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envy-of-the-apple · 2 days

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Infinite Rewind

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: Instead of dying, you are sent 13 years in the past, but this isn't your face. "Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"

Word Count: 18.1k

(Warnings: slight yandere, death, murder, inaccurate Tokyo geography, blood, violence, mild gore, obsession, unhealthy relationships, child abuse/neglect, time looping(?), fem!reader) Ageless blogs that try to follow me will be blocked

First, you saw a monster.

It was big and horrible—nasty teeth. You heard screaming. People. Running as fast as they could away from the creatures. Pain.

And then, you saw a bright, clear sky.

The sun was blaring down at you. It was so hot. Wasn't it December? How was the sun out at night?

"Hey, you good?"

A girl is looking at you. Short brown hair. She's peering down at you, wearing a high-school uniform. How is she wearing all black when the weather is so hot?

When you don't respond, her eyes squint.

"Suguru, are you okay?"

That's not your name; your mouth moves faster than your brain.

"I-I'm fine." That wasn't your voice. It was deeper. More masculine. What the fuck happened to your voice?

The girl gives you another strange look but you're too busy freaking out over your new voice. Your hands are different too. A completely different skin tone, larger.

And then you're fumbling with your pockets, clothes you know you didn't buy. The girl is calling for you again but you're too busy pulling out a fucking flip-phone and looking into the black screen, the only thing you have for a mirror.

Purple eyes stare back. These aren't your eyes. This isn't your nose. This isn't your hair. This isn't your face. You blink. He does too. You open your mouth. So does he. You pinch your cheek. In the reflection, he winces.

Oh, you just fucking bodysnatched someone.

ⴵ

Ten minutes later, you conclude that your name is Geto Suguru, you are a 16-year-old boy, the year is 2006, and you attend a religious academy.

"You're finally acting normally again." The girl-newly discovered as Ieiri- says. "No more weirdness."

You don't blame her, considering you grabbed her by the shoulders, asking ridiculous questions like: what year is it, who am I, why am I here, who are you, am I dead, is this Hell, etc. For a teenage girl, she took your outburst well.

"Sorry," you say and by now you've gotten used to your voice, "it must have been the stress from studying."

She just hums, continuing to walk beside you. Though, Ieiri had a point. You were definitely calmer, and it was mostly because you figured it out.

You were dreaming.

You were lucid dreaming, to be more precise. Your brain was conjuring up a weird setting and you just happened to be placed in another person's body. You heard about this happening before. You were just so freaked out because this was the first time anything like this had happened to you.

An impulsive part of you wants to tell Ieiri that this is just a dream, but you've heard weird things happen after a lucid dreamer tries to break the illusion. It's best if you just let it just play out and see where this goes.

“Excited?”

“Hm?” You ask. And Shoko rolls her eyes.

“For the mission you have this evening. Special grade. Sounds scary.” She says, her sarcasm evident.

Mission? Special grade? You don’t know what those words mean but it sounds like a school field trip. Shoko takes your hesitance as something else.

“Ah,” she says, “so you forgot.”

“I didn’t.” You reply on instinct.

“I expected this from Satoru, not you. You should stop hanging out with him, he’s starting to rub off on you.”

You give a sheepish laugh, and it’s enough to quell her questions.

She leads you into the school, all through the winding halls and through an office door. You couldn’t be more grateful, it’s not like you would have known where to go. It’s a teachers room. Two people are already inside.

“Wait, for once, I’m early?” The boy with sunglasses asks, voice dripping with amusement. He’s leaning dangerously on a chair. You stare at him. You’ve never seen someone with white hair before. It can’t be real.

“He forgot.” Shoko pipes up and the boy cackles.

“That’s hilarious. I’m starting to rub off on you.” Ah, this must be Satoru.

You give a nervous smile. “Haha, yeah.”

The boy stops rocking in the chair. Three pairs of eyes look at you. Your uniform feels itchy.

“Gojo, stop making such a ruckus.” The man, presumably his teacher, gruffs. "You two got the briefing yesterday. Do your job and for the last time do not leave your assistant manager behind again."

Gojo groans, and you delve into more confusion. Before you can say anything, the kid is hopping out of his seat before lazily striding out the door. Shoko and the teacher look at you expectantly.

Oh, you were supposed to follow him.

Not wanting to make a scene, you catch up to Gojo. He's tall, his footsteps are long and wide. But you're tall now too, so it's easy to keep up with him. This new body of yours has a lot of pros.

"Yaga's so annoying," Gojo suddenly says, "constantly nagging us like that. It's not our fault the assistants can't keep up."

What should you say? You clear your throat.

"He just wants what's best for us."

Wrong answer.

"Where'd that come from?" He snorts. How charming. "I know you agree with me. You're just tryna' act like the nicer one, again. It's starting to get a little old."

Is that how 16 year-olds talk? Rude, but also strangely off-putting, like he can see straight through you. Or more accurately, he can see straight through Suguru. How close are these two, anyway?

Why did any of these questions even matter? This is a dream! You need to wake up already.

On the campus grounds, a sleek black car waits outside for you two. Along with a miffed man in a black suit. This must be a very rich school for a field trip to have a chauffeur. Where were you two going again?

Gojo hops in the back, taking one of the window seats. You take the other. In your own body, you would've fit nicely. But Suguru's legs are long, and the spacious car feels cramped. You should've taken the passenger seat. How do tall people live like this?

The ride is quiet. Out the corner of your eye, you catch Satoru type away on his flip phone. A moment later, yours beeps. You still have no idea how to use Suguru's phone or his password, so you ignore his message. Satoru groans.

Quickly, you learn that Satoru has a very low attention span. When looking out the window gets boring, he bugs the chauffeur. When the chauffeur ignores him, he starts bugging you.

"Hey heyyyy," Satoru says, "when this is all over, we should go to that new ice cream place. Like you said, we should."

You look at him. "Uh, sure." You say.

"And you should pay for it, 'cuz you said you owed me last time."

Fine, whatever. "Sure thing."

He grins. You can't see his glasses, and it makes his smile even more unnerving. This kid.

This doesn't feel like a normal field trip at all. Why did you stop in front of some rackety house that looked as though it were about to collapse? You turn back to the only adult in the vicinity, but he's out too. He takes out a lighter and a cigarette. In front of impressionable children, too. Wonderful.

"I'll wait out here." He says, though his tone is uncaring. "Since we're out in the country, there's no need for a veil. Do your best."

Veil? What? Gojo's already going off again and you've already decided to be his chaperone, so you follow. You reluctantly trail behind him. Feet crunch the leaves. The house grows bleaker and bleaker.

"Okay, I have a plan!" Gojo exclaims when he gets through the squeaky door. He's so loud, can't he be quieter? "I check upstairs and you check the ground floor and the basement. Got it?"

Check the house? Were he and Suguru electricians in training or something? That still wouldn't explain why a grown man decided to drop off two teenagers in front of a creepy mansion. And why in God's name did Gojo want to split up?

"I-I don't think that's a good idea," you say, "shouldn't we try to stick together?" Or, better yet, leave.

He clicks his tongue. "Ugh, you're so lame. Not like Suguru at all."

Wait, what did he say? You're about to call out to him when he climbs up the stairs, disappearing from view. Unbelievable.

This kid was starting to get on your nerves. Enough, you were leaving. You could have a nice dream where you met and fell in love with Zendaya, not babysitting some teenager, whilst possessing another person's body. You were going to wait outside with the man and hope your dream finally came to an end.

Except, you couldn't go outside. The door was gone.

It-it was right behind you, right? The entrance was right behind you. You couldn't have gotten turned around so quickly? What the hell happened? Or maybe you had gotten turned around? Considering how distracting that Gojo kid was, you might not have realized it.

You look around the house. Looks like it'd been abandoned for a while. There's dirt on the shelves. Chairs were toppled over and left to rot. The wooden floorboards dangerously creaked beneath you. Just what had happened here?

There's no patio door. No door leading to the outside. At the same time, you hadn't explored everything yet. Each door led to a room. The only door that didn't, led to a basement. And no, you weren't going down there.

When you got back to where you started, you noticed something had changed.

There was a person. Seated right at the base of the stairs?

Gojo? Was he done with urban exploring? Maybe he knew the way out. He stands up, reaching to his full height, then higher, then higher.

Gojo was tall, but this thing was taller. Gojo was human. This thing wasn't.

What the fuck you can only mouth because your voice is stuck in your throat when it takes a shaky step towards you. It's a black husk of a figure, too skinny but too tall and twitching fingers. You don't know how you could've mistaken this for the kid.

Another step. You're running, back into the house, leaping over the fallen shelves and creaky floorboards. It gives chase, and you can hear it groan behind you. It's deep and rumbly and terrifying. It just motivates you to go faster.

It's slower than you. That's good, but it seems to realize this. You can barely celebrate your advantage before something heavy is smashed into your back, sending you toppling to the floor. You and wooden chair crash on the ground.

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

Dreams aren't supposed to hurt. Because this wasn't a dream.

This was real. You were stuck in the year 2006, stuck in another person's body, about to get mauled by a monster.

You were going to die.

You aren't even fighting anymore. How pathetic is that? The shock numbs your body as the thing grows closer and closer, all you can do is reach your hands up, protecting your face.

And then the creature explodes.

An implosion. It's skin and bones twist in a way no one should. There's a shriek, something wrong and high and inhuman before it's gone. Like it never existed in the first place.

After all that, he's still smiling. Like the cat that just caught the mouse.

"I guess we're not pretending anymore, are we?" Gojo asks, stretching his arms. "That's good. That game was starting to get a little boring, anyways. Now, then."

He folds his glasses, tucking it on his uniform. Blue, his eyes are. As blue as a clear sky.

"Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you, and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"

ⴵ

Contrary to your belief, Gojo Satoru is a good listener.

There's never an interruption. Not even once. Every once in a while, he nods, a hand on his chin. It's probably because he can't interrupt. You just keep going on and on. Word vomit.

He only speaks when you pause to catch your breath. "So you are from the year 2017, and you went back in time to body-snatch someone. I had a feeling your technique had something to do with possession."

You look at him warily. "Wait, you knew this entire time?"

You two hadn't moved from your earlier spot. You were still sprawled on the floor, still feeling the adrenaline surge through you. Gojo had transitioned to squatting on the floor. He scratches his neck, still so casual.

"I have good eyes. Don't worry about it." He shrugs. "Anyway, you seem pretty harmless, and as annoying as it is not having Suguru around, I doubt killing you would do any good." Why is he being so nonchalant about murder? Is this kid really sixteen?

"I think we gotta' just wait around until your technique reactivates." Gojo whistles. "2017. That's like a decade away. I wonder what happened for your technique to show up."

You blink, trying to remember the date.

"It was Christmas Eve..." You glance at him. "And then I was here."

He thinks for a moment. "Yeah, I got nothing." Of course.

He sighs, before sprawling on the dirty floor, belly up. You grimace at his antics but choose to keep your mouth shut.

He doesn't seem very worried. At the most, he looks mildly inconvenienced. Why isn't he worried about his friend?

When you ask him, he just snorts.

"Sorry, but you're not that scary. Besides, I don't have to worry about Suguru. He's strong."

Well, that's nice to know, but one other thing still bothers you.

"You speak so casually to me," you mutter, "You know I'm older than you, right? I'm 22."

He laughs. "22? Damn. You're old, man."

"That isn't old!" You argue. "You have no concept of age since you're just a teenager." And why did he assume you were a man? Oh right, you were trapped in a teenage boy’s body. Of course.

"I mean, technically, I'm older than you, right?" Gojo ponders with a grin. "If you're 22 in 2017, that makes you what—11 in 2006?"

You say nothing because you have a feeling that if you continue to argue with him, he'll just drag you down to his insanity.

"Technique, you've said that a couple of times." You look at him. "That's what you call your 'powers', right? Does Geto have one too?"

"Yeah," Gojo says, "but you can't use it. You have zero cursed energy. Honestly, it's at the same level as a plant. A bit lower than regular humans. It's a little impressive, actually." For one second, could he stop being so condescending?

"What's his technique?" You ignore his comments. "Could it be related to how I got here?"

He gives you a look over. "I doubt that, but Suguru's technique is curse manipulation. Uh, you remember that thing you saw earlier." You nod. "Yeah, he can control and absorb them."

He sounds pretty awesome. You look at your hands. Not your hands. Geto's hands. They're paler than yours, and a lot longer. This isn't your body. Your soul can feel it. You can feel the guilt too.

'I'd give it back if I could,' you think, 'I just don't know how.'

Gojo's getting up. He stretches. He was lying on the ground but you can't see a speck of dirt on his uniform.

"Okay, then. No use mopping around." He grins down at you. "Maybe Yaga can do something about you. Let's get you back to jujutsu tech."

You blink up at him. His hand is outstretched, reaching out to you. He's still grinning that insufferable grin but his eyes have slightly melted.

"Okay." You say, barely touching his fingertips. "Let's-"

And then Gojo's gone. And then, you're standing. And then it's cold.

You're wearing a coat; weren't you wearing a uniform before? There's no clear sky. It's nearly dusk.

You were standing on the sidewalk, where people bustled all around you. You fumble through your jackets, putting out a phone. An actual iphone. You flick on the screen.

December 24th, 2017, 7:06.

Holy shit, you were back.

Was it because you touched Gojo? That makes no sense, but how could you explain anything else that happened so far? God. You rake a hand through your hair. Your hand. Your hair. You can't believe how much you missed yourself. It felt so good to be back.

Your mind is spinning, you had no idea what the fuck just happened.

For now, you just wanted to turn your mind off and grab a drink.

You know there was a bar not too far from your location. Along the way, you pass by the bustling town. There's a couple walking side by side, giggling over something you couldn't hear. Right, it's the 24th. You remember your empty bed with no one to share it with, and you cement your desire to drown yourself in alcohol today.

Your self-pitying session is almost how you nearly miss him. His shoulder brushes past you. You're about to apologize when you hear his voice. It's familiar.

It used to be your voice.

It's all there. Black hair, but it's longer this time around. Of course it is, he's had years to grow it out. He's tall, he must've grown since highschool. His broad back is the only thing you see, you're almost afraid to reach out to him.

"Suguru...?"

He freezes like you've shot him. When he turns around, it's like looking into a fractured past. He looks older, no longer a youthful teenager. You should have paid more attention to his eyes, how scrutinizing they were, how condescending his fake smile was. All that you could think of was that it was actually him.

"Do I know you?" He tilts his head. "Apologies, but my girls and I are quite busy."

You don't notice the two young ladies beside him until Geto points them out. Teenagers, maybe just around the age when you first met him. He was a father now.

You're so swept up by the emotions that you barely notice they've continued walking. You stumble behind, ducking behind the alleyway they went into.

"Wait! Geto!" You call. "Please! We need to talk!" You still needed your answers. You didn't know care how desperate you came off as.

In hindsight, you should have noticed that they looked more annoyed than worried about a stranger chasing them across the street.

The one with the ponytail scoffs. "This one talks an awful lot. How annoying."

Geto sighs. He leaves his daughters, finally standing in front of you. This is what you wanted, right? A chance to talk to him.

Still, you can't help but feel wrongness within you. His smile is off.

"Most monkeys are just that, unfortunately." You don't move. You can't. Not when he places a hand on your skull. "I suppose it'd be humane to put this one out of its misery."

Geto Suguru crushes your skull. And then you die.

ⴵ

Again. You died again.

This is the second time Geto has killed you. Fuck, you should've realized.

"Back again, Greeny?" Gojo asks.

He and Suguru were sitting outside in the grass. Satoru's holding up a few playing cards. You look at Suguru's hands and find yourself doing the same.

Not again.

"What year is it?" You ask warily. "And what did you just call me?"

Gojo grins with teeth. You remember he compared you to a plant before, didn't he? He's so clever with nicknames; someone should give him an award.

"Welcome back to 2006!" Gojo beams. "It's only been a couple of days since you left. And why are you so grumpy? I'm the one who just lost a player."

You weren't grumpy, you were pissed. You figured out what's been going on with you, and it's all because of the asshole you're possessing right now.

The look on his face when he killed you. Like you were nothing more than an animal. A monkey. Now, you feel a lot less guilty about possessing his body.

At least you figured out two things. You know how your technique works. Whenever someone kills you, you are sent back in time to take over their body. But you can go back whenever you touch Gojo, or perhaps just another sorcerer.

Secondly, you have access to Geto's memories.

It didn't happen the first time you died. It must have been because the kill wasn't direct (from Getos curse, rather than himself), but milliseconds after Geto split your skull in two, your brain was overwhelmed by his past, his present, as well as his future.

Geto was set to die on December 24th, 2017. At the hands of his best friend, Gojo Satoru.

Fuck him. Let the bastard die. You didn't give a shit.

You reach over to touch Gojo's arm, ready to leave. He pulls back with a snicker. Ugh, the brat must've figured out your technique, too.

"Stop messing around." You tell him. "I need to go back to my timeline."

"Sure, sure," he says as though speaking to a time traveler is just another Tuesday. "But first, finish the game with me."

"No." You tell him before leaning out even further. He isn't moving away anymore, but you still can't reach him. Fuck, he must've activated his technique.

Despite your annoyance, you decide to keep the future away from Gojo's ears. He doesn't need to know that he'll be the one to kill Suguru. He shouldn't. Not at his age. He's just a kid.

"Just one game! I promise!" He pleads. "Then I'll let you go. Suguru never lets me beat him, I want an easy opponent to boost my ego."

You roll your eyes, but you settle down, picking up the cards. You already know the rules; you have Geto's memories, after all.

It's silent, save for Gojo's humming. When you place down your King of hearts, you ask:

"Hey, is my cursed energy different at all?" You ask.

"Not really." He squints. "Wait, it has grown a little. Aw, Greeny sprouted!"

So, every time you die, your cursed energy increases. That, or your cursed energy, increases every time you time travel. It doesn't matter either way. Does this mean you can use Geto's technique now? It couldn't hurt to try, right?

There's a demon-no, they're called curses you know that now- floating beside you, just a little ways away. Small. Barely fourth grade. You stick your hand out, calling out Geto's power. There's a pull, a rush of energy.

A blue ball drops into your hand.

"Holy shit." Gojo leans forward. "So you can use his techniques." Surprisingly, there's no wariness in his voice. Just awe.

"Yeah." You breathe before glancing up at him. "Shouldn't you be focused on your cards?"

He shrugs, tossing the cards away. "What cards?"

You sigh before staring at the ball. Well, you captured the curse. All that's left to do is swallow it, right? You can do that. You open your mouth. Gojo is still staring. You scowl.

"Look away."

He rolls his eyes. "It's not like I haven't seen you do this before. Well, not you, the guy that you bodysnatched."

Ass, you keep that in your head as you hold your breath. You swallow the ball down.

Instantly, you choke.

It's horrible. Like a rotten carcass on the highway, oozing blood and oil and pus. You start dry-heaving, suffocating, spit dribbles down your chin. Nothing comes out. You've already absorbed it. The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. Like swallowing a rag that was used to wipe up vomit and shit. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested.

"Is it really that bad?" Gojo observes you. "That guy swallows them down, no problem."

Because Suguru was used to this taste. He was used to the responsibility. The hoarding mass of distraught absorbing a curse comes with. It was a disgusting art. Something he'd perfected to mask for years. Until he couldn't take it anymore.

Fuck, you might have lost your mind, too, if you kept having to eat this. To protect people who were happy you failed.

You snapped out of it. Suguru's memories were affecting your own. That's probably a sign that you need to get out of here. No way would you be sympathizing with someone so monstrous.

"Hopefully, I never do that again." You slowly recover, wiping your spit away with your hand. You lean back on your hands, exhausted.

"Something I've always wondered." You call out to Gojo. "What did Suguru ever think about someone possessing his body."

Gojo laughed. "Funny thing. He never knew."

"What?" You look at him. "No gaps in his memory? Nothing?"

"Nope," Gojo said, "he remembered what happened in the house, but he thinks he did everything. And then he said something weird."

You perk up at that. "What did he say?"

Gojo tilts his head. Then, he shrugs.

"I forgot." Typical.

You pinch your nose bridge. "So, did you tell anyone else about...this?" You gesture to yourself.

"Wait, you're supposed to be a secret?" You look at him in alarm. "In my defense, I didn't know, but I haven't gotten the chance to tell anyone. After the mission, Suguru and I went to the arcade, and then I kinda' forgot about it."

Well, at least Gojo's arrogance works in your favor sometimes. You can't let anyone know, especially anyone connected to the higher-ups. From Geto's memories, you know they don't like anything new. It's best to stay under their radar.

"Good, well, from now on, we're keeping it a secret. Got it?"

"What are you two keeping a secret?" A new voice pops up. You jump.

You know him—at least from Geto's memories. Haibara beams at you. He looks so alive in the sunlight, smiling and with bright eyes.

He'll be dead within a year or so.

Gojo takes advantage of your shock. "The bodysnatcher wants me to promise that I won't tell anyone that a curse-user is possessing Suguru's body."

"What the hell? You just promised that you wouldn't tell anyone!"

"Uh, technically, I didn't promise anything yet." Gojo retaliates. "But okay, fiiiiine. I won't tell anyone....except for Haibara." You groan.

"What's going on?" Haibara's smile fades. "Wait, Gojo, is this not Geto? Is this person actually a curse-user!?"

"I'm not a curse-user." You correct. "I'm not a sorcerer either, for the record."

"You just used a curse technique to travel back in time to take over someone's body." Gojo enunciates. "Sounds like a sorcerer to me."

"Wait, you're a time-traveler, Mr. Not-Geto?" Haibara asks and you are genuinely impressed he's able to keep up.

"The name’s Greeny, Haibara." Gojo supplements. Haibara nods, still a bit unsure.

"So...do we fight Greeny?"

"It's not my name." You get ignored.

"Nah, it's all good. Greeny's harmless. Just a weakling, don’t worry about it." Rude, but you don’t think you’d want Gojo to take you as much of a threat, not after knowing what he can do.

"Oh, okay!" Haibara instantly relaxes. The kid's really trusting, huh?

"Okay, fine, but no one else can know, got it, Gojo?" This promise doesn't matter. It's not like you're planning on returning to the past anytime soon. As soon as you return to the present, you are leaving Tokyo and escaping the night parade of 100 demons. Fuck that. You don't want to die again.

He waves you off. "Yeah, yeah."

He's so insufferable. You don't know who's worse: the genocidal maniac or this brat.

"Give me your hand. I want to go home."

Haibara looks confused. "Wait, why does Greeny need your hand?"

"It's how the curse technique works," Gojo explains. "Greeny gets sent back in time, and then my true-love's touch sends him careening forward into the future." You frown at his comment, but he turns to you before you can say anything.

"Which reminds me, Greeny: ever figure out how your technique works?"

No way are you telling a kid that their best friend killed you....twice. Instead, you just shrug.

"Haven't figured it out yet."

Gojo stares at you. "Huh." He responds. "Well, if you ever figure it out, lemme' know."

Sure you will. You hold up your hand. Gojo, finally holds his own up. Out of the corner of your eye, Haibara waves. And then you're back in your own body, on December 24th, 2017, 7:06 pm.

You waste no time. You push at the crowd, squeezing through the hoards of people. You need to get out. You need to leave before the death parade starts, before you're trapped in that terrifying cycle of death again.

You need to leave.

Exorcised. Ingested.

No no no. Shut up. This wasn't you. This was Geto's memories.

Exorcised. Ingested.

You need to leave.

Exorcised. Ingested.

You need to survive.

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows.

You stop, right there in the middle of the sidewalk. People glare, cursing as they move around you. They don't know this place will be a bloodbath in a matter of minutes. They'd all die. But you could stop it.

If only if you hadn't accessed Geto's memories. If only if you hadn't eaten that damn curse. If only if you hadn't sympathized with a murderer. Maybe you'd have the courage to escape your future.

But you'd felt that taste. Horrible. If you eat enough, you could go insane. If you were lonely enough, that would do it too.

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. No one except for you.

At 8:06 the screams start. The monsters come out to play their song. You close your eyes, forgive Suguru, and you die once more.

ⴵ

For once, when you open your eyes, Gojo isn’t there with you.

You’re still on the campus of Jujutsu tech. Suguru was just about to grab his soda from the vending machine. You finish his job. The can feels cold. It feels refreshing on your tongue. It’s a momentary distraction to the fact that you have no clue what you’re doing.

You understand your cursed technique, but you still struggle with the application. Fuck, what did you do? You were utterly fucked. You’re playing a dangerous game. If you died- if Geto died- here, what would even happen?

The worst part is that you can’t even think of the hypothetical because there’s no other choice. You needed to do this. To not only save the people in Tokyo from the Night Parade, but to also save Geto Suguru. The man who has killed you three times now.

Geto’s dissent starts to worsen at Riko Amanai’s death. If you could prevent that from happening, you could probably change history. But Geto’s true fracture begins with the curses themselves. They were rotting him from the inside.

You grimace, but you have to do it. You have to eat every single curse that Geto couldn’t swallow down himself.

One was coming up. In less than an hour, Yaga will call you and Gojo for a mission. It’ll be a special-grade grave-type curse. Dispatching it will be simple, but Geto would be the one to exorcise it, ingesting the screams of all that the curse devoured. You needed to prepare yourself for that.

Maybe you should save some of this soda to wash the taste off later.

“Geto!” Someone cheers, you jump, but Haibara’s already poking his head around the wall. He grins.

“Hey! Oh, you’re not Geto, aren’t you?” He tilts his head. “Greeny?”

“Keep your voice down,” you whisper, “wait, you can recognize me?”

He nods, after checking to make sure no one’s around, he says, “yeah, your eyes are different? It’s hard to explain.” He tells you.

Huh. Interesting.

“You’ve been gone a while.” Haibara beams. “It’s been a few weeks. I’m glad you’re back, Gojo was starting to get cranky.”

It’s probably because he had no one to mess with. Poor him. He has all your sympathies. Ass.

“I’m glad to return as his punching back.” You mutter.

Haibara shyly shuffles his feet.

“So, are you really from the future?” He asks. “Was Gojo telling the truth?”

You nod. “Haibara, you haven’t told anyone, right?”

“Of course not!” He instantly says. “Not a soul. Not even Nanami, and I tell him everything! Your secret’s safe with me.”

“And Gojo, too! I know he doesn’t look very trustworthy, but me and him have kept it under wraps.”

Reluctantly, you can’t help but agree with the kid. Gojo is annoying, but so far, he hasn’t done anything super harmful.

“So anyway, Greeny.” He clears his throat. “Considering you’re from the future and all. Would you mind telling me what my future will be like?”

You blink at him. He takes it as a sign to continue. “Nothing much! I just wanna know what I’ll be doing in 2017. Will I finally be a grade 1 sorcerer?”

You think of Geto’s final memories of Haibara. A child burying another child.

“Sorry,” you lie through your teeth, “but I didn’t know you in my future. Again, I’m not really a sorcerer.”

Haibara nods, disappointed but still very excitable. He asks you about other things about the future, and you try to answer to the best of your ability, but you can’t shake off his dead glass eyes, staring at you from the morgue.

“Another thing, we should have a code word.” Haibara exclaims.

You blink. “A code word?”

“If we ever meet in the future,” he explains, “y’know, in 'Groundhog’s day', he has to keep explaining what’s happening repeatedly? In order to prevent that, we should have a secret word between eachother so I instantly know who you are.”

Not the same exact situation, but it sounds like exactly something a child would come up with. You indulge him anyway.

“Okay, what did you have in mind?”

“Well, it can’t be anything too crazy, or we might attract unwanted attention.” Haibara puts a hand on his chin in serious thought. You smile.

“Got it! If you ever see me, just yell ‘brocolli head’ really really loudly. Then I’ll know.” Haibara chirps.

“Wait, why broccoli head?”

“Because broccoli heads are green!” Haibara chirps happily.

You’re starting to learn it’s best not to question his logic.

You nod, very amused. “Sure thing, Haibara.”

Someone calls out his name. He jumps before he waves to you. You watch as he joins with Nanami. They talk about something you can’t hear. Haibara laughs and you decide it would be a shame if his laugh was lost to death.

Gojo finds you eventually. You can’t hide from him forever. You were walking into the school when he caught up with you. He’d ran there. His breath was slightly ragged.

“Greeny, couldn’t get enough last time, huh?” You shoot him a look.

“What are you talking about? Doesn’t matter, we need to go, the missions coming up.”

Gojo’s smile dips ever so slightly. “How’d you know about that?”

It’s probably not a good idea to tell the guy's best friend that you’re possessing that you’ve unlocked his memories.

“Haibara told me.”

“Ah,” He replies, “let’s go then.”

The car ride is different this time around. Less tension. You aren’t as confused. Gojo is seated quietly beside you, watching the scenery go by. The assistant is too preoccupied with belting the radio to notice Gojo's words.

“Figured it out yet?” He asks. “Your technique.”

He's persistent about that answer, isn't he? You're sure the only reason Gojo cooperates with you is because he thinks you're inhabiting Suguru's on accident. How would he react if he knew you were doing it intentionally? It's best not to get on the strongests’ bad side.

“Oh, not really, but I think it’s random. I can’t seem to find a set pattern. Maybe Suguru calls out to me, somehow?”

“Maybe.” Gojo replies. His time is flat. Anxiety flips through your stomach.

“You’re different this time around,” Gojo says.

“Am I?” You ask. “I guess I’m just more determined today.”

He gives you a look over. "Oh yeah? What for?"

"The curse. I'll exorcise it, today."

You don't know how you wanted Gojo to react to that, but you're still disappointed when he turns back to the window.

"Do whatever, Greeny."

In the end, you do swallow the curse. You manage to hold your gags in this time.

It's worse than before. It makes sense. This curse was first-grade. Stronger. In terms of taste, it was like curdled blood and mold. You were so grateful for that soda.

Gojo only watches with a tilted head.

"You're getting better at that."

You give a weak grin.

"Practice makes perfect," you reply, "do you think I'll get strong enough to absorb a special grade soon?"

He doesn't like your question. You can see it in his stiff expression.

"Maybe. Why do you want to swallow up curses, anyway? Last time you were here, you were practically begging to go back."

His response wasn't exactly hostile but far from his usual playful attitude. You knew you'd have to confront this eventually. Despite how nonchalant he acted, it's clear Satrou doesn't enjoy watching someone prance around in his friend's body like this. If he starts to dislike you, it could rupture your entire plan. You need his cooperation, more than anything, to save Suguru.

A little bit of the truth. Just a bit. It can't hurt, can it?

"Curses taste horrible," you say, looking at the ground. You can still taste the remnants of it, "it's the worst thing in the world. I can't even explain how wrong it feels to eat one. I thought...while I'm in his body...I could maybe help Suguru a little. I could ingest the curses in his stead, so that way, he still gets to absorb it." But it'll lessen the trauma it has on his mental state.

You can't see how Gojo feels about that. Those glasses of his cover everything. But you know he's staring at you. The six eyes are taking you apart, observing you whole.

"Did you know Suguru in the future?" He asks.

"I didn't." The man that killed you. The man that will keep killing you. And you'd forgive him each time.

Another beat of silence.

Finally, he just sighs. "You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?"

You give a sheepish laugh.

"That isn't a compliment, by the way. You're just really reckless. And maybe stupid, Greeny." His tone isn't mean.

"My name still isn't Greeny." You tell him.

"Oh yeah, what's your name, then?" He's reverted back to that teasing lilt, and it almost makes you relax if you don't note the curiosity underneath.

So far, you've been lax giving away information regarding the future, but you don't think you should continue that. What if you're too careless and the future changes in a way you didn't intend? A name, personal information, that could be way too dangerous.

"Actually, just call me Greeny. I like that name a lot better."

"You complained about it all the time, though?" Gojo argues.

"It's starting to grow on me." You grin. "Grow? Get it, because you compared me to a plant and-"

"Stop stop, you really are an old man." Gojo groans. You just grin wider. Then, you grimace.

“I can still taste it.” You complain. “I’d kill for a cigarette right now.”

“I caught our assistant manager smoking a while back,” Satoru suggests. “Maybe you could go and beg him for one.”

You toss him a look. “Suguru doesn’t smoke, and I’m not giving a teenager a nicotine addiction.” You have found lighters inside Suguru’s pockets, but you have a feeling it isn’t for his own cravings.

"Hey, could you do me a favor?"

He gives a wordless hum.

"Maybe after this, could you take Suguru out to a cafe'? I can taste the aftertaste of the curse." You shudder. "Just get him something to wash it down."

Also, Suguru couldn't go back to his dorm after this. Suguru dissented because of his fractured relationship with everyone, not just with Satoru. You'd try to bridge the gap between him and his peers as much as you can. You go through Suguru's flip phone, asking Shoko if she wants to join the two.

When you're done with that, you snap the phone closed.

"Okay, I'm done here. You two have fun, okay?" You raise your hand.

Gojo just huffs, amused. "Sure sure. By the way, someone wanted to thank you."

You blink at that. "What?"

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."

He gives you a high-five, and then you're back in 2017 in your own body.

Temporarily. So far you figured out that you get sent back an hour before the night parade happens. 8:06. Considering you have a couple more minutes to kill before you’re killed, you reach into your pocket for that cigarette you’ve been craving. You pick the first out of the box, cherry burns just out of corner of your eye.

You notice things now. The children giggled to their parents. Old couples gingerly held hands with sweet smiles. You'd save them, but first, you need to save Suguru.

And do really do that, you'd have to save Riko.

Easier said than done. You could go back in time, but you can't really control when to go back in time. It's been random, but your trips are typically two days away from each other. You can work with that.

But in order to get to Riko's death, you'd have to die...a lot. Absorbing curses made Suguru lose his mind, but how well would you fare with dying over and over again?

"Hungry?"

Someone looms over you. A woman. She's pretty, with short hair and bangs. In her hand, she holds a bag of chips.

"The vending machine gave me an extra." She gives a laugh. She kind of sounds like you. "Would you like one?"

"Oh." You take it. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." She trots off into the crowd. You watch her.

A stranger's act of kindness. She didn't even know what would happen to her soon. You grip the bag, it crinkles in your grasp.

It didn't matter how well you'd fare with dying over and over again. You'd get over it. So many innocent people depended on you. You can't just abandon them like this.

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right? It's aggravating how accurate he is, honestly.

The screams start up again, and you forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

It takes a few cycles to finally reach the day Amanai Riko is assassinated. Whenever you deem yourself too early, you often accompany Gojo on a mission and exorcise a special-grade curse. Your overall plan is working, bit by bit. Each time you return, Suguru's memories swarm you. Each curse he remembers as less painful.

It's why you get worried when you get there a little too late.

"Something wrong?" Riko asks.

You've stopped in the middle of the hallway, and of course, they're looking at you strangely. You know this place. Tengen's barrier is just an elevator ride away. Suguru, Riko, and Miss Kuroi were all almost there.

Fushiguro Toji has already arrived.

In the first timeline, Geto leads the girls all the way down to Tengen's barrier. He puts his trust in Gojo. Of course, he would. They're the strongest. And in the end, Gojo does kill Toji.

But the kill comes too late. Riko still dies, and the fracturing happens.

You thought you'd have more time. If you had arrived a bit earlier, you could have fought with Gojo, and the chances of defeating Toji would have significantly increased.

What do you do?

"What's the matter?" Miss Kuroi asks. She's supposed to die today, too.

"Sorry, ladies." You smile. "But I need to go back for him."

You don't answer their calls, running back up the hallway. The sun's bright, shimmering beautifully in the sky.

It contradicts the blood dripping all over the stone floor.

Gojo's lifeless body is draped across the rubble. It's a horrifying sight. Eyes that were once like the sky are just this empty blue. A dead sea. He isn't breathing. You know, if you touched his wrist, you wouldn't feel a heartbeat.

"Hate to break it to ya', but the Gojo kid's dead." Toji's right behind you. You can feel him grinning.

You know Gojo isn't dead. At least, he won't be dead for a while, but seeing the boy who used to tease you, annoy the shit out of you, laugh at you, be so....it made you freeze. Falter.

You were wasting time.

"Sorceror killer." You say after a minute. You almost can't bring yourself to turn, to look at him. The man who kills Gojo. The man who could've killed Suguru, but chose not to. "You certainly live up to your name."

Toji's grin widens. The only man in the world with zero cursed energy. It'd be awe-inspiring if it weren't so terrifying.

It's funny. You weren't afraid of dying, not anymore. You were afraid of failing. Failing when you were so close, when victory was just a blink away.

"The flyheads." You mention to the swarms of curses all around you. "That's really smart." It gives you an idea or two.

You have Suguru's memories, but they aren't always concrete. You just have snippets. A general idea of what happened within a certain event. It makes sense. Humans can't remember everything.

But regarding the memories of Suguru and Fushiguro, everything is crystal clear. It's almost like you were there when it happened.

It also means that you know Suguru, at this current level, won't be able to defeat Fushiguro.

But Suguru doesn't need to beat the sorcerer killer; he just needs to hold him off.

Currently, Suguru's body contains 368 curses: 3 special grades, 24 grade ones, 33 grade twos, 103 grade threes, and 205 fourth grades.

You release all 368 of them.

In another timeline, these curses would look to you as something to devour. Today, these curses have a new target.

It won't stop Fushiguro. You're not dumb enough to think that. But it should give you time. Hopefully, it'll be enough time.

Your knees hurt when you collapse next to the corpse. Gojo's so beautiful, even when he's dead.

"Gojo." You shake him. Nothing happens. "You need to wake up. Gojo."

Nothing happens. You don't know what caused Gojo to become the strongest, Suguru wasn't there. For once, you are blind to the past.

"Riko needs you. Wake up. You-you need to go and save her and Miss Kuroi."

His body's so cold, and you know he's dead because when you touch his skin, you don't wake up in the present. You push against his body, and he falls limply right back to place. You're sure this sight will haunt you for the rest of your life.

"Satoru." You beg. "It's Greeny. Please, please, please wake up."

Nothing happens.

Everything happens.

The brightest blue you've ever seen. It's heavenly. A glow that warms and chills your skin. It takes a while for you to see again. When you do, Satoru is standing.

Somehow, his eyes are even brighter. You don't think you're looking at a teenage boy anymore.

You're sitting in front of God.

"Greeny." he states, voice flat. "You're late."

You manage to smile.

"Sorry."

You’ve seen Satoru fight before. He’s always calm, body relaxed as he practically floats in the air. Those fights differed from Suguru’s memories—post Satoru’s awakening. There’s always this twinge of desperation. An aftertaste of bloodlust.

But seeing it for yourself is something else entirely. Even with Suguru’s heightened senses, you still can’t follow him. He’s barely a mirage. One milisecond you can see a blue flash, the next you see nothing.

It's barely a fight. Not this time around. Fushiguro is completely unmatched. There's a flash of purple. And then, it's over.

Fushiguro is in shambles. You didn't realize he was human until he started to bleed and shatter. Parentage over labor. It's sobering, in a way.

Satoru's mouth moves. You're too far away to hear anything. They stand there for a few more seconds until Fushiguro slumps. Then, he falls.

You wonder when you got so desensitized to death.

Gojo stands there. You should let him compress, but the clock is ticking. You need to do one more thing before you can let Suguru go.

"You need to go." You say when you're close to him. He doesn't acknowledge you. "Riko's about to enter Tengen's barrier."

He looks at you right then. His eyes. They're so bright, but they're strangely lifeless. Like he can't process you, your words.

"I can see you now," he says, "it was so foggy before, but now, you're crystal clear."

Six eyes look at you. You don't think you're hiding behind Suguru's face anymore.

You clear your throat.

"Gojo." You remind him. "Riko. You need to stop her."

He blinks back into focus, rising from his high.

"Oh," he says after a moment, "right."

You stop him before he can walk any further. You hold out your hand.

"You and Suguru."

For the first time in a while, Gojo hesitates to send you back. You wait a couple seconds longer.

"Yeah," he finally says.

His skin still feels cold.

ⴵ

This death is a lot more painful than the others.

The curse that's holding you is more intelligent than its predecessors. It keeps you alive, tearing at your skin, feasting on your flesh. Blood is everywhere. You scream until it rips out your vocal cords. It's almost a mercy to just die.

You forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

Time skips a lot faster now.

You stand in 2006, four months after the death of Fushiguro Toji. It takes a second for Geto's memories to kick in. What you see makes you nearly cry in relief.

Gojo and Geto made it in time. You can still remember the tears spilling down Riko's cheeks, the smile on her face when Geto asked her if she wanted to go back. They were safe. They were home, with each other.

You did it. You actually managed to pull it off.

But you can't celebrate, not yet. From what you can gather from Suguru's memories, Geto defects after four years. You've just held off the eventual.

It's nearly the middle of December. The air feels a bit chillier. You stay on that bench where Suguru once occupied. He was finishing his lunch. Usually, he'd eat with Satoru, but Satoru wasn't on campus these days.

Right, you weren't finished with your work, yet. There was still one other issue. Suguru went on missions alone these days. Swallowing curses, letting them fester and rot in his body. It's isolating and grueling work. You might have been able to help him with the absorption, but your aide won't be enough to prevent his eventual downfall.

You'll have to deal with his natural isolation. To do that, Suguru will have to make friends with people who aren't Satoru.

Suguru does have friends, but he's the closest to Satoru. Considering Satoru is getting busier each passing day, Suguru needs to broaden his horizons a bit.

It's a good thing this school is filled with such colorful characters.

Haibara and Nanami were sitting in the back of the school. From Geto's memories, their dynamic was interesting. Haibara was definitely more outgoing than the two, but Nanami seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. They looked out for each other, in that way.

Ah, Shoko was there, too. You haven't seen her since your first day. Her hair's grown longer. It lightly brushes her shoulders now. The cigarette in her hand burns a cherry red.

Your reaction is rooted in Suguru's instinct than anything on your part. You reach out, taking the cigarette and stomping on the embers.

"You shouldn't smoke in front of kids." You tell her, hoping she didn't read too much into your action.

Shoko scoffs, but to your satisfaction, she doesn't take out another one.

"We're just one year below you." Nanami retaliates, but he looks more at ease now that the cigarette's out.

"Did you finish lunch already, Geto?" Haibara asks kindly, then he takes a closer look. "Greeny?"

You suck air through your teeth, giving Haibara a scathing look. Instead of looking exasperated, Nanami looks confused.

"What's Greeny?" Nanami asks, and Haibara weakly laughs.

"It's-uh-my new nickname for the tree that's growing over there!" He wildly points to something just behind you. "'Cuz it's so...green!"

"Of course." You note the hint of affection laced within his tone.

"When'd you get back?" Haibara recovers with eagerness.

"Recently." You grin. "Nice to see you again."

"You saw him this morning," Nanami interjects, and you shrug. When he frowns, you know you pulled off a perfect Suguru impression.

Suguru melds into the conversation perfectly. Haibara says something funny, Shoko and Suguru agree, Nanami disagrees. It's a lovely little cycle that ends when Nanami grumbles and picks himself up to go. Shoko starts to follow suit when you stop her.

"Your hair's nice." You tell her.

She hums, grabbing a strand to study it. You can see hints of dark circles beginning to form under her eyes. She looked livelier when you first met her. Curses have been popping up left and right since Fushiguro's death. Everyone is overworked, but Shoko looks like she's getting the brunt of it. She's one of the only people who can use RCT on others, and there aren't many healers on her level. All of the strongests share one thing in common it seems.

"Pretty soon, it'll be longer than yours," Shoko replies. You smile in response.

"Where are you going?" You ask.

"Dorm," she replies, "I'm behind on paperwork."

You had a feeling she always was. You gave a look of sympathy, but misery loves company.

"I have some work too," You 'remember' the piles of papers lodged on Suguru's desk, "Maybe we can do it together later. The cafe right next to campus? It'll be my treat."

She looks at Suguru. Her eyes are a pretty color.

"Sure." She shrugs. "see you then."

You feel your heart thump twice in your chest and decide that your work here is done.

Haibara stares at Shoko's disappearing back. The forehead flick comes from both you and Suguru.

"That hurt." Haibara whines.

Good, you inwardly think.

"Sorry." You tell him. He rubs his head, and you wonder if this is how kicking a puppy feels like.

Luckily for you, Haibara recovers quickly.

"You've been gone for a while." Haibara tilts his head. "What happened?"

You can't exactly control your technique, it's more like it has a mind of its own, placing you exactly where you need to be placed. Instead of answering, you sigh, leaning against the wall.

"Timeline gimmicks." You tell him tiredly. "It's hard to explain." He frowns, but he takes it as an answer.

"Do you know when Gojo's coming back?" You ask. "I think it's time for me to go back again."

In previous time travels, you and Haibara tried to see if any physical contact would be enough to send you back. No matter how many times you two high-fived, shook hands, or even held hands. Nothing worked. Only Gojo Satoru could activate your technique. It must have something to do with the amount of cursed energy another person has.

“He should be getting back later this evening.” Haibara muses. “But I’ll be happy to keep you company!”

It's nice to hear him chatter. If you'd let him, he'd go one and one. But you like hearing him talk about his sister. Apparently, she’s also a sorcerer, and his affection for her makes you smile.

"You remind me a lot of her, actually." He tells you. "Even though, y'know, you're a man." It's enough to get a laugh out of you.

“Do you have anyone in your family who can see curses?” Haibaracasks.

“No,” you answer honestly, “at least, not that I can tell. My dad never spoke of curses or strange powers when I was growing up.”

You think he would have said something; after all, you two were too close to have secrets from each other. Your father was a single man, who took to raising you himself after your mother passed away. He often said you had her laugh.

“Maybe you’re one of a kind,” Haibara suggests.

You agree with him.

Gojo finds you before you can find him. He comes up to you with a grin and a wave.

“Hey, long time.”

His sunglasses are tilted down. You can see his eyes. They’ve lost the mania he had in his fight with Fushiguro. You’re relieved at that. You still can’t shake off that strange thing he said to you.

Wordlessly, you raise your hand. Satoru frowned.

“You wanna leave so soon? You just got here.”

“I’ve been here for hours,” you tell him, “also, you aren’t very concerned that someone is using your best friend’s body as a puppet.”

“He’s been through worse,” Satoru tells you off with a wave. Some friend.

“Let’s go to the arcade,” he suggests.

“Do that with Suguru.” You tell him. “I’m not hanging out with a high schooler.”

“Right right, my bad. I keep forgetting you’re an old man, Greeny.”

“22 is not old,” you say with exasperation, “didn’t your birthday just pass? You’re just five years away. I’ll see your attitude change, then.”

He grows quiet. You feel like you messed up somewhere.

“How did you know about my birthday?”

Fuck, you keep forgetting about keeping Suguru’s memories a secret. It takes everything within you to just relax.

“Haibara told me,” you say, “blabbermouth. You know him.”

“Oh.” Gojo replies. “Huh.”

You shuffle your feet. Distantly, you wonder what shoe size Suguru wears.

“How did your mission go?”

“Horrible,” he’s instantly back to his usual self, whiny and complaint, “and the curse was so ugly too. It was oozing goo everywhere.”

You frown. “Sounds gross. But you won, right?”

He doesn’t even answer. You secretly admire his sheer confidence. You certainly weren’t that when you were at his age.

“How’s Amanai and Miss Kuroi?” You ask.

“Safe.” He tells you. “The higher-ups weren’t really happy with us after that; pretty sure all these sudden missions are punishments.” He frowns. “But they’re fine. Miss Kuroi officially adopted her, so she’s a Kuroi now, too.”

You smiled. You already knew all that, but it’s nice to hear it.

“You saved them,” he says.

You laugh, “I didn’t do a thing.” You tell him. “You and Suguru did all the heavy lifting. I just caused some property damage.”

“You did.” He replies. “I don’t know how, but things always manage to work out whenever you’re around.”

You don’t like how he phrases that, but you don’t react.

“You think so? Maybe I’m lucky.” It’s supposed to be a joke of some kind. Neither of you laugh.

“You really don’t know us in the future?” He asks.

Maybe you should’ve asked Shoko if you could have a cigarette.

“I really didn't,” you say, “Honest, I—I have no idea what’s happening. I’m just as lost as you. Hopefully, I can figure out how to control my technique, and you won’t have to see me again.”

You never stopped feeling guilty for doing this to Suguru. Controlling him. Forcing him to laugh with his friends, make decisions based on your feelings rather than his. But you’re so close. You promise yourself that once you fix everything, you’ll never cause someone this much pain again. No matter how many times they kill you.

Satoru’s fists tighten. He looks even more upset at your response.

“That’s not what I—” He cuts himself off. You wait. Satoru says nothing more.

“You’re annoying.” He tells you in the end. It’s clean and cut, but it sounds like him. More confident, less wavery. “And stupid too.”

You can’t help but smile.

“Thank you. Am I done entertaining you now? Can I go?” He grumbles, holding up his hand.

“Yeah, sure, Greeny.”

ⴵ

You forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

Something’s wrong.

You can feel it. Something’s wrong.

You look through Geto’s memories. There’s nothing. Everything’s going as it should be. Everything looks perfect. Then, why do you feel so wrong?

Currently, Suguru was finishing excorcising a curse. You absorb it, swallowing down the remnant like it’s a pile of rusted nails but even the disgusting taste isn’t enough to wash away the feeling of dread.

The walls of the hospital was empty. The auxillary managers had already cleared everyone out by the time Suguru had walked in. Maybe it was the silence that added to your stress?

You walk out. Nothing changes. One of the managers comes up to you with a clipboard.

“The curse was exorcised.” Suguru tells them. “It wasn’t first grade, it was special grade. It was still disposed of.”

He curses, scribbling something down on his clipboard.

“The wrong information again.” He hisses to himself. “If we keep doing this, someone will die. We need more people, we’re way too stretched out.”

Those words are familiar. Hold on.

“Wait, what day is it?” You ask the frazzled-looking manager.

Offhandedly, he responds. He says the date so casually, and yet his mere words feel like a bear trap, tightening on your leg.

No. You should have had more time. Why weren’t you given more time?

Nanami and Haibara have probably already been dispatched. You go through Suguru’s phone, finding Haibara’s contact. It doesn’t go through. Nanami doesn’t pick up either.

You won’t make it in time. Even using Suguru’s curses, you won’t be able to reach them until it’s too late. Suguru’s memory of that day is muddled and dark, but Haibara’s dead corpse laying on the examination table. The pieces of him that Nanami could bring back.

You wouldn’t be fast enough.

He picks up on the second ring.

“...What’s up?”

“It’s Haibara.” You spit the words out as fast as you can. “Satoru, you need to go and get him right now, he isn’t going to make it—”

“—Greeny?” The exhaustion in Gojo’s voice is gone. You can hear something rustle behind him.

“Satoru, listen to me.” You beg. “Haibara and Nanami were just dispatched on a mission, but Yu isn’t going to survive it. It wasn’t a second-grade curse; it was a first grade. Please, you have to go and save him before it kills him.”

It’s silent. It feels like hours have passed when you know it’s just three seconds.

“We’ll talk later, Greeny.” The line clicks.

You’ve lost the trust of the strongest.

ⴵ

The future has changed when you get to campus. Haibara’s status is still alive. Barely. But he’s still there. Shoko’s currently taking care of him.

Nanami remains quiet the entire time since he returned with Haibara’s battered body. The only thing you can think of to offer comfort is to pat his shoulder. He barely even registers it. It’s more for you than for him. You’re self-soothing, taking care of something else, so you don’t have to recognize your own panic.

If Haibara dies, right here, on this day, everything can change. Everything can go back to the way it was in your original timeline. Haibara, with his sunshine, smiles, and bright eyes. His death is so important, and you can’t even think of him right now.

Gojo Satoru knows you’ve been deceiving him.

This is bad. So very bad. If he starts to suspect that you know more than you let on, he might deem you enough of a threat to kill, regardless of whether or not you’re in Suguru’s body. It’s not like that hasn’t stopped him before.

Gojo Satoru is selfless. He’s selfless enough to kill his best friend, if he thinks it will save everyone.

But if Gojo kills Geto here and now, would that really be bad?

You’d lose your path to the past, but the threat to your life would be over. Even if you did die in Suguru’s body, at least the people of Tokyo will be spared the Death Parade. You’ll still get what you want. And it will be much easier than your current plan.

Nanami shuffles behind you and you instantly snap out of it. That wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been you. That same lack of apathy when Fushiguro died in front of you.

It seems like dying over and over again caused you to lose bits of your humanity.

Shoko comes out. Nanami stands up, a tall ball of nervous energy. Shoko removes her mask. Her dark circles have grown even more prominent. She’s only 17.

“He’s still alive.” Nanami sags. “But he isn’t responsive. I’ve done all that I can.”

She looks at Nanami, and then she can’t anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Nanami rasps, the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him, “don’t apologize. It was my fault. I should’ve taken better care of him.”

You swallow. It wasn’t his fault, you wish you could tell him that it was yours.

You wonder what Haibara’s younger sister looked like. A spitting image of him, perhaps. Shorter. Darker hair, bigger eyes. Their smiles would look identical. What would she look like when she’s told her brother died doing the profession he forbade her from doing?

You can’t do that to her. You can’t be the reason she loses her brother the second time.

You’re not sure if a God is even out there. How could there be? What kind of entity would do something like this to you? Still, you sit on that bench, right outside the room where Haibara’s body lay, and you pray for a God.

Gojo’s footsteps stop right in front of you.

It’s hard to get the words out. For a minute, he just stands there.

“Did you exorcise it?” You finally ask.

“Yeah.”

You lift your head up to look at him. Even in his school uniform, he’s regal to look at. Like a warrior of the sun, blessed by the moon, sent to vanquish beasts and monsters.

Now, his blood-soaked sword is pointed at you.

Make it quick. You can only think. Just make it quick.

“Not here.” You say.

Nanami was still shaking. Shoko was right beside him. So you stand, you drag yourself away from Haibara’s fading presence, and Gojo follows behind.

It shouldn’t be this pretty outside. The sun is bright, and the sky is clear. There should be rain. Enough rain to drown the Earth.

“I figured out your technique a while ago, y’know.” You don’t look at him. You can’t. “Dying. Death activates your technique. Each time you die, you’re sent back 12 years in the past.”

You grip the fabric of your uniform until your knuckles turn white. Satoru’s cruel enough to continue.

“But I never got why your soul kept possessing Suguru’s body. It always felt kinda’ random. Unless he was the one who was killing you. Over and over again.”

“Gojo. Stop.” You beg.

“That’s how your CT works. Every time you’re murdered, you go back in time so you can kill them when they’re at their most emotionally vulnerable moment. It’s a pretty powerful technique, all things considered. I might not even stand a chance against it. Assisted suicide, never expected that from you of all people.

But you never do. Each time Suguru kills you, you just come back and try to save him and everyone else your hands can reach. I can’t get why you did that.”

He steps in front of you so you can see him. The God that he is.

“Let’s cut the shit, Greeny. Tell me what future is so bad you’re willing to die over and over again to prevent it.”

The worst outcome you could have ever thought of was standing right in front of you.

Satoru was demanding to know his future.

And...you couldn’t.

You’re taking in a shaky breath. It’s not enough oxygen. The sky was close to crumbling, and you still couldn’t breathe.

“There’s nothing to know.” You try. “There’s nothing, I’m fixing it—”

“—by Suguru killing you, or is this considering killing yourself, now?”

“You don’t understand.” Your voice is cracking, so high-pitched that even Suguru’s vocal cords can’t keep up. “You don’t get it. You can’t.”

“Then help me understand.” His voice is as ragged as yours, he steps closer, you step back. “Tell me why my friend would do something like this to someone.”

It clicks right then. Satoru’s anger isn’t directed at you.

No, it’s directed at Suguru.

It’s even worse than you thought.

“He—he was better than me. He was supposed to be the best out of all of us. I wanna deny it all that I can but—but I can see the proof right here in front of me. And—And I don’t—” His voice breaks too much to continue.

You’re breaking, too. How many times have you been doing this, over and over again? All alone, with no one to support you. To comfort you.

The words are right there, threatening to bubble out. It’d be so easy to tell Satoru everything.

And maybe you would’ve, but then you looked at him.

Despite how disingenuous Satoru acted, you knew he was kind. The kindest person you’ve ever met. He’d sit there and listen, and he’d break every bone in his body to help. That’s just how he was.

Satoru was selfless, he was selfless enough to kill his best friend here and now if it meant he’d save the millions in Tokyo.

You can’t put another burden on the strongest.

You can’t do that to a kid.

“It—it isn’t him.” You manage to spit out. “He isn’t doing it on purpose. It’s not his fault.

It’s the curses. They were too much for him; they overtook his body. Suguru couldn’t control them anymore.”

He says nothing. It’s like you’ve put a spell on Gojo somehow, freezing him in place. Satoru can’t do anything but stare at the talking puppet that’s his best friend.

“He lost so many people.” You continue. “Riko, Miss Kuroi, Haibara. He couldn’t take it. It was too much. His body succumbed to the curses, and they took over Shinjuku. That’s how I keep...”

It’s okay to lie like this, you justify to yourself. Because the Suguru, you know—the one with fake smiles, beady eyes, and a broken expression—isn’t the one that Satoru knows. They’re two completely different people. Years—timelines—apart from each other. They aren’t the same.

Even then, you forgave both Sugurus a lifetime ago.

You’d get on your knees if you know that would make a difference. You’d plead and beg and cry if it would get Satoru to drop it. In the end, you can only stare at him.

“All I’m asking is that you trust me.” You whisper. “Believe that I’m making this right. Please, Satoru?”

His eyes. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s gone quiet and dull. The same look he had when he fully awakened his technique. The day he became God.

But he’s not a God. God’s don’t cry.

He leans ever so closely until his head rests on your shoulder. His body shakes.

“You’ll save him, right?” He asks. Gone, is his aura of confidence and resilience. He’s nothing more than a shell. If you feel something stain Suguru’s uniform, you say nothing about it.

You smile anyway.

“I will.” You tell the truth. “I will save him.”

You think of something morbidly funny.

“I’ll die trying.”

His shoulders shake with quiet, genuine laughter, the kind that’s wet and sticks to the top of your mouth.

“That’s fucked up, Greeny.” He whispers.

You hum, reaching up to pat him on the back. It takes another minute before he gathers himself up. His eyes are shiny. Satoru blinks it away.

“Haibara will be okay.” He says with such conviction. “I’ll take care of him. I’ll take care of Suguru, too.”

He doesn’t get it, not yet. He doesn’t understand that Shoko and Satoru and Haibara and Nanami need him. He’ll get it soon, though. You managed to put Suguru on the right path.

For now, it’s all you can do.

“I know you will.”

He scoffs, right then.

“You’re really annoying, you know that? Next time, don’t piss me off like that. Just tell it to me straight.”

Rely on me. Lean on me.

“I’m sorry,” you say and you truly are, “I won’t leave you in the dark from now on. I guess I just forgot that I had a friend in 2006.”

His eyes get a little brighter. “It’s actually 2007—”

“Shut up.” He laughs and it sounds like him again.

You reach out your hand and his grin fades, the tiniest bit. He mirrors you, regardless.

This time, you hesitate.

“You should learn how to be selfish every once in a while.” You tell him. “I won’t fault you if you’re selfish. I don’t think anyone will.

He doesn’t answer that, but his touch is finally warm.

ⴵ

It hurts. It hurts so much. Blood seeps into the pavement. You can hear the curse laughing. It sounds like him.

You forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

It’s today.

You can feel it. You don’t even have to look at the date to know.

The catalyst for December 24th, 2017.

Suguru’s already dressed. You’re currently standing in front of a shotty mirror, watching your reflection.

He looks tired. His smile’s a bit muted. You notice a scar you hadn’t seen before. An unregistered special grade curse, Suguru’s memory gives.

He’s different from when you saw him a year ago, but there’s still a spark in his eye. You cling to that hope, as hard as you can.

You step out of the room. It isn’t Suguru’s. He’d rented accommodations with an older woman and her son for the mission. Their place smelled like home. It made your stomach turn.

She smiles when she sees you coming down stairs. She looks kind; she has the eyes of a mother. You’ll never understand how a person who raised children could do something like this to another.

“Mr. Geto.” She chirps. “I’m so glad you’re awake! Would you like anything to eat?”

“No, I’m fine.” Better get this done sooner than later. “I should be heading back now, anyways.”

Suguru had already absorbed the curse tormenting the village last night. You can feel the sticky aftertaste in your mouth. He should have left the village yesterday, but the people were insistent he stayed one last day as thanks, feeding him all they could.

Now, it’s obvious that it was a way to butter him up for today.

Her smile grows a bit nervous. She shuffles her feet a bit.

“If it isn't too much.” She starts. “The head of our village asked if you could look at something.” Her eyes darken into disgust.

You fight to keep your smile.

“Of course. Please, lead the way.”

It’s worse than you ever could have imagined.

You’ve seen this play out so many times in Suguru’s memories. He reminisces about this moment a lot. Because of that, you knew this scene too, like the back of your hand.

And yet, seeing two children huddled together on the floor. Nothing could prepare you for that.

The village head is saying something. The woman who Suguru roomed with is yelling at the scared kids, but you can’t hear any of that.

Their clothes were dirty and ripped. Their cheeks were hollow, and they looked like they hadn’t eaten for days. Himiko’s eye looks swollen.

The twins.

The first time you saw them, they stepped aside and let Geto kill you. There’s something oddly poetic about you being on the other side.

They tremble as they continue to look at you, flinch whenever that woman raises her voice. They must think Suguru’s here to kill them.

They’re too young to think like that. They’re too young to see the horrors of this world so soon.

It’s a mistake to look towards the end of their cell. Dirty water and dog food.

How could a human do this to them? How could a mother do this to them?

You feel red. It coarses through your blood, your veins, your soul. It feels like there’s lava right underneath your skin. Shuddering, tittering anger.

There’s more than enough fire to burn down an entire village.

‘Suguru,’ you think to your companion, your tormentor, ‘I think I’m starting to get it now.’

You reach for the bars of the cell. The twins shrink away.

“Ah! Mr. Geto, you musn’t get too close to them—”

“I’ll take them.”

“What?” The head of the village asks.

“The children.” You straighten yourself up. “I’ll take them off your hands.”

It’s pointless to do anything to these people. They’re delusional enough to think that they’re in the right. By torturing these children, they’re protecting their own. It’s fear. That’s all it ever was. Even without a curse, it’ll fester on and on until this village is nothing but abandoned homes. There’s no point to punish these people any further.

If you look at the adults a bit too long, you’re afraid of what you’d do, even without Suguru’s interference. Instead, you focus on Himiko and Nanako, looking into their wary gazes. Their hands are so tiny. You could protect them with your own.

When you got out of this backward village, you’d find them something to eat.

ⴵ

You go to Shoko first.

She looks surprised to see the twins. You can’t imagine why. Still, her voice is calm when she speaks to them, setting both of them up in the clinic room. Since you got them into the car, Nanako and Himiko seemed to calm down. Himiko even told you the name of her doll.

A little while later, Yaga comes for a visit. He’s the principal now. Usually, his voice is filled with gruff, but he’s oddly gentle when he speaks to them. Nanako cracks a shy smile.

You can’t escape the ‘we’ll talk later’ look he gives you. Inwardly, you sympathize with Suguru. But a harsh lecture is better than being branded a murderer.

He hasn’t come by, yet. With the twins aided for, you decide to go find him yourself.

Walking through campus feels a little nostalgic. The grounds of the infamous jujutsu technical college are a bright green. It’s summer again. You’ve met so many colorful characters since your time here. You’ve only seen snippets, mere seconds of their lives, and yet it feels like an entire lifetime.

He’s sitting on a bench when you finally see him, nursing a drink. He doesn’t acknowledge you. You have to roll your eyes at his childish behavior, plopping down beside him.

“Hey.” You say first.

“Heard you adopted two kids,” Satoru says, “Never thought Suguru would be a teen mom, but here we are.”

You laugh, light and breathless. The sky is so pretty today.

“I don’t think he’d have it any other way, personally.” You respond.

He reminisces on your words.

“This happened before too?” He asked.

It did. It was a lot less of a happy ending, however.

“Yeah,” you say regardless, “he took good care of them last time. He’ll do the same in this timeline too. I’m sure of it.”

And this time, he’d have help. Shoko, Satoru, his teachers. They’d all be there for him. Suguru’s memories haven’t changed yet, but you know the future you step into will be a different one.

“In any case, I’m glad I got to see jujutsu tech one last time. It’s a beautiful campus.”

“You act like you’re leaving,” Satoru says, uncaring. “You’ll just come back again next month. Or next year.”

You play with your fingers.

“I...won’t be doing that from now on.”

He pauses. Then, he looks at you.

“What?”

You can’t gauge his reaction, but he doesn’t look happy. You find this a bit hard to swallow.

“I fixed the future.” You smile at him. “I finally did it. Suguru won’t break. Himiko and Nanako won’t lose their father. You won’t lose a friend, anymore. There’s no reason for me to keep coming back. You’re all free.”

You phrased the last part as a joke, but Satoru isn’t laughing.

“Wait, you’re leaving? You’re...leaving leaving.”

You nod. “I can’t believe it either.” You still can’t believe you accomplished everything you set out to do. A task that seemed so impossible, now you’re standing on the other side of it.

It wasn’t truly over. Not really, but you were able to get Suguru through the worst of it. Now, you were sure Satoru and Shoko would take up your mantel, pushing Suguru through the finish line. Just like he’ll do to them.

Satoru’s quiet.

“You seem happy.” He notes.

“Well, I did just save everyone, I think I deserve to feel a little good about myself.”

For a moment, you want to ask if it’ll be okay to visit everyone in the future. To see how Shoko and Suguru and Satoru are doing as adults. You stop yourself. Of course, they wouldn’t want to see you. You needed to stop being so greedy.

This, was more than enough.

“Will you at least tell me your name?” Satoru asks.

“You know I can’t do that.” You tell him with a smile.

“Right right.” He laughs, it sounds hollow. “Time travel, bullshit. Makes sense.”

“I’ll miss you.” You tell him.

He straightens himself up.

“I’ll miss you too, old man.” He responds. “You were a lotta’ fun to mess with.”

For once, you aren’t offended by the old man’, comment. If anything, it feels somber.

“Can I ask for some advice?” He suddenly asks. “Y’know what they say, ask the old and wise or whatever.” Okay, now he was starting to push it.

“What is it?”

It’s his turn to shuffle with his fingers.

“What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it?”

You glance at him. He looks earnest. Did something like that even exist for Satoru?

“Something I can’t catch up to?” You ponder out loud. “I guess I’d have to make a big enough ruckus to where it has no choice but to look back.”

He frowns. “That makes no sense. You’re growing senile.”

You laugh. You’ll miss this brat.

You wish you could stay more. You wish you could ask about Haibara, and Shoko, and Nanami, but the clock is ticking.

Suguru’s getting impatient.

“Bye, Satoru.” You reach out your hand.

He scrutinizes it, before clasping it within his own.

“Yeah, Greeny.”

Within a blink, you’re back again in the middle of Shinjuku. December 24th, 7:06 pm.

It’s the same as always. People bustle around you. Children’s laughter. Everything always repeats itself, but you don’t think you can ever get sick of it. You’ll savor this peace for as long as you can.

You reach into your pocket, flicking out a lighter and the first cigarette of the box. You don’t know why you always chose this one. Despite outmaneuvering time itself, perhaps it’s within human nature to follow what’s written stone.

You’ve relived this hour so many times that you can list everything that happens. Down to the exact minute. 7:08- a little girl wearing a red dress walks by. 7:09- a lady with short hair catches your eyes and smiles. 7:14-an old man and woman bicker with each other as they pass you by. 7:21- A little dog sniffs the bench you sit on. 7:34- Two schoolchildren run past you, babbling. 7:45- five construction workers grumble out their grievances. 7:58- a businessman talks loudly on the phone.

You wait. You sit on a bench and wait until 8:06.

Five seconds after 8:06. Twenty seconds after 8:06.

The clock clicks to 8:07.

You were expecting to feel something else. Celebration. Elation. You half-expected to cause a scene and jump for joy right there in the streets of Shinjuku.

None of that comes. There’s just a feeling of relief. A weight presses you down, and you slump in your seat.

It was over.

It was finally over.

How long do you stay like that? Hours? Days? When you feel like you can finally breathe again, it’s only 8:12. Time travel warped your sense of time.

You stand up, stretch, feel your bones crack and pop. In the second timeline, you wanted to get a drink to drown your misery of nearly getting killed by a curse and being alone on December 24th. It felt like a lifetime ago when being single was the worst of your problems.

Honestly, you’d stay celibate for the rest of your life if it meant you wouldn’t have to go through that ever again.

Tomorrow, you’ll decompress and devolve into hysteria over what happened.

Next week, you’ll check yourself into therapy.

Today, you decide to go home and sleep for a couple hundred years.

You must look like a zombie with the way you wobble down the street. Physically, your body is perfectly fine. You’ve suffered no bruises or cuts. Even the numerous times you’ve been killed leaves nothing on your skin.

Mentally, you’re in shambles. The indomitable human spirit within you is snuffed out.

The stairs to your flat is your last enemy that you must vanquish before you can reunite with your adoring bed. You cling onto the railing with dazed eyes. You don’t see the curse until you’re right before it.

Distantly, you wonder how often you’ve passed a curse and didn’t even realize it. It’s almost instinct to reach out with your hand, intent on absorbing it.

Nothing happens. You remember you aren’t Suguru anymore.

It’s a grotesque-looking thing. No eyes, too many hands, a gaping mouth. It turns and looks at you.

Strange. Its’ smile mirrors the one in the abandoned house.

Adrenaline. You feel it coarse through your veins, meld into your bones, explode in your skin. You’re stumbling back, nearly tripping down the steps in your haste to get away.

It screeches. Loud and clear and angry and you can almost feel its teeth chomp on your leg, ripping your muscles and skin to mere tatters.

You’ve died before. You’ve been skinned alive before. You’ve been eaten before. Yet, it all amounts to nothing compared to the fear you feel at the thought of the curse catching you.

It can’t have been nothing more than a third grade. If you were taller, larger, special-grade, you could have killed it immediately. But you weren’t, not anymore, you were at the same level as a plant. Useless. Helpless.

A dead man stumbling, tripping, running.

The streets were quiet. You supposed that meant there’d be fewer casualties. But it didn’t make you feel any better. And even if there were people around, no one would have been able to help you.

Your brain isn’t working as clearly. Fear is the only thing that guides you. You’re reduced to a rat scampering through a maze. Sooner or later, that rodent reaches a dead end.

The alleyway was blocked off. You felt the rough brick wall scrape your hands and even the feeling of your raw skin couldn’t assuage your heart pumping in your throat. When you whirled your head back, it was right there, and you knew you were dead.

Again.

I might kill you, if it’s feeling generous. It might cut your legs off and watch you bleed, if its feeling kind. It might eat you, if it’s a decent curse.

It shouldn’t be happening. You fixed it. You were supposed to have fixed everything. But clearly you didn't. There must have been some piece of the puzzle that you forgot. Just one thing and if you go back and fixed it, everything would be okay. You forgive Suguru—

You don’t see what happens. One moment, the curse is there. The next it isn’t.

“Those things are so annoying.” The newcomer complains.

No, not new. You know him.

You blink. He grins. It’s kind. A toothy smile that warms.

“You alright?” He asks in sympathy. “Curses are pretty scary, aren’t they? Are you hurt?”

It’s him. You weren’t in 2006. You were in the present, here and now, and he was here with you.

He actually made it.

“Ma’am?” He asks.

It wasn’t intentional. You just blurted it out, the promise you made to him. It was a decade for him. Mere hours for you.

“Um, broccoli head...?” And then you instantly regret it.

Haibara Yu takes a minute, eyes squinting like you just grew a new head.

Then, he gasps.

“Greeny?”

ⴵ

A few minutes later, you’re seated at a restaurant. Haibara has not shut up.

“—I—I can’t believe it? It’s actually you! I thought I’d never see you again ‘cuz Gojo said you weren’t gonna be around anymore, and—and then suddenly you pop up outta’ nowhere—not that I’m complaining— but—”

“—Haibara.” You interrupt. “Please, slow down.”

He stops himself, right when the server comes with drinks. He shoots the waiter a smile, and then he’s back on you.

“Sorry.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I—I got a little excited. And nervous. It’s just...well, I didn’t expect you to be a girl.”

That might have been your fault. Both Haibara and Gojo kept referring to you as a man, so you decided to roll with it. Earlier, you would have justified it by insisting the less they know about you, the better. Now, you just think you were being petty.

“So, how you’ve been? A whole decade...” You murmur to yourself.

“Fine! But what about you?” Haibara asks, concern etched into his eyes. “Where’d you go?”

Wow, he was actually worried for you. Despite being in Suguru’s body, you didn’t really feel like part of the group Shoko, Gojo, Nanami, and Haibara were part of. You felt like an outsider, being somewhere you didn’t belong. It's because you were an outsider. Nevertheless, it’s nice to know one person missed you.

“This might be a little hard to believe, but I just came back to 2017 two hours ago.”

Haibara gapes.

“Wait, so to you, that whole thing happened, today?” You nod. He leans back in his chair.

“Holy fuck.” You laugh at his awe.

“Thanks for saving me, by the way.” You change the topic. “From the curse.”

He waves it off. “I was just paying my debt. From what you did for me all those years ago.”

Ah, Gojo must have told him. Oddly enough, Haibara doesn't seem all that perturbed that he shouldn’t exist currently. At the same time, it feels just like Haibara.

He’s different from when he was younger. Taller. The baby fat is gone. His face is more built, just like the rest of his body. His eyes are less round, but they haven’t lost the spark. A few scars here and there, but he’s all in one piece.

You weren’t able to see what he looked like as an adult from Suguru’s memories, he’d never grown up. But now, you can see it for yourself. You can see the active change you made in his life, to his life.

“Haibara—”

“Yu—” He says seriously. “My friends call me Yu.”

A smile twitches on your lips.

“Tell me about everyone.” You scoot your chair closer. “You, Suguru. How is everyone doing?”

He perks up at that, clearly delighted to be talking.

“Great! Everyone’s doing great! You should totally come visit the school, sometime. They’d love to see you. Uh, even if they don’t technically know you, but I’m sure they’ll love to meet you!” He rambles, and it’s nice to know he hasn’t changed from his younger self.

“Let’s see, Kento’s teaching the first years. I teach the second years—”

“—You’re a teacher?”

He nods. “We all are! Except for Shoko, but she has her own thing going on. Anyway, Mimiko and Nanako have become second-grade semi-sorcerors. Isn’t that incredible? I’m just a first grade semi-sorceror, and at their young ages too! But Suguru wasn’t surprised, he kept saying his girls were prodigies. Oh! You probably want to know about Suguru too, right?”

You nod. Even if you hadn’t done anything, you don’t think that would have stopped his enthusiasm.

“He’s a teacher too! At least, for right now. Yaga’s been wanting to retire, and there have been talks of Suguru becoming the next principal. Principal Geto has a ring to it, right? Oh, and Shoko is currently planning the wedding. You’ll definitely be invited, of course! She said I could bring a plus-one. Oh, and—”

It goes on like that for hours, you think. Not that you mind. You listen to Yu babble on and on about his friends, his students. He talks about Nanami’s recent baking addiction, Shoko’s new office cat, Suguru’s favorite tea pot. It’s a never-ending surge of information.

Eventually, you catch on to the fact that he’s deliberately leaving someone out.

"Yu?" You interrupt him while he's talking about the prank the fourth year pulled on Nanami. "What about Satoru? What's he up to?"

Maybe you were overthinking things. Haibara likes to talk; perhaps he forgot to exclude someone else's story in his rants. But then, he grimaces. For the first time in this entire conversation, Haibara is reluctant to talk.

"Satoru is..." He winces, and your hands turn into fists.

No. No. You were supposed to save everyone. Why hadn't you saved everyone?

A warm hand grips your own. You'd been shaking.

Yu gives a soft smile, and you remember he's no longer younger than you.

"He's not dead." He assures you, but his smile fades. He straightens himself up, and his hand pulls away.

"Satoru defected from Jujutsu tech. We don't know where he is."

What? You must have misheard him wrong. Satoru wouldn't do that. That's not like him. This is some sick joke.

But there's no teasing grin on Haibara. His face is grave. You hate it more than anything.

"It happened when he was a fourth year. No one really knows what happened. Suguru refuses to say anything about it, but I think he's just as confused as the rest of us. It came outta nowhere."

Yeah, it definitely came out of nowhere. It's so random. Why would Satoru do that? The last time you saw him, he was so happy. He was smiling; he teased you. What happened? It made no sense.

"So, you haven't seen him for nine years?" You ask. "Not even a glimpse?"

Yu shakes his head. "Nothing but his residuals. That's how we know he's still alive."

Nothing computes in your brain. None of it made any sense. You saved Suguru. That was supposed to make everyone happy, including Satoru. Why would he turn around and do this? Defecting made no sense.

"We've actually been tasked to execute him. Since he’s been branded a curse user, all four of us. " Yu laughs with no humor. "Isn't that insane? I don't think any one of us could even fathom doing that, even if it were possible."

It wasn't possible. Gojo was the strongest. Nothing could go toe to toe with him. Once he put his mind to something, no one could stop him.

But maybe you could.

You're shutting that idea down immediately. You were done. You were done with dying and time-travel and strange powers. You wanted it all to be over. It'd be so easy to thank Haibara for the nice meal, to go home and sleep this entire day off. Satoru dug his own grave, he can go lay in it. You weren't responsible for someone else's actions. You wouldn’t. You can’t do that another time.

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?

You hate that brat so much.

You close your eyes. Take in a breath. Then, you open them.

"Haibara?" You ask. "Did Gojo tell you how my technique worked?"

He shakes his head. You grimace because convincing him might take a while.

"Okay, well, I'll need you to do a tiny favor for me."

ⴵ

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Oh, you're back already?" Satoru says casually, turning back to gaze at you. "I just left today. How did you convince Haibara to snap your neck? That guy cries after killing a mosquito.”

You’d caught him just as he was leaving campus. Yu’s body was less athletic than Suguru’s. Your breath was slightly ragged, pulled down by minor exhaustion.

It doesn’t weigh down your frustration for Gojo Satoru. The biggest pain in your ass you’ve ever met.

“Shut up.” You snap. “Just answer the question.”

“We haven’t seen each other for a year and that’s how you react?” Satoru ignores you. “That’s mean, Greeny. How ‘bout we discuss my treason over steak. Haibara can pay.”

“Satoru.” You beg, “Why are you doing this? What’s the point? Why is everyone happy with their life except for you?”

That seems to get him. His posture stiffens ever so slightly. You can see him work his jaw. He finally drops his act.

“You didn’t have to come back, y’know.” He murmurs quietly. “You could’ve just stayed in the future. Like you said, Greeny, everyone’s happy with their life. 4 outta’ five. That’s a passing grade.”

For once, you wish you could possess him. You wished you could open his brain and peer into his memories until he finally made sense.

“I could never leave you behind like that.” You say the truth just as quietly. “I’ll die a thousand more deaths than do that.”

He smiles. It looks genuine as it looks painful.

“Yeah, I know. I know you, Greeny. Always gotta’ play hero.” He gives a bitter laugh. “That’s why I defected.”

You stare at him. He’s a fourth-year now, even taller than before. You aren’t equal to him anymore in this body, now you’re starting to think you never were.

“Satoru.” You start because what he’s saying can’t be the truth. Your heart broke and broke. “Did—did you leave—did you leave everyone for a decade just so I’d come back? Why would you do that to yourself?”

He doesn’t say anything. Then, he steps forward, just a bit.

“It’s your fault,” Satoru says like it’s instinct to blame you for his actions, “this was your idea.”

What’s he talking about? And then memories of the two of you sitting on that bench just outside of campus.

What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it? So that’s what he meant. You were an idiot.

“That’s not fair, Satoru,” you say regardless, “I—I never—I couldn’t expect you’d do this.”

“What choice did I fucking have, Greeny?” There’s rapid steps and he’s in front of you, desperate and wild. “You—you just left me here. You left me alone and I couldn’t even look for you because I know nothing about you. Your face, your eyes, your hair, not even your fucking name! How’s that fair?”

It’s true. It’s all true. As much as you tried to claim you tried to make everyone happy, you only focused on Suguru. And Suguru’s happiness enlisted space from the strongest. In a different timeline, things would be different between them. A button he never left behind. Words Satoru never said. That timeline held too much pain and suffering, so you scrubbed it from history. In this rendition, everything was changed. Suguru had Shoko. Yu had Kento. Who did Satoru have?

You saved Suguru in this timeline. But to save him, you neglected Satoru.

Satoru must have known. He must have known you intentionally distanced Suguru from him, but he allowed it anyway. Satoru’s selfless like that. Too giving. Too Godlike.

But he’s selfish too. Purposefully demeaning himself so he could get one more glimpse of you, uncaring if you went through hell for his sake. Too taking. Too human.

Once, you told him that if he was selfish, just once, you wouldn’t fault him. What a liar you are.

You forgive Satoru.

“I’m sorry.” Haibara’s voice is like your own. You step closer. His infinity lets you in. “I’m sorry Satoru. I didn’t mean to leave you alone.”

It’s hard to wrap him in a hug. The brat’s too big. He sinks into your touch like a tiger, filled with dangerous claws, retracted just for your sake. He shakes the tiniest bit; even now, he’s keeping himself as a pinnacle. If you hear a sniffle or two, you don’t comment on it.

It’s why your heart breaks to tell him the truth.

“I can’t give you my name.” You whisper in his ear. He pulls back. He doesn’t look at you.

“Yeah, I know. I know. time-travel bullshit—”

“For now.” You add. “I can’t do that for now.”

Three pairs of eyes look at you. You’re not hiding behind Haibara anymore. You’re not trying to.

“December 24th, 2017. 8:06. Tokyo Skytree.” You look at him. “Can you wait until then?”

For you, it’d only be an hour. For Satoru, it’d be a decade.

You expect him to reject it, to yell at you. You decide if he wants to be selfish; you’d let him.

“If you don’t show up, I’ll turn evil.” You laugh. His grin widens and he’s back again. “I’m serious. I’ll take over the world. I’ll throw the biggest temper tantrum ever.”

“You’re such a brat.” There’s no hostility in your tone. “I will. I promise.”

‘I’ll save you,’ You promise in your head because he’s too prideful to hear it.

“Is it still possible for you to go back?” You ask, the wariness present again. “The higher ups haven’t taken any action against you, right?”

He shakes his head.

“I think Yaga might yell at me, but other than that.” He shrugs. “They’ll decide it’s teen rebellion and sweep it under the rug.”

You laugh again. Satoru shoots you a toothy grin.

When you reach out a hand, Satoru mirrors you. He clasps your hand in his. For once, you wonder how they’ll feel on your own.

“See ya’ later, Greeny.”

A blink. Satoru’s gone. Your hand is empty, and you’re standing in the streets of Shinjuku once again.

ⴵ

December 24th, 2017. 8:06, at the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

Why did you decide on that date and time for all the places? You were so fucking stupid. You needed to stop being so poetic.

It’s already 7:12 when you’re desperately waving down a taxi. The driver looks disinterested when you blubber out the location. When he tells you it’ll cost extra because Sumida City isn’t part of his route, you’re more than happy to fork over the money.

It’s already 7:35 when you stumble through the interiors of Tokyo Skytree town. It’s crowded. Fuck, it’s December 24th, of course people would be out and about.

At 7:44, you finally reach the observational building. And then you hit upon a snag.

It’s closed.

Renovations, the sign reads, accompanied by an irritatingly cute drawing of a cat, please come visit us next week.

Would this excuse be enough to satisfy Satoru? You’re only human. Surely he’d understand if you couldn’t make it because the entire building was shut down.

Or wait. Was this Satoru’s doing?

You look up at the tower. Lights were still on and flickering. No crowds. No people. No prying eyes.

Let it be known that you’ve never trespassed before, until you met Gojo Satoru.

With a guilty conscious, you step over the line. You justify it by convincing yourself you were saving the world because you know Satoru wasn’t joking a decade ago.

The elevators still worked. Thank God. Yet another hint he’s paving the way for you. You made the location, but it feels like you’re a mouse stuck in a human-designed maze. Even though you set up the game, he’s still managed to rig it.

You land on the first deck at 7:52. At 7:56, you reach the second observational deck.

It’s empty. You’ve never seen the skytree so empty before. Not a single soul is here except for you. Your footsteps echo across the floor. Were you early?

Out the corner of your eye, there’s a post-it note stuck on the window. A hand-drawn arrow. Up ahead, there’s another one.

You follow the next, and then the next. All the time you don’t know how to feel about him doing all of this just for an encounter. Something bubbles in your stomach. You’re pushing it down.

You follow the post-its until there’s one placed right on top of a door.

Authorized personnel only. Why does this brat continue to test you?

But it’s already 8:03; you’re far too deep to complain.

A service elevator greets you. If you press the button, it’ll take you all the way up to the broadcast equipment, the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

It’s different from the past two elevator rides. The service elevator isn’t all that polished. The wheels squeak a little too dangerously at times. It’s slower, too.

That’s bad, because now you’re starting to think.

That familiar feeling boils within your stomach, again. You’re anxious. It’s strange to say, but meeting Satoru through Suguru, meeting Satoru through Yu, it felt like you had a protective shell around yourself. You were free from his judgement, only invoking curiosity.

If you show yourself to him, how would he react? What would he say? Would he get angry that you made him wait a decade for such a blunder? Even worse, what if he doesn’t get angry?

What if—what if he’s disappointed by you?

Cold feet. It freezes your toes. You want to go back. You want the elevator to go back down, you want to go home and hide away.

But you promised Satoru. He deserves answers.

Pathetic answers are better than no answers at all.

Instead of your soul being protected by a sorcerer's body, it’s protected by your own. You’d steel yourself for whatever comes next. You could melt after.

It’s windy up here. That’s the first thing you notice. Icy wind cuts at your face and your eyes squint so they don’t dry out so quickly. It’s colder, too; your jacket is nice protection, but nothing helps your vulnerable hands.

But the view. Oh, what a view.

The sea of twinkling lights shines from the city. The sun has set, leaving Tokyo to do nothing but shine. She’s gorgeous like she’s picked the stars from the sky, burying them within her own soul. You could stay there forever, if she let you.

It’s 8:09. Satoru was late.

Or maybe he just wasn’t planning to show up.

You lean away from the railing. It’s just like him to make huge gestures and at the last moment, ditch everything. The balloon in your lungs deflates ever so slightly.

And then, you can feel hands.

Around your shoulders, caging you in. Large and warm despite the icy air. You know these hands. They’re familiar, even a decade later. His chest presses up against your back. His face settles in the crook of your neck.

His laugh tickles your ear, and you aren’t so cold anymore.

“Caught ya, Greeny.”

(“Did something happen to you, back there in the house?”

"Hm?" Suguru asked.

They were wading through long grass and overgrown weeds. Satoru glances at his friend. Suguru looks fine. His cursed energy has gone back to normal. That's probably good.

"You were just acting weird," Satoru said, "I mean you fell on your ass in front of a curse. Embarrassing."

Suguru huffed, a red hue across his cheeks. "Shut up, don't remind me."

'So he remembered,' Satoru thinks, 'didn't expect that.'

They're almost to the car when Suguru speaks again.

"Actually, I did feel a little strange," he says, "I felt like I wasn't really all there. There was this voice, guiding me along."

"Really?" Satoru shivers. "So like possession? How scary!"

So the entity within Suguru was a bad thing after all. He should try to get rid of it if it ever comes back. It might take a complex spell or something-

"Not really." Suguru said. "It's hard to explain, but it felt....nice."

"Nice?" Satoru echoes.

"Yeah."

And then it's quiet again.)

#yandere #yandere jjk #yandere gojo satoru #x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #time travel fix it #a crumbling storyline #platonic haibara x reader #dark content #f!reader #implied romance #tw:blood/violence #tw: child abuse #unrequited feelings #ambiguous ending #BUT its a positive one

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seospicybin · 12 hours

Text

BAD IDEA, RIGHT?

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Synopsis: Your ex, Chan, makes a return to his social media with a thirst trap. Horny and bored, you decide to see him for the sole reason of getting your physical needs fulfilled. However, as the night goes, you start to wonder if seeing him tonight is a bad idea. (14,4k words)

Author's note: Yes, it's inspired by that one Olivia Rodrigo song.

Talking to your ex is a bad idea, right?

You've been considering whether to slide into his DM or not, commenting on his Instastory which is a video of him exercising half naked, exposing his toned upper half body in all its glory.

It's been two years after the breakup and he didn't post anything on his social media until today, it's like he knows you're bored and horny.

It's unclear whether it's him or it's your uterus talking, but he looks hotter, sexier, and bigger than the last time you saw him. Although you must admit that he's always been attractive to you, except that his attractiveness is on a whole 'nother level now and it makes you wonder why you let this man go in the first place.

In your defense, Chan is not a terrible ex, he decided to break up with you because he was leaving to study abroad and thought the long-distance relationship would be hard and mentally draining for both of you.

You acted like it didn't hurt you but when you came home that night, you cried so hard that your pillow got drenched in tears. You didn't want to break up with him because he's a great guy who happens to be great in bed too, not only because he has the most delicious cock you've ever had but he also knows how to put it to a good use. Simply put, you were so devastated thinking that you'd never find a man like him again.

And you know what? You were right. You tried dating a few times but nothing comes close to what you had with Chan. Also, can't two people reconnect?

Before you get to change your mind again, you decide to hit the like button and send a short message in his DM.

Hey, there. You type into the message box, adding a smiling emoji at the end to make it sound casual but friendly at the same time.

There's no reply or a sign that he's read your message, you figure he must be busy on a Saturday morning, he could be having another session at the gym or having breakfast, or... yeah, it could be him ignoring your messages.

Slightly hangover from hanging out with your friends last night, you slump down your bed and close your eyes to get another few minutes of sleep.

You wake up an hour later with more than a dozen notifications on your phone, they're mostly your friends sending photos they took of you last night. You groan when you see a couple of work emails and do not think twice to skip them. There are some texts from friends and then, there it is, a reply from Chan.

Well, hello, there!

It's been ages.

How are you?

You check the time and his replies came about fifteen minutes ago, there's a possibility that he's still on his phone and he'll respond faster this time.

Never been better.

How about you?

Looking fine as ever, I see.

You add the eyes emoji before hitting the send button and drop your phone onto the bed, it's a bit risky but a compliment never hurt. Besides, who doesn't like getting a compliment?

The thought that Chan is probably waiting for your reply in those fifteen minutes amuses you but pfft... that's just your wishful thinking.

As you wait for his response, you're checking the photos your friends sent you. You check them one by one, deleting the ones that you don't like and saving the good ones where you look flattering.

An idea pops into your head as you go through your gallery: a plan. First, you choose a photo of you that shows your whole look last night, dressed in a blue mini dress and strappy heels with your hair up, tied in a messy bun, in other words, you looked hot and you felt like it when your friend took the picture.

You upload it as your Instagram story and wait until it is successfully uploaded. You're sure as hell he'll see your new post, then he'll get curious and open it, and Wowza!

Chan thinks he can be the only one posting a thirst trap on a Saturday morning, huh?

It only takes a minute for the thirst trap to do its job, you smirk at the notifications and see Chan's username on the top.

Me? He adds three flustered emojis to it.

Nah. I'm not.

But you...

You look beautiful as always.

Is it even allowed to look that beautiful?

A year of being single makes you weak at the slightest chance of romance, you catch yourself smiling to yourself in the mirror. You slap yourself to get ahold of yourself, reminding yourself that he could say that just to—

A notification pops up and it shows that Chan liked and reacted to your Instagram story with the hearts eyes emoji. Fuck! You just caught yourself smiling again. but what can you do? You're just a girl who is lonely and in need of some loving touch.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and think about what to reply to him.

And you...

Is it even allowed to have that much of muscles?

Someone, please close the gym!

You look good nonetheless, Chris.

But seriously, close the gym! You add a laughing emoji to keep it playful.

You patiently wait for his reply but your patience only lasts for twenty minutes until he makes you wait longer for his reply and you slump on the bed again.

It's time for plan number two!

The thirst trap worked to pique his interest and you have to come up with something that shows you're a hot commodity, you don't waste your time chasing boys, they chase you. That way, Chan will respond to your message faster.

So here comes plan number two, you take another trip to your gallery, scrolling through photos from last night, and find the perfect photo. It's a picture of you and one of your male friends, you're standing side by side, holding your drinks together and smiling to the camera. There's enough friendliness in there to show that you're close with this guy but also, not that close. You don't know how to explain it, but you know it'll work.

You wait a few more minutes to add it to your Instagram story, not forgetting to tag your friend which is the best part of it. If anyone checks his account, they'll see a model with blue eyes, just the perfect guy to make certain someone is jealous.

You're devilishly laughing as you hit the post button and wait until it is successfully uploaded. You check to see the final result and smile in satisfaction.

Okay, maybe you were too haste and didn't do your calculation right because morning has turned into afternoon and Chan hasn't replied to you. Not only did he make you wait, but you also wasted three hours of your day staring at the ceiling with the phone resting on your chest.

At this point, you should've given up and maybe it's true, he only replied just to be friendly, nothing more. You fling your phone across the bed out of spite and get up, planning to wash him away from your head with a hot shower.

Against the loud sound of the hairdryer, you hear your phone chimes and you turn it off to check whether you're imagining it chimes or not.

You hate how quickly you forget how upset you were a while ago after seeing your phone light up with new notifications.

I'm sorry for replying late.

I was busy moving some stuff.

Do you have time?

And you hate it more that he can easily get your hopes up again. You figure it's time he tastes his own medicine, you put your phone away and leave him on read. You'll reply later when you feel like it, or never. Who knows?

You continue drying your hair but the constant hum of the hairdryer makes you unable to hear your thoughts, especially one that stops you from going to your phone again as it chimes with a new notification. It only takes twenty minutes for you to cave into the temptation.

I don't know about you but all these chats, they're not enough.

Can we video call instead?

It takes you not even a minute to say yes to him. You make a run to your closet and change your clothes, picking up a white top with a low neckline, ditching the bra, and pairing it with denim shorts.

Chan doesn't give you a minute to choose the setting of the video call, your phone rings as you try to make the bed as best as you can and sit with your back against the headboard of the bed.

The phone keeps ringing but you need to check your hair in the mirror again to finally accept the video call. A second later, Chan's face appears on your phone screen, and from his damp hair, it seems like he's just taken a shower too.

"Hey," he greets you as he brushes his curls with his hand.

"You look a little wet, Chris," you tease with a sly smile.

Chan moves, changing his sitting position and revealing himself in a bathrobe with his chest all exposed. Intentional or not, you must admit that's quite a show!

"I was feeling hot so I took a quick shower," he answers with a grin.

"Feeling hot, huh?" You tease again.

"I am now," he playfully responds, flashing you a sly smile and lip bite.

The two of you just stare at each other through the screen and it's getting too much for you with how intense his eyes are.

"So, where are you now?"

"I'm actually in the city," he shortly replies.

"Oh? You're back!" You gasp but hold yourself back from continuing the sentence and ask if he's back for good. The most important thing is he's confirmed his location, all you need to find out next is if he's up to do no good with you.

"Kind of," he vaguely answers.

"Kind of..." you teasingly repeat his words and then giggle.

Chan grins and rests his back against a pillow, it's unclear if he's sitting on the bed or the sofa, "Oh, how I missed that," he says.

You take a pillow and put it on your lap as something to hold on to, "Missed what?"

"Your sweet smiles and cute giggles," he shortly answers like he's been waiting for you to ask him that.

"Oh, stop it, Chris!" You respond, getting a little flustered that you melt onto your pillow. You may as well lie down on your stomach and put the pillow under your chest, "You're getting good at lying, huh?"

"Yeah. Nah. Just a little bit," he jokingly says, then bursts into laughter that his dimples sunken deep into his cheeks.

And oh, you missed his dimpled smiles and his sonorous laughter too, but you're not going to tell him that, maybe not now, or ever.

To avoid it escalating really quickly, you shift the conversation elsewhere. You prop a hand under your chin and tilt your head to the side while the other hand steadily holds your phone far enough from your face.

"So, what are you doing now?"

"Staring at your face," he answers, a half smirk decorating his rectangular face.

"Just my face?" You jokingly ask with a flirty lip bite.

"Everything else too," he adds, catching his eyes flicking down for a second then smirks.

You act oblivious to the fact that with the way you lie on your stomach, you're offering him a view of your cleavage and he would be stupid if he missed the sign.

"What I meant is what are you doing in the city? Is it for work or...?"

"I need to sort a few things," he vaguely explains.

It's obvious that he's keeping the details from you and you have to respect that, he's not your boyfriend and even if he is, he's not obligated to tell you everything. Including the possibility that he came here to see his new girlfriend, perhaps?

"Oh? So, all business, no pleasure?" You joke with a light chuckle, hiding your true intention to know whether he's seeing anyone or not.

"I'm free tonight and I was hoping that we could meet," He says, shattering the negative thoughts that rush through your head.

Now, that gets you thinking if he's coming here to see you and you get that fluttering feeling in your stomach, or it could be your uterus ovulating as you speak, either way, you like it.

"Tonight?" You ask, acting like you already have a plan for tonight.

"Yes. Or do you already have plans for tonight?"

The act always works, gosh, you should consider to start a career as an actor, "Not really, but uh... where do you want us to meet?"

"There's a nice bar in the hotel I'm staying in. We can have a drink or two," he replies, then licks his lips and makes them appear wet and fuller, tantalizing you to kiss them.

Despite you feeling like screaming and jumping on the bed, you remain coy about it, reminding yourself to not sound eager but show enough enthusiasm.

You pretend to consider it for a moment, tilting your head to the other way and saying, "Hotel bar has better drinks so... yeah, I'd love a drink or two."

A triumphant smile rises on his face and it's cute that he lets it show, making you feel a lot of things in a few seconds.

"I'll see you there, I mean, here at 8?"

You tug your middle finger between your teeth and flash him a seductive smile, "Okay."

"I'll DM you the address."

"Okay," you mutter again while staring at him through the screen on your phone.

"See you tonight then," he says, touching his lips and rubbing the lower lip with his long, dainty finger.

"Can't wait to meet you," he adds.

Instead of answering him, you let out a giggle and sit up on the bed. You flip your hair to the back and just stare at him for a minute without saying anything.

"See you tonight, Chris," you finally reply, making sure to call his name with a low, sultry voice and a sly smile.

Without hesitation, you hang up first and let out a long sigh after. It's just a video call but Gosh! It feels like a foreplay already.

You give yourself a moment to compose yourself before execute plan number three: Dressed to fucking impress. To be honest, you don't even bother with the 'impress' part, you just want to fuck.

See? Talking to him is not a bad idea after all.

The sound of your high heels constantly tapping the marble floor as you walk echoes in the hotel lobby, you're unsure of how to inform him that you've arrived just a few minutes late from the appointed time.

You take your phone out of your purse and are about to compose a message when you catch him holding his hand up at you from the second floor.

You wave your hand back at him and make your way to the stairs, climbing each step with caution because it would embarrassing if you tripped. But looking at Chan waiting for you at the top of the stairs makes it feel like you're living a scene out of a movie.

Even with his signature all-black look, it doesn't make him less princely. He looks dreamy with crinkles in his eyes and a charming smile on his face.

He offers his hand when you're only a couple of steps away from him. You take it and let him guide you on the last steps of the stairs. His grip is firm as you remember and he still has his favorite chain bracelet around his wrist.

"You look gorgeous," he doesn't say it in a dramatic, hyperbolic way but he softly whispers it to you before placing a sweet kiss on your cheek, so close to the corner of your mouth.

The night has just begun but he's already succeeded in making you quietly hold your breath. You put on a smile for him and coyly say, "You look stunning in black as... always."

He laughs and it feels like to see and hear it in person, like you can feel the warmth that his laughs emit.

"Want to have dinner first?" He asks.

"I've had dinner," you answer.

The truth is, you barely had dinner because you were too nervous to eat anything but you did eat a nutrition bar in the taxi.

"This way to the bar then?" He offers his arm at you like a true gentleman.

"Lead the way, sir!" You say as you link your arm around him.

It's only a short walk from the hotel lobby to the bar Chan mentioned, the interior is rather luxurious, leather seats with a live jazz performance. He mutters something to the hostess, probably where he prefers to sit and she nods in response.

"This way, please!" She says with a polite smile, walking like a feline creature in her tight skirt and silk blouse.

You glance to the side to see if Chan is looking at the pretty hostess in front of him, but you find him staring at you instead.

"Is there something on my face?" You ask in slight panic, afraid that you have something in your teeth but he feels bad to tell you.

"No," he simply answers.

"This way, sir, ma'am," the hostess says, gesturing to the booth she chooses for the two of you, a little hidden in the corner of the bar to provide some privacy.

Chan gently places his hand on the small of your back and lets you take a seat first. You have a seat in the middle of the curved sofa and he sits right next to you.

"Can we order drinks right away?" Chan asks as he puts his phone on the table.

"Sure," the hostess answers, slightly bending down to hear him talk clearly, "What would you like to have, sir?"

"I'll have the... Boulevardier," he eloquently says with a slight French accent.

"Excellent choice, sir!" She comments, she then turns her head at you to take your order, "How about you, ma'am?"

Things have been feeling a little surreal for these past few hours your brain is struggling to keep up, you want to be cool and confidently answer the fanciable hostess but it takes you a longer time to process a simple question like that.

"I'd love a daiquiri, please!" You answer, ignoring the fact that it takes you a minute to come up with it.

"Can I recommend you with the Hemingway special? It's a daiquiri with a splash of sweet grapefruit juice and Maraschino liqueur," she eloquently explains, proving that she's not only hired because of her look.

"That sounds amazing. I'd love that," you say with an impressed smile.

After confirming your orders, the hostess left the booth and it's just the two of you now in this nice yet slightly erotic setting of the bar.

"That's a nice dress," he suddenly compliments as he's looking at your face, not at your dress.

The dress goes to your midthigh, it's white and tight enough to showcase your curve. It's long-sleeved but the sweetheart neckline exposed just the right amount of skin. You've been saving it for a special occasion and considering that you haven't met him for two years, you reckon it's time to wear it.

"Just something I had, you know, lying around," you playfully answer.

The drinks come not long after and Chan waits until the server leaves to initiate a toast with you. Your drink is in a glass with a thin stem so you carefully lift it with your fingers.

"Cheers!" You mutter in unison and clink your glasses together.

The first round of drinks went with a conversation that consisted of basic questions. He asks you about work, family, life in general, and everything in between. You must admit that your life is kind of boring but it's nice to know that he wanted to catch up on your life updates.

It's a little disappointing though that he doesn't ask anything about your love life or whether you're seeing anyone or not.

When you deem that you're on the verge of oversharing, you stop talking and shift the focus to him.

"What about you? What are you working on at the moment?" You curiously ask, putting down your drink on the table and leaving one last sip on the fragile-looking glass.

"I'm working on a lot of things right now. From a lot of places too," he answers.

"So, you've been traveling a lot," you remark.

"Yes."

That says something about his relationship status and unless he has learned how to be in a long-distance relationship, then it means he's not seeing anyone right now. Even if he is, there's a big chance that it's noncommittal.

This calls for a celebration so you pick up your drink and drain every last drop of it, delightfully gasping once you swallow it.

"Round 2?" Chan offers.

"Yes."

Now that you've made up your mind about it and from the subtle signals he's sending you so far, it's safe to say that he's up to do no good with you. You smooth down the hem of your dress and flip your hair to the back, preparing yourself to execute plan number four: Make your intention known.

As much as you feel tempted to say 'Chris, let's fuck!' right to his face, you decide not to be haste and go with a more convenient, acceptable way. You plan to be forthright about your intention what you want and if he wanted the same too so the two of you can skip the formalities and go straight to the fucking.

"Chris, I have something to tell you," you say to him.

He positions his body slightly turns to the side to face you and softly smiles, "You can tell me."

You've mustered up the courage and have the words prepared in your head only for the moment to be ruined by your phone ringing in your purse.

"Fuck..." you quietly mutter to yourself, you could sense your courage shrinking inside you.

The phone has stopped ringing but you grab your purse on the space next to you and pull it out to check the caller. A new text message appears on your screen.

Call me. It's urgent. Your friend wrote in her text along with multiple red exclamation marks.

It seems rather urgent, you put on an apologetic smile at Chan and say, "I'm sorry but do you mind if I make a quick call?"

"Not at all," Chan says with an easy smile.

You take your phone with you as you get up from the sofa, leaving the booth at the same time the waiter comes with your second round of drinks.

Finding the way to the restroom, you hit the call button as you enter and stand in front of the sinks, waiting for your friend to pick up while checking for your hair and make-up in the mirror.

"What's the urgency?" You say the second you hear the call being picked up.

"I need to borrow your laptop. Mine is suddenly frozen and I can't reboot it," your friend answers in a rather distressed tone.

Knowing that it's not the kind of urgent you imagined in your head, you let out a sigh of relief and then say, "Yes, yes you can use my laptop."

"I'm already in the elevator to your floor."

"You have the code to my apartment and I'm sure you know where I put my laptop," you calmly tell her, putting the strands of hair to the side and carefully dabbing the skin under your eyes.

"Wait. You're not home?"

"I'm not and I'm not taking any more questions," you immediately stop her before she gets too nosy.

"Don't call me for the rest of the night. Bye!" You don't wait for a response and quickly hang up.

On the way back to your booth, you see Chan enjoying the jazz performance on the stage, tapping his foot against the floor. You didn't notice the way he sat until now, his legs spread open, he's slightly slumped and his long arm rests along the edge of the sofa, plus he left the top three buttons on his shirt open.

Chan looks so hot simply by sitting like that and you're sure you've seen much hotter men but you really can't remember when.

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and slide into the booth again, then slowly sit on the sofa, leaving a gap between you and him.

"Here's your drink," he says, handing the glass to you with such caution.

"Thank you!" You mutter your gratitude.

You're glad that you're taking the recommendation because the Hemingway Daiquiri tastes so refreshing, it's sweet and sour, certainly an upscale from the classic daiquiri.

"I hope the call wasn't something bad," he says to you.

You lick your lips after taking a sip, "Oh, no. It was my friend. She needs to borrow something," you spare him from the details.

It takes a minute to remember where you left the conversation and when you finally recall, you need to take more time to prepare yourself again. You immediately take another sip to quicken the process of building up your courage.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He suddenly comes up with an unexpected request.

Your throat burns from accidentally swallowing your alcohol too fast and you can feel your eyes get teary as well.

"Sure," you manage to answer.

Somehow the gap you purposely put between you and him disappears, he sits so close to you that his knee bumps into yours.

"I've been stalking your Instagram page," he shares with a shy smile.

You snort because he makes it seem like it's an embarrassing thing to say, but you doubt if that's true, he could be saying that to make you feel flattered.

"As far as I can recall, you've been abandoning your account until today," you say, hardly believing his so-called secret.

"That's because I'm using a fake Instagram account," he simply answers.

You snort again and roll your eyes at him, "Yeah, sure."

Chan smirks and picks up his phone, he opens Instagram to show the fake Instagram account he made and it only has one following, you.

"Do you believe me now?"

It's hard to stay calm when you find out that the guy who broke your heart two years ago has secretly been keeping up with you through your social media. You're happy but a part of you is still in denial.

"I mean... why not use your own Instagram?" you ask out of pure curiosity because it's not like you'd mistake this as a sign that he wants to get back with you. You're not that naive nor delusional.

"Then you would know that I regret breaking up with you," he casually answers like he didn't just reveal something profound.

You look at him to check if he's just messing with you and you would know if he's lying cause he's bad at it, but nope, he's telling the truth.

"And you would know that I've been struggling to get over you," he continues with glints filling his doe eyes.

There's an alarm going off in your chest, it's coming from the heart and it's telling you to be cautious, potential heartbreak lies ahead. You get reminded that you came here not to confront your feelings, you came here to get fucked, hopefully hard.

"And I guess you posted your boxing video for a purpose?" You ask with your eyebrow raised at him.

"Well..." he shrugs and slyly grins, "it worked, didn't it?"

As expected, this man has so many tricks up his sleeves. Better be careful as he puts all of his attention on you, his arm slowly makes its way around your shoulder and his hand is playing with your hair.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"No comment," You smirk and take a small sip of your drink.

Chan lets out a laugh, the sonorous one and the kind that makes his eyes form two crescents. He takes a sip of his Boulevardier which is an upscale version of negroni.

"I've been wondering why you stayed single for so long," he says with an underlying tone, implying that he's actually asking you the reason why. Also confirmed his secret stalking behavior.

"It's not that long," you reply, crossing your legs together as you flash him a sly smile.

"A year, isn't it?" He asks.

You groan and roll your eyes at him, "You really are a stalker."

"You can tell me," he playfully elbows your side.

"No. It's a secret," you refuse to share.

"I shared my secret with you and it's only fair if you share yours with me."

"First of all, I didn't ask for your secret," you defend yourself while holding your drink close to your mouth.

He leans to your side, offering his ear at you as he says, "You can whisper it to me."

He means to know the answer anyway so you lean into his ear and cover the side of your mouth, then whisper, "All the guys I've met, they don't have a big cock like yours."

That's a way to get his attention and escalate the tension between the two of you. You pull away with a devilish smirk dancing on your face.

You glance down at his crotch and ask, "Is it still as big as I remember?"

"If you're lucky, you'll get to find out," he plays coy about it and you find it extremely attractive.

Noticing that you've drained your drink, Chan waves his hand to get the two of you another round of drinks. Obviously, you don't want it to end when things have just started to warm up.

He looks at you and then glances down, showing his hand snaking its way to your thigh.

"Have I told you that it's a nice dress?"

"I don't mind hearing it one more time," you respond with a cheeky smile.

He shoots you a big grin while he's playing with the hem of your dress, feeling the fabric between his fingers.

"It's a nice dress," he compliments, then leans in close so that you can feel his warm breath brush your cheek as he adds, "And I want to take it off of you tonight."

You place your hand on his hand that rests on your thigh and play with his bracelet, "if you're lucky, you'll get to do it," you poke fun at him.

You can audibly hear his laugh in your ear as he leans in closer his nose pokes your cheek, "We're even now."

The third drinks bring the tension higher as the two of you relax from every sip and the gap between your bodies gradually disappears.

Chan has his eyes on you all the time, it's overwhelming at times but you like the way he looks at you like an animal who has his eyes on its prey and you like seeing the confliction in his eyes on whether he should eat you whole or play with his food first.

There's so much chemistry and tension here, plus the alcohol, you're only waiting for the light to turn bright green, really.

He gently brushes your hair to the side and keeps it there so he can plant a kiss on the skin behind your ear, knowing that it's your sensitive part of body.

"You change your perfume?"

"Yes," you manage to remain calm despite the proximity and the way he constantly rubs your thigh with his knuckle.

He drags his lips to your ear and asks, "What is it called?"

You lick your lips and make him wait for your answer, "I believe it's called Good Girl Gone Bad."

He tilts his head to the side and looks at you right in the eyes, wide and dark with lust, "How bad?"

You grab the collar of his shirt and tug at it, "If you're lucky, you'll get to find out," you get back at him again.

As he bursts out laughing with his eyes closed, you follow your intrusive thought to cup his jaw with your hand and laugh along.

"That's two to one," you remind him.

He stops laughing only to fondly smile at you, "Remind me how I broke up with you."

"For a start, you acted like an absolute jerk that day," you half-jokingly say.

The truth is it wasn't the breakup that hurt you the most, it's the post-break-up and his total absence from your life, he didn't call or text, or even send a pity email after that day. It felt as if he didn't want you in his life anymore.

Fuck. How did you get here again? Forced to face your feelings. Time to shift the talk.

"It's getting late, don't you think?"

Chan immediately reaches for his phone on the table to check the time, "It's 10.51."

"Oh," you plainly respond and finish you drink.

"Can I have your new numbers?" He suddenly asks.

You put down your glass on the table and answer, "I still have the same phone numbers."

"Yeah but I lost my phone at the airport and had to get a new one, lost all of my contacts," he explains like he knew you thought about how he didn't call you earlier.

Chan hands you his phone so you can enter your phone numbers and hand it back to him once you've finished. He hits the call button instead of saving it first and your phone rings a second later.

"Come on. Pick it up!" He tells you.

You obey him, accepting his phone call even though he's sitting next to you, "Hello?"

"Hi, it's future Chris calling," he says with a mix of foolish and sexy grin, you don't know how but he does it so well.

Curious to see where this talk is going, you decide to play along with him, "If you are really from the future, can you tell me the lottery numbers for this week?"

"I... can't tell you that."

"I'm hanging up," you joke.

"But I can tell you something else."

"Not interested," you put away your phone from your ear.

He glares at you, forcing you to continue playing along with him, "Hear me first!"

"Okay, I'm listening," you say with a dramatic eye roll.

"Future Chris says you need to go to hotel room number 103 tonight."

"Uhm... why?"

"You have to go there if you want to get lucky," he says with his tongue slightly poking out on one corner of his mouth.

"Still not interested," you poke fun, pretending to hang up the phone again.

"You'll regret it," he teases.

"I doubt that," you say with your nose scrunched at him.

Chan gets a little annoyed now, you can tell by the way he has his tongue poking his cheek and the fed-up grin on his face.

"Don't you want to get lucky tonight and find out about..." he pauses as he reaches for the pendant of your necklace and turns it over in his fingers, "the thing you're curious of."

This is it then, your intention matched his intention and the light has turned bright green. You take his hand and put it down onto your lap, then you slide your hand into his palm, "Okay."

"Okay," He says, holding your hand in his then brings it close to his mouth to place a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

As you're waiting for the elevator to arrive, Chan steadily places his hand on the arch of your back and lingers there until the elevator chimes open.

He lets you get in first and you choose to stand on the side, close to the panel full of numbers of the hotel floors and he reaches for it to push the number to his floor.

Should you consider yourself lucky that the elevator is empty? Should you be nervous because you're starting to feel like a prey being locked with its predator inside a small, enclosed space?

No words are being exchanged as the two of you locked in a gaze, but he speaks so much through his eyes, they're fiery, filled with so much want, so much need, and ultimately, desire.

After that much teasing, flirting, alcohol, chemistry, and tension, you've been wondering how the two of you managed to not kiss each other already.

It seems like he's about to make it happen as he comes closer to you, putting his hands on the handlebar and caging you in between. Slowly, he brings his hand close to your face and carefully puts away the strands of hair covering your face to the side, then tucks it behind your ear.

In this proximity, you can see how plush his lips are, how soft and full they are, and it's getting too hard to try to ignore. You look at him, telling him how much you want to kiss him through your eyes and deliberately blink to give him the unspoken permission to kiss you.

The heating moment gets interrupted by the sound of the elevator chimes open and a group of people gets in from the fourth floor.

"Excuse me," a man says as he reaches for the panel to press the number to his floor.

With his hand on your back again, Chan protectively guides you to take a step forward and stands behind you, he puts his arm around your waist with his hand resting on your abdomen.

There's a low chatter going on from the other corner of the elevator but the absence of silence doesn't make it less tense as Chan buries his nose in your hair, you can feel every breath he inhales on the nape of your neck. It feels hot and cold at the same time, making you tingling inside.

He then presses his mouth to your ear and softly whispers, "You're still using the same shampoo, mmh?" His lips graze your ear as he speaks.

Chan puts his other arm on you and quietly, pulls you closer until your back meets his chest, that way you can feel him behind you and his body heat that slowly melts you from the inside.

Quietly, he slides his hand down to the curve of your ass cheek and then gently squeezes the flesh.

"My God, this body..." he whispers with his breath tickles your body, "Makes me want to ruin you so much."

Is it wrong that you don't even want to hide it anymore? You want everyone in the elevator to hear what he just said to you and for a split second, you want Chan to fuck you right there and let everyone watches.

However, Chan suddenly lets go of you and you pout at the sudden loss of contact. Then you notice that the little screen above the panel shows that the elevator is about to stop on the 10th floor.

When it chimes open, you make your way out with Chan trails behind you. None of you look back but keep walking ahead with his hand resting on the arch of your back again, leading you to where his room is. His hand goes lower and lower the further you walk through the hotel corridor.

"This way," he says, guiding your body to take the left corridor.

Without warning, he grabs you by the waist and roughly pulls you with him until he hits his back against the wall, then crashes his mouth on you.

This is not your shared first kiss but this is somehow better than that. The feeling of your lips finally reunited in a rapturous kiss especially when you've been craving it oh, there's nothing like it!

Chan kisses you so hard, so deep, so passionately that you have a hard time returning it to him and breathing becomes a second priority to you.

"I've been wanting to do that all night," he mutters when he lets go of the kiss.

Still gasping for air, you nod and say, "Me too."

To your surprise, he turns you over and has you pinned against the wall this time, he pushes his body against yours as he seeks to be as close to you as possible until there's no inch of gap left between your bodies.

When he deems that you need to breathe, he lets go of your lips only to kiss you on your neck and you tip your head to the side to give him the free access. You let out a low moan as his teeth faintly scrape the skin.

His hands run amok, feeling you all over and touching you through your clothes, eventually his hand cups your breast in his. He kisses your lips again only to distract you from his hand trying to pull down the front of your dress and after a few tries, he manages to send your breast spilling which he wastes no time to take it in his mouth.

"Oh..." The moan just slipped out of your mouth and you hurriedly press your lips together to shut yourself up, aware that you're in a hotel corridor and the hotel guests might hear it, oh and also, someone may walk in on you making out in the hotel corridor.

He leaves your breast wet with his saliva when he lets go and goes straight to kiss you again, putting his weight against you and hoisting your leg around him.

It's getting hard to stay quiet as he starts to dry hump you, you can feel the friction of his clothed erection on you, big and bulging, highly arousing.

Hearing footsteps coming, he hurriedly fixes your dress and takes your hand, this time, leading you right to his hotel room. He swiftly unlocks the door with his keycard and pushes the door inward.

"Come in," he softly mutters, keeping the door open to let you in.

Once you're both inside, the obscenity continues. Nothing is stopping you from coming at each other and ripping each other's clothes. Your dress is the first to go then his shirts, they're lying on the carpeted floor now.

As you lips continuously latch with his, Chan swiftly unbuckles his belt and zips open his fly, he pulls his erection out of its confine.

Without breaking the kiss, he takes your hand and puts it around his hardening member. You gasp at how hot it feels in your hand, how hard it is that you can feel the veins coiling around his length.

He pulls away and looks down to see your hand holding his cock, "Is it as big as you remember?"

You suck air through your teeth and then say, "I'm not sure."

You start to slowly pump his length in your hand and look up at him, "but there's a way I can know for sure."

His eyebrow raised in question, "You do?"

"Uh-huh," you answer, leaning in to kiss him.

From his lips, you begin a trail of kisses to his neck and his chest next, then down to his sculpted abs until your knees hit the carpeted floor.

Something about kneeling in front of him and he's looking down on you with a mix of excitement and anticipation in his eyes arousing you in a whole new way.

In return, you look back at him, innocently blinking your eyes at him all the while your hand keeps stroking his cock in front of you.

"Can I?" You ask him with your thumb softly rubbing the tip of his cock.

He puts his hands in your hair, brushing your hair and gathering them in the back of your head, making a makeshift ponytail with his hand, "Yes."

Without looking away from him, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, then slowly, you take him in your mouth. You take him little by little and give yourself time to adjust yourself to his size which you think is somewhat bigger than you remember.

Wanting to impress him, you push yourself to take more of him but you're too haste and his cock hits the back of your throat so fast, triggering your gag reflex. You immediately pull away before you embarrass yourself more and look away as you let out a cough.

"Still too big for me," You say with a shy chuckle.

Chan places his hand on your cheek and tenderly caresses it, "Too big for you, mmh?"

You nod with your puppy eyes at him.

"But you're taking it so well," he coos, now wiping your chin with his thumb.

You wrap your hand around his cock again and slowly pump it, "Yeah?"

"Yes," he mutters with a soft smile.

The truth is you're not a big fan of giving blow jobs and you're not very confident in your skill, but he remains sweet and patient with you and you believe it's because he knows.

Chan makes you feel safe and comfortable enough to make you want to do it again.

"Let me just..." you don't finish your sentence but do it all over again.

You remind yourself to take it slow, regulate your breathing, and keep calm, it's even better if you can try to enjoy doing it.

To compensate for the rest that you can't take in your mouth, you use your hand and alternate between sucking and licking.

"See? You're taking me so well," he softly mutters, delicately tucking your hair behind your ear.

It doesn't take long for you to find your rhythm and slowly enjoying yourself giving him head, you're even humming in pleasure with your mouth full of him.

Seeing his reactions and hearing the lewd noises coming out of your mouth, encourages you to keep going despite your jaws getting tired and your knees are hurting from kneeling too long.

In between his low moans, he manages to mutter sweet nothings to you.

"Oh, that pretty mouth!"

"You're just too good."

"Oh... Too good at this!"

After a few minutes though, you sense that you needed a break so you slowly pull out and replace your mouth with your hand.

"You like that?"

"Very much," he answers without a beat.

He offers his hand to help you get up from the floor and pulls you close, hoisting your body against him knowing that you're probably tired from kneeling too long.

"You're getting too good, it's dangerous," he whispers to you with both hands cupping your ass cheeks.

You giggle and let him have your lips in him again, you're opening your mouth for him so he can kiss you deeper while he hoists you higher until your feet are lifted off the floor.

Chan carries you to the bed and gently lays you down on the bed, he removes his jeans first before joining you, lying next to you on the bed.

He brushes your hair away from your face and presses a kiss on your lips, "So, is it as big as you remember?"

You tangle your hand in his soft curls, "Jury's still out," you answer with a sly smile.

Chan glares at you as a grin slowly blossoms on his face, he offers his arm as your pillow and then pulls you closer to him, that way, he can comfortably plant his lips on yours again.

As he keeps you busy with his kisses, his hand is making its way down south and not stopping until it lands on your clothed cunt. He smirks against your lips the second he slips his fingers under, meeting your wetness.

"That wet for me, mmh?" He murmurs.

You coyly shrug and shoot him a smirk just to provoke him.

"Well, I'm honored," he says with his fingers tracing your folds and running it up and down your slit.

When he starts playing with your clit, you know you no long can keep your cool anymore. The cold that comes from the metal of his chain bracelet adds a different sensation to the hot and wetness of your cunt.

"Goodness..." you breathlessly gasp as he inserts his finger into you.

"I know you can take one more," he mutters with his mouth pressed to your ear, then proceeds to add another digit.

His two long fingers are inside you now, pumping them in and out of you, and curls them to find that spot that makes you—

"Chris! Oh, fuck!" You curse and grip his shoulder hard enough your nails dug into the skin.

He's enjoying it from the way his head hovers above you and peacefully observing your face, wanting to see all of your reactions to his delightful assault.

He has his mouth sucking on your breast now and the other is being fondled by his other hand, the other hand is busy making a mess out of you.

You're squirming on the bed with your waist upheld in the air and shamelessly arching your back at him, seeking more of him inside you.

Chan knows when to stop, he teases you enough to prepare you for what comes next. He slows down his hand motions and slowly pulls them out. He doesn't let go yet but keeps his hand inside your underwear, playing with your clit.

A moment later, he draws his hand out of your underwear and rubs his fingers coated with your arousal on his lips, "Taste yourself on me," he says.

Seeing his lips wet with your essence is rather arousing and you don't hesitate at all to kiss him, tasting yourself on him. The kiss feels exceptionally kinky and you thought you couldn't be more aroused than this.

Without letting go of the kiss, he hovers above you and props his elbows against the mattress, "Are you still on the pills?"

You swallow air before answering, "Yeah."

He places a sweet peck on your lips then looks at you, "Is it okay if we do it without protection?"

Maybe deep down you know you can trust him and it wouldn't be the first time you're doing it with him without a layer of protection so you find it easy to agree to it and nod.

"Okay," you say, also providing him a verbal consent.

He smiles at you and lowers his mouth on you again, he continues the kisses down your front. His hands tugging at the elastic band of your underwear and pulling it down as he continues the kisses down to your legs.

The bed quakes as Chan gets off the bed and he's just standing there, looking at you and your naked body for his eyes to lust on. You catch him inhaling and exhaling air like he's overwhelmed by what he's seeing.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters with a delightful sigh.

It would be the only normal response to get flustered under his lustful eyes, you look away from him and say, "Just get in here, Chris!"

He surprises you by jumping onto the bed, making the bed quakes once more and he immediately puts his lips on yours again.

"Turn over for me," he softly whispers to you ear.

Without saying a word, you obey him, turning over on the bed and getting on your fours, kneeling with your hands propped against the mattress in front of you.

Chan positions himself behind you and then with so much care, he puts all of your hair away onto one shoulder so he can place kisses on your back. His hands freely roam around your body.

In your opinion, Chan has the most attractive pair of hands, it's warm and firm with veins snaking on the back of his hand, and of course, long fingers that know how to find your most sensitive spot. Now, they're on you, going all over you and feeling you all over.

"I almost forgot how soft you are," he murmurs.

He then brings his hands to your chest to play with your mounds, he hums in pleasure as he sees your breasts mold perfectly in his hands.

"Like they were made just for me," he sighs.

It's like his attractiveness and his big cock aren't enough, Chan has to have a smart mouth too, a mouth that knows what to say and how to say it.

Then again, you're just a girl and you're prone to sugary sweet words like that. You look over your shoulder and smile at him, not expecting that he's going to capture your lips in a kiss.

He slides one hand down to your throbbing cunt again, making sure it's wet enough for him to penetrate. He gently pushes you to the front so he can aim his cock at your entrance and then slowly, he guides you to take him in.

"Oh... ah..." you moan, crumpling the sheet underneath you.

And you almost forget how big he is until he's inside you and you get so high that you blank out, you're there on all fours and merely just a vessel.

Not giving you another minute to adjust, Chan moves back and pulls his cock out only to push it deeper inside you. He then wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly while you're flailing against him like a rag doll.

"You feel so good," he whispers, his breath is hot and heavy in your ear, "So fucking tight around me."

He brings his hand down to rub your clit, adding gentle pressure as he's circling on it.

"I'm going to move, okay?" He says to you with a slobbering kiss on your shoulder.

Unable to form a coherent answer, you repeatedly nod in answer.

The sploshing sound of his fingers incessantly rubbing your clit intensify along with the pace of his thrusting. Chan either has his lips on your lips or plants them on your shoulder, either way, he does it to muffle his groans.

This is what happens when his hand and his cock joint forces, you find yourself on the brink of orgasm when all you've been doing is filling the room with your high-pitched moans.

"Oh, I'm cumming," you whine, holding onto the sheet as waves of pleasure surging all over you.

Chan slows down but does not stop thrusting into you, he kisses your neck and shoulder as you relish your orgasm. He keeps you close with his slung across your chest.

"Chris?" You breathlessly call his name.

"Yes, baby?" He answers your call and you guess the pet name unintentionally slipped out of his mouth.

Not going to lie, it gets you fluttering to hear him call you baby. You curve your arm around his neck and bring his head close to kiss him.

After a while, you start to doubt that the fluttering feeling came from Chan calling you with a pet name. You think it's because you're getting your second orgasm.

"What should I do, Chris?" You whine against his mouth

He breaks the kiss and looks at you with a concerned look, "Huh?" Chan confusingly asks.

"I'm about to cum again," you shamelessly admit.

Chan lets out a low chuckle and presses a kiss on your lips, "Then let's cum together, yeah?" he simply resolves.

He draws you close to him until your back hits his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you to hold you steady as he adds more speed to his thrust.

"Chris, oh..." you moan while holding onto his forearm.

His hands slithering around, one hand squeezing on your breast and the other wrapped around your neck. His mouth nests in the crook of your neck, grunting in pleasure and at times, sucking on your skin to muffle his noises.

"Oh, you keep clenching, baby," he mutters, followed by a broken moan.

That is probably because his cock is deep inside you, it's engorging and pulsating, filling you whole and continuously rubbing against your velvety walls, making the knot in your stomach tighten with each passing second.

Getting weak on the knees, you collapse onto the bed and Chan hurriedly holds you by the waist as he maintains the pace.

"I'm close, I'm close," you tell him repeatedly with one side of your face pressed against the bed.

Chan groans as he pushes his cock as shallowly as possible inside you, "Almost there," he says through his gritted teeth.

The previous orgasm makes you more sensitive than before and you can't hold yourself back anymore so you slowly let go and let the pleasure take over you once more.

Meanwhile, Chan hovers behind you and takes your hands, he holds them by the wrists then pin them against the bed as he restlessly thrusts into you to chase his high.

"Want me to cum inside you?" He asks, still thoughtful as you remember

"Uh-huh, yeah," you manage to answer even with your brain close to short-circuit.

Getting the permission is all he needed to get to his release. Then moment he finally come undone, he lets out a hoarse yet the most beautiful moan you ever heard, then lets himself lay on top of you.

A moment passes in contented silence and Chan presses a long kiss on the nape of your neck, then softly asks, "Are you okay?"

Not getting an answer, he endearingly brushes your hair away from your face to check it himself, "Did I go too rough on you?" He asks again with a slight concern.

You allow yourself to take a few more seconds to gain your composure and instead of answering, you foolishly grin at him and say, "That was so fucking good."

In response, Chan brightly smiles then pecks your lips, "No, but seriously, are you okay?"

You nod at him, "I'm okay."

After hearing your confirmation, he lets out a sigh of relief and then kisses you again, longer than the previous one.

"Sweet break?"

You don't expect him to say that after a long time, you smile and nod, "Sweet break."

Sweet break is something you used to say to each other when you need to take a break from something by eating something sweet. Like now, for instance, you and him taking a break from sex to order something sweet from the room service.

"Bad news is the kitchen is closed" Chan announces the second you come out of the bathroom.

It would be bothersome to put on your dress so you put on Chan's shirt instead, buttoning it as you join him on the sofa, "And the good news?"

He opens the food cover to show you what he got from the room service, "They're still serving desserts," he says with a grin.

The two of you huddle together around the plates of desserts and eating them on the sofa, filling the room with the sounds of your chewing and the dessert spoon scraping the plate.

It's fascinating to watch Chan casually eat his chocolate cake like he didn't just fuck the brains out of you a while ago. You let out a low chuckle and get back to your crepes.

"What's so funny?" He asks, catching you quietly chuckling to yourself.

"Nothing," you answer with a shrug.

He glares at you and decides to invade your plate with his fork, stabbing at the sliced banana and then shoving it into his mouth.

"Hey, eat your own dessert," you scold him but let him collect more bananas from your plate.

"But you don't like bananas," he says in between his chews.

"I don't like bananas but that doesn't mean I can't eat them," you say, but proceed to put the bananas to the side of the plate.

"I'm eating it for you so you only eat what you like," he says with a proud grin.

It's endearing that he still remembers little things like this. The sweet break, your dislike toward a certain and even how many of his fingers you like to have inside you. You can't help but wonder if he remembers other things too. His feelings for you, perhaps?

"Want to order another one?"

The two of you shared and finished the last plate together, even though you feel like you can have another plate, you refuse the offer.

He puts the plates away to the side of the room and returns to the sofa, lifting your legs before he sits next to you and then puts your legs on his lap.

"What's that café with the salted caramel cookies?" He suddenly asks.

"The one with butternut latte?" You ask back to check.

He gently puts his hand on your shoulder and plays with your hair, "Is it still open?"

Damn. He even still remembers that one café you regularly visited when the two of you were still dating.

"Yes," you answer with a smile.

"Man. Those are the best cookies!" he sighs with his fingertips lightly rubbing your thigh.

"I mean, we can go there tomorrow if you want," you casually say or you hope it sounds casual, it's a friendly offer.

He stops playing with your hand and cups your jaw, "I would love to," he says.

From the way his smile slowly dims, you sense a 'but' coming. Oh no, you sense a regret coming. You shouldn't have offered it in the first place.

"But I have to leave tomorrow," he says.

"Oh?" You try to remain unbothered and keep your facial expression in check, "Tomorrow, huh?"

"Yeah. I have to take care of a few things back home," he explains.

By back home, he means Australia and he'll fly out tomorrow, and probably for good. You hate that you get sad like it would be the first he's done it to you.

He holds you by the chin and slowly brings your head close to place a chaste kiss on your lips, it's so tender that you feel a tug at your chest.

"Thank you for coming to see me," he sincerely says with his eyes wide and shining for you.

This is where you start losing the objective of why you're here, you came here to solely get fucked, not expecting anything but his cock inside you.

Time to put some sense into your head and laugh it off, "Oh, my God, Chris!" You gasp out loud.

His forehead wrinkles in question, "What?"

"Yes, we can fuck again, no need to try so hard," you say with a sassy eye roll.

Learning that he's being pranked, he squints his eyes at you with his tongue pokes his cheek. While clutching his chest, he says, "Gosh, I thought—"

Before he can finish his sentence, you shut him up with a kiss because you don't want to keep talking about your feelings or get reminded of how things were when you were still together. You kiss him because you want to forget.

"You thought what?" You ask as you sit on his lap.

He licks his lips and shakes his head, "Nothing."

He's more than glad to have you sitting on his lap as it allows him to hold you close. His hands trail the sides of your body until they eventually land on your ass and then eagerly fondle them in his hands. Catching you off guard, he lands a slap on your ass cheek.

"Chris!" You shriek, abruptly stop kissing him, "That stings!"

"Can't help it," he innocently says while laughing and then pulls you close to kiss you again before you scold him more.

As a safety measure, you take his hands from your ass and fold them together on his chest but he takes it to his advantage, he finds another playground for his lewd hands.

Doesn't want to waste time unbuttoning it, he slips his hand under your shirt to fondle your breast, circling his fingers around your nipple before pinching at it.

He then lifts your shirt, exposing your breasts to the cool night air, and wastes no time to bury his head in between your mounds. He then pulls the shirt down and hides himself in it, acting like a toddler by purposely placing ticklish kisses on you to make you laugh

"Stop playing," you scold him with your hand tangled in his curls, "Let's go to bed, mmh?"

Chan pops his head out through the opening of the shirt and looks at you, "Kiss me first," he demands.

How can you say no when he looks at you with fondness in his eyes and a smile on his face? You fulfill his wish and place a long, lingering kiss on his lips.

"Can we go now?" You say the second you pull away from the kiss.

"Okay," he obliges.

He gets out of your shirt first and you get off his lap next, then starts walking toward the bedroom when Chan suddenly comes from behind you and hoists you up, looking unbothered carrying you on his shoulder.

"To the bed!" He announces, then slaps the back of your thigh.

"Chris!" You scold again but you can't do anything about it as you hang upside-down on his back.

The bed is already a mess and it seems like it's going to get even messier with the way Chan constantly has you pinned under him. He kisses your lips, softly yet hungrily like devouring an ice cream.

Aware that he has taken his turn, Chan doesn't complain when you flip him over and take it over from him. You're straddling him, rubbing his cock between your slit while he's unbuttoning your shirt open.

You find yourself wet for him again in no time and his cock is as hard as you need it to be, maybe this is why sex with him feels exceptional, the two of you are always horny for each other.

You let out a low, long moan the whole time you lower yourself on him and a seductive chuckle slips out of your mouth the second he's fully buried inside you.

When you look down at him, you find him staring at you with his mouth agape. You slyly smile and place both of your hands on his glorious pecs, "Have you always been this big?"

Chan licks his lips and rests his hands on your thighs, "And have you always been this tight?" He asks back instead of answering.

Being on top gives you the freedom to set a pace you prefer and switch positions as you like, more importantly, you can fully enjoy every bit of it. But it's working because Chan is such a great partner, he lets you have full control and lets you take your time.

If not using his hands to touch you all over, he has his hands folded under his head and quietly enjoying watching you fucking him.

"If you keep clenching around me like that, I might cum too fast," he tells you.

"I'm okay with that," you calmly respond.

To tease him more, you purposely keep clenching around him and rolling your hips in circular motions. Somehow you stop focusing on getting your high and start thinking about how to please him more.

"Oh," he loudly groans and his hand grips at your waist, "You're bad!"

You giggle in response while continuing to roll your hips back and forth in painstakingly slow motion.

"Oh, you're really, really bad," he says with ragged breath.

The sex may not be as hard or as intense as the previous one but it's just as good, even better. Maybe it's the unwavering eye contact, maybe it's the way he hisses every time you tease him, or the way he trusts you to make him feel good.

Whatever it is, you feel like sharing an intimate moment with him and you can't lie, it feels special.

"Are you close?" You ask because you're very close to your climax.

"I've been waiting for you to ask me that," he hastily answers, still able to joke in a heating moment like this.

You take him along with you to the edge and not stopping until the two of you come to your release, you keep moving at a sloppy pace to ride out the high.

Chan pulls you close, forcing you to lower yourself onto his body and accidentally sending his cock to slip out. You don't mind it at first but you can feel his hot cum dripping out of you and onto his abdomen.

You break the kiss and mutter in panic, "It's dripping."

"I'll put it back in," he simply responds, reaching down for his cock and slowly pushes it back into you.

Now that it's resolved, he puts his arms around you again and pulls you even closer until your bodies mold into one another, then kisses you more.

Without looking and breaking the kiss, he pulls the duvet and covers both of your bodies with it, ready to end the night with your bodies still connected.

"Have I told you this?" He suddenly asks.

"What?"

He looks at you with his brown eyes that looks like a nice cup of cocoa, comforting and warm.

"I miss you," he ever softly says.

There he goes again, making you debate whether you came here for the sex or to try to rekindle old sparks with him. But in all honesty, it feels good to know that the yearning goes both ways.

For once, you let your heart answer it for you.

"I miss you too, Chris," you mutter back with a smile.

And now you start debating if seeing him tonight is indeed a bad idea.

There's a wet, squelching sound when you first come to your senses the next morning, you feel like sleeping for another hour or two but you also feel the urge to check what that noise is all about.

You force open your eyes and find out right away the source of that wet, squelching sound, it's coming from Chan and he has his mouth latched to your breast.

"Morning, Chris," you croak as you brush your hair away from your face.

He lets go of your breast with a loud pop and looks at you, "Did I wake you?"

"Not really," you answer, putting your hand in his fluffy bedhead.

"I'm sorry," he says but not looking like it.

"Are you? Sorry?" You jokingly say and lay back on your pillow.

He slyly grins and shifts his focus back to playing with your mounds. He holds your breast up and uses his slick tongue to tease your nipple, alternating between licking and sucking.

It's normal to feel horny in the morning and, you find yourself already wet under there, you guess Chan has been helping himself while you were still sleeping.

Chan's head hangs above your chest and you can see how much he's enjoying your breasts, playing with them like a toddler, he even makes noises as he fills his mouth with your ample flesh.

"Aren't you leaving today? Shouldn't we get up and shower?" You mutter, softly scratching his scalp as you talk.

He sucks at your breast so hard and pulls it before letting it go, grinning as he is satisfied with what he just did.

"My flight is in the afternoon," he says.

"And I'd better go so you can pack—"

"But I already ordered breakfast," he whines like a fussy child.

"Well, we can shower first."

"They'll send breakfast at 8," he shares with a wild grin.

You turn your head to check the time on the clock hanging on the wall, "But it's hardly 7."

"Exactly!" He exclaims.

"Exactly what?" You ask in genuine confusion.

He buries his head in your neck and whispers, "We have an hour before breakfast."

Despite catching on to his intention, you decide to act dumb, "And?"

"And..." he inhales your scent before hovering above you, "I'll have my breakfast first."

He winks at you then goes under the duvet, and settles himself between your legs to have his so-called breakfast and it only makes sense that it progresses to intercourse.

Morning sex offers different things, it's the quiet, the peace, the slivers of morning sun shining through the cracks of the curtains, doing it with a refreshed mind and body, it's also the best way to start the day.

It's even better when you get to be a pillow princess, you just lay back and let Chan do all the handwork. He has your legs locked around his waist as he thrusts into you at a slow yet steady pace and in every thrust, he makes you feel every inch of his length rubbing against your walls.

"This is just great," he says with his face pressed to the side of your head.

"Mmh, what?" You respond as best as you can.

"I don't have to do cardio today," he says with a low chuckle.

This is your favorite kind of sex, do it by not taking it too seriously. Because in your opinion, other than it should be comfortable for the individuals involved, sex should be fun.

You kiss his open mouth and drag your lips down to his neck, then plant your mouth on his skin, sucking at it hard enough to form a hickey on it.

"What's that about?" He's rather dumbfounded instead of annoyed.

"Just trying to make it fair," you coyly say as you point to the blossoming mark he made on your breast.

"Yeah, okay," he says in defeat.

As much as you don't want the sex to end, it eventually ends but in a rather explosive, euphoric way. You feel like you've just been given another chance at life after that last orgasm.

"Who needs coffee, huh?" You sigh as you blankly stare at the ceiling.

It's a rhetorical question but Chan decides to respond to it anyway, "Not me, apparently."

Then you remember that he indeed doesn't drink nor need coffee to function, "Not you, apparently," you correct your earlier remark.

Chan carefully lowers himself on top of you and hastily kisses you, both of your teeth almost colliding.

"Thought I was still dreaming when I woke up next to you," he says, coming with another sentimental remark that evokes something deep within you.

You decide to push it further down and keep it there by saying, "Ugh. It's too early for that," you groan.

Chan weakly chuckles with his head nestled in your neck and just like the universe knows you need the distraction, the knocking comes on the door and it must be the breakfast.

You gently pat his head and say, "Now, go get my coffee!"

The morning continues with a quiet breakfast, it's obvious the reason why, the two of you burnt so many calories last night and need a reload.

Then there's the shower and you strongly refuse to share with him or else, it'll take much time. But Chan has an even stronger will and joins you anyway.

This is another reason why sex with him feels exceptional, the two of you are the same insatiable creatures.

The two of you dressed in silence and at times, catch him watching you, instead of feeling shy, you give him a proper show, bending down and wriggling your ass as you put your underwear on.

Chan enjoys every bit of it, he grins and bites his lips, tempted to come up at you, and goes at it again, but sadly, time is running out.

It's here, this is where it's going to end and you never know when you'll see him again, and that's even if you're still able to. You can only hope that he doesn't see how much you want him to stay.

"This is it then," you say, standing right in front of him in the foyer.

He takes your hand, loosely lacing his fingers with yours, "Can I still text you?"

"Sure," you answer.

"How about phone calls?"

"Booty calls only," you jokingly say.

He smiles and takes a step closer to you, you can almost see every moment the two of you shared last night flashes in his eyes, and it's achingly beautiful.

"Can I kiss you before you leave?"

You plan to make the goodbye as brief and as painless as possible but you don't want to risk losing the opportunity to make it a not-so-sad ending. But if you have to be honest, you simply want to kiss him.

"Okay," you agree with a nod.

You put your arms around his shoulders and let your body molds into him as he holds you close, you tilt your head up and close your eyes.

The moment your lips make contact, your heart bursts open and there's no way of stopping your feelings flow out of it so you let them be. You let him feel your pain, your yearning, and ultimately, your feelings for him that you try so hard to conceal, and then slowly, you pull away from the kiss before they fight their way out of your heart.

It's possible that Chan feels it too, that the kiss feels intimate, the kiss feels emotional, and a little close to the heart. He pulls you into a hug that lasts for a long time as if he tries to convey some unspoken messages too.

"No need to send me off," you tell him, not wanting to make it sadder than it already is.

Chan walks you to the door with his hand on the small of your back and then keeps it open for the final goodbye. You stand facing him and say, "Goodb—"

He puts his finger on your lips to stop you from finishing your sentence, "I'll see you when I see you."

That sounds like he indirectly promises you that one day, he'll come and see you again, and surprisingly, it only makes you uneasy.

You put on a smile and try another way to say goodbye, "Have a safe flight, Chris."

As you get into the back of the taxi, you get these familiar feelings and unfortunately, they're not the good kind. You feel like you went through the same thing before, you feel angry, you feel sad, and lost, and you feel this tightness in your chest that makes it hard to breathe. Then it hits you that it feels exactly like that day he broke up with you, this is the feeling of heartbreak.

In the end, you got your physical needs at the price of having to face your feelings and it all comes down to one conclusion: seeing him was a bad idea.

ONE MONTH LATER

It's like you're trapped in an endless loop, it's the weekend and you're lying on your bed, horny and bored.

Your phone is blaring with notifications and messages, you check and skim through them, they're from your friends or some other miscellaneous, you couldn't care less.

In other words, they're not the notifications you've been anticipating.

Chan has been diligently contacting you, sometimes he texted and when he's not, he calls you late at night because apparently, he's always busy during the day. The point is he always contact you by any means of communication.

However, for these past few days, it's been total radio silence. He's not even looking at the pictures you specifically posted to thirst-trap him. If only he knows how much time and energy you've spent just to get a single flattering shot of yourself. Ugh!

As you're about to spiral down, your phone dings and you consider ignoring it to spare you from getting disappointed all over again.

After a moment though, you cave in. You unlock your phone and get greeted by the very notification you've been dying to get.

What you doin'?

Busy running around in my head? He wrote a corny message and added a crying laughing emoji.

A week of no contact and that's the first thing he said? You scoff in disbelief and just stare at the messages, you've learned to make him wait for your reply and use the time to think of witty, flirty answers to his messages.

Am I running with clothes on or naked? You playfully ask back, giggling as you type it.

I think you know the answer. He wrote back with a winking emoji.

Let's hope I don't catch a cold then. You jokingly write in response.

You should stop cause it does things to me.

One minute he's corny, one minute he's cute, and the rest of the time? Hot, confident, and flirty, and you eat those shit up.

Things like what? You reply.

Like this. He wrote along with a picture.

Intrigued, you hurriedly click open the attachment and it's a picture he took of him in the mirror, wearing nothing but his white underwear. Your eyes feast on his glorious Greek God body, his sculpted abs and broad shoulders, and eventually your eyes flick down to the bulge inside his underwear.

In all honestly, it's the first thing that catches your eye because it's so fucking big and the underwear does nothing but enhance the shape and the size.

All of a sudden, you feel thirsty, literally and figuratively, and Chan knows how to make you keep swallowing air by sending you another picture.

The picture is of the same setting but in a rather different position, he's sitting on a chair, slightly slumped with his legs spread wide open and his hand holding his bulge.

Wish it was your hand.

Did he take a class on how to take good thirst traps and nudes? Because damn! Two pictures are enough to make you feel like an animal in heat.

Can I have it in my mouth instead?

Want to have you in my mouth.

Being straightforward mixed with the drooling emoji always works but what really does it is the one magic word: Please?

A minute later, there's no reply from him but your phone rings, he's calling you and you scramble to sit on the bed. You take a deep breath first before hitting the accept call button.

"Hello?"

"Gosh, I want you so much," He suddenly says, no greetings or small talk first. He goes straight to what he wants and you kind of dig that.

You giggle into the phone and playfully ask, "How much?"

"So fucking much," he emphasizes every word and lets out a heavy sigh after.

"Come and maybe I'll give it to you," you seductively say while playing with the lint on your denim shorts, "Maybe."

He chuckles and then jokingly says, "I'm on my way."

"Don't make me wait long," you play along with him but secretly wish that it's true.

You hear rustles from his end of the phone call and think he's probably calling you while lying on his bed but then, you hear the sound of bustling streets and car horns and—

"You're not really on the way, right?" You nervously ask, twisting the loose thread around your index finger.

"I told you, I'm coming," he coyly says.

Your heart skips a beat but he could be anywhere, he could be driving to work or you know, in a taxi in... Australia. Right?

"Chris..." you meekly call him.

"Yes?"

"Are you in the city?" You ask to confirm his location.

"Suprise!" He exclaims followed by a series of giggles.

Yes, you secretly wish that he was coming, but not now but not now and maybe, not ever because the last time you saw each other, things didn't end well for you.

So seeing him tonight is a bad idea, right?

"Why didn't you—" You don't know how to word it without sounding like you're not grateful for his surprise.

"I want to see you," he says, cutting through your silence, "Do you want to see me too?"

What should you do? You don't want him to come but at the same time, you want him to come. Oh, God, this is so confusing!

You want to lie so badly but your heart won't let you, "I want to see you," you openly admit.

"I'm coming so wait for me, yeah?" He softly mutters.

"Okay," you weakly reply.

"I'll see you in a bit," he says with a smile that you can hear through the phone.

"See you."

The second you hang up the call, you start pacing back and forth in your room. He'll be here anytime soon and it'll be just like that night all over again.

You almost jump when the knock comes on the door and you slowly walk to the door, just standing there with your hand on the knob, debating if you should ignore him and pretend you're not home.

The knocks come again and reflexively, you turn the knob and pull the door open.

There he is in a white shirt and blue jeans, the simplest way of dressing yet somehow, it looks incredibly stunning on him.

"Hi," he says with a sweet grin on his face.

His hair is slightly tousled, he smells incredible and those dimples have the power to make you soften around him almost immediately, they're your kryptonite.

"Hi," you say back, lingering by the doorway.

"Brought you wine," he says, showing the bottle of red wine in his hand.

You tilt your head to the side and fight the urge to jump at him and climb him like a tree.

"That's so nice of you," you say with a smile.

"Can I come in?" He asks, gesturing his head toward the inside of your apartment.

But it's a bad idea, right?

However, you find yourself nodding and you step aside, "You may come in."

Chan steps inside and you close the door behind you after. The second you turn around, he pushes you to the wall and crashes his lips against yours.

And you know what? Fuck it! It's fine.

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homunculus-argument · 2 days

Note

Hi! Regarding your post that starts like this “Sometimes whether or not something is abusive behaviour depends on context, but not infinitely nuanced and complicated context, just one simple question: does it go both ways?”

How do you fit accommodations or varying needs into this? Ex. An autistic person easily overwhelmed by sound so you can’t yell around them who themselves have bad control over their own voice volume.

This is not critique btw, I’d just like an elaboration.

It's not about the act itself as much as the effect it has. Let's say that you're autistic, loud noises cause you pain, but you also make loud noises. Living with neurotypical people who don't have either of those issues, it's not a matter of "if I am not allowed to make loud noises, then you are not allowed to make loud noises", but "I am not allowed to recreationally do things that cause you pain, and you aren't allowed to recreationally do things that cause me pain." It's about reciprocal respect of everyone's needs.

Let's take a non-autistic example: There's a household of three people, out of whom one works nights, and needs to sleep during the day. The other two are awake during the day, and have no hesitation to make as much noise as they want, while the one who works night shift tries to keep dead quiet at night when they sleep. As far as the two day-active people are concerned, the rules are the same for everyone: Nobody can make noise during the night, everyone can make noise during the day.

But to the night shift person, it's an unequal arrangement, as they have the obligation to keep quiet when they're awake, and nobody has the obligation to keep quiet when they're trying to sleep. So the rule is "I am allowed to disturb your sleep, but you aren't allowed to disturb my sleep." Unequal rules.

And if everyone in your household is bothered by loud noises, and makes loud noises involuntarily, I'd suggest trying to find some other living arrangement. That can't be tolerable.

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ysrjune · 1 day

Text

Black Beauty

heavily inspired by @erosmutt ‘catholic!preachers son!sam monroe’ j.ai bot ♡

summary ✦ losing his v-card haw haw how hilarious 🤓

“this. isn’t. right.” Sam whines in between kisses you give him. Because of his beliefs (and father), he's always been taught that having sex or even kissing a girl before marriage was looked down upon. well, kissing was nothing. but to his father? it was just as bad as premarital sex. if George ever found out his son was making out with a girl.. especially you out of all of them—he'd have a cow. he'd probably disown Sam. that's why the young man was so nervous. but even though he knew it was wrong and he should stop, he didn't. his hands were roaming all over your body as he gave into your passionate kiss.

“You’re not doing anything to stop it. must mean you want it, dont you, Sam?” you teasingly ask against his lips, making him wait for another kiss. his eyes were closed and his forehead was touching your own. he wanted this so bad. countless nights fantasizing about shoving his dick in any hole you let him.. damn his father for getting rid of all the toys Sam had secretly purchased before getting put into this school. if George never found out about Sams toys, he'd be able to use more than his hand. but then again, if his dad never found out, Sam would have no idea who you were. and he'd definitely wouldn't be up late at night imagining his hand around his cock was your nice, tight, warm pussy.

“admit it. the good boy act is just to please your daddy and the nuns, huh? maybe even for me.” you go on taunting him. “poor boy. must be so frustrating not being able to talk to other guys about how horny and pent up you are, hm? because you know those guys are all better behaved than you are. you know they dont touch themselves like you do. you know they dont moan into their hands to keep themselves quiet while fucking their pillow the way you do.” all of this made Sam blush with embarrassment. hes opened up to you about everything he does when hes too horny and cant take it anymore. just before you started making out with him and marking up his pale neck, he told you that he humps his pillow at night while moaning out your name. he wished it was you who made him cum every single night instead of his hand.

“I am a good boy.” he whimpered and lay his forehead against your shoulder. “I am. I'll listen to you. I'll—I'll even stop touching myself if you just let me fuck you. please, angel face.” he whispers a plea. “you don't know what its like to see you walking around looking so damn good in those uniform skirts. you make it look good unlike the other girls. you dont know what its like having to walk around while your dick is hard. especially around other people.” he complains, cupping your clothed breast. “I don't even have to be the one doing it.. please. wanna make you feel good. use me.”

so, hickeys and kisses turned into forcing Sam to jerk off in front of you and hump his pillow while making eye contact. pretty boy was gonna get what he wanted soon enough, but you had to humiliate him just a little bit, first. “I-I cant anymore!—” he replies after you asked him to cum one more time if he wanted you to fuck him. “already came four times, I can’t do it again.” he whimpers, speeding up his thrusts. “sure you can, baby. just think of how after this you'll be able to cum inside me. how I'll let you use my mouth..” your hand rests on his abdomen. that fantasy was the trick to make him cum. he let out the most pathetic sound hes made all night. his hips bucked and his jaw dropped the slighest as his load made a mess all over his pillow. you smiled at him and stroked the head of him slowly. “guess you are a good boy, huh, Sammy?” his response was a shaky moan. “fuck—‘ts too sensitive right now, mommy..” mommy? should have known.

“Oh, but I bet you dont care about that when you're alone though, uh? You don't care if you're too sensitive. cause you have fantasy after fantasy you wanna cum to.” you began stroking his whole cock at a medium pace. “thats diff–fuck.. d-different.. not same when its not my h-hand.” he pants, thrusting himself into your hand. “im–ug! fuckfuckfuck..” poor boy was losing his mind. the sticky wet noises didnt help out, either. it just turned him on even more. he couldn't even form a whole sentence anymore. “you gonna cum again? you wanna cum in my mouth?” you fake a sweet tone and started sucking on the tip for a few seconds before taking whatever you could in your mouth and stroking the rest. who would have thought Sam Monroe would have such a big dick.

“like that, please—dontstopdontstop.” he placed his large hand on your head and started bobbing it up and down on his cock. “auh, you're so good at this. mm—soso good. gonna make me cu—huh!” sixth time in a row. it was actually starting to really seem crazy how much this boy could actually cum in a matter of minutes. “one more and we're done, kay?” you inform him after spitting his load back on his dick. “but—” here it comes. hes gonna start whining about how many times hes already came. “you were whining about how you wanted me to fuck you, so thats what you're gonna get.” you slap his face, earning a small noise that let you know he liked it.

taking your bra and panties off, you teased your slick folds by grinding on his hardening cock. Sam watched the whole thing, grabbing onto your hips. he looked so invested. “cant anymore. need to be inside of you.” he whispered and slipped himself into your warm entrance, making the both of you moan. Sam leans against the headboard, savoring the wet feeling of your cunt. “need you so bad.” Sam's hands gripped her hips as he began to thrust, finding a slow rhythm. he couldn't believe he was finally experiencing this, feeling her body wrap around him, both of their soft moans filling the room. his thrusts grew more desperate, fueled by the fire burning within him. “milk my cock, pretty girl, please.” he moaned, throwing his head back against the headboard.

you began to take the lead and rolled your hips on him, causing the tip to keep hitting your g-spot. “I'm gonna cum.” you announced and his thimb made its way to your clit. “that feel good?” he moans and you nod. “h-how do you kn-” you start off but he cuts you off. “watch a lot of porn.. had to learn how to make a girl feel good just incase..” he admitted, pressing his hand against your tummy. “feel that?” he smirks but then closed his eyes with sweat beaming down his forehead and coating his chest. “taking this pussy so well, Sam. feel better than those old toys?” you ask. “mhm.. fuck.. never gonna need one again.” a few more thrusts and you were done. creaming his dick, leaving a ring of it at the base of his cock. and a few seconds later, he finished in you.

he cuddled you and took a nice shower for after care.. maybe gave him shower head, but other than that, sweet kisses and praises were shared. but the next day, he needed to attend morning mass per his fathers request. and ofcourse somehow the topic of the morning was saving yourself until marriage. and when he saw you enter late as he looked up at the crowd after reading a sentence—he blushed and looked back down nervously to finish his part of helping out at mass. when his turn was done, he sat back in the chairs behind his father and started praying, asking for forgiveness right then.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

taglist: @anakinstwinklebunny @anisscarletstarlet @sockiess @erosmutt @rottencandyblood @radiantvader @freezerbride95 @starsfortaylor @maevesversion @haydenlovers @catnipaddictt @anisangeldust 🎀

#sam monroe x you #sam x reader #sam life as a house #life as a house sam #sam smut #sam #sam monroe fanfiction #sam monroe smut #sam monroe x reader #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe #sam monroe drabble #hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen smut #hayden christenen #hayden christensen drabble

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chukys-mouthguard · 2 days

Note

I know youve probably been getting a ton of rempe request which I have to add to it too (I’m so sorry) but a good enemies to lovers with a bit of angst would be 😮‍💨

Party’s Over

Words: 3.49k

Featuring: matt rempe x female reader

Genre: angst, fluff; enemies to lovers

Summary: who the fuck invited matthew rempe to your birthday party?

“So, guess what Braden just told me.”

Your friend setting her phone down after reading a text from her boyfriend, an awkward smile on her face. “No, absolutely not, tell him no!”

Not needing her to even give the answer you were already fully aware of what Braden had said. But there was no way in hell you were okay with it.

“If those boys dare to bring Matthew Rempe to my apartment, they are going to get beers thrown in all of their faces!” She laughed as you pointed to the case of beers you were getting unboxed into an ice bucket for the guys to dig into once they arrived. The rest of the girls just silently munching on chips and queso as they all knew this saga between you and Rempe all too well. And as much as they would love for you to join the club and start dating a Ranger like the rest of them, they weren’t planning on that being Matt.

While you loved all of their boyfriends, the one Ranger you couldn’t stand was Matt Rempe. From the day you two met he had gone out of his way to be nothing but a dick to you. Constantly ragging on you, taking jokes too far, and now he was going to be in your apartment. No doubt any little action of his would piss you off to your maximum, simply because he was in your place.

“Look, it’s your birthday, I don’t think he will be an asshole to you today. Plus, they are already on their way here. What are they gonna do, throw him out of the car?” “Yes! That sounds like a great plan!” Rolling your eyes you finished setting up the appetizers and drinks before the guys arrived.

“Hello hello? We heard there’s a birthday going on?” Vinny Trochek called out before the boys filed into your apartment, each of them with a significant other soon joining them, the few single guys and girls introducing themselves as everyone was grabbing drinks and getting food.

You had greeted everyone but were also too preoccupied with being a host, in hopes that it would distract you from how angry you were with Matt being in your apartment.

“Y/n…it’s your party and you’re making drinks for people. What the fuck? Go drink, mingle.” Braden’s girlfriend quick to take the bottle of Tito’s from your hand and push you toward the kitchen island, your sudden presence stopping a conversation between Matt and Chris Kreider. “Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” You glared at Matt, your tone a bit harsh as he sipped his beer. “Actually yeah, Matt was just saying how good you look tonight.”

Shaking his head in protest, Matt quickly swallowed down his beer, “more like the opposite. I said no such thing, don’t flatter yourself.” He smirked at you while Chris just shook his head, hating the constant immature bickering between the two of you.

“How about, you take that beer bottle, and show it up your ass Rempe? I think that would be such a fun party trick.” Flashing a fake smile you quickly left the kitchen, heading to your bedroom to cool off.

Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you began to second guess your outfit.

knock knock

“Y/n, what’s up? Chris said you stormed off after Matt made some smartass comment. Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay? Like, should I be wearing something different?” Chris’s wife Francesca rolling her eyes as she took a seat on your bed. “Really? Rempe said shit about your outfit and now you want to change? Have you ever thought that maybe the two of you just need to fuck and get it over with or something? I really think this whole act you’ve got going on needs to stop.”

Ignoring her comments completely, you went right to your closet, pulling out a white short sleeved bodysuit and a new pair of jeans. Quickly pulling them on and then pairing them with some heeled black boots.

“Okay, thoughts?”

Francesca lightly chuckling at how self conscious you’d become the second Matt said anything negative about how you looked. “I mean, you look hot as fuck. But, I feel like you’re trying to look good for him now.”

“Don’t be silly, I’m simply just trying to look hot and make him eat his words. And if the boy starts drooling about my tits practically being on display, that’s his problem not mine. Now let’s go do a shot!”

After you reappeared from your bedroom, newly clothed, you couldn’t help but notice how Matt’s demeanor had changed. He kept his distance and didn’t say a word to you. Though he didn’t have to, his eyes on you almost constantly and you were happy to know he was eating his words.

Three rounds of shots later, everyone was piling into Uber’s to head out, of course everyone finding it funny to put you and Matt in the same car, as well as make you both sit in the back seat together. Keeping your back somewhat to him, you tried to not as much as bump him with an arm or a leg, though his hand had tapped you multiple times as his arm was draped across the back on the seat.

Once at your destination you quickly pulled out your lip gloss and turned on your front camera to aid in your application.

“You know, I never understood the point of lip gloss. Like, it’s just gonna come off on your drinks or when you kiss someone.”

Matt practically whispered in your ear as he peeked his face into the view of your camera, making you roll your eyes. “Yeah well,” turning to face him, you hadn’t noticed how close his face was to yours, causing you to swallow a breath, “guess you’re in luck, I definitely won't be kissing you tonight.”

The group headed inside the club, having a table reserved at the back as to hopefully not draw too much attention having a handful of the Rangers with you. Everyone getting comfortable and situated with drinks as you threw back a few shots to erase the backseat interaction with Matt from your mind. This was your birthday, you were not going to let that cocky asshole ruin it.

The night had so far consisted of Vinny Trocheck getting so drunk he attempted to dance shirtless in your section, Chris and Matt competing to see who could chug their beers the fastest, and you losing track of just how many drinks and shots you’d had. But one thing you knew for sure was that you were about to pee your pants.

“I’ll be right back, bathroom.”

Slowly making your way through the crowd by yourself, Matt’s eyes followed you, making sure you made it to your destination. “Dude, cut the shit. This tough guy act, being dick to her. It’s not working for you.” Matt scoffed, taking a sip of his beer, “Krieds, I have no clue what you’re talking about.” He tried denying it, but Chris could see exactly what Matt thought he was doing. And despite his efforts, majority of the guys could see right through him. “All I’m saying is, for someone who dislikes her so much, you sure do care a lot making sure she made it to the bathroom safely.”

“Look, there’s a difference between me not liking the girl but knowing how to be a decent human being. Should I want her to not make it safely? Gosh Krieds now you sound like the asshole.” Matt attempted to put an end to the conversation, turning away from Chris, though keeping an eye on the bathroom.

After what felt like a thirty minute wait, you were able to evade peeing your pants in public and were headed back to your party. Though not before a drunk guy could try and creep on you, immediately making you remember why you didn’t go out to clubs anymore.

“Hey beautiful, you here alone?”

“Nope, actually here with friends.” Flashing a soft smile you attempted to brush past him in the hall, but he moved with you. “Oh, so you’re the one celebrating a birthday. How about I get you a drink?” Again flashing a smile you shook your head, “no thank you, we are stocked on drinks. I’m good.” The drunken man catching up to you as you could barely maneuver your way through the crowd. His hand snaking around your waist as he pulled you into him. “How about more than just a drink then?”

Immediately pushing against his chest to get out of his grip, you questioned the man but he didn’t let go. However soon enough, another arm reaching around to pull you free, to which you were surprised. Ready to thank the individual who likely saw the event and stepped in, until you saw the face of Matt Rempe appear next to you.

“Pretty sure that’s not any way to treat a lady. You wanna tell me why you put your hands on her?” Rolling your eyes you didn’t bother to stick around for Matt to be the hero and ask for your praises. Matt noticed you run off, but made sure the drunken man wouldn’t cause any more trouble for the night. Heading back to the table and immediately downing a shot before asking your friends to dance.

It was now 2am and you were down for the count, not able to hold your head up and just wanting food and your bed. Your friends helping you to your uber as everyone was more than happy to head home for the night. None of them partying like this in awhile and already anticipating the hangovers that were on the horizon.

“Okay, so as much as I want to take y/n up to her bed, I’ve got to get Chris home before he’s knocked out and I can’t deal with him alone.”

Francesca doing her best to keep Chris awake next to her as you were in the back seat once again with Matt, though you were oblivious to that as you were asleep with your head on his shoulder. “I can take her.”

Francesca a bit shocked at Matt’s offer to help. “You sure you’re not just gonna take her up there and draw on her face or something to mess with her?”

“Oh come on, I’m not that much of an asshole.”

Matt laughed, shaking his head as he looked down at you sleeping.

“Y/n…Y/n, wake up. We are back at your apartment.” Your eyes slowly fluttered open as Matt was attempting to help you out of the Uber. “I can do it myself.” Pulling your arm away from him as you were adamant about getting yourself inside, though only stumbling up the sidewalk and practically breaking your ankle in the process. “Y/n, just let Matt help you please. I gotta get Chris home before he’s sleeping on the street tonight. Stop hating him long enough for him to get you into bed.”

“I will never let this man get me into his bed!”

Francesca shaking her head with a sigh, “that is not what I meant, Jesus Christ…Matt, please let me know if you need anything. But I gotta get this man home.”

Matt laughed as Francesca guided a drunken Chris to their car, knowing that he would never let him live down this moment of being carried by his wife because he couldn’t hold his alcohol.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.”

Matt put a hand to your lower back as he helped guide you inside, trying his best to keep his distance so as to not upset you any more than he already had. The ride in the elevator was silent as you just stared at the numbers slowly counting up until you had reached your floor. Doing your best to walk to the door without issue, though now you were in for it as you tried to fumble with your keys and unlock it.

“Can I-” “No, I got it.”

Quickly opening the door you tossed your bag on the counter, soon collapsing on your couch. Not caring that the walk to your bed would have been only sixty seconds more, you needed to be horizontal and not in these boots any longer. Trying your best to kick off the boots, but having no luck, Matt soon came over to help. Your need for the boots to be off stronger than your want to be Miss Independent.

“I guess I will get you some water, heat up some of the food from earlier…”

His voice trailed off as he walked to the kitchen, your eyes opening to watch him. Why was he being nice all of a sudden? You didn’t like it, after he had made it his mission to be an asshole, all of a sudden he starts trying to be nice? He was clearly trying to get something out of you, praises or thanks for stepping up and taking care of you. Most likely to rub it in your face later and laugh at you for thinking he was a changed man or something.

“I don’t need your help, you know. I can do all of that myself.”

Matt just ignored you, continuing with making you a plate of food before he brought it over to you on the couch. He smiled softly as he held out the plate, and as much as you were starving, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept anything from him. “Why are you doing this?”

“Doing what?”

He looked at you confused before setting the plate on the island in the kitchen. “Pretending like you care! Trying to be some hero and swoop in to save the day. You know what your problem is?”

“What’s my problem?” He leaned against the island, crossing his arms as he let you continue with airing your frustrations.

“You think that anyone is going to fall head over heels for you and just give you everything you want. You’re so full of yourself. And then, the second a girl doesn’t fold for you, you treat her like shit, like how you did with me. Do you know how annoying it is? Being friends with all those guys, and you’re the only one who hates me? Who talks shit about me, bashing me whenever he can? I fucking changed my outfit tonight because you made me feel like shit about myself! And for what? Because I didn’t drop my pants for you the first day we met or something? Get a fucking grip, and stop thinking so highly of yourself. I didn’t need your help at the bar, and I don’t need your help now if you’re only doing it to hold over my head later or try to use it against me. I don’t need you trying to embarrass me for ever thinking you were actually a nice guy and gave a shit. So if you’re only doing this to look good to everyone else, then please leave.”

You stomped off to your room to change, needing your jeans off and sweats on. Removing your bodysuit and replacing it with a hoodie, a deep sigh leaving your lips as you pulled the fabric over your head.

knock knock

“What!”

Glaring towards the door you saw Matt slowly appear from behind the frame. His demeanor a bit defeated as he tossed a small box onto your bed. “Here.…happy birthday. I’ll call an Uber then head out.”

Your angered facade fading as you looked from Matt to the small box on your bed. Only moving to open it once you’d heard him head back down the hall. As you untied the blue ribbon, you lifted the lid to reveal a beautiful necklace of your birthstone that you had been eyeing for months. Instantly your heart sank, regretting all the words you just spat at him. But, you weren’t actually feeling bad for Matt, or regretting something negative you said to him, you couldn’t. Because you were supposed to hate each other. Though this was an expensive ass gift for someone to buy if they hated you.

Setting the necklace down on your dresser, you darted out of your room and down the hall. Stopping in your tracks when you saw Matt still in your kitchen. “Sorry, I’m leaving, it's just raining and I figured I’d wait until my Uber got closer. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

He went back to his phone as you could tell he was embarrassed and upset. Clearly this not being how he planned for the night to go, and you shared in the embarrassment for all the things you’d just said.

“Matt….how did you?”

Playing with the hem of your hoodie you awkwardly closed the distance between the two of you, eventually resting on your forearms against your kitchen island.

“Francesca told me you’d been eyeing it for months. I asked what was something I could you for your birthday, I wanted it to be something nice, special. But, clearly I fucked that up because I’m such an asshole.”

He wasn’t even making eye contact, his voice low as he mumbled his responses, shrugging it off like it was nothing. But it was clearly something.

“I just, I don’t get it…why get me such a nice, thoughtful, expensive gift. If you hate me?”

Matt laughed, finally looking up from his phone. “You really don’t get it do you? I don’t hate you y/n, it’s actually quite the opposite. When Chris told you earlier I was talking about how good you looked, he wasn’t lying. I really did think you looked good. And I felt awful when you went and changed clothes. I mean, you still looked hot as hell, but I felt bad that you thought I really didn’t think you looked good.”

He locked his phone and set it on the island as he made his way over to you.

“I acted that way because I've never met a girl like you. For starters, you never seemed interested in me, and I didn’t know how to take that. You were hard to read, and I thought if I messed with you, I would learn your personality. But you only dished shit right back at me just as I gave it. So I thought you weren’t interested and truly did not like me. Not to mention, coming into this group of people, when everyone is close already. I was trying my best to fit in, but I’m awkward okay? I wanted you to like me, and I fucked that up, clearly!”

You laughed along with him as he ran a hand through his hair. “And, I thought tonight I would fix things. I’d be able to give you that gift, and apologize for all the shit I started. But then, you got so mad at me when I tried helping at the club. And then when we got back here, I know I brought it on myself with being such a dick. But, I figured, there was zero chance I even got to make this right.”

“Well…” You sighed as you walked closer to him, your brain still trying to make sense of all this. “How about we start over? Blank slate, and we can forget everything. Stop this pretending like we hate one another and just be ourselves?”

Holding out your hand, Matt smiled before accepting and shaking it. “I’m Matt.” “I’m y/n.”

The two of you chuckled to yourselves, soon moving to the couch after you’d reheated the food Matt got for you which was now cold.

“Oh, um, aren’t you gonna cancel your Uber?”

Matt looked at you with a sheepish grin, “I never called an Uber.”

Your jaw dropping to the floor as you punched his shoulder. “Oh, so somehow you just magically thought things were going to work out and we’d be sitting right here on this couch? You thought you could easily just win me over and get a second chance with me? Matthew Rempe I swear to-”

Before you could finish your threat, Matt had placed his lips on yours, cutting you off with a kiss. Though shocked by the action, you didn’t fight it. Relaxing into the kiss before he pulled away.

“I just figured, with that gift I got you we were a little past first introductions.”

“You know, you’re lucky your cute Matthew Rempe…”

“Oh, so you do think I’m cute? I knew it!” He shot you a cocky grin as he dipped a chip in some queso. “We still have plenty of beer bottles, don’t make me bash you on the head with one.”

“Sweetheart, I get punched in the face on almost a nightly basis, I think I could handle a little beer bottle.”

#matt rempe blurb #matt rempe fic #matt rempe imagine #matt rempe fluff #matt rempe x reader #matt rempe #matt rempe angst #nhl imagine #nhl fics #hockey imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #nhl blurb

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imaluckygirl · 1 day

Text

⭑ leak & delete

( enhypen reaction )

synopsis: what if your boyfriend — accidentally — press the post button and suddenly a photo of both of you together starts circulating on the internet/news? how he would react?

( 엔하이픈 ) - idol!maknaeline x fem.reader ( hyung ver. ) ; angst & fluff

──── bookshelf .

warnings: curse words, mentions of breaking up, enha members have a private instagram account ; long descriptions.

note: winter break is almost here in brazil, i can’t believe!!!!!! i can’t wait to have time and relax; update more often… unfortunately, one month flows really fast, but let’s make this one month vacation worth hehe ><

sunwoo would be so apologetic. he loves just taking pictures with you and of you — going from those cute pinterest couple pictures to those funny couple pictures. it’s sad that, unfortunately, when he accidentally clicked the post button and realised he did something wrong, his phone ran off of battery. the next thing he did was gasp and with his mouth open in shock. riki — who is sunwoo’s roommate — was scrolling through his phone when he heard a loud and exaggerated — the sound was almost cartoonish — gasp. “what?” riki asked, looking at sunwoo, annoyed but curious.

not hearing any answers coming out of his mouth, the youngest sighed, turning his body on the bed to look at sunwoo’s laid figure. “who’s pregnant?” “i messed up, riki.” riki dropped his head to the side while frowning, confused about what was going on. “what do you me-” “i-i posted a photo- just- can you-” “hey, calm down, talk to me man,” the black haired teased. “don’t spit random words.” “just- please, can i see my profile please?” “yeah?” riki cocked a brow, watching his roommate standing up from his bed after connecting his phone to his charger, proceeding to lay on riki’s bed by his side; unbothered by the bed owner’s presence, receiving a bothered side eye from the japanese member.

riki searched for his friend’s username and once he clicked on his profile, sunwoo snapped the phone from riki’s hand, not even spending a second looking for what he was so worried about; because he quickly found it: the photo was posted five minutes ago. riki, noticing the roommate’s unquietness, stood his body up — supporting his torso with his arms and hands — glancing at the phone’s screen behind sunwoo’s back; feeling a sense of curiously growing inside of him. “what happe-BRO YOU-”

riki was rubbing his hyung’s back, quietly trying to support him — pursing his lips mostly of the time because he didn’t know how to help. “it’s all good, hyung,” the youngest thought before pronouncing his words. “i mean, since you posted the photo at midnight, probably not many people must have seen it-” a knock on the door was heard, revealing jungwon’s sleepy figure. “kim sunwoo, what have you done for the director call me this time in the morning?” riki smirked, giggling before speaking: “oh, hyung, sunwoo hyung just posted a photo with y/n on instagra-” “SHUT UP!”

okay, so, let's talk about what happened: basically, sunwoo was called to go on a meeting with the director, and the director wasn't amazed that sunwoo couldn't delete the post under ten minutes because he got a little bit too carried away trying to explain the group's leader what had happened. the superior was pissed off, but couldn't blame sunwoo for loving someone; and also, how could he severely punish someone like him? he was always super dedicated, cheerful, committed and charismatic — literally the group's sunshine.

well, speaking like this, this situation is might be perceived as a piece of cake now. except that sunwoo hasn't spoke to you, and read articles saying that you weren't a public person and was supposedly dating the enhypen's kim. he was worried and constantly thinking about what was going through your head once you read those comments speaking about your appeal — even though dispatch and other blogs had blurred your face — and saying shit about you. unfortunately, as an idol and a public personality, he was already very familiar with those comments and feelings, making him less overwhelmed than when he actually became an idol; as an rookie in the industry.

sunwoo agreed with the director and took responsibility of his actions, even though it was all an complete mess and accident. sunwoo even shared his concern about you, a little bit hesitant and reluctant, but your safety was all he desires. later that day he saw a ton of texts from you, going from “good morning :)”, to “why there are people trying to follow me on instagram??????”. when sending those texts to him you couldn't even imagine what happened. you were at college all day and didn't opened any social medias for the entire week because of your busy schedule. however, you wished you hadn't, and you had have the patience to wait for your boyfriend's explanation. you were already kinda worked out when texting him; and then when he wasn't replying to you, you got even more pissed.

but, oh boy, hearing how his voice was weak and trembling, like he was trying to keep his tone firm just so he could murmur a ton of apologies to you; make your heart drop. you could never be mad at kim sunwoo for long. “it's okay baby.” you speak behind the call. “do you want me to come over?” you asked him with a gentle and soft voice. “n-no, you're g-good, i'm almost fr-free;” sniff. “so i can ask to be dropped there.”

cuddle this baby, it wasn't his fault after all. he was feeling his chest hurt with the feeling of guilt and dumbness; but you make sure to make him brush those feelings away and focus on how your finger play with his hair and untangle hair knots. and in the end of the day, belift kept silent but didn't denied any type of romantic relationship going on between you two, making the media even crazier and curious about these rumors and the lack of information they were receiving. receiving infos or not, sunwoo was by your side now, not as just a secret — well, maybe just a little secret now?

jungwon, in the first place, would probably one of the last members to create an instagram account. counting with that, the chances of something being accidentally leaked was close to 1% — but not zero percent.

okay, let me tell you, jungwon would be scrolling through his instagram gallery and he was just about to post a picture of both of you kissing on the instagram stories; for his close friends only. however, when jungwon finished writing a cute text/message for you after adding a romantic song to the story, he simply clicked on the post button — except that later he realised it wasn’t posted only on his close friends, but for his whole followers to see. “oh but… at least he realised it?” yeah he did; four hours later. because he posted and then left the app, opening the app hours later just to check new posts and to check his own posts; and that’s the moment he saw the photo he posted on his stories wasn’t in his only friends.

jungwon immediately deleted the story and called his manager, telling him what have happened. since he is the group’s leader he has to be responsible and mature, that’s why he was clear with his manager and company. when he hanged up the call with his upset manager, his room door was suddenly opened, revealing three of his members — riki, jaeyun, heeseung; sunwoo and jongseong appeared a minute later. heeseung was with his phone in hands while riki and jaeyun were standing behind the oldest, curious about their leader action; and just as confused. “hey, what did you just posted? belift just called us and wants to see you tomorrow at the meeting room.” heeseung spoke and jungwon froze. his heart started beating fast even though he knew this was eventually coming.

“why did they called you instead of me?” jungwon asked, already sitting on his bed, nervous. “they said you were in a call with another person, was it y/n?” heeseung asked without even hesitating. “no! wait- fu-, i don’t- i need to think.” jungwon stood up from his bed, walking past the five masculine curious figures to breath some fresh air. “hey bro-” sunghoon — who was sat on the living room’s couch, waved his hands but saw heeseung gesturing him that it wasn’t a good time, making him cough and cringe.

taking a deep breath he placed his arms on the balcony’s parapet, watching the snowy windy weather making his breath turn into a white fumace. jungwon closed his eyes and picked up his phone to call you. “hi baby!” your sweet voice resounded behind the device’s speaker. “oh… hey, um…” “what happened?” jungwon’s legs began to feel like jelly and his eyes started to water. “wonie?” he sighed before speaking: “um, i–i… i’m sorry baby, i posted a picture of us on my stories thinking i had posted on my close friends; and…” he was out of breath for explaining all of it at once. “are you okay wonie?” — were you okay?

resuming everything: jungwon went to the company’s building and went straight to the meeting room. the white painted walls made him feel uncomfortable, and the feeling of guiltiness was unhelpful. you or course forgave your boyfriend. you told him he had more important things to worry about, and not about apologising for something that was accidentally done. but he kept saying he was sorry anyway. however, in the end, jungwon decided to ask you if it was okay to reveal your relationship and you were pretty chill with it; since you trusted on your boyfriend’s choices and maturity. dispatch later released an article about both of you, revealing that belift had contacted with them and said both of you had good sentiments about each other. the CEO was pissed off and denied to accept his relationship with you, but the enhypen’s leader insisted and eventually his manager and superior couldn’t help to be proud of jungwon for being mature and understanding the company’s side, letting him have this freedom.

riki wouldn’t really bother since he knew that the secret relationship wasn’t going to be a forever thing; and would actually joke about it, but still feel very concern about you. on weverse, he was about to post a photo of him at the practice room after finishing practicing, saying: “practice is donee! 🔥 ㅋ what are engenes doing?”. the thing is that you were at the practice room just watching your boyfriend looking hot while dancing wearing his grey trousers and hoodie. oh, so what? what could go wrong? nothing, but riki didn’t double checked which pictures he was selecting and deciding to post, letting the photo where he kisses your cheek while sitting beside you on the ground slip from his sight.

okay, riki is the member that every engene goes crazy about, and you guys can’t tell me otherwise. so when he posted the photos, waiting for the engenes to see it and comment, everyone was confused and going nuts. “i’m going to ruin this girl’s life 🥺 ㅎㅎㅎㅎ” — and that was the comment he was the most afraid about. however, he was confused with those comments since he didn’t checked the photos and everyone was commenting about a girl in the picture. and then before he knew it, dispatch already has posted a screenshot of riki’s weverse account with the photo of both of you, saying: “who is this mysterious girl?”.

fortunately, your instagram account is private, just people you know follows you and comments on your posts. but, why are there literally hundreds of people wanting to follow you? you didn’t know, but people already have found you. sounds scary, and for you it is, but you thought you were just being paranoid about it, brushing away this strange feeling that was slowly growing in your chest.

this strange feeling just got worse when you saw riki sitting by your side and picking up his phone to answer engenes five minutes after posting the pictures he took two hours ago. as i mentioned, he wasn’t expecting to see comments like people threatening someone’s girl or something, making him concern about what he had done; because he knew he has taken a picture with you before deciding to post it. i think he got a bit carried away with his practice and forgot to check if the photos he had selected were okay before clicking the post button.

“‘ki? what happened?” you asked your pale boyfriend. “u-um… nothing.” you saw how awkward he was acting, fidgeting on his phone’s screen with eager, like he was trying to undo something as fast as possible. “are you cheating on me?” you joked, but watched your boyfriend flashing his head towards you gulping down tightly. “i may have– like…” riki leaned his body forward, getting his back off from the sofa’s material. “posted a picture of us kissing?” he dropped his head to the side, sending you a half-hearted smile. your mouth dropped, making him take a deep breath and rub his temples, pulling you for a hug. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t see it…” riki whispered, placing a sweet kiss onto your scalp. you were told shocked to answer his apologies, making him even more nervous and the guiltiness was punching his stomach.

riki was feeling like he was about to throw up. imagine losing your first love just because he accidentally pressed a single button? imagine losing the love of your life just because you did something stupid and dumb? it couldn’t be worse. but riki couldn’t get really into his deep feeling because his manager managed to snap the practice’s room door open, clearly not in his most calm state. “riki, meeting room.” the manager spoke firmly leaving the room beating his feet on the ground. riki whined against your hair, and you felt the manager’s gazing at you with anger — that made you feel extremely uncomfortable, but tried to shake this feeling off just to make things go smoother and easier, because you could tell it wasn’t going to be easy for poor riki. “see you later baby.” he sent you a flying kiss after pulling away from you, standing up from the sofa. “i’m sorry again okay? i’ll solve this.” he placed a kiss on your pouty lips and smiled at himself, like he was trying to enjoy the last moment he thought he had with you being his girlfriend.

thankfully, when riki arrived at the meeting room the manager seemed to be calmer. however, the CEO didn’t seemed like it, turning riki into a anxious mess. since the youngest was japanese, which means he was foreigner, the company was harsher with him. were more cruel and hostile in some kind of ways. except this time was a more of a serious topic, and the CEO wasn’t looking very happy. riki was already waiting for having to record a apology video and then break up with you or, worse, being expelled from the company’s team. even the thought of this possibility makes the black haired boy shiver from his head to his toe.

“nishimura riki, we need to talk.” was the first thing he heard echoing at the meeting room, and then this was the moment riki knew it was going to be a long day of talking. meanwhile, you were walking back home when suddenly heard your phone ringing. you quickly picked up the device from your coat’s pocket and answered the call, letting your boyfriend’s deep voice flow into your ear. “babe, i’m sorry but i had to agree with revealing our relationship.” his tone was apologetic, but you silently chuckled behind the call. “i mean– i feel bad for making this decision without your actual consent and opinion but otherwise i would have to leave you; and–” “it’s okay baby.” because of your tone, riki knew you were smiling. “where are you?” you heard him asking, making you realise you were just walking on the streets. proceeding to turn your body to take a look around, you answered replying: “i don’t know, it’s like–” “surprise, surprise~” you heard a familiar voice hum behind you. slowly turning your body towards the voice, you were met with the smiley figure of your boyfriend. “hey pretty.” his smile grew as he saw your eyes shining under the night sky. “do you have a boyfriend?” and you could only laugh at his attempt to make you smile between such a difficult situation you were put in; but now you couldn’t be happier without being a secret anymore, feeling so strong that you felt like you and riki could run through all those hate comments. yeah, both of you are definitely inseparable.

taglist: @jakesangel , @laylasbunbunny , @jaeyunpinkyring ( + ) @secretlyapartofthisfandom . . .

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angellesword · 13 hours

Text

BAGGAGE | JJK (07)

Summary: Drowning in debt and blood, Jeon Jungkook knows he's better off alone, lest he brings people down with him.

But one drunken night changes everything.

In a blink of an eye, Jungkook found himself drowning not only in debt and blood, but also in dirty diapers and judgmental stares from you, a.k.a his long-lost love and the guardian of the son he didn't even know existed.

Genre and warnings: best friends to lovers, co-parenting, idiots in love, mutual pining, angst, fluff, implied smut, kissing, minor character death, slight getting back together, drama, OC cusses excessively so watch out, blood, pregnancy, discussion of abortion, giving birth

Pairing: dad! Jungkook x adoptive mom!Reader

Word Count: 6.1k

← Previous Chapter (06) | Next Chapter (08) →

****

Six Years Ago, 2017:

France was not all that you expected. One would think people pursuing their doctorate degrees would be busier with their academic lives, but it looked like French people cared more about their social lives.

"Come on, just a few more steps!" Elyna, your classmate, chuckled while dragging your warm, sweaty body across the street. She almost tasted victory when she got a glimpse of the façade of your apartment.

Admittedly, Elyna still gets jealous whenever she remembers your apartment being nicer than hers. Talk about favoritism, huh? You were both scholars of Sorbonne University pursuing your doctorate degrees, but Professor Verlaine liked you the most.

"There you go! You can look after yourself, right? Bye, cutie." Elyna kissed your cheek before practically throwing you in your front door.

You were smaller in stature compared to your French classmates, making it easier for them to push and pull you around. You groaned when your back hit the door.

You were too drunk to cuss your classmate, so you could only suck it up and push yourself to enter your apartment. After what felt like forever, you finally stumbled inside, puffing out a breath and debating whether to just sleep on the floor.

Hours of clubbing with your classmates messed you up. You shouldn't have gone with them, but those shitty French didn't really give you a choice. Even Verlaine encouraged you to go out, going as far as postponing the submission of your business paper so you could have a fun Friday night.

Verlaine's exact words were, "Have fun. You've been in France for months already. You're the only international student who hasn't gone clubbing here."

You did not care for clubs. In fact, you hated them. You only attended your graduation parties and some quiet bars with Jungkook.

"Hah! Stupid pompous freak!" You cussed your traitor of a best friend, wanting nothing but to beat yourself for thinking about that bastard. You had done so well suppressing thoughts about Jungkook for the whole day. It's ten minutes before midnight. How could you fail so miserably?

You struggled to fish your phone out of your pocket, vision doubling, but that did not stop you from sending chains of messages to Jungkook.

To: Jungkook-shit I fucking hate you traitor

To: Jungkook-shit yoi betrayed me freak,. i hope you rot in hell

To: Jungkook-shit fucker

To: Jungkook-shit i hate you so mcuch pleas fo me a favor snd die

To: Jungkook-shit i will ndcevef dorgive you digshfit

To: Jungkook-shit dick

To: Jungkook-shit duck you

To: Jungkook-shit ny heart hirts

To: Jungkook-shitcan we go back?

The last message remained unsent as your intoxication finally caught up to you. You dropped your phone on the floor, face hitting the cold tiles as darkness clouded your vision.

You fell asleep.

***

That night, you had a long dream, which you were pretty sure had happened in real life—back when you were still very small, probably at five years old.

If you thought about it, you'd say the dream slash memory was triggered by going to a club with Elyna and the others. Your dream started off in a club, too.

Your Jisoo-unnie told you to hide in the closet and never make a sound, no matter who tried calling your name. You were an obedient child, only trusting your older sister. But it didn't mean your mother was as kind as Jisoo. Your mom would boss you around as she entertained guests. You basically served as an errand girl at a young age, forced to keep your mouth shut even when you saw your mother and the other girls get violently beaten up by rogue men.

"Where is my sister!?"

You were lighting heavy scented candles for your mother and client when you heard your sister's voice.

Your ears involuntarily perked up. You threw the matchbox aside and immediately ran out of the club's private room.

"Jisoo-unnie?" You blinked innocently.

Your sister was standing there, looking as if she was going to smack your mother. But Jisoo stopped when she heard you call for her.

"Don't take her away!" Your mother screeched and tried to pull Jisoo's hair.

Jisoo dodged, immediately running toward you and hugging your frail body. She covered your ears. "I will take her away! Please. Stop it! She’s just a kid!"

"Bah!" Your mother spat. "She earns me money, unlike a brat like you!"

"I will take her place." Jisoo did not even hesitate. She hugged you tighter. "Let me be your errand girl or whatever you want me to do. I will do it. Just leave her alone."

You couldn't properly hear what the adults were talking about. Jisoo covered your ear tighter to ensure you heard nothing. It took a while before your mother spat on the ground for the second time, but she relented and let Jisoo take you away.

Your memories were pretty vague. All you remembered was that Jisoo had brought you into a tiny apartment; it was cramped and dark and smelled like dead rats. But it was better than those heavy-scented rooms at the club. At least in here, Jisoo cared for you and did not try to beat you up.

It didn't mean all your trauma would go away instantly, though. There were many moments when you would wake up in the middle of the night, silently crying because of a nightmare. You usually dreamt about your mother's client beating up girls and throwing profanities at everyone, including you.

"It's okay, my little one. Your Jisoo-unnie is here, I'll protect you." You weren't sure if you were recalling memories of the past or if it was just part of your drunken dream. All you knew was that Jisoo's warm embrace was palpable. She used to cradle your little body in her arms.

You were a docile kid, wings clipped by those men at the club. They used to threaten to beat you up if you so much as made a small noise or a mistake. For a long time, you carried that pain and refused to talk to your Jisoo-unnie, or anyone else, for that matter. At school, kids made fun of you for acting all meek and weak.

There was a time when Jisoo was called by your teacher, asking if there was something wrong at home for you to act so distantly. You were seven years old around at this time, and you still didn't understand adult words. You just recalled your teacher telling Jisoo that you needed therapy or whatever that was.

Jisoo was barely of legal age. Your mother had a cut whenever Jisoo took in clients at the club. She spent more than half her money to feed you and ensure you could attend class.

Your Jisoo-unnie only had one reminder: "Study well, my dear. That's all I ask. You can get anything you want if you're smart and have lots of money."

You still didn't speak much but diligently followed whatever your sister said. Things took a turn after your teacher talked to Jisoo. The latter took the teacher's advice to heart, but she didn't have enough money to bring you to a professional. She could simply improvise.

"My dear, there's nothing to be scared of anymore, okay? I won't ever hurt you the way they did. Here," Jisoo offered her cheek to you. "You can slap me and tell me all the bad things those men did to you, I won't ever fight back."

You shook your head rapidly, cowering. Memories of those nasty men came like a tidal wave, sweeping you off your feet until you felt nauseated.

"Sshh, my dear. It's okay. Just try, okay...You're okay."

It took a lot of conviction before you relented. Every day, Jisoo would coax you to act like a regular kid who was not frightened of acting difficult and throwing tantrums. She made you feel like it was okay to be mean and that whatever you did or said, you would still be loved—this was the beginning of you having a sharp mouth that couldn't go one statement with profanities leaving your mouth.

You got away with so many things because of Jisoo.

That had been your setup for many years, but your life slowly progressed. You worked hard in school while Jisoo did all the jobs available to her. You got out of that tiny apartment and were able to move to a new house. You were initially reluctant to leave, afraid you would lose connection with the first friend you made in the neighborhood—Jungkook.

You didn't talk to Jungkook before, either. You two would casually sit beside each other and be in your own world.

"You don't have an adult at home? Cool, me too." That was the first thing Jungkook told you. You weren't bothered by his presence before, but Jungkook had become insufferable over time, teasing you here and there until you had to snarl at him.

Despite your banter, you had grown attached to Jungkook and even begged Jisoo not to separate you. Jisoo smiled at you, ruffling your hair and explaining that you would only move to a nicer home, but it was still around the area.

You felt relief flood your veins. Things were going well. You slowly healed from your traumatic childhood as you stayed close to Jungkook and your Jisso-unnie. Your sister kept her promise, never once leaving you.

Every day, Jisoo would go home to you. You gingerly waited for your sister to arrive; you'd set aside your homework and other stuff to open your front door and greet Jisoo with a simple "Welcome home!"

You couldn't maintain your happy façade as Jisoo smiled faintly at you, coughing and smelling like smoke. There were bags under her eyes, too exhausted at her work at the club.

You were getting older. You thought you could apply for a part-time job and help your sibling with the expenses, but Jisoo wanted you to focus on your studies. She brushed your concern off, saying, "It's just secondhand smoke. You know those men at the club, they can't live without cigarettes. Don't worry."

As usual, you blindly followed your sister's request. You hid your verbal concerns and could only welcome her home with hot water with honey. You did your best to care for your Jisoo-unnie until you moved to the university dorm and got busier with school. As time passed, your time with Jisoo lessened until it reached a point where Jisoo would not contact you. She even went as far as betraying you.

She must have known, right? How could she not know that you were hopelessly in love with Jungkook? How could the two most important people in your life betray you like this?

It just didn't make sense.

But then again, nothing made sense—not when feelings were involved. For instance, you flew all the way to Europe so you wouldn't have to deal with the mess back in Incheon. You had cut off connections with Jungkook and Jisoo, but months later, right when you were recovering from your hangover from clubbing too much, was when your doorbell rang.

It's probably Professor Verlaine, you thought. You didn't bother checking the peephole because, for one, you didn't want to see your professor looking prim and proper while you looked like shit. You were still wearing your clothes from last night and you just got up from the floor. Seeing Verlaine at the peephole would make you want to freshen up first; you just didn't have the energy for that.

And for fuck's sake. It's seven in the morning. Seven! Anyone who dared to disturb you at this ungodly hour deserved to see your bed hair, drool on the side of your mouth included.

So you opened the door, fully expecting to grin at your professor, but your smile froze mid-air.

You were still hungover, yet your reflexes were as agile as ever.

You slammed the door shut—no, wait, that's wrong. You swore you were about to slam the door shut. You were not a pushover and didn't intend to talk to your traitor sister.

But you stood there, stiff and unable to shut the door to her face when you heard her cough.

A stupid fucking cough.

Jisoo coughed, and you felt as if you were a child again, excited to open the door and welcome your sister home with hot water mixed with honey from the comb.

***

In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. Jisoo could go a long time without contacting you, though she could never cut you off completely.

Once, she promised to stay with you forever, and until now, that promise still stands.

A promise is a promise.

Jisoo was sitting on your couch. You foolishly let her in, heart still throbbing after hearing your sister's cough. It was just a stupid cough, yet you felt your resolve crumbling.

This can't be. You couldn't possibly still have a soft spot for her.

"Ya having a sidepiece spawn?"—so you attacked her.

Jisoo visibly flinched at the roughness of your tone. You sighed a breath of relief. Her expression would help you sleep at night: Jisoo lowered her eyes, lashes trembling because of your intense look at her stomach. You longed to damage her heart until all she wished to do was run.

Jisoo called your name, choking back a sob. It was hard to say if it was because of the guilt she felt toward you or if it was because of what you called her unborn child.

Yes, Jisoo was heavily pregnant.

It was unfair. Jisoo felt the kick in her belly while you felt like your heart had been stomped.

"It's Jungkook's." There was no room for rebuttal. You said it with finality.

Jisoo didn't deny it, either.

"Of fucking course." You chuckled mercilessly. "How many rounds of 'playing around' did it take before you finally managed to get knocked up?"

"We weren't playing around." Jisoo defended. It was real. The thing they have done, it was real. "But I never dated him."

You scoffed. "But you fucked him." Your jaw slackened. Looking at your sister ignited your anger.

"Once." Jisoo was desperate.

You did not know what to feel anymore. A searing headache hit you. You barked a laugh.

"Tell me, Jisoo-unnie," you said pointedly. You might as well knife her heart. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Crashing defeat settled at the pit of Jisoo's stomach. The baby kicked her tummy aggressively like it was punishing her, too.

Jisoo called your name, trying again. "It was a one-time thing."

"A one-time thing." You repeated. It was probably said to reassure you, but it didn't. If anything, you just found a way to nitpick her excuse. "Not a one-time mistake?"

Jisoo inhaled sharply. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to cup her stomach to calm her baby, but she saw your piercing gaze there, leaving Jisoo no choice but to keep her hands on her side.

"We were both drunk. I admit, it was a moment of weakness."

Cliche. You snarled, feeling acid burn your throat. You wanted to vomit bile. "Still not calling it a mistake?"

"We both wanted it."

"Why!" Millions of questions attacked your head at once. Why did you betray me!? Why did you sleep with him, out of all people!? Was it good!? Was it worth breaking my trust? Why did you want it!?

Jisoo parted her lips, seemingly ready to answer your query, but you raised your hand to shut her up.

Jisoo obediently followed.

"Don't answer that." You felt your knees buckling. You wanted to crawl and die.

"It is—"

"Please, stop." You were certain your heart had been broken to pieces, and you thought there was no way Jisoo could shatter it more.

But now you weren’t so sure anymore.

You could only storm off to your room, slamming the door and hoping Jisoo would leave you alone.

***

Jisoo did not leave you alone. She was sheepishly sitting on the couch when you emerged from your room.

"You're still here," you observed, no snark in your voice, but exhaustion was there.

"I will be here," Jisoo responded with a small smile.

You ignored her, but she kept her promise.

She stayed the whole day in your home. The next day, she was still there.

Then the next.

And the next day.

You couldn't keep track anymore.

***

You and Jisoo were certainly not on good terms or talking terms. Fortunately, you learned to cohabitate without tearing each other apart.

Sometimes, you would buy baby clothes for Jisoo's child. You’d leave the shopping bag on the couch where your sister usually sat. However, you wouldn’t wait to see her reaction after checking the clothes.

Once, though, you accidentally saw her hugging the new clothes you had bought.

You caught Jisoo's gaze. Your sister smiled shyly at you.

Unlike before, you didn't immediately look away. In fact, you gazed at her as if asking, "It's white. A pretty neutral color. That should work, right?"

You weren't siblings without a reason. Jisoo picked up the question in your eyes.

She embraced the clothes tighter. "It's a boy. You’re going to have a nephew."

You did not react. You cast your gaze away and wordlessly left your sister alone.

But the next day, you had ten shopping bags in your hand. You left them at the usual spot.

Blue. You brought blue clothes and a bunch of toys.

You also brought pink clothes because assigning colors to gender was stupid.

But also because your nephew would surely look cute in blue, pink, and all other colors.

***

Jisoo was 32 weeks pregnant when you made up your mind to say something to her.

"That's it." You barged into the bathroom, catching your sister on the spot. She was vomiting blood.

Jisoo gave a start; her eyes were glistening with tears when she snapped her head up and met your glare. She hurriedly wiped her mouth.

"Why are you here?" Jisoo felt cornered, so she stepped back like a frightened lamb.

You smacked your lips together, finding this situation ridiculous. Jisoo had already slept with Jungkook; nothing could ever top that betrayal, so why was she acting like you would strangle her for puking blood?

"This is my apartment, in case you forgot."

"That's not what I meant." Jisoo inhaled as she struggled to swallow blood back to her stomach. "You're supposed to be at school."

"Yeah, whatever I skipped." You couldn't bear to see your trembling sister any longer. You helped her sit on the wide edge of the bathtub.

You worried about your Jisoo-unnie. She'd been retching in the bathroom almost daily. She thought she could hide it by turning the faucet on to muffle the sound, but she was wrong.

You planned to put an end to this. Your brow creased. "Enough with your bullshit. You are thirty-two weeks pregnant, and you can't possibly still be experiencing morning sickness. Even if you were, you'd be vomiting vile or that strawberry yogurt you've been eating every day. Not fucking blood."

"It's fine." Jisoo brushed it off, making a move to stand and end this conversation. You two never talked for more than one minute since she arrived, so why were you being loud now?

"You are not getting out of this conversation." You blocked her way out, glaring at her with the storm in your eyes. "I'll ask again. Why are you vomiting blood?"

The silence was deafening.

You wanted to punch the mirror. You cursed your sister; your eyes were turning bloodshot. The betrayal from before was back in full force. The fact that Jisoo wasn't telling you anything made you feel like she was hiding a nasty secret again.

You couldn't handle any more treachery. You might actually die.

"Don't lie to me again—" You cut yourself off, afraid you’d make yourself look pathetic by murmuring a soft please.

Jisoo stubbornly refused to speak. She watched as tears fell into her open palm.

She had done so well hiding this. She didn't want to tell you about her sickness, but every second that passed made Jisoo feel like the distance between you and her was stretching.

In the end, she could only concede.

"I'm dying." Shallow breath. "I've cancer."

This time, it wasn't the distance that stretched but the silence.

Jisoo dared to peek at your reaction as the silence made her uncomfortable. Only two people knew she was sick: Jungkook and now you.

Jungkook at least hugged her and wiped her hands, telling her it would be all right.

But Jungkook was Jungkook. She hadn't done anything to hurt him.

But you? She shattered and betrayed you, so she should have expected it when she heard your giddy chuckle. However, when Jisoo looked at you, no sign of happiness or sadness could be traced on your face.

It was eerily impassive.

And then she heard you say:

"Good. That's good. I hope you die."

The bathroom door slammed shut, leaving Jisoo with tears in her eyes and kicking unborn child.

***

Jisoo was 33 weeks pregnant when you gave up on radio silence. Your sister was lying on the bed she bought herself. Your apartment only had one bedroom, but Jisoo still squeezed herself in. Seeing her dozing off on the couch was a pain, so one day, you brought brochures where Jisoo could choose a bed of her liking.

Jisoo bought a single bed, putting it close to your bed. You two slept without bothering each other. Tonight, though, you couldn't take it anymore.

You lay on your side, staring directly at Jisoo. Your sister was already looking at you.

She smiled and said hi.

You didn't bother with greetings. You went straight to the point.

"What type of cancer." It was like you were reporting the weather, refusing to ask the question properly. Your monotonous voice made you appear apathetic. No one knew how heavy your heart was.

"Does it matter?" Jisoo cupped her bulging belly. Her baby seemed excited whenever he heard his aunt speaking. He was wildly kicking Jisoo's belly.

"Tsk. Just answer the damn question. Why do you have to make everything difficult?"

This was starting to get on your nerves. Even after everything that happened, you still weren’t used to Jisoo not indulging you.

"It's not difficult. It just doesn't matter. I'm dying, anyway." Just like what you wanted. But Jisoo didn't say the last part. She was not in a position to hold grudges against you.

You hugged your pillow to your chest like you wanted to shield your heart that was about to jump out of your body.

"Just answer."

It was getting harder for you to breathe. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead; you couldn't seem to get the image of Jisoo coughing in your head.

Please don't let it be lung cancer. Please don't let it be lung cancer. Please don't let it be lung cancer. Please don't let it be lung cancer. Please don't let it be lung cancer—

"It's lung cancer."

Your heart missed a beat.

"How much time do you have left?" You dug your nails into the pillow while Jisoo sighed. She was sure you couldn't wait for her to die.

"Not too long. Maybe I'll pass soon after I have my baby."

"But why." Jisoo wasn't sure if she was imagining things, but she thought she heard you whine. "Don't you have a treatment plan? Fucking chemotherapy and stuff?"

"Chemotherapy is harmful for the baby." Jisoo's tone was soft.

"Fuck the baby!"

Even you were surprised by how resentful you were. But it was true, wasn't it? Her baby was the devil's spawn. It was the fruit of betrayal, so why was Jisoo choosing it over herself?

"Why didn't you abort it?" You abruptly sat on the bed, shooting daggers at Jisoo. A whirlpool of abuse danced at the tip of your tongue. You didn't voice it out because Jisoo looked sad.

"Don't be like that to Soobin."

"Who the fuck is Soobin? Why should I care!?"

"It's your nephew's name," Jisoo explained patiently as she caressed her stomach. Soobin had stopped kicking, probably scared of his aunt.

"That's such a basic name. It's so ugly. I hate it. I hate him."

You didn't give your sister a chance to speak. "Forget it." You turned off the lampshade. "I don't want to talk to you anymore. I'm going to sleep."

You laid back down. Darkness enveloped the room. This was better. This way, you couldn't see the sadness in Jisoo’s face.

But you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned all night, but nothing worked.

It's my fault. You wanted to say. Jisoo got cancer because of you. That club was a rotten place. You should've stopped her from working there.

Lung cancer. What a bullshit thing to have.

"Don't die." A week ago, you were saying the complete opposite. "If you die, I'll chase you to hell. You can't die, Jisoo."

You still have debts to pay. I have not forgiven you yet. You have to suffer my eternal wrath, so do not die before me.

*** In Jisoo's 34th week of pregnancy, you had asked her another question.

"Why did you do it?"

Jisoo didn't need context. She knew exactly what you were talking about, but like before, you cut her off before she could explain.

"Never mind." You covered your face with a blanket and slept.

***

In Jisoo's 35th week of pregnancy, you pestered her again about chemotherapy.

"I told you already. It's harmful for Soobin."

"And I told you already, I don't care about Soobin." You rebutted.

This bedtime routine was tiring Jisoo. She felt like she was arguing with a wall.

"Good night," so she just turned off the lampshade and went to bed.

*** You asked about the betrayal again in Jisoo's 36th week of pregnancy.

"Are you sure you want to know now?" Jisoo's carefulness shot your heart.

You shook your head, your chest heaving.

"No," you admitted. "Never mind it."

***

Jisoo's 37th weeks pregnant when you panicked upon seeing her looking like she was in a lot of pain.

"What's the matter?" Your heart leaped to your throat. You were beside Jisoo at once.

Jisoo bit her lip and wiped the sweat on her forehead. "It's nothing. Your nephew's just being naughty. He keeps kicking my tummy."

Oh.

Your heartbeat returned to normal. And then you snorted and folded your arms across your chest. "Tell that scrub to shut his trap and quit being annoying."

You were about to return to your bed when Jisoo seized your wrist.

You flinched, but you didn't push her away.

It gave Jisoo the courage to push through her suggestion. She cleared her throat, "Why don't you pacify him yourself? He's quite obedient. Here, I'll guide you."

Jisoo slowly led your hand to her tummy. Your hand was stiff at first, almost resisting when you had contact with the skin of Jisoo's belly.

"Sshh, it's okay, dear." Jisoo's voice was like a lullaby. You relaxed at once.

It took you a while before you finally started caressing your sister's stomach without wanting to die.

And then you felt it.

"Oh!" Your eyes grew big. "He kicked me! Your kid kicked me!"

An involuntary chuckle came out of Jisoo. "Yes, he likes his aunt a lot."

"Hmp." You withdrew your hands. "Too bad I don't care about him."

Jisoo didn't react because, deep down, you were fooling no one.

***

You asked about the betrayal again in Jisoo's 38th week of pregnancy. Jisoo had learned her lesson, so she did not speak and pretended to be asleep.

***

You found the courage to be honest in Jisoo's 39th week of pregnancy.

"I take it back." You gripped your blanket. "Soobin isn't so bad. I think his name is cute."

Jisoo gasped, which had you worrying. You thought your sister was in pain again. These days, all she did was vomit blood.

However, Jisoo's gasp was because of plain surprise. She beamed at you, "Soobin just kicked me three times. He means to say he loves you."

"You're an idiot, and you know it." You clicked your tongue in disgust, "Tell your devil spawn I hate him."

Your words were harsh, but Jisoo knew your heart was melting.

Just a few more. Jisoo mused, mentally patting her baby's head. Your aunt’s gonna warm up to you soon, Bin-bin.

***

Jisoo was in her 40th week of pregnancy when she gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

It took a while before you got out of the hospital because of Jisoo's worsening condition. Thankfully, you were there to look after Soobin.

"Welcome home, mon bébé," you secretly whispered when you finally got home.

Soobin cooed at you, and you wanted to cry.

You stopped calling Soobin the devil's spawn.

***

Jisoo's 3 weeks postpartum, and she was delirious.

"Jisoo-unnie, it's time for your medicine." You were sitting in your sister's bed with a glass of water in your hand.

"Honey water again...?" She blinked, eyes unfocused. She was hot to touch. "I don't want honey water. You make them too sweet."

"This is not honey water." You tried to make her drink, but Jisoo was stubborn.

She called your name. “My dear, please. You have to listen to me, alright? Hide in the closet. Don't answer even when mom calls for you. I will..." She cupped your cheek. "I will be back for you, okay?"

Postpartum was foreign to you, but you figured your sister was struggling.

"There's no need to hide. I'm not a five-year-old anymore, Jisoo-unnie."

It was the wrong thing to say because Jisoo scowled. She was unhappy, though she kept caressing your face.

"What are you saying? You'll always be my little girl."

***

Jisoo's 9 weeks postpartum when her mind cleared up. Regrettably, her body became weaker.

"You can't even carry your own baby," you taunted, peering down at your bedridden sister as you gently rocked Soobin in your arms.

Your nephew was so well-behaved.

"It's okay." Jisoo coughed. "Soobin has you."

"I'm not a babysitter." You jutted your chin, annoyed. "Hurry up and get better. I'm getting tired of—oh."

You weren't able to finish whatever you were saying. You couldn't even remember what you were trying to prove. All your thoughts vanished when Soobin wrapped his tiny hand around your pinky.

"Jisoo-unnie! Look! Look! He's holding me!" You stepped closer to Jisoo's bed, crouching down so your sister could see.

Jisoo forced out a smile. But that small action was taxing to her body. She coughed up blood again. She wiped it before you could see it.

"That's good. That's really, really good...."

***

Jisoo was 10 weeks postpartum, and she was still rotting in bed.

"You have to force yourself to get better," you demanded, a deep scowl on your lips. "Just look at your son. He clings to me a lot. Do you want him to recognize me as his mom?"

Your statement was meant to be threatening, but it made Jisoo happier.

"He is yours, dear." Her voice was barely above a whisper. She didn't have the energy to speak louder, but she could still smile. "He is meant to stay by your side."

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes. "I'm not cut out to be a parent. This is your mess. I was not there when you made him." I was against you making him. You hurt me.

Jisoo's forehead creased, though. She didn't agree with you. "But I made him for you."

What?

You couldn't believe your ears. If postpartum was this kind of bitch, then you were willing to fight it. It was making your Jisoo-unnie act crazy. She was full of shit.

"Soobin...stay...you..." And she was blabbering random words.

You touched her forehead. She was burning. Her fever was probably making her crazy.

"Next time, I'm bringing you to an asylum." Soobin slept soundly in his crib, so you had time to care for your sister. You put a wet towel on her forehead. "You're crazy, did you know that? Who would have thought a cute baby like Soobin came from a nasty girl like you?"

Jisoo's scowl deepened. She struggled and weakly caught your wrist. "No. Soobin looks like...me."

You glanced at Soobin's sleeping form. Yeah, right.

"Keep dreaming. It's free."

"No." Jisoo cried. It looked like she took your statement to heart. "He looks like me...he should look like me..."

Suddenly, Jisoo was crying. You were stunned. What was this drama queen crying for!?

"He looks like me. Please. He should remind me of you. I'm dying, I'm dying. I'm dying--!!"

Your eyes widened. Jisoo was out of control. She was sobbing and kicking her feet, albeit weakly.

"Jisoo-unnie, calm down." You held her hands, giving up. "I believe you, okay? Soobin looks like you."

She was easy to pacify. She stopped crying at once, and then she cupped your cheeks.

"My dear, my little one...I'm sorry, your Jisoo-unnie can't keep her promise to you. I'm going soon. Stay...stay with Soobin, alright?"

Jisoo slowly trailed off. The terrible realization slapped you in the face.

You were shaking, bile crawling to your throat when you connected the dots:

There was a high possibility that Jisoo, your sister, planned on sleeping with Jungkook so she could get pregnant. She wished to get pregnant because, after all this time, she still saw you as a little girl who needed someone by her side.

And since she was dying, she needed someone to...

You stopped thinking. You looked at Soobin's sleeping form and sobbed; your sister's words echoed in your mind:

Stay with Soobin. I made him for you.

Fuck.

***

In Jisoo's twisted way, what she did was for your sake. Unfortunately, you did not ask any of this.

Jisoo was 15 weeks postpartum. She was like a withered flower. No color was left on her face. Death was around the corner.

"Are you there, my dear?"

You did not answer. The question you didn't have an answer to entered your mind. You hadn't asked in a long time. Should you?

"Why did you betray me?" You asked it aloud before you could think properly. You thought Jisoo's too weak to answer, but she forced herself to speak.

"I was lonely. We were both lonely."

In the grand scheme of things, that explanation should have made sense. Lonely people sought comfort. You should be the first to understand that. But you didn't. It only brought you pain.

"I can't make you happy?" But you were her sister and Jungkook...Jungkook was your best friend. How could you not know that the people you loved were suffering? That they were lonely? Were you that...insensitive?

"It's not about you." Jisoo groaned. She was in a lot of pain. "You will never understand our grief. Your life is...a bliss."

The pain was unbearable. You wanted to cover your ears. You regretted asking that question, but you just couldn't stop.

"So you don't trust me? You don't think I'd understand you?" Did Jungkook think so too?

Jisoo didn't give a clear answer. She couldn't breathe. Her chest was stuffy.

Silence prevailed.

You stared blankly at Jisoo.

Jisoo struggled to maintain her breathing. She called your name.

"Have you forgiven me?"

It took you an eternity to respond, but your tone was biting when you did.

"You and Jungkook bonded over something you thought I was too immature to understand, so tell me, Jisoo-unnie, how can I forgive you?"

It meant to hurt. But Jisoo smiled through the pain.

She seemed...happy.

"Good…Good. Don't forgive me. I don't deserve it."

Blood. There was blood everywhere. Jisoo was barely awake.

"But leave Soobin...out of your...anger. That kid will love you. I swear, he will love you."

You had no plans to give Soobin away.

"I know...I am in no position to ask you anything, but...Jungkook...he must know about his son. He deserves that much, no--" She seemed to shake her head. "Soobin deserves that much....Promise me, in three..."

She paused. She was thinking....calculating...

"No four...four years...three years..." It was getting confusing. "Return him home in three years. Ugh."

Jisoo couldn't hold on.

She called your name. “ You and Soobin...you two are my life...I love you...I'll see..." you.

Jisoo didn't get to finish her last statement. She died, eyes clamped shut and blood splattering everywhere.

She died while her son slept, and you wept.

**** A/N: I wrote this for so many hours...this is not edited, I feel like I'm going to vomit if I read this chapter one more time. Imdeadtired.exe.

We will be back in the present in the next chapter.

← Previous Chapter (06) | Next Chapter (08) →

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #ficswithluv #jungkook x oc #bts fic #jungkook x y/n #pseudo cheating

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dragon-watcher03 · 2 days

Note

I like when ppl write their own version of mk intros, so I shall request those. I don't have any specific idea for reader's backstory so I'd love to see what you come up with o/

Thx for the motivation, you gave me a brilliant idea-

Mk1 x Gn! Doom God! Reader

Note: Reader uses mini scythes connected via chains as a Krucible and has armour more like those from Halo.

Ft. Liu Kang, Johnny Cage, Raiden, Kitana, Shang Tsung

Liu Kang: You are a God in your realm?

You: I'd rather go with Slayer, but yes.

Liu Kang: The fact that your realm's Seraphims see you as nothing but a weapon... doesn't sit right with me.

You: Why? It is my sole purpose.

Liu Kang: Slaying demons for many decades must have been challenging.

You: Less challenging, more soul-draining.

You: I do not intend to stay here long, Lord Liu Kang.

Liu Kang: At least grant me one last spar?

You: There is another like me, but he is a lot less talkative.

Liu Kang: I have no doubt he isn't as honorable as you.

You: The humans in this world are very different than the ones back at home...

Liu Kang: How so?

Johnny Cage: So, what exactly are you the God of?

You: I am no God, but people have no better words to describe me.

Johnny Cage: C'mon, you and your buddy would totally fit in a first-person shooter!

You: I have better demons to fight than Paparazzi, Cage.

Johnny Cage: So, this buddy of yours, he anything other than just your partner in crime?

You: Even if we were, I wouldn't tell you.

You: I have no time for trivial things like "love".

Johnny Cage: Sheesh, talk about workaholic.

You: I know what you're going to ask, and no, you can't hold my Krucible.

Johnny Cage: Y'know if you weren't such a buzzkill, I'd totally tap that.

You: Do you get anything out of flirting with me?

Johnny Cage: The possibility of courting a Goddess/God.

Raiden: Your people see you as a God?

You: Yeah, they even made a whole religion based on us.

Raiden: This other "Doom God" you speak of, he sounds like a ruthless man.

You: Oh trust me, he is.

Raiden: Is it foolish of me to request a spar with a demon-killing God?

You: Don't worry, I'll be gentle.

You: That amulet you have is fascinating...

Raiden: As is that weapon of yours.

You: Ashrah is a Demon? She looks so human compared to the ones back at home.

Raiden: Whatever monsters you deal with at home, I can assure you she is nothing like them.

You: Are you sure you want to meet him?

Raiden: When you speak so highly of him, how can I not?

Kitana: The war you fight sounds worse than Outworlds.

You: I pray this universe will never experience such a war...

Kitana: I feel like you and my sister would get along well.

You: I take from the way you say that, that it's a compliment.

Kitana: The humans of your world call you "Ruin God"?

You: A synonym for Doom, which relates the name back to Doom God.

You: I must say, you were right about getting along with Mileena.

Kitana: The blood coating your armour seems to prove so.

You: I have been alive for so long with the mind of a human, that I started to forget who my parents were...

Kitana: I'm... sorry to hear that, Ruin.

You: I hoped to not get attached to any of you to make my departure easier.

Kitana: laughs Guess that didn't work out so well, did it?

Shang Tsung: Well, aren't you a fine specimen.

You: Back off you cretin, or you'll see why we are called Gods.

Shang Tsung: I could set you and your partner free from the shackles of being weapons for your world.

You: And be yours instead? I'd rather serve the Seraphims.

Shang Tsung: We could have been such a powerful couple, you and I.

You: I already have a stronger and better suitor, sorcerer.

You: You are worse than the demons back at home...

Shang Tsung: Oh~ feeling feisty now are we?

You: You are playing with forces beyond your power, sorcerer.

Shang Tsung: Then let's play~

You: You look horrible. Did you finally meet him?

Shang Tsung: Tch, how you two have such power for mere humans is beyond my comprehension.

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat x reader #scorpion x reader #kuai liang #kitana #kitana x reader #liu kang x reader #liu kang #johnny x reader #johnny cage #mortal kombat 1

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watchingblsnowandforever · 2 days

Text

We Are Ep. 11

Part 2

Hello again!!!

Here's part 1 of this post. It's not necessary to read that, but this does follow directly from there.

Warning: long post 😊😅

And again, we see Phum coming here for no reason but to drop Peem off.

Also, he usually just stayed in the car previously, but now he's walking with Peem all the way.

I reckon we'll be seeing much more of Phum appearing in front of the Fine Arts building for nothing but to drop off or talk to his boyfriend Peem, in a slight reflection of all the times he came here to take Peem off somewhere to make him do something for him.

And I can't wait for it. <3

Q: something very gay is going on here hmm 🤨

Be glad it's Q (who has enough tact to ask you about it in private) and not Toey who'd immediately call y'all out 😭

He played in water all day with Phum and then they cuddled all night. Next question.

Poor Peem 😭

You just confessed you woke up together 😭

And you think someone as smart (most of the times) as Q wouldn't catch on?

[Also, just an observation: Peem is painting a scenery with water here too.]

Beer knows everything. 😌

He's the only one in their combined friend groups with two braincells, and he has no difficulty calling out his friends (Phum) when they're being idiots.

And again 😭

I see it's not your turn with the braincell yet, Peem

Also, the chicken sounds in the background I was dying 😭😂

Phum's backstory was painful to hear, but I kind of expected something like this. It would explain his attachment to plushies, his fear of losing people and behaviour that might seem "childish".

SO CUTE OH MY GODS

Q gives his beloved pencil case to his beloved nong Toey to draw on, and what does Toey do? Make the most adorable doodle of his beloved P'Q 😭👍🏼

Seriously though, this is really good, and it also probably has a beautiful symbolism that I'm too lazy to go into right now 😭

Coming from Q that means a lot. And Toey knows that very well.

Again, what secretly, you're both about as subtle as the glaring sun on a hot summer day.

And it's time you two idiots (affectionate) get your shit together and kiss as boyfriends (gods know you've kissed as... whatever you are right now more times than I can keep count).

Yeah! You're talking nonsense, Phum, it's obvious you fell first!

*sigh* honestly though, at this point, I don't know how, but they managed to be worse than even ChainPun.

Jokes apart, I know they're both a bit insecure, and they didn't get off to the best start. But I hope that in the next ep, they'll realize they're both head over heels for the other and finally start dating.

Also, about time Peem finally accepted Phum as his personal driver <3

That scene in the shop was very sweet too, and most PhumPeem scenes in this ep had me going all gooey and mushy hehe

This show I calling me out 🥲

But I'm even worse because I can only make Maggi (with or without added condiments) 😭

Do y'all see the importance of this moment?!

Phum in the painting studio?!

This painting studio is Peem's safe space, and he's allowing Phum in there willingly.

Slowly, but surely, he's letting Phum in, and starting to accept that yes, this guy is an idiot, but he's an idiot Peem really really likes.

I knew this was coming but that didn't mean I was ready for it 🫣😳

TanFang are absolutely slaying

Love them. <3

This scene is a goddamn masterpiece. It rendered me speechless. What am I supposed to say to that?

Peem's soft little "You did a great job, getting through those times." has me in a chokehold. The nose boop, the kiss- I'm screaming crying rolling around on the bed.

Tried to do a confident walk away but the gate was in his way 😭

Peem is me though, I bump into things like thrice a day at the least.

He- 😶

I gasped at this scene, because you realize what this means right?

This painting, that was ruined due to Phum, that he had to painstakingly repaint while having to obey Phum's whims, this painting that represents his comfort (I don't know shit about art interpretation, but in grade 12 I had friends who'd taken art and I learnt a couple things from them), that represents himself, and in this painting, he adds bright red roses, for the ones that Phum gave him when he was driving him back because he was absolutely wasted, the roses he didn't have the heart to throw out.

And he's drawing these red roses to represent Phum, to show that inexplicably, but undeniably, Phum is a part of his life now; a part he likes enough to embed in one of his most prized paintings (as assumed from various context clues and such along the series). And when he does, he thinks of how Professor Po said "Every work you create contains a piece of you".

If doesn't show that despite his caustic and sarcastic exterior, Peem is a sappy mushy romantic at heart (he is a Fine Arts student after all), I don't know what does.

This moment felt so poetic (I literally could write a poem about it and it still wouldn't be able to capture the raw beauty and vulnerability and love of this scene.)

I really like this scene.

Apart from not leaving Kluen hanging, and making sure he knows, this moment is also about Peem admitting to himself aloud, that yes, he does like Phum. He's slowly getting out of De Nile.

He didn't have to say this, but he did. To gently reject Kluen and tell himself that there was no going back now.

Matt: what in the gay chicken-

Toey: ooh this seems interesting. will they kiss? 👀

Poor Chain 😭

Let him enjoy being shipped with his husband bestie!

And all the while these two are having a staring contest to decide who'll tell their friends.

Beer knows exactly what's going on.

This moment is everything to me (other than the one in the painting studio of course0.

Peem tried to muster the courage to tell all his friends that he and Phum were... well, more than enemies or friends at least, but he couldn't.

And Phum, my beloved, while more than a little emotionally constipated, he has consistently tried to tell Peem what he feels. And now, he's the one outright saying he likes Peem in front of everyone. He's the one saying "okay, if you can't, I will." And I love him for it. He does it while staring right at Peem too.

Live Reactions of Friends Who Just Found Out that the Guy Who Ruined Other Guy's Painting and The Other Guy, Who Kicked Him In The Balls For It, Have Fallen Victim to the BL Laws and Are Now Very Much In Love

Beer: knew it 😌

Fang: my little brother?!

Tan: YOU AREN'T SWORN ENEMIES?!

Matt: I have to deal with another couple?? 🥺🥲

Q: I'm not drunk enough to deal with this shit.

Toey: wait... I WAS RIGHT?!!

That freaking cliffhanger though 🥲

It's better now but at the moment I wanted to commit homicide 😭

I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself, Q's "RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?!" expression is just too hilarious 😭😂

So that's all for ep 11, see you next week!

And if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a burger and some fries 🍔🍟

[If you want, my previous posts: Ep. 8 Ep.9 Ep.10]

#we are the series #we are #we are series #thai bl #watching bls: we are #let's talk bl #phumpeem #qtoey #tanfang #chainpun

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blacklegsanjiii · 2 days

Note

wait what if in lunarian!sanji but sanji and king escaped together and ended up in wano? :0 mb sanji and yamato can end up friends, depending on the age gap, and it would be funny if this was also transfem!sanji bc she and transmasc!yamato would prbly bond over gender and shitty fathers. sanji would likely be very upset with kaido over yamato's explosive cuffs and want to help him escape, but not quite sure what king would do if that happens

So based off the other Lunarian!Sanji asks I just answered(I'm so fucking sorry) and King managed to take Sanji to Wano with him, the closed off island would be the safest option for them in the long run. I don't think King would be a bad father necessarily, not after what he and Sanji had gone through but he would make bad choices regarding their safety.

So they arrive and surprisingly there's another child around Sanji's age. Yamato tells Sanji he's a boy and Sanji says he and his dad are Lunarians because he's like seven/eight. They start hanging out and eventually Sanji asks about the cuffs and Yamato tells him with a sad voice and Sanji vows to help him. He runs and tells his dad what's going on and Alber holds him and tells him they'll have to be careful about how they go about this.

When Sanji is older she realizes she's a girl and Alber nods, could see the signs from years ago, the way his child was drawn to the more feminine kimonos and liked long hair. Alber makes the changes easily. Yamato and the others do as well, gender has never been much of a hassle to them, Yamato saying he's Oden can get annoying but that's about it. Yamato and Sanji constantly talk about trying to find ways to trade bodies and stuff.

When Sanji's older, around 14, she offers her freedom and her greatest treasures in exchange for Yamato's. Kaido grins and agrees, unyielding to Yamato's arguments as cuffs are placed on Sanji and his are taken off. Later Yamato chastises her as King frowns at his daughter. She holds her ground and shows no regret, she is in a place where she and her father are safe from being captured by those that would harm them.

When Ace shows up and fights Yamato and Sanji watches with Otama, big smiles on their faces as Sanji feeds them. When Yamato produces Ace's vivre card and tears a corner off the paper and says it will reunite them one day.

"It will reunite us." Sanji says as she snatched the card from Yamato.

"I can't leave you here!" Yamato argues.

"People who come to Wano don't leave, Yamato. I am safe here. Enjoy the world." Sanji smiles sweetly at her old brother.

"I promise, when I'm stronger, my crew as well, we will come back for you!" Ace bows and rises with a promise. Yamato is staring at Sanji with fear and joy and gratefulness as he hugs his younger sister and promises to come back. Sanji and Otama wave them off as they leave. Later Sanji watches Ace's vivre card burning on the dock one morning, tears streaming down her face because she doesn't know what's happening as it vanishes to ash and she collapses to her knees sobbing. King finds her, hyperventilating and her eyes wide at him, the blue and red orbs glassy with tears as he takes her back to their quarters.

Sanji accepts her place and hates Queen because he knows what she is, and what her father is and King is more often than not about to kill the man. Many new people join the beast pirates. Time passes and King leaves to defend Wano from a fellow emperor of the sea it sounds so Sanji takes to the sky and finds Otama's village which has...visitors. Including a familiar hat and head of white hair. Sanji always visits with fruit and such for Otama and her family so she lands with a powerful thud on the ground. Otama, in Ace's - he's supposed to be dead - arms and Yamato smiling widely with a completely different crew from last time. Yamato rushes and hugs his little sister as Ace and Otama cheer at the sight of her. Everyone else is ready to fight however. Sanji is unamused however, hand on her hip as she glares at Ace and Yamato specifically, noting the absolutely massive scar on Ace's chest.

"You died." Sanji glares at Ace.

"Just for a little bit, I got my fruit back." Ace laughs. "Yamato was okay!"

"How would I know that? I only had a piece of your vivre card. I can't leave Wano to find out!" Sanji snaps at them and they both look sheepish. "Find me when you decide to fight Kaido. I will help."

"Wait, Sanji, you should stay!" Yamato calls as Sanji drops the bag of fruit and flies off to the capital, ignoring the yells from everyone below. Yamato is left to explain Sanji is basically his little sister and that's partly why Germa teamed up with Big Mom, they want Sanji and Yamato won't let them take her, it just happened to fall in line with Law's plan. Yamato explains Sanji and King are Lunarians and Wano, despite being under Kaido's control, is safe for them.

So when the raid of Onigashima is happening Sanji helps Luffy and everyone and with Kaido dead and Wano being free she feels at peace. The cuffs won't take her hands anymore and all of Wano may eat so she spends her time feeding literally everyone. All of them. Otama is brought to the capital by Ace and Yamato and she's cheering for Sanji's freedom and the food.

"What do you mean Sanji's freedom?" Nami asks the little girl.

"Sanji's bracelets from before, they would have taken her hands if she tried to leave Wano or was away from the capital from too long." Otama explains. "She's the best cook in Wano! So it was always special when she could come visit and bring us food when she could! Or her father would in her stead sometimes."

"Oh, the leather guy?" Luffy asks.

"Yeah!" Otama cheers as Sanji laughs and holds her.

"Well, now that you're free you're going to be my cook, right?" Luffy asks her. Sanji frowns at him.

"I...who would stay and protect Wano? I know Momonosuke and Hiyori are capable leaders but there is much to be done in Wano." Sanji asks.

"Your father would. Wano is his home as much as anyone else's." Yamato nods. "Travel with us Sanji! I've found a person to fix our bodies like we wanted when we were children!" Yamato commands happily. Sanji is blinking at him because yes, her brother has changed but so has she and she is unsure if her father would even take care of Wano after what had happened with the raid and everything.

He does of course, he makes his apologies to Momonosuke and Hiyori and vows to protect Wano like he had under Kaido. He does in fact basically kick Sanji out of Wano like Zeff kicked Sanji off the Baratie. She's staring at her new crew, in an iris purple kimono with her wings out and sighs and heads to the galley.

#black leg sanji #portgas d ace #vinsmoke sanji #answers #otama #yamato one piece #yamato #one piece otama #lunarian!sanji #king the wildfire #king one piece #fem sanji #fem!sanji #transfem sanji #transmasc yamato

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lustlovehart · 11 hours

Text

Bitten Hope

A/n: loosely inspired by @merakiui ‘s DRU Jade and Death Row Floyd, not exact though, but I really liked her writing on their serial killer counterparts and took inspo!!

Pairing: Serial Killer! Jade Leech x Reader x Serial Killer! Floyd Leech

Summary:

Warnings: Heavy Yandere [mdni] , Blood, Biting, Cuffing, Kidnapping, Violence, Dub-con kissing (not on mouth), aged 18+, Imprisonment

You’re stood on the other side of the one-way-looking glass. You can see them, but they can’t return that gaze. The two of them aren't eerily silent. No… they’re laughing and conversing as if this was just a regular brotherly reunion. To them, it might just be that, two brothers who are finally talking to one another after a year of only speaking through calls.

“Seems you’re still the same, Floyd”

“Well duhh, I don’t have that time you do to plan them out, I jus’ wanna get it over with”

“Perhaps that’s why you were caught much earlier than me.”

“Well you got jailed too so that doesn't change anythin’” Floyd leans back in the chair, his head craning up to look at the bright buzzing lights of the room.

“Ya think they’re gonna bring Shrimpy in?“

To this statement, the other twin looks at him, curiosity filled in those mismatched eyes.

“My, are you saying [name] is here?“

“Oh right, I didn’t tell ya cuz it woulda’ been lame if you knew,“ his head jumps back into place, a bubbly smile replacing his previously disinterested expression, “Yep! Shrimpy’s here, ain’t that nice~“

On the other side of the glass, you’re left balling your fist into itself.

How… How could they—!

A steady hand on your shoulder breaks your trance, the familiar sight of bright red somewhat comforting the tension in your joints.

“They were off-putting in our school years but, no one would’ve known how it was gonna turn out this way.” You place your hand above his, offering a smile to him to show your body easing itself.

“Yo Jade.”

“Yes?” Once again, Floyd’s mood changes, shifting from cheerful to… scary. The same aura can be felt from Jade but to a more concealed degree.

“I wanna break the glass.” You and Riddle's head turn immediately at the man’s suggestion.

“Pray tell how would you do that?” he tilts his head and strikes his signature close-eyed smile at his twin “And why do you wanna do that?”

“Dunno, wait till these cuffs come off.” His hands lift as the sound of clanging chains resonate through the empty room, his brother only smiling as he looks down at his own. “And I don’t like the vibe I got on the other side.”

You quickly move out of Riddles range, his hand grasping for where your shoulder previously was.

“Wha— You’re going in alre—?! [Name]—” You don’t reply, the sound of the door swinging open and shutting filling the silence of the space.

“Oh my. You should be more careful, any stronger and we could’ve broken free from these.” You sit on the other side of the steel table, crossing your legs as you lean into the cold metal.

Floyd’s been on death row for a month now, but he hasn’t given any leads. And Jade… he just got here. Maybe if the both of them are together we can…

“When. You can tell me.”

“When are we gonna marry Shrimpy? As soon as we get out—“

“No. When did you start? Killing. When did you start being murderers.” Jade lays his hands on the table, his biceps and forearms visibly buff as well as veiny.

“When do you think?”

“ Are you avoiding the question?”

“No, of course not, I’m just simply asking if you know—“ Floyd’s upper half quickly flops onto the surface, a loud sigh interrupting you and Jade.

“Since the last year of school, now can we talk about Shrimpy ‘stead, talkin bout us is boring”

“Floyd…” Jade's lips are pursed in a line, he expected his brother's outburst but he hoped it would come later compared to sooner.

“Whaat, the faces people made when I strangled them aren’t fun to think about anymore,” his body stays flopped, only turning his head as his smile is aimed towards you. “So shrimpy, yah still single right~? Savin marriage for us yeah?”

“You… I am not!”

“But you’re still available? I see.” Their flirtatious comments only serve as a way to piss you off even more.

“You two… I’m not going to marry serial killers…!”

“Then do not think of us as killers, think of us as your lovers.”

“I will not…! Ugh… just be quiet and answer me.” They don’t reply only giving you the smiles they would flash at you when school was still happening. I can’t be obvious with my questioning—

“About 250.”

“Jade, what are you talking about…?”

“You were about to ask us how many victims we’ve had yes?”

…

…What? What? We only linked 8 of those murders to Jade how could he possibly—

“Floyd, what about you?” Floyd looks up at the sky, his face almost cartoony as he ponders about the answer as if he’s on TV.

“Uhhh, dunno. I didn’t count. Was a big number too though.

… How did these two even—

…

“ Where are these people now? How did you do it to them?”

“Shrimpy wants to know real bad huh’. Okay, I’ll tell yah.“ you didn’t think his grin could grow any bigger but it does, somehow. “but yah gotta lean in close.”

Ignoring the obvious risk of getting too near, if you do this… you have the opportunity to finally know what’s happened to all these people. All those missing person cases… you can find out just how many of them were the faults of these two.

You look back at the glass for a moment. Knowing that Riddle is on the other side eases your tension, albeit only a little. Well…

You hope he’s on the other side.

Your body slowly leans towards him, each second making you wanna back out, but pushing through it despite that gnawing feeling.

Floyd’s smile seems to be the biggest it's ever been. His face comes closer to your own, his voice low as the whisper that leaves his lips sends chills throughout your body.

“Ya ready?”

It happens too fast. He’s swift with the movement, before you can fully lean back to avoid it, you can feel it. His lips are felt on your cheek before the tender texture is replaced with sharp edges that dig into the nape of your neck. Your fingers lock into his hair, immediately pulling yourself free from his Jaws.

The chair you originally sat on is knocked back onto the floor. The clattering sound of the seat resonated through the walls.

“Awwww shrimpy looks cute with red all over!” He flashes his teeth, once white canines, are now painted in red. The sight makes you freak out, both of your hands flying up to the wound in your neck, putting immediate pressure on the bite.

He didn’t hit anything vital, only deep enough to bleed me… but if I don’t get this wrapped up it might get infected.

You don’t spare them any more words, immediately walking to the door and gripping the handle. You swing it down pulling the exit inwards.

…

It won’t open.

It won’t…

“My I do wonder where that other officer went…” Your head stays locked on the handle, not even daring to turn back to face them.

“Goldfish s’out already? I wanted him to see you in red, ain’t that his favorite color?”

“How did you…?”

“Tarts, they do smell incredibly sweet, don’t they? Though, I do prefer eating their consumers instead.” It’s uncanny. Jade is putting on that… that smile…! He’s spotless, unlike his brother, the brother that’s exuding such a joyful aura with blood splattered on his mouth… The brother doesn’t seem bothered at all by the iron liquid that is absorbed in his jumpsuit.

“So that’s how… That’s how you covered up the rest of your victims…”

“Yes. Now do you understand self-control as well?” His eyes slowly trail down to your hands as he speaks, his tongue quickly wiping his lips before retreating inside. “It takes a lot of restraint to not take a bite out of such a lovely meal. I’m quite jealous of Floyd.”

“You wanna…?”

“Eat you? Oh no, not anymore. But, just a little nibble doesn’t hurt any—“

Clang!!

Your focus is caught by the sudden explosion of sound. Your eyes quickly shift to the interruption.

“So that’s how you gotta do it. It ain’t that much Jade, you jus’ pull up real hard.”

…

Floyd is out.

“It was that simple? Then let’s be quick.” Jade follows his brother's instructions, the same clanging sound ringing in the space. “It’s much more comfortable not having our hands chained to that cold metal table. It seems I even have bruises on my wrist from such capture.” He’s not lying, his wrists are littered with purple bruises, but you bet he was the one who caused those himself, not the cuffs.

“Look look!” the two of them circle the table, each step they take more menacing than the last. “Jades got a booboo on him, you gonna kiss it all nice and better right~“

Jade plays along seamlessly, wiping away tears that aren’t there at all. “Yes… It hurts a lot, it would feel much better if someone made it all better.“

“you…! I’m not going to-!“

“Jades hurt. You gonna fix him or what?“ His voice is deep, it’s not playful anymore, and his face is practically inches from your own, it’s horrifying... If you keep rejecting them you… You don’t wanna guess what’ll happen.

Riddle… Deuce… Why isn’t anybody coming?! Even if Riddle left for a moment he should be back, even then someone would’ve checked up on us…! Where… where…?!

“Won’t you heal me, nurse?“

This was so stupid! I should’ve come in with Riddle, or told him to come in with me! With how quickly I rushed in I didn't bring any of my weapons I’m…!

Your knees give out beneath you, falling onto the floor while the twins followed you down. Your fingers reach towards Jade, pulling his limb close to your mouth. The two of them smile at you, watching carefully each movement with an overabundance of joy.

Your lips make contact with the skin of his wrist. You don’t focus on the texture of his hand, only putting all your attention on this task.

“It still hurts dear, I would like more.“

This is humiliating.

“Shrimpy’s cute kissin’ you like that, I wanna take another bite.“

You keep going with Jade, placing more kisses on that one wrist before transferring to the next one.

Someone… Anyone please…!

Floyd leans into the side of your neck, the side completely clean and, un-marked. His mouth opened and his hot breath coated the skin of your side. You don’t stop your assault on Jade's hands, only acting as if Floyd isn’t readying himself to bite you again.

I’m gonna die. These two are gonna kill me.

To your right, wind blows next to you, the brighter light of the hallways illuminating into the room.

Someone… Someone came…! I’m free…!

“Rid–!... dle…?“

“You two… You couldn’t wait any longer than 20 minutes could you?!“

A man wearing a black hoodie and surgical mask walks in, the baseball cap and sunglasses covering any distinguishing traits he could possess.

“Ah, seems we forgot. Forgive us Azul.“

“It's not our fault you took so long, it wasn’t fun waitin’, we just wanted to mess with Shrimpy for a bit, s’not fair you got to play while we were locked in here.“

No… No…!

It’s been years since you’ve seen the con man. His looks have changed, but, he’s still the same it seems.

Hopefully… he doesn’t work out. Distantly, you can remember a point in time when you had wrestled Azul during your school years, albeit it was more of a surprise attack than an actual fight. You won against him.

Against the twins, even in NRC they had insane strength, so directly fighting them would’ve been a death wish, but with Azul, you might have a chance.

You pull all your leftover strength into your calves, pushing yourself up from the space between Floyd and Jade, ready to throw yourself at the man.

Before you even have a chance you’re pulled back down as a needle is pointed at your face. Jade's hand is tightly wrapped around your throat as Floyd’s arms squeeze around your waist.

“It’s rude to leave in the middle of a ‘party’ Is that not what you said to us back then?”

“You guys are leaving? Why?! A… special meeting? But I made all of you presents…! Look, I spent so much time making little eels and even an octopus…! Don’t go yet—! Oh, you’re not…? Great!”

“Where… Where’s Riddle…? Deuce…? Please I need to know—”

“They’re alive. Just asleep.” Azuls eyes look to the side, a little red blob reflected on his lenses when he turns.

“Really…? Good good…”

“But only if you behave.” His leather shoes take a few steps forward before kneeling down, his eyes scanning your body. Mostly unharmed, besides the vicious bite Floyd left on you. “Floyd did you really—” his eyes pinch together before his finger massages the nose of his bridge, the most exhausted exhale leaving his mouth at the sight,” It's… whatever, unless you two wanna stay on death row we have to go now.”

My best choice is to let them go, I'm unarmed and no one else is coming so… I’ll just use the building's cameras to figure out what they plan to do next.

“You guys can leave, no ones… no one’s going to stop you—” your body is lifted into the air, your stomach having the sharp pain of a shoulder blade driving into it.”w-wait stop…!” your legs kick and flail all around, but the hold Floyd has on your body doesn’t falter for a second.

Before you can lift your arms to hit him from behind, Jade locks them together using a spare pair of handcuffs he stole off Riddle’s unconscious body. His finger plays with the chain between the cuffs as a smirk plays on his lips at your struggle.

“I wouldn’t advise it.” His finger makes your hands move up and down before hooking the underside with his index. He doesn’t let up, successfully locking your hand from further use.

“We have 10 minutes to drive out of here, you two are lucky this place is on the edge of town.”

No… Please…!

Before you leave the room, your eyes take a glance at Riddle's body. It’s only a slight bit of movement, but you can see him stir up, his head turning to face the doorway.

He can’t move. It’s over.

The last thing you see before being swept away is the bright red of his pupils widening at the sight of you bitten and taken.

“[Name]… Stop… Don’t take…!”

A quick glance is all it takes before his eyes shut close again, the last thing his vision pieces together being the sight of your form carried away from view. The tall silhouettes of Jade and Floyd shrouding in shadows as they leave through the doors, the hooded figure waving his hand before following behind. The trail of officers littered behind them is a sad sight.

As they leave, their disappearance will leave a stir in their community, all that’s left being the view of their successful escape.

“[Name] [Last], missing, please call 911 if any leads.”

———

This is leaning towards heavier dark tones than what I usually write, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway <3

#serial killer! Jade #serial killer! Floyd #twst x Reader #yandere twst #yan twst #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #yandere Jade leech #yandere floyd leech #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x Reader

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aylacavebear · 12 hours

Text

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 1

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 5393

Warnings: Angst, Past Trauma.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers. Not sure when this one will be up and available to read yet. Just getting the chapter list started for it.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 1

You grew up hearing about soulmates, but since you were raised by your Aunt Ellen, it was something you weren’t sure was even true. She’d shown you the mark that had shown up on her hip, your uncle’s name, when she’d turned sixteen. Soulmates clearly were a thing, but you were skeptical, even as a child.

“Hey, you gonna take care of the customers or just stand there daydreamin?” Ellen asked you.

“Sorry,” you quickly apologized, tending to the men at the bar.

How did I end up working here, of all places?

Your mind constantly drifted these days, and it started a month ago. Your twenty-fifth birthday was only three months away. Jo continually teased you when she found you off in your head during work hours. Then there was your Aunt Ellen, who was getting more worried about you as the days passed.

The music from the jukebox sounded far away, almost muffled as you absentmindedly took care of the tasks of cleaning tables, the bar, restocking bottles, and filling drinks. Guys would flirt with you, but you’d only give them that fake smile and move on.

It was the birthday you’d been waiting for, even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it to anyone. You were turning sixteen, and you’d finally see the name of your soulmate. Thanks to your aunt, you had gotten your hopes up.

But the day came and went, and nothing appeared. You had checked everywhere, even behind your ears. There was nothing. It took months to pull out of that depression, especially when those close to you asked about it. You also felt like some sort of freak. In all the research you’d done, you couldn’t find anything about not getting the mark when you turned sixteen.

“Geeze, Y/N. You’re really out of it today. What’s wrong, sweetie?” Ellen asked you, pulling you from your memories.

“Sorry. My mind seems to have a mind of its own today,” you sighed, glancing around the bar for a moment.

“You still bummed about the soulmate thing?” she asked you sincerely, in the way she did when she was gently trying to get you to talk.

You just shrugged your shoulders before taking off your apron, “I have to go help Bobby at the garage again.”

“Is it that time already?” Ellen asked, glancing at the clock, then sighed. “Alright. Tell the old grump I said hi, and don’t let him work you too hard.” That made you chuckle, “He never does, and I’ll let him know.”

Again, your mind drifted as you drove down the semi-busy streets to Bobby’s garage. He and your Aunt had been friends for a long time, so he was practically family, as was his wife, Jodi. Growing up, you’d spent half your time in the garage, helping Bobby fix cars.

Sioux Falls wasn’t a big town, but wasn’t tiny either. You knew most of the people who lived there, and they knew you. It was more like more of them knew of you, the girl with no soulmate. You sighed as you drove your 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400, a gift from Bobby you had to fix up, down the lonely road leading to his garage.

“Got something for ya, kid, but you gotta fix her up,” Bobby told you when you showed up for your shift that hot summer afternoon.

“I told you. You don’t have to get me a present this year,” you groaned.

A year ago, you began hating your birthdays, and you didn’t want to celebrate this one. You begrudgingly followed him to his garage, then to the side of it, where you noticed the tarp over something.

Bobby walked over and pulled the tarp off, revealing the shell of a 71’ Pontiac Firebird Formula 400. You had fallen in love with muscle cars as a kid, watching The Dukes of Hazzard. Your jaw hit the floor as you ran over to her like a kid on Christmas.

He was smiling from ear to ear as he watched you look over everything, “She’s all yours, but you gotta do the work. You can’t let any other mechanic touch her. I’ll answer any questions, but I ain’t helpin' either.”

“Are you serious, Uncle Bobby?” you asked excitedly, popping the hood of the beat-up frame.

A small smile crossed your expression with that memory as you pulled into the driveway of Bobby’s garage and parked in the back. It seemed like so long ago, but it was one of your fondest memories that had made your birthday not so bad.

“I’m here,” you hollered, heading over to the car you’d been working on for almost a week at this point.

“How was the bar?” he asked, joining you in the garage.

“I was a space cadet, and Aunt Ellen is worried about me,” you replied, sliding back under the car to finish it up.

“You’re not a space cadet. I just think you can’t focus around all those people anymore. Come work at the garage, full-time,” he told you, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms.

“I’ll think about it,” you answered, tightening down a few more bolts.

“Besides, Jodi misses you being around more often,” Bobby added in an attempt to persuade your decision.

“I miss her too. Oh! Ellen said hi. I don’t know why she doesn’t text you more often,” you replied, sliding out from under the car, looking for yet another tool for yet another size bolt.

When you were in the garage, you always seemed to be able to focus. You knew Bobby had a point, and you’d been considering it for almost a month, but you weren’t about to tell him that. You wanted to let him think it was his idea.

Yeah, your mind drifted, but it was nothing like at the bar. Here, they were little snippets of memories: kids teasing you in high school, adults looking at you like you had two heads, and then there had been attempts to find a job but getting turned down everywhere due to not having the name of your soulmate on your body somewhere.

By the time your shift ended, you had the car completely finished. Looking down at the car, you stood there, covered with blotches of grease but beaming with pride.

“I’ll let the owner know she’s ready,” Bobby smiled, now standing next to you. “Think about it, though, okay?”

“I will,” you replied, giving him a hug before you headed home for the night since you’d already cleaned up the tools you’d used.

You lived in a cute little house not far from Bobby’s garage. It was the only thing that you had from your parents, along with a handful of pictures. You’d lost both of them to a car crash when you were only two, having no real memories of them.

Since you were two when you had lost them, you never asked Jodi what had happened or if anyone else was involved. You honestly didn’t want to know.

Dropping the things from your pockets on the table, you locked your door and headed to the bathroom. Your thoughts drifted again as you did your typical night routine.

“I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time finding work, sweetie. You can’t work here till you’re at least eighteen. I can’t break that law for you,” Ellen sighed.

You crossed your arms and went back outside to your car. You knew why no one in town would hire you, and it was a stupid reason. However, being a teenager still, you were all hormones and now needed to go blow off some steam.

You peeled out of the parking lot and down the road to your parent's place, which would be yours in less than a year. The drive was short due to the speed you’d chosen to go, and a cloud of dust rolled over your car when you parked out back of the house.

Between the punching bag, the target practice, and throwing your knives till your arm was sore, you had finally calmed down some. You made a call to Ellen and told her you were going to sleep at your ‘almost’ house. She didn’t like it but didn’t argue either.

You cried yourself to sleep that night, curled up in the soft bed that would eventually be your permanent room as the sun set slowly. The thought of being alone for the rest of your life hurt more than you’d ever tell anyone.

Dinner that night consisted of leftovers, and you were thankful you’d prepared them ahead of time when the week began—baked chicken, potatoes, and gravy. You were far too out of it to even worry about a vegetable.

I’ll tell Ellen tomorrow.

Finally deciding to quit working at the bar as you cleaned up dinner and headed to bed, almost feeling as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Slipping under the covers and getting comfortable, you also felt more relaxed than usual.

—----

Two hours into your shift, and Ellen had already had to pull you out of your head a dozen times. It was Saturday, so even the morning hours were busy today. You were just thankful that you never had to cook, knowing you would have ended up burning most of the food.

“Can you at least pay attention to the ones at the bar? Jo can handle the floor today,” Ellen told you, again sounding worried.

“I’ll try,” you sighed, glancing at the men sitting there.

There was no point in apologizing again. As you began taking care of the drinks, the bell over the door dinged, signifying yet another customer. Typically, you wouldn’t have even looked up, but something pulled at you.

It was three men, none of whom you recognized, and two of them looked to be around your age, with the third being older. All three of them sat at the bar, so you went over to get them drinks.

“What’s your poison?” you asked, putting on that fake work smile and not really looking at them.

“Three beers,” the older of the three said, “And please tell Ellen to come over.”

You were slightly confused but agreed. You set their beers down in front of them, then went to find Ellen in the back. “Hey, there’s a guy out here that asked for you.”

“Did you get his name?” she asked as she dried her hands.

“No. He didn’t say. He’s with two other guys who are younger, though, if that helps?” you replied as you followed her out of the back room.

You stopped halfway down the bar, but you were still behind it, as she was now on the other side, making her way to the three of them. The older man stood, both he and Ellen smiling as they embraced in a hug, which confused you. You managed to keep up with the drinks for those at the bar but couldn’t hear what the four of them were talking about.

“Y/N, come down here and get these boys a refill,” Ellen hollered, motioning for you to go over to them.

Rolling your eyes, you did as she asked, putting on that fake smile again, “Here ya go.”

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” one of the two younger ones said to you with what looked to be a flirtatious smirk.

“Don’t be flirting with my niece, Dean. She’s still what you’d consider innocent,” Ellen scolded the one who had just spoken to you, but to you, it sounded more like a teasing sort of joking around, which made you slightly curious. “Thanks. Like I need some stranger to know that sort of thing,” you grumbled.

“Sweetie, these are the Winchesters. They’re practically family. You met them when you were little,” Ellen replied, smiling happily.

For a moment, you were somewhat dumbfounded as to what to even say. You couldn’t seem to remember meeting the three of them. Ellen introduced you to John Winchester, the father of Dean and Sam, who were four years apart in age.

“I hate to do it, Aunt Ellen, but, I need to talk to you about something before I leave in ten,” you finally told her.

“What’s up?” she asked, looking quite puzzled.

“I need to take some time off for a while,” you mumbled, feeling bad.

“Take all the time you need, sweetie. I know things have been rough for you lately,” she said softly, then she gave you a hug. “And tell that old fart to stop by sometime.”

“Thanks for understanding, and I will,” you replied, relieved as you hugged her back. Then you looked over at the Winchesters, “It was nice to have at least met the three of you since I don’t remember meeting you before now. Not sure when I’ll see you again, though.”

“How come?” John asked, seeming fairly curious.

“I’m going to be working my other job full-time for a while. It’s the love of my life, honestly,” you replied with a smile, giving John your full attention.

“What’s that, kid?” he asked, which made you wonder if perhaps he knew Bobby since Bobby called you that all the time.

“I fix cars. Hate to do it, but I have to run,” you replied quickly, heading for the door and out to your Baby. However, your heart about stopped when you saw the black 67’ Chevy Impala parked next to your Firebird.

“Damn…” you breathed out in quiet shock and awe.

Shit! I’m gonna be late.

With that thought, you shook your head, pulled your gaze from the car, and drove to Bobby’s garage for your shift. It indeed was a beautiful car, and you knew that no one in town drove one of those. Through deductive reasoning, you figured it had to belong to the Winchesters. You just weren’t sure which one. Whichever one it was, though, they loved that car, and you knew it with how well it had been taken care of.

The leaves on the trees were changing colors already, and the light breeze was finally cooler than the summer heat that you hated. However, you didn’t notice much today; you were too excited to give Bobby the news.

You knew the smile you couldn’t hide would give it away, but you stepped into his little office anyway. You didn’t even have time to say anything before he did.

Bobby was smiling from ear to ear when he looked up at you, “Nice to know Ellen didn’t give you a hard time about being here full time. You can whip those boys on the morning shift into shape for me.”

“Like they’d listen to me,” you chuckled but rolled your eyes.

“They better, since you’re gonna be their boss from here on out,” he told you seriously.

“Wait? What?” you asked, in complete surprise.

“Kid, you know your shit, and you’re good at your job. You’re better at your job than the four boys I got workin here already. I’d rather just have you than all of them 'cause I know you’d get the job done like it should be, and you never cut corners,” he explained, being completely serious.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you stammered, still shocked.

“Just say thanks and be here at six tomorrow morning. Take the afternoon off and rest up,” he smiled.

You went over and wrapped him up in a hug. He knew the only reason you worked in the garage late was to avoid the boys he had working there in the morning. You had tried doing the dating thing after your sixteenth birthday, but realized quickly that no boy wanted anything to do with you.

That night, you were still smiling, even if you were apprehensive about being someone’s boss, let alone four grown men. People in the town were mostly courteous toward you but treated you like a plague of some sort since your soulmate's name never appeared on your body.

—-------

As you got ready that morning, you attempted to calm your nerves, but it didn’t work. You gave yourself mental pep talks all morning and even on the drive, but that wasn’t helping either. Your heart was still racing as you parked out back like you usually did.

Bobby was the only one at the garage for the moment, and he even told you to breathe more than once. He explained that you’d still be working on cars, but now you’d also be keeping an eye on the boys he had working there and telling them when to take their breaks. It seemed simple enough.

Benny, Cas, Garth, and Jack were decent guys and were all friends. They’d spend time at the bar in the evenings when you were at the garage. It was how you had avoided a lot of people in the town since they really wanted nothing to do with you. The part you were worried about was interacting with them, as their boss. Bobby was standing next to you as the four of them arrived and mingled into the garage.

“Boys, meet your new boss,” Bobby said sternly, and all four of them looked up at you.

You were sure your heartbeat could be heard throughout the room as you froze under their gaze. The only one who didn’t look at you like you were a waste of space or something to avoid was Garth, and you made a mental note of that.

Something in you snapped with how they looked at you, and you laid into them before Bobby could comment on their expressions. “Look, I know that at least three of you would rather not work with me. I’m not a bitch, but I will be if I have to be. You don’t like this, there’s the door,” you told them sternly, putting your hands on your hips.

“Seriously?” Benny asked, annoyed. His Cajun accent was thick, and if it weren’t for his attitude, you probably could have listened to the man talk all day.

“Yes, Benny. She’s got the right to fire you if need be. I suggest you don’t give her a reason,” Bobby replied, crossing his arms, almost daring the man to challenge his decision.

Garth stepped forward, though, with that kind smile he always had, “I, for one, am looking forward to working with you, Y/N. You seem like a nice person, fair.”

Your expression instantly softened, and you smiled at him. “Thanks, Garth.”

“Alright, get to work,” Bobby told all of you before he headed into his office to keep an eye on things.

You turned from the four of them and headed toward the newest of the cars that had been brought in the day before. Your nerves were shot, but you were proud of yourself for standing up to the three of them. Pausing for a brief moment as you looked down at the car, you decided on something.

I’m gonna just be me. If they don’t like it, they can quit.

You turned on the radio to the classic rock station, then got to work on the car. Benny raised an eyebrow and just watched you silently before he got to work with the other three. It was odd for you with the other four working there, too. It was something you weren’t used to, but you found yourself keeping an eye on them, even while you worked.

An hour into the shift, Cas had stopped working and sat on one of the barstools, sipping some water. You watched him out of the corner of your eye for a few minutes while still focusing on your current task. Five minutes later, he was back to work. You took mental note of it and focused on your task again.

Each of them did that, taking turns to sit for a few minutes, have water, and then return to work. It puzzled you, but you weren’t ready to ask them why they did it, at least not yet.

Just before nine, you heard it before you saw it. The beautiful purr of that Impala you had seen the night before. A smirk crossed your lips while you were unbolting the upper portion of the water pump for the current car in front of you.

The Impala stopped, and then she was silent. You could clearly hear three sets of footsteps heading into the garage. The four boys erupted with greetings to the Winchesters, more Dean than the other two. Even Bobby joined in.

So, they do know each other. Too bad the boys know them too. So much for maybe making a friend now.

You sighed and slid under the car, going for the bottom bolts now that the top ones were loose, completely ignoring the ruckus of greetings going on only about twenty feet away from you.

“Kid, you gonna come say hi?” you heard Bobby ask, and you realized he was standing next to you.

“I really wanted to get this finished, since the part finally came in, and this poor car has been sitting here for a week waiting,” you replied without moving out from under the car.

“Kid, don’t make me pull you outta there,” he told you a bit more sternly, and you knew he��d do it.

“Fine,” you grumbled, sliding out from under the car.

“So much for not running into you again, Sweetheart,” Dean smirked, which made you roll your eyes.

“Dean’s gonna be starting tomorrow morning. Dean, she’ll be your boss, so don’t try anything funny. She’s also practically my niece,” Bobby told him, far sterner than you’d heard him talk to anyone before, which only piqued your curiosity as to what their past entailed.

“I’ll behave, Bobby, I promise,” Dean told him, somewhat seriously.

You noticed a small twinkle in not only Dean’s eye, but also in Bobby’s. It was like there was something they both knew but weren’t saying, at least not in front of you.

“You better, boy. I got no problems telling your dad and making him fire you,” Bobby replied, glancing at John.

That was when it hit you. You’d seen the initials JW on several different pieces of paperwork and even a couple of packages that had been delivered to the garage. John was Bobby’s partner in the business, and Dean was supposed to inherit it when John passed or retired. You were a bit surprised, though, that you had the power to fire the boss's son or at least write him up if you had to.

John’s laughter filled the garage at Bobby’s statement, “If I have to get involved, you’ll be in far more trouble than just losing your job.” There was a joke in there, but you could also hear the hint of seriousness in his tone.

What do the three of them know but aren’t saying around me? This is so frustrating.

“I said I’d behave,” Dean grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning against the car closest to him while the boys gave him a hard time. But it was there, even if only a hint of it, a smirk, and you noticed.

That was when John and Bobby both turned toward you, and for some reason, it made you nervous. “We’re having a little get-together tonight at Harvelle’s, and you’re invited. Sam graduated and is getting a full ride for law school, and that calls for a celebration,” John told you with a far softer smile than you thought the man was capable of.

“Uh, sure, I guess,” you replied, completely unsure of the idea of being around people who really wanted nothing to do with you.

“Good. Then we’ll see you there around say, seven?” John replied.

“Okay,” you answered, not sure what else to say.

Due to your attention being on John and Bobby, you missed the silent conversations going on between Dean, Sam, and the four grease monkeys on the far side of the garage. Dean was mostly watching you while Benny and Cas were telling him things, about you. Sam was also watching you, but his was more out of curiosity than anything else.

John and Bobby hung out in the office with the door closed for at least another hour. Dean and Sam were distracting the other four while they worked. You, well, you were changing out the water pump, ignoring all of them. It was what hurt the least.

While you were tightening down the bolts under the car, you noticed a pair of feet standing next to you.

“You really don’t remember us, do you?” he asked.

“Sorry. I really don’t,” you answered, focusing on the bolt that was being a pain to get to.

“Wow. Kinda surprised since we went to the same schools and grew up in the same town,” he chuckled quietly, and you realized it was Sam and not Dean. Sam had a softer voice, and he didn’t call you sweetheart.

“I’m really sorry. I was kind of a loner,” you told him and finally got the bolt tightened down.

Sliding out from under the car and looking up at him, you felt like an ant with how tall he was. You shook off the feeling, got to your feet, and bent over into the engine so you could finish bolting the water pump in place.

“I remember. I heard about what happened, or uh, I mean- what didn’t happen when you turned sixteen,” he told you with that softness you were thankful for.

You shrugged your shoulders briefly, “Doesn’t matter. At least Bobby let me work here. All I ask is that you aren’t being nice to me out of pity. I’d rather be ignored.”

“I don’t pity you. I actually wanted to tell you something I found out while I was at college. It’s rare, like it only happens to one in a billion people. A traumatic event before the age of five can leave a child too scared to get their soulmate’s name when they turn sixteen,” he explained.

You froze where you were. It was more than anything you’d been able to find, and for a moment, you wanted to hope. You quickly brushed it away, though, remembering how badly you’d felt the last time you got your hopes up.

“You gonna keep going or just leave me hanging like that?” you asked, a little sharper than you intended.

Sam took a deep breath, and you missed him glancing at his brother momentarily, “Well, what I read said that the other person still gets their soulmate’s name. The one that went through the trauma has to fully heal from it before they get their soulmate’s name.”

You rolled your eyes, “Kinda hard to heal from something I don’t remember.”

“I just wanted you to know that me and my brother don’t see you like others do, and we’d like to be your friend, if you want,” he replied, then walked away to leave you to your thoughts.

Great. I don’t even know what to do to heal that sort of thing. I don’t even remember my parents. And now, the boss’s kids want to be friends with me. No, that can’t go horribly wrong, can it? Plus, I have to go sit through a celebration with people I don’t remember and others who want nothing to do with me, even if Ellen, Bobby, and Jodi will be there.

You focused on the car but finished it quickly before the Winchesters were even ready to leave. After wiping off your hands, you closed the hood and put the tools away before driving the car out to the finished area so it could wait for its owner to pick it up. When you headed back inside, your eyes were only on the office door, which was still closed. You didn’t see Dean watching you again.

“Hey, Bobby. Cars finished. I didn’t see anything else out back. What do you want me to work on?” you asked, setting the keys on his desk so he could get the paperwork together.

“How about you give Dean the tour? Show him where everythings at?” John suggested with a smirk before Bobby could say a word. “I figured Benny would do that, since they seem like friends,” you replied, not wanting to interrupt the six of them.

“I’m sure he could, but he won’t. You’re their boss. Comes with the territory,” John told you.

“Yes, Sir,” you replied in a slight mumble, heading back out of the office, closing the door, and then leaning on it.

As you crossed your arms, you watched the six of them. They looked like they were enjoying whatever conversation was happening between them, with Dean laughing at something he must have found funny. With a deep sigh, you walked over to them, slipping your hands into your pockets.

There was instant silence the moment you got close to them, but you didn’t let the hurt show, “John said I should give you a tour and show you where everything is,” you explained to Dean, not really looking at him.

Dean glanced at the office door then back down at you, “If that’s what my dad said, then lead the way, Sweetheart.”

Why does he have to keep calling me that? It’s not like he knows me. Maybe he calls all girls that, and it’s just his thing or something like that.

“Yeah, not like you been in here a day of your life,” Benny teased him, which made you look up at Benny, confused. “Huh?” was the only word you could manage.

“Oh yeah, Dean’s been working in here since he was knee-high to a grasshopper,” Cas chuckled, teasing Dean.

Your gaze went from each of them and then to Dean, tilting your head in a fair amount of confusion. Dean rubbed the back of his neck nervously and looked away from you.

“What’s wrong, Dean? Worried she’ll figure it out?” Benny stated.

“Figure what out?” you asked as Dean glared at Benny.

“Nothing,” Dean snapped, still glaring at Benny.

So, Dean’s got some secret he doesn’t want me to know about.

“Do you still want that tour I’m supposed to give you?” you asked with a sigh, looking more at the floor than anywhere else.

“Dean, you were here less than a month ago. Did you really forget where everything is already?” Cas teasingly asked him.

You’d had enough, so headed out of the garage, tossing your hands up and hollering, “Never mind,” just before making it outside. Once you made it to your car, you texted Bobby and told him you were heading home since there weren’t any more cars to work on at the moment.

The six of them watched as you drove past the garage entrance and then down the driveway. You missed Dean punching Cas in the jaw. You missed John and Bobby going off on Benny and Cas. You also missed Dean going off on Benny. You were too pissed and hurt to even look back.

Bobby didn’t text you back, but you knew if he had an issue or needed you at the garage, he would have said so. The moment you got home, you went straight for the punching bag, needing to get the anger out of your system so you could shower.

How am I gonna get out of tonight? Can I even get out of tonight? Probably not. I’ll have to show up, at least. I can always leave early, though, right?

You groaned at the thought of having to be around people, knowing full well that getting out of it, even early, was going to be difficult. At least you weren’t required to dress up any, so you went for a pair of black jeans, a dark blue shirt, and your favorite deep green flannel pulled over it. At the garage, you typically had your hair pulled back, but for tonight, you left it down.

Parking near the back of Harvelle’s Bar & Grill, you were just staring at the building, dreading going inside and having to “people,” as you called it. The sun had already set, and the darkness was allowing the glimmer of stars to be seen in the night sky, but you didn’t notice them, just the bar in front of you.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 2 - Coming soon

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