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angelfrombeneth · 2 months

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MESSY - M . RIDDLE

Mature and Possibly Triggering Content Ahead

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Summary: You and your bestfriend of 13 years have a bit of a spat, that turns into her being a shit friend. So you also return the favour.

Warnings: SMUT, Implied Cheating, Slight mention of violence, Your bestfriend is a shitty friend, You do something shitty, Dom!Mattheo, Sub!Reader, Not been proofread - expect slightly grammar errors.

A/N: Thought I'd switch it up with Theo and do a Mattheo short. This is just a random draft. It's not one of my best works but I wanted to put something out cuz it had been a while. I've been super busy w my studies so I haven't had time to finish my other fics or any asks. So please accept this for now 🫶

"Hey Erica!" You smiled as you skipped up to your friend. Erica had been your best friend for 13 years. Your mother's were best friends before your mum passed, you grew up together and stuck by eachother no matter what. Even when you both got sorted into two different houses; she got Slytherin and you got Hufflepuff. Despite all odds, you both at in 6th year still going strong.

Erica turned to look at you, her eyebrow quirked. "What?"

You stood before her, confused with her attitude. "I thought we could go hangout in the pavilion together?"

She turned to her group of Slytherin friends and snickered slightly, bidding them goodbye before looking at you. "Sure, Where's Cedric?" You looked at her weirdly while you both walked towards the pavilion.

"I'm not sure, why'd you ask?"

"No reason, just suprised your both always at eachothers hip, it's weird he's not"

"Your right.. I should ask him-"

"No!" She cut you off. "Its ok, ill ask him for you, maybe he won't tell you the real reason"

"Thanks Erica" You smiled. The pair of you sat in the pavilion and gossiped about many different things.

You spotted Pansy across the pavilion waving you over to her and her friends. "Hey, I'm going to see Pansy, ill see you later?" You stand.

"Her? You're friends with her" Erica scoffed, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Whats wrong with Pansy?"

"Everything, she's just a fucking whore. All those guys she's friends with she probably sleeps with them all she's a wh-"

"Erica stop it. I don't know what your deal is... Pansy is nice to me ok? Just drop it" You looked at her weirdly from her behaviour.

"Your right, I'm sorry. I'll go speak to Cedric now for you" She smiled before rushing off.

You shrugged it off and walked over to Pansy smiling.

"Y/N!" She cheered as you sat down next to her. "We were just talking about how cute you and Cedric are, 3 months now right?" Pansy smiled at you.

"Yeah, it's going great, im really happy actually"

"Thats so good, Although we always thought you'd end up with a Slytherin boy" Astoria snickered.

"Really? Who, I don't even really talk to many of the guys" You quirked.

"Probably Theo, he's the gentleman out of them all, the best choice other than my Blaise" Daphne smiled.

You smiled at her, Her and Blaise had been together since 2nd year. They were like the powerhouse couple of Hogwarts, perfect in every way.

"Pans, did you and Erica have an argument she seems to have a strong.. hatred for you" You looked to the girl beside you.

Pansy looked up at Daphne and Astoria and laughed slightly before taking your hand. "I never did anything to her, she's just jealous I'm friends with the guys. She keeps implying I'm 'fucking them all' but I'm literally gay" Pansy snickered.

"Thats literally what I thought, I thought everyone knew?"

"Everyone does, Erica is just fucking stupid" Tori scoffed, crossing her legs over eachother.

"Tori-" Daphne glared to her.

"Besides its because her and Mattheo have this thing or whatever, and me and him are close" She shrugged.

"Mattheo? As in Mattheo Riddle?" You raised your eyebrow.

"Yeah- Why?" They all looked at you weirdly.

"Isn't his dad like.. You-know-who?" You whispered.

They all laughed at you softly. Pansy patting you on the back.

"You're so sweet and innocent" Astoria cooed.

A loud bell chimed around the whole castle you all stood up.

"Fuck, I have potions" Astoria groaned.

"You'll live" Daphne laughed at her.

"See you around Y/N!" She smiled to you as you all parted ways.

You sighed as you walked into the castle.

Over the next few weeks you hung out more with Pansy, Daphne and Astoria. Everytime you'd hang out with Erica she'd ice you out or something. You also notice Cedric just get more and more bored with your presence which just didn't make you feel any better. You had wondered what Erica and Mattheo were considering she never once mentioned him to you. At all.

You sighed, as you stared down at your tea leaves, poking at them with your wand.

You felt a gush of wind beside you as someone sat in the always vacant seat.

"I know this seat isn't taken, so I will be sitting here" You heard. You looked up to see Mattheo, smiling down at you.

"I take notice when my favourite girls start hanging out with another person, which means you must be a goodie" He smiled at you. "Y/N, right?"

You nodded smiling. "I didn't realise you all were so close"

"We are like a second family, since our actual ones are pretty shitty" He snickered.

Over the following weeks you had grown close to all the Slytherins, hanging our with them all. Occasionally Cedric would come over but he wasn't that interested which just irked you. He had apologised for his lack of presence that made you feel a bit better.

You and Mattheo had become quite close, to him he was quite fond of you. Found you very cute. Erica didn't like your friendship with Mattheo all of a sudden and this was the brunt of most of your arguments. You always apologised then backed away from the group for a day or so, but it was just like a forever cycle.

You had discovered, Mattheo and Erica were dating but you were confused as to why she hadn't told you but you didn't want to take it to heart, there must've been a reason.

After class, you walked down the halls, students rushing quickly to make it to their next class, as you walked down towards the Hufflepuff entrance you noticed all the Slytherin boys all hanging in the kitchen.

"Feeding time at the zoo again?" You snickered. The boys all turned staring at you like deers caught in headlights. This wasn't the first time you'd come across them in the kitchen. You had grown close with the Slytherin boys recently, but you had grown to know them more for you sort exchanges everytime you see them feasting away.

"Fuck- Y/N you scared us. I thought you were a fucking teacher" Blaise sighed.

"Why are you guys always here on my free" You quirked your brow.

"We just wanna see you so bad!" Enzo whined as you chuckled.

"Where you off to in a rush anyway" Draco licked his finger from the pie covering it.

"M' meeting Cedric in the common room. I'll see you guys later" You smiled to them before walking a bit away from the kitchen and entering the Hufflepuff commonroom.

If you could go back to 2 minutes ago when you were laughing at the boys stuffing their face with pie. You would.

As you rounded the corner towards the opening of the commonroom to froze, hearing giggles and.. moaning? What freak would fuck in the common room, you scoffed. What you didn't expect was who. You decided to just ignore the sounds and quickly pass up to Cedrics dorm when you caught a glimpse of an oh so familiar green gem clawclip thrown across the floor.

"Erica?" You raised your eyebrow as you stared at the couch.

You watched as Erica sat up, disheaved hair and messy makeup before the other person sat up to. That person being... Cedric.

"Cedric- Erica what the fuck??" You shouted at them both.

"Y/N- He threw himself at me, I swear. We were just talming and-" She gasped, standing up and changing herself.

"What No??- It's not what it looks like- She"

"SHUT UP!" you screamed. "I'm not going to sit here and listen to your stupid excuses. You didn't slip and fall into her Cedric be fucking for real" You scoffed at him, storming up to him and slapping him across the face. Your voice cracked as you yelled and turned on your heels and ran from the common room.

"Y/N WAIT!-" Cedric yelled.

As you rounded the last bend the last thing you heard- "Wellthat was easy, see you later Cedric" Erica cackled.

You thought she was your friend, best friend forever. She was a fucking liar. A disgusting whorey liar. You sobbed as you ran from the commonroom towards the stairs. You ran past the kitchen, the slytherin boys noticing you running. You didn't stop, you had to go to Pansy. You knew she had a free and she was in her dorm. So you ran there.

Third POV:

"Was that Y/N?" Enzo poked his head out of the kitchen confused by your rushed nature.

"She was crying- I hope she's OK.." Theo hit his lip slightly nervous for you.

"She's fine, probably stubbed her toe or something" Draco snickered.

Mattheo and the boys decided to ignore the fact Y/N ran past crying and it probably wasn't any of your issues. That was until he noticed two people sneak past the kitchen.

"Who was that?" Enzo questioned.

"No clue" Mattheo shrugged.

Your POV:

The next few days you spend sobbing and skipping classes. Astoria, Pansy and Daphne took turns looking after you as you wailed in their arms. Not only had your friend relationship fucked up. He cheated on you and with your 'best friend'.

When you told the girls they were pissed. You practically had to talk Astoria out of certain violent consequences. They stayed with you and comforted you for ages. The first few days were crucial.

You had recieved owls from Erica, explanation in her own fucked up words how the situation wasn't at all what she thought it was and how it was just a huge misunderstanding. You couldn't help but scoff at her bullshit.

Three weeks had passed since everything you left Pansys after a few days and stayed boarded up in your room for an additional 2 weeks. No one came in and no one came out. The girls were concerned for you but understood you needed time.

News travelled that you and Cedric broke up but nothing about Erica being a home wrecker. When you finally left your pit after nearly 4 weeks you had seen significant changes. You were quite pale due to lack of sun and nutrients - you didn't look sick you just looked tired. People noticed and just felt.. bad for you. What really set you over the edge is in these 4 weeks not only had Erica homewrecked your relationship- she had clung to the people you had become to get comfortable with.

This was the second time Erica had done this to you. In 3rd Year you had started dated Adrian Pucey when she swooped in and was making out with him. She had told you he threw himself at her and she was so sorry she didn't mean to hurt you and you fucking believed her. Now this was just proof she was a bitch and she expected you to just forgive her which is what you'd do, but you had to come up with a plan.

You walked down towards the Slytherin common room, and up towards Erica's dorm. Erica only had one other dormmate but she was in the hospital wing currently due to a mishap in potions.

You knocked on the door and the door swung open to reveal Erica. A sickening smile spread across her lips as she let you in.

"Oh Y/N- I'm so glad your here. I need to explain everything to you" She wore a fake pout as she hugged you before pulling away.

She was rushing around her room fixing her hair and doing her makeup as she spoke to you. You sat on her bed.

"I was talking to Cedric, about what I said when he threatened me. He was saying about how he'd hurt you and how he'd do horrible things to you if I didn't sleep with him Y/N"

Really. Does she really think you'd believe this. You had to try your best not to laugh.

"Erica that is so horrible- I know you didn't mean to- You'd never do anything to hurt me" You smiled.

"Exactly!" She turned to look at you smiling. "He was a terrible boyfriend Y/N you can do so much better- Look stay here. I'll be back, I have to go see Mattheo in the hospital wing but I'll be back soon. Then we can have a girlie night" She smiled again. That fame smile was irking you.

"Of course" You smiled as she rushed out of the door leaving you. How stupid was she to think you'd believe her bullshit lies. You peered around the room, groaning. Why did she get to keep a boyfriend after all of this.

Speak of the devil, the door swung open to reveal Mattheo, leaning against the door frame as he quizzically looked at you.

"Y/N? Where'd Erica?" He asked.

"Mattheo? She said she went to the hospital wing for you-"

Mattheo rolled his eyes scoffing. "I came here to break up with that cheating slut and she's gone to cheat. How ironic" He laughed, venom lacing his tone. "I know your friends but seriously you can do b-"

"Actually we aren't friends" You cut him off. "I was here to listen to her bullshit excuses on why she fucked my boyfriend" You scoffed.

"Cedric too?" Mattheo scoffed. "I don't get it, I was actually a good boyfriend to her, for once I wasn't the asshole" He laughed mockingly.

Mattheo sat next to you on Erica's bed as the pair of you sighed. It was quite for a moment before you spoke.

"Maybe she needs a taste of her own medicine.." You peered to Mattheo, who was now smirking.

"A dark streak for a little hufflepuff like you? Do go on" He bit his lip as he stared down at you. Now you look at it, Mattheo was twice the size of you.

"Maybe we could.. you know" You looked down.

"I'm a changed man Y/N- but fuck, my old ways would always come back for you" He smirked, referring to his last two years of THE player and heartbreaker of Hogwarts.

Before you could reply you heard a soft chuckle before Mattheo's hands are instantly all over you. He kisses you softly but needingly. The way his lips move against yours as his hands grab at the plush of your thigh.

You could almost laugh at his neediness but it turned you on even more. You climbed onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him closer, needing more. Your tongues dancing upon eachother as you grinded down against his growing bulge. The softly moans he'd release into your mouth were enough to have you moaning.

You broke away shortly as the pair of you quickly stripped down to your underwear. You stood up, throwing your jumper and shirt off as you shimmied out of your skirt. Mattheo kicked off his trousers, throwing his jumper and shirt across the room just in time to catch you as he jumped onto him again. A light chuckle leaving his mouth as the pair of you sat pratically skin to skin.

"God you are so fucking hot" He smirked, biting his lip as you sat back down on his lap, as he sat at the end of the bed.

He watched as you, pulled your panties off, dropping them beside the end of the bed as you yanked at his boxers. Smirking as his cock sprung out and hit his stomach.

"So big, and you were all hers?" You smirked, pecking his lips softly as you pulled yourself closer, instantly sinking down on his length as you yelped at the size. His grip, harsh on you as his fingers dug into your hips,his eyes slightly rolling at the sensation.

"Fuck-" You sighed out as you wiggled down on him, reaching back to unclasp your bra and tossing it aside, before pulling him closer and smashing your lips onto his yet against as you grinded down against him.

You gasped, as he gripped your waist, thrusting up into you as he sat on the edge of the bed. "Dont be a bitch Y/N" He smirked against your mouth as your tongues tied to one another as your hands roamed all over. His hands reached to your ass, squeezing, gripping and slapping the flesh as much as he could as your hips buckled against his, his cock burying itself deeper inside of you.

"mm.. J-just like that" You sighed, reading your head against his shoulder as you rocked your hips back and forth against his, sighing at the sensation.

He couldn't handle it much longer as he threw you down against the bed, giving you time to get on all fours as he kicked off his boxers as he gripped your hips and began to piston into you. Your back arched as you gripped the sheets, your teeth sunk into the duvet as you whined into the cotton. You could practically hear his filthy smirk as you whined. His hands aggressively gripping at your love handles as he bounced against you, pulling you back harshly with each thrusted rebound. The way your skin slapped loudly against his as it collided. The way your ass, bounced against his thrusts sent him over the edge.

With each thrust, his hand would grasp at the flesh of your ass, squeezing it or slapping it as you whined down into the mattress. A filthy smirk spread across his face.

"Oh fuck!-" You gasped as you whined, eyes rolling back slightly as you gripped at the sheets.

"Good girl- Good fucking girl.. Taking it so well" He growled from behind. His voice just made you even wetter, the whole situation had your stomach in knots.

He continued on your ass as you gasped for air, his hand yanking at your hair, collecting it into a messy ponytail as he yanked you up and back against his chest. His free arm snaked around your waist, pushed down against your lower stomach, intensifying each thrust as you could feel the pressure of his arm. You whined out loudly, gasping at the sensation as he took the chance to let go of your hair and wrap a hand around your neck.

You gazed to the side to look at Mattheo, as he smirked, before kissing you roughly. His tongue instantly sliding into your mouth as you sighed into the kiss. Toying with his tongue as his cock made at home inside your walls. The way he thrusted in and out like he owned it had you on the edge.

You broke away momentary, gasping for air as he pulled away completely. The emptiness between your legs prominent as you whined, falling forward but catching yourself, moving to lay on your back against the bed, looking up at him.

"Miss me already" He laughed, sweat dripping down his body as he stared at you smirking, as he climbed ontop of you, kissing down your neck, sucking softly at the skin.

"Fuck- How can I not, when you look like that" You chuckled, running your hands up and down his naked body. You couldn't help but let your hand linger over his stomach, as your fingers dipped between the crevasses of his chiselled chest.

"You're bad, fucking your bestfriends boyfriend" He smirked, biting his lip as he hovered over the top of you, his hand pumping his cock as he stared down at you.

"She did it first, I'm just returning the favour" You smirked, pulling his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. You could feel Mattheo smirked against you as he lined up yet against to thrusts into you. His forehead against yours as he smirked down at you.

"You are so cute, shame it took this to see your dark side" He laughed as his thumb caressed your cheek softly, pecking your lips as he slowly slid back into you. You gasped, arching your back, as your chest pressed up against his as your body shook below him.

"God, I fucking love how you just melt at my fucking touch. So slutty" He laughed lowly in your ear, as he nibbled on the shell of it before biting at your shoulder and sucking on it as he began to thrust.

As he began the thrust at first they were soft, his lips peppering kisses all down your neck and collarbone as you whined softly under his touch. You watched as he licked the bruises that had formed across your skin as he smirked down at you. His smirk was sickening. Sickeningly sweet.

His cock sunk in and out of you like it was moulded for you. The way you whined and moaned into his ear had him harder than ever. He was obsessed with you and the pretty little sounds you made.

As he fucked you, he tossed your leg over his shoulder as he continued to fuck you at such an animalistic pace you were unsure if you'd make out of this in one piece. Your stomach, knotted at the pleasure. You hummed and whined as his cock thrashed in and out of you as he whined.

His lips capturing yours once against for a kiss, yet this time deeper. His lips moved so sensually against yours, as he kissed you with such passion. His hand, clasped around your neck as his tongue slid in and out of your mouth as the pair of you hummed. It was like time stopped and it was just you. You had never been fucked this good before, but thanks to Mattheo you now had.

You continued to whined with each thrust, gasping as you gripped at his hair, tugging on it. Mattheo's slight chuckles at every whine that left your mouth sent you spiraling.

As he kissed your deeper and fucked you harder you heard as scream, causing you both to pull away from the kiss. But that didn't stop Mattheo from railing the fuck out of you still. The pair of you looked over his shoulder to see Erica stood in the doorway. On urge you went to pull away from Mattheo in embarrassment but he held you down, smirking back at you as he sped up causing you to arch your back, screaming.

"Mhm- Fuck.. Your dick is so perfect" You whined as your gaze slightly lingering on Erica as the pair of you made eyecontact before you arched your back, leaning back and gripping the headboard. as he fucked you into the mattress. Your body recoiling against the thrusts as the bed creaked and shook.

The two of you edging closer to your high before you both case against one another. You pulled him closer as you kissed him deeply. Moaning softly into his mouth as you creamed his cock. Sighing softly as your body slowly loosened up.

Mattheo pulled away, smirking as he licked his lips. The pair of you had forget Erica was in the room and could more than happy stay like this until you heard a shrill shriek. "WHAT THE FUCK!" She yelled.

The pair of you untied from one another as you sighed, standing up and pulling your clothes back on, as Erica stood in shock at the two of you.

As you buttoned your shirt, you threw your jumper of your shoulders as you grabbed your heels before walking around Erica. "Just returning the favour" You smiled at her wholeheartedly. "Have fun cleaning" You turned to Mattheo before you left, shooting him a wink as he still led against the bed, bare naked.

"You- WHAT??" You could hear the cogs turning in Erica's head as you felt the scene before hearing crashing and screaming. Now she knows how you felt I guess, and well.

She deserved it.

#harrypotter fanfiction #slytherin boys #slytherin boys fanfiction #slytherin fanfiction #benjamin wadsworth #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo x y/n #angelfrombenethfics

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queenie-the-court-jester · 27 days

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that isn't very holy of you :/

Yandere church boy x gn!reader

It came out shittier than I hoped for. Not proofread 🌺 I'll fix this when I have the time

Tw: religious themes, noncon mention, minor cult mention

✝️ you had just arrived in the small town of morning star. Having been needing a break from the city life, you rented a one bedroom cabin close by. Planning on staying here for a month, you quickly headed towards your new home, very eager to start exploring the area

✝️ wandering around the town square, it seemed everyone knew eachother. A family like community perhaps? Maybe that's why they all kept staring at you as passed through, must not be use to new faces

✝️that was until a group of children approached, asking you to come play ball with them. You couldn't say no to their puppy dog eyes, and the adult's judgemental stares so you agreed. And it was fun surprisingly! You noticed none of the children had any phones.. or the grown up's for that matter

✝️your first week there you were unsettled, but you just pushed it off as the townsfolks strange behavior, Focusing on unpacking and enjoying your stsy. Until one of the school teachers, a kindergarten one, knocked on your door on a sunday

"hi there honey! On behalf of the people I'd like to sincerely apologize for the cold welcome. It's just been a hard year for all of us! So to make it up you, won't you come to church with us on this fine morning?"

✝️ whether or not you're religious yourself, she managed to convince you to come along. Chatting the whole walk there. Talking about her husband, her children. She mentioned something about having a son your age but you weren't really paying attention

✝️ walking through the grand double doors of the church house, she sat you on the front row with the pastors family, next to a young man. You were startled as she sat on the other side of you, leaning in to whisper In Your ear as she pointed at the pastor preaching

"that's my hubby right there. He's a handsome fella ain't he?"

✝️david looked at his mother in disbelief, he told her a few a times he found you attractive and now look at her! He could practically see the gears turning in her head. thankfully you seemed preoccupied thinking, so he did his best to seem normal while his poor heart beated 300 mph

✝️after the sermon, david turned to you and have you a sheepish smile

"hi.. my name's David, but you can call me dave.. its.. nice to meet you"

✝️you and David hit it off, unlike all the other people. He didn't constantly talk about praising god and forcing his religion down your throat. He was kind, understanding. Laughing at your jokes and nodding along to your words. He never met someone so.. ethereal

✝️growing up, he had a hard time believing in his small towns "god". Watching them cut up and sacrifice newcomers to their false idols, he felt sick to the pit of his stomach heading their screams. But he could definitely devote his cause to you...

✝️he trapped you in this shitty town when he asked you out on a little date a few days later. Unaware he drugged your food and dragging you into his home, waking up chained to a bed. You couldn't tell how long you've been there, but every time you'd try to escape he'd punish you in bed. Not letting you cum or overstimulating you to the point of tears. Why would you want to leave something that can make you feel so good?

✝️he grew up desensitized to blood and gore, so he's confused when you're screaming and crying. Why are you doing that? Don't you know that this is what happens to bad spouses? What do you mean you're not married either? ofcourse you are. Stop being so difficult...

✝️nobody blinks an eye when he strides into town with you on a collar and leash. And that's when you realized, you should have left earlier. Because the whole town was sick in the head. It wasn't like you could call for help because he fucking destroyed your electronics and the people don't even have phones. Something about wifi signals can brainwash you

✝️ he's whipped for you, that much you can obviously tell. but he's smarter than he looks. Eating dinner with his family is just painful,since all they talk about is God god god. It hurts your ears with how often they just Randomly start singing praises. It's bad enough they force you to watch their cult church activities...

✝️if you give in to his demands, he'll let you off the leash but you have to stay close by at all times. If you don't, he'll have to make his punishments a little more extreme. There's also a possibility he'll force you to help around the town. whether that be looking after the children or just running around doing errands. The shock bracelet on your ankle stops you from running into the woods..

✝️if you don't, well.. you wouldn't mind if you became permanently handicapped right?

"don't be so difficult sweetie.. just stay still and it'll cut right through okay?'

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awearywritersworld · 3 months

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the day of my execution

sukuna x reader summary: gojo, yuuji, and sukuna discuss what happened at the store. sukuna begins to consider your mortality like never before and takes care of you when you're sick. w/c: 2.7k tags/warnings: fluff. mentions of attempted kidnapping. banter. reader has the flu. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: sorry for disappearing for so long, but here is the long awaited next chapter. i've put a second a/n at the end, so i hope you'll read it. please excuse me talking out of my ass trying to rationalize my application of jujutsu, but if gege does it, so can i. i hope it kind of makes sense though. series masterlist // masterlist

truthfully, yuuji expects his wednesday morning to be as uneventful as any other, but when he stands in front of the bathroom sink to brush his teeth, his eyes are not the only ones staring back at him.

"what d'ya want?" he groans. "it's too early for this."

"we need to talk."

sukuna doesn't give his vessel a chance to respond before he begins recounting the events of the previous night, a story which has yuuji's face cycling between surprise, worry, and dismay. "the man claimed someone sent him?"

"that's what i said," sukuna responds impatiently.

"why would anyone be after her? i don't understand."

"would it kill you to use your brain for once?" sukuna questions, having had the entirety of the night to ponder the situation. "think, idiot. who would be interested in using her in some ploy? against you. against... us."

yuuji's eyes widen. "the higher ups?

"no one else would be so brazen."

it strikes sukuna as ironic that just days after he relayed the cruelness he endured at the hands of jujutsu society's higher ups a millenia ago, you too almost became one of their victims. it's a reality that he despises.

"i should call gojo—"

"that is out of the question."

"do you want to keep her safe or not?"

sukuna scoffs. "this is how we keep her safe. if the higher ups are after her, we can't trust other sorcerers."

yuuji almost seems offended on gojo's behalf. after all, he's known him for the better part of a decade. "i'd trust gojo with my life."

"well this isn't your life we're talking about. this is much more important."

yuuji chuckles. "i know. that's exactly why we need help."

before sukuna can protest, yuuji's dialing his old sensei and asking to meet somewhere they can speak privately.

that's how they end up at a small bakery on the outskirts of tokyo, sukuna relaying the story for the second time that morning.

once he finishes, gojo leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. "well, i don't think you're wrong about the higher ups being involved."

"so what are we supposed to do?" yuuji asks. "they might use her to get to me, but you don't think the higher ups would actually put her life in danger, do you?"

though yuuji's question is directed toward gojo, it isn't him that answers.

"you're as naive as ever," sukuna scoffs. "they'll stop at nothing to achieve their own ends."

gojo grimaces, a silent agreement with the assertion. "i can do some poking around, see who ordered it to be done."

"and what exactly is that going to do? there's no reasoning with them."

"a fact i am well aware of," the white haired man narrows his eyes at the king of curses. "but there is leverage in power, something i happen to have more of than anybody—"

"almost anybody—"

"so as the strongest, i'll take care of this as soon as i can."

"hey, um, so as productive as all the dick measuring is," yuuji interrupts. "it doesn't keep her safe in the meantime."

"i have an idea in that regard," sukuna says. "it's an ancient practice, and while it doesn't offer any protective measures, it will allow me to find her if they make another attempt like last night."

gojo leans forward, clearly interested to hear more.

"i can imbue a talisman with a part of myself and if she wears it, it will act as a beacon for her location."

"with part of yourself? as in, your cursed energy?" yuuji speculates. "wouldn't that do more harm than good? attract cursed spirits and whatever?"

"no, i'm not a fool. it's not cursed energy."

sukuna is hesitant to clarify further. he'd done something similar when creating his fingers, but it was different then. it was a selfish endeavor to preserve his life long after it was his time to die. it was a dark sort of jujutsu, one meant only to bring destruction.

but intention is important in sorcery. it can change the very essence of the practice.

for the first time in his life, sukuna is acting selflessly, concerned only with your protection. it's a pure sort of jujutsu this time around, one that allows him to impart a piece of himself that isn't tainted by cursed energy.

and because of that, that part of him would be unprotected. it'd leave him uniquely vulnerable. it's a steep and dangerous measure. that's why the practice had been forgotten long before the modern age.

"then what could it possibly be?" it's quiet for a moment as yuuji's question hangs in the air.

"it's your soul, isn't it?" the disbelief lacing gojo's voice is quite plain, but he's heard whispers of such techniques. "you'd give her a piece of your soul."

sukuna's never been one for unfinished business, so it's no surprise when he finds himself on the couch, intent on finishing the stranger. besides, it had become clear he'd been focusing on the wrong aspects of the book when he first began reading it.

he's three chapters from the end when he hears a loud shatter from the kitchen, followed by a sharp gasp. the broken glass hasn't even finished sliding across the floor before he's at your side.

"what happened?" the alarm in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"nothing, nothing," you assure him. "i just dropped my cup."

crouching down, you reach for one of the bigger pieces before your hand is swiftly smacked away. "don't."

"it's fine. it's only a little glass."

when you reach for it again, he grabs your wrist. "you troublesome little thing. do you ever listen?"

"i don't make a habit of it."

"i know. the question was rhetorical."

sukuna's already noticed the shards of glass surrounding your bare feet, so he wastes no time in picking you up and placing you on the countertop.

"don't move." he says it in such a way that, for once, you don't even think about disobeying him.

he all but stomps out of the room, returning moments later with a broom and dust pan. there's a small smile playing on your lips as you watch him gather the larger pieces before sweeping up the rest.

and you know, it's really not fair. sukuna could even call it a cosmic injustice, the way he has to worry about broken glass and fragile fingertips.

but he likes you and he likes the pads of your fingers, particularly the way they feel against his skin and run through his hair, so he swallows his pride.

it's been consuming him lately— the fact that you are just as easily broken as the glass that littered the kitchen tile. he never considered just how many ways there are for a human to die until you were nearly taken from him.

so once he's done, he rests the broom and dustpan against the wall and stands in front of you, his hips situated between your knees.

reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a necklace and your mouth falls open in shock. a delicate chain is threaded around his fingers, while its ruby pendant dangles in the air. "i want you to have this."

"what.. what is it?"

he snorts. "you don't know what a necklace is?"

you let out a breath of a laugh. "of course i do. i'm just surprised."

you hold up your palm and he places the necklace there gently. inspecting the gem, you notice it bears a striking resemblance to the color of his eyes.

strangely, it's almost as if it's heavier than it should be— like it's weighed down by some importance beyond your comprehension.

"it's beautiful," you tell him honestly. "are you sure?"

"sure of what?"

"that i should have it."

he pauses before responding, taking in the way you're so gingerly holding it. he's scared you've realized what he's actually giving you. that you're repulsed by it.

he's hesitant when he asks, "why would you think otherwise?"

"i didn't do anything to deserve something like this."

sukuna breathes a sigh of relief. "you are ever the fool."

his hands find your hips, pulling you off the counter and onto your feet. he plucks the necklace from your hand, then shifts to stand behind you.

moving your hair to the side, his fingers brush lightly against your skin. "the necklace is undeserving of adorning your neck. not the other way around."

and he knows it's the truth. a piece of him, attached to a creature so lovely she should be out of his reach... well, that's just unseemly, isn't it?

"but promise me something anyway."

"anything," you say without delay.

he situates the chain around your neck, the pendant lying in the space where your collarbones meet, and fastens the clasp. when you turn to face him, you're met with an alarmingly grave expression.

"promise you won't ever take it off."

you fiddle with the ruby somewhat nervously, feeling as if you're missing some important piece of the puzzle.

you nod in response to his request, but it isn't enough for him.

"say it."

"i promise."

he can see that you're biting back questions, so he explains, "if you're wearing that, i'll always know where to find you."

it finally dawns on you, for the first time, how much the incident at the store truly affected him. it's not the way he ended those men that clued you in, nor is it the way he pleaded with you to forgive him.

it happens in this moment. it's the gentleness of his voice, despite his underlying desperation. it's the way he's watching you carefully, as if you're likely to disappear. it's the fact he wouldn't let you clean up a mess of your own making, because he can't stand the thought of seeing you bleed.

"i... i don't know what to say."

"well, that's a first."

"shut up," you punch his shoulder. "you're ruining the moment."

"right, my bad," he chuckles and glances down at the gemstone. "do you like it?"

you let out a breath. "of course. i love it."

he smiles at your words— soft and genuine— truly a rare sight. "good."

you notice that he's looking at you. really looking at you. his eyes shift away from yours and over to each of your temples. then down to your nose. your mouth. even your chin.

he takes in every detail and he feels like he's in your debt simply for gazing at your countenance.

you almost regret it when your hands curl around the collar of his shirt and pull his lips to yours. you should have savored his smile, spent time committing it to memory.

although, that's soon forgotten as you feel the curve of his mouth deepen while his lips move against yours.

it isn't until day three of your ceaseless coughing and sneezing that sukuna adds them to his list— broken glass, fragile fingertips, coughs, and sniffles.

his concern is clear from the way he dotes on you. he brings you cold cloths, makes you tea, massages your neck, runs you baths.

now he's on his way to a twenty four hour pharmacy to pick up more medicine to reduce your fever, and while it's only a block away, he's still doing it alone.

but not even for a moment does he consider running off to burn the world's largest city to the ground. the streets are crawling with people, but he finds himself avoiding them more than anything.

he has to get back to you after all.

the only thought on his mind other than you is the ending of the stranger. the main character, while awaiting his beheading from his prison cell, conveys his final words to readers:

for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, i opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. finding it so much like myself— so like a brother, really— i felt that i had been happy and that i was happy again. for everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, i had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators on the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.

in sukuna's first life, perhaps this line would have resonated with him. it was a life where he had resolved himself to the idea that nothing really mattered, because the alternative was too painful. it didn't matter that jujutsu society betrayed him. it didn't matter that he stole people's lives out from under them. it didn't matter that he was alone.

and while he would have never surrendered himself to execution, if that had been his fate, he would have preferred to go out surrounded by living reminders of all he had accomplished. surrounded by all the people he had ruined.

however, when he imagines such an occurrence happening in his present life, there is only one face throughout the entire crowd and it belongs to you.

the very thought makes him sick with grief.

looking up, he realizes that there are no stars in tokyo anymore, that there is no feeling of indifference when it comes to you, and that there is no happiness to be had when you are not by his side.

he knows he'll never shed another drop of innocent blood if it means you'll always have that look of adoration in your eyes when your gaze falls on him.

so his trip to the pharmacy is short and hurried.

opening your apartment door, he's careful to be quiet in case you're sleeping, but he finds you peering at him from the couch.

your hair is disheveled. there's a sheen of sweat across your forehead. your eyes are beyond tired. your shirt is wrinkled.

you're still the most pleasing thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"you're back," you rasp.

"i'm back," he affirms, slipping off his shoes.

you sit up and quickly regret it, your hand coming to rest against your stomach. "god, i feel like i'm gonna puke."

"charming."

you use all your strength to throw a pillow at him, which he easily catches before tossing something small in your direction— a ginger chew to help with the nausea.

you unwrap it and pop it in your mouth. "thanks."

he hums in response, settling down in the spot beside you. once he pulls the medicine from the bag, it's followed by two bottles. "got you these, too."

recognizing them as your favorite drink, your exhausted and delirious brain makes your eyes well up with grateful tears. "you're so sweet."

"yeah, whatever. don't get used to it."

"but you are. you're sweet and kind, except i'm the only one who knows it," you pause before continuing, your head falling onto his shoulder. "why is that?"

he contemplates denying that he possesses any such quality, but decides against it. "you're the only one who's ever cared to know."

he can feel the heat of your temple through his shirt, so he opens the box of fever reducers and pops out two tablets before handing them to you. "take these. you're burning up."

you do as he says without protest. standing up and stretching your arms above your head, sukuna's eyes wander to where your shirt rides up and reveals your stomach.

"c'mon, let's go to bed," you yawn.

he follows after you wordlessly, carelessly pulling off his shirt and climbing into bed beside you. curling up against his side, your head comes to rest on his chest and it's quiet for a few passing moments.

"you can't see the stars from tokyo anymore."

"what?" you ask sleepily.

"the stars. there's too much light to see them from here."

"oh, yeah. we can take a trip to the mountains soon. you can see them pretty well from there."

"i'll hold you to that."

and so with the promise of a beautiful night sky, with the company of someone who means the world to him, and with the feeling of your body pressed against his— sukuna feels that he had been happy and that he was happy again.

a/n 2: hey! so i'm sorry again for stopping updates without really saying anything. i think i just needed to step away from tumblr and writing for a while because i was getting a bit overwhelmed. i was also a little unsure about the direction of this chapter. i was struggling to incorporate the necklace part without it seeming cheesy or weird. that being said, thanks as always to everyone for your support of this series. it's really heartwarming and much appreciated. if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear! i'm not sure when the next update will be, but i'll do my best to keep you guys posted. all my love - m<3

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#m!writes #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna imagines #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna imagines #sukuna fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff

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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

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Shovel Talk(s) Part One

Part One 🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four

Steve and Eddie aren't even together when Steve gets the Shovel Talk from Eddie's uncle, but it is what tips Steve into talking to Eddie about his feelings, so he's not upset by it.

They aren't dating, not because he doesn't want Eddie, because he absolutely does. It's just that he wants to be sure Eddie wants him back. There are times when he's sure, when Eddie gets into his space a bit too close, or more often, than he does with anyone else. Eddie calls him a thousand and one nicknames, ranging from sweet to irritating but just when Steve thinks that's a perk left just for him, Eddie hands someone else a new nickname (just the one, a voice in Steve's head that sounds suspiciously like Robin says).

Not that any of that is the point. Wayne wouldn't bother to give Steve a shovel talk at all unless he knew how Eddie felt. Wayne is a man of action, and he's never done anything unless it mattered. Meant something. Steve and Wayne have sat in plenty of (what Steve considers to be) awkward silences because Wayne doesn't talk to fill the void of silence.

The point is, Steve drops Eddie off at the house the government so graciously bought for the Munsons, walks Eddie to the door and giving Eddie a hug goodbye. He stays on the porch until Eddie shuts the door and then nearly jumps out of his skin when he hears Wayne call out his name.

"Harrington," Wayne says from the shadows of the wrap around porch.

So, Steve jumps and it's only then he notices that Wayne is sitting at the table and chairs set up on the porch. "Mr. Munson, sir, hi. Hello."

Wayne lets out a chuckle, but it doesn't really sound amused. "I have come to accept that you are nothing like your father, boy, but I do want to make it clear to you, that Eddie means more to me than anything else on this Earth."

"I know, sir."

"I know you do. And while I will forever be grateful that you helped return him to me alive, know that I will not hesitate to make you disappear if you hurt my boy in a way he can't bounce back from."

Steve's not afraid of Wayne, not really, but that doesn't stop him from feeling the need to flee. He doesn't, though, because he'd gotten enough shovel talks from concerned parents in high school, and he knows they can sense weakness. "I can't promise I'd never hurt him, sir, but I can promise it'll never be intentional."

He can't actually see Wayne's face in the darkness but he feels sized up all the same.

"I believe that, Steve," Wayne says, and it's the first time Steve's ever heard his name leave the man's mouth, "now go home."

Wayne's shovel talk was expected. Robin's is not.

"You took Eddie on a date date?" She whispers it as though they aren't alone in Steve's living room. They're laying on the floor in a line, heads next to each other so if they turn slightly to the side they can make eye contact. Steve's not sure why they always end up on the floor for Serious Talk Time.

"Yeah," Steve says, looking away from Robin's face to stare up to the ceiling, "I mean, sorta? We can't like... be open that it was a date, but we went to dinner and a movie and it was nice. Shared a popcorn and played footsie under the diner table."

"Whoa," Robin says. "I never thought you'd- didn't think you'd be brave enough to ask him."

"Me either."

"Steve," Robin sounds serious, so Steve turns to look at her. She studies his face for a moment before she's the one to look away, speaks to the ceiling, "be careful with Eddie, yeah?"

"What? Careful how?"

"I just think you could really fuck him up," Robin says. "You're his first boyfriend, right? That's going to set a precedent for relationships that might happen if you two don't work out. And I hate to say this, because I know you've changed, but like, I saw how a lot of those girls you dated in high school ended up when you broke up with them."

Steve's a little hurt, because Robin's his best friend. She should be giving this talk to Eddie, not him. But, also, he understands. He knows that Robin knew about Eddie's sexuality before he did, knows they bonded over being queer while Steve was still figuring himself out.

Steve also knows that Eddie's never been in a relationship before, Eddie'd told him at much when Steve asked him out. Steve doesn't like that Robin implied that he and Eddie will eventually break up, but no matter how much that thought makes Steve's heart ache, he won't know if it'll happen unless it does.

He just doesn't understand why she seems to think he'll be the one breaking Eddie's heart. It could go the other way.

"Did you OD over there?" Robin asks, trying to lighten the mood.

"No," Steve answers, "I'll be careful."

They've been on four more dates before Nancy knocks on his door. She doesn't accept his invitation to come inside. Just starts speaking on his doorstep.

"As Eddie's Capital P Soulmate," is how she starts that sentence, and it makes something hurt deep inside Steve as he tries not to think about Robin, "I am obligated to remind you that I do own several guns now. And I don't miss."

"Jesus Christ," Steve says, because even Wayne was more subtle, "I got it."

"Good. I do know you'd never hurt him on purpose," Nancy says but Steve doesn't feel reassured.

He thinks that, if she really didn't think he's going to end up hurting Eddie she wouldn't have said anything at all. "Right."

"Well, good talk Steve," and then she's walking down the driveway and climbing into her car.

He closes the door and goes to the kitchen to get himself a beer, mostly so he has something to do besides stew in his emotions. He wonders if Eddie has been given the shovel talk, too? Maybe Robin did the same thing Nancy just did. Showed up unprompted, threatened Eddie with some sort of bodily harm, and then just left.

Steve grabs the phone and dials Eddie's number.

"Hello?" Eddie's voice greets him, albeit questioningly.

"Eddie, it's Steve."

"Oh, hello sweetheart," Eddie says, "are you calling for business or pleasure?"

Steve laughs, "business."

"Boo!"

"Listen, uh, I had a question. I just wanted to know if anyone's said anything to you. About us. Or, y'know, specifically about us and our relationship?"

"Uh, not really? A few congratulations, I guess. Why? Did someone say something?" Eddie's voice is level, almost too level, so Steve knows he's trying to keep cool.

"Oh, no! No! I mean, aside from the scary shovel talk from- Wayne, everyone's been surprisingly cool about it. Very supportive," Steve says and even though it's true, everyone they've told has been cool about it, it feels a little bit like a lie.

Eddie laughs, "I can't believe my uncle gave you a shovel talk! You know, I keep expecting to get one from Robin but so far nothing. She must think you're safe in my capable hands."

Steve is safe in Eddie's hand, he thinks, but that doesn't stop the sting that goes through him. "Of course, she does. You've been a perfect boyfriend."

There's a pause before Eddie's voice comes through the phone, soft and quiet, "I'm glad you said so. I want to be. For you."

"You're not allowed to say those kinds of things when you aren't within kissing distance, babe," Steve says, because if he doesn't add humor to this conversation, he's going to tell Eddie he loves him instead, and even Steve knows that saying that a month into dating is too soon, especially over the phone where he can't see Eddie's reaction.

Eddie laughs and makes kissing sounds at him before the conversation shifts to chatting about the day and making plans for the weekend.

Steve is trying really hard to not be the person he was in high school but every time he gets to the point where he's being a better person, someone brings up how he used to be. Shoves it back into his face that no matter what Steve does he can't outrun his past.

One such time is shortly after Steve and Eddie accidentally come out as a couple to all of Hellfire. Steve was just dropping off the boys and had stepped inside to chat a bit. Once game time had arrived it had and Steve made to leave, they'd (he and Eddie) had been on autopilot. Eddie'd whined 'where's my goodbye kiss?' and Steve had stepped over, kissed him goodbye, and was out the door before it had actually computed.

Steve had burst back through the door, rushing back to Eddie, because no way in Hell was he going to leave his boyfriend to deal with whatever the consequences would be alone.

It had been absolute chaos at the table with people shouting over each other.

"Of all the people you could be with, you picked Steve!? You could do better!" Mike had whined, and Steve had thought for sure he was the only one who had heard Mike until he saw Will punch his arm and hiss his own 'don't be a dick' at Mike.

It took almost half an hour to calm everyone down. It was a relief to know that Eddie had come out to his bandmates/the older Hellfire members already. The kids took it in stride, in the end, and Eddie had shoo'd Steve away.

Jeff had excused himself, too, and Steve thought he was just going to use the bathroom but instead he followed Steve outside.

Ah. Steve knows what's coming.

"Harrington," Jeff says, "can't say I'm excited that you're the secret boyfriend Eddie's constantly sighing wistfully about. I'm sure Wayne's already threatened you," And Robin, and Nancy, and Mike doesn't think he's good enough, "but if you hurt Eddie-"

"I get it! There will be dire consequences if I hurt Eddie," Steve snaps, not down for hearing it anymore. He stomps to his car and peels away from the curb without bothering to look back.

If he's being honest, Steve didn't even know he had a breaking point with shovel talks until he gets his fifth one from Dustin.

It's not even a shovel talk. It's just a single sentence, said almost a month after Dustin learned about their relationship. He's dropping Dustin off after their DnD game. Normally Claudia picks him up, but she's busy tonight and asked Steve to do it.

"Alright, Henderson, safely delivered."

"Thanks, Steve," Dustin says, unbuckles his seatbelt, and opens the door, before turning back to Steve. He just looks at him for a moment.

"What?"

"I'm happy for you and Eddie. Just, don't hurt him, ok?"

He nods his head but can't say anything. Dustin grabs his backpack, shoots him a smile, and climbs out. Steve does wait until Dustin closes the front door behind him before putting the car back in gear.

He manages to get home, somehow, because Steve doesn't fully remember the drive. It's not that his mind was so focused on something else that made him fail to take in his surroundings, but rather that his mind wasn't even a part of his body anymore.

One moment he was pulling away from the Henderson residence, and the next, he was home, just standing in his kitchen in the dark. And now that his thoughts are back, or easier to process, he finds himself wondering why everyone thinks that he's going to be the one to hurt Eddie.

How many people has he hurt that this is his reputation? Is it inevitable that he will hurt Eddie? Is it truly just a matter of time until he breaks Eddies heart? Why is everyone so convinced that he will?

Briefly the thought occurs to him that maybe he should call up Eddie and break up with him right now, before Eddie has a chance to get in deep enough that Steve could break his heart, but just the thought of it breaks Steve's heart, so he's not going to do that. Doesn't want to do that. That would just be punishing Eddie for something he didn't do.

None of this is Eddie's fault, and Steve's an asshole for even thinking of breaking up with him because of it. Which feeds him back into the loop of thinking that maybe everyone is right about him. He is an asshole and will someday hurt Eddie, perhaps even on purpose.

He loves Eddie. He's in love with Eddie. But does loving him mean proving his friends wrong? Or does it mean leaving him before they're proven right?

He wants to ask everyone why they think he'll hurt Eddie.

He wants to ask everyone why they don't care if he's the one that gets hurt.

#steddie #my fic #we like making steve a sad emotional mess right guys?#steve-centric #we gotta make the boy Sad so that his boyfriend can fix him #is that healthy? not IRL but this is fanfic and if i want Love to solve all the problems then im allowed to do that #only itll be in part two #that might get written one day #is steve putting words into his friends' mouths #yeah duh the boy needs therapy but its the 80s so hes not getting any

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nonranghaes · 12 days

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felix looks half-asleep by the time he enters your apartment, and you sit up to see if he's there alone. he's not, as chris stands in the open doorway, chuckling to himself before waving and wishing you well before leaving. he drops his bag in the doorway, shuffling out of his shoes and into his house slippers before crossing the living room.

and then he's flopped down onto you, burying his face in your neck as he wraps his arms around you. "missed you," he mumbles, planting a chaste kiss against your skin before cuddling in. "did you miss me?"

you giggle softly, tapping his side a little. he moves back enough for you to wiggle your arms out so that you can hold him. now that you're more comfortable, you pull him back into your embrace and kiss the side of his head. "of course," you say. "did you have a good time?"

"mmhm. you should come next time. mom wanted to see you again." he snuggles in closer to you, warm as ever. "next time she's here, she wants to get lunch."

"with me? or both of us?"

"you," he mumbles. "both of us, too, but mainly you." he chuckles softly to himself, his eyes finding yours in the low light. "i think she likes you more than me."

"well... you know how that feels," you brush back his hair from his eyes. your family loves felix to the point where they're always asking about him and wanting to talk to him when you call home. "but i'd like that." you cup his cheek, and he leans into your touch. "wanna go to bed?"

"yes, please," he pecks your lips. "i slept on the plane, but..." he takes your hand as he's getting up. "i'll unpack in the morning."

you just follow him off of the couch, following after him. "lix?" you say softly, and he turns to you with a sleepy hum. "i'm glad you're home."

he squeezes your hand tighter. even while so sleepy, he gives you a cute smile, and speaks again, "i'm glad you're my home, too."

#nonranghaes.thoughts #nonranghaes.skz #stray kids imagines #stray kids x you #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagine #stray kids x reader #skz x you #skz x reader #skz fluff #felix fluff #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #felix x you #lee felix x you #lee felix fluff

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harunayuuka2060 · 17 days

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Neige: MC! 🌸🌸🌸

MC: ...

MC: What is it, Neige? You are quite energetic today.

Neige: We're going to have another class reunion in RSA! It will be tomorrow! Be sure to be there!

MC: ...

MC: Neige, I don't think you should be inviting me in another class reunion.

Neige: Eh? *sad frowns* Why?

MC: I was not a student of Royal Swords Academy. And I only accompanied you last time because I was a concierge and you were my client.

Neige: *pouts* But the reunion is not about being students or not! *then giggles* The others will be bringing their significant others too!

Che'nya: That's right, nya! *hugs MC from behind* *resting his chin on their shoulder*

MC: More of a reason I shouldn't come. I'm not anyone's significant other.

Che'nya: Me? :3

MC: ...

Neige: *giggles* See? So please, MC? Promise me you'll be there or else I will be mad at you. *pouts*

MC: ...

MC: *sigh* Fine. I will inform Vil that I won't be able to assist him on that day.

Neige: Yay!

Che'nya: We should wear matching clothes nya! :3

MC: I don't want to.

Che'nya: *whispers* I'm changing your wardrobe.

MC: ...

Vil: Is there really a need for you to come?

MC: I was pressured.

Vil: ...

Vil: In that case, I'll be going with you.

MC: Huh?

Vil: If Neige is inviting an outsider, then I'm guessing it's fine that I tag along.

MC: ...

Vil: I'll ask Neige myself. If he refuses, you won't go.

MC: ...

MC: Alright.

The RSA alumni: Neige~! Che'nya~!

Che'nya and Neige: Hello, guys~!

MC and Vil: ...

Vil: *mutters* They're like kids.

MC: ...

Che'nya: I thought some of you would bring your lovers today nya?

Neige: Were they unable to join us?

Classmate A: Yes. My wife is busy, but she wants me to enjoy so it's fine if I don't come home early.

Classmate B: Which I'm sure you won't do. You'll leave after 15 minutes.

Classmate A: Hey!

Classmate A: ...I'll stay for 30 minutes.

Classmate B: See?

Classmate C: Oh! And MC! It's nice to see you again!

MC: *nods* *then smiles* Likewise.

Classmate C: I heard from Neige that Che'nya didn't leave you and is currently staying at your house.

Classmate C: He's really putting up that fence, huh?

MC: ...

MC: I don't think I understand.

Vil: ...

Che'nya and Neige's classmates: *are starting to get enthusiastic with their conversation*

Classmate D: Neige! I asked you to recommend me with someone!

Classmate D: You knew I'm single! And a hottie attended our reunion last time and you didn't introduce me!

Che'nya: Nyahaha~! Like I'd even let you come close. :3

His other classmates: *laughs*

Vil: ...

Vil: *whispers to MC* I'm bored. We should take our leave.

MC: *nods* I'll tell Neige and Che'nya.

Classmate A: So, Che'nya? When are you going to introduce MC as your significant other?

Che'nya: Hmmm... *smiles* Next time! Once MC accepts I'm serious about them!

MC: !!!

Vil: ...

Neige: *chuckles* MC is blushing.

MC: ...I'm not.

Vil: ...

Vil: *stood up from his seat* My apologies, there's somewhere MC and I need to be.

RSA alumni: It's okay!

MC: Che'nya-

Che'nya: It's fine nya~. I'll see you at home~! :3

MC: ...

MC: Yes. We'll talk at home.

Vil: ...

Vil: MC, let's go.

Vil: ...

Vil: What do you feel about Che'nya?

MC: Huh?

Vil: ...

Vil: Do you think you can fall for him?

MC: ...

MC: If I'm being honest...

MC: I might have already, Vil.

Vil: ...

Vil: Huh. You're still not sure then.

MC: Yes. Even so, he's the only person who has stayed with me and openly says he likes me. *smiles to themselves*

Vil: ...

#twisted wonderland #twst mc #twst chenya #twst vil #twst neige #twst vil and mc series 1

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minkyungseokie · 14 days

Text

Private, But Not Secret | Max Verstappen

synopsis; max is in a relationship with a pilot who, despite being popular on the internet, likes to keep their relationship as private as she could

warnings; none

note; requested

note2; I don't think I'm as funny as anyone else who make smaus. I have the sense of humor as a bag of dirt. I tried and I hope you all enjoy this enough to keep requesting. I also did not know how to do a private, but secret romance, so take whatever tf this is

fc; any random woman I find on pintrest

Come Talk to Me

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Max Masterlist

pilotynv posted a photo!

pilotynv

liked by maxverstappen1, nyckdevries, landnorris, and 2,786,231 others

pilotynv A day in the life

tagged: pilotfriend1, pilotfriend2, pilotfriend3, maxverstappen1

dadlicker MAX CRUMBS!! I REPEAT, MAX CRUMBS!! ⤷ubertomywip First of all, your name 💀 second of all, what ⤷dadlicker Y/n doesn't really post Max ⤷Userdd Because they want to keep the relationship as private as possible

maxverstappen1 ❤️ ♥ by author ⤷pilotynv ❤️

danielriccardo I'm so glad you got that picture ⤷pilotynv You were there and you sent me the picture, dumbass ⤷danielriccardo I did? I must've been so drunk

Duign-23r Why is this bitch so fucking rude? ⤷pilotynv Rude how? I'm interacting with a friend. You would know friendly banter if you had friends ⤷User4 GAGGED

landonorris I didn’t know those windows opened

maxverstappen1 posted a photo!

maxverstappen1

liked by pilotynv and 129,420 others

maxverstappen1 Simply lovely. Thank you to our orange army in Bahrain for coming out and supporting us. Next stop Saudi Arabia ➡️ 🇸🇦

drillarkillar Simply lovely, my ass. When are you going to stop winning? You're ruining the sport 😒 ⤷ alliseearesainz @drillarkillar Fr, like, let other people win ⤷ hj219 @drillarkillar You DTS crybabies are what's ruining the sport

tututtutmaxverstappen My 2023 world champion!

masterbaiter give us Y/n content 🗣️🗣️🗣️

meirfyct See you in Saudi!

hamburgerler The 2023, 2024, and 2025 world champ

pilotynv You did amazing, my love. It was amazing seeing you in your element ❤️ ♥ by author ⤷maxverstappen1 @pilotynv ❤️

pilotynv posted a photo!

pilotynv

liked by maxverstappen1, pilotfriend2, landonorris, and 5,552,757

pilotynv Flew us to a remote getaway in Greece

tagged: maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1 ❤️ ♥ by author

gaggingballa she😭 flew 😭 them 😭 there 😭

lalalalisa_m that pizza looks so good! We should visit togther sometime ♥ by author ⤷pilotynv @lalalalisa_m Girl, I'd probably ne flying the plane you take here 😭 ⤷8bobbit0 @lalalalisa_m ariana, what are you doing here?

ariangrande Those pizzas look amazing ⤷arialandomis @arianagrande ARIANA?! ⤷greenblattbanner @arianagrande I knew Y/n was popular, but not that popular

pilotynv added to their story

replies

username omg max! He looks so good

Jossleftpinkietoe More Max pls!

Ynsimp His smile is so cute

landonorris Tell Max his face looks weird

Fuck off- Max

danielricciardo next time, take me and Heidi with you

Bet. I'll fly us all there again

pilotynv posted a photo

pilotynv

liked by maxverstappen1 and 4,663,781

pilotynv decided to watch a race for once since I'm off

tagged: maxverstappen1

urethka here before Max

lugunam The hand holding in the car is so cute

Taggedidj We stan a supportive queen

Fashionicosn She looks so good

Bootlicker GOOD LUCK, MAXIE

pilotynv added to their story

Honestly, I as struggling a bit with this one. I don't know how to make a smau about a private, but not secret relationship lol. Anyway, feel free to request more smaus or written fics

495 notes · View notes

landograndprix · 9 months

Text

woman ✾ l.n - ii

❧ you love max, you really do but your little brother has been getting more on your nerves each day as he tries to set you up with one of his friends.

❧ verstappen!reader who's older than max so if age gaps freak you out, don't read 💀

❧ prev part – next part

☆☆☆☆☆

y/nverstappen

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by kellypiguet, landonorris and 178,672 others

y/nusername only valid reason to visit Monaco if we're being completely honest 🥐

tagged: kellypiguet

view all 462 comments

maxkellyp y/n taking her aunt duties very serious

bott_ass where to apply to have you as my sugar auntie? asking for a friend?

zhou_ey time to have your own babies 😍

y/nverstappen I'm actually good with being the wine and sugar aunt for now 🍷

zhou_ey that's a pretty cool job too!

kellypiguet bring her home before dinner? 😂

y/nverstappen what do you mean, we're already on our way back to the netherlands, this my kid now.

lewham44 still a better mother figure to p than kelly 🤡

landonorris I know a few spots in Monaco you can't miss 😉

fewtrelllando spot number one: my bedroom

carlito55 lmao @.fewtrelllando jail for you 😭

dandoo mate, this is a post about her niece and you're flirting with y/n or making and attempt to do so? 😂

☆☆☆☆☆

y/nverstappen posted to their story

☆☆☆☆☆

landonorizzzz

liked by 563 others

landonorizzzz lando in Monaco last night after the GP ❤️

view all 188 comments

norr4slan screaming crying throwing up 🤯

lanlan frothing at the mouth..

norstappen wait a damn minute, was that y/n verstappen?! 😭

norrizzfour yeah but if you look closely she's just walking past with her friends and kelly lol they probably all went to the same place

maxiell nah my girl is avoiding him for real 💀

landoscar oh my god he's so pretty 😍

supermaxv MOTHER AND LANDO?

☆☆☆☆☆

y/nverstappen

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 199,752 others

y/nverstappen Monaco dump 🇲🇨

tagged: sannetje, maxverstappen1, kellypiguet

view all 988 comments

dannyricric man I'd do anything to live a life like this

tom1967 she's living off her brothers wealth..

dannyricric I'm pretty sure she makes enough money herself to live a life like this. 🙄

julieeeexo you and sanne served absolute cunt on the grid! 🤩

bobnorriz not the picture of the charles, max and lando podium :')

kellypiguet was really nice to have you around this weekend, we should definitely do this more often, P absolutely adores her auntie 🥰

Comment liked by y/nverstappen

charles_leclerc it was very nice we got to hang out together☺

Comment liked by y/nverstappen

sharllekler this guy makes me cringe so hard but it's so endearing, like did he pull all his girlfriend's by being awkward? 😭

sixteenleclerc girl have you seen y/n? She's got something that'll make most men awkward as fuck

victoriaverstappen so sad we couldn't join you two this year

y/nverstappen we should already plan for next year then 😉

☆☆☆☆☆

y/nverstappen

📍 Amsterdam, the Netherlands

liked by landonorris, kellypiguet and 201,432 others

y/nverstappen protect your peace 🌸

view all 999 comments

bananaclerc hey, yes, hi..I'd like to be you 😭

norrisoscar I've only known this woman for a week but I'm already obsessed with her

keirarobins do I spy new products for the store? 👀

y/nusername keep an eye open 😉

zhou_ey I don't know if I want to be you or if I want to be with you 😭

sannetje is that my hat?

y/nverstappen don't know what you're talking about..

sannetje sure..

landonorris I need that candle

maxv1 boy go to her store lmao, this is no webshop 💀

landonorris 🔥

grussell63 man I really thought you had more game than this..who taught you this, Charles? 😢

☆☆☆☆☆

taglist

@hockeyboysarehot @beatricemiruna @starwarssavy23 @be-your-coffee-pot

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris au #lando norris smau #lando norris fanfic #lando x reader #ln4

2K notes · View notes

lostfracturess · 15 days

Text

symptoms and causes | ch. 11

x pairing professor!gojo x med student f!reader (medical au)

x summary he's arrogant, self-centered, and he's your professor. renowned for his brilliance in neurosurgery and infamous for his allure. too bad you have to work with him on this research team. now you're stuck with dr. satoru gojo, delving into the complexities of both the brain and the heart—and of how far you'd go for a love that could destroy not only him but you as well.

x wc 13.5 k (enjoy your meal lol)

x warnings [18+] this story contains substance abuse/addiction, overdosing, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive and abusive behavior, manipulation, (heavy) angst, mentions of death / illness / blood, graphic medical procedures. reader discretion is advised.

x author's note hey loves!! thank you so much for your patience, i know it's been a while. buckle up, because we're taking another trip inside satoru's mind, so yeahhh. it's gonna be wild, oh and we're continuing right were we left off in the last chapter. this chapter is again in satoru's pov!! i've also updated the trigger warnings, so please take a look before reading (might be spoiling tho). and lastly, credit to the fanart in the cover, if you know the artist, pls let me know!! can't wait to hear what you all think & thanks for sticking with me!! ♡

series masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

They say before you can love someone else, you have to love yourself first.

And there lies the damn problem.

I don't know how.

Never have.

Why am I thinking this now?

I knew this was right.

Right for her.

But then why does my heart feel like it's being ripped out by the fucking roots?

Suguru will take care of her. He always does. That's the only thing that keeps me from screaming, keeps me from chasing after her.

I trust him, damn it, but it shouldn't be him.

It should be me holding her. Me, who knows how she likes to be held when the panic claws its way up. Me, holding her until the world feels less sharp, less cruel.

Me, who knows that she doesn't want to talk about it. Me, who knows to give her space. She needs space. My strong girl needs space first.

I hope he gives her space.

But he wouldn't know any of this. He couldn't comfort her in the ways I instinctively knew how.

Me, who knows how to soothe the invisible wounds, the ones even she denies exist. Me, who knows the soft words she needs to hear after it passes.

It shouldn't be him.

Sorry.

It shouldn't have been him.

Past tense.

It all might be past tense now.

And the thought is more than I could bear.

Shattered.

Was that the word?

Was there even a word for what I felt in that moment?

How could I ever convey this suffocating agony that's tearing me apart with mere words?

Words are meaningless in the end.

Meaningless when they couldn't be spoken to her, couldn't reach her, couldn't make her understand, couldn't heal the wound I'd carved into her heart.

So, yeah, maybe shattered is the right word.

The wrong word.

The sterile air was acid in my lungs. Each ragged breath felt like sandpaper against my throat. I held my breath, a desperate plea for the world to stop spinning, for the clock to rewind, for a chance to undo everything.

But time doesn't care.

It marched on, relentless, while I stayed trapped in this hell, drowning in the mess I made.

My lungs burned. My vision blurred. I waited until she disappeared. The world seemed to tilt sideways, losing all color and shape, leaving only the sharp, agonizing realization that I'd made her walk away.

I didn't want to breathe anymore.

Not in a world where every breath ached without her.

"Dr. Gojo?" A voice, distant, muffled.

Irrelevant.

My gaze flickered to Sukuna. He watched, a predator savoring the kill.

His twisted smile fueled rage within me. But there would be no fighting this. No grand defense. Not when her life was the bargaining chip.

So, I lied.

Each word a nail in the coffin of the connection I craved more than life itself.

Each word a drop of poison forced down my throat. A self-inflicted wound, a desperate mutilation of the only thing that had ever felt real.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes I loved so fiercely, wide with confusion and horror. The strangled gasp, the way her body went limp in Geto's arms — a haunting image that would forever be etched on my heart.

Muscles screamed, a silent protest against my own pathetic stillness. But I remained frozen.

This was my punishment.

I had to watch her leave, had to sear the pain into my very being, an endless penance for the choices I'd made.

The door clicked shut behind them.

That simple sound, final, absolute.

My lungs filled with air, a betrayal. Oxygen I didn't deserve, didn't want.

My own body, this treacherous thing kept going, kept me alive against my will, kept me tethered to this cruel reality.

The room swam back into focus, the judges' accusing faces nothing but a blurry backdrop. The sounds of their inquest washed over me like meaningless noise.

"Dr. Gojo? Can we continue?"

I nodded.

They pressed on. More questions about the research, her involvement, their accusations of favoritism.

How stupid.

Of course, I favored her.

How could I not?

She is everything.

Oh, sorry. Forgot. Past tense.

She was everything.

Did I regret it?

Did I wish I could go back and treat her with the same damn indifference I afforded everyone else?

Yeah, maybe.

A familiar craving stirred my senses, the desperate need for the numbing escape that would mean failing her even more. My fingers clawed at my forearm, trying to replace the hollowness with physical pain. It wasn't enough.

My responses were rote, mechanical.

Yeah, I favored her.

Yeah, I let her into the OR because of it.

Yeah, and she outshone every damn surgeon twice her age.

No, she didn't know I'd set it up.

No, she never asked for special treatment. She just worked until her eyes were bloodshot, pushing harder than anyone else.

And hell no, she didn't do a single thing wrong.

Except maybe — maybe loving me.

After what felt like an eternity, the judges seemed satisfied, or perhaps just exhausted by my robotic replies.

They painted me the arrogant professor with a weakness for a young student, who abused his power, who played favorites.

Whatever they wanted to believe, fine.

Didn't even have the energy to care anymore.

Let them drag my name through the mud, tarnish the reputation I'd worked so hard to build.

Because the title, the position, the facade of success meant nothing when all I wanted was to rewind time, to undo the damage I'd done to the one person who truly mattered.

I didn't feel anymore.

I was done.

─── ·✧· ───

I burst out of the courtroom.

I needed escape, not just from this sterile prison of a room, but from my own traitorous flesh.

That itch.

It was a wildfire beneath my skin, a thousand insects gnawing their way to the surface. My fingers twitched, claws desperate to tear, to bleed out the poison of this relentless craving.

My legs moved without conscious thought, pushing me towards my office. Somewhere. Anywhere I would be able to breathe again. The guilt was a serrated blade twisting in my gut, each movement slicing me open anew.

Her terror-stricken eyes seared into my very soul.

The walls of my office closed in, the familiar space suddenly too small, too suffocating.

My fist slammed into the desk. Papers scattered to the floor, a meaningless sea of white against the dark wood.

They didn't matter. None of it mattered.

A half-finished coffee mug followed. Porcelain shattered. Dark liquid splashed against the wall.

My blood roared in my ears.

Across the room, my framed diploma. I ripped it off the wall. Glass smashed. Sharp edges bit into my palm, drawing blood. But it wasn't enough. I hurled the frame against the wall.

Blood, hot and slick, coated my hands, the pain nothing.

In the shattered frame, I caught a glimpse of myself — wild eyes in a sweat-slicked face, a man on the verge of collapse.

It was a stranger.

I was across the room before I even registered the decision.

The drawer.

My fingers ripped it open.

There, like a coiled viper, the amber vial gleamed, a venomous promise of oblivion.

Don't —

Don't come at me now.

Did you really think I wouldn't keep a backup?

My hand reached, then hesitated.

The world lurched to a sharp halt as a knock pierced the chaos. My breath hitched, the vial a burning brand in my bloodied hand.

The door creaked open.

And there he was. Sukuna.

He leaned against the doorframe, that sickening smirk plastered on his face. It was like a lit fuse to a powder keg. The rage that had been gnawing at my insides, tearing me apart, finally found its target.

Before a single rational thought could form, I was on him. Fist to jaw, heard the crack, felt it in my knuckles. He stumbled back, the smirk finally wiping off his face.

I pinned him against the door. Forearm across his throat, crushing his windpipe. His eyes widened, but even then, there was that damn flicker of amusement.

"Well, well," he choked out, "this is a nice welcome back."

"Funny to you?"

He coughed, a harsh laugh scraping out of him. "C'mon, Satoru, relax. I did you a favor," he sputtered. "Your precious little student, she's better off now. You know I'm right."

Every muscle in my body tensed.

He was right.

In his twisted way, he was.

And that's what made it all so much worse.

My grip on his throat tightened. But there was nothing, no satisfactio, no release in the violence.

Sukuna saw it, the hesitation. His mouth twisted into a smirk again. "See, you get it. Sweet thing doesn't belong in this mess, does she? It's not for her, Satoru. It's for us."

His words scraped like nails on a chalkboard.

Yes, she was safer now, untouched by the rot that festered within me. Some desperate, logical part of me clung to that. But how could I hold on to that when my heart was screaming for her closeness?

"Or maybe," Sukuna drawled, pushing the knife deeper, "maybe you wanted to see where this goes. Stain her a bit, make her just a little bit more like you."

My breath hitched. For a split second, the floor vanished beneath me.

"Hit a nerve, did I?"

"Shut the hell up!" I couldn't face it, couldn't face the ugly truth as it would tear me apart. "You twist everything. Play with lives just for your own sick amusement."

This was his game.

Sukuna thrived on chaos, on exploiting pain.

He knew my guilt, my fear for her, and wielded it like a scalpel, laying bare the raw nerve of my fragile sanity.

"Perhaps. But ain't I right? You needed to end it, but you lack the guts for it. Waited a bit longer, it'd be a total disaster."

I hesitated, then my grip on him slackened. I stepped back.

"You know I'm right," Sukuna continued. "You know how this would have ended. Suspension. Scandal. She'll be doomed forever for getting involved with her professor for favors. You wouldn't destroy her like that, would you? You're not that cruel."

"I'm not so sure." I ran a hand through my hair. It had taken everything in me to push her away.

But I can't deny that an ugly part of me wanted to keep her close. Drag her down with me.

See her drown.

"Damn, you hit hard," he said, rubbing his jaw. "Go beat up some students again, not me."

"Stop giving me reasons to punch you." Exhausted, I slumped into my desk chair, burying my face in my hands. My head pounded, the infuriating itch worsening with each damn moment. "Was this your plan all along?"

"What?" he scoffed.

I lifted a single eyebrow at him.

"You think that low of me? Honestly, Toru, a bit of credit, please. It was your pathetic indecision that made this entertaining. You basically gift-wrapped this mess and handed it to me."

"Besides," he continued, "let's be honest, you were holding her back. Now maybe she'll have a chance to become someone who might surpass you one day. You wouldn't deny her that, would you? No thanks needed."

He was right, and I hated that more than anything.

Sukuna sank into the chair across from me, a picture of smug satisfaction despite the visible bruise. "Damn, that punch still stings."

I opened my desk drawer and wordlessly tossed him the bottle of opioids. His eyes widened in surprise, before he gave the bottle a knowing shake. "Still on the hydromorphone?"

I didn't answer. The sound alone threatened to shatter what fragile control I had left. The itch was unbearable, each nerve ending screaming for relief.

Sukuna observed me, a predator watching its prey struggle. "Withdrawal never suited you," he said, popping a pill. "You always get so—" he paused, savoring the word, "—tense."

"Yeah, real supportive of you."

"Actually, I'm being incredibly supportive. I'm leaving for a little research trip overseas—four months. Ethics committee can't meet without me, so—" He leaned back in his chair, his grin widening. "Gives you time to get your shit together. Isn't that nice of me?"

"Shut the hell up."

"C'mon, I put in a good word for you too. No suspension for now. You can keep teaching, just no surgeries. Yaga really hates my guts, doesn't he? But hey, at least you're not totally screwed."

"You expect a thank you?"

"Relax, Toru, the show's over," he said. "Trust me, they don't want a scandal, let alone lose their star surgeon. When I get back, a slap on the wrist, maybe a semester's suspension, then you're back to the boring old grind."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Last I checked, you were the one pushing for a scandal."

He rolled his eyes. "Someone had to do it. Knew you'd drag this out forever, playing the tragic hero. Needed a villain to get things moving." He gave a mocking bow. "At your service, my friend."

"Also," he continued, leaning forward in his chair, "the focus is off you now. The committee's sniffing around those implant engineers. Funny, isn't it?"

Sukuna paused, savoring the moment. "Honestly, never thought there was anything wrong with your surgeries. You wouldn't make that kind of mistake. Tech malfunction more likely."

Of course.

The bastard never doubted the damn research. It had all been a game to him — my career, my sanity, her — just pieces on his chessboard.

It should've made me furious, lash out, pound his face in again — but all I felt was a bone-deep exhaustion, a weariness that seeped into my very soul. I was too tired, too hollowed-out to do anything but swallow the bitter truth.

"That supposed to make me feel better?"

"A little," he said, tossing the opioid bottle back. "This, though? That'll do the trick even better."

I caught it, my fingers clenching around the plastic.

He rose, stretching with a theatrical sigh. "Well, time to go. Remember, you owe me big time. You should take one," he gestured towards the pills, "you look like shit."

My grip on the bottle tightened. I looked up at him. "When all of this is done, I never want to see your damn face again."

He laughed. "We both know that's a lie. You and me? We need each other."

"The only thing you need is some damn therapy."

"Ah, Toru," he dismissed me with a smirk, "you'll come crawling back soon enough. We both know how this works."

With that, he was gone. I was left alone in the echoing silence, the pill bottle a burning weight in my hand. The world seemed to sway around me, my eyelids growing heavy.

The will to fight simply wasn't there anymore.

─── ·✧· ───

Cruel.

Cruel how one little pill can undo everything.

Cruel how one little pill can silence everything.

Cruel how one damn pill can soften the world, make it — bearable, almost.

Unfair.

It's truly unfair.

The screaming under my skin, that relentless itch — it's still there, but it had dulled to a faint hum, pushed back by the familiar numbness.

Finally.

Oh, finally some fucking silence.

I let out a shaky breath. It wasn't peace, not really. I knew that all too well. Borrowed time, each second ticking closer to the inevitable crash, the return of that relentless screaming in my head.

But for now, it'll have to be enough.

I collapsed on the couch, smoke curling lazily before my eyes.

I knew I shouldn't mix opioids with cannabis. That's something they teach you within the first year of university. What I used to teach students within the first year of university.

What a hypocrite I am really.

Another drag — harsh, burning down my throat.

The urge to close my eyes, to sink into oblivion, was almost overwhelming. But sleep wouldn't bring respite. Only nightmares. I knew that only too well.

So, I lay there, staring up at the ceiling.

It really came down to me failing again, huh?

What was it now?

Attempt number five?

Six?

I started losing count.

Maybe this was my fate.

A broken record, stuck on the same damn track.

Deep down, under the chemical haze, guilt gnawed at me. It was a dull ache now, no longer the searing pain of earlier, but a constant, insidious reminder.

She were out there, her life forever marked by my choices, while I was — here. Hiding in a haze of pills and smoke.

God, I hoped Suguru was looking after her. Making sure she ate, making sure she was safe — that she didn't hate me too much.

I brought the joint to my lips again, the smoke curling up towards the ceiling. It left an acrid taste in my mouth.

I watched my hand for a second.

Bloodied earlier, the wounds had scabbed over, the blood dried. It was perfectly still now, the trembling smoothed out by the chemicals in my blood.

I clenched it into a fist, then unclenched, watching the movement like it belonged to someone else.

Traitor.

This body was a traitor — betrayed myself, betrayed her, betrayed everything I held dear.

Weak.

Broken.

A pathetic mess.

Was that it?

Living as a slave to these chemicals to patch up my crumbling sanity one day at a time?

Chained to pills, each dawn a ticking clock until the next dose, until I could silence the screaming for a few damn hours?

My eyes locked onto the half-empty vial on the table.

Took too many, didn't I?

I knew that, even through the haze. But a cold certainty twisted in my gut. There'd be more. Always more. Until there was nothing left.

Before I could think, I threw another down my throat. Bad idea, probably, after a few clean days.

Suddenly, the haze warped, twisting into nausea. Bile rose in my throat.

I lurched to my feet, the world tilting precariously with each step. Surfaces rippled, the bathroom light stabbing into my skull.

I barely made it. My stomach heaved. Each retch wracked my body, leaving me gasping, weak.

Too many.

Way too many.

How the hell did I forget? Forget my body's limits? Somehow, I felt like some reckless student again, stumbling through experiments, blind to the consequences.

Stupid. So damn stupid.

Darkness swam at the edges of my vision. Another wave of nausea, and I was back, hunched over the toilet.

I hauled myself up, hands shaking, clinging to the sink. In the mirror, a stranger stared back. Eyes bloodshot, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.

This wasn't me anymore.

I splashed cold water on my face, trying to wash away the acid burn. Didn't help. Drops of water ran down my face, felt like they were melting the damn skin off.

My knees buckled. I slid down the wall, my head heavy against the tile wall.

The bathroom light, needles in my brain moments ago, seemed impossibly distant now. Each breath was a ragged gasp, each pulse a dull throb in my temples.

I waited for it to pass, the nausea, the haze. But as minutes crawled by, a new, searing pain gnawed at me.

My fingers trembled against my abdomen, pressing into the tender spot. Liver, of course.

Wrecked it, just like the rest of me. I'd known the risks, had ignored the warnings, and now my body was demanding payment.

How pathetic.

Darkness gnawed at the edges of my vision, pushing back against the stubborn spots of light. My head felt heavy, detached from my body. Arms and legs useless.

Each breath a battle I wasn't sure I'd win.

Time warped. Stretching, then snapping, leaving me floating in nausea and pain. Then I heard something — muffled, distant. Footsteps, getting closer.

My eyes struggled to make sense of the shifting shadows.

Then, a voice. Soft, achingly familiar. I couldn't make out the words, but the warmth of it—

I knew that voice — would always recognize it.

Cold water hit my skin. Hands, gentle, but firm, on my face. I strained to focus, to see her, to soak in the sight I needed, yet feared more than anything.

Oh, how desperately I needed to see her. Needed her to be real.

But my eyes betrayed me.

She must be so beautiful. She always was.

Then, a touch on my outstretched leg, a flash of metal — was that a scalpel?

Agony ripped through me, shattering the haze. I jerked back, my scream ragged against the tiles. My head slammed back with sickening force.

Before I knew it, a needle pierced my skin.

The room spun as whatever she'd injected battled the comfortable blur of the pills. Nausea churned in my stomach, the numbness receding with terrifying speed.

Groaning, I shifted on the floor.

My vision sharpened, my senses returning with brutal clarity.

The first thing I noticed was the metallic glint of the discarded syringe beside my leg.

Then the cut, a ragged gash through the fabric of my dress pants where she'd stabbed the needle in — the unnecessarily deep and brutal cut — but in the chaos, I let it slide. Didn't even register the pain as I watched the blood drain from the cut.

I reached for the syringe and read the label.

Adrenaline.

Smart girl.

But as I turned it over, a frown creased my brow. Two fucking milliliters? Was she trying to give me a damn heart attack?

I lifted my head, the question burning on my tongue. But the words died unspoken as my gaze locked on hers.

She stood there, just a few feet away, her breath ragged, her eyes — those pretty eyes.

Terror.

There was raw, unadulterated terror etched in her eyes. But I was right. She looked as beautiful as ever. Even with those terror-stricken eyes she was breathtaking.

She stumbled back, slumping against the wall opposite of me with a choked gasp, pulling her knees up. I didn't move, couldn't move, my gaze locked with hers.

The terror faded slowly, replaced by a weariness that was far worse.

For a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of that familiar defiance, the spark I both loved and feared. But even that felt strangely muted now, as if even the energy to fight had been drained out of her.

She simply watched me. In silence, in that devastating silence.

How I hated her silence.

Because her silence was far worse than anything she could have screamed, any insult she could have hurled my way. Her stillness, her silence, was the most terrifying weapon she'd ever wielded against me.

And for the first time in a very long time, I was truly afraid.

Time stretched, then I choked out, "You're angry."

Her answer was blunt, devoid of emotion. "Oh really? What makes you think that?"

I glanced down. Blood still seeped from the gash in my leg. With a trembling hand, I fumbled for a towel and pressed it against the wound. "Your cut is kinda deep. Was that on purpose?"

She didn't say anything.

It probably was on purpose.

My gaze fell on the syringe. "Where'd you get that?"

"What happened to your hand?"

"I asked first."

"Don't try to play games now, Satoru. You're walking on thin fucking ice," she snapped.

"Shattered some glass," I said after a pause ", and punched Sukuna."

"Stole it from the hospital."

"What?"

"You think I'd date an addict and not have adrenaline on hand?"

My lips twitched into a weary smile. Oh my beautiful, brilliant girl, always prepared.

"But you know, two milliliters is a bit much." I moved my leg slightly to check if she had cut any tendons, which would complicate the healing a bit. "Or are you trying to kill me?"

Her gaze pierced me, colder than any scalpel. "Looks like you're doing a fine job of that yourself."

My smile faded.

Silence.

Oh, that cruel silence again.

She didn't say anything. Maybe I should be thankful for that, because if she said anything now, I'd probably crumble completely — if I haven't already.

Ironic, wasn't it?

How much power this woman had over me.

Yet it was me who destroyed her.

She dropped her head, ran a shaking hand through her hair, then looked at me again. "How much did you take?"

Huh?

Why would she ask that?

Didn't she see that it's over?

That I'm too far gone?

It was unbearable.

It was unbearable, how she could still look at me and see someone worth saving. It was unbearable, knowing she believed in me even when I didn't.

Almost pissed me off, how stubbornly she clung to that stupid hope. Because seeing that hope in her eyes — it made me hate myself even more.

I wouldn't change, couldn't. Not for her, not for anyone.

"Doesn't matter. It's over."

"Satoru, please," she choked out, pain raw in her voice, the pain I caused, "cut the crap and tell me. Now."

"It doesn't matter," I repeated, my voice cold. I couldn't bear the flicker of hope, couldn't bear to fail her yet again.

Then, the first tear rolled down her cheek and my heart shattered, the fragments piercing me from within.

I'd never wanted to be the reason those beautiful eyes filled with pain, the reason her sweet lips trembled. Every fiber of my being wanted to pull her close, erase the hurt I'd caused.

I would have given anything, sacrificed anything, if only I could make it stop.

But I couldn't.

Because I was the problem. I was the poison.

She buried her face in her hands. "I'm tired, Satoru."

"I know."

"I'm so fucking tired," she whispered through tears.

"I know, love."

My eyes burned as I watched her fragile body shudder. Each sob of her driving a stake deeper into my already bleeding heart. I bit my lip until I tasted blood.

I hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself, hated myself because — because I was the reason for all of this.

She'd never wanted this, never wanted to fall in love with me to begin with, but I dragged her into it anyway.

Because I was selfish.

Knew how it would end.

And now, I could only watch — only watch in this unbearable silence as the woman I loved wept over the man I hated.

"It's for the best, believe me—"

"No," she cut me off. "You're sacrificing me for this—this reputation of mine you think matters. It doesn't. I don't want any of it without you. I don't want a future where you're not in it."

She looked up then, eyes red and filled with unshed tears. "Because I love you, Satoru."

What?

The words turned my blood to ice.

After everything — the lies, the ways I'd hurt her, the desperate attempts to push her away — there it was, the confession I'd craved and feared in equal measure.

My heart was being ripped apart and stitched back together again in that very moment — vulnerable and yet so unbearably full.

She loved me, she said it.

She loves me.

And I love her.

God, how I loved her. More than I thought possible.

I've never once loved in my entire life.

Not until her.

Not until she changed me completely.

What is that, anyway? Love?

How can I possible describe the type of feeling I feel when I'm with her? How can I ever convey the words when they are not even clear to me?

How cruel it is. How utterly cruel the type of feeling is, that she makes me feel.

Because how could I ever live without it.

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

How to live.

How could I ever go back to what I was before her — was there even something before her?

Not when she showed me how to breathe.

With her.

For her.

Because she is the air that fills my lungs.

The pulse that keeps me alive.

And nothing can ever change that. So how could I ever go back to what I was before?

Oh, how she tortures me, tortures me with feelings I rather not feel, tortures me with her love that I deserve so little.

Nothing.

I deserve nothing and yet she gives me everything.

Why can't I give it back? What chains me, binds this rotten heart? Why does it fail me so cruelly to love her the way she deserves?

Because she does.

She deserves everything.

She is everything.

Yet there is only my own failure in loving her. I'm failing her again and again. I hurt her again and again. I hate myself, hate myself for the pain I cause her.

Still—

How can I let her go, when she's the only good thing in my life?

It is selfish, selfish to say the least, to want to keep her close when all I do is fail her.

Her tears were molten iron searing my insides. But I clench my jaw, refusing to let them break me. If she saw weakness, she might hesitate. Might stay and continue to be broken by me.

Every fiber of my being wanted nothing more than to reach out, to comfort her, to tell her it would all be okay.

More lies for a heart that deserved nothing but the truth. So I swallowed down the love threatening to spill from my lips.

I would give her anything, my life, the last shreds of my sanity — except the one thing she asked for, the only thing she ever ask for.

Because loving her, truly loving her, meant letting her go. Even if it destroys me.

"I spare you," I rasped.

"No." She slowly shook her head. "You're killing me. Can't you see?" There was a cold edge in her voice now. "You're killing me."

"I can't change. Love isn't enough. I can't stop."

"You're the only one who thinks that." Her reply held a flicker of her old, beautiful defiance, a defiance I loved so dearly. "I'd follow you anywhere, Satoru. Even if you can't get clean, then so be it. I don't care. I won't leave you."

The sincerity in her voice was a blow, a beautiful, terrible blow. Complete, unwavering acceptance of who I was, in all my brokenness.

And in that moment, I finally realized.

It wasn't about saving her. It was about saving myself from the terrifying vulnerability her love demanded. From the weakness that threatened to drown me if I let her in.

Perhaps I'm just a coward after all.

My heart was too damn small, too messed up. Of course I had to push her out, deny her the love she offered so freely — because it terrified me.

Her love terrified me.

"I can't do this to you," I choked out, the words scraping my throat raw. "You deserve—" I swallowed, the words catching in my throat. "You deserve better."

"Better?" She leaned forward slightly. "You are my better."

Oh, love, that's not true.

You are my better. I'm your worst.

I wanted to say that, should've said that.

But I remained silent, unable to say anything.

"Say something, Satoru."

I couldn't, simply couldn't. Because mere words were too hollow, too insignificant against the depth of her pain.

"Say something, damn it!"

"It will get easier someday," I chocked out. Each word felt like a stone I was forcing down my own throat. Each word empty — we both knew it.

"Is that what you hope for?"

"I have to."

She closed her mouth. Her silence more devastating than any scream. She didn't explode, as I half-expected. Instead, she straightened, her movements slow, weary.

I watched her, unable to move, unable to look away, as a horrifying realization bloomed across her face. It wasn't anger, wasn't sadness — it was a terrible understanding.

She knew. She always knew.

Perhaps that's what I hated about her the most.

"That's it?" she asked.

"That's it."

She watched me. Not in anger, but with chilling detachment. Her eyes, usually so filled with warmth, were now as distant as those of a stranger.

Still, I burned the image into my soul, knowing it might be the last time.

Then, without another word, she turned. And walked away.

When she finally disappeared from sight, a wave of crushing despair washed over me. It wasn't just the loneliness. It was the terrifying certainty that there was no going back from this.

I had destroyed the best thing in my life — a sacrifice she didn't even ask for.

But then again, my sacrifice is really only an illusion after all, masking a desperate, terrified selfishness.

Because I'm selfish.

I do love her. Gods, how I love her.

But my fear was stronger.

And I was too damn weak to fight it.

─── ·✧· ───

Four weeks.

Was it four weeks?

I can't remember.

Time — it didn't tick or flow anymore.

It was a shapeless thing. Punctuated only by the empty thump of my heart in this wrecked chest.

Those first days — or weeks, who knows? — they melted together in a haze. After she left, I was — raw. One giant exposed nerve.

Each damn breath without the pills felt like scraping sandpaper across it, a reminder of what I'd lost — no, what I'd destroyed.

So I was barely sober.

My body didn't even protest. At first, it was almost — nice? The rush, the way it wiped out not just the pain but any thought at all.

But the crash was always brutal. Mornings, if you could even call it that, I'd wake up shaking, sick to my stomach, and terrified of — what was I even terrified of? Somehow of everything and nothing at all. But I knew the fix for that.

It was a sick, relentless cycle.

The phone rang, vibrated with messages. Suguru mostly. His messages growing more urgent with each unanswered text. Liver issues. Treatment. Something about irreversible damage.

It was all white noise compared to the screaming in my head.

Her name, though, cut through the haze.

There were nights — or was it days? — when a desperate, clawing need to hear her voice, to see her face, would rise up in me. I'd reach for the phone, fingers hovering above her name. Then the fear would crush that impulse.

I knew that reaching out to her would be the final act of cruelty.

So I stumbled on, each day collapsing into the next.

Until the next semester started and I remembered I had an actual job.

─── ·✧· ───

I stood in the corridor outside the auditorium.

My fingers fumbled with the familiar pill bottle. Just enough to numb the edge, get me through the lecture. With a bitter swallow, I tilted the pill into my palm, chasing it down dry.

Four weeks. Four weeks of barely holding it together, four weeks since I almost OD'd, four weeks since she left, and the weight of it all threatened to crush me at any moment.

Yet, muscle memory took over.

I limped slightly as I walked into the auditorium. My leg still hurt after she basically cut my muscle in half.

She definitely did that on purpose. She was too smart not to not know what she was doing.

The usual chatter died down when I walked in. Old routine. Time for the performance. Pretend I'm the professor, pretend like this whole thing isn't ripping me apart, piece by piece. It should have been comforting.

Once, perhaps, it was.

Wordlessly, I grabbed a marker, scrawled my name on the board. Like they didn't already know who I was, right?

Everyone on campus knows, especially after this summer's mess.

With a sigh, I turned towards the class.

And there she was.

My breath hitched, the marker clattering to the floor. My lips parted, but no words came.

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Second-year lecture.

How the hell could I forget that?

She was here, after everything, right in front of me. The pain of the past weeks, that suffocating emptiness — it all melted away, replaced by a pounding headache in that one instant.

My eyes clung to her, unable to look away, drinking in the sight of her. That stubborn tilt of her head, the pain in those beautiful eyes — God, how I'd missed her.

Yet with every beat of my yearning heart came a fresh wave of guilt. I longed to reach out, to apologize, to tell her how much I'd missed her.

But I knew it was wrong.

Then, it hit me. Every eye in the room was on her, following my gaze like a spotlight burning into her. Damn it.

Still, she didn't flinch.

Endured it like she has always endured everything.

Clearing my throat, I managed to speak as I adverted my gaze. "So, uh, let's start the lecture."

My voice echoed in the now tense auditorium, words tumbling out in a forced attempt at normalcy. The lecture blurred. My own words were just noise in my head. I pushed through the lecture. Don't even remember what I lectured about.

It was routine, should have been easy, but — not with her there. Never with her.

Every damn minute, my eyes flicked towards her, drawn like a magnet. I couldn't help it. Because all I could see was her. But she avoided my gaze.

Should've expected that.

Shouldn't make me angry, right?

Still did.

Finally, thank god, the bell rang.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

I remained behind my desk and gathered my notes. Students surged towards the exit, a faceless blur of motion. My traitorous gaze remained locked on her as the auditorium slowly emptied.

She and her friends passed by me. Before I could even think, the words tumbled out, "Wait, not—not you, first-year."

Silence.

Her friend's chatter halted abruptly. I hadn't meant to say it, hadn't thought before the desperate need to speak to her had short-circuited my brain.

Now, it was done.

Her eyes, those beautiful eyes, met mine. For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

Her friends exchanged glances. I could feel Zenin glaring daggers at me, didn't even need to look. She'd always been fiercely protective.

"I'll catch up later," she said then to her friends, a strained smile plastered on her face.

They left, leaving us alone in the vast, suddenly suffocating auditorium.

Silence again.

My heart hammered against my ribs, so loud I feared she could hear it.

Finally, she spoke. "You know I'm not a first-year anymore."

I rounded the desk, the wood rough against my fingertips. "Yeah, right. Sorry." Leaning against it, I crossed my arms.

"Didn't you get suspended?"

"They postponed it."

She watched me for a moment, those beautiful eyes drilling into me. Her eyes held a coldness I've never seen before. For a sickening moment, I thought I might throw up.

"How are you?"

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't ask me that. Don't you dare pretend to care after—"

She stopped herself, the silence louder than any accusation. After everything you did. After you pushed me away. After you nearly killed yourself.

She didn't need to voice it.

My hands clenched into fists against the edge of my desk, nails digging into my palms in a futile attempt to ground myself. Needed to maintain this thin illusion of control.

I do care. Dammit, I care more than you'll ever know.

I wanted to scream it, to tear open my chest and show her the bleeding wound she'd left behind. But the words stuck in my throat.

Pointless now, anyway.

Knuckles turned white, nails digging deeper.

She stepped closer. Her hand darted into her bag, then shot out, palm open. Keys glinted in the harsh light — the keys to my apartment.

I watched them for a second. Should've expected that. Shouldn't hurt me. Still did.

"You don't have to return them. I want you to keep them."

"Why? I won't need them anymore, will I? Or are you planning on overdosing again?"

Each word was acid on an open wound.

I deserved this, the anger, the contempt, it was all on me. But why the hell did it make me so fucking angry?

"Have you ever thought about how I felt when I found you?" she snapped, her voice rising. "How terrified I was when you wouldn't respond? When you couldn't even recognize me? When I thought you'd die on me?" She took a shaky breath. "Fuck Satoru, I held your face in my hands while you were barely breathing!"

I tried to speak, but she cut me off. "Don't. You. Dare."

"Four weeks," she went on, her voice sharp, laced with a fury that cut to the bone. "Four weeks of silence. Ever think I might be drowning, haunted by what I saw? Or were you too busy numbing yourself with pills? Hell, I didn't even know if you'd overdosed for good this time!"

Her words hit me cold, but they weren't the storm tearing me apart. It was the image of her, terrified, holding my barely-alive body, that ripped my insides out.

Those eyes — her eyes filled with a terror that was all because of me. The guilt choked me. Seeing my near-death through her haunted eyes is twisted a knife in my gut.

It was the look of someone who'd had a piece of her soul ripped out.

It was the look of someone who loved me.

"But then again, you never cared about me, did you?" she added, the raw hurt bleeding beneath the anger.

My stomach twisted. "Don't you dare say that," I rasped, the words ripping from my throat. "I care so much it damn near killed me. You were the only thing keeping me alive, the only reason I fought at all! Don't you dare say I don't—" I choked, the pain unbearable.

The room seemed to tilt, my anger threatening to consume me.

I took a step towards her, closing the distance in one move. We were so close, I could smell her damn shampoo. "Every damn thing I did, every stupid decision—it was all because I care about you too much."

Her eyes widened. But only for a second. Then, that cold defiance was back, and it cut deep.

"You're really pathetic, you know that?" she spat. "You talk about caring, but in the end you threw everything away. Because you are too terrified to let yourself love me. Because apparently your own damn peace is worth more than me."

Her words were knives, finding their mark with cruel efficiency.

"Shut up," I whispered. "You know nothing."

"Oh really?" She glared at me, "then let me paint the picture for you—the minute things got difficult, the second you had to face actual consequences for your actions, you used it as an excuse to back away. Shut yourself down."

She moved closer still. "Convenient, wasn't it? Pushing me away, destroying us—it absolved you from having to confront anything real."

Her accusations hit uncomfortably close to home.

And I didn't want to hear it from her lips.

Not from hers.

"Shut up," I growled.

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up," she snapped back, her voice rising. "You don't get to play the victim here. You did this. You ruined everything."

Fury ignited, not at her, but at myself.

Blindly, I reached out, my fingers gripping her jaw so tight it bordered on violence. I forced her to look at me, my eyes burning into hers. "Shut up, or I swear to god, I'll make you."

Her chin lifted, eyes narrowing. "I dare you."

The words set me on fire. Every rational thought, every vestige of self-preservation was devoured by a sudden, desperate need. My gaze fell to her lips, slightly parted, a vulnerable target I craved to claim.

Without even thinking, my hand went to her waist, fingers digging in as I pulled her impossibly close. My other hand tangled in her hair, forcing her head back. Our eyes locked, some kind of messed-up challenge.

I could feel her rapid breaths on my skin, smell that damn perfume of hers that I'd always loved, but now was driving me to the edge of control. Her heart pounding against mine.

Everything in me screamed to close the distance, claim those lips that had haunted me, haunted me for weeks.

I wanted to claim her, to silence her, to lose myself in her, but my last shred of sanity held me back.

Because pushing her further into my nightmare was the ultimate act of cruelty.

"Uncomfortable, isn't it? Getting confronted with the ugly truth?" she whispered against my lips.

My grip on her tightened. She really didn't know when to stop, or maybe she simply wanted to watch me burn. Perhaps both.

"Don't push me."

"Why? Scared of what you'll find if you let yourself be honest for once?" Her head tilted. Her gaze was fire, and I was already ash. "You run, Satoru. From everything, but most of all, from yourself."

"And that," she leaned closer, almost brushing my lips, "is what makes you the most pathetic person I know."

Oh, she could be so viciously cruel when she wanted to. So disgustingly cruel. It was one of the things I'd fallen hopelessly in love with. Even now, as it tore me apart, I still loved it.

But I also wanted nothing more than to fuck that attitude out of her right then and there.

"You're right. You're always right. Maybe that's what's terrifies me about you so much."

"You're not terrified of me," she whispered. "You're terrified of yourself."

The air between us crackled. Every rational thought in my brain begged me to stop. Still, I couldn't resist. I inched closer, helpless against the force that binds and burns us both.

My hands tightened their hold as I took a sharp inhale. Her eyes fluttered shut, lashes trembling.

Our lips hovered, almost touching, two aching souls suspended in that impossible space. So much unspoken words, so much hurt, and the destructive pull between us that had always tethered us together.

Then, the auditorium door creaked open.

Her head snapped towards the sound. But I couldn't look away, wouldn't miss a second of her. Because this, right here, was all I had left.

Had to be Suguru anyway — anyone else would be screaming their heads off by now.

After a pause, she turned back at me. "You know, I'm still waiting."

"For what, love?"

"For it to get easier."

I looked at her, the woman I loved, and guilt clawed at my insides. That hurt, that anger on her face — I deserved it all. Because it was the consequence of the pain I'd caused.

"You said it would get easier," she added.

It was a lie. Nothing about this was easy. Nothing ever would be again. Suddenly, the room felt too small, the air thick and unbreathable.

"I don't know if it ever will."

Perhaps I was only meant to love her in silence.

In distance.

Because at least then I couldn't hurt her anymore.

Suguru cleared his throat. He stepped into the room, breaking the moment.

Reluctantly, I let go of her. She stepped back, eyes holding mine for a second, something flickering there that I didn't dare try to read. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.

I watched her go.

Suguru approached me, stopping close by. He didn't say anything.

I leaned against the desk, running a hand through my hair. The adrenaline from that almost-kiss crashed, leaving behind a hollow ache.

The sound of the door slamming behind her echoed in the empty auditorium, way too loud.

Suguru's hand landed on my shoulder.

"You really have a thing for bad timing," I muttered.

"Bad timing," he echoed, "or good timing to stop you from doing something stupid?"

I didn't answer. The memory of her, so close, choked every thought out of my mind.

"You know it was the right thing to do. With everything going on, letting her go was the right decision."

"I know," I said, pushing off the desk and rounding it to gather my things. I couldn't meet his gaze. "I'm trying to remember that."

Suguru then started placing pill bottles on the desk with a serious expression. The first clink of plastic on wood cut through the silence.

"Prednisone for the liver inflammation." Another bottle. "Lactulose for the hepatic encephalopathy." Then another. "Vitamin B and K for the nutritional deficiencies."

"But you know the first step would be to—" he paused for a second then placed another two bottles in from of me. "Methadone, to manage the withdrawal and craving. And Naltrexone, to block the euphoric effects of your opioids."

Hesitantly, another bottle appeared. "Clonidine, in case you feel like you're dying."

"Suguru—" I began, but he cut me off.

"Satoru, you have to get clean. The pills won't do a damn thing if you keep wrecking your liver."

"Yeah, it's a little late for that, don't you think? It's the only thing keeping me sane right now."

He sighed. "You're the absolute worst patient ever."

"Aw, come on, I thought you liked a bit of challenge. You're the best doctor, you'll figure something out." I rummaged through my bag, pulling out a folder.

"Even the best doctor on earth can't help if you don't—"

I shoved the folder across the desk, cutting him off. "What's this?"

"It's a patient. An anyeurism. I'm still not allowed to do surgery, not until this thing with the ethics committee is over."

Suguru opened the folder, flipping through the pages. "You want me to do it? Is there something special about this patient?"

"I want you to take her with you," I said quietly. "She likes aneurysm clippings."

Suguru looked up, that familiar crease between his brows. "She'll figure it out. Sooner or later. Latest when you're in the hospital waiting for a liver transplant, not lecturing anymore."

Silence stretched. My eyes fell on the pill bottles lined up on the desk.

I sighed, then gathered them and crammed them into my bag. "Let's go. I need fresh fair," I said as I brushed past him, putting the withdrawal meds back into his hands.

Without another word, I left the auditorium.

─── ·✧· ───

My eyes snapped open.

I sat upright, a strangled gasp tearing from my throat. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat threatening to burst right out of my chest.

For a disorienting second, the world was a blur. Sweat drenched my skin. My lungs screamed for air.

Damn nightmares.

Another night of that shit.

I clutched at my chest, trying to quell the frantic pounding. Cold sweat made my shirt cling to my skin. The room spun. My pulse thundered in my ears.

I fumbled for the lamp, the sudden brightness stinging my eyes. But it didn't chase away the image seared into my brain. Her face, cruel, beautiful, cruelly beautiful, twisted in absolute terror. My stomach twisted.

My fault.

Always my fault.

I couldn't breathe right.

Sleep was a lost cause now. First decent rest in a week, and my brain decided to torment me again. Exhaustion was its own kind of hell, but it was nothing compared to this. That, more than anything, was the real torture.

I slumped forward, scrubbing a hand over my face.

I'd hurt her.

I'd hurt her, the one person who meant something.

Every day, it felt more like I'd made the biggest mistake of my life. Letting her go, pushing her away, I—

I hated myself.

Hated the way I ruined everything.

Hated the way I ruined every chance at something good.

It was like a damn curse.

Nothing good ever lasted for me. I should've known that by now.

Damn it, I knew it was wrong. But how the hell could it be wrong when it'd felt so damn right? When she was the only thing, the only person, that cut through the crap, made this whole mess seem like it might have some sort of meaning?

How could that possibly be wrong?

Guilt ate at my insides. Had I been a damn coward? Too scared to fight for something that made me feel, really feel?

Perhaps.

Easier to push her away, sabotage the whole damn thing, than risk actually letting her in. Letting anyone in. Losing control. But it didn't matter now, did it?

It was over.

I needed out. Out of my head, out of this apartment, out of my own damn skin.

The silence was unbearable.

I pushed off the bed, muscles screaming in protest. I slipped into running clothes, the routine automatic. As I laced up my shoes, a sharp sting shot through my leg from the still-healing cut on my leg.

That bitch.

The more I thought about it, the more sure I was she'd done it on purpose.

Good thing I was addicted to painkillers, huh?

I drowned a pill — no two, for good measure — before stepping outside into the pre-dawn chill.

Cold autumn air bit at my skin. Each step echoed on the empty street. The pills kicked in, dulling the sharp pain in my leg. Good. Long as the cut didn't split open, I didn't damn care.

I pushed myself, needing the burn in my muscles, the ache in my lungs, to drown out the constant echo of her voice, her name, in my head.

The world blurred. Streetlights, shadows, it all melded together. The only reality was the ache in my body, the cold air forcing its way into my lungs. My mind, for once, was mercifully blank.

No nightmares, no guilt, no memories of her haunted eyes — just the simple focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

I didn't set a goal, didn't choose a destination.

Just moving, pushing, escaping.

Sweat dripped, but I barely registered. With each mile, the crushing weight eased. Not gone, hell, not even close to forgotten, but — manageable.

I ran until the city was a smear of lights, until my legs burned and my lungs screamed.

Finally, gasping for breath, legs threatening to give out, I stumbled to a halt. The neon lights of a Seven Eleven cut through the pre-dawn darkness. My throat was sandpaper. I pushed through the door.

Inside, the harsh lights stung my eyes. I grabbed a water, my body on autopilot as I shuffled toward the register. The bored-looking teenager behind the counter gave me a sidelong look as I fumbled for my wallet.

"Rough night?"

"Something like that." I glanced down at my leg, the still-healing cut a visible red line. Wincing, I shifted my weight, favoring the uninjured side.

I pulled out my card to pay, but then a flash of color caught my eye. Beside the cashier's register, stacked in a gaudy pyramid, was a display of energy drinks. I starred at them for a second, the name oddly familiar.

I knew why the name was so familiar.

I reached for a can and placed it on the counter. "And this."

Outside, I downed the water in a matter of seconds. Then, I cracked open the energy drink. The first sip hit my tongue. Surprisingly, it didn't taste half-bad without a shot of stale coffee to ruin it.

But the taste wasn't the problem, wasn't it?

Memories flooded back. Her, hunched over a massive anatomy textbook in the dim library, those beautiful eyes ringed with exhaustion. Beside her, half-empty, a mug of coffee — spiked with the sickeningly sweet energy drink I currently held.

Just the thought of that awful mixture made my stomach turn.

Still, a smile tugged at my lips.

Dammit, I didn't want to think about her. But to be fair, thinking, not thinking — it was all the same. The dull, constant ache of her absence throbbed beneath it all.

I chugged the rest of the energy drink, crushing the can in my hand.

Ah, fuck it.

Before my sanity could interfere, my legs were in motion.

I knew this was wrong. Knew every step took me closer to more pain. Knew all along this was stupid, reckless — inevitable.

I couldn't stop.

The pull towards her was too damn strong. I needed to see her, to confirm her existence, to know she was real, to fix — what? What the hell could I fix? What the hell did I even think I was doing?

Finally, gasping for breath, I stumbled to a halt outside her apartment building.

A glance at my watch confirmed the hour — well past 3 am. Insane. I hadn't expected her to be awake. Just needed the pathetic reassurance of her presence. But as I looked up, my breath hitched.

In a second-floor window, a flicker of warm light spilled into the darkness. And there, etched against that warmth — her silhouette. Unmistakable.

A heavy exhale escaped my lips.

She was there.

Here.

On this same cursed world with me.

My heart pounded against my ribs. I knew, I had no right to be here. But god, I needed this, needed to see her.

She sat on the windowsill, book in hand. My future wife. Even in the dead of night, she was studying. How I loved her.

My gaze traced the familiar curve of her shoulders, the way the soft lamplight painted her skin with warmth, highlighting the strands of hair escaping her messy bun.

In that stolen moment, I could almost convince myself that things were different, that my actions hadn't irrevocably shattered something precious.

But then, she moved. Rising from her seat, she stretched, drawing the fabric of her shirt upwards. Before my mind could catch up, she was at the window, pushing it open. I froze.

She was staring down — right at me.

Shit.

I held my breath. For what felt like an eternity, we simply stared at each other. A muscle in her jaw twitched. Then her gaze dropped, breaking eye contact.

"You're bleeding."

I glanced down. The edge of my shorts was soaked through, a fresh stain of crimson spreading. Damn it. The cut had reopened.

"Yeah," I said, looking back up at her, "I'm a mess."

I braced myself for whatever was coming. The anger, the disgust, the righteous fury — it would all be justified. I deserved it. But she simply watched me. Her gaze was steady, devoid of emotion.

"You know where the entrance is," she said finally, then leaned back into the soft glow of her room and closed the window shut.

Before my brain could catch up with how wrong this was, I walked toward the apartment building.

─── ·✧· ───

I sat on the edge of her bed, she on a chair in front of me, her hands already on my leg as she pushed the fabric of my shorts up. "How could you not notice that?"

I opened my mouth, but she cut me off, "Wait, forget it."

Yeah. Now she remembered.

With practiced efficiency, she began cleaning the wound. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, considering how pissed she must be.

The silence was heavy, broken only by the rustle of bandages and my occasional sharp intake of breath when the antiseptic hit a raw spot.

My eyes wandered. Her space, even small and half-finished, felt warm, lived in. Smelled like her. Books spilling everywhere, papers scattered on a desk, a yoga mat forgotten in the corner — the organized chaos was so perfectly her.

Then my gaze landed on the half-unpacked boxes stacked against the wall. She really still didn't fully move in. Occupied with my mess, huh?

Guilt flooded me. I didn't deserve this, didn't deserve her gentle hands on me, not after everything.

Yet, a selfish part of me wanted nothing more than to stay exactly like this, wanted nothing more than to keep her hands on me.

With a sigh, I sank back against her pillows. Exhaustion seeped into my bones. Pain returned as the effects of the pills wore off.

Her fingers brushed the reopened cut. I winced, throwing an arm over my eyes. The relentless pounding in my head threatened to split me open, spilling all the ugly thoughts onto her pristine sheets.

"You've had nightmares again, haven't you?"

Huh?

I lifted my head a fraction, struggling to meet her eyes. She glanced up briefly, her eyes guarded, then focused back on my leg.

"Yeah, something like that." My head thumped back onto the pillow. "Hard to sleep when your head won't shut up."

"What dose?"

"You really don't want to know."

"I asked because I do," she countered. The sharp tug as she tightened the bandage around my leg was enough to make me speak.

"Ten milligrams," I admitted, wincing. "The usual."

She scoffed, then another, even sharper, tug had me gritting my teeth. "Ngh—fuck," I moaned.

I really needed a pill now.

She stood, gathering the first-aid supplies. "Heals slowly, doesn't it?"

I knew it.

I popped myself up on one elbow, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Don't give me that look. You know damn well you deserved it."

I let out a dry laugh. "You really are a bitch sometimes." I dropped back onto the bed, my hand reaching for my throbbing head.

I needed two pills now.

"You've got some damn nerve. You show up here in the middle of the night, injured, high—"

"I'm not high—"

"Save it," she spat. "You know what your fucking problem is? You can't stand being alone. Alone with your thoughts, with yourself. So you run. You run to pills, to whatever distraction you can find, anything to fill the void."

Yeah, how the hell am I supposed to want to be alone after feeling what it's like to be with you, stupid.

"You're too damn scared to face your fears," she continued, her voice laced with a bitter edge, "and when someone threatens your artificial peace, someone who might actually force you to look in the damn mirror, you panic. You sabotage it, push them away before it all gets too real, too close."

She stepped closer. "Because it's easier, isn't it? Safer to stick with the misery you know than risk having to face that void."

Every word stung, but I couldn't deny it, couldn't lie anymore.

"You're right. And I'm sorry—"

"Don't." She rose a hand at me. "Don't pretend you care, Satoru. You've made it clear how little I matter."

How little you matter?

Oh, love, you couldn't be more wrong.

A harsh laugh escaped me.

"You find this funny?"

"No, love," I said, pushing myself up. My leg throbbed in protest, but I ignored it. Everything narrowed down to her. I moved closer, a strange recklessness fueling me. "Quite the opposite."

Something flickered in her eyes — surprise? wariness? — but the anger remained.

"Keep going," I insisted, moving closer. "Let it out. Yell at me, tell me how pathetic I am. Make me feel something, anything other than this damn emptiness."

She hesitated. Her eyes searched mine, and for a breathless moment, I hoped that her fury, her anger, would burn away the numbness, making me feel something, anything.

Because even her anger was better than her indifference.

I couldn't stand being indifferent to her.

Might as well make her hate me.

"You want me to yell at you?" Her voice rose, the first hint of the storm I craved. "Fine! You wanna be a pathetic mess? Go ahead! Piss away your career, your life, whatever the hell you care about, I don't give a damn anymore!"

Each word hit me, but there was a desperate relief in it. Finally, she wasn't looking at me with that chilling indifference, that cold pity that twisted a knife in my gut.

Her rage, it was fire — scorching and brutal, but alive. And I loved it.

Because it was prove she still cared, even if it was just to hate me with every fiber of her being. It was better than the void, that terrible chasm that had opened up between us after I'd pushed her away.

I closed the distance, enjoying the anger in her eyes. She flinched, but didn't back down.

"More." I grabbed her waist, lifting her with ease, and hauled her towards the bed.

"You're weak!" she spat, pushing against my chest, her voice rising with each word.

Yeah, so damn weak for you, love.

"You're selfish! So consumed by your own self-pity you can't see how you hurt everyone around you!"

Her words should have hurt. They probably would have, under different circumstances. But right now, I couldn't care less.

"Keep going," I rasped, my pulse pounding in my ears. I forced her onto the bed and hovered over her, my body trapping her between the mattress and my own. "C'mon, love, let it all out."

"You don't deserve me," she continued. "You don't deserve anyone who gives a damn, because you only know how to destroy things."

Each word was a knife. Yet, with each insult, the suffocating hollowness inside me eased a fraction. I wanted her anger, the full force of it, wanted the burn only she could inflict on me.

"More."

Her breath hitched, eyes narrowing. "You keep breaking my heart over and over, then come crawling back when it suits you, like it doesn't matter!"

"You're right." I leaned in, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip. The thin fabric of her shirt did little to hide her shivers. "C'mon, love, give it to me. I know you can do better."

In one swift move, I ripped my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor. I leaned down again, my breath ghosting over her lips. "Hate me." My hands went for the flimsy waistband of her shorts. "Tell me how much you despise me."

Her breaths came fast, quick gasps against my skin. I could see it all over her face — the rage, the fear, and maybe — yeah, maybe that darker edge, the same desperation burning in me.

"I fucking hate you, Satoru. Hate that you made me care, made me fall for you, then crushed it."

"Don't stop," I said, my voice a hoarse rasp. "Say it again." Before she could react, her shorts were down, exposing her to the night air. My own pants followed hasty, desperate. "Say you hate me."

"I fucking hate that you treat me like I'm just another damn plaything to fill whatever void your messed-up mom or whatever left you with!"

Okay, now it gets personal.

"I fucking hate that you act like you can control me," she hissed, but her body betrayed her, shivered running down her skin as my hands gazed her collarbone. "Hate that you make my choices for me, decide what's good for me, like you got to have control over something when you obviously can't control yourself!"

Damn, Freud himself is on to something tonight, huh? She really doesn't know when to stop.

"You're a fucking hypocrite, you know that?" I leaned closer, my mouth close to her ear. "You hate who I am, but you crave this, don't you? Giving up control, being at my mercy. Admit it."

Her eyes widened, then narrowed. She lifted a hand, as if to slap me, but I was faster. I caught her wrists and pinned them above her head, pressing them hard into the mattress.

"You know it's true," I pressed, relishing the way she struggled against my hold. "It's hard always being the composed one, isn't it? The responsible one. It's draining. Maybe that's why you're drawn to me. You love the thrill as much as I do, don't you?"

She stared at me, silent, her lips a tight line.

"Prove me wrong, sweetheart. Call me a liar, and I'll show you just how wrong you are," I leaned in closer, my voice a harsh whisper against her lips. "We're the same, you and me. We feed off each other. Even if you hate to admit it, I fill that emptiness inside you same as you do for me."

"You arrogant piece of shit!" she spat, twisting and bucking against my grip. "You think you know everything, control everything!"

"Don't I?" My grip tightened, feeling her pulse throb against my fingers. "Seems I've got you pinned pretty damn well, wouldn't you say?"

"You know it's true. You love this. Makes you feel something your books, your fancy grades never could."

"Screw you, Satoru," she hissed, venom in her voice. "We're nothing alike."

"You really are a fool, for wanting to fix something so broken it'll cut you to shreds the moment you get close and then you cry afterwards—"

Her spit hit my face. I closed my eyes for a second, then a smile twisted across my lips.

My future wife just spit in my face — what a good anecdote on our wedding day.

"That's my girl," I rasped, shoving her legs wider. "Tell me how much you hate me. Scream it."

"I fucking hate you Satoru, I hate you—"

Her words died on her tongue as I thrust forward, filling her completely. I closed my eyes, letting my head hang heavy for a second.

My god, the things this woman's body could do to me. I could feel her body trembling beneath me, her heart racing as she arched her back.

How treacherous a body can be, huh?

"Hate you, Satoru," she managed to say before she closed her eyes, biting down her lip as I thrust deeper still. Her thighs spread further apart, inviting me closer, urging me onward.

She's so damn beautiful.

I grinned, my hands still holding her wrists in place over her head. "I know you do, love. But you know what?" My lips were only a breath away from hers. "I hate you, too. I hate how you make me feel, how you expose every broken piece of me, how I crave you like I crave another fix."

Hell, I might just be addicted to this woman.

I pulled out fully, before thrusting back into her. Her head fell back, pressing into the mattress as a strangled moan escaping her lips.

She felt incredible.

Pulling back slowly, I watched her body react to the absence, her eyes flickering open to meet mine. Those pupils dilated with need, mirroring my own hunger for her.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not our fight. Not our problems. Not our insults that had left our lips moments before. Just us — two halves coming together in a perfect whole.

I pushed back into her, deeper, harder.

With each thrust, I felt myself sinking deeper into her, losing myself in her. Fuck, if there was anything better than this — well, I hadn't found it yet.

This woman owned me — plain and simple.

It was madness, this pull towards her.

Insane, perhaps.

But it was also undeniably real. So real that even though dawn threatened to break soon, stealing away whatever remnants of darkness remained, I couldn't help but chase after that high only she could provide.

Even knowing full well that when morning arrived, reality would crash down upon us, forcing us back onto opposite sides of the divide.

"Look what you've done to me, love. You're making a fool of me." I whispered against her lips without touching them.

Weren't together anymore after all.

Kissing would be too much.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath me. Her nails dug into my skin where my hands gripped her wrists. With each deep thrust, I watched her face contort with pleasure and pain, her features illuminated by fleeting streaks of moonlight seeping through the curtains.

I loved that look on her face.

I wondered if I could make that look even more pathetic.

I pulled out, dragging the tip of my length across her clit before pushing back in. She squirmed underneath me, arching her back. But I denied her, keeping my unhurried pace. I wanted to draw out this sweet torture for as long as possible.

Hours passed — or perhaps mere minutes. I couldn't tell anymore. All that mattered was this woman writhing beneath me.

Groaning in frustration, she attempted to break free from my grip. "Dammit, Satoru. If you won't finish what you started, then get off me!"

I smirked. "Why so eager, love. Can't handle the wait?" I leaned in to kiss down the side of her neck. She shivered beneath me, her breath hitching as my teeth grazed her skin.

With my free hand I reached down, running my fingers down her quivering stomach, relishing in the shivers that coursed through her body.

She glared up at me, her eyes narrowing dangerously. "Stop calling me 'love'. I don't belong to you, not anymore—"

She gasped into my mouth when I found her clit. Slowly, deliberately, I began to circle it with my thumb, feeling her surrender to me. I plunged deeper, thrusting into her mercilessly.

Let her hate me all she wants. She can't deny the chemistry between us — a spark that refuses to fade, no matter how hard either of us tries.

She must have hated this — hated how she surrendered to me, even with all that anger. Made me wondered if I could rail her up even more.

"You think you're so much better than me?" I rasped. "So strong, so selfless, always putting others first? It's a lie, and you know it. You're just bored."

"You fucker!" Before I knew what was happening, she broke free of my grasp and had flipped us over so that she was now straddling my hips.

Without warning, she reached forward, gripping my throat with surprising strength as she leaned down, her hair falling like a curtain around our faces. I couldn't help but smile.

"Don't project your bullshit on me," she seethed, her face inches from mine.

Her words sent a chill down my spine, stirring up a fresh wave of desire within me. Damn, this woman was infuriating — and captivating in the worst way possible.

We glared at each other like enemies preparing for battle.

"Aren't you a little tired? Pulling up that act all the time?" I choked out, feeling her fingers dig in further. "Deep down, you're just as bored as me, you're just too righteous to admit it."

"Shut up," she hissed, pressing harder, choking the words out of me.

This was madness. Destructive madness. But for this one desperate moment, I didn't care. It was exhilarating, addictive. Because love, our twisted, broken love, wasn't supposed to be pretty.

It was messy, chaotic, and borderline abusive. But sometimes all you need is a firm grip around the throat to remind you that you're alive.

"Harder, love," I gasped, a laugh bubbling up in my constricted throat. "Come on, make me feel your rage."

Slowly, deliberately, she began grinding her hips against mine, setting a maddening pace that left me reeling. Fuck, I think I love it even more when she hates me.

"Ahh, shit," I gasped, clutching at her thighs as she rode me mercilessly. "That's it."

Eyes squeezed shut, my head rolled back. Chills prickled my skin, possibly due to the cool breeze drifting in from the window. Or perhaps it was merely her.

She rode me with increased speed, and I could barely contain the overwhelming sensations coursing through my body. Every fiber of my being screamed for release.

My knuckles on her thighs turned white from the force. "Oh, shit, you're going to kill me," I moaned between choked sounds that escaped my lips.

My lips twisted into a smile again. "Admit it. You love the chaos as much as I do. The thrill, the way it makes you feel alive."

"You're wrong," she said, increasing her pace making my cock twitch inside her. "We're nothing alike."

"Keep telling yourself that," I replied, struggling to catch my breath, as she made me lose my mind. "But I know the truth—we're two sides of the same coin."

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"Why else would you be here, like this, with me?" I countered. "Face it, we're addicted to each other—the highs, the lows, the constant push and pull. It's exhilarating, isn't it?"

"You're the only addict here."

"Liar," I rasped.

Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She was close. Each contraction of her pushing me further towards a peak that I knew would soon shatter me.

But I wasn't ready yet. Not quite.

I shifted our positions, sitting upright before spinning us around so she was now beneath me on the mattress. I positioned myself behind her, forcing her down onto the mattress.

I slowly slid my hand along her spine as I pushed her further down, feeling her tremble beneath my touch, the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips.

It was intoxicating to watch her submit to me.

"Fuck, you'll be the death of me."

Leaning down, I pressed my lips against the small of her back, feeling her shiver once more. My hand continued its descent, stopping just short of where she needed me.

"Satoru," my name fell from her lips.

Oh, how I loved it when she breathed my name like that. I couldn't resist her — could never resist her. I was at her mercy. Even now.

She arched her back, silently pleading for me to continue. I slid my hand between her legs. "God, you're so fucking wet," I murmured, slipped a finger inside her, then another. She was so tight, so warm.

I couldn't wait to be inside her again.

She gasped, pushing back against me. "Don't stop."

Curving my fingers, I searched for that spot that I knew would drive her mad. When I found it, she cried out, her hips bucking against my hand. Her hands scrabbled at the sheets, grasping for purchase as I started to move inside her.

"Yes, fuck," she moaned, spreading her legs wider. "Right there."

Oh, love. I know you like that.

I smiled, relishing the fact that I knew her body better than herself. I knew every inch of her, every freckle, every scar, every sensitive spot that made her squirm.

"More," she begged.

I happily obliged, adding a third finger and thrusting deeper. She was soaking wet, her juices coating my fingers as I fucked her with my hand. Her moans grew louder, more urgent. She was close, so close.

I increased the pace of my fingers, pumping them in and out of her as I used my thumb to apply pressure to her clit.

However, as her moans reached a fever pitch, I withdrew my fingers, denying her release.

She gasped, glanced over her shoulder at me, her mouth open, but said nothing — probably out of breath.

I brought my fingers to my mouth, savoring the taste of her. It was so uniquely her. I couldn't get enough.

Leaning in, I pressed my body against hers from behind, my hard length probed at her entrance.

I leaned down over her, my hand snaking into her hair. I grabbed it tightly, forcing her head up to meet mine. "I love you, first-year," I murmured against her ear.

She trembled, but her defiance remained strong. "I hate you."

I sighed — always so fierce, makes me wonder what it takes to fuck that stubborn attitude out of her.

"It's alright, I love you enough for both of us."

With that, I pushed her head down into the mattress. Her cry muffled by the sheets beneath her as I thrust into her once more, bottoming out inside her with a groan.

I began to move in and out of her. Faster now, harder until the headboard slammed against the wall. Her muscles clenched around me, drawing me deeper inside her. She clawed at the sheets beneath her, her moans muffled by the fabric.

As her cries grew louder, I quickly pushed her face further into the mattress. "Quiet, first year," I murmured as I angled myself to rub against her G-spot, making it harder for her to keep quiet. "Wouldn't want to disturb anyone in the middle of the night, would we?"

Neither of us spoke a word — not that she could but — perhaps because there was nothing left to say. Instead, we communicated solely through our actions, saying everything that needed to be said without opening our mouths.

I increased both the pace and pressure. Nearly causing her to fall forward hadn't I held her in place with one hand on her waist and one sill in her hair. Her breath hitched, her entire body tensed as she approached her breaking point.

Oh, how I loved feeling her tighten around me.

Bringing her closer to the edge was a thrill like no other. Watching her lose control, hearing her cries and moans, feeling her body tremble beneath me — it was intoxicating.

I could feel myself getting closer to the edge, my balls tightening as I approached my own release.

Her cries grew louder, more urgent, until finally, she shattered around me, her orgasm triggering my own.

With a final thrust, I emptied myself inside her, filling her completely. Her contractions milked every last drop from me, her body still quivering around me.

I stayed inside her, savoring the feeling. It might be the last time.

I was panting, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I tried to catch my breath. My cock was still twitching inside her. Reluctantly, I pulled out with a low moan.

I stayed behind her for a moment longer, admiring the curve of her waist, the sheen of sweat on her skin in the sliver of moonlight.

Don't know when or if I'll ever see that again.

Time seemed to stand still, suspended indefinitely as we tried to find our breath again.

Then she turned her head. "You're a fucking idiot," she finally said.

"Tell me something I don't know."

She shifted to face me, her expression serious. "Promise me something."

"Anything you want, love."

"Promise me, you won't kill yourself with your pills."

I swallowed hard. That's not what'll get me, I thought, as I felt a sharp pain lancing through my right side.

I moved closer, cupping her face with my hands that trembled slightly. For an insane moment, I wanted to kiss her, but I knew I couldn't — couldn't ever again. "I promise," I rasped.

The words heavy with a lie we both knew.

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

author's note: wooooaaa, another insane!gojo chapter lol. this chapter really killed me, was crying, screaming, throwing up while writing.

i'm equally scared and excited to hear what you think about todays chapter, ngl. originally i didn't plan a smut scene in this chapter, but you know, somewhere down that line gojo just happened and here we are.

also like, i think now both their's darkest secrets are now out — in the worst way possible. also because i keep getting messages regarding how much chapters are left of the story, idk i write form chapter to chapter. we're down somewhere the 60—70 % line with the story i guess, but we'll see. still more to uncover of gojo's past and all that.

also sorry for the people asking of for more fluff and happy moments, ehhh, there will be some in the future?? also i'm still sticking to the plan of a happy ending, so don't worry!! gojo fucked up big time and the next chapters will center about him trying to fight his fears and get shit together — let's see if he can do that. curious myself.

so thank you so so much for sicking by with the story. sending kisses to all of you lovely people seeing me messages, leaving likes, comments and reblog stuff. it really makes my heart happy everything i see a notification. love you all sm!! ♡

okay my last note, just so you know, i'm going on vocation soon, so the next chapter will be a bit delayed again, sorraaaayyy!! wishing you a great day or night and an awesome weekend ahead! ♡

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