
﹙🌊﹚ in which:𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈, 𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎.
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percy glances over his shoulder, his sneakers swinging loosely from his fingertips as he beckons you forward. sand clings to his calves, damp and sticky from the tide that brushed against his legs earlier. he’s barefoot, naturally.
“shoes are overrated,” he whispers to you, the grin on his face soft and crooked.
you pause, glancing down at your own sneakers, a small frown tugging at your lips. “you’re gonna regret that when you step on a shell.”
“nah,” he just grins wider, that boyish thing, sharp and crooked, and it makes you want to throw something at him. “i’ve got you to save me.” you bite back a smile, rolling your eyes, your footsteps quickening as you follow him toward the pier.
the two of you walk side by side, skirting the water’s edge, the rhythm of your steps in sync with his. then, a ripple in the water catches your eye, and you tug at his wrist, a little too hard, a little too frantic.
“percy,” you hiss, pulling at his wrist. “what if the naiads catch us?”
“they won’t,” he assures, though his voice dips quieter. “they like me. i think.”
you snort, nudging his arm and arching a brow, “do they?”
he doesn’t answer, just nudges your shoulder with his—casual, easy—and when you stumble just slightly, his fingers find yours without hesitation. he's not even looking at you—like it's nothing, like it's everything. it’s so natural, like he’s done it a thousand times before. your pulse flutters, but you don’t pull away.
the pier looms ahead, weathered wood creaking under your weight as you step onto it. you both settle at the edge, legs dangling above the dark water. percy places his sneakers beside him and leans back on his hands, his damp hair curling at the ends from his earlier dip in the lake.
“your hair’s a mess,” you say before you can stop yourself, the words spilling out too easily.
he tilts his head, giving you a look that’s half exasperation, half something softer. “it’s fine.”
“it’s not.” you’re already reaching over, brushing a stray curl away from his forehead.
he flinches, a soft sound escaping him—“what are you doing?”
“fixing it.”
“it’s fine,” he mutters again, but he's quieter now, shoulders stiffening as he glances away. his voice cracks on the last word, and you almost laugh, but you don’t.
your fingers move carefully, smoothing the damp strands back into place. he doesn’t flinch this time, doesn’t move away, and when you pull back, his gaze flickers to yours—uncertain, almost shy, like he’s waiting for something, or maybe just hoping.
“better,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.
he doesn’t answer right away. his gaze lingers on your face, steady, like he’s searching for something. and when he speaks again, his voice is nearly a murmur, the words like they weren’t meant for anyone but you.
“you think so?”
you nod, and your heart stutters—once, twice, a quiet thrum against your ribs. the night feels heavier now, like something’s shifting beneath the surface, something unsaid hanging in the air between you.
the air between you feels thicker, but not in a bad way. percy shifts closer, his knee bumping against yours by accident, and your breath catches as you pull away, your heart racing for reasons you can’t quite explain.
he glances at you, that small, soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but it’s different now—more knowing. he’s figured something out. maybe it’s not something either of you have said aloud, but he knows. and he knows that you know, too.
“you’re cold,” he says quietly, noticing the goosebumps on your arms and the chill in your skin.
“i know,” you reply, lips twitching into a small smile. “it’s not a big deal.”
without saying anything, percy takes your hand in his, the warmth of his skin seeping into your cold fingers. he blows a soft breath onto your palm, like he’s trying to warm you up, or maybe just hold on to the moment. his fingertips are a little sticky from the sugary condensation of the soda he was drinking earlier, but the action is endearing nonetheless.
his hands are rough and worn from years of harsh training, with a small callus between his middle and index finger. you notice the little things— like the tiny scar on his thumb, the worn and uneven edge of his nails. he looks at you, eyes soft and serious, like he’s still trying to figure out the mess of this moment, the mess of you.
you don’t break the silence.
then, as if to test the waters, his knee nudges yours again—this time on purpose. his touch is warm, solid, and you don’t move away. you don’t need to. not this time.
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©valsverse — do not steal, edit, or repost my works. plagiarism is prohibited.
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thesecondhandwoman · 1 day ago
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(SPOILERS FOR ACT THREE)
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HOLDING ON TO HER
Sevika x fem!reader
Summary: It had been a few days after the fight that commenced between Noxus and Viktor’s creations, and only a few days after everyone had experienced the Arcane. Sevika was still traumatized from the experience, and desperately needed comfort. Specifically your comfort.
Sevika could feel the weight of the world bearing down on her. The words she told herself every day, the ones she used to push through the chaos of life, weren’t working anymore. Her mind was a battlefield, a storm of memories that she couldn’t fight off—memories of that moment when the arcane had taken over, when she had lost control of her own body, and when she felt her very soul pulled in every direction by something greater than herself.
The recent battle had left scars on her mind, ones that she couldn’t shake no matter how much time passed. The way her limbs had moved of their own accord, the feeling of her body betraying her, as if she were nothing more than a vessel for something dark and otherworldly. It made her sick to her stomach. Her thoughts were constantly tangled with those memories. She couldn’t stop replaying the way the arcane had twisted her body, forced her to fight against her will, made her want to fight against her own nature. But it hadn’t just been the physical invasion. The worst part was the helplessness—the suffocating sensation of being trapped in her own skin, of not being able to escape the dark, searing touch that had commanded her every move.
And now, she was here. Alone in their shared apartment in Zaun, the light from the flickering street lamps casting long shadows across the room. The smell of iron, old grease, and gunpowder that clung to her skin was still there, but it was nothing compared to the ache in her chest. Her eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep, her body ached from the fight, but it was her mind that was the true battlefront. She hadn’t even been able to fully comprehend what happened when those things—Viktor’s disgusting creations—had touched her, her mind still fragmented from the sheer chaos.
Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself, as though she could hold all the parts of her that were broken into one piece. Every breath was a reminder of the weight she carried inside, a weight that had only grown heavier since the fight that commenced only a few days ago.
“Sevika?” A soft voice broke through the fog in her mind.
You stood in the doorway, your figure framed by the dim glow of the hallway light. Your eyes were soft with concern, and Sevika could see the way you moved cautiously toward her, not wanting to disturb her but knowing that she needed you. She felt a pang in her chest at the sight of you. You had always been a source of comfort for her, even before everything with Viktor. But now, in this moment of darkness, she felt undeserving of your kindness, your warmth.
You knelt down in front of her, gently taking her hands into your own. The touch was grounding, a lifeline thrown to her in a sea of uncertainty. You didn’t speak at first. You didn’t need to. The silence was heavy, but in it, you offered her the thing she needed most—presence. Your unwavering presence.
“I’m sorry,” Sevika whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking as she squeezed your hands tightly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t get rid of it. The memories. The way it felt to not be in control. The way they… they touched me, forced me to be something I’m not.”
You shook your head, your thumbs gently brushing the backs of her hands. “You don’t have to apologize, Sevika. What happened wasn’t your fault.”
She closed her eyes, trying to push the images away, but they flooded back in an instant. The way her body had been jerked and twisted by forces beyond her understanding. The gnawing feeling that she wasn’t her own person anymore, that she wasn’t Sevika—that she was just an extension of the arcane, a puppet on invisible strings. And when they had tried to make her feel normal, to want to be free, it had felt like a mockery.
“I don’t want to feel like this,” Sevika choked out, her voice barely audible. “I hate it. I hate feeling weak. I’ve never felt weaker in my life. They… they made me want things I can’t have, things I’m not supposed to have. I didn’t even know how to fight it, and even with them gone, they still feel like they are there.”
You leaned forward, your forehead gently pressing against hers, and for a moment, everything in the room felt still. The pain in her chest didn’t disappear, but your warmth was a soothing balm. You didn’t say anything for a long time, just holding her in the silence, letting her feel you there.
She needed you, more than she ever had before, but she didn’t know how to ask for it.
“I know,” you whispered softly, your fingers now caressing her cheek with the gentleness only you could offer. “I know, Sev. I’ve been there. I felt it too… I know what it’s like when the arcane takes control. When it feels like you’re losing yourself. But you’re not weak. Not to me. You’re the strongest person I know.”
Her breath hitched at your words, and she could feel the pressure in her chest lift ever so slightly. She wanted to argue, to tell you that you didn’t understand, that she didn’t deserve to be held, to be comforted. But something in the way you looked at her—something in the warmth of your hands on her skin—stopped her.
Your thumb brushed over the tear that had fallen down her cheek, your gaze never wavering from hers. “You’re not alone, Sevika. I’m here, okay? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to carry this by yourself.”
She felt herself break, the dam she had carefully built over the years cracking open. The weight of everything—the trauma, the guilt, the terror—came flooding out in hot, silent tears. You didn’t let go of her hands, didn’t pull away. You stayed with her as she cried, your embrace comforting and steadfast.
As the sobs began to wrack her body, you wrapped your arms around her tightly, pressing her face into the crook of your neck. “It’s okay to feel like this, Sevika. It’s okay to need someone, especially now. You don’t have to be the strong one all the time.”
The way your arms enveloped her, the way you kissed her forehead softly, telling her that she was safe with you, slowly started to ease the storm inside her heart.
“I was so scared, Y/N,” Sevika whispered, her voice muffled against your skin. “I was so scared of what they were trying to make. Of what they made me feel. I don’t know how to fix myself after all of that.”
You pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, wiping away the last remnants of her tears. “You’re not broken, Sev. You’re healing. And we’ll heal together. One step at a time.”
And with that promise, she believed you. For the first time in what felt like forever, Sevika let herself lean into the love and safety you offered her. The trauma of the arcane wouldn’t disappear overnight, but she knew, deep down, that with you by her side, she didn’t have to face it alone.
You kissed her gently, a soft press of your lips to hers that spoke more than words ever could. It was a promise, a reassurance, that no matter what darkness she faced, she’d never have to fight it alone.
Sevika finally let herself rest in your arms, the world outside no longer so cold. She was safe here. With you.
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littlelamy · 3 days ago
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touches with rafe
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the day had been long, and you were grateful when the evening finally arrived. you sank into the couch, your legs stretched out comfortably, feeling the soft cushions embrace you after a day that seemed to drag on forever. the house was quiet, the kind of peaceful stillness that only came when everything and everyone had settled down for the night.
rafe, your boyfriend, had been quiet all evening. normally, he was full of his usual cocky confidence, always teasing you or pulling some prank. but tonight, he had been unusually introspective, his usual swagger replaced by an almost shy energy that was hard to ignore.
your feet, freshly manicured with a soft blush pink polish, rested neatly on the edge of the couch. you had treated yourself earlier in the week, and you couldn’t help but admire how clean and polished they looked. rafe’s occasional glances seemed to linger there, and you began to wonder if it was just your imagination or if he was genuinely fascinated by something so seemingly mundane
you’d long gotten used to rafe’s bold, often unpredictable nature, but this side of him—this quieter, almost uncertain rafe—was something you hadn’t quite experienced before.
he had been pacing back and forth a bit earlier, the floor creaking beneath his heavy steps, but now he was standing in the doorway, his arms folded across his chest, looking like he was debating whether or not to speak. his eyes were on you, watching you with that familiar gaze that always made your heart skip a beat. but tonight, there was something more—something deeper, more vulnerable in the way he was looking at you.
you gave him a soft smile, your curiosity piqued. “what’s up, baby?” you asked, looking up from your phone.
the seemed to hesitate for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek like he was weighing his words. there was a noticeable shift in the way he was standing, his posture more tense than usual, as if he was nervous about something.
“can I talk to you about something?” he asked, his voice softer than usual. there was a certain caution in his tone, something that made your heart flutter with both curiosity and affection.
you sat up a little, giving him your full attention. “of course. what’s on your mind?”
rafe shifted uncomfortably, running a hand through his hair before he took a step toward you, still not quite meeting your eyes. “it’s... it’s kind of embarrassing,” he mumbled. “but I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I feel like I need to ask.”
you tilted your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “what is it, babe? You know you can ask me anything.”
he bit his lip, looking hesitant. “'kay, here goes,” he said, finally looking up at you, his eyes locking with yours. “could you... could you let me kiss your feet?”
your eyes widened slightly, the request coming out of nowhere, but you couldn’t help but chuckle. “what?” you asked, more amused than anything. “you want to kiss my feet?”
rafe blushed, clearly uncomfortable with how the words had come out. “i know it sounds weird,” he said quickly, “but it’s just... i don’t know. i’ve been thinking about it, and i can’t stop. i swear, i’m not trying to be weird or anything.” he paused, looking almost apologetic, as if he expected you to laugh at him or brush it off.
you couldn’t help but smile at how vulnerable he looked. rafe was always so confident, so full of that cocky attitude that made him a force to be reckoned with. but now, here he was, asking you for something so intimate, something that made him seem more human, more real. the sincerity in his voice made your heart soften.
“it’s not weird, Rafe,” you said gently, moving your legs so they were more in his line of sight. “if you want to, then... i’m not going to stop you.”
you could see his relief in the way his shoulders relaxed, the tension in his posture fading. he took a cautious step closer, his eyes never leaving yours as if searching for any sign that you were joking or that you’d changed your mind. but you didn’t. you were genuinely curious and, honestly, kind of intrigued by the vulnerability he was showing.
“are you sure?” he asked, his voice still tentative.
you nodded, smiling softly at him. “yeah, i’m sure. it’s not a big deal, rafe. you can kiss them if that’s what you want.”
there was a moment of silence, and then, without another word, he lowered himself to his knees in front of you, the intensity in his eyes never wavering. you felt a small shiver run through you at the sudden shift in the atmosphere. this wasn’t a playful request or a joke—it was something deeper, something intimate that spoke to the trust and connection between you two.
rafe gently took your foot in his hands, his touch surprisingly soft, as if he was afraid he might break you. he held your ankle carefully, as though it was the most precious thing he had ever touched. you felt the warmth of his hands against your skin, the tenderness of his fingers brushing against your foot as he leaned down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to your toes.
the sensation was unexpected. his lips were soft, his kiss gentle, as if savoring the moment. it wasn’t just physical—it was a moment of intimacy, of trust, of affection. you couldn’t help but close your eyes for a brief second, overwhelmed by the tenderness of it.
“i’ve wanted to do this for a while,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “i don’t know why... but something about your feet, they're so pretty... just drives me crazy.”
you smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his forehead as he continued to kiss your toes, each kiss more careful than the last. there was something undeniably intimate about the way he was treating you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered at that moment.
his lips moved from your toes to the arch of your foot, kissing the delicate curve with a reverence that made your breath catch in your throat. his hands gently massaged your foot as he continued his slow journey up, each kiss lingering longer, more possessive.
you couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh, the warmth in your chest spreading. the sensation of his lips against your skin, so intimate, so careful, was unlike anything you had ever felt before. it was like he was tasting you, savoring every inch of you, and you found yourself giving into the feeling more and more.
as he reached your ankle, he pressed a slow, deliberate kiss there, then placed a few kisses along the top of your foot, moving higher with each press of his lips. you felt your body respond, warmth spreading through your limbs, a soft tension building in your stomach as his lips continued their journey. his kisses were becoming more insistent, more deliberate.
when his lips finally met the soft skin of your inner ankle, you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, your body responding to the electricity that was pulsing through you. it was an involuntary sound, one that made rafe freeze for just a moment.
he looked up at you, eyes darker than before, filled with a hunger that only deepened the connection between you two. “you’re perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “i want you to feel good.”
you didn’t have to say anything; your body was already betraying you, the way you shifted slightly under his touch, the way your breathing had become a little more erratic. rafe continued his gentle ministrations, his lips trailing higher, moving toward your calf, his touch growing more confident.
his hands moved to your other foot, lifting it gently and bringing it toward his lips. he kissed your toes again, but this time, his lips were warmer, hungrier, the kiss deeper and more possessive. your body tensed at the feeling of his lips wrapping around your big toe, his tongue softly grazing it, before he kissed the next one, then the next.
you moaned again, unable to hold back the soft sounds of pleasure that escaped you as he continued. your body was responding to him, the intimacy of the moment making everything feel sharper, more intense. you felt like you were losing control, but at the same time, you didn’t want it to stop. you wanted this. you wanted him.
rafe pulled away for just a moment, his eyes searching yours, his breath heavy as he licked his lips. there was a fire in his gaze now, something raw and real. he wanted more. he wanted all of you.
and when you looked back at him, your eyes heavy with desire, you knew you wanted the same.
without a word, he gently lifted your other foot and repeated his slow, teasing kisses, this time taking his time with each toe. your heart raced, your body reacting to the delicious warmth spreading through you. with every kiss, every soft suck, your world narrowed down to just him and the overwhelming feeling he was giving you. and the moans that escaped your lips grew louder, your body arching toward him, asking for more.
rafe’s lips pressed against your foot one last time, his kiss deep and slow, as though he was savoring every moment of this, before he looked up at you, his breath ragged. “you’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice a low growl. “i can’t get enough of you baby."
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burnforyou · 3 days ago
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lay all your love on me
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pairing: female singer x jack schlossberg
summary: friends to lovers, he falls first, he’s kinda controlling inspired by his instagram stories today.
“y/n,” jack started, then stopped and just stared at you. you look up from the tomato’s you were chopping and lock eyes with him. you can hear your friends continue their conversation in the other room, unaware of you two.
“hm?”
he sighs. you set down the knife you were using and turn your body fully to him.
“jack?”
“y/n, i want to be serious with you.”
you met jack schlossberg 2 years ago through mutual friends. well, artificial mutual friends. unbeknownst to you, jack arranged for you two to meet after seeing your performance at the Grammys. after your performance, he quickly found whose after party you were attending and got himself on the invites list, and basically faked being friends with people to get to you. how, you’ll never know. but that doesn’t matter.
at the after party, you fell for his charms immediately. he was much more charming (and handsome) than your boyfriend, joe. but that doesn’t matter.
ever since then, you and jack have been the bestest of friends. a day doesn’t go by where you don’t talk to him. now, you’re making pasta from jacks grandma’s famous recipe for your friends.
“i don’t know what you mean.” he picks up his wine glass and downs in it one go.
“i love you, y/n.”
your friends scream as lay all your love on me by ABBA starts playing in the other room.
“i love you too jack” you shout over their singing. they continue even louder. jack grabs your hands, he’s breathing hard. his eyes glisten.
“i’m possessive it isn’t nice” they sing.
“no no, y/n, i want to be with you. y/n i want all of you.”
“jack, this isn’t the right time and you know it.”
you and your boyfriend just broke up because he accused you of cheating. yes, you may have kissed jack once or twice (or maybe a few more times than that) because you were upset, but it wasn’t anything serious. friends kiss all the time, right?
also, you’re about to go on a world tour.
but now it isn’t true
now everything is new
“y/n we can make it work. if you love somebody, you can make it work. and i love you.”
“jack stop it.” you say, removing your hands from his grip but he quickly grabs your waist instead and pulls you closer.
don’t go wasting your emotion
lay all your love on me
“i do, i do love you, you’re amazing there’s nobody like you” you can smell the wine on his breath, it mixes so perfectly with his natural musk and the heat you feel in your stomach from his touch. his hands on your waist that pull you into his body remind you of the first time you kissed him. your body moves before you can think, pulling him down into a kiss. he kisses you like he’s never kissed you before, so needy, so desperate it makes your knees weak. he slinks his hands up to your face and holds you like you’re his treasure. you back away first, hands still on his neck, and he looks at you through hooded eyes.
“the way you smile,” kiss “the way you laugh,” kiss “the way we could spend hours together and i would never get bored,” kiss and a smile. he leans his forehead on yours, your face burns.
the world around you fades away.
“i’ve never felt this way about anybody before,” he whispers.
“me neither.”
“i’ve never laughed so hard in my life. i’m so much better when i’m around you. i cant live without you, y/n” his eyes shine once again.
“jack i love you.” your eyes swell up with tears, blurring jacks face.
“i know we can work it out, y/n, it’ll be fine. we can do distance, hell i’ll follow you across the world. i’d go anywhere for you, y/n, i want this to work. i want us to work.” he speaks as he holds your head, making sure you never look away from him. tears stream down your face, you’re just so overwhelmed with love and emotions you don’t even know what to do. jack holds you and doesn’t let go.
“don’t cry, sweet girl, i need you to listen to me.” you lean into his chest and continue to cry, leaving mascara stains on his white shirt. “why are you crying, hm?”
“jack, i love you so much,” he holds you tight. you never knew how much he loved you, you’ve never been loved like this.
“y/n, listen to me.” you sniffle and look up at him. “i need you, okay? i don’t wanna live without you,” he wipes your tears away, “and if i cant have all of you, i cant handle anything less than all of you. i wanna be with you 24/7, i wanna be fully in love, i never want to leave the stage where we can’t keep our hands off of each other, okay?” you nod against his chest. he never looks away from you.
“i cant share you, i cant share you anymore. i cant share you with another man, i cant share you with your dad, i cant share you with your best friend. i’m your best friend.” he begins to rub your shoulder, his face so full of emotion.
“i’m your best friend who loves you. i’m your best friend who will do anything for you. i’m your best friend, i’m your lover, i’m your husband. i can do all those 3 jobs. i can do it all for you. but i want to know if you can do it all for me.”
“jack, yes,” you speak before you can think.
“shh,” he puts his pointer finger to your lips. “can you be mine?” he asks with a smile. “can you be fully mine? can you be my best friend, partner, lover? can you be the mother of my kids?”
he pauses, looking at you with a smile. neither of you move. your chests rise and fall in unison, your body heat has become one. in this moment, its just you two. you and jack. no one else. no one else matters.
“i’m ready to be serious with you. i don’t want to kiss and tell anymore, i want to marry and tell. i want to be serious with you. i’m committed to you, y/n, and only you.” he pulls you into a deep kiss, a passionate, needy kiss. you kiss him through your tears. you press yourself into his body, a deep need for him taking over.
“so what do you sa-“ you cut off jack before he can finish his sentence with a kiss.
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mythalism · 2 days ago
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I love everything that you write and I wanted to bring this up with you. I feel like if we had seen the actual moment (at least in one of the regrets) of Mythal’s death, it would have been so impactful. It’s something that Solas talks about constantly and that he feels responsible for and I feel like it would have been a huge moment for the player to see in the story. I dunno. Just ranting. Thoughts?
thank you anon 🥺 i would love to yap about this with you… i think you are totally right that seeing mythal’s death would have been really powerful. i COULD be amenable to an argument that keeping it off screen adds to the drama and tension and the way mythal haunts the narrative…. IF that was their intention… but i don’t think it was lol i think it was probably another victim of the messy development.
mythal so thoroughly haunts the narrative and the lighthouse itself… i think if they leaned into that and we ONLY saw her through solas’s pov in murals, keeping the mystery of her murder off-screen would make sense. but considering we literally get to talk to her, she has enough of an on-screen presence that maintaining that sense of separation is already a lost cause. we also know mythal on some level through flemeth, who has literally ranted about mythal’s death!!! “she was betrayed as i was betrayed”!!!! i think it would have been a nice climax of flemethyal’s arc to see that betrayal or at least hear about it.
i totally agree that it would have humanized solas further and i think that would’ve been nice to see, especially how his complicated grief for her was the catalyst/final straw against the evanuris of the veil going up. he also does actually talk about her murder several times, and we know it happens with THE DAGGER so it feels like it would’ve made sense to elaborate on how it happened more, and the fact that it’s his dagger, that she told him to make, that he used to tranquilize the titans, that he carries with him still, that he is so attached to and obsessed with, THAT DAGGER that did it!? it would have served as a really nice metaphor for his attachment to his grief and regret and the precious world, manifested physically in this dagger that also KILLED MYTHAL (and Varric now too!!)
he actually brings up what im assuming is her death when you ask him about blood magic (lol a lot to unpack here but that’s for another time) and honestly idk what to make of his convo because the way he speaks about it is very detached which i find interesting. obviously this might not be about Mythal but the implication that the dagger used was made via blood magic and sacrifice and “I suppose it depends upon the dagger" is suspicious to me….
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anyway, i think who would’ve really benefitted most from us seeing mythal’s murder is ELGAR’NAN!!!!!! HELLO!?!?!? HE MURDERED HIS WIFE AND ITS ONLY MENTIONED ONCE WHEN HE AND SOLAS ARGUE!?!?!?!? WHAT THE FUCK????? the fact that mythal and elgar’nans relationship is nearly nonexistent is one of veilguard’s biggest sins to me. it should have been a huge part of the main story. they are literally THE SUN AND THE MOON. THEY ARE THE ALL MOTHER AND ALL FATHER OF ALL ELVES?????????? and he betrays and murders her and stabs her in the stomach. and literally no one talks about it ever it just doesn’t come up except for like 2 lines. elgarnan was such a one dimensional villain with no motivations (being a naturally evil spirit of tyranny doesn’t count and it’s boring) and no attachments and he feels completely inhuman as a result. like literally he’s just evil and that’s it and it’s so boring. we could have had such an interesting exploration of love and betrayal and how power corrupts and what it must’ve been like to be basically Elven Adam and Eve and a jealous man’s resentment culminating in violence and how mythal’s closeness to solas impacted her relationship with elgarnan like it could have been SO INTERESTING. and yeah. seeing her murder would’ve been a logical conclusion to a lot of build up. put it on the list of things we lost i guess 😔
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lolashifts · 2 days ago
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SHIFTING ISN'T SPECIAL
please bare with me on this one bc it might be a bit longer than i expected (and excuse my very bad title-naming skills 😭)
in this essay i will try to put down in words exactly what i realised today as i started my first day into reprogramming my mind, something that i’m doing while following reya singh’s method. what is that?
shifting IS easy.
yes, i know everybody says it, but it’s the truth and i’m not telling you this as someone who shifts regularly to her drs, because i don’t (yet!). however, it did just click in my mind why people always say it and mean it. and i feel incredibly stupid for not understanding it waaay earlier than just now, 4 years into my journey.
now, let me walk you through the thought process behind this.
in reya’s 4-day method for reprogramming your mind, she instructs to write a list of your beliefs and non-beliefs. this may sound really silly and kinda useless at first - believe me, i woke up this morning thinking “what exactly am i supposed to do after that?” - but there’s a valid reason for it, which is to help you delete from your mind the idea that shifting is like a superpower that’s simply not for everyone and very hard to reach, when that is not the case at all!
in my own beliefs list, i’ve written “i am capable of shifting” right in between “i can speak english”, “i can write and read” and “i can eat --” (and some other things like “i can’t eat gluten”, bc i have celiac disease, “i can dream”, we all do! and “i can lucid dream”). you see where i’m going with this? i’m putting shifting in the same category as things we all normally do, that we sometimes don’t even think about doing since they’re such a natural activity. to this list i could add “i can breathe”, because we do it automatically, without even realising unless we focus on it. the same can be said for drinking or eating really, if you’re angry or thirsty you just go and get whatever pleases you the most and not dwell on it.
in the non-beliefs list, i’ve written obvious things like santa and the easter bunny (which isn’t common here in italy tbf but yeah) and sentences like “i can’t swim”, “i can’t draw”, “i can’t eat strawberries” and in between them also “i don’t fear shifting”. here, the point is that all these listed beliefs are stuff i know for a fact to be false: i can swim perfectly, i am an artist and i love strawberries + i’m not allergic to them or anything. by placing shifting there, i'm stating that just like i KNOW i can swim or whatever, i also KNOW i'm not scared of shifting.
you’re literally gaslighting your subconscious mind into believing what is real for a fact and what isn’t.
after writing down this list, which can be done on paper just like on your preferred device, i reread everything twice explaining to myself why i chose these things and why they are beliefs or not. that’s how i realised that shifting is easy. when people talk about it “clicking” they weren’t lying!
shifting isn’t special, this is what the list thing tries to prove you. it’s not special because, just like breathing and eating and reading, we do it subconsciously everyday. take your own first language: you speak it naturally without having to doubt it, and if you know a second language well enough like i know english for instance (my mother-tongue is italian) then you can even start talking to yourself and think in that language without having to search up translations.
what’s the difference with shifting then?
the difference is that shifting hasn’t been taught to us in the same way as a language has been, all throughout school. the same thing goes for reading and writing: we read and write naturally because we’ve been taught how to when we were young and it’s now engraved in our brains, just like with learning our first language, which is something we normally do thanks to our teachers, our families and the people around us, of course. this doesn’t happen with shifting in most cases, as we all know, which means it’s normal for it to take a bit to grasp as a concept and existing thing/activity. it’s natural, most of us human beings just don’t know about it, nor that we’re capable of doing it.
this is why i said it’s not special: just like breathing, everybody can do it (and so do you)!
going back to the non-beliefs list; i should also add that as a society we usually are taught what to believe in from a young age, and specifically what is believed to be a fantasy, a dream, or something real. as grown-ups, though, we have the right to believe in whatever we want, like shifting. as a realistic person, i understand that some people may have a hard time believing something as great as shifting could be true, because it genuinely doesn’t sound like it! so yes, this is also a factor that can and does make it harder for someone to trust their guts and expect to wake up somewhere that’s only fictional here.
shifting clicks for everybody at different times, but i hope this post will help some of you here understand it better and know that what more experienced shifters say always has a meaning, you just need the time to properly reflect on it to get it!
when it clicked for me a few hours ago i felt a huge rush of adrenaline and happiness bc yes, i can actually shift. i’m just overcomplicating it for no reason and so many of you are doing the same!
it’s okay though, we’ll all get there <3
(psa: if you saw any grammar mistakes or anything NO YOU DIDN'T and also please don't mind if this rant doesn't sound logical, i tried my best to explain myself like i wanted to 🥲)
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artistfingers · 10 months ago
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one thing i didn’t expect was that my voice changing on t would mean i’d essentially forget how to speak in a comfortable register
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When British writers come up with an American character’s dialogue and give them the most painfully British things to say with their American accent and inflection and it makes the actor come off as stiff. :P
#The Oxford Murders (2008)#I mean it was a very well-done movie visually (that flowy choreographed camera work in the beginning WOW)#The plot was apparently hard to follow and it’s not just my lack of spoken dialogue comprehension and attention working against me#I always have to check reviews to make sure I’m not the only person having a hard time following a story#because I’ve been trained through life not to trust my own mind due to its faultiness…#Anyway: When Seldom said something like “…only mathematics can be proven. Basic statements like two plus two equals four#are the only things sure in this world” I— 💀 HELP no no no… one of the previous characters you played#would like to kiss this new character of yours on the mouth for what he just said— ashsisksnsksjjsjdjdmsksk#That is until you elaborated on it and then basically took the side of his persecutor… THAT sucked#And I know my speech right now does not come off as naturally as it once did (or is it) I have no idea#if this is my real voice or the absorption’s afterglow causing me to speak in such an uptight manner#but I don’t mind it#but I do mind it#because no matter what combination of words I use it doesn’t sound or feel as if I am the one speaking — I stitch together what I hear#or have I only been conditioned to think the way I speak isn’t natural because nobody in my immediate life speaks like this#Who says stitching together words into a gigantic quilt isn’t natural for me?#But that still leaves me with no soul. I’m Pete the Parrot. Or Bumblebee.#Maybe I shouldn’t speak or write; maybe I need to master visual telepathy#or a language comprised entirely of touch and eye movement#I always feel the need to create languages so I can express myself without falling into cliches and dialects#I want to be free of stereotypes#I’m tired of speaking this language… EXHAUSTED#I speak in predictable patterns and when I think I’m not using a pattern by being unpredictable; the unpredictability becomes a trend
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s-soulwriter · 1 month ago
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Things Real People Do in Dialogue (For Your Next Story)
Okay, let’s be real—dialogue can make or break a scene. You want your characters to sound natural, like actual humans talking, not robots reading a script. So, how do you write dialogue that feels real without it turning into a mess of awkward pauses and “ums”? Here’s a little cheat sheet of what real people actually do when they talk (and you can totally steal these for your next story):
1. People Interrupt Each Other All the Time In real conversations, nobody waits for the perfect moment to speak. We interrupt, cut each other off, and finish each other's sentences. Throw in some overlaps or interruptions in your dialogue to make it feel more dynamic and less like a rehearsed play.
2. They Don’t Always Say What They Mean Real people are masters of dodging. They’ll say one thing but mean something totally different (hello, passive-aggressive banter). Or they’ll just avoid the question entirely. Let your characters be vague, sarcastic, or just plain evasive sometimes—it makes their conversations feel more layered.
3. People Trail Off... We don’t always finish our sentences. Sometimes we just... stop talking because we assume the other person gets what we’re trying to say. Use that in your dialogue! Let a sentence trail off into nothing. It adds realism and shows the comfort (or awkwardness) between characters.
4. Repeating Words Is Normal In real life, people repeat words when they’re excited, nervous, or trying to make a point. It’s not a sign of bad writing—it’s how we talk. Let your characters get a little repetitive now and then. It adds a rhythm to their speech that feels more genuine.
5. Fillers Are Your Friends People say "um," "uh," "like," "you know," all the time. Not every character needs to sound polished or poetic. Sprinkle in some filler words where it makes sense, especially if the character is nervous or thinking on their feet.
6. Not Everyone Speaks in Complete Sentences Sometimes, people just throw out fragments instead of complete sentences, especially when emotions are high. Short, choppy dialogue can convey tension or excitement. Instead of saying “I really think we need to talk about this,” try “We need to talk. Now.”
7. Body Language Is Part of the Conversation Real people don’t just communicate with words; they use facial expressions, gestures, and body language. When your characters are talking, think about what they’re doing—are they fidgeting? Smiling? Crossing their arms? Those little actions can add a lot of subtext to the dialogue without needing extra words.
8. Awkward Silences Are Golden People don’t talk non-stop. Sometimes, they stop mid-conversation to think, or because things just got weird. Don’t be afraid to add a beat of awkward silence, a long pause, or a meaningful look between characters. It can say more than words.
9. People Talk Over Themselves When They're Nervous When we’re anxious, we tend to talk too fast, go back to rephrase what we just said, or add unnecessary details. If your character’s nervous, let them ramble a bit or correct themselves. It’s a great way to show their internal state through dialogue.
10. Inside Jokes and Shared History Real people have history. Sometimes they reference something that happened off-page, or they share an inside joke only they get. This makes your dialogue feel lived-in and shows that your characters have a life beyond the scene. Throw in a callback to something earlier, or a joke only two characters understand.
11. No One Explains Everything People leave stuff out. We assume the person we’re talking to knows what we’re talking about, so we skip over background details. Instead of having your character explain everything for the reader’s benefit, let some things go unsaid. It’ll feel more natural—and trust your reader to keep up!
12. Characters Have Different Voices Real people don’t all talk the same way. Your characters shouldn’t either! Pay attention to their unique quirks—does one character use slang? Does another speak more formally? Maybe someone’s always cutting people off while another is super polite. Give them different voices and patterns of speech so their dialogue feels authentic to them.
13. People Change the Subject In real life, conversations don’t always stay on track. People get sidetracked, jump to random topics, or avoid certain subjects altogether. If your characters are uncomfortable or trying to dodge a question, let them awkwardly change the subject or ramble to fill the space.
14. Reactions Aren’t Always Immediate People don’t always respond right away. They pause, they think, they hesitate. Sometimes they don’t know what to say, and that delay can speak volumes. Give your characters a moment to process before they respond—it’ll make the conversation feel more natural.
Important note: Please don’t use all of these tips in one dialogue at once.
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 8 months ago
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:((((((((( i ran out of tags . tumblr hates to see me thrive!!!!!!!
ok niku just . read the tags first and then come back here ok 🙏🙏 i have a lot i still need to say this is so important to me . this fic changed my life .
(WARNING this got long ….. really long ….. mysteriously. i got carried away 💔 PLS don’t feel the need to respond to any of this btw i mean that sincerely i know this is kind of a Lot i just need you to know much i adored this fic <3333)
BACK TO GOJO ok so his talk w reader…… it was just so satisfying to see them finally get to tell someone about their experience. it must’ve been such a great feeling for them !!!! to get some of it off their chest :((( … and to have Gojo Fucking Satoru our safe harbour of a man there to believe them and listen to them and reassure them. he’s so mature when it comes down to it and you captured that so well…… like as much as he acts childish and teasing this is exactly how i picture him interacting w someone he doesn’t know in a situation like this!! he’s flirty and unserious but he tells you he’ll protect you and means it. (i’m so down bad it physically hurts)
sorry i’m abt to go on a tangent i think BUT I JUST 😔😔 really… REALLY love their dynamic…. how it evolves so much even though he doesn’t even know reader exists for most loops!! and to them he’s just this beautiful Something that they can’t help but look at…… ”inhumanly attractive” is a great way to put it like he’s just….. this magnetic force……….. and i feel like even before they speak to him for the first time they probably find some kind of hope in him.
AND that’s so important bc to me that’s like . the main Theme of the fic? hope. reader has to find some kind of hope to make it through shibuya and more often than not they find it in gojo!!! in just seeing a familiar handsome face, in learning how to navigate the timeline through his actions, in talking to him and finally having him on their side. their choice to trust him fully at the end just made me soooo insane. and obv the hope theme continues even after that because gojo believes in them!!! believes that they’ll be okay in the prison realm….. more on that later actually bc i Still. have a lot to talk abt 😔👉👈 i’m just wildly flipping through my notes at this point i’m sorry to throw this at u when we’ve barely interacted but in my defense this fic reached into my actual skull and started rewiring my brain so!!!! yeah.
i got completely sidetracked there but . yes!! the conversation between them when gojo gets sent back in time is. so good!!!!! so wonderfully written!!!!! i haven’t mentioned it that much yet i think but i love your writing i devoured every line…… i struggle w the flow of my own writing SO much but this just flows so incredibly well??? it was sm fun to read????? and the rhythm of the paragraphs (that sounds. Insane but i hope u know what i mean 😭😭) is so distinct!!! and ofc there are SO many banger lines in this in general…. the gore descriptions and the lines abt reader and their fixation on hope. on gojo!! ”He's a terrifying sort of beauty and you can't help but be captivated by him.” <- this is just one example but!! idk i’m just so enamored by ur writing style.
and the dialogue!!!!!!!! i cried!!!!!! it’s so consistently gojo…. him going all ”oh?” ”interesting…” but not explaining anything … the ”ding ding ding!” after making reader guess what he should just be telling them (it’s the teacher in him <33) AND AND AND these too!!!! :3
“Just think of it like having a lot of MP.”
“You know, your technique kind of reminds me of save scumming.” 
THEY JUST FEEL SO CANON that’s our gojo…… that’s exactly what he would say…… he’s so unserious and so funny and so charming 😔😔 sigh.
ANDDDDD reader telling him good luck!!!! gojo beaming and squeezing their shoulder!!!!! the lil wave!!!!! 🥺🥺 that made me smile so wide niku he’s so infuriatingly cute . it felt so genuine!!!! pls know that this gojo will probably live in my brain forever like genuinely . i’ve been brainrotting over him all week and this was the final nail in the coffin. i’ll never be free.
ok but also !!!! extremely important !!!!!!! before i get to the ending i just need to tell u . how much i loved kenjaku in this ……….. kenjaku nation (me & six others) will never forget these crumbs of content like he just feels so real!!!!! and he’s so interesting!!!!! made me realize how truly down bad i am for him bc these lines made me so fucking happy 😭😭 brain started releasing serotonin like CRAZY i’m so ashamed.
“You can come out, you know.”
”How interesting.”
"I'll be nice, though. I'll make it painless."
…….. he’s just ….. yeah. yeahhhhh. 😔😔 i’ll never be normal abt him. i think it’s SUCH an interesting detail that he always makes reader’s death painless in every single loop…. he never lies about it. that feels so in character to me too!!! he’s kinda fascinated at first and when that interest disappears he kills them. but he doesn’t make it unecessarily cruel because there’s just. no need. kenjaku is a sicko but he’s oddly polite at times and i’m just……. yeah. gonna need you to take over for gege akutami actually 🙏🙏 get in the writer’s chair!!! the fandom needs u!!!!!
wait while we’re on this topic pls just know the entire confrontation between reader and kenjaku was one of my favorite moments in the entire fic <333 not JUST because i’m a kenny stan ok……… reader’s resignation and ”I appreciate it.” made my brain spin because it’s just . kinda chilling? kinda sick? that they aren’t even really afraid of death anymore… or more like they’re just so frighteningly used to it.
AND AND ANDDDD niku your writing in this scene 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 gutted me like a fish.
Time doesn't flow in the box. He didn't lie. You die again.
i exploded btw . ackkk i wish i could explain it better i just!!! :< adore your writing. these lines made me go completely batshit they’re just so good. and the ”time doesn’t flow in the box” line … how that ties in with the ending and reader’s choice. whewww.
segway time <3333 this is the final rant i promise!!! i just need to talk about the ending bc it was so perfect and like many other things in this fic it made me insane …. have i said that already …. probably at least a couple times 😔👉👈 it’s true ok!! it’s just sooo interesting to me and obviously so wellwritten and fitting and just. thematically ties everything together so well? i was FLOORED
hhhhh i don’t know where to begin so i’ll just start w the final convo between reader and gojo :> he asks for their name !!!!!!! i cried !!!!!!!!!! calling someone by their name or knowing their name as a form of like . Closeness or Affection is one of my greatest weaknesses and i also think it’s soooo telling that GOJO wants to know Your Name. he wants to know you. to hear that from someone who seems so inhumanly beautiful and violent….. for him to kind of extend a final olive branch and attempt to connect w you :((((( it just says so much without spelling it out and i. started chewing at my desk. it’s so good!!!!!!! such a genius way to tie everything together!!!! and reader’s final words to him…
“Thank you, Satoru Gojo.” You burn the glittering glow of his brilliant bright blue eyes into your mind.  And then, everything is engulfed in an unending black. 
first of all!!! so so sooooo pretty. wowow. second of all THE THANK YOU ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ that’s also such a perfect conclusion…….. reader finally put their trust in someone and had that faith returned. and they thank him!!!! i like to think it means something to gojo too…. likeeee how often do people really thank him for what he does? how often is his hard work to protect people acknowledged and appreciated? sorry to bring gojo back into the discussion all the time sadly i AM in love w him….. 😔😔 and this fic made it worse so technically it’s your fault. kind of.
okay so my brain is kinda spinning away again so i’ll get to the final final thing!!!! for real this time!!!!! reader’s decision to be imprisoned in gojo’s stead… that’s so . genius? i’m so in awe??????? it makes so much sense from a character perspective based on what they’ve been through — after being at the mercy of time for so long, wouldn’t it be nice to be free of it? completely? it’s almost kind of chilling and just the idea of it scares me LMAO but it makes sm sense that reader would be drawn to it.
AND like i mentioned before!!! how it leads to a deeper connection between them and gojo, and how at the very end of the fic he’s the one who has faith in them. faith that they’ll be alright, of sound mind.
…… and that brings me to the final final final thing because. it’s just like the opening poem!! reader is the cat in the box. nobody can say for sure if they’re alright, not to mention alive, until the box is opened. and we don’t get to know!!! you leave us on a cliffhanger and that’s so good bc it really is like the cat in the box…. we can only wonder but it also gives us the freedom to decide for ourselves if we think they come out okay or not and i’m just………….. in love. with this fic. and the ending and the reader and gojo and you.
hopefully you’ve noticed atp but i really did go completely insane reading this 😭😭 i said it at the beginning but just to reiterate!!: for SURE one of my all time favorite gojo fics . AND loopfics in general…. thank you sm for your hard work :’3 aaaa i can’t tell u how much i admire the time you spent working on this??? your storytelling and writing and characterization skills????? i genuinely feel sooo giddy and excited and happy rn bc. i just adored this fic!!!! i’m so lucky i got to read it!!!!! :33 pls pat your gojo on the head from me and let him know i love him…. it’ll boost his ego but that’s a risk i’m willing to take 😔😔 i hope you have theeeee loveliest day or night a human being can have bc you made mine <3333333
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beyond the unending night (reader + satoru gojo)
notes: it's finally here. the long awaited halloween fic. yes, i know it's march, but i did start working on it in september. haha. there's so much i could say, but i will leave it at that this fic is, in every sense, a fic that i would not normally write. and yet here we are.
contains: f!reader (no physical description or gendered language is used), no explicit romantic pairing (though you don't have to look hard to find the reader x gojo implications), major character death (played with), semi-graphic depictions of death, blood and violence, minor suicide ideation, canon retelling (lines of dialogue are pulled from the jjk english dub because i'm a dirty dub watcher). opening poem is from higurashi no naku koro ni (minagoroshi-hen). fic title is from giga's beyond the way.
please note that this is a time loop fic and, by nature contains repeating scenes (particularly from canon). please do not read this fic if you do not like that sort of thing.
wc: 21,883 read on ao3 (account required)
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Please tell me what happened in this night. It's like the cat inside the box.
Please tell me what happened in this night. You don't know if the cat in the box is dead or alive. Please tell me what happened in this night. The cat in the box was dead.
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The first time, it is instant— you don’t even know what’s happening.
The second, it is by flame, but you barely realize it, barely feel it— a second of mind numbing heat before nothing.
The third time, it is something slicing across your throat; you see the blood spilling everywhere, then the pain follows— a moment of pure agony before nothing.
The fourth time you realize what’s going on; what’s really going on.
You realize you’ve been dying.
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You think your head is going to explode.
At first, you think it’s because the subway platform is crowded, insanely so— there are hundreds of people shoved into this space alongside you, packed like sardines in a can. You’ve never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you live in Tokyo. For the most part, you’ve learned to accept it, but even this crowd is a little much and you wish you hadn’t listened to your friends when they said you should go party in Shibuya for Halloween; you don’t even like partying.
There’s a sharp pain in your temple followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone is screaming it at you through a megaphone positioned right next to your ear.
It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
For the eighth time.
Before you can even question the thought, images flash in your mind’s eye, blurry at first before they come into focus. The platform gates open. Chaos ensues. People dropping onto the subway tracks— spontaneously bursting into flame— their heads, necks sliced off, stomachs cut open—
Bile rapidly builds up in your throat, and you clamp your jaw shut, trying to force it down. Not here. Not now. You try to focus on something else, anything else happening outside of your brain. There’s a pair next to you musing about the people standing on the subway tracks, wondering what the two (the four?) of them are talking about. You blink back tears as you look. You can only see two: a freakishly tall man with white hair dressed in all black, and another man, dressed in strange, yet more traditional looking garb. Are those costumes too? You don’t have a lot of time to think about it as another image forces its way into your brain.
Your corpse— lifeless on the ground.
Your corpse— burning to ash.
Your corpse— bleeding out.
You can’t hold it in any more. Every fiber in your being screams at you to get away from the subway tracks, but instead you rush toward them, shoving people left and right as your hands desperately reach the stability of the gate. You grip it like a lifeline as you retch over the side of it, the contents of your stomach spilling all over the subway tracks.
There’s a quiet murmur of disgust behind you but you can’t be bothered to respond. You need to get out of here. You need to leave. You need to do it before—
The gates open and the crowd starts to move like a tidal wave, pushing and shoving their way through the gate. You’re swept away, vomit long forgotten as you and a few dozen others tumble onto the railway.
Alarm bells go off in your brain, loud and deafening. A voice in the back of your head screams for you to get off the track! Get off the track now before—
The platform erupts into a cacophony of screams, drenched in horror, saturated in fear. You are surrounded by people, by corpses— beheaded, sliced open, bursting into flames.
Your terror roots you to the ground as the carnage ensues around you. It’s only when another person, another corpse, dressed in a magical girl costume collides with your body that you can finally move. But it’s too late, you realize, despaired and helpless, as your bodies fall to the ground.
It’s too late.
You die an eighth time.
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You think your chest is going to explode.
At first, you think it’s because it’s so hard to breathe, frustratingly so— there are hundreds of people squeezed into this space alongside you, packed like cattle for slaughter. You've never been one for crowds, but it’s the reality of things when you’re in Shibuya. For the most part, you’ve come to accept it, but this crowd is way too much and you wish you had just stayed home and ordered a pizza; though honestly, the thought of pizza kind of makes you sick.
There’s a dull throbbing in your forehead, followed by a thought so loud that it feels like someone’s hollering at you from a loudspeaker that’s been installed in your brain.
It’s the night of October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
You think it's the ninth time now.
Behind you, you hear a woman screaming, her voice crazed and terrified. You turn your head automatically to look at her and when you see her you realize you recognize her yellow and white magical girl costume. You can say with certainty that you’ve never seen her before and yet—
Before you can ruminate more on it, images— memories assault your mind’s eye with a clarity that is absolutely sickening. That woman colliding into you, your bodies slamming into the subway tracks before you both— Your stomach churns violently,
and you feel like you’re going to puke, but you force it down— can't afford to right now. Instead, you make your way over to the woman.
Her head is in her hands as she mutters over and over again about how everyone is going to die. People around her figure that being stuck in here with the crowd has probably gotten to her. You, however, know better.
“...hey,” you say softly.
Her muttering comes to an abrupt halt and slowly she raises her head to look at you. There’s a flash of recognition in her eyes and she grabs you violently by the shoulders. “You! You know, don’t you? That we’re going to die?”
If it weren’t for the fact that you have indeed experienced death here eight times already, then you would have thought she’s lost her mind. Slowly, you nod and she seems relieved by it, her grip on you loosening.
You can’t help but feel a little relieved too— glad to know that you’re not the only one experiencing this nightmare. There’s a voice in the back of your mind that’s confused though. Why is she only remembering now? But then again, it took you a few times before you realized yourself.
Around you people start to gasp, and you glance back toward the railway to see an abnormally tall man with white hair and dressed in all black jump down from the atrium onto the railway. He lands rather gracefully for someone who jumped at least one floor and starts to converse with the other three people (you think they're people— two of them are in some pretty wild costumes) on the track.
Wait. Isn’t it supposed to be just two people: the tall man and the one in the traditional clothes? Where did the other two come from?
“We have to get out of here,” the woman says. “Before they kill us.”
Her grip shifts from your shoulders to your arms and she starts to shove at everyone around you, trying to force her way through. She seems to know, just as well as you do, that any second now the gates will open and the crowd will start spilling onto the railway, littering the tracks with bodies and ash. Neither of you can let yourselves get swept up with the rest. If you do and you end up on those tracks, you’re as good as dead.
People move aside at a snail's pace, many of them too focused on trying to see what is going on on the subway tracks. This isn't good. You need to move faster or else—
The collective sound of the gates opening echoes in your head, a metallic hiss that makes your stomach fold into itself. Before either of you can stop yourselves, you both whip your heads back to look, to confirm, but it’s a mistake.
The briefest lapse in attention is enough to pull you both into the current of people, and try as you might to fight against it, the crowd splits you and the woman apart as it swallows you both whole. You’re both spat onto the tracks at the edge of the platform and your head collides with the metal rails of the track. It feels like your skull is about to crack in two, and it takes every fiber in your being to scramble to your feet. You're close enough to the platform that if you can just climb up it, then you'll be—
“Help! Help!”
It’s the woman’s voice. You turn to see that she ended up a couple meters away from you. She’s staring at you, eyes brimming with fear filled tears as she extends her hand in your direction. You take a step toward her, reaching out.
And then, her entire body is engulfed in flames, the skirt of her magical girl costume a ring of fiery death around her.
Her blood curdling scream is the only thing you can hear, her burning flesh, the only thing you can see. You don’t know what to do.
You can’t save her.
There's something touching your back. You can barely feel the pressure, but it's hot, scorching hot, mind numbingly hot, painfully hothothot.
You know this sensation. You have felt it before. The scent of burning cloth, burning hair, burning flesh clogs your nostrils. It's too late, you realize, helpless, despaired as the flames eat at your body— your soon to be corpse.
It's too late.
You die a ninth time.
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It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
This is the tenth time.
Your head hurts, but you ignore it. There’s something more important that you need to attend to. You immediately make your way to the woman you met during your last round, the one you watched burn to death. Her costume is still pristine, unmarred by fire and death.
For now.
She’s not screaming this time and while there’s a little voice in the back of your mind that’s concerned by this, you try to ignore it.
“Um, excuse me?” you say when she doesn’t acknowledge you as you approach.
The woman turns to look at you. You’re taken aback by the distinct lack of recognition and it feels almost as if the woman you encountered previously and the one before you now are two separate people. In a way, they technically are.
“Do I… know you?” she finally asks when you don’t say anything.
Your mouth is dry. How do you even answer that? You don’t know her. You just watched her die twice. You know her. She begged you for help. You couldn’t save her.
If you explain all of this you know she’s just going to think you’ve lost your mind. Maybe you already have— you’ve died nine times after all.
You give her a weak smile. “I… just wanted to tell you that you think your costume looks great.”
She blinks, taken aback by your words. There’s no doubt that she wasn’t expecting you to say that. It’s the truth though, her costume is nice; she’s dressed up as a character from a magical girl anime that was popular a couple years ago.
“Thank you! I made it myself!” The woman breaks out into a genuine smile and your heart hurts. In a few moments she’ll die and the costume she worked so hard to make will be nothing but ash on the subway tracks.
“Sorry,” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.
“For?”
For watching her die. For not being able to save her.“...I just kind of came up to you all of a sudden…”
She laughs. “It’s okay.”
It’s not.
You consider telling her that she should try to move. That if she stays here she will die. You don’t want her to die. Again. You can still hear her screaming in your ears as she burned to death. You want to tell her.
You don’t.
“Stay safe, okay?” you say. It almost sounds like you’re begging.
She gives you another smile, kind and gentle and you think you’re far too undeserving of it for not telling her what fate will soon befall her. “You too.”
“I’ll try,” you say and move away from the woman just as the gates open and the crowd surges toward the railway. You do not fight it as you are swept up into the crowd and despite what you said, you do not try, this time, to stay safe.
You die for the tenth time.
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It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
This is the fourteenth time.
There’s a slight ache in your head, but it’s subtle enough that you can ignore it. The pain you feel lessens with each round and you think it’s a sign that your body no longer feels the need to remind you of the precarious situation that you’re in.
Or maybe you are just becoming numb to everything: your death, the death of the people around you, the death of the woman in the magical girl costume—
You try not to think about it too much as you reach into your bag to check the time on your phone: 8:37PM. There’s not a lot of time: you need to move.
At the very end of your last attempt to escape this nightmare you realized something. You need to know exactly what is going on around you so you can plan accordingly: where to not stand, where to not go. Up until now, you’ve relied almost solely on the knowledge gained from your previous failures to try and survive, but obviously it’s not enough to keep you alive. You’re not sure why you didn’t realize this earlier. The panic, maybe? The fear?
Maybe you really are becoming numb to all this.
Unlike previous iterations, this time you elect to move closer to the gate, positioning yourself somewhere against it where you’re unlikely to be pushed off the platform in a couple minutes when they open. You take great care to place yourself where you can see the ones responsible for the slaughter very clearly. At the beginning, you could only see one, the one who looks the most human, but with each repetition, the other two have become more and more clear. You wonder why. You don’t have time to think about it.
Murmurs nearby alert you to the arrival of the fourth major player involved in the night’s events. You look up and see the white haired man dressed in all black descending upon the platform like an angel from the heavens. This is your first time really looking at him and you realize there’s something almost inhumanly attractive about him. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but it occurs to you that you shouldn’t even try; you don’t have the time to be drooling over some handsome stranger.
You’ve naturally never taken the time to try and listen to whatever the conversation the man and his opponents have before all hell breaks loose on the platform, but you try and lean closer to listen. It’s hard to hear over the dozens of conversations going on behind you, but you try anyway. There might be a clue to what’s actually going on— or better yet, a clue on how to get out of it.
It’s obvious that you’re missing context from what bits of the conversation you do manage to hear, but honestly it all sounds like stuff out of a shounen battle manga. There is one part of the exchange that you manage to hear with a startling sort of clarity. It feels almost as if your heart stops beating as your blood turns ice cold in your veins.
“If I run away, you’re just gonna kill everyone here, right?” the man in black asks.
There’s a pause, and if your heart was still beating it’d be long enough for just four heartbeats.
“If you run away?” The monster with cane repeats, the sadistic grin spreading wide across its features, displaying its charcoal black teeth. The gravelly sound of its voice sets fire to the blood in your veins, your stilled heart thumping wildly, in fear, in anticipation. Soon. It’s happening soon. You brace yourself. “We’re going to do that even if you don’t!”
You die a fourteenth time.
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It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
This is the seventeenth time now.
Things are going surprisingly well, even as the people around you tumble onto the tracks. You manage to hold on, desperation keeping you from falling into the abyss. This is good, you tell yourself, despite the fact that it’s not the first time you’ve achieved this. Every little victory is worth celebrating, but you have to remain vigilant. This is yet another information gathering loop, and while you know that maybe this time you’ll be lucky and live, there’s still a chance, a big one, at that, that you will die again.
You have to make the most of each and every death.
It’s such a morbid thought, but the ends justify the means, or so you tell yourself. If you have to die a few times to make it out of this unending nightmare, then so be it.
The spot you’re in is a good vantage point; it’s easier to see everything happening below you. It’s so good that it’s actually sickening. You watch as the monster with the cane and one with what looks like branches for eyes slaughter the people on the track, mowing them down, setting them aflame. In another life, in another many lives, that was you down there, and for what feels like the first time in forever, you feel like you’re going to be sick. You feel like, at some point, you likened the scene before you to some kind of shounen battle manga, but you think that was wrong.
This is borderline horror.
Everything plays out before you like a scene out of an action horror flick. If you didn’t know better, you’d think you were just an extra on set, but you know the reality is that you’re just an extra to whatever phantasmal battle is taking place in front of you. The monsters and the strangely dressed man all try to attack the man in black, but he manages to block every hit effortlessly, as if he is protected by some sort of invisible barrier. When it seems the two monsters are about to hit him, he merely jumps out of the way and the two monsters seem to collide, the force of their combined strength sending a gust of air throughout the crowd. The man in black neatly lands on a nearby platform half wall and says something about curse users, whatever those are, to the monsters, before he starts to mock them, pulling down his strange blindfold in the process.
And this, you’ve found, is where you start to get in trouble.
You clearly remember thinking, at some point, previously, that there was something attractive about this man. You still don’t know what it is. You haven’t had the time to try and figure it out, but there is one thing that you do know: you can’t keep your eyes off of him.
He drops back down onto the tracks, antagonizing his opponents in an arrogant tone as he approaches. When he comes to a stop between the two monsters, the second round of their fight begins. They try to hit him, but he dodges still, gracefully, fluidly, like the three of them are embroiled in some sort of passionate, yet violent dance.
You cannot turn your eyes away as he cruelly rips off one of the arms of the one-eyed monster.
You cannot turn your eyes away as he brutally kicks the branch-eyed monster in the abdomen, sending them flying to the other side of the platform.
You cannot turn your eyes away as he effortlessly hurls the one-eyed, now one-armed monster in the same direction, sending them smashing into the wall.
Only when the man in black seems to fly to the other side is the spell over you seemingly broken. Still, your eyes give chase, and your body too, rushing from one side of the platform to the other. You can’t lose sight of this fight, you tell yourself, settling in a spot you recall being safe during your last round. Doing so could mean another death, another loop, another October 31.
You watch as the man in black acrobatically dodges what looks to be vines or roots that the monster with branches for eyes seems to have summoned from the depths of the Tokyo metro. He lands on the monster’s shoulders, balancing on them as he uses its branch-eyes for leverage. The look in the man’s eyes is so crazed that you can see it from where you’re standing. He says something to it and then—
With a feral and sadistic smile, he rips their eyes straight out of their skull.
Your heart is pounding wildly in your chest as you watch the fight unfold. It is horrifyingly, disgustingly violent, yet still you watch as people on the track are killed by the human-like person, blood raining down as their freshly beheaded skulls go flying into the air. He and the one-eyed monster launch their counter attacks against the man in black and the blowback is so intense the power goes out causing everyone to scream.
There’s a faint glow where the man in black is standing that starts to grow brighter and brighter. You can make out his form turning to face the wall, and it seems almost like he’s slammed the monster that had branches for eyes against it with some sort of telekinetic power. Despite the panic from the people around you, you manage to hear him, chuckling like a mad man as he draws closer and closer to the monster.
The one-eyed monster yells out a name, a name you think must belong to the man, but he doesn’t hear it. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as he extends his hands out toward the eyeless monster, exerting some kind of force that you can’t really see. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster as the eyeless monster’s entire body is vaporized in a flash of blue light. He doesn’t hear the one-eyed monster, as the lights flicker back on revealing a smoking crater stained with purple blood where the eyeless monster once stood.
But you do.
Satoru Gojo.
You make sure to remember that.
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It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
And this is the eighteenth time.
You watch as the man called Satoru Gojo stalks through the crowd of people on the subway tracks, chasing after the one-eyed fire monster. It throws people at him, in a clear attempt to slow him down.
It does not work.
Satoru Gojo climbs back onto the platform in a way that you can only describe as inhuman, and the people nearby shriek and move away from him, out of terror, out of fear. You, on the other hand, draw closer, refusing to lose sight of him.
He is relentless in his pursuit of the one-eyed monster. It continues to throw person after person at him, but he does not stop and the people float there, suspended in midair before they are gently lowered to the ground by some unseen force and scramble away.
No one dares get close to Satoru Gojo, everyone on the platform seems to know that doing so means certain death, yourself included. But you still feel the need to keep an eye on him. The monster and the strangely dressed man are focusing more on him than the crowd— anyone in between is just collateral damage.
But not you.
Especially since you’ve made it this far— you’ve never made it this far before.
A voice echoes throughout the platform; you realize it’s the automated announcement.
An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.
You can hear everyone’s relief coming from all sides. The train is coming! The train is coming! A ripple of hope makes its way throughout the crowd. With the train comes the chance to get off the platform and the senseless violence that’s been happening here. Some of the people around you are talking excitedly and others are running toward the gates, toeing the yellow line they’ve been instructed to wait behind. And you, you should be excited, you should be hopeful.
All you feel is dread.
It eats at your stomach, at your chest, at your mind. Clawing and gnawing at you in a way that leaves you paralyzed on the platform. There’s something wrong here. You can’t be sure because you’ve never made it this far, never survived long enough for the train to come, but something is just not right.
No.
You must be paranoid. The train coming is a good thing. It has to be a good thing. You are just paranoid. It’s normal. It’s natural. Dying seventeen times would do that to anyone— rob them of hope, condemn them to an existence full of fear.
It is not lost on you that the thought of dying more than once, much less, dying seventeen times is not normal or natural in the very slightest.
But you need hope, you crave it, wildly, desperately. The hope of freedom, of escape is the only thing getting you through this unending nightmare. Every time you die, every time you wake, it is with the hope that maybe, just maybe this iteration will be different, maybe this one will be the one where you make it out, make it back to your friends who must be waiting for you, make it back home where you can be safe and sound. You need the hope to keep going. Because without hope, what will you have left?
The train screeches as it pulls into the station and the people around you laugh in both disbelief and relief. They start to push and shove toward it, fighting to be able to board because there’s no way everyone here will be able to get on an eight car train and being left behind at this point is practically synonymous with death. Unable to decide if you believe in the train as a symbol of hope or a new layer of fear, you are pushed along with the crowd toward it.
The doors of the train cars slide open and the current passengers all rush off as they disembark. You as well as everyone else on the platform can see with a horrifying clarity that the train is filled to the brim with monsters. Monsters that reach out and grab anyone their hands can reach. The woman to your left. The person to your right.
You.
Hope is gone.
What do you have left?
You die for the eighteenth time.
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It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
This is probably the twenty-sixth time now.
If there is anything this entire ordeal has taught you, it is that you are resilient. Whether it is some innate trait that you never had any reason to uncover before or just a byproduct of being trapped in an unending cycle of being dead and not dead, you don't know. What you do know, though, is that even if you no longer have hope, you at least have your resilience.
Whether you want it or not.
You check the time. It’s 8:35PM. Something flickers in your chest, like a faint light in a sea of darkness, but you ignore it. You don’t have time right now.
With a nimbleness born from your previous failures, you weave your way through the crowd. You’ve done this enough times to know where the gaps are— who will yield and who won’t. Your destination is the escalator that leads off the platform and up to a higher part of the station. You’d noticed previously that the escalator along with every other entrance onto the platform will eventually be blocked by vines or roots of some sort (the work of the branch-eyed monster probably). It’s not a perfect plan because you don’t know what happens on the other side, but whatever it is has to be better than whatever is happening on the side that you’ve been on.
You’d tried to get to the stairs during your last two rounds, but you’d just missed it. You hadn’t been fast enough and had gotten caged and slaughtered along with the rest. But this time, this time you have more time. It’s just one minute, but it’s enough. You know it is.
The flickering in your heart grows stronger. Hope. You try not to pay attention to it— you don’t want to be disappointed yet again. But you want to so badly. A voice in the back of your mind tells you to focus on the good, tells you that if there was truly no way out of this endless nightmare, then why would you get more and more time with each round to escape your fate?
With that thought in mind, you break out into a run, recklessly rushing through the crowd, shoving anyone who will not yield to the side. Out of the corner of your eye you can see the stark white of Satoru Gojo’s hair as he descends upon the platform.
You need to get up those stairs.
Now.
If you remember correctly, the roots and vines don’t close off the area the moment he touches down, but a little after they start talking, so you think there is probably some time, but you can’t leave it to chance.
The stairs are packed, and for some reason no one is moving. The escalator right next to it is just as full and the power doesn’t seem to be working. You don’t have time for this. You clamber onto the escalator’s rubber handrail, ignoring the weird feeling that passes through your body as you do so. You don’t have the time to worry about whatever that is. The people around you start exclaiming around you, but you don’t care, you don’t listen. You wobble as you try to balance yourself and when you think you’re steady you try to run.
But you trip.
And you die for the twenty-sixth time.
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It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
This marks the thirtieth time.
And you have, finally, finally made it up the escalator, up the stairs with barely a second to spare. You pause, glancing back as the roots or vines or whatever the hell they are seal off the entrance to the platform. You notice that the area where the plants come down is actually fairly clear, despite the crowd. It seems weird, but you don’t dwell on it.
A strange feeling envelops your entire body and your legs turn into jelly. As you sink to the floor, you realize what you’re feeling is relief as all the tension, maybe thirty iterations of Halloween 2018 worth, seeps from your being. You don't remember the last time you felt anything other than fear and dread; it’s weird, but not unwelcome.
That voice in the back of your mind tells you that you can't relax just yet: October 31st isn’t over. Even though you have repeated this night again and again, burning the events that play out on the platform into your memory, you do not know a single thing that happens over here. It would be smart to scope everything out.
Legs still shaky, you rise to your feet and start walking. You think it’s probably for the best to try and head up to the surface and you make your way up to the next floor.
It’s packed with people here too, but relatively peaceful, especially when you compare it to the pandemonium taking place beneath your feet. Still, you can make out the undeniable hum of displeasure resonating throughout the crowd. People complaining about how uncomfortable their costumes are, people complaining about how much they want to go home, people complaining about how much their nights have been ruined because they couldn’t meet up with their friends and—
A thought hits you like an eight car train.
You were supposed to meet up with your friends.
That’s why you were on the platform in the first place— you were waiting for them to arrive, but then the trains stopped working, and people just started pouring into the station out of seemingly nowhere (you think you heard some people say they’d come from the crossing?). Soon after that is when everything went to shit.
You check your phone, though, for once it’s not to look at the time (8:56PM). Instead, you open LINE to check your friends’ group chat. There’s no signal here, for whatever reason, so if there are any new messages, you haven’t received them. The last one was from Kei, mentioning he was enroute, but as far as you know, you’re the only one who made it to Shibuya before the trains stopped.
Did one of them maybe make it here though? Surely, you would have run into them if—
The image of a woman in a magical girl costume fills your vision, burning to death before your very eyes as her screams echo in your ears. It is the first time in what feels like forever that you’ve thought about her and your stomach churns violently. You couldn’t help her, you can’t even help yourself, so how could you even expect to do the same for your friends if they were here? The mere thought of having to watch them die over and over is almost enough to send you over the edge. You don’t know if you could do it.
Would you even have a choice?
No. You can't think like that. You have choices. You've had choices. If you didn’t then, you would still be down below, among the fire and brimstone. Dying, if not dead already. However, instead, you are up here, where, for the moment, it is quiet and peaceful.
That thought, in of itself, is enough to give you a shred of solace, a glimmer of hope.
You take a deep breath and fiddle with your phone a little more, changing your lock screen to a picture you and your friends took at a photo booth not too long ago. The four of you are huddled together, faces squished as if you're all struggling to fit in the frame, despite there being plenty of room. You're mid-laugh because it's the first time you've been in a photo booth in years, Mio and Shin are grinning mischievously and finally, Kei is smiling, but only just slightly, the embarrassment clear on his face. It's probably only been a few months since you all took this picture, but the fact that it feels like it's been years makes your heart ache.
You press your forehead to the screen, like a prayer, like a promise.
You will make it out of this nightmare.
No matter what.
A shrill scream yanks you from your thoughts and you are instantly on your feet, alert as your eyes flit around frantically to identify the source. It doesn't take long for you to find it and when you do, you think you might have stumbled upon a new layer of horror to this nightmare.
It’s not the corpse, dangling by a noose, that terrifies you— by now you’ve seen dozens upon dozens of dead bodies that the sight of just one more doesn’t faze you in the slightest. The thing that’s the most mortifying, that’s the most disturbing is that right next to where the body is tied are two girls, two teenage girls still dressed in their school uniforms.
You can accept monsters and weirdly dressed men being responsible for the carnage tonight, but children too? Both girls look like they’re barely in high school and try as you might to rationalize things, to chalk it up to coincidence, you cannot ignore the ominous energy radiating from them.
The very notion that these two children could have killed someone here is a hard pill to swallow, but so is the fact that you’ve died.
And you’ve had to swallow that pill thirty times now, so what’s once more?
“Listen up!” one of the girls yells over the crowd, but she is mostly ignored; you don’t think everyone here has noticed her and the corpse dangling from the rafters. She scowls and turns to the other girl and says something quietly to her. The other girl nods and almost instantly she’s stringing up another person, another example. You want to look away so badly, and yet you cannot bring yourself to and you watch the poor soul choke to death.
“I said listen, you dumb monkeys!” the girl shouts, and this time she’s caught most of the crowd’s attention. “If you don’t want to end up like these two, you’ll listen to what we have to say!”
There is clear dissent among the crowd, people dismissive as they utter their disbelief. Some seem to think it’s a prank, but you know better. It takes two more examples before the crowd goes silent before the two high schoolers.
“About damn time!” The girl roars and then points toward the atrium, which is currently covered by roots and branches. “All of you move over there!”
You have a bad feeling about this.
Still, you comply; the girls have made it abundantly clear that failure to do so will result in death, though, at this point, you're almost certain this iteration is a bust and death is all but imminent. You try to keep positive— thinking you can at least gather information or, who knows, maybe there's a chance that this one is the one.
Yet when you step onto the mound of vines and branches that cover the atrium it feels as if you've crossed the threshold into hell. Your footing is stable… but for how long?
An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.
It's faint, but you can hear the announcement from below. The liquid in your stomach curdles at the sound as you recall the train and, in particular, what is on board. Soon enough, those monsters will be swarming the platform, massacring everyone in reach, guzzling down their blood, feasting on their flesh—
It dawns on you that the people on the platform are the monsters' first course.
And you, and those around you here in the shrubbery, are the second.
As you realize this, the branches and vines disintegrate beneath your very feet and suddenly you are mid air— falling, falling into the abyss below.
You die for the thirtieth time.
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It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
You've done this nearly sixty times now.
After countless failures, you've decided that you're just not going to go upstairs any more. No matter where you try to go, you still end up herded onto the death trap above the platform where you ultimately fall to your death. You've tried positioning yourself in the same spot, tried bracing yourself for the drop— but nothing seems to work: upon landing, assuming you manage to land without hurting yourself or dying in midair (which has happened a couple times) you get grabbed and killed by one of the monsters from the train. It's probably not impossible, you just don't have the physical prowess or reflexes for it.
If anything, you can try again later, but you sincerely hope you don't have to.
It's 8:32PM, and you have plenty of time to get to your chosen spot for this loop— it's close to the stairs, in the very center of the platform. Here, there's little risk of getting pushed off onto the tracks when the gates open. You'll probably have to move when the train comes, or even before (assuming you survive) to avoid the monsters, but you'll get to that when it's time.
You can't really see the fight once it breaks out after Satoru Gojo arrives, but you still try to keep track of it as best as you can. You see when he hurls both monsters across the platform and you're not sure if it's muscle memory or what but you have to fight the urge to move to the side and watch. It's been a while, yes, but you've seen the fight countless times before— it doesn't change. Satoru Gojo will give chase. He will rip the branches from the branch eyed monster's skull. He will use some kind of power to eviscerate them.
You don't need to watch, but there's something in you that wants to.
It doesn't make sense, you've seen it all before; if you're unlucky you'll see it all again.
The lights go out and people start screaming; Satoru Gojo is ending the life of that one monster. Soon enough he'll be back on the platform, in pursuit of the other. You think at that point it would be good to move, reposition yourself as far from the incoming train as possible.
When he rises from the tracks like a demon straight from hell, you realize it's the first time this loop that you've actually gotten a good look at him. You remind yourself, again, that this isn't the first time you've seen this man, this scene. You can't help but watch, but stare at Satoru Gojo as he stalks through the crowd in pursuit of his prey. His expression is an eerie sort of calm that's at odds with the acts of violence you've seen him commit— his eyes an unnaturally bright blue.
He's a terrifying sort of beauty and you can't help but be captivated by him.
An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.
The sound of the announcement sends your heartbeat into a frenzy, snapping you out of your little trance. The train is coming and you need to get moving. As you dart to the edge of the platform, the thought occurs to you that even if you avoid the initial wave of monsters, it's likely you will inevitably be caught by them and killed. It wouldn't be impossible for Satoru Gojo to turn his attention to them instead of the two he's currently facing, but he's just one man— can he truly defeat all those monsters?
You can see the train pulling in and you brace yourself, praying that it'll work out somehow.
The doors hiss open and the screaming starts again as the monsters come bursting out of the train, biting and mauling anyone they can get their hands on. Those who were lucky enough to not be at the front start to scramble away and the monsters give chase. Your body is taut, ready to try and dodge any that come your way.
Out of the corner of your eye you notice something moving through the air. A person? With blue hair? You take the risk to look— they're attacking Satoru Gojo. He tries to punch them but they fly away from him to dodge— disappearing into the crowd.
You hear a loud cracking sound over the cacophony of the crowd and your stomach twists; you know what that sound is. The roots above the atrium disintegrate and bodies from above start to rain down onto the platform.
And then, you're not sure what happens— it's so quick that you only manage to see what looks like an explosion of blood surrounding Satoru Gojo. Corpses litter the ground around him and even from here you can tell he is shaken by the carnage.
The monsters have finally reached where you're standing, and you duck under one as it lunges at you. Although it's big and scary, you realize it's moving kind of slow. Right after it another one comes at you and you take a side step to avoid it; this monster is kind of slow too.
Maybe you can do this.
As soon as you think that a strange feeling courses through you. Every hair on your body feels like it's standing on edge and the voice in your head is telling you to look at Satoru Gojo. You don't understand why because you think he's the least of your worries right now, but you do it anyway.
He's in some sort of stance, one hand raised to his face, fingers bent in some kind of gesture. There's some sort of aura, oppressive and frightening emanating from his form.
Satoru Gojo is doing something.
You just can't tell what.
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It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
And you are utterly confused.
Barring your first few loops when you weren't fully aware of what was happening, you have very distinct memories of how each of your previous iterations of this night have gone— of each and every one of your deaths. But for your last round, the last thing you remember was feeling the immense power radiating from Satoru Gojo's body, but that's it.
You do not remember dying.
In fact, you don't think you did.
And yet, here you are again, back at the start: it's 8:32PM and the monsters and strangely dressed man are standing on the subway tracks waiting for the arrival of Satoru Gojo.
You don't understand what's going on; you didn't die but you're still stuck in this damn loop. Up until now, your death has served as the trigger to restart the loop. It's not impossible that maybe you suffered a quick and painless death but you're almost certain that isn't the case.
Something else must have happened.
Something having to do with Satoru Gojo.
You have to find out what. If you don't, you won't know how to avoid it, and if you can't do that, then you really might spend an eternity stuck in this nightmare. And so you take great care to repeat the steps of your last round. You need to make sure to survive to the same point you made it to last time.
Miraculously, you do.
The moment you feel that sensation again, a prickling sort of feeling that envelops your entire body, your eyes are on Satoru Gojo— trying to figure out what the hell he's doing. His eyes are crazed with a desperate kind of focus. You see his mouth move— he's saying something. A spell? A prayer? A curse?
You don't know.
You do know.
Your brain feels like it's going to explode.
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Again.
It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
Again.
You do not know how many times it's been the night of Halloween in Shibuya: you stopped counting around the hundredth loop. It feels like it's been a while since then. Or maybe it hasn't? You don't know any more.
What you do know is that this night ends up going one of two ways before you are forced to repeat it. Either you die, in some way, shape or form or something happens just after nine that forces you to reset. You still don't know what it is exactly; you only know that Satoru Gojo is responsible for it.
You do prefer it to dying— it's far less painful.
But if anything, you wish you could just die permanently and never have to repeat this night ever again.
Unfortunately, you know better.
The only good thing you’ve noticed about all of this is that you really do seem to keep waking up earlier and earlier. The last time you checked, it was at around 8:30. It might take hundreds of thousands of loops, but eventually you’ll certainly wake up early enough to avoid this damn entire mess.
But by the time that happens… will your sanity still be intact? Will you really be able to go back to a normal day to day life after living the equivalent of hundreds of years, repeating the same night over and over again? You don’t even know how you’ve managed to stay sane all this time and as much as you want to believe you could do it…
There has to be a breaking point.
For both your mind and this time loop.
If you’re lucky, you’ll reach the latter first.
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There’s a dull ache in your head that feels foreign yet familiar. Your mind is foggy, all your thoughts hazy as you try to recall what the word for this feeling is.
Groggy.
It feels as if you’ve woken up from a nap and you blink the sleepiness away from your eyes. When was the last time you took a nap? It’s been a while… You think you maybe tried once or twice, but you were too nervous, too on edge. Awake or asleep, it didn’t matter because, either way, you were doomed to repeat this nightmare.
As you think this, you realize that something is different.
You’re used to how the start of each loop feels like waking up suddenly and abruptly and it becomes clear to you that you haven’t looped. This is completely uncharted territory.
You need to find out what’s going on.
The first thing you notice is that it’s quiet. Almost eerily so, especially when the last thing you remember was screaming and chaos. You glance around you and find that it looks like all the monsters from the train are dead, the ground littered in their bloodstains and corpses. There were so many of them, you don’t know how someone could have wiped them out so quickly… Could it possibly have been Satoru Gojo’s doing?
More concerning than the complete eradication of the monsters is the fact that nearly everyone else on the platform is standing stock still, their mouths ajar with blank expressions on their faces. It’s almost as if their souls have completely vacated their bodies…
Were you like that too before you woke up?
You hear voices, and your body immediately goes tense as you turn your head in their direction. A little ways ahead of you, you see a man dressed as a monk conversing with the blue haired person from earlier and before them is—
Your heart nearly stops: it’s Satoru Gojo, restrained and on his knees.
Honestly, you can’t make heads or tails of the conversation they’re having; it’s more shounen battle manga nonsense. Satoru Gojo doesn’t seem to be enjoying their conversation either, and he interrupts them, clearly annoyed.
“Are we gonna do this or what?” he asks. “The view sucks and I’m just kinda bored.”
“I wanted to enjoy this sight for a little bit longer, but you are right,” the monk says. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen— gate, close.”
When he says that, Satoru Gojo’s restraints move, the weirdly shaped cubes at the ends of them closing in around him, trapping him in a giant red cube. It starts to shrink until it’s small enough to fit in the monk’s hand.
You gulp and hope they don’t notice that you’re awake. The fact that they haven’t slaughtered the rest of the people standing around you is a good sign, but you don’t want to find out what happens if they know you’re cognizant.
It’s not hard to play the part of a living statue, especially when you compare it to everything else you’ve had to suffer through on this night. You watch as the monk’s allies, the ones who had attacked everyone on the platform, wake up, but before they can do or say anything, the box holding Satoru Gojo slips through the monk’s fingers and makes a dent in the concrete. The look on the monk’s face makes it clear that it’s a problem he wasn’t expecting.
You don’t know a damn thing about Satoru Gojo, but you feel like this kind of thing is the norm for him.
The blue haired person suddenly looks in your direction and you nearly stop breathing. Have they noticed you? It takes everything in you to keep perfectly still, in hopes that maybe they didn't, that maybe they’re looking at something else. They raise their arm and it extends, their hand acting like some kind of projectile. You almost shut your eyes and brace yourself for impact, but their hand flies upwards and hits something on the ceiling, destroying it.
Inwardly, you breathe a sigh of relief— you’re still safe.
For now.
You listen to their following conversation and while you still don’t fully understand everything, it’s clear they’re talking about what to do next since they’ve taken care of Satoru Gojo. Something having to do with someone named Yuji Itadori? The group seems split on what to do about him but it’s clear he’s their next target.
Eventually, everyone but the monk (you heard the blue haired person, who is apparently named Mahito, call him Geto?) runs off, probably to find this Yuji Itadori person. Once they’re gone, Geto speaks and, at first, you think he’s talking to you, but it becomes clear he’s addressing someone else. “Those cursed spirits are actually smarter than the two of you.”
“Give him back!” a voice hidden among the crowd hisses. Your blood runs cold at the sound. You recognize it; it’s one of the high school girls from the upper floor.
“We cooperated with you fully and kept dropping monkeys for you,” says another voice; it must be the other girl that was with her, the one who hung all those people.
“Now give us back Master Geto’s body like you promised!”
“Don’t toy with Master Geto any further than you have!”
You blink in confusion. Isn’t the monk named Geto? The way the girls are talking it sounds like they’re talking about someone else… Is it possible that the body is ‘Geto’ but the person they’re talking to is someone else possessing it? It sounds kind of crazy, but then again, so is every single thing you’ve experienced tonight.
Your suspicions concerning this ‘Geto’ are confirmed only seconds later as he says, “Now begone, or is it your desire to be killed by this body?”
One of the girls vows her revenge and you hear shuffling somewhere else in the crowd as they scurry away. Now you think it’s just you and whoever it is that’s puppeting Geto’s body. You see him plop down in front of the box (the prison realm, you think he’d called it) that’s holding Satoru Gojo.
“You can come out, you know,” he says after a while.
You freeze. The rest of the platform is completely silent. This time you think he might actually be talking to you.
“I know you’re there,” ‘Geto’ adds, his voice casual. “If you’re insistent on hiding, you should know that I’m not afraid of using whatever means necessary to smoke you out.”
Given everything his allies have done, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s serious. You were hoping to hide out among the crowd until he decided to leave, but it looks like you won’t be able to now.
Looks like this loop is a bust after all.
Your heart starts to race as you weave your way through the crowd. In every single one of your loops, you were always treated like a bit character, never noticed or singled out by any of the major players of the night. Although this is your first time encountering this ‘Geto’ it’s clear to you that he’s involved with everything that’s happened here and honestly, you get the feeling he might actually be the mastermind behind the massacre.
That makes you even more nervous.
You come to a stop in the place where Satoru Gojo was once kneeling before he was put in that box. Now that you’re out in the open, ‘Geto’ looks you over with some sort of nonchalant curiosity.
“You’re…” he starts, sounding thoughtful, "not a sorcerer, are you?”
Sorcerer. You heard that term thrown around by him and his group a few times. It’s what they’ve been referring to their enemies as. It probably wouldn’t be smart to lie and say you are one; you get the feeling he’d see through your lie anyway. “I’m not.”
He hums. “How interesting.”
“...what do you mean?” you ask before you can help yourself.
“It’s just you have an abnormally large amount of cursed energy for a non-sorcerer,” he explains. “Though, I suppose that all just sounds like gibberish to you."
You nod and look down at the box lodged in the floor. It has eyes, big creepy looking eyes. "...are you going to do the same thing to me as you did to that man?"
He laughs, "...fortunately for you, the prison realm only holds one person at a time and I need him sealed away more than you."
"...does that mean you're going to leave him in there forever?"
"If I'm feeling nice, I might unseal him in a hundred years or so."
One hundred years? At this point, you've probably lived roughly that amount of time through your loops alone, but for Satoru Gojo… "Won't he die first?"
"Only if he decides to," 'Geto' says, looking completely and wholly unbothered. "Time doesn't doesn't flow in the box, so when I unseal him, he'll be the same as he was just now. Physically anyway. Who knows how deteriorated his mind will be after all that."
Time doesn't flow in the box.
The words echo in your mind over and over. Time doesn't flow in the box. In other words, that means time has stopped in the box, and if that's the case then—
"Anyway, rather than worry about him, shouldn't you be more worried about yourself?"
You look at 'Geto' and he's smiling at you, it's friendly, but ominous. There's no doubt what is going to happen next, though you had already resigned yourself to this iteration being a bust; it was only a matter of time.
Time doesn't flow in the box.
"I was thinking I might keep you around, even if you aren’t a sorcerer, your wealth of cursed energy would serve my plans well," he muses. "But… it would be too much trouble trying to teach you how to use it in time."
As he talks, you realize this is probably the first time your death is intentional— every other death you've suffered has just been a byproduct of the ongoing slaughter. You were just another casualty, a victim, never a target.
You're scared.
Even though you know that once he kills you, once you die, you'll just loop back to around 8:30 again. You'll be on the platform again. And you'll play out some sequence of events before you eventually die again. And again and again.
Time doesn't flow in the box.
"I'll be nice, though," 'Geto' says, raising a hand and another monster appears out of nowhere. You don’t even bother trying to figure out from where. It doesn’t matter, especially since this monster will surely be the one to end your life. "I'll make it painless."
"...I appreciate it," you say and close your eyes hoping that he's not lying about it.
Time doesn't flow in the box.
He didn't lie.
You die again.
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It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
And you're trapped.
You don't know how and you don't know why, but you are stuck in a time loop— forced to suffer through the horrific events of the night before you die and begin it all again. It's been a long time since you stopped counting how many loops you've gone through, but if you had to guess, it's probably somewhere in the hundreds now.
You are so very tired.
But it doesn't stop. It won't stop no matter what you seem to do. You are stuck. You are trapped. You are doomed.
“Time doesn't flow in the box.”
Ever since that first loop where you heard whoever is possessing Geto's body say that, the words have been stuck in your head, playing on loop.
You finally realize why.
“Time doesn't flow in the box.”
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It's 8:25PM when you wake up; that should be plenty of time.
You need to find Satoru Gojo.
After hundreds of loops you've come to a singular conclusion: you need to prevent him being sealed in the prison realm. You've witnessed it enough to know that you won't be able to do it alone; you'll need his cooperation.
You rush upstairs as fast as you can, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine as you step onto the stairwell. According to your previous loops, Satoru Gojo arrives on the subway tracks at 8:40PM. With how crowded the upper floor is, you don’t know if you’ll have the time to intercept him and talk to him, but if you can at least figure out where to find him, then you can try and talk to him during a subsequent loop.
When you reach the fourth basement floor, however, you don’t know where you should even start. He’s pretty tall so you think you could spot him in the crowd, but… there are still so many people. It occurs to you that maybe it would be better to try and look from a higher vantage point so you head to the stairs that lead up to the third basement floor. You check your phone again. It’s 8:35PM; you need to hurry.
Luckily for you, you find him very easily on the third basement floor.
The only problem is that he’s in a hard to reach spot— squatting above a sign hanging over the crowd.
You check your phone again. It’s 8:38PM and he’s starting to move, presumably to meet with those waiting for him on the subway tracks. It’s good that you found him, but there’s no doubt about it.
You’re going to need more time.
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The moment you wake up, you immediately bolt toward the stairs. It's taken many, many more loops, but you've finally brought the time you wake down to around 8:15. You're still not sure if it's enough time, but there's only one way to find out.
You barrel your way up to the next floor and zig zag through the crowd to get to the next flight of stairs. By the time you get to your destination, you're completely out of breath, your chest heaving as your lungs clamor for air. You’ve done this so many times, yet your body acts like it’s always the first. It sucks, but there’s nothing you can do about it. You slow to a brisk pace to catch your breath and check the time. It’s 8:27— a new record. Hopefully it’ll be enough.
The goal is to catch Satoru Gojo before he moves to his lookout point above the crowd. While not impossible, it would be difficult for you to follow him there. You eye the safety barricade that blocks off the area where he’ll be moving in just a few minutes warily.
Yes, getting over there would be extremely difficult.
You don’t want to think about it right now; you’ll deal with it when the time comes.
Especially since Satoru Gojo has now entered your field of vision.
Your heart starts to race at the sight of him and it feels like it’s beating a million times a second. There isn’t a lot of time. You need to talk to him, but your legs only wobble, your feet planted firmly to the ground. This is not good. You need to move. You need to move.
Finally, after what feels like both an instant and an eternity, your feet finally budge, propelling you in Satoru Gojo’s direction. The beating of your heart only grows louder as you make your way toward him, mingling with the single thought that’s echoing throughout your mind right now: will he even hear you out?
You need to make him.
“Excuse me!” The words nearly come out in a stutter as you realize that you are actually talking to Satoru Gojo. You have watched this man at a distance for so long that it almost felt like he wasn’t real, like he was just another fixture in this nightmare that you’ve been living for far too long. And yet, here he is, right in front of you, in the flesh.
And his attention is on you.
All sound stops: the crowd around you, the thoughts in your head, the beat of your heart. Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is actually a little overwhelming. Your mouth is dry and suddenly you don’t know what to say, but you need to say something. You need to say something before he thinks maybe you bumped into him by accident and just walks away without a word.
“I need to talk to you!” The words just burst out from your mouth and something about it is just absolutely embarrassing. You’re not sure if it's desperation or the fact that you haven’t really talked to anyone other than the existence occupying Suguru Geto’s body in nearly forever.
Satoru Gojo’s lips slowly start to form a smile, “Oh, yeah?”
The sound of his voice makes your mind go blank. There’s something different about it right now; more playful, amused even. Maybe it’s because he’s talking to you, a harmless human being and not a monster trying to kill him. It’s almost kind of jarring, but you know, with certainty, what Satoru Gojo’s voice sounds like. And the fact that he’s actually talking to you right now has you kind of excited. You nod, doing your best to not show how thrilled you are that he’s not ignoring you.
He hums thoughtfully, “Sorry… but unfortunately I kind of have some business to attend to right now.”
“I—” You start to say that you know that he’s headed down to the platform below to fight with…Choso and Jogo, you think their names are— you don’t know the name of the monster with the branches for eyes. “It’s— it’s really important!”
Gojo tilts his head a little, clearly thinking. You should probably say something else, something to try and convince him to stay a little longer and hear you out, but your mind is both full and blank. Where do you start? From the beginning? Or do you start with what is most important? Maybe you should say what you think will get his attention. You’re not sure, and you realize you really should have thought about this earlier because you’re running out of time right now.
“...mind handing me your phone?”
You stare at Gojo, completely and wholly confused, but he just holds out his hand expectantly. When you don’t move, he wiggles his fingers a little, a silent gesture telling you to hurry it up. Without thinking, you reach into your bag and unlock your phone before handing it to him.
“Kind of sucks that cell service isn’t working right now,” he remarks as he types something into your phone before handing it back. “But! Here's my number.”
You look down at your phone and, sure enough, Satoru Gojo has added himself as one of your contacts. He’s even added a little star to the end of his name. That’s… a little unexpected. Why his number though?
“Are you… hitting on me?” you mutter in your confusion.
He laughs, “Well, you said you had something really important to talk to me about, right? So just give me a call when you get home or some time tomorrow and we can talk then!”
You’re not going to make it home, or even to tomorrow, and neither will Satoru Gojo. As you start to tell him this, he steps past you. Desperate, you try to grab him, but somehow, for some reason, you can’t. You remember he did this with Jogo and the other monster, made himself untouchable.
This is not good.
He gives you a little wave, cheery as he says, “I’ll talk to you later!”
You watch, helpless as he hops over the barricade beyond your reach.
Gripping your phone tightly, you take a deep breath. It's fine, it's not like you didn’t expect things to go well anyway.
You'll just have to try again.
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Every time you’ve tried to solicit help from Satoru Gojo, it has gone the same way. He just won’t give you the time of day, and in some ways you can’t blame him; he’s clearly here to deal with the monsters down on the platform. You’re fairly certain that he probably thinks that whatever is going on with you is a much lesser issue in comparison.
Plus, it probably doesn’t help that in the times that you’ve approached him, you haven’t been able to articulate yourself particularly well. Once you start talking to him, you just get hit with something akin to stage fright and the connection between your mind and your mouth just stops working. It’s gotten better with each attempt, but…
It’s just so frustrating.
It is interesting that Gojo has given you his number every time, star symbol and all. You’re not sure what kind of person you were expecting him to be, but after witnessing him literally and viciously rip monsters apart, you’d figured he’d be a little more somber. However, in the fragmented conversations you’ve had with him he’s come off as far more friendly and playful than you would have thought. Is he the type of person to get more serious when the situation calls for it? You can’t help but wonder, but ultimately, it doesn’t really matter.
What really matters is that you’re able to convince him to help you.
You have to convince him.
“Excuse me!” you say, stepping in Satoru Gojo’s path. You don’t stutter this time, and your voice is more sure. This is good.
“Yes?”
His head turns in your direction and you gulp. Gojo’s gaze, despite that blindfold of his, still feels just as overwhelming as it did the very first time you approached him. You have no doubt that he’s sizing you up, but there’s just something about it that makes you feel like you’re being picked apart.
You take a deep breath and step closer to him, hoping your voice sounds firm enough as you say, “I need your help. I’m trapped.”
He chuckles a little, “I know, but yours truly is on his way to go beat up the bad guys keeping you all trapped here, so soon enough you’ll be all free to go on your merry little way.”
Right. You were so caught up in your own plight that you nearly forgot that technically you’re not the only one ‘trapped.’ Satoru Gojo obviously knows that everyone else is confined to this station, but you doubt he knows that you’re confined to this night alone.
“That’s not what I mean!” you sputter.
“Then what do you mean?” Gojo asks. Should you tell him that you mean that you’re trapped in a time loop? You’re honestly not sure— in the movies and manga you’ve read about time travel, revealing that sort of thing risks creating a time paradox which seems to be a bad thing. If you have to tell him, you will, but— “Oh, I get it.”
You stare, bewildered. Did you maybe just spew all of that aloud?
Gojo gives you a mischievous smile. “You’re hitting on me, aren’t you?”
“No!” The word comes flying out of your mouth. You can’t deny he’s attractive— you’ve thought it all this time, but that is not what’s happening here.
“No need to be embarrassed,” he continues, ignoring you. “I totally get it, so if you want, I’d be happy to give you my number!”
Again? You’ve received Satoru Gojo’s contact details in every loop you’ve talked to him, star symbol and all— you even have his number memorized. There’s something kind of odd about how he keeps giving you his number. Part of you wonders if he’s got some sort of ulterior motive, but you haven’t thought too deeply about it. There are way more important things going on.
“I don’t need your phone number,” you say. “I need to talk.”
Your response seems to give Gojo pause. Did you somehow manage to get through to him? No way. Your suspicions are all but confirmed when he gives you that familiar apologetic smile.
“Like, I said, I’m sort of in the middle of something, but…” Gojo reaches into his pockets and rummages around until one hand fishes out a folded up piece of paper. The other hand keeps digging around in his pocket and when Gojo seems to give up on whatever he’s looking for, he turns his attention back to you. “Got a pen?”
What?
Gojo tilts his head. “Well?”
“I do, but…” You trail off, unsure why he’s asking.
He holds out his hand waiting for you to just hand him the pen. You still don’t get it, but you reach into your bag’s front pocket and pull out the pen and hand it to him. Gojo looks almost like an excited child when he takes it from you, quickly scribbling something onto his paper before shoving it and your pen back into your hand.
You look at the paper; it looks like a receipt. For a disturbing amount of mochi that Gojo bought earlier today. The amount of money he spent is almost sickening; way too much to be paying for mochi. More importantly, you notice something juxtaposed over the receipt’s print.
It’s Satoru Gojo’s name and number.
He even drew a little star next to his name.
“If you change your mind later, just give me a call!” he tells you cheerily. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while!”
You gawk at him. He cannot be serious. You literally just told him that you didn’t need it and yet he still gave it to you. He must want you to contact him later, but you can’t even begin to understand why. It can’t have been something you said or did, right? Unless, he’s actually—
“Later!” Gojo’s voice cuts through your thoughts and you notice him walking off with a wave.
You can’t let him get away.
Again.
You crush the receipt in your hand and rush after him. Despite the crowd, Gojo seems to move through the people with ease and it almost seems like they are yielding to him naturally. It’s good for you. Makes him easier to chase.
“Wait!” you yell, but Gojo doesn’t even look back. Bastard. Your muscles strain as you try to run faster. You know you won’t be able to grab him if you get to him, but there has to still be something you can do to stop him. Circle around him? Cut him off before he—
Satoru Gojo reaches the barricade.
“Wait!” you yell again. “Satoru Gojo, wait!”
He does not even acknowledge you.
You’re almost there though. Almost. If you reach out your hand, then maybe, maybe you can grab him. Something in your head tells you that it’s useless; you’ve never been able to touch him. But, you don’t care, you don’t care because you have to try. You stretch out your hand, desperate and hoping, but just as you do, Gojo effortlessly jumps over the barricade, moving to survey the crowd.
Due to your momentum, you almost collide into the barricade, but you manage to stop yourself. You stare at Satoru Gojo through the glass. He watches the crowd for at most three minutes. Is this just another bust? Is there really nothing you can do? There must be a way you can get his attention. Is it possible to climb over the barricade? No, it’s too high. There’s nothing you can grasp onto or use as footing either.
This fucking sucks.
Another minute or two and Gojo will be on the move again, and there will be no way you can follow, no way you can get his attention. You press your hands against the glass, pushing against it. Naturally, it doesn’t budge. Why would it? If only you could get it out of the way. If only you could break it. This stupid barricade is the only thing between you and Satoru Gojo and there’s no way you can climb it, but if only you could break it.
If only you could fucking break it.
Suddenly, the glass feels warm. Satoru Gojo’s image starts to look a little distorted as the warmth beneath your fingers grows. Something is happening. The glass starts to vibrate and shake. Violently. The tremors grow stronger and stronger. You should stop. You should back away.
You don’t.
The barricade starts to crack and fracture and soon the sound of shattering glass resounds throughout the entire room. Everyone starts screaming. No one knows what’s going on— not even you. But you don’t care. It’s gone. The barricade is gone.
You take a step forward, toward Satoru Gojo. He’s on a beam that’s about a two meter drop from where you’re standing. That’s fine. That’s okay. You can make it. You have to. Without a second thought, you jump—
And you land on the beam. You look up and Satoru Gojo’s attention is back on you. He’s finally, finally turned toward you, face twisted into an expression you can’t decipher or even comprehend, but—
Something’s wrong; your world is turning on its axis, but—
Satoru Gojo is looking at you, and—
Up is very quickly becoming down, and—
Satoru Gojo is coming closer, but—
You’re slipping—
But he’s right there, and—
You’re falling, but—
He’s trying to catch you, but—
It’s too late. It’s too late.
The last thing you think you feel—
—is Satoru Gojo’s arms around you.
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It’s October 31, 2018— Halloween in Shibuya.
And you are causing a commotion.
“Shit! Fuck!” you curse loudly. The people near you start to shift away but you barely notice; you don’t really care.
You were so close, so fucking close and yet… yet here you are again. It’s quarter past eight and you are back on the goddamn platform. You don’t know what happened; you remember falling and thinking you were going to die, but you are absolutely certain that, once again, this time, you didn’t die.
Is Satoru Gojo at fault again? Did he do something? Like he did all those other times you looped without dying? When you think about it more, you don’t think so. You don’t know what happened; all you know is that you tried to get to him, but you slipped.
And he caught you, you definitely remember that.
You still don’t understand why you looped, but there’s not much you can do about it now; it’s not like you can go back anymore. It just sucks, because you think he might have actually listened if you’d talked to him.
Or he would have come after you for… whatever happened with the barricade. It could have been taken as an attack on the crowd… But if he thought you were doing that, then why would he catch you?
You don’t know.
All you know is that you have to try again.
The only problem is that you don’t know how you managed to shatter the barricade. You think about it as you make your way up to where you’ll find Satoru Gojo. There is the possibility that it wasn’t you and something else happened to it instead, but that feels way too coincidental. It had to be you. That’s the only thing that makes sense. You just can’t figure out how you did it outside of wanting, wishing, praying for the barricade to break. It’s not like you have supernatural powers like Satoru Gojo and his enemies.
Despite your mind being completely and wholly occupied by trying to figure out how in the world you managed to break through that barricade, you still manage to make it to the second basement floor of Shibuya Hikarie by 8:25PM— a brand new record. Satoru Gojo doesn’t show up until around 8:34PM, so that gives you almost ten minutes to try and figure out what you need to do to try and replicate shattering the glass barricade again.
Except—
Except Satoru Gojo is already here.
The thought that maybe you’re mistaken flashes in your mind before it’s quickly dismissed; there’s no way you’d mistake anyone else for him. There is absolutely no denying it: that is Satoru Gojo. Bewildered, you double check the time on your phone. Maybe you misread it and you’re actually late but sure enough you read it right— Satoru Gojo is here early.
What the hell is going on?
Of the thousands of times you have experienced this night, this hell, this sort of thing has never happened before. Everything happens at a specific time, as if adhering to an unseen schedule. It’s likely that what happened in your last iteration did delay Satoru Gojo’s arrival onto the platform, but other than that there has never been a deviation to the time table.
And yet, here Satoru Gojo is, nine minutes early now.
You realize that that’s not the only thing that’s strange: he’s not moving. In previous rounds, when you encounter Gojo here, he’s walking to the lookout spot beyond the barricade. But, right now, he’s just standing there, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. It almost looks like he's waiting for something.
Or someone.
This unexpected turn of events has you rooted to the spot. You’re not sure what you should do. No. This shouldn’t change anything. You need to talk to him. As concerning as a change like this is, the extra time it gives you should be a good thing. Despite knowing that, your feet are still firmly planted to the ground.
The crowd shifts and you see Satoru Gojo start to move. Toward the barricade? No. He’s not heading in his usual direction, rather he’s—
You stop breathing.
He’s headed toward you.
All sound stops: the crowd around you, the thoughts in your head, the beat of your heart. Even though you cannot see them through that blindfold of his, you know that Satoru Gojo’s eyes are on you and the thought of that, the knowledge of it is absolutely mind numbing.
He comes to a stop before you, lips curled up to form an amused sort of smile as he says, “Soooo, you needed to talk to me?”
You try to answer but no words come out of your mouth. Are you dreaming? You have to be, right? There's no way that this is actually happening. Could it be that, after thousands of loops, you’ve finally lost it? Your mind shattering along with the glass of the barricade at the end of the last one?
Gojo tilts his head, indicating that he's still waiting for an answer. When you open your mouth, at first, nothing comes out, the words stuck in your throat. You force them out, your voice cracking, “...how did you know?”
He smiles, looking almost mischievous as he reaches up and lightly taps the side of his head. “I remembered, of course!”
All you can do is stare at Satoru Gojo. He remembered? How is that possible? From his perspective, this is the first time you’ve met and while it shouldn’t be possible for him to remember there’s something in your mind that’s keeping you from completely dismissing the possibility.
Gojo laughs, “I take it from the look on your face that you’re not used to this sort of thing happening. Is this the first time?”
“No.” The fact that the word is out of your mouth before you can even really think about it surprises you and you really have to think. Your face scrunches together as you try to remember. Is this really not the first time? Then, the memories assault you, overlapping as they replay simultaneously in your head— a woman in a yellow and white magical girl costume— begging you for help as she burns to death— smiling as she tells you she made her costume herself. “...it happened just once a long time ago.”
“‘A long time ago,’ huh. Sounds like you've been at this for a while now.”
“...unfortunately.”
Gojo hums. “So when you said you didn’t need my phone number…”
“You’d already given it to me a few times,” you say, figuring that’s where this conversation is going.
“Really now?”
Does he not believe you? Or is he just being an ass? You’re not sure, but since you had taken the liberty of memorizing Satoru Gojo’s phone number you recite it back to him to prove your point.
Just when you think you may have stunned Gojo into silence he starts to laugh, obviously finding something funny about the fact that you know his cell phone number. “Seems like you've got quite the fascinating technique there.”
Technique? What is he talking about? Your confusion must be plain on your face because he adds, elaborating, “The time travel.”
You continue to stare at him. You don't think you'd consider what you've been going through time travel, because traveling implies moving from point A to point B, but you've been stuck walking in circles at point A for a long time. What really gets you is… “What do you mean by ‘technique?’”
“You mean you don’t— oh. I get it; no wonder you’re trapped.”
That does not answer your question in the slightest. “Can you please explain what you're talking about? What do you mean by ‘technique?’”
“Right, right… So basically, a technique is like a special sort of power,” he finally explains. “Like I said, your technique seems to be a kind of time travel. Whenever you activate it, your mind is sent back in time.”
What he's saying makes sense, but… “How come you were sent back too?”
He laughs again. “Isn't it obvious? Think back to before— do you remember that I caught you as you were falling?”
You nod slowly. The memory of his arms around you is almost embarrassingly vivid. “...is it because we were touching?”
“Ding, ding, ding! That's correct! Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!”
Something about his tone annoys you, but you try to ignore it. He could have just told you rather than make you guess. “How do you know that for sure?”
“Well,” he continues. “You’ve done your little time loop a bunch of times, right? If your technique affected everyone, or even a few people in a select range you would have noticed for sure. And if it affected only just you then we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, now would we?”
When you think about it, you do think that the woman in the magical girl costume might have bumped into you before the loop where she remembered.
“That’s honestly just conjecture, but I've got pretty good eyes, so I’m hardly ever wrong.”
Gojo gives you a grin and while you do think that his reasoning is sound enough his confidence is a little grating. More than that, though, you’re glad that this conversation is actually going really well.
“Either way,” he says thoughtfully. “It doesn’t look like you can control your technique. Usually a person’s technique manifests when they’re a kid, but you seem to be a special case… in fact, I bet your technique activated for the very first time tonight— probably under some pretty extreme circumstances, too.”
“...dying counts as an ‘extreme circumstance,’ right?”
“Oh, absolutely. Or legitimately thinking that you’re gonna die, but it seems like your body has been unconsciously activating your technique as a sort of defense mechanism. Which is why you’re trapped.”
“So, if I could control it I’d be able to make it out of this time loop.”
“Yeah, but in this case it probably wouldn’t end very well for you,” he points out with a chuckle. “It’s not like you actually want to die, right? I mean, if you did, then your technique wouldn’t even activate in the first place.”
You don’t; what you want is for this night to finally end. To be free from the endless cycle of dying over and over again and again. You don’t think death is quite the answer; even if you were to learn how to control this supposed technique of yours, there’s no guarantee that you would just unconsciously activate it when the grim reaper comes knocking on your door. No, the answer is…
“Anyway!” Gojo’s cheery voice cuts through your thoughts. “I highly doubt that you’re the type that makes a habit of jumping off ledges for the funsies, so the fact that you’ve been dying tells me that some pretty gruesome stuff is about to go down, so, tell me what happens tonight.”
The sudden drop of his voice sends a shiver running down your spine. If it weren’t for the fact that you’ve seen how serious Gojo can get, the sudden shift in demeanor would probably freak you out a bit, but it doesn’t. This is the Satoru Gojo you’re familiar with.
You do have one concern though. “That… won’t create a time paradox or anything, will it?”
“Nah,” Gojo shrugs. “You wouldn’t cause one with the way your technique works, besides, if you’ve only been going back at most an hour or two in time it’s hard to believe you’d be making a really big impact… unless you really believe in the butterfly effect.”
You’re still not quite sure.
“Trust me, it’ll be fine.”
His voice sounds strange. Gentle. Kind. It's the most soothing thing you've heard in a long time and it makes you want to believe him.
“...okay.”
Anxiety is still gripping at you, but you try to dispel it, taking a deep breath before beginning your explanation. For the sake of brevity, it’s probably best that you’re as concise as possible. There isn’t much need to really get into the nitty gritty of things unless he asks specifically.
Naturally, you begin with his arrival onto the platform and how soon after a fight breaks out and how the crowd is unfortunate enough to be involved. Gojo’s expression is passive for the most part, but he does crack the faintest hint of a smile when you mention how he manages to eviscerate one of the monsters.
It disappears once you tell him about the arrival of the train. Between the dozens upon dozens of people being dropped onto the platform by those two high school girls and the hoard of monsters disembarking from the train, everything devolves into pandemonium.
“Wait,” Gojo holds a hand up and you pause. This is his first interruption since you started recounting the night’s events for him. “Everyone is able to see the monsters?”
You stare at him. What a weird question. “...yeah?”
His mouth twists and it looks like he’s thinking about something. You can’t even begin to imagine what. Finally, he comments, “Makes sense.”
It does not, but you don’t ask him to elaborate. Surely if it was important he would have just done so.
“Anyway, in the middle of all that, you… you do something.” Your brows bunch together as you remember the stance Gojo took, the crazed and desperate look in his eyes, the feeling of your head about to explode. “I don’t know how to describe it. At first, it would just force me to… activate my technique, I guess. But now, it just knocks me out for a few minutes.”
Gojo frowns and he rubs at his chin, obviously thinking about what you’ve said. Eventually, he raises a hand and bends his fingers into a familiar gesture. It’s the one that preludes whatever he does on the platform. “Do I do this?”
“Yeah.”
He hums. “Interesting.”
You wait to see if he’ll explain. He doesn’t. Great. Even if he doesn’t think you need to know, it certainly would be nice to. It’s annoying otherwise, but you ignore the feeling and continue. “I can’t tell you what happens when I’m knocked out, but when I come to everyone is basically a zombie and all the monsters from the train are gone. I think you kill them.”
“I probably do,” he says casually. “But what about Volcano Head?”
“...you don't…get a chance to kill him,” you say slowly. Gojo tilts his head, waiting for you to elaborate, but you hesitate. You have to tell him, you know you do, but…
You have seen the interaction so many times and though you don't know the exact nature of the relationship between them, you can tell that seeing Suguru Geto (or rather seeing his body) shook Satoru Gojo to his very core.
There's no doubt in your mind that he will not take this news well.
“Come on now,” Gojo's tone is light-hearted, unaware. “Don't keep me in suspense here.”
It's as if you're withholding the punchline to a joke. In a way, you suppose you are, but you don't think he's going to find it funny.
You take a deep breath. You need to tell him. The worst thing that could happen is that he doesn't believe you, but if that's the case… you'll probably just end up repeating this all again until you find a loop where he does.
Having made it this far, you'd like to avoid all that.
“Before you can get Volcano Head you get restrained by something called the prison realm,” you say slowly, “by someone calling themselves… Suguru Geto.”
The second the name leaves your mouth, there is a clear and obvious shift in the air. Gone is Gojo’s laid-back and frivolous demeanor, replaced with something more somber and almost frightening. The tension grows more and more palpable to the point that you think it might almost choke you.
You almost wish that it would.
“You can’t be serious,” Gojo finally says, once your words have fully sunk in.
“I—” You start to speak, but come to an abrupt stop when you see him shove his hand into his pocket to yank out his phone of all things.
The both of you know full well that there’s no reception here, but you don’t think that he’s planning on making any calls. Gojo scrolls and scrolls on his phone before he stops and shoves the screen in your face. It shows a picture of three people— a teenage girl with a cigarette in her mouth, a younger, happier version of Gojo sporting a pair of round sunglasses and—
“When you say ‘Geto’ is this who you’re referring to?” Gojo demands, using his other hand to point at the third person in the frame— a handsome young man with long dark hair pulled up into a bun.
“Yes, but—”
“That’s impossible. It can’t be him,” Gojo interrupts, his voice firm, cold even. “He’s dead.”
There’s a note of finality in his words that is definitely meant to leave no room for argument. It doesn’t stop you, though. Instead, you glare at Gojo’s stupid blindfold and say, “...being dead doesn’t mean a damn thing! I’ve died hundreds of times and yet I’m still fucking here, but—”
“Your situation is different,” he interjects, the temperature of his tone hiking up, his words like heated hissing. “I killed him almost a year ago. There's no way—”
“You didn't get rid of the body properly!” You cut him off, raising your voice in hopes that he'll take even just a second to stop and listen. It seems to work and you add something you remember ‘Geto’ saying. “You should have had Shoko Ieiri get rid of it, but you didn’t and now some… some kind of gross brain thing is possessing the corpse!”
The air between you both is silent as the grave. Though you can't see it, you can feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. He’s definitely having second thoughts about everything you’ve said so far. There’s a chance he might even think you’re his enemy now. You stare him down though, refusing to look away. You’ve made it this far, you can’t— you won’t back down.
“...you’re not lying, are you.” Gojo’s words are more of a statement than a question. There’s no doubt in your mind that he knows the answer, and yet he’s still asking. You wonder if maybe he’s clinging onto some vain hope that maybe, just maybe this all a sick, cruel joke that’s gone way too far.
“I’m not.”
Gojo holds your gaze for a second longer before he lets out a curse. “Fuck!”
“...I’m sorry,” you say quietly, mostly because it feels like the most correct thing to say at this moment. You don’t know the whole story, but it seems like they were close. If so, then it must have hurt Gojo a lot to have killed him, and must hurt even more to know that someone is desecrating the body. You hate that you, a complete and utter stranger, happened to be the person to tell him, but…
It had to be done, for the sake of getting past this unending night, it had to be done.
Gojo runs a hand through his hair and lets out a ragged sigh. “Okay. What happens after that?”
You give him a rundown of what follows; he gets sealed, the monsters wake up and all but ‘Geto’ leave in search of their next target. When you mention the high school girls demanding the brain give Geto’s body back, Gojo snorts loudly.
“Fat chance of that,” he says derisively.
You nod in agreement. It was clear to you that the brain parasite has no intent on giving it up any time soon. “After they leave, he… talks to me.”
“Probably couldn't ignore all that cursed energy you have,” Gojo remarks offhandedly.
You stare at him, expression twisted in a way that shows that you have absolutely no clue what that means. It should be fine for you to ask this one question; it actually concerns you after all. “What does that even mean?”
“Exactly what it sounds like, though… probably doesn't make much sense to you, does it?”
You give him a pointed glare and all Gojo does is laugh.
“Just think of it like having a lot of MP.”
“...Like in a video game?”
“Exactly!” Then, Gojo tilts his head, clearly thinking. You don't bother asking; you don't feel like he'll explain.
“He does ask me if I'm a sorcerer, whatever that is. Is that why?”
“Probably. Ordinary people don't have even a fraction of the energy you're packing.”
‘Ordinary people’ he says as if you’re not an ordinary person who got caught up in all this supernatural sorcery bullshit. Or at least you were, but if the time loops are really a product of your own doing…
“Does he kill you when you answer?” Gojo asks to get the conversation back on track.
“Not right away. What happens next kind of varies,” you answer. “He usually lets me have a question or two before he kills me; I've asked him a couple different things.”
“Really taking advantage, aren’t you?” Gojo says and you're not sure what to make of his tone. Is he mocking you or is he easing back into that laid-back persona of his?
“If I’m doomed to repeat the same situation over and over, I might as well make the most of it,” you respond flatly.
“You know, your technique kind of reminds me of save scumming.”
He’s definitely gone back to acting almost completely unserious— all signs of his earlier agitation are nearly gone.
“So what did you learn?”
“Well, the prison realm only holds one occupant. Once they’re sealed, time stops for them and the only way out is if the bearer unseals them or if they choose to kill themselves.”
“I see… And what about our body jacker?”
“He didn’t go into detail but he said something about… striving toward the evolution of mankind?” You frown a little at the memory. He didn’t explain further because he said that you wouldn’t understand.
“Huh. Interesting. Wonder how he was gonna go about doing that.”
“I don't know, but I can't imagine you'd like it since he goes out of his way to seal you into that box,” you say. “Said you’d get in the way because you’re too strong.”
Gojo shrugs his shoulders and grins a little. Cocky. “Well, I am the strongest sorcerer around, you know.”
You would think him overconfident if you hadn't seen the magnitude of his strength first hand.
“Anyway, that's as far as I ever go. When he's decided he’s done talking to me, he kills me and I loop back.”
“So, in short, what you want help with is getting past that point, right?”
“More or less.”
“And all I have to do is avoid getting caught by the prison realm?”
You nod.
“What’s it look like?” he asks. “A big cage with a bunch of metal bars?”
Now that you think about it, you haven’t woken up early enough to see it before it traps him, but you can’t imagine it looks that much different. “No.. It’s a small box with eyes… It gets big enough to fit you in it, though.”
“Huh.” He stretches his arms out above his head as if he’s trying to emphasize how large he actually is and shoots you a grin. “Should be easy enough then. I bet our body snatcher used the shock of seeing Suguru to trap me but since I'll see it coming, avoiding it'll be a piece of cake.”
Gojo makes it sound so easy, and maybe it really is as simple as that, but you can't help but be worried still.
“Don't tell me you don't think I can do it,” he says, tilting his head.
“It's not that,” you admit. “I'm just concerned I might die before we can get to that point.”
Truthfully, since you know that will just result in another loop you're less concerned with dying itself and more worried about losing the progress you've made in convincing Gojo to help you. Even though it's been clearly proven you can loop him as well, there's no guarantee you'll be able to make the physical contact needed to do it upon death.
“You've made it pretty far on your own, though, right?”
“Yeah, but… I’ve messed up plenty of times.” More than you can even count. “There's also the possibility that taking the time to talk to you might have thrown things out of whack.”
Speaking of time, you check your phone. It's 8:39PM. You curse.
Gojo leans over to check your phone. “Let me guess, I'm supposed to be somewhere right now.”
“Yeah, this is when you’re descending down onto the platform.”
“You know where I am down to the exact minute?” He asks and you tilt your head back and forth a little. It’s not exact per se, but it’s close enough. Gojo chuckles a little. “Man, I didn’t realize that you were actually that into me.”
That earns Gojo a glare from you, but he just laughs it off. “I doubt being a few minutes late is going to make a big difference.”
You certainly hope so.
“Don't worry,” Gojo says and you notice he's using that tone from earlier. “You won't die.”
It’s hard to argue with him when he uses such a reassuring sounding voice and yet, you still open your mouth to try— to voice your doubts, but what he says next silences you before you even can.
“I'll protect you.”
You think your heart stops beating in your chest and your words dissolve in your throat.
He grins at you. “Did you fall in love with me just now?”
That catches you a little off guard. You're willing to admit he's hot, but surely he must be joking. “How could you even think of something like that at a time like this?”
Gojo laughs again. “Well, since someone is so worried about their time table being all messed up, I better head down there; can’t keep Volcano Head and friends waiting, right?”
You blink. Is that it? “Wait, shouldn’t we make a plan or something?”
“Isn’t the plan for me to not get caught in the prison realm?”
Yes, but… “But what about me? Is there anything I can do?”
Gojo stares at you, or at least you think he does. “...I don’t know, is there?”
You’ve seen the encounter between Satoru Gojo and those monsters so many times and you try to picture a version of it where you intervene and… all you can see is yourself getting in his way. You’re no fighter, no… sorcerer, or whatever he is, you’re just some ordinary person that was unfortunate enough to get all caught up in this mess. The most you can probably do is kick the prison realm out of the way when the time comes, but otherwise… “...no, I guess not.”
His expression turns sympathetic. “You’ve done plenty by telling me everything that happens. So just wait up here, and let me handle the monsters.”
You almost nod. Almost. But then you remember what transpires up here above the platform. You know it sounds safer up here where you’re less likely to get involved in the carnage, but… “Wait, no, if I stay up here then I’ll fall to my death when those girls—”
Gojo laughs, interrupting you. “Don’t worry about that. It’ll be fine.”
“How?”
“Just trust me.”
“I…” It’s hard to. After everything you’ve gone through it’s hard to trust in anything, to believe in anything. Even though you’ve made it this far this time, the worry that something will go wrong and that you’ll have to do it all again still lurks in the back of your mind.
Despite all that, you want to believe.
You want to believe that you can make it past this unending night, that one day you’ll wake up and it’ll no longer be October 31, 2018. And the first step towards that is trusting in Satoru Gojo.
“...okay,” you say quietly. “Okay.”
Gojo chuckles then asks, “Anything else before I head off?”
You start to ask if there’s anything you should say, in case things don’t work out, but you stop yourself. You’re choosing to trust him, to believe in him— you can figure out that stuff later if things end up going south after all. So, instead you give him a smile and it feels a little weird because you don’t remember the last time you did. “Good luck!”
For a split second, Gojo looks almost surprised, but then he laughs again, beaming widely at you. He starts to move past you and reaches out to give you what you think is meant to be a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder and then he’s off. You turn to watch him go, the crowd, once again, parting almost naturally for him.
When he reaches the barricade, he pauses, raising his hand as if he’s giving you one last wave. Then he jumps over it onto his little perch and then less than a minute later he’s gone, descending to the platform below.
Now, all you can do is wait.
You check your phone again and it’s 8:44PM. If you remember correctly, the high school girls start threatening everyone right before 9PM. With Gojo’s arrival being shifted back almost five minutes, does that mean that they’ll be shifted back too? It would make sense, but you’re not too sure.
Out of habit, you keep checking your phone and at nearly 9PM, you hear the shrill voice of one of the girls over the crowd, commanding everyone to do what she says, her partner stringing up bodies until everyone listens. Everything plays out just as you remember it, which is mildly comforting, though you know that the events that happen up here are more or less independent from what happens below.
Surely, just as Gojo said, a few minutes aren’t going to change anything, but—
No.
You agreed to trust him. To trust that everything would be fine.
When the girls start to demand that as many people as possible climb onto the roots and vines covering the atrium your heart starts to hammer in your chest. In just a few minutes, all the foliage will disintegrate beneath you, and you and everyone else here will fall into the abyss below.
You are afraid.
There isn’t a single loop where you’ve really survived this fall. If you don’t die in midair, you die right after landing. It’s a death trap, and that’s why you’ve stopped coming up here. There’s a part of you, the part that knows what’s about to happen, that wants to try and run back onto stable footing. But you can’t, because you know if you do then the girls will kill you for sure; you have to stay.
It’ll be fine, you tell yourself, it’ll be okay.
You just have to trust Gojo.
An eight car train is pulling in. Please wait behind the yellow line.
You hear the announcement faintly below you. It’s almost time. You brace yourself and try to stay calm. Gojo said he would protect you, that you wouldn’t die. You don’t know how he intends to keep that promise, but all you can do is believe in his words.
It’ll be fine. It’ll be okay.
The vines and roots start to crack and the ground beneath you starts to give out. You squeeze your eyes shut as that sickening weightless feeling overtakes you. It occurs to you that this is actually quite literally a trust fall— will Satoru Gojo really be able to catch you?
As you fall, you realize almost instantly that something is different.
You’ve experienced this fall dozens of times and so, even though it has been a while since you’ve gone this route, you are very familiar with what it feels like. Something is different. You’re falling faster. The trajectory is changing. It’s like some force, other than gravity, is pulling at you.
Is this Gojo’s doing?
Just as your body collides with the ground you hear the sounds of mutilating flesh meld with the screams surrounding you. Blood and severed limbs litter the ground, but you try to ignore it. You need to focus on your own survival right now. Quickly, you scramble to your feet scan the area around you; you’re on the platform right now and right in front of you is—
Right in front of you is Satoru Gojo.
His back is turned to you, his focus currently elsewhere. Looking at him you realize you recognize this scene, though it’s much closer and at a different angle. He’s about to do that thing, that thing that knocks you out.
Something in you tells you to move closer to him, after all, he used his mysterious powers to deliberately bring you closer to him, right? You rush toward him and as you do something he said earlier pops up in your mind.
Anyone you happen to be touching when you activate your technique gets affected by it too!
Whatever he’s about to do… Is that his ‘technique?’ And if it is, would it work the same way as yours? If so, there’s only one way to find out: you need to touch him. You dodge monsters and other people as you run toward Satoru Gojo and—
A monster still manages to grab you, its large hands wrapping around your wrist. You try and yank it free, but it's much stronger than you are.
“Shit!” you hiss as the monster starts to pull you toward it and away from Gojo. What do you do? Your other hand is still free, should you try to punch it in the face? Or—
Before you can do anything, something blasts the monster’s head clean off. Shocked, you stare as the monster’s body slumps onto the ground, its grip loosening on you instantly. You whip your head around to find that while Gojo still has his back to you, his arm is bent back in your direction, his palm open as if he fired some invisible blast from it.
Then you feel it again, something pulling at you, but this time it's more forceful. Your body is yanked toward Gojo and the second you feel his hand press against you, you see him make that gesture with his other hand.
“Domain Expansion,” he whispers in a strained voice. “Infinite Void!”
Something happens and your vision flashes for a fraction of a second. And then—
The room is enveloped in an eerie stillness; all the violence and bloodshed coming to an abrupt stop. Monsters and humans alike stand like the living dead, unconscious with their eyes wide open as if they are staring into an infinite abyss. You recognize this scene, you’re familiar with it because it’s similar to the one you wake up to after being hit by Gojo’s ‘domain expansion.’ The only difference is the presence of the monsters, who are all but gone when you regain consciousness.
The pressure from Gojo’s hand is gone and he says to you, his voice still low. “If you’re squeamish when it comes to blood and gore, it might be best for you to close your eyes.”
And then he’s gone.
You do not take his advice. You do not close your eyes. How many loops were you unable to witness what’s about to unfold? A few hundred? A few thousand? And if all goes to plan, then you will never get another chance again: there’s no way you could possibly look away.
And what you see unfold before you is that Satoru Gojo was right.
He is the one to kill all the monsters.
It’s not as if you really had any doubt, after all, it seemed like the most logical conclusion to come to and yet…
There’s a difference between knowing and seeing.
All the violence resumes and the platform is engulfed in the sounds of carnage and slaughter once more. The lack of terrified screams makes everything more disconcerting— without them, all you can hear is the squelching echo of mangled flesh and blood splattering all over the place. You can’t really see him, but you can tell where Satoru Gojo is in the crowd as he leaves dozens upon dozens of decapitated heads soaring in his wake. Once or twice, he leaps out of the crowd and even from where you stand you can see the crazed glow of his inhumanly blue eyes as he massacres monster after monster.
Even though you don’t think you have anything to be scared of, you are still terrified: Satoru Gojo is no longer a man, but violence incarnate. You want to move closer to where Gojo gets trapped, but you’re afraid to. What if you get in his way? What if he kills you by accident?
Dying again when you’ve made it this far is definitely not ideal, but isn’t being killed by Gojo the best case scenario? Because then the two of you would probably loop together again and—
No.
Gojo said you wouldn’t die.
He said he’d protect you.
It’s hard to believe when he’s in the middle of a massacre, slaughtering monsters left and right, but you remind yourself yet again that you have to believe in him.
You take a deep breath and start moving, taking care to keep an eye on where Gojo is. You don’t know how long this is supposed to take, but you do know where he ends up when he’s just about done. The closer he gets to that spot, the sooner the prison realm will be unleashed upon him.
There’s a small group of zombified people nearby and you settle yourself among them. It’s not super close, but you think it's close enough that you'd be able to run over and kick the box away from Gojo if you have to. You do a quick survey to see if you can spot the body snatcher, but he's nowhere to be found. Hopefully, he hasn't noticed you moving around, or, if he has, he's more concerned with Gojo than he is with you. Given that you always seem to be the last thing he acknowledges, you'd like to think that he doesn't consider you a threat.
Which you're not, not really anyway.
The sounds of slaughter start to die down and you look to see Gojo approaching the spot where he gets caught. He looks beat, his eyes unfocused and his breathing heavy. You do another quick scan around him and notice a small box a few meters away from him, wrapped in what looks like paper charms or seals or whatever they're called. That has to be the prison realm— though it looks different than what you saw before. Gojo seems to notice it right after you do, his gaze honing in on it, examining it with some measure of bewilderment. Then, some invisible force slices through all the paper seals covering the box and it expands, the corners of the box floating up in midair to reveal what looks like a large sheet of dark red flesh with a large bloodshot eye stapled to the middle.
Disgusting.
If Gojo didn’t realize before, he seems to now, because he takes a step back, away from the grotesque thing. Good, good—
“Hey! Satoru!” Your blood runs cold at the sound of the body snatcher’s voice. He emerges from the crowd, smiling widely as he gives Gojo a wave. “Long time no see!”
Satoru Gojo’s entire body goes rigid. Shit. You told him, you warned him about what was going to happen, who he was going to see, but was that not enough? It’s possible that no amount of warning would have been enough to mentally prepare Satoru Gojo for the sight of the man he said he killed a year ago. After all, you know that there’s a stark difference between knowing and seeing. Even then, if Gojo doesn’t gather his wits and move now then he’s going to get caught and you can’t let that happen.
Your body moves before you can even think about it.
You scramble out from your hiding spot in the crowd and throw yourself in between Satoru Gojo and the prison realm. There’s no way you can kick it away from him now, not when it’s in this form, but maybe, if you get between them you can at least keep it from capturing him.
The eye quivers erratically, as it flits from Gojo to you. Every hair on your body stands on end as it watches you, the pupil dilating and contracting uncontrollably. You can’t look away from it, your own gaze fixed to your image reflected in the black abyss of the pupil. Something in the back of your mind tells you to stop, to get away, it’s dangerous, but you keep your feet firmly planted to the ground.
A second, or maybe even a minute passes and the prison realm shifts, its fleshy form morphing to restrain you.
The body jacker looks at you, his frown tinged with disgust. “Don’t you think you’re being rather rude by butting into what could have been a touching reunion?”
You scowl. Is he still trying to play the role of Suguru Geto?
He sighs and looks past you at Gojo. “Satoru, I thought bringing lesser sorcerers to fight alongside you was more trouble than it was worth?”
You hear Gojo snort from behind you, “It is… but this person here isn’t a sorcerer… Just like you aren’t Suguru Geto.”
The faker almost pouts and presses his hand to his chest as if Gojo's words have wounded him. “Satoru, I’m hurt, how could you say such a thing to your best friend?”
“Cut the bullshit,” Gojo snarls. “You can’t fucking fool me. You might be in Suguru’s body but I know with all my heart and soul that you’re not him.”
The corpse snatcher stares at Gojo, expression blank before he sighs once more. Then, his gaze shifts back to you, his eyes narrowed as he looks at you with sheer disdain. It feels as if you’ve been drenched in ice cold water. There's no smile this time but you already know what's going to happen.
He’s going to kill you.
“I intended to deal with you later since you seemed harmless enough,” he says, raising a hand to summon a monster— the same one he always uses to end your life. “But you’re in the way. So, I think it’s for the best if I just get rid of you right now.”
Instinctively, you try to take a step back but the prison realm’s restraints keep you in place. Not that it would have mattered much, even in the loops where you’ve tried to escape the faker’s monster, it still kills you, too fast and too agile for an ordinary human like you to avoid. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the monster to kill you. At least, it’s always painless.
Something touches your back.
Your eyes shoot open.
Before you is the monster, wiggling and writhing only mere centimeters from your face. It gurgles and snarls at you, desperate to fulfill its master’s wishes and kill you but it doesn’t move any closer. You stare at it with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.
Someone behind you clicks their tongue— Gojo. You try to turn your head to look at him, but your movements are too limited, the most you can do is turn your head to the side. The sounds the monster is making start to change, sounding more frenzied, almost as if it’s in pain, and you flit your eyes in its direction just in time to see its entire body explode. The monster's guts and bright purple blood fly off in every direction, getting on the floor, the ceiling, the zombified bodies of the people unfortunate enough to be nearby, but not on you.
This is Satoru Gojo’s doing.
He steps in front of you, half turned towards you as he moves in between you and the body snatcher. His hands are shoved in his pockets as he loudly says, “Did you really forget about me?”
You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or the body snatcher.
Past him, the imposter scowls, raising his hand once more, probably to summon even more monsters, but Gojo’s quicker, and it almost looks like his eyes are glowing even brighter, the blue looking almost white as he whips his head in the faker’s direction. The sound of mangling flesh and breaking bones echoes throughout the room as Gojo, using that mysterious power of his, seems to break the faker’s arm.
The body snatcher hisses loudly and despite the fact that his face is twisted in very obvious pain, he tries to shoot Gojo a mocking smile. “Do you really think you can kill your best friend again?”
“I already told you,” Gojo turns to fully face the monster inhabiting Geto’s corpse. He tilts his head a little to the side and some force starts to squeeze at the faker’s neck. “You’re not Suguru.”
You hear a loud crack as Gojo telekinetically snaps his neck.
The head rolls onto the ground and you almost look away, but then you notice his eyes still moving, looking around. Is he still alive? Then you remember: the thing possessing Suguru Geto’s body was some kind of parasite. “Gojo! Wait! The brain!”
He reacts almost instantly, head turning and in an instant the skull is crushed and all that remains is red splotch on the ground.
You almost relax. Almost.
But the body is still standing.
Horrified, you watch as it quivers violently before falling to the ground. Then what looks like dozens of black spirits start to erupt from the corpse and the entire room is engulfed with a shrill howling.
What the hell is going on?
“Those must be all the cursed spirits he consumed,” Gojo explains uselessly, voice barely audible over the screaming. “Guess he was empty before.”
You don’t bother asking what he means. There are bigger problems right now. “What do we do?”
“No choice to exorcise them,” he answers plainly.
For him to exorcise them, he means. You both know that there’s not much that you can do. You still can’t move and honestly, you don’t even know if it’s possible to get out of the prison realm’s restraints. Not without dying. And if you die now…
Everything will have been for naught.
You’ll reset time and have to do this all over again— assuming you can even get to this point again.
There has to be something, you just have to think outside the box.
Or rather—
“Gojo!”
He glances back at you.
“You need to seal me in the prison realm!” you exclaim. He turns to face you fully, looking bewildered and you start to explain as fast as you can. “Those things are going to attack any minute right? I can’t move or try to hide and I can’t expect you to protect me the entire time and if I die then I’ll end up looping time again, but— but, if you seal me in the prison realm then that won’t happen.”
Gojo frowns, looking conflicted. “You don’t think I can do it?”
“Wouldn't it be easier if you didn’t have to?”
He tilts head and you think he’s conceding your point.
“Please,” you beg, staring at him desperately. “We don’t have much time. The other… cursed spirits will wake up soon too!”
You don’t have to explain that you mean Volcano Head and friends.
It takes only a second for Gojo to consider the very few options you have. “...how do you seal it? Do you know?”
“I think so,” you answer. “There’s no guarantee it’ll work but I think that if you say ‘prison realm, gate close’ it should seal me inside.”
If anything, it’s worth a shot.
Gojo nods. “Do you know how to break the seal?”
“I… don’t,” you confess. You never asked, and you don’t think the body snatcher would have told you even if you did. He only told you that it holds one and that…
That time doesn’t flow in the box.
“...you don’t have to break the seal.”
Gojo frowns, “Wait a sec—”
“Even if I make it past tonight… What if this all happens again? What if I inadvertently trap myself in another time loop?” you ask. “I… I don’t want to have to go through all of this again. It’s better for me in a place where time doesn’t pass.”
You don’t know for sure if it’ll be better, but right here, right now, it seems like the best option.
It feels like an eternity passes before Gojo says anything.
“...fine,” he agrees and you don’t quite know how to feel about it. The howling around you all grows louder. You wonder why the cursed spirits haven’t attacked yet. Maybe Gojo’s power is holding them at bay… for now anyway. You both know that he can’t ignore them forever.
“...before I do, though, mind if I ask you just one thing?”
You blink. “Not sure what I can do for you in this state…”
He laughs. “I just want to know your name.”
What an odd request. Though, now that you think about it, you don’t think that during this loop or any other loop really, you’ve ever told him your name. It only seems fair to tell him, since you’ve known his for longer than he’s known of your existence.
You tell him your name.
He nods, looking as if he’s committing to memory. Probably easier to remember than his phone number. “Any last words?”
You try to think of something. Nothing comes to mind and you just shake your head.
Gojo takes a deep breath, “Alrighty then… Prison realm, gate close.”
Just as it did the many times you’ve seen Satoru Gojo sealed away, the boxes and restraints around you vibrate a little before they start to close around you, growing large enough to fit your body as they approach.
You won’t see it, but once you’re inside the box will shrink and become small enough to fit in the palm of someone’s hand.
Will it be quiet inside?
In your final seconds, some words, some last words come to mind, and you say them, hoping that he hears them in time. “Thank you, Satoru Gojo.”
You burn the glittering glow of his brilliant bright blue eyes into your mind.
And then, everything is engulfed in an unending black.
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It’s November 30, 2018— morning on the campus of Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School.
Satoru Gojo strides through the school grounds, casually tossing a small silver box with eerie blue eyes known as the prison realm up and down in his grasp. Walking at his side is Shoko Ieiri, a pretty woman who’s been unfortunate enough to have been Satoru’s friend since high school.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Shoko asks, twirling a few strands of her long brown hair.
“What do you mean?” Satoru responds nonchalantly. “All my ideas are good ideas.”
Shoko hums in clear dissent, but doesn’t say anything more. Even she knows better than to try and waste her time trying to argue with Satoru. “I’m just worried about their mental state. Didn’t you say that time doesn’t flow in the box?”
“I’d be worried if it was some normal person,” Satoru says. “But after what they’ve gone through I think they’ll be fine.”
“...well, if you say so.”
The two arrive at their destination: the largest training area on the Jujutsu High grounds. Satoru places the prison realm at the center and takes a few steps back with Shoko standing behind him, in case anything happens.
He doesn’t think it will, but it’s always good to take at least a few precautions.
“Gojo, are you sure we should be doing this?” Shoko asks again. “Didn’t they want to remain in the box?”
“Of course I am,” Satoru says with his usual air of confidence before looking back at the prison realm nestled in the grass. He grins and then—
“Prison realm, gate open.”
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if you made it this far. thank you. it's my sincerest hope that you enjoyed the ride. 3
#OHHHHHHHH MY GOD.#okokokok this is gonna be. Really Incoherent sorry in advance 🙏🙏 niku this made me…… insane. fully. someone needs to restrain me#one of my favorite gojo fics Ever??? like genuinely????? this was SUCH a pleasure to read i have sm i wanna say :((( hhhhhh#FIRST OF ALLL the higurashi poem…. what a banger <33 i LOVE how it ties in with the ending too but more on that later :33#but it’s also so perfect bc reading this fic rlly did feel like playing a vn in the BEST way possible…. just. seeing all the tiny variation#experiencing the loops along w reader…… it was just SUCH an enjoyable experience i can’t even describe it!!!!!!!!! i’m so floored!!!!!!!!!!#like i ADORE timeloops it’s my favorite trope Ever and this fic was just . a godsend?? perfection??? the best loopfic ive read?????#I’M STILL GOING FULLY INSANE OVER IT BTW it satiated every single craving i have for timeloop content. my brain is leaking endorphins rn 😵‍#i LOVE the opening lines and the constant reusage of ”It’s the night of October 31 2018��� Halloween in Shibuya”…… just so satisfying somehow#and reader’s mental state was also so thoughtfully depicted… it was so easy to insert myself into them but they’re also. rlly charming?#them latching onto gojo as the one anomaly of the timeloop…. fixating on him and his beauty (real as fuck btw)…. and searching for hope!!!#finding hope in gojo!!!! learning to trust him!!!!! :((( it feels kinda like a very twisted one-sided slowburn … and i ate it up.#i also rlly like that it’s not explicitly romantic!!! there’s enough subtext to enjoy a romance aspect but it’s not the Focus yk??#and i like that!!! the focus is on reader and the timeloop and both of those aspects are woven into gojo rlly naturally :>#ok so i’m using that as a segway. bc OFC i need to rant abt gojo fucking satoru and how much i love him and ur take on him 😔😔#every once in a while i’ll find a fic where i’m like. this author knows Gojo Satoru personally. they speak to him on the phone every night.#and this fic is ABSOLUTELY one of those like….. this gojo is Canon to me. i’m so serious abt it like that’s HIM !!!#and it just reminded me of why i love him sm bc this rlly does feel exactly like the gojo from the manga and that’s SO impressive 2 me ….#i’m in awe of u niku. i don’t even know where to begin w gojo bc i loved SO many lines and lil details u put in………. 😵‍💫😵‍💫#he’s just. soooooo charming :/// he truly is. he’s beautiful and handsome and he gives you his number every loop . w a star symbol!!!!#asks you for your phone or a pen and gets all excited writing his name… the mochi receipt…. 🥺 he’s so endearing we need to put him Down.#HE’S SO GOODDDDD I CAN’T SAY IT ENOUGH…. his convos with reader were a huge highlight for me and i loved loved LOVED#the moment he finally understands their situation. when they speak and he hears them out and he’s almost gentle. sooo reassuring.#starting to think you’re genuinely gege akutami btw like . gojo is so complex but you just. captured him perfectly???#he’s cocky and playful and teasing and a killing machine and he’s Kind. he’s playful even when you’re a stranger#and when he finally hears you out he speaks softly and says he’ll protect you :((( reader is better than me i would’ve cried LMAO#THE DIALOGUE IS SO GOOD N FEELS SO REAL ”did you fall in love with me just now?” NOOO ….. ☹️☹️☹️☹️ …. (maybe ……..)#ack. he’s the most charming man in the universe my heart was fluttering like crazy this isn’t… normal human behavior………#WAIT i almost forgot …. i too adore the jjk dub and every time gojo spoke i heard kaiji tang in my head <33 10/10 would recommend!!!#writing ✩
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hueseok · 2 months ago
Text
it was always you.
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for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.
so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.
or at least, that’s what you think.
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 13.2k
rating: 18+
content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts
warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)
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MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken
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opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗
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“Any questions?”
A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”
You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.
You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”
More than half of the class raises their hands.
“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”
A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.
“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”
“I love you, Ms. ____!”
“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.
“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”
The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.
There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.
Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.
“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.
“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”
He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“Is that how you greet an old friend?”
“Oh, fuck off.”
He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”
You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.
“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”
“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”
“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”
“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”
“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”
“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”
“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”
“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”
He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”
“You didn’t?”
He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.
“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”
“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.
Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.
It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.
It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.
At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.
“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”
“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”
“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”
Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.
“He meant well, ____.”
You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.
“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.
He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”
You wince.
“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”
“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”
“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”
“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”
“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”
“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”
“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”
“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”
“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”
“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”
Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.
“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”
“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.
“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.
He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”
“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”
“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”
“An apology?”
“For being the last person to know about your condition.”
“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”
“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”
Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.
“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”
“I can make space for you.”
Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?
You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”
“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”
“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”
“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.
“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”
“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”
“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”
Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.
“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.
“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”
“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 
“Do I have a choice?”
“No.”
“Fine.” You deadpan.
This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”
“Okay.”
****
When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.
He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.
And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 
He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.
Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.
“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.
Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”
“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.
“You’ll do it then?”
He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”
“Even as crazy as marrying her?”
“Sure.”
Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”
“I don’t like her.” 
“You’re in love with her.”
“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”
Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”
He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”
“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”
“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”
“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”
“That can work.”
“What?” Jungkook laughed.
Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”
He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”
“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”
“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.
Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, and then I’ll do everything I can to fuck you up.”
Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.
“Noted.”
****
It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.
You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 
“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.
You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.
“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.
Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”
“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”
He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.
“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”
The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”
“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”
“Precisely.”
“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”
“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”
 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”
“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”
“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”
“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”
You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”
“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.
He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”
“Hell no.”
“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.
“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”
He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”
“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”
The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.
You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.
When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.
After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.
“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.
He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.
“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 
“That’s no need, Kook.”
“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”
So, you allow him.
It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.
“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”
“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”
Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”
“Agreed.”
You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”
Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.
“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.
“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”
“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”
“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”
“It’s not as bad as you think.”
“That’s not convincing at all.”
“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”
You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.
You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”
There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just��before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”
“I can’t promise that either.”
“You have to.”
“Why do I have to?”
“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”
You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”
“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”
“Misunderstand what?”
“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”
“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”
“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”
“You should be.” You grumble.
Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.
“What?” You hiss.
He swallows hard.
“I want you to marry me, ____.”
You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.
****
Jungkook was your first kiss.
It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 
He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.
“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”
You blushed.
Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.
5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.
“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”
You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”
“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”
Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”
“So, it’s not true?”
“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.
It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”
You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”
“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.
He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.
“Okay,” you told him.
“Huh?”
“You can kiss me.”
“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”
You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”
“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”
“It is?” Hope sparked within you.
“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”
You cackled. “Deal.”
56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 
****
You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.
“What’s up?”
“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.
A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”
The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.
“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”
“Are you hearing yourself right now?”
“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”
“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”
“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”
“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”
“Why not?”
“It just won’t!”
“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”
You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”
“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”
“It’s a sham marriage!”
“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”
“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”
Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”
“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”
“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”
“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”
“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”
Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”
“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”
“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”
“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”
“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”
There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.
“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.
“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”
“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”
“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.
You hang up and glance at the door.
You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.
He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.
As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 
Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.
Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack
You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.
You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw
Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first
You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you
Jungkook: oof that’s harsh
You: sorry not sorry?
He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.
However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.
Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind
You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.
You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey
Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣
****
It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.
He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.
Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.
“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.
“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.
You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”
“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”
“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”
“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”
“Ah.” You nod in understanding.
You two continue walking forward.
This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.
“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.
You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”
“Busy day?”
“Yep.”
“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”
He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”
“Why not?”
“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”
“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”
“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”
“The assurance you’re taken care of.”
“That’s cheesy.”
You share a laugh and he grins.
“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”
He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.
Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.
“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”
You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”
Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.
“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.
“Glucometer.”
He halts. “What does that look like?”
“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.
He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.
“Apple juice,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.
You grab the juice pouch from his grasp, prying the straw attached on the back, pushing its end for it to pop out of its plastic cover—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing and punching in the straw properly.
“Let me do it,” he says.
You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he does the job and guides the straw to your awaiting lips, a long exhale through your nose escapes you.
“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.
Another sigh. “Better.”
“Does this happen a lot?”
You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”
“____—”
“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”
Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”
“Thank you.”
He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”
Before you can protest, he closes the door.
****
Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.
In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.
“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.
“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”
“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”
“It’s not.”
“Better safe than sorry.”
You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.
Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?
“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.
“Four months, I think.”
“Four months? And you already brought him home?”
You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”
“You must really like him then.”
“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”
“Does he treat you well?”
You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”
“What’s with it?”
“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”
Fuck, thank God, he thought.
“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.
“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”
“But I’m not your brother.”
“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”
“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”
“Oh, so you don’t?”
He pressed his lips into a tight line.
“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.
“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”
“Instead you implied it.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You kinda did.”
He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”
“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.
He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.
“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”
“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.
“He might not like it. You’ll see.”
That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.
You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.
****
“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.
Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in feeding yourself with apple juice, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.
“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.
“Jungkook—”
“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.
You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”
“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 
“That’s not the issue.”
“Then what is?”
“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”
“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”
“I’m not willing to take the risk.”
“I’m not willing to see you die.”
You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”
“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”
“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”
“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”
“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”
“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”
“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”
“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”
“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”
His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”
“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”
Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”
“That won’t make me feel better.”
“Then what will?”
You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.
Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.
Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.
You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”
He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”
“For one, I grew up.”
“Ouch.”
You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”
That piques his interest. “Anything.”
“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”
“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”
You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.
“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.
It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.
You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”
His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!
He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.
“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”
That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.
“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.
“What?”
“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”
Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.
“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.
Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.
“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”
“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”
And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.
It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.
However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.
“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.
You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.
“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.
It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.
“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.
You grin. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”
You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.
“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”
You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.
He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”
“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.
He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”
You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.
It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.
Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.
“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.
You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“I’m going to take you up on that.”
“Please do.”
After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you are. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.
“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.
You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”
A boyish grin erupts on his features.
Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.
“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.
You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”
He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”
“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”
“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”
****
“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.
The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.
“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”
“I don’t care.”
You laugh. 
He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.
Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.
“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”
You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.
“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.
“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”
“Of course.” You kiss him too.
His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.”
Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.
“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.
The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.
Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.
Jungkook unwillingly places you down.
“I think I need to go,” you say.
He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
“Call you tomorrow?”
“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 
He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”
“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.
“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.
“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”
“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”
“You,” he answers without missing a beat.
You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”
“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”
You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”
Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.
You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.
“What?” you ask.
“Please never do that in front of me again.”
His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”
“Want what?”
“Me and Jungkook to be together.”
“When on earth did I say that?”
“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”
A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”
“We’re not—”
“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”
“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”
“Wait, so the two of you have?”
Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”
He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”
You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.
You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”
You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.
A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”
You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”
When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.
“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”
You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.
You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.
“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.
You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.
Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.
You: look how cute we look 🥹
You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.
If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.
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gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡
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silkentine · 5 months ago
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Me when they are the sisters ever: 😭😭😭 They came out soooo freaking well. I won’t lie, they took me a thousand years to finish but through the constant support from all of my buds (and my latent bisexuality), we made it 😤
Hopefully you guys know the deal by now: design choices, easter eggs, and (NEW!) closeup shots below the read more. ⬇️
I wanted Ace to have a very down-to-earth vibe and looked at Aussie beach-girls, coastal cowgirls, and vaqueras for reference. (IDK, I’ve just always envisioned Ace as part-Australian🌺 and Mexican 🏴‍☠️) Her clothing choices are mostly natural or utilitarian materials like the painted wooden beads on her top, her woven fabric and leather belts, and her denim jumpsuit. I gave her bikini top a zen-garden kind of feel because I read the first Ace’s Story Novel and I loved how idyllic and peaceful they made Sixis Island sound so I wanted to invoke that in some way.
Speaking of her painted wooden beads, they hang off the back of her top and represent her connection to Sabo and Luffy. They watch her back once she sets sail. She only wears one red glass bead earring because the other one got ripped out of her ear when a child, leaving her earlobe torn (don’t think about it too much 😢). Also, YES! she does wear a hibiscus flower just like Rouge (because I hate you and I want to make you cry, muhwahahahaha).
Also, I really wanted her to have super textured curly hair that licks behind her like flames. I am always considering whether or not a character should have long hair or not because I don’t want it to be a hindrance if they’re in a fight (or if they ARE a fighter with long hair, how to they avoid an enemy making use of that?). Ace is, of course, a Logia-type Devil Fruit User so I think she wouldn’t have trouble with people grabbing it LOL I get the feeling that she doesn’t take very good care of it even though it looks amazing. Like you’d think it would be soft and bouncy just by looking at it but if you ever get the chance to run your fingers through it, it’s a total rat’s nest and there’s sand and food all up in it. She still falls asleep while eating 😂 but she tries her best to only do it around people she can trust (woman moment 😔).
Honestly, her design is not that different from Ace’s canon look. It feels really vital to Ace’s character to have a lot of skin showing. And he’s always hanging all over himself with his hips all cocked like the weight of the world is too much to stand up straight. It is certainly not my OWN preference to make her an absolute smoke show. That’s just the character, okay? (I’m partially lying and the proof is that I turned the emblem on Ace’s hat strap into a sternum tattoo for no other reason than that it is sexy af.)
Here are some closeups of Ace:
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Now for Sabo, I’ve made her very girly. I tried putting her in pants or something more militant but she told me that she’d wear the big poofy sleeves and hiked-up ruffled skirt. I think Sabo has always had a strong grasp on his fashion sense and individual flair and I truly believe that his personal style is one of the major influences for the rest of the Revolutionary Army resulting in the very flashy, queer, steampunk aesthetic (aside from Dragon’s plain-ass cloak). So of course I had to implement her nonconformist look when reimagining her as a woman and dress her up to the nines.
I’ve given her very ornate jewelry that is there to tell a story, even if she herself doesn’t know it. I like to think she picks up stuff from her travels that resonate with her, such as a damaged set of earrings with one stone missing or red cup-shaped shells featuring three nestled pearls. Another accessory that cannot go unmentioned is her dragon claw hat pin that keeps her top hat resting on top of her hair (and is definitely used as a weapon when the situation simply doesn’t call for trusty metal pipe). She also has a veil that obscures her prominent facial scar. I imagine she’s not very keen on the reminder of the incident from her childhood that took away her memories. I also kept her chipped toothed because 1) it’s fucking adorable and 2) is a visual reminder that she no longer aligns herself with the nobility who would have gotten such a thing fixed. She is so poised in almost every outward facet of her life from her dignified role as the Chief of Staff to the elegant materials in her clothing that it can be easy to forget she was also a rough and tumble forest dweller. Every time Koala remembers this, he lets out the biggest sigh.
Her hair is inspired by Gibson Girls and Elizabeth Swann from the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie. I wanted it to be fussy and tidy but fall apart when she’s in moments of distress. For example, when she remembers her sisters, her hair starts to look like Ace’s flaming mane. I’m so in love with her, I think she looks like an adorable little porcelain doll that would fuck you up. I made an effort to keep her eyes a little bit manic. I get lost in her steely black orbs (and also Ace’s warm brown ones, but we’re talking about Sabo rn).
Here are her close-ups:
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Plot notes for this AU:
For this series of character designs, I wanted the expressions and outfits to be aligned with the canon plot but I don’t know if I have the heart to kill fem!Ace in my AU. I’m too attached and ASL has suffered enough!!!!! But Ace’s death is also a major defining moment for Luffy so it feels disingenuous to completely avoid it. Also a huge aspect of Sabo’s character is carrying on Ace’s will and I have so many thoughts about how the Dressrosa Colosseum scene would play out if they were all women. Oh well, I’ll cross that tragic bridge when I get to it. I’m definitely going to draw some Modern AU Girl Piece ASL though. They deserve to hang out with no stakes 😭 They are sisters!!!
Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog for my other One Piece genderbends! 🥰
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4dbeingguide · 5 months ago
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11 tips from a master manifestor.
y’all have been loving my first post and it’s really encouraged me to come back. this time i have 11 tips for you! i would’ve really appreciated a post like this when i was a beginner so i’ve decided to make it for those who may also be starting with their journey. actually it doesn’t matter where you are on this road, this is supposed to help everybody, including master manifestors (yes, sometimes doubts cross our minds, we just know how to deal with them)!
there is a lot of repetition as there are some concepts i want to emphasize on. excuse any grammar errors. let’s get straight to it!
stop giving a fuck about the 3D. that is absolute (as in, don’t check it, don’t wait for anything from it, don’t let it get to you). just stop. i have a post over here that will really help you in doing so (and no, it isn’t me cursing at you while ordering you to stop. it’s me having a discussion with you and listening to your doubts while refuting them and i also back it up with scientific sources).
acknowledge that you already are a master manifestor. you’re already where you need to be. don’t let the illusion that is the 3D tell you otherwise!
if you see a piece of manifestation advice that rubs you the wrong way then simply act as if it’s false and doesn’t apply to your reality. you make the rules.
speaking of rules, make yourself some manifesting rules that dictate that manifesting is effortless and instant for you. don’t settle for less.
keep a success story list (and yes, you can put stuff that you’ve assumed that hasn’t appeared in the 3D since the 4D is the only reality) so that you can use it to reaffirm your belief in the law if you ever doubt it.
never seek approval from the 3D for ANYTHING. it is an ILLUSION. your 4D/mind/assumptions are the OBJECTIVE reality. this also applies to the state of waiting and wanting. why do you want to wait for the approval of an illusion? and what are you wanting when it’s already here?
the 3D is not your enemy and it is impossible for the 3D to reject your manifestation. the bitch is inanimate lmao. have you ever walked in front of a mirror and had it tell you “i’m not gonna reflect right now”? i’m sure the answer is no. the 3D works the same way. it EXISTS to reflect our assumptions. that’s its entire purpose. it is nothing but an illusory perception of our 4D. it actually obeys you down to a T. i was gonna say it’s your pet but pets are actually alive and autonomous, the 3D isn’t. the 3D just an inanimate illusion. your business is in the 4D. that’s where you live.
you don’t need a technique. to manifest, all you have to do is assume you have it or enter the state of having it. techniques simply exist to help you do so (that’s why we affirm/visualize/etc. that we have it) but you can do it directly. that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use them. do what feels most natural to you. do what is the most efficient when it comes to making you fulfilled (not what gives it to you fastest in the 3D. remember, it’s an illusion).
you shouldn’t care if the 3D will give it to you or not. the 3D is an illusion, remember? a simple way to get yourself to put your eyes on the 4D is saying something to the effect of “this 3D/physical world isn’t real/is an illusion, the 4D/mind is the only true reality, i live in the 4D and thus all my affairs are there and not in the 3D and this is what the 4D is saying: (insert manifestation)”. seriously, all your affairs are in the 4D. you’re 4 dimensional.
when doubts persist, reading rants and banging pots and pans might help sometimes but sometimes you just have to sit down with yourself and have an internal dialogue. you’re human (probably 🤔 just in case you’re manifesting otherwise as you read this, and yes it IS possible). hear what your doubts have to say in full (don’t buy it though) and debunk them calmly and civilly.
limits don’t exist. imagination is the only reality. if you can imagine it then it can happen unless you say it can’t.
if you liked this post, make sure to check out my post here!!! in it i elaborate on how to deal with doubts. have an amazing day 🫶
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slutofpsh · 3 months ago
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strip for me.
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part six | pjs.
pairings: hyungline x reader
synopsis: hyung line got you trapped in a situation that you can’t get away from.
wc: 8k.
warnings: smut, minors dni, fivesome, bullying (not promoting violence or bullying), degrading, raw sex (please use protection), dirty talks, curses, masturbation, hyung line being mean. having small sips of champagne. this is not proof read.
note: finally finished jay’s solo part. i really enjoyed writing this one as he is really my comfort person in this group. he just strikes me as someone very reliable. also get well soon, our jay! jake’s part will be the next one. i’ll probably need more time for that part since he’s a very hyper member (i mean it in a very affectionate way). anyway, as usual reblogs and replies are highly encouraged. i really appreciate all of your nice feedbacks!
part one; two; three; four; five
slutofpsh 2024 © all rights reserved.
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“y/n, please pick up that dress i ordered for you later.” your head whips to look over your shoulder.
a small smile spreads across your face before nodding once, “okay, mom! see you later.” and you leans in to give her a kiss on her cheeks.
as you head outside, you couldn’t help but to feel excited. nerves wrecking and mind wondering of how this day will go. it was two days after your ‘date’ with one of your boyfriends, lee heeseung. and now, its park jongseong.
speaking of, he’s already outside. his red chevy camero parked while he’s leaning on it. patiently waiting for you. his eyes brightens the moment you walked out from the door.
“good morning!” he smiles bigger as he watch how cute your way of walking towards him.
“good morning, baby.” he greets softly and naturally sliding his arms over your waist, tugging you closer.
“were you waiting for long?” you asks a little bit worried.
jay’s eyes are so focused on you, gently watching you carefully. he shakes his head with a soft smile.
“nah.” he says.
only, he was there waiting for over an hour. he wasn’t going to tell you that, knowing so well that it would make you feel bad. he doesn’t want that.
after staring at each other for a while, he guided you over his car, opening the door for you. it was such a sweet gesture that you’re kind of getting used to. the boys always does it for you these days.
“jake’s texting me.” you informed with a bright smile while tapping on your phone to reply.
jay smirks, arms flexing as he manoeuvred the steering wheel. “is he still sulky about yesterday?” he asks that made you giggle a bit.
yesterday, the five of you went to eat dinner at heeseung’s favourite restaurant. it was a very fun time. you spent it just talking about random things, the boys basically exposing their embarrassing past memories to you that made you feel even much closer to them.
in the end, after the dinner someone has to drive you home and they just started to bicker with each other. it slightly stressed you out why they’re making it such a big deal. the banters lasts until you came up with the idea of settling it through rock paper and scissors. you’re laughing the whole duration that they’re playing.
jay won and jake, as always, is sulky. saying that he gets to pick you up today and should automatically be disqualified on driving you home last night.
“a little.” and you made sure you decorate your message with heart emojis just so he wouldn’t be so upset about last night.
he snorted, “he’s so immature.”
you giggled, can’t help but to inwardly agrees. tho, you must also admit that you love this side of jake sim. he’s just so adorable.
“so what’s the plan later?”
the original plan was to not ask anything about the date with jay that you’ve been looking forward to. but you just can’t help yourself.
the date with heeseung just improves so much with your relationship with him and just drawn you both closer. to the point that you don’t feel that nervous around him anymore. you can hold a staring contest for more than 15 seconds now (before it only last for 5 seconds).
jay smiles, knowing that you feel excited to your date just makes his heart jump in joy. since they did talked about how to make it up to you, jay gave deep thoughts about it. he’s very determined about giving his best—if not his all, just to make you feel how he feels towards you.
“its a secret.” and he grins that made you pout.
he glanced and chuckles at how adorable you look. he gently pinches your chin then put his focus back on the road. it was a chill ride and he was so entertaining to talk to. jay’s the type of person who knows alot of things and so you’re learning while chatting with him.
as his car drives over the parking lot, familiar vehicles in the same spot can be seen by you. they’re busy goofing around, but once sunghoon spots jay’s familiar vehicle, he pushed himself off his motorcycle.
jake’s head whips in flash and a big smile automatically spreads across his face. heeseung’s just have a small smile over his lips while leaning over his car, watching carefully. you chuckled, never really getting tired of this scene.
you rolled down the window even before jay can finish parking to wave at the three boys. jake instantly waves back, full of energy.
“sweets!” he greets and even rushed over to your side like an excited puppy.
“calm down, dude! you’ll get drag by my car.” jay hissed while still trying his best to focus on parking.
once rest assured that its safe to open the car’s door, jake didn’t waste any time and bursted it open. jay just rolls his eyes before unclasping your seatbelt for you.
sunghoon smirks while opening the backseat to get your things for you while you’re busy greeting his friends. heeseung trudges closer and almost pushed jake’s clingy ass off.
“hey, angel.” he softly greets then caged you in a tight, warm embrace. he drops a kiss on top of your head then leans his cheeks on it.
“hi, hee.” you says while face pressed on his chest, inhaling his manly scent that you’re slowly getting addicted to.
“jay hits the jackpot, eh? he drove you home last night and then he gets to pick you up today.” he mumbled so lowly, like as if he doesn’t want his friends to hear him sulking.
you chuckled, “that’s fine.” and caress his back carefully.
he smiles, enjoying your warmth. he gave you one last squeeze before leaning away to give you a peck on the lips.
once heeseung’s body moves away from you, sunghoon approaches. his eyes darted at you. he looked so good even in the morning. you gulped, admiring him.
“hi, pretty.” he whispers as he tugs your body closer to his.
pretty? he’s the pretty one for your eyes. the way his black hair compliments his pale skin, thick brows and eyelashes around his pretty eyes, pointy nose with a mole, and natural red lips. kissable lips that you get to kiss whenever you like.
“hi, hoonie.” you mumble affectionately that tugs sunghoon’s heart strings.
there’s really something with the way you say his name. he will never get tired of it. he should really record it and put it as his alarm. or use it whenever he’s losing his cool. it could put into a good use. maybe when he’s masturbating too? he smirks inwardly.
he leans in for his kiss with a playful evil grin on his handsome face. you return his kiss without any clue of the dirty things that occupies his mind.
“its really so unfair that you’d get to drive her home last night and you picked her up today.” jake’s still sulky while you walk over to the class.
as usual, heeseung and sunghoon’s in front towering the three of you. jay and jake’s beside you chatting and bickering from time to time.
“sweets do you like (favorite food)?” jake asks once you’ve settled on your seat.
despite the random question, you gave him a nod. his face brightens like it was such a big relief. jay drags one chair to sit next to you while heeseung went in front to check the workbooks that needed to be submitted. sunghoon went to his seat and laid his head after he placed your things beside you.
“what do you plan on your date?” jay asked his friend who quickly knew that he’s asking these questions because of his plan.
jake’s face looked defensive, “that’s none of your business! don’t copy me.” he hissed at his friend.
that made you laugh and jay only frowned at him. “i already planned our day. i don’t need your lame ideas.” he fired back.
jake cocked one of his brow at his friend, “lame? you’re lame!” and even playfully swat his arm then tries to escape after sending you a flying kiss.
you laughed hard at jake’s cuteness and how they bicker around. jay was left beside you as he flips his friend who just showed him his tongue from his seat.
“he’s so immature.” he complains while shaking his head.
you watch him with a smile, admiring how he’s so patient around his friends. jay is very matured. he rarely shows emotions or big reactions that makes him almost a nonchalant person. but lately, you’ve noticed how he tries to change that towards you.
you can clearly see he’s not that comfortable showing his true emotions. making you feel worried how he’s very cautious about letting people know his fears or weaknesses. he has a strong persona. some people even think he doesn’t have any weak side.
“he’s being cute.” and you reaches over his arm to caress it, a way of saying he’s being so nice.
jay’s eyes drops over your hand and smiles before grabbing it to kiss it once.
“nah, he’s just being annoying.”
you chuckled, “anyway, i have to pick up a dress later. is that okay?” you remembered your mom’s reminders before you stepped out from your house.
jay nods without hesitation. “yeah, sure. we can go pick it up later before we head to my condo.” he says.
you nods and tilts your head. “so we’ll date at your condo?” you ask with curiousity.
jay licks his lips, feeling a little nervous that you may actually find it boring or unclassy. his hyung just took you to their vacation house.
“y-yeah,” then he clears his throat. “is that okay with you?”
your eyes stares at his and nodded without hesitation. no sign of disappointment or anything. just genuine curiosity and a hint of excitement. he always knew you aren’t judgemental, but it still surprises him sometimes.
“what will we do at your place?” you tried your luck of harvesting information.
he smirks, caught on right away. he pinches your cheeks once before standing up to go to his proper seat.
“nice try, baby.” then he drops a quick kiss on top of your head.
a pout made its way to your lips while watching his broad back leaving. you’re totally curious, just like how it was when its your date with heeseung. you smile inwardly then shrugs shoulder before fishing the textbook you’ll be needing for the class.
guess you just need to leave it up to him. besides, you bet you’ll enjoy the day.
the class started once the teacher steps inside the room. naturally, you’re focus falls completely on to the lessons. lately, you find yourself enjoying class even more. maybe because you don’t feel alone anymore. tho, back then they’re really there for you. but their affection truly gave a bigger impact of comfort.
two periods passes like a blur and you’re stretching your arms when jay calls your attention.
“hey.” he says as he leans over, placing one of his hand on your table then the other at the back of your chair, trapping you.
the position itself was enough to send butterflies go crazy inside your stomach. he smiles then stares hardly on your eyes.
“y-yeah?”
“can you help me take those workbooks at the student council office?” he asks casually then pointed at the teacher’s table using his chin.
you glanced at it once then agreed with no hesitation. he nods then started heading towards the table. you followed afterwards. some of your classmates are starting to goof around as it was your vacant period.
“you can carry that.” he’s referring to the fewer stacks of workbooks. it sure does not compare to what he would carry.
“that’s too many. i can handle more than this.” you said, worried that he will have a hard time carrying those.
he shakes his head, declining.
“i can handle this, baby. besides, its just an alibi.” he smugly chuckle before tilting his head, asking you to follow him outside.
your stomach churns after realizing that he didn’t asked for your help because he needs it. its for other reason.
before heading outside, your eyes automatically scanned the room for the other three boys. their eyes are already darted at your direction, like as if they’ve been watching you ever since you stood up.
jake has a pout on his lips. sunghoon’s eyes are piercing as always, but he smirks once met eyes with you. he even made a playful kiss gesture before winking that made you blush. heeseung’s just watching using his soft gaze, only available for you.
“baby.” jay softly calls out.
that snapped you back in your senses then continued following him. on the way to the office, jay initiated conversation that made you feel at ease. not that you’re uncomfy around him, its just knowing that he’s planning to do something at the office makes you feel things.
the scenario at the library with heeseung flashes back to your mind, making you flustered and wet at the same time. your heart thumped in so much anticipation. a little bit scared... but more on excited.
“after you.” he smiles gently while prompting you to walk inside before him. his gentlemen gesture made you blush so hard, unable to even utter a simple thanks.
the whole office is as expected, vacant. jay walks pass you after locking the door behind him. he glanced at you while you silently roam your eyes around. the look on your face made jay smirk a little. it reflects a kitten scared for her life. very cute.
“you can place that here.” he says and puts the workbooks he was holding at the table.
you nodded then trudges towards him to place it near his stacks. his eyes carefully follows your every movement and you can feel his burning eyes, making you feel more nervous.
“are you nervous?” jay reaches for your hand then caress it. his eyes stays at you.
a pout made its way to your lips, “a little.” you admit that made his grin grew wider.
“yeah? why is that?” he asks teasingly then tugs your body close to his.
your brows furrowed and lips pursed, “because of you.”
jay’s very satisfied to hear that from you. the fact that you look very adorable and that he’s the reason of it makes his head go fuzzy. his heart aches in so much delight. he wraps his arms around your body and lets you rest your head on his chest, him nuzzling you close.
“you don’t have to feel nervous.” he says and gulped. its making him even more excited.
“i will always feel nervous around you.”
“is that suppose to be a good thing?” he chuckles.
your arms slides over his waist, “yeah.” a heavy sigh escapes from your lips before you continued. “i feel safe with you, but you can also make me feel nervous.” you admits then slowly pulls off from his warm hug.
he lets you, but kept his hand on the small of your back. his eyes darted at you.
“its because you look so handsome all the time.” you complimented him. well, its true. all of them are incredibly good looking, its just out of all those four boys, jay seems to be the one who needs to hear it the most.
you’ve noticed how he never flaunt how handsome he is and you remembered that one time where jake said that he rarely take photos as he doesn’t like seeing his face. that’s actually the most non-sense you’ve heard that time. how can he not like seeing that kind of face?
you figured you need to do extra effort on complimenting jay, try to help him realize how beautiful he is for your eyes— and probably to almost everybody around.
“baby...” jay’s out of words. you totally caught him off-guard and you’re happy about it. feeling proud even.
“what? i’m just stating a fact.” with a small smile on your pretty face.
jay’s heart strings tugs. he knew he likes every bits of you, but its still amazing how you manage to still make him feel things like this. at some point he thinks that you have some sort of magic spell and they’re all under it. he’s not complaining tho.
he leans in for a very soft kiss. you’ve felt every emotions he’s having at the moment.
when he pulls away, your eyes looked hazy and lips a little more red after the kiss. he smirks then caress your cheeks carefully. the two of you stares at each other’s eyes for a while before he talked again.
“take off your panties and sit down on the sofa.” he instructs that made your heart thump and stomach churn.
he didn’t have to even repeat himself. he guides you and you obeyed without any complain. the very familiar sofa causes so much memories to flashback and you just can’t help but to blush.
he made you sat down and just like he requested, you reached for your underwear and slides it off. he watches carefully while positioning himself in front, his eyes totally fixed at it. he licks his lips, almost salivating at the view.
“i want to taste your sweetness.” he mumbles after you manage to take your panties off.
he naturally placed both of his hands on your thighs and spread it open for him. the sight of your wet core made him even more thirstier. he can’t remember anything that can make him arouse like how the way you do it.
his eyes shifts at you and leans forward for a quick kiss. after liplocking for a few seconds, he pulls away then dips his head to start eating you out.
first lick on your slit and you’re already a whole mess. gasping lightly, your one hand flew over to your mouth trying not to make so much noise.
“damn, that’s good.” jay mumbles and then started eating you out. his lips attached to your core. he’s licking, sucking it. making sure he left no part of it that his tongue touched. he’s so addicted.
he looks at you over his eyelashes and his heart felt proud seeing you eyes tight shut, lip caught in between your teeth and head pans left and right.
“look at me, baby.” he says shortly that made you pry your eyes open. it was a bit hard as the pleasure’s keeping you from doing it easily.
“watch while i eat you out so good.” he added before diving in to eat you so hard like it was his last meal in his life.
feeling his tongue and lips attached at your core felt so good, having to watch as he does it makes you go crazy. it was a sight to see and the pleasure he gives just adds to the intensity of the situation.
“oh jay...” you moaned that he answered with a hum, the vibration it made threw your head back. your eyes slightly rolled at the back of your head. he taps your thighs, indicating that he wants your eyes back at him and so you obliged.
jay saw how hard your teeth are sunk into your beautiful lips and the way you clenched hardly around his tongue indicates that you are close to release his long awaited sweet juice. he raised one of his hand then slides two fingers with no warning. it made you jolt and moan in pleasure.
“are you close, baby?” he asks so softly. contradicting to his tone is his evil sexy smirk while watching carefully how your face contorts.
you nodded eagerly that made him chuckle, “give it to me then.” he says as he rut his fingers inside you in a faster pace.
“ugh,” you whimpered and watch how he laid his tongue near your hole, making sure it touches perfectly so he can catch every bit of your release.
the sight was enough for you to cum. it was so sensual and jay looked so hot doing it. jay continued to fuck you with his fingers despite after cumming and shaking a bit because of it.
“j-jay...” you moaned and shut your eyes close, unable to handle the pleasure and being stimulated by it.
he teared his gaze off from you and focused on your pulsating pussy. he pulled his fingers off then licks it off clean before attaching his lips on your hole to suck all those juices off.
“oh my gosh..” you moaned, back arching a little and eyes cracking open in surprise. the feeling was undescribably good.
jay’s wiping off some remnance on the corner of his lips before he smiles lovingly at you. he loves your fucked out state, still in trance of how good he just made you feel. he gently grabs your hand and caress it before taking it to his lips, kissing it affectionately.
“was that good?” he asked even though your face was enough to let him know that you indeed enjoyed every bit of it.
a nod is all you could give him as you’re still high from your climax. he chuckles and kissed your inner thigh once before standing up to collect some tissues to clean you.
“glad to make up from the last time.” he mumbled, referring to when he refused you the release you’ve been anticipating. back when he’s still punishing you.
a small smile and a light chuckle escapes your lips, “that was worth it.” you commented that earned a wide grin from the handsome boy now leaning down to start cleaning his girlfriend’s sweet pussy.
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“jay is really my most hated person at the moment.” jake commented as he walks beside you over the parking lot.
the two of you are hand in hand while the three other boys are behind, talking about this topic you couldn’t even relate to. jake’s not that sulky anymore, but his jealous ass can’t help but to be upset over his friend.
you caress his warm hands wrapped on yours, “oh come on, i know you love him.” the teasing smile on your face made jake giddy inside. he can’t explain how happy he is now that you’ve grown closer to all of them. comfortable enough to tease him like this.
he smirks, leaning his face closer. “not as much as i love you, sweets.” and with no warning he attached his lips on yours.
the kiss made your heart leap. after a couple of seconds he pulls away with a smile.
“i’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he lifts his other hand to pinch your cheeks lightly as you nod your head.
“take care of her, jay.” jake says with a playful glare on his face.
sunghoon’s smirking as he silently approach you to give you a kiss on your lips. he mumbled a short good bye before placing your things on jay’s car.
“you don’t even have to remind me.” jay snobbishly says at his friend.
heeseung shakes his head, a bit fed up to their banters. his eyes shifts to you and they soften instantly. he smiles before leaning to kiss you on your forehead then to your lips.
“i love you,” he mumbles then rests his forehead on yours. “have fun tonight for me.”
you nodded, cheeks blushing hard. “i love you too, hee.”
his heart beats in content and leans away. he gave jay a clap on his shoulder before waving to go approach his own car.
jake’s still there, shooting glares to his friend. jay snorted as he slid his arms over your waist.
“dude why can’t you just be normal like heeseung hyung and sunghoon? they just bid good bye and left.” jay commented.
jake rolls his eyes then focuses back on you.
“i love you, sweets. text me whenever you have time or if you got bored with jay.” he jokes, tho he knew you wouldn’t feel that way. his friend is not a boring person and he knew you’ll have a great time with him. its just his way of teasing him.
you chuckled, finding it totally funny. jay swats his friend’s arm.
“you’re so clingy!”
jake just stuck his tongue out before finally walking off. jay sighs and faced you, “he’s so annoying.”
he then opened the car’s door for you.
“he won’t be jake if he don’t tease you guys.” you stated before getting in his car. he carefully secured your spot before he smiles.
“you’re right.” then he closes your door to go around and ride the driver’s seat.
“where’s the store again, baby?” he asks while buckling his seatbelt.
you quickly pulls your phone to check your mom’s message. she texted you about the dress she’s saying a while ago. you told him the name and location of the store. he nods his head and started driving right away.
he lets you connect to the bluetooth of the car for music. a subtle music plays while both of you talks to each other. it was such a chill ride, laughing and teasing each other.
as you arrive at the store, jay parked perfectly and went out to open the door for you. he placed his hand at the small of your back while guiding you inside.
“hi, welcome!” the lady by the counter greets you with a big smile.
“hello, i’m here to pick up a dress.” you gave her the slip that your mom gave you to claim it.
she nods and even ask you to wait. you glanced over jay whose roaming his eyes around the store filled with beautiful dresses. you smiled and leans closer to his body. you felt his hand caress your back as he rest his head on yours.
“what’s the dress for?” he asks.
you pursed your lips at his question, “its for her friend’s birthday party. she’s taking me with her.” then pulls away to look at him.
he stares at your eyes then smiles, “hmm. okay.” and kisses your nose gently.
your heads whipped at the lady when she finally got the dress. it was on your favorite color and looked so cute.
“do you want to try it so we’ll know if the adjustments are perfect?”
“can i?” you asked jay.
he nods without hesitation. “yeah, definitely.”
you nodded and one of the staff guided you inside their hallway where their stalls are located. jay said he’ll be perfectly fine so you don’t have to worry and take your time.
the dress looked good on you. the color compliments you perfectly and the style just fits you. you can’t help but to thank your mom for understanding your style.
“is it good?” the lady at the entrance of the fitting room smiles warmly, admiring how good you look.
you nodded your head, pleased. “yes, thank you so much. its perfect.”
a big satisfied smile spread across her face. “glad you liked it.”
she left you to change back to your original clothes and after that you went to the counter to sign something. she handed you the paper bag and thanked you as you head outside.
jay’s by his car, leaning attractively. you noticed some people craning their necks just to look at the handsome boy. it boost something in you while watching him staring at you with a warm smile. to have all his attention focused on you despite some eyes fixated on him.
“all done, baby?” he asks and hand already reaching for your waist as you approach him.
you nodded and even raised the paperbag.
he smirks then kisses your cheeks as he grab the paperbag from you.
“i have something for you.” he stated that made you look at him with full curiosity.
“what is it?”
he opens the backseat and placed your paperbag inside then he pulls out a beautiful bouquet of flowers. your lips gaps at the sight of it.
“w-what...” you gulped then accept it from him.
“you liked it?” and arms wrapped around your waist once again.
“yes.” and pouts. “what’s it for?”
he tilts his head with a slight furrowed brows. “do i need a reason to give flowers to my beautiful girlfriend?”
that made you blush hard. stomach turning and heart thumping fast, reacting for jay. it was like an automatic response already. to even think that he tugs your heartstrings like how heeseung does is unbelievable.
“thank you so much.” you mumbles cutely that made jay melt.
“anything for you.” and he placed a gentle kiss at your forehead.
the whole ride to his condo unit, you got your eyes fixated at your flowers. he can’t help but to feel proud of it. if this is how you’ll react every time you receive flowers then he will gladly give you all the flowers in the world.
after a few minutes, you noticed that you’re driving inside a very expensive and private condo building. the security itself is tight, but once the guards saw jay’s familiar car they let him through easily.
your mouth gaps while looking around the tall fancy buildings.
“you live here?” you couldn’t help but ask.
he chuckles finding you adorable. “yeah.” he casually said.
you knew that the boys are wealthy. mainly why you’re aware that they get away from their troubles too easily.
“all alone?” your question caught him slightly off-guard.
heeseung lives with his parents and older brother. you’ve been in their house a couple of times. tho you didn’t meet his parents yet, you remembered him mentioning that he lives with him.
jake also lives with his parents. you’ve been in his house once. you met his mom and she’s very sweet.
sunghoon’s house is the nearest to the school. around an expensive private neighborhood. you’ve heard rumors about their million dollar mansion.
“yeah.” jay says. he doesn’t seem sad about it, but you can’t help but to be worried by thinking that he’s alone here.
jay glanced at you and chuckles when he saw how you look at him with so much worry.
“its fine, baby. my mom got that condo for me since our main house is far from the city. she doesn’t want me driving that long all the time.” he comforts you, reaching his hand on you to caress your thighs for consoling.
“don’t you feel lonely?” you ask, still worried.
he shakes his head right away to assure you. he’s also not lying about it. he doesn’t feel lonely at all and he actually like living independently.
“besides, heeseung hyung have a unit at the same floor as mine. he sleeps their from time to time.” he assures you.
“okay.” and finally smiles.
he chuckles, “you can come visit me too, you know?” with a smirk.
that made you blush, but you try to conceal it with playful glares shooting right at him.
“are you kidding? the security is so tight. i doubt i’ll manage to go through it.”
he scoffs, “i’ll let them know that you’re my girlfriend.” he winks that made you roll your eyes.
“you’re so cute.” he commented and finally started parking his car.
after he manages to park, he went out of the car as you patiently wait for him to open the door. he grabs some of your things at the backseat using one of his hand. the other reaches for yours and the two of you walks over the elevator hand in hand.
jay’s condo unit looks so cozy. just by one look you can already tell he picked all the things. it screams so much like him, fits him perfectly.
“make yourself feel at home, baby.” he says.
you slowly walked over the big glass wall to look at the beautiful view in front. the city looks incredibly relaxing. all the cars driving and people walking that looked like toys from the height of his condo unit is amusing.
“hey,” he approaches and caged you in a back hug.
your hand rests at his arms wrapped around you.
“go to my room and change into this.” and he pulls away to hand you a paper bag that has a logo of a very expensive brand.
“what...”
he smiles, “i’ll cook for us then we’ll have dinner at my balcony. sounds good?”
your eyes stares at him and you can’t help but to feel so overwhelmed at how romantic this man is. you nodded your head and accept the paperbag with a clouded mind.
he smirks, “great.” then placed a kiss on your head.
“take your time getting ready. i also asked someone to buy some make up products for you.” he raised a hand and scratch the back of his head, looking a bit shy.
“i’m n-not sure if you use those brands, but—” you threw yourself at him for a tight hug to let him know how much you appreciate his efforts for this.
“thank you so much, jay.”
he melts into your hug and returns it. “no problem, baby.”
you two stayed like that for a few more seconds before you headed to his room and he went to the kitchen to start preparing for the dinner. your heart felt so full just by hearing that he will cook for you.
jay’s really sweet. he got you flowers and this dress. also the make up. you can’t believe he will be this considerate.
his room looks neat. a few guitars displayed at the corner. some liquor bottles at a cabinet. a few pictures that you checked. one with his parents and another one with his friends. they’re all smiling so wide at the picture.
another picture is also the four of them, but it was a younger version of them. they all looked adorable and despite knowing that they have a strong bond, you can’t help but to notice how obvious the difference between their personalities.
heeseung have this small smile, hair fixed perfectly. jake’s smiling so widely and even holds a peace sign by one of his hand. sunghoon’s not smiling at the camera and have one of his eyebrows raised. he looked so snobby. jay have this warm smile that indicates how happy he is while having his friends beside him.
you heard out of all the four, he’s the only one who doesn’t have a sibling. a part of you felt sad for it, because you knew it yourself. you know how it feels having no one to play with and talk to. yes, you have your mom but there are things you cannot share with her. sometimes, you wished you have a sibling.
thankfully jay found it with his friends. a smile spreads on your face while caressing the picture of them using your thumb.
you spent almost two hours preparing for this dinner. a few moments after, you heard a faint knock at jay’s door.
“come in.” you mumbled and soon the door creaks open, revealing jay.
your mouth gaps at how good he looks. he’s wearing this semi formal outfit just to fit the vibe of your dress.
“wow.” he mumbles, eyes fixed at you. his eyes flickers with so much adoration. he always think you are pretty and when he saw that dress, he already know it will look good on you. but now that you’re wearing it, its a different thing.
he walks closer towards you with careful steps. taking time to appreciate how gorgeous you are. it made you blush and makes your heart warm. jay just never fails to make you feel like you’re the prettiest person alive.
“you look breath-taking.” he sincerely said and rests both of his hands on your hips, fingers slightly digging on the skin. he can’t help but to get excited about it.
you giggled and wrapped your arms over his nape. “you look so good too.”
he smiles and leans in for a gentle kiss on your cheeks. “but not as good as you.”
after both of you got satisfied on admiring each other, jay guided you outside the room. he blindfolds your eyes saying he wanted to surprise you with the set up he made himself.
its not very grand, (it is) but still he made effort. regardless, you’re sure you will love it. just how he prepares everything, you’re already more than thankful.
“oh my gosh...” both of your hands flew in your mouth in amusement.
a trail of red roses are made towards his balcondy where a simple yet elegant table was set up for your date. it was perfect.
he laid his hand in front of you with a handsome smile. satisfied with how you reacted. he was thrilled, almost a little nervous, as to how you will take this dinner thing. thankfully, you looked happy about it. with slight tears of joy brimming your eyes, he knew he did a good job.
the two of you walks towards the dinner table and he even pulled a chair for you.
“thank you.” you can’t stop smiling as he sat in front then takes care of you.
he told you the dishes he prepared for tonight and the pure amusement in your eyes didn’t slip off from jay’s eyes.
“you cooked this?” amazed at how it looked like something that will be served at a five star restaurant.
he nods his head, very proud. he tilts his head and asked you to take a bite. just how the meat melts in your mouth is perfect. you aren’t even exaggerating, but it taste so good.
“its perfect, jay! you’re such a good cook!” you exclaimed that made jay smile even bigger. his palm rests on top of chest.
“i’m glad you liked it baby.”
he pours you a glass of champagne. “are we even allowed to...?” your words halts referring to the alcohol when you’re just on your senior highschool.
he laughs, “its fine. just a glass of it won’t hurt.” he assures you.
you nodded, a little excited about it. he saw that and chuckles.
“but make sure not to drink too much baby. i don’t want to take you home drunk. i will be on your mom’s bad side. we don’t want that, do we?”
you laughed lightly and nodded.
the night went on with just the two of you talking about random stuff. he will ask you things he was curious of you and you’ll do the same thing. as the conversation went on and on, you find yourself feeling more comfortable around jay.
“when did you start liking me, jay?” you suddenly asked after remembering heeseung sharing this cute information as to how it all started for him.
somehow it made you curious for the other boy’s version.
jay’s not caught off-guard about it. well, maybe a little but not too much. he sighs and eyes dropped at his almost finished meal. he tilts his head, one hand plays through his wine glass.
“honestly, i was actually a little annoyed at you before.” he revealed with a chuckle.
you instantly got your brows furrowed at this new acquired information.
“what? why?” curious.
he laughs, finding it funny. finding his old self funny for it.
“because of how down bad you got my friends on you.” he started. he stops for a while then let out a sigh.
“i was the last one to discover these feelings for you. i guess its safe to say i was the most denial.” he clicks his tongue. “like i said, i’m kind of annoyed at you.”
your lips pursed, listening attentively.
“i transferred to our school when we’re on nineth grade, remember?” he says and you nodded your head.
jay doesn’t go to your current school before. since his home is far from here, he used to attend somewhere near his house. but he transferred because he wanted to be with his friends. you still remember clearly how the girls in your class went crazy for the new guy, park jongseong.
he was the talk of the whole campus for weeks. saying how perfect he is and how his group of friends are just a bunch of visuals. well, you couldn’t disagree with that.
“even before i can move here, they’re already been talking about this girl nonstop.” he started again then eyes focused on you. “they talk about you like you’re the only girl in the campus.”
your heart thumped faster at what he said.
“i was annoyed because at some point, they don’t give enough attention to my transfer to the school. all they can tell me is how amazing you are.” he chuckles. “out of curiosity and also irritation, i started to watch you from a far just like them. i was convincing myself that i will find something that can make my friends realize that you aren’t that special.” he couldn’t help but to smirk.
“but i just found myself drawn towards you. suddenly i’m not watching you for the main reason i started it. suddenly its because i was caught up, and just like them i fell...” his hand reached over and fingers plays carefully with yours. “and fell continuously until i cannot rise from this feelings anymore.”
your eyes softens and fingers hold his tightly.
“instead of finding reasons for them to unlike you, i found the reasons why they like you so much, baby.”
you pout and eyes watered with so much affection. heart felt so full because of the things he just said. you can’t believe it. jay, despite being the one whose been a little more nicer out of all of them, still felt distant before. his nonchalant demeanour made you think he don’t like you as much as the others. turns out you’re wrong.
“i love you, baby.”
you sniffs and stood up from your chair to approach him. he moves his chair back a little to give you space and let you sit at his lap comfortably.
you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face on the side of his face.
“i love you.” you mumble so gently that knocks out the air out of jay’s heart.
to hear those words straight out from your mouth has a different effect on him. he was at awe for a moment before he finally pulls himself back to his senses. he made you face him and cupped your face affectionately.
“you’re very special to me, y/n. i may not be as expressive as the others as i am afraid to show my vulnerability, but please always remember that i am so soft for you. you are my soft spot.” he said while staring right into your eyes.
“please never forget that.”
you caress his cheeks, “i know how strong of a person you are, jay. but always know that showing weakness doesn’t mean you are not strong. you are a human after all. for me, you’re a very wonderful person.” and with that he leans in for a heated kiss.
his kisses are intense and so is how his hand rests on your face. your eyes shut and just enjoys this moment with jay, hand rests over his shoulder. his open mouthed kiss moves from your lips to your chin, then down to your neck.
“jay..” you moaned.
“i want to fuck you here.” he mumbles that instantly sent your mind afar. you are loss and too caught up in the moment that you barely give a care if his balcony is wide open and free for people to see.
“please...” you mumble that made jay go crazy.
“stand up and lean on the railings.” he instructed that you obliged right away.
your breaths are heavy while you wait full anticipation for jay to get in touch with you once again. the view beneath his balcony is very pretty and honestly add to the feels. you’re too turned on and the arousal is already poisining your right mind to think about anything but jay’s dick.
not long after, his toned chest are pressed on your back. he dips his head and kisses your exposed shoulder blades towards your neck.
“you’re so beautiful.” he compliments as one of his hand rummages to pull your dress up so he can fuck you from the back. “so damn beautiful.” he added then slides your panties to the side.
he has his zipper open and his cock pulled outside, so hard and ready for you. he licks his fingers then strokes his dick a few times before placing the starts trailing your line.
“lets get you wet enough first, hm?” he softly whispered, lips kissing you on your ears.
you whimpered and hand rests at his thigh behind you.
“i don’t want my baby hurting from my big dick.” he chuckles and kept on tracing the line. his dirty words were enough to get you dripping wet for him.
“jay...” you said, out of breath even if you aren’t doing anything.
he chuckles, finding you adorable. “all right, i’m coming in baby.” he whispered then slowly put his cock inside of you.
the stretch made you moan out and whimper softly. once he managed to put it fully, he tries to make you face him.
“give me a kiss.” he demanded that you gave in. the kiss was slightly messy, but you didn’t care.
he asked you to hold on the railings as he started to fuck into you, his large hands dominates your hips. he started slow, enjoying how tight you felt around his cock. but the pleasure it was giving him made it impossible not to go faster.
he started rutting his cock in a faster pace that felt delicious. he groans as he peppered your back with light soft kisses. it was affectionate and honestly started to drive you crazy.
“ugh,” you moaned heavenly at the intensity of how jay’s fucking you at the moment.
his thick cock just slides in and out of you, reaching the parts of your insides that’s been longing for him. one of your hand hold his arm for support as you can feel your knees weakening from too much pleasure.
the breeze are slightly cold but the heat coming from both of your bodies are enough to keep you warm.
“oh my gosh... so good.” you mumble as your eyes rolls at the back of your head. jay’s brows are furrowed as he looks down on your privates connecting. the erotic sounds of your skins slapping making him feel alot of things, arousal being on top of it.
“yeah baby. you’re right.” he says. “you feel so damn good around me.” and he started fucking faster and deeper.
it was so intense and not surprising that you’re reaching your climax already. the familiar knot forming inside your stomach causes you to clench around jay’s throbbing dick. it sends instant pleasure for him, making him groan and moan. he sounded so sexy.
“cumming for me?”
you nodded your head, lips caught in between your teeth.
“me too, baby. i’m close too.” he then continued trying to drive both of you to reach that release.
you came undone to jay’s dick and is a moaning mess after it. he groans heavily and kept on fucking his hot seeds back inside your tight hole.
he made your head turn to face him for a messy kiss, giggling and chuckling in between while still helping both of you in riding your high.
“i love you so much.” he says, connecting your foreheads together.
you managed to pull a small smile, despite being drunk in lust over the climax you just reached. “i love you, jay.” and with that he leans for a peck before smirking.
“let me fuck you on the couch too.” and then started guiding you inside his dim lit condo. the only source of light are from the bright moon and some from the building next to his.
he sat down and helped you get on top of him, carefully placing both of his hands on your waist. he watches how you hold his dick and aligned it perfectly to your entrance. his eyes darted at you and hold a stare while you slowly sunk on his dick making you both moan in pleasure.
jay’s a tough man. he’s very independent and ever since he was a little, he refused to be viewed at the weaker side. he’s known for his nonchalant side, but with you he’s more than willing to show his vulnerable side. the side that melts completely to your soft touches and the side that submits to your soft gaze. he will fully let you take over him whole and he promised he will never regret. he perfectly knew his weakness and she’s right in front of him, looking so beautiful as always.
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permanent tag-list:
@stacey-stonem
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princessbrunette · 4 months ago
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people often ask if rafe is ever nice to puppy!reader. of course he is. he just has to be in the right mood.
it wasn’t any kind of behaviour from you that he wasn’t expecting — you were a pogue for gods sake, and one that acted like a stray dog at best — so when you come running into tanny hill after falling out a nearby tree with a bloody hand, rafe is far from surprised.
“the hell did you do now?” he drawls, instantly lifting you under the arms and walking you like that to the kitchen sink as you sob. it had scared you more than anything, and he could tell straight off looking at it that it wasn’t broken or sprained — just all bloody which made it look a lot worse than it was. rafe had his fair share of accidents growing up, especially getting into fights with guys from your side of the island, so he was used to patching up his own hands and wrists.
he places you infront of the tap, listening to your whines and sniffles as you run your hand under the cold water, watching the red slowly wash away as rafe rummages in the drawers for the first aid kit, exasperatedly opening it up on the kitchen counter. he dabs at your hand with a paper towel, drying it off before rustling around the kit.
“the fuck were you thinking, huh? could have knocked yourself out. maybe that would teach you.” he lectures, but he’s not particularly in the worst mood so there’s no real threat behind it. “keep your hand still, alright?” he mutters, quietly in concentration as he begins to wrap it with a bandage.
but the tears keep coming, so unlike your usual happy silly ways. once you’re all bandaged he lets you snuggle against him there in the kitchen, getting tears and snot all over his polo as he sighs, shaking his head and rubbing your back. when you don’t stop crying, really working yourself into a state he feels he has no choice but to lift you, letting you wrap your legs around his waist and burrow into his shoulder.
“alright— okay, it’s over, it’s done kid— just quit crying. you’re fine.” he bounces you anyway and you calm slightly, feeling better now that he was holding you. he was coming to learn that sometimes that was all you needed and a little bit of kindness and warmth went a long way with him. he told himself he’d work on it because it did not come too naturally.
he’s not sure what else to do in terms of physical comfort, so he does what he knows best and snakes his hand under your denim skirt over your ass where he’s holding you. you quiet down a little more, permitting him, drooling and chewing on the collar of his polo.
“yeah… that better?” he asks once he starts rubbing you over your panties and you let out a loud shaky breath, nodding against him. “m’talkin’ to you kid, speak.”
“yes feels b’tter…” you hiccup and he deflates a little, relaxing into it there and then in the tanny hill kitchen as he continues stroking you, listening to your breathing calm.
soon, he’s fucking your clit with his thumb, knuckles deep with your legs still pinned around his waist, voice cracking and breaking into his shoulder. you let out a particularly loud sob and he tsks.
“hey, don’t start this shit again on me alright? just take it… thats right.” he manages to bounce you a little, forcing his fingers deeper and you go limp, body weight dropping against him even more. “uh-huh. got what you need, don’t i?” he mutters as you groan, unable to speak.
say what you want about rafe, but he’d always help you out when you need it.
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yanderenightmare · 11 months ago
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Bakugou Katsuki x darling
TW: omegaverse, possessiveness, light bullying
part 2
gn reader
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Just thinking about how Alpha Beta Omega classes were always the worst. How the teacher would speak about an Alpha's strength and charisma, a Beta's sense of loyalty, and, of course, all of an Omega's weaknesses. 
It didn’t help that you were the only Omega in school. It also didn’t help that your class featured the only Alpha in school too.
All your life, it’s been a myriad of bullying. Katsuki would be at the helm, all the Betas behind him, eagerly following his every move – then you – trod over in the process. 
“You’re an Omega. You know that means you’re stupid, right?” He’d laugh – his canines gleaming in his grin.
“And weak – Katsuki, don’t forget weak!” His friends would add, hyping him up – making his smile ever sharper.
“Yeah! – stupid, weak, slow, and tiny.” You’d be pushed to the dirt, shadowed by his form, gleaming with pride, blocking out the sun. “Heh- sounds like something that belongs beneath a boot.”
All those classes, all those lessons. It’s not really the teacher’s fault. She’d tried using the most unbiased language she could. She’d only been stating facts – but still… couldn’t they have waited until all of you were a little older to tell everyone all the reasons you were different from them?
Granted. The lessons progressed into different territory when you got older. Talking about pheromones and instincts and mating and breeding – how Omega’s fall prey to something called ruts and heats – and how vulnerable they are when they’re caught in it. 
You were burning with embarrassment in your seat – feeling feverish from the toll of it – knowing how all this new information was going to be like fuel to fire – how Katsuki was going to use it for all it was worth.
You dared glance over at him – sitting by the window – he had an elbow propped on the desk and his head resting in the palm it supported. It didn’t seem like he was paying attention – his face turned away, looking outside instead. You couldn’t tell whether he was listening. You hoped he wasn’t.
But if you’d looked extra close, you’d see the beat red blush on his ear and cheeks.
To your pleasant surprise, Bakugou didn't approach you at all after that. You thought for sure he’d mock you, but it seemed that maybe… he’d grown out of it, perhaps? Either way, you were happy to think he’d forgotten all about you.
If only you knew he was on a mission to ignore you. You hadn’t noticed, too humiliated by the things being said about the nature of Omegas to have listened to what the teacher said about Alphas – and all their strange possessive habits – their need to mark their mate with bites and scent and-
He shuddered.
It’s a complete surprise. He can’t believe all these years he’s wanted you like that. But ever since you were kids, he’s been imprinting on you – chasing you, biting you, coveting you. It’s so embarrassing he can’t believe it. Is this really the reason you piss him off so much?
He knows it is – now; that one look at you has him blushing and his pants tight in the crotch. Fuck – do you even know? Have you known all along?
No… you’re acting like nothing’s amiss. Chatting up extras with an oblivious smile on your face – acting like you don’t belong to him.
How’s he going to keep you in check when you’re going to different schools by next term? How’s he gonna keep others away from you? Shit- what if there are other alphas at the school you’re going to? What if-
Fuck! His chest is pounding so hard and fast it hurts. He’s going to lose you…
You’re trembling – on the verge of tears – when he drags you off behind the school on graduation day.
His face was in his normal scowl.
He hasn’t bothered you all year – why, what-
“You’re gonna wear this at your new school, or you’re not gonna go.” He mutters – his fist shoving a ball of black fabric into your stomach – not hard, but enough to make you flinch. “Don’t wash it. Bring it back to me, and I’ll give you a new one.”
Your brows furrow.
“Every week. Or else I’ll hunt you down.”
He takes a step closer – you yelp as your back hits the wall, then whimper when his nose brushes along your hairline – his breaths hot.
“This’ll let every extra know you already belong to me.”
When he walks away, back in a slouch and hands shoved down his pant pockets – you unravel the mess of black in your hands – revealing a skull-print plastered on a large hoodie.
It smells like Kachan.
part 2
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