#this is why i usually scan things...

[elle-p]

Dengeki Playstation Vol.359 Persona 3 parts pictures and transcription.

影時間を巡る少年たちの群像劇

前作までの世界観を踏襲しつつも、まったく新しい物語が展開するシリーズ最新作。プレイヤーは、ペルソナという力を使える主人公となって、1日と1日の狭間にある “影時間” で、そこに巣食うシャドウと戦うことになる。学校や街の人との関係がペルソナに影響を与える「コミュ」や、爽快感バツグンの戦闘など、個性的かつ魅力的なシステムが満載。

GOOD メインストーリーはもちろん、「コミュ」や会話など、それぞれのシナリオが練り込まれていて楽しい。「コミュ」を育てることでペルソナも育つので、レベル上げの作業を必要とせず、サクサク進めることができる。弱点を突いた敵に追撃できるなど、爽快感だけでなく戦略性も高い戦闘システムは秀逸。

BAD 似たようなダンジョンが続くため、新鮮味は薄い。戦闘時の仲間の思考に不満を感じることも。

現代が舞台の人気RPG。合体を奥深くする「コミュニティ」をはじめ、弱点を突くことで戦闘が有利になる「プレス攻撃」を搭載。

コミックのように効果音が文字として出たり、ポリゴンキャラが細かいしぐさを見せてくれたりと、フィールド上での演出が凝ってマス。さらに、重要なシーンでは各キャラのカットインも入って、世界観&ストーリーにぐいぐい引き込まれましたよ。戦闘はオート攻撃やチャンス時にたたみかける「総攻撃」のコマンドもあって、テンポよく進められて◎。戦闘フィールドの探索も、仲間が勝手にアイテムなどを探し回ってくれる「散開」などの指示が出せて、サクサク進められたダス。難易度も最初に選べるし、これまでシリーズ作品をプレイしたことがない人もスンナリ楽しめるのでは？

90

学園生活とダンジョン探索をいっぺんに楽しめる作品です。昼間は人間関係を築き、夜はひたすら冒険。一見昼夜の出来事は切り離されているようですが、昼間の行動がペルソナの強さに影響するなど、ちゃんと連動しているのがポイントだったりします。ダンジョンでは、どんどん探索するのも途中でひくのも自由。敵の弱点をつきながら効率よく戦うと、ごほうびとしてペルソナやアイテムがもらえるので、いわゆるザコ戦でもついつい真剣に。まったり遊びたいときにも、アニメーションのスキップつきの通常攻撃が便利。お気楽プレイが可能なイージーモードもオススメですよ。

90

「ペルソナ」「学園」というキーワードは残しつつも、完全に一新された世界観が新鮮です。昼間の学生生活で楽しめる「コミュ」の話がメインストーリー以上に気になったり、弱点を突き続けることでどんどん有利になる夜の戦闘が楽しかったりと、新しいシステムが作品全体をとおしてかみあってるのは見事。のんびりとした「学生」部分に、なんだかノスタルジーを感じずにはいられません。中盤あたりからダンジョン探索が単調に感じられたり、お約束の1発死でヘコんだりしますけど、そんな細かいことを忘れてしまうほどのめり込みました。夏休みじっくり遊ぶのに最適な1本。

95

ペルソナ育成にも関係するコミュの存在がおもしろい。限られた時間をやりくりしてコミュを開拓&育てるところは恋愛SLGのノリだし。戦闘システムはシンプルだが戦略性もある。仲間のペルソナが固定されているだけに、弱点をつかれるとザコ戦でも苦労するけどね (先制攻撃が決まればなんとかなりますが)。ボス戦前にはワープポイントがあるので「帰還してセーブし、すぐボスのフロアに戻る」ことができる点も親切。依頼という小目的があるのも○。ただ、仲間の装備手順が煩雑 (ダンジョン内で個別に話しかける必要がある) など、不親切に感じた部分も少なからずあった。

80

PERSONA NON GRATA

ペルソナ ノン グラータ

死を想え⋯！

MEMENTO MORI

次ページより

ペルソナ ノン グラータ

“歓迎されざる者”

シャドウを追い詰める生と死の12ページ攻略!！

『ペルソナ3』の真実に迫る橋野桂氏 (プロデューサー) × 副島成記氏 (アートディレクター) ロングインタビュー

Cogito, ergo sum

一我思う故に我あり一

橋野桂氏 × 副島成記氏

ロングインタビュー

『ペルソナ』ファン、RPGファンから多くの期待を集め、ついに発売の日を迎えた『ペルソナ3』。発売直後となる今回は、プロデューサー橋野氏と、キャラクターデザインの副島氏両名へのインタビューを敢行。『ペルソナ3』に散りばめられたさまざまなキーワードを紐解いていく。さらに、攻略情報となる基礎知識や、ゲーム内の5月までに判明するデータも掲載。インタビュー&攻略の2本柱で、本作の魅力に鋭く切り込む12Pをお届けしよう！

プロデューサー

橋野 桂 氏

本作のプロデューサーディレクターとして、システム、ストーリーなどを総括。スタッフの本作に対する熱い想いを見事にまとめあげた。

アートディレクター

副島 成記 氏

メインからコミュまで、��ぼすべてのキャラクターをデザイン。本作が持つマンガ調の演出にマッチした、魅力的な登場人物を誕生させた。

右で紹介している『ぺルソナ3』の生みの親、橋野氏と副島氏両名のロングインタビュー。ここでお届けする本作の成り立ちや世界観の内容に続き、次のベージからも「コミュ」「戦闘」「ペルソナ」「キャラクター」と、『ペルソナ3』の大きな軸となる要素を攻略情報とともに伝えていく。ゲームをプレイしただけでは決してわからない、さま ざまなヒミツがここで明らかになる！

■『ペルソナ』に触れたことがない人に遊んで欲しい1本

『ペルソナ』シリーズの前作にあたる『ペルソナ2罰』から6年という期間がありましたが、なぜ今、このタイミングで『3』を出されたのでしょう？

橋野桂 (以下橋野、敬称略) : 以前から作りたいとは思っていたんです。ただ、『真・女神転生Ⅲ』の直後から、さまざまなタイトルがほぼ同時に動き出して、私たちの時間が空いたことがきっかけですかね。それと、これまでどちらかというとコアなユーザー向けのタイトルが続いたので、これまで関連シリーズで遊んだことのないユーザーさんにも、手にとってもらえる可能性のあるタイトルを出したかったという理由もあります。

新しいユーザーを意識して、キャラクターデザインも副島さんにされたのでしょうか？

橋野 : 表面的にイメージをガラッと変えたいという意識はありました。ただ、それ以上に副島の絵の持つ雰囲気が、このゲームでメッセージを送りたい対象の世代にマッチするという理由のほうが強かったですね。

実際、そのような話を聞いてどう思われましたか？

副島成記 (以下副島、敬称略) : これまでのシリーズでもキャラクターデザイン (※1) もしていましたけど、正直なところを言うと相当なプレッシャーでしたね。ただ、好き勝手にやると変わりすぎるかなと思ったので、変わりすぎないギリギリのところで調整しました (笑)。

完全なアニメーションムービーもシリーズではめずらしい演出だと思うのですが。

副島 : 最初からアニメでいこうというわけではなかったんですよ。『ペルソナ』シリーズは、ほかの『女神転生』シリーズほどクールではなく、少年少女の熱いストーリーだと思うんです。そうなると、キャラクターの表情は一番見せないといけない要素になるんですね。で、何かしらのムービーが必要になったときに、手描きの絵がいいねと。

今までのシリーズに比べて、システム面で大幅な変更が見られますね。

橋野 : システムを変える変えない、ということの前に、「ペルソナ」というものはなんなのかということを考えました。それは実際に心理学で社会に適応するための能力であった���、学園を舞台にしているだけに、若者ならではの葛藤を描いたりといった、根底の部分を考えていったんです。そこをキチンと描かなければ、「ペルソナ」がただの超能力になってしまう気がしたんですね。だから、システムは気にせず、まずはテーマをしっかりと練って、そこにシステムを乗せていくという形になりました。高校生活は3年間で限られていて、だからこそ輝くのであって、卒業に意味が出てくると思うんです。まずそれを描きたかったんですね。じつは最初、ゲームの期間は3年だったんですよ (笑)。

副島 : 『ペルソナ』という以上、学園という舞台ははずせないって話し合っていたんですけど、スタッフから3年はありえない、せめて3カ月だって (笑)。

■作品にこめられた「死」というテーマ

橋野 : 今の社会、とくに若者など “生きがい” が足りていないようなことを耳にしますよね。ジュブナイルとして若者にメッセージを送るとしたら、「死」を見つめ直すことで、今生きている「生」をも見つめ直す、生きがいというのは、死にがいと同義なのかなと思ったんですね。そう考えたとき、ゲームならではの “生きがい” の体験を提供できるんじゃないかなと⋯⋯。ここはあまり詳しくは言えないのですが⋯⋯。

副島 : 今もニートの問題とか、無気力な現状がこの先もずっと続くと思っている人もいるじゃないですか。それを望んでいる部分もあったりして。そういう人たちに死を意識させられればという思いはありましたね。その生きることの区切りをゲームに組み込みたいということから、1年365日に区切られたシステムを作りました。

橋野 : そういうリアルさは追及したつもりです。例えば、街にゴミのオブジェを置いてみたり、人の話し方なんかにもこだわりましたね。このゲームでそれぞれに何かを感じてもらい、少しでも何かよい変化へのきっかけになってくれたとしたら、作った意味があるかなって思います。

■新しい『ペルソナ』ワールドを彩る設定

橋野 : 設定面でいえば、影時間は「死」というテーマを象徴する形で作られた設定ですね。それに、主人公たちがみんなに見える世界で活躍するのではなく、隠された世界で活躍するという組織としてのカッコよさもあるかなってことで作りました。

副島 : 元ネタとしては、人間の脳内時計では25時間あるらしいってところからきているんです。なんで25時間あるんだろうっていう部分を創作的に解釈して、誕生した部分もありますね。

橋野 : あとは月齢もそうですね。最近のメガテンシリーズは月があるだけってことが多かったので、しっかりシステムに組み込みたい。そこから、月をストーリーの流れにのせたスケジュールが完成しました。あともう1つは、タロットの月が持つ「迷い」という意味の象徴として演出的に使ってますね。

ロボットや犬など、主要キャラを学生だけでそろえなかった意図というのは？

橋野 : 単純に、犬を連れて歩きたい⋯⋯という願望がありました (笑)。最初は韓流キャラもいたんですけど、増えすぎてさすがにカット���ましたね (笑)。

副島 : 韓流キャラは設定もイラストも完成していたんですよ。サブキャラになることもなく、消えていったキャラですね。

橋野 : 逆にアイギスは最初から登場することが決まっていたキャラですね。というのも、ロボットだけに精神を持たないので、その部分を主人公の感情的な面と対比させたいというのがあったんです。また、本作のテーマである死への恐れがない存在として、欠かせない登場人物だったんですよ。

副島 : コンセプトよりも先に設定があったような気もしますね。なので、ストーリーやテンションもわからない段階で描き始めることになってしまって、描きにくかった記憶があります。

橋野 : はじめ、アイギスがヘリオスって機械を呼び出して、月面着陸するってイベントもあったんですけど、さすがにSFすぎるってことでカットしました。リアリティという面で悩んだんですけど、2009年には完成してないかなぁって (笑)。最初、副島は女の子ロボットというのに抵抗があったみたいなんですけど、アイギスこそがヒロインだからって説得して、なんとか。その反動で、機械むき出しのデザインになったの？

副島 : 別に反抗してそういうデザインにしたわけじゃないですよ (笑)。ただ、ハイテクな感じよりはノスタルジックなメカにしたかったんですね。まあ、半分は趣味なんですけど (笑)。

今回、ぺルソナ使いは召喚器 (※2) を使うことで、ぺルソナを召喚できますけど、アイギスやコロ丸は⋯⋯？

橋野 : アイギスは内蔵型のペルソナ召喚器なんです。コロ丸は、首輪の部分にコロ丸用の召喚器が付いています。

副島 : コロ丸はどうやって発動させているんでしょうね。首輪が絞まるとか？(笑)

橋野 : どうなんでしょうね (笑)。もともとは、覚悟を決めさせるロシアンルーレットからきているのですが。あれは自殺しているわけではないので (笑)。

作中、さまざまなところで前作のキャラらしき人物 (※3) が出てきますが、はっきりと登場させなかったのには理由があるのでしょうか？

橋野 : あまり意味がないので、はっきりとは登場させていませんね。ただ、まったく関係ないというよりも、同じシリーズとして世界のつながりを確認するうえで、彼らは彼らで大人になって生きているという設定を盛り込みたかったのです。

前作までは、スタッフのかたもゲームキャラとして登場していましたね。

橋野 : 今回は、内輪ウケになったら恐いなと思って意図的にさけました。ただ、「時価ネットたなか」は、シナリオ書いてる田中ですけど (笑)。ちなみにあの歌 (※4) の作詞は僕で、作曲がサウンドの目黒氏ですね。最初、西城秀樹の声質でって言われたんですけど (笑)。

歌といえば、今回のBGMの多くがボーカル入りですよね。

橋野 : だいぶハッチャけてますよね (笑)。今回は好きにやってくれていいって言いました。ただ、好きにやっていいぶん、テーマ的な言葉だけを与えて作曲してもらいましたね。そのテーマさえ入っているなら、今までシリーズのしがらみでできなかったこともやっていいっよって感じで作らせたら、好きなジャンルでできて楽しかったみたいです。ただ、ボーカルはバージョンが上がるたびに追加されてきて (笑)。最初ボーカルが入ってないからOKを出したのに、マスターアップの直前でボーカル入れてきたりしましたからね (※5)。

最後に、今このゲームを遊んでいるユーザー、またはこれからプレイするユーザーにひとことお願いします。

副島 : 絵に関していえば、グラフィカルな部分では挑戦的なことをやっていると思うので、最近のゲームにはない感覚で楽しんでもらえると思います。インターフェイスとか、ハッチャけたBGMとかも含め、そのあたりを注目してもらえるとうれしいですね。

橋野 : ある種、ワンパターンな型にハマったRPGに飽きた人にプレイしてほしいという想いはありますね。普通のRPGだったら1週間という流れの中で平日はカットしたと思うんです。いわゆる土日の大きなイベントが続くタイプですね。でも『ペルソナ3』は、平日の何気ない学園生活までキチッと描いている。だからこそ、土日のイベント的な部分がより楽しみになると思うんです。実験的な部分もあるとは思うんですけど、夏休みって長いなぁ (笑) とか、変にリアルな1年間を楽しんでもらえればと思います。

『ペルソナ』新章のすべてを語る⋯

PICK UP WORDS

用語解説

※1 【キャラクターデザイ ン】 副島氏は、今回以外にも過去の『女神転生』作品の多くに携わっている。前作にあたる『ペルソナ2罰』では、「トレビア～ン」という口癖が特徴の「ギャルソン副島」としてゲームに登場していた。

※2 【召喚器】 主人公たちが、ペルソナを召喚するために使う銃型のアイテム。じつは、撃つときのポーズはキャラごとに異なるこだわりよう。

※3 【シリーズキャラ】 本作の拠点となる寮のロビー。そこで見ることが可能なTVには、ファンならニヤリとできるキャラが数多く登場する。しかも、TVの内容はほぼ毎日変化するのだ。

※4 【時価ネットたなか】 ゲーム中に利用できる通販ショップ。前作までは、シナリオの里見氏をモデルにした「サトミタダシ」があり、店内に流れる脱力感あふれる歌が話題になった。

※5 【BGM】 シリーズ最高峰のセンスをほこるサントラが7月19日に発売！ゲーム内のすべての楽曲が収録されている。

※6 【女の子のコミュ (P.208)】 女の子のコミュのみ、一定以上仲よくなった段階で、ほかの女の子に話しかけると怒ってしまう。編集部内では「王道恋愛シミュレーションシステム」として、女の子���ミュは非常に丁寧に扱われている。

※7 【セリフ (P.200)】 メインキャストのみならず人気声優がそろった本作。じつはスタッフに声優に詳しい人がおらず、近所のレンタル店で大量のアニメをレンタル。そのアニメを見ながら、キャラに合った声優をチョイスしていった。

Crescit enim cum mamplitudine rerum vis inqenii

一無垢なる者の力は課される命題の大きさにより成長する一

一日の流れとタウンマップから暴く

コミュニティ

本作を大きく特徴づけている「コミュニティ(以下、コミュ)」。戦闘にも大きな影響を与える交流のシステムを、1日の流れにあわせて戻ってくる。

1日は大きく分けて、昼間のコミュと夜の戦闘という流れで進行していく。次ページのカレンダーの情報を参考に、キャラ、コミュを計画的に育成しよう。

一日の流れ

A.M.8:00

●登校

●午前

A.M.12:00

●昼休み

●午後

学校の授業では学力、魅力アップのチャンス。授業内容は定期試験にも出る。

P.M.3:00

●放課後

放課後は自由に行動が可能。校内、学園外でステータス、コミュを育てよう。

P.M.9:00

●夜

A.M.2:00

●深夜 (タルタロス)

戦闘はこの時間でしか発生しないが、戦闘せずに次の日に進むことも可能だ。

次の日へ

STATUS

主人公のステータスはコミュの発生に大きく影響

下で紹介している主人公だけのステータスは、主人公の「人」としての能力。つまり戦闘に直接影響する能力ではない。ただし、コミュの発生がこのステータスに依存していることがあるので、ぺルソナ育成のためにも欠かせない要素となる。ステータスは、主に街の各施設で上げることが可能だ。左のマップに上昇するステータスも掲載しているので参考にしてほしい。

▲ステータスは、ポイントをためることで次の段階へと成長する。

ACADEMIC

学力

成長一覧

もう少し

できなくはない

そこそこ良い

なかなか優秀

かなりの秀才

天才

学力はコミュ以外に定期試験の結果にも影響する。また街の施設以外に、夜の勉強でも上昇。

CHARM

魅力

成長一覧

これといって

磨けば光る

そこそこある

光っている

オーラが出ている

カリスマ

コミュの発生に影響。夜の自由行動が可能になれば、「シャガール辰巳店」でも上げられる。

COURAGE

勇気

成長一覧

今ひとつ

ないこともない

ここぞでは違う

頼りがいがある

胆が据わっている

漢

コミュの発生に影響。夜の自由行動が可能になれば、「��ラオケマンドラゴラ」でも上げられる。

COMMU

会話を重ねてコミュをランクアップ！

コミュは相手に話しかけて会話を重ねることで最大10ランクまでアップする。ただし、好感度が一定値までたまらないとランクは上がらない。話しかけるだけでも好感度は上がるが、会話中の選択肢でさらに稼げるので、最適な選択肢を選べば成長の度合いは大きく変化する。また、部活動なら「戦車」というように、対象となる人物ごとにペルソナとリンクした属性があることも覚えておこう。

▲レベルに応じて作成可能なペルソナの名前、スキルの閲覧も可能。

休日は学校が休みの日であります

学校が休みの日は昼間から自由に行動できる。休日だけのコミュや施設もあるので、有効に活用したいところ。街などへも移動できるが、学校および学校関係者のコミュは発生しない。ただし、休日に会う誘いを受ければ、学校関係者の好感度を稼ぐことも可能だ。

休日だけのコミュ

▶ほかに比べ会話のチャンスは少ない。

アイテム通販「時価ネットたなか」

◀ここでしか入手できない装備品、アイテムも購入可能。性能に比べ価格も安めだ。

長鳴神社

！commu 神社の女の子

会える日 : 日曜以外 (昼)

ぺルソナ属性 : 刑死者

おさいせん

毎日 (1日1回)

上昇ステータス : 学力

おさいせんの金額によって学力アップの確率が変化。できるだけ千円を選択！

おみくじ

ランダムの結果によって資金、体調が変化。

結果 大吉 中吉 小吉 凶 大凶

金額 1万円 千円 五百円 一千円 一五千円

体調 絶好調⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯疲労

巌戸台駅

ワイルダックバーガー

利用可能日 : 木曜以外 (昼)

上昇パラメータ : 勇気

！commu 古書 本の虫

利用可能日 : 日曜以外 (昼)

ペルソナ属性 : 法王

和食屋 わかつ

利用可能日 : 火曜以外 (昼)

上昇パラメータ : 学力

鍋島ラーメン はがくれ

利用可能日 : 土曜以外 (昼)

上昇パラメータ : 魅力

学生寮

カウンター

利用可能日 : 毎日

セーブポイント

！commu ネットゲーム

利用可能日 : 日 (昼)

ペルソナ属性 : 隱者

4月29日より発生可能なコミュ。休日にしか会話を進めることができない。そのほか休日に机を調べると、勉強して学力をアップさせることもできる。

SHOP 時価ネットたなか

利用可能日 : 日 (昼)

－

日曜日にしか利用できない通販ショップ。商品は次週中に届く。テレビは居間ではなく、主人公の部屋にあるものを見ること。以下は序盤手に入るリスト。

5月3日 ¥2980

斬撃見切りの書+樹液ゼリー×1

5月10日 ¥2980

ギガパワーバンド+ダイエットフード×1

5月17日 ¥5980

十徳刀+ダイエットフード×2

5月24日 ¥5980

多機能エプロン+ダイエットフード×2

5月31日 ¥3980

超健康サンダル+ダイエットフード×1

ポートアイランド駅

スクリーンショット

利用可能日 : 毎日 (昼)

上昇ステータス : 魅力、勇気

SHOP ラフレシ屋

利用可能日 : 毎日 (昼)

商品 : 花

◀花屋で購入できるアイテムは、女性キャラへの贈り物に使える。

月高館学園

！commu クラスメート

会える日 : 火、木、金

ペルソナ属性 : 魔術師

！commu 運動部

会える日 : 月、水～金

ペルソナ属性 : 戰車

SHOP 購買部

利用可能日 : 日曜以外

商品 : 消費アイテム

！commu 生徒会

会える日 : 月、水、金

ペルソナ属性 : 皇帝

保健室

利用可能日 : 休日以外

上昇パラメータ : 勇気 (疲労、風時のみ)

図書室

利用可能日 : 休日以外

上昇パラメータ : 学力

保健室ではパラメータはアップするが体調を回復させることはできない。購買部では回復アイテムとブックカバーを販売。ブックカバーはプレゼントに使用できる。

ポロニアンモール

SHOP 青ひげファーマシー

利用可能日 : 毎日 (昼、夜)

商品 : 消費アイテム

SHOP 辰巳東交番

利用可能日 : 毎日 (昼)

商品 : 武器、防具

SHOP ビー・ブルー・ヴィー

利用可能日 : 毎日 (昼)

商品 : アクセサリー

シャガール辰巳店

利用可能日 : 毎日 (昼、夜)

上昇ステータス : 魅力

ベルベットルーム

利用可能日 : 毎日 (昼、夜)

ぺルソナ合体

タルタロス以外でも使用可能。ここでの行動で時間が進むことはない。

カラオケ マンドラゴラ

利用可能日 : 金・土以外 (夜)

上昇ステータス : 勇気

ペスカレイド

利用可能日 : 毎日 (夜)

占い

ゲームセンター ゲームパニック

利用可能日 : 毎日 (昼、夜)

クレーンゲーム(店外)

特売日を活用であります

・青ひげファーマシー : 土曜日

・辰巳東交番 : 月曜日

・ビー・ブルー・ヴィー : 日曜日

TOWN's MAP

全施設&コミュキャラの場所がわかる港区完全マップ

本作の舞台、港区のマップを紹介。場所や上昇するステータス、コミュなど、利用可能な各施設の情報を詳しく掲載していく。

まずは各施設を移動してゲームシステムに慣れよう

主人公が入寮するのは始業式前日の深夜 (影時間)。ここで謎の少年との初対面となる。9日にはオープニングイベントとして、臆病のマーヤ×2との戦闘が発生。戦闘時にはすでに主人公のペルソナが使えるので、弱点を突いて倒してしまおう。戦闘後は主人公が倒れてしまうため、カレンダーのようにしばらく空白期間となる。実際にタルタロスに入るのは順平が入寮した翌日から。最初の探索はチュートリアルのようになっており、美鶴が探索の基本を教えてくれるのでしっかり聞いておくこと。この日を境にして自由にタルタロス探索が可能で、放課後や夜の行動、交番での武器・防具の購入もできるようになる。青ひげファーマシ一は夜も利用可能なので、タルタロスに行く前に準備を整えるといいだろう。

LONG INTERVIEW

ロングインタビュー

ただのサブストーリーではなくクリアするための力に直結させたい

「コミュ」というシステムはどのようにして生まれたのでしょうか？

橋野 : コミュは、『ペルソナ3』の原案からあったシステムなんです。そこで、僕たちのなかでのテーマがあって、ただメインストーリーのほかにサブストーリーがあるっていうものではなく、コミュというシステムがクリアするための力に直結できるようにと考えて制作していました。そこから、コミュを育てればペルソナが強くなり、ペルソナが強ければクリアもラクになるという形になりましたね。

副島 : 最初はコミュのストーリ―も、すごくあっさりしたものだったんですよ。でも、テストプレイでメインよりコミュのストーリーが気になるという感想が多くて、凝らないとまずいかなってことになりましたね (笑)。

「コミュ」のストーリーはなにかもとになっているものがあるのでしょうか？

橋野 : 部活動のコミュなんかは、スタッフの実体験をもとにしているものもありますね。マネージャーを希望する女子は、ほかの女子から嫌われる傾向にあるらしく、ああいった感じのストーリーになっていたり (笑)。じつはこれにもテーマがあって、できるだけありがちにしてほしいと。でもそこに、何かをあきらめる出来事、そしてそこを乗り越えて覚悟を得るという結果にしてほしいと注文しましたね。あとは、「太陽」なら最後に光を見つけるとか、「悪魔」なら誘惑があるなど、ペルソナのアルカナごとにそったストーリーになるようまとめています。

コミュのキャラと仲が悪くなるシステムも当初からあったものですか？

橋野 : そうですね。実際に、仲よくしている人がいて、ある流行とか流れで違うグループの人とずっと一緒にいることってありますよね。そのあと、仲よかった人との関係がギクシャクするってことあるじゃないですか。そういう関係みたいなものをシステムで再現したかったんですよ。僕自身の体験がよくないだけかもしれませんが (笑)。ほかの人とずっといるのに、その人がずっと時間が止まったように待たれても、それはリアルさに欠けるかなという考えもありましたね。ただ、女の子のコミユ (※6) は、あれを作ったスタッフがすごい凝っていろいろな仕組みを入れたもので、僕が想定した以上に複雑になっていますけど。あと女性コミュは、それ以外にも悩みましたね。ランクが最大まで達したときのイベントの到達点がどうしたらいいのか、と。最終的には、まぁうまくまとまったかなぁ (笑)。あと、最初女性キャラはすべてアルカナの「恋愛」だったんですよ。「恋愛1」「恋愛2」って感じで。でも、同じものを育てるくらいなら、ほかのアルカナを育てるだろうなと思いまして、まだ完成していなかったショップのコミュをカットして、ほかのアルカナに振り直したりとか、最後までこの部分についてはいじってましたね。

ちなみに、お2人のお気に入りのコミュなどありますか？

副島 : 僕は、「魔術師」のコミュの友近ですね。話はありえないけど、不思議とリアルな友人なんですよね (笑)。

橋野 : 僕は無達和尚ですね。あんな和尚も世の中にはいるのかなぁって (笑)。

Bellum se ipsum

一争いは自身を無に帰す一

タルタロスの激戦を乗り切る

戦闘知識

主人公たちの深夜の顔「シャドウ討伐隊」。ここでは、戦闘システムや敵データなど、タルタロスでの激戦を切り抜けるための基礎知識を伝授していこう。

▲「月をバックにそびえる塔」というラフスケッチからタルタロスは生まれた。

MEDIALAND

ゲームショップ・メディアランドの予約特典テレカ絵柄。特別課外活動部部長の美鶴と、凛とした主人公の組み合わせが特徴的な一枚。

全員が前線で戦うわけではない、チームとしての仲間意識

LONG INTERVIEW

ロングインタビュー

月に向かって落ちていく塔それがタルタロス

タルタロスをなぜ塔にしたのでしょうか？

副島 : タルタロスは本来「奈落」といった意味なのですが、1つには登ったほうが達成感があるという理由があります。

橋野 : 個人的には、地下迷宮を降りていくほうが好きなんですけど、今回は絵を優先させた結果塔になったんです。あとは、学園を舞台にしているので、学校をからませたいという理由もありましたね。いくら影時間とはいえ、学校が変化して地下迷宮というのもピンとこなかったので (笑)。そんな、塔にするかどうかも決まっていない段階で、副島から月にそびえる塔というラフスケッチを見せてもらって、これだって感じで進んでいきましたね。

副島 : 一応、自分のなかの設定がありまして、あのタルタロスは地面から月に向かって落ちていっているということになって います。なぜ、そういう設定かは、ゲームを進めてもらえればわかると思います。

■一方的に押し込める、ある意味リアルなバトルシステム

本作では、これまでとまた違った戦闘システムが採用されていますが？

橋野 : 当初、リアルタイムにしたいという案もありましたが、ダンジョン探索はリアルタイムでもいいけど、戦闘は今までつちかってきた得意のシステムを継承したいということで、今の仕様が生まれてきたんです。ただ、プレスシステムもある意味リアルさは盛り込んでいまして、普通ケンカで殴ったとしたら、相手から反撃されるまえに、股ったほうが追撃できるものじゃないかなって。それが、バーティ全員なら全員で押し込んでポコボコにできると (笑)。

さらに今は「作戦」というものがありますが？

橋野 : 今回の戦闘では仲間は自律した存在として描いているんです。でも、だからといって主人公が何も発言できないのはおかしいという考えから、作戦である程度の指示を出せるようにしました。ただ、この魔法を使えというところまで指示できてしまうと、仲間が完全にキャラになってしまうので、そのあたりは自律を尊重するよう注意しましたね。ただ、仲よくなればいろいろ言えるようにもなるだろうってことで、ストーリーが進むと作戦も増えるようにしています。

もう1つ「情報支援」という特殊なシステムを搭載したのはなぜでしょう？

橋野 : 刑事ものとかの映画を見ると、前線で戦う人がいて、後方で支援する人がいて、それでチームが成り立っている。全員が剣を持って突っ込んで、主人公が装備を着替えさせてというよりは、自然な関係、リアルな仲間を意識させるために、後方でサポートするというキャラが必要だろうと。これは、情報支援以外のキャラが自律しているという点にも意識させてはいますね。

通信時に小さな画面が出てきますが、あれはどういったものでしょうか？

橋野 : みんな通信機は持っているのですが、それは機械的なもので、風花の通信は非常にファンタジックな設定のものですね。みんな、風花という情報支援キャラをとおして、さまざまな情報を得る。そこで支援キャラの大切さを意識してもらえればいいんですけどね。

Search

探索

タルタロス探索をスムーズに進めるための基礎知識を解説

タルタロスでは、敵との戦闘以外にも「探索」という要素が大きなカギを握る。そのシステムを詳しく解説していこう。

▲段差を利用してアタックをかければ、安全に先制攻撃できる。

シンボ ルの意味を頭にたたき込め！

本作はエンカウント式ではなく、敵のシンボルに触れることで戦闘が開始される。シンボルは、敵の種類によって異なるものが用意されているので、まずその違いを頭に入れておこう。また、タルタロスには敵以外にもさまざまなシンボルが存在する。そのすべてをここで紹介しよう。ちなみに、1度タルタロス内部に入ると、エントランスに戻らない限り、下の階へ戻ることができない。ターミナルに関係しているこの基本ルールも忘れないように。

“死神”はダメであります

タルタロスで最強の敵ともいえる死神。序盤で手を出すのは自殺行為なので、出現したらすぐに逃げること。同じ階層で戦い続けていると出現しやすいので、あまり長く同じ階層でウロウロしないようにすること。

▲戦闘後のカード選択でドクロマークを選ぶと出現することも。

■タルタロスの移動

相互通行

エントランスから直接移動できるターミナル。

一方通行

エントランスへの一方通行となるターミナル。

1Fエントランス

セーブポイント

タルタロス唯一のセーブポイント。塔内部ではセーブできないので、探索前、帰還時など、マメにセーブをするように心がけよう。

ベルベットルーム

ペルソナの合体や工リザベスの依頼を受けることができる部屋。依頼は1度に3つしか受けることができないので、達成したらすぐにエリザベスに報告するクセをつけておこう。

宝箱の種類

宝箱には見た目の異なる2種類のシンボルが存在。階層が上がるごとに中身は豪���になっていく。取り逃さないように！

通常の宝箱。装備品や回復薬などの消費アイテム、お金が入っている。

レアアイテムの宝箱。この箱からしか入手できない装備品もある。

敵の種類

敵のシンボルは全部で5種類。この違いは、主に依頼達成のために覚えておきたいところ。

通常の敵シンボル。敵の数によって大きさが変わるが色に変化はない。

通常に比べ強力なタイプの敵はこのシンボルになるが、動きは同じ。

いわゆるレア敵。見つかると猛スピードで逃げ、すぐに消滅してしまう。

レベル差があるため動揺している敵。見つかると逃げ出してしまう。

死神タイプの敵。超絶的な戦闘能力を有する。出現したら逃げあるのみ。

背後から狙い先制攻撃を目指せ

本作では、敵に気づかれずに「アタック」することで先制をとることができる。先制をとれば、行動が一巡するまで敵は動けないため、かなり有利に戦闘を進められる。ここでは、主人公が装備している武器によって異なる、アタックの特徴を解説していこう。

◀▼当然ながら、敵からアタックを受ければ、敵の先制攻撃になる。

武器の特性

片手剣 リーチ : ★★ スピード : ★★

リーチ、スピードともに平均点だが、最もバンスがよく扱いやすい。空振りしてしまったときのスキは大きいものの、リーチさえ覚えてしまえば安定性は高い。敵が向かってきたときのことも考えて、武器を出す速さも把握しておこう。

拳 リーチ : ★ スピード : ★★★

拳の特徴は、武器を出すスピードの速さ。そのスピードは全武器のなかでも最速でスキは小さい。ただし、リーチは一番短く、敵にかなり近づく必要がある。レベルが高い敵ほど反応が早いので、高レベルの敵がいるエリアでは不利になる。

両手剣 リーチ : ★★ スピード : ★

武器を出すスピードという点では、ほかの武器に劣る両手剣。しかし、そのリーチの長さはスピードの遅さを補って余りある魅力といえる。敵の背後にさえ回ることができれば、高い確率で先制攻撃のチャンスを得ることが可能だ。

弓 リーチ : ★★★ スピード : ★

リーチの長さでいえば、全武器中最長を誇る弓。敵の視界外からアタックすることも可能なのは大きなポイントだ。ただし、矢の軌道が見えなかったり、アタック後の硬直時間が長かったりと、正確に敵を狙うにはかなりの慣れが必要。

レア敵はこの武器がオススメであります！

反応が敏感で素早いレア敵は、とらえにくい敵。ただし、背後から接近すれば、そう簡単には気づかれない。そこで真後ろから近づき、アタックの出も早めでリーチもある片手剣でアタックするのがオススメ。真後ろから少しズレるだけでも気づかれるので注意。

◀敵の視界外から弓で狙う手もあるが、難易度は高め。

中間試験終了後はついに真田がパーティに加入

連休があるため、コミュのランクやステータスアップに最適。ただし、中間試験前にはゆかりがタルタロスに行かないと言い出すので、学生生活にばかり気を取られず、たまに探索もしておくこと。試験前にタルタロスに行く場合、主人公と順平の2人パーティになるのでできれば避けておきたい。試験期間は試験シーンのみで1日が進み、最終日には真田がパーティ

Battle

戦闘

敵の弱点を突き無傷で進むためのバトルテクニックを紹介!！

シンボル、アタックをマスターできれば、いよいよ戦闘へ！弱点を突くことで一気にたたみ込めるシステムから敵データまで、この情報で戦闘を極めろ！

▲動揺状態の敵なら、クリティカルも出やすい。

1moreからボコスカまでの完全チャート

本作の戦闘では、敵の弱点やクリティカルを突くことで敵がダウンし、もう1度行動できる「1moreプレス」が発生する。これを使うことで、敵に行動する機会を与えることなく勝利できるので、積極的に狙っていきたい。さらに、出現している敵すべてをダウンさせれば味方全員による総攻撃「ボコスカプレス」が発生。左ではその特徴を解説！

■BATTLE CHART

▲ダウンさせたうえにもう1度行動できるのは大きい。

支援キャラの情報をもとに敵の弱点を突くことは、本作の戦闘では必須ともいえる。弱点を突けば敵は行動不能なダウン状態に。ダウンは敵の行動順がくると回復されるが、それ以外の行動はできない。

弱点を突く！

全体攻撃をはずすと「1more」はなし！

「1more」は、弱点攻擊を当てることで発生する。ただし、弱点の全体攻撃であっても1体でも攻撃をはずすと発生しない。

▲魔法攻撃であっても回避されることはある。

ダウン状態の敵への攻撃は必中となる。ただし、ダウン状態の敵を攻撃すると、それが弱点攻撃であってもダウンが回復されてしまう。確実にトドメを刺せるとき以外は、ほかの敵を攻撃するように。

Down！

通常攻撃でもダウンのチャンスあり！

ダウンは基本的に弱点への攻撃だが、例外として通常攻撃のクリティカルでも発生させることが可能だ。弱点攻撃がない場合に狙え。

▲攻撃に属性はなく、どの敵へもダメージを与える。

出現しているすべての敵をダウンさせれば、全員攻撃である「ボコスカプレス」が発生。これは、行動順に関係なく行える攻撃なうえ、必ず当たるという特典つき。参加する人数でダメージが変化する。

ボコスカ!！

「ポコスカ」の攻撃力は？

非常に強力な攻撃だが、ダウンしている仲間は攻撃に参加できない。また、主人公がダウンしていると、この攻撃自体が行えない。

JIN

ジン

タカヤにつき添う関西弁の男性。 ストレガの情報収集や分析役として暗躍する。

TAKAYA

タカヤ

ネット上のサイトで、復讐代行を請け負う謎の集団「ストレガ」のリーダー���

作戦を使いこなし、より有利に戦いを進めろ！

「作戦」は、自律して行動する仲間をある程度制御するためのシステム。下に5月までに使える作戦の一覧を掲載するので、それぞれの特徴をつかんでほしい。作戦は主人公の行動順でしか変更できないので、ときには意図どおりにいかないこともある。そこで、通常攻撃のオート戦闘となる△ボタンの「ラッシュ」を使い仲間をコントロールしよう。

▲無駄にHPやSPを消費しそうなときは、とっさに△ボタンを押して通常攻撃に。

「システム」も活用するです！

▶システムのコンフィグから変更が可能だ。

戦闘開始時の作戦は「自由に戦え」になっている。多用する作戦が別のものなら、システムで作戦を変更することも可能だ。もっと も、弱点を突いた攻撃、通常攻撃、回復、補助とバランスよく行う「自由に戦え」は、優秀な作戦としてオススメできる。初期状態はこの作戦のままで、敵の種類にあわせてコマメに変更したほうが安定して戦えるだろう。

■5月までに習得可能な作戦一覧

戦闘時 探索時

作戦名 内容

自由に戦え 弱点がわかっていれば弱点攻撃を、仲間のHPが減っていれば回復をと、バランスよく行動する作戦。

回復、補助に徹しろ 少しでもHPが減っていれば、回復行動を優先して行う。全員のHPが全快で、ステータス異常もなければ攻撃を行う。

SPを温存しろ SPを消費するスキルを使わなくさせる作戦。ただし、HPを消費するスキルの使用を抑えることはできない。

ターゲットを指示 攻撃するターゲットを指定できる。ターゲットの固定以外は「自由に戦え」と同じ思考で行動する。

待機しろ 攻撃、回復などを一切行わせない作戦。主人公でトドメを刺したい場合やアナライズを優先させたい場合などに使おう。

散会しろ 仲間をバラバラに行動させて、宝箱の回収や上の階層への階段を探させるといった行動をとらせることができる。

敵討伐を優先しろ 仲間をバラバラに行動させて、個別に敵と戦わせることができる。個別に行動すれば1人当たりの入手経験値も上昇。

作戦を得ることが、勝利への近道！

5月までは美鶴が務めることになる情報支援キャラ。これは一緒に行動する戦闘キャラとは別に存在するもので、タルタロスの状況を解説したり、敵の情報を解析したりするのが主な仕事となる。なかでも重要なのが敵の弱点などがわかる「アナライズ」。新しい敵に出会ったら、まずはアナライズを行おう。

▲アナライズはL1ボタンでショートカットできる。

▲仲間がはぐれたら、「救援要請」で呼び戻そう。

弱点がわかっていても調べるであります

▲仲間は支援の情報をもとに行動している。

戦闘を重ねると、敵の種類や偶然で、アナライズする前に弱点がわかることもある。しかし、そこでアナライズをしないと、仲間には弱点が伝わらないままになってしまう。調べる前に弱点がわかったとしても、アナライズは必ず行おう。

CHIDORI

チドリ

その行動、目的などが謎に包まれた集団ストレガの紅一点。その能力とは一体⋯⋯!？

■タルタロス25階までの敵データ

タルタロス25Fまでに出現するボス以外の敵を、階層順、レベル順に羅列。ただし、赤いシンボルと金色のシンボルのレア敵は、各階層の最後に色分けして表示している。敵の名前が赤色のものは赤いシンボルの敵、オレンジのものは金色のシンボルの敵を表す。

カードはどれを狙うのがオススメ？

最後の敵を倒したときの攻撃に主人公がからんでいると発生する「シャッフルタイム」では、カードの中から1枚を引ける。このカードからは、お金や武器、ペルソナなど得られるものは多い。なかでも経験値がアップする「ワンド」は効率よく探索を進めるためにも、優先して狙いたいカードだ。また、武器よりもお金を選んだほうがお得。

[オラクルカード一覧]

ぺルソナ

合体の素材としてはもちろん、そのまま戦闘にも使える。主人公よりレベルが高いと入手不可。

カップ

HPが回復するカード。主人公のHPの減り具合によって、主人公のみか仲間全員かで対象が変化。

ワンド

その戦闘で入手した経験値が割り増しされる力ード。数字しだいで倍以上になることもある。

ソード

武器の装備品を入手できる。数字が大きいほど効果の高い武器になるが、店売りと同じもののみ。

コイン

お金を入手できるカード。金額はランダムだが、 数字が大きいほど高額になっていく。

ブランク

ダブルアップ時に出現されるカード。このカードを選ぶと、すでに得たカードが失われてしまう。

Animae dimidium meae

一魂の半身一

自らの分身⋯

ペルソナを極める！

戦闘において主人公たちの大きな力となるペルソナ。序盤で使える仲間たちの特徴、スキルなどぺルソナに関する情報を解説。もう1人の自分を極めるコツがここにある！

MESSE SANOH

ゲームショップ・メッセサンオーの予約特典テレカ絵柄。これはシャドウか？ペルソナなのか？主人公はいったい何に魅入られているのだろうか？シナリオにからむ重要な存在と主人公が対面している激レアな絵だ。

ペルソナの力が主人公の力になる

本作では、主人公の戦闘における能力はペルソナのステータスに依存している。レベルアップで上昇するのはHP、SPのみなので覚えておいてほしい。また、特定の組み合わせのペルソナを持ち合わせることで「ミックスレイド」という特殊スキルを覚える。序盤で覚えることができる組み合わせを掲載するので、有効活用してほしい。

▲主人公の能力は純粋にペルソナに依存。より強いペルソナが必須に！

序盤で使えるミックスレイド

カデンツァ

オルフェウス+アプサラス

効果 : 味方全員のHPが50%回復+味方全員の回避率上昇

ジャックブラザーズ

ジャックフロスト+ジャックランタン

効果 : 敵全体を中確率でダウンさせ�� (ダメージはなし)

ジャスティス！

エンジェル+アークエンジェル

効果 : 敵全体に光属性で現在HPの50%ダメージ

▲消費SPは大きめなものの、効果は絶大。とくに「カデンツァ」はボス戦で役立つ。

インセンスカードでさらにパワーアップです

キングやクイーンの名前がついたアイテム「インセンスカード」を使えば、ぺルソナのステータスを増強させることができる。お気に入りや有効なスキルを覚えたぺルソナができれば、レベルにかかわらずこれで一線級に強化することも可能だ。また、この強化した能力は合体しても引き継がれる。

▲▶低レベルのピクシーでも、強化することで高ステータスのぺルソナに！

仲間の特徴も覚えるべし

前ページでも述べたように、本作では仲間が自律して行動する。それだけに、仲間の持つスキル、弱点、行動のクセを把握することは重要といえるだろう。そこで、ここでは序盤で一緒に行動する3人の仲間の特徴を掲載。これを参考に、仲間が持つ戦闘のパターンをつかんでおこう。

▼仲間のスキルを把握することで、指示する作戦もより効果的なものを選択できるようになる。

あなたが弱点を補うであります

連れ歩ける仲間は主人公を除いて3人。次のスキルページでも説明しているように、基本的な属性攻撃だけでも4種類あり、仲間だけでは補完できない。そこで、ぺルソナを自由に付け替えられる主人公に、仲間が持っていないスキルを埋める役割をさせる。属性を幅広くカバーし、どんな弱点も突けるようにしよう。

▶スキル継承を使い1体で複数の属性を覚えさせたい。

TAKEBA YUKARI

岳羽ゆかり

スリップなしの貫通攻撃

ゆかりが使う弓は、命中率こそ多少劣るものの、はずしてもスリップすることがない。SPが少なければ通常攻撃させるのも手だ。

イオ

パーティの生命線

風属性の魔法と回復系スキルを使いこなすイオ。攻撃よりも回復担当としての役割を主眼においた戦い方をさせていきたい。

■耐性 風

■弱点 雷

■序盤に覚えるスキル ディア パトラ ガル

◀ボスや強敵なら回復に徹しよう。

IORI JUNPEI

伊織順平

攻撃力は大きいけれど⋯⋯

順平が使う両手剣は攻撃力が大きいぶん、命中力に不安が残る武器。ぺルソナが育って速度が育つまでは、スキル中心で戦おう。

ヘルメス

回復のサポートは必須

ヘルメスは直接攻撃を好むタイプのペルソナ。物理攻撃のスキルはHPを消費するため、ゆかりやここせよう。明彦などの回復でフォローしよう。

■耐性 火

■弱点 風

■序盤に覚えるスキル スラッシュ アギ リパトラ スクカジャ

◀攻撃力という長所を伸ばしたい。

SANADA AKΙΗΙΚΟ

真田明彦

高いコンボ率に期待

拳の武器は高い���中率とコンボ発生率が強み。攻撃力は低めなものの、コンボが出やすいため総攻撃力でほかの武器との差は少ない。

ポリデュークス

攻守に優れたバランス型

物理攻擊、魔法攻撃、回復にサポートとバランスよくスキルを覚える。主人公とあわせて、ほかの2人を補助する形で活躍させよう。

■耐性 雷

■弱点 氷

■序盤に覚えるスキル ソニックパンチ ディア ジオ

◀自由に戦わせるのがオススメ。

巷で噂の！

エリザベスセクシーふわふわスキル講座

みなさん、タルタロス探索のほうは順調でございましょうか？今回は、私が特別に探索には欠かせないスキルをご教授させていただこうと思います。

1時限目攻撃方法の活用を覚えましょう

まずみなさんに覚えていただきたいのは攻撃魔法の属性。敵の多くは、この6属性のうちどれかを弱点として持っていますので、名前と属性の関係をしっかり頭にたたき込んでもらえると助かります。また、魔法は強化→最強と進化するにつれ、その攻撃力も上がっていきます。ただ、弱点を突くことが重要ですので、威力の高さよりも複数の属性を所持することを優先させたほうがよろしいでしょう。

基本形 強化形 最強形

アギ(火炎) アギラオ アギダイン

ブフ(氷結) ブフーラ ブフダイン

ガル(疾風) ガルーラ ガルダイン

ジオ(電撃) ジオンガ ジオダイン

ハマ(光) ハマオン

ムド(闇) ムドオン

全体には「マハ」をつけましょう

▼序盤は敵が1種類なので全体が有効。

上の魔法名の頭にマハをつけると、範囲が全体に変わります。どちらがいいかは一長一短といったところですが、基本的に3体以上に攻撃するなら、マハ〜のほうが消費SPの面でお得でございます。敵の数で使い分けましょう。

CHECK

その他のスキル

～カジャ

味方の能力アップはこの系統です

味方の各ステータスを上げるのが、カジャ系の魔法です。武器の命中率が低めなので、スクカジャが重宝しそうですね。また、デカジャはカジャ系の効果を消滅させる効果がございます。

▲有効な攻撃手段がないときにお使いください。

～ンダ

敵の能力ダウンはこちらになります

カジャ系とは逆に、敵のステータスを下げるのがこちらのンダ系の魔法です。回避率の高い敵にスクンダを、攻撃力の大きい敵にタルンダをというように活用すれば攻守に渡って役立つでしょう。

▲敵の突出した能力を抑えるときに使いましょう。

オート

使用の必要がない自動発動スキルです

こちらは、わざわざ使用せずとも自動で発動するという特殊な系統でございます。たとえば、タルカジャオートなら、タルカジャの効果がある状態で戦闘が開始されるというものです。

▲オートで発動するので、SP消費もありません。

LONG INTERVIEW

ロングインタビュー

個人と他者との距離感、つながりをぺルソナのシステムに反映

今回主人公以外のペルソナが固定なのは？

橋野 : 今回は主人公の力が世界を変えるという話で、タロットが象徴する愚者、つまりゼロの状態から出発して主人公が成長していくという軸を最初に引いたんですね。そこで、主人公は特別扱いしたかったのが理由の1つです。あとは、夜一緒に仲間と戦うなら、昼間はそれぞれがバラバラに行動するという仕組みを作りたかったんですね。バーティのありかた、仲間の自律をゲームシステムで表現したかったわけです。そうしたとき、装備からぺルソナからすべて主人公が面倒を見るのは違うんじゃないかなって思ったんですね。もちろん、仲間のペルソナを付け替えたいって人もいるとは思いますけど、思い切って主人公だけにしました。

今回『女神転生』でも初となる4～6身合体を入れようと思った理由は？

橋野 : 今までと違うようで、じつは組み合わせの決められた合体という仕組みで、複雑なものにはしたくなかったんですよ。それと、『ぺルソナ』もそうですけど、『DDS』など合体から離れている部分があって、自分のなかでフラストレーションがたまっていたんですね。そういうこともあって、今回は合体もちゃんとやってますってことをユーザーさんに伝えたいと思い、4～6体の合体を入れたんです。ただ合体を増やすだけでなく、そこにコミュによるボーナス経験値が加算されることで、いわゆる経験値稼ぎが不必要になって、テンポもよくなるかなという狙いもありましたね。といっても、スキルの継承などを深くやり込んでいこうって考え出す人には、いくらでもやり込める要素は用意されていると思います。『Ⅲ』で好評だった、「悪魔 (ペ���ソナ) 全書」もきちんと用意してありますからね。

今回ぺルソナは何体くらいいるのですか？

橋野 : 『真・女神転生Ⅲ』のときより多くしたかったのですが、3Dのモデルで悪魔を作ると、じつは1体あたりにかかる時間も費用も相当なものに⋯⋯。今回はシャドウとペルソナも別個に作っているので、さらに大変で。そこは今までの財産を生かしながら、今回150体近いペルソナを用意できましたね。逆にそれくらいの数を用意しなければ、今作の合体システムが充分楽しめないだろうなと思いました。

Amor caecus

一愛は盲目一

愛すべき『ペルソナ3』の登場人物たち⋯より世界に浸るための

キャラクター特集

さまざまなドラマを魅せ、プレイヤーをひきつけるキャラクターたち。そんなキャラクターたちを盛り上げる「電撃コミュ」が本格始動！さらに今回は、『ペルソナ3』スタッフお気に入りのコミュや幻のコミュなど、本格始動にふさわしい豪華な内容でお送りしていく。

こんなコミュに反応が！

電撃コミュニティ

DENGEKI COMMU

「電撃コミュ」から拡がる『ペルソナ3』の輪！早くもメッセージを紹介！

キャラクターの魅力満載の本作。その魅力を多くの人に伝えるためのオリジナルコミュニティ、それが「電撃コミュ」だ！ソフトも発売され、好きなキャラや、コミュを発生させたいキャラなど、キャラに対する愛情があふれているころだろう。左に紹介しているように、そんな想いを募らせたファンから早くも多くのメッセージが到着！さらに、スタッフイチオシのコミュなど、今回だけの特別企画満載で『ペルソナ3』の深い世界観に迫っていく！

美鶴先輩が白ブラウスでハイヒールなコミュ

・お嬢様で生徒会長でハイヒールってとこにビンビンきてます。早くプレイしたい！(埼玉県・セーブさん)・美鶴は絶対パーティからはずしません、いえはずせません (兵庫県・ヤマオカさん)

▲クールビューティなお嬢様に、主に男性諸君の理性が陥落中。

風花かわいいよ風花コミュ

・戦闘キャラじゃないってとこですでにメロメロです (香川県・ドンさん)・おどおどしてるトコが守ってあげたい。ちょっとドジっ娘なナビがあったら萌えです！(山形県・ふにさん)・能登さん大 好き (京都府・城さん)

▲弱そうなところが母性本能をくすぐったのか大反響。

電撃コミュの基本ルール

●自分が気になるキャラのコミュがあれば、迷うことなく参加せよ！

●気になるコミュがないのなら、迷うことなくコミュを立ち上げろ！

●キャラへの愛、熱い想いさえ伝われば、どんなコメントでもOK！

●『ペルソナ3』に関することやネタなら、どんなものでもOK！

ココに注目

開発スタッフ▶イチオシ妄想コミュ

ここでは、今回の企画のために『ペルソナ3』開発スタッフから送っていただいたイチオシ (個人的好み) の妄想コミュを紹介。コミュキャラ以外に秘められたスタッフの熱い想いを見よ！

ゲームプランナー・田坂氏

保健の江戸川先生とのコミュ

現実にはありえないインパクトありまくりな魔術の授業が魅力的です。独特のセリフ回しで語る先生自身もお気に入り。オススメは授業のときより怪しさに磨きのかかった保健室での先生です。

ゲームブランナー・田坂氏

喫茶店「シャガール」のウェイトレスコミュ

喫茶店「シャガール」で働いているウェイトレスの女の子。まるでメイドのようなキュートな服装にひかれ、ついついそれを目的に喫茶店に通ってしまう自分がそこにいるのです。

ゲームプランナー・田坂氏

柿の木を見ている女子生徒のコミュ

月光館学園の渡り廊下で、柿の木を見ている女の子。ひたすら柿の実が生るのを待っている姿は、どこか哀愁がただよっていて渡り廊下の風景を引き立たせているような感じがします。

ゲームプランナー兼広報・宇田氏

教室で街案内をしてくれる男子コミュ

教室で街案内をしてくれる男子。ずーっと黒板のほうを向いている暗さが、学生時代の自分とかぶり非常にお友だちになりたい感じです。きっと���何かに思い悩んでいるんですよ。えぇ。

ゲームプランナー・後藤氏

メモリーカードのコミュ

正確には『ペルソナ3』の開発ラインには属していないボクですが、ある時期に元デバッカーの経験を買われ、メモリーカード関連のデバック作業を行いました。休日、人もまばらな開発室でただひたすらにセーブデータを作成し、上書きし、消去し、メモリーカードを本体から抜き差しする。現時点でボクの中の『ペルソナ3』は、タルタロスのエントランスと寮のロビーです。ああ、麗しのメモリーカード。ボクの友だちはキミだけだよ⋯⋯。

そのほかにも⋯

⋯こんなコミュを募集中！

右で紹介している以外にも、「電撃コミュ」ではさまざまなキャラのコミュを募集中！ちょっとでも賛同できる内容があれば、『ぺルソナ3』の輪を拡げるためにも下のあて先までコメントをぜひ送ってほしい。もちろん、キミの愛がつまったオリジナルコミュも大歓迎だ！

コミュ名: 順平のセリフが気になるッ！

シャドウ討伐隊のムードメーカー順平くん。最近、テレッテッテー、○○はレベルアップ！と思ったビルドアッパーな出来事を募集しますっ！

コミュ名: ペルソナ犬・コロマル

家の愛犬、どうやらなんかついてるっぽいと心配な飼い主さん。ここで飼い犬の真相を暴露してみませんか？いや、もう、猫でも鳥でも、いいよ？

番 外 編 ボツになった幻のコミュ!？

スタッフイチオシのコミュに加え、開発初期には存在したものの、さまざまな事情でお蔵入りとなった幻のコミュを大公開！

黒澤巡査のコミュ

購入金額に応じてランクアップ⋯ってアコギですよね？

コロマルとのコミュ

話さないけど、餌をあげたり散歩したり、意外と楽しい!？

電撃コミュのあて先

住所、氏名、年齢、そして参加したコミュ名、もしくは自分で立ち上げたいコミュ名とコメントを明記して、「persona3@mediaworks.co.jp」まで、どしどしメールを送っちゃおう！

Sofmap

ゲームショップ・sofmapさん予約特典テレカ絵柄。物思いにふけるアイギス⋯⋯。彼女はいったい何を思うのだろうか？

P3 REPLAY

コミュニティ最大ランクへの必勝法を探せ！

ペルソナの主人公は学生、しかも今回は学校生活を体験できる！ということで友人たちとよい関係を築きつつ、ステータスをALL MAXにすることを目標にゲームを進めてみたいと思います。ということで、前情報ナシに4月を進めてみました。

ボーっと進めるとあっという間に日は過ぎますが、行けるところ、やれることは意外に多い。そこで効率よく1日を過ごすため、1週間のスケジュールを決めることに。これで5月末までにはステータスもランクアップしつつ、コミュの2つくらい最大ランクにできそう��いう手ごたえを受けました。いや余裕かな？時間余るかもしれない。

よし、もう1回最初からやりなおそう！⋯⋯その前にこのデータを使って5月末までのカレンダーを確認しながら具体的な1週間のローテーションを解説していきましょう。

1.【コミュは平日に集中する】

神社でさい銭を入れると学力が上がるのなら毎日通うほうがいいと予想し「神社～コミュ～カラオケ (金土は喫茶店)」という平日休日共通の基本行動を立てる (しかし直後にやってきたのはGW⋯⋯4連休)。

2.【上げるコミュは固定する】

一点集中したほうがコミュの上がりがいいんじゃないかと予想し散々悩んだ結果、4月末までに手に入るコミュから「クラスメイト」と「古本屋」を選び出し固定することにしました。

そして日は流れて試験前週間。いつものように友近と帰ろうと思ったら⋯⋯あれ、席にいない。校内をうろうろしていたら玄関で立ちつくしている友近を見つけ声をかけると⋯⋯。

「試験前だから帰って勉強する」とのこと。⋯⋯え？友近寄り道なし？へぇ～スケジュールによって行動が変わるんだ～。それじゃ古本屋行こうっと。 それによって集中的にランクが上がる老夫婦のコミュ。2つを同時進行してると、こういうときに便利です。同じ学校の生徒じゃこうはいかなかったですね。

そして中間試験開始⋯⋯って試験中は何も行動できないの!？

ちょっと待って、このままだとコミュの2つくらい最大ランクどころか1つもムリだよ！

ビックリよりガッカリが先にきた試験期間が終わると、さっそく成績発表が⋯⋯掲示板に貼り出されましたので見に行くと、「わりと上位だった」。

⋯⋯わりと上位。うーん、もう少し学力上げてたら1位とれたのかな。気になるなぁ⋯⋯。

思った以上に散々な結果だったので、こうなったらローテーションの変更はせずに、狙うコミュも変えないで作戦の練り直しだけしてリトライ決行！その作戦がどういう結果をもたらすのか、次回をお楽しみに！

Long Interview

ロングインタビュー

キャラクターの性格はそれぞれ題���がつけられるくらいプロファイリングしました

各キャラクターの性格などは、どのようにして決められたのでしょうか？

橋野 : 最初、スタッフにいろいろ設定を出してもらったんですけど、どうにも型にハマったものばかりで⋯⋯。パターンみたいなものも必要な部分はあると思いますが、それだと中身が薄くなってしまう気がしたんです。それで、設定の担当者と心理学の本を見たりしながら性格づ けをしたのですが、決まってみたら結構型にハマったキャラクターで、世の中のキャラクターものはよくできてるなぁと思いました (笑)。

副島 : プロファイリングはしましたね。最終的には、社員だったり知り合いだったりがイメージモデルになったりしているんですけど。それだけに、いろいろ設定もありましたが、カットされました。最初は順平がビッグスクーターに乗っているって設定もあったんですよ (笑)。

��性のメインキャラ4人中3人がショートカットなのにはなにか理由が？

副島 : とくに意識はしてないのですが、昔からショートカット好きと言われていたので (笑)。女性キャラといえば、ゆかりは最初すごく嫌味な性格だったんですよ。

橋野 : 順平とゆかりは、今でこそ主人公の代弁者という役づけがされていますけど、初期のころは暗いわねたむわで、今の素直な感じは見当たりませんでした。美鶴に通信で敵を倒してこいって言われたあと「なんなのよ⋯」とか (笑)。あと、美鶴はベタベタの生徒会長ですけど、真田も最初は情けない男だったんですよ。ただ、初期のゆかりと真田は当初の設定がスタッフに大不評で⋯⋯。やっぱり女性のファンの方にも楽しんでほしいので、真田には真田なりの戦う理由をつけて、修正していきましたね。

副島 : 逆に風花は最初からもめることなく、静かなキャラとして作られていきましたね。RPGだと、みんな戦えてソロになっても全然戦える人ばかりじゃないですか。だけど、直接戦えないけど情報解析で助けてくれるというキャラがいることで、仲間としての連帯感が生まれるかなって ことで風花が作られたんです。

橋野 : 最初は、風花だけ危険がないよねってことで、風花が殺されかけるみたいなイベントもあったんです。ただ、時間やボリュームの問題で泣く泣くカットしました。その名残といえるイベントがあるので、プレイしていてそういうシーンがあったら、ニヤリとできると思いますよ。そのぶんというわけではありませんが、風花のセリフ(※7)は全キャラ中で一番多くなりました。セリフのパターンもかなりあるので、あたりも楽しんでもらえればと思います。

ゆかりと真田は当初スタッフに大不評なキャラでした

[miamicommune]

so annoying to me that like. the older the artist is the higher the chance that when their art is posted online it'll be high resolution

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

whenever i bring up my research project to someone who's a bit older and entrenched in the academic spaces i have to hold back from being like "i dont think hormones have anything to do with it to be honest. for example, I have been taking testosterone and-"

[solradguy]

It's ok I put the art book on Archive so you don't have to pay us$80 to look at it ^_^ The files were sent to me by ToxicPyro, who gave me the a-ok to upload them to Archive. Shoutout to Toxic 🎉 https://archive.org/details/ggst-digital-artbook

(tho if anyone has the money/means to support the official releases please do—ASW makes merch decisions based on sales so more book sales = more art books)

Guilty Gear XX Λ Core Plus Mission illustration by Daisuke Ishiwatari. From the Guilty Gear Strive Digital Artbook.

[wcnderlnds]

battlefield | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: running into your ex boyfriend during the squid games was the last thing you expected ・❥・word count: 719 ・❥・warnings: uh... usual squid game stuff. ・❥・ authors note: this is a short one just to test the waters but im obsessed with this man after watching squid game 2 <333

There he was. The last person you’d ever expected to see in this place. Player 230. Choi Su-Bong or, as the world knew him as, Thanos. The bright purple hair had been easy to spot. The last few months had been spent avoiding him so why did fate want to throw you together in this place? Wherever the hell this place was. You still weren’t even sure but as you walked up the stairs to the first game, you didn’t really care. All you wanted to do was lay low and make sure that Thanos didn’t see you. A conversation with your ex boyfriend was the last thing you wanted.

Things had ended badly between the two of you when he’d lost all his money thanks to the crypto scam. It had changed him, turned him into someone you didn’t recognise anymore so when the arguments started and his behaviour became erratic, you knew you had to get out of there. So, you did. You left and had never looked back. All you wanted was enough money to get out of the city and far, far away. There was nothing here for you anymore. If you could win the games then you could finally start fresh somewhere.

Walking through the doors onto a floor of sand and brightly coloured walls, you heard the voice of Thanos talking to his friend. Instantly, you looked down at the ground, hoping he didn’t see you. Unfortunately for you, he had stood next to you. His eyes scanned your face before recognition lit his eyes up.

“Senorita!” He said in a sing-song voice, wide grin on his face as he outstretched his arms. “What are you doing here? Come on, give me a hug.”

“None of your business and no thanks,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m hurt,” he splayed his hand on his chest over his heart. As much as he was using his confident swagger to irritate you, deep inside he couldn’t be more glad to see you. “Not even going to give me a chance to talk, huh? That’s stone cold.”

As the rules of the game echoed through the speakers, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. His hand had raised to his friend to stop him from talking to him so he could get a proper look at you. When you had left, that had been the breaking point for him. Everything had gone downhill from there. For so long he’d been trying to seek you out, to apologise but he knew you’d been avoiding him. Your friends wouldn’t tell him where you were, your family had chewed him out the second he had showed up on their doorstep so, eventually, he’d given up. But, here you were.

As Player 456 shouted out about the game being a lie and that you were going to die, your head shot up. Surely he couldn’t be telling the truth, right? Red Light, Green Light was a children’s game. At most you were probably going to be out of the running for the cash if you were caught moving.

“He’s crazy,” Thanos said. It was his way of trying to comfort you. He had instantly noticed the slight panic in your eyes, the way you were rubbing your hands against your thighs. “Don’t listen to him.”

All you could do was nod but there was a gut feeling inside you telling you that maybe it wasn’t entirely all crazy talk. Something about this whole thing felt off. Your eyes caught some girl talking, her hands waving around then suddenly she was on the ground. Instantly, fear gripped you, your stomach dropping. The room around you started to spin – you were really going to die here.

“Hey, hey,” Thanos had reached out, his hand gripping yours as he stood in front of you, back to you. “Stay behind me. I won’t let anything happen to you. You hear me? Stay behind me.”

“But… what if…” The sheer panic in your voice made his heart clench.

“No. We’re both getting out of here alive, okay? Now, stay behind me.” His protective instinct had kicked in. Right now, he didn’t care if you hated him. All he cared about was making sure you survived this so maybe, just maybe, he could finally make things right.

[foldingfittedsheets]

One of the most memorable speeches I've ever heard was given at my beloved's graduation. They attended a pretty crunchy school natural medicine. They went for acupuncture but they also had many degrees including nutrition, naturopathic medicine, and most importantly to this story: midwifery.

The common consensus across campus was that the midwives operated on their own frequency which is a nice way to say they were usually really weird, even by the standards of a pretty alternative crowd of people. Not weird in a bad way. But weird nonetheless. They straddled the boundary between life and death and it changed them.

I had never experienced a midwife before the ceremony which is why I didn't think anything of the fact that a midwife stepped up to give the graduation speech. My friends nearby had a stir of repressed amusement and elbowing each other which did puzzle me slightly.

The speech began as a story, which I heartily approved of. The midwife related an experience in which a woman told her that during her first birth she had screamed too much and used up her energy in that instead of pushing and the midwife, to the collective masses assembled to watch a solemn ceremony, said, "I told her this time she would need to scream with her vagina."

The audience was slightly stunned by this, myself included. I scanned the crowd to see dropped jaws and wide eyes. It was such a bold statement to make in an academic setting and no one quite knew what to make of it.

The midwife continued unperturbed.

She related that many dads didn't know what to do during the birthing process and that this particular dad chose to chant over and over, "You're gonna be huge, you're gonna be huge," as his wife screamed with her vagina to birth their child. The midwife mused that she didn't know if he was talking to their child or his wife or if he even registered what he was saying in that moment.

Then the subject strayed toward how the student body had strained and striven toward this goal, this endgame that was the result of sleepless nights, hard work, and camaraderie. The speech seemed to have moved onto more solid ground and traditional graduation reminiscences. The crowd settled, thinking the worst had passed.

But as the midwife wrapped up she said, "As you go forth into the world, pushed out by this noble institution to help the masses, just remember one thing," she paused and the audience held their breath while the beat drew out before she finally whispered:

"You're gonna be huge."

There was a roar of astonished laughter as her speech neatly tied their graduation into a metaphor for being birthed unto the world and we finally understood the point of her anecdote.

The speech lives in infamy in all our collective memories. Years later my beloved's dad will still be like, "Remember that bizarre graduation speech?"

And it was. It was bizarre. But I'll say this. I've attended a lot of graduations, and I don't remember any of the speeches half so well as I do that one.

[itneverendshere]

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst) chapter two┆ chapter three ┆ chapter four

The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.

It had been a long month.

Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.

But this time was different.

This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.

Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.

You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing

You weren’t stupid.

You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.

You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.

But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.

"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.

You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.

You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.

“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.

What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.

“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.

“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”

You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.

“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.

You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.

And then you heard hers. No fucking way.

You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.

She was there, with him.

You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.

There they were.

She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.

"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"

You froze.

He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.

You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?

Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.

It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.

That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.

After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?

Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.

What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.

But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.

Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. None of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.

“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.

Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"

You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”

He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”

You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”

You hated saying her name.

Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.

Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.

“Did everyone fucking know?”

Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”

Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.

You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”

He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”

But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.

With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.

Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”

That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.

You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.

You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.

He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.

The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.

A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.

How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?

Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?

All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."

You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.

But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.

And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.

“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?

But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.

Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.

You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.

Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.

You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.

"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."

The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.

But then…

You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.

Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.

You hadn’t had your period in… so long.

Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.

You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."

How could you not have noticed?

Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"

You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.

You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.

“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.

He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.

Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.

"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.

You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”

He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.

You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."

The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.

Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.

You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.

Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.

You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.

You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.

“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.

You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”

“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”

Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.

You just needed to get out of here.

“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”

His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”

Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.

And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.

Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.

While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.

You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.

The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.

“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.

You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.

“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.

You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.

The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.

You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.

The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.

You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.

The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?

You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.

You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.

You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.

You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.

Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?

Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?

It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.

You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.

The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.

Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.

“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”

The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.

You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.

This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.

You were tired.

Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.

Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.

Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.

Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.

All of this would go away.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb

@rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2 @starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols

@icaqttt

[st7rnioioss]

WHEN BSF!CHRIS CAN'T KEEP HIS HANDS AND THOUGHTS OFF INEXPERIENCED!READER ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... grinding, smut, p in v, unprotected sex (don't do this!!), kissing ˚࿔ notes: i'd like to say beforehand this is a little further into their relationship! I'll add more background stuff later<33

chris was restless. he continued to toss and turn in your bed, finally settling on his side, one arm slung around you waist while gently tugging you closer to him, pressing your back flush against his chest while you were sleeping peacefully.

he tried to doze off, he really did. but sleep seemed like the furthest thing away when he laid there, listening to your soft breathing, as the only currently audible noise, feeling the way your chest rose and fell under his touch.

his mind was running a million miles an hour, and he couldn’t get it to stop. it was dirty, wrong thoughts—about you. his best friend since.. well, for as long as he could remember. it had become something more usual, but this time he couldn’t control it.

you’d always been attached to the hip, but never once had he thought about you like this. never had he wondered what you’d look like naked, vulnerable under him.. okay, maybe a few times, but never to this extent. you'd only gone as far as him showing you how to finger yourself properly, where he took over the job because he couldn't resist.

how would you react to his touch? would you reach for his hair? his arms? would you grab the sheets instead? what did your moan sound like?

the real question was why on earth he was having these dirty thoughts about you. you were the sweetest girl he’d ever laid his eyes on, so sweet it gave him a toothache whenever you’d innocently bat your eyes at him, begging him to go get ice cream with you.

gosh, make it stop, he thought to himself, groaning when he snaked his other hand down to try and ease his rock-hard cock, which only seemed to make it worse, hardening even more under his own touch.

he didn’t know what to do, and only to worsen his panicked state, you started turning, his arm momentarily slipping from your waist when you faced him.

your eyes were thankfully still shut, lips in a soft pout from the pillow pushing them together. the sight didn’t help either. nothing helped him ease his raging hard boner. you laid there, so pure, unknowing of his sinful thoughts while your peaceful, gentle look only made the tight restrain in his boxers worse.

sleep was out of reach by now, his hand desperately trying to relieve his aching cock with a groan by carefully rubbing his palm over the bulge—but then your eyes fluttered open. he stared down at you with widen eyes, almost in disbelief that he’d been caught somewhat rubbing himself through his pants, but you didn’t seem to notice right away.

“are you okay?” your soft voice was heard. “you seem restless..” yeah, his constant tossing and groaning woke you up, but not enough to fully comprehend the situation chris was in.

“i- i can’t sleep. that’s all,” he whispered back, blinking rapidly while your eyes scanned his face, roaming every feature you were so familiar with.

speculating about his somewhat unsure answer, your eyes made their way down his chest when he let another whine slip, noticing the way his palm pressed against his groin, and you immediately felt ten times more awake than you were before. heat rushed to your face, before your eyes met chris's desperate gaze.

“oh..” you quipped, suddenly hyper aware of every movement of his, every desperate groan you’d heard behind you just moments prior now making much more sense.

“p-please, just- just let me.. let me put it in,” chris pleaded miserably, letting his free hands knuckles brush over your reddening cheek, his touch gentle as ever.

“chris- no, we can’t..” your answer only made his dick harden, though it seemed fucked up. you were so damn innocent, a prude even. you’d always avoided the topic of sex, not daring to go down that path ever. but he knew that when it came to him, you could bend the rules. “please- i’ll make it quick, i’ll just put the tip in. it hurts so fucking bad,”

but something about the situation caused you to turn curious. chris begging for your touch, begging to let him do something about his hard erection, to touch you.

“okay..” attentively, you turned around to lay in your previous position on your side, chris's hand slipping from the front of his shorts, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

“thank you, thanks- thank you,” he babbled, his clammy hands making their way to the elastic waistband of your sleep shorts, slowly pushing them down your thighs, until they pooled around your ankles, that you continued to gently kick off.

“i promise i’ll be careful, just the tip..” his breath fanned across your neck, making a soft gasp slip from your lips.

your eyes were wide open and lips parted when he hooked his hand under your thigh, gently lifting it to spread them apart, carefully placing your leg back down as if you were made of fragile porcelain.

“o-okay..” you spoke quietly, your breath hitching when his finger made contact with your panties, gently tugging them to the side. “already so wet f’me..” his voice was husky against your ear, lips grazing the sensitive skin as his thumb slowly ran between your slick folds, a weak moan falling from your parted lips.

you were driving him insane, already dripping for him, and it only took a couple right touches and words. oh, how bad he wanted to keep showing you how to feel good, let alone be the first one to. he'd already gotten his fair share on that part.

you’ve never been more nervous, but yet you felt safe with chris pressed so close up against you. it was chris after all, he’d never do anything to hurt you, plus, he was always so gentle with you whenever it came to stuff like this. your hands tugged the stuffed animal you usually slept with to your chest, nuzzling your nose into the neck of the teddy, the soft material under your fingertips easing your mind a little.

“i’ll be gentle, angel.. no need to worry,” he whispered, one of his hands maneuvering his shorts down mid-thigh, along with his boxers, the other one gently running down the side of your face, tugging a few strands of hair behind your ear.

he wrapped his palm around his cock, fisting his cock with a lewd moan, before bringing the head of his cock to your entrance.

“i’ll put it in now.. it’s just the tip, don’t panic..” he mumbled, pressing a reassuring series of kisses to the side of your neck, feeling you nod. “go- go ahead..”

those words was all he needed, gently smearing his sticky tip down your soaked folds, before pressing it forward, watching it disappear inside of you.

“holy- holy fuck..” he groaned between gritted teeth, his fingers gripping at your hip, a weak gasp elicited from your mouth. “oh, chris..”

your moan was silenced from the soft teddy in your arms, eyes fluttering shut at the slow intrusion, letting whines fall from your lips.

chris nearly lost his mind when he felt your walls squeeze around his tip—it took every fiber in his body not to stuff you full of his cock, not to completely ignore your previous, innocent words and start fucking into you.

“gosh- chris..” you whined, nails digging into the soft fur under your hands.

you could practically feel the desperation seep out of him from behind you, his throbbing dick just aching to be inside you.

“m’sorry angel, sorry.. i can’t hold back, please say something-“ chris's voice was strained with despair, his fingertips digging into your bare hip, smoothing his palm over your thigh.

“it’s- its okay..” you whispered, words somewhat muffled, but coherent. he was thankful almost, mumbling continuous praise and ‘thank you’ into your ear, smoothing his palms down your sides, under your top.

it sure was okay, he could tell. you were drooling around his tip, only making it easier to slide right in—which he did. holding tightly onto you, leaving kisses down your neck and back, he pushed his cock further inside of you, slowly.

“h-halfway, baby.. you’re doing so good,” he husked, his heart pounding in chest as he stilled his movements for a minute, allowing you to adjust.

you couldn’t keep quiet, eyes rolling to the back of your head while they fell shut, biting down onto the plush toy to restrain the moans. yet, pornographic whimpers slipped from your gritted teeth from the painful yet delicious stretch, making chris's head turn to mush.

“fuck.. you’re so perfect,” he hissed, sinking his length in until he was fully sheathed inside your heat with a sigh of relief.

blubbered moans fell shamelessly from the both of your lips as he slowly rutted against you, a hint of pain striking through you as you adjusted to his size.

you knew it was wrong. so, so wrong. friends didn’t do this, they really didn’t. what was gonna happen after this? would you just go to bed and wake up just usually tomorrow, just treating it as a favor?

but even though, you never wanted it to stop. his soft touch, lips continuing their work on your lower neck, stuffing you full of his cock when he rolled his hips.

“does it hurt?” he purred, his hot breath mingling on your neck, making a slight shiver run down your spine.

“no… chris, it feels- feels good,” you breathlessly whimpered, gripping the plush animal between your arms as if your life depended on it, listening to the dirty squelching of your pussy, basically drooling onto the soft material between your lips.

he only nodded, feeling your walls flutter around his cock, clenching and squeezing the life out of him. your back arched just slightly when he hit a specific spot within you, moaning loudly into the stuffed toy.

“y-you’re doing so well.. so beautiful,” he cooed, the praise going straight to the pit in your tummy, feeling the tension tighten as your teeth nibbled on the soft plushie.

“oh- oh my god..” without any warning, the waves came crashing over you, your chest heaving while your grip loosened on the soft plushie in your arms.

“jesus christ,” he panted, his slow but rhythmic thrusts continuing, until he reached his climax as well.

“shit- i’m gonna come,” he barely got to say, before the ropes of white spilled inside of you, letting out a shaky breath at the release of tension. you felt limp in his hold, your face growing hot, and heart racing with lidded eyes.

“thank you, thank you angel,” his breath hitched as he slowly pulled out. his pink lips left repeated kisses to the side of your face, listening intently to your breath regulating gradually, the pants turning back to the soft breaths he’d been listening to just moments prior.

you let a small smile break, nuzzling your nose back into the teddy bear to hide your blushing face, as if your back wasn’t turned to him. “it’s fine…”

his fingers danced across your waist, making their way to your hip, giving it a gentle pat as a dazed smile settled onto his lips.

“come on, pretty.. we gotta go pee,”

more bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: none:3

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @forgottxen @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @forgottxen @chrisslut04 @sturniolossss @slvtf0rchr1s @blahbel668

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[chososdiscordkitten]

Are You A Chick?!

artist: @kcokaine_ on twt

Synopsis: Gojo gets turned into a woman for a few hrs and reader nd him get down to fun activities ^-^

Pairing: Fem!Gojo x Fem!Reader Content: established relationship, unexplained gender bending, GOJUSSY :D , wlw, use of his/her regarding gojo, fingering (f gojo receiving), oral (f gojo receiving), squirting (gojo), SCISSORING🤩✂️, dirty talk, god I love women

MDNI

You were lying on your shared bed, bored, scrolling on your phone, waiting for your boyfriend to come home from work. You were about to call him to ask why he was so late. Only you heard the front door of your apartment opening- bolting off the bed to greet him at the door. 

Halting your steps when you saw a smaller version of Satoru standing in the kitchen. 

Wearing the now oversized clothes you saw Satoru leave the apartment in that morning. You squint your eyes, scanning his face and noticing it was much softer. 

His jawline not half as sharp, poutier lips and a smaller nose- his face looked so similar, only it had a more feminine look to it. His eyes were the only thing that stayed the same- big and adorned with thick white lashes.  

“Don’t say a word.” Satoru spoke- his voice a higher pitch and with a suede purr. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, seeing Satoru reach out a much smaller hand than you expected- “Are you a chick?” you parted your lips- amused at how the blush started to rise on your boyfriend’s cheeks. 

Satoru huffed- a bitchy sigh with his hip popped slightly. “It’ll only last for a few hours.” you huffed- entertained at the feminine voice Gojo spoke in. 

Though he was usually taller and broader, his clothes were too large for his now more petite frame. 

You darted your eyes down to her chest- Small pebbles peaked beneath Gojo’s tshirt, his small breasts forming two tents beneath the fabric. Widening your eyes and realizing that this was real. 

“Can I touch them?” you asked, the corners of your lip curled up- thinking about how sensitive Satoru was generally. You wanted to discover how sensitive your boyfriend was in a woman’s body. 

Satoru scoffed- sounding just like you’d expect him to as a woman, bitchy and bordering on a bimbo tone. 

Your boyfriend shook off the oversized jacket- showing you just how much smaller he was now. 

Gojo furrowed his eyebrows- small and effortlessly perfect, pushing out her tits and looking at you with a pouty glossed lip. 

You reached your hands out eager to feel your boyfriends breasts. “Should I be concerned that the first thing you wanna do when I get home is feel me up?” Gojo laughed- a soft giggle coming from her throat. 

Scoffing as you placed your hands beneath Gojo’s braless tits, “If I came home the opposite gender- what would the first thing you do be?” you scoffed, Parting your lips and grabbing what you could from her chest.

Perky and no bigger than an A cup. But her tits filled your palms perfectly. 

Your thumb took an exploratory swipe at the little bud formed beneath the t-shirt. Earning a light, pretty huff from Satoru’s lips, flashing your eyes back up at him with a glimmer circling your pupil. 

You raised your eyebrows- a greedy smile forming on your lips at all the thoughts that raced through your mind. “Can I fuck you?” You grinned, watching the blush on Satoru’s cheeks deepen. 

It took very little for Gojo’s lips to snap to yours- feeling the petite woman before you trying to take the reins from your hands- but all it took was one little grope at her ass to make Gojo compliant. 

Guiding Satoru back into your bedroom with your hands roaming beneath the hem of his shirt- grasping at the soft skin beneath the fabric with pretty whimpers falling from her lips onto yours. 

Pulling away from Satoru’s lips when you settled him to sit on the edge of the bed. 

Her lips pulled to the side, a soft ‘tsk’ leaving them as Satoru looked up at you. “Why does it feel like you’re more into this than normal?” Your gender-bent boyfriend bitched at you as you slipped off your shirt. 

Placing your hands onto the sides of Satoru’s chunky cheeks, pressing soft kisses onto the puffy lips of her face and guiding her to scooch up the bed. 

You grinned, placing your hands on the edge of Gojo’s shirt. “What does it feel like?” changing the conversation as you pulled Satoru’s shirt off his body. Hanging your mouth open and seeing the sight before you. 

Not in a million years could you picture the portrait that was painted before you. 

Satoru’s bottom lip pouted, a roaming blush forming on her chest and pink hardened nipples greeting you. 

“Feels like I’m gettin’ pawed at.” Satoru scoffed, pressing her lips back onto yours and feeling your hands rest on his hips, dipping your fingers beneath the band of the oversized sweats and rolling them off. Feeling Satoru’s hands mimic the movement on your own bottoms. 

Only this time- compared to the hundreds of others, Satoru’s hands had a soft, delicate touch. 

Satoru had you pinned as he naturally did, on your back and your legs spread with her hips resting between them. Satoru tugged your bottoms off as his delicate lips moved against yours. 

Feeling Gojo do the same, leaving him bare and waiting for something to happen- trying to recall what he usually does whenever he isn’t a woman- trailing his smaller hands from your side to your inner thigh. 

You scoffed- “This isn’t about me ‘toru.” you smiled, pulling his hands from your thigh and intertwining your fingers with her slim ones. Looking at the soft expression your boyfriends feminized face held. 

“You don’t wanna know what it feels like for me?” you grinned, trailing the tips of your fingers against her rib cage- causing a shuddering exhale to leave his lips. 

Satoru bit her lip, feeling the warmth between her legs twitch from your offer. 

You trailed your hand between her thighs, reaching the drenched center Satoru had ignored between his legs till now. 

Watching her mouth inhale sharply, batting his white eyelashes closed as you lightly traced your middle and ring finger against her core. 

It took very little for Gojo to straddle your thighs, leaning an arm back and planting it on your calf. Giving you an unobstructed view of your boyfriends pretty, glistening cunt. 

As pretty and leaky as his cock was- this gave you a different kind of shiver down your spine from how fucking gorgeous he looked right now. 

Your hands rubbing softly on Satoru’s thighs, looking up to her shy expression. 

Satoru was a talker typically- teasing and being able to act on his horny threats just to make you blush. But now Satoru held her tongue, shy eyes avoiding your gaze. And squirming at the light grips you’d make against his thighs. 

And when her hips had ground down- instinctively as though you had cock for him. 

Or when your hands finally reached his pale inner thighs- you swore you could hear a slight shudder take the shape of a whimper leave Gojo’s throat. The prettiest sound you had yet to hear from him. 

He would let out pretty sounds generally, but this- this was something different. More defined, and less throaty. Almost as angelic as the pretty white lashes fanning over Satoru’s blushing cheeks. 

His hand urging you with a light squeeze at your thigh. When you finally traced the pad of your thumb against the little glistening pearl that you had neglected for what felt like an eternity to Satoru;

As though it was unwillingly, tossing her head back with a nibbled lip. Even the curve of her neck was fucking pretty. 

Dissolving into the feeling of your gentle thumb against his clit. His grip against your thigh turned to a squeeze with urge as you made more teasing circles against him with a hand on his pale thigh. 

Between a breathy moan, Satoru looked back to you- “It’s unfair that you get to feel this all the time.” she huffed as you applied a little more pressure to the sensitive nub. 

“Just wait till I make you cum-” you huffed with a smile, watching Satoru’s effeminate face churn with pinched eyebrows at your words. 

You raised your hand from his thigh- placing it flat, right where his womb would be. “Do you feel it building right here?” you asked in a murmur, looking up at your pretty boyfriend with amazed eyes. 

Satoru only nodded quickly- her plush lip tucked between pearly teeth and eyes closed. Your thumb making hastier circles and watching Satoru’s chest heave with eyes full of wonder.

Your hand traced to her bent hip, lightly squeezing at the malleable skin and watching the face Satoru made as you drew an orgasm out of her. The tips of your ring and middle finger circling at the taut entrance that seeped nectar. 

Satoru gasped when the pad of your thumb caught the very tip of his clit. Snapping one of his slender hands onto your shoulder as a brace. And your lips being right at the level of his perky tits- your lips parted and latched onto the puffy pink nipple on her chest. 

The whimpers that left Gojo’s throat were far too genuine- knowing how unashamed he was about them normally, the ones he let out now would be equally as unashamed.

Satoru’s lips parted in a small ‘o’- stuttering over every other moan as your thumb rubbed harsher circles against him. Your tongue lapped at the pebble of her nipple, sucking harshly to draw more pretty sounds from her lips. 

Gojo tried- she tried warning that they were cumming. As though some kind of mess would spew from him as it usually did. Only your hands didn’t care- neither did your relentless lips. 

With a choked moan- Satoru held his breath. His cunt clenching around nothing as the tips of your fingers felt the twitching his entrance made- as though she was trying to suck them in. 

Your eyes looked up at the pretty sight before you- parting your lips and throwing your head back. Watching with amazed eyes at the pale, shuddering shoulders that were graced with light goosebumps. 

Satoru’s eyebrows were lightly pinched, and her puffy lips parted- finally releasing the air trapped in his lungs with a pretty moan. 

Giving him a few seconds to shake off the aftershocks of his very first orgasm as a woman. Satoru trailed her hands to the side of your head, caressing gently and looking down with a peaked corner at her lip. 

“So unfair-” he whispered, leaning down and pressing a lazy kiss onto your lips as his hips ground down to your fingers. Your thumb made little to no movements as Satoru’s hips urged your fingers to press inside. 

And as bitchy and needy as he was as a man- You knew not to deny Satoru this now. 

Isolating your middle finger and pressing against Satoru’s soaked, taut entrance- a whimper between a breath leaving his throat and rumbling onto your lips. Lightly curling your finger until you hit a little nudge inside him. 

The little prod making Satoru pull away from you with a soft whine. Both of his hands now on your neck and arm- trying to find soothing in whatever his hands could grip. 

“More,” Satoru whimpered into the air between you- a high pitched upturn ending her plea. Your lips latched onto hers- drawing your finger from her soft walls and pressing it to the neighboring finger. 

Lazily kissing at the corner of her mouth, trailing kisses down to Satoru’s softer jaw. Pressing both of your fingers past her entrance- “So tight-” you murmured, feeling resistance from her walls as her hands gripped harder. 

Clearer whimpers and moans, leaving her throat at the light sting, your lips kissing down her neck- trying to find the sweet spot Satoru always allowed you to exploit. 

And when the tips of both of your fingers reached that same spot from earlier, the moan that left Satoru’s lips bordered on guttural- a high-pitched inhale followed as your lips found the sensitive spot of her neck. 

Suckling at the pale skin as your palm pressed flush against her clit. Satoru’s eyes fluttered shut as his hips started moving back and forth. Unashamedly rutting his cunt against the arch of your palm as your fingers lightly bumped into her gspot. 

Your lips formed a smile against Gojo’s skin- grateful of how pretty she sounded, almost like a hymn to your ears. Even more with the light squelches of his cunt frotting against your hand. 

Reaching your hand up her ribcage that flared with every sharp inhale she made. Lightly cupping her breast with a teasing thumb on the hardened nipple. 

It was too much for Satoru- overstimulating himself as his hips moved without instruction from his brain. The tingle of Satoru’s own gluttony formed in his spine as your thumb took a few soft swipes at his nipple. 

“M’gonna cum again-” she whimpered, as though it was you moving her hips against your palm. You pulled your lips from her collarbone with a smile. 

“Go ahead.” you instructed, tone far too deep and overindulgent as Gojo’s hips moved quicker- frotting her leaking cunt against you with a whimper. 

It was as though the pearly gates of heaven opened for Satoru as he felt another orgasm wave over her petite shoulders, his cunt clenching around your fingers. Barely able to keep his posture as she rode herself down- greedy hums leaving Satoru’s lips as you kissed at her chest. 

Using the hand on her hip to guide her to keel onto her side- landing on the bed with a pleased smile. Rolling onto her back as your lips planted gentle kisses on her sternum. 

Soft hums leave his lips as your hands spread his thighs. Tilting her head to the side and watching your shoulders rest between her flawless thighs. Placing a hand to the top of your head as your lips kissed at her thighs. 

“You’re so greedy~” Satoru hummed as your lips dampened small circles on her thighs- close to her glistening cunt, but still so fucking far. 

You let out a soft laugh, “I’m greedy?” softly caressing his outer thighs as she nodded against the pillows. Excitement reeling behind her cerulean eyes- so eager to know what it feels like to receive head as a woman. 

And as though her hand was urging you to finally kiss somewhere other than her thighs- you made a light lick from her perfectly displayed cunt up to her clit with a shuddering sigh leaving her lips. A groan left your lips at her flavor- as sweet as you expected her to taste. 

Your hands held Satoru’s hips, keeping them spread with her feet planted harshly against the bed. Your tongue made a few more kitten licks at her clit- hearing the desperation in every whimper that left her lips. 

Taking one of your hands and aligning it with her entrance again- right below your chin and slowly pushing them in. Your lips connect with the base of her clit with your tongue lightly swirling against the puffy nub. 

Your fingers moving with ease now- his cumt stretched just enough for you to start pumping your fingers. Satoru swore that his eyes would cross had he held them open- so he closed them. 

Thralling his head back into the pillows with a throaty moan- the hand on his hip moving up her side- gripping at Satoru’s breast with a light squeeze. 

Gojo’s back arching against the bed as your fingers prodded against her gspot. The whispers of overstimulation roaming up her spine once more as she felt another orgasm build in her womb. 

Only this time it felt different- His moans far too loud as your tongue made relentless swirls against her clit- your fingers bumping into her gspot at the perfect angle. 

“Wait-” Satoru inhaled sharply, his hips bucking up into your mouth as the knot in her tummy tightened. Nodding her head quickly as she fisted the sheets- knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping. 

You looked up at Gojo, furrowed eyebrows and parted lips greeting you as Satoru whimpered. Threats of ‘I’m gonna—’ left her lips as you continued the mean movements. 

Satoru sat up slightly with a groan- your palm filling with spurts of liquid as your fingers continued. 

Loud mewls leaving Gojo’s throat as your mouth refused to stop- making sure to drain Satoru as the sides of your face became drenched with his squirt. 

“J-jesus fucking chri-” she called out in an exhale- her hips stuttering against your lips as you slowed your fingers. 

And when you finally got your fill, Satoru’s hands cupped the sides of your face and pulled you back up to him. A light moan vibrating onto your lips as she kissed you. Tasting her own slick and essence on your lips with every swipe her tongue made against yours.

Your hands groping at her thighs as Satoru pulled away from your lips- looking into your eyes with urgency. 

“Fuck me baby, please-” She whimpered into the air, desperately needing to feel you. In any way she could. 

You pressed your lips onto hers again, feeling her hand roam down to your bottom and give you a squeeze, the other cupping at your breast- noting that even as a woman, Satoru had wandering hands. 

In the split second after Satoru begged you to fuck her- you thought to the how. No strap- no toys at your disposal- but then you thought of the closest thing. 

Rolling over with Satoru in your hands- leaving you on your back with one of Satoru’s knees planted beneath your thigh. The other straddled atop your other leg.

Completely tangled between limbs as you pulled your lips from hers- Your bare cunt and his threatening to touch as she looked at you with curious eyes. 

You placed your hands onto her hips, looking into her bleary, cerulean eyes and guiding her down. A little whimper leaves your lips at the sudden contact of her cunt against yours. 

It took very little for Satoru to get the hint- planting her hands onto your sides and straightening her back. 

Taking a small nibble at her lip at the feeling of your clits bumping against each other. Looking down and watching at the small grinds he made- a small giggle laced with a moan leaving her lips. “Ffffuck, It’s like we’re kissing~” she grinned, causing you to let out a small laugh with an eye roll. 

Satoru reached for the back of your thigh with one hand, pinning it up slightly to give her a better access and a better view. 

Gojo tried starting at a slow pace- but the warmth radiating from your cunt onto his was undeniably tantalizing. 

Small moans fell from her lips as she started making unpatterned, sloppy thrusts against you. Uncaring if it wasn’t right- only that it felt good when his clit would bump against yours and the mixing slick of both your cunts making the filthiest shlops and squelches made him even more wet.

Her tits bounced with every desperate thrust she made against you, your hands holding a bruising grip at her pale hips, following every grind she would make against you. 

And when Satoru’s thighs started burning from the frantic movements- your hands led her hips into the frotting. Through gritted teeth- “Right here ‘toru-” you mumbled, Satoru taking over for your hands and humping against that very spot. 

Her face churned with pure, undiscovered pleasure as the mixed slick made it easier to glide against you. 

Shared moans reverberated off the walls before Satoru leaned down to connect her lips with yours, her breasts pressing against yours harshly. Keeping the same quick pace against your linked cunts. 

His tongue slotting against yours sloppily as moans rumbled against each other- hands gripping at anything they could find with his clit grinding against your own neglected one. Building your own orgasm as you hummed against Gojo’s lips.

One of your hands on her plump ass- gripping harshly with the other on her hip- and Satoru’s were gripping for dear life at your plush thighs- working himself through the overstimulation with soft groans against your lips. 

Splitting the kiss with a loud whimper- desperate hips rutting against you at an unbelievable pace as you felt the knot in your tummy threaten to come undone- “I’m cummin-” she whimpered before pressing her lips back onto yours. 

Your eyes tightened as Satoru worked you past an orgasm, back arching against the bed as Satoru crossed the finish line with you. Squirting whatever was left inside of her against your cunt. 

Huffing heavily through her nose as her hips slowed- Satoru’s grip on your thighs loosening as she felt the aftershocks roll through her shoulders. 

Easing your thigh down and feeling Gojo rest her body weight atop yours- just like he did when he was a man. Her lips sloppily moved against yours before pulling away- hazy eyes and pressing her chest further into yours with a pout. 

Your hands raised from her ass and rested on the soft skin of her back. Satoru raised her shoulders and looked into your eyes- almost troubled.

“What is it?” you mumbled, touching her cheek and caressing it softly with your thumb. Watching the pout deepen before parting his lips. 

Her breasts pressed against yours- “How do you know what to do with another girl?” Satoru pouted in a sad tone. You smiled softly, nodding your head and resting back into the pillows. 

“I did a lot of experimenting in college.” you hummed, Satoru following you and rubbing her nipples against yours unknowingly. 

Your eyes flashed down to your connected chests- “You’ll still like me when I become- me again, right?” She spoke softly- shy and stark in comparison to how he usually was. 

You pinched your eyebrows- “Course I will ‘toru-” pressing a soft kiss to her lips, “I can’t wait till you're back to normal.” you mumbled. Looking at the blush on Satoru’s cheeks deepen at your declaration. 

Satoru let out a dreamy sigh, squinting and looking down to where your eyes kept flashing. “S’like we’re kissing.” you smiled with a mumble, a small giggle leaving Satoru’s lips. 

She sighed, leaning her head back down to your shoulder, “Dunno how you get anything done if that’s what it feels like every time.” Satoru mumbled, closing her eyes and placing a hand on the side of your face. 

A half-laugh left your throat, “I would be all over you 24/7 if I was a chick.” he hummed, legs tangled against each other as your hand rubbed small circles at her back. 

“God knew not to make you a woman, you’d cause too much trouble,” you murmured, hearing a half conscious hum leave Satoru’s lips as she drifted to sleep atop you. 

That night you fell asleep with your girlfriend in your arms- soft, dainty and bare in your hands. Breathing softly with a feminine tinge in every exhale she made. 

And you woke up with your broad, far too heavy boyfriend in your arms. His exhales taking their usual throaty tone when he breathed them against your skin.  

Either or- it was still your Satoru. No matter what form he took, he was still yours. 

-

(a.n) this was so hot, I love woman, and gojussy. by the time you're reading this, ill be watching a medieval tournament👍🏽

[hoshifighting]

Nerd!Seungcheol

— Synopsis: After finding Nerdy!Seungcheol crying in the corner of the locker room because his girlfriend broke up with him to be with a jock after joining in the cheerleading team, you decide to help him and do everything he wished his ex-girlfriend had done. — WC: 6.6k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, crack, some bickering—slight enemies2lovers plot, he cries, seungcheol is not a virgin (but his ex never gave him blowjob), mentions of alcohol (beer), mentions of glow-up, reader uses short dress and mentions short skirt, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, answering phone in the middle of the sex—voyeur?, hickeys, body fluids (cum) and cringey mentions of hands mimics (fingering/blowjob).

As you head to the dressing room to grab your things after your Friday lonely practice, the usual silence from the night is broken by a faint, muffled sound. You pause, listening intently. It’s a sniffling noise, followed by broken pants. Curiosity piqued, you follow the sound deeper into the lockers, your footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor.

Turning the corner, you find Seungcheol, huddled in a corner, hugging his knees to his chest. 

“Seungcheol? What are you doing here?” you ask, a smirk tugging at your lips. Teasing him is practically second nature to you.

His head snaps up, eyes wide and red-rimmed. “What do you want?” he snaps back, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

You place a hand on your waist, raising an eyebrow. “I think the better question is, why are you in the women’s locker room?”

His eyes widen in realization. “Seriously?” he mutters, scrambling to his feet, the embarrassment clear on his tear-streaked face.

You roll your eyes and turn to leave. 

You wait just outside, leaning against the wall with your phone, scrolling through messages, pretending not to notice the state he’s in.

A few moments later, Seungcheol emerges, his face still blotchy from crying but now trying to pull himself together. He dries his tears on his sweatshirt, still hiccuping softly.

“Spill it,” you say, not looking up from your phone. “What happened?”

He hesitates, but he knows that on Monday, everyone will know about it. “Minji broke up with me,” he admits, his voice cracking. “She’s dating Jaehyun from the basketball team now.”

It’s a stereotype for a reason. “And you didn’t see that coming?”

Seungcheol’s face crumples again, and you immediately regret your harsh words.

But you can't help it! Jaehyun is the quintessential jock, the kind of guy who always ends up dating cheerleaders. It’s almost cliché.

Seungcheol nods continuing, looking down at his feet. “I knew she wanted more popularity, but I didn’t think she’d...”

“Look, Seungcheol, she’s not worth it if she’s willing to dump you for some jock just to boost her social status.” You shrug as you walk toward the hallway exit.

He looks up at you, eyes filled with confusion. “Why are you being nice to me?”

You shrug, slipping your phone into your bag. “I can’t let you mope around like this. It’s pathetic.”

He manages a weak smile at that. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll walk you back to your dorm,” you say, starting to walk again.

You leave Seungcheol at his dorm, giving him a final glance. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you need to toughen up.” 

The weekend passes in a blur of volleyball practice and social events. You don’t see Seungcheol at all, not even a glimpse. Sunday night, you find yourself at a party, scanning the crowded room. There she is—Minji, with Jaehyun, surrounded by people. They look like the picture-perfect couple, a stark contrast to the image of Seungcheol crying in the women’s locker room just two nights ago.

After the party, you head to the convenience store near the university dorms to grab a late-night snack before heading to bed. As you wander down the ramen aisle, you almost bump into someone. You look up and see Seungcheol, his face so fucking swollen and hidden under a hood.

“What the fuck happened to your face?” you whisper, startled, clutching your snacks.

He scoffs, “What do you think? Been crying all weekend.”

You furrow your brows. “Seriously? You’ve been crying the whole time?”

“What do you think?” he repeats, more bitterly this time, grabbing a pack of ramen.

You both head to the cashier, the cashier glancing curiously at Seungcheol's disheveled appearance. As you walk towards the dorm buildings, it strikes you how funny you must look together—your party dress barely covering your ass, and his baggy 'I'm not going to see anyone I know' clothes.

“Man, if you’re going to show up looking like this tomorrow, you might as well ask to leave college for real,” you say, shaking your head.

He sighs, his voice weary. “I’m not going to drop out because of her.”

“Then stop crying,” you reply, exasperated.

He snaps at you, “What do you even know about it?”

You pause in your tracks and give him a hard stare. “While you were crying your eyes out all weekend, she was giving Jaehyun head in his car, like, minutes ago,” you say, your face contorting with disgust at the memory.

His eyes open wide. “She gave him head?! What a whore. She never even gave me a blowjob.” he mutters, more to himself than to you.

You raise an eyebrow, munching on your snack. “She never did? Seriously?”

He looks even more pissed, fists clenching at his sides. “I swear! And I always—never mind…” 

“Dude, you were crying over someone who’s not even worth it,” you say, shaking your head. “She’s obviously just using Jaehyun for popularity. She’s not worth your tears.”

He kicks a pebble on the sidewalk, the anger beaming off him. “I thought she loved me.” 

“Pfft! Clearly, she didn't,” you reply, shrugging. “She’s a social climber. She’ll do whatever it takes to get to the top.”

He looks at you, grabbing a handful of your snacks “You’re right. I’m done with her.” he mutters, chewing monstrously. Seungcheol frowns, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “How did you even know about that?”

“I was at the party,” you admit with a shrug.

He glances at you, taking in your outfit and the faint smell of feminine perfume mixed with alcohol. “Now it makes sense why you smell like that and why you’re dressed like this at 11 p.m. on a Sunday,” He glances down, taking in your party dress that’s riding high.

He recalls the moment in the convenience store when you bent down to grab some Takis from the bottom shelf, your ass almost completely exposed. He had glanced, unfortunately and quickly moved to stand behind you, rolling his eyes, blocking the cashier's view, who was wide-eyed and staring. 

“Man, I gotta tell you about all the crap I had to put up with.” he begins.

You listen attentively, craving some juicy gossip to cap off your weekend. He needed to vent, and you were going to end the day with some top-tier gossip. A win-win situation.

At his dorm, Seungcheol sits on his bed, and you are plopping down on the chair, eager to hear the tea.

“Can you believe she made me cancel our anniversary dinner because she wanted to go to some stupid party instead?” he says, shaking his head.

“No way!” you exclaim, licking Takis powder off your fingers, your eyes wide with interest.

He nods, exasperated. “Yeah, and she didn’t even tell me until the last minute. I had this whole thing planned, and she just ditched me.”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter, munching on another Takis. 

“And she always made me do her assignments. I spent countless nights writing essays for her while she was out partying.” 

“She did that?” you ask, genuinely shocked.

“Yep,” he sighs, moving restlessly on his bed. “And get this—she once made me wait for three hours outside her dorm because she was ‘getting ready.’ When she finally came out, she said she didn’t feel like going out anymore.”

“That’s insane!” you gasp, shaking your head in disbelief. “She’s the worst.”

“She really is,” he agrees. “And she never wanted to do anything I liked. It was always about her and what she wanted.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s because you’re too nice, Seungcheol. If it were me, I’d have shown up the next day in a mini skirt like this—” You make a gesture with your fingers, indicating something tiny, “—just to rub it in her face.”

He snorts, amused by the thought. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s different for a guy.”

“Maybe,” you reply, pausing as an idea strikes you. “Wait, do you have contact lenses? Or maybe a clipper?”

He looks confused. “What? Why?”

You step closer, gently moving his hair out of his forehead. “Because if you’re going to move on, you need a new look. Let’s start with this mess of hair.” 

He looks at you, confused. “You really think that’ll help?”

“Bro, trust me,” you say, determined. 

You walk around his room, rummaging through his things, looking for the clipper. Seungcheol sits on his bed, looking at you… Nervously. 

As you plug in the clipper, the buzzing sound fills the room. Seungcheol’s eyes widen in alarm. “You’re not going to make me bald, are you?”

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you remember who did the girls’ undercuts below their ponytails for last semester's game?”

His eyes light up in recognition. “That was you?”

You walk back smugly, opening your arms. “Yep, that was all me.”

As you begin cutting his hair, he starts talking again. “You know, she once told me that my glasses made me look like a nerd, and she hated it when I wore them in public.”

You roll your eyes. “Ya! That’s ridiculous. Your glasses suit you. But we can always get you contacts if you want a change.”

You skillfully give him an undercut, trimming his hair and revealing a fresh look. He looks at himself in the mirror, his forehead and thick eyebrows finally getting the attention they deserve. You help him with the contacts, and before you leave his dorm, you give him a final piece of advice.

“No sweaters,” you say firmly.

The next day, as you finish getting ready in your dorm, you hear a knock on the door. Opening it, you find Seungcheol standing there, looking surprisingly handsome in his new look.

“Look at you!” you exclaim, giving him a knowing smile and nodding for him to enter. As you finish getting ready, you ask, “What are you doing here?”

He shuffles his feet, looking a bit shy. “I don’t know, just felt weird going alone.” “You look healthy,” he says, his eyes taking in your appearance.

“Yeah, I took a bath,” you reply, deadpan. “You should try it sometime.”

He chuckles, the nervousness fading a bit. 

Together, you head towards the university building. As you walk beside him, you notice people glancing at him, some even doing double-takes. You stand proudly, shoulders squared, almost waving like a beauty queen.

As you and Seungcheol make your way down the hallway, you spot Minji in the middle of the corridor, surrounded by a group of people. Your eyes dart between her, Seungcheol, and Jaehyun, and you think to yourself that this moment is straight out of a movie. You almost wish you had popcorn to complete the scene.

You and Seungcheol walk closer, and you can see Minji's eyes light up as she spots him. She opens her mouth, probably ready to deliver some dramatic line or apology. 

But Seungcheol, simply ignores her and doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a glance. His chest puffed out slightly.

You take a fine distance from them, your jaw practically dropping in disbelief. “I can’t believe you actually did that, did you really just ignore her?” you ask, laughing.

Despite his impressive new look, Seungcheol didn’t end up mingling with the jock crowd as you might have expected. 

Instead, during recess, you spotted him from afar, sitting with his book club friends. The contrast was cute—here he was, looking like he could easily fit in with the jocks, but he chose to hang out with his old crew, surrounded by books and enthusiastic chat. He stayed true to his roots, hanging out with the people who truly mattered to him

He had the whole package—stylish haircut, fresh look, and yet, he was still the same Seungcheol. Still maintaining his original traits and habits.

The bell rings, signaling the end of classes, and you head towards the dorms, looking forward to a bit of downtime. Suddenly, you hear someone calling after you.

“Hey! Wait up!”

You turn to see Seungcheol jogging towards you, his new look making him stand out even more than before. He’s out of breath but manages a grin. “How can I show my appreciation for what you did?”

You wave him off with a smile. “You don’t need to do anything.”

He pouts, looking genuinely disappointed. “Come on, please!”

You roll your eyes, teasingly. “Calm down, nerd! Hmm, maybe just a beer or something?”

His face brightens at the suggestion. “Beer? That sounds perfect!”

You chuckle, shaking your head as you both start walking together.

As you and Seungcheol sit at a small corner table in the campus bar, nursing your beers, he takes a swig and shakes his head in disbelief.

“I can’t believe I’m drinking on a Monday,” he says, looking at his beer as if it might somehow magically make the week less mundane.

You laugh, leaning back in your chair. “Sometimes it feels like drinking just becomes a part of the routine. It’s like college fucks you up so much that you need these little escapes to keep your sanity.”

Seungcheol nods in agreement, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, it’s kind of messed up how we end up just normalizing this stuff.”

You both sip in comfortable silence for a moment before he glances at his phone, scrolling through a chat. “Oh, hey, look at this,” he says.

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”

He shows you a photo on his phone. It’s from the party you were at on Sunday—Minji inside Jaehyun’s car, Minji’s head is down, clearly giving him a blowjob, and Jaehyun’s face is smug. Your face scrunches up in disgust as you look at it.

“Ugh, yeah, that’s what I saw,” you say, cringing. “I didn’t want to think about it again.”

Seungcheol sighs heavily. “It’s just... seeing that, after everything that happened, it’s like she’s moved on and I’m left here...”

You take a deep breath, considering his frustration. “Yeah, I get it. It’s a shitty situation.”

He looks at you. “You know, I never really got why she never... I mean, she never did that for me. Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

You blink, taken aback by his confession. “She has never given you a blowjob? You were serious then?”

Seungcheol nods, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, and now seeing her do it for Jaehyun... it just feels like a slap in the face.”

You sip your beer, thinking it over. The whole situation has him worked up, and you can’t help but feel a bit sympathetic. 

“Damn, that’s rough. I can see why you’d be so pissed.”

“it’s like, she was so willing to do it with Jaehyun, but never with me,” he says, clearly frustrated.

“Well, now you know,” you say, a bit smugly. “She was obviously saving that for Jaehyun.”

He looks down at his beer, indeed annoyed. “Yeah, she was a piece of work. I guess I should have seen it coming.”

“Well, we could always find a way to have some fun and blow off steam. I’m sure there’s a way to make you forget about Minji’s bullshit.”

Seungcheol’s eyes narrow with curiosity. “Like what?”

“I’m sure we could figure something out. Maybe even something you’ve been wanting for a while.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Oh really? And what’s that?”

You lean in even closer, your voice barely a whisper. “Let’s just say, I know a thing or two about making someone forget their ex and feel a lot better. Are you interested?”

You smirk, is he acting, or he's that bad at catching hints?

He looks at you, catching the hint. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

You grin, leaning in a bit closer. “Depends on what you think I’m saying.”

He blushes slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “Careful, Y/N. You’re making it sound like you’re fishing for something specific.”

“Maybe I am. Just putting it out there.” you shrug.

“Are you serious? Stop playin' with me.”

“I'm dead serious.”

He looks at you, contemplating the offer. “You know what? Let’s do it.”

You can't quite pinpoint if it's the alcohol working its magic, loosening up inhibitions, or if it’s just the chemistry between you and Seungcheol, but his attempts at flirting are hitting all the right notes. There’s a certain charm to the way he’s leaning closer, trying to gauge your reactions with every word he says.

He takes a sip of his beer, his eyes meeting yours. “You know,” he starts, his voice a bit slurred, “I’ve always admired how you can just say whatever you want.”

You laugh softly, leaning in to match his tone. “Oh really? And what else do you admire?”

He smiles, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, for starters, your confidence. And the way you’re not afraid to call me out. It’s actually pretty sexy.”

The alcohol seems to be giving him a boldness you’ve never seen before. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face a bit clumsy.

“You’re drunk,” you tease, though you can’t deny the flutter of excitement his touch brings.

“Maybe,” he admits, his gaze lingering on your lips. “But I’m not too drunk to know when something feels right.”

“Seungcheol,” you say softly, trying to keep things light but feeling a pull towards him, “are you sure you want to go down this road?”

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

[...]

The scent of your dorm—so unmistakably you—fills Seungcheol's senses, making him harder than ever. As he stands before you, your naked form on your knees, your hand between your legs touching your throbbing clit, and the sight of you looking up at him with hunger in your eyes, it’s enough to make his head spin.

You stroke his cock with one hand, licking your lips like you’re about to devour him. 

His cheeks are flushed, maybe from the alcohol, maybe from the very embarrassment of the situation. He bites his bottom lip, eyes wide with anticipation, his cock starting to ache with need. The handjob you’re giving him is good, but it’s not nearly enough.

“Fuck, you’re so hard,” you murmur, your voice dripping with lust. You can feel his cock twitching in your hand, the head sticky with precum.

He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes glued to the sight of your hand moving up and down his shaft. 

You lean in, your tongue flicking out to taste the precum at the tip of his cock. The salty, slightly bitter taste coats your tongue, and you hum appreciatively, savoring the flavor. Seungcheol's breath hitches, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.

“Oh, fuck!” he groans, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

You smile up at him, loving his reaction. You want this to be memorable, to engrave this moment into his mind permanently. You give the head of his cock a few teasing licks before enveloping your lips around it. 

“Holy shit, Y/N!” he groans, his voice ragged. As you slide your mouth further down, taking him deeper, his body curls inward, every muscle tensing. It’s like you’re sucking every ounce of energy from him, and he can barely stand it. Your mouth is so wet, so warm, and you look so devoted, so gorgeous.

You look up at him through your lashes, seeing the absolute ecstasy on his face. You’re dedicated, giving all of yourself to make this perfect for him. You bob your head, sucking him deeper, your cheeks hollowing with the effort. Your tongue works along his length, swirling around the tip before you take him in again.

Seungcheol’s efforts to hold back his moans crumble. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so good,” he whimpers, his voice loaded with desperation. He grips your hair, not to control but to anchor himself, as his arms on the bed threaten to give out.

You hum around his cock, the vibrations making him shudder. You suck harder, your hand stroking the base of his shaft in beat with your mouth. You can feel him throbbing against your tongue, his neediness evident in every spasm and moan.

His moans become louder, more ragged, filling the room. The sound of his pleasure fuels your horniness, and you touch yourself more frantically, your fingers rubbing your clit in time with the movements of your mouth. You’re giving him everything, and you love the way he’s falling apart above you.

“Y/N, I’m so close,” he chokes out whiny. “I can’t… I can’t hold it…”

You look up at him, and suck him even harder, your mouth sliding up and down his length faster. You want to push him over the edge, to give him the orgasm he so desperately needs. Your hand strokes his shaft with more speed, your mouth working tirelessly.

You can't believe that Minji never gave Seungcheol a blowjob. Just the sight of his cock is almost enough to make you cum. With your hand still slick from touching yourself, you grab the base of his shaft and take him as deep as you can, sinking him down your throat. 

You hold him there for some seconds, feeling the tears from your gag reflex forming. When you pull back, you see him nearly losing his balance.

Determined to make this unforgettable, you’re willing to suck his very soul out if it means you get to see his face as he cums and hear those incredible moans from him.

Seungcheol’s body tenses, his muscles locking up as the pleasure becomes too much to bear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cries out.

Seungcheol’s entire body convulses, his hips jerking uncontrollably as you milk every drop from him. His eyes roll back, and he lets out a guttural moan, the sound of someone utterly lost in pleasure. You keep sucking him gently, drawing out his orgasm, until he’s left trembling and spent.

When you finally release him, Seungcheol collapses onto the bed, needing to lay down to recover. 

You laugh softly, brushing your fingers through his hair, feeling a rush of pride at the look of utter bliss on his face. His eyes flutter open, and he smiles so wide it makes your heart swell.

He sits up slightly, his hand wrapping around your throat. He grips you gently, his thumb brushing over your skin. You’re caught off guard when he leans in, not giving you just a peck, but sliding his tongue into your mouth. You thought he might find it weird after cumming in your mouth, but he does it without hesitation, moaning at the taste.

You can feel your pussy immediately dripping onto the sheets. His kiss is hungry, filled with gratitude and lingering fascination, and you kiss him back just as fervently, your hands tangling in his hair.

When you finally pull away, you both are breathing heavily.

“Damn, Y/N,” he bites his bottom lip. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”

Seungcheol's eyes roam over your body, and you can see the determination in his gaze. He wants to pay you back, to show you what he can do. Gently, he lifts you onto the bed, laying you down. He positions himself between your legs, his stomach pressed against the mattress. You hear him hiss slightly as his sensitive dick makes contact with the sheets, but his focus remains on you.

“I’ve been studying up on this, Y/N,” he says with a proud smile, like he’s presenting a perfect exam result. “Time to show you what I’ve learned.”

He starts by kissing your inner thighs, his lips soft and teasing against your skin. You shiver, your breath hitching in tension. When his mouth finally reaches your pussy, he doesn't hesitate. His tongue darts out, tasting you for the first time, and he lets out a low, appreciative hum.

“You taste so good,” he says, almost to himself, before diving in.

He licks a long, slow stripe up your slit, his tongue parting your folds and flicking over your clit. You moan, your hips twitching involuntarily. Seungcheol’s hands grip your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he starts to work his tongue with more ambition.

His tongue encircles your clit, teasing and tormenting, before he sucks it into his mouth, creating a delicious pressure that makes you gasp. He alternates between sucking and licking, his mouth hot and insistent. 

You can hear the wet sounds of his mouth on you, mingling with your moans, and it’s driving you even more soaked.

“Oh god, Seungcheol, that feels so good,” you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on. “You’re so good at this, nerd.” you smile looking at him.

He looks up at you eyes light up at the praise. “You like that?” he asks, his voice muffled against your pussy.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” you plead.

He continues to be concentrated on you, his eyes sharp and focused, studying every reaction. His tongue flicks over your clit, and your hips buck against his mouth. He smiles against you, clearly pleased with your response.

Seungcheol grins and shifts slightly, bringing his fingers into play. He teases your entrance with one finger before slowly pushing it inside you, curling it just right to hit that sweet spot—finding it embarrassingly fast. You shout, your back arching off the bed.

“Fuck, Seungcheol, just like that,” you pant, your hips grinding against his face.

He adds a second finger, pumping them in and out of you while his mouth continues its assault on your clit. The combination is mind-blowing, and you can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. His fingers twist and curl inside you, like they're calling you, pressing against your sweet spot, and your moans become louder, more desperate.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs.. “I can feel you clenching around my fingers.”

“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you beg, your thighs squeezing around his head. 

You feel a bit guilty for trapping him like this, but Seungcheol looks delighted, his thick eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he reads every reaction from your body.

He flicks his tongue over your clit in a rapid, persistent move, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm. The wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of you, combined with the slick noises from his mouth, are almost obscene, but they only heighten your arousal.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you gasp, your voice breaking. “Don’t stop, Seungcheol, please.”

He doesn’t let up, his tongue and fingers working you with a preciseness that makes your head spin. You can feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, ready to snap.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m cumming!” you cry out, your body shuddering violently as the orgasm rips through you.

Seungcheol keeps going, drawing out your orgasm, his fingers curling and his tongue flicking relentlessly. Your moans are loud and broken, your hips grinding against his face as you moan vulgarly, your chest rising as you soak his mouth and face. 

Your body convulses, your thighs squeezing him even tighter, and you scream his name, your voice echoing in the room. He continues to lick and finger you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you’re left shaking and breathless.

Finally, he pulls back, his face shining with your arousal, a pleased smile on his lips. “How was that?”

Your body is still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, and all you can manage is a breathless moan, your hands smudging your face as you try to collect yourself. Seungcheol laughs softly at your reaction.

“I don’t know if I can ride you right now,” you admit, your voice shaking. “I’m still trembling.”

He smirks, a naughty glint in his eyes. “Who said anything about you riding me? I can fuck you just as good, just lay back and let me take care of you.”

The promise in his words makes you clench, and you nod, eager to feel him inside you. He positions himself between your legs, his cock hard and ready. As he lines himself up with your entrance, you can’t help but gasp at the sight of his size.

When he finally pushes inside you, the stretch is both breathless and blissful. His cock fills you completely, the sensation intensified by how wet you are. Your body welcomes him, and he slides in easily, the friction making you moan loudly.

“Oh god, Seungcheol, just like that!” you breathe out, your hands gripping his shoulders.

He lowers his head, his lips brushing against your neck as he begins to move. His kisses are surprisingly sweet for the roughness of his thrusts, and you find the contrast and incredibly hot.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he moans, his thrusts becoming more urgent. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more and more.

“Fuck me like you mean it.” you grit through your teeth. 

Seungcheol’s eyes blacken, and he grips your hips, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. You cry out, your head falling back against the pillow, your body jiggling with each strong movement.

 “I’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name,” he promises, and you know he means it.

His thrusts become relentless, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you, your eyes watering. Your moans turn into cries, your mind going blank with pleasure. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and you cling to him, needing him closer.

“Seungcheol, I’m gonna—”

The sudden sound of Seungcheol’s phone ringing startles both of you. “Fuck... no,” he mutters, pulling out of you reluctantly. You almost swallow a sob, your orgasm fading away.

"Answer it," you tell him, your voice steady despite your frustration.

He looks at the caller ID, his face contorting in disgust. "Minji," he says, showing the screen to you. You wave your hand, signaling for him to answer. He does, putting the call on speaker. The fact that he's not hiding it, that he wants you to hear, that he doesn't have a problem with it, is unexpectedly hot.

“Seungcheol?” You roll your eyes at her voice.

“Yeah?” he replies, his tone short and uninterested.

“I... I wanted to talk. Can we meet up?” she asks, her voice faltering.

You sit up silently, your mind racing. Seungcheol answers her shortly, clearly wanting to hang up. As he talks, you get an idea. You crawl over to him, your eyes locked on his as you straddle his lap, your breasts pressing against his face. 

He looks up at you, confused.

“What are you doing?” he whispers, his breath hitching.

“Seungcheol, are you listening to me?” Minji’s voice is impatient, and he can't answer.

You just smile, grabbing his cock and sliding it back inside you as his face contorts in silence, jaw slack as he looks inside your eyes. He bites his lip, trying to stifle a moan as you begin to move, slowly at first, then faster, circling your hips around him.

“Seungcheol? Are you there?” She asks, sounding more desperate now.

He tries to answer, but you start moving, slowly at first, then picking up the pace.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he replies, his voice strained. He places a hand on your hip, trying to steady you as you ride him.

“What are you doing?” her voice cuts through the tension, suspicion clear.

You moan slyly, loudly, not even needing to force it. “Oh, Seungcheol,” you purr, the sound sending a cold lick down his spine. He can't help but moan too, his resolve breaking.

Minji’s voice rises in panic. “Seungcheol, what’s going on? Who’s there with you?”

He can’t help but moan too, gripping your hips tighter. “Don’t talk to me anymore, Minji,” he says, his voice strained with pleasure.

“What the hell is happening? Who is that?!” She's furious.

Seungcheol’s hands grip your hips, his body shuddering with each thrust. “Y/N... I can’t...”

“Just a little more,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss his neck. “Let her hear how good I make you feel.”

He groans, unable to hold back any longer. “Minji, I’m fucking done with you,” he says, his voice shaking. “Don’t call me again!”

You moan again, louder this time, and Seungcheol echoes your sound, his head falling back. 

The call disconnects abruptly, but you don’t stop. 

You ride him harder, feeling him throb inside you, his body tensing as he reaches his peak.

“Y/N, I’m gonna—” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss, swallowing his moans as he comes, his release sending you over the edge as well.

Seungcheol throws the phone aside with a decisive flick of his wrist, his focus entirely on you now—not that he stopped, his mind was imploring for you every second. 

He grips your hips firmly, handling you on his lap with a possessive, almost primal passion, like you’re a fucking doll. The strength of his arms moving you on his lap, makes you gasp, and you abruptly pull away from the kiss, your hand flying to your mouth in a futile attempt to suppress your scream.

It doesn’t work. 

The sound that escapes you is raw and unfiltered—a high-pitched scream that echoes off the walls of the dorm room. You’re cumming all over his cock, your cum spilling over onto his balls and pelvis, the wetness spreading in a deliciously messy explosion.

Seungcheol’s grip tightens, his breathing ragged as he feels the lock of your orgasm. He’s fighting his own demons to keep his eyes open, the pleasure so harsh that it’s almost too much to endure. His eyes are locked on yours, and you see the struggle written all over his face.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, his voice wasted with overstimulation. His moves become more desperate, desperate to feel every inch of you.

Your body shakes uncontrollably, every muscle tensed as you fight to keep your eyes open, to stay grounded in the moment. You feel the room spinning, the pleasure so intense that it’s almost blinding. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you struggle to stay upright.

You collapse against Seungcheol. He pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a protective, almost desperate grip. Despite his own wavering strength, his desire to hold and shield you is real, overshadowing any fatigue he might be feeling.

With the last of your strength, you gently pull his cock out of you, your movements sluggish. You remain close, still wrapped around him, feeling the warmth and softness of his body against yours. The sensation of his cock slipping free leaves a trail of dampness between you, your orgasms dripping onto his pelvis and the sheets beneath you.

Seungcheol shudders as he feels the wetness spreading across his skin. The soaked feeling on his pelvis, combined with the aftershocks of your orgasm, makes him groan softly. His hands are still firmly clasped around you, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we just did that while Minji was on the phone.”

You chuckle softly, your exhaustion making your laugh feel weak but genuine. 

Seungcheol lets out a rueful laugh. “I was trying so hard to keep it together while she was talking, and here you are, riding me like there’s no tomorrow.”

You raise an eyebrow playfully. “So, what did she hear exactly? Did she get the full experience or just a taste?”

Seungcheol grins, his cheeks flushing a bit. “Oh, she heard more than a taste. I was trying to get her off the line quickly, but with you going at it like that, I think she caught on pretty fast. She definitely knew something was up.”

“And now she’s probably going to think you’re a total jerk for just hanging up on her like that.”

“To be honest, I was so caught up in how good you were making me feel that I couldn’t even process what she was saying. All I could think about was you.”

The next morning is a whirlwind of frantic activity and poorly disguised attempts to cover up the previous night's larks. As you glance in the mirror, you notice the indicative signs of sex: red, blossoming hickeys on your neck that stubbornly refuse to be concealed. You grab your concealer and try your best to dab and blend, but the more you work, the more obvious it seems.

Seungcheol, on the other hand, is in an equally frantic state. He’s darting around his dorm room, desperately scrubbing away any remaining proof of the night before. He’s juggling a toothbrush in his mouth while trying to hide the hickeys with his hoodie. He eventually settles on a high-collared shirt that looks formal and slightly out of place for a morning class, but it gets the job done.

You rush out of your dorm, barely managing to grab your things before heading to your first class. The entire way there, you catch glimpses of yourself in shop windows and mirrors, each time cringing at how you might still look too happy, too satisfied.

Seungcheol is nearly out of breath by the time he arrives at the hallways, his face flushed—not entirely from exertion, you suspect.

“Did you manage to get rid of all the hickeys?” Seungcheol whispers walking on your side suddenly, as he tries to adjust his collar without drawing too much attention.

“Not even close,” you reply with a wry smile. “I’m basically wearing a turtleneck now, but it’s not foolproof.”

He laughs, a bit too loudly given the circumstances. “Well, at least we look like we’re going somewhere fancy. If anyone asks, just say it’s a new fashion statement.”

You snicker, shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s going to work. I’m just hoping people don’t look too closely.”

As you both ascend the stairs to your respective classes, the early morning hustle is almost forgotten when Seungcheol suddenly grabs your wrist, his eyes darting around to ensure no one is watching. 

The empty stairwell is the perfect backdrop for his next move.

Before you can react, Seungcheol leans in and steals a quick, tender peck from your lips. The unexpected kiss surprises you, and a smile instantly lights up your face. You respond with another, slightly longer kiss.

You pull back slightly, looking at him with a playful glint in your eye. “So, what about tonight?” you ask slyly.

Seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Huh?”

You make a theatrical gesture with your hand, tracing a path up and down to your cheek, poking your cheek with your tongue, mimicking the motion of sucking him off. Your naughty movement is clear and provocative.  

Seungcheol's face flushes instantly, his eyes widening as he processes your meaning.

He bites his lip, his eyes locking onto yours with a glint of playful defiance. With a teasing smirk, he lifts his middle fingers, licking them exaggeratedly before curling them inward, making the motion unmistakably obscene.

“Something like this?” he asks, his voice sultry, his eyes never leaving yours. “Think you can handle it tonight?”

You can't help but be taken aback by Seungcheol's bold gesture, your jaw falling slack in surprise. 

“Meet me at the storage room,” you murmur, urgent. “You’re going to finger me there.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widen. “The storage room?” he repeats, his voice a quiet, thrilled whisper, his breath catching slightly.

He thinks then gives you a quick, eager nod, the hint of a smile playing at his lips.

“Sure thing,” he continues. “Can’t wait.”

A birthday one-shot to my cutie pie hahaha 29 years old—I'm crying n'shit. 😭🥺❤️

[mostly-imagines]

There’s A String Tied to My Lower Left Rib, Third From The Bottom

dick grayson x afab!reader

aka the professional boyfriend

warnings: she/her pronouns used, reader wears dresses, sexual content at the end (18+)

Dick Grayson is a vigilante. He’s a master martial artist and gymnast. He’s something of a playboy and a heavy flirt. But the claim he really takes pride in is that he’s basically a professional boyfriend. That he’s your professional boyfriend.

And pride really is the right word. He’s so proud that he gets to have this pretty girl on his arm and buy her pretty things even when you insist you have enough. He loves getting to help you take your makeup off when you’re too tired and make you laugh like it’s his job. He’s absolutely gratified that he gets to be your prodigal, sweet boyfriend that, despite your protests, insisted on carrying all five of your shopping bags for you.

You step over an uneven stretch in the sidewalk and lean slightly against Dick’s shoulder. “I’m worried the navy one is too…much.” You say, thinking back to how the blue cocktail dress fit on you, how it stopped barely below your ass.

He furrows his eyebrows with a pout, “Too much?”

You look over at him, matching his expression. “It’s really short. I mean it’s cute and I like it, but…I don’t know, this is kind of a fancy event isn’t it?” 

He puckers his lips, shaking his head. “Short’s good. I like short.” Yeah, you’d noticed with the way his eyes had been glued to the hem of your dress, willing it to slip up just a little more.

You laugh, “And I’m sure you and all the old businessmen will appreciate it greatly.”

His face drops at that, not thrilled at the prospect of those, usually very sleazy, old men getting to see so much of you. “The black one’s good too.”

You peer over into one of the bags, “Or there’s the red one with the—”

Dick shakes his head quickly, “Not red.”

You snicker at that, knowing full well what his problem is with it. “Then why did I get it?”

“Just for me.” He pauses, “Or for something my brother won’t be at.” He mumbles, scanning both sides of the street. He shuffles the bags in his right hand onto his forearm so he can take your hand in his as you step into the road. “No, the black one looked great on you. And we won’t have to go searching for a matching tie.” 

Once you reach the other side he lets go of your hand and he circles behind you, nudging you over to the inside of the sidewalk.

You glance down at the row of bags littering his arms and the red indents beginning to mark his skin. “Will you please let me hold some?” You frown.

“Will you please hold my hand?” He echoes, matching your serious tone with faux urgency of his own. You deadpan him but take his hand anyway. You don’t notice it, but he’s got a dedicated gaze focused on your fingers intertwined in his.

You continue on down the street, hand in hand, the warm sun shining on your necks. You pick up the pace a bit as you approach your apartment building, aiming to get the door for your boyfriend. You reach for the handle only for Dick to call out, “Don’t touch that!” followed by him clamoring like you’re about to touch a hot coal, rushing over to beat you to the punch.

“Oh my god..” you mumble to yourself, biting back a smile. The bags haphazardly fall further down his arms, no doubt uncomfortably as he pulls the door open for you, pretending to be far more eloquent than he actually was. He gestures you in and smiles sweetly at you when you give him a flat look. 

“What is wrong with you?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at him with amusement glittering across your face as you dig for your keys.

“Not a thing.” He grins, watching with adoration as you open the apartment door. Frankly, you’re surprised he didn’t attempt to juggle the bags and unlock the door himself.

He kicks the door shut behind him as you help slide the bags off of his wrists, piling them on the counter. “When do we need to leave?”

“Uh…” he glances at the wall clock, “Not till seven.” He places his hands nicely on your waist, looking down at your lips. “You wanna get something to eat before we go?”

You muse, “This is the one with those mini stakes, isn’t it?” He nods. “No, I wanna get my fill on those. Oh, and the bruschettas! I love these caterers.”

His eyes flicker back up to meet yours, a sly smile playing on his lips. 

You break away from his gaze and turn to the counter, preparing to scoop the shopping bags up when you’re interrupted by his relentless fervor.

“Ah, ah.” He hooks a finger into the loop of your jeans, tugging you back to him. “Give me a kiss.” 

“Dick.”

“Just one.” Yeah, right. You oblige him though, pushing up on your toes to meet his lips. His thumb strokes your cheek as he kisses you deeply. You break the kiss after a moment only for him to chase your lips to follow it up with another. And then another. And another. He hums against your lips, smiling wide. “Thank you, baby.”

You pull back again and smile as you stop his chest with your hand when he follows. “Ah, I’m not new around here. I know where this’ll go if I let you.”

He nods complaisantly, “Then let me.” His eyes are focused on the small space between you, where his touch lingers along your ring finger. You lean up again and place a kiss on his forehead that has him getting hopeful, only to be met with disappointment when you back away from him, bags in hand. He throws his head back with a groan just to really hammer home the severity of his dismay.  

It doesn’t last too long though because the second you’re back in the room he’s trailing after you like a puppy, following you down to the couch. You roll your eyes at him when he opts to sit ridiculously close to you, though there’s a ghost of a smile on your lips that makes your act lose all credibility.   

He nestles his face into the crook of your neck and is clearly very pleased when you wrap your arms around his shoulders. You exhale contentedly, resting your cheek against his head. You lie idle like that for a few minutes, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and casting a daydreaming gaze out the window. And apparently, he was daydreaming too. 

“I wanna marry you.” He murmurs into your neck after a while. 

You laugh incredulously, “Have you been drinking when I have my back turned?”

“‘M serious.” He nudges you off him so he can look at you.

You hum, sweeping his hair back from his forehead. “You’re being very…” you scrunch up your mouth to the side, “…Ostentatious today.” 

He barks out a laugh, “Wow. Word-A-Day teach you that one?”

You shove at his forehead back with no real force, biting back a giggle. His eyes flicker back and forth between your mouth and the crinkle in your eyes as he grins. “I’m going to let that one go because you got me some really nice clothes today. As your repayment.” you say, running your finger over his lips. 

He takes your hand, pressing a firm kiss to it. “Let me marry you?” 

You sigh bashfully, “Dick—”

“Please?” He sticks his bottom lip out and gives you his puppy eyes, causing you to avert your gaze quickly. You’re not convinced he doesn’t have a superpower in that area.

You know he’s not really proposing right now, he’s too much of a romantic to do it like this. He’s just getting the idea in your head, getting you excited about it. It’s working.

“I’d be such a good husband to you.” He kisses your collarbone, “So good.” He murmurs against your skin, lips never departing. You struggle to keep your face neutral, making a point of closing your eyes in an attempt to increase your odds of success. He’s being nice though, you know. To let you play pretend right now when you know he could break your facade in a second if he really wanted to.  

“Mrs. Grayson…” he squeezes your hips, lips traveling further down. “Doesn’t that sound pretty?”

It really does. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about marrying him before. He’s nothing if not husband material and honestly you really really want to hear him call you his wife. Call him your husband.

Your hand moves to his hair, petting it softly as he goes on. “Buy you a nice ring. Pretty white dress ‘n a big party just for you.” He brushes your shirt up and trails open mouthed kisses down your stomach. Your chest feels warm and you can feel your pulse thrumming all throughout your body.

He slowly guides your underwear down your thighs, his lips following the hem close behind. “Come home to you every night, kiss these pretty thighs,” He scoops both of your hands up in one of his, pinning them to your stomach. “Kiss this pretty pussy.” He places a chaste kiss on your clit and looks up at you expectantly.

You’re not nearly as hesitant on this as you’re pretending to be, and you both know it. But he’s perfectly fine with begging a little while you pretend you’re not lightheaded at the idea of marrying him. “I’ll think about it…” 

He grins at you before going in on your core without mercy.

He’s trying real hard to land that promotion.

🩵 reblogging = supporting; likes don’t do the job

[shotmrmiller]

(Unnamed for now, 4.8k words of nothing but self indulgence because ex bf simon is king. just porn without plot, the usual filth. also i wrote myself into a hole with the smut but whatever.)

If your friends knew that you'd gone to great lengths to look presentable— less cave-dweller, more human— hoping to get lucky tonight only to end up waving off anyone of interest because you're too busy sulking about a relationship you willingly broke off, they'd kick you from the group chat.

(Or never let you live it down.)

But here you are, perched on a barstool, its cracked leather slightly sticky beneath your legs, the cocktail you'd ordered a while ago sitting mostly untouched on an even stickier bar top. Lamenting. Moping all over a guy who hasn't bothered to return a single phone call since you left him the voicemail. And it hadn't been his fault, really. He'd been upfront with you from the get-go; he's a busy man with a job you don't want to know about and are safer not knowing about.

You'd noticed the specific wording he'd used. Not better off but safer off, its implications perilous. The hardened look he'd given you when you'd pressed him on it, hoping for a slip of the truth, had been the first and only warning you'd needed.

Get off his case, understood.

You clench your teeth, irritation nipping at your nerves. You'd like to think that you've mourned this ex-relationship plenty and feeling an acute, smoldering ache again over a whisper of a memory (and not even a fond one at that)—

Time to douse these flames.

Waving the bartender down, you push away the watered-down drink and gesture for a shot. She eyes you warily, hesitating for a moment before sliding an empty glass over and reaching for some top-shelf bottle your bank account already feels the bite of. The fiery burn that courses down your throat resembles the one in your chest.

The alcohol swiftly does its job, offering a sense of relief, and you're grateful for it, even if fleeting. The room starts to blur a bit, the strobing lights overhead bleeding together like a watercolor painting left out in the rain, and you let yourself sink into the moment, the gentle ebb of intoxication pooling heat in your cheeks, warmth seeping into your limbs.

Things don't look so bad now; the world has taken a dreamlike quality to it, with softened edges and vibrant colors. With the liquid courage dulling the sharpness of your previous thoughts and easing the tension in your shoulders, you reckon that now you can start looking for your prey of the evening. It's why you even bothered to slink out of your comfort zone in the first place.

Mission directive: Get laid. Or plan B: go home with a new number saved in your contacts.

You rest your chin on your palm, eyes lazily scanning around the room, taking in the hazy but lively atmosphere. The dance floor is a whirl of energy, couples moving to the rhythm of the music, a group of friends huddling in a corner, hands gesturing animatedly as they chat each other up, and at the front—

If you swiveled away in your chair any faster, the courage you'd knocked back 10 minutes ago would come back up, spilling onto the bar top the barkeep gave up trying to keep clean. There have been numerous instances where your mind plays tricks on you, teasing you with glimpses of big and blonde in your peripheral while out running errands, the miserable lump in your throat only dislodging once you've made your grand escape.

(It's not running away; It's a tactical retreat. You'll face the music when it's less deafening.)

And in keeping with tradition, you settle your tab and scurry off to the bathroom, clutching your bag like a lifeline. A familiar shadow just walked in through the front door, once again haunting you. No matter how many times you whisper reassurances under your breath, dismissing it as a cruel joke your mind loves to play, the semblance of him never fails to arouse a bit of panic in you.

The trip to the bathroom feels like you're trekking across the country, weaving in and out and around crowds of people, dodging flailing limbs like an extreme sport. The inside is relatively small and cramped; three stalls for the entire bar. It's blessedly empty, so you beeline to the sink, hoping for a splash of cold water to settle your nerves.

The water is startlingly cold, or maybe it feels colder because you're flustered, and you're mid air-drying your hands when you hear it: that unforgettable gait, heavy and solid, like a tank rolling over rugged terrain. It's something that you can still hear echo in the small confines of your flat when the world is quiet. The mirror in front reflects your tense face, its edges cloudy with time and poor-quality cleaning solutions.

Get a grip, you're losing it.

Until the door swings wide, hinges screeching as it gives way with no resistance, and you realize that you're not losing it. But you just might.

"'Ello, poppet."

Incredulity forces a chuckle out of you because it's either you laugh or you cry.

"Nice," he eyes the cracked tile beneath your feet, "choice for a night out. Beer's more piss than ale, though." The door closes behind him.

The mockery in his voice is wildly unwarranted, especially for a man you haven't heard from for a better part of the year, and you finally gather your wits to bite back indignantly.

"What? It's not your cuppa? I always assumed you ratted out in seedy holes like this." The bruise-tight grip you've got around your bag makes your fingers ache. "I'll be sure to pick a more refined place for you next time."

He wastes no time closing the gap between you two, your three steps back negated by his single one with laughable ease, and the space around you seems to shrink, his presence swallowing it whole. You'd forgotten just how large a man he was— is.

A different beast altogether.

"No need. We won't be comin' back 'ere again." Your brows quirked at that. He's gone and learned French, apparently. Oui. You try to keep your personal bubble intact by taking another step back only to come in contact with a stall door, its chilly surface forcing your spine rigid. Cornered, caught in the crosshairs of the hunter's gaze, and the intensity of it makes you feel vulnerable, bare, as if you're staring up the barrel of a loaded gun.

"Easy, lovie, no need to look at me like tha', 'm jus' 'ere to talk," he says with a tone that's tinged with condescension, and his giant mitts are up and palms facing you like he's dealing with a skittish animal. There's a thought there, buried deep, that you refuse to acknowledge.

"Talk?" The question bursts out before you can stop it, followed by a sardonic laugh that feels unexpectedly cathartic as it leaves your mouth. Talk now, when you not only kept your line of communication open but also actively tried reaching out for weeks? Weeks spent waiting for a response, foolishly hoping he'd give a damn enough to at least put up a fight for you and what you had?

He tilts his head slightly, eyes unreadable. "Better late than never," he remarks, but that's the problem, isn't it? You were forced to come to terms with never, whether you liked it or not. And you had not liked it, but it had been necessary. To know there was a part of his life you weren't welcome to, regardless of reason, was something that shadowed your interactions. The realization that you were kept at arm's length due to the duality of his life was too bitter a pill to swallow.

It'd been a painful process making peace with the fact that maybe things just hadn't been meant to be. C'est la vie and all that tripe. But now, here he stands before you, having materialized out of thin air, a bloody intrusion upon the fragile peace you've built for yourself— it feels like a mockery of the emotional distress you've had to endure.

"Better late than—? You honestly fucking think you can just," you stumble over yourself in disbelief, "just corner me in a tiny bathroom of a dingy bar to talk?"

Simon raises one bulky shoulder, unconcerned. "You chose the place."

His piss poor attempt at a joke is like a slap in the face. "Right. Goodbye, Simon." You step around him briskly, your arm brushing against his. Just as your fingers graze the cold metal of the door handle, his encircle your wrist and gently pull you away. The span of his palm could easily engulf the entirety of your hand, and you can't help but wonder if you're as delicate and fragile as you feel in his grasp.

"Let me try that again," he murmurs tentatively, and you curse your good nature— the one that's always been too quick to soften even when you know better. You know just how clumsy he is with words, how his tongue ties itself in knots when emotions creep into the conversation. Simon gives your wrist a tender squeeze. "Ya can leave whenever you want."

Damn it. Damn it. Fine. This confrontation has been a long time coming anyway. "Then try again and make it fast," you snap, words short and clipped. "How we haven't been kicked out of here yet is a bloody wonder."

He steps away from you and leans his hips against the sink, arms crossed over his chest. Here Simon stands, no longer a hazy apparition in the corner of your eye but fully here. Real. Uncomfortable so. You shift your weight from one foot to the other.

"Didn't mean to disappear on ya," his tone carries a note of something resembling regret. "Work took me across the world, couldn't reach out t'you even if I wanted to." And there it is, the crux of the problem. His job. Always his job. The one part of his life you've never been allowed to see, what had been the ever-constant shadow hanging over your relationship. What tore him away from you for weeks at a time only for those same gaps to start getting longer and longer while his stays grew shorter.

That's not good enough.

"So that's it?" Simon cannot honestly expect you to take his paltry excuse and run with it. As if it's enough to stitch together the wound his silence left behind. "Work? That's what you're going with?" It's the audacity that stings the most, the hope that you'd simply accept it and move past all of this heartache.

For all you know, he could be lying through his teeth, spinning enough truth to make it seem believable. You must have your suspicions plastered on your forehead because Simon peels himself off the sink with a sharp breath and narrowed eyes.

"'M many things, love, but a liar ain't one of 'em." His hand disappears into the front pocket of his worn denims, and when he pulls it free, you instantly recognize the tattered, frayed edges of his wallet. Still clinging to life, it seems. As stubborn as the man holding it. He opens it and extends it to you because it's imperative you see...?

"Work." And right there is an ID, not your plain old driver's license, which you're unsurprised to see absent. The man has no business being behind the wheel of any vehicle; he's a threat to all life and limb while on the road— but a military ID, the insignia emblazoned on the card unmistakable. You'd pieced together as much but never fully assumed, never formed a picture, just a blurred outline that left more questions than answers.

Name: Simon Riley. Rank: Lieutenant. Special Forces is right above the square where a photo is supposed to be. "There's no picture." You flash your eyes up at his in question.

"Never," he states.

You swallow thickly. An admission, this is. A roughly hewn olive branch tucked away in the ratty wallet you'd told him to toss ages ago. He snaps it shut with a practiced flick and then rucks up the right sleeve of his jacket up to the crook of his elbows, exposing his forearm, stark and freckled, the skin pale but then closer to his wrist, his flesh taking on a more golden hue— honeyed, sun-kissed.

Simon Riley does not tan.

"Sat on my arse out in a barren stretch o' land f'r months on end, cookin' under the blazin' sun while waitin' for orders tha' never came," he grumbles, voice weary. He doesn't flinch when your wandering fingers feather across the darkened strip of skin. "The only form o' communication was local." You flip his hand, the underside of his wrist startlingly pale like the underbelly of a fish. "Couldn't 'ave reached out even if I wanted to. No signal."

It hangs heavy, what he was willing to share, and you're wondering if he's only asking for understanding or something else. Your treacherous heart flutters in your chest, breath squeezing from your lungs. A tiny part of you hopes for he's asking for that something else.

There's a new scar on his palm, close to the hardened calluses on his knuckles, the deep, puckered groove still red and raw— fresh enough to make you wince— and you can't help the frown that pulls at your lips. You can bet he took care of this himself, the oaf. Probably spit it clean and wrapped it up with whatever he had on hand. He's lucky it didn't infect.

"Only when I came back did I receive the missed calls, the texts, the bloody voicemail," he gnarls, and while the sharpness of his tone isn't aimed at you, you feel the biting sting of it anyway. Simon cradles your hand in his much larger one, and he doesn't squeeze, doesn't hold too tight; he simply holds it, the choice to refuse him if you wanted.

You don't.

"And this isn't something you could've told me before? I know I pressed when I shouldn't have," chagrin pools in your cheeks, "but I worried for you. You were sometimes so unreachable, standing between two worlds at once. I couldn't help ease the weight of your responsibilities because I didn't know what I was dealing with." As you thread your fingers with his, they feel impossibly small, brittle— like the bones of a bird swallowed in the expanse of his hand. How unsettling.

(Yet you wouldn't have it any other way.)

Simon shakes his head, slow and deliberate, but his grip on your hand tightens. "I've more enemies than friends," he mutters, raising your hand to his masked lips, the gesture oddly tender as he presses a kiss on it even though it forces you to rise onto your tiptoes. You blow a puff of air, mildly exasperated. Big geezer.

"Every time I rid myself o' one, two take their place. I only did it t' keep ya safe. There's nothin' they'd love more than to exploit any o' my weaknesses." He says it as though the admission itself is dangerous, and maybe it is, but the risk, you believe, is one worth taking even if he won't.

Where he sees danger, you see trust. And that's all you ever wanted. Trust, because either you'll have all of him or none of him, so you tell him that.

His grip tightens imperceptibly. "Only wha' I feel is safe f'r you to know. Nothin' more." You know he means it. You've seen how far he's willing to go, how much he's willing to sacrifice, to keep you out of harm's reach.

Simon will shoulder just about anything alone if it means you'll be kept safe.

How lovely. He's taken it upon himself to play Batman when no one cast him into the role. Ah, well. A win is a win, and you've long learned some battles aren't worth the effort today, so you tuck this conversation into the back of your mind, a note to revisit at a later date. As for now, though...

"Alright, Si," the old nickname slips from you so easily, as if it never left, "We can continue this tomorrow, if you're able, but as for me," your gaze flickers to the faint ring of grime around the drain and the scribbles covering the peeling walls, "I've just about had it with this place."

But he's got no interest in letting you go now, not when you've given him the second chance he'd been desperate for. Instead, he jerks you to him, your shoulder colliding into his chest, his arms cinching tight around you. There is no grace, no soft pretense to it— just a raw, unfiltered need of a man clinging to what he's been too afraid to lose; your arsecheeks apparently because that's what he's currently pawing at.

Pervert. Honestly, you'd applaud him for holding back from groping you for this long. No shame in giving credit where it's due. You thought about letting him have his fill, indulging his starved-dog behavior until his hands started to wander beneath your clothes. You ought to make him stop this before it spirals into something completely out of your control.

Ah, but then he latches onto the sensitive spot on your neck, right below the ear, so close to your drumming pulse and your words snag in your throat like fishhooks when he suckles.

It's tragic how quickly you cave.

Simon's breath fans hot over your spit-slick throat, slow and composed while yours is sharp and shallow as if you can't quite catch it. He jerks his head toward the stall, and you freeze, disbelief rooting you in place.

"You're joking." He's gone and lost whatever scraps of sanity he had left back wherever he was because there's no way you're getting down and dirty in— your lip curls in distaste as you look at the industry-grade bottle of disinfectant that sits in the corner— here. But then he's dragging you toward the nearest stall anyway, your bag tumbling to the ground, not my bag, Simon, shit, you owe me another. The door is a pitiful excuse for privacy, barely clinging to the hinges and sporting a gap wide enough to make you grimace. You've hardly any time to register anything else before Simon is already at your feet, smoothly dropping to one knee, the crown of his head dipping slightly below your navel.

Simon's hands cup the back of your thighs, palms spread wide as they trail upward, the tips of his fingers finding lace and not your everyday cotton. With a deliberate slowness, he lifts the hem of your skirt, his neck craning just enough to bring his line of sight under the drape of fabric, and his gaze lingers.

Oh right. You've got on that set— the one he'd carefully chosen for your birthday, that one that fits you so perfectly it almost feels unfair. A little indulgence that'd been meant for his eyes only. Even as you'd slipped it on earlier tonight, it'd felt like you'd been breaking the rules.

It makes you wonder...

You hook a leg over his shoulder, the heel of your shoe digging into the straight plane of his back. "Well?" Your question is wrapped in feigned nonchalance. "Does it make you upset?" Simon shrugs, dismissive, his eyes steady as they lock onto yours. The dim light above buzzes faintly, its unkind glow spilling over his rugged face. It does nothing to soften the sharpness of his features.

And you notice a new scar, tiny, close to his hare's lip.

"Doesn't threaten me, sweet'eart."

A sharp laugh escapes you. How infuriatingly arrogant. Simon leans in, his nose brushing against your sex roughly before he takes a crude sniff, unrestrained, unapologetic. Nasty as always.

The faintest smirk curls the corners of his lips. "Can't blame me, my girl and I 'ave been apart f'r too long." Humming, you place a hand on his head, palming over the short bristles of his hair before curling around the back of his neck, and you grind down on him.

"If you're hungry, then eat." The smile you give him after your gracious offer is nothing short of salacious.

Simon thumbs your gusset to the side and slips his tongue through your folds, and it's electric, raw. Frissons ripple through you, starting from your nape, and it cascades down your arm and your legs, and the sensation is sharp, almost overwhelming, and you bow forward, nails digging into the dense muscle of his traps.

It's been so fucking long.

Hot, wet pressure circles around your swollen clit, purposefully shy of what you covet, enough to stir something within you but not enough to satisfy— nowhere near enough. It makes you testy. Impatient. It pushes you to lose control, feeling it slip from his grasp, only to land squarely in his.

It's the exact reaction Simon craves. You can grind down on the tip of his nose all you want, push and pull at his head every which way, but you don't come without his say so, and to earn that, there's something you have to do.

By the way your teeth sink into your bottom lip, bite-swollen and glossy with spit, peering down at him with bleary eyes after having rutted against his face without restraint, frantically seeking the friction you yearn for, you also know what to do.

Good.

Now he waits. Your pussy is dripping slick, dewy honey trailing down his chin and joining the sticky mess pooling near his knee, but he doesn't care— his focus is entirely on you. Simon knows exactly how this will end. You're as mulish as ever, he muses, but you'll break. You always do. It's not a question of if but when, and he's content to wait as long as it takes for the inevitable. After all, he's a patient man when he chooses to be.

Your chest heaves with every ragged draw of air to your lungs, your pretty lips quivering with need, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. If he had the skill, he'd pencil this very moment onto paper, immortalizing it. The desperation that clings to your features, the frustrated grunts you give when he laps at your— his— cunt, tongue skimming just shy of your pearl.

It's intoxicating. A heady visceral rush that courses through his veins and pools white-hot in his groin, stiffening his cock almost painfully.

And then, when a finger dips into your sopping entrance, the composure you'd been desperately clinging to begins to come apart. Simon watches it unfold through heavy-lidded eyes, the gentle part of your lips, the tremor in your breath— he drinks up every single second.

"Please," your voice is barely more than a breadth of a whisper. Your surrender is almost as sweet as you.

The kiss he plants on the inside of your thigh is searing as he hums. "What's it?" The prickly stubble of his jaw scratches against your skin. "Don't lose ya courage now," he murmurs, "you've already fought 'alf the battle.

Heat licks up the sides of your jaw, but you truck on, dignity long lost, in tatters next to your bag on the floor. "Please let me come." Your words come out in a half whine, half plea, and Simon's response is immediate; he cants your hips as two thick fingers enter you fully, and at this angle, it's more than he knows you can take, but you asked for it. Begged for it.

Simon takes it slow, not easy, the suction on your clit maddening; strong, fluttering pulses that seemingly beat in tandem with your heart and the world begins to tilt on its axis, his strong hands keeping you anchored lest your knees give way beneath you.

The world narrows down to the sound of your hiccups, the tension coiled spring tight below your navel, the feel of his shirt knotting in your fist— if he had hair long enough to tug, you would've ripped it out.

You knock your head back against the door almost violently, the dull throb stamped out by the livewire crackling beneath your skin when you finally do come, a scorching heat radiating from within your core out, leaving a raw, tingling sensation in its wake. It stings, you dazedly muse. The orgasm that was wrenched from you was so thunderous your pussy stings. It's short-lived but potent, and you can't help but wince, your lips curling, teeth slightly bared in discomfort.

Ouch.

Simon, on the other hand, is just peachy, unbothered as ever, leaned back on his haunches, chin glistening with slick, his thumb sweeping what's about to drip off his nose.

"Don't think for a second I'm returning the favor here. I've standards, Simon." He huffs in response but says nothing, expecting nothing less of you, instead opting to shrug his jacket off and place it over your drooping shoulders. Your limbs feel leaden as you exit the stall, Simon nimbly reaching for your health hazard of a bag before leading you toward the door.

Your fingers curl around the knob, and twist and pull—

and nothing. Confusion knots your brows together as you retrace your steps. Had you pushed or pulled it open? You can't quite recall, so you give it a firm push it instead—

and nothing. Again. The door stays closed.

"Need help there?" Irritation sparks within you, wishing your glare would eviscerate the obstinate door. Does Simon think himself funny? All you want is to go home, scrub yourself sparkling clean, and sleep until the late afternoon, but the door is conspiring against you. Good. Great, even.

"Bloody door," you grumble, "It won't open." Simon steps forward, unhurried, and twists the handle once, twice—

"Open sesame," he says, tone utterly flat and casual, and you snap your slackened jaw shut. "Oh for fuck's sake, Simon, keep your shit jokes," but the door opens with a click.

You're joking.

You're fucking joking.

It swings wide with a creak, and you glance around instinctively. Nothing out of place— just the usual drunken bodies flowing in and out, their laughter and slurred conversations blending into the background.

Simon drapes a heavy arm around your shoulders, large hand squeezing firm as he walks you out, and you trudge alongside, your gait sluggish, until a massive bulk stumbles into your path, and Simon quickly places himself between you and the drunken mass, both a protector and a threat.

The bloke is a guy with a row of thick hair that runs from his forehead to the nape of his neck, the sides clean shaven. "Sorry, bonnie, didnae mean ta-" limpid blue flashes to Simon, his thin-lipped smile stretches wide— too wide— flashing too many teeth for comfort, "bump into ye." He doesn't linger though, clodhopping his way back to the bar. There's a bold-lined tattoo on his nape, of a... revolver? A choice.

"Walk. I'll take ya home. Won't come in for a nightcap," the lines by his eyes becoming more pronounced. "Scouts 'onor." Simon pulls you along, and you're fighting off the sleep in your eyes when a man in a cap, his profile partially hidden by the brim, bumps his knuckles against Simon's shoulder, and curiosity outweighs your fatigue.

"Who's that?"

Simon grunts. "Security."

You don't remember having been frisked by security when you came in.

The crisp air outside bites your cheeks when you step out, and you're grateful for Simon's forethought as you tug the sides of his jacket closer to you, burying your nose into the collar— it smells of cigarette smoke and him, musky and woodsy— a quiet comfort. Sleep tugs at your eyelids, each step feeling heavier than the last as you make your way towards his vehicle.

The metal door groans as it opens, and he extends a hand, aiding you up when you squeeze it as you slur out a confession.

I missed you.

He doesn't falter in his movements as he guides both your feet inside, and his hands are steady as he adjusts the belt, buckle quietly clicking into place until he straightens, gaze dark and fluid as it lingers on you.

He runs the rough pad of his thumb along your bottom lip tenderly.

"I know, sweet'heart. Get some sleep."

The door closes with a firm but gentle push.

I know, he says. Exhaustion pulls at you, dragging you further away from consciousness. Bastard.

Simon doesn't wake you when he pulls up to your driveway, hooking an arm under your knees and the other around your waist to take you inside, your head lolling on his shoulder. Tomorrow, you'll ask him how he knows where you live, considering you moved for a new job months ago.

[writeriguess]

A request/idea.

No one really dives into Bakugo's heart injury after the war. What happens when femreader (who he absolutely has a crush on) visits him in the hospital after the war, and he's like, 'oh shit this is gonna be bad for my heart' .

Fragile Heart

The beeping of the heart monitor was steady, rhythmic. Annoying as hell.

Bakugo scowled at the ceiling, arms crossed over his bandaged chest. He hated hospitals. Hated the sterile smell, the way everything felt too clean, too controlled. Hated how weak he felt lying in this damn bed when he should be out there, moving, training, doing something.

His heart was still fucked up.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew the damage he took during the war wasn’t just a flesh wound. The healers had worked on him for hours, murmuring about how close it had been, how the damage to his heart could have been fatal if they hadn’t acted fast. But he was here. Alive. Stronger than whatever bullshit tried to take him out.

That should’ve been enough.

And then you walked in.

Bakugo felt it before he even saw you—his pulse spiking, the monitor betraying him before his brain could even register why. His head snapped toward the door, and there you were, standing in the doorway like you weren’t about to send his already unstable heart into another cardiac episode.

Oh, fuck.

This was gonna be bad for his heart.

You stepped inside cautiously, eyes scanning over him like you were assessing the damage. Your usual confident demeanor softened just slightly, lips pressing together like you wanted to say something but weren’t sure where to start.

He suddenly felt too exposed, sitting in a hospital gown, bandages peeking out from under the fabric, heart monitor tattling on his every reaction.

"Bakugo," you said softly. "Hey."

His throat went dry.

"Hey," he muttered back, forcing himself to sound normal. Calm. Not like he was freaking the hell out because you were here.

You walked closer, stopping at the edge of his bed. “How’re you feeling?”

He scoffed. “Like shit.”

A breathy laugh escaped you, and he nearly died on the spot. His fingers twitched where they rested on the blanket, resisting the urge to grip the sheets just to ground himself.

“You scared the hell out of us, you know,” you said, voice quieter now. “They weren’t sure if you were gonna make it.”

“Tch. I ain’t that easy to kill.”

Your lips quirked into a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Still. Don’t do that again.”

And there it was—that thing in your voice, the raw emotion that made something squeeze tight in his chest. Not the injury. Not the pain. Just you.

His heart monitor betrayed him again, beeping a little faster.

You noticed. Of course you did. Your eyes flickered to the machine, then back to him, eyebrows raising slightly. “You good?”

No. Absolutely fucking not.

His jaw clenched. “Yeah. Just—stupid machine’s sensitive.”

Your eyes narrowed slightly, like you didn’t quite believe him, but you let it slide. Instead, you reached out, fingers hovering over his wrist before making contact. A soft touch. Warm. Grounding.

His heart slammed against his ribs, and the monitor nearly gave him away again.

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay still, to not react. But you were touching him, your fingers resting lightly against his skin, and that was infinitely worse than anything the battlefield had thrown at him.

“You’re really okay?” you asked again, quieter this time.

Bakugo wasn’t sure what possessed him, but he turned his palm upward, letting your fingers settle fully against his. His voice came out rough, barely above a whisper.

“I will be.”

You squeezed his hand, just once. A promise.

And somehow, despite the mess he was in—despite the weakness, the pain, the stupid hospital bed—Bakugo realized something.

Maybe, just maybe, his heart wasn’t as broken as he thought.

[songbirdseung]

you thought? / park sunghoon

how dare you think your boyfriend could ever forget your anniversary? he may be seen as a 'tsundere' but he'll never make you doubt his love and care for you.

you didn't even get the chance to overthink, to wonder, or god forbid, to shed a tear over whether sunghoon had forgotten your anniversary.

because from the moment he woke up that morning, he was already in motion. carefully detangling himself from you, he slipped out of bed with a determination that was rare for someone who usually clung to sleep like a lifeline. but today was different.

he moved quickly, yet as quietly as possible, flitting around the room as he hung up decorations, carefully arranging balloons, and scattering little celebratory touches throughout the space. every detail had to be perfect. satisfied, he rushed downstairs to prepare breakfast, moving with a frantic sort of excitement. give him credit where it's due... he was really excelling at this boyfriend thing.

with a tray balanced in his hands, he returned to the bedroom, setting it gently on the bedside table. he took a step back, scanning everything one last time, his heart pounding in anticipation. would you love it? would you smile at him with that soft, sleepy expression that made his chest tighten?

but first, he had to wake you up.

crawling back into bed, he hovered over you slightly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he admired your peaceful face. and then, with gentle affection, he began placing kisses all over your face, each one lingering just a little longer than the last.

"sunghoon?" your voice was groggy, thick with sleep, as you stirred beneath him. your brows furrowed in confusion before your eyes fluttered open, immediately locking onto his. but then, something else caught your attention. your gaze drifted past him, scanning the room, now noticeably decorated and filled with little surprises.

"happy first anniversary, beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with fondness.

his smile… that damn smile.

your heart swelled as he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips warm against your skin. when he finally pulled back, he gazed at you like you were the most precious thing in the world... because to him, you were.

"you did this?" your voice was barely above a whisper, still caught between shock and admiration.

he scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. "who else, dummy?"

before you could pout, he pinched your cheeks, grinning at how easily you reacted to his teasing. then, with careful hands, he helped you sit up against the headboard, reaching over to grab the tray of breakfast he had prepared just for you.

"now, let me spoil the hell out of you," he said, his voice laced with nothing but love.

as you settled against the headboard, sunghoon carefully placed the tray on your lap, watching your reaction with anticipation. the plate was filled with your favorite breakfast. though slightly unevenly plated, and the eggs were just a little overcooked, it was obvious how much effort he had put into making everything just right.

your heart melted.

"you really did all this?" you asked again, still in awe as you picked up the fork.

"i already answered that, dummy," he teased, nudging your shoulder before leaning back against the pillows beside you. "but yeah. you deserve it."

your face warmed at his words. sunghoon wasn’t always this openly affectionate, his love was usually hidden behind teasing remarks and playful jabs but moments like these, where he stripped away the smug exterior and just adored you? they made your heart ache in the best way.

"so... does this mean you love me or something?" you teased, smirking as you took a bite.

sunghoon scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "ew. don’t make it weird."

you laughed, almost choking on your food, and he reached out to pat your back while shaking his head. "see? this is why i bully you. keep talking like that, and i might just take all this back."

"you won’t," you said confidently, grinning at him.

"no, i won’t," he admitted, unable to help the fond smile that tugged at his lips. he leaned in, stealing a piece of your toast before settling in next to you, watching as you continued eating.

for a moment, there was only comfortable silence. the kind that came when two people just existed together, no words needed.

but then, he shifted, resting his chin on your shoulder, his voice softer now.

"seriously, though," he murmured, fingers lightly tracing patterns on your knee. "happy anniversary, baby. i mean it. i don't say it enough, but i really… really love you."

your breath hitched, heart swelling at the rare, unguarded confession. turning your head slightly, you met his gaze... no teasing, no smirk, just pure sincerity.

"i love you too, hoon," you whispered back, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

he hummed in satisfaction, squeezing your hand before snuggling closer.

"good," he mumbled against your shoulder. "now hurry up and finish eating. i have an entire day planned for us."

"oh? and what exactly are we doing?" you asked curiously.

he grinned, eyes twinkling with excitement. "not telling. it's a surprise."

[gf2bellamy]

haiii can i plz rwquest New Bau member reader and the team only see her at work where shes all serious and introverted, and spencer lowkey has a crush on her. But then they see her out with her friends one night and shes super bubbly and a social butterfly and that makes spencer like her even more thank you

speechless — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: they're at a bar , mention of drinking , awkward spencer a/n: hiii !! i hope you like this <3

Spencer traced patterns in the condensation on his soda glass, his fingers moving in absentminded circles as his gaze flickered around the bar. He was bored. Excruciatingly so. 

But more than that, he was disappointed—because you weren’t here. 

Derek had asked if you wanted to come, but you’d politely declined, mentioning that you already had plans. Spencer hadn’t even gotten the chance to say no before Derek was hauling him along, insisting that he needed to “get out more.” So now, here he was, sitting in a booth, drowning in the chatter and music, stuck in a social setting he had no interest in. 

He sighed, adjusting his grip on his drink just as a sound broke through the dull hum of the room—a laugh. But not just any laugh. 

Yours. 

His head snapped up before he could stop himself, eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you. And then his breath caught in his throat. 

You were standing with a small group of friends, grinning, eyes alight with joy as laughter bubbled from your lips. There was no trace of the serious, focused demeanor you carried at work. No furrowed brows, no rapid-fire case theories—just you, relaxed, carefree, effortlessly beautiful. 

Spencer had always thought his crush on you was manageable, a quiet thing tucked away. But in those ten seconds—watching you laugh like that, seeing you in a light he’d never quite witnessed before—he realized with absolute certainty: 

He was in trouble. 

His crush wasn’t just bad. 

It had just gotten worse. 

Spencer didn't even notice Derek, as the man walked up to Spencer's table, arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Are you just gonna sit in this corner all night,' pretty boy ?” 

Spencer barely registered his words. His attention was still locked on you, watching as you accepted a drink from your friend, flashing them a smile that sent an unwelcome jolt through his chest. 

Derek, intrigued by Spencer’s complete lack of response, followed his line of sight. The second he spotted you, his eyebrows shot up. “Is that—” He squinted, leaning in slightly as if seeing you from a new perspective. “Wow.” 

Spencer remained frozen, his expression unreadable, though the slight parting of his lips gave him away. Derek let out a low chuckle. 

Spencer blinked, finally breaking his trance, but he didn’t say anything. 

Derek glanced back at you, still laughing with your friends, completely unaware of the way you had just short-circuited the genius sitting beside him. “I gotta admit, I did not expect that.” 

Spencer swallowed, finally finding his voice, though it came out quieter than usual. “Expected what?” 

Derek grinned, shaking his head. “Her. Like that. You’re telling me that’s the same girl who spends her lunch breaks reading case files for fun?” He let out a low whistle. “Damn.” 

Spencer’s fingers curled around his glass, his grip tightening as he tore his gaze away from you.

He knew Derek was right. This was a side of you he had never seen before—one that was bright, effortless, magnetic.

And it was doing things to him he wasn’t sure he was equipped to handle. 

Derek smirked, clearly enjoying the situation a little too much. “So… you gonna sit here and stare all night, or you gonna go say something?” 

Spencer’s head snapped toward him, eyes wide. “What? No. Why would I—” 

Derek cut him off with a knowing laugh. “Come on, man. Don’t even try to play dumb with me. You’ve got it bad.” 

Spencer opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. He could practically feel the heat creeping up his neck. 

Derek grinned, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Alright, fine. You can sit here and pine, but just know—if you don’t make a move, someone else might.” 

Spencer's heart was hammering in his chest as his eyes flickered back to you. 

And just as he did, you glanced up—locking eyes with him across the room. 

The straw slipped from your lips, landing unceremoniously back into your drink with a soft plop. 

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling warmth creep up your neck. 

“What’s wrong?” one of your friends asked, following your gaze. 

You tore your eyes away from Spencer—who was now staring blankly into his half-empty drink, clearly pretending he hadn’t just been caught staring—and turned back to your friend. “Nothing,” you said quickly.

Derek, on the other hand, wasn’t even trying to hide his amusement. His grin was practically glowing under the dim bar lights. 

You swallowed, glancing between them before mumbling, “I’ll… I’ll be right back.” 

Before you could second-guess yourself, you set your drink down and made your way over to their table, willing your heartbeat to slow. 

“Hi, you two,” you greeted, voice light but a little unsure. 

Derek’s grin widened. “Well, hello to you, sweetheart.” 

Spencer, on the other hand, barely managed a response. “Hi,” he mumbled, his voice quieter than usual. His fingers fidgeted around the rim of his glass, eyes flickering up to you for a brief second before quickly darting away. 

Derek let out a low chuckle. “Wow, don’t sound too excited, Reid.” 

Spencer shot him a glare but didn’t argue. 

You bit your lip, shifting on your feet, suddenly feeling out of place despite the fact that you had come over here. “So… I thought you weren’t coming out tonight,” you said, looking at Spencer. 

He cleared his throat, still avoiding your gaze. “I wasn’t. But Morgan didn’t give me much of a choice.” 

You smirked. “That sounds about right.” 

Derek leaned back, folding his arms. “And yet, it looks like it worked out in his favor.” 

Spencer groaned, rubbing his temple. “Morgan.” 

You frowned slightly, not entirely sure what he meant, but before you could ask, Derek suddenly stood up.

“Well, I think I’m gonna go get another drink,” he announced dramatically. “Maybe take a little walk. You know, give you two some space.” He winked as he stepped away. 

Spencer let out a slow breath, his fingers tightening around his glass. You watched him carefully, noting the tension in his posture. 

“You look nice,” you said, eyes flickering over him. And he did.

He was still Spencer—formal, put-together—but there was something different tonight. His usual sweater-vest and tie had been replaced by a fitted button-down with the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms.

Spencer looked up, clearly caught off guard. “Oh—uh, thank you. Morgan told me to wear something different, so… I tried.” 

A small, amused smile tugged at your lips. “Well, it worked.” 

His fingers fidgeted against his glass as he glanced at you again, taking a breath. “You look—uhm—good too. Really good.” 

The moment the words left his mouth, he internally cringed. He wanted to bang his head against the table, maybe disappear entirely. 

You bit back a grin, tilting your head slightly. “Really good, huh?” 

Spencer’s ears turned a deep shade of pink. “I—uh—yes?” 

You chuckled, resting your hands on the edge of the table. “I didn’t know you went to bars, Spencer.” 

“I don’t,” he admitted quickly. “Not often. Hardly ever. Bars aren’t actually the most ideal place for socializing due to the high noise levels, the overconsumption of alcohol leading to impaired cognitive function, and—” 

You raised an eyebrow, and he immediately shut his mouth. “Right. I’m rambling.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s fine. I was just surprised to see you here, that’s all.” 

Spencer hesitated before speaking, his voice a little softer this time. “I was surprised to see you too.” 

For some reason, that made your heart skip a beat. You glanced over your shoulder at your friends, then back at him. “Do you, um… maybe wanna get some air? It’s kinda loud in here.” 

Spencer blinked, like he hadn’t expected that at all, but then he nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” 

And as you led him toward the exit, Derek—who had been not-so-subtly watching from the bar—grinned to himself and muttered,

“Finally.” 

[gojonanami]

“ A HOUSE IS NOT A HOME ”

pairing: satoru gojo x reader

summary: you come home after a long day of work unable to find the person you call home anywhere — until you reach the bedroom.

warnings: 18+ suggestive, fluff, comfort, some angst, implications of the shinjuku showdown arc, implied gojo is no longer a sorcerer, gojo is your househusband, taking a bath together, taking care of him, copium really, satoru being a silly man

w/c: 1,184

“I’m home!”

You call into your home, the clatter of your keys and shoes as you shedded the things that chained you to the outside to submerge yourself in your oasis and into his arms. But as you got no reply, you stepped into your living room, scanning over the kitchen, to find no one.

Now where was your home?

“Satoru?” you called, heart skipping a slight beat, he was always waiting for you when you got home, usually on the couch or maybe in the kitchen the clank of the knife as he chopped away. Or even the many times that he was waiting by the door to only ambush you with kisses. But this time, nothing.

You rounded the corner to the hallway and peeked into your bedroom to find him asleep. You crept closer, careful not to wake him, and yup, he was fast asleep. His pretty snow white lashes resting against his cheeks, his chest slowly rising and falling as the soft sounds of his breaths parted his lovely lips.

You could watch him sleep for hours. You knew he never did enough of it before, and you’d argue he still didn’t do enough of it now. He always said he was fine sleeping 6 hours since it was twice as much as he usually got — and now he was working at home, so he could be ease.

But even so, you know he needed more.

As if he senses your thought, he stirs, starry blue eyes finding yours as he flutters sleep from his gaze, “sweetheart?” He’s murmuring, voice still beautifully raspy from sleep, “when did you get home?” He’s shifting to get up, but you use gentle hands to ease him back, “I haven’t started on dinner yet, sweets—“

“I got it, Toru,” you’re running your fingers through his hair, “just rest, baby,” and a protest is already on his lips, “let me guess what you did today — cleaned the house from roof to floor, stocked us on groceries, cooked lunch for me for the week, and probably a million other things,” you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, “I think I can handle dinner for one night at least,”

He’s pouting now, “but you just got home from work, Princess, what kind of househusband would I be—“ and you can’t help but laugh, he loved his self appointed title of househusband, especially since it was one he had chosen for himself, and he took any opportunity — even now to call himself that.

“I think even the absolute best househusbands need a break, and should listen to their wives, since I’m the one you want to pamper so much,” and his lips party in protest, but you’re leaning down to kiss them and his pout away, “let me take care of you, Toru,”

He’s sighing, as he leans up to press his forehead to yours, “and does your offer include a bath, sweetheart?”

~~~

“Y’know sometimes I feel guilty,” and you pause in your massage of his head, fingers tangled in his hair, suds from the bath you’d drawn for him covering both of your bodies as he leans against you in your tub, back pressed flush to yours.

“Guilty about what?” you ask, holding your tongue on the million reasons why he shouldn’t.

“For so long, I was the strongest,” he gives a small chuckle, “and it was fun, sometimes. But it was mostly lonely,” he leans back to look up at you, a small grin on his lips, “except when I was with you,” your lips curl, “and now I get to be with you, and I get to stay home — and the worst thing I have to do are the dishes,” and you snort.

“I told you I’d do them if you hate them so much,”

But he’s shaking his head, “Sometimes I think trying to deal with our cast iron is worse than fighting Sukuna—“ and you roll your eyes, “but there’s always this urgency that I have to be doing more. Telling me to keep going, moving, fighting—“

“You’ve done enough, Toru, more than enough,” your fingers cup his cheek, “too much, honestly. It’s okay to rest now. You’ve done your part—“

“But—“

“Didn’t you or someone say jujutsu is like a marathon, a baton pass?” Your fingers run through his white locks, before you shift yourself to sit in his lap instead, “the marathon is over, racers have packed up and gone home, and the finish line has been crossed,” your fingers rest on the back of his neck, tracing his undercut, “and that’s because of you and all you did to fight and raise up the next generation,” you say softly, and he’s pressing his head to your forehead.

“Is it okay for me to rest now?” and you’re pulling him into your arms, hoping your touch conveys what your words can’t.

“Yes, it is, Satoru,” you’re pressing soft kisses to his neck, “you don’t need to be the strongest. You’re Satoru Gojo, and that’s all I want,” and he leans back, “you’re all I want,”

“Is that a proposal?” And you snort.

“We’re already married, weirdo—“ and his lips find yours, as they always did, his arms around your bare waist, as the water shifted and splashed, but you could barely feel anything except his lips against yours and the circle of his thumb against the small of your back.

He finally pulls away, a genuine smile on his lips, “And you married this weirdo,” and you chuckle, tracing his jaw with your finger, “you’re stuck with me for life,”

“Promise?” And he’s kissing you again in an instant, stealing your breath like he did the first time you met him all those years ago at jujutsu tech. And you knew you’d never love anyone else — not like him.

“Promise.”

Bonus:

Satoru’s arms wrap around you from behind as the two of you towel off after your bath, “what are we having for dinner?”

“Well someone insisted on me being in here with him, so I had to order out,” and he’s grinning, as he nuzzles your neck.

“Whoopsie, hehe,” and he’s humming, as he tugs your hips against his, the friction drawing a gasp from your lips, “can we have dessert first?”

“It is dessert. We’re having ice cream for dinner—“ and he’s kissing you again, but this time it’s languid and messy — all tongue and teeth, until he’s pulling away with a smirk at your breathless face.

“I want something sweeter, wife,” and you smile.

“Think you can finish before the delivery gets here?” And he’s already picking you up with ease in his arms, pinned under him in a moment, as his ocean blues flash with mischief from between your thighs.

“I can, but I don’t know if you’ll be done by then.” He says cheekily, as you only sigh.

If there was one thing that would always be true is that you would always be weak to Satoru Gojo — but not his abilities, but who he is.

Your husband.

“Let’s see, hm?”

a/n: I’m real upset about the leaks and this is my coping. I needed this.

taglist: @staryukis, @cloverlilies, @asgoodasdead666, @strawmariee, @chuuyasboots, @forest-fruits-jam, @catsgomurp, @rat-loves, @hanlay, @risuola, @spider-fan72, @sunamatic, @difficultdomains