Latest Posts by vitzi9 - Page 2

messy stuff

Hello🤗❤️

I hope you are well🌹

Can you help me get my voice heard

and share my family's story?🙏🏻

Can you Reblog my pinned post from my blog or donate 10$?

By helping to reblog my story, you could

save a family from death and war.🌹

Thank you very much🌸

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Donate to Help Mosab saving who's left of his family, organized by Mohamad S

Hello Everyone, I am Mohamad S. I am organising this fundraiser to a good friend … Mohamad S needs your support for Help Mosab saving who's

the voices... of course, I had to make this AU??!

I LOVE BEING A LESBIAN IN THIS TIME LINE

not me reading a vi x reader fic chilling out until ELLIE THE FUCKING WILLIAMS SHOW UP guys?!?!??!??!!? omh ellie being the lesbian jackson wang it kill me

hey everyone be careful

I don't know if anyone has talked about this, but lately this has been happening in other fandoms too. There'll be these bot accounts that straight up steals people's posts and adds "expand" "read more" "continue" as a link in the end of the post - DON'T CLICK ON THAT, it's most likely a malware or something of the like.

so if you see a post like this: no profile picture, something that looks reposted (I've seen this happening to artists too) and a link at the end, even if the post has tags, that's a bot. Block and report it.

stay safe, and I hope @staff finds a way to stop these bots soon!

— come a little closer

hockey jock!vi x tutor!reader, fluff / humor / angst / kinda slowburn / smut (18+ mdni!), wc: 16k+ [buckle your seatbelts bc i could not shut the fuck up about vi if i wanted to !]

synopsis: you’re many things; an exemplary student, quiet and well-mannered, loved immensely by those who bother to get to know you, but most importantly, the newfound object of superstar athlete vi’s every affection. or, in other words, hockey jock!vi is lowkey a loser, atrociously down bad, and will stop at nothing to make you hers.

content warnings: language (duh), brief mentions of familial issues, latent insecurity, miscommunication & lack of communication, kissing, groping, SEX! mdni, seriously, i’ll THROW UP!, more specifically fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), spitting, makeup sex idk, just good old fashioned lesbian BANGING! also! jazz cabbage, lets pretend for the sake of this au that student athlete’s don’t get tested bc i NEED hockey jock!vi to hotbox reader PLS.

fic soundtrack: i could imagine —alina baraz /snooze — sza /tonight — summer walker / pressure — james vickery + sg lewis / wish that i could — umi

author’s note: of course it’d be arcane s2 that resurrects me from my almost yearlong hiatus...pls enjoy this fic even though i’m pretty rusty; she’s been cooking in the drafts for weeks T-T i’ll be answering some (very long overdue) asks and chatting with you guys <3 and finally, this shit is barely proofread bc my brain is fried lol

main masterlist | arcane masterlist

VI HAS A HUGE PROBLEM.

One that supersedes every issue she’d ever given weight to in all of her four (and a half) years of university. Is way larger than twice-a-day practices on and off the ice that go hand-in-hand with studying so hard to make sure that her grades don’t slip a fraction. Probably way bigger than the fact that her little sister’s graduating high school soon and she’s trying her absolute best to be as great a role model as she can despite wanting to crack under the pressure. And most definitely bigger than her favorite on-again-off-again fling, Cait Kiramann, whose rare to come by these days.

Vi has a huge problem, and quite frankly, it’s you.

In hindsight, she’s been relatively good at overlooking you, not that it’d been intentional to begin with, but Vi knows a lot of people. Too many, she feels sometimes. So it's easy for you to slip through the cracks when everyone’s vying for even a shred of her attention.

Perhaps it’s what piques her interest when your orbits finally do collide. Because, admittedly, you know all about Vi. Know that she’s probably one of the most valuable players on the uni’s hockey team (she’s an absolute beast on the ice). Also know that she’s a biomedical physics major and actually incredibly smart. But most of all, you know that not only is Violet a flirt, she’s a player.

Not necessarily that you’ve ever really been on the receiving end, but mostly because her reputation precedes her and you’ve seen it all from a distance. Can't not when the decorated hockey star is such a charmer whether she intends to be or not. Vi has girls both certain and questioning stumbling for a single glance.

You often think it’s pitiful, but it’s not like it’s really your problem.

Until it is.

It all starts at The Afterparty.

Hours after a big victory in the first game of three that solidifies whether the university hockey team participates in the championships, Violet is the star of tonight’s celebration.

She’d sunk the winning shot, and for that she’s being poured shot after celebratory shot. By eleven she’s practically hammered and it’s when her teammate, Ellie, and the captain, Abby, finally show up.

The three of them together, drunk, is like a minefield of obnoxious laughter, dirty innuendos, and rowdy behavior.

And for a while it’s funny, has Vi feeling like she’s on cloud nine, but eventually, the drunken high begins to evaporate and she starts to feel a little overwhelmed.

The spotlight shifts and even though Vi typically preens under the attention, she’s grateful to finally breathe.

With a plastic cup full of water, she’s sliding the back door open and stepping out onto the back patio to take in the cool air for a breather.

She makes a move towards the stairs, but nearly jumps out of her skin when she registers the silhouette at the base of the steps.

“Jesus, fuck,” Vi hisses to herself. “You scared the shit outta me.”

You don’t even spare her a glance over your shoulder, just take a sip from your drink.

“Sorry,” you hum passively.

She catches her breath, doesn’t even bother to ask permission as she drops all of her weight next to you.

The step creaks under pure muscle.

Her strong legs stretch out, elbows settling back against the step up as she waits. And waits. And waits.

The amount of silence that lapses is unusual, uncharacteristic for Vi, especially so because people are typically babbling enough to fill the void when it comes to her.

But you just sit there, nursing your beer and staring up at the stars. The moon hangs half in the sky, softly illuminating the planes of your features.

It’s her first good look at your face and Vi’s definitely drunk, but the immediate thought that comes to her mind is pretty, pretty, pretty. Undeniably and painfully pretty. And not Caitlyn pretty, the only girl she’s ever really used as a benchmark, but intimidatingly so in your own right. Makes her swallow hard, throat bobbing as she watches you unapologetically.

“It’s rude to stare, Violet,” you say simply, eyes finally flitting to meet hers.

Her breath catches in her throat, earthy flecks dancing in your moonlit irises. God, your eyes. Framed by thick lashes and round as you look up at her.

“You know who I am?” she asks stupidly as if point fives of her face aren’t blown up into memes and plastered all over the house.

“Who doesn’t?” you ask, breathing a puff of humorless laughter as you crush the can in your ringed fingers.

And perhaps you got her there, but Vi’s feeling exceptionally small under your gaze despite usually filling out a room. Something about you makes her shrink.

“I— fuck,” Vi stumbles, cheeks red because you’re looking at her with an indecipherable gleam in your gaze that has her squirming. “What’s your name?”

She cringes at herself, rolls the piercing in her nose once, twice, for comfort.

You laugh again, a little more genuine this time because, from a distance, the athlete’s usually so suave, undeniably gorgeous and composed. Right now, the girl in front of you only ticks one of those boxes.

“________,” you offer.

She weighs the name on her tongue, decides she likes it a lot, and tries to shake off whatever this feeling you’re giving her is.

“And you go to school here?” she asks.

You nod once.

“Neuroscience, fourth year.”

“Huh, we’re in similar fields, but I’ve never seen you around,” Vi observes. Because she’s certain she’d bookmark a face like yours, absolutely no doubt about it.

“We had organic chemistry together sophomore year with Dr. Talis,” you say matter-of-factly, like you’re not blowing her mind right now. “And I’m auditing Medarda’s biometry class this semester.”

Vi’s floored.

“Wait, wait, but...” She’s trying to piece the puzzle together, but her brain’s still a little fuzzy, equal parts from the alcohol, but also because she’s caught a whiff of your perfume and you smell so sweet.

“I pop in every once in a while,” you tell her. “But I tutor in that time slot every Tuesday and Thursday, only really go when I don’t have any appointments.”

“Hold on, this is nuts,” Violet says, body easing to face you. You flinch because she doesn’t realize she’s practically yelling. “There’s no way, I definitely would’ve remembered you if that was the case.”

You hum, corners of your lips quirking as you shrug your shoulders.

“Doubt it,” you counter. “I’m nothing particularly spectacular.”

“Nothing particularly spectacular,” Vi repeats under her breath.

And under normal circumstances, she’d be flirting up a storm right now, trying to charm her way into getting you to bite, but this is one of the first semblances of normalcy she’s experienced in a while. No ulterior motives, no exaggerated kindness, no outright asking her to fuck.

Suddenly your phone lights up in your lap and you’re turning your attention to the device.

“DD duties call,” is all you say as you make a move to stand up.

No, this can’t be all she gets from you tonight. Not when she’s been narrowly missing someone like you for the past four years and you’re just now coming to light.

The dormant liquid courage bubbles and Vi’s gently grabbing your wrist to pull you to a stop.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” she asks, steely eyes liquid as she stares up at you.

You eye the scar on her lip, gaze lingering there before flitting to meet hers.

“Maybe.”

Vi decides that she needs to see you again.

You’d left her with crumbs this past Friday night and she’d spent the better part of the weekend trying (and failing) to cross paths with you again.

“Jesus, you’re down bad,” Ellie chuffs Monday morning on their walk to the campus coffee shop.

“You don’t understand,” Vi defends. “She’s so...so...”

“So?”

“Different, I dunno,” Vi sighs, fiddling with the strap of her backpack as they walk. “We didn’t even talk about much, but that was the most normal I’ve felt around someone in a while.”

Her teammate snorts.

“Probably the gayest thing I’ve heard you say,” Ellie deadpans. “She isn’t immediately trying to munch and you’re already in love. Pathetic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Vi scoffs as they approach the coffee shop, inside packed full with half-functioning college students so early in the morning. “Trust me, if you met her, you’d—”

The words die in her throat because halle-fucking-lujah, the universe or god, or whatever has answered her every prayer this past weekend as she clocks you a few paces ahead in line.

Ellie follows her friend’s line of vision to find exactly what she’s staring at and she lets out a low whistle when her gaze finds your frame.

From a completely aesthetic standpoint, she can see why Vi’s immediately hooked.

“Hah,” she makes a noise in her throat. “Okay, so maybe it makes sense.”

Vi can’t help but stare because, if it were possible, you were far prettier under the warm lighting of the cafe’s ambiance. The curls of your hair frame your face beautifully and it’s so fucking cute how focused you are on your phone.

“Hate to break it to you, though. That girl’s way out of your league,” Ellie says like it’s common knowledge.

“Wow, way to boost my ego,” Vi mutters drily.

“Just being realistic,” Ellie argues. “If you bag her, she’s easily the hottest girl you’ve been with.”

And Vi can’t really contest that, not when the proof’s in the fucking pudding.

Her body’s moving of its own accord and before she can register her own actions, she’s mumbling quiet s’cuse me’s under her breath as she squeezes between patrons to close a bruised hand over your shoulder.

You nearly jump out of your skin, fumbling with your phone as an earbud falls out.

“Shit, sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Vi says quickly.

Your gaze snaps to her, brows furrowing almost imperceptibly before your expression settles.

“Violet,” you acknowledge.

And she realizes that she didn’t really have a game plan coming up to you so abruptly. Had been so focused on actually just seeing you again, that she hadn’t thought through the rest of it.

The way you stare up at her is thoroughly disarming because she doesn’t have the shield of night or alcoholic courage to carry her through it.

“Can I help you?” you ask, but not unkindly.

“Oh, uh, I...” She chances a glance over her shoulder to find that Ellie is watching her from a few customers away, eyebrow cocked and smirk testing. She word vomits before she can think of a coherent thought. “You mentioned tutoring...the last time we talked.”

You don’t even bat an eye.

“I did.”

“You’re also auditing Medarda’s biometry class.”

“I am.”

“I’m...I’m not really doing too hot in Medarda’s right now,” Vi says, brain nearly short-circuiting and freezing up because, lie! She’s doing phenomenally in Medarda’s session and, truthfully, she’s just downright scared to ask you to hang out.

Especially when you look up at her like that.

You shift and she’s swallowing down around nothing.

“Hmm, can’t have that, can we?” you hum.

Vi could melt.

“No,” she breathes out a laugh. “Can’t.”

“You can sign up for a slot through the library’s website,” you say after you weigh the thought.

Vi’s pausing, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“So I can get paid?” you fill in.

“Oh, right,” Vi chokes. “Right.”

You give her a soft smile before plugging your earbud back in, leaving Vi to rejoin her obviously amused friend.

“You’re fucking joking!”

The librarian gives you and your incredulous roommate a look from the circulation desk and you return it with a sheepish smile from where you’re tucked by a wall of looming floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Maddie,” you whisper.

“You’re telling me that The Violet asked you personally to tutor her?” Maddie asks you, leaned over the tabletop with wide eyes.

“Yeah, cornered me at Brew House this morning and asked me to tutor her in Medarda’s class.”

“Just that?” she asks. “Nothing else?”

You look around in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah?” you scoff. “What else would she want?”

“What else would she— are you serious?” Maddie leans back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest as she gives you a plain look. “You know all about Vi, you’re actually gonna play stupid?”

“Oh, come on.” You roll your eyes. “You’ve seen the girls Violet’s fucked, right? Kiramann? The blonde from the tennis team? She’s got a type and you know it.”

It’s Maddie’s turn to roll her eyes and you see the exasperated groan she’s staving off.

“None of that self-deprecating bullshit—”

“It’s not self-deprecating!” you argue. “Not everyone wants to fuck Violet, Maddie. Put me in the number one spot.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Don’t start.”

“All I’m saying is that anyone with eyes can see that Vi’s hot as fuck. That being said, you’re also hot as fuck. Not only that, but rumor has it, she gives the most toe-curling—”

You’re rolling your eyes again, gaze fluttering out the window momentarily only to find that, speak of the devil, Violet’s approaching the library with a skip in her step.

Maddie stops her spiel to trace your gaze and nearly falls out of her seat when she finds the object of your conversation is advancing, fast.

“No fucking way,” you whisper to yourself, pulling up your tutoring log on your tablet to find that, yup, Violet has most-definitely taken your advice and signed up for a tutoring slot.

If the time reads correctly, you’ve got three minutes before she’s due to be taking Maddie’s seat.

Your friend is grinning at you mischievously, stuffing her backpack quickly to vacate the space across from you.

“Un-fucking-believable,” you scoff, slumping back in your seat.

“Tell me how it goes,” she giggles, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stands.

“Maddie,” you warn.

“Love you, see you at home!”

Violet’s strolling into the library just as Maddie leaves through the other doors and try as you might make yourself small in the open air near the research center, her gaze falls on you as soon as she enters.

“Hey,” she breathes once breaches your vicinity.

“Hi.”

A moment lapses before you’re nodding towards the seat before you.

“We can get started whenever you’re ready.”

Right. Right! Vi’s mentally cringing, pulling the chair out with a squeak and dropping onto the worn cushion.

Her eyes are locked, watching as you pull the biometry textbook from your little messenger bag.

“Any particular areas you’re struggling in?” you ask, flipping to a clean sheet of paper in your notepad and clicking open your pen.

Vi combs her brain, tries to think of anything she’s not really grasping in Medarda’s class, but she’s been acing all the exams with flying colors, so she spits out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Logistic regression, probably,” she answers.

“In relation to...?” You tilt your head and Vi’s breath is hitching.

“The Confusion Matrix,” she answers, even though she knows all about it.

It’s only when you start breaking it down from the bare bones that she realizes that she could listen to you talk for-probably-ever.

You obviously have a great understanding of the subject if the way you deconstruct the relationship between sensitivity and specificity (or whatever the fuck) is anything to go by, and she doesn’t realize that she hasn’t even blinked until you’re glancing up at her.

“Am I making any sense?” you ask softly, taking in the almost confused look on Violet’s face.

“Huh?”

Vi snaps out of it, cheeks coloring pink when she notes the way you straighten in your seat.

“Am I going too fast?”

“No, no!’ Vi practically shouts before chancing an embarrassed gaze around the library to find a few wandering eyes. She clears her throat and tries to relax. “No, you’re doing great. I get it.”

You don’t seem convinced, but the faster you get through the material, the faster Violet can leave and you can finally catch your breath.

Because maybe Maddie’s a little right. That while you know, one hundred percent, without-a-doubt, that you and Violet are cut from two different cloths and that you ultimately won’t mesh, there’s still a sliver of want that settles somewhere confined in the pit of your gut.

You don’t know how long you continue before you notice that sun has begun to set in the horizon, but Vi’s effort is unwavering. She’s probably on her tenth practice problem by now and so far, she’s only flubbed once.

You decide to fold your cards first.

“O-kay,” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as you roll your shoulders and squeeze your hands shut so tight your knuckles crack. “This is a good stopping point, don’t you think?”

No, Vi could keep going forever if it meant hearing you talk all night, but the little G-shock wristwatch winks the time and she realizes that the two of you have been going at it for going on two hours and you’re probably exhausted.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so long,” Vi says sheepishly. “Thanks a lot for your help, I...”

You look up from where you’re shuffling your papers together, pausing when she hesitates.

“I really appreciate you. I know you probably help dozens of people every week and—”

She stops talking when she sees you crack what seems to be the first genuine smile she could get out of you since Friday.

“It’s my job, Violet,” you tell her. “I’m happy to help.”

And she’d done well enough during the tutoring session, had a successful run with the practice problems. You were confident it was just a one and done. Perhaps served as a review for the upcoming exam Medarda had posted on the class page.

But then you see her name in the final time slot on Thursday, don’t really think much of it until you’re tabbing to next week’s schedule for shits and giggles. Tuesday and Thursday are booked through again, her name highlighted in yellow.

You minimize the calendar and pull up the aggregate schedule only to find that every 4 o’clock slot every Tuesday and Thursday’s been booked until the end of the semester.

You refresh for good measure.

“Oh, you’re so shitting me.”

You don’t know what kind of joke this is, if Violet thinks that this is funny, but you’re not amused.

Especially when you’re stalking all the way to the athletic hall, ignoring the wolfish stares from shameless student athletes to whip into the women’s hockey team’s reserved conditioning space.

You find her benching near the center of the room, Abigail Anderson spotting her while the rest of the team engages in various workouts and exercises.

A hush ripples over the weight room as you approach the hockey star, standing at the end of the bench where her knees are bent. One of Abigail Anderson’s eyebrows quirk up as you stand there with your hands on your hips and you hope the chill that runs down your spine as she checks you out doesn’t visibly vibrate your body.

When the barbell nearly crushes Vi’s chest on her last rep, Abby’s quick to help her re-rack and takes the biggest step back as Vi sits up.

Her expression falls and her face pales when she locks eyes with you, your features severe and gaze stony.

“Oh, hey,” she squeaks.

Truthfully, she hadn’t really pinned you as the type to be confrontational. Thought she’d have enough time to build a strong enough story as to why she booked out all of your tutoring sessions when in actuality she panicked when Ellie started grilling the fuck out of her about being a fucking pussy and begging her to just ask you out.

“You have some explaining to do, Violet.”

And she should definitely be embarrassed, not at all turned on, but she can’t help it as she gulps. Because when you stand before her like this, she can easily admit that she’d die for a private version of the view.

The silence in the weight room is palpable and you want to back down, but if this is some running joke and Vi’s going to make a show of humiliating you in front of her teammates, then you’d give her a show.

“Violet.”

Someone in the back snickers, another whistles, and Vi’s cheeks go red.

She’s standing, sweaty hands closing around your biceps as she spins you around and quickly guides you out of the conditioning room and out of her teammates’ line of ogling sight.

“V—”

“I’m sorry,” Violet splutters. “I’m just not really confident in Medarda’s class right now and I don’t trust myself to study alone, plus you’re a really good tutor and—”

“You do realize that those tutoring sessions are added to your tuition, right?” you ask incredulously. “It’s fifteen dollars an hour.”

Vi’s smile is crooked.

“That’s what my scholarship’s for,” she grins.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?” you try again. “I feel that before an exam for a little refresh is fair, but this would be like relearning the material after every class, all over again.”

“If it’s taught by you, I’ll take it,” Vi says quickly, and you pause because what does she mean by that?

You don’t really have much rebuttal left even though you’d marched up here with a fire under your ass. Vi’s looking down at you with a softened edge in her gaze and she’s wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants and sweat-soaked grey tank that reveals swathes of ink that curls up her arms and disappears under the fabric of her shirt.

She breathes out a small laugh when she notices the way your eyes dance.

“Anymore concerns, cupcake?”

Your gaze snaps to hers and her grin widens when she sees you fidget, little pet name obviously eliciting a semblance of a reaction from you.

“N-No,” you stammer.

“Great, see you tomorrow?“

You swallow.

“Okay,” you agree. “See you tomorrow.”

Violet pops into the library at four on the dot.

Her hair’s wet from an obvious shower and you smell her, warm like honey and cedar as she takes the seat across from you.

“Afternoon, cupcake,” she greets, slinging her backpack into the seat next to her.

You give her a warning look, but she just flashes you a toothy smile and nods towards the opened biometry textbook before you.

“What’s the lesson today, Teach?”

And this feels an awful lot like mocking, but you can’t be sure, not when Vi’s been somewhat respectful, sweet even.

“What do you know about the the sigmoid function?” you probe.

“Jack shit,” she laughs.

And maybe you’d find it endearing if the entirety of the situation wasn’t still absolutely mindfucking you at moment.

“Can I ask you something, Violet?” you ask, leaning back in your seat as you cross your arms to level her with as an intimidating look as you can.

“Sure, anything.”

“Are you messing with me?” you ask. “Is this some joke you and your friends are playing? Because I can’t really think of an outcome that would be funny.”

And you’d like to say that the look of horror on Violet’s face is consolation enough, but you know how being loved and being popular can make people act sometimes.

Vi contemplates telling you the truth, that she’s too chickenshit to ask you out, that getting close to you in any other way scares the fuck out of her. That maybe getting you to tutor her will segue into some form of friendship that’ll allow her to ease her way in. And maybe she’s going about it the hard way, but maybe Vi also likes a challenge.

“No jokes, just bad at statistics,” she says weakly.

You’re silent for way longer than comfort allows before you turn your attention to the textbook and Vi’s letting out a breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding.

“Fine,” you give in. “Let’s talk about sigmoid function and practice some applications...”

Vi’s happy to listen, goes through your preselected practice problems with ease (and maybe fucks up a value or two here and there to really sell her need for you). But the sun’s going down again, and it’s nearing six when Vi folds her hand this time around.

It comes in the form of her stomach grumbling in the emptying library and she looks up at you in embarrassment as you crack the first smile of the evening.

“Hungry?” you ask.

“Starving,” she replies dramatically, leaning so far back in her seat, her knees bump yours under the table.

Your toes curl at the contact, heart skipping when she doesn’t make a move to reposition herself.

“Have you eaten yet?” she asks, eyes looking everywhere but yours.

“Not since breakfast,” you admit.

“You like pizza?”

“Only the good kind,” you challenge.

“Beautiful,” Vi hums, shuffling her papers into her textbook and chucking it back into her bookbag. “I know the best place.”

Valentino’s is a hole-in-the-wall right outside of campus, a short walk from the library that Violet leverages as a way to get to know you outside of being lectured about statistical curves and correlation.

“Did you grow up around here?” Vi asks once the waiter sets two glasses of water down between the two of you.

You shake your head.

“No, grew up on the east coast and decided I needed a break from my life there,” you admit easily.

It’s almost as if the facade of professionalism fades away, melting to reveal you.

Vi’s desperate for more.

“As in?”

You look at her for a moment, wonder if you should divulge because you’re not really sure if Vi would get it, but she watches you like she’s hanging onto every single word you say, so you’re spilling.

“My dad died when I was little, left me and three other siblings with my Mom,” you offer. “And I love my siblings. Love my mom. She’s been a great parent, better than great actually, but most of our family disowned me when I came out and it was easier to run away than to deal with it.”

Violet’s expression falls, a furrow settling deep between her brows.

“Wow, I’m, uh, I’m really sorry to hear that,” she says, and she sounds sincere. A long moment lapses before she’s adding, “for what it’s worth, I think that’s very brave of you.”

And you seem a little surprised at the sentiment.

“Thanks.” You smile. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

Vi could turn to goo in this dimly lit booth, stained-glass wall sconce casting a warm glow over your pretty face.

“You—” She sniffs, changes the subject because she doesn’t know if she can do this on an empty stomach. “You like pineapple on your pizza?”

“Oh yeah,” you confirm proudly. “It’s a hill I’ll die on, I’m not sorry.”

“God, marry me now.”

She doesn’t realize she says it out loud until you’re bursting into a fit of laughter on your side of the booth.

“So this is something we can agree on?” you ask, head tilting in the way that makes Vi want to grab your face and taste you.

“Oh yeah,” she parrots instead. “One hundred percent.”

Valentino’s becomes routine just as much as Vi seeing you at four every Tuesday and Thursday becomes routine. It’s always after the Thursday session (because they have a three dollar slice from 6 to close) that you and Vi cram yourselves in the same booth near the kitchen and giggle over half a Hawaiian pizza.

“...And my little sister blew up her science project in the fourth grade—”

You choke on your bite, eyes wide as Violet recalls Powder’s little mishap that sent the entire gymnasium evacuating despite the tiniest fire.

“Now she’s about graduate and start school for chemical engineering,” she says, obviously proud.

“She seems like a smart girl,” you observe, if the countless stories Violet shares with you is anything to go by.

You figure being related to someone as great as the new friend you’ve made also speaks for itself.

“The smartest,” she agrees. “I’m proud of her.”

“I’m sure she’s proud of you too,” you assure her. “You’re a good big sister.”

And it’s in these moments that Vi realizes that she’s in far, far deeper than she initially gave stock. Because these past few weeks, she realizes that there’s a lot more to your big brain and your pretty face. You’re an attentive listener, way funnier than she could have anticipated, and just a lot more laid back than you let on.

That much she finds out after the two of you graduate from emailing with silly sign-offs to exchanging phone numbers and texting. It starts off rather irregular, a coffee order here and there, maybe a TikTok that Vi swears is funny, you just have to watch it all the way through! But then she starts texting you when she’s bored, when she’s in class, before practice, after. Even pops the question that’s been niggling at her since she met you: on a scale from 1 - 10 how down are you to smoke?

Like cigarettes?

no, weed, dummy.

Oh. Hmm. 7. 10 if I’m drunk.

She could not wipe the smile from her face even if she tried.

And then she gets the invite.

Ellie swears it’s her in.

“Jesus Christ if you even consider me a friend, you’ll bang,” Ellie calls from the couch.

“It’s just tutoring,“ Vi argues.

“Yeah, at her place,” she scoffs. “At least test the waters, maybe cop a feel.”

“You’re a pig,” Vi snorts, making sure her laptop and all of the worksheets Medarda’s assigned over the course of the week is in her backpack.

“You’ve been wet dreaming over this girl for months.”

“Fuck all the way off.” Vi’s face warms because her best friend isn’t necessarily wrong.

You’re too hot for your own good, but you don’t even know it and Vi thinks she could die sometimes. Especially when you wear your favorite pair of jeans, the ones that hug the swell of your ass just right. Or swipe on that shimmery lipgloss she swears makes your mouth look edible.

If you were willing, Vi would be all over you, but thinking about taking advantage of the fact that you trust her enough to invite her into your space feels a little grimy.

“Whatever, bang, don’t bang,” Ellie says nonchalantly. “Blueball yourself for all I care.”

Vi rolls her eyes, slings her bag over her shoulder before sliding on her shoes and leaving her friend on the couch with a resounding click.

You live off-campus, maybe a ten minute drive, in a cozy little complex near the suburbs. Your roommate, Maddie, a chipper blonde with a bob, is all too eager to leave when Vi arrives.

“Hi, sorry we couldn’t meet anywhere else,” you apologize as you let her into your space. “Even if the library wasn’t closed, the vet said I have to monitor Pip for the next 48 hours.”

Vi raises a brow.

“My cat,” you clarify.

“Oh.” Vi doesn’t know why she suddenly feels like she’s intruding as she hesitantly toes off her shoes and follows you down the hall.

But she does take the opportunity to take you in in all your glory; all cozy and cuddly in an oversized sweatshirt, plaid pajama shorts and mismatched egg socks.

Cute. So fucking cute.

You spare her a glance over your shoulder and she’s clearing her throat.

“We don’t have to have a session tonight," she says, stopping at the threshold of the living room. “I would’ve understood if you had to cancel.”

You shake your head, give her a soft smile that has her knees feel like jelly.

“S’okay,” you assure her. “A promise is a promise.”

And you do start off studying, shoulder to shoulder in front of your coffee table, but then Pip crawls from his little hiding spot under the TV console to curiously nose along Vi’s feet and she’s a goner.

“He’s so sweet,” she practically wails as he paws at her thigh and nudges against her arm so that he can climb into her lap.

You warm at the sight, can’t help but snap a picture, much to Violet’s dismay.

“Stop,” she laughs. “That picture can’t see the light of day.”

“Why?” you whine, making a show of climbing onto your wooden coffee table to get a funny top down photo of the hockey star with your cat. “You and Pip look so cute together.”

She feigns a scowl even though her shoulders shake with laughter.

“I have a bad boy image to uphold, sweetheart.”

You snort, reach into her lap to scratch behind Pip’s ear, and her heart melts, body warm from her ears to her toes.

“Is he sick?” she asks cautiously, petting him softly.

“Just a little,” you say. “Something some rest and medicine won’t fix.”

It’s how the two of you end up on the couch, study materials long forgotten as Animal Planet plays in the background. Pip’s moved to lounge atop the covers draped over your lap and you’re blowing your nose into a tissue as an especially sad segment about baby animals being rejected by their mothers finishes.

Vi knows she shouldn’t laugh, but you’re too fucking cute and she can’t help but coo at you.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” you hiccup.

“What, that you’re a big soft baby?” she teases.

“Vi,” you whimper.

And something in her brain tickles because she can’t recall a time you’d ever called her by her nickname, only ever referred to her as Violet and nothing else.

She resists a smile.

“Okay, okay,” she gives in. “Lets change the subject.”

You make a noise of agreement as you cuddle your sleepy Pip.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” she says, arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers a hairsbreadth from your figure.

Test the waters, cop a feel.

Vi’s not particularly into the idea, but the opportunity’s right there in the way wisps of your hair falls from its hold. Her fingers move of their own device, tucking the strands behind your ear.

She feels you still for the slightest, most imperceptible of moments, but then you’re relaxing, letting her fingers brush from your ear down to your shoulder, then back to where it rests on the back of the couch.

“You doing anything on Saturday?” she asks, really hopes you’ll say no.

“Not that I know of,” you say without second thought.

Not that you really need to. Your tight circle of friends are all alike, tethered to their hobbies and their homes.

“I have a game on Saturday,” Vi starts, fiddling with a little hole in the cushion. “If you wanted to come.”

You don’t agree or disagree immediately, and Vi’s scrambling to soothe over any potential discomfort.

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna, of course,” she says quickly. “I just— I thought you might be interested in going and I’d really like to see you there and—”

A small little laugh puffs from your lips.

“Of course I’ll go,” you agree easily.

Vi deflates in relief.

“Great,” she sighs. “Awesome.”

Vi doesn’t know why she invites you. More so, she doesn’t know why she tells her teammates that she’s invited you because now they’re whooping and hollering in the locker room, towel-whipping her and sing-songing that their star player’s gonna get laid.

Doesn’t know why she invites you because as soon as she glides on the ice, she’s searching the stands high and low for your familiar figure. When she clocks you nestled in the middle with your roommate and another friend she vaguely recognizes, her heart’s soaring and her stomach’s twisting in knots.

Vi’s never nervous, but somehow you bring out the worst of it.

It only takes a few moments, though. The blare of the horn snaps her back into her zone and she leaves all the noise off-rink. In this moment, all she knows is cutting ice, dodging the other team’s most aggressive players and sinking shot after shot.

It’s nearing the end of the second period when she finally glances at the score.

5—4.

The opposing team’s giving them a run for their money and this is probably one of the tightest matches they’ve played all season. She takes a moment to find you in the stands again, and you’re right where she left you, eyes already glued to her as you hover over the edge of your seat.

She hadn’t realized it before, but you’ve got her number painted on her face and another surge of warmth layers over the exertion.

You give her a thumbs up and she feels like lightning.

They reset and she’s off, like a streak of light in the night sky, she’s shuffling the puck towards the goal.

Then you see the navy uniform barreling towards her, voice caught in your throat as Vi gives the puck one last shot before that damned Jersey Number Six shoves her so hard, she’s flinging into the rink’s wall.

The horn chugs, signaling the end of the second period and the stands erupt in a ceremonious cheer as the playback reveals that Vi had sunk the puck before time.

“Fuck yeah!” you cry out, shooting to your feet to clap your hands.

Vi ignores the instigating chants to fight, only really pays attention to your little dance of excitement as she shakes off the other player and rejoins her team for intermission.

“Fuck, Vi, you got it bad, huh?” Abigail Anderson’s spearheading the teasing once they all return to the locker room at the end of the game.

Vi’s body heats at the thought, isn’t really in the business of denying it anymore, because, you know what? Yeah. Vi’s got it so fucking bad for you, she doesn’t even know what to do with herself. You’re her first thought, her final prayer, and everything in between.

So all she does he shrug, can’t help the grin that splits her lips as she rubs her towel through her sweat-damp hair.

She’s the first one out of the locker room, dressed in some sweats and a pullover, towel slung around her neck as she steps into the tunnel. Your contact’s pulled up, and she’s ready to fire off a text asking where you want her to meet you, but she stops short to see you already leaned outside of the change room’s doors.

“Hey, cupcake,” she murmurs, smiling hard when she finds the smudged number 5 still chalked on your face.

“Hi, Violet,” you return shyly, hands clasped behind your back.

She hears the telltale whoosh of the locker room doors, the chattering of her teammates as they poke their heads out into the hall to be nosy, but she’s guiding you along, throwing a wink over her shoulder as the two of you fall into step.

“Thank you for coming,” Vi says after a moment. “You being here really meant a lot to me.”

You don’t know if Vi’s always been this sentimental, but just never given the opportunity to showcase it, or if she’s just buttering you up, but you can’t help but beam at her with pearly teeth and dimpled cheeks.

“God, Violet, you were so good!” you say excitedly, a little skip in your step. “You were in the rink, skating circles around them, like this, and like this.”

She bursts into laughter as you start speeding down the tunnel, dodging garbage bins and jumping up into the air to click your heels.

Something falls out of your little fannypack when you land, and Vi’s crouching down to pick up the tulle baggie to find a little beaded bracelet with a gold clasp that reads puck off.

“What’s this?” Vi asks, and you stop your shenanigans to turn your attention to her.

When your expression falters and you’re running back to her at full speed, she’s holding the baggie up just a little too out of reach for you, grin smug.

“Is this for me, sweetheart?” she asks presumptuously, even though her heart’s thrumming hard in her ribcage.

You’re on your tiptoes, chest pressed against hers, and god, please! is all Vi can think when your head tilts up, a little defeated knit between your eyebrows.

She milks the fuck out of whatever this is, arm banding around your waist as she returns the baggie to you.

“Maybe,” you whisper finally.

“Maybe what?” Vi teases.

“Maybe it’s for you,” you respond, free hand coming to rest on her chest.

“And what do I have to do to get it?” she asks, voice low.

It makes your body jolt hard as a shiver slinks down your spine because there she is, the insufferable flirt who knows exactly what to say to have your brain turn to mush.

You seem like you’re contemplating for a moment and Vi’s breath is hitching in her throat, wondering if you’re willing to play this cat and mouse game with her.

You smile, something glinting in your warm eyes.

“Puck off.”

Your giggle is maniacal as you slip away, leaving her temporarily stunned before she chases you down the tunnel. And she should expect your speed, especially because you’ve got legs, but it takes her a moment to catch up with you when her practice bag’s thumping on her back like that. Her calloused fingers are closing around the flesh of your hips in no time and she’s pulling you back into her arms.

“Cough it up, sweetheart,” she huffs.

You whine.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you counter.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme.”

And you give in because Violet’s made you weak. She’s holding out her wrist as you free the multi-colored bracelet.

You barely clasp the closure in the ring before Violet’s stumbling into you, a big burly girl from the other team shoulder checking the fuck out of her.

“Nice job standing in the middle of the walk way,” she bites.

Violet only snorts a laugh.

“Whatever, good game,” she calls.

Whoever she is, stops, levels Vi with a deadly look before her gaze flits to the bracelet you’ve just fixed around her wrist to you who stands frozen into place as the tension crackles between them.

“Cute,” she observes and your skin prickles. “Let me take her for a spin?”

“Violet,” you warn when her shoulders square and she takes a step forward.

She looks torn between walking away and beating the shit out of whoever this instigator is, but one of her teammates is shoving her along.

“Leave it.”

Whatever that was shatters the moment between the two of you and Vi’s taking in a deep breath as Abby trails behind the two of you.

The girl whistles for good measure and you throw a dirty look over your shoulder.

She winks.

You’ve still yet to find out who hosts these parties, but this time around gives you a weird sense of deja vu as you climb the steps with Maddie in tow.

You and Vi had parted ways at the rink, not before extending you an invite to the celebration later in the evening.

You should come, I can pick you up.

But per usual, DD duties call, and you’d smiled up at her despite the lingering pressure from the prior confrontation and promised her that yes, you’d absolutely be there.

Maddie squeals from the step below as you climb the front porch, breaths coming out in puffs of steam.

“You look so hot,” she says excitedly.

You giggle nervously, sure hope you do because you’re freezing your ass off!

“Yeah?”

Maddie gives you an incredulous look, eyelids powdered with glitter and gaze lined charcoal. She’s looking extra cute tonight too and you know that the two of you could fall into an endless cycle of teasing because a certain someone’s probably inside tonight.

“If she doesn’t fuck you before the night ends, I will,” Maddie teases, and you’re warming unceremoniously at the thought.

Because maybe you’ve been thinking about it a lot more recently despite only going into this trying to get through these tutoring sessions and dipping. Especially as of late now that Vi’s made it a habit to FaceTime you after practice, on your walk to the library, dripping sweat and chest heaving.

You’d always seen the appeal, but now you feel it.

You smooth down your asymmetrical skirt and Maddie steps up to adjust your tits in your lowcut lace blouse just as the door swings open to reveal none other than Violet.

“Oh—” Her voice catches as she takes you in.

Maddie gives your ass a little swat and Vi’s gaze is following the movement as your roommate pushes past her to slip inside.

“I was— I was just about to step out. To, uh, to call you,” she stammers.

You breath out a little laugh.

“Here I am.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Here you are.”

Jesus, fuck Vi could burst into flames right now. Your boots hug your thighs and Violet’s not gonna lie, she really wishes it were her head squeezed between—

“You look...” Hot, so fucking edible, downright fuck— “...really nice.”

You smile, but you can’t help the way your teeth chatters.

“Fuck, shit, you’re probably cold,” she curses, warm hands closing around your shoulders to pull you inside. “Why didn’t you wear a jacket? You’re gonna get sick.”

I wanted you to want me.

“Guess I just forgot,” you say quietly.

She looks like she wants to scold you, but instead, she’s pulling down her coat, a big black work jacket, hanging from the banister of the stairs around your shoulders and you’re relishing the residual warmth that lingers there and her familiar scent.

“Can I get you a cider?” she asks. “It’s still warm.”

It hits you as her fingers curl through yours, that Vi’s truly nothing like what you initially thought. She’s sweet, and she’s respectful, and she’s everything you could ever hope for.

You freeze at the thought, and Vi’s glancing at you when she’s tugged to a stop.

“You okay?” she hums.

Your eyes search her face, gliding over the scar on her lip and the one slit through her eyebrow. The gold hoop pierced through her nose glints under the lowlight and her thick lashes flutter as she looks down at you.

You give her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes because wow, you’re in deep.

“I’m okay,” you assure her, give her fingers a squeeze for good measure.

When she finally secures you a mug of steaming cider, she’s guiding you to her group of friends that occupy the living room.

You only recognize Ellie, her best friend and her roommate, and Abby, the captain. Everyone else is a jumbled mix of names and faces and you stick close to Vi as she settles into the left corner of the couch.

You make a move to sit on the armrest, legs crossed and hands folded around your mug, but Vi’s spreading her legs and pulling you into her lap before you can effectively protest.

Her warmth immediately engulfs you and it takes every ounce of self control not to curl up into a ball in front of all her friends and classmates.

As they recap the game and catch up with each other, you remain hushed, eyes flitting from person to person as they speak. Toes curling whenever Violet’s voice vibrates in her chest as she talks big about sports and the hot teams this season.

You’re caught off caught when Ellie’s directing a question towards you and you barely register.

“What do you like to do?” she asks you.

All eyes audibly shift to where you’re cozied up in Vi’s lap, cider empty and abandoned on the side table.

“Uh.”

Your words are lodged in your throat because you’re so used to talking Vi’s ear off about your interests (namely, Animal Planet and your son Pip), showing her your little craft projects you like to do in front of the television on a weekend evening (you’d taken a break from the scarf / hat combo you were knitting to finish the bracelet you designed for Vi), and yapping about some obscure film you’d watched while finishing said projects.

But here, now, you don’t know what to say. Not when this isn’t your typical crowd and you don’t know what to expect from her friends.

Vi must feel your hesitation because her digits are slipping into her jacket, fingertips ghosting the small of your back as she presses a palm against your spine to smooth the tension there.

It’s okay, is a silent insinuation.

You give her a look from the corner of your eye before you turn your attention back to Ellie.

“I don’t do much,” you offer honestly. “Just starting my old cat lady duties early, I suppose.”

Ellie laughs benevolently.

“You have a cat?”

“Yes, his name’s Pip, and he’s basically my kid.”

“Cute,” Ellie coos. “You got any pictures?”

And you seem to light up, spare Vi one more glance as you dig in her coat pocket to produce your cellphone, charms jangling as you power it back on to show Ellie the lockscreen.

“I contemplated naming him Toothless from—”

“—How To Train Your Dragon!” Abby fills in from across the couch. “That’s such a good ass movie.”

It warms Vi to the bone, seeing you and her friends nerd out. Seeing them put in the effort because they know she likes you and seeing you reciprocate because, well, you’re you, and you just need a little warming up.

She doesn’t know how long you and her friends chat for until you’re shifting a little and turning your attention back to her.

“Can you show me the bathroom, please?”

Her gaze flits to her circle, and they’re smirking, obviously under the impression that this must be some sort of code the two of you concocted.

She ignores them, and most importantly she ignores the way her pulse jumps when you stand from your seat and perch between her legs, offering both of your neatly manicured hands to her.

This is getting fucking ridiculous.

The bathroom is tucked under the stairs near the front of the house and she stands post outside the door as you finish up.

It’s only when you’re poking your head outside the door sheepishly that she stands up straight.

“Can you help me with my zipper?” you ask timidly.

She puffs a laugh, slips in through the space you crack for her to find you holding the two sides of your skirt together.

And she knows she shouldn’t look, but the space allows her to see the pink lace of your panties. She’s shoving her tongue in her cheek, focusing on lining up the seams and pulling up your zipper as you hold the fabric taut.

“Thanks,” you whisper, looking up to see that Vi’s impossibly close to you in this cramped little powder room.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” she croaks, leaning against the counter as you wash your hands.

She thumbs the hem of your skirt absently.

“I like this,” she admits, gaze trailing up to meet yours. “You look pretty.”

Your ears burn, unable to meet the smolder of her steely eyes. You’d probably find that her pupils are blown wide if you did. Instead, you’re watching her mouth, lips stained cherry and tongue coming out to wet the dry patch.

You hold your breath as you reach across her for the hand towel, but her hands find your hips, teetering into dangerous territory as she moves almost close enough to slip her hands under your skirt.

“You’re not gonna say thank you?” she asks, watching you through hooded eyes.

A nervous giggle bubbles.

“Thanks, Violet,” you murmur.

“‘Course,” she agrees easily. “You gonna wear it again?”

You bite.

“If you ask nicely.”

She licks her lips again, body flexed as you allow her to press you closer. One of your hands splays on the counter behind her, the other brushing over the blooming bruise on her jaw.

“Can I?” she husks.

You don’t need to ask for clarification, not when her nose is nudging yours and your breaths are mingling.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Pl—”

The door rattles with the ferocity of whoever’s knocking on the other side.

“Hurry up in there, I gotta piss!”

To your dismay, the two of you don’t talk about Saturday night. And things’s aren’t particularly bad, but something’s definitely shifted and it’s driving you nuts.

Vi’s on the ice practicing the following morning and after classes on Monday, so you wait for your session with bated breath on Tuesday. You try extra hard despite every voice of reason telling you that you’re reading into it too much.

Vi smiles at you easily as she drops into the seat across from you, pulling out her biometry textbook without so much as a peep about the fact that the two of you almost kissed in whoever the fuck’s bathroom that was over the weekend.

You’re staring, hard.

Because that familiar feeling’s coming back. The seedling of doubt that had rooted in the beginning about Vi’s intentions with you. She’d done a good job of weeding it out over the weeks, of dismantling whatever image you’d built of her in your head, but it plants itself again.

She’s squeezing your hand across the table and your gaze flits down to her rough fingers. That’s when you notice it, the bracelet, still fastened where you clasped it on game night.

You relax a fraction.

“Everything okay?”

You smile, something small.

“Yeah, good,” you assure her.

The rest of your tutoring session is uneventful, goes off without a hitch. And you’re shameless in admitting that you hate to see her go as she walks you to your car in the student lot near the library.

You’re grasping at straws, clearing your throat before she closes your door for you.

“Uh,” you squeak. “Do you want to come over?”

Vi’s pausing, hand still on the edge of your door as her lips twitch.

“Like right now?”

You nod because you’ve already pulled the trigger.

“Like right now,” you confirm.

She checks her wristwatch, sighs heavily because fuck yes, she’d love to come over right now, but Anderson and Williams are expecting her for a strategy meeting with the coach and—

“Sorry,” you say quickly. “You don’t have to, I know we only really—”

She pinches your cheek before tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“I can’t tonight, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” she says. “But tell you what, if you’re willing to free up your Friday night, I’d really like to plan something.”

Your heartbeat skips.

“All yours,” you say without missing a beat.

Vi’s grinning wide.

“Perfect, drive safe,” she bids. “See you tomorrow.”

And you don’t know why you’re so fucking high strung, not when Vi hasn’t done anything to make you doubt that this isn’t all in your head, but it only gets worse as the days go by.

It doesn’t come to a head until Thursday, when your tutoring slots are miraculously empty until Vi’s and you receive an email from Medarda to meet in her office after her string of lectures.

“Afternoon,” the older woman greets, smiling warmly at you as she lets you into her office. “Just wanted to check in with your audit and request any feedback you have.”

You think for a moment before shaking your head.

“Nothing in particular that I can think of,” you say easily, then add with a laugh, “feel like I’ll be a professional by the end of the semester.”

“Why do you say that?” Medarda chuckles as she logs into her computer.

“I have a student sitting every Tuesday and Thursday for tutoring in your class,” you reveal.

She gives you look crossed between surprise and amusement.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You giggle at the distant memory of Vi’s expression in the weight room. “She seems to be picking it up well enough, though.”

“Huh, every Tuesday and Thursday?” she asks, fingers flying over her keyboard. “I must be doing something wrong.”

“I’d hardly say that,” you say. “When Violet booked all my sessions, I thought it was a joke, but I think she’s just really dedicated to doing well.”

“Violet?” Medarda repeats, hands stilling over her mouse.

“Yeah, Violet, on the women’s hockey team?”

Your professor’s eyebrows twitch.

“Why would you— huh. Weird,” she comments.

“I admit it was a little strange, but—”

“Violet’s a consistent top scorer on the exams,” Medarda shares. “She’s been top of the class since the beginning of the semester.”

And it’s like the world stills as she reveals that information, fragile pieces shattering as the gears start turning in your brain and you try to put the puzzle together.

You glance at the clock, find that you’re due to meet Violet in half an hour.

“Uh, if you’ll excuse me,” you say politely, try to ignore the concerned expression etched on your professor’s face at your sudden departure. “It was nice chatting with you. If I think of anything feedback-wise, I’ll be sure to email you.”

And you’re running.

Vi’s in the locker room after practice, toweling off after an extra long shower because she’s been looking a little extra forward to seeing you today, but perhaps that’s everyday as of late.

She’s hooking the bracelet you gave her back on when her phone vibrates and she’s practically diving into her locker when your text tone bleats.

sweetheart: I have to cancel your session this afternoon. I’m sorry.

Her expression screws up.

everything ok? can i do anything for you?

sweetheart: Personal things to take care of. I’ll see you next week.

I’ll see you next week.

But what about tomorrow? She’d been working so fucking hard on tomorrow, on finally pulling her head far enough out of her ass to ask you to give the two of you a shot.

She sets her phone down, slumps down on the bench as she turns her wrist and takes in the smooth glass beads of the bracelet.

She sighs. Hard.

You hole up all weekend long, put your phone on do not disturb, and try your best to get whatever this is out of your system. But you’re a slave to your emotions and you can’t help but check your messages every time you know Vi’s free.

It’s a single text on a Saturday night, one that surprises you because you know she has practice now that the big game’s fast approaching.

violet <3: hey sweetheart, just checking in. i know you said you had a few personal things going on, but i’m here if you feel like you need someone <3

You’re texting back before your better judgement can stop you.

Just been a little stressed. You wanna come over?

.

.

.

Then you add, We can smoke.

Vi’s sending you three running emojis and you crack a smile at your screen before realizing that you need to shower.

You lay out some clothes beforehand, ultimately settling on last Saturday’s skirt.

Vi’s giggling as you fumble with the wrapper, rolling it with clumsy fingers because, truthfully, you don’t do this often, but she shuts right up when you don’t break eye contact as the tip of your tongue slides across the seam to seal the joint.

She’d picked you up with a Sprite and a slice to split from Valentino’s, throat drying as you bounded down the stairs in the same fucking skirt that had her touching herself after she’d gotten home from the party, guilty and wound tight. Now the two of you are tucked away behind some abandoned strip.

“Ready?” Her voice rasps as you pop the end between your lips and she brings the lighter to ignite the end for you.

It burns as you inhale and Vi’s thighs squeeze together involuntarily. She’d smoked with you twice before, both times on the roof of your apartment building and at a reasonable distance. But now, she knows what your body feels like, almost knows what your lips taste like.

You take a few more puffs before offering it to her and the smoke begins to plume to fill the space of her little coupe. It’s moments like these, tucked away from prying eyes, that it’s just you and Vi.

Not Vi, the supposed womanizing hockey star, or you, the nerdy homebody tutor. Just the two of you, two souls trying to get through university and carve your paths.

“I aced Medarda’s exam this week,” Vi says softly, jay pinched between her fingers as she watches you with lowering eyes.

“Oh, yeah? I wonder why,” you quip in return, face impossibly close to hers despite the console between you.

“I have a smartypants tutor that does an especially good job when she’s motivated,” she answers.

Your cheeks flame, but you don’t back down. Vi’s been extra good at pushing your buttons and flirting hard as of late, and maybe you’re a little more than willing to receive and reciprocate, but the two of you have been toeing the line, yet neither of you have taken the leap.

This moment, however, feels like it could be it. Like you’re going to find out what the fuck all of this even is.

“I have to meet this tutor of yours,” you play along. “She sounds like a miracle worker.”

“Among other things,” Vi teases, sucking in the smoke and blowing it through her nostrils.

“Like?”

“She’s also funny as fuck,” she hums. “A big baby when we watch Animal Planet.”

You narrow your eyes at her and Vi lets out a little laugh that makes your toes curl.

“Uh-huh?”

“She’s really fucking pretty too,” she says quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she affirms. “Kind of pretty that makes you wanna do bad, bad things.”

You smile falters as a shiver rips down your spine and before you know it, Vi’s putting out the joint before climbing in the cramped backseat of her car to spread her legs.

Doesn’t even give you a moment to process before she’s pulling you on top of her and allowing you to settle comfortably in her lap. Her hands run up your thighs and disappear under your skirt to grab the fat of your ass.

You breathe out a little giggle as your slender fingers come up to cup her jaw.

“Think my tutor’ll be mad at me?” Vi murmurs, nose brushing yours. “‘Cuz I really, really wanna kiss this pretty girl in my lap right now.”

You let out a broken little sigh when her hips buck.

“Maybe she’ll forgive you,” you whisper. “I know I would.”

And that’s all the affirmation Vi needs from you before she’s taking the plunge and slotting her lips with yours; kissing you with so much fervor, you’d think she needs you to breathe. She tastes like mint and weed and you can’t get enough.

Vi’s all-consuming, her kiss a delicious mix of teeth and tongue. And, god, her hands. Rough and calloused, but gentle in the way she explores your body. It isn’t until she’s snapping the band of your thong and her fingertips ghost the seam of your sticky heat that you’re hyper-focusing.

“Mmmph, Violet, Vi—” Your voice cracks as she breaks from your lips to map a series of kisses from your jaw, to the juncture behind your ear, down the column of your neck. “Wait.”

She stops, hands pulling from under your skirt like you’ve burned her. And perhaps you have, branded nearly every part of her because she can’t really think of a sound moment if you’re not there.

“Sorry, sorry,” she shudders as the arousal ebbs through her tightened body. “I—”

I’m caught up. I’m losing it, and it’s all your fault, and—

“Violet,” you swallow, fingers toying with the collar of her varsity sweatshirt. “I have something to say.”

Her throat bobs and her grey eyes gleam like ash in the lowlight of the backseat of her car. The windows are smoked out and it’s exceptionally warm, equal parts sexual tension and another thing Vi can’t quite pinpoint.

“Yeah, anything,” she assures you, hands resting on your waist instead. “You can tell me anything.”

One of your palms settles over her chest, right where her heart is and you suck in a sharp breath.

“I— uh, I really like you, Violet,” you admit quietly. “A lot more than I think I’ve ever liked someone in a long, long time.”

Oh.

Oh. Here it comes, the big fat rejection. The coming to your senses.

“But?”

The look on your face is devastating and Vi’s scared.

“I have to know that if I give you a chance, you won’t abuse it,” you hiccup, and wow, that’s definitely not what she expects you to say, but fuck does it leave a sour taste in her mouth.

“Abuse it?” she repeats, face crumpling.

“Violet,” you sigh.

“Abuse what?” she husks.

“I know you—”

“Do you?” she scoffs, a wave of irritation washing over her as she looks you with disappointment. “What gave you the idea that I would ever even dream of taking advantage of you giving me a chance?”

“You don’t necessarily have a spotless record, Violet,” you say, voice edged. “And I know that I’m not your usual—”

“Not my usual what?” The venom in Vi’s tone is uncharacteristic, but this is not at all how she expected tonight to go and she’s frustrated. “Not my usual type? You internalized all this shit that people say about me even though I’ve been trying to get you to see me for months.”

Emotion clogs your throat because a small part of you knows that Vi’s right. She’s never given you an outright reason to doubt her interest in you, but it all just seems too good to be true.

“Sue me for wanting to protect myself,” you choke, climbing out of her lap and back into the front seat. “Especially because I know that you don’t actually need help in Medarda’s class.”

And that catches Vi off guard. You see as much in the rearview mirror when she pales.

She clambers back into the driver’s seat.

“Who told you that?” she asks, not even bothering to deny the fact.

“I mentioned that I was tutoring you in passing when Medarda asked for feedback on her class,” you respond, crossing your arms over your chest. “She asked why I’d be doing that when you’re top of all her sections.”

Violet’s voice is stuck in her chest.

“And then your past hook ups parade around campus like a reminder that—,” you cut yourself off, obviously hurt after bottling this all up. “And it isn’t any of my business, nor are we anything enough for me to plausibly upset—”

“Yes, I lied,” Vi admits quietly. “But only about one thing.”

Your breath catches.

“You’re right, I don’t need help in Medarda’s class. I lied about being clueless and I signed up for tutoring even though I didn’t need it,” she says.

“Why?”

“You know why,” Vi huffs. “From the moment I met you, I knew.”

It’s a glaring insinuation that makes you crack.

“No one ever says it out loud, but I know what everyone thinks,” you choke. “Violet’s fucking that loser?”

“You really believe that?”

“God, Violet, I don’t know what to fucking believe,” you cry out. “My life’s fucking fine and dandy and then you show up and make me fucking question everything I—”

Vi lets out a humorless laugh, can’t even look at you and it could make you sick.

“You’re so fucking loved by everyone, even those who won’t admit it,” you croak. “And you’re incredible at everything you do, turn everything you touch to gold, and I’m just...”

Vi’s brows furrow.

“You’re what?”

“I’m me,” you whisper meekly. “I’m just me and you’re you, and I just don’t see what makes me so different.”

And Vi realizes that she’d read it all wrong.

“Look at me,” she says softly, fingers tracing your jaw.

You knuckle your tears away, make a petulant noise in your throat.

“You wanna know why I booked all your stupid tutoring sessions?” she huffs. “Because I really fucking like you, ________. And it’s beyond wanting to fuck you even though god knows I’d fucking die if you let me. It’s so much more than having you physically. Because I’ll take being just friends with you if it means having you around. I don’t give a shit about anything else but you.”

It’s the most sound declaration you hear from the girl in the semester you’ve known her and it makes you cry.

“You make me feel so fucking normal and you remind me that I don’t need to be anything else but me,” she breathes. “And I get where you’re coming from, I hear you. I just really hope you hear me too.”

“I do,” you whisper. “I’m just—”

Vi squeezes your thigh, takes your hand in hers and brings your knuckles to her lips.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” she offers gently.

Vi only has one more game before the championships and she won’t lie and say that this limbo with you has her feeling like she’s going to be ill.

You’d cancelled her tutoring sessions this week, told her that maybe the two of you needed to spend some time apart and that she was clearly doing a number on you. So she agrees, tries to give you space to work through what’s weighing on you.

sweetheart: Good luck at your game tonight, Violet. I’m rooting for you.

She really wishes you’d be there, but she knows you need the time alone.

thanks, sweetheart. i appreciate you.

“Alright Vi, we have fifteen til puck drop,” Ellie says carefully, has been front row to everything transpiring between you and her best friend.

Vi tucks her phone away in her backpack, unhooks your bracelet from around her wrist and fastens it to the handle of her bag, and grabs her stick from the rack before she lets her teammates jostle her into the tunnel.

And she wishes she could lock in, clear her head and get into the game, but all she can think about is you.

It’s a narrow victory once the game ends, but she can’t find it in herself to celebrate, especially not at the kickback afterwards because fucking Sev and her assholes are there.

“Where’s your little dime piece?” she taunts.

“Fuck off,” Vi warns, obviously not in the mood.

“Shame,” she whistles. “She looks like a fucking weirdo, but she sure does have a fat ass—”

Ellie’s fist cracks so hard across her jaw.

“She told you to fuck off,” she hisses.

Sev spits the blood in her mouth on the toe of Ellie’s shoe, fists bunching the collar of her sweater.

“Keep that fucking energy on the ice because I’m gonna wipe the floor with your fucking pissbaby team.”

You wake up on Monday morning to a text from Vi and a handful of notifications from Instagram.

violet <3: can i see you this week?

You open Instagram.

sev.94 has requested to follow you! sev.94 has sent you a message request!

Your brows furrow, opening the message request hesitantly. There’s a few DMs and a video from this Sev person.

sev.94 hey pretty, sorry to text you like this. sev.94 just thought you should know the kind of person your little girlfriend is sev.94 sent a video. sev.94 i don’t really do relationships, but i’d take your mind off of it if you let me.

You’re playing the video, quality grainy and audio blasted. You don’t know what you’re looking at at first, it’s dark, and there’s so many voices. But you see skin, see the outline of a girl’s naked back, delicate and arched in pleasure.

You think this Sev person’s just fucking with you, playing some stupid joke with a shitty punchline as someone’s hands snake around to palm the flesh of the unnamed girl’s ass, but then you see it.

The bracelet.

Vi going to lose her shit for two reasons.

(1) Because you haven’t responded to her message despite your read receipts being on, and (2) she can’t fucking find the bracelet you’d gifted to her.

She’s barging into Ellie’s room, shirtless and hair dripping.

“Jesus, fuck, do you knock?” Ellie hisses, buds she was in the midst of grinding scattering across the floor.

“I can’t find the bracelet she gave me,” Vi says quickly.

Ellie’s face scrunches.

“Huh?”

“The bracelet ________ gave to me,” Vi says. “I hooked it on my backpack before practice on Saturday but it’s not there anymore.”

Ellie’s expression morphs, eyes narrowing in thought.

“Maybe you misplaced it,” Ellie offers. “Regardless, we practice tonight, I’ll help you look for it.”

Vi’s chest is tight, doesn’t want to admit that the stupid little bracelet means way more to her than she lets on. She only ever takes it off when she’s on the ice, won’t risk losing it when she’s got a target on her back and everyone plays rough.

It turns out to be futile when they enter the rink and she retraces her steps only to come up empty-handed.

This, she realizes, is the start of a very long week.

You should’ve seen it coming, really. Don’t know why you tried to psyche yourself into thinking that Vi could ever really want something with you when the world’s her fucking oyster and she can have anything she wants.

And you want to feel bad when she texts you intermittently through the days, checking in, offering to meet you, anything. But part of you is angry, unforgiving, tired.

You could’ve gone the rest of the school year unscathed if she’d just left you the fuck alone, but she pried and she tugged and she settled, and she made a home inside of you and you hate that you let her.

xxxx: i really miss you.

You block her number, block her social media, and even though finals are imminent, you now know that Vi’s been playing you for a fool this whole time and you cancel every last one of the sessions she’s booked.

You hope she’d get the message, figure that you’d caught onto her little game and aren’t willing to play anymore, but she doesn’t, that much is clear when you’re finishing up your two thirty session and find her stalking into the library just as the student leaves your table.

“Are we going to talk like adults or are you going to keep acting like—”

You don’t entertain a response, just pack your bag and sling the strap over your shoulder because the tears are bubbling and you don’t trust yourself not to break.

“Seriously?” Vi bites, hot on your heels as you throw all of your weight against the library doors and suck in the icy air.

“Leave me alone, Violet,” you warn.

“No, fuck that,” Vi spits, hand closing around your bicep. “You don’t— You don’t get to make me fall for you and then try to leave with no explanation.”

“Fuck you,” you whisper.

“What?”

“Fuck you, Violet,” you hiccup, yanking your arm from her grasp and putting as much distance as you can between the two of you. “I hope you and your friends got a good laugh out of it.”

Her face is screwing up and if she wasn’t confused before, she’s definitely confused now.

“Listen, I can’t fix something if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Vi argues. “I’m so fucking lost right now.”

You hate how believable she is. How the thought of hurting you seems so inconceivable to her. But that grainy video was clear enough.

“I hate you,” you murmur. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

Your name comes out broken, like you’ve wounded her. But you’ve officially folded your hand, won’t dare look her in her eyes because the both of you know it’s not true.

The championships roll in fast like a tide and neither your or Violet are ready for it.

You hear they’re live streaming the game, it’s the most anticipated one in the season. Piltover Stallions against the Zaun City Tigers. A part of you wishes you could support them, but then you’re starkly reminded that you’re a laughingstock amongst them.

The library on a Friday night is as quiet as can be, the hum of the fluorescents background to the voices in your head that are loud. You’re so engrossed in the study material that you don’t realize someone’s making a beeline for you until they’re knocking on the tabletop.

Ellie Williams stands before you in all her lean glory, hands sunk in her pockets as she stares down at you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing?” Your tone is clipped, disinterested because you believed that you and Ellie could be friends once upon a time.

“Coach sat me out because I socked one of those dickhead Zaun City Tigers in the mouth last weekend.”

You humph.

“Listen, we don’t have much time left, so I’m going to make this short and sweet,” she says. “Whatever happened between you and Vi is obviously personal and that typically would have nothing to do with me, but she can’t get her shit together because all she can think of is you.”

“And that’s my problem because...?”

“I know that Vi comes off a certain way, but she’s my best friend, like my best friend in this entire shithole of a world, and she’s—”

“No offense, Ellie,” you cut her off. “But if Vi sent you here to plead her case, I think that’s pathetic and—”

“Okay, well maybe if you shut up for three seconds and let me get to my point—”

You close your textbook and shove it in your backpack before standing to signal the end of the conversation.

“Whatever, I don’t have time for this.”

Ellie watches you walk away, takes in a deep breath because wow, you’re a bitch when you’re mad, but she absolutely gets why Vi is whipped.

“Violet’s in love with you.”

And that statement makes you freeze. Tears cloud your vision as your fists tighten around the strap of your bag.

“If you fuck someone else while you’re in love, I want nothing to do with it,” you bite.

Ellie’s brows shoot up.

“Whoa, what?”

“Violet fucked someone else as soon as things got tough, and if that’s the kind of person she is in love, I’d rather be alone,” you say stiffly.

“Respectfully, there’s no way Vi’s interested in getting pussy from anywhere else with how down bad that bitch is for you, but even if she was, I spend over seventy percent of my day with her and know that all she’s been doing the past two weeks is moping over the fact that you handed her ass to her on a silver platter.”

“There’s a video.”

Ellie’s brows must be mingling with her hairline right about now.

Her reaches a palm out.

Show me.

You open the DM from sev.94, watching as Ellie’s expression morphs from morbid curiosity to disbelief, to a quiet rage.

She’s handing your phone back to you and grabbing you by your forearm.

“She’s fucking dead.”

When you enter the rink, the ice is tense.

It’s the middle of the second period and the game is tied 3—3.

Your eyes comb the playing area, can’t find Vi’s jersey number in the mix, but finally settle on her on the bench, shoulders terse and obviously on edge.

She doesn’t clock you yet, had given up on the idea of patching things up with you after your last conversation.

“Vi’s been missing her bracelet since practice on Saturday,” Ellie’d told you on the way there, then pulled out her phone to show you the photo she’d taken of Vi passed out in nothing but her boxers on the couch the night of the last game, fucked up and sad. “We went out for like an hour after the game, but that was it. Vi was too fucking in her head.”

The girl from the tunnel, the one who’d been taunting the two of you, you piece together, has been the one behind it all, stirring the pot.

Throughout the end of the second period and all through intermission, Vi doesn’t notice you, too busy trying to get off the fucking bench to survey the crowd.

It’s only during final puck drop in the third period that their coach finally gives in, smacks the back of her helmet and tells her to make him proud that she lifts her head up.

And there, front and center of the student section is you.

Her eyes are wide, body frozen in place as she tries to figure if you’re just a figment of her imagination, but then the horn’s blaring and she’s having to zone back in.

At this point in time, she doesn’t give a fuck if they win or lose, she just needs to get to you.

“Your little bitch looks cute tonight,” Sevika comments wolfishly. “Bet she tastes as good as she looks.”

Vi easily intercepts her pass, cuts between two players as she shuffles it along with practiced precision. She sends the rubber flying and the goalie narrowly misses block.

“Maybe if you played as good as you ran your mouth, you’d wipe the floor with my pissbaby team you big bitch,” Vi calls, resetting in their corner.

And perhaps you’re her good luck charm, the only thing she needed to see to get back into it, because Vi reignites. The adrenaline pumping through her veins fuels every shot, and soon the timer’s buzzing.

7—5.

The roar is deafening, but you’re all she sees in the ocean of cowbells and pompoms.

She barely inches forward before something arcs through the sky and lands before her feet.

Her bracelet.

You watch from the sidelines, the final confirmation as Vi picks up the loop and launches herself at Sevika.

The crowd cheers.

Fight, fight fight!

You don’t know how many swings Vi gets in, just know that she’s flashing you a bloody smile before she skates off the ice.

Ellie emerges from the locker room and you’re perking up.

Most, if not all, of Vi’s teammates had come and gone and you’d been waiting patiently, anxiously, for her to emerge since the end of the game nearly an hour ago.

“She’s the last one in there,” is all Ellie says before strolling off.

“What if...what if she doesn’t want to see me?” you ask hesitantly.

Ellie chuffs a little laugh, doesn’t bother turning as she calls from halfway down the hall, “Find out for yourself, sweetheart.”

Vi’s pulling a tank top over her head as soon as you enter and your cheeks bloom when you catch a split-second of her tits.

She glances up at you, nose bruising and lip busted.

“Hey,” she spares you, stuffing her uniform and skates into her gym bag.

“Hi,” you squeak.

A pregnant pause as you take her in, hesitant to close the distance between the two of you.

“Didn’t think you’d make it,” she observes.

And you don’t really have a bullshit response, know that you had every intention of staying as far away as humanly possible, so you settle on humming your agreement.

“Ellie told me,” she starts. “Why you lashed out on me.”

You swallow.

“And part of me gets it, I really do,” she continues, “but I also thought you had more faith in me than that.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Fuck, Violet, I’m so sorry.”

“I told you to free up Friday night a few weeks ago,” she says, shuts her locker door and slumps down on the bench behind her. “I was going to tell you everything, officially ask you out, but then all that shit happened and it caught up to me.”

You take a step forward, and then another, and another until you’re standing in front of her.

“You have to know that I would never do something like to anyone, but especially not to you,” she says softly, taking your hands in hers.

“I know.”

She brushes her lips against your knuckles, pulls you in closer so that you’re standing between her legs.

“You’re right,” she continues, voice hoarse. “I don’t have a spotless track record, but I meant it when I said that I don’t give a shit about anyone else but you. I would give you anything I can if you let me.”

Your hands rest on her shoulders, her chin resting against the plush of your belly as you look down at her, speechless.

“That night, in the car, you said that you didn’t see what made you so different.”

“I don’t,” you admit.

Vi stands, caging you between strong arms as she drops her face into the hollow of your neck. You shiver when you feel her lips press to the skin there.

“We could start off with the obvious.”

One of her hands rests on the small of your back, pulls you flush so that the only things that separate you are the flimsy fabrics of your clothes. The other grabs a handful of your ass.

“I meant it when I said that you’re the kind of pretty that makes me wanna do bad things.”

You gulp, thighs squeezing as her lips part and she bites.

“Vi.”

“You got a giant brain,” she laughs breathily, fingers coming around the fiddle with your belt.

She kisses you, mouth hot and breath warm. It’s better the second time around, no doubt obscuring you from truly indulging.

“Pl—ease.”

“You’re kind and you’re selfless, and you’re my sweet, sweet little crybaby.”

“Violet,” you sigh breathlessly. “Listen to me.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Fuck me,” you pant. “Please.”

Violet nearly runs two red lights and whips into your neighborhood on two wheels.

The two of you are stumbling up the stairs and she’s spanking your ass on the last step as you fiddle with your keys and try to find the right one under the dim light of the complex hall.

Violet’s already unbuckling her belt as you turn the key, nearly taking you down as she shoves you inside and up against the front door.

“Maddie home?” she breathes.

“Out of town,” you answer quickly, kicking off your sneakers and pulling your sweater over your head. “Visiting her family upstate.”

“Perfect,” Vi hums. “I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on your couch.”

“Oh–”

One of her rough hands comes to cup your tit over your bra, her tongue laving over the other while her free hand makes work of the clasp.

You walk her back to the couch, stand between her knees as she flops back into the seat. Her arms spread over the back as she settles in, legs widening to give you ample room to strip.

Her eyes never leave yours as you easily unclasp your bra and shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a tight pair of little lace panties and pink socks that has Vi wet.

“C’mere,” she rasps, pulling you to straddle her lap.

Her lips immediately latch onto one of your pebbled nipples, tongue hot as her hands wander.

“Fuck.”

“Tell me what you want,” she husks, biting down on the swell of your breast.

And having Violet this close, her touch excruciatingly featherlight and tempting, you wind tight.

“Want you inside of me,” you whimper, fingers fixing around her throat. “Please.”

“Yeah?” she eggs you on, lips brushing yours as her palms settle on your ass. “You want me to fuck you?”

You nod eagerly, hips rolling in her lap as her breath pitches.

“Vi.”

Her nickname puffing from your lips makes her crack. You’re wound in her arms, face in her neck as she peels your thong taut, away from your waiting cunt, and runs her fingertips from your slit down to your clit.

“F...F—uck,” you sigh.

“Holy shit,” she marvels, licking her lips when she easily glides through your folds. “You’re really fucking wet.”

You grind down against her, clothed clit catching against her belt buckle. The cool metal sends a jolt through your pussy and you’re moaning loud in her ear.

And Violet really wants to take her time with you, wants to milk the first time she ever gets to fuck you for as long as she humanly can, but she’s still fully dressed and you’re practically naked, perfect tits pressed to her chest and fat ass in the palm of her hand.

She shifts you further into her, so that she can peek over the arch of your back as she sinks her middle and ring finger three knuckles deep into your needy heat.

“Ah, fuck, Violet.” Your voice breaks as she starts pumping into you, your arousal coating her fingers and the sound of her easily slipping through your pussy reverberating through the living room. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

She kisses your jaw, litters them until she’s catching your lips and licking crudely into your mouth.

You cry out when her fingers slip out.

She’s leaning the both of you forward, easing you from her lap and onto the couch as she takes a moment to shuck her shirt off and pull her belt through the loops in one tug.

You watch her through it all, the way the trim muscles of her biceps and shoulders flex as she leans over you, takes you by the ankles and yanks you until your ass is half-hanging from the edge of the couch.

She kneels before you, strips you out of your thong.

You don’t miss the way she shoves the soiled fabric in her jeans pocket.

“Jesus,” she breathes, gaze fluttering between your eyes and your pussy. “You’re so fucking pretty, sweetheart.”

Your toes curl at the praise, fingers closing around where Vi’s holding your legs apart.

“You know how bad I’ve been wanting to taste your pussy?” she rasps, gathering the lewdest amount of spit to dribble onto your clit. When you don’t answer, she’s freeing a hand to slap your slit.

“Nnngh, fuck!”

“Think I’ve always wanted to have you,” she admits. “But it was that stupid party fucking party and that stupid fucking skirt. God, I would’ve fucked you in that skirt if you let me.”

“Yeah?” you whine breathlessly. “Tell me.”

She’s stuffing you again without warning, curling her fingers in a way that has your back arching off the couch.

“Would’ve bent you over that sink and made you watch yourself while I ate you out,” she says easily.

And it’s so fucking delicious, the nasty shit Vi’s saying to you while she pounds your aching heat; the way she finally gives in and tastes you, sucking on your clit like she’s starved and you’re the only thing that can sate her hunger.

Your fingers curl through her hair as you teeter dangerously over the edge, nails grazing her scalp and tugging when she hits the spot deep inside of you that has you keening for more.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum,” you choke. “Holy fuck.”

You feel Vi grin against your pussy, watch her with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes because the sight of her between your legs in your moonlit living room has your insides twisting hard.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” she encourages you. “Cum all over my fingers. Wanna see you gush.”

“Hah, h—” Your thighs tighten around her head, fingers curled so hard in her hair, she moans in a mix of pleasure and pain. “Don’t stop, Vi, please.”

She moans into your cunt, savoring the heady taste of you as you practically ride her face.

The sound that fills the room is downright filthy, the sight that Vi beholds when she peeks from where she’s devouring you equally so. It’s picturesque, the way she has you writhing. A sheen of perspiration glistens over your flesh as she eats you out and it’s a perfect mix of her tongue and her fingers that send you soaring over the edge.

It’s a pitched whine that echos, the staccato of your shaky breathing that sings like music in her ears as you cum. And hard.

Her lashes flutter against the skin of your inner thighs as she peppers kisses there, her lips slick with spit and arousal.

“Fuck, babe,” she whispers. “That was...”

She can’t really choose a specific word, is just mind blown at the fact that she’d just made you cum so hard and so fast. It makes her tense and tingle, a smug wave of pride washing over her as she starts mouthing a trail from your belly, between the valley of your tits, up your throat, to finally press a chaste one on your lips.

You taste yourself first and foremost, but then you taste everything she’s ever wanted to say to you, all the unspoken words and the things she’d been too scared to share. Feel it in the way her hands are roaming, squeezing, caressing.

You breathe a disbelieving laugh, peck her lips again when she pulls away to brush your hair from your face.

“Vi—” Your breath hitches and your eyes glaze.

“I know, I know.”

You wrap your arms around her shoulders, legs hooking around the narrow of her waist as she bears your weight and picks up your boneless figure.

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

The sun is warm against your skin when you wake up the following morning, your bedroom bathed in an orange glow.

You feel bone tired, body sore and muscles tight as your arm sweeps the other side of the bed in search of balmy skin, but instead you’re met with cool sheets and swelling dread.

You sit up quickly, find that you’re still naked, and take a moment to asses your bedroom. The bathroom door’s cracked, light off, and everything else is exactly where you left it.

Everything except Vi.

Oh, you think to yourself.

Almost don’t want to leave your room because your empty apartment will be confirmation enough that Vi really did get the last laugh in the end.

But you force yourself out of bed, shrug on an oversized t-shirt before finding the living room just as still as it had been before the two of you had barreled in the night before and she’d left her mark on you.

The only sign that the entire thing wasn’t just a figment of your imagination was Vi’s belt strewn haphazardly on the coffee table.

You feel hollow, almost numb, and even if a persistent part of your brain was consistently telling you that you should’ve known better, the tears well in your eyes because you’d really hoped Violet was different.

You knuckle the tears away angrily, mind racing far too fast to register the door quietly unlocking and the soft footfalls coming down the hall.

“Babe?”

Your gaze snaps up.

Like a vision, Vi’s standing in the doorway, a handful of plastic bags in tow. She’s wearing her clothes from last night and the puffs under her eyes make her a little worse for wear.

She sets the bags down on the eat-in, rounds the couch to take you by the shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” she worries. “What’s going on?”

You hiccup, crumpling in her arms because you were so fucking scared.

“Thought you left,” you croak.

Vi breathes a sigh of relief, blowing out a hollow laugh because her girl’s such a baby.

“You have jack shit in your fridge,” she teases lightly. “How am I supposed to make you a five star breakfast with greek yogurt and carrot sticks?”

You whine.

“Don’t care about breakfast,” your muffled voice sounds from where your face is pressed in her chest. “Just wanted to wake up to you.”

Violet groans.

“You’re so cute,” she laughs, kissing the top of your head.

“I wanna go back to bed,” you mutter petulantly, emotional whiplash making your eyes droop.

“You’re not gonna let me make you breakfast?” Vi picks, smoothing the hair from your face.

Your eyes catch the bracelet refastened around her wrist and you grin softly, taking her fingers to press a kiss to her palm.

She could combust, gaze gooey as she watches you watch her.

Yeah, Vi has a huge problem.

One that’s particular, and overarching; one she doesn’t think she can go without.

And frankly, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

neng © 2024

Oblivious Todoroki x Hero Partner Reader

Part3

“So- uhm.” You nervously try to find a way to say goodbye, or even work up the courage to invite him in like Ochaco had suggested. But the uncomfortable silence remained uncomfortable even after your shaking words filled the space around you. “Did you like the exhibit?”

“I did, you?” You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth, trying not to be upset with the way his eyes hadn’t left his dash, even after he’s asked his question. Did he even care for your answer? “I know you’d been talking about it for a while.”

“I did. Especially the UA section, really takes me back. You know?” An uncomfortable chuckle leaves and you feel heat rising to your cheeks as he still looks at his dash. You were boring him, surely. The look of absolute boredom covered his face the moment you’d slid into his passenger seat 20 minutes ago. “Okay, I’ll uh- see you Monday.”

The cold air whips around you, stinging your already tear stained cheeks as you struggling with your keys at the front door. You were embarrassed- no, humiliated. You spent hours on FaceTime with Ochaco, making sure your outfit and make up were absolutely perfect. You’d given yourself multiple pep talks in the hour before he arrived at exactly 4:30, telling yourself that it was real- it was finally happening.

All for nothing. He paid for your meal at the Cafe, even held the door for you to enter the Museum you’d been so excited to go to. But when the two of you walked through the Hero exhibit, he kept his eyes on the floor and his hands shoved deep into his pockets as you tried desperately to keep a conversation. Unless you were asking him a question, he said nothing and nodded his head to everything you’d said.

Inside your bedroom you have to laugh, even though you wore the outfit he’d told you to- you tried on dozen s of other options and threw them around your room when you inevitably hated every single one. Now not only did your heart feel like a weight in your chest, but now you had to clean the mess you’d made for absolutely no reason. He didn’t even look at what you’d been wearing, much less care.

Instead of cleaning the mess, you shove the clothes still on your mattress to the floor so you can throw yourself into a ball on top of your plush blankets and let the humiliation sink in. You could understand not holding hands, or walking arm in arm- but no conversation? He must’ve realized you thought it was a date and he felt sorry for you and kept-.

Three solid knocks pull you from your self pitty, earning a groan as you wipe your face with the sleeve of your sweater. It had to be your neighbor, who always conveniently ran out of milk or sugar every weekend. You’d offered to buy her extra when you’d go grocery shopping, but she always declined and told you not to worry. As if knocking on your door at 8pm was a better solution for either of you.

“Ms.Lennon, I don’t have any-.” You were rolling your eyes, swinging the door open to scold your neighbor, not noticing Shoto, who stood awkwardly on your doorstep. “-oh. I thought you were my neighbor.”

You notice your purse in his hand, the one you’d left at his sisters dinner, swinging by the strap as his eyebrows pull together. He was staring at you as if you’d grown a 3rd eye in the 5 minutes since you’d left his car, deep in thought by the time you clear your throat. His staring instantly caused the hair on your skin to rise and your stomach to ache in insecurity.

“You’re crying.” He doesn’t wait to be invited in, using his palm to further open the door as you begin to wipe aggressively at the makeup you assumed had streamed down your face. “Is something wrong?”

Was he really this oblivious? Did he truly not notice a single thing that had happened tonight? You couldn’t believe he’d truly been unaware how desperately you were trying to save your ‘date’ and how miserably you failed.

“Did you need something?” You ask, closing your front door. For once you wished it had been Mrs. Lennon on your doorstep. “I’m about to head to bed.”

“I was returning your bag.” The black bag is placed on the table beside your door, right next to your keys that you had slammed so hard they knocked your catch all to the floor. “Why were you crying?”

“I’m not having this conversation right now.” You didn’t care that he followed you, his footsteps pausing once you’ve made it back to your room and into your bed. “Don’t mind the mess, I just- tried a bit too hard.”

“For what?” You were thankful your eyes were closed, otherwise you’d see the disgusted face you assumed he wore seeing your room in such shambles. “For the museum?”

“Go home, I’ll see you at work.” Usually you could handle and actually enjoyed the way things took a while to click in his head, but not tonight. Not when you’d been waiting years for the day he took you on a date, only to expect too much and end up hurt and confused. “I’m sure-.”

“Forgive me for cutting you off, but you’re upset and I’m confused.” You scold yourself for scoffing, but pull your blanket over your head as he continues. “You said you enjoyed the exhibit? Was that not true? Were you disappointed?”

“No, Shoto. I did enjoy the exhibit. It was really cool, and I loved every display. I wasn’t disappointed with the exhibit.” You feel the bed beside your feet dip, and your blanket pull tighter around you as Shoto sits at the foot of your bed. “I’ll be fine before work tomorrow, I promise.”

“Were you disappointed with me?” His question seems to freeze your entire body in place, your fingers that had been twisting around your ring stop, and you swear your heart did to. He sounded upset, maybe even a little defeated. “I apologize if my company was uncomfortable, or if I did anything to make you feel that way.”

“You do not make me uncomfortable, get that through your head.” It didn’t matter that your feelings were hurt, his constant assumption that he made you uncomfortable was starting to dig deeply under your skin. “I’m upset, but you don’t make me uncomfortable- most of the time.”

“So, I did tonight then?” Yes, his silence and avoidance made you want to shrivel up and disappear, but that isn’t why you were upset. “I should’ve clarified, I know you and I had two entirely different ideas of what tonight was meant to be. I didn’t intend for my invitation to make you uncomfortable.”

So it wasn’t a date like you hoped. You were right. Ochaco was probably confused and misread her conversation with the man whose leg had begun to bounce nervously.

“It’s fine, I should have known after all these years you didn’t return my feelings. I don’t want you to feel guilty about my misreading of last night.” Sitting up, you see finally after all these hours, his eyes were on you and they didn’t move. Not even as yours dart to a pile of clothes in the floor. “Despite the fact you hadn’t asked me to be your date, I still enjoyed the exhibit. So thank you for taking me.”

“I feel there is even more I’m not understanding.” His head shakes, but his eyes stay on you. “I did intend for tonight to be a date, I assumed you hadn’t.”

“What?” Now you were confused. Had he never been on a date? Did he not know how antidate he’d been tonight? Who were you kidding, of course he didn’t. “If you intended for it to be a date- why couldn’t you look at me? Or speak to me? I-I thought I misread your invitation and you realized I thought it was a date and you were uncomfortable.”

“I’m not sure, I didn’t think you could see how uncomfortable I was.” A blind person could’ve seen it. He looked like an annoyed father taking his daughter to buy her first bra. Uncomfortable and ready to leave. “Everything went well at the cafe, but I noticed you kept texting someone and got the impression you were trying to find a reason to leave.”

“I was texting Ochaco, not trying to leave.” Now you felt terrible, it was your fault he couldn’t look at you. He thought you were going to ditch him. “She- she’s been helping me. Giving me advice on what I should do.”

“I see.” His eyes leave yours, his head falling to his hands that prop themselves on his knees. Even though you felt ridiculous, you felt relieved. You both were too nervous for your own good. “She’d been helping me as well, which is why I was so confused. She never told me your feelings for me, but I figured she wouldn’t help me if you didn’t have any.”

“How about we get some sleep and we can revisit this later?” You both had to be up early for patrol, and if you had any luck, your nervous thoughts might allow you a few hours of sleep. “We both misunderstood each other, and I feel ridiculous for crying about it.”

“And I feel terrible I made you cry, that’s the last thing I wanted.” His hand leaves his chin, moving to rest gently on your blanket covered knee. The gesture made your heart race, even if you’d been upset 5 minutes ago. “I’m truly sorry I made you upset, I let my nervous thoughts cloud my judgement and I won’t let it happen again.”

“Nervous?” You’d never seen him nervous, not unless you consider his UA smiling fiasco. He’d worked beside you for years, and not once had he ever seemed nervous. “I make you nervous?”

“Terribly. You always have.” Had you heard him correctly? ‘Always’? “I thought after Fuyumi had invited you to dinner and you had Soba with me after work- that maybe there had been enough time for you to be less uncomfortable if I acted on my feelings.”

There’s that word again. Uncomfortable.

“I’ve never been uncomfortable, I’m the one who was nervous. Was it not obvious?” From shaking hands, being caught staring or even this conversation itself, it was clear you were far more nervous than he’d ever been. “Go get some sleep, we’ll talk about this tomorrow alright?”

“If I ask you to dinner tomorrow after work, would you go as my date?” A smile spreads across your make up stained face, he was adorable and you appreciated he’d clarified for the both of you he was asking you on a date. “If tonight was too much for you, don’t-.”

“I’d love to be your date.”

———

Okay, angst is out of the way 🫡

-Parchy💖

———

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me, seeing someone left me a comment: screaming, running around the room in circles, kicking my feet up in the air, jumping up and down, giggling to myself, squealing, wiggling, dancing around...

me, replying to someone's comment: Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed it. :)

people who write fics. how do you feel about comments on super old ones you wrote like 2+ years ago

beetlejuice!

{beetlejuice!satoru gojo x f!reader}

— “ may you never forget me ” ♪ ༘⋆

summary: living as a psychic medium was like a ticket straight to nothing in your life, you always accidentally creeping people out and scaring them when you talked about it, and you just feeling empty— like something was missing and vacant in your life with no explanation as to why. but upon stumbling through an attic inside a house of a recently deceased couple, you meet him— beetlejuice, a silly and wacky man who was damned to live in the attic for eternity due to him breaking the rules, you never having met a spirit so forward and flirtatious in your life as you quickly bonded. but when beetlejuice presents the idea of you being able to break his contract and finally set him free, you hesitate at the one condition… marrying him.

warnings: MDNI afab!reader, DIABOLICAL angst my god, angst w/ comfort though YIPPEEE, mentions of death, mentions of murder, reader is a psychic medium, fluuufff, SMUUUTTT, p in v sex, DOM AFF SATORU MEOOWWW, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all), creampie, oral, blowie, mentions of ghosts and spirits and things, loosely inspired by the 80s movie, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)

word count: 19.8k

authors note: YEEEEEOOOOWWWW GET READY YALL….. SHES FREAKY… SHES ANGSTY… AND SHES THE MOMEEEENNTTTT omg i absolutely LOOOVEDDD writing this one so much and i hope you guys find it interesting or i’m gonna CRYYYY HEHEHEH no i’m jk but as always, i love you SO SO SO much and thank you for all of your love and support !! MWAAAHHH <333

you’ve always had a knack for the paranormal.

and from the newspaper clippings you saw and the meddlesome whisperings of your fellow neighbors, newlyweds adam and barbara maitland died on their way home from a day out in the town— swerving in their vehicle while crossing over a bridge and crashing through the side of it, evidently sending themselves tumbling down to the river below and drowning.

it was the biggest tragedy your tiny town had ever been hit with, the maitland’s having renovated their house on the hill from scratch and had recently just finished it when the accident happened, the both of them in the midst of planning their honeymoon to get away from winter river for a little while, happy and in love and looking forward to a quiet serene life together.

it was a shame, really, and it only took two weeks for rumors to spread about how there were always weird moving shadows from the windows of their two story home, or slight flashings of neon blue or white seeping through the cracks of their front door— all of which pissed the realtors off seeing as the rumors prevented the house from being sold again, prospected buyers coming in with high hopes only to be scared off once they so even explored the town, a store clerk or a fellow neighbor quick to tell them of the gossip and to stay away, ultimately causing the house to collect dust and cobwebs until realtors decided they wouldn’t bother much with it anymore.

and the rumors always peaked your interest, as your entire life you’ve always had a passion for the supernatural seeing as your late parents were psychic mediums for the otherworldly, a beautiful ominous gift that was relayed to you from the moment you were able to correctly comprehend sentences, your mind and soul more welcoming to spirits of the unknown compared to regular folk who flat out refused.

and why? you didn’t know. they were just mystic entities that perhaps couldn’t find their way to the other side like they were intended, and if the rumors were true, the maitland’s were in the same predicament, and you felt like they just needed time and space without the pestering of realtors or dumb kids knocking on the windows to see if a ghost would pop out— deserving of a proper chance to figure it out.

except your boyfriend wouldn’t understand that either.

“babe c’mon!” he pleaded with you, a distressed look on his face. “i thought you liked creepy ghost shit?”

you scoffed. “yes rin but not to fucking break in and steal their things! what the hell’s the matter with you?!”

rin groaned and rubbed his eyes, his friends obviously annoyed and bothered by your defiance and it only made you feel awkward, sitting there on your desk chair in your college dorm and guiltily picking at your black nail polish.

“y/n we literally cannot go if you don’t go.” he pushed. “we need your ghost brain to tell us if they’re around so we can scram if they decide to kill us.”

you snorted, already aggravated by rin’s lack of respect and wholeheartedly believing dumb stereotypes.

“you’re committing a crime—”

“the house is abandoned! no one gives a shit!” he threw his arms up. “babe c’mon i’m serious it’s getting late and we’re losing time.”

why wasn’t he listening?

“what are you looking for anyways?” you mumbled.

“money.” he replied, grabbing his black bag and swinging it over his shoulder. “that’s literally it i won’t take anything else.”

“do you swear?” you peered up at him. “don’t take jewelry or any of their things just money and we get out.”

“yeah we won’t! right guys?”

rin looked over both of his shoulders to ensure that his friends agreed, them muttering and sighing as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek and feeling embarrassed for some reason, slowly standing and crossing your arms.

you never liked his friends.

“and leave me out of it okay?” you spoke. “we could get kicked out of college for this i don’t know how you’re not worried…”

he swung a heavy arm around your shoulders and nudged you on, you stumbling a bit as he basically had a lock around your neck on your way outside.

“they’re not gonna care y/n.” he dismissed, unlocking the car and his friends piling in the back while you settled in the passenger seat. “nobody will. it’s abandoned.”

the entire way there you were aggravated and guilty, rin and his friends babbling on about the valuable things they’d hope to find and the kind of ghosts they thought would appear, not a single person in the car an actual believer of those paranormal rumors as they poked fun and teased, your forehead against the glass of the window and miserable as rin drove up the steep hill— the night chilly and so dark that you could barely make out the shape of the house until you were just about to pull up to the driveway.

rin turned off his headlights and tuned down the radio to avoid drawing attention, steering wheel shifting a little to the right so the car could gradually round over and stop next to the front steps of the porch— rin shutting off the ignition once he parked and stuffing his keys into his pocket.

and you could immediately feel a presence even from outside the house, your arms stiff and tingly as you all quietly got out of the car and made your way to the stairs, dry dirt crinkling beneath your shoes as you tried to swallow back your nerves knowing that at any moment you could all be fucking arrested.

“are you sensing ghosts?” rin whispered, a sly teasing grin on his face as the floorboards of the porch creaked with your movements, his hand reaching and jiggling the doorknob.

“yeah.”

his eyes snapped over to you. “…really? yeah right.”

“no i’m serious.” you whispered back. “what did you bring me for if you’re not even gonna believe when i tell you—”

“okay! okay i’m sorry.” he apologized, though it didn’t seem genuine as he patted your back. “i believe you trust me.”

“wait— she said there’s ghosts?” one of his friends piped up. “how do you know?”

you went to answer but rin beat you to it.

“she’s a psychic… i guess.” he unzipped his bag and pulled out a mini tool kit, a mix of screwdrivers and bobby pins inside. “she can sense them.”

“oh my god…” another one mumbled, all of his friends eerie now. “rin— i thought you said those rumors were bullshit.”

your eyes narrowed. “you said that?”

“no!— i mean, technically yes but—” he took two bobby pins from the kit and put the rest of the box away, hunching down to lock pick the knob. “you guys really think any of that is real? it’s just the neighbors man they’re bored—”

“people here don’t just make up rumors like that rin.” you cut him off. “the majority of winter river is elderly and in retirement why the fuck would they be making up—”

“because they’re old and bored—”

the lock released a prominent click and rin tested the doorknob again, this time it turning all the way and opening as he pushed it wide, you all proceeding cautiously and it somehow being colder inside than it was outside as the group shined their flashlights around every corner and space, not bothering to tell your boyfriend that the presence you felt earlier was ten times stronger now, for rin never really believed you or just thought you were being funny whenever you mentioned things like that to him.

you had known rin since the start of college, him always the rebel dickish type as he didn’t follow directions or liked whenever people tried to tell him what to do, and how you ended up crossing paths with him and it sticking was something that was a mystery to you.

rin was everything you wanted at first.

and though he was a bit selfish, you foolishly looked past the fact and let him meddle his way into your already monotonous life, it being hard for you to make friends in the first place because of your psychic abilities— always feeling like something was missing and… vacant for years growing up without any explanation as to exactly why, figuring it was just the side effects of your parents’ passing.

but it still didn’t help when you’d accidentally partake in scaring off and weirding people out when you mentioned that you just saw their deceased relative wander by, rin being one of the first to actually stay because he didn’t believe you, choosing to turn a blind eye to something you treasured about yourself the most, stuck and left to wonder if there was ever someone who did.

but turning a blind eye to just your psychic ability became him turning a blind eye to everything about you, and you felt like he never really listened to what you had to say or cared, often switching the topic back to himself or giving you a series of ‘mhm’s’ and ‘yeah’s’ to get you to move on.

you didn’t feel seen anymore, but you loved him still for some reason.

“where do we even look?” one of his friends whispered, the lot of you traveling as a group through the entry room and down the hall to the kitchen.

“wherever you think a money bank would be.” rin mumbled, leading you all and going round to the living room, his flashlight shining over dusty furniture and spiderwebs. “i think it’d be better if we split up. half of us can take upstairs and the others can look through the kitchen, y/n and i are gonna dig through here for a bit—”

“what?” you spoke, his friends nodding and walking off to their designated areas. “rin no i told you i’m not—”

“oh my god babe— would it really hurt you to just peek in some freaking drawers? let me know if something looks like it has money in it alright?”

he stepped over to the middle and crouched by the coffee table, opening and closing several compartments. “be useful please.”

you scoffed. “you’re the one who dragged me here and i told you i wasn’t getting involved.”

“you’re not.” he mumbled, standing back up and going over to a big brown dresser on the side. “just look at shit and don’t touch anything. tell me if you see money.”

you rubbed your cheek in exhausted frustration, thinking it’d be better to just mindlessly look around to appease him as you caught and stared at the photographs over by the fireplace— a wedding portrait of whom you assumed to be adam and barbara maitland propped up amongst others of family and friends, your fingers raising to gently wipe away the dirt and grime from the glass to get a clearer look of them.

you felt awful that their lives were taken from them just when they had built such a loving foundation for it, and you felt even more awful that rin and his stupid friends were invading their space and stealing in the way that they were with no sense of respect.

a sudden loud thud from upstairs made you and rin stop in your tracks, the both of you unmoving as you tried to listen.

“i’m gonna—” you gnawed at your bottom lip. “i’m gonna check upstairs—”

“no absolutely not.” rin shook his head. “it’s probably just my friends it’s fine.”

“if it’s the maitland’s your friends aren’t gonna know what to do besides shit themselves—”

“okay yeah sure.” he laughed, opening and closing different drawers from top to bottom. “it’s the house babe it’s old and worn out. maybe the— wood or whatever is acting up.”

you pursed your lips, arms crossing and apprehensive as you stood next to him, knowing with everything in you that the maitland’s were definitely still present.

“can we please just go rin...” you asked softly. “please we’ll— we’ll find a different building that’s actually abandoned and doesn’t have the maitland’s still here—”

he scoffed. “y/n this one is abandoned.“

“but it’s only been three months!” you exclaimed. “i don’t wanna do this to them—”

“—oh sweet! there’s a rolex in here—”

“no!” you snatched the watch from his upheld hand and backed away towards the fireplace. “you swore to me just money these are their things—”

“y/n they’re dead! who fucking cares? all of their shit’s gonna be donated might as well pawn it.”

“yeah for your own benefit right?” you mumbled, pushing past him and walking down the hall. “i’m going home.”

he looked at you baffled. “are you serious? over a dumb watch?”

“rin you’ve gone back on everything you promised and you’re not taking me seriously—”

“did i take the watch? no i didn’t so stop—”

“i’m not talking about just the watch!”

“you know what?! fine!” rin shoved a hand in his pocket and pulled out his keys, chucking them at you and hitting against your chest as you scrambled to catch them. “go wait in the car.”

you threw them back and they hit his upper arm, his eyes narrowing at you in return as he then bent down to grab them from the floor.

“i’m not waiting in the damn car i’m walking home.”

“you’re walking?” he shook his head. “back to your dorm? that’s gonna take you like an hour y/n.”

you shrugged.

“fine go i don’t give a shit.” rin muttered and rolled his eyes. “you always do this man—”

you didn’t bother to stick around for anything else he had to say as you trudged on down the hall and back to the main entryway, tears brimming your eyes at the lack of care he had for you and scolding yourself for the thousandth time for staying with him, trying to understand why he was like this with you when all you’ve ever done was be patient and give him the benefit of the doubt when he didn’t fucking deserve it.

it was hard for you to tell if he even loved you anymore, and you always psyched yourself out that he did whenever he’d barely just accomplish doing the bare minimum.

upon arriving at the front door, you placed the rolex gently on a lonesome night stand by the coat hanger, your hand reaching and turning the knob to step outside until another loud thud shook through the walls, and louder this time as you pulled back and craned your head to look up the stairs.

muffled voices seeped from the top as they gasped and whispered to each other to shush, you recognizing some to be rin’s friends with irritation and worry simmering in your brain, wondering if they were messing with the maitland’s things and stealing what they weren’t supposed to steal, as they were just as uncaring and selfish as rin was throughout the time that you’ve gotten to know them.

and with that in mind, you let go of the doorknob and quietly walked up the stairs, every creak and groan from the wooden slabs underneath your feet making you wince as you went further and further until you reached the top, you sighing as you saw that the maitland’s room door was wide fucking open and with snickering inside.

but with each step that you took to get closer… the more prominent the goosebumps on your arms became and the heavier the feeling in your gut grew, a strange apparent flickering light from your right blinding your vision for a moment as you stopped and turned to look.

your eyes slightly widened, a neon lime green foggy light practically oozing from the attic staircase as it streamed over half of your frame, luring you in with your body mindlessly and curiously walking towards it and up the rugged squeaky stairs, fingers quickly reaching up to swing the attic door open and halting in alarm once you did, the green aluminous light from earlier completely encasing you entirely now as you stepped forward inside the attic.

the door swung and slammed itself shut suddenly, you jumping and spinning around with hurried hands coming up to pull and tug at the knob, breathing irregular upon realizing that it wouldn’t fucking budge and was somehow jammed with no explanation as to exactly how—

“boyfriend troubles?”

“oh my god!” you screamed, hand flying over your heart as your eyes snapped to the source, a tall lanky man standing there with a little grin and vibrant pale blue eyes that only utterly confused you, his vertically stripped black and white suit peculiar and unique as your frantic eyes darted over his figure.

you knew for a fact that the strange man before you wasn’t adam maitland, for the way he looked now didn’t match the pictures you saw in the newspapers at all, you swallowing thickly and slowly backing up against the attic door with your heart dropping straight down to your ass.

who the fuck was he? was he— was he a spirit? because if not there’s a random man literally just basking and relaxing inside the—

“relax! relax jeez you look like you’re about to vomit sweets.”

sweets?

“are you dead?!” you blurted, hand scrambling behind you for the doorknob. “are you— are you alive how are you—”

he laughed loudly and wiggled his little index finger— scrunching it up and down to elicit a ‘yes’ and finding your skittishness a little funny.

“yup! so dead very dead.”

“o— oh… okay...” you spoke softly, tense shoulders gradually relaxing as you gave him a small timid smile, relieved that he wasn’t a freaking squatter and doing god knows what up in the attic.

“you seem happier to see a dead man rather than a live one...” he looked at you amusedly. “you like ghosts? scary stuff? haunted houses? handsome me?—”

you nearly choked on your spit at his last comment, an awkward smile wobbling across your face as you played with your fingers.

“i— i um..” you looked around, your eyes catching a book titled ‘handbook for the recently deceased’ sitting neatly on a dusty table by the door. “you could say that.. but—”

you hesitated, the man’s head tilting to the side as he waited for you to continue.

“but what pretty?”

you blushed furiously, never having met a spirit so forward before.

“sorry but— how did you end up here?” you stood on your tippy toes to peer over his shoulders and around the attic. “and where are the maitlands?”

“oh, those lousy goodie two shoed meanies?” he mumbled, pouting and bitter as he crossed his arms. “beats me..”

you laughed a little, guard slowly coming down as he didn’t seem or feel like a bad person to you, and you thought that perhaps he was in the same boat as the maitlands and was just trying to find his way to the other side.

“why are they meanies?” you smiled, and he reciprocated, arms falling to his sides.

“well— i’m kind of being held in the attic against my will by the— holy shit wait!”

he threw his hands out in front of him and took quick stride full steps towards you, a wild excited expression on his face and you stiffening up again, backing up against the door.

“you can help me!”

“help… you..?” you squeaked.

he vigorously nodded. “yeah! the butthead caseworkers down in the netherworld banned me from leaving the attic… but you can give me a little leg room in my contract sweets!”

netherworld— caseworkers— banned—

“huh?!” you exclaimed, brows furrowed and utterly confused at everything he was fucking saying.

you’ve only ever seen spirits from afar or casually talked to them about something fleeting before they went on their marry way, but never in your life have you met such a complex soul that was so animate and asking you for a favor straight off the bat… as spirits usually just— knew what they were doing and eventually figured out how to get to the great beyond.

so the subject of caseworkers and the netherworld and whatever the fuck else he was rambling on about was something you were not familiar with.

“i did something they didn’t like.” he gave you a boyish half smile. “so they did some ritual thing and now i can’t leave the attic.”

you frowned. “why would they do that? what did you do?”

he waved you off and swung an arm around your shoulders, pulling you forward with him towards a huge 3D model in the center of the room that you barely just noticed— intricate and detailed and colorful as your brain put two and two together and figured out that it was a model of the entire city of winter river.

“don’t worry about it! but i overheard juno telling her assistants not to say my name three times or else i’ll be let out to roam around the house—”

juno? who’s juno?

“—and that’s why i really need you sweets because i’m dying in this fucking attic… way more than i already am.”

you blinked at him. “i’ve never— i’ve seen spirits all my life and i’ve never had any of them tell me about caseworkers? and juno? who’s juno?”

“the rule is that the land of the living isn’t supposed to know.” he pursed his lips and dropped his arm from your shoulders, picking up the book that you had spotted earlier and passing it to you. “says it in the handbook.”

you timidly took it from him and flittered through the pages, old and crinkly and a little worn out as the gist of the pages you saw was a guide for those beginning their post-livelihood and the steps they needed to do so— from waiting rooms in the netherworld to being assigned a caseworker to help you out to the great beyond and so forth, your eyes falling on a particular page and catching specific line.

‘live people ignore the strange and unusual.’

they do. wrongfully they do.

and since people had been ignoring you out of fear your whole life… did that mean you were strange and unusual too?

“what?” the unknown man spoke, softly as his blue gaze switched between your solemn expression and the book, shifting his position to stand right next to you and see what you were looking at.

“oh sorry!” you laughed it off, closing the book and placing it down. “nothing i was just—”

“‘live people ignore the strange and unusual?’” he repeated. “what about it?”

you shook your head and sent him a small smile. “nothing! i was just looking—”

“just because you can see spirits doesn’t mean you’re strange or unusual.”

you stilled, eyes big as you watched the way he froze up over what he said, sheepishly relaxing after a moment and lifting an arm to pat over your head.

“sorry pretty. i can read and manipulate minds and i poked in yours...” he looked at you apologetically. “it’s another reason why they threw me in this shit hole.”

he dropped his hand then, a sincere glint in his eyes. “but i mean it.”

“i don’t know…” you mumbled, looking down and playing with the hem of your skirt. “i’ve never really had friends because of it… and i feel like that book kind of confirmed what i’ve been thinking.”

you quickly picked your head up. “oh but— it’s okay! i’m okay i’m used to it spirits are nicer anyways and i’ve always been alone so—”

“that’s not true.” he mumbled.

your brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

he funnily froze up again. “what do i mean what?”

“what’s not true?”

“oh! that— that spirits are nicer!” he quickly sputtered. “they’re assholes. all of them. every single one. including me!”

you giggled at his franticness and a smile spread across his face at that, endearing as he watched you slowly cheer up.

“people’s ignorance doesn’t define who you are sweets.” he spoke gently. “so don’t give them that right. you look perfectly fine to me!”

your eyes softened, wondering what the hell this man did that made the caseworkers down in the netherworld ritual him into a contract, as you were convinced it wasn’t even that bad at all and just straight up unfair, him being one of the kindest and silliest souls you’ve probably ever had the privilege to come across.

“i’ll help you.”

his eyes snapped to yours. “huh?”

“i’ll help you!” you spoke sweetly. “i’ll say your name three times so you can leave the attic.”

“wha— really?!” he exclaimed excitedly, hands animatedly flying everywhere as they went from digging into his white locks to all over his suit and then thrown out to grip over your shoulders, shaking you as you giggled again. “holy shit will you actually?!”

“yeah! why not?” you grinned. “i don’t think it’s right that you’re stuck up here all alone.”

“angel! angel! you’re an angel!” he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and stuffed your face into his chest, squishing you so fucking tight and honestly holding you way longer than he should’ve, but you not minding one tiny bit as you hugged him back and smoothed a comforting friendly hand over his broad shoulders.

“what’s your name then?” you muffled against his suit. “so i can—”

“ahhh fuck.” he muttered. “i forgot about one thing.”

you pulled back a little. “hm?”

“i can’t tell you my name.”

“what?” you looked at him confusedly. “what do you mean? why not?”

“it’s part of the stupid contract sweets...” he sighed heavily. “but i can give you clues! ooo!— like charades! ready?”

“oh! o—okay!” you nodded, him finally letting you go and stepping back.

“don’t freak out.” he grinned in a silly way. “i’m about to make things show up.”

your eyebrows furrowed. “make things show up?”

he waved his hand and a life sized fucking black bug appeared out of nowhere, landing on one of the old wooden rocking chairs in the corner of the room as it wiggled its little legs and peered around, you screaming and flying behind the strange blue eyed man while he laughed loudly and looked over his shoulders for you.

“it’s okay! just a figment of your imagination is all.” he cheesed. “but guess now!”

“guess what?!” you shrieked.

“what that is!” he pointed to the bug.

you peeked an eye out from his side, the bug still gross and horrifying as it wiggled it’s antennas.

“a bug!”

“what kind?”

“a beetle!”

“yes!” he nodded vigorously. “okay that’s the first part!”

“your name starts with beetle?!—”

he waved his hand again and the bug disappeared, a carton of orange juice replacing it instead and floating in mid air, a shiny glass cup next to it as you amazedly watched it pour its bright orange contents into the cup without spilling a single drop.

“…orange juice?” you spoke softly, timidly coming around from behind him. “your names beetle orange juice?”

“not quite!” he made a drinking motion with his hand.

“beetle drinking orange juice?”

he laughed. “no! you’re adding too many words pretty take some out.”

“beetle drinking juice?”

“nope.”

“beetle drinking orange?”

“colder.”

“beetlejuice?—”

“yes!” he threw his hands out, eyes wild and excited. “yes that! and you’ve already said it once now just two more times—”

“beetlejuice.”

“uh huh uh huh—”

“beetle— mmph!”

a pair of hands clasped over your mouth from behind you and pulled you back, you letting out a muffled scream as you thrashed and quickly pried their fingers away, you spinning around and fully expecting to see rin behind you with a shit eating grin and laughing in your face for scaring you.

except it wasn’t rin.

it was the maitlands.

“don’t say his name honey.” barbara spoke first. “trust me… don’t.”

“i mean— are we sure about this sweetheart?” adam looked at his wife. “maybe he isn’t all that bad… hell we don’t even know for sure—”

barbara shook her head. “adam, did you not hear a word juno said? he was about to take advantage of that poor girl!”

take advantage?

you heard a scoff behind you and you turned around, a disgruntled and pissed off look on beetlejuice’s face as he crossed his arms.

“jeez i know you don’t like me but that’s low.” he mumbled. “i wouldn’t do something like that.”

your head turned back to barbara. “you know who juno is?”

she nodded. “juno’s our caseworker… we got assigned to her in the netherworld after we died.”

“took us three months waiting in the waiting room until she finally got to us.” adam added, chuckling in humorous disbelief. “but all she really did was nag at us and warn us about him.”

adam pointed behind you and you turned around again, beetlejuice bitterly looking to the side with his lips pursed.

oh god.

had he been feeding you nonsense this entire time?

“warn about what.” you mumbled, and beetlejuice snapped his head in your direction with anxious eyes.

“juno calls him a bio-exorcist.” barbara informed you. “he tried to illegally cross over to the land of the living and bring himself back to life.”

your eyes bulged open. “back to life? how?”

“you switch souls with someone else through a ritual.” adam piped in. “juno says he attempted to trick and switch souls with somebody that was alive so he could terminate all who were living… and they didn’t even know about it.”

“that’s not true!” beetlejuice countered, utterly exasperated. “the old hag made that up!”

he quickly walked towards you, taking your hands in his and looking at you pleadingly.

“please sweets you’ve gotta believe me i never wanted to kill anybody—”

you ripped your hands away and glared. “so this entire time you’ve been lying, playing some hopeless victim so you can poke into my head and find out shit about me to use to your advantage?—”

“no! no i— i haven’t been lying about anything it’s juno!”

“juno.” you repeated coldly. “and what’s she lying about exactly.”

“about killing the living!” he threw his hands out in emphasis. “she literally pulled that out of her ass when her and her minions banned me—”

“and what about tricking that person to switch souls with you so you can come back?”

he faltered, words completely failing him and guilty eyes looking into yours so deeply that it nearly made you feel bad for yelling at him.

“that’s… that’s true.”

you let out a breath of disbelief and barbara put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently and comfortingly as she looked at you with caring eyes.

“we don’t know what to believe either honey.” she began. “it’s a lot of he said she said… but it’s better to be safe. he tried to get us to say his name three times too in exchange for his help.”

you quirked a brow. “help? what do you guys need help with?”

“your buddies downstairs.” adam sighed. “they’re stealing our things and just messing up the house… but we’ve been watching you and we know you’ve been trying to get them out and so have we… horrendously though.”

“oh my god—” you slapped a hand over your gaping mouth. “i totally forgot about them! i’m so so sorry oh my god i can’t even begin to explain to you how embarrassing this is i’ve been telling them to stop—”

barbara laughed and waved you off. “it’s alright! we know sweetheart. but we’re not frightening enough to scare them off whatsoever… so that’s what we were trying to get his help for.”

“and i still can y’know…” he muttered. “even though you hate me.”

“i don’t hate you juno does.” she crossed her arms and leaned her weight on one side of her hip. “adam and i are lost we don’t know what’s going on and we can’t even read that thing for the recently deceased.”

“we’re just trying to get them out of the house son…” adam finished off.

and in that moment you felt like you were the one responsible for this. that if you had bitched about it harder, even screamed at rin to get him to stop or damn near called the fucking cops on them so that this wouldn’t be happening right now… the maitlands wouldn’t have to suffer and struggle like this every waking day to protect their home and what rightfully still belonged to them even after death.

because the maitland’s roaming around and producing shadows and figures and scaring the realtors and prospected buyers off wasn’t just for shits and giggles… but to try and keep what was once theirs and feel a sense of normalcy for the life they once had.

that was their great beyond. their home.

“i’ll get them to leave.” you smiled at barbara and adam. “i don’t care if i literally have to start fist fighting with his friends this is so unfair—”

“wait! are— are you sure sweets?” beetlejuice interjected worriedly. “your boyfriend’s kind of nuts and i can’t help you once you leave the attic—”

“i’m sure.” you mumbled, still bitter and annoyed at him. “can’t be anymore nuts than you basically trying to kill someone so you can prance around alive again—”

“i already apologized to the entire netherworld nation for that!” he argued. “but if you ask me, if it’s so bad then they shouldn’t have put the fucking instructions in the guidebook.”

“juno says guidebook reveals to you what you want most.” adam spoke. “because barb and i didn’t see a single page that had to do with that… mostly just tips on how to scare the living.”

beetlejuice closed his eyes exhaustedly and shook his head. “doesn’t matter. i’m not trying to trick anyone right now i just want to get out of this damn attic—”

he looked to you again. “—please say my name three times pretty i’ve poked in your boyfriends head and he’s looney i don’t want you to—”

“i’ll see you guys in a sec!” you walked over to the door and left a sputtering frustrated beetlejuice behind. “if nothing works i’ll literally just take my boyfriends keys and drive the car down the hill, he freaks over that thing—”

your voice trailed off as you walked down the creaky stairs of the attic and down the hall of the second floor, the maitlands main bedroom coming into view as you tried to get a script together in your head as to what exactly you were gonna tell rin… but your footsteps quickening at the sound of loud yelling and laughing coming from inside the bedroom, sounds of glass shattering and moving furniture making you panic as you practically stumbled in from the doorway.

and your heart stopped, rin standing there with a crow bar in his hands that he got from who the fuck knows where, smashing multiple vases and porcelain jewelry cases and stuffing his pockets full of anything that looked shiny and valuable in his eyes, the mattress and blankets thrown over to the side and the mainland’s things just completely ransacked as you took it all in.

“rin!”

he jumped and spun around, brows pinching upon seeing you standing there.

“what are you doing here? i thought you left?”

“what the fuck?!” you gestured to the broken shards on the floor and strewn about articles of clothing. “what the hell is wrong with you?!”

“calm down babe it’s fine.” he turned and smashed another small jewelry case, you scoffing in response. “it’s all useless shit that’s gonna dust over—”

“get out.”

he snorted. “uh huh—”

“i’m serious rin get out.” you spat. “all of you.”

“yeah like i’d listen to you.” he spoke harshly, eyes narrowed and sharp as he turned again. “go wait in the fucking car or go home—”

“i’m calling the cops.”

“what?!”

a series of protests and worrisome comments erupted in the air from the group, all thrown directly at a fuming rin as he chucked his crow bar to the side— it clattering on the wooden floor as he hastily trudged over to you and gripped your upper arm, yanking you with him and out of the room into the hallway by the stairs.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing huh?” he spoke lowly and in your face. “embarrassing me in front of my friends like that?”

you shoved him off. “get out and find another building or i’m calling the cops rin.”

“yeah and if you do that i’m telling them you’re a shitty psychic medium so they can throw you in the shrink.”

your jaw dropped.

rin was being meaner than usual.

“why are you like this.” you mumbled. “i don’t even know why i’m still with you you’re an asshole and you’re pathetic—”

he got in your face again and grabbed your jaw, pressing you up against the railing of the staircase and damn near throwing you over as the edge of it dug into your lower back, your fingers gripping his arm and struggling to pull him away from you while his friends quietly gasped and silently watched in shock.

“pathetic? me?” he laughed humorously. “you’re the one who doesn’t have anything or anyone besides me and yet you still treat me like this you ungrateful bitch—”

“rin okay that’s enough dude let her go—”

“you wanna shut up? or do you wanna trade spots with her?” his fiery crazed eyes switched over to his friend, him only cowering under rin’s intense stare and shaking his head no, diverting his gaze and you still squirming and tugging for your freedom.

“get— off me—”

“or what?” he pushed you further back and your breath hitched, your feet off the ground now at this point as one of your hands shot out to grip the railing for support. “you gonna call your ghost friends for help? go ahead i wanna see you do it you lying—”

“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice!”

a thunderous roar broke out into the air, actual lightning and black smokey fog spreading over the ceiling and around you as rin instantly let you go and looked around, all of his friends in a pure state of fear and alarm as they lost sight of each other amongst the suffocating mist— including you as you frantically tried to look for a clear path out, unable to decide if you regretted what you had just done.

“never seen a man with such a power trip!” a booming voice echoed through the house that you quickly recognized to be beetlejuice’s, the walls vibrating with each word. “seems to me like it’s all bark and no bite!”

“what did you do y/n?!” you heard rin’s distant yelling from somewhere you couldn’t pinpoint, the air cold and prickling at your skin. “who did you call?!”

“a god!” beetlejuice excitedly answered. “achilles preferably! wait actually he’s a demigod not a—”

“who the fuck is achilles?!”

the air cleared in the center suddenly and revealed a petrified rin, wide eyed and angry as he whipped his head around to try and figure out what was going on.

“you don’t know who achilles is?” half of beetlejuice popped out of nowhere from above the fog and his friends screamed at the mere size of him, for he wasn’t the normal looking man you saw before but a borderline monster— huge and crazed as he looked down at rin in particular with a scary grin.

but his eyes were still a fascinating sparkling blue, oddly familiar in a way as you watched the scene before you through the black air, beetlejuice continuing.

“read a book your stupid is showing.”

he lunged while simultaneously popping his eyeballs out of their sockets with his tongue out, cartoonish and terrifying as his friends yelled for help and scrambled to try and leave, struggling though the smothering mist as you placed a hand over your mouth in shock.

beetlejuice sucked his eyeballs back in and blinked to adjust. “what? you guys scared too? shouldn’t have been so mean to my little sweets over there then!”

they all looked to you and you froze, rin’s gaze narrowing.

“his little sweets?” he clenched his jaw. “the hells he talking about?”

beetlejuice didn’t know why rin was so dumb for even attempting at getting near you again after everything he did and said— his footsteps quick and stompy towards you until he straight up smacked into an invisible wall and doubled back with a hand over his nose, your brows pinching in confusion.

you timidly reached a hand out, expecting your fingers to touch an invisible barrier except there wasn’t one at all as they fell through completely over nothing, your arm slowly retracting back to your chest.

you looked up at beetlejuice’s huge figure, and he gave you a bright cute smile that made your cheeks heat up.

“this is bullshit!” rin roared, wiping his bloody nose with the back of his hand and pointing at you after. “you’re a goddamn nutcase y/n! what kind of show are you putting on huh?!”

“me?!” you shot back. “maybe you should stop being a dick for once in your life and listen when i tell you things you idiot.”

“yup!” beetlejuice quipped. “doll if you’re still with him after all of this i’m gonna have to start haunting you in your dreams.”

your gaze switched to beetlejuice and you laughed, a little glint to his eye as he watched you shake your pretty head.

“i was gonna dump him the minute i got him out of the house—”

“what?!” rin barked. “dump me? for what?!”

you scoffed. “are you serious? what do you mean for what?”

“fuck— babe okay i’m sorry alright? i’m sorry i’m just a little overwhelmed right now—”

“you’re a sack of shit.” beetlejuice spat. “and call her babe again and i’ll start the engine of your car and ram it through a tree.”

you snickered and rin swiveled around to face him.

“why don’t you stay out of this freak and leave my girlfriend alone—”

“sweets i’ll make him go away if you marry me.”

you choked, flustered and stiff as you looked at him, bewildered out of your mind.

“huh?!”

“pretty pleeaaseee.” he dragged. “you saying my name got me out of the attic but not the house itself… but if you marry me i’m a free man!”

“how does that—” you let out a shocked breath. “how does that even make sense—”

“marry me.”

“but i!—”

“marry me that’s my condition.”

“hold on!—”

rin dove at you with the full intention to grab you and pull you away, but eyes widening in terror as an invisible force practically grabbed his ankle and sweeped him back and away from you, dragging his body across the wooden floor and over to beetlejuice, his friends having enough of all of this and making a run for it down the stairs.

“oh! i almost forgot about you guys!”

beetlejuice nudged his head and they were sent flying back just like rin, all of them screaming and pleading for mercy as their bodies dragged across the floor and returned to him.

“which of you should i gobble up right now… i’m feeling the one on the far right! he’s trembling like a little leaf—”

“please no!” he cried. “i’ll— i’ll do anything! i’ll leave i’ll never—”

“—and i’ll save rin for the very end… best for last right?!”

they all wailed and clawed at the foggy air, your body unmoving as you tried to figure out if beetlejuice was actually being serious.

“please man!—”

“i’m sorry i’m so sorry!—”

“don’t apologize to me you doofuses.” another invisible force grabbed them all by the ankles and pulled them up, dangling them upside down. “apologize to her. then maybe i’ll spare you… how’s that sound?!”

“y/n! please! i’m sorry—”

“we’re sorry dear god!—”

“y/n!—”

“put— put them down!” you wavered. “that’s enough it’s okay! jesus..”

“awww already?!” beetlejuice pouted. “but i haven’t even started swinging them around yet… like a little ferris wheel! heh.”

you slapped a hand over your mouth to suppress a laugh once rin and his friends started wailing in fear again, you shaking your head and smiling at him.

“it’s okay! next time! just let them go i’m sure they’ll run—”

“y/n, it seems like you understand me… you’re the only one that hasn’t bitten my head off in the entire three years that i’ve been dead!”

you laughed again. “i’m glad! now put them down please—“

“so be my wife then.”

“beetlejuice!”

“what?!” he whined. “you don’t wanna be my lawful wedded wife?”

“no!— well— just—”

“is it because i’m dead?”

“put them down and i’ll consider it!”

“yes ma’am!”

the invisible force dropped them and they slammed against the hardwood floors, each and every single one of them fumbling to get their things that flew out of their pockets while upside down and scurrying away, hurried footsteps stomping down the staircase as they tripped over their feet to get to and out the front door, you observing in amusement and slight guilt, leaning over the edge of the staircase to watch them go.

and the second that they did, the stuffy black fog lifted and felt immensely lighter, it dispersing into the air above you as it thinned out to a mere silly mist, cold and wet to the touch and similar to the air you’d feel after a long days worth of rainfall and cloudy weather, slow strides coming up from behind you as you saw beetlejuice’s shiny raven leather dress shoes out of the corner of your eye, you standing upright and turning to him.

he smiled warmly at you.

“thank you.” you grinned, bashful as he reached and fixed up your hair— hands smoothing over your head and down before his fingers lightly grazed and played with the ends of your strands.

“you’re welcome.” he murmured. “thank you for getting me out of the attic sweets!”

you kindly nodded.

“sweetheart, are you alright?”

you looked back and saw the maitlands, barbara walking up with outstretched arms and pulling you in for a hug.

“that boy was insane!” she pulled back and held you out at an arms length by the shoulders. “we tried so hard to intervene while he was yelling at you but we’re useless… they couldn’t see us.”

you giggled. “no it’s okay! really you didn’t need to i wouldn’t ever wanna put you guys in that position.”

“honey— he almost pushed you off the railing…” adam spoke softly. “if you hadn’t called for beetlejuice lord knows what he would’ve done… he was so aggressive and we were worried…”

your heart warmed, never in your life having been so cared for and looked after— funnily enough that you were receiving that sacred feeling from beings that were dead rather than living and it reminding you a little bit of the way your parents were with you when you were young, when they were still alive.

“we’re sorry for being so hard on you kid…” barbara sighed, gaze shifting to beetlejuice. “mistakes happen. i’m sure your passing was something you weren’t expecting like us.”

“oh! no it’s okay don’t.” he smiled brightly. “i almost killed a man i understand.”

“but we understand too.” adam added, and you felt like he was also referring to something you had no clue about as he had a particular look in his eyes, something that was only amongst them three. “i would’ve considered the same.”

beetlejuice swung an arm around your shoulders and looked down at you.

“so are you my little wife?”

“okay—” barbara laughed. “not that you know this—”

“adam! barbara!”

a sudden shriek boomed through the house and beetlejuice instantly pulled you behind him, waving his hand and an invisible force sending you further away until your back gently bumped against the wall, panic rising in your chest as the same black fog from earlier returned and swirled around you, blocking your vision.

was he… was he hiding you? what for?

“juno!” beetlejuice greeted, laughing awkwardly. “heyy long time no see!”

oh.

“zip it bozo.”

from the cracks and openings that you could see through the whirling wind, a proper old lady in professional office attire stood there with her arms crossed, a pissed off look on her face as she tapped her heel against the floor and played with the pearls around her neck.

“what did i tell you two about letting him free?” she scolded. “he’s a loose cannon! he’s not to be trusted!”

“i know i know we’re sorry… we just really needed to get those kids out! and they’re gone! and beetlejuice seems alright!” barbara looked to her husband, a desperate flicker in her gaze. “right adam?”

“yes! uh uh!” adam stepped forward and sighed softly. “please juno… he’s just a kid. he’s learned and what he did was three years ago—”

“what he did could’ve cost me my job and set my entire office up in flames.” juno lectured, pointing her wrinkly finger at beetlejuice next. “you broke a million undead laws and have hundreds of violation codes on your record. your punishment was to stay in the attic for eternity.”

eternity?

oh god no.

“but now i’m gonna have to send you to live inside mr. maitland’s winter river model and you better stay there!”

“what?!” beetlejuice scoffed. “juno please there’s gotta be a way i can lift those violations?”

“i’m afraid there isn’t.” she seethed.

“pretty please?”

“no.”

“with a cherry on top?”

“absolutely not.”

“not even probation?—”

“not even probation! you’re gone!”

your eyes blew open as you watched juno extend an arm out and move it to the side, a bright white blinding light encasing her entire figure and you quickly pushed a hand through the black fog and grabbed the back of beetlejuice’s suit, everything around you scarily blurring out and disappearing and you squeezed your eyes shut, arms reaching out to wrap around his upper torso as you buried your face in his back.

you didn’t want him to go… not at all. and the thought of him stuck inside a model forever like that all alone terrified you.

you understood why he was punished in the first place, but why couldn’t juno just see that he was good? that all he was trying to do was come back to life and live? something many other souls would also kill for?

hadn’t he been punished enough already? he stood stuck in that attic for three god damn years straight with no means of escape whatsoever, and now he was shamefully being sent to live inside a styrofoam cardboard model that was far worse than that stupid attic, for now he couldn’t be seen by anyone even if he truly wanted to be.

had that not been enough? enough of a sign to reconsider his contract?

why couldn’t he just be given a second fucking chance—

“pretty?”

you opened your eyes, forehead quickly detaching from his back and looking up, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you worriedly from behind as he shifted his body a little in your hold to face you.

“what are you doing here i thought—” his surprised gaze shifted over to the way you were clutching onto him, and he relaxed, smiling a little.

“you grabbed me baby?”

“i—” you let him go and stepped back, your cheeks a vibrant pinky shade. “y—yeah…”

he turned around fully.

“why?”

“because—” you bit your bottom lip, peering cutely up at him.

“because i thought we were getting married…”

beetlejuice’s expression dropped and he stared at you wide eyed, his face reddening at your words.

“i don’t— i don’t understand—”

“what?” you giggled. “i thought you proposed to me earlier?”

“i did! yes i did!” he rapidly nodded. “but— but are you actually serious?”

you nodded. “mhm! i am!”

“you can say no sweets honestly it’s okay…”beetlejuice spoke softly with pinched brows. “i’ll cry myself to sleep and shrivel up but i can handle it don’t worry about me—”

you laughed and nudged his shoulder with yours. “i wanna marry you… i wanna set you free.”

you walked over to a little bench, the feeling of you stepping on rubber and glue a little weird under your feet as you sat down and smiled, gently patting the spot next to you.

“i’m not letting you stay here forever by yourself, not when you’ve been doing that already for years.” you murmured, him taking a seat next to you with a yearn-full but apprehensive face.

“you deserve to do the things you want to do and see the things you want to see…” you looked at him so sincerely and loving that he felt his undead heart throb. “… and if i can help you in anyway to get you there i don’t care what it is. i can’t think of anyone more deserving of freedom than you.”

“you’re so pure…” he softly took your hand, yours warm and pumping in comparison to his cold and stiff one. “you always have been.”

he stared at your hand still, his index finger delicately tracing over the faint markings of your working veins underneath your skin, trying to remember what they looked like on him when he was alive, and if they ever looked as precious as yours did.

beetlejuice raised your hand and kissed it, eliciting a fuzzy blush to your cheeks.

“i think we’re meant to be.”

you faltered slightly, for you felt a rush of deja vu hit you like a stifling wave.

“have we met?” you teasingly asked. “before you died?”

he laughed and shook his head.

you sat in comfortable silence for a moment, beetlejuice still tracing the lines and indentations of your hand before you spoke up again.

“i have a question.”

his content eyes switched to yours before they looked back down. “yes sweets?”

“is your name really beetlejuice?”

he weirdly stopped, and you quirked a brow.

“it’s…” he swallowed. “it’s not.”

“oh what the?” you paused, a little puzzled. “where did it come from?”

“juno.” he snickered. “the old hag said it fit how bizarre and stupid i was, so she put it in my contract.”

“oh my fucking god.” you mumbled. “why the hell would she do that? that’s cruel… you’ve already paid the price for what you did the least she could do is address you by your given name.”

beetlejuice laughed cutely, his eyes twinkling as he looked at you.

“that woman doesn’t care baby… so don’t sweat it.” he lifted a hand and ruffled your hair. “and if you ask me, she needs to retire immediately. like— yesterday. all she does is fucking nag at me and the rest of her damn clients.”

you giggled.

“so what’s your name then?”

“not important! now i say we figure out a way to get out of this rinky dink model—”

your eyes narrowed.

“why won’t you tell me your name?”

“—or maybe we should just stay and make ourselves at home!—”

“you won’t tell your soon to be wife your name?—”

“—oh! oh! i can manifest a little jacuzzi in the middle of the cemetery that’s neat—”

you slapped a hand over his mouth and he stopped, your pleading little eyes making him guiltily melt against your hold.

“your name.” you urged softly, lowering your hand and revealing a little frown that he had on his lips. “please.”

“i—” he blinked, utterly remorseful. “i can’t… i can’t tell you my name.”

your brows pinched. “why not? is part of your contract?”

“no— well yes.” he sighed deeply through his nose, and you wondered why he looked so… strained.

“it’s not their contract, but my contract… with you.”

you froze.

“with—” you struggled. “i don’t—”

he rubbed his tired sunken eyes.

“it’s okay sweets but that’s all you need to know—”

“no.” you replied firmly. “what i need to know is your name.”

he dropped his arms and shook his head desperately. “y/n please i put that contract on you to protect you if— if i tell you my name you’ll be hurt and i don’t want that—”

“what do you mean?” you bitterly scooched away from him on the bench and he stubbornly moved closer, eliminating the distance you had created.

“i lied when you asked me if we had met.”

your heart dropped.

“because we have… and i— i wanted you to forget me so i took away your memories and if i tell you my name—”

he swallowed hard.

“… it’ll break the contract. and you’ll remember me again.”

you stared at him, his regretful tortured gaze so anguishing that it was almost unbearable to watch him endure it, wanting to mend it instead, something that already felt so right and easy to you and in no way shape or form unfamiliar.

slowly, you reached up and cupped his cold cheeks in your hands, bringing his forehead to rest against yours.

“but i want to remember you…” you murmured. “…please let me.”

his pupils worriedly shook as they darted all around your striking features, his name practically hanging off the edge of his tongue but his throat physically unable to get the words out, for his dead heart was pulling and fighting with his vocal chords to prevent him from doing so, everything within him wanting to save you from memories he had to live with even after death.

but the other part of him was filled with such intense longing for you that it effortlessly slipped between the cracks of his defensive wall of not telling you his name…the relentless feeling going straight to his heart and mind and strangling the fuck out of it to get a formidable yes instead.

he wanted the life he once had. more than anything.

“satoru.”

something snapped in your brain and you flinched back, memories flooding through your mind faster than the speed of light as you recollected each and every moment in your existence, for the sentiment of vacancy and like a specific thing was just missing in your life was finally put back in its rightful place— for the thing that was missing in particular was him.

satoru gojo.

there were images of meeting him when you were both itty bitty in middle school under a magnolia tree, him sporadic and silly and making you laugh so hard on the third day of school that strawberry milk blew out of your nose and all over his clothes, satoru not having a care in the world as he cackled along with you and thought the way you made liquid come out of your nose was cool.

and there were images of the both of you becoming the best of friends— never one without the other as you pulled pranks on your teachers and ended up in detention together almost everyday, your parents utterly done with you as you never seemed to get it through your head how to behave, the both of you brushing off your scoldings and lectures because you had each other to endure all of it with.

and you saw how much he cared about you.

how he would physically fight and yell and reprimand anyone who called you a freak, anyone who spread rumors about you and your psychic medium abilities as he constantly reminded you everyday that your gift was sacred… a treasure while he wiped your tear stained cheeks and cheered you up after another day of your classmates poking fun at you, him saying that your skills were the coolest and how much he wished he was just like you, how much you both were meant to be as he loved ghost stories and scary stuff.

you saw how you fell in love too.

and it didn’t take long either, as your stolen glances and teasing turned into much more as soon as you grew and went to high school together, the both of you making it official literally your freshman year despite the apprehensions from your parents on both sides because of how young you were.

but it never proved to be an issue, you and satoru not once stumbling over a hiccup since the two of you had built such a strong foundation of genuine friendship and care before you blessedly fell in love, satoru throughout your years together absolutely smitten over you as he always passed you silly notes during class that had a gazillion hearts scribbled all across with your name in the middle, telling you all of the time just how much he loved and cherished you to the point where you had to funnily push him away from you to get him to stop smothering you, you always giving in anyways due to the fact that you were just as smitten, physically unable to go a day without him, and him still physically unable to not iterate how you were meant to be.

satoru understood you, satoru listened to you, and satoru believed you whenever you would speak on your psychic gift and how you had spoken casually to a spirit just the other day, him always interested and unbelievably amazed at everything you had to say as he bombarded you with fifty questions and begged you to teach him how to see spirits too.

he was respectful and supportive of you through it all.

especially when your parents died.

satoru wouldn’t leave your side. he refused to as you tried to piece together what the fuck had just happened, their accident so sudden and weird that it never made sense to you and still didn’t to this day.

and you grieved of course, cried and weeped and clung to satoru like a moth to a flame, feeling alone and without your biggest support system— without your loving peculiar parents that gave you your priceless gift in the first place, him accepting your tears with open arms as he encouraged you to let it all out and was worried for you when it seemed like you had moved on rather quickly from it.

but it was simply because your parents weren’t afraid of the afterlife. it was because your parents had talked so much about it and taught you everything that they knew, that you were convinced their souls peacefully made it through to the great beyond straight away and together, for you never saw their spirits roaming around aimlessly after and feeling eternally grateful for that, your whole life being about acknowledging and embracing the mysteries of life after death.

the knowledge of knowing they were at peace was enough to get you by for a little while.

satoru continued to check in on you about it though... even when it was the end of your junior year and nearing a year since their passing, his parents kindly taking you in after the ordeal and making satoru sleep on the floor and you taking over his bed since they didn’t have an extra room, satoru doing it without even needing to be told and you thanking all of them any chance you got for their amicable kindness and tried to pay them back, satoru checking in on you every night with a series of timid ‘are you okay’s’ and ‘are you happy’s’ before going to bed, your arm dangling off the edge so you could intertwine your fingers while you slept.

you were never alone like you thought you were. ever.

because of satoru.

and he made it obvious that he wanted to marry you too, that he wanted to have you for the rest of his life and didn’t give a single shit if you were both only 18 and barely starting college, him deeming it pointless for the both of you to pretend like the hope of marriage wasn’t there just for the sake of shutting up his parents, as every time he brought it up you stammered and blushed and fidgeted and he only giggled at you, telling you it would happen soon, to be ready, and to sit pretty and patient until the right time came.

except it never did.

because satoru gojo died a year later following that on halloween, precisely on his way over to your dorm when he was snatched by an unknown man and murdered in the middle of the night, you stuck wondering what had happened to him and why he wasn’t answering the phone when he was hours late to come get you, your chest on fire and aching as the feeling in your gut was weirdly excruciating, a part of you completely torn away and lost and you had no idea why until the very next morning.

and he had to watch you mourn. properly this time and not at all like the way you did for your parents, as this time it was fucking worse, painfully and all alone and for no way for him to get to you and comfort you— to tell you it was okay to cry and that he loved you, to tell you to be happy, to be hopeful for the future and hopeful to the thought of spending the rest of your lives together and being meant to be.

but instead he had to watch you wail and scream in your pillow every night with no saving, clutching his clothes and things and picture frames, you making yourself sick as the grief was too much to bare— everything that your parents had said to you and taught you about the afterlife meaning absolutely jack shit as the workings of supposed fate took away the only thing that ever made you happy.

satoru’s dream was to live with you. and it was taken away from him so brutally that he went absolutely nuts in the netherworld.

because yes he violated every single fucking undead law in the book and jumped over restricted gates and strange passage ways and doors, shoved through emotionless security guards, ignored juno’s warnings, and yes he tricked a living human being so he could exchange souls with him—

all for the sole purpose of getting back to you.

it was always for you.

and now, him sitting next to you with an anxious waiting expression, your body and mind now feeling the effects of not having seen him for three entire years and the way your conscious mind grieved for him and his return, his skin sickishly pale and cold but still so handsome nonetheless… absolutely broke you.

it broke you as you let out a strangled hiccup and covered your mouth tightly with both hands, eyes squeezing painfully shut as you reeled over and wailed with a broken heart, for you were mourning the loss of him all over again.

“baby no please—” he quickly caught you and brought you to his chest, his breathing erratic and with the biggest lump in his throat. “see? i didn’t want you to remember i— i wanted you to forget—

you continued to bawl and borderline scream out in agony, his words meaning absolutely nothing at this moment as your mind wouldn’t quit flashing painful memories through your mind, memories that were once entirely missing as they suffocated you with displays of satoru in his grave over and over and over again.

“i can’t—” he frantically looked around for something, anything that would make you feel better before looking back down. “look at me—”

“why did you leave?!” you wailed, pushing him away as the sight of you drowning in your tears ripped him to shreds. “why did you abandon me toru?! why did you—”

“i’m sor—” his voice gave out and he placed a hand over his heart, tears slipping from his eyes. “i’m sorry i’m so sorry i— i never wanted to leave—”

he reached out and tugged you in again, your body slumping against his as he struggled over his sobs.

“i didn’t want to die i tried so hard not to die—”

his words only made you cry harder as he gripped you tighter and shut his mouth, his frame trembling against yours and his tears trickling down and wetting your hair.

“you left me! you were supposed to come— hic— to come get me! you were supposed to marry me!—”

you were babbling mindlessly at this point, your shattered heart taking over the words that were tumbling out of your mouth as you gripped and clawed at his suit, trying to bury yourself in his skin and stay there where you belonged.

he was too cold. and you couldn’t hear a heart beat.

satoru could only cry and bawl with you as he gently rocked you side to side, knowing that there was nothing he could do to make you feel better, and nothing he could do to come back to life.

no matter how much he wanted it.

no matter how much you wanted it.

this is what fate had decided for the two of you.

“i tried so hard.” he mumbled. “i never stopped trying to get to you that’s why juno hates me so much because i’ve violated fucking everything.”

he pressed his lips to your forehead and laid his cheek on it after.

“i got sent to the attic and i couldn’t look after you anymore and i didn’t even get the chance to let you see me either—”

besides the fact that he took your memories, that explained why you never saw his spirit after he died, and you quickly pulled back again and narrowed your bloodshot eyes at him.

“why did you take my memories i never— hic!— i never asked you to i never wanted—”

“because i didn’t want you to grieve over me pretty…” he gently wiped your cheeks while you cried. “you were hurting so much and it was torture watching you suffer like that.”

you sniffled and wiped your eyes with the base of your palm.

“i wanted to see you happy…” satoru finished off.

“was i?”

he dropped his hands and frowned.

“were you?”

“no!” you muttered. “my entire life i’ve felt like something was missing and i didn’t know why… like this— this block in my brain that i couldn’t figure out and it was always just empty and like something was supposed to be there.”

you tucked your hair behind your ear and solemnly looked down, a pulsing headache racking through you from how much you were crying.

“i had to live with the fact that i was alone and that i never had anyone… and i had accepted that too… only this entire time i did have someone. you.”

and oddly enough, through everything that happened— all of the memories that you now remembered and the devastating death of your late boyfriend, you finally felt a little bit less strange and unusual.

because you always thought that something was wrong with you for feeling the way that you did, for craving something— someone that never existed, for wanting to fill the void that you now know satoru once happily sat in, all of these things now officially clicking into place and bringing you the weirdest sense of peace you had probably ever felt.

“i wish you never made me forget.” you mumbled. “you’re worth remembering toru…. even if it hurts me.”

he guiltily nodded and sniffed. “m’sorry… i thought you were better off forgetting.”

a part of him still does, because the small glimpses he caught of you no longer crying and just simply living after he took your memories away, was enough to bring him a tiny sense of relief just before he got banished to the attic, hopeful that you would live a long and happy life even if it was painfully without him.

but the minute he sensed you coming up to the house earlier that night with him thinking he was going absolutely insane and if it was truly you, was also enough to send all of that out the fucking window and falling back into a pit of despair and longing for you when he finally saw you again— for the first time in three years, looking just as pretty as he remembered and a little more grown up.

you slowly shook your head side to side, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck and him immediately responding, snaking them around your waist and pulling your warm beating body flush against his chest.

“do you still love me?” he murmured. “even though i’m dead?”

you slightly snorted, softly kissing his cheek.

“i’ll always love you toru. wherever you are.”

“i’ll always love you.”

he pulled back and gently smiled, eyes flickering to your soft lips as he juggled in his mind if it was okay to kiss you, every fiber of his undead being begging for it after missing and wishing it for so long, left with only recollections of your kisses to suffice through the years that he spent without you and wondering if he still had the right to— since even though you were once his, and he shamelessly still considered you his, he didn’t know if you were on the same page.

but you were.

it would be stupid not to be.

you leaned your pretty little face closer to his, timid doe eyed gaze looking at him so fondly that it brought back that same familiar feeling he felt with you those years ago, his hands coming up and settling themselves on your warm lively cheeks, holding you like fragile porcelain.

but were his dead lips still worthy of yours? even after everything he’d done?

“toru.”

he hummed.

“do you remember our first kiss?”

“uh huh.” he breathed out softly. “it was in my room.”

“i think—” your nose brushed with his. “i think we should have our second first kiss.”

he bit his bottom lip and smiled.

“you think so?”

“i do.”

he hummed again, his thumb gently grazing over your plushy lips.

“i think it should look a little more like the first time.”

he tilted his head to the side a tiny bit and a delicate gust of wind brushed through your hair, your surroundings now completely and miraculously morphed into his room with the both of you sitting on his bed— just like how you remembered it and basically had grown up in as you slowly took in your surroundings.

“how the fuck—”

he laughed a little, lifting one hand and keeping the other still on your cheek, his index finger lightly tapping the center of your forehead.

“mind manipulation pretty.” he grinned. “cool huh? i poked in your head again.”

“yeah!” you giggled. “very cool.”

“you know what else would be cool?”

“what?”

“if you gave me a little kiss.”

you tilted your head to the side and leaned in again, your breath fanning across his face and your lips so close but not quite that it was fucking excruciating.

“you want a kiss toru?”

“uh huh.”

“how bad— mmph!—”

satoru didn’t even let you finish that sentence as he stuffed his tongue in your mouth greedily, wet and messy kisses smacking through the room as he cradled your jaw, cold lips delving all over yours and him giddy over the sensation of your warm mouth in comparison to his, your hands clutching his blazer and making out so sensually as you made up for the time that was stolen from you.

and the only thing the two of you felt in each others arms then was serenity— one pumping, working heart and the other stiff, unmoving and cold, still equally beating for one another even through the restrictions of death, for satoru’s heart continued to move and love you regardless of how lifeless it may have appeared.

he suddenly pulled away, breathless.

“sweets?”

“yeah?”

“where in the actual fuck did you meet rin?”

you laughed, pulling back a bit to look at him with a regretful look. “knowing what i know now, i’m sick to my stomach toru.”

“did you meet him after i died?”

you nodded. “he was in one of my literature classes… and since back then i only remembered living my life— alone, i guess he was the first person that didn’t make me feel that way. at the start.”

“lame.” he mumbled. “you cheated on me sweets.”

“no!” you laughed again, giving him a little pout. “he was awful. horrendous. and i only stayed because i didn’t wanna be alone again… even though i shouldn’t have.”

you leaned and gave him a soft tiny lingering peck.

“did you love him?” he murmured against your lips, and you shook your head.

“remembering you again made me realize what being in love with someone was supposed to feel like.” you reached and brushed through the front stands of his white hair mindlessly. “and it was no where near what i felt for rin. i didn’t feel anything for him actually.”

he pursed his lips to the side, eyes squinting in thought and distaste.

“hmmm…”

you giggled. “what toru?”

he hated that you got associated with a guy like that, and hated even more that rin was kissing and hugging and touching you whenever the fuck he wanted when you were his first.

“i’m gonna haunt him for the rest of his life.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and nudged him. “honestly? do it. he sucks.”

“and you know what else sweets?”

you quirked a little brow. “what?”

“i’m gonna make you forget!”

“toru!” you giggled. “no more taking memor—“

satoru leaned his face closer to yours and you froze up, wide eyed as a little mischevious glint in his vibrant blue gaze made you fidget.

he slowly grinned and tilted his head, lips coming closer to the side of your ear and tantalizingly hovering, arms snaking around your torso and pulling you up against him.

“did you let him touch you pretty?”

“t—touch?—”

“mhm.” he gripped you a little tighter. “did you?”

“um.” you squirmed a bit, your body turning hot in the matter of seconds. “what— what do you mean—”

“did you let him fuck you.”

your breath hitched and your cheeks went pink, hands timidly resting flat on his chest and feeling a little… guilty.

“maybe—” you paused, shaky breaths blowing through your nose. “maybe once—”

satoru shot up to stand and hauled you with him, a squeal slipping past your lips as he hiked you up and brought your legs around his waist, walking across the room in quick strides and plopping you down roughly on his desk, kicking away his chair and it slamming against the wall as it rolled back.

“toru?—”

“why can’t i make you forget… hm?” he grazed his lips from your jaw and up the side of your cheek, feather like as he squeezed and kneaded at your thighs, your heart fucking hammering against your chest.

“why would you wanna remember being with someone else other than me baby…”

“i— i don’t but you erased my memories—”

he pulled back and tutted, head shaking and fingers drumming against your thighs. “doesn’t matter! should’ve avoided them like the plague silly.”

you giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him gently in.

“i would’ve if i remembered.”

“remember this remember that—” he smiled brightly and brought his face close to yours once more.

“y’know what?” he cutely pecked your lips. “i’m gonna help you remember something!”

your brows pinched momentarily in curiosity. “what?”

“that i’m the only man that ever gets to fuck you.”

satoru smashed his lips against yours and pulled you in tight, the bulge in his dress pants abundantly obvious as he grinded and rutted his aching cock on your clothed pussy, you gasping in his mouth at the feeling as you tried to keep up with his feverish fast kisses.

he slipped his icy hands underneath your top and you jumped at the change in temperature, satoru ravishing you up and obsessed with the heat your body produced and radiated, leaving him toasty for once and bringing a faux sense of life to him.

“did you forget that too?” he murmured against your lips, hands ever so slowly creeping up and sliding under your bra to grope your plump tits. “how i feel?”

“nuh uh.” you breathed out. “i didn’t—”

“tell me what you remember then sweets…”

he slid his hands back down and hiked your skirt up, you lifting your hips a little to help him bring it up as high as he possibly could, your pretty little panties tight and suffocating your pussy as his fingers came down to play with your swollen needy clit.

“i remember—” your mouth hung open, words lodging in your throat.

“hm?” he shoved his hand in your panties and your eyes fluttered closed, him placing open wet mouthed kisses all over your neck and chest, your mind unable to grasp the amount of pleasure he was getting out with simply just his fingers, pleasure you missed so fucking badly as he slipped his digits up and down your folds.

“your dick—” satoru pushed two fingers inside of you and you whined. “i remember the way you felt.”

“yeah?” he pulled back from your chest and grinned, fingers squelching as they pumped in and out. “and how did i feel?”

“big.” you choked out, legs spreading wider as you gripped the edge of his desk, his frenzied lust filled eyes drinking in the way you unraveled and crumbled before him.

something he was positive rin didn’t even come fucking close to.

“aww.” he cooed, digits speeding up as you squealed and tried to close your legs, him prying them open again. “bet you missed the way i filled you full huh? stretched you out so good?”

you rapidly nodded, eyebrows contorted in ecstasy as your thighs shook.

“anything else you missed baby?”

arousal trickled down your folds at this point, making an absolute mess out of his fingers.

“your hands— heave— on my neck when you’d fuck me—”

a shiver ran down his spine at your words, his cock so fucking hard and aching as it begged him to let it spring free and bury itself in your hole.

“my god…” he whispered. “i bet your slutty little self wants me to fuck you right now right? stuff you up and make you cum on my dick like i used to?”

with each word your hole was clenching and screaming for his cock, your hands quickly shooting out to pull and unbuckle at his belt, him laughing as he continued to finger your pussy while loosening up the collar of his tie.

“you’re so needy.”

you pouted, embarrassed as you pulled your hands away and brattily tugged at his wrist to take his fingers out.

“i take it back—”

“no!” he quickly yanked his belt off and flung it, his fingers unzipping his pants and taking out his solid dick. “hell no please i need to be inside you—“

he lined his cock up and without warning pushed, your hands flying to grip his shoulders for support and crying out at the mere size of him, his dick icy in between your gummy walls that somehow added a whole new wave of pleasure for you.

“hard toru.” you whined. “please i can’t— i—”

“i know baby i know.” he gripped your hips and snapped his hips up, your moans fueling him as he plunged in your hole and took no time in fucking you in just the way he knew you liked it, proud of the fact that your pussy still took every single inch of him like he’d trained you— almost like she recognized whose dick was actually for you and not some other fucking morons.

“you’re not screwing anybody else anymore, you hear me sweets?” he tapped your cheek to get you to look at him, you completely dazed and fucked out as you tried to hold eye contact with him amidst his drilling cock. “should’ve only been me… living or dead i don’t care.”

you nodded dumbly, you leaning and kissing him sloppily and desperately that you muffled his next words, refusing to detach from his mouth.

“did you— mmph— let him cum inside?”

you didn’t answer, not because you were afraid to, but because his dick was silencing you as you hiccuped and spasmed with every slam of his hips, satoru a horny goner and pinning everything all on you even when it was literally his fault he erased your memories in the first place, fuming over the thought of you tainted by another man that he wanted to perform a full fucking cleanse.

he rammed inside of you faster against the desk as you separated from his lips and clamped a hand over your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“don’t tell me you let him cum inside you little slut—”

“i didn’t!” you heaved. “i didn’t i didn’t—”

“good baby!” he cheered, a complete contrast to his menacing tone from seconds before. “so you do love me.”

“i do! i love you i love you i love yo—”

his unbeating heart soared.

“you love me?”

“uh— hic!— uh huh—“

“even when i’m dead?”

you nodded vigorously, feeling your orgasm starting to bubble up in your tummy as you choked and squirmed.

“perfect my sweet little thing…” he cooed once more, him literally lightheaded over the way you clenched around his cock. “make a mess all over me baby i’ve been dreaming of your cute cunt for three fucking years—”

you wrapped your arms around him by the neck again and moaned, burying your face in his neck as he placed two palms on your bent knees and spread your plushy thighs further apart, jack hammering you and so mean about it as you shook violently against him and came, heaves and sobs of pleasure racking through your body as he threw his head back and groaned.

“you want me to cum inside you?” he asked. “fill you up just like i used to?”

“yes! please please—”

“oh fucking well.”

he pulled out of you and your eyes bulged open, his dick shiny and covered in your juices as he grabbed your upper arm and yanked you down on your knees.

“you’re gonna suck me off and swallow what i give you for letting rin’s filthy hands on you.”

satoru tapped his dick against your cheek to get you to open up, you listening and opening your mouth as he shoved his cock inside and placed a hand on the back of your head, fucking your mouth as you choked and gagged on his length and loving every second of it.

“goooddd baby.” he whispered, your slobbering so nasty as he watched drool dribble down your chin. “so good…”

you gulped him down and lathered your tongue around while he used you, his balls swollen and twitching and him needing to dump his cum in your mouth for you to swallow.

“remember when we used to do this every night?” he smiled wickedly. “when i’d make you swallow me up?”

you hummed around him and tried to nod, eager for his release and wanting to show him that you in fact did remember— wanting it just as bad as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him harder.

“h— oh my god—” he fisted your hair and shivered, letting you take over and milk him for all his worth. “i’m gonna— jesus baby slow— slow down slow down— hah!”

satoru’s release shot to the back of your throat and you choked, blinking back tears as you gradually slowed your pace and continued to deliciously suck him through his orgasm and gulp down his cum, him with a death grip on the edge of his desk as he heaved and swallowed, hips jittery and twitching away from you— tip now overly sensitive.

you licked up the last of his cum and stood back up, shimming your skirt back down and satoru shakily stuffing his softened dick back in his pants and zipping it, eyes softening once you reached up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his over your waist and squeezing you gently.

“so you’re telling me.” you began. “that you haven’t had sex in three years and you fucked me like that?”

he snickered and smoothed a hand over your back. “it’s my instinct sweets! and also because i’m sure rin did a horrendous freaking job—”

you laughed and rolled your eyes, kissing his cheek before looking at him fully.

“i’m serious you know.”

he raised a brow. “about what?”

“about marrying you. even more so now.”

and just when he was about to pick you up and spin you around and jump up and down, he stilled— face sickishly paling more than it already was.

because satoru was keeping something else from you… a condition between the living and the dead and one he overlooked entirely because he was selfishly desperate for you and just wanted you with him again, like the way he had you when he was alive.

“what toru?”

“huh?” his eyes snapped to yours, and he quickly shook his head. “oh nothing nothing!”

his mind was frantically pushing it to the back, ignoring it and wanting to go through with the one thing he’d practically been dreaming of his entire living and dead life— marriage with you.

this was fine. this was okay.

right?

“white or black.”

you tilted your head. “what?”

“you’ll see… but choose!” he grinned. “white or black?”

a slow giddy smile grew on your face.

“black.”

satoru waved his hand and you stilled, the clothes on your skin changing and morphing into something completely anew, your eyes landing on his black and white button up suit now and head quickly dropping down to yourself— gasping once it registered in your flabbergasted brain.

you were wearing a black wedding gown, beautiful and classy as you picked up and felt the soft silk material between your fingertips, your tule sheer veil intricate as you looked behind you then— it long and stretching for what seemed like miles across the floor with gorgeous embroidery at the base of it.

it was heavenly.

your gaze snapped back to his, and he smiled fondly, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers.

“three times.” he murmured, and you picked up on what he was referring to, tightening your grip on his hand and nodding.

“beetlejuice beetlejuice beetlejuice.”

and the room spun around you, so astronomically fast that you almost doubled over in stifling nausea as the wind whipped through your hair and veil, expecting to land in the attic and finally outside that damn model when in reality, you were in a church cathedral as soon as your surroundings had stopped spinning… and one that looked exactly like the one in winter river.

“are we…” you looked around. “are we still in the model?”

he shook his head. “nope! i was focusing my mind here when you were saying my name… we’re in winter river baby.”

you smiled, the atmosphere around you soft and serene as the dimly lit candles around you quietly flickered, a random lilac colored hue across the cathedral and one you assumed was placed by satoru himself as he took your hands in his, almost in a haste too, but choosing to brush the observation aside.

this was wrong… and satoru knew it.

but he pushed it to the back of his head again.

“we are gathered here today—”

“shit!”

you jumped and whipped your head to the side, breathing out and shoulders relaxing once you saw it was just your church’s pastor that you’d known since birth— a strange far off look in his eye that you deemed to be something that satoru did, for there was no way he was up at the crack of fucking dawn right now to do a wedding.

“sorry!” you laughed. “is he… is he okay?”

“oh yeah he’s fine! he’s actually still sleeping.” he let go of one of your hands and patted the pastors head. “i’m manipulating his head for a little bit. just until you’re my wife.”

his wife.

you nodded, cheeks so warm as you tried to refrain from jumping over how excited you were at the thought of finally fulfilling the vows you had placed on each other when you were young— them now nurturing into something real.

“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the love of satoru gojo and y/n y/m in holy matrimony.”

he shouldn’t do this to you.

“today, they declare their intention to build a life together, sharing their joys and their challenges, and supporting one another in pursuit of their dreams.”

he can’t— he can’t build a life with you… can he?

he pushed his worries back again and gripped your hands tighter.

“do you, satoru gojo, take y/n y/m to be your lawfully wedded wife? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect her, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

this is wrong.

but he swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“i do.”

“and do you, y/n y/m, take satoru gojo to be your lawfully wedded husband? do you promise to love, honor, cherish and protect him, through sickness and in health for as long as you both shall live?”

for as long as you both shall live.

satoru can’t live.

“i d—”

“stop.”

you froze.

“what?” you asked worriedly. “what’s wrong?”

“i’m no better than the man i was when i first died.”

the look in his eyes was… odd, and it only further confused you.

“i don’t—”

“i can’t let you marry me baby.”

your heart dropped.

“what?”

“i told you that if you married me it would break my contract and i would be a free man and that’s true…” he began. “but there’s something else that i didn’t tell you... i— i kept it from you.”

oh fuck.

“what are you talking about toru.” your voice was low and heedful, almost like a warning to him, and he wanted to slam his head against the wall for being so fucking reckless again.

“if you—” he breathed in and shook his head, letting go of your hands and letting his fall tight at his sides, balling up. “if you marry me, you’re freeing me…”

he gnawed at his lip.

“but i’m killing you.”

your blood ran cold and drained from your face, words entirely at a loss and useless as your brain tried to process what the fuck he just told you.

kill you?

“marrying me is like exchanging your soul with the dead.” satoru slowly shook his head. “you’ll die sweets… i can’t— i can’t do that to you.”

satoru was desperate to for you, so much so that he was willing to hide such a detrimental part of the marriage clause until the time came, choosing to play freaking stupid and tune it out in the hopes that in the end, he would be brave enough to go through with it just to keep you and not ever have to say goodbye again.

but it was wrong. so incredibly immoral and wrong and he felt like a monster for even trying to do it, for letting it go as far as it did and have you standing there in front of him in your pretty gown and veil— just like how he’d imagined it when his blood was pumping and his heart was beating, and just like how he’d imagined it even now, shriveled up dead veins and all.

this is what fate had chosen for the two of you.

and though it took forever for satoru to accept it… you and him were simply not meant to be.

for you were meant to live, and satoru was meant to die.

“you disgraceful bafoon! you insolent crook!”

the big doors of the cathedral kicked open and juno walked through, adam and barbara maitland running behind her and trying to pull her back, the both of them spouting reasonings and explanations.

“this is her choice juno!—”

“she wants to let her do it!—”

“the kid’s just in love!—”

“button it or i’m sending you back to the house!” juno grumbled at them, turning back around and pointing menacingly at satoru once she reached you both, her brittle old lady perfume wafting in your nostrils.

“juno!” satoru greeted with faux cheerfulness, eyes wide and alarmed. “good to see you hah! you look livelier than the last time i saw y—”

“what the hell do you think you’re doing boy?” she spat, eyes switching to you next. “and you! young lady— this man is a spirit!”

“i—i know—”

“juno they know each other.” barbara spoke up gently. “they grew up together when he was alive.”

“yes they were in a relationship this isn’t him trying to trick her into anything—”

“no but it is.” satoru exhaustedly whined, cutting adam off as he ran his hands through his snowy hair. “she didn’t know about the clause… i just told her now.”

silence.

“you didn’t tell her about the clause?!—”

“are you out of your mind you cockroach?!—”

“you’re doing what you did before!—”

“i know!” satoru exclaimed over the yells of scolding and belittlement. “i know i know that’s why i told her just now… i’m not letting her do it i— i couldn’t.”

he turned to you.

“baby i want you. i need you and that’s why i didn’t say anything like a fucking dingbat because i’m tired of living forever without you... it sucks.”

you felt tears prickle at your eyes.

“but this isn’t fair to you at all. you deserve to live man… i can’t— i won’t drag you down with me.”

“toru—”

“the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” juno interjected, her gaze looking at satoru sincerely for once that it was a strange sight for him.

she placed a hand on her chest. “i’m sorry that your love was separated by death, truly. i sympathize with you. i can’t think of anything more cruel.”

you both solemnly nodded.

“but the living and the dead were never meant to coexist.” she repeated. “so even though you two move on from this and go back to being what you are, satoru will stay like this and you will not. you will grow.”

juno addressed you directly and you listened with a heavy heart— the use of satoru’s actual given name now from her instead of ‘beetlejuice’ adding a layer of somber seriousness.

“and let’s just say this clause didn’t exist and you get to marry her and she stays alive… satoru will still stay and you will grow. do you both understand what i’m trying to say?”

you quickly wiped the corner of your eyes, satoru peeking over at you sadly.

“i won’t tell you what i think the right choice is young lady.” she continued. “the dead aren’t even supposed to associate with the living like this… but weigh the consequences of either path and see which one you want to walk in.”

she stepped a bit closer, holding eye contact with you.

“but let me make one thing clear— the power of the living is greater than the dead. if you choose to marry him, you will break his contract forever and free him of his violations. but if you do, you will die and be one of us.”

either path is difficult.

to sacrifice his freedom, or to sacrifice your life?

but you knew that a life without satoru was nothing and bleak…. you had lived it for three years.

were you willing to return to that? just to keep your heart beating? and say goodbye to satoru for good?

you didn’t want to live in a world that didn’t have him in it. you didn’t want to live in a world where you remembered satoru for longer than you’d known him, and the thought only made you absolutely sick to your stomach as you envisioned the rest of your life without the person who knew you best.

it was almost easy… you didn’t have to weigh the consequences at all.

your path was satoru.

“we’re getting married.”

“what?!” satoru frantically shook his head. “no sweets no we’re not.”

“yes we are.” you pushed. “this isn’t for you to decide it’s my choice and i choose you—”

“and i’m not letting you.” he countered. “you’re choosing wrong so unbelievably wrong—”

“but i’m not though!” you argued. “literally explain to me right now how me stuck in a world that doesn’t have you in it is better than—”

“y/n you need to live.” he cut you off. “i died, not you it’s not supposed to be you alright? i can’t let you do this.”

tears slipped from your eyes and you wiped them right away.

“do you not— sniff— do you not want me do you want me to go away what—”

“no…” he stepped forward and cupped your cheeks. “that’s the last thing i want and you know that…”

“then why won’t you marry me?” you hiccuped. “why won’t you let me stay with you?”

“baby— life is so unbelievably precious.” he moved strands of your hair away from your face. “do you have any idea what i would give to have it again? to feel my body actually working for a change instead of it just being nothing?”

you continued to cry, your hands clutching his wrists.

“i don’t want you to take that away from yourself because of me… i want you breathing. i want your little heart pumping and your cheeks warm, i want you to move on.”

“i— hic!— i don’t want to move on from you—”

“you have to sweets.” he quickly wiped his eyes before cupping your cheeks again. “we’re not meant to be baby and i hate so much that we aren’t… and i’m sorry.”

“toru stop it—”

“please live for me okay? for the both of us. and don’t forget me either please don’t forget me—”

“why are you—” you harshly wiped your eyes. “why are you talking like that what are you doing—”

“i don’t think i should be around you anymore baby.”

“huh?!” your eyes narrowed. “are you serious?”

“satoru—”

juno raised a hand, stopping barbara from interjecting.

“it won’t be good for either of us if i stick around...” he sniffled. “i need to stay away from you because if i don’t, i might try to trick you again into giving up your soul and i can’t have that.”

“my soul?” you spat. “take it i don’t want it without you i told you already—”

“please try to understand.” he placed a soft kiss to your forehead. “please.”

“no—”

“i’ll see you soon okay?” satoru let go of your face. “graduate please. have kids and get married and stuff… travel.”

you were supposed to do all of that with him.

“satoru no listen to me!—”

“i love you.”

“stop!—”

satoru’s grief was monumental, but his love for you was greater, choosing to let you go for the sake of your life.

he looked to juno and she sighed through her nose, somehow knowing exactly what he was silently asking for, stepping forward and lifting a hand.

“satoru please i wanna stay with you!—”

juno sharply moved her hand to the side and you were pulled to a blinding white abyss, dream like and fuzzy as you felt all muscles in your body relax, your mind completely blank and free of the heartbreak and loss and sorrow for a little, floating through a cloud of soft serenity as it brought you in and tried to clear the pain in your heart.

you weren’t aware of where you were or what juno had done, but your thoughts were distant and muffled as you let it engulf you entirely in its welcoming arms, you sleepy and drowsy until the blinding white abyss slowly shrunk down to a pure black, quiet void, the nerves in your body twitching little by little until you were finally consciously aware of your limbs and mind, but you too tired still to open your eyes.

you cruelly dreamed of satoru still. of him alive.

and you weren’t sure how long you had been in this weird pit of tranquility, or how long you were asleep for until you were jerked awake and ripped from it entirely.

“hey— y/n?”

you shot awake, sitting up and whipping your head around.

you were back in your dorm.

“are you okay? why are you sleeping on the floor?”

you looked up, your roommate standing there with a weirded out expression.

“and what are you wearing?”

your gaze shifted downward, and the minute you saw your black wedding dress and veil folded neatly next to you, memories of what had happened hours prior came achingly flooding in as you scrambled to stand up on your feet, scaring your roommate and leaving her to grumble in her head about how she wished the system didn’t put her to room with the campus ghost girl.

“sorry! i have to go thank you though for waking me u—”

your voice trailed off down the hall, you running through and ignoring the weirded out looks from other students as you sprinted out of the building and down the street, engulfing the skirt of your gown up in your arms so you wouldn’t accidentally trip over it and eat shit on the ground, the goal of getting back to the maitland’s house the only thing on your mind as you ran.

your lungs burned by the time you got to the bottom of the hill, and you thanked anyone that was willing to listen for allowing winter river to exist as the smallest town you had ever known, sparing you from running a full fledged marathon just to get to the house as you heaved and tried to catch your breath, a little sweaty and hot as you began the hike up the hill.

you hoped he was there.. in the attic.

you hoped to god that he was.

reaching the top, you continued to trudge across the dirt driveway and up the porch steps, your foot lifting and just about to make contact with the old wooden platform until an invisible force grabbed your ankle and pulled you back, literally dragging you away from the house and down the hill over the grass as you screamed and thrashed for it to let you go.

satoru.

and you tried again, hiking up the hill with your bundled up wedding skirt in your arms, reaching the top faster than last time and choosing to run up the porch steps instead to see if you could outrun his ghostly abilities.

except you couldn’t, because the invisible force caught you by the ankle again just as your fingers grazed the doorknob, yanking you away and down the hill until it left you screaming and huffing in frustration at the bottom.

you continued to do that for the rest of the fucking day, and everyday for that matter, for an entire week straight.

walking up the hill, reaching the top, getting reeled back, running up the hill and getting sent back down again, sprinting for it only to get dragged away once more as the repeated cycle you had set for yourself happened over and over, until by your last attempt you couldn’t even walk up the hill anymore, satoru having put a huge invisible wall around the house that was impossible to get through.

you were angry. angry and bitter that he was doing this.

was it so bad to just want to spend the rest of your undying life with him? is that not what he wanted this entire time? why was he so adamant on damning you to live a life of suffering and— and loneliness? a life without him?

you didn’t know what to do. your psychic abilities were only for sensing the dead and being able to see them— nothing to do with calling forth spirits or summoning them at any given place and time, so there was no way for you to call satoru no matter how much you wanted to or tried.

and you cried. you cried and you sobbed just like how you did when he first died, except somehow worse knowing that there was a chance to be together with him forever and him not wanting it… not wanting you.

but you waited anyways, hoping that he would come around and change his mind, that he would bring down that stupid invisible wall and let you inside the house and back to him, counting down the days and hours and minutes until it became clearer to you that satoru wasn’t going to change his mind.

and by the third week, you had almost entirely given up.

you felt nothing. absolutely nothing as you slugged through your classes or your day to day errands, not giving a shit about anything that you had to do in this world for you had always loved the other world more— the world of spirits and the netherworld and the great beyond, the world that had satoru in it, as you appreciated and admired that one more ever since you were a kid with your parents… more than the one you were currently in— as this one was filled with ignorance and criticism.

you felt helpless… and maybe satoru was right.

if he was willing to give up an opportunity to keep you forever, then maybe that’s just the way it goes… maybe you should just accept it, and you choosing to think of the latter instead of begging and kneeling at nothing for satoru to come back and get you and marry you— was helping the bitterness in your heart grow and get you by, it at least stopping you from crying in the middle of your lectures or the grocery store and weirding people out anyways.

maybe you should accept the fact that you and him were not meant to be.

after an entire month, you had given up.

and satoru’s grave was the closest you knew you’d get to him, permanently divided by dirt and soil and grass… six feet under and totally out of your reach, his tombstone engraved and pretty and one you couldn’t believe you had forgotten about as it sat here alone for years right under your nose— you visiting it now for the millionth time as you placed your book bag down and sat criss crossed on the grass, mindlessly tugging and breaking off pieces of it as you sat there.

you sighed deeply and hugged your knees up to your chest, the day surprisingly a sunny one as chirping birds flittered past you through the wind, tiny little white butterflies occasionally stopping by to sit on your arm or satoru’s tombstone as you sat there in thought… not really sure what to think, but comforted by the fact that the engravings on his stone reminded you that he was once very much alive and real.

there was an odd wavering in your heart, and you had a feeling that this was going to be the last time you were visiting his grave, for you figured it was time to finally do what he wanted you to do— move on and forget him.

“don’t move on.”

you stiffened.

that voice… was your mind hallucinating now? jesus chri—

“don’t move on from me please… and— and don’t forget me. i take it all back.”

you heard footsteps draw nearer across the grass and you turned your head, eyes widening and unbelieving as you saw satoru standing there with a pleading anxious expression, him still dressed in his black and white suit that he had on for the wedding.

was it actually him?

“how are you…” you trailed off, your mind having difficulty processing how he was there. “how are you outside the house? i thought the contract—”

“juno gave me a hall pass…” he explained softly. “it expires at the end of the day.”

you hummed, itching to jump up and wrap your arms around him and cling to him, but stopping yourself from doing so as you still didn’t know why he was here, and you were quite frankly still bitter and hurt from him sending you away.

you slightly turned your body. “why are you here?”

“because i can’t stay away from you.”

your heart skipped a beat as he crouched down to your level, your eyes greedily running across every feature of his face and committing it to memory, as you now had him directly in front of you again instead of having to rely on recollections of him to try and mend your aching heart.

and satoru was doing the same.

“i started to sense you distancing from me and… and i had this feeling that you were starting to listen and move on and forget me and it made me fucking ill. which is crazy because i’m dead… but i was literally ill sweets.”

you let a tiny soft smile play at your lips.

“i can’t take it.” he spoke again, shaking his head. “i can’t take the thought of you forgetting me. not now, not ever, and i don’t know why i was stupid enough to try and convince myself that i could watch you do something like that even if its the right thing.”

“you sent me away.”

“i did baby…” he reached over and gently caressed your cheek. “and i regret that so fucking much. i’m sorry.”

“toru i need you to understand that you can’t make choices like that for me.”

“i know.” he mumbled and dropped his hand, eyes casting down. “i’m stupid.”

“but i also need you to understand, that i have no interest in living in a world that doesn’t have you in it… it’s not worth it now that you’re gone.”

you tilted your head to try and catch his gaze, continuing once his blue eyes flickered back to yours.

“i would die for you, and i would die without you. i look for you in everything that i do and you expecting me to just forget you is cruel.”

“no i don’t want you to forget me anym—”

“what’s life to you?” you asked him suddenly. “what does it feel to you? and mean?”

he stared at you with pinched brows, his face endearing but sad all at the same time.

“warm.” he murmured. “beautiful and… pure. it’s peaceful and it means you.”

your heart fluttered and you smiled, and satoru fell in love with you all over again— something you conquered when he was alive, and something you conquered again in death.

“that’s what life is toru.” you cupped his cheek. “to me it’s not— this.”

you gestured around you. “it’s not my body or my heart, it’s not the sun and it’s not breathing. it’s you. i feel life through you and i always have… because life doesn’t literally mean where i am now and neither does it mean the netherworld baby… it means you and me.”

satoru didn’t even realize he was crying until you wiped his cheeks, your words serving an entirely new perspective to him about the living and the dead and he felt peace.

because yes satoru was dead… but he was still living. living because he had you as the embodiment of it, and living because his soul still permitted him to see you again and be with you, to look at you with his own undead eyes and feel warmth like he did before.

but not literal warmth from your body or pumping blood or a beating heart.

but warmth from your soul. from who you are.

that’s what life was to him… and what life was to you.

satoru wrapped his arms around your shoulders and brought you to his chest, one hand on the back of your head as he cradled you and cried, finally now no longer mourning his past life like he’d been doing for the past three years, and no longer wishing for it back either or thinking that physically living in this world was the better option for you just because it meant you were breathing.

where he was, was just fine. and wherever you chose to go would be fine too.

but you chose to go with him, something that had been set since the moment you met under the magnolia tree back in middle school— living or dead, paris or italy, your choice would always and forever be him.

satoru proposed to you right then and there at his gravesite, flying to one knee as soon as you both stood back up and him manifesting the biggest diamond rock you had ever seen in your life, laughing and crying together as he slipped it over your ring finger, for your marriage meant the binding of the living and the dead, and the binding of you and him— a new beginning.

but this time your wedding wasn’t at the cathedral, but under the pretty magnolia tree where you had met, now accompanied by the maitlands as barbara cried, and juno as she herself officiated the wedding, you thinking— hoping that she grew a soft spot for satoru, and that behind her stern resting face, she was glad satoru was finally a free man and granted a second chance.

giving your soul up was nothing to you, and it didn’t hurt at all either… you feeling lighter in exchange actually… happy, with satoru standing in front of you and with a massive fucking grin on his face, shiny and bright as he practically jumped in his spot in excitement over you finally being his wife and that he got to keep you— and right this time… no lies or tricks or hidden secrets, but genuine authentic sacrifice instead, for it was the purest form of love.

because this is what fate had decided for the two of you.

it had decided that satoru gojo was meant to die… but it had also decided to bring you back to him as well— to the house of the maitlands, to the attic he was banished to, and back together again in each others cold arms where you belonged, defying the laws of the living and the dead and proving that life doesn’t end even after your hearts stopped beating.

fate had decided that you were both meant to be. that was always a fact.

and fate had decided that you and satoru gojo were meant to live, with unbeating hearts and icy cold skin, but souls still warm for each other nonetheless.

because through sickness and in health… death could not do you both apart.

you and satoru.

together for eternity.

a lovely and incredibly beautiful fanart of this fic can be found here by @courtneedsleep !! <33

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

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shy shy shy

a little insecure tasm peter parker x reader, early stages of relationship

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nerdy peter lovers rise

They were just glasses.

On, off. On, off. A clear reflection of Peter in the bathroom mirror, a few circles of color where his head and body would be.

Peter examines himself with the lenses on, pulls out a piece of his sweater that had gotten caught inside his plaid pajama pants. His hands run up through the damp hair that falls flat against his forehead in an attempt to give it a little volume but it's no use without his usual styling products. Peter slaps his palms on his cheeks, shakes his head and sends micro-drops of water sailing. He bounces in place, attempting to shake out the jitters his body has had trouble containing all day.

Peter pushes his contact lens case aside, gives himself one last glance over. He contemplates for a few seconds, biting the inside of his cheek. Peter sighs as he pulls the lenses off again, cradling them in his hands and blowing air through his lips.

Metal frames, thick lenses.

Couldn't have that spider fixed his vision while he was at it?

Okay, Peter's vision wasn't that bad. Maybe he could survive without the frames Peter felt altered his appearance so drastically (or at least, reflected more accurately the type of person Peter was in his spare time). Peter with Contacts was cool and confident - scaled back from the confidence he had while he was in his suit, but not as pathetic as he was back in high school. Peter with Glasses? Yeah, that guy looked deserving of wedgies.

He reaches for his phone to check the time (and make sure he hasn't left you alone for too long), but can't make out what the white numbers say through his cracked screen.

Okay, maybe it is pretty bad.

Peter sighs, picks up the mess he'd made pre and post shower, hyping himself up one more time before opening the door and flipping the light switch off.

Peter pads down the hallway and peers his head around the corner into the small living room. He squints and can just barely make out the top of your head sitting on his couch.

Even though he can't see you very well, Peter's heart makes a funny feeling in his chest, even through the eye strain.

It's like you can feel Peter's eyes on you (which, you probably can - Peter is working overtime to try and make out the details of you) because you sit a little straighter and turn your head. Peter pushes his glasses on just in time to see you smile. And then grin.

"You wear glasses?"

Your voice is curious, not at all condescending, though Peter can hear the smile in your voice as you come up to meet him.

"For the aesthetics," Peter grins, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms in an attempt to make you believe the false sense of confidence he's putting up. It's stupid, really, but a tiny piece of Peter thinks someone as consistently perfect as you should be with someone who is equally on par. And, at the moment, Peter feels like he's letting you down.

You stand close to Peter, too close (his heart can't stop fluttering and his breath has caught in his throat). Peter fights the urge to pull you close to him. Too much, too soon, though he'd really like to kiss you right about now.

You try to contain your smile, a part of you still not quite believing that you've been so consistently guilty of making Peter Parker flustered.

Your fingers gently pull Peter's glasses off with a glint in your eye and Peter frowns at the sudden loss of sight - only because he doesn't want to miss looking at you from so close.

"For the aesthetics, huh?" You grin, turning the glasses to measure the thickness of Peter's lenses. Your suspicions about the strength of his prescription are confirmed by the way Peter's eyes are squeezed together as he looks at you.

"A hundred percent," Peter persists, opening his eyes normally and looking straight at the blurred lines of your face.

You take a step back and flash your phone at Peter, tiny words melted into a block of black. Peter instinctively squints and leans forward, trying to distinguish what the small screen said.

"You're like a grandma," you laugh, fully now.

"You should feel horrible for making fun of the elderly." Peter's arms drop, reaching for his glasses with an easy smile. But you move your hands away and Peter's hands catch on the crooks of your arms as you carefully place Peter's glasses back on his face, taking care to place them behind his ears as comfortably as you can. Your fingers graze against Peter's hair, still damp from his shower, gently moving a few stray pieces back into place.

"Well, you can't go to sleep like that," you murmur. "You'll get sick."

"So I guess we have time to kill?" Peter asks, hoping the two of you will sit down for a movie - or anything that'd keep him close to you, really.

"I guess we do," you grin, hands falling to Peter's shoulders, savoring the feeling of his hands on you, unable to help the craving you have for more.

"Pete?"

"Hmm?" Peter is partially entranced, melted like chocolate with the sweet sound of that little nickname coming out of your mouth. His eyes flicker and he's trying not to stare at your lips, bottom lip caught in his mouth in anticipation.

"Could I put my stuff in your room?" You ask sweetly, trying not to laugh at the way Peter falters, blinking quickly.

"Oh, yeah, sure," Peter nods frantically, hoping he's not as red as he feels.

You bite back your grin as Peter stays there, not moving until you do, sweet brown eyes slightly magnified by his glasses. Oh, but it'd be so cruel to deny him.

You press a quick kiss to the corner of Peter's mouth. It's a little shy and you turn away immediately to grab the overnight bag you'd packed. Two pairs of cheeks are red and grateful for the excuse of it, trying to shake off the little bit of nervousness the two of you still have around each other. It's a little strange, neither of you quite used to having someone around to love so freely. It's new, too, both of you still a little afraid to do something that would scare the other off, each of you knowing you'd never be the one to run off.

But this tiny fear that lives in both of your brains is what had Peter picking over his appearance earlier and is what makes him nervous now as he leads you down the hall to his room. He'd cleaned it thoroughly, considering hiding all his trinkets and trophies, ended up shoving things that had littered his shelves into his closet.

Peter takes a breath before opening his creaky door, smiling as he welcomes you in, hoping you somehow wouldn't notice - or maybe, wouldn't care to ask about - any of the posters or books or medals or figurines that made Peter, Peter. He was partially embarrassed and entirely nervous about sharing more of himself with you. After all, Peter was an expert at shutting people out and not too great at letting them in.

He doesn't know if he's relieved or even more anxious as you stare in awe, bag abandoned near his bed. It's clear you're taking in every detail of Peter's room, eyes not missing a single decoration. Peter feels as if he's being dissected, fidgeting as he waits for you to finish your analyzing. He's about to suggest that movie when you walk over to the desk he has shoved against the wall. Peter doesn't think there's anything special about books and pencils, but you're touching the tops of the things on his desk with care and a fascination he doesn't quite understand.

You quietly move onto old trophies and medals Peter has displayed, only the ones he was proudest of.

"Princeton Math Competition? Wow, Pete." You only turn your attention to him momentarily, returning your eyes to the shelf with a grin.

Peter's heart flutters when you sound... impressed? It was an accomplishment he was proud of, but not something he went around telling strangers.

"Oh, that... that- that's old," Peter laughs, coming up behind you, sure now there'd be no chance of getting you to watch that movie.

"Tell me about it."

"W...what?" Peter laughs, glancing at you curiously.

"I wanna hear about it," you say genuinely, taking a seat on the edge of Peter's bed. "Tell me about it."

Peter doesn't have to tell you he's shocked for you to realize it, a small smile tugging at your lips as you look up at him. Peter's not sure he has the courage to ask why before you beat him, sensing his hesitancy.

"I wanna know everything about you Peter. I wanna hear about your math competitions. I want you to tell me what books you're reading. I wanna know what matters most to you," you shrug, face a little warm from the confession. You don't have too much time to be embarrassed before Peter is next to you, hands digging into the bed at your sides. His face is inches away, his breath warm on your lips.

"Please let me kiss you," Peter whispers.

"Please do," you whisper back, letting Peter take your face in his hands and pull you into a kiss. The surface you've chosen is a little unstable as the both of you shift around, neither of you quite able to let the other go until you're forced to, breathless and grinning.

Peter's glasses have fogged up and he groans, pulling them off exasperatedly. "God, I hate these things."

"Really? But you look so good in them," you comment innocently, picking up the frames and attempting to look through them, muttering something about how, wow, Peter is blind.

Peter's not paying attention, though, heart hammering in his chest. He takes you by surprises when he kisses you this time, glasses still in your hands as they rest against his chest.

"You're trouble," Peter says when he finally pulls away. "You're doing awful things to my heart."

"Should I make fun of you, then?" You tease.

"Oh, I think that'd make it worse."

"I didn't know you were into that."

Peter shoves you as you laugh, though he can't help but join you.

"I didn't know you were into nerds," Peter quips, letting you slide his glasses back onto his face - the ones that suddenly don't seem that bad anymore.

"Only the really pretty ones," you murmur, and really, how could Peter not kiss you for that one?

Peter tries to take his glasses off as your kissing grows heated, knowing they'll be useless when they eventually fog up anyway. But your hand stops Peter, lips puffy from plenty of kisses and still eager for more.

"Nuh-uh," you say, pulling Peter's hand back down. "Keep them on."

Help Palestinians

Quick explanation: (the go fund me are at the end, scroll down to help)

As it's quite a long conflict, I won't be developing each year but the main idea is there.

Palestine was a territory under British mandat from 1923 to 1948. The large amount of Jews living in Palestine can be explained by the massive deportation of them all over Europe by the Nazis. Palestine can be considered the root of the three big religions (Christianity, Islam, Judaism) since Jesus was born there.

As those religions have their own religious state (Arabi Saudia, Vatican) where they can pray and believe all they want, some Jewish deportation (Shoah) survivors then decided it was necessary for them to have their own Jewish state to protect themselves of antisemitism, following the idea of Theodor Herzl, foundator of zionism.

Palestinians population then got divided following numerous conflits. UN decided of a shared territory which was in favour of Zionist in 1947. One year later, the state of Israel is created causing the Nakba in 1948.

Since then, the Palestinian Territory is in a constant war.

Today, palestinians are still being bombed by Israelis terrorists. The latter always use the poor excuse of attacking Hamas and saving their hostage from them when we know for sure that they do not care about their own hostage and used Hamas as an excuse to kill civilians. (Read here).

Israel is using the 7 October attack as their 9/11 to attack anyone under the pretext of self defense.

Many families are in absolute need of money to escape and survive Gaza. As I receive a lot of messages from different families, I'll post them all here so It's in the same post as the explanation.

And fuck Zionism. Zionism is not Judaism, Zionism is terrorism.

Provide humanitarian aid!

Help Salman!

Help Asala!

Help Ahmed!

Help Huda!

Help Eyad!

Help Faisal!

Help Mosab!

Hello my friends.. I want to help our people in Gaza through your small donations as they make a big difference in their lives... You are our only hope.. We want to provide clean water and food. My brother Mohammed has a water truck and donates every week to people, but he still needs money to fill it and distribute water and blankets by the time winter comes.. I thank you for your support and generosity towards us.. 🇵🇸❤️🌸

gofundme.com

Donate to Help and donate to our people in Gaza for food, drink and he, organized by Faisal Osman

Peace be upon you, my dears. My name is Faisal. I want to hel… Faisal Osman needs your support for Help and donate to our people in Gaza for

My friends 🇵🇸🚨

I came to you asking for help after a year of devastating war 💔

I came to you with all my hope in you ❤️🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

My family's situation is difficult and ten days ago I only received 73CAD😭💔🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

This is not enough to buy more than a few basic daily needs due to the high prices 💔💔🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

All my hope is that you stand by me, whether by donating or participating 🙏🙏🙏🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

https://gofund.me/bbe291a5

Urgent Appeal for Gaza: Your Help Can Make a Difference

Dear Friends,

I hope this message finds you well.

saving lives changing lives

The situation in Gaza is truly heartbreaking. Over 1.5 million Palestinians have been displaced from their homes, leaving behind everything they once had. My name is Osama, and I am a displaced Palestinian working alongside a dedicated team called "A Sign of Hope." Together, we are on the ground, distributing critical aid to those who have lost everything, but the need is overwhelming.

Nearly 390,000 people are now crammed into UNRWA schools, while the rest are living in tents, facing unimaginable hardship. We are working tirelessly to provide food, water, medicine, and clothing, but we simply cannot do this alone. We need your help to reach more people who are desperately in need of relief.

Here’s how you can help:

Donate: If you're able, please consider making a contribution. Every dollar makes a difference. Your donation will directly help provide essential supplies and support for those in need.

The people of Gaza are in desperate need of your support, and together, we can make a meaningful impact. Your generosity can offer hope where it's needed most.

Spread the word: Please reblog my pinned post to raise awareness. Every share helps us reach more people and bring attention to this crisis.

Thank you for your compassion and solidarity.

With deep gratitude,

Tumblr

Donate to Urgent Appeal: Support Our Humanitarian Mission in Gaza, organized by osama almoghani

Urgent Appeal: Support Our Humanitarian Mission in Gaza🇵🇸🍉♥️ My name is Osama Almoghani, I am a humanitarian activist and founder of "A

Hello my friend, I am Huda from Gaza, a newly married woman who is pregnant in her sixth month💔

Waiting a baby in this bad situation is hopeless and terrifying because I am afraid of losing him anytime owing to malnutrition, lack of medication and diseases💔😔😔💔💔

By your support you could help me buy medicine and food to save my child 💔💔🍉🇵🇸😭

By your small donations you can help me save my baby and leave Gaza💔🍉🇵🇸💔

I’m asking you to donate a small amount from $30 to $40 please it helps me a lot 🫂💜

Save my baby please 🙏🦋

gofundme.com

Donate to Help me and my little family evacuate from Gaza, organized by Abed Alrahman Al hella

Hi I’m AbedAlrahman alhella. I’m living in Belgium and I have … Abed Alrahman Al hella needs your support for Help me and my little family

Are you waiting for us to be killed and exterminated? 🍉💔

Can you bear the toothache 🥹

The bombing is surrounding us and there is no safe place to go 💔

To the innocent and the merciful, it is about humanity 😞

Save me from the massacres and certain death!! We may not survive in the coming hours 😞

Don't leave me and my family under genocide 🥹

Donate to me so I can escape the hell of war and undergo my surgeries and go to safety outside Gaza❤️

I hope everyone donates 20 or 30 dollars, it will make a difference for us so we can start a new life outside the stricken Gaza, where we cannot afford the travel costs, and the costs of my treatment ❤️🍉🍉

Share my posts because this will speed up our rescue process ❤️

https://gofund.me/4258a923

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Ahmed to save him and treat his teeth, organized by ahmed aldani

Hello, my name is Ahmed Motaz Salem Aldani, and I am 14 years old. I live in G… ahmed aldani needs your support for Help Ahmed to save him a

Hello, my name is Asala Al-Mashni, I am 28 years old, and my daughter Alia Salama is 3 years old. I lost my husband at the beginning of the war 💔 and my only daughter lost her father. Now we are alone😞. We ended up in a tent with a group of people after our house became uninhabitable. please. I do not want to lose my daughter as well. She is all I have left in life. We want to survive and escape together to safety. If you cannot donate🍉🇵🇸, share our story.🙏

Donate here, thank you.👇

https://gofund.me/1878a56c

https://gofund.me/1878a56c

Please do not ignore our suffering and leave us alone My name is Salman Helles, from the stricken Gaza Strip. We were displaced from the north of the Gaza Strip to the south of the Strip, and the family was dispersed in tents and displacement shelters. Our situation is very miserable. We do not have any of the necessities of life. We would not have asked for support and donations except because of our dire circumstances. Please donate to me as much as you can and make sure that your donation, no matter how small, contributes to saving us. If you cannot donate, share my campaign on your blog

My campaign has already been verified by 90-ghost

gofundme.com

Donate to Save the family of Salman Hellis from the Gaza Strip, organized by Salman Hellis

Hello dear .. Please do not ignore our suffering My name is Salman… Salman Hellis needs your support for Save the family of Salman Hellis f

Hi, can you write about yandere ethan who thinks he is in a relationship with the reader, and he is very affectionate with her, and always calls her by "honey, baby, love", the reader allows it because they are childhood friends and she knows that his family ignore and neglect him, so she always tries to give him affection, but eventually it becomes unbearable when she wants to meet more people and ethan doesn't let her because he is extremely jealous and possessive with her.

Love me baby

Yan!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

Masterlist if you want to read my others things.

TW/CW: love bombing (I think?), manipulation, lies, reader curses a lot(she's just going crazy guys), mention of sex

Don't know what to think of this. I came back for Halloween month isn't that crazy (it's not). I probably lost like 70% of you guys but yeah I'm alive. Still writing things that end up WAY too long. And I'm sorry but I'm working on all of your asks I'm just really slow but each of you are genius, so far I had crazy stories ideas.

Idk if that's what you wanted with your prompt but that's what I thought so I still hope you like it.

07/10/2024 (7254 words)

The door of your room creaks slowly, the dark atmosphere creating such a heavy tension in the air you could cut it with a knife. You hold your breath, keeping your eyes closed, praying. Footsteps are resonating on the wood flooring when they come to a sudden stop at the opposite of the bed. Slowly, the blanket is raised and a weight is pressed down on the mattress.

The warm of his body is both comforting and infuriating.

"I love to sleep with you." Whisper Ethan a smile in the voice.

You did not answer because you were pretending to be asleep. There was no way you were going to help him nourish his delusion.

You never understood why Ethan never changed with time. Because, well, most of the time, when a girl and a boy are childhood friends, there's this awkward transition thanks to puberty. It's the moment you realize that he's a man, and you're not. And he realizes it as well.

And normally from then, you have trouble sleeping in the same bed, being stuck together all day, eating each other's food. As people are always looking your way, asking since when are you two together and telling you how cute you are and shit.

But Ethan, it seems, never realized that growing up meant putting boundaries between you.

"You're warm." he says, lodging his face in the crook of your neck. Embracing your body with one arm on your waist and pulling your back against his torso. You're still pretending to be sound asleep.

You thought about asking him. Asking him if he didn't have difficulties to find a partner, since people always assume you are a couple. But you never asked. Because Ethan tells you everything, and you mean everything. So if he had trouble looking for love, you would have known first day.

But you're not even sure Ethan knows what love is to begin with.

His family, well, his family... His family had a favorite child, and it wasn't him. Richie, may he rest in peace, was the perfect golden child. Ethan always has been put aside along with his sister. His father never really tried to know his other kids.

But then Richie died. You're not sure how exactly because it's a taboo subject for him and his family, and you understand them. But from what you've heard, it was a sort of accident. A few friends of him didn't like his passion for Halloween so they tricked him, or something. You ignore all the details.

That's all you know, though. Richie and you weren't even close. He liked drama, for sure. But your friend was Ethan, not his brother. Plus, Ethan was giving you the stinky eye and acting jealous if you even tried to look at Richie. At the time, you found it normal. Richie was the favorite, Ethan didn't get attention as any of it went to his brother. You were his friend, his only friend, who wanted to talk to him and not his brother. Of course he would act jealous if he stole a little bit of you; you were the only support he had in life.

All of this to say, Ethan never received any real love. His sister loved him, you think. They were both neglected. But she loved her father more. And Ethan was conflicted as well. He admired and hated his father. So yeah, love in this family was complicated.

But now, as you're both grown up, sleeping in your bed together, you think you should've say something sooner.

"You're asleep baby ?" he whispers, chuckling in your ear.

Baby.

You don't remember when he first started calling you that. It was so... Smooth. You think he was joking at first, just like you. Calling you pet names just to annoy you. You were doing the same. But he started to slip these baby, love a little bit everywhere. So much that you become accustomed to it ! And you stopped paying attention. To you, his pet names just became another way to say bro, man, girl. There wasn't anything weird behind it. But you were naive.

"You really are sleeping ?"

Ethan is still a complicated man to understand. He seems to have such intense feelings inside him. He's supposed to tell you everything but you're not sure he really does. Like Richie's death.

He often cries the death of his brother, doing violent nightmares as well. Ethan never told you the real reason of his death. But it doesn't change anything, Ethan always ended up calling you in the middle of the night breaking down and asking for your support.

So it's no surprise that you ended up being his roommate.

Because you know him better than anyone else.

"Already ?" he whispers, skeptical.

And he knows you better than anyone else.

"Or are you ignoring me, hm ?"

Privacy with him was non existent. When you moved in, you were so excited to live a new life with your best friend. You even go to the same school ! You thought, naively, that it'd be so much fun ! Discovering your adult life with him and all.

Oh how you hate yourself, today.

Doors ? Always open. Clothes ? You're sharing them. Bed ? You bought two for nothing. He's constantly in yours. Fuck, where are you ? In jail ? You don't need to share everything !

But these days, Ethan acts different. Like, really different. He made friends. Alone. By himself. Friends that are not you. Which is new and a fricking good new. Because that means he'll finally start to live his own life without trying to glue you in it.

"Are you mad at me ?" the tip of his fingers draw invisible pattern on your arm. "I'm sorry."

His sister even is in this group. But she doesn't want you to join. Well, you think she doesn't, at least. Each time you smile at her, she sends you a death glare. Even Ethan choose not to introduce you to them. You're not even sure their new friends know they are related. The Kirsch family liked to stay private about their life. Or Landry, like Ethan wants you to call him now. Whatever makes him happy.

His friends are nice, though. You talked to them something like three times in the year but they're nice people. Their names are not quite in your head yet, but you do remember a few of them.

And Tara's really cute ! You thought that Ethan and her had a thing going on but when you asked him, he got all offended and denied everything in one block. So you don't know.

Well, you're lying. You do know, unfortunately. Ethan's in love with you. It's as obvious as the sun in the sky. You can't even be surprised, you saw it coming. He never talk to girls, you're probably the only one he ever talked to, or even looked in the eyes for that matter.

Since your childhood you've been here for him, supporting him when his family didn't. Loving him when he needed it the most. Of course, at the end, he would fall in love with you. But it wasn't the goal, you swear it wasn't your intention. Ethan is your friend.

Even if he's starting to get really clingy. A little too much. And even if he's trying to establish a routine too domestic for you.

"I don't have a thing for Tara, you know.

There he goes again. He's trying to reassure you. But damn, you don't need any reassurance. You're good. He's acting like you're the one getting jealous over nothing.

That's why he got offended when you asked him about her. Ethan is scared you'll think he's 'cheating' on you. Or do you think. Ethan never elaborated on what your relationship had become. Probably because he was afraid of your reaction, of your rejection.

-It's quite the opposite.

You retain yourself from asking him what he means by that, utterly confused. The opposite ? He doesn't like her, then ? But why is he hanging out with her so much ? Ethan is usually not the hypocrite type. Yes he's shy with people he doesn't know and is scared to give his opinion but when he doesn't like someone, he simply stops seeing them.

And once again, Tara's really nice. What did she do to make Ethan don't like her ?

-But you'll understand.

You stopped trying to understand him, a long time ago already. He just changed so much in the course of a few days. It's like he has too much on his mind. Sometimes, he just disappear from your apartment and come back hours later with a big smile on the face, all disheveled.

Of course, you thought he was seeing someone. Hell, his bag is always so bloated ! It's like he has spare clothes in it ! But it still wasn't the case. What the hell was going on with him ?

-So please, don't be mad at me.

-I'm tired, Ethan. You whisper, lips pursued thanks to your cheek planted on your pillow. He already knew you were awake anyway. Your sentence is enough to tell him you want to sleep and end this conversation.

-Of course, sorry baby."

And that was it. You knew he was smiling behind you but you didn't care. He left you alone, that's what matter. You were already trying to push him away for a long time but now you feel like time is missing. You need to make him understand that you do not like him and quick. It'll break his heart, but you're tired of pretending everything's alright, exhausted from constantly being the one to compromise.

You don't want to sound like a jerk but damn, Ethan is suffocating you. He's ruining both of your lives. The last time you had a partner have to be something like years ago ! You literally have to hide from him when you leave to see someone.

"Goodnight." He adds, ten minutes later. Probably scared that you forget about him so quickly.

How could you possibly change things ? Ethan is susceptible. It doesn't matter what your words or intentions are, he only hear what he wants to.

"Love you." he whispers so lowly you thought you imagined it.

You do not even try to answer.

The next day, in class, Ethan kept pestering you about the new movie he absolutely had to show you. Something along the line of a serial killer in a mine chasing people with a pickaxe, being in love with his ex-girlfriend and sabotaging her couple. Tonight would probably be centered around that film, just like every time you two have any free time. If that idea would have appealed you years prior, you today feel as if this is too much. Yesterday night laid a weird weight on your shoulders, a sort of unease that you can't quite shake off.

"Aren't you tired of always watching movies ? You grumble, annoyed, in hope of giving him the ick.

-No, he smiles, but we can do something else. No big deal. What did you have in mind ?"

You sigh, not even giving him enough attention to answer him. He'll probably still put the movie tonight, whether you like it or not. For sure to avoid another argument between you both. As you're constantly fighting, talking about a movie is the only way Ethan found to prevent an umpteenth dispute. Quite smart actually, if you forget the fact that you now know his strategy.

The hubbub slowly surrounding you alerts you of your soon to be lateness in class. With a nod in his direction, you start turning away from Ethan only for him to hastily grab your hand. Sighing, you raise a brow at him.

"We're walking home together, don't forget.

-Ethan we've been walking home together for years now. Clearly I won't forget." He smiles. His hands grab both of your cheeks and as his face approaches yours, panic settles thinking he would kiss you on the lips but he instead lay a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"See you later." Ethan's too happy voice says. You frown, holding his wrists to take them away from you in what could be similar to disgust. "Yeah, later." You say before finally leaving him for the next few classes, wiping his kiss on the way.

You won't see him for the afternoon as you both already ate together at home, and started class at 2PM (14h), to end the day at 8PM (20h).

These lonesome classes are both a benediction and a curse as you try as best as you can to befriend people but they always seem wary. It's probably too late for you to make friend now, the whole year is almost done. People already made friends earlier in the year and don't need any new ally.

And at the same time, Ethan is not here to harass you. That's why you still cherish this morning. Until you don't; your next class is with him and if you remember correctly the teacher talked about a group project last time. Great. Way to ruin a day.

But when you sit down, no one is there to bother you. Ethan is absent, probably late. A rare occurrence but a lovely one nonetheless.

Ten minutes later and he finally show up along with all of his new friends. Immediately, you lay down on the desk to avoid his gaze. But to your stupor, Ethan does not sit next to you and you hear the whispers of his group, conscious of having interrupted the lesson. Ethan ignored you.

Honestly, you can't pinpoint the main emotion this procured you. Relief at first but also confusion, fear of the harassment and countless excuses that'll come next. Happiness but wariness. The fact he's not next to you doesn't mean he's not watching and that's somehow ten times worse. You can't see him: you have no idea what he's doing.

Anyway, he's finally starting to replace you. Still, isn't that a bit toxic how your days are filled with fear to spend a mere minute in his presence while he acknowledges you only when wants to ? Well, everything about him is toxic. At this point, it doesn't change anything really.

You risk one look behind you to observe his usual shenanigans but he's busy, not even glancing your way. Now that you look at him, he doesn't seem really happy to talk to them, nor does Quinn. What is going on with them ? Ethan just look empty. He's staring into nothing, not even blinking. Just deep in thoughts. Though, as soon as Chad or one of the group talks to him, he gains back his merry behaviour. Weird. But hey, it's none of your business !

And that's the same spirit you sport when leaving for class, alone and not waiting for Ethan. It's good that the teacher reported the group project to tomorrow, you got to enjoy your day. You still hear him and his friends laugh in the background, but he's talking this time. Maybe he just wasn't in a good mood earlier and actually likes his friends, who know ?

And after all, if it's like that, you can go home alone. Not that you complain. You'll just say you didn't want to disturb him with his friends. After all, he's the one who doesn't want you to know them. You won't force him !

And hopefully, you'll finally enjoy some time to yourself. At peace, at home.

You push the heavy door of the building, leaving the place for the day. It's cold outside, too much for you own liking but you're alone and it's priceless. You can look at people in the street and you only realize how bad your situation really is. You do not even allow partners to treat you like this, but somehow you allow Ethan to? It's time to wake up. You can't live like this anymore. Ethan trapped you in a toxic relationship for fuck sake. If you can't change him, you'll change yourself. But he can't find out.

But when you thought you were finally free, rushed footsteps hitting the ground can be heard in your back. Goosebumps raises your body hair as you fear already knowing who's coming.

"You promised!" He shouts and your steps stop abruptly, turning to look at him. You allow him to run the distance left between you before he stops in front of you. "And you left without me. He is out of breath, having ran all the way here.

-You were busy.

-I'm never busy when you're here. Ethan tells you with a playful grin, almost flirting with you, passing his fingers in his curls to tame them. You can come fetch me if you're scared I forget about you.

He's joking, you think, he's just friendly and joking. Nothing's weird and — shit, who are you lying to ? Of course he's not but what the hell can you do ?

-How was you day ? He asks, changing subject. He saw your unease, like always, and try to take your attention on something else. Math sucked today, we worked on... but he suddenly interrupts himself, eyes going wide. I forgot to give my essay to the English teacher.

You already gave yours this morning. But it's weird that Ethan did not. He's usually the perfect little student. Always giving his homework the next day he was asked to do it. There really is something weird, he's a little bit too much in his own head. And it's starting to show.

-I still have my draft, you can just copy mine and give it tomorrow, it's no big deal. You shrug, looking at both sides of the road before crossing. You're always the first to hand homework, I'm sure he won't mind if you give it a little bit later.

"Really ? He smiles brightly when you nod. "Thank you! You know, I have no idea what I'd do without you baby.

Your body tenses. You feel like the discussion is going in a direction you don't want it to go. It's obvious he's not only talking about the homework you let him copy.

-It's nothing, you start, but it's already too late.

-You know, I don't think you realize all the things you've done for me. Not just the homework, like, in all our life.

You hate how he said 'our life', like you share one.

-For real Ethan, you add but much more coldly than before, it's nothing. Are you done ? Can we let it go, now ?"

Yes, being mean maybe wasn't the best solution. But you ran out of ideas. And Ethan never look like he's hurt by your harsh tone. It's like he doesn't even listen to you most of the time you're starting to get angry at him. He just nods and smiles like an idiot.

The rest of the way home, Ethan ranted about everything and anything he did at school and asked you questions which you did not bother to answer to, to what he filled the answers himself.

On the last steps to your apartment, you realize you have to act today for your future.

Ethan opens the door and allows you to enter before him. Turning the light on, you're pleased to see your sweet comfort.

"Happy to be home, you grunt, letting your bag fall on the ground.

-Happy I caught up to you.

Is he being passive aggressive ? What are you even supposed to say to that ? You give him a tight lip smile and walk to the kitchen, getting you a cup of water.

-What we doing now ? He asks, leaning on the counter.

Well, you for sure don't know about 'we' but you are going to sleep. You need to set up boundaries, or at least introduce them to him.

-It's getting late. I think I'll go to sleep.

-Already ? Okay, well, I'm coming in a few seconds.

-About that... Ethan stops in his track. You tub your temples. Here you go again. You're sleeping in your room tonight, you state. Not open for any negotiation.

Ethan stares at you as if you had grow another head.

-You don't want to sleep with me ?

-I had a really tiring day, I just want to sleep alone for tonight. But if you have another nightmare come knock, I'll see what I can do.

Naively, you thought that making him pity you would work, that he'd understand, tell you goodnight and everything would be done for the day. But it's Ethan. And you haven't been separated from Ethan since you guys were kids.

The boy stares at you with doe eyes, trying to coax you into giving him what he wants, before frowning, articulating words that won't come out.

He's trying to gently manipulate you, again. And you repeat yourself that it's not his fault, he's a victim of his shitty family. He doesn't have any social awareness, he's not doing it on purpose. Well, you think he's doing it on purpose but without really acknowledging it. As you told him multiple times his behaviour could be obsessive and he's aware of it. But it's as if he can't help it.

You're confused. But at the same time, you don't really know much about the interactions he had with his father along his childhood. Maybe he's copying this mechanism because he saw his progenitor doing it ? His father could be manipulative after all. Your parents always found him weird but with the death of his first son, he just completely lost it.

-You... You don't want to sleep with me. Mumbles Ethan more to himself.

-Exactly Ethan, I don't want to.

It's like you see the gear turning in his head.

-Why ? he asks which caused a sigh to escape you.

-I wanted to talk to you about it for a while now. It's complicated." You sit on the back of the cushion and scratch at you arm to help you think. "I like you a lot Ethan, you know right ?

His lips turns up to display a bright smile, his face seem to shine at your words and he nods multiple times. You think you see his eyes stare at your lips.

-I love you too. I hope you know that.

Now, 'love' wasn't actually the word you used but you're going to have to ignore that.

-The thing is, Ethan, that we do not have to be stuck together every minutes of the day, you hear me ? Sometimes I want to sleep alone. And I'm sure you want to be alone too, right ? Ethan frowns and laugh nervously.

-I actually don't, I... Why would I want to be alone ? I sleep really well with you. Don't you ? Why do you suddenly hate being with me ?

-Wow okay I did not say that. You are interpreting my words in a way I don't like. I don't hate to be with you I just...

-What do you need to do that requires me to be out of your bedroom ?

Lot of things. But there is some you can't say out loud.

-What ? Tell me then ? What are you-. Ethan says, cheeks turning red. Oh, yeah, you can sleep alone for tonight I guess, he clears his throat. He avoids eye contact, trying to act tough.

Is he thinking about what you think ?

-Ethan, I won't do any weird stuff tonight. I just want to be alone. I like to sleep in a star like position or just being able to move in my sleep you know ? That's all.

-But you can do that with me.

Maybe you should've stick with whatever dirty thought he had. You should have told him you were going to invite someone over or.. Or fucking masturbate if that's what you need to get him out. Because Ethan steps towards you, an empty expression he doesn't give you often on the face.

-You're lying to me. That's not why you want to sleep alone. I really hate you lying to me.

-I am not lying to you Ethan, I'm exhausted.

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest and getting defensive. How come you ruined everything ? Nothing is ever right with him, he always find a way to change your words or just get offended over anything.

-You'll be talking all night with him, won't you?

That right now is one of the many reasons as to why you never tried to bring the topic of personal space to a man like him.

-Ethan for the love of god, I want to sleep! I won't talk to anyone, damn.

You don't even know who is that 'him' ! It's not like you have the opportunity to talk to a lot of people, Ethan always ruin everything. And in any case he doesn't, everyone just assume that you two are together already.

-You're lying. You'll chat with him. Give me your phone. I... I can't let you do that. I'll be all alone and you'll laugh with him while I'll be with my broken heart.

The light of the living room was starting to hurt your tired eyes, you couldn't retain many yawns from escaping. Turning on your phone, you learn you've been fighting for ten minutes. You needed to sleep but Ethan wasn't on the same page. It was late, too late for bullshit like this.

-Who are you even talking about ?

He suddenly tries to grab your phone by force, pulling it towards him. Our of pure bewilderment you tighten your hold on the device, grasping it so hard the screen might have broke. You slap him in the face with your free hand, utterly in disbelief. Ethan stands still, shock on his face while he let go of your device to touch his cheek.

-What is wrong with you ? You whisper with disgust. It's the first time Ethan acted physical with you. And probably the last time as the numerous searches for accommodations on your phone testify.

-Why can't I see your damn phone?

-And why do you fucking want to see it ?

Silence. He stands still, frowning. Probably considering if he'll either go for manipulation or violence. But his next words are so out of pocket that you need a minute to compose yourself.

-Are you prostituting yourself or what ? With the number of men you see.

Honestly, it simply is sad to see what you two had became. As children, you were attached to the hip, fusional. You could both end each other sentence. Today, it seems only Ethan is able to do that as he knows you more and more when you know him less and less.

-I think we're done for the night Ethan." You walk to your room, using his stillness to take your time before slamming the door shut in his face, locking it for the night. You hear Ethan knocking his palm against the wood separating you both but you chose to ignore it.

-Open the door please, let's talk." He never stops knocking on the door, probably thinking you'd open it at one point, annoyed at him. But not tonight.

You open your drawers and start changing, frowning at the sight of his boxers laying in your clothes. He's still rambling in the background but you pay him no mind, doing your own life on your side.

-What you're doing is really childish. We're both adults and we should act as such. Open the fucking door, please. You smile.

There he goes. The real Ethan. The meanie. The man after the death of his brother: Ethan Landry. A completely different man.

-Are you listening to me ? Open that fucking door, we are not done talking because I know you're not ignoring me after being the one who left me alone on campus.

Of course he would use that against you but you don't even care. Yeah you left him alone, so what ? He's a big man, isn't he ? Surely he's not scared of walking alone.

-See how you are ? All big and proud before me but then when we really need to talk you hide." He mutters something you don't hear, but then you catch his footsteps moving away.

You're confused but decide it's a good thing he gave up and fall on the bed, it's the first time in probably months where you're allowed to lay like a star fish in your own bed. You relish in the newfound comfort you missed how so much. You plunge your face in your pillow and hug it firmly.

At one point, it falls on you that Ethan never give up that quickly and realize that upon hearing no reaction from you, he must've changed plan as his footsteps are back, along with an unknown sound of something falling right in front of your door. To no one surprise, he now starts apologizing.

"I'm stupid, okay ? Forgive me. I'm sorry. Open please. His voice is muffled through the door, and you ignore it. I'm just worried about you. I know you're not seeing anyone.

Great, he's back.

-And I'm sorry for getting angry at you. I was frustrated.

He's not and you know it. When Ethan has something in mind, he'll go to incredible length to accomplish it. Sometimes, you ask yourself if he's acting this way because of you. If you once told him something, did something that could have impacted him.

-I just really like you, I know I can be a lot sometimes but you forgive me, right ? You always do." You think about definitely moving out of here, once and for all, far from him when you fall asleep.

When sunlight woke you up the next day and you decided to head to the kitchen, you were surprised to see Ethan, sleeping tightly on his mattress on the ground at your feet, right before the door. You completely forgot about him. There's no way he really slept on the ground all night. It's not normal, you're worried about him. Maybe you need to take him to a psychiatrist.

You stay stunned a few minutes, seriously worrying over the state of your friend for him to be doing literally anything. You were going to wake him up, but then you remembered how weird he was being with you recently and decided to let him be.

Ignoring him, you step over his body and start to prepare your breakfast. Of course, Ethan quickly woke up upon hearing you rummaging the drawers.

"Hi baby..." He whispers, tired from his sleepless night, eyes still partially closed. "Slept well ?

-Yes actually. The best night of sleep I've had in a long time. There was a bounce in your steps that couldn't be ignored.

-Well I had nightmares." It's hard to discern the truth in all of his lies. Maybe he really had nightmares, maybe he just wants you to feel guilty.

There was a tension in the apartment this morning that even Ethan couldn't hide this time. He stayed silent for the most part of the walk to class. Something in your relationship changed and the unknown scares you. What will happen now ?

Your first lesson is with Ethan, but he leaves your side to go straight to his friends. Chuckling, you know he's still angry at you and is trying to make you mad.

As soon as you sit, the teacher announces the instructions of the group project everyone will have to do in these two hours and then finish at home. Name by name, she lists duets and the class start to move around, going to their partner. When your name is coupled with another, you see a guy walks towards you with a smile. He stops in front of your table.

"You're the one I'm doing the project with, right ?

You smile to him and nod, giving him your name. He repeated your action, introducing himself. He was cute. He sits by your side, you chat a little, getting to know each other. You hope he usually has good grade, you really don't want to repeat your year.

The man now sat on the chair next to you start planning the organization of the project. Dividing the task to be much more efficient. That's what you do, telling him you can do the second part while he does the first. Everything was going well until you realized that it's been a long time since you saw the Kirsch boy, and of course, he had to change that.

The curly man heads your way, smiling upon seeing you make eye contact with him. He stares one second at the man by your side, immediately displaying a smile who you knew announced no good.

"Hi, I'm Ethan. I asked the teacher to change groups. So you're not with her anymore, you're actually with Amber over there" he turns his back to you and point to a girl further away. "The one in blue." He looks back at you two, using his shy demeanor and lanky posture to appear as the nerd you know damn well he isn't. He knows that by acting this way, he is laughed at but never yelled at. He looks innocent.

-What ? Why ? Why would you ask the teacher that ? You ask.

-Because we're friends so we'll work better together." He was giving you that shy smile you learnt to hate. He thought you'd forgive him quicker this way; he was right. You did forgive him quicker in the past, but not anymore. It's quite the opposite now, each time he was trying to manipulate you like this, you were getting angrier.

"And I know how much you're insecure about yourself and all so, it's for you !"

What the actual fuck is he talking about!

All the while telling you this, Ethan never looked in your new friend's way. His attention was solely on you. He's humiliating you, and on purpose. Confused, embarrassed and sorry, you search the other man's eyes. He was just like you. He raises a brow then shrugs. He packs his things, you apologize and he smiles, telling you that it's okay. You felt like shit.

He's heading towards the girl Ethan forced him to work with.

"Why would you do that ?

He's embarrassing ! You look like two losers who only have each others as friends and don't want to talk to anyone else. It's seriously tiring. You've been each other sole friend for years ! You can't even name someone you've been friend with for more than a month !

-We're friends, remember ? he raises his brow, as if telling you the obvious.

-And that's a reason to push everyone else away ? To humiliate me ? What the fuck are you on about me being insecure ? I get that you're angry at me but fuck it Ethan.

-He's an asshole. I saw him around. You really shouldn't hang around him." He does not elucidate on the other part of your sentences. But you know what he would have said already; it's a test to see if he'd stayed, and he didn't so he's not your friend.

You don't even want to argue with him at this point. It was useless, he was never listening to you. It's impossible for you to count the times in which Ethan drove everyone away. You had literally zero friends here but Ethan.

Once, a girl came talk to you in finance but Ethan arrived and jokingly told her you had AIDS. What the fuck ? Who say that first thing when meeting someone ? Even her didn't understand. She just thought you two were weird and never talked to you ever again. It's like he loves to embarrass you in front of everyone. And when you got angry at him, he just said it was a joke but he was just so awkward with people and- Fuck. He pretended to be the victim, again.

You always try to help him. You know he had a difficult childhood, never received love, never had friends, you know. That's why you always overlooked his flaws. But today and this night was just too much.

That night, you locked yourself in the toilet to chat with the owner who could potentially save your life. She asked you about your studies and your work to know more about your profile.

"I'm in New York right now but I'm almost finished with my degree so that's why I plan to move out." You send her.

The owner shares with you her excitement towards you living in New York, saying how she's doesn't understand why would someone leave a big city to a place as desolated as where she is. You answer briefly, something along the lines of family problems.

You really hope she'll accept your profile. Her house is beautiful and perfectly located. Far enough from the city, but close enough that you can go there for a future work. Rent is high but it's necessary or Ethan definitely will end you.

"Did you die in here ?" Ethan knocks on the door. Yeah, you really need to get out of here. Flushing and washing your hand, to make it look credible, you adjust your clothes before opening the door. Ethan is in front of you, staring at you from head to toe.

"Where are we going ?

You heard about a party going on and decided to join on a whim, tired of being locked up here all the time.

-You're personally not going anywhere, you hide your device in your pocket, fearing he might discover your project of leaving town. But I'm leaving for a party. He frowns.

-Who will there be? Who you're going out with ? Why am I not allowed ?

-You don't know them." You say without looking at him, too busy in closing your jacket. You considered lying to him in saying it's a girls only party. But thought otherwise.

"Then don't go."

You sigh, exasperated, and close your eyelids tightly to try to keep your cool. He's doing it again. Grabbing your purse, you search for your bus card while walking to the door.

"Well I want to, Ethan.

-But I don't."

His sentence stopped you in your tracks. The beating of your heart resonate in your head, giving you a headache. You know if he continues in this direction, you will explode. Frustration and rage were mixing in your mind. He has to stop, right now.

Controlling your breathing turns out to be much more difficult in those conditions. Slowly, your body turns towards him. You tilt your head to the side and chuckle dryly, speechless by his audacity. Staring at Ethan with frown accompanying a fake smile, one too happy for your predicament, you realize he doesn't seem uncomfortable at all after saying such stupids things to your face.

"And since when do you decide of what I do ?" you plainly laugh, not even trying to hide it, both sarcastically and in bewilderment.

"Why are you always trying to go and cheat ?

-Excuse me ?

-I'm literally here." he frowns, staring at you like you're the guilty one. "I'm... What the hell do you fucking need ? We can just spend the night on the couch and watch a movie, why're you always leaving me ?" Ethan is shaking his head angrily, showing you his emotions are true by using his body, making his curls bounce in the process.

Him and his stupid movies !

-You can't decide for me. Where does that come from Ethan ? I'm going where I want, when I want with who I want.

-No you're not.

That was the final straw.

-And who the fuck are you ? Who the fuck do you think you are ? You walk up to him, face dangerously close to his.

-Yeah, who am I ? Who am I to you ? What am I ? What are we ? He pushes himself towards you, making you backtrack. I thought we were bonded forever, why the sudden change ?

-I don't care about your teenage crisis for fuck sake ! Everything is always about you, you and you ! I want to leave, so you're going to let me fucking leave !

-You're in love with Chad, right ?

You frown your brow and open your mouth to answer but the shock and utter confusion prevents any words, sounds, from coming out. What is he even talking about ? What is wrong with him ? Where is the fucking link between Chad and you ? You never even pronounced his name in front of him !

-What the fuck, Ethan ! I don't even know him !

-That's what you're saying, now. But what if you're lying to me ? He looked hurt and you couldn't understand it. He was literally creating problem in his head and then getting mad over it.

-How do you even come to this conclusion ! I- You know what ? I don't want to argue. You need some fucking therapy, Ethan.

-That's why you want to leave tonight. You plan on having sex with Chad.

-What the fuck is wrong with you, Ethan. For real. It's not even funny it's just... It's just worrying. What the hell is wrong with you ?

-I'm perfectly fine, what is wrong with you ?

-Don't you dare play this on me.

-Nothing is fucking wrong with me, you always say that but I'm perfectly fine. I told you I just don't want you to have sex with Chad. Sorry for loving my girlfriend I guess !

-Your what now ? Because I don't recall agreeing to-

-That's not the point, you're gonna fuck that fucking idiot !

-Stop saying that ! Fuck, Ethan ! You're weird !

Ethan was a virgin, for sure. But does it excuse the fact that he was being an absolute creep right now ? No. Clearly not. Why was he so invested in your sex life ? And did he have to make it a whole conversation ?

-Ethan, you hold your face in despair, you really need some fucking help because I can't stand it anymore. You're destroying my life. Your lip wobble, you feel like crying but don't know why. Is it anger or sadness, maybe even exhaust. I am tired. So I'm begging you to please consult a therapist.

Out of shock, Ethan stays silent. Watching as your eyes water. He raises a hand towards your face, slowly. But you push it away and leave the place, slamming the door. In the stairs, you jump over a few steps and almost fall multiple times but you don't think about it. You need to leave. If you can find somewhere to sleep at it would be perfect, but you don't push your luck.

Fortunately, you didn't tell Ethan where you were headed. Once at the party, you would have fun and enjoy the moment without thinking about Ethan. That's the plan.

Only, his plan did not concord with yours as an armed masked man came for a surprise visit.

where?

engloutir

1.2 K words

warnings - incredibly vague spot in the csm timeline (somewhere post vol. 11 but before part 2), character study stupid daydream bullshit, angst :) and fluff, IMMEDIATE SPOILERS

summary - Denji has never been one to see himself as a "settle down" kinda guy, but now he might be ready for you (not so much plot).

You have to remind yourself, often, that Denji is another person. Under the chainsaws and the lackadaisical attitude, he is still a man. Soft and flesh and tears. Man.

He sits on your porch now. Makima gone. Power gone. Aki gone. Brothers and sisters and lovers - all for a moment in the blip of his lifetime, all beloved with each stretch of his heart. He’s quiet - bizarrely - staring up at the blanketed stars. Chairs shoulder to shoulder, you’re expected to take the one by him.

“I didn’t know if you wanted anything so I got you - uh - this,” you hold a warm mug out over his shoulder. It was a gift from Himeno, on your first birthday since meeting her. Light blue with a picture of you two printed ugly and wide across the front, “Just warm milk.”

“I think I’m lactose intolerant,” Denji takes the mug anyway. He thinks it’s nice you were concerned about his tastes, but he’ll eat anything. He’s hungry for it all and he always wants more.

“I can get you something else?” you hold a hand out and he wants to take it - drag you down with him, but that’d be sullying and he doesn’t know if he’s quite that hungry.

“Nah,” he sips from your warmed milk and honey and you remember he’s been through hell.

The bags under his eyes have gotten heavier and his shoulders slouch a bit more than they used to.

“This is perfect,” his sharp teeth might cut right through your mug, he almost wants to. Just to leave evidence he was ever there. That you let him in.

He’s always liked you - you were kinder than the others, more patient, more attentive, more genuine. Now that Makima can’t hold the leash like she used to, he realizes he liked your method better. The gentler hand that feeds what he asks and chances being bit rather than shoving escargot past his teeth.

Sometimes you forget he’s hurt, it's easy when he usually isn’t so quiet - he can talk faster than Power could clear a room, and he puts it to good use when he doesn’t want people asking questions. You feel bad you don’t ask, especially with the way he stares.

You crawl over the armrest to your other deck chair and stare into your own mug. Plain water is mostly all you can stomach these days. Everything else tastes like Aki and Power and Himeno and Beam and Angel and Galgali even though you know it shouldn’t. Kishibe told you it’d get you killed.

Maybe you shouldn’t have let Denji live with you - milk may start to taste like sunset hair and a vulgar tongue. Maybe Denji won’t be able to stomach water.

It’s cold tonight. And Denji sees you shiver.

“Where’s your jacket?” his tone is accusatory, “Trying to catch something?”

“Forgot it inside, I think,” you know you did, pouting as you huff soon after, “I don’t wanna get up…”

Denji is not selfless, but he sets down the mug with you and Himeno stretched over and braces his hands on the armrests of his chair, “Want me to run inside?”

“No, no!” you bat his arm until he’s relaxed again, “Don’t ruin this.”

It’s a common night. One you see more often than not, but Denji would write home about it just because it’s seen from a clean porch in a cushioned chair outside a nice apartment. With you. But he can’t write home - and the more he thinks about it the more he realizes it might just be because he’d be writing back to you.

The water is flat and plain on your tongue, but it’s better than cracking over the soda Aki used to always buy you when he’d see it.

Denji’s milk is starting to cool and form a thin film over top - he hates the film but he will drink it anyway. Because he is starving, and because you made it.

Denji wants to unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. Not to hurt. Not to kill. To keep. He wants you in his mornings and he wants you at night. He wants you forever and always and he wants you in my palms. He wants you to want him - want him for Denji, for the human beneath the chainsaws and surrounded by the flesh. To make sure you need him like he does you and secure you like he couldn’t with Aki and Power.

You feel like the warm blanket in December, when you can crawl into a bed at the end of the day and rub your feet together while curling into a ball.

He wants you to swallow him whole.

And when you look at the emptiness left in his chair and ask, “Can I sit with you?” he feels like you’re about to.

He hums and scoots closer to the leftmost arm of the chair, looking up at you as you stand. His eyes are big and wonderful and you can almost see stars twinkle in their reflection - or maybe that’s just Denji.

Almost as he was when you first met him. With big, loud words and no sense of his place.

“You can sit on my lap, too, if you want?” he’s grinning now, and this feels natural.

Talking about how he avoids his birthday and answering the phone can wait another day - for now, he just wants a blanket in December and you’re taking his offer. One leg looping over his and your side caving close to him.

“Such a perv,” you pinch his skin and notice there’s more fat than when you first met him. You don’t say anything, you don’t want him to think too much about it.

“You know it!” he holds out his mug and you clink yours with it, he polishes off his cold milk and the bitter, nasty film that formed on the surface in one gulp. You sip your water and lay your head against his shoulder.

He’s calmer these days, though, and you assume it’s what he’s been through. Having to return from hell.

“Wanna go to the store with me tomorrow?” you angle your head to stare at Denji.

Moonlight mirrors off his skin nicely - cherry cheeks warm against yours and eyes sweet when they turn back to you. You don’t know exactly what you two are, but you do know that if he leaned down to kiss you - you wouldn’t stop him.

“Sure,” he stares a little longer and you hope he likes this angle of your face, he doesn’t think there’s a possibility he couldn’t, “The one with the dog on the sign, right?”

He still likes dogs - you assume that’s the memories of Pochita. You’re glad Makima couldn’t rip that from him.

You nod slowly, grinning at him as he beams back down at you, “Duh. And the free samples.”

“Fuck yeah!” he kicks his legs out and onto the porch banister and leaves them there.

His muscles are less tense now, and when you stretch your legs out to rest by his, he melts into his chair even further - because he is hungry.

He will drink the milk and eat the film and consume your presence in its entirety. He wants to swallow and be swallowed. To be secured like neither of you could do before. Whole. Entirely.

~~~

@chainsaw-man-inserts finally... a return to chainsaw man

As a girl or woman, raise yourself to be an intellectual. Raise yourself to be a reader, a traveller, a curious explorer. Raise girls who are independent livers and thinkers, who are critical of standard narratives and status quos and societal and religious dogma. Girls and women will never benefit from being naïve, stuck in one place, unaware, ignorant, out of options, close minded etc besides deriving from these states a false sense of safety, but the patriarchy reaps massive profits from afflicting these conditions.

i dont think anything compares to the joy of getting asks on tumblr or getting comments on ao3

its like, wow. human communication thru the internet. except it feels personal. but yknow, in a nice way, not in an invasive way

its like, you CLICKED on MY account and read thru MY posts and cared enough to leave me a personal message. smth so cute abt that

Show Me How

Summary: You’ve been conditioned to only seek perfection your entire life, but your crush on Mina Ashido is anything but perfect. So when she invites you to a party and gets a little too handsy, she has to show you what you’ve been missing.

Characters: Mina Ashido x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Internalized homophobia, doting, grinding, self sabotage, first time, scissoring, hair pulling, denial, eating out, crying, squirting, nipple piercings, mentions of alcohol

Words: 6.1k

You did not like Mina Ashido. Not at all.

At least, that’s what you told yourself as you begged your eyes to look away from her. She was mid squat, barbell resting on her shoulders as she lifted the weight smoothly. The muscles in her legs rippled, contorting under the weight of the bar she was pressing up. And, oh God, her ass. Her shorts were way too short, tight elastic riding up her thighs and leaving little to the imagination, complimenting her curves beautifully. Only when she fully stood up and hooked the bar on the rack did you glance down to the floor, cursing yourself. 

You hated weight room days. As you pushed the dumbbells over your head, you forced your eyes to the ceiling, concentrating on controlling your breathing. But when Mina’s obnoxious laugh rang through the gym, your eyes peeled away and landed on her face, sweaty and flushed from lifting well over 150 pounds. Fuck. You forced your eyes back up, making yourself count the tiles to drown out whatever conversation she was having with Jiro. It didn’t work. You finally gave up, setting the dumbbells on the ground beside your bench and flipping your water open, chugging quickly. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Mina. It was that you weren’t supposed to. You knew you weren’t supposed to. Much like your classmate Todoroki, you were a child born solely for quirk usage, affection a rare thing. From this, your parents expected nothing but perfection. Every grade in junior high was an A or better, every extracurricular activity you participated in was to better your mind or your physical abilities. You even made it into UA on recommendation, skipping the entrance exam completely. Everything you accomplished was nothing short of perfection, but that’s the only way your parents would have it. This stunted your mental health severely. Every mistake was met with severe punishments, giving you no room to grow or flourish on your own. It was either you accepted what your parents planned for you, or you would never make it past a nine-to-five. 

And liking a girl was not in their plans. 

They wanted you to carry their name, bringing heroic children into the world to continue their legacy. You were to marry a hero on par with yourself or better, but never anything less. 

So when you caught your eyes lingering on Mina’s body, or smiling a little wider when she talked to you, or even thinking about her before you went to bed at night. That was a problem. For the first time in your life, you had a problem your parents couldn’t magically make disappear. And it drove you crazy. Now you lived every day of classes begging your eyes not to wander, pleading with your mind not to think of her on top of you, kissing you…

Slamming your water bottle down, you lifted the weights again, thrusting them over your head as you huffed. “[Y/N]?” Shit. You settled the weights on the tops of your thighs, glancing up to see a cute pink face smiling down at you. Mina’s face was darker than usual, but it usually was for a while after she got done working out. Sweat made her coiled hair stick to her forehead, but her bright smile was really what distracted you. “Hi, Mina.” You smiled back, breathing deeply and cursing yourself immediately when you smelled her signature sweet perfume. You were in a losing battle and you knew it.

“Listen. There’s this party that the upperclassmen are throwing to celebrate finals being over, and you’ve gottaaaa go.” She smiled, plopping down on the bench next to you, tapping her feet on the padded ground. “Most everyone from class is going, but I wanted to make sure you knew too.” Her being this close was electrifying. Her white sports bra cupped her tits perfectly, her leaning over to give you the perfect angle to see her cleavage. You quickly glanced between them and her face, begging she didn’t catch your wandering eyes. Your answering nod made her smile, gripping your arm tightly before she stood up. “Okay, okay, I’ll see you tonight.” She giggled, scurrying back across the gym to throw her arm around Jiro and laugh about something unheard. When you finally felt the blush on your cheeks settle, you went back to lifting the weights above your head, drowning out your excitement the best you could.

Before Mina was your crush, she was your friend. And nothing was going to let you ruin that connection you admired so much. No matter how badly you wanted to break the rules your parents set. Before all else, you were a hero. You had to act like it. You breathed deep, straining your muscles as your eyes followed Mina out the door. 

-

Tugging the small dress down around your thighs, you sighed in the mirror, contemplating if this dress looked good enough. Several others were sprawled on your dorm floor, a mess piling up that you were too lazy to clean. You had done your makeup earlier, wiping and reapplying in spots you thought didn’t look good enough. Usually, your appearance wasn’t that important. But tonight, Mina would be dressed out in some way too short dress with her makeup done, and for some reason, you suddenly cared a whole lot about how you looked.

The sun was creeping low outside, a thick wash of orange and pink lighting the sky. You had gotten the rest of the info about the party in a short text from Mina explaining where and when it was. It had started about an hour ago, but your procrastination kept you from being timely. Nejire and some of her older friends were hosting the party in their shared dorm building across campus, but their housing was much larger than your classes. It would be fun. Hopefully.

You slid your earrings into your lobes and took one final look at yourself. Your dress and heels matched nicely, and the small handbag you had mainly for carrying your phone and wallet, still looked cute. This was as good as it was going to get. Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you left your room, climbed the steps down to the first floor and pressed through the large glass door to the campus outside. It was already getting dark, the sun just barely hanging above the horizon as stars began to speckle the sky. The night breeze was warm, which relieved you from getting goosebumps all over your freshly shaven legs. Before you could psych yourself out, you hurried on the sidewalk towards the large dorm building across the field. 

-

You could hear the loud music outside of the building before you ever even opened the doors. Small groups of students littered the yard, keeping to themselves in conversations as they threw back cheap beer and vodka shots. You didn’t know anyone yet, everyone was either an upperclassman or a part of some other support course that didn’t mix with the heroes. As you climbed the steps, pulling the large doors open, the chaos of the party slammed into you. 

The common room of the dorm was packed wall to wall with students you didn’t recognize. Third-years made up a big chunk of the crowd from what you could tell. As you stepped inside, more of the atmosphere revealed itself. Groups of students lounged on the communal couches, some in other’s laps or nearly passed out, but most of them were making out. In the kitchen, beer pong games were set up with guys yelling and hollering their excitement. However, most of the party was out in the open part of the floor, dancing and grinding on each other as the loud music thudded through several large speakers. It was wild and loud, with students yelling across the room to their friends or screaming along to the lyrics of whatever song was playing. Flashing colors and lights streamed across the walls and blinded you occasionally. It seemed to be coming from a student’s quirk, their fingers shooting out ribbons of rainbow light in the dark and completing the loud atmosphere. You were immediately overwhelmed, hugging the wall as you slid to the small kitchen and grabbing a bottle of water. 

If there was one thing third-years knew how to do, it was throw a party. You scanned the room, trying to recognize any faces in the dark but finding no luck. Nursing your water, you slowly moved back onto the floor. If you knew Mina, she would be in the middle of the crowd dancing. Exactly where you didn’t want to be. Reluctantly, you pressed deeper into the sea of people, nudging your shoulders in between way-too-close people and praying you’d find someone from your class. Finally, over the huddle, you saw a strike of yellow hair and immediately followed it.

Bouncing along with the loud music, Denki, sweaty and red-faced, was pressed up against some second-year you recognized to be from the foreign heroes department. The transfer student had her ass pressed firmly against him, grinding down with the beat of the song. Gross. Grabbing his arm, you peeled his hand from her hip and caught his attention. “Hey! Have you seen Ashido?!” You had to yell over the thudding music to be able to hear yourself, but Denki still couldn’t. “Huh??” He yelled back, pressing his head down closer to your mouth to hear you better. “Ashido! Have you seen her?!” He pulled back with a confused face, shaking his head and pointing to his ear signaling that he still couldn’t hear. Denki repositioned his hand on the girl’s hips, snugging her ass closer against his crotch and sporting a blissed-out smile. You rolled your eyes, moving to press further into the crowd before feeling Denki pull you back. “Wait! Mina was looking for you earlier! She’s up near the speaker booth!” He yelled, returning his focus to the second year as she giggled against him. Sighing heavily, you pressed towards the table at the front of the crowd with speakers blasting, searching for Mina. 

You heard her yelling before you saw her. Her cute voice squealed as she and Hagakure jumped together, singing loudly as the music blasted in front of them. When her face came into view, it stopped you in your tracks. Her dark eyes were beautifully contrasted with bright makeup, rainbow colors ombre over her eyelids and making her skin pop. Big hooped earrings, a small chain necklace, and… Fuck… That dress. It was black and sparkled against the colorful lights bouncing off the walls. Hugging her every curve, the tight fabric ended right below her ass and was riding up the more she danced, her tits nearly spilling out the same. You could feel the heat on your face the closer you stepped. Every time she jumped her tits bounced so lewdly. But, God, if she wasn’t beautiful.

When she finally caught you out of the corner of her eye, she smiled brightly, her goofy face stumbling over to you in her thin heels. “[Y/N]!” She yelled, throwing her arms around your neck and pressing her chest against yours. It was all you could do not to look down, forcing yourself to look solely into her eyes and she began to sway with the music again. You glanced behind her, Hagakure finding Jiro and making the shy girl her new dance partner. “I thought you weren’t gonna come!” This close, you could smell the vodka on her breath, her hooded eyes answering on how sober she was. “Sorry! Lost track of time!” Lies, you were just too nervous to actually get here on time. It didn’t seem like Mina cared as she was tugging your body with hers to the beat of the music, flushed cheeks bright under the glow of the lights. Other bodies pressed close around you, giving you little room to move besides pressing closer to the drunk alien. 

Suddenly, the song that was playing faded out and a loud rap song you didn’t recognize blasted, sending a few students hollering with excitement. Including Mina, whose eyes blew wide and smile grew wider as she gripped your shoulders tighter. “I love this song!” But before you could respond, she was turning around, pressing her back against your chest and pressing her plump ass against you. Suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. Your eyes shot wide, hands stuck at your sides as Mina began to grind her hips back onto your crotch. You didn’t know what to do. Your body refused to move as you felt your stomach twist and knot with excitement. This was bad, this was really bad. But Mina, being the ever-intuitive, recognized your stiffness and leaned back, resting her head on your shoulder.

“Relaaaax! Dance with me!” She slurred loudly in your ear, reaching her hands back to grip your wrists and place them on her hips. She resumed her swaying hips, reaching up to tangle her hands in your hair as she pressed back rhythmically. You were stunned, hands gripping her hips absently as your face blew hot with embarrassment. The girl who invaded your thoughts constantly was grinding on you. The ass you constantly swore yourself for staring at was pressed against you. It felt like your brain was going to explode. Your breathing was shallow, and suddenly the music was too loud. Every time someone brushed against you it was overwhelming, the bright lights becoming blinding as Mina blissfully danced like she didn’t have a care in the world. 

This was wrong. This was all sorts of wrong. Friends weren’t supposed to blush thinking about each other. They weren’t supposed to flirt with each other. And they definitely were not supposed to get aroused when one of them ground on the other. 

Your body was betraying your thoughts. You felt the butterflies fluttering in your stomach and your cunt throbbing, sweat building on your brow in the middle of all the body heat. It was becoming too much too fast, and it became impossible to keep up with the rhythm of Mina’s hips. Panic was rising in your body, your breath becoming sporadic and hard to keep your thoughts straight. You had to get out of here before you passed out. Or worse, gave in. 

Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you pushed off of Mina, her instantly spinning around to question you. But you were already pushing through the crowd. You caught the stairs that led up to the dorms and quickly climbed them, cursing your heels as they pinched your feet. Your heavy breathing filled your ears, the loud music and lights slowly fading but your panic was still high. Gripping the first door knob you saw at the top of the stairs, you pushed it open, sliding in and slamming the door behind you. You pressed your back against the cold wood, eyes clenched shut and begging your lungs to steady. This was pathetic. If you couldn’t even handle a party how the hell were you going to handle being a pro hero? The tears streamed down your cheeks before you even knew they were there, fists clenching into your dress as you quietly sobbed. The music of the party was muffled, loud base still thumping the walls in rhythm with your pounding heart. 

Several minutes passed when you caught your breath, the tears on your cheeks drying up and staining your skin. You felt the knocking on the other side of the door, breath hitching as you pressed off the wood. “[Y/N]?” Shit. Mina knocked again, her sweet voice laced with concern. Maybe if you didn’t respond she’d leave. “[Y/N], open the door.” She pleaded, knocking again. Defeated, you gripped the knob and turned it slowly, staring at the ground as Mina’s face came into view. She immediately stepped in, closing the door behind her and closing off the rest of the party with it. Keeping her distance, she crossed her arms, face twisted with concern. “Are you okay? What happened?” She was still obviously tipsy, but the seriousness in her voice overrode any fear she might be teasing you. You hugged your arms around yourself, suddenly very self-aware of how stupid you must look with mascara running down your cheeks. But Mina didn’t care, you knew she wouldn’t. 

“I don’t know… I panicked, I guess.” You mumbled, rubbing your hands over your arms as you refused to make eye contact with her. She sighed, stepping forward and gripping your wrists to drag you to the bed. Sitting on the edge, she sat close to you, hand rubbing soothingly across your shoulders as she spoke. “Panicked about what, hun?” You shut your eyes, embarrassment gripping you at the nickname. She didn’t use it often, but when she did, it tore you up. Your hands fiddled with each other, your fingernails picking at your calluses and pulling the tight skin. “It’s stupid. I just got worked up.” Mina sighed, sliding her hands to grip yours and stop your fidgeting. She leaned close, making you face her as she smiled. “I promise you, whatever it is, it’s not stupid. Talk to me.” 

If this was going to be a battle of determination, Mina had already won. Even before you caught feelings for her, she was always so quick to force the truth out of you when you were upset. It was like her second quirk. She was just that trustworthy. Or manipulative. You weren’t sure which one.

You took a deep breath, her hands gripping yours tightly. “You dancing. It just got me worked up.” You cringed, staring down at your hands interlocked with hers and sighing. She immediately perked up, panic striking her. “Oh my God. I’m so so so so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfor-” Before she could freak out, you gripped her hands tighter, holding them close to your chest and cutting her off. “No! No, I promise it’s not you. It’s like, uh, the opposite, I guess.” You were jumbling your words, trying your best not to make a fool of yourself. “It just, like, got me too excited. I just freaked. You were just so pretty, and, uh- Like I said, it’s stupid.” You closed your eyes, wishing you could just disappear to your bed and never face her again. But she was way too quiet. Peeling your eyes open, you met her shocked expression, her eyes wide and staring you down. You said too much.

You let go of her hands, quickly standing up and apologizing. You went to grab your bag, gripping the door handle, but Mina was quick to stop you. She stood, grabbing your arm and forcing you to face her, her face even with yours. You both stared at each other, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as you refused to move, but never looking anywhere else. She gripped both of your arms tightly at your sides, an anchor against the storm inside begging you to fight her. It was like just by staring into your eyes she could read your every thought. Her dark eyes made your breath shaky, the intensity of her stare making you flustered. 

“[Y/N].” She spoke softly but sternly, her glossy lips soft compared to her wild makeup. You closed your eyes, her voice breaking your trance as you shook your head. This couldn’t happen. She gripped your arms tighter, her sharp nails scraping against your skin. “Look at me.” She cooed, rubbing her thumb against your goosebumped arms. You shook your head harder, refusing. You couldn’t let this happen. You knew if you opened your eyes and saw her pretty face, it would be over. But you had worked too hard. You worked hard to get into UA, to get into the top class, and to perfect your quirk. You couldn’t throw away everything your parents had built up for stupid feelings. But as Mina’s fingers brushed up your arms, scratching against your skin, you couldn’t think of a reason why not. 

Every day, you struggled to resist her. You avoided staring at her for too long, forcing your eyes down to the ground anytime she was near. You made sure to punish yourself for every lewd thought you had of her, lifting extra weights in the gym to tire yourself out. But the one thing you couldn’t stop, no matter how hard you tried, was hearing her voice. Before you went to bed, when you got really desperate and slid your hands between your thighs, the only thing you could think of was Mina’s soft voice talking you through every move. It was like a curse. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t come to anything else. So you gave up on touching yourself entirely, but that did you worse than it did good. You were always on edge, always irritated at your slightest mistakes. But with her in front of you, voice cooing in that same tone you imagined she would use late at night, the butterflies in your stomach betrayed you. 

“[Y/N].” She cooed again, her voice closer this time. Giving in, you slowly opened your eyes. You were met with those big dark eyes, colorful makeup blinding your vision. You were way too hot, face burning as you knitted your brows. You flicked your eyes quickly between her eyes and lips, unsure of what you were supposed to do, but Mina was already guiding you.

Sliding your bag off your arm, she tossed it to the ground and slid her hands to your wrists. Wrapping your arms around her shoulders, she slid her hands down to your waist and rubbed gently, smiling softly. “It’s okay.” She sighed, gripping your waist tightly and forcing your hips to press against hers. But it wasn’t okay… right? Staring down at her glossed lips, you tried to think of some reason you couldn’t. But nothing came. Nothing but her face slowly pressing closer to yours and your thoughts screaming in your head. 

Until you felt her soft lips press against yours. And everything just went quiet.

Your eyes slowly fluttered shut, arms gripping tighter around her shoulders to support yourself. It was like you couldn’t control your body anymore. Your lips moved eagerly against hers, tasting the sweet gloss coating them and moaning at the taste. She rubbed your waist tightly, following your lips as they engulfed hers and moved with the rhythm you set. The negative thoughts didn’t come anymore. All you could think about was how good she tasted, how soft her skin was. She got rid of all the bad. 

Before you lost your breath, you pulled back, shallowly panting against her chest. Mina only gazed at you, a soft smile radiating against her flushed skin, reassuring you. “I… Uh-” You started but were interrupted with her lips pecking against yours. Pushing you back, your knees hit the edge of the bed and buckled, Mina quick to straddle your legs and wrap her arms around your neck. You immediately went stiff, but her soft strokes across your shoulders eased that familiar tension. “So… were you ever gonna tell me you liked me?” She smiled, littering your cheeks with kisses as she spoke. You rested your hands against her hips, her dress riding up as she spread her legs and gave you a sly view of her lacy thong. Tearing your eyes away, Mina brushed her fingers through your hair, peppering kisses down to your jaw and stopping on your neck. Chills ran down your spine, small whines escaping your lips as she slid your dress strap off your shoulder and began to suck on your skin. “Mina-” You groaned, gripping her hips tighter. Her curly hair brushed against your skin, tickling your chin before she let off of your neck and brought her face back to yours. 

“Unzip my dress.” She smiled, wrapping her hands around your wrists and sliding them behind her. Your face flushed dark, stomach twisting with excitement as you searched for the zipper and pulled it down, her straps falling off her shoulders. She hooked her hands under her dress and pulled it over her head, her matching set of lacy purple underwear and bra making your jaw drop. She giggled as you stared, her tits perched right in front of your face and spilling over the cups so beautifully. Mina tossed her dress to the floor, wrapping her hands around your back and unzipping your dress the same, helping you slide it off and tossing it. “So cute…” She giggled, fiddling with the straps of your bra as you gaped at her, face stunned against her body. Up close, her pink skin was so pretty. Dark sunspots littered her shoulders and chest, dark pink freckles complimenting nicely. She was so beautiful.

Mina resumed her place on your neck, kissing and sucking the skin as you groaned. With sudden bravery, you wrapped your hands around her hips and gripped her plump ass in your hands, kneading the flesh softly. She smiled against you as her hands tangled into your hair, tugging lightly the harder you gripped her ass. This was more than you could ever think to dream of. Farther than you ever thought you’d get. If Mina decided right now that she was done, you could die happy knowing you at least got to feel the ass you longed for every day. 

Sliding her arms around your back, she fiddled with your bra clasp and snapped it open, sliding your bra off your shoulders. She leaned back, admiring them as she giggled. You blushed deeply, suddenly very aware of yourself as her fingers began to pinch at your nipples. Your breath hitched, hands quick to unclip her bra and slide it off the same. What you didn’t expect were the two tiny silver barbels pierced through each nipple. It made your cunt throb. You gripped her wrists, pulling her wandering hands from your tits and leaning close to hers. You breathed deep, her sweet perfume thick on her chest as you mouthed over her right nipple, sliding your tongue over the cold metal and sucking gently. Her answering moan made your heart flutter. You gripped her other tit, kneading the mound in your hand as Mina gasped, little whines answering for every brush of your tongue. You realized that you really liked that sound. 

Tugging your head off her tits, Mina crashed her lips back against yours, pressing your back down against the bed. She trailed kisses down your neck, to your chest, and soon to your abdomen. Goosebumps followed her lips, little gasps and whines answering for every kiss as she got closer to your panty line. Mina glanced up at you, sticking her tongue out and licking a long stripe across your belly button and giggling when your mouth fell open. She enjoyed teasing you as she hooked her fingers under your panties and pulled them down, your face flushing dark as Mina laid face to face with your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat as she pushed your thighs apart, kissing along the insides and stopping right before she reached your folds. She held eye contact with you, reaching her hand under your thigh and intertwining her fingers with yours, gripping reassuringly. “Relax. Just let me make you feel good.” She grinned, dipping her head down and spreading your folds open with her warm fingers. Slamming your head back on the bed, you deep a deep breath and close your eyes, excitement shooting wires all through your body.

When you felt Mina’s warm tongue lick a thick stripe through your folds, you could’ve came right there. You gripped her hand tight, her little squeezes keeping you from freaking out as she continued to press her tongue against your clit. Her fingers kept your lips spread apart, flicking her tongue on your throbbing clit and smiling every time you flinched. “Doing so good, hun.” She hummed, pulling back to rub her thumb over your soaked clit and making you squirm. She dove back down, wrapping her arm around you thigh and digging her nails into your skin, pulling your legs apart. You were soaked, cunt throbbing as Mina pressed her tongue against your entrance and pushed deeper, tongue sinking into you wonderfully. Gasping, you immediately spread your legs further, craving her tongue to press deeper. Her tongue curled against your walls, lapping up your ecstasy and making your arch your back. You slid your hand down, tangling your fingers in her coiled hair and brushing against her jagged horns. When her tongue pulled out of your cunt and her lips began to suck on your clit, your fist quickly wrapped around her horn and pulled her head closer, a loud moan following. Sliding her hand to your cunt, Mina ran her fingers through your wetness and pressed against your entrance, curling her fingers up immediately and sending you writhing. She pumped shallowly, warms fingers curling tightly against your walls in time with her lips against your clit. Your back was arched fully off the bed, fist gripping her horn tightly and fingers wrapped around hers assuringly. With the intensity of it all, Mina was also gentle, constantly looking up to gauge your reactions and holding your hand to keep you stable.

“I’m go- oh my god- Mina-” You gasped, teeth gritted and eyes shut tight as her fingers coiled against your walls, her fingers pulling you closer to your orgasm. Besides on your own fingers, you had never came to anything else. Orgasms were just a way to relieve your stress, helping you stay more focused and keep your mind of off useless horny things. But now, falling apart on Mina’s fingers, it felt different. There was this tension building up in your core, your cunt throbbing with every curl of her fingers and your breathing getting uncoordinated. But it felt so good. “Mina- Please-” You writhed against her, knees trying to press together. With one last deep curl of her fingers and her tongue flicking against your clit, your stomach tightened and your walls clenched down hard. Warm liquid squirted from your cunt, soaking Mina’s lips as she lapped up the odd feeling cum. Waves of pleasure crashed over you as you moaned loudly, fist gripping down tightly on Mina’s horn as she rubbed you through your orgasm. When she popped off your clit, her mouth was covered in your ecstasy, her blissed out expression lovely as she licked her lips clean. 

But before you could catch your breath, she was already sitting up and pulling down her panties, her own arousal evident from the stain between her legs. She kicked her heels off, pulling yours off as well and tossing them down before she pressed your legs back. She sat up, throwing a leg over yours and slotting herself down against your throbbing cunt, clits pressed firmly against each other. You whined, still sensitive from her tongue as she began to grind her hips down, her folds slotting against yours and quickly scissoring you. You had only ever seen this position in the porn videos you convinced yourself to watch, but experiencing it was far better than you could’ve imagined. Mina’s hips grinded down hard, clits nudging against each other and making you both moan loudly. She slotted her hand under your knee, holding you leg for support as she jerked against you, chasing her own ecstasy. 

Mina’s eyes were rolling, her soft lips hanging open as she arched her hips rhythmically. She was so gorgeous, her makeup slightly ruined and smudged across her eyes from her flustered state. She skin was glistening with sweat, her moans singing loudly with yours the faster she thrusted. You could already feel your orgasm coming, her clit rubbing yours and making you gasp loudly. Mina was close too, her moans becoming more high pitched the longer she went. You slid your hand up, cupping her tit in your hand and tugging at her nipple, playing with the barbell. She whined, biting her lip hard. “Yeah, fuck yeah. Just like that hun, shit.” She moaned, her nails gripping your leg tightly as you pinched her nipple in between your fingers. “Feels sooo good. Gonna come on your pussy. Gonna fuck you so good, hun.” She babbled, voice high and whiny as she ground shallow and fast against your cunt, clits throbbing and twitching. 

Your stomach tightened as you pulled her nipple, your cunt swollen and on the verge of orgasm as you stared into Mina’s flushed face. “Come for me. Come on-” You groaned, bucking your hips up and rubbing in time with her. That was all it took to make Mina’s eyes roll, her nails digging into your skin and her voice crying loudly as she came against you. You felt yourself coming apart as well, your hips stuttering as your warmth mixed with hers, moans echoing. Your legs clenched against each other, Mina flopping down on top of you and breathing quickly against your chest. You held her close, laying her beside you as you both came down from your intense highs, a fucked out smile on your face. 

Mina’s eyes fluttered, her forehead pressed against yours as she caught her breath, breathing deep before opening her eyes to yours. “Oh my God, [Y/N].” She smiled, wrapping her hand around your head and tangling her fingers in your hair once again. You both giggled, naked bodies flushed red and pressed close together while you just admired the other. Both of your makeup was ruined, hair messy, and brows sweaty by the time you settled down. “I’m glad you like me too…” Mina smiled shyly, pressing her lips against you cheek. You stared at her, in awe of just how beautiful she was. “Oh, you have no idea just how long I’ve dreamed of even getting to kiss you.” You laughed, hands wrapping around her waist and rubbing against her hips gently. Just laying there, breathing in each other’s scent, you finally felt content. For the first time in a long time, you felt like you had made a decision that you wanted, not what your parents wanted. You were so afraid before, so afraid of messing up or disappointing them. But as Mina’s eyes fluttered shut against the muffled beat of the music downstairs, you knew you wouldn’t give her up no matter how many insults they threw your way. If loving her was wrong, fuck being right.

-

Days had passed since the party. You shuffled through the halls of UA in your uniform, heading towards the cafeteria for lunch, your stomach growling as you hauled your backpack over your shoulders. When you felt warm hands slip around your shoulders, you smiled widely, raching to interlock the fingers with yours as you continued to walk. Mina wrapped her arms around yours, pressing herself close as you smiled to eachother, discussing classes and what you hoped they had to eat. 

Since that night, Mina hadn’t left your side, her fingers always interlocked with yours and letting everyone know just how happy she was because of it. She was helping you break down your walls your parents had so carelessly built up, poking at the deepest parts of you and releasing emotions you never knew you needed to. Her bubbly personality matched your calmness perfectly, and anyone could see just how happy you made eachother. 

When you felt another arm wrap around you shoulder, you turned, startled as Neijire nestled herself between the two of you. “So. Who’s going to buy me new sheets? Heard yall had a little fun in my room.” She smiled teasingly, pulling you both close as you continued to walk. You eyes shot wide, cheeks flushing deep as Mina’s stunned expression met yours. She slapped her hand over her mouth, holding back her laugh as you cringed to Neijire, shrugging your shoulders coyly. Mina threw her head back, laughing loudly through the halls and catching attention from other students. Neijire burst out laughing as well, hugging you both close as the two girls laughed each other to tears. As you sighed, you glanced to Mina, her bright smile radiating against her pink skin, her cheeks rosy with giddiness.

God, you didn’t deserve her. But you damn sure would never be ashamed of her again.

This was an anonymous request!

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