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bagellovermoonwatcher · 4 months ago

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i will never sacrifice my love (not even for you)

(roman reigns/seth rollins)

tags: canon universe, enemies with benefits, situationship, complicated relationship, angst, unhappy ending, explicit sexual content, smut

summary: even after being betrayed by seth, roman keeps going back to him for sex — but roman won't ever kiss seth on the lips. and after years, seth wants to know why.

word count: 2.518

even despite everything that has happened between them, they can't stop seeing each other. seth rollins and roman reigns just can't pull away completely from each other — they are drawn to one another like magnets, but these magnets are made of pain, of hatred, of resentment, of love.

a week after seth struck that fucking chair to roman's back, they fell back into old habits: sex. violent and rough — roman slapped seth so hard in the face that he split seth's lip, and seth, like the brat he had always been, taunted him. is that all you got, big man?

it wasn't. no, it wasn't, because roman manhandled seth into his hands and knees, spanked him, scratched his back and fucked him so hard that it got seth drooling, muttering incoherent sentences with his face pressed against the pillow. and when seth was coming, roman pulled seth by his hair and pressed his chest to his back as he sat back on his heels; one of his hands had a tight grip on seth's torso, making sure he stayed in place as roman's other hand found it's way towards seth's neck. "is that what you wanted, seth? for me to hurt you? you could've just asked," roman said as he choked seth as he squirted semen on the bed sheets, and seth was a mess; the big, bad wrestler reduced to gasps and broken moans, his hair matted to his face and neck, body dripping wet with sweat.

seth got fucked so good that he couldn't remember his own name for a good couple minutes as he was left on the bed with roman's seed dripping out of his ass. roman was already up — he had no plans of staying. he had his back to seth, and seth felt a shiver taking over his body as he, for the first time, saw the gnarly bruises he left there. him, seth rollins, with his egotistical wishes and delusions, destroyed roman forever when he decided to hit him with that chair as dean watched in shock, in pure awe, not understanding what was going on.

that night, seth lost roman and dean. and himself, too.

roman was pulling his pants up when seth propped himself on his elbows, trying not to look at the painful blemishes now turning dark purple, green and yellow on roman's back as he asked, "can i get a kiss?"

roman stopped unbuttoning his pants when he heard it, and turned around to look at seth in disbelief, with his eyebrows raised and a wicked smile on his thick lips. "a kiss?"

"yeah. a kiss. can i get one?" seth repeated himself, unashamed of his nudity, but feeling so desperately vulnerable under roman's stare. that wasn't his roman anymore. that wasn't the shield's roman — the man he fell in love with; the man with intimidating looks and caring personality, the man who could destroy someone with a punch and, with the same hand that caused so much violence, hold seth's face with nothing but tenderness.

no. the roman in front of his was a destroyed and destructive man.

seth's creation. seth's little monster.

roman had chuckled at seth's request, like he couldn't believe what he just heard. perhaps the biggest joke in a while. "no, seth. you can't get a kiss."

seth hadn't insisted on it, thinking that maybe roman would come around it. maybe roman could come around it as they wrestled each other week after week, as seth tried to tear roman down with his words and as roman did the same, as they rubbed salt deeply onto each other's wound. maybe roman could come around it as they taunted each other whenever they could, as roman became more and more vicious, as seth turned into a version of himself he couldn't recognize.

maybe roman could come around it as they kept meeting each other in hotel rooms to have sex, as roman pressed seth against a wall and fucked him as hard as he could, leaving as soon as he finished inside seth's ass — with roman's cum oozing out of his abused hole, dripping down his thighs and onto the floor, with the shape of roman's fingers inked around his waist.

but he didn't. roman didn't kiss him anymore. seth still remembers the sweet, innocent kiss they shared in the backstage before the incident, with seth pretending he wasn't about to fuck everything up because of his own greed. seth still feels the tenderness of roman's touch that night, as he tucked seth's hair behind his ear and whispered, with his deep voice, do your best there. don't hurt yourself, please.

but i'm gonna hurt you, roman. i'm gonna hurt you.

roman had craddled his face in his big hand and his lips found seth's easily, and with an ache in his chest, seth had melted into it, deepening the kiss as roman's thumb caressed his cheek and his other hand held his waist.

the last kiss. the very last one.

roman still kisses seth — but only his body; his beard scratching seth's skin as he worships seth with a mix of love and hate, as he slides his lips against seth's skin and then scratches it, bites it until he feels blood on the tip of his tongue and hears seth wincing, like he's punishing seth for still wanting him, despite their painful past.

but he won't kiss seth's lips. it's like a boundary roman established silently, and seth never tried to cross it.

seth doesn't wanna lose roman. he can't imagine himself without roman, despite his mean words in the ring; whenever he thinks he's losing roman, he begins provoking him, searching for his scars and ripping them open by making shield references, and roman falls into his trap.

because roman's ill tempered when it comes to seth. roman has always been calm and collected, an observer, a predator stalking his prey and toying with it. he can't quite act like that around seth. seth gets under his skin and starts to run through his veins as soon as roman sees him.

it's like a game that never ends. they run in circles, always finding each other.

roman still loves him. he would look for seth anywhere, because he longs for him, but with the longing and the yearning comes the inability to forgive and to forget; the memories, the resentment, what they could've been and never were because seth had bigger plans for himself.

they usually don't fuck while facing each other because they learned years and years ago that it would hurt more if they looked into each other's eyes. but this time, they do; because they're in a bit of a hurry for no reason, too desperate for each other in seth's hotel room, their clothes scattered all over the floor.

seth has his head thrown back as roman kisses his neck, his lips wet and hot leaving a trail of fire in seth's skin. roman fucks him hard and rough the way seth likes, but his hips are moving slower as he goes deep inside seth's ass, his walls tight around his cock.

"oh, god," seth has his hands on roman's hair, and he presses his forehead on roman's shoulder at a particular thrust that feels way too good. "please," seth doesn't even know what he's begging for but he's begging, and roman gives it to him, hitting his prostate, breathing heavily on seth's ear and making seth's cock get wetter between them.

"yeah? gonna come for me, seth? just like that?" he rubs his nose against seth's beard, his hands leaving marks on seth's thighs as he holds them with a strong grip.

"gonna come on your cock—gonna come so fucking good, roman, fuck," and seth does, muffling his moans as he presses his lips against roman's neck, trying to fuck himself on roman's cock as he rides his orgasm.

the way seth's hole tightens in response to his orgasm triggers roman's orgasm as well, and roman holds seth against him as he fucks his semen deep inside seth's ass, his hand sliding up seth's back as seth whimpers, the aftershocks of the orgasm still high in his blood.

they stay glued to each other for a while, heavy breathing filling the room as well as the smell of sex and sweat. they embrace each other and neither want to let go. roman has always been a source of warmth and seth wants roman to hold him like this forever, like he used to in the past.

roman nuzzles his face in seth's collarbone, taking in his scent, a mix of sweat and cologne. he doesn't think of what he's doing as he places a kiss there. and then another. and then another one, and then he starts to rub his nose on seth's neck and seth chuckles and feels goosebumps taking over his body when roman kisses a spot behind his ear, biting his ear lobe as he pulls away.

and then, they look at each other. it's been a while since they last looked at each other like this, without that vicious rage behind their pupils. they look at each other the way lovers do, the way lovers look for traces of themselves that they inked on their person's face with each tender touch, with each kiss.

their lips. they look at each other's lips.

seth still remembers what roman used to taste like. roman used to taste like coffee with cream, strong yet soft. and roman still wonders what seth tastes like too, if he still drinks energetic in the morning and if he's still sarcastic as he looks for food, if he still sits on the edge of the table instead of the fucking chair to eat his cereal.

seth knows that he's the first to go for it. his eyes flicker between roman's eyes and his mouth, and roman's looking at him attentively, the wrinkles around his eyes softened.

but then, roman remembers. and he pulls away from seth's embrace, kneeling between his legs, pushing his hair back, softening cock still inside seth's ass. the room is suddenly cold. seth feels like he's not real. like he just woke up from a dream, a dream way too good to be real.

carefully, roman pulls out. seth winces, immediately closing his legs and covering himself with the sheets on the edge of the bed, feeling a dread creating a hole inside his chest.

it's awkward at first. roman leaves to the bathroom. there, roman stares at himself in the mirror, wondering how seth can still make him lose control like this after so many years. he's the manipulated instead of the manipulator.

in seth's hands, roman turns into a puppet.

seth stares at the ceiling. his body feels sticky and he's trying to wrap his mind around the situation. what if they had kissed? what if roman hadn't run away? what if roman simply forgot?

what if? what if? what if?

what if seth hadn't attacked roman with a chair? what if they still had the shield? what if dean was still around?

roman comes back into the room. his face is wet and his hair is tied up into a bun again. like this, he looks more like the man seth's used to seeing — distant.

"roman," seth says as roman pulls his joggers up his long legs, and then leans down to pick his shirt of the floor.

"what?"

"you haven't kissed me since 2014," seth states, and roman simply arches his brows.

"i see you've been paying attention to dates. good for you," roman says, trying to keep his mind from wandering to what could've happened moments ago.

"don't pull that shit on me, i swear to god," seth spits, shaking his head and getting up from the bed. he takes the robe thrown across an armchair and quickly pulls it on, not missing the way roman stares at his body as he does it. "why won't you kiss me? what's the problem with giving me a fucking kiss? you saving yourself for someone, now?"

roman laughs, narrowing his eyes. he puts his shirt on, and takes a deep breath before speaking. "is that jealousy? really? i think you're a bit too old for that."

roman doesn't say that he kinda likes the fact that seth still gets jealous of him with other people.

seth rolls his eyes. "you're going all tribal chief, head of the table on me instead of answering a fucking question?" seth taunts, and roman sighs, closing his eyes for a second. there he is. the seth he's now used to. the one who has venom behind every single word that comes out of his mouth. "come on, roman. what kind of man are you? i thought you were the big shit. come on. afraid of answering a simple question?"

"kissing is… kissing is just too intimate, seth. that does not go well with us. you can have the sex, but not the kisses."

roman can take the quick fucks. he can take the heat seth directs at him. but a kiss would be way too much. a kiss would show the dominance seth still has over his heart, because roman has never stopped loving him.

seth is incredulous as he stares at roman, trying to make sense of his answer.

"oh, right. because putting your dick inside my ass without a condom isn't intimate enough for you?" seth licks his lips, his sarcastic tone very strong. it makes roman's skin burn. he hates it. he hates this version of seth.

"sex is sex, seth. it's just sharing pleasure with someone. it doesn't have to mean anything else unless the people involved in it want to."

a simple laugh leaves seth's lips as he takes in roman's words, as he allows himself to feel the ache in his chest. roman has no expression in his face, but he's hurting too.

pain is not something he's willing to show seth that he's still capable of feeling.

"and what sex with me means to you, roman?" seth fights to remain unbothered as the words leave his mouth, but he's a mess. he's always been a mess, all over the place, picking puzzles and trying to make coherent sentences out of them.

roman turns his back to him and walks towards the door. as soon as he places his hand on the handle, he knows that seth is ready to provoke him, to call him a coward, to play with his head. but this time, roman's faster. he has to be quick, otherwise he'll change his mind. and he'll lose. and seth will win. and seth will forever be known as the one who broke roman reigns and his empire into tiny little pieces, because seth rollins has power over roman reigns.

the door is opened, and roman turns his head, but doesn't dare try looking at seth. he stares at the wall. he places himself away from his feelings.

"sex with you means nothing to me, seth. nothing."

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bagellovermoonwatcher · 1 year ago

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Cruel Existence (Gojo Satoru x Reader)

summary: Gojo broke up with you a week ago. Trying to forget him, you invited your friends to a night out. It was fun while it lasted, until you realized that you never went home to your own place. In fact, you were sleeping soundly on his bed.

cw/tw: angst, hurt, pain, mentions of break up, regret, mentions of drinking until one passes out (please don't do this), trespassing

a/n: this was fun to write. I hope you like it. Again, as much as I appreciate likes, comments and reblogs motivates me better. Thank you!

🐈

It is wild how the stranger you once met becomes the most important person in your life.

Then for one day, life decided to make that person a stranger again.

Some may argue that no, they're not strangers anymore.

However if you think about it, a person who isn't in your life is nothing but a mere stranger.

His memories may be there, and it must have been your greatest treasure. Yet, it doesn't erase the fact that it wasn't them anymore.

Each day, the knife twists deeper, sharper and deadlier the more you think about the what ifs and the whatnots.

It's like a deadly poison slivering inside your vein. Memories turn lethal and invasive. You begged for them to just stop and let you breathe.

You prayed every night for it to be over. As you close your eyes, you wish that the morning will make you feel renewed and the person you once were.

How cruel life can be when all you wanted was to be loved.

Gojo had found you first. Maybe that explains a lot why he ended it in the first place.

"Look at this girl. She called us to drink her sorrows away but she was just holding her beer and staring from afar." Iori called you out. Then, rolled her eyes in annoyance. You gave her a chuckle and muttered an apology.

If she did not call your name, you will probably think about what you did wrong and why he ended your relationship that way. He looks tired, fed up when you ask why. He wasn't the same Satoru to whom you knew. It was true that he could be cold-hearted at times but he never acted that way towards you.

That should have been a red flag but that action had made a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. You almost thought you were special.

You bit your lips as you felt another tear wanting to come out and spill your pain in front of your friends again. Shaking your head and blinking your eyes, you tried your best to stop it.

You called and invited them to forget him. It has been a week. It shouldn't bother you as much anymore. He probably had been enjoying his single life. The pain of being pursued and being rejected after achieving your goal was something you had been trying your best not to overthink about. It might be true, but it wasn't healthy to soak through the scenarios and what ifs you knew nothing about.

It will just kill you inside and there will be no reprieve for it.

Attention and awareness finally came back to what you were doing, and so you looked around. The bar was loud. Blinking lights and the alcohol were giving everyone a false sense of confidence as they danced and socialized on the crowded dance floor. Everyone looked like they were having fun. Now, you kinda felt bad that your friends were just sitting inside the private booth with you. Especially, when all of these independent ladies had been through a tough week doing their work. You felt bad wasting their time to watch you mopping and crying over a man they already told you to be wary about.

"I know what you were thinking. And no, I'd rather sit here and join you into drinking your heart out than be with those strangers. Drink up!" Mei mei raised her eyebrows and tapped your pint. She's always so impressive at reading people. Sometimes you wonder if you had said your thoughts aloud with how accurate her words were, at times.

Heart filled with warmth, with how loving your friends were, you stood up and hugged them all. Shoko who remained quiet and sitted patted your back in reassurance after returning your big hug.

It was probably harder for her to hear what happened. She was close to Gojo. You just hoped she wouldn't be planning his murder though. She may be quiet but when angry, she can be more intense than these two.

Anyway, enough thinking about your ex-boyfriend now! These hot ladies gave you their precious free time so might as well use it wisely and to full extent.

You basically had dragged the three in the middle of the dance floor and showed them your moves, which was nonexistent, so you earned a mocking and hysterical laughter from them. Yet, it did not take long for them to follow suit and even challenge you to a dance battle.

The night was filled with laughter, and for once, during that grueling week, you forgot why you were crying and had to lie about your puffy eyes.

🐈

The pain in your head was intolerable. You had been awake for quite some time now but you cannot even lift your eyelids on how painful it was. You groaned. You moaned. You breathed in and out to make it better but the beating of the unbearable pain seems to get worse.

Well, it was true what they said, it had been fun while it lasted.

Last night was a blast. No one can stop the four of you as you claimed the stage and did your greatest night out. You felt the rush of freedom and so you did not stop taking shots after shots. The consequences were pushed back in the deepest part of your brain. And for once, you let your wild side out in public.

You were probably so wasted but at least managed to get home safe. The proof was the soft mattress of your bed. Your fresh sheet enveloping your exhausted body to a warm embrace while the air conditioner blows the perfect amount of cold. This atmosphere should have pulled you back to sleep, if it weren't for this godforsaken headache. Gosh, you wanted so bad to go back to sleep. But you are in pain, needing to pee and calm your growling hunger. You can even feel the vile gastric threatening to come up due to your empty stomach.

"How long do you plan to sleep on my bed?"

Familiar voice had spoken close to you and your body reacted way too fast. You sat up and opened your eyes. Leaning on the doorway was your ex-boyfriend Gojo Satoru. His blue eyes are neutral but his face says he was pissed.

His hair was damp. Droplets were even falling from it but he wore a white towel around his neck to prevent it from cascading further down to his body. He was half naked, only wearing an untied sweats that was hanging way too low for your comfort. Normally, you would say he was hot. But that was not the most important thing right now.

"What do you think you are doing inside my room-!?" In surprise, you yelled but were met by your very hoarse voice. You even ended up violently coughing and wheezing with how dry your throat was. It was as if you did a 24 hour karaoke with your friends or you competed at a screaming contest.

"Maybe before you groaned and moaned to someone else's bed, make sure you were actually on your bed." He tuts and moves towards where you were sitting. You felt a cold metal placed on your forehead and you sighed in relief. Even though it gave you a quick relief, it only happened for a second.

The pain, forgotten for a moment of shock, was now back twice ruthless. Your head was swimming in pain and you felt lightheaded. You left out a loud burp and you felt the hand, holding the can on your forehead, maneuvered fast to pick up the bucket placed methodically on his bedside. The respect you had for this man for preparing this much so he would be able to stop you if you plan to puke all over his place as revenge.

You wretched as if there was no tomorrow. All contents from last night probably had been vomited earlier because you felt only the acid of vile as it pushes whatever was still left inside of you. Heaving, you accepted the water he provided and gargled the last remaining content of puke in your mouth. You cleaned up using the back of your hand and leaned at the nearby chair while you were still sitting on his bed.

This is probably your year's nightmare. Drinking a lot for the first time, losing your friends by walking to someone else's house and worse, sleeping on your ex's bed and thinking it was so comfortable and homey earlier.

While you were thinking and regretting what you had done, you heard the scraping of the table being pulled closer to where you sat. His presence near you again. The clang of utensils, the sound of the lid being opened and plastic wrappers being crumpled and thrown had almost lull you to sleep when you felt a soft tap of his familiar hand on your shoulder.

With a blink, you straightened up and looked at the store bought food, placed in front of you.

It was cup noodles, a bottle of water and ibuprofen, placed on the side. The cold can of coffee just above it.

"Eat up or you will feel shittier than you are right now." He said more like an order and just stood in front of you with arms crossed.

You gulped and tried your best to eat but your hair kept on falling down and dipping on the cup noodles. You were already aware that you smelled like vomit, who could even imagine you can also smell like cup noodles. With a groan of frustration, you collected your hair on the side and was about to eat again when you felt his hand run through your hair.

He mumbled a soft "Let me." and with practiced moves, he was able to tie your hair with a hair tie. He used to do this a lot when you decided not to cut your hair shorter so you can donate it. He was so sweet and attentive when you were still together and this action of concern was not helping your case.

You sat and ate in silence while he stood there for a while and decided it was too awkward and he left you alone. He closed the door as softly as he could. Once you were sure he was gone, you gave out an empty scream and slapped your face multiple times. The pain, embarrassment, and anger were all mixed up as you felt it rise within you.

With a frustrated groan, you bite your lip and pray that this nightmare was all a dream. But you know better. Eyes staring at the familiar ceiling, you sighed. The room is engulfed with quiet except for your ragged breathing, indiciating, how sick you are.

The silence did not last long when you remembered your phone and frantically looked for it. You saw it placed properly on the nearby stool and almost cried when you saw the numerous texts and calls from your friends. Ranging from the early hours of the day and right now, it was asking for the same thing; where were you? or are you okay?.

Nervous, you tried your best to reply even with shaking hands and once you hit send, they immediately saw it and called.

The call was filled with screams of terror and relief that you were okay. But once they calmed down, you were able to talk to them properly. They even answered the gnawing question you had been wondering about when you saw Gojo in front you.

Around 3 am, you four had decided to book a room in a nearby hotel, instead of getting a cab and going home. You all were too wasted to even trust yourselves that you can all recall how to go home.

They never remember much after that but they were sure you were the first one to sleep on the bed. But later, after around 5 or 6, Iori woke up and saw you weren't there. They were filled with panic and terror because there is no way you can stand up after having that short sleep and being too drunk.

They tried to rationalize that maybe you did go home and tried to call you. But when you were still not picking up, they almost trashed the hotel room. Luckily, the cleaning lady was kind enough. When she saw their panicked and disheveled appearance, she asked the security to check if you left the hotel in one piece. It turns out, she had seen you four together and was also worried that something happened to you too.

They had seen you walking out of the room and through the lobby, up to the entrance. You obviously looked still drunk as you tried to wobble and walk straight ahead, outside of the hotel.

Since then, they have been blowing your phone with texts and calls. They could hear it ringing so they suspected that maybe you accidentally turned it to silent mode or you were kidnapped.

Grateful, you reassured them that you were fine. You made up a story that you booked a new hotel room, in another hotel, probably because you were drunk. Currently, you informed them that you were staying in that room and having breakfast. You reasoned out that you were not able to answer their calls and texts because you can barely open your eyes. It uproared another wave of panic but you told them firmly that you were fine and will call them once you take care of your too drunk ass. To stop them from asking further, you hung up the phone with an excuse that your battery was dying out.

There is no way that you will share to them that your drunk ass went to your ex's huge condominium and you thought as you woke that it was yours. You had been staying and visiting this place that your body immediately thought of this place as your other home.

After finishing your meal, and feeling the medicine taking effect. You psych yourself up to face the inevitable. There is no way you can just walk out of this place without confronting him about what you did and what he had to witness.

You walk to the restroom and try your best to look presentable and not a crazy person.

Once done, you slowly crept towards the door and opened it ajar, you scanned the place and looked for him. He was wearing a black fitted plain shirt, as he sat on the couch, sipping a cup of coffee as he typed something on his laptop. Probably, for work.

You walked slowly towards him and coughed to get his attention. His piercing blue eyes stared back at you, as he removed his glasses and closed his laptop. He grumbled and again, crossed his arms to his chest. His lips were abit pouted and the creases on his head showed a frown.

"I'm really sorry for trespassing. I promise I will never drink that hard again." You promised and even did a pinky swear in front of him. He looked unamused though as he replied with a doubtful "hmmm" and still had the same frowning face.

"Do you remember what you did then?" He asked.

"To be honest, no. I only remember being in a hotel with the girls and sleeping. I don't really remember much about what I did." You gulped when you saw him raised his eyebrow and sighed.

"See those keys?" He pointed at the keys placed on a bowl. "You used that to enter my condo. They were my spare keys that were still hidden in the same place. You were so drunk that you thought you went back home and even slept beside me. I thought I was sleeping with my pillow the whole morning, so imagine my surprise when that pillow turned out to be you." He shared with a firm voice, as if he even cannot fathom what happened.

However, something's amiss with that story.

"No way! Don't lie to me. I agree that I may have done the trespassing but sleeping beside you? Nahhhhhhh! I doubt that. Remember, you're a light sleeper! There is no way I can sneak up on you and sleep." It was now your time to raise your eyebrow and cross your arms at him. You even sounded smug for someone who owed him big time.

You do not believe that other accusation at all. That is so unbelievable and he was probably messing with you so you will feel guiltier from entering his home without permission.

"My new doctor prescribed effective sleeping pills for insomnia this time. I have been sleeping better and on time ever since. I never felt any movement at all." He smirked. And you know, you lose. Gojo never lied about these things and you also knew that he was struggling to sleep.

So if this was true, then for the whole morning, you were sleeping together!?

Who would even do that with her ex? Oh god you are stupid!

His smug look had made you feel ashamed even more and you know that you're red as a tomato. You feel hot all over and even at the end of your ears.

Let's end this humiliation and be done with this asap!

"I- Thank you for taking care of me. I owe you one. I'm so sorry again and will promise not to drink again and disturb you. Again, I am so sorry." With a deep bow, you sincerely apologize and you just hear him say "look up."

"It's alright. I'm glad your safe. Hangover but safe. " He taunted and you just wanted to slap that smirk out of his face. He was obviously implying how humiliating your shenanigans were. And they were, but he doesn't have the right to judge.

"Well then, if there's nothing more, I'll go back to the hotel and meet my friends." A bow again and you were on your way out.

You blinked when he slapped his hands on his thighs before he stood up and used his head to tell you to go first.

You frowned a bit in confusion but followed regardless.

This whole interaction was so awkward but familiar. He does this a lot whenever you visit his home. He usually drives you back home or if he can't, he will see you out to the entrance.

The elevator did not come sooner, however. It was creating unnecessary drama and tension between you two. As you just stood there, holding your bag for dear life. You hugged it for comfort and distraction on this growing awkwardness by standing near him. He looks fit. You imagine running your hands over him again. It was more tempting now than before.

"Please take care of yourself." You heard him speak first, breaking the ice. Your head whipped so fast in his direction when you heard his voice break a little when he said that. But when you looked at him, he titled his head to the side, confused at your action. Maybe you imagined it.

Embarrassed, you used the ping of the elevator as an excuse, thank god, and immediately rode the lift.

He was standing there on the other side, he was staring at you. It feels like someone was looking into your soul. You cannot help but feel vulnerable and open in front of his eyes. He looks solemn, calm.

If you stop me, I will forgive you and run back to your loving arms.

It was too late before you realized that you opened your mouth to speak and called his name.

"Satoru." His first name rang smoothly on your mouth. It feels comfortable and your heart twinged in pain when you realized that it may be the last time you will ever see him.

As the door closes slowly, you have seen his mouth move from your peripheral and he uttered your name softly, like how you say the name of the ones you treasured the most.

You do not know if you were just seeing things but his eyes look emotional, somewhat sad for a second. Before the elevator door finally closes and your name echoed when he said it.

"Y/N."

There were no tears as the lift started going down. You expected that seeing him one last time, you will feel the pain worse than before. Yet, that did not happen.

Staring at your reflection, your eyes look tired. The way those eyes bore at you speaks volume on how your soul truly feels about this.

You had a moment of acceptance when the doors closed in between you two.

A new chapter of your lives will arise. He will have his own world without you. He will be happy. He will be truly madly deeply in love with someone else.

And now, the hurt and pain became numb and cold.

Just imagining that he would love someone much greater than what he had given you was soul crushing to the point of rude awakening.

During those times, you will be happy for him. But you wish, as selfish as it sounds, that he will not be as happy when you were still together.

🐈

Gojo doesn't need to get up to know it was you who entered his condo without notice. He was a bit concerned that you kept on stumbling around and cussing his furniture out that managed to trip you, even though it was clearly your fault.

When he felt the bed dipped and your arms automatically hugging him from behind, it made him a bit nervous. He has to pretend to be asleep or else…….or else what? He never knew.

You smell like alcohol and you're even slurring your words. He never saw you this drunk before. In fact, you never liked alcohol. You have a terrible experience of living with an alcoholic, so a mere smell of alcohol repulses you. He never expected to see you drunk and barely kept together.

He was about to confront you, when he felt your arms tighten around him and your breath tickling his back when you said, "I'm home." with a sigh of relief before passing out.

Gojo had never felt more at peace hearing those words coming from your mouth.

🐈

When he woke up, he was just staring at you. He never had any proper sleep since the break up but knowing you were beside him, he was able to sleep well.

Maybe something inside him had been comforted when you said you were home. It actually warms his heart that you felt at home beside him.

He sat up and, a twang of pain rushed inside his chest. He shakes his hair in annoyance using his right hand.

He doesn't have the right to be sad about it when he was the one who broke it up with you.

Gojo never really knew why he did it in the first place. Sure, his family never approved of you but he never really cared about their opinion. He actually wishes for his old folks to die soon so he doesn't have to pretend that he cares about their words. He grew up without them being around.

Or maybe it was because he felt insecure that someone as kind and loving as you chose him. You were so different to the people he usually surrounds himself around but you were warm and he felt safe around you.

With a frustrated groan, Gojo stood up and was about to walk towards the door when he thought of an idea.

He slowly walked towards where you were asleep, bent down and whispered, "Welcome home." before kissing your forehead.

For the first time, after a week of him trying to justify that he made the right choice, making Nanami, his friend, worry that he was working too much, he felt at peace and happy.

Just for a moment, he wanted to pretend that he did not let you go for something so stupid and you were actually home with him.

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