#the moment the cicadas cry

[kon-kon-kon-kon]

[ada-armand]

linktr.ee/ada_armand

[haliaiii]

uhhh sketches I did while reading three assassins

[coryndoll]

routledge!reader x rafe, after big john comes back and finds out that both of his kids are dating the camerons, he gets mad, especially at his daughter, cause he thought that she wasn't thinking straight. After a few days, he throws a stupid comment about rafe when they were with the rest of the pogues and reader just snaps at him. pure angst now 🥰 she realises that he's never been a good father, only caring about treasures and yells that she wishes he never came back. Then goes to rafe, crying, for comfort 💕 (i love angst im sorry.)

hold me close

rafe cameron x routledge!reader

warnings: angst, swearing, a kiss, pretty safe !!

authors note: OKAY ik thats trevor n not rafe but erm, we’ll pretend bc that pic is what gives the energy for this oneshot. anyway hii, hope u guys enjoy this one. feel free to send any requests guys! n thank u for 1k followers yesterday. ilyasm <33

you sit in the backyard, the soft hum of cicadas filling the warm night air. the pogues are just behind you, laughing and talking in a huddle. it feels good to see them like this again—normal, for once, after everything.

after the chaos of the last year, of treasure hunts, betrayals, and close calls. you’ve always tried to stay out of it, letting john b and the others chase after the gold while you lived your life. but eventually, you couldn’t stay on the sidelines, not when rafe got involved, not when it became a matter of life and death.

it’s been hard, being stuck between two sides, torn between your brother and your boyfriend. but tonight, you just want peace.

you glance over at your dad, sitting a little ways away from the group, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin on his face. big john routledge—alive, after these three years. you still can’t believe it sometimes.

he looks different, a little more worn, a little rougher around the edges, but the way he carries himself hasn’t changed. he’s still larger than life, still full of stories, still your dad. and god, you missed him.

he catches your eye, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed. like you’re just a kid again, sitting with your dad, listening to him talk about his crazy ideas, his wild adventures.

“you know,” he starts, leaning forward, “i remember that time you and john b tried to catch that fish out by the dock, and you both fell in. i swear, i thought i was gonna have to drag you two out myself,” he says, chuckling to himself, shaking his head like the memory is some long-lost treasure of its own.

you smile, even though it feels a little bittersweet. “yeah,” you murmur under your breath.

you pull at a piece of grass by your feet, your fingers absentmindedly tearing at it. you’ve waited so long for this moment—for him to come back, for your family to feel whole again.

but now that he’s here, you don’t know what to do with it. you can’t shake the feeling that something’s changed, that he’s not just the dad you remember, but something else entirely. still, you can’t help but feel like the little girl who always looked up to him, who wanted nothing more than to make him proud.

“i never thought we’d see you again,” you mumble, your voice low, barely above a whisper. you don’t look up from the grass, your fingers still picking at the blades, but you can feel his gaze on you.

“i never thought i’d be back either,” he admits quietly. “but i couldn’t stop thinking about you two. every day out there . . . i thought about coming home.”

you scoff softly, a bitter smile pulling at your lips, even though you don’t mean for it to. “but you didn’t,” you say, barely above a whisper. “you didn’t come back for three years.”

he shifts in his seat, his fingers tapping against the arm of the chair. “it wasn’t that simple, y/n,” he says. “i was trying to protect you. there are dangerous people out there, people who want what we’re after. i couldn’t come back until i knew it was safe.”

you nod, but it’s a hollow gesture. you’ve heard it all before from other people—the excuses, the treasure, the danger. it always comes back to that.

you glance at your friends, laughing and sharing stories with each other. you’ve spent so long trying to push this life aside, to live outside of the mess of treasure hunts and betrayals. but it always pulls you back in.

“yeah, you always did put the treasure first,” you murmur as you face forward again. you’re not even sure if you mean to say it out loud. it’s more to yourself, just a thought that’s been living in the back of your mind for too long.

“don’t do that.” he leans forward, his voice soft, almost pleading. “i did it for you and john b,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “for our family. i wanted us to have something—something big, something that would change everything.”

“yeah, but we didn’t need that,” you say, your voice small, but firm. you’re still pulling at the grass, twisting it around your fingers. “we just needed you.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment. it’s like he’s trying to figure out what to say, but there’s nothing that can fix the years of distance. nothing that can make up for what you lost when he left.

there’s a long silence, and for a moment, you think maybe this is as close as you’ll ever get to understanding each other. you don’t want to fight tonight. you just want to sit with him, to pretend that things could go back to how they were before.

“so,” he starts again, his tone shifting back to playful, like he’s trying to lighten the mood, “you and john b teaming up with the others to chase down treasure? guess it runs in the family.”

you laugh, but it’s a little forced. “yeah, well, i tried to stay out of it. but . . .”

“but what?” he presses, leaning forward with a smirk. “got a little taste of adventure, didn’t you?”

you glance up at the marsh, a faint smile on your lips. “something like that,” you mutter.

but you don’t mention rafe, don’t mention how he’s become a part of this tangled mess, how hard it’s been being caught between him and your family. you’ve already told your dad the day you reunited a few days ago in barbados. didn’t end well that time either. you don’t want to ruin the moment, don’t want to start another fight.

but, as if the universe is reading your mind, your dad shifts the conversation in a way that makes your stomach drop. “just promise me,” he says, suddenly serious, “you won’t let that rafe cameron kid get too close. he’s no good, y/n.”

the words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you just sit there, staring at him. it takes you a second to process what he’s said, to even understand the casual way he’s dismissed rafe, like it’s nothing. like he’s nothing.

“and i hear john b’s with sarah now, too?” his tone shifts, bitter and disapproving. “so now both of my kids are wrapped up with the camerons. hell of a choice you both made.”

you freeze, your stomach tightening. there it is. you knew it was coming, but it still hits you like a punch to the gut. it’s not the first time he’s made a comment about rafe, and you thought you were doing the right thing confessing what’s changed since you last saw him, but now he’s dragging john b into it, and that makes it worse. so much worse.

“dad,” you start, trying to keep your voice steady, but there’s an edge to it, a warning. “don’t.”

he shakes his head like you’ve said something ridiculous. “no, i am gonna say something. sarah, rafe, they’re cameron’s kids. ward cameron’s kids. you’re smart enough to know better than to get mixed up with people like him. they’re bad news. always have been.”

“yeah, but they’re not like him,” you snap, your voice sharper than you intended. “sarah’s not ward. rafe’s not ward. they’re not their father.”

he just laughs, but there’s no humor in it. it’s harsh. “you really believe that?” he asks, shaking his head again. “they’re camerons. it’s in their blood. you think you’re any safer with rafe than you were without me here? because i’m telling you right now, you’re not.”

you stand up, your hands balled into fists at your sides. you’ve heard enough. for days now, you’ve listened to him make little digs about rafe, about the camerons, and you’ve kept your mouth shut. but tonight, it’s too much. you can’t keep it in anymore.

“three years, dad. three years you were gone, chasing your stupid treasure, while we were stuck here. john b and i had to figure it out on our own. so don’t stand there and act like you have any right to tell me who i should or shouldn’t be with.”

big john looks at you, stunned, like he’s seeing you for the first time. but you’re not done. there’s too much you’ve kept bottled up, and now it’s all spilling out.

“you care more about that gold than you ever did about us,” you say. “you care more about treasure than you do about being a father. you don’t know anything.”

big john’s face hardens, his jaw clenching as he stares at you. “i know enough,” he says, his voice cold. “i know who the camerons are.”

“yeah?” you snap, your voice breaking. “well, maybe if you’d been here, you’d actually know something about me too.”

you turn on your heel, ready to storm off, but the moment you move, you notice it.

the pogues are silent now, all of them watching. sarah, jj, pope, kie—they’re still, their conversations dropped as they stand there, wide-eyed and uneasy. john b, though, he’s just sitting there with his can of beer held low in his hands, lips pressed together. you can tell he’s heard it all before. he’s not going to step in because he knows you need to let it out.

you’re just done with it. you take a step forward, ready to leave this backyard and the suffocating tension behind. but something stops you, a feeling gnawing at your chest, pulling you back. you hesitate, turning just enough to glance at your dad over your shoulder.

he’s still staring at you, his expression set like stone, as if he’s waiting for you to say more, to take it all back, maybe. but you won’t. not now.

your voice wavers, but it’s steady enough. “i wish you never came back.”

his face doesn’t move, but something flickers in his eyes. you don’t wait for him to respond. you turn away for good this time and walk out, leaving the backyard behind.

before you know it, you’re at rafe’s house, your knuckles rapping against the door almost frantically. you pace, glancing down at your phone, watching as the notifications keep coming—texts from john b, a few from kie, and even jj. they're all asking the same thing: ‘ where are you? ’ or ‘ are you okay? ’

you drag your hand down your face, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. before you can get lost in your thoughts, the door swings open, and there he is.

rafe stands in the doorway, his expression unreadable. he leans against the doorframe for a second, his lips slightly parted, taking you in. you know he’s already pieced together what’s happened from the voice messages you left on the way over. not that he’s the type to acknowledge it with some grand gesture or comforting words.

he doesn’t say anything, but he steps aside without much ceremony. you slip past him and leave your phone in the foyer, tossing it carelessly on the side table as you pass, the pinging of messages finally fading into the background.

you make your way down the hallway, not even sure where you’re going, but your feet carry you to the living room. rafe follows close behind, his presence looming, but not overbearing. his eyes are trained on you, watching as you take in the dimly lit room. there’s a bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table, a glass next to it, already finished. it’s so rafe—quiet, controlled chaos.

you stop, your breath shaky, your chest tight, and before you can hold it back, everything comes spilling out.

“he doesn’t get it, rafe. he just doesn’t fucking get anything,” you start, your voice louder than you intend. you turn to face him, your hands gesturing wildly as you try to make sense of the mess of emotions coursing through you. “i mean, he’s been gone for years, and he comes back, and suddenly he thinks he can just . . . control everything? like he gets to have an opinion about my life after everything he’s done. he doesn't even know me anymore.”

rafes eyes are fixed on you, and he’s listening, letting you get it out. his jaw twitches slightly, but he stays silent, just watching as you unravel in front of him.

“and it’s like . . . it’s like no matter what i do, no matter how hard i try, it’s never enough! not for him, not for john b, not for anyone!” your voice cracks, and you press your palms against your temples, trying to hold yourself together, but the tears are already brimming, threatening to spill over. “i didn’t ask for any of this. i didn’t ask to be stuck in the middle of all this shit with my family and you and . . . god, it’s too much.”

you turn away from him, your breath coming out in shallow gasps now as you try to steady yourself. but it’s no use. you’re falling apart, and it feels like the weight of everything is finally crushing you.

before you can say another word, rafe steps forward, his arms sliding around you in one swift motion. “alright, alright, c’mere,” he murmurs, his voice soft but firm. “c’mon.”

you collapse into him, burying your face into his chest, the tears coming freely now. he holds you tight, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head as his hand rubs slow circles on your back.

rafe’s not one for words, and you don’t expect him to be, but this—this is enough. the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his arms keep you grounded, it’s enough to make the world stop spinning for just a moment.

you don’t say anything else. neither does he. the silence stretches on, but it’s not uncomfortable. for once, you feel like you can breathe.

even though he’s holding you, his mind seems elsewhere—his jaw clenched, muscles rigid beneath the surface. it’s not hard to guess where his thoughts have drifted, especially after everything you told him in those voice messages.

you can tell he’s upset. not just because you’re upset, but because of what your dad said—about him, about his family. his body is stiff as he holds you, and you know him well enough to see the silent anger simmering just beneath the surface. his eyes aren’t on you; they’re somewhere distant, staring past you as if he’s imagining your father’s words in his head.

“i’m sorry about what he said, rafe,” you whisper into his chest, feeling the way his breathing shifts, more shallow now, controlled. “he said something about sarah and john b, too.”

he doesn’t respond right away, but you feel his hand pause against your back, fingers pressing a little harder. for a moment, it feels like he might pull away, but instead, he just tightens his grip on you. his silence speaks volumes. rafe is the type to internalize everything, to let it fester until it boils over, but you can feel it now—the tension thrumming through his entire body.

“doesn’t matter,” he finally mutters, though you can tell by the way his voice is low, that it does. “it’s nothing i haven’t heard before.”

you pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him, and his eyes flick down to meet yours. they’re darker than usual, clouded with frustration, but he still tries to soften his expression for you.

“he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” you say quietly. “he doesn’t know you.”

for a moment, neither of you speaks. rafe’s hand resumes its slow, steady motion against your back, though the tension hasn’t fully left his body. you can feel the war going on inside him—the part of him that’s angry, defensive, but also the part that’s trying to be here for you, to let go of his own frustration long enough to comfort you.

“fuck him,” rafe mutters after a long silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “he doesn’t get to talk about you like that. or me.”

there’s a dangerous edge to his voice now, but you know it’s not directed at you. he’s angry, not just at your dad, but at the situation—the impossible mess you’ve both found yourselves in, caught between your family and his.

“i don’t care what he thinks,” you murmur, holding onto him tighter. “i’m here with you. that’s all that matters.”

he doesn’t respond, but his hand moves to the back of your neck, his fingers curling gently into your hair as he exhales, long and slow, like he’s finally letting go of whatever was eating at him.

for the first time tonight, the room feels quiet as the two of you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms.

you’re gazing up into his eyes, searching for something—comfort, understanding, maybe a little reassurance. your hands find their way up his shoulders, one resting gently on his collarbone while the other slides higher, rubbing the area around his ear and jaw.

“you know that i love you,” you murmur, your voice soft but steady, as if the confession can dissolve the tension still hanging in the air.

rafe stares down at you, and in that moment, you can see everything in his eyes. he’s never loved anyone more than he loves you—the way you stood your ground against your own dad tonight, defending yourself and defending him and his family. it’s a vulnerable space, one he doesn’t often let himself occupy, but with you, it feels different.

he nods, pressing his lips together as if trying to hold back a flood of emotion. then, with a sudden urgency, he leans down and kisses you deeply. the taste of whiskey lingers on his lips. it’s a kiss that speaks of everything unspoken.

but just as quickly as it begins, he pulls away and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. you close your eyes into the gesture, feeling the warmth of his lips linger against your skin.

rafe goes back to resting his chin on your head, his breath steady as he holds you close again. you breathe in his familiar scent, a mix of sea salt and something distinctly rafe, and let the silence wrap around you like a comforting blanket.

in this moment, nothing else matters. not the fights, not your dad’s harsh words, not the stupid tangled web of family and expectations.

just you and him, together, holding onto each other for as long as you can.

[narcoticv3nus]

Chasing Ghosts ♡ Simon “Ghost” Riley

Kinktober Day XXII: Hybrids

summary: you’re a bunny hybrid taking a short walk in the woods you think you’re all alone until you’re not tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, dubcon, p in v, fingering, praise, degradation, rough sex, predator!simon, threats of unaliving, panther!simon, prey!reader, bunny!reader, dom!simon, sub!reader, animalistic sex, crying, virgin!reader wc: 4.4k

MASTERLIST

The air was heavy with humidity, each breath infused with the earthy aroma of rain-soaked grass and damp soil. As you cautiously navigated the lush, dewy terrain beneath your feet, the vivid sounds of nature surrounded you. The rhythmic chorus of cicadas filled the air, harmonizing with the cheerful melodies of birdsong flitting about in the trees above. Sunlight poured down, its warmth contrasting sharply with the cool, wet ground, creating a vibrant tableau of summer life. Each step sent tiny droplets of water shimmering in the light while the foliage glistened like emeralds, alive with the vivid colors of the season.

As you ventured deeper into the wilderness, each step squelched delightfully in the thick, wet mud that oozed between your toes, a cool contrast to the sweltering heat that had wrapped around you like a heavy blanket. The sun hung high in the sky, casting dappled shadows that danced across the forest floor. You had wandered farther from the safety of your home than intended, and an instinctive alertness sharpened your senses.

With every rustle of leaves or distant snap of a twig, your ears twitched, straining to pick up the faintest of sounds—the chirping of birds, the rustle of small creatures in the underbrush, a whisper of wind through the branches. Each new smell caught your attention, from the earthy scent of wet ground to the sweet, musky aroma of wildflowers. You inhaled deeply, letting the fragrances mingle in your mind, a lively tapestry of the world around you, eager to commit them to memory.

Unbeknownst to you, a cunning predator lay in wait, his gaze fixed intently on you—the small, diminutive rabbit hybrid. From his concealed position, shrouded in the thick underbrush, his sharp brown eyes transformed into narrow slits, capturing every moment of your delicate movements. The soft rustling of leaves accompanied the lazy flick of his tail as he crouched low amidst the ferns and bushes, ready to strike any moment. The air was thick with tension; each breath he took was a silent testament to his growing anticipation.

He admired your determination despite your obvious fear—the subtle tremors in your legs, the near-constant twitch of your ears. His heartbeat remained steady, a testament to his years of experience in this unforgiving environment. A predator at the top of the food chain, he was drawn to your vulnerability, his body instinctively reacting to the potential conquest.

“Who goes there?” he called out, his deep voice rolling like distant thunder. There was no malice in his tone, merely curiosity tinged with authority. He wanted to gauge your reaction, to see if you were a worthy addition to his territory or simply another lost soul who would fall prey to its perils. He allowed himself a small smile, anticipating the thrill of the chase and the satisfaction of claiming you for himself.

A jolt of terror surged through your veins as you soared into the air, mud flying in chaotic arcs, splattering your clothes in the dark, clinging patches. Heart racing, you spun around, your head darting from side to side as you strained to pinpoint the source of the haunting voice that echoed through the stillness. The world felt suspended then; each sound amplified as anticipation gripped you tighter.

Chuckling to himself at your startled reaction, the human panther emerged from his cover with a smooth grace that belied his muscular frame. The sunlight glinted off the black fur of his ears and tail, casting an ethereal aura around him as he prowled closer. His movements were calculated and deliberate—like a predator stalking its prey. He reveled in his power over you, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger that only added to his menacing allure.

“Easy there,” he purred, his voice low and soothing despite the underlying threat. “No need to fear the shadows. You've got nothing to worry about… unless you're planning on causing trouble in my territory.” He studied you intently, noting the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the erratic pulse at the base of your neck. You were frightened, but there was something else there, too—curiosity? Intrigue? Either way, it made his blood sing with excitement. He took another step closer, his tail twitching in anticipation.

“What brings a little thing like you to these parts?”

Overwhelmed by fear, you found yourself lost for words as you gazed up at him, your eyes wide and shimmering like saucers. Your small hands trembled involuntarily, each twitching a reflection of the panic coursing through your veins, leaving you paralyzed in place.

His grin widened slightly at your paralysis, his chest rumbling with a low, approving purr. You were just as he liked them—scared but not broken. As you stared at him, fear-ridden and trembling, he took the opportunity to assess you more thoroughly. Your delicate form was intriguing—small enough to fit within the palm of his hand, yet there was something undeniably alluring about you. Your fear was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but wonder how you would react when he finally claimed you.

He crouched down lower, his movements deliberate and non-threatening, as if he were trying to coax a wild animal to approach him. “No need to be afraid,” he repeated, voice still calm and soothing. He allowed his tail to brush lightly against your leg, testing your boundaries and waiting for any sign of resistance or submission.

“I…” Your voice trailed off, soft and airy like a gentle breeze, as you found yourself lost in the endless depths of his onyx eyes. The intensity of his gaze felt like a magnetic pull, drawing you in yet making it hard to hold contact. You cast your eyes downward, feeling a blush creep across your cheeks. “I got lost,” you confessed, your words barely above a whisper tinged with vulnerability as you avoided the weight of his stare.

A low growl of disbelief escaped his lips. Lost? In his territory? He didn’t buy it for a second. Prey never wandered in here accidentally. They knew better. But still, something about you piqued his interest. Perhaps the innocence seemed to radiate from you like a warm aura, or maybe it was the way you submitted so quickly to his dominance. He leaned closer, inhaling deeply to catch your scent. It was intoxicating—floral with a hint of something sweet, like freshly picked berries. His body hummed with arousal, and he could feel his instincts taking over.

“Look at me,” he commanded, voice firm and unwavering. When you hesitantly raised your eyes to meet his, he continued, “Lost, huh? That’s not a good excuse for trespassing.” He let the implied threat hang heavy between them, his gaze never wavering from yours. He could see the wheels turning in your mind as you searched for an explanation that might appease him, and he relished every second of it.

“But I suppose I can make exceptions... under the right circumstances.” He allowed one clawed finger to trail down your arm, sending goosebumps across your skin.

“Thank you…” you murmured, letting out a shaky breath that trembled in the air around you. The gravity of the moment pressed against your chest, and you fought to blink away the hot tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, each one a reflection of the fear that gripped your heart.

His expression softened slightly at your response, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride. The fear rolling off you in waves was intoxicating, and he wanted more. The panther leaned closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he spoke, “Tell me, little rabbit, why should I let you live?”

He could feel the heat radiating off your body, the rapid beat of your heart drumming in his ears like a symphony. It was music to his predatory soul. He let his claw graze gently across your collarbone, enjoying how you flinched at his touch. The thought sent a surge of arousal straight to his groin.

You let out a whimper at his words, squeezing your eyes shut as his claw pressed against the center of your throat. You swallowed your spit, feeling the sharp pressure dig deeper.

As the breath rushed out of your lungs, it felt as though a heavy weight pressed against your chest, trapping you in a suffocating grip. Your throat constricted painfully, leaving you gasping and helpless, the air just out of reach. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks, each one a silent testament to the turmoil inside, while you sniffled softly, a mix of vulnerability and despair.

A dark smile twisted across his lips as you cried beneath his touch. The sound sent shivers down his spine, only fueling his desire for control. He pressed his claw ever so slightly harder against your delicate throat, enjoying your reaction. Your vulnerability was like a drug, and he wanted more.

He leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear, “Answer me,” he growled, his voice low and menacing. He could feel his cock hardening in his pants as pictures of taming such a delicate creature flashed in his mind.

“Why should I spare you?” He repeated, applying a little more pressure. His thumb stroked the pulse point beneath his claw, feeling it race wildly beneath his touch.

“I don't know…” you whined, wheezing underneath him. You couldn't come up with anything to say to him, your instincts telling you to run as fast and far as you could, but you knew you couldn't outrun him. You were stuck.

“Please…” you begged, your chin trembling, tears slipping between your lips and down your neck.

His smile turned feral; he loved it when prey begged for mercy; it showed how far they would go to survive. He leaned back slightly, his eyes scanning your trembling form as he considered his options.

“That’s not a very convincing answer, little rabbit.” He retracted his claws from your throat, giving you a brief respite, only to slide his hand down to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear.

“You’ll have to do better than that if you want to live.” The heat from his hand was almost unbearable against your cold, wet skin, but the tenderness of the gesture was surprisingly gentle.

He wanted to see you fall apart underneath him, hear you scream his name until your voice gave out. But first, he needed to listen to you beg correctly. “Tell me,” he whispered huskily, his thumb tracing your lower lip.

“What will you do for me?” His voice clarified the implication, and he could practically taste your fear.

You blinked at him, your thoughts racing as you processed his words. The room felt charged with anticipation, and you could sense the weight of his expectations hanging in the air.

“Any—anything!” you exclaimed, your voice rising above your usual quiet, the urgency spilling out before you could rein it in. At that moment, nothing else mattered; your heart raced, and the noise around you faded into nothingness. All that remained was the spark of possibility in his gaze.

His eyes flashed at your eager response. You were quicker to break than he had expected, but then again, rabbits were known for their fragility. He could feel the thrill of victory coursing through his veins as his cock throbbed in his pants, straining against the confines of his clothing.

“Good,” he purred, his hand sliding down your neck and between your breasts, pausing at the swell of your cleavage.

“Then prove it.” He pushed you slightly, urging you to get on your knees. His fingers traced the fabric of your clothes, teasing the sensitive skin underneath, before resting at your waistband.

He growled softly as you obediently obliged, his voice thick with lust and hunger. He undid the button of his pants, pulling out his length. It bobbed heavily in front of your face, demanding attention.

“Use your mouth.” The order was simple yet held so much weight. He could hear your pulse racing faster and your breath hitching at the sight of him.

You sat on your knees, feeling the wet grass scrape against your skin. You were taken aback by the abruptness of the situation unfolding right before you. The unexpectedness of it all sent a rush of adrenaline through your veins. You could feel the sun's warmth on your skin, starkly contrasting the chill of anxiety creeping in. As your heart raced, you licked your lips, the taste of anticipation mingling with the pooling saliva in your mouth, a physical reminder of the gravity of what was happening.

You lifted your gaze to meet his, your lips slightly parted as you took deep, steadying breaths, trying to soothe the fluttering anxiety within you. “I’ve—I've never…” you began, your voice trembling with the weight of your admission.

He smirked, raising an eyebrow at your confession. “Never?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice. The thought excited him further, knowing that he would be the one to break you, to claim you. His fingers traced the side of your face, his thumb grazing your cheekbone.

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, “I’ll teach you everything you need to know,” he promised sultrily.

“But first, you have to show me you’re willing.” He gripped your chin firmly, forcing your gaze back to his arousal. “Open up for me,” he commanded, his tone low and dominant. You could sense his excitement and approval, the heat radiating off his body, and how his tail swished behind him.

You braced your hands against his thighs, opening your mouth wider, flicking your eyes back up to his face to gauge his reaction.

He watched you closely, approval flickering in his eyes as his fingers tightened around your chin, guiding you closer to his cock. As your soft lips enveloped the tip, he let out a low groan, his hips jerking slightly in pleasure.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, “take it all in.” He pushed your head down slowly, savoring the sensation of your warmth engulfing him. He could feel your hesitancy, but your willingness to try only made it hotter. As you began to move your lips along his length, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride at having you submit so readily. He tilted his head to the side, closing his eyes and letting the waves of pleasure roll through him.

“Deeper,” he growled, his grip on your head becoming firmer as he thrust shallowly into your mouth, guiding your movements to match his rhythm.

His eyes remained closed, relishing in the sensation of your lips wrapped around him. His tail twitched erratically as you tried to keep up with his pace. He knew you were struggling but couldn’t bring himself to ease up. The feel of your mouth on him was too good, too enticing.

He could hear your soft whimpers, which only fueled his arousal. A dark grin curved against his lips. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice thick with desire. He felt you gag slightly and paused, pulling back to allow you to catch your breath. His thumb traced your bottom lip, smearing precum across your face.

“You’re learning,” he purred before pushing your head back onto him. He began to thrust again, this time harder and deeper. Simon’s eyes snapped open, his gaze locking onto your watery ones.

He enjoyed watching you struggle to please him, your small form trembling beneath his firm grip. His hips moved in rhythm with your mouth, setting a pace that he knew would bring him closer to release.

“Use your tongue,” he instructed, his voice low and commanding. “Show me how much you want it.” As you obeyed, licking and sucking fervently, he couldn’t hold back a moan of satisfaction. He reached down to stroke your long ears, his movements becoming more erratic as pleasure built within him. The sound of your muffled whimpers only added to the experience.

“That’s right,” he growled, feeling himself growing closer to climax, and tightened his grip on your head, holding you firmly in place as he thrust deeper. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice husky with lust. “Say it.”

You pulled back, hollowing your cheeks and flicking your tongue along his veins, pressing against his frenulum. With his tip pressed against your lips and your nails sinking into his skin.

“M’yours,” you mumbled, dragging your tongue across his tip, licking up the salty droplets slipping from the slit. Your eyelids fell halfway, and your mind began to fall deeper into a subspace.

A rumble of approval vibrated through Simon’s chest at your words, feeling a surge of power and possession. “Mmm,” he groaned, “good bunny.” He stroked your head encouragingly, pressing his thumb against your cheek. “Just like that,” he praised, his voice thick with desire.

The sight of you like this - submissive, eager to please - ignited a primal instinct within him. His hips moved involuntarily, pushing his cock towards your waiting lips. As you wrapped them around him once more, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy. He allowed himself to sink deeper into the moment, letting the sensations wash over him.

“Fuck yes,” he growled, his grip on your head tightening again. He thrust deeper into your mouth, feeling the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. His tail lashed behind him, betraying his mounting pleasure.

“Take it,” he ordered, pushing himself further into your mouth. His eyes snapped open, locking onto your half-lidded gaze, watching you submit to his every whim. He could see the trust and surrender in your expression, which only made him harder.

“You’re mine,” he repeated, his voice husky with arousal. “Mine to use, mine to protect.” He pushed himself deeper still, holding you in place until he felt his orgasm building. With a final thrust, he released himself into your mouth, growling with satisfaction as you swallowed every drop. He released you, stroking your hair softly as he caught his breath.

“Good,” he praised, “very good.” His voice was calm and controlled once more, the moment's intensity having passed.

You preened at his praise, your chest puffing in pride before resting your cheek against his thigh, wrapping your arms around his leg, purring softly as you gazed up at him. Your soft tail twitched against your lower back, its soft touch offering you a sense of comfort.

His fingers traced idly through your silky hair, “Look at you,” he murmured, a hint of amusement in his deep voice, “so eager to please.” His hand moved up to gently caress your cheek, his thumb brushing away the drool that clung to your lower lip.

He leaned down, capturing your gaze with his intense one. “You did well,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. He lifted your chin with a single finger, tilting your face upwards so he could claim your lips in a slow, possessive kiss. His tongue swept across yours, tasting himself on you before delving deeper, exploring the warm cavern of your mouth. Without words, he wanted you to know who you belonged to - who owned every part of you. When he pulled away, his breathing was ragged.

“But don’t think this means you’re safe,” he warned, his eyes flashing dangerously. “You’re still my prey.” The words were spoken softly, but there was no mistaking the threat behind them. He stood then, towering over your small form.

“Get up,” he ordered, offering you a hand. “We’re not finished here.” His grip was firm but not harsh as he pulled you to your feet. He led you towards a large tree, pressing you against it, his body pinning yours against the rough bark. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You’ll learn your place,” he whispered, his voice dark and promising.

He trailed his free hand down your torso, feeling the slight tremble in your body as his fingers traced along your curves. He reached the hem of your top, swiping through it with one claw and letting it fall to the floor in tatters, revealing your naked form to his greedy eyes.

He growled low in his throat at the sight of your exposed flesh, his hunger for you growing stronger by the second. His hand moved to cup one of your breasts, his thumb rubbing circles around the nipple as it hardened under his touch. He could hear the rapid beat of your heart against his chest, feel your quickened breaths against his neck.

His eyes narrowed in appreciation at your obedience, noting how you arched into his touch, your soft purrs music to his ears. He leaned down, capturing your lips in another dominant kiss, claiming every inch of your mouth. He felt your small, delicate hands fumble against his chest before sliding around his back, your nails lightly scraping his skin. A low rumble of approval sounded in his throat, and he deepened the kiss further, letting you know who was in charge. Breaking away, he murmured against your lips, “Good girl.”

His hands moved to your waist, lifting you slightly so you could wrap your legs around him. He supported your weight effortlessly, the muscles in his arms flexing under your touch. His fingers trailed along your exposed skin, eliciting shivers as he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts. With a single swift motion, he pulled them down, revealing your lower half. He stepped back, admiring the sight of you pressed against the tree, completely bare and at his mercy.

“Beautiful,” he praised, licking his lips. He placed a hand on the trunk beside your head, caging you in with his larger form. His other hand traced down your body, stopping at the juncture of your thighs. He could feel your heat radiating against his palm, and he couldn’t resist sliding a finger between your folds. You gasped, your hips jerking forward slightly at the contact. He smirked, his feline eyes gleaming. He circled your clit lazily, enjoying the feel of your body reacting to his touch.

“Mine,” he growled possessively before dipping his finger inside you. He savored the feel of your wetness around his finger, your body quivering under his touch. His thumb continued to circle your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you moan. Your reactions only fueled his desire, his cock straining against his pants. He leaned in, nipping at your earlobe, eliciting your whimper.

He slowly removed his finger, causing you to whine softly in protest. Chuckling darkly, he pressed his lips against your neck, sucking and biting gently, leaving a trail of marks that would brand you as his. He reached down, positioning himself at your entrance, the tip teasing your wet folds.

With one powerful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely. You cried out, your body tensing around him. He hissed in pleasure, holding still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. Once your body relaxed slightly, he began to move, setting a steady rhythm that had you moaning and writhing against him.

He loved the feeling of your tight walls clamping down on him, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to hold on. He moved one hand to your breast, teasing your nipple until it peaked beneath his fingers. Your pants turned to whimpers as he picked up the pace, his hips slamming into yours with ferocity.

The predator smirked, enjoying your desperate attempts to keep up with his relentless pace. Your whimpers and gasps spurred him further, driving him to push you closer to the edge. He pinched your nipple lightly, eliciting a sharp cry from you, and he knew you were close. He leaned his head back, savoring the sensations coursing through his body. His tail swished lazily behind him, the end twitching as he thrust deeper into you.

He could hear the soft thud of your body against the tree trunk, each impact punctuating the sounds of your combined ragged breaths and wet flesh meeting. His grip tightened on your hip, guiding your movements as he drove himself further into your warmth. He was so close, but he needed you to come undone first. His thumb circled your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you squirm.

“Come for me,” he growled against your ear, nipping at the lobe again. Your whimpers grew louder, your body tensing as your orgasm built. He could feel your walls contracting around him, milking him, urging him toward his climax. He increased his pace, each thrust becoming more powerful, more demanding. He watched your face contorted in pleasure; your eyes squeezed shut as you bit down on your bottom lip. And then, with a final gasp, you fell apart, your body convulsing around him as you rode out your release.

He couldn’t hold back any longer. With one final growl, he released his seed deep inside you, claiming you once more. He held you there, panting heavily, until the last tremors subsided. Only then did he pull away, tucking himself back into his pants. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that streaked down your face.

“Pretty bunny,” he praised, his voice still rough with desire. He kissed your forehead softly before releasing you, letting you slump against the tree to catch your breath.

His eyes narrowed, watching you closely as you struggled to regain your composure. He savored the sight of you, flushed and spent against the tree trunk. Despite the tenderness of his last action, he reminded himself that this was still a game of survival - one he intended to win. He knew you were vulnerable now, but he also knew you were resilient. He needed to keep pushing to make sure you understood your place.

“Don’t think that was enough,” he murmured, his voice still thick with arousal. “You’re mine until I say otherwise.” His hand trailed down your arm before spinning you around, pressing you against the tree again, his body still radiating heat against yours. “Do you understand?” His grip on your wrists tightened, pulling them above your head so you were entirely at his mercy.

“You belong to me.” He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to protect what’s mine.” With that, he released one of your wrists, his hand sliding down your body to cup your breast, squeezing gently. His thumb teased your nipple, eliciting another moan from you. He smirked, satisfied that you were still so responsive to him.

“Now,” he said, his tone firm, “we continue. You’re going to walk ahead of me, nice and slow.” He released your other wrist, allowing you to move away from the tree. His hand rested on the small of your back, guiding you forward.

“And if you try to run,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous, “I’ll just have to catch you again.” His fingers traced along the curve of your waist, his nails digging in just enough to remind you of his presence. “And trust me, little rabbit,” he purred, “you won’t enjoy it nearly as much.”

main masterlist, rules

[delulustateofmind]

Childhood

Description: Childhood friends to...? Geto Suguru x Reader

TW: ANGST, NO HAPPY ENDING, Mentions of abuse (physical and implied sexual), Blood, Bullying. Reader dies.

WC: 6.6k (yeesh)

A/n: I love a good childhood friends to lovers trope for Suguru. It just fits him. I might post the draft where reader lives, but I might just keep that locked away, who knows.

You remember the first day you met Geto Suguru.

Your next-door neighbor with boyish charm, he wasn't shy by any means. He didn’t have the long, flowing hair he does now; instead, he sported a short buzzcut for the summer, a style that made him look mischievous and carefree. His violet eyes, striking even then, seemed almost too bright for the hot days when the cicadas sang their relentless chorus, a contrast to the warmth of his presence. You remember how he would grab your hand with an excitement that buzzed through your skin, dragging you around the playground, his laughter breaking through the sticky summer air like a sudden, refreshing breeze.

You also remember the rainy days that painted the world in shades of gray, days when the air smelled of damp earth and rain pattered softly against your small umbrella. Suguru would stand in front of you, brows furrowed in concentration as he tied your raincoat around you. He would bite his tongue, the tip of it peeking out, as he fumbled with the stubborn knots and clasps. You were both in kindergarten, small and unbothered by anything except the world you built together. He’d let out a triumphant sigh, eyes crinkling as he said, “There, now you won’t get sick!” His voice carried a blend of childish authority and genuine care that made your heart flutter even then. Before you could respond, he would take your hand, smaller and warmer than the rain-slick world around you, and pull you toward the river stream where frogs waited like emerald treasures.

You recall how gently he’d scoop up a tiny green frog, holding it as though it were the most delicate thing in the world. His eyes would widen in wonder, as if seeing magic for the first time, and he’d look back at you with a smile that spoke of shared secrets. “Don’t touch it, we only look...okay?” The sincerity in his voice left no room for argument. He was always protective, even in the small things, a guardian of moments that only the two of you would ever understand.

You remember that Geto Suguru is kind—deeply, quietly kind in a way that echoes through your memories.

One rainy afternoon, you and Suguru were walking along the canal on your way home from school. The cold wind from the early spring nipped at your cheeks, and your fingers felt icy even though Suguru held your hand as tight as he could, his small fingers interlaced with yours. His little face was scrunched up, his nose bright red like a cherry. It made you giggle, but the rain was louder than your laugh.

You liked his laugh. 

Suguru’s eyes were so bright, like the shiny marbles you liked to collect, and they matched the rainy day with their deep, pretty purple. They always crinkled when he laughed or got big and round when he was surprised. But today, they looked different—wide and scared. It made your tummy feel funny, like something was wrong. Before you could ask him, your foot slid out from under you, and suddenly the cold water was all around you. The world turned blurry and loud, and you felt the current tugging at you, pulling you down and making your heart race.

You could see Suguru’s eyes through the splashes and the rush of water. He was screaming something, his little hand reaching for you but not close enough to grab. Everything else was a cold, rushing blur until someone—a big person, a stranger—was there, strong arms lifting you out of the water. You gasped and coughed, shivering and soaked, as Suguru ran to you, tears streaming down his cheeks. He hugged you so tight it felt like he was trying to hold all of you together. His crying was loud and messy, and you thought it must be so hard for someone so little to cry that much.

That was the first day you ever saw him cry. Perhaps, the only day too. 

The kind stranger walked both of you to Suguru’s house. You were cold and still dripping, and Suguru didn’t let go of your hand the whole time, even though he kept sniffling and staring at the ground. When you got to the front door, he was still holding on, you feared he wouldn’t let go. 

Suguru’s mother opened the door, and her eyes—just like Suguru’s, reminding you of violet hydrangeas drizzled with rainwater on a humid summer day, but a little softer—widened when she saw you both. You always liked her; she smelled like flowers and tea, and her hair was dark, long and shiny, like the princesses in your favorite stories. She bent down to look at you, and you noticed her makeup again. It was funny how she wore it—big, purple spots on her arms and a greenish-yellow patch peeking out from under the powder on her face. You always thought it was just a grown-up thing, like how some moms wore bright lipstick or funny dresses. Your mom said it was rude to ask questions, so you didn’t. You just smiled up at her, hoping she would fix everything. You remembered that she was a nurse, nurses always make everything better. 

Suguru stayed quiet as you both stepped inside, still clutching your hand, and you felt safe, at least a little bit, with his mom there, her voice soft and warm, promising that everything would be okay. 

“Suguru, go change and grab a few spare clothes for Y/N, okay?” she said softly, her voice warm and gentle, as she noticed the way you were trembling. “You’re going to catch a cold. Are your parents home?”

You shook your head. Your mom was out with her new boyfriend. He was strange, and you didn’t like the games you played. Games you didn’t really understand until much later.

She paused, her lips pressed together in a thoughtful line. Then, as if brushing away her concern, she smiled—a gentle smile that reminded you of the delicate fox statues at the temple gates, calm and knowing. A smile that was so like Suguru’s. 

You thought Suguru looked so much like his mother. 

A few moments later, Suguru returned, his arms loaded with clothes—a soft frog-print t-shirt and a pair of pajamas. He handed them to you, his cheeks dusted with a faint pink. He didn’t quite meet your gaze, eyes drifting to the ground as if embarrassed, but the way he passed them over made your heart flutter with a warmth you couldn’t quite place. You giggled, both at his shyness and at the oversized shirt he was offering you.

You didn’t give the shirt back, though. Not then. And Suguru never asked.

That night, you don’t remember the details—how you fell asleep or how things had progressed—but you do remember getting sick. A cold that left you bundled up in bed while your mother scolded you for not being more careful. You weren’t allowed to play with Suguru for a while. Not until you were well again.

The first summer of fourth grade rolled around, and you found yourself at the park down the street from your house, sitting on the swings. The air was warm, the sky stretched out in soft pastels as evening approached. The hum of cicadas filled the air, and the distant sound of honking cars blended with the laughter of other children playing nearby. You could feel the breeze against your skin as you swung back and forth, watching the world pass by.

Suguru approached slowly, his head lowered, and you noticed immediately: his hair had grown out, longer now, and it looked darker, shinier. It hung just past his shoulders in silky waves. You liked it. It suited him. He looked like his mother—like the fox statues, elegant and a little mysterious.

But as he came closer, you saw the red mark on his cheek—a faint bruise, but it stood out against his pale skin.

“What’s that, Sugu?” you asked, hopping off the swing and reaching for his face before he could pull away. He flinched slightly, his cheeks flushed, and your hand hovered near the mark.

He didn’t speak right away, and when he finally did, his voice was quiet, almost like he was unsure whether he should even share. “My dad came home... Ma says I should play outside until he leaves. I don’t like him very much.”

You felt a knot tighten in your chest. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard him talk about his father this way, but hearing it again still made something twist inside you. Almost like a tummy ache. You wanted to say something. To ask something. 

Instead, you offered him your hand, tugging him gently toward the sandbox where you’d set up your toys. It felt like the right thing to do. To share this quiet moment, away from the things you couldn’t understand, after all, you weren’t an adult. This seemed like an adult thing. 

“That’s okay,” you said softly, settling down in the sand “I don’t like my mom’s boyfriend either. We play weird games... but sometimes he buys me a new toy or takes me to McDonald’s if I win.”

Suguru’s eyes widened slightly. There was something in the way he looked at you, something that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, he understood more than you realized. “I wonder if boys get weird when they grow up,” you added, your voice a little quieter now..”

Suguru didn’t take long to reply. He blurted it out, his words tumbling over each other in a rush. “I won’t turn out weird!” His face went bright red as he stood up, almost defensively. “I won’t! I’ll take care of you, and we’ll get married!”

Your laugh bubbled up before you could stop it. It wasn’t a mean laugh—just a joyful one that caught you by surprise. You laughed so hard you almost thought you might fall over. 

“We’re getting married?” you asked, trying to catch your breath through your giggles. “Okay, Sugu. When we get older, we’ll get married.”

For the rest of the afternoon, you both let your imaginations run wild. You talked about what your future would look like—what it would be like when you were married. A beautiful, traditional house, like the ones in downtown Kyoto, with a sprawling garden and a giant Sakura tree where you’d have picnics in the spring, drinking tea together. You pictured a big, airy bedroom with futons laid out beneath the window so you could wake up to the soft light of the morning sun.

“And I’ll get you a ring,” Suguru said, his voice brimming with excitement. “It’ll be big and shiny, with lots of jewels. You’ll see.”

You shook your head with a smile. “I want a gem like your eyes,” you said as you carefully packed sand into your bucket, forming the base of your sandcastle. “A violet one, so when I look at it, I’ll always think of you.”

Suguru’s face softened. He looked away, a shy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Okay,” he muttered, almost too quietly.

The two of you played for hours as the sun began to set behind the trees. The orange light stretched across the sky, casting long shadows on the ground. Suguru lingered a little longer than usual, clearly reluctant to leave, but eventually, he stood up, a small sigh escaping his lips. He gave you a brief, almost shy hug before pulling away, offering you that familiar, soft smile. 

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” he promised, his voice quieter than usual.

When school started, Suguru came to you one morning, to walk with you to school and asked, his voice tentatively, “Is it okay if I take a different path sometimes?” There was something in his eyes that made you pause. He didn’t say much, but you knew there was more to the question. “I see things,” he added softly, almost as though he was unsure if he should even speak it aloud.

You didn’t see them—but you nodded, instinctively reaching out to hold his hand as you walked beside him, past places and shadows he pointed out. There were things there you didn’t understand, creatures in the corners of your vision, too fleeting to hold onto. But Suguru saw them clearly. His eyes would follow the shadows, his gaze sharp and focused, and you'd squeeze his hand, hoping to be part of his world, even if you couldn't see what he could.

"Are they like... yokai?" you asked one afternoon as you both sat on the playground during lunch. The warm air wrapped around you, the sound of distant voices fading in the background.

Suguru paused, a little surprised. “Maybe? Can you not see them?” he asked, his voice filled with wonder, as if it baffled him that you couldn’t. 

“My parents can’t see them either,” he added with a sheepish laugh. “My dad says I’m going crazy, so I guess I must be,” he murmured, his words trailing off as if he truly wondered if he was losing his mind.

You didn’t hesitate. You blurted it out without thinking, the words tumbling over each other in your haste to reassure him. “No! I don’t think you’re crazy! Maybe you have super cool powers! Maybe you can be the one to protect the weak!” You giggled, swinging yourself higher on the monkey bars.

Suguru’s eyes widened in surprise, and before you could swing too far, he quickly stepped forward, catching you just in time to keep you from falling flat on your face. “Careful!” he muttered bashfully, his hands steadying you as his cheeks flushed pink. 

“Protecting the weak, huh?” he said to himself, half in awe, half amused. He pulled out his handkerchief, wiping the sand from your calloused hands with a soft tenderness. “I think I can do that,” he said with a smile, that gentle, endearing smile of his that made your heart skip a beat.

Suguru became your first crush, though you hadn’t the words for it at the time. It was a soft, quiet thing, like a secret blooming in you, one you weren’t yet ready to name.

By the time middle school came around, it wasn’t just you. Suguru had become the object of affection for nearly every girl in your class. It was easy to see why. He was handsome, effortlessly so. His dark hair, now tied into a messy bun, framed his face in soft waves that made him look older, more mature. He was athletic—president of the martial arts club—and the classroom representative, always steady, always reliable. 

Girls would swoon whenever he walked by, their hearts practically in their eyes. You’d seen it all unfold countless times: a bashful girl, clutching a love letter, standing beneath the cherry blossom trees, her face flushed as she handed it to Suguru with trembling hands. And Suguru—sweet, gentle Suguru—would always take the letter, smile shyly, rub the back of his neck, and apologize. 

“I’m sorry,” he would say, his voice quiet, his eyes soft but firm. “I can’t return those feelings.” 

And yet, even after he rejected them, the girls would smile, too—somewhat bittersweetly, but they would smile. Because they understood, in their own way, what made Suguru special. It was the kindness in his rejection, the way he always apologized, the way his heart seemed so gentle, so full of care. 

But while the other girls admired him from afar, you became the unspoken resolution to their quiet heartbreaks. It wasn’t long before everyone in your class noticed the way you and Suguru always walked home together, how you always arrived at school side by side, or how you waited by the gates after his martial arts club practices. 

It wasn’t long before the jealousy started to manifest.

At first, it was small—innocent, even—little things that were easy to dismiss. You’d find your bento box missing, or your textbooks mysteriously soaked or torn. Harmless pranks, the girls in your class would say when you complained, their voices light, too light. They never did it in front of Suguru. 

But the notes? Those were different. The messages scribbled hastily, then slipped into the folds of your books or tucked into your desk when no one was looking. They were direct, a threat veiled in a veneer of sweetness: “Stay away from him, or else.” And though you never showed Suguru the notes, you felt them—each one like a small, sharp stone lodged in your chest.

Suguru noticed, though. He always did, didn’t he? It wasn’t uncommon for him to ask about the scuffs on your textbooks or the faint marks on your arms, or why you always seemed so distracted when he talked. One day, after another prank—this time a textbook torn in half—you stood in the local bookstore’s quiet aisle, searching for a replacement. Suguru, ever observant, was beside you.

“What happened to your books?” he asked, his voice quiet, but his gaze unwavering. “Didn’t you just get that one last week?”

You hesitated, unsure how to explain. His expression softened, but you could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced by your usual excuses. “A friend in my class needed it,” you murmured, a soft lie spilling from your lips. “Her family is really poor��� so I figured, why not?”

Suguru paused for a moment, his lips curving slightly as he nodded. “That’s nice of you,” he said simply, his words brief, but thoughtful. You weren’t sure if he knew you were lying—or if he suspected—but you didn’t correct him. His words were always warm, gentle, as though he never doubted you, and that was enough.

You never confessed to him. Not once throughout middle school. You kept it buried—your feelings, your heartache, the quiet ache that pulled at your chest when you watched him walk away from the other girls, always with that same shy smile. You kept it hidden, even as it grew stronger, deeper. Even as Suguru unknowingly became the center of your world.

High school was just around the corner, and it seemed like everything was changing. One late summer evening, as the air began to cool and cicadas buzzed in the distance, you and Suguru sat on the porch of your house, the smell of ripe watermelon lingering in the warm night. The gentle weight of the fruit in your hands was a comfort, but there was an undercurrent of unease—of things left unsaid.

“So, you’re really going to that religious school?” you mumbled between bites of sweet watermelon, your eyes flicking to the sky as if avoiding his gaze. The question hung in the air, heavier than it should have been.

Suguru leaned back against the porch railing, his eyes gazing out at the street. He nodded, though there was something uncertain in his posture. “Yeah. It’s where my mom wants me to go. She thinks it’s best.”

You frowned slightly, pausing to wipe the juice from your chin. “But... you aren’t really religious,” you pointed out quietly. It wasn’t an accusation—it was more of a statement, one you’d thought about a lot. Suguru had always seemed so different from the others, always more grounded, more practical. Religion wasn’t really his thing, and you knew it. You weren’t sure if it was his mom’s wish, or something else that pulled him in that direction.

Suguru gave a small laugh, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He looked at you, then, his gaze soft but distant. “I’m not,” he admitted, “but sometimes, I think... maybe I should be. Maybe I need something to believe in, you know?”

You didn’t answer right away. You just took another bite of watermelon, chewing slowly, as if trying to process the sudden shift in his tone. He was changing, wasn’t he? You could feel it—the same way you felt that distance growing between you both. It wasn’t something either of you had asked for, but it was there.

And for a moment, as you sat there together, in that soft quiet of the evening, you wished you could say it—everything. The way you felt about him, the way your heart would skip a beat every time he smiled, the way your chest ached at the thought of him slipping away into a life that might not include you. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Not yet.

Tears welled up and fell silently as you chewed on your watermelon, the juices almost too sweet, too sharp against the lump in your throat. Suguru noticed, his confident demeanor cracking as he stammered, those fox like violet eyes softening with concern.

“Hey, hey, I’ll still come to visit. I won’t be far… you’re still my best friend.” That’s all you were to him. Just friends. The words should have comforted you, but they only twisted deeper into the ache in your chest. You wished you had done things differently that night. Wished you hadn’t let the fear win. 

Before you could stop yourself, the bowl of watermelon slipped from your grasp, clattering to the floor as you pushed against his broad chest, the frustration bubbling up like a storm. You bit your lip, bowing your head to avoid the confused look in his eyes. The space between you grew colder, wider.

“You idiot,” you mumbled, the words meant for yourself but landing heavily between you. His expression shifted, hurt flashing across his face, but he didn’t say anything. That night ended in silence, the air thick with unspoken words. When he left, there was no goodnight text, no familiar ping of a morning message. By the next day, he was gone.

Suguru went off to some mysterious religious school, one so obscure that even searching for it yielded nothing but blank pages. You stayed behind, navigating your typical Japanese high school, blending into the background. You weren’t at the top of your class, not even close. Just ordinary.

The girls from middle school remembered you, and they hadn’t forgotten how to sneer. Their mocking smiles followed you down hallways, whispers cutting sharper than any blade. You wished, sometimes, that you’d been sent away too, anywhere but there. But it was fine. You learned to like the quiet, your solitary lunches at the top of the school building.

When the school year ended and summer painted the skies in gold and blue, Suguru came home. You saw him one day, taller and somehow changed, walking with another boy. This one was just as tall, leaner, with stark white hair that stood out like a beacon. His eyes were bright and blue, the kind that drew you in, reminiscent of the ocean under the midday sun. His name was Satoru.

You and Suguru never spoke about the night he left. The silence between you was now familiar, like an old song whose lyrics you’d forgotten. 

Suguru introduced you to Gojo Satoru, his friend from the religious school. Satoru didn’t understand the meaning of personal space, it seemed. You watched as Suguru’s eye twitched when Satoru casually slung an arm around your shoulders, a playful smirk hidden behind his glasses.

“Wow! Suguru never told me he had a pretty friend like you waiting at home for him,” Satoru teased, his voice light and teasing. Your cheeks flushed crimson at the unexpected compliment, your heart stuttering in your chest.

“What happened to going home, Satoru? I thought you wanted to train or something,” Suguru said, his tone edged with something you couldn’t quite place, his eyes narrowing at the arm draped over you.

“I wanted to see what a commoner’s life is like,” Satoru said with a casual shrug, his smile unfaltering.

Suguru’s eyes met yours for a brief, fleeting second, filled with something that made your chest tighten. But whatever it was, it vanished as quickly as it came, swept away by the playful banter and the summer breeze.

Summer days passed slowly, drenched in the heat of the sun and the chatter of cicadas. Satoru quickly became a regular part of your small circle, his presence impossible to ignore. He was loud, boisterous, with an infectious energy that made the quiet afternoons seem brighter and heavier all at once. And Suguru—he stayed close, always hovering just at the edge of it all, watching with those deep violet eyes that you couldn’t read.

There were moments when it felt almost normal, like nothing had changed between you and Suguru. The three of you would sit by the riverbank, Satoru’s laughter ringing out as he tried to skip stones and failed spectacularly, the smooth rocks plopping into the water with each throw. Suguru would smirk, his usual calm disrupted by the smallest hint of a smile. But then, there were moments when the silence would settle again, a reminder of everything unsaid. You’d catch Suguru’s gaze, his eyes searching yours for a heartbeat before he’d look away.

One afternoon, as the sun began to dip behind the hills and the sky turned a soft, dusky purple, Satoru sprawled out on the grass, hands behind his head. “You know, it’s strange,” he said, his voice light but his eyes serious as he stared up at the sky. “Coming here, seeing how different it is from how I was raised, how the school is- this is peaceful.”

Suguru didn’t respond, just watched the sun dipping lower, shadows stretching long over the ground. You glanced between them, feeling the familiar tug of curiosity. You wanted to ask what their lives were like, what they did in that school that seemed so far removed from anything you knew. But before you could speak, Suguru broke the silence.

“Different is good sometimes,” he said quietly, almost to himself. His expression was unreadable, and something in his voice made your heart twist.

Satoru turned to you then, a mischievous glint back in his eyes. “Hey, we should do something fun before the summer ends. What do people around here do, anyway? Festivals? Fireworks? Don’t tell me all you do is sit by the river.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Suguru beat you to it. “There’s a festival next weekend,” he said, his gaze finally meeting yours. “You should come.”

It felt like an invitation wrapped in layers of meaning, and for a moment, the air between you felt fragile, something you didn’t want to break. Satoru’s grin widened, and he clapped his hands together. “Perfect! I love festival snacks.”

The week leading up to the festival passed with a strange, buzzing anticipation. You spent your days replaying that moment by the river, wondering what it meant, hoping for something you couldn’t quite name.

When the night of the festival arrived, the streets were a whirl of lantern light and laughter, the scent of grilled food mixing with the sweetness of candy. You wore your favorite yukata, its delicate patterns of blue and white mirroring the summer sky. The moment you spotted Suguru and Satoru waiting for you near the entrance, your heart did a little flip. Suguru looked at you for a beat longer than usual, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

You however thought Suguru always looked more handsome in traditional wear. You'd never tell him that thought.

“You look nice,” he said, voice low enough that only you could hear. Satoru, never one to miss a moment, whistled dramatically. “I think you look hot,” he teased, winking at you.

Suguru shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. The three of you walked through the festival together, surrounded by the glow of lanterns and the hum of excited voices. You felt the brush of Suguru’s sleeve against yours, and each accidental touch sent a thrill up your spine.

As the night went on, you found yourselves near the edge of the festival grounds, where the noise softened into a quieter backdrop. Suguru turned to you, eyes thoughtful. “I never told you, did I?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why I left that night.”

Your breath caught, the world around you fading as you looked up at him. The question, the hurt, all of it surfaced in that instant. But before he could say more, a firework burst in the sky above, scattering colors across the night, and Satoru’s voice called out, breaking the spell.

“Hey! You two, you’re missing the show!” 

Suguru’s expression shifted, the moment slipping away like sand through your fingers. But his eyes lingered on yours, as if to say tonight wasn’t the night.

You never did get to hear what he wanted to say. But you always remembered the way the fireworks lit up his eyes, turning them into pools of shimmering violet and gold. Suguru was beautiful in a way that seemed almost unreal.

After that summer, you saw less and less of Suguru and Satoru. Every time you reached out, you were met with the same response: “Busy,” or, “I have a lot of work.” You tried not to dwell on it, though the ache of distance settled deep in your chest.

One evening, as you studied for an upcoming exam, the summer heat pressed against your skin like a suffocating blanket. The windows were wide open, the occasional breeze doing little to ease the stifling air. The sky outside was a blanket of deep indigo, scattered with stars that twinkled above the quiet street.

Then, a cry cut through the silence from next door. It wasn’t the first time; Suguru’s parents had always been a source of hushed whispers and dark looks. You had grown to understand that his father’s anger was more than just a temper—it was violence. The beatings, first directed at his mother, had eventually reached Suguru when she could no longer shield him. You wished you had known when you were children, before he disappeared to that unreachable school. Maybe you could have done something. Maybe you could have held on to him just a little tighter. But, you reminded yourself that you were both just children, juggling things that a child shouldn't be going through.

A sudden creak jolted you from your thoughts. The front door. You froze, straining to hear past the thundering of your heartbeat. Your mother wasn’t supposed to be home, and the last boyfriend she brought around—the one who had a temper of his own—had vanished weeks ago, leaving you with a sense of uneasy relief.

“Mom?” you called out, voice shaky as you peered into the dark hallway. Silence.

You took tentative steps down the stairs, flicking on the light. There, standing in the dim glow, was Suguru. His face was pale, hair disheveled, and on his clothes—was that blood?

“Suguru?” His name came out as a whisper, tinged with fear and disbelief. Your eyes darted over him, searching for injuries or some sign that could explain the scene before you. But he didn’t move. He only looked at you, a gentle smile cracking the grim line of his mouth as he stepped forward and opened his arms.

“I can finally say it, I love you,” he said, the words hanging in the air like a confession and a plea. The room seemed to close in around you as he pulled you into an embrace. The scent of smoke and blood invaded your senses, sharp and suffocating. Something wet dripped onto your head, and you realized his whole body was trembling.

“I love you,” he repeated, voice soft, almost fragile. “You looked so beautiful that day... in your yukata... you’ve always looked beautiful.” His words tumbled out in a quiet ramble, barely holding together. “I love you so much it hurts... it hurts so much to know that...”

You tilted your head up, eyes wide with questions you didn’t know how to ask, and before you could speak, his lips met yours. The kiss was gentle, desperate, and tasted of salt from tears and the metallic tang of blood. Your body froze, caught between the shock of the moment and the familiar warmth of his touch. 

The world outside was silent, but in that moment, everything screamed. 

The kiss left you breathless, and for a fleeting moment, you felt like a child again, back in the days when Suguru was just your best friend with laughter that lit up your world. But the metallic taste and the tremor in his body pulled you back to the present, where the Suguru in front of you was someone different—someone haunted.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. There was a depth of pain there that you couldn’t comprehend, an abyss of sorrow that twisted his beautiful features into something almost unrecognizable.

“Why—” you started, but the question choked in your throat as his hand brushed your cheek, fingers trembling against your skin. The warmth in his touch sent a shiver down your spine, and before you could react, he pressed his forehead against yours, eyes squeezing shut.

“You don’t understand, do you?” he said, a tear rolling down his face, mingling with the blood that stained him. “I can’t let them take you away from me. I can’t let this world twist what little good we have left.”

Confusion morphed into a sudden, chilling realization, and your breath caught in your chest. “Suguru, what are you—”

“I love you too much, the higher ups will kill you after what I did. They'll find you, use you as punishment” he interrupted, voice breaking as if the words themselves were ripping him apart. His arms wrapped around you tightly, too tightly, and panic surged in your veins as his embrace turned suffocating.

“Suguru, wait—” you gasped, struggling against him, but he held you as if you were the only thing anchoring him to this world. The wetness against your head spread, the metallic scent growing stronger as you fought to breathe. His strength was overwhelming, something you had never felt from him before.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, almost reverent. The room spun, a whirl of dark shadows and star-speckled sky visible from the window behind him. Pain flared through you, sharp and sudden, and your vision blurred with tears.

The realization was slow, creeping in like ice. His hand, once gentle, now pressed against your side where warmth spread in a crimson bloom. Your strength faltered, and Suguru’s face swam in your vision, eyes glistening as he cradled you. His lips moved, speaking words that sounded far away now.

“It’ll be over soon,” he promised, as if trying to convince himself more than you. His voice was soft, desperate. “We’ll be together one day... no one will take you from me.”

Your limbs grew heavy, your body slumping against his. The pain dulled, replaced by a chilling numbness that seeped into your bones. Suguru’s face hovered above yours, tears streaking his bloodied cheeks as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

The room dimmed, the noise of the world fading into the distance. Suguru’s whispered, broken words were the last thing you heard, “I love you. I’ll keep you safe now.”

Darkness folded over you like a shroud, and the last image in your mind was of the boy you had known, standing in the light of a summer day with violet eyes full of wonder. Suguru, your friend, your everything, who now held you in an embrace.

The warmth of Suguru’s arms faded, replaced by a numbing cold that seeped into your bones. When you slipped away, Suguru was still holding you, his body shaking with quiet sobs as the reality of what he’d done settled over him like a suffocating blanket.

Minutes felt like hours as he knelt there, your lifeless form cradled in his arms. The weight of his actions bore down on him, a crushing force that stole the breath from his lungs. The room was silent now, the metallic tang of blood heavy in the air. His violet eyes, wide and unfocused, glistened with tears that refused to stop falling.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the empty room, the words a broken mantra. “I’m so sorry.”

The night stretched on, the stars above unblinking witnesses to the scene below. Suguru’s mind spun with memories—your laughter by the riverbank, the way your eyes lit up when he said something that made you smile, the warmth of your presence that had anchored him through so many storms. And now, that warmth was gone, snuffed out by his own trembling hands.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, the world outside moving on without him. 

Suguru’s hands clenched, nails biting into his palms until they drew blood. He lifted his gaze, eyes red and swollen, and looked at you one more time. The peaceful expression on your face was almost unbearable; it made it seem as if you were merely sleeping, ready to wake at any moment. But you wouldn’t. And that truth cracked something deep inside him.

He stood slowly, legs trembling under the weight of exhaustion and grief. The blood on his clothes had dried, stiff and crusted, but the scent still clung to him, sharp and unforgiving. Suguru took a shaky breath and glanced at the front door, the place that once symbolized safety and warmth now nothing more than a reminder of what he had lost.

As he stepped into the night, your lifeless form cradled in his arms, the cool air bit at his skin, carrying with it the distant hum of cicadas and the faint rustle of leaves. Behind him, two little girls followed, their small steps quiet and cautious. Their eyes, wide with a mix of fear and trust, never wavered from Suguru’s figure as they walked together into the night. There was much to do. 

In a few years, Suguru had built that traditional house you both dreamed of as children. The structure stood proudly, nestled in the serene embrace of the countryside, with a wide veranda and sliding paper doors that creaked softly in the breeze. In the garden, the large sakura tree bloomed each spring, its petals drifting like whispers over the spot where your ashes were laid to rest.

He sat in the bedroom, the one where his futon lay by the large window so the first rays of morning light could touch his face, waking him gently—just as you had always imagined. The light bathed the room in a warm glow, but it could not reach the shadow that lingered in his heart. He was fulfilling the dream he had stolen from you, keeping it alive with each passing day.

Suguru’s gaze shifted to the Sakura tree, its blossoms swaying in the morning air. He closed his eyes, feeling the ache of longing bloom anew in his chest. He had much left to do, so many things to set right before he could allow himself to rest. Before he could find his way to you, wherever you might be waiting.

In the quiet moments, when the world was still and only the rustle of petals filled the silence, he spoke to you. Promises, confessions, hopes whispered into the air with the wish that somehow, you could hear him.

One day, he would join you beneath the shade of that Sakura tree, where time and separation could no longer reach. Suguru held onto the hope that you both could be together once again.

[anthonys237thfreckle]

‘Promise’ - Javier ‘Javi’ x Kate Carter & F! reader (angst!)

someone asked for a part two and I realized how good of an idea that was lmao. I need indirect ways to incorporate my past experiences into my fics anyway.

part one

prompt: you made a promise to distance yourself from Javi and Kate

TW: mentions of smoking, some detailed mention of self harm, suicidal thoughts, mentions of nausea, disordered eating, breakdowns, smoking, angst :(

Do NOT proceed if the triggers mentioned above upset you greatly. You have been warned.

I made a promise

To distance myself

Once Tyler dropped you off to the train station, you smiled and waved until you couldn’t see his truck anymore. You wanted to hang onto any last string of familiarity for as long as you could.

Especially since your life would change completely - for better or worse.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to calm down your trembling body.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

5 things you see - the train station, the crumbling yellow bricks, the jolly red-white-blue american flag, your luggage, and the people. Lots of people.

4 things you hear - the people, obviously, the cicadas crying, the heavy bell ringing inside, the honking of cars for you to get out of their way.

3 things you smell - the heat - somehow, the smell of smoke from cars, and the thick air.

2 things you feel - terrified. hurt.

1 thing you taste - bitterness.

Shaking your head, you take another deep breath. Eyes dead set on the mission in front of you, you marched into the train station, bought a ticket to Oklahoma City, and settled down inside.

But now was the hardest part; waiting. What made it harder was you didn’t want to think about anything that happened yesterday. So, putting your headphones on, you made a playlist with none of the songs that reminded you of Javi or any of the ones he recommended to you. Essentially, you just listened to 3 songs in total, over and over again, but the knowledge you knew what was coming next was comforting, something you couldn’t apply to your current situation.

Took a flight, through aurora skies

Honestly, I didn't think about

How we didn't say goodbye

Just see you very soon

You woke up when the train jolted to a stop - you had fallen asleep, waking up to hear the opening notes of some song you were listening to earlier. Looking out the window, you reached Oklahoma City. With a sigh of relief and trepidation, you got your bags and headed out of the station, hailed a taxi to the airport. Booking a last minute flight back home to LA, you made your way to the gate. Setting your bag down, you sat in a char near the huge windows. Deciding it wasn’t close enough, you sat on the little raised platform attached to the window and leaned your head against it like you saw so many children do.

The boarding call was announced, and everyone sat up groggily. It all went by pretty quickly. Standing in line, getting your boarding pass stamped and your passport checked, finding you seat, putting your bag away and sitting down. Taxi and take off was a blur; luckily you got a window seat, and stared out at the pink clouds, tinted by the setting sun, a peach tone.

Peachy, just like your favourite pie.

You groaned, covering your eyes and rubbing them as your mind started to think about Oklahoma. About Javi, and the last time he saw you. And the last thing he said to you. It wasn’t even a proper goodbye, but you couldn’t blame him because he didn’t know it was goodbye.

And honestly, neither did you.

But you made yourself a promise - to distance yourself.

Those last words of his echoed in your mind.

“I- Okay, alright. Take care, (Y/N)”

It hurts to be something

It's worse to be nothing with you

You half expected a text from Javi - it had been around 24 hours since you last saw him. Since you told him you had a ‘family emergency’ to take care of. Who wouldn’t expect a little ‘you doing okay?’ or ‘safe travels’ when someone saw you break down in the middle of a field, distressed as hell? Sure, you and Javi weren’t dating, sure you both drifted apart ever since Kate got closer with him instead, but were you two not even friends anymore?

Did you mean nothing to him?

This wasn’t the first time he ghosted you - after the EF5 tornado, he didn’t say a word to you. But it was understandable why - everyone was hurting, and maybe he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you. In Oklahoma, the only times he’d talk to you is when you started a conversation, otherwise you could sit silently and he’d happily talk with Kate, leaving you be. It was never him starting anything.

And Kate. Did she figure out you liked Javi? Is that why she didn’t text you? Did she feel guilty? Part of you wanted her to feel guilty, but the other part of you didn’t want to be pitied. Part of you wanted to go back, but this - this was best for you right now. Nobody could tell you otherwise.

Instead, you got a text from Tyler.

‘hey there cowgirl - how you getting along?’

You chuckled - ‘cowgirl’ was probably the worst way to describe yourself. Instead, you typed down a response, your heart a little less heavy.

‘hey, Tyler. thanks for asking. means a lot’

He was typing, the three dots appearing on screen

‘of course. lemme know if you need anything at all okay? stay safe out there’

You sent him an affirmative text, thankful to actually have a friend who cared enough to check in on you, helping you out without questioning anything, having only known you for a week.

So I didn't call you

For sixteen long days

You found comfort in some form of familiarity in your life; back home in LA, everything looked duller, more still. Like the whole world knew about your heartbreak and was mourning, or mocking you. You tried to plunge into work, distracting yourself but sometimes, you’d just stare at your work, screen or paper, and just zone out. Your was brain still trying to process everything, and you were losing a lot over it - sleep, peace, overall joy, your will to wake up, and more.

It felt like after the EF5 tornado but worse because you knew somewhere in Oklahoma, Kate was with Javi, both of them happier than ever. It felt worse because you could never have him anymore. He was gone. And someone got to see him every day, sometimes wake up next to him, sometimes stay up all night with him. You felt like you were gonna be sick.

For a fortnight, all you could eat was cheese, bread, and grapes. It was the only thing you could keep down.

It was so hard not to text Javi. After you had just left, it’s like you were isolated for 5 years, given a taste of him, then forcing yourself to stay away. It was something you chose to do, not something you were forced to live with.

But you won’t call him. No matter how long the days felt they were dragging by.

And I should get a cigarette

For so much restraint

Walking by a drugstore to entertain yourself, you entered the establishment with an electronic ding notifying your presence. Strolling through the ailes, you picked up Sourhead Extremes (so in case you wanted to call Javi, you’d have to go through a gustatory agony first) and some nail polish, just to look pretty. Walking to the cashier, you mindlessly threw in a pack of cigarettes onto the counter, before putting them back in a jerky motion.

“What the hell…” you murmured to yourself, ashamed of what you were about to do. Buy cigarettes - to smoke.

Walking out of the store briskly, you speed-walked home; chiding yourself for almost ‘rewarding’ your no contact mission by smoking, you realized how truly pathetic you were.

“God, what is wrong with me…” you muttered, keeping your head down, watching the wet streets reflect the light of the sun and your dark sorrow.

No matter how long I resist temptation

I will always lose,

Eventually you did buy the cigarettes. You went home, lounging in your bed, a pretty china plate acting like an ashtray for you. Legs up in the air, swinging occasionally, eyes half lidded from the light high, you felt the chalky smoke fill your lungs, watching it come out in little clouds of grey air.

You felt in control for the first time since leaving Oklahoma - the cigarette sitting pretty between your red tinted fingers and lips. You smiled softly, satisfied by finally scoring a small win. You didn’t tell Tyler that you smoked. He’d say it’s a horrible habit you should give up.

Obviously it was more of a lose - giving into an impulse, and now you were at risk of falling deeper into addiction. You weren’t in control, you never really were.

But why would you make yourself feel worse when you were on the literal brink of crumbling?

Although, you didn’t get addicted. After the high wore off, you felt disgusted, throwing out the pack of almost full cigarettes. You wouldn’t tell Tyler, of course.

It hurts to be something

It’s worse to be nothing with you

Two weeks went by, and though you pretended everything was okay, it really wasn’t. You didn’t know if you missed Javi or not, but you really didn’t want to.

You don’t know if you want to see the face you loved so much, the face that lights up when he sees Kate, the face that Kate holds, kisses, caresses.. the face that she admires alongside you.

You wanted to get over him, you really did, but you cared so much about him. You didn’t want to stop caring about him, when loving him felt so… lovely.

But it hurt so much.

You barely got any sleep this past fortnight. Having a reverie about the man who daydreamed about another woman. The things you wished he did to you, he did to Kate. He was hers. So assured, so confident. No doubt in that.

For a fortnight, there you were, stripped of any text backs from him.

You were starting to think you just wanted his attention, which you dont know if you wanted anymore, knowing his attention belonged to Kate. Why would you care so much about him texting you?

But then again, weren’t you two friends?

I’ve done the math

There’s no solution

We’ll never last

Why can’t I let go of this?

Right now, you, broken, needed comfort. May it be fake hope again. Nobody was there to stop you anyway, so in your free time, you started to think of the ways Kate and Javi would have problems with each other.

‘She’s too arrogant sometimes, and he’s really down to earth’

‘She can’t communicate her feelings!’

‘Kate’s one to settle, Javi isn’t’

Of course, you knew it was wrong. Of course it was a bitchy thing to think. But who were you to care right now?

You were hurt, and you needed to feel better to even try and start to get a grip on reality. you didn’t want to rip of the band aid yet.

Not yet.

Even worse, your mind started thinking of ways you and Javi could get together; Kate could leave him in the dark again, she could get into a fight with him…

But nothing made sense - she wouldn’t leave when she looked at him that way… and any fights would be cleared quickly with Javi’s forgiving nature.

He would do anything for her.

All in all, you realized how shitty you were being, and texted Tyler, saying you couldn’t hide from Javi - couldn’t hide from the pain that haunted you. The bright lights of LA looked dull. The sun felt like a false light.

Your world was falling apart, how could the sun be shining when your world was falling apart?

‘Just walk around. Wear something that makes you feel good. Grab some good lunch downtown. Spoil yourself. Act like a damn tourist, I don’t care. Just do anything that reminds you that there’s more to life than Javi’ he wrote.

So I broke my promise

I called you last night

I shouldn’t have, I wouldn’t have

If it weren’t for the sight of a boy who

Looked just like you standing out on Melrose Avenue…

It hurts to be something

It’s worse to be nothing, with you.

Three days later, you sat on the roof of a building. The sun was setting, you looked at the streets below. People were walking - their dogs, their toddlers, and whatnot.

You were so disappointed with yourself. Closing your eyes, you thought back to everything that happened yesterday.

Following Tyler’s advice, you woke up ready to face the day.

Waking up bright and early, you went for a run, saw some pretty things on the way. You found it insane how easy it was to overlook the small things in life.

Coming home, you made breakfast; oatmeal with bananas, almond butter and chocolate chips. You savoured every bite with a smile.

You hopped into the shower, using your favourite body wash. Putting on an outfit, doing your hair and makeup, slipping on your shoes, you left the house, ready to explore the city…

All was going well until sunset.

—

You were walking along the streets of LA, acting like you’d never seen anything like it before. A coffee in hand, you walked confidently down the path, turning a corner to browse a bookstore on Melrose Avenue, when someone caught your eye.

A boy, waiting for the light signal to turn green, who looked exactly like Javi.

You froze.

Suddenly, you didn’t want coffee any more. You didn’t want anything right now but to go home.

—

You rushed home, trying so hard to control your breathing, then stumbling desperately to your room. As soon as your face crashed against the pillows, the soft, gentle fabric a perfect medium to absorb the tears now flowing down your face. You sobbed, curled into a still-bedazzled ball on your bed, hugging yourself, contracting into a fibonacci.

Reaching for your purse, you pulled out your phone, scrolling through your contacts. Through the wet and blurry lens of your tears, you scrolled into the alphabet until you reached the ‘J’ section. The first name was Javi.

Pressing on his name, then the ‘call’ button, you held it to your ear, taking shuddering breaths as you tried calming yourself down. The your phone cooed like a pigeon, signalling his phone, somewhere in Oklahoma, was ringing.

You were clean. Clean for a little over 2 weeks. Clean from his voice ringing in your ears, new words exchanged and whatnot.

But as you held your phone in your hand, crying, watching it reach Javi’s phone, waiting for him to answer, it all felt like a relapse.

Like the feeling of the cool blade on your skin, slicing through, leaving an angry red river in its wake.

The sick, high feeling you get from it - the ecstasy, watching you destroy yourself, finding beauty in the rubble.

Some part of you, the logical part of you was screaming to press the red button. To leave Javi alone. It wasn’t fair for you to reach out first, right? Why would you make a fool out of yourself by calling him? You’re not that desperate for him, are you?

But the hurt, emotional, desperate part of you didn’t, daring him to answer. Just to remind him of your existence. Just this once.

Still fighting the internal battle, you delved deeper into why he didn’t call you yet.

Did Kate tell him everything? Did she finally find out? Did she realize at all about how hurt you were?

The anger only just started to hit you, claiming your brain as a new population to be corrupted, a new host for the parasite, a new fruit to rot.

You were mad. You didn’t know at who. But you decided you were mad at Kate. For dating him. You knew it was wrong to be mad, because you had no claim over Javi, but you were too deep into your anger to actually think of a better way to cope. Suddenly, you were so mad at Kate. So, so mad. Part of you wanted to tear your house down, scream like a mad woman, but you didn’t. Your dwindling self control kept you in check.

Then came the sadness. You were so mad at Kate, but she was so happy right now. She didn’t care or know how your felt right now. how hurt you felt right now. She had Javi. Her Javi. And they were both happy - oh so happy, oh so blissfully unaware of how you felt right now.

They were happy - they were perfectly fine without you. Because they didn’t need you as a friend, not like they did in college - maybe they didn’t back then either, because they had each other. That’s all they needed. Each other was all they needed.

You were so deep into the crevices of your mind, drowning in both pain and relief, you almost didn’t hear your name drenched in Javi’s voice coming from the speaker.

‘[name]?’

—

follow + stay tuned for part three!!

[doki-doki-imagines]

Kisses

tw: some suggestive, nsfw (Johnny Cage one)

author note: another idea I needed to write out. Hope you'll enjoy reading those!

If there is something Raiden can’t stand is seeing you cry; tears and snot don’t suit you. Raiden’s warm hands cup your face, calloused hands against your soft cheeks, thumbs brushing the remaining tears  “Come with me” he whispers, chocolate brown eyes looking at you with such passion they almost make you forget all your problems.

He takes you to the field where he spends most of his day “The stars here are brighter than anywhere else” he tells you, voice strong and reassuring before sitting on the ground next to you.

Words escape your mouth like a waterfall, no filter, brain shut, just the need to share, something you are not used to do.

Raiden listens to you, eyes never leaving your face, while you look at the starry sky, your eyes always elsewhere, too worried you’d lose the thread of the discourse if your eyes happened to meet.

“If I know something is that everything other than death has a solution.“ His forefinger push behind your ear a strand of your hair, the action makes you jerk, eyes widening and finally, you look at him.

There isn’t much light, but the moon frames his face perfectly. You can see a reddish hue coloring his cheeks, and a smile full of hope that makes your heart thump with joy “I’m sorry I can’t offer you a better answer, but-“ his hands grip your arms, strong, but without hurting, his strength perfectly stable “Never let yourself down, life will get better believe me.” You bite your tongue “It never does Raiden” you’d like to reply, but his words carry so much hope that you can only nod at him.

He lifts himself up from the ground and extends his hand out to help you.

“Thanks” You say after minutes of silence, your steps on the ground the only sound, not even cicadas try to interrupt.

“For the hand? It really is no-“

“For the company, for your words.” You look at him, now standing in front of your room. You kiss his cheek and wish him goodnight, a shy smile appears on his face as he waves at you.

The newfound warmness spreading from your heart is a new problem you’ll have to learn how to deal with in the next few months, for now, you can only rest and wait for a new day to start.

“You finally woke up, you idiot.” Tomas could recognize that voice between millions of others, so sweet and so caring even if they just called him an idiot.

Grey eyes scan the room, he’s in the infirmary bed, at Madame Bo restaurant. He and Kuai Liang got ambushed not that far and he remembers getting hit at the back of his head; that stung a lot.

“Do you know who I am?” Your voice trembles and Tomas has the urge to coo at you; obviously, he knows who you are, his heart keeps thrumming mercilessly against his ribcage the moment he opened his eyes.

“Yeah, I know, who do you think I am? A simple knock on the head won’t either kill me or make me lose my memory.” He half teases, but the scowl is still stuck on your face.

“Tomas-“ Your voice is serious and he can only look at you, at your trembling lips and shiny eyes “I seriously thought I lost you.” Your arms envelop his figure, your face hidden resting on top of his right shoulder,  new warmth adding to Tomas one.

He is stuck in place, but his mind is running wild. His left hand pats your head and he feels the corner of his lips twitching.

You must care about him a lot.

You lift your head up, your teary eyes locking into his gray ones, pupils wide, so deep he may lose himself in them. Tomas feels the time slowing down, almost stopping, your lips inching closer and closer ‘till they finally touch.

He reciprocates, not a single second lost, your lips dancing and searching for each other, breath mingling, tongue fighting in a battle of supremacy, both wanting to feel more of each other. Tomas pulls you towards him and your body falls onto his, chest against chest, heart beating at the same rhythm, divided by the layers of your clothing. Limbs tangle, hands everywhere, caressing and groping;  from an outside view, it wouldn’t be able to tell where one starts and the other one ends.

This ‘till your hand pulls Tomas’ hair. He breaks the kiss and flinch, maybe that was more than a little hit on the head. He can see you try to pull off from him, eyes full of worry, but his hands keep you in place, on his lap, fingers leaving indent on your hips that will for sure bruise.

“I-I shouldn’t have, sorry Tomas.” Your hands, so tiny and soft in contrast to his ones, push against his chest, like you are trying to distance yourself from him, head turned to the side not looking at him.

Your hair messy, your lips still red and bruised, and that worried expression, fuck, Tomas would like to frame his moment, your cuteness overwhelming all his senses.

Then you both hear a voice, it’s Madame Bo telling you to go back to work, the signal that he has to let you go. You remove yourself, Tomas’ hands finally loosening up. You brush your clothes in place and rush towards the exit.

“See you later” Tomas rasps out.

You nod.

Later you’ll have more time to talk about your feelings.

“Johnny-“ A breathy moan escapes your mouth.

The atmosphere is humid, the heat of your two bodies entangled is almost suffocating.

You missed Johnny, this new project he has been working on keeps him away from home for months. You are a supportive partner, you love him and you want to see him happy but, fuck, you missed him so much.

You are lucky he is on your same wavelength. He opens the door and your lips are already locked, hands unbuttoning shirts and pants being thrown somewhere.

“I missed you so much, Johnny.” You gasp in between kisses, your hand on the back of his neck to keep him impossibly close to you.

He groans, his hands now on your lower back lifting you up from the ground.

Everything else is a blur in your mind, you soon find yourself lying on the bed, legs open and Johnny working his tongue southward, your warm sex as inviting as water in the desert.

“Fuck-“ Your hand lay on his head, trying not to grip to harshly his dirty blonde locks.

“Yeah baby, tell me how good I am.” You look down to see his hips grind against the mattress, so desperate for you.

A wave of pleasure licks down your spine, your eyes roll back, throat exposed while you bit your bottom lip trying to keep a louder moan.

How good it is to be desired.

“J-Johnny you are so go-“ Your phrase gets interrupted by a gasp, a particular flick of his tongue makes you see stars, your legs reflexively close, but Johnny’s strong hands keep your thighs apart, fingers circling the inner side and you don’t know if it is done to calm you or him.

One of his hand leave your legs to play with your sex, his face now squeezed between your soft thighs, but your mind is too fogged to worry about crushing him, not that he minded his motions only getting faster and uncoordinated.

An orgasm soon permeates your body, Johnny lifts up, his lips drenched with your essence, his pupils blown wide, your heartbeat impossibly fast, a different kind of heat enveloping your limbs.

Your lips meet again, you taste your flavor on his tongue, lips locking, his hands now resting on your waist, pushing your chests impossibly close, but not enough, never enough.

“I love you.”

The night ahead is still long.

Bi-Han is awake, sitting on your bedding, naked, but the covers hide everything under the navel. The moon shines bright in the sky,  the light and shades framing his lover's body sleeping soundly next to him.

Bi-Han is a man eaten by greed, by pride, a man made more of scars than flesh.

But you love him and he loves you. It’s a feeling he never knew, it isn’t the kind of warmth he got from his mother's compliments, or from his brother's support, it is something much more exhilarating, that makes his eyes soften and his hardened core melt more than he’d like to admit.

His eyes land on your body, so soft, so sweet, he wants to defend you from all the ugliness of this world.

Maybe from him too.

He looks outside the window, the night is still long, but there is no sign of tiredness in his eyes.

“Bi-Han, it is late you should sleep.” Bi-Han breaths, he didn’t even notice how long he had been keeping his breath in, mind so busy and heart uneasy.

Your arms wrap around his neck, naked body laying on his back, your lips kissing his neck, where arteries and veins flow.

“Worried about something?”  Your eyes look at his face, he doesn’t look back but he knows, searching for any telltale sign of his emotions.

“Nothing you should worry about sparrow.” He breathes out, voice raspy as always.

You don’t believe him, he knows it. Your hand starts to trace the scars painting his skin, your lips barely caressing the newborn scratches on his back.

 “Tell me your worries, my heart.” Your arms hug his frame and push him down together with you.

Bi-Han doesn’t struggle against your hold, his head now in the crook of your neck, free hair tickling you.

“Don’t worry about me, tomorrow is a busy day and you need to rest.”  He kisses the tip of your nose, his calloused hand caresses your cheek, thick fingers drawing circles on your skin.

You kiss him, in a slow liplock. Eyes closed, hands holding.

Bi-Han bites your bottom lips before breaking the kiss and you groan, the only kind he likes.

He looks into your eyes and he only finds love, sweet and blissful. A new fire starts inside his heart.

Bi-Han still doesn’t know how to protect you from this accursed world, for now, he’ll have to settle for showing how much he loves you.

[nichuuu]

Where Our Blue Is

(青のすみか)

Word count: 13k+

Even now the blue lives Even now the blue is clear I’ve got a curse for you stuck at the back of my throat. It’s the unvoiced voice that says, “We’ll meet again, right?”

-

“You ever think about dying sometimes?” 

You raised your head from your Jujutsu Kaisen volume to stare at Rei. Her head was tilted up, eyes on the stars that were visible from under the tree. 

“Why do you always ask these pessimistic questions?” you couldn’t help but ask. She gave you side eye. 

“I think that’s just the way you choose to view my questions,” she replied.

“That is a horrible opinion…” 

“And this is coming from the guy reading manga at 10pm?”

You shut the book and sighed. 

“I don’t get to read much at home Rei…”

“And that’s my problem because?”

Your lips formed a thin line. You smacked her with your book. She yelped. 

“Hey!” she chided.

“Cry me a river,” you replied. 

Rei pouted and crossed her arms. “So this is what I get for trying to initiate conversation.”

“Who starts a conversion by talking about death?” you questioned.

“Me. Duh,” she retorted. 

“I think you need to polish your social skills,” you suggested. 

She snatched your book away from you. “And I think that you should stop engaging in bitchless behaviour!”

You clicked your tongue and snatched your book right back. 

“Let me be Rei,” you muttered.

Rei’s haughty expression softened. 

“H-Hey… I-I didn’t mean to piss you off…” she apologised. You waved it off.

“I’m not angry… Just tired,” you told her truthfully. The back of your head rested against the coarse bark of the tree. She shifted herself closer to you. 

“You okay?” she asked you. You nodded.

“I’m fine…” you assured her, “sorry for being so grumpy.”

“It’s fine,” she brushed it off, “we all have our bad days.”

Cicadas chirped in the distance. The lamp hanging from the nail that you’d hammered into the tree illuminated the space around you, the light swaying in the summer breeze. Rei yawned next to you. 

“You wanna know something?” she asked. 

“What?”

She hugged her knees to her chest and rested her face on them. 

“I wanna be an idol.”

You raised your eyebrows. 

“Sounds fun… But—”

“Not a Japanese idol,” she interjected, “I wanna be one of those Kpop stars…”

She piqued your interest. Rei would have these moments where she’d randomly rant about what she wanted to do in the future. One moment she dreamed of being a teacher, the next a Physicist… Being flippant about her future was her specialty.

“Kpop huh?” you mused, “listening to all that Red Velvet finally got to you didn’t it?”

Rei shot you a glare. “I know you’re grumpy, but could you not insult me for like five seconds?”

You raised your hands in surrender. She continued. 

“Just imagine it… Naoi Rei, the next biggest sensation!” she sighed, “I’ll be all over the internet… Those bullies would google my name and regret messing with me… God, it's such a dream…”

You chuckled. Your fingers drummed against the cover of your book. 

“Sounds like fun,” you remarked, “but I heard that the Korean Idols live tough lives.”

She pouted. “Are you saying I can’t take it?”

“I’m not saying anything,” you clarified, “I’m just… Cautioning you…”

She sat up straight. 

“Mark my words,” she declared, pumping her fist into the air. “I will become a star!”

You smiled. She was clearly delusional, but you entertained her. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” you joked. Rei let her hand drop back to her sides. 

“Wanna bet on it?” she wagered. 

“Sure. What are we betting?” 

She sat up straight.

“If I become a Kpop idol… You buy me lunch for a week,” she decided. 

“Deal,” you agreed, “but if you don’t… You buy me a box of these babies.”

You lifted your manga and wiggled it in the air. She laughed.

“Oh you’re on,” she readily accepted, “I’m so ready to burn a hole in your wallet!”

“Same here,” you grinned. Rei stuck out her hand. 

“We shake on it.”

You rolled your eyes and gave her what she wanted. Satisfied, she stood and stretched. You didn’t get up cause you knew that she’d sit back down just a few minutes later. 

“Hey,” she called, “if either of us makes it big in the future… Let’s promise not to forget each other.”

You looked up at her, watching her hair reflect the light from the lamp under the veil of the dark blue night sky. 

“I can get behind that…” you smiled. Rei giggled.

Her eyes reflected the blue of the night sky.

(That was when you were thirteen. She was Naoi Rei—your neighbour and best friend.)

“Hey.” 

You raised your head, blinking rapidly as you adjusted to the light assaulting your eyes. Sleeping in class was never a good idea, yet you persistently indulged in it. Rei waved a paper in front of your face, a gleam in her eyes.

“I secured an audition!” she squealed. 

“Oh… Nice.”

She pouted.

“You could at least be a little more enthusiastic,” she remarked.

“What’s there to be enthusiastic about when I have Math as my first period?” you grunted.

“Aw come on… Just one compliment?” 

You sighed.

“Fine… Great job Rei,” you relented. She seemed satisfied. 

Rei slid into her seat next to you, plopping her bag down on the floor with a loud thump. She took out her books, neatly stacking them on her table and laying her acceptance letter atop of the stack.

“I applied to four other agencies. I think I’ll hear from them soon.”

“Sounds cool.”

“I know right? I can’t wait to see their headquarters!” she exclaimed, “I’ll finally get to explore outside Nagoya! Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Very…” you muttered, slowly drifting back into sleep. 

Rei slapped the nape of your neck. “Reciprocate the excitement dammit!”

“Okay, okay! Happy! Yay!” you quickly spouted. Rei snorted.

“I always have to force these reactions out of you… Talk about a one-sided friendship…”

A hand grabbed the letter atop of Rei’s books. With a yank, textbooks and notebooks came tumbling down as the hand withdrew. Your head snapped up. 

“Wow Rei… I didn’t know they accepted ugly ducklings as trainees,” Riko sneered. She was the school’s “it” girl. Gucci glasses, an apple watch, horrible personality and a voice that could possibly shatter glass. To you, she was the epitome of the word “bitch”, a spitting image of Hiter’s missing testicle.

“Give that back Riko,” Rei huffed, throwing a hand out to snatch the paper back. The bully stepped back. 

“I think I’ll keep this actually…” Riko snorted, “hope you memorised the details of your audition Naoi Rei.”

Rei stood up.

“Give. It. Back,” she ordered through gritted teeth.

“Fuck you. You don’t deserve to be an idol,” Riko scowled, “ugly ducks like you would give people nightmares if they saw you on camera!”

The class erupted into laughter, you’d never realised that they’d been watching. You glanced at Rei. Her hands were clenched into fists, her knuckles slowly turning white.

“Get a load of this,” Riko taunted, pointing at a line on the letter, “we find that you have exceptional qualities and possess a unique personality!”

Riko tore her eyes away from the sheet of paper. “Do you feel better about yourself after reading this? All these lies making you feel good about yourself?” 

Rei’s whole body was shaking. She was about to make Riko catch her hands. You had enough. The legs of your chair dragged against the floor as you stood up. 

“Riko… Do me a favour and shut the fuck up,” you muttered. 

She gave you a look of amusement. 

“Wow! Such a hero,” she remarked causticaly, “do you get off following this bitch around like a dog?” 

You turned and strode right up to her. With as much disdain as you could muster, you looked her in the eye and scoffed. 

“Do you feel better about yourself spouting all this bullshit?” you questioned her, “does it really help you sleep at night knowing that you’re just some petty bitch that gets off on insulting others?”

You snatched the paper away from her.

“Hey!” she barked, lunging at you. You took a step back, relishing the look on her face as she lost her footing and fell. Her cronies rushed to get her back on her feet.

“Grow up. Go do something productive with daddy’s money. You’ll feel better about yourself that way.”

You walked back to your seat and settled back down. There was pin drop silence in the classroom. All eyes were on you and Riko. 

“Little shit…” Riko growled, “I’ll have—”

The sound of your homeroom teacher’s heels clacking against the floor alerted the whole room. Students scurried back to their seats, everyone pretending to bury their heads in their books. Riko shot you a dirty glare before storming back to her place.

“Bitch,” you mumbled, pulling in your chair and adjusting your uniform. 

You placed the letter on your desk and smoothed out the wrinkles on the snow white paper. Once satisfied, you slid it back over to Rei. 

“Get a folder for it,” you advised her, “it won’t crumple so easily if you have something to protect it.”

Rei stared at the letter. As you unzipped your pencil case, you could see from the corner of your eye that a smile was slowly creeping up her face. As homeroom started, Rei scribbled out something onto a scrap piece of paper. With tender hands, she slid the message onto your desk. 

Thank you. 

You stared at her pretty handwriting, a small smirk on your face. You flipped the paper over and wrote a reply. 

You can repay me with a fancy dinner once you become an idol.

Rei read your message and chuckled. With her eyes reflecting the blue in your uniform, she nodded and folded up the paper.

(That was when you were fourteen. She was Naoi Rei—your best friend, neighbour and an aspiring star.)

Rei slammed her locker shut as you approached. 

“Hey,” you waved, “how did the audition go?” 

Rei closed her eyes and sighed. 

“Rejected… Again,” she muttered. You let out a breath and patted her on the back. 

“Damn…” you huffed, “you okay?”

Rei opened her eyes. She smiled, an optimistic glow on her face. Her eyes reflected the blue of the locker.

“Yep,” she declared, “there will be more chances. I’m sure of it!”

You had always admired her drive. 

“I like your thinking,” you told her, opening your own locker to retrieve your things.

“It’s the only way to think,” she replied.

“Preach,” you chuckled. 

Rei giggled and leaned against the lockers. 

“Have you found anyone for the dance?” she inquired.

“Nope…” you sighed, pulling the last book out. “I think I just might go alone.”

You closed your locker. 

“What about you?” you asked in return, “heard you turned down Suguru…”

“Mhm.”

“Why?” 

Rei pouted.

“I don’t like his vibes,” she said bluntly, “besides… I think Nakamura Kazuha has been eyeing him rather keenly. I won’t get in that sweet girl’s way.”

She pushed off the lockers and stood up straight. 

“I don’t get it Rei,” you said, walking next to her as you made your way to class. “You’re getting asked out by all the popular and hot guys, but you turn all of them down.”

“What’s so wrong about that?” she refuted, “why should I go to the dance with someone just because they're hot or popular? It doesn’t make sense to me.”

You climbed up a flight of stairs.

“Well personally… I would jump at a chance to go to the dance with a hot and popular guy if I was a girl,” you expressed. 

“But we’re polar opposites,” she reminded you, “you and I are different. That’s our curse.”

You furrowed your brows. “Curse?” 

Rei shrugged. 

“I dunno… I guess it curses us to always be drawn to each other.”

You reached your floor.

“Ever so poetic Naoi-san,” you told her. 

 She grinned. “I top the cohort in literature for a reason.”

You walked with her to her class. Your classes were adjacent to each other, allowing the both of you to hold a conversation before separating.

“So who are you gonna ask to the dance then?” you couldn’t help but inquire. 

“I won’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

She smirked. 

“It’ll ruin the surprise…” 

She left you with that, quickly breaking away to slip into her classroom door. 

“Oi! Rei!” you called after her. She flipped you off through the crack of the sliding door. With a sigh, you were left to ponder on your own as you slinked into your own class. You plopped your books down on your table and hung your bag off the side of your desk. The classroom was noisy as per usual, the incessant chatter of Junior Highschoolers filling your ears. In your stack of books, you located the newest volume of Jujutsu Kaisen that Rei had kindly purchased for you. The cover was still on, Nanami’s face staring right at you as you folded your legs on your chair. 

You peeled off the plastic cover with care, gingerly sliding out the volume like you were handling a newborn child. The smell of fresh pages wafted into your nose, a smile turning up the corners of your lips as you flipped the book open to the first page.

That’s when the envelope slipped out onto your lap. It was light blue, your name scribbled across the cover with a brush marker. An onigiri sticker kept the flap of the envelope sealed. 

Casting surreptitious glances around you, you made sure that no one could see the envelope. After double-checking to ensure that the coast was clear, you unsealed the envelope and pulled out the folded letter within. It smelt just like a new book, the paper crisp to the touch. You unfolded the sheet of paper. 

I like you. Go to the dance with me. 

You almost dropped it. For a good long minute, you sat at your seat, stunned. 

“Yo yo yo! Watchya got there?” your friend chirped, throwing a hand over your shoulder. It took him a few seconds to read the note, and you could feel his eyes widen. 

“Wait… Is this actually…” he muttered. You swallowed. 

“I… I think so…” you whispered. 

It wasn’t the content of the letter that shocked you. Yes, it was the first confession letter you’d ever received, but the sudden reveal of feelings towards you wasn’t what made you flinch. For at the bottom of the page, a familiar handwriting had left its mark. It was an art piece really, but you never ever admired the hooks and curves of her handwriting more than you did that day.

Love, Rei.

Just like that, Rei had made the first move.

(That was when you were fifteen. She was Naoi Rei—your best friend, neighbour, aspiring star… And the first girl to ever ask you out.)

“Yo.”

You opened your eyes. Rei stared down at you, a glint in her eyes. “How long have you been sleeping up here?” 

You sat up and answered her with a lazy yawn. “I’d say ten minutes tops.”

Rei chuckled and settled down next to you.

“I think you should consider sleeping earlier,” she advised. 

You scoffed.

“It’s summer Rei, let me catch a break,” you grunted. She punched you in the shoulder.

“Don’t be grumpy because I’m caring for you.”

“Who said I was grumpy?”

She grinned. “Me.”

You loved the way her nose scrunched when you tickled her. You collapsed onto the mat with her, assaulting the flesh of her body with a barrage of tickles as she giggled and squirmed. 

“Stop!” she wheezed, dodging your nimble fingers that darted in all directions.

“I’ll stop when I want to,” you sneered. 

On the rooftop of your apartment, you tickled Naoi Rei endlessly under the blue summer sky. 

Eventually, you both got tired. With laboured breaths, you both laid on your backs and watched the white clouds dot the sea of endless blue before your eyes. It was a moment of peace, tranquillity… 

“Did you get any news from that agency?” you asked her. Rei let out one of those heavy sighs.

“Yep…” she answered. Her tone told you everything you needed to know. You wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. 

“It’s okay Rei… There’s always other opportunities,” you assured her, “an agency will accept you. I’m sure of it.”

Rei sighed and rolled onto her side. She buried her face into the crook of your neck, her breath tingling your skin. 

“I hope you’re right,” she muttered, “I’m starting to lose hope.”

“Don’t say that,” you frowned, “stay positive Rei… You’ll have your chance to shine.”

She pulled away—just a little so that she could look into your eyes. Here eyes reflected the blue of the summer sky.

“We’re always so different in thought huh?” she pondered. You smiled.

“That’s our curse…”

Rei chuckled and closed her eyes. Your lips met with hers, bodies melting into each other under the clear blue sky. The only thing either of you could hear was the sound of each other's breathing.

(That was when you were sixteen. She was Naoi Rei—your best friend, your neighbour, an aspiring star, the first girl to ask you out and the first girl you ever loved.)

Knock knock knock.

“Coming,” you grunted, getting up from the comfort of your sofa. You set your Jujutsu Kaisen volume down, leaving Sukuna to stare at the ceiling as you shuffled over to the door. When you opened it, she was standing there. Tears ran down her cheeks. She had a letter in her left hand, the paper scrunching under the force of her grip. 

“Rei?”

Her puffy eyes met yours. In the pool of her tears, you could see the blue of her sorrow.

“They rejected me…” she rasped, “they fucking rejected me…”

You stared at the paper in her hands. Your heart twisted.

“Rei—”

“Am I not pretty enough? Am I not doing enough? Am I not likeable? Is my personality all wrong?”

Her fingers were beginning to punch holes in the letter. 

“What’s wrong with me?” 

She looked at you, searching for an answer. You pulled her into your arms. 

“Nothing’s wrong with you duckling… Nothing’s wrong with you…”

She stood there for a moment, her ragged breathing filling your ears. 

Then she buried her head into your chest and cried. Heart wrenching sobs were torn from her being, the last remnants of her dream spilling out together with her wails and screams. You held on to her as tight as you could, fighting back the tears in your eyes as your girlfriend’s dream died before your very eyes.

You held for as long as she needed to be held for. She needed comfort.

(That was when you were seventeen. She was Naoi Rei—your best friend, your neighbour, the first girl to ask you out, your girlfriend of a year, and the victim of a crushed dream.)

“What… What do you mean?” 

Rei stood before you. Long had the gleam disappeared from her eyes, replaced by a soulless expression that remained unreadable. 

“You heard me… Let’s break up.”

Under the blue neon light of the convenience store, Rei looked you in the eye.

“I… I don’t see the point in staying together… We should go our separate ways,” she said, her voice devoid of any sort of emotion. 

“W-What? B-But… Why?” you asked, “d-did I do something wrong? W-Why are you suddenly doing this?”

You took a step toward her. She took two steps back. You stopped. She stopped.

“We’re… We’re different. That’s our curse…” she whispered. 

“H-Haven't we always said that’s a good thing?”

She looked away for a moment, slowly constructing her sentences in her head.

“As different people… I think we should lead our different lives…” She said, sliding her hands into her pockets.  “So yea… Let’s break up.”

“S-So… That's it?” you stammered, “could we at least talk about it?”

Rei chuckled. 

“I think it’s better for us to leave things this way,” she objected, “no hard feelings… it’s just that… You’re the easiest thing to let go of right now.”

She sighed and bit her lip. 

“That’s all from me,” she announced, “I… I hope you find someone that makes you happy.”

Under the blue of the neon light, through the blur of tears, you watched her turn and walk away from you. You tried calling her name, though it came out more as a strained cry.

She didn’t look back. You weren’t sure why you expected her to.

The curse that drew you together now pushed her away from you.

(That was when you were nineteen. She was Naoi Rei… 

And she had shattered your heart.)

Now as she sat before you in a posh omakase restaurant, rummaging through her bag to look for a file, everything she was to you came rushing back in a flurry of memories and emotions. As she set the file down, she kept her eyes on the table as she slid it over to your boss. 

“Thank you,” your boss smiled, flipping open the brown folder to review its contents. You were with her on another one of those client meetups, discussing the nitty gritty details of an event organised by your company's clients. It was set to take place in Shibuya two months from now. There was much to do, much to think of… It was all so fast paced. 

But when Rei walked in behind her boss and you met each other's gaze, everything seemed to come to a standstill. Years after she’d left you in front of the convenience store, she was back right in front of you. 

“It seems like your business has a good idea on what it wants to convey,” your boss mused, flipping through reports and various mock-ups of the venue. 

“Of course. This is a big event after all,” Rei’s boss replied. Your boss nodded and handed you the file. 

“Take a look. Feel free to give feedback,” she instructed. You nodded and accepted the file. 

“Rei here spent lots of time compiling and producing these,” her boss praised. “I can see the effort. Your work has my respect Naoi-san,” your boss complimented. 

“Thank you…” you heard her mutter. Her voice had changed a lot. 

You finished reading through the file as the first course arrived. 

“What do you think?” your boss asked. You set the file down on your right.

“I believe that the plan is… Feasible,” you nodded, “though I have to raise the fact that the logistics exceed the agreed budget by a significant amount…”

“We can always handle that,” your boss assured you, “money isn’t that big of an issue…”

You wanted to argue, but your boss shot you a look. You sighed and caved to her wishes. 

“Very well then… Is it safe to say that this event will take place on the date agreed upon?” Rei’s boss inquired.

“Yes,” your boss answered before you could input. She lifted her sake glass. “Let us toast to a successful project!” 

Glasses were raised, clinking filled the room. As you drank from your cup, you caught Rei’s gaze. 

Her eyes reflected the blue of your shirt. 

***

“You will probably have to go back yourself,” your boss told you. 

“I understand,” you promptly replied, “I will settle my own transport.”

She adjusted the golden earrings dangling from her earlobes.

“Try and make some friends,” she advised, “these types of events are the best way to make connections.”

The elevator door opened, the vastness of the grand ballroom revealing itself to you as you stepped out the doors. You adjusted your suit subconsciously, fiddling with the top button of your jacket. From across the room, Rei’s boss spotted the both of you. He said something to the guests he had been talking to, then brisk walked through the crowd towards the both of you. 

“Thank you for coming!” he beamed, “we’re so glad to have you here!”

“Thank you for inviting us,” your boss answered on your behalf. 

A week had passed since you had that meeting in the omakase restaurant. Work had been hectic for you and your team, but you managed to pull through the week with just enough sleep to keep you sane. The party invite from Rei’s company came as a welcome surprise, and your team gladly accepted the invitation. You opted to come with your boss after work, letting the rest of your team go off without you.

Now as you stood at a fancy looking table, hiding from social interaction by munching on all sorts of food, you wondered if this was really the break you needed. Now that you thought about it, you would have preferred to stay at home and catch up on the latest chapter of Jujutsu Kaisen. Your boss was off talking to Rei’s boss somewhere, you couldn’t really care less. 

“Hey.”

You froze. You were hoping that she wouldn’t be here. 

There was new weight on your plate. You looked down and saw an eclair sitting on the pristine porcelain. 

“Thanks for coming,” Rei smiled, setting down the pair of tongs. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Wordlessly, you stuffed the eclair into your mouth and turned to walk away. 

“Can we talk?” she piped. You stopped in your tracks, the pastry you at leaving a strange bitter taste 

“What’s there to talk about?” you asked. 

She walked around you and stood before you. She was wearing a dress that admittedly looked cute on her, but you didn’t let that comment slip past your lips. The dress was blue, blue like the summer morning sky.

“You know exactly what there is to talk about.”

You chuckled in amusement. 

“I thought you said that it was better to leave things as they were?” you sneered.

“I never said that.” 

“But you did,” you spat. “You said it right in front of the convenience store.”

She looked away for a moment.

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

You scoffed. 

“So this is how it’s gonna be then?” you mused. “You’re just gonna deny our past? Way to let me know I didn’t mean jackshit to you…”

“Stop being immature,” she muttered. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Me? I’m the immature one?” you asked, a generous amount of amusement in your voice. “Who’s the one who conveniently forgot about everything we went through?”

There were eyes on you. You didn’t care. 

“Look,” Rei sighed, “we’ll have to work together for the next few weeks… It’ll be better for both of us and our teams if we could just stay on good terms—”

“So what do you expect me to do then?” you interrogated her. “Conveniently forget about everything like you? Sweep everything under the rug and tell everyone that we’re strangers?”

The people around you were silent, watching you with a look of concern. Rei rubbed her brow. 

“I… I’m not expecting you to do anything…” she answered. 

“Then I won’t do anything,” you proclaimed. “We’ll do like you said, leave things as they are.”

In the same fashion she’d left you, you turned and strode away. It wasn’t till the elevator doors closed in front of you did you let out a small sigh. You leaned back into the elevator wall.

You had a few long weeks ahead of you. 

***

She was sitting across you, her eyes reflecting the blue of her computer screen. You didn’t want to admit that you’d been watching her for the past few hours, but you weren’t one to lie. She was focused as usual, her face full of seriousness and determination as her fingers flew across her keyboard. 

Seeing her on a daily basis wasn’t easy. Ever since the party, her company and your company had booked a co-working space for your team and their team to collaborate to work on the project at hand. You’d often make eye contact from across the room, feel her gaze on you as you wrote things down in your notebook… The tension was palpable, and your teammates could feel it. 

“Yo, what’s up with you and that Naoi girl?” one of them asked over lunch one afternoon. 

“Hm?” you asked, hiding the fact that you nearly choked on your tea. 

“I mean… I can’t be the only one that notices the way she looks at you right?” he continued, looking around the table. Heads nodded, eyes contained curiosity. 

“I uh… I don’t catch your drift,” you lied. 

“Aw come on… You like her don’t you?” another piped. “Don’t deny it, we can all feel the tension. Hell, we can almost grab it!” 

A laugh went around the room. You chuckled nervously. 

“I know that work is boring… But you guys can’t possibly be spinning this bullshit to entertain yourselves,” you joked. 

“But—”

“Let’s finish our meals,” you interjected, “we’ve got work to do.”

That was enough to get them to stop prying into your personal life. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to stop them from doing all sorts of funny things. When you walked into the co-working space the next morning, you had to resist the urge to cuss. 

They had all rearranged themselves. Somehow, your teammates had managed to get Rei’s teammates on board, seating themselves in such a way so that the only space available was next to Rei. You gripped your notebook with a vice grip, every bit of your willpower stopping you from bashing all of their smirking faces in as you made your way to the sole empty seat.

“Morning,” Rei greeted you. You remained silent and sat down to begin work. 

And that was the way things were for the rest of the project. No matter how early you came in, your teammates and Rei’s teammates were somehow there before you. You admired the commitment they had put into forcing a close proximity between the two of you, but you’d have preferred if they could channel this level of commitment into their work instead. 

A week before you were due to head to Shibuya, all nighters became a common occurrence for you. As the team leader, your boss expected frequent updates and reports from you, and some of those reports required you to stay up till the wee hours of the morning to be completed. Rei shared a similar problem as her team’s leader, resulting in uncomfortably high amounts of tension when it was just the two of you in the space. She didn’t talk to you, and you didn’t talk to her. 

But that Friday night was different. You were packing your things, Rei was still working. As you slipped in your notebook, Rei broke the silence.

“How long are we going to keep acting like this?”

You zipped your bag.

“I didn’t know we were acting…” you muttered. Rei’s hands left the keyboard of her laptop.

“Could we at least talk this out?” she pleaded.

“I thought you forgot about everything?”

Rei leaned back in her chair. 

“I… I don’t want to keep this up anymore,” she whispered. “I’m tired… I’m tired of having to pretend that we’re strangers to each other.”

You set your bag down on the table. 

“Well… Maybe you should’ve thought about that before conveniently forgetting our past.”

“Don’t—”

“Maybe I’d be more willing to talk to you if you’d just said what you really wanted to say at that party.”

Rei closed her eyes and sighed. 

“I’m sorry,” she strained, “is that what you wanted out of me? Did you want me to apologise?”

You rested your hands on the table. 

“I don’t want an apology, Rei…” you croaked, “I want a reason. I want to know why we had to break up.”

You let yourself make eye contact with her. She looked hurt, like she was the one that had been walked out on that night.

“You left me without a reason Rei,” you whispered, “You just… Left me in front of that convenience store. I called, I texted… You didn’t reply. You cut me out of your life… I could never understand why.”

Pooling tears reflected the blue of the lights shining in through the windows. She wiped her eyes.

“So why Rei?” you implored, letting a tear run down your cheek, “why did you leave?”

She swallowed back a sob. “I-I… I can’t tell you…”

You closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath. 

“I guess we’ll never sort this out then,” you warbled, “good talk Rei.”

You shouldered your bag and left. 

She called out to you, and it was your turn to not look back.

It started to rain after you left the building. You’d never felt that the weather could fit your mood as much as it did that night.

***

She didn’t come to work the next day. Nor the day after. 

“Her Mom called me,” one of her co-workers that was close to her explained. “Apparently she got drunk and sat out on a park bench in the rain. She’s running a fever now… She must’ve been stressed by this project.”

You processed this information.

“Understood,” you replied, “thank you for letting me know.”

In truth, you would have appreciated it if she hadn’t explained why she was absent. You had more things to think about since she’d mentioned it. It made you feel guilty for not saying and talking things out with her like she’d pleaded you to. 

Despite your strong sense of priorities, your focus was messed up. You’d like to blame it on the lack of sleep, but you knew that wasn’t true. You caught yourself thinking about her as you poured your morning coffee. You found yourself in a daze when you were waiting in line for lunch. You realised that she’d been on your mind for a whole day when the last team member left for the night and your report was still blank. 

On Monday of the next week—two days before you were meant to leave for Shibuya—Rei still hadn’t shown up. That day, you made the executive decision to clock out early on the pretext that you needed some rest.  A phone call to your mother and a twenty minute drive later, you found yourself outside of an apartment door. 

It wasn’t any random door. It was Rei’s. Well… Not exactly Rei’s since she still lived with her parents.

“Am I really doing this right now?” you muttered to yourself. You gave yourself a minute to think about what you were about to do. 

“I’m just checking in on her… It’s not weird right?” 

Everything about that situation felt weird to you.

“Ah fuck it.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“In a minute!” a familiar voice called out from the other end. The sound of sandals shuffling against the floor grew louder as someone approached. 

The door opened. 

“How can I…”

She stopped mid sentence, trailing off as she looked you up and down. You smiled sheepishly and waved. 

“Hello Ms Naoi… Long time no see.”

Re’s mother made a sound, an amalgamation of syllables that tumbled out of her mouth in a jumbled mess.

“What… What are you doing here?” she finally managed to ask.

“I… I heard about Rei,” you explained, “is she alright?”

Ms Naoi looked you in the eye. With a sigh, she opened the door wider and stood aside.

“Come in dear boy… There’s much to be discussed.”

She fixed you a hot cup of green tea, setting it before you on the tatami tea table that you recognised from your childhood. Rei’s mother knelt down on the cushion opposite you.

“How have you been?” she asked warmly. 

“I’ve been… Alright I suppose,” you answered. Ms Naoi smiled and nodded.

“You look healthy and well…” she remarked, “you’ve grown so much since I last saw you… When was that again?”

“It was… Quite some time ago,” you replied. To be exact, it was 8 years ago. The last time you ever saw Ms Naoi was 2 months before you broke up with Rei. You were over at their place, helping them fix an Ikea shelf because her father had back problems and couldn’t get it done himself. 

“Where’s Mr Naoi?” you inquired, the short jog of your memory suddenly making you aware of the fact that Rei’s father was nowhere to be seen. Rei’s mother sighed.

“He’s dead,” she stated solemnly, “he’s left us for some time now… Car crash.”

You blinked. 

“O-Oh,” you sputtered, “I… I didn’t know…”

“It’s alright,” she assured you, “you and Rei had split by then, and I’m not the type to tell the whole world that my husband is dead… How would you have known?”

Ms Naoi sipped from her own tea cup. You looked around the house. It was smaller than the original apartment, but cosy nonetheless. Your mother did explain that they’d shifted here for cheaper rent. Monetary problems were your best guess.

“I understand that you and Rei have… Reacquainted,” she began, setting down her cup. You shifted on your seat. 

“I-In a way,” you answered.

Rei’s mother nodded silently. 

“How do you feel about her?”

She’d caught you off guard. You expected her to ease into the hard questions, maybe ask you a little more about the type of work you and Rei were doing… You didn’t think she’d launch such a question 2 minutes into the conversation. 

“I… I-I don’t get what you mean,” you lied. 

Rei’s mother rested her hands on the tea table. Time had not been kind to her. She looked visibly worn, wrinkles covering her once smooth and lively face. Her fingers were filled with calluses, wrinkled and bony—A far cry from the gentle, warm hands that used to serve you a snack whenever you were over at Rei’s house.

“Rei… Rei has been thinking about you alot,” she informed you. “She’s been restless since you two started working together… I hardly see her sleep for more than four hours.”

Ms Naoi wrung her hands.  “She missed you terribly after you both split up… I thought that her final rejection letter from the idol industry would be the most she’d ever cry. I was… So, so wrong.”

You stared at her bony fingers, unable to form sentences to communicate your thoughts. 

“She never told you why she wanted to break up, did she?” 

You found the courage to look Rei’s mother in the eye. Slowly, you shook your head. Ms Naoi let out a breath. “After her father’s back problems got worse, we entered a rough patch. Money was dwindling, times were tough. I had to take on two job’s to keep us afloat… And I overworked myself one day and collapsed.”

Ms Naoi fiddled with her index finger.

“Rei didn’t want me to overexert myself, so she took on part time jobs to help chip in to stabilise our income…”

“That’s why she couldn’t meet me as much…” you whispered. 

Rei’s mother nodded. “Yes…”

Your eyes seemed to focus on one spot on the table. Those loose ends were coming together now, questions that’d been on your mind slowly answering themselves as you made new connections with the new information given to you. 

“I always thought that you were the one that broke her heart,” Ms Naoi chuckled, “I never thought that my daughter would be the one to leave you. She loved you so, so much… So much to the point where I thought she loved you more than me.”

There was a moment of silence as Ms Naoi stared at her hands. 

“But when I found her on that park bench two nights before, I realised how wrong I was.”

She looked like she was about to cry. You spotted a tissue box at the edge of the table. Wordlessly, you grabbed it and slid it across the table. She smiled gratefully and pulled a single sheet of tissue. 

“When Rei’s drunk… The things she hides all come pouring out. That night, she talked about you. She told me everything she’d hidden from you… And from me.”

Rei’s mother dabbed her eyes. 

“That girl… That stupid stupid girl…” she laughed softly, “why did she keep all that to herself?” 

You awkwardly cleared your throat and asked, “What did she say?”

Ms Naoi sipped from her cup. 

“I can’t give you the full rundown of what she told me, but I’ll give you something that I think she needs some help conveying to you.”

Rei’s mother reached over and held your hand.

“I think… She still loves you. She always has.”

***

She still loves you. She always has

A car drove by.

She still loves you. She always has

You walked across the road.

She still loves you. She always has

The asphalt seemed to reflect that very line. Sensory overload was what you felt like you were experiencing—The sun was setting behind the buildings, birds flew, trees swayed… You were suddenly aware of all the smallest movements around you. On the bench, you folded your legs in and stared into the sky. The sea of endless blue was slowly beginning to bleed gold. 

“I need a fucking beer,” you decided. 

And so you got one. From the nearby convenience store, you got yourself an icy cold Asahi, cracked it open, and took a small sip. You wanted a drink, but you didn’t want to get drunk. 

The beer helped to ground you in reality, the ringing in your ears slowly fading as you stepped out of the convenience store. Just down the road, a vendor was selling sweet potatoes. 

Dinner.

Beer. Sweet Potatoes. Park. To you, that was the perfect recipe for alone time. With your back against a tree and your eyes closed, you let yourself process the churning feeling in your chest. You were no stranger to this feeling. Your hand ran through your hair as you let out a frustrated sigh. The churn in your chest was nothing but a jumbled up, churned, mixed amalgamation of emotions. It was funny how one girl could make you feel the way you felt. 

Memories came and went in your head, moments that defined your relationship with Rei replaying like they had when you saw her in that omakase restaurant. A personal cinema in your mind, complete with surround sound and every single emotion you’ve ever felt with her. The blue of your past.

“Hey.”

You opened your eyes. She was standing in front of you, dressed in a blue cardigan and her hair looking akin to a crow’s nest.

“Aren’t you sick?” you asked.

“Not really. I just took an extra rest day.”

Silence.

“By the way… Is ‘Hey’ the only word you know how to greet me with?” you continued. She didn’t reply, opting to settle down next to you. You didn’t move away.

“Figured I’d find you here,” she said, “you dropped by our place?”

“So she told you,” you remarked, “I did drop by. Tell your Mom I’m sorry that I didn’t touch my tea by the way.”

Rei nodded and set her gaze forward. Before you, there were two children tossing a baseball back and forth. The blue of youth. 

“What did Mom say?”

“Not much…  She didn’t disclose any secrets if that’s what you’re wondering.”

She chuckled softly. Even though her voice changed, her laugh stayed the same. The blue of your memories.

“Why did you drop by?” she inquired.

“You haven’t come to work for three days. I wanted to see how you were doing…”

She rubbed her palms on her jeans.

“So… You came on purely a work basis then…”

You sighed.

“Not really… It was more personal than anything.”

She stared at you for a moment.

“I… I suppose we should talk,” she whispered. 

You folded your legs up. “I was just about to say that.”

You glanced over at her. She was fiddling with the sleeves of her cardigan. You held your beer can out to her. 

She looked at it for a moment, then she took it and took a swig.

“You go first,” you prompted. She removed the can from her lips. 

“Right…” she muttered, “I guess I should.”

She handed the can back to you. 

“Mom told you what happened to my dad, right?” 

“Mhm.”

“Then you know why I started working.”

“Yep…”

“And now you’re probably wondering why I didn’t say anything to you.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but you knew that this was the time to tell the truth.

“Yes,” you replied. You heard her head thump against the bark of the tree.

“Well I… I’ll just be frank with you. I didn’t want your help.”

You stayed silent to let her continue. She did.

“I knew that you’d do everything you could to help us out. The prospect of you diving headfirst into my problems scared me, because I knew that you had a tendency to over commit.”

She wasn’t wrong. In junior high, you committed at least half of your time there into baseball, thinking that you’d grow up to be a big shot pitcher when you grew up. No one ever had the heart to tell you that you sucked mega balls at the sport, but you learnt the hard way when you left junior high without ever playing a single baseball game for your school.

“And… That was the exact reason why I broke up with you.” 

You raised an eyebrow, failing to make a link between her predicament and your break up. Thankfully, Rei was thorough with her explanations.

“I knew that if I didn’t leave you, you’d find out eventually, and you’d want to help. Then I’d have to reject you, then we’ll argue and… I-I couldn’t go through that cycle. Yes, it’s selfish. Yes, it’s an assumption. But I… I just had this feeling that I’d rope you into my mess if you started to help us out.”

Her voice was wavering by the second. You didn't look at her because you knew that seeing her cry would make you cry too.

“I had to save you from myself so… I left,” she finished. “That’s… That’s it…”

There was a moment of silence as the long unanswered question had finally been brought to a close. With a sigh, you readjusted your seating position. 

“I suppose it’s my turn then,” you mused.

“Yea… I-I’m listening.”

You’d been thinking about this moment for a while. You had a plan on what to say, what you’d do, how you’d convey your pain and anguish into coherent sentences… But now that the moment was here, your grand speech had been lost in your mind. didn’t know what to say to her. 

With as much courage as you could muster, you opened your eyes and turned your head to Rei. You didn’t know what to make of the look that she gave you, but past her tear-glazed gaze, you could make out the blue that always seemed to be reflected by her eyes.

It was the blue of youth.

It was the blue of your past.

It was the blue of your memories.

It was the blue of your love. 

Blue was the colour of the night sky—the setting of when you made that promise to never forget each other. Blue was the colour of your uniform—the clothes that you’d accepted her confession in. Blue was the colour of the summer sky—the sky that you shared so many kisses with her. So many things, moments, emotions… All dumbed down into one simple colour.

And within Rei’s eyes, that was where your blue was. The blue resided there. The blue remained clear.

“Forgive me but… I’m going to curse at you Rei.”

She sat there. Her mouth hung open ever so slightly, her mind unable to fathom what she could possibly say. A tear rolled down your cheek, summer-like colours dazzling your vision. Rei squeezed her eyes shut. 

“Let it out,” she warbled. “Let’s fight it out if we have to.”

You stayed silent for a moment, thumbing the tab of your beer. The direction you were taking with this would be a far cry from Rei’s long-winded, heartfelt explanation. But then again… The curse of you being different from her still remained. Whether it pushed her away or pulled her back was in your hands

So you looked her in the eye and released the curse that had been stuck at the back of your throat.

“I’m still fucking in love with you Rei.”

You weren’t sure why you had to phrase it in such a strong way, but it simply felt right in your head. Rei watched you carefully, as if waiting for you to continue, but you had nothing left to say.

“Is that it? Is that your thing now? Giving me one-liners and leaving it as that?” 

You could only stare at your beer can.

“I’ve never been good with words Rei… You know that…” 

She went silent for a moment.

“Neither of us have been good at communicating,” she remarked, pushing her hair back behind her ear. “It’s one hell of a problem isn’t it?”

She was right. Neither of you were able to communicate how you truly felt about each other up until that point. Finding the words to tell her how you still loved her was hard, so hard that you had to cuss just to get your point across. It felt rather bleak, even pathetic to an extent if you had to admit.

“I guess that’s one similarity between us,” you chuckled. “Looks like the curse of us being different isn’t as prominent as we thought.”

The corners of Rei’s lips turned up into a smile, one of fondness. “Right… That curse.”

She reached out her hand. You handed her the beer can. She tossed her head back and took a swig.

“Since we’re out here airing our thoughts… Can I say something else?”

“Not gonna stop you.”

Rei set the can between the two of you.

“That night, I told you that you were the easiest thing I could let go of… Do you remember that?”

It was hard to forget. She’d devastated you with that line, left you questioning your self worth for an extensive period of time. Of course you remembered what she said.

“Mhm,” you hummed. 

Rei sat there for a moment.

“That… That was a lie,” she uttered. “It was a lie… You were the hardest thing to let go of.”

You had a feeling she’d say something along those lines. But you still chuckled and said, “Really?”

Rei wiped her eyes. “Yes…” 

You sat on it for a moment, then you asked, “why?” 

“Because I loved you. You were the world to me.”

Loved. Were. Past tense. You wondered if what Rei’s mother had disclosed was true.

“And what about now?”

She glanced at you. “What do you mean?”

“How do you feel about me now?” 

Her lips curled into her teeth.

“I still love you… I always have.”

Ah… There it was. You’d heard it from her mother, you’d heard it from her. Thesis confirmation. 

Your sweet potatoes had gone cold inside the paper bag. You hadn’t touched it since you bought it.

“You know Rei… I’ve thought about what I’d do if you ever told me that you still loved me,” you chuckled. “I had a whole speech planned and everything.”

Your fingers gripped a blade of grass and plucked it out of the ground as you vocalised your thoughts. “But now that you’ve actually said it… I don’t know what to tell you anymore.”

“Neither do I,” she replied.

You caught her gaze. She held it. 

You blinked. 

She surged. 

When her lips pressed against yours, your senses stripped from you as everything went still for a second.  For a moment and only a moment, it felt like all the wrongs in the world had been righted, a void in your chest made whole. It was only when your back hit the grass did your senses come back to you—A sudden wave of sound, a burst of colour, the smell of her hair, the taste of her lips, the feel of her body pressed up against your chest on the grass. Your hand instinctively wrapped itself around her waist, holding her close to your body as she kissed you gently, tenderly; letting the kiss burn on your lips for as long as she could allow it.

The blasted need to breathe eventually interrupted. Her lips pulled back. Her eyes fluttered open. There on the grass, in front of a bunch of people who were probably giving you the oddest of looks, Naoi Rei had made the first move on you once more. At this point, it was made clear what you were to each other.

Your voice faltered, a hot tear rolling down your cheek as you called her name. “Rei…”

“Yea?”

Her face fit right into the indent of your palm, a familiarity in the sensation of her warm cheek in your hand.

“Please keep loving me. Don’t let me go again…”

Her hand clutched the fabric of your shirt, gently tugging on your t-shirt; pulling you closer.

“I don’t plan to go anywhere,” she replied. “I’m staying… For good this time.”

Everything about the situation felt so right. Once more, reminiscent of that time on the rooftop under the clear blue sky, your lips found hers. A shared breath, a shared moment. Her body felt warm against yours, her hands finding their place on either side of your face, as if she believed you might disappear if she ever let go of you again.

It was a gentle kiss, one of passion and of love.

It was a gentle kiss, one of longing and of need.

Your blue was becoming clearer than ever.

“Take me out,” she whispered. “Somewhere, anywhere… I just want to be with you.”

Your lips curled into a smile. “Aren’t you supposed to tell your Mom that I’m sorry for not drinking the tea?”

“Fuck that,” she giggled. “Take me somewhere.”

You thought about it for a moment.

“How does a tour of my place sound?”

***

Courage. That’s what it took in that moment to bridge the gap between you and Rei. It felt awkward to be vulnerable around her once more, to be honest and speak your mind around her. You had to re-open old wounds to re-establish that connection between the two of you.

But the effort paid off. 

With her back pressed against your apartment wall, your tongue dug into her mouth. She held your face tightly in her grasp, pulling you in, pulling you closer. She wasn’t going to let go, neither were you.

“Fuck… I forgot how good that felt,” she rasped. 

“I’ve always been a good kisser,” you winked back. 

“Now I’ve got a curse for you—Shut the fuck up.”

Your hand reached under her chin. “Make me.”

She did just that. 

Stumbling, pressing, pulling, tugging… She was far from gentle as she forced her lips on yours. Wild? Frantic? You had no words that could describe how rough she was. You weren’t too sure how you got into the bedroom, and you sure as hell weren’t sure about how your hand ended up beneath Rei’s jeans, but you knew that she was so incredibly needy. 

A smack of her lips. She broke away from you. 

“You always liked to rush into things,” she mused as she watched you unbutton her jeans.

“And you always talked a lot… Where do you find the energy to speak this much?”

Her jeans slide off her legs with ease.

“I dunno… Where do you find the energy to read manga after work?”

“How do you know what I do after work?”

She pointed off to the side. You followed her gaze to the shelf next to your bed. 

“Still into Jujutsu Kaisen huh?” 

You chuckled.  “Uh huh… But I’m into something new now…”

She smirked. “Let me guess… Me?”

She was spot on.

You took off your shirt. She unbuttoned her cardigan.

Unfasten, remove. Unfasten, remove. 

Skin to skin, you pressed your lips on hers. Your hands found the cool skin of her tummy, her hands rested on your shoulders.

“You have a great body Rei,” you told her. 

“Thanks… I’m rather proud of it.”

“As you should be.”

Her hands held your forearms, breath on your neck. Her bra was still on her. 

“May I take that off?” you politely requested. 

“I dunno…” she smirked, “do I want to let you take it off?”

“That’s up to you.”

With a smile, she reached behind her back.  “Give it a second… It takes a bit of manoeuvring.”

“I’m not planning to go anywhere,” you grinned. 

Her eyes met yours. Within Naoi Rei was your blue.

“Neither am I.”

click 

The fabric atop her chest loosened. Left strap, right strap. Off her body and onto the floor. Simple, quick and alluring. Rounded, shaped and inviting—Her tits sat proudly atop her chest, light nipples standing at attention. You found yourself gawking, a tightness growing in your underwear.

“It’s… It’s rude to stare you know,” she quipped.

You snapped out of it. “Sorry.”

“You better be… Did your mother not teach you how you should behave with a woman?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t bring my Mom into this.”

“I bet she’d be real disappointed if—”

Her gasp tore through her sentence. Your mouth found its place on her left breast, gently sucking on the nub atop the mound. Her hand slipped beneath the waistband of her panties.

“You’re so fucking wet,” you grinned. 

“All… Your fault,” she manages to retort, a hint of feistiness in her rebuttal. 

“You’re right. Let me take care of it.”

Your digits slipped past the dripping folds, entering the warmth of her insides as you started to feel around inside of her. Juices coated your fingers, flowing from the tip of your pointer to the base of your wrist. Sighs filled your ears. 

“Baby…” she whined. Her hips bucked when you found the soft patch of flesh on the roof of her walls. She didn’t hold back on her cries when you began to wiggle your fingers, fingertips vibrating back and forth about the same spot as she squirmed on the bed. Luscious thighs clamped around your hand, locking your wrist in place while you worked your magic on her. Her front teeth revealed themselves when she bit down on her lower lip. 

“So… Good…” was all she could say. Wracked with pleasure, driven by need… Rei was a work of art. “L-Like that… Just like that!”

You never remembered her to be this wanton. Then again, it was your first time with her. It was a new side to Rei, a breath of fresh air from the usual cutesy, lovey girl that she was around you. You never knew that she was so well endowed. Then again, Rei never wore anything that flaunted the curves of her body or the swell of her breasts. It was all new to you, a new sensation, a new feel.  Her hips were bucking. Filth continued to pour out of her parted lips. Your mouth found itself back on her erect nipples, giving them the attention that they deserved. Her hand found your head, nails digging into the back of your skull.

“That’s it… Suck them…” she rasped. “Suck my tits, they're yours…”

Your eyes caught hers as you looked up.  “All mine?” 

She nodded furiously. “All… Yours.”

A flurry of motion. Your fingers exit her. Rei’s panties are removed, thrown somewhere in your room. In a matter of seconds, you're positioned above her, cock lined up with her flushed lips.

“I’m gonna own you Rei,” you growled.

With visibly flushed cheeks, she smirked and challenged your gaze. “Less talk. More action.”

You entered her with one firm, strong stroke, burying yourself inside the tight flesh of her body. Rei lets a long, drawn-out moan out as she’s filled with your cock. The moan soon turned into a long string of pleasurable sounds as you began fucking her. Her thighs opened, spread and stayed that way as you begin to fuck her with quick and strong thrusts, firmly spearing yourself within her and making sure she felt each entry and exit in and out of her tight body.

Your delight peaked at the sight before you—Those perfect curves of hers, those large round breasts and her full, flushed thighs bouncing and quivering with each thrust. Her eyes were half-lidded with pleasure, locked on yours from the moment you entered. The blue was replaced with lust and need. 

“So fucking good…” she moaned. “More… Give me more…”

You entered her harder, deeper. You move your palm up her body to capture one of her bouncing breasts. The feel of her sweat beneath your skin as you palmed the soft flesh was titillating. Her hardened nipple poked out between your fingers as you squeezed the sensitive flesh with your hand. Rei clasped your hand on her tits with one of her own. She squeezed your hand, passionate and encouraging, urging you to tighten your grip on her mounds. The soft curse that escaped her lips when you obliged told you everything she wanted you to know—She wanted it. She wanted you. 

“I’m gonna cum,” she said. The way she conveyed it only urged you to do more. Your movements became more urgent. Though your own orgasm was building, you resolved to make sure she enjoyed hers first.

The hand clutching yours on her breast squeezed your own tighter and tighter. With her body almost completely flushed against yours you increased the tempo of your hips as they crashed against hers. Your hand left her breasts, sliding down to grip her full hips, pulling her into your crotch as you thrusted into her. You slammed her against your body even as you thrusted deep with your shaft, impaling her as hard as you could with each thrust.

“Oh God!,” Rei cursed, “I’m gonna cum so hard! Oh! I’m so close… I’m gonna cum… I’m gonna—”

You silence her with a hand around her throat. “Do it, Rei. Cum for me.”

A dark look crossed Rei’s face. As if on command, Rei did just that. You watched as she was ruined by pleasure, losing control of her movements as she withered helplessly on top of your mattress. Her pussy pulsated around you, tightening and loosening, clamping down fiercely around your shaft. Her mouth opened—a soft, strained moan, one of pure pleasure, a gentle release of emotion. You released the hand around her throat.

You slowed your thrusts, letting her slowly wind down from the high while keeping your own orgasm at bay. Sweat glistened on her milky skin, her chest heaving. Her eyes were shut, lips parted to let sweet, fresh oxygen enter her body as she breathed deeply. 

“Why… Are you so good at this?” she huffed.

“I think I’m just a natural,” you grinned. 

Rei rolled her eyes. “You little narcissist. Come here.”

Her lips graced yours. The must of her sweat was wafting into your nose now, but you couldn’t care less. 

“Hey,” she called after you’d broken the seal. “You’re my first…”

You let that sink in. “Really?”

She nodded. “Yep… One and only baby…”

“Wow… I guess I’m… Honoured?” you responded. Rei laughed and pushed your hair out of your eyes. 

“Now’s not the time to tell me how you feel,” she lectured, “now’s the time to make me scream and make a mess out of your place.”

“We’ll have to clean up though…”

She smacked you on the shoulder. “Figure of speech dummy.”

You chuckled. “You know me—I’m bad with words.”

Rei giggled, resting a hand on your chest.

“But you’re not too bad with your actions,” she simpered, “so why don’t you talk less and do more?”

You challenged the jeer head on. “You sure?”

She sat on it for a moment. A familiar grin made its way up her face.

“Are you gonna make me change my mind?” she asked.

“Depends… What if I can?”

“I’ll… Buy you lunch for a month.”

You let yourself grin. “Same wager as last time huh?”

“I guess,” she shrugged. “Now how expensive is your couch?”

***

You were certain that you were bleeding from at least four points on your head, but you didn’t really care. Rei’s nails dug into your skull, acute pricks of pain littering your skull as she moaned your name. You’d found another way to make her squirm.

Your mouth on her crotch drove her off the rails, the loud gasp that left her throat being the biggest indication. You delivered long, slow licks from bottom to top, the flat of your tongue covering every bit of her pussy before settling on her clit. You swirled the tip of it around the hard little bud, bittersweet and tangy taste of her juices flooding your mouth. Her warm, sticky thighs wrapped themselves around your face, keeping you right where you want to be—Between the pillow heaven of her thighs and right in front of that dripping slit.

“Oh… Oh fuck… You eat me… So good,” Rei drawled. Her voice had taken on a new tone, the pleasure coursing through her body filling the filth spilling forth with generous amounts of need.

She’d make a great singer. You thought to yourself as she started to practically flatten you on her pussy. You wondered why all those agencies turned down a honey sweet voice like hers. 

Then again, she wouldn’t be moaning the way she was in an audition. Maybe she would if it was a casting call.

“Oh keep going… I’m so close,” Rei rasped, hips thrusting upwards in a desperation to chase her second orgasm for the night. You were happy to make her cum as many times as she liked. Your goal was to divulge every single method that would make her squirm after all. 

Pure filth—raw, unfiltered curses and explanations began streaming out of those parted lips. Her body tensed, her eyes rolled. 

The quickly built orgasm took Rei completely by surprise. She twitched, quivered, writhed on your couch as the pleasure completely overwhelmed her. You could hardly hold on to her wildly shaking thighs, struggling to keep your mouth locked onto her crotch as she thrashed about. Her sweet fluids dribbled down your chin, dripping onto your couch and ensuring you a rather complicated clean up. A future problem for future you to solve. 

She pushed you off her, her upper limit reached. Her head hit the cushioning of the couch, tremulous legs barely able to stay upright. 

“Change your mind yet?” you jeered.

“Fuck… You…” she managed to spit.

“Ah… Guess not,” you huffed. 

Maybe you needed something fresh…

***

“B-Baby…”

With her slim tummy pressed up against your kitchen counter, you pushed her hair over her shoulder so that you could see the delicious curve of her back. You looked down, watching as your rock hard cock disappeared and reappeared between the folds of her tight little pussy. Your shaft glistened with her fluids, lubricating your member to the point where you were sliding in and out of her almost effortlessly. 

“Harder,” she pleaded, “fuck me harder…”

Both your hands reached around her small frame to fondle those amazing breasts. “You sure.”

She nodded vigorously. 

“I’m a good girl… I can take it…” she whined, “Please… Give it to me…”

There was something about the way she vocalised her infinite need. A certain feel, a certain tone… Whatever it was, a dark part of you relished the way she pleaded to be fucked the way she liked it.

It turned you on to no end. 

Your right hand tore itself away from her breast, snaking up her collarbone and wrapping itself around her throat. Without warning, you applied pressure to her windpipe. A raspy gasp left her as you start to properly fuck her, giving it to her just the way she wants.

“Yes… Y-Yes baby…” she mewled, “fuck me… Fuck me like this… Own me.”

She had said it. She was yours for the taking. 

Drilling in and out of the tight hot warmth of her body, you railed her with quick deep strokes. With each stroke, you concentrated on pumping hard and fast, filling her as much as you could while you relished the tightness of the flesh wrapped around your cock. Skin slapped against skin, mixing with the delightful squelch of her pussy as the two sound waves mixed into an arousing symphony of pleasure. To top it all off, Rei’s strained cries floated above the sounds, filling your ears and filling your desire to make her quiver on your cock.

“Ugh…” Rei strained. She was gripping the counter with a knuckle-white grip, desperately trying to release her pleasure somewhere, anywhere. Her tightness was overwhelming—overwhelmingly tight and hot, overwhelmingly wet and slick. It grasped you tightly with each entrance, just like a glove. It sucked you in, held you, then released you. It was working all sorts of wonders on your body. 

“God Rei… I love your tight little pussy,” you growled into her ear. The hand around your throat limits her to a series of grunts and moans to reply to you. You pinched her nipple with your free hand. Her pussy clenched tighter around you. Her hand finds your one on her throat. She squeezed it tighter. 

“Har… Der…”

You weren’t one to refuse. 

You were practically ramming yourself against her. All the while, her eyes are glued to yours as she looks over her shoulder at you, those eyes glazed with pleasure and lust and just a hint of blue in her eyes, face twisted in a vinous mix of pain and pleasure—unfiltered lust. 

Soon Rei was cumming. Her mouth opened in a frozen, wordless “O”, her body tightening and pulsing around you. Her small, curvy frame quivered and shook as she momentarily lost control of herself for the nth time that night. You slowed your thrusts, gradually coming to a stop just as the tingle in your shaft was at its peak. You wanted to save the load for when she officially changed her mind. 

You almost forget about your hand clasped around her throat as you watched her cum. It was only when she frantically tapped on your hand did you release her throat from your grasp. She gasped, sweet sweet oxygen refilling her lungs as she slumped forward on your kitchen counter. 

“Shit… You okay Rei?” you asked with genuine concern. She gulped down another breath of air. 

“I… Still… Don’t change…” she panted. She didn’t need to complete her sentence, you knew what she meant.

“Feisty little duckling,” you sighed. It was getting frustrating. Your cock was aching for the sweet release of your orgasm. 

But your ego wouldn’t let you cum before she yielded. You decided that perhaps a nice warm shower could change her mentality.

***

The warm water fell over both of your bodies. Her skin took on a smooth, creamy and quality as it flowed over her perfect body, flowing over her round breasts and flying from her outstretched toes as her legs shook with each thrust. Blonde hair was plastered to her face, her cute features twisted by lust and pleasure. Nails dug into your back, arms pressing you tighter against her. Her pulsing pussy tightened around your shaft, a sign of yet another impending orgasm. You redouble your efforts.

“Cumming… Again?” you half grunted, half teased.

“Yes! Oh fuck I’m so close!” she shamelessly admitted.

Adjusting your grip on her tender ass, you lengthened your thrusts. Deep, hard and fast—you fucked Rei with her back against the cool tile, eliciting cries that echoed throughout your shower. Rei wrapped her legs around your waist, spreading her legs wider for you to get as deep as you could possibly go. She was holding on, grounding herself in the midst of her pleasure while she was being fucked senseless.

“Fuck Rei,” you hissed. “You're so fucking tight.”

“So… Full…” she managed. “I’ll… Never… Fuck…”

She could barely form sentences, the corner of her brain in charge of that rendered useless by the throbbing, rock hard meat that relentlessly slid in and out of her pussy. You had been relentless with your assault, thrusting frantically between her thighs from the get go. Your pride didn’t allow you to cum before Rei yielded. Till she did, you would gladly fuck her, finger her, eat her out… You’d make her cum a hundred times over if it meant beating her. 

You shouldn’t be this competitive considering the fact you’d just reunited with her, but something about the carnal way you fucked her and the cries you forced out of that mouth of hers made you believe that she’s enjoying every second of what was happening. She wanted it, loved it, needed it. She was about to break soon, you could feel it.

Her will finally snapped, the last straw on the camel's back laid. Willingly, she dug her face into the crook of your neck.

“Fuck the wager… I… I just need you,” she admitted. “Please… Cum together with me.”

A small sense of euphoria filled you, but it was quickly replaced by the pent up lust within your being. For the next few minutes there were no more words, only the sound of wet flesh hitting wet flesh and the long, uninterrupted stream of wordless moans escaping Rei’s mouth as she willingly gave in to you against the shower wall. Forehead against hers, your measure ploughed her wet, hot pussy again and again, her tight body rocked from head to toe with each impact of your crotch against her own.

Then in a moment of sheer bliss, you both groaned and succumbed to your orgasms. The pleasure that flooded your body was indescribable, warm, hot semen erupts from your shaft into Rei’s pulsating, welcoming depths that milked you of every last drop. Basking in the intimate moment, you held her close to you, her breath filling your ear to the backdrop of the falling water. 

When you pulled out of her, a thick load came oozing out of her creamy little pussy. Her eyes opened, held your gaze… You let yourself swim in the blue that had found its way back into her eyes, as if it never left this whole time. 

“I guess… I changed my mind,” she panted. You chuckled weakly.

“That’s what I thought.”

***

As it would turn out, you’d share a lot more firsts with Rei. Her first time buying a Shinkansen bento, her first ride on a Shinkansen, her first time out of Nagoya… You had the privilege of enjoying these experiences that were all new to her by her side. You’d forgotten what it was like to have her in your life, but the familiarity of dating Rei would come back sooner than you thought. 

Kisses, hugs, whispers. 

“I love you”s, jokes, petty bickering.

Her hand in yours, the blue in her eyes, that smile on her face. 

It all felt so nostalgic, teenage years flying right before your eyes. You’d both aged, but you were both the same teenagers that fell in love all those years ago. She was your everlasting blue, a blue that would never go out of style.

One new thing in your relationship was working together. She had a serious side to her that you were getting familiar with, and she was getting used to your task oriented nature. Notebooks filled with your different handwritings, diagrams were analysed and discussed. You wondered why you never got to work with her sooner. 

Another thing that was new was the sex and the fact that you were working together now. The night before you were both scheduled to leave, you’d learnt that she could fit your whole length into her mouth without gagging. The morning you were set to leave, you learnt that she loved the feeling of being choked while taking your cock in and out of her dripping pussy. The night you got back to the hotel after a briefing, you learnt that she had a tendency to let her hands drift all over you in the shower. She also had a tendency to moan extra loudly while you fucked her atop the sink. 

New day, new things.

“You ever think about dying sometimes?”

You raised your head from your notebook to stare at Rei. With her head resting on a pillow, she stared up at the ceiling.

“Where is this coming from?” you couldn’t help but ask. 

Rei shrugged. “Dunno… Just thought about it…”

“That is a horrible way to think…” 

“And this is coming from the guy working at 10pm?”

You shut the book and sighed. 

“Someone has to be responsible…”

“And that’s my problem because?”

Your lips formed a thin line. You smacked her with your book. 

She yelped. “Hey!” 

“Cry about it,” you replied. 

Rei pouted and sat up. “So this is what I get for trying to initiate conversation.”

“Who starts a conversion by talking about death?” you questioned.

“Me, dummy,” she retorted. 

“I worry for your boss… He wants you to talk to clients?”

She snatched your book away from you. “Nag, nag nag… Jesus, you’re like my Mom!”

You clicked your tongue and snatched your book right back. 

“Someone has to parent your childish ass,” you muttered.

Rei’s haughty expression softened. 

“Yea…” she chuckled. “Guess you’re the best person to take care of me huh?” 

You let out a small laugh. She shifted herself closer to you. 

“You okay?” she asked you. You nodded.

“I’m fine…” you assured her, “just a little tired”

“It’s fine,” she brushed it off, “I understand.”

Rei yawned next to you. You slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to you as you opened your notebook back up.

“You wanna know something?” she asked. 

“What?”

She rested her head on her shoulder. A soft, warm whisper filled your ear. “I love you.”

You didn’t need to look into her eyes to know that the blue was being reflected in her eyes. Your blue would always reside there after all.

For she was Naoi Rei—The girl that shattered your heart and put it back together again. She loved you. She always did.

And you loved her too.

/_______________________\

If you made it all the way here. Thank you so much for reading. I sincerely appreciate all the support you've given me. Have a great day :)

[hoernypie]

⋆｡˚ moonlight magic ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

tags: public, p+v, creamp!e

wc: 1972

Suguru and I had been planning this vacation for months, eager to escape the stressful missions and life of jujutsu sorcerers, allowing ourselves to immerse in the peacefulness of the countryside. The cottage, nestled by the tranquil lake, was a charming retreat that promised peace and relaxation after all our stress. We arrived just as the golden sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the calm waters. After unpacking our bags and preparing a simple dinner, we stepped out onto the porch to breathe in the crisp night air, the gentle hum of cicadas our only company. The full moon, a luminous orb in the velvet sky, reflected on the lake's surface, turning it into a shimmering mirror of silver light. The thought of a night walk to explore the area was too tempting to resist, so we laced up our shoes and set off into the quiet embrace of the surrounding woods.

"I hate when they cry", I huffed as we walked slowly. "Who's cry?" Suguru asked confused, his eyes searching the darkened woods with a hint of concern. I chuckled, squeezing his upper arm. "The cicadas." He listened intently for a moment, before snorting. We continued our stroll, the moonlight guiding our path.

As we walked deeper into the woods, the sound of the cicadas grew faint, replaced by the rhythmic rustling of leaves beneath our feet. The air grew cooler, carrying with it the scent of damp earth and pine. Suguru, kept a watchful eye on our surroundings, while I drowned in the beauty of the moonlit landscape. Our laughter echoed through the trees as we pointed out peculiar shapes in the shadows cast by the silvery beams. Suddenly, the serenity was pierced by an unmistakable splash from the lake. We froze, our hearts pounding in sync with the night's rhythm. Curiosity piqued, we cautiously approached the water's edge, our eyes scanning the now-disturbed surface for any sign of what had caused the disturbance.

"Suguru... Do you think it's a good idea to stay here?" I asked with a worry in my voice, looking at the ripples that distorted the moon's reflection. Suguru looked at me, his gaze flickering with a mix of curiosity and caution. "Let's just check it out," he whispered, taking a step closer to the lake. The water remained still, but the silence felt heavier as if the night itself was holding its breath. "No, no! Please don't check, it's how people die in horror movies!" I whined looking up to see his face.

Ignoring my pleas for caution, Suguru pulled out his phone, switching on the flashlight to scan the lake. The beam of light danced across the water, revealing the silhouettes of trees and rocks on the other side. Then, it caught something moving, something large and unmistakable. "It's just a loon," he said with a chuckle, the tension vanishing from his shoulders. The bird, having realized it was no longer hidden, let out a call before diving back into the water. "See?" He turned to me, flashing a reassuring smile. "It's just nature doing its thing." "Stupid bird", I huffed when we sat on the fallen tree trunk, "I almost saw the pearly gates."

With our hearts still racing from the unexpected encounter with the loon, we shared a nervous laugh. The adrenaline rush brought us closer together, and we found ourselves leaning into each other, our eyes locking in the soft moonlight. The air grew thicker, charged with a new kind of energy. Before I could protest, Suguru leaned in and pressed his lips to mine, his hand gently cradling the back of my neck. The kiss was slow and tender, starkly contrasting to the chaotic world we had left behind. We made out, our breaths mingling in the cool night air, the moon casting a gentle glow on our faces. For a moment, we forgot about the monsters and curses of our daily lives, lost in the tranquility of the countryside and the warmth of each other's embrace. The lake's surface stilled once more, reflecting our silhouettes as we deepened our kiss, the only sound the distant whisper of the breeze playing with the leaves above us.

Our kiss grew more passionate as we let go of our carefulness, the stress of our lives melting away with each tender brush of our lips. Suguru's hand slid down to hold my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my palm as we breathed in unison. The moon, our silent witness, cast a soft, ethereal light over us, painting our skin in a silver glow. Time stood still as we savored this moment of intimacy, the serenity of the lake a contrast to the intense passion we shared. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves while we kept whispering sweet nothings to ourselves, getting lost in the pure feeling.

As our kiss intensified, the desire to be even closer consumed us. Suguru's hands found the hem of my shirt, gently lifting it over my head, revealing the moon's glow on my bare skin. Our lips never parted, as he worked his way down, his kisses leaving a trail of heat along my neck and collarbone. His touch was tender and exploratory as if discovering me for the first time. In return, my fingers traced the firm lines of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt. With a soft murmur, I helped him remove it, our bodies pressing together in the warm night air. The moon, still high in the sky, bathed us in its soft light as we slowly undressed each other, our clothes discarded like leaves on the forest floor. Our kisses grew deeper, more insistent, as our bodies melded together. Without a word, Suguru swept me up into his arms, the sudden movement sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes, gleaming with playful mischief, met mine as he stepped into the lake, the water cool against my skin. "What are you doing?" I gasped, but the laughter in his voice was contagious, and soon I found myself giggling as he walked further in. "I've always wanted to do this," he murmured, his eyes never leaving mine as the water reached our waists. The moon's reflection shimmered around us, casting a glow on our faces as we kissed once more, the cold water contrasting the heat between us. Our bodies moved in sync as he held me, the gentle current of the lake swaying us back and forth around our bodies. It felt like a moment of pure bliss, making our kisses grow more passionate with each passing second. The world outside the cottage, the missions and curses, all felt a lifetime away as we shared this moment.

Suguru's strong arms tightened around me, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to maintain balance. His hands explored my bare skin, sending waves of pleasure through me, and I gasped as he found my hardened nipples, teasing them with his thumbs. Suguru's hands continued to explore my body, his palms cupping my breasts with a gentle yet firm touch. He rolled my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, the sensation sending electric jolts of pleasure through my core. I moaned into his mouth, my hips rocking against his growing arousal.

Suguru broke the kiss, his gaze dropping to my chest. He kissed a path down my neck, his hands moving now to fully embrace my breasts. His mouth found my nipple which he sucked gently at first, then with increasing pressure before flicking his tongue against the sensitive peak. I gasped when his tongue sent waves of pleasure through my body. I gripped his hair before he switched to the other one, giving it equal attention as his teeth grazed it. The water around us grew choppy as our movements grew more urgent. Suguru's mouth left my breasts to kiss back my neck, leaving hickeys while his hands guided me to straddle him more firmly. I could feel the tip of his dick pressing against my entrance, and the anticipation was killing me. He bit my neck as he pushed just the tip of his dick inside me, the cold water of the lake rippling around us. My walls clenched around him as he stopped, savoring the feeling.

Biting his bottom lip, Suguru pushed his dick in one swift move, his tip hitting my cervix and sending a wave of pleasure mixed with pain that filled my body. My moan echoed through the quiet night, mingling with the distant sounds of the forest and the occasional splash of water. His movements grew more desperate, the water around us splashing with his rhythm. Each thrust sent a jolt of glee through me, my nails digging into his shoulders as I held on tightly. Our kisses grew more desperate with our lips crashing into each other while we chased the pleasure. Suguru's hands gripped my hips as he buried himself deeper with each powerful stroke. With each passing moment, his strokes grew more powerful and desperate, his grip on my hips tightening, almost bruising my skin. My body was on fire, the pain from Suguru's fingers digging into my soft skin was sending me closer to the edge. I could hear his muffled breaths growing ragged against my neck which was now covered with hickeys and bite marks.

"You're so fucking tight," he grunted against my neck, his hips moving quicker and more forcefully beneath me. "I can feel every inch of you," he groaned, his teeth grazing my earlobe before biting down gently. "You're going to come for me, aren't you?" he whispered, his voice ragged. My breaths grew shallow, my body trembling as I approached climax, the tension coiling tighter with every stroke when he hit my sweet spot. The overwhelming pleasure filled my body, my pussy clenching tightly around his dick as I mewled out his name, looking at him with glossy eyes, before he pushed his dick inside me, making me squirt all over him. The warm liquid spurted between us, mixing with the cool lake water as my pussy clenched tightly around his cock. "Fuck, yes," he murmured, his grip on my hips bruising as he held me in place, his cock pulsing deep inside me. His thrusts grew erratic, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he chased his own release. "You're going to milk me dry," he rasped, his voice thick with need. "Look at me," he demanded, squishing my cheeks and pulling my face closer to his. "Look at me as I fill your pussy." I looked up, my eyes locking with his as his strokes grew more intense, his words of how good it felt only heightened my sensitivity. "You're so fucking beautiful when you come," he moaned before his warm cum filled me, my pussy greedily gripping his cock as he emptied himself inside me.

Suguru didn't stop moving his hips as he came, his cock pushing deeper with each spurt of cum that filled me up. "You're so fucking perfect," he murmured, his eyes hooded with pleasure. "Your pussy is so tight, it's like it's made for me." We stayed like that for a moment, his lips leaving soft kisses on bite marks and hickeys that he left on me. The only sound was the quiet lapping of the lake water against our skin. I held him tightly, our hearts racing, as our shallow breaths filled the silence. The moon's light reflected off the water around us, a silent witness to our passion. "I've wanted to do this for so long," he spoke softly, his voice thick with satisfaction. "And it was worth every second of waiting." I smiled, my cheeks flushed, knowing that this was just the beginning of a week filled with us going wild.

[kon-kon-kon-kon]

[mintmatcha]

Part One: Baby Blue

cw: mentions of abuse, sexual encounter with dubious consent. a character driven piece

It was the first day of summer.

Fireworks scattered across the sky, just far enough away for the fat of their blooms to be concealed by the inky treeline. They whistled up, they fizzled down, forming a slow pattern that cut through the cicada song. The sound sizzled like fire and the night burned nearly as hot.

Cursed energy moved the same way fireworks did: unpredictably and variation in patterns. Fractions of light that flitted between almost everything, it flitted and flowed in an unsteady beat, dissipating into the air and forming fractals that spiraled out into nothing. When items got close enough to each other, they fully connected, sparked webbings that looped and laced endlessly a beautiful and lonely world for only Gojo Satoru's eyes to see.

The meeting house seemed to cling to remnants of curses, its walls tacky with faded imprints. Nothing more than ghosts of people who had once past through and the brighter, soft haze of you.

There was sorcerer somewhere in your bloodline, but only the silhouette of it was left for you, broad strokes with no real power behind it. When he was young, the men on the grounds had whispered about what a shame it was that you weren't like your father.

Sometimes, he agreed. Other times the sentence sat heavy in his stomach.

Gojo pushed off the shoulders of his yukata, but being bare chested did nothing to break the sweat. Heat still hung heavy on his skin. This house was not only stagnant in energies; wind passed over the tree tops, but didn't reach down to touch anything air on the property. 

A fuzzy, invisible string connected and Gojo knew you were near. He turned from the window before you even opened the door.

"Master Gojo." You bowed as you spoke, gaze cast low to the floor. The shadows moved heavy on your face and, for that moment, you looked like your mother in all the ways Gojo knew you would hate.

Over the years and infrequent meetings, he had learned a few things about you. Breakfast and lunch were your responsibilities, but dinner was deemed too important to be yours. You didn't sleep well at night, so you watched the stars and thought about everything and nothing.  The fall weather always made you sneeze, your mother always made you cry.

That night, your eyes were puffy and bloodshot, more so than they usually were.

"Master, huh?" He cocks his head and a droplet of sweat follows the new curve of his neck, trailing down, down, down. "Kind of kinky to call me that when we're alone."

Your eyes followed the beadlet for a moment and a pride swelled in his chest. He was used to women looking - they've been vying for his attention since he was too young to understand what those gentle touches and long glances meant. Power attracted desire, even long before he could reciprocate.

The way you looked at him feels different. It felt earned.

"You're still a cunt, aren't you?" you breathed, incredulous.

And suddenly, it felt like you'd really entered the room. Those fractals rotated, sparks spun. For once, he was thankful to be the only one who could see this version of the world. If anyone else could, he might have been embarrassed at how palpable his joy really was.

"How's my favorite maid?" He patted the porch next to where he sat,  "Sit with me. It's an order."

Just as you always did, you obeyed, walking across the room and coming down by his side. Usually, you'd have shed your traditional garments for something more casual to sleep in, but that night you were still dressed properly, with skirts pulled tight and neckline high. An unfamiliar scent clung to your skin, something much too mature for someone as young as you. Your mother wasn't someone to wear perfume, so he imagined you stole it from in between the pages of a magazine.

"You didn't bring your pretty friend this time."

Gojo wasn't aware of the silence between you until you broke it. A myriad of orange sparkles across the sky, fading out just as quickly as it had arrived.

"Oh? Which one?"

You stretched out, extending your legs past the perimeters of your skirts and pulling them back again. The fold of your leg pushed the fabric up, exposing much more thigh than Gojo is ready for. You've been beautiful since you were a child - beautiful in innocent ways, beautiful inherently- but you'd grown past that.  You were beautiful in ways that made him want.

"The one with the fox eyes," you said, “Geto Suguru.”

The recent memory of betrayal was bitter between Gojo's teeth. The news of it all had spread so quickly, ripping through whispers and gasps, that he hadn’t thought of the possibility of someone not knowing.

"Nah." He sucked the word through his teeth. It would have been impossible, but he swore he tasted gunpowder and sulfur on the air, “We aren’t friends anymore.”

You nodded as if you could possibly understand. 

"Gojo, I'm here to ask something from you."

You twisted to face him, eyes set strong and serious. Even in the dim of night he could make out how you sucked in air through your pursed lips to steady yourself.

"Have you ever..." You walked forward on your hands, pressing into his personal space. The tips of your fingers brushed against the sides of his thighs, so delicate he could barely feel it through the fabric. "Been with anyone?"

He scoffed and chuckled at the same time, almost choking on his own spit. Attention was not new, but touch? Touch was unexplored. 

"Yeah," he lied. He moved in sync with you, leaning back on to his elbows to make space for your body to slot above his. It was unnatural and strange, but welcome all the same,  "And I’m good at it.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you breathed. He tilted his chin up, closing the gap between your faces as much as he dared; any closer and it would have shattered the cocky swagger he feigned. It was you who broke the tension, slipping your fingers under the rim of his glasses and lifting them off, “And you’re lying through your teeth.”  

The air pulsed with color - the deep blues and reds of his own energy absorbing yours for a moment, so vivid that it was all he could see. 

“Is that why you came here?” he said, conceit dripping from his voice, “Come to steal the great Gojo Satoru’s V-card?”

“No," you replied, “I’m here to give you mine.”

You discarded your shirt. With an ease, your bra followed suit, tits exposed to the night air. It struck him that you were the first woman he'd ever seen naked in real life, imperfect in all the ways porn hadn't prepared him for, but incredibly, wonderfully real.

"Well?" 

Gojo realized he had fallen still. You were there, waiting for an answer. 

He would've been stupid to say no. Men don’t turn down beautiful women, men don’t say no to sex. Despite that, a bitterness clung to the back of his throat. He swallowed it down as he brought his hand to the elastic band of his underwear and pushed it down.

"If Geto was here, would you have sat on his cock instead?"

You don't hesitate. "No, I don't want my first time to be with a stranger."

That struck him as odd; despite the occasional encounter, he barely knew you at all, and yet you were straddling his waist, skirts gathered at your hips. If anything, the relationship between you was nothing more than a childish dream, something Gojo held on to when he needed to feel human.

"I thought it'd be…" You cocked your head as you gripped his penis, much too tight to be comfortable,  "Firmer."

"Ouch," Gojo cooed, only part of his anguish performative, "Give a man a chance to warm up."

"We don't have time for a warm up," you insisted, "He'll kill me if he finds me here."

Before he could question, you moved again. Your panties were suddenly pushed to the side and he was suddenly very aware of just how close you were, core pressed against core. His body reacted the way you wanted it too, but that sick, bile taste rose again-

In some ways,  Geto tore holes when he left, nibbled, frayed edges where trust should be. Whatever was between the two of you was different than whatever Gojo had with him, but those jagged pieces ached the same. 

"At least-"  Gojo fumbled forward, grasping for your face and any semblance of control. Once he had you, long fingers completely covering your cheeks and buried into your hair, Gojo tugged you close, noses bumping, "Kiss me first, damn." 

When his lips met yours, you laughed. It's not what he expected, not what he imagined all those times the thought had crossed his mind. It was wild and arrhythmic and loud, uncontrolled and unrefined, so much so that he had to stop so your teeth didn't clash against his.  When he dipped in for another kiss, you didn't stop, laughing against his lips and vibrating his face with sweet sounds. It's so sweet that he swore he could taste it, thick and lingering like honey, a flavor he hoped he could sear into his mouth and chest, never to forget. 

Then, the taste of salt tinted his tongue. 

Gojo pulled back just far enough to see your tears shimmer in the afterglow of fireworks. Suddenly, you didn't seem grown; you were just a child in the same ways he was. Comfort did not come naturally to him, instead locking his joints still in shock.

"Shit, you crying?" he said without thinking. 

Wiping your eyes with the palm of your hand, you tried to dip back in for more, but a firm hand from Gojo denied you. That was the final straw; you slumped.

"I don't-" You huffed in, sobs trembling in the corners of your voice, "I'm sorry, I don't wanna do this-"

Gojo knew the taste of mania. The high, the bad choices, all of it followed by the crashing, horrible lows; he should have known something was wrong with you much earlier. 

“I’m a little insulted you only want to fuck me because you’re having a mental break down- oi, quick cryin’, I’m kidding," He insisted, but you just kept sobbing, each moment growing louder and louder. When you were younger, your mother would bruise the backs of your thighs with a wooden spoon when she found you talking to guests when it was ‘unearned.’ It was fucked up then, but now, in his arms, it felt much, much worse. If he wasn’t here, would you have cried on your own? Would you hold in your feelings in silence?

“Shh,” Gojo patted your side, “Just say what's wrong.”

The night sat deep, the fireworks gone and the moon only a sliver. Even with his blackout glasses off, he can barely see you; the limited magic you carried dimmed itself down to nothing but dim. Like those glow in the dark stars kids hung on ceilings, he thought, a light so low he wasn’t sure if it was really there.

"Satoru." 

Oh. That sat strange in his stomach. Satoru: so strange, so simple.

It struck him that he didn’t remember your name.The whispers about you were always Maid, Daughter, Idiot, Useless. 

"Satoru, I'm getting married." 

His stomach twisted again. No ring sat on your finger, no excitement laced your voice. 

"Oh, shit. When?" Gojo said, “To who?”

"In ten hours," you said miserably, "Some Zen'in cuck//."

Gojo barked out a laugh at that. 

"It's not funny!” You were always funny, even when you didn’t mean to be. “They paid my mom for me and this stupid house and now I’m gonna have to spread my legs for some- some- some-.”

It took a moment for Gojo to swallow this. Arranged marriage was supposed to be for the elites, people who carried some sort of weight with their family name, but it wasn’t uncommon for the Zen’in clan to use it to their advantage. This meeting house was a neutral ground, holy in the same ways as a shrine; if you -a beautiful girl with just enough potential to guarantee a curse-user heir- were the consolation prize for owning property…

He doubted a man would turn down this deal.

“Can’t you just… say no?”

You scoffed and covered your chest, suddenly aware of your own nudity like Eve bit the apple.

“Not all of us are important, Satoru." 

Since childhood, Gojo had thought of you as normal. You were human, flesh and blood in the simplest, purest of ways, but that spark he had loved years ago had long been stamped out by the world. 

And Gojo hadn’t treated you much better. Teasing you through the years, claiming you as a ‘girlfriend’, never learning your name; it was like you were a doll, a simple plaything he could abandon here and return to only when he felt like it.

Geto flashed in his mind for a moment. He’d revel in the ways you saw yourself deserving of this.

Riko would have liked you, he thought. It was a shame you never got to meet.

The world shouldn’t be allowed to cannibalize both of you.

“You should go.”

You pulled away and watched him with wild, wild eyes. Gojo thought that, for the first time in his life, someone might be seeing more clearly than him.

“What?”

He gestured into the forest. The boundaries of it had disappeared into the night, forming a single neverending block. The whole world was in that nothingness, waiting for the night to end or for you to explore it.

"You should run and never, ever come back to this shithole.”

You didn’t even consider it, drawing back away from him.You clutched for your shirt, pulling it back on sloppily. 

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.” you press, “Where am I going to go? What am I going to do?”

He didn’t know the answer to that. It was possible you didn’t even have a proper education, let alone experience outside these walls. The human world wouldn’t be kind to you-

But this world never offered you any kindness either.

“I dunno,” he said, “But it’s gotta be better than staying."

.

The next morning, the buzz started before sunrise. The anger, followed by panic. For the first time maybe ever, he heard others call for you by name, searching every nook and cranny for a girl that had long disappeared. Your mother cried, but Gojo doubted the tears were really for you.

About midday, a dark haired man ducked into his room, wrinkles deepened in fury. 

“Have you seen that-” The stranger bit back a curse, “That maid?”

He said maid the same way Gojo used to, with unnecessary weight to the word. If he had less sense, Gojo would have corrected him, but instead he shrugged. 

“Why would I pay attention to a housekeeper?”

Luckily, the bra you had forgotten last night was tucked into his luggage already.

As tiny chaos unfurled, Gojo hung onto the memory of your figure disappearing into the night, only sparing him the smallest of glances before you were gone. 

That was the last time he’d ever see you, he knew. 

He was equally happy and horrified by that.

[anacdoce]

I Wish Chapter 5 - In a heartbeat

Pairing: Astarion x you (f!reader, implied sorcerer)

Rating: M

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: a very angst chapter; hurt; self-sacrifice; death. Maybe you'll want to read this in a safe place :')

Summary: You have made your choice, and there's no turning back now. You'll give Astarion his cure. Even if it costs your life.

a/n: Once again my thanks to @bloodlessdarling for her screeshots. They're perfect! <3

First, let me apologize for the gap of time between the last chapter and this one. I know some of you have been eagerly waiting for a while.

Second, let me say that this wasn't an easy chapter to write. Even if it doesn't seem like it, I love Astarion from the bottom of my heart and all I want is his happiness, I promise.

Stay with me on this, will you? <3

Read on oa3

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Astarion paces through the house. Impatient. Angry. Nervous. The more he thinks about what happened, the more he realizes he could have acted differently. Becoming mortal again had always been his secret and deepest desire. How could he refuse such an offer? But not like this. Not with the possibility of sacrificing his greatest treasure. You. 

“Shit.” He mutters under his breath. “I should have discussed this with you. I should have talked.” Regret claws at him. Maybe together you could have found a better solution. Or perhaps he could have made you see reason. Why would you sacrifice your life for him? For him? “Oh my love…” He gasps, the weight of his realization pressing down on him.

He has his armor on and eagerly waits for the sun to set. “Why did you have to do this? You’re a very stubborn woman! But I should have known better. This is on me.” His voice rises to a shout, echoing through the empty house. There’s no one there to listen and he’s trying to release the unbearable tension from him, but nothing is helping. And the waiting… oh, the waiting is making him become more and more anxious. With each passing second, you slip further away, and he doesn’t even know where to start looking. “Stupid! How could I be so stupid? Why didn’t I look at that cursed journal?! Because you’re stubborn too, Astarion.” He mimics your high-pitched voice, waving his hands in the air. 

He collapses into a kitchen chair, elbows resting on his knees, head buried in his hands. Why did Gale have to find such a thing? Why did he tell you about it in the first place? Because it was obvious what you were going to do. And yet Astarion didn’t think you could go against his will. 

“How did I not foresee this?” Astarion growls, clenching his teeth, angry in his voice. He replayed the past days in his mind, searching for clues. He remembers how strangely you were acting, a bit distant, actually. He assumed you were sad because he chose to ignore the scroll subject. Then he remembers last night, how you wanted to be close to him so badly all the time, how he felt your heart rushing when he bit you, and how you asked him to keep drinking your blood even when you were close to your limit. “You were saying goodbye…” The recognition hits him like a blow. For a moment he stands there, staring at the floor, with nothing but the noise of the cicadas outside to keep him company. “Aaahhhh!” He springs up from the chair with a snap, screaming, and in his anger, flips the kitchen table over the floor.

He slowly walks backward until his back hits the wall, letting himself slide down through it, crumbling on the floor next. His heart aches deeply, because he knows your love for him is true and he's about to lose you for that same reason. He wants to cry, give in to the fear and just cry. But he can’t. That is not an option. He has to be strong and fight for you. He tilts his head back, gazing at the ceiling, then shifts his focus to the window. The sun is nearly set.

“I haven’t lost you yet. There’s still time. Maybe I can reach you before you do something stupid. And that wretched Gale will help me. He knows where you’re going. He will lead me to you, my love.” He hopes Gale is still in the city, he knows that you talked to him just a few days before.

With a plan forming in his mind, Astarion shakes off his fears and starts to prepare to leave. The clock is ticking, and time is not on his side. 

—

When Astarion reaches Baldur’s Gate, he heads straight to the Elfsong searching for Gale. He sneaks past to the rooms, not wanting to be announced, and he finds Gale’s room easily by the smell. Lockpicking the door, he enters just to find it empty. Gale is not around. His bags are packed, he’ll be returning to Waterdeep soon. “Just in time.” Astarion whispers. He closes the door, and sits on a sofa in the darkest corner of the room, waiting.

A long while later, Astarion hears some movement in the corridor outside. It’s Gale. He opens the door, whistling. The night seems to have been pleasant for him. 

Astarion waits a little longer, letting him enter, and when Gale is about to take off his robes he says in a harsh voice, “I could have killed you if I wanted. And let me tell you, I don’t lack the desire.” 

Gale trips on the carpet in front of the bed, startled. He looks around the room searching until he sees some red glittering eyes enveloped in shadows, staring at him. “By the Gods! Astarion?! What are you doing here? In the dark?”

“The shadows don’t frighten me.”

Gale starts to light some candles, illuminating the room. Astarion remains in the same position, sitting with his crossed legs, staring at Gale like he is some sort of prey. “Well, I’m not afraid either. But this is my room and I wasn’t expecting any visitors.” Gale is feeling the discomfort under Astarion’s gaze. “Care to explain why you’re here? Where is (Y/N)?”

“You know, that’s a question I’d like to ask you myself.” He replies, without ever breaking eye contact with Gale.

The wizard feels the pressure. Something is wrong. “What are you trying to tell me, Astarion?”

“Such an intelligent creature as yourself can’t figure that out? How disappointing.” He pauses. Then he lifts and walks towards Gale, his face intimidating as it can be. When he reaches the wizard, he gives him the letter, your letter. “Here. Illuminate your mind.”

Gale holds the letter, recognizing your handwriting in it. “What is this?” He asks, already afraid of the answer.

“That, Gale, is her doom.” Astarion turns his back to him and walks to the window, where he can see the bustling streets of the city.

Gale starts to read the letter, and when he finishes it he looks to Astarion, incredulous. “She could not… I told her this was something she couldn’t do alone!”

“Do you not know her?! She was always ready to sacrifice herself to save your asses!” Astarion turns to him again, shouting, almost spitting with anger. “She has fallen for us over and over again! What do you think she was going to do?!”

“She told me the conversation with you didn’t go well, and she was going to drop this. I never thought…”

“You never thought?!” Astarion’s fists clenched, knuckles turning white. “Why didn’t you talk to me first? Before infecting her mind with such tales? This was about me! You should have asked me if I wanted it!”

“I knew that the possibilities of your acceptance on this matter were minimal.”

“You knew? And nonetheless, you told her.” 

“I did. She would have wanted me to. Astarion… tell me… if by any chance you could be gifted with your mortality again without any other conditions implied to it, would you accept it?”

“We’re not talking about what I want!” Astarion screams, menacingly showing his fangs.

“But we are. All of this predicament is precisely about what you want. And you just told me that I should have asked you first if you wanted it. So, would you have accepted it or not?”

“I would.” Astarions’s voice, low, shattered.

“She knew that too. I am sure if she had any doubt this was something you didn’t want, she would have forgotten it. But she also knew you would never choose this over her…” Gale approaches Astarion carefully.

“She had no right to choose for me.” 

“Maybe. And maybe she couldn’t live with the thought that she could have offered you your cure, but you refused that to her.”

“There could have been another way.” 

“You had given up on those, remember? Astarion… I’m sorry. I didn’t want any of this to happen.” Gale says with some anguish in his voice.

Astarion shoves Gale and turns around, walking away from him. “If she dies, I don’t want to see you ever again.”

Silence falls between them. Gale lowers his head, feeling the guilt of his actions. 

Astarion keeps his back turned to Gale. He can’t stand to look at him right now. He needs to keep control of his emotions. He needs to be cold and controlled again. But all he can feel is despair. And he can’t give in to that. Because nothing is lost. Not yet.

Love can give you so much. But it can shatter you in a million pieces too. Nonetheless, he is resolved to put himself together. He will have you back. 

Astarion takes a deep breath and, without turning to Gale, asks, “I believe that you know where she’s heading?”

“You didn’t even read the journal?!” But Astarion doesn’t answer, waiting for Gale to continue. “Yes… I know where she’s going. We can take a portal to Waterdeep and maybe gain some time doing just that. There we can discuss our next steps better.”

“You have half an hour. Gather your things. You will help me find her. This is as much your fault as it is mine.” And with no further words he leaves the room. He needs to get some fresh air. He needs to recover. 

Already outside, Astarion looks up to the starlit sky, to the very same starlit sky that had bound him to you some months ago. And he keeps staring at it, thinking of you, hoping you are doing the same somewhere, trying to be close to you in some way.

—

Laying on your bedroll, you gaze up at the beautiful stars in the sky. Your mind drifts to your own star, to the one you left behind. Your hand clutches your chest as if to ease the pain. You miss him so much. “Astarion…” You whisper his name, longing for him at your side. 

Several days have passed since you left home, and you finally decided to camp somewhere in a forest. You need to rest. You're weary and you haven’t slept much. Astarion’s last bite session has left you weakened, and your lack of rest isn’t helping. 

You’ve been pushing yourself to keep going, because you know Astarion is looking for you. For sure he went to Gale to ask him for help, so you have to take advantage of the time you have gained. Astarion can’t pursue you during the day, and you have made the effort to walk during the day and part of the nights too. But you can’t keep doing that any longer. 

Gale’s words are haunting your mind: “You have to be at your best.” And clearly, this is not your best. So, you decided to slow down a little. Have some good sleep. Recover. According to the journal descriptions you’re getting close - just a few days more and you’ll reach the place marked on the map Gale gave you. One more reason to regain some strength.

Every day since you left Astarion, you wonder if this was the right decision. And for some time now, you’ve been asking yourself the same question, over and over again: if you survive this, will Astarion be able to forgive you? Will he be able to trust you again? Because you defied him. You defied his will.

“If he can’t forgive me, I’ll have to accept that. This was my choice. I chose to sacrifice everything for him. And if with that he can live free from his curse, it will be worth it.” You hold your shirt, his shirt, by the cleavage and bring it to your nose, so you can smell him. It 's still there. His fragrance. Curling into a fetal position, you fall asleep with his perfume as your only comfort.

—

The day after reaching Waterdeep, Astarion and Gale had everything prepared to leave for the hunt. Gale gathered the most detailed possible maps of the region, in the short time they had, to make their choices easier along the way. And as soon as the night fell they got on their way.

During the first nights together, Gale made sure to tell Astarion everything he knew about the scroll, and the more he learned, the more his mood grew darker. Nothing in that story was good. Nothing in that story indicated a chance of success. For the next few nights all that was between them was silence. A deep and heavy silence. 

One day, after finding a sort of cave to rest and to keep Astarion protected from the sunlight, Gale is eating a snack, while Astarion is preparing his bedroll on the floor when Gale breaks the silence. “What are you going to do when we find her?”

“What do you mean, what am I going to do?” Astarion sits on his bedroll, embracing his knees.

“Obviously, you’re hurt. She defied you. And I was just wondering if you’ll be able to forgive her.” 

Astarion sighs, letting his head collapse in his arms above his knees. “Gale, I just want to have her in my arms again.”

“So, will you? Forgive her?”

“Forgive what? Forgive her for wanting to cure me from this bloody curse of mine?” Astarion lifts his head again. His voice is rising, and he feels some tears watering his eyes as he looks at Gale. He's so angry, but not with you, with himself. “Forgive her for showing me, once again, how much she's willing to sacrifice because she loves me more than anything?” 

Astarion senses that Gale is trying to find the right words to say, but he doesn't want to hear them. “I don't need your sympathy on this. I just want your help to find her.” 

“I know you don’t. But I’m worried all the same. I’m worried for you, and for her. I’m responsible for what’s happening. But I never wanted any of this. I feel guilty, and I deserve to be. I don’t need your forgiveness on this matter, but I need you to forgive her. She’s not the one to blame.”

“Yes, this is your fault, we can agree on that.” 

“I can live with that. What I can’t live with is seeing her with a broken heart after all this. You’re not the only one who cares for her…” Gale lowers his voice, looking to his hands, evading Astarion’s stare. Sadness in his eyes.

“I know how you feel about her. I always knew. In the beginning I never thought I could compete with such a refined man like you. But she chose me… me. And now I’ve let her slip through my fingers.” Astarion raises his hands, staring at his palms with his long fingers standing open in front of his face. In that moment the tears that were trapped in his eyes moments before, started to fall through his cheeks. He can’t stand the thought to be without you. It hurts. After all you’ve been through… He covers his eyes with his palms and pulls his silver curls with his fingers, fighting, once again, to maintain control. “If she had chosen you, she would be safe right now. But she had to choose me…”  

“I could never have offered her what you can. You make her smile like I never could. You give her more than you can imagine. You have to believe in yourself and in her. We have to trust she'll make it through this and you'll have a long life by her side, to prove yourself how worthy you are of her love, Astarion.”

A long life with you. That’s all he ever wanted. 

He lets his tired body fall in the bedroll, his back turned to Gale. “I think I’ve never felt so afraid. Not even with Cazador, because all he had done was to take. But she… she gave me everything.” His lips, trembling. “I’m afraid, Gale.” He feels his stomach flip at his confession. 

Gale takes some deep breaths before speaking again. “So am I, Astarion. So am I.”

—

The fog is thickening. For five days now all you see around you is fog. You wasted two days running around in circles trying to find the place where the scroll is hidden with no success, and the other three were spent retracing your steps, desperately seeking the right path. 

At the end of the sixth day, while searching for a spot to rest after a tiring day, you find an old ruin which looks like some kind of a tomb, surrounded by dead trees. It feels eerily familiar to you. You know this place. Your eyes are wide open and you frantically search your journal. You flip the pages one after the other, until you find it. This is it. This is the place. You feel your heart racing in your chest. There is no turning back. You're there. 

You approach the entrance of the ruin cautiously, studying the surroundings. That’s when you spot a death shepherd pacing inside. “That’s fine… I was expecting something like this. I just have to sneak around. The fog will help me.” You whisper, changing direction to circle the ruin.

You walk around it, trying to find another entrance. Two other possibilities were guarded too, and you continue searching, until you find a hole in a wall where you can fit. After making sure no one is on the other side to surprise you, you crawl through the hole to find yourself inside the tomb. Endless skeletons on the floor, equipped with swords and bows. “I can’t declare myself, or it will be the end of me…” 

Without moving you take a look around. It’s a round dark room, walls of stone, roots of dead trees breaking through the ground, and in the middle of it three steps lead to an altar where in it lies a scroll. The scroll. You feel your blood freeze in your veins, your heart skips for a moment, while you listen to the steps of the death shepherds in the room next to you. 

It looks simple. You can walk there, grab the scroll and leave. But nothing is so simple as it seems. So, you try to find the catch, somewhere. You walk slowly and silently, minding the skeletons on the floor, always alert at your surroundings. And you reach the altar without setbacks. You step on the stairs, one by one, closer and closer to the one thing that you most desire. The chance to give Astarion a possibility to live without his curse, giving him peace. 

When you realize you are next to the altar, hypnotized, looking at the rolled up piece of paper in front of you. And for a moment you stand there, at a palms reach of fulfilling your demand. Then you shake your head, trying to focus. You could daydream after getting out of there. You look for traps, but you can’t find any. And without further thinking you hold the scroll and take it.

Click!

“Shit.” When you lifted the scroll you triggered a trap, it was hidden by it and you couldn’t perceive it. In that moment a circle of necrotic magic surrounds you, spreading the effect to the majority of the room, leaving only the place where the altar stands untouched. At the same time some of the skeletons lying on the floor rise up ready to fight you to the death. Three death shepherds appear, standing at the entrance of the room, and you know that there lies your doom. They are out of reach for your spells, and even if you could kill some of the skeletons, the death shepherds will keep rising more and more after. 

You can’t flee either, because your misty step can’t reach the end of the necrotic aura that surrounds the room, and if you walk through it, it will drain your life and you’ll drop dead without even putting up a fight.

While you’re trying to master the panic that invades your body an arrow passes next to the left side of your face, kissing your cheek and earlobe as it flies over you. You scream in pain feeling the sharpening sting of the arrow kiss. A warm fluid runs down your neck staining your robes on the shoulder. You throw your hand to your neck just to see it painted with your blood moments after.

It’s time to fight. The odds are not in your favor, but you have to try. There is no other way. “Gale was right. I shouldn’t have come alone. But I won’t lower my arms now! You can take me, but it won’t be an easy task!” You shout, casting a call lightning and with that taking out some of the skeletons that were approaching you. 

You try to manage your spells the best as you can, but for every skeleton that you take out, the death shepherds rise tree more. But you keep fighting, trying to keep the skeletons away from you and evading the arrows that keep flying in your direction.

Suddenly, two skeletons reach you by the back and one of them hits you with his sword on your right flank, making you fall to the ground and losing the concentration on your spell. They leap on you trying to take advantage of your position, and they strike you again and again. You try to protect yourself the best as you can, but you are getting tired, and you feel the puddle of blood, your blood, growing beneath you. You need to take them off of you. A thunderwave is the solution. You cast it and the skeletons drop dead some meters away from you. 

You get on your feet with some effort, and there are more coming to you. In your anger you cast chain lightning, buying you more time. You take a healing potion from your pocket, but when you are about to drink it you stop. You look at the flask for a moment and then you put it back in your pocket. There is no point in healing. Your spell slots are almost over. You can’t fight them much longer. And you still have one special scroll to read. 

Resolved on what you must do, you give them all you have left. You’ll destroy as many skeletons as you can, providing you the time to read the scroll and make your wish, and after that your fight is done. And you can let go.

—

Astarion is hiding, crouched behind a dead tree, trying to see what lies inside the tomb ruin, while Gale is trying to confirm on his map if this is the place they're looking for.

He’s been feeling a little unsettled today. His ring has been burning his skin for quite some time now, and that can’t be a good sign. Suddenly, a gust of wind blows in their direction, and Astarion can smell a familiar scent in the air. His eyes widening in terror. “This is the place. She's here. And she's hurt.” His voice, trembling with fear.

“How do you know?” Gale asks, looking everywhere trying to figure that out.

“I can smell her blood.” With a snarl of rage, Astarion dashes through the ruin’s entrance. He doesn’t care who is inside or what is happening. He just wants to make sure that you're alive and they make it in time. 

Gale runs behind him, trying to catch him, and as soon as they enter the tomb they hear a really loud noise of ice falling from above and breaking on the floor, making the ground shake beneath their feets. “It’s her, all right. This was her doing.” Gale confirms it.

At that instant they hear you scream, a cry so raw and agonized that Astarion can feel his heart break with it. Every part of his body shivers by the fury that consumes him. He growls like a beast in response, showing his fangs with anger, and charging from where the noise came.

As the death shepherds turn around to face Astarion he's already there, leaping with his daggers in position to strike one of them. He jumps so high that when he lands, his feet are on the death shepherd's waist. He takes advantage of his proximity with its head and crosses his daggers around it, decapitating him in a swift movement, roaring in his fury.

As the lifeless body crumples at his side, Astarion takes a brief moment to survey the room, trying to find you. That’s when he spots you, in the middle of it, next to the altar, kneeling on the floor, covered in blood, holding an arrow well buried in your belly. “Astarion!” He hears you calling in a faint voice, pointing to his side.

A great sword is falling in his direction, and he dodges just in time. The blade hits the floor beside him, giving Astarion the opportunity to attack back. He pierces his daggers into the armpit of his enemy’s armor, a perfect weak spot to take some damage. 

The death shepherd tries to respond, but his armor and his long sword makes him slow for Astarion’s swift movements, so he escapes once again, swirling behind its back, like a dance, jabbing his daggers on its thigh on the other side. With this strike the undead loses the strength on its legs, falling on its knees on the floor.

“Take cover!” Gale shouts from behind. 

Astarion moves away from his foe at Gale’s warning, and a fire ball explodes right next to him, taking down the two remaining death shepherds. 

“Don’t touch that necrotic cloud! It will kill you!” Gale shouts to Astarion as he's preparing to run to you.

“It was a trap… I triggered it.” You manage to say from afar.

“There must be some kind of mechanism to disarm it. Try to find it. I’ll handle the skeletons.” And with that Gale starts to bring the destruction to the remaining undead in the tomb.

Astarion sprints around the walls of the room, trying his best to concentrate on his task, but the smell of your blood is all around him and your heartbeat is fading. And the ring! The ring is getting hotter and hotter. Hells! Why can’t I find anything?! 

He doesn’t care how Gale is fairing with your foes, Astarion is focused on finding a way to get to you. Only that matters now.

By the second time he passes through the door he finds it, a small metallic device, near the floor. “That must be it.” He crouches and starts to disarm it, but he fails. His hands are shaking, making it a difficult task to hold the disarming tool. He tries again, and again he fails. “Shit! I can’t do it! I can’t control my fucking hands!” He snarls in frustration.

“You can. You have to. She 's there. And she needs help.” Gale reaches Astarion after killing the rest of the skeletons in the room. His face is grave.

Astarion looks at you again, and you smile at him. A brief small smile tugging in the corner of your mouth. She's bleeding to death, and yet she's smiling at me. Pull yourself together Astarion! She needs you. With that thought he turns to the trap again, takes a deep breath and tries once again to disarm it. And finally, his dexterous fingers destroy the trap, and the necrotic aura around the room vanishes.

In that moment Astarion flies to you, but freezes in the same instant. Panic courses through his body. You're holding the scroll, opened. “My dear, what are you doing?”

“I’m giving you what no one else could.” Your voice, barely audible.

“Darling, put that aside, will you? We can discuss this later… you’re weak, you need attention. Let's heal you first, hum?” He slowly walks to you, step by step, trying desperately to control his fear.

“You will never let me, Astarion. You made that clear.” You cough up blood, a pained whimper escaping your lips.

The puddle of blood is growing beneath you, and Astarion feels your heart weakening by the minute. “I know… I’m sorry, my love. I’m a prick. I should have listened to you… I want it, you know I do. I just don’t want you to risk your life for it. It isn't worth it.”

“But you are wrong. You are worth everything. I love you, Astarion.” You give him the biggest tender smile that he remembers. Your hands raise the scroll, firmly, to the level of your eyes.

“No, no, Darling! Please… Listen!” He pleads, reaching the first step of the altar.

“I wish…” And you whisper your wish to the scroll.

“FUCK!! Stop it! Don’t say another word! Please, Love…” Astarion screams in anguish. 

But it’s too late. The spell is done. As you speak the last word, an aura of bright magic envelops your body, throwing your arms behind you, and you tilt your head upwards, with your mouth open. The spell is consuming you.

At the same time the ring is burning like hells in Astarion’s finger and he urgently wants to take it off. But he can’t. It's stuck. He's fighting to manage his pain and he's fighting to reach you, but none of that seems to be working. The magic aura is too strong, he can't approach you and the pain is too unbearable, clouding his thoughts.

But as soon as it happened, it soon ended. The aura vanishes, and Astarion hears you taking a deep sigh, before falling to the ground, unconscious. In that moment, the burning on his finger is gone, and the ring is as cold as if it had never been hot, but he feels a little vibration on it, very subtle, but present. 

“Gods…” Gale gasps from behind, stuck to the floor, not knowing what to do.

For a moment there was only silence. Astarion crawls to you in despair, when he feels something. A deep sting in his heart. He holds his chest, and afterwards comes the pain, an incapacitating pain. He curls up on the floor, screaming. All his body is hurting. So much pain… What’s happening to me?! 

He spasms his legs, then his arms. His eyes, burning, he can’t see a thing. All is blur around him. And he coughs again and again, because his lungs need the air that was missing. And his body keeps convulsing. Because his heart needs to pump all the blood that was lacking. 

Two hundred years of an undead body returning to life. 

Gale leans to him, worried but fascinated at the same time. “Astarion! She did it! It’s happening!”

By the Hells! I know it’s happening! I can feel it! 

He screams in agony for a long time until his body is ready to be reborn. 

When the pain stops he stays on the floor sensing the numbness of what had happened. He feels the need of breathing well present in him and he almost choke, like he doesn’t know how to breathe anymore.

By his side is Gale, gazing at him, like he's a miracle to behold. “I can’t believe what my eyes are seeing…” He reaches a hand to Astarion, slowly, but he snaps it away sharply.

“Don’t touch me!” He manages to speak. Seconds after Astarion gets startled by a deep beating in his chest. His heart, his own heart is beating again. Never he thought how he missed the feeling of his beating heart. That steady drum inside his chest, pumping life. But… and yours? Where is that familiar sound he's so used to? He can’t hear your heart any longer. 

Panicking, he crawls to you again, clumsy, still feeling the numbness on his body. When he reaches you he sits by your side, and he runs your wounds with his hands trying to stop the bleeding. “Darling, please, wake up. Open your eyes! You did it! I’m here.” He begs, but you stay lifelessly on the floor. 

Astarion feels Gale’s presence behind him and growls: “Do something! Do your spells! Heal her!”

“I think she's far beyond that, Astarion… She needs another kind of healing. Her wounds are too deep, and she lost a lot of blood. I don’t have the means to treat her.”

“I don’t care! Do it!” He commands, once again.

Gale does what he's told and he casts a healing spell on you. But Astarion still can’t hear anything, no beating, nothing. 

He holds your head, and gently places it on his lap. With his trembling fingers he removes a bloodied strain of hair from your face, and admires how beautiful you are. So peaceful in your rest… Tears starting to fall. All the tears retained for days, fighting to get out at the same time. “My sweet… don’t leave me. Don’t go where I can’t follow.” He begs you, sobbing. “We still have so much to live. I can’t… I can’t… I need you…” 

Astarion rests his forehead on yours, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs. His tears, running down through your face, mingling with your blood. “She’s dead… My love is no more.”

I'm sorry 😭

Thank you so much for reading my story. Likes, reblogs and comments are very welcomed!

Love you all! 🖤

[hughungrybear]

Lyrical essay in the On1y One series

The cicadas in that summer were more noisy than in any other year. The lush branches outside the classroom windows couldn't block the sunshine. The breeze blew through the treetops, and the sun shined brightly. They were so young.

from Episode 1: "He's NOT my brother"

He is like a tree, without happiness or sadness. A part of his body will be sleeping in the earth peacefully; a part will be dancing with the wind joyfully; a part will be providing green shade willingly; and a part will be bathing in the sunshine warmly. So quiet and so proud will he be that he won't have to depend on anyone, or search for anything. (Tian's note: Lyrical essays set the mood without being explicit, like placing an arm around his shoulder to subtly show I've already got him on my side.)

from Episode 2: "Getting close is just lips touching"

Deep into the night, all is silent. I don't know which cicada it is, but it suddenly lets out a long cry. Even though it's late summer, I feel a flutter like it's early spring.

from Episode 4: "The glamorous end of the century"

A young man's heart is unpredictable as June weather, heavy rain pouring and clouds overhead, feeling like it will never end. But when the rain stops, it's all bright again with the sun hanging up high.

From Episode 5: "Closed, as the wind rises..."

The gods take away people's fears. Young men's love is intense and passionate. At that moment, the sunset bathed the winding Tamsui River. Stained-glass windows were outlines in a golden hue, and the feather on the clasp had a glowing edge. Time, like this blessing, feels gentle and everlasting.

From Episode 7: "Belonging. Let's live in the dorm together"

A young man's heartbeat is a midsummer wasteland. It's endless and untamed. When the wind blows, the wild grass stretches out to the horizon.

From Episode 11: "Kissing is just two lips touching?"

Grief is boundless as the setting sun. Eastward I go, where wild winds run. Fallen blossoms turn to mud, nurturing spring's new buds.

From Episode 12: "Sprout. The growing pains of starting over"

Bonus not part of the lyrical writing (usually quoted from Wang, either at the beginning or end of the ep):

There are about seven billion people on Earth, if each person's average lifespan is 80 years, you may encounter 1,000 people per day, and you will meet about 292 million people all your life. The probability of two people meeting is 0.00417. If you like him, and he also likes you, you're the only one for each other. That probability is only 0.0000173...

(Tian on the mathematics of finding The On1y One)

In everyone's life, there will be the very moment, a special one on which your mind lingers. That's the most important memory in your life. Every time you think of it, you will have a special feeling in your heart.

(Wang on memories and special moments)

from Episode 1: "He's NOT my brother"

At that moment, I completely forgot what the English teacher had said about the difference between "up to you" and "down to you". It wasn't until later that I realised when Jiang Tian said those words, my world was already upside down. My world was turned upside down.

from Episode 3: "Actually, we can give it a try"

Venus and Mars are in a 180-degree opposition, creating a powerful and intense attraction. The impossible can be possible. A twist, and it's the glamorous end of the century.

from Episode 4: "The glamorous end of the century"

If there's only one person in the world who can understand you, he is the most important. I just know there's a time for everything. I should go a little wild while I'm young. After all, I'll have decades ahead to play it safe. What's the rush?

From Episode 6: "When will the schedule start?"

Isn't there a saying that when you can drop the pretense and comfortably share both troubles and joys, you'll become friends?

(Tian's thought while looking at Wang)

When I feel abandoned by the world and think nothing I do will make a difference, I forget that someone with no place to call home is still trying so hard for me and giving his all to protect me.

(Wang's thought on Tian while the latter is frantically looking for him)

From Episode 7: "Belonging. Let's live in the dorm together"

A girl's shyness is like a tender cherry under the sunlight...16- and 17-year-olds are like fruits in the morning sun, sparkling.

(Passages read by Wang from the Guide to Lyrical Writing)

It's like something straight out of the Guide to Lyrical Writing. All 16- and 17-year-olds are shining.

(Tian reminiscing as he finally empties his suitcase)

From Episode 8: "16- and 17-year-olds are shining"

The book says that 16- and 17-year-olds are shining. As summer wanes, some cicadas never escape the earth, trapped the whole season. Meanwhile, someone is stuck at midsummer's end, waiting for his one and only.

From Episode 9: "Exposing youth fearlessly"

It's precisely these movements and advancements that broke down walls. And because of these so-called boundaries, we get the chance to enter each other's worlds and understand one another. So, do you think I'm invading your world now, or are you invading mine?

From Episode 10: "Thief. Who is about to cross the line?"

[boxofbonesfic]

Drabble idea: your next door neighbour is reclusive and you rarely see him but you do notice the strange noises you hear during the full moon and the women who enter his apartment and don't come out.

(Werewolf! Curtis Everett)

Title: Moonsign

Pairing: Werewolf!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: You pick the wrong night to return your neighbor’s mis-delivered mail.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Violence, Monsterfucking-adjacent, Violence, Werewolf AU

A/N: so i fell in love with this prompt—

You pause, your fist half a centimeter from the door as a sharp howl splits the air. Maybe he has a dog. You’ve never actually seen your reclusive neighbor out with one around the block, but working nights has left you decidedly out of the loop on neighborhood events. The block’s been a ghost town lately anyway, what with over half the buildings covered in red and yellow tape signaling that they would soon be torn down or repurposed into housing neither you nor your roommates would be able to afford.

The pile in your hands consists of fifteen letters plus a small package you’d opened by mistake—a dried bundle of beautiful purple flowers you’d had to look at the card inside to identify as decorative monkshood. Behind the house, the sun is setting bright orange and red, casting the dreary porch in shadow. I’m overthinking this.

You knock.

The door creaks open, and you stand, stunned in the doorway with your arm still raised as you stare into the dim hallway beyond.

“H-hello?” You croak, your throat suddenly tight. You drop your arm. “Mr. Everett?” There’s no response, at least not one you can hear from the porch. The sound of cicadas grows in your ears as you shift nervously from foot to foot. I’ll just.. leave it inside. On a table or something.

“I’m, um, I’m coming in,” you follow the statement with a timid step across the threshold. “I’ve just um, I’ve got some mail of yours, I think it was delivered by mistake.” The rug muffles the sound of your footsteps as you shuffle toward the warm yellow light at the end of the hall. It’s a kitchen—and it’s empty.

You set the mail down on the small table. “Sorry I opened one by mistake,” you call, before shaking your head. “What am I doing,” you mutter, pinching the bridge of your nose. “There’s nobody even home.” That’s fine, all the better. You don’t want to have to face your neighbor after opening his mail. As you turn to head back outside, your foot catches against the leg of a chair pulled back from the table. You stumble, letting out a loud curse.

“Goddammit—” It’s only just out of your lips before you freeze, your stomach tightening. Your cry of pain seems mirrored somehow, like an echo—

Like you’re not alone in this house.

You go to speak, but find your mouth dry, and throat tight as you cup your hands around your mouth.

“Hello?” It comes out as a croak. “I’m sorry for intruding, the door was open and—” You tremble as the answering animal bellow cuts your nervous excuse in half, the unsaid words hanging unspoken in the air in front of your trembling mouth.

Is he hurt or something?

“Mr. Everett?”

For a moment, the house is so silent you can hear the traffic outside, and then the same agonized wail reverberates up through the floorboards, setting your heart racing. You clamp a hand over your mouth to silence the terrified whimper that threatens to escape. It sounds again and again until you realize it isn’t just an anguished, pained yell— someone is speaking to you.

“—lp me,” the words are barely discernible, like the one speaking them can barely manage. “Help me…”

There is another door in the kitchen, one that doesn’t lead back out into the rest of the small house. It, like the front door, opens easily with little effort. The heavy door swings open on silent hinges, exposing a set of dimly lit cement stairs winding down into the dark basement.

“Mr. Everett are you—are you down here?” Your reluctant voice takes a long time to bounce back to your ears. “Do-do you need me to call someone? Did you fall?”

“It… hurts…”

You aren’t sure why the thought of going down those stairs fills you with a primordial sense of dread, like your body is painfully aware of something your waking mind isn’t. You hesitate, but then another anguished wail accompanied by a sick sounding crack spurs you into action. He was hurt down there, and your waffling wasn’t helping.

You shine your phone light on the stairs as you descend, each step dragging icy fingers slowly down your spine. You swallow thickly as you reach the bottom, cool sweat prickling at your temples. The bare bulb hanging by the landing gives off comically little light, forcing you to squint, your brows furrowed as you stare into the gloom. The house upstairs, like most of the buildings on the block, was an old construction, built some time in the sixties or seventies—but this concrete was new.

And the basement… it’s bigger than you’d thought possible, the walls invisible to you either by darkness or design. The air down here is still and heavy, and you cannot will yourself to break the pregnant silence. Goosebumps rise on your skin.

A sickening crack shatters the quiet, and the pained noise that follows is louder and closer than ever before. You squeak with fear, before covering your mouth with your hands. It stinks down here, you realize, a tart, copper scent that you finally recognize as a mix of sweat and blood.

“You…came.” The words sound pleased, despite the speaker’s obvious pain. And that voice… You squeeze your arms around yourself, taking a step back towards the landing. It was like an animal growling words. It doesn’t even sound human.

Your heel bumps the concrete as you begin to back away.

“M-Mr. Everett, I’m going to g-g-go call someone f-for you—”

“I wai-ted for yo-ou,” the voice rasps, continuing on as if you haven’t spoken at all. “Call-ed fo-r yo-ou.” Something shifts in the dark—something big. There is a heavy grunt, and then the sound of metal dragging against the concrete. A whimper worms its way past your lips as slowly, the weak glow of the swaying bulb above your head reflects off of two pale blue eyes, glinting in the dark. The thing stops moving, the dragging sound suddenly ceasing.

“He thi-nks this will sto-op me,” the sound of the chain striking concrete is like the thunder outside, the spark briefly illuminating—something. You can’t comprehend it—huge and hulking, dark fur—“There is no ca-ge for me that he can bui-ld that I cannot destro-oy.”

There is a sound like metal crunching and then your legs are moving before you tell them to, scrambling up the stairs on your hands and feet like an animal as a rasping sound like laughter follows at your heels.

You’re barely through the door when you hear it on the stairs, something big coming up behind you—you bolt towards the front door, a scream erupting from your throat. You grab the door handle—

As claws tear through your overalls, splitting the skin underneath like hot knives. You fall forward with a cry against the door. It knocks the wind out of you, and you fall to your knees, your eyes blurry with tears. It’s like a wolf, you realize as it looms over you—but like a man, too, standing on thickly furred legs with an unnatural, canine bend.

Pale blue eyes sit above its dark muzzle, and they sparkle with dark amusement. You open your mouth to scream again and it lunges, burying sharp white teeth into the meat of your shoulder. You can taste your own blood, smell it in the air around you as you gurgle. Your blood gleams on its muzzle when it pulls away, dripping down onto your face as it hums.

“He will have to keep you now.” Terrified tears track down your cheeks as the bite mark on your shoulder begins to burn. “Like he wants to.”

End

[quitealotofsodapop]

Cicada Beat:

Grouping these two together because they're both similar.

One older ref for angry Tripitaka.

I love the lore of Tripitaka, the model of Buddhist virtues, allowing himself one sin by completly decking Macaque in the face the first time they meet.

Tripitaka: (*has taken a vow of non-violence*) Wukong: "Yeah my mate left me just before I found out I was carrying my Egg. It was a messy break up and I don't know how to find him." Tripitaka, feeling parental rage for the first time: "Is that so?" Macaque, shadow-portals in: "Hey-" Tripitaka:

The shadow monkey ain't even mad. He was just pleasantly surprised that Wukong had found a friend so protective of him as to break a vow of pacifism.

Guanyin had heard Tripitaka's reasoning for his lapse in judgement, and absolved the monk of sin shortly thereafter. But not before cracking their thousands of knuckles at Macaque in threat.

Then cue so many centuries later when Macaque crash lands on the airship, Map to the Samadhi Rings in hand.

Macaque, injured and brooding: "Peaches... I finally-" Tang: (*Uses Mega Punch!*) Macaque, shocked he didn't hear it coming and covering his newly formed black eye: "Ow. Ok, deja vu..." Tang: (*Uses Mega Punch x2!*) "That one's for MK!" Macaque, bruised and confused: "Huh?" Pigsy: "Way to leave him out of the loop ya bum! Now we're all mixed up in this Bone Demon business! If you had told Wukong back then what was bothering ya, you could've both prepared to take her on but noooo. You had to handle it yourself and leave with barely an explanation and not contact him the whole time. I am speechless!"

Note: Despite saying he was speechless, Pigsy continued to yell at Macaque for the next forty minutes. And that was before Wukong got involved in the yelling. Wukong only held back because he was both trying not to laugh/cry at the simialrity to how protective Master and Bajie were of him back in the Journey.

Macque is of course melted into a ashamed puddle on the deck of the airship, weakly explaining his case, but even he knows its not really possible with so many people rightfully angry with him right now. He'll have his moment to vent to another about his reasons for trying to do the mission solo soon - Sandy most likely.